#even in a blinded state of rage and fear

[fairy-verse]

what would horror do if dust were to be injured by another fairy?

It doesn’t bode well to speak of the horrors of the night.

“Bunny…”

“Hey,” speaking softly, as if to not agitate his mate any further, Dust tenderly kissed the shimmering tears that trickled so softly down Horror’s cheeks, his gentle giant just barely keeping his composure up. “I’m okay, Horror. I’m not going to die.”

Horror released a broken whine and a short sob, and he cradled the smaller fairy closer to himself as he quietly cried. “I was scared.”

“I know.”

“I thought they… they were…” his words were muddled, and his mind felt confused. His tongue felt swollen. Had he bitten it? “I thought they were going to… to take you away… to somewhere I couldn’t follow.”

“Shh, Horror,” Dust soothed, his hands stroking over Horror’s skull, his cheeks, his tense shoulders. “I’m here. I won’t leave you alone.”

Shedding more tears as softer whimpers left him, Horror desperately clung to his mate, feeling so ashamed and frightened all at the same time. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. He didn’t want to be alone. “Stay with me… please. I love you, Dust… I love you.”

With his joints growing stiffer by the minute, Dust forced himself to stay calm as he kissed Horror’s forehead, his mind filling with scribbles of the near future. “I love you, too, Horror. I won’t ever leave you. I promise.”

It doesn’t bode well to speak of the stardust that blows in the wind of the night, nor of the petite fairy who, without interrupting his lover’s restless sleep, snuck away during the cover of darkness to fill the silent hours with screams and begs for mercy. Heeding neither plea nor cry, the little fairy plunged into a pool of icy water to rid himself of glittering stardust, for once taking care to clean himself properly.

Without as much of a creak of wood or a silent hush, Dust crept into Horror’s arms once more, leaving a soft kiss atop his chest before cuddling in against his pleasant warmth.

“I promise I’ll protect you forever, Horror. I won’t ever leave you alone. Never.”

[kazvha]

Sae and Rin reaction to seeing the reader couching blood in their matches? The reader is cheering for the brothers like she always does, and suddenly she starts to cough lots of blood and she passes out. When the they noticed, they immediately stop playing and went to the reader while they screaming in terror and fear. They desperately want help from the people in there.

Summary: His reaction when you faint during his match

Including: Sae & Rin (separated)

Notes: I actually have no idea what happens when you faint in a stadium😅 Tried my best though

SAE ITOSHI

Sae was proud to have you cheering for him every match. Although he had lots of supporters, his eyes only looked at your figure every time he scored a goal. He would never grow tired of your beaming face.

You jumped and screamed like always the next time Sae scored a goal, only to get a coughing attack. The coughs wouldn't stop even after drinking water, and eventually, you started coughing blood. It stained your top, and suddenly a wave of weakness hit you, which made cling to the railing in front of you.

"Hey! Is everything alright?", asked one person next to you, before your consciousness slipped into nothing.

A commotion formed around you, and people panicked and screaming for help. Sae noticed it out of the corner of his eyes and scanned through the crowd for your figure. When his eyes found you in that unconscious state, red liquid dripping from your lips, he froze.

"[Name]?!", he cried out in terror before sprinting up to you in a straight line.

When he arrived at your side you were already put into the recovery position and someone called the ambulance. He was caught up in fear. The goal and the game were long forgotten, the only thing on Sae's mind was you. How did this happen? Were there signs he didn't notice?

His hands trembled as he rubbed your shoulder and attempted to calm himself down. "Everything will be fine."

He never left your side when you were carried out, his hand never left your cold one.

RIN ITOSHI

You always being there and cheering for him during his matches was the thing that kept him going. Every time Rin took a breather, he glanced in your direction. He admired how good you looked in his jersey, with his name written on your face, and then he concentrated on the game again.

You were screaming your lungs out in a fan chant until you suddenly suffered from a coughing fit. Your eyes widened when you noticed the blood on your hands after wiping your lips, and the next thing that happened was... Darkness.

The first half was nearing the end with three minutes of overtime when Rin took another look in your direction. Seeing your state, eyes closed, and leaning back into your seat made him frown at first, and then he noticed the blood.

His instincts immediately took over. He ran across the field screaming your name frantically, his voice full of fear and terror. He hoped you would respond, but you didn't, your eyes remained closed. Rin hastically climbed up to your seat reaching for your shoulder and trying his luck again to no avail. He checked your pulse. Luckily, you were still breathing.

Seething with rage he screamed at the wide-eyed people around him, "How blind has someone to be to not notice the person next to you passing out?! Call an ambulance, before I crush you all into little pieces!"

His eyes coldly pierced through everyone he looked at. "Stop filming! You shits don't even have one spark of decency in you!" Rin was ready to attack everybody, but his teammate who appeared beside him, restrained him.

Two minutes later the emergency physicians arrived and carried you to the ambulance. Rin insisted on staying by your side the whole time, even if it meant abandoning his match.

[heartfullofleeches]

Fletcher and foxboy malewife are my favorite but what if.... fletcher and naga malewife? I think that'd be interesting

Yan Farmer Flemish Rabbit Hybrid + Naga Reader

[No pronouns used for Reader but they are referred to as wife and intended to be male]

-

"Give it back...... Give it back...."

A stalking plague falls upon the sleepy town. Residents of a once a bustling burrow of rabbits now lock their doors soon as the sun sets over the mountains in fear of the shadow lurking down every barren alleyway. Hunger pains, yet it does not seek the flesh of these creature. It hunts each night - a restless search for the item able to free it from this place. Anger and fear rule its mind, teeth flared at any and all who answer their pleas incorrectly. Confusion replaces the fear dread in the hearts of its victims at the accusations of theft. Regardless, the beast points their claws at whomever crosses their path til what they have lost is rightfully returned.

"Give it back...."

"This what you're lookin' for?"

A chain dangles freely from the rabbit's finger - moonlight bouncing off the blood red gem tailored to the sliver band attached to the end of the chain. There's something odd about this rabbit. Why does this one smell so... familiar?

The barn.

Your sanctuary from the raging storm has been the crux of all your troubles from the very beginning. This rabbit must be is caretaker then. You've seen him in passing, but had no interest in him besides his herd so you never paid much attention to the details. One that goes without saying is how large the man is. Your tail gives you leverage now, but if you don't get your ring back soon then surely-

"It's rude to keep what isn't yours. Give it to me."

"Hey, now- I found this on my property fair and square. I even waited the first couple of nights for you to come back, but you never showed. I was starting to worry I'd never see you again."

Does he enjoy the sound of his own voice? Something catches your eye over the rabbit's shoulder. A glimmer of yellow breaking over the horizon. Panic sets in as a tingle runs through the nerves of your tail. It won't be long now. You needed to act fast. The rabbit looked to be aware of your peril as he takes several steps back into the growing sunlight. Your hand recoils as it creeps towards you.

"Been watching you for a long time now. Long enough to know a small bit about this whole... situation you got going on. I'll give you this ring back - for a price.~"

He's stalling. Sunlight blinds your sight as that accursed ball of light peeks over the buildings. Your body slowly begins to shrink - tail splitting in two as you topple over from the sudden shift in your shape. You crash to the ground - the bulk of your scales receding into your all too human flesh as you land. The rabbit whistles, turning a bashful eye away from your nude figure.

"If humiliating me is what you wanted, I'd say you got what you wished. Can I have my ring back now?"

A curse passed down generation by generation. By night, you are your true self. By day, you are forced to walk this earth on two legs like the rest of animal kin. The disadvantage it puts you at is steep. Smaller, weaker, pitiful. That ring has the power to return you to your proper state even now. You have to get it back.

The rabbit appears offended by your words.

"Humiliate you? Now why on earth would I want to humiliate my wife? You'll get this ring back on our wedding day. I'd love to get you something flashy myself, but it's nicer to keep things in the family. Sooner we get married, sooner you get this back - got it?."

He.... can't be serious. You still return to your true form by sunset. You may be able to overpower him then. As things stood now, you had no chance. Not only was he bigger than you, but in the scarce chance you obtain the upper hand now the town's people are sure to come to his rescue before you can grab what's yours and flee.

"Alright. I will become your wife in exchange for what's mine."

The rabbit grins. "That's the spirit. Name's Fletcher by the way, but most folks call me Fetch. Thought you might like to know since we'll be stuck together from now on."

Fletcher pulls something from his shoulders as he approaches. A fuzzy blanket which he drapes around you as he lifts you off the cold ground. The bastard really has been watching you- Shuddering from the cold, you seek the warmth from his fur as you place your head to his chest - heart beat gone sporadic as you nestle your face deeper into the fluff. If you are to be stuck with him for now, it's better to play along than give away your true intentions so soon.

"Heh, let's get you home before you freeze out here. I'll make you something to eat and we'll get to know each other better before we start planning our special day."

That sounds.... pleasant. The food that is. You can't recall the last time you'd eaten. Hooking your arms around the rabbits neck, he carries you off in the direction of his home as the sleepy town you once terrorized wakes once more.

[mononijikayu]

immortal sukuna who — in your fourth life (1).

immortal sukuna masterlist

immortal sukuna doesn't remember how old he was, he thinks that he has lost count.

but immortal sukuna was aware that it had been two hundred years since he had met you. that's how he counts how old he was. he was born again when he met you.

it was two hundred years of living and losing for immortal sukuna, but just as much two hundred years of love, of endless devotion.

immortal sukuna had wandered the countryside for the past fifty years, his feet carrying him through lands he once ravaged.

immortal sukuna could not even remember all these places that now barely whispered his name.

but something different stirred in immortal sukuna this time, an unfamiliar weight that grew heavier with each passing year.

immortal sukuna had to be honest that he didn't expect to find you in this life just yet.

when immortal sukuna stumbled upon the scene, his bright red eyes immediately locked onto the sight of you, bound in chains.

he could feel himself shake in anguish, in vexation as immortal sukuna looked at your face bruised and your clothes torn.

immortal sukuna looked at your pathetic, useless waste of air captors as they barked orders at you.

it was a disgusting sight, an outrageous sight, a disgusting sight; immortal sukuna had nothing to describe how they were treating you like less than human.

and though your eyes remained closed, your movements were careful, as if navigating a world you could no longer see. immortal sukuna hated this.

immortal sukuna was shaking as he could feel his feet to rush, to hurry without any other thought.

something in immortal sukuna snapped. in a flash, the men were dead, their bodies left in ruin.

immortal sukuna stood over you, towering and terrifying, yet you showed no fear. not because you couldn't see him.

immortal sukuna's touch was warm on you, and that had allowed you to release the tension and the pain as you squeezed his hand.

you did not know immortal sukuna, you seem to forget in each and every life you meet him.

but something else lingered between you — a familiarity, an old connection buried beneath the years. immortal sukuna knew you felt it.

you felt tears fall from your closed eyes as you relaxed onto immortal sukuna's touch, who tenderly observed your cuts and bruises.

"who had made you in such a state?" he growled, sukuna's voice sharp, filled with barely contained rage. "are there more of them?"

you tilted your head slightly, your face turning toward the sound of sukuna's voice, though your eyes remained closed.

"i… don't know." you whispered back at sukuna, voice hoarse from pain and exhaustion. "i never saw their faces."

sukuna knelt closer beside you, his crimson eyes scanning your form from top to bottom.

sukuna began noticing the way your hands fumbled slightly, how you hesitated with every step, how your eyes, though closed, seemed so lost. so afraid.

to see you like this broke immortal sukuna's heart. you did not deserve to be like this. you were a goddess. one that deserved worship and yet....

"you're blind." sukuna stated, his voice low. his heart breaking over and over at the words he had just uttered.

you nodded slowly at sukuna, the chains rattling with your movements. "i have been for a long time."

immortal sukuna felt a strange pang in his chest. blind. how could fate be this cruel to you? you who had done nothing but good?

you had once seen the world, had once seen sukuna, but now you were trapped in darkness, enduring horrors you didn’t deserve. not ever.

immortal sukuna could feel as though he was feeling the rim of his eyes clog with tears. he can't help it. he grieves. he grieves for him, he grieves for you.

without a word, sukuna reached out and snapped the chains that bound you, the metal shattering like glass under his strength.

you stumbled slightly, not expecting the sudden freedom, and sukuna caught you with a gentle but firm hand.

"who are you?" you asked, your voice trembling, but there was a strange curiosity behind it.

"someone you knew, long ago." sukuna murmured, watching your expression carefully.

you didn’t recoil, didn’t pull away. even without sight, you seemed to sense something in sukuna — something familiar, something safe.

"thank you." you whispered, your voice barely audible. you reached out hesitantly, your hand searching for sukuna's own.

immortal sukuna without thinking, placed his own hand in yours, his large, rough fingers enveloping your smaller ones.

for the first time in fifty years, immortal sukuna felt something he hadn’t felt in centuries — purpose. life.

immortal sukuna didn’t know why he had come across you, didn’t understand why fate had brought him back to you after all this time.

but standing there, your hand in his, your body fragile yet unbroken, sukuna knew one thing for certain.

he would protect you, sukuna would make sure that you would live this life without worry. that you would always smile. even if you can't see him anymore.

and perhaps, just perhaps, you would heal the darkness in him, the same way immortal sukuna had just freed you from your own.

you both will always live happily together, no matter what. immortal sukuna would make sure of it.

even if he suffered over and over again, even if immortal sukuna lives in misery waiting and waiting, he does not care.

what is two hundred years passed, and mayhaps two hundred years more to the eternity of sukuna being in your arms for forever?

these little miseries were the map of sukuna's soul. to get back his soul. you. you who he had been waiting for all this time.

when you fell asleep from weariness in his arms, immortal sukuna lifted you and carried you carefully on his back.

"welcome home." sukuna whispered to you in the quiet, for the first time in fifty years.

[spicyvampire]

I was gonna make gifsets out of them but tbh idk if I'll ever have the time because it would be like 20+ gifs gifset but I have to say

Great and Tyme had the most complex character developments I've ever seen in a show

Great went from being extremely passive and selfish in the face of violence, e.i. letting Den's girlfriend to have a heart attack when he literally had a phone in his hand he could have call an ambulance and letting Manee die after hitting her and not stopping Title from killing Dome and letting his parents control him like a puppet while he self destruct alone, to genuinely trying to have a connection with Tyme even if Tyme was using him (it's not like he knew any better from anyone else around him all people do is use him: Title used him as accessory to murder, his parents use him for the family business, he is probably used to people using him for his family money and that's why he has like virtuallyno friends other than Title), to trying to save Nan but being paralyzed by fear, to confronting his parents about their illegal businesses when the news broke irl before even his 4MP, in the middle of all of that he was already become permeable to the idea that his parents and him weren't good people, he was having trouble sleeping & being alone because of that, and on top of that he had Tyme yelling some sens into him because he could not just stay in that state of passiveness, indecision and self destruction forever, his inaction hurt people, got them killed, got him shot

So in his 4MP he became braver, he saved Manee, he saved Dome, he helped save Nan, he help Tyme get at his parents for being assholes, because he never wished that none of it happened he just wished he had reacted better, and meanwhile he also experienced another thing he always wished he had which is someone who cared deeply about him, even if he barely knew Tyme, he knew that Tyme had that in him because of how Tyme treated him before during and after using him to get back at his dad, and to be honest it really didn't matter if Tyme didn't have it in him as long as he was brave and someone treated him right before he was gone forever

And when he came back from his 4MP, he knew he couldn't change and be as perfect as he was in his 4MP but he could better in the future, he can stop his parents before they came back and started that cycle of violence all over again because once again they were using him and putting him in danger for their own benefits and were focused on trying to get something they didn't even deserve back, he can make amends for what he had done before aka hit and run with Manee and his implication in Dome's death, he can take decisive actions even if they are hard and will affect him negatively because it's the right thing to do and because he isn't alone anymore, Tyme is there, Tyme knows everything, understands him and loves him anyway

Tyme on the other hand got completely changed by resentment when he found and read his mom diary, he became cold and uncaring towards everyone around him including his patients and his ex, he was so blinded by rage that he misinterpreted the contents of the diary, he used Great who had nothing to do with any of it other than being related to the person he thought was responsible for his parents' death, threatened the wrong people, couldn't save Nan after putting her in danger by involving her in his vendetta, lashed out on Great who was genuinely trying to be better & help but he could not see it because he was too angry, impulsively exposed the gambling dens out of anger, Great is in the hospital dying after he just used him and lashed out at him, he got his Grandma killed instead of giving justice to his parents he lost his last family member, and then got shot and his heart stop in irl

So in his 4MP he chose not to read the diary at all from the very start, he chose to be free of the resentment and anger of what was taken from him and what could have been, he will never be a singer but that's fine, he can learn to love being a doctor and learn to care about his patients, he can break up with Nutcha properly and have his grandma be with him, he can love Great and Great can love him and he can be happy with that

Tyme experienced the 2 complete extreme on the spectrum of Revenge and resentment, a world where he was blinded his vendetta and didn't see anything but it before he was shot and a world where he didn't touch that vendetta at all, and when he came back from his 4MP he realized that he didn't want to make those choices like that anymore, he didn't want to be only fuelled by revenge but he couldn't just live with 0 justice being served, especially not with Great being back next to him who is taking action to right his wrong doings, so he chose to still try and find justice but in a way that would honor his parents & his grandma, in a way that will allow him to feel the love that can be between Great and him, in a way that he would be happy with the life he has

So yeah, I think this show had a very interesting and complex way of showing characters developments that we have never seen before, and while it was extremely non-linear, the message of taking better decisions so you do not have only regrets on ur death bed was very clear, and I'm gonna be thinking about those characters for a while

[tmpestuous]

One Step at a Time

summary: when you get brutally injured on a mission with no way to contact anyone, bucky goes out to find you.

pairing: bucky x avenger!reader

word count: 4.5k

warnings: angst, slight protective!bucky, mentions of death and killing, mentions of torture, blood, injuries, trauma, injured!reader

a/n: here’s another avenger!reader one shot from the long list of ideas i have… i’m thinking of making them all connected so it’s the same reader from six days (: i promise my next fic won’t be so depressing i apologize

-

Trying to fight off the hand currently clasped over your mouth, you were only repeatedly unsuccessful. Steve hadn’t seen you get dragged off, turning around and panicking immediately.

You could hear his calls for your voice become increasingly faint as the men dragged you to a secluded room you assumed Steve wouldn’t be able to access. 

“What do you mean you don’t know where she is, Steve?” Bucky sat, still in his disheveled state from being woken up abruptly by Sam for an emergency meeting.

“Buck, wake up man,” Sam said, clasping Bucky’s shoulder lightly and shaking him a bit.

Opening his eyes reluctantly, Bucky wondered what could possibly be so important this early in the morning. He never got much sleep when you went on your missions, feeling the bed to be a little too empty and thus, leaving him lonely with his thoughts.

Looking at the clock, it read 4:17AM. 

Looking back at Sam, Bucky knew something wasn’t right. Sam’s usual, playful nature replaced with one that looked remorseful. 

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked hesitantly. “Everything okay?”

“It’s Y/n, Buck,” Sam responded, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. He looked nervous, almost as if it was his fault. “She’s missing. Steve wants to have a meeting with us.”

“What do you mean she’s missing?” Bucky said calmly, though he most certainly felt his heart drop from his chest.

Sam was just as distraught as Bucky in the meeting, bobbing his knee up and down in his seat. He had told you Steve was swapping with him for the mission, second guessing himself after taking it up in the first place. You were upset he wasn’t joining you, having been the only person you trusted enough to go on missions alone with besides Bucky since you recovered from the explosion. It made him feel guilty that it had resulted in your disappearance.

It had taken you a while to feel comfortable enough to start participating in any missions, and even when you did, you always made the effort to stay in the same room as someone else. You couldn’t bear to be alone again, more than just fearful to end up in another situation where you had no idea what to do with no immediate help. 

Plunging the knife into the chest of the last man, you exhaled a few shaky breaths. 

You had been fighting these men for what felt like hours. One of them had managed to stab you in the side while you weren’t looking, and to your eventual disadvantage, you pulled it out of your suit and used it to deal with about ten other men on your own.

Staring at the last man only pushed you to look at the vast amount of bodies around you, about twenty of them laying in pools of blood everywhere, most of which you barely recalled finishing off.

You had experienced your fair share of moments with blind rage before, most of which came from your time with Hydra. But you made the effort never to kill someone. A vow you made to yourself, which was now broken.

Choking on a sob you didn’t realize was coming, you stood up and placed pressure on your stab wound before searching through the room for medical supplies. It was clearly a doctor’s room, one that reminded you of the office you spent a lot of time in while captured by Hydra.

Finding a first aid kit, you did your best to stitch and patch the stab wound with so little supplies. Once you were finished, you put the jacket of your suit back on, knowing it was freezing outside and you had to find some sort of shelter.

If there were more men coming to the building, the last thing you wanted to do was try to fight more of them off in your current state. You had hoped Steve made it out, now doing everything you can to do the same for yourself.

Finding a nearby exit, you walked out into the cool air. 

It was gonna be a long walk.

Steve was still in his suit, dirt covering his face though it did nothing to mask his solemn expression. 

He wasn’t sure how the two of you got separated. He was keeping a close eye on you since the last time you were paired together, things went bad. Hell, you almost died. Steve was simply starting to think he gave you bad luck when you were around him.

“I– I’m not sure,” Steve choked out, and he wasn’t lying at all. “We had made it inside and were met with some resistance, but we didn’t split up. We got caught up fighting and when I had turned around, she was gone. I didn’t leave her, Buck, you have to believe me. I wouldn’t do that to her. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Bucky believed him, but he couldn’t help but overthink the fact that you’d been caught up in a bad place in the last two missions you’ve spent with Steve. It was his best friend and, of course, he knew he’d never have ill intentions with you. 

He just hoped you were okay.

“It’s okay, Steve,” he reassured. “We’ll find her. Don’t worry.”

God, you had hoped they’d somehow find you. 

You swore you’d been walking in circles for ten hours, searching for the safe house Tony had informed you and Steve was near where your mission was taking place. 

You were so tired. You had barely managed to fight off all of the maniacs who had tried to hold you captive in the old Hydra base you and Steve were assigned to get rid of. You recognized a few of them from your days in the organization, but it took you a lot longer to fight them on your own after getting stabbed in the side and a few hits to the head. 

You had never done any killing with Hydra, seeing as they never got you to commit to it, but something had triggered you to kill almost all of them. The only ones who didn’t reap such consequences were the ones who had ambushed you and Steve when you both had found an entrance into the building. 

You felt sick to your stomach because of it, along with all the energy being drained from you slowly but surely with every step you took towards nowhere at this point. You had lost your transponder somewhere in that god-forsaken building, so on top of losing Steve, it wasn’t like anyone back at the compound could track your location either.

Steve.

You assumed he’d started to look for you after you lost each other, but you had no idea if he was still in this general location. He might’ve stayed or gone back to the compound to tell the others you were missing.

It genuinely wasn’t his fault you got separated, and you’d only hoped he knew that. Someone who might not know that, on the other hand, is Bucky. You then hoped he wouldn’t give Steve a hard time, not wanting them to have any more tension than the last time you suffered while paired up with his best friend.

“She still has to go to the debrief, Bucky,” Steve pushed. “It’s been long enough and we’ve pushed past protocol longer than we ever have.”

“What if she doesn’t want to talk about it, Steve? We all went to debrief, why does she have to do it too?”

“She experienced what none of us did,” the blonde countered again. “No one knows what happened in that room but her. We need every detail.”

Reluctantly, Bucky gave in. But he regretted it the second things were rough in the meeting. 

“You have to remember, Y/n,” Steve tried to encourage you, but it wasn’t really working.

“I told you I never found where it came from, I’m not making that up,” you defended. 

“You said you didn’t remember if you found where it came from.”

“The last thing I remember was seeing one blink of a red light before the explosion. I don’t remember if it was actually the source or something else. I never found it, Steve,” you urged softly. 

Bucky was getting irritated. You hadn’t talked much to him about what happened because you hated how you felt afterwards, and now you were sitting here getting interrogated by Steve who hadn’t been there every step of your recovery.

“Y/n–”

“I think that’s enough, Steve,” Bucky said before grabbing your hand and standing up. “We’re done here.”

Your recollection of the memory was short-lived when you felt your suit starting to feel a lot wetter than before, peeking down to see it staining with fresh blood which means your wound had reopened. Limping towards what looked like an empty house, seeming freshly abandoned, you winced at the pain in your side. Walking up to the front door, you quickly jammed it in, glad to feel warmth in contrast to the cold air from outside.

Looking around to see if anyone was inside, you found yourself alone. Settling on a first aid kit from the bathroom, you plopped yourself on the couch and ripped the jacket of your suit off, almost peeling it with the dried blood making it stick to your skin a bit. 

You did your best to restitch and patch the stab wound, but you knew you’d certainly have to redo it in a few hours. You could feel yourself getting lightheaded, likely from the loss of blood and lack of nourishment. Trying your best to stay awake didn’t work as well as you hoped, but you held on for as long as you could.

Back at the compound, Bucky was packing everything he possibly needed. He didn’t know how long it was gonna take to find you, but he sure as hell knew he wouldn’t stop searching until he did. He had told Steve it was best for him to stay for this one, knowing he was feeling the guilt of having you go lost in the first place. 

Bucky heard a knock at his door, turning around to see Sam in his doorway.

“Ready to go?” he asked, seeing Bucky zip his bags. 

“Let’s find her.”

It had been less than five hours since Steve had broken the news that he lost you. First, he told Bucky and Sam, knowing it’d be of most importance to them. Then the rest of the team had joined in on the meeting, immediately making plans on how to find her. 

Sam, Natasha, Tony, Bruce, Clint, and Thor had agreed to go with Bucky to help find you. Bucky had no problem going on his own, but Natasha assured that it’d be best for everyone to join in. They attributed your last known location to the last signal your transponder gave off, and thus decided to start there.

Steve waved them off as they left on the jet, but everyone was aware he’d be tracking from back at the compound. 

Upon making it to the location of your mission and where they knew you had been at some point, they found your (now dead) transponder in the middle of a pool of blood. There were bodies everywhere, and Bucky had only grown anxious. 

You had never enjoyed getting unnecessarily violent, and in that, you always reminded him of himself. He was aware Hydra hadn’t toyed with your head nearly to the extent they did with him, but it was enough to do some damage. 

You’d confided in him with all of your stories, never going into extreme detail out of compassion for his own experiences and not wanting to trigger him into those thoughts. However, he knew that you’d never killed anyone. Beaten some people beyond a general healing point, definitely, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take a life. Hydra had their fair share of punishments for you because of that but it hadn’t broken you to the point of reaching that point.

Seeing all the dead bodies scattered across the room, there had to be about twenty of them. Bucky didn’t want to admit it, but it undoubtedly scared him. If you were in that much trouble to cause such damage, he was worried about what state he’d find you in. 

Seeing everyone make their way out of the room, Bucky shook the negative thoughts from his head. He didn’t want to distract himself from his priority: finding you, regardless of what state you’d be in.

“If she’s injured, she couldn’t have made it far,” Natasha stated, staring around at the outside of the building from an open window. “She might still be around here somewhere, maybe hid–”

Lights from a series of vehicles appeared outside. About four dozen Hydra men made their way towards the entrance of the building, murmuring about how they needed to find you before the Avengers did. 

“We’ve got company, boys,” Natasha stated instead of finishing her previous thought. 

Bucky made his way to the window, seeing that horrid insignia his memory would never let him forget. “Hydra. There’s more of them still around than I thought.”

“Cut a head off, two more take its place, huh?” Natasha recalled the organization’s motto. “We need to do this quickly, we don’t know how much time Y/n’s got and we still don’t know where she is–”

“Go,” Bucky said. “Go find her, I’ll handle them.”

“Buck, is that really the best ch–” Sam started.

“I said, go.”

“I’m sticking with you, everyone else can go.”

Bucky sighed before nodding in agreement. Natasha made her way out with Tony, Thor, and Clint, finding a back entrance. Bruce was still in the jet, tracking nearby buildings you could possibly be in. Thor, Natasha, and Clint decided to split up and search each one, Tony trying to find heat signatures that could somehow match yours.

Bucky and Sam made their way to the ground floor, watching all of the men surge in. Bucky loaded his rifle, Sam releasing Redwing to count how many men there were.

“There’s 40 of them,” Sam whispered loud enough for only Bucky to hear him.

“20 for each of us, huh?” Bucky adjusted his hold on his rifle from around the corner of the hallway. “If Y/n can do it, so can we.” Feeling a boost in confidence, Bucky started to make his move, knocking out a few men right away as Sam did the same. 

He knew he couldn’t let anyone get to you before anyone from the team did, even if it meant letting the others go ahead of him. He felt a lot more calculated than he usually did, knowing your life (or death) was in the gamble of the entire operation. 

You, on the other hand, were about to give up. Staying awake has never been this difficult, but with your pulse going faster by the second and the sudden chills you were feeling, you had a feeling this was it. 

Your wound hadn’t opened at all in the last two hours, but you attributed it to pure luck at this point. The way you were feeling could only be coming from the gaping hole on the side of your torso, even covered. 

You still tried your best to keep your eyes open, knowing you weren’t going to let yourself die cold and alone in the middle of nowhere. You felt awful, a few tears shedding from your eyes from how sick you were starting to feel. You wanted to sleep, but you were scared to go under and then not wake up.

Not to mention, you couldn’t sleep knowing the nightmares that were inevitably going to come. Feeling physically awful was one thing, but watching all those lifeless bodies fall to the floor after you killed them only made you feel worse. You couldn’t get the memory out of your head, only sobbing slightly to yourself thinking about it.

The thought that lingered even more in your head was how you were gonna tell Bucky. He knew you’d never resort to such drastic measures and you were afraid he’d look at you different once he found out. 

If he even found you alive at this point.

The team had searched about 40 houses in the last two hours, eventually teaming up with Bucky and Sam who had dealt with all forty men in the span of half an hour. They even checked the safe house in case you had made it and passed out before communicating with them, but you weren’t there either. 

“There’s only one house left on this entire street,” Bruce spoke through comms. 

Bucky’s anxiety was only going sky high with every second they hadn’t found you yet. They had no idea what your condition was like and he was doing his best not to think of the worst possible scenario. He’d hoped the tricks he taught you while on missions with him had helped somewhat, like knowing how to stitch a wound or finding a safe place from danger.

Bucky’s racing mind was interrupted by Tony’s voice on comms; he had gone to check the house and determine if there was anyone inside.

“Heat signature matches Y/l/n’s, and it’s not looking too good,” he said as he landed back on the ground.

The team rushed over, Bucky running faster than he’d ever run before. Opening the door in a rush, he saw you laying on the couch, taking staggered breaths with your eyes closed. Everyone had walked in behind him, Natasha alerting Bruce that they had found you and telling him to prep the jet. 

Bucky’s only focus was you. He placed his hands on your cheek, startling you enough to push him back before your eyes landed on him.

“Bucky?” you said, definitely not believing your eyes as you looked around and saw everyone else in the room.

Bucky approached you again slowly, not wanting to scare you further since you were probably in shock.

“Hey, baby, it’s me,” he assured you as you stared him down frantically before you started to sob. “We came to take you home, alright? We’re going home.”

As the jet landed outside, Bucky picked you up in his arms. You instinctively curled up against him, hiding your cold face in the warmth of the crook of his neck. After everyone boarded, the jet made its way back to the compound. 

Bucky had looked at your wound, replacing the dirty gauze for a clean one. You’d cried almost the entire ride, all of your emotions rushing in like a freight train. 

It hurt Bucky to see you in such a state, knowing you were tired of all the losses in life. He knew exactly how it felt, but he’d also felt you deserved it much less than he did all those years. You didn’t kill anyone like he did, you didn’t ruin anyone’s life like he did, you didn’t make people scared of you. He tried to shake those thoughts from his head, knowing you’d scold him again for thinking so low of himself in comparison to you.

Running his hands through your hair, he stayed next to you the entire time, reassuring you that you were safe and soothing you as best as he could. 

Once you all had arrived to the compound, it only got worse. 

A gurney was waiting for you on the landing pad, which you didn’t want to be laid on, to begin with. Once they had strapped you down, your cries only got worse, screaming Bucky’s name out as they took you to the medical bay. Bucky wanted to follow, but Sam stopped him, saying it was best to do the debrief right away. 

You refused to let anyone touch you unless Bucky was there, and the doctors in the medical bay were getting so frustrated, the only choice they had was to sedate you in the meantime. When they had finally patched up your wound properly, they left you to rest.

Rest was very much not in your cards, however, with your crying fits continuing and Bucky’s hearts breaking into about a million more pieces than before when he walked into your room to see you crying to yourself. 

“Y/n…” he spoke softly, sliding into the bed with you carefully and pulling you into his arms, cautious enough not to hurt you further. Kissing the top of your head multiple times, he rubbed your arms up and down until your cries eventually stopped. 

“Y-you’re gonna hate me, Bucky,” you said with a shaky voice. “I don’t want you to hate me when you find out what I did.”

“Baby, what are you talking about?” he looked down at you, but Bucky was well aware what you were thinking of. “I could never hate you. Ever. Not after everything we’ve been through together, okay? Don’t ever say something like that.”

Bucky heard you sniffle and saw a few tears fall down your cheeks, heart aching at the fact that you might start sobbing again. You slowly wrapped your arms around him, hiding your face from him in his chest.

The following days were still rough. Bucky felt lucky enough that you’d have your meals with him, but you didn’t feel like leaving your room. Steve had checked in with you and said you wouldn’t have to update anyone on what happened after you got separated. Not until you were ready to talk about it.

Bucky stayed with you more often, even after you pleaded with him to not tear up his schedule for you. He skipped out on a mission just so he could stay with you, which he assured you was okay because it meant his next mission would be with you. 

The only way you got him to go back to his routine was to offer to train with him. He had asked you a million times if you were sure, knowing what most likely occurred back on your mission’s complication. Eventually, he gave in as he always did, but he knew he wasn’t going to rush you into anything.

Picking up your normal tools for your usual, more-intense sparring sessions you always had with Bucky, your hands started to shake. Bucky noticed and rubbed your shoulders smoothly.

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for,” he whispered lowly in your ear. “Just take it one step at a time, okay?”

You nodded up at him, putting your tools down. You thought it’d help to move slow, but the second you knocked Bucky down, you kneeled down next to him, anxiously asking if he was okay with tears in your eyes.

Bucky looked up at you quizzically, knowing you knew in the back of your mind somewhere that you couldn’t hurt him detrimentally from a normal sparring session. 

He wiped your tears away as you stared at him with fear in your eyes, only making him feel even worse about you experiencing what you had experienced alone. 

“Baby, hey,” he said as you shut your eyes and cried. “Look at me.”

Blinking a few times, you sniffled and looked down at him, completely uncaring of your tears that had fallen on his shirt. 

“You could never hurt me, my love,” he rubbed your cheeks with his calloused thumbs, though it was the comfort you surely needed. “The only way you could hurt me is by breaking my heart and I know that’s not gonna happen anytime soon, right?”

You shook your head.

“Then don’t worry so much, baby,” he leaned up and kissed your lips softly. “I’m more than okay. You were just better than me. Let’s go shower and watch a movie.”

Standing up and lifting you up with a helping hand, you both walked back to Bucky’s room which was the closest. Stepping into the bathroom, Bucky let the water run from the showerhead so it could get warm. You stripped yourself of your clothes as he did the same, before getting into the shower. 

After cleansing yourselves, Bucky rubbed your tense shoulders once again as you leaned into him.

“I killed them,” you muffled into his chest.

“Hm?” Bucky questioned, not quite hearing you over the running water and with your face down. Lifting your chin up to look at him, your eyes were puffy and red from all the crying you’d done all day. “You don’t have to talk about anything, Y/n. Okay? We can talk about it some other time.

Shaking your head, you sighed in faltered breaths. “I killed them, Bucky.”

Bucky looked at you with sorrow. He didn’t know how to tell you that he already knew, he didn’t even know if it was the right thing to tell you. All he did was brush your tears away and kiss your forehead, nose, then lips. 

“You need to relax a bit, baby, okay?” he spoke in a soft tone. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

Staring up at him in confusion, you shook your head again.

“You know already,” you confirmed to yourself, knowing Bucky too well to know he would usually ask if you wanted to talk further about something before putting it to bed. “You know I killed all those people.”

Bucky sighed, staring into your eyes before closing his and nodding slightly. “I do.”

“And you don’t look at me differently?” you asked, your voice a lot more calm and collected now. “I broke my promise, I didn’t even show them any mercy, Bucky—”

“Do you look at me differently knowing all the people I killed?” he interrupted, placing his flesh hand on your cheek and rubbing it slightly with his thumb. “You don’t, you never have. You knew who I was when you first got here and never looked at me differently. Why would I do that to you?”

“That’s different,” you countered. “You had no idea what you were doing, Bucky. I did.”

“You were defending yourself,” he retaliated, doing his best not to downplay your feelings. “If you hadn’t killed them, who knows what they would have done to you? It’s Hydra, they don’t care who they hurt or how they do it. If I were you, I would have done the same thing.”

He was right and you knew it. You laid your head back on his chest, scared to look him in the eye.

“I didn’t want you to look at me like I was broken,” you admitted. “I don’t know who I was when all of that happened and I just— it felt like I was trying to escape them all over again and I’ve never experienced that before. I was scared.”

“And that’s okay,” Bucky reassured you the same way he always had, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “You’re not broken, you’re just healing. There’s nothing wrong with that, baby.”

You sniffled again before leaning into him more. “Can you just hold me for now?”

Bucky kissed your head again, squeezing his arms around you in all the warmth he could possibly transfer.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

—

I promise this is the last of my desire to write angst with injuring the reader… thank you for reading!

tags: @jessybarnes

[romaevelizz]

Fruits

Aemond Targaryen x blk!cousin!reader

Sum: He wasn’t the same person she remembered how could he do that to her

warnings: death, cursing, child loss, angst, hurt comfort. Not proofread

p.2 of my little love

“You can’t just storm Dragon stone!” Aemond told her watching as his wife readied in her riding clothes. The dark fabrics coving her as her handmaidens tightend her clothes.

The princess had only been abed for two days she was in no condition to go hunt her father. By all means did Aemond himself not want Deamon Targaryen dead, but it couldn’t happen now. even he knew that. But he saw her eyes, the once kind eyes he craved admiration from, they were dark. They were dead, angry. His foot steps heavy as he walked up behind her him shooing the maids, his own hands holding her corset ties. His eye met here through the mirror, “I’m going with.” He spoke.

“I will not have my wife who’s still healing herself go and die because of her lack of mind.”

She only scoffed “Our daughter, our Unborn daughter is dead and all you can think about is me in the wrong state of mind? Right shame on me.” She spoke her words filled with venom.

Turning around she faced him his hands quickly held her shoulders “ Because you are here, you’re all I have left. Apologizes tis you finding selfish of me to not want you to die, they only women I’ll love the only women who’s looks at me like I’m not some endless burden or disappointment. You tis always been you that’s had faith in me.” He spoke his voice becoming shaken.

Her brows frowned under his touch they way he shakes softly. she was filled with rage and now it was staring to spill out on him, her husband. Her mouth opened slightly to say something but she didn’t. Her hand held his face, Aemond melting under her as she did. Her eyes meeting his, a million words could be said with the way they looked upon one another. He was grieving to but she had been blinded by her own, her own rage to even think to comfort him.

His head fell onto her shoulder a quiet sob leaving Aemonds lips as he held her still. “I’m sorry dear wife, I couldn’t protect you or our children, what kind of man..- what kind of Husband does that make of me. I’m so sorry my sweet girl..” The Old Valyrian spilling of his tongue as He weeped quietly into her shoulder.

Her hand trembled has the tangled in his hair holding his close as he consumed her in his arms her soft hushes soothing him gently, “Tis not your fault..”

She pulled his face back her handholding him carefully “But this is something I can only do, they see you or Vhagar you’ll be killed immediately. My father is a week man tis why those men did a job he couldn’t stomach. My father is deemed to have no fears but it’s me, well my mother. And if there’s something he’s always reminded me that I’m just as her.” The Princess spoke holding her husbands face.

He wouldn’t kill her.

He couldn’t kill her.. he was a coward..

Climbing upon cannibal the Large dragon letting out a hyena like giggle, he knew what is to come, he’d be eating today. His menacing giggles caused his whole body to shutter. He could feel her grief her anger. He knew what he was to do. But he’d only do if told perhaps he’d be eating more than once today. Cannibal knew they were going out to kill, for the little princess was now dead, he could feel Y/ns heart break that night the pain she went through, mercy to the pit keepers. The princess let her hand touch his dark scales taking a deep breath “Shall the gods have pitty on them my sweet boy, but not even the gods can save Deamon Targaryen.” She finished patting him letting him know to take off.

His wings thumped like thunder as they enters they skies. Y/ns mind becoming clouded with memories as she closed her eyes, the birth of her child. How her daughter would cling on to Aemond the small child sharing the Targaryen features but her skin dark as hers. How her small giggles echoed through the halls as she played with her cousins, the throaty laughes as Her and Aemond kissed on her. How gentle both their dragons where with the little princess, Cannibal nugging her causing her to fall back only for the lady of dragons herself to grumble at the old man. But none the less did she laugh always a bright bright girl. A girls who light was cut to soon form this world. Her eyes slowly opened, Cannibal glancing back at her his green eyes telling her that this will be done. 

She wanted her arrival to be known as by gods it was, Cannibals scream shaking the whole castle.

“The Hell was that?” Jace spoke his eyes wide.

Rhaenyras eyes looked up lazily at her son but quickly shifted to her husband. “She’s here.”

“Who’s here” Baela spoke looking up at her.

“Your sister.” Rhaenys spook smiling as her granddaughter.

Rhaenyra knew what had happen. Only her, her husband didn’t know that he had killed his granddaughter but soon he will. She knew Y/n was here to kill him and she’d had enough to say to try to persuade her not to but never did she think she wouldn’t to stop her. “Let her in with a warm welcome.” Perhaps she’d make an example.

The smile that lingers on Daemon’s face would fall immediately as he went to greet his eldest daughter, her face tierd and dark. And as soon as she pulled that blade. The guards will go to stop her only for Rhaenyra to tell them to stop. “Angle what is the meaning of this.” Deamon said as she held the dagger to his throat.

“Those men you sent.” She said.

Daemon eyes widened, no.

“Men he sent Grandaughter what are you talking about?” Rhaenys spoke trying to pray the life away fro. daemons neck.

“The men he sent to kill my daughter. A son for a son, but there was no son so a daughter shall do they said just as they slit her throat open.” Y/n said her words breaking as she dug the dagger deeper into Deamons throat.

Rhaenys, no everyone went quiet. The silence in the room only the soft cried of the princess could be heard. Soon as scream of a dragon, no just one Caraxes, the poor thing being torn apart by Cannibal shame the loss of a dragon had to be noticed but shame on her to leave something he loved so dearly something so devoted to him alive.

Rhaenyra spoke up quickly “There’s no need to have your beast feed on the dragons!”

“He’ll eat his fill, besides my grandmothers and Sisters dragons any dragon in the pit that challenges him will be devoured if he wishes. Tis rude not to feast and a reunion,no your grace?” The princess said cutting Rhaenyra off.

The quick voices of the boys and guards as they told there other to just kill her. That there is more of them than her. “The Devil has entered your house my queen yet you let her hunt and tarnish is as she’s her she’s unwelcome.” Ser Erryk spoke up.

“What your tongue” Daemon quick to shot the guard down. Even now in this moment he seeks to protect his daughter, the same one that holds a knife to his throat.

A fast hit to the face caused the Prince to fall down. Daemon held his face never lifting it to look her in the eye “be great full they’re my sisters, or I’d take a daughter from you, secretly I hope they killed me just to watch a movie over my body as your wife told you what you did. Because your a coward, who kills babes.” She spoke in a hushed tone the floors of the castle shaking could be fell under their feet cannibals eating he was getting his fill, even through the quiet halls of the DragonStone castle they could hear his giggles the menacing giggles from Cannibal as he feasted on Caraxes.

“I’m sorry my Angel, kill me.” He spoke the undertone of begging could be herd.

No he didn’t get to beg to be killed. She grit her teeth as she clenched her fist, falling to her father she hit him over and over. Just as he taught her putting every punch into her body. “You killed her and yet you beg of me to kill you, as I stood there dagger to my face begging for her daughters life!” She screamed. Now both her hand ps came of her head fist closed as the continued, blood from her father now on her hands. The muffled screams around her being blurred by her own “How dare you!”

“Not only did you take My living child from me but my unborn!” She cried, Daemonds blood now splattering on her face, her cheats heavy. Her body would soon give out on her.

Her chest raising and lowering quickly as she grabbed his collar pulling him up slamming his body back into the stone under him “How fucking dare you,” she cried. she couldn’t hear what her father was saying nothing but plebes of how sorry he was that it want ment to turn out like this. He didn’t fight back, he didn’t want to he hoped he’d kill her. He knew she wasn’t listing to his pleas of forgiveness becaus it was damming of him to think that she ever could.

But oh his sweet girl, his first born how he’s hurt her. he’s never dream of it yet he did how could he. how dare he make her cry like this.

“Your pathetic, truly and pathetic boy.” She hissed her face close to her fathers bloody one. He only muttered unheard to her.

“Speak up you son ova bitch!” She screamed.

“I know my sweet Angel,” he coughed.

She should’ve slit this throat right. But that’s just as he wanted.

“I hope the image of my mother in me hunts you, I hope she haunts you and well as your granddaughter, I hope they both hate you. Gods know mother would.” She whispered her words dark and full of hate.

Daemon only nodded, once more she slammed his head into the stone under him before getting up.

Y/n didn’t look up but she felt her grandmothers hands offering g a comforting touch she didn’t deny “I spared your husband, I trust you’ll do the same only the death of my daughter was no accident as Lucerys death was. For dragons got out of hand and Shame on my husband for letting his anger get the best of him, but your sons continued and continued to push, and dragons we thought of challenged against one another when your sons blew fire into Vhagrs face. Be thank full I don’t take Aegons life as a life of my unborn was takes as well.” She spoke t words Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra holding her son close to her.

Y/n looked up as her their eyes locking “ My the Gods be with you all in this war, My Queen.”

Looking away she kissed her grandmothers face moving past to her sisters, her bloody hand holding there faces and she kissed their foreheads “ I love you, you know how to get to me.” She whispered to the twins.

With that she lefts, and lucky them Cannibal only ate Caraxes. Cannibal looked up his large tail wagging like a dog as she walked in the devilish giggles as he stood up.

“Hmmm did you eat well pretty boy? Yes? Good now we must return to my husband, and your old lady, let’s go.”

“My lady are you all right? You’re covered in blood..” One of the maidens spoke her voice nervous.

She hummed “Ready me a bath, let my husband know I’m home and I seek his presents.” She spoke taking of her gloves her voice stale.

With a quick nod the did just that, soon she’d meet her two guards “Princess. Did you.”

“No, be begged to be killed so I kept him alive to let this hunt him forever, not even in death will he escaped this curse.” She spoke continuing to walk the two men following behind her and she loosened her clothes.

“You plan do undress in the halls m’ lady.” Maliki asks a small chuckle behind his words.

“Have some respect.” Khalil hit him.

The twins bickering always brought a smile to her face. “Stand by let Aemond in when he arrives.” She spoke softly entering her bed chambers.

“Yes princess.”

She looked at herself in the mirror the blood that covered her hands and face was gross, pealing the leather of her riding clothes of was uncomfortable to say the least she was exhausted. Allshe wanted us to touch of her husband, his large gentle hands holding her body close. That’s all she asked for. “ my lady your crying..” a handmaiden spoke gently.

“Ah tis nothing Marcie..” she said, the sound of her doors opening caused her to wipe your tears quickly her body turning towards the door.

“It’s prince Aemond my Princess.”

“Your all dismissed,” Aemonds eyes watched her shoo her ladies away.

He didn’t say anything not with words any how. His gaze offered a gentle look to her ”I didn’t,” Aemonds brows frowned “ahh! no don’t look at me with pitty.” She hissed.

“I didn’t kill him because he asked me to kill him, I’m making him love with this pain…” she said looking at her husband “you should’ve seen how he weeped..”

Aemond nodded “turn.” She did as told.

Aemond was gentle as he took her clothes off “You did good my dear.” He mumbled lips kissing her warm skin. His hands grazing her body.

“Join me” she whispered turning. Her body bare as she presented herself to him. Maybe it was the blood on her body that mad him so… eager to join her. His body swiftly moving behind her as her pulled her against him.

Aemonds lips kissed on her shoulders his hands touching her as they pleased, them holding her breast gently holding them with care as she hummed small moans. One would think he was trying to breed her again, no not he just wanted to cherish his sweet girl, to touch her as she liked. Selfish to think of was for his pleasure, his hands massaged out her aching body. “Let me take care of you.”

His arms wrapped around her tightly pulling her against him he could feel her body shutter against him and she started to cry. He started to cry as well “All is done…”

“We have a war to finish, May tho gods be in our favor dear husband.”

“Well will start again,but non shall be replaced.” She finished.

[pochaccopipi]

Thoughts on Kuya, autonomy, and his refusal to be "captured"

(spoilers under the cut)

This SSR story is sooo good because it really fleshes out Kuya's all-encompassing hatred of being owned? Not just in a literal sense, but in an obligations/expectations kind of way too. He repeatedly states over the course of the game that he shouldn't be forced into a box, can't be defined by human morals, and has so many wildly different facets of himself that they're basically autonomous copies running around in alternate timelines.

He insists that Elysium allows visitors the right to choose if/how they participate. He seems to hate injustices that trample one's freedom (unless he's the one perpetuating said injustice— in which he considers his actions Wise And Necessary™️). He loathes being claimed as a prize. He also clearly hates being pandered to, especially when his suitors have ulterior motives and expect him to stay by their side forever. He hates when humans assume what he likes, and commit crimes against nature in order to please him. He spent centuries at Huey's side (literally indentured to him in a life-or-death contract), and even spent time in service to the lord of the yokai himself, who forced kuya back into his fox state when he was found during a suicide attempt. He was literally voided of essence to the point that he had to relive his most vulnerable years again. He experienced a loss of power and autonomy that probably felt like a betrayal. Granted it was a punishment intended to teach him humility, but it probably just traumatized him instead.

(This may also explain what happened on the Saian ship with Huey, when he was discovered in his true yokai form— something went wrong with corrupted essence, they couldnt teleport back to Klein as usual, and he burned the ship down when someone spotted him looking "beastly". It hit too close to home for him.)

Prior to meeting Eiden, he'd run out of things to enjoy in life, and turned to torturing small forest animals just to get some dopamine flowing again. He's a sadistic contrarian piece of shit but it makes sense that he feels rage against immortality/life itself, and probably approved of Huey because they shared an interest in exploring new horizons (not to mention the massive power boost he got in return).

So in this SSR r5 when he pauses in relief/shock after eiden tells him he cant force kuya to stay by his side forever, it all kind of clicked into place for me? Everything about kuyas character screams Do Not Attempt To Capture Me. He literally exploded a roomful of men who tied him down in Rusted Nation. He made a group of gamblers claw their own eyes out for daring to look at him with sexual intent. He even destroys offerings from other yokai who put him on a pedestal. He hates being expected to do anything for anyone for any reason, because those expectations often come with gross connotations or lasting debts, and have been repeatedly imposed upon him without his consent in the past.

His biggest fear might literally be losing control again.

(Of course he's a big hypocrite and does everything he hates to other people? And sometimes doesn't even realize he's doing it? Like in Astral Duo when he asks Quincy if he's done "something unforgivable" to Eiden, as if Kuya himself doesn't do unforgivable things on a daily basis).

Idk. He's just fascinating to me and I love how he seems to be driven by a pathological need to escape. He's not unaware of his weaknesses, as evidenced by him flinching when Eiden reaches behind his blind spot. He seems to be terrified of capture in every sense of the word, and does everything possible to overcome that.

Like a cornered animal :)

[sera8273]

“Say something!” Eurylochus yelled out.

“Say something?” Odysseus deadly whispered, his voice cold and devoid of any emotions. Eurylochus flinched harshly at the change. “Say something?” He spoke once more, more slower, more louder. His anger rising out with every breath he took.

Without warning, Odysseus ran over to Eurylochus, who fell on his bottom out of shock, grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and screamed out all his pent up anger.

“What in the gods name do you want me to say!? Your pissed with me for willingly sacrificing six of my men so we- no, so that I could get home quicker while you killed 557 of my men all because you wanted to open the Windbag that I specifically said not to open and had to stay up for nine days STRAIGHT!?” He all but spat in his second In command face.

Eurylochus couldn’t find his voice. He couldn’t even move from the absolute pure fear he felt. But Perimedes, who was watching the whole thing with the rest of the crew, suddenly found his.

“We wouldn’t even be in this mess if you didn’t give that cyclops your name!” He screamed “It would’ve been better if you had just killed it!”

Odysseus snapped his neck towards Perimedes who flinched, after a while he dropped Eurylochus on the floor leaving him gasping and clutching his chest while looking at Ody with fear as he walked toward the man moving backwards from him.

And perimedes, and the whole crew, could only think one thing in common.

They’re gonna die

They’re gonna die

They’re gonna fucking dies from their captain

They’re gonna fucking die because of their dumbass move-

“So you’re telling me that Killing the Cyclops, Polyphemus, who is Posiden, the god of the literal water, would’ve been the right choice?” Their captain coldly asks. Devoid of any emotions.

“I…yes?” Perimedes asked meekly.

Ody inhaled and exhaled very slowly before yelling in the poor man’s ear: “The only fucking reason he’s on my ass is simply because I blinded him and stole his sons sheep! That’s it! He’s targeting me because I was the reason that his son is blind! What in gods name would you think would happen if I killed him!?”

Perimedes back away and falls backwards. Quietly adding: “N-nothing-“

“Absolutely fucking nothing! Maybe he would’ve prolonged my torture by torturing you guys, sure. But it would’ve been the same damit!”

“Y-you could’ve not told the cyclops your name-“

“Ah yes! Because when Posiden gathers the news that someone drugged, stole and blinded his son and calls himself nobody from Hermes he obviously wouldn’t immediately go to the 12 ships, which I remind you, are the only fucking ships in the whole damn ocean and who suddenly have a suspicious amount of sheep on board!” Ody was practically foaming at the mouth when he was done.

No one moved. No one dared to try and talk to him in this raged manic state.

After a while (minutes? Seconds? Days?) Ody- their captain finally calmed down enough for the light in his eyes to return, and with a smile on his face he says: “What are you all waiting for?” Suddenly, it’s all gone. “Row fast.”

“Yes sir!” “Yes Captain!” “Got it!” “Yup!” “Sir Yes Sir!” “I I Captain!”

[kittencomicslol]

Awake at night again unable to sleep. Decided to write another snuggle/comfort fic with Gyutaro but this time w demon Gyutaro!! Hooray :3

No TW’s, it’s literally just more tooth rotting fluff. It’s a little short but it’s nice. Did my best to spell check this one too but Y’know I was sleepy so if there’s any errors just lmk >_<

With a small little huff, Gyutaro laid down next to you on the bed. It had been a rather long day… Daki handled a Hashira rather immaturely. Though everything ended up fine after Gyutaro came quickly to defend her, and their secretive location didn’t get it out, it was still upsetting for Gyutaro. He tried to explain to Daki that she needed to be more careful about dealing with high ranking slayers and per usual, Daki got upset and whined about how he needed to let her be ‘more independent’.

Gyutaro didn’t try to push much since the last thing he would ever wanna do is upset his dear little sister, but he was still rightfully annoyed after their fight.

“Hey..”

You spoke out softly, your voice ringing in his ears in a way he could only describe as comforting. Somehow, your presence was always able to help him calm down even when in a fit of blind rage, and oh how he loved you so for it.

Gyutaro was still upset, and since he didn’t know how to properly handle or express his feelings he just let out an angry huff as he kept his back turned to you. Fortunately for him you knew him well enough to understand what was going on and how to help.

You weren’t pushy, and you didn’t ask him a bunch of questions or berate him. You simply scooted closer, gently wrapping your arms around his thin body and resting your head against his back. Gyutaros heart ached.

He loved how sweet you always were with him, how you handled him so gently as if he were the most precious thing in the world. He loved you dearly and if there was one thing he didn’t want, it was for you to be uncomfortable. He hated being the little spoon when you cuddled or having you up against his back. He knew his body wasn’t perfect.. he didn’t exactly mind. He was proud of his ugliness and how much of a monster he was, but he still knew that it would be less appealing to touch. He knew you claimed it was fine but he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable due to his weird protruding bony spine or hips.

He grumbled slightly, flipping over and gently pulling you against his chest. He made sure to not bring you too close though, out of fear his ribs might make you uncomfortable. But you didn’t seem to mind all that much when you gladly snuggled yourself up against him, resting your head against his weird skinny chest.

Gyutaro didn’t think he would ever fully comprehend how or why you were so comfortable with his deformed hideous body.. but it’s not like he was upset at you for it. If anything, he was impressed and thankful that someone could actually love him. He had grown up accepting the fact he would always be alone and became content with making Daki his top priority.. but then you came along.

Gyutaro grumbled, nothing coherent or of meaning; just a habit he had when thinking about something or having overwhelming feelings. He wanted to scratch himself since even thinking about the fact you loved him overwhelmed his senses.. but he didn’t. He wanted to keep you safe and comfortable, and right now that consisted of holding you close.

“It’s nice to see you, Gyutaro.. seems like you had a long day, hm?..”

Your voice was something he would never get used to either. But that wasn’t a bad thing at all, because he would never get tired of how soothing it was. He huffed in an upset manner and nodded slightly, seeming to be in a frustrated almost nonverbal state.

He was glad you never pushed when he was upset, because even if he knew he wouldn’t ever lash out or harm you because he loves you too much, he still got frustrated from questions when he was upset. He always found them so hard to answer when he was overwhelmed which only always caused a spiral into more anger.

A content sigh escaped the demon's lips as he felt your hand gently run along his back in a tender manner, selfishly indulging into all of the pampering you gave him despite his knowledge he did not deserve such love. It was only natural after all.

“Well, don’t worry.. we don’t have anything to do at all tonight… we can just relax.. sounds good?”

Simple yes or no questions were always better in moderation during such situations, especially if it was context to help him settle down. Gyutaro let out a grunt and nodded again, giving you a slight squeeze while keeping you held close.

You couldn’t help but smile, grateful he was trusting enough of you to confide in your comforts when he felt vulnerable. Hell, he didn’t even do this sort of thing with Daki.. he didn’t want her to think he was weak or unfit to protect her. Besides, Gyutaro knew very well she was just too young and immature to properly understand or handle his complex feelings. Gyutaro still loved Daki dearly and allowed her to confide in him when she was upset, but he never wanted to stress her. He only ever wanted the best for her, willing to overwork and stress himself to the bone just to make sure she didn’t have to raise a finger.

He was able to find solace in calmer moments, and was always able to push through even if he was ticked off and overwhelmed after extensive work. Your help was also another thing that helped keep him more stable.

Every time you helped him calm down or showed him love, Gyutaro seemed to understand why Daki enjoyed him helping her so much.

No wonder Daki confided in his assistance if being tended to and pampered felt this good.

“M’ proud of you, Gyu.. always working so hard.. you’re such a sweet man, you know that?”

Your voice cooed, causing his stomach to do flips from the simple words of praise that acknowledged his hard work. The words ‘sweet man’ were definitely not fitting for him in any other circumstances or around anyone else, and he knew that he wasn’t sweet. But he could care less, always brushing off the rationality and letting himself comfortably melt into your sweet words of affirmation and love. As long as he was with you, he was more than fine being a sweet man. Anything that made you happy, anything you wanted to call him.. he would love all of it, just seeing you smile is enough to make his heart race. He never realized how emotionally sensitive he was until he met you, but.. he doesn’t really mind it.

At first Gyutaro was worried and even intimidated by how you made him feel. fuzzy, comforted, calm.. all were signs of weakness to him, which was something that he couldn’t be based on what was instinctually ingrained into his head. At least.. that was until he actually started working with you and becoming more comfortable with the idea of feeling comfortable. He still hated the idea of being weak.. but he didn’t mind being calm for a little bit, even if it meant showing some weakness. He felt this way because you would be there, someone he knew that he could show these ‘weaknesses’ around without being viewed as lesser.

He grumbled softly, pulling you closer just ever so slightly. Gyutaro made sure to be gentle, always aware of his weird boney physique and always worried of hurting you, or even just making you uncomfortable.

“You did good today, Gyutaro.. so good. I’m so lucky to have you, and so is Daki.. you make us the luckiest souls in the world..”

These words were ones that he would never forget; Akin to whenever else you praised him. He would just never get over it, and never fully get used to how good and relaxing it truly felt. Despite what you claimed about you and Daki being the luckiest souls alive because of him, he felt the opposite. Because despite his misfortune, he honestly and truly believed he had to be one of the luckiest men alive to have gotten to meet and form a relationship with you. He was the luckiest man alive to be able to provide and care for his sister and you, and it was a task that made him feel something nothing else could.

Lying peacefully in your arms listening to sweet words of affirmation, for once Gyutaro truly felt at peace in this hectic life he upholds.

[last-herondale]

Always In Front of Me

Jacob Black x FemReader

T/w: Mentions of blood, violence, death

Hurt/comfort, fated lovers

A/N: heyo! A few people have asked for a perspective from Jacob’s point of view from my wintered series! This is after Honesty and before Wintered!

Expect at least 2 more fics for this series in the future 💙

I’ll link the master list here!

Enjoy 🤘🏼

Jacob sat at your beside, watching the even motion of your chest rising and falling. The two of you were in one of the Cullen’s rooms. Jacob wasn’t sure whose, maybe Alice, maybe Jasper? No definitely Alice. She had insisted after… Jacob shook his head at the memory. He looked over you, making sure you were alright, to see if there was anything he could possibly do. He had been there for days on end, refusing to leave your side as you recovered.

Months earlier you had done the same for him after the battle with Victoria’s newborn army. Jacob remembered how you accepted the role as his gentle nurse, aiding him as he healed from his wounds. How minor his injuries seemed now. He winced as he looked at your neck brace— the bluish bruises under your eyes. The sight of you made his stomach churn. How could he have been so blind? How could he have not known until that night?

~

The world seemed to be moving in slow motion. So much chaos had ensued in such a short amount of time that Jacob wasn’t entirely sure what was real anymore.

Bella had gone into labor. He witnessed her body jerk and contort, breaking and snapping with haunting echos as the creature inside her yearned to be free. The Cullens had sprung to action, or at least those that had remained. A plan had been devised to allow some of the Cullens to break through Sam’s patrol so that they could feed, and get more blood for Bella.

Seth, Leah, and You had agreed to help with the plan. Jacob had distracted Sam’s pack long enough to allow the Cullens to escape, and for a moment you all thought you had won a victory. The Cullens could feed, Bella would be safe, and no one would have to die.

But then all hell broke loose. While The Cullens rushed to save Bella, Sam’s pack decided to launch their attack. You had sounded the alarm to Jacob, ripping out a guttural howl into the night sky. Leah and Seth had already sprung into action, blurs of fur clashing into the night. Alice and Jasper joined the fight as well, battling the wolves that were once their allies.

Jacob’s mind had been a jumbled mess. His fear for Bella tore his heart in one direction, but his worry for his family tore him in the other. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared in horror as Edward pulled the baby from Bella. The smell of blood burned in Jacob’s nostrils as he watched his best friend lie lifeless on the table. His head was ringing. He couldn’t register Edwards words as he began to preform CPR on Bella. Jacob felt his legs move him on his own accord, as his body left the room in a tranced state.

Bella was dead. He had expected it. Tried to mentally prepare for it, but now that it was here… his chest felt empty. What was all of this pain for? Why did Jacob love Bella if he knew it would always end in death? Was this how love was supposed to be? Constant pain? Unending torture?

Jacob collapsed outside of the Cullen’s house and began to sob. The battle raged on around him, his pack and the Cullens fighting Sam’s pack. You were grappling with Embry and Quill, keeping them from reaching the house while Leah and Seth were out of sight. Jacob looked at the scene before him as his body broke out in heaved sobs. You heard his anguished cries and felt your soul tug. The desperate need to be there for him roared in your mind as you fought.

The imprint bond, the tether that seemed to shape your heart sang out within your blood. You felt a surge of strength return to your body as you flung Quill against a tree, hearing a whimper escape his wolf form. Embry lunged at you again, but you were able to sidestep him and sink your teeth into the back of his leg. Once he too fell, you spun around to Jacob. Guilt flashed through your mind for a moment, these were your friends— your brothers after all. As much as it pained you to admit it though, Jacob came first. Always.

The brokenness of his face told you all you needed to know. Bella was dead.

Your heart ached with the thought of your friend. Bella had been a kind soul. The kind of person you only encountered once in a lifetime. You knew the likelihood of her passing, but you held our hope for her. Maybe there would be time for the Cullens to change her. Maybe she would make it after all. You always held hope, not just for her, but for Jacob as well. You dreaded this day. The day Jacob’s heart would shatter beyond repair.

You began to sprint towards Jacob, to protect him from the battle as he sat there out in the open, but you heard a scream to the right of you. Paul had Alice pinned underneath him. The small vampire had her hands gripped on either side of Paul’s jaw to keep back his sharp canines. She could have easily beaten Paul if her strength was up, but she had needed to feed for days now, and you could see the struggle in her eyes.

Perhaps it was stupid to care for a vampire. Everything you were taught went against what your heart told you. Alice was your friend. She seemed no less human to you than Seth or Leah. And she needed help.

Suddenly you were pounding towards Paul. You slammed into him with enough force to knock the wind out of yourself. You snapped at him, gripping a chunk of his fur as the two of you tumbled in the dirt. You saw a pale flash if movement, and hoped it was Alice escaping into the house. Paul seems to support this theory as he let out a horrible snarl. His claws dug into your sides and the pain was enough to cause you to release him. He pinned you down easily enough, his strength had always overmatched yours. You looked into his dark eyes as he plunged his teeth around your neck. The crunch was horrific. You tried to scream, but the wind seemed to leave you as soon as your lips opened. You wanted to say his name, one last time. Your mind glazed over with pain as darkness quickly swept over your consciousness.

~

That was when everything snapped into place. Jacob felt as if his heart was being ripped from his chest as he watched Paul snap your neck. Suddenly, all of the memories of you flooded through his mind, but it was as if a lens had been removed. What had once been simple memories of one of his best friends, now became something unimaginably more important. The first day he met you. Jacob was struck by how beautiful you were, how sweet your voice sounded in his ears. The echo of it now was sweet music. He had been muted to it for so long. The memories of the two of you training together, how you both had leaned on each other for support as you navigated through these difficult changes. You had always been there, he realized. How had he never noticed until now?

Realization struck home, like a blazing sun clearing through the darkness. Jacob felt as if his whole world had shifted back into place. He had been wandering aimlessly in the world, trying so desperately to find his purpose, his meaning within the chaos. He tried to find it in loving Bella. How silly that seemed now. Now it was as if there never was a world where he did not belong to you. Where you did not spark his soul into a million burning fires.

My imprint… my soulmate.

Jacob’s thoughts were scattered and racing through his mind a million miles a second. He didn’t have time to sort through his emotions, all that mattered was you. And you were lying motionless on the ground, your body shifting back into your human form as Paul tossed you aside.

Jacob shifted in an instant and charged Paul. The force of the collision caused the tree they knocked into to snap at the base and crash into the Cullen’s yard. Jacob felt a primal rage course through his body. He dug his teeth into Paul’s shoulder and threw him into another tree. Paul yelped as Jacob went in again, snapping at his arm until a sickening crunch echoed into the night.

Jacob stop!

Seth’s voice echoed through Jacob’s mind, but Jacob did not relinquish. He would make Paul pay for what he did to you. For taking away his chance at happiness before he could even…

Jake, stop! You’re killing him!

Seth begged through his mind. Paul laid limp underneath Jacob, his fur a bloody mess as Jacob continued to thrash him. He was taking it too far, he knew, but he didn’t care.

“She’s alive!”

The voice was real. Not just a telepathic whisper. But a real, high pitched sounding yell. Jacob stopped in his tracks and spun around to see Alice leaning over you as the others watched him in horror. Alice had her head over your heart, listening to the faint beating.

“She’s alive Jacob, please, stop this.”

Jacob took a good look around to see that the chaos had stilled during his rage. The packs looked horrified, Sam especially as he ran to pull Paul away from him. The eerie quiet of the forest chilled Jacob’s back as he hurried himself beside your body. His anger refused to let him shift back into his human form, so he just stood there, watching as Alice carefully picked you up to carry you into the house.

It was Leah that shifted back first, looking at your body then at Jacob in disbelief.

“You imprinted on y/n…” she said. Jacob’s wolf just panted, his eyes locked on Sam and his pack in case they tried to make a break for the house. Leah turned to Sam, his wolf looking at them with fierce uncertainty. Sam couldn’t read Jacob’s thoughts anymore, but Leah could. She recognized what an imprint felt like, knew what kind of bond that was. She knew Sam did too, and in that she saw their salvation.

“Jacob imprinted on y/n!” She yelled loud enough for all of the packs to hear. Sam’s eyes widened at Jacob, and for a moment his resolve finally wavered. Leah took notice and pointed at Sam. “You know our laws, all of you! If you kill her, you kill Jacob. Is this what you want Sam? Your friends— your family dead? Over what? A baby?” It had been the first time Jacob had heard Leah refer to Bella’s baby as such. It was enough to calm Jacob down enough to shift back into his human form.

“It’s true Sam. This has gone on long enough. I don’t want this… but I can’t lose her, please. We have to stop this fighting.”

Sam remained still for a moment as he looked at Jacob’s face. He tried to find the insincerity in Jacob’s voice, his expression, but he found none. It only took one glance at Paul for Sam to realize that only an imprint would cause that sort of violence from Jacob. They might have had their little fights in the past, but this was different. He thought of Emily being attacked and a chill ran down his spine. They were right. Enough was enough.

Sam turned to his pack, speaking a silent message through their minds. Quill and Embry helped Paul to his feet, leaning him up against each other as they limped out of the forest. Jacob waited in silence, half expecting them to return and finish them off.

“They won’t return,” Edward’s voice rose from behind Jacob. Jacob turned to face Edward, and was surprised to see him away from Bella. Edward just nodded at Jacob, and it was enough for now. “Let’s get her inside. Quick, Carlisle is on his way.” Alice carried you inside, Jacob and Edward close at on her heel. Everything else after that became a blur to Jacob. Carlisle and the rest of the Cullens arrived minutes later, and Carlisle began quick work on you to heal your wounds. Jacob stood by your side the entire time. Once you were stable, Carlisle moved you into Alice’s room, and kept you on fluids and a monitor as you slept.

It was a waiting game. Carlisle feared that there had been damage to your brain, but that he had hope you would wake up in your own time. Jacob thanked him as he left. Then it was just the two of you. Jacob sat next to you as the monitor made soft beeps. He held your limp hand, and ran his thumb over your skin.

There was a knock at the door, and Leah and Seth slipped into the room. Seth knelt beside the bed and put his hand on your forehead. A small gesture of love, as he whispered a small prayer. Seth’s eyes were watering and he sniffed as he rubbed his eyes.

“She’ll be okay, Seth,” Leah murmured, “She’s strong. She’s a fighter.”

“Yeah,” Seth said in a small ragged voice.

“Jake,” Leah said, “She’ll make it.”

Jacob just gave a small nod. His throat felt clogged. He felt warm tears fall down his cheek as he rested his head in your hand. He felt his pack put their hand in his shoulders. “Why did it take so long?” Jacob finally choked out, “why now?”

Leah gave a bitter laugh. “One thing I’ve learned is that this ability can be cruel. There may not be any rhyme or reason, but it’s what we have to survive. And she will, she will survive this. You both will.”

Jacob let himself cry as he held your hand. He whispered into your palm, begging for you to wake up. He had so much he wanted to say to you. Things he wished he could explain, apologize for the time he had wasted chasing false dreams. Sense left him, and finally the pain and sorrow was all he felt. He was surrounded by his family and let their love warm the fractured pieces of his tired weary soul.

~

Your eyes fluttered open two days later. Disoriented, you struggled to raise your head up to look around, but got caught up against the breathing tubes and neck brace. You raised your hand to remove them but a strong hand gently gripped your wrists. The touch was familiar, beautifully familiar.

“Steady there speed racer,” Jacob’s husky voice warmed the side of your face. You let him guide your hand back down as you blinked away the rest of your drowsiness. “Jake…what happened…?”

“Shhh shhh,” he cooed, his hand stroked the side of your face. You thought you were still in a dream state, his touch was warm and comforting. “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.” You resisted the temptation to lean your head deeper into his palm, the scent of him was intoxicating.

You scrunched your brow in confusion. Not matter? Your mind struggled to recall your last memories. You remembered seeing blood on the living room floor, then the green forest just outside of the Cullen house, then a large black wolf lunging towards you…

“Paul,” you whispered. The memories came crashing back in a torrential wave. You tried to jerk up on bed again, but the brace and tubes kept you back.

“What happened? Is everyone okay? Did Alice— oh my god, Bella??”

Jacob put his hands on either side of your face to calm you. “It’s okay, everyone’s fine. Everyone’s fine.” You tried to calm your breathing, but the memories of that night stormed in your mind. Jacob’s presence calmed you; his touch was enough to bring you back into the present.

“I don’t… understand. Jake…”

Jacob explained away the time you missed, careful to leave out the imprinting. He was waiting to see the change in you too, to see if the bond had reshaped your life as it had his. But to his dismay, he saw no change. How could he possibly bring it up to you? Would you even believe him? Just days ago he had been fighting so hard for Bella, the girl he though he loved. How could he ever begin to explain?

Little did he know that your life had already been reshaped. That the bond had formed for you the first moment you saw him. Jacob swallowed his disappointment as he finished his story.

“So, Bella’s gonna be okay? Edward saved her in time?” You asked.

Jacob nodded. “It seems so. Carlisle thinks she should wake up in the next day or so.” Your shoulders relaxed a bit at that bit of information. You hadn’t lost a friend after all.

“But wait, I still don’t understand…, how did Leah convince Sam to leave again?”

Jacob blanked for a moment. She had hoped you wouldn’t notice how he skimmed over that detail, but of course you hadn’t. Jacob opened his mouth to try and craft a delicate lie, but luckily he was saved by Carlisle knocking on the door.

“Ah, good, my favorite patient is up.” Carlisle gave you a warm smile as he approached you. You were happy to see him, healthy and alive. His eyes had returned to a golden brown, and his overall mood seemed happy compared to the last few months.

He began to check on the monitors and tubes, noting your heart rate and oxygen levels. He turned to Jacob.

“Would you mind if I spoke with y/n, alone for a moment?” Jacob wanted to protest, he hadn’t left your side at all while you were under, but that was when he didn’t have to hide anything. He looked at you for a moment, letting himself have the satisfaction of seeing you awake, alive and well, before peeling himself from the chair.

“Of course Doc,” Jacob said with a small smirk. You watched him as he left, giving him a smile as he turned back to look at you before closing the door.

~

Jacob descended the stairs, his emotions a swirl of confusion. At the base he ran into Leah and Seth, both of whom looked excited. “Edward told us the news. Is she finally awake?” Seth asked, his eyes alight with excitement. Jacob nodded, but he put his hand on Seth’s shoulder. “She’s awake and well. The Doc is talking with her now, but I need to talk with the two of you.”

“Sure, what is it Jake?” Seth asked. Leah just stood there with her arms crossed. She seemed a bit more relaxed after hearing you were okay, but being in the Cullens house was still tough for her, and Jacob appreciated her effort.

Jacob took a slow, steady breath. “I don’t want to tell her about the imprint.” His voice was low and steady. Seth began to protest while Leah held a straight face.

“Listen, this is how it needs to be. Whatever happened the other night seems to only have happened to me. I don’t want to force her into something like this… for her to feel obligated to feel something for me that she doesn’t. She’s kind hearted, and too gentle. I can’t do that to her. And I know I can’t keep it from her forever, but just for now… until I figure out a way to tell her. Please.”

You too Cullen. Please, if you could spread the word to your family… I would appreciate it.

Jacob knew Edward would be able to hear their conversation. He only hoped Edward would play along, for your sake more so than his.

Seth gave Leah an uncertain look, but Leah just nodded in response. “We won’t say anything, but Jake,” Leah began, “we don’t want your heart to break anymore either.”

Jacob just gave a small smile. The images of you flashed through his mind. All of the memories of you in his life, and how much those moments had meant to you, even then. Now they were everything. The breath of life sustaining his soul. He had a purpose now. A reason to always fight, to always be there.

You, and only you.

“It’ll be worth it this time, no matter what happens. Believe me, everything’s different now. Everything.”

Tag-list

@steverogersgirlfriend-blog @milesquaritchh

[suzukiblu]

An excerpt of morally-ambiguous-dad!Lex for @robotogato to hopefully enjoy, haha.

"Clones really don't get soulmarks, though," Kon says in frustration. "It doesn't even make sense that I'd have one."

"Well, I suppose there's the possibility that I just want you so badly that it happened anyway," Lex Luthor muses idly. "A Luthor doesn't generally accept being denied what they want."

"Very fucking funny," Kon mutters, shooting him a glower. "I'm being serious here, asshole."

"Hm," Lex Luthor observes, inspecting him neutrally. "Not even a moment where you let yourself want to believe that, was there."

"Why would I wanna believe that a bastard like you wanted me?" Kon sneers at him.

"Because I am the only person in the multiverse who would burn down reality for you without hesitation," Lex Luthor says like he's talking about the weather or something. Like he's just stating a totally inconsequential fact or reiterating something as obvious as the sky being blue.

Like there's no question there at all.

"I hope you fucking die and I hope it fucking hurts," Kon hisses as the whole world seems to bleed red, just about choking on his fury.

"Well, it will if you don't close your eyes," Lex Luthor says, raising an eyebrow at him. "Quickly, ideally."

"Wh–" Kon is almost stupid enough to ask, and then he realizes and immediately screws his eyes shut, snapping his hands up over his face just in case.

His eye sockets feel like they're on fire.

"Ah, I suppose I live another day," Lex Luthor says. "Rage and anger are notable triggers for the heat vision, if you're still unfamiliar. And apparently arousal as well, although I have very definitely never encountered that version so I can't say if it's more or less potent than rage."

"How do you even know about it, then?" Kon asks, hating that he can't trust himself to look at the bastard without killing him. Lex Luthor could be doing any stupid fucked-up thing right now and he'd have no fucking clue.

"I am a very intelligent person who can afford very good information," Lex Luthor says. "And I am also more intimately familiar with Kryptonian DNA than quite possibly anyone else on this planet, Superman included."

"Superman has Kryptonian DNA," Kon retorts dubiously.

"He does," Lex Luthor agrees. "His special little gift from dumb luck and blind chance. Some of us actually had to put in a bit of effort to get that kind of power, though."

"You don't have that kind of power," Kon says. "You have money and the fucking bullshit fear that you put into people."

"Ah, but I have you now," Lex Luthor counters mildly. "Now don't I."

"You don't," Kon snaps.

"Oh, give it sixteen years or so," Lex Luthor says, making a dismissive gesture as Kon's eyes finally stop burning long enough for him to risk a glare at him. "Your full powerset should be in by then, and I imagine I'll have had a bit of time to change your mind somewhere in there."

"I don't care what whatever custody law bullshit says about it, I'm not gonna stay with you," Kon says tightly. "Sure as shit not for the next sixteen years!"

"Oh?" Lex Luthor asks, raising an eyebrow at him. "Then where exactly are you intending to go long-term? Just planning to stay in a lab for the rest of your life?"

"Why the fuck not?" Kon says in exasperation.

Lex Luthor's eyes narrow.

"Oh," he says like a realization. "Someone's actually made you assume that you belong in a lab, haven't they."

"Yeah, I can't think of a single unrepentant bastard who might've had a hand in me belonging in one of those," Kon bites off darkly. "Real fucking mystery there, huh."

"Hm," Lex Luthor says.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hi!

I was wondering if you could write more stories of the war captive prince. (Maybe the captive one gets hurt while saving the prince from death?)

By the way, I really love your writing.

Hope you have a nice day! (*ˊᵕˋ*)ﾉ

So this doesn't really fit into the narrative but if I had to, I'd place it between part 1 and 2.

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt.4

Being a prisoner wasn’t as bad as he had feared.

He had a room to himself. It wasn’t much but it wasn’t a cell where he would rot within days. Soldiers guarded his door outside day and night and maids seemed to be making his bed when he was working in the castle. Whatever the protagonist had expected, it wasn’t this, it wasn’t an almost decent life.

But then again, he supposed the prince wanted to keep an eye on him. After all, everyone was watching him. All the time.

Most of the time, he worked in the castle amongst the other servants and it was easy to forget that those people weren’t his acquaintances. The protagonist knew these people weren’t responsible for his pain and suffering but still, every time he talked to one of them or shared his food, deep down his heart broke a little.

He felt as if he was betraying his friend by showing others kindness.

One day, when the prince had felt particularly merciful (or cruel), he had brought him down to the dungeons. And there he had seen them. His friend, frail and hopeless. He didn’t know if they had even recognised him. They hadn’t talked, had barely looked at him.

Since then, he had tried to sneak away and get back down there again, but it was to no avail. Whenever he was sure he had distracted the guards, one of them showed up in front of him and barked at him to get back to work.

With that memory burnt into his brain, the protagonist avoided the prince at all cost. Because he was sure he would find a way to strangle him to death the next time they’d meet.

So, when he’d been instructed to go to the prince’s chambers today, he was full of energy. His heart was beating in his throat. Rage blinded him and he feared he would make a drastic decision he could regret later.

However, as soon as he set a foot into the prince’s room, he could tell something was off.

“You actually came, I’m impressed.” The prince sat on his bed, holding his stomach. At first, the protagonist didn’t want to understand. He saw the prince in a weak state and wondered how long it would take him to end this.

In his lifetime, the protagonist had killed a lot of people. Undoubtedly, there was dark and thick blood on his hands.

Maybe he would finally add the prince’s too.

“You’re bleeding,” the protagonist realised. His eyes dropped to the wound the prince tried to hide and the strange amount of linen drenched in blood.

His muscles tensed.

The protagonist wondered what it would feel like to push his fingers into his wound and curl them. What sounds the prince would make if the protagonist found something in this luxurious room to press deeper into the cut. What he would look like if the protagonist strangled him and watched him bleed out.

The protagonist got overwhelmed with ideas, with rage and with determination. He wondered when he had gotten this violent, but maybe war had changed him.

Or he had always been this way.

“Yes. That’s why I asked for you.” His breathing was quick and he hunched, holding his stomach as the blood dropped down his fingers. “You have military experience, don’t you? That includes sanitary practice.”

“You’re delusional if you think I might help you.”

“I’ve heard that in your country you’re sewing wounds. It’s probably my last hope. My medics are panicking,” he said. His voice was raspy and the protagonist was sure he felt lightheaded. Losing a lot of blood was dangerous, even the prince should’ve been aware of that.

“Again, why would I help you?” he asked.

The prince made a noise between a groan and a sigh, mixed with pain and annoyance.

“Your friend, obviously. You can see them again tomorrow if you save me. If you don’t, they’ll be killed.” The protagonist cocked his head but what he was seeing seemed to be real. Tears were streaming down the prince’s face. Not a lot and barely noticeable but they sparkled in the dim light.

This was an easy choice, then.

“Good. Lay down.” The protagonist approached him quickly and pushed his enemy into the bed.

The prince’s face twisted and he looked as grey as ash. Even if the protagonist had to save him, that didn’t mean he couldn’t cause as much pain as he wanted.

“Put more pressure on the wound,” he said. He observed what the prince was doing, then shook his head. “No, like this.”

He pushed the clean linen the medics had given to the prince deep into the wound. They turned red immediately and the prince gasped.

“Oh gods-” He held onto the protagonist’s wrist, grabbed him harsh enough to leave bruises. He arched his back and whimpered like a dog and the protagonist stared at him, stared at the person who could be so cruel being exposed to cruelty.

Quickly, the protagonist realised, that they’d been this close in the throne room last. It was an eerie feeling.

But the pain the prince endured wasn’t satisfactory to the protagonist. He got distracted, looked a little too long at the tear stains.

“Needles? Threads?” The prince pointed at the drawer next to the bed and the protagonist found what he was searching for soon enough.

“What happened?” he asked as he took the bowl filled with water from the drawer. He put the thread through the needle’s head and drenched the needle in water.

“Assassination attempt,” the prince groaned. “I fought back but…clearly didn’t make a big difference.”

Quickly, the protagonist took the needle out of the water again.

“Shouldn’t the whole castle panic, then?”

“I managed to avoid that. Only a few people know that I’m injured,” he said. The protagonist looked at the wound. The bleeding wasn’t as serious anymore, so he pulled the linen out of the wound, much to the prince’s dismay.

His fingertips brushed against the protagonist’s.

“I’ve never killed anyone before,” the prince admitted. “Not with my own hands.”

“It’s much harder than it looks,” the protagonist said and the prince nodded. Before the prince answered, the protagonist pushed the needle through his skin.

The prince’s hand found his wrist again and he squeezed as the protagonist continued carefully.

Although the protagonist could sew, he was rather clumsy when it came to his own fingers. Every now and then, he stabbed into his fingertips until his own blood dropped onto the prince’s stomach, red and red mixing together.

“There was so much blood,” the prince said. The protagonist could feel his eyes on him. “I didn’t even notice I was wounded.”

The protagonist pulled a little too harsh on the thread and the prince flinched.

“Apologies,” he mumbled and for whatever reason, his hand landed on the prince’s forearm, trying to calm him. “I’m almost done.”

Again, the prince nodded and let him continue his work. When he was done, he looked at the result and found himself quite satisfied with it.

Maybe the protagonist was a fool for helping him. Maybe it was his own nature. Maybe war hadn’t hardened him, maybe it had exhausted him, had made him soft.

“Rest for the next few days. You also need a lot of food and water.” He stood up and turned around before he could put more thoughts into the situation, however, the prince grabbed his forearm before he could go.

“No word of this to anyone, please,” he said but the protagonist didn’t answer. What kind of power did he have here anyway? Trying to convince the people to overthrow their own prince? A revolution? Who would even listen to him? “…and thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” the protagonist said and he meant every word of it.

[cambion-companion]

Comedy of Errors Part 2 "The Mystery of Clive"

Alright, ya'll asked for more of this chaos.

Tag list: @muthafuckingstargirl@allihavenegativethoughts@ultarviolence@thesadvampire@jae-hae-rys@schniiipsel@gotjonsa1@drqgone@weakling-grace@vhagars-dementia

Word count: 1208

Part one here

Aemond x reader | hungover hilarity ensues | Clive is sniffed out

Sunlight pierced through your eyelids, causing you to wince and shrink further into the safety of your blanket cocoon.  You had a raging headache, your mouth felt like the deserts outside Meereen as you tried unsuccessfully to move your leaden tongue.  You turned with agonizing slowness onto your back, reaching your arm out, feeling for Aemond who you'd expected to be sleeping beside you. The bed was empty save for your own aching body; with difficulty you kicked off the quilt and sat up, propping yourself on your hands.

You scanned the room, spitting strands of your own hair out of your mouth, squinting against the blinding light of the rising sun.  He was not there, you groaned, rubbing your temples, trying to remember the events of the night before.  All you could recall was Aegon’s face grinning at you as he helped refill your wine glass.  Worry coursed through your mind at all the possibilities of what could’ve happened, your worst fear was you had given your husband so much grief, causing him to spend the night elsewhere.

The oaken door to your chambers opened and Aemond pushed his way through, his arms laden with several plates full of steaming food.  He placed them upon the table, turning to look at you, smiling with amusement at the state you were in.  “Good morning, do you have the faculties to eat breakfast?”  

“I might throw it all up in a few minutes, but I am famished.”

“Hmm, I can imagine.”

Aemond watched, his smirk growing, as you clumsily fumbled out of bed, catching yourself on the nearby wall.  “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” You righted yourself as much as possible, stumbling to the table, making to sit upon the dining chair.  

“Y/N!”  Aemond, his smug smile vanishing, reached for you but it was too late. You crashed to the floor, having missed the chair by a good few inches.

“Owwww…”  You groaned as Aemond, determinedly avoiding your glare, helped you off the ground.  You massaged your backside. “That’s going to leave a bruise.”

“Perhaps we should eat on the bed.”  Aemond suggested, the strain of keeping a straight face causing a tear to well up in his violet eye.

“I can sit in a chair dammit!”  You felt below you for the seat before sinking down upon it with a relieved sigh.  

Your husband helped you fill your plate and poured you a glass of water, he sat himself as well, watching as you gobbled the food.  Silence fell between you a moment, then, “Who’s Clive?”

You choked.  

Aemond swore, swiftly kneeling by your side, thumping you hard several times upon your back as you coughed the scrambled egg out of your lung.

“C-Clive?”  Your eyes streaming, you looked into Aemond’s bemused face.

“That was what you called me last night, when you were so drunk you forgot what your husband looks like.”

“I…what?”  You coughed unnecessarily several more times to buy some time, your mind too foggy to think quickly.

“You seemed convinced I was this ‘Clive’, you threatened him…me when I tried helping you undress.”

“…I see.”  You didn’t, but you also had no desire to speak further.  Aemond stayed next to you, waiting while you chewed upon your bottom lip, the breakfast forgotten.

You took the glass of water, gulping some down, keeping the rim to your lips.

“I know you’re stalling, Y/N.  You’re not even drinking.”  Aemond reached for your wrist, pushing your hand away from your mouth and back down to the table.  “Who is Clive?”

“He was a man I was betrothed to back before I was sent to King’s Landing.”  The words spilled out of your mouth much like the water sloshing over your glass of water as you stared at the little droplets gathering on the wood.

Aemond tucked his finger under your chin, turning you to face him. “And you’re still in contact with him?”

You shook your head instinctively but hesitated, your eyes looking at the wall over Aemond’s left shoulder.

“Y/N, look at me.”

You did, the expression of jealousy on Aemond’s face sent a swooping sensation to your stomach which would’ve been pleasant if it weren’t for your raging hangover.  

“We communicate on occasion, as friends do.”

“Where is he now?”  

“As if I would tell you!”  You stabbed at a sausage with your fork, missing wildly.

“Is he in King’s Landing?”

You moved some cherry tomatoes absently around the plate with your knife.

“Y/N…”

“Ugh, Aemond!” You slammed your cutlery down, looking at him with an aggravated roll of your neck. “It seems you’ve forgotten I married you!”

You grabbed his face with your hands, leaning in to kiss him but Aemond batted you away, falling back. “Your breath smells atrocious, keep your distance.”  

You blew air at him, causing the prince to retch, before you turned your attention back to your food, keenly aware of his gaze upon you. As you forked careful mouthfuls of egg into your mouth, Aemond approached once more, beginning to comb his fingers through your hair, detangling the veritable rat’s nest upon your head.  “You didn’t just mention Clive last night.”  His voice had grown soft.

“Oh? I hesitate to wonder.”  Your sarcastic remark was muffled around a mouthful of porridge.

“You bragged to me about your husband.  Well, I suppose you bragged to Clive about your husband.”

“What did I say, exactly?”

“Only good things, I assure you.”  Aemond smiled wryly, wiping a speck of egg off your face. “I had to stop you short before you could illustrate exactly why I am an excellent lover.”

Luckily you didn’t have food in your mouth this time as you inhaled sharply. “Please tell me we were alone at that point.”

“Well, Clive was there.”

You smacked him playfully on the chest, Aemond grabbed your hand, placing a kiss to your knuckles.  “I jest, my love.  Clive is safe from my infamous wrath.”

“I’m sure he’s thankful, far away at Highgarden as he is.”

“Ah.”   Aemond straightened, walking to the door. “So, he is in the Reach then.”

“Aemond no!”  Cursing, crumbs flying, you grabbed your overcoat and followed him out into the still empty hallway. “Come back here!  What are you going to do?”

Aemond glanced back as you hurried to catch up to his long strides, nearly tripping on the rug and faceplanting, catching yourself on his arm.

“I intend to introduce myself, that is all.”  

“By sending Vhagar?”  Your eyes were wide with panic as you clutched at his leather tunic.

“By sending a raven, Y/N.  There’s no need for me to ride my dragon to Highgarden.”  You breathed a sigh of relief. “Yet.”

“You’re an ass.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying teasing you. “Last night I was Clive.”

“Well now you’re Aemond again.  Though I can sure tell you how that’s vexing me at present.”

Your husband stopped, turning to grasp both your forearms in his large hands. “My lovely, hungover wife.  You look like a street urchin come fresh out of Flea Bottom and I imagine you don’t feel much better.”  He grinned as you punched at his shoulder, turning to the side to swiftly dodge the blow. “Go tend to yourself, I will send a raven inviting Clive to the Red Keep.  I’d like to meet this man you were once betrothed to.”

You stood still in the middle of the hallway as Aemond turned and continued onward, his long silver hair falling down his back. “You’re an evil, evil man, husband.”

“Make sure to drink lots of water, wife!”  He called, before rounding a corner and disappearing from your line of sight.

[gabrielleyueerrrrr]

Noose —— An AVA oneshot

Only amidst the debris of websites and the lifeless remains of other stick figures, feeling the feeble struggle of a victim slowly ceased as life leaves them under his chokehold, was Dark’s restless mind the closest to being truly free.

Word count: 2.2k words

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Everything hurts.

The Dark Lord lay in the middle of a giant crater. The mountain that was here moments ago disappeared as if it was being scooped out by a cosmic spoon like a piece of pudding. He cannot move, his body feels like he just threw himself into the pulveriser in his workshop where he disposed of the virabots that fall short of his standards. With every breath his lungs make this awful, rasping noise like a broken steam engine.

The earth beneath him was still warm, and he could smell smoke in the air. A weird light green energy surrounded him, creating a tingling sensation like a small electric current passing through his skin.

…What happened?

He remembered cornering Chosen in a dent on the cliffs, his former best friend being pinned down by his powerful virabots, he remembered approaching the black hollowhead triumphantly, ready to end this ridiculous fight and unleash the virabots onto the internet. Then some random kids showed up out of nowhere and even dared to attack him. He remembered slaying them one by one, enjoying the sensation of the virablade piercing through their body effortlessly like a hot knife through butter.

And then what happened?

Oh. Right. That orange kid.

A Hollowhead, just like him and Chosen. An abomination created by Noogai to destroy him.

Such power. He recalled the overwhelming, primitive fear when he saw the blinding green light in that kid’s eyes, tremendous energy radiates out from every inch of the kid’s body, pure, violent and deadly. That fear made the hair on the back of his neck stand on their ends and his entire body freeze. He has never been so afraid in his entire life, not even when The Chosen One defeated him all those years back.

How much time has passed since he was struck into the crater? A few hours? Or just mere seconds? He could not tell. His ears were ringing, dark spots danced around his vision. No matter how hard he tried he still could not move, it was as if his mind suddenly lost control of his body. He was unable to tell how severe his injuries are, but he knew it must be close to fatal. He wondered why his healing factor wasn’t working, it because of that green energy? If so, that Orange kid was even more horrendous than he thought.

One moment he was at the pinnacle of his life, feeling more powerful and invincible than ever. Even the weapon wielded by god himself, the animator’s cursor, was no match for him. The next moment he was lying in the middle of who knows where, helpless, weak, dying, even the frailest child could easily finish him off. The lingering terror and shock morphed into bitter rage. 

It’s not fair! He wanted to scream, but all he could do was making a horrible choking sound that sent stabs of excruciating pain through his chest. 

Curse that Orange brat.

Curse the animator and his wretched cursor.

The anger inside him writhed like a thousand venomous snakes. Dark widened his eyes, but his vision contained nothing but rapidly shifting shapes and intermingling colours. His breath became quick and shallow, the pair of punctured lungs struggling to deliver oxygen into his tattered body.

Would this be the end of him? He could not send help at this state. Even if he could, no one would offer aid to The Dark Lord. 

No one except his arch-nemesis.

Surely Chosen would come and seek for him? Despite their breakup, Dark is certain that he still matter to Chosen more than anyone, Chosen wouldn’t just leave him here to die.

So he waited.

And waited.

Gradually he felt his body losing grip on his mind, his mind drifting away like a stringless kite gliding above a sea of memories, flashbacks from random times and random places, his consciousness watching them unfold like a bystander. 

Then he suddenly returned to reality, and a cold sensation washed over him.

Nobody came.

That…that’s alright. Chosen must have been taking a long time to get here. He was blasted across a long distance after all. Or maybe Chosen was so hurt himself he needed to rest first, then he will come and rescue him. Yes, that must be it, he just needed to wait a bit longer.

…

……

…Or maybe Chosen went with the Orange kid back to Alan’s PC, not even caring about Dark’s whereabouts.

Dark felt his whole body shivered at the thought, panic rose up from his abdomen.

No, no, no, no, no!

It can’t be!

Chosen wouldn’t choose the Animator over him! Even though Chosen never revealed his past with their creator, Dark knew that Alan had brought nothing to him but suffering. Chosen’s veracious appetite and his intense claustrophobia both suggested some form of abuse, they made Dark wanting to kill the damn animator a thousand times over.

And Dark was his one and only friend. They’ve flew together side by side, playing in the clouds like a pair of nimble skylarks; they’ve sat under the moons and stars, chatting and laughing until they both fell asleep on each other; they’ve fled from burning buildings and screaming crowds like children who pulled a prank, mischievous glee brightened their faces. 

So why did Chosen suddenly decide to turn against him? Did his best friend really hate him that much he was willing to cooperate with their previous tormentor to destroy him? 

This very thought was like virablades piercing through Dark’s soul, the pain outmatching all of his physical injuries. He just couldn’t understand.

But then again, Chosen was special. Even after years of cohabitation Dark never seem to truly understand this stoic hollowhead. How can someone be so incredibly powerful, and yet having such a soft heart? Dark could never imagine sparing someone who is literally programmed to destroy him, let alone allowing this person to become his most intimate friend.

Dark still felt the urge inside of him, the urge to destroy The Chosen One, to burn him down with his flames, to tear him apart code by code. He always did, and it felt like a noose perpetually around his neck, every now and then it would slowly and painfully tighten, making him unable to think about anything else.

But Chosen never seemed to mind. Even when one second Dark was casually talking with him about dinner, only to pin him down into the ground the next; even when energy bombs abruptly exploded on his bed in the middle of the night, even when Dark was so scared of himself that he didn’t dare to approach Chosen without restraining his own hands, Chosen never stopped trusting Dark as a friend.

Dark soon figured out a solution. Whenever the temptation to kill Chosen rear its ugly head, Dark would channel it onto others instead. Only amidst the debris of websites and the lifeless remains of other stick figures, feeling the feeble struggle of a victim slowly ceased as life leaves them under his chokehold, could Dark manage to loosen the noose around his neck and pretend, just for a little while, that it wasn’t there. In these moments, his restless mind was the closest to being truly free.

But it’s not enough, these rampages only offer a temporary escape from the mission statement, the uncontrollable urge to eliminate The Chosen One always returns. So Dark kept his mind occupied by developing viruses and weapons, each one more elaborate and fatal than the last. The virabots and the viraband were his greatest creation yet. The thought of his virabots swarming the internet under his command, disintegrating everything in their way into bytes of data, made him tremble in excitement. Who cares about the other stick figures and NPCs when killing those weaklings are no harder than squishing a roach? 

But Chosen always has a soft spot for them, didn’t he? That was another thing Dark couldn’t understand. He always knew that Chosen had this silly hero complex, but he did not expect Chosen to object his plan so vehemently, just to protect those weaklings. Chosen never attacked him with his full power before, and Dark’s body responded instinctively to fight back. 

Their battle soon escalated beyond control. Both of them gave their all, fighting tooth and nail to defeat the other. Dark’s eyes feasted on the clashing red and orange of  lazerbeams and energy bombs, the whoosh of the wind sweeping past him and the gentle hum of the virablades in his hand was music to his ears, every punch and kick he delivered onto Chosen sent endorphins rushing through his brain. And when Chosen was finally beaten to the ground he was thrilled, he wanted to cut open his body, to taste the warmth of the raw data bytes spilling out of his wounds, to kill…

Wait, what?

A sudden realisation sent shivers down Dark’s spine. Is it really himself the one fighting Chosen? Or is it the mission statement engraved in his code? 

He enjoyed hurting his best friend, he wanted to end Chosen’s life, and he nearly succeeded, if it weren’t for the colourful kids that brought themselves between them. Dark once vowed to himself that he would never again let the mission statement take over him, he failed miserably.

A low chuckle escape through Dark’s mouth, then another, then another, until full-blown, hysterical laughter made his whole body shook. His voice sounded like the desperate wail of a raven being shot down by a rifle, the agony in his chest and abdomen felt like hundreds of tiny grenades exploding inside him all at once. But Dark didn’t care. He laughed and laughed the last of his remaining energy bled away.

How pathetic, he dimly thought. The Dark Lord, the powerful, god-like stick figure, the brilliant criminal mastermind, turned out to be the Animator’s puppet through and through. How naive was he to think that he could escape his creator’s control? He could never. The harder he fought against the mission statement, the closer he was to what Alan meant him to be: a killer, a weapon, a machine for destruction. 

Chosen must have known that, so the older hollowhead tried to stop him before he reaches the point where he could not turn back——His best friend did not betray him, he was trying to save him.

But Dark hurt him instead. What a terrible friend Dark was.

Dark felt wetness on his cheeks, was it raining? It took a second for him to realise that it was tearing streaming down his face, he let them go.

Such irony that Dark only realised his mistake in his dying breath, too late to apologise, too late to redeem himself, too late to fix their friendship. It truly was the cruelest punishment.

Dark was so, so tired. The pain in his body already faded into a numb heaviness, the darkness clouding his vision seemed warm and inviting. His only hope was that he could see Chosen one last time before he sank into an eternal slumber, but even this humble wish came to naught. So he closed his eyes, allowing his consciousness to dissolve into nothingness.

……

Suddenly, he felt something inside of him broke with a clear and melodious sound. The sound resonated throughout his headspace like the chime of heavenly bells.

A chorus of chirps and twitters of numerous birds entered his ears, and he could breathe freely again. Dark opened his eyes, and saw the clear sky so far and wide with the richest shade of blue he had ever seen, a gentle breeze brushed against his skin caressingly. 

For the first time in his life, the incessant turmoil in the back of his head ceased. His mind was as still as the surface of a windless lake. 

Dark closed his eyes again, relishing in this moment of complete bliss. It felt so good to be at peace.

Then, he heard a familiar voice calling his name. The scarlet hollowhead sat up with a jolt, standing in front of him was no other than The Chosen One, sunlight brightened his face, his eyes twinkling with fondness and his body devoid of any scars and bruises. He resembled so much of the Chosen in Dark’s earliest memories, when they had just escaped from Alan’s computer, new and curious, endless possibilities laid out in front of them.

For the first time in his life, Dark’s heart was filled with no other emotion or desire than the pure, unadulterated love towards his dearest friend. He allowed himself to feel that love, and it was so strong and warm that he nearly burst into tears.

“Let’s go home, Dark.” Chosen whispered, but somehow Dark could hear him as clearly as though he was speaking next to Dark’s ears. He grinned, stood up, and ran towards his best friend.

......

37 minutes later, The Chosen One found The Dark Lord’s lifeless body, the ghost of a smile still on his pale, cold lips.

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Thanks for reading my first fanfiction! English is not my first language so I apologise for any grammar mistakes or incorrect expressions. Feedbacks and criticisms are greatly appreciated!

[blushblushbear]

Hear me out… concubine/consort AU with monarch reader

you'll have to forgive, I'd be open to writing more of this kind of set up but frankly I read this prompt and one dude came to mind in particular.

Utterly humiliating.

Fuyu, worn down and looking the most unkempt he ever had, was being pulled from a dim covered wagon by a chain around his neck and wrists. The restricting runes etched into them glowing, almost as a warning to not resist.

"Come along, fox."

Ornate guards with brutish demeanor were tugging him along, beckoning him out into the blinding sun of the court yard and up the steps of a large palace.

He followed with a look of indignity and a shimmering feeling of rage. He, the once mighty leader of the winter clan, a prisoner to humans. And being passed off like a trinket no less! The emperor who he had fought with managed to trick his way into the upper hand, and Fuyu had been captured. Taken cavity as a victory of his prize.

He was paraded around for a while as a show of the 'great emperor's might', kept in shabby livings and feed off scraps like some god forsaken beast that pompous gloat had tamed.

And now here he was, being given off as a token of 'peace' to some other noble. No doubt another cruel master for him to play trophy for.

As his eyes adjusted, he took the sights of his new 'home' in. Lavish does not do justice to the finery that can be seen even along the front steps into the palace. The stairs were finely crafted; with linings of gold to accent the soft color of the marble, all taking shape into something that mimicked a walk way lined with flowers. The grounds from what Fuyu could see were adorned with vibrant flowers to compliment the stairs.

And as he stepped inside, the finery did not stop. All neatly ordered walls a wash with tastefully placed art. Nothing too gaudy, but meticulous, thoughtful and most of all-- tasteful.

'Well--' thought Fuyu, 'at least this master has an eye for presentation.'

His mind cast back to the shear sickening slop job of decor his previous master had fancied. The most expensive pieces he could find strewn about with little thought or care other than to show off that he had the means to buy it. All money,no decorum.

Fuyu was marched through the halls, deeper into the heart of the palace, and with each new wing he past through, he noticed the themes shifted-- each wing it's own proud individual, but somehow still meshed seamlessly with the wings around it.

Truly the home of someone with genuine refinement.

Still, with each rattle of the chains that bound him, with each time they pulled against the sensitive parts of skin, he knew that this place would still be a prison, no matter how lovingly it was adorned.

As they went deeper, Fuyu heard music drifting in from a distance. And as they drew closer to it, he felt a weird sense of relief and fear. On the one hand, his new master seemed an artistic soul. On the other--- Fuyu was still bound in chains.

He almost felt as though he might be sick as the doors opened and gave way into a cozy yet spacious parlor.

"Your Grace, a present from the Emperor of the Southern Kingdom."

Fuyu was a bit shocked that the one who turned to respond to the guard was the figure who was at the piano. He was assuming that they were simply having someone else play to entertain them. Fuyu was also shocked at how they were shocked-- for when they turned around their expression went from curious and cheery to a look of disgust and confusion as their gaze fell upon him.

"Oh--" They rose and made their way towards Fuyu and the guards that surrounded him, "Oh my-- how.... lovely??" She looked down at him, looking unsure as to what to make of him. "He uh--- he sent... a man...?"

"There is also a letter your grace!" The guard stated, holding up a wax sealed letter and holding out for them. They did not take their eyes off Fuyu, still baffled of what to make of him.

He was just as confused. They seemed more shocked than anything. Were they not told he was coming. They still were looking him up and down as they opened the letter and unfolded it while matter,

"You poor thing, the state of you..."

They then turned their attention to the letter and began reading it's contents aloud,

"For the most Honorable Monarch of the North, I humbly submit this, my most prize position," they made a face reading over that last bit, "A Kistune of a felld tribe from the mountains. This beast has been my greatest triumph and now I share it with you. I thought it fitting seeing as yOU DON'T HAVE A SPOUSE?!" the indignity in their voice made it almost crack, "AND I HEARD THAT KISTUNE MAKE FINE LOVERS?! I PRESENT TO YOU THIS SPECIMEN TO TAKE AS YOUR CONCUBINE?! WINK WINK?!?!"

Well-- that was news to Fuyu as well. And guessing by how they are reading it, his new master finds the insinuation just as insulting as he does. He's not sure if he should be hurt by the fact that they are not honored to have a kistune such as himself as a prize, or relieved.

"HEARS TO LONG AND PROSPEROUS PARTNERSHIP, YOUR BUD THE EMPEROR!" They sighed deeply, pinching their nose "of all the... SERIOUSLY?! Who sends a person?!" they asked turning to their guards and Fuyu. "Unbelievable..."

They leaned down, taking a better look at Fuyu as he knelt before them. He was almost shocked how gentle their hand was as they inspected his grimy face.

"Poor thing... Look at how poorly he cared for you..." They noticed the chain around his neck. "Did he send a key?"

"Uh, y-yes your grace," the guard said, handing them the key as soon as they held out their hand for it, "but are you sure it's a good idea to--"

Click.

"There, that much feel better." They said, unlocking the collar and deactivating the runes. For the first time in a while, Fuyu felt the air on his neck. It almost was a shock how much of a relief it felt. He was still processing his thoughts as this new master held his hand up and unlocked one wrist, then the other. All the while he was taking in the sight of them-- their face was very warm and their eyes so gentle... this was-- definitely not what he was expecting... As they held his hand, they saw how raw the skin beneath those bindings had become.

"Oh, look at your poor wrists..." They leaned in closer and gently touched his neck, "oh, and your neck to--" turning to the guard, "bring me a healer. And tell them to bring dressing for wounds. And you," they gestured to another guard, have the staff draw a bath. He needs on," more examining of Fuyu as they ran their hand across his hair, "hmm-- and tell them to break out the good conditioner. Stand up for me please?" They gestured from him to stand and in a fit of confusion, Fuyu followed their orders. They guided him to spread his arms out and they took a good look at his form.

"Man you're tall... probably not going to have anything that will fit you that well... we're going to have to make due for now, but I'll send someone down to get your measurements after you're cleaned up. Oh, speaking of-- Rose," they turned to a maid who had been standing by in the corner, "have the house staff ready one of the guest rooms-- one of the larger ones."

Fuyu stood there still in shock. What was all this...? Now that all of the staff had departed to handle things, him and his new master were left alone.

"You must be hungry---" they walked over to a table and grabbed a tray of treats and brought it over to him, "Take your pick. Oh, but this is just to tide you over! Don't worry, we'll get a real meal into you of course!"

Their smile was so sweet. Fuyu still wasn't sure how to take this... was it a trick? Or some sort of ruse. He remained in a stunned silence as he looked at the tray, then back at them curiously.

"Go on!" They said with a bit of a laugh, "They won't bite!"

He sheepishly picked up some sort of baked good and started to nibble on it experimentally. It was strange... it had a pleasing enough smell but the taste was--- almost herby? But not quite an herb...

"It's lavender!" they chirped, "You don't have to eat it if you don't like it, it's not everyone's taste." It was now Fuyu's turn to give his new master a semizing glance. They were definitely... a lot better looking than his previous master. Though they were also much more confusing. Fuyu could handle cruelty-- that he was used to-- but such an out pouring of kindness? And to one who looked so feral as he must right now? This must be some sort of trick...

"And once we've got you cleaned and fed and clothed," they started, setting the tray down on a near by table, "we can begin to make arrangements to send you home."

Fuyu froze. In his shock he dropped what he was eating and stared at them wide eyed.

"Send... me--- you... aren't going to keep me?"

"Pff-- what? No!" they chuckled and walked towards him, "Dude, you have kidnap victim written all over you! I'm not going to keep you prisoner here!"

"But... that emperor..."

"Oh I'll just tell him you escaped. And if he tries to come find you-- I can always send you off with some form of protection! I know many a guy, we could probably hook you up with some kind of way to make you untraceable! Besides, your tribe must miss you!"

Fuyu felt a paign of sorrow and bitter rage that was capping a mild panic. After a long silence he finally growled out,

"My clan are all dead... I lead them to ruin like a fool... I have nowhere to go..."

The Monarch's expression turned sympathetic. They came up to Fuyu and took his hand in his.

"You can stay here. As long as you like. To save face, you can be a concubine, but in name only." They took the other hand, pulling Fuyu's attention to their face as they looked in his eyes and told him, "I will never make you do something you don't wish to do. You are free to do as you please here. No chains, no bindings. I promise."

Fuyu left his eyes watering. Such kindness, such mercy... it had been so long since he felt it, and he believed he did not deserve it. But he will accept it. He took their hand in his, lowering his cheek into their palm.

"Thank you..."

They simply smiled.

"Of course. If you're mine now, then I plan to treasure you. NOW! Let's get you washed up. And after that, I can show you my library if you'd like---I have all manner of literature-- you're free to go through it as much as you like of course-- and the--" Fuyu followed as he was dragged once again through the halls, though this time it was gentle and surrounded by excitable chatter.

He still didn't feel he deserved this, but maybe he could grow to enjoy being treasured...