#no one anyone cares about dies nothing lasting happens to anyone

[nightingale-prompts]

Saving Batboy

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It was as though he was being led through the city. Dick seemed to know exactly where he should go next as he drove.

Dick turned off his location as he closed in on Joker's location. If anyone had doubts about what would happen tonight they knew now. The clown dies tonight.

Batman never did it because he knew there would be no coming back once he crossed that line but he was not Batman.

Tim knew the moment Nightwing's symbol disappeared that he had found Joker's location. He knew he could track him still based on where he was before but he held off. The last time Dick crossed the line and killed the Joker, Tim was there to stop him. In the time since Tim had grown to regret it. Especially after Jason's return. He should be avenged after everything that happened.

Tim never put much thought into what happened when he was kidnapped just like Danny. Joker Jr was just a nightmare and everyone pretends it didn't happen. His past self doesn't exist to him and the gaps in his memory are better as they are.

If Dick was really going to finish this then Tim wasn't going to stop him. Bruce's code was his code alone. What of the Robins that suffer for it? What about his kids that he loves to the point of self-destruction if they die?

It was clear to Tim now. Batman isn't strong enough to kill Joker. If he can't handle it, someone else would.

Maybe Dick just cared more. Or maybe he had seen this happen too many times to sit by and let it happen again. The cost be damned.

Tim took a deep breath. He knew it was a bad move but he shut down the bat computer. No one could locate each other for the next 10 minutes. Enough time to give Dick the lead he really needs. All the comms are down and no information can be shared.

Tim looked up and saw Alfred putting down a cup of tea for him. Tim felt like a child caught doing something wrong under Alfred. But Alfred nodded wordlessly before turning to leave. He cast a forlorn glance at Jason's robin uniform before ascending the stairs.

****

"I was hoping Batman would come for the little bat. Oh sorry, I mean the boy." Joker mocked holding Danny by the back of the neck.

The teen's body was limp. His silver locks stained a rusty brown from dried blood. Blood covered his back and legs. If there had been any doubt if the wings were real there is none now.

"…" Nightwingwing said nothing. His fist clenched.

"You know I debated skinning him next. That fur of his would be a lovely shawl. It's so soft. But it looks like I won't have the time now." Joker provoked, running a hand through the boy's white neck fur.

"Get your hands off him." Nightwing demanded, his eyes locked on Danny for any signs of life.

"You know I am so curious what he was doing here. I was about to build a new trap here for fun when I stumbled upon this little guy here. Practically gift-wrapped. Did he run away from you? Just like you did from good ol'papa bat." Joker's smile widened sickeningly "This all feels so familiar, doesn't it little bird? Are you going to finish what you started?"

"I'm never letting you hurt my family again." No witty one-liners. No games. This bad joke ends today.

****

Batman had scoured the area. He memorize the last location Dick was before the system went down. He wasn't these kids' father for nothing he knew what they were doing.

When sound came back he had already made it to the abandoned factory. The comms rang back to life as the sounds of crying came through.

"Nononono…please no. Wake up. Please wake up." It was Dick's voice. "It's okay. I'm here now. So just wake up. We need to get home soon. Your favorite show will be on soon. WAKE UP! YOU CAN'T DIE!"

Batman bolted to their location and found Dick hovering over Danny trying to resuscitate him.

His son looked at him with pleading eyes.

"I can't hear his heart. He's not breathing." He let out a shaky breath. As distressed tears ran down his cheeks.

Bruce knelt next to them. Danny didn't react to the pressure on his chest. The pain should have at least caused an involuntary jerk if he wasn't too far gone.

Bruce signaled Dick to move back as he checked Danny's pulse again. Nothing. And he wasn't breathing. Bruce looked at his son. Deep down Dick probably knew.

"I'm sorry. He's gone." Bruce said simply as he took off his cloak.

Danny looked so peaceful. Like he was sleeping soundly. Bruce hated that his own suspension had been the thing that had prevented him from having a relationship with his own grandson. He felt foolish to not realize that of course Danny and Batboy were the same. It was a brilliant disguise. But he'd never get to say this to the boy.

Bruce wrapped the boy in his cloak.

"Come on. We'll fix this." He told Dick, carrying Danny for him.

The journey back to the manor was silent until.

"I'm sorry." Bruce said.

"Don't. Just Don't. He's my son. Its my fault." Dick rasped his voice scratchy from crying.

Bruce felt a bitter sting. That was exactly what he felt when he lost Jason and what happened with Tim. When Damian lost his life. These pains didn't go away.

When they arrived back in the Batcave Bruce laid Danny's body on the table. The others were notified about what happened and had already gathered.

Barbara looked like she had bawled her eyes out as she hugged Stephanie.

Damian had pressed himself close to Tim as the older brother told him that it was going to be okay.

The new hole in the wall was clearly Jason if his bloodied knuckles were any clues.

Cassandra paced the floor deep in thought. She was moments away from starting a new crusade.

Duke stared off into the distance. His anger boiling under the surface. All he could think about was the number of lives ruined by the Joker and even in death he took another.

Dick stood still as a statue. Thinking about if Danny could be brought back and even if he was his wings were gone. What if he was gone for good? Could he live like that?

Never had he understood Bruce more than in that moment.

Bruce braced himself for what would come next. He had a plan to bring Danny back at any cost.

But suddenly a sound broke through the tension.

A sneeze.

A fucking sneeze.

It came up from under the cloak.

Everyone snapped to look at the body hidden under the cloak. It shifted under the heavy black blanket groggily and yawned. Then Danny jumped up twisting to feel his back.

"What happened!!" He yelped.

[theawkwardterrier]

WIP Sunday

Tagged so very kindly by my wonderful meme bestie @lavellenchanted 🥰🥰 Here's a bit of the OL fic that I've been working on and that I'm mad about working on!

“Now that we’ve established my credentials, are you comfortable removing your shirt, soldier?” she asks, finding it easy to fall into the manner of address that saw her so well through the war. He lifts an eyebrow at the term, but doesn’t comment. “Aye, I trust my tender self to yer ministrations, Mistress, if that’s what ye mean. But I might need a bit o’ help with my shirt.” His good hand gestures to his opposite shoulder, and his smile is fading along with the light which had entered his eyes. There are plenty of patients she’s had who would have done better with a response that was stern and reminded him that he didn’t need mollycoddling, or with joking about to chivvy him from the mood he was sinking into. But some instinct, beyond the knowledge that she has built from experience, makes her do something else entirely. “Take your time,” she says gently. “I’ll help where it’s needed.” He does manage to bare himself most of the way, and not altogether terribly slowly. The trouble comes, as they both knew it would, with his injured arm. His mobility is such that he cannot twist his arm to reach up and remove that sleeve; perhaps at night he shakes it off, or has a comrade who will help him, but he doesn’t seem interested in putting himself on display in that way, and she doesn’t want him to. Instead, as he stops with the shirt draped over half his body, she makes her way around him, making certain that he can hear her movements, that she touches him gently along the back of his neck first so he can sense where she will be aiming next since she isn’t certain whether he has full feeling in his shoulder and doesn’t want to startle him. She doesn’t say anything as she eases the sleeve away from his skin, no small talk or even evaluatory questions, nothing about his shoulder or the deep scarring that she finds across his back. Jamie, however, speaks without her having to ask. It’s a terrible story, despite the calm with which he tells it: a Redcoat captain, an attack on Jamie’s sister, a crowd which watched him being viciously whipped for crimes that he hadn’t committed — including his father, who died thinking that his son had died first, and in such pain. During the war, she saw other nurses grow attached to patients, staying at a certain bedside hours after their shift had ended, singing a favorite song to dull the pain, even placing a kiss on lips breathing their last. Nothing close ever happened to her; not, she thinks now, necessarily because of Frank, but because she was better able to wall herself off and keep from true connection with the soldiers and partisans and innocent civilians who she treated…or maybe because none of them was the right one. For a barely-breathing moment, she can imagine bending and laying her cheek against the scars, letting him know that while she might have not been there to heal him then, she is here now. Beneath layers of fabric and padding, her stomach rumbles — only hunger, to be certain, signaling the hours since she finished the last of Nan’s bannocks in the cart, but a reminder of the care that she needs to take now. No foolish mistakes, not when she isn’t only protecting herself. “And how did this come about?” she asks, placing a delicate finger on the raised arch of his shoulder joint. As much as she is striving to bring herself back to that vaunted professionalism, her voice is still soft.

Tagging my buds @flyinghome-againstthewind, @smashing-teacups, @frasers-of-my-heart, and @doctorhelena, plus anyone else who wants to share some WIP fun!

[bicheetopuff]

By the end of the story, I stopped being a bkdk shipper because Hori made it seem so one-sided on Bakugo's side. Does Izuku even care about him or think about him by the end of the story? He seemed to care more for Ochako and even Iida. Meanwhile Bakugo and Izuku didn't even have an actual resolution on anything, never had a decent reciprocated convo and Izuku doesn't even acknowledge anything Bakugo did. In the last chapter, he becomes a very passive character. He doesnt even try to be a hero until the class hands him the suit. He doesnt even have on screen convos with anyone besides AM. Hori's writing was so weak for his character and relationships with others at the end.

I’m sorry you felt that way, I guess? They had a resolution, and I honestly think it was the best one in the series because Hori didn’t have to outright explain it in text for it to have the emotional impact it had.

Their whole thing was fixing their relationship and learning to become heroes who save and win simultaneously, instead of one or the other. Which they did, in narrative terms.

Also things don’t have to be said out loud to just be understood/implied. Deku watching Katsuki cry with tears in his eyes is a sign of care. The way he reacted to seeing Katsuki’s body is a sign of care. Shigaraki calling Katsuki the closest person to him, is proof that people in the story can see their relationship through implication just fine. Also, does the cover to volume 37 just mean nothing?

All of those implications, plus the other implication that Izuku doesn’t like thinking about how he feels when it comes to Katsuki, nor does he like acknowledging it unless he absolutely he has to. It’s not a writing flaw on horikoshis part, it’s an intentional character flaw that never showed signs of having development, because its development wouldn’t have been important to the overall story. It’s just something we’re supposed to notice and it’s made decently obvious that this is the case considering DvK2 and his vigilante arc, the latter especially.

When Katsuki being stabbed actually happened, you can tell it affected Izuku way more than Aizawa and Torinos injuries and he literally almost died cuz of his reaction to it, yet he pushes it to the back of his mind when he leaves UA after writing a letter to Katsuki that was different than everyone else’s. Or after Katsuki apologized, we get no internal thoughts about him like we did for the rest of the class when the retrieval arc happened, yet Izuku ends up stumbling and falling into Katsuki’s arms as opposed to literally anyone else’s. Not to mentions the fourth episode of the memories recap in the anime, solidifying this theory by giving him PTSD about Katsuki being stabbed. Also:

It’s said in text… “…somewhere deep inside…” meaning it’s intentionally not on the forefront of his mind. Also I think the 1:1 translation to this scene, he described his feelings as “gross,” meaning he’s somewhat ashamed of them.

Also is Izuku supposed to just not care about his other friends? Iida and Ochako were literally his first real friends, of course Hori is gonna highlight them in the end.

Izuku is passive in the end, because he’s always been a passive character. It’s just apart of his personality. And he doesn’t try to be a hero for several years, because wtf is he supposed to do? In the society they live in, you really can’t fight criminals without a quirk unless you fight hand to hand, which won’t work against people with quirks who don’t care about fighting fair. It’s not like he could’ve gotten his own suit on a teachers salary. He doesn’t try because he just accepts and appreciates that it was a short lived dream that he got the chance to actually live.

There’s less focus on Izuku’s development and his relationships with the people around him, because Izuku’s the only character that didn’t “need” development because he’s already a “perfect hero” by Japanese standards. He’s kind, driven, respectful, and sacrificial. The only development he has and needed for the sake of the story was trying to be more confident in himself, and letting himself accept help from others. Everything other flaw, is purely personal to him. Other characters bring up his flaws to him in the story, but no one can make him consider changing those flaws except for him, because those flaws only affect him, and his biggest flaw is that he literally does not take himself into account for anything. He doesn’t care about making himself happy. It is literally purposeful.

Now, I think the epilogue in general was just rushed and I do wish he was able to having meaningful conversations with more characters, like todoroki and his mother, but I don’t think those open doors lessened the integrity of the entire frame. I do wish he had a conversation with Katsuki, but I also understand that it wasn’t really needed either. It’s not a slice of life, after all. The only thing I think we didn’t get the best conclusion on, is bkdks handhold.

Also saying Izuku doesn’t care about Katsuki is such a weird take ajdnejdn

THAT. IS. SO. FUNNY!!

[lostandbackagain]

theory that dustfinger spent half of the book unconscious not because of whatever the hell orpheus did but because he concussed himself

[cherrymoonvol6]

.

[godblooded]

found a letter i wrote to my mother when i was about thirteen. number one: make it more obvious that i have no self-esteem and never have considering the letter starts with ‘i know i am a difficult child to raise’. number two: the whole letter is me talking about how much i admired and thought she was inspirational for having gotten a dream job she loved so much; about how she was doing an amazing job as a single parent. the kicker is i did this because every year i hoped if I said all these things to her maybe at one point she would seriously believe them. maybe at one point i could hope enough for the both of us and it would work. maybe one day all my encouragement and optimism would work, and we’d be what i wanted us to be to each other. she would be confident and loving and see her own successes and i would have a mother who finally understood the things she accomplished instead of always dwelling on her failures.

mostly i read that letter and now all i can do is cry because i keep asking myself, where did that person go, and how do i get them back?

[bluetimeombre]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either.

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[this is long. i'm talking 5k words long so i've split it into two parts. anyway, azriel is the best bat boy and no i won't hear anyone out. i'm so excited to write for him and hope you enjoy. it's very angsty but that's what i love. i hope i can write more for him and maybe other characters if you like. it's been a while since i've actually read the series so if any information is wrong, do let me know. also it was my first time using the term y/n and yes, i cringed NOT PROOF READ... enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

Part 2 soon…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first, was the worst...

You were Rhys's half sister, the bastard daughter of his father. But when your mother had died giving birth to you, Rhysand's mother took you in and raised you with your brother and sister. You were so little and adorable that your sister loved you at once. Rhys did to, at some point of your life, you were sure he actually cared about you.

But when his mother and sister had died, his eyes shifted, he started to look at you with contempt. After all, you were only his half-sister. The worst half. He only kept you around because it's what his mother would have wanted.

And because there was no way Cassian and Azriel would ever let anything happen to you.

Besides, Rhysand knew when to use you.

Although Azriel was his spymaster, you were pretty good at staying swift-footed too. And you were frankly, very terrifying when you wanted to be.

You tread with power through the war camps, all of them looking at you as you went. All of their gazes wrecked with a predatory gaze. They either wanted to have their way with you, or kill you. Or both.

Rhys had said you could handle it, it was only supposed to be a check in. Cassian hadn't liked it, neither had Mor but it was Azriel who had almost- and for the first time- disobeyed his high lord to accompany you. But no, your brother wanted you to do this alone, so alone you would.

Just to show him you could.

'I can come with you,' Azriel had said, standing in your room as you tied your boots up. 'I won't even have to be seen.' At that, his shadows wrapped up your calf.

You smiled at them, as if they were his own pet. 'I'll manage just fine. Besides, i'm sure that's what Rhys wants, me needing a man.'

It had done nothing to calm your friend. The worry was still stuck between his brows, marring his handsome features. You'd held his cheeks, your wings hiding the two of you. His large ones (enough to swallow the both of you) over-lapped yours.

It was the last time you'd feel your wings.

The war camp wasn't as easy as you'd hoped. It was terror and horror in a place. You'd been to the court of nightmares, you'd gone to the slaughter of the spring court after they killed your family. But this, this was hell of another kind.

You had no idea how many days you'd been locked up, wrists bound in chains and hanging from the cell roof above you. Blood rolled down your arms from the force you'd tried to use to get them out. Your eye was swollen shut and your body trembled in pain.

All because they wanted to know your brothers secrets, and you wouldn't budge.

Your check was only supposed to be a day, but you were sure it had been longer. Days of endless pain and torture. Your uniform hung in rags of stripped material, your hair matted with blood and hiding your face.

You'd used the last of your energy to keep your walls up. You weren't anyone's mate, you didn't have anyone on the other end trying to feel what you felt. But should Rhys come looking (though you doubted it) you didn't want him to feel it. You didn't want anyone in your mind.

The gates opened with a sickening clash.

One of the Illyrian's knelt in front of you, his wings hiding those coming in behind you. 'Listen sweetheart. I don't want to make this any harder than it's about to get. All you have to do is tell us your brother's hide outs.'

You grit your teeth, staring down at the ground.

'So loyal, to a man who doesn't care if you live or die.'

Suddenly, your wings twitched as hands grasped them. Brute hands, the sort you wouldn't want touching any part of you.

Fear spiked in you, horror twisting your gut. 'What are you doing?'

'I told you I didn't want to get things messier, darling.'

You whipped your head from side to side, trying and failing to get a look at the assailants behind you. Your wings were being held apart, no matter how hard you tried to bat them away. You knew the sort of people they were, and what they did to girls like you.

That's when the begging started. 'No, no please. Anything. I'll do anything! Beat me, kill me, rape me, not my wings, please!'

'Anything?' the bastard asked, tongue poking out from his lips. 'Then tell me where your lord's hideouts are?'

You should betray him, you thought. He would never lose his wings for you. Perhaps it was stubbornness that kept you from, or maybe you were clinging to the last bit of love you want from him.

The bastard scoffed, 'anything, she says. Your brother has his own bitch wrapped around his finger.'

That's when they started hacking at your wings.

Your screams tore through your throat, blood spitting and dripping down your chin. Tears soon joined when they hacked away at the bone, the membrane, the flesh of it all. The three of them worked through your screams and your tears and your pain, tearing and cutting at it like it was nothing more than paper.

Not your whole life.

Let them hear you. You hoped your brother heard you, you hoped all and every court heard the pain.

Eventually, even you couldn't keep screaming. The only sound was the hacking away at your wings and the drops of blood.

'Now look at these beauties. I've got a perfect spot on my wall for these.'

They left you after that. There wasn't much more damage they could do. It already felt like they'd destroyed your life. You had never really thought about your wings, they were just part of you, as much as your wit or hair was. But they'd took it and now, you felt empty. Never would you fly with Azriel again, or use your wings to smack Cassian over the head.

Rhys, your dear brother, had took that from you.

The days blended in together after that. You were pooled in your own tears and blood, vomiting up anything they forced down your throat. No, they'd made it very clear they didn't want you dead. They just took pride in making it feel like you were.

At some point, you'd stopped reacting to the gate opening. You let them do whatever they wanted with you. Your wrists were still chained, arms still hanging up, your clothes hanging on your thin body in strips of dirt.

'No...' you heard a mumble. 'What have they done to you?'

Suddenly, the chains gave way and you lurched forward, with no strength to catch you. Luckily, you didn't have to, as strong and warm arms pulled you into his chest.

'Hey, wake up, look at me, dammit.'

Azriel.

You'd know the voice in the darkest days, in the pit of your worst nightmare you'd know.

You try to speak but your head's heavy, your lips are stone and your arms can't lift to hold onto him. You're exhausted, you're dying. The only thing you could do use all your strength to try to open your eyes.

'Please, please, look at me. You have to look at me,'

You were trying, you wanted to tell hm, snap at him, but you couldn't.

You felt Azriel shake, or maybe you were. Then, there was wet drops landing on your cheeks- you flinched.

'I'm sorry, i'm sorry. Rhys! Rhys! hurry up, please!' he was screaming. You'd never heard him scream before.

You heard the rush of feet at the cell doors, you knew it was your brother. You knew it from the presence of him, from the shuffling of feet and chocked sob. Your brother didn't cry, least of all for you.

'Her wings, oh mother, her wings,' said Azriel, his voice barley above that of a whisper.

Your wings. You didn't need reminding. They were gone, long and far gone. You were without a part of you, the very part of your soul that loved to be free. Never would you watch the stars up close or fly over everyone. Never race Cassian or make jokes with Az.

No, this would destroy you.

'y/n,' your half-brother called. 'No, y/n. Can you hear me?'

Your lips parted, mumbling. 'Hurts.'

Azriel's grip on you tightened. 'I know, we're gonna get you out of here, just hold on for me.'

You wanted to tell him you would hold on, you'd always need to hold on to him. That, no matter what he asks, you'd do it. To kill, to live, to breathe, to die.

And that's when it clicked. Amongst all the pain and the doubt. In your blood soaked clothes. In the fear you wouldn't make it, there was a tug. Weak and one-sided, but there. You knew you'd be safe with Azriel, knew you would always be with him.

Mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The pain subsided to a dull ache, there and beating but not excruciating. You were warm and covered in a soft material. Nothing like the cell you'd been kept in. Your fingertips sunk into something soft- a bed. Your bed. It was familiar in its lavender scent to you and the silk wrapped around you gave you some semblance of warmth.

Your wings.

Even coming to consciousness was difficult. You were exhausted but light, without the weight of wings holding you down. You'd never realised how much you needed to feel that weight, to feel pulled down in order to be free.

Gone, all gone.

Your hand twitches around something cold, a shadow holding your hand, creeping up your side.

'You're awake, thank the couldron.'

It wasn't Azriel, master of the shadows. It wasn't your mate. Mate. The word replayed like a terrible song in your mind.

How dare the mother do this to Az. How dare he- nothing but loyal and kind- get stuck with a person made in darkness, who bled shadows, who's heart was so full of hate there wasn't room for love. They'd cursed Az, with you.

But luckily it wasn't him, it was Rhysand.

'It really happened,' you whispered, voice hurting from the screams.

He sighed. 'I'm sorry, i'm so sorry. We-we thought you weren't going to make it, you'd lost so much blood.'

In spite of the pain in your shoulders, you made a shift, turning from him as he ranted on about your condition.

'y/n... sister, please,' he said. He'd never called you sister before. He'd always been content to treat you just like you worked for him.

'Leave me alone.' you couldn't bare to look at him, couldn't bare to face him. The shadows at your hand grew heavier, as if more were piling on. You stretched your fingers away from them, trying to get them off you.

'Are you in any pain?' asked Rhys.

'Get out,' you mumbled.

The end of your bed dipped where Rhys settled, hand splayed on the covers, begging for your hand. 'y/n.'

'Get out!' you snapped, body tense and straining. You felt your wounds open up, blood wetting the bandage around you. But you didn't care. You'd happily bleed if you couldn't fly. A part of you, sick part of you wanted to be left there. It would be better than false sympathy.

Be better than your mate being disgusted.

'Get out!' you yelled again, voice tearing through an aching throat.

'I just want to help you! please, let me help you!' said Rhys, standing from your bed and walking around, trying to face you.

'I don't want your help!' you screamed. You reached for the closest thing you could, a jug of water and chucked it toward him. You aim was terrible, marred with pain and exhaustion. 'Get out!'

Though hesitant, Rhysand slowly started walking back to your door. He did it all looking at you, his hands out to show he wasn't gonna hurt you, but you didn't care. You went for the glasses next and chucked them but they landed against the door which he disappeared through.

Before it slid close you caught sight of Cassian , Mor and Azriel. All crowded, all waiting to see you.

You'd be happy if you never let them see you again.

'Can we see her?' you hear Mor ask.

'Give her time,' said Rhys.

The shadows at your hand grew heavier, darker, tighter.

'Go away!' you yelled at them. To anyone else, you probably looked crazy, screaming to darkness. But the shadows understood. They departed, slithering away and under the crack of your door where you could see the shadows of feet.

Tumbling from bed, you stumbled over and locked the door, leaning on it to and catching your breath. Your nightgown was starting to get sticky with blood all over again. When you closed your eyes, you pictured the cell, the rough hands holding you down, the chain keeping you up.

And the pain, it all washed over you. The hacking at your back, the sting of a slap. It hit you like a tone of bricks as you slid to the floor.

There was a knock, rattling the door.

'y/n,' Cassian. 'Please let us in.'

Us. You felt him on the other side. Your mate, his presence lingering. His shadows under the door, wanting to come in but keeping their distance.

He didn't know. It hadn't snapped for him, you could tell. It was one tug on your end, a chord in your heart. At least he couldn't feel what you did. At least you could shoulder it alone.

'Please.' his voice was almost your un-doing. He sounded so sad, so desperate. It hurt you just to think you were hurting him.

Tears streamed down your face as your curled your fingers into a tight fist. You assumed Mor had left with Rhys, leaving you there with the males.

Cass was always like a brother to you. Granted- a brother you had slept with once or twice- but he was your best friend. You'd always been close to him. But you'd always been good, a happy person.

You couldn't be that for them now, perhaps ever again.

It lasted like that for hours. Cassian and Az begging to come in, you curling into a ball with tears down your cheeks and blood down your back.

Eventually, they gave up. You couldn't hear them anymore and the shadows of their boots had disappeared.

Except Azriel's shadows that still lingered under your door. Maybe he'd ordered them to be there while they left you.

Eventually, you managed to find your footing on shaking legs. Your room was large, one of the largest. It was just as much a mess as it was when you'd left for you mission, clothes thrown over the place, books propped open on the pages you'd left them on. Everything was the same but could never be again.

It took you longer than you'd care to admit to get to your windows and throw the curtains close. Candles light at your request, the house looking after you as it had since you were a child.

You caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror. It seemed smaller, everything in the room felt too large and you too small, as if you were being swallowed by the expanse of it.

Your frame was small in the mirror, your hair disarrayed. Your eyes were red and shutting of their own accord from the tears that had drained you. The starving in the cells had made you look weak, made you feel weak.

And your back. There was no more looming black figures there, no more fluttering. There was just nothing. In spite of the ache as you lifted your arm, you felt around your back, feeling the hitch there, the lump from where they'd been torn from you.

You cry. You sob. You scream.

The scars were long and the nightdress was sticking to you by the blood you'd shed. All you could do, was hold yourself up as your body wracked with tears.

A breeze came from your windows, shadows tugging at the curtains.

You felt him before you saw him. You wanted to tell him to leave you but you couldn't talk without chocking. Without feeling like you couldn't breath.

Azriel had you in your arms before your knees could hit the ground. He fell with you, softening your body on the floor. His arms held you into his chest, his legs caging you into his body. His head rested on yours as he held you. He didn't try to talk, he didn't try to help. It was just him, you and his shadows.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel remembered dozing off with you, his head on yours. His arms holding you into him, as if it was up to him to keep the sadness away and take it for you.

Afterall, you were his best friend. He should have been there for you, and he'd failed terribly by letting you get hurt and your wings stolen from you. He could hate himself every day for it, for letting you down. But it would never amount to what you felt for yourself and that killed him.

He could see it in the way you cried, in the way you were already keeping everyone out. He'd rather die than let you go through all the pain alone.

When his hands had been scarred by his brothers, you'd help heal him, tell him about everything he still was and all the power he still held in his hands. In the worst days, when he didn't let anyone touch him, he let you.

It was always you.

Azriel wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, or how deep. He was sure he was still with you, still in your bed.

His shadows crept up on him, engulfing him slowly and whispering to him. Your name, just your name on repeat. It was enough to lull him back into sleep, to keep him calm.

Gone. Missing. y'n. Roof.

He shot up and ran fastest than he ever had in his life. It was as if he'd never been asleep but had been fighting a battle with the way he raced over.

He burst through the doors, the cold hight air hitting him.

You stood facing the stars, your bloody back to him. It wasn't as much blood as when he'd found you, but it was still enough to put a lump in his throat.

Immediately his shadows fell to you, cascading down your body and wrapping around your waist. There was a breeze in the air, pushing your hair back and exposing more signs of the pain and torture you must have gone through.

'I'm not gonna jump, if that's what you're thinking,' you said. You didn't even have to turn to him. The shadows probably told you enough.

'Why are you up here?' he asked, walking to you slowly and with careful steps. As if every step closer could you push you away from him.

'I'll never feel the win properly again,' you answered.

Azriel gulped down his own pain. You’d never sounded so small. ‘Can you get away from the ledge?’

'I'm not on the ledge.'

'You're too close for my liking.'

'Leave if you don't like it.'

'Don't do this,' he said.

'Do what?' you asked, folding your arms over your chest. You were cold, out in the hight but you wanted to see the stars. Needed to see them.

'Make me leave. Make everyone leave you. I know that's what you're doing. It's what you do every time,' you could feel him dawning closer. His shadows were all around you, almost drowning you.

‘Every time,’ you scoff, stepping down and turning on him. ‘It’s not every day you lose your wings Azriel! But don’t let me stop you from leaving, flap them and go!’ You yelled, unable to stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t want to hurt him, you just wanted to be alone.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

'You jump and I’ll catch you,' he said. He was a step away, he could just reach out and touch, just a gentle caress. 'I swear it, whatever you do, I’ll follow. I’m not letting you get away.’

He watched your back shudder as he reached out, brushing knuckles against your shoulder blade. He heard your sharp inhale follow.

'Don’t think I won’t follow, y/n.'

Finally, you turned around in his shadows. You couldn’t meet his eyes but at least you could face his chest.

His hands were gentle on your shoulder as he rubbed it gently. 'Can I get Madja to clean you up?' He asked.

You nodded as he led you away. You truly did not deserve your mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Fifty-two years later...

When Amarantha had trapped the high lords of Prythian under the mountain, it hadn't be a conscious choice to follow your half-brother down. How Amarantha had allowed it, you weren't sure, but perhaps she wanted to use you just like her brother, or she thought it would bring more pain for him to see you suffer under there too.

You and Rhysand had barley spoke the last two years.

It had took you almost two months to heal fully enough to leave your room, another few months to face your family again. But even then, everyone knew something had changed in you. You didn't laugh as loud or smile as wide.

Rhysand was careful to ever let you out on a mission. Mor tried to take you out every night. Cassian spent all day every day with you and Azriel- he'd healed you better than any nurse.

Still, you had not told him he was your mate.

Still, you thought he wouldn't want it.

Still, you cared for your brother enough to not want him to go alone.

But being under the mountain, you could avoid your mate. At a painful price.

Until her. Rhys's mate. He hadn't shut up about her since he first met her, much to your dismay as you had to sit around and listen- having absolutely nothing better to do. And it only got worse when she turned up under the mountain. She was declaring her love for Tamlin- again, annoying your brother, and throwing Lucien into danger- which rather angered you. You had nothing against the ginger.

Rhysand had once sent you to find the girl to summon her as part of a bargain he'd made. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to look too forceful. You'd been lucky enough to find the two tangled up in each other against a cold wall, clothes ripped and hips moving together.

'Well, well well,' you'd intterupted.

Tamlin all but growled at you, but feyre was looking over you- evidently confused. She had no idea who you were. You, in your skimpy outfit that Amarantha kept you in (they all dipped low at your back, showing off your scars) and your eyes that were like a night sky.

'Amarantha's looking for her pet and Rhysand is looking for his. Honestly, i'd be a bit more worried if I were you. You know, considering Lucien still has an eye to lose.'

The two parted with your words as you sent Tamlin back to his master, the high lord glaring at you as you went. While Feyre tried to fix herself.

'Rhysand is over there, better not keep him waiting.' That was the first time you met her, having no idea how much trouble she'd be worth. The family that she'd become.

But Rhysand made sure you knew it all. From when the bond snapped in him and he'd stumbled. He ranted and ranted as they climbed out.

If only you were so talkative about Azriel. If only you could talk about him with your brother. But you'd tried not to painfully think about him. Climbing out of the mountain. It was all you could think of.

Maybe he'd have forgotten you? it had been fifty years. He'd probably realised how happy he could be without having to take care of you.

Rhys was allowed out of the mountain, he'd felt the breeze in his hair but you hadn't in fifty long years. You stood there a moment, bathing in the warmth as everyone left, as everyone ran off for their families and courts and the war that was inevitable. Eventually, Rhys offered you his arm. 'Shall we go home?'

He winnowed you there, on the balcony of your home. In a cloud of black smoke, the two of you appeared.

He went first, slipping through the doors slowly- like it could all be taken from them any minute.

You were hesitant, taking a moment to glance at the landscape behind you. It hadn't changed, not at all. The mountains were still there, everyone was still alive. Your home. In the last years it hadn't felt like home, but how could anywhere ever feel so close in your heart.

When you could find your feat again, you managed to slip through the doors. You were suddenly aware of how little clothing you were wearing, just enough to cover your chest and run down your legs. A chill settled down your back, your scars would be on show. What a way to great them all after fifty years.

Mor had her arms around Rhys's shoulders, crying into his shoulder.

Behind them you caught Amren, with something like tears in her eyes. You were just about to tease her before a body barrelled into yours in a blur of red syphons and your feet were lifted from the ground.

'Cassian.'

His arms tightened around you. You shoulder started to dampen with tears, his tears. The last time you'd seen him cry around you was when he'd seen a dog with only three legs. 'I'm keeping you on a leash from now on, stupid idiot.'

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile gracing your lips. 'Is that a promise?'

He held you longer, tighter, not daring to let you go but at least settling you on the ground. He sighed against your head, controlling himself. 'He's missed you, you know,' he said. He was the only one you'd told, about your mate. 'Now that you're back, tell him. He deserves to know.'

Cassian slowly pulled away, holding you at arms length and smiling at you. He kissed your cheeks and then your forehead before parting to Rhysand.

Mor approached you next, slapping you in the arm.

'Ow!'

'Why would you follow him?' she snapped.

You blinked at her before she took you by the arm she'd slapped and embraced you, like a sister would. You dared not looking over her shoulder to find the one who hadn't come to you. Maybe Cass had got it wrong...

Mor pulled away, wiping at her eyes.

Azriel was as beautiful as the day you left him. His hair was the same length, he was the same height. He was just as you left him. It was hard to tell fifty years had passed on him.

And inside of you, tugging in your soul and heart you felt the familiar string of gold throbbing. But you still didn't feel that tug. You'd hoped it would have faded from you after half a year separated. Or at least have snapped for him. But no such relief.

He approached you, slowly. As if he was scared of scaring you away. But you just stood there.

His arms were delicate and soft around you as he brought you into his chest. He still smelled the same, cedar wood and shadows. Shadows that wrapped around you, shielding you from the rest of the room. They caressed you, head to two.

You held onto each other for what could have been another fifty years, but this time, it wasn't so painful.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Although nobody wanted to part after yours and Rhysand's return, you were exhausted. A trip to Rita's could wait another night or two. The only thing you wanted to do was hide in your room.

Strangely, your room looked lived in. As if somebody had moved in since you'd left. A moment of anger replaced grief. Had they brought someone else and given them your room? but then you smelt it, Az.

Lying in bed that night, exhausted, you couldn't find sleep. You closed your eyes and pictured Amarantha. You'd never been afraid of her, you weren't afraid of anything. But you re-played the horrors. Watching servants beat Feyre, watching Amarantha use your brother and on the occasion, even you. How she flaunted. How the most powerful lords were weak.

Under your door, shadows seeped in, rushing across the room to you. You smiled, watching your hand disappear in their darkness.

'Azriel?' you called.

There was shifting on the other side of the door before he slipped in, clicking it shut behind him.

You sat up in bed, shadows moving with you. 'Couldn't sleep?'

He wondered in, looking around your room. 'Sleeping's been... hard.'

You rolled over, opening the blanket and nodding your head. You couldn't think about the bond, not yet. Not while he looked so.... ruined. Beautiful- the most beautiful person in the world, but sad. As he climbed in next to you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped and his wings too.

His eyes scanned over you. You were in a thin and silk night dress that only brushed your knees, but the way he looked at you, mother you could've been naked. 'Fifty years,' his voice sounded barley controlled. 'Fifty years. You followed your brother down for fifty years? Why would you do that?'

You gulp. 'I would've done it for any of you. Except maybe Amren, she'd probably enjoy the peace for fifty years.'

You go to brush your hair back but Azriel seizes your wrist. He was angry. That's why his voice was rough and his chest rising and falling with barley controlled emotions. Could he feel it? your nerves, your lying?

'You left. You should've stayed, y/n, you know Rhysand didn't want you under there with him,' he said. 'For fifty years I haven't been able to sleep through a night thinking about the pain you must have been going through. After I swore to keep you safe, after I promised to catch you every time!'

'You couldn't have stopped me. You didn't promise, Az.'

His grip grew tighter. 'It went without saying.'

You looked around his eyes, seeing the pain and grief there also. Slowly, you brought your other hand up. He flinched as you took his cheek but eventually settled as your thumb ran over his cheekbone. 'I won't leave again, ok? I promise.'

He gulped, letting go of your wrist and looking down. 'I slept here,' he mumbled, but just loud enough to hear you. 'I couldn't sleep in my room. This was the only place I could rest.'

Your heart stuttered. Your hand dropped from his cheek. This man was your mate. Your mate. Your only love, whether or not the cauldron deemed it.

Azriel took your hesitation. 'I-i'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear that. I've probably ruined your one place of peace-'

'Stay,' you said, before you could think of what you were asking. 'Sleeping wasn't exactly easy under the mountain either. I just trust I won't have to put a wall of cushions between us.' as if you wanted that. As if you haven't thought about his calloused hands all over you.

Azriel smiled and stayed the night.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The third time he almost lost you, broke him...

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[buckyalpine]

Actor Bucky x civilian reader 

I’m feeling angsty. Fluffy. Just a thought. But like a long thought. 

-

You should have known this would happen eventually. 

You knew you should have put your phone down and gone to sleep hours ago. Scrolling through social media did nothing to ease you mind as you stared at the 100′s of posts that showed Bucky whispering in her ear with a boyish smile. A sickly feeling spread from your chest, up your neck and to your cheeks, the type of heat that made your throat constrict and your eyes burn. The lump in your throat was painful to swallow, blinking back tears when you clicked on a video that had been shot by the paparazzi and leaked to the press, all the news outlets having a field day with brand new pics of a budding Hollywood romance. 

“Well, there you have it folks! Looks like Winter is warming up over here, stay tuned for more updates” 

“Single no more? Things steam up on the set of The Winter Soldier” 

“Swipe to get a sneak peak on the hottest new romance everyone’s excited about”

You wanted to throw your phone across the room, instead keeping your eyes locked on the way your boyfriend was cozied up with his co-star, the two of them seemingly giggling over an inside joke while taking a break between shoots. Her face was practically tucked into his neck while he laughed, both of them apparently blissfully unaware someone was watching. 

The image turned blurry from unshed tears, squeezing your eyes shut, turning your phone off all together. Your deepest insecurities reared their ugly head, thinking about Bucky’s effortlessly gorgeous co-star with her tall and slim build with curves in the right places. They looked like a dream couple; both attractive with obvious chemistry on screen and based on the “leaked photos”, in real life as well. Every single fear you had over the last few weeks were proved to be true with a few viral pictures. 

- 

Bucky groaned, silencing his phone after getting yet another unknown caller asking him if he’d care to comment on the latest headline about him and the lead actress in his upcoming movie. He ran his hand over his face seeing the way social media blown up overnight after someone had taken pictures taken out of context making it look like he was smitten and in love. His PR team insisted that a few candid shots would be good for promoting the movie and great for his image; when he agreed to having hired paparazzi's take a few “spontaneous” pictures, he thought it would be pictures with the whole cast; not just suggestive close up shots with his co-star that appeared intimate. 

Great.

He’d tried to call you repeatedly, every single one going straight to voicemail and all his texts unanswered. It had been a days since the new broke out and nothing had died down. Bucky hated that he was miles away from you, unable to even send anyone to check on you after you both agreed to keep the relationship a secret. The only person in his life who knew was his best friend, Steve, who was also on set. You’d been so understanding of his career, you hadn’t told a soul to make sure nothing ever leaked. Bucky knew you were used to a few rumors popping up every now and then about him and a potential new girlfriend but this was the first time there was photo evidence. 

New stories popped up like weeds. 

The last straw for him was when he spotted a magazine cover talking about his upcoming wedding and speculation over if there was a secret child on the way.

He couldn’t care less about PR or the movie anymore. A text to the director later, he was in his car driving off straight to you, carefully weaving through traffic while making a pitstop with his best disguise of a hat and sunglasses before speeding off once more. 

-

You sighed at the new stories that were still being posted on your social media feed, locking your phone once more to go back to the book you were reading. You’d ignored all of Bucky's attempts to reach out, choosing to spend less time on your phone, already drowning in insecurities and doubt. You took out a bunch of books from the library and spent more time the kitchen hoping anything would help take your mind off of the love of your life having an affair with another woman. 

The sound of the doorbell pulled you away from your book; you weren’t expecting anyone and it wasn’t usual for any of your friends to stop by in the middle of the afternoon. You were going to ignore it, thinking it was probably someone attempting to sell you something but-

“Y/n, doll I know you’re home, it’s me baby” 

Oh.

Your felt your stomach drop. Heart beating so fast, you could feel your veins tremble in your finger tips. He rang the bell again in hopes that you’d even hit him, smack him, happy to take it, anything to at least see you again. Your emotions swarmed all over the place, anxiety, anger, love, all of it fighting for dominance while you stayed glued to your spot on the couch. 

Asshole.

But that was your Jamie.

Dick.

But you loved him with your whole heart. 

“Babygirl” Bucky pleaded outside of your door, realizing the giant teddy that was 4 times his size and flower bouquet of 100 red roses did nothing to keep him discreet. “Sweetheart, please let me explain” 

You reluctantly opened the door, more worried that if someone saw Bucky at your door, a crowd of fans would end up swarming the area. If not for all the other emotions you were feeling, you almost giggled at the sight of a very wide, puppy eyed Bucky holding a stuffy that was larger than him and a bouquet of flowers that nearly covered his face. You wordlessly stepped out of the way while he dragged the comically large bear into the living room, placing the roses in its caramel fuzzy paws before turning to you.

You.

His pretty doll.

He could see your eyes were still puffy from nights of crying. Your lips were glossy from the balm you used when they were chapped after you’d nervously chew on them. Your poor little nose he loved to boop and kiss so much looked dry from how much you sniffled. Those gorgeous eyes he loved to stare into refused to even look at him, looking at your fluffy sock clad feet instead. You were still wearing a large hoodie of his but you probably hadn’t noticed when you slipped it on. 

Bucky hated it. 

His poor precious doll was so hurt all because of a stupid PR stunt. 

“Baby” You stood rigid as Bucky stepped towards you, his hand coming to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin, “Those pictures, they were taken out of context darling, they weren’t meant to come out like that-

“Then how were they meant to come out” You frowned, moving away till Bucky’s hand dropped, a sad sigh leaving his lips. 

“The team-they thought a few random, candid pictures would garner some publicity to get people talking. I thought they’d post pictures of everyone together, not just me and her”

“That doesn’t explain why you were so close to her” You fidgeted with the long sleeve of the hoodie, this time letting Bucky reach out to hold your hands though you left them limp while he gently squeezed them. “So that was all you then? That’s even worse Bucky” 

“No baby, no” Bucky frantically shook his head, pulling you closer with his hands now on your waist, “I pushed her away the second she got too close but apparently finding your co-star insufferable isn’t good PR. I looked irritated in all the other pictured so they didn’t use them. I promise baby, I’d never do anything to hurt you. I know I did and I’m so sorry, doll” 

While a part of you believed him, the other part of you couldn’t digest the fact that the rest of the world still thought they were a dream couple. It shouldn’t have mattered. But it did. You didn’t even want to begin to imagine the headlines that would pop up if the public saw you with Bucky. You couldn’t scrub the image away of how perfect they looked together, feeling frumpy and awkward in comparison.

“I can’t be like her Bucky” You struggled to keep your voice steady, not willing to cry in front of someone who clearly could do better even if he looked like he was ready to fall on his knees for you.

And then he did. 

“Y/n, I don’t want you to be her. Or anyone else, I want you” Bucky looked at you with pleading eyes, taking your hands in his and kneeling, pressing his lips to your knuckles. 

“But no one else thinks I deserve you. I thought I’d be okay with you maintaining a single image, I know it’s important for your career but I-I can’t watch interviews with people talking about how perfect you look with someone else, how you both look so in love-

“I’m done”

“What?” Your heart stopped, your hands shaking wondering if done meant he was done dealing with your worries, your insecurities, done with you-

“You’re the one I want. Not anyone else. I couldn’t care less about what others think baby, not when it’s hurting you so much. I want people to know who I’m in love with”

“But-

“If you’re not comfortable with it, I understand. But I don’t want to hide you anymore angel. Never again” 

Movie Premier 

You swallowed thickly, your heart beating out of your chest, fidgeting with the gown you had been dressed in, nervously twirling the ring on your finger. The limo came to a halt, the driver opening the door to a sea of screaming and cheers, a plush red carpet ready for you to step onto. 

“Ready, princess?” Bucky grinned, stepping out of the limo and reaching his hand out for you to take, helping you step out of the car. You gasped at the flashes of cameras and shrieks of fans coming from all sides, everyone trying to get Bucky’s and your attention. 

“James! Over here! Who is your date for the night?” 

“Miss! Miss!” 

“Over there, darling”, Bucky whispered in your ear while you smiled at a different set of photographers, each of them clambering over another to get the best picture of you both. 

“Could you step over here please, great, now one with the young lady, beautiful, James, one more!” 

Bucky simply smiled and nodded, keeping his hand around your waist, guiding you down the red carpet and stopping for more pictures along the way. He skillfully avoided the reporters who called for him, keeping a protective grip around you as you both entered the hall to get seated. Hardly moments later, headlines had already started spreading everywhere, your phone blowing up with messages from friends and family wondering if they were seeing the news articles correctly: 

James Barnes steps out with Mystery woman

Secret lover? James Barnes shocks fans with his premier date

10 things we know about James’s girlfriend

You giggled at the numerous posts that started to pop up on social media, your heart fluttering at the beautiful pictures of Bucky looking at you with heart eyes in every single one. There wasn’t one where he was looking anywhere else, focused on you the entire time and clearly people had noticed. You couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy at the comments people left, silencing all the doubts you had in your mind.

Get you a man that looks at you the way he looks at her

No wonder he was hiding her, shes gorgeous

I love him but like can someone tell me who SHE is?!

Look at him, he looks like an absolute puppy around her

She’s perfect for him, they’re babies are gonna be BEAUTIFUL 

There goes my chance. I can’t even be mad cause he looks so happy and they look so cute

“What you reading there, baby” Bucky kissed your shoulder, peering over to see what you were looking at on your phone before slipping it away into your clutch. He smirked, sneakily nipping your ear lobe making you gasp before continuing to whisper in your ear. “They’re right you know. You look so beautiful baby, gonna rip this dress off as soon as we get to the hotel room”

“You can’t rip it Bucky, I have to give it back-” You hissed but he wasn’t having any of it, his hand moving to squeeze your thing, grazing your skin from the slit on the dress. 

“I’ll pay for it. But you’re right, I won’t rip it. We’re keeping it, I wanna fuck you all type of ways in that-

“Oh my god” You hushed him with a peck to his devilish lips, your face hot while he gave you a smug smile. He couldn’t wait for the news that would go wild in the next few months.

James Barnes proposes to long time girlfriend, y/n y/l/n

Ready to tie the knot? James and fiancée spotted at wedding venue 

Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Barnes!

James and y/n fly to the Amalfi coast for Honeymoon 

Happy Anniversary to Hollywood's favorite couple

Baby bump or food baby? Y/n Barnes steps out in oversized hoodie for a late night food run

Baby Barnes on the way? 

Double trouble? James reveal’s he and his wife are expecting twins 

y/n Barnes posts first pictures of babies and they couldn’t be cuter 

Bucky couldn’t wait. 

[littlelightfish]

Holm nation... I have a heartbreaking announcement to make.

We didn't get to see this panels animated.

(I wanted to see Laios helping him, this one isn't the one this post is all about)

I feel it's important to his character enough that Kui decided to dedicate three panels about how he aproaches and resurrects Kabru.

He is used to resurrecting people, his party sucks at keeping themselves alive. He walks up to Kabru's corpse with a worried look on his face. Then he kneels besides him and takes a second to process what he is seeing. He is seeing a young man, Kabru, dead. It makes him feel unseasy, a bit of shock that he can't take the luxury of process at the moment. He doesn't want to look, so he closes his eyes and focuses on his spell. He is realizing he is the only one alive from his party (he doesn't know where Mick is or how he is). He is the last one standing. The reality of it all slaps him in the face.

The panel of him just... looking at the mess Kabru's corpse is was just... It was important. It talked about him as a character. "I'm not doing this because I want to, but because I have to". He doesn't has time for emotions. He has a job to do.

It's just three panels. But they provide lots of context between the ones that came before and after.

He doesn't just rubs Kabru's head because he's being afective. He does it because he cares. He does it out of relief. "As long as I'm here, any of you'll be dying soon. And I'll always be here. Don't worry." He is far from being OK after all this. Marillier died, Daya died, Kuro died, Kabru died, Rin died, Mick probably died too (but he doesn't saw it). He... By the time he was the only one standing, the fight was over, and he could alredy resurrect them. He wants to feel sad. To worry, to be concerned, to mourn. But he can't. It isn't necessary.

He is a cleric. He for sure has a notion of dead way different than anyone and feels a certain way about resurrection. "Dying is dying, even if you resurrect." It's a bug at the corner of his mind, he doesn't pay it any attention. He gets resurrected multiple times, he is gratefull he is alive. But seeing all his friends dead? And the most of them mutilated? Covered in their own blood? He has this desire to mourn. To cry the loss. To panic. "They are all dead."

He knows they'll come back. He has to make them come back. So he does. And they are alive. But they weren't a few seconds ago. And he just plays it off, he puts his calm face on as soon as there is another party member alive that could ask him what happened that it disturbed him so much. He throws all those sad feelings under the rug and focuses at the task at hand.

They're going to be ok, he just has to do his job: bring them back from death. They shouldn't even be dead. But they are. And he's going to fix it. No point on feeling sad about them dying if they can be alive soon!

I think the concern that the anime puts here it's something that could come close to what he feels inside. Those seconds are the only ones we see him looking something akin to worried for his friends.

But then...

His worry vanishes in seconds. The moment Kabru revives, he does it in such a "Kabru" way, that he tells himself: "This is fine, they're going to be back soon, nothing to worry about, I just have to hurry". He wants them all back to live. We know for sure that in his priority list there wasn't any "reviving Toshiro's party members first". He was going to make sure all his party, all his friends, were alive before even thinking of resurrecting other people if he still had the magic.

Those three panels they didn't animate are something that was there for a reason. To give depth to Holm. This last episode is definitely the one in wich he shines the most. He isn't the main character at all this episode, but he does the most important stuff on the background. He revives them all. This all lack of something if you don't show what Kuy drew on those panels.

Here he just... goes to work. He says: "lemme handle it" and he does. No concern, no worry, no, nothing. He just does. No thoughts.

It makes me sad. Those panels were important. :(

[soapybutt17]

The Next of Kin

Summary: Simon needed to update his contact information, as dodgy as he was for giving everyone even a glimpse of his private life, he did so. Who would have ever thought that it would become handy after an injury left him high on painkillers and needy for his girls back home. Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Wife!Reader. OC Daughter (Cassandra "Cassie" Riley). John Price. Word Count: 1,615 Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Injuries. Drug Consumption. Slight Angst. Mostly fluff.

Masterlist || Request are Open

It was the annual checkup in the base, something that Simon had dreaded the most knowing what it entails. Not only was his current and past injuries being monitored but he was all too certain about the wacky doctor would also make an appearance to check on his mental state. It wasn’t a fun time as any of his other team mates point it out to be.

“Should we update your emergency contact, Lieutenant Riley?” The nurse had inquired dealing with his medical records.

A part of him wanted to say no, but remembering what was waiting for him home, he could not allow himself to break his wife’s heart as well as his own daughter if the time ever comes that he dies in the middle of battle. He would want to ensure if ever that was to happen, you would know and hope that you would move on.

“Yes,” He agreed accepting the clipboard and pen handed to him.

Without an ounce of hesitation, he wrote your name and your number under his emergency contacts.

His handwriting was decent and readable at best, chicken scratch at worst as Johnny had eloquently pointed out during reports. But there was this special care with the way he wrote your first name and his last name that you were more than happy to take as soon as you married all those years ago. Your number was ingrained to his brain as he wrote it, having forced himself to memorize in the event he didn’t have his personal phone with him and simply a burner phone for missions.

What truly took him a second to write was the blank space dedicated to his relationship with you. No one knew he was in a relationship, nor did anyone know about his marriage. It took him a full two minutes before he found himself slowly opening the flood gates of his personal life that he had tried his best to hide from the world.

“Never knew you were married, Lieutenant.”

“Never planned on letting anyone know about it.” He spoke honestly, the cold demeanor and tone enough to stop the conversation from going further about his personal life.

Little did Simon know that the upcoming mission would lead to him having to make use of the emergency contact.

~

When you had begun your relationship with one Simon Riley, you had always accepted that he would always be gone for uncertain amounts of months in a year, you had accepted that part of him. How mission would always mean the world was a little safer from the dangers of man. You accepted all the big and small flaws that came with Simon and even in your eventual marriage and the birth of your daughter, you had come to accept the danger that would come in missions that would place him badly bruised or beaten beyond repair. You would always be there to tend to each and every single wounds and be the shoulder for him to cry on when he was good and ready.

But nothing could have ever prepared you for another unknown call coming from your phone. You’ve always expected it to be your husband, checking up on you before the mission begins like he always does. But the voice of an unknown man was the last thing you would have expected.

He called himself John Price and you know the man from your husband’s few conversations when he talks about the people he works with. You had feared for the worst as soon as he had explained that your husband has just gotten out of surgery after a mission. A few broken bones and a superficial gunshot wound. But it was enough to worry you as Simon himself has been asking for you as soon as he was out of surgery and in lucid consciousness.

On most days you were calm and collected, but it was the panic of seeing the worse of your husband that had you carrying your two year old and a baby bag towards your car with a mission. The Captain had asked if you could possibly have someone come get him but you know no one else better to check up on him but yourself and your daughter that was all the more excited about being in the car.

The travel was rather long and rather tedious knowing you and your husband had agreed to live away from the city and away from any dangers that may come to you and the baby while he was gone. You had appreciated the distance, the peaceful tranquility that came with being away from the bustle and noise of the city but not this time. It had meant a longer journey and a more hectic one since the base was all the way across the other side.

Once you had arrived to the base, all eyes were on you. Many eyes had lingered on you when they heard your last name. You know for a fact that your husband’s name and reputation beholds him, but you never knew nor did you ever try to question to what extent. It unnerved you more was how avoidant everyone had been of you aside from one of the soldiers tasked with bringing you and your daughter to your husband.

Outside the infirmary room was a rugged man. The man exudes an air or control and intensity and rugged strength, but not as much as your husband did. His posture was upright, suggesting discipline and years of military training. Dressed in an all too familiar tactical gear, he gives off a no-nonsense vibe that immediately commands attention.

“Ma’am, my name is John Price.” The man introduced the moment he caught sight of you.

You spoke your name and your daughter that was surprisingly all too mum in the whole situation, you were surprised that she wasn’t crying at being in an unfamiliar environment like she usually was.

“It is best to assume that you two are Simon’s wife and daughter, I presume?” He inquired.

You took a moment to think if it was alright to agree with his statement. Knowing your husband and the array of precaution he had come to give you, you were uncertain if you could trust the man with such a fact.

“Yes.” You spoke, dealing with the consequence later as there was something more important that needed your attention. “How’s he doing?” You inquired wanting to change the subject now.

“Stable. A little loopy from the drugs, but he’ll make a fast recovery.”

You nodded, hesitation of asking if you would be allowed to see him now in his state.

“He was looking for you.” He opened the door for you and you were welcomed with your husband in bed with his mask still on.

“Dada!” Your daughter squealed upon the sight of your husband groggy still.

You watched as his head turned to look at you and your daughter.

“Love…” He grunted wincing at the pain that you were certain that was coming in full force now.

“I’m here, Baby.” You whispered approaching him, cupping his cheeks gently. “Me and Cassie are here.” You assured trying your best to hide the tears that were fighting to fall at the sight of him.

~

When Simon Riley had opened his eyes, the first thing that he had come to notice was the pain that surrounded his entire body. The next thing that he noticed was the warmth that wrapped around his calloused hand.

Turning his head he saw the most beautiful sight that he had the fortune of seeing in his life. His wife and daughter. The more pressing matter was the fact that you were asleep in an all too familiar uncomfortable plastic chair with one hand on him, and your other arm held onto your baby sleeping on your chest.

“Baby…” He grunted harsher than he intended.

Slowly blinking away, your eyes immediately turned down towards your daughter before your eyes met his own.

“How are you holding up?” You inquired immediately, trying your best not to wake your sleeping daughter still cradled snuggly on your chest.

“Like a bitch.” He muttered appreciating being able to swear with his daughter still asleep. “But I’ll live.”

“I’m glad.” You sighed, rubbing his hand tenderly. “I was so worried about you when your boss called me. I thought something worse has happened.” You whispered.

“I didn’t really want to worry you—or have you see me like this.” He muttered.

“I know.” You nodded gently letting go of his hand to cup his cheeks that still was covered with his mask. “But I’m still as glad to be here right now knowing you’re alright. Me and Cassie get to see you’re alright.”

At the mention of your daughter, Simon noticed his daughter begin to get fussy from your chest. Gently pushing himself up until he sat on his bed much to your protest, he took your now crying daughter into his arms, gently laying her onto his chest and how quick she was sated in his warmth.

“Daddy’s here, Angel. I’m here.” He began to whisper, pulling off his balaclava to kiss his daughter onto top of her head. “I’m not going soon for a while. I promise.”

He has yet to tell you about the doctor’s insistence that he takes a few months off. It would be something he would tell when you get home. Once he finishes up with the paper works, he’ll let you know of the good news. For now, all that’s important was he had you and his daughter here with him, even in his most vulnerable state.

[desireangel]

Infernal Desires | Part One

Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Synopsis: When your family is caught up in treasonous scandal, the Prince Regent makes an offer that is impossible to refuse. To avoid what certainly would have been death by his sword, your family promises you to a man who is followed by whispers of violence and sin.

Warnings: mdni 18+! Strictly. Dark-ish ??? Aemond! Bad language, reader is implied to be from a certain family but not really, rushed & unedited. Sexual tension, allusions to sex, mentions of death and killing, Aemond gets angry handsy, hair pulling, mention of the noose bc Aemond would never tell just anyone how he feels. This is mainly a word vomit - I am once again incapable of limiting my writing to one part.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: aaand I’m back with a rewrite of an old fic I started last year! hopefully this is somewhat decent to follow along with - I wrote this while severely sleep deprived, stressed about procrastinating my uni work and knackered from work. Let me know if we are even interested in a part 2 or if I’ve missed any warnings!

It is a debt to be paid and an alliance to be made, that is all it is. 

Easy enough for them to say. After all, it was you who suffered from the mistakes of your family and not them. They may as well have left you to the dangers of King’s Landing with nothing more than a shattered dignity and the tears that trailed down your cheeks. 

Shit. Crying wasn’t going to do anything and while you never intend to present yourself as weak to anyone, there was nothing you could do to stop the angry tears that welled in your eyes. You wondered if your parents truly pained to see their daughter cry or if the tremble in your mother’s lip was nothing more than a pretence. 

Your father stared at the ground by your feet. “It was not meant to come to this.”

“But it did. Are you really going to barter me to–”

“We are not bartering you. Stop saying that,” He snapped. “All you will have to do is take the title as his wife and give him children. It cannot be that bad.”

The glare you sent his way was full of malice and rage. How could he say that? You were better than that, smarter than that and the thought of being reduced to who knows what that man had in store for you as his wife - they may as well have cut your tongue out and made you a slave. Knowing that your family, whom you loved endlessly, were so sure of selling you so easily to a cruel man like Aemond Targaryen caused a dull ache in your chest. 

It seemed hard to breathe through the betrayal, your chest heavy with deceit and heartbreak. Had you known what your father had been planning, you could have run away and found a way to survive without the comfort of your family lands. 

“What Prince Aemond has offered has saved us,” Jericho stood leaning lazily against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He stared at you, his little sister who would have died before leaving him to such a fate. “I do not expect you to understand the complex relationships between our Houses but consider this, dear sister. Would you rather him have the Vale burned to ashes? Have us hung from the walls of the Red Keep? I made a mistake. I know this, and I am sorry but this is the only choice we have.”

There was a tense silence. Jericho had ruined everything with little chance of repair and it was you who had to pay the price. You knew how the Crown punished Rhaenyra’s sympathisers and Jericho had damned the future of your family. What was happening is wrong - war is never worth the price it takes. You wholeheartedly agreed with that but there was something inherently stupid about putting the people you cared about at risk just to send a raven with a conditional offer of a bent knee. 

You blinked as you tried to make sense of it all. “Explain it to me. I do not understand.”

“Aemond Targaryen is Prince Regent but I was once his only friend,” Jericho said. You knew he used the word friend strategically. “He extended an olive branch. Repent our House’s treachery through our last daughter and a pin for the Vale on King Aegon’s map. You could not understand how generous that is. Refusing would have been a sentence of death.”

Friend? Generous?  You would have laughed if you could. You briefly wondered how Jericho had managed to barter with the Prince Regent before they had taken his head. Alas, it would be of no use to ask a question you would get no answer to. The men of these walls underestimated the capabilities of a woman’s mind and a woman’s strength. 

“All he gains is something to hold over your head, brother. Paying off your mistakes with my life? You have heard the stories - he has become a cruel man. Warming his bed when he sees fit and making his heirs will not fix what you did. Many have been executed for far less.”

Your father cleared his throat. “It is our only option. We have nothing more to offer in place and a ruined reputation. The family name holds the last of our power and without what little power we have left, your brother and I would lose the Vale. It is a miracle we have not already.”

“The Prince wants to dangle you over our heads? Fine. If that is what it takes for him to spare our lives.” Jericho’s voice was so rough. It was the first time you had seen him as anything other than gentle to you and you felt a heaviness at the sight of him so distressed. 

There was not much left for you outside of the empty empire that your father’s father had built for your family. At least you still had each other and your titles, and despite the situation that they’ve forced you into, at the end of the day, you all loved each other to death. It would have been a death sentence but you could have run away instead, could have found a life for yourself somehow. But how could you live with yourself knowing that you’d damned those you love because of your pride and fear of life as a princess?

So reluctantly and tearfully, you nod your head and silently agree.

Aemond wondered whether he was making the right decision by giving Jericho a second chance. If it were anyone else, he would have had them hung without a second thought. But you and your brother were different. 

It was a moment of weakness, an inexcusable lapse in his judgment to have spared Jericho’s treason because he remembered you and to have further justified his actions by claiming the Vale through your betrothal. While it was his first and foremost motivation and Aemond was bound by duty to take advantage of the opportunity, it was not the only reason he had suggested the idea at the Small Council.

There was hardly a person in Aemond’s life whom he could call a friend. There was not a soul in this world that Aemond could truly trust, not even Jericho who had been by his side for the first parts of his childhood. 

Nor you, who had at once shown him kindness in his youth despite the mockery that was often made of him. You had only accompanied your brother and father to King’s Landing on three occasions, and what started as your soft conversation and willing smiles for him had left his memory entirely until he heard word of Jericho’s treacherous message. 

Aemond, despite your attempts at friendship, had never returned your kindness. In truth, he didn’t know how to. And quickly, your smiles had turned to frowns and your attempts at friendly talk had become sarcastic remarks and quiet scoffs.

It was also a moment of selfishness and a decision made with nothing more than foolish curiosity. You had always been there, in the back of the picture and unnoticed by everyone apart from him. There was not a person in this world who had peaked his curious desire more than you and the two of you had spent the brief occasions together bickering and pestering one another. Regardless of your initial efforts, Aemond was never your friend. While he had never actually done you wrong before now, you were never really fooled by his deceiving nonchalance and forced manners. 

The indifference that you had for each other had no cause to fade. Even less so with the recent murderous, vile stories of Aemond the Kinslayer who killed his nephew and (while most wouldn’t dare utter the words beyond certain walls) who may have crippled his own brother with Vaghar’s fire. You had almost fallen to your knees upon hearing of your betrothal to such a man.

Aemond was now twenty and three but when it came to whatever distorted plot he was planning, he felt juvenile. Your brother and your father were the perfect pawns. You were the perfect leverage - perhaps a pawn yourself. As much as he convinced himself that having you in his possession would mean he would have invaluable power over your House to do exactly as he wanted within his twisted politics while he has the power to do so, the idea of having you in the palm of his hand, in his control and eventually beneath his body was exciting. 

He was never one for meaningless entertainment. But what was the harm in indulging himself this once?

It was a formality. Being presented at King’s Landing for the first time to your future husband, his family and to those whom he currently ruled over as the woman to be his wife. 

You had changed since the last time Aemond had seen you. It had only been two years but he would never admit to his surprise at just how different you had become from the cowering young girl he remembered you to be when you were just ten and four. 

He had rushed through the formalities of greeting you and your family, welcoming you into what would come to be your home. The lunch was painfully awkward as little was said between anyone. The Dowager Queen spoke formally yet kindly with your mother and shared a few words with you but you could barely engage with her conversation under the burning gaze of the Prince Regent who sat across from you.

It was over quickly, before anyone could start bickering about the traitorous reasons behind your presence. Aemond shortly convinced his mother that no escort would be needed, so long as Ser Criston Cole was there when you both were left to acquaint yourselves in private. You gulped as you were lead shamelessly into the Prince’s chambers. 

Aemond only set a glance upon Ser Criston and the raven haired man took his place outside the closed doors.

You were sure that the Prince’s chambers were as large as an entire wing of your own home yet you felt claustrophobic under his gaze. His eye was hellfire as he silently stared at you, leaning back in his chair and resting his fingers under his chin. There was little you could do but stare back at him, anxiously tapping your foot on the marbled floor.

In your eyes, Aemond had always been torturously beautiful. But here, as his gaze fell upon you and you shared the silence of his personal space, he was ethereal. It caused your breath to catch as you waited for him to address you first.

Shakily, you broke the silence. “Why am I here, my Prince?”

“You are to be my wife,” He drawled, fingers tapping on the desk that he lazily dragged his hand along. What a stupid question. “That is why you are here.”

“I believe you know that is not what I ask, my Prince.” You scowled at him. It wasn’t smart to talk to him in such a way, you knew that. He is Prince Regent, after all. A memory of your brother’s warning to be careful flashed briefly in your mind. 

His expression deceivingly calm, Aemond considered putting you in your place. He may be behaving in a way he does not recognise of himself but he would not tolerate your disrespect. 

Instead, he somewhat answered your question. “We will be married so that your brother’s treason shall be forgiven and your House will be sworn to the King. You will stay here, in my chambers. Do whatever the seven hells you please, it does not matter.”

In any other instance, Aemond would have detested the sight of you gaping at him, stumbling over your words stupidly as your wide eyes confidently held his own. You had changed. Or maybe he had just been blind to the perfect curves of your body or the way you looked at him like he ruled the realms, so submissive yet so full of fire. So tempting. 

He’d condemn himself to the noose before ever admitting to his thoughts. 

“What?” you almost gasped. There was no chance that you could stay in his chambers like this. You were sure the whispers of the Keep were already running amok with Aemond’s insistence on isolating the two of you behind the doors to his private chambers.

Aemond took pleasure in the way you seethed. “I will not make it so easy for you to return to scheming with your treasonous family.”

You could hit him. If he weren’t a Prince, you would have. “You are keeping me prisoner? For something I have had no such hand in?”

“No,” he stood from the table and in two strides, he was in front of you. So close that you could smell the woody oils he bathed in mixing with the smell of his musk and the leather of his clothes. You shuddered. “Maybe I am. Call it what you like. You can do as you please, eat as you please, wear whatever you please, you can explore these halls as you wish. I do not care. But you will listen to me and it will all be as per my will.”

Before you could respond, Aemond continued. “For all they know, I’ve made it clear to everyone that you will stay in the chambers that I have chosen for you, on the other side of that wall.”

Aemond’s eye was a violet-blue inferno as it held yours. He was closer now and you let your eyes drag across every part of his devastating face, swallowing at his beauty and wondering what lay under the leather of his eye patch. 

Struggling not to lose your breath, not to lean in to touch him and feel him, you held your head high and turned your back to him. “Fuck you.”

A gasp fell from your lips as Aemond’s hand found the back of your head in an instant, slender fingers weaving into your hair gently before closing into a tight fist and pulling back slowly so that you were forced to look up at the roof, the back of your head resting against his chest. His other hand wrapped around your waist, holding you back firmly against him. The tightness of his grip on your hair ached and left you dizzy, an unfamiliar longing for his hands to find more of you with the same fervour had you holding back a pathetic whine. 

Suddenly, you were burning from head to toe, a fire setting on your skin as he held you roughly against him, so close that you felt the feather light tickle of his breath grazing your hair when he spoke. He was scorching you through the leather of his tunic, your dress doing little to shield you from the heat of his body.

More than his anger, Aemond’s amusement made the air heavy. The way he unashamedly let his stare fall upon your lips, tucked between your teeth as you struggled to hold your glare, had your breath snatched from your lungs. 

Aemond dropped his head enough so that his lips lingered just under your ear, close enough that you could hear him draw in a breath, dragging his nose across the dip where your jaw met your neck. Your face burned at how shamelessly he had inhaled your soft scent.

“Is that how you talk to your Prince?” Aemond’s voice was low, dripping with a dominance that commanded respect. Placing his free hand on your left shoulder, he slowly turned you to face him, making sure to keep you tightly pressed against him.

Aemond was disastrously beautiful. The curve of his nose, the strength in his jaw, the way his scar painted the top of his cheek, the soft fall of his pin straight hair and the soft shine of his lips which you so badly yearned to feel. You cursed yourself for thinking such a thing as his low voice broke you out of your distraction. “This is my home. Right now, all of Westeros is mine. You are here because I said so, because I own everything. Everything. Including you. You would do well to remember your place while you are here, pretty thing.”

The fire in your blood was rage. You had never felt such desire that had your body craving another. It was anger driving you mad, it had to be. Despite your better judgment, you whispered once again, “Fuck. You.”

His jaw ticked and with a strong yank, you were flush against him. The pounding of your heart was violent and you were sure he could feel it against his chest but you were stuck under his burning gaze. Aemond was angry. And you couldn’t help but think that it suited him. It made him all the more desirable. 

Aemond was strong and hard against your body, tense as he held you so intimately yet so roughly. 

By the gods, you couldn’t even think. What was happening? 

“My Pr-”

“Quiet,” Aemond commanded. His deep voice, raspy with lust and with rage sent shockwaves down your spine. “What a mouth on you, my Lady. Fuck me, is that so?”

You muttered incoherently under your breath, the desire and the fear making your eyes flutter shut as you trembled against the Prince who held you so roughly.

“Hm,” Aemond chuckled when you let out a short whimper. He squeezed you tightly, his voice low and dark. “I could have you begging on your knees, crying for my cock all day and all night and you would never deserve it. You best careful, ñuha dāria, because I can ruin you.”

Another gasp fell from your lips and Aemond took pleasure in the way you squirmed against him, thighs pressing together as you felt the flush of his words through your body. He hummed, you were so reactive. Somehow, you fit perfectly against him, so that he could feel every little tremor he caused in your body, every goosebump that he placed on your skin. His gaze never left you, his resolve solid as iron. 

Your mouth watered at the thought of the things that Aemond could do to you. Thoughts you had never imagined yourself capable of harbouring, especially not for a man like Aemond Targaryen. It overwhelmed you - he overwhelmed you. 

But all you had to do was glance at the map that was splayed over his table and the weaponry he had discarded at the foot of it before you were trying to shove him away from you. Aemond stepped away from you upon noticing the panic in your movements. You barely noticed the flash of worry that passed through his features before he so skilfully replaced his mask. 

The rise and fall of your chest was heavy and you had the sudden urge to punch the sultry smirk right off of Aemond’s face. That was not okay. Right now, you didn’t even want to think about the way your body reacted to him, they way you would have let him have his way with you right there and then despite all the consequences that would rain down upon you. 

“I will not stay in here,” You closed your eyes to avoid his stare, chest heaving as you caught your breath and reminded yourself of the formalities of Aemond’s title. And of the possible repercussions for denying him so stubbornly. “My Prince, it is not appropriate.”

You hadn’t heard him make his way across the room until you heard the door open. Aemond hesitated, his resolve was not as strong as he had thought given the way his heart was beating as if he had run a mile. The strain at his pelvis was almost painful and his hands urged to be tangled in your hair again, squeezing your hips, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath your clothing. Perhaps you weren’t wrong and Aemond returned to his hardened self at the thought of being unable to control his desires. 

“Hm,” he drawled, stoic as ever and standing tall at the doorway and gazing down at you over his shoulder with a red hot spark in his eye. Aemond’s mind raced with a million words, many in the alluring language he knew you could not understand and they all tasted dangerous on his tongue. “You are not wrong. It is not appropriate until we are wed, ñuha dāria.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

hey feel free to ignore this if its too dark but could u do ford x reader where he comes back from the portal and finds out reader died while he was gone

The moment Ford uttered you name he should’ve known something was wrong, especially the way Stan eyes didn’t meet his, his face was set in a look that told him that whatever happened to you he still wasn’t in complete acceptance of it.

‘Stanley,’ Ford said as he stepped closer to his twin brother, who has evening uncharacteristically silent the entire time, ‘where’s y/n?’

Stan fiddled with his fez hat as he debated whether or not he should tell Ford a lie, or tell him the truth that to this day he himself was still very much in denial over, but he decided that his brother should know regardless even if it did hurt him to admit it. ‘Y/n’s dead Stanford.’ Stan finally said and could hear Ford gasp in the silence that followed afterwards.

‘What? When?’ Ford asked, looking over at his desk and at a framed picture of you and him in your youth with a hairline fracture on the glass cutting across your face. He wished this was some joke but Ford knew his brother well enough to know that he’d never joke about you or death in the same breathe, you were their friend since childhood, and his childhood sweetheart; So to find out thirty years later that you were no longer living hurt Ford in ways he couldn’t fathom, it was like his heart had been violently ripped out of his chest and smashed into a million pieces, the air left his lungs as quickly as the news came and he had to find something to sit down on.

‘They died last this day last month…they held out hope that you’d come back one day, said they had something they’ve always wanted to tell you but before I could ask what…they passed away…I’m so sorry.’ Stan told him as he went to sit next to his brother who had tears silently streaming down his cheeks. You and Stanford meant a lot to Stanley- and a hell of a a lot at that- you were the only person in New Jersey who didn’t give a shit about Ford’s six fingers, or being labelled as weird because of your association with them, you just didn’t care enough about those things and instead encouraged them to keep being who they were without shame.

Stanley also knew that Ford had a thing for you and still has from how he kept things you left at their parent’s house when you were younger, it was fun to tease him about it until he started actively encouraging Ford to say something to you, anything! Lucky you did go out for a bit but it wasn’t until everything blew up between and only then did your relationship fracture and fall off. With Ford dedicated all of his time and effort to his work rather than your crumbling relationship, it had gotten to the point where you just left without a trace, assuming that he’d be off in the woods on his latest monster chase.

Stan tried to keep telling you to hold on, just until Ford came home, but your health had rapidly declined so severely that there was nothing anyone could’ve done to prevent it. It hurt Stan to loose his best friend and his unofficial but in his heart of hearts official in law, he couldn’t help but think of how Ford would react upon hearing that the person he still longed for had died with a heart heavy with regret. You wanted to marry Ford, it was your biggest hopes for the future but unfortunately that future didn’t come nearly as soon as either you or Stan would’ve liked.

‘And we ended on less than satisfactory terms too.’ Ford said sombrely, feeling deep within his chest that something was missing, he felt hollow and empty knowing that he had missed out on setting things right with you. He had missed the chance to marry you happily like he saw his alternate self did in a dimension that he visited briefly, and looking back at it now only caused Ford more heartbreak. ‘There’s so much I have yet to tell them,’ he trails off as he looked to Stanley who had now started to tear up at this point, ‘I still love them Stanley.’ He admits and Stanley clenched the fabric of his pants within his firsts. ‘I know and they loved- no-still love you too, right until their very last breath all they could think about was you.’ Was all he said.

‘I wanted to marry them Stanley.’ Ford said weakly as all the future prospects he had for you and him slowly slipping from his grasp, one by one.

‘I know.’ Stan replied.

‘I wanted to spend the rest of my life with them.’

‘I know, they did too.’

‘I wanted them.’ Ford cried

‘And they wanted you just as much.’ Stan said as he brought his brother into his side as he wept while clutching at his chest as though his heart was burning him from the inside out. it hurt Stanley to see his brother in pain, such pain that it brought him to his knees, begging and pleading for a god that doesn’t exist to bring you back to him. Stan hated knowing that you and Ford could’ve had a happy ending, only to end up with a tragic one instead; So he remained by Ford’s side in solidarity as he cried and shouted until his throat was raw and he feel asleep due to exhaustion.

‘You deserved better,’ Stan said to no one in particular, ‘you both did.’

[jellieland]

"You know," says Jimmy smugly, "I think second is the best spot to die in, actually."

"Really," says Mumbo, exasperated.

"Yes, I don't know what you're so happy about," says Lizzie. "You barely lasted ten minutes more than me."

"Doesn't matter. Not out first, baby!" He crows, triumphant, to the neverending void.

"And you killed me last session!"

"...Yes, I, uh, I'm sorry about that one. Sort of. Mostly," he says, momentarily cowed.

"I can't believe you people," says Lizzie. "They didn't have a funeral for me. I died first, and you got one, and they didn't even have a funeral for me!" She sounds indignant, but a look of genuine hurt crosses her face for a moment.

"I'm going to be honest, Lizzie," says Mumbo awkwardly. "I think they had bigger things to worry about. I- I think Joel was quite sad about it, though. If that helps?"

"I suppose it's better than nothing." She crosses her arms.

"But- wait, hang on. Jimmy?" says Mumbo abruptly. "Did you say you wanted to go out second?"

"No!" Jimmy protests. "I just think if you have to go out, then second is sort of ideal, really, if you think about it!"

"No!" says Mumbo, indignant. "No, surely third is better, actually! And to extend that logic, fourth would be better as well, and fifth, and- well, you get the idea. Anyway, my point is that I did better than both of you!"

"Hey, don't bring me into this!" says Lizzie.

"Anyway, you're wrong," says Jimmy, back to being smug again.

There is a short silence.

"You, uh. You gonna elaborate on that one, buddy?" asks Mumbo.

"Well," says Jimmy. "Obviously going out first is terrible. Would not recommend. I don't know why anyone would do it, honestly, I know I would never-"

"You're going on my list," says Lizzie, cheerfully.

"Wait wait wait, no, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I really am!"

"Hmm." Lizzie narrows her eyes. "Acceptable. For now."

A few moments pass.

"You may continue," she says.

"Right," says Jimmy. "What was I saying?"

"You were being wrong about how the ranking in this game works," offers Mumbo.

"No I wasn't!" says Jimmy. "Just, let me explain. Now, you obviously don't want to go out first, sorry Lizzie, but it's true."

"I will concede that point," says Lizzie. "It wasn't great."

"But—have you seen how they get?"

"How they... get?" Mumbo frowns. "What do you mean?"

"The people who don't die."

"I- now, I don't know if you remember this," says Mumbo, "But third is a new record for me, so I really don't know how you expect me to know that."

"Anyway," interjects Lizzie, "Mumbo and I have only done this once before. I mean, I guess people started losing it a bit once you two died, but it wasn't that much different to how it already had been. Although I wasn't around for that long at that point."

"Yes, but, it-" Jimmy frowns. "I haven't seen much of it either. But there's something- I don't know how to explain what I mean. Maybe you haven't noticed, but there's stuff with Grian, Scott, Pearl."

He stops, sighs. Looks at the ground.

"Martyn's going to be alone, now," he says.

"Well," says Lizzie, a little acerbic. "You don't have to have people die for that to happen, you know."

Jimmy gives her a look that is a combination of sheepishness and genuine regret. "Ah. Yeah. I guess not."

"So you're right," says Lizzie. "I don't know what you mean."

"...I did feel bad," says Jimmy, quietly.

"You... did?" asks Lizzie. "What about?"

Jimmy looks at her, then off to the side. "...When I killed you."

"Oh."

"I really didn't mean to," he says. "I felt bad. It wasn't satisfying. It was just... a person I cared about. Dead. Because of me. Because I acted without thinking, because I wasn't paying attention."

"...Oh." says Lizzie, softly.

"And that was when I knew you would come back," says Jimmy.

Lizzie and Mumbo exchange glances, unsure.

"I'm good with second," says Jimmy. "I think it's the closest you can get to winning, actually."

They stand there, silent, for some time.

"Well," says Mumbo eventually. "I still feel like third is a bit better, though."

"Mumbo!" cries Jimmy.

"Mumbo, come on, we were just having a moment!" says Lizzie.

"Yes well, look, I really need this, guys," says Mumbo, shifting his weight from side to side. "I don't know if you know this, but I've had a really bad day. It was just terrible!"

"I think we've all had pretty bad days, Mumbo!" says Lizzie, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we all died!"

"Yes, I- I had picked up on that, actually."

"I don't know," says Jimmy. "My day was great!"

They keep talking, and bickering, and the emptiness stretches off into the distance.

It's nice, not to have to be there alone.

[oval3000]

Chapter 1

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

(This story might suck idk)

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

König felt three of the guards holding him down while one of the other nurses stuck a needle inside his arm. It took a while for it to work on him, but eventually he fell asleep.

The doctor infront of him, pressing his hands on the open wound of the other, unfortunate, nurse's neck trying to control the bleeding.

It was no use, the wound was deep the pressure barely hold the amount of blood she lost. It was honestly foolish of her. What did she think will happen? She kept rolling her eyes whenever König needed something. It was easy, she was sloppy, always leaves things unintended. It was time for a new nurse anyway all the other ones that come and go don't meet up to his standards.

The amount of nurses he has killed was all fun and games to him, but he got bored. Now it was anger that drives it. Before, he would play a game with them, he flirts to get them near him and it works until he chokes them with one hand or slits their throats with anything he can get his hands on or just simply slamming their heads to the wall. It was funny seeing them put up foam in the walls inside his room, it wasn't too long for them to realize it won't do anything when he smashed a guards head onto the floor and quickly stomped on it like it was nothing.

Bashing their heads to anything it's what got him here in the first place. Being in the military is something not everything can stand. For König it became a playground. Killing his enemies however he wanted. Breaking their heads, their necks, arms, legs, ankles, practically anything.

The amount of meetings the staff has to attend to acknowledge Königs behavior and how it's partially the staff's fault for being so careless. It was hilarious for him honestly. Having the entire building walking on egg shells around him. They don't know how to tame him, how to tame a monster who kills someone as if they are a cockroach

The only person that could possible get through his head is his psychiatrist. However his attempts to clear him backfires when König kills someone. At times the doctor is to frustrated that he gave up and he did, so he got a new psychiatrist.

He finds his new psychiatrist annoying. She puts other people's sceneries to get into his head to see what is wrong with him. Telling him that his suffering in the military is similar to a women going through a divorce. König could care less about her personal life or anyones.

She got up a left after his session while the guards took him to his room. The psychiatrist told the staff to give König his medication, but they all took a step back. She ask for his nurse, but they all stood quiet until one spoke up and said that König doesn't have a nurse, his last nurse died and it has been hard for them to find a new one.

She quickly made her way to the administrator's office and plead for a new nurse. The administrator told her no so she spread her legs and he quickly said yes. After all she didn't want to be the next victim of his so a nurse should do.

Then you came along. Sweet and innocent you. You took the job when you saw the job opening on their website and it was perfect timing. You just moved here and needed a job asap. After you graduated you worked at a hospital for a year until the bills and rent went up and the pay stayed low so when you found out that a facility needed a new nurse with triple the pay, you took it.

You waved at the receptionist hello while clutching the strap of your crossbody bag. "Hello, I'm looking for the administrator, I'm (Y/n). I'm the new Rn"

"Oh miss (Y/n)." He gave you a hesitant smile which caught you off guard, but you didn't think too much. I mean the receptionist has seen so many new nurses come in go fast, but you didn't need to know that, do you? "The administrator is waiting for you in his office."

"Okay thank you." You signal some confusion to the receptionist. "Um?"

"It's down to your right, left office." He said hand signaling the directions.

You gave him a smile and quickly headed to the office by giving a few knocks until you heard a male voice telling you to come in.

The men stood, shook your hand and told you that a fellow nurse was going to give you a rundown about how things work.

You followed the nurse has he took you to the floor you'll be working on. This will definitely be different then working at a hospital. He told you where the nurses station is and the name of the doctors that come to see the patients aswell as the patients themselves. However, your only worry is one patient in particular. König.

He showed you where his room. "This is where he stays. Now, you have to be careful with him. Can't turn your back on him. Don't leave anything near him and don't be near him in general."

'Don't be near him. How will you give his medication if you can't be near him'

"If you feel like your in danger, don't hesitate to scream for help, besides the door will always be open when you go in and two guards have to be with you at all times if you go inside his room. Don't make small talk to him, don't give him anything unless it has been confirmed with the heard nurse here. Which is me okay."

You nodded in understanding of the situation. He gently grabbed your arm and pulled you to a place away from everyone else. "Look I shouldn't be telling you this, but I feel like you deserve to know. But you can't tell anyone I told you this, okay."

"Okay." You responded.

"The last few nurses that attended him always ended up getting killed by him. He is the reason why we always need a new nurse."

'So that's why the pay is higher'

"If you want to quit I don't blame you, but you should know what you're getting yourself into." He whispered to you.

Are you scared? I mean the fact that you can die is. Either stay and get paid or go back and be in debt, which one is better? "Thank you," you looked at his tag, "Jacob"

"No problem. Oh and Dr. Smith is his psychiatrist so whatever she tells you, you do. She can be a bitch sometimes, but she only comes in on Tuesdays and Thursdays or if there is a tragic emergency."

You gave him one last okay before he went back to his computer. You looked around and saw how many guards there are in the floor. More guards than nurses.

You saw docotrs leaving the patients rooms, you strolled around getting to know the facility. You went to the locker room and quickly placed your bag inside while fixing your scrubs and your hair. You head your way the nurse's station ready to do what you need to do. They started you off by you giving medication and taking vitals to some patients, just for you to get the hang of it as well as report anything back to their medical files and re-learn how to work the system. Jacob gave you a little index card with the information you need about König. Mainly how to give his medication. As for needles, a guard has to hold him down.

"(Y/n)" Jacob called for in the desk area. You went up to him. "This will be your work space, you are in charge of these patients, which includes König." He showed you the list of patients which is not a few compared to others. "The biggest one is König, which is why you don't have a much. All their routines are the same. Sometimes the patient will call out for you."

"How?" Not like they have a control to call for assistance.

"A guard will come and tell you. Everything else is pretty straight forward all of their medical history is in their charts aswell as their medication and their dose. They all share the same doctor who comes by every few months, unless they need medical attention. You get the gist right?"

"Yes." You said staring at the computer screen.

"Good. All the medical supplies are back here." He pointed to the big beige cabinet that is behind you. "And obviously the patients medication are in their and here are the keys." You looked at what the computer was placed, a big drawer each with a key hole and a sticker of the patients name on each one. "If you have any question, feel free to ask me."

You nodded and did what you are paid to do. You quickly got the hang of things. Lunch came in quick as you saw the kitchen staff making their way to the dining room area. The guards went in took all patients to the area ready for them to eat. They two went in and brought out König. He was wearing the usual white t-shirt with the white sweatpants. Part of his hair was tied back into a low ponytail while the rest hanged loosely to his face. He doesn't have long hair, but not short either. He turned his head towards you. You can see his eyes as they stared at you.

König didn't smile, didn't frown. He was intrigued.

You looked back into the computer and quickly pulled up his file. Ex- Military, age to be around 40. Austrian. Can speak German. Suffers from severe social anxiety. Blood type AB. Activities in the facility- arts and crafts. Suffered from multiple injuries during his deployment. History of broken arm, leg, stab wounds.

'Ex- Military. No wonder.'

After lunch it was time to give them their meds. You went to do your round, checking their vitals and giving them their medication. You made your way towards König's room. The two guards opened the door widley while one entered in. König saw you as he sat on his bed legs slightly spread open while his triceps rested on his things. His head hanged low but peaked up when you entered.

You took out the aneroid Sphygmomanometer. You made your way towards him. Already doing something they warned you about. His eye sight followed your figure. You were too nervous to look at his face. If you don't look at him then nothing bad will happen. König stared at you as you place opened the cuff and wanting to place it on his bicep. You were honestly doubting that the cuff was going to fit around his bicep, compared to yours it was like comparing a mountain vs a sand castle.

He moved his bicep slightly up for you too take a better look. The guards gave eachother looks as if he never done this before. You wrapped the cuff around his bicep, not wrapping too tight. You felt bicep, they're hard. Hard as a rock. You pressed on the little latex bulb, giving it a few squeeze while checking the gaudge. When you got the results, you wrote it down quickly.

As for König, he didn't do anything, he just watched. He watched as you came near him. To check his tempt, his heart rate. He saw you bringing the little Dixie cup with his medication. He felt the guards stiffen knowing this is the part where he will either snap your neck or crack your skull open with ease.

You placed the cup on to the little table you have to take with you with all the supplies you need and rolled it near him. Your guess is that he snaps when someone wants to drug him. Ex- Military, you won't be surprised he they forced him to take some sort of drugs while fighting off his enemies. "It's okay. This one is to calm your nerves, I know they can hard to deal with. Trust me I know. I'll give you the one that will help you sleep at night so you can't get comfortable."

He took the cup and threw the pill inside his mouth, quickly swallowing it. The little cup is so tiny compared to his hands you couldn't even see the cup. He placed the cup back onto the table. "Thank you." You said to him while walking out of his room. As soon as you heard the guards shutting the door you felt the nervousness leaving your body.

König laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He felt a smile on his face.

He haven't felt this way in a long time. Quite frankly never.

You are definitely getting in his interest.

[koqabear]

(Un)Professional

♫: te pongo mal, Kali Uchis

“When Soobin struck up the proposition to be friends with benefits, he did it under the guise of remaining single and focusing on his music, adamant on keeping things “professional”— god forbid anyone else tries to get with you though, because maybe he didn’t really mean it when he told you no strings attached.”

Soobin x fem!reader

Genre: fwb to ???, pwp, kinda angst, smut, rockstar!au

Word count: 4.5K

warnings: soobin is actually kinda mean and toxic but they have their little redemption arc idk TT… barely edited sorry

smut warnings: mean/hard dom! soobin, sub!mc, mc is kinda bratty, so also brat tamer soobin hehe, rough sex, unprotected sex, pet names, (pretty, baby, etc.) possessiveness, jealousy, degrading, thigh riding, dry humping, breast play, edging, marking, biting, oral (f. rec.), fingering, dacryphilia, hair pulling, dumbification, creampie (lmk if i should add anything!)

Notes: this is a mini series that was made simply because i am an indecisive loser. don’t ask why i was listening to reggaeton for a rockstar au, it just happened 😭 also i wrote all these parts after midnight bc that’s the only time i was able to write i guess— in other words… don’t expect too much from this. 

Soobin doesn’t do relationships. 

There’s no room for something as fragile as that in his life, at least not when he’s traveling to a new state every day for his tours— the last thing Soobin would ever do is fuck up what he already has just for something as fickle as love. 

However, he is a man with needs— needs that are gladly fulfilled by you, his pretty best friend that always travels with them. 

He’s known you long enough to have struck up this arrangement confidently; knowing there would be no strings attached, not able to form any feelings for someone he’s been content being just friends with for— well, forever. 

So this— his pounding heart, his brows that furrow together with frustration, his hands that grip his microphone a little tighter— is definitely new. 

There is no logical reason as to why he should be feeling like this; there’s no logical explanation as to why it’s been such an eyesore to watch Yeonjun interact with you the whole night, watching the way the man not so subtly sends winks and coy smiles in your direction, Soobin’s lips being bitten at as he watches the way you merely smile cutely in response. 

You don’t even act this way with him; every time you’ve come to their shows, you’ve always made it a point to act normal whenever Soobin comes around— just enough excitement to make you seem like a fan, but not enough to make it seem like you know him— you’ve learned this the hard way.

“Tone it down a bit next time, yeah?” Soobin told you once, as you laid in his hotel bed and surfed through the tv channels with droopy eyes, “If we’re gonna keep doing this, we should be professional about it.”

His words garnered a massive roll of your eyes— what the fuck did he even mean by that? It’s a concert, of course you had to seem excited— but it seems as though you took his comment to heart, watching the way your excitement dies down the moment Soobin approaches your side. 

No one’s watching you— no one cares about what faces you make or what you say when Soobin stands before you, but the thought of him telling you to keep it professional pisses you off so much that you decide to show him just how good of an actress you are; the difference of reactions is almost incredible, and you take in the way Soobin’s eyes narrow at the sight of you. 

There’s no reason he should get mad— after all, there’s nothing between you. 

Agreeing to this was a stupid idea. What kind of a self-destructive freak agrees to be friends with benefits with someone they had feelings for? A self-destructive freak like you apparently, because as you watch Soobin leave with one last glance at you, you can’t help but wish that he was just a bit mad. 

The two of you distract yourselves in your own ways; Soobin tries not to visit your section for the rest of the night, and you try to get the attention of the rest of the members in response— and the boys, surprised to see your excited attitude when they come around, are more than happy to oblige— and if the fans noticed that Soobin seemed to be in a bad mood for part of the show, well, that’s on him.

You feel a bit more tired than usual by the time the concert ends— you’re not sure why, but you find yourself trudging backstage because of that; maybe you should just go to the hotel instead of congratulating the boys for their show like you usually do. 

“Oh, hey ___!” Yeonjun spots you before you can turn on your heels and exit; you’re immediately putting on a bright smile as the said man throws an arm around you, still in his encore outfit as he drags you along the halls and undoubtedly to where the rest of the members are, “What’d you think of the concert? It was good huh?”

“As always,” you smile, nudging Yeonjun softly as he clearly waits for you to continue, “You were great out there, your energy was insane.”

“Why thank you,” he purrs, leaning in and watching as you scoff at him playfully, “Watching you enjoy yourself practically gave me all the energy I needed.”

You don’t find yourself surprised by his comment; Yeonjun is always like this, his flirty and suggestive behavior nothing out of the ordinary as you simply scold him to get out of your face— you’re so caught up in bickering with the man that you don’t notice the heated stare of another, brows twitching at the way you laugh and play along with Yeonjun.

After a moment though, you feel it— your head is turning before you can really process it, and you’re meeting eyes with Soobin, who looks… well, pissed off.

Before you can get a good look at his face, he’s standing abruptly; taking long strides to where you are, your heart beginning to pound at the sight of him slowing to a stop next to you. 

“Meet me outside.” His voice is gruff and on edge as he whispers the words lowly to you, walking off without another word as you simply turn to watch— because of course he wouldn’t try to get Yeonjun off you or outwardly ask for your attention, choosing instead to relay you a quiet message before he’s off, regardless of the way everyone sends him a confused look as they watch him leave. 

“He looks mad,” Yeonjun hums, watching as you shrug his arm off gently, “Gonna try to talk to him?”

You sigh, hoping he doesn’t see the way your hands grab at the hem of your shirt anxiously. 

“Yeah,” you say, then you’re off, barely able to turn the corner once you’ve exited before you’re harshly pulled by none other than Soobin.

“Ow— what the fuck—!” Soobin’s hold on your wrist is bruising as he pushes you into the room next door, a changing room that’s not meant to hold multiple people as he simply locks the door behind him and pushes you against the wall; he doesn’t bother to turn on the lights as he approaches you— the light that comes through the frosted window on the door becomes the only thing that allows you to see Soobin’s frustrated expression. 

“Had fun flirting with the others?” He asks, his lips so close that you’re able to feel the puff of his breath as he huffs in frustration— the room is so small as you press yourself against the wall, feeling as though Soobin is filling your senses and making you dizzy, “Was that your little way to try and get my attention? Because it fucking worked, you poor little thing.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” you hiss, pressing a hand against Soobin’s chest as you feel him try to swoop in to kiss you, his hands already sliding under the hem of your shirt to trace shapes along your skin, “I’m friends with the others too, you know.”

“Have you always been this friendly with them? Hmm?” he asks, slotting a knee between your legs as you’re left to look up at him speechlessly, “What, gonna try to fuck them next?” 

“Dude, what’s your fucking problem!” you hiss, punctuating your words with a punch to his chest as you glare at him, not lost upon the fact that his thigh is pressed firmly against your cunt, your skirt fanning along his leg and hiding the way he’s flexing and pushing it against you.

“And if I wanted to, then what?” you ask, pretending as though you haven’t given in to the way Soobin’s hands are guiding your hips, making you grind against him as he feels the way you become wet by his actions, “What’ll you do, get jealous? Try to stop me? That wouldn’t be very professional of you— I might as well ask Yeonjun if he’s free after this.”

“Don’t get fucking smart with me,” He says, a hand coming up to grab your cheeks and tilt your head toward him, “I’m not letting any other bitch get with you, touching what’s mine.”

It’s just his arrogance and possessiveness talking again— at least that’s what you tell yourself, failing to hold back your weak whimper as you roll your hips against him, feeling him press against your hip and rut his hard cock against you slowly. 

“I’m not fucking yours,” you grit out, your words muffled as you try to speak through the hold that Soobin still has on you, “The only reason why we’re still friends is so you can get a good fuck, don’t lie—”

Soobin is kissing you before you can finish your sentence— if he wasn’t angry before, he definitely was now, his teeth clashing against yours as he kisses you roughly and without control, a mess of spit as he bites down on your lip, drinking in your pained moan before he’s slipping his tongue in to get a taste.

He’s noticed the way your hips have begun to move erratically; your hands are gripping tightly at his shirt, probably stretching it out as you continue to moan into his mouth, a hand guiding your movements as he flexes and presses his thigh firmer against you, his free hand letting go of your face to slip under your shirt and get access to your breasts as he begins to roll and pinch your nipples between his fingers. 

“Do you like it when I treat you like this?” he asks breathlessly, finally pulling away to watch the way a string of saliva continues to connect you— the sight is filthy and has your brows furrowing as you bite your swollen lips in hopes to muffle your sounds, “Like you’re nothing more than a fucktoy for me to use after my shows? A good little thing to take my stress out on?”

The pleasure is beginning to build up— there’s a tight knot in your stomach, making your brain go foggy as you feel the way your clit rubs against Soobin’s thigh every time you angle your hips a certain way, feeling as you soak your panties and his sweats the longer you rut against him.

Soobin simply watches you with a small smile; his eyes are lidded as he leans back, eyes glued to the way you roll your hips against him, weak whines becoming louder and more frantic as you begin to pull at his shirt with wide, teary eyes. 

But before you can finally cum, he pulls away. You’re whining softly at the loss, hitting his chest petulantly as you curse at him under your breath— before you can land another hit, he grabs your wrists, freezing you entirely as he sends you a sly look, leaning in so he can whisper in your ear.

“You’ll let me fuck you, right? You can always go to someone else if you need to cum,” he says, waiting for your response as he begins to kiss and suck at the spot just under your ear, knowing how sensitive you are as he feels the way you attempt to curl into yourself.

“Fuck you,” you whine out, attempting to shake his hold off you, only to fail— he simply laughs softly, sinking his teeth into the marked flesh as he listens to the yelp you let out. 

“I’m trying,” he huffs out, finally pulling away as he sends you a childish grin, “Now be good and turn around for me, okay sweet thing?”

The nickname catches you so off guard that you don’t protest the way Soobin turns you around without another word, your cheek pressed against the wall and your hands held behind your back as you continue to curse at him quietly— and judging by the way Soobin simply laughs softly, he’s definitely enjoying himself, shameless as ever as you listen to the sounds of shifting behind you.

You hope he doesn’t notice the way your breath hitches as you feel him push your panties aside, his tip brushing against your entrance— swiping at your leaking slit to gather your wetness, clearly teasing you as he takes in the way you try to push back against him, letting out a soft please as you feel his tip sink into you slightly, feeling the way you stretch around him before he’s pulling back out.

“Please? Why are you begging for me, baby?” he asks, slowly beginning to push in as he watches you rest your forehead against the wall, letting out a shaky sigh at the stretch, “I’m not here for you— you can go to another one of your toys if you’re looking for someone to worship you.”

You can’t bring yourself to say anything as you feel him bottom out inside you— no matter how many times you find yourself in this situation, you can never get used to it, the size of him enough to have your eyes rolling back as you feel his tip prod at your cervix, hips flush against your ass as he begins to grind softly into you. 

It’s not enough— not for you, and certainly not for him, though he refuses to give you the pleasure of fucking you stupid so soon as he watches instead the way you begin to squirm, wanting more as you hang your head and try to fuck yourself against him— all attempts are quickly stopped as Soobin uses a hand to still your movement, firm on your waist and forcing you back against the wall as the other continues to bind your hands, pressing your fists against the small of your back and watching with a sly smile as you begin to arch in response. 

“Why are you so quiet?” he asks softly, leaning in to trail kisses along your neck, continuing his slow and agonizing pace, “Usually you’re so loud I have to keep a hand on your mouth.”

You refuse to give into him— refuse to let him hear what he wants, ignoring the ache between your legs and the fire in your stomach that just begs to be put out— but the way you’re leaking around Soobin’s length and clenching around him is giving you away, and it’s enough to have you turning away from him in hopes that he won’t be able to read your expression. 

This proves to be harder than you expected; Soobin’s hand has let go of your waist in favor to play with your clit, nimble fingers circling and pinching the bud as he begins to thrust shallowly, listening to the way you try to swallow your sounds and keep your eyes shut at the feeling— it isn’t long before he’s building you up again, taking in the way your legs shake and you begin to push back against him subconsciously, giving away just how needy you are as your fists tighten. 

You’re close, so fucking close, maybe if you stay quiet Soobin won’t notice— but, for a man who insists you two aren’t anything, he’s eerily aware of the way your body gets when you’re about to cum— meaning, all his movement immediately stops the moment you’re about to tumble over the edge, bottoming out inside you and laughing mockingly as he listens to the broken sound you let out. 

“Fuck, I’m so tired from today’s show,” Soobin groans, resting his forehead on your shoulder, beginning his slow, shallow thrusts again after a moment, “You don’t mind if I take it slow tonight, do you?”

You say nothing— you have yet to say anything that would irritate or please Soobin, and that in itself is enough to egg him on— because even if you refuse to talk, the way your body trembles from his touch and you bite your lips to suppress sounds is enough to tell him all he needs to know. 

The way you clench around Soobin when he begins to play with your clit almost has him cumming— he has to concentrate on not doing so as he takes in the weak whine you let out, your previous orgasms being built up once more as you let out a shaky sigh, listening to the wet sounds that come from the way Soobin fucks you. 

You’re trying so hard to remain neutral as he winds you up— but god, he knows you like the back of his hand, his hips rutting and rolling into you as he does everything to make you go insane, already feeling your high creep up on your from how up-tight your body is. 

“Feels good?” He asks, using your hands as leverage as he pulls you back into him for a particularly harsh thrust— the suddenness of it has you moaning loudly, your lips immediately pressing together as you feel your face grow hot— Soobin’s cocky laugh is both annoying and hot and you hate yourself for feeling that way. 

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to say anything,” he grins, picking up his pace as he watches the way you begin to break, weak moans and whines leaving you from how harshly he thrusts his cock into you, “I’ll do all the work, just stand there and look pretty, okay?”

You can feel your high approaching— it’s intense and fast, and you’re barely able to process the way your mouth falls open as you begin to chase the feeling, ready to fall over the edge and cream all over Soobin’s cock when—-

Like an absolute jerk, he pulls out. 

“You know what?” he says, talking more to himself than anything as he turns you back around and tucks himself back in, your back colliding with the wall behind you as your breath hitches, watching as he falls to his knees and sends you an innocent look, “I haven’t tasted you in so long, baby— fuck, I can’t help myself, I’ll be quick.”

Soobin is never like this— you’ve only ever experienced quickies backstage, so to say that you’re surprised to see the man dragging things out here is an understatement, letting out a shaky sigh as he throws your leg over his shoulder and scoots closer to you, burying himself under your skirt without hesitation. 

You’re practically dripping on the floor— it’s even worse when his fingers begin to prod at your entrance, feeling the way your walls clench wildly at the feeling and your hips thrust toward the sensation; Soobin’s tongue licks at your clit teasingly, taking his time to trace circles around it as he finally sinks his fingers inside you, curling them and pressing against all your sensitive spots as he takes in the way you squirm above him. 

Soobin’s face is practically suffocated by your cunt— you’re not sure how long he does this for, but he proceeds to bring you close to orgasm only to pull away a few more times, listening to the way you begin to cry and plead a bit more with each one. 

At some point— your fifth ruined orgasm, you think you’ve lost count— you find yourself pulling at his hair and begging, the words stuttered out through hiccups as you feel hot tears stream down your cheeks, pleading Soobin to let you cum as you grind your pussy along his face, feeling his tongue dip to your entrance before he’s back to teasing your clit, laughing softly at the sound before he finally emerges from under your skirt— his face is shiny and flushed as he looks up at you, sending you a grin that only has you pouting even more. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, feigning concern as he begins to run his hands along your thighs, waiting patiently for you to respond as he begins trailing kisses up your legs, hearing your soft sniffles as he reaches your inner thighs, “Aren’t you enjoying yourself?”

“Soobin,” you whine, shutting your eyes as you feel his swollen lips leave opened-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, already soaked with your arousal as he licks it up, only to begin biting and sucking at the area leisurely, “Soobin please—please let me cum, wanna cum so bad, please.”

The sound of your begging is welcomed to his ears— he looks up at you through his lashes, sparkling eyes a stark contrast to the filthy way he continues to mark your thighs, ignoring your soft whines that others will see them, please binnie…

“Others will see them?” he repeats, clenching his jaw at the way you nod frantically, a clear concern in your eyes— slowly, he stands, hooking your leg over his waist as he presses himself against you, hissing softly at the way you immediately soak through his sweats, “So what? Let them see. That way they know what happens when we’re alone.”

“But… we shouldn’t— you said we need to keep this hidden…” His words are nothing but confusing— you’re sure it reads on your face, because Soobin is aligning his cock with your entrance once more, chuckling softly at your expression before he shakes his head in exasperation.

“Did I? Well, I don’t wanna hide it anymore,” he says, eyes lidded and filled with need as he sinks himself slowly into you; your eyes are threatening to flutter shut at the sensation, only to be stopped at the feeling of Soobin cupping your chin, telling you softly look at me. before he finally bottoms out.

“Want everyone to know you’re mine,” he says, and you’re more than ready to respond with another mean comment before he continues, “And that I’m all yours. Don’t want anyone else to touch you.”

“W…what—?” your words are being cut short by the feeling of him fucking into you again, a hand coming up to grab his shoulder and your leg pulling him in closer in fear of having your orgasm ruined again— Soobin simply huffs, his hands going to hold onto your hips to fuck into you better, indulging in your fucked out face and dazed eyes as he smiles softly; slowly, he’s leaning in, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. 

“‘m so fucking stupid for starting all this,” he laughs softly, holding back a moan at the way you clench around him, your nails digging into your shoulder slightly, “Told myself I’d never catch any feelings like this— fuck, look at me now…”

“Just wanna keep you for myself— maybe I’m being selfish but… fuck,” you think you’re getting the gist of what he means— your free hand comes up to tangle itself in his hair as you close the gap between the two of you, hoping that you’re not misinterpreting his words as you feel him fuck you faster, setting a rhythm that has your eyes rolling back and your mouth falling open, so wound up from tonight that you think your legs might give out any moment now. 

“Soobin,” you whine out, pulling at his hair and shirt as you begin bucking your hips at him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock as you whine, “Please let me cum— please please please, need it so bad, just wanna cum, please?”

The way you’re whining and begging is more than enough to Soobin; he’s gripping your hips and fucking you harder, eyes widening slightly at the way your sounds increase in volume, too fucked dumb to even realize.

“Shit,” Soobin grits out, planting his hand on your mouth and telling you to quiet down, “You were really holding back, huh? There’s my girl, all loud and pretty for me.”

He’s cooing softly at the way tears well up in your eyes and spill promptly after; running over his skin, biting at his lip to suppress sounds of his own as he feels the way you become impossibly tight around him.

“You gonna cum? Pretty doll just wants to cream my cock, finally had enough of me using you, right?” The way you’re nodding mindlessly only spurs Soobin on, insanely turned on by the way you’ve become fucked stupid, “Come on baby, show me how good you feel, been waiting patiently to cum, such a perfect doll.”

He’s cooing softly and talking you through your orgasm— you don’t even realize that your legs have given out, and Soobin’s hands are flying to support you as he holds you up, pressing himself fully against you and grinding his hips into you as your head falls on his shoulder; your sounds are muffled by the fabric of his hoodie as you bury your head further into him, pressed entirely against the wall and left to Soobin’s mercy as you allow him to continue rutting into you slowly.

“Binnie,” you whine out, right next to his ears as you begin to speak quietly to him, “Want you to cum inside, fill me up please? Never wanted any other guys but you, just wanna feel you cum inside, please…”

Your soft pleas set Soobin off immediately— his hips are bucking into you so roughly that your body is jolting with every thrust, his head burying itself in your neck as he lets out a soft groan— you then feel the way he fills you up, warm cum staying inside from the way he continues to fuck you well after he’s calmed down, his shuddering breaths on your skin enough to know that how sensitive he is.

For a moment, you just stay there; pressed against the wall as Soobin slowly pulls his cock out of you, feeling the way his release begins to drip out from how much he filled you— your chest is heaving against his as you attempt to catch your breath, legs still weak as you take advantage of Soobin’s strength to help hold you up. 

Soobin’s arms wrap around your waist; he’s pulling you in even closer, your bodies melting together as he nuzzles his head into your neck, inhaling slowly as your own hesitant hands come up to embrace Soobin.

“Sorry I was so horrible to you,” he says, littering kisses on the exposed skin of your neck before he continues, “But I did mean that whole thing about catching feelings— the timing’s horrible, I know— but….”

You hum softly, as though lost in thought, “How long have you felt like this?”

“I… this whole time,” he admits, his face growing hotter at the confession, “I was just in denial half the time we did this whole thing— god, why do you think I suggested it in the first place…?”

You hold back a laugh— Soobin however, is nervous at your lack of reaction, pulling away from his hiding place to analyze your expression.

“I’m sorry. Is this weird? I understand if you don’t feel the same way, I’m really sorry if you felt uncomfortable with anything I did today, I seriously don’t know what I was thinking—“

You’re cutting him off with a kiss— but it’s gentle this time, and you really take a moment to feel his soft lips as you feel him smile against you, his cheeks warm under your touch as you finally pull away. 

“Soobin,” you say softly, smiling fondly at the way he lets out a soft hmm? in response, “I feel the same. But yeah, you were a fucking jerk with me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, cupping your face as he sports the look of a kicked puppy, eyes filled with nothing but guilt, “I’m sorry, I seriously never meant to go that far, I should’ve just asked you out like a normal person instead of being so mean.”

“I don’t know,” you say, pouting softly as his eyes widen softly, seemingly afraid of what you might say; you simply peck at his lips chastely, unable to hold back your laugh at his expression, “I kinda liked it.”

Your words are horribly confusing to Soobin— but hey, at least he knows how you feel. 

[thecollectionoffanfics]

May we have a badly injured Sebastian and we’re the only scientists that truly cared for him? (Plot twist we died during the lockdown lol)

Oooh yeah! Angst!

Sebastian's third arm sustained a huge gash on it when he was slithering towards you. You also noticed that he had a huge gash on his torso as well. "Please help me." He begs, you not hesitating to grab the medkit to treat his wounds. You were the only scientist that ever cared about him.

After patching him up, he thanks you. The whole facility was dark except for the room you and him were in. He had his light on, making it easier for you to see him and easier for him to see you. He was the one who caused the lockdown. You weren't supposed to care for him.

But here you are, doing so anyways. As a door opens, Sebastian his behind you, turning off his light so it would be harder for anyone else to see him. "Dr. {Last Name}, where is Z-13?" You shrug. "Donno, I didn't see him pass by."

"That's odd, I thought I saw it come in here did it not?" You shake your head. "Nope, didn't see him." The person leaves the room. Sebastian was safe again.

You smile up at Sebastian before telling him that you had to go to make sure nothing else happens. He didn't want you to go but he let you go. That was until he heard your screams. He slithered towards where he heard your screams and he was horrified at what he saw. You lying on the floor, bleeding out.

He began to sob over you, screaming out your name. It was already too late, you were dead. He lost the one scientist who truely cared about him.

Yay angst! Anyways hope you enjoyed this!

Divider by @/cafekitsune