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peachesofteal · 8 months

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Prologue: The Moirai

An Ichor Veil (of Flower Kings) masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 1.5k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: modern setting retelling of Hades and Persephone A strange dream, a strange visit.

For months, you’ve had the same dream.

You’re wandering a valley, your valley, a lush, green collection of rolling peaks, sweet grass and clover nearly velvet beneath your bare feet. The sun, high in the sky, does not moisten your brow, or cause you distress. You do not thirst. You do not tire.

You only meander, feeding the earth snippets of power, growing flowers and vines, a plethora of life, amusing yourself, as you do every night.

You roam this meadow, until your eyes open at dawn, bullfrogs and crickets and the raw chirp of birds tapping against the windowpane, brightening you to the morning better than any alarm clock ever could.

But tonight, the dream is different.

You’ve never seen so much Narcissus. It paints an idyllic picture, bright petals sparkling far and wide, blanketing the hills until they swoop low in the soft belly of the dream. They draw you in, pulling you down until you’re seated amongst a mass of blooms, Asphodelus scattered throughout, honeysuckle vine curling through the grasses, more fragrant than sea spray, filling the air with an intoxicating sweetness that you can taste, crystal like dew dripping with jasmine and vanilla.

It's beautiful.

A creek babbles nearby, crooning in its own language, rushing trickle drowning out your thoughts and feelings, twisting and tugging until it’s hard to remember you’re in a dream at all.

Is this not your meadow?

Is this not your own?

The Asphodelus shivers, rocking back and forth in a cool wind, the kind that chills your skin, whips around your shoulders and tousles the thin fabric of your shirt.

“Hello.” The greeting startles you, twists your torso in the waist deep flora. Rise. Instinct booms, like your mother’s chide ringing a shrill bell for you to obey.

A figure stands in the meadow behind you, tall beside the sun, rays of golden light casting long shadow across their features. You squint, but it’s of no use. You cannot make them out.

“Hello.” You mirror, palms forward, heels digging into the grass. There’s a sharp prick, a sting that bleeds, and you curse, lifting your hand for inspection. “Acantha.” You hiss at the goddess, as if she has anything to do with your dreams.

Gold runs from the wound like the creek, slicking your palm, coating your skin in ichor, your own lifeblood.

The lifeblood of the Golden ones.

Lest you forget.

The figure kneels in the grass before you, their head bowed, black gloved hands reaching, tugging your palm upwards, dragging a thumb through the mess of ethereal life.

“I’m fine, just a prick.” You assure in the silence. There is so much light, and yet none, nothing to illuminate the face or the features of whomever it is that occupies your dream.

A fragment of your mind, perhaps. A trick of your mother’s.

Or an interloper.

“You’re hurt.” The dark pitch of the figure’s voice is startling. It’s fathomless, beautiful like the coast of the Aegean, guttural like the shout of death. Raw ruby, not quite plucked from its sanctuary, not quite finished or ready to be seen, a secret gem, only for you. The meadow rustles, thousands of faces in the little flowers leering, scowling, blue sky dimming into grey. Thunder shatters the tranquility, clapping in the distance, a garish boom sending electric shocks through the clouds, all manner of rumbles rolling over the hill.

Rot. It fills your soul in a flood, current wrapping around your ankles and tugging, like a thousand Oceanids lay at your feet, crying. Screaming.

But your hand is warm. Your hand is warm and it is held, for a moment, a moment in which you feel dramatically unlike yourself, unlike the fledging goddess you claim to be, unlike the unloved one you’re known as, and then-

it is cold. Your hand. Your heart. You. The being, the figure, is gone.

And you are alone.

The Greenhouse is quiet. An easy peace, so easily disturbed by comings and goings, friends and patrons, all manner of beings and others, stopping in and out.

They say hello. They ask for help, advice, favor. Some things you cannot give, even to some visitors who you hold close. Dearly.

These moments alone, moments of solitude in the Greenhouse, and some that you love the most. Moments when you're alone with yourself, your power, your connection to the earth. When you can feel it the most, the worms in the dirt, the roots desperate for water, the blooms aching to flourish. You are all these things, when you're alone. A power unto yourself. A goddess of life, of fertility, of Spring. The essential reawakening. The circle of seasons.

The secret weighs heavily.

But a goddess of Spring, is no mere goddess of Spring, your mother's voice echoes. A goddess of life, may as well wear a target on her back.

This morning, when the dew still refracts the light of the sun and birds are singing, no one comes. You sit alone, pruning, detangling, taming a pothos, encouraging its lovely green vine to live on its own. It protests, and you huff at it, conjuring slivers of magic, feeding it kernels as if you care for a child, trying to encourage it to eat.

“You must try, you know.” It curls around the back of your hand, lovely silver-white speckled leaves shimmering in the morning’s light. “You’re not staying here. The Greenhouse is full. I don’t have any more room.” The overcrowded shelves and carts agree, saplings and ivy and atropa belladonna all singing in unison, quivering voices rising in protest of the pothos’ weak effort. “See? You’ll make everyone unhappy.”

“You have a habit of talking to all your plants?” A musical voice chimes from the front door, and you jump from the stool, a book on your right clattering to the concrete.

“No, I…” Your voice fails, the woman in the doorway steps closer, allowing her mortal appearance to fall away, removing her Cloak and revealing her true identity.

The Moirai.

The Three who are One.

She turns her head to the east, a flash of the Maiden surveying your workbench, and then the Crone shines through, all faces eventually melding into one.

The Mother.

“Daughter of Demeter.” She inclines her head in greeting, and you blink rapidly.

“You...” What are they… is she, doing here? “You shouldn’t be here.” You swallow the fear that races in a cold rush under your skin. A frozen river runs in your bones, frigid rapids roaring, trapped beneath a thin sheet of ice, churning your power into a weapon of terror, an uncontrollable force that tries to build beneath the swell.

“Your mother is preoccupied.” She waves her hand; unease props the hair up on the back of your neck.

“What do you want?”

“To see you.” She strolls, careful, casual steps echoing off glass. “Finally, in the flesh.” The sh sound hisses, and your power pulses, pushing forward in preparation. “You are truly as lovely as they say, little Spring Goddess.”

“I’m not the Goddess of Spring.” You rebuke, and the resounding chuckle is dry wine, a tatter of bubbles that on her tongue that sours your stomach.

“You are not.” She nods. “No. You’re so much more now. You will be.” She steps closer, red lips perfectly lined and plump, pursed as she stares you down. “I’m satisfied.” She murmurs, and even though she looks right at you, it’s as if you’re not in the room.

Rain drops patter on glass panels.

“Pity.” She frowns, and then winks as a young woman, as an old one too, vanishing from sight with each step she takes to the door.

The clock ticks too loudly, and it feels like doom. Like a shattered mirror, shattered reflection, shattered life.

The Moirai have never visited you.

Why now?

Outside, a screech owl hoots, startling you backwards, a hand rocking down to the work bench in an effort to steady your trembling legs.

“Ouch!” you shriek, flipping your palm over, a pair of pruning shears dug into your skin, golden blood leaking out around their cool metallic points. “Fuck.” Your lips cover the puncture, tongue flicking against the rivulet of ichor.

The screech owl screams.

The throne room is silent. Darkness ebbs, inky webs slithering across the floor, shadowing the blood red stone that spills from the mouth of the dais, two identical, straight back chairs sitting proudly in the middle of the hall, dwarfed by columns stretching so tall Johnny swears they surpass the boundary of this realm. Their onyx marble shrouds Simon, who stands maskless, his hands clasped behind his back, peering into the pitch-black pool of liquid vibrating inside a silver bowl.

“Who is she?” There is a woman in the seeing glass. Beautiful, bright, an overflowing bouquet of narcissus, an endless melody of spring, the promise of early death. The greenhouse breathes in her presence, all nature of blooms and blossoms straining closer, desperate to be within fingertips reach. “A goddess?” He looks closer, and Simon’s amber laden eyes affix his, broad palm tenderly cupping Johnny’s cheek. His answer is a whisper, something unearthly and severe as they are: two Kings of the Underworld, two souls twisted together, two macabre fates made one. His words are a looming promise, a vow so ruinous Johnny knows the Moirai howl and the Lethe trembles.

“Our wife.”

#peaches writes #AIV(OFK)#ghoap x reader #hades ghoap #persephone reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghost x soap x reader #Simon Riley #john soap mactavish

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brookghaib-blog · 3 months

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Whispers of the past pt.5

Pairing : Hoshina Soshiro x reader

Summary: 10 years ago, Y/N went missing after being attacked by a kaiju, now working by Gen Narumi's side as his secret weapon, she hides herself in hopes that one day she reconnects with her first love, Hoshina Soshiro.

an: for a note, the timeline for this would be like days close to the practical exam for the thrid division. I never really gave you a timeline, so my bad, there you go :)

pt.4 - pt.6

Chisuka's pov:

After Captain Narumi left my apartment, my emotions were a tangled mess. The almost-kiss left me shaken and confused, and I needed to clear my head. I decided to walk to the convenience store, hoping the night air would help.

The night was cool, a slight breeze rustling the leaves of the trees lining the quiet streets. The occasional distant sound of a car or the murmur of voices drifted through the air. The lights of the convenience store shone like a beacon, offering a brief escape from the whirlwind of my thoughts.

As I wandered the aisles, picking up a few essentials, I tried to focus on the mundane task at hand. The routine helped to ground me, but I couldn’t shake the lingering unease from earlier. After paying for my items, I stepped outside, the night air feeling refreshing against my skin.

I started my walk back home, the streets even quieter than before. The soft hum of the city was barely audible, a soothing background noise. But as I walked, a strange sensation began to creep over me. My kaiju senses, always heightened, were picking up something unusual. I scanned the area, my eyes darting from shadow to shadow, but everything seemed normal at first glance.

Just as I turned down a quieter street, I saw him. A man stood under the dim light of a streetlamp, his back to me. He was dressed in a nondescript suit, his posture relaxed. At first, he seemed like any other late-night wanderer, but something about him set off alarm bells in my mind. My kaiju instincts screamed that he wasn’t what he appeared to be.

I slowed my pace, my heart pounding in my chest. As I drew closer, the man turned slightly, just enough for me to catch a glimpse of his eyes. They glinted with an unnatural light, a predator’s gleam.

"Good evening," he said, his voice smooth and cold. "Out for a late-night stroll?"

I stopped, keeping my distance. "Just heading home," I replied cautiously, my muscles tensing in readiness.

The man smiled, a predatory grin that sent shivers down my spine. "You shouldn’t be out alone at this hour. It’s not safe."

In a flash, his form shifted, his human facade melting away to reveal his true nature. He was a kaiju, a humanoid one, his body radiating with a sinister energy.

My heart skipped a beat. This was no ordinary kaiju. He was intelligent, cunning, and far more dangerous than any I had encountered before.

"You're one of them, aren’t you?" he said, his voice dripping with malice. "A human turned kaiju. How… interesting."

Before I could respond, he lunged at me, his claws slashing through the air. I barely had time to react, transforming into my kaiju form to block his attack. Our claws met with a resounding clash, the force of the impact sending shockwaves through the ground.

The street erupted into chaos as we fought, our massive forms tearing through the concrete and asphalt. I struck out with my claws, aiming for his vital points, but he was fast, dodging and countering with precision.

"You can’t hide what you are," he taunted, his eyes glowing with malevolence. "I'll take your body for myself."

His words fueled my anger, giving me strength. I roared, pushing him back with a powerful strike. He stumbled but quickly regained his footing, a cruel smile on his lips.

"You think you can beat me?" he sneered. "You’re just a failed experiment."

I growled, my claws slicing through the air as I launched myself at him. We clashed again, the force of our blows shaking the buildings around us. I could feel his strength, his power, and I knew this fight wouldn’t be easy.

But I wasn’t alone. I had the skills, the training, and the determination to protect those I cared about. And I wouldn’t let this monster win.

Our battle raged on, the street becoming a war zone. I managed to land a few solid hits, but Kaiju No. 9 was relentless. He fought with a savage fury, each strike more vicious than the last.

Suddenly, he lunged forward, his claws aiming for my throat. I twisted to avoid the blow, but he was too fast. His claws grazed my neck, a searing pain shooting through me. I stumbled back, trying to regain my balance.

"Is that all you’ve got?" he jeered, advancing on me.

I snarled, refusing to back down. Summoning all my strength, I launched myself at him, my claws aiming for his heart. He dodged, but I managed to land a solid hit on his shoulder, sending him crashing into a nearby wall.

He roared in pain, his eyes blazing with fury. "You’ll pay for that," he hissed, his voice a venomous promise.

But before he could retaliate, the distant sound of sirens filled the air. The Defense Force was on their way. The third division. If they saw me like this, they’d capture me for sure. And this other kaiju—whatever he was—would be taken too.

With a final, powerful strike, I sent the figure sprawling. He scrambled to his feet, a look of panic in his eyes. "I have to go," he said, more to himself than to me. Before I could react, he turned and ran, disappearing into the shadows.

I hesitated, torn between pursuing him and escaping before the Defense Force arrived. In the end, survival won out. I turned and fled, my kaiju form melting away as I ran. By the time the third division arrived, I was long gone, just another shadow in the night.

Breathing heavily, I finally stopped in a secluded alleyway, leaning against the cool brick wall to catch my breath. My mind raced with questions. Who was that figure? What was he? And why did he seem so human?

As the adrenaline began to fade, exhaustion set in. I knew I had to get back to my apartment, but the events of the night weighed heavily on me. I had fought to protect the innocent, but in the process, I had encountered something—or someone—new. Someone who didn’t fit into the neat categories of human or kaiju.

I finally reached my apartment, slipping inside and locking the door behind me. The small space felt even smaller after the events of the night, the walls closing in around me. I sank onto the couch, my mind still racing.

I had so many questions and no answers. But one thing was clear: the world was far more complicated than I had ever imagined. And in this new, uncertain landscape, I would have to navigate carefully, relying on my instincts and my newfound allies.

As I sat there, my thoughts drifting back to the strange figure I had fought, I couldn’t shake the feeling that our paths would cross again. And when they did, I would be ready.

The next morning, I awoke to the sunlight streaming through the curtains. The events of the previous night felt like a distant dream, but the lingering soreness in my muscles was a stark reminder of the battle I had fought.

I made my way to the kitchen, the familiar routine of making coffee grounding me. As I sipped the hot drink, I replayed the encounter in my mind, trying to make sense of it. Who was that figure? What was his connection to the kaiju? And why did he seem so conflicted?

I made my way to the First Division base. The streets were still quiet, the city slowly waking up around me. The events of the previous night weighed heavily on my mind, and I knew I needed to talk to Captain Narumi about what had happened.

When I arrived at the base, I was greeted by the familiar sight of the bustling headquarters. Soldiers and staff moved with purpose, preparing for another day of battling kaiju threats. I made my way through the corridors, nodding to a few familiar faces, until I reached Captain Narumi's office.

I knocked on the door, and a moment later, it opened to reveal Narumi's sharp, observant eyes. He took one look at me and seemed to sense the urgency of my visit.

"Chisuka," he said, stepping aside to let me in. "Come in."

I entered the office, feeling the weight of his gaze on me. Narumi closed the door behind us and motioned for me to sit. I took a seat, my thoughts racing as I tried to find the right words to explain what had happened.

"Captain," I began, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "I need to tell you about something that happened last night."

Narumi leaned forward, his expression serious. "Go on."

I took a deep breath and began recounting the events of the night before. "After you left my apartment, I went to the convenience store to clear my head. On my way back, I encountered a man… or at least, he appeared to be a man. But my kaiju senses told me otherwise."

Narumi's eyes narrowed slightly. "A kaiju in human form?"

I nodded. "Yes. He revealed himself to be a Kaiju. He was disguise as a human, if not for my senses I wouldn't have suspected. He attacked me, claiming he wanted my body for himself, I think he wanted to use it for disguise, although he didn't seem to know who I was, but he knew what I was."

Narumi's expression darkened, his eyes reflecting a mix of concern and anger. "An humanoid kaiju… we've heard rumors about him, but this is the first confirmed encounter. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I replied, though the memory of the fight still sent shivers down my spine. "We fought, and it was a close call. The Defence Force was on their way, so he fled before they arrived. But he knew what I was, Captain. He knew I was a human turned kaiju."

Narumi leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant as he processed the information. "This changes things," he said finally. "This kaiju seems like a serious threat, and the fact that he can take on human form… it complicates matters."

I nodded, feeling a sense of relief that he understood the gravity of the situation. "I wanted to tell you as soon as possible. We need to be prepared for whatever he might do next."

Narumi's eyes met mine, a steely determination in his gaze. "We'll take this to the higher-ups. They need to know about this kaiju and his abilities. And we'll increase our patrols and surveillance to ensure he doesn't catch us off guard again."

I felt a surge of gratitude for Narumi's support and quick action. Despite the confusion and fear from the previous night, I knew I could count on him.

"Thank you, Captain," I said sincerely. "I appreciate your support."

Narumi nodded, a rare softness in his expression. "We're in this together, Chisuka. We'll do whatever it takes to protect you and our people."

As I left his office, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. This threat of was real and immediate, but I wasn't alone in facing it. With Narumi and the First Division by my side, I knew we had a fighting chance.

"failed experiment". What did he mean by that.. could it be... there's another human like me?

Later that day, I found myself in the training area, needing to blow off some steam. The encounter with the humanoid kaiju had left me on edge, and I needed to channel my energy into something productive.

I went through a series of combat drills, pushing my body to its limits. The physical exertion helped clear my mind, each punch and kick a release of the tension that had been building inside me. As I trained, I couldn't help but think about the implications of what had happened. This was a new kind of enemy, one that could blend in with humans and strike without warning. It was a sobering thought, but also one that fueled my determination.

As I finished my session, I noticed Captain Narumi watching from the edge of the training area. He approached, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Good work, Chisuka," he said, nodding in approval. "Your skills are improving."

"Thank you, Captain," I replied, wiping the sweat from my brow. "I needed to clear my head after last night."

He nodded, understanding. "I wanted to let you know that I've informed the higher-ups about the kaiju you reported. They're taking the threat seriously, and we'll be increasing our patrols and surveillance."

I felt a sense of relief at his words. "That's good to hear. We can't afford to let our guard down."

Narumi's gaze softened slightly. "I also wanted to check on you. I know last night was intense, and I wanted to make sure you're okay."

I appreciated his concern, but I knew I had to stay strong. "I'm fine, Captain. Just more determined than ever to protect our people."

He nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. "That's the spirit. We'll face whatever comes our way, together."

As he walked away, I couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of hope. The fight against the kaiju was far from over, but with allies like Captain Narumi by my side, I knew we had a chance.

Third person pov:

The news of the kaiju’s ability to disguise itself as a human sent ripples through the Defense Force. It was a game-changer, a revelation that required immediate action. Captain Gen Narumi decided to call a meeting with the leaders of all divisions to discuss the implications and formulate a strategy. This was a threat that affected everyone, and unity was more critical than ever.

The meeting was scheduled for the following morning, and the conference room buzzed with tension and anticipation as the division captains filed in. The room was large, equipped with state-of-the-art technology, screens displaying real-time data from various sectors, and a large oval table where the leaders now gathered.

Narumi stood at the head of the table, his expression as stern as ever. He waited until everyone was seated before starting the meeting.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," Narumi began, his voice steady and authoritative. "We have a situation that requires immediate attention. Last night, one of our operatives, Chisuka, encountered a kaiju. A different kind. This kaiju has the ability to disguise itself as a human."

A murmur of shock and concern swept through the room. Mina Ashiro, Captain of the Third Division, leaned forward, her eyes sharp. "A kaiju that can mimic human form? That's unprecedented."

Narumi nodded. "Indeed. This changes our entire approach. We can no longer assume that kaiju threats are limited to monstrous forms. It is intelligent and dangerous. It engaged in direct combat with Chisuka and managed to escape before the Third Division arrived."

Vice-Captain Soshiro Hoshina, sitting beside Mina, clenched his fists. "We need to increase our vigilance. If it can blend in with humans, it could be anywhere, even within our ranks."

Narumi's expression darkened. "Exactly. That's why we need a coordinated effort from all divisions. We must enhance our surveillance and improve our detection methods. This kaiju poses a unique threat, and we cannot afford to let it slip through our fingers."

Captain Mina added, "We should also educate our personnel about this new threat. They need to be aware of the possibility and trained to identify any signs of deception."

Captain Narumi nodded in agreement. "I've already spoken to the higher-ups, and they are prioritizing the development of new detection technologies. In the meantime, we need to rely on our instincts and experience. Chisuka managed to sense the kaiju despite its human disguise. We need to tap into those skills across our divisions."

As the discussion continued, the captains brainstormed various strategies, from increased patrols and surveillance to joint training exercises. The room was filled with a sense of urgency, but also determination. They knew the stakes were high, but they were prepared to face the challenge head-on.

After a thorough discussion, Narumi concluded the meeting. "We'll reconvene in a week to assess our progress and adjust our strategies as needed. Stay vigilant and keep your teams informed. Dismissed."

The captains rose from their seats, their minds already racing with plans and strategies. As they exited the room, Narumi stayed behind, his thoughts lingering on the encounter. The threat was real, and it was closer than they had ever imagined.

Later that day, Captain Narumi found himself in his office, poring over reports and data. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily on his shoulders, but he was resolute. The Defense Force had faced many challenges before, and they had always emerged stronger. This would be no different.

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. "Come in," he called.

The door opened to reveal Chisuka, her expression a mix of determination and concern. "Captain, I wanted to update you on my findings from last night."

Narumi gestured for her to take a seat. "Go ahead."

Chisuka recounted the details of her encounter with the kaiju providing as much information as she could. Naruto listened intently, absorbing every detail.

"Your instincts were spot on," Narumi said after she finished. "We need to harness that ability. You'll be instrumental in our efforts to track and identify the kaiju."

Chisuka nodded. "I'll do whatever it takes, Captain. We can't let this kaiju go unchecked."

Narumi leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. "Agreed. We're facing a new kind of enemy, but we're not alone. With the combined efforts of all divisions, we'll find a way to stop it. And Chisuka, your role in this will be crucial."

She met his gaze, a steely resolve in her eyes. "I'm ready, Captain. Let's bring this kaiju down."

Narumi nodded, a hint of a smile breaking through his stern exterior. "Let's do it. It's time for you to be in action"

Hoshina's pov:

The morning air was crisp as Captain Mina Ashiro and I strolled through the practice camp of the First Division. The camp was alive with activity—soldiers sparring, honing their skills, and new recruits undergoing their first drills. It was a familiar scene, one that brought a sense of both nostalgia and pride.

"Have you seen the new recruits in action yet?" Mina asked, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity as she scanned the training grounds.

"Not yet," I replied, my gaze sweeping over the soldiers as we walked. "But I've heard good things. They're a promising bunch. That Kafka, he's hiding some potential, even if the suit is not matching with his body yet, his determination is something that will bring him greatness, I'm very intrigued by him."

Mina nodded, her attention momentarily drawn to a group of recruits practicing hand-to-hand combat. "We've been fortunate to attract some talented individuals. With the kaiju threat growing, we need every capable hand we can get."

As we continued our walk, discussing our latests plans for Shinomiya, the third strongest member of our team, even as a newbie that girl had an amzing strength, we may need her to give her a special spot sooner, the number of kaiju attacks have been increasing too much, it's a waste have someone like her and not put her in the right spot.

Then, I saw her.

Y/N.

She was engaged in rigorous combat training, her movements fluid and precise. She moved with a grace that spoke of years of discipline and dedication. Her face was focused, determined, a far cry from the carefree girl I had known. She wore the uniform of the First Division, blending seamlessly into the ranks of soldiers preparing for battle.

My heart skipped a beat as recognition dawned on me. It was her. Y/N L/N—the girl I had loved and lost. The girl who had disappeared without a trace, leaving behind unanswered questions and a void in my heart.

Mina noticed my distraction and followed my gaze. "What is it, Hoshina?"

I hesitated, torn between the past and the present. "Nothing," I said finally, forcing myself to tear my eyes away from Y/N. "Just thinking about the new recruits."

Mina studied me for a moment, her expression thoughtful. "You seem… preoccupied. Is everything alright?"

I nodded, a tight smile forming on my lips. "Just a lot on my mind, that's all."

As we walked away from the training area, I couldn't shake the image of her from my thoughts. Seeing her again after all these years—it stirred up emotions I had long tried to bury.

All this time she was close and I didn't know, how could this happen, what was she doing here? What is going on, does this means she dissapeared because she wanted to? How could she...No, Soshino you don't know anything.

But as much as I tried to push her from my mind, a part of me couldn't help but wonder about Y/N—about where she had been all these years, and what had brought her back into my life now.

As we continued our rounds through the camp, discussing strategies and reviewing the progress of the new recruits, I couldn't help but steal glances back towards the training grounds. She remained focused on her training, unaware of the memories and emotions she had stirred within me.

I kept my thoughts to myself, the weight of the past heavy on my shoulders.

It was a twist of fate—a thread of destiny weaving its way through our lives once more. Y/N L/N, I found you.

#hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no. 8 #hoshina x reader #soshiro hoshina #kaiju art #soshino x reader #fanfic #fics #kn8 fanfic #kn8 x reader

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lulublack90 · 2 months

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Prompt 19 - Fairytale

@wolfstarmicrofic July 19, word count 995

CW - Murder, blood

Once upon a time, there was a young man named Sirius. Sirius lived with his parents and brother. They drove him mad. One morning, his mother ordered him to take a basket of cakes and buns to his grandmother.

“Why can’t Kreacher do it?” He asked sullenly. He did not enjoy visiting his grand-mère.

“Because I told you to,” Was all that Walburga said to him before pushing him out of the house and shoving the heavily ladened basket into his hands.

He grumbled and stuck his fingers up at the house as he walked away. He decided to go the long way around to his grandmother’s house through the woods.

Sirius loved the woods. He could have skipped down the lane, but he restrained himself. If he messed up the treats in the basket, he’d never hear the end of it.

He was about halfway to his grandmother’s house when he spotted a figure in the distance. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stuck up and his entire body tensed. Something wasn’t right.

“Hello,” The man smiled when Sirius was almost to him. “Beautiful day isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” Sirius answered. He’d slowed his pace but didn’t fully stop, just kept walking past the strange man.

“Where are you going?” The man asked, moving to walk beside him.

“To my grandmother’s house,” Sirius answered, hoping the man would leave him alone if he answered his questions.

“And where does grandmother live?” The man questioned further. Sirius stopped in his tracks.

“That really isn’t any of your business, now please leave me alone,” He glared at the man, hoping he’d just leave him alone. The man dipped his head to him.

“Apologies,” He smiled unnervingly and backed into the trees. Sirius shivered, glad he was gone. Sirius put him out of his mind. He needed his wits about him to deal with his grandmother.

The house loomed before him as he cleared the trees. As he approached, he noticed the gate was open. His grandmother would never allow that. He walked through it, closing the iron gate behind him.

The front door was ajar. Alarm bells started ringing in his head. Something wasn’t right. He crept into the house.

“Grand-mère?” Normally, by this time, she’d be sitting in her wing-backed chair, squinting at her book because she refused to accept that she needed glasses.

A bang came from upstairs. “Grand-mère, I’m coming upstairs,” He called. He felt a chill creep down his spine as he climbed. He stood on the landing and called out again.

“Grand-mère?”

“In here, my dear,” A sweet voice called out. That alone was enough for Sirius to know things were not as they should be. Irma Black had never used the word dear in her life.

He pushed open her bedroom door and spotted a figure in her bed.

“Good afternoon Grand-mère, are you alright?” He asked pleasantly. Whoever was in her bed was at least twice the size of his grandmother.

“Yes, my dear, just a slight sniffle. Come closer to your old Granny,” Admitting weakness and calling herself Granny two more red flags to add to the already large collection. Against his better judgement, he neared the bed.

“My what big eyes you’ve got Granny,” He had to stop himself from sounding sarcastic.

“All the better to see you with, my dear,” Sirius realised pretty quickly that his ‘Granny’ was the stranger he’d met in the woods.

“And my, what big ears you’ve got,” He’d play the game for a bit longer before calling him out.

“All the better to hear you with, my dear,” The sweet voice was becoming gruffer.

“And my, what big teeth you’ve got,” He couldn’t help the smile that crept into his voice. His ‘Granny’ narrowed her eyes.

“All the better to eat you with!” The man growled and leapt out of bed faster than Sirius had expected. Sirius fell to the floor and rolled out of the man’s way. He jumped to his feet and ran for it.

“Help!” He screamed as he ran through the house. “Help!” The man was chasing him and was closing in. Sirius got to the bottom of the staircase and grabbed for the front door. The man flew past him and blocked the exit. He had a nasty, blood-soaked blade in his hand. Sirius didn’t stop to ask whose blood it was. He already knew.

He knew this house well and headed to what had been his grandfather’s office. It had double doors leading into the garden. “Help!” He shouted once he was in the garden, he knew the man wouldn’t let him live. He was getting tired, but the man just kept coming. “Help!” He shouted as loud as his protesting lungs could manage as the man closed in.

He ran for the tree line at the edge of the garden and blew through them. “Help!” He called again. The man was right on his heels as he ran past a leaning fir tree. He caught the flash of steel out of the corner of his eye and heard a dull thunk. He looked over his shoulder and a tall, strong woodcutter stood over the body of his pursuer.

“Are you alright?” The man asked as he pulled his axe from the body.

“Yeah,” Sirius said hoarsely. "I don't know who he is, but he wanted to kill me,"

“His name’s Fenrir Greyback. He's wanted for murder.” The woodcutter told him. “I’m Remus by the way,” He held out his hand and Sirius took it, shaking it thankfully.

“Sirius,” He told him. “Want some cake?” Sirius asked. Somehow he’d managed to hold onto the basket as he fled. Remus laughed at him.

“Yeah, sure,” He answered. “We can deal with him later,” He pointed at Greyback.

They shared the cakes and buns between them and chatted merrily for the rest of the afternoon, totally forgetting what had brought them together.

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meganwayne24 · 5 months

Text

A Ticking Clock (pt. 5)

At a time like this? Really?

Fandom: Insomniac Spider-Man Word Count: 1668 Pairing: PS5 Harry Osborn x Reader Synopsis: Peter and you have a run-in with Kraven. Harry gets jealous of your banter with Peter before you climb through the…particle accelerator?

You scurried to compose yourself and ran out of Harry’s home. You were swinging and gliding the fastest you could through all the old money apartment buildings. By the time you arrived at the cemetery, the large and bulky man had been taken down along with many others seeming to serve Kraven. You landed quietly, hoping to find Peter amidst the chaos that had come to pass. Analyzing the scene, you see the main door to the church was open.

Peaking in, you see Peter skulking around. “Here to pick up a serum order for Dr. Connors!”

You whispered loud enough for him to hear, “Spider-Man! It’s Y/-” You realized anyone could be nearby and hear your name. “Uhh spider…woman? I guess?”

“Not bad, Spider-Woman.” He chuckled.

“Shut up, it was the only thing I could come up with on short notice.” Peter swung up to the platforms above. You stayed on ground level to cover the bases.

The silence in the church was unsettling. The chandelier’s lights provoked an eerie feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t shake. The division between the cold atmosphere above and what felt like blood lust below alarmed you. Tentacles started pushing their way out from your sides the more wary you became. A thunderous voice echoed through the air of the room. No matter where you were, it felt like a monster was right behind you. “You have hunted me. This is good.” You spun around quickly with a fist ready for action, but nothing was there.

“Let’s see if you have the strength to finish what you started.” Before you could react, you looked up to see Kraven holding a knife to Peter’s throat.

“I see a man and a woman. I sense…a beast. Why don’t you set it free?” He was taunting Peter successfully. Peter’s suit sent Kraven flying across into the church bell. The ring was shrill to your ears. Your mind went blank with agony. You and Peter both screamed while hunched over in pain. Almost like a practiced, synchronized act, the two of you shot out black webs forcing the bell into the wall.

In what was likely your only chance, your thoughts synced with Peter. You knew what to do. You webbed up to the platforms, sending out another appendage to reach the serum. You landed gracefully next to Pete with the vial firmly in your grasp. “We’re just here to save our friend.”

Peter was angry. You were too focused on the adrenaline flowing through your veins to have any other thought. “We’ll finish this later.” He growled. You hadn’t heard Peter speak like that before. You both zipped out of the window, leaving shattered stained glass everywhere. A beautiful yet devastating sight.

You were now swinging through the city. “Harry, MJ we got the serum. On our way back to Emily-May.” Peter carried on the conversation with them. He reassured Harry that it went well, but he and MJ spoke privately afterwards of what really happened. The new issue of frequencies making the suit malfunction was going to make for a hell of a time.

You were gliding through the air at a distance from Peter when you got a call from Harry. His voice was tainted with concern. “Hey Y/N. I have a feeling Pete was hiding how bad it actually was out there. Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah we are. There’s a slight problem with the suit and certain frequency exposures but we’re okay. How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright for now. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too. I’ll see you soon at the lab yeah?”

“I’ll be here. See you Y/N.”

You glided for another couple minutes, swinging between the support structures of the bridge before arriving at Emily-May. The rooftop had a secret entry way that you used.

Peter jumped in first, you followed swiftly. When you got inside, Harry was reading over Dr. Connors’ file. You and Pete morphed out of your suits into black outfits. His was a button down, quarter length sleeve shirt with jeans and runners while you were in a long sleeve mid-length top and leggings with boots to match.

Harry was still deep in the files, not turning around yet. “You still got it?” You handed over the vial to him. He looked up at you, not expecting your shift in demeanour. There was a new confidence you hadn’t noticed you’d been feeling. His eyes lingered on your figure as your fingers grazed each other’s. It was impossible not to notice your curves and how the outfit complimented them well.

Snapping out of his observant state, he took the serum into his hand. “Let’s see what this thing is made of.” The three of you proceeded to correct the errors in order to form the cure. It started with eliminating the atoms blocking the lizard receptors. By doing that, its instability was discovered. The only way to fix this was…

“Particle accelerator!” In unison, the excitement flooded you all.

“I never thought you guys would be using it this soon!” You knew how exciting this was for them. You all began to run towards the railing of the wide ocean coloured balcony.

Harry’s eyes were more full of light than you’d seen in awhile. “That’d be like using a shotgun for a haircut.”

“Hell of a haircut,” Peter chimed in.

“Quite the analogy Harry…keepin it classy,”

“That’s how I roll,” He flashed a cheeky grin at you. Harry looked ecstatic to be able to use the particle accelerator. You couldn’t help but blush at the man standing before you.

You all moved quickly to the large device to finish preparing the antidote. “The techs said it needs repair, but maybe it’s okay…” Harry was going through the requirements to set up the process. You stood close to him seeing what he was typing as Peter placed the serum in the tube tray. “Okay…” He lifted the cover revealing the ominous red button, “No black holes no black holes no black holes…” Nothing but the sound of fizzling came. Harry sighed. “Pressure change popped an inner section out of alignment.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but we’d have to go inside to fix that right?” The boys looked at you attentively with a hint of admiration. “What?” you innocently remarked.

Harry looked in your eyes for a brief moment and smiled. “Uh, nothing. But yeah, that would be the only way.” You turned walking towards the entrance where Peter was standing in the suit.

“No, nope. I wanna do this, back up Spider-Boy.”

Harry tuned in to what the two of you were thinking. “Whoa- whoa whoa whoa, what are you doing?” He was protective in nature.

Peter’s new-found boldness knew no bounds. “The suit’ll protect me, right?”

“You mean me. I’m doing this. You got to go hang around wearing a tux with a tiger. My turn,”

“I wasn’t wearing the suit when I was with Dima.”

“Oh you got her name and everything. Such a gentleman-”

Harry intruded, cutting the wits short. A tinge of jealousy flared in his eyes. “Y/N, I don’t know about this-”

“Relax. I got it.” You hopped in and started crawling through the claustrophobia-inducing tunnel.

“Be a good proton Harry,”

“Huh?”

Peter flashed finger guns at him “stay positive.”

You heard Harry scoff but chuckle at the remark. You continued following the path. The lighting reminded you of the church. You had a feeling something wasn’t right.

“So, what’s the inside of a particle accelerator like?” Harry’s curiosity piqued.

“I mean it’s amazing. You guys gotta check this out sometime,”

“Peter could.” Harry sounded frustrated.

Before you could respond, you set the inner section back in its place. The accelerator lit up while making extremely loud noises. “Uhh guys?”

Peter looked to Harry for the answer. “It’s powering up! But the beam’s erratic, use the magnets to stabilize it!”

“How?!” You could hardly hear yourself think inside the machine, let alone having to focus on what to do.

“Just find the sweet spot.”

“Particle accelerators do NOT have sweet spots!” You shot tentacles out at the magnets in order to fix it. “Great, done. Right?”

“There’s one more set of magnets ahead!”

You rolled your eyes. “You can’t be serious!”

“If you can’t stabilize the beam, it’ll destroy the serum!”

“Fantastic. You know if this wasn’t stressful before, it sure as hell is now!”

“You got this Y/N.” Peter was trying to be encouraging. Harry was gritting his teeth.

“This better not ruin the tap on my debit card.” You fixed the final one. You kept crawling through until electrical charges started coming at you. “Hey! What the hell is this?”

“The particle accelerator is up and running. Just avoid them and come out.” Harry’s voice was stern. Not as lighthearted as before. Normally there was a sense of comfort in it, like coming home after a long day, but not now.

You got to the end and knocked on the door. You carefully placed yourself back on the ground and morphed back into your outfit. Despite Harry’s attitude, he still couldn’t take his eyes off you. You hunched over out of breath. “Yeah you know next time any crawling in tiny spaces with electricity comes up, not it.”

Another loud, shrill buzzer started going off. Peter and you were once again covered in the suits while trying to get through the pain. The screams swarmed the lab. Harry ran to the red button, shutting the noise off.

The relief in your mind is how you imagined euphoria at this rate. “One more thing happens and I just might lose it.” You both stood up, disturbed but okay.

“What was that?” Peter asked before you could.

“More static discharges. The accelerator’s still running though. The serum’s okay.” Harry at least sounded more at ease now. “Guess the suit has sensitive ears…”

You looked at him intently. “Apparently.”

You all took a moment until a scent filled the air. You turned to look.

“Fire!” Peter called out.

“So much for not losing it.” You all ran to put out the fires. One more thing to ruin the night.

A/N: we're back!!! I swear this story is gonna get more interesting just stick with it! Are we slow-burning? Maybe?? Is there a little chemistry between Y/N and Peter?? Maybe??? Who knows hehe

#fanfic #harry osborn fanfiction #harry osborn ps5 #harry osborn x reader #harry osborn x y/n #insomniac spider man #marvels spiderman 2 #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman ps4

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yulafilms · 1 year

Text

⊹ 훈 ⨾ OOPSY-DAISY, BABY!

≡ ⌂ ⌕ 𝐘𝐔𝐋𝐀's masterlist. navigation. latest work. ⌨︎

wherein . .⃗ . it was love at first crash. or perhaps not. five minutes before the school bell rang and the student council president detained the late students, park sunghoon's bicycle crashed into you—and irreversibly, your life.

tropes . .⃗ . highsch romance, first love, pathetic pining, shameless flirty banter, sunshine reader x sunflower sunghoon, fluff

❛ ༄︎ ❜ SPRING. SUMMER. AUTUMN. WINTER. ᷦ᷼ ᷦ ᷦ♡

❘ ❙ ❚ 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟏.

⠀⠀⠀A MYSTIC TWINE OF FATE TETHERED YOU TO A STROKE OF BAD LUCK, PULLING YOU—AND YOUR CAR DOOR—INTO A BICYCLE.

The collision reverberated throughout the morning, scaring off a murder of crows perched atop the line of cherry blossom trees outside your high school. Jaw agape, you stopped chewing your madeleines, as if it would help you process the entire accident faster: scattered books; muddied shoes; a fallen bicycle; and your father’s concerned yell—someone just crashed into your car door.

Before you knew it, you were stuttering apologies while scrambling around, trying to gather all the books on the ground.

“Kid, are you alright?”

No, you wanted to scream. It was the first day of school, and you practically threw someone off their bike with your car door. Not to add, you were running late. However, your father wasn’t talking to you.

“I’m fine,” a silvery voice grunted.

Right. You completely forgot about the rider.

Your gaze flickered up the sprawled figure, locking with a pair of bloodshot eyes. It was a boy scrunching his face in agony. He wore identical uniforms and shoes as you did, yet somehow they appeared rather sophisticated on him. Perhaps it was the contours of his muscles or his elegant frame. Either way, he was the spitting image of an unfortunate prince being bullied on his first day.

Which made you the bully.

An awkward chuckle slipped from your greasy lips. Ashamed, you gulped down the last of your madeleines, not even bothering to chew. You wanted to explain yourself. However, the silence that stretched between you two had looped around your neck, constricting your throat. Though when you finally managed to find your voice again, you seemed to have lost your brain. Yes, that must be the case.

Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to muster the temerity to shrug your shoulders, saying: “Oopsy-daisy?”

The boy frowned.

Lovely. You wouldn’t even be shocked if he wanted to drag you around the school compound by your eye sockets.

With the support of your father’s arm, he rose from the ground, brushing off the pink petals on him. “It’s nothing serious,” he told your father through gritted teeth. “Thank you for your help, Sir.”

“Dad, you should leave. I’ll help him.” You exchanged a look with your father. As if the guilt and regret weren’t enough, now your father was berating you through his glares. You stretched a smile. “Dad, you're going to be late.”

After a few coaxing, your father left you two alone. The boy was oddly quiet, save for the few noises of discomfort. You half-expected him to discard the benevolent facade after your father left, but he didn’t blame you. All he did was fidget beside you. Maybe he was waiting for you to lend a helping hand. After all, the boy was limping, and his backpack was quite a distance away.

Gingerly, you collected all of his belongings before presenting them to him in a sincere bow.

“I'm so sorry,” you repeated for the umpteenth time. “I didn't notice your bike at all. Maybe it's due to the three hours of sleep or five cups of matcha I'm surviving on, but I had not expected you.”

For a moment, he remained mute. His silence unnerved you. You peeked at him, catching the corners of his eyes drooped in tenderness. Before you could question him, he shifted his gaze to the gate up ahead, alarmed by the school’s bell.

“Save it. We're late.” Despite the curt response, there was no bite in his tone. Because of his height, you had to crane your neck to glimpse his expression. You couldn’t read the precise emotion portrayed through his clenched jaw and furrowed brows, but you were grateful it wasn’t directed at you. “It's not entirely your fault. I wasn’t supposed to ride this close to a car, anyway.”

You bobbed your head, maybe a little too keen, because your reaction provoked a laugh out of him. Now, that caught you off guard.

Mirth lit up his eyes as they curved in a way that mimicked a partial eclipse, sunlight glimmering in the arc of his vision, captivating you to the point of blindness.

As he stretched his hand out, you shook your head. “Let me carry these,” you said. “I'm y/n, and I'm from the second class. My homeroom teacher is quite lenient, so I can spare some time to escort you to the infirmary—”

“Escort me?” He blinked, a hint of amusement in his upturned lips. “You speak as if I'm made of glass. You out of everyone would know how absurd that is, since you were ogling at my body earlier.”

You coughed.

“I was checking for bleeding. Now, let me accompany you to the infirmary, alright?”

“Fine by me.”

Without waiting for you, the boy began limping ahead.

Meanwhile, you took your sweet time strolling to school. You were already late, so what was the point of rushing?

Your fingers traced the cover of his textbook.

Park Sunghoon. Third-year student, fifth class.

You had never heard of that name before, but a stirring sensation in your gut told you that you would start to hear it more often.

“Eyes on the road.” His sly voice broke you from your reverie. “We don’t need you crashing into someone again.”

You perked your head.

“I’m so sorry! I’ll treat you to fried chicken for a month!”

✉ reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

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peachy-panic · 1 year

Note

Could we ever have a little something of Jaime dealing with his mental state after his first time with Mr. Torley?

You absolutely can.

SIX MONTHS TO GO

This takes place pretty directly after this chapter (my first Do No Harm chapter ever posted!)

WARNINGS: This is one of my darkest, I think—be careful. Explicit aftermath of noncon, suicidal thoughts, BBU/systematic slavery, dehumanization.

Chapter under the cut:

Jaime lives and dies inside his own contained eternity before Mr. Torley’s movements finally still.

When he rolls off of him—a graceless, callous departure that jostles Jaime’s lifeless form on the mattress—the air in the room feels colder than it did before. His instinct is to curl up against the chill of exposure, but he can’t make his muscles work. Would it even be allowed?

You must always make yourself available, the mantra surfaces, but it’s faint and distant, like an echo across a dark lake.

Jaime is not here. He cannot be here.

“I’m going to shower,” his Keeper says, pulling at his awareness. The bed springs groan under his shifting weight. Jaime flinches when a hand comes down on his thigh. “You can use the guest bathroom to wash up.”

The dismissal is cold. Even now, even after that, the tone sets off alarm bells. Appease. Obey.

He forces himself to move, to sit up. It hurts. It hurts worse than expected, in ways he didn’t know his body was capable of hurting. Some flash of that pain must show on the surface, because Mr. Torley narrows his attention on him again.

“It won’t always hurt, just so you know,” he says, pulling on his robe. “Not like this. The first time is always the toughest.”

Jaime nods, dazed.

Those words. The amusement. The sound of his voice. The mere fact that the man who has raped him is speaking to him at all feels like his skin is being filleted from his muscle. He wants to scream; the urge is so sudden and strong it takes him by surprise. He bites down on his cheek until copper warms his tongue.

He cannot make a sound.

Instinctively, Jaime wraps his arms over his naked stomach and curls forward, trying to cover as much of himself as possible. His keeper smiles at him, like they’re in on the same joke.

“I was in a bit of a hurry, I’ll admit,” he says. “I’m not used to having to wait three days. But we have until Monday, now, before the boys get back. We can take our time.”

Jaime focuses all his concentration on a spot on the wall and tries very, very hard not to let the tears fall. When he is sure he has enough of a grip on his composure, he stands from the bed and plucks his discarded pants from a heap on the carpet.

He has only stepped into the first leg when Mr. Torley chuckles. “Don’t bother,” he says, and it’s clearly not a suggestion. “You’re just going to take them off again. No point in being shy now.”

Grateful to be facing the opposite direction, Jaime squeezes his eyes shut. Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.

“Yes, sir.” He forces himself to pick up the pants instead. He clutches them tightly to his chest as he collects his shirt and turns for the doorway. There is a moment of hesitation. Even in his haste to put as much distance between himself and his Keeper, he waits for a proper dismissal.

“Go.” Mr. Torley nods toward the door. “Clean yourself up, but come back here after. You will sleep in my bed on the weekends unless otherwise stated. Understood?”

There is no way to prepare himself for the inevitability of knowing that it will happen again. Likely soon. Likely often.

Please don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.

“Yes, sir.”

Six months. The reminder rings through his skull like a cracked bell as he makes his way, naked, through the hallway and the den. Six months under this contract. Six months of weekends in this man’s bed.

Jaime suddenly remembers hearing stories. Overheard whispered accounts of Companions who took their lives while under contract. For the first time, he has a clear view of that outlook, and the sudden clarity stuns him.

Panic rocks into him, knocking the air from his lungs. His body goes from an empty husk to a live wire of adrenaline and fear in a heartbeat. He cannot fathom, cannot even allow himself to think about another hand on his skin, and the promise—the threat—of six more months. Of… of—

His mind retreats back to those very first days in the facility; when his entire world was narrowed to a single, locked room. His entire existence compressed into a series of unbearable moments he had to endure. He remembers the numbness that followed the fear like an old friend. He knows now that he is capable of withstanding more than he thought possible.

(But what if he doesn’t want to withstand this?)

Jaime blinks and opens his eyes to the pristine, white tile of the guest room shower. He doesn’t remember turning on the light or stepping over the lip of the tub. Warm water cascades over his face and down his chest, and he doesn’t remember turning the handle. It’s like his body is operating two steps ahead of him. He decided to accept it as a mercy.

When he blinks again, blood is swirling in the water circling the drain, turning it a sickly pale pink. He can feel the slow, warm trickle down the back of his leg. He has to swallow through wave after wave of nausea, fighting to keep from puking up bile.

Six months.

A jolt of pain shoots through him when he slides down the wet, tile wall. He has to shift onto his knees instead.

Six months.

“It won’t always hurt.”

He knows it isn’t true. He knows the physical ache he feels now is not the pain that will follow him.

Jaime spends an incalculable amount of time shaking apart on the shower floor before his training tugs at him. His Keeper told him to return to the bedroom. He doesn’t have time to unravel now. He has six more months to go, and a lifetime after that.

@whumpervescence @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump @nicolepascaline @anotherbluntpencil @hold-him-down @crystalquartzwhump @maracujatangerine @batfacedliar-yetagain @thecyrulik @pumpkin-spice-whump @finder-of-rings @melancholy-in-the-morning @insaneinthepaingame @skyhawkwolf @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @mylifeisonthebookshelf @dont-touch-my-soup @whump-world @inpainandsuffering @cicatrix-energy @quietly-by-myself @whumpsday @extemporary-whump @the-whumpers-grimm @thebirdsofgay @firewheeesky @whumperfully @hold-back-on-the-comfort @termsnconditions-apply @cyborg0109 @whumplr-reader

#do no harm: jaime & sebastian #whump #whumplr #whump writing #bbu #like bbu adjacent?#cw noncon #i got this ask last night #and it immediately catapulted me into writing mode #it was wild revisiting this era since it was the very first chapter i ever wrote of jaime #he is still not that happy but hes doing so much better in modern day #it sucks to remember the foul way torley treated him

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eve-lullabye · 2 years

Text

Where a hunter takes interest in you

Extra long one!

Based off IDV

You nervously drummed your fingers the table in the dining hall. Epel, who was carving an apple next to you, wasn't doing much better.

Recently, Dr. Emily had announced that the other team was receiving a new hunter. You didn't know who or what, but you knew for sure that this hunter was strong. It was completely unfair. You had four people who were survivors in each match, but that never seemed to bother any hunter. It seemed like they kept on winning. However, each side had victories and losses, and, in the end, they balanced into an equal number.

Your match today made you feel worse. You were a decoder and nothing more. Naib the Mercenary had thankfully given you tips on how to kite if you were ever being chased. Well, it was more like you watched Naib kite, while you decoded. But still, you had no time to try and raise you skills. Without Naib, you seemed nervous as there was no rescuer on the team.

Epel, who was also participating in the match, was a great assist survivor. His apples boosted either his or the one he gifted the apple to. Unfortunately, he was only allowed to take four. It was better than three, but who wouldn't want a limitless supply of apple healers.

You're other two teammates, Seer and Lucky, were most likely in their rooms. Seer had an owl, which could either protect him or view the other survivors. Lucky, on the other hand, well... you actually weren't sure what he could do.

You looked at the grandfather clock and sighed. It was time. The four of you made your way with Seer and Lucky leading. Epel chose to walk behind you. In a way, he reminded you a little bit of Robbie. Someone who didn't deserve to be here, someone too young to be stripped away from the world. You had told Epel to come to you if he had any problems. Each of you took your designated spots in the chair and waited for the hunter or huntress to enter behind the curtain. Seer caught your eyes and smiled. It was as if he was trying to comfort you.

Out of all the hunters you prayed that it to be Photographer or the Ripper. They were a bit gentler when chairing, and being true gentlemen they would sometimes give apologetic smiles.

.............

You sighed as shattering glass filled your view. You blanked out and spawned in the Lakeside Village. Before moving to the nearest cipher, you checked your surroundings so the hunter couldn't jump you. Then you ran towards the cipher and pulled out your laptop, connecting it to the cipher. You shouted out to the others, "0% decoding."

Epel and Seer responded at the same time, "33% decoding!" You, immediately, assumed that they were working together. Lucky didn't say anything which alarmed you. Unexpectedly, your heart started glowing purple. You stopped moving your hands and glanced around. In the distance, you saw Lucky running straight towards you. Oh, no you didn't. You grabbed your laptop and bolted away.

Lucky was not throwing that hunter on you. The sound of ciphers popping informed you that only three more were left. Thankfully, your heart had stopped thumping loudly, and you slowed down to catch your breath.

"[Name]!"

You screamed when you turn around to find Seer clapping his hand over your mouth.

"Shh!" he hissed and grabbed your hand to take the both of you up the shipwreck to the cipher. You connected your laptop the cipher, then helped Seer. It occurred to you that this was your first time working with Seer. You and Epel were always partners because of your compatibility. You missed a calibration and yelped when the cipher shocked you. At the same time, you hear the bell ringing meaning someone was down.

Across the map you hear Lucky, "My bad!" And unsurprisingly after a few good seconds he was chaired.

Epel called further away, "89%!"

You looked at Seer hopefully. To your relief he sighed and grumbled, "Fine. Keep decoding!" You smiled thankfully and continued working.

You glanced over your shoulder to check on Seer's progress, then you looked at Lucky's remaining time. If Seer doesn't run into hunter, he can make it.

All of a sudden Lucky screamed, "Don't save me!" You whirled around and watched as Seer faltered then began picking up his speed. Epel too had moved in Lucky's direction. You checked the remaining ciphers. Two left including yours. The fireworks going off announced that Lucky had been sent back to the mansion. Seer moved to your first cipher and shouted, "The hunter has changed targets!"

Your fingers missed a second calibration. You waited a few seconds before continuing on. The hunter hadn't seen. Or so you thought. The thumping of your heart steadily grew louder and louder.

"No, no, no, no!" You cursed. You broke away from the cipher and crawled away hoping to avoid the hunter. However, with no understanding which direction the hunter was coming from, all you could do was hope that you weren't found. The floorboards creaked painfully and you hid yourself behind some boxes.

A shadow passed, and you held your breath. Your heartbeat declined and you went out to see if the hunter was still around. No one was in sight. You walked backwards for a moment looking around for any sign of life and rounded the corner to your right. When you turned around, your body bumped right into someone else's. You fell down in shock then looked up.

"Found you."

A gorgeous blonde with mesmerizing purple eyes stared down at you amused. His hair was in an updo and adorned by a crown. He wore floor-length violet robes with red fabric on the inside. It was folded neatly to show a black button-down shirt with a collar underneath the topwear. His robe was bound by a black sash and red rope over the sash. His robe sleeves were open at the shoulder and ended at the knees. The robes seemed to be parted so that he could walk easily. In his left hand he held a purple bounded book and in his right a mirror. He looked, no, was perfect. You swallowed hard, as your cheeks began to redden.

"Not going to run?" He chuckled, "I guess that works for me. I'd rather not dirty myself." Everything happened too fast. The hunter had raised his left hand and terror shocked you. Then he clamped his hand onto your shoulder and ballooned you carrying you to the nearest chair. After he made sure you were secure there, he sat down on a barrel not to far from you. He propped his chin onto his hand and stared at you. Feeling embarrassed, you averted your gaze.

"You really do look like a potato," he muttered.

"Sorry?" You weren't sure if you heard him correctly.

"But still, you may have potential," he continued not interested in conversing with you. The last cipher popped and you jumped hearing the sound of the alarm.

"Shouldn't you be chasing the other survivors?" you meekly asked.

"Are you hoping that I will fall under your ploy and lose my catch once I leave? I'd rather have a tie. Plus," he smirked, "its only a matter of time."

A matter of time 'til what? You began to drum your fingers.

"What's your name?"

You stiffened, watching him out of the corner of his eye. "Why should I tell you?"

"A name for a name?" The blonde tried again.

"No," you refused. He just rolled his eyes and stood up. You heard footsteps running to you. Had he been stalling to keep you from warning your teammates? Your eyes widened when you saw Epel. "Epel get out of here!"

Of course, being the stubborn boy he was, Epel didn't listen. He ran up to you chair sparing a glance at the beautiful hunter who smiled like a cat who caught the mouse. Epel hesitated. When the blonde didn't make any movements, your purple-haired friend starting releasing you. And then down he went.

"Gosh darnit!" Epel cried in pain. "Sorry, [Name]!"

You sighed and smiled slightly. He was trying his best. "It's fine, Epel!"

The hunter smirked, ballooning the purplette, "We shall see each other again, [Name]." The way he looked at you made you want punch him in the gut. And yet, the familiar pink tinge spread across your face.

"Ew! You two like each other! Disgustin'! An' you! Lemme down this instance an' fight me like a man!" Epel flailed. Your chair began spiraling into the sky, but you could still see the handsome hunter scoff at Epel.

"I will have to teach you some manners."

.............

The next few days, the four of you rested from your match with the new hunter. All the survivors wanted to know what he looked like, what abilities he had, and what his name was. Seer, whose name you had learned was Eli and the only able to escape, hadn't run into him. Epel described him as hissy prick. You contradicted Epel with your description. Lucky had actually been lucky enough to see one of the blonde's ability.

Apparently, his mirror allowed him to find the location of the survivors for a certain amount of seconds. The book still remained unknown. As for the name, nobody knew.

All of you were in the common room chatting happily when someone knocked on the door.

Vera the Perfumer brightened up, "Is that a new survivor?"

Emily shrugged and hastened to the door, opening it. There in all of his glory stood the blonde hunter. All of the girls visibly blushed or swooned, and the boys just gaped, except your troupe.

The hunter stepped in and audibly sniffed. "Good evening, my name is Vil Schoenheit and I'm here for..." He trailed off; and when his poisonous purple gaze found you, he smirked, "you." You paled as he took long strides to your seat. Surprisingly compared to how he chaired you, Vil gently took your hand into his pulling you up. Everyone stared at you now. You wanted to say 'this isn't what you think'. Then he snagged Epel with his other hand which curled onto the boy's shoulder and pulled the two of you out towards the hunters' abode.

Vil gave the two of you makeovers and complained about your skin. You actually enjoyed yours or maybe it's because you were secretly attacked to Vil. You noticed that Vil spent more time on you and couldn't help but wonder. Was he attracted to you too? The moment Vil reached out for Epel, your friend began screaming bloody murder. Vil immediately put the boy in his place, and Epel sat there like a slug as the hunter placed makeup products over his face.

This became a routine when Vil was in the same matches as you, never sparing any of you if possible. To be honest, you crushed on him and enjoy spending time with the blonde. Epel would hide away, but sooner or later Vil would find him.

Even more surprisingly, at one point, Epel had told you that he looked up to Vil like a brother, and you were happy to see their relationship improve.

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #pomefiore #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #epel felmier #idv #identity v #idv seer #idv lucky guy #idv perfumer #idv x reader #idv mercenary #idv doctor

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simple-seranade · 2 years

Text

so i wrote more of that shapeshifter!jimmy concept- team rancher fans (/p or /r) come get y’all’s content

(part one here! shoutout to @pixiemage for the inspo to add some team rancher, apologies for the tag if it is unwanted-)

TW: body horror, panic attack, lots of anxiety

Tango is a being of emotion.

Whether the fires of passion and rage that consumed him in the Life games, to the ice cold loneliness he felt after the fact when he realized his soulmate was gone, the man has had plenty of practice in letting his feelings flow through him, empower him, become the fuel that kept him going.

So when he receives Jimmy’s message in the world chat, every single alarm bell in his head sounding that something was wrong, Jimmy is in trouble, go help him, go find your rancher…

Well, Tango felt his feet hit the sand before he even had the conscious thought of going to find the sheriff.

He can’t help the feeling of worry that pools in his gut as he nears the town, ignoring the gritting sensation of the wind-tossed sand flying in his face, his clothes, his hair. His mind is frantic and flickering as the possibilities flare to life, all the groundless worst case scenarios painting a baseless picture of ash and ruin.

The smell of singed sand rises in the air, causing Tango to pause, looking back at the course he was taking. A series of smoking footprints trail behind him, some flames still burning in his wake despite the fact the only fuel was the sand and the hot desert sun. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he attempts to steady his breathing.

He has no reason to be getting this upset, no valid explanation for the uncanny fear that’s taken residence in his chest. He shouldn’t even be worried, for void’s sake. After all, Jimmy was talking after a few days of radio silence, and nothing he had said was wrong, or bad, or even troublesome, but for some reason the ice blue flames on Tango’s head were roaring like a bonfire three times their size.

Maybe if he just… reads the message again, he’ll calm down. He can rationalize, go check in Jimmy without the threat of accidentally burning the town to the ground, and just catch up with the sheriff. It had been a while since they’ve gotten the chance to chat, Tango getting caught up in helping FWhip with his Empire and Jimmy’s never-ending feud with Joel.

Tango hums absentmindedly as he walks, pulling up the world chat on his communicator.

Jimmy: Renovations in Tumble Town. For safety purposes, visitors are banned until further notice.

See? Nothing to worry about. He was fine, there was nothing wrong with Jimmy. Tumble Town was just changing, so he was probably busy. Everything was fine.

Someone should notify Tango’s emotions of that message, because the pit of worry in his gut only grows. Whoever said anxiety was a rainy emotion must not have known what they were talking about, because the smoke pillaring into the sky from the icy blue flames in his hair seemed to perfectly match the hot sparks of panic in Tango’s chest.

He really needs to find Jimmy before he sets the entire desert ablaze over paranoia.

Because that’s all it could be. Paranoia. He was getting worried over nothing. He can’t feel Jimmy’s pain anymore, he has no reason, no way of knowing the sheriff is hurting or in any kind of danger. Then again, it also meant he isn’t sure Jimmy isn’t, either.

He had never missed the soulbond more.

The wave of relief that crashes over him when the familiar walls of Tumble Town rise in the distance is hardly enough to quell the burning emotion inside of him, but it does dim the glow to a more reasonable proportion. Nothing is on fire- well, aside from Tango himself- and no screams are to be heard. In fact, it's a typical quiet desert day.

Nothing like Tango would expect from a place undergoing heavy renovations.

He tries to keep himself in check as he nears Tumble Town, doing his level best to not let his growing unease affect him. Everything is normal, any traces of the claimed construction nowhere to be seen. The only out of the ordinary occurrence is the fact that, despite the sun barely even beginning to dip past its midday point in the sky, the lights in the sheriff office are completely off. Jimmy usually keeps the lights on to let people know they could come in and receive help from the sheriff if they needed it.

Tango’s traitorous brain considers truly for the first time that something is actually wrong. That he isn’t imagining things. That Jimmy…

He needs to find his rancher.

The blaze hybrid takes a deep breath, steadying his nerves. “Jimmy? Where are you?”

Silence.

A fiery man’s sinking heart.

Then, so soft it was nearly imperceptible, a sniffle.

Tango swings his head around, attempting to pinpoint the origin of the sound. His blue eyes land on the dark sheriff’s office, and his heart sinks as a small, pitiful whine comes from inside. He isn't sure he’s ever moved faster than he does in that moment, the door opened and shut before he even processed the fact that his feet were moving, creaking against the wooden planks. “Jimmy? Jimmy, are you ok? What’s-“

“Tango, you shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.” A hoarse whisper sounds from the back corner of the room, shrouded in shadows from the lack of lights. Tango fights back a cringe at the sound of the voice he knew so well, which was oddly lifeless and wooden.

The blaze hybrid takes a step towards where the sheriff is, brightening the room slightly as the icy blue fire that partially made him fought back the dark.The figure of his past soulmate is huddled against the wall, features still too dim to make out. He is also, worryingly, very, very small, the size of a stuffed animal instead of a man. He takes another step. “I was worried. It’s been a while since we’ve talked, and I just wanted to see-“

“STOP!” The pure fear in the sheriff’s voice causes Tango to freeze. “Don’t come any closer, leave, you need to leave-“ Jimmy’s voice hitches, his breath becoming more shallow and frantic.

Ice cold panic shoots through Tango’s veins. Jimmy- Jimmy is scared. His rancher is terrified, on the verge of a panic attack, he has to help. He takes a shuddering breath, steadying himself and doing his best to keep his flames under control as he sits in front of the sheriff.

“Jimmy, I need you to breathe with me, ok? Just listen to my breathing, do your best to copy it.” He inhales loudly, counting to four in his head before holding it. Then, slowly, he exhales, fighting to keep it at a reasonable pace when he was panicking as well.

Jimmy sucks in a breath, but it catches in his throat as he chokes back a sob. Tango ignores the pang in his heart at the sound, continuing the breathing pattern.

It takes an agonizing fifteen minutes for the sheriff to be able to breath, and another five before either of the men are able to break the silence.

“Jimmy…”

“I’m fine.” The sheriff interrupts. Tango can see the small lawmaker rub furiously at his eyes with the heels of his hands before freezing, lowering them again. “You can go now.”

“You were just having a panic attack, Jimmy. I’ll give you some space if you want me to, but… I just want to know you’re ok. Just-“ He sighs, wringing his hands nervously. “You’re my rancher, and I know I haven’t been around much, but I still care.”

He keeps his gaze on his hands, fully expecting Jimmy to implore him to leave. What right did he have to still be here? Yeah, he and Jimmy were close, but Jimmy was clearly trying to be alone, to distance himself from him and the others on the server.

He ignores how that thought makes him even less inclined to leave the sheriff alone.

Just as he’s about to stand up, apologize, leave, do something, he feels a small tug on his cloak. He looks down, and right there is Jimmy.

It has to be Jimmy, and that’s what makes Tango’s heart break.

It breaks because instead of just a small version of the man he’s fought by, lived by, died by, he was… wrong.

That was the only way Tango can describe it. The only way he can possibly put into words the way his stomach twists as he takes in the sight of glassy lifeless eyes, of stitches pulled tightly into plush skin, of the long ring-tipped string sprouting from a back where there had once been beautiful golden wings before those had disappeared. The soft golden hair had given way to obnoxiously yellow string, just barely escaping from under the sheriff hat atop his head.

Dazed, the blaze hybrid reaches out, gently cradling the man’s the toy’s Jimmy’s face with his fingers. Instead of slightly stubbled skin, his fingers are met with the sensation of fabric. He can feel the stuffing underneath, even though he’s barely applying any pressure.

“Tango-“

“Who did this to you?” Tango growls, unable to stop his fire from brightening and raging, so much so he had to lean forward to make sure he didn’t set the wall ablaze. His vision is tinged with a vibrant sky blue, his thoughts racing as furyprotectivenessragecare surges through him, because someone’s turned Jimmy into the very thing he had been protesting this entire time, and when he finds them Tango is going to make sure they feel the burning of a thousand suns-

“Tango, calm!”

The familiar voice snaps reality back into place with the faint memory of sunny farms and peaceful farm animals. The blaze hybrid blinks away the remnants of blue clouding his vision, gaze settling on the small sheriff in front of him. Small plush hands were on his shoulders, and those glassy eyes stared up at Tango with a slightly pained look that was no doubt only a small part of what he was really feeling.

“Tango, I know this is upsetting, but there’s no use in raging. It won’t change anything.” The pure resignation in Jimmy’s voice nearly breaks Tango’s heart all over again

The blaze hybrid shudders, trying to rein in his emotions. “Sorry. I- I just- how did this happen?”

Jimmy laughs, a hollow and humorless sound. “No idea. I changed a few days ago, finally regained enough control over my limbs to message the world chat today. Turns out typing and using a communicator without bones is hard. Who knew?”

Tango’s eyes only widen in horror as the sheriff talks. “Oh, Jimmy…”

“And I probably should have seen this coming, if the Life games were anything to go by, I apparently don’t get to control these things because the universe hates me, but- but it hurt, it hurt so bad-“ He blinks furiously, eyes dry. “And I can’t even- I can’t even cry, Tango, and you know more than anyone how much of that I did the first time.”

The memories of tear soaked sheets mingling with the blood and feathers strewn about surface in Tango’s mind, along with the haunting sobs as the wings tore their way through Jimmy’s back.

Those were just wings. The entirety of Jimmy’s body had gone through that level of change. Alone.

Oh void.

“But yeah, that’s- that’s the story. The Toy Story, one could say. I’m sorry you had to see me like this, I-“

Jimmy is cut off as he’s pulled haphazardly into a hug, suddenly surrounded by warmth and comfort and Tango.

“I am so sorry.”

The sheriff grips tightly onto the arms around him with what little strength his plush arms and hands have to offer. “Why on earth are you apologizing? You’ve done nothing to apologize for.”

“I left you alone, Jimmy. I got so caught up in my work at FWhips and I haven’t gotten to talk to you and you went through so much hurt, my rancher, and I’m so sorry.”

How does someone respond to that? How does someone tell a person, a friend, a companion who was crying their eyes out, that their absence was understandable, even if their presence would have been the most beloved thing in the world? How does one break the news that the universe was trying to break him piece by piece, and it was no use shedding tears over his inevitable fall?

Jimmy doesn’t know how to do that, so instead he hugs the man tighter, trying to fit all the unspeakable words and pain and grief and resignation and acceptance into the grasp of his hands.

“I forgive you.” Jimmy murmurs, feeling Tango’s breath hitch against him.

“You will never have to go through that alone again. You wont have to do any of this alone.”

The sheriff’s breath stutters, and phantom tears he knows he can no longer shed gather in his eyes. “I- I- Tango, you can’t. You have more important things to do-“ more important people to spend time with “-and- and as much as I hate it, you… you have to head back to Hermitcraft eventually.” The thought that Scar would be leaving him, Tango would be leaving him, everyone he had on his side, it’s been enough to drive Jimmy mad. Still, he doesn’t have any plans yet to keep them there, any plans to convince them to stay, please, please don’t leave him all alone again, don’t make him fight the world alone, he can’t bear it.

“You’re hurting. I’ve seen how they’ve treated you with the whole toy thing, I’m not leaving you to face that alone. Besides, I don’t think I’ve gotten to officially stay in that house you’ve built me, which is a shame because it’s lovely.”

“But Hermitcraft! You have things there you can’t just abandon, Tango! You shouldn’t pick me over what you guys have been trying to get back to all this time.”

Tango slips his fingers under Jimmy’s chin, guiding his gaze up to him. “Jimmy. Do you want me to stay with you?”

More than anything. I would let you set the world ablaze if it meant I could have someone in my corner, someone who respects me, just please, don’t leave me.

“I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“But do you want to?”

Yes, almost more than I wish to be human again.

The sheriff looks down, filled with shame, because he can’t keep Tango here, he can’t, but he also can’t get his mouth to form the one word he needs it to to let Tango go on his way.

The silence is answer enough, and Jimmy can feel the arms around him tighten, and it should be uncomfortable by this point, but all he can think is warmcomfysafehere.

“Well then, I guess you can let the rest of the Empires know you have another deputy now.” The sheriff’s hat is lifted off his head, and a hand runs carefully through his knotted yarn hair.

“Tango-“

“Nope, no trying to convince me otherwise. The decision has been made.”

Tango expects more resistance, given his past soulmate’s infamous stubbornness, but instead he just hears a hushed, hopeful response.

“… You’ll really stay?”

“As long as you’ll have me.”

As Jimmy looks up, meeting the blaze hybrid’s eyes, he’s in shock of just how much genuine care is shining in them. He… he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand why Tango is treating him like this, when all he’s done is been horribly, horribly selfish, keeping him from all he cares about, wanting him to stay here with him because he’s horrible and a joke and no one respects him-

But- but Tango doesn’t… Tango doesn’t think he’s horrible, or laughable, or the antithesis to all things serious. Or, if he does… he’s still willing to stand by Jimmy, even as Jimmy becomes even more of a mockery of respect with every passing day.

Jimmy’s heart grew warm at the thought.

Maybe things would be ok after all. Together… together they can figure this out.

If Jimmy will have him.

“Always.”

———————

ok that was my first time writing tango so apologies if he was horrendously OOC-

but yeah i just love team rancher and this au and just. empires x hermitcraft brainrotting is STRONG

definitely gonna write more of this, so like. idk if y’all want a taglist but if you want to be added to one just lemme know, through an ask, reblog, comment, whatever floats your boat.

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i-fondued · 2 years

Text

Kinktober 2022 | Ghost - Parchment and Promises

When his favorite Sister of Sin get reassigned to library duty, Papa Emeritus III obviously has to take advantage of the secluded space.

Pairing: Papa Emeritus III/Terzo x Reader/Sister of Sin

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: oral sex, library smut, public sexual acts, google translate italian, dom/fem-dom if you squint?

A/N: I told y’all I would end up writing Terzo too, gotta have an excuse to use more smutty, sexy, shitty google translate Italian. This might end up with a surprise part two because our lovers don’t actually fuck but hey, who knows. Also if anyone actually cares, no this isn’t the same sister of sin that is in my other stories with copia… though now I cant not write that one ahahahaha

enjoy!!

AO3 link HERE

The abbey bells tolled softly in the distance, echoing through the lofty space.

The sun was just beginning to set, golden hour rays streaming lazily through the ornate stained glass windows; which in turn casted beautiful shapes of all colors.

I was in the back corners of the library, putting away the massive books and tiny scrolls that the other senior sisters had pulled out during their hours of translations. Normally I was assigned to work in the kitchens, cooking for the many siblings of sin that called the abbey home. However, one of the senior sisters had taken ill and I had been told to switch for the day, pushing around a dusty cart full of books rather than being elbow deep in bread flour.

I hummed as I worked, slipping between the massive bookshelves and sliding everything back to its proper home. I paused when I felt a set of eyes on me, head whipping around to look for the source of the feeling and finding nobody. Feeling a presence but not seeing one wasn’t cause for alarm here, if anything it was a painfully shy ghoul lurking just out of view. I went back to my work again, focusing on the cart and the books on it, and ignoring the feeling of someone watching as best as possible. Someone’s arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back against them, their other hand coming up to cover my mouth as I started to scream.

I began to flail wildly, hands coming up to pull at the wrist of my attacker, before I heard the deep rumble of a chuckle in my ear.

“Bella mia, Sorella, I startle you?” The hand covering my mouth was pulled away and I looked back at my attacker, a scowl on my face.

“Satan below, Terzo. Yes, of course you scared me!” I snapped, trying to turn to look at him but his hands gripped my hips and I felt him rest his chin on my shoulder, kissing my cheek quickly.

“Mi displace, I’m sorry,” He purred, his fingers brushing against my hips softly in slow strokes. I leaned against him, a blush forming on my cheeks. “I saw you pass by me and I assume you notice me.”

“Hm.” I mumbled, a small shiver running down my spine as he pushed my habit to the side and pressed soft kisses to the sensitive skin of my neck.

“It is nice to see you out of the kitchen, si? It is like a dungeon down there.” His deep voice rumbled against his lips as he skillfully ran his tongue against the shell of my ear. “You are too delicate to be working hard in there Bella…”

His right hand curved around my body, brushing his fingertips softly against my waist before coming to gently paw at my breasts. His other hand gripped my hip obsessively as he gently rocked against me, I could feel his cock getting hard with each gentle brush against my ass. My body felt like it was heating up, like I was working in front of the ovens making dinner, a small weak smile on my lips.

“I-I like my job, Papa…” I chuckled softly before biting on my bottom lip as his fingers rolled my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging gently at the little bundle of nerves.

“Si, si. But I have a better job for you, mia cara…”

“Oh?”

“Si.” He chucked, tugging me against him and turning so I was facing the bookshelves. “La mia proprieta…”

My hands came up to steady myself against the shelves as Terzo yanked my hips back against him; he ground against my ass and I had to hold back a moan, a small whimper slipping from my lips. His hands wandered from my hips, caressing at my sides before he curled around me. He pressed more kisses to my neck, his tongue swirling around my skin in a way that he seemed to only know how. I fought to stifle a moan, my fist pressing against my lips, and I could feel Papa chucking as he turned me in his arms.

“What you say, cara mia? Hm?” Terzo smiled at me, a rare boyish one and I felt my cheeks turn bright red as his mismatched eyes crinkled as he chuckled at my face. His hand came up to cup my cheek, his fingers caressing my jawline as I looked up at him with hooded eyes.

I didn’t answer him, I pushed forward and kissed him firmly. His arms curled around my waist, pushing me back against the bookshelf with a mumbled Italian I didn’t quite catch. My own arms wrapped firmly around his neck, fingers running into his hair and scratching softly at the base of his neck. I could feel the shudder run through his body and smirked into the kiss. He may have known exactly how to turn me on, but two could play at that game and I was very good at this one.

I pushed against his chest softly and Terzo pulled away with a confused look on his face, I smirked at him as I pushed him back against the bookshelf on the other side of the alcove we were in. He let out a little oof when his back hit the shelves and I locked eyes with him, his pupils blown wide with lust. I slowly fell to my knees while never breaking our eye contact. Terzo’s breath was coming hard and fast as my hand slid up his muscular thighs; fingers gently caressing as one hand started to undo his belt while the other teasingly traced his cock as it strained against the confines of his trousers.

“S-sorella…m-mio dio…” Terzo groaned quietly, his hand coming to settle on my head. He started to pull off the habit but I swatted his hand away.

“Leave it on.”

Another string of incoherent italian as my hand slipped into his trousers, freeing his cock from the straining fabric. Terzo’s hand gripped the shelf by his hips, white knuckled, as he watched with his mismatched gaze as my hand ran up and down his shaft teasingly. I leaned forward and placed soft kisses on his length, barely ghosting my lips over the skin. He bucked his hips forward weakly, knowing I would walk away if he got too carried away too quickly. He was whimpering when I finally, mercifully, let my tongue slip out and ran it against the head of his cock tasting the precum that had beaded there.

“Sa-santi sotto, cara mia…” Terzo moaned, his hips bucking against my lips as I pumped my fist up and down him again. “Take pity, no?”

I locked eyes with him, a small smile as I took in the site in front of me. Papa Emeritus III. His hair messy, cheeks flushed so deep I could see it under his paints, his whole body was wound tight as he looked at me with a withering lusty gaze. I felt powerful, a warm feeling sliding down my spine and settling in my belly.

“I’m not sure you’ve earned it, Papa…” I purred, feeling bold as I began to take him into my mouth. My tongue swirled around the head as I took him as deep as I could, hollowing out my cheeks as I pulled back.

Terzo’s right hand shot out towards my head before he thought better of it and gripped the bookshelf again. His head rolled back, thumping softly against the old books on the shelves, as little words of encouragement and broken Italian slipped from his lips. I couldn’t help but smirk as I continued to bob my head up and down his cock, tongue massaging at the underside of his length. Surprising both Terzo and myself I managed to swallow him down to the base, my nose brushing at the soft curls as I held him deeply before pulling back again. I teased him again with my tongue and felt his hips begin to match my pace and I knew he was getting close.

“Fanculo questo.” Terzo cursed, hands grabbing my head and a thrill shot down my spine knowing he was about to lose control.

Holding my head steady Terzo began fucking my mouth for all he was worth; I was gagging, spittle slipping down my lips and dripping obscenely into my lap but my hands stayed curled around his thighs. I heard him grunting above me, italian words mixed in and I felt the heat pooling in my belly as I squirmed under him. Unable to help myself I let my hand reach up and cup his balls, massaging them softly.

“Ingoialo, Sorella…” He grunted, before quickly thrusting a few more times before I felt his cock twitch in my mouth. I felt the hot spurt out and down my throat, greedily swallowing everything. After a few shallow thrusts he pulled away, cock slipping from my mouth as he brushed his fingers against my scalp.

“Perfezione, Bella.” Terzo stood there, eyes barely open as he caught his breath while leaning heavily on the bookshelf. My face was flushed, breath coming in and out steadily, as I squirmed on the floor beneath him. “Brava ragazza, si, good girl…”

Terzo smiled warmly at me, eyes full of adoration as he cupped my cheek again. His thumb brushed the remnants of spittle and his seed from the corner of my lips. He tucked himself back in his trousers before helping me to stand up. My legs quaked, numb from kneeling on the floor so long, and ever the gentleman Terzo helped steady me against the bookshelves. His hands warm on my hip as he kissed my neck again, teeth nipping at my shoulder as he pulled at my robes. My hips bucked forward as his hand pulled at the hem of my robes, fingers brushing softly against my bare thigh as he curled his fingers against the tops of my stockings.

“I return the favor, no?” He purred, his lips brushing against mine before pulling away. A whimper slipped from my lips, eyes locking on his as I nodded quickly at him.

“Please, Papa.”

Terzo smiled at me, my heart fluttering in its cage as a warm feeling spread over my entire body. “Qualsiasi cosa per la mia ragazza. Anything for you, Bella.”

I watched, my breath coming in staccato bursts, as Terzo sunk to his knees. Mirroring myself only moments ago, his fingers pushed my skirts up, exposing my underwear. Ever the tease, I felt his fingers brush against where I had soaked through the fabric. He practically purred at me as he ran his fingers against me, feeling the practically dripping fabric. “All for me, mia?”

“Yes, Papa…” I moaned quietly, fingers tangling in his hair as Terzo leaned forward to pull my underwear down with his teeth. I rolled my hips against his face and my clit brushed against his nose.

“Sorella, you are dripping…” He sighed, pulling one leg over his shoulder. “All for your Papa?”

“Always, Papa.”

I was off balance slightly, leaning my weight backwards against the shelves while balancing on one leg as best as I could. I moved the cart closer to us, giving myself more space to lean if needed. I opened my legs as Terzo settled into position, one arm curled around the thigh on his shoulder and pinning me in place. He buried his face between my legs, fingers spreading me open as he ran his tongue up my opening and barely brushing against my clit.

I bit my lip hard, holding back a moan I knew anyone in the library would hear from anywhere, and bucked my hips against his lips. My heart felt like it was going to leap out of my chest, blood ringing in my ears, and my breath coming in short bursts as Terzo devoured me. His fingers pressed inside of me, my walls instantly clamping down on him as he provided the friction I so sorely needed.

“Terzo…” I moaned his name, head thrown back against the books as I closed my eyes to the feeling of his tongue flicking against my clit.

“Sorella…sei mio.” He groaned into my cunt, faintly I could feel him rolling his hips against his free hand and I knew he was hard again. “Only mine…”

“Only yours,” I parroted him, my knees buckling slightly. I felt Terzo pivot us and slide me to sit on the cart, before he pulled my other thigh up onto his shoulder. I moaned, legs squeezing his head slightly as I felt a shudder roll down my spine. “Only ever yours, Papa…”

His rumbly moan at my response sent shockwaves right to the pool of heat in my belly and I ground against his face, fingers tugging on his hair sharply. My nails dug into his scalp as my orgasam clawed its way to the edge of the clif I was desperate to fling myself over. Terzo’s tongue swirling my clit had my legs quaking on his shoulders, he knew I was close and I felt his fingers turn in their gentle thrusting and curl towards the spongy spot inside me that made my toes curl.

“Oh. Oh fuck Terzo…” I groaned, thighs squeezing his head as he continued to slurp at my clit as my orgasam washed over me. It was so strong I thought I was going to black out, vision swirling slightly. But I couldn’t help but lock with Papa’s gaze, his miss matched eyes filled with mirth between my thighs as I moaned his name, begging him to never stop.

Aftershocks slowly spilled down my spine as I rode out my pleasure against Terzo’s face, before my fingers loosened the grip on his hair. He pulled back slightly, pressing his cheek into my limp hand like a kitten would to an open palm. He wiped his face with my underwear and my face flushed scarlet as he took a deep breath.

“I keep these, si? As a reward for Papa’s hard work.” He chucked, tucking the fabric in his back pocket before standing slowly.

“Whatever you’d like, Papa.” I mumbled, dazed and with a content look on my face. His hand came up to cup my face, I nuzzled into him before he leaned down to press soft kisses to my face and lips. Terzo stepped between my legs, I could feel his cock stirring in his trousers and I couldn’t help the giggle that slipped from my lips. Terzo went to say something before he ducked down again, before I could say anything or even look at him I heard footsteps.

“Sister, are you over here?”

One of the senior sisters who worked in the library stepped around the corner behind me, I whipped my head around while scooting so my robes would cover my legs.

“Ah there you are! Are you almost done sister, dinner is starting soon and I wanted to let you know.” She smiled warmly at me, before slipping the book she had in her hands in its proper place.

“Y-yes, thank you Sister. I’ll be right there, I only have a small book to put away.”

“Oh I can take it-“

“NO! No, it's okay!” I laughed, eyes wild as she started to step towards me. I could feel Terzo’s hands wandering up my legs again and I kicked at him, earring a soft grunt from the man in front of me. “I-I wanted to finish the task myself, nothing better than a good days work…”

“All the younger sisters should strive to be like you Sister,” She smiled again at me. “Our work is important to the dark lord, not just flirting with the Papas.”

“Yes, Sister. I agree.” My eyes drifted to the floor, Terzo had a big stupid grin on his face and I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes at him.

“Well, don’t delay too much Sister. You wouldn’t want to miss out on Papa’s blessings for dinner.” She waved at me before beginning to walk away from me.

“Something tells me I won’t miss Papa, Sister.” I was holding back my laughter as I listened to the sound of her footsteps fading.

Terzo smirked at me, standing once again, before leaning down to kiss my lips gently while his hand slipped beneath my habit to tangle in my hair.

“Will I see you after dinner, Sorella?” He murmured against my lips, his hips grinding against mine as I shuttered again.

“Always, Papa.”

“Promettere, bella mia?”

“I promise, Terzo.”

#my writing #ghost #the band ghost #Ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus lll #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa terzo #Terzo fanfiction #Fanfiction #ao3 crosspost #Terzo feels like one big puppy when he is pussy whipped for youuuu #Like my mans would RISK IT ALL if it meant the chance to eat you out one last time #We will be back to our shy rat boy tomorrow I think #Unless people really love these two too and then i guess I’ll have to write them actually fucking at some point

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words-are-fireproof · 2 years

Text

In The Night Comes a Phone Call - Javier Peña x fem!reader

(*gif via @tomshiddles)

Summary: You knew you'd bruise his soul soon enough. You just didn't know how quickly it would happen. Turns out, it happened far quicker than you expected it to.

Rating: M, this time thanks to cursing and brief descriptions of sex.

Word Count: 2.0k

A/N: Here it is! The sequel to Souls Heal Less Readily! Rejoice! Woohoo! Endings still aren't the best thing in the world for me to write, nor are fights, honestly, but here you go. I'm really quite proud of this one! I hope you guys like it.

As always, make sure to subscribe to @fireproof-library because I don't do tag lists. Because I have a goldfish brain.

[Masterlist] || [Part One] || [Part Three]

-----

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep. It could’ve been around midnight. It could’ve been around three. You weren’t paying attention to the time.

The only thing you were paying attention to was the way Javier moved inside of you and over you.

The skin of his hips slapping against the curve of your bum. His arm banded around your stomach, hand moving furiously between your legs.

You’d lost count of the number of orgasms by the time he finally came and relaxed into your back, his forehead pressed between your shoulder blades, breath heavy against your sweat sheened skin. Time had no meaning to you and you found yourself glad about that. If you’d lost track of time, maybe he had too. Maybe he’d pushed aside the guilt and horrors of that night. Maybe he could forget, if only for a little while.

You resisted the urge to ask him, just like you said you would. And you’d keep that promise, until the day he decided to tell you.

…Or you could read about it in an incident report. Or maybe, just maybe–most likely–whatever had happened would be on the news. Colombia had a way of reporting fact and fiction, biased and unbiased news. The corruption Escobar brought along with him permeated up to the highest echelons of government, save for the President, but even you didn’t like the way he seemed to cow to Escober while also sending the Search Bloc and the DEA on a manhunt to find him. But that was a gripe for another time. It wouldn’t do well to start airing grievances when Javier had finally, finally seemed to relax. His body, cocooned deftly and snuggly around you, finally felt loose, his breathing evened out until the softness of his breaths signaled to you that he was asleep.

You stayed up for far longer than you should’ve, considering you had things to do the next day. The light pops of gunshots sounded in the distance, just like when you’d sat together on the sofa, your arms wrapped around him, trying to comfort him from the trauma that had shaken him so bad he was a husk of who you knew him to be. You tried to ignore the pain in his big brown eyes but you know you didn’t do it well. That’s why you imagine he took you from behind that night. He didn’t want to see the pity laced in your big doe eyes. You didn’t exactly blame him. If he took pity on you, you wouldn’t want to stare it in the face while you tried to do everything in your power to ignore things.

When you finally fell asleep, you dreamed of those big brown eyes. They begged you to save him, peering up at you from the dirty ground in a raid gone wrong. Even in the dream, the situation felt odd, artificial. Alarm bells screaming in your head like sirens from the Search Bloc’s vehicles. You blinked and those big brown eyes turned coal black, the life gone from them, his chest covered in blood and riddled with bullet holes. Escobar’s face peered at you through a car window, his gaping maw wide opened and dripping with tar. A demon. A monstruo. Devouring blood and souls. The streets burned and smelled of sulfur in his wake, painted crimson and tasting of iron as the wails of now childless mothers pierced the air.

You woke with a gasp, the shrill ringing of your telephone quickly and mercifully pulling you from the nightmare. Javier hadn’t stirred and you felt thankful as you gingerly slid from his arms, hoping he didn’t wake with your movement. If the phone was ringing this early in the morning, it could only be one person and you didn’t want Javier knowing who that person was.

The phone continued to ring as you looked back over your shoulder at the sleeping DEA agent in your bed. You could still hear his soft snores which meant you hadn’t woken him. You let out a relieved breath and padded into the living room. The phone stopped ringing, but seconds later, it started up again.

You answered in a sharp whisper suspecting who exactly was on the other line.

“We need you back in the office,” Bill Stechner’s voice slid slimy through the headset.

You look down the hall with apprehension.

“Can’t it wait,” you hiss.

“Why? You don’t have a man with you, do you?”

Your eyes narrow. “And if I do?”

“Informant?”

“None of your business,” you snap.

But he doesn’t listen to you. Of course he doesn’t. You’ve worked with the man for five years both directly and indirectly. You know him better than he thinks you do. It’s a power. It’s also a curse.

“What did he give you?”

You sigh, your voice still a sharp whisper as you speak, praying to a God you know doesn’t exist that Javier will just stay asleep. “Something went down tonight. Escobar’s child spotters. I’m sure the news will eat it up, whatever it is.”

The line went ominously quiet. “Carillo, the son of a bitch.”

Your heart pounded in your ears. Maybe your nightmares hadn’t been too far off. The thought chilled you to your core. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, pain pluming sharply under your sternum and radiating out into your ribcage. Your gaze focuses down the hall again.

“What do you know?”

Stechner’s voice sounded exhausted when he spoke again. “There’s about to be a shit storm, agent. You better not be stuck in the middle.”

You turned your back on the hallway, pinching the bridge of your nose in the hopes of warding off the impending headache you felt beginning to throb at the base of your skull and down your neck. And it had absolutely nothing to do with the other aches beginning to twinge in your muscles.

“It’s a bit too late for that, Stechner,” you uttered through a long suffering sigh.

The truth was, he’d put you in the damn middle when you stuck you in that brothel, but it wasn’t like you didn’t ask for it. You wanted to be there in Medellin. You wanted a piece of the action. You’d packed up your tiny little New York apartment and left the New York field office for Colombia as soon as the position opened up. Now you are beginning to regret it.

“Stechner?” You heard Javier’s sleep honeyed voice behind you.

Fuck.

“I’ll have to call you back,” you utter into the phone. You don’t even give Stechner the time to answer and if he had, you wouldn’t have listened to him.

Every curse under that you knew in both English and Spanish ripped through your mind as Javier stood there, those big brown eyes trained dangerously on you. You expected this day was coming, you just didn’t expect it to come so soon. The intense feeling of dread spread through your body, sliding down your limbs and making them feel heavy and immovable.

“Javi–”

“Who the fuck are you?”

He wasted no time, did he? You swallow thickly and take a step toward him. He quickly steps back evading your touch. A sharp pang of sadness shoots through you. You try not to think about it, but you can’t help it. He drowns in you and your body so readily, and now you feel the shift between you, the wall flying up between the two of you. That wall didn’t make it hurt any less. In fact, it made everything hurt more, that pain that’d started underneath your sternum and radiated through your chest cavity finally settled sharply in the pit of your stomach. You felt the remnants of your lunch lurching in your throat. You swallowed it down.

“Javi–”

“No. You don’t get to call me that. Who the fuck are you?”

You shake your head, echoing all too familiar words from the night before. “You don’t want to know, mi vida."

The endearment slipped from your lips before you could stop it. You both wince, but you’re sure he winces even more.

“You work for Stechner, is that it? What are you, his spy?”

You shake your head but it’s a lie. You resign yourself to the inevitable. You knew you would destroy him in the end, the consequences of your actions culminated in a bruised soul and a man destroyed in ways you knew you’d never be able to fix.

“Yes,” you couldn’t lie to him, not after having lied for too long. That cat was out of the bag and she wasn’t about to try to put it back in. “If it makes you feel any better,” you begin again, quietly, “He told me to stay away from you.”

“No, that doesn’t make me feel any better."

Another wince shudders through her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t– I didn’t know how to tell you. I couldn’t tell you.”

“No, you were just going to let me find out the hard way.”

“Javier, I didn’t have a choice. I started this job a long time ago. Just like you. We made our choices.”

“But you could have told me.” You’re surprised when he sounds hurt as opposed to angry.

You take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. This could be worse. You’d rather he be angry. You’d rather he yell at you. You’d rather he rant and rave and tell you what he really thinks about you. But you know that isn’t really who he is. Not when it comes to personal relationships. You know he’s gotten angry with contacts. You know it’s not out of the realm of possibility, but this…this feels different and you hate every moment of it.

“How? How could I tell you?”

He just shakes his head, his body still save for the soft heaves of his chest as he breathes.

“I don’t know. You just should’ve told me.”

“If I told you, would you have done anything different? Would it have made a difference? You’d still have fucked me over.”

“I’m just doing my job. Same as you. You can’t have thought any of this meant anything. You’re lying to yourself if you did.”

His eyes narrow, turning cold and hard. There’s the Javi you’ve heard about. There’s the harshness that bleeds into every single part of him. Your superiors are more familiar with this Javier. It’s why Stechner had told you to stay away from him. It’s why you’d ignored him the first time he’d visited the brothel. It’s why when the girls had seen him, you let them go first because you knew… you knew he’d be trouble.

Turns out, you were the one who was trouble. It hit you like a freight train. You took a deep breath to steady your pounding heart.

“Fuck you.”

“You already have,” you spit viciously, instantly regretting when it all falls from your lips.

“Obviously a mistake.” He growls, turning to grab his jacket, knocking over the precarious coat rack.

“You didn’t regret it for a moment, and you know it,” you say as you follow him, egging him on.

He spins to face you and you stop just in time before you crash into him. “Don’t tell me what I do and don’t do. You don’t know me well enough for that.”

“I know you more than you know yourself.”

The second fuck you easily fell from his lips and you growled in annoyance, echoed only by him as he stalked through your house to the door.

“Stay the hell out of my way,” he snaps before he leaves, slamming the door behind him.

“With pleasure,” you mutter even though he’s already gone.

The only problem was–you didn’t want to stay away from him, and you had a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t want to stay away from you either. You sigh and flop down onto the sofa, raking your hands through your hair. You have a feeling you’ll never get over him, and damn him all to hell for that.

Damn him.

#javier peña #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fic #javier pena x reader #javier peña x you #narcos #narcos fanfic #narcos fic #sam writes #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #fanfiction

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blackfawn · 8 months

Text

Irondad and Spiderson Time travel fic I wrote at 22:53 Be warned, it's angsty.

During the battle of endgame, Peter is the one to use the gauntlet. Time-travel hijinks ensue.

*EDIT I fixed it! Read here it on ao3*

It lands in front of him, and he just. Grabs it. hellhounds are hot on his heels, so he runs.

There's chaos and death all around him, allies being cut down like bad weeds. Everyone he knows is far away, and he can't find Tony. The gauntlet is in his hands, thrumming with cosmic energy that makes his spider sense scream. He can feel its power. It sets his skin abuzz, and he knows he can stop this.

He slips it on, and he hears someone shout in the distance. He thinks of all the lives that will be taken if Thanos wins, and he refuses to allow it. The Titan sees him, and they both stare at each other. Peter snaps his fingers, and he's immediately consumed by ridiculous amounts of untold power, coursing through his veins like fire.

His mind screams, and he almost can't resist the knee-jerk reaction to tear the gauntlet off.

He grinds his teeth hard and drags his mind back from the depths of the pain and focuses on one single thought. Destroy Thanos and his army.

The air whines and trembles, his heart roaring in his ears like a drum as the essence of the stones wraps around him with incomprehensible power and surges outwards faster than light in a deafening shriek.

He doesn't have to look around to know it worked. He can feel it in the way every atom in his body screams in unison. It feels like he's being shredded on a molecular level.

He distantly notices that the noise has stopped all around him. There's a pressure in his ears, and he vaguely understands that it's his hearing that's gone.

His knees hit the ground, and he's suddenly hit by how tired he is. He can rest now, surely? Now that Thanos is gone. He just needs to catch his breath.

Tony's mind is a whirlwind of determination as he fights with every ounce of strength he has. All his years as Ironman, as an Avenger, are dragged back to the forefront of his mind as the hellish creatures race from Thanos's ship. He sees Pepper and Rhodey handling themselves and some of the anxiety loosens. He focuses on killing every creature he can, fighting his way closer to Thanos so they can finally end this.

The kid's here somewhere, and that knowledge brings the anxiety back tenfold.

Peter hadn't aged a day. He'd almost tripped and fell flat on his face as he stumbled and pulled the kid into his arms.

In that moment, everything was right again. His kid was back, and the world was whole.

When the screeching faceless creatures, he's about to blast, turns to dust in his hand, alarm bells ring in his head. Everyone looks around as Thanos's army disappears, but Tony's eyes are darting around trying to spot a familiar figure in red and blue. The wizard's warning is ringing in his head, and he can't see Peter. Where is he. Where is my kid.

There's a circle of people standing. He spots Rogers, and when he catches the expression on the man's face, he blasts the suit’s engines at full speed. Something is wrong, and the closer he gets, the more he has a sick feeling in his gut that it's the reason why he hasn't seen Peter.

When he sees him. Tony screams. His thoughts are a constant stream of nononono, not by son, not my kid, not Peter.

He steps out of the suit and falls to his knees and Peter-

Peter smiles at him. Tony swallows down the sobs that fight to claw their way out of his throat and smiles back.

God, his face. Half of Peter's face is charred and black. The other half is drained of all color, his normally warm cheeks now a dull grey.

Tony cups the good side of Peter's face with a shaking hand swipes his thumb over his cheek. He can't imagine the pain-Tony swallows thickly and pushes it out of his mind. Peter needs him. He can break down later.

He feels the eyes of the people gathered around them, and he doesn't care if they can see the tears streaming down his face. All he can see is the burnt face of his son, staring through him with vacant eyes.

Carefully, he brushes what curls aren't burnt out of his son's eyes. A sob catches in his throat, and then Pepper is at his side. He sucks in a shaky breath, willing himself to take some of her strength and push through.

Tony tells Peter how proud he is. He tells him about his sister, how much she loves him, and that he's her favorite hero in the whole world.

As Peter wheezes for air, dying before his eyes, he says everything he wishes he'd said sooner. Tony takes Peter's unharmed hand in his and tells him how brave and beautiful and perfect he is.

When Peter opens his mouth and can only manage to let out a croak, he hushes him gently.

"Shh, don't speak. It's okay, Pete". He says, knowing it's the furthest thing possible from okay. "You did it, underoos. We won, we won, Pete-"

He can't. His voice catches, and he can feel himself shattering irreparably. Rhodey clasps his shoulder. It gives him the strength he needs.

Tony leans forward and kisses Peter's head, cradling the back of his head. He carefully pulls him against his chest and starts rocking them back and forth, unable to hold his grief back anymore. He cries in Peter's hair.

Tony almost misses the weak squeeze to his hand. He feels Peter's lips move against his neck, and he strains to hear the shaky whisper.

"Love you, dad."

His heart jumps and bleeds. How long had he dreamt of hearing those words? And now the universe gives him his wish in the most twisted way possible.

"I love you too, Pete. God, I should have said it before. I love you so much. So much, I missed you underoos. Every day." Tony says, hating himself for not having the spine to say it sooner. So much time wasted, dancing around the obvious. Tony fucking loves the kid. And he's about to lose him forever.

Peter gasps. Tony's heart stutters at the wet, agonized sound it makes.

"M-May...tell her...'m 'orry."

Tony swears he'll tell her. He smiles and tells him how proud she'll be of him.

Peter is fading like a candle in the breeze. Tony rocks them, silently begging anyone who will listen not to take him. He's too young, too bright to be taken so soon.

But he knows what Peter needs him to say. So he forces the words he never wanted to speak out of his mouth in what he hopes is an even voice.

"It's okay, Peter. You can rest, kiddo. We'll be okay. You can sleep, bambino. I'm right here. Dad-Dad's got you."

And Peter does. His eyes are so heavy, and when Tony tells him it’s okay, he lets them fall shut. He's just so tired. And Tony's heart is steady and strong enough that he can hear it through the fog in his mind. He can rest like this in his dad's arms.

The last thing he hears is Tony's cracking voice telling him he loved him before everything fades into nothing.

The battlefield is silent with the exception of Tony's hoarse pleading and crying.

"No, no! Please, please, he's just a kid. He's just a fucking kid! Open your eyes, please, Pete, look at me. Look at me, kiddo, I'm right here-I'm here I've got you, just open your eyespleaseplease-Rhodey, god, he can't be dead. He has to go home. He was supposed to come home."

The Avengers watch the tragedy unfolding before then with mournful eyes. The wakandians give their solemn respect. T'challa looks at the boy, so much like his sister and promises to take the tales of his heroic deed back to Wakanda, The Guardians following soon after, vowing to spread the word into the depths of space. Only Nebula stops to hug Tony.

She offers the closest she can to words of comfort. "He would have grown into an exceptional warrior, Stark."

Eventually, Rhodey has to pull Tony off his kid's-his nephew's body.

Tony kicks and screams and cusses, letting out the most gut-wrenching howls as he does.

The heroes still standing on the battlefield look on with somber and pitying looks.

They return to earth, and Tony goes through the motions. He receives a stream of condolences until he mutes his notifications.

He hates it. He wants to scream and break things. Because he doesn't want to win if it's like this.

Peace isn't worth losing my son.

Yet here we are.

The world learns about Peter's sacrifice. They'll never forget that Tony's son saved the world. He'll make sure of it if it's the last thing he does. Morgan will always know how brave her brother was.

The letters and flowers never stop coming, even months after the fact. Tony and Pepper read them together. Every year, the mail comes pouring in. Parents, children, all thanking Peter for his sacrifice, sharing their stories with Tony. It helps. He feels like Peter would be happy to read these, to know how many families he reunited. They put up the drawings they receive in Peter's room. The room he never got to see.

Eventually, years later the pain gets easier to carry. Tony refuses to let his grief destroy him. Peter is gone, but Morgan and Pepper need him.

They raise Morgan with the memories of her brother, Happy and Ned and MJ all stay close in touch, reuniting for holidays and Peter's birthday to reminisce.

Tony will never stop believing it should have been him, but when he sees Morgan, all grown up and off to college, he can't help but be thankful he gets to see it. And sometimes, when they're all together, alive, and well, he swears he can feel Peter with them.

~~~~~~~~~

Countless universes and timelines away, Peter opens his eyes, alive and confused, decidedly not dying in Tony's arms on Titan.

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harus-simp · 2 years

Text

Love is in the air

-Haruto x reader-

Warning: pure fluff

Word count: 780 approx.

You and Haruto have been friends for a while but there's something in his eyes that just brightens your face every time you see him.

Waking up in the comfort of your bed is the best feeling you could have in the morning,your alarm clock ringing in the distance as you start to fall again into a deep slumber. Wait...Alarm? Fuck. You were running late to classes again. Damn this is the third time this week y/n.

As fast as you can you get dressed, eat a single toast and head to your school as fast as your legs allow you. Bumping with everyone who crosses your way and apologising for it immediately you make your way into the entrance realising that you are actually on time. You slow down and breathe for a moment taking a little break. But you are startled since you feel yourself being hugged from behind by certain someone.

"Ahhhhh" you scream

"Woah woah easy there, it's just me"

"Oh it's just you..."

"Hey! What do you mean? It's THE Haruto" he says sassily.

Yep that's your best friend, Haruto Maeda, aka your crush for the last two years. He's one of the sweetest, funniest and kindest people you know. There's just this aura around him that you find mesmerising and his eyes seem to sparkle every time he's speaking.

"Hahahahaha don't be silly Haru!"you say

He smiles at you kinda mocking you as you make your way through the corridors to your class.

There you both part ways as you don't share any subjects that day.

"Well see you later boo" he says "Later" you respond

Hours went by veeeeeery slowly, prolonging your boredom for longer and longer. Until the bell ranged and you could finally be free.

You straightly went to the entrance where you always meet with Haruto, and as you approach you see him waiting kind of nervously? Your Haru getting nervous? Well that's new... You finally get to him and all his possible nerves were nowhere to be seen.

"Hey" "Hey, is all good?"

"Yeah...so are you free this evening?"

You almost choked yourself to his question. Is not that you guys don't hang out, it's just you where genuinely surprised by the spontaneity of it.

"I am actually, don't have any plans with the theatre class.

"How about movie night at mine's?"

"Sounds great! I'll be there by 5?"

"Yeah sure"

You both start chatting and you eventually separate ways as your houses are in opposite directions.

When the time arrives you found yourself at Haruto's house which now that you think of it, you've never been to. Your butterflies making their obvious presence in your stomach as you wish this was an official date.

You both start doing your own thing, fighting for choosing the movie, playing background music, dancing, ordering food as cooking would come with a really bad result,etc.

You both finally sit down to watch the movie, but just keep on making silly comments and making a fool of yourselves.

And then...silence...abrupt silence surrounds you both. You turn around to find him already looking at you,curious of his behaviour you start questioning him." What, is there something on my fa-"

You are suddenly blocked by a soft pair of lips kissing you tenderly and with such sweetness you might get diabetes from it. Too stunned to do anything you remain in the same position making him regret his actions and start to pull away.Until you finally react and pursue his lips in search of more. You kiss him back with the same care and passion he put into the other one making it such a romantic and pretty moment between you two. He sneaks his arms around your waist as you put your arms around his neck enjoying every moment of it.

You both pull away due to the lack of air and stare at each other completely fascinated until Haruto breaks the silence and your heavy breathing. "Sorry y/n, I couldn't help myself when you look like that"

"Don't be, I enjoyed it very much and I've actually been meaning to confess for a long time but I guess you got ahead haha".

He looked at you with those sweet and sparkling eyes you love so much and you get lost in so easily.

"I love you"

" あいしてる "

The way his smile got bigger gave you a tingling sensation that no one else could ever give you.

"Would you go out with me?"

"Gladly"

And you both spent the rest of the night cuddling and spending quality time as a new born couple.

°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°◇°

あいしてる (ai shiteru) = I love you

#boys planet #boys planet fanfics #haruto #haruto maeda #fluff #kpop #boys planet drabbles #sassy king #💅💅💅

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cursedcola · 2 years

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Hello! Congratulations on 1000 followers! It's always so nice to see creators get the recognition they deserve.

I was wondering if I could request prompt 77. "It's an honor just to know you like this." With Silver?

Thank you so much, and once again, congratulations! :)

Prompt #77: “It’s an honor just to know you like this”

Character: Silver

Have you ever felt that someone was watching you? It’s odd how people have a sixth sense for that kind of thing. The saying ‘eyes like daggers,’ is born from truth, as a stare from afar can be just as noticeable as a hand on the shoulder.

Which is why Silver is not surprised when you turn from your conversation and wave to those at his table. He might have returned the gesture if Malleus had not beat him to it.

The process repeats the next day.

And the next.

And the following.

And the one after that too.

It keeps repeating. Where he cannot help but stare at you from afar. In the dining hall, in the library, in the walkways, the lecture hall - everywhere. His eyes trace you in the distance until your sixth sense activates and turn his way. Only to smile and wave at his young lord. Utterly unaware that the eyes you often felt came in pairs of two instead of one.

Your smile was not for him, and he could not pretend it was. His liege - the one he owed his life - was utterly infatuated with you; and why wouldn’t he be? If anyone was to be at Malleus’ side, Silver knows that you are worthy. You will treat Malleus with the love he craves, the attention he deserves, with both the kindness and strength he has seen time and time again since you arrived in Twisted Wonderland.

He can think of no one better for his liege and future king. His resolve only solidifies as the days go by and the love between you both becomes undeniable. On the eve of your first kiss, Malleus returned to the dorms utterly entranced. None had ever seen him so happy, and that night Silver truly accepted what could never become.

His chest ached throughout the night and into the following day.

Instead of staring from across a distance, you clung closer than ever before. Merely cutlery and a table divided Silver from your side, as you happily enjoyed your breakfast next to Malleus.

Silver could not help but watch you for the first time up close. From the curve of your lips, poorly suppressing a laugh at one of his father’s jokes, to the way you twirl your fork in between bites.

To his surprise, for the first and likely last time, you turned to wave at him. The feeling sent an unfamiliar jolt in his stomach, briefly wiping his normal impassive expression away in alarm.

“Silver? What’s wrong?”

Your voice screamed alarm bells, and caught the attention of his family. At Silver’s side, his father studies his son intently and steadies him with one hand.

“Nothing,” Silver gathers himself and picks up his fork,” “I was struggling to think of a proper congratulations…thank you for taking care of Master Malleus. He…we, are lucky to have you,”

“What? That’s it?,” you giggle, and his chest pulsates, “you’re so weird. I don’t know why you said it that way but I’m glad to be your friend too, dummy,”

His heart throbs harder and the air feels hard to breath. Silver has never experienced a pain like this before; and yet, deep down he knows it will never end. His master must remain his top priority, and as for you? Well, so long as you are happy then that is enough. It has to be enough.

“Indeed…It is an honor to know you just like this,”

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #silver x reader #twisted wonderland silver #twst silver x reader #twst silver #diasomnia #1000 follower special

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tonguetiedraven · 2 years

Note

I love your “Ryuuji calming Rin post battle” fic! Now, riddle me this….Rin calming Ryuuji who got pissed and protective or something. 💚

I'm doubling up for this one, and @marble-wolf helped me write it <3 Also, if you want another slightly longer 'Rin calms Ryuuji' fix, check out this fic

I'm glad you like my stories <3

-- -- -- -- --

Ryuuji caught a glimpse of feathers as the kotengu attempted its escape with the kartika. The sacred weapon was far too powerful to let be stolen, let alone by something as vile as a kotengu. He’d chase after the demon to protect the village children, but when it was armed with an artifact from his temple, and one that had the ability to sever all connections to all material bonds.

All. Life and souls or anything else. In the hands of a vile kotengu, he couldn’t imagine the damage that could be done.

He called the warning as he chased after it, running from the deepest chambers of the Kaen-ji temple and rushing to the darkening forest, eyes on the distant shape of the clumsily flying demon. The warning bells rang out around him, and the bird demon disappeared into the trees.

They’d never catch him in the forest. Not quickly enough. Not when it had already kidnapped children.

The naga could track, but they’d be slowed looking at the tree tops, but thankfully, Ryuuji had another option for that. He ran as hard as he could, calling out for his boyfriend as he dashed into the dark forest with his gun and beads drawn. He didn't have to look around to see if Rin could hear or worry if his boyfriend would come.

Sure enough, Rin almost instantly appeared at Ryuuji's side. He hadn't been far and it was easy to hear Ryuuji's voice even among the alarms and other voices shouting. Ryuuji's eyes were locked on where the demon had disappeared.

Rin shot forward into the trees, using his nose to track the foul stench of the demon. He bared his fangs, trying to stay in Ryuuji's line of sight, but then the kotengu demon (as he had heard it called) was above him in the trees. He jumped up, climbing between the branches and caught the demon's leg and yanked it to the forest floor.

Ryuuji followed after, shouting a call to whoever else was near that Rin had the demon. He pulled his gun up, focusing on the sights and trying to get a clean shot past Rin and the leaves overhead. Always harder with how quick and efficiently Rin moved. He couldn't afford to hit the kartika either.

Rin shoved the demon down, drawing back to condense his flames into his sword and swung. His flames were already devouring the kotengu's feathers, but the demon was fast, kicking off the ground to put some distance between itself and Rin.

Rin's eyes narrowed, fangs baring as he crouched to spring after it. Before the demon could get far enough away to lunge after, the demon was turning back around.

The demon was a stupid one, and was trying to rushing Rin before Rin could make his own move. It was laughing and didn't seem the least bit worried about Rin's flames, even as its feathers still smoldered from Rin's first attack.

Rin sidestepped the lunge, swiping with his sword and catching the demon across the raised arm with the weird knife in it while maintaining his balance effortlessly between the branches. The demon shrieked, but didn't seem to really register the pain as it returned the hit, narrowly missing Rin with the blade that looked like it would hurt.

Rin retreated back, listening to Ryuuji and the others closing in. He moved to give Ryuuji a clear shot to hit the demon and he realized his mistake a moment too late.

There was a second demon.

Rin had been too focused on the first and he learned about the second with a blinding agony that shot through his body, lancing up his spine like someone had shoved a white hot poker through his lower back.

He was aware of his scream, a ragged cry that dissolved into a roar. Then he was on the ground, unable to see anything but a wall of blue fire.

Ryuuji fired the shot as Rin fell, and there was another gunshot blast joining his, but he didn’t see who it was or if the second demon was hit. He knew he’d blasted the first fucker in his shoulder, but the Myōō Dharani would guarantee they didn’t get away, and he trusted his people to find the dropped dagger.

Rin’s scream and falling form had the entirety of Ryuuji’s attention. He shot forward with a horrified yell, remembering too many stories about demons dying from tail injuries or never being able to move proper again, and that it was utter agony to have your tail injured.

Ryuuji ran for all his might, feeling the thud of Rin hitting the ground like it shot through his own heart. A inferno of blue flames followed it, and Ryuuji kept running, sliding to the blood damp grass and stopping beside Rin, uncaring of the uncomfortable heat of the flames that licked at his clothes, body, and hair. They stung, but nothing caught fire and they let him pass.

“Rin?!” Ryuuji caught Rin’s wrist, his heart pounding too loudly in his chest as he sucked in a gasp of air. There was blood —far too much of it— and Rin was screaming in obvious agony.

“Yukio!”

There was no need to call him. Yukio was dropping by his side as soon as he started and reaching to roll Rin on to his side to get the pressure off his injured tail.

Rin yelped at the touch, head turning to snap at the hands as it happened. He couldn't focus on anything. His sight was void of anything that wasn't flames and black spots as his lungs stayed compressed from the force of his panted breaths and screams that didn't want to stop with every fresh shock of pain.

His tail was thrashing and flailing around the base, but the rest was crooked and bleeding, lit with flames that were roaring like a wildfire.

“Ryuuji,” Yukio grunted, barely dodging a bite from Rin, “distract him. I have to set this.”

Ryuuji nodded, gritting his teeth as he reached for Rin’s face, turning it to face him and getting a bite for his efforts, but that would heal and there wouldn’t be any lingering effects with a bit of holy water. The pain was something he could ignore. The adrenaline pumping through him and the terror had him entirely focused on the hurting blue eyes.

“Rin,” he ordered in a low tone that brooked no argument, “focus on my voice. You’re going to be okay. You need to breathe through the pain. It’s going to get worse, but Yukio is fixing it.” He kept his grip firm enough to keep Rin’s eyes on him, but it wasn’t like Rin couldn’t break out of any grip if he wanted to.

The flames around them roared higher, and there were a few worried calls of his name. He ignored them and focused on Rin. (Did they think Rin would really hurt him? What a strange thought. Rin had never really hurt him. Even this bite was nothing.)

“Can you hear me? Just focus on your breathing.”

Rin had learned to listen when Ryuuji used that tone of voice and even in the fog of agony, he was searching for his boyfriend over the roaring in his head. His hearing was muffled and his heart was thundering in his chest, but he still opened his eyes to see Ryuuji. Steady and confident and calling to Rin.

Something was touching his tail (Yukio, his muddled mind provided) and he was swiping out with sharp claws to make the pain stop. The flames shot higher and were brushing the trees as he tried to roll away. His bottom half felt numb and horrifically painful in his spine where his tail met his back and he wasn't able to hold back the wild demon clawing to escape the pain.

“Rin,” Ryuuji cupped his boyfriend’s cheeks a bit more firmly, leaning closer and keeping his voice low and steady. The claws caught on his robe, slicing through the fabric and tangling in the kesa before they could reach something important. It hurt, but not enough to distract Ryuuji. He could clean it all later when Rin wasn’t hurting like this.

“Focus on my voice. Breathe in time with me, okay? Just keep control of your breath. Yukio’s going to make the pain stop. I promise.” He brushed his thumbs over Rin’s cheeks as he spoke, knowing it was insanely dangerous to touch a demon in so much pain, but not able to stop himself when it was Rin in pain.

He needed to give Rin something to focus on, and his boyfriend was always commenting about how he liked Ryuuji’s voice, so voice it was. He leaned closer so he would fill Rin’s entire vision (he didn’t need looking over and seeing Yukio’s bloody hands) and started a low chant. It was the same one he used when they meditated together, quiet and close and serene, and hearing Rin chant it back (always slightly off) was one of Ryuuji’s favorite things.

Rin sagged, whining and snarling as he tried to quiet himself so he could listen to Ryuuji. The chants always helped him focus and it did help to have.

But then Yukio set the bones and Rin was trying to bolt away with a howl as his flames grew higher and hotter, catching the tree above him on fire.

Ryuuji hauled Rin to his chest, hissing a bit as it caused claws and teeth to tear at his skin, but not enough to make him let go. Not when it would mean Yukio having to do this all over again. Rin wouldn’t really hurt him, and he couldn’t let it get worse. He’d reached him for a second there, and he knew he could do it again.

He pulled Rin close, gritting his jaw against claws in his back, and pressed one hand against the back of Rin’s head, coaxing him to rest against Ryuuji’s shoulder as he pulled in a breath. The first words of the chant came out a bit of a growl, but the next ones were more even as he pushed past the pain.

He was going to annihilate those demons. They’d stolen children, terrorized travelers, desecrated and robbed his temple, and broken his lover’s tail. Rin was and would be in pain for days because of this, and even healing brought the risk of permanent nerve damage.

(Yukio wouldn’t let that happen. Ryuuji had to believe it would be okay. He couldn’t let Rin be hurt like that because of something he did. He should have been faster and shot it before the bastard could hurt Rin.)

Rin clung to his boyfriend, biting a mouthful of Ryuuji's robes and breathing through his nose in quick gasps. He could feel Yukio wrapping the breaks but he could actually feel his legs again and he kicked lightly at his brother, earning a growl and a scolding. The pain was fading from blinding, mind consuming agony to a duller constant throbbing that only blurred his sight a little bit.

Ryuuji kept up the chant, soothing his fingers through Rin’s white and black locks. He let his other arm loop around Rin’s waist, dangerously close to the tail, but he trusted Rin. He could feel his boyfriend’s breathing getting easier, and it had him rocking Rin a little. He switched the chant to a low murmur of reassurance, hardly paying attention to the promises and gentle declarations he was murmuring into Rin’s hair.

Yukio was working as quickly as he could, grateful for the assistance as he finished up the splint and prepared an injection that would hopefully numb the area until Rin was healed.

Rin shut his eyes, letting a soft purr escape him as he turned his head just enough to eye Yukio with a halfhearted growl. He reached back instinctively, but his hand was caught and held in a tight grip. The sting of the needle was insignificant in comparison to the rest of the pain and the medicine brought a welcome numbness.

He sighed in relief, sagging against Ryuuji before slowly straightening with a mumbled apology.

“You have nothing to apologize for, sunshine,” Ryuuji promised, nuzzling Rin’s cheek and checking with Yukio to see if it was okay now. He received a curt nod as Yukio sat back on his heels, wiping his hands off on a cloth as his expression slipped into a careful neutrality that did nothing to hide the obvious fury he was feeling to Ryuuji. (Though he was fairly certain that was just from the amount of time they’d spent together, silently fuming at some stupid injustice.)

Ryuuji was not so subtly fuming. That bastard had hurt Rin. One bullet hadn’t been enough for how vile it was. He should have used the bazooka. That monster had broken into his temple and harmed a child! The disgusting vermin shouldn’t have been allowed to set as single foot near that sacred place. It shouldn’t have touched Rin. He was going to find the damn thing’s nest and he was going to exorcise everything there. He’d cleanse every signal one of the objects and he’d return them to where they belonged. Every remnant of those demons would be wiped away.

Rin could feel the rage coming off Ryuuji, and honestly, rage was too light a term. It was thick on his scent and Rin pulled back to cradle Ryuuji's cheek. There were only a few ways to soothe that kind of anger.

"I'm okay!" Rin promised, looking back at Yukio with a happy, "Thanks!"

He stroked Ryuuji's cheek, hoping it would help calm the fire in his eyes. His own pain was distant now, and he didn't want Ryuuji upset about it any longer.

Ryuuji shook his head. Rin would heal but he wasn't okay. He was going to be feeling the ghost of that pain for ages, and the poor child was going to have a temp-taint and trauma. There was no telling how long it would be for them to heal.

"Did someone get it?" Ryuuji asked in a dangerous tone. He would exorcise it himself and wash it away from their land. He would ensure it never hurt anything again.

"Yes, sir. They're both taken care of."

Ryuuji got to his feet and picked Rin up in his arms with a stern frown. Of course the monster was already gone.

"I'll take him home," he growled, failing in his attempt to not feel the fury of everything.

Yukio stood as well and nodded. "I'll check him again in a while."

Ryuuji marched off, still failing to mask his fury.

Rin curled against Ryuuji's hold, feeling odd that he couldn't feel his tail. He always curled it around Ryuuji. It was never not on Ryuuji. But it was blessedly numb and he could only feel a slight ache in his back.

Ryuuji seemed anything but numb.

"Thank you," Rin mumbled again, nuzzling Ryuuji's shoulder and thinking over his next action. He lifted his head to check what had happened with the demon while he thought.

The exorcists were purifying the spots where the demons had been and Konekomaru was standing with his eyes on them, silently guarding them.

Rin smiled widely at his friend and nosed Ryuuji's shoulder.

"It's okay. They're dead now," Rin tried softly. It wasn't likely to work (not yet) but he'd start with it anyway.

Ryuuji nodded, not trusting his voice. They were dead but it wasn't okay. It wasn't going to be okay. The damage had been done and the scars would be there for a long time, visible or not.

His stomps were too loud, and normally Rin's weight would be all the comfort he needed to breathe again. But…

Rin was hurt and Ryuuji couldn't fight what had done it, so he couldn't release this fury through that. And it had hurt his temple and children, and there could be more. It was an endless fight and he hadn't been fast enough, and it was all done simply because that monster wanted treasure. It cared nothing for life.

Rin rubbed at the tension growing in Ryuuji's shoulder and neck, the trek back was thick with Ryuuji's tension and Rin didn't know exactly what to do for it.

He was no stranger to Ryuuji's righteous anger. A hot rage born of a seriously fucked up demon, and… as Rin knew first hand, when Rin was hurt --when any of them were hurt-- Ryuuji would get a single minded urge for making it right.

The stomp of Ryuuji's feet was much louder than his typical steps. Typically he tried to copy Rin and be silent. That and the tension...

Rin battled all of that with purrs and held Ryuuji around the neck. He wasn't great with words, but he tried anyway.

"The demons are dead" he said softly,. "Our people killed 'em. I'll be better in no time, and the kid will be okay. The temple can be patched up too. We all did it," Rin continued in a stream of soft words. He kept his face tucked against Ryuuji's head, letting his breath tickle over Ryuuji's skin. He didn't try to pull away and walk on his own (his tail still felt numb and his balance would be bad) and he kept gently kneading at Ryuuji's neck. Not telling him to calm down or let it go. Ryuuji never liked hearing that.

Rin seemed to have an endless supply of those kinds of reassurances, and no problem repeating them the entire walk to the cabin. He nuzzled and held and leaned, and his warmth and presence had Ryuuji managing a deeper breath, and then another. He brushed a kiss against Rin’s head as they walked, swearing to himself that Rin would be okay and they’d get back and he’d settle Rin in bed and bring him something to eat and drink (both necessary to help replace what healing took out) and then he’d go over every inch of his temple and enhance the defenses and spells. Nothing would go near it again.

And maybe… maybe join Rin for a non-tail-hurting cuddle.

Rin nuzzled Ryuuji's shoulder as they slipped inside the inn. He kept up his quiet reassurance and asked about the dagger, distracting Ryuuji with explaining, letting the adrenaline fade and the sharp edge of the rage ease as he got Rin comfortable in bed (careful of the tail.)

He'd get Rin to make a shield of flames at his back to prevent that in the future (though his boyfriend would probably call it something stupid like Satan's Shield,) and he'd make certain their relics were guarded against those disgusting demons.

His wrist was caught before he could leave the room, and he was made to promise he'd come back as soon as he'd taken care of the necessary business, because Rin expected cuddles and moral support for whatever horrible medicine Yukio tried to make him swallow.

Ryuuji laughed. It wasn't much of a laugh, gruff and quiet, but Rin beamed like it was the best sort of sounds, and as he left the room, Ryuuji found his breath coming easy and himself standing less rigid.

Rin happy ramble to Kuro followed him down the hall, and Rin was right. They'd done it. It was fixed for now and Ryuuji would take the steps to make sure it never happened again.

But first, something to eat and a rest with Rin.

#bonrin #ao no exorcist #blue exorcist #my tumblr fics #ryuuji suguro #ryuji suguro #rin okumura #bon suguro #bon x rin #bonfire #bonxrin #established relationship

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