eh-440

[state-of-disorder]

Tagged by: @cicada-candy

Last Song:

Currently watching: Law and Order SVU S16E20

Three Ships: UUUUHHHHHH Clannibal???? Rollisi??????Barson???!?!?! (WHY WAS THAT SO HARD)

Favourite colour: green or purple

Currently consuming: Jameson and alot of it because studying gets me panicking

First ship: Probably Clannibal

Last movie: Trouble in the heights (does Company count as a movie??)

Currently working on: Not myself or my study but a WIP of all the side profiles of my comfort characters

Tagging (only if you want too) @hauntedandmurdered @music-shall-caress-you

[zvdvdlvr]

i raise u hotch x f!r who was pronounced kia but she comes back?

— Home

— 🧠 synopsis. After being pronounced KIA, reader shows up after a year.

— 🧠 warnings. Foul language

part one

‘‘We regret to inform you-‘’ was the first and only thing Aaron heard before his vision blurred and his hands went slack.

If had happened, his biggest fear: you were never coming home. The only personal effects Aaron received was your wallet and dog tags with your wedding band on it. The flag that the marines handed him was heavy in his arms.

As they left, Aaron dropped his head in his hands and set the things he was handed down carefully on his desk. Before he did anything else, he shut his office blinds and sank into his chair. 

God, he thought, what do I tell Jack? 

— 🧠

It had been about a year since being kidnapped by the cartel your unit was attempting to bring down. One year of sensory deprivation. One year of curling into yourself at night dreaming of waking up with Jack laughing as you swung him around on your arm. One year of thinking about Aaron’s gravely voice whispering a sweet ‘good morning’ right before he kissed your temple. 

“You ready?” One of your longtime mentors/father figures Jethro asked. 

You nod and bit your lip. “Jethro what if he’s moved on from me? What if… he stopped loving me?” You asked, malnourished body shaking from your anxiety. 

The man only scoffed. “Not Aaron Hotchner, y/n. He wears your dog tags, you know. He hasn’t moved on from you, kid.” 

Finally you stepped out of Gibbs’ truck and nodded. You truly hoped Jethro was right. Your fresh uniform was big on your frame- you had lost a lot of weight and muscle after being fed only a meal every two days. 

Stepping into the elevator made you want to cry. The familiar beep of the machine soothed your soul more than you ever thought possible. 

Your stomach did flips as you stepped into the bullpen, hoping and praying that your reunion went well. 

— 🧠

In the year that you’d been gone, Hotch changed. 

He no longer smiled. Ever. The laugh he had with the team alnost every day after meeting you was gone. Aaron had no patience for anything either. 

Emily recalled one month anniversary of your deathdate. Hotch’s eyes were the reddest they had ever been and he genuinely looked like he had just been stabbed in the gut. That day, he had yelled twice at the two cops that had continued to bicker over evidence. And once at Rossi. 

The only reason Rossi didn’t say anything in response to Aaron’s anger was because he knew exactly where Aaron’s mind was: with you and your apparent grave on the other side of the world. 

But she watched your boots hit the ground, hair pulled back into the bun you had taught her all those years ago when you and Hotch first started dating. Emily watched you stand nervously in your spot, eyes scared. 

Emily never remembered seeing you scared. 

Your lip quivered as you made eye contact with her. 

No one else had seen you yet, so Emily sprinted over to you and let you sink into her embrace. 

“Aaron?” You asked, voice hoarse.

Emily nodded, vision blurred. “Go see him, y/n. He’s- none of us… we thought…” Her voice cracked and wavered. 

“I love you, Em,” you said, slipping out of her grasp again. But this time, Emily knew you were alive.

The walk up the stairs made your heart race. 

You brought your hand up to the door and knocked. Below, you could already hear Emily talking to the team. You heard your name, some gasps, and then silence.

“Come in,” Hotch called gruffly from the other side of the door.

You twisted the door handle and pushed. And then you stepped into the room. 

“Can I help you?” Your husband asked without looking up. His head was bent and he slouched, something he always nagged on you to make sure you never did. How far did he fall in one year?

“I wanted to see my husband,” you say, voice shaky. “I heard he was here.”

Aaron shot up from his chair, seat flying backwards. His eyes. Oh, his eyes.

“Y-y/n?” He asked. His hair was a mess; it looked like all he had done lately was worriedly run a hand through it. Your heart ached for the man in front of you.

You stepped forward. “Hi, angel,” you said, taking another step forward. 

“You died, y/n. I- we all… Jack and I-“ Aaron stuttered, tears falling from his cheeks as he watched the love of his life stand in uniform, an arms length away.

“I missed you. So much,” you say, crying now.

Aaron strode over to you and hugged you, letting his body fall slowly to the floor as you cried in his arms. “Oh my love,” Aaron cried, hiding his face into the crooke of your neck. 

You were home.

[mirkoluvs]

★ WAKE UP

zoro (opla) x fem reader

notes: first time writing for one piece and definitely not the last !!

“hey, zoro. it’s my turn to talk to you! i don’t really… know what to say”, you muttered, sitting down on the edge of his bed where he laid unconscious.

he had just gotten slashed along his chest in a dual with mihawk that he requested, a deep cut that made him lose lots of blood in a short amount of time. if it weren’t for the owner of the baratie, zeff, who knows where he would be now. even still, zeff said his survival wasn’t guaranteed even after all the fixing he did. according to him, the only thing that could keep him from dying was his crew keeping him grounded on the earth mentally, and that’s how you ended up where you were. each member of the crew took turns talking to him, and you decided to go last. you didn’t even know how to even approach him.

“i just… i understand that you wanna prove yourself, but did you have to go and get yourself hurt like this?”, you muttered. “i can’t even put into words how i felt when i saw you get cut like that, it felt like i did too in a way, yknow? not being able to do anything but watch, it hurt so bad. it made me feel so weak… but that makes me think about how you felt. well, no matter what, you’re the strongest swordsman to me even if you don’t think so. you’re so much more talented than you think and i wish you could see that”, you spoke, your voice cracking a bit. you’re hand crawled over his, giving it a small squeeze. “you have to wake up, zoro…”, you whispered. you felt a tear run down your face, the tear landing on his hand as you sniffled, wiping your face with the back of your other hand.

“quit crying, would you?”, a voice quietly muttered. your eyes widened as your head shot up. you made eye contact with zoro who was looking up at the ceiling. “zoro… ZORO! YOU’RE AWAKE!”, you exclaimed, rushing up to him and looking down at his face. “christ- so loud…”, he complained. your lips curled into a shaky smile, quickly pulling him into a tight hug. “OW- loosen up would you?!”, he groaned of pain, his eyes tightening. “i thought you were dead! don’t scare me like that!”, you said, a small sob coming out as you let him go. his eyes widened at your reaction. were you seriously that worried about him? “of course i’m alive, you really think that would kill me?”, he said. he sighed as his hand slowly cupped the side of your face, a shaky thumb wiping the tear running down your face. “don’t cry, you look stupid”, he muttered, putting his arm down. “jeez, thanks”, you smirked, sniffling a bit.

“i’m not leaving you, luffy, or anyone else on the crew any time soon. so don’t worry so much”, he told you firmly. your eyes widened at his words but quickly softened. “yeah… right”, you nodded. a small moment of silence filled the room before you bent down to his head level. pressing a small kiss to his cheek, you smiled. “i know you won’t. you’re the greatest swordsman after all”, you said quietly. before zoro could even react, your head was already out the door. “GUYS! ZORO’S AWAKE!”, you yelled. commotion arose quickly as luffy, usopp, and sanji ran into the room, crowding around him. his eyes were wide as he looked at you for a second, his cheeks a dusty shade of pink as you smiled, walking out the room.

damn, that woman.

© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!

[disasterofastory]

A shocking night (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

A shocking night // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 2/14 Warnings: shower smut, a bit dub-c, dead bodies

Summary: You meet Brahms, the living one, for the first time.

It's so quiet you can hear the rapid beating of your heart as it tries to break free from the hold of your ribcage. Your chest heaves as you pant and gulp for air. Your lungs burn. You can feel the wild rhythm of your pulse at the tip of your fingers. It makes your limbs numb and frozen. It makes you stop from running and escaping this hellhole.

The entrance door of the mansion seems far away. Too far away.

Your eyes are on the man. He is the only one still alive. The other three lie on the ground, bloody and motionless. They chose the wrong house to break into. Your attention falls on them for a second before snapping back at the one who stares at you from behind his mask. The white but dirty porcelain is familiar. Too familiar.

"Brahms?" Your voice is high and panicked. At first, you think he doesn't even understand your question. He tilts his head to the side before nodding. His posture is still tense and ready to jump at any second if you dare to move even an inch. His broad chest moves up and down as he pants. The white shirt he wears is dirty and bloody, too. Everything is.

How is it possible? You heard about the history of the family who hired you. Malcolm told you about their son who died in the fire that still marks the outside of the house. That's why you were so accepting to take care of a toy. You had no idea what secret they hid among the tall walls of the mansion.

"Y/N?" Your heart stops beating for a second when a high, childlike voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Your eyes focus back on the man in front of you. "Yes?" You ask back, gasping. "Are you going to leave?" He asks. It's a dangerous question. You hear the silent warning underneath his words. "No, Brahms," you force yourself to speak. "I won't leave you." He nods. Even through the mask, you can see the satisfaction that your reply brings to him. "Did they hurt you?"

Did they hurt you? You have to think about his question. You don't remember. Everything happened so fast. In one second, you were asleep, and the next, you woke up at the sharp sound of breaking glass. You went to see what it was, and before you knew it, chaos ensued. Brahms broke through a mirror and killed everyone. Well, expect you.

He steps closer, and your back presses against the wall as you try to keep your distance from him. His hand lands on your shoulder, sliding over the curve until he reaches your neck. His touch is surprisingly gentle.

Oh, now you remember. One of the men grabbed your neck when they noticed you. Your head is still dizzy because of it. And because of everything else. "I'm fine," you tell him. "Please, Brahms." Tears gather in your eyes as you stand still in his hold. "Please, don't hurt me." The man frowns behind the mask as he moves his gaze from your neck to your face. Your face is wet from crying. Your eyes shine with tears and panic. He shakes his head. "If you are good to me, I will be good to you." His words do nothing to calm you down, and his thin voice makes you want to cry harder. How is it even possible? The boy, the man in front of you, should be dead. Taking a deep breath, you reach for his hand still on your neck. His fingers curl around your fingers instantly. "We have to do something with… them," you tell him, glancing at the lifeless bodies behind Brahms.

You are not even sure what you should do. Call the police? You are sure Brahms wouldn't let you, and you would end up in prison without a question. Nobody would believe you. But maybe being behind bars would be better than staying here.

"I will take care of them," Brahms says. His voice is normal now, and you are surprised at how good it sounds. "What will you do with them?" You ask him. "I will take care of them," he repeats his previous words, and you get the hint. "Okay," you nod. "Take care of them, Brahms." At your instruction, the man's posture straightens. He almost seems happy that you told him what to do. "I will go and make some tea, okay?" You ask him. He is not happy about letting you go out of his sight, but the promise of warm tea after he is done makes him relent.

You know this is your chance to escape, but you can't make yourself do it. You are too afraid. And too tired. You sit at the kitchen island for what it feels like forever. You hear Brahms moving around in the other room, and you can see his dark form outside, but the greenery of the garden hides what he is doing. Well, you have a guess, anyway.

"Are you done?" You ask him when he appears under the door of the kitchen. He is even more dirty than he was. His boots are almost black because of the mud outside.

You have to clean up everything tomorrow. You stop at the thought. What? There is no way you will stay and play nanny after this madness.

When Brahms nods, you push the other mug his way, and he sits down in front of you. "How will you-?" Before you can finish your question, he pulls on the mask, and you get a glimpse of his thick beard and lips. "Oh." For long seconds, none of you say anything. Brahms just stares at you while sipping from his cup, and you look back at him with several unanswered questions. "Brahms," you break the silence after a while, clearing your throat. You are still afraid to say the wrong thing and anger him. As it seems, he has a sure place for dead bodies. He says nothing but watches you, waiting. "You were here the… whole time?" He nods. "And the… doll? It is just a toy, isn't it?" He nods again. The thought of him watching you without your knowledge sends unease down your spine. He was there the whole time, and you did know nothing about it. "Your parents," you continue. The words roll down your tongue slowly and carefully. "They wanted to protect you." You heard about him killing a little girl. Brahms nods, putting down the mug onto the wooden surface. It's empty. You have not enough courage to ask him why he did what he did. "You…" Your throat tightens. "You killed those men so easily." He reminded you of a feral beast, taking down those men easily and quickly. Even when they begged, Brahms didn't have mercy in his heart to throw them out and let them run away. "They hurt you," he says. His gaze falls on your neck, watching the dark bruise already forming on your soft skin. It makes him angry. "You came out to protect me?" He looks into your eyes again as he nods. "Will you hurt me?" He thinks for a long, horrible second and shakes his head. The dark curls on the top of his head frame the porcelain mask on his face. "The mask," you continue. "You can take it off." His muscles tense, and he shakes his head again. "Okay," you nod, looking at the clock on the wall. "It's late Brahms. You should take a shower and go to sleep." "No," he replies, and his voice is childlike and high again. You frown at his answer. "Do you want to go to sleep like this?" You ask him. He is dirty and bloody and sweaty. He shakes his head. "Then go and shower. You will sleep better." "No." "Brahms," you sigh. "It's late, and I'm tired. Please, just do as I say." After watching over the doll for weeks, you fall into your caretaker role automatically. "Will you be there?" "While you shower?" He nods. "If you want me there." You have to force your face not to grimace. "Will you bathe me?" 'No' is your first reaction, but you keep it yourself. He is so calm now. You don't want to do anything that can disturb it. "If you want to." He nods again, standing up. "Then go and get some clothes and meet me in your room, okay?" You can see he wants to argue for a second but decides against it at the end. He must be tired, too.

While you wait for Brahms in his room, your eyes are glued to the doll in the middle of the bed. He stares back at you. The dim lights reflect in his glass eyes. You are almost angry at it. There were moments during your time here when you foolishly thought taking care of a toy wasn't the biggest waste of your time.

A thought gets stuck in your head, and you frown. Your eyes are still on the doll when you hear the real Brahms's arrival. "Brahms," you say his name. He stops, watching your back until you turn to look at him. He holds his clean clothes against his chest. "Your parent. They won't come back." Your question sounds like a statement, but the man nods anyway.

You need several deep breaths to calm yourself. Upsetting Brahms won't lead you anywhere good.

"Come," you break the silence after a while. Your voice is surprisingly steady. "The sooner you get cleaned, the sooner we can go to sleep."

In the small space of the bathroom, Brahms seems even bigger. He towers over you easily, watching you put his clean clothes on the toilet through his mask. His heart is wild in his chest. He imagined you this close to him so many times before. Of course, he acted on his desires several times, but now you are awake. You know about him. And you will stay. "Take off your clothes, Brahms," you tell him, trying to look everywhere else but him as he slowly does as you say. "You don't like me?" His voice is a mix of his real and childlike pitch. You gulp. "Of course, I like you, Brahms." "Then why don't you look at me?" He is confused. You don't like how he looks like? Maybe you would prefer Malcolm instead of him? The thought angers him. That man is weak and incapable of protecting you. You force yourself to look at him. "I just thought you would feel uncomfortable," you lie. Oh. The man calms down within a second. How nice of you. "Now go," you tell him, pointing at the already running water. For a moment, you think he will obey again, but at the last second, he grabs your wrist, trying to pull you with himself. "Brahms!" You gasp. "What are you doing?" "You are dirty, too." "I will take a shower after you go to sleep." "No." "Brahms!" You don't stand a chance against his strength. The sleeve of your shirt is already wet. "Get in with me!" The anger is clear and powerful in his voice. Blood freezes in your veins at his sudden aggression. "Okay! Okay!" You gasp, afraid. With a quick step, you are under the water, too, letting your clothes get soaked and stick to your body.

Being so close to him, you don't have any other option but to stare at his bare upper body. His skin is several shades darker, with dried blood and dirt on it. His chest is covered in dark hair that barely hides his hard muscles. How can he be so fit while living inside the walls?

"No," he breaks the silence when you reach out for the sponge. "I don't want that." After his last outburst, you decide to let it go. Pouring some soap in your palm, you smear it all over his chest. Your lungs burn for air as you stare into nothing, trying not to think about what you are doing right now. You can feel his muscles quiver and move under your touch. "Am I a good boy?" Brahms asks, making you look up at him in surprise. "Yes," you reply. "You are a good boy." "I protected you." "You did, Brahms." "And good boys get rewards, right?" You gulp. "I guess you are right." "Then take off your clothes." Fuck. "I will take off my clothes if you wash your hair. I can't reach it." The man thinks about it for a second, then nods. By the time you reach for your shirt, he is already washing his hair.

Brahms's heart thuds in his chest as he watches you get rid of your clothes. Soon, you are bare and soft in front of him. Your hair is soaked, and small drops of water run over your skin, caressing the parts he wants to touch, too. His large palms almost burn with need, and his fingers twitch with need. "Am I still a good boy?" He asks, staring down at you. He doesn't even try to hide the fact that he is mesmerized by your breasts. Your nipples are hard peaks almost grazing his chest. "Yes." Your reply is barely louder than a whisper. "Then I can wash you too." It's more of a statement. "Brahms, I don't think it-" Your words end in a startled gasp as he tugs you closer without your permission. His hands are large on your back. His erection is pressed between your bodies. The friction makes him grunt. He caresses your skin, starting on your back and slowly but surely slipping to your front. His thumb flicks over your nipples, playing and teasing them. "Brahms!" You want to sound stern, but your voice trembles at the pleasurable feeling that goes straight between your legs. When he tugs on one of your nipples, your back arches on its own. He knows your body better than you think, and his little secret pulls a naughty smirk on his lips. "Y/N," he says your name, almost whining. "You said I am a good boy." "You are," you tell him. "But you shouldn't-" Your moan is loud and clear in the small room. His long fingers slip between your legs even when you try to close your thighs. "Let me get my reward," he says, on the edge of demanding. "I am a good boy, Y/N. I protected you from those men." "You did," you cry out, feeling him on your most intimate part. His fingertips graze over your slit, opening you up to caress you some more. He isn't sure what he is doing, but it doesn't stop your body from reacting. You feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. His breathing is heavy next to your ear, and his hips rock against your stomach. He grinds his cock to your skin for some friction and whines every now and again. "Teach me, Y/N," he says. "Tell me what to do to be your good boy." If he is a good boy, you won't leave him. You won't even try it. "M-my clit," you tell him, reaching down for his hand to lead him to the small buddle of nerves. "Rub it, Brahms. Here!" He does as you say, watching your face to see what feels good and what isn't. The man draws small circles on your clit while his fingers get soaked in your juices. He can feel the familiar pull on his balls as he continues to grind against your body. Your soft stomach feels like heaven on his aching cock. Your hands snap up to his shoulders, grabbing onto the man to keep your balance. Your legs shake, and your thighs open for his curious fingers. He feels proud when he notices it. "Call me a good boy," he pants demandingly. "Tell me I'm your good boy, and you won't leave me." His fingers on you move faster, rubbing and teasing. "You are my good boy, Brahms," you tell him, gasping and moaning. Hot coil burns in your stomach as you feel your orgasm approaching. "So good!"

You almost fall against the tiles when Brahms squats down in front of you. Your nails scratch over the wall to find your balance. For long seconds, you forget how to breathe as you stare down at the man's curly, wet locks in front of you. You can feel the cold of his mask on your thigh as he pushes it out of the way. "Brahms!" Hearing his name falling out of your lips in a shocked cry makes his cock jerk and leak even more pre-cum.

The scent of your arousal is thick and heavy in his nostrils. Saliva gathers in his mouth as he takes several deep breaths to burn your smell in his memory. When one of your hands finds his hair in a strong pull, he doesn't waste any more time. He leans closer and closes his lips around the small bud he teased a few minutes ago. The vibration of his moan strikes over your body. Your taste floods his mouth, and he can't help but crave more. He devours your pussy like his life depends on it. His tongue flicks over your clit, and his cheeks hollow when he starts to suck on it. "Fuck!" You scream, letting your head fall backward. "Brahms!" Your hips grind down on his face with fastened pace as you chase your release. His muffled whines and moans echo in the small bathroom, mixing with your cries until both of you reach your highs and fall over the edge. His cum lands on the ground until the still running water washes it down the drain while your pussy gets cleaned by his tongue. Your muscles twitch and jerk under every swipe on your sensitive center. "Good boy, Brahms," you gasp for air. "You are my good boy."

[doki-doki-imagines]

Power of a hug feat mk1 Johnny Cage, Bi-Han, Kenshi Takahashi author note:as my fave memer said "the wettest and most humid kiss is nothing in comparison to the power of an hug". There are other characters that I have in mind with this prompt so I hope the post will go well lol.

tw: Kenshi part is suggestive.

You are used to being alone, you have been for most of your years, and you are sure Johnny would never describe you as clingy. You give him his space, he gives you yours, nice and comfortable. That’s why when he told you about this expedition that was going to take him a long time and far away, you didn’t budge, just kissed him goodbye and told him to come back in one piece.

Okay, the departure wasn’t so blunt, and maybe there weren’t just kisses and maybe you were sobbing while telling him to be safe because you knew that Johnny wasn’t going out for a movie, but this is the gist of it.

And now you are sitting on Johnny’s armchair, wearing his favorite cover, the one dripping off his perfume, reading, trying to get your mind elsewhere while your heart silently shouts in pain, while your brain screams at it to shut up, because you are strong and even if you haven’t heard him for 2 months you shouldn’t miss him so much, because you are independent and yadda yadda; you miss him so much you’d curl up in a hole and get moldy there.

You sit there, ‘till you recognize a familiar sound, “is that Liu Kang voice?” you think, already standing up. There are other voices outside the house, but soon they all fade when you hear one in particular.

It’s Johnny’s one.

You’d like to stay in, wait for him inside nonchalantly walking towards him to greet your boyfriend as elegantly as you can muster.

Outside is snowing and you are wearing shorts (made of wool, but still shorts) and slippers but your mind simply doesn’t work, heart beating freely, pumping blood with new vigor.

“Johnny!” You open the door, freezing air hitting your body with full force, but you feel nothing.

Your legs run toward your boyfriend before your mind perceives your action. He turns around at your voice, and he is so beautiful your legs almost give up…almost.

“Oh-“ You jump in his arms, knocking him a few steps behind, not noticing all the gifts he had to throw on the ground to take you. You sigh in his arms, his strong arms now enveloping your shivering body “Kitty, are you shivering because you missed me?” He jokingly says,

“Yeah, it’s because I missed you so much.”  Your voice breaks, your arms around his neck, legs gripping his waist as tightly as you can.

His hands slid on your thighs, thumbs drawing hearts on your skin, no goose-bumps, he is so warm and you are so full of love that you can’t feel anything else anymore.

Your foreheads kiss, breaths mingling, smiles stuck on both of your faces, warm brown eyes locked into yours.

His friends are long gone, leaving the two lovebirds alone.

He had to leave you there, in a snowstorm in the hands of the enemies, alone. You always have a plan, they always work out that’s why he trusts you so much even if you are a total dumbass.

“Go Bi-Han, don’t worry for me.” Your voice was trembling, you knew that you couldn’t survive and you also knew that he needed to return home alive.

And he follows your order because you are always right and things always go your way. Even when you are against him. Even when you tease him making his ears flush red. You always come up victorius.

Bi-Han stops on his track, snow falling on his shoulders. He can’t breathe. He hates you.

He’d like to sit there and let snow bury him. He can’t, he is Lin Kuei grandmaster whose willpower never waver, and who is headstrong like nobody else. Bi-Han has seen dear ones die in front of his eyes, betray him, this time mustn’t be any different.

Bi-Han feels like crying. You aren’t a fighter, but he wanted to bring you with him because nobody could outsmart you, and your brain was needed for this mission.

What an idiot. He tightens his fists, eyes closed so tight that wrinkles appear at the corners, no punishment would be enough for his mistake, never enough whips, never enough slaps.

He stays there a few more minutes, he couldn’t go back home, not ‘till he won’t be sure tears wouldn’t spill from his eyes.

Then he hears a voice, more like a whine, but it’s something he has heard many times before. Bi-Han starts to run towards the voice, walking much harder with so much snow.

“Told you-“ You are there, sitting on the snow, trembling like a newborn kitty, eyes shining, and with that shit-eating grin of yours “my plans never fail!” He crouches down towards you, he must be going crazy, his index and middle fingers pinch your cheek.

“Ouch! Why did you do that?” You are there, real, talking to him like you didn’t say goodbye to him a few minutes prior. He sits next to you, onyx eyes wide.

“You are alive” He is able to say, voice hoarse as always, mask reducing the sound to a mere whisper.

“Yeah, I would have never let anyone take my life, they have to get in line you know? Since you were the first one to promise me you were going to-“

Bi-Han doesn’t let you finish the phrase, his arms hugging your torso so close and so strongly against his body that he knocks air out of your lungs.

“I was so worried.” His right hand grips the back of your head, holding it in the nook of his neck. His voice trembles and he feels you stilling in his arms. He can feel your warm breath on his neck, your chest rising up and down at each breath you take; you are alive.

He almost lost you.

You free your head from his grip, thin ice on your hair like a veil made by his unrestrained magic, your hands now slowly removing his mask, showing you his trembling lips, you look at his eyes, he knows they are watery, his vision is foggy. Then your delicate fingers grip the collar of his uniform, your lips pressing for the first time against his.

It is a short moment, Bi-Han closes his eyes, and when he opens them your lips aren’t there anymore, but he still feels something warm; your arms reciprocating the hug.

It is suffocating but at the same time makes him feel alive, a warmth that envelops him entirely, that makes his heart run like a wild horse, but that puts his mind at ease; he is safe, you are too in his arms.

He couldn’t ask for more.

“K-Kenshi-“ You gasp, your hips grinding onto his, his tattoed hands running from your chest to your tummy, never resting, never letting you go.

He missed you. Kenshi missed you terribly. It wasn’t just sex, as good as it is, he missed your voice, your hands in his ones, your gentle lips on his cheeks. He missed hearing you talking about your day, about that terrible co-worker. He missed hearing your laughter and your hands massaging his scalp when he felt particularly stressed.

A moan dies in his throat after a delicious roll of your hips. Yeah, he missed this too.

You are close he can feel it and he is not far behind, but there is still something he desperately needs to do.

He lifts up, sitting now, his arms around your waist, hands on your lower back, both guiding your movements and keeping you close to his chest.

“I missed you so much-“ A whimper leaves his mouth, he can feel your lips so close to his, your breath labored, your body so close creates a delicious friction that just makes his mind fog even more.

“Me too, me too-“ You hug him back, your arms tight against his back, nails scratching his back while he helps you both reach completion.

You keep each other close, breaths still heavy, bodies sweaty.

“I missed you so much.” You are the first one to break the silence, Kenshi notices a hint of sadness.

Hint that became something more when the hand caressing your cheek meets a tear. The pang he feels in his heart hurts so much, but he also knows it is deserved.

“Me too honey, me too.” His right hand massages the back of your head, while the other traces heart-shaped patterns on your back.

Kenshi doesn’t let go, now laying on your shared bed, you on top of him. He can’t see your face, but losing sight made him more sensible, noticing every gasp leaving your lips, every twitch of your muscles.

He restrains himself, he can’t cry, but every gasp that leaves your lips is like a stab in his chest, each tear pulling your body closer, your hearts beating in synchronized sorrow.

But Kenshi can’t tell you that next time it will be different. He can’t reassure you that he will be safe.

He keeps you close to his chest ‘till he feels your breath slowing down, now stable. Kenshi keeps caressing your back, feeling his muscles relax, exhaustion washing over him too.

Kenshi soon falls asleep, wishing to still have you in his arms when he’ll regain consciousness the next morning.

[hidtired]

Hangman [Part 2]

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: Y/N Dixon was to be punished for her husbands actions at the line up. Negan decided to do it in style. Daryl watches you hang before being dragged away. But you had still been alive by the time you were cut down. What will Daryl go through before reuniting with you?

2.8k words

Warnings (Mentions of suicide, gore, ANGST, violence, injury, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Daryl POV

He saw you getting dragged to stand on that wooden box. Noose swinging back and forth in the air. He had threatened and then pleaded when the rope went around your neck. ‘He had done this, the reason for you standing there.’ You were looking at him. A sweet smile on your face. How could you possibly not be furious with him. He was getting dizzy from moving so much and the amount of blood he lost already. He watched the tears slip down your face but then your face straightened and you glared at Negan. How could you look so brave into death?

Negan was still yapping but the ringing in his ears muted most of his words. He registered, “Any last words?” You didn’t even hesitate stating, “See you in hell.” The look in your eye must have been murderous under the bag that been dragged over your head. Negans chuckle in amusement sent his skin ablaze, “Hope I don’t keep you waiting-“ the silence that followed had Daryl’s mind racing to replace the noise, ‘How do I stop this?’ ‘I can’t lose her!’ The abrupt kick from the box under your feet felt like a stab in the heart. He felt like he was watching it in slow motion. Your slow decent to the ground. To hear the rope pull tot again the tree branch above you.

He watch in shock no noise coming out of him. The bounce of the rope tightening around you suspending you in the air. It was Carl he heard the loudest make a pained grunt at witnessing it. Then you were clawing at the rope that suffocated you. Feet dangling and kicking. You had made a surprised yelp at the first impact. It burned into his mind as soon as he heard it. He took a sharp intake of breath for the first time and he mumbled incoherent please through his cry’s.

When your head fell back you then went slack. Your stillness punched all the air out of his lungs. Everyone’s cry’s and faces pulled into disbelief at your now motionless body. Daryl’s eyes remain glued to you. It felt like he was pulled into a sinkhole and had an empty feeling flowing through him. Negan’s proud voice cutting through the noise of grief, “That was like a damn witch hunt! Shit, didn’t think she would be flopping around so much!” He turned to the people shaking on their knees. “Damn, seems to have learned an important lesson finally! We got there in the end though. THEY GET THE SPIRIT AWARD FOR SURE!” Negan turned to Rick, “I JUST GOT A FEELIN’!” Negan yelled prancing around… putting on a show. “YOU PROVIDE FOR ME!” Rick slowly nodded, “SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO!” He gulped a flash of light making him squint before speaking, "W-we provide-" Negan nodded with a pleased smile getting what he wanted. He pointed to Daryl, "Load him up."

Daryl had dug his hands in the dirt still staring at your body, looking dazed. He felt them pull him and he only struggled a little, tears streaming down his face, noise unable to release from his tight throat. He couldn't leave you. They throw him back in the truck they had dragged him out of in the beginning. He struggled to get back up so he curled into himself. The door slammed making him jump. His mind getting dragged to flashback of you. The moment you saw each other after the prison. When you first admitted to being in love with him. Remembering when you took his last name as yours.

Till death do us part.

Now that it had happened he couldn’t comprehend it. To live without you. For your existence to simply cease. His grief rolled into anger. At the world, at the saviors, but mostly himself. You had always disliked when he got worked up, ‘It will be the death of you!’ But in the end it was the death of you. You had yelled it at him during an argument. He would have said something back to that if you hadn’t started to get worked up tears shinning in your eyes.

‘Your love for me got you killed.’

He quietly sobbed at the thought. The van he was in started to move. He was being taken to who knows where. Whatever it was he would burn it to the ground with everyone who had hurt you in it, including himself.

He passed out somewhere along the way. Only waking at the feeling of stitch’s digging into his shoulder. He was later stripped of his clothes and put in a dark room. He would sit in the corner huddled together playing with the remaining ring on his finger. That’s when the torture here began.

He was feed poorly. Sleep deprived with a song that play on loop at full volume. He felt weak, sometimes thinking he would hear your voice off into the darkness. He would perk up and cry apologizes to you. Blaming himself, soon your presence turned into a haunting after a rough day. He tried to run but was tricked and beaten. He was on the cool floor hearing your voice ring in his ears, “Your fault. If I never took pity on you I’d still be here! YOU KILLED ME!” He would often pull on his hair to quiet you.

A day later, he was dragged to Alexandria. His face was swollen and he had a remaining shake in his hand. He was in a constant state of fighter flight. When he had got to the gates he couldn’t meet anybody’s eye. They had succeeded in breaking him. But not the way they intended. They broke him to comply. To be one of them. But he continued refusal. They broke him by making his life meaningless. With a sole purpose of destroying the ones who took his love from this world.

He was helping move boxes from Alexandria homes. Rick standing next to Negan near by. Rick had spoke to Carl from the porch, “You should go check on Lori. Make sure that she is okay.” He said it loud enough for Daryl to overhear. Daryl was perplexed at the sentence, was he trying to insinuate something? Lori had been dead for a while now, had he lost it again? Carl chimed in, “I’m sure she is doing fine.” Were they talking about you? There’s no way in hell you would be ‘fine’ after the shit that happened. It was hopeful thinking, he probably didn’t even say Lori and he imagined it.

Rick pleaded for Daryl being able to stay but when asked to make his case he knew he wouldn’t let him go. He also didn’t feel he deserved it. He had looked to his brother, his face screaming he cared. It only made him more guilty. You had cared for him, that’s why you were dead.

That was only solidified more back in his cell. Dwight was on him to join them, that all the torture would be over. Even if he did, the torture would still continue in your absence. Daryl said somethings that struck a nerve, “And be like you? Lettin Negan bang your wife, wow you sure saved her.” Dwight threw the dog food sandwich to the floor, “At least she is still alive.” He threw a polaroid to the floor, slamming and locking the door behind him.

Daryl’s hands were balled up. The burning ache in his chest at the mention of you. He slowly moved for the picture flipping it over. The crack of light coming from under the door revealing the picture. It was you hanging in that tree. He immediately looked away, clutching a hand to his chest. The hard tension of emotion bubbling out. He silently wept while the music changed. How stupid could he have been? To think maybe Rick was suggesting you were OK.

Your POV

Daryl was right about that, you were everything but ok. Alive yes, but struggling. When you had gotten to hilltop you were rushed to the doctor. He had done a endotracheal Intubation, shoving a tube down your throat to assist you with breathing. Maggie held your hand while Glenn pinned you down. You relaxed when it was in place. Breathing fully and properly, your eyes rolled in the back of your head going unconscious. All adrenaline leaving your body, now unable to process the pain and shut itself down.

You woke startled. The intrusion down your throat causing a panic. You pulled it out but struggled to cough to clear your airway. You rolled over the side of the bed letting gravity do it. It was hard to work any muscle in your throat. You felt something rapped around it. Almost like a pillow. It was a neck brace but the feeling reminded you of having the rope around you. The pillow case under you reminding you of the bag. Someone grabbed you and propped you up to sit. It was the doctor. You froze from your panic seeing panicked eyes all watching you. Maggie sat leaning into Glenn’s shoulder with a hand clasped around her mouth.

It was like a slap of reality. Eye contact with everyone in the room. They explained things to you while still a little frazzled. You were asleep for 14-16 hours. Your bottom lip trembled and you waved everyone closer to you. You enveloped people in hugs. You had never been so close to death. You gesture for something to write on. After getting it you wrote, “Is everything Ok?” Sasha who now sat in a chair next to the bed spoke first, “You should get better, only concern was how you would eat.” The doctor chimed in, “The damage to your throat is unknown. I can’t say for sure if you could eat solid foods or even talk ever again.” You rub the tension between your eyes grabbing the paper and writing again.

“Daryl?”

Glenn put a hand to your leg, “He’s alive. You should know the saviors took him before they left.” You ran a hand through your hair eyes closed tight. The burning in your eyes from the need to cry only added to the pressure in your growing migraine. You bit your lip and tried to swallow down the tightness growing in your throat from tears. However, the sensation of gulping made your whole body tense, slamming your fists down at the pain. A shaken inhale coming out of you. Everyone cringed around you. You collected yourself before writing again. “How the baby?” You had pointed the paper to Glenn and Maggie. She smiled, “We’re ok.” You breath in relieved about the first good news.

Then came the recovery. Not just physically but mentally. Any rope, tie, or, string set you off. You now no longer slept with a pillowcase. You had to eat everything in a paste. You’d crush it and dilute it with water. Felt like dog food. You were persistent when it came to asking about updates on Daryl. ‘When were people going after him?’ ‘When are we fighting?’

Everyday with the same answer. To think of what they were doing to him as each day passed. You started to debate going after him yourself. No opportunities presenting itself until Sasha and Rosita went off to kill Negan and hadn’t come back. With everyone distracted by them you follow after them. You left a note that read,

“I’m sorry for not telling you I ran off, but I need to go get Daryl. Anyone would do the same in my situation. So, no being mad when I come back! Preferably with two Dixons.”

You while still unable to talk and less than great ability to even drink water, were going to save your husband. You followed old tracks from the girls. Knife in hand and an empty gun holster. Also a black hoodie that was a few sizes too big, (you stole from Jesus.) You were by far behind in your tracking ability compared to your Husband. You remember all the times you would go with him to hunt. Being out there alone often lead to other activities you will admit. Probably what took you so long to learn. You found a factor type building the near the end of the trail. You would wait until the sun goes down and seeing what you were working with.

You had rounded the building a few times preparing for when it became sunset. You also took notice at a lot of cars that had left. You decided to act while they were gone. There was a lot with cars and to your surprise Daryl’s motorcycle. It seemed empty and unguarded. There was already holes in the fence tied with zip ties. You avoided the walkers attached to the fence. Breaking the zip ties with your knife and sliding through. You quickly and quietly made your way through a side door.

The hallway had minimum lighting. Any door you would pass you slowly open to look inside. Footsteps on the other side of the hall caused you to go up a flight of stairs. Quick to make your way down the upstairs hall when you heard women chatting. Ducking into a room closest to you. Pressing your ear to the door listening for the people to pass. Taking notice of the room there was a big bed, and a jacket all too familiar. You were in Negan’s room. Stepping back outside you paused and looked at the door.

Deciding to carve a little message in his door before continuing your search for Daryl.

____ | | | o | /|\ | | | / \ |_

"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _."

You made your way back downstairs. Passing door after door until you saw one cracked open. It was another bedroom. You slowly opened it spotting the key to Daryl’s bike. You pocketed it then saw another thing you recognized, Rick’s python. You moved it to your holster while moving back to the door. You ducked your head out of it looking both ways before continuing. Your heart raced every second you were there.

There was 3 doors left at the end of the hall. When opening the first one it opened to reveal a small space that was empty. It was dirty with full brick walls and concrete floor. You moved to the next one but it didn’t budge, it was locked? You moved to the last door and it popped open like the first. You back tracked to the other door and made a small knock against it. Leaning your ear to the door you heard a deep sigh. Someone was locked in one of these small rooms. Inhaling and hoping it was Daryl. You looked around again to make sure no one was coming.

Jamming your knife in the key hole and pulling out a Bobby pin from the back of your head. You were used to lock picking doors open since all the scavenging you’ve done. It was a habit to always have it on you. You fiddled with the lock looking around from time to time. When you finally got it to turn and unlock you put the pin back and held your knife out for whatever was behind the door. The door slowly opened light illuminating the dark room with a beaten and dirty Daryl. Your heart dropping. He was sat down staring at the floor squinting from the light. You slowly feel to your knees.

He looked up seeing you. A mix of a panicked and heart breaking look flashing across his battered features. You put a finger to your lips telling him to be quiet. You crawl over to him and grab his face. He leaned into you making your heart feel strained, ‘what have they done to him.’ Daryl whispering apologies, “It’s all my fault… god I love you.” His hands hovering over your face. You leaned over to lay your head in his hand. He seemed surprised at the contact. He leans forward looking at your face searching your eyes. His hand traveling down gently to your neck his eyes catching a sight glimpse of the bruise around it before you flinched at the contact to it. He breath comes out ragged,

“Y/N?”

You nuzzle your face in his and leaning down to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He was looking at you with amazement. You grabbed him by the arms and tried to get him to stand, trying to hint that you both needed to leave.

You were going to get him out of here.

Part 3

Next part is final! Feedback welcome and requests always open! What do you think the Hangman game spelt?

This feels like I wrote it poorly so apologies.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Kid Vaggie 4: Unsung Lullaby

Request for angst. Why angst? Why do people want to have their feelings hurt? Why? Also, this is LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG.

Charlie: (cradling Kid Vaggie in her arms as she carries the little angel to bed) Alright, sweetie. It's bedtime.

Kid Vaggie: (shakes her head violently and clings to Charlie's jacket lapels) No!

Charlie: Vaggie, it's bedtime. You need to get your sleep so you can grow up big and strong.

Kid Vaggie: (shakes slightly) No. Something bad is gonna happen.

Charlie: (pulls back the covers and sets Vaggie down gently) Sweetheart, nothing bad is going to happen to you here. This hotel is officially the safest place in Hell. Nothing, and I mean nnnnnothing- (boops Vaggie's nose)

Kid Vaggie: (giggles slightly and curls up under the blankets to get away from the onslaught)

Charlie: -Is going to get you.

Kid Vaggie: (snuggles in and yawns) Pwomise?

Charlie: (heart pulses painfully) I promise. (kisses Vaggie's forehead and heads to the door) Good night, Vaggie.

Kid Vaggie: Goodnight, Pwincess. (blushes and hides half of her face under the covers) . .. .. I wuv you...

Charlie: (clutches her chest and pinches her legs together as her ovaries throb like ticking time-bombs) I love you too, hun. (closes the door and walks down the hall while pulling at her hair) Note to self: As SOON as Vaggie is back to her normal self, get a spell from dad to make babies.

Kid Vaggie: (nestles in and falls asleep)

*-*-*zZzzzZz*-*-*zZzzzZz*-*-*

-Screams fill the air as the smell of burning tires, smoke, and blood course through the streets of Hell. Angelic Devils with grey and black wings soar through the skies and between buildings as they spray the blood of sinners across alleys and buildings.-

Kid Vaggie: (eyes snap open at the sound of a particularly blood curdling scream, and she looks around at the chaos)

Exorcist: (rips her spear out of Angel Dust's mouth and throat)

Kid Vaggie: Angle Bust!!!

Husker: (leaps forward with a tiger's roar and his claws extended)

Exorcist: (grabs Husker and uses her spear to skin him alive before completely ripping his spine out of his back)

Kid Vaggie: Husk!!! (looks around and sees the rest of the Hotel's occupants' corpses laying on the dead grass filled front lawn of the establishment)

Alastor: (sawed in half with his antlers ripped off)

Cherri: (exploded from the hips up)

Niffty: (pieces replaced with bug parts and scuttling across the ground from an angelic steel knife lodged in her spinal chord to keep her moving)

Lucifer: (tied by the ankles at the top of the hotel, his wings billowing limply in the breeze from being completely shattered like a flag)

Kid Vaggie: (crying and is about to puke when another scream fills the air. She looks and sees the Exorcist holding Charlie up by the throat) CHARWIE!!!!

Exorcist: (looks over to Vaggie and throws Charlie in the air)

Charlie: (gets skewered on the sharp nose of Dazzle's statue)

Exorcist: (to Kid Vaggie) ......Go. Run. (turns to look at the carnage) ........*sob*

Kid Vaggie: (suddenly sees the same spear the Exorcist has in her hands and scrambles to run away. Lungs are on fire as she sprints through the streets and down an alley) NO!!! NO!!!NONONO!!!

-Feathered Wing Flapping Fills the Alley-

Kid Vaggie: (turns around and sees the Exorcist, shakily bringing her own spear up as tears stream down her cheek)

Exorcist: (stands silently before taking off her mask, revealing Vaggie's older face) What did you do?

Kid Vaggie: (suddenly wearing Exorcist clothes) I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!! YOU DID THAT!!! (scene shifts, and suddenly she's the one staring down a cannibal child cowering against the wall)

Cannibal Child: (crying) I didn't do anyhting wrong.... Please, don't kill me...

Kid/Vaggie: (lowers spear) Go. Run.

Cannibal Child: (sprints away)

Kid Vaggie: (looks down at her fully grown self in horror and suddenly feels excruciating pain in her left eye socket) AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Exorcist/Vaggie: You were weak. (grabs Kid Vaggie's wings and rips them off)

Kid Vaggie: (screams and cries before panting in pain and staring at her older double. The older woman is split in half down the middle to share the visage of a woman with short, white hair and blood smear everywhere)

Lute/Vaggie: You don't deserve Heaven. / (crying) You don't deserve Happiness.

Kid Vaggie: (world slowly fading to black as the Exorcist turns and leaves)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Angel: (sees Charlie walk into the bar) Woooooof! Don't you look a special kinda way. I take it that Baby Fever ain't breakin' anytime soon?

Charlie: (pouts) Is it that obvious????

Angel: Please, Toots. (waves a hand in front of his nose) I can smell the ovulation process comin' off ya.

Lucifer: (sparkles in his eyes as he digs into his inner jacket pocket) Do you need the baby potion?!

Charlie: NOT YET!!! VAGGIE IS STILL A KID!!! (pauses) .....Wait, you just keep a bottle of that on hand?

Lucifer: .........Full transparency. I've been keeping it ever since you were with what's-his-nuts in case you needed it. What was his name? Fredrick's boy.

Charlie: (covers her mouth at the thought of carrying her ex-boyfriend's child) Dad, I never intended on having kids with Seviathan.

Lucifer: THANK THE STARS TOO!!!! Boy was a little fuckwit.

AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Charlie: (turns to the staircase and sprints up the stairs three-four at a time) VAGGIE???!?!?!

Hazbins: (all scramble out of their seats and sprint after Charlie)

Charlie: (bursts into her and Vaggie's room and sprints to the bed to hold the thrashing child tight) Vaggie, sweetie, what's wrong?!

Kid Vaggie: NO!!! NO!!! NO-NO-NO!!!! (stops thrashing as Charlie's scent fills her nose and stares up into worried eyes) Charwie?

Charlie: Yeah, sweetie, what happened? (pets Vaggie's hair, wincing at how badly the child is shaking)

Kid Vaggie: (breaks out into a new wave of tears and sobbing wails as she holds Charlie tight) Exowcists! *hic-hic* Evewyone gone! My fault!

Charlie: (holds Vaggie tighter) Shhhhhh! Shhh-shhhh-shhhh! It's okay, Vaggie. The Exorcists are gone. They're not here anymore. They can't hurt you or anyone else here. Nothing is your fault. (turns to the rest of the group motions for some help)

Hazbins: (all standing in the doorway slowly shuffle in to make a giant hug pile)

Angel: No one blames you for nothin', kid.

Husker: For a fierce little psycho, you've never hurt any of us. (massages the skin patches where Vaggie took out some clumps of fur) Not entirely.

Cherri: You're a great guardian angel for the Hotel, kiddo.

Niffty: You do such a good job helping me kill all the roaches in the basement!

Lucifer: (finishes off the hug pile by engulfing everyone in his wings) You're more angelic than any of those Exorcists, little dove. Nothing that happened is your fault.

Alastor: (watching silently from the doorway)

Charlie: (tears filling her eyes as she gently rocks Vaggie and sings a quiet lullaby)

Kid Vaggie: *sniff-sniff* (looks up at everyone around her and calms down, nestling into Charlie's chest and falling asleep) Wuv... you... guys.... ZzzzZzzZZz.....

Bonus:

Hazbins: (clutch their hearts simultaneously) Fuck....

Charlie: (still holding a sleeping Vaggie) Not so funny when it's you, is it?

Lucifer: Charlie, please tell me you want that potion as soon as she's back to normal. I need a little demon-angel grandbaby.

[procyonloser]

Adam stood over some nothing overlord, horns recently shined, robes freshly washed - fuck, he loved extermination day. He lifted a pointed finger at her face, ready to turn it to ash, along with the block behind her.

"Wait, wait, wait!" The overlord held up her hands, all three, she'd lost one already. "I...I have powers! Isn't there anyone you want to get even with? To get revenge on?"

Adam paused, thinking on it. "Yeah, so? What about it?"

"I can-" she sat up on her knees. "My power let's me swap two being's minds, just for a day. You could humiliate someone by switching an elite's mind with a rat. You could get revenge on a cheating-"

Adam lifted the overlord up by her hair, until her feet were dangling off the ground, meeting her eyes. A grin curled over his mask, and the overlord exhaled out a squeak.

"Let's go have a chat."

Adam's plan was simple. Switch places with Lilith, invite some guys over, and get Lucifer to find his wife with other men. He thought about switching with Lucifer, but the overlord said it wouldn't work with him, because he wasn't the first to want to take the King of Hell's body for a day. She wasn't sure it would work for Lilith either, but the closer they'd been the easier is worked, and Adam had literally been inside her at one point, so that seemed good enough.

Plus, Adam was dying to see Lucifer's broken expression when he found out his beloved wife was "cheating" on him. Sucks to suck.

"Okay," the overlord said shakily, holding a picture of Lilith from one of her concerts on it. She looked up at Adam, and bobbed her head. "I'm ready if you are uh...sir?"

Good girl, Adam thought to himself, this overlord could stay alive for at least this year.

"Do it. I'm ready to make that fucker cry."

The feeling was disorienting, going from one place to the next, as suddenly as blinking. It was like being plunged into the deep end of a pool, because your eyes struggle to understand what's around you at first, your nose burns because the new scents assault your senses in a wave. The physical sensation took awhile to understand as well, partly because it wasn't something Adam had ever personally experienced.

Adam's first thought was, holy shit, tits - Lilith's were on display, bare as they were in Eden, except he wasn't used to seeing them like this, as though the were his own. Adam's second thought was, wait, why is she naked? His third thought was, wait, what's that feeling?

"Lily," Lucifer breathed out above him, and Adam felt ants crawling down his spine, as the push and pull sensation became familiar. Lucifer's hands were at his - her waist, and...

Adam stared down to where pale thighs were spread, a bed of pale blond hair not doing much to hide the size of the cock impaling him. In and out, the bed was creaking, and Lucifer's horns and tail were out.

They were fucking?! What kind of married couple still fucked after the first year, let alone after the first thousand?!

Lucifer adjusted slightly, and it hit a new place in Adam, or Lilith, whichever, and Adam let out a moan not in his own voice. Lucifer looked encouraged, wrapping his arms around his waist, and pulling him in closer so he could fuck him all the harder.

Adam was losing his mind, fingers gripping into the blankets instinctively. He wanted Lucifer to stop and get the fuck off of him, but all that happened when he opened his mouth was moans and whimpers of pleasure. He was not feeling good from this, he wasn't, he couldn't! But, a long tongue wrapped around one of his nipples, before taking it between sharp teeth. Adam choked on a sob, looking down at Lucifer's head as he played with him.

"Luci...lucifer-" Adam got out, reaching a hand down to Lucifer's shoulder, but he didn't have the strength to push him away. His body was so over sensitized, if he moved, he thought he might cum.

Lucifer looked up at him and grinned sharply. "Oh, Lily, you want that, don't you? You know I'll do anything for you, my love."

Lucifer pulled out very slowly, cock covered in wet, and Adam felt his body leaking - he didn't think this was the first time they'd had sex today. Adam shook as he watched, close to an orgasm, closer to crying. Why was Lucifer's dick so big?

Lucifer smiled and said, "abracadabra!"

Another cock grew out from his body above the first one, just as hard and reddened at the head, pale blue purple veins running down the length of it.

"I'll always give you want you need, Lily." Lucifer said lowly, lining himself up. "You're my good girl, aren't you?"

After their bodies switched back, Adam found a phone number written on his hand in familiar handwriting. Tentatively, he called it.

"So," Lilith's voice came over the line. "Did you enjoy it?"

Adam stared at the wall.

"Yes."

[betterfettered]

Can I please have yandere Natasha who wants to pamper her fem daring? However, her fem darling refuses her affection. (As the one shot story if that's okay).

Hey bby! I tried to include a little tid bit about your OCs too :) (AFAB!reader x AFAB!yandere, cis wlw)(noncon)(drugging)(kidnapping)(gaslighting)(18+ readers only please, mdni)(Please let me know if I am missing a TW)[This is fetish content and rape and abuse are disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

Even after you know that Natasha is long gone, it takes you an hour or two before you try to escape. It feels like she has eyes everywhere, like she can detect your every breath , so you move painstakingly slowly to your feet. As soon as you are standing up completely, your head swims and your legs threaten to buckle out from beneath you; you have been sick for a long time, though, so that does not stop you from shuffling over to the locked window and gazing out at the jarring, sunlit thoroughfare beneath you. You know nothing about the tiny people you can see walking around on the ground several stories below you, an odd twist of fate considering that you have lived your entire life beneath their feet as a citizen of the Underworld, so you can only wonder if they would help you if they knew your predicament. You’d never beat against the glass hard enough for anyone to notice, but if they did, would they wave to you and promise to save you? Would they cry themselves seeing your tears?

            You don’t even make it to the door. Pain shoots out from most of your leg joints after only a few steps until you collapse to the ground, rolling over onto your side to curl into fetal position and sob. It isn’t that you don’t have the will, as you have never wanted more in your life than to leave this room – your body just won’t move, even to wipe away your tears, even though your heart is pounding at the thought of being found here.

            After a few hours, when you’re already in significant pain from staying in the same position for so long, the door swings open and hits the top of your head. You groan, curling into yourself a little, and hear Natasha gasp in horror.

            “Oh, heavens. My love, are you okay?” she says, the door locking behind her with a snap. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

            None too gently, Natasha slides her arms underneath you and stands, raising you from the ground, then carries you back to the bed. She is exceedingly careful in how she lays you down, making sure that all of your limbs are rested in an ergonomic fashion, even though you feel the way her fingers wander.

            “Please, follow my instructions so that we can make sure that you’re not injured.”

            One of her hands lies on your face and strokes your cheek, her expression trying to conceal her fear.

            “Tell me where you are right now.”

            “No.”

            “No, you don’t know where you are?”

            “No, I won’t do what you ask,” you say, shaking your head and feeling tears burning your eyes. “I want to go home.”

            She nods, the smile on her face a little stiff, then brushes your leaking eyes with her thumb.

            “I understand,” she says, turning from you to go and fetch the groceries. “I know just the thing to make you feel better. Then I’ll send you back home as you wish.”

            You’re so shocked for a second that you feel like your body keeps crying while you are completely still. Did she say you could go home? You can’t believe it – you’ve been trapped in this hotel room for so long that you’ve lost count of the days. Your heart soars at the possibility of talking to your sister again, even thought you hadn’t sought her out before and don’t even know if she’s still alive: your memory of her has been your only solace in this unending nightmare of being “helped” by Natasha, your imaginary manifestation of her being the your sole source of happiness.

            Natasha approaches again with syringe in hand, her smile more relaxed now.

            “One last bit of medicine to help with your pain before you go,” she says, and then places her hand on your shoulder, running it gently along the skin down to your inner elbow. Once there, she feels around for a second to find your vein.

            “One two three, be brave!” she says, and then spears the needle into your arm, thumb pressing its liquid into your vein. “Now, let me get your bag ready and write down some discharge instructions.”

            She grabs your chin and tugs you towards her, pressing her lips onto yours snaking her tongue into your mouth and grabbing your hair to pull you closer. You don’t want to waste energy on struggling, so you allow her to invade you like that, clenching your hand to have another sensation to focus on.

            “I would be so devastated if something happened to you once you leave, after all,” Natasha coos after pulling away. She flashes you another grin for a second, and then heads to the wardrobe within your room. Once there, she pulls out the bag you’d been carrying when she lured you in, drops it onto the floor, and begins folding up your street clothes to place inside of it.

            For a moment, you think the strange sensation bubbling within you is anxiety, and then you gag so hard aloud that it sounds like a cough. Your entire body feels bad, somehow, but you can’t tell what it is because you feel distant from it, panicking and gagging over and over.

            “Natasha,” you cry out, unable to lift yourself up from how fast the room is spinning you into dizziness. “Natasha!”

            She continues folding your clothing.

            “There’s something wrong! Help, please.”

            That makes her turn around, her expression curious.

            “Something wrong? Like what?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “That’s fine then, I’m sure you can take care of it at home with over the counter meds,” she says, turning back to the closet and grabbing your jacket to fold.

            “No, I can’t,” you gasp between your retching, starting to sob. “Something’s really wrong. Help me. Please, Nat, I’m begging. I’m…begging, I don’t want to die.”

            At this, she turns from her folding work.

            “Begging for what?” she asks, smarmy innocence in her tone. All the while she walks towards you.

            “For help.”

            “Oh, did you need me?”

            “Please!”

            “Say it.”

            “I need you. I need you to help me. I’m really sick.”

            “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along, darling,” she says, wrapping her arms around you. You can feel the warmth of her breath fanning along the apples of your cheeks. “You need to be here. Without me, you’d be suffering so much, right?”

            You nod.

            She relinquishes you, pulls your arms away from where you’d been instinctively protecting your breasts from her, and injects your inner elbow again with a different syringe from her pocket.

After only a few seconds, you feel so much better, your limbs feeling like jello and your mind a little fuzzy, but free of the continuous gagging.

She presses her lips to yours, exhaling in pleasure at their softness, at the way your plush body yields when she gropes and then presses into you. You lie still and let her do what she wants until you feel her hand groping your pussy, squeezing it and running her fingers along it in tandem. When you start to struggle against the stimulation, she bites your lip hard enough that the taste of iron seeps onto your taste buds.

            “Let’s start your check up again,” she pants, pulling away. “It’s always best to test someone’s well being with all of your senses. So right now, let me check you with my mouth.”

            Your heart sinks, but you don’t want her to inject you with whatever she had before. Letting your eyes press shut, hot tears spilling down to your temples, tears threaten your eyes when she kisses you again. You can’t help but cringe feeling her hands on your tits, massaging them aggressively; at the same time, the way your cheeks heat up feels completely unfamiliar. The sound of a breathy moan escaping from your mouth shocks you – you realize that Natasha pushing your shirt aside and using her tongue to stroke away the pain her fingers pinching your nipples left behind is making your clit a little stiff.

            “Stop,” you whine, trying to turn your chest away from her mouth, the arousal building up in the pit of your stomach getting harder to ignore.

            “Of course,” Natasha says, kissing either of your tits. “I know what you’re looking for.”

            Her hand sliding up from your cunt to the top of your underwear is so quick you don’t notice it happening; how exposed you are only becomes clear when she buries her face in your pussy, sucking and tonguing your clit while her fingers, roughly jammed into you, start to rub up hard against your G-spot.

            You open your mouth to ask her to stop, but only hear yourself panting, your hips bucking and squirming against her face. You dig your nails into the crook of your elbow as though that will take out whatever she drugged you with to make you feel like this.

            “I don’t want this,” you moan, unable to stop pressing your pussy against her mouth. “What did you do to me? I – agh!”

            Your entire body shudders endlessly, strange noises flooding out of your mouth at her unrelenting tongue sliding back and forth against you while you cum over and over. You feel embarrassed at how you’re writhing and yelping like an animal, but she won’t stop until you are trembling and trying to scoot your overstimulated core away from her. At that, she straddles you on the bed, both hands squeezing you all over.

            “It makes me so happy when you feel good,” she says. “I just want to ride your cute face. But you must be worn out, so maybe tomorrow.”

            Shivering from the disgusting mess between your legs and allowing yourself to cry quietly, you wonder if you should have just coped with the poison instead.

[bunniekittiee]

I Bet On Losing Dogs

Pairing: Dark! Bi-Han x Fem. Reader

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write about Dark Bi-Han ever since his season came out, so here’s a small Drabble about him! I want to expand more on him and his personality but I haven’t published anything in a while so I figured I would start small!

Content warning: Abuse(?) (Bi-Han uses his freezing powers and hurts reader), emotional, mentions of blood, Bi-Han being an even larger jerk

Summary: Bi-Han’s darkness has consumed his entire being. He realizes that he is hurting the one person who has always had his back. But he knows he cannot change.

White glowing eyes had her paralyzed on the spot. So menacing when it was tough moments like these. Especially when his demeanor radiated anger.

“How dare you? After all I have done for you.” He stated gruffly, his eyes narrowing and his limbs beginning to frost.

She shook in fear, stepping back away from her husband whose body was beginning to be consumed by frost. His black hair even had partial ice in it. “You are not the man who I fell in love with. I cannot bear to be here anymore, Bi-Han.”

Slamming her into the wall by her shoulders, he pinned her down. His hands dug into her soft flesh and iced over. She whimpered in pain. His hands were deathly cold. Much colder than they used to be once before. But now, ever since he turned, he was never warm. Always freezing.

“You will not be going anywhere. Do you understand me, you ungrateful girl.” He spat, his face nearing hers. “Otherwise you will meet the fate of many that have fell to my feet. Remember your place, little girl.”

The ice invaded her body and it ached. It hurt badly. It cut into her skin and made her bleed. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to curl into the wall, but she was already as close as possible. “Y-you’re hurting me.”

He removed his hands off of her, but not before he glared at her. “If you try to leave again, I will do much more than this. I will freeze entire realms to find you. And you will regret it greatly.” Stepping away from her, he stalked off to his office outside of the palace. She crumbled to the ground, still shaking in terror and sobbing. Her lungs denied her air. Bi-Han had outbursts more and more often, and he began to turn to violence more frequently. He scared her. Yet, she could not leave him. They were tied together forever. She loved him despite how much he hurt her.

Shakily getting up, she stumbled outside of their shared room to a spare room. When her and Bi-Han argued, she would often stay in this room to give him space. It was comforting to her as she was able to make it her own. Stuffed animals, many that were gifted to her from Bi-Han and his brothers, littered the bed. Blankets that Kuai Liang had purchased from the markets also were stacked on the bed. They provided her the comfort that she longed for. Bi-Han was a changed man who drove his brothers to madness. They were eaten alive by the darkness. They were the Grandmaster’s right-hand men. They used to be a family. But now, she was alone.

These gifts from his family were the only things that provided her comfort in these more recent times. And right now, she wanted to separate herself from Bi-Han as much as she could. Still crying, she slipped into the bed and pulled the covers up. Her shoulders were still bleeding from the ice, but she wanted to lay down. She would deal with it later. Her body was freezing cold as his ice chilled her blood. She dragged the blankets on top of her and surrounded herself in warmth. She continued to cry into the fur of the stuffed animal she held close to her. Everyday he was changing for the worst. It was beginning to become hard to love him when he treated her like a pawn.

Even breaths. He counted the seconds in between each one as he watched her body rise and fall from the shadows. She was curled in a small ball among the cozy items. Despite Bi-Han demolishing his familial relationship with his brothers, he let her keep the items in the spare room. As long as he didn’t have to see them in their room. He would never apologize for his actions. He never saw the point in doing so. He was doing something for the greater good and working on a task that required focus and determination. Slaughtering realms was never easy to begin with. So he could not, would not, let something minuscule like this affect him.

His heart had hardened over time. Bi-Han was not sure if he craved love or if he had the capability of loving. The darkness consumed his body and soul. How could he love another person?

But he felt guilty. He hurt the one person who has been there since the first day he started his mission. Kuai Liang and Tomas abandoned him and paid their prices. They were turned themselves. But she never abandoned him. Until now. But he caught her before she could.

Why did he hurt her?

Feet stuck to the ground, he wanted to move towards her. But he had done enough. He didn’t want to hurt her again. He got angry so easily. He knew she didn’t get her wounds treated, and it worried him that infection would seep into them and make her ill. He was cruel and selfish, but he felt sympathy for the woman he called his wife whose blood seeped onto the sheets.

Turning away, he left quietly. He closed the door gently to not interrupt her slumber. Padding along the palace hallway, he left to return back to his office. He had more work to complete.

“Bi-Han,” Kuai Liang said as he approached his brother. He and Tomas’ eyes were white as well, and l they looked similar to Bi-Han but in their respective colors. “Where have you been? We have been looking for you everywhere.”

“None of your concern.” He snapped at his brother. Tomas resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Bi-Han was most likely standing in his wife’s room watching her sleep. Like a lonely spirit. She was a weakness, but his brothers kept their mouths shut. They did not want to anger their brother. They were strong, but they were not as powerful as he was. It would be suicide to challenge the Grandmaster.

Walking with him, they filled him in with information Sektor had gathered from a mission Bi-Han sent him on. Bi-Han knew he would be working all night long conjuring up a plan to expand their icy tundra without Liu Kang or the others interfering. It was going to be a long night.

Her sleep was long. Bi-Han was not sure why, and he was almost positive she had fallen into a coma. She had slept through everything. When he had come back from his office once more, she was still curled up in the spare bedroom. He watched her again. This time he had no more interruptions. He could watch her without having to tend to his duties.

Feet moving without him registering, suddenly he was standing next to her form. He looked down on her. He could see the blood that crusted on her clothing.

Bi-Han felt the overwhelming surge of guilt. How could he hurt her? Like this? He saw the fear in her eyes. If she could, she would have morphed into the wall if it meant escaping his grasp.

‘I don’t know why I bite.’ He thought to himself as he continued to observe her. ‘Out of anger? Power? Why her?’

He felt the guilt chew away at him. He knew he could not have weaknesses. Not when he had plans to freeze entire realms. But yet here he was, standing over his wife as he felt badly for the grief he had caused her. He wanted to pick her up and clean her wounds. He wanted to hold her and show some sorts of affection.

But he could not. He did not have the capability of doing so. He was a warrior. He was made for war, not love. He was never made to be loving or caring. He was made to kill and maim those who got in his way. He was a bad man. He knew why he would bite. It was in his blood to do so.

Bi-Han reached his hand out, cold fingertips gently gliding over her soft cheek. She flinched away and tried to get away from the cold. She craved warmth. Something she hardly got in the Arctika. He could not provide that warmth to her. They hardly had shared their bed together. What could he possibly give her?

Frowning, he left the spare room and closed the door quietly. He was so deep in his thoughts that he did not realize Kuai Liang and Tomas had, again, been looking for him. “What is it now, you imbeciles? Do you need me to hand feed you as well?”

“Cyrax is having difficulty with the Cyber Lin Kuei. I believe he said something about missing components.” Kuai Liang reported.

The Grandmaster sighed angrily. “Of course. I will see to it.”

“Grandmaster, if I may ask.” Kuai Liang said right as Bi-Han stepped away to leave. Bi-Han turned around and stared at him. “What is on your mind? You seem occupied.”

“I believe I have made too many mistakes in my relationship.” He replied quietly. He never opened up about his problems to his brothers like this.

“How can you make mistakes, Grandmaster?” Tomas interjected. “You are the best. You make no mistakes at all. You do what you have to do.”

“I agree with Tomas. She is muddling your mind and making you believe that you have done something wrong.” Kuai said to piggyback off of Tomas.

Bi-Han stiffened up, but he felt that they were right. She wanted him to be weak. To be vulnerable. Why could he have a moment of weakness like this? He was the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei. He had many duties to attend to. He did not need relationship problems to weigh on it too.

But a small part of him felt that he knew it was wrong.

Ignoring this feeling, he nodded his head in acknowledgement at his brothers and walked off to Cyrax’s workshop. Bi-Han would never change. Even if he felt that it was wrong.

[goodolddumbbanana]

[Superhero au] Pre Dazzle - Ur... You make him cry, boss

Warning: Solar get ties up.

“You know, Eclipse, we should stop ending our confrontation like this. With me in the sky without a scratch and you writhing at my feet like a worm that needs to be torn apart.”

Yellow glinted from SUN’s blue glasses, almost in contrast to Solar’s ​​already ashen-colored hoodie. A wrong decision, a subjective judgment that had separated Solar from his group. Moon was still too busy scattering civilians, and Lunar was still struggling with SUN’s henchman. He was alone here, as usual, being the punching bag for this asshole.

A loud explosion made Solar frown. Half of SOlar’s ​​systems had shut down, unable to withstand the impact. His ​​internal systems were also plastered with yellow icons, as the incessant notifications of urgent need for repairs rang out deafeningly.

Fine dust formed a mist that curled in the air, as the smell of burning plastic and soot condensed together noxiously, with the crackling of the rubble surrounding Solar.

The malicious mockery could be tasted in SUN's eyes, as they drew closer, the pleasant ringing of their footsteps, the way they stared at Solar's body that was almost paralyzed, the result of that bastard wondering what would happen if they just plugged in the various wires in the circuit board behind his head, after they dunked him in the water.

“I mean, aren't you tired?”

The voice was too gentle, as if they were genuinely concerned for Solar's well-being. It made his finger marks dig deep into the ground, leaving long holes as he raised his insolent eyes to the villain hovering high in the sky, his throat cutting with searing pain.

“Aren’t you allergic for shut the fuck up?”

Solar growled, his throat aching, feeling like a few pebbles had gotten stuck in the screws moving inside him, as the attacks he had suffered from SUN a few minutes ago had left no mercy in their aftermath.

“Hmm…” The villain just tilted his head, his fingers flicking Solar’s ​​rays. A snap of his lips was heard as they said ‘Nope!’ 

The movements were almost too fast for Solar to react, as they giggled, lifted him up by the neck, and slammed him into a nearby wall.

Bricks flew out, causing the world in front of Solar to spin. The sharp pieces hitting his face were not as painful as SUN’s annoying voice. A few of his rays had cracked in half, black oil splattered all over his shirt.

“You don’t understand, the moon killed my brother.”

SUN’s fake joke was so empty that Solar felt disgusted. He felt like an ant, a toy in SUN’s hands, only alive because they were bored.

This time too, they only managed to save the world, because SUN was busy arguing with his henchmen and forgot to focus on their plan to blow up the moon.

Solar didn’t understand, and didn’t want to understand, with SUN’s power, whether he destroyed or dominated the world, it was all a piece of cake. But they were still here, with their unrealistic and ridiculous plans, as if they just wanted to play, as if they just wanted to dip their hands in blood and lick it like a cat just wanting to play with its prey.

They just wanted to spread agony and suffering, and they didn’t care whose life they took, as long as it was fun.

And in those empty, cruel eyes, there was no one but themselves.

“So, tell me Eclipse, what should I do with you?”

SUN’s voice again. They hummed, the bells clanging along their steps. There was something extremely eye candy, the way their crimson robes undulated as if they were alive, flexibly hugging SUN's slender body like a cat's tail.

The sunset cast a burnt orange glow over SUN’s face. They sat down, tilting their heads to look at him, their hands roughly grasping his rays, forcing him to look at them properly. Still as splendid and intact as ever, without a trace of worldly dust, with the mocking and indifferent look of a god from another world. Their minds always seemed to be lost somewhere, with a distorted look as if they only saw him, and this world as numbers, inanimate objects.

As if they were the only ones who existed here.

They still spoke so nonchalantly.

"You ruined my plan, you even injured my minions. I should have blown you up, or just made your death so slow, you would beg me to put you out of your misery.”

SUN whispered into Solar’s ​​ear, their voice was soft, too gentle and sweet as their hands squeezed Solar’s ​​shoulder blades, causing the metal to almost dent inward.

“But I’m feeling merciful today, so… Why don’t you sleep for a while, huh, Hero?”

Light exploded before Solar’s ​​eyes. A searing pain shot through his body, leaving him unable to react, only to convulse and collapse to the ground. Everything became too blurry, and what remained in SOlar’s ​​memory, was SUN’s hateful crescent smile.

—-

Tick… ​​Tok…

Solar didn’t know if it was the steady ticking of the clock, or the buzzing, fan-like sound that woke him up.

Where the hell was he? Just a few minutes ago he was still in the square, then–

Ah…

Solar grimaced, a terrible pain that seemed to crack his circuit board in half, pushing the jammed data to Solar’s ​​CPU.

Everything flashbacks to his eyes. 

The plan went wrong, he was separated from Moon and Lunar, and was knocked out by SUN.

And he woke up here… Where was this?

Everything was dark, hazy. It smelled like detergent, and the dampness was stagnant as if he were in a bathroom. He tried to get up but was immediately pulled back. It seemed like his neck was chained. The wire pressed against Solar’s ​​shoulder.

For a moment, Solar was terrified, thinking that SUN had finally gouged his eyes out or done something to negate his abilities to such an extreme degree.

But luckily, that wasn't the case. His eyes were just covered, felt rough like tape. And what was even more uncomfortable was that he was tied up.

Solar didn't know what the hell SUN had done, but his entire body was tied to the ground, making him unable to move at all. Solar's two hands were tied together and coiled with iron chains behind his back, while his ankles were all jingling as if the steel wires were being coiled together.

Rubbing against the wall, he realized that the chain was quite long, and based on the feeling from his rail, the end of the chain seemed to be fixed to the wall.

Solar tried to stand up, but only caused the chains to get tangled together and made him fall over. The black dust and oil stuck to Solar's palms, making him frown unconsciously in disgust.

‘Calm down Solar, first you need to figure out where you are.’ 

Solar gritted his teeth to calm himself down. He couldn’t be so desperate, if SUN kept him alive, maybe they needed Solar for something. He just needs to have hope.

Now he needs to think of a plan to escape. 

Diagnosing himself internally, he breathed a sigh of relief when none of his functions were too badly damaged. His battery was still at 54 percent, still not too bad, enough for him to think of a way to escape. And now, Solar needed to focus on his surroundings.

Took a deep breath, he curled up against the vertical wall, then tried to adjust his hearing to the highest possible level.

Tok… Tak…

They were probably on water, judging from the crashing sound he heard. The pungent smell of detergent, mixed with the strong iron smell of blood and oil, filled his nostrils. The steady, occasional clicking of the keyboard. Solar could also vaguely hear the sound of the television in the distance—

“MIKU, WE’LL TALK ABOUT YOUR NOVEL WRITING HABITS LATER!!!! YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO WRITE ABOUT YOUR BOSS LIKE THAT!!!--” SUN’s distant shout startled Solar. When did they arrive? Solar’s ​​radar didn’t even sense anything. Just a gust of wind blew by and—

“Oh, Eclipse~~ I didn’t expect you to wake up so early—”

SUN was speaking when he stopped. Solar could vaguely feel SUN’s gaze staring at him. There was a gasp from SUN’s direction, and then his mortal enemy walked out, the sound of footsteps fading away and their shrill, angry voices.

“MIKU!!! I TOLD YOU TO TIE HIM UP!! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?”

“What do you mean, Boss? Didn’t I tie him up nice and tight?” SUN’s henchman responded, her voice sounding bored, as if the anger of a villain who could turn dozens of cities into dust was a joke.

“NOT LIKE THIS!!! YOU— WHY DID YOU USE SO MANY CHAINS?!!!”

“Isn’t this supposed to be an extra session for you two? I just like making things more spicy.”

“Miku… I’m going to kill you. I’m going to kill you for real this time. And I’m going to cut your head off and throw it into the blender.” SUN hissed, even without looking, Solar could feel the smoke starting to puff out from the top of SUN’s head.

“Boss, you know that’s my kink. Don’t threaten me with a good time if you will chicken out on this latter. Being crushed by a criminal… Oh daddy, thinking about it makes me—”

“STOP!! Okay… I’m sorry. I admit I was wrong. Please stop talking.”

The sound faded away. It was gratifying to see SUN miserable, but was there something wrong with the way he was tied up. Honestly, if that was Miku’s job, she did a pretty good job for a lackey.

He literally couldn’t move.

The sound of the door slamming interrupted Solar’s ​​train of thought. SUN’s irritation, even the blind could see it.

A deep breath to compose themselves, then the voice returned to its usual contemptuous sneering.

“Isn’t it embarrassing? Letting you see this.”

A cool swish around Solar’s ​​neck and arms. Suddenly, his movements became easier. His arms were still tied behind his back, but everything about him was now free to move, including his neck. “What do you want?” Solar spatted out each word, wriggling his legs to relieve the fatigue. The real question he wanted to ask was why the hell was he in this place, because usually SUN would just dump him into whatever trash pit when they got bored and just leave him to fend for himself.

Not once had they dragged him back—if he guessed correctly, their lair.

“What do I want? Hmm? Let’s see…” The bell rang once more in Solar’s ​​ears, he could feel the soft, itchy feeling of the ribbon brushing against his cheek as someone’s footsteps drew closer. “—What could I want? Guess what I could want Eclipse? Money? World domination? Escape from boredom? Haha… I, right now, just want…”

The hem of SUN’s cloak draped over his legs, the minty scent mixed with someone’s extremely clean detergent lingering near Solar’s nose.

The soft feeling and weight of a hand pressed against Solar’s ​​thigh. The mockery was disguised as an invitation, as if they were something innocent. “…to be alone.” Solar could feel the curve of their backs, as they pulled themselves closer to Solar, as if to make him feel pressured by their presence. As if to make him fear them.

The vague shadows of their hands descended.

A gentle pressure on Solar’s ​​blindfold, as their fingertips leisurely traced lines up his jaw, then slowly go down to his neck.

Slow and gentle, as if asking a child not to eat cookies before dinner.

“I want you to stop bothering me. Once and for all.”

Solar didn’t really hear what SUN said. Too used to SUN deliberately making him feel uncomfortable, he just waited patiently for them to get close enough to make his move. Time seemed to stop between the two of them as Solar slammed his head into Sun’s face. He didn’t even care if his life was in SUN’s hands or if SUN could easily snap his neck right now, he just wanted to make that bastard feel angry for as many seconds as possible.

SUN’s screams of pain and confusion as he kicked his legs forward, knocking them down sounded like music from heaven for Solar.

In a flash, he pressed his knees against the other’s stomach, pinning them down with his own body. It was ridiculous, Solar didn’t even have any breathing space, but right now, he himself was panting. He could feel his entire body trembling, as the distance between him and freedom was only a hand’s breadth.

Of course, reality came back and slapped Solar in the face.

There was a growl of thrill under his knees, and suddenly, a strong pull on his neck caused him to fall backwards.

“You like to play like that, don’t you!”

That bastard used the damn chains they had cut as weapons against Solar. They didn't even use their strength, just pure physical strength to grapple with Solar, as if there was something funny about watching him clumsily fight them with no vision and his hands tied behind his back.

"Fuck you!" Solar spat. He ignored the taste of oil in his mouth and charged forward, only to fall over due to the shortness of the chains.

"Language." SUN scolded. "Aren't you a hero? Really proves my point." SUN sighed. "You never know when to stop." They sat on Solar's back, occasionally patting his head like a dog. 

The shadow moved closer to Solar's head, as they pulled him up. They even dusted him off, removing the sharp pieces of stone he had hit while they were wrestling. Solar stiffly tried to show his glare and malicious feeling, as the other tapped on his intact ray. It was quite painful, especially with the way they pressed their rounded fingertips to the top and pulled, as if wanting to rip it off Solar's head.

"Then, I'll make you a proposal." SUN's voice was leisurely, their hands brushing against Solar's collar.

"You leave me alone, and maybe... your two little friends... will stay intact."

"What do you mean by that?" Solar was startled, raising his head. It felt like something was twisting ugly in Solar's stomach, as if it was fear.

SUN had never used this method, they always simply exploded their power to wherever they hated. But SUN was also an evil person, and with these disgusting tricks, Solar was also used to it to the point of pain.

He just never hoped SUN would lower themselves to this level.

“Hehe… How stupid do you think I am that I don’t know you’re trying to buy my time? Your little fairy and scientist have been… captured by my loyal minions.” The bell rang as SUN leaned on his shoulder in delight. Something rustled as they waved it in front of him.

“Hey Eclipse… Do you want to know what they’re doing?”

At this moment, Solar finally understood the devil with an angel’s face. They spoke so softly, so sincerely, but their words were filled with cruelty. For the first time, Solar felt fear, he half dared to listen, half refused. Anxiety writhed like a knife stabbing into his heart.

<SJGUIOSP{

It sounded like radio static. Then gradually, Solar heard screams. The pitiful screams of innocent people, and…

Moon and Lunar.

“Help!! Eclipse!!! Help me!!!”

“Oh boy… Don’t worry Eclipse, we’re fine, we’ll be fine!!.”

“What do you mean???!!! You idiot, we’re about to die!!!”

And was cut off by a flat, emotionless voice.

“Boss, can I blow them up now?”

“No!! Don’t!!” Solar screamed. He tried to move forward but couldn’t, just desperately following the sounds of the people he cared about.

“Oh? My hero doesn’t want me to destroy these people?” SUN whispered, his even, hateful tone creeping nausea down SOlar’s ​​spine.

“So you know what you have to do?” SUN tapped Solar’s ​​head.

“What?”

“Apologize.”

“Huh?”

“I say sorry.” SUN said sternly. The cold tiredness was the most genuine, for the circus act just now. “Apologize for wasting my time. Sorry for being a troublemaker. Sorry for hurting my lackey. Sorry for being you, a hero, but more useless than those policemen out there.”

“And promise not to bother me again. Including giving this warning for those other annoying heroes.”

“If you promise to ignore me every time you see me, then the people, under your responsibility, will live.”

SUN’s whisper was like sweet venom biting into Solar’s ​​metaphorical heart.

“You don’t want innocent blood on your hands again, right?”

Solar’s ​​knees trembled. His throat felt like it was faulty, he couldn’t make a sound.

“If I agree, what will you do next?” Solar’s ​​voice faltered. Only to be answered by a jingling sound, as SUN’s arm pulled Solar around the neck.

“It’s not something you need to care about anymore, right?”

“So, what’s your decision?”

“I—”

“Save me, Eclipse! I’m scared!! I don’t want to go!!!”

“Don’t worry about us!!! Ecp—”

The voices mixed together, tearing him into two different pieces.

Is it too selfish when he just doesn’t want the people he cares about to be lost again?

“I– I’m sorry. Please spare them—” Solar gasped, squeezing out each word. His head was pounding. Everything was spinning and smashing him into a hundred pieces. He couldn’t think, any logical plan or backup plan, all gone when the people he had worked so hard to take care of were weighed down.

Eclipse was a hero but SOlar had always been selfish.

He couldn’t, he just couldn’t…

“It’s okay.” SUN’s voice was gentle in Solar’s ​​ear, causing him to lift his head.

“I forgive you.” SUN’s palm brushed against Solar’s ​​cheek, as they brought the walkie-talkie to their mouths.

“Blow them up, buddy.” SUN’s silvery bell-like laughter and the endearing voice from the other side like a nightmare shattered Solar’s ​​fleeting reality.

Solar didn’t even have time to scream. He hadn’t even finished speaking when the sound of the explosion hit his ears.

BOOM!!!

The screams died down quickly, along with the flickering of flames and the sound of something breaking.

Ah…

There was a static sound ringing in Solar’s ​​ears.

He still couldn’t process it. It felt like it wasn’t real.

Is that all?

It hurts… It hurts so much… His chest shouldn’t have hurt like this.

Suppressing everything Solar was feeling right now, he trembled, gritting out each word.

“Did– Didn’t you say we would make a deal?”

His voice box seemed to be broken because no matter how hard Solar tried, he couldn’t form words. A pat on the head from SUN, and for a moment, Solar could see the golden light flashing from the bastard’s crescent-shaped eyes.

“I lied. Have you forgotten that, hero? Villains always lie.”

Something wet was dripping from Solar’s ​​chin. Was he shivering? It was so cold, why did Solar feel so cold? He couldn’t understand, he just knew that he was shivering.

He couldn’t show weakness, he couldn’t cry in front of that cold-blooded bastard.

But Solar still lowered his head, unable to hold back the trembling sobs in his throat with black oil dripping from his eye sockets.

Look at that SOlar, that’s your true nature, a destroyer of happiness. Wherever you go, there will be devastation.

How disgusting you are, Eclipse.

The overly familiar voice in Solar’s ​​ears belonged to the ghost he had killed. And, another voice, more meticulous, gentle that Solar rather just ran away.

‘What would you do without me, Eclipse?’

00000000

“Haha– Look at you, I was just kidding. It was all fake–” SUN laughed heartily.

Eclipse’s face went blank like an idiot, making him laugh out loud. Yeah, SUN was evil, but he wasn’t evil enough to do that. Professionals have standards. Threatening the hero’s loved ones, the cheapest trick in Villain 101. SUN was just so fed up with the face they always wore and the way they always got in his way, he wanted to make a prank to embarrass them.

It was easy to imitate the voices of the sidekicks. He meant, they were all animatronics, the dialog boxes were pretty similar.

And the guy named MOnty made a pretty good script, even if it was just an online transaction.

He should pay them more, SUN thought slowly, still staring at the camera.

He didn't expect them to apologize to him easily like that. Anyway, everything has been recorded, he will bring this evidence back and upload it online for the whole world to know how pathetic their hero Eclipse was.

Huh?

Why was his hand wet?

Did they hit any water pipes so hard that they cracked them?

No, it was black.

Oh… Huh?!

SUN looked closely at Eclipse's face. Two lines of black liquid were flowing down Eclipse's cheeks. They were crying. Ouch… They were crying… OHHHHH

Those three words hit SUN's face like a hammer. It shook SUN and slammed SUN to the ground, screaming the words you are a terrible person.

A sob echoed in the silent atmosphere. Luckily Molten was going outside, otherwise with their enhanced hearing, they would definitely crawl out to check if SUN was okay.

…

What now? SUN hadn’t actually thought about what he would do at this stage. He was always the type to act first, think later.

Beat Eclipse off, mock him, sure. But then what?...

Uh…

And with Eclipse keeps continuing to shed tears like this, it became awkward, and—

Did he go too far? He had been like this all the time before, he never cried.

And now, should SUN comfort Eclipse?

“Um… I was just kidding… See… They’re still alive.” SUN hesitantly poked his fingertips. He awkwardly moved closer to wipe Eclipse’s tears. But the more he wiped, the more they flowed. And when he removed the tape from Eclipse’s face, the black oil came out even more, soaking a black patch on SUN’s shirt.

SUn’s internal system was screaming, congratulations, you fucked up, and the little SUNs in his head were jumping around screaming.

What the hell could he do?

“Hey Boss, are you done with your antics? I need you to take me out.”

Okay… SUN admitted that he still thought MIKu was a nuisance, but he had never been more grateful for Miku’s presence than now.

“Miku!!! Save me— Oh, I mean, help me with this.”

“Huh? Don’t tell me you guys are playing too rough and I need you to find a mechanic?”

The rude bastard who never respected SUN stepped in. The smile on her lips disappeared when she saw SUn still wiping Eclipse’s tears, surrounded by a pile of ruins.

That deranged dared to look at him with judgmental eyes.

“Boss. What did you do to him?”

“I didn’t do anything??”

“You guys didn’t do bondage with each other too hard, right? I totally  understand if that the case but~~~”

“You don’t understand shit!!”

SUN waved his hand. Both of them completely ignored the sound of metal being torn apart from each other.

Bang!!!

SUN flew into the wall unexpectedly. He groaned and crawled out, before MIku's wide eyes, proving that even she had no idea what was going on.

"Come back here."

The voice was truly terrifying.

SUN turned around in shock. His mortal enemy, standing unsteadily, with a murderous aura like that of a demon from hell.

Their eyes were red, they growled his name in their throats as if it could tear SUN in half.

Honestly seeing his hero this angry, it would be an understatement to say that SUN didn't feel a little bit scared.

--

Solar staggered, his wrist aching terribly, with a wet feeling dripping onto the floor. The sound of the chain falling onto the tiled floor was still too much for Solar's processor to process the situation, he could only vaguely hear SUN stammering about how this was Tungsten, how the hell could he break it.

Shakily, he brushed the remaining tape off his face, the soft light of the bathroom hitting Solar’s ​​eyes. Oh, so he was right. Nice, he liked potted plants. After a few seconds of panic, Solar had finally realized that he was being pranked. But he didn’t expect SUN to be so caught off guard that Solar could just break the lock and attack them like that. His hand limply touched the button in his palm, the familiar voice of Moon rushed over, intermittently telling them that they were okay and where the hell he was.

Good… Good… Good.

Solar nodded numbly.

Fuck SUN.

Solar just wanted to punch someone right now.

His eyes widened, capturing SUN’s image in his retinas. Their enemy looked more rugged than usual, probably still confused with the stunt he pulled.

Good, let them be confused.

His hand flashed, and Solar smiled contentedly, as he heard SUN scream loudly.

“Shit–!! MIKU!!! Throw your stuff out the window, we—”

BOOM!!!

—-

“Hey Moon.”

“Hey SOlar. Sorry… I’m late again. It’s okay, I've got you now.”

“... I’m just tired. I think I want to go home and sleep.”

“Don’t worry buddy. Just leaving everything for us, and resting. We got you now.

—---

Somewhere…

“Boss, it’s all your fault.” Miku yelled as she was carried by SUN like a sack of potatoes as they flew through the night.

They could have had a cozy place to stay and not drive SUN’s cleaning function crazy. But no, now they had to find another place to stay, which took a ton of time because her Boss was a picky bitch.

“I KNOWWWWW. Now shut it before I drop you!! We also need to find Molten too.”

[gingermintpepper]

Fate-Master I

I did say I would post more wips of my Zeus and Apollo writing so here's a bit from a series I've been writing concerning a young Apollo grappling with being the up and coming Moiragetes - Master of the Fates.

Do let me know if there's any interest for this sort of thing; I didn't originally intend to post this stuff anywhere, but I've just been so frustrated that I feel like it's necessary now 😂

Apollo marks time by etching notches into a clay tablet. He watches from the edge of the mountain’s summit, six of his crows perched three-by-three atop his shoulders and the seventh casting her gaze down onto the maidens all gathered to pick their flowers. He watches them laugh and joke and throw their petals all about, free and fragrant with an easy camaraderie spread thick between them all. He carves his first notch when Persephone lays eyes on the innocent narcissus; in his visions he could never make sense of time’s passing - he did not know how long she would remain swallowed, merely that it would be long enough for her to be missed, searched for, grieved and avenged.

 It will be worth it all in the end.  

Soon, all the world will delight in the birth of new Seasons, a new system of time to mark the stabilisation of this new era.  

He averts his eyes when the earth crumbles beneath Persephone’s feet. There is no way for him to deny it if he truly does bear witness to the act. Apollo cannot see the pitch-black rider on his earth-dark horses as he grabs the maiden. He cannot see those immortal steeds galloping down, down, infinitely down beneath the earth so their rider may delight in his prize. He does not know the sound of her screams as the ground eats her alive. Only the narcissus remains when he once more casts his gaze down, white and untouched. Innocent. Like Apollo. Neither of them have seen a single thing. 

(But oh, her screams are loud in his ear. Big, reedy yells, wet with phlegm. A fawn crying for her mother, the tittering of a sparrowling swallowed foot-first by the viper. They never seemed this loud in his dreams, like footnotes easily overlooked at the very bottom of the page. Apollo does not see her go, but he hears her. He hopes he is the only one who hears.) 

He calls for his darling crow to return to him, stepping light into the halls of Olympus. His day will continue on as normal but to visit his mother so he can request a particularly thick himation for the coming days. Lemnos clicks next to his ear and Apollo huffs, dismissing his crows in a scatter of bright white feathers and glittering metal. They will watch what he cannot. They will make sure the maiden remains buried deep beneath the earth. 

The subtle cold emanating from his father’s quarters curls about his calves - he did not realise he had already travelled the length of the halls. He does not knock before he enters; the women are all busy this time of day and shrewd Athena is still out dancing with his sister, it will just be Father in his room, bent over his table or pouring over one of his maps. 

“It is done.” 

And Father looks up from his writing, a knowing glint shining in wine-dark eyes. His face remains frightfully still, marble stiff and focused on Apollo with the full weight of his eagle sharp intent. “You did not see it?” 

Her scream is the same as the highest note on the aeolian scale. A wonderfully piercing ‘A’. It is similar to the sound that resonates in the sky’s centre, Apollo cannot stop hearing it in his ear. “I did not.” 

Father smiles then, like sunlight peeking through the rough edges of the storm, “Good. That’s good.” He puts his hand to his face, scratches his chin as he hums contemplative. “How much time do we have before… well, before.” 

Demeter’s wailing will be a much darker sound, phrygian and guttural, discordant. Apollo’s had the score written for months now. He thinks he will hang Persephone’s cry next to it. Maybe he will incorporate their melodies into the song he will play at her return. Maybe it is cruel of him to already be thinking such things. “I know not. Time has never been the clearest to me, even in my most vivid of visions.” 

“It is no matter,” Father leans forward, digs a bolt of bright red fabric out of his drawer. “Here,” When he catches it, Apollo feels a denseness in the fibres he has never known. They’re slick yet springy, far coarser than sheep’s wool but unlike any goatskin or leather he has ever handled. “For the cloak you will ask of your mother.”   

He is slowly becoming accustomed to his thoughts not being his own, to his father living so closely in his head. The woven string connecting them still bleeds dye if either of them pull too hard on the connection, but in these quiet moments, it is a comfort. A lifeline. 

“Chimera skin, so it will not burn when you wear it for your work.” Would Father be this calm if it was Artemis swallowed by the earth? Would Apollo? That watery scream is a persistent ringing, she is still screaming far beneath where none but the rider can hear her. (Apollo hears her. Even now, he can hear the heavy breath of the dark stallions, the ripping winds that sting at her ears. Persephone is a friend, can he really leave her to this fate -?) “Phoebus.” 

Father’s broad palm is warm on his shoulder. It pulls him gently from his spiralling thoughts. The heat is unexpected; even now, Apollo can feel his toes going stiff from the room’s chill. 

“I am well,” he hears himself say, distant like the clanging stallion hooves which carry the rider’s prize deeper beneath the earth. Father does not let him go when he tries to escape. He does not tighten his hold either. His hand merely remains on Apollo’s slim shoulder, a point to anchor him here and not there. Apollo focuses on the faint hum of his father’s power, the gentle whistle of his cloud-hairs as they flow about his head, the muffled shuffling of his crows’ feathers as they settle in the gables to await his return. He no longer hears her. Not her, not the dread chariot. He cannot hear a single thing. “I am well.” 

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Insomnia and allergies are killing me (they aren’t anymore cause i wrote this part a week ago) so prepare for a bunch of Angel Dust facts that no one needs to know about and Vivziepop will probably end up ignoring!

Some of these are headcanons and some of these are canon facts so they will be colourcoded as such! Headcanons will be blue and canon facts will be red. Anything that relates to real spiders will be listed with a 🕷️! Some of these will also get a little doodle from me

Much like an average spider, Angel can feel and sense when storms are coming. These freak him out and will make him curl up on the ground.🕷️

Angel is sensitive to vibrations and especially sensitive to stronger ones like lightning and earthquakes. (Hell does not have earthquakes.) Stronger ones make him paranoid and nauseous from his organs moving around.🕷️

He definitely needs glasses to see far away but doesn’t bother since it hardly becomes an issue in daily life.🕷️

Jumping spiders change how they see btw! Less light = more detail, More detail = less light.

Vision Examples:

He can also see behind him but I don’t have that angle so this is the best you get

Sleeps curled up.🕷️

Also follows lasers! Not in the same way a cat would, but any interesting movement in his peripheral vision will cause him to turn toward it to see it better.🕷️

Can see ultraviolet light.🕷️

Has a tree nut allergy (Hazelnuts and walnuts. He is unfortunately a very big hazelnut fan.)

Dresses up Fat Nuggets on Halloween. And basically every other day. Seems to have a preference for the witch hat

Owns a skateboard??

Why do his eyes glow pink why can he do that on command

Can dialate his pupils at will I guess

Molts. Basically like shedding but if you also had to scrub a chunk of your skin off. Lasts 1-2 days.🕷️

Very often used to say slurs without knowing they were slurs and probably still does sometimes

Currently still under the impression his sister is alive. She also probably found him after he overdosed.

Struggles to keep track of time

No idea what half the letters in LGBTQIA+ mean

Recently learned what a pride flag is

Angel has small retractable hooks/claws inside his palm that he can use to hold onto surfaces.🕷️

Angel hates people crying around or on him and will push them away or distance himself.

Examples:

Angel is very skittish around fire even though it cannot hurt him.

Hates the smell of citrus fruits.🕷️

Angel has two fangs (primary for injecting and liquifying food) on the roof of his mouth, much sharper papillae in the back of his throat and a second set of venomous fangs near the deeper in his throat that are to inject larger food and paralyze it but there is the rare occasion where the fangs stab his own throat and he collapses for a few hours after getting the fangs unstuck and he just lays there until it wears off and it kind of looks like he's dead cause there’s probably blood in his mouth but hes fine /hj🕷️

This is more of a food safety precaution. If he ate something live he would inject it with venom if it wasn’t dead yet, but he does not do this so these fangs are basically pointless and he might as well just get them removed at this point

Angel DOES have lungs! I know this seems like a very basic fact but some spiders have book lungs! Different from ours they don’t breathe the same way we do, just like how spiders don’t have blood like humans. This is me being a nerd, but we have seen that Angel has mentioned his lung capacity and he has the ability to cough as seen in Episode 5 (I think its 5 dont quote me on that) This means he cannot have book lungs since if he did he would not be able to cough, nor would he be able to sneeze or hiccup.🕷️

Angel is likely right handed in his top pair of hands, left handed or ambidextrous in his middle pair, and as for the bottom it seems like either ambidextrous or he just doesn’t like to use them for actions at all.

This is like half headcanon but also I pay way more attention to this shit than Viv does so Im basically right all the time

It doesn’t get super cold in hell Id assume, but on the rare occasion it gets colder or the AC in the hotel is on really high that is one of the few times Angel will use webbing and will wrap himself in it and crawl under a blanket and stay there. If it’s really cold or he plans on being in a cold area for maybe a week or month or so he might go into diapause to conserve energy, warmth, and food. (This can also happen when he has sudden sharp changes in diet and during daylight savings)🕷️

This will be updated again I can feel it in my bones. Hopefully this can satiate you all while I move house 🫶

[lint-beetle4]

Fleeting Memories (ShadowPeach Angst & Fluff)

I've been waiting for so long to write this! Thank you for the request!!

Fun Fact: I have class in 4 minutes

Also, Mild Gore Warning

The journey was long, arduous, and even painful, if Wukong was being honest.

Yet, despite it all, Wukong had grown more through the short time they spent together. Trial after trial, Wukong slowly learned to be more compassionate, more considerate, and more patient. He was growing to fit the title he'd made for himself, and to that, as their journey approached an end, a bittersweet feeling had crawled into Wukong's chest and decided the settle there.

It was the bitterness that flowed through his blood as Wukong fought against his greatest friend, his brother, his second-in-command.

The Great Sage had never seen his friend so upset...so hateful.

It was a sorrowful sight, something Wukong never wished upon the person who he tried to keep close to. After the war, Wukong never saw Macaque, not when he was cast from the monk's group, nor when he regrouped his fallen soldiers and subjects and rebuilt his kingdom. His subjects spoke of the shadow demon, how he was fueled with rage and grief.

Oh, how it hurt to Sage to hear how his comrade tried so hard to save the immortal monkeys from the trappers and hunters who tormented the fallen kingdom, how Macaque continued to fight battle after battle, protecting the fragile island from the devastating fires of Erlang Shen.

Yet, the past was washed away, Wukong and Macaque's final parting words had created a divide, only for them to be united in a battle that breathed finality.

"Macaque, don't make me do this!"

The darker simian didn't respond, his cackling ringing through Wukong's ears as the sage threw blow after blow, defending the monk and his new brothers. Macaque's laughter turned into pained yelps and shouts, he was losing, but the shadow demon refused to stop, and Wukong felt his heart steal itself for the final blow.

Macaque laid on the ground, bleeding profusely and limp. His pained breaths inhaled with a final shout, a final plead for Wukong to just listen. Yet, Wukong couldn't hear him anymore, Macaque's voice turning sour in his ears as he lifted his staff.

"Wait, Wukong, stop--"

Crunch.

Ringing filled the air, Wukong's blood pumped through his body, deafening him as Macaque went limp with a resounding gurgle ending into a wet sigh.

He was dead.

But, his eye looked directly at him. His mouth kept moving. Wukong could hear everyone in the distance, but Macaque's voice stood in front of him.

"...Wukong."

'Forgive me.'

"Wukong--!"

'Please close your eyes. Rest.'

"Wukong!"

'The battle is over. It's done. Let him rest.'

"Oh, to all the gods, Wukong. Wake up!"

Wukong sat up with a gasp, air running through him as if nothing more but a fleeting memory. It hurt.

Wukong's eyes flickered through his sleeping quarters, tidy yet clearly loved. Shadows flickered through the corners as Wukong snapped his head to his side, seeing Macaque--alive, finally alive.

Macaque was disheveled in front of Wukong, his mane tussled with what seemed like sleep and high winds.

Wukong couldn't focus on it much, his eyes tightly shut as his nightmares gripped at his mind with a strength he hadn't felt in centuries.

The darker simian seemed concerned, his voice whispering too low to reach through the growing trembles and pounding of Wukong's heart. Yet, the sight of him was heavenly enough, honey pouring through air, warming the way it stabbed in his chest.

In the back of his mind, Wukong heard sobs-- pitiful, heavy sobs--in the air as Macaque's voice continued to futilely speak.

Couldn't the fool see Wukong was currently too occupied to listen properly?

His chest clenched painfully, Wukong curling into himself with a whimper that ran like grease through his body. He felt ashamed to be in such a state, to be shaking and crying out for a past like an abandoned cub in fire-scorched forests. Macaque's hands hovered above him, and despite everything, Wukong flinched hard.

Macaque pulled away, his mouth shutting as his eyes merely softened at the sight of the King.

"Wukong."

Macaque's voice was clear, and by the gods, Wukong heard every ounce of love in it. He missed it so much; he missed him so much. Wukong sobbed again, tears dampening his fur as the sage grit his teeth, trying to quiet the noises that bothered him so.

"Wukong--Look at me."

Desperation, only pure desperation in that honey-filled voice, deep and clinging to Wukong's ears like a lifeline. Wukong obeyed blindly, Macaque's eyes examining Wukong carefully.

"You're in your house right now--it's empty, despite the fact that you have hoard stashes in your closet. But, you're not there anymore, and I'm here."

Wukong still felt tears pouring down his face, the air stinging his cheeks. He felt Macaque get closer, arms now confidently around Wukong's shoulders in a hug that Wukong swore he forgot the feeling of.

"I'm here now. I'm not leaving."

"You won't leave..? Promise me--please--that you won't leave me here like this." Wukong sobbed, sinking his head into Macaque's soft fur, the scent of fruit still surrounding him with bitter nostalgia.

Macaque shook his head, arms tightening around Wukong as the shadow demon spoke with a thick, broken voice. "I promise. I'll be right here."

Wukong's trembling increased as his sobs jolted through his body. He half felt bad about ruining Macaque's fur like this--the ginger monkey knew how pridefully Macaque took his appearance. Yet, the night continued on, Wukong's tears eventually drying as his trembling settled into a fatigued weakness. Macaque never left, only whispering words that covered Wukong like a silk blanket in the cool night.

"Thank you," Wukong shuddered, lifting his head to look at the strangely calm Macaque. "Thank you so much."

"Go to sleep, Peaches. You look terrible."

Macaque shook his head, a fond smile that Wukong reciprocated.

The two laid down, Macaque never letting go of Wukong as the latter buried his head into Macaque's chest with a weak grin.

"Goodnight, Peaches. I love you."

Wukong fell asleep with warmth through his body, the past drifting away as nothing more than a bad nightmare.

The sun rose, burning Wukong's eyelids as it forced the king to rise. He could always count on its light to pierce through any dream he could've had. The warmth around Wukong had left, it seems, leaving him chilled.

Macaque left, Wukong sighed to himself, looking away from the blinding light that cast away the shadows of the night.

The house felt cold despite the warm glow of the sun.

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Imagine Abby thinking you sacrificed your live to save hers

Abby took slow steps towards the edge of the same cliff she'd watched. You throw yourself over just a few seconds ago followed by at least twenty to thirty runners and clickers. She counted each second after that in her head waiting to catch a glimpse of your hand appearing at the top.

Five went by and still there was no sign you somehow managed to pull off the impossible. Abby didn't believe in God or praying, but she was willing to try anything right now. If it would bring you back to her in one piece. She dropped to her knees just a foot short of the edge taking a fistful of her own jacket. Tears clouded her vision as a guttural scream ripped free from her throat. A cry. A desperate plea to the heavens above for a miracle.

Abby refused to believe you were truly gone. She was never good at being open with her feelings, but it got even worse after the death of her father. After losing him Abby shut down completely leading to her break-up with Owen, and months of isolation from her friends. It took a year for the other wolves to get her to warm up to them after her and Owen joined up with the group.

But you were the one who slipped past her defenses right into her heart. Every single wall Abby built to stop herself from ever falling for someone so hard. To the point where the mere thought of losing them made her to curl up in a ball, and cry. Crumbled in your presence until just the sight of you smiling at her caused a red tint to coat her cheeks.

She had a bad feeling about this particular patrol when Issac gave her the location. He was sending the two of you to search making sure it was still clear of infected. An old rotting building the wolves used as a main outpost at once, until the Seraphites pushed them back. But in the past couple of months the WLF were able to gain some ground in the ongoing war, and this was one of the areas. They had managed to regain control over, and Issac wanted to establish dominance now while he had the chance. The building had way too many entry points Abby could see for a mile away. Instead of deciding to turn back and return with a bigger group. She led you into the infected death trap where the two of you were separated. When the horde descended out of nowhere, and a few moments later out of ammo armed with just her fists. Abby found herself cornered about to be devoured.

You came out of nowhere dropping out of a hole in the ceiling right behind the horde. Without hesitation you drew them in shooting your gun into the air. The shots ranging out drew every single last one of them away from her, and then you tore out of the building still shooting. They followed with growls and rumbling moans.

Abby took down as many as she could, but without a viable weapon there was nothing she could do to help you.

Now you were gone and would never the truth about how she felt about you. You were dead because of her. The image of you being caught in the mob of infected while falling to your death flashed through her mind. Abby fell over resting her forehead on the in the freezing snow as a sob racked through her body. She just hoped you had a quick death, and felt no pain. You deserved better.

So caught up on in grieving your death the usual always on alert wolf didn't pick up. On the sound of a pair of footsteps approaching her in almost frantic run. Nor did she register your voice or your hands gripping both sides of her face. Pulling her upright to face you, and it was then when her blue eyes bored into your own soft ones wide with worry. She realized you were still alive, and the water works got even worse.

"Abby what's wrong? Did one of them bite you? Abby please tell me you're not infected after what I just went through. Abbs talk to me" You pleaded with your best friend. Your hands fell from her face to search the rest of her body looking for any tears in her clothing, and a bite mark. Thankfully you found none, but it still made no sense to you why she was crying so hard.

"Abby hey its okay I'm here" You whispered brushing a few strands of light brown hair out of her face. Leaning forward to press a quick kiss to her forehead as your arms wrapped her shoulders. Abby clung to you as the sobbing began to subside.

Eventually Abby recovered enough to pull away from your embrace. The next thing she did baffled you more than anything. Before you could get to your feet your body was sprawled out in the snow. You looked up at the muscular girl a mixture of confusion and anger dancing in your eyes. She had shoved you onto your back, and it wasn't a playful shove either. Abby meant it with hurtful intent.

"What the hell was that for?" You snapped propping yourself up on your elbows. Abby towered over you her bottom lip quivering.

"You nearly got yourself killed idiot" she shouted.

"Yeah and I saved your damn life in the process. A thank you would be nice." You replied back not holding back your own attitude. This wasn't an argument you intended to lose.

"I never asked you to do that" Abby shot back.

"The alternative would've been watching you die. Would you had rather I'd done that?"

"Yes anytime you have to choose between saving me or yourself. You choose yourself I'm not worth dying for y/n" she yelled jabbing a finger at you. Her rage no longer hidden beneath the surface anymore. It had broke free letting you see she wasn't just upset by your actions, but genuinely angry.

You were on your feet now. "That's bull Abby for some many reasons, but even if I wanted too. I couldn't what kind of partner would that make me?"

" I don't care about any of that y/n. I only care about you okay" She gripped you by your forearms bringing your body to hers. You wouldn't have been able to resisted if you wanted. "You're not just a friend to me okay, you're so much more than that. I-" Abby paused short of finishing what you both knew she was about to say.

But once those words were spoken there was no going back, and Abby wasn't ready for that this whole situation had gotten out of control. More than she ever wanted to and the only thing she could do now to make sure things stayed normal between you and her was walk away.

So that's exactly what she did.

Abby released her hold on your arms letting you step back from her. Both of you were breathing heavily as you regarded her with sympathy and curiosity.

"Just don't do anything dumb like that again okay. You're a one of our best. We can't afford to lose you" Abby murmured. Then she turned around and started walking back towards the outpost.

I can't afford to lose you

She hadn't said it but you heard it along with the underlying tone of softness in her voice. Abby Anderson was in love with you.

You were sure of it now, and she was going to admit to you one way or another.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Ahhh Wendy! I hope you get this before your askbox closes! Pls pls pls write a part 2 for “It’s Just An Arrangement” if you can! I’m dying to see what happens next!

It's Just an Arrangement (Part 2): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: 561

tw: kidnapping

masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Finale

The first thing you realize when you wake up is that you have a very dry mouth. You smack your lips together, hazily coming-to as your mouth tries but fails to start up your saliva glands.

The second thing you experience is a sharp smell. You jolt, your nose curling as the odor of ammonia cuts through the darkness. And it's dark. You only have a vague awareness of the space around you - but you confirm with a few glances that you are, in fact, not in your bedroom where you slept without Ran. You're somewhere else, somewhere... awful.

A dull ache echoes in your bones as you try to sit up, but as you wriggle your arms and legs, you can't seem to free them. Panic rises in your throat, and you shout for help, the piercing cry echoing in the empty room.

"Hello?"

Your voice is nothing more than a croaking of doom. But you won't stop fighting. "Hello?" You yank at your bodily restraints and hear the clinking of metal against metal.

Wait.

You pause in your efforts, feeling something in your memory come back to you. You had an argument with Ran. Another endless, drawn-out way for him to tell you that the arrangement would never change. You weren't permitted to look outside of the marriage for companionship either. It would be too risky, too shame-inducing. So, you had to pretend. Then you remember Ran walking out of the kitchen while you were mid-sentence, and--

Light floods into your eyes as a door opens, and for a brief second, you hope that whatever you're suffering is simply a vivid nightmare. You hiss and look away; eyes stinging from the sudden contact.

"Looks like you're awake." Your skin crawls as a shadow waltzes into the room, and someone chuckles lazily. "Sorry to bring you here like this, Mrs. Haitani. But it seems that people aren't getting the message in Bonten."

"What do you want from me?" you ask, voice shakier than you intended it to be.

"I don't want anything from you except full cooperation. If that happens, you'll get out of here in no time, alright?" Another light switches on - but this one is further away. You try to catch a glimpse of who the man is, but you can't seem to make out any features.

You don't reply to the comment, but as soon as you see a flashlight shining your way, you flinch. "Say 'hello', princess." You look back and see the phone aimed at your face. "Tell your husband you're here with me."

"H-hi..." You want to interrupt the man and tell him that you're the last person he should have kidnapped if he wanted to get a ransom. But he continues in his drawling.

"You've got five days if you want to see her alive again. Five days. I want my money, Haitani. You owe me." The flashlight clicks off, and you exhale, looking away from the camera and at the ground. "Thank you for being so good." The man's cooing disgusts you, but you swallow your words and nod.

"I need some water," you croak, but the man doesn't pay any attention to you. He just gathers his things and leaves you alone, still tied up and immobile.

All your life, you've been a pawn. And now is no different.