#my heart still beats in your direction -- full-of-mercy.

[angelictyphoon]

pas de deux

@full-of-mercy

Their legs hang off the edge of a shorn panel alloy, peeled back and away from the fuselage like the pop tab of a soda can. It has become their perch, providing an uninterrupted view of the horizon and the burning edge of the twin suns as they make their ascent. Colors they have seen, colors they have shared before. Swatches of brilliant vermillion bleed into the dark sky as they turn their eyes up to the gradual migration from night to day. 

This is the second sunrise he has shared with Nicholas after two years. 

His hands hurt. He can feel the blisters swelling up beneath his gloves, but it’s a good sort of pain. One of the shovels pilfered from the rear adjoining workshed of Marlon’s Monuments leans against his left shoulder with his arm slung over it. 

Vash tips back, farther and farther until he lies flat across the plane of metal. A dubious-looking raider pistol twirls off the end of his finger until it flies off and joins the pile gathered below their feet with a clatter and scattering of the other weapons caught in the tumble. He hugs the handle of the shovel against the front of his coat and clasps his fingers over his chest.

“See? I told you it was gonna be worthwhile to leave the Punisher and your belt with me for a bit,” he grins, turning his head to look up at Wolfwood. “Thought you would’ve been more excited about me asking you to take it off.”

The raiders are long gone, forced into a humiliated retreat after Vash convinced Wolfwood to put on enough of a show to lure them all near the imaging room in the remnants of the medical bay. 

“Just needed you to buy me a little time and look juicy.” 

Enough time for him to generate enough power to engage the magnets in the long-dormant MRI machine and summarily disarm every scavenger within a forty foot radius. There are still a plethora of dusty, greasy dirt angels and dents left on the walls where the unfortunate souls wreathed in heavy metals got pulled in along with their weapons. He left them at Wolfwood’s mercy while he hunted through the rubble for the quench button that would kill power to the magnets.

Whatever Nicholas had convinced them of by the time they were dumped on the floor, not a single scavenger stayed to challenge them.

“It all worked out. No one got hurt– mostly– they left, we were able to bury the colonists and all the others. Weirdly enough, the black box wasn’t where it was supposed to be but it didn’t look like it got destroyed, either.”

It is out there, somewhere, perhaps already pawned off to a novelty space-tech shop in the growing underbelly of December.  The SEEDS ship had been caught in low orbit for over a century and a half. He would have liked to learn the story of its crew. With Luida's help, it is likely they could have cross-referenced the passengers back to their descendants.

Light continues to spill out over the sand, glazing the landscape in a warm glow. He can't recall exactly when he stopped questioning the rise of the twin suns, wondering why it is that people can go on living.

This rhythm is altogether familiar yet also new in that they have yet to choreograph their next steps. Nothing has been preordained and the rest of the world is not in need. Not at this very moment.

Angelina II waits patiently for them in the shadow of the fallen ship.

“Anywhere you wanted to stop by before we head back? The girls are probably still a day or two out so we have some time.”

[causeimhappinesss]

His baby mama, part 2 (Corey Cunningham x reader)

PART 1

Pairing: Corey Cunningham x reader Warning: kidnapping Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language (I’m french), so you can correct me if you spot some mistakes :) + it’s gonna be a short story, so don’t seek a full development as you would in a novel

---

When you open your eyes, a thick veil of unconsciousness dissipates, revealing a dark room. Your head spins and your limbs feel numb with a strange sensation that sends shivers through your whole body, amplified by the coolness of the surroundings. Suddenly, you realize you’re in your basement. You try to move, but your movements are hindered by tight restraints that hold you to a dusty old mattress in a sea of forgotten boxes. Your hands are tied with a thick rope. Actually, it’s not tight enough, you can move a little, but it’s still reassuring.

What happened...?

Memories of yesterday come flooding back. Terror wells up inside you, a venomous snake wrapping itself around your heart and choking you. Why are you here? Where’s your baby? Panic overtakes you as you frantically search for answers, your eyes feverishly searching the dark corners of the cellar for a clue, a way out.

And then, like lightning in a storm, you see it. Your daughter, your precious treasure, sleeping peacefully in her crib beside you, oblivious to the threat in the air. A sigh of relief escapes your lips, though your anguish continues to clench your throat and twist your stomach. You lean over her and slide a hand over her soft tummy. She seems to be doing just fine. He hasn’t hurt her. More surprisingly, he didn’t kill you... That’s not Michael Myers modus operandi. So… why are you here? What does he want with you? The questions swirl around in your head and gnaw at your insides, without you understanding what’s going on.

Your trembling fingers slowly move up to touch the soft skin of her little hand. A shiver runs down your spine as you realize how vulnerable she is, how you’re both at the mercy of the surrounding darkness... At the mercy of a madman. You’re not stupid enough to believe that if you open the basement door, it will open and you’ll get on with your life as before. As if reading your mind, the creak of the sinister door pierces the silence. Your hair stands on end. Your heart misses a beat. The door opens slowly, revealing a menacing shadow. Your breath freezes in your throat and acid reflux surges up your throat, burning your windpipe.

And there, in the doorway, you see him. Michael Myers. His empty, dark gaze pierces you. He represents a silent threat that chills you to the bone. Fear paralyzes you and your limbs are refusing to answer to your desperate orders to flee.

You’re a prisoner in your own home, at the mercy of a faceless monster bent on your destruction. You feel your strength ebbing away, hope flickering in the darkness as you realize that you’re alone, powerless against the unspeakable horror befalling you.

The flickering light from the basement illuminates a strange figure, a man in a boogeyman mask standing there motionless, like a specter straight out of your darkest nightmares. You don’t understand, none of this makes sense. Your heart pounds in your chest as you instinctively step back, your baby in the crib next to you, a fragile barrier between you and this terrifying intruder.

"What do you want?" Your voice slightly shakes and you’re certain he can sense your fear... Like the wild animal he is.

The man doesn’t respond immediately, his gaze hidden behind the inexpressive mask of a boogeyman. He slowly moves in your direction, as his footsteps sinisterly echo in the room. You stand over the cradle, protective, ready to do anything to defend your child from this unspeakable threat... If you have to be stabbed 15 or 16 times like he did Judith to save her, you’ll do it. She’s the most precious thing in the world to you.

"What do you want?" you asked again, in a sharper tone.

Silence.

Annoyed, you grab the first thing that comes to hand – a box of condoms forgotten on a dusty shelf – and throw it at the masked man. He barely catches it before it hits his latex mask. He drops the condoms to the floor and slowly removes the serial killer’s mask. Your eyes widen. You think you’re dreaming. It’s impossible, isn’t it? You almost choke on your saliva. You’ve never been so disturbed in your life, so much so that your whole being is shaking like a leaf.

Corey.

Your ex, the father of your daughter.

The man you loved and still love.

"Corey?" you whisper, stunned, as if you were in a bad dream.

He looks at you with his dark eyes, reflecting a pain you can’t understand, beyond anything you could imagine. For the first time, you perceive something different… As if he’s not quite the nice guy you used to date.

"I’m sorry," he murmurs at last, his voice little more than a whisper.

You stand there, petrified, unable to move as the pieces of the puzzle begin to fall into place in your jumbled mind. Why is he there? Why is he covered in blood? Could it be that he’s usurped the notorious serial killer’s name for revenge…? Revenge on whom? So many questions loop in your mind.

"Corey, what happened?"

Your words are barely audible, a desperate plea in the oppressive darkness. He looks away, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his invisible burden.

"I need to talk to you…"

In the suffocating atmosphere, the echo of your breaths intermingles, in a song of fear and confusion. Corey stands before you, still in a menacingly silhouette, his piercing gaze on you… the gaze of a killer.

"We’re together now and no one can separate us," he declares in a deep voice, each syllable falling like a stab into your already wounded heart.

You stare at him, incredulous, unable to understand how events could have taken such a turn. Allyson, his girlfriend, a mere puppet in a game with rules you didn’t catch. Confusion fills you, mixed with a hint of dread, as you desperately try to make sense of it all.

“Corey, what are you talking about?" you gasp, your voice trembling.

He sneers, a cold sound devoid of any humanity.

"Allyson has been nothing but a pawn," he repeats, a touch of disdain tinting his words.

Your eyebrows furrow, your thoughts intertwining in a swirl of confusion and distrust.

"What do you mean?" you ask, anxiety tightening your throat like a vise.

Suddenly, Corey comes closer, his gaze anchored in yours. His hand firmly grasps your chin, forcing you to keep your gaze in his. A flush of panic rises in you, aware that a completely different man is standing in front of you right now… If only you could bring back the old Corey. Now he’s looking at you, as if he’s trying to read your soul, as if he likes to see the fear on your face.

"I hated the idea of you separating me from our daughter," he whispers. "You never gave me a chance."

You hold your breath, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic tumult as his words echo in your mind.

"You didn’t want to assume your paternity and you told me to get an abortion…" you retort, in a tone full of bitterness.

He glances down at the cradle where your daughter rests peacefully, her little arms waving in the air as she chirps, a sign that she’s just woken up to the sounds of your discussion. With a surprising delicacy, Corey takes her in his arms, and presses her against his chest, without hurting her, all of this with a gleam of tenderness in his eyes. One of his hands strokes your daughter’s curls, so similar to his own, then he presses a kiss to her forehead.

Something tells you that a new chapter is opening, charged with mystery and danger, but also with a glimmer of hope... Not forgetting the element of uncertainty.

However, the basement seems to shrink around you, its walls becoming oppressive, threatening to crush you. Corey is still standing in front of you, but he’s putting the baby back in the cradle. On the other hand, your struggle against the bonds holding you captive, icy anguish gripping your heart with its claws.

"Untie me, please," you beg in a trembling voice.

Corey shakes his head, a shadow of distrust hovering in his dark eyes.

"You’ll run," he declares in a calm but resolute voice, each word weighing like a silent condemnation.

You frown, your frustration mixed with a hint of anger.

"Why would I run away? I don’t understand you," you protest, a note of incredulity piercing your fragile voice. A beautiful lie you hope to serve him on a gold platter, but you both know very well why. You suspect he killed people that Halloween night. Something dangerous has awakened in him.

He scrutinizes you with his inscrutable gaze. Then, in a voice devoid of any empathy, he lets slip the brutal truth behind his mask of apparent calm.

"I killed my mother", he reveals coldly, his words reverberating in the heavy cellar air like echoes of doom. "She got what she deserved. And Ronald… Ronald was killed by some kids I wanted to eliminate. They threw me off a bridge a few days ago. Fortunately, I got them all, one by one… Their deaths were equivalent to their degree of involvement in my torment."

He smirks, then snicker. A shiver of fear rips through your spine and you wince as best you can. How can he announce such a thing so lightly? A wave of horror washes over you, a deadly embrace that compresses your chest and suffocates every part of your being. Your breath catches in your throat and your eyes mist with tears. This isn’t your Corey, this isn’t the man you loved. It’s a monster, a predator lurking in the shadows, ready to strike without mercy.

You feel trapped, imprisoned in a hell you can barely understand. Fear seeps into every fiber of your being, a throbbing pain that twists your insides. What are you going to do now that you know the truth? How can you escape this unspeakable horror that threatens you from all sides?

He slowly comes nearer, his face so close to yours so you can feel his warm breath skimming your skin. Your heart pounds in your chest. A wave of panic rises inside you and that same suffocating sensation threatens to engulf you.

"You’re gonna love me again like you used to," he whispers, in a voice as soft as it is tinged with madness.

Terrorized, you nod weakly, your eyes fixed on his, a flicker of despair in your gaze. He smiles, a smile devoid of warmth, a smile that chills you to the bone.

Then, in a dark, sinister voice, he breathes the words that echo like a warning in the tension-filled air: "You belong to me".

A shiver of horror runs down your spine as you realize the magnitude of the threat b You’re a prisoner in your own basement, at the mercy of a man you no longer recognize, a man who seems to have lost most of his humanity… He’s the darkness.

You’re trapped.

---

[Author’s notes] Should I write another part? Do you have ideas for another part? Again, sorry if it’s not developed enough. I would totally do it if I was writing one of my novels.

My Ko-fi: betrayedwriter My AO3: BetrayedWriter My Instagram: carolinemertz_

Want to read my novel if you know some french? Find them in my bio 😉

[glassgulls]

Sweet Conversations

Fandom: Lord Of The Rings Return of the King

Pairing: Haldir x fem!reader

Warnings: Mutual pining, lots of kissing some not very innocent. Nothing explicit but please be advised this spicier than general audience.

Summary: A chance conversation leads to a simple game with the sweetest of prizes.

Comments: This was inspired by this prompt list "let me teach you what a real kiss is". The thought of Haldir saying that to me seems to have short circuited my brain as this was supposed to be a drabble but ran away from me, hopefully not to the detriment of the piece. I also would very much like to be chased down by Haldir. I have no chill.

Word count: 5, 359

Your eyes were fluttered closed as thumbs smoothed over your cheek bones. The strong hands that are cupping your face so tenderly tilt it up slightly. Your parted lips are trembling as the whisper of breath fans over your face. 

You feel the shift of the body in front of you as they press closer, a nose nuzzles against your cheek and you whimper softly as chapped lips brush the corner of your own.

“Haldir.” You plead softly, your hands reach up and curl your fingers into his tunic, breath catching in anticipation of his touch. 

His voice was a low purr as he speaks your name, making you quiver. He has barely touched you but your heart is thundering in your chest you're sure Haldir's sharp ears can hear it. 

Your fingers grip his clothing, holding on to try to ground you in the moment. His lips trailed up to press softly against your temple.

His name tumbles from your lips like a plea, a prayer. Let him have mercy on you and finally kiss you like he had promised.

"Let me teach you what a real kiss is." The Marchwarden had stated earlier. Moving slowly closer into your personal space. The apex predator closing in on his cornered prey. 

His steps had been slow and cautious, always giving you time to refuse but you hadn't. You had taken a step back so your back was flush with one of the decorated columns in this secluded vista. Back arching slightly to bend your body towards him. Welcoming his approach, encouraging him closer, a luring siren. No one would pass by at this time of evening. It was why you had run here, leading Haldir on a merry chase so you two could finally be alone. 

Your heart had been full of courage then, all breathy laughs and gasps as you had weaved around the various areas of Lórien. Turning every now and then to make sure he was still there and thrilled to see the glimpse of him moving with an unhurried pace behind. But always within sight, once or twice within grasp but had not reached out. You knew he just wanted you to know that he could finish this in a moment. It was sheer indulgence on his part or perhaps he was just looking to see you finally tired out and close in with ease. 

You had giggled and squealed as you turned a corner to see him already there leaning on a wall with a ghost of a smile and had danced away to change direction. You knew your destination, you were positive that Haldir also knew but was corralling you along more quieter routes, neither of you wanted anyone disturbing your game.

You had paused at a small ornamental garden with a delicate fountain in the centre with flowers of heady scents planted in a careful pattern around the area. The beautiful statue holding a vase that was pouring gurgling waters in the centre shone in the early moonlight. Swiftly hiding behind the fountain you placed a hand on your chest to catch your breath, your heart beating frantically under your touch and you let your eyes flutter closed for a second to try to calm its frantic pace and listen for any approaching noise. 

Silence.

Opening your eyes you had caught the full moon gloriously starting its climb across the night sky. It’s silver visage reminding you of the blue eyes of your pursuer. A sharp blue under the sun but at night a brilliant flash of quicksilver whenever your gazes met. 

You had bitten your lip at the flash of memory as Haldir had openly stared at you at the party earlier in honour of you and companions. The flush of alcohol in your system had made you more playful than usual as you had joined in on the teasing chatter of your companions. 

“Who was your best kiss?” 

It had made you frown and dip your head down as the others had whispered the lurid details of the treasured moments. But when it had been your turn you had only sighed in melancholy. 

“I’ve never-” You had started and then Pippin had jumped in spluttering his drink everywhere.

“You’ve never been kissed?!” His shrill tone making people turn towards your group.

“No, of course I have!” You shouted a little too loudly and dropped your voice low again in a conspiratorial whisper. “They’ve just been nothing to write home about.” You shrugged and your gaze had flicked up to see a certain elf watching your group, watching you with a look that had made you suck on your lower lip and heat rush to your face. 

You recognised him of course, Haldir the Marchwarden of Lorien. He who had escorted you and your group through the forest now dressed tonight in a more casual tunic and leggings of grey and green. Haldir who had approached you later to ask your name and gave you a tour of the main part of the beautiful Elven city. Haldir that you now had nightly dreams about driving him quite mad with desire and shaking his famous composure.

Haldir who had clearly heard the drunken conversation and was pinning you where you stood with his blue eyes. Perhaps you were not the only one who was dreaming of less than innocent thoughts. 

You had excused yourself to get another drink and while at the serving table you had felt a presence at your elbow. You knew who it would be immediately. After all, being in your every waking and dreaming thought had made you hyper away of him.

“Marchwarden.” You spoke and let your gaze flick to him. He had already grabbed the bottle you were reaching for and offering to pour you a drink. His voice was calm and quiet as he spoke your name. Placing the bottle back down again you took a small sip and let your eyelashes flutter up at him, noticing the way his jaw clenched at the action.

“I couldn't help overhear your conversation from before.” He spoke with such a blase tone you had a hard time reconciling it with the way his fingers tightened around the bottle, knuckles going white when you had let your tongue peek out to chase the wine on your lips.

“Did you wish to contribute to the conversation?” You had asked in a careful tone and moved closer to him. Purposely brushing against his arm to reach for a plate of strawberries and smiling in relief at the way his body shivered at the contact. 

"Not with the rest of your companions, no.” He stated simply in a low tone that seemed to suggest a hint of collusion. An air of secrecy between you and him. The implications of that made you hum in excited satisfaction and gaze up at him. Girlish fancy bubbling up in you at the prospect that you and the handsome ellon would share something together. You finish the wine in your glass and delicately place it down.

Biting into the strawberry you couldn't help the sigh of content at its sweet taste and looked to the side as if deep in thought.

“Then perhaps it is something you would like to converse about somewhere more quiet?” You felt the low rumble of agreement rather than with your ear, it makes you wonder if he takes it for granted that you don’t have the sharp hearing of him and his kin.

“If that would please you, my lady.” He says, looking over the party with an aching parody of drollness that it makes you giggle under your breath. 

The ellon takes a strawberry also and lets his gaze flick back to you while taking a small bite from it. There’s a sizzle of tension between you both, hot and heavy like before a thunderstorm. Feeling the brave courage of the wine in your veins you scan the room to make sure there was no audience to you and Haldir's little game. 

Seeing no spectators you arched an eyebrow and plucked the strawberry from his hand and let it tap at your bottom lip a second before sinking your teeth into it and letting the juice almost fall from your lips. Haldir had watched you with rapt attention the whole time, made you revel in the dark cast of his brilliant blue eyes. Pupils swallowing the iris till they drowned the blue.

“Very well, I’m going outside to take some air.” You announced to him, your voice thick with desire before brushing past him. A trail of fingertips against his hand still by his side you had walked over to your friends and told them you were going to retire to your rooms and sauntered out fully aware you were being watched.

Outside you had taken a deep breath and tried to cool the blistering heat of want that sat under your skin. The drink, you imagine, was not the wisest choice to do while this clearly besotted with a near stranger.

Walking to the little railing that overlooked the city below you stopped, resting your hands on it. The sound of a footstep approached from behind made you smile and you resisted the urge to turn to them as they stood a hair's breadth away.

“Marchwarden.” You said again and risked a glance at him. He was staring below with a tint to his cheeks that you assumed was from the heat of the party inside.

“Haldir,” He corrected softly, then ducked his head down a moment and gave a small cough. “While we’re alone you may call me by my name.” Haldir paused. "If you should desire." He gave the correction as if he wasn't completely convinced of your intentions.

"I greatly desire that Haldir.” You breathed and gave a thrilled grin. The ellon beside you tightened his grip on the railing when you had spoken his name so you tried it again. Letting it draw from your lips slowly and deliciously, tasting it on your tongue. 

“You wished to discuss something with me, my lady?” Haldir spoke through gritted teeth. You tutted and tilted your head at him.

“You should call me by my name also Haldir like we are friends.” You chided him and watched as his knuckles went white gripping the railing.

“You wish, we should be friends?” He muttered quietly and you dropped the teasing smile from your face.

“No.” You confessed with the groan of yearning you had harboured for the ellon who stood next to you.

“Good,” He whispered with what seemed like a relieved exhale. You let your hand move closer to his own on the railing, just a soft brush of the tips of your fingertips had him shuddering. “You are playing a dangerous game.” Haldir let out with a soft growl like distant thunder. The rumble made you shiver and your toes curled at the forbidden images it stirred in you. 

“If it’s a game you want to play I shall oblige you Haldir,” You had teased softly letting the evening breeze carry your voice away. 

Pulling away from the railing Haldir had followed the movement with a puzzled expression. Standing there with your hands clasped behind your back you felt the breeze flutter the skirt of your dress as you looked at the ellon with liquid courage in your belly.

“We can continue our conversation after.” You finished and attempted a coy smile but it shrank when he stood and loomed over you. A hot flame of unbridled lust hit you, licked up your spine at the sheer presence Haldir had. 

“And what is the game?” Haldir asked, tilting his head and with a curious voice.

"We can continue once you catch me." You breathed rising up and down slightly on your tiptoes. Haldir's stance changed, the curious puzzlement shifted into a coiled hunch. His head tilted again and it made you think of the large beasts in the forest. Eyes quick and teeth sharp ready to chase down and strike. 

You ran your tongue over one of your canine teeth. A show of bravado, a taste of your intent, a glimpse who you really were. You were no child to tease and run. You were a woman who knew what she wanted and more than capable of biting back. 

Haldir stands completely still and poised, awaiting the rules of the game. The only glimpse of emotion was that the ellon  swallowed hard at your action, his adam's apple bobbing.

"What prize do I win when I catch you?" Haldir asked and you know your own eyes are mirroring his own dilated with desire.

"Perhaps you shall be able to give me the kiss I shall always think of." You responded sweetly and his lips curled for a split second.

"I accept," He stated calmly without hesitation. "I will teach you what a real kiss is." He promised.

You can't help the rush of excitement, the arousal his gaze ignites in you as he takes one step forward. 

Taking one step back you had bitten your lip to stop the gasping giggle of nerves in your chest. He was still staring, unblinking, muscles clearly bunched and coiled even under the loose tunic. Broad shoulders rolled with anticipation and, Eru, that made you feverish with want. 

"Will you grant me a head start Marchwarden?" You ask breathely and Haldir's unwavering stare slowly blinks. Like he's engrained the sight of you behind his eyes. He gave a soft hum of acknowledgement and nod of his head.

Then with a slight curtsy and cocky grin you turned on your heel and sprinted into the evening.

That was how you had ended up hiding behind the fountain. Your anticipation of his promised kiss made you almost falter in your steps so he would finally catch you. But you would play this game, race to the finish line and win your prize. 

A light step stirred from behind and you held your breath. You had taken a peek from your hiding spot and gasped when long strong fingers were curled on the corner of the fountain behind you. The index finger tapped twice before sliding to hide again. You failed to hold back a giggle escaping you and strained your ears to pinpoint his next move. Your heartbeat thundered in your chest, fingers gripped your skirts in readiness to bolt again. 

A flash of blond hair from your right and you fled yelping and laughing. Reaching the other side of the garden you turn and see Haldir where you had been hiding, his hand on the spot where your body had been seeming to memorise the warmth your body had been. He looked up to see you there and there's a look of such longing that it knocked the breath from you. The urge to run to him filled your bones, thrummed in your veins, choking off your breath.

Instead you had given him a smile, brimming with your own yearning, your desperate need. There had been a long moment when you both stood there trying to convey to one another your heart's desire.

After a heartbeat Haldir stood straight again and smirked, alerting you immediately. Maintaining eye contact he made a deliberate step forward. Tensing up you gave another squeak of excitement and bounded off into the dark. 

Running, the night air whipped around you as you weaved through the familiar paths. Your feet made light work as you neared the end goal, your final destination.

Moonlight suddenly enveloped you as you reached the end goal. You had seen this remote spot in an earlier visit with your handsome tour guide. A small garden with columns surrounding a bench with sweet scented roses. 

Stopping in the garden close to one of the columns you spun around, your dress swirling at your waist. Behind in the dark of the pathway you caught a glimpse of silver hair, raising a hand to your chest you try to calm your chittering nerves.

Slowly, step by step Haldir crept into the garden. You were clearly reminded of who he is, what he is, Marchwarden and guardian of this place. Lifetimes trained to defend, a sentinel of silent deadliness. A hunter who now had his eyes trained on you. 

You fail to suppress the shudder that goes through you, goosebumps rippling across your skin as you finally make eye contact with him. Shadows gave way, falling from him, as Haldir was finally fully bathed in moonlight. 

He approached slowly, seeming to sense the excitement in you. Whether the ellon wanted to make certain you were still sure of your earlier intent or perhaps it was in his nature as a hunter to approach his prey with caution? A cornered animal is at its most dangerous then after all.

So with that you lifted your chin up and taken another step back to feel the reassuring presence of the stone column behind you. Your eyes never strayed from the ellon coming towards you, the thundering in your chest is now not because of the chase. Haldir tilted his head again and paused.

"You give up?" He asked, curious and almost disappointed that you had stopped.

"We will be alone here, yes?" You counter and Haldir nods, blinking slowly.

"No one visits here at this time." He confirms and you relaxed against the column.

"Good," Your voice was barely a whisper as you threw him a reassuring smile. "No one to interrupt our discussion." You finished grinning at him.

Haldir hovered a little closer and gave a little laugh.

"You are very different." He said and moved into your personal space. Tilting your head back to keep his gaze you pouted a little.

"Is that bad?" You asked.

"No," he breathed and let one arm lean on the column you rested on. Leaning down he crowds in on you, and your breath quickened. You could smell his scent, wild and fresh like the forest surrounding this haven. 

"No, living as long as I have, different, should be celebrated." He explained moving to bring his lips to your ear, his nose traced the shell of it. The tremble that it elicits causes you to bite your lip with a catch of breath. 

"Will you claim your prize?" You ask hoarsely, your eyelashes fluttered as he pressed closer. Tilting your head again you let your lips brush against the alluring column of Haldir's neck. Your mouth close enough to his skin you could taste him on your lips. He hummed deeply in his chest, the vibrations rumbled through you both. 

"Soon." He promised his breath against your ear making you whimper. "I will teach you what a real kiss is."

Haldir shifted his body and with a little trepidation ran his hands along your jaw. You let your eyes open to see his gaze studying you. Those impossible blue, now sliver regarding you closely, to gauge any discomfort on your part. 

Raising your own hands you let them rest on his, your thumbs stroking against the battle  scarred skin of his. Through parted lips you darted your tongue out to wet them and couldn't help the sense of satisfaction at his sharp intake of breath at your action. 

"You tease me." He muttered in an accusatory tone.

"I don't know what you mean Marchwarden." Your laugh is an indecent purr. 

His eyes roll white a moment at the way you address him as a violent tremble shaked him. When Haldir looks at you again the tease in you curls up as his gaze ripped through you, stripping you bare to bone. Naked and vulnerable under the watchful moon, those hunters' eyes are almost black. 

A small ancestral part of you hisses danger to you. Run, run, little thing before you get gobbled up, consumed in one bite.

Another grin tugs your lips, showing teeth wide and bright. You're no little mouse to hide, you have your own claws, your own hunger. Haldir's lips twitch then curl into a small smile before he whispers your name. Soft like velvet across your skin, a dark caress that fills your mind, that has you close your eyes to savour the sensation.

The adrenaline is a heady concoction with the earlier wine, feeling daring you move your hands from his and let them rest on Haldirs chest. Your fingers smoothed over the hard defined muscle under his loose tunic. 

The ellons own had moved to tilt your face up, calloused worn thumbs swept over your cheekbones. Haldir's name rolled off your tongue as it always did in your dreams of him, full of want and longing. It felt strange to say it aloud, sacrilegious to be able to speak it so. This perfect being you had fantasised about was now holding you, caressing you like he had dreamed of this also.

The scent of roses clung to his skin as you both stood curled around each other. Neither wanting it to end, let the night hold you like this forever and that is how you had stayed. Haldir pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, eyelids and brow. You grew more feverish and whimpered for him to finally bestow the finishing blow and kiss you fully.

Your fingers tangle in his tunic dragging him close, loathed to let any space between you both. 

Haldir sings your name and you open your eyes to see him watching you. There's a wrinkle in his brow, a tension to his shoulders as a hand moves to cup your jaw. Sweeping your hands you curl them around his neck and let your nails drag softly against his skin. He seems nervous, or as close to an approximation to it that you can tell. It's a sharp contrast from his usual stoic demeanour. 

Silken hair cascades over your fingers, like silver moonlight. Curling your fingers through it you ventured this was as close as to holding starlight, it's utterly bewitching. The fingers that still brush softly at the nape of Haldir's neck dip tantalising below the neck of his tunic. There's a hint of that bulk of muscle shifting again, like the roll of thunder, a force of nature. 

The fluttering if your heart beats out a frantic tattoo as Haldir's arms wrap around you. It's with a delicate care, testing your boundaries when you feel his fingers stroke your waist. A soft gasp escapes you as his free hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, strong fingers tangling in your hair as he tugs your heads back exposing your neck. 

Haldir's name chokes out your dry throat, when his breath fans across your pulse point, his nose nuzzling just under your ear. A whimper reverberates through you at plush lips pressed against your neck, the sensation as they made a slow trail along to your jugular and the fingers in your hair strong and insistent to keep you in place make you giddy.

Instinctively drag your nails along the perfect skin under your fingertips making Haldir groan softly. Your reward is the sharp scrape of his teeth that rips a sound from you that borders on animalistic. 

Haldir presses soft open mouthed kisses in a soothing gesture but it's too late for you. The feverish dizziness consumes you, shaking you to the core. Heady intoxication from wine is a poor comparison to the way your blood sings in your veins under his touch. You hold Haldir tight to you, convinced you can both stay like this forever, drunk on each other under the moon.

The fingers on your waist splay out, the searing heat of them surely branding you. Haldir nips at your throat again letting out a low pitched moan that you answer with your own. He must be leaving marks that a deep animalistic part of you craves. Dipping your fingers under the neck of his tunic again you claw at Haldir making him grunt and press you hard against the column. 

Arching against him you give a keening cry and eyes roll in your head at a hot sensation on your skin. A questing tongue flicking and dragging against your neck tasting you, his lips moving higher to your ear.

Haldir's nose nuzzles against you again, his own breath hurried as his fingers tighten on you. There's a sense of proud accomplishment that you of all people have caused this transformation in the Marchwarden. He's whispering in a low purr words you can't understand but the tone you can, it mirrors your own gasping pleas of want. 

"Please." You beg with no mind to your pride. Haldir groans low in his throat and the fingers on your waist disappear but before you mourn their loss you feel them again on your jaw. Haldir's thumb presses on your bottom lip and you instinctively nip and lick at it. A shudder rips through the ellon wrapped around you at your action.

The fingers on your jaw tighten for a second before twisting your face to his own. His lips are so close to your own you feel his panting breath, the heat of his already kiss swollen lips. Opening your eyes you look at him with a teary gaze, unable to hide the sheer desperation in them. 

Haldir meets your gaze with dark eyes, pupils blown wide.

"Haldir," you groan. "Please have pity on me." His eyes dip to your lips as you lick them.

"Yes meleth nin," Haldir's usual calm composed voice now choked out and gruff. "I shall take pity on us both." He stated.

Giving a rattled breath your eyes flutter close as Haldir presses his lips to your own, you both sigh in sated anticipation. His kiss is a lingering taste to savour you as he nips and sucks at your plush lips. Long and careful movements that unravel you with precision. Nothing can compare to this, your dreams and fantasies are poor fare to the reality. 

With your soft hiccups and moans Haldir's resolve starts to waver. What started out as a soft press of lips quickly evolves into a messy clash of teeth and tongue. Your fingers in Haldir's hair tug insistently, a warning not to stop. Haldir grunts and his fingers on your jaw near the border on bruising, but you have no mind to care. You'll wear them and his other marks with quiet pride.

Sliding your tongue against Haldir's you gasp which Haldir swiftly swallows. Sucking on his bottom lips causes a growl from the Marchwarden that makes your toes curl before he dives back in at you again. 

His ministrations make you reel, like a leaf in a storm whipped around. Hypoxia bleeds into your vision as you shiver and moan, Haldir stealing your breath. You pull away a moment and gulp air inelegantly, your hand not trapped in Haldir's hair cups his jaw, then move to trace his swollen lips to keep contact with him. 

Haldir presses soft kisses to your fingertips and when he sees you have your breath returned pushes past your hand to claim your lips again. Your fingers twitch and grapple to find purchase in Haldir's onslaught. 

You finally settle on his jaw again letting them flutter up to trace his ears. The reaction is visceral, violent shivers rocks through Haldir as he moans loudly. His chest heaves against your own as you meld into one another. Another desperate grapple at one another ensues to conquer, to consume the other, to become one.

Before you can press this advantage Haldir pulls away abruptly causing you to fall forward into him. He pulls you against his chest, letting you catch your breath. 

Tilting your head up you look to him confused but he's looking away into the darkness of the corridors beyond.

"Someone was approaching," he says softly, his fingers rubbing softly at the base of your head. You let your head rest against his chest, tucked safely under his chin. Words are beyond you as you try to reclaim your wits again but sure you're punch drunk. 

"It is getting late, perhaps we should continue our conversation tomorrow?" He states his question wavered with hope.

"Yes, tomorrow." You whisper into his chest loathed to move from his scent.

"I know of a place where no one will interrupt us, some place I would like to share with you."  Haldir states softly running a hand up your back, tracing your spine. 

You press yourself against him and sigh with content at the promise of tomorrow. Of Haldir wanting to share something precious of his life with you. 

"I would like that very much, Haldir." You reply and feel him shift slightly. The hand on your back moves to tilt your face up to look at him again. There's a look of satisfaction on his face for a mere moment at your appearance, soft doe-eyed and docile in his arms.

"Will you allow me to escort you back to your room?" He asks and you stifle a laugh. After what you had both just done, how he had reduced you to a quivering mess, to have him sound so proper was equal parts amusing and heartwarming.

"Please." You reply and take a moment to figure out if your legs will cooperate after the heady onslaught of a moment ago.

As you pull back slightly you straighten your clothing and idly hope you don't run into anyone on the way back. You must look like a complete shambles. Seemingly reading your thoughts Haldir reaches out and tucks some errant hair behind your ear before pressing close to kiss you again.

You squeak in surprise before melting against him again. The frantic energy from before still sizzles under your skin but Haldir seems to have a presence of mind to pull back again. 

Standing stupefied you feel Haldir tuck your arm through his own and whisk you away along unfamiliar paths. There's a sharp pang of grief of having to leave the sanctuary of moonlight and roses. But Haldir's presence at your side eases it immediately. 

There's twists and turns along darkened corridors that you are eternally grateful for being empty. Though you knew that was due to your guide's expertise in stealth, his feet lead you seemingly by second nature on desolate paths.

Soon enough you saw the familiar door of your room and a dread filled you at the realisation of having to separate from the ellon at your side.

Slowing down you both reach the door and begrudgingly you slip your arm free from Haldir. There's the distant noise of the party still in the throes of going on but all you want is the next day to come. 

Standing before Haldir you feel suddenly coy. Looking up at him under your lashes you fold your hands primly in front of you. You're sure anyone who may see would be adequately fooled into thinking you a chaste soul. And not the raging maelstrom of lust that the handsome Marchwarden stirs in you. 

Haldir tilts his head at your act and there's a moment of his eyes darkening again before he takes control of himself.

"Thank you for the tour, I enjoyed our conversation." You say saccharin sweet, Haldir ducks his head down a moment to hide the huff of a laugh.

"Hopefully it was memorable." He quips and you can't stop the small giggle escaping you as he glances up at you again.

"It was," you reply "Though I'm afraid my memory may fail me and I will need reminding Marchwarden." You confess softly and can see the twitch of his lips before his expression falls back into the easy mask of composure.

"I'm at your disposal my lady." Haldir pledges. Giving a small bow to you, he rises and you see the twinkle of mirth and promise in those beautiful blue eyes.

"Till tomorrow then?" You ask with baited breath. Haldir breaths quietly and you're quite sure he's fighting the urge to kiss you again. 

"Tomorrow and many more." He vows.

[kocherry]

Click here for the full masterlist for my Nun!Reader mini-series ♡

Be With Me For Evermore

Capitano x Nun!Reader

Hello minna! I have another shortfic of my nun reader brainrot xD This is also an extension of my contribution for Valentine's Day ♡ Do enjoy reading as this is told from Capitano's POV

Content: Fluff, NSFW implications, Slight Angst, Religious Sacrilege, TW for Blood

< 3.3k words under the cut >

"Archon of mine, Tsaritsa, Your Majesty forgive me for I have fallen from grace."

Capitano knelt down with one knee, a hand gripping onto his sword pierced into the soft grassy ground. He lowers his head as he prays to the ever cold and beloved Cryo Archon asking for mercy.

Capitano's loyalty is questioned by none other than himself. He worships his archon and yet he wanted to put you in a pedestal instead.

The first time you two ever met was when some knights and his own men fought each other for petty reasons. He had assessed the situation and the knights were to blame for starting the fight. Oh how he recalls the way you blocked his sword from ever touching those knights

Capitano raised his sword his gaze is cold towards the knights who kept begging for mercy. He never would give that because they were the ones who instigated the fight and dishonored his soldiers. His grip tighten and his sword moves downwards.

"That is enough."

A threatening voice came from a woman as a bright red glow of an arrow blocked his sword from ever hitting the knights.

He whips his head to the direction where the arrow came from. And there he saw you standing up from the hill. You held a bow in a firing position and the veil on your head flow with the wind uncovering your face.

"Who gave you the right to judge them to death for a petty squabble?"

You had a calm expression but your face betrayed the fire in your eyes that sent chills down Capitano's spine.

"What do you propose to do?" He lowers his sword as stands tall.

"A duel."

The Fatui under his lead laughed underestimating a nun. Meanwhile the Knights of Favonius were relieved that you would save them. It was an odd reaction  considering he is deemed as the strongest human alive.

Are you powerful enough to beat him?

"Very well, state your conditions of this duel as I would honor a tradition in your homeland."

Capitano couldn't forget how he still could feel the pump of his heart getting louder as he anticipated a fight of his liftetime. No one would dare have a duel with him without knowing they would lose. Oh how he is excited to see what you're capable of.

At that time he didn't know that he had mistaken the thrill of battle for his growing affections.

"The day she defeated me was the first time I have ever began to admire her..."

How could he really avoid falling for an absolute ferocious fighter? You had outsmarted him in that duel, his men called her a cheater but to him, you just bended the rules to compensate for your lack in brute force.

And then Captain's admiration grew stronger when he had tried to get to know you.

"I have fallen for a Nun that worships the Anemo Archon. Her smile is bright, her eyes are bewitching, and her soul burns with passion."

Everything about you deserves to be worshipped not because of your fearless encounter with him. But because of how he had came to admire you entirely.

That's why his prayer is not asking for repentance but forgiveness and guidance for his feelings.

Normally the Captain is neither excited nor disappointed if he is sent out on expeditions. He would treat missions as such and emotions weren't needed in the battlefield. However he broke this habit of his when visited Mondstadt... He is rather excited to see you again.

A fiery arrow flew fast towards Capitano's helm but he managed to catch it before it could hit him. Beneath his mask he smirks at the sudden attack towards him. A rather amusing situation he is in right now.

"Did I surprise you?"

He asks, but he didn't take any insult that you tried to shoot him. You were rather cautious and shown that you distrust him.

"Very much so, I thought a Lawachurl is heading this way but it was only you." Youu never lowered your bow and kept your stance ready to fire another arrow at him if he gets to close. "State your business, Harbinger of Snezhnaya."

Yes this was indeed a good trait of yours, at least he is assured that you could handle yourself.

"I would like to have another duel."

If he could teach you how to defend yourself against stronger opponents he reassured you would be there to greet him the next time he is in Mondstadt

Although he would prefer if you wouldn't try and kill him everytime he approaches you.

That was the moment where your relationship with the Captain improved. A second duel became third, fourth, and so on. Having to battle each other refined a strong bond between the two of you. Capitano doesn't realize it but because of him you managed to finally feel free in the nation of freedom.

"Sister (Y/N)'s life in Mondstadt wasn't kind to her just like as my own hometown wasn't kind to me. In her presecence and in her arms I found a kindred spirit. I could only hope she also found comfort in me."

He contemplates about how you both became close and how you opened up to him about your situation.

In all honesty, the pyro vision that hanged by your neck didn't fit your situation at all. But it fit the fierceness in your soul in which Captano had really liked about you. However despite having blessed with a vision, you were also cursed.

You were a little dove shackled inside her cage.

"To prove to them I can be of use, I decided to hunt down the The Great Snowboar King in Dragonspine." You were having a small smile on your lips as if the time of your hardships is the very reason why you are here today. "And that was when I got my vision." You caress the glowing pyro vision on your chest.

Capitano reaches out for them and you let him touch your vision. It was proof of your ambition to fight for the life you deserve.

"I was so excited to show it to my father and mother hoping that my vision would release me from the shackles that binded my freedom." Your expression became sad once more and it ache Capitano's heart to see you in such state.

"I damned myself because they put me in a cage." You talk as if your vision is blessing and yet it is also a curse. "The saving grace I only had when the Grand Master of the Knights offered me a position in the Church. It gave me a little taste of this nation's freedom. And despite everything I can still feel the cage on my hands and the shackles on my feet binding me."

Grand Master Varka is a person that Capitano often hear from you with words of admiration. At first he often wonder if this Varka is the one whom you love. Only to find out he is also the sole reason of why you were able to have this conversation with him.

Perhaps Capitano can give you the freedom you always wanted.

"Forgive me, my story got so depressing, the point is I'm not really what you had imagined me to be. I'm just a poor little dove who's just there hoping for anyone... anyone to free me."

Capitano reached out for your cheek, he brushes your veil, and with a nod of approval he removes the headpiece entirely.

Though he always sees your face he never had seen you this vunerable. Without the veil covering your entire head it felt like he was seeing another side of you. A side of you that showed him your true feelings, one that he is honored to see.

"Thank you for wiping my tears, I think I feel better now that you heard my story."

And when you held his hand that was on your cheek and kiss his knuckles. Capitano is blushing underneath the dark void of his mask.

Another kiss is then placed on the side of his helm... and Capitano knew he is doomed to always think about how your kisses would feel against his lips.

Ever since the day you opened up to Capitano, you already gave your full trust to him. Only he had doubt it because he felt like he is unworthy of that trust. You trusted him thinking you finally had a kindred spirit and a friend. Capitano on the other hand thought about wanting you as a lover.

Perhaps it's the fact you weren't afraid and able to stand up for yourself against him. He is able to see someone eye to eye, metaphorically of course since you're rather shorter than him. But even if your height only reached his chest, he somehow feels like he is smaller to you.

"Is this how love would punish me? Or is this how its suppose to feel? Tell me Your Majesty... Do I see myself beneath her or do I see myself in doubt?"

How he hated to feel that way, confused and utterly lost on what to do next. When you approached him that day in his camp on Dragonspine, all his doubts were erased.

Remembering whay happened that night, he then continues his prayers to the Tsaritsa.

"If you are hearing my prayer Archon of mine, forgive me for I have deeply sinned in the name of love... my feelings caused me to desecrate her virtue." He knows that you were vowed to remain untouched and pure in honor of your worship to the Anemo Archon. And yet he destroyed your promise... just as how he destroyed his own vows to the Tsaritsa.

The Captain questioned his own loyalty because he feels like he is irrational when it comes to you.

"Dear Tsaritsa is it really a sin to have love (Y/N)?"

"I didn't know where else to go."

Capitano drops his pen on his desk as he stares at you blankly. And luckily for him his helmet masked his flustered state. He certainly didn't expect you to visit him so late at night.

If a woman visits a man at this hour it would mean...

Oh nevermind that you were bleeding through your white uniform.

"Who did this you?" He stands up striding towards you holding your chin up to his.

The dark void of his mask studies your features, you were utterly healed and yet the look of your eyes tells him you're in pain. Despite having shown a calm anger, Capitano's hands were shaking.

"The Lawrence Clan..." He whispered the name of your family as he then releasss his hold onto you. He was about to leave his tent when you suddenly embraced him from the back.

"Please don't... I don't need you to avenge me Capitano remember I can heal myself." Yes your pyro vision could heal yout physical injuries but it couldn't heal the ache in your heart. "I came here because... you're the only one I can trust. I just really wanted to see you..."

Capitano's anger dissipated as he could hear how utterly needy you were of him. He doesn't mind that you had come to him for comfort. By all means... he already decided you could use him for your own happiness and comfort.

And yet...

Why is does it feel like he's using you for his own selfish reasons? Especially when he had suggested to go to a more private place... like the cave of Starglow Cavern. How utterly perverse his ways are.

Could he really think that way when his cock is buried deep within the walls of your tight pussy? And yet you were enjoying this act of sin.

Your moans were loud and your mind went blank as he kept pounding deep inside you. The cold stone walls and his sturdy chest trapped you in a haze of pleasure.

Capitano whispers sweet words against your ear as he shifts the position. He sits on the makeshift bed and let his cock bury even deeper inside you.

It hit a delicious spot making you scream.

The way your mouth gape made Capitano swallow, you were utterly undressed while he only discarded his layered coat and armor. You had shown your soul to him first and now your body as well.

He only had shown you his heart filled with affection. "Before we start again, would you kindly remove my helmet my little blaze?" Even with his growing hesitation... he could trust that you wouldn't be disgusted with what you would see.

"Are you sure?" You ask in shock by his request.

"Absolutely, I want to kiss you (Y/N)." He huskily whispers as his thumb trace circles on your already bruised hips.

He could feel your small hands making an effort to remove the heavy helmet. And when you did remove it, Capitano didn't look away. He wanted you to see that he too is a human.

"You're breathtaking." You whisper as you craddle his face on your palms and press your lips against his.

Capitano breath's hitch as he had finally got a taste of your soft lips. His cock twitch inside your pussy causing you to whimper a moan. His tongue then slithered inside your mouth as his hand kept your chin in place.

He kisses you passionately and you returned those ferocious emotions as well. The grip on your hips tightened as he wraps his free hand around your waist bringing your hips down.

"C-Capitano!" You moan loudly as he started to thrust his hips again. Hands flew onto his shoulder gripping on them tightly leaving scratch marks in their wake.

Capitano didn't think anymore and neither did you as well. All you two ever wanted is each other, kindred spirits connected in each others body. You both chase the pleasure in exploring each others bodies that night until one of you can no longer stay conscious.

Capitano rose from his feet and stood up, his prayer is about to end. "How utterly foolish I was to have bedded her in amidst of her vows. But I would not regret that night as she had accepted me as I am." He turns back to the city of Mondstadt with a heavy heart.

"Though she have rejected my marriage proposal, may she find freedom with what I had done for her. Dear Tsaritsa... I pray that I would not love anyone else but her. No one could ever make me feel this way again."

He couldn't blame you honestly, for what could he offer other than a marriage of convenience? A marriage when he isn't home most of the time? A marriage where he may die one day and leave you all alone? A marriage of love... that he wouldn't have.

"Marry me (Y/N), and I promise you will not be caged like a bird. I will let you fly and I only wish that you will have me at your side."

Capitano could feel the thumping of his heart getting louder and his hands were trembling in nervousness. He confessed about his love then proposed to have you be free of your family's burdens.

You on the other hand suddenly froze as you let go of his hold. You bring your hands near your chest not knowing how to respond to his proposal.

"If I were to be your wife, you will treat me as your equal?" You grip onto your long white dress.

"I want you to always be there just like how we've been doing as always." He answers immediately and it sounded nice, the duels, the battles, the sharing of stories with his comrades, and the soft kisses being secretly shared.

And yet that newly found freedom scared you.

"Capitano I... I don't know."

The Harbinger is shattered by your indirect rejection. He kept his composure well and remained standing tall.

"I see but if you would ever change your mind I would still be here before sunrise tomorrow. Her Majesty is calling me back in Snezhnaya." He replies and the tone of his voice is filled with disappointment but with a heavy heart... he must accept your decision.

"Will you come back?" You were absolutely lost and yet hopeful, despite not being able to give an answer... Capitano is pleased that you would want to see him again.

"I will."

He answers while gently caressing your cheek with the knuckles of his armored fingers.

Capitano lied, he never will come back, he already have a letter sent to him by the Jester. They were going to have him stay within Snezhnaya for quite a while. Missions by the motherland always takes years to finish. But he doesn't want you to feel like he's making you come with him impulsively.

If you want him... then by all means come tomorrow before sunrise. Only that way he would be reassured that you came to him because you love him not because you have any choice.

"That is all what I say to my prayers to you, Your Majesty. May you guide my journey back to the homeland." Capitano looked up into the sky and it was almost time for the fake sky to began to glow bright again.

He would leave Mondstadt today with a heavy heart. But at least he would leave with reassurance that you will not suffer in the hands of the Lawrence Clan ever again.

It was a few hours after you had seemingly rejected his proposal. He barged into the estate of the Lawrence Clan. With his sheer intimidation and use of power imbalance your parents released their hold onto you. He is able to gain your freedom, he knew that marriage might not be an option.

Capitano may be ruthless in the battlefield but in the duel of gaining your heart... he would let your happiness win. That is why he opened the cage you had settled in and broke the chains that shackled you.

You were now a free little dove and if he wouldn't be part of your new life... then so be it. As long as you were going to fly and see the world in your own eyes. Just as you had always dreamed since you were a child.

"Let us depart, my comrades."

Capitano pulls the reins of his horse as the rest of the Fatui soldiers followed after his lead.

He would never look back in Mondstadt again because all he could ever remember is your smile. One that he would never see again... he would waste in his lonely desolate tower of melancholic heavy heart. He awaits by an open door and fools himself you'll walk right in and be with him for evermore.

"CAPITANO!!!"

Oh how wrong he was as he heard your voice call out to him.

Capitano turns his head up and saw that there is a bright light that illuminated the road. It wasn't the fake sun but it was you who embodied your pyro vision. You were finally a free little dove as fiery red feathers surrounded your body in the shape of a flying bird.

As the pyro died down around your body, Capitano is smiling behind his mask as he opens his arms to catch you. He was waiting for this ever since the day you had defeated him in a duel.

"My answer is yes, I want to marry you."

You place a kiss on his helm making him rumble a deep chuckle. He gently nudges your cheek with his helm as he wraps his arms around your waist tightly.

He would never let you go now that you were his.

"I love you, (Y/N)."

"And I love you too, Captain."

You were finally his and Capitano is finally yours and together you'll be with each other for evermore.

A/N: ayo i am absolutely tipsy rn so I don't know how tf did this shortfic came out I'll probably edit this tomorrow once I'm sober in case there are any errors lmaooo Anyways don't drink and type fanfics 💀

[shadykazama]

Genji Shimada

So I asked my friend which Overwatch character I should do my next alphabet headcanons about and they said Genji! So I'll be doing Genji next, probably later today.

However while I was thinking about him the thought of his cybernetics came to mind and I went off on a full blown tangent about it so I figured I'd post my thoughts on how much of Genji is a cyborg before I do his relationship stuff.

This is blackwatch, Genji, I don't know if this is canon or not but for the sake of this I'm saying it is. So as far as body parts go he's definitely missing his legs knee and under. I think he's wearing armor over his thighs though, he has intact femurs. He's missing his right arm and there's some kind of internal damage in his upper chest.

His eye piece comes off seperate to his mouth piece but that doesn't mean his mouth is robotic, I just think he takes the mask part off less often. His head and heart are all intact according to voice lines and evidence from skins.

Now might I direct your attention to his canon skins. We know from the short "Dragons" that those green circles on his upper body have a release mechanism meaning they manage pressure of some kind within his body.

(We can also see there's less of them in his OW2 design so it's a possibility they got upgraded to be more efficient.)

Now I'm about to lay down my biggest actual headcanon without much evidence besides speculation and "it'd be cool" to back it up.

I think Genji has robotic lungs.

WILD TAKE I KNOW BUT HEAR ME OUT.

He can eat, heard in the voice line about him being able to handle mercy's coffee, so we know his mouth is intact, along with the rest of his digestive system. I think the mouth part of his mask is to help him breathe. I think there was major damage to his respiratory system to the point where they had to make the choice to give him mechanical replacements, hence the need to release pressure when he exerts a LOT of energy (like after his fight with hanzo in the cinematic).

He breathes in game, so we know he needs lungs. Which makes sense if most of his main organs are intact. If the main damage was to his lungs, they could give him robotic ones. And my claim of them not giving him a lung transplant is supported by the fact that Mauga was given a second CYBERNETIC heart instead of a replacement when he was critically injured.

Also in the Doomfist origin cinematic when he threw Genji into a car he started sparking and held his chest, which I know may just be "oh he's a robot of course" written off, but it'd make sense if it was his lungs!! It would put him out of a fight if he can't supply oxygen to the rest of his body. Plus it would hurt him in his chest!

Going off of this, he can definitely breathe without the mask and obviously would need to take it off to eat (he has a lot of scarring on his throat I think, and maybe his jaw) but the mask hides the scar tissue and helps regulate his breathing more naturally. Now I'm not a doctor so this next part may make no sense, and let me know if it does but maybe the mask is connected to his lungs in like a nervous system kind of way? Since they wouldn't be connected to his nervous system entirely? So when he takes the mask off he has to manually breathe. Like the mask regulates it for him so he can do it subconsciously but without the mask it's a conscious manual breathing situation.

And my only real arguments for him not having a robotic heart instead of lungs is his voice line that says "The heart of a man still beats inside of me." Which of course could be metaphorical, "I'm still the same man, just with a different body." Kind of thing, but also he just never takes off that freaking mouth piece so I was thinking it had to serve a purpose!

Lol I'll get to work on my headcanons now but let me know what y'all think of this 🙏

[heartrenderxnina]

the girl and the wolf

The permafrost was as brutal as she remembered, but luckily, Matthias found a shelter and now she was on her way to pick up some branches for the fire. So, here was the thing, Nina wasn’t exactly the best person to keep track of directions, and now here she was, absolutely lost.

“That’s great, Nina”, she muttered to herself as she tried to go back on her tracks. Ugh, why did everything have to look the same?

It felt as if she was walking in circles, the trees looked the same, the river was still on her right. Nina didn’t want to start panicking, but it was hard not to. She was going to die, here, in Fjerda, in the fucking Permafrost. The snow was going to bury her corpse and Matthias would never be able to find her. Not so thankfully, a snap of a branch forced her out of her train of melodramatic thoughts.

“Matthi–”, she began but instead, someone else appeared. A man with a uniform that she knew all too well. Instinctively, Nina took a step back. The man was tall with a large beard, and had wild brown eyes, full of suspicion and hatred.

“Oh, good sir, thank Djel you showed up!” Nina spoke in perfect fjerdan, already coming up with a, hopefully, convincing lie. “I thought I was going to die here… my husband, he must be so worried…”, she continued to speak, doing her best to adopt a modest and humble posture, like most fjerdan women.

She could see how the man’s posture was slowly relaxing, but only for what seemed a moment. “You are not wearing a ring”, he hissed and Nina frowned in confusion. 

Please don’t hurt my Erik…

Erik? What?

He’s my husband, Nina. He has never been the same since he lost me and our daughter, Frida. Please, have mercy on him.

The man pulled out a gun and pointed right at Nina. Her heart was now beating impossibly fast. “Wait, Erik, please, put the gun down”, she tried to reason with him.

“I never said my name…” the man frowned before the realization hit him like a train on a track. “Drüsje”, the word burnt on his tongue and Nina could taste the bitterness of the word in his mouth. He said it as if it were poison, he said it like Matthias used to say it when they first met.

Okay, now she was fucked. Clearly she was going to die, killed by a Drüskelle. The irony of it did not escape her. Nina raised both hands, taking another step back. “Erik, please… you need help… you are not like this”, she tried again.

He’s a good man, Nina, just like your Matthias… Please, have mercy on him.

She did her best not to scoff. Nina didn’t like that comparison. Matthias was way better, in every possible way. She couldn’t believe that this was going to be her end, it was so… dumb and stupid, and meaningless. She opened her mouth to say something else when she heard it, another branch snapping again. ‘Saints, please, not another one’, she thought to herself. 

It was Erik’s reaction that surprised Nina. His skin turned white and his eyes widened, looking absolutely terrified but also marveled. Was it Matthias? She turned to look and any form of coherent thought left her body when she saw it. 

The wolf’s black fur contrasted sharply against the snow. She was baring her teeth and growling menacingly at the Drüskelle. The wolf moved closer to Nina, clearly in a protective position and ready to attack. She could see the conflict in the man’s face: wolves were sacred to fjerdans. But she could also feel the confusion, why was the wolf protecting her? Honestly, Nina wanted to know as well, because it didn’t make any sense to her either.

Don’t hurt him, Nina, he’s a good man…

Well, that’s kind of debatable; she thought to herself. “Erik…”, Nina spoke again. “You don’t want to do this, this is not who you are… you are a good man”, she said softly. “Put the gun down, please. This is not the man Frida or your wife love…”, she added cautiously.

The mere mention of his daughter and wife was enough for the man to fall on his knees and drop the gun that landed soundlessly on the snow. It was the image of a defeated man, of a person too tired of all the suffering, a man who looked at least fifteen years older than he actually was. At that moment, all Nina could feel was pity. The wolf also seemed to ease her posture and walked backwards and closer to Nina, as if she were now her guardian. 

Let me talk to him, Nina…

Nina frowned, she didn’t know how to pull that out, she needed concentration and a better environment. The only time she did this was with Baghra, and she had been under so much stimulation. Her eyes moved to the Drüskelle and swallowed with difficulty, she didn’t trust him enough to close her eyes. That’s when she heard a soft whine coming from the wolf.

Use the wolf.

‘Use the wolf?’ What the hell was that supposed to mean? Nina briefly looked down at the wolf who was sitting merely inches away from her. “That’s impossible…”, she murmured as a crazy idea came to her mind. Living amplifiers existed, yes, but all of them had been human, like Kirigan and Baghra, like Persi. But animals?

Hesitantly, Nina placed her hand over the wolf’s head. The reaction was instant. She fell onto her knees, the wolf acting as a support system. It was as easy as breathing, the wolf easily called out to her power and the spirit of the woman and her daughter were projected into the living realm. They looked so real that Erik started weeping as the woman told him that it was okay, that it was time to go home. Meanwhile the wolf remained still, stoic, as if she knew exactly what she was supposed to do.

Nina was running out of energy and eventually, the souls of the woman and Frida disappeared for good, leaving her panting heavily and holding onto the wolf. Erik, on the other hand, was crying, but he was also smiling and there was something about that smile that made Nina feel incredibly uneasy.

“Djel awaits for me, Drüsje…” the Drüskelle murmured and Nina narrowed her eyes. There wasn’t hatred in his tone, no hostility, just peace and calmness. “The water is ready”, he then said, picking up the gun and standing up. The man took off his coat and left it at Nina’s feet as an offering, as well as his backpack.

“What are you doing?” She narrowed her eyes as the man began to walk towards the river, the gun on his hand. And then it hit her. Her blood turned colder than the snow and she paled even more. “No… no, no, Erik, stop!” Nina began to crawl towards the river. Projecting souls into the living realm always ended up draining her energy to the brink of exhaustion, and right now, she couldn’t even stand up.

“My love, I’m coming home…”, the Drüskelle muttered, pressing the gun to his temple. 

“NO!” Nina cried, but Erik already pulled the trigger.

Her eyes widened in horror as his body fell on his back into the freezing fjerdan waters. Nina remained on her knees, tears rolling down her eyes as the current dragged Erik’s body out of her sight. What had just happened? Was this her fault?

No, Nina, it was his time to go.

“But that doesn’t make sense…”, she murmured quietly before feeling a gentle nudge on her arm. The wolf was next to her, still protecting her. Nina gently ran her hand through her fur. The wolf was warm and soft, and she seemed to like the pets. 

“You saved my life”, she said softly and the wolf gently nudged her snout against Nina’s cheek. “Do you have a name?” Not that an animal would tell her. Nina leaned more against the animal, seeking for some warmth. “There was a Saint who helped abandoned women… her name was Magda”, she commented. “Maybe I should call you Magda…”, she whispered softly and earned another gentle nudge from the wolf, a nudge that Nina read as an approval. Her eyes moved back to the water.

He’s at peace now, Nina.

The grisha shook her head and stood up. “I need to find Matthias”, she told the wolf as she began to gather what Erik had left her. The wolf took a few steps back and let out a loud and prolonged howl, and only when she heard one in return, she gently bit Nina’s clothes and tugged from them, urging her to follow her. 

Nina didn’t even hesitate, she and Magda would become one from now on.

[ephemeral--dreams]

love or death

Scaramouche/Reader

Rating: T

Word count: 1222

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, Scaramouche being Scaramouche

Notes: *holds my 193 fates* He will come home. 

☆ ☾ ☆  ──────────────────   

Scaramouche turning traitor had been the main topic of all the gossip in the palace for the past three weeks. Especially for those like you, who had been his direct subordinates. He'd evaded all attempts to get to him, whether that was to capture him or simply kill him and take the gnosis back.

You missed him. Not that you'd ever say as much out loud for fear of being branded a traitor as well. But how were you to simply turn off your feelings surrounding the harbinger?

Then the Tsaritsa herself had summoned you and passed on what she deemed an important assignment… To you, of all people. 

Find Scaramouche and get the stolen gnosis by any means necessary.

It had been a most terrible idea to send you in particular. Weak, visionless, a little too-smitten-with-your-former-superior you. Perhaps that was why. You'd been as close to him as anyone could get to someone like Scaramouche. Did they think that would make him back down? Somehow protect you from getting brutally killed for trying to bring him in? It wouldn't. This would not end well, but what could you do? Certainly not go rogue like he had. They'd hunt you down in an instant. There was no betraying the Fatui.

If you had to die either way, you supposed you'd rather do it at his hands than anyone else's. So you tracked him down and ended up here.

"They really sent you? Of all people?"

"Scaramouche, just come back. I'm sure you can reason with the Tsaritsa about your actions-"

His eyes flashed. "That's not happening. But if you think you can make me come with you - or kill me, is that it? - then I'd love to see you try."

And so you were forced to fight him. You had never once won against him during sparring, so any hope of winning now, in a serious fight where one of you had to die… Well, you'd never had any hope in the first place.

Even if you were capable of it, you'd never kill him. Your heart was too attached for that.

Still, you tried to hold out as long as possible. So few of your blows landed. He was barely winded whereas you were quickly tiring. You were bruised, bleeding, aching—

Then he seemingly got tired of playing around, hitting you with his full strength. You found yourself on the ground, trembling, panting for breath, adrenaline pumping through you as you scrambled into a sitting position.

You tried to reach out for your weapon, but he took it up before your shaking hand could. It would've been useless anyway. You were in far too much pain to be able to continue fighting him. It was difficult enough trying to scrabble back, away from his approaching footsteps despite the weakness in your limbs. You didn't get far.

He tilted your chin up with the tip of your own sword. For a long, silent moment, the two of you took each other in. You tried desperately to still your trembling, to calm your racing heart from beating it's way out of your chest. His smile was all sharp edges. "You look so afraid. I'd almost call it cute."

"Just get it over with already."

"You're not even going to beg for mercy? At least make this interesting for me. Maybe I'll even consider letting you live if you do well enough~"

All nothing more than teasing. Of course he wasn't going to show you any mercy. Scaramouche wasn't known for his kindness, after all. You were already defeated. Did he have to drag out your suffering? You had to will the tears away before they fell, eyes lowering from his. "Why are you wasting time...? You know they're just going to... Send someone stronger than me, next. You should run."

"Bold words from the pathetic excuse of a Fatui member that just tried to kill me," He tossed the sword to the side - far out of your reach - before kneeling down to your level. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you."

The impatience and irritation in his tone made you listen to him, returning your gaze to his. He was so much closer now. Despite the situation, something inside of you still melted at how pretty he was. You should've hated him for hurting you so badly, for the fact that he was going to kill you, but the feelings that had damned you to this fate in the first place remained. The concoction of fear and exhaustion and attraction was as overwhelming as the intensity of his full attention on you.

"See? Even someone like you can be trained to listen," That was almost praise, coming from him. He tilted his head appraisingly. "Did you just come here to die, huh? You're more worried for me than yourself."

"...Well, I wasn't stupid enough to think I was going to beat you in a fight."

"Could've fooled me," You flinched as he raised his hand, but all he did was wipe at the blood on your cheek. The gesture would've been sweet if he hadn't been the one to cause it. "If I don't do it, they'll kill you for failing..."

"So you're... You're going to make me wait for the Tsaritsa to punish me instead of just finishing it? You hate me that much?" It was a level of cruelty you hadn't anticipated. Didn't he have at least enough fondness for you to make it quick? 

Scaramouche laughed. "If I hated you, we wouldn't be having this discussion. Don't play dumb."

Perhaps the pain was making you hear things. Or making it too hard to think straight. Had you lost enough blood to start hallucinating? You truly wondered. You wished he would be less confusing.

"Scaramouche-"

"I'll kill you if that's what you want. Or you can go on the run with me. I'm not going to be nice enough to offer a second time, so make your choice quickly."

The sheer shock you felt was enough to stun you silent. There was no way he... This had to be another taunt, right? To give you false hope before he shattered it. But his expectant expression said otherwise.

He wanted you. It was a risk to himself to keep you alive. But despite all his harshness and his insults and everything, Scaramouche liked you enough to keep you around.

Something warm swirled inside of you.

"Clock is ticking-"

"L-Let me come with you!"

His smile seemed to soften ever so slightly at your agreement. "The right choice. You'd better be obedient, or I might change my mind, got it? You're already going to be trouble as it is, with how weak you are."

You only nodded along, barely listening to whatever insults he made against you. This was a far better outcome than you had imagined. Your happiness at the idea of being able to continue at his side was almost enough to make you forget everything that led to this.

On the run from the Fatui, heavily injured at the hands of the man in front of you, still accepting the idea that you weren't dying tonight. Yet none of it bothered you the way it should have. As long as you still had Scaramouche, nothing else mattered, did it? 

[bitchlessdino]

A/n: Thank you @berrryshortcake for letting me take over. As resident Chan loser of going sluts ofc I was gonna take it lol. I did not edit this enough btw but I thought either way, Yall should get a taste of my return.

Takes: afab!reader, daddy kink, praise kink, bulge kink, dumbification, missionary, unprotected sex, big dick!dino, dom!chan, bland ending idk.

His hands trail up your bare stomach tauntingly, reveling in the whimpers coming from your lips. A corner of his mouth raises observing your torso lift up in the air and towards him, gripping the sheets beneath you. You were exposed down to your skin, while Chan was still completely clothed, having you wait for him to command you something, anything.

“Does it bother you that Daddy is making you wait?”

You clench your core around nothing and softly gasp as his fingers reach the ridges of your folds. Your heart feels like was beating out of your chest, your cheeks hot like a sauna, having you merge up the courage to nod and verbally respond. “I d-don’t mind.”

“Oh, sweet thing. You and I both know that’s a lie.”

Three digits line up your slit, gliding through your arousal. You hiss under his touch, toes already rubbing against each other in restraint. Chan’s heavy lidded gaze pierces your subconscious, having you weak down to your ankles. “You want so much more than what you’re getting. I can tell.”

He shifts himself so his knees plant on either side of your body. He hovers over you, not letting his busy hand leave your cunt, eyes fully leveled at you. His breath is hot and dangerously close to your face as you squirm underneath him.

“D-daddy please…”

He hums. As if he couldn’t get closer, manages to anyway. Spreading your legs further apart with the force of his knee, Chan makes himself home by unbuckling his pants. The cool metal buckle grazes your hot skin just briefly before he sets it aside.

“Help me get off the rest, then daddy can see about a reward.” His voice drops an octave, following his shirt after.

Button by button, his toned torso comes on full display as the cotton fabric falls to the ground with no remorse. Your hands clasp his cheeks, feeling his lips move against yours with sheer confidence and power. You then slip your hands past his face to the top of his pants, hearing the zipper pull down and have Chan naturally shrug his bottoms off, not once breaking the kiss.

Your eyelids part ways, making your gaze flit to his cock that throbs invitingly in your direction. He feels huge in your hands, your index and thumb unable to meet as you hold its base. You jut forth his shaft, thumb circling at the entrance of his tip, he shudders on top of you, just knowing that his precum was coating your fingers deliciously. “You like toying with me or something, baby?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer and simply has his hand on your chest, rubbing a nipple between his fingers. You softly moan as your stomach clenches and your legs crunch up in the air. He scoots closer, the tip of his cock making contact with your cunt, sliding it up and down your entrance.

You clench your breath, a whistle of a whine escaping as he plunges three of his dominant fingers inside without the mercy of letting you adjust to their shape. Deep laughter fills your ears as he plays with you ten times harder than you attempted to play with him. Your help couldn’t help but pulse upward to his every thrust, hearing the squelching of his fingers delivering you every plunge. He puts half of his weight on you, his cock twitching on your inner thigh, and he can’t help but count, smiling, every time you call him by that delicious name.

“Daddy…I’m-I–”

“Yes, baby. Use your words.”

“C-cum in m-me.”

Chan groans at your pleas and grabs you by both ankles. His cock aligns with your cunt perfectly easing it all the way through. He then pushes your legs on either of your sides, giving him all the advantage. You suck in your stomach, clenching around his shaft, its full length filling your insides. Initially, it's slow, intimate even, allowing you to adjust to his size. Your nails pierce the flesh of your thighs, gripping your high along with it, and watch as he finds the natural rhythm of his hips.

Chan exhales a shallow breath, gaze lingering on the pit of your stomach expanding at the same time he’s pushing inside you, stretching your skin to his form. “Fuck…”

“S-so big, daddy.”

“Yes, baby. You like daddy fucking you deep?”

You moan a confirmation, teeth tugging on your bottom lip, and head knocking back into the sheets. His hands clutch your legs as if his life was on the line, feeling himself break a sweat. The swing of his hips gains its desired pace and he puts that to work, the bulge on your stomach appearing and reappearing.

“You’re so pretty, fitting my cock inside you…” he groans, fucking you deep and recklessly.

The bed creaks were loud and likely noticeable for anyone within 100 feet, but that didn’t matter to you. Even with your hair astray and your makeup running down your cheeks, you couldn’t help but feel like you were right where you needed to be. If only your eyes could focus on more than one thing, but alas the pressure Chan pressed into you was something you truly could not fathom. It makes your words slur, completely incomprehensible, allowing only the words “daddy” and “full” to be your main vocabulary.

“Your pretty body takes my cock so well,” he praises breathlessly.

“C-cum-Mmh—s-soon.”

He hums, heeding your words, before he takes you hand places top of your stomach, seeing and feeling what’s been driving him crazy all night: perfection.

“You feel that? Daddy’s cock filling you up so nice and full.”

How it excites you to feel it yourself. It seems that was the tipping point for you as you helplessly made a mess of yourself, whining for “daddy” enthusiastically like a broken record. You could help the moisture you drew out into the comforter, soon meeting the demise of Chan’s climax. As if you didn’t feel full beyond comparison already.

He clutches around you, not letting a drop seep out of you, peppers kisses on the back of your neck. You try embracing him just the same but lack the power to do so. He chuckles at this and locks eyes with you, cooing at you relentlessly.

“God, I love you.”

[myersmikey]

Okay, I'm gonna start posting my fics here. They're only on Wattpad atm. This was the first one I wrote. I like it and I think it's my most well-liked oneshot so far? Anyway... Oh btw, I'm not doing requests atm. But I probably will in the future. I'm just kinda writing what I wanna write.

Protection (2018!Michael Myers x GN!Reader)

Original post date: November 5th, 2021

Summary: It's when Michael goes up against the mob in Halloween Kills. YN has too much empathy for their own good and does something kinda probably stupid.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, some spoilers for Kills (although I keep certain deaths vague), just a lot of violence ok?, some cursing

A/N: This fic can be interpreted as romantic or platonic, either or. I wrote this because watching Michael get his ass kicked made me almost cry (and still does.) I wanted to protect him so. Yeah. Here it is.

Word count: 3k+

This felt wrong. You watched as the mob full of angry Haddonfield residents landed hit after hit on this small town's own Boogeyman. You knew that he probably deserved it. After all, he's hurt many people and haunted this town for years. You'd heard all of the stories. Who hasn't? But even so, watching all of these people beat him as he laid face down on the cold, hard ground felt so horribly wrong.

You had come with the group, not because you were out for Michael's blood, but rather because your friends were. You just so happened to be in the bar that night with them. You had seen the look on Tommy Doyle's face. The man had riled a good amount of people in the town up, including your friends. You wanted no part in the violence. Not because you were afraid (well, maybe you were), but because you never liked the idea of solving violence with more violence; an eye for an eye. But your friends had ended up dragging you along into this madness. You hadn't even wanted to leave your house tonight, but your friends had harassed you about joining them at the bar.

You reluctantly went with them to the showdown, but announced that you would not be leaving the vehicle. This earned you a few scoffs and eyerolls, but they didn't bother you too much about it in the end. They were too set on letting their anger out on the silent killer.

You now sat in the shotgun seat of one of the trucks whose headlights were illuminating the area. Your hands gripped tightly at the seat, a horrified look on your face, breath audibly shaking, and tears threatening to spill over. You knew the tears were most likely not deserved. The Shape of Haddonfield never showed mercy, so why should all of these people? Regardless, it tore at your heart more than it should have to see him being kicked and beaten while seemingly laying there defenseless. With every swing, you winced and your breath would hitch. After several minutes of this, you no longer could stand seeing it.

You thought that it would be best to run away, far away from this street. You didn't want to see nor hear any of it anymore. You opened the car door as quietly as possible, ready to take off in any direction that was anywhere but here.

You glanced over at the man once again. He was bleeding heavily from being shot and beaten. And now looking closer you could see he was missing some fingers too. Although, it seemed like those were lost earlier in the night judging by the bandages wrapped around the hand. Your legs suddenly began to move on their own. But not in the opposite direction like you had wanted. No, instead you were running right into the center of this chaos, pushing people out of your way in the process.

Putting yourself in between Michael and some of the crowd, you stared straight into the eyes of one of your friends. 'Shit...' you thought, 'what am I doing?' You knew at that moment that the entire town of Haddonfield was going to hate you. You would be shunned and driven out of the city, hell maybe even out of the state of Illinois.

The entire crowd fell dead silent as they just stared at your shaking form, standing in between them and their prey. You were terrified. Trying to find your voice, you began to speak. "Isn't that enough?" You said, your voice trembling. "He's already down. Haven't you hurt him enough?"

You began to hear whispers all around you and people sharing looks. They looked shocked. Angry. Disgusted. Closing your eyes for a moment, you gulped. "Violence doesn't get anyone anywhere."

Glancing up at one of your friends, he looked appalled. Gripping at his weapon tighter, he spat out, "How can you say that!? You know what this man has done to us, to all of us!" You gave a small nod. "I know..."

Your other friend spoke up. "So how the fuck can you defend a monster like that!?" Her voice was dripping with venom and you winced slightly at the word 'monster.'

"I'm just saying that this is enough. You've gotten your anger out. Let the police take care of-" you were promptly cut off by someone unseen shoving you to the ground. Letting out a whimper after your body collided with the ground, you sat up and looked at the jerk who shoved you. The man, who you didn't know, peered down his nose at you. "Crazy bitch..."

Your lower lip quivered as you looked at the people all around you staring down at you and Michael. You knew that you had gotten yourself into this mess, but you've already come this far. You slowly peeked down at the man you were just mere inches away from now. The murderer you just threw your entire reputation down the drain for. Your heart ached all over again seeing him in the state that he was in.

Your eyes adjusted more to the harsh light cutting through the darkness. You could just barely see into the eye holes of the mask. Your blood ran cold as you realized that Michael was awake. And he was staring straight at you. The air left your lungs and wouldn't return as you realized just how close you were to a serial killer. He could end you within seconds right now if he wanted to. And still, you felt pity.

Time seemed to stand still as you both looked at one another cautiously. Until his eyes suddenly snapped up above you. Before you had time to even react, let alone turn around, you felt a sharp pain in your back. Letting out a yelp of pain, you looked back to see just as you were getting kicked again. It was your now ex-friend. It was obvious everyone hated you at that moment.

You raised your hands in defense as hot tears spilled down your cheeks. 'How ironic,' you thought, 'my sad attempt to stop this mob's rage just made it worse.' You felt another pain, this time in your shoulder, from somebody's 2x4 piece of wood. "Traitor!" They shouted, striking you again.

The anger once again became contagious as one after the other, the crowd starting attacking both you and the man you were trying to protect. Being knocked down so that you were practically face to face with him, you could see that his eyes were now shut. Feeling that pang of sadness again, you got up on all fours and crawled to him. You should be terrified of him and wanting to get as far away as possible. Instead, you pulled yourself on top of the larger man. Wrapping yourself especially around his head, shielding him from the blows.

Whether he deserved it or not didn't matter to you anymore. You couldn't let this man die. This only seemed to piss everyone off more. You squeezed your eyes shut and choked back sobs as you felt yourself acquiring more and more wounds. All around you, you could hear shouts of you being a traitor, you deserving all that's coming to you, you being insane. You found yourself thinking that maybe they were right.

You felt someone grab at the back of your shirt and yank you backwards. Instinctively, you reached your hands back to grab their arm. "Let me go!" you shouted. When your cry fell on deaf ears, you slammed your elbow as hard as you could into the person's shin, causing them to drop you. 'So much for no violence.' You thought, before quickly dismissing it as self defense.

You crawled back as quickly as you could over to Michael. Every muscle and bone in your body hurt. But you were already in this, and you weren't going to stop now until these people settled down. Sitting on your knees in front of the man laying behind you, you glanced up at the crowd in front of you. "Fuck this!" Shouted one man as he came forward and raised his aluminum baseball bat over his head. You squeezed your eyes shut and braced yourself for the impact. You heard the unmistakable sound of the bat colliding with something near your head, but yet you didn't feel any pain. You slowly opened one eye to see the bat inches from your face being held in place by a bloody and damaged hand. Glancing in the direction of the hand, you see an arm coming over your shoulder.

You gasped as you realized it was Michael. He had propped himself up, although still laying on his stomach. He stopped the bat mid-air. Did he think that they were aiming for him? No, it was obvious they were aiming for you. Did he just save you? You weren't sure you could believe that.

He gave a tug, pulling the bat from the man's hands before more people on the other side had started hitting him again. One particularly hard whack knocked him back down and caused him to release the bat and you watched as it rolled away. "Dammit..." you mumbled. You weren't entirely sure who or what you were saying that to. The mob, yourself, Michael, the situation. Probably all of the above.

You leaned down and hesitantly placed a hand on his masked cheek and tried to look at his eyes. He was alive, although it seemed barely conscious judging by his half-lidded stare. Feeling yourself being pulled backwards yet again, you grunted in frustration and pain. The person dragged you several feet away before releasing you with a thud.

Looking over again, you see Michael weakly reaching for his knife that laid just inches away from his grasp. You didn't know how to feel at this moment. You still felt that same pity from seeing him so hurt. But you also knew what would happen if he got ahold of that blade again. And that scared you.

Before Michael could reach his weapon, Karen Nelson stepped over to him. You knew her but not enough to call her a friend. You did know that she also had a tendency to want peace and had a kinder heart. You wondered what she was even doing here. You knew her mom was one of Michael Myers' few survivors. You're sure that made her hate him. But her pacifist nature would typically keep her far away from things like this.

But in that moment, the woman's eyes were filled with seething rage and hatred for the murderer that laid just a few feet away from her. You watched as she slowly bent down and picked up the knife and gripped onto it tightly. What was she doing? There was no way she was about to kill this man. The crowd remained silent as they watched her every move. She turned to face him and stared down at him.

"Karen!" You hadn't even realized you had shouted her name until you saw many pairs of eyes staring your way. You shakingly stood to your feet despite your body's protests not to. "Karen..." you repeated before taking a couple of small steps towards her, placing your hands up in front of you as if to tell her to stop and think about what she was doing. She stared at you wordlessly as you stumbled another step towards her. "What are you doing?" You asked softly. Before she could answer, you continued. "You don't want to do this, Karen. Think about your daughter..."

Her iron grip on the blade seemed to loosen for a moment before tightening once more and turning back to Michael. You saw the rage in her eyes as she began to lift her arm up. With the last bit of your strength, you bolted at her, half tackling her and grabbing her arm that was weilding the knife. You looked in her eyes and pleaded, "Please stop! No more blood needs to be shed tonight!" Tears welled up in her eyes as she continued looking not at you, but at the man laying behind you. She choked out a sob and mumbled something that you couldn't quite hear. You were sure you heard her say "Ray" though. Wasn't that her husband's name? In your confusion, she pushed past you and drove the knife down into Michael's back. His body jolted before going limp and you let out a scream and covered your mouth with both of your hands.

Your legs finally gave out and you fell to your knees, staring helplessly at the sight in front of you. Karen turned almost robotically with tears running down her face and walked off in the direction of some nearby houses. Everything had become too silent besides your ragged breathing. The mob began to lower their weapons and relax. Some even turning to leave, ready to go sleep soundly knowing that the Boogeyman was finally dead.

You desperately wanted to look away from the gruesome sight before you. But you just couldn't. You should be worrying about your own injuries and your now destroyed reputation and friendships. You should feel relief that this 40 year nightmare was now over. Instead, your heart broke into pieces. You tried so hard to protect him but couldn't in the end. You thought back to the hand grabbing the bat that nearly put a dent in your head. It seemed clear that he had tried to protect you as well. Although, that thought seemed irrational. He was a merciless killer who seemed void of emotion.

You closed your eyes for a moment as you felt yourself get dizzy from the adrenaline wearing off. Time seemed to slow down and your ears began to ring as more of your pain began to catch up to you. Trying desperately to cling to consciousness, you still collided with the ground.

That's when you heard a scream. Followed by more screams. Opening your eyes, your vision blurry, you could see a lot of movement again. Confused, you tried to get your eyes to focus. And then you saw it. Michael Myers was up on his feet slashing his knife in all directions as more and more bodies fell to the ground. Upon realizing what was happening, your body was hit with another dose of adrenaline.

Propping yourself up on your elbows and then to your hands and knees, you watched in horror at what was happening before you. You forced yourself to your feet, every instinct in your body telling you to run and to hide. But instead you froze. Eyes locked on the older man who was taking the lives of everyone around him. His body moving as if he didn't just sustain countless injuries. You began to wonder if he was even human.

You watched as the last person drops after being knifed in the chest. A quiet shriek escaping your lips once you realized who it was. His bat taken from him and swung down, his life ended with his own weapon. Everything went quiet once again after the clank of the bat falling to the ground. You and Michael were the only ones left standing.

To your horror, the man turned to face you. You wanted to scream; to run. Something. Anything! But instead you froze like a rabbit being stared down by a predator. You may have protected the man, but you were still completely and utterly terrified of him. 'I'm gonna die...' was the only thing you could think.

Michael started walking towards you and you began to back up in fear. He got closer and your legs gave out on you again, finally at their limit. You fell backwards and all you could do was look up at the man. He stopped and tilted his head at you slightly. You open your mouth to speak but instead everything begins to spin again and you start to black out.

After a moment, you feel yourself being lifted from the cold and sharpness of the gravel. Feeling like you were moving, you tried to open your eyes wondering if you were actually moving or if it was just the dizziness. Your eyelids fought you.

You felt yourself being sat upright and finally managed to open your eyes only slightly. Michael stood beside you and you realized you were sitting in the same truck you started out in. Had he carried you here? Your eyes flick up to meet his blue ones. You tried to move and felt a large hand on your shoulder, stilling you. It was as if he was silently telling you not to move and hurt yourself more than you already were. Once he felt that you had stopped moving, you felt that same hand move to your head. Your eyes closed again as you felt him rub your head slightly before pulling away. You wanted to chuckle thinking that this had to be a dream. But chuckling would of taken energy that you no longer had. You barely pulled your eyes open one last time to see him reaching into his pocket before everything went completely dark and silent.

****************************

Your eyes slowly opened and you tried to move your head before being hit with a wave of pain. "Fuck..." you hissed. It was still dark out and you were in your friend's truck. You tried to remember what exactly happened before it hit you all at once. Your eyes snapped over to your right to where Michael had stood before. No one was there and the door was shut. Had you dreamt or hallucinated it? You had to of managed to get yourself to vehicle or something.

You went to move your hands up to your temples in an attempt to calm your throbbing headache. It was then you realized something was in your hand. Confused, you flipped your hand over and opened your palm to see a small piece of Halloween candy. You blinked in confusion before remembering that the last thing you saw before passing out was Michael reaching into his pocket. A tiny grin appeared on your face as you realized it was his way of saying thank you.

Huh... who knew the Boogeyman had a sweet tooth.

[angelictyphoon]

"Can we just..."

Wolfwood pauses, struggling against restlessness, the need for constant motion. His life is a series of divisions, of befores and afters, though the same can be said for anyone. Before first blood, and after. Before Hopeland, and after. Before the Eye, and after. Before the end, and after the beginning.

Fear defined so much of that time, a constant companion ground into flesh and bone and battered soul. There was little room for want, less for living.

And he wanted to live. Beyond survival. Still does.

To see Vash's face light up in such a place is just as much of a balm as the existence of a Geo-Plant this far out in the craggy wastes. There is so much green in the shelter of high canyon walls, in the crashed fuselage repurposed not for horror but for this.

For life after an end.

For a chance to live.

"...Let's stay here a couple days," he concludes, more than half-asking, because they have the space to do that now. To ask. To explore. To be.

Can we just..? 

Wolfwood’s question fades with the wisps of smoke trailing from the tip of his cigarette and Vash watches him in that moment. The breeze carried past their faces does not prickle with grains of sand nor does it form an unpleasant dryness in their throats and noses as they breathe it in. Wolfwood casts his gaze forward and backward, a divide as distinct as the delineation of desert stone funneled out by time and the foliage and shrubs that have sprouted up in their shade.

 “Okay.” 

The Geo-Plant here has flourished despite the odds. He can hear her far below the ground. Vash lifts his palm from the grassy floor and rises from a kneel. On the way up, a leafy plant catches his eye. 

Not that his eyes ever stopped sparkling as soon as they rushed to investigate the scent of green in the air and the murmur of rustling leaves in the canyon, Vash looks more dazzled than he did before.

What he mistook for a mound of clover is something else entirely.

“Wood sorrel!” Vash pinches off a few bunches, happily nibbles off a few leaves, then laughs. “They became a huge problem on Ship Three at one point. Luida was losing her mind and I just…started eating them by the mouthful one day."

A little sour, a little lemony.

"C’mon, try it, Nick.”

[misschifuyu]

Hello! Could i request a HCS for izana and the Haitani brothers discovering their s/o is good at fighting, because their s/o save them from a fight? I hope you have a great day, sorry if the request doesn't make sense, my English isn't exactly the best <3

- babes your english is absolutely perfect, and thank you so much for requesting !! i do hope you like it ! ♡

Izana, Ran and Rindou discovering that their s/o is good at fighting

genre: not sure..it isn't really fluff, just simple gang fight things

warnings: violence

Izana

whenever izana got involved in any type of fight, it was usually quite a rough situation. he would only ever get involved with another gang's member if it was truly necessary

the sight was brutal, punches being thrown between the two men as they attempted to knock the other out. other tenjiku members had gathered around the scene, but nobody dared to get involved in the fight of the president

besides, they knew he would only curse them out if they did

you had heard about the fight from a running koko who had passed by you whilst you were walking near the area, heading in the direction of the gang's main gathering point

it didn't take the two of you very long to arrive and, upon seeing the fight that was taking place and who was involved in it, you pushed your way through the crowd of spectators. a challenge, seeing as most of the tenjiku members were quite bulky and didn't even recognise the presence of the prident's partner

the other guy had already taken a fair amount of hits, but it appeared that izana had also received his portion of punches to his body

you didn't doubt his strength, so you remained at the sidelines as the two ran up to each other once more, shouts filling the air as the gang members tried to distract the rival

unfortunately, one of those shouts had been considerably louder than the rest, causing the leader to whip his head around in case it was another member joining in on the brawl

this left a predominantly open window for his opponent, something that rarely ever happened to izana. before he was able to react, a swift leg came into contact with his head, knocking onto the ground instantly

it had most definitely caused a fair amount of damage to him, and when your horrified eyes landed on his almost unconscious body, you weren't able to hold back your running steps towards the bastard who had thrown your boyfriend to the ground

you were stealthy enough to catch him off guard, giving you enough time to bring your arm around and delivering a harsh hit on the guy's throat

both from the force and being stunned at the sudden attack, the taller man lost his balance, eyes rolling up as he hit the ground. you hadn't realised you had hit him that hard, truthfully; but you were glad you had gotten rid of him

as you turned back round towards the injured president, you met his widened eyes as he stared up at you, promptly switching over to look at the fallen man before him

"y/n, I..."

"are you alright?"

you quickly crouched down to check his body for any serious hits, not realising how surprised you had left your boyfriend after that unexpected attack from your behalf

he was more than just impressed. proud was the word he looked for, and he was sure to ask you all about your skills once you got him back home

Ran

ran getting into a fight with another man was a sight that stuck in everyone's mind if they ever witnessed it

be it with his brother or not, he never showed even the smallest ounce of mercy towards his attacker. if they wanted to fight, he was going to make them regret they ever considered doing so

with the aid of his peculiar, metal rod - which nobody actually knew where he got it from in the first place - he never left a brawl on the losing side

he was a haitani brother, after all. he feared nothing and no one, to put it simply

despite all of this, you always grew nervous whenever he went up against someone. sure, he had a strength that topped any other gang members' in the area, but there always stood a chance of a weak moment, a momentary distraction

and it was all you could think about as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. stood beside his younger brother, your eyes followed the rapid movements that were exchanged between the two s62 generation members. it was rare that ran ever encountered someone his age nowadays, so he was giving it his all for the special occasion

unfortunately, you had noticed that his rival was quite skilled in his fighting techniques, and every now and then you had to hold your breath as they threw a punch a little too close to comfort to your boyfriend. it terrified you, to say the least

rindou kept assuring you that you had nothing to worry about, but as you watched ran slowly lose energy to keep up the fast pace, your concerns only grew in size

the last straw was taken when the other man grabbed hold of the metal rod just before it came in contact with his head. surprised at the uncommon act, ran remained still for a split second as the weapon was ripped out of his hands.

unable to take up an offensive stance quick enough to attack, he was greeted with a harsh blow to his gut, causing him to bend over in pain before receiving another hit, this time to his legs

watching him struggling to get back up onto his feet, your heart was practically at your throat. was he able to get back up in time?

upon noticing the opponent's leg lifting up, with the intentions of smashing the haitani brother's head against the ground, you ran towards him as fast as your stamina would allow you

adrenaline kicking in, you reached him just in time to throw a swift punch to his ribcage, halting his next attack as the sound of cracking bones were heard throughout the area

an agonising scream left his mouth as he spotted you just below him. despite his towering height, you had managed to give him a brutal blow; however, you weren't sure what your next move was going to be

luckily, you were pushed out of the way, towards ran, before a leg came in contact with the guy's head. rindou had gotten involved just in time, and soon enough, other members started piling up on the stranger

hand grabbing onto his abdomen, ran was looked up at you from the ground, utterly stunned at your actions. your worrisome nature soon came back as you got down and tended to him, asking him if anything felt serious

the guy was on a whole other realm, still not believing what you had just done, so you would have to talk to him a little more before he actually spoke, praising you immensely for your skills

Rindou

it was rare for rindou to actually take part in fights. he and his brother had taken over roppongi, so there was really nothing else to do unless some punk decided he wanted to challenge them. though, usually, they'd just get knocked out by ran's metal rod in the first two minutes upon arrival

if circumstances ever lined up to get rindou involved in a serious fight, without the company of his brother, he had a tendency of going all out, knowing that the brawl wouldn't last very long

all of his energy would go into going up against his opponent, determined to show everyone how he was more than capable to take someone down without the aid of anyone else

you had always sensed that he did it for self-approval, honestly. being the younger haitani brother, he had always been looked past, so when he got the chance to fight alone, it would be a vicious one

a member of a neighbouring gang had come up with the bright idea to compare the fighting skills of the brothers, with complete faith that he was going to beat both of them up, individually

it was really just the perfect scenario for rindou, and you could tell he was giving it his all as he tackled the stranger down several times

although it seemed he had the upper hand in the situation, you were starting to worry over his energy. 10 minutes had gone by since the beginning of the fight now, and you could tell both his and his rival's stamina was starting to give way

it was only natural, seeing how the two were going at it with full force.

as they continued to fight, you spotted ran on the other side of the gathering of members, watching intently as his brother took down the guy. it was clear by his expression that you weren't the only one who had noticed the toppling descent of rindou's strength

it all came to a turning point when, as he held down his opponent to the ground, the other was able to throw a kick at such an angle that your boyfriend lost some of his grip

this allowed the guy to release himself from the hold, quickly spinning round to send a flying punch to rindou's face that he received by mere millimetres. it was rare for him to not act immediately, but with the loss of strength, you figured he was struggling to even do that

the beating against your chest was now racing, watching as your boyfriend was repeatedly being punched in the face. why wasn't he moving? had he given up?

the loud shouts from other gang members around them increased as it posed to be a loss for the haitani brother, and you didn't know what to do

biting the inside of your cheek, you decided that, seeing as nobody was bothering to make a move, you would take into into your own hands

with a speed you hadn't even expected from yourself, you sprinted over to the man above rindou, quickly hooking your arm around his neck to halt his repeated punches

with the strong grip you had on him, you were able to keep him still until you smashed the bottom of your palm up his jaw, promptly knocking him out into your arms

discarding the heavy body to the floor without a care, you lingered over the bloodied face that belonged to your partner. you took his face into your hands, cradling it as you uttered out worried questions about his state.

although he didn't tell you in that moment, he had seen what you had done and was thoroughly impressed by the swiftness of your skills. once he woke up a few hours later, you were bombarded with words of appreciation, but also suggestions for you to show him some of your hidden ways

[lunaekalenda]

"𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔢" 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔬𝔫 𝔞𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔬𝔶𝔰! - 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔟 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 @levisgirll

Hello everyone!! This is a special collab post brought to you by ‘cookiefics’ and ‘levisgirll’ and we decided to work together and write up a post which is y/n pranking their aot boyfriends!

Check out cookiefics for Eren and Reiner -  you’re here :D

Check out ‘levisgirll’ for Levi and Jean. - find it here :D

Synopsis: Y/N decided to prank the boys in attack on titan by saying they don’t want to ‘sleep with them tonight’. Some will get annoyed, sad, might tease you back or try to get your attention! And to make it up, Y/N ends the prank by saying the 3 words they long wanted to hear! So pick or check out which character you like the most and enjoy <3 We promise this will be good, it is filled with love, fluff, entertainment and a little bit angst.

a/n:  hi! cookie here lol. just wanted to say that working with mina was such a good and fun experience! i absolutely enjoyed every minute of it! :D i’m really happy about how it ended and i really hope you all enjoy this as much as we enjoyed creating it together! also, remember to check Mina’s works on @levisgirll to find more quality - specially for levi- content, you won’t regret it, she’s SUPER talented !! ;) please support her on her works !

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eren x reader, reiner x reader

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eren:

Eren didn’t expect that to come out of your mouth so smoothly as it did.

“Today I prefer to sleep alone.” he raised a brow, a silent ask in his eyes while he took off his shirt, getting ready for bed. He looks at you once again, seeing how you’re not in bed, just sitting there, looking at him.

“Are you serious?” he asks. You nod quietly. You can see how his lip pouts a little, his nose being extremely cute while he does it.

You want to laugh so bad, his confused green eyes looking quietly around, as if he was searching a camera or something.

“Where am I supposed to sleep then, honey?” he asks, without even asking again if he has to sleep far from you.

“I don’t know… On the sofa?” you ask. He sighs. He looks once more to you, making sure you want that.

“‘M going then, good night, honey.” he says, the pout still on his mouth.

“Night, Eren.”

That definitely made him turn around and face you. 

“Okay. No good, just night, followed by Eren as if i did something. What did I do this time?” he asks. His precious eyes are still on yours, and you shake your head.

“You did nothing.” you say. His brain starts to work at 100% capacity. Maybe the problem is that he didn’t make anything.

He looked quick to the clock. It isn’t your birthday, your anniversary or any other special date.

He kissed you this morning before and after leaving home. He called you during your work rest. He cooked dinner and spent some time with you on the couch.

What the hell are you saying then? You want to sleep alone for what reason?

He doesn’t want to pressure you, though. He knows maybe you have your reasons to avoid him today and he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.

He takes then his pillow and walks towards the couch, taking a blanket on his way. He murmurs to himself and you can hear him, trying to cover your laugh.

Minutes later, you walk silently to the couch. Eren is almost ready for his sleep, his hair tangled on a low bun and his pillow on the couch.

“Honey, what are you doing here?” he asks. You laugh quietly.

“It was a joke.” Eren’s green eyes are now open with surprise, before a brow raises quietly.

“Oh, so it was a joke.” he says, getting up slowly. “How funny.”

He was supposed to laugh, but he looks at you instead, with a serious expression. “Search where to hide cause I’m not going to be merciful with you.”

You run towards your bedroom, laughing, and you can hear his steps behind you. You jump into your shared bed, seeing how he closes the door behind him.

You move until your back is against the headboard. You keep laughing.

“Eren!” you say, and he takes off his bun. Then, casually, he takes the hair tie between his teeth, a smirk starting to appear on his lips.

He crawls to the bed, his arms all tensed, the muscles on his back marked by the strength he’s using to lift his body.

He gets closer to you, the hair tie still between his lips. This isn’t funny anymore. You want that damn hair tie to disappear from his mouth. You want to be the thing Eren is casually kissing.

He sits in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours.

With patience, he ties his hair in a bun, your eyes following his fingers, how they pass the hair between the hair tie parts. His eyes are still locked on yours. Once he’s finished, he gets closer.

“That joke of yours annoyed me. Now, deal with it, hm?” he whispers.

That was almost a direct attack. You feel your legs weak against his husky voice. He smirks, getting closer to you.

Closed door, hair in a tight bun, no shirt and just a little lamp as a source of light made you think of how the night will end, making you smile for yourself while he keeps being closer. Your lips are almost on his, but he takes his head away, smiling.

“If you think I tied up my hair and closed the door to do disrespectful things with you, you’re so wrong, honey” he says. You’re totally shocked and Eren laughs.

“What was that, Jaeger?” you ask, surprised because of the change of his mood. He enters the bed between laughs.

“Revenge, honey.”

You pout while he gets comfortable on the bed.

“Now you should kiss me.” you say. You’re angry at him now. Is he leaving you like that? Like the mess he made out of you?

“I want to sleep. Good night, y/n”

reiner:

“Reiner…” You call him. He looks at you, his sweet smile only directed at you. That makes your heart flutter, and also makes you feel kinda cruel.

“Yes, my love?”

“Today I want to sleep alone.” All the joy and calm in his eyes starts to disappear, his head getting full of thoughts.

“Why?” he asks simply. “Please, my love, don’t sleep away from me…” His head got invaded.

Why? Did I mess it up? Does they want to leave me? Did I fail again?

You can see how the prank started to make his head overthink, so you approach him quickly.

Your hands take his t-shirt, pulling him to you. He has a sad expression.

“Sorry, Rein. It was just a TikTok prank and I didn’t know it would affect you so much. I’m so sorry.” You were almost in tears. Reiner sighs.

“Please, don’t do that again.” he asks softly. “I got scared. I thought I made something wrong.” he says. That breaks your heart a little more. You start to cry against his shirt. “Hey, love. Don’t cry. It was just a joke.” he says.

He turns around and takes your face in his hands. You feel how he wipes out some tears, smiling a little for you. “But please, never scare me like that.”

“I’m sorry.” you say again. He takes your face closer and kisses your forehead sweetly.

“But you do still love me, right?” That question makes you shed a couple tears.

“I love you, Rein. I do, please don’t forget it.”

He smiles a little more. “I also love you a lot.” he says. He takes his lips again to your face, this time, your nose. “But you really scared me.”

“I’ll never do it again.” you say. He looks at you.

“Then.. Can I sleep here?” he asks. You both laugh a little.

Once you two are accommodated, with you between Reiner’s arms, feeling his soft breath on your hair and his legs tangled with yours, you feel safe.

“Rein.” you whisper. He hums. “If I ever hurt you, please tell me. Even if it is just a little thing.” He takes you closer. “I don’t want to hurt you.” you say. Your lips leave a kiss on his chest, near to where his heart is beating. You feel his hands hugging your body stronger.

“Okay. But the same goes for you. I don’t want to hurt you. You’re the most precious person I have.” he says. His hands go up and down your spine.

“You’re also the most important person to me. I really love you. I fell in love with you and I wouldn’t doubt doing it again.” you say. You feel how his mouth moves against your head. “Rein?”

Afraid of finding him crying, you look at him. The moonlight that enters is enough to see your boyfriend’s smile.

“That’s… That’s so sweet. You make me so happy…” his  eyes are now shining. You are grateful for seeing that shining again. He caresses your cheek again, and you rest your head on the pillow, letting your faces meet.

“Rein.”

“Hm?” he says, fixed on your eyes and the way his thumb draws on your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?”

He smiles widely, even more than before. He gets closer to you.

“Until my lips hurt, please.”

[allandoflimbo]

Ashens (Part 24)

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

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4,700

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

Waging wars to shake the poet and the beat

I hope it's gonna make you notice

“…I’m in the military, sir…”

“…James, that’s my father, okay? If anything, let’s just be glad he didn’t kill you. He’s like that with everyone…And the soldier thing, he’s weird about that. I’m not sure why…”

Bucky lies awake in bed, fluffy pillow behind his head and one leg peeking out from the blankets, as random memories knack away at his brain in pulses. They weren’t new memories, but they were memories that he never looked at the way he was now.

He doesn’t know why now, he doesn’t know what triggered it, but they were clicking together.

After years of replaying the same moments in his head, there was a nagging feeling that was telling him that there was something not adding up.

He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s seeing things differently, if he’s feeling things differently.

Whatever it was, he knew there was something…off.

There was something off about Daisy’s story about her dad’s story, something was off about the way he was against Bucky fighting in the military, and her death was coinciding so much with his capture.

He doesn’t like the feeling in his stomach as he remembers.

When Bucky asked about her brother and what that whole commotion back at the club was she was blatantly honest with him.

“My father’s not a good guy. He’s been wanting some something from one of these performers that was suppose to be there last night, but turns out they weren’t even on the set list. He had lied about it, we don’t know where he is.”

Bucky raises a brow at this, “You do his dirty work for him?”

“No, I don’t like to get involved in that. It’s a dangerous lifestyle. I have to think about my future family. I was only there yesterday because my brother wanted to get me out of the house for once.”

Bucky isn’t too gleam on the fact that her family are borderline criminals and that she basically supports it, and for a fraction of a second he almost doesn’t buy it, but he decides to mention this later on, not wanting to ruin their moment.

Bucky shifts his leg as he continues to remember that conversation. Why was he not against it? Why did he never question the crimes? Was he that distracted by her?

Bucky smiles at her comment, but then his brows furrowed together in an adorable way that made Daisy giggle and bring her hand to his cheek, “What is it, James?”

What is it, James?

Bucky looks over to see you laying next to him, sat up with your back against the headboard reading some book with a beige cover.

You hadn’t taken notice of his self discomfort yet, emerged in your reading, tucking your bottom lip into your mouth.

Why was he remembering all of this now? Why was he feeling sick?

When they pulled away she slowly dragged her thumb across his plump bottom lip. He watched her like she was the most gorgeous and interesting thing on the planet.

“James?” He responded with a sound on confirmation and she continued, “do you think we are moving too fast?”

He grabbed her hand that was on his face and for a fraction of a moment she thought that that was it, they were over. This was clearly too unrealistic. But instead he brought her hand up over both his lips and he kissed her gingerly.

“Yes.” He whispered behind her hand, making sure he was making direct eye contact with her.

Her face dropped. “Yes?” Her voice was worried, cautious.  

He started trailing kisses down her hand, her wrist, her forearms. He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck making her groan.

It wasn’t that Daisy didn’t like being pampered but she wanted to take this very seriously. With a reluctant sigh - because what he was doing to her flesh just felt so good - she delicately removes her arm from Bucky’s grasp. He narrowed his eyes as she moved away towards the head board, suddenly wondering if maybe he said the wrong thing.

Her eyes trickled his features and down his perfect little nose.

“I knew it since the moment I laid my eyes on you. That’s how you know it’s real. This isn’t crazy, it’s ludicrous. But it works for us. I want to be with you.”

After his little speech Daisy looked him dead in the eye, not batting one lash.

“Then come have dinner with my family.”

Was it too fast? He had barely known her and she was asking him to meet her family. Criminals.

But why would she give away such dire information if it were true?

Bucky sat up slowly, as if if he were to move too quickly, the bed would collapse underneath him.

His eyes had a far away look in him, and he was as pale as he felt.

You feel him shift and your eyes flicker up to him.

You frown.

Her blue eyes glisten with gentle tears, probably thinking the same exact thing. None of it still feels real.

Her, she, doesn’t feel real.

They spent nearly every night together just talking about what Bucky would do when he came back home after camp. Things like how they would have to go see the stars on the back of an outskirts farmhouse, how they would have to go to every club in the city and laugh their night away, how he would take her to coney island with him and Steve and show her a “good time” on the ferris wheel, and how they would definitely have to meet her family.

“They’re great, you’ll love them.” She had said as they laid in bed together just hours before, merely cuddling with clothes on.

“Oh, come on doll, even your Dad?”

Daisy hesitated for a moment and her hand that was rubbing his chest stopped suddenly.

Bucky noted this and they met eyes.

Bucky feels his heart palpitate and he opens and closes his right hand, sitting up.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You ask softly, closing your book.

“Dad has been gone for four weeks and I don’t know why. Jimmy has gone with him- it’s just me and mother. I overheard her saying something about Germany but I’m not quite sure.. Or maybe it was something else. Though none of that matters to me, James- I want you. Please come home to me.”

For some reason, a chill ran down his back as he reread the words “something about Germany”.

Like an awful memory that has never happened, he sees a child in front of him. It was a little girl and she screamed in agony for mercy. She was getting strangled to death by his own hand, a silver glint caught his eye-

“James!”

“Bucky.”

Your voice pulls him out of his trance for just a moment.

He looks up to you, your eyes interlacing in a silent conversation of understanding.

He was revealing something to himself and you could tell that whatever that was it was leaving him overcome by feelings.

At the end of the day, he knows that he’s just insanely protective of Steve. Which is why his arm instinctively goes around him when Rogers almost gets hit by a speeding vehicle that abruptly stops to halt in front of them on the curb. With his mind far away, he hadn’t realized they were already standing on the sidewalk in front of one bright sign labeled Cotton Club.

Had Bucky known better, he would’ve had him on his left.

After that introduction, the two boys look over to the object that almost killed them.

It was pure black, the countless lights coming from the surrounding buildings and cars bouncing off its surface. The rain must’ve made it even shinier, the lights made a reflection so bright that it had everyone staring. Men looked in awe and a young paper boy, standing on the corner working over time, wondered if that would someday be his future.

With a look of disgust, Steve was repulsed by the obscurity of the man’s driving having nearly hit him. He wondered why people had no respect and he desperately wanted to punch his face in. Either that or give him a pep talk about general safety.

“What a twit.” He snarls, dusting off his small suspenders and kicking the invisible debris off his lapels.

Bucky’s face held something different. It explained why the woman staring had looked on in pure jealousy. He stared forward completely emotionless. He was neither annoyed at the fact that he almost just got run over and killed and nor in obsession over the Duesenberg J.

It was the beautiful goddess emerging from the passenger seat that caught his full attention.

On her left hand was a pearl and diamond bracelet and she used it to skim over the top of the priceless car door for leverage to push herself gracefully up from the leather seat. Her other hand was wrapped up in a prestige white glove. It held onto the hem of her silver sparkling gown, a long white cigar between her digits. Her gorgeous dress looked heavy, you could tell it was so properly made and expensive because it must’ve weighed as much as her petite self. The reason being that it hugged her body at just the perfect places, showing off her curves gracefully.

Her perfect blonde hair was pulled slick back by a diamond hair clip to the side in huge voluminous waves. The dress showed just enough back, the material dipping down towards the floor, the dip ending just above her bottom. The entire thing was held by two tiny silver straps on her shoulders.

In a sentimental Mood by Duke Ellington seemed to have played perfectly in sync with the exact moment she shut the door behind her. She looked up to read the sign, her perfect profile looking up in awe.

Bucky stands up from the bed, back rigid and face hard with anger.

No.

It couldn’t be.

He swallows thickly, gaze going towards you again.

He doesn’t know why he keeps looking at you.

Ironically, beneath his anger and betrayal, he also began to feel embarrassment.

He’s momentarily startled out of his trance when he feels a small hand grab his elbow.  He looks down and his eyes meet a small concerned Steve. Well, to be fairly honestly, he looked more pissed than concerned.

Bucky doesn’t feel the patience to deal with talking anything out, he’s too busy thinking about Daisy. But he feels like he should at least say something so he can get everyone off his back, “What is it?”

Steve looks at him likes he’s crazy and then manically gestures towards the entrance of the club, probably pointing to where Daisy just left through.

“Bucky, what the heck was that? Who was that? You know her?”

“I didn’t know her. No.” Bucky doesn’t realize he’s saying it out loud.

He’s shaking his head to himself, mumbling.

“Bucky, who are you talking to?” You’re growing even more concerned by the second now.

The silence was broken by his strong voice.

“You’re real.”

She smiles in a way that makes him smile too. It was contagious and bright. He caresses her skin one more time.

He felt her own hand come over his and she whispers, “I’m real.”

“Not real.”

You are more than concerned at this point.

“What are you talking about?”

“Maybe it was the fact that my body had finally developed into a women’s body. My breasts were now fully perked and my legs were long and porcelain gorgeous; all I knew was they figured I could be put to good use.”

He shook his head and Bucky blinked away heavy tears.“I-“

The pretty woman rolled her eyes and crossed her legs, revealing a long slit that ran up her dress. It was just enough skin for Bucky’s hand to get sweaty.

He waited until the perfect opportunity when the man had walked towards the direction of the stage, making his way into the back behind the curtain.

“It wasn’t real.”

“You do his dirty work for him?”

“It wasn’t real.”

“My father’s not a good guy.”

Bucky remembers them poking him with IV drops and then sticking his head in a blender. His owns screams fill his head. It was so painful.

“Reason unknown, ongoing investigation"

“I wasn’t going to let you keep her. She enticed you. She won you. It was always supposed to be you.”

“…blonde 21 year old was found shot…”

“Daisy,” he whispered. He traced her features with his hand, and just like that the fear escaped his eyes, and instead of scared he was now feeling complete love and he was ready because knew this is what he wanted forever. He wanted her, “Will you marry me?”

“…Her family has been under investigation after her father’s disappearance —…”

“But you jeopardized it, Soldat. It wasn’t real.”

The memories are sucked out of him like a vacuum and his dark eyes meet yours, again, across the bed.

You had never seen his pupils so blown before.

You were terrified.

Your eyes go down to his flesh hand that is twitching against his thigh.

“Bucky.” You say cautiously, one more time. It was almost like you were afraid to get closer to him.

“I—“ his voice was hoarse.

He looks away and clears his throat. He blinks away the heavy daze, allowing it all to sink in until it settles in his stomach in a surprising pool of acceptance.

He sees you again and for some reason he feels okay.

It scares him.

It scared him how you took something that had been bothering him for so long, away that quickly.

In that moment he knows.

“I remembered something.” Your eyebrows came together suddenly. Nearly moments ago he looked heartbroken but now he just looked shocked and angry.

“What did you remember? I thought you had your memories back. In Wakanda.”

“I-I did,” he squeaks out running a hand through his hair, “maybe I’m just remembering differently, or adding pieces together, I don’t know, I can’t tell. It has to be, because it makes sense. It makes so much sense now, and I can’t—and she—”

“Bucky you’re rambling,” he stops and you continue to look at each other. His face drops all traces of anger and it softens, “Talk to me, I’m right here.” You whisper.

Bucky looks down at you and nods. No hesitancy.

“Give me your hands.” You say, reaching for him. He doesn’t hold back from doing so, and once you have his hands in yours, you pull him up onto the bed so he’s kneeling on it next to you.

Bucky takes a few minutes to compose himself before he says it:

“I think Daisy and her family were Hydra.” He says it like he’s afraid of his own words.

As if every word in that phrase was a curse word.

Somehow, it relieves him.

His chest feels light, shoulders worn. He can breathe.

+ + +

“I should’ve known it was too fast. Too perfect,” you’re also stunned as he tells you everything, his hands still in yours, “but—but I don’t think she was always hydra. I think she wanted out when I was captured and they killed her for it.”

You don’t deny it, that hurts. Despite never knowing the girl and secretly holding envy for her, it pains you.

“Oh, Bucky.”

He shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing together.

“But it was a lie. She enticed me, she fucking—“ Bucky sucks in a deep breath, “she was trying to lure me in. There was nothing real about it.” He says the word like it’s venom on his lips.

You feel him rub his thumb over the back of your hand.

“You don’t know that -”

He shakes his head again, “She was Hydra!” He doesn’t say it angrily as much as he says it in a way to announce it to himself.

He needed to say it out loud. He needed to let it sink in.

You watch Bucky as he becomes completely numb, and somehow free, in front of you.

For some reason you expected more heartbreak from him for discovering something so horrible about a woman he claimed he loved so much, a woman he wanted to marry, but instead all you got from him was anger and acceptance.

Little did you know, Bucky was in the same boat as you.

Why wasn’t he as heat shattered as he’d expect?

“I-“ he’s speechless as he looks around, trying to find something, but he does’t know what.

You think you’re more shocked than him and you quickly grab his arm, bringing him against you for a tight hug.

He hugs you back immediately, hand running up your shoulder blade and onto the back of your hair.

Minutes pass by. Many minutes.

“It was all a lie,” he whispers still holding onto. you, “All of it. I really was alone. I thought I finally had someone, but—It wasn’t real.”

You don’t know what to say as you run your hand up the back of his head.

It’s not until you pull him in tighter that he realizes it.

It was you.

You were there reason this didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. His heart no longer wanted to be with someone who was long gone.

It wanted to stay here.

Here.

He never thought he would ever feel this way ever again, and he never thought he would trust this hard ever again.

Realizing truth relived him of buried pain, and he wanted you to keep holding him, to keep helping him go through this.

He says your name softly.

“Yes?”

“I want to talk about everything.”

You stiffen for a moment as you let his words sink in. You weren’t exactly sure what he was talking about.

“What are you talking about?” You ask.

“All of it. Everything that I did. I need to get it out, I can’t keep doing this, holding it in, keeping it inside —”

The euphoria through your blood is addicting.

“Tell me.”

He loved slow dancing.

He loved the Yankees.

He loved math and Howard Stark.

He went to the Stark Expo every year.

He loved The Hobbit and he loved jazz.

He loved New York City.

He loved Brooklyn the most.

He misses flat hats.

He loved telling jokes.

His mother died when he was young.

His sister was taken away from him.

He cried when he couldn’t see her.

His father died not too long after.

He never enlisted despite his love for the military.

He was drafted.  

He experienced World War II but on the enemy side.

He fought with Hitler’s and Hydra’s men.

He was loved by the KGB.

He loved Prague.

He trained the girls in the red room.

He remembers every young girl.

He was told to kill four kids on a mission once in Bucharest.

He was tormented, beaten raw, and kept in a concrete cell between cryo periods.

He was only occasionally fed, most years spent asleep.

He was treated like an animal. They tied him to the wall once in the cell, with a chain around his neck.

He was brain washed.

He was sexually assaulted by Hydra.

He doesn’t remember if he was raped, which could be his brain’s way of protecting himself from more trauma.

He reminds you that loved Howard Stark.

He killed Howard Stark.

He killed Maria Stark.

He was the one that stole the super soldier serum from the Stark’s and provided it to Hydra.

He was the fist of Hydra.

He killed many other good men. Over two dozen assassinations.

He killed JFK.

He never wanted to do any of it.

He remembers all of it.

They named him a hero on the Wall of Valor before S.H.I.E.L.D fell.

He was taken into Wakanda, freed of his trigger words.

He still loved New York City.

He was pardon him, despite everything.

They named him an Avenger.

He remembers it all.

You’re laying down facing each other and you continue to watch him as he tells you everything.

It’s one of the most surreal experiences of your life and you find yourself in total awe.  

This was the Bucky Barnes you had been longing to see. This was the man you knew was hidden beneath layers of hurt and anger.

You had seen it before he even told you.

The fact that he even trusted you enough to be this transparent with you is what makes you so happy.

His eyes brightened as he played with a string on the blanket between you.

“And Friends,” his voice is small and there’s a little smile on his mouth. Your heart swells as you watch it, “I love Friends.”

You bite your tongue as you smile.

Bucky stared at you, just as amazed at himself as he was at you. He couldn’t believe he told it all to you.

It was as if Daisy’s image had begun to dissolve and he was finally seeing clearly.

He didn’t hate you. He never hated you.

His fingers peak out slowly to take a hold of your pinky.

It was the opposite. He wanted you.

He feels himself breaking when you pull away from his touch. His smile falls.

“I’m proud of you,” you say quietly, sitting up again, “For finally talking about it.” You mean it, “Thank you.”

It takes him a few seconds to eventually look away and he turns onto his back. Bucky drapes an arm over his stomach, letting out a long breath of contentment.

He felt free.

To do what?

He looks over at you again as you pull your book back out.

This. This is what freedom got him. You.

But it you weren’t his. He clears his throat.

“How are things with your boyfriend?”

You don’t like talking about Pietro with Bucky.

“It’s fine,” you answer anyway, “We only had one date. And I got sick, so hopefully the next one will be better.”

Bucky swallows thickly. Why was he feeling like this? He should be happy for you. You wanted this. You deserved this.

“What do you plan to do when it’s time for us both to leave and go back?” He asks.

You don’t miss the way he mentions both of you to leave and your eyes quickly flicker to him.

“I don’t know yet,” you say hoarsely, filled with unexpected relief.

+ + +

Bucky doesn’t remember experiencing this kind of happiness since he was nineteen and him and Steve went to go see a baseball game after scoring a date with two pretty girls on the F train.

He’s happy.

Ashen peaks up at him from behind dark lashes, smiling so hard his eyes peak up at the side, turning them into thin slits. Bucky’s aren’t too far off as he mimics the boy’s laughter.

“Connect four?” Bucky asks, chuckling.

“Yeah, you’ve gotta try it. It’s so fun.” The Ashens says happily, pulling out the little game from underneath his bed. Bucky wants to ask him why he has it hidden, but he doesn’t. He just reminds him that they need to stay quiet, “plus, it’s the only game I have anyway. But it’s fun Mr. Bucky.”

“Haha, alright lets try it.” Bucky says.

They sit across from each other on the floor, setting up the little game and dividing their colored chips. Ashen’s goes first, dropping in a yellow one.

Bucky picks up a red one with his flesh hand and drops it right next to the yellow. They continue for a bit until Ashens notices Bucky isn’t connecting his colors.

“No, you have to try to get a straight line and connect it!” He laughs, “you suck at this."

“Oh, no! What did I do?” Bucky exclaims, laughing.

“You’re not very smart for an Avenger.” Ashens remarks.

“Okay,” Bucky points at him playfully, smiling, “That’s mean.”

“I’m sorry but it is true.”

“Cut me some slack.” Bucky says, smiling.

They play for a little longer until Ashens ends up beating him.

Bucky sticks his tongue out at the boy, but smiles. He eventually caught on to the game and let him win. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“Mr. Bucky,” Ashen says after he slides the game back under his head. He brings his legs up to his chest and hugs them, "Will you tell me now why you are here to save me?”

Bucky licks his lip and sighs. He looks out Ashens' high rise window and then back to him again. “Not yet.”

“Should I be afraid.”

“No. I won’t let anything happen you. I promise.”

Ashens doesn’t say anything as he lets his Mike Wazowski slippers hit each other.

“Do you have any kids? Like my age?”

The question surprises Bucky, and for a moment a feeling of longing hits him. “No. I don’t.”

“Aww okay.”

Bucky stares at Ashens little sad face and his heart breaks.

“I always wanted to, though,” Bucky whispers, “But that was years ago.”

“When you were in world war one?”

Bucky smiles.

“Two, not one, but yeah,” it’s not a lie, Bucky knows that if his loved would’ve went a different way, he would have definitely had kids. To know he could never go back to such simplicity broke his heart, “Something like that.”

There was something, that even so many months later, still bothered Bucky. It was something so small, and it probably didn’t really affect you as much as it affected him, but it was something you said to him.

It was one of your many fights and the way you had spatted at him about buying you plan B after you had sex.

He didn’t want to burden you. What you two had done had been irresponsible. An atmosphere like this was no place and time for an unwanted baby.

You weren’t ready for one, let alone his.

At the time, it wasn’t that he wouldn’t want the baby, if you were to have gotten pregnant, he would have loved that child with everything. He was thinking about you.

He hated to think that he gave you that pill as a gesture to say that he wanted nothing to do with you.

If so, you were wrong.

He wanted you to be happy, just smart.

He cared about you.

And now, possibly more.

As he continues to watch Ashens giggling over his slippers, that feeling of longing washes over Bucky again.

He knows he needs to tell you.

+ + +

You still weren’t feeling well. Maybe it was your nerves. The end of the mission was getting closer by each day and you never expected you’d have to leave with a little kid. You still hadn’t met Ashens, but Bucky says he’s a delight.

Ashens has changed him. You took notice immediately and it made you happy. This whole experience would be good for him.

After Bucky had poured out his heart to you, you knew you needed to get away again. That was the dance now. You get pulled, you take a step back. You couldn’t let yourself go there anymore, no matter how hard it was.

Pietro would be the driving force to help you.

You just wish Bucky would stop doing things that he probably realized he wasn’t even doing. The way he touches your face and your hand, or some times the way he looks at you, was not appropriate for two fuck buddies who stopped…fucking.

You were still convinced that he wanted you two to go your separate ways at the end of this mission. Him indirectly saying he was going to walk out with you made you happy, it could’ve been Ashens that helped him have a change of heart, whatever it was, this thing between you had to dissolve anyway.

You couldn’t keep doing that to himself, even when he would blur your lines.

You really wished he would stop doing that.

That night you after the ball, you were almost sure that he was developing feelings for you - finally - it’s why you tried to get him to finally tell you why the kiss bothered him.

Bucky never told you the truth, and you were too tired to keep digging.

You were glad that was the last time.

It was over. All of it was over.

Your stomach churns again and you decide to make yourself some tea and head to bed.

@snakeeatery17 @utterlyhopeful-fics , @marvelfan1017, @iheartsebastianstan , @annathesillyfriend , @redhairedfeistynerd, @perksofbeingabookworm, @amyrose051, @meegggoooo, @morganclaire4 , @captainchrisstan, @bxndys , @shoesonpointe ,  @writerwrites, @rainbowkisses31, @lindatreb , @littlemissner98 , @dezzylou24, @ayeitslelee , @hardygal69 ,  @emmabarnes , @redbarn1995@thequeenreaders@ilovemysupersoldiers@maximumplaidzonknerd@ceapa-mica @s-trawberryv-eins@buckysknifecollections@sobangie@lindatreb@theseuscmander@nervous-plant @wildmoonflower @aya-fay@appreciating-fanfics@kaitlynisinfinite@justreadingfics@kaitieskidmore1 @mrsdancing​ @everythingiloveandcherish @shinykoalacat​ @dragongirl31 @kaitlynisinfinite​ @alwaysclassyeagle

[ladyartemesia]

The Praetor

◐ PART VI of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Series Masterlist ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Part III ◐ Part IV ◐ Part V ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Hard Mature 18+ (for this installment)

Warnings: sexual content including grinding and marking, some light (and totally consensual) manhandling, ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming. Violence and discussion of violence relating to ritual combat, possessive behavior, injuries and discussion of injuries

Special Note: Yoonji and Yunli are NOT the same person. Yoonji is Yoongi and Yunli’s cousin. She is sometimes affectionately called “Ji-ah.”

Word Count: 5500 (wow)

Author’s Note: Life has been really hard. I won’t beat around the bush. It was hard to do anything... but your kind words and support really kept me going. Truly you guys straight up manifested this chapter with your incredible support. As always, my angels @ppersonna​ @xjoonchildx​ @untaemedqueen​ and @underthejoon​ were the best betas and the best friends anyone could ask for. My thanks to ALL of you for helping me bring this story to life!

“Alpha.” 

Namjoon’s voice echoed through the clearing with profound resonance. 

There would be no more fighting. 

There would be no more doubt.

It was a complete surrender, the kind only a true Alpha could compel. 

A frantic whimper suddenly split the air, drawing every eye to you-

 But you saw only him. 

“Untie me,” you pleaded, struggling impatiently against the restraints. 

One of the elders moved to release you, but before she could, Jin produced a knife and cut you free with the kind of terrifying precision expected of a man who was every bit as deadly as he was beautiful. 

Then you were running - and this time, no one could stop you. 

Your body crashed into his and fiery joy shot through you as he pulled you into his arms. 

His scent wrapped around your senses like a warm blanket, covering the fear and pain of the past days in unimaginable relief. 

 “Jimin.”

“I’m here. I have you,” he whispered. 

Your entire frame seemed to shake as you sobbed against his chest. It was as if you could not draw close enough - could not hold tight enough - to be satisfied. Part of you was still terrified that you would wake up and discover that all of this had been a dream...

Then you heard it.

Another set of knees hitting the ground. 

“Alpha.”

Then another-

“Alpha.“

And another 

“Alpha.”

Till the air was filled with hundreds of voices, all speaking the same word.

“Alpha.”

Namjoon remembered very little of what happened after his surrender...

Just pain. 

His limbs seemed oddly disconnected from the rest of his body. There was blood everywhere (and he was reasonably sure it was his). 

He knew he should feel defeated, broken - ashamed even.

Instead he felt strangely...

Light. 

As if a great weight had lifted from his shoulders. 

The last thing he saw before losing consciousness entirely was Yunli’s tear-stained gaze - still fixed on him - even as the others turned to face their new Alpha. 

He breathed out her name in a quiet, desperate plea as the darkness overtook him. 

Jimin was only in your arms a few moments before healers and half the elder’s council came rushing forward on all sides. 

You snarled instinctively at the first elder who tried to collect him, but a healer eventually got close enough to reason with you after pointing out that the wound on his shoulder could possibly become infected if left untreated for much longer.

An Alpha’s injuries always took the highest priority, but Jimin directed them all toward Namjoon, brushing away anyone who attempted to tend to him. 

By that point Jin and your mother had found their way to your side and were gently trying to pull you back - even as more elders reached for your mate. 

Everyone was speaking at once - words about preparations and plans and ceremonies - but none of it registered over the waves of frantic adrenaline still pounding through your system. 

You didn’t know what they wanted or why they were so close-

just that they were trying to take him away again. 

No. 

Suddenly a senior elder placed his hand on Jimin’s forearm and your wolf snapped entirely. 

Omegas were known for their speed and as a Luna, yours was unparalleled.

Two council members and a healer went flying into the dirt within the space of a single second as your body instinctively assumed a defensive stance. The remaining elders stumbled back in alarm and your mother fainted dead away forcing Jin to catch her rather inelegantly. 

Your canines began to lengthen as you pressed your back to the Alpha, letting primal rage guide your movements. 

They had tied you up. 

Forced you to watch as he was attacked again and again and again-

An omega would defend their mate to the death and you had spent days knowing he was in danger...

Feeling powerless, feeling paralyzed- 

Your wolf had simply had enough. 

“Luna please-“ the chief elder began cautiously, but you cut him off with warning growl and lunged - fully prepared to end the next person who attempted to separate you from-

Strong arms closed around you, pulling you back to the comforting warmth that enveloped you moments ago.

Jimin. 

“Luna,” he whispered against your skin and you shivered, letting your eyes flutter shut. 

Then you felt it. 

The gentle pressure of the Alpha - your mate - nosing softly at your neck. 

It was a gesture of soothing affection. 

Of gratitude. 

Slowly he turned you in his arms till you were facing him once again. The fire in your blood began to fade as you simply took him in, struck by the sensual beauty of his face and the possessive heat in his gaze. 

“So fierce,” he hummed, tilting his head so you could bury yourself in his scent once more. His hands brushed soothing circles over your back, leaving delicious sparks of pleasure in their wake. 

“I’m safe,” he promised as you nuzzled into him needily. “You can rest now...” 

The pleasant pull of his command wove heavily through your senses. You felt your feet leave the ground as he lifted you fully into his arms...

Then you slipped into a blissful sleep. 

The healers worked for hours on Namjoon. 

Some betas were blessed with minor healing abilities - a valuable gift stemming from a type of energy transference. He could feel the heat of their hands as they poured themselves - literally - into mending his battered body.  

His ribs were set and wrapped tightly and the swelling and bruising were already beginning to fade due to the assortment of vile tasting herbal concoctions they insisted on ramming down his throat. 

Accelerated healing and potent herbal intervention truly went a long way, but it would take time and rest to restore him fully.

Despite his lingering soreness, Namjoon was finally lucid enough to think for the first time since the fight and there was certainly a wealth of things to think about…

Yet his mind kept going back to that moment-

To her. 

“Kim Namjoon.”

Every hair on his body raised to attention. 

“Alpha-” 

He struggled to pull himself upright, but Jimin placed a hand on his arm to still him. 

“Please,” he spoke softly, “let me sit. I’ve caused you enough trouble for one day.”

A painful chuckle stuttered out of Namjoon and he shook his head. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that? We both know this is entirely my fault.”

Jimin’s eyes dropped in reluctant amusement.. 

“You think rather highly of yourself,” he said with a barely perceptible grin, echoing his words in the chief elder’s chambers a day - a lifetime - ago. “I believe I had something to do with it as well.”

Namjoon laughed and winced immediately. He rubbed gingerly over the binding on his ribs before voicing the question that had plagued him from the moment he awoke. 

“How quickly?” 

The Alpha tilted his head in confusion. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“How quickly,” Namjoon grunted, pulling himself to an upright position, “could you have killed me?”

There was a strange sort of acceptance in his eyes, a profound and untainted respect that Jimin was wholly unused to receiving from a man like him. 

It was equal parts humbling and overwhelming. 

“The first hit... a little to the left - at full force -  would have fractured your sternum and penetrated your heart.  You’d have been dead in a matter of minutes.”

Namjoon was silent for a long time. 

“Why did you spare me? ...I challenged you, threatened you, intended to lay claim to your mate which-” he rubbed idly at the back of his neck, “I’m beginning to understand is enough to enrage any man… So why am I still here?”

“Because,” Jimin sighed, “apparently I think very highly of you too, Kim Namjoon.”

“Well… I’m flattered, but I - I still don’t understand… I’ve done nothing but underestimate you. Most wolves would have made an example of me.”

“Oh I intend to make an example of you,” Jimin smiled and Namjoon felt his blood run cold for the briefest instant, “but not in the way you’re thinking.” 

The Alpha’s eyes took on a strangely solemn light. “I have no intention of ruling through fear and violence.”

After a moment, his gaze met Namjoon’s again. 

“You were right… Without your challenge, the pack would never have trusted my leadership. You were the obvious choice to be Alpha and without defeating you decisively, they would always look to you as an alternative.”

Namjoon eyed his collection of injuries sardonically. 

“Something tells me you won’t have that issue now.”

“And I have you to thank for that.”

“So … you spared my life in gratitude?”

“I spared your life because it was well worth sparing. You have always led your clan with honor and dignity. You don’t strike me as someone who enjoys killing, yet you were willing to do so for the good of our people. Such a man is a far better example alive than he is dead.”

Namjoon could not help but be impressed by the younger alpha’s insight and perception. 

Our goddess has chosen well. 

“I am grateful for your mercy, Alpha... Though I’m sure there are some who believe I should have chosen death over the disgrace of defeat.”

Jimin’s jaw clenched. . 

“Defeat is not a disgrace. I have learned some of my greatest lessons from it. Defeat is often a vital stop on the path to victory.”

The elder alpha grinned. 

“I wouldn’t know. This is the first time I’ve lost.”

Jimin laughed and Namjoon’s impish smile suddenly became oddly serious. 

“I want you to know…  You have my loyalty - without question - and not simply because you spared me. It is clear that you were meant to lead.”

A subtle hint of awe crept into his tone as he continued. 

“Honestly… I’ve only ever heard stories of primal alphas. I never thought I’d meet one,” he snorted, “or be foolish enough to fight him.“

Jimin drew back in confusion. 

“I’m not familiar- ...I’ve never heard of a primal alpha.”

“Really?... Well ...I suppose that makes sense. I forgot how often you skipped camp.” He sighed and shifted into a more comfortable position before answering. 

“A primal alpha is goddess-blessed. They cannot be compelled. Their command is powerful enough to compel members of other packs and even non-wolves. It is a rare gift.”

Jimin’s face easily betrayed his shock. 

“I-...That’s-” he shook his head. “Why do you believe I have such a gift?”

“I suppose the first hint should have been your coloring. Silver wolves are never born to mundane destinies... But the real proof is in your eyes.” Namjoon leaned back against the headboard, quietly reliving the moment he discovered the depth of Jimin’s ability. “When you commanded me to yield, your eyes flashed gold. It’s the true sign of a primal alpha... of a king.”

King. 

The word fell heavily between them. 

A human king was a politician, a figurehead whose power became more symbolic as the ages passed. 

But to the wolf nations, a king - an Alpha - was the heart of their pack. A warrior who bore the burden of leadership alongside his Luna. 

The power of a wolf king was quite real. 

The Alpha shifted uncomfortably 

“I never thought I would be a king.”

“And I never thought I wouldn’t be.” His eyes dropped to his hands. “I’m not quite sure what I am anymore.”

“Perhaps I can help with that.”

Namjoon’s gaze met his with cautious curiosity. 

“Oh?”

“You said yourself I skipped Alpha camp every year. I may have been destined to lead, but I won’t pretend that I’m completely prepared for it.”

All at once Namjoon realized why Jimin was there. 

The transfer of power was a long and intricate process that should remain essentially uninterrupted until its completion. 

There could only be one reason the Alpha had come to his bedside. 

He was here to appoint his Praetor. 

A Praetor wielded nearly as much authority as the Alpha. In terms of pack hierarchy, only the Alpha outranked him (or her). The commitment required was immense. Their role encompassed everything from ‘chief advisor’ to ‘the last line of defense.’

Praetor were expected to cut all obligations to their own clan and serve only the Alpha. They were an extension of his authority and vision. It was a lifetime appointment which could be extremely dangerous (depending on the number of territorial disputes one’s pack might be involved in). 

If anything were to happen to the Alpha, a Praetor would assume the responsibility of protecting the Luna and ruling by her side (without any romantic obligations as Praetor often had their own mates) until their death. 

“What about Taehyung?”

Jimin shrugged. 

“What about him? I assure you, he has no interest in this at all.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides, he serves me well as a best friend... A Praetor must be willing to disagree with me from time to time without worrying too much about my feelings. They must be in tune with the needs of the pack. Kim Taehyung is a good man… but he isn’t the right one. Not for this.”

The elder alpha considered his next words carefully. 

“What you’re asking is no small request.”

“True,” Jimin nodded, “but how about this…” he grinned mischievously, “I promise to put in a good word for you with Min Yoongi when he finds out what you’ve done to his little sister.”

“I haven’t done anything to his little sister.”

“Yet.”

Namjoon cleared his throat guiltily. 

“You realize this means we’ll have to talk every single day.”

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for the good of the pack.”

Namjoon laughed and Jimin smiled back, more sure than ever that he was making the right choice. 

After a moment the Alpha held out his hand in an age old ceremonial gesture and finally voiced the question he had come to ask. 

“Kim Namjoon, will you forsake your place in the clan of your blood to serve your Alpha and your pack as Praetor. Will you protect my blood as your own and fight by my side till the paths of our lives be complete?

Namjoon’s gaze locked with his as their palms met, letting the force of his resolve color each word. 

“I swear it shall be so.” 

It was well past noon when you stumbled from your bedroom to find Jin spread luxuriously over your kitchen island, popping berries into his mouth like a debauched satyr. 

“I feel very odd…” you yawned, “almost like I-”

“Attacked half the elders council in a fit of horny rage?”

Your jaw dropped. 

“I did no such thing!” A few choice memories began to flood back and your staunch defensive tirade stuttered in shock. “Wait...Did I-”

“You did.”

“I wouldn’t call it horny rage,” you muttered, massaging your temples as you struggled to process your own actions. 

“I don’t know, the whole thing looked very horny to me.”

“Everything looks horny to you.”

Jin grinned but didn’t bother denying it. 

“What do you remember?”

“I remember…” you pulled a water bottle from the fridge and took a long drink before answering,”...Jimin’s victory... People kept trying to take him away and then-”

Heat streaked across the back of your neck as you recalled the press of his lips on your skin.

“Oh...”

You shivered deliciously.  

Jin sighed. “Yes, you were quite the spectacle. Who knows how many throats you would have ripped out if the Alpha had not intervened.”

“Oh goddess,” you moaned, burying your face in your hands. “He probably thinks I’m a lunatic.”

Jin rolled his eyes. 

“I wonder if there is a celestial punishment for smacking the Luna upside the head.”

“Punishable by death - for sure,” you pouted, “and why would you even want to do that?”

“Because you’re an idiot. The man risked his life for you in ritual combat and then carried you home in his arms all the way from the sacred circle like a fairy tale princess.”

“He... he did?”

Your cousin nodded and tossed another berry in his mouth. 

“The whole scene was so disgustingly romantic. I would have swooned if I wasn’t left to haul your mother back. Honestly I think I threw out my back.”  

“And - and the pack?”

“They were free to swoon since they weren’t carrying your mother and most of them did. The man has become a bit of a legend already. Namjoon is one of the strongest alphas in the mountain kingdoms and Park Jimin dispatched him like it was nothing.” He paused to dab berry juice off his absurdly full lips. “I’d be surprised if every pack for a hundred miles hasn’t heard about it by now.”

“How is Namjoon?”

“Alive. He will make a full recovery.”

You sighed in relief. Truly, you had no desire to mate with the Kim alpha, but (despite the grumbling of your bloodthirsty wolf) you never wanted him dead. 

Not to mention the loss of Namjoon would have cast a heavy shade over Jimin’s leadership. He was wise to spare him. 

“Where is he? I want to see him.”

“Namjoon is with the healers-”

“Kim Seokjin,” you bopped him with your now empty water bottle. “I am obviously not talking about Namjoon. Where is my mate?!”

“Calm down, cousin. You’re getting that throat-rippy gleam in your eye again and I’m far too beautiful to go out like that.” 

He reached for another berry. 

“I need to see him.”

You were already marching toward the door when Jin yanked you back. It was always a surprise to see how fast he could move when he wanted to. 

“My dear sweet Luna, you have one murderous rampage and forget all about our tedious traditions. The elders will be drowning him in the preparations and expectations of leadership for at least another ten hours.”

None of Jin’s sensible reminders mattered the least bit to your wolf. She was already suggesting all sorts of reasons you should just march into the council chambers and take him. 

Park Jimin was yours. 

You’ve waited long enough. 

Your hand tightened on the doorknob. 

“He left something for you.”

Kim Seokjin really was a wickedly clever man. He knew exactly which cards to play and exactly when to play them. 

Your heart stuttered wildly in your chest as Jin nodded toward a small box on the table. 

“He sent Taehyung to drop it off not long after the elders dragged him away from your bedside.” 

If you had even an ounce of dignity left, you might have been embarrassed by how quickly you scrambled over to the gift, but you were well past caring about such things when it came to him. 

Your cousin shook his head as you eagerly tore into the wrapping, impatient to discover what he could have possibly-

You gasped. 

There, laying nestled in an ornate wooden box with a lavish blue satin interior, was the most beautiful pair of gloves you had ever seen…

Your fingers reached out to brush the soft white leather, custom stitched with intricately embroidered vines that wound around a beautiful silver wolf. 

“They’re exquisite.”

Jim’s brow furrowed in confusion. 

“They’re not just exquisite, they’re one of a kind.” His fingers traced over the emblem on the box. “This is the mark of the Bangtan Leatherworkers Guild. Every one of their pieces is unique.” 

Your head tilted curiously as Jin began to lift back the satin lining.

“What are you doing?”

“You can only buy their merchandise directly from the shop in Seoul. There’s no way he could have gotten these today.”

“R...Really?”

Jin nodded. 

“I’m about to find out for sure. Each piece produced by the guild comes with a certification. It includes the date of manufacture and the date of sale.”

After a moment he withdrew a small card embossed with gold writing. 

“Well... what does it say?” you pressed impatiently. 

An odd little smile drifted across Jin’s lips as he considered the information in his hands. 

“These gloves were sold to Park Jimin three years ago... a few days before your 17th birthday.” 

Min Yunli slept for most of the day after Taehyung brought her home. 

The Alpha ordered his second to secure her and see to her safety not long after lifting the Luna into his arms. 

In the end, Tae had to compel her again.

She fought to stay near Namjoon, but he needed medical attention and there was no real reason to allow her any access to the fallen alpha. 

She had no claim on him. 

She was nothing to him. 

Nothing at all. 

When she finally opened her eyes the sun was already dipping low on the horizon and the world around her was dim. 

Aching emptiness sat heavily in her chest. The Change was another six days away which meant the connection between her consciousness and her wolf was not fully solidified…  but she could still feel acidic pain of rejection festering in both halves of her heart. 

Tears fell silently down her cheek as she considered her actions and what the consequences might be. 

Namjoon probably hated her now. She had ruined everything for him. 

An angry growl rumbled up from her stomach. 

Yunli snorted humorously and shrugged off her dirty clothes, throwing on an oversized t-shirt before trudging out to the refrigerator. 

Of all the problems she was facing, hunger was the easiest to fix. 

“Do you normally walk around without pants?” 

She just barely bit back a scream. 

There - sitting on her couch (and looking significantly better than he had the last time she’d seen him) - was Kim Namjoon. 

“How did you get in here?!” Yunli squeaked. 

Namjoon held up a key. 

“Yoongi gave it to me years ago.”

Though I doubt he intended for me to use it like this. 

Her fists clenched and unclenched reflexively at her side. 

“Have you… come to yell at me?” she whispered.

Namjoon didn’t respond right away, he was too distracted by the shapely curve of her legs and the soft glow of her skin under the warmth of the living room lamps. 

Yunli, however, took his silence as confirmation of her worst fears. 

“I’m so sorry...” she trembled, her beautiful eyes glistening poetically with unshed tears. “I don’t - I don’t know what came over me - I know I cost you the fight and I-”

Namjoon felt a chuckle bubble up in chest and winced. 

“Yunli...your screams, however affecting, could not undo the will of the goddess.” He shook his head, “Park Jimin was born to be the Alpha.”  His fingers rubbed idly at his chest. “I’ve never come across anything like his power.”

Her eyes traced over the damage to his body with obvious remorse. 

“Are you ok?” she asked finally. 

He had four cracked ribs, several critical lacerations, a concussion, two sprained elbows, countless contusions, and a split lip. 

“Ah, it’s nothing,” he shrugged, barely suppressing a groan. 

Yunli grinned, helplessly endeared as always. She opened her mouth to ask again why he was here, but he cut her off with a surprisingly curt question. 

“Has Taehyung seen you like this?”

Yunli blinked. Twice. 

“T-Taehyung? Like Kim Taehyung - your cousin?”

“Second cousin,” he growled, “I was told he brought you home.”

“Well. Yes. He did… I’m really grateful to him actually. I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t caught me and calmed me down.”

A loud ringing was building in Namjoon’s ears. 

“Do you have an understanding with him?” he snarled. 

Yunli’s jaw dropped. 

“An understanding? With Yoonji’s Taehyung?!” She snorted. “I don’t have a death wish.”

“What’s Yoonji got to do with this? Isn’t she in Europe?”

“Never mind that. Why would you think Tae and I-”

“Tae?!”

Yunli’s eyes narrowed. 

“What’s going on in that busted up skull of yours, Kim Namjoon?”

Namjoon was off the couch and pressing her against the wall faster than she would have thought possible in his condition. 

“What’s going on is that for the past year you’ve been a real problem for me, Min Yunli.”

Yunli gasped as the muscled lines of his body weighed firmly into her own. Deep curls of pleasure flared up at every contact point. 

Yes. Oh goddess, yes. 

The force of his desire burned hot in the air between them. She had waited years for him to see her like this - to touch her like this...

“I wasn’t supposed to feel anything when you looked at me with your heart in those pretty brown eyes,” he murmured, brushing the tips of his fingers up over her arms till he was cupping her chin. 

Yunli’s wolf keened in delight as she melted helplessly into his embrace. 

It felt good. It felt so so good. 

“I was convinced you were a challenge - a divine temptation put in my path to test my resolve-” his jaw clenched, “or simply an endless source of torment because you wanted me so badly and I could never have you.”

The sound of ripping fabric split the air as Namjoon clawed through the neckline of her t-shirt, baring her pert little breasts to him like an obscene feast. 

“I was supposed to want the Luna,” he growled, squeezing the soft mounds roughly in his palms till she was whining and writhing against him, “-not Min Yoongi’s sweet little sister.”

Her gaze was so open - so trusting. Adoration shone through every inch of her regard and it was intoxicating. 

She was intoxicating. 

His hand slid down to grip her thighs, lifting her body till she was forced to wrap her legs around him for balance. 

“Namjoon,” she whimpered as the sensitive folds of her core ground into his growing hardness. 

“You just kept pushing and pushing-” he hissed, punctuating each word with delicious thrusts till the maddening pressure in her center was nearly unbearable. “Then last night you offered me a taste and it nearly destroyed me.”

His mouth finally descended on hers again and she opened to him eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck with wanton desperation. A tortured groan slipped past his lips as he dragged her away from the wall and onto the sofa where she first discovered him. 

“Is this what you wanted, Min Yunli?” he rasped between the fervent mating of their mouths. “To make me desperate? To take me apart until I’m half-mad with wanting you?”

“Yes,” she sobbed as he sucked mark after mark into her flesh, painting her body with the evidence of his passion.

She slipped her hands greedily under his shirt, aching to feel more of his skin against her own. Needy whines and moans fell from her mouth like a siren’s call, beckoning Namjoon to lose himself in the lush warmth of her body. 

“If Kim Taehyung puts his greasy hands on you again, I’ll kill him.”

Yunli mewled in primal gratification at his bold words. She had waited far too long to hear them. 

“All those months I suffered because my wolf recognized what I was too ignorant to see.” 

The last shreds of her shirt flew across the room and Namjoon pinned her wrists above her head like a pagan offering, allowing his free hand to explore her curves with impassioned reverence. 

“You are mine, Yunli,” he swore. 

And she was. 

She always had been. 

Following Jimin’s victory, the pack exploded into a chaotic storm of gossip and ceremonial preparations. The story of his unlikely path to power had already spread beyond the borders of the mountain kingdoms. 

“-messages are coming in from the high packs of Delhi and Beijing requesting to meet with him-“

The rise of new pack leaders typically brought with it a buzz of excitement, but the Luna and her newly victorious Alpha were anything but typical. 

“-he’s a silver wolf. I always knew he was meant for more than just heading up the Park clan-“

The last Alpha king (the current Luna’s great-grandfather) died peacefully in his sleep nearly thirty years ago and the elder’s council ruled in the interim while they waited for a new Alpha to rise. This was the first (and likely the only) coronation most people would see in their lifetime. 

“ - my friend from Seoul is begging me to invite her. Outsiders aren’t allowed to attend unless they’re the guest of a pack member- “

Preparations to transfer power were every bit as tedious and time consuming as the rest of pack law. 

“-the council just announced that he’s chosen a Praetor. I’m sure it will be Taehyung-“

Aside from sneaking out to secure his Praetor (who was not Taehyung), the new Alpha had been holed up with the council, the heads of the ten major clans, and an army of envoys from other packs for nearly twelve hours. 

“ -grandfather worked with him all day. He claims that the future king has already impressed the council-”

Park Jimin’s name echoed through the mountain kingdoms. People could speak of nothing else. 

But there was one member of the pack who had not yet heard the news...

Yoongi took a deep breath as he waited for the woman on the other end of the line to accept his call. He was mentally and physically exhausted, but he had promised to tell her what happened as soon as he could.

Silence lingered eerily in the first few moments after she picked up. 

“I really debated answering this,” Min Yoonji whispered at last. “I don’t know if I can bear to hear you say that Park Jimin is dead.”

She sighed heavily as she ambled down the stairs of her tiny apartment in Paris. 

There were too many happy memories connected with him. He was Tae’s best friend... His loss would tear her former lover apart. 

And she could not be there for him when it did. 

She could never be there for him...

Several thousand miles away her cousin smiled. 

“Park Jimin is not dead, Ji-ah.”

Yoonji missed the last step and crashed down inelegantly on her tail bone. 

“WHAT?!” Her fingers scrambled to hold the phone secure in her precarious position. “You mean to tell me that Kim Namjoon lost - to PARK JIMIN?!”

“You sure picked a wild time to move to Europe,” Yoongi chuckled. 

“I didn’t really move here per se... I just relocated temporarily but indefinitely.”

“Yes, I’m well aware. Your mother is still howling about what a disgrace it was to go through the Change away from your friends and family. So thank you for that.”

Yoonji sighed. 

“What’s done is done... I know you don’t understand, but I promise to explain someday.” Her eyes drifted shut as she forced the pain in her heart aside. “... I can’t believe I missed all this. You have to tell me how he did it.”

“I will later, but I need to head back to the council chambers. We had a brief recess and I figured I’d call since it’s still early over there. However… I do have one last shocking revelation for you before I go.”

Yoonji rolled her eyes at her cousin’s dramatics. 

“I’m not sure anything could shock me after finding out that Park Jimin is our new Alpha.”

“Jimin just made Namjoon his Praetor.”

Apparently I was wrong. 

“WHAT!? So wait - that means Jinwook is now head of the Kim Clan?”

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“Jinwook? No, how could - ah never mind. You were already in Europe when he left.”

“Jinwook left?!”

“Yeah, he was finishing up a consultation in Bangkok when he met his mate in one of the packs up there. It's an older pack with almost no alphas so they asked him to stay. He’s lived in Thailand since August.” Yoongi yawned. “Believe it or not Kim Taehyung was just sworn in as the Kim Clan alpha.”

Dead silence met his declaration. For a moment he wondered if the call had been disconnected but then-

“...What... did you just say?” 

Yoonji’s voice had taken on a strange hollow quality that had her cousin frowning into the receiver. 

“I said Taehyung was just sworn in as a Clan alpha.”

“That... no that can’t be right... You’re saying Kim Taehyung - my Taehyung-”

“What do you mean your Taehyung?!”

“- is a Clan alpha?”

“Yoonji. I can’t believe I’m repeating this a third time. Yes. Tae is the new head of the Kim Clan. I watched him take the oath twenty minutes ago and I have to say-”

A heart wrenching sob cut him off abruptly. 

“Oh goddess what have I done,” she gasped. 

Yoongi’s eyes widened in fear and alarm. 

“Ji-ah? What’s wrong?... Ji-ah?... Ji-ah?!”

But the line was dead. 

Don’t Miss Chapter VII: The Luna… Coming Soon!

If you would like to be added to the taglist, please comment on this post. If you have already asked then you will be automatically tagged in all future updates.

Guys I cannot emphasize enough how much your support has meant to me these last few weeks. 

Your comments and your love kept me going. I truly value it so much and it fuels my creativity. Please let me know what you thought? It is incredibly rewarding and motivating to hear from you!

I really struggled with this update. It was much longer and took a lot out of me... I hope you love the final product as much as I do…

Bonus: The gloves Jimin sent his Luna...

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Illuminated, pt.2

Summary: Seeing an old friend isn’t always a happy occasion, but it can direct you to someone who undoubtedly makes your heart beat faster.

Warnings: talk of war and death, book spoilers

Part 1   

=================================

It felt strange to be walking the same halls she once revered. Y/N had barely grown at all since her time at Little Palace, if anything she'd claim she got shorter, but the walls didn't seem as intimidating as they used to.

Back then, she was just a clueless girl with dreams that turned into nightmares. The war had left deep wounds everywhere in Ravka and for that, Y/N would curse Alina Starkov's name until her dying breath.

Ravka trusted Alina to rescue them from the darkness, but she only expanded it. She fled from her responsibility and responded with force when General Kirigan asked for accountability.

Y/N was considered too young to be allowed in battle, sent away by the Darkling with children who have not yet mastered their particular branch of small science. Grisha a year older than her were given the chance to protect Ravka, something she wished she could have done. 

If it were up to her, she'd have stood by him instead of hiding.

Y/N had always been quite capable of controlling her power. Whether it be fire, wind or water, she held a firm grasp over all three elements with an iron fist and a terrifyingly sharp mind. She had developed attacks no one else is capable of, the kind that made other Grisha wary of her ferocity.

Naturally, she assumed that was why General Kirigan had called on her. The last thing she expected was to have the General, her King, admire the abominable blue flames she wields.

"Y/N?" A breathless reminder of a voice she once knew had stopped her in her tracks.

Looking over her shoulder, Y/N's lips break into a wide smile at the sight of her old friend and confidant.

She didn't waste time, running toward the girl who had fiery hair Y/N always wanted to have too. Colliding with Genya, Y/N couldn't stop a laugh that escaped her as she wrapped her arms around her much taller friend.

“I. Can’t. Breathe!” Genya manages to say between shallow, strained breaths. 

Chuckling, Y/N releases her from the death grip she calls a hug. She’s never been subtle in showing affection, or hate.

“I can’t believe it’s you!” Y/N exclaims, her attempt to quiet down failing before she even tries.

With a surprised smile set on her lips, Genya nods. “I didn’t realize you’d be at Little Palace.”

Faltering, Y/N licks her lips as her smile is erased. “You don’t seem too happy about that.”

“Little Palace isn’t exactly the safest place in Ravka anymore”, Genya musses.

Scoffing, Y/N furrows her eyebrows. “Alina made it unsafe.” Lifting her chin, Y/N continues, “The Darkling will protect us.”

Pursing her lips, Genya looks around carefully to ensure they’re alone. “That’s the problem. While he’s here, no one is safe.” Taking Y/N by the elbow, she pulls her aside toward the open window to help disguise their voices from any curious listeners. “Alina was our only hope of killing him.”

Ripping her arm away from Genya’s hold, Y/N narrows her eyes at the friend she once trusted more than anyone else in this world. When there was no hope, Genya put a smile on her face. Even when Y/N was losing herself, she had Genya to remind her of who she is.

She never doubted her friend, never questioned her loyalty or sanity. Until now. 

“Genya, who did you fight alongside with?” Y/N asks sharply, her lips forming a thin line.

“You don’t know the entire story”, Genya tries but Y/N steps away as if she’d been burned.

The war had made warriors from children for no matter how they tried to protect their innocence, war leaves no one untouched. When Alina Starkov decided to turn her back on Grisha, Y/N and many others have been forced to grow up far too quickly. No silly crushes or petty arguments mattered for the blood had reached them once Alina slaughtered Botkin in front of them. It was the only taste of war Y/N had for she had killed for the first time on that day. 

Alina is the reason she has blood on her hands.

“The story I do know is enough for me”, Y/N huffs as she shakes her head at Genya. “The fact our General did not kill you is proof of his generosity. Perhaps you should learn to appreciate him. Your precious Alina never showed such mercy.”

Turning her back on Genya, Y/N headed back. She didn’t want to explore the old corridors anymore, but to bathe and sleep. From tomorrow on, she’ll be working with Kirigan on her new ability and she didn’t want to display any reasons for him to distrust her.

She pauses as Genya speaks up.

“I wonder what will get you killed faster – your loyalty or stubbornness?”

Turning her head to the left, Y/N could see her old friend in her peripheral vision. “At least I’ll die for something I believe in. I’ll die for Ravka. Can you say the same?”

Fuming, Y/N tossed and turned in her bed. She turned the pillow to the colder side, she even tried turning her head on the opposite side of the headboard, but nothing could calm her mind or the itching to use her powers to blow off some steam.

The one part of herself she truly did connect with the Inferni was the temper she often got in trouble for. When Nina Zenik called her stupid, she burned off her eyebrows and Botkin forced her to wake up at the crack of dawn and do sprints for the next month as punishment. It’s probably the only time in her life she was truly in good form.

Grunting, she raised her legs and slammed them back on the mattress in frustration. Tossing the blanket off, she grabbed her blue kefta and left the room. 

Her footsteps echo the halls as she all but runs out, straight into the foggy morning air outside. The cold pinches her skin, her lips trembling for a moment before she sinks her front teeth into her bottom lip. Her breaths come in visible puffs of air as she wraps her arms around her middle while securing her hands under her armpits to stop herself from using her power that’s calling to her like the siren song calls sailors to their certain death.

Y/N always had the misfortune of wearing her heart on her sleeve with those she cares for. She also has a nasty tendency to either feel nothing or everything at once and when someone she loves turns out to be different than what she believed, it causes an uncontrollable explosion of emotion deep within.

“Is there a particular reason you’re outside at this ungodly hour?” A deep voice makes her gasp as she turns to look at the very person she most admires.

Raising her eyebrows, she nearly laughed as she realized the Darkling wore not his kefta, but the clothes he sleeps in. It’s loose clothing, black as his kefta and horse and yet it gives off a softness she did not realize a man as powerful as him could ever possess.

“I’d ask you the same, General”, she retorts with her eyebrows still raised as if she’s challenging him to come closer and make her stop ogling him.

For a moment, she thought he might turn away and leave as he stood there calmly. It feels as if he’s studying her, taking in every inch of her and committing it to memory. If it were any other man, Y/N would have spoken up or acted out to prevent the uncomfortable feeling of being watched so intimately, yet she didn’t want Kirigan to ever stop looking at her. If not for her fear of being too forward, she’d invite him closer.

As if he read her mind, Kirigan takes a step closer….and then another one. She can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind. 

What does he see when he looks at her? 

How does she look in his eyes, because the way he’s looking at her now is taking her breath away?

He looks at her as if there is something worth looking at.

“Sometimes my mind turns on me”, he admits in a low, quiet tone that Y/N has to strain to hear him properly. “I’ve lived a long life and a longer one awaits me. My mind is full of ghosts that want retribution for what I did to them.”

Swallowing thickly, she straightens her back as she comes closer – close enough to feel his breath as it fans the hair at the top of her head.

“What did you do to them?”

The left corner of his lips twitches. “You’d think ill of me if I told you.”

Averting her gaze to his bare chest revealed by the wind as it pulled the fabric of his shirt, Y/N licks her lips. She argues with herself on her next move, wondering if it would be improper to touch the man who had been considered untouchable by everyone she ever met. Her fingers years to feel his skin under their tips, to slowly trail the jawline she wants to press her lips against.

Frowning softly, she bites her lower lip as she locks her eyes on his dark ones. Unlike many before her, she does not crumble under the weight of his heavy gaze. Her heart trembles as she reaches out and places her palm on his chest.

He didn’t expect her to touch him, tensing up. It’s surprising how warm her hand is, more so how inviting the warmth is. He’s hyper-aware of every breath he takes as his chest expands under her touch, hoping this incredibly brazen Grisha does not feel the way his heart jumps with the sudden surge of her bravery.

When he notices her lips move, he holds his breath as if the simple act of breathing could muffle her voice and make it harder for him to soak up the blind loyalty and love she holds for him.

“Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two different things. You’re not evil for choosing to protect yourself and your country. I could never think badly of you, General.”

It’s been a long time since he found someone so incredibly devoted to him and his cause, exhilarating him to the core. Alina had never truly believed in him for she always considered him wicked, but Y/N couldn’t be more different. Perhaps he’s right and this time it will work. 

With someone trusting as Y/N is, he can’t possibly fail again.

Letting her hand fall, Y/N looks away as she realizes she crossed the line and his silence is the easiest way for him to inform her of it. Truth be told, she wondered who was the last woman who got to lay her hand on his chest.

Was it Alina?

There were rumors of the relationship Kirigan and Alina supposedly had and Y/N always felt a pang of jealousy upon hearing the girls talk. She never knew him, she never truly had him and she never will, but the idea someone else does brought her pain.

Perhaps her overthinking or the increasingly awkward silence prompted her temper to speak instead of her brain.

"Did you love her?" Y/N blurts out. 

Her eyes widen as she realizes her thoughts have become vocal and in the presence of the very man she should be watching her mouth around.

"I apologize. It must be a difficult time to reminisce about." Maybe Nina was right – she is stupid!

"It is quite alright.” Darkling lets out an audibly heavy breath. “I did not love her, I trusted her. I trusted her enough to put all my hope for a better Ravka on her shoulders and she betrayed our country."

"No", she reaches out slowly, her hand finding its way to his as it gingerly grasps his fingers. "She betrayed you."

Smiling reluctantly, Kirigan finds himself wondering if he should embrace the fact Y/N seems to be a very touchy person or if he should set some boundaries. Despite the shiver that runs down his spine, he allows her hand to fully take his as he closes his fingers around hers.

"I should have seen it coming. I'm far too used to betrayal."

"I'd never do that", she pauses. "I'd never betray you. I'd never break your trust."

Her responses are quick, so innocent and naïve that he can’t help but feel guilty about every moment he spends near her. No one should send a doe eyed beauty into the clutches of a beast so easily, yet he has no desire to force her to leave.

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

Smiling, her entire face lights up. It’s a true delight to witness so early in the morning after a long night of nightmares he faced.

“Do not worry, General. I have every intention on proving myself to you.”

Glancing at their hands, her smile widens. She spent years wishing for this and now that it’s happening she can’t seem to believe it’s real.

“The sun will come up soon”, he changes the topic.

Y/N fears he might leave and her hand would be back at her side as she watches his retreating figure, but when he speaks again her heart dances in her chest.

“Would you like to watch the sunrise with me?”

Inhaling sharply, she nods. “Very much so.”

Unfortunately for them, someone else couldn’t sleep that night and they had seen just enough for a terrible plan to be born.

=================================

A/N - So, I’m definitely going to play with the books here and twist some things to fit the storyline I have in mind. There might be some spoilers, so read with caution. I debated on making more than a one shot for this and taking on some ideas I have for Darkling but also Nikolai, so I’m not sure how long this will be just yet. 

Tags: @deceivedeer​ @evyiione​ @measshaw​

Part 3

[legguk]

Hi!! So,

it's my ( literal ) first time writing fanfiction, so I'm pretty new at this stuff, but Lady Dimitrescu is all I was able to think about for weeks and I >needed< to do something about it.

( If you want some context, I wrote this thinking “what if Alcina survived?” - Alcina's pov )

———

The fall,

The end of everything you once loved

Ethan Winters.

You woke up... somehow, you woke up. The frigid air hitting your fresh wounds felt like a jolt send by reality, as if one says "you're still alive" -

- and oh how you were starting to hate that feeling.

Laying on the demolished floor of your castle, muscles twitching in pain, mouth open gasping for air... that's how you are, how you will remember yourself from now on. A defeated dragon, a crushed woman, a dead mother.

You should get up, you should let go of your carcass and crawl your way back into the warmth of your home, you should—

—you should be dead, actually. Resting on death's cold embrace along with your daughters.

Daughters.

God, your daughters.

The memories flood your mind with a painful, unbearable reminder; they're gone, dead, crystalized - gone. They're gone. Your lovely daughters, your pride and joy, the main reason you'd open up your eyes in the morning...

...Bela,

Cassandra,

Daniela....

Their names are long cold, not yet forgotten - no, never forgotten - but somewhere else, as they don't belong here anymore; not on your arms, tucking them to bed. Not on your hands, caressing their faces. Not on your lips, kissing their foreheads. Not on your tongue, as you say them.

A raspy scream leaves your throat, it sounds disturbing.

You sob, hot tears trailing down your cheeks and neck, small cries for help find their way into the wind, disappearing with less importance then when they materialized.

You cannot recall for how long you stayed at that very same position, perhaps some hours, perhaps a day, but you are certain that at some point you were overcame by tiredness and collapsed - probably the best to do for now.

xxx

And so, rises the moon and the stars watch upon your limp body, the night howling a merciful wind and singing a melodic song. Grunting, you push yourself up with your elbows, sitting up and facing the sky through the hole you've made on the roof... and the levels above...

A huge carcass sits besides you, it's wings bended on itself and it's big mouth open to whoever would like to have a peek; you probably changed back into your normal body while unconscious... Now that you can see it clearly, you notice the damage that man-thing did to you... by heavens, how were you still alive and...

Oh. The castle. You look forward, taking in the horizon - the stars look exclusively shiny tonight - you breath in, the dusty air causes you to chough a few times. Stretching your neck a bit to see your whole house, you tell yourself it looks.. fine, actually, ignoring the broken windows. The broken windows.

It's cold. You shiver harshly, panting as the air meets your bare back and rumbles through your lungs, making you hug yourself, - you're naked, you just realized - the winter in Romania is truly kind to no one.

Your legs tremble with just the thought of trying to stand on your feet. You don't rush to do it either, let the wintry breeze take in your wounds, make it sting, burn it, freeze it; freeze your body along.

“To die. To die is to live. To live without them, that's torture. To live without their presence, absent of their scents, to not hear them, nor see their faces again, that's worse than death; far, far worse. How could I ever walk into that damned house without the heavenly sounds of their laughs, the tapping of their feet as they walk free, the steadiness of their heartbeats, reminding me that my own still beats.

Beats for them. For them only.

And they're gone.

So who shall my heart beat for? Myself? No, that wouldn't do. I will rip it out from my chest if I must, sacrifice it to any god who may hear me, all so I could spend five more minutes with them. Then I'd die in peace and find them at my arms again at whatever comes after this poor life.

But I'm here.”

You still hold yourself as you stare at a castle's - broken - window, new warm tears hanging the same trail the old and now dry ones did, a silent cry.

Your intrusive thoughts were abruptly cut by a loud noise from the inside of the castle, making you jump up, gathering all your last strengths to stand and walk a few shaky steps closer to home. The more you walked, the louder the noises got; a little rustle became a bang, and your tiptoing became a sprint, you hold yourself as tight as you can, ignoring the bleeding, the cold air spiking your lungs, how insanely fast you heartbeat was. You need to get there, protect the last remnant of them you still have.

The gates felt heavy now, even for you, who would open them with one hand. Where is your strength now? The fearless dragon who'd do anything to protect her house? Perhaps she died on that fall, and now all there's left is a shadow of what you were one day.

With much pain, you open the big doors, leading to the comfort of your house; you don't get in, you throw yourself in. The warm atmosphere engulfed you like a summer kiss on a winter storm, all you needed to ground yourself to reality for now. Grabbing some sheets laying over an old counter, you wrap yourself in it – oh, that's gonna get soaked in blood, but that's not of your concern now – moving incredibly fast for someone as hurt as yourself, you follow the continuous sounds that could not mean something good. The main doors are open, the cellar is unlocked as well, that idiotic man-thing couldn't even close the doors once he finished slaughtering your home? Imbecile.

You stand at the library's door now, suddenly frozen; you know what happened in there... do you really want to get in? Are you truly ready to face it again? Maybe you should take a step back and walk away, it would be the most logical decision to take now.

But what is logic when the heart screams? What is the brain for once your emotions take the best of you? You can't walk away. Put some honor on your name. Save the last bit of your daughter that fate is still conceiving you. Your chest rises and falls completely out of coordination, your fists close around the fabric involving your body; get ready, you're going in; gather the last bit of courage you have inside yourself and blast these doors.

And so you do.

You bring those pieces of wood to the ground, the only barrier between you and the reality you couldn't accept; a guttural growl forms in your chest as you see a lycan approach your child's crystalized body; you're blind with ire, sorrow, protectorship - you name it - and it makes you shout at the top of your lungs as you dilacerate the filthy beasts you'd bat your eye at. A bloody trail of corpses marks your way through the castle grounds, your claws dripping with fresh sanguine fluid - which you can't tell if it's from the creatures or from yourself - the crimson path follows you all the way to the other wing of mansion like a spirit who must haunt you for eternity.

You scream like a feral animal, blood soaking the once white cloth around your form; the scream becomes a shriek, which descends to a yelp, ending as a furious cry. You can feel the anger leaving you, like the waters of a waterfall; explosive, big portions of water falling into a numb, deaden lake. Hopefully those waters will carry you with them, you shall fall and sink at a anesthetizing lagoon.

You kneel, eyes closed, eyebrows frowned; a loud sigh fills the deafening silence in the air, your mind is blank – better, your mind is red, scarlet red mixed with black, ire and grief. Slowly, your head lower itself so you're facing the floor.

The big Lady Dimitrescu,

kneeling on a pool of blood, defeated.

•

“Lady Dimitrescu!”

Who..? The voice was so far yet so close, you try your best to focus on the direction of the calls but your nerves just won't cooperate.

“Lady!”

Who would be calling for you? Is your mind playing tricks on you now? And since when you were laying on the floor? Too many questions for too little answers. You try to stand up, but a sharp pain on your side made you cry out and fall on your back, face knotted in pain – perhaps your adrenaline rush was keeping you from feeling what was really happening with your body, and now you feel like you're betraying yourself for that.

A small figure approaches you in a fast pace, causing you to unleash your claws one more time and snarl at the not-so-possible threat; you were hurt. Vulnerable. Letting someone close was the last thing you wanted now. The humanoid thing backs away a few steps with your aggressive reaction, hands on their chest, visibly afraid – even though your vision is quite blurry, you identify their expression: scared, desperate, sorrowful – they call out once more, almost shouting.

“Please, Lady Dimitrescu, let me help!”

Ah... Help... The now clearer feminine voice washes over you - a wave of compassion - as if hope has found its way to your house again. Well, it better go away again, or you'll drag it out yourself.

“Out.” was all that left your lips, your intense gaze locking with hers, a silent yet not so discrete warning; although you had only said one word, it was well understood by the woman, who stepped away, eyes still meeting yours, a dreadful cast hang on her face.

Still, she didn't left.

Is that girl testing her luck? It can only be. Once again you warn her: “Leave. I will not repeat myself.”

Her posture stiffens, after a moment of silence she looks at the door, truly wondering about leaving or not; her body turns around, her knuckles going white from how hard she was grabbing the fabric on her chest – she's conflicted. But why? Who is she, after all? – A long, defeated sigh leaves her, as if she knows there is no choice left.

“Allow me to help.” A failed effort on trying to sound confident; her voice is full of tears and her tone is oscillating – it makes you wonder if she has been crying – The human walks towards you, trying not to make any eye contact; you can't stand on your feet, you left hand is pressed on your injured side, the other is open and directing your now extended nails towards her.

Oh how funny it is, no?

The predator being cornered by the prey. The dragon being trapped by the rabbit. How ridiculous it is.

Her extremely shaky hands hang in front of her, trying to say she won't hurt you – oh if she only knew it's going to be the other way round. – One step closer.. Her lips and chin tremble; Another. Your claws grow bigger, eyes peering through her soul; another step, your eyebrows frown, her eyes are teary. The last step - your blood is boiling hot, your nerves on edge; you are still the predator. - a slicing sound and a half-scream saturate the air for a millisecond, just for silence to overfill it once more. Red splashes over the room again, on your face, on your chest, but mostly on the floor, where the girl was thrown at.

An agonizing scream leaves her throat - what a miracle, she remains alive - both of her hands cover her face, blood spilling all over her; what a sight, you would most definitely enjoy this very much on another situation. She cries out in despair, making you face the ceiling and close your eyes, a tired look on your face – you just want all this to end, you don't have any more patience for this. You want to crawl back into your bed and starve, you want to destroy this place, make it abandoned ruins of what one day was a home; you want to kill that damned sickening man-thing, kill this foolish girl for perturbing your grieving, and then yourself.

The woman captures your attention once again, she is kneeling, her body facing yours, her right hand presses her ripped face, the other makes its slow way up to you, although she is trembling, she manages to keep her hand steady enough to hand you a little green flask with a yellow-y label; You look closer, 'treatment disinfectant' it says... Oh you can only be joking. You feel like slaughtering the girl right this instant, but takes in a deep breath and holds the flask, her hand immediately falling along with her body. Is she dead? No, her slow yet consistent breathing exclaims that she is still alive – you honestly find it a bit offensive – You should, but you cannot bring yourself to finish the human; you should end her suffering, but now she caught your attention; and besides, she wants to help, doesn't she? then the price she'll pay is staying alive.

———

hahaaa I'm so nervous about posting this,,, ,

and yes! It is a alcina x maiden fic! I do plan it to be slow burn, and if some you liked it and read it till here, please like and/or reblog and I'll post chapter 2!

( posted on Ao3! Name: “The woman in your castle” )

( chapter 2 posted!! )