#I’m slowly spiraling down to the brink of madness | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wangshuus · 3 years

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no love left | diluc ragnvindr

pairing: diluc ragnvindr/gn. reader

genre: angst

wc: 3.2k

cw: mild cussing, brief mentions of violence, probably lore breaking too lol.

summary: falling out of love is painful but maybe it’s what you needed.

note: please read the authors note after the story ESPECIALLY if you’re confused because i’ve implemented a few odd aspects into this story. i was just typing out whatever so essentially it’s more word vomit (again lol) but uhh yeah. most of the important stuff is at the bottom so like i said before, read that authors note at the end!!

lightly proofread, please don’t mind any errors

fic below the cut.

When the esteemed bachelor Diluc Ragnvindr finally settled down with a lover, the news did not fail to spread across Mondstadt like a wildfire. It was the talk of town for who knows how long but as time passed, the people settled down and the buzz eventually died but no one ever failed to acknowledge the young Ragnvindr and his beloved when they were together. Although the two preferred to keep a composed look to the public eye, the admiration they held for each other burned as bright as a summers day in their eyes at all times when they were together; from that alone, anyone could tell they were in love

So where did it all go wrong?

You sat across from Diluc at a table in the winery, the air thick with a suffocating tension that felt like it was going to swallow you whole at any minute now. Your hands rested on the table in front of you as you barely managed to keep your hands from trembling as a storm of emotions stirred inside of you as you felt your composure on the brink of cracking any second. You decided to finally break the silence as you spoke up, a slight tremble in your voice.

“What is it Diluc? Huh? I was hoping you’d have the decency to speak up about whatever the hell is going on instead of leaving me in the dark but it’s been far too long now. Now tell me Diluc, what’s going on?”

Oh the way your words slipped from your mouth made the room feel so cold, even if you didn’t wield a vision of any sorts. Diluc took a deep breath before he decided to speak up.

“What went on between the two of us was purely business.” Was the simple statement he gave.

Was?

“They’ve shown themselves to be quite the individual, wielding good etiquette with both business and a weapon.” He spoke out once more.

“God sake Diluc you’re fucking stalling at this point. You know what, I’ll make it easier for you. Do you still love me?”

There was a pause. A long painful pause. You already had your answer.

“(Y/n), I still care for you more than you can ever imagine, I truly do.”

The words felt like knives piercing through your form and from that, you felt the first tear slip down your face.

“Diluc, are you even aware of how terrible I feel in this situation right now? I’m watching my lover from a far doing lord knows what and you expect me to just tolerate it? I trusted you enough which is why I never pried at it but fuck Diluc, it’s just unbearable at this point.”

“I never did act upon anything in fears of making the situation worse--” You cut him off.

“Making the situation worse huh? So you were out here trying to do some crowd control weren't you? Was if for the sake of not hurting me or or for the sake of not tainting your pristine reputation?”

“I said before, I really do care for you still.” His hand reached towards your own as he held your hand with utmost gentleness. You were almost convinced he still loved you as much as he did in the past.

“However, I can’t deny that our dynamic has indeed changed. I…” His grip on your hand tightened.

“I can’t lie to you and say that I love you the way I did before.”

There it was.

“You don’t look at me the way you used to, you know? Your eyes used to be so full of love whenever you looked at me but that look is reserved for someone else now, isn’t it? You’ve looked at me with nothing but sorrow and pity nowadays and I guess my assumptions of the worst were correct.” You said as your voice trembled even more.

You wanted to pull your hand away so badly, the hand that once brought you such warmth now felt as if it was searing your skin. But you couldn’t. Not when this was mostly likely the last time you’d ever feel such an intimate touch from him. You found yourself to be conflicted as to whether you wanted to pull away out of pure frustration or savour the moment as it could be the last of him you would ever get to have for yourself.

“(Y/n), from the bottom of my heart, I’m truly sorry. I’ve loved you for so long and you’ve given me more love than I could’ve ever imagined. I never wanted things to change but I suppose fate had other plans. I’ll never stop caring for you however, I’m afraid I’ve stopped loving you in the way you’re used to.”

The truthful words were ones that felt like hell to swallow. You didn’t want to believe it but you knew damn well he was telling the truth. The sincerity and softness in his voice made it so hard to be completely mad at him. He was so gentle with his words but the truth of them did nothing but make your heart hurt and ache. An empty chuckle left your lips as your features were now graced with a bittersweet smile.

“Ah, I think I would’ve appreciated it if you were meaner with your responses. Maybe then I wouldn’t have such a hard time letting you go.” You finally managed to look him in the eyes, his reflection showing on your glossy orbs.

He felt his own heart churn with remorse and guilt, seeing as he terribly hurt the one person that he had sworn to love and protect for the rest of his days. He felt sick over the fact he failed to keep part of the promise-- the part where he said that he would continue to love you.

That was one of the last times you had ever seen Diluc Ragnvindr.

Your body shook as the freezing temperatures of Dragonspine overtook your senses. You sat up against a rock, your back leaning onto it as you struggled to keep yourself upright. You were barely holding on by a thread as you physically felt numb. However, your mind swirled with a storm of emotions, almost as strong as the last day you had seen your ex-lover but this time, you reminisced on your time as you felt like this would be your final moments.

You pondered over the fact that this might’ve been the reason that he no longer loved you in the way you wished to be loved by him. You wanted his affections, you wanted his love, you wanted him. But you were too weak. That was it. He let you go for someone that was strong, so very strong; both mentally and physically. God, you couldn’t even compare to the likes of them, being nothing but a measly old adventurer, one that wasn’t even fortunate enough to wield a vision. You were nothing but weak in your own eyes; that's what brought you to your demise.

In your hands, you clutched one of the last treasures you had found in the cursed mountains. It was a pretty little collar that held a jewel that twinkled so beautifully despite the dull, hazy environment.

“You do not wish to be weak anymore do you, little one? Do not be afraid, put me on and I’ll grant you the desires you so wish to obtain. Abide by my rules and obtain for me the essence of life and together, we can make sure that everyone will hail before you.”

A voice echoed inside your head as your mind began to spiral. All morals, memories and feelings began to drown out until you were barely hanging on by thread.

“Hurry, time is of the essence! Quick!”

With little energy you had left, you were able to hang the new found possession around your neck. The second you let go of the clips that held the piece together, you felt a tight constriction around your neck, the feeling was suffocating. Just like the last time you had seen Diluc. For a moment, you thought of the red haired male you once held to dear and close to your heart. It ached for him once more in that very moment because he was the very essence of warmth and it was something that you so desired in such a moment like this. The way he held you against him in the coldest of nights in an attempt to keep you warm and oh how it worked wonderfully. It was a memory that slowly faded away with your conscience. Your hands graced themselves lightly around your neck as you struggled to breathe even more than before, your body finally running out of any sort of energy as you fell limp against the cold and soft snow.

Anything. From this point on, you would do anything to get stronger. You no longer cared for any mishaps that happened along the way. You had no love left, nothing but the hunger for power that drowned out the aching void that was now left behind after everything was torn away from you.

“Sorry... to also have you shoulder the grievances of the world. Since you could endure my bitter cold, you must have the desire to burn? Then, burn away the old world for me.”

Within the bustling harsh winds of the Dragonspine mountains laid a girl with a jewelled necklace as well as a cold, icy blue orb that shined brightly against the blizzards.

“The expedition out in Dragonspine was a complete disaster! The winds were harsher than usual and how could we predict such a nasty storm would’ve been upon us? We planned so far ahead and yet it ended up utterly terrible.” One of the adventurers commented as they were in the process of recovering after descending from the unforgiving mountains.

“Did everyone that went on the expedition come back? There’s absolutely no way we can risk going up there again, at least not for a while.” Another commented.

There was an excruciating silence within the camp.

“Has anyone seen (Y/n)?”

Diluc had set out once the late hours of the night and the early hours of the morning came upon him. He continued to lurk from the shadows and deal with whatever trivial matters that had to be dealt with in the dead of night as he always did. He had heard of a few nuisances that arose near the outskirts of Dragonspine that hadn’t been dealt with yet. Of course the knights wouldn’t bother with this anyways, as per usual what he thought to himself.

Though the male held a pyro vision, the sharp and bitter cold of Dragonspine was something that never failed to make him uncomfortable.

He swiftly made his way to the location, being stealthy and fast with his movements in an attempt to get the job done faster to refrain from being caught. Once he had made his way to the destination, he remained hidden while he examined the area. In the far distance, he saw camps, hilichurl as well as Fatui camps that were not too far off. His face held a look of distaste as his eyes laid upon the familiar trademark symbol of the Snezhnayan organization.

Just as he was about to step out and deal with the hilichurl camp himself, a figure emerged from afar and into the camp. The movements of said person were agile, fast and swift, ice shards being directed in the direction of every living being on the camp. A blizzard stirred so fiercely upon the camp and as the barbaric bitter winds of the snow died down, there was almost nothing left of the camp that once stood there.

Not a single soul.

Diluc very cautiously moved closer to get a better look at the strange person that appeared before him. His eyes widened in disbelief as he started to make out the figure, his mind refusing to believe what he saw in front him, almost regretting letting his curiosity get the best of him.

“I wasn’t aware that you people are unable to take care of a measly little hilichurl camp. I specifically stated to clear the area before anything else and you couldn’t even follow instructions as simple as that, or perhaps I wasn’t clear enough with my statement?” An icy voice boomed out towards a trio of Fatui skirmishers.

That voice was all too familiar to Diluc. It was so familiar yet it sounded so different, so harsh, so cold. Yet, it was the voice that confirmed his unruly suspicions.

“Make up for your poor performance by getting the camps set up in a decent manner at the very least. I’d rather spare myself the trouble of punishing the likes of you people. You don’t wish to cross me any further, do you?” A cold, hard glare very evident on your fact that was directed to the three in front of you.

They frantically shook their heads, sputtering out a series apologies in an attempt to ease your annoyance.

“Make use of yourselves and set up immediately. By the time I come back to supervise the area, everything should be set up in a manner that is nothing less than perfect. If you wish to please me this time, do as you’re told this time. Now go.” You shook them off with a wave of a hand as they saw themselves away in an instant.

You took your time to avoid the now empty camp that rid itself of almost all remains. A hand placed itself atop the jewel that gracefully sat between your collarbones. The voices that swirled in your head chanting for more power and more life eventually died down as the constrictions of your beloved collar began to loosen, just enough so you could breathe. You let out a breathe that you had been holding before regaining your composure. You stood up straight with a proud stature before speaking out.

“I know you are there, may as well come forth voluntarily unless you want be to bring you out myself.”

Diluc’s blood ran cold when he realized that that you were most likely referring to him, baffled at how you were able to pick up on his own presence. He cautiously revealed himself and made his way a little closer to you. The second you laid eyes on the redhead, you felt like your world stopped for a second. The initial shock was replaced with amusement as the scene unfolded in front of you.

“And to think that last time we saw each other would be the last.” You said before bitterly chuckling.

Diluc took some time to muster up words and recover from his initial shock.

“You never came back from that mission. You were claimed to be dead by the guild the day after and yet here you are. The people mourned over you. I mourned for you. What has become of you, (Y/n)?” Diluc spoke out, pain and sadness laced within his tone.

“Ha, they mourned? As well as yourself? Don’t make me laugh Ragnvindr. Was your mourning perhaps an act in an attempt to keep up your reputation. Would not surprise me in the slightest if that were the case. I refuse to accept the pity of others, and I absolutely detest if it is empty and meaningless. Pity is for those who are weak and as far as I’m concerned--”

You stepped closer to Diluc before you continued.

“I’m not weak anymore.”

“(Y/n), you were never weak--” Diluc said before he was cut off.

“Bullshit Ragnvindr. Utter bullshit.” You harshly spat.

“I wasn’t able to handle myself before. I was nothing but weak. It was one of the reasons you fell out of love with me, was it not? You wanted a strong individual that could take care of themselves and you sure got one, but it wasn’t me at the time. Look now Ragnvindr, I am strong now.”

He took a better look at you as the realization of your position has begun to sink in.

“You... you’re…” In one of the rare times of his life, he was at a loss for words.

“Ah, Ah, Cat got your tongue? Poor boy can’t even muster up any words.” You chuckled mockingly.

“Fatui Harbinger, Ragnvindr. Number 12. Surely you’ve heard right?” You boldly stated.

Yes, he did hear. The Tsaritsa had taken another Harbinger under her wing yet the news and information of said Harbinger was extremely scarce and yet, No.12 stood right before Diluc.

No.12 was once his own beloved.

“What exactly led to all of this? What caused all of this to happen? What have you done to yourself?” The questions kept pouring out from Diluc’s mouth.

“It was quite simple. I got sick and tired of being weak and having things being taken from me. I have lost too many things to count and I have sacrificed many things to become who I am today. I do not regret a single thing I have done since I have started being selfish and being selfish has kept me from getting hurt again. I do not need you anymore, I do not need anyone in fact. I live for myself and to serve the needs of the Tsaritsa to repay her for giving me a chance to live the way I should’ve been all along.” You look at him with a taunting smirk on your face.

The (Y/n) (L/n) that was once known to be the beloved of Diluc Ragnvindr was dead. They died the moment you stepped out of the winery for the very last time. You were (Y/n), No.12 of the Fatui Harbingers. You were the one that sacrificed yourself to a curse upon the Dragonspine mountains in exchange for power to fill the void that was left behind. You no longer had the longing for love; you had none left after all. You craved for power and leverage over others and you refused to let people trample over you like they did before. You refused to be weak again. With the help of your new found vision as well as the curse that now burdened you, you would conquer the world and burn the old one away, along with your old self.

With no love left, there was nothing left to lose after all.

A/N: SOOOO the whole choker thing might be a little confusing but BASICALLY i took the whole concept from the “Love me, Love me, Love me.” song where the girl gets that cursed necklace/choker and i changed the concept around a little bit so that in exchange for power, dear reader has to basically slaughter things to keep the choker from killing them LOL (I’m tired pls my mind if SPIRIALING rn lmfao)

the italics in the second chunk are the weird choker speaking to the reader since it's a whole ‘curse’ thing and the bold italics in the second chunk is basically a quote from genshin from the cryo gemstone thingies and i used it to signify the reader getting a cryo vision^^ there’s a lot i wanna say but i’m too lazy to elaborate sorry lol. kinda feel like making more parts to this bc i feel like the story could go one but ehhh we’ll see how I’m feeling. i really just wanted to make a oneshot where the reader goes batshit after so ahahahahhaha. (also this fic feels lore breaking as fuck but its ok LMAO)

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #genshin impact diluc #diluc ragnvindr #angst #diluc #no love left

266 notes · View notes

izukubuns · 4 years

Note

hi!! is it alright if i can req for a scenario where shouto slowly realizes he has feelings for his childhood friend?? everyone would know that the two are pining for each other but shouto is just a lil oblivious to his feelings and his friends ;v; i hope this was specific enough!! sorry if its a bit vague;;

.:it was always you:.

warnings: shouto being oblivious, light angst

word count: 2.8k

a/n: LMAO IM SOOOOOOO SORRY THIS SPIRALED. no but truly i got emotional, so sorry if it isn’t what you wanted. im definitely willing to write another, fluffier version of this prompt in the future, though. thank you for requesting <3

“kou?”

“s-shou..”

“huh? i can’t hear you.”

your tiny hands rested on your hips as you tilted your head in confusion. you were at the grocery store, your mother was talking to a friend. this friend of hers had a child as well, and your mother had insisted that you make a friend. fine, no problem. little ol you loved making friends. todoroki, however-

“shouto!” he yelled. you were currently in todoroki’s face, your nose just a couple inches from his. he wasn’t sure why you were so close, your eyes locked on his. you blinked, then finally smiled. “oh, well why didn’t you say it before! i’m (y/n)!” you were missing a front tooth. todoroki couldn’t help but notice, and it made him laugh a little.

“ma says you’re the same age as me. that means we should be friends, right?” you said, looking at your mother, then back at the boy in front of you. “i wanna play with you, shou!”

playdates became frequent. whenever the two women would meet, they’d bring you and todoroki along with them. more often than not, your playdates were at the park. you were more rowdy than your candy cane haired friend, almost always scraping your knees for the sake of “adventure”. you had even fallen out of a tree once, resulting in plenty of scrapes and bruises.

“(y/n)! are you okay?! m-mom!” todoroki would panic, calling out for help. you’d just smile at him, always getting up and brushing it off like it was nothing. “it’s okay, shou! i’m strong! it doesn’t hurt!” there were tiny tears in your eyes, but todoroki ignored them. if you said you were strong, then he believed you.

“we’re both gonna be awesome heroes, remember? that means you’re strong, too, shou.” you’d always call him strong, pick him back up when he needed it. when really, you had always been the stronger of the two. while all might was his idol, he swore to himself that he’d become as strong as you, too.

todoroki wanted to follow you everywhere.

until eventually, the todorokis stopped showing up.

you’d always ask, “ma, how come i don’t get to see shou anymore?” “is that auntie rei on the phone? can i talk to her and shou?”

“rei and shouto are busy with their family. we’ll get to see them soon,” your mom would say, smiling and holding your hand. her smile never reached her eyes. “i miss shouto, ma. isn’t auntie rei your friend? don’t you miss her too?”

she inhaled sharply, looking anywhere but at you. “of course, baby. i miss her so much. but we’ll get to see them. another time.”

however, your mother knew that there was a large possibility that you wouldn’t see rei or shouto for a long time.

*:..｡∞♡∞｡..:*

the next time you saw todoroki, he almost didn’t recognize you. if he was being honest, he barely remembered you. after all those years that his father had put him through, he’d blocked out many things from his past.

when he first saw you again, it was the first day of class. you were talking to some classmates, your back turned to him. unconsciously, he stared at your figure, trying to figure out why you seemed so familiar. he didn’t snap out of it until he saw mina pointing at him and smiling, drawing the attention of the others. it seemed like an eternity before you finally turned around. but when you did, oh when you did.

he felt like he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him. his memories came rushing back to him as if he was on the brink of death, watching his life flash before his eyes. you grew up... quite nicely. and you were powerful, he observed.

todoroki watched as your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth fell slightly open. you moved to come closer, but then aizawa entered, ordering everyone to sit down. you sat behind midoriya, so your seat wasn’t too far from his, which resulted in him staring at the back of your head. about a week into the new school year, you finally confronted him at lunch, confirming both his and your suspicions.

“todoroki, huh? never knew you were the son of such a big shot,” you said. todoroki’s usual blank expression twisted into a frown. “whatever. it’s not a big deal.”

you flinched at the harsh dismissal of your statement, but quickly gathered yourself. “it’s funny to see you after such a long time. you really disappeared on me. my mom missed you, too,” you admitted, hoping to shift the mood. however this only upset him further, much to your confusion. he snorted, keeping his head down towards his food.

as the days went on, you prodded, trying to get him to open up, only for him to reject, or simply ignore you. this wasn’t the shouto you knew all those years ago. shouto was never this abrasive. while you two acted as normal classmates, your attempts to get him to open up were futile. though a while later, you’d soon discover the reason for his actions.

he’d admitted his past to you after the sports festival. ever since his confrontation with midoriya, he felt bad for the way he treated you. none of this was your fault, he thought. you had made him happy at one point, so why was he trying to pretend like you were a nuisance? just looking at you had frustrated him.

though, looking at you didn’t actually make him mad, it made him sad. his father had taken him away from you so soon, too soon. he wasn’t allowed to see his first and only friend. he couldn’t help but let his negative emotions take over after seeing you all these years later.

after battling with his inner self, todoroki finally resolved to apologize to you.

“my past doesn’t matter. my actions… were uncalled for. you don’t have to forgive me. i was–“

“todoroki, it’s okay. thank you for telling me. i’m glad, actually. i was worried about you. though, i would like it if we could be friends again,” you smiled that ridiculously gentle smile, making his heartbeat speed up. why was he nervous? you didn’t make him nervous.

in fact, you had always made him feel strong. safe. he used to feel like he could do anything when you two were together.

not nervous.

the two of you started growing close again soon after. while you were good friends with midoriya, iida, and uraraka as well, they noticed that you and todoroki were different.

they noticed how he’d keep his eyes on you, no matter who was talking. todoroki didn’t stare longingly at them like that. whenever you needed something like a pencil or an eraser, todoroki had already slid one onto your desk before you could even turn around. todoroki didn’t care for them like that.

they noticed how frantic he was when he couldn’t find you during the training camp incident. how he only calmed when they found you, when you assured him that you would be alright.

but most importantly, todoroki smiled at you. he couldn’t help himself. he didn’t realized how much he missed your presence. now, you were even better than before. you weren’t just brave, you stayed true to your word and became strong. he learned this all too quickly when you promptly caught him off guard and kicked his ass during training. he wasnt just impressed, he was proud of you. not only that, but you were kind. you stayed as warm as you were back then, especially towards todoroki himself. not that he’d notice.

not when he was busy smiling like an idiot.

midoriya, ever observant, was positive that todoroki didn’t realize he was doing it. he’d stop smiling as soon as his attention was off of you. sure, he smiled every once in a blue moon, but never directly at someone. especially not like that.

ya know, the longing stare, the soft smile that was reserved for you and you only. yeah, his friends knew he was in deep. when they’d confronted him about it, he was just confused.

“i’m not sure i understand. i behave that way with the rest of you, don’t i?” he inquired. uraraka sighed. “no, todoroki, you don’t. you don’t get all goo goo eyed for the rest of us.”

“goo goo eyed? what does that even mean?”

“it’s when you get all ‘uwahh’ for someone when you see them! it’s like–“

“uraraka, let me try to explain!” midoriya interrupted, worried that she’d confused him even more. he sighed before he began. “todoroki, what do you think of (y/n)?” he said slowly.

“i think they’re nice. they’re skillful in battle, and their grades are good, as well. they’d make a great hero. they’re always thinking of others, and putting someone else first. though, i wish they’d take care of themselves as well. it’s easy to tell when they’re not feeling well, but they wont admit it. th–“

“okay, stop,” midoriya interrupted, unable to bear his friends lovesickness. “now what do you think of iida?” “iida’s a reliable comrade. you are as well.” the group waited for him to go on, but that was it. midoriya almost facepalmed while iida sighed. todoroki just outed himself and still didn’t realize?

he frowned at his friends’ reactions. “did i say something wrong?” todoroki asked. uraraka smiled at him. “no, you actually said everything right.” this only confused the boy further. iida cleared his throat, looking todoroki in the eye. “todoroki, you’ve known (y/n) for a long time, right?”

“you could say that, yes.” “have you ever thought about... kissing them?” todoroki literally choked on air. kissing? you? no, he hadn’t, not even when you were kids. just like now, you two were thinking about becoming heroes back then. now that you two were even closer to accomplishing your dreams, that was the furthest thing from his mind. well, until now.

“what about hugging them?” iida pressed further. now that he was being questioned directly, todoroki finally thought about it. thought about you smiling at him, wrapping your arms around him. he thought about your laughter being reserved for him only. he thought about how your hands would fit in his.

todoroki thought about everything.

he found himself smiling, cheeks hot. but... he wasn’t using his quirk? this was quite the odd feeling to him, but the warm thoughts of you weren’t unwelcome. he bit his lip to keep the smile from growing even wider. “todoroki?” uraraka said, bringing his attention back to his friends. he cleared his throat and looked away, embarrassed. he felt… exposed. they were all smiling at him, like they knew something he didn’t. it was midoriya that spoke the words that todoroki was absolutely not ready to hear.

“todoroki, you like them. as more than a friend. and we think you should give it a shot when you’re ready.”

*:..｡∞♡∞｡..:*

he definitely wasn’t able to sleep that night. actually, for a few nights. at first it was due to his constant thoughts of you, but then his sleep schedule started to worsen because of school, stress, the usual. it was particularly bad one night, so he decided to wander in his room. later, todoroki found himself walking into the kitchen, only to find you.

of course it was you.

you didn’t notice him at first, with how quiet he was. you were still in your bed clothes, getting a glass of water. when you finished you finally turned to see him, eyes widening in surprise. “sho– todoroki?”

“oh… hello.”

“as quiet as ever, huh?” you leaned against the counter to sip your water. “couldn’t sleep?”

todoroki nodded wordlessly. moving to stand beside you, both of you staring ahead at nothing in particular. he was a bit uneasy after what his friends had made him realize. he’d thought of a million different scenarios since then. “you know, i’ve missed you,” you started. he jerked his head up to look at you, quicker than he’d intended.

you smiled, closing your eyes to think for a bit. “i was really sad for a long time when you and auntie rei stopped coming to see us. my mom and i, that is.” todoroki kept his eyes on you, taking in your profile as you spoke.

“i never forgot what we said, though. that we were gonna be strong and become heroes? i’m glad. i never would’ve seen you again if i had given up,” you said with a smile.

“i know we’re gonna be busy and everything as pro heroes. helping people, ya know? of course you do. i just… don’t want you to disappear again. i really wish i could’ve been there with you. i hate the thought of you suffering alone. being alone. at least, when we’re older, call every now and then, okay?”

todorokis chest started to ache. you’d told him that you were glad to see him again before. but saying you missed him? did you have any idea how much weight that held over his heart?

“i know we were just kids, but you were always important to me. i...” you trailed off. finally, you looked up at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “i kinda had a crush on you back then. funny, right?”

no. not funny. not at all. “i thought that maybe we could get married and be a perfect duo. both of us the number one heroes,” you said with a laugh, putting your cup down. todoroki still had his eyes on you, not believing his ears. his face was growing hotter. and hotter.

“i was even going to propose–“

his left side burst into flames.

you jumped backed, arms held in front of you, “todoroki?!” was he upset by what you said? did you set him off by talking about his childhood again?

once he realized what was happening the flames were immediately gone. todoroki looked at your protective stance, guilt punching him in the stomach. now, of all times? he could have hurt you. he never would’ve forgiven himself.

“(y/n), i’m so sorry, i do–“ he was breathing fast, too fast. “todoroki, slow down. dont apologize. im the one who should be apologizing. it was something i said, right?” you asked, cautiously coming closer. todoroki looked into your eyes. he searched for any sign of fear, disgust, but god damn it, it wasn’t there. only genuine concern they were still the kind eyes you always had. why, why were you so damn nice?

“it is what you said. what if…” his mouth was moving faster than his mind.

“you had a crush on me back then, but… what…” he looked at his feet, searching for the words, before looking back at you. you came even closer, looking at him. you silently asked him to continue. “what if i... have a crush on you now?”

your eyes grew wide, but you stayed silent. todoroki didn’t know what to do but spew more of his jumbled thoughts.

“hugging you... k-kissing you?” he hated how weak he sounded, repeating his friend’s words from before. “i want to. i want to do it, but...” slowly you reached up to stroke his hair, pushing it away from his eyes. you remembered how he liked the touch. you waited for him to tell you to stop or flinch away, but all he did was grab your arms and hold them gently. he brought them down, still holding them, as if you’d disappear if he let go. his grip shifted to your hands, as did his gaze.

“im so... damaged. i dont wanna force you to deal with me. the way i am... i don’t think i’m good enough for you. you’ve always been amazing. you’re so perfect. but i want to do these things with you. i want to be as close to you as possible, i just don’t know how, i–”

“hey, shou.”

he paused. shou. that’s right, you hadn’t called him that in years. yet, he felt his body relax and his nerves dissipate. “it’s okay. you were hurt. you’re still hurting. if i didn’t want anything to do with you, i wouldn’t be here, now would i?” you said quietly, trying your best to calm him. he shut his eyes, relaxing into your touch. his shaky breathing slowed.

“im far from perfect, ya know. i’m the one not sure if i’ll be good enough for you. but if you’ll have me, i’d be glad.”

you? not good enough for him? never. never in a million years. he couldn’t believe it took him so long to realize that he’d been craving you. he’d tried so hard to be content by himself. then, midoriya came along with the rest of his friends, picking him up bit by bit. yet, he was still missing something. you, you were his final piece.

yeah.

it was always you.

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pvremichigan · 3 years

Text

Until We Meet Again. [Arc Drabble]

TW: Vomit, blood, alcoholism mention, murder mention, memory loss

“From the look of it, I think I only need one more. Does it have to be specific? ...”

“No... Alright, makes things a lot easier. Yeah... Yeah make sure you keep contact with him, keep trying. Do whatever you gotta do.”

The voice on the other line spoke back, giving Mich a short verbal response.

“I appreciate the help. I do. One more and... Yeah, I’ll head over. When?”

The woman looked outside the window, her heart sinking the more she thought about the outcome. This was now or never... And if she hesitated, she wouldn’t be able to go through with it. It’s just her... Just her at this point. She can’t deny the fear that built up inside, but time was running too thin.

The house was nearly covered inside with sticky notes about reminders and tasks, labels and tips. It looked like a damn video game tutorial... Everywhere there was SOMETHING about something or someone. Names scattered the notes, scribbled the more she had to remind herself. This morning she had gotten confused and a bit startled at the sight of two wolves in her house. She had no idea what to do, especially considering they were following her. It took far more than a half an hour to remember that those are her own dogs... Not wolves. Their names slipped her mind more often than not.

She was a mess...

“... I’m going to shoot for tonight. Can’t stall anymore. Don’t wanna risk any of the souls losing value.”

She sounded so unsure. It was as if she was pulling away by the minute. Her brain screamed that she didn’t want to do this but at this point, she really has no choice. It’s either this... Or lose herself to the brink of death.

“Yeah- Yeah I’m still here. Just thinking. I know, I’ll uh...”

It’s getting dark.

“I’ll head out now. I’ll be in touch. Thanks, Carter.”

As soon as the call ended, the weight of Mich’s body seemed to drop her down on the couch. Her legs had given out and her hands began to shake. She felt extremely ill, blocking her mouth with her fist just in case. Her blood chilled her body, everything felt cold and numb aside from the sensation of a rapidly beating heart. Funny... Her heart doesn’t even do anything for her, yet it can still react to her mind and emotions. It certainly didn’t help the situation.

Her skin grew cold. Her face pale... All she could do was sit stranded on the couch with an anxiously bouncing leg. The sound of the world tuned out. It was only ringing... Ringing that grew louder and louder. For a moment she could’ve sworn she heard it outside of her mind. It sounded so close, so real... And so utterly loud. Her eyes stared forward in contempt, her entire being practically frozen in this loop of doing nothing but break internally. This was a prison for her, this fear had been the warden keeping her in place and refusing to let her truly approach her mistakes with vigor. The fear creating a cowardess she had to face in any reflection she walked by. The fist didn’t fix anything... A wave of blood forced it’s way out of her throat and past her lips, an unprepared silent wretch as she was forced to hunch forward, splattering onto the carpet. No bile, no mucus... Just pure blood. Her nerves got the best of her. The last time this happened... It was right after she had shot Ryan dead. She stared in shock, frozen yet again as the shaking grew worse. In that moment, flashes of that miserable night sparked in her mind. All six shots... The tears that dropped from her eyes... And the final view of Ryan desperately and weakly reaching to her before his body went limp... And he lay there dead. Since that moment, her life had spiraled downward. One mistake led to years of agony and misery.

The paralysis caused by her fear had broken as she ran her hands over her face, tired and stressed from everything that had to be done. There were too many thoughts of regrets and ‘what ifs’ and ‘if only i’... But no matter the rate of those thoughts that haunted her in this moment, it still didn’t change the fact that what was done, was done.

It had been over 3 years now... Compared to her lifespan, it was such a short time to deteriorate her mind. She never recognized the importance of a soul until her actions truly came to bite her in the ass.

Now she has no choice but to risk everything to fix her biggest mistake.

The movement out of the corner of her eye had caught her attention. the larger dog... B... The larger dog... The big one... The older dog... Why couldn’t she remember his name? Mich felt the sting of tears burn the entire area around her eyes as she truly realized in that moment how far gone she was and how there was no turning back. Her own dog, her main boy and she couldn’t even remember his name. As the reality of the situation hit, her heart had shattered into pieces. Louder and harsher than porcelain could ever dream or glass could ever achieve. The strongest material out there had shattered within it’s final moments of stability. What could anyone make of a pile of rubble, sharp and dangerous to bother with? There’s no gluing that back together.

There’s no mending that object that had been beaten by the owner and those around her. There’s no salvaging what she had.

The woman got up, legs growing weaker as she slowly and weakly made her way over to the dog. The ears of the boy lowered a bit, noticing his mother’s energy was like nothing he had sensed before. The redhead fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around the dog. The dog she owned and knew... But could not name. Her silent tears dampened his coat as she continued to hold him. This was her physical apology for everything. Everything this dog witnessed through these years. He watched her heart shatter after Brandon... Then swell after Ryan. He met his new brother who he loves dearly. He noticed Mich fall into a habit of alcoholism... Smoking more often. Altercations happening frequently if not daily. There were people she had made mad pounding at the door. The casualties and violence had skyrocketed, and there was less remorse to be found in her actions. He watched his mother fall into the worst parts of her life... Watched her breakdown after that floating man came into the picture. He watched her begin to avoid Riley and stray away from him. He watched her flinch at Riley’s name... He watched countless nights of her getting drunk and crying herself to sleep. He even watched several weeks straight go by where she didn’t get up from the couch once. Then slowly but surely... He watched her forget everything she’s ever known. Her legacy, her empathy, her mind, her family, herself... And the most painful part, her own dogs. Beaux head seemed to push against hers, as if he were holding her back to tell her he forgives her... That he still loves her. He always will.

That’s his mom...

It had been a while that she had remained on the floor with Beaux. Nearly an hour of an unmoving embrace. During that whole time she tried her hardest to recall his name... She felt like a failure when the point came to where she just couldn’t. This was it. This was the final stage of it all. If she doesn’t get to it soon... She will never be able to finish what she started.

She’ll never be able to heal.

“I don’t know your name, I’m sorry... But if I come ba- ... When I come back, things will be different... I promise. I promise you, big guy. I’ll do better. I’ll be better. I’ll be a better owner...”

“I’ll be a better mom.”

She nodded into his fur to assure him she’d return. Whether he understood her or not, the verbal promise was also a promise to herself. She will return. She doesn’t have a choice. She has things to do here... People need her.

But how long will it be...

“Take care of your brother...”

Sniffling a bit, she tries to break away to stand up, but Beaux kept his head locked around hers for just a moment longer. Strained whines nearly whistle tone whistled through his muzzle. He didn’t wanna let go... But knowing his time was up, he finally let her stand up. The whining still rang, as if his last plea for her safety. Beaux grew anxious, his paws adjusting and shifting as he sat. She gave him a tight smile, patting his head and bending down once more to give him a soft, loving kiss on the forehead. One more pet and she had to pry herself away. Not looking back, she headed down to the cellar to collect everything she needed. By everything, she means everything she needed. Because for a couple of months, or even years...

She won’t be coming back.

Jack hadn’t been home that day. It made it much easier for her to leave without a trace. She grabbed the bag full of things she needed, heading back up the stairs. Her gaze was glued to the door, her steps coming to a halt as her body forced one more hesitation.

‘It’s now or never.’

That was all she needed to break the concrete around her feet as she forced herself forwards to the door, grabbing the handle and forcing her body to twist it. As easy as a task that it was, her body’s fear was the biggest obstacle there was. A war had ensued within her, but the first battle was a success as Mich finally pried the door open and dragged herself out. She shut the door behind her, locking it up and taking a step away from the house to look at it as a whole. The memories she had... The pain these years have brought upon her. All that was to be left in the past. It’s time to finish this... It’s time to move on.

A shaky breath, she took one last good look at it. A long moment of preparation and perseverance... One last good look... Before she turned on her heel and took her final steps away. She can’t go back now. There’s no going back.

She didn’t look back.

‘Until we meet again.’

#[[Pull the Trigger]];; ic #[[Trail of Smoke]];; Drabble #[[Gun Powder]];; Mich

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

Note

How would the boys react to their s/o teasing them to the point of them snapping? X)

Oh you thirsty, thirsty fang babies. Do y'all realize my most liked and shared post is the Soundtrack Sex post? Alright you little hungry bats, only cuz I love y'all. Keep in mind since I've done a few like this before, I'm going to be diving more into each guy's individual kink. I think all of them are into some form of bdsm but to varying degrees. They're sadistic killers after all, so they'll crave that same control over their s/o. Again with each vamp having his own preferences. Get ready because this gets pretty graphic. Y'all better appreciate this, it took me two and a half frickin' days!

The Lost Boys Get Pushed to the Brink by Fem!S/O

18+ CONTENT WARNING: Sexual Themes, BDSM, Potential Triggers, Offensive Language! READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED!

David

David knows all too well what you're doing. You must think you're quite clever. The way you sway your hips when you walk across the boardwalk, dropping your purse "accidentally" and bend over to get it, pressing your breasts tightly against him for even the most casual hug. Don't think just because you're in public he won't fuck you here. David has no patience whatsoever. What he wants he'll have. You're not nearly as sneaky as you think you are when you press your butt against his crotch, leaning back so your lips are just brushing against his neck sending tender little breaths across his chilled flesh. He'll run his hands over any exposed skin you have, and just below your ear he'll coolly growl little threats.

"If you continue to tease me, little doll, I am going to fuck you until you shatter."

The words will send chills down your spine and light a fire inside you. That's not a warning, that's a challenge. When it's finally too much he'll tear you away to the nearest dark corner and rip your panties off. Just look what you did to him, the way he throbs until his erection is aching to break free. You will remember who is in charge when he hoists you right on top of throbbing his cock, balancing you with ease on his hips. He doesn't even have to hold you up, and instead uses his other hand to choke the pretty little words from that naughty mouth. Cautious not to strangle, he’ll tightly press his thumb right over the prominent vein in your neck savoring the rush of blood just beneath the skin.The gruff moans he huff out make your eyes roll back with delight. David loves the way your flesh clings to him, but you better not make a sound. If you even so much as whimper he halts his motions, leaving your body starved. No one is allowed to hear your moans but him. David doesn’t share in any way. Afterwards don't even bother asking for your panties back when you two sneak out of that secretive corner. He'll stuff then in his pocket with the most villainous grin you have ever seen.

"Consider it punishment for being such a wicked little minx, love."

Now if you're in the hotel you're not gonna get very far teasing him. He'll raise a brow, just barely looking up from his book to see you in that skin tight dress, it doesn't take him long to realize you are without a bra. If you don't come to him when called, he'll go to you. You haven't even seen speed until you deny your lover his precious doll. In a flash you're swept into his arms, thrown atop a bed laying flat on your stomach. With a slow touch, David will lift your chin from behind and lean himself against you. You shouldn't have run, shouldn’t have hid your perfect body from him. When you're alone he drags it out so much more.

Leather clad fingers will tease your lips, pushing ever so slightly but denying you the sweet release you so desperately yearn. He's such a cruel one taunting you, massaging your tender breasts just whispering into your ear. Naughty girl, are you wet already? He's just barely started. With a flick of the wrist he snaps his belt from his pants, dragging the cool leather piece over your exposed cheeks. The sting across flesh makes you moan, and again he sends a strike. David’s low chuckle is addicting. He takes a moment to admire your quivering form, tempted to leave you begging for more. That's what he wants more than anything. David desperately craves your wanton voice crying for him to defile you. He’ll just sit back, watching you lay in place. Don’t move, he’ll tell you. Instead he’ll order you to play with yourself. Show him how badly you yearn for his touch. The power fuels him, looking at your glossy eyes while your finger yourself, whimpering his name softly. When you close your eyes it breaks contact, and again he crashes the leather into skin. Never hide from him. The sensation is enough to entice a moan from you, the muscles squeezing your fingers spasming in delight. So, you wanted more. He’d chuckle again. You’re such a silly thing. All you had to do was say so. Slow strips of red surface over your ass with every erotic whip. He’s cautious to etch the border between pain and pleasure, never crossing the threshold. It’s give and take. He sees the way it sends you into a tizzy, which in turn only excites him more. Cum drips down your thighs, but he’s not ready to let you finish. Slowly David will peel away his gloves, taunting you with his precious touch. Clothes are shed to the floor in a mass of black. Lifting himself on his knees he runs a hand down your back. He taunts your soaked pussy with the belt still tightly grasped in his hands. Just look at the mess you’re making. When he pauses, hinting at his next strike you beg again.

“Please, what? Tell me what you want!"

“I wa.. want you.. to hi...hit me again..”

“Hit you..? Where? I don’t even think you said please, you greedy girl.”

“P-Please! M-master please! Hit my pussy! I-I can’t take it, please"

The hit stings, but it sends a bizarre pleasure through you. They mix in a sickly concoction. A heat of fire that causes your lips to pulse, and when he hits it again your eyes spin backward into black. He takes your wrists slowly and pins them behind, leaning over your body with his erection just barely grazing you.

“You did this to yourself, baby doll. I warned you what would happen, didn’t I?”

The wrought leather strap constricts your arms, binding them to each other while you lay face down on your knees. He’s left you completely exposed to him, ass eagerly in the air. Soaked sheets caught beneath your knees, any orgasm he had led you too was quickly denied, leaving you crashing back at the bottom just to be built up again. You're so wrapped up in the pleasure of it all, you don't realize when he commands you to scream his name; he's actually begging. Say his name. He has to hear it, he needs to hear your voice cradle his name perfectly on those luscious lips.

When you give him what he commands he finally takes you. With a hand pinning you down by the back of your neck he'll ram himself so deep you fear you may break. The twisted slaps of flesh crashing against each other is nothing compared to the crying whines that echo these endless halls. Everything is spinning, your walls are torn away leaving you to spiral into madness. Every thrust presses you further beneath. You are at his mercy, and there will be none tonight. Each orgasm you had been denied came flooding back in wild waves, spilling out onto the mattress below. His name practically burns your tongue, there is no other word you worship so endlessly. This creature of the night had you under his thumb. Tonight he had more than your love, more than your body. He was taking your soul into his hands and locking it away. Time is lost to the world. There is no before or after. Now just went on forever. Surroundings blur into wild smears of color. There is nothing beside the bed you two laid upon. His moans are a godsend, they caress your ears. Velvet, silky, David is all you know. It's a tirade of sweat and leather, stained in his cum. You can't even breathe as he fills you in floods, it's just this trembling simper. Not a drop is wasted inside your precious womb. When all is said and done, and you are a cum drenched mess David is, for once, genuinely tired after such heavy petting. Do not fear, lovely. He would never leave you to wallow in filth after he had battered you so. Its almost fluid the way he wraps you beneath fresh blankets, pressed to his panting chest. There would be no rhythm to soothe your body, rather his hypnotic touch bringing you back to Earth. With a cigarette already lit clutched between his teeth he'll coax you into taking a slow drag. You savor the bitter, ashen taste that burns your mouth. The plume of smoke leaves a veil of fog around you two, laying together while he softly praises you. His frustration was long gone giving way to his tender kisses trailing across your rosey cheeks utterly flushed

"You were such a good girl, baby doll. You did wonderfully my little kitten, I couldn’t ask for a more precious gem. Rest, you deserve it. I’ll be here when you awake."

Dwayne

Dwayne is a closet pervert. He's a lot more modest than the other guys, which is ironic considering his attire, or rather the lack of it. But it's true, he's not the type to fuck in the back of a McDonald's by the dumpster just because you went a day without undies. When you show up to the boardwalk in a low cut top he'll aggressively clear his throat with the reddest face you've ever seen. Flustered is an understatement. He'll suddenly comment how cold it is tonight and immediately sling his jacket over your shoulders. So what if he's shirtless? He doesn't get cold.

It's extremely hard for him to resist you when you're running your hands over his chest,sliding your wrapping your arms around him just playfully running your fingers through his hair. It aches, he can feel his zipper about to burst. That leopard print strapless dress doesn’t leave much to the imagination, including your bare breasts left braless just beneath the fabric, it's just perfect under his leather jacket. He’ll swallow dryly. When no one looks he feels your mischievous touch trails down over his caged erection eager to taunt his libido. One wouldn’t assume Dwayne could get so pent up, but when he’s pushed to the brink all bets are off.

You never expected to awaken a panther inside him once you two were alone. Those chocolate eyes were predatorial, wild, and that's when he takes you in his arms. A single kiss is enough to knock you off your feet. It’s melted heaven dripped onto your tongue. He draws breath from you, slowly peeling off his jacket. Your skin is so soft beneath torn, calloused fingertips caressing those trembling bumps spreading through your body. Chills, utter chills. You can’t help but rock your hips against him. Wandering lower he cups your butt until you’re tightly pressed again him, pausing those kisses. His words are soft, a sweet wine that gives you eternal life.

“Tonight, your soul is mine”

The way his voice rumbled deep in your core pushes you forward, hungry for more. But his cruelty surfaces. There will be no wild, tearing sex. He wants to drag it out. Making love can’t compare to those moments when he lays you on your back just to worship your sprawled figure. The deep, dark cave is barely illuminated by the wild flicker of candles wedged inside discarded wine bottles, the warm slips of light dipping over every curve in your body. You look like a goddess to him, and tonight you’d meet your god. Kisses trail up your silky legs, the way he shifts over you is like a tiger ready to pounce. Eyes eat you alive. His teeth drag, leaving tender little love bites. It’s an agony of anticipation swelling you. With a firm grip Dwayne tears your dress from your very body. Those same calloused fingers that taunted your skin now trailed over the dips and folds of your thighs tracing over your pelvic bone. A cascade of black hair veiled his face when he leaned in. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel hungry, labored breaths taunting your exposed womanhood. You draw in a sharp breath when his tongue slowly drags from the base all the way up and over your clit. The sensation envelopes you in waves. Slowly, aching, toe-curling licks prod at you, one after another. You wish he’d speed up, but he has you exactly where he wants you. Begging for more, utterly helpless to his will- just like you did to him. Fire wells in your lungs as you’re only able to writhe beneath him. Resistance was pointless, that iron grip kept your hips perfectly in place. He teases at your clit with wicked flicks, tracing around your most tender place. Grasps of his hair are clutched between your fingers, but it only excites him more. Dwayne will grant you mercy, slipping his tongue inside to lap up your sweet juices.

It’s impossible to truly describe the ecstasy he sends you into, Your legs hook over his shoulders just grinding your hips into his masterful grasp. Shuddering moans reverberate in empty halls, waves serenading just beyond. That edge is so nearby, dragging you by your ankles until your back arches upward. Karma is a cruel mistress indeed. Dwayne’s tongue slithers out leaving a trail of slippery fluids behind. If you try to move he’ll climb over your body, his hands pinning your arms above your head looking in your eyes. Again that monstrous tongue taunts you. Twirling over your perked breasts. With his other hand he prods at your entrance, never breaking eye contact with you. The sheer intimacy of it all is utterly ethereal. When you hear his hungry grunt just under your breath just feel another pull at your abdomen. It’s just too much, you need him. More than ever before. “Dwayne,” you whimper, thighs trembling under him. “P-Please… I..”

“Say it, princess…”

“I need you… D-Dwayne I… I need you”

You’re dwarfed beneath his body, lifted beneath your butt with his hips pressed into your lower half. Something burning pushed itself tightly in. You were barely able to accommodate his size even with how much he had spread you before. Each thrust pushed your body back further into the mattress, firm hands keeping you crushed against his heaving chest. You wrapped a leg over his wait using the base of your heel to push him further inside. Dwayne pushed against your womb desperately trying to pace himself. When he pulled back a slick suction coaxed him back inside, contracting muscles clinging to his veined member. You feel a dull ache in your back all the way up to your shoulders that tightens when he digs himself deeper. His lips caress yours, tongues eagerly tasting one another until you lock lips. He begins to moan louder. It’s a deep, almost bear-like growl. There’s a rapid pace to his thrusts now. They become erratic bucks, moans lost in each other’s mouths until you feel that familiar throb inside. It’s a burn that practically melts you. You feel more fluids squishing out, your nails dragging up his back tearing into skin until his hips stall. It’s a perfect moment, Dwayne lifting his head letting you gaze into his dark eyes carrying a flickering flame. You’re veiled beneath his hair, unable to hold back your glowing smile. When he pulls out to lay on his back you nestle in his arm up against his chest, listening to his shuddering breaths. There’s not much that can be said after that, you’re so worn out that you can barely keep your eyes open and simply savor his company until exhaustion lulls you into a heavy sleep in the arms of your lover. You definitely had to start teasing him more often if this is what you got.

Paul

That boy will chase your butt even if you weren’t teasing him. But catch him off guard, and he’ll make you regret ever getting him that pent up. You knew exactly what was up when you showed up in that busty shirt giving him a mouth watering view of your glorious tits, a teenie little miniskirt clinging to your figure, those hot fishnets under a pair of biker boots, immediately he already tries to swoop you into his arms- except you beat him to the punch. Your breasts press tightly against him, hands wrapping around his waist while you go in for the kill. Oh when you kiss his neck it makes him melt. Fine if you wanted to play, he’d play. And he’ll win. When you think it’s safe he’ll sneak up behind you to get a good handful of your ass, burying his mouth up against your neck growling into you. That’s when you start grinding it up against his pants and you’re really not surprised that he’s already hard. In a quick slip he catches his hands under your skirt.

Oh this just keeps getting better. You filthy kitty cat. He’s had enough, he pulls you to the alleyway in a mess of hot kisses. There’s barely time to react, his tongue slithering in to taste every inch of your mouth. There’s hardly a struggle when he tears a big enough hole in your fishnets for him to get access to your glorious pussy. There's the echo of vulgar clapping barely kept under by the hustle and bustle just only feet away. Paul isn't about to cover your mouth. You don't get the luxury, he wants to fuck you until the whole state of California knows you live for his cock. You shouldn't have pushed him, because now he's determined to make your head spin. The rough concrete walls scratch up against your shoulders, your front completely crushed against his heaving chest growling out snarls and heavy moans. Don't even try to beg for mercy, he'll just laugh. The whole time he's hissing into your ear.

"No more? That's not what your little pussy is tellin' me. God you're so fuckin' cute when you're screamin' my name kitten. Louder, fuckin' louder! I want everyone to know who you belong to!"

If it's not an alleyway he'll happily go into one of the larger ferris wheel kiosks. Yeah he knows you can be seen, barely kept hidden beneath a sheet of metal and a few choice windows. You don't have much choice, pulled into a straddle over his lap as soon as you get on. You're not even ten feet in the air when his fingers start to tease you.

"God you really do get a kick outta makin' me crazy don't you? You're already soaked."

Surprise, Paul had a bit of experience shredding a few tasty licks on a guitar not too long ago. Why did that matter? Because once those appendages slithered in, you almost immediately let out one of the loudest moans of your life. The way they pushed past his knuckles, swirling around, curving up hitting the sweetest spots even you hadn't touched before. It's impossible not to tightly cling to him. While you're utterly incapacitated he'll tear down your shirt and twist your pink nipple between his thumb and point finger. He'll tease you, suggesting maybe you oughta get them pierced. If you try to pull away he'll glance up towards the other kiosks just barely out of sight and smirk pulling you back into place. After all, we wouldn't want everyone else seeing how dirty you were. Everytime your body adjusted to the size he'd slip in another finger. Those muscles just sucked him in so perfectly, your sweet juices drenching his hand as he dug further inward. The moment you whine you're going to come is when the fun really begins. Paul's not just going to give it to you. Oh no, not yet. After all, you teased him, made his poor dick ache until it almost broke his zipper. It was his turn to tease you. You could hear his belt clink against itself and his fly slowly drag down. His cock practically whipped against your pulsating entrance once released, but rather than ram it right up inside where it belonged, he'd grab you by your chin and boast the most cruel, wild smile you'd seen. Stuffing himself inside, he halts watching your head immediately knock back at the sheer rush of pleasure that sent your back muscles into a spasm. With little effort he bounced you atop his lap. But you've still got a lot to make up for. Even while he penetrates you he's shoving his fingers inside as well until you're completely full, wiggling his tongue across your tits. The sensation makes your mouth hang open. There's no moans left. Just guttural whimpers barely able to make it through until you are left panting for air. You can't even keep your eyes open, it's too much to take. When you're on the brink of climax he'll halt again, burrowing his throbbing cock so deep you swear it's about to break your womb. The torture is unimaginable, he's just firmly wedged in place sending spasming pulsations that spread from the inside out. He fought the urge to ravage you. His revenge was just too cruel to give up now. WHen your hips tried to shift he planted them firmly against his naked pelvis. “Don’t fuckin’ move, or I’ll pull out.” The tight ache of your stomach just grew and grew but there was no relief! You beg wildly for him not to stop, tears edging the corners of your eyes. Do it more. Scream his name!

Everything inside burns white hot, gushes of sticky wet juices squirting onto his lap and the seat beneath you. For a moment you could feel your soul trying to fly away. After all you just experienced nirvana, fucking Valhalla on steroids. It's easily a good five minutes before you can even speak instead of just moaning out slurred vowels. When you do come to, you immediately slug him in the shoulder. Jeeze! You were teasing him, he was just flat out torturing you! "Well next time don't fucking tease me, my dick was just dying for you, kitten!" After you've got feeling back in your legs he'll release the ferris wheel attendant and take you out for a sweet treat, probably ice cream. Oh yeah! He almost forgot. You watch as he fishes out a pair of your panties, a souvenir from your many sex exploits. Don't get him wrong, he'd rather you be commando, but you were still oozing out cum. Besides, he wasn't patient but he could wait an hour to tear into you again. W-wait? An hour? Again??

Marko

The moment you stepped foot on the boardwalk he knew something was up. Since when did you own a skirt that short? You practically jumped into his arms when you spotted him, a chill running over his flesh. Your bra was missing, perked nipples rubbing into his chest just beneath the tight fabric of your shirt hugging your breasts perfectly. Now he’s not nearly as ballsy as Paul or David, he can’t just fuck you in the alley. Well, he could, but the situation called for drastic measures. He wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction of riling him up. Rather, he has to plan this out just right. Revenge is a dish best served cold- WHICH ISN'T EASY WHEN YOU'RE OVERHEATING HIM!

God, it aches! Half the time he doesn’t leave any sort of counter or object he can lean on to hide away his pressing member begging to be unleashed. Plans would have to be dragged out, apparently this naughty girl wanted a whole date to torture him with. At the arcade he nearly lost his damn mind when you bent over to fish out your quarters from the machine. Yooooouuu vicious kitten, this was torture! When he stuffs his hands in his pockets he finally finds your panties, snuck in there while you had been hugging him. While you tore it up at the pinball machine he’d lean on you from behind. From any outside point of view it was just a boyfriend hugging his girl from behind. What couldn’t see was Marko’s hips grinding into your tender body barely kept safe under that tiny cut of fabric. When he whispered, he’d warn you what’s going to happen if you keep all this behavior up. Do you want him to go crazy, you wicked kitten?

“Careful what you’re doing, baby girl,” he’ll hiss in your ears, his fingers just barely brushing across the edge of your skirt. “When I get you alone… you’re mine.” At first it seems like a bluff. However you didn’t often send him into a fuss quite like this. Any teasing was at the hotel, little kisses and bites. Never was he denied for so long leaving him clinging to you. Every grasp craves you, but no matter how he snarls wicked begging into your ear you torture him further, even slipping from his arms when he least expects it. Tender kisses could never reach the passion you taunted him with. The loss of touch leaves him cold and yearning for more. At his brink, Marko practically tears you by your waist into his arms, jagged blue eyes cutting past your mischief. He’s taking you home. Now.

The entire ride across wind blown dunes and crashing shores he never releases you. Even as you rapidly step over debris scattered around the hotel’s entrance he cuffs his fingers around your slender wrist. Tonight you’ve made a very grave error denying him. For hours. Hours! Hours of watching you saunter about with nothing beneath, egging him on until he was ready to break. Now, it was his turn to punish you for your wicked ways. Marko had always been a tender lover, his dominant behavior kept cautiously under wraps. After all, he was afraid to frighten you off. No longer. With a firm flick of his wrist he practically throws you on the bed, pinning you in place by your neck. The force from the fall alone nearly knocked the air from you. There was an eerie silence for a moment, a dark tension emanating off of your boyfriend. His breathing would be sharp and trembling just barely keeping himself composed.

Honestly the urge to smirk is just too hard to pass up. Marko loved to tease you, rubbing up against your butt, nibbling on your neck when no ones looking, yet throw you in some tight clothes where he can't have you and suddenly it's unfair. His kisses ravage your mouth. There's little room to breathe. Wet appendages spiral in desperate taste for more. It physically hurt you to feel him pull away, leaning forward trying to keep the kiss going.

"Uh uh," he taunted, fangs poking through his smile, pushing you onto your back again. "You were too cruel, baby girl. Now I get to have my way."

Using the panties you had previously crammed into his pocket he tightly tied your wrists together until the fabric began to dig into your flesh. Slowly he trails his claws over your clothing, tearing through it in one painstaking cut leaving your body utterly exposed to him. The cold night air dances around you, any movement halted as if invisible strings held you in place. Hungry gazes froze your blood. Flicking his thumb nail just over your pelvis, Marko savored the tiny hiss you unleash. Little beads of ruby decorate you with an enticing aroma. Pulling himself between your bare legs he took a slow, deep inhale of that hypnotic ambrosia. His tongue dragged over your wound sending a thin sting up your thigh. While his tongue tore at bloodied flesh his gloved fingers traced just over the flesh above your clit. The anticipation alone made your toes curl. Time slipped through your fingertips tips like sand through the hourglass. Every painful minute he edged closer to you, and when that cold touch reached your aching mound it swept away your thoughts in one foul swoop. How he managed to leave you so weak from a simple touch was beyond comprehension. You tried to squirm when he pet at your entrance with a single finger, but he immediately hooked his arm around one leg while using his knee to pin down the other. "You're not getting out of this," Marko hisses, pressing his nail into the wound until a trickle of crimson fluid spilled over into the crevice between your thigh and pelvis. He tempted it further, smearing layers of color across your womanhood watching it stain.

Already drips of clear, slippery fluids drenched his fingers, just barely pushing in to feel your muscles tighten. Any contact swallowed them. If you were a good girl and held still he'd push further, tempting a third finger. Now come on, he knew you could do better than that. In went a fourth, spreading you open watching with amusement as all your juices spill down onto the mattress beneath you. He laps up the sweet taste, sucking it off his fingers and leaving you still aching from more. Just look at you, so eager for him to be inside you. Marko throws his shirt and pants to the floor. You can see his pulsing shaft pressing up against the fabric of his underwear. Firmly he pulled you up by your bound hands, teasing your bottom lip with his thumb. He’d rub his fingers against your tongue, the soft appendage wrapping excitedly over his knuckles. With his freshy wet hand he'd pinch your nipples, waiting for the inevitable whimper that gave him an opening to ram his own tongue back inside your mouth. A vulgar string of saliva barely kept your mouths connected when he pulled away, holding up your chin with his pointer finger. "I think you need more than just a little tease, don't you?"

When you nod he weaves his fingers beneath your hair and grasp it towards the scalp, bending your head back. Fangs brush on your neck, tugging at tight skin easily broken. Laying with his back against the headboard he yanked you over to him, pulling you down so you were balancing on your knees and forearms.

"Suck it." The command was so firm, you almost thought you misheard him. No, you wanted it so bad? Fine. Now you got it. Open up, or he'd leave you drenched, trembling, on the edge of orgasm. With wrists still restricted you pulled away his boxer unleashing his wild erection that eagerly pressed against your mouth. Marko will sit like a king in his throne with fingers woven through your hair. He makes sure it's all out of the way and in his grasp, watching your mouth bobbing up and down his shaft leaving slippery trails of saliva in its wake. His hips will begin to buck on their own with his tip grinding into your tongue. There’s a small push at the base of your skull, coaxing you further down. “There you go baby, get as much as you can fit in there, suck it nice and good.” You can feel his muscles tense under your grasp but you don't stop, continuing your relentless barrage until he snaps. All that pent up ache will flood your mouth in one foul swoop. It's hot, sticky, sweet and before you dared to open your mouth he pinched your nose. You better not waste a fucking drop. When he’s felt you’ve learned your lesson he gently pulled you on top of him, teasing your aching lips, swelled, pulsing, begging for release with the burning tip of his cock. You were such a good girl, taking all of him in like that, think you can do it again?

Leaning back with you on top where he can watch you, he rocks his hips back and forth with such force it bounces your breasts, his conniving whispers commanding you to never look away. His icey blue orbs lock with your own. Utterly hypnotic. Sloshing squelches of liquids were churned around inside you. It pushed further with muscles tightly contracting around him. Your body is coated in a tender mist of perspiration, whimpers and whines creating a symphony of erotica that leaves you feeling a well of humiliation. There’s nowhere to hide from Marko’s prying eyes, he’s watching every curve, ever fold, every perverted expression contort your beautiful face and he lives for every moment. Your hips move on their own, grinding your clit against his pelvis while his veined shaft spirals around inside you. Vision fades in and out, all you can do is feel fire running through your veins. He felt so cold inside yet it burned. As you edge towards climax Marko lifts himself up and hooks your bound arms over his neck. Your raw nipples rub up on his bare chest, burying your face into his neck where a mass of messy curls cradle you. The intoxicating scent of your body sends him into a frenzy, grasping your ass assisting you in slamming down harder and harder until that deep, overwhelming tension bursts like a flooded dam. A rush of liquids squirt out, feeling him stretch out your insides. It fills you, and rather than pull out he holds you in place. The sensation of you pulsating causes his hips to buck until he slams into your womb with a final spray of cum painting your lower abdomen. Barely able to pull himself out he releases your raw wrists, stealing a hot kiss from your quivering lips. You just look so cute painted in his cum. Maybe next time you’d think twice about taunting him. Now that your punishment has finished, he crashes onto his back with you on top. Even he had to catch his breath. There is no guilt, but that doesn’t mean he won’t praise the hell out of you for being such an angel. He’ll practically hum when you play with his hair while he rubs your back, peppering kisses all over your head and cheeks.

“I’m… sorry for teasing you,” You whimper out, nestled in the crook of his neck. His chuckle makes his chest spasm, lithe fingers tracing shapes over your shoulders.

“Don’t be sorry baby girl, you did amazing. Maybe next time I’ll try to be gentle, hm?”

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gustafsnightangel · 4 years

Text

Shattered Lives Ch 17 Pt 1

She slept late and he smiled watching her so relaxed, at peace. No alarm set, no baby and children to wake up to and care for. For a brief slice of time she had no responsibilities except to sleep, recharge, and be the sexy lady who’d stolen his heart and soul. It was a break she needed and would continue to need.

He grinned and pulled the sheet over his head as he kissed his way down her ribcage, over her hip, and gently parted her legs to settle between them. She shifted slightly but he drifted his hands up her thighs to soothe, his thumbs applying pressure to muscle to arouse. With her as open to him as possible while she was asleep he began to pull her from her dreams.

Her brain first registered a glorious sensation between her legs. The tender kisses from a mouth she craved peppered her inner thighs, the dip between thigh and pussy. His scruff tickled and poked sensitive skin, fingers gently stroking breast and nipple. A seductive way to be woken up. She was groggy when her eyes fluttered open, the cobwebs of sleep still heavy in her brain.

He felt her body awaken, the slight movement of her hips toward his mouth and hands. Hearing the soft sigh as he caressed his hands down her torso he licked her from pussy to clit his tongue flat. Her body arched lazily and a small moan escaped that talented mouth when he sucked on her clit gently.

This wasn’t about making her come straight away. This was about feeling his woman lose control, letting herself go. Watching her come undone at his touch, finding pleasure.

He feasted on her as she tried to form coherent words, engage her brain, but that wasn’t happening anytime soon. She let her mind wander to his mouth on her clit, the tongue that seductively swirled at her entrance, the clench of her pussy at the thought of him making her come.

Those erotically destructive hands at her breasts, fingers she longed to have inside her weaving their own form of magic. With each gentle pinch and soft squeeze she felt the tingle inside her pussy only making her wetter for him. She slid a hand under the sheet to caress fingers over his scalp, the tender touch making him moan. Her beautiful man pleasuring her so sweetly.

He built her arousal slowly, painstakingly bringing her from sleep with his touch. His hand trailed down her torso and under her leg to brush her inner thigh. It crept closer and closer to her entrance only to trail down the other thigh. He stroked over tender flesh, arousal points that he knew made her wet and wanting, building the anticipation of that finger entering her.

He could hear the soft whimpers for him to touch her, to slide his digits over her labia and in. She arched and cried out as one pad of his finger circled and dipped into her wetness before he pulled away. He continued this until two fingers were slick with her juices.

He V’d his fingers and slipped them up her labia to stretch her open as his tongue flicked her clit. Torturing her for what felt like hours as her body succumb to his touch she writhed against him, the noises it elicited from her throat were fine music on a Sunday morning.

He let her teeter on the edge of an orgasm and held her there. His fingers grazed her labia and the single digit circled her entrance. The heat of her made his cock twitch, he’d be buried in there soon enough. With her strangled gasp he slid that finger into her, those silky walls eager to feel him.

He curled his finger inside her as he withdrew it, slowly finger fucking her to keep her on the edge. He kept it tortuously slow and had her arching off the mattress as a second finger joined the first, hands now fisting in the sheets, a desperation to find release.

He was going to destroy her before she’d even stepped out of bed. Those slender, ultra long fingers slipped in and out of her, the pads expertly finding her g spot with every stroke. He’d kept her on the edge for an eternity and she was desperate for release, to have him let her shatter.

“Gustaf please.” She choked as those fingers became three inside her and the delightful stretch had her gasping.

His arm wrapped around her hips and pinned her tightly to the mattress and to his mouth still tormenting her clit. With skilled timing he pumped his fingers and curled them to scrape the spongy spot inside her that would tip her over. Gentle flicks of his tongue on her clit and the suction from his mouth had her whimpering as she crested.

Instead of backing off to prolong her torment he continued to send her spiraling over the edge into bliss, her cry hoarse as her body arched and ground against his mouth. He kept going until it was spent and ebbed away.

“Nothing like dessert for breakfast.” He murmured as he kissed his way up her body and sucked his fingers clean. “You taste so good love.” He nuzzled her throat and nipped the pulse there as she tried to breathe normally.

“You sir, are evil.” She kissed him chastely. “But what a mind blowing way to wake up.”

“The best way.” He kissed her and sighed as he gently slipped inside her.

She wrapped her legs around his slim hips and held onto him while he thrust. The sensual feeling of his cock filling her. He made love to her, bodies pressed together tightly, mouth tasting. Her hands roamed that toned body moving with her, she couldn’t help the squeeze of his ass as she pulled him into her, the massive chest pressing and sliding against her breasts.

Her hands gripped his ribs before frantically finding his shoulders as her climax rolled through her. His groan and slightly faster thrusts made her rock her hips with his to take him deeper.

“Sildie.” He breathed before a grunt of satisfaction escaped him as he came. That blissful release of pleasure. He scooped her into his arms and rolled so she was on top. She snuggled her head under his chin and listen to his heart thunder as he caught his breath.

“Good morning love.” He murmured.

“Good morning.” She chuckled. “And what a morning you e already made it.”

“It certainly is a good one so far.” He laughed.

“Nap time now.” She giggled.

“For a little while at least.”

They lay in each other’s arms, in the afterglow of sex and pleasure. There was no need for words, the gentle strokes of fingers against flesh, tender kisses, and the comfort and warmth of just being together.

She pried herself from him to take care of morning bathroom business while he lay there wondering what else she had planned for him. He watched her walk back from the bathroom, sit on the edge of the bed, and started to pull his shirt on from yesterday. She had both wrists in the arm holes when he struck. He snaked an arm around her waist and grabbed the fabric between her wrists pulling her back onto the bed laughing.

He tucked her in close, determined to have her against him for longer. She turned her head so she could kiss him playfully.

“Clothes are not acceptable today until you’re walking out the door to go home.” He growled and kissed her roughly.

“Is that so?” She played.

“House rules, my house.” He kissed that mouth he craved even though it hadn’t left his for long.

“And besides.” He murmured. “I haven’t finished rocking your world yet.”

She sucked the air from his lungs with that smoldering look from under her lashes.

“I thought I was rocking yours.” A look that unmistakably said fuck me. She deliberately bit down on her bottom lip to tease him, knowing full well what it did to the man wrapped around her.

His hand roughly gripped her breast as the other dived between her legs to stroke her as he devoured that mouth and freed her lip. She was already wet for him and sighed into his mouth as his fingers started their destruction.

“You push me too far this early in the morning love. Putting clothes on, biting that lip.” He growled against her ear. “Now you’ll just have to lay there and take whatever I dish out.” He nipped the shell of her ear and heard the whimper as his finger slipped into her heat to the first knuckle and circled.

“Take it.” He whispered.

She pushed against his hardening length as his thumb rubbed over her clit and made her gasp. He groaned softly at the slight movement from her ass as it nestled against his cock.

“All of it.” In that low tone that made her shudder, as his lips ghosted her ear, teeth grazing as he lost himself to the task at hand, and the erotic woman writhing under him.

“All of me.” He slipped that digit in to the second knuckle and continued to circle it, teasing her most intimate spots.

His fingers slowly tormented her body into a trembling mess. Those hands were gentle one minute demanding and rough the next, it sent her to the brink of madness. He’d held her to him in such a way that she couldn’t move, her wrists still tangled in the shirt. Her moans and gasps begged him to enter her, to put her out of her misery. She wanted his cock more than her next breath.

“Gustaf, please.” She whimpered.

“Oh no love, I’m not done with you yet.” His breath was hot on her neck and his lips grazed her throat which only heightened her arousal. He wanted her dripping for him when he finally took her.

“I warned you that you would get more than you bargained for in teasing me.” He said seductively.

He continued his barrage on her senses bringing her to the brink of orgasm and then backing off. She lay there panting and wanting, her tormentor sending her brain into a tailspin as he kissed her neck and shoulder.

“I will make you scream for me.” He murmured in that erotic tone. “Beg for me to take you.”

He ran his hand down the leg on top and hooked her by the knee, rolling so she was on top of him, her spine running along his chest. He brought his knees up to rest his feet on the mattress between her thighs and gently opened them, it stretched her hips wide so her groin muscles burned.

He gripped the shirt between her wrists and gently pulled them up over his head to rest under his neck, twisting the shirt more so she couldn’t escape it’s confine. Those talented fingers trailed her forearm and over her elbow.

“Relax your arms.” He murmured and shifted slightly so she would be comfortable.

Her shoulders relaxed and her elbows fanned outwards, those luscious breasts now pushed out for him to claim. Deft fingers caressed the swell of her breast, lightly touching her nipple before pinching and flicking it to the threshold of pain. Her moan sent a thrill through him.

His fingers caressed the inside of her thigh gently raking his nails over soft tender flesh. He let his knees drop outward which opened her to him more, those delicate folds ready to be aroused, teased.

With his head propped up on a pillow he could see the vision she was. He looked down the length of her body, arms splayed out as if they were clasped behind her own head, legs and hips spread wide begging him to touch her. That vision alone almost cracked his control.

She arched against him as two digits circled her slick heat. She was soaked for him now from anticipation of what he was going to do to her. She couldn’t move, completely at his mercy, or lack thereof if he desired and it sent shivers through her.

“Please.” She breathed as he positioned his hard shaft along her pussy so she knew it was there but couldn’t have him yet.

“What do you want?” He asked as she quivered at his touch.

“You. Please.” It was a whispered groan as he flexed his hips so she felt his cock move against her skin.

Her whimpers grew with each stroke of her heat, that glorious sound making him lose his mind to be inside her. He waited until her body shook with need, lips begging him to take her before he guided the tip of his cock inside her. She arched as his hand stroked her torso keeping her pinned to him.

“Gustaf please.” Her cry was one of urgent need.

“You ready to take me love?” He growled.

“Please.” Her cry was choked.

He inched slowly into her letting her feel every part of him as he filled her. He felt her body yield, give herself to him, shaking with desire, with a need that was overwhelming her system.

“All of me?” His groan was guttural as her pussy gripped him, pulsing against his cock.

“Please.” She repeated, over and over, those soft whimpers making him lose his mind with ecstasy.

She felt him shift beneath her before a slow hard thrust buried him fully inside her. He bit down on her neck and groaned as she squeezed him.

He spread his feet wider and dropped his knees further out to push her hips as wide as her body would allow. She’d be sore after this. Nipping her shoulder he pulled out and thrust back in, torturously slow, once and once only. Both hands wandered her body, fingers caressing, pinching, exciting.

He remained still inside her, buried deep while his hands cupped her breasts. Her gasps grew as he pinched her nipples until they were erect buds and sensitive. He felt her pussy clench and search for any friction she could to tip her over the edge. Her cry was of desperation.

“Gustaf.”

“Do you want me to fuck you love?” He murmured seductively.

“Yes.” She was panting now completely lost to him and the erotic sensations he was inflicting on her.

“Soon.” He growled and slipped his finger over her juicy folds.

He whipped her body to the edge of her pending climax and pulled her back from it. Those clever fingers dipping low, flicking her clit, bringing her to the edge of euphoria only for it to be taken from her before she found release. Painfully slow, incredibly erotic.

She couldn’t think, she didn’t even know if she had brain cells left to think with. He’d destroyed her yet she wanted more of him. She was so desperate to feel him fuck her.

“Please.” She tried to reach down and grab his wrist to urge him to touch her where she wanted him to but the shirt that bound her wrists wasn’t budging.

He gently stroked her arms and she stopped struggling.

“Leave them there love.” He whispered and kissed her just below the ear.

“I need you.” She needed to grip something.

“You have me.” His lips brushed her shoulder and she felt the smile. “All of me.”

His teeth grazed her neck.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He whispered, and nipped her jaw.

“Yes.” She choked as his finger slipped over her clit, over her labia. Those rough then gentle strokes sending her into a frenzy.

“Soon.” He growled nipping her ear, the erotic torture fueling his own arousal.

“I want you to remember this the next time you bite that gorgeous bottom lip.” He growled. “Remember that each time you do it, each time you think about doing it, this is but a glimpse of how I’m going to fuck you.”

He felt her pussy clench at his words and he started to move, devastatingly slow. Both hands cupped her breasts squeezing the ripe orbs as he thrust, slow and deep.

“A taste of the pleasurable punishment I’ll inflict on you if you keep doing it.” He growled knowing he’d have her wet just thinking about it, or when she caught herself doing it.

She was pinned, immobile, with his thick cock slowly destroying her. It was deliciously erotic torture and even though it sent a brief ripple of fear through her that quickly turned to arousal to know he wasn’t done.

His hands drifted between breasts and clit until he’d worked her to the edge again. Her whimpers of pleasure only fueled the fantasy they were both in. He felt her body shudder before she came, unable to move much it tore her apart as he’d intended.

He was in complete control and tipped her over twice more before he sensed she was almost done. He quickened his pace, hips soon pistoning into her, the arch and cry from her the only sounds she could form.

“My beautiful goddess.” He murmured and kissed the spot below her ear. “I want you to scream for me when you come.” He wanted to hear the ecstasy from her lips.

His fingers slipped to her clit and worked hard circles over it in time with his thrusts. The frantic rhythm making her choke and gasp as she crested.

“Go over love.” He breathed as his own release surged forward.

“Gustaf.” She cried, right before her body went taught. Her hands struggled against the shirt binding her as she screamed, the powerful release almost snapping her spine as it shattered her.

“Sildie.” He groaned as her pussy gripped him tightly before it pulsed and milked him as he plunged into her riding out their pleasure.

Her legs shook violently as he slowed to a stop, the energy expended and position tiring them. He brought his knees together slowly and guided her legs down. Her hiss was one of concern.

“I’ve hurt you.” He said gently.

“No, just a little stiff it’ll be fine.” She chuckled. It had felt amazing, so what was a little soreness after.

He lifted his head and brought her wrists in front of him. Removing the shirt binding he kissed where she had been bound. Relaxing them on her chest he reached down and ran a hand over her hips.

“You sure you’re ok?”

“More than ok. That was incredible.”

He rolled slightly and guided her to the mattress.

“Roll over. Look at me.” He said and tugged her hip. He was concerned that he’d hurt her a little more than she was admitting to. Her kiss however remedied that, sinful and wicked.

“I might have to bite my bottom lip more often.” She purred and a sly grin twitched at his mouth. “I’m fine love. I’ll tell you if I’m not.”

“To your own detriment love.” He said seriously with a wicked grin of his own. Damn he loved playing this game with her.

“So are you home until after Christmas?” She asked snuggling in and toying with his scruff.

“February ish but I have a few overnight trips here and there dotted in between. Why?”

“I’m thinking of a getaway vacation to the snow for the kids. Wanna come too?” She asked quickly not sure if he would be down for it.

“I go where you go. I’d love to.” He kissed her sweetly, it was good to see those eyes he loved clear of guilt and grief for the moment even though it was still there under the surface, good to hear her planning trips for the kids. “Where are you thinking?”

“Might look into the resort we went to Friday, see if they have cabins or something.” She drew lazy patterns on his chest with her fingers for the sheer joy of feeling him, touching him. “Getaway, read books, have snowball fights, drink hot chocolate, toast marshmallows, go sledding. Good fun stuff away from everything and everyone for a bit. I think it’ll be good for us.”

“That’s sounds so good I want to go right now.” He snorted.

“After the last few weeks you’ve had, I don’t blame you.” Knowing full well she was responsible for this past week being extra shitty. She stretched up to kiss him. After dealing with their shit Thursday she was surprised he was still here at all. “Tea?”

“Mmmm and food.” He rolled so he was on top of her and kissed her seductively. “I have a hankering for pancakes, maybe some fruit, Kladdkaka, and you.” He kissed her again with that sweet tenderness that warmed her to her toes. “Not necessarily in that order.”

“I need food and tea.” She chuckled as she pushed him off dramatically and got up. “Then you.”

He got to his feet and held out her robe for her.

“I thought it was a no clothes day?” She smirked.

“It is. Technically a robe isn’t clothing.” He grinned as she slipped her arms in the sleeves. “Besides. I like you in this robe.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her temple breathing her in. “Because it has access points.” He slipped a hand between fabric and skin to gently cup her breast to prove his point before pulling his sweats on. No way was he cooking nude, bad combination.

“Cooking and sensitive bare skin isn’t a good game plan. Pan frying my own wiener isn’t on the agenda today.” He said seriously at her raised eyebrow. Her laugh made him grin wider. She took his hand, kissed it and lead him out of the bedroom to the kitchen. He pulled her into his arms again once the kettle was on to boil just to have her close.

I just have to open my mouth and say it he thought, right now, it would be perfect. He opened his mouth but again the words got stuck and he almost burst into tears. Why couldn’t he say it?

“Will you tell me love?” She asked gently sensing the stress and battle going on in his mind.

Fuck he thought, she’s just as sensitive to emotional swings as I am. “I can’t right now.” He breathed, how did he explain he loved her and wanted to say the words to her but they wouldn’t come.

She turned in his arms and kissed him. “I’m not pushing, I’m just worried about you, want to help you. Don’t shut me out ok?”

“I’m not, I promise, I just need to get my head around it first.” He kissed her, that unbound love he only set free for her.

“I’ll hold you to that.” She said as a smile ghosted her lips.

“I know you will, with lawyers precision.” He quipped, using humor to mask the real pain.

“You know it.” She kissed him sinfully, drawing him under her spell, she bewitched him like no other. “You are everything to me Gustaf.” She whispered and kissed him again, her love for him flooding his system. “Never forget that.”

“I won’t.” He looked at her a little stunned at her words as she turned the whistling kettle off.

She would draw the poison out of him, coax it from him. Something had happened in the snow that had set this off. Fucking triggers she thought, they were brutal. She knew, gut feeling knew, this was about Ana and the struggle he had dealing with her treatment of him. She couldn’t force him to deal with it, but by god she’d never stop trying to reassure him he wasn’t alone, and that she cared.

He pulled it together and started making pancakes, the task settling him. He’d work on it, for her he’d get through it and say those fucking words. He smiled slightly as the smooth jazz suddenly filled the apartment, her arms around his waist a moment or two later. She grounded him, that feeling of another person close to you, just being there. She kissed him between the shoulder blades before resting her head there, those hands finding the bare skin of his chest and holding herself to him.

She felt him relax into it, those tense muscles giving in and letting go. He kept cooking as she just stood there holding him. Sometimes that’s all it took to settle, knowing someone was there for you.

His hand came up to rest on hers as he finished the pancakes and she released him long enough to turn in her arms.

“Thank you.” He whispered and squeezed her tightly.

“Anytime, you know that.” Her finger trailed his jaw and that kiss made his head reel. It simply said I care about you. He knew she did, but the darkness of his demons, he’d never inflict those on her. He couldn’t.

She let him go and poured the hot water into the teapot, carrying it to the table Gustaf took the pancakes with him. She watched him and wished he’d talk to her. She left it for now, she’d give him the space he’d asked for. She grabbed the Kladdkaka and some fruit and went to sit down.

He pulled her into his lap after she’d placed everything in her hands on the table, wanting her close. It was a typical lovers breakfast full of stolen kisses between bites, tea, Jazz, and the occasional wandering hand. She got up to put the kettle on for another pot of tea and felt his hand at her hip.

He turned her to face him and took her hand to start slow dancing her around the kitchen. The action saying more than he’d probably intended she thought.

“I love it when you do that.” She murmured and looked at him.

“Do what?”

“Drop your guard, let me in.” She kissed him gently and smiled at his puzzled look. “Let me in here.” She added and put her hand on his heart along with his still in her grasp.

“That’s providing Lily put it back there to begin with.” He scoffed.

“Don’t do that.” She said sternly and he looked at her, pain looked back and she eased up. “Don’t laugh it off like it means nothing because I know it does and that’s what hurts.” She kissed him sweetly. “I know you’re hurting but don’t lock it away from me.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “Force of habit.”

“You’re protecting yourself and I get it and one day I hope you’ll talk to me about it but don’t go where I can’t reach you love.” She kissed him with a longing he’d not felt from her before. A plea for him to trust her.

“I need to work through it first and then I’ll tell you. I just can’t.” He choked. “I can’t right now.”

She stopped dancing and took his face in her hands. He looked at her eventually and her heart broke. Something was really eating at him. Ana was eating at him, she knew exactly what the something was.

“I’m not her love.” She gently.

“I know, it’s just...” it’s just I love you and I don’t know how to fucking say it he said silently. “It’s deeper than that.” He choked back the sobs that wanted to tear from his lungs, swallowed them down and kissed her. “I can’t let it touch you.” He whispered.

“It already is love.” She ran her thumbs across his cheeks and kissed him. She turned the kettle off as it broke into song and turned back to him.

She couldn’t pry anymore out of him and left it at that. Men and emotions worked differently than women. Women tend to just cry it out, men chewed on things a little longer trying to find every possible angle to try and fix it. Pulling emotions from a guy was next to impossible but she wouldn’t give up on him. She would wait, there would come a time where he’d crumble and she’d make damn sure she was there for him as he’d been for her.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized again, he couldn’t say it, he couldn’t even think about saying it right now.

“It’s ok, I’m sorry too. I want to help you and be there for you too and it hurts when I see you cut up like this. When you’re ready you can talk to me about it ok? Together remember.” She kissed him with all the love she could.

“I remember.” He murmured against her lips.

“Dance with me love. Be with me.” She said gently and started to sway. Without another word he wrapped her tightly against him and danced with her. The music, the motion, the gorgeous woman in his arms. She rested her head on his chest and listened to his heart beating, willing every ounce of her love heal it, fill his soul with it.

She was right of course. It was already touching her. It had found its way into this weekend, a weekend she had planned for him. It had upset her because it was eating at him, had been eating at him for days now. He had to deal with it, and the only way he could do that was on his own.

He would spend the next few weeks working the bag and meditating on it, sort it out in his head. He had the time while Sildie was at work, the kids at school, no excuses. Now that he had his game plan he shoved it down and away hard, locking it in a dark corner of his mind with the rest of his demons.

He let it go for the moment, he had to. Today with Sildie was more important than that, to be in this moment with her. He let the music take him, the scent of her, the warmth of her. It calmed him and he felt his mind settle.

She felt him come back to her, shut it away again and that hurt her more than anything else, he’d shut her out. She knew why, to protect her, shield her, she’d done the same thing but it still stung.

“Come sit and have tea.” She murmured and kissed him softly.

“Tea sounds good.” He watched her pour the water over the leaves and place the lid on the teapot. He’d hurt her by pulling away and he felt like shit. “I’m sorry Sildie.”

“Enough now.” She said and smiled at him. “Let it be.”

#gustaf skarsgard #shattered lives #gustaf skarsgard fanfiction

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vannminner · 4 years

Text

Where Magic Flows

A03

FanFiction

Part Three: Of the Water

Nokk remained at Elsa's side until the sun set; when the stars began to twinkle amongst the night sky. Only when full darkness surrounded her, did Elsa start for camp. Watching her go, Nokk was sadly forced to return to the sea. His lost eyes pulled back to her, only briefly, and then he faded into an incoming wave.

Regretfully, Elsa had to wonder if that was the last time Nokk would truly be her ally? As with the others, his time to rebel would come. Nokk would revolt against the forest, and leave this place behind. He would be lost to these lands, searching the seas for somewhere new to live out his days.

As she walked back to her hut, Elsa considered what might be coming next. After Nokk turned, would she call back the village, or should she wait and see if someone stepped forward? If this was all a ruse to render the forest defenseless, leading an attack after Nokk would be the logical ploy.

And how would their villain enter the picture? Elsa's thoughts continued to spiral amongst her mind. What face would this enemy have, and what was their end goal? Would they lead an attack, or would they make the time to explain? There was so much Elsa hadn't considered before now. Yet, her time was up. She was at the brink of the end, and she could feel it. Her days had been filled with so much turmoil lately, she failed to realize just how many had gone by.

Feeling anxious, Elsa knew sleep would be a moot attempt at passing the time. She wasn't certain her mind was even capable of resting at this point. Still, there was nothing left to do but wait; wait for Nokk's rebelion, and wait for their villain to appear.

Upon returning to camp, defeated and stressed, Elsa dragged her feet toward her hut.

She fell back on the bed with a thump. Her eyes held wide at the ceiling, stomach unsettled and appetite, low. What she did next made no difference in the grand scheme of things. The only guarantee Elsa had, was that she'd face whatever she needed to when that time came. She could plan, and she could worry. Yet, neither would help her in the long run. Elsa knew she should gather her strength; prepare herself to do the next right thing. However, she hated not knowing. It made her impatient and uncomfortable.

Despite the thought that she would be unable to sleep, Elsa decided she must have. One moment her eyes were open, and the next; she was fighting a haze of fatigue to push herself to sit. Rising, Elsa didn't know how long she'd been unconscious. Only the desperate need for more proved that it couldn't have been for longer than an hour or two.

When she was fully alert, Elsa spun against the mattress. Her feet were planted into the floor. She dragged a cold hand over her face and stretched into her arms. She was awake now, but the question was why. For as tired as she suddenly felt, Elsa considered that waking could not have happened unprompted.

Her eyes raised slowly. Elsa listened to the world outside her hut. She expected wind in the least, but remembered Gale had gone away. She was on her own out here, and only Nokk remained.

That thought filled her with a tinge of fear.

The earth and its waterways were silent. Everything around her was incredibly still. There was no sign of threat, nor spiritual disturbance, just as it had been before she fell asleep.

Elsa was alone.

Or was she?

A fire popped and crackled beyond the walls of her tent. At the sound, Elsa's eyes drove wide, and she leapt up quickly from her bed. She hurried for the exit, feet unsteady over the ground.

Elsa threw back the tarp and ran out into the dark night.

Relief coursed through her instantly, but then she was met with anger; pure unbridled rage. It barreled deep in her chest as it rose to the surface.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

The words burst from her throat. She stomped across the clearing. Sitting at the fire pit, with her face awash in an orange glow, was Honeymaren. She didn't look up as Elsa approached. She knew it would not take long for Elsa to sense her arrival, and so she expected anger; even as quickly as it came.

"Have you eaten anything?" Honeymaren asked her calmly.

Elsa blinked. Her fists drew tight. "What? Have you lost your mind? What are you doing here?"

Drawing in a sharp breath, Honeymaren released the contents of her canvas sack into the pot above the fire. "I'm assuming you haven't... Afterall, you are terrible at taking care of yourself unless forced to."

Infuriated by her nonchalant demeanor, Elsa placed herself between Honeymaren and the flames. Her hands were wide on her hips, but Honeymaren looked right through her.

Elsa snatched the spoon from her hand. "I'll ask you again, what the hell are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Her eyes pulled up to Elsa's. "I'm making lentils."

Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose. Her arms folded over her chest. "You know what I mean! What are you doing here instead of at the North Mountain?"

Standing, Honeymaren stole back her spoon. Her expression layered between spirited and mad. "Did you really expect me to go there without you? I never even made it to the trails before I circled back this way."

Groaning, Elsa fell to the log where Honeymaren had sat. "Mare… No! This is not what I needed from you! Do you not understand what's coming?"

"It's because of what's coming that I decided to come back."

"No! That is foolish. Don't you get it? What if I can't protect you, Honeymaren? What if Nokk floods the village? What if he throws waves that take down the trees? I can't defend Northuldra like I would without you here! What were you even thinking?" Elsa's breathing came in short gasps. Her hands tugged through her hair, threatening to snap each strand from its root.

"Hey, woah! Relax, would you? I can swim. I'm a fighter, you know!" She sat beside Elsa with a hand to her knee.

Too tired to remove it, Elsa glared instead. "This isn't about knowing how to swim, Honeymaren! This is about having no where to swim to, and having no way of protecting yourself against the Nokk!"

Her hand defiantly pulled away, and Honeymaren leaned forward to stir the pot. "Well, I'm here now, and by my own rights, so you might as well get over it. Besides, I am not looking for you to save me from drowning. I am here trying to protect you, in case anything goes wrong!"

"How?" Elsa fought back. "How do you expect to do that? You don't have powers! You are defenseless against the spirits. Not even twenty-four hours ago you were more frightened than I had ever seen you before, and all because you nearly drowned in the river! Do you not understand that is an actual reality for you if you stay?"

If the question scared Honeymaren, she didn't show it. Her expression held stern and her gaze on Elsa never faltered.

"I don't need powers to protect you. Don't you understand that?" Her brow arched coyly as she sat back on her hands. "The way that I feel about you, the lengths I would go to keep you safe; that makes me more powerful than your magic could ever be."

Sighing, Elsa shook her head. "I wish that were true. I do, but I'm afraid that caring for me is not going to help you here!"

Finally drawing her eyes back to the flames, Honeymaren pursed her lips. "It doesn't matter. I'm here now. You'd save yourself a world of energy if you'd just shut up about it, okay?"

Honeymaren never failed to surprise Elsa with her actions, and with her words. Unlike those she was raised beside in Arendelle, Honeymaren wasn't afraid of her. She took little care in how she spoke to Elsa, never worrying she might push her into reacting dangerously. She trusted her, and though that sentiment was sweet; Elsa wished that it could be enough to calm her in that moment.

But it wasn't. Elsa was too upset to feel the warmth of Honeymaren's trust, and she was too angry that she might be forced to see their friendship come to an end; if only things didn't pan out well for them, that was.

"So, lentils?" Honeymaren didn't wait for her to respond. She handed Elsa the spoon and positioned the pot between them.

Elsa stared at her for a long moment, not moving an inch. Finally, she sighed. Elsa leaned forward over her knees and took a small bite. She returned the spoon to Honeymaren, who decidedly did the same.

"Does Yelena know you've returned to the forest?"

Honeymaren refilled the spoon and held it teasingly against Elsa's lips. "By this point... I am certain she does."

The lentils waggled before her mouth. Elsa rolled her eyes and stubbornly accepted the bite.

"You are insufferable." She told Honeymaren.

Honeymaren shrugged. "No more than you are for refusing to leave with us."

Elsa frowned, shaking her head. "You know, I will never forgive myself if something happens to you."

"Good," Honeymaren nodded. She placed the pot at her feet and touched a finger to Elsa's chin. "-now you can fully understand why I had to come back here, then."

A slow smile worked its way across Elsa's cheeks. She didn't pull away from her touch. Elsa's eyes began to brighten and she simply stared. The way Honeymaren was looking at her caused Elsa's heart to flutter.

Her lips parted to respond as a powerful crack came barreling out from the forest.

Bright flashes, like lightning, spiralled around them. Thunder clapped loudly as smoke traveled in; billowing thick and dark amongst the evening air. Honeymaren and Elsa were overtaken by the haze. In unison, they leapt to their feet- Elsa's palms awashed in magic, and Honeymaren with her staff extended in her reach.

The smoke continued to grow, stealing their sight.

"How sweet this is…"

A low voice sang into the clearing. Elsa's head whipped over her shoulder, trying to decipher from where it had come.

"This reunion has been a long time coming." The mysterious words continued. "How lovely it is to be seeing you again, Elsa of Ahtohallan."

At the end of her first full day without Kristoff at her side, Anna laid awake in bed. With the window open, she listened to the waves lap against the shore. Crickets hummed songs at the base of the mountains, and the lone grey owl sat perched above the fjord.

Anna rotated against the sheets, relaxing in the sounds that were carried in by the night air. She considered how peaceful this evening would be if she were her child and snuggled up in bed; calm, without a care in the world.

At the thought, Anna placed a tentative hand over her abdomen. She hadn't the luxury of time to think about the life growing inside of her.

The funny thing was, a short day ago, Anna was completely perplexed by what was happening to her. Whether stress or sickness, she didn't have a clue.

Now, however, since Doctor Laugen explained to her that she might be with child; Anna knew it to be true. It was as if she could feel that life, heart beating, and sharing space within her. With eyes closed, she could make out the future beginning beneath her navel.

It was strange to have this happening to her now. Yet, what was stranger was feeling the state of bliss that had come with it; all while being overrun with concerns. For Arendelle, for her sister, and for Kristoff, too- the list went on and on. Wanting to relish in the excitement of parenthood had fueled Anna's motivation to solve the mystery. She would find out who poisoned her people, and she would punish them without caring why they had done it. Anna had never been so determined to make things right. The sheer weight of that desire had her losing sleep and making plans for her morning.

With Kai's assistance, Anna planned to face the royal guard. She would send scouts across the North Sea, and run inspections with any ship who sailed through, or near, Arendelle's waters.

Anna no longer felt fear in facing their culprit. No, now she was driven by the sheer force of rage; to hunt down whoever had taken the lives of the children, and she vowed to make them pay.

As the smoke cleared from view, and the night sky surrounded the camp in darkness, Elsa spun on her feet.

Honeymaren shuffled beside her. Her brown eyes pulled in a slow circle, and her hand tightened on her staff.

Out from the shadows, a figure stepped forward. Elsa adjusted her hands, and a second figure appeared. At the same time, Honeymaren's back tucked into hers. Across from Elsa, Honeymaren faced her own dilema. One figure appeared, and then another. She fought to turn her staff wide, bordering herself between the figures and her dearest friend.

They were surrounded by long dark cloaks. Their faces shielded under thick fabric, and while Honeymaren could not see through them; she had the fearful thought that they could easily see her.

Once their numbers reached eleven, the cloaks ceased to appear. They held their stance, creating a circle around both women. They didn't move, and they barely appeared to breathe.

When a final cloak stepped from the darkness, air caught painfully in Elsa's throat. The blood red silk and black mask caused Elsa's back to stiffen. Honeymaren felt the tension vibrate through her own spine. She turned beside Elsa, startled to find the red cloak moving toward her.

White gloves raised to them in warning. The fabric began to glow. Power surged beneath them, not at all dissimilar to Elsa's own.

Thinking quickly, Elsa's magic burst to life within her palms. The cloaks didn't move, nor did they appear to respond in any way. The red cloak, however, continued to come closer. Their fingers waggled, and their power only grew. Hands directed at Honeymaren, then. The red cloak turned from Elsa entirely as they came to face their target.

Drawing inside herself, Elsa conjured up a blast of Nordic winds. She aimed, firing at the red cloak. Her power barreled through the distance, nearing their oddly calm foe.

But then, something unexpected happened. Elsa magic slowed. Just before impact, her powers suspended mid air, but only briefly. The red cloak braced their hands together and forced Elsa's magic away from their chest.

The blast was sent reeling back at where it derived.

Panicked, Elsa winced. Her eyes drew closed. She heard the impact of her powers connect with something solid. Yet, that something solid was not her as it was intended. A different weight, a softer weight, had fallen against her.

Elsa's eyes reopened wide. She had Honeymaren holding herself up by Elsa's shoulder. Her other hand wrapped alarmingly over her own chest. Right before Elsa's magic was cast back at her, Honeymaren had slid in between them. She'd taken the full force of Elsa's ice powers… straight into the heart.

Cheers,

-M.

#where magic flows #elsamaren #frozen 2 #frozen #elsa #honeymaren #elsa x honeymaren #frozen 2 fanfiction #frozen fanfiction #elsamaren fic #my writing

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zombiesbecrazy · 5 years

Text

unstoppable bullet, unstoppable loop

Summary: The thing that the stories never told anyone was how every night Booster woke up from his nightmares, screaming until his throat was hoarse.

AO3

The thing that the stories never told anyone was how every night Booster woke up from his nightmares, screaming until his throat was hoarse.

He had a coping system though. He'd sit up, drink a big glass of water he always had beside his bed, change out his sweat soaked t-shirt and then shuffle into the living room and lie down on the couch, eventually fall into a light doze until his coffee maker woke him up in the morning with the smell of coffee that he didn't even drink because he only liked the smell and not the taste. It was a pretty terrible system. He knew it wasn't the best way of handling his problems, because he wasn't really handling them at all, but it was good enough for now.

The nightmares cycled, sometimes nonsense but more often than not it was reliving something that he had done, or hadn’t done with embarrassingly bad results. The one that was most common was one of his own creation. The one event that he had experienced again and again when Rip was trying to teach him that some things were unchangeable; fixed points in time that would always happen no matter what he tried to do to change things. Night after night Booster found himself being beaten to death by the Joker in an attempt to stop him from shooting Barbara Gordon. They said that the definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. Booster didn't know about that, but what he did know that is was slowly driving him crazy now, either due to guilt or sleep deprivation and he didn't know which was worse.

Didn’t really matter. Crazy was crazy.

When he first heard about the Joker, reading about him in the Justice League museum as a kid, he thought he was silly. A dumb guy in a lame costume who shouldn't have been any threat to a hero as legendary as Batman. He had no powers or crazy gadgets at his disposal so there had to be more to the story for him to keep winning.

And then stole some tech, travelled back in time and, amongst other things, learned the hard way that the Joker was just a sadistic bastard who thrived on chaos and destruction, fueled by the sound of his own maniacal laughter.

He was beaten up. Electrocuted. Shot. Drowned. More than fifty times, seventy times, a hundred times he had gone back, trying to stop the mad man before her shot Barbara Gordon - Batgirl, Oracle - through the spine and he just kept getting killed over and over for his efforts, Skeets and Rip pulling him out just in time before he insisted on throwing himself back in time and trying again. And again. And again.

Fixed point. Always. Destiny.

He hated all of those words. they were so static and frustrating. He could travel through time. He should be able to make a difference instead of just failing over and over.

"Michael?" A deep voice startled him awake. "Is everything alright?"

Booster looked around groggily, trying to remember what he had been doing. Lights. Windows. Space. Oh, fantastic. He had fallen asleep in a Justice League meeting because of course a screw up like him out do that. Everyone else had left and he was alone at the table with Batman, lights in the room dimmed to a light blue ambient settling. "Yeah. No." A loud yawn escaped his mouth as he sat up and stretched. "I'm just tired. I'm not sleeping. I'm alright."

The biggest problem that he had was that the nightmares weren’t just dreams that spiralled out of control into the fantastical and weird. Instead, his were all real, vivid and accurate memories of what he had done, showcasing all the ways that he had failed to save the day, not exaggerated in the least. If anything he remembered more the more he experienced them.

The first time he tried, the first time Rip sent him back, he was too late. Caught up in the Joker’s trap at the fairgrounds, he had burst into the Gordon's living room just seconds after the gun was fired, Barbara lying on the ground, Joker and his goons standing above her, laughing and joking and just watching as the bled helplessly on the ground. Booster lost it, flying at the Joker and attacked, fists flying. He was too late to stop her from getting hurt, but he could take out the Joker now, stopping so many other future events. The Robin from being killed. The countless numbers of people killed or worse by his sick games. He couldn’t save Batgirl, but he could stop this sicko now and for good.

And then Joker beat him to the brink of consciousness with Skeets and pulled out a gun.

Booster woke up in the bed, gasping with pained breathes, Rip looking down at him, worried expression on his face as he examined at Booster’s beaten body.

“Send me back. Now, dammit!” Booster had demanded it. He could do better. He could save her in a second attempt.

He didn’t. He may have actually done worse.

Adrenaline pumping, he returned a second time but again he was too slow, held up fighting some of Joker's men outside the building, and Barbara was shot just outside the door and then Joker electrocuted him in the face.

He woke up with Rip again, blood dripping from his mouth and a trembling feeling running through her skin, gritted his teeth and got back to his feet. “Back… back again.”

Smash, through a wall in the House of Mirrors this time, shattering shards of glasses impaling his body as he fell, one stabbing through his liver, causing him to break out. That time he had been taken out before Joker ever left the fairgrounds, no way of stopping him that time. He didn’t even get close.

“Again.”

Shot through the chest. Hung from the rafters. Shot out of a cannon.

“A… again.”

Rip told him it was a training lesson, that things couldn't be changed. That in every scenario, in every outcome and in every universe, Barbara Gordon gets shot by the Joker and becomes paralyzed. Some things could not be changed. There were rules and order to the universe. But if there was one thing the Booster Gold paid no attention to, it was rules that someone told him couldn't be broken. If he did, he wouldn't be Booster Gold in the first place.

So he ignored Rip and kept going back. Sometimes he got closer. Sometimes he almost won. There was one instance where his fingers brushed her just enough to push her out of the bullets path, but that only made things worse and she didn’t get paralyzed and instead she died.

The world spun out of control after that attempt and he just made it back in time to try again because he was eaten by a dragon.

Butterfly effect was a bitch.

He had only gone back one more time after that one, and he hadn’t been able to stop anything. He never was able to stop anything, not when it mattered.

"Batman? Can I ask a favour?" Batman said nothing but turned to face him and Booster faltered a bit under the scrutiny and looked away. Batman had said that he could come and talk to him about things, that he was there for him, that he was willing to be his friend, but they hadn’t talked about it since. "Can I talk to Oracle?" He stared at the table in front of him, not able to will himself to look up and face the man.

"Is that a good idea?"

"Probably not,” Booster conceded, finally looking up to face Batman, who was sitting back in his chair with unblinking eyes, giving nothing away in his expression. He sighed and rested his head on his hands, trying to hold himself together and put his thoughts into some sort of logical order. "I think I need to though. My nightmares, I keep failing to save her. I'm hoping that if I know she's alright the dreams will stop." He doubted that they would. He knew that she was alive and was thriving as Oracle. She was touted as one of the great heroes of the age even though hardly anyone knew anything about her in the official records of time. It took a special amount of security to even know the whispered truth about who Oracle was and the power that she had wielded. Maybe seeing her would be the difference though, casting aside of the haunted memory that he had of her dying in front of him, with him unable to stop it no matter how many attempts he made. "Did you tell her?"

"It's not my story to tell," said Batman in a matter of fact tone, which was very similar to the rest of his tones as far as Booster could tell. “I’ll see if I can arrange something. I’ll be in touch.”

A week later Booster found himself in the Batman’s secret lair,, standing at the foot of the giant penny with a fleet of batmobiles nearby, and despite his nervousness he was having a hard time resisting the urge to spin around in circles, arms wide as if he were in a musical. “I love the Bat Cave!” he called out, laughing as he heard his voice echo through the emptiness, bouncing off the walls. “It’s just so cool in here.”

“You aren’t wrong. It is pretty cool down here.” The voice came from out of nowhere and made him yelp in surprise, spinning around to find a very familiar looking red haired woman. Barbara Gordon. Batgirl. Oracle. It was a face that haunted his dreams every night, but it looked different. She was a little older, but everything else was different too. Hair was shorter and a little darker red, glasses frames were different, her biceps were in incredible shape, but the thing that stood out was that she was in a wheelchair. He had done that. He hadn’t stopped that. Countless times that he had tried and he had been unable to stop that one thing. She grinned at him, genuine and bright, unaware of his internal battles. "The infamous Booster Gold. We meet at last." She held out her hand and he stared at it for a moment, embarrassed that he was caught in his moment of fanboyishness in the cave, before his brain kick started again and he grabbed her hand to shake it way too enthusiastically, covering up his nerves of terror with nerves of nervousness.

He had no idea what was going to happen here.

"Hi Babs." His eyes widened, realising that he didn’t know this woman. Not personally, not in the way that she knew. Not in a way that he can call her by a nickname on first meeting. "Sorry. Barbara,” he stammered until he thought about it more. He hadn’t asked to meet with Barbara. Was he supposed to know her name? She called him Booster and not Michael. Were they supposed to use their codenames? "I mean Oracle." That felt weird. She wasn’t in a costume. Did she have a costume? She was just a lady in a cave. One of the smartest people alive maybe, but just a human. “Ma’am.” He turned beet red and his own stupidity. Why was he not able to function like a regular human and know how to have a conversation. He wasn’t usually this bad at it, or if he was, he wasn’t aware of it. "This was stupid. I'm just going to go."

"Stop. Stay. Explain." she said calmly, eyeing him with scrutiny, like she was trying to figure him out like a puzzle. It reminded him of Batman. And Nightwing. And the rest of the Bats. Did they practice that look in Bat school? Could he learn that look?

He noticed that he was still shaking her hand and it was way past the point of awkward. He dropped it abruptly, and then struggled to figure out what do to with his hands before settling on running one through his hand and giving her his patented Booster Gold smile. "Explain what?" Yeah. Nailed it.

She settled back in her chair, resting her elbows on the armrests and tented her fingers together as she considered him. "You are from the future with the ability to time travel. You already knew my identity and Batman arranged for this meet up at your request, in the Bat Cave, instead of just having me contact you remotely like I would typically do in this scenario." He nodded, because what else could he do? Everything she said was true. "Whatever you wanted, it's clearly important."

He had tried to think about what he would say to her. How he would try and explain what he had tried to do, the lesson that Rip was trying to teach him, and everything that had happened, but in the moment, he just couldn’t do it. He froze again. She didn’t need to relive it and know all the messy details. He wasn’t sure if anything could help his problem and now that he was here he wondered if this would just be bad for her to know.

"I'm sorry," he finally blurted out, unable to think of any other way to try and explain why they were there. "I’m sorry that I couldn't save you."

Barbara stared at him, trying to sort out what they were talking about. They had never met from her perspective. "What are you talking about?"

He couldn’t hold back now that he had jumped in. He curled his hands into tight balls, trying to keep them from shaking out of some unnameable emotion. "I was there the night you were shot. Over and over again. I went back almost a hundred times. Maybe even more. I lost count. I couldn't stop it." Now that he was started, he was having a hard time rambling. He sat down next to the penny and rested his head against it with his eyes closed. He was just so tired, not only about this, but about everything. He missed Ted. He missed Michelle. He missed Rip. He even missed his old crappy life in the future before all this because at least then things were simple and easy. "I'm so sorry I couldn't stop him. I'm sorry you're in that chair. I'm sorry I took your legs." He curled up against the penny and let out a deep breath that he hadn’t known that he was holding, shuddering as it left his body, and tears running down his cheeks. It felt so good to say the words to say them to the one person that he needed to the most. No matter what happened next, he just felt so relieved. That he had told her. That it was finally off his chest.

He was going to sleep for a week. She could punch and scream and hate him and it would still be better than bottling it up inside for all of eternity. He probably shouldn’t have told her. He probably was breaking all the rules of time travel that he never seemed to know about until after he had broken them, but it was out there now and he couldn’t take it back.

He didn’t know how long he sat there until he realized that Barbara hadn’t responded. When he opened his eyes, she was still there, looking at him with an odd expression. "Batman knew about this?" she finally asked, voice flat and low, like she was angry but trying to pretend that she wasn't. Yeah, he had expected some anger.

"Yes?" he said slowly, wondering once again if it was a mistake to make this connection. “He knows that I was there and that I tried to stop it, but that’s it. He doesn't know any details."

"And I'm guessing he didn't prep you about what to say to me?"

"No? Why would he?"

Barbara lips tightened and shook her head at him, red hair falling over her shoulders. "Because he definitely would have told you to never say any of the things that you just said to me." Booster’s stomach plummeted. He did suffer from foot in mouth disease, even when he was desperately trying to say the right thing. Perhaps even more so then. “Never in my life have I wanted someone to swoop in and save me. I made myself into a hero then, and I’m the same way now. I’m not broken, Booster, and I hate it when people think of me that way. Yes, I can’t walk, but everyone has their own challenges, and that is all it is to me. I can still fight. I can still work. I can still help people. I regret nothing that led me to this point." Barbara stopped and took in his expression and something that she saw made her soften a bit in her features. “I don’t know what happened or whatever you think you did or didn’t do, but I do know one thing. You didn’t take my legs. The only person that we can blame for that is the Joker, because he is the one who pulled the trigger. You did nothing to cause this.”

Booster nodded at her words. He understood what she was trying to say. She had come to terms with what had happened. This new information didn't change anything for her, but she recognized that it meant a lot to him. “Thank you. I just needed to let you know that I tried. I tried so hard. No matter what I did, I just couldn’t change anything. Not to make it any better anyway.” In that moment though, sitting on the floor in the dark Bat Cave, something occurred to him. He didn't know if it was important but on that last try, he had done something. The only thing he had thought of in the moment that he hadn’t tried before in any of his other attempts. "I called 911," he whispered. "The last time. I had finally given up on trying to stop him. I was out of ideas, but I called 911."

There was a hand on his shoulder, light and warm, rubbing gently back and forth. "Then you did save me. Maybe not in the way you wanted, but I'm alive." Booster looked up at Barbara and there was something there now. Something soft and kind and it pushed a little bit of hope into his gut. “Only one call went in reporting the gun shot. If no one had called for an ambulance, I would have died on the floor all alone.” Her words sank in. He had called 911. He had called for help. The loop was closed, so that meant that he had always been there, not just randomly interloping through time, learning a painful lesson about set things and fate. He was always meant to be there. He was always meant to fail again and again in order to reach that last point. He had been able to make a difference. Barbara had kept talking, and he turned his focus back. “The Joker may have shot me, but without Booster Gold, Oracle would have never have had the chance to be born. I like who I am, who I got the chance to become. I’m glad you were there.”

Without thinking he rushed up to his knees, leaning way too close and invading her personal space but he couldn't stop himself from curling his arms tight around her and he choked out something that was between a sob and a laugh when felt her return the embrace. It was warm and caring in the cold dark cave and it was more than he had imagined, relief flooding his body, shaking with the effort.

The nightmares didn’t stop.

Of course they didn’t. He still was regularly beaten by the Joker. He still watched Barbara Gordon get shot. He still failed time and time again to stop the unstoppable bullet.

The only difference was that he could drink his water, change his shirt, and then scroll through his phone and look at the now saved contact name. He didn’t need to text or call it. Seeing that it was there, knowing that he could contact if he needed to and she would pick up, it was enough to try again.

#whumptober2019 #no.13 #booster gold #barbara gordon #bruce wayne #gunshot #time travel shenanigans

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im-fairly-whitty · 6 years

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Whatever It Takes: Coco Villain!au

[Part 1: Trapped] [Part 2: Broken] [Part 3: Determined] [Part 4: Suspicion]

[Part 5: Decision] [Part 6: Bad History] [Part 7: Breaking Point]

[Part 8: Locked Door] [Part 9: Resolution] [Part 10: The Key] [Part 11: The Edge]

Part 12: The End

“Ruy. Get. Miguel. Away.” Enrique said through gritted teeth looking like he was one the brink of passing out, but jolting as Victoria swayed him back another step, towards the drop behind them both.

“No more talking, kidnapper.” Victoria hissed, putting a hand over his mouth.

“No one is going anywhere.” Héctor said sternly, putting an arm around Miguel protectively.

The boy was clinging to him, clearly terrified at the overwhelming disaster spiraling around them. Héctor had to fix this, he had to fix all of this. He had to keep everyone safe.

“Victoria, if you go over that cliff it’s going to be very very bad.” Héctor said, speaking loudly and clearly, trying to keep from making any sudden movements.

He hadn’t seen Victoria this keyed up since the day she’d first arrived in the Land of the Dead, broken and raving and lashing out at anyone who got too close. Anyone besides him.

“You are going to be very very hurt if you fall that far,” Héctor said, “we may not be able to put you back together Victoria, do you understand that? I want you to be safe, I want you to come home.”

“You’re going to lock me up.” she hissed, dropping her voice so the police officers behind him wouldn’t be able to hear, “You’re going to let them take me away to some mad house and I’m going to tell them everything, I’m going to tell them about all the people you killed, about the people we killed. I’m going to take you down with me you-”

“What do you want Victoria? Tell me what you need, I want to help you.” Héctor said, repressing the shiver running through him at her threat, even if it was a fangless one. He and Imelda had obtained doctored medical papers for both Miguel and Victoria without them knowing it just in case something like this happened someday.

Of course they’d never imagined it being quite this bad of course, but having a way to gag their grandchildren had been a must with how much they both knew. The gags would still work, they had to work. But if Victoria went over the edge with Enrique and damaged them both beyond repair, then Miguel, and the family name, would never recover.

“I’m not going to be locked up.” Victoria said, tightening her grip on Enrique, who looked more like death than any dead man Héctor had ever seen. “I’m not going to let them take me, I’m going to jump before you let them take me.”

“We’re not going to lock you up.” Héctor said, keeping steady eye contact with her as he loosened his tie to hang limply around his neck.

“But you said-”

“Victoria, I swear I’m not going to let them touch you.” Héctor said, keeping his voice down, gently detaching Miguel from him and taking another step forward. “You matter more to me than life Victoria, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. Now tell me, what do you need?”

“I, I want you to punish the kidnapper.” Victoria said, still wild-eyed as Héctor carefully took another step forward. Then another step. “You can’t just put him in jail, it needs to be real, he has to feel it.”

“Alright.” Héctor said, “You want to push him over the cliff?”

“I...” Victoria looked over his shoulder. Back at the police and Imelda, “No. You have to do it. You have to show them you agree with me.”

He’d caught her off-guard and now she wasn’t sure what to think about him. In this state it was easy to see that she was living by the rules of her own invented reality, and now suddenly he was playing by her rules again. Miguel might never recover if Enrique went over the edge, but Héctor would never forgive himself if he lost his favorite granddaughter. In this moment, Victoria took priority.

“Victoria, mija,” Héctor said quietly, too quietly now for even Miguel or Rodrigo to hear, only a few steps away from Victoria, “If I go to jail then how can I protect you? All these police can’t see me push the kidnapper over the edge like that, think smarter mija.”

“Make it look like an accident.” Victoria said, her eyes bright as she rose to his challenge, seeing that he was on her side, “Then I’ll know you mean it. Everything can be right again.”

“Si, everything will be right.” Héctor said, taking the final step towards her and grabbing Enrique.

Enrique cried out in terror as Héctor heaved him as hard as he could.

Away from the cliff edge, sending Enrique skidding across safe ground, toward the others and away from danger.

Héctor turned back as Victoria’s eyes widened. She turned and jumped, right as Héctor grabbed her around her ribcage, leaping back, pulling them both away from the cliff.

Victoria screamed and hit as he held her tightly, rolling on top of her and pinning her to the ground.

“Lo siento mija, I’m so sorry.” Héctor said quietly, yanking off his loose necktie. He worked quickly to wrap it around her mouth, gagging her shrieks before pulling her up into a tight embrace from behind to pinned her arms

Victoria jerked and struggled as the police officers all rushed forward, tears rolling down her face.

“I have to keep you safe Victoria, this is the only way I can can keep you all safe.” Héctor told her quietly, “I love you, but you forced my hand. Don’t go screaming about what we’ve done or it will be worse for you, Mamá Imelda has papers that will make them think you’re crazy. Keep quiet and I’ll come for you as soon as I can. Promise me you’ll be quiet, mija.”

She tried to rock her head back to slam her skull against his, but he dodged it, pinning her tighter as her shrieks turned into muffled anguished sobs. A crying scream that continued as officers pried her from Héctor’s grip. Her hair had come undone, the uneven curls framing her tear-streaked face as she struggled helplessly against the gag.

“The primary suspect is in custody.” one of the officers barked into a walkie-talkie, two others quickly binding Victoria.

“Don’t hurt her.” Héctor said, shaking slightly as he stood, “She’s my granddaughter, por favor.”

“We’ll be as gentle as we can Señor.” the officer said, putting a hand on his shoulder as the others tried to force Victoria to stand, “We’re sorry you had to experience something this traumatic. We couldn’t have done it without your help.”

“He’s lying!” a hoarse voice said.

They turned to see two other officers helping Enrique to his feet, deftly swapping Victoria’s haphazard bindings for official police ones.

“He’s lying about everything,” Enrique said, his voice weak and his sentence broken by coughs, “he killed my son, he’s lying to you all!”

“Señor, you’re under arrested for suspected kidnapping.” said Officer Francés, the police chief stepping up to face Enrique, “You have the right to remain silent, you will be assigned an attorney to represent you in court. We’ll be taking you into the station for full questioning, but you should know that your son is mentally unstable, that he experiences episodes of paranoia.”

“You monster.” Enrique started, looking right at Héctor, “You lying...murdering...” his voice trailed off as he lost consciousness, sinking back against one of the officers helping to hold him up.

Héctor took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Enrique would likely be unconscious for at least a day after this much excitement so freshly dead, giving Imelda and him time to get the police firmly on their side concerning Miguel’s fake illness. If push came to shove they might even be able to get Enrique labeled as mentally unstable if he didn’t let it drop.

Héctor made himself look to see Victoria being dragged away. His heart ached to see her glaring back at him through her tears, but Imelda would never forgive him if he tried to free her now.

Héctor turned away, absently tugging at his rumpled collar. He hadn’t really betrayed Victoria. She would think so for a long time, but eventually she would understand she’d given him no choice. Once Imelda cooled off he could even start pulling strings to get Victoria out again so he could have her back.

Everything would be alright.

He looked over to where Miguel was standing stock still, watching his old father being carried away unconscious by the police as other officers moved to restrain Rodrigo’s alebrije. A medic knelt beside Rodrigo to get a closer look at his ribs.

“Hey, hey, Miguel.” Héctor said, pulling him into a hug, turning Miguel’s head to look away from the damage Enrique had done, “Let’s get you home alright? This has been for too much excitement for everyone, everything’s alright now. Everyone’s safe.”

***

Miguel had experienced all kinds of fear.

There was the kind of fear that froze him up, that made his mind empty and his bones lock up. There was the kind of fear that was all hot and messy inside his head when his thoughts got too loud that made him cry and want to curl up into a hug. There was the kind of fear that ate away the happiness inside of him over years and years, making him feel on guard and worn out, willing to let someone else make the decisions for him.

What he was feeling right now was none of those things.

What he was feeling wasn’t fear.

It was anger.

He was still clinging to Papá Héctor’s jacket, his face now turned away from watching his Papá be drug away by police, but he wasn't feeling the calm safety that he’d always been able to feel before. Papá Héctor had always protected him, had always made sure nothing would hurt him, had always been the one to tell him that everything was okay.

But it was a lie.

Miguel’s skeletal fingers dug tightly into the fabric of Papá Héctor’s jacket as the hot feeling inside of him continued to build, eating away at the cold walls he’d built so carefully over the years.

Because that really was the truth wasn't it? Papá Héctor had said that Tio Ruy was terrible, but he’d been so nice and tried so hard to help him get away. Papá Héctor had said that Miguel would be in danger if he ever left the house, but all the bad things that happened to Miguel were only because he was trying to stop him. Papá Héctor had said that Miguel needed to die because it would protect his family, that it was his fault for finding out family secrets.

But it wasn’t.

“This...is...your...fault.” Miguel said, looking up at Pa-

Looking up at Héctor.

“This is your fault.” Miguel said louder, letting go of Héctor’s jacket and stepping back from him as the hot feeling ate up his bones, “This is your fault!”

“Miguel, you’re tired, we need to get you home.” Héctor said, looking taken aback as he tried to take Miguel’s hand.

But Miguel yanked his hand away.

“No!” he yelled, the volume feeling raw in his throat, “Don’t touch me! You’re not my papá! This is all your fault!”

Héctor looked like he’d been slapped, blinking in shock as he took a step back.

“Miguel, this isn’t the time, you’re tired and under stress.” Héctor said sternly, the warmth draining away as he made another grab for him.

Miguel jumped away, using the nearest police officer as a shield as Héctor advanced.

“You killed me!” Miguel screamed, glaring Héctor right in the eye, the heat inside of him pushing the words out in a nearly incoherent rush, “You killed me you killed De la Cruz you killed Tia Victoria’s murderer and you’re ruining everything.”

“He’s uh, he’s having one of his episodes,” Héctor said, half smiling apologetically at the police officer as he ducked around her and grabbed Miguel. But now Miguel could see fear in his eyes. “Lo siento Officer Francés, I’ll take him home immediately.”

“Liar!” Miguel shrieked, lashing out, hitting Héctor as hard as he could with his fists to try and break his grip, “You locked the door until I died! Don’t-he’s lying!”

Héctor’s grip locked onto his arms as he kicked and screamed, running out of words but fighting as hard as he could. He was not going back, he didn’t want to be numb and scared and cold again, he wanted his real papá back, he wanted Tio Rodrigo and Caprice and his Mamá. Not Héctor.

But Héctor’s grip was tighter than Miguel had ever felt. At least not since the day he’d been murdered.

***

“Miguel, stop this.” Señor Rivera said harshly, wrestling with his grandson as the boy tried almost manically to break his grip, flailing hard enough to dislocate his own arm, forcing Señor Rivera to grab him around the ribcage.

Officer Francés watched with alert wariness as several alarms tripped in her head at the same time.

“What was that about Victoria’s murderer?” she asked, her old case files flipping back open in her mind’s eye.

“He’s raving, nothing he says is true.” Señor Rivera said sharply, “I already told you.”

“Cement!” Miguel cried, tears running down his face as he continued to struggle uselessly, “The day after he died, cement, Tia Victoria told me that-”

Señor Rivera’s hand clamped over Miguel’s mouth, “We’re going home now.” he said, hoisting the struggling boy up under his arm, “Officer, if you’ll excuse us, my grandson is very ill.”

The alarms in Officer Francés’ head got much louder. There was no way that Miguel would know the exact timeframe of the suspect’s disappearance. It was a small detail, but a too-accurate one for a raving sick person to randomly land on. And De la Cruz, that was the name of the man who’d disappeared the night Miguel died, a known enemy of the family.

“I can help with any paperwork that may need to be filled out?” Señora Rivera said, appearing to step between them, “My husband needs to get Miguel home so they can both rest.”

“Actually,” Officer Francés said, firmly sidestepping to block Señor Rivera’s retreat, “I’d like to ask Miguel a few questions if you don’t mind.”

“Miguel is mentally unsound, a minor under our care, and will not be taking your questions.” Señora Rivera said, her icy glare doing nothing to dissuade the sick feeling twisting in Officer Francés’s non-existent stomach. There was none of the pitifulness she’d had when they’d met earlier, only a steely resolve dripping with warning.

And it suddenly seemed awfully convenient that the Riveras had what was essentially a gag order on the two people who had tried to slander them tonight.

“He said something about a ‘De la Cruz,’ who’s that?” Officer Francés asked, a false friendliness in her voice.

“He’s the man that caused Miguel’s death by delaying him being sent home.” Señora Rivera said icily.

“In that case, why would Miguel be trying to defend him I wonder?” Officer Francés said, matching the hard edge in her voice as Señor y Señora Rivera’s body language continued to drip with fear and panic.

She looked at Miguel, who was still trying his best to break free, watching her with pleading eyes, still trying to yell through the hand Señor Rivera’s had clamped over his mouth.

The ready made gag orders. Victoria’s swift mental decline. The murderer’s disappearance. The newly dead father’s desperate rescue attempt, the ostracized son’s intervention, Sebastian’s wild claims, the Rivera’s cagy defensiveness, and a dozen other things little things about this whole situation that just didn’t feel quite right when pulled together into one big pile that reeked of something truly disgusting.

Officer Francés drew her handgun, which was incapable of killing, but plenty capable of shattering bone beyond repair. She took a step back and coolly leveled it at Señora Rivera as both the Riveras scrambled back in wide-eyed shock.

“Release Miguel immediately,” Officer Francés commanded, “Héctor and Imelda Rivera, you are under arrest for suspected murder, suspected destruction of person, suspected forgery of medical documents, and lying to the police.”

“How dare you.” Señora Rivera hissed, her facade slipping to reveal something venomous and angry.

“Get away from her!” Señor Rivera snarled, dropping Miguel and lunging forward.

All the officers in the clearing ducked at the sound of the gunshot, then rushed forward, shouting as they tackled both the Riveras to the ground.

Five officers struggled to pin down Héctor Rivera, who was snarling and struggling like a wild animal to get as the officers tying up his wife. Apparently too far gone in rage to pay attention to the splintered half of his right hand that now missing, splintered away by the gunshot, fragments of bone scattered across the ground.

“And,” Officer Francés panted, getting to her feet and holstering her gun, keeping back as her officers pinned him to the ground, “resisting arrest, and attacking an officer.”

She turned to see Miguel crouched close to the ground, shaking slightly as he watched his grandfather’s arrest with wide eyes.

“Come on Miguel,” Officer Francés, gently helping the boy to his feet. She took his hand and led him away from the nightmare he’d been trapped in for the last twenty years, “Let’s get you back to your real papá.”

Epilogue:

Enrique and Miguel live at Ruy’s, living in the loft above his. Ruy is helping Miguel play the guitar again and Iria is there as well, helping take care of everyone that’s recovering with food she’s brought from her side. It’s been a month and everyone is receiving lots of therapy, Miguel has a lot of bad habits and quirks still, but for the most part he’s happy.

Ruy went to stay with Iria for a few weeks and came back unrecognizable. Still tired, but absolutely devoted to Iria, who Enrique approves of wholeheartedly. The apartment is clean, no alcohol to be found, and Seba is over a lot too. Enrique still misses Luisa terribly, but he and Miguel have been staying a lot with her side of the family, which has been lovely.

The Rivera family is a complicated mess. The press has been swarming and an uncomfortable number of victims coming forward with suspicious stories about their own deaths after getting caught up in Rivera related issues in life. A lawyer, reporters, a particularly vocal man from the projects with a particularly gruesome claim that involved Héctor, a break in, and an ax.

The family has polarized, a few like Mamá Coco quietly siding with Imelda, who has been left with an empty manor, others like Héctor Junior staunchly siding against Héctor and Imelda and doing their best to pick up the pieces and rebuild the family and the brand without them.

Héctor’s trial was a dismal one, involving a long line of witnesses bringing forward a hurricane of fragmented evidence. It's enough to condemn both of their reputations permanently, but since the court system only deals with crimes on this side of the veil, charges only stuck to Héctor, leaving Imelda alone when he is put in prison. Even after she broke down screaming in the courtroom, pushing her way to Héctor, who quietly told her to calm down, that he wasn't going to have her go to prison as well.

Héctor’s sentence is a century in prison, no chance of bail. Victoria has been locked up for good and finally receiving the professional treatment that she should have received years ago.

There’s still a huge amount of family money and everyone still receives a stipend, allowing them to live in comfort for the foreseeable future. Enrique doesn't know exactly what that future will be, he never realized you had to plan beyond death, but he finally at least has the opportunity to think about it now that things have calmed down. He’s still not sure if he’s going to try reconnecting with his side of the family, there’s too much drama there for now, and he’s really sure he’s never going to talk to Imelda or Héctor for at least a century, but between Luisa’s side and this peculiar gathered family here at Ruy’s he’s sure he’ll be fine. Ruy and Miguel both need a dad and he needs some rest.

It’ll be a mess to explain when Luisa finally arrives someday, but for now he’s looking forward to finally getting some well-earned rest.

____________________

Thank you all so so much for this crazy ride that has been villain au! This is the end of the main storyline and it’s been such a blast. There’s going to be one more Ruia chapter posted in the next few days, but other than that things are pretty much wrapped up!

I would love to hear what you all think, and as always my inbox is open for any questions you have. I’ll also be taking “in character” questions for the cast of villain au, meaning you can ask any question of any of the characters and they’ll respond!

Thanks so much for coming along with this ride, it’s been a blast. And thanks again to @slusheeduck who is my fantastic behind the scenes co-creator for this au.

And now to get back to teacher au. :)

- Wit

#whatever it takes #villain!au #coco #ruy #hector #imelda #miguel

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unbefuckinglieveable · 5 years

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Holific#1 - therealhmmlingle

// Hey guys holiday gift, for a loyal follower and friend. I had a lot to fit in into a five page limit. I hope it is okay! @therealhmmlingle

Pairing: prinxiety

Word count:3,274

Trope: Finding your partner on the brink of death.

Warnings: hypothermia, panic attacks, deprecating thoughts.

“Uh… Hey Roman? I am gonna have to show up late tonight. Something happened at work and they need me to come in.” Virgil sighed sadly, fidgeting in discomfort with the box in his pocket. Where it had been for a few months. He had only just paid it off enough to take it with him.

It had cost him the heat in his apartment, if it had not been for Philip, his and Roman's dog, he would have froze. It cost most the food he had in his apartment. He didn't care. After all, it was December, Christmas eve. In a few days, It would all be worth it. The late nights, early mornings,and busy weekends. It would finally all work out.

“Virgil!” Came his partner's sharp voice, snapping him out of his little trance.

“I'm here! Sorry princey.” The anxious adult said with a sigh. He hadn't realized he had spaced out.

“Virgil I can't do this anymore. Your never around! When you are you just sleep in my bed! We don't talk like we used to and now you can't even keep your promise to spend the holiday with me? Because of work? Don't bother coming tonight. I'll be by to pick up Philip tomorrow. What is the point in being in a relationship with someone who isn't there?”

“Roman wait!”

“Goodbye Virgil.”

“Ro, sto-” The phone went dead in Virgil's ear leaving the man in stunned silence. All this time, four years. Gone. Virgil felt numbed. This couldn't be happening. He got up and dressed. He did not work his ass off to let this entire thing fall apart. He gathered up Philip and the flowers he had purchased for Roman the night before.

He rushed to his car his mind flooding with fear. Fears that he tried to push at bay with the stereo of the car. Turning it up so loud he couldn't hear his thoughts. The anxious man tossed his phone on the seat so it wouldn't be uncomfortable in his pocket. Virgil peeled out of the parking lot from his apartment complex and onto the back roads of the area.

Roman's home was a bit far,but for a man as extravagant and popular as him, Virgil could understand him wanting his home to be a bit secluded, so he didn't have to have a public face on when he opened the door every day. That was enough to start spiraling, things as simple as how fast Roman could move on, how Virgil could be too little too late, and he could easily be fired from his job for calling off last minute. Virgil had sucked as a worker lately, he understood that.

Virgil sucked at everything, he couldn't even function as an adult. There was no food,no warmth(besides a small space heater), soon he wouldn't have a phone again and fuck if he knew when he would get it back if he got fired. He is a loser, and one that Roman Prince had already gotten rid of.

There was a skid on ice as he pulled to the side of the road threw the car in park. He climbed out of the car and shoved the door shut sinking to sit on the snow below his car window. Thoughts blurred together in a whirlwind, the rapid rise and fall of his chest fast. The beat of his heart against his ribs like a prisoner trying to escape. He realized how alone he was without Roman. It sent him reeling.

‘alonealonealone-notsafe-failure-fuckup-notsafenotsafe-broken-alone-I can't-Ican't- lose-losermistake-not-can’t-airairair-fuck-fault-can’t-my-alone-fail-nononono- Ro-’

Virgil's panic continued for a solid fifteen minutes even after he was through the worst of it he leaned against his car, counting out his breaths. It was another ten minutes after that he realized he should get back on the road.However Virgil was exhausted, and he didn't want to move even though his jeans were wet from the snow. Slowly he felt the exhaustion catching up to him. It wouldn't be safe for him to drive. He stood up and pulled at the handle of his car. Nothing. Again.

“ No! Fuck!” Virgil hissed, as he heard Prince Philip bark from inside He hit the side of his window in frustration looking at the pup safe inside. He went to each door rapidly tugging at he handles as his dog followed him to each and every spot, like he always does.Therefore breaking a window was not going to work. At least not without hurting Philip.

Virgil glanced around the road, and grimaced when he realized he had no clue where he was. In his panic he hadn't paid attention to the world about him. The anxious man swore in frustration and kicked his tires. He sat on his hood trying to think. There had to be some stupidly simple...who was he kidding? His phone was in the car he was locked out of nobody will look for him, he has no idea where he is and his love gave up on him.

Roman Prince was the master of being extra, the prince of drama. Sometimes it just happens it rolls over into his personal life. Such a rollover could lead to terrible decisions, like breaking up with a partner of four years because he got way too busy around the holiday season and slept whenever he came over. An impulse mistake. However he was an asshole and he committed.

Something Roman was well acquainted with.

Currently the actor paced around his lavish home hoping that Virgil would call him back. Even though he understood he didn't deserve it in the slightest. A tricky thing with pride, it wouldn't allow him to cave and admit such stupid mistakes. Even if they were irrational, and immature. In honesty, the actor had no idea why his partner had needed to take so many hours. Not when Roman had offered to pay his bills.

‘Just to get away from me, then.’ Roman thought to himself for the hundredth time that week. If Roman was being honest with himself, he knew Virgil was better off, Roman just wasn't enough for him. The actor was way to loud and affectionate and chaotic and well hyper. Virgil was just…beautiful. Roman loved all the things that made him so different.

However it seemed everything that the actor tried to do made the other anxious or bored him, or frustrated him. It wasn't fair to make Virgil that uncomfortable. Besides, Virgil was putting distance between them anyway. A mere coincidence that it came to a head at two p.m on Christmas eve.

Roman took a seat in his chair in the living room glancing at the tree in the far corner. He had looked forward another family holiday, before Virgil and Logan came along, it was just himself and Patton. Which was nice, but it wasn't the big family event he wanted. There were no debates, no Variety, just cards from fair weather friends, and Patton watching movies and baking in his kitchen.

Virgil shivered slightly still sitting on his hood an hour later in the deserted back roads of wherever the hell he was. His head dropped into his hands. Philip still staring at him paws up in the dash warm air still blowing his golden fur. Virgil just started crying feeling the volume of his music vibrating the windshield. He didn't have much energy. The broken man was cold and exhausted from the week. And it was back to just being him and- No he didn't even have that. Logan was with Patton and would follow him. And Philip was gonna be...locked in this car tomorrow.

Why couldn't he just get it right this one time?

Virgil felt the bitter wind bite his ears again. His car stuttering beneath him. A painful reminder he was supposed to get gas. “ Fu-fuck you too universe.” He said bitterly and he laid there as the car's engine wound down to a halt beneath him. And he curled up on his side waiting, hoping that some asshole would drive by.

Anyone.

Roman jolted upright when his phone started to chime he practically dove across the room only to feel moderate dread when he saw Logan's name. He answered hesitantly, “ Hello specs! How are you this afternoon?”

“ I am satisfactory Roman, I was gonna bring over the stuff Patton made for you and Virgil tonight is that okay?” Roman sighed softly, he was not ready to have this conversation.

“ Virgil isn't coming over tonight, or for a while. We split up this morning.”

“ Oh, well that is unfortunate, I wonder why Virgil didn't call me. then?”

“ He went to work instead of coming here pocket protector. Look you guys can come over later. “

“ Are you honestly that mad about my brother taking care of priorities?”

“ I am tired of never being a priority.”

“ Falsehood. You are one of the most important people in the world to him. He doesn't trust that many people and if you're going to brush him by for taking tender care of his independence I don't know what to say.” Roman ended the call slamming it on the counter and sauntering to his room after grabbing the champagne from the bucket on the table.

He didn't need to be yelled at by someone outside of the situation, how was that right?

Logan pulled his phone from his ear dialing Virgil's number, walking upstairs to grab his keys. How dare Roman treat his brother that way? He said nothing to Patton as he passed, prompting a concerned look. He let his partner trail behind, Logan would explain momentarily.

“ Virgil please pick up…” He muttered to himself as he looked for the car keys, since they weren't on the key hook. He turned to Patton, “ Patton, where did you leave the keys?”

“Hey, Happy Holiday's, Logan, if this is you, text. I'll get back to you. Roman, I love you I will call in a moment. If it is you popstar? Text me I got some puppy pics on standby. Anyone else? Wrong number.”

“ Virgil, that is not professional voicemail, we talked about this. Let me know you're alright.”

Virgil could see the light of his phone screen light up with his brother's face and grimaced as he watched as Philip barked and clawed at the phone for being loud. Virgil smacked a tired fist on the window as he continued to shiver. He had a little hope maybe they would realize he was gone.

His mind was trying to tell him something… something important but he was a bit confused. The hood was growing cold quickly, and he didn't know what to do. He could follow the road, but if he did that, the broken man might get even more lost, there could be nothing. He only saw trees and road to the horizon basically. What if he couldn't find his car again? What if he couldn't find Philip again?

Maybe they would care..

Virgil was deliriously deliberating with himself, and it was crippling him. His mind was mildly foggy and he didn't feel vigilant and that was causing him to panic again.

Logan didn't like the fact his brother didn't answer his call, he wanted to drive down to the younger's apartment. Virgil wasn't one to let the voice mail get it. Even at work. Logan only called when it was important after all. So to hear the voicemail, it left a bad taste in his mouth.

Patton had stopped him, after all he was an adult. Logan waited for hours even though the concern on his partner's face was ever growing. The sun had begun to dip behind the horizon when Logan stood up and walked to the door. “ I'm leaving, I would like your company, and an explanation why your expression is growing ever more somber. “

The younger partners grabs his coat from the coat hook, his hand, wavering as he heard Logan asked about his expression. “ Roman dumped him for not being around, Ro was complaining about it the last couple weeks… but Virgil was working to pay off an engagement ring. So I understood Virgil needing space during work. But he is off and should have called you.”

“ I uh I can't believe my brother is uh is in a twisted version of 'The Gift of the Magi’. The irony, truly painful. Come along, it seems we are going to have to pull off a Christmas miracle.” Logan muttered as his partner let out a little squeal.

Logan pulled out his phone on the way to his car Patton climbing into the passenger seat. Logan waited for someone to answer the phone at Virgil's work. A small breath of relief came when someone answered.

“ Hot topic Dan speaking can I help you?”

“ Dan, this is Virgil's brother Logan, is he there still?”

“ Nah man he didn't show up today, the manager is furious.”

“ Right, if he comes in tell him to call me. We haven't seen him all day.” With that he hung up glancing at Patton, “ Virgil didn't GO to work. Call your friend. Tell him to start calling Virgil or get up and look for him like us. “

Roman was staring up at the fairy light's that wrapped around his ceiling. The unopened bottle of champagne by his side. He couldn't do it, no he wouldn't drink his problems away. He was not that person,never was. The actor heard his phone ring from the kitchen. The campfire song song, Patton's favorite, he stood slowly and followed the damning noise down the stairs. It drew him in like an ominous siren song, drawing him to a swift execution.

His hand picked it up from the dining table, his eyes glanced at the burning candles almost burnt out before him. There was no hesitation as he answered his phone, assuming the same role he always did with Patton. The role of the happy best friend who didn't have a care in the world. Except for the fact it crumpled around him “ Hola mi amigo, como estás?”

” Roman, Virgil never went to work today. He hasn't answered Logan's call and we are worried. Can you help us find him? He is probably devastated and we need to make sure he is okay. ”

This broke the character instantly for Roman, as mad as he was, he did love Virgil. “ Wh- wait-uh why would he be upset? He was the one putting distance between us?”

“ You absolute moron, if he is working a minimum wage job-”

“ Logan!”

“ No Patton. My brother has been missing for hours because this theater clown decided to be self righteous! A minimum wage job on a hallmark holiday that puts to shame hundreds of his class. He has a man he loves, and would want to give him a great gift. Roman I know you don't understand, I am well aware of that-”

“I am leaving now, Logan, not arguing.” Roman piped up ending the call with no hesitation. He gathered his coat and keys. He didn't know where Virgil was but he had to find him.

He called his ex in a panic as he sprinted down the driveway to his car.

Virgil was curled up in a ball on the cold hood of his car the gas had run out a small while ago. Which meant the thrum of the music was gone. He was in silence at least until the smooth bass of Roman's voice singing to him tickled his ears. Philip immediately pawing at the screen. The tired man listened to the sweet sound as it hit his ears. If it was the last time, he was okay with that now. He bumped his fist against the windshield in a rhythmic manner

The broken man thought when the music cut off his love had been sent to voicemail but the tapping of his fist continued, as did the barking. Virgil normally looked, bit he was tired his body shaking apathy gripping him.

“Hey, Happy Holiday's, Logan, if this is you, text. I'll get back to you. Roman, I love you-. Click”. There was a moment of relief, though it was tainted with dread. Virgil answered his call, at least that was what Roman thought, until Philip barking was the majority of what he could hear.

“ Philip? What the hell? Where's Virgil?” Roman said shocked at the absurdity of his dog answering. That was when he heard it, a very gentle thumping. Like Virgil was trying to get attention from him.

‘ If this works… I will stop teasing My Chemical Romance. I swear.' The actor thought to himself before howling to get the dog to paw at the screen maybe he could get him to hit speaker. What happened next might have been a Christmas miracle, or simply just luck but he knew. He could never tease the band again. The thumping was clearer now.

“ Virgil? Are you there? “ There was a moment of silence but it was followed by a heavy thump thump. Heavier than it had been at least. Virgil was able to hear him but couldn't vocally respond. Okay. “. Virgil. I need to know where you on the way to my house or work. One tap for me two taps for work.”.

Thump

“ Alright I am coming I am gonna drive and find you. Okay I am going to get off-” Roman was cut off from a thump of protest. Okay. The actor started singing as he drove around, very gentle song met with the rhythmic beating against the window. Ro was breaking speed limits trying to find his partner. It sounded like he had taken back roads. Too quiet to be the main roads.

Virgil was hopeful, he wanted to be awake for Roman when he came, but he was starting to think it may not happen. He was so cold everything was numb and he felt that even the tapping on the windshield was taking the strength of ten men. The rhythm slowed and he heard Roman say something to him. There wasn't much he could do. The broken man was able to hear the actors tone grow frantic. But in the minutes passing he couldn't understand what was being said.

At least not enough to make a difference. He understood an occasional shout that broke though, ‘Vir-’. Other than that, it was lost on him. By fifteen minutes later the tapping had almost ceased. The shaking was constant and he couldn't control it, nor did he care to.

He could hardly hear a word, yet he felt familiar strong arms around him and pick up his body with minimal effort. He felt himself get set in the back seat of a car feeling a familiar clutter of costumes and soft props. It felt hot in the car, felt painful like running a cold hand under too warm of water. Then the door opened on the passenger side and Philip bounded in. The other back door opened again and he felt Roman climb in and remove his coat and shirt.

Roman removed his own shirt pressing it against the cut in his elbow and wrapped himself around Virgil trying to warm him up while the ambulace located them. The actor went to move the sweatshirt to the passenger seat when he saw a small box fall from his pocket. It brought tears to his eyes. “ I am sorry Virgil, so so sorry.”

“I...love you…” Virgil sighed,his voice weak and thick from exhaustion as Roman felt his body quivering, it was slowly warming up.

“ I love you too..” Roman whispered carding his fingers through chilled hair. “ I'll pay for your window later.” They may not be okay right now, but it will get better.

#pandorafic #sanders sides #tw:hypothermia #tw: panic attack #fanfic #tw: mentionsofalcohol

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anuknowha · 5 years

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Till Death Do We Part// Chapter 6, You Never Pay Respect

Serious disclaimer: This chapter is angsty, very angsty so please turn away if it offends you. There's also a trigger warning of suicide in this chapter. I do not endorse suicidal actions or thoughts. I do not support Kim Jonghyun's death, this is not about poking fun at it. This is a chapter of a story I wrote in order to portray the inner demons he had inside of him that he had to battle with. I loved him as an artist and he was a talented person who doesn't get enough appreciation. And with that I dedicated a chapter to him to show that one, he was human, and two, that he is still relevant even if his label doesn't believe it. R.I.P Kim Jonghyun 1990-2017. !!Suicidal Mention Warning. This one is strong so please turn away if you can’t handle it. One morning...

'It all started about 9 years ago when SM Entertainment pulled me and 4 others boys to form the Korean boy band, Shinee. We were an amazing band, a group of five misfits doing what they do best. Singing, dancing, wrapping, and so on. I, Kim Jonghyun, was the leader, and I was accompanied by Lee Jin-ki, Kee Ki-bum, Choi Min-Ho, and Lee Tae-min and together we made a band that stood out to others. We weren't no EXO, and we definitely weren't no BTS, but we were us, and we were happy being us. Because we knew we were talented, special, different, each with our own uniqueness that we could contribute to the group. And that's what made Shinee. Sometimes we were sad, upset that we never had been able to truly get our names out there but other times we knew that was just a thought. It was our doubts, it was, just what it was, a lie. We were very successful in our careers, and we still are. I honestly wouldn't have asked for a better team. Year after year we would go on stage and present ourselves to our fans as we engaged with them, as they screamed for us. It was music to our ears. They would chant for us, and scream every time we did something funny or just stepped out on stage. And, when all of them sung together; even if they didn't know the words, we sung with them. If we were energetic than so were they, if we were tired they would feel bad, and if we needed comfort they would always send us tweets even if we don't respond to them it didn't mean we didn't read them. No matter where we went to put on a show there was always a positive environment and that's all we needed to get going. Actually come to think of it my favorite tour was Shinee World Tour V. We got to come to the United States for the first time in 2017 and I must say I enjoyed my time there. I was never aware of how many fans we had overseas because SM seemed like they were saving us for something special, or maybe they were just trying to hold us back. The latter is something I don't want to believe but I wouldn't be surprised about, like I said, we were no EXO. We didn't get to get many places, outside of Asia, most of our tours consisted of Japan and South Korea... Which was nice until you realized that there's so much more out there. When we finally got to go to North America in the beginning of 2017 we were thrilled! We all jumped out of bed in excitement and we laughed while on our airplane ride. And when we got there it was almost as if those past 9 years was leading up to this; it felt as if this is what we were waiting for. And I have to say it did feel like a big victory for us. While in America walking through the streets made me think of Onew and how much he would enjoy the taste of fried chicken back home. It was his favorite dish, and even though it was available back at home, especially at our KFCs, that didn't stop him. Even if he wasn't hungry he'd joke about seeing a place that sells such a delicious meal, and how he'd want to try it. Place after place he would name, and we tried to get to a few but we weren't in North America for too long. Three shows, one in Canada and two in the United States. It felt degrading to be so high in SMs rankings and still be forgotten. I was thinking maybe it was a mistake, but nonetheless, our fans made up for it every time we saw their smiling faces. I was happy to be successful. I was happy to perform. I was happy to be part of something bigger than I ever thought was possible -- so I thought. I felt my happiness declining for a while now, maybe about two to three years. And I wasn't quite sure why. I had everything I wanted, a loving family, kind friends, and a job that could go on until who knows how long if we kept enjoying it and if they found purpose in us. I was content with the lifestyle, although the company kept us on a leash. Maybe that's actually what I hated... I didn't like being held back, and even with what seemed to be my "true potential" it always was as if I had no power, no say in my life until they dropped our contract. Even if they did I'd still have to give two years in the military, at the least, as either entertainment or a soldier in a war. It's not like I had the luxury of that being a choice. I had picked my passion, I had reached my "goal" but even so, I still felt empty. I tried helping other people and still nothing, it was as if something deep inside me was missing and I couldn't find it. Everyday of 2017 had gotten worse for me, it seemed as if my life was heading completely downhill in a troubling spiral and that I could not stop it. I had been thinking -- suicide had been on my mind a lot recently and it wasn't something I could avoid. It's something I needed to talk about but I didn't want to worry the others and I didn't want the entertainment company mad at me. So I kept myself quiet. And by keeping quiet I ended up dead. A few weeks before I took that final step, I wrote a suicide note to a close friend in which I admitting that the fame was getting to me, that it was too much and that I was on the brink of collapse, that I was about to give up. And, although she did try to stop me it only I remember it as if it just happened. In late December I decided it was time; I rented out an apartment for two days just so that my demise wouldn't be disturbed. I remember going on an app and texting my sister things like, "I love you." , "I'm sorry." , and "Goodbye". I know it broke her heart, and I saw that she read them but I couldn't dare bring myself to read anything she texted back. I couldn't bare to even pick up the phone after those messages were sent. I listened to my phone go off, chime after chime and also a sudden vibration, which startled me. I remember looking over and tears started to swell in my eyes but I continued on anyway. I dug around in my pocket where I had little pieces of coal, they were as dark as my thoughts at the moment and it was as if I could see myself in them -- in this reflectionless mineral. I walked over to the stove and turned it on slowly. There was a pan I left on top if it from breakfast, and I watched as I almost instinctively placed those little black pebbles into the pan. And soon enough they started to burn. I looked at my hands, black with the dust of coals. I tried to rub it off onto my pants but to no avail, they were stained, and at this point, so were my thoughts. I walked back to the couch as the fumes from the burning material started poking at my nose. It felt poisonous and gross. It felt as if the air was being sucked from my lungs as carbon monoxide filled the room. I felt myself going numb, my whole body losing a battle against the lack of oxygen. I started coughing, and the smoke from the air was inhaled into my lungs. But I dare not move. I probably wouldn't have made it to the stove anyway, it seemed so much further from where I was standing. Maybe this was a bad way to go, maybe this was a bad idea in general. I didn't like it, it was hurting a lot more than I expected. And by this time I could barely keep my eyes open. My eyes glanced down, the last thing I saw was my phone lighting up and shaking vigorously on my lap. I blacked out, lost consciousness but still breathing. Just clinging on to life. I felt the cells in my brain fade. I was forgetting, I wasn't thinking, I almost forgot who I was as my time on this earth was coming to a close. It was such a small window left for me to live by the time the ambulance arrived to take me in. I couldn't think, I couldn't move, I lost all feeling in my body and I was losing all thoughts in my mind. At this point I could only remember watching her call, my sister, and trying to stop me from taking a drastic step into the afterlife. I think if I was able to give one more thought right before I took my last breath, it would've been "I'm sorry." Jonghyun woke up, sitting up quickly. his heart racing what felt like over a mile a minute. He coughed and gripped his chest as tears formed in his eyes. He couldn't breathe and he felt himself having a "heart attack." He tried to hold back a scream as best he could. With his blue pajama shirt clenched in his fist he let out a blood curdling scream that was loud enough for the whole house to hear. He quickly covered his mouth afterwards, completely embarrassed and in shock at the situation. He gripped his hair tightly and pulled on it in anger almost pulling it out in the process. He curled up in a ball, tears rolling down his cheeks and staining his pajamas, time after time as he let out loud whimpers and noises of complete distress as he felt himself slowly growing accustomed to reality. He was dead, he had killed himself because he couldn't take that life anymore, but at the same time he knows he can't take this one either. He didn't want to be here either, he wanted it all to be over. He let out another scream, this time choking on his tears as he scrambled to get out the bed falling onto his stomach. Jonghyun coughed hard at the impact and started to crawl towards the dresser in his room. With each passing movement he felt his chest growing tighter, and with the little bit of strength he had he pulled himself to his feet he grabbed onto the dresser and looked into the mirror in front of him. He pressed his hands down on the top of the furniture for support and took deep breathes, as deep as he possibly could. His eyes were red and puffy underneath as tears continued to flow like a waterfall. Drop after drop landed on the top of the dresser forming a puddle of sadness directly underneath his face. His cheeks were swollen, and moist with his sadness and depression. And with that he took his arms and knocked everything off the dresser. They all landed to the floor with different sorts of sounds. His head was throbbing and he yelled out in pain. He ran over to his bed throwing off the pillows, the sheets, watching them hit the floor almost gracefully even after all the force he used. He continued to cough and toss everything that was once neat into a chaotic mess. He picked up the tv remote and threw it at the mirror which caused it to shatter. He collapsed to his knees taking long deep breathes. His head was down and his eyes were covered by his hair. He gathered himself and picked himself up from the now messy floor before marching towards the dresser once more and he used his hand to brush his hair from his face. He looked directly into the mirror in front of him and his eyes would flicker black. It did not at all phase him. Slowly a man in the mirror started to form, but he didn't say a word. "Poor Jonghyun, you're such a mess, you're crying over your own suicide. Do you know how pathetic you sound? You did this to yourself, you caused it, you made this happen. Don't you think they all miss you? Don't you think your sister misses you? Your parents miss you, and so do your band mates. But you know who doesn't care about you? Your company. They just wanted you for money, so they can strive and be more recognizable because of your group. And you helped them, you led them. You brought them the funds they needed to stay alive. You were their number one slave. You always were, you know how it is. And in the back of your mind you knew you'd never be as popular as EXO. You knew this and yet they kept pushing you in greed. They can't help themselves. And you know you couldn't either when you decided it was time to end it." The voice seemed to move further away from him, as the figure appeared on his bed with its legs crossed. "Very unholy of you to take your life like that. And I must say it was thought well outside the box, usually carbon monoxide is put into a car to kill you, but burning coals, coals! I wouldn't have ever thought of that as an idea but you are very creative in your ideas you humans are. But I think you did the right thing regardless of the matter. And the fact that you rented out an apartment for two days was simply priceless! You had this completely planned out didn't you?" Jonghyun took deep long breathes in front of the mirror, his fingernails digging deep into the wooden top causing scratch marks to be created and blood to seep from his finger tips. He mumbled something in Korean. And the human figure turned towards him. "Hmm?" It grinned. "Fuck off!!" Jonghyun screamed. In the back of his mind he knew two things, he would usually never get this angry and he wouldn't have felt so pent up so easily, but at the moment, none of that mattered. "That's no way to talk to me, it's very rude of you to be like that towards me. Very rude of you but brave nonetheless. Jonghyun, you were so smart to pull a stunt and all alone, killing yourself slowly. Tell me how did it feel to take in that smoke? Did it make you choke? Did you cough up any blood? Did you ever worry about burning the place down? Because seemingly you didn't, thank goodness they arrived in time to stop a building from being destroyed, too bad they couldn't stop you from being destroyed." He picks up and object and throws it at the creature on the bed, it goes right through them. It walked back behind him and smiled at him bearing its human teeth. "I remember that day of your life very vividly, realizing your mistake after it was too late, after you completely lost consciousness. Your mind was slowly dying consuming all of those toxins. Brain dead right? You couldn't help it though." His body trembled at the thought, his lips turning black and leaking a black ooze. The creature looked at him shocked. "Let me help you forget everything." It ran its fingers over his lips and stared at the sticky substance that now was on its hand. Touching its fingers together, it watched the substance coat its fingers forming sticky strands to connect them. "Leaking already? What a shame. You're going to make a mess." It watched the thick goo drop onto the desk. Jonghyun turned around to swipe at the creature who vanished before he could even touch him. It reappeared in front of him and once again he tried swiping at it only to knock off some of the glass from the mirror. This continued to go on for some time and it left his room in shambles and once he was done, was his finger tips were all damaged and a deep shade of red; once his walls had scratch marks running down them; once the walls had red streaks mixed in with the blue paint, he was left painting on the bed. Anger and rage coursing through his veins. "Done yet? You threw quite the tantrum there. You destroyed your room pretty well, but no fear, I can fix it for you. The creature covered his mouth with a hand and Jonghyun blacked out. Jonghyun awoke in his room with a gasp. He clenched his chest as he sat up, the sheets stopping at his stomach. He coughed and the tears started to form. He felt himself choking, remembering his own death was the "death" of him. He looked around, everything in his room was the same as before. It was clean, tidy and everything was in place. He cupped his face in his hands and let the tears run down them. He curled up, holding his legs to his chest as he thought to himself quietly. He surely did regret his suicide. 'I came to the conclusion, we all have our demons, but not all of us can fight against them. I lost my battle and I'm regretting it for the rest of "my existence." But, sometimes I'm glad I'm gone because, back on earth, "they" really didn't care anyway. But regardless of where I am, I'll never forget my friends, family, or any of the wonderful Shawol. I thank you for giving my life meaning and for listening when I needed you the most. It made every minute back on earth something I could endure a little bit longer.'

Taglist: @lennonwhipped @rogers-flowered-blazer @caviarandqueen @celestialmay @sweet-mother-love @peacelennon @caminc91

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istrys · 6 years

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Death and Rebirth

Areus gasped out with a wet cough, spilling blood and spit along the uneven stones beneath him. The icy hand of death no longer gripped his body, but merely hovered over him like an indecisive card player; the uncertainty of his surroundings only furthered his desperate need to survive. Areus ran his trembling hand across his chest- soaked and sticky with what had to be his own blood. He’d survived wounds far more grievous before, stabbed deeper and closer to his heart; with a simple binding spell and a lot of liquor he could endure, but this time it was different. The Holy Light intervened for all the wrong reasons. Without the shadows bending to his will, the old wounded soldier was blind and helpless to treat his own injuries, and now time was his greatest enemy.

The crisp breeze indicated early morning, but with most of his senses dulled, he couldn’t be sure. First he tried crawling to something stable enough to force him on his feet, but his legs wouldn’t budge, and the cold weight spreading over his chest and into his limbs made any sort of movement an agonizing uphill battle. His fingertips clawed into stone and dirt and snow with all his might, nails scraping against mortar from a fallen wall, threatening to tear off with every forceful yank. Bit by bit every attempt tore at the flesh of his fingers. He needed to make it out of the Bloodsworn Vanguard ruins and onto a main road but was bleeding out far faster than he had ever imagined. The man managed to patch together what was left of his shredded arm with what little mana he had left yet even with two halfway decent extremities, it wasn’t really working out for him.

Thoughts of the past flooded his mind as he struggled to lift himself up, crawling desperately with what little strength he had left for survival.

“Ash… I’m sorry for doing what I must… I plan on being back…- -Being with you makes me smile and gives me a feeling that I c- -I really enjoyed spending time with you toda- -My heart will always be yours, as long as you want it.”

Areus managed to wrap his fingers around a rock with some weight to it; immediately he struck himself in the forehead one, two, three times, trying to keep himself conscious through the pain. His mind drifted to blissful instances of memories with his loved one. Letters he once sent her. This was a distraction allowing him to succumb to his fate- she was already dead. The thought was ever so enticing, so sweet and sickening. To be allowed to die only to be at her side again yet… he couldn’t stop thinking about those who were still alive. His son, his brother, his niece, his nephew, his sister-in-law… too many people to let down yet no matter how much he grit his teeth he couldn’t fix his predicament. Everything seemed to slow down and his movements felt so sluggish. If only he could have one more sip of his flask. If only he could have one last drag of his pipe.

“Ah… I could… really… go for a… drink…” he rasped in between breaths as the light in his dull glazed eyes dimmed like the sun drifting beneath the horizon. As he slowly closed his eyes, the distant sounds of feet pattering about barely caught his attention. The voice of a child whispered near his ears, likely no older than five or six; if a child that young was out here, their parents wouldn’t be too far behind. A surge of hope coursed through his stiffening body at the prospect of a traveler’s caravan finding him. “Who… ‘s… the-...?” his dry voice cut out. More little voices chirped and whispered amongst themselves, until it felt like he was surrounded by a small crowd. “Ge… he… hel-...” He used the last of his strength to speak, but his jaw was beginning to tighten shut as well. It felt like he was laying there for the children’s spectacle for years. Eventually he gave up trying to speak, and slowly rested his head into the grass to accept his fate. Not until heavier footsteps approached, not until the sensation of innumerable tiny hands grasping at his clothes, and not until the whisper of a foreign incantation did Areus find the resolve to open his dulled eyes again.

“Erana-dora isil,” The voice of a matured woman gently spoke. “You’re in good company.”

He felt the weight of his body wash away like the tide, his spirit rising off the ground to float suspended in the air; the agony of dying was gone, and so too were the voices. Areus felt free, liberated by the shackles of his once many burdens. He saw Azeroth again with his own eyes - a sensation he never knew he missed so badly. The splashing of vibrant colors of the trees caused the elf to choke on his own tears. The higher he rose the more he saw, until he could see the glimmering towers of Silvermoon City to the north, and the deep forests of the Hinterlands to the south. His thoughts then returned to Ashelin, and everything he would tell her when he saw her again in the afterlife; tears of joy rolled down his cheeks as he gazed at the first rays of light from the rising sun to the east.

A flash of light quickly covered the horizon and forced Areus to shield his eyes. When the blinding light dimmed he was able to lower his hand to gaze at a giant blue mushroom cloud a mile off the coast; it was the single largest mana bomb explosion he had ever seen, perhaps the largest anyone had ever seen. The sonic boom that reverberated away from ground zero ripped toward the continent and heaved blazing trees out of the ground. Within moments Quel’Thalas was engulfed in blue flames, and Areus was helpless to stop it. He screamed out in horror at the searing winds rushing over Silvermoon City, toppling its towers and searing the streets and walls black. Thoughts of his family crying out seconds before turning to nothing more than ash silhouettes against the explosion filled him with raw and absolute dread. He couldn’t hear their screams this far over the carnage, but he knew what it would sound like; a thousand voices screeching at the top of their lungs from the searing heat, then silence. He looked down to see the land reduced to ash and dirt, with the flames devouring the once beautiful Eversong Woods. Silvermoon City, the Amber Glade, the Ghostlands, all of it - gone in an instant.

A deep guttural roar caused his heart to run cold. Out from the boiling oceans a gigantic mountain of flesh, tendrils and teeth arose, seemingly uninjured yet enraged. The nameless Old God let loose its maddening wrath, coughing forth an army of faceless aberrations that clamored over the glassed shores to feast on anything or anyone that managed to survive. Even worse, it writhed and twisted its massive body, turning the very air around its mass a putrid black with noxious fumes and accursed magic. Within moments Areus watched a once beautiful land he called home for centuries completely obliterated by his own people, and further desecrated by the sleeping nightmares rising from the depths of the sea. On the other side of the scorched continent another Old God popped out of the churning waves, then another, and then another. Without a doubt, it was the end of the Sun’raels, the end of the Sin’dorei, the end of Azeroth.

Then he fell. Like a meteor reentering the atmosphere, Areus fell spiraling and twisting against the heat that seared his bones. He screamed out in agony while the blackened earth rose up to catch him, fearing what the warring Old Gods would do with his soul, and the souls of his kin, once they captured him. He wanted to rise up into paradise and walk with Ashelin for all time, but this madness would only be the start of his eternal torment. He fell into the cloud of fumes and choked on blinding spores, which filled his lungs with poison and his heart with maddening hatred; he grew swollen with malice and was bursting at the seams with a bloodlust so ripe and pure he forgot what happiness, compassion, and love felt like. Areus was ripped into a million pieces the instant he splattered against the ground, but his last thoughts were of dying over and over again, until either the Old Gods died of old age, or until the end of time.

When he opened his eyes again, a familiar darkness clouded his vision. His entire body ached like every inch of his body was impaled by needles, and when he tried to move, agony cut deep into his very bones. “Be still.” The voice from earlier spoke, causing his ears to twitch. “Recovering from the brink of death takes a toll on one’s body.” Areus opened his glazed eyes to see the face of the woman speaking, but his beloved sight was gone again; the Holy Light still lingered in his body as well, making her shadowy silhouette flicker erratically. “Let me know if you can feel this.” A sharp ache suddenly began throbbing in his wrist, flooding his head with the bitter memories of his brother.

Alucieus stabbed him. His own kin. His own brother. For the longest time they were rivals, polar opposites where one basked in the power of the Holy Light, while the other delved into the forbidden secrets of the Void; yet they were always there when they needed each other, always ready to save the other’s life, because family was more important to them than anything. Everything changed when Alucieus chopped off Areus’ hand, lifted him up by the throat, and ran his gladius into his chest. The last thing he remembered before blacking out the first time, was the hard thud from dropping onto the ground, and the heavy footsteps of his brother leaving him to bleed out and die. “Augh...nn-!” His throat was as dry as it could be.

“Here…” The frantic silhouette of her form drew closer with a pungent stench now biting at the tip of his nose. “Drink.” Areus barely had a choice in the matter, feeling a hand clasp at his jaw while she forcefully poured the foul contents into his mouth. For a while he coughed and sputtered, but eventually he was able to get at least some of it down his throat while the rest either sat in his mouth or slipped out from the corners of his lips. It was the most wretched slime he had ever tasted.

Yet despite the sudden urge to vomit, the room around him finally began to settle down. He was able to get a clearer image of his surroundings even with the Holy Light still stinging in his chest; something about that sludge she forced down his throat also helped calm the sporadic silhouettes that surrounded him. The woman in question was clearly a Nightborne, which only brought more questions than answers. She was stitching his swollen hand back onto his wrist while humming a hauntingly melancholy tune, as foreign magic enveloped her fingers. At least twenty children watched them with varying interest, but he couldn’t tell what race they were with their handmade masks covering their faces, each depicting some sort of animal or monster likely straight out of their wild imaginations; they often whispered amongst themselves, occasionally pointing at him before their giggling picked back up again. One child stood out among the rest, however. He sat away from the other children, and closest to the older woman; he wore no mask, revealing a leathery and decrepit face that seemed half-rotten- an undead child. “Where… am I…?”

“Your new home.” The woman quickly answered, gently tugging at the thin string to tighten another stitch. Areus didn’t like the ominous sound of that; he had no intention of being this woman’s prisoner.

“I should…” Areus started, gulping dryly as images of Ashelin cuddled up against his chest interrupted his thoughts. “... I should be dead.”

“You were.” The woman turned to look at him for a moment before continuing her stitchwork. “I brought you back.”

Areus stiffened as the ache shot up his arm again. He didn’t want to show weakness in front of this stranger if possible. “Why…?” the man asked dryly.

“Why?” She indignantly repeated. “Did Lord Augustus Sun’rael teach you to give up that easily? I brought you back because your story doesn't end with such a meaningless death at the hands of your corrupted brother. To let your talents go to waste would be an affront to your family. A crime to Azeroth.”

He reluctantly laid still. Whether or not he had a choice didn’t matter- the fact that this voice invoked the name of his father meant that they knew much more about the lineage of his family than anyone else. Neither he nor his brother spoke of the patriarch of their clan, they both strived to further the Sun’rael name in their own methods yet somehow this stranger was acquainted with their father, a figure both the brothers detested.

“Your family still needs you.” The woman continued, catching his attention again. “Your sister-in-law especially. She is in a dark place right now… almost as dark as yours.”

“My brother, is he-?”

“Dead?” She pulled one last string and his hand was finally connected with his wrist. “All done. Try to move your hand for me.” Areus was at a loss of words, but he obeyed all the same; agony rocked through his arm, and he was barely able to move a single finger. “That’s what I was afraid of. It looks like it will take a long time before you can control your hand again… but it will never be as it once was.” She watched his face closely while she gently put his hand down. The children continued their private conversations, all except the undead child, who continued to stare at him in morbid silence. “I never gave you my name… I am Aodin. Aodin Umbrose.”

“Well, Aodin,” Areus spoke with labored breaths. “If you're not willing to let me die, then I must be with the rest of my family.”

“Of course.” She seemed unusually complacent. “You are free to leave once your debt to me is paid.”

Areus narrowed his blackened eyes. “I hoped my sincere gratitude was enough, heh… so how much are you blackmailing me for?”

Aodin didn't seem amused. “I don't want your coin.”

“Well you're a lovely looking woman, but I can't provide that eith-"

“I want a treasure from your special vault.” The Witch didn't let him finish that thought. “A grimoire that predates the Black Empire… the Myurkodn.”

Areus blinked at the Shal’dorei for a few moments before chuckling lightly. “I don't know what you're talking about. Anything I can't sell on the market, I toss out with my trash. Ancient books aren't exactly high on demand.”

“You're an adequate swordsman, but a terrible liar.” Aodin leaned back in her chair to judge him with glimmering silver eyes. “I know the Aqir took it with them when they fled north to create Azjol-Nerub. I know you and your brother found it buried under a mountain of insect corpses when you plundered their desecrated kingdom. And I know the Keepers of Shadow tossed it into the very back of their vault, fearing its power.” She paused to let Areus silently question just how much she really knew about his past. “You and Syrahn Bloodfeather are the only two Keepers of Shadow left. I can’t get anywhere near the Glade Queen, and even if I could, she wouldn’t help me. The power stored in that book should not be abandoned. It should not be forgotten.”

His newly reattached hand twitched slightly and quivered, blood slowly working its way through the veins that had been stagnated. Holy light bled into the arteries as they began the long and arduous process to mend. The man’s murky eyes settled on her, “What do you aim to do with it then?”

“Use the knowledge against the true enemies of Azeroth.” She sighed, tapping her elongated fingernails against the arms of her chair. “Surely you’ve foreseen it; the Old Gods rising from the depths to conquer the world once again.”

The small scars etched into the blind man’s eyelids lit up with a soft golden hue before turning to a deep purple tone. The were the shapes of various runes on a much smaller scale had been inscribed into his flesh. The shades of gray and charcoal became a bit more clear and he was able to distinguish forms in tones of black. “Fine. If I get you the Miur Codex, my debt is paid in full?”

“Myurkodn.” Aodin corrected, as the friendly demeanor returned to her voice. “Get me that grimoire and you’ll never owe me another favor again.”

“It sounds like you make out much better than I do in this deal. A weapon to change the fate of Azeroth? No thanks. Like you said, only I and Syrahn know where the vault left by the Keepers of Shadows lies. There’s one way for you to get what you want and I am it. I want three more conditions.”

The Witch shifted in her chair, but kept her composure. “Speak them.”

“One. I want my pipe back filled with tobacco, and the matches with them. Two. A bottle of whiskey. And three. Undo these gods-damned straps.” he gruffly responded. A cruel grin spread wide across her face while she stared through him, clearly unsure if this was some sort of strange jest or not. With a snap of her fingers the undead child hopped off the nearby chair and waddled over to his side; another snap of her fingers and the shackles vanished into smoke. The boy held his mottled grey hands aloft to reveal his pipe.

“You are a strange one,” Aodin sighed, rising from her seat. “But I am glad we could reach an agreement.” A tiny spark of shadowflame flickered off her pointed index finger, offering him a light.

Areus shifted to a seated position on the table, his legs dangling off as he leaned onto his right hand, his left cradled delicately in front of his chest. “I didn’t know you would be this agreeable.” he puffed at his pipe a couple times, “I’m going to have to change the deal to two bottles of whiskey. Or bourbon. Doesn’t matter to me.” he responded casually between puffs. Of course, the alcohol, the smokes and the shackles were inconsequential. All would have been met to his fill in time, yet he was one for immediate gratification. “I’m happy enough with this deal. I’m alive. You’ve served your purpose to the Void and I get to continue mine. And maybe even help my family a bit longer. If it’s darkness you seek, then I’m more than happy to facilitate your request. Just don’t regret it when it’s more than you bargained for.” he offered her a smirk after exhaling a large plume of smoke, “I didn’t.”

The children surrounding Areus scampered off in random directions within the strange house as Aodin continued to watch him take long steady drags of his pipe. “I know the risks and I have safeguards in place to prevent… another disaster. But, I’m afraid this won’t be so easy…” She turned to open a chest he didn’t notice before along the ground. Slowly she raised another flask - this one holding the heart so inky black it hardly looked real; it was still beating. “This belongs to you, Areus Sun’rael. When your brother stabbed you in the chest, he filled your heart with the Holy Light. If I placed it back into you as it is now, the Light would kill you from the inside out. I’ll need time to purge it before I can operate on you again… and it serves as a valuable bargaining chip to ensure you keep your word.”

“You don’t need a bargaining chip. We’ve already made the deal, have we not? I’d like to think we’re both bound to our word as we are bound to the Void. Not like those little void-kiddies running around in the Alliance playing with things they don’t understand.” He took another puff from the pipe before clearing his throat as a wince overcame his face, clearly still in pain.

A shake of Areus’ head came before a response, “Rather than a bargaining chip or a tool for your blackmail, make sure you’ve got that ready for when I come back. I won’t be long.” Areus pointed with the pipe. “You can be sure that when I do come back, and you don’t hold up your half of the deal, you’ll die along with me and that grimoire will be in ashes the same as you as well as anyone within a mile radius.” a sigh came before he took another long drag from his pipe, letting the smoke escape with an exaggerated breath. “In the meantime, what do you have pumping my blood, anyway?” he asked, perking a brow while his right hand reached to adjust the pipe.

“Nothing. This is a forbidden incantation the Gurubashi Empire used for their most zealous warriors in wars long forgotten.” The Witch calmly started before she began to casually walk toward an empty wall of the room. “I won’t bore you with the details, but you’re essentially undead until I put your heart back into your body. The time one has before the heart dies by itself varies from days to weeks… so I wouldn’t get sidetracked if I were you.”

When she reached toward the wall with her left hand, the painted nails on each of her fingers stretched out for several inches. The wood quivered and melted by her touch like it was made of wax, until a gaping hole large enough to walk in appeared. “Once you’ve claimed my prize, go to the Scarlet Monastery. I’ll be waiting there for you.”

An angered smirk came to his visage before he raised the mask resting along his neck to cover his expression. “Fine.” he surged holy magic through his left hand abruptly. He took note of the fact that he did not feel pain from the Light, meaning that he hadn’t quite fullycrossed the bounds into undeath just yet, “You’re going to have to help me with this hand if you want me to brave the traps you won’t dare.”

Aodin perked a brow but stared at his hand for a few moments in silence. “And what exactly are you asking of me?”

“You expect me to believe you can tear someone’s heart out, keep them ‘alive’- I use the term loosely-, stitch them back together, have a gaggle of undead children about, know about hidden ancient grimoires from a long lost kingdom, know forgotten incantations from foreign empires and you can’t help me get my hand working better? If nothing else, it’s pretty fuckin’ painful. And you’re partly at fault for my prolonged misery.” He state matter-of-factly, “You threaten me with my life but who’s to say I wouldn’t have rather joined my beloved and, maybe my brother, in the afterlife? Probably not that asshole for a little while, he did cut my hand off and stab me in the chest. Give me something to work off of here, woman. And where’s that bottle of booze? Fuck, I’ll take rubbing alcohol at this point.” Areus spoke plainly, taking another drag from his pipe as he gave her a deadpanned gaze.

“My you’re a chatty one when you’re excited.” The Witch snapped her fingers, compelling the undead child to step forward with that slender vial filled with a midnight blue liquid. “But you have the details wrong. Only one child - this child - is undead. I hope arcwine will slate your thirst for the time being.”

A shrug was given in response as he winced for a moment. His condition seemed unstable and wore on him before he nodded slowly, “Whatever works. Something. Anything. The voices are coming back and my wrist is killing me.” He haphazardly reached for the bottle, sloshing the contents as he pulled it toward him, keeping his mask lowered just enough to keep the pipe in his mouth and drink straight from the bottle. After a few long gulps he took an exaggerated breath. Areus looked to the Witch before opening his mouth to speak again, paused, and then brought the bottle up to his lips again before devouring the rest of the wine.

He cleared his throat as he tossed the bottle over his shoulder for them to hear it shatter on the ground behind him. “Okay. I guess that’s as good as it’s going to get. See you at the monastery, girly.” The Shadow Priest gave her a wink, “Won’t be long. Make sure you’re there. The vault isn’t far off from it.” A few steps toward the exit and tendrils of shadow reached out to consume him into nothingness while he disappeared from sight.

Aodin stood in her home in silence for a few moments before turning to look down at the forsaken child. “What do you think? Shall we kill him once he returns with my prize?” The child glanced up at the Witch with cold yellow eyes, but said nothing.

“Fair enough.”

Collaborated with @areussunrael

Mentions: @k-sunrael

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yoosungiib · 6 years

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If I Would Ever Leave You - Chapter 3

If I Would Ever Leave You FAQ

This story contains violence, sexual content, sexual abuse, and strong language. If you are at all uncomfortable with any of these topics, DO NOT READ.

Contains spoilers to the Secret Endings 01 and 02

** THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT. Last chance if you are not comfortable with this type of content!

I wake up to the smell of bacon and pancakes. Instead of on the couch where I know I fell asleep last night, I’m in my warm bed, snuggled under the duvet with my head rested against a fluffy pillow. I turn to see Saeran not laying next to me, and then I hear the clattering of pans. Gingerly, I crawl up and swing my legs off the side of the bed. I groan at a slight pain; I pull my shirt up and look at my waist. There are blotches of red from where Yoosung dug his nails into me, but nothing too bad.

The smell of bacon and pancakes becomes increasingly stronger as I exit the bedroom and enter the small kitchen. I’m cold, so I wrap my arms around Saeran while he flips the pancakes, and rest my cheek against his upper back. I sigh, enjoying his warmth and squeezing him a little -- not too hard to make him uncomfortable.

“Go back to bed,” he says. “You need to rest. I will bring you your breakfast.”

I chuckle lightly. “You need to rest too.”

Saeran moves in my arms, leaning down to kiss my forehead then boop my nose. “Go to bed. I’ll rest with you.” I nod, kissing him quickly, then making my way back to bed. I jump in and under the covers, wrapping myself in the warm blanket. I wiggle my toes trying to bring back some warmth.

My phone buzzes, rattling against the wood of the nightstand, so I lazily reach across for it, slinging it towards me. I grumble at the bright flash, even though the room is not too dark. Everything is fuzzy, but the texts become clear all too soon.

1 text from Zen, 2 from Jumin… and 57 from Yoosung, plus the 29 missed calls. I’m surprised my phone isn’t dead or that the constant notifications didn’t wake me up or Saeran. Well, Saeran is a heavy sleeper, so I can see him sleeping through it.

The door is nudged open and Saeran walks in holding two stacks of pancakes. I giggle and his face turns red as he hands me a plate before sitting down next to me. With his free arm, he pulls me close to him. He puts his stash of pancakes on his night stand, then wraps that arm around me too. I notice how he bites the inside of his cheek, waiting, or wanting to say something. I kiss his cheek and muster, “Are you ok, Saeran?”

He nods but I’m not convinced. I take a bite of my pancake and ask one more time. This time, he responds. “I’m fine. I’m thinking about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Are you ok?”

I laugh. “Of course I am.”

“I don’t believe you.” I frown, crooking my head to the side. I’m about to speak but he stops me, taking my small hand in his gradually larger and warmer one. “Tell me everything that happened yesterday now that you have calmed down. Don’t think that I will be mad at you for anything. I just want to know the whole story.”

Saeran deserves to know the whole story. All I told him was that there was a small disagreement between me and Yoosung last night. Of course, ‘small’ and ‘disagreement’ is such an understatement, but how could I tell him of what Yoosung did? The sweet, blonde boy who's always been my best friend, his friend too, cornered me and, in a sense, violated me. He hurt me, though not majorly, but enough to leave a mark. Saeran is smart, so of course he figured out that the small tears I shed were hiding something bigger, something much more drastic than a disagreement. Maybe by the way I told him I wanted to talk to Yoosung and tell him how uncomfortable he makes me revealed everything. How foolish of me to think I can just forget what happened last night. I can convince myself all I want that the events never happened, but of course, I could never properly forget. Saeran probably would have found out something more happened, anyways, by Zen, since he walked in on Yoosung up close and personal. How did I get into this mess. No, how did we, me, Yoosung, and Saeran, get into this mess.

“I…” I can hardly form the words, and it’s exasperating for me. “I’d rather not talk about,” I conclude. Saeran lets out a huff, falling back against the headboard. He’s annoyed, I can tell. He wants me to trust him and tell him everything, and I do trust him, of course, but how do you tell your boyfriend another man tried to kiss you. “Saeran, I just don’t-”

“Can I feed you?” he interupts. I blink a couple times, shrugging, and a little confused at what he’s getting at. I nod and pull my legs up so Saeran can move to sit in front of me. I squeak, but giggle when Saeran pulls me a little closer and wraps my legs around his waist. He grabs the stack of pancakes and starts cutting one into tiny pieces. He brings the first piece towards my lips and I slowly open my mouth. I wrap my lips around the fork and pull at the pancakes. I look him right in the eyes as I swallow the food. He snorts a little, picking up another piece. “Why are you looking at me like that? You’ll get yourself into trouble.”

He feeds me another bit as I quirk a brow. “What do you mean by that?”

Saeran chuckles, putting the fork down and taking a grasp of my chin. He dips my head back and leans over, a rather sadistic smirk crossing his face. The inner ‘Unknown’ that still hides within Saeran has come out to play. “You know what I mean.” I like my lips picking up stray bits of pancake and syrup, and Saeran slurs, “You see? You have me wanting you now~.” Getting onto his hands and knees on top of me, he pulls me flat on my back underneath him. My giggle turns into an audible moan as Saeran starts to kiss my neck, moving up to suckle and bite on the spot connecting to my jaw. I wrap my arms around his neck, delving my hands into his disheveled, red hair.

His kisses finally move to my lips, a rough and desperate kiss that when it’s over, we are both a little desperate for air. I stroke his cheek, and the tough facade cracks for a second; he can still get flustered to such affections. But a grin prawls back and I feel his hands playing with the ends of my night shirt. I have no bra or panties on, I remember.

He bends down so he can kiss up my stomach whilst pushing up the shirt. The kisses tickle slightly but moreover, it’s pleasuring. His tongue swirls around my belly button as he pushes the shirt over my breasts, tucked underneath my chin. His right hand moves to grope my breath, squishing and tugging at the flesh.. I let out an involuntary moan as I arch my back, desperately wanting to get more touches. He kisses up to my other breast, his pink lips wrapping around my pert nipple and sucking harshly. I grasp at his hair, tugging on it but trying not to hurt him. He takes notice and releases my nipple with a pop.

“Don’t hold back, baby,” he says, his voice turning towards ‘Unknown’ once again. “Now, let's get rid of this for good.” He slings me up and pulls the shirt over my head. I laugh as I plop back down onto the bed, my breasts bouncing. Saeran frowns, mumbling, “You’re not suppose to find this funny. You’re supposed to be turned on.”

I smile, pulling him back towards me to kiss him. Our tongues dance together in a small movements, and our lips tugging desperately at each other. “I am turned on,” I muster against his lips. Thats enough to make him let out a deep growl. He is quick in pulling his shirt off and tossing it on the floor with me. I run my hands against his tone muscles, my fingers rubbing against the tattoo on his shoulder, the other hand cupping his neck.

Sooner than later, our pants have been shed and thrown to the ground, and our naked bodies are pressed and wrapped around each other. His hand moves up and down my back, stroking every bit of skin he can find, and I kiss any parts of him I can find.

When his tongue caresses the hidden area between my thighs, I’m a moaning mess as my head hits the backboard. His tongue moves inside of me, bringing me close to the brink but he commands that I do not cum yet. I squirm as his fingers rub at my clit, only stimulating me more and making it harder to not break apart right then and there. When he’s done with teasing me, he moves back up my body and looks me in the eyes as he places himself at my heat, slowly pushing inside of me and stretching me wide.

I groan as he hits a spot deep inside of me. He stays still for a moment, letting the both of us adjust to each other, before finally moving. I keep my arms wrapped around his neck while his hands are splayed to the side of my head. My eyes roll back into my head as I finally reach my climax. I roll my head back up.

I see his mint eyes gazing down at me, lovingly. I see stars, spirling around as I spiral through my climax. I see… a shadow. I shadow of man on the ground. A man that isn’t Saeran because Saeran in on top of me, inside of me. I look up towards the window and a figure dunks down, all I see is a flash of blue, a light blue coat, yet he’s too quick for me to catch any details.

I let out a high pitch scream, pushing Saeran off and out of me while grabbing the blankets around us to cover the both of us. Saeran panics, trying to get a hold of me as I freak out. Anything I say is incoherent as I cry, pointing towards the window.

“(f/n)! Hey, hey, calm down, calm down! Stop it!” He shouts, shaking me in the while.

“S-someone was watching us! I saw through the window!”

Saeran grabs his dressing gown and rushes towards the window, opening it and expecting the outside. He turns back to me, his brows knit together in frustration. “There is nothing there. And besides, we are on the fourth floor of the building. How the hell would anyone get up here?”

I wipe at my eyes and cuddle myself with my head buried between my knees. “I know what I saw,” I mumble. I saw a shadow. I hear Saeran sigh and then the bed dip beside me. A warm arm is wrapped around my shoulder and I look up to see Saeran. There is something in his eyes this time, not the lovingness I saw earlier. I can see deep worry as yellow flakes against the mint. I have a vague idea what he’s thinking. There is probably on one person, at the moment, crazy enough or able to find an excuse for watching us through the window.

A shadow through the window in a light blue coat.

~~~

A coffee please? ;) ~ Support Me Here Reblogs and comments appreciated!! ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ Headcanon requests still closed~

#Saeran Choi #Ray CHoi #Yoosung Kim #Mystic messenger #Mysme #Mystic Messenger fanfic #Mysme Fanfic

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xxxprettydeadgirlxxx · 6 years

Text

One step forward, three steps back

Summary: You wake up one night to strangers kidnapping you. When Loki finds out it was The Avengers that took you, he wastes no time in getting you back. When the Avengers realize there is more than meets the eye, they are determined to get to the bottom of it. What they discover will force them to change the way they think about the harsh, coldhearted God of Lies. Rating- M Warnings- Violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of rape and sexual assault, mentions of torture. [Reader has a very dark, painful past] Relationships- Loki/Reader Tags- @neurotic-narwhal@nuggsmumreads@burningarbiterheart @starrynight35@christy-winchester @turnoftherogue @a-manduhhhhh @nochillrcgers [If you want on or off the tag list let me know] Chapter 1 Chapter 5 Chapter 2 Chapter 6 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 7- An Act Of Love (NSFW)

Loki’s face was pressed firmly between your thighs sucking on that sensitive bundle of nerves, while simultaneously plunging two fingers back and forth inside you. You whimper and squirm beneath him, and a wanton moan escaped your lips when Loki curled his fingers. Again and again, he built you up to the brink of release only to pull back, and begin again. Before long, you were dripping wet and desperate for release.

'I want you to take me when I come.’

You weren’t sure what had come over you in that moment - maybe you were going mad with desire or maybe it was because you couldn’t think straight - you didn't know. What you did know, was that you wanted this.

'Are you sure? I will do anything you ask, but I need to be sure that it's what you want.'

'Yes, Loki. I'm sure, I want this.'

'Alright, baby. But promise me, if it becomes too much and you want to stop, tell me, and I’ll stop.’

'I promise. ......Loki?'

'Hmm?'

'I trust you.'

'...I know you do.'

The pressure in the pit of your stomach was slowly building again. As you're about to climax, he doesn't pull back this time. Instead, he continually changed his patterns and kept you dangling on the edge.

SO CLOSE.

How he kept you on the brink without tumbling over was beyond your comprehension. All it would take is one wrong move - the wrong lick, the wrong stroke, the wrong application of pressure - and you would go spiraling off the edge.

'That's it, baby. Just let it build.'

Sobbing and panting, the heat inside you rises, spreading throughout your entire body. Muscles tightening, thighs quivering, heavy breathing. Wave after wave of pleasure flowing through your body.

'You want to come so badly, don’t you?’

‘Yes, please! Please, Loki!' You nod frantically, virtually screaming at him in your mind and nearly driven mad with arousal.

‘Then come for me, sweet girl. Come undone against my mouth, let me feel you clench around my fingers.'

Even telepathically, Loki's voice was pure sex.

Ceasing his teasing, he was now a man on a mission and it took little to nothing to set you off, your orgasm hitting you so hard, you see stars. If you hadn't been so absorbed in the pleasure, the needy and desperate sounds that you were involuntarily making might have been embarrassing.

Arching your back, you dig your fingers into the bed sheets, and at the same moment, Loki slides himself up your body, bracing one hand on the bed for support and withdrawing the hand between your legs, quickly positioning his manhood against your entrance. His dark, lust filled gaze locked with yours. Releasing himself, he gripped your waist and just as you start contracting inwards Loki sunk himself inside you, moaning blissfully as he did.

You gasp at the invasion, drawing a shuddering breath. Rocking back and forth against you with short thrusts Loki eased himself deeper inside of you. You moan, still feeling yourself contracting around him - the slow pace dragging out your release - and once he was completely sheathed within you, halted all movement.

For several moments, it felt as if time had stopped - nothing else mattered - there was only you, and Loki.

Releasing the sheets you take hold of his shoulders for support. Securing your leg beneath the knee Loki pulled it up until your inner thigh pressed against his hip. Claiming your mouth with his own he kissed you deeply, longingly. He urged your lips apart and slipped his tongue into your mouth and then, ever so slowly, he started to move within you with long, drawn-out thrusts.

The sensation that coursed through your body with every thrust went beyond anything you’d ever felt before. The pleasure was indescribable; transcendental.

Even the sound of his breathing was erotic and you moan into his mouth closing your eyes as he kissed you. Pulling away, he gave you a moment to catch your breath and ran his lips along your jawline before resting his forehead against your own.

“Look at me," Loki whispered, so softly and so sweetly, you almost didn't hear him. You open your eyes to find him staring back at you. "Are you okay?" His voice wavered, and you nod, trailing both hands down and around his waist, whimpering, urging him to move faster, harder - anything to increase the build of pressure in your lower stomach.

Sensing your distress, his movements intensify, and before long your nails dig into his lower back. Your climax was sudden and unexpected, curling your toes and tearing a silent scream from your lungs. Loki's thrusts never faltered, prolonging your pleasure and chanting softly against your lips, but before you can question him about it, his movements and breathing become more erratic. Groaning, Loki stiffened and emptied himself inside of you.

The feeling of connecting, of bonding, so intimately with him left you unable to articulate your feelings, ambushed by intense emotions you didn't understand and staining your cheeks with fresh tears. Loki frowned, wiping them away and you quickly let him know that you're okay.

'No, Loki. Please don't look so sad - these are happy tears, I promise. I'm just emotional and a bit overwhelmed, but mostly I'm crying because I love you.'

More tears fall and your eyelids grow heavy.

He kissed you. "And I love you," Loki murmured against your lips. "My love, my light, my life - my everything."

Exhausted and completely spent, you fall asleep in Loki's arms.

The next morning you wake up to Loki's warm body firmly pressed against you, his arm wrapped possessively around your waist. You remain still, not wanting to wake him, and reflect back on last night's events. How tenderly he made love to you, and how you lost yourself as he distracted you to the point you'd forgotten to be afraid. There was no fear, no doubt, only love, and pleasure, the feeling of his body connecting with your own and the wave of emotions it brought along with it. Sex wasn't anything like you remembered, but then again, this was the also first time making love and giving yourself to a person willingly, so really, you couldn't compare the two. Still, not once last night did your past cross your mind, which in itself was major progress. If anything, the experience should have been a lot harder, but perhaps the fact that you were so comfortable showed just how much you loved and trusted the man beside you.

"Good morning, sweet girl," Loki said softly and you roll over to face him, his arm still tightly wrapped around you.

You smile. 'Morning.'

"How are you feeling?"

'Good, a little sore, but good.'

He kissed your lips and whispered, "Was making love everything that you'd hoped it to be?"

'Everything and more.' You reply honestly. 'I loved it, and I can't wait to share the experience with you again.'

"Is that right?" Loki purred and kissed you deeper, sending jolts of electricity directly down to your core. "Perhaps once you're not as sore, I can make good on that request."

'Yes, please.'

'Oh yeah. What the heck were you chanting last night?' You ask a few minutes later. You had forgotten about that little detail until now.

"It was to prevent pregnancy. You are not currently on birth control and we didn't use a condom so I used a spell. I figured neither one of us is ready for that.”

'Oh shit! Yeah - Good! Because I never even considered the possibility of... that.'

"I know, but I did, and I took care of you as I will always take care of you."

#lokific #loki fanfiction #loki/reader #iplaydeadAO3 #xxxprettydeadgirlxxx #One step forward three steps back

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writefortheblueandgold · 7 years

Note

Betty throwing herself into the river instead of Cheryl and Jughead saving her

Im sorry if this is unacceptably long, I’m still new to this! I added more to the ending than I was asked, but I actually really loved this prompt and personally Im proud of this.

Suicide attempt warning. Au.

Betty didn’t attend school that week. She got rid of the ladder outside the window of her bedroom that lay in wait every night for Romeo to ascend. Betty turned off her phone, locked herself in her room and disconnected from everyone, even Jughead, and Polly. Her slick ponytail turned to a messy bun, she was letting her perfect down, and she liked it. No makeup, no care for clothes besides an S sweater that she stole from Jughead and a comfy pair of ripped jeans. Sitting in her too perfectly pink room, on her too perfectly pink bed she closed her eyes and dug her nails into the palms of her hands. The pain almost a relief for her but it wasn’t enough this time. Her mother had pushed her too far. Alice Cooper never shy of strict perfection on her tired daughter had gone way past her limit, Betty could not fight back.

“Oh, Elizabeth stop lying. You’re not depressed, my daughter could never be depressed. If you keep up that attitude I’m gonna kill you. You’ll end up just like Jason. Stop ruining my reputation, don’t you think you’ve done enough damage to the people of this town. You know, in my head I always wanted you to go like Cliff Blossom. It’d be easier for me, heck, it’d be easier for everyone. I don’t understand what your friends see that’s so special, poor Jughead. I know he’s not much himself but he doesn’t need an, even more so, lowlife like you making it worse” The conversation had started about going to a dance with Jughead. Betty insisted she wear red, but her mother did not agree. The innocent conversation between mother and daughter soon spiraled into a verbal beatdown on Betty Cooper.

Alice Cooper and her daughter Betty Cooper had gotten closer after Betty solved Jason’s murder with the help of her friends, also her mother coming clean about her unborn son had opened a new sentimental side of their relationship. But when Reggie, Trev, and Chuck had started false rumors about Betty getting pregnant with Jughead’s child just like Polly, Mama Cooper spiraled into madness yet again, constantly degrading, yelling, even hitting her daughter. Before Betty had shut him out, Jughead always found a new bruise or red mark whenever he would visit at night and she was in her pajamas. Betty hadn’t seen Jughead or any of her friends since last Saturday and it’s Monday now. She shut her curtains that Saturday, she knew Archie would try to snoop on her or talk to her. Whenever they would come by she’d stand in the other room to hear her mother tell them she wasn’t seeing anyone. They all thought she was mad at them. She slowly maneuvered from her bed, feeling the stiffness in her legs and back as she walked to her desk to grab her phone and two picture frames. One frame held a picture of Archie, Veronica, Jughead, and her sitting in a dinner at Pop’s drinking milkshakes and laughing… Pop Tate took that on the night of the Jubilee. And the other held a delicate picture of her and Jughead at the dance. She was in her pink dress, the one her and her mother argued about and Jughead was as handsome as ever in a classic black tux and bow tie with this crown beanie on. They were smiling as the slow danced together. She missed him. God, she missed him. She turned to the phone she plucked nonchalantly off her desk and turned it on. She let it sit for a while as all of her texts rushed in from the little group chat named “The Core Four”, they had sent her a total of 268 messages all asking to call or if they could come by, asking if she was mad at them, Ronnie and Archie sent her little paragraphs about their day to keep her updated. Of course, Ronnie kept her updated on the latest gossip and videos of the River Vixen routines. They only thing Jughead would ever say was, “I love you, I miss you. Please talk to me.” He sent that about 5 times everyday. She knew he worried about her, as she did him.

She bit her lip in thought as she texted the group chat. A simple “I’m not mad at you guys, I love you guys.” she turned their group chat on do not disturb as the texts came rolling in and slipped her phone into her back pocket. She unlocked her door and popped her head out to look into the hall. Her parents were asleep, perfect. She padded downstairs to slip on her sneakers on and wrapped her arms around Jugheads sweater as she opened the door and the winter air of November was giving her chills already. Betty slammed the door shut, not caring to be quiet anymore… who really cared, right? She walked for miles without knowledge of where she was going until she came up to a clearing in the woods of a frozen pond. Sweet Water River. She took out her phone and texted Jughead, and only Jughead.

“I’m gonna go down in the same river we thought Jason did. Maybe they’ll care about me then” Betty dropped her phone in the snow and took a few steps before she heard Jughead’s ringtone. She turned on the spot and kneeled to answer it.

“What do you want Jug?” She was a bit irritated that he interrupted her train of thought.

“Betty?! What are you doing?! Where are you?! Tell me where you are and I'll come get you!” He was frantic, almost on a verge of a panic attack. He barely survived the week without her.

“Jug I told you where I was. I’m gonna go down how everyone thought Jason did. I love you Juggie.” She hung up and cut him off.

Jughead barged through the front door of his shared trailer almost knocking his father over in the process.

“Hey! Son! Whats the rush?” FP was confused as ever.

“Not enough time. Emergency. Tell you later.” He rushed out as he slammed the door to his truck and took a second to hit the steering wheel. He didn’t notice he started crying until his nose was running. He started the engine and sped off, definitely over the speed limit, but he couldn’t care less at this point.

Betty slid her way onto the middle of the ice. she stared at the solid ice for a minute or two and contemplated on what she was going to do. She slowly brought her fist up and pounded at the ice, cracking it with every hit. She sat there thinking about everything her mom made her to be. All the lies her mom filled her with. Nonetheless, she was right. Betty Cooper didn’t see herself as anything more than a nuisance, she only got in people’s way and ruined their reputation and their lives basically. Then she thought to Jughead. Poor Jughead. He deserved someone that wasn’t this problematic, someone simple. She hit it to the point if you stood on it, it would completely bottom out and drop you in the ice cold current. She stood up, and something caught her attention. A red flannel wearing, beanie-capped boy with a flashlight. Jughead.

“Betty, come to the shore. Come to me Betty, please.” He pleaded with the girl trying to reason with her.

“Juggie, I can’t.” Betty was a crying mess by now. Tripping over her words, jumbling them together.

“Why.” He took a step towards her. Just one.

“Don’t even think about coming over here Jughead Jones, it's too dangerous.” She worried for him.

“I know it’s dangerous. That’s why I’m trying to get you to come to me, Betty, you can’t do this to me. I love you,” He slipped off his beanie, signifying his seriousness, “I love you, Elizabeth Cooper. Please don’t do this. You mean the world to me, not only me but Polly, and Veronica, and Archie, and Kevin, and Ethel, I can go on and on about how much you are loved. Betty do not give up. You can come with me, and I will protect you. I will protect you with everything I have. Betty. I love you, I love you, I love you. I cannot stress it enough.” He’s crying now, even more, if possible. But Betty doesn’t notice him taking a step with each sentence.

“Jug. I don’t deserve someone that loves me like you do. I’m a monster. You shouldn’t love a monster. This darkness inside of me is gonna get you too and I can’t let that happen. You deserve someone simple. Someone like Ethel.” Ethel had recently developed feelings for Jughead after he published an article in the Blue and Gold about her achievements. His face scrunched at the thought of having anyone else but Betty. The stood there for what felt like seconds as the ice was cracking under her feet. He took in her messy hair, her makeupless face. He noticed the S sweater he’s been missing for months now, internally he smiled at her forgetting the position they were in. He slowly reached out his hand to her. But before she even thinks about grabbing it. Before she could decide which side to choose, the ice consumed her. Jughead screamed as she just plummeted into the water, vanishing like she was never there. But then his adrenaline kicked in. That was his girl, and this is not gonna be her ending. He dropped to the floor and swept what little snow lay on the ice. He found her drifting with the ice cold current. She was screaming, she was pale already on the brink of turning purple. After what seemed like minutes her drifting stalled and she sat there pounding on the ice, she was running out of air and would definitely suffocate soon if Jughead didn’t do anything. Jughead knelt down right above where she was and started punching the ice full force. he was yelling and crying. He was doing anything he could to get his girl back.

His hands were coated in fresh cherry red blood. Finally, the ice started to break away, he created a hole barely big enough for her to fit, but it was enough for him. He reached his whole arm in to grab her by the wrist and pull her out. Her face was purple, her skin was cold, she wasn’t breathing. Jughead did the only thing he could think of. He quickly places his hands together on her chest and started pushing. He paused for only a moment to plug her nose and try to get her breathing again.

“You can’t do this to me. Elizabeth Cooper! I won’t let you! I’ll die before I let you do this to me!” He yelled at her. He hadn’t stopped crying since he got her call. That was his baby. That was his girl. She looked like an empty shell. Nonetheless, he didn’t stall his attempt to bring her back to life. After 5 minutes she gasped for the cold air. It felt good in her lungs. She held her hands to her head, completely unaware to Jughead sitting next to her until he squishes her into his arms and cries into her hair. Their sitting on the ice, both cold but Betty more so, shivering, crying, hugging. Jughead spreads little kisses all over her face as he worriedly scolds her.

“Betty what is wrong with you?! Don’t you ever do that shit to me ever again! I was so worried! Betty what the hell?! I love you!” He holds her head in between his hands and makes sure she understands him perfectly well. She’s shivering so he takes her (his) sweater and wraps her in her flannel and puts his beanie on her head and picks her up and runs to his truck. Once finally in the car, he cranks up the heater to make an effort to help as much as he can. Half way home he can see she’s still shivering. He unclips her seatbelt and pulls her over to his side and wraps his arm around her. She smiles to herself, despite what they had been through not only fifteen minutes ago, she felt at peace. She always felt at peace with him. He always will be there for her. With the knowledge of affection from him, she feels a great wave of remorse push through her.

“Jug” Only a whisper coming out.

“Yes, Betty?” He looked at her for a moment before training his eyes on the road.

“I’m sorry, I just… I thought you’d be better without me. I don’t do much good to anyone and I-“ she was quickly interrupted.

“Betty. Stop. You deserve me as much as I deserve you. Maybe it’s me that doesn’t deserve you, but how could you say you don’t do much good to anyone? You have changed my Betty Cooper. You have made me believe in love. I will only ever want you. Screw your mother, screw your father. You are such a beautiful human being inside and out that I’m beginning to think you’re not even human, more like a damn goddess Elizabeth Cooper. I love you so much. If I let you just do what you did and die, I would never forgive myself. I will protect you from anything and everything; whether it be your mom, or the rumors that the brain dead jocks like to spread about you, or even you. I will protect you, I promise. I love you, Elizabeth Cooper.” He finishes his little speech with a reassuring kiss on her forehead. He smiles as she rests her sopping wet hair on his lap and gently falls asleep.

“I won’t let anything or anyone her you” He whispers to her sleeping form.

Jughead carries his half asleep girlfriends into his trailer. His dad sitting on the couch jumps up at the sound of the door opening.

“What the hell! Forsythe Pendleton Jones! You had me worried sick!” His father completely ignores the sleeping girl in his arms until Jughead shushes him. Jughead carries Betty into his room. Gently he rubs her shoulder only to wake her enough to throw her some of his pajama bottoms. She nods a little thank you when he smiles at her and kisses her temple. He gives her some privacy to change and peacefully be with herself while he talks to his dad.

“Jughead. What happened?” He pulls his shoulder to guide him to the small circle dining table.

“She tried to kill herself, dad. The love of my life tried to end hers.” Jughead said more to himself, almost like it hasn’t sunk in yet.

“Do you know why?” He knew he was pushing his boundaries but FP cared about Betty, she was like his daughter in law already, of course, he wanted her to be safe.

“Not entirely, I know it has to deal with her mom, rumors the jocks made up, and me. Dad. She doesn’t think she deserves me. Well, she didn’t think she did, we talked in the car and that part is solved.” Jughead doesn’t want to cry anymore, but thinking about what Betty wanted to do terrified him.

“Jughead. I know Mama Cooper is the hardest on Betty. I know how vicious she can get. If Betty would like, she can stay here for as long as she’d like, or for as long as she needs. I know you’ll protect her Jug. You love her, I know you do.” Jughead nodded in agreement with that he thanked his father and went to go ask Betty what she thought. He knocked on the door, he heard no reply, the silence scared him. He opened the door and the window was open. Wide open. “Shitty Betty!” He ran to the window looking out of it, looking for his blonde.

“What Jug?” She asked him hearing his exasperation from inside the attached bathroom.

“You really think I’d try to leave?” She wore a small smile on her face following a slight chuckle.

“Sorry, you didn’t answer to my knock and when I came in the window was wide open. Jesus Betty, why is the window open? It’s November, it’s practically on the brink of snowing.” He walked to her embracing her.

Lifting her head up she took his face in her hands, “It feels good. What was so urgent Jug?”

“Dad said you’re more than welcome to stay here until you feel better. But if you don’t want to and you insist on going home that’s fine too. I just want you to be safe and I want you to be hap-“ He took her hands away from his face and held them in his own.

“Jughead, would it really be okay for me to stay? I don’t feel safe at home anymore.”

Beaming at her he couldn’t contain his happiness, “Betty, like I said more than welcome.”

#bughead #bughead fandom #bughead fanfiction #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale season two #riverdale #riverdale bughead #lili reinhart #cole sprouse #lilicole #sprousehart #fanfiction #fanfic

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bleating-heart · 5 years

Text

“You deserve to let yourself live.”

There’s a rock in the pit of his stomach.

It’s not a bad feeling, he wouldn’t say. Just a feeling. Something heavy that sits in him as he stews in the darkness of his room. The rainy season has just rolled into the southern parts of the Khanlands, and they were lucky to finish up in Long Zhong and be back with the rest of their traveling party in Nitan before the storm rolled in.

Was it the rain that was making him feel like he would rather abandon everything he’s worked for and take off for Sabu Salem? Nah, that would be stupid...

But it would be a more valid excuse than what his problem really was.

Hae-Seong sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. He’s an adult and a War Cleric of the God of Death, Osmar. He can’t let something like “what if he would’ve actually died, would Agatha and Keyon have died as well?”

It shouldn’t be something for him to concern himself with. It is the very nature of mortals to die and pass to the God they devoted their life to, pass to Osmar, or to meet the archfiend in which to meet their punishment. It’s how things are, how things are meant to be, WHAT HE SIGNED UP FOR IN THE FIRST PLAC--

He shook his head; not now. Not again. He won’t let himself go down that mental road again. His wife is dead and gone, and faeries don’t pass beyond the veil. As being of magic, they just return to magic. Again, it is just the nature of things. It’s how things have always, and will always work.

Just like it is in Agatha's nature to rush headlong into danger for the sake of her friends or the people she believes are worth saving... Like it is the nature of things for Keyon to work in tandem with his Patron to fight for what he believes in right.

Like it is in his own nature to protect the living until they meet their maker and he himself will lay them to rest.

But what if he isn’t strong enough for that day? What if he dies and leaves them to die? would that have been selfish? would that have been cowardly? What if they do die, and he can’t bear to see them breathe their last? What if he can’t save them?

What if he... can’t... save them...?

The rain is pouring now, he can hear it echoing through his room as the late night lights dance wildly in the wind created by the deluge. Hae-Seong stand from his futon and walks to the paper screen dividing his room from the outside world, sliding it open to see just how heavily the rain is falling. He steps outside under the awning and leans against the wall behind him and sighs quietly. At least something can express their emotions...

He almost didn’t hear the door to his room sliding open. Almost.

He turned to poke his head back through the door, his gaze met with the visage of a small, dark skinned woman with yellow blonde hair. What was Fizz doing in here this time of night...?

“Fizz. What a wonderful surprise.” Hae-Seong mused, doing his best to give her a gentle smile. The woman rolled her eyes at him. Of course, she knew better.

“Yeah yeah... It’s not really often I come knocking, is it?” Fizz responded, sliding the door closed behind her as she takes a few more tentative steps into the room. She never considered herself the right person for emotional support. Fuck, if she was being honest, she’d rather just let things sort themselves out.

However, six months is a long time, and things happen slowly and quietly, even without her realizing it. She began quietly worrying if she would see the trio again when they left for death defying missions, though she never worried much. After what happened in the Veil in bright Autumn, she knows exactly what they’re capable of. Still... something still gnaws at her from time to time, and it’s not the Kobolds wanting a jerky snack.

“What brings you around so late in the evening, friend?” Hae-Seong asks, motioning for the fae to join him outside. She complies, wandering past the barrier of the paper divider and leaning on the wall beside him, shoulder to... well, elbow basically. She tried to think of how to approach this without it coming off as too harsh, but she knows nothing ever really gets done unless it’s actually addressed. Ask for forgiveness, not permission and all that.

“Well... You’re being more of a recluse than usual ever since you came back from Long Zhong. Did... something happen?”

And there it was. ‘Did something happen?’ Hae-Seong thinks, stalling out at the question. ti’s quiet for a few beats before a very quiet, dry laugh passes through his lips. Fizz furrows her brow and frowns, not really knowing what to do with this reaction. Was she wrong? Was he just being his normal reclusive self? Is she really becoming that soft? What in the fresh fu--

“I saw the face of Osmar as he beckoned me home... Agatha pulled me back before I passed over the Event Horizon of a final death. I supposed you could say that was something that ‘happened’.”

Oh. Well that wasn’t the answer she was expecting.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit.” Hae-Seong chuckled as she raised an eyebrow at his parroting of her swear.

“What happened? How did you, of all people, get so close to legitimately dying??”

Hae-Seong paused a moment, quietly replaying that moment, trying to find the right words to describe it.

“Look, Hae-Seong, you don’t have to--”

“Shang-Kai had turned into a dragon and killed Zhu Zhu. Kai, before he insisted on being Agatha’s mount, had just blown the doors off of the temple in anger before we geared up. He began to usher the monks back inside while we fought Shang Kai.”

Fizz nodded along as he explained every detail of what he saw of the battle. Agatha flying through the air, shaking the Earth with thunderous claps from Spark, Keyon invoking dark curses to keep himself strong and Shang Kai pinned, the acid beams, the teeth, the claws...

“And then it was me. In a last ditch effort to make sure I lived long enough to ensure Agatha and Keyon’s victories, I cast an enfeeblement spell that hit Shang Kai hard. The next thing I remember was opening my eyes to teeth and jowls closing around me. It went dark after that... I remember floating, panicking, trying to find my way back. I saw Osmar, holding a hand out to me, offering me my well-earned early retirement. I was drifting... I forgot all about Agatha, Keyon, and the Khan... I wanted to rest.”

“Then, I opened my eyes again, dowsed in rancid cranberry juice, and very much alive. Agathan and Keyon were bloodied and beaten, well, to shit, but very much alive in front of me. Sheng Kai was dead, and I had been brought back from the brink. Ever since we returned home, I haven’t stopped thinking about what would’ve happened to everyone if I had died. If I had failed and left them... If I couldn’t see my friends ever again because of a wrong calculation...”

Fizz let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding and shivered. That... that was too much. That was way too much. Now she was very thankful all she had to do was play babysitter to a triplet of kobolds.

“Well,” she started, finally saying something after what felt like years of silence, “You’re here. Isn’t that the important part...? You didn’t die and leave anyone behind?”

“Well, certainly, but--”

“But nothing,” she interrupts, causing him to fully open his eyes as she spoke to him, surprised, “If you dwell on the ifs and the ands and the buts, then you might as well have died, you know?”

She moves to stand in front of him, making sure to look him dead in the eye.

“You stew and rot and boil in negativity. You bring that with you until it poisons the people around you, Hae-Seong. You kept Keyon and agatha alive, you weakened Sheng Kai so he couldn’t hurt your friends nearly as much, and you made a huge move to DO that, y’know?”

He’s silent, not knowing how to follow that up. Taking his silence as encouragement, Fizz continues.

“Sure, if Keyon wouldn’t have dumped that potion on you, you would’ve died. That is the reality of things. But guess what? He DID, and you ARE ALIVE. You don’t need to make yourself miserable... You deserve to let yourself live.” Fizz concludes, reaching out to take Hae-Seong’s hand in her own. He’s silent for a long while afterwards, letting the pouring rain fill up the space around them. She was right, and he absolutely knew she was. He would let the same negativity consume him that consumed him all those years ago. Fall into the same routine, fall into the same hole, into the same spiral.

And so he spoke.

“Thank you, Fizz.”

Fizz nods, allowing the unsaid to fall away to mutual understanding. Then, a shift.

“Are you still learning primordial?” Hae-Seong asks, still keeping his gentle grip on her hand. She puffs in pride and smirks, placing her free hand on her hip.

“More like mastering with the progress I’m making!”

Hae-Seong chuckles and nods. Of course. How could he ever believe otherwise?

“Then you’ll have no trouble translating, will you?”

Oh no.

He leans over and speaks.

“Neo aleumdabda, Fizz. Gamsahabnida.”

Fizz knits her brows together and searches through her limited grasp on the ancient language to pick out anything she could recognize.

“I’m....????”

A full, genuine laugh rang out almost musically from the dragonborn at her viable confusion. Fizz snatched her hand back from the taller man and folded her arms under her small chest, scowling.

“Alright wise guy! What does that mean, if you insist on calling me something!”

Hae-Seong gently raises his hands, softly cupping her face.

“It means,” he starts, leaning until his forehead is gently resting against her’s, “You’re beautiful, Fizz. Thank you for this.”

She colors considerably, though she lets her face relax. Just a bit though! She’s still mad he was practically making fun of her!

Her hands reach up and rest softly on top of the larger hands on her cheeks. Maybe even letting him have just the hint of a genuine smile herself.

“Yeah, yeah... You’re welcome, I guess, Hae-Seong.”

#fizz the faerie #hae-seong the grim #cherry bombs tag #agatha the undying #keyon the keeper #khanate campaign #baph's babes #guest babes #dungeons and dragons #d&d

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