#my brothers still tell me to go swimming more because i just have weak lungs…

[harleythealter]

Me: I shouldn’t go swimming if there’s chlorine in that pool because I’m allergic.

Every other person I’ve had this conversation with: Isn’t everybody allergic to chlorine?

Me: Well-

Every other person I’ve had this conversation with: -because it’s really bad for everybody.

Me: I mean that I’m really really allergic. As in I stop breathing and feel like I’m suffocating. It’s probably best if I stay behind and read in my room instead.

Me(alternatively): I actually mean that I have an asthma attack when I go in chlorine water, or when I enter a pool room, or when I walk past a swimming pool, even out in the open. I’m saying I can’t go with you if you decide to do that activity for your birthday/event/whatever.

Every other person I’ve had this conversation with: Oh… well maybe you shouldn’t come then.

Me: *fakes a smile and blinks a few times* I agree.

[f1-disaster-bi]

I just saw your send me asks post and I come bearing two ideas. Just choose which one you like more or none or both whichever rocks your fancy! I've just rediscovered your disabled lando au with Jenson and Seb as parents and it sounds so good! Do you have any more ideas for it? Maybe something where Lando experiences a setback when he's a bit older after he just got through quite a serious case of pneumonia and is still incredibly weak. Or on a happier note, Lando's first race where he can watch it with his dads and being a complete gremlin but so so loved by all the staff and drivers. The second idea is neurodivergent Lando: I don't know whether you would be interested or comfortable writing this but I really like your writing and would love to hear your thoughts. So I think racing would be his passion and when training and in the car he would always feel at peace and the most himself, but there are many aspects connected to f1 that he really struggles with. The constant swarm of people as well as the loud noises constantly. So I think noise-cancelling headphones and someone he knows close by (Jon my beloved) is a must. Also, Lando saying in interviews that he often wears sunglasses, even inside because he finds it too bright or always wearing hoodies because the material and fit feel a lot better to him. There are days where his sensory issues are less and days when they are a lot more prominent and I just love the idea of trainer/big brother Jon being the biggest support through everything and especially someone Lando trust wholeheartedly even when he doesn't feel good and his anxiety is bleeding through.

I absolutely adore the second idea, but it's been so long since I've gotten to think about of explore my foster child Lando/Disabled Lando au that I just can't not think about it now!

I hope these two ideas were what you were referring to ( one and two) what you were think of.

Lando having some complications as he grows older from the car accident when he was two that took his leg. Especially after how the orphange he was at often failed to bring him for check up's, so when Seb and Jenson adopt him when he's five-turning-six, they make sure to keep on top of everything. That's when they find out that Lando has some issues with his lungs because of the crash, and they often find themselves back in the doctor with colds and sore throats so they never turn into something worse

But when Lando is a little older, maybe ten, he starts to realise that people look down on him because of his prostetic leg. He realises other kids make fun of how he walksh and runs, how he gets so sick sometimes, and he just wants to be normal. He wants to be healthy, so when he starts to get a cough after going swimming with his class and someone dunking him under water a few times, Lando tries to hide it.

Seb and Jenson notice something is wrong but they think maybe it's the start of his pre-teen moodiness that he doesn't want to cuddle and watch movies or hang out with them in the evenings. They notice he's a little pale, but Lando brushes them off.

And then Lando collapses on the way out the door to school one day and Sebastian is in bits. Jenson was already gone for the gym, and Seb was doing drop off and he ends up calling Jenson from the hospital in a panic because "we missed it, he was in pain and we missed it". He'd feel so guilty, especially when Lando admits to everything, but first he was to endure his little boy needing surgery because his pnuemonia had collapsed his lung.

Lando wakes up to both his dad's holding his hands, just watching and waiting, and it makes him want to cry because he ws so scared the kids at school were right and that his dad's were tired of his disabilities but then Seb is there playing with his hair, kissing his forehead and whispering to him in German while Jenson kisses his hand and tells him he's safe and okay, and Lando knows his dads love him and feels so stupid for not telling them everything and doubting it

[inhuman-obey-me]

Deadly Envy

Word Count: 1.8k Description: Perhaps directing insults directly to the Avatar of Envy's face is a mistake -- or, Leviathan reminds some demons of their place. Part of the A Demon's Nature series. Finally got back to continuing this, so here's Leviathan! Apologies for the delay, hope this is okay;; Note: Vepar is a demon associated with the sea and is one of the 72 demons that Solomon has a pact with, mentioned in the Ars Goetia. They were often depicted as a merman. Lassal is a minor demon named in the Liber de Angelis and is associated with the moon. Can also be found on AO3 here. content warning: blood, brute force violence, mild gore, use of hallucinogens

The Avatar of Envy was not one to find comfort in being alone with his thoughts, but there were times where he would wander to a certain cove by the oceanside, a place just for him where he found a sense of peace, a sense of belonging. The taste of salt in the air, the gentle spray of ocean mist, the sound of the waves crashing into the surrounding rocks -- yes, this was another home for him, one he dearly missed.

Leviathan closed his eyes, basking in the light of the Devildom moon as he debated going into the water tonight. It would be nice to go for a swim, but he was also itching to get back home and watch the latest episode of the anime he had recently gotten into.

“Well, well, who do we have here?”

Leviathan’s eyes snapped open, his body tense as he recognized the voice of the demon who unceremoniously interrupted him.

“Vepar,” the name left the sea serpent’s lips in a near hiss. “What are you doing here?”

“Why, enjoying the view this fine evening. I assume you’re doing the same? What a surprise, to see you actually outside! I thought you loved the computer screen more these days.” They laughed, a ripple of malice present in what should have been a joyous sound.

Of all demons, why did it have to be Vepar that had found his sanctuary? Every time Leviathan looked at them, or thought about them, envy bubbled in his chest and filled every fiber of his being.

Vepar had been one of the angels who fell alongside the brothers in the Great Celestial War - one of the few survivors outside of his family - and had been a rather high-ranking officer in the army at the time. After becoming a demon, they managed to become a Captain in Hell’s Royal Navy, following Leviathan as his subordinate. Or, that’s how it would have appeared, if it wasn’t for the fact that Vepar had seemingly lost all respect for their superior.

Their relationship was practically non-existent these days, as the Royal Navy hadn’t been active in centuries. They were never terribly close to begin with, but a great chasm seemed to have opened up between them as the years passed and Leviathan watched Vepar be so … successful.

How was it that this demon who ranked beneath him had managed to climb up so much higher in the social sphere? In true normie fashion, they had no issue conversing with strangers and seemed to make friends wherever they went. They were smooth with their words, charming with their smile, and always knew the right thing to say.

Except when it came to Leviathan.

“What’s with that look? I was just speaking the truth, wasn’t I?” Vepar grins, their mockery obvious. They brush a long lock of hair from their face before looking over their shoulder. “Oh, Lassal, look who I found!” They call out behind them, and soon another demon appears from the dark, his wispy white hair reflecting the moonlight. He was one of the lesser demons who seemed to cling to Vepar whenever they were together.

“Ah, Lord Leviathan..!” Lassal starts a bit nervously, unsure how to act in this situation. After all, he often joined in on the endless ribbing of the Avatar of Envy. The Greater Demon was never around to hear it, so what was the harm? “It’s, uh, nice to see you.”

“I was just telling him how strange it was to see him here. After all, I don’t think there’s a video game store anywhere near this area.” Vepar continues, the deriding smile still on his face. “Such a rare sighting of the ever-elusive demon. And all alone, too … but, I suppose it’s true that you don’t have any friends.”

Leviathan glares at the long-haired demon, his hands now curled into fists as they continue their jabs. Has he really become such a joke? Of course, a worthless otaku like me doesn’t deserve any respect, he thinks, They only care about my position when they have to…

“I would offer you to join us, but… hmm, you’d honestly just kill the mood.” Vepar shrugs, turning to Lassal, and attempts to get him to join in. “Isn’t that right? I mean, we all know how pathetic he is!”

The jealous thoughts continue to invade his mind. They only care because of my brothers. I’m obviously the weakest link, huh? Even Solomon liked Vepar enough to make a pact with them … they might be even better friends than we are …

“R-right!” Lassal easily bends to the other demon’s will. “Sorry, Leviathan, but you’re not really fun to have around.”

And then they feel comfortable enough to talk like this to me, to my face?! They have all the qualities I lack, everything is so much easier for them, and I’m just a laughing stock who only deserves mockery, huh? Is that it..?

“Oh, so polite. Come now, weren’t we talking earlier of how sad of a demon he is?”

“Yeah,” All nervousness is gone from Lassal, a rather smug expression taking over his features instead. “It’s hard to believe that he’s one of the demons ruling over us...it’s funny because even he knows how depressing he is, isn’t that right?”

They really think they’re so much better than me?!

“And to think, he’s Grand Admiral -- ”

“SHUT UP!” Leviathan finally speaks, his envy burning hot and turning into rage as he lunges at Vepar, his claws digging into their throat. “You actually think you can just talk to me like that?” His eyes shift, turning more snake-like while ink spreads through his sclera. His horns grow larger, his tail longer, and his teeth look a bit too sharp when he growls at them. “May I remind you that YOU serve under ME?”

A gargled choke manages to leave the caught demon’s mouth, their eyes wide in surprise. Lassal, who let out a squeak of terror when the third-born attacked, was trying to scurry away from the scene -- only to be caught by Leviathan’s tail in a tight grip.

“And where do you think you’re going?” The sea serpent shot a deadly glare at the lower-level demon, hoisting him up into the air to dangle upside-down. Leviathan turns his attention back to the other demon, trying to stop himself from ripping their head off right then and there.

“I might not be the most sociable guy, or the most popular, or the coolest, or … whatever! But if you really think you can just talk shit to my face and get away with it, you’ve got another thing coming.” His forked tongue slips through his lips with a menacing hiss. “It seems you both need a reminder that I’m the Third Demon Lord, your superior, your Greater, your ruler.”

“I-I’m sorry…” Vepar manages to get out, their previous haughty air vanishing as dread sunk in, a heaviness sinking into their bones. “I--”

“Oh, save your fucking apologies, Vepar!” Leviathan spits at their face. “If it wasn’t for your little pact with Solomon, I would kill you this instant.” He momentarily digs his claws further into their skin. “Your little friend, on the other hand…”

Lassal whimpers, trying to shake his head furiously. “P-please Lord Leviathan! I-I only said such things b-because Vepar made me! They -- “ His words are cut off with a choke as the Avatar’s tail tightens around their neck as Leviathan brings him close to his own face.

“Wow, throwing them under the bus? I guess I can’t expect anything more from the likes of you.” Leviathan sneers, the claws of his free hand going to drag down along Lassal’s face, venom leaving their tips and entering his bloodstream. With a flick of his tail he slams Lassal into the ground head-first, the jagged rock they were upon cracking slightly from the force. “If you thought I was going to go cry in my room because of your taunting, you were sadly mistaken.”

Lassal’s skull was fractured, blood dripping from the head wound caused by impact. If he was trying to say anything more, it came out in incoherent words and sounds, which soon turned into struggling screams. The venom that now coursed through his veins had a hallucinogenic quality that made the victim feel as if they were drowning, and it seemed to be working rather well. Leviathan thrashed him about again, making sure to smash his skull against the rock over and over and over and over and --

“Leviathan, stop! He’s dead!” Vepar screams, managing to get some more words out as the grip on their throat had slightly loosened while the Avatar was preoccupied with the other demon. Leviathan makes sure to deliver one more whack for good measure before dropping Lassal to the ground, his head smashed to bits and nothing more than a messy pile of bone, blood, and flesh.

“So he is.” His voice is cold, distant. His orange-purple eyes are glowing as he turns his attention back to the still living demon. “Now, as for you, Vepar… what was it that you wanted to say earlier? Something about how you couldn’t believe I could still be called the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy?”

“I-I didn’t say that, I just … look, I’m sorry, okay? You just a-appeared to have become so weak, you -- “

“...became an easy target?” Leviathan finishes their thought. “Well, let this be a lesson, Vepar. Think you’re better than me all you want, think you have so much more than I do, but at the end of the day…” He drags his claws down Vepar’s chest, sharp points sinking into their flesh and creating several large gashes that spurt dark ichor. They bite their lip in an attempt to hold back their cries of pain, tears streaming down their cheeks. “...I am at the top. I have more power than you do, and I will make sure that your existence will be a miserable one if you dare challenge me again.”

Mumbled words left Vepar’s lips, soon followed by a sharp cry when Leviathan sank his claws into their torso once more.

“What was that?”

“Y-yes Grand Admiral, sir. N-never again, sir!” The words tumbled out without a second thought, the demon trying not to let his body tremble too much from the mix of fear and pain.

“Good.” Leviathan retracts his claws and lets Vepar slump to the ground to their knees, his cold gaze lingering on them for a moment before looking over to the mangled corpse of Lassal. Turning away from the scene, Leviathan begins to walk away, raising a hand in the air.

“Clean that mess up.” He pauses, looking over his shoulder to fix the fellow sea demon a menacing glare. “And that’s an order.”

[kashimos-hajime]

no regrets (8/8) | r.b.

summary: For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Or, Reiner finally understands what peace is.

WARNINGS: MANGA SPOILERS!!! angst, mentions of violence, we get our happy ending :) pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 6.7k

a/n: welcome to the last chapter!! thank you so much for being on this journey with me. there are a few callbacks to previous chapters so see if you can catch ‘em all heheh 

masterlist

crossposted on ao3 x

Few months ago ymir asked if I could let her write one last letter to krista, and I did let her. I stood over her shoulder the whole time, watching her pen down all this sappy shit and I kept thinking about you the whole time, behind those walls. What you were doing, what you were thinking. Maybe if you thought about me. I dont know.

I’m starting to see the appeal of wrting what youre not strong enough to say to a persons face. I never thought Id find myself on the other end of this stick. for some reason, I thought that I could stop myself, resist the temptation, or maybe that I didnt feel for you as strong as I thought I did once I was away from you. I was wrong.

What do I even say? I mean shit, I can barely see, my limbs are barely in tact, and all of it—shiganshina, it haunts me, even though I cant really remember it that well. Half of it goes black and then I remember hearing your voice, I remember Bertholdt, I remember you screaming.

You couldve walked away. why didnt you walk away? It doesn’t make sens. Why did you think to cut me out? Why did you try to save me? Im trying to make it make sense inmy head. It’s not working.

Fuck I dont know what I was thinking when I asked for a paper and pen. Why am I asking you questions? Its not like ill ever understand. At this point, I think it’s pity thats letting Zeke let me waste ink on trying to write straight. He doesn’t know what im doing, but thats better this way. Better than sleeping—better than eating. I just wanna talk to you and this is as close as I can get. Its my own damn fault, but I dont care. 

I completed my mission. After this, im done. ill give up the rest of my term. I dont want any of that glory anymore. I dont want to be a hero. Im just done.

Fuck, my head hurts so much. I dont really know if what im saying is making sense. Im hoping you never read this.

im sorry. I wish I could explain it to you some day, but chances are, ill be dead soon. Whether for treason or because they need to pass on the Titan, and I wont be able to see you again. Which means youll never know how sorry I am. How much I

Thats okay. I dont think youd believe me now even if I did say anything.

I remember your dream to live by the lake with a bunch of kids. You know I started to wonder if youd mind if they were our kids, not just some orphans who needed a home. I’d imagine one of them with blond hair. Imagine them swimming in the lake.

Never told you that was my dream too. Never knew i could have a dream of my own, something only I wanted and not just something to further marleys damn agenda, til I knew you. Sounds stupid but its true.

I think youd like Marley, if we weren’t sworn enemies. Just want you here with me right now. make me sleep easier knowing you’re there when I wake up. 

Dont want secrets either. Fuck I miss you so bad. I feel s o tired all the time. 

I rember when i first saw you all could think about was how you were the most prettiest girl id ever seen. I don know if you know thats why I tried to distance myself. Knew I couldn’t get distracted from my mison. happened anyway. Wish I could tell you that. 

wish I could tell you I love you. Wish I could see the look on yur face when you try lobster for the first time. Youd love it. Not sweet, but tons of desserts here too.

Shit. And the ring on your finger. ill put a ring on your finger. I promised. i swear ill go home and buy a ring for the moment I see you again. Might not be pretty but will do the best I can.

Olnly wnat only wnat only want to see you again and beg for your forgiveness. Let you know if I had a choice, I wouldnt have done it. Would take it all back, nd stay. i wanted to stay, stay with you and the others. I used to want to spend the rest of my life in those walls, now I think im sick and tired of them dividing people who arent even that differnet.

My eyes are beginning to burn. Worse because the skin is sitll growing back. Fucking hell god I miss you. miss your smile more.

I know i dont deserve your forigvneess forgiveness. I want you to be angry with me. I deserve as much, and I cant ask you to, but 

With love,

Rienr

You fold the letter, eyes closing as your fingers trace where the ink bled, the old tear stains wrinkling the paper beyond measure. Some are older than others, and you trace over his name again, your eyes burning, your throat tight enough to suffocate.

You’re leaning against the wall as everyone disembarks. They had taken Eren off first, Hange and the others getting ready to depart for the city while Connie and Jean lift a covered stretcher too white for the vivacious girl that lays dead beneath it.

They pass you silently, and you catch sight of a certain captain approaching, his pale eyes nearly swallowed by the shadows haunting his face.

“Captain,” you say, straightening. Placing the letter back into the tin, you slide it back into your pocket as he folds a green jacket over his shoulder. You give him a nod.

“You made it out alive,” Levi observes. He stops beside you, eyes more focused on what’s ahead. No doubt he’s not looking forward to having to take Zeke to wherever he needs to go—somewhere far, far away from Eren. You cross your arms. 

“It’s good to see you, too, Levi,” you intone. Sighing, you step in beside him and look out at the Walls you can’t see in the distance, your entire body wrought with a strange fatigue that’s only sewn into muscles by adrenaline leaving the body. “I think I’m going to stay.” He tilts his head to you, eyes flickering to your face, and you mirror the shift, your arms tightening. “I can’t leave this unfinished. Not after Liberio.”

“The farm will have to be abandoned,” he points out. “The kids, too.”

“I’ll make sure I move them where someone can take care of them. Somewhere north, far away from the brothers,” you assure, although still, your heart begins to sink and you close your eyes, exhaling deeply. “I have to hope they understand.”

Levi only nods, and you open your eyes as he wordlessly takes the jacket off his arm and offers it to you. Grasping it wearily, you open your mouth to ask questions but he only sets off, back towards the cabin where Zeke is still being held, and you snap your jaws shut, looking down at the jacket.

When you unfold it, you swallow the hard rock in your throat at the blue and white slipping beween the folds of olive green before there’s a sharp whistle. Looking up, you see the carriages already beginning to load up, and you glance back at the door where the captain has disappeared through before jogging down the ramp.

You slither your arms through the sleeves and shuffle the fabric along your frame as something thumps against your thigh, and you frown, reaching down into your pocket and coming into contact with something smooth and hard.

Withdrawing, your lips part at the green bolo tie gleaming in the lights of the port and you, without another thought, pull it over your head, letting it fall against your breastbone. 

“For your services to the Survey Corps.”

There’s no time to second-guess now. No time to debate.

“Good to have you back,” Hange murmurs as you walk towards the carriage taking Mikasa, Armin, and the others back to the city. You tug the lapels of the jacket tighter around yourself and flash them a weak smile. 

The Wings of Freedom on your arm feel like a brand, and it prickles your skin as you climb in after them.

.

Distantly, he remembers flashes. 

Eren reaching forward for Zeke, the exhaustion ripping him every which way, the sound of ODM gear whizzing in his ears as he tries to make sense of the punctured sensation in his armour.

How he had softened his nape, intending to die then. At least, let his death have some meaning, he had thought. Let him make one last effort to repent for everything he did to Paradis, and to his friends who’d been more family than his own mother.

He slips in an out of consciousness for the next few days. He doesn’t know what is up, what is down, but he does recognize his surroundings blearily, the way his head spinning somehow slowing when he presses his temple to the wooden floor.

How can he almost hear your voice in the echoes of the panels, countered by someone who almost sounds like Annie before he drifts off again.

When Reiner finally regains consciousness again, he wakes to someone crouched down in front of him. Jerking up, he lets out a sound before a palm slaps over his mouth and your face is shoved against his own.

“Shut it,” you whisper fiercely. “It’s just me.”

Your name muffled by your own hand, his eyes begin to burn and you lift your palm away as he sits up and you draw back. You’re dressed in clothes that look like they’ve seen better days but you’re relatively uninjured as you pull back. New lines adorn your face—one of the many prices of their damned war—and you only look exhausted. 

Sitting up, Reiner’s whole body groans as he leans against the wall, but he can’t tear his eyes away from you. Your hands are hovering around his body like you’re scared he’ll collapse and there’s a fracture in your mask.

Something gleams on your finger and his eyes flit to it, his heart lurching when he realizes what it is.

The ring. You’re wearing it. You…

For a moment, a glimmer of their teenage selves shine through and he wants to reach for it—touch it so he can remember what it’s like to be happy. He thinks it’s an awful like now; the swelling of his heart so big he can’t breathe; the way his lungs are static in his chest; how he can’t say anything because there are so many words that want to come out first.

“You’re here. You’re alive,” he finally settles on raspily. Your eyes glint with a youthful pain as you nod.

“So are you.” 

And he doesn’t know who moves first—you or him. Nothing is forgiven as their bodies crash in an embrace that lacks grace, but they cling onto another like the world is ending and they’re the only ones left standing. 

Maybe they are.

He buries his face in your neck, and your arms are so tight around him your fingers dig into his shoulders as your body melts against his and his skeleton sags in his own body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your skin, eyes fluttering shut. “I‘m sorry.” A hand against your neck and an arm around your waist, he wraps his legs around your own and traps you against him. You seem to only sink into him even more.

Is that enough? I don’t want you to hate me.

You suck in a breath, and then it comes out shuddering. “You can spend the rest of what life you have left repenting for making me fall in love with a man who was always supposed to die.”

Softly, in his mind, your voice cools the searing heat of hatred inside him. It’s enough. It has to be.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. It’s like they’re the only words he knows. He can’t remember ever meaning it this much. For him dying, for making you love him, for ever coming to Paradis. For loving you. For loving you. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know. I know.” Your face turns to press against his own. Your lips brush against his jaw and his eyes slide shut, tears rolling down his face. “I read every single one of your letters.” Drawing back, you cup his face in his hands and your fingers smear his tears all over his cheeks as his palm rests against your neck. Thumb stretching up to touch your chin, he feels sobs shuddering in his throat at seeing you again—looking at him almost like you used to. “I can’t begin to understand, but I know you are. And I know you love me.”

Choking, he gasps, “You should hate me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I should.” You’re crying, too, voice thick, tears stubborn on your cheeks as you give him a watery smile. “I should hate Marley, too. But it’s beautiful there. The water by the sea… I want to be there with you next time. We need to go together, before you leave me alone, okay?”

Reiner doesn’t quite hear you. He hears Marley, and beautiful, and he’s never noticed how beautiful you are when you cry, but right now, it’s the simplest truth he knows. 

“Okay.”

When you tilt his chin up and kiss him softly, something inside him explodes from the gentleness that makes him want to crack in the palm of your hands. It sears him from the inside out, makes him grab onto you like you’ll disappear—this is another dream, isn’t it? 

It has to be. 

You can’t be kissing him again after four years. He doesn’t deserve it. You’re an illusion, something his mind made up to deal with the pain. He’s finally cracked for good, just like Bertholdt said he would, and he’s the devil, not you.

But then you pull away just for a moment to smile, eyes barely open as you look at him with a sad tenderness that wraps him in an invisible embrace, and he is faced with the heart-wrenching reality. 

The sky is falling, you are holding him tightly again, and they’ve lost their years. But you’re here. With him. 

He knows that this isn’t a dream as he feels the coolness of the silver band on your finger and the heaviness in how he knows he hasn’t repented a damn thing. 

Why him?

As you run your hand through his hair, you press their foreheads together.

“And I do want a family with you, by the water if you’d like,” you murmur fleetingly against his mouth and his eyes widen, cheeks burning, entire face crumbling as he turns his face in to your shoulder, crushing you in another brace. Sobbing into your neck, his fingers dig into your shoulders, wrap tight around your waist, squeeze you so close he isn’t sure where you end and he begins and your lips brush the shell of his ear. “Reiner, say it.”

“Please,” he whispers thickly into your skin, and you cradle the back of his head with a hand. He’s nothing more than shambles. “Please, don’t go.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” you promise. His breath is hot against his own face as you pull his head back and cradle his face again, thumbs brushing away the tears from his red face. “Just a bit more. A bit more and then it’ll be all over, you know?”

And he understands, then, what you want from him. Struggling for breath, for his lungs to stop seizing in his aching chest, he cups your face that turns into his palm on instinct, your face wet with your own tears as, for a moment, they try to pretend this isn’t where they really are.

Like they’re still in that afternoon in Trost, a thousand years ago, with the kids flipping coins into the water fountain and a cream bun between them. Like they’re under the tree, apple juice on your wrist and his lips on yours.

Like it’s those trips to the city, the walks on the Walls. Honey is dripping down your chin and he’s pretending he doesn’t want to kiss you, or there’s grease smeared on his forehead, and you’re reaching up to wipe it off his skin.

Like a thousand moments all at once, and he nods to himself as you brush your hand over his temple. The world outside is startlingly quiet, as if the universe itself stopped everything itself to watch this moment, and Reiner takes a breath that bruises his sternum before he’s holding your left hand where that ring still sits.

And slowly, he pulls it off, whispering as firmly as he can. He’s sure he fails—he’s shaking all over from your presence alone.

“When this is over, I’ll put that ring back on your finger. I promise.”

The smile that splits your face is dazzling. It’s the smile he’s missed since the day he left it.

“We have a lot of things to work out, Reiner Braun.”

And your fingers barely brush his jaw before you’re leaning to press a sweet kiss against his mouth. It’s sugary on his tongue, like honey and apple slices.

.

Your back is warmer when you’re pressed up against Reiner’s. The ship is quiet, and their pinkies are just barely hooked on oen another’s as you stare blankly at the empty space between Connie’s boots. You don’t speak, and Reiner’s gaze is only on you. He can’t look at anything else now that you’re back by his side again.

There’s a cut on your cheek from the fight just half an hour ago, and there’s dried blood along your hands where your knuckles had split open, but everyone seems too exhausted to clean themselves up. 

Reiner himself has a blanket pulled over his shoulders, and he sighs, slouching in his own sack of flesh.

Your head tilts towards him, enough that your temple presses against his cheek. His eyes close and he leans into your touch. Not a word passes by, but their hold on each other’s hands tightens. And Reiner thinks. 

For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Something that hasn’t burned since he left Marley as a child.

Reiner thinks he doesn’t want to die anymore. He doesn’t want to miss you for another moment.

.

Raising from the steam, you groan, your hands searing from the inside out as you touch your face where you swore every inch of your skin had been stretched, but nothing seems out of sorts as you glance around. Everywhere, all your friends who had turned just as you had are in various states of disoriented. The air is still hissing, crackled with surprised screams and shouts of names as people look for one another across the field. 

It smells like cooked meat and burnt hair, a none-to-pleasant mixture that turns your stomach.

Getting to your feet, you wipe at your face, trying to ignore the weird feeling underneath your nails and the ache seizing your muscles. Trying to ignore the remnants of Eren lingering like a ghost that won’t really leave you alone. You shiver, and a strange cold sweat takes over your body.

He had taken you to the sea, except it wasn’t the shore you were familiar with. There was a cabin nearby, with blonde children running, chasing after one another and a man with golden hair standing on the porch, firewood in his arms as he calls out silently. Or maybe you had been standing too far to hear.

“Eren… where are we?”

“Wherever you think you are,” he had said. “I just brought you where you wanted to be.”

A voice, quiet as a memory, catches your attention. “Here let me help.” A soft wind blows throw the mist, cooling your scorching face as you feel a presence stand behind you.

“Oh, thank you.” You look over your shoulder to see a tall boy, and your heart stops. Mouth dropping open, you stare at his foggy image, but he only smiles fully, a smile so tender it reaches every corner of you as you stumble forward, fingers stretching for him. “Bertholdt!”

His smile grows only that much more, eyes squinting a bit and a flash of teeth before he’s looking at your hand that passes through his chest. All at once, all the hope built up in your chest crumbles, and your hand snaps back, trembling just before him. He lays a hand over your own and your eyes begin to burn, tears slipping down your cheeks.

And then, softly, you barely whisper, “I miss you.”

Bertholdt’s smile merely grows, as if to say everything he couldn’t say before. As if to show he’s at peace now—that your last memory together isn’t every part of him, and your lips press together, trying to stop yourself from shaking.

 Shadows form in the fog, and together, the two look as a freckled boy and another girl steps out of the mist a distance away, beaming like the sun. Connie and Jean stagger to their feet just behind you, and your heart lurches into your throat when you recognize them.

“Marco! Sasha!”

Someone calls your name and you turn around just as arms scoop you up and you let out a surprised noise before settling into Reiner’s arms. Looking over your shoulder to look at Bertholdt, your heart only sinks.

He smiles and Reiner lets out a sharp breath beside you, settling you down. “Bertholdt…” More shapes emerge. A shorter boy accompanied by another taller one, both alike in their features. You recognize one as the Jaw Titan holder before Falco, but the other—

“Marcel!” Reiner chokes out the name, hand stretching out to the fog, but the boy merely tilts his head and waves.

Closing your eyes, hot tears streak over your cooling flesh as you fling your arms around Reiner again and press your face into his neck. He cradles the back of your head, and he feels… somehow weaker, but still, there is that impassable strength in his core that wraps around you as he watches over your shoulder, still clinging on despite your clothes hot enough to burn.

I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive. It’s the only thought in your head. Your last clear memory had truly been the others taking flight, and the pain that had ripped apart your body before sewing it back together again in unjust proportions. Your limbs had been too big, your blood racing too warmly through your head as your legs pumped but your brain screamed to stop. 

Your fingers had sank into Reiner’s legs to pull him down and you had watched—watched Jean take a bite out of him—

You shiver and Reiner’s arms tighten around you instinctively, constricting enough to let you know that his attention isn’t on you quite yet.

Boots shifting on the ground tentatively, your knees feel gummy as you draw back long enough to look at him. He still looks over your shoulder, and you follow his gaze to watch the mist retreat. Bertholdt and the other two boys fall into a pool of fog, and your lips part in a farewell, but it’s already too late.

He’s gone.

A wind sweeps through the battlefield, tickling your sweating neck and cooling your boiling blood.

“Hey,” a soft voice croaks.

Their eyes meet in tandem. He regards you softly, like you are the reason the sun rises and the stars hang at the sky. Overwhelmed, you can only cup the back of his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. Your other hand along his jaw, it takes all you can not to pull him into a bone-crushing embrace that’ll send them both to the ground.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you whisper hushedly against his mouth, throat swelling as he lets out a soft noise of surprise as you pull him into another tight hug. You don’t care that you’re crushing him, just that his heart is pounding against your own chest. “I couldn’t stop myself. I’m so sorry.” 

His eyes widening, he wraps his hands around your wrists and pulling you back just enough to kiss your fingers that crumple against his mouth. Clasping one of his hands in both of your own, you close your eyes and he uses his free fingers to brush the tears off your cheek before reaching into some dented tin you don’t recognize.

Eyebrows furrowing, you feel the heat leave your entire body, sapping your energy too, and your eyes snap to Reiner who steps back, cracking it open and presenting it to you. 

“You’re not the one who has to be sorry. I don’t think I’m the Armoured Titan anymore,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I get the rest of my life back, but either way, I want to spend the rest of it repenting to you in any way I can, if you’ll allow me to.” A weak smile. “Truth.”

Your throat closes up, and you stare down at the ring so protected, gleaming despite the destruction around them. It looks almost out of place amongst the grime smearing your skin, the sweat drenching their skin, the smell of blood and metal clinging to their clothes, but Reiner only watches you with a tenderness you can barely meet. It’s so overtly overflowing with devotion that your heart is resting on your tongue, seizing control of everything. 

You barely nod, chewing on your lip, trying not to cry even harder as his eyebrows rise in relief and he lets out a long sigh.

He lifts the ring out of the tin, snapping it closed before sliding the band back home onto your finger and all at once, everything floods you. The exhaustion, the pain, the hunger, thirst, grief wrapping around your bones and chaining you to the ground.

It’s over.

The minute he put the ring on your finger, it would mean it was over. No more blood, no more fighting.

Just like he promised.

You barely croak out his name before you fall to your knees. You trust him to catch you, and he does.

[THREE YEARS LATER]

Just after the Rumbling had stopped, you had gone back to Paradis alone and came back with three children to a man who was still uncertain in a world that was changing. 

Since then, you’ve learned so much about the world, about yourself, about Reiner. 

How he’s seized by night terrors even now, just like you, and how one thing that soothes it is going out for a walk while the sun still simmers below the horizon, the sky a dark navy blue spliced with orange rays. The intricate details like him making a point to tie his own tie because his father never taught him how or the way he has to chug his coffee so he has enough energy to get through the day.

And some days are horrible, haunting, but now, it is far outweighed by the good. He teaches Xav how to dress smart, takes the girls out shopping. Sometimes, he’s spotted around Liberio with a flame-haired boy riding his shoulders, you trailing behind hiding a smile behind some ice-cream.

Different nations, foods, cultures surround you now—citizens of countries coming to settle down roots, spread cuisine to Marley. The idea before, of humans so different than you but still similar at the root of it all, existing, still blows your mind. The technologies that you had never seen before, languages you’d never heard, sights you’d never seen, had all swarmed you as you stepped into a new world with him.

But there is always one thing you’ll come back to.

Leaning against the railing in the port city Reiner told you was the harbour he had left twelve years ago, and returned to seven years ago, you watch the clouds travel in slow drags across the pale blue canvas hung high above your head. The water spans for as far as you can see, glimmering under the sun and gorgeous enough to take your breath away. You pull at your coat across your chest absently, ignoring the tender growl of your stomach. 

Breathing in the salty wind, you feel your chest expand at the litle fishing boats a little ways out.

Reiner was right. You don’t get sick of the sea. You never will—not of this much water. You still remember the first time you had swam in it, the salt-water making your hair crisp, the cold sweat forming on your your sun-warmed skin.

You feel a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, you spot blonde hair and warm eyes and smile. Your heart flutters a bit. You shift on your feet.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Reiner leans down beside you, and you clasp your hands, letting the sea wind curl against your neck. Reaching to slip his hand in between yours, he sighs and you lean against his shoulder, glancing at their pile of interlaced fingers. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” you whisper, although even still, you can feel a numbing at your fingertips. You remember what it was like to be a Titan, even now. The sensations haunt you—flashes of your own mutated body, the grotesque meat of your hands sinking into the ankles of the man beside you, the bloodcurdling roar spilling out of your throat.

Glancing at their fingers, you watch the flashes of silver of the rings play in the sunlight, your band now having a matching counterpart on his own hand. You grasp his hands tightly, bringing them up to your lips and his own grip tightens when you dust a kiss gently along his scarred knuckles.

“No,” you finally say at length. “I’m not okay. Going back to Paradis makes me nervous as hell, but we’ll manage.” He nods slowly, and you let go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck. His own encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him and your eyes close at the familiar warmth—a warmth you’ve woken up next to most days for the past three years. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he murmurs, and your fingers play with the soft edges teasing at your pads as his nose presses against your cheek. Your eyes flutter at the soft heat emanating from his skin, and you shake your head, melting against him. With one arm still around you, he slants his body away from just enough to pull a bag out of his pocket and it crinkles as he hands it to you. Taking it, you frown and look inside.

A cream bun. You can’t help the crumbling in your expression and Reiner holds your face in his hands carefully, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Let’s stay positive,” he whispers. “We don’t know the situation until we get there and Historia briefs us.”

“I know,” you whisper and his entire expression eases at your words. His eyes gaze at you as if you’re the sole centre of his universe, and he cups your jaw more insistently, pulling you in for a gentle kiss, one you ease into, your eyes fluttering shut as his tongue traces the seam of your mouth. Laughing, you feel his little nose scrunch and your heart bounds up into your throat as he pulls back only to kiss you again, softer this time.

“Get a room!” A sharp female voice ruins their moment and you pull back just enough to see a red-headed boy running towards them and Reiner crouches down just in time to scoop Xavier up.

“When are you getting married?” he demands. “I was promised cake when you guys got married.”

“I dunno. When you move out of the house I guess,” you tease and Xavier pouts, rubbing at the side of his nose with the heel of his palm.

“Besides, you got cake for your seventh birthday, buddy,” Reiner groans as the boy twists in his arms. “You’re getting heavy. What are you feeding him?” he adds, smiling roguishly at you and you roll your eyes as Alina and Anya approach, sun hats protecting them from the glaring sun. Alina, grocery bags in hand, waves. Anya, who’d been the one to shout, tucks her coin purse back into her bag before flashing you a great big smile.

Only fifteen and seventeen. You can barely recall what it’s like being that young anymore, but you’re grateful they didn’t spend it the way you did. They get to know beauty, and no limits at all. The former comes naturally, the latter is partially because Reiner spoils them rotten.

Alina picks a flower with velvety purple petals from a bouquet she cradles in her arm, extending it to you.

“For good luck,” she says. “And protection.” Your heart melts at her words and you pause for a moment, looking from the gorgeous bloom to Reiner, occupied with the boy in his arms making silly faces at him. Then, without another moment, you sneak the flower behind his ear and he reaches up immediately to hold it against his head, turning to you in surprise. 

“To protect the both of us,” you explain.

“Thank you. I’ll be extra careful now.” He looks at the girls, setting his free hand on Alina’s head heavily and she flushes, smiling grandly. “You three behave while we’re gone, alright?”

You nod. “Listen to Levi.” 

“And listen to your sister,” Reiner adds to Alina and Xavier. The former rolls her eyes, the latter sticks out his tongue. “I’ll miss you.”

This is their home—their family that tumbles together into a huge hug, and you can’t help but stand back, watching how they all seem to merge into one unit, unaware of where one part of their reach ends and another begins.

As Reiner pulls you into the hug, your heart soars through your body, effortlessly pounding in your throat and in your fingers and everywhere at once. Liquid heat pools everywhere as Xavier screws up his face when you kiss his cheek, the same way Reiner does after he’s eaten something sour.

And maybe it’s a bit different, or a bit broken, the shards of their bloody history still poking at their heels whenever they think you’ve forgotten them, and it’s most definitely not perfect, but you would rather have it like this then anything else.

“Hey, guys!” Breaking apart, the family look over to see Armin, Annie, and Pieck walking over. Gabi and Falco meander a little bit behind, pushing Levi in his wheelchair, and Jean and Connie are running not far behind them, shouting at one another. You stifle a laugh and Xavier shimmies out of Reiner’s hold to run towards them. The girls follow after him, trying to hold back their runs but the closer they get, you can tell the more frantic they are to say goodbye.

So this is what they’ve made a peace. Something, you hope, is good.

Annie bypasses them quickly, making her way over to you and you survey her face as Reiner squeezes your shoulder, walking over to their friends. Her blue eyes are fixed on your face, and you feel your lips curving into a smile as she shoves her hands in her pockets. Her hair is swaying in the wind, gleaming flaxen, and you remind yourself, not for the first time, that Armin and Annie’s kids, if they ever decide they want them, will be gorgeous.

Hope for the future, and all that.

She stops in front of you, tucking a strand behind her ear.

“So,” she says at length, “we’re going back to Paradis. I’m surprised you decided to come with us. You don’t owe any of us anything.”

“I know. But… you’re my best friend. You do the talking, I fly the getaway plane, right?”

“Yeah. There used to be a time when it probably would’ve been the opposite.”

You nod, and they stand in silence for a moment, watching each other. Two women who should not have been friends, but were against all odds. You don’t think you would be here today if it weren’t for Annie.

Your heart lurches and you take a step forward just as she does, her mouth open to say something. You throw your arms around her and she lets out a noise in surprise as you close your eyes. Arms coming underneath yours, her hands dig into your shoulders and you smile against soft hair as she sighs, easing into your hug.

“Finally working together on an actual assignment,” you mumble and her head tilts as her small frame shifts, a hand patting you on the back as a sign for you to back up. “Just like we always said we would.” 

Bluntly: “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“You, too.” Pulling back, the two look at one another for another soft moment before you remember the bag in your hand and you shift the bun up in the bag, extending it towards her. “Want some?” Her eyebrows rise in faint delight, before she’s reaching over, pinching and tearing a piece off. 

You grin and do the same and you gesture for her to come stand by the rails with you, stuffing the bag into your coat pocket. Leaning against the warm metal again, you hear a seagull call. The plane you’ll be flying to Paradis floats on the water, the technicians giving it the final check before you take off.

If anything goes wrong while you help prepare and oversee accommodations for the rest of the ambassador group, you’ll remember to fire the black signal flare, but you trust Historia. You trust your friends.

You glance over at them, all laughing, and you notice that the flower has gone from Reiner to Pieck, who’s taking it out of her dark hair to tuck it into Jean’s, and his cheeks redden as he brushes it more securely behind his ear.

Annie catches your attention again, pointing out idly that they’ll have to separate soon when they finish with the plane, and you tell her to just wait a couple minutes more as Reiner catches your gaze. Setting Xav, who has somehow wormed his way back into his arms, down, he walks back over to you, and his hand trails purposefully over your back before resting at the nape of your neck, a reassuring weight on your body.

“You guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Annie replies. “You have a clingy boyfriend,” she tells you. 

“I think it’s charming.”

She rolls her eyes. Reiner smiles, and you pat the railing beside you—silent invitation. He leans in on your other side, clasping his hands and watching the fishermen pull themselves to shore, singing a tune to each other—one familiar to all three of them and one that you wish you could get out of your head. 

“Soon may the Wellerman come…”

A faint breeze tickling at your fingertips as a sharp call for embarkment splits the harbour, you simply sigh and look over at Reiner. “I just want these last few moments to last.” His eyes meet yours, and he leans forward to press a kiss between your eyes. Annie lets out a soft noise of disgust and you bump your hip against her as Reiner pulls back.

Closing your eyes and lifting your head to the wind, you can almost imagine the one person missing standing on the other side of Annie, dark hair like spun, stained bronze and eyes like warm chocolate. He’d smile and tell them not to worry in that sincere way of his that makes you believe every word he says—as long as they were careful, they wouldn’t walk into any traps.

Your chest aches, and your lips tug into a heart-wrenching smile as you begin to sing along. Reiner slips a hand in between yours, pressing his temple against your head and you loop your other arm through Annie’s.

She rests her head on your shoulder, listening to your voice, eyes on the sailors bringing in their haul below them. Reiner hums the shanty softly, distractedly, eyes cast across the sea.

You tilt your head up to the sky, at the stars you cannot see but will join one day, and smile.

[arcadejohn127-9]

How the brothers would pull a belphie chapter 16 with MC:

AU: brothers take belphies place as the human hating demon

Warning: gore, blood, angst, violence, death, dark themes, murder

Lucifer:

You first found him in a secret passage way, when you first stumbled upon Satan finding it he ordered you to never go near it

But you were drawn to it; either out of pure curiosity or the voice that called for you

There's were you met him; Lucifer, he was annoyed when he told you his story - how Satan locked him up, how he mourned as Satan was like a son to him not just a brother

You felt awful! So you agreed to help and get him out

it was finally the moment! Lucifer was free, he could finally escape this damn study. He looked at you with a proud smile, gesturing for you to come closer.

He was sitting in his office chair; it looked as if he was struggling to finally leave the room. You could only assume due to being in there for so long he's grown attached to his condiment; you offered him a knowing smile.

"Would you mind letting me have a moment on indulgence? Before I finally face them - I wish to just hold you, it's been so long since I've had anyone around me."

You were surprised to see his demon form for the first time. Marveling at how beautiful it looked. it fit him perfectly.

you happily agreed but became bashful when he patted his lap. You hesitantly sat on his lap and he adjusted the both of you, he wrapped his arms around you. You gave him a gentle pat on his head, unsure what to do.

Your back Slightly curved when his hand trailed up to behind your neck.

"so easy, you're not the brightest human, are you?"

You didn't even get time to process his words; your head suddenly yanked back. You hissed as it smacked on the desk behind you.

"I'm ashamed this is what Diavolo comes up with when I'm not around but you were helpful to me in some parts - I'll atleast thank you for that."

you whimpered as his hand wrapped around your throat. Tears building up in your eyes as you tried to squirm. But your awkward position and banging headache was blurring your hopes; your head felt warm. It felt wet.

Just from that one attack alone you were already bleeding. Your heart was racing as he squeezed harder. You choked on air as you frantically moved, trying to pry his fingers away but it was to no use.

He hummed, displeased. He slammed your head back down on his desk giving you a moment to breathe but the air was knocked out of you as soon as it came back. Only a squeak of pain left your throat. Your eyes rolling back as pain consumed you.

His hand returned to strangling you and finally, your vision went black.

Mammon:

He was locked away in the garage at the back of the dorm

You didn't even know there was actually a back until you saw Lucifer go there

Your first impression on the demon wasn't exactly great - he was tooting his own horn abit too much for a guy locked up

But turns out, he was desperate to be let out and finally just be with his brothers again - he asked about Levithan alot

He looked so.... broken

You wanted to help him as much as you could and agreed to his plan

You squealed with excitement as the door opened. You rushed towards mammon, thrilled to finally be able to come properly face to face with him. The demon was grinning ear to ear as he whisked you off your feet, thanking you.

"you're a real one! I couldn't of done it without ya, human."

He finally put you down, you were laughing. Your eyes closing for a moment as you felt slightly dizzy from his excited spinning.

"That's why I feel somewhat bad for what I'm about to do to you."

Huh? You opened your eyes to give him a questioning look but it was too late. You didn't have time to realize he was now in his demon form.

You were booted to the floor, his foot slamming down on your chest. You let out a yelp of pain as you gasped in shock. He crouched down, balancing his arm on his knee. Looking down at you with a tilted head, his shades rolling down his noses just slightly.

"I'll be nice to ya, you were kind to me afterall, Its time I repay my debt."

you screamed; hoping someone would hear you but he just covered your mouth with his hand. His nails digging into your cheek and jaw, squeezing it tighter the more you panicked. Soon it turned into screams of pain as he just watched you thrash, still grinning.

Your jaw crunched under the sheer power of his hand. Blood shooting out as your jaw unhinged. Tears falling down as you lost consciousness; it was a miracle you still had that drop of life still in you. But that inch of life faded as he stood back up; slamming down his chest as hard as he could down on your heart.

Levithan:

He was downstairs, locked away in this giant indoor pool area

No comfy bed to sleep in....nothing to do

He kept calling Everyone, including you, Normies and seemed to not even want to be around people

But then you kept visiting, learning he just wanted to play video games with his brothers again and be able to see performances with fellow otakus

He was just alone in that room

It was a no brain-er that you agreed to help him escape

Finally! It was open! He was free!

He leaned on the floor above the pool, shock on his face as the door finally opened. You grinned as you jogged over to him. thankfully, he was wearing some swim shorts and a shirt.

You were so happy to finally be able to meet levithan properly. You sat down just Infront of him.

"you opened it-! You actually did it! You've unlocked the dungeon and ready to face the final boss."

You laughed, questioning the 'final boss'. Unsure who he could be referring to. He sprung at you, revealing his demon form and yanked you into the pool.

As soon as your head went under the water you tried to get back up but he grabbed your head, forcing it to stay under. You kicked and threw your arms but nothing was working. Your brain was burning up from all the questions and screaming it was doing.

Your neck was straining from how much it tried to lift upwards. Desperate to get above the water but he held your head down. It was too late, before you knew it you body moved out of pure instinct. It gasped for air.

You screamed as water filled your lungs, thrashing more desperately as your tears mixed with the water. Your eyes burning as he grumbled.

"didn't you learn anything? Don't trust demons."

That was the last thing you heard before your body stopped moving.

Satan:

Locked away upstairs in a mini library, an old sofa as his only bed

His snap from "please help me" to pure rage scared you - all because you brought up Lucifer

But you're dumb with curiosity and went to see him again, he apologized for his behaviour and told you his story

He sadly had a constant rage due to his sin like his brothers and for it, they locked him up like some dangerous beast

He was so miserable and ashamed of himself - so guilty for something he couldn't even control or get rid of

He was nice to you and was shown to care about others, why wouldn't you help him?

When the door opened it was a surprise to you both. Satan put down his book, keeping it in his grasp. You smiled at him and he returned it. He was happy to finally be free, being the first to move and give you a hug.

"It's almost pitiful how you lack a sense of danger, you've let yourself be in the arms of a beast."

You wanted to say something, to deny such a claim as you trusted him but it was all discarded as you let out a loud yelp. You pushed yourself away from his crushing hug, nervously looking at him as you backed away.

"ah, so you do notice me as a threat but it's abit late for that now, isn't it? You're already in here with me."

Satan threw his book, it hit you square in his face. You hissed in pain before screaming, he yanked you by the head to be further inside the room. Angered by your stupidity and begging; he thrusted his knee into your gut, repeatedly.

You coughed up blood as you sobbed. He threw your body to the floor, climbing ontop of you. You kept begging him to stop, unable to get away.

He clawed and punched your face, never stopping even when his arms ached. His anger blinding him as he tore at your body, slamming his bloodied fists down on your chest and grabbed at your head.

You were barely breathing when he slammed your head into the floor. A wheeze of breath leaving you after every blow. Your blood covered his torn knuckles, pooling around your head and running down your chin. Your ribs were broken and so was your nose. Your jaw felt like it was barely hanging on to itself.

He only stopped minutes after you stopped breathing.

Asmodeus:

He was hidden away in the greenhouse, unable to escape

When you met him he was so anxious to even show his face, telling you to look away to his ugliness

You learn he's very obsessive about his looks and being unable to properly care for his skin was eating at him BADLY

he was so desperate

Though he seemed surprised you didn't seem effected when you looked into his eyes

He told you he wanted to see his brother Satan the most, he raised the little demon himself when Lucifer couldn't

You felt like you had to help him, this wasn't a man who deserved to be locked up - so you agreed to his plan

He sprung up in surprise, standing besides the small mirror in his cell. You cheered out his name and he ran towards you.

Nuzzling your cheek with his own as he hugged you tightly. Peppering your cheek with kisses as he repeatedly thanked you.

"ah~! My knight in shining armour! But, sadly this is where your heroism ends."

You gasped as slammed you to the wall, gently shushing you as you trembled. His hand was on your chest, over your heart, his eyes scanning your face down to where his hand was.

"humans are all so ugly....but I bet your heart is beautiful, don't cry - it's bad for your skin, just let me see how beautiful you can be."

He wiped your tears, adjusting you so he could keep you pinned to the wall. Licking his lips as he grew fidgety. You were hoping for a chance of mercy; squeaking out a weak plea for him to stop. Begging for his compassion, demanding for a reason for his betrayal. You were going through the stages of grief in mere seconds. He watched you with delight as he giggled.

He caressed your cheek, giving it one last nuzzle, his demon form appearing before you before plunging his hand into your chest. You gurgled on your blood as you trembled - your body going into shock as he marveled at the feeling of your heart. Still not taking his hand out, he cooed at how soft you felt.

Your body slumped not long after but he still went through with it, yanking out your heart and watched it beat for a few mere seconds.

Beezlebub:

Locked away in the in the indoor gym, downstairs

How Lucifer hid his monstrous appitete from everyone was magic itself

He immediately asked you about his twin, belphegor - was he sleeping okay? Was he holding up well?

He seemed so cold but as soon as he started talking about his twin you saw just soft he could be

He told you Lucifer locked him up here due to his gluttony, teaching him restraint

He told you how hungry he was, he was starving

Whenever you visited you'd bring him food - the door itself you were able to touch so it was just being careful when passing it through

You felt bad for him, his stomach always growling and he always wanted updates on his brothers well being

You weren't going to let him just sit there and starve! You agreed to help him escape

It was finally time. He looked up at you, a pout on his grumpy face and a hand on his stomach. His eyes immediately scanned any sign of food but you were empty handed; he looked at your face as you stared at him in shock.

He walked over to you, a smile stretching out on his face before pulling you into a hug. You cried out with joy as you immediately hugged him back, nuzzling into his chest. He lowered his head, hiding it in your shoulder and gave your neck a few sniffs. You stiffened at his actions but tried to not think too much of it.

"I'm so hungry....you smell delicious....you should of known this would of happened."

You let out a noise of confusion and shock. Pushing yourself away from him but his hold on you was too tight. You hastily tried ducking under his arms but he only squeezed you tighter. His tongue running up your neck as if to taste you. You whimpered and shivered as your body shook, begging him not to hurt you.

"it's because of humans I failed Someone I love, if it weren't for you - she wouldn't be dead! Stop squirming, it'll make it less painful."

You screamed as his teeth sunk into the space between your shoulder and neck, ripping at the flesh. Blood spraying everywhere as he finally ripped the chunk off. Your watery eyes began to roll back; the last thing you could see clearly was his usual grumpy face. That stoic cold expression staring at you as your blood covered half of his face, he chewed on your flesh before offering his puppy like smile.

He kept going back to take bites, wanting to finally fulfill his long lasting starvation; you were already long gone and unable to cry for help.

[animeyanderelover]

You said you're gonna open requests for a short time today, so are they opened now? Feel free to ignore this if they're not opened yet. Can I request prompt 109 with Kanato please?

You sent them in in the right timing, don’t worry.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationship, unhealthy mindset, possessiveness, obsessiveness, bipolar behavior, chocking, screaming, pushing, violence, vicious behavior

Prompt 109: “I know she’s cute. BUT SHE’S MINE! TOUCH HER AND I’LL KILL YOU!!”

The air had had turned all so sudden so incredibly suffocating, way more than you had ever expected it to be. And given the fact that you had experienced something like this already so often, way too often, it led your lips to wobble and your knees to nearly give in. All you really could do in that moment was staring with wide and teary eyes at the purple-haired boy who was just standing in the doorframe, a weirdly unreadable expression on his face. It made all the nerves in your body go crazy. This wasn't good. He was quiet! Way too quiet for his character. There was no rage, no anger nothing in his eyes. Why was he so emotionless? Shouldn't he be yelling, screaming, hurting someone right now?

Chances were that he would let his ire out on you, something you were terrified off. You hadn't forgotten the last time you had left him unsatisfied and jealous. Your body hadn't forgotten it either, the bruises still not fully healed. Backing away wasn't a good idea either or else you would bump into his brother Ayato. Both were currently doing some sort of glaring contest, Ayato having narrowed his eyes in an annoyed manner and Kanato still having this frightening hollow and penetrating look in them. And you poor victim found yourself stuck between those two, feeling like you were just dust right now since no one of them was currently even noticing your presence. But you didn't dare to move, if you were honest you couldn't even. Your body was neglecting you the ability to move, your instincts clearly stopping you from pulling the attention back on you.

The fact that no one had said anything for a while was even more nerve wrecking, it made it harder to judge what they would do next. All you could suspect was that they might just start attacking each other without you even having time to react. It was so unbelievably silent that you could hear everything right now, thw wind blowing outside the window, the slight breathing of Ayato and Kanato and most of all your own heartbeat which was drumming like crazy against your chest. Could they hear it as well? In your opinion it was painfully loud, but it seemed they were busy with other things.

"That's ridiculous! (y/n), come over here. Now!", you flinched when you heard Ayato speaking for what felt like the first time in ages up, shifting with a weak heart around to him. He didn't even bother to spare you a look, he just continued to glare at his brother, clearly bothered with what Kanato had just said to him. You knew that both of them weren't guys to share, no one from those six was. But if you had to share the ones who were the baddest to deal with, you would give the trophy without a doubt to the triplets, all of them were horrible beings. But for you Kanato had always been the worst. He was incredibly dangerous, more than Ayato, more than Laito.

You just couldn't judge him and that made you feel scared. You never knew how he would react to this or that, if his reaction would be a positive one, if you could call him being bratty and annoying positive, or a bad one, the kind of reaction where he started shouting at you, grabbed you by your throat and pushed you around like you were some ragdoll. He was unhinged, unstable and for that you had never been able to understand him and his way of thinking. He was unpredictable, a joker. With Ayato and Laito you had at least a bit of an easier time to forsee their actions.

But you were scared of them as well, making you hesitate when you heard his demanding tone. Your throat had gone dry, your palms having become disgustingly sweaty so that you started to wipe them on the fabric on your clothes. Should you go to him? But what would Kanato do if you would? On the other hand, what would Ayato do if you wouldn't? "(y/n)." When you heard Kanato's voice, you instantly turned around, an unpleasant feeling creeping up your spine when hearing his voice. It had been a lot less harsh and loud like Ayato's voice had sounded like, but it had this certain something in it that would have managed to give people far less cowardly than you the chills.

You were met with dull purple eyes, a hidden insanity hidden inside of them that made you unconsciously step back a bit, noticed instantly by Kanato judging from the way his eyes shifted to your legs. And he didn't seem to like it one bit, pressing Teddy slightly tighter against his chest. "Y-you aren't trying to leave me for him, do you?"His voice was wavering, you as well as Ayato slowly seeing his hollow facade crumbling. It was an alarming thing to see, making you almost instantly step closer to him, fear taking control over your body, not wanting to anger him.

But this small action led to an instant small enragement from the red-haired boy. "What do you think you're doing, small pancake? Get back here this instant! You belong to Yours Truly!" You froze, mind being torn apart between listening to him or Kanato. "(y/n)." Kanato had stretched his hand out a bit, holding it in your direction. On the first glance it might have looked like a silent plead. But it wasn't the feeling you were getting from him. You could sense it in his eyes. It was a silent ordre, a clear warning to not even think about turning around, to not abandon him for his brother. Or else...

You heard Ayato tsk'ing, clearly getting majorly annoyed with you and the situation. "Stupid thing. Do you seriously think that he can keep you safe from me? Do you think I didn't notice how you keep lingering near him and start avoiding others? Don't tell me you're listening to him now because you're afraid of him." You tensed up when you heard him stepping closer to you, gaze being frozen on the ground. "You're scared, aren't you?" Another step closer, followed by another. How close was he by now?

You got your answer the moment you felt hair brushing against your cheeks, Ayato's face entering from the corner of your eyes your vision. "Do you expect me to care whether you're scared or not? The only reason you were brought here was to serve as a bloodbag, nothing more. You don't get to choose with whom you can stay or not. You don't have any power. I on the other hand have the right to decide over you. And if pain is really the way to make you submissive and obedient, I can give you that even better than he can. You're after all very cute when your face is scrunched up in pain. Should I show you?

You couldn't help tears falling down your face when you suddenly felt his hand wrapping around your throat, starting to squeeze it tightly and causing you to choke on the air. You felt nauseous the moment you saw the grin on his face obviously loving what he was seeing. "See? I can give you just what Kanato gives you all the time. You must like it if you stick close to him for that reason, right? I can make sure that you'll look even cuter when in pain. All for my eyes."

"I know she's cute." You turned your gaze through half-closed eyes to Kanato who was looking at you two with wide eyes, many emotions swimming in them. Ayato looked at him as well, clearly unimpressed by him. "So what?" He gave Kanato a slightly challenging look, pulling you with the hand wrapped around your throat closer to him, making you start seeing black spots.

"BUT SHE'S MINE!" The outburst was all so sudden that it catched you as well as Ayato by surprise, Kanato suddenly appearing right in front of you two, ripping Ayato's hand in a way away that made you fear he might twist your neck in the process and shoved you harshly aside. Your ass was met with the hard ground, making you twist your face a bit when you landed wrongly and started coughing, air suddenly filling your lungs again. "TOUCH HER AND I'LL KILL YOU!!"

You weren't surprised that Kanato hadn't been concerned the least bit about whether he would hurt you or not, having gripped Ayato's clothes and shaking him violently to which Ayato on the other hand tried to free himself, his hands pulling on Kanato's arms in an attempt to make him let go. You slowly crawled away from them, not wanting to risk getting caught in the fight. You better stayed away, especially from Kanato, he looked like he was seriously about to kill Ayato. His one hand had by now been placed right above the boy's throat, threatening to crush his neck at any moment. And Ayato seemed to sense the same thing, looking all of a sudden a bit stressed out.

"Fine then! Giving it a second thought, she's more boring anyways! You can keep that pathetic girl for yourself! She isn't worth all the troubles!" He jerked backwards, making Kanato lose hold on him, stumbling a bit clumsily back before straightening himself up. He turned around, shooting you a sharp glare before leaving that clearly told you that this had been your fault. Ayato hated losing to others. You had this nagging fear that he might try something later on. But you also knew that this was currently the smaller of the two problems.

"You ungrateful bitch! Why would you let him touch you?!" The second Ayato had completely left the room, you were already yanked upwards by Kanato, who looked wrathfully at you, making you burst out in tears once more. "You would have left me for him, wouldn't you?! Admit it!" You quickly shook your head, fearing that he might break your hands if he would add a bit more pressure. "I-I would never. I promise. I don't-don't plan on ever leaving you."

He stared intensely at you, obviously trying to judge whether you were telling the truth or not. The look in his eyes was fearsome, he had unleashed all his unstableness he had kept hidden before. "...I don't believe you."

A huge smile made it's way on his face, one that wasn't comforting at all. It was too big, looking like his mouth was hurting. Next to that it didn't reach his eyes and looked terribly fake to the extent that you felt bill raising up your throat.

"You're a liar. I don't like when people lie to me. And if someone lies, they have to be punished. That's what my mother always used to do to us when we were little." The next thing you knew was a mindbreaking pain filling all your senses.

[yandere-daydreams]

Leviathan's like this, sea serpent-creature yeah? aND he has a tail?? I feel like Levi could breath underwater with all the gills/scales his demon form has, or he's at least insanely fast in water... so if his darling would misbehave I imagine he'd pull them underwater, in a pool the House of Lamentation surely has, and maybe he let's them swim away from him at first, but in the end he'd pull them underwater for a long time :0

This might be the first and last fic I write for Levi, but considering the recent beach event and the mere /idea/ of his tail, it’d be a waste to skip this one. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a good scaley boy.

Title: Riptide.

TW: Drowning, Non-Consensual Touching, and Slight Degradation.

~

To be fair, you’d never claimed to be a strong swimmer.

It’s not that you were uncomfortable in the water, nor did you have anything against the sea or sand or whatever slimy, uninvited creature seemed content to spend its day brushing against your ankle whenever you forgot why you were ever unnerved by the ocean. No, you liked the beach, you liked the idea of it. You considered yourself fairly capable, too. Not the best swimmer, but not the worst, either, and certainly not an inept one. You were alright. You were fine.

This was just Leviathan’s habitat, his area of expertise. He’d make anyone look bad, in comparison.

You weren’t weak, he was just too strong.

You heard him before you saw him, a splash and a light, airy chuckle as he emerged somewhere behind you, prematurely amused by your pathetic attempts to tread water. You were already too far from land for your feet to touch, and yet, your oh-so-talented companion had no problem diving below waves and doing what he pleased, even if that only seemed to involve trailing after you and trying not to laugh whenever you lost your composure. He might’ve thought he was helping, keeping an eye on you like a noncommittal lifeguard, but as a lean arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your back against his chest in a half-hearted effort to keep you above the surface, you hardly felt helped. Patronized, maybe. Encouraged, but in the way a student is encouraged after their first swimming lesson.

The way a child is, when they’re told they only need a little more practice.

“Do you mind?” You snapped, spitting the words before you think to smooth over your temper. You stopped kicking, but only so you could cross your arms and stiffen, intent on making your discontent known rather than keep yourself afloat. “I’m trying to swim, Levi.”

“Emphasis on ‘trying’,” He countered, the sloppy arrogance in his tone quickly becoming unignorable. That was another thing about Leviathan, today, the water seemed to make him more brazen, more confident. And judging by the fingertips beginning to trail up your thigh and the chin soon resting on the dip of your shoulder, more confident translated seamlessly into more touchy. “You looked like you needed a hand. You were struggling - that only makes it harder to fight the current. You should relax.” Easier said than done, when you could feel his bare skin leeching your warmth, pulling the heat from your body like something more inhumane than you’d like to admit. Again, something brushed against your ankle, and you fought the temptation to shiver. You didn’t need him to think you were any more helpless than he already did. “You’re too tense. I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?”

You didn’t answer, but Leviathan didn’t seem to care. Comfortable or not, he seemed content to bury his face in the crook of your neck, his smile pressing against your skin, the edges of pointed teeth brushing against your jugular. He pulled you closer, and it took more self-restraint than it should’ve not to shove him away. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you weren’t in the mood to be so friendly, either. “We should start heading back.” You meant to sound confident, but your voice came out low, quiet. Too feeble to have an impact. “The others are probably worried. We drifted out pretty far, they might start to think--”

You never got a chance to finish. Without warning, that cold, slick something took hold of your ankle, a tapered tip taking form as it wrapped around your ankle, all scales and taut muscle. You put a name to the appendage a moment later - a tail, Leviathan’s tail, but awareness hardly made a difference. With a single strong jerk, you were pulled below the surface, the shock only made worse by the fact that he wasn’t letting go. Instinctively, you kicked, flailed, found your makeshift restraint and tried to pry it away, but Leviathan never faltered, never loosened his grip, never moved to help you or pull you down further or hurt you. No, he just held you there, letting you panic away your dwindling air supply until your chest began to ache and your eyes stung, tears attempting to form only to dissolve into the sea, water fading into water. You weren’t drowning, not yet, but you were going to. 

You were going to drown, and he was going to let you.

Just as your lungs began to burn, a hand wrapped around your bicep, taking you by the arm and hauling you upward, his tail never falling away but loosening, preparing to if you fought enough to make holding on inconvenient. You took a ragged breath, almost hitched and broken enough to make the inhale worthless, but your body was quick to right itself, to find its rhythm and soothe the raging part of your mind that still insisted you were about to die. Air came and went, but the fear lingered, adrenaline forcing its way into your veins and refusing to leave until you were shaking, trembling, whether in relief or anger, you couldn’t tell. You chose to assume it was the latter, if only because it was so easy to be mad, right now. You wanted to be mad.

Because Leviathan wasn’t smiling, anymore. No, how could expect him to just be smiling?

Now, he was laughing.

“You should’ve seen your face!” If he noticed your distress, he didn’t bother to comfort you. Rather, you were left to grit your teeth as he barely tried to suppress his smirk, making no effort to hide his satisfaction. His reluctance was gone, too, replaced with loose, careless apathy as he pulled you closer, looping an arm around your waist, never giving you the option to move away. Never giving you the chance to. “You just looked so surprised! Serves you right, honestly. Bringing up my brothers, acting so cold…” He trailed off, his eyes flickering up to meet yours as he nipped at your collarbone, nearly drawing blood. Trying to draw blood. “It’s starting to feel like want to be with them more than you want to be with me.”

“Let go of me.” It was a weak command, mumbled almost inaudibly, but you forced yourself to shake your head and close your eyes, your palm rising to press against his chest almost involuntarily. His fingers dug into your side, and you took the signal not to go any further, but you had to continue. You couldn’t stop yourself. “You attacked me, you tried to drown me. You don’t get to act like--”

This time, he pushed you. It was just a nudge, a slight tap to your shoulder, but his tail did the rest. You did your best to resist, to go against the force pulling you downward, but resilience just meant your back hit the sand harder, that more air was knocked out of your lungs. It was a warning, this time, little more than a hint at the possibility of something worse, but black still lined the edges of your vision as he dragged you back to the surface, his tail rising, coiling, wrapping around your leg until you could feel its blunt point trace shape against the inside of your thigh. Your head still pounded, and your body still hurt, more than it should’ve for such a short submersion.

And you still bit your tongue when Leviathan’s grin returned, more sleek and more sharp than it should’ve been.

More predatory than it’d ever been before.

“That’s it,” He muttered, letting you fall into his arms against the gentle current. “I just want a few minutes. That’s not so bad, is it? A little more time won’t kill you.”

He was right. It wouldn’t.

But, you were beginning to think Leviathan might.

[hells-angel]

Till we meet again

Request:  Could you do something with Gabriel?  I was thinking about something where the reader is Sam and Dean's little sister, and at some point she wants to sacrifice herself for one of the brothers, but Gabriel doesn't want to let her go so he hugs her and does everything he can to convince her not to go, so the two cry a lot and Gabe says how important she is to him.

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader

Word count: 1128

Warning/s: angst

Summary: Life as a Winchester always ends in a sacrifice, it’s a fact you’ve already accepted being the youngest Winchester, but not everyone is willing to accept it. 

It was a dreary evening as you parked the Impala not far from a crossroads. your eyes still puffy and red from crying for hours. once again, misfortune falls on your family, Dean is dead, it was something you refused to believe for hours.

You and Sam had sob in each other's arms, reeling on the pain of losing a brother. that is until you decided to do something you knew your brothers would never want you to do. 

make a deal with a demon. 

once Sam was busy, you sneak out and drove to somewhere you knew there was a crossroad. you would be lying if you say you weren’t scared, you were terrified. but everything is for Dean, you had to do this for Dean. 

swallowing your fear, you opened the trunk of the car to take out the shovels, but as you close the trunk there was a flutter of wings behind you. 

“You better not be doing what I think you’re doing,” a familiar voice said, prompting you to turn around. 

“Gabe” Your eyes widen in surprise as you locked eyes with Gabriel. you didn’t have to ask to know he was angry. 

“ What is it with you Winchester huh? you’re all just itching to throw your lives for each other ” he said before taking the shovel out your hand and tossing it somewhere

“because we’re family” 

“screw family! why does everything have to do with Family!” he exclaimed, followed by the loud boom of the thunder, letting you see the shadows of his wings spreading in anger for a spilt second. 

“Sam and Dean had protected me all my life, I’m merely returning the favor” you explained, the small droplets of rain coming down faster every second until it was officially raining, but for some reason, the rain didn’t fall on you. 

Gabriel actually uses his wings to protect you from the rain.

“you don’t have to do it, you can still live without Dean and I’m sure he won’t want you to sacrifice yourself for him ” he reasoned all the while slowly stepping towards you. 

you remained silent, refusing to look up at him. you knew Dean wouldn’t like it, knowing he came back in exchange for your soul. but you also knew they would have done the same if the situation was reversed. 

with determination on your eyes, you found the courage to look at his eyes and shake your head at him. “I can’t live every day knowing I could have done something to save him but didn’t” 

Gabriel felt his world crumbled around him, his body stiffening slightly, hands and jaw clench at the realization that you don’t want to be saved. 

“you’re so stubborn, what do I have to do so you would stop” he spoke quietly, standing in front of you. 

“Nothing, why are you even here? this doesn’t concern you” 

each word you spoke, his eyebrows furrowed in concern and anger. he took hold of both of your cheeks and made you look at him. you watched the archangel with so much fondness in your eyes that he felt he was being enchanted to spoke his true feelings. 

but at this moment he was willing to do anything to stop you from sacrificing yourself. 

“Because it’s you! you’re not just any human, you’re my human! ever since you smiled at me in that barn, I couldn’t get you out of my head, you can’t just make my heart flutter then disappear, you have to take responsibility”  

Each word went straight to your heart, You could feel your heart fluttering in your chest. Hearing those words come out of his mouth meant more than you ever thought they would.  

“Gabe...you..” you breathe, tears threatening to fall down your eyes. but before you can even say more, Gabriel lunges himself into you. 

“you owe it to me, so don’t go” he whispered in your ears. you didn’t have to look to know that he was crying. 

you bit your lip to prevent the sob that threatened to left your mouth, you can’t afford to grow weak right now, Dean is dead and you have to do something about it. that's what you kept telling yourself but being with Gabriel right now, you want nothing to do but just drown in his embrace.

“you really have to say that now? please don’t let this be harder as it already is” you spoke, your voice breaking. 

Gabriel slightly pulled away from you so he can properly look at your face, and sure enough, there was also a tear-stained mark on his cheeks. 

“Then don’t go! there must be another way, you Winchesters are good at finding other solutions, I’m not losing you today, not like this, sugar” he muttered. 

“But Dean his..” you trailed off, your eyes casting down the ground but hearing his gentle but broken voice brought your attention back to his eyes that seem to swim in thousands of emotion as he stares at you back. 

“We need you, your brother needs you, I need you”  he mumbled, Wrapping his arms around you again, pulling you close to his chest as he looks up the sky. and for the first time in a while, he prayed to his father, to bring back Dean to stop you and save him from the pain of losing someone, he already lost his home and his brothers, he can’t afford to stop you too. 

you were in a pickle, you don’t want to cause pain to Gabriel but Dean needed you. between your brother and the archangel, you knew you had to choose. 

forcing yourself to smile you look up from his chest to wrap your hands around his neck, pushing his head down so he can rest his forehead on yours. 

“Thank you, Gabriel, for saying those, you have no idea how it made me happy, I’m glad you told me how you felt, you’re the kindest angel there is” you fondly whispered near his lips. slowly you leaned up to seal your words with a kiss.

unbeknown to Gabriel, you let your other hand travel on the trunk of the impala, drawing sigils with your own blood. 

with a bittersweet smile, you continue to rest your forehead on his.

“I love you, Gabe....I hope we meet again” you mumbled before slamming your hand on the sigil. Gabriel’s eyes widen for a second before he disappeared, giving you enough time to continue your deal with a demon who would most likely not even give you a day in exchange for Dean’s life. 

with Gabriel gone and the rain still falling, you’re now drenched from head to toe, which is probably better as it masks your own tears. 

~*~

[absent-angel]

Writing on the Wall

Chapter 29: Body and Soul

Fandom: Inuyasha

Summary: Inuyasha doesn’t believe in haunted houses—until he actually buys one. Figures. A story told in drabbles. [Ghost AU] [InuKag]

Read it on ff.net

AN: Hope you all enjoy this chapter (because I've been dying to get to it)! ;D

In other news! If you like my writing and enjoy paranormal romances, my original novel Everlong is now available in ebook and paperback on Amazon. :DDDDDDD

Word Count: 1519

Warnings: Inuyasha’s potty mouth and, uh, character death. Because, you know, ghost story.

Chapter 29: Body and Soul

Inuyasha goes back. He has to. Kaede’s words are phantoms in his ears, clamoring voices in his head demanding answers. He has to know the truth, and Kagome is the only one who can give it.

The first thing he sees when he opens the front door is the writing he had left, unread and forgotten, the night he ran away from her. She must have been rushing, because it takes him more than a minute to make out the shaky symbols.

‘Please. Let me show you. Please.’ The last word is underlined five times; as if the once wasn't enough.

“Show me?” he scoffs, but the sound is weak. It’s hard to hate her, and it’s exhausting trying to remind himself of why he should. At the foot of the stairs, the cat sits and watches him with luminescent eyes—it’s tail twitching against the tread. “What the fuck does that even mean?” he mutters.

There’s no warning. It’s like being submerged in water, only it’s colder than what should be possible—like he’s swimming through ice. The blood in his veins is freezing and sending shock waves through his entire body. He tries to hold his breath, but the scream rips through him, ice fills his lungs and he thinks he’s a dead man.

Then it's gone.

He can breathe again.

The shock of it pitches him forward, and he gulps the air down greedily and with a desperation he’s never known. Beneath his curling fingers are wooden planks he doesn't recognize, and when he calms his racing heart enough to look up, he almost wishes he didn't. There are walls all around him, a roof above him, and—in front of him—a well. Somehow he knows he is in the same well house that's locked and boarded on his property. The same one Kagome told him never to open.

The hairs on his neck rise, the once gasping breaths are now burning in his lungs as he holds it in, because there’s the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door and—

The door opens. With the adrenaline still stampeding through his chest, it takes him a moment to realize who he's seeing. Her face is fuller—younger—than in the photograph. The green and white school uniform is one he recognizes as belonging to the junior high a few blocks from the shrine.

Impossible. It’s so fucking impossible, but there she is—blue eyes scanning over him as if he doesn’t even exist—and part of him wonders if he’s dead.

Kagome shakes her head, tucking her hair behind an ear and speaking over her shoulder as she steps in. “Are you sure, Souta?”

A young boy peeks his head from around the door, eyes flitting across the room. He doesn’t share his sister’s striking eye color, but there are other similarities—the nose, the cheekbones. Even if Kagome had never shared his name, Inuyasha suspects he would recognize the relation between them. “I’m telling you! I heard something! It was creepy!”

She rolls her eyes with a brand of impatience that seems reserved for siblings. “It was probably just Buyo,” she grumbles, even as she checks the other side of the well. Inuyasha steps out of her way, heartbeat hammering in his ears as he stares. She’s close enough he could reach out and touch her, but he doesn’t dare try. “There’s nothing here.”

“Gramps says people used to call it the bone eaters well!” Souta whines, eyes fixed on the well in question anxiously. “What if there’re demons in there!”

“He also sells fake Shikon no Tama on keychains and tells people they're real,” she scoffs. “There’re no demons. Look, I'll show you.”

Something in Inuyasha’s stomach sours, churning until he feels legitimately nauseous. He thinks about all of Kagome’s warnings; of the words still carved, nail-deep, into the dirt outside the well house. Her fingers slip under the wooden edge of the lid, and a jolt of panic prompts him to step forward.

Don’t!

He says it, can feel the word rattle his lungs and fly off his tongue, but no sound comes. He tries to say her name, screams warnings into the air, but nothing works and he watches in silent horror as the lid lifts.

Kagome looks over her shoulder, equal parts fond and exasperated. “See? Just an old well.”

Souta edges closer. Inuyasha tries to remember how to breathe. “Are you sure,” the younger boy asks, peering over the edge and into the shadowed depths. “I was sure I heard something...”

Kagome shrugs, lowering the lid. “Maybe it was just a—ow!” The well lid slams onto the ancient stones; Kagome snatching her hand away and hissing under breath.

Inuyasha jerks forward. The words that leave him, soundless, are the same as her younger brother’s.

“Are you ok?!”

She nods, cringing, and opens her hand for inspection. There is a gash across her palm, blood dripping off her wrist and onto the floor. “Yeah, I must have caught a nail...” She groans, lower lip pouting as her fingers close over the wound. “I hope I don’t need a tetanus shot.”

Inuyasha can’t take his eyes off the beads of blood seeping between the floorboards; a feeling—dread, fear, and horror all rolled into one—chokes him. And then the floor is moving beneath his feet, and when he looks up, he’s staring at his kitchen—his old kitchen, only it’s clean and new. Beneath the ringing in his ears, he can hear an echoed chorus of off key voices behind him. He turns around.

There are fifteen candles in her cake and an honest smile on her face when she closes her eyes and makes a wish. Then she blows out the candles, her family laughing and clapping around her, and suddenly it’s like he’s watching through a skip reel on fast forward. It’s dizzying and it makes his stomach lurch, but he forces himself to watch as another seven birthdays pass before his eyes in a matter of seconds. Kagome’s face gets thinner, her brother gets taller, on her mother he sees the beginnings of gray hair sprouting from her temples, and her grandfather’s wrinkles become deeper and his skin more transparent.

Then she’s blowing out twenty-two candles, and everything goes dark. Inuyasha waits, pulse thrumming, for someone to turn on the lights, but it never comes. A groan of old iron hinges and Kagome is silhouetted in the doorway with the full moon illuminating her face, and Inuyasha understands.

They’re back at the well house.

She pauses at the threshold, head tilting as she listens, and suddenly he hears it too. There is a scratching noise coming from behind him. Inuyasha doesn’t need to look to know that it’s coming from the inside the well.

Kagome shakes her head; blind to the horror rattling his bones and deaf to the warnings springing from his lips. “Buyo, did you get yourself stuck in there again?”

She lifts the lid. Shadows climb up the wall, thick and poignant—like oil spilling over silk.

Things go black, and when light returns she is staring down at her body—throat slit and blood still pooling over the floor. Soaking into the pink carpet. In her hand is the knife responsible.

There’s blood everywhere. It coats her fingers like crimson gloves and there’re splatters of it on her face and the white summer dress she decided to wear for her birthday. It itches against her skin, and she stares with confusion at the bloody footprints leading from the stairs to her room—to her. When she looks, the bottoms of her feet are red.

Panic swells, choking.

Somehow she knows, even though she doesn't remember, but she tells herself that it can't be right. Her family—her—they can’t be dead. She would never—

Then her body, bloodied and battered, rises—a puppet on strings. The head lolls forward and then back, as a laugh shakes the thing’s shoulders. It meets her horrified stare, and its lips pull back into a red-stained smile.

Inuyasha feels his spirit jolt, his eyes snapping open and a ragged breath entering his lungs. It’s worse than waking from a nightmare. The image of bloodied teeth still cast phantoms over his eyes despite knowing that he’s back where he belongs. He screws his eyes shut, counts his shaky breaths and wills the trembling in his hands to stop already. Then he opens his eyes, and he has to remind himself to breathe all over again.

Instead of seeing an empty room, he sees her. He sees Kagome. Her hands are on either side of his face, fingers cold against his temple. There are tears rolling down her cheeks and dripping off her chin. His lips part around a question he can’t even begin to communicate. He’s too entranced that he can see her—that he can feel her.

“I woke up the demon in the well,” she whispers, face crumpling. “It’s my fault my family is dead. It's my fault I'm still here.”

[chaotically-chill]

Brother

a clingy duo story

I’m going to try and post more stuff on here, just trying to figure out a format and a schedule lmao :)

The oak had aged, Tubbo noticed as he grazed his hand over the rough wood, its planks sun-bleached with time and warped with the memories it had been burdened with. The bench was warm, loved by the sun for years while it was kept empty of visitors. He remembered the first time he and Tommy had sat down on the bench, watching the sun set behind the tree-blurred horizon line. He grimaced as the tired wood creaked under him as he sat down, wondering what his counterpart would say when he saw how evolved the bench had become.

“Those were the good days, weren’t they?” Tubbo flinched at Tommy’s voice, uncharacteristically reminiscent.

Tubbo chuckled, “Yeah, the good days: constantly avoiding TNT and running into enemy territory while trying to find food for some meager dinner.”

“If only Niki had joined earlier, we’d be eating like royalty.” Tommy laughed, easing himself onto the bench next to Tubbo. “But I’m serious, we were so awesome together back then.”

Tubbo looked down, fiddling with the ring strung through the chain around his neck, “We were only awesome because we were young. Because we didn’t have to worry about the regrets we would have.”

Tommy leaned back against the wood, closing his eyes as if he could relive every single word they had said to each other. “We were the founders of a nation that had grown from a drug van, a fucking drug van, Tubbo. A tiny little caravan with a flaming hot dog on top, smoking out of the windows with Wilbur’s projects. We created something incredible out of that! You and I, Tubbo. We did that. You and I.”

He had to admit, there was a beauty to the harsh environment he had lived in for so long while in the midst of a war. But that war had ended, like so many others that he had plunged himself into, and they had taken different paths, traveling the same road in two different directions. He never wanted to admit that the Tommy he knew back then was not the Tommy sitting next to him, he had changed, with time, with trauma. But Tubbo had changed as well, and maybe it was the changes he had undergone that forced him to rip down the veil of juvenile ignorance, or maybe it was time and age that had led him to finally look through it.

Yet, here they were, sitting on the same bench, looking at the same sunset, finally meeting on the same road once more, even for just a small lapse of time. But sunsets don’t last forever.

“Trees grow, Tommy. They grow and their branches and leaves grow to shade away the sun. It’s just that sometimes the branches cover the sun completely, leaving the rest of us in the dark.”

Tommy looked at him, eyes a shade of blue Tubbo could never quite remember the name of, but they conveyed the same memories as his. Memories of unspeakable horrors and sad truths and beautiful beginnings and endings, they were all the same to the two boys. “Can’t we trim back the branches? Just for a day?”

Tubbo smiled, “Yeah, yeah we can.”

The two stood from the bench, silently apologizing for the violent creaking of the wood as they relieved their pressure from it, and walked over to Tommy’s home.

They returned to the bench shortly after with soap and water and fresh screws. The sun was almost gone now, Tubbo noted as he scrubbed away years of dirt and blood and grime from the wood. Memories neither him nor Tommy wanted to look back on. Tommy was next to him, replacing rusty nails and screws with new ones. When they had finished, the two brothers stood back and admired their work, both remembering the first time they had done this, tired and sweaty and weak. But this was now, after they had grown stronger, mentally and physically. After they had seen war and peace and exile and execution. They wiped no sweat from their brows, only tears from their eyes.

“Remember that time,” Tommy fell back against the revived seat, “we were in the middle of battle. There were arrows flying everywhere, nobody could tell whose was whose, and you were right in the middle of it all.”

Tubbo remembered, although he tried not to. “You must have seen me or something, ‘cause the next thing I remember is you covering me while I reloaded my crossbow. You emptied your arrow supply to keep me safe.”

“You know why?”

He shrugged, “Because we’re friends?”

“Because we’re brothers, Big Man. And I’d do it again. Because I know you would do the same for me. Even if I was dying and couldn’t escape to safety, I just know that you would be there in seconds to rescue me. And if you were drowning out there in the ocean, I promise you, pinky promise, swear on my goddamn life, I would give you my fucking lungs if that meant you would be able to swim to the shore. We’re brothers, Tubbo. I’ve got you, brother. I always will.”

He could feel the tears in his throat, muffling his words. But they both knew there was no need for such things like conversation. Their history spoke for them, their memories of sitting on that very same bench, leaning against each other to keep from drifting off to much needed sleep while the soft melodies from the jukebox carried on and on and on. Tubbo threw himself forward, wrapping his scarred arms around Tommy’s battle-worn chest. He felt Tommy return the favor and they stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, exchanging words that could not be conveyed using vocal cords.

The next day, they did the same, sitting on the bench they had built and rebuilt, watching the sun disappear behind the trees. They came back the day after that, and then the day after that. Before long, they knew to wait for the other before putting in a disc to listen to.

They didn’t often talk, they didn’t see the reason to do so. They just sat next to each other, enjoying the quiet company of brothers.

And then Tubbo found himself waiting at the bench alone. He waited, and waited and waited and waited. Tommy never came. And then, right as he was typing out a message to the missing boy, a message popped up on his comm.

TommyInnit was beaten to death by Dream

He didn’t react with words. Couldn’t bring himself to scream anger or grief. Tubbo simply sat down on the bench, and sobbed. He stayed at the bench for hours after the sun left him to be alone with his grief.

He came back the next day, dried tears still on his cheeks. They didn’t come today. Today he just thought. Thought about how much faith Tommy had put into him. Thought about how much he failed his one, true friend. His brother in arms. He couldn’t think about anything else. It was too much, he couldn’t breathe. The guilt was weighing too much on his shoulders. He was drowning.

He came back the next day. And then the next. And the next. People would walk past, offering words of consolation and sympathy, but all they could find was a boy who just wanted his friend back. Nobody could do that. Nobody who wasn’t responsible for his death in the first place. People stopped trying to comfort him.

The sun was setting as Tubbo played with the gold rings on a necklace around his neck, humming Mellohi absentmindedly. Then, “Those were the good days, weren’t they?” Tubbo flinched at Tommy’s voice, uncharacteristically reminiscent. He shot straight up from the bench, disbelief plastered on his face. Tubbo tried to speak, but only half words and stutters left his mouth. It was good enough for Tommy. “I told you, Big Man, I’d give you my lungs so you could breathe.”

Tubbo barreled into Tommy, feeling the grateful warmth of his brother as he wrapped his arms around the sobbing boy. He cried apologies and relieved words that were all the same to Tommy’s ears. They were safe now, in each other’s arms. Safe from the horrors of war and death and betrayal and loss. They never let go of each other, at least, not figuratively. They were always there for the other, to stand arm in arm against an army of soldiers. But they always came back to the bench, everyday, washing away the dirt and grime, laughing about memories of the past and the present. Every day. Every single day. Two brothers sitting at a bench that had carried them through life and death and life again. People walked past them on their way to and from business, every day. They watched the two boys grow into men, and even then, not a single day went past where the laughter of brothers didn’t light up the faces of everyone who walked past. Tommy and Tubbo grew, never apart, always trimming back the leaves of the tree. Then, as they left one late night, they grasped their hands together, and made a promise. A promise of brothers, of ties that could never fray, a promise that broke all others, and walked through the Prime Path, and into L’Manburg. And that was their dying day. That was their promise.

The oak had aged, Niki noticed, as she ran her fingers through the deep grooves of the bench. She had brought a pail full of soapy water and a sponge, sat down next to the bench, and got to work. The wood was warm, well loved by the sun while it waited for its visitors. She remembered the first time she sat on the bench distantly, but the memory of her standing side by side with Tommy and Tubbo in front of their bench, promising them that everything would be alright was forever sewn into her mind. It was so long ago, most in her position would have forgotten it, but she never did. For how could one forget the legacy that the two boys shared?

[blindbatalex]

a carraville royalty au fic, in which Jamie is angry. [[cw for discussions of past character death and war.]]

Jamie’s steps echoed in the stone corridors as he walked to their bedchambers at a brisk pace. He stopped, at the last minute with his hand at the doorknob, and unclenched first, his jaw and then his fist, taking a couple of slow, deep breaths.

Time was, he would train when he got like this, train until the fire eating him from the inside out had cooled, until he could barely stand. Stevie would take one look at him, and with a gentle laugh, send him outside, declaring him unfit for human society as a twinkle lit up his eyes.

He opened the door. His shoulder hurt with such a deep, visceral rage, he thought two swings of a practice sword now would reduce him to tears.

Inside was warm. The fire that burned in the fireplace despite the summer made him want to take his jacket off as soon as he stepped in. Gary, on the other hand, did not seem to share this sentiment, holed up as he was in bed under a heavy duvet that he had pulled up to his chin.

“Where is everyone else?” Jamie asked, frowning at the otherwise empty room.

Gary shrugged with his eyes.

“Just wanted a bit of peace and quiet. Which is quite hard to get around here.” He coughed- once, twice. “But the blame is mine; neither of them wanted to leave. I yelled at them threatened to throw them into jail for disobeying their lord.”

Classic Gary. Jamie had left him here with Gini – their physician – and a servant with express orders to both to stay put so that if Gary managed to get rid of one of them the other would still be there. But of course he had underestimated just how obstinate Gary could be.

Jamie sighed and clenched his fist again, looking outside so he didn’t have to look at Gary.

“How is the boy?”

On the courtyard, the summer evening carried on as usual, servants and soldiers and the residents of the town criss-crossing the well-worn cobblestones on their way here and there.

“He is like you,” Jamie replied, not taking his eyes away from the scene below their feet. “Shivering and coughy but he will be fine.” Probably. He had seen men survive drownings before only for the water they inhaled to rise up in their lungs and choke them later. They had both been half-dead by the time Jamie and his men had pulled them out of the water, their bodies convulsing violently with cough after cough.

“That’s good.” There was a pause. “You were good out there.”

His head whipped to Gary at this despite himself, and the bastard was smiling. Not one of his smirks or a shit-eating grin or a sneer, but a genuine smile that reached across his pale face and into his tired eyes.

Would war really break out again if Jamie murdered him? Surely, they would understand.

“Well, you were really stupid,” he spat out, not bothering now to keep his calm. “What were you even thinking, jumping into the stream like that? Let me guess- you weren’t thinking. ‘Just saw the boy fell into the water and jumped after him, James.’” His eyes landed on the book on the side table next to the bed and it made him even more angry. “Of course, you would know next to no one survives falling into that stream if you had bothered to learn about your surroundings than tree dragons!”

He stopped and took a slow, deliberate breath. Damn him. The reckless, stubborn fool. Gary had stopped smiling now but his eyes, more brown in the evenings than green and always so stubborn, were still on Jamie.

“That boy would have been dead had it not-” Jamie took a step towards the bed, quite possibly to actually murder Gary because he knew what Gary would say next. Had it not been for me. As if either of them would be alive now if Jamie hadn’t shouted at the group of merchants who had been standing next to the bridge with their horses and in less than a minute got them galloping at full speed towards where the stream narrowed some half-mile downstream. If he hadn’t yelled at them to form a human chain into the water, with Jamie at the very tip, and nabbed both of them out of the stream.

But Gary surprised him once again.

“That boy would have been dead had it not been for us.”

Us.

Gary coughed again, once, twice, three times and Jamie wanted to break something- he didn’t even care what, just something that twisted and snapped in his hands or shattered into a thousand sharp pieces, that cut and bled him. And yet, Gary had the audacity to laugh.

“It’s really touching you care so much about me, James, but I promise I’m fine.”

“You-” Just a soft, weak laugh, and when Jamie looked a twinkle lit up his eyes and a smile played on his lips, equal measures fond and smug. Jamie couldn’t hear anything now for the pounding of his blood in his ears. “You think I am angry because I care? About you?” he said, spat out. “Did you know I didn’t get to say goodbye to my bloody soulmate, my Stevie? It took him a day to die and in his agony he called for me, over and over again—or so I am told. But I wasn’t there because a Mancunian archer had shot me under your orders and I didn’t know where I was, who I was, as he lay dying.”

He realised he had been screaming at the top of his lungs but he didn’t care. He didn’t. He was furious.

“And yet I married you. Not because I care but because the war destroyed everything. Did you know the boy- his whole family was massacred in the war, mum and siblings and infant brother in front of his eyes, their village burnt down, and he and the one sister who survived travelled for days to get here? And even now, while their lips speak of peace, councillors hunger for war, looking for an opportunity, a spark. If you die in my castle, doesn’t matter if it’s because you wanted to throw your life away or slipped on your arse and hit your head, they will say I did it, I let it and we will be back to where we started.”

He took a shuddering breath. Gary’s face was as pale as that of a ghost. “I’m sorry,” he rasped quietly and Jamie had seen him look- this broken, only a couple of times before, only after the most dreadful of his nightmares as he sobbed into Jamie’s shoulder.

Jamie had held him today, coughing and spluttering, rubbed his back and said “it’s alright, you are going to be alright,” over and over again. He couldn’t tell you if it was to reassure Gary or to reassure himself. He couldn’t be in this room.

So he tore his eyes away and left as quickly as he could. On his way out, he stopped in the kitchens and asked Mrs Torres to borrow Lucille and sent her up with instructions to call for the physician if anything in Gary’s condition changed. She was the one person Gary would not threaten with jail or execution and she, the one person who would not budge no matter what he did.

He spots Gary. There. The currents are punishing but he is somehow managing to keep both of them afloat. ‘Over here, Neville,’ he calls at the top of his lungs. Gary sees him almost immediately. But the current is fast and he is too far. With his free arm Gary swims towards him, once, twice, Jamie stretches and stretches but- Too far. Too far. Then, impossibly, their hands close around one another. ‘Hold on!’ Jamie yells, ‘I’ve got you.’

She stood up and curtsied when he came back, hours later. Gary was asleep but he had been fine, she reassured him. Jamie took the seat she vacated at the head of the bed and Gary’s eyes fluttered open at the click of the door as she left. He frowned when he saw it was Jamie.

Could Jamie blame him for that?

“’s alright. You were right,” Gary murmured, as if he could read Jamie’s mind, on his lips a half smile. Jamie wanted, more than anything, to reach out and push away his fringe, to fall on his knees and sob.

“No, Gary-”

He wanted, more than anything, to find the words to explain. Explain how the boy’s sister had thrown herself into his arms before she remembered herself and begged for mercy at his feet, in choked off sobs and frantic pleas to spare them. How old and world-weary her eyes were when she should be braiding her sisters’ hair and giggling over the boys she liked. Explain how scared he’d been. How much he cared and how that scared him more than anything else.

“’s alright,” Gary said again on a long exhale. His eyes had already drifted closed. Jamie promised himself he would find those words before the morning, even if he had to travel to the four ends of the world tonight. He had to.

[staywritten]

All In│Bang Chan «Chapter Thirteen» ◄Back «Masterlist» Next►

Chan had been staring at his ceiling for almost an hour. You soundly napping in his arms, unknowing of the emotional turmoil he’d been dealing with since his talk with Felix. He’d been racking his brain on how to tell you, but there wasn’t anyway to put it without it sounding sketchy. The two of you kinda just fell into this perfect rhythm and he didn’t want to disrupt it. You were everything he’d ever wanted. He’d never been able to open up, and feel so comfortable before. Sure, he had his friends and he could tell them anything, but he was always the big brother. He never wanted to burden them. But with you he didn’t feel that weight. You welcomed everything with open arms. 

He smiled seeing you pout in your sleep. You still had another thirty minutes set on your alarm. He brushed your hair out of your face, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.You relaxed almost instantly to his touch, cuddling into his chest. 

He waited a couple more minutes to make sure you were comfortable before quietly slipping out and heading to Felix’s room. 

“What’s up Man?” Felix opened his door letting him in.

“Can I vent? I think I just need to talk it out first.” Felix could tell just how disheveled Chan was. He just looked so mentally exhausted. Felix sat on his bed watching Chan pace. “I don’t want to hurt her… I’m terrified of hurting her”

“Then don’t. Just be honest”

“Honest? If I’m honest I’ll lose her...and I don’t want to lose her Felix I think I’m in love and I don’t want to let it go”

“Noona is understanding, and she loves you too I can tell. Friends don’t look at each other like that” he chuckled “I mean I love you, but I’ve never stared at you the way she does.”

“Felix I’m serious.” he groaned “If she asks me about Rosie what am I supposed to tell her? Hey this is Rosie, technically my long distance girlfriend but don’t worry we’ve been on a break for like three years but everytime I go back to Australia we always pick up where we left off, sleep together and go on dates and stuff. But we’re on a break” his tone sarcastic as he rolled his eyes, crossing his hands over his chest. 

“See! It’s that right there. Girlfriend. You need to call Rosie right now and break up properly, that way you don’t have to lie" He grabbed his phone, getting ready to call Rosie himself. “You can just break up and that way you don’t have to tell her anything because-”

Chan watched as Felix’s eyes widened, trained on the door behind him. It’s like he knew before he even turned around. His shoulders slumped in guilt before his eyes met yours. “I-”

“...You have a girlfriend…?” your voice breaking, tears already spilling from your eyes. “I was so stupid…” you shrinked back, you couldn’t even look at him. “A girlfriend…” you sniffled, wiping the tears furiously from your eyes.

“It’s not…” he reached out, his body reacting before he could even form a sentence. “Baby please...”

“Don’t touch me!” you stepped back immediately, hugging yourself. 

“I never meant to hurt you” his eyes widened, panicked. He knew he was losing you and he didn’t know what to do. “Please… just let me explain everything and… I know you hate me right now but-” 

It was like suddenly you were in your sophomore year again in the same toxic cheating relationship. All of your anxieties about opening up, trusting someone, loving someone. It all came rushing at you. Suddenly you were that same, weak, naive sophomore that let a guy manipulate you. All of your insecurities about Rosie that your friends tried to brush off, were justified. 

Your body stiffened, Chan reached for your cheek to wipe your tears away. “I’m so sorry”

“I said don’t touch me!” you pushed him back keeping your distance. 

“Baby please…” he held his hands up, approaching you slowly; Like you were some frightened animal. “Let me explain...I-” 

Your body panicked, your anxiety rising. Your fight or flight instinct kicked in. You felt cornered, heart broken, deceived. You bolted down the hall, not even bothering to grab your things. You shoved your foot in your sneakers, stepped on the backs of them and ran down the stairs from the apartment building. 

The cold night air hitting you hard in your thin t-shirt and sweatpants. There was almost an immediate regret once you got down to the main street. You regretted not wearing a sweater, you regretted not grabbing your phone first, you regretted being in an area that wasn’t within walking distance from your house, and most importantly you regretted ever giving another person your heart. 

You ran at full speed for as long as your legs could manage, your lungs screaming for a break, your feet in pain from the rubbing of the sneakers on your bare foot. But you couldn’t stop because stopping would mean thinking. 

As long as your body was in some sort of visceral response mode, crying and overthinking became second priority. 

“Chan you gotta give her some space” Felix grabbed him, stopping him from going after you. 

“I can’t! Felix she’s crying and out there in the middle of the night! She doesn’t have her phone- I-I gotta go find her!”

“Hyung! You’re the last person she wants to see right now. If you find her she’s gonna run again.” he took his keys. “I’ll go find her. You stay here in case for some miracle she comes back.” he ordered before heading out. 

It was rare that Felix ever took initiative like that but Chan was falling apart. 

He drove down the block, looking for you, the only good thing about the whole situation was that they lived in a rather nice area, it was well lit and close to the college so you should be familiar with it, but it was still dangerous for you to be out there alone. 

Felix drove the entire path from his apartment to yours, even stopping at a few shops along the way. But still nothing. Chan was blowing up his phone wondering about an update, but there was nothing to tell him. He couldn’t find you. After driving back and forth twice he was starting to worry. But he needed to hold it together because if he panicked Chan was definitely going to lose it. 

Somewhere along the way you’d gotten lost, it was bound to happen. It wasn’t like it was a straight shot from North to South campus, and you weren’t even thinking straight. It just hit you how alone you really were. It wasn’t like you had anyone's number memorized, you didn’t even know where you were. You couldn’t even remember the last business you saw, the few you passed were closed for the night. This was as good as it was gonna get, because your legs couldn’t manage a step further. You finally stopped running and collapsed to the ground of what looked to be a park. At least it was decently lit. You hugged your knees panting heavily,, your legs exhausted from the sudden sprint.

Was this your fault? The only reason you got up early from your nap was because Chan wasn’t there. Maybe you should have just stayed asleep. Living in this warm, blissful ignorance, slowly falling more in love with something you knew was too good to be true. You scoffed, sniffling into your t-shirt. Your heart was filled with regret, because deep down you convinced yourself that you didn’t get happy endings, at least not in love.

Felix drove to your apartment once more. It’d been over an hour since he started looking for you. Even if you walked straight home, you should have made it there by now. He hesitantly knocked on the door. 

A very groggy Momo opened the door, yawning and wiping the sleep from her eyes. “Felix? What in the world? It’s like 1am I have practice tomorrow morning.” 

He nervously looked up at her. “I...Is yn-Noona home?”

“What? No, she’s at your place” she laughed at the silly question before reading his face. “Wait...Why? Where is she?” the worry was rising on her face.

“She...Kinda got upset at Hyung and ran out...she left her phone and stuff at the house…”

“What?! She left your house on foot? Felix! When? I- What did he do to her!?”

“I’ve been looking for her for like an hour.” His shoulders slumped “Momo, focus here, I’ll tell you that later but we gotta find her I’m getting worried…”

“An hour?!” She grabbed her purse and phone to call Hyunjin “Drive me back toward Chan’s house, I’m getting her stuff. And tell me every single thing that happened.”

Felix and Chan called everyone they could gather to go and help look for you. It was still too early to file any form of police report, especially being that you left willingly, and it’d only been a few hours but they called just in case. 

Chan paced back and forth, he’d had to explain the situation more times than he could count, and there was never a gentle way to put it. He fucked up. He completely and wholeheartedly fucked up. The whole swim team and anyone else he could gather was out looking for you, and all he could do was wait.

Momo walked inside the apartment to get your things. Walking passed Chan without a second look. She grabbed your phone, books and bag packing them up in a furious silence. “Momo I’m so-”

“Save it.” she glared at him. “My best friend is missing because you cheated on her. And if ANYTHING happens to her I swear-”

“I deserve it…” his head hung low. “This is my fault… I.. I should have…”

She gripped her small hands, almost shaking before taking a deep breath “I don’t give a shit about this pity party you’re throwing yourself. This whole woe is me, this is all my fault, I deserve this self hate thing, it’s a little pathetic given the situation. My friend is missing. Our friends are out there looking for her in the middle of the night, and you are doing nothing”

“She doesn’t want to see me”

“You pick a hell of a time to start being considerate for her, where was this when you forgot to tell her you had a girlfriend.”

“Momo you don’t know the whole story”

“And I don’t care to! You are full of excuses!” She let out a breath, visibly shaking. “You know-It doesn’t matter. There’s plenty you could be doing. You could be calling places, calling people, getting out there and looking for her anyway. Yes, it’s your fault. But it’s also mine, I should have never encouraged her to talk to you. I should have never said you’d be different and that you were a nice guy. But I’ll have plenty of time to blame myself after we find my best friend and that she’s home safe.” She rolled her eyes “But hey, if you wanna throw your pity party help yourself. But I’m gonna go find my friend” she grabbed your bag before leaving his apartment. 

Chan knew Momo was right, he was falling apart from the guilt. It was like everything he feared was coming true and he felt helpless. He just wanted you to be safe. He took a deep breath. 

To Be Continued…

Hi friends! （ﾉ´д｀）I’m sorry, I had to plot ;_; 

All In│Bang Chan «Chapter Thirteen»

Synopsis: After a messy break up your sophomore year, you decided that the best thing for you was to finish off your college career single. You wanted to focus on yourself, grow as a person and finish off your degree strong. There’d be plenty of time for love after college. But after losing your camera you become friends with the seemingly perfect boy that threatens to ruin your plans.

Genre: SocialMedia!AU, College!AU, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut

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[mydetheturk]

Friendly Reminder that Sabo Is Not A Nice Man

i wrote this a few nights ago, partially in realization that Sabo, as a child, decided “fuck the government” and also how fucking scary is the chief of staff for the revolutionary army for your average marine. so it was time for my usual “lets be mean to coby”

i will probably clean this up and put it on ao3 eventually i just kind of wanted to share this one scene. enjoy!

~~~~~

"You saved Luffy's life," says the man pinning him to the ground, and Coby is dismayed to find that it's the Revolutionary's Chief of Staff staring down at him with a hand wrapped around Coby's throat to hold him in place. "When Ace… died."

"Was murdered," Coby gasps.

There's a grim smile from the revolutionary. "Murdered. That's a way to say it." He taps a finger against Coby's throat, and Coby is deeply glad his armament haki is as well tuned as it is, because that could have gone through. "Ivankov told Dragon. A pink haired Marine kid got between my brother and Admiral Akainu."

"There were too many casualties on either side," Coby hisses. He tries to swing an arm to get the Chief of Staff off of him, but the man almost blurs in heat and Coby.

Flinches.

His control is crumbling, and the hand on his throat tightens, slightly. There is heat roiling off the blond, and Coby's brain drags him back two years to magma and Red Hair and Coby tries to take a few stuttered breaths but can't get purchase while being choked out.

The Chief of Staff stares at him with impassive eyes.

Then the choking grip loosens and Coby sucks in a breath, twisting to try and shake the other man off of him and to hide himself. Tears gather in the corners of his eyes and Coby gives in, defeated for the moment. It is a weakness he cannot afford.

The air is tense in this quiet little corner of Mary Geoise. There had been suspected Revolutionary infiltration into Reverie, but up until now, no one has been able to confirm.

Coby is going to have the bruises to show for it.

"Thank you for saving my idiot little brother, Captain," the Revolutionary Chief of Staff says, and Coby jerks, stunned. "Ace would have thanked you too." He pushes himself up from where he has Coby pinned, one hand still on Coby's throat. "Unfortunately, I can't have you telling anyone we're here." The grip tightens again, hand shifting so that the Revolutionary can more easily cut off Coby's air or destroy his trachea.

Black is swimming in his vision when he hears his name and someone body-checks the Revolutionary away from him.

"You got lucky this time, Captain," the man says, and then he disappears while Coby is drawing huge gulps of air into burning lungs.

"Coby, shit, c'mon, answer me," someone says, putting a hand on Coby's shoulder and snapping fingers in his face.

"Helmeppo?" Coby croaks.

"Yeah. Yeah it's me, what happened to you?" 

Coby looks at his friend, and his voice cracks painfully as he whispers, "Revolutionaries."

Helmeppo swears quietly and helps Coby gingerly to his feet.

"We… we gotta let someone know," he says. Which is true. "You need a medic." Also true. It hurts to breathe, and trying to talk makes it worse.

His throat burns.

[hyperpsychomaniac]

The Woodchuck Leader Assessment - Chapter 3

DT17 Fanfiction

Summary: When Launchpad’s ability to supervise children is called into question, Dewey tags along on a Junior Woodchuck trip to support his best friend.

Chapter 1

Also cross-posted on fanfiction.net.

***

Huey watched his brother leave, then turned to Mr Russell with a scowl. “You didn’t have to talk to Launchpad like that. He’s a good leader, even if he is a little…”

Mr Russell raised an eyebrow. “What, slow?”

Huey looked down at his lap.

“It’s okay, boy, you can say it. I was his Woodchuck leader for nearly a year. I know. And he didn’t learn too much in that time, I can tell you. Just kept recklessly trying though. No matter how many failure badges I’d give him he never got the point that there were some things he just was never going to be able to achieve.”

“We know how many failure badges he has,” said Huey. “He’s shown them to us. And so what? I have one too!” He flashed open his sash.

“As do I,” Violet chimed in.

A smattering of the other Woodchucks nodded in agreement, some of them also opening their sashes to reveal failure badges.

Mr Russell waved a hand as he sunk onto a log by the fire. “Alright, put those away. Do you really want everyone to see?”

Huey and Violet both exchanged glances, some of the other kids dropped their gaze to their laps, and they all hid their badges back beneath their sashes.

“Look, I get it. Nowadays you get a trophy just for turning up. But you want to know why we had failure badges to start with? It’s fine if you have a couple. So do I. You screw up sometimes. And sometimes that’s all it is, a screw up. And sometimes, well sometimes it means you have no damn right to have the badge you’re trying for. If you get twenty failure badges for trying to tie your shoelaces, it probably means you don’t know how to tie your shoelaces. Figured once you got a few too many of them for the one thing, you’d get the point. But there’s a big difference between shoelaces, and failing at first aid, or brain surgery, or, you know, looking after a jingbang of kids who won’t listen to a word you say. I know you all like Launchpad, and I’m not trying to put you in a spot where you won’t have anymore Woodchucks…”

Huey lifted his head. “Wait, no more Woodchucks? What do you mean?”

Mr Russell poked a stick at the fire. “You kids ain’t exactly got people lining up to lead your troop. Part of that is due to Launchpad, but even if he ended up quitting, they’d have a hard time finding a replacement. So you’d think that’d be important to him, to at least try for your sakes, instead of storming off in a pout.”

“I believe he is trying,” said Violet.

No Woodchucks? What would he do without his Woodchucks? Huey crammed the thought down. He could stress about that later; he would be stressing about that later. “Yeah… that’s… that’s not really fair on LP.”

“Fine, I’m sure he’s trying. But that’s part of his problem. He doesn’t know when to quit! He’s going to try to do something he just isn’t capable of, and he’s going to get one of you kids hurt. And, unfortunately for Launchpad, he’s just never been smart enough to figure out when his actions are putting someone in danger, until it’s too late. I’m not yet convinced he still isn’t dangerous. And if he can’t convince me of that, I can’t in good conscious let him take responsibility for you lot.”

“He’s handled responsibility for us just fine,” said Huey. “You just haven’t given him a chance. Just because you knew him as a kid, doesn’t mean…”

“Alright, that’s enough out of you,” Mr Russell snapped. “I think I might have figured out the other reason no one wants to lead your troop. You’re disrespectful and belligerent, and that is far, far too many failure badges between the lot of you. Now, seeing as your responsible leader has decided to lump you all on me, I guess that means I’m giving the orders. So, everyone go to bed!”

***

Halfway up the hill, it started to rain. Doofus had been right. That thought drifted into the overwhelming mess of memories stirring and rattling around in Launchpad’s mind. He’d tried to shut them out all day. Performing his Woodchuck leader duties, even having Jack hover over his shoulder the whole time, it had been distracting enough to keep them at bay.

Right up until Jack had, in front of all Launchpad’s Woodchucks, pulled out what he’d promised was in the past. As soon as Launchpad had crossed him he’d brought it up, and he couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to trust him to keep his word.

Launchpad pulled out his keys as he approached the bus, and wiped a hand across his beak as he fumbled for the right one in the misty rain.

“You don’t want to be responsible for something like that do you, Launchpad?”

But if already felt like he was.

Launchpad finally realised he’d left the bus unlocked. He shouldered his way inside, then slumped into one of the seats and let his head rest against the seat in front, eyes squeezed tightly shut. He didn’t want to remember. But it was too late for that.

***

“Calvin, cooome on.”

“LP, I said no. Mr Russell says I’m too weak to swim that far. He gave me a failure badge! And you know that’s the end of that.” His friend slumped face-first into his pillow, his cream and brown feathers sticking up in a ruffled heap from the back of his head.

“Mr Russell doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I mean,” Launchpad shuffled around on his bedding to get in front of Calvin. He pulled open the front of his sash. “Look at all my failure badges. He said I couldn’t get the proper badges for these either. ”

“It’s different for you, you’re… insane. And you’re not supposed to show me those,” Calvin mumbled, still face-down.

“But look.”

Calvin sniffed, and sat up. “You have a lot.”

“And I’ve got the proper badges for nearly half of them. It didn’t matter what Mr Russell said. Come on, you can get that swimming badge.”

“He’s not going to let me try again. If I ask, you know he’ll just…” Calvin gulped.

Launchpad knew only too well what Mr Russell would do. Push him too far and he’d tear strips off of you, and if you couldn’t get it through your thick head why you couldn’t get the badge, he’d explain how you fell short, in excruciating detail, in front of all the other kids. It hurt. But Launchpad had long figured out the only way he was going to get the badges was to keep trying, and that meant he had to argue with Mr Russell. So no matter how hard their Woodchuck leader tried to tell him he wasn’t good enough, he’d just stand there and let him slap a failure badge into his palm, and it was just one tiny act of defiance to not break Mr Russell’s gaze when he did it. Even if he did go and cry in his tent afterwards.

It hurt, but it annoyed Launchpad too. Especially when he did it to the other kids. Most never seemed to handle it as well as he did. I mean, it was just a failure badge! None of them had hurt him, even if a few had been a little embarrassing. He just had to get Calvin to see that.

“Come on, Calvin.” Launchpad reached out and squeezed his friend’s arm. “You nearly had it this time. We’ll go and get it, now. We don’t need to ask Mr Russell.”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“So Mr Russell won’t be able to yell at us, right?”

“The water’s going to be scary in the dark…”

“But it’s dark, so you can’t see it, so it’ll be less scary?”

A frown creased Calvin’s beak, and then his gaze hardened. “That… kind of makes sense. You know what, if you can stand up to Mr Russell, so can I. Let’s do this.”

The two boys grabbed their hats and sneaked out of the camp, towards the river. It had been raining earlier, and in the night air the roar of the rapids further downstream was loud. They couldn’t find the path, but after pushing though a bit of bush, they managed to find their way down to the river, following its roar.

“Are you sure about this, LP? This wasn’t where we were swimming earlier.”

“I’ll go in first, so you won’t be scared.”

“You haven’t got your swimming badge yet either.”

“I can still float! And I’ll try and get it tonight as well.”

The bank was steep and slippery. Launchpad looked down and thought he could see a slash of water below. “You know, that does look a little rough…”

A beam of light whipped through the bushes. “What the hell do you boys think you’re doing?”

Calvin and Launchpad both whirled around. Launchpad felt the earthen bank give underneath his foot. He splashed into the river, the cold bit into him, and water rushed down his throat as the current washed him away. He struggled for the surface. Something snatched at his sash.

Launchpad gasped as his head broke the surface.

“Come on, Launchpad, swim!” Calvin hauled on his collar, striking out with the stroke Launchpad had not yet been able to master towards the bank which was only identifiable by the flashlights that danced along it, shining out over the water.

Rocks slammed into his chest as they hit the edge. The water still tore at them, but there was something to grip onto. Launchpad coughed and spluttered for air. Calvin clung to the bank beside him, wet and bedraggled and doing the same.

“Come on, get back up here!” Mr Russell loomed above them. The bank was steep, and high, and their leader’s outstretched hand was far too far away.

Calvin made a lunge for the hand but slipped back down the muddy bank with a whimper.

“Bloody hell, why did you go and run off… did any of you boys bring a rope?” Mr Russell yelled back over his shoulder. He grumbled, looked about, then undid his belt, looped it around his hand, then hung that down over the side.

Calvin lunged again. This time, he managed to grab the belt and dragged it down. “Come on, LP, grab on.”

Launchpad looked at his friend, wide-eyed, and shook his head. If he let go, even to grab the belt, the torrent would just sweep him away again. Maybe this was something Mr Russell had been right about. He’d never get his swimming badge. He could never swim in something like this.

“Come on, LP. You’re the one who doesn’t know when to quit. We’re nearly out of this; grab the belt!”

“For gods sakes, quit yapping and grab on. You boys are in so much trouble…”

Launchpad could feel his strength fading, his arms growing numb. Calvin gritted his teeth and lunged for his hand, and dragged it over to the belt. “There, you see, you did it…”

Launchpad never knew what it had been. A branch, a loose piece of trash, something, carried by the current. It slammed into them and sent them spinning. Launchpad held onto the belt for dear life. And he felt his friend let go.

Launchpad shot out of the water and into Mr Russell’s lap. Mr Russell shoved him off with a growl and rushed back to the edge.

Launchpad coughed and spluttered, and finally he could breath. He pushed himself to shaky feet. “Calvin, where’s Calvin?”

Mr Russell scanned the river with his flashlight. “Shit. This can’t be happening. He’s still in the water, you idiot!”

“Calvin!” Launchpad spluttered through tears, and lunged for the water.

Mr Russell grabbed him hard and threw him back. “Get away from the water!” Launchpad threw himself at him again, shoving him across the muzzle. Mr Russell tossed him back again, and then cracked the belt hard across Launchpad’s arm.

Launchpad crashed back into the wet leaves, curling into a ball as the belt cracked across his back again and again, the sting biting right through his soaked uniform.

“What. The hell. Were you boys… thinking!”

“Mr Russell, stop! You’re hurting him!” And with the interruption of the other boys, Mr Russell stopped.

Launchpad had curled up on himself, sobbing, because somehow he’d understood his best friend wasn’t coming out of the river. And it was his fault.

He couldn’t remember anything of what happened in between. He’d checked out until the moment he’d heard his father’s voice.

“Get off me!” Launchpad looked up to see his father barreling his way into the mess of paramedics, and parents, and police back at the camp, with two of the other dads all but hanging off his arms as he shrugged them off with a gruff snarl. “I’m not going for him, but you can bloody well get him out of my sight! I’m trying to hug my son!”

And then he’d been in his father’s arms, pressed close against his chest. “I’m so sorry, Launchpad. We should’ve done something about this earlier…. And I’m sorry, I’m going to fix it for you, I promise.”

“Can… can you bring Calvin back?”

“No… no, son.” And his father’s voice broke. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

***

Launchpad stared at the seatback as the rain drummed heavier on the bus’ roof. His mom and dad had explained to him it wasn’t his fault. He knew that. But they’d also explained to him that he’d still feel like it was, and that was okay, it just meant that he missed his friend. And it still hurt, even now, even though he hadn’t thought about it in years. Jack’s thoughtless comments had brought it all back.

Why the hell had they let Jack back into the Woodchuck’s? It wasn’t even his reaction to what had happened. Launchpad could never in a million years see himself reacting like that, but as a Woodchuck leader now himself, he understood now that Jack had been more scared than angry. And despite all his bullying, it was the only time Jack had ever hit a kid. It was all the cutting words and slapping failure badges into their palms like they should be ashamed of them. Making him feel like nothing, and making the other kids feel like they needed to distance themselves from those less capable. They should’ve booted Jack out for all that long before what happened to Calvin, and he’d tried to tell his parents, but of course they hadn’t listened. Even now, Jack didn’t seem to get the affect his words had. Launchpad was an adult, and they had still hurt him. He shouldn’t have left the kids down there with him. But he couldn’t drum up the courage to go back.

Launchpad stared at his phone sitting in his lap, taken out in a last ditch attempt to distract himself from the memories by thumbing though social media. It only he hadn’t convinced Calvin to try for the swimming badge. If only he could pick up the phone and message him.

Launchpad hung his head as tears filled his eyes.

“LP? You okay?” Dewey stood in the aisle by the door.

Launchpad quickly wiped at his eyes. “Hey. Yeah. Just needed some air.

“That guy is a total jerk.” Dewey slipped into the seat beside him. Yeah, he’d be the same age as Calvin. But Calvin had had about an inch on Launchpad. Dewey was just, so tiny. Because he’d grown, Launchpad again reminded himself. He reached out and ruffled a hand through the boy’s hair.

Dewey grumbled and pushed him off. “LP! I’m trying to be a shoulder to cry on here.”

“I don’t need to cry.” Which wasn’t true. “I’m just… kind of mad…” Which wasn’t exactly untrue. “I’m sorry. I guess it hasn’t been a very fun trip for you to figure out if you want to be a Woodchuck or not.”

“I didn’t come to be a nerdy Woodchuck, no offense. I just thought, with this whole assessment thing, you’d need some moral support.”

“Aw, Dewey…” Launchpad gulped at the lump in his throat.

“Seriously though… what did Mr Russell mean when he said someone drowned? You knew them right? I mean, you didn’t walk out on your Woodchucks because he kept interrupting you.”

Launchpad’s chest tightened as Dewey looked up at him with big eyes. How could he tell him he’d failed his first best friend? He looked away. “Look, it doesn’t matter…”

“It does. Mr Russell has you really on edge. I’m worried about you, and I want to help.”

“You said it yourself; he’s just a jerk.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Maybe you should go to bed. Jack doesn’t need anymore stuff to put in his report, and you should be back at the tents not running around out in the dark all by yourself. You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“In trouble? Launchpad, you’re not a kid anymore. You stood up to him back at the campsite. You’re the one who’s supposed to be in charge, assessment or not, and you don’t have to let him boss you around.”

Launchpad knew what his friend said was true. But he couldn’t face Jack just yet. He couldn’t even face Dewey. “Look… I can’t… yeah, I’m in charge, okay? So just do what I tell you and go to bed!”

Launchpad knew he’d crossed some line when Dewey’s eyes narrowed, and he slipped off the seat beside him. “I’m just trying to help, okay? Like I said I only came here for you. I’ll go to bed.” And he turned and without any further argument, left.

“Dewey…” His departure tugged at Launchpad’s chest. He just wanted to talk to someone. His best friend would understand. But if he didn’t… Launchpad’s clutched at that empty spot on his sash where his swimming badge should have been, and hung his head.

***

Chapter 4

[junie-bugg]

The Heartrender - Chapter One: Ashes

Hey everyone! Here’s my latest Enemies to Lovers Everlark fic. It’s a fantasy AU inspired by Leigh Bardugo’s Six of Crows duology, more specifically Nina Zenik and Matthias Helvar. You don’t need to have read Six of Crows to understand this story since I took ideas from Bardugo’s world and then made it my own. It doesn’t take place in the Grishaverse but is heavily influenced by it. I came up with countries, parts of a new language, and backstories for my witch!Katniss and witch-hunter!Peeta. 

All four chapters have been written and I plan on uploading every Friday:)

You can read here on Tumblr or here on AO3.

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Sexual Content

Relationship: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark

Tags: Enemies to Lovers, witch!Katniss, witch-hunter!Peeta, AU - Shipwrecked, AU - Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Explicit Sexual Content, Furs and Fires, Angst and Fluff and Smut, sexually experienced Katniss, virgin Peeta, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Loss of Virginity, Laughter During Sex, Blood and Injury, Imprisonment, Peeta has some prejudices to work out, Peeta also has an accent, Inspired by Six of Crows

Summary: 

He hated her. He hated her for what she was: an abomination, a demon sent to tear at the fabric of the natural world. He hated her for making him want to laugh. He hated her for being so brazen and sensuous and everything the women of his country were never allowed to be. But mostly he hated her because he realized he didn’t hate her. Not even a little bit.

After a shipwreck has left an abducted witch and a member of the ominous Order bent on wiping out her kind stranded on the icy shores of an uninhabited land, the two must work together to survive or face tearing each other apart in the process.

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Chapter One: Ashes

Peeta had imagined his death many times. A slit throat or an ax in the chest. Perhaps run through with a sword and thrown from a cliff. A warrior’s death, a man’s death, as was expected of him in his service to Sjorkden. Never did he think he’d pass bloodlessly and without a foe to fight. Yet here he was.

Drowning.

The frigid water wrapped around his body like a salt casing, water-logging his shoes and pulling at the cloth of his uniform. He imagined clammy hands latching onto his limbs, dragging him down, down, down. In the harrowing moments before he ran out of air, he watched dreamy streams of moonlight filter towards the black bottoming out of oblivion that was the ocean floor. Below him gaped miles and miles of seawater, and he would be lost to it.

He prepared himself for what was to come, slowly counting down the seconds to when he would snort salt water into his lungs and end it. No use in prolonging the inevitable, though his dreams lay like air pockets in his stomach, lifting him to hope there was still time for him to change things. To achieve something with the life he would have had if not for this stroke of bad luck.

Water pressed at his lips like an unwelcome guest. He was truly out of air now and the suffocating vacuum in his chest was enough to burst him apart from the inside out. The tips of his fingers began to tingle painfully, oxygen deprivation or the effects of cold, he couldn’t tell.

His last thoughts before he lost consciousness were of the countdown to drowning himself.

Three… two…

And then nothing.

X

Peeta awoke to an embrace. Thin arms twined about his ribcage, hoisting him above the frothy crests of waves.

His people believed in Gratka, the valley of heaven, the holy place of worshippers, warriors, and the most pious of women. A divine world spun from light and cloud, flowing with rivers of honey wine and heavy with the scent of eternal orchards. Peeta was not sure if he had been worthy of Gratka, but surely the chasms of hell would have been hotter than this.

He jerked his head about, trying to get his bearings back. His lips dripped with saltwater and his lungs burned with every ragged inhale.

He and his companion were bobbing on the frigid waves. The sky wheeling above was full of black, ominous storm clouds and the ship, The Bloody Rose, was on fire.

He hadn’t meant to, but he must have let out a cry because suddenly the arms tightened around him and a pair of lips pressed against his ear.

“You can’t save them. Just help me swim.” Then a strangled grunt and a: “Gods, you’re heavy. What do they feed you? Horses?” The words were choked, spoken in the voice of someone who had swallowed too much seawater and was struggling against the current. She spoke in Krellian, a sharp language of hissing consonants and hard breaks, only punctuated by the occasional swooping vowel. He twisted to face her, his lip curling in disgust when he saw those flashing silver eyes.

The witch.

How had she gotten out of her cell?

Her eyes bulged in panic as he kicked away, ripping himself from the circle of her arms.

“No!” she screamed as she grabbed at him, but without her there to buoy him, his head quickly slipped beneath the waves once more. His arms felt sluggish and he realized with a paralyzing rush of cold that she had been keeping his blood warm with her magic.

He struggled to break the surface, coughing up a mouthful of seawater and thrashing about as he tried to find her once more in the dark. “Witch?” he sputtered, ashamed of the sharp edge of fear in his voice. They reached out for one another, barely holding on by their fingertips as a wave crashed overhead, but then it passed and they were righted once more. He didn’t try to get away this time, afraid of his dipping heart rate and the hazy rush of dizziness that quickly abated with her touch. He didn’t feel warm, but the numb ache in his limbs lessened. He pulled her to his chest, locking her body within his arms like a vice.

“We can make it to shore, but I need you to kick. I can’t swim and keep both our hearts beating.”

He blinked the water from his stinging eyes, already exhausted.

She pressed the back of her head into his shoulder in frustration. “Jųlaik, ” she begged.

Please.

He grunted in reply and then started swimming. In return, she kept their hearts beating despite the cold. They weren’t sure which way the shore was. For all they knew, Peeta could be bringing them further out to sea, but with every passing minute the blazing ship they’d escaped from grew smaller and smaller until it collapsed in on itself, a charred heap dipping below the waves.

Not only had Peeta’s brothers in arms been on that ship, but Peeta’s future had been on that ship. Seventeen witches, four of which he had captured and that he could claim, all dead, except for one.

In his service as a witcher, he had brought forty-six witches to court and he had witnessed them all, his bounties, burn at the stake. The sweet stink of smoke and the way that charred flesh falls away from bone were all too familiar. This was his country’s way. This was justice. Four more would have won him his freedom, his manhood, his honor. Four more witches and he would have held the world in his palm like a flowering bud ready for plucking. All the blood and sweat and sleepless nights spent scouring the wastelands of countries far from home would have been worth it.

Hours passed. The storm clouds released their last torrents of icy rain and then cleared to reveal a bright purple smattering of stars above, carving their ancient celestial paths across the sky. The only sounds were his labored breathing and the sloshing of waves. Peeta’s legs felt as if they were going to fall off, both burning from the physical exertion and freezing in the arctic water. His nerves didn’t know what sensation to succumb to, retreating into numbness. He felt as if he were kicking around two logs.

The witch hadn’t spoken since the ship disappeared, but Peeta could tell by the way she was gritting her teeth that it was taking everything in her to keep them from freezing to death. He almost laughed at the irony of the situation. The witch and the witch hunter. Not a pair destined for groundbreaking teamwork.

So why had she saved him?

Dawn peeked over the horizon, pulling it’s smoldering pinks and oranges upwards until the stars faded and the moon was just a paling ghost of its nighttime brilliance.

“There,” the witch whispered through chattering teeth, her voice weak with exhaustion. Peeta turned his head to see what she had gestured to.

A coastline with tall cliffs crusted in ice and snow, and there at the shore, a black stretch of beach. Peeta swam on against the surf, the waves pushing them back out as if the ocean wasn’t quite ready to let them go. Finally, Peeta touched bottom and they crawled to land, collapsing on the sand with water lapping at their ankles. The two were heaving and freezing and giddy with the fact that they were alive, against all odds they had survived, though the silent celebration didn’t last long. The air was bitter and their wet skin puckered beneath its needle-sharp caress. They needed to find shelter, and fast, or the witch’s magic wouldn’t be enough to keep them alive.

Movement was hard. Peeta’s body felt as stiff as a piece of plywood and each attempt to stand left him trembling under his own weight. He looked back at the witch lying prone in the sand. Her hair was a tangled mess and clung to her face in dark, wet clumps. He almost thought she wouldn’t make it, that she’d just stay collapsed and never get up again. But she managed to rise onto her hands and knees, and then slowly to her feet.

They didn’t talk as they climbed a narrow pass up the cliffside. The rock was black and smooth, flowing magma that had cooled, dotted here and there with the greenish-brown blooms of lichen. Perhaps the land had once been volcanic, but that must have been a very long time ago.

As they reached the top of the cliffside, they found themselves marooned in a land of winter. Sharp white mountains jutted up in the misty distance and the foothills that spread out before them were dotted with boulders and stretches of snow and the shrubby, paling vegetation that hinted at a short growing season. It was a harsh land where only the most adaptable species could survive, and Peeta knew if they didn’t find a cave or some sort of outcropping to huddle in soon, they’d be done for.

Luckily, they stumbled across a cluster of circular lodges at the top of the cliff. The witch, shuddering so violently Peeta almost thought she could be seizing, disappeared past the thick curtain that acted as a door, shuddered one final time, and then collapsed onto a pile of discarded furs.

Peeta limped inside and scanned the den. It had been constructed and then abandoned by a whaling expedition, which were common this far north, though whaling was only done in the spring. The walls were layers of tanned animal skin and were held up by thin ashwood beams running from floor to curved ceiling. They looked like the bones of a rib cage bleached chalk-white in the sun. A thick column stood sentinel at the structure’s center so the roof wouldn’t sag and beneath it lay a small fire pit with a few half charred logs. The lodge was designed to house upwards of fifteen people, whalers with thick cloaks and packs full of food and supplies, but now just sheltered two shivering, salt-crusted water rats with nothing. The whole place smelled of wet fur and welcomed Peeta with open, shadowy arms.

“We should start a fire,” Peeta croaked, his throat ravaged by salt and exertion. He nudged the witch with the toe of his boot when she didn’t respond. “Are you dead?” A part of him wanted her to be. He hated owing her for his life, a debt he knew he would have to repay before this horrible nightmare was over. But if the swim had killed her, he wouldn’t have felt a shred of guilt.

As he circled around he saw that she was in fact very alive. Her eyes were propped open, wide and glassy, as if she didn’t have eyelids, shot through with red where there should have been white. She was chanting he realized. Praying perhaps.

It scared him.

“Hey!” He kicked her shoulder and the witch’s eyes cleared as if they were rising above a cloud line. “Stop that, it’s freaking me out.”

She glared up at him. “Never disrupt me again.”

“Why?" he sneered. "So you can curse me? Blind me or make me impotent? Cast a horrible death upon me and all my descendants?” Witches were known for curses. Pregnant women whose unborn babes had offered strong kicks days before, born bright blue and as limp as dead worms. Men cursed to wander the forests until they clawed out their own eyes and died of blood loss. Children swallowed up by thick mountain mists, never to be seen again. Death. Woe. Suffering. All at the hands of a wretched few.

“I have not cursed you. Your allegiance to a false god has done that.”

“And yet, we’re in the same predicament. Seems your gods have doomed you as well.”

This struck a nerve. Perhaps the same thought had been pressing on her mind. She narrowed her eyes, bunching her fists in the fur she lay atop of. “If I had the strength I would burn that blackened heart of yours right out of your chest.”

“Should I be worried about tomorrow then?”

“Very.” She rose to face him, hatred pouring forth from her eyes and twining about her head like a poisonous snake baring its fangs. He met it with a hardened look of his own.

“I’m still waiting on a ‘thank you’ for dragging you out of the ocean,” he said.

“And I’m waiting on a ‘thank you’ for keeping your tiny heart from shriveling up. Trust me, it was no easy task.”

He smiled coldly. “My, you have a big mouth for someone so small.”

“And you have a big head for someone with such little brains.”

He almost laughed, but they had been through a lot and Peeta was tired of arguing. He crossed to the fire pit and ignored the eyes boring into the back of his head.

“What? No response?” she goaded bitterly, but Peeta didn’t rise to her bait, focusing instead on starting a fire. After scraping two jagged rocks together, there was a spark. Thankfully the kindling was dry and after a few harsh blows and a prayer, Peeta was successful. The fire was delicious, like a tiny heart slowly beating life back into his frozen fingers.

He realized that this was the first time in weeks that he and the witch hadn’t been separated by iron bars.

As if in response to the shameful flush of heat that had radiated through his body at the thought, he heard a muffled sound, like a bird’s wings rubbing together, and turned his head.

The witch’s dress was off, her body bared to him. Her small, rounded breasts and jutting hips shone like caramel in the soft light.

Peeta’s cheeks flamed, afraid that he had been caught staring. “What are you doing?” he sputtered as he moved to shield his eyes.

She turned to pick her dress up off the floor and shot a look over her shoulder. Her very bare shoulder. “You don’t seriously think I’m going to spend the night in a wet dress, do you?”

“But you’re naked!” He winced at how petulant he sounded, how very much like a child he still was in some ways.  

She rolled her eyes at him, but he was too focused on avoiding the very sight of her that he didn’t notice. “You’ll get naked too if you have any sense. No use in wearing wet clothes when you can let them dry.”

“You’re perverted.”

“I’m being practical.” She twisted the seawater out of her dress and then snapped the damp fabric at his back. “Now strip.”

X

He had to admit, shucking off his wet uniform and wrapping his body in a pelt had made him feel much better, though he was careful to cover the flesh between his legs when he did.

“Aw, you’re blushing,” she laughed. The sound set Peeta’s nerves on edge. The witch lounged near the fire pit on a nest of pelts she had constructed, wrapped in a glossy black fur that reflected threads of reddish-gold in the firelight. As she sat, the weak glow of the flames cast her features into warm relief, deepening the shadows under her cheekbones and darkening her lashes. Her salt tangled hair was as ebony black as a night sky with no stars and her skin was flawless, the color of water beaten clay beds.

“Come here,” she beckoned.

Instead, Peeta took a step back. “I do not take orders from witches. Even naked ones.”

“It’s like you don’t want to survive the night,” she scoffed. “See this?” Her furs shifted as she reached out a hand, allowing a dark sliver of her inner thigh to catch the light.

Peeta tried not to stare.

She pointed a finger towards the dwindling fire. “We barely have any wood left, and when the fire dies while we’re sleeping, the only thing keeping us warm will be each other. Now get over here. I don’t plan on freezing to death when I have a big lump of muscle to keep me toasty.”

She made a good point, but still, Peeta hesitated. What if this was just a trick? A lure to get him close enough so she could pounce and gouge his eyes out. Or maybe she’d wait to finish him off when he fell asleep, his beating heart ripped from his chest while he cradled her against him.

In the end, he decided there was little chance of them surviving out here with no food and only three measly logs to keep a fire going. If he was going to die, he’d rather die warm. Besides, having his heart ripped from his chest would be over faster than starvation.

He moved towards the nest, and only after he had discarded his pelt and shimmied under hers did she speak.

“Closer, lieutenant,” she urged in a singsong voice.

He growled in response.

“Seriously, you’re acting like a blushing schoolboy.”

“I do not wish to lay with a witch.”

“This is not laying. This is surviving. If you had any experience pleasuring a woman you’d know the difference.”

Peeta’s body stiffened behind her.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re embarrassed by it,” she chuckled meanly. “I thought the whole point of your pious Order was that you prided yourselves on being virgins. That and murderers.”

He ignored the word murderers. Only a witch would consider what the Order did murder. Everyone else considered it justice. Shearing the rot riddled branches off the tree that was the human race. Magic was a disease, nobody should have that kind of power over another. It was unnatural and the world was better off absent of her kind, but he didn’t expect her to understand.

Monsters were always blind to their own evils.

So instead he addressed her derisive use of virgin. “We marry only when we’ve proven ourselves worthy to the Order.”

“Shouldn’t you only have to prove yourself to your wife?”

What a silly notion, Peeta thought. “A man does not have to prove himself to a woman. He has responsibility over her. Nothing more.”

“How romantic.”

“Do not mock me, slum scum.”

“I think I like ‘witch’ better,” she quipped. She was infuriatingly quick-witted and Peeta seethed in silence, unsure that he could contend with such a sharp tongue.

“Whatever,” she said after the silence grew too long. “Just know that there’s nothing to worry about. Even if I wanted to, I would never defile my body with the likes of you.”

“That’s reassuring,” he muttered.

Despite her declaration, the witch drew nearer. The goose flesh of her back felt clammy against his chest, but soon their body heat melded and all he felt was radiating warmth prickling against the chill that had settled into his bones.

“Why did you save me?” he asked lowly, unable to quiet his racing thoughts. A part of him wanted to keep her talking so he wouldn’t have to close his eyes and picture Yasser’s bloated body lost at sea.

“Because you’re a human being,” she murmured, her voice saturated with drowsiness. “And because I knew if you survived I’d have someone to cuddle with at night.” Suddenly, and with a rustle of fur, she turned to face him. He scooted back. “Relax, lieutenant. This isn’t where I have my way with you. I just prefer to sleep with my back to the fire.”

“Are you always so lewd?” he asked, the disapproval in his voice as clear as a church bell ringing across a courtyard.

“If you knew me you’d know the answer to that is yes.”

“I do not wish to know you, witch.”

“Good. You don’t deserve to.”

With these terse versions of “good night” exchanged, they settled against one another, though Peeta was careful to avoid the brush of her breasts. She smelled of sea and sweat and the musk of fur, but something sweet lay underneath all that. Lavender milk. A chamomile bath. Medicinal salves. Jasmine blossoms suspended in freshwater. Long tumbles downhill.

The smells soothed him, until he remembered she’d been locked in the brig for a month and shouldn’t smell anything but horrible. A spell then. He was surprised. He thought all Krellian magic was blood rituals and sacrifices, not a spell in place of perfume.

Despite himself, his eyelids grew heavy. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was of slinging an arm around her waist.

[hotchocolatewriting]

Fish catch #8

Part 1  || Part 2  || Part 3 || Part 4  || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9

Hero woke up coughing their lungs out. It felt like someone was kicking their chest with every cough. They turned on their side and curled up to relieve the pain a bit. Their lungs were burning, their head was pounding and their throat felt like a cactus could grow in the newly discovered desert there.

Hero pulled the blankets a bit higher to keep the cold away. Their eyes shot open. A blanket?! A bed?! They weren’t in the water anymore and they had actual legs! Hero slowly moved them, only to find out their ankles were shackled to each other with a short chain between them.

The room was small with not much in it except for the bed they lay on, a bucket in the corner, and a bedside table with something to drink on it. Hero sat up and reached for the glass, their hand shaking violently as they gulped it down.

Their legs were shaking as soon as they were standing on them. Hero pulled the blanket off the bed and threw it around themselves. They took a few wobbly steps and pushed the curtains to the side. Supervillain was nowhere to be seen and according to the bit of light coming through the roof, it was still morning.

Hero took a few more steps before one of their legs gave out and they fell on their knees. They hissed and tried to pull themself up again. The chains around their ankles made it even harder to walk and their legs were weak after swimming for so long. They dragged their feet over the floor and fell a few more times before they finally found what they were looking for.

“Hero! You’re awake!” Hero looked up to see villain swimming in the tank not more than a few feet away. They coughed which earned a worried look from villain’s side, but hero waved it away as if it was nothing. They stumbled over to the thank and sat down, letting their back lean against it. They were too weak to keep standing on their legs and they clenched the blanket around them for some extra warmth as they couldn’t stop shivering. They felt horrible.

Hero’s face was still pale, except for their flushed cheeks. Now they weren’t in the water, villain could see the sweat on their forehead and their slow movements. They gave hero a small smile, happy to see they were at least awake. But they wished they could do more.

“I’m sorry,” hero began, their voice hoarse. It felt like someone was squeezing their throat shut and talking hurt. “I’m too weak to get you out now.” They coughed again and pulled their knees closer to their chest.

“That’s okay,” villain’s voice said from the other side of the glass. “The most important thing is that you get better.” It earned a surprised look from their brother again. Normally villain would have pushed hero to try and free them, but villain didn’t even think of it. They swam close to where hero sat and looked like they wanted to go through the glass.

“If I could just move my legs,” hero said quietly. Villain pushed their hand against the glass. “It’s okay, hero. I shouldn’t have pulled you into this in the first place,” villain said. “I wish I could just hug you and tell you we are going back home, but I can’t and I’m sorry.” Villain looked at the ground as villain’s brother lay a comforting hand on their shoulder.

“Villain? Do you remember when you said you were finally better at something than I was?” hero asked. Villain nodded. “Yes, you are a horrible swimmer,” they grinned. “And do you remember that I got so scared when I found out this was real?” Villain nodded again.

“I told you that it only was because I didn’t know what to believe. That I was scared because mermaids excited and I didn’t know what else was real. I told you that I only slept with you because I didn’t know how to sleep myself, but there is another reason behind it.. a second one.” Villain’s eyes widened and small sparkles appeared. “So you do love me!” they grinned.

Hero shook their head. “That’s not what I meant.” Villain immediately looked disappointed. “So what do you mean then?” villain snarled. “I couldn’t swim,” hero said. “Not only because my legs changed for a tail, but because I never had any swimming lessons. I got scared because I realized I was in water and… I’m scared of water.” Hero looked away, not able to face villain or their brother.

“You’re scared of water? Why?” villain’s brother asked. Hero shrugged. “I don’t know, I think my parents made me scared of it so other people wouldn’t find out about me, but it became less scary because I can breathe in it. I kept being scared that it would suddenly stop in my sleep and that I would drown, but..” “I made you feel safer,” villain finished for them. Hero nodded, that was exactly it.

“You know, I was scared when I got on land the first few times,” villain said quietly. “Everything feels so different, your body feels heavy and it actually took me a while before I was able to walk.” Hero smiled, imagining villain crawling around, frustrated because they just couldn’t walk. Somewhere the image was funny, especially because villain was always so full of themselves. It made hero chuckle, which earned a offended look from villain.

It was at that moment that someone walked into the tent. A little boy, not more than ten years old. His eyes grew wide when he saw the tank and he ran towards it, only to stop and step away as soon as they saw hero. Hero smiled at them. “Hey kid, are you here to see mermaids?” The boy nodded, looking at villain and their brother. “Are your parents around?” The boy nodded again and hero smiled.

“What do you think of a deal?” hero asked. “If you get your parents, you get to touch a real merman. What do you think of that? Isn’t their blue hair really cool?” The boy nodded hard now, a big smile on their face. Hero could see villain rolling their eyes, but they gave thumbs-up as the kid ran away.

“What are you planning, hero?” villain’s brother asked. “Supervillain can be back at any moment. We don’t want to involve a kid, do we?” “It will surprise you how creative kids can be,” hero said. “He sneaked around to come in here now supervillain is even more on guard than ever. I’m sure he will find a way.”