#am I more afraid of death or of living another minute as a monster who fucks everything up

[sensitivegoblin]

Starting to think life is just a series of events that I fuck up

[katerina-marie]

The Tragedy of a Duality

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader and (Past) Ryomen Sukuna x Female Reader

Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3, Chp 4, Chp 5, Chp 6, Chp 7 (Final)

In the present, you are a sorcerer and the cherished wife of the Honored One. In an era long gone, remembered by only one, you were ordinarily human and the beloved bride of the King of Curses. How fitting it would be, in an evening of destruction, to have your heart torn in two.

Content: JJK Universe and Canon Events (tho tweaked to incorporate reader), Fluff, Angst, Flashbacks, Ambiguous ending, Violence, Death, Female reader but left descriptively vague, No use of y/n, True Form Sukuna in the past, Itadori Yuji is Sukuna's vessel in the present but nothing inappropriate b/n reader and Itadori as the vessel, Innuendos, Allusions to + Vaguely described sex so avoid accordingly. Will add more CW to each chapter if needed.

WC: 4.4k

A/N: A bit of a bridge chapter/transitive chapter, if you will.

Chapter 3

The distance between your village and the next largest market isn’t terribly far, but it still takes up a good portion of your morning on the best of days. When the sky begins to grey and thunder rumbles closer and closer, you know your trek is about to become even longer. The smell of wet earth and crisp air is always pleasant to you, but nothing about continuing a journey in robes that are heavy with moisture and cling uncomfortably to your skin sounds enjoyable, so you divert from the road onto a lesser traveled path. 

Sanctuary from the rain under the cover of thick trees is your only option, so you wander and weave between them, cognizant of your general location but unaware of exactly where you might be. Droplets of rain occasionally splatter against your cheek as the sky opens up, and you can hear the droll of it against the foliage above you. Thankfully, you remain mostly dry, and you continue to walk slowly and hum to yourself while waiting for the weather to turn. 

After a few minutes, you spot a bunching of trees that seem different from the rest, and upon closer inspection, excitement runs through you when you realize they bear fruit. You inspect the trail behind you and then side to side to ensure you are alone before hurrying over to one. It takes two or three attempts of you leaping from the tips of your toes before you are able to snag a pear from the lowest lying branch that is still almost beyond your reach. You rub it against your sleeve before taking a bite and relishing in the burst of sweetness on your tongue. You finish it rather quickly and are reaching for another when a voice from behind startles you. 

“Do you have a habit of stealing fruit that doesn't belong to you?” 

When you spin around, your face is contrite and your hands are held up innocently in front of your chest. You are ready to entreat the assumed owner of the land for forgiveness until your eyes fall onto who stands before you, and any logical words die in your throat. You immediately fold yourself into a bow and stare at the ground while you brace trembling hands on your thighs. 

“I beg your forgiveness, my lord.” 

Weeks ago, news of the being that usurped the ruling of the lands you live in reaches your small village. People whisper words of horror and fear about the monster that Ryomen Sukuna is. You know of his second pair of arms and the extra eyes that sit under the first ones. His size and strength set him apart from anything else, but it is his viciousness and ruthlessness that strikes terror in the hearts of anyone who goes near him. The description of him is something out of a nightmare, and the sight of him proves to you the truthfulness of what you hear. 

“You may rise,” Sukuna tells you, but you are slow to stand back up, afraid to find out what happens to those who steal from the King of Curses. You keep your eyes downcast out of respect, but you can still see the white of his robes as he stalks toward you. 

“Am I so repulsive that you cannot bear to look at me?” 

You let out a squeak of alarm and fling your eyes upwards, and you aren’t sure what to make of the interest coloring his face. 

“No, no,” you say placatingly, “that is not it all.” You pause before adding “my lord,” hastily. 

Sukuna laughs, and it is deep and dark from somewhere in his chest. He prowls nearer to you, and you gulp in trepidation. While the image he makes is as intimidating and heart-stopping as you know him to be, there is something otherworldly and enticing about him. The white fabric of his robes are edged in blue and they split open across the great expanse of his chest. You follow the black tattoos from where they trail down his jaw, loop over his shoulder and then continue down his torso. They compete with the muscles of his chest to steal your attention. 

“Tell me,” he muses, finally coming to a stop just an arms length away from you, “what brings you to my new estate?”

Your heart drops to your feet and you blanch. “Your estate?”

“The edge of it, to be exact, but yes—my estate.” 

You contemplate whether making up some pitiful excuse could earn you mercy, but the thought of getting caught in a lie and the punishment that would follow has you choosing truthfulness.

“The r-rain,” you stammer. Sukuna looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue, and you step back in wariness. He pursues you, and his feet land in the place yours had just been. “I was on my way to the market in the town north of here when it began to rain.” 

Your hands flit about in front of you before gesturing towards the sky, and you note curiously that while Sukuna’s main set of eyes follow the path of your hands, the ones lower trail over your figure before settling on your face. 

“The trees would keep me dry while I waited for it to stop, but it seems I also felt a bit hungry,” you finish, and your arms flop ineloquently back against your sides. 

In an effort to appear deferential, you quickly clasp your hands over one another in the front of your stomach and hope that Sukuna can’t see how tightly you clench the fabric of your robes between your fingers. He makes a noise in the back of his throat as he weighs your words, and you cast furtive glances over his shoulder or to your feet, anywhere that isn’t his eyes and the intensity of them. They are predatory in their observancy, and you would worry for your life if they did not trace the dip of your collarbones or linger at the curve of your bottom lip.

“How about you return with me?” he offers, and you jerk your gaze back to him. “You may wait out the rain in the comfort of my home and I will repay your company with a meal.” 

No amount of critical thinking produces a plausible answer as to why Ryomen Sukuna is inviting you to his estate. You do consider your own mortality and how vulnerable it is in his presence, though you suspect that bringing you along to his home only to kill you would be excessive and unnecessary. In a similarly frightening, but shockingly alluring alternative, Sukuna could intend to make use of your company in a more salacious and carnal manner. Or it could be as simple as sharing food with one another and filling the time with conversation, maybe giving you the opportunity to deduce a possible explanation by the end. Either choice carries with it problems and difficulties to a varying degree, but the thrill of what is not yet known urges you to acquiesce.

To maintain some sense of propriety, you pretend to ponder his request just a little longer and let your focus flit about to the scenery around you, avoiding Sukuna entirely. From the way his eyebrow quirks upwards and his hands twitch at his sides, you suppose he has caught on to your teasing. 

“I might find that agreeable,” you say, and that draws a sly smirk from him as his eyes flare wide. He moves toward you, but you hold up a hand to stop him. “However, I would like to request another pear before we leave.” 

Sukuna doesn’t say anything, but he takes two large steps forward until his chest skims yours. You tip your chin up to keep a hold of his eyes as he stretches an arm above your head. 

“Whatever you desire,” he croons, and when his hand appears again before your eyes, an unblemished green pear is trapped between his forefinger and thumb as he holds it out to you.

---

In the coming weeks, you are summoned back to Sukuna’s estate with some regularity after the first time he invited you in to ply you with food and drink while he peppered you with questions about your innocuous life. 

A being appears at your door with white hair cut short and an odd strip of red around the back. You have to come to know them as Uraume, unsettling and uninviting in their demeanor, and they hurry you out each time with nothing more than a placid remark of, “it is Sukuna-sama’s request.” 

This time, when the weather is a little warmer, you find yourself in the middle of an expansive garden. It stretches farther than your eyes can see, overflowing with abundance, and when Uraume vanishes after telling you Sukuna will arrive shortly, you take the time to study flowers and plants you are familiar with and wonder at the ones you are not. 

“Why is it no surprise that I find you enamored by common weeds?” 

Sukuna, as you have come to learn, makes no noise that alerts to his sudden appearances. His voice usually sends your heart racing and a gasp is ripped from your lips, though you gradually become used to the slight shift in energy that precedes him. As time passes, you might startle less and less, but until then, you give him an unimpressed look over your shoulder for the way he grins because he scared you, and for the mild insult.

“And why is it no surprise that you would think so lowly of them?” When he narrows his eyes at you, you smile coyly and bow your head just slightly. “My lord.” 

Sukuna is by your side and offers a hand when you begin to rise from your knees. Once you are steadied, he crosses his arms and tucks them back into his sleeves. 

“They are suitable decorations, I can admit, but that is the extent of which I appreciate them.” Sukuna lowers his head to peer into your eyes, and there is something playful and teasing lurking in them. “My interests lie in other more…invigorating pursuits.” 

You cut your gaze from him, shifting a little to be back in reach of the flowers, anything to escape the underlying insinuation of his words and the way they make you flush hot. The sun is also warm on your back, and it is anyone’s best guess as to which is responsible for the way a bead of sweat drips down your neck.

“I acknowledge your opinion, but I do not happen to share it,” you tell him. You turn your back to him completely to brush your hand over a bush of varying colors. “Some of these are medicinal. Others have a pleasant fragrance that I tend to enjoy.” 

You pause and pluck a particular flower from the bunch before facing Sukuna again. “And others simply serve no other purpose than being a beautiful sight to behold.” You lift your hand in front of his face, and cradled in your palm is a blossom the same shade of pink as his hair. 

It delights you to see the way he fights a grin, and in a move that you do not perceive as normally characteristic of him, Sukuna plucks the flower from your fingers and slots it delicately behind your ear. His hand lingers to dance over the apple of your cheek, and when his thumb catches on your bottom lip, you bat your lashes at him coquettishly. 

It is a powerful look you have discovered. The last time you pulled it from your arsenal, you had nipped a piece of fruit from Sukuna’s proffered fingers and let your teeth scratch over the joint of his knuckle. He kissed you breathless there after, and you yearn for it again now. 

It seems to be successful. Sukuna’s hands cup your jaw and tilt your head up. A second pair of arms wind around your waist to drag you against his chest, and your eyelids flutter closed on their own accord when you feel his breath whisper over your lips.

“Tempting,” he says, and a chuckle comes next. Your eyes snap back open, and he taps your mouth when it turns down into a pout. “Worry not, I have a proposition for you.” 

Your expression switches into one of inquisitive interest, and while waiting for Sukuna to continue, you twine your hands into the belt that keeps his robes tied shut. 

“Wed yourself to me.”

---

Two pairs of elaborately decorated ceremonial robes lie discarded on the floor. The storm clouds outside darken Sukuna’s bed chambers and you can hear errant drops of rain hit the ground. Your belly is still full from the celebratory feast that took place after your wedding, but now a deeper satiation makes your body languid and warm. 

You twine your arms under the pillow that cushions your head and stretch lazily against the bed. Your back is exposed to the cool air and it pricks at the drying sweat on your skin. Exhaustion is lowering your eyelids and sleep is beckoning. Before you get there, the side of the bed dips.

“Did you miss me while I was gone?” Sukuna murmurs, though it is playful and unserious. “I have returned to you now.”

A damp linen cloth drags over your lower back and legs before you can answer. You shiver at the chill it leaves, but the warmth of Sukuna’s hand follows behind to chase it away. The gentleness of it is a stark contrast to just earlier when you were under Sukuna and at his mercy to how his hands squeezed, and grasped, and kneaded your body. 

A breath of laughter escapes your nose. “How can I miss you when you were only gone for a moment?” 

Sukuna’s hands freeze and he grunts. “Cantankerous wife,” he mutters. But you smile into the pillow at the affection in his voice, and when he resumes his ministrations on your body, you let the feeling of his hands and the pattering of rain lull you into sleep. 

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

Four days pass before you see Itadori Yuji again. 

Much like the afternoon following the incident, you spend the rest of the week proctoring the training of Fushiguro and Kugisaki while Satoru keeps Itadori hidden away for whatever it is that he and Nanami have him doing. You hear bits and pieces from your two students about how Itadori seems to be faring well despite the circumstances, and that the three of them are getting along just fine. 

The scant details are enough to keep your worry mostly abated, and in the spirit of the approaching weekend, you release them from their training a couple hours early. Kugisaki is effusive in her rambles, and you barely catch whatever plans she describes as she hurries off. Fushiguro is much less excitable in his expression of gratitude and departs with a simple bow of his head. Their opposing personalities warm your chest with affection and leave you with a tranquil lightness as you head back to your shared office with Satoru (his insistence) to catch up on reports while you wait for him to finish his day’s work. 

Through the window at your back, the setting sun casts looming shadows into the room, and you have to shake yourself awake as you feel your eyes grow heavy. There is a knock at the door that breaks your concentration from the computer screen in front of you. When you look up, Itadori is standing ramrod straight in the doorway. His shoulders are tense and his eyes are wide, but the expression on his face is friendly. 

“Hello, Itadori,” you say as you lean back in the chair situated at your desk, and he waves at you. “Is everything okay?”

“Yup, everything’s fine.” Except Itadori’s voice is strained and he makes no move to step into your office, nor turn back to walk down the hall. Instead, he rocks on the balls of his feet and shoves his hands into his pockets. You purse your lips and fold your arms across your chest as you watch him expectantly. Itadori blinks back at you. 

“Is there something I can help you with?” you prompt him. Itadori shakes his head, leaving you at a loss, but this time he walks forward and sweeps his eyes across your office. He shuffles to the towering shelves on the right wall and looks closely at a couple books before meandering across the room to pick up various knick knacks you have sitting on a hutch. Your eyes follow him the entire time, and you notice how he quickly moves his focus away from various photographs of you and Satoru over the years that you have pasted on a corkboard hanging on the wall. 

With a sudden spin and jerky movements, Itadori finally comes to sit in the—in your opinion—unsightly black sofa that Satoru placed in the middle of the office and just a few feet in front of your desk so he would have something to nap on when he felt the urge. From it, all Itadori does is look at you. You glance at your computer, unsure what to do, and when the silence starts to feel awkward, you tap your nail against your thumb as you rack your brain for what to say. 

“Are you sure there isn’t anything I can help you with?” you ask. “Or if you’re not comfortable sharing with me, I’m happy to call Nanami or Satoru for you.” You’re already reaching for your phone where it sits next to you on your desk when Itadori blurts out a hasty “no!” 

Your hand freezes, and when you look back up at Itadori, he’s rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, and his knee bounces rapidly. “So, how did you and Gojo-sensei meet?” 

The question catches you off guard, and you stammer as Itadori awaits your answer. It crosses your mind that the boy might simply be lonely and looking for some company now that the school day is over, but it’s nearing evening on a Friday, and you expect him to be finding a way to celebrate the incoming weekend. Just to be certain, you raise your brows in question, and even though Itadori grimaces briefly like he wishes he could take back his request, he nods at you in encouragement. 

“Uh, well,” you start, blowing out a breath and clasping your hands together. “He and I were once students at the school here together…”

It’s not as if you haven’t heard about “the Honored One” before. You’d be hard pressed to believe that anyone in the jujutsu world could have existed presently without knowing of the infamous white-haired sorcerer. Of course you know of his talent, how he is considered the strongest, and you suppose such a title would allow for the level of arrogance he is known to carry. More so, you’ve been subjected enough to the whispered giggles and gossip from the other girls in your school to know that Gojo is—objectively, of course—as attractive as he is powerful, though you didn’t view that bit of information as anything pertinent. 

When Geto Suguru spends two months at your school that was hours and hours away from his for some assignment, you find yourself paired up with him and thus privy to the details of his life as the two of you spend time getting to know one another. You resist asking him about Gojo Satoru in an effort to preserve your dignity, but curiosity gets the best of you, and you give in just a couple of days into the partnership. To your utter shock, as the two of you are walking back to the dorms after a training session, the first thing to pop out of Geto’s mouth about his best friend is to call him a “monumental pain in my ass—affectionately, of course.” 

The words come out warmly, but they cause your jaw to drop nonetheless. Geto laughs and proceeds to tell you everything about Gojo Satoru that you have never hoped to know. He’s goofy and surprisingly awkward at times. His constant craving for sweets is borderline child-like and more akin to an addiction than a simple preference. He sometimes uses too many Digimon references in a sentence, and even Geto can’t always figure out what he means.

When the laughter dies down and the two of you stop at the doors of the dormitory, Geto’s face goes somber and his smile is weak. “Satoru can be a lot, but…he is the biggest burden to himself, and I wish it didn’t have to be that way.” 

Now, half a year later, when circumstances move you to the Tokyo school, Geto Suguru looks mildly embarrassed as he walks you through the gates of the campus. The high bones of his cheeks are mottled red, though that could be explained away by the bitterness of the winter winds, but the hand that’s not carrying one of your duffle bags squeezes at the back of his neck as he chuckles nervously. You drag a suitcase behind you, another bag slung over your shoulder, and you’re grateful that Geto was willing to greet you outside the school to help you get settled in.

“I know I already kind of warned you about him, but I promise he’s actually harmless, if not a bit overly playful.” 

“Trust me,” you say amusedly, “I remember what you told me about Gojo Satoru.” 

“Yeah, well,” Geto mutters, “it’s a whole other thing to hear about Satoru versus actually experiencing him in person for yourself.” 

You roll your eyes and are momentarily perplexed about how lovingly Geto disparages his best friend, but before you can question him about it, someone enthusiastically calls his name from across the grass, and the both of you look ahead in the direction it came from. Gojo Satoru waves erratically before breaking into a jog, and Geto turns back to you with a pointed widening of his eyes. 

You ignore him in favor of watching Gojo eat up the ground with those long legs of his, and all those details come flooding back, even the ones you didn’t care to focus on. The blue of his eyes are breathtaking and unnaturally so. His height makes him lanky, and you figure that time will fill out the rest of his stature, but it doesn’t take away from the charmingness of his boyish grin and the fact that the girls at school are right; he is handsome.

“Suguru!” he exclaims in a greeting once he comes to a stop in front of you two, and Geto nods at his friend. He turns to you next, looking down at you over the rims of his darkened sunglasses, and the smirk on his lips gives you butterflies. And, maybe, you’re a little awestruck because he really is pretty and those eyes of his are unnerving, but you don’t particularly care and—

And then Gojo Satoru opens his mouth and the bubble bursts.

“Ha! He said that?!” Itadori crows, and he throws his head back in unabashed laughter and grasps at his chest. 

You giggle along with him. “He certainly did, but luckily,” and you pause to lift your left hand and wiggle your ring finger so the metal on it gleams, “things worked out just fine.” 

Slowly, both of your laughter disappears and you each look in different directions around the room to fill the silence. The clock next to your door says it’s nearly seven, and the grumbling in your stomach has you considering leaving Satoru to fend for himself in favor of finding yourself a meal. However, Itadori doesn’t make a move to get up, so you let go of your hopes for takeout and shake your computer awake with your mouse before typing away again at your nearly complete report. You’re happy to let the boy sit in companionable quiet if that’s what he needs.

“That was a nice story,” Itadori says a few minutes later, and you are so intently focused on your work that you’re startled into remembering that he is there. “Thank you for telling it to me.” 

  His hands slap against his knees and he springs up from the sofa, and you’re stunned by his abrupt departure. He’s nearly out the door when you finally find your tongue, and the firm way you say his name has him stopping in his tracks. You wait to see if he would respond, but when he doesn’t, you repeat his name a bit more gently this time. 

“What is it?” you coax, and when he turns, his facade of unbotheredness falls, and his face is tired in its place. The sight breaks your heart a little. 

“I don’t mean to waste your time,” he says regrettably and wrings his hands together. You shake your head to reassure him as his shoulders fall dejectedly. “He wanted to see you, is all.” 

The meaning of his words don’t strike you right away, and Itadori raises a hand to tap at his temple. Understanding hits you like a truck when you realize he’s referring to Sukuna, and your mouth falls open.

“Sukuna was really adamant about it for the last couple hours. He’s finally quiet now,” he adds, “so I guess…” 

Itadori trails off with a nonchalant shrug, and you find it entirely too casual for what he just said, but he seems unrattled by the request from the being inside of him. 

“Oh,” you breathe out, stupefied and way too tired to formulate a sensible response or thought. “Well, uh…okay?” 

The laugh that makes its way out of your mouth is a touch disbelieving and maybe a little unhinged, but it pulls a bigger smile out of Itadori, and he uses a hand to gesture vaguely over his shoulder as he begins to take a couple steps backwards towards the door. 

“I’m going to go find Fushiguro and Kugisaki,” he tells you. “I’ll see you and Gojo-sensei next week!” 

Now that you can see the tension has left his body and he appears lighter in mind and spirit, you’re content to return Itadori’s wave of goodbye as he hurries out the door. Once you hear his footsteps fade down the hall, you slump back in your chair and throw an arm over your eyes. 

The King of Curses had wanted to see you, even if only through the eyes of his vessel, so much so that it seems he was willing to pester him into doing his bidding until Itdaori finally relented.

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

A/N: Chapter count got upped by one, but it should still all come out in a timely manner. We'll get a part 2 to the Reader/Gojo flashback in the next chapter :)

Taglist (open): @kalopsia-flaneur

[nobodysdaydreams]

I FINISHED SEASON 1 OF WOLF359 AND THIS IS NOT OKAY (Reaction to Episodes 11-13, plus mini episode 1)

So basic info on the tags and how to follow my reactions below, but I'm honestly too emotional to type much more than that. What the heck was even that? I gotta get going, so I'll let past Bods of a few minutes ago do the talking under the "Keep Reading Button" but YIKES this was a LOT.

I currently have Wolf359 Tags blocked to avoid spoilers and will try my best to react blindly. I also made this meme to describe my recent feelings.

Tagging the mutuals who got me invested in this, and if you want to be tagged or untagged from these posts, lmk, or you can follow my blog or simply follow the tag "#bods wolf359 reactions". Anyone who has followed me for a while knows my updates are inconsistent, so I apologize in advance for that.

@sophieswundergarten @oflightningandstars @acollectionofcuriousreblogs

So for these last few episodes, I'm just gonna live react since I have the time to sit down. Sorry for inconsistent formatting.

Episode 11: Am I Alone Now?

Um... Hilbert? A grey door where no one ever goes??? Well...where does it go? "Open in Emergency When You're Alone"... what does that mean?

Oh the joke about the genie. I've heard this one before: "I wish my friends were back with me". Yep, that's it.

Wait. Wait. Is that what the door does? Does it somehow...bring them back? What is this metaphor trying to suggest? Or...does it only make you think they're back? So that you don't go crazy? Or is it a door that leads outside the ship? Like...a door that gives you the option to, for lack of a better word, "give up" if the others die and you're left alone in space? Because that would also be dark.

Okay, Hilbert, I agree, fear can be adaptive. Uh, not sure about the gun and war thing, that's not exactly what I meant...wait bombs? Hilbert, no, you SHOULD be afraid of yourself.

Working on the fear of death? Uh...Hilbert? Are you uh...working on reanimating corpses in space, because that sounds like a bad idea to me.

"Alone should be afraid of us instead there is a door incase I am ever alone." Well what about the others?

I agree Hilbert, alone can be a good time to focus, but I gotta say, not sure I like how you're spending your valuable alone time.

"The scary part is the part of your mind that whispers back: how can you be sure?".

Oh. Now what's interesting about that quote is that in the "Alone should be afraid of us" sentence it personifies alone. The only way to really be comfortable being alone is if you are confident that you are stronger than whatever might be there if you aren't alone. But how can you ever know 100% that you are stronger than the unknown? Also there are sound effects that sound like someone moving about. Don't like that.

Is it Blessie?

"Someone must think they are alone when they are not, there must be monsters underneath someone's bed". Okay, Hilbert, clearly going for the creepy quote of the episode award.

Why is there knocking?

Uh...Empty Man?

Um...why is WHO here Hilbert? What other missions???? Was Hilbert on another mission? Hello???? Hilbert? EXPLAIN????

"You weren't here last time, but now you are here waiting for the day, open in case of emergency, open only when you are alone."

Does the empty man want them to open the door? When they think he's not around? Why?

Uh...I don't think that joke is very funny Hilbert. And no, I'm not laughing, you're dodging my questions.

Oh now we're onto Hera. I like this. We see a lot of Doug alone but not the others.

Yeah, Hera you should NOT trust the code Hilbert gives you. I wouldn't be surprised if he's experimenting on you too.

HERA. WHAT DO YOU "SENSE UNSEEN?" And yeah...Hera I know how programming works. If I don't unblock the wolf359 tag, tumblr.com isn't gonna just show me wolf359 posts, or tell me "hey here's one you should look at". But let's just say, hypothetically, that one of my mutuals draws some wolf359 season 1 fan art that doesn't spoil anything for me. Then I would trust that they might message me, and tell me that it's okay to view their wonderful art, but I won't know that unless they tell me because the tag is blocked. Not the best metaphor, but the point still stands, Hera I guess you don't HAVE to tell them about the "empty man" roaming the ship unless they ask you for that information. But as their friend, you probably should. What motivation would you have for hiding this? Hera seems to have very human attributes in terms of her ability to have social connections. She also seems to care about them to some degree. At least, she seems fond of Doug and has some tension with Mincowski and Hilbert. She's pretending to talk to Doug, which is a very human thing to do.

Ah yes. Good for you for finding loopholes in your programming Hera. I like riddles too. But...what exactly are you going to do with these riddle answers you've acquired? Are you going to help the rest of the crew? Blessie? The empty man? Or do you have your own agenda?

"Somedays I wonder if I'll miss you after you go away forever Doug." Aw, Hera. 🥺.

"I doubt it". No, I think you will Hera. The fact that you, a robot, are even wondering about missing Doug makes me think you will. Especially since you could, theoretically, live until the heat death of the universe, which is a very long time to be alone.

Wait. WAIT. The storm is happening on a part of the spectrum that their minds can't process...is that what the empty man is? Is that why they can't see him? But Hera can't see it either so her programming must either not be able to see it or it's being blocked. But weirdly enough, only visually it seems. Huh.

Hera seems frustrated with humanity, but also seems to care about them, maybe envy them a little bit. I love this level of complexity with her. "Once the game is over, I'll come up with some names for these colors." Yikes, Sophie, when you said that I was writing the Whisperer very similarly to Hera, I didn't realize it was gonna be that spot on, but okay, especially with her calling this a “game”. It’s kinda like a darker version of what I’m writing or at least, it seems to be leaning darker, probably because it’s adult media. It also makes me wonder who Hera's creator is and what they want, or maybe that just doesn't matter in this story.

"Someday. After you've all gone away..." Um. Hera. Did you open the door?

Or are you the genie in this metaphor?

Ah now we're with Doug.

INCINERATED? What sort of psych evaluation is this? And these questions are NOT standardized for space. When coming up with psych evaluation materials, you need context. Answers that are normal in a warzone or in space are not normal in everyday life.

WHY IS HE SEARCHING FOR ALIEN LIFE IF HE DOESN'T WANT TO BE HERE? Doug, I know pizza hut might not be paying much, but you gotta follow your passion, and this clearly isn't it.

10 things you miss about earth and not one person? No one? No family? No friends?

"Great listener"/"I empathize too much" ok Doug.

Hm. Not too sure about Doug's answers. Honesty is only overrated when you're not the one being lied to Doug.

It also makes me wonder what you really miss about Earth.

Wait. Mission = Punishment? Spaceship = Prison? Is Doug...are they...are they doing this because they are completing a criminal sentence? If so, I can see how Hilbert and Mincowski got assigned to this as a punishment, they have science and military backgrounds, but what on Earth is Doug's story? "He was a former tech genius kid who burnt out got into drugs and alcohol, worked at pizza hut, did a crime, and now they sent him to space?" And since when do space missions fulfill court mandated community service? Also Doug I think technically has arms training, because if I recall correctly, Mincowski gave him a gun but refused to give one to Hilbert. Like...who are you Doug? What is your deal?

Alone...again. Yeah, just Doug and the voices in his head. Forgot about those. There's a lot to keep track of for a small cast of characters.

Let's do a quick run down before we hear from the commander:

Doug Eiffel- former pizza hut employee, no family/friends to speak of, possibly serving prison sentence, apparently knows how to use a gun and a lot about communications

Dr. Hilbert- doing VERY unethical space experiments, sees himself as a genius despite being a huge liability whose mind was nearly over taken by a killer plant. Obviously knows SOMETHING the others don't, so I don't trust him or his spinal fluid stealing ways.

Commander Mincowski- stereotypical by the books commander, I like her, but she also has a ton of unanswered questions and vague backstory so ???

Hera- seems nice, I wish people treated her better but also clearly keeping secrets from the others including Doug who is her friend so Hera what are you doing?

Percival The Plant aka. "Percy" aka. The Blessed Eternal aka. "Percival B. Eternal" aka. "Blessie" aka "Specimen 34"- a plant that thinks of itself as a god. Where did it come from? Even if it did take over the ship, what is it's plan? No one knows.

The Empty Man???- may or may not exist, seems to be off the visible spectrum even for robots and AI. He's hungry or as the messages put it "the empty man hungers" and that's about all we know about him. What we don't know is what his food source is, and I find that rather troubling. Maybe Doug can make him some pizza. Oh, and one other thing: he knocks. Which...is surprisingly courteous behavior from a dangerous man that can't be seen. But why would they open the door for him, unless...oh. Unless they are so desperate not to be alone that they embrace the empty man. But like...how would that even...I don't even know. Also apparently the empty man was asleep, because the first message said he'd awoken. Awoken from what? Hyper sleep? Was he in the box? Apparently he can see them even if he can't be seen, and I don't like that.

The voices in Doug's head- they say "he's not the first". Which is kind of crazy, because Dr. Hilbert was talking about "other missions". So um...what other missions? Who are the others? Who are the voices? Is something being transmitted into Douglas' head?

Captain Lovelace and that scientist lady (don't remember her name) from the sealed off lab- are they still alive? Were they on a previous mission? Why did they want to make spiders bigger? What was the point of these experiments? I SWEAR I saw people posting about Lovelace before I blocked the tag, which makes me think she's important.

The Spiders- presumed dead. Let's hope so.

The thing in the box- weird that the box was 953, which is 359 backwards. Weird that it had a heartbeat. Weird that it was labelled "for Doug Eiffel" with no other information. Odd that there were so many other seemingly nonsensical boxes in that room.

Whoever sent the “Empty Man” messages. Because I’m starting to suspect it might not have been command and there might not have been a psychological experiment. Which means the messages were meant for someone, but whoever sent them didn't want the others to know about it. ...but who were the messages for? Hilbert? Hera? Hilbert? ...Blessie???

Whoever sent that jazz music earlier. It's good music, but why?

Also important to note that multiple characters on this list might be the same people, people pretending to be the same people, or different versions of the same character due to cloning or time travel experiments thanks to weird space magic and also Dr. Hilbert.

Now let's here from the captain.

I um...I wouldn't call the talent show a success. Dr. Hilbert didn't get to make the ice cream! We never even got to find out what everyone's favorite flavor was 😥

3 minutes. Okay. Let's see what Captain Mincowski says.

I wonder who she's talking to.

Yeah, the plant being, it's weird that that's not a priority here, I agree Captain.

Huh. The weather is weird. VERY weird that Hilbert is ignoring it, and VERY weird that he has human tissues samples and jars with dead things after giving a monologue about trying to conquer death. Don't like that one little bit.

Soap? Hilbert you need to get better at lying. And yeah, captain given that he's talking about "other missions", I think he might have been lying for longer than anyone realizes...

Things moving around and turning up in odd places...it seems the empty man and Blessie (one of the two) enjoy furniture rearranging...yeah I do think there's more than the three of you, my list had at least 10 with some possible overlap.

I'm sorry what. The station changes? THE DOOR TO A SECTION JUST VANISHED? Terrarium? That might be Blessie, but still...that's weird. Eiffel...huh. Unsure if this is a case of him being so absent minded he didn't notice or remember the terrarium, or if he legit can't remember. Wait Wednesday started over? Clocks turned back at midnight? FOOD RETURNED? Okay you can change clocks, but you can't...okay time is being warped now. Maybe. Possibly. This is gonna be one of those things where you don't know how much is in their heads and how much is actually happening right? Oh boy. But also...how can one remember a time loop and the others don't...unless they are all remembering different loops...oh goodness, is this like Netflix's Dark, where I'm gonna have to start drawing maps or something?

"I don't know if there's anyone else I can trust": yeah, commander, and with the others in the same boat, it looks like you all really are alone.

Wait "MARRIED ME?" Who is she calling? Aw. Happy Birthday. That's sad but sweet. I hope she makes it home to whoever that is, but...for some reason I doubt.

Also...with the time loop stuff...is that what they mean by saying Doug isn't the first? Is Hilbert trying to escape the time loop is that why he remembers the other missions? What are the missions for? What does Hera know? Man I gotta stop doing these as study breaks or I'm never gonna quit.

But. Wait wait. Okay, I know I’ve had about 600 different insane theories already, but one more: I don’t know who sent the empty man messages. But. Is the empty man… a vessel for someone? Hilbert was talking about cheating death, time warp stuff is happening, maybe this is an invention of future Hilbert. If it came from the box, it might be for Doug. Like a… backup body for his consciousness or an… invisible clone or something? It makes the “you’re not the first” stuff make sense too. Doesn’t explain Hera’s behavior or why Doug is in space, or why the empty man is hungry and knocking, but… you know what never mind idk where I was going with this one.

I think I'll react to the rest tomorrow, because it's late, and I'm tired.

Episode 12: Deep Breaths

Update: It is tomorrow. :)

Why so doom and gloom Doug? Oh it's Christmas. Well someone's a bit of a scrooge. What else besides celebrating a nice holiday Doug? What doesn't the commander remember?

No Doug, don't hint at stuff, explain it. Normalize explaining things.

Doug. A cigarette cannot be all you are living for. You need help. You all need help.

Don't cry for me Argentina? Do not go gentle into that good night?

Doug is so dramatic. I'd hate him more, but I'm in this picture, and I don't like it.

Hilbert. Why do you need him for your experiment?

DOUG DO NOT LIT THE CIGARETTE.

Hera tell him.

Everyone needs to listen to Hera more. And also ask her more questions.

Oh boy another recording!

Sounds like music, less clear this time...oh. A band!

Aw, Hera remembered his birthday! 🥺 Wait...were those words via the transmission!

Oh Hilbert hush up.

Why would it matter if they were all music or always old transmissions from the 10s or 20s?

Hilbert. Okay. Look, 7.8 light years away, I get that...but...now hear me out...isn't it possible that you could be picking up music on a station that plays music from an older decade? Like if I picked up the song "Let it be" by the Beatles my first thought would not be "Hey! That song didn't come out 8 years ago. ALIENS." it would be "oh we pick up a 60s/70s radio station". Now obviously something deeper probably IS going on here, but still a bit of a leap.

Uh. Making a return trip to...where?? Also this is some pretty clear music. Also good quote "When you eliminate the impossible, whatever is left no matter how unlikely must be true."

Also I recognize the music playing. Is that...hold up is that Church music? For Christmas? Wait now it sounds like a ballet?

Um...what is that.

...and why did it happen as soon as they talked about trying to find the aliens?

Let's see. A little weird that the station can receive transmission better than it can send. 40 light years away? That's pretty far.

And um...I don't know if I'd be so optimistic about this. We still have a lot of unanswered questions.

What is lock down protocol 24c and what is indigo39? Hilbert. HILBERT. Were you lying about the aliens to experiment on Doug Hilbert?

Oh poor Hera. Alpha victor? What... how does Hilbert have all these codes? Why can't she let Mincowski in? Hilbert. Are you taking over the ship? Is this a one man mutiny? It is treason. WHY DOES THIS ALTER THE MISSION? LAST HALF HOUR OF OXYGEN? NO NO NO NO NO!

Yeah Eiffel, he IS crazy.

Oh no Hera.

Minutes? How does he have a way to contact Earth? Who is YOUR superior Hilbert? The devil? He must be since you are RUINING CHRISTMAS AND DOUGLAS' BIRTHDAY THAT NO ONE BUT HERA REMEMBERED. How hard is it to save your evil plans until after the holidays? How hard is it not to betray a man on his birthday?

Hera. Hera PLEASE tell me you found a way to win the game. PLEASE tell me you found a way around this.

...Hera?

Uh-oh.

Episode 13: Gas Me Twice

Well that was a bummer. I swear, Mincowski better not die she has a family.

I hate Hilbert so much. Dude is the WORST.

Wait! The oxygen mask! For the cigarette! Douglas your stupidity has saved you again!

...oh my gosh I really am in this picture, and I don't like it.

Oh no. Hera. Hera you need to help him. Yes Douglas! Have faith in her! Even though she's actively withholding information, she still seems nice! HERA! It hurts her? Oh no... oh Hera no. 🥺

22 minutes of air? Well, at least she's still alive.

Incoming pulse beacon? Interesting...

Hephestus station please respond? ...Who is Cutter???

Contingency scenarios? Data series? Transmission from deep space? Origin source? Who are these people? WHAT ARE THEY LOOKING FOR?

Oh...wait why would he know about Eiffel being alive? Haha...oh Eiffel. This was a good plan. But you might have wanted to get a little more information from him.

Death was no immediate? Okay so Hilbert was under orders to kill, but it seems Doug is his own experimental side project? Interesting...

Oh dear. A fire. Looks like you have to let Hera have control back.

Yes! Mincowski is still alive! :)

YES HERA! Emergency response overrides it! For 20 minutes? Great. Kill or capture Hilbert now.

MADE HIM DO WHAT? NO HERA NO!

HERAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Restarting... no. No. Hera. You killed her. 😢😟🥺

This gif I found pretty much approximates my feelings:

HILBERT NEEDS TO DIE.

Shut up Hilbert. No one wants to hear you speak.

Oh...hello Mincowski :)

NOW BEAT HIM UP!

And yeah...it's okay Mincowski. A lot has happened. Christmas was ruined. You lost a crewmate. It's okay to not be okay.

Can you hear me? Well Hera did say she could always hear him. Maybe a part of her mind got saved somewhere. At least, we can always hope.

Lobotomized her? No you need to fix her. 🥺

Hilbert you bastard. I don't swear much or at all on this blog, but if there was ever a time, it is now. And um... given the plant situation and the other mysterious stuff on the ship...look I don't support murder, but maybe you could just send Hilbert off by himself in a little pod and let nature take its course.

You deserved a good dinner Mincowski. Aw, Doug is 32. Happy Birthday Doug.

Hm. A communication from Hilbert's commanders. This is awkward. But better open it. And yeah, you both deserve answers.

But who is on the other line?

...Why does it sound like an telephone?

WHAT.

How dare. How dare they end on such a cliffhanger?

Mini Episode 1: Are space suits itchy?

So I'm not sure what this is, but it's on my podcast list as the last episode of season 1, so I'm gonna listen to it? Let me know if it's not canon or something, but hopefully it will be nice, even if I don't get any answers.

Aw, third grade questions. "What do you do when you're crewmate betrays you?"

IDIOTIC QUESTION? Doug what is up with your family? Be nice to Stephanie, it was a fair question.

Yeah, no don't see your doctor. He's nuts. I feel like I might be listening to his out of order. Which is a good thing. Otherwise Doug would be on the podcast telling third graders to not call their doctor lest the doctor try to kill him.

Oh boy the censorship 😂. Mincowski is the better person for this.

Well that was a quick one, but nice! Oh okay, so it was like a mini episode that aired during a break, okay. Well I hope that soon enough I'll be able to listen to more. Because I need answers. Hera needs to get better. And Hilbert needs to go to jail. I want his degrees revoked! I want him rotting in the slammer! I want the world to look upon him with nothing but contempt and disgust!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, see you all next time.

Wait no, wait hold on. What about the door? The door that Hilbert was supposed to open once he killed all of them? The grey door, the one he kept giving ominous monologues about? And...he knew about the empty man, or maybe the transmission were to tell him about the empty man. But what is that? What does that mean? You know what, we can figure that out later, I'm still mad at him.

[spiralemoji]

Addicted to Benzos

I like to make art. I like to write. Yada yada yada. I need to charge my computer, so I can write. People… don’t appreciate they just want what they can have. To read is to have a giving nature. Lending your mind for a moment to the musings of another. I think of titles that make me feel inspired and then I just let writing become a catharsis, one constant motion like a smooth flowing river. It is a glorious experience. And then I come back to reality, and it’s not so colorful and exuberant, like waking up hung over. I’m a well intentioned person, who really has a lot to offer. But the world pushes and shoves, and elbows their way forward. Cheating and lying. And I feel there is no room for a person like me in a place like this. I’m always wondering if I’m doing the right thing or the wrong thing. I’m terrified of what happens if I stop worrying. So they medicate me. And I have dreams and aspirations, but they seem to slip through my fingers like sand. And I can’t hold onto anything for certainty and safety. I never know what will happen. I took a drive to see some horses, but I wasn’t in the drivers seat. I felt scared and out of control, the further away I got from home. Though it was just five minutes down the road. I couldn’t enjoy the horses because I was swallowing a pill dry with my spit and trying to ward off the fear of a potential panic. I’m so tired of being afraid, but it’s so hard to overcome. It’s easy to become weary and sad. I sat over my dinner plate, from my perfectly prepared food. Obsessive compulsive disorder is exhausting. I eat the same thing everyday, and some days I don’t want to bother preparing it because, it’s always the same. But the fear of the consequences of starvation keeps me eating. At first I hardly enjoyed food, but now it is coming back little by little. But some days are better than others. I fight off intrusive thoughts and sorrow fills my brain. I try to imagine comforting words, I try to push through bite by bite. Everyone can see me eating slower and slower, with long pauses between, staring off looking solemn. “Just eat it.” I tell myself. “Just eat it.” But my brain won’t let up, with and then- and then’s and what ifs, and it tears me apart. I get tired of fighting and I turn in at half a plate finished. Telling them, “some days are better than others.” But it’s the fact I tried that matters. It’s too stressful to think about normal life’s stresses on top of this disorder. My brain fears what it will do to me and if it will be the death of me. So I fight, and exhausting fight. And it’s hard and miserable. And more painful the the searing wounds of blades scathing across your skin. It is a nightmare to wake up to, it is a monster who lives in your chest, and follows you everywhere you go- raging at times least convenient. I am so much more than this disorder. It is so unfair, and I am truly done with it. So I am choosing to turn monsters into flowers. And I will drown myself from the inside out with the imaginings of petals. And fight the simple fight, for some of us winning is simply being here.

[captainjacklyn]

I wonder how headcanons of Azul, Jamil, and Malleus would look like with a fem!mc who is a sea serpent that can switch between human and dragon form?

Sounds great ! I hope you enjoy these head canons, have a great day and stay safe.

Pairing(s) : jamil x reader, malleus x reader, azul x reader

Warning(s) : cussing, and a lot of it. Some crack here and there but not my best shots to be quite frank with you I think this is my worst post so far and I'll do my best to improve and update it. Also I hate the knew banners I put for my characters so I'll go and fix it.

Azul, Jamil and Malleus reacting to a sea serpent F!mc

Well he surely wasn't expecting this.

You don't possess magic but you can transform into a 32 foot sea snake....Doesn't that count as magic-

You luckily aren't a threat to him and he isn't one to you. Well...Not anymore at least. I head canon that when people overblot their mind is taken over by all the negative thoughts (meaning their in a way controlled) yet their body still shows signs of certain emotions such as trembling when afraid.

So when he noticed your enormous dragon head poking from the open walls of Scarabia, He was shaking to death.

Just turning into a jack hammer like :

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-

Kalim : "am I the only one who finds it weird that Jamil is vibrating right now ?"

Floyd : "who cares ! it's fucking hilarious, hey shrimpy roar."

Now overblot Jamil went through the ceiling after hearing that ear drum breaking sound.

Azul : "....Is he dead ?"

Jade : "Most likely but I don't think so because he just slammed back down."

WAKES UP IN A HOSPITAL WITH A BRAIN CONCUSSION

"I-I have nothing besides the fact that you just scared me shitless" Great. know he's constipated.

You are fucking GINORMOUS and big is a HUGE underestimation.

Don't try to eat him. don't try to eat him name, don't- Aaand you just did.

Spit him out. wha- No that won't insult him ! you're eating the guy alive and liking octopus as a meal isn't a FUCKING COMPLIMENT.

azul is impressed, horrified and offended.

Don't look at me with those 'I told you' eyes, eating a very much alive being won't flatter them YOU LITTLE-

A N Y W A Y S

The man is scared but he's also impressed with your power, being able to transform into a gigantic monster as its perks.

When people mess with you the respect is quickly gained with one transformation and demonstration of your capabilities.

Besides the fact that you can cause so much fucking damage.

HOW THE FUCK HAVEN'T YOU SWALLOWED CROWLEY YET ?!

He doesn't taste good- SO YOU SAY YOU WOULD RATHER EAT THE GUY YOU LIKE AND THE ONE YOU HATE LIVE ?!

god damn it mc.

Two words : DRAGON LOVERS

you both are so fucking adorable, I just imagine the both of you taking a nap in your dragon forms just cuddled up together.

A bit like this :

pretend being a sea snake in dragon form, IT'S SO FUCKING ADORABLE.

but now that NRC knows about you two and your true forms, I pray not for Crowley and his "stress".

chew. him. out.

yes, I know you said no cause he tasted like shit but deal with it. I ain't helping, more like I can't cause he's in your stomach and- Wait a minute.

Did you just eat him alive ?!

I said chew not swallow !

sigh...Malleus ?

But besides the fact that Crowley now resides in your digestion, you and malleus are good for marriage.

Two dragons ruling over a kingdom of faes, if anyone says that you lack knowledge in magic they got another thing coming.

What is surprising is that you come from the waters while he lives in the sky and dry lands. It reminds me of the little mermaid who wishes to meet the guy she saw once, and as a mermaid Ariel has to stay in water meanwhile her love at first sight cliché stays on dry land.

There was a small French story as well which can only be found in a children's book that I used to read as a kid.

It's between a dragon who belongs in the water and the female one who is the rainbow dragon who paints the colors of the sky.

Should I make a fic about this ? I don't know.

Just two adorable dragon lovers and-

Mc swallow Crowley back I do not want to see him.

Hope you enjoyed and I'm sorry for not being active today much often.

[omgrachwrites]

High Adventure - Ezio Auditore

Pairing: Ezio Auditore x Reader

Summary: When you hear the news of your awful fiance's death, you travel to Tuscany to meet the man that took his life, and saved yours in return.

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of abuse, mentions of death

Words: 1379

Translations: Nipote - Nephew

Buon pomeriggio - Good Afternoon

A/N: So, this is just a short little something I cooked up when I was playing AC II, I am so sorry if I've butchered Ezio's character, and I'm so sorry if the Italian is wrong! Please let me know what you think please enjoy, I love you all! xxx

It was a beautiful day in Firenze, or at least that was what it looked like from the intricately designed windows of your families’ grand house. With a small sigh and a longing look, you gazed out the window at the endless blue sky. You ached for the days when you could walk the streets of the beautiful city until your heart was content. Now, you hardly had a moment to yourself, you were either with your fiancé or you were preparing from your wedding.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mother glance over at you with a small smile. You wondered if she knew that you had been sneaking out of the city in the early hours of the evening and returning in the morning before anyone had awoken. You needed to learn how to protect yourself, your future husband was a tyrant. But no, your mother couldn’t know, if she’d even had the smallest inkling then you would be locked in the tower until your wedding day.

“Y/N?” your father called from the hallway, startling you out of your daydream.

“Papa? Is everything alright?” you asked, getting to your feet right away.

Your father’s eyes were soft and sympathetic, and his hair was dishevelled like he’d been running his fingers through it, “no, everything is not alright. I need to speak with you.”

Your mother almost got to her feet but your father stopped her with a wave of his hand, “just Y/N and I.”

You thought it was odd but you didn’t comment on it as you followed your father out of the room. He paced up and down the length of the hallway, looking distressed before he finally glanced up at you.

“I don’t know of a kinder way to say it, but,” he hesitated, taking a deep breath, “Vieri is dead.”

Your stomach jolted and your heart leapt for joy – as awful as it sounded. You were free, you didn’t have to marry the monster who had torn your innocence from you so cruelly, “what?” you gasped, you were so shocked that somebody had managed to kill him. The Pazzi had always seemed so invincible, “who killed him?”

Your father rested a hand on your cheek, “it was Mario Auditore.”

You fought hard to keep your face neutral, Mario Auditore had been the one teaching you how to fight, Mario was the only one who knew what Vieri had done to you. You also knew that the Pazzi had killed his brother and two of his three nephews. Though, you hadn’t been training with Mario of late, he’d been much too busy with his nephew, who you’d never met.

“I’m so sorry, my darling,” your father tried to pull you into his arms but you held him back. You had to go to the villa in Tuscany.

“I’m sorry, Papa but I just need some time alone,” without waiting for an answer, you ran out of the house and into the warm sunlit streets.

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips as you ran through the streets, not giving a care about the looks you were getting from strangers. You felt free, for the first time in about a year, you felt well and truly free. You didn’t stop running until you reached the stables and with burning legs, you mounted a chestnut horse and rode all the way to Tuscany.

As you reached the villa, you all but vaulted off the horse and ran into the town, you got a lovely surprise as you walked through the town. The town was much more lively and some of the crumbling buildings had been renovated, it was clear that Mario’s nephew had helped to restore them.

As you walked through the courtyard, you nodded a greeting to one of Mario’s associates and noticed that he was speaking with a very handsome man. You found Mario in his study as usual and as soon as you saw him, you couldn’t help but call out to him.

“You did it, Mario! You killed, Vieri!” the older, weathered man smiled at you kindly as he shook his head, his eyes twinkling,

“I wish that I had delivered the final blow but I’m afraid that honour belongs to my nipote, Ezio,” he gestured at something over your shoulder.

With a raised eyebrow, you turned around and found yourself face to face with the handsome man that you had seen in the courtyard. Ezio was very handsome with warm eyes and there was a scar down his lip and you vaguely wondered how he got it.

“Buon pomeriggio,” Ezio grinned as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the top of it as he kept eye contact with you. You just knew that he was a favourite of the ladies.

“Ezio, this is Y/N Y/L/N,” Mario started, “she was intended to be Vieri de’ Pazzi’s bride.”

At once, the smile on Ezio’s face dropped and he looked down at the floor as a muscle fluttered in his jaw and you didn’t miss the deep look of guilt that flashed across his face, “I am sorry for your loss.”

With a smile, you cupped his rough jaw and he looked at you, there was some sort of wounded look in his eyes, “you killed him, thank you, you saved my life,” you whispered before you pulled him into a hug, resting your cheek against his chest, listening to the deep thump of his heart. You felt his body tense before he relaxed and he wrapped his arms around you.

Mario cleared his throat which forced you and Ezio away from each other, you gave each other sheepish smiles as Mario chuckled, “how about you show Y/N around the new and improved town?”

“Of course, Uncle,” Ezio bowed his head and offered you his arm, “shall we?” he grinned cheekily, raising an eyebrow.

You giggled as you placed your arm in Ezio’s, “lead the way.”

The blazing sun was high in the cloudless sky, casting the villa and the town in a golden light, it looked so beautiful. You were worried about who your parents were going to push you to marry but that was a worry for another day, golden afternoons shouldn’t be spent plagued with worries.

“I’m so sorry for the loss of your father and brothers, Ezio,” you sighed as you looked up at his handsome profile.

With a sigh, he ran a hand through his long dark hair before he offered you a small smile, the edges of his eyes crinkling, “thank you, I miss them very much. But, with Vieri dead my soul can rest a little easier. Though, my work is far from over in fact, it’s only just begun.”

You smiled as you could hear children playing in the distance and you could smell the growing fruit in the nearby villages, “I think you’re doing the whole world a service.”

Ezio grinned and ducked his head but you could still see his blush, “so why are you happy that Vieri is dead? Was he awful to you?”

You bit your lip as you almost felt a dark shadow settle over the both of you and you almost shuddered at the awful memories, “he was awful, as awful as you could ever imagine a man to be.”

Ezio pulled his arm from yours and rested his hand on the small of your back, rubbing his thumb in comforting circles, “I am so sorry.”

You forced a smile as you looked at the assassin, “it’s all over with now isn’t it. Though, I’m worried about who my parents will pick next for a suitor,” you sighed.

Ezio looked pensive as you passed by a giggling group of whores, “why don’t you come with me on my journey?”

You almost laughed out loud, you had hardly been out of Tuscany but you couldn’t go with a perfect stranger, no matter how much the thrill of adventure called you, “we’ve known each other for all of five minutes.”

Ezio shrugged, “just think about it, Y/N.”

“I will, I will think about it, Ezio Auditore,” you might have sounded crazy but you were ready for a high adventure.

[keijislove]

Hi babe! I was wondering if I could request a Tony Stark x daughter reader? With lots of angst and her being locked in her room because she’s being bullied for her darker skin

(I understand if you’re not comfortable with this)

Safe Place: Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader

I think this turned out a bit longer than I expected.

Sorry :(

I hope you like this, I don’t really have a lot of experience with this matter, so I hope I captured the emotions right!

I AM APOLOGISING IN ADVANCE, THE HURTFUL COMMENTS MENTIONED HERE ARE NOT ONES I WOULD EVER USE IN MY LIFETIME.

GIRL, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY YOU ARE – YOU DON’T NEED DIMWITS LIKE RACISTS TO DEFINE BEAUTY. YOU WANT THE DEFINITION OF BEAUTY, GO LOOK IN THE MIRROR.

PUT A STOP TO RACISM.

WARNINGS: Slight EXTREMELY racial comments, mentions of death, toxic relationship, angst, Tony being a little... well, Tony.

Being Tony Stark’s daughter was nearly everyone’s dream. Well, everyone you’d come across at school, anyway. It seemed rational from their point of view – big house, big bedroom, expensive branded clothing, basically an overall exquisite lifestyle coupled with fame of being his daughter which was sure to earn popularity points anywhere and everywhere. A man rolling in that amount of money would make a great dad... right?

You thought differently. Which was one of the main reasons you did not tell anyone who your father really was and your teachers understood your predicament and played along to your story of being an ordinary girl with no scope for coolness whatsoever.

Your mother had met your father a long, long time ago – when Tony was still in university. Of course, he’d left her before he even knew she was pregnant, and they never saw each other again. You didn’t exactly love your life as his daughter. In fact, from what your mother had told you, he was (in your vision) a complete monster whom your mother had the sad misfortune to meet.

It was her untimely death that had forced you to go live with the man who was the reason you were born and the man who ruthlessly left your mother to fend for herself and a baby. You had tried for foster care, but the agents told you that your father was still alive and more than capable of taking care of you – being the famous Tony Stark and all.

So it would suffice to say that Tony was lowkey shocked when you turned up at his doorstep one day with a grudging expression and declarations of being his daughter. He actually didn’t believe you at first and asked you to piss off which confirmed your earlier assumptions about his character – asshole. After you’d snapped at him and showed him all the legal documentations stating that you two were blood-related as father-daughter after all, Tony was even more shocked than earlier.

Though he would rather die than admit it, he felt sad after seeing your fourteen-year-old self standing at his doorstep. He’d missed your birth, your first steps, your first words, he even missed helping you with homework in preschool – basically all precious moments you enjoy with a child. But you made it pretty clear that you didn’t want to be here – something that made Tony’s already overlarge pride swell like a bullfrog and stopped him from ever getting close to you. While you were busy thinking he didn’t want you, you overlooked a small detail – he took you in.

If anyone had the power to bribe an adoption agency to get rid of their kid, it was Anthony Stark, yet he never gave you away. The simple explanation (that he would never, in a million years, admit it to you) was that he didn’t want to lose you – around the only blood-related family he had left.

And so began your life as Y/N Stark. It functioned surprisingly well for your expectations. Pepper was really nice to you and those few occasions when the Avengers came over, you were able to talk to Natasha about ‘girl things’, her presence reminding you of the mother you had lost only too young. You sometimes even asked Bruce for help with homework, too proud yourself to go to Tony. Overall, you stayed out of his way while he stayed out of yours – an arrangement you were both satisfied with.

The worst part was that you never talked. Ever. You would wake up and walk to school, refusing Jarvis’ continued protests of letting you use the self-driving car, came home the same way where you did your homework and grabbed a snack before you ‘father’ came back upstairs from his little man cave in the basement and a small ‘good-evening’ passed between you two as you went your separate ways. This cycle repeated itself every day. Recently, your life at school hadn’t been going great.

You’d known that your skin tone was a notch darker than the others at your school – something you had gotten from your mother – and this was not something you really cared about. That’s when they started coming – the comments. What were originally small, snide retorts of ‘wash your face, ew!’ (A/N: I AM SO SORRY) had now escalated to them calling you obscene names you’d never heard before and asking you to leave ‘their’ school

Which was why, instead of being at school today, you were locked in your bedroom, sobbing into your pillow.

It had started out as a very unusual morning. After getting comments hurled at you left right and centre the previous day, you’d had enough. You’d woken up and declared to Jarvis that you were skipping school and he was to, under no circumstances, notify your father about this. After that you tried to eat some cereal, but the bubbling dread in your stomach made it taste like dry carpet, so you gave up and stomped into your room, locking the door before flinging yourself onto the bed and crying your heart out.

It was in times like these that you felt the need for something – a gaping hole in your chest. It seemed foolish to even admit it to yourself, but you really wanted someone like a parent. Someone who listened to your problems and comforted you accordingly, someone who actually cared about you. And since Tony Stark filled neither of these requirements, you gave up the foolish dream and sunk, once again, into your self-fashioned depths of misery.

-------

Tony casually sipped on his wine, putting one last screw into place to make the latest piece he was testing out. As he powered the device on, it vibrated for a moment before the words ‘model failed’ appeared on the screen Tony was examining.

He swore loudly and shoved it ungracefully aside before running his hands through his hair. There had been many an occasion where Tony seriously considered going to your room to just say something to you that wasn’t a monotonous ‘good evening’ or ‘the milk’s finished’ or something else like that. He wanted to talk to you. To you.

He wanted to get to know the real Y/N – what you were like when you weren’t too busy being bold and refusing to appear vulnerable. As if reading his thoughts, Jarvis’ voice filled the room suddenly.

“Sir, I do believe that Ms Stark is currently locked inside her bedroom. She refused to go to school just this morning.”

“What?” Tony exclaimed, “Why, did she tell you anything else?”

“Just this, Sir, along with a few obscene warnings of not informing you about this occurrence. If I recall correctly, Ms Stark told me she would rip out my sockets with her bare hands had I come to you.”

Ignoring the small smirk that was growing on his lips at the thought of you behaving exactly as he would, Tony wiped his tired hands on a nearby cloth before sprinting out the door and up the stairs to your bedroom.

He knocked on the door.

“Go away Pepper, not in the mood,” came your muffled voice. It was weak and raw – evidently, you had been crying.

Ignoring the poking feeling of dread bubbling in his stomach, Tony knocked again.

“Open up, kid, it’s me,” he shouted.

“Definitely not in the mood, thanks.”

Tony sighed. This was exactly what he had tried so hard to avoid –turning out like his own father. Not knowing how to deal with a daughter properly, he just let you go about your business as you wanted, hoping that it would yield better results than what his childhood had been like. Now, looking back at how much he’d neglected you, he suddenly realised that he had done the exact thing he was afraid of – hurt you.

“Y/N Y/M/N Stark, open the door. Please.”

Perhaps it was the please at the end or the way he acknowledged you as his living, breathing daughter for the first time that made you stagger limply over to the door and push it open.

Your eyes were puffy, red and swollen from bawling nonstop and your brows were knitted into a disapproving frown. It broke Tony’s heart to see you like this.

“Listening,” you sniffed, crossing your arms.

“Okay, why don’t you sit down,” Tony frowned slightly.

You gave another hearty sniff and led him to your bed where you flopped down and watched as he took a seat beside you.

You both sat in a very painful, deafening silence for the next few minutes.

“You didn’t go to school today,” Tony casually remarked as you played with your pillow, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I did,” you said simply.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Tony offered.

“I really don’t,” you admitted as he burst out laughing and you gave a grudging giggle despite yourself.

“Seriously, kid,” Tony said in an undertone, “You’ve gotta open up a bit more. I mean, it’s been like what, two years since you moved here and you never bother telling me what’s going on. And look where that got you – come on, tell me what’s going on. Is it school?”

“Partially,” you quietly said to which he cocked an eyebrow.

“Completely,” you amended, sighing, “Kids, you know, they’re just being – well, mean.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded slightly, “You want to talk about it?”

“They... they make fun of me,” you admitted, “About – about my skin colour and stuff. And I know I’m being stupid, getting upset over this –”

“It’s not stupid,” Tony broke in, “It’s not stupid at all. Nothing gives anyone a right to talk to you that way.”

“Try telling that to them!” you burst out, final letting go of the pent-up emotions you’d been holding for days, “What did I ever do to them – it’s not my fault I look like this, maybe if I could choose what to look like, I’d choose something they want! Just about everyone seems to have a problem – what the hell do they expect me to do? It’s unjust, unfair, unsettling and unkind, but of course they don’t care, do they?!”

Tony didn’t even flinch throughout your entire outburst until you broke down and tears began rapidly pouring out of your eyes once more.

“Hey, hey, stop, listen to me,” Tony sternly said, seizing your shoulders and turning you to face him.

“You’re a Stark,” he said, gazing you dead in the eyes, “You are beautiful, you’re smart and you’re kind. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

This was too much for you to handle and you started sobbing again – sobs of partial happiness and partial guilt that didn’t look like they would stop anytime soon.

“Come here, kid,” was all Tony could say as he pulled you into a hug, allowing you to sob into his shirt while he stroked your hair, trying to calm you down.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever been mean to you,” you whispered finally.

“It’s okay, kid,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m sorry I haven’t been a great father all this time.”

You two sat in a now comfortable silence, occasionally clearing your throats or sniffling a bit before Tony finally spoke.

“If anyone says that to you again, I will have them cut up and fed to the fish in my house in Malibu.”

“Thanks, dad.”

[fandomvariousness]

Finally

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of violence & death, nsfw content

Summary: reader finally sees her lover Eren after the team retrieves him to the airship, yet he’s not the same. Will she bring him back?

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: Forgive me if some details are inaccurate, this is my rendering of the situation, so some things may not add up!

Finally.

Finally, the day you’re going to see Eren again.

You shivered with anticipation, thinking about the letters that were going sparse, until there were none. You’ve been inseparable, supporting each other every step of the way, but Eren had to deal with unthinkable, horrible things along the same steps too, and you couldn’t take all of it away – the burning hatred seeped into his brain, numbing his senses and compassion.

He offered no explanation in letters as to why he’d stopped writing so often, and you didn’t ask for one – he’s in enemy’s land, surely he has his reasons, but deep down you knew he was pushing you away.

What were you going to say to him? Will you hug him? Will he hug you? You had no idea, and it was killing you.

Your adrenaline was over the roof. Everything around you was destroyed, splintered, ground to pieces – Eren did that.

It seemed that you lost it when you realized that Eren had transformed without the care of hurting innocent civilians – his sense of revenge was stronger than anything else. You haven’t been able to approach him yet, to look into his mesmerizing jade eyes. You suspected Captain Levi has positioned you away from him on purpose – who knows how you and Eren would’ve reacted to each other’s presence after so long.

You felt the insides of your stomach turn as you hooked your cables on the airship and zipped-lined towards it. Just a minute ago you saw how Mikasa made it inside, dragging Eren along. You heard a commotion above you – Captain Levi was cussing Eren out. The casual.

You felt how everyone stopped whatever they were doing as you were climbing on board – secretly, they all wanted to know what will happen once you two meet again. That’s how powerful you two are. Were.

Out of breath, you stood up, regaining your posture, your rifle still in hands as you finally looked at him: if not for the emerald sheen of his eyes, you wouldn’t have recognized this ragged, miserable man with a chestnut resembling that of a lion.

You stared into each other, the unbearable grief that consumed you rendering you immobile. Quickly, your vision worsened, tears blurring your eyes as you realized there’s nothing behind those of Eren. He looks at you, yet doesn’t say anything, doesn’t feel anything.

“Move,” Captain Levi muttered and lightly pushed you aside.

You tore your gaze away from Eren, breathing shallow breaths as you stumbled towards the wall, leaning on it.

And then you heard the shot.

~

It was unbearable. One fleeting moment, one slightest miscalculation, and she’s gone. Sasha is gone.

You kneeled beside her tomb with your head hanging down, hot teardrops sinking into the pale stone. Everything was always shit, but now… now it’s pure hell. You sobbed and raised your head to look at the cloudy sky, cutting off the air flow, trying to pull yourself together.

“Hey,” Jean approached you, Connie not far behind. “Come here.”

He crouched down to your level and placed his palms on your shoulders reassuringly, helping you stand up.

Eren was nowhere to be seen. He kept to himself in his quarters, but Captain Levi forbid anyone to properly visit him anyway. He thought Eren’s unstable.

But you thought the opposite. Eren’s perfectly stable – the deadly precision, calculation and determination fueled his conscious, revenge-fueled decisions, and frankly, you were afraid. He wasn’t thrashing around like he would years ago, screaming and tearing everything apart, consumed by fury – he knew what he was doing now.

The last time you laid eyes on him was during Sasha’s funeral, but it seemed that he wasn’t even there. His body was, of course, but his mind was fleeting somewhere else, somewhere where he could continue plotting the utter extermination of every last one of his enemies.

It’s going to be hard, bringing him back. Hell, you didn’t even know if it’s possible – he truly looked like a goner. But you were going to try, because there isn’t any other living being in the world you love more than Eren Jaeger.

~

You sat on your bed, facing the one that belonged to Sasha. She would tell you to stand up and go straight to Eren and whoop his ass for ignoring you.

You sank your teeth in your lower lip as you stood up and made your way towards Captain Levi’s office.

“Come in,” his low voice muttered after you knocked. He rolled his eyes when he saw it’s you.

“What is it?” he asked, his desk already stuffed with a bunch of paperwork.

“I need to visit Eren.” you realized how selfish your request sounds in the midst of everything, but you couldn’t help it.

“No.” he answered after a few seconds of regarding you, without any care in the world. “You’ll just wind him up.”

Your heart skipped a beat – if Captain Levi thought that Eren still feels something for you, then maybe it’s true.

“Please, Captain, I –”

“Stop whining, brat.” he hissed, silencing you.

There was a wall of miscommunication between the two of you as you stared at each other, trying to convince one another silently.

He put down his pen after a few moments and leaned back in his chair as he sighed slowly. “You’re gonna do it anyway, aren’t you?”

You shrugged ever so slightly as you stared at nothing in particular.

Some more silence passed. “I’ve not yet decided on giving you week’s-worth punishment for insubordination, but go. Get out.”

“Thank you, Captain.” you bowed your head to him quickly, suppressing your smile as you basically ran away.

Levi rubbed his forehead. “Stupid brats.”

~

As you approached the door of Eren’s room, your heart pounded against your ribs so hard, you truly thought they’re going to crack. Yet here you were, standing within a step from the door, eyeing the little crack of light that emits from within – it’s not completely closed.

You lifted your trembling arm and knocked softly, then once again, harder this time, thinking he may not have heard it.

“Eren?” you whispered weakly after you got no reply once again.

You gulped and pushed the door further, stepping in – empty. He’s not here.

You released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you stepped further, looking around. The whole room looked almost untouched if not for the sack of a few items he brought from his old room. Your eyes flicked towards a stack of letters on the desk – your letters.

Your lower lip quivered as you approached them, picking one up – not even opened.

Pain and anger spun like a vortex inside you, bringing hot tears to your eyes. How important must’ve been the reason that he denied you the slightest explanation?

The letter dropped back to the desk as you flinched, hearing the door shut behind you.

Gasping quietly, you turned around, seeing him clearly for the first time since a couple of days ago. He stood there in all his cool, newfound glory: hair long enough to be messily gathered in a bun, naked torso adorned with chiseled abs, V line protruding from his waistline, and pants that hugged his muscular legs.

He had a toweled hanging over his shoulder – that’s where he’s been, in the showers.

You didn’t know what was the exact reason for the hot blush that crept to your face in a second – the fact that Eren is even more attractive than you remember, or that you stood there like a mute, with your jaw basically on the floor.

His own gaze was unreadable – he watched you like a hawk as he approached the chair and draped the towel over its back, stuffing his hands in his pockets afterwards.

You snapped awake, glancing at the letters behind you, and then back at him. “You never opened them.”

“You need to forget me,” he spoke, staring directly in your eyes. “I’ve only have a few years left anyway, if I’m lucky.”

It hurt you how assured of his words he was as you turned your body from him, desperately trying to calm down. He stood there just the same when you dared to look at him again.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, failing to conceal the tremble that laced your voice. “I’ve told you countless times, I’m with you until the end, and even then.”

“That’s exactly why.” he raised his voice just a bit, reminding of the old Eren you used to know. “I can’t bear the fact that you’re okay with… all this.”

You covered your face with your palms momentarily before stepping a couple of steps closer to him. “Did you honestly think I’ll go down with this scheme of yours?”

“I’m determined to make it happen.”

“Eren, don’t be stupid!” you couldn’t control yourself anymore. “I’m not some… weak maiden in need of constant attention! I’m your partner!”

“You want to be partner of the monster that I am?” he asked, a faint hint of disappointment in his voice.

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Eren…”

“I’m a murderer.” he said as he lessened the space between you a little more, trying to impose his truth on you – you could almost feel his breath on your skin, what made another shiver run down your spine.

You opened your eyes abruptly, because you knew he expected that you won’t be able to even look at him after what he’s done. His jade eyes were the same as before as you drowned in them.

You couldn’t help as you placed your dainty palms on his ripped upper arms, the tips of your fingers jolting with electricity. Eren felt that too, for you heard him draw in a sharp breath.

You were going to say something, but right now you couldn’t focus on anything other than your skins touching again, after all this time. You gulped as you gathered courage to lightly stroke down to his forearms.

“You’re not a monster.” you spoke again. “You’re just a hurt boy who can’t help but hurt others.”

He stayed silent, because he knew it’s true. You always did this to him – always had one last argument that made him shut up. His eyes became glassy as he looked down in shame, gripping your own forearms in his calloused palms.

“Come here,” you mumbled as you wound your arms around his neck, cradling him, as his own arms snaked around your waist, head buried in the crook of your neck.

You were only hugging, but it felt ecstatic. You gripped him tightly, swearing to yourself never to let go again. You felt a few wet drops run down your shoulder, yet Eren didn’t release a sound – you knew he was holding back.

“I’m sorry for everything.” he whispered. “You don’t deserve this.”

“Eren, you’re never getting rid of me.” you whispered into his hair before planting a tender kiss on his head.

He released a breathy laugh, tickling your neck. You nuzzled into each other more, and then you felt his lips on your neck, pecking it lightly, immediately blazing flames in your lower region.

You arched your neck back, providing him with an easier access to your skin. You couldn’t suppress a small gasp as his hot breath trailed up to your jaw, along with his longing-filled kisses.

“I missed you.” he whispered against your jaw, before pecking just below the corner of your lips.

Your mind was already in shambles. “Believe me, I missed you more.”

Your lips finally collided: desperate, needy, hungry. His fingers dug into your hips, aligning your centers as your palms slid down to the either side of his neck. You moaned into his lips between the famished, open-mouthed kisses as he gripped your behind, trying to savor it all.

Your palms were running down his chest on their own, exploring every crevice and scar, some old and some new, still unexplored. You felt his hand slide under the hem of your shirt up to your ribs, leaving a scalding-hot trail in its wake.

You rutted your hips against his automatically, getting needier with every passing second, your hands hooked around his neck again, holding on for dear life.

Your jaw slacked as he sneaked his hand under your bra, his fingers coming in contact with your hardened nipple. He drew back a little so that he could see your flushed face and hazy eyes, a light sheen of saliva reflecting from your slightly lolled out tongue.

“More, you say? Just how much?” he teased, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips repeatedly, the corners of his lips upturned ever so slightly.

“Really, really much,” you whimpered before he discarded you of your shirt and bra, his hands roaming down your sides as he sucked on your jugular, your hands buried in his hair, ruining his bun.

“Jump.” he said between the wet kisses as you felt his hands under your thighs.

He made his way towards the bed before gently dropping you down on it, feeling the tent in his pants become unbearable, almost painful. How could it not, when you lay sprawled out under him, hair messy around your head like a halo, all the while needy breaths escaping your lips?

You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but you wanted to drive him crazy, to make up for all the painful time you’ve spent apart. You started wriggling out of your leggings, your gaze never leaving his eyes. He unbuttoned his own pants before they slid to the ground, revealing a formed tent under his boxers.

Suddenly, he grabbed you by your calves and yanked you closer, forcing a yelp from you. Second after his lips crashed on yours again, making their way down, passing your neck, collarbones, stomach, until they reached their destination.

You found it hard to breathe as he kissed your inner tight, getting closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Eren,” you whimpered, your eyes closed, hands gripping the sheets. “Please…”

You felt him smile against your thigh before his tongue flicked against your clothed clit lightly, coaxing another high-pitched moan from you.

You put the back of your hand against your mouth quickly, embarrassed at the sudden reaction. You felt the bed shift before you opened your eyes and saw him parallel with your own body again.

“Don’t,” he asked as he removed your arm from your face. “I want to hear every little sound you make.”

He kissed you once before making his way back, hooking his fingers on your panties and sliding them down painfully slowly. The cold air on your skin peppered it with goosebumps, yet when you felt Eren’s face lower to your center, your body ignited once again.

A moan got stuck in your throat as you felt Eren’s slick tongue go all the way from your entrance to your clit, circling it, literally driving you crazy.

“Eren,” you moaned, the back of your head buried into the mattress as you wound your hands through his hair, completely ruining the bun, his chestnut hair falling to the sides and framing his face.

His fingers dug into your thighs as he pleasured you with his tongue, awakening the passion in you that was dormant during his absence.

Eren loved the taste of you on his tongue as he sucked on you, holding down your squirming hips. He knew you were close; he remembers everything your body language tells him.

“E-Eren, I’m gonna—” you choked out, confirming his observations.

You felt cold air hit your slick folds as Eren drew back, quickly discarding himself of his last piece of clothing before he leaned down, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips.

“Ready?” he breathed into your lips, receiving a nod.

The burning sensation followed his dick breaching your entrance, stretching it out after so long.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your mouth, having forgotten just how good your pussy feels.

You choked out a groan as you wound your legs around his waist, urging him to plunge deeper, despite the slight pain that strains you.

“This good?” he asks between his heavy breathing as he makes his way deeper into you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod quickly, your voice out of tune.

He finally hits your cervix, staying like that for a few moments, allowing you to adjust, peppering your neck with kisses as your chest rises and falls heavily.

You kiss his lips as you place a hand against his buttocks, urging him to go on. He goes back to the point of pulling out before hitting you deep again, building up his pace as he does so.

Your mind is getting hazier with each thrust – it seemed that the room turned into a sauna as you could almost see the huffs of air that escaped both of your mouths.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he groaned against your ear as he pinned your hand above to your head, intertwining his fingers with yours.

He was barely controlling himself as your pussy clenched around him – he probably never had to restrain himself with you as he does now, regarding the absence of your touch for such a long amount of time. You’ve never been apart that long, and he hoped you’ll never be again.

“Eren!” you screamed, sensing your release fast approaching as you wound your hands around his neck.

He pounded into you hard, bringing some steamy memories of your times before for a moment.

Finally, you fell, arching your back, your stomach gliding against his, as every nerve of your brain exploded. Eren continued thrusting into you until a few moments after you felt his own release spilling inside you.

He moaned against the crook of your neck, planting a few kisses. He rolled to your side and faced the ceiling with his eyes closed, until they snapped open again, hearing you sniffle.

Guilt washed over him like a tempest as he leaned on his side, gently gripping your waist as you covered your eyes with the back of your forearm. “Did I hurt you??”

“No!” you yelped and removed your arm from your face, placing your palm on his cheek instead. For a moment you were so frightened he would blame himself for something he didn’t even do.

“No,” you repeated, more softly. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

He leaned his forehead to yours, worry leaving his body almost visibly. He sighed as he brought you closer.

You tucked a few of his locks behind his ear, making him look a couple years younger. “I love your hair.”

Eren chuckled, his eyes still closed in the afterglow bliss. “Captain hates it. He said –”

Then it dawned on him. “Wait, how did you get here?” he leaned on his forearm as he looked at you, genuinely interested, amusement threatening to widen his smile any moment.

“I simply asked Captain.”

Eren raised an eyebrow. “And he let you?? Just like that?”

“Well,” you trailed off. “He did mention something about a punishment for insubordination…”

“Unbelievable,” Eren whispered, as he sunk back into the mattress, quiet laughs emanating from his chest, as you drew shapes on it with a stupid smile on your face. “And you still came.”

“I’ll be fine if you visit me at least twice while I’m behind bars?”

You two laughed even harder, and this moment, this tiny moment in the vast space surrounding everything, was perfect.

[lostgreekgod]

delusion: part 2

"a/n: hello, hello! cant say i didnt sniffle a little writing this one.

words: 6539 (the word limit kind of faded away as i got emotional)

pairing: loki x f!reader

warnings: angst, but ends with fluff. but a lot of angst. mentions of death, blood, and fingers. and dead bodies. and hypnotism?

another a/n: thanks to @theaudacitytowrite for this little adventure. cant say I wont miss it.

tagging all those who requested for a part 2: @karushinekomiya @midnights-ramblings @savoryloki

read part 1 here!

37 minutes. That’s how long it took for y/n to have her soul crushed. Not crushed, ripped, and trampled all over repeatedly, until her very essence was terminated, until she was nothing but a bag of bones, muscles, and blood. She fell back into her bed as she watched Loki leave her. Forever. She didn’t matter to the god. Of course she didn’t. why did she ever believe that she would be of any importance to him? A mighty god like Loki, a literal prince! What was some simple Midgardian to a being of such alleviated status? y/n felt something trail down her cheek. She was crying. 4 years, 3 months, and 27 days of not one tear- not even when her parents left her to rot- and it took only 37 minutes for her ex-lover to have her eyes release such a foreign substance. She wasn’t even sobbing, just one lonesome tear trailed past her cheekbone, just one tear that contained all her anger, sadness, and pain. She wished she could cry harder. She wished she could cry her eyes dry, and just spontaneously combust while she was at it.

“Okay since the door is open, I’m assuming you guys aren’t doing anything that will scar me for life-“

Nat. Of all those times she could walk into y/n’s room, she picked today. She faltered as she took in the image of y/n sprawled on the bed, staring at the ceiling and into nothingness.

“y/n?” she whispered as she reached for her friend. Her blood froze as she took in y/n’s face. Pale, like a corpse. y/n still hadn’t acknowledged Natasha’s presence. Gently shaking y/n’s shoulder, Natasha called her name again. Nothing. Was she even breathing? Natasha began to panic. Her only friend- aside from Wanda- What ever happened? y/n was fine when she left training a while ago-

“Nat,” came y/n’s voice, a gentle, hoarse whisper.

Rushing to her side, Nat brushed her hair away from her face. “y/n, what happened?”

Finally, y/n met Natasha’s eyes. The pain was so evident in them, just bared out for the whole world to see. Vulnerable, weak. Natasha had never seen y/n like this. The y/n she knew was strong, so strong.

“y/n,” she breathed, “talk to me.”

“He left me.” Her voice cracked, almost as if it wanted to match with the likeliness of her cracked heart.

“What? Right now?”

y/n nodded, not trusting her voice. If only she could find a release for that awful swell in her throat.

“Hours before a mission?” Natasha could have slapped herself for blurting out something so insensitive. Here laid her friend, literally looking like death, and she was worried about a mission. Sure, they had 4 lives to save, but what good was a near-dead agent in a rescue operation?

Natasha had initially come over to y/n’s room for last-minute mission prep. Yes, they had about 2 hours left for the mission, but she could never be too careful with anything.

“Would you like me to leave you alone?”

y/n simply continued to stare at the ceiling. Natasha wished she could see what she was thinking. Although she looked like death, Natasha couldn’t help but notice how she had cried just one tear. Anyone could tell that she needed a while to collect herself. Natasha decided to step out, probably approach Fury and issue a last-minute change of plan. She could take Clint and Peter. Not the best replacement, but she could have Peter go in and look for the agents, while she placed Clint at a farther position, as backup for Peter.

“Stay.” y/n breathed out when Natasha began to retract her arms away.

Perhaps Natasha could stay and provide her friend some support, just for a few minutes. She felt awful about how she couldn’t help more, but this was the most she could do at the moment. ‘Missions first, personal problems next. What are you a hero for?’ as Fury would say. Natasha thought of Loki. How she wished she could knee him in the groin and then cause him a slow painful death.

“Coming up with a plan for murder?” y/n asked, somewhat with a hint of amusement in her voice.

Looking up at y/n’s face, Natasha relished the little smile on her face. Heartbroken as y/n was, she was still alive.

“You know me so well.” She snickered.

“Don’t bother Nat. He doesn’t deserve it.” Lies. Although y/n really wished to let Nat murder Loki, her love for him outdid that need.

“y/n, as much as I would like to stay with you like this, I’m afraid I have work to do. I need to find replacements so the mission can still-“

y/n’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? Replacements?”

“Yes, you obviously cannot go on a mission in this state. I mean, have you seen yourself?”

No. No, no, no. The mission was the only distraction she was counting on. If she stayed behind, she would probably end up doing something she never once thought she would.

“I want to come, Nat. I’m fully capable of fighting today.”

“y/n, think about this. Loki- “ Nat paused, concern refilling her when y/n flinched at his name. Rephrasing, she tried again, “he’s going to be there too, and we cannot risk any mistakes.”

“Nat. you know me. You know how I am. Would I let a little squabble in my personal life come in the way of my work?” y/n was probably lying again, she didn’t know how she could manage being in close proximity with the same person who managed to suck out her very soul, but it was so much better than the alternative. If y/n was deemed unfit for the mission, she would have to spend a day doing nothing, and that was not something she was looking forward to.

“Let me partake in the mission, Nat. I promise ill be okay. I just needed a few moments to collect myself.” y/n added a little smile at the end, hoping she could have Natasha fooled into believing that she was fine.

Gauging her response, Natasha studied y/n’s face for a moment. It was obvious she was lying, but Natasha knew better. She had to let y/n do this. Nodding, she relented.

“Promise you’ll be okay?” she asked, squeezing y/n’s shoulder once before standing up.

“Promise.”

//

He still had 2 hours to burn. 2 hours before he set out on a mission with the person he loved, aka the person whose heart he broke. Once her best friend, Natasha Romanoff found out, she’d probably come straight up to his room to kill him. He would have laughed if he was capable of feeling anything at the moment. He laid in his bed. The mattress was cold, hard, empty. Not even an hour since he left y/n for good, and he was already missing her. Her soft body flush against his chest, as he inhaled her chocolaty scent. The little sighs she subconsciously let out when he wrapped his arms around her. The little twitch in her lips when he whispered something in her ear. It was too late before he realized what he was doing. His heart stopped as his mind screamed at him, you can’t think of her! You don’t deserve to think about her, let alone lay next to her!

Inhaling deeply, he curled up into a ball. How he wished he was someone else. If it weren’t for his past, he and y/n could have lived one of the sweetest lives. Sure, she was a Midgardian, he would still figure out a way to keep her with him forever. If only.

“Top of the morning to you, brother!” Thor’s voice bellowed. Loki groaned internally. It seems, while he was in the middle of his self-deterioration, he forgot to lock his room door.

“What’s gotten you so sullen?” Would he simply leave if Loki didn’t respond?

“Brother. Hello.” Thor said again, shaking Loki’s shoulders. Clearly, he was unaware of Loki’s mental state- but then again, Loki was always like this with everyone. Except his y/n. His y/n? Nope, not anymore. Just y/n.

“Thor.” Loki said, finally acknowledging his cheery brother’s presence.

“Ah, finally. It seems to be getting harder every day to obtain a response from you, brother, hence I must ask- is everything alright?”

Loki wanted to laugh. Hysterically. So, he did. Slow laughter built up in his throat, and before he knew it, his laughter boomed all the way from his stomach. Cold, dry laughter that would run chills up one’s bones. When was the last time he had laughed like this? Out of sorrow? Out of spite for himself?

“Whoa. Am I dreaming? I have never seen you laugh like this, brother. I am now very concerned for you.” Came Thor’s voice, causing Loki’s laughter to die down. Laughter is supposed to make people feel better, right? But the feeling in Loki’s stomach would prove that otherwise. I do not deserve to laugh.

“To what do I owe your presence, dear brother?” Loki was surprised his voice sounded so collected. Almost as if he didn’t just take someone’s heart and stomp all over it. His heart churned as he remembered what he had done. He just wanted to lay in bed and sob.

“It is mission day, brother! We must prepare!” Thor bellowed; his previous question forgotten.

“As it is. Leave. I shall arrive at the quinjet in due time.” Loki hoped Thor didn’t hear how his voice wavered in the slightest.

“Brother- “

“Leave, Thor,” he breathed, his voice cracking at the slightest, “I beg of you.” Maybe Thor didn’t sense the wavering earlier, but he definitely caught this. Besides, Loki never begged.

“What did you do, Loki?” Thor asked gently. It now dawned on him why Loki crawled into a ball. Since they were children, Thor had seen how he would do that every time something had hurt his heart.

Loki scoffed at how Thor questioned his deeds. Of course, Thor would suspect him of some wrongdoing. It was never ‘What happened, Loki?’. Just the accusatory, ‘What did you do now?’. Although, this time, it was his fault. All his fault. Monster.

“y/n,” he said.

“y/n? What happened to y/n?” Loki could feel the sudden anger surge in him. Big, ugly anger- filled with resentment for himself. Why won’t Thor leave him alone? Why can’t he just leave, leave Loki to rot in his room?

“I broke her heart, Thor. I took it, trampled all over it, and left her to scavenge for the shattered bits. Is that enough? Or would you like me to tell you more? Leave, Thor. Leave me alone. I will report at the quinjet for the mission soon.”

Thor realized Loki’s predicament. He knew a situation like this might arise sooner or later, but he hadn’t expected it to occur at such an intensity. His little brother had only begun to experience the joys of love, of living, he had just begun to heal, and his demons were eating at him already.

Sighing, Thor began. “Loki. Look at me.” When Loki didn’t respond, Thor forced him to face him and meet his eyes.

“I may not have a clue about how you deal with most things, but I do know what you are feeling right now, brother. I have known you for many millennia, and no matter how clever and secretive you are, I can always tell how you feel. You feel undeserving of y/n, am I correct?”

Loki inhaled sharply at Thor’s accurate judgment. Was he so predictable?

Almost as if reading his mind, Thor continued, “You aren’t predictable, dear brother. In fact, you are far from it. But it wouldn’t take a fool to see how you feel about y/n. We all see how you look at her, Loki. Like you love her. Like you would do anything for her. But what you don’t realize is that we also see how she looks at you. She loves you, regardless of your scars, your past; she loves you for your heart- she loves you for you, Loki. Anyone who’s incapable of seeing that is simply an ignorant idiot.” Loki’s eyes widened at Thor’s revelation. y/n loved him regardless of what he had done in New York. She loved him, not because he was a god or a prince, but because he was him. Because he was Loki. How could he have been so blind? He wanted to smack himself for being so naïve & insecure. He should have just talked about it to y/n, like she always suggested. ‘Talk to me if you have a problem, Loki. It’s what all couples do. They support each other,’ she had said to him once.

“It isn’t too late. It never is. You can always fix it. Do you understand?” Thor said, bringing Loki back from his thoughts.

Loki needed to sit down and think, and Thor shaking him to elicit a response to his monologue wasn’t really helping.

“Are you done, brother?” Loki asked, his voice and face still monotonous. He needed time with himself. Besides, he never responded to Thor in any other manner. To break that ritual now was to sin.

Thor, however, couldn’t see past Loki’s monotony. Sighing, he said, “I hope you think of my words, Loki. You need y/n, as much as she needs you. Come to terms with that for yourself.”

\\

“Based on what we can tell, they’re going to ask us for the hard drive before they give us Agents Samson, Waller, Bryson, and Stevens- so we’re going to have to stay on our toes,” Hill began, Natasha and y/n listening on intently. Loki wasn’t anywhere to be found, but then he hardly attended the briefings. He simply read case files and had a pretty good idea of what was to be done. “Natasha will be our front. She will deliver the drive, while y/n and Loki go in search of the agents. We need to ensure that we find our men before the decryption of the drive.” She said, looking back at her tablet.

Just then, Loki walked in, looking as pristine and collected as ever. As if he wasn’t running on sleep from a day ago, as if he didn’t have a broken heart weighing him down. y/n’s anger surged. It was infuriating how he wasn’t affected even to the littlest. She put on her mask of indifference perfectly. Last night didn’t happen. Loki was simply her coworker, and she was going to have this mission take place perfectly.

“Um, Agent Hill? Is it possible for me to take Agent Romanoff’s position?” y/n’s voice rang before Hill could give further instructions. Loki noticed how y/n looked calm and ready. Ready, to pounce like the lioness she was. She didn’t acknowledge his presence. Usually, when they met up at briefings, she’d give him the tiniest of smiles, but the sparkle in her eyes would speak more than what they could converse in a lifetime. That one moment always made his morning. He wouldn’t deny the sting he felt in his chest when she asked Agent Hill to change her position.

Agent Hill looked into her tablet and frowned. “I’m sorry Agent y/l/n, but this is the best way we can proceed while ensuring minimal casualties. Loki’s seidr, accompanied by your stealth will help in a faster rescue. Not many people are capable of resisting Natasha’s sweet-talking, so it is best for her to be on the receiving end of the exchange.” she said, winking at Natasha; grinning as Nat returned the wink. “And guys, a quick note. We don’t know these people; we don’t know how they work. If in case shit goes down, call for backup. We’ll be in ASAP. You have a 60-minute time bridge to be in and out. If you’re not out by then, we’re coming in. Understood?”

Quickly sheathing her disappointment, y/n nodded in agreement, “Affirmative, ma’am.” It seemed as if she had to face him after all. But no matter, she reminded herself. I am a hero. An Avenger. My people before myself.

//

“Alright guys, let's move in. I will enter through the main, you both through the back doors. Wait for my signal, and as soon as you receive it, go. Do not waste your time. I assume you have memorized the floor plans?” Natasha asked, putting a gun into her thigh holster. y/n nodded as Loki simply stared.

“Go on then, good luck.”

Loki used his magic to put some sort of cloaking around himself and y/n as they walked quietly towards the backdoors of the abandoned silo. The rival organization had set up a temporary location there for the exchange, and their current invisibility enabled them to walk comfortably.

Loki took a deep breath. It was unwise to have a conversation, nevertheless an intimate one during a stealth mission, but he had to talk to her. Let her know that he was sorry.

“y/n, I have to talk to you about earlier,” he began, looking for a reaction in her.

He waited for a moment. Several moments.

“y/n.” he tried again.

Nothing. Not even a flicker of emotion in her.

“I’m sor- “

“Don’t. Don’t for one second, think you can talk to me. Not after what you did.” She sneered at him, fresh fury blazing in her eyes like Greek fire. Loki flinched at her sudden reaction. He never flinched. “You do not get to talk to me after I bared myself open to you like I did, only to have you scoff at me, and deem me worthless.”

y/n was now angry with herself. It enraged her how Loki was able to elicit such a response from her with 3 mere sentences. She had to stay more collected. Ignorance, she decided. The best choice of weapons.

Loki decided to attempt again later. He could not give up on his love. He could still hear Thor telling him about how he could fix it. Loki used his seidr to pick the lock on the back door. So far, they couldn’t see anyone. No snipers, no guards, nothing. He ignored the chills that ran up his back.

y/n had her gun at the ready. It didn’t matter if they were invisible, there could be heat sensors. She wasn’t going to let the little kerfuffle from a few minutes ago faze her. Her skin rose in goosebumps as she sensed the eerie silence. Something was wrong.

On Natasha’s command, they moved in, both walking on guard in perfect formation. y/n in front of Loki, with her gun out, while Loki stayed behind her with his daggers in his hands. They walked around each other in perfect sync as they scanned their surroundings. They moved past the pitch-dark corridors as y/n tried to look for signs of an ambush. So far, they had to have encountered at least a few guards. The plan was to silently take them out as they continued to look for the kidnapped agents. y/n looked back at Loki and turned away before he could make eye contact with her. His heart pumped steadily, his blood filling with adrenaline in response to the suspicious silence. They approached another door, and based on the floor plans, they had to go through the room ahead. The only problem was that it was a very big, and possibly empty one. Some sort of a torture chamber, y/n figured, from the lack of furniture and other basic things. She cracked the door open. A single chair. That’s all she found in the center of the room. Was that blood? y/n’s muscles froze as she noticed the table with numerous surgical tools- no, torture devices. A little knife-like object laid in a steel tray, covered in blood. And fingers. So many fingers. y/n gasped at the image in front of her. The junior agents had been tortured in the very room they were in. She looked around for active cameras. 4 in each corner of the room. She was thankful for the invisibility curtain Loki’s magic was able to provide. Suddenly, Loki was tapping at her shoulder, trying to get her attention. He frantically pointed at a bundle in the corner of the room. White sheets. Drenched in blood. She moved towards it slowly. Please don’t be what I think it is. Please.

Uncovering the flimsy cotton, her eyes widened. “The Agents.” She breathed, meeting Loki’s eyes. He looked as mortified as she did. All four of them were dead. Tortured, left to bleed out slowly. It’s a trap. y/n realized, her blood curdling up. Only then did she notice the tripwire around the sheets. We’ve been tricked.

“y/n!” came Nat’s voice in her earpiece. “y/n- it’s a t-t-trap! Crack. G-get out of t-there! N-n-now Crack. R-r-rendezvous at-t b-back- Crack.” not even the static in Nat’s transmission could have left them confused about what they had gotten into.

In a blink, there were lights, everywhere. Red lights, lasers, sirens, noise resonating all over. They had been spotted.

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here,” Came a deep, cold voice from behind them. A man in a white coat, followed by a woman who seemed like an assistant- who was followed by at least a dozen men who looked like SWAT agents, except they had much more brandished weapons. The 2 doors in the room shut with a bang, leaving Loki and y/n trapped; with 4 dead agents, and the many people who probably wanted them dead- but not before having their fun.

“Agent y/n, and Loki, the God of Mischief.” He sneered at them.

y/n pointed her gun at him while Loki drew out his daggers and flipped them. That would have had y/n swooning on a good day, but not today.

“The one and only,” Loki stated. “Now let us through, or it will be the end of our short-timed pleasantries.” he sneered, adrenaline flooding in his veins, causing his green irises to turn almost completely black.

“Now, now. There’s no reason to be so hostile,” the man said, his mouth twisting into some crooked sort of smile. “After all, I am sure you do not have the capability to fight past all of my soldiers.”

He was right. Loki’s seidr could probably take out a few, and y/n’s ammunition a few more, but not before they were electrocuted or whatever those hi-tech weapons were capable of. She needed to contact backup. And fast.

“Let us out, unworthy scum. We’ve given you the intel anyway.”

“Behave, Agent y/n. Do you really think I’m stupid enough to fall for a corrupted drive?”

Loki wanted to smash his teeth in. How dare he talk to his beloved like that?

“And you are?” y/n asked the man, changing the subject and trying to stall him. The drive plan had failed, which meant that Natasha could be in trouble. Besides, they needed to come up with a new plan to get out without any more trouble. Not even 10 minutes in, and they were already cornered.

“Fred. I am also a doctor.” The grey-haired man said. y/n would have laughed if she wasn’t already upset and running on almost no sleep.

“.. your name is Fred?” she asked, silently trying to reach for her walkie.

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“No, but I was expecting something more ... traditional. Something that would suit that malice in your eyes a little better,” She stalled. “Something more Russian. You look very Russian.”

All Loki could do was stare at y/n with a prideful smile when he realized what she was trying to do. His little lioness, so daring and clever.

Grinning like a madman, Fred turned to his assistant. “I like this one. Although, what’s all this about being Russian? I just don’t get it.”

y/n would have responded if not for the dart in her neck.

“Hey!” she felt the poison running through her veins in no time. Her sight faltered, her own voice sounding distorted.

“No!” Rang Loki’s panicked voice. His heart fought against his ribcage. What had he done? If only he hadn’t gestured at the bundle, if only he told y/n it was better to leave the moment they spotted it. They knew the junior agents were dead the moment they saw it, what was the need for him to have y/n uncover the sheets?

“Don’t worry, Mr. Laufeyson. It is only a sedative. Your girlfriend will be fine.” The doctor chortled.

It was now y/n’s turn to freak out. “How did ... how did you…” she mumbled; her eyes widening at the colors that brimmed in her vision. Her heart calmed to a surprising rate, a sloppy smile on her lips as she sank onto the floor.

“Please, Agent y/n. Like I said, I’m not stupid. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice the way you look at each other?”

Thor’s voice rang in Loki’s ear. ‘It wouldn’t take a fool to see how you feel about y/n, Loki.’ He would have smiled if it weren’t for their current state.

“Mmm,” y/n hummed. Understandable, she wanted to say. “Un- un- under the sea.” She managed, with a goofy smile and a giggle bubbling from her chest.

Chuckling at y/n, the doctor said, “I’ll see you soon, Mr. Laufeyson.”

That was all Loki heard before everything went black.

//

He gasped loudly as he woke up. Where was he? He scanned his surroundings and realized he was in a lab-like settlement. No doors, just 2 bullet-proof glass windows behind which a number of doctors and agents stood. Along with Fred. His heart sped up as he took in y/n. Strapped onto a bed with numerous wires attached to her head. She was still unconscious from the sedative. He pulled at his arms only to notice he was shacked to the walls.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Mr. Laufeyson!” Loki heard a cheery voice through the speakers. “Shall we begin?” Fred asked, pausing for a few moments as Loki realized he was waiting for a response.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his mind numb. How was he going to get out? Where was Agent Romanoff?

“Ah, so glad you asked. This nice lady here,” he gestured, “is Doctor May. She specializes in hypnotism.”

What did they need a hypnotist for? If they were planning to hypnotize Loki, they were in for a disappointment because that really wouldn’t work on him.

Looking at Loki’s expression, the doctor smiled. “Don’t worry, it's not for you! It's for our dear y/n here! Doctor May here has so skillfully come up with a serum that we can test on y/n. We’re going to turn her against you, watch an epic battle- to the death; and if she survives, hooray! We’ll have her rejuvenate and train before using her to infiltrate SHIELD!” he cooed. His tone did not go with the threats he was spewing. "Oh, I also forgot to mention, we're giving her superstrength, just for the sake of it. see what happens."

Loki’s blood turned to ice. “What if she doesn’t survive?” he asked, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer.

“Oh well, if she doesn’t, we’ll harvest your powers and whatnot! But not to mention we will be very disappointed in her.” The doctor said, frowning playfully.

Loki’s chest seemed to cramp up onto itself. He tried to pick the locks on his cuffs with his seidr.

“Did you really think we’d let you have seidr while in captivity? Gosh, SHIELD. Keep thinking I’m stupid. See what that does for you.” Fred mumbled, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“No! No. Fred. You do not want to do this,” His silver tongue was the only thing he could rely on now. He couldn’t let them hurt his y/n. Ignoring the sweat running down the side of his head, he donned a sweet smile and crooned, “let her go. I am far more powerful than she is. If you release her, I promise to submit to you, causing you no difficulty. My seidr and my other strengths. All yours. I will give you any intel you need.” He promised, his nerves slightly betraying him. That’s it. Take the offer, Fred. Let y/n go. It’s my fault she’s here anyway.

“Hmm, let me think,” Fred said, placing his index on his chin. Uh oh. “How about no?” he snapped, quickly letting that carefree smile adorn his face again. Loki’s smile faltered. “Unfortunately, your proclamation isn’t as fun as my idea, Mr. Laufeyson.” No seidr, no backup. He was going to have to fight the one he loved.

“May, commence operation Omega!” Fred yelled, bouncing on his toes. “I’m so excited!” he yelled, his arms flailing around. Loki couldn’t help but notice how the man’s appearance did not suit his personality even by a percent. Creepy.

He watched as y/n’s body started shaking. She was seizing. His stomach dropped as the horror registered in his mind. The wires suddenly detached from her head with a sickening pop as she opened her eyes. Her e/c irises now glowed bright blue. Like electricity in her fibers. Loki’s chest clenched at y/n’s foreign expression. How long had it been since they got in? Surely Agent Hill must have realized something was wrong by now?

He flinched as the shackles around his hands clicked open. He was incapable of fighting y/n, let alone killing her. He couldn’t stand the idea of landing his fist on her.

“Ah, hello? Subject 7? Can you hear me?” Fred’s annoying voice crooned.

“Yes,” y/n said, her face devoid of any expression. Almost as if she was a robot. Loki’s skin rose up in goosebumps as he heard her cold emotionless voice. This was not his y/n.

“Good,” the doctor beamed. “Destroy.” That’s it. One simple command for y/n to turn to Loki and snarl at him.

“y/n,” Loki whispered. No, no, no. He felt tears prickling in his eyes. He’d rather die a thousand deaths than lay a hand on her.

“You’re pretty. But I’m going to kill you.” y/n smiled, her mouth letting out a little giggle. That wasn’t her giggle. It was cold, malevolent.

“Doctor May, what was that? It was cute, but I don’t remember asking for that?” Fred asked, frowning at the lady. Stuttering, she said, “I-I believe the serum hasn’t taken complete effect, sir. Part of Subject 7’s personality i-is still accessible to her.”

“Aw,” Fred groaned. “Do I have to kill you, Doc?” he asked the lady, whose eyes were now wide as saucers.

“N-no, sir. I assure you it won’t be a p-problem. I will have it fixed b-before administering the next dose.”

“Okay!” Fred smiled again.

Loki overheard their little conversation. Could he still reach for his y/n, which was buried underneath the cold exterior, courtesy of the serum?

“y/n,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. She didn’t respond, but simply charged at him with a growl.

Loki dodged her, putting a safe distance between the two of them before trying again as his mind screeched at him. All your fault! Why did you let y/n uncover the sheets? You knew it was dangerous, you knew they were dead!

“y/n, it's me,” Loki said softly, trying to get her to look at him. He took a step towards her when he saw that she wasn’t going to lunge at him.

“y/n … I know you’re in there.”

Loki thought he saw a flicker in her eyes.

“Doc! What’s going on?” Fred exclaimed; his face glued to the glass.

Loki decided to get closer. “My love,” the words sounded foreign to his ears, no doubt, but it had never felt so right.

“Come back to me,” He whispered, reaching for her; tears obscuring his vision. “Please.”

y/n lunged at him; a perfect roundhouse directed towards his face. But Loki’s reflexes had always been faster. She circled him, like a predator assessing its prey.

Fred banged at the glass. “Subject 7! We do not have all day!” He yelled, and now y/n was rushing towards Loki. She swung her fist at his jaw as Loki dodged her, only to receive another punch on his throat. Coughing and sputtering, he glanced at y/n, his eyes speaking words he never had a chance to say. Rubbing his neck, he said in the gentlest voice he could muster, “Please, my love. You do not have to do this,” he paused, gauging y/n’s reaction. He noticed how her movements faltered every time he spoke in that gentle voice. “It’s okay, y/n,” he whispered, his eyes holding hers as he reached to cup her face. Everything slowed down when clarity sank into Loki, chilling his bones like ice on a hot plate. He now knew what he had to do.

“It’s me, look at me, my love,” he breathed, his eyes searching hers. Flicker. His y/n was fighting underneath the shadow that had taken over her body.

“I love you,” He whispered to her. 3 words, just 3 words to let her know how sorry he was. To let her know he never meant any of it. to let her know, that it was all his fault.

“I love you, my darling, I always have; I’m so sorry this ever- “ Loki’s voice muffles down as the next event unfolds.

She’s suddenly kissing him, she’s kissing him like she’s never kissed before- raw and hungry- and for one moment, for one moment y/n's emerged from the shadow of the serum- to tell him, tell him that it was okay. That she understood. One kiss to let him know that she’s forgiven him, one kiss to let him know that she loved him too. Loki’s eyes widened as her warm lips held onto his like her life depended on it- except this time, it did- and he was kissing her back before he knew it. he wrapped his arm around her, his other arm knotting in her hair to support the force of the kiss- and he’s crying, he's crying as her fingers tangle in his hair, he’s crying like he’s never cried before- the tight wraps around his past wounds ripping open, he’s crying like he’s never going to experience this feeling ebbing from the depths of his heart ever again--

And he’s suddenly on the floor with y/n’s hands around his throat, her eyes electric blue again, a menacing smile playing on her lips.

“Yes! Yes!” Came Fred’s voice. “Finish him, Subject 7!”

y/n stared at Loki, her hands lowly tightening around his throat. He could only stare back at her, his tears running silently as he placed his hands around y/n’s wrists.

“Do it, y/n. Do it. I did not deserve you anyway,” he said as he choked on a sob, “but I just want you to know- I have always, always loved you; and I wish last night never happened. I wish for you to never, ever experience the pain you felt last night, I wish for you to be treated like the queen you are- “ he paused, meeting her eyes, a thousand emotions swimming in his mind; making it impossible for him to speak the numerous confessions he was attempting to make.

“I love you, y/n, and I regret not believing you when you said you did too.” He choked out before shutting his eyes and accepting his fate. He embraced death like an old friend, waiting for it to swoop in and steal his soul. He waited for that cold feeling of release, of being free. He would die for her instead.

“I love you too. I never stopped,” He heard a sweet voice whisper. He opened his eyes to y/n’s e/c ones. She had fought the serum. Her lips quivered as tears brimmed in her eyes, freely falling down her cheeks, as Loki’s hands reached for her cheeks. “I love you,” she said, and everything blows apart as the building explodes.

// a week later//

y/n opened her eyes to 2 smiling faces, groaning at the throb in her head. She noticed the other Avengers next to her, all smiling, grateful that she was okay. She was in a hospital bed.

“Welcome back!” Natasha and Steve yelled, causing y/n to shut her ears.

“Guys! Stop yelling!” y/n manages to say before furrowing her eyebrows and shutting her eyes.

“How long was I out?” she asked, her eyes still shut.

“a week,” Sam replied from her left.

“Whoa.” She whispered, trying to recollect the events that had unfolded.

She froze as the images came rushing back to her. She tried to kill Loki. Then she kissed him. ‘I love you,’ he had said, and the building had exploded on their fragile reconciliation.

“Loki!” she gasped, sitting back up, her eyes flailing around to look for him. Was he dead? Please don’t let him be dead.

“y/n! Calm down! You have 3 cracked ribs, not to mention the messed-up head, thanks to serum Omega. We need to make sure it still isn’t in your bloodstream,” Nat says, holding her down.

“Is Loki okay?” she asks Natasha, her heart in her throat.

“I'll bring him to you,” the red-haired agent smiles at her, before turning to the door. “Stay put,” she calls behind her.

“What happened to Fred?”

“Who?” Steve asked quizzically.

“That weird doctor.”

“Oh, probably died from the explosion. Our people are there as we speak, y/n, we’ll find out soon. Feel better, we’ll tell you the rest later.” he said with a warm smile.

How did they manage to get out? Sure, she was knocked out after the explosion, but she did witness the intensity. It would have been impossible to extract them from underneath the rubble- unless--

“y/n?” Loki’s tentative voice came from behind the infirmary’s door a few moments later. She looked at him, searching for any injuries he might have sustained. Loki ran up to her, grabbing her face, “You’re okay.” He said, kissing her gently. He snickered as y/n’s hand crawled up into his hair, pressing his lips into hers harder.

“So are you,” she smiled, looking at him with a look of pure adoration.

“What happened?” she asked Natasha, her fingers looping into Loki’s as he sat next to her.

“I escaped, noticed that you both hadn’t made it to the rendezvous point only to encounter more agents, fought my way out, called for backup, and the rest is history. The question is, what happened to you? We got only Loki’s version. Gotta hear yours,” she says, all in one breath.

“Perhaps give us a while before that?” Loki asks her, Natasha gasping slightly at the little smile on his face.

“Careful Loki, smile any wider and people might think y/n’s making you go soft,” she joked and turned around to leave, gesturing at the team to follow.

“Hey you,” y/n whispered, her index tracing Loki’s jaw. He leaned down to envelop her in yet another kiss, this one sweeter than the best Asgardian mead, filled with promises of tomorrow. He smiled into the kiss when her fingers knotted in his hair.

“I love you," Loki whispered, thanking whoever that he could say it to her again.

"Forever?” y/n asked, her voice still hazy from the kiss.

“Always.”

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Confidence to inspire fear

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )

The bridge of the freighter felt like it had become a nightmare as Lithel awoke.

He tried to open his eyes but even when open the room refused to stop spinning. One of his upper left eyes refused to open and as Lithel attempted to reach up with one of his arms he found that he could not move it as well.

Tilting his head down and saw through his blurry eyes that a section of the bridge ceiling had collapsed atop him and was pinning him to the deck. He tried to rise but the weight was too heavy. Just as he began pondering if this would be his end he felt the debris shift atop him. "Captain!" Lithel heard someone calling him but the sound felt like it was coming from everywhere. "Captain can you hear me!?"

Blinking several more times Lithel was able to focus and he saw his second in command Michael rushing over. He could hear several other footsteps approaching and not long after the metal pinning him to the floor being lifted off and a strong pair of arms pulling him out.

"I got you sir, just take it easy."

Lithel moved his mouth to thank him but nothing came out but a soft gurgle and whimper.

Only now as he was pulled free did Lithel see the damage done to his bridge. Halve the consoles were shattered, the data streams were flickering rapidly as an overload of information from across the ship poured in, and at one of the walls had several panels blown out and were currently on fire.

Michael helped lay him down across the floor while a medic rushed over and began treating him. Lithel was about to sit up and take back his command throne when the communications officer rushed over.

"Message coming in sir; it's from the pirates."

Lithel's eyes went wide and he tried to sit up but Michael put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. They had served together aboard the Red Manta for some twenty years and had developed an understanding that needed no words.

He saw the look in Michael's eyes and knew he would take care of the situation and instead laid back down.

"Put them through." Michael said as the communication officer scurried off and began fiddling with the only remaining working communication console.

Within moments the data feeds stopped streaming information and displayed an image. On the opposite end series of figures could be seen standing around a command throne similar to Lithel's were it not for the adorning skulls and bones of various species draped over it.

They were muscular mixture of aliens ranging from lizard like creatures with sharpened teeth to thin limbed beings looking like living twigs, and even a strange blob like creature that had a knife wedged within it. But the most impressive of the figures was sitting atop the throne itself.

It had the shape of a humanoid figure but it appeared as a swirling cloud of black ink ever shifting. It wore no clothing and had no distinguishable features save for a pair of crimson red eyes.

"Surrender."

It was a single word spoken by the black ink creature before Michael could even say a word. The crew around it chuckled and laughed as if sizing up their soon to be prize; though Michael would soon throw a wrench into their celebration.  

"Are you insane!?" he spoke. His stance was firm and unwavering with his feet planted into the decking as if he was bracing for a storm. "Do you have any idea what you have done?"

"Who, are you?" the black ink creature spoke as it raised a talon like finger at Michael, the ink bleeding off of it in drips as it did so.

"I am Captain Michael Zbari of the human reformation, transporting goods to the homeworld."

The pirates appeared confused at this announcement and murmured among themselves before the ink creature held up a hand. The medic treating Lithel appeared to take just as much of the confusion from the announcement and was about to say something when Lithel forestalled him. He knew Michael was playing a dangerous game, and it might just be there only way of getting out of this.

"You, lie." The words were spoken as if through water and Lithel could barely understand them as the thing continued. "The captain, is not human; this, we know."

"First you attack my ship unprovoked and now you claim I am not captain of my own ship?!"

His confidence radiated from him as he spoke and some of the pirates appeared taken aback. They were the ones who had attacked and now had them all at gun point. With a single word they could destroy the Red Manta and be on their way yet this human was acting as if they were the ones who should be sorry.

"Do you have any idea who are cargo is for?" Michael continued. "Should, we, care?" the ink being replied. "You should when Emperor Galvoc finds out you stole his personal shipment."

The smirks of the pirates dropped away instantly at this. The mere mention of the human emperor's name gave them pause as if they had just been struck by a cannon. The ink being leaned forward now on both arms and fixed the camera with a burning gaze.

"You, lie."

Michael scoffed at this and raised his arms out. "Nineteen containers of freshly cut refrigerated Borgan meat, twelve containers of the finest wines of the Nebula Rim, thirty six crates of gem stones from the fire pit mines of Draxon Iv, and that's just the tip of the ice berg."

The ink monster relaxed back into it's throne at this. "An, impressive, haul, indeed." it said and some of the pirates began grinning again but Michael continued to speak.

"For one with a death wish, an impressive haul for sure."

Michael stepped towards the monitor. "You could kill us and steal all of our cargo to sell but it won't matter; because the emperor will hear of this and will hunt you down to the farthest ends of the universe."

The ink thing chuckled and Michael's face frowned. "By attacking his shipment you have essentially declared war on him; you do realize that don't you?"

At this the black goo like creature stopped chuckling.

"He controls the largest fleet of ships to ever sail the void;  their numbers alone change gravity of entire systems with their passing."

"His armies are beyond counting and the march of their feet can crack planets in two."

"The depths of his depravity for torture against his enemies boundless and of such horrific that even the Draxic are afraid to incur his wrath."

Fixing an equally dark glare now Michael faced down the ink being. "You have no idea the hurricane you just sailed into."

The pirates began to argue among themselves but the black creature let out a deep roar that sounded as if bubbling tar could scream.

"He, will, never, know!" it said, "We, will, be, long, gone, and, you, all, dead!"

It was Michael's turn to smirk as he pulled out a small box like device with a blinking red light.

"This, is an emergency transmitter capable of reaching across five sectors." he held it out clearly so all the pirates could see. "Once activated it calls in a relief fleet to warp to our position within twenty minutes; and I activated it fifteen minutes ago."

For the first time the ink creature rose from its throne and pushed several of the pirates aside with surprising strength for a creature that appeared to be made of living oil.

"You, bluff!" is said.

"You could stay and board us to call it, but when they arrive and blow your scrap heap of a ship out of the stars I don't think it'll really matter what you think now will it?"

The two stared down each other, neither speaking a word yet unwilling to back down in the face of this challenge.

Lithel watched with ever clearing eyes as the pirates became increasingly anxious.

"Tick." Michael made a sound similar the clock arms of his wrist time device. "Tick, tick tick tick."

"Silence!" the ink creature bellowed, but Michael continued.

"Time's running out for you." His face was devoid of emotion save a devlish smirk. "Tick, tick, tick, tick!"

"I said silence!"

"Time's running out little pirate." Michael quipped back, "Tick, tick, tick, tick!"

The pirates were not frantic and some even began talking to the ink creature in an alien language none of the red manta crew could understand but it appeared to upset the ink being.

Letting out another roar the screen suddenly went dead leaving the bridge crew silent as the repair teams finally shuffled in to douse the flames.

Through the viewport Lithel could see the pirate ship burning retro boosters and turning around as fast as it could before warping away.

Michael stood upright for a few moments more after they fled back to the warp before collapsing down to the ground. Streaks of sweat began pouring down his face like rivers and he began breathing rapidly.

Lithel raised himself on to his arms unsteadily and looked at Michael.

"How did you know that would work?"

Michael looked at him as if he just remembered he wasn't alone on the bridge and looked embarrassed.

"When you act like you have the backing of the biggest thug in the yard, the other rats tend to leave you alone."

"So by claiming to be the emperors personal shipment.." Lithel began as he connected the dots.

"They would fear the hell hammer that would fall on them should they attempt to steal from the biggest threat the galaxy has ever seen."

Lithel was surprised that such an act of subterfuge worked but they were still alive and he would be the last to complain on how it was handled. He did point to the strange blinking box Michael still clutched in his hand.

"What is that device?"

Michael looked at it for a moment before chucking it over to Lithel who gracefully caught it mid air.

"It's a remote control for my room lights."

Lithel looked at it dumbfounded but before he could inquire more from Michael he saw his second in command pass out on the bridge as the stress of the attack and the performance he just made finally caught up to him.

[allandoflimbo]

Ashens (Part 19)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian. 

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 3,000

Chapter Warning: Smut.

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

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You were woken up to the violent sound of vomiting.

Opening your eyes, you noticed the bedroom was still pitch black, so it must’ve been very late. Drowsily, you sat halfway up and looked over to see that Bucky wasn’t next to you.

You cringed as the soft glow from the A.I hit your irises.

The vomiting started again, followed by retching. Always being an emetophobic, you tried to ignore it, swallowing down thickly. You didn’t want it to affect you.

You stayed that way, sitting up and waiting for him to come back inside so you could ask him if he was okay.

After some time, You laid back down, and stared up at the ceiling. You grew concerned as long seconds turned to minutes.

He was taking too long for your liking.

Having made up your mind, you tossed the comforter aside and made your way to the end of the bed.

You hesitated for a moment before standing up. Your eyes quickly darted over to a pillow that was in the foyer, wondering how the hell it got there. Quietly, you made your way down the hallway until you saw the bathroom door ajar. The lights were on.

You stopped next to it before looking inside.

“Bucky?” You called out. Your voice was timid and soft.

No answer.

You began to hear crying.

Your heart tore in half at the sound. It was loud, but it was heavy. You could tell that he was trying to contain it as much as he could.

You grew even more concern, this time knocking softly on the door before pushing it open.

There he was, half hunched over the toilet, his other half falling towards the floor turned away from you. His metal hand gripped the side of the toilet while his right hand pulled at his hair.

You watched as he shook, sobs racking his body.

You didn’t want to seem annoying but you found yourself feeling scared.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t say anything.

Blindly, he reached for the lid and closed the toilet. Then he crawled over to the wall directly in front of him, right next to the shower, and fell up against it.

He grabbed at his hair with both hands. You watched as his knuckles turned white.

He let out a groan as he started to shaking his head back and forth, sniffing hard. He ran his hands down his face before letting them fall at his sides.

The look on his face was heartbreaking.

He looked like he was suffering some kind of pain that you couldn’t physically see. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, tilting his head up towards the ceiling.

You know that it wasn’t something he ate. That’s not why he was sick. He was going through something emotionally.  This was mental turmoil.

You didn’t realize how true your words rang about him needing to get help until now.

“Nightmare,” he says so quietly and out of breath that you wouldn’t have caught them if you weren’t staring at his lips, “nightmare.” He repeats again, almost defeated.

He looked disappointed in himself.

Bucky isn’t sure if he dozed off but when he opens his eyes again, you’re knelt down in front of him with a glass of water.

He looks at the glass and back up at you. You looks so scared.

He takes the glass and downs it in a few seconds, scorched.

He hands you back the glass.

“Thank you.” His voice is hoarse.

You put the glass on the floor and he watches your movements, still in a heavy daze.

When his eyes meet yours again he can see the worry in your eyes.

“You’re sweating so much.”  You grab a towel from one of the cabinets and hand it to him. He takes it from you but just holds onto it, letting his eyes close again, “You don’t have to tell me what it was about, but I’m glad you’re awake. You’re here now.” You say.

He physically cringes at the end of your sentence and you notice.

You take the towel from him, seeing he wasn’t even using it, and your roll it up. You bring it gently to his forehead to wipe away his perspiration. He shivers at your touch. He watches you intently. You look so innocent and sweet on your knees like that, and the memory of how he’s treated you in bed eats away at him. Not only was it a distraction, but you weren’t a piece of meat. He doesn’t understand how you still care after all he’s done to you.

You continue to wipe down the sides of his face, and eventually, underneath his eyes where the tears have now dried.

You were beautiful.

“It was a memory.” He says as you finally pull away from him.

You do a double take. You didn’t expect him to tell you this.

“I was,” he looks away from you, “it was nineteen fourth five. I was in Germany.”

He looks at you hesitantly and you give him a short nod, raising the towel back to his forehead. “Hydra—Hydra had me go to a base, just outside of Buchenwald. эти проклятые ублюдки.” He mumbles is disgust, sniffing, “There was a concentration camp nearby,” you watched as his flesh hand shook violently at his side, “It wasn’t instructed for me to be there. But we took the drive by, and I —“ his voice broke and he closed his eyes again, “I remember the smell, the smell of death, and I remember the bodies. I

remember children watching, this one young boy, and I did nothing.”

He was surprised when you took his metal hand in his.

“Bucky…”

“I don’t understand how I couldn’t control myself, my body, how I could let it happen, how I couldn’t save him. It was like deep down somewhere I knew it was wrong what I saw but I couldn’t —”

“You need to stop blaming yourself for something that is not your fault.”

“I was a Nazi.” He spats like the words are venom.

“You were not a Nazi. They took advantage of you and you know that. Even if you did what you did, you weren’t aware of it. Those monsters did that. Not you.” Your grip on his hand was tight and he could feel it, “you were a  young boy that they —“”

“I should’ve been stronger. I should’ve fought against them harder.”

“It was against your control.” He’s stunned at your conviction and he watches you curiously. You tilt your head at him, “But look at you now. Look where we are. You’re here to save the world. Everyone outside of The Capitol is counting on you, wether they know it or not. And that is something that it is you that is doing. This is who you are.”

Bucky closes his eyes together and another grimace fills his features. You feared he would start crying again.

“Have you—have you ever spoken to someone before?” You ask gently, “Bucky?” You repeat when he doesn’t answer.

“I did. I had a therapist, but it didn’t go well. I eventually just started to going to Sam,” you nod. You feel him grab your flesh hand, and he runs his thumb over the top of it. The act startles you, “but you don’t understand. I’m not just a veteran with PTSD. I’m different.”

His touch was hot against you.

“And I get that,” your voice shook slightly, “but you can’t stop trying.”

He tilts your head at you this time.

“Trying for what? I’ve tried what I can and I still feel empty. It’s not that I’m unhappy, I’m just, I don’t know.”

“You have suicidal thoughts.”

The silence that follows your comment is palpable.

“My time has come and gone,” his voice is filled with emotion and you feel your own eyes fill with tears, “I am glad I am doing this. I���m glad I’m here on this mission. But after this?” His eyes are filled with tears and you can tell he’s clawing at anything at this point, “give me something to live for.”

You slowly let go of his hand to wipe under your own eye. His words hurt you deeply. He was in so much pain you could feel it yourself.

Maybe you were an empath or maybe it just hit too close to home for you.

“I was bullied my entire life,” you started slowly, watching as his eyebrows came together, listening intently to you, “People made fun of me because I was always different. I didn’t hang with the cool crowd or the regular crowd. People always assumed things about me because of my parents. They always thought that just because mom and dad thought a certain way or had money, that I was taking advantage of them or I also thought like them. Nobody in my life ever took the time to get to know me just for me, and I was a girl that always cared about everyone, regardless of that.” His hand tightened around yours, “It didn’t matter when they dropped Mac and cheese down the front of my favorite sweater or when they would make me drop my books in the hallway and then laugh, because I knew they would grow up one day, and I knew the things that thought about me wasn’t true anyway,” Bucky’s heart began to fall as tears filled your eyes and your voice began to waver, “but I was still human.” Your voice broke. You cry quietly. You run the back of your hand under your nose,  looking away from him, “so of course I still got sad. I got depressed. I used to eat lunch by myself in a dark classroom everyday. How could something like that not affect a person? At one point I also thought to myself, is this how I’ll be forever? Alone? Hated for no reason? Will no one care? Why am I here?”

The amount of guilt that consumed Bucky was intense.

A month ago he had selfishly vowed to not get to know you because he was afraid of getting too attached to his mission partner. Now he’s cursing himself for unbeknownst doing something that was your ultimate weakness and your greatest pain. Because of it, he had underestimated everything about you. You were already beautiful to him, but knowing your heart was just as pretty made him feel other things for you. Things he hadn’t felt in close to a century. It terrifies him.

The last time he felt this way about another woman, because of him, she was killed. He couldn’t handle that again, the risk or the pain.

“I’m sorry .”

“But I still stayed strong, because someone did end up giving me a chance.” His eyes meets yours, “Will.” You breathe his name, “And he got taken from me. You know what that taught me? That it might seem bad right now and like the future is impossible, but life is full of great surprises, too.”

Bucky watches as you grab the cup, getting off the floor. His heart is still swelling.

“About what I said yesterday,” you stop at the sound of his voice, “I was out of line to blame you for what happened between us. It was my idea, and I took it out on you because I was scared we ruined the mission. I wasn’t in the best mood. I take blame.”

You look down at the floor, somehow still feeling hollow inside.

“Thank you.”

“I—” he cuts himself short and clears his throat. You turn around to look at him. He wasn’t on the floor anymore. He was standing and he looked a bit shy, “Look, what I said before about us not doing anything ever again…” his voice runs off as he swallows down and looks down shamefully at your feet.

He felt disgusting. He felt insanely attracted to you and you didn’t even know it. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep using you, he wished he could give a part of his heart to you and if this was a different life, maybe you two could work out.

He feels disgusted with himself. You deserved so much better than him.

“You know what, it’s okay. Forget I was going to say anything.” He whispers, clearing his throat after. You watched as he walked over to the cabinet to grab a larger towel.

You don’t how what it was. Maybe you’re growing up. Maybe you’re changing, but you walk over to him and grab his arm.

He looks over at you surprised.

“It’d be different this time.” You say, eyes darting over his nose, lips, and neck, “before there was hostility and pent up energy. We’re friends now, right?” You searched his eyes.

He squints at you.

“I guess we are.”

You nod.

“Friends with benefits?”

“Friends who occasionally just have sex?” He asks.

“We’ll make rules. No physical gestures that can have a double meaning, no intense eye contact, just something to get our edge off.”

“No kissing, anywhere.” He says, “And only at night. During the day, we act like it doesn’t even happen. We can’t allow distractions.” “And when the mission is over—”

“We go our separate ways.” He finishes.

You continue to stare at each other for a few more seconds before you give him a nod. He watches you as you walk away.

He’d always watch you as you walked away.

+ + +

“This show is the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen. You like this?” Bucky asked with a mouth half full of sushi, pointing his chopsticks at the screen, comically.

You smirked as you took a sip of your water.

“This show is a classic. You just don’t get it because you’re old.”

“I’m not that old.”

You snickered.

“You old old man.”

“Shut up.” He says, “it’s not even from this century, right? What year did you say this came out?”

“Nineteen ninety four.” You grumbled, looking for another California roll in your plastic tray, “It the epitome of nineties and early two thousands era. It takes everyone back to a good time, before everyone used to just text each other.” You shrug, “it makes me happy.” You look over at him to see his eyes glued to the screen and a smile playing on his lips despite his verbal hate towards the show, “you don’t even have one character you like?”

He shrugs.

“Chandelier is funny.”

“Chandelier?” You laugh out loud, placing your tray on the coffee table as you do so. Bucky watches you, captivated by your laughter, “you mean Chandler?”

“Sure.”

You continue to glare at him, giving him a small smirk.

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

“I won’t tell you.” He says shoving another sushi in his mouth.

You continued to stare at him, intrigued. Was this the real Bucky Barnes finally showing his true colors?

Ever since your talk in the bathroom last week, things between the both of you got better. Despite the blow out fight you had in the kitchen the other day, you really were friends. Friends in the most messed up sense of the word.

After your talk, you both had agreed to becoming friends with benefits, but you had yet to consummate the agreement.

The mission had kept you both very busy, between you trying to avoid Silas at work and keeping your eyes for any other possible intel, to Bucky staking out his nights at the tower trying to find new information on Ashen, including where he lived.  

Tonight was the first real night where you both felt relaxed for the first time in a very long time. Maybe too relaxed.

You heard Bucky snicker as a scene unfolded on TV -and you tried to contain your smile.

He liked it. Bucky liked Friends.

You watched from the corner of your eye as he leaned forward and put his own tray on the table.

“Does this remind you of your childhood?” He asks you.

“Kind of. I was very little when it ended but I remember that time period, yes. The world was different.”

“Tell me about it?” He asks you.

You perk a brow at him.

“Sure, but only after Ross accidentally says Rachel at the alter.”

“What?”

+ + +

“Could you stay on your side and with your fair share? You keep hogging up the blankets and the bed, Y/N.”

“I’m trying to make a cocoon because last time you snatched all the blankets in the middle of the night while I was asleep and I had to sleep shivering in fetal position.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

“Not.”

You both calmed down until you started moving your legs around, trying to find a comfortable position.

You stopped, and then started again, tossing and turning.

“Oh my god, if you don’t stop I’ll cut off your legs.”

“Do it I dare you.”

“God.”

“It’s not my fault it’s somehow freezing and super hot at the same time.”

Thankful, he thought you had finally found a comfortable spot because you stopped. He was wrong because you started moving.

Fed up with you, he quickly turned around and grabbed your leg.

“Stop.” You stretched down to push his hand off of you when he grabbed your hand and quickly held it up against the pillow next to your head. He did the same with your other and caged you under him with his legs.

You were breathless as you stared up at him. Finding the proximity intoxicating.

He was panting against you as he stared down at your face.

He watched enthralled as you whispered the undeniable words:

“Fuck me.”

+ + +

His boxers had been flung somewhere across the room and he had your legs right around his waist.

He followed your rules. No excessive gestures and no eye contact.

He hated it. He absolutely hated not being able to cup your face as he stared down at your nose, his cock thrusting into your at a languid pace. Slow and torturous.

Instead, his hand grabbed at the pillow beneath your head.

Bucky moaned as he felt you squeeze around him.

“God, you know just how to do it to me.” He mumbles, licking his lips.

“Faster.” You whine, tightening your legs around him.

His thrusts pick up speed as he continues to fuck you for several minutes. Eventually he switches to hold onto the head board.

His right hand leaves it to hold onto your waist and his eyes goes to where his dick is fucking you.

You were so perfect for him. If this were another lifetime, he knows he could be good for you. He knows this could’ve have had a different ending. You were so good.

When his orgasm hits him, he flicks your clit with his thumb and he unravels with you. You both cum together.

When he goes to bed later than night after slipping out of you and throwing away the condom, you don’t feel used like you used to. At least you don’t think you do.

But you still wished you didn’t love him anymore. You wished he felt the same, and you wished you had the strength to stop torturing yourself.

As you looked out into the city with your bare back facing his front, you reminded yourself that Bucky Barnes would never love you.  

This would always be just sex. And when it came to your friendship, it had no future. You were to both go separate ways at the end of this mission.

@snakeeatery17 @utterlyhopeful-fics , @marvelfan1017, @iheartsebastianstan , @annathesillyfriend , @redhairedfeistynerd, @perksofbeingabookworm, @amyrose051, @meegggoooo, @morganclaire4 , @captainchrisstan, @bxndys , @shoesonpointe ,  @writerwrites, @rainbowkisses31, @lindatreb , @littlemissner98 , @dezzylou24, @ayeitslelee , @hardygal69 ,  @emmabarnes , @redbarn1995@thequeenreaders@ilovemysupersoldiers@maximumplaidzonknerd@ceapa-mica @s-trawberryv-eins@buckysknifecollections@sobangie@lindatreb@theseuscmander @nervous-plant @wildmoonflower @aya-fay@appreciating-fanfics @kaitlynisinfinite@justreadingfics@kaitieskidmore1 @mrsdancing​

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

scopaesthesia 👁️ chapter 1

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, mentions of death, murder, violence, stalking, paranoia and other warnings to be added

This is dark!Bucky Barnes with a likelihood off dark!Steve Rogers as well and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Someone’s watching you.

Note: This one’s gonna be a bit creepy as it features a serial killer and stalking and all sorts of creepery. It’ll be about two or three parts!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The bleak headline glared across your screen as bleaker weather fogged the glass of your window. 

'Grisly murder suspected to be connected to previous incident'. 

You shivered as the steam rose from your mug and the smell of roasted bean filled your nose. The city was on edge. Death was not unfamiliar but killings so methodical were. There was a pattern that no one could deny, even if the media left out certain bloody details.

You tapped the porcelain and turned to look at the misty cityscape beyond your building. The city had a pulse; the car horns, the puffing manholes, the endless parade of footsteps on the pavement. The immortal metropolitan was unaffected by its mortal occupants.

You closed the window on your phone as you turned back. You couldn’t finish the article. To think that any human could do that to another; that any should suffer at the hands of another… One could never truly be immune to the helpless despair. It was a chance that set one in the hands of a monster, as much chance kept one from the same fate. 

You finished your coffee and ate a bagel before you readied for another day lost in the sea of people below. Another day at your desk answering phones and staring at a screen between greeting many who acknowledge your existence with impatient disdain. 

The same daily ritual in the mirror; another department store blouse, another grey skirt, another pair of low pumps. You grabbed your pea coat and your leather tote and hurried out to catch your train. Twenty minutes with your favourite podcast before you pulled the cord and ran off into the concrete jungle.

Another coffee at your desk; the watery fare from the staff room machine. You sat and began your work. Fake smiles and a sickly sweet voice for every caller and visitor to the small office. Log this, change this, email that. The mindless toil bearable only for the promise of your box-like apartment and its tiny comforts. 

You never stayed in the office for lunch. Not anymore. It made the days suffocating, even on rainy or snowy days. You went to the park to eat, although sometimes you weren’t hungry. You watched the ducks or the shedding trees or the teens playing hooky and puffing none so subtly near the bushes.

When you returned, you felt at least that your break hadn’t been wasted even if it had only been more sitting. Ring, ring, click, click, tap, tap, cough, cough. The hours wore on in monotony. Nothing unexpected, nothing more than tedium. The most exciting part was when the clock bid you to leave.

You were almost so lost in the endless banality that you didn’t notice the man behind you until you boarded the train. Until you sat and took out your phone. You pretended to be enraptured by the screen as you scrolled through unread emails and peeked up at him. He stood by the door. His eyes avoided yours.

When you stood at your stop, he did not move. Not until the door began to close and you were near the turnstiles. His shadow was a fleck at the edge of your vision. He was definitely following you. You thought of the article, and its precursor the week before; the suggestion that the murderer had already amassed half a dozen victims. You shrugged away the paranoia and climbed the old filthy steps to ground level.

As you turned the corner onto your street you stopped and waited. The man nearly passed you as he came around the bend and you cleared your throat. You gripped your keys in your fist, ready to stab the man with the largest one.

“You following me?” You asked as pedestrians bumped into him and passed by. 

He moved out of their path and stood beside you against the wall. He smiled to himself and scoffed. His blue eyes ran you up and down and you felt as if you’d seen him before. As if you knew him from somewhere. You just couldn’t place it.

“I am.” He confessed. “You’re very… observant.”

“You’re not very subtle,” you countered. 

He lifted his head and reached inside his jacket. He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open. Capitals ran across the top; S.H.I.E.L.D. and below a name and picture; James Buchanan Barnes. You sighed and crossed your arms. Your spine went rigid. What on earth could he want from you?

“So…” You pushed yourself away from the brick wall, “How exactly can I help a government operative?”

He glanced around and tucked away his wallet. “Is there anywhere private we can talk? You live around here?”

“Private? At least tell me what’s going on?” You huffed.

“For both our safety, you need to wait for that answer,” he hook his thumb in his jean pocket. “But if you don’t give a shit, I can leave you be and see what happens.”

You frowned. You were confused and slightly afraid. You couldn’t guess at what could have brought him to you. A man you’d only ever seen on a screen.

“Fine,” you adjusted your bag on your shoulder, “Across the street.”

He followed you to the curb as the blood swelled in your ears. Your cheeks were hot and a chill gripped your neck. You crossed between the flooded New York traffic, aware of his shadow at your shoulder. His boots barely made a noise on the pavement as your short heels clicked noisily.

You led him into your lobby and fumbled with your keys. You shoved them into the slot and the door clicked open. He grabbed it before you could and waved you inside. You remembered him now. You rarely saw him without another. In your mind, the man didn’t exist exclusive to his old pal, Steve Rogers.

You stopped just inside the door and kept yourself from hitting the elevator button.

“Mr., er, Agent Barnes--” You began.

“Bucky is fine.” He corrected

“How do you even know who I am?” You asked suddenly. “I’m… nobody.”

“As I said, I’d prefer somewhere private,” he urged, “It’s protocol for this type of circumstance.”

“And which type is that?” You challenged as he stepped around you and hit the button.

“The type where you should stop worrying so much about me and more about yourself,” he said as the doors slid open, “Come on.” He stepped inside and turned, “What floor.”

“Third.” You answered as you entered the small box, “I’m in danger?”

He was quiet and his left hand balled into a fist then released as he stared at the numbers. You could hear the strain in the leather glove. 

When the doors opened again, he let you off first and kept a step behind you as you led him down the hall to your door. You paused and looked back at him as you picked out the right key. He was impossible to figure out; stone-faced and staunch. You opened your door and welcomed him in with a flutter of fingers.

He shut the door and locked it behind him. You dropped your bag on the shoe rack and kicked your shoes beneath it. Your arches were sore as you backed up and watched him. He looked at his boots and back at you. You shrugged off your jacket and he sighed before he did the same. He reluctantly knelt to unknot the laces of his boots.

“Should I… get you something? Coffee?”

“This isn’t exactly social,” he uttered, “Can we sit? There’s a lot to… explain.”

“Sure,” you led him to the couch and sat. He lowered himself on the other cushion, on the edge as he kept an eye on you.

“Okay, so you’re first question, how do I know who you are?” 

He leaned against the arm and dug out his phone. He unlocked it and flicked through its content. He turned it towards you and you frowned at the picture of yourself. You behind your desk, the phone to your ear, as you scribbled on your notepad. He dragged it over and another appeared; you at the grocery store. A third, you at the front door of your building.

“What--”

“These were found at a crime scene.” He interjected. He flipped his phone and searched through the images, “Do you know this woman?”

He showed you the screen again and you shook your head. Whoever she was, she was a stranger to you, although you couldn’t say she didn’t look familiar.

“Her?” He brought up another photo and got the same answer. Three more times as the hair stood on your arms. You didn’t know any of them but they all looked alike. They all looked like you.

“What’s going on?” You asked in a brittle voice.

“You read the news?”

“Sometimes.”

“You’ve heard about the murders? Of the women?”

You nodded and gulped. Your eyes rounded as you trembled in disbelief and fear. “Why are you here though? Why not the cops?”

“They are doing their part and we’re doing ours. You see, we found more than just the photos. Due to security protocols and to protect both of all, I can’t divulge all the evidence I can only say that it brings it under S.H.I.E.L.D. jurisdiction.” 

His thumb slid across the screen and revealed another picture. One of the women with a welt across her neck and sloppily down make-up on her face. You blanched and he looked down. He cleared his throat and blackened the screen.

“Sorry,” he put his phone back in his pocket. “You shouldn’t… Look, I know it’s a lot to digest but it’s better you know.”

“But why are you here? I don’t understand… why did he have my picture?”

“From what we can tell, who it is has been following you. These killings seem to be steps on his path to you. He didn’t have anything about the other women. No photos, no writings--”

“Writings?” You gasped.

“Take a breath. Be calm.” He said. “I’m here now. To protect you.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“Well, I guess that’s the real bad news.” He said. “I’m gonna be your shadow. Now, since we nearly got this guy and have all his stuff, we know he’s scrambling right now. He’s hiding, waiting to come back to you but we know he’s not dumb enough to do it yet. Which is why I am here at this very moment. When he does return, when he’s watching you, I’ll be watching him.”

“You can’t-- You can’t move me?”

“Scaring him away won’t do anything. You’re safer if we can catch this guy. We can’t let him know that anything’s changed.” Bucky said. 

“So… I’m bait?”

“You’re safe.” He insisted. “You’ll have my number, you can call me anytime. And I won’t be far. Not really. And I don’t work alone. You’ll be protected.”

“Why are you telling me then if you’re just going to let him keep following me?”

“Well, we waited until it was crucial to let you know,” he said, “And given his desperate circumstance, we think you should now.”

“Do you know how long--”

“Months, years, we’re still combing through the evidence. We only know he won’t stop.” He shifted on the couch. “And I’m telling you because there’s a few things I need from you.”

“Like what?” You scoffed.

“A key to this place. Just in case. And we’ll need to keep a close eye on you. That means, you’ll have to wear a bug and we’ll be tracking your location.”

“What?” You shook your head. “That’s… a lot.”

“We need to know if anything happens immediately and we need to be able to get to you. If you do this, it will help us get him sooner and hopefully, that means that you won’t have to do it for long.”

“I’ll have to have the key made,” you said quietly.

“I can take care of that,” he stood and you watched him cross the room. 

He went to the coat rack and reached into your jacket pocket. He took your keys and set his phone on the small round table just beside the shoes. He placed one key on his screen and it made a chirping noise, he turned it over before doing the second key. He dropped them back into your pocket and grabbed his phone.

“This,” he stirred around in his own jacket, “Has a mic and tracker.” He held up the golden chain with the small pink rose ornament. “Wear this and that’s it. That’s all we need. If you take it off, hang it somewhere it won’t be obstructed.”

“Okay,” you got up slowly and took the necklace from him, “Um, thank you, I guess.”

“Look, I know it’s all a bit fucked up but it’s to keep you safe.” He said. “And you are safe, okay? I’ve dealt with much worse than this creep.”

👁️

There was rarely a morning when you were eager to be awake but that morning came crashing down on you with a sense of doom. You rolled over and opened your eyes. The golden necklace hung from your bedside lamp, dangling, calling to you, reminding you of the man who had stalked you back to your apartment. And the other man who loomed in the shadows. A stranger who apparently knew you well.

You sat up and clipped the necklace around your neck so you wouldn’t forget. Was it Bucky listening to you? Was he even listening so early? You stood and ambled across the room with a yawn. Today, the rain left a sheet of frost on the window. Was it winter so soon?

You drank your coffee without tasting it and chewed on a piece of buttered toast. Your phone buzzed. Private number was all it said but you knew who it was.

‘What time do you leave?’ Bucky asked. You typed in the number and nothing more. He already knew which train you took.

You dressed as you did every day. You pulled the necklace over the collar of your shirt and sighed. You felt awkward as if you were living in a simulation; a facsimile of your meek existence.

Ready to face the day and the unknown, you set out as you flicked away another message; ‘You have a break? What time?’ You’d answer him after you got to work. You couldn’t be staring at your phone knowing that someone was undoubtedly watching you.

You stood on the train, too antsy to sit. You waited by the door, ready to bolt off at the slightest sign of trouble. You played with the rose charm without thinking. Your phone buzzed and you quickly drew your fingers away.

Another message from your private caller. 'There's disturbance on the mic. Stop touching.' You almost laughed. It was comical. You'd be an awful spy but you weren't anything close. You were prey.

What would have happened if those pictures had not been discovered? You hated to even think of it. So you pushed away the thought and got off the train.

The streets felt darker even as the grey sky paled. Pedestrians were villains, each one sinister and plotting. When you got to work, you were out of breath as you had nearly broken into a sprint.

You sat and clocked in. You took out your phone and responded to the texts but got nothing back. You hung your jacket on the rack in the corner and went about your usual routine but nothing felt usual. The incessant ringing of the phone and the chatter of the office added to the chaos of your mind. You tried to distract yourself with your work but found yourself fidgety and anxious. Every unfamiliar face that walked through the doors was a potential suspect.

When you took your lunch, you stayed in the office. The break room was empty as you sat and your phone vibed in your blazer pocket. You answered the private number and unwrapped your granola bar.

“You on lunch?” Bucky asked, you confirmed with a mumble. “Are you okay?”

“Am I? What’s going on? Anything?” You stilled the crinkling of the wrapper, suddenly sick to your stomach.

“It’s not going to be that easy or fast. Right now, he’s waiting for us to look away but he could also be in a panic which means he could do something impulsive.” Bucky explained.

“Impulsive? What does that mean?”

“Look, you don’t need to be afraid. I got this. This is nothing compared to what I usually--”

“Nothing?! Well maybe you’re used to this but I’m just a secretary, okay? I don’t know what I’m doing or what to do!” Your voice was shrill as you crushed the granola bar in your hand.

“Take a breath,” he said firmly. “Calm down and proceed as usual. I’m here. I’m watching.”

You sniffed and struggled not to hyperventilate. When you finally got your breathing under control you nodded into the phone and murmured a pathetic ‘okay’.

“Hey, you don’t need to be afraid, okay? Not with me around. So far you’ve been lucky. We figured it out before he got to you and now we’re way ahead of him and he doesn’t even know it.” Bucky coaxed.

“Yeah, I guess,” you deflated and stood from the table; restless. 

You went to the kettle and flicked it on. Shaena was always offering you peppermint tea; you’d take her up on that. Maybe it would help calm you down.

“How about tonight I’ll come buy with a pizza and we can go over protocol?” He offered. “And it’ll be good for you not to be alone.”

“Pizza?” You frowned.

“Well, you know, I’m sitting on surveillance all day, I don’t exactly get to relax,” he explained. “...you can say no but it’d be my treat.”

“I’m sorry I’m panicking. I’m just… scared. I didn’t sleep-- I--” You choked on your voice. “You don’t mind?”

“Do you?” He returned.

You sighed and opened the cupboard to grab a mug. You tapped your fingers on the countertop.

“This must be really boring for you,” you said. “You don’t have to--”

“If I’m being honest with you, it’s supposed to be freezing tonight and I don’t exactly get to hang around in a five star suite. You’d be doing me a favour and have the extra security of some goon with a metal arm.” He chuckled.

“Alright,” you threw your hand up. “But I don’t like pepperoni.”

“Damn…” he uttered, “Well, I guess we all have to make sacrifices.”

👁️

You were slightly less frantic when you left work. Bucky texted you to assure you he was there… somewhere. You took your usual route. He explained it was best not to change your routine. You didn’t want to tip off the creep.

The train ride was slow and jittery. The frigid air of the looming New York winter crept in between the door and you shivered as you got off at your stop. Your heels clicked around you as you gripped your bag and the phone in your pocket. You struggled not to look around and try to search out your stalker.

You unlocked your door and dropped your bag beside the shoe rack. You kicked off your heels and rubbed your legs together to warm up. You hung your jacket and took your phone out as you began to pace your apartment. 

How close was Bucky? How close was the killer?

You kept checking your messages and then slammed your phone on the coffee table. Stop! You were driving yourself crazy. You made yourself sit and flipped on the television. You put on an old sitcom and tried to settle in. You squirmed on the couch and found it difficult to follow the episode.

Your phone lit up suddenly and made you flinch. The sky was already dark through the window as your ringer blared over the television. You reached for your cell; Private Number. You answered clumsily and pressed it to your ear.

“Hello?” You rasped.

Silence. You blinked and repeated your greeting. Still, the line was quiet. You shook your head and hung up. Before you could toss your phone, it shook again and cried out a melody. You answered again.

This time heavy breathing greeted you. It got louder as you listened and a trickle of ice rolled over your spine. You ended the call and stared at your phone. A third call. You slowly hit the green icon and then turned the phone to speaker.

“Don’t you ever hang up on me.” A man snarled in a crackly voice, “Ever.”

“Who… who is this?”

“Shhh, baby girl, I won’t hurt you. I just want to make sure you’re safe.” He said, “That’s all I want.”

“Who are you? What do you want?” You gulped.

Another silence. This one long and exaggerated, pierced only by a metallic whisper. “...You,” he purred darkly, “I want you, baby girl. I want your blood, I want your screams.” You shook as you dropped the phone, his voice muffled but his words clear, “I want that precious little cunt.”

You sobbed and bent to grab the phone again. Your thumb hovered over the red button.

“Baby girl, I told you about hanging up on me. I hope that’s not what you’re thinking of now.”

You said nothing as your eyes burned with frightened tears and you looked down at your necklace. Could Bucky hear? Where was he?

“Soon, I promise, we can be together,” the stranger cooed, “You and me. All alone.” He took a deep breath, “All mine.”

“Please, leave me--”

The line clicked and went dead. You stared at your phone and jumped at the sudden knock on the door. Your fingers curled around your cell and you stood. You crossed to the door. You peeked through the peephole. Bucky stood with a pizza box. You opened the door sharply.

“Where were you?” You snapped.

“What?”

“He just called!” You nearly shouted.

“Keep it down,” he warned as he stepped inside and you retreated. He closed the door and locked it. “He called?”

He went to the kitchen and set the pizza down. “Just now?”

“I thought you were listening? I had him on speaker.”

“I… I’ll have to play it back. I was on my way, I didn’t--”

“You-- you-- The things he said,” you croaked, “You can’t imagine and, and… how did he get my number? You said he would be hiding!”

“Well, these things aren’t exactly cookie cutter--”

“What if he’s watching me right now? Looking in through my window and--” Your voice was shrill as you rung your hands and brushed by Bucky. He followed you to the window as you twisted the blinds shut. “He’s going to kill me like he did all those girls. He’s going to--”

“Come on,” Bucky grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the window, “Just breathe.” He turned you to him and placed his hands on your arms. He rubbed them through your blouse. “In, out…” He began to guide you, “On my count; one, in, two, out…” 

Your eyes rounded and you struggled to calm yourself. You were shaking but managed to measure your breaths in time with his voice. 

“That’s it,” his hands framed your face as he leaned in to look you in the face, “I’m here now and if you need me to, I’ll stay all night.”

You nodded dumbly and grabbed his forearms. His metal thumb stroked your cheek and you slowly pulled his hands away.

“Bucky…” You whispered as he slowly dropped his hands. “Thank you.”

[dogbearinggifts]

What are your thoughts on tua S2? Did you feel like the characters grew? What did you like? What did you not? I’m interested in your perspective. Your analysis are super thoughtful and interesting!

Aw, thanks, Anon!

Overall, I really enjoyed S2 and thought it was a solid follow-up to S1. I do have my quibbles about it, so I think (for ease of reference and because my thoughts are a little scattered today) I’ll list some of my personal highlights (in no particular order) before getting into what I didn’t like as much.

Big spoilers ahead.

Allison. I thought they handled her storyline especially well. Of all the siblings, I think she had the most difficult obstacles placed in her way (not only is she a Black woman landing in 1961 Dallas, but she’s a Black woman landing in 1961 Dallas who can’t even speak in her own defense for a year) and they sugarcoated exactly none of it. The writers pulled no punches when showing what civil rights protesters went through, which just made their nonviolent response all the more breathtaking. Allison’s fear and anger during those scenes were palpable even as she kept them hidden. But along with that horror, we see the kindness and warmth of the Dallas Black community, the women who take her in simply because she needs their help, and her love for Ray, perhaps heretofore THE most thoughtful husband ever portrayed on screen. I loved him, and I loved him and Allison together. While I understand and respect his choice to stay in 1963, I wish they’d gotten more time together. They both deserved it.

Vanya. We got to see how much the baggage from her past affected her by glimpsing what she might be like if it were taken away. It’s an interesting philosophical question, and it was explored well, in my opinion. She finds it easier to love and be loved, and she stands up for herself more readily—but she also doesn’t hesitate to use powers she can’t quite control and threatens Five without fully realizing how dire her threat is (or how it might dredge up traumatic memories she doesn’t know exist). The moment where Ben finds her curled up, fully convinced she’s a monster, was heartbreaking. I loved watching her find happiness with Sissy, even if that was fleeting (and dear god, Sissy deserved her happy ending with Vanya, dammit, I don’t care if it would fuck up the timeline). Her patience and sweetness with Harlan were just beautiful. And the way she used the confidence she gained during her amnesia to fully come into her own not to exact revenge on her siblings, but to save them, was fucking phenomenal.

The humor. There was a lot more humor this season, and it was awesome. So many iconic scenes—Olga Foroga, Luther babysitting two homicidal Fives, Elliot awkwardly lecturing his guests on the history of Jello, “NEW TIMELINE NEW ME,” “Your vagina needs glasses,” AJ the fish gobbling up the cigarette bubbles, Five getting to say “fuck”….this season was a lot funnier than the previous one, and I think that was one of its strengths.

Klaus’ cult. It was played for laughs, which I both expected and thought was the best way to handle it. He didn’t want to start a new religion with himself at the center; he just wanted to not get thrown out of any more diners, but Destiny’s Children had other ideas. The “I too am a fraud!” scene was hilarious and tickled the question of whether or not a religion founded on false pretenses can still help those within it find meaning.

Luther. Getting him away from his dad, his siblings, and the Academy was exactly what he needed to become the pure of heart and dumb of ass genius we always knew he was, but his first major step in that direction was heartbreaking. We all knew he’d be rejected once he got to the Academy. We all knew Reginald would rip his heart out and stomp on it in his admittedly fashionable shoes. It gets Luther out on his own and forces him to become his own person apart from his dad, but that doesn’t make it any easier to watch. He got the positive character development he needed, but the catalyst was tragic.

Diego. We see, for the first time, exactly how Reginald kept him in line—not with meds or with PTSD-inducing torture, but with words. Even when he knows Diego as little more than a stranger, Reginald is able to rip off his skin and fling it in his face with a single diatribe; and even at 30, with years away from his dad, Diego is left unable to speak, feeling as if all of his accomplishments up to that point were the work of a dumb kid who thought he was smarter and more capable than he actually was.

Luther and Diego sharing a braincell. Luther has bad ideas. Diego has bad ideas. When they put their bad ideas together, they get terrible ideas. I loved watching them work together as a team, rather than being at each others’ throats for most of the season, even if I’m left hoping Olga Foroga had a pleasant and quiet day after that phone call.

Reginald. At first glance, it may look like the writers were trying to make him likable so they could parade him around as your average abusive-parent-with-a-soft-side. But it’s more nuanced than that. Abusive parents (and abusers in general) often fly under the radar because they fool outsiders into thinking they’re good people. They’re active in their communities. They give to charity. They have friends who attest to their virtue, significant others who think they’re the greatest. And that’s what we see with Reginald. We see him as the rest of the world did: an intelligent, eccentric man with a sharp sense of humor who cared deeply about scientific advancement. That’s how he evaded suspicion—because there were stories from years past of lively parties at his mansion, of what a gentleman he was to Grace and of how he did everything he could to save little Pogo. But those stories would all have come from people he considered his equals. When he’s with people he considers his inferiors—aka, the Umbrella kids—he’s openly condescending and demeaning. We get to see how he fooled the world, and it is chilling.

Elliot. He deserved better, and you can ship him with any one of the Hargreeves kids and get the cutest thing ever. 

The Swedes. They said so much while speaking very little.

Ben. He got more personality and screen time, and it was glorious. His love of his family and resentment toward Klaus practically leapt off the screen. The way he says “I’ve missed you all…so much” once they’ve all left was one of those right-in-the-feels moments; and watching him get so much of what he’s wanted for years when he possesses Klaus was beautiful.

Now, as for things I took issue with….

Ben. I understand why they ended his arc the way they did. I get that they were probably afraid the Klaus/Ben dynamic would grow stale if they didn’t change it somehow and wanted to give him a larger role in S3. His death(???) was heartbreaking and extremely well-done. But it also wasn’t foreshadowed. We never got any sense of what ghosts in the TUA ‘verse are, so the fact they can be destroyed by a ton of sound-turned-energy or by going too far into someone’s psyche or whatever happened….it’s not that it doesn’t make sense so much as there’s not enough evidence to determine whether or not it makes sense. It feels like the writers just kinda made that up so they’d have a reason to change Ben’s relationship dynamics, but if that’s the case, couldn’t they have done it another way? Couldn’t they have made it so the immense energy or psychic woo-woo or whatever gave him a power-up instead of destroying him? Vanya transferred some of her energy into Harlan and brought him back to life. Couldn’t something similar have happened with Ben? And if it tied him to Vanya as well as to Klaus, great! More fodder for angst and humor! (”Vannyyyyyyyy, stop hogging Ben!” “You got him for 17 years, Klaus, you can part with him for 20 minutes.” “Guys, don’t I get a say in this?”) I’m glad they didn’t write him out of the series entirely, but I still wish they’d kept him and all the character development he’d gotten throughout S2.

Episode 10. It looks like they tried to cram half a season’s worth of developments into 45 minutes. Twenty minutes in, I’d already said “Wait what the fuck” half a dozen times. A lot of those moments were explained later on, and I was able to make enough inferences to fill in any lingering plot holes, but…still. Too much stuff, too little time. E9 was a perfectly satisfying ending to the season. Yes, it leaves the siblings stranded in 1963, but they could’ve tied up those loose ends in the S3 premiere.

Lila. She’s an incredibly fun character, but her arc is kind of a mess. Most of that is due to E10, and I do feel that more time to let her arc breathe would’ve worked wonders, but I’m left feeling like her turn from “Handler is the best mom ever and I lurve Diego too” to “KILL DIEGO AND HIS EVIL FAMILY” to “Handler is a bad mom and Diego is right” happened too quickly.

The Commission. Okay, so, the Handler announces the entire Board has been killed, and she’s stepping in as director even though everyone appears to know she’s been demoted (and demoted pretty severely—she went from having an office bigger than some apartments to being a case management drone). There’s suspicion and lots of it. But then, La Resistance is….ten or so people in a single room? And when she calls the temps agents to her side, thousands of them show up ready and willing to fight and die? I dunno. Just seems like there should’ve been more splintering going on there. Again, I think they needed more time to tie everything up.

Aside from those complaints, I loved the season. I set aside most of a day to binge it, and I do not regret that decision at all.

[pcvensies]

Perdóname.

In which while fighting monsters with the team, Leo accidentally burns you, and you pass out.

word count: 1683

trigger warnings: burnt wounds, angst!

info: leo valdez x reader, brother!jason, childofzeus!reader and gender neutral. sorry for the angst babies, ily 🥺💜

You breathed rapidly, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. Your hand held your sword tightly, fingers curled around it so strongly that your knuckles were white. The harpy looked at you with wicked eyes, pooled with darkness and hate, and something you could only determine as revenge. You were still covered on another one’s dust.

“Y/n, Annabeth down!”, you heard your brother Jason scream, “And I can’t find Percy and Nico!”.

Your eyes searched around for your boyfriend, Leo Valdez, but your search was interrupted by a slash near your ear, the monster’s claws almost getting you. You charged against her, but she moved fast, and hit you in the back, making you trip and fall.

You turned around on the floor, trying to slash her, but Leo’s voice calling your name made you calculate poorly, and you closed your eyes as the harpy sent your sword to the floor, ready for what was to come.

But it didn’t.

A wave of heat hit you, first from afar, then too close, and as the monster turned into golden dust by Nico’s sword, you screamed.

The skin on your arm was bright red and tight, and you felt dizzy as tears started to fall from your eyes, groans filling the now silent place.

“Y/n!”, the first voice you could differentiate was Percy’s, and you turned your head in pain to find him holding Annabeth in his arms, “Jason, Jason!”, he then called, as Nico kneeled next to you, holding your face.

You screamed again, your fist closed, nails marked on your palm as Nico forced you to look at him, begging for you to keep your eyes open. But your eyelids were heavy, and the pain was unbearable.

The last thing you saw before you fell into darkness, was your brother charging against Leo, who was standing there in shock, eyes on you.

[ . . . ]

Your mouth tasted like death as you opened it with difficulty, trying to take a deep breath, as your eyes shot open.

You found yourself at Camp, inside of the infirmary tent, barely able to move. Your legs hurt, and so did your back and neck, but you managed to look around. You looked at your left arm, completely covered in bandages from your shoulder to your wrist, then at your right arm.

A hand held yours tightly, and you recognised it to be your brother’s, who was sat on a chair next to your bed. His eyes were closed, and his head was rested back, a sad expression on his face.

You tried to speak, but your throat was dry and sore, so you squeezed his hand gently.

“Oh bless the gods, you’re awake”, he let out as he looked down at you, red eyes scanning your face in search of any trace of pain, “How are you feeling? Do you want anything?”.

You barely mouthed ‘water’, and Jason nodded, getting up and walking back to you with a glass, helping you sit up against the header.

He helped you take the first sip, then you held the glass with your healthy hand.

He had that hurt puppy look on his face, sad eyes and a frown as he looked at your arm. But he was also angry, tense. You could read him like an open book.

“We were fighting some harpies in—“.

“I know. I remember everything that happened. Even you going for Leo before I passed out”, you finally spoke, leaving the now empty glass on the nightstand, and holding his hand again.

You could trace some shame in his expression, but his jaw was tense, and he sighed deeply.

“Listen I—“.

“I want to see him. He must be terrified”, you interrupted him once again, “Plus, my arm is fine... It doesn’t even hurt”.

“Will is an amazing healer”, Jason spoke softly, “He said it won’t leave a scar. But he also said you needed rest, and that you’d be sore”.

You sighed as he had, and pulled your hold on him, resting your arm against your stomach, and looking away and groaning.

It was cruel, you knew. He was scared, worried, and you didn’t want to cause him more harm. But you wanted — no, you needed — to see Leo.

“I’ll get him, I’ll get him… but don’t be upset at me… Y/n, please”.

“Bring Leo and then we’ll talk, brother… But I am not upset. I promise”.

He nodded at your reassuring, and walked out.

After five minutes that felt like an eternity, the door opened again. And there he was, your boyfriend, standing with his eyes fixed to the floor, sniffing softly. He was shaky, you could tell from where you were, and he fidgeted with his fingers nervously.

He walked to you slowly, not looking at you, and he stopped by the end of your bed. Before you could say anything, a sob left his lips, and his shoulders started shaking as he cried, apologising over and over again between sobs.

“Leo… My love, no… No, no please”, you felt your heart break, voice cracking as you called him, raising your arms his way.

He walked closer, and you reached for his hands with yours, pulling them to your face and kissing his knuckles. They were bruised, and you felt tears form in your eyes.

“Leo, baby, look at me… Please baby…”, you begged, but he pulled his hands from yours, afraid he would harm you again.

He raised his head to look at you, his eyes red and puffy, lips quivering as he tried to speak.

“I’m so sorry— I hurt you, I— I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”.

You shook your head, one of your hands cupping his cheek gently, wiping away the tears that rolled down his face. Leo wanted to step back, to get away from you so he wouldn’t hurt you ever again, but your touch had a pull on him he couldn’t explain, and he leaned against your palm, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed as he took in shaky breaths.

You run your thumb over his cheekbone, sniffing softly, and he sat on the chair, pulling it closer to the bed.

On his face, all you could see was fear and sadness. Shame, and pain.

“You were trying to protect me, baby…”, you spoke softly, and he shook his head.

“I could’ve… I could have killed you, mi amor…”.

He looked at you again, teary eyes on yours, and you gave him a little smile, pushing some curls away from his eyes, playing softly with his hair like you knew he liked.

Leo sobbed softly again, his arms now wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your lap.

“Lo siento… Lo siento, mi amor… Perdóname, perdóname…”, he begged, as he hugged you tighter.

You run your fingers through his hair, cooing him as he started to calm down, seeing that you were safe, and weren’t scared of him.

The weight on his chest, however, remained. Guilt and fear gripping at his heart like trying to squeeze it, memories from his mother flooding his mind. He had hurt you too.

“I forgive you, Leo… please don’t cry, it wasn’t your fault… it was too fast, all of it, I know you would never hurt me, honey…”, you reassured him, leaning down to kiss his head, your hand running up and down his nape and shoulders.

He remained in that position for a few minutes, his breathing slowly calming as your touch helped ground him back, and then he sat back to look at you.

“Jason said he’d kill me… He would kill me if you had died…”, he started speaking, but when you tried to, he didn’t let you, “And I didn’t— I couldn’t say anything… because if you died— If you had died because of me, then I wouldn’t want to live anymore”.

Something inside of your chest jumped at his words, and your eyes filled with tears, but he raised his hand to cup your cheek. Leo stopped a few centimetres away, still wary about touching your skin, but you held it with yours, pulling it to your face.

He did as you had, his thumb caressing your skin with a care that he had never shown before, as gentle as he always was when touching you. His touch was warm, and familiar, and so soft it felt like he wasn’t really touching you, like if it was just a memory from the many times he had before.

“These past two days have been hell, mi amor… I couldn’t sleep, or eat, all I could think about was you being in pain, one I had caused”.

You turned your head to kiss his palm, and Leo flinched, putting his hand away from you. But you held it, bringing it to your face, and kissing his palm again, your eyes fixed on his scared ones.

“See? Nothing bad happened, baby. You didn’t hurt me”, you spoke sweetly, pressing little kisses to the palm of his hand, to the inside of his wrist and to his knuckles, always keeping your eyes on his, “You’d never”.

He nodded slowly, shoulders finally relaxing, and you pulled from his hand, moving a little to leave some room for him on the bed.

He hesitated, but eventually laid down next to you, his head resting on your chest as you both laid on your sides. His arms wrapped around your waist, Leo pulling you closer to him, finally allowing himself to hold you. You kissed his forehead, and he scooted up, facing you and leaning in slowly to kiss your lips.

“Te quiero, mi amor… Te quiero más que a nada”, he whispered against your lips, kissing then your nose and your forehead.

You cuddled onto his chest, his arms now around your shoulders, and you pressed a small kiss right under his ear.

“And I love you, baby… Always”.

[caesthetix]

A LITTLE FEAR — Pt. 1 The First Hello

↪Jean Kirstein mini-series

↪content; canon universe, description of violence, season 4 spoiler, forbidden love, marleyan!reader, scouts!jean

"I would love to know a world without fear."

The night was quiet as the moonlight became the only thing that lit up the space you were in. No sound could be heard, save for the subtle heartbeat that penetrated your hearing.

It was so chilly today, notifying you that it was almost time for winter. You never really loved the weather to say the least, because most of the time the room temperature could drop so much even when you had a heater turned on in every crook of your house.

You hated how your fingertips could feel so numb that you wondered if they were still there. You hated how you needed to cover your body, layer after layer just to keep you warm. You hated how you had to drink the hot chocolate that you made within two minutes or else it would go cold already.

But maybe this year, you had something that you loved from it.

A small hum coming from his lips, with how your head was laying on his chest, you could feel how the sound reverberated through it. His arms draped loosely around your body, securing you there in his embrace as his finger caressed your skin.

This was the warmth that you had longed for, a physical contact which you always seek. The one that could make you feel like everything would be alright, one that made you feel — safe.

"What do you mean by that, hm?" He asked nonchalantly, but you knew him enough to hear the serious tone from his composed gruff. His usually smooth and silvery voice now sounded a lot breathy, perhaps caused by how the clock was ticking right at one am.

You didn't look up at him as your eyes fixated on the moon outside the window. Though your mind was now wandering around, mulling if you wanted to have a deep talk tonight. Yes, you had talked a lot about humanity with him before, something that always made his orbs shone a little brighter.

But what you were going to talk about tonight was something more than just a dream or how the both of you saw the world you were living in. There was something more that you needed to know from him. Because somehow you had a gut feeling that something big would happen and alter your relationship with him.

Well, would alter whatever bond it was that you shared with this man called Jean Kirstein.

You shrugged softly before wrapping your arms a little tighter around his torso, snuggling your head at the crook of his neck before you speak up.

"You know, a world without war, a world without discrimination, without a judge from the outside," You trailed off, licking your lips as you continued, still not facing the man you spent the last few weeks with. "Without having to lie and hide who you really are."

There, that was the response that answered your curiosity. It was just a millisecond but you could feel how his body jolted a little. There was nothing in between you and him, you could hear his breath hitched, you could feel how the arms around you twitched.

And without him needing to say anything else, you knew it was there.

"How," He gulped down, and once again, you could feel it. It seemed like he was pondering if it was the right thing to ask, if your words were just a random opinion instead of a statement. But he knew you too, and he knew how smart you were. "How long have you known?"

You didn't move away, and perhaps that fact was enough to make him calm down a little. Your head was still positioned on top of his chest as if you hadn't just cornered him with your words.

"The second night." You even said it so easily. He whispered a low what? under his breath, but you could hear it with how you were literally skin to skin with him. "Don't worry, you are smart to cover all your tracks." Your fingertips trailing on his chest, tracing the marks that now looked like a permanent part of him. "But you could never hide this."

He chuckled a little at this, realising the slip in his cover. You didn't know what was on his mind, perhaps he blamed himself for exposing himself to you, or he wished he didn't fall for your charm. Neither way made you feel any better though.

"So my mistake is sleeping with you.” The way he said it was ambiguous. You knew that he just mumbled that to himself, yet you couldn’t understand if it was a question or realisation. And somehow with that choice of words, you could feel a pang in your heart as you were reminded by the truth.

You and him, it was all just a mistake.

A mistake that both parties knew. A mistake that you both understood yet turned a blind eye over it. There was nothing that could justify the rendezvous that you had with him. He was an Eldian, a man that could turn into a monster if given the titan spinal fluid, even worse, a Paradis citizen.

Then there was you, a pure marleyan, one of the people who wanted nothing but extinction to the island of Paradis. But you had another worst side, and that was the fact that you were the youngest commander of the airborne unit, one that belonged to the Marleyan Military air force. 

You were someone who had full control over dozens of airships and hundreds of troops. You were someone who sent people to the front line, bringing them to their death for your greedy country to get more and more, always unsatisfied and wanting another land to conquer.

You were even worse than him who just wanted the freedom that your country took away by force.

But you couldn’t help yourself as he slid into the barstool beside you that day. With his gentle smile, trimmed facial hair, and those magnetic brown orbs that glinted brighter under the dimmed light. You remembered how you let out a small gasp by just taking a proper look at him.

Lots of men and women threw themselves at you but never once you batted your eyes on them. But goddamn Jean Kirstein and his alluring complexion, making you stumble over your own words when he asked you a simple question — your name.

It needed you a minute to finally relax under his piercing gaze, and it only needed an hour for you until you let him take you away from the prying eyes of Marley. You gave in into his touch, calloused hands that rivalled yours. His breath reeked of alcohol and yet you let those plump lips steal the air out of your lungs.

You thought it would only happen once in your lifetime. That rendezvous was shared between two drunk human beings who got attracted to each other. Yet the two of you somehow stood in front of the same motel the next day.

And the day after.

And the day after that until you moved it to your apartment.

And for you, what you had with him was anything but a mistake.

You swallowed a huge lump, gaze hardening as you stared into nothing. He hadn’t said a single word ever since then, and you wondered if he was as disconcerted as you inside. But despite the truth that had been spoken, the two of you still huddled under the warmth of your cashmere blanket.

“I didn’t see it as a mistake, Jean.” You finally confessed, and you never been this scared in your life. You had been through a lot, watching Marleyan titans devour the enemy, scattered brains on the battlefield, and yet you were never once afraid you would be like them someday.

But this, this confession, this fucked up truth about your feelings and what he would do to it was a lot more terrifying than dying in war.

“I see.” You still held your breath even though you already got your answer. It was still grey, you didn’t know what he was thinking right now, not yet. “I, too, don’t have any regret over us.” And that, that answer was enough to paint it white.

You subconsciously snuggle closer, tightening your embrace as you didn’t want to let him go. There was a dream, deep inside your heart that someday everything would end with the whole world united to walk forward together. Without the need for destruction, without the need to shed another blood on their lands.

And just once, just when you were with him was the time you could feel that dream. You could succumb yourself into another world when you laid in his arms, thinking that the two of you were just a normal citizen who would do mundane work when the sun was up, and cuddled up together for every night that came.

But you knew, since the time you traced the marks on his skin when you were sober, when you recalled what your warrior friend told you about his time in Paradis and the gear that made him have permanent marks all over his body, you knew that what you had with him was just a small nirvana that your own mind created.

It wouldn’t last, you knew damn well it could never last. And even though he didn’t say anything, as someone who supposed to be the only one who knew about the truth, he decided to keep on going and entangled himself with you. 

For weeks, for weeks he had been here in Marley, doing whatever he needed to do behind your back. You both acted as if you did not belong to the different sides at war, talking and enjoying each other's company and sharing a glass of wine before he went back to his place when the sun was still hiding behind the horizon.

“I have a question.” He cleared his throat, deep in thought as his eyebrows scrunched from either confusion or disbelief. “Why did you tell me about Marley’s plan? Why did you share the war plan with me? Me, your enemy.”

You pondered, why indeed? At some nights he would ask you some questions. But there was nothing too explicit on it as you recall. He would just ask you about your day, about how tiresome your work was, or ask about your condition when you looked so stressed some of the days.

It was just a simple question, yet you always answered some of them with a long answer as you slipped in some information about war here and there. You didn’t do it subconsciously, of course, you were always being sus and never shared work-related topics with anyone outside of the military.

“Because I want you to live.” But he was an exception and perhaps he knew that already. “Even if it’s not significant, I want you to have more chances to be alive.”

You cursed the universe for giving you a chance to love like this. To care for a man that could be killed by your country, or even worse, die by your hand. Was there anyone like you too? A Marleyan who fell in love with Eldian, not just Eldian in Marley even, but the devils themselves.

Being a part of the Marleyan Military means that you knew the truth. You knew how many mindless titans that your country sent to Paradis, and the fact that a few years ago the colossal and armoured titan was successful to breach the wall, that would mean a lot of the citizens of the island lost their lives and home.

And you didn’t dare to ask him about how many family and friends that he had lost.

“You do know that you could be executed for sharing a war plan, right?” He asked with worry lingering in his voice, yet he sounded a little exasperated, couldn’t believe that you would jeopardize either your occupation or your life for him. “You are so reckless, I swear to God.” But at the same time, he was thankful too, because it really showed him how much you care.

“Hmhm, I don’t care.” You just shrugged it off, deep in thought as you thought that the execution was worth it. “I should have died in one of the wars that I went to, yet here I am. Embracing the fact that I might be in love with an Eldian devil.”

He squeezed your body tighter for a while there, just after you said those words. Life was short, you understood that well for becoming a commander at such a young age and had been through a lot of hell. But unlike a lot of people who decided to keep their heart at bay or threw it away, you chose to keep it.

Just because you were going to die soon, didn’t mean that you shouldn’t enjoy what life had given you.

You cared and loved your friends because you knew someday you wouldn’t see them again. You had a routine where you just sat on the porch and greeted your neighbours because tomorrow you might not be coming back. You made sure to send your family a letter here and there because who knows it would be the last.

And now, you felt a strong emotion for this man that you never had before with anyone else. It was not platonic, you actually wanted to attach yourself to him without force. It was what they called romantic love, and at this point, you didn’t care anymore that having this feeling could lead you to death.

“Are you going to attend Tybur's speech tomorrow?” This question piqued your interest. You wanted to hope that perhaps he would like you to enjoy the festival with him before that. But something tugged at your heart, telling you to be careful. And this was the first time you ever felt the need to be cautious around him.

“Sadly, no.” Yet you remain as calm as possible. “I want to attend it, but duty’s calling in another post.” Now you pondered about it, every other squadron would be there, including the general himself. Yet somehow not you. “I had to check on the newly arrived airships, sucks how it’s on the same day as the speech.”

You were rambling on and on about it, ignoring the sigh of relief that slipped from Jean’s lips when he knew you were not going to be there. Deep inside your heart, you wanted to ask why did he throw the question at you, having a feeling there would be something going on.

But what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you, so you decided to keep your mouth shut.

Jean could only look at you with a frown plastered on his face. He knew that something was going to happen tomorrow. If what Eren wrote in all his letters were right, then he didn't want you to be there. He couldn't bear to see your corpse.

No, it was not that. Watching you die was something that would happen either tomorrow or some days later. But what he couldn't bear to see was your face when you knew he was one of the people behind the attack tomorrow, he was one of those people who fought with Eren Yeager, the enemy of your nation.

He could picture your face with disappointment lingering on your face. Because he knew with the plan that they had tomorrow, he wouldn't just kill the military but also the innocent citizens who had been oppressed all their lives in Liberio.

Right now he wanted to tell you that, he wanted to open up to you about the plan. But you were a commander, and if you shared the information to any of the higher-ups, that meant the attack tomorrow had a high possibility to fail.

Yes, he couldn't jeopardise that. As much as he wanted to keep you safe by telling you the reason why you shouldn't be there, he decided to keep his mouth shut. After all, what he didn't say wouldn't hurt you, right?

"Hey, love?" Jean called out, using the nickname that no matter how many times he had called you by it, always send a shiver down your spine. You let out a small hum to tell that you were listening, fingers trailing softly on his arms. "I need to go now."

"What?" You immediately looked at him, propping your body with an elbow as you searched for his smirk that was usually there when he teased you. But you found none. "Why? I mean, you always stay until around four, what change?"

He sat up in bed, both eyes casting down his lap as he tried to avert your gaze. Your lips jutted a little, trying to understand why. But then again, maybe his lips were sealed. Perhaps he had to attend a late-night meeting, or his leader started to get suspicious over the two of you.

"My comrades needed me." But that subtle answer was the only thing that he gave before he planted a kiss on your forehead. "Just sleep, I still have the key that you gave me. I will give it back to you next time." You frowned at that as he didn't give you any other explanation.

You sat there in your bed, eyes never leaving the tall figure as he snatched his clothes from the ground, wearing them one by one as he turned his back on you. 

Never once you felt like this, scared, over the unknown of tomorrow. You had tried to embrace the fact that you would never know what happened next. But with him, as you put a piece of your heart inside his soul, you started to get worried more often. And somewhere along the way, a little seed of fear started to plant deep inside your heart.

"Jean," You called out as he dusted his clothes, not wanting to see any wrinkles on them. "Why do I feel like I am not going to see you again?"

He stopped. His fingers that were currently buttoning up his suit halted as he listened to your question. You waited for him to say something and moved your body so you sat at the edge of the bed instead, wondering if he knew that something big would happen or not.

"Hey, it's not, okay?" Jean cleared his throat and turned to you. A gentle look was there as he walked toward you and kneeled to level his gaze with yours. "We will meet again, we have to meet again." You didn't know if it was him trying to reassure you, or he was reassuring himself. "I promise." But either of them, you would take it.

So you closed your eyes, erasing all of those fears and anxiety that crept in your mind. His lips captured yours, not in a passionate and rough movement like it used to, but instead, it was soft and felt so delicate.

And you wished you could have stayed like this forever, in his arms as you knew that with him you felt safe. That everything just became complete ever since Jean Kirstein came into your life as if he was some kind of guardian angel despite the nickname that was given to his race.

Yes, you could have stayed like this forever indeed. Safe, and perhaps loved.

But then you saw it as you were called back to Liberio sooner than you expected to. You saw it, all the collapsed buildings and how the rubbles trampled the innocent citizen. Everything was red, the scent of rust metal suffocated you as it was the only thing that you could smell.

No one told you about what happened here. The general was dead, all the higher-ups from Marley Military were wiped clean. There were so many countries joining this grand speech, and as you strolled around to see if there were any survivors, your mind started to speculate about who would have done something like this.

Then you heard a cough, someone, someone was alive. You point your flashlight to the source, finding an Eldian Unit leaning his body to the big rubble. He was gravely wounded with a huge gash trailing from his shoulder and down to his abdomen, and somehow you wished it killed him, so he didn’t have to suffer.

Having been through so much war, you already get used to seeing such cruelty. Wounded by a bullet and died in the spot, getting bombed as the body scattered around the ground, you had seen so much that nothing impacted you anymore.

But this wound — you snapped back to real life, not letting any horrendous thought filling your mind. You immediately checked for his pulse, it was weak but it was still there. 

“You need to keep your eyes open, soldier.” As a figure with authority, you couldn’t waver. “I am going to get you to the paramedic. Just stay still as I lift you up, and keep your eyes open.” You didn’t wait for him to answer you as you gently slipped your arms to pick him up.

“They were flying, commander.” He whispered, one hand gripping tight on your arm as if to stop you. “They looked so free up there, some with blades, and some with guns in their hands.” But you ignored it and stood up, securing his body in your arms as you started to run.

“Keep your eyes open and save your energy. Just live for the next few seconds.” You commanded, and he was just staring at the sky, somehow accepting his death already. “We are close, and you can be—”

“Commander,” He whispered out. “Have I become a good warrior? Have I redeemed my filthy blood to Marley? If I go now can I be free?” The questions rang in your ear, and you ran even faster since you knew he could be saved.

But what if he didn’t want to be saved from the start?

“Yes.” You answered without looking down at him. “You have become a good soldier in the army, you proved yourself that you have been so strong.” There was a little smile on his face as you said that, and you decided to slow down your pace. “And you will be free, you can do anything you want if you decide to go.” Because deep down, you knew he wanted it.

Your legs went limp as you realised he was gone. With a smile on his face and eyes opened as it looked up. Either to you or toward the sky, you didn’t know that. But you fell forward after that, with his body still secured in your arms. You didn’t cry, you lost so much and you thought tears were already dried.

You scrutinized him one more time, a solemn smile tugged at your lips as you slowly closed his eyes, wanting him to rest in peace. Your finger slowly traced the gash on his body, making your lips shaped into a thin line as your thought from last night was answered.

No matter how calm his eyes were before you closed it, it bore into your soul as it mocks you with a reminder.

“Are you going to attend Tybur's speech tomorrow?”

That the one who made you feel safe last night — was the same who would be responsible for the nightmare which happened today.

↪Back to Wall Maria

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[aecs-multy]

Even in the darkest hour, we will find the light

Summary:

When Arthur discovers that Merlin has magic, things go downhill fast, but sometimes you need to reach rock bottom to get up stronger than ever.

---

He was tired. As the last bandit fell to the floor barely five meters in front of him, all the energy left his body. Around him were the unconscious bodies of men and women alike, the bodies of those who had tried to hurt them. They had been too many. He knew there had been no way that they had gotten out of the ambush alive if he hadn’t used his magic.

He also knew that there was no way that Arthur hadn’t seen him using it. Slowly, he lowered his hand, that had been pointing at the last bandit he had knocked out. He was so, so tired. He didn’t want to turn around, he didn’t want to see the hurt, the anger, the hatred, the betrayal that would be in those blue eyes he had learned to love.

Merlin’s vision got blurry, but it wasn’t until a lonely tear run down his cheek that he understood why. He was crying. Right in that moment, he had lost everything. He lost his life, his home, his family, his friends, his soulmate. All his life hiding, doing things from the shadows, completely alone, without people that understood him because he couldn’t let them in, for it to end like this.

I should have let that last one kill me, Merlin thought, Arthur wouldn’t have any problem defeating him and I wouldn’t have to turn around and see him now. He almost wanted to laugh. To think that he didn’t want to even look at Arthur right now because it would hurt too much to see what his king was thinking.

The point of a sword was placed between his shoulder plates and he stuttered a breath. This was it. He was going to die by the sword of the man he had sworn to protect, by the sword of the man he loved. His destiny was going to be his end. At least I won’t have to face him, he thought with a trembling smile while another tear fell.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, and his tone was cold, sharper than the sword that threatened to pierce him. “Turn around.”

He gulped and closed his eyes. It took him what seemed like hours to do as he was told, his body trembling with the chill that had suddenly filled his bones, feeling so cold that not even his hysteric beating heart could warm him.

“Open your eyes.”

He shook his head and pressed his eyelids harder together, willing himself to not break down. When he felt the sword reach his throat, he let a pained gasp fall from his lips.

“I said open your eyes.” Each word was said slowly and punctuated with added pressure of the metal against his skin, until a small drop of blood run down his neck.

He did as he was told, but the moment his eyes landed on Arthur’s, he wish he hadn’t, that he had kept them closed and died without the image that would now haunt him during what little he had left of live and during his death.

Those beautiful eyes were shining with unshed tears, full of those emotions he had put there, and he would give his life to make them go away. Arthur was gripping the hilt of the sword with both hands, in a position he had seen him do many times during his training and their adventures. The difference was that his hands were trembling now. It was barely noticeable, but Merlin knew him better than anyone.

“You have magic,” he said.

It wasn’t a question, but Merlin answered with a weak voice anyways, “Yes.”

“All… all this time, you... you’ve been lying to me,” Arthur said, his voice quivering. “I trusted you, I… I let you in, you were my servant, but also my advisor and friend, I… how could you do this to me?”

“I-” he tried to reply, but nothing came out of his mouth. He wanted to say a lot of things, but Arthur wouldn’t believe him, not now, not ever again, and proof of that was how he pressed the sword harder against him, making him hiss in pain.

He kept staring at Arthur’s eyes for seconds, minutes, hours, days? He didn’t know, but none of them moved or looked away. Finally, Arthur put Excalibur down. “I banish you from Camelot, you have until midnight to cross the frontier, if you ever return, you’ll burn in the pyre.”

His whole expression changed as he covered his emotions with a mask, not letting them show, and that was worse than seeing how much pain he had caused him.

“No,” Merlin said, his voice surprisingly strong, but being banished and separated from Arthur would be a fate worse than death. Determination filled him and he swore to himself that he wouldn’t let Arthur send him away. If he had to die, then so be it, but he wouldn’t that which made him whole.

A flicker of anger went through Arthur’s eyes before he could control himself. “What did you say?” Arthur asked between gritted teeth.

“I won’t go away.”

Arthur took a step closer, making them stand with their noses almost touching, but they had never been further apart, and said, “Then you’ll die, is that what you want?”

“No, but the only thing that will separate me from you will be my death,” he said. Merlin turned around and put his hands behind his back, wrists together, presenting them to Arthur to tie them. “I will be by your side until my last breath, until my heart stops beating, so don’t tell me to go, because your face will be the last thing my eyes will see when my world fades to darkness and your name will be the last word my lips will utter.”

“Then you leave me no choice.”

He felt something hit the back of his head, and then he fell, unconscious.

oOoOo

They were all seated in their respective places in the round table, but Gwaine couldn’t help but feel itchy, ready to fight at any moment. Something wasn’t right, he knew it because no one else was in the room but them, and neither were guards outside of the door like there would be any other day. What made him feel worse, though, was the lack of Merlin.

Their friend was always there, even if he wasn’t a knight, and not because he was Arthur's servant. He was always there because he was their friend and even if Arthur would never admit it, they often came to him for advice.

That’s why he knew something was wrong, because Arthur wouldn’t have called them all without Merlin being there, not unless something had happened to their friend. As he looked around, he saw the confused and worried expression of the rest of the knights, mirroring his own.

As soon as Arthur sat, he spoke, “Merlin is a sorcerer.”

With those four words, all the blood left Gwaine’s face. He knew what those words meant, but he refused to believe them. Merlin wasn’t a sorcerer, he was his best friend, he would know. No, Merlin wasn’t a sorcerer.

The silence in the room was deafening, everyone looking around, as if expecting someone to burst out laughing and tell them it was a lie.

“He isn’t a sorcerer, Arthur, how could he? He is Merlin,” Lancelot said, some kind of urgency laced to his words. Gwaine saw that, of all of them, he seemed the most affected by the statement. Lancelot looked as if he had seen a ghost, panic clear in his face, his hands trembling where they rested in fists over the table.

“I saw him myself doing magic, I saw how he defeated 20 bandits with just movements of his hands right in front of me. Merlin is a sorcerer,” Arthur said without looking at them, staring at the door.

“He isn’t,” Gwaine said. “He can’t be.”

“He is.”

“No, he isn’t, because that would mean that he will have to die, and that won’t happen,” Gwaine said fiercely. He wouldn’t let his best friend die.

“He betrayed Camelot, he used magic. I offered him banishment, but he said that he would rather die than go away,” Arthur said, his tone was low, but full of ice and betrayal and it echoed in the room. “He will burn in the pyre first thing in the morning.”

Gwaine didn’t waste a second, he got up and drew his sword. He said, “You won’t touch a hair of his head.”

Arthur didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. “He is accused of treason to his king, of using magic and letting it corrupt him. Both of those crimes are sentenced with death.”

“Treason of what?!” Gwaine shouted angrily, hitting the table with his free hand, leaning on it. “He is the most loyal person you will ever meet, more loyal than all of us together, and not because of a lack of loyalty in our part. He has gone to countless dangerous places for you, done a hundred million things to keep you safe and to protect you. He is the bravest man Camelot has ever seen, and all you give him in exchange is burn him to death?!” He was breathing shakily and his jaw hurt. “If you want to hurt him, you will have to kill me first.”

“Then I accuse you of treason and will die alongside Merlin,” Arthur said, his gaze now in Gwaine.

“Then I shall burn with them.” It was Lancelot who spoke now, and Gwaine noticed that he had stood up and drawn his sword at some point too. “I knew of Merlin’s magic since the first day I came to Camelot.”

Arthur looked at him now, his eyes full of hatred and his words dripping poison when he said, “You knew?”

“I did,” Lancelot said. “You want to know what he used the magic for when I discovered it? To save Camelot from the Griffin. To save you. All those times branches feel on our enemies’ heads, all those times we lost the enemy, all those times he guided us in the right direction, he use magic to help us.”

“Am I surrounded by traitors now?!” Arthur shouted standing up, looking at the rest of the knights, that cowered under the anger that radiated from their king.

“No, you’re surrounded by friends.” Surprisingly, it was Leon who talked. “I didn’t know about Merlin’s magic, but I do know him. I don’t believe that he is evil, nor a monster, nor corrupted. He was your friend, and so are we, and that’s the reason why we stand by your side, but sometimes we must stand against you to make you see reason. That’s why you trust us, because we aren’t afraid of telling you what we think. If you wanted someone to lick your boots and kiss the floor you step on then you would have sacked Merlin a long time ago in the first place.”

Arthur looked more and more enraged by the moment. “Merlin is a sorcerer,” he said through gritted teeth, as if that was the answer to all their problems.

“So what?!” Gwaine asked. “He is our friend and he would never hurt us or Camelot. He is so devoted to you that he would go to the mouth of hell just to make you smile!”

“He lied to all of us!”

“And can’t you imagine why he did that?! In Camelot, if you use or have magic, you die. What did you want him to do, come and tell you?!” Gwaine argued.

Arthur shouted, “Yes!”

“He couldn’t because if he did, you would have killed him, like you are going to do now!”

“I don’t want to kill him!” Arthur said, his voice breaking at the end, and now Gwaine saw what was happening. Arthur had been told all his life that magic corrupted whoever used it, but now that Merlin was the one he had to sentence to death, he was conflicted in his beliefs.

“Then don’t,” Gwaine said softer. “Magic is just a tool, not better or worse than a sword. It’s the one that yields it who choses how to use it. Do you believe that Merlin, and forget for a second that he has magic, would ever betray Camelot, betray you?”

The silence that followed then was answer enough. “We all know Merlin, he wouldn’t hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it.” Percival said.

“And what should I do?”

“Go to the dungeons, tell Merlin that he’s free and he won’t die, tell him that you are going to lift the ban against magic, tell him he’s no longer your servant, and when he has a fit about it, and we all know he will have one because only someone like him would want to be your servant, then you tell him that he’s now the court sorcerer.” Gwaine said.

“I can’t just lift the ban against magic, a lot of people wouldn’t be happy with that and they will demand a reason.”

Gwaine was happy to hear that the only thing he complained about was what people would think. Arthur appreciated Merlin more than he would let himself believe. “Then tell them it’s for Merlin, half of Camelot likes him, the other half loves him and would kill you if you put him anywhere near a pyre.” Gwaine shrugged.

“This isn’t a time for jokes.” Arthur sat down with a heavy sigh.

“It doesn’t need to be made in the span of a day, it will take months, maybe years, but erasing the ban against magic will be what we will aim for, starting with the erasure of the death penalty,” Leon said, always the pacifist and the voice of reason.

“Merlin betrayed me,” Arthur said, probably more to himself than to the knights, and before Gwaine could argue, Lancelot talked.

“He didn’t. Is it betrayal to do something with the objective of protecting their king and kingdom? Is it betrayal to hide something to avoid their death? Is it betrayal to risk their life for the people they love?” Lancelot said.

“We can’t kill Merlin,” Elyan, that had been silent until then, said. “It would be wrong.”

Arthur stared at his hands, thinking, until he said, “I want to be left alone, no one is to disturb me unless it’s an emergency.”

Everyone looked at the rest of the knights, unsure of what to do, not wanting to disobey their king but worried about their friend in the dungeons too. Gwaine wouldn’t move unless Arthur promised that he wouldn’t kill Merlin.

“I’ll go and free Merlin myself, now go,” Arthur said, addressing what everyone was thinking, and one by one, the knights left. All but Gwaine.

“I know your father always told you that magic was evil, but, Arthur, Merlin needs you right now. I can’t begin to imagine how lonely his life might have been, hiding something so important about himself. If you ever tell anyone, I will deny it, but I’m begging you, don’t be a prat, because if anyone can break him, it’s you.”

He didn’t let Arthur answer, he was out of the door before his words could take effect, praying that his friends would find a solution to their differences.

oOoOo

With each step he took down the stairs he willed his beating heart to calm down. He had went to countless battles, fought against thousands of enemies, lead armies to victory, killed mythical beasts, but nothing had terrified him as much as this.

“I want to talk to the prisoner alone,” Arthur said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. The guards nodded and walked away.

He hesitated one, two, three times before he got the courage to walk in front of the cell where Merlin was. The sorcerer was sitting on the corner, his legs pulled to his chest, his arms around them and his chin resting on his knees, his gaze unfocused. His eyes were red from crying, his face was so pale that Arthur thought he was going to faint at any giving moment.

He had never seen Merlin like this, as if the life had been drawn out of him and nothing was left, just the shell of the bubbly man he had learn to love. Arthur still had problems believing it, that Merlin could use magic, that he could conjure such power.

The knights were right, Merlin didn’t deserve to die, he deserved every good thing the world had. He was the kindest, selfless, most loyal, bravest and strongest person in the whole kingdom. And yet, he had imprisoned him because Merlin had saved his life.

All the things Uther had said about magic, how it corrupted people, how it made them evil and dangerous, how they had to get rid of them, it had to be wrong. Everything he thought he knew about magic from his father was wrong. He didn’t know what to believe anymore, he was starting to doubt all the things he had learnt in his life.

His world was turning upside down, and the only person he wanted to be with was in a cell, where he had put him.

“Merlin,” he said, and talking now seemed like the hardest task of all, but he managed to choke his best friend’s name out of his lips.

The sorcerer looked up, a sad smile on his lips. “Is it time?”

Arthur felt sick. How could Merlin look at him, smiling, and accept his death without a fight? After what he saw at the forest, he knew that Merlin could have escaped, could have threatened him, or done something. But no, Merlin was there, sitting, looking miserable and staring at Arthur with trust and love in his eyes.

“It is,” he said with a shaky voice. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he blinked them away. He wanted to know what to do, he wanted a solution, he wanted to go back in time and not know anything about Merlin’s magic because that way he wouldn’t have so many problems.

“It’s okay, I’ll look after you and Camelot even when I’m gone,” Merlin said, his smile so genuine that Arthur had to grab the bars from the cell to keep himself from falling down when his knees became weak.

“It’s- it’s not okay,” he said softly, voice choked with emotion. He didn’t like showing emotion, he didn’t like being vulnerable, but this was Merlin. Merlin, who had stood by his side even at the worst of times. Merlin, who had broken down his walls and disarmed him with smiles. Merlin, who had been loyal to him all this time. Merlin, who had seen him broken down and, instead of taking advantage of that, he had built him back together. Merlin, who treated him like a person, like a friend, and not like a king. Merlin, who had magic and had used it to save Arthur even when that meant he would be accused of sorcery and condemned to death.

Merlin, who he trusted with his life and who he loved more than he loved himself.

He could be vulnerable around Merlin, because even now, Merlin still believed in him, he could see it in his eyes.

“I- I don’t know what to do, Merlin,” he said, his eyes glued to Merlin’s, pleading him and asking for some kind of solution to this mess.

“Arthur,” Merlin said, standing up and almost falling when his legs gave out. He managed to recover and walked to stand before him. “You might be the king, but you don’t need to have all the answers.”

“That doesn’t help, so just tell me what to do,” Arthur pleaded.

“Well, it’s nice to see that you’re still a prat, barking orders. One might think that after all this years you would have learnt that I never do as asked,” Merlin said, and somehow, Arthur chuckled despite himself. He bowed his head and looked at his feet, a tear falling to the floor, between his feet.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Why? I like being here, at least I don’t have an annoying dollophead bossing me around,” Merlin joked, his tone light, but it did nothing to lighten Arthur’s heart.

“I’ve been horrible to you, haven’t I?” Arthur asked, although he didn’t need Merlin to answer, he already knew it would be a ‘yes’. He had treated Merlin horrible at times just because he felt pressured to keep his servant at arm’s length, because he was the king, and a king couldn’t be friends with his servant. Never mind that to him Merlin was much more than a friend.

“No,” Merlin said, and Arthur felt hands over his a second later. When he looked up, Merlin was watching him with so much emotion that Arthur felt dizzy. “You might be a royal prat, and bossy, but you’re also my friend. I know you, Arthur, and I know you care about me, you don’t need to say it for me to know it. You would have sacked me a long time ago if it weren’t because of our friendship, because let’s be honest, I’m the worst servant ever.”

“You are,” Arthur chuckled wetly, a few more tears running down his cheeks.

“You may not have the answer to this, but I’m certain that whatever you do will be the right thing. I believe in you.”

“How can you say that when you’re locked in a cell because of me?” Arthur asked. He wondered how it was possible that Merlin was the one consoling him and not the other way.

“Because I love you,” Merlin said, his cheeks slowly reddening with a blush. “I have loved you for a long time now and I never told you because I was afraid of losing you. You’re destined to great things, too, and I trust that you’ll unite Albion and lead everyone to a time of prosperity and peace like never before.”

He knew he should say something back, like how he felt the same and that they could rule together one day, that if he was destined to great things would only be because he had Merlin by his side, but he couldn’t make a sound. When Merlin gave him another sad smile and took a step back, Arthur didn’t think, he just reacted.

He grabbed Merlin’s face and joined their lips, doing what he had wanted to do for a really long time. At first, he could feel the surprise in the sorcerer in the way he tensed, but when Arthur didn’t let go or pushed him away, he relaxed, and finally, the kiss was reciprocated. It was uncomfortable with the metal bars pressing in his cheeks, but all that mattered was how much he loved Merlin and the soft lips that moved at the same time that his.

Shivers ran down his spine and a tingling sensation spread through his body with each caress of their lips. His heart wanted nothing more than escaping the confines of his body and go to Merlin, because the sorcerer was its real owner. The feeling of the metal bars disappeared suddenly and hands moved to cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheekbones. Arthur’s arms circled around Merlin’s waist and pushed them flushed together until they were chest to chest, an urgency to touch him filling his bones. He could have lost Merlin because of his own stupidity, and he needed to know that Merlin was there, with him

“I’m sorry,” Arthur gasped when they broke the kiss to get some air, their foreheads pressed together. “I love you, too.”

“I got as much from the kiss,” Merlin said cheekily, his breath coming in puffs that tickled Arthur’s lips.

“Shut up,” Arthur laughed.

“We both know you don’t actually want me to shut up,” Merlin said, moving his head to look at him, an eyebrow raised in a way that made him look like Gaius.

“I don’t want you to change. I want you to always be you. Magic or not,” Arthur admitted, staring back at Merlin’s blue eyes and begging him to understand how much he meant those words. “You’ll have to teach me so that I can understand, but I can’t kill you, I could never do that to you.”

“I’ll tell you everything, I promise, even what I don’t want to say,” Merlin said seriously, but his eyes were full of happiness.

In that moment, Arthur noticed that with Merlin by his side, they could fix this, because they had always done things together. The reason why he couldn’t find a solution was because he needed his other half to guide him.

“Where are the bars of the cell?” Arthur asked when he looked around.

“I… made them disappear?” Merlin said, his eyes wide and innocent. It was such a Merlin thing to do that Arthur wondered how he could ever think that the sorcerer was evil. The knights were right and he would have never forgiven himself if he had sent Merlin to the pyre.

“Of course you did,” Arthur said, shaking his head in amusement. “Everything will be alright, won’t it?”

“It will, Arthur,” Merlin said, kissing him softly once again. “It will.”