#things like tearing off his crystals and stabbing himself

[thefandomthings]

Zuko x reader

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Betrayal

Hurt prompt #11: "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Pairing: Zuko x F/Gn!reader

Warnings: Angst, No comfort, Established relationship, !!SPOILERS¡¡, Takes place in Book 2. Ep. 18

Notes: Oh boy, I have so many avatar requests, it's amazing. Thank you guys for participating in my event it makes me so happy! Tell me if y'all want a part 2.

Prompt Event Part 1 Part 2

All you felt was pain, deep inside your chest. Watching your boyfriend take sides against the avatar once again was brutal. What made it even worse was Iroh was to be imprisoned, you would hold the same fate if you were captured.

You stood next to Katara and Aang, Azula and Zuko on the opposite side of the cave. Azula held the same malicious grin on her face, watching the three of you with smugness.

"My, my Y/n. You seem so down, how sad." She mocks you with a slight chuckle. Zuko gives her a glare, his eyes wandering back to you. They are full of guilt, pleading for forgiveness from you. Practically begging you to understand why he did it, to come with him.

"Leave Y/n alone, Azula." Zuko grunts, getting in a fighting stance with his sister. Azula clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes at her brother.

"They're the enemy now, Zuzu. Can't protect them forever." Azula laughs, blue fire erupting from her fists.

The blue flurries of fire woosh past you fastly. Katara quickly blocks the fire with her water. Using her octopus arms she slashes and whips at Azula, both going back and forth. The ground beneath the five of you shakes and cracks.

Aang and Zuko are going at it hand to hand. You watch out of the corner of your eye as Zuko takes a hit by Aangs wind, sending him flying back into one of the crystal pillars. Your heart stops, skipping a beat as Zuko groans.

You curse under your breath and run towards him, Aang is calling your name frantically. You slid against the rock surface and get the few rocks that landed on Zuko off. He lets out a huff of air, the weight of the rock off of his chest allowing him to breath.

He's quick to sit up, using his hands, he does a walk over away from you. Your heart felt like it was stabbed, watching as he gets in a protective stance. He knows you'd never hurt him on purpose, and he'd never hurt you.

"Why are you doing this, Zuko? Why are you so desperate to gain your honor back?" Your voice is meek, tears gathering at your waterline, blurring his figure.

"You know why I have to, Y/n. This is my chance to prove to my father I am worthy."

Zukos heart physically aches, seeing your tears making him question everything. He never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to put strain on your relationship. You're his everything, you've been with him since the beginning along with Iroh. Loving him even when he didn't love himself.

"But Zuko, when you get home and see your father, will he even except you? What if he hurts you again, or what if he tries to kill you?" You plead, knowing this isn't him. He's just confused and fighting himself.

Zuko stays quiet, thinking over your words carefully. You have a point. His father could easily do all of those things, Azula to. Does he really want to go through with this? Having Uncle imprisoned, possibly you too?

He closes his eyes tightly, fists clenched at his side. He lets out a long breath, salty tears slide down his cheeks as he looks back up at you again.

"He won't. I'm sorry Y/n. You can't change my mind. I'm going home." He lifts his fists back into a defensive stance, hands trembling.

"Please...Please forgive me."

You let out a strangled sob at his words, heart clenching and shattering. Zuko grits his teeth, holding back his own cries.

"Get out of here, before Azula realizes I haven't killed you." Without realizing it, Zuko was beside you. Taking you into his arms, he holds you as close as he can. His lips pressing multiple kisses to your head. His nose buried in your hair, taking in your shampoo scent one last time.

"Does this mean you don't love me anymore? Since you're leaving?" You asked, face hidden in his neck, tears hitting his skin like rain. Zuko squeezes you softly, kissing the apples of your cheeks.

"That not what I meant, Y/n. And you know it." He pulls away from you, taking a few steps back to create distance.

Water then wraps around his waist sending him flying. You scream his name as Katara takes you in her arms. You sob holding onto Katara as she sees you down.

"It'll be alright, Y/n. I promise." She hugs you tightly, the sound of wind echos in the cave as Aang enters the avatar state. Suddenly lighting cracks, blue electricity shoots towards Aang. Shooting into his back like a spear.

"AANG!" You and Katara race towards him, watching as he falls, his body is lifeless. Katara catches him, tears falling from her eyes. You use your bending to keep the three of you protected as Katara holds Aang and bends up the waterfall.

Zuko watches as the love of his life disappears. He lets out a sob, his fist pounding the ground.

He's sorry. So, so sorry. He never wanted to hurt you, cause you this much pain. Yet he has, and he might never, ever be able to fix it.

He hopes you're safe, and he'll come and find you when the time is right before it's to late.

[ahllohehn]

can we get a small story about Scott and his brother?

"If we had found each other before Eris did, would things have been different?"

Xornoth opened his eyes to see Scott look down on him blankly, his darkened, dry hands held gently by Scott's bloodied ones.

The daemon ascended demigod unsurprisingly didn't have the energy to do another villainous monologue, the corruptive haze he's been living with since his failed ascension was beginning to leave his brain as he slowly approached his incoming death.

Xornoth's magenta eyes looked up at the darkening sky, somehow uncomfortable about looking at his twin, "Probably not," he replied honestly, "I still would've been as selfish as I am now. I still would've forced an acension. I still would've failed it."

Yes, he still would've been the same corrupted entity he is now. A being who couldn't even live with his own soul, having to resort to putting a piece of himself on Scott to have some sort of root to the mortal world.

Scott inhaled shakily, holding back his tears that were welling up in the corner of his eyes from the pain of his self-inflicted stab wound and having to watch his own twin go weak in his arms, "You're dumb," he spat.

Xornoth shrugged weakly, "That's why we're twins."

Scott chuckled raspily then went silent. Xornoth couldn't do much anymore as both of the brothers watched each of his limbs fizzling out to the air like dust. It reminded the two how Xornoth was nothing like the demigod he was born as, now left as some kind of entity equalling to a monster.

With what energy he had left, the failed daemon spoke again.

"Live. You still have others waiting for you," Xornoth breathed out, reaching out to cover a hand over Scott's wound, his Achilles Heel, a magenta like aura emitting as the demigod of Venus hissed at the overwhelming sour feeling on his stab wound, "Elysium is out of my reach, but you will do."

The corrupted being smiled, looking less creepy than he normally did as a small part of his original form was peeking out of the veiny shadows that hugged his entire figure.

"Find peace for me, won't you? A little taste of it would be enough."

Xornoth had said before his body fizzled off into the air like how a Tartatus monster would. The only sign of him ever being there was the magenta crystal embedded into Scott's skin. Where his wound would've been is now replaced with a solid gem.

The light haired demigod then passed out.

[mrskreideprinz]

| Damage Control |

Pairing: Shigaraki x Oc!Juliet

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Canon x Oc, This is not an x reader, Selfship Coded, Juliet goes by It/Its & She/Her pronouns, Shigaraki goes by He/Him pronouns, Graphic Violence, Murder, Blood, Toxic Relationship Dynamics, Death/Death Mention, Parent Loss, Implied Past Abuse, Stabbing, 1.6k words. 

A/n: I thought this would be a very interesting way to introduce my oc Juliet. Please heed the warnings before reading <3

Summary: When Shigaraki and the League witness a darker side to Juliet, they begin to wonder more about who exactly it is. 

Tags: @auphelia @suyacho @tighnarly

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dabi yelled, raising a hand to burn the nameless villain which had started to run head first towards him. “Watch where you aim that thing, Shigaraki.” 

Shigaraki pays no mind to Dabi’s complaint, only making sure to stay out of his way as he disintegrates another low level villain. He launches at the villain and raises a hand which he presses fiercely against the man’s face. Shigaraki grumbles, looking around him to see where Juliet had gone. It had gone out of his sight for quite some time and knowing his girlfriend.. Well, let’s just say it would be better if he located it soon. 

“Where’s Juliet?” Shigaraki asked himself, looking around him with a scowl on his face.

The other league members are busy holding off the villains when Shigaraki turns around to see Juliet fighting off one of the villains and it isn’t until he sets his eyes on it that he lets out a sigh of relief. Although he learns very quickly that there was something unsettling about the display he saw before him. Usually he’d let Jiuliet handle itself, because it could hold its own, but things didn’t seem right. 

He finished off any remaining villains before meeting up with Juliet. Shigaraki wanted to say something, he had half a mind to pull it to the side and ask her what was wrong, but he knew better than to embarrass it like that. If he’d done that he would never hear the end of it from Juliet, nor does he want to deal with that side of it. He gives her a look, watching as it scowled at him before rolling its eyes.

“Don’t.” It spits back. “I’m fine, Tomura.” 

Although he is far from convinced, he gives it some space. Shigaraki acts as Juliet’s shield as it thinks through their next move, standing behind her as it mumbles something to itself. Then all of a sudden the man that stood in front of it grins and says something heinous. Tomura’s mouth falls open a little as the words shoot into his brain like a penetrative bullet. He can tell that Juliet is also a little taken back. A little was an understatement, though. Shigaraki watched as Juliet’s body froze. In anger? Fear? At first glance he couldn’t tell but eventually it became crystal clear that it was a mixture of both. Juliet clenched her fists at its side before lunging at the man and stabbing him in the neck. It let out a guttural scream as it sliced the man’s throat open, only getting off of him once it heard the sound of the man choking on his own blood. 

It stared down at the man writhing in his own blood until he inevitably succumbed to his injuries. Juliet clenched the bloody knife in its hand, nose flared and eyes blown wide with a feeling that Tomura could only describe as pure rage. Juliet then climbed on top of the man’s body and stabbed him repeatedly in the head. The other’s finished off the remainder of the group, leaving Tomura to watch in shock before they noticed what was going on. The League carefully walked towards Juliet and Shigaraki, most of them keeping their distance except for Dabi and Toga. Toga watched to the side close to Juliet as it continued violating the blood and maimed corpse with tears burning in its eyes. Dabi and Shigaraki exchanged a look before Shigaraki stepped forward, kneeling beside Juliet and placing a comforting hand on its shoulder.

“Juliet, he’s dead. You’re good, you can stop.” He said firmly. His voice was soft but there was clear evidence of worry laced within it. 

It ignored Tomura and continued stabbing the corpse until Shigaraki grabbed her wrist and clenched firmly it so that she would stop what she was doing. Juliet jerked her head and glared at her boyfriend, who watched with a stoic expression.

“Let go of me.” Juliet spat, not caring about the consequences of its actions. 

Shigaraki did not let go, in fact he tightened his grip, still making sure to leave a pinkie raised. “Stop it, this is overkill.” He paused. “He’s just some npc anyway.” 

He could see the swirling of conflicting emotions spinning in Juliet’s eyes. It was not itself, an entirely different person, someone Shigaraki did not recognize anymore. He had to intervene, there was no other choice, not unless he wanted to watch his girlfriend become an entirely distorted version of itself. 

“It’s over, we’re going home.” Shigaraki stated. 

Juliet looked at the ground and then back at Tomura. “Fine.” It grabbed Shigaraki’s hand and lifted itself up from the ground.

After Kurogiri managed to warp the entire League back to the hideout they all watched with uncomfortable expressions as Juliet walked into its room and shut the door behind it. The entire League except for Dabi left and went off to occupy themselves so as to not deal with that, but Dabi leaned against the bar and let out a sigh. 

“Go after it you idiot.” Dabi groans.

He looks at Shigaraki who looks at Dabi and then back at the closed door belonging to Juliet’s room. 

“What the fuck just happened?” Shigaraki asks, still unsure about what he had witnessed.

“Fuck if I know.” Dabi says,as he takes out a pack of cigarettes and smacking the top of it against the palm of his hand. 

There’s a pause before Dabi speaks again.

“What did happen back there?” Dabi asks, thinking back to the gruesome sight of Juliet stabbing the man she killed. It reminded him of a human morphing into some sort of disturbing monster, but his friend was anything but. 

“I don’t know.” Shigaraki admits.

Dabi lit his cigarette and watches as Shigaraki walks towards the door leading to Juliet’s room. Shigaraki knocks on the door as he slowly walks in and shuts the door behind him. Shigaraki couldn’t deny that he was a tad uneasy about confronting Juliet. Walking in he saw the difficult sight of it laying in bed curled up in one of her comforters. It did not move, made no noise, and didn’t even acknowledge Tomura. 

“Hey.” Tomura said, announcing his presence in its room. 

Juliet remains still, not moving a single muscle. Tomura walks over and sits on the bed beside Juliet, he places a hand on its calf and begins rubbing it gingerly. The room was silent for a while. Juliet grit her teeth as tears fell down her cheeks, all those triggered emotions finally boiling to the surface.

“Just go away, Tomura.” 

Tomura does not move and instead tightens his grip on Juliet’s leg. Juliet had half of mind to curse him out but ultimately chose against it. The last thing it needed was for it to feel guilt for something else on top of everything else. 

“Why did that guy know you?” Tomura asked gently.

No response.

“Who was he, Juliet?” He asked, just wanting to find some way to get through to his girlfriend.

Juliet hugged her body, squeezing it tightly as tears fell down its face. “Go away.”

“No.” He replied. “Stop bein’ a fuckin’ brat.”  

Still no response.

“Fine.” It snaps back. “You really wanna know, Tomu?” 

Tomura says nothing and instead waits for Juliet’s reply. He watches it with a surprisingly calm expression. Although he has his own opinion in the matter, he keeps it to himself, knowing that the man Juliet killed was indeed someone from her past. 

Juliet takes a deep, shaky breath before speaking. “That was the man that killed my mother.” She admits, looking away.

Juliet turns her head away from Tomura who was now reaching out to place a gentle hand on her face. Neither of them say anything to each other, allowing the silence to fill the room. Juliet enjoyed the silence for the most part, but it felt it had to explain itself, tell Tomura what she meant by her words. Yes, the man had killed its mother, but it was a lot more complicated than that.. Juliet’s mother was never much of a mother to it, barely even a kind person, but that didn’t take away the horror she felt when it locked eyes with the man that ended her mother’s life that night. Juliet was starting to forget the vision of her mother’s bruised and bloodied face, and while on one hand it served as a relief, it also caused her inexplicable panic and dread. For, that was the only clear memory of her mom she had left. What would Juliet do if it could no longer remember her face? How could it live with itself? 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tomura finally asks.

As much as Juliet didn’t want to forget, the thought of discussing the ins and outs of her most impactful memory did not sound like a good time. 

“No, not yet. I think.. I think I need more time.” It pauses momentarily. “Thank you, though. For everything, Tomu.”

Juliet smiles and then turns to face Tomura with a weak smile. He gives it a caring smile in return as all his worries of her return to the very forefront of his mind. Tomura would have to keep a closer eye on Juliet from now on and for the first time in a very long time, he was scared. 

[mochiwrites]

“Grian, please–”

“No Mumbo! You don't get it!”

Mumbo sighed softly. “..you're right. I don't. So please, Grian, just tell me.” He looked at the avian with worried eyes.

“I killed you!” Grian burst out. “With my bare hands!” He was crying, tear stains on his cheeks.

“Grian–”

“And I didn't even feel bad!” Grian hiccuped, clutching himself. “How... how can you love somebody that did that to you..?”

Do with that what you will ;]

do with that what you will, you say? 👀 okay! I meant to get to this a lot sooner whoops

“Oh, G…” his voice trails off very quietly as he takes a step toward the shaking avian. He’s watching Grian’s expression very carefully, seeing the way his face falls and caves in from guilt and his tears.

Mumbo can count the number of times he’s seen Grian cry on one hand. He knows the other isn’t really a crier, not unless his emotions truly overwhelm him. He hasn’t seen Grian cry often, but each time it still makes his chest ache just as much as the first time it did.

Grian stiffens in his arms as Mumbo embraces him, holding him close. Comfortingly, Mumbo runs his hand along the space between Grian’s wings, a touch that is gentle. “Mumbo..?” Grian stammers in response, his confusion clear in his voice.

“If you think I’ve held any of that against you, you’re rather silly, mate,” Mumbo murmurs to him. He lets out a little awkward chuckle, “I mean, I know I wasn’t the most dangerous guy in that game, but honestly I didn’t feel all that bad about blowing people up with the end crystals.”

It’s probably the first time he’s admitted it to anyone that wasn’t his ceiling in the middle of the night, but he thinks it’s only fair. Grian is being open, being vulnerable with him. It’s only right that Mumbo gives that same vulnerability back.

Grian huffs a little, and Mumbo feels his hands clutch at the fabric of his suit jacket. “Blowing people up and stabbing my boyfriend are two very different things, Mumbo,” Grian returns.

“Probably,” Mumbo weakly laughs. “But I had a point I’m trying to make here, Gri.” He holds him a little closer, a little tighter. Grian molds against him easily, pressing farther against Mumbo, face still wet with tears and body still trembling. “You might have killed me, but given the circumstances I think it was a little warranted? I mean, I did go after you first.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Grian mumbles against him.

“Hmm, maybe not in the long run,” Mumbo hums. “But like I said, everything that happened? I don’t hold any of it against you. I know you, Grian. I know that you’re a lovable menace, and incredibly pesky. You prank people for fun and a good laugh, but when it goes too far you do whatever you can to help them out. You’re a rather kind person.”

Grian buries his face into Mumbo’s shoulder as he holds him tighter. He’s trembling in Mumbo’s arms all over again, and Mumbo can feel a slight dampness on his shoulder.

“I think we can both agree that those games are statistical errors and shouldn’t be counted,” Mumbo jokes. He gets a muffled laugh from Grian. He smiles. “I know you, G. And that’s why I love you. I’ve never once held anything you did in that game against you. In fact I think I forgave you the moment we got back to Hermitcraft, honestly.”

“I don’t deserve it,” Grian mutters to him, and Mumbo shakes his head.

“I think you do.” He moves to press a kiss to Grian’s hair. “And I’ll say it however many times I need to until you believe it yourself.”

Grian melts against him, pressing as close as he possibly can. “You’re a spoon,” he says.

Mumbo laughs at that, offering Grian another little kiss. “So I’ve been told!”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[purrbangtann]

The mirror.🪞

Fallen angel!darkyandere!Jungkook x angel!oc

Warnings: Jk is cuckoo as usual, Jk insults oc, violence, dark themes, oc gets abused, knife and blood, non-con touching (non-sexual), crying, I think that’s it…

This is super long like…a good 3.8K words that feel like 6K

Disclaimer: THIS IS PURE FICTION, I don’t believe any of the BTS members engage in such activities, this is for entertainment purposes only, any ressemblance to real life is coincidental.

If one of my drafts doesn’t have any violence or blood in it, is it really my draft?

Context:

Adah is a angel, a pure angel, white wings but no halo.

Jungkook is a fallen angel who deceived Adah and her friends into think that he was a angel like them, so that he could get closer to her.

When he found himself close to her, she eventually fell in love with the character he had been pretending to be. I mean he wasn’t pretending..he just warped his character around a bit

To him, being close to Adah was a complete privilege but he wasn’t the only one who realized it. He easily spotted her best friend looking at her out of the corner of her eyes in jealousy. Luckily for Adah, the last time she looked at anyone out of the side of her was when Jungkook plucked out her feathers one by one and stabbed them into her eyes right after😁.

Adah slowly found herself losing friends after every little altercation, “Did you hear? Unica died of asphyxia, somehow she shoved a whole wig into her throat.” Adah sighed, this can’t be right, she wouldn’t have killed herself just because I told her she was weird for assuming that I was wearing a wig…right?

Adah closed herself off as she started to believe that she was the reason, that she was the problem. She ended up crying in Jungkook’s arms everyday, being embraced by his arms everyday until he once whispered a terrifying phrase in her ears,

“Don’t cry, they deserved it. All of them.”

———

Adah grabbed the floor under her, “You can’t trap me here Helios!” She yelled.

She bit her lip and looked around, she was trapped in a dark place, the only thing she could see was a mirror, in which she couldn't see her reflection, but the room that once belonged to to her.

She tried to charge on the mirror, but she got forcefully pushed back and fell on the ground.

She was on her knees with her hands on the ground, a single crystal clear tear falling, evaporating as soon as it touched the ground.

She was still in shock, her friends were dead.

Because of her. Or because of him.. she couldn’t wrap her head around it.

A figure appeared in the mirror and sat down infront of it.

"Helios, let me out, please." She pleaded.

Helios smirked.

"I already told you it isn't Helios, darling.

It's Jungkook."

---

Five minutes timeskip..

"Stop staring at me." Adah said while looking at the ground.

She refused to look at Jungkook, but that didn't stop him from being happy seeing her being dependent on him.

"But you look so pretty in this lighting." Jungkook replied.

Adah's hands balled up into fists as she clenched her jaw, "The Council will find out I'm missing." She whispered.

Jungkook stood up and entered the mirror, "Will they?"

Adah clenched her jaw and glanced away, the council and its system was flawed. Especially for angels that were of Adah’s race (Sentiunts)…I mean they don’t even have tastebuds or can grow wings with their powers. They were weak.

Shivers traveled her spine as her name rolled off his tongue, her weak wings tried to cover her but Jungkook brutally pinned them both on the ground, causing Adah to let out a soft groan, "Don't force me to get violent, qui sentit." He threatened.

(Sentiunts , Adah’s race (those who feel) Qui sentit is basically dehumanizing term for them🙂)

Adah's eyes darkened, "I’m pretty sure that’s racist and…No violence of yours can amount to the pain you've already caused me, Jungkook." She spoke.

Jungkook's face got closer to Adah's, until they had a tiny inch between them, "Don't jinx it sweet heart." He sweetly whispered through his pink lips.

Angry tears slowly built up in Adah's eyes, Jungkook planted a soft kiss on her forehead, "Don't try to rub it off, I'll know." He said as he got out of the mirror.

As soon as Jungkook went out of the room to get her a meal, she tore some fabric from her dress and tried to wipe it off, but the fabric disingrated into non-existence with some electric zap sound following it. “Where did it go..” she murmured while staring at her now empty hands.

She leaned against the bed Jungkook put in the dark room where she was residing. The room was like a box, with only two light sources, the mirror and Adah's heart.

But even she was getting corrupted by the dark shadow world Jungkook banished her to.

----

Meal time.

"I made your favorite." Jungkook said as he placed the tray just infront Adah's side of the mirror, without leaving his.

He looked up and saw Adah, curled up in a ball, sliently sniffing.

He took a sharp inhale and walked up to her, processing the scene.

Why is she crying.

I've never seen her cry like this before.

Why?

Isn't she happy with me?

Don't worry Adah.

I'll make you love me.

----

Nzikisa ngai na yoka nzoto❤️‍🔥. “Burn me, so that I may feel my body.”

He squatted down and took her in a tight embrace, even though she was protesting she eventually stopped.

"Adah, don't cry, this is the best for the both of us." He whispered.

Adah's soft sobbing stopped as she wiped her face dry. "....Don't even try to touch me." She expressed in a soft tone.

Jungkook's eyes slightly widened at Adah's sudden change of vocabulary towards him. The Adah he knows wouldn't ever say such a thing to him, never.

"Im sorry, care to repeat yourself?"

Adah tried to move away but Helios grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him, "I'm trying to be nice to you, Adah." He inhaled sharply, "But you aren't making it easy."

(Helios and Jungkook are the same person.)

"Jungkook, you're hurting me." Adah said.

Helios didn't loosen up his grip, instead he made it tighter and got closer to her, "I know I'm hurting you, princess." He confessed.

He tilted his head to the side.

"But dont you see? I love you and I know you love me too, even if you refuse to admit it." He said.

Adah blankly stared at Jungkook,

"You're delusional." She said.

Jungkook smiled, "If my delusions got me next to you now, then yes. I am delusional."

"Just get away from me." Adah said as she tried scooting away from him. He tried to grab her wrist but she slapped away his hand, giving him a 3rd degree burn.

Helios hissed and glared at Adah, who was already trying to hide in the dark.

Angels aren’t even allowed to interact with fallen angels, so when a angel touches a fallen angel on certain places they burn them and vice versa.

He stood up and grabbed her sleeve with his non-burnt hand, "You're going to regret that."

---- time skip.

Jungkook rested his head on Adah's shoulder while looking at her, he sniffed her neck, taking in every single piece of her essence and filling up his lungs with it.

They were already sitting on the ground again, but this time with a different aura surrounding the two of them.

He slowly traced his finger over Adah's now bruised, bare arm, forcing out a weak smile at every tremble and shiver Adah had in response of his touch.

“I can’t touch your hand..but it looks so soft darling, I’m scared I won’t be able to help myself.”

He put his hand next to hers and imagined them intertwined.

Adah stayed mute.

"...Adah, please talk to me." He pleaded.

Adah looked at Jungkook's hand beside hers and pulled her hand away.

Jungkook rested his head in the crook of Adah's neck and planted a few kisses along her jawline, "You know I never like hurting you, but you get a little bit feisty sometimes." He said.

"...." still no response from Adah.

Adah, is very soft spoken, so people tend to cross some limits with her sometimes, but they also regret it, quickly. If you asked a description of Adah, they'd recite you the dictionary's definition of pure….and naive

Jungkook looked at Adah, she was staring out into the void as a scarlet liquid traveled from her nose to her soft plump lips, to her chin and dripped on her plain turquoise dress. She didn't even bother to wipe it nor to cry.

Her puffy eyes from an entire night without sleep contradicted her big pupils that used to shine like stars in the moonlight, her long eyelashes that fluttered every time someone complimented her, Her eyebrows that conveyed her emotions in gentle but strong ways into people's heart.

Jungkook softly turned Adah's face towards him, "Adah~" He whispered.

Adah's eyes glanced at him but wandered off. Jungkook clinged onto her bruised arm, causing Adah's breath to hitch in pain.

"Adah, don't you know how much this hurts me? Just give into me, love." He pleaded.

Adah, in spite of her being faced to Jungkook, she still easily avoided eye contact with him.

"Adah, stop ignoring me." He firmly said.

Adah layed down on the ground out of exhaustion, causing one of her bare breasts to almost get out of the dress. Since her fight with Helios, her dress lost its right sleeve, the left sleeve was partially torn off and her modest collar got reduced to a décolleté. (low v-neck)

Jungkook crawled next to her and layed down infront of her, still forcing her to look at him,

"Do you want me to beg? Then I'll beg for you, please." He begged.

Adah blankly stared at him, Jungkook couldn't figure out what was playing out in her head but he knew it wasn't good.

He got closer to Adah and wiped the blood on her lips away with his thumb. "Adah..please? I can’t get those images out of my head…I’m sorry." He negociated.

Adah looked at the stars she could see out of jungkooks window on his side, trying to block Helios out of her ears.

"Adah just talk to me, please!" Helios yelled.

He pulled her up and sat next in front of her, “Adah..please I’m sorry.” He whispered. He started to tell out her name as if she had died, she right was right in front of him, staring at him with a certain blankness that was unfamiliar to her face.

"I'm sorry I’m sorry, please I- I’m sorry." He pleaded.

He cupped her face and pecked her lips repeatedly, trying to get a reaction from her, but nothing.

Adah looked at Helios with a glint of pity and boredom consuming her eyes.

Adah's mouth gaped open as if she was about to say something, but she closed it.

His large black wings came out and flared up, showing an experience of intense emotions circulating through Jungkook's body.

"Burn me, yell at me, curse me, just- just do something!" Jungkook begged, his wings stretching out further and further at each point.

His broken voice echoed all over the room, hurting Adah’s ears.

Adah looked at the veins popping out of his neck and his red knuckles that matched the stains on her blue turquoise dress.

Adah looked down, pretty much ignoring the scene infront of her. Helios lifted up his shirt and pressed Adah's hand against his obliques, he didn't even cry out a yell from the pain, the excess adrenaline in his body didn't allow him to do anything except let out painful moans.

Adah tried to pull her hand back as it also began to burn her, she didn't want burn him in the first place.

When she finally got to pull her hand away she saw a 3rd degree burn shaped like a handprint where her hand was pressed against, she looked at her hand and she had a mild burn on her palm, but it was nothing compared to the burn Jungkook had, his skin surface on the burn had turned black and had a hole inside of it, in the hole we could see multiple skin layers that shouldn't be exposed.

She gasped and scooted away from Jungkook. Jungkook on the other hand, was smiling at the sight of his burn. "When it heals it'll be magnificent, but not as much like you." He imagined.

Jungkook dropped his shirt and sat down next to Adah, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, causing her to flinch.

"....I'm sorry my dear, I should learn how to control myself, shouldn’t I?" He softly said.

Adah narrowed her eyes at Jungkook's attitude, his mood swings were too much for Adah to deal with him.

"....Just talk to me, please, the last words I heard from you were screams, please." Jungkook begged.

Adah sniffed back the blood that was threating to leave her nostrils again, "Um....hurmfph."

That's it, Adah only made some mouth noises as she contemplated talking again, she absolutely didn't want to. But who knows what Helios would've done to her if she continued ignoring him.

Helios got closer to Adah and started kissing her, but Adah started moving her head, refusing to even be touched by him again.

Helios pulled away and looked at Adah, "Adah, I've been very patient with you, don't you think?" He falsely declared, "So maybe you could try to be good for me, for once." He proposed.

Adah turned her head to the opposite side, not wanting to even look at him.

"I'm speaking Adah, it's only right for you to look at me." He said.

After all, the Adah he knows wouldn't forget her manners.

Helios cupped her cheek and forcibly turned her head towards him, "Adah, Ignoring me like this won't do you justice." He said.

He looked into her eyes and saw that was still focused on the same object for the last 10 minutes now.

The glass shards and broken plates that were where the food tray used to be.

"...Oh I get it, you're hungry." Jungkook said followed by a soft chuckle.

"I know how grumpy you get when you're hungry, stay here." Jungkook got out of the mirror and went to go fix up a meal for her again.

(A/N: he’s telling a locked up girl to stay where she is?💀 mans is messed up fam😭)

As soon as Jungkook left, Adah grabbed the biggest glass shard she could see, and slid it into her panties.

She knew he wouldn't find out because even if it doesn't seem like it, Jungkook had boundaries when it came to physical touch, never in a million years could his hand travel lower than Adah's abdomen without any consent. Those were the only type of morals and principles he'd keep.

Barely.

---

"Here, you must be very hungry." Jungkook placed the tray infront of Adah.

Adah pushed the plate to where the food tray used to be and left it there.

Jungkook was confused at her action and sat down, "Why aren't you eating?" He asked.

Adah turned her body away from the plate and Jungkook, her back facing him.

"Adah, I can't let you starve to death, huh?" Jungkook tried to sympathize.

Adah dropped her head into her knees and pretty much isolated herself.

"Adah, eat." Helios ordered.

Adah ignored him again.

Jungkook went and shoved the bowl infront of her, "I couldn't make your favorite again because you ruined the first one." He said.

Adah looked in the bowl, it was soup but her reflection was nowhere to be seen.

Jungkook got closer to the bowl and put the spoon inside, leading the soup filled spoon towards her mouth, flashing Adah a weak smile as she glanced at him.

“Adah..” he quietly whined.

She slowly closed her eyes and reopened them, putting her face back against her knees.

His eyebrows raised a bit, “Please don’t force me to get mean..” he whispered.

No response from Adah.

He sighed,

“Fine I tried.”

He pulled Adah's hair towards him and snaked his arm around her neck, having her into a headlock.

Adah's wings pryed out of her back, fluttering uncontrollably out of defense, she scratched Jungkook's arm with her nails to force him to remove his arm from her neck, She still didn't speak, only grunts and whimpers were heard from her part. He pulled his arm closer to his chest, practically choking Adah.

He took the bowl and poured it into her mouth, even with the soup that was getting spilled, enough of it entered her mouth for her not to die or faint from starvation.

Adah grabbed his hand, burning his fingers.

Jungkook groaned and pinned Adah’s wrist down in response.

When the bowl finished it contents, Helios loosened his grip on Adah's neck and panted, "See? That wasn't that bad, was it?" He asked.

Adah whimpered and Jungkook slowly traced his fingers along her collarbones, "Don't hate me for this baby, but...." He said.

"You should be feeling something by now." He calculated.

Adah coughed, then coughed again. A series of uncontrollable coughs followed

"Don't worry, it'll pass." Jungkook said

-- 5 minutes later

Adah is still coughing but it has gotten softer and less regular, her coughs became bloody and started to become gags.

The soup still wasn’t cleaned up and had dried it’s leftovers on her neck, dress and jaw.

Jungkook rubbed her back and hit it harshly, after he did that, something came out of her mouth. Having come closer to the object. Adah saw that the blood soaked thing on the ground was the fabric she used to wipe off Jungkook's kiss.

Helios picked it up and looked at it, "I guess I should carve my name into your skin for you to understand that you're mine, Adah."

"N- uh uh." Adah expressed out of exhaustion.

Jungkook rested the back of Adah's head on the right side of his chest as he sat back down.

"Words." Jungkook ordered.

"...No." Adah quietly squeaked.

"Good girl." He praised.

He looked down and fixed her dress's décolleté, "You're so lucky I'm nice, anyone else would've done something horrible by now." Helios said.

"So just continue being good for me, arraseo?" Helios proposed.

Adah pursed her lips and rested her eyes.

--------

1 week later,

Jungkook gave her a new dress and some underwear since she stopped acting up,

Her wings were flared up everytime he entered her dark room.

Her previously fluffy and short feathers got replaced by some longer, thicker ones.

And that’s totally not because of the illegal steroids he put in her food :)

Helios stopped giving her drugs that would keep her up all night and day. So she could actually start distinguishing them.

--

Jungkook sat down infront of the little tray with two plates on it, "I missed having meals with you."

Adah flashed him a small smile.

Jungkook's ears became red from fluster, that was the biggest smile she sent him since she was in the mirror. They ate their meal, Jungkook asked her questions, did she like the food?

Was she feeling well?

Did she like him?

Did she want to stay with him forever?

Him?

Him.

Him!

Adah got worried and rubbed her hands together, "Jungkook,you look very tense." She remarqued.

Jungkook sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, "No, don't worry about me, I'm good as long as I'm with you." He said.

Adah stood up and sat behind him, she put her hands on his shoulders and started massaging his back.

"Darling you don't have to- Ah!" Jungkook exclaimed as Adah cracked his spine.

He felt relieved, “You should warn people when..” Jungkook stopped talking, he felt very relieved.

A little bit too relieved.

"….Adah, what did you do?"

Adah stood infront of him as showed a thin worm like string.

"I pulled out your nerve, it'll regenerate in a few hours, I'll put you to sleep, get your blood and leave the shadow world." Adah said.

Jungkook tried to get up but he couldn't, as if he was getting restrained by something.

"Don't, you'll hurt yourself." Adah said.

Helios stared at Adah, "I'm going to beat you up so hard for this." He said.

Adah sighed and crouched down, "Sorry."

And then the world went all black for Jungkook.

-----

Those few hours later.

"The Council moved." The elderly woman said.

Adah has been asking strangers where The Council went so that she could go report Helios.

"Where to?" Adah asked.

The woman shrugged, "It has moved to the starrise département."

"Arraseo, may all odds be in your favor." Adah inclined her head and ran away.

---

Jungkook walked around the Starrise department with a knife hidden in his pocket.

He wore all black with a hood over his head, looking for Adah, he'd figure his foolish lover would go and try to report him, so he put a temporary spell on the people of his city, making them believe that The Council had moved to the Starrise department.

He knew it would be a matter of minutes before they notice his unauthorized spell but what does he care?

He would've flown over the city to find her but anyone would recognize a fallen angel's dark wings.

"Look at what you're making me do Adah." He murmured.

He smelled that Adah was getting closer and closer, she was probably flying. So he ran ahead to the alleged council and waited for her there.

Jungkooks head shot to the other side of the street as he heard a pair of wings flutter, indicating that someone just landed. He looked at the source and felt his heart flutter intensely.

He let out a soft moan as he felt his recently regenerated nerve still connecting to the other ones.

He followed her from afar and saw her enter an alleyway. So he entered too.

She was stretching out her wings's feathers for a longer wingspan, since she couldn't walk properly with unbalanced feathers.

"Long time no see, princess." Jungkook said.

Adah turned her head in panic and grabbed her glass shard.

"Don't come any closer, it's poisoned."

( angel cookie juice can be life threatening for fallen angels/ demons yall! It's to prevent them from fornication and breeding just like their hands.)

"I wonder what it's poisoned with." Jungkook said as a cocky smirk creeped up his face.

"But enough games." Jungkook said as he pulled out his knife, "I'll bring you back home."

And the fight started.

Adah doesn't like fighting and would've flown away already if it weren't for her unbalanced wings.

So when they fought, Adah tried to dodge most of the hits, when she couldn't, she started attacking him blindly.

She ended up stabbing his arm and graze his neck. As consequence Jungkook flared up his wings so Adah couldn't escape.

He trapped her and pulled out a syringe, "You're going to feel a teeny tiny pinch." He said.

He neutralized Adah and brought her back.

-----

Bed.

Mirror.

Stool.

Morning.

Figure.

Bruises.

pain.

Eyes.

Bandage.

Chains...chains?

Adah's foot was chained to the wall, as soon as her vision cleared up she saw Jungkook bandaging his arm while glaring at her.

He was on his side on the mirror, but that didn't make his gaze burn any less. He was shirtless so she could see the place Jungkook marked himself with her burn.

Adah shyly glanced at him, his arm looked okay, for some reason that kind of relieved her.

She stood up from the bed and discreetly looked for the rest of glass shards.

Helios looked at her, "I threw the glass shards away." He said.

Adah's breath hitched and she quickly sat back down.

Jungkook put his shirt back on a walked towards Adah, who was glaring at the ground.

"I put my hands on you again, Adah." He confessed.

"You should be mad at yourself for making me feel like this." Helios said.

Adah looked up in disbelief, "I'm bleeding." She hoarsely whispered.

The inside of her fleece lined sweater sleeves were soaked in her blood.

"I know you are, what did you think i was trying to do?" Helios asked.

Adah fiddled with her fingers.

"....You want to eat?" Jungkook asked.

Adah shook her head, "I’m angry." She said.

"How dare you, i'm the one that's supposed to be angry." Jungkook sighed. "..What do i need to do to keep you here? Break your legs and wings?...because i will." He said.

Adah scoffed,

"I...i can't believe you." She said.

Adah's eyebrows furrowed together as a tear traveled her cheek, it soon got followed by more and more.

"You don't love me Jungkook,

You're obsessed."

————

Why you so obsessed with me, BOY I WANNA KNOWWWWWWW.

I’m kidding, I promise I’m normal🥲.

Please like, repost and comment any feedback or just what you liked or whatever you want to❤️

Feel free to put requests in my asks or ask whatever you want about my writing etc.

I Hope you guys are doing alright, please eat and stay safe. xoxo

- Purrbangtan.

[helldustedstories]

@vanaglcria asked:

Going from her mum's place to the palace has become... routine. Normal. So when something is notably abnormal about her return, her guard lifts. Normally, Stolas met her at the door, all smiles, wanting to hear about what she'd been up to.

The foyer was not just quiet on her return that evening, it was... palpably, unsettingly empty.

"Dad?" Dropping her bag on the floor, Octavia started up the stairs. Listening for any sound that would denote where he was. Even the staff seemed gone. They'd been downsizing, since the split, but there was... nobody.

The red light of the full moon cast the palace in eerie, shifting shadows. And there, under the garish chandelier ( the one she and Stolas had laid under when she was a girl, the one with the missing string of crystals ) is where she finds him. "Dad? Dad, what—"

unprompted

He wasn't enough. Of course he hadn't been enough; he never had been before. Not for his father, not for Stella, no matter how much he'd tried…, not even for Octavia. Stolas had always been the disappointment, not wanting to perform his husbandly duties, barely passing muster as a prince of the Goetia, failing to be the father his child needed. And now…., he hadn't been enough for Blitz. He should have known this would happen, should have prepared better for it.

Because while Stolas had been under no illusions about the fact that Blitz might reject him, might take the crystal and simply leave, something that was well within his rights to do, he hadn't thought it would end like this.

Stolas had rehearsed what he was going to say over and over, knowing that if he didn't, he might lose his nerve. And that hadn't been something he was willing to do. He had to give Blitz this choice; he deserved nothing less. Because if he was trapped in a relationship with Stolas, if he had no desire to be with him at all…., then Stolas was just as bad as his family. If Blitz didn't want anything to do with him, then Stolas was doing to Blitz what had been done to him.

He had given Blitz the crystal, confessed his feelings….., and Blitz had gone straight back to thinking it was some sex thing, that that was all Stolas wanted from him. He had even gone so far as to say "I love you" as part of the bit he was doing, and Stolas had felt like he'd been stabbed in the heart. It had taken everything in him to keep in his tears, to put space between them. Because if Blitz didn't want to stay, didn't want him, then Stolas wasn't going to impose his presence on him any longer than he already had.

Blitz had followed after him, and Stolas felt bile in his throat as he continued to bare his soul, because if Blitz didn't want him, then what did it matter if he told him everything?

But that had set Blitz off, and he'd yelled, kicking the door of the hall open as he chased after Stolas. As Blitz's voice and words echoed around him, Stolas couldn't breathe. He'd been in this position so often before, was dealing in the only way he knew how: by trying to put distance between himself and the other party, so he could break down alone, where no one had to see how "unbecoming" his emotions were.

As Blitz grew angrier and more agitated, Stolas tried to make himself smaller, tried to curl in on himself without making it obvious, hugging his arms to himself so Blitz couldn't see him slump.

But in the end, he hadn't been able to hold it in. For the first time since he was a child, Stolas cried in front of someone else. And before he could well and truly break down, before the sobs could start working their way through him, he'd portaled Blitz away, something he regretted the moment it happened. He had taken yet another choice away from Blitz...., even though he hadn't meant to. When would he fucking learn?

Stolas sank to his knees by the chandelier, one of the places this story had begun, all those years ago, when they were just children, carefree and playing. He wrapped his arms around himself, and the tears overwhelmed him, cascading down his cheeks in a torrent of anguish. Stolas sobbed harder than he had in a long time, perhaps since his birthday so long ago when he'd been told he was going to marry Stella. Because now he truly knew what a broken heart felt like.

He doesn't know how long he's been crying when he hears an unexpected voice. His daughter called out to him, and Stolas pulls himself to his feet, doing everything he can to wipe the tears away as covertly as possible.

Via hadn't been supposed to be here tonight; he hadn't been expecting her at all, but he turns to her, trying his best to pull a smile onto his face, to greet her the way she expects to be greeted.

"Via, starfire, I didn't expect you back until tomorrow," he says, trying valiantly to keep his voice from trembling, though even he can hear how much he's failing at that. Add it to the list of never-ending failures, of how useless he is. Can't even manage a smile for the one person in his life who cares about him.

"Did you have a good time? Do anything especially fun?" he tries again, and thinks he's marginally more successful. All he wants to do is curl up in his bed and weep until he has no more tears…, but he is a father, and what he wants comes second to Via.

He never should have tried wanting something for himself.

[thefanvideoer]

9 Lives too Many

Finally wrote a fanfic for this beautiful movie!

“You’ll be together again one day,” Perrito once said, but the optimistic pup just doesn’t understand—especially since he has only ever had one life—that one day could end up being many days.

Months. Years. Decades.

Puss sacrificed his last life for her. She still has 9 whole lives to live.

I love this movie. I love the characters. So why not hurt them a bit? Especially Kitty? I know, I am in need of my own ethical bug.

I don’t think it was ever mentioned how many lives Kitty has, right? So she still has 9 in this. It’s going to be a long time before she’s reunited with Puss.

He dies on their trip to Far Far Away. This takes place a while after that.

AO3

Finding the crystal cave had been a complete happenstance. Kitty hadn’t even really been looking for the cave but when she did find it, she hadn’t been able to resist entering.

She remembers that Puss had never been clear about what had happened in the cave he’d gotten trapped in and then ran out of, ignoring her and Perrito when they called out to him. She’s confused about its similar appearance to the Cave of Lost Souls; she thought it had only been unique to Puss like the other landscapes of the map that had appeared depending on who touched it. Maybe Death is able to travel between variations of the cave in different locations, not just in the Dark Forest.

Whatever the case, now that she’s discovered a trail, she has to find him.

If she finds Death...she’s sure to find Puss.

The wolf finds her first not long after she treads inside. He’s suddenly standing right in front of her, but she doesn’t move a muscle. Not a lot of things scare her these days.

She knows that he knows who she’s there for.

“Bring him back!” she screams loudly as her tired voice will allow, but Death remains silent.

He doesn’t even flinch when she raises her sword at him. She might not be able to do him much harm, but she can try.

Death stares back at her, like he’s waiting for her to make the first move. Her paw holding the sword trembles.

He continues staring at her, unblinking. Unmoving. Challenging her.

Her sword drops to the cave floor, making a loud clattering sound that pierces her ears, but she doesn’t care.

She can feel the tears streaming down her face already as she drops down onto her knees, unable to look at the afterimages of her special moments with Puss, especially when he had proposed for the second time. She hadn’t hesitated to say yes now that he had changed. He hadn’t loved just himself anymore. She knew that she could trust him with her whole heart and that he wouldn’t abandon their wedding once again.

She still hasn’t taken the ring off. It almost physically hurts to even look at, but she doesn’t dare remove it even though he broke his promise not to abandon her again like he had at the church.

They could have had a whole life together, but the crystal showing the possibility of a family is the worst. She can’t look at their children who will never come to be any longer. Puss would have made such a great father, but her? She doesn’t want to know what kind of mother she would have been.

She wants to be angry, so angry...but she can’t be.

Not when it’s all her fault.

He left her a second time, but not of his own accord.

The pain of it all is too much for her aching heart to bear. She remains on her knees, refusing to look up at the entity before her.

She’s Kitty Softpaws. She never cries—she pushes through.

But her beloved’s passing is something she just doesn’t think she can bring herself to handle, every day without him like a knife stabbing her directly in the heart.

Perrito keeps trying to comfort her every passing day, telling her that everything will be alright, that Puss would want her to be happy and not so sad, but nothing works.

“You’ll be together again one day,” Perrito once said, but the optimistic pup just doesn’t understand—especially since he has only ever had one life—that one day could end up being many days.

Months. Years. Decades.

Every life adding up more and more time.

“Are you okay?” Perrito will always ask that question, too.

“I’m fine!” she’ll usually snap back.

Perrito probably knows she isn’t. He’s gotten good at his therapy dog service. He tries his best, but she’s just...broken.

Because how can she ever be happy without Puss by her side? When she still has her whole nine lives to live without him? She suddenly wishes that she had been as careless as Puss had once been with each of his lives...until his last life.

The last, most precious life that she unintentionally ended because of a stupid accident Puss had to save her from.

“I cannot bring anyone back when their time is up,” Death replies softly, but his voice is enough to bring her back to the present.

Her heart pounds hard in her ears. She rubs at her eyes until her tears are almost gone, sniffling. She doesn’t like to beg, but she’ll do anything for Puss. “Take me instead, then. Please.”

She would gladly trade places with Puss. It’s her fault he’s gone. He wasn’t meant to die yet, but he’s gone because of her.

“It is not your time yet,” Death says, his voice ever steady—like he’s been through this conversation many times before already. “You still have many lives to live.”

Kitty can barely bring herself to whisper, “What if I don’t want to live through them all? Why can’t you take them all now?”

“It is out of my power to do so until your time comes at the end of each life,” Death informs her gently.

“You went after Puss before his last life was up,” she counters, her voice suddenly angry.

“I was never going to kill him. As I’ve already said, I am unable to take someone’s life before their time is up. Oh, believe me, I really wanted to, but...I can’t. It’s actually impossible for me to do such a thing. I’m more like a guide that leads souls where they need to go. Hence the ‘Caves of Lost Souls.’ Plural. There isn’t only one. Surprised?”

So it’s not just unique to Puss, and there are more than one in different locations.

Kitty glances up at him for a moment, indeed surprised at his statement. She knows that he can’t take lives prematurely unless those lives are meant to die prematurely, so...

“So why did you scare him like that?” she whispers.

He had been more than scared. He’d been terrified then that he only had one last life. He realized that he couldn’t be careless anymore.

“He needed to learn a lesson about appreciating life. He wasted so many of his lives and I felt I needed to knock some sense into that loco, daredevil brain of his.”

For the first time in a long time, Kitty laughs. It’s not a loud or drawn out laugh, but it still qualifies as a laugh.

Death is right about that. Puss had certainly needed a wake up call and he gave him one. In a way, she’s glad he had some sense knocked into him. He might have wasted his last life like he had all the others.

Her next questions burn her like she’s been branded, but she has to know even if she isn’t going to like the answer. “Was it quick? Was he afraid?”

Death doesn’t take long to respond, and he isn’t disturbed at all by what he describes. “He was afraid at first, but more relieved that you were okay. His fear wasn’t able to last long and he wasn’t in any pain. I made sure of that.”

It takes her a moment to realize that the wolf hadn’t done so out of malice, but was kind enough to make a swift end for him. It was over fast and he hadn’t been in any pain. She’s thankful he told her that, but it doesn’t make her loss any easier to bear.

“You’ve been feeling lost lately without him, haven’t you? That’s why you found this cave...not because you were actually lost,” Death says, almost like he’s a bit amused.

Kitty can feel her tears trying to break free again, but she does her best to hold them back unlike when she broke down in front of Death upon her arrival.

He speaks again, spinning one of his sickles mindlessly in a paw. Even though he’s right in front of her, close enough to accidentally cut her, Kitty isn’t afraid. It isn’t her time yet, as he had unfortunately reminded her.

“I might not be able to take your lives yet, but what I can do is let you say goodbye. Honestly, I knew he changed and appreciated life more after what I did, but even though he had one life left, he still sacrificed himself for someone he loved. I didn’t expect that. I wasn’t expecting to meet him again so soon after what he learned about life. He surprised me. Again. So I figure I should make a little exception for him. And trust me, I don’t make exceptions often.”

Her heart feels like it stops short. The way he died hadn’t granted her the luxury of saying goodbye.

Death raises a finger to his mouth in a ‘shhh’ gesture. “I’m not exactly supposed to do this either, so don’t tell on me.”

If it means she can have a few minutes or even seconds with Puss, she’ll be forever grateful. A gentle breeze wafts through the cave, and she realizes she hasn’t felt that much air until now. Looking up again, Death is gone. The crystal that he had been standing next to contains—

She runs up quickly to him, ready to embrace him, but her paws aren’t able to get through the crystal. She’s panting by the time she reaches him, nearly out of breath.

He looks exactly as he did before his death, wearing his classic Puss in Boots outfit with the hat and all. The sword is even included at his side. He’s the same size that he was in life.

Puss bends down, resting his paws on the inside of the crystal. Kitty does the same from the other side, the crystal feeling cold against her paws. She ignores the sensation.

So close, yet so far.

All she can do is sob and whisper an apology. “Oh, Puss, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault...”

He shakes his head.

“I am not angry. I could never blame you for what happened. If anything had happened to you, I would have never been able to live with myself.”

Somehow, hearing the confirmation from him that he’s not angry and isn’t blaming her for what happened doesn’t make it any better.

“I can’t live without you! I still have all my lives!” she screams, her pain once again becoming overbearing. “I don’t think I ever told you that, did I?”

Wordlessly, he shakes his head slowly.

How can she live like this through all nine lives being apart from the one she loves most?

Puss is quiet for a moment. Kitty keeps her eyes locked on him, afraid that he’ll disappear at any second. She had considered jabbing him with that little fact when he’d told her Death was after him, but then Jack Horner had interrupted along with Goldi and the bears in their mad scramble to get the wish first.

“And I’ll be patiently waiting,” Puss finally says. Even his voice sounds patient, but it also holds longing...longing of what could have been. “How is Perrito?”

Too bad Team Friendship had ended before it even really got started.

“He misses you a lot. He grieves in his own way, talking about you all the time, but I never really let him finish what he has to say about you...”

She feels bad about that, but she can’t help it.

“Why not?” Puss asks. He would appreciate his therapy friend comforting Kitty with happy memories of him. He wishes that she would let Perrito help her like he helped him.

She feels like crying all over again. She knows she shouldn’t push Perrito away, but...

“It hurts too much.”

“Kitty, I don’t want to cause you any pain. If it’s easier for you to forget about me...”

“No! Never,” she disagrees instantly. How could he ever say that? “I could never forget the Legend even if I wanted to. I’ll tell your stories to whoever wants to listen.”

Puss gives her a small smile. “Keeping me alive in that way would make me happy,” he admits, but then his smile fades.

Something is bothering him.

She doesn’t want him to be in pain, either. “What is it?”

“I want you to promise me something.”

“Anything,” she agrees without hesitation. She’ll do whatever he asks.

“Promise that you’ll live your life to the fullest. All of your lives,” he emphasizes so she understands.

Kitty breathes in deeply. She’s not sure if she can do that. Why did he have to ask one of the only things she’s not sure that she can do?

He’s being a hypocrite. He told her moments ago that he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to her!

“Please don’t try to become who I once was just so we can be reunited sooner,” Puss continues. He had gotten good at guessing what she thinks. He sounds so desperate that her heart does a small flip flop. “Cherish your lives as much as you can. Find happiness, even if it means being with someone else.”

Perrito had been right about that, about Puss wanting her to be happy. Maybe she really should listen to that dog more often. She shouldn’t be so upset with him for wanting to protect her from literally diving headfirst into a situation none of them could control.

She looks away, tears starting to fall again. “I don’t know i-if I can,” she sniffs, not bothering to wipe her nose. “You should have let me die! Why did you try to save me in an impossible situation when you only had one life left and I still have all of mine?!”

She’s so pathetic; she’s blaming his own death on him when she should have outright told him how many lives she still has.

“I know you would want me to do the same if it was the other way around,” Puss goes on delicately, “but I’m so relieved it wasn’t. I am so thankful I managed to save your life, even if you didn’t need me to.”

Maybe he’s not exactly being a hypocrite if it’s true for him and her. Either way, it would be hard for both of them to lose the other. She’ll have to find the courage to live on without him, but it’s going to be difficult.

The way he says his next words is so sincere and steadfast that it reminds her about one of the many reasons why she fell for him in the first place.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t thinking right in the heat of the moment, but watching you die once would have been enough to take that one life from me no matter how many lives you had at the time.”

“Estúpido!” she hisses, but they both know she doesn’t really mean that, because he’s her idiot and hers alone. “You’re much too dramatic. I would have been fine!”

“Are you?” he inquires seriously.

That question again. She knows what he’s asking, and she knows that he probably already knows the answer.

Silence. Then...

“You’ll need to take care of our little amigos and amigas.”

Kitty’s eyes start shining again and she places a paw around her belly, looking down in surprise. She hadn’t even known yet!

The echo of purring causes one of her ears to twitch. It sounds like a cat but much younger, like it’s coming from a...kitten? Looking back at the crystal showing their family with Puss still alive, she can see herself holding one of their children: a ginger kitten just like his father, but with blue eyes like hers. Puss is holding another that looks scarily similar to her with black fur and white markings, only with his bright green eyes instead.

So that reflection isn’t only a possibility, but a future that hasn’t come to be yet. Her fiancé’s inclusion is the only false reality.

“Remember, on the ship—?” Puss teases, shyly twirling one of his whiskers. The ship they had taken to get to Far Far Away.

“Yes, yes, I remember,” Kitty interrupts quickly, feeling a blush arise as she looks back at him. How could she forget? If Death is still listening, he doesn’t need to hear that part. They hadn’t even been married yet, but they were both too impatient to wait until they arrived at their destination they never reached—at least not together.

But it had been wonderful after they both managed to get away from Perrito for a while.

She also remembers the storm that happened. She almost lost one of her nine lives, but being the idiot he is—was—Puss had saved her. She and Perrito had never been able to find his...his...

Not even his hat and boots. All had gone, sunk to the bottom of the unforgiving ocean. There had been nothing to bury. Perrito had wanted to make some kind of memorial anyway, but she refused. His friends in Far Far Away had been devastated by his loss, offering a small service. He had been so excited to introduce her to them.

But the only place she could think of that Puss might want to be ‘laid’ to rest is San Ricardo. If she’s still alive and well, Kitty would have to tell his mamá what had happened to her son. She will have to tell the human who meant so much to him eventually at some point, even if she herself is still a wanted cat along with Puss in San Ricardo unless she finds a way to clear both of their names.

After all this time, she still can’t forget his look of happiness and relief when he saved her from going overboard, and then the utter fear on his face as he went overboard himself when a large wave crashed onto them—the realization striking him that he just used his last life. Puss had saved her once before during their adventure with Humpty when she almost drowned and they had both gotten out of it alive, but their luck had run out. He’s a strong swimmer when he needs to be, but he couldn’t have been a match against the raging ocean.

Neither could she. Perrito had to hold her back from diving in after him, using his sharp teeth to bite down on her tail.

But even if she had managed to get to Puss, then what? How would they have gotten back aboard the ship? Maybe in that moment, all of her lives would have been wasted at once. Not that she would have cared at the time.

Because she had almost gotten knocked over the edge, Puss had risked his life and then lost it. She’ll never be able to look at the sea the same way again.

Kitty tries her best not to think about all that, forcing a smile at her forever would-be husband. She still can’t get too close because of the crystal blocking them; if only she could hold his paw, hug him, anything—

“I still like the name Chomper,” Puss comments, offering her a welcome distraction. Of course he would want to name one of their children the name he had wanted to call Perrito before the dog had decided to stick with his original name after all. “Jeff is also growing on me.”

She’s not sure she can do it without Puss. What if she’s a terrible mother? What if she does everything wrong? What if they end up hating her?

“You will be fine,” Puss reassures her. He sounds more sure than she feels. “They’ll love you. You’ll love them with all of your heart and help them grow up to be big and strong, telling them stories of the legendary Puss in Boots.”

Kitty shakes her head, desperate. She squeezes her eyes shut against the cool crystal blocking her from Puss. “No. I’ll find another map and wish for you to come back—”

“No!” Puss argues, his voice sharp enough to grab her attention and open her eyes again. “We cannot cheat Death; I learned that the hard way already. My time is up. I don’t want you to waste your lives searching for something you might not be able to find again. Please, Kitty. That is what I wish. Please do not waste your lives like I did.”

Kitty gives him a small nod, trying not to let her tears get out of control. She can tell their sons and daughters all about their father so he won’t be forgotten. Their children can, in turn, tell their own sons and daughters about their grandfather. His stories will span generations. She’ll make sure he’ll always be remembered. Her children will be a painful reminder of what she lost, but they’ll also bring comfort that in some way, Puss will still be with her.

“I-I love you so much,” he says with a ferocity that surprises her a little, but not too much. Ever since he changed, she hasn’t doubted his love for her once. He said it every day. She should have said it back more.

His voice is starting to break—they both know their time together is coming to a close.

She doesn’t care about the barrier blocking them or how silly it might look, suddenly craving to be closer to him. She wants to feel his fur against hers; it hurts so much that she can only feel the crystal’s smooth surface. Leaning her head closer towards the crystal, she closes her eyes and imagines her lips connecting with his, their passion united.

Opening her eyes again, Puss is smiling at her. Not a bright, happy kind of smile, but bittersweet.

“Promise me you’ll live,” he says again, more firmly this time. He wants to know she isn’t going to do anything reckless. He’ll never be at peace if she does otherwise.

“I-I promise,” she says, her voice shaking. “Please don’t go.”

“I’ll never be too far, mi amor,” Puss whispers, staying as close to her as he possibly can. “As long as you hold me close in here.”

He places both paws against his heart. His image inside the crystal starts fading away.

“Please...” she whispers back, hoping that he can stay just a little longer. If only a few seconds more...but she knows deep down there’s nothing either of them can do.

“I must. I am sorry...just know that I will always be watching over you,” he assures her gently. This is what he wants. She’s not going to try and go against his wishes.

She keeps her eyes on him until he’s completely vanished, as well as the other crystals around her.

All of her special moments with him and what could have been...gone...but still with her. Still hers to always cherish and share with others to keep his memory alive.

Death walks out of the darkness. She doesn’t feel as angry at him as she did when she walked in. She finds the strength to stand again, to look Death straight in the eyes.

“Thank you,” Kitty says genuinely—she means it. She’s thankful she had the chance to say goodbye when others might not always be so lucky.

He gives her a small, respectful nod, but doesn’t say anything else and walks back into the darkness. She picks up her sword, remembering the way she had come in and retracing her steps to get back out. She finds herself back in the woods where she and Perrito decided to camp for the night.

Looking back, the Cave of Lost Souls is...gone. She blinks, rubbing her eyes, but it doesn’t reappear again.

Sighing, she figures she better find more firewood like she said she was going to do.

She follows the smoky scent of the campfire they had set up. After walking for a while, she gets close enough for Perrito to see and run towards her until he practically tackles her to the ground, but he stops himself just before they collide.

“Kitty? Are you okay?” Perrito asks, his head tilting curiously to the side. “You’ve been gone for a while.”

He’s always been worried about her ever since the accident and what happened to Puss. He had been asking that same question more times than she could count, her irritation usually getting the better of her. The same question Puss asked in the cave.

For the first time, she doesn’t feel annoyed at his endless questions. Her anger at him for stopping her from saving Puss isn’t as strong as it once was.

“I’ll be fine,” she tells him more firmly than she’d been able to before. She starts adding the wood to the fire, smiling at him.

Perrito’s tail starts wagging, his face lighting up at the fact that she seems to be feeling better. He’s going to make a great uncle to the kids when her litter is born. He begins to go on about a funny name he had originally known Puss as when the two of them met for the first time at a cat rescue while he had been running from Death—Pickles?—and she doesn’t try to stop Perrito from talking about her love this time. She allows him to continue on, even laughing with him.

She stares down at the ring on her paw, shining brightly in the campfire light. Puss had been worried it was too simple to show the love of his life exactly how much he loved her, but she had reassured him that she loved it no matter where he had gotten it or how little he had to pay. The only thing that mattered to her was him. He’d made her realize a long time ago that a certain special someone was worth more than anything gold could offer.

Kitty isn’t ready to take it off yet, but maybe one day. Maybe one day she’ll find happiness again like Puss wants her to. It will take a lot of time, but she thinks she can keep her word to live her lives to the fullest.

She rests her paws on her belly, turning back to face the general direction she thinks she found the crystal cave.

“I promise.”

...

Regarding Death, I know he said he was going to take the last life from Puss early, but I kind of like to think that he was just bluffing to scare him and that he’s not really able to do something like that. He just wanted to scare the poor guy literally almost to death so he would value life more xD

[marvelmaniac715]

You know that post I made about Chucky leading an army of five year olds and that somebody should write a fanfic about it? Well, on behalf of myself I decided to write that fanfic, this is pure crack and is in no way canon compliant, but it should be fun :). Can you catch the Mean Girls reference?

————————————————————-

Somehow, he’d found himself in a kindergarten. He’d been lying by the side of the road and somebody had brought him to a donation box for toys, and now… here he was. It was humiliating, he was being thrown, stomped on, jerked around by a thousand sticky little hands, any remaining affection he might have had for children was gone in an instant.

But somewhere during the torture and the play dough pies, an idea struck him. Kids were inconspicuous, they could fly under the radar and not attract attention, and he was a doll, if he taught these kids how to fight then maybe…

He waited for the right moment to kill off the staff, and once every adult was dead he made his move on the kids. They were all together in the toy corner, which made things even easier. He worried about having to gain their attention, but as soon as he walked over a little girl screamed and pointed, and then all eyes were on him. He’d been planning a more flashy introduction, but oh well, showtime..

“Hey, I’m Chucky, and I need your help.”

More screaming ensued. Chucky had to cover his ears to prevent them from splitting, but eventually the kids all calmed down again so he could speak.

“Look, I know you all may be five, but I strongly believe that together we can-‘

“Poop!”

Shaking off the disruption, Chucky continued.

‘No, no, not poop, in future I’d like no calling out please. As I was saying, if we work together, I think we can succeed in-‘

“Pooping!”

Chucky started to lose his temper by this point.

“Okay, who keeps saying that?”

Five children pointed to a boy near the back. One loud mouthed brunette girl with a missing tooth proclaimed:

“Brandon!”

With the perpetrator named, Chucky glared at the boy, hoping that this would silence him. The child looked suitably scared. With a satisfied smile, Chucky continued.

“If we work together, we can defeat a common enemy.”

Pausing for dramatic effect, half a dozen children called out:

“Who?”

And after a few moments of silence (to build suspense) Chucky spread his arms and tilted his head, allowing a bloodthirsty grin to appear on his face as he quietly hissed the word:

“Adults.”

————————————————————-

Training was… not going well. The children (being five years old) kept getting distracted and running off to do other things. When Chucky managed to wrangle one, another would run off, cackling madly with delight as he groaned in annoyance and followed after them. 

Brandon proved to have quite the potty mouth. Every time he’d beat up one of his classmates (Chucky both admired and feared the boy’s rage) he would let a string of curse words fly, including some very personal and upsetting insults that made Chucky struggle not to cry. Chucky didn’t want to distract from his mission of converting the children into the soldiers, but his lingering paternal instincts from when he spent time with Glen made him pull Brandon to one side and ask:

“Brandon, is everything alright at home?”

Brandon broke down into tears and sobbed out a dejected:

“No!”

And Chucky realised he had made a mistake.

————————————————————-

Another annoying child was Kelsey. Kelsey wore a little pink tutu and had her light blonde curls in a tight ballerina’s bun. The moment Chucky caught sight of the girl he sighed and resigned himself to annoyance.

Sure enough, whenever he tried to teach the others how to stab or shoot a gun, Kelsey would tug on his sleeve, blink her crystal blue eyes and lisp out:

“Mr Chucky, do you wanna watch me dance?”

Trying to maintain the children’s trust, he’d fix the kindest smile possible to his face and respond:

“Not now, sweetie.”

That would work for a while, then she’d try again. Eventually he lost patience, and he snapped at her.

“For the love of God, Kelsey! No, I do not and will not ever want to watch you dance!”

Kelsey’s face crumpled. Her eyes filled with tears as her cheeks flushed pink. Her rosebud mouth fell open, and before Chucky knew it, the girl was screeching.

————————————————————-

By 1 o’clock that afternoon, Chucky had concluded that five year olds don’t know how to fight. If he had access to beer, he would’ve given up and gotten drunk long ago. Deciding to take a firmer hand, he called the children’s attention and told them:

“I will keep you here all night if I have to!”

A girl with mousy brown hair and round glasses politely raised a hand, and when Chucky gave her permission to speak, she quietly explained:

“Uh, Mr Chucky? Our mommies and daddies pick us up at four.”

Chucky conceded that he couldn’t kill that many people at once, it was beyond even his ability. Besides, he might lose the children’s trust. So he sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day and corrected himself, saying:

“I will keep you here till four.” 

————————————————————-

Chucky had had it! He’d given up on negotiating, on being kind to these children, on trying to teach them anything. They were useless. And he told them so. But the kindergarteners (having recently learnt his own fighting techniques) didn’t take too kindly to that. He barely escaped with his life, and their battle cries still haunted him. As Chucky limped away, nursing his injuries, he vowed to never mess with little kids again, especially in large groups. Andy Barclay had nothing on them.

[clarktooncrossing]

Giraffe's Eye View: Christmas Specials Special (2023) | A Muppet Christmas Carol

Chestnuts are roasting on an open fire. Jack Frost is nipping at your nose. Mom and dad can hardly wait for school to start again. All the dogs in the neighborhood somehow learned to bark Jingle Bells in sync. Yet retail workers are still more annoyed with Mariah Carey. Snow is getting shoveled, tossed, and formed into sentient beings leading parades without permits. It makes for an excellent distraction as the Krampus abducts children for bad behavior. Fruitcake is exchanged only to find its permanent home in the garbage. Terrorists have hijacked the Holiday office party right before your boss can give you a Jelly of the Month Club membership as your bonus. And of course, the Turducken has returned to wreak its fiery vengeance upon an unsuspecting world! If all this doesn’t put you in the Christmas spirit, perhaps these following Holiday specials will!

Greetings people of today and robots of tomorrow! It is I, Santa Clark, your geeky giraffe friend with a deep love of Christmas! My obsession for the yuletide is rivaled only by Maleficent’s hatred for it, which is saying a lot considering she once teamed up with Mad Madam Mim to kidnap the literal Spirit of Christmas. Yes, that really happened. I know this due to my annual pilgrimage to the Island of Misfit Specials, home to obscure or nerdy festive media ranging from movies, TV episodes, and comics. It’s no easy journey. Constantly I find myself confronted by sinister snowmen, genocidal gingerbread men, and worst of all, crappy commercials. Getting stabbed in the foot by a candy-cane wielding cookie is one thing, but I swear I’ve seen that ad for Wilbur’s White Elephant Gift Emporium more times than I’ve seen Miracle on 34th Street! Sometimes at night I catch myself reciting that jingle. Wilbur’s White Elephant Gift Emporium: Where Christmas meets Convenience! Huh, maybe Maleficent had a point.

Nah, my deep-rooted appreciation for this time of year can weather even the most moronic marketing! It helps that most of the merry media I’ve seen have put me in the perfect Holiday mood! Examples include the time a Ninja Turtle found himself trapped in a truck full of stollen toys, a drunk department store Santa stumbling onto a wish-granting magic bag, Big Bird nearly becoming a popsicle, Gwenpool waking up in a world where Galactus took the place of jolly ol’ Saint Nicholas, a terrifying tree stump trying to slaughter some saps over a stupid ship war, and the year when Death gave the Little Match Girl the greatest gift of all. Needless to say, I thought I had seen it all. That is, until I took my friends on a trip to the Island, tasking them to find me new, strange, seasonal specials to review! Some of them were fair, finding me festive favorites as comforting as coco in front of the fireplace. Others were fiendish, wanting to feed off my misery like Gremlins after midnight. Regardless of how naughty or nice my companions were, I’ve compiled all of their suggestions into a makeshift advent calendar! So stay tuned everyday until Christmas to see how badly my buddies can shred what little sanity I have left.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my buddies gave to me...

Jim Henson was dead, to begin with. In life he was a storyteller, bringing life to the felt friends from Sesame Street and The Muppet Show to delight audiences around the world. He was also a director, creating fabulous new fairy tales in the form of The Dark Crystal and Labyrinth. Not too shabby for a guy who didn’t think he could build a career off of puppets. With Kermit on his arm the world would know Jim as an artist, optimist, visionary, innovator, comedian, winner of the Best Beard Award, and friend. When he died, the rest of the world wept tears. The same could sadly not be said for Richard Hunt, the company’s first openly gay puppeteer who had provided life to roles such as Scooter, Beaker, and Sweetums the Ogre. Yet these losses were felt by the caring colleagues they left behind. So when they were approached by Walt Disney Studios to produce their own take on A Christmas Carol, all of them sought to prove that life continued after death. With Jim’s son Brian acting as first time director, did they succeed?

Considering two of my own friends wanted me to review A Muppet Christmas Carol, I’d say that’s a resounding yes. Heck, I’m surprised it was only Hobo and Young (YoungSamurai18) who wanted me to assess this adaptation, everybody and their grandmother loves talking about it. Still, I didn’t want to deny Hobo the chance to contribute to this special, so I convinced the geeky, gaming gecko to pick Power Rangers instead. Jee, thanks for selecting something of equal quality. That left the wrestle-maniac wide open to pile-drive his pick right into my skull. At last, I’m free to sing this picture’s praises to the high heavens! Nothing can stop me from cementing this cinematic classic as the seasonal staple that it is! From the highest mountains I can shout that this is the greatest thing in the history of the-

Yeah, I think it's okay.

Assuming all of you haven’t left by now, let me explain. None of this comes from a hatred of Henson, as I hope the opening made clear. In fact, I love the Muppets. Their show would play on a constant loop in my house whenever I wasn’t watching the original Muppet Movie, which happens to be one of my all-time favorite films. Both it and this movie were scripted by Jerry Juhl, a man I believe knew these characters better than even Jim did. That same understanding is shown here too since every character is cast as the perfect counterpart from the book. Kermit the Frog (Steve Whitmire) unsurprisingly portrays Bob Cratchet with Miss Piggy (Frank Oz) acting as his wife. 'Acting' being the keyword here. No doubt Kermit kept reminding her that their marital bond was fake only for Piggy to bring up the wedding from Muppets Take Manhattan. Joining these two is Robin (Jerry Nelson) as Tiny Tim and three original characters standing in for their kids. If you thought adult Piggy was a handful, wait ‘til you meet her identical twin daughters. Her genes must’ve karate-chopped the crap out’a her husband’s! 

If that all wasn’t amazing enough, we have Fozzie (Oz) as Fozziwig, a pun so perfect I’m convinced the entire film was made around it. His normal hecklers, Statler and Waldorf, also fill in the roles of double Marleys magnificently. I could go on, but I know you’re all waiting for me to mention the actual best part of this movie: Gonzo the Great (Dave Goelz) as Charles Dickens! Oh my gosh, that is too amazing for words! You can keep Dan Stevens, this little blue weirdo is the definitive on-screen Dickens. People already loved Gonzo before this flick, but now? He may as well be the main Muppet! Every time he’s on screen narrating the story or interacting with Rizzo (Whitmire) you’re glued to his every word. You can tell he’s loving simply being here and that enthusiasm is infectious! That alone makes this movie worth a watch.

Still, what would Mr. Dickens's story be without ghosts? Here it was decided to produce new puppets for the parts in place of choosing old classics. First there’s Christmas Past, a strange, uncanny specter brought to life via a water tank and a green screen. She’s also the most unsettling of the trio, looking like a reject from Labyrinth. The only reason she doesn’t haunt my nightmares is her sing-song voice provided by Jessica Fox. Not to mention her colleague is a right jolly old elf. I always laugh when I see him, in spite of myself. Of course I’m talking about Christmas Present (Nelson), this version easily being the best. He’s larger than life, endlessly kind, and absentmindedly can only focus on the present moment. Like Dory he forgets whatever was mentioned mere seconds after it happened. Unlike Dory he doesn’t belittle his coworkers behind the scenes. If nothing else, he at least gets the best song on the soundtrack. Finally we're left with a lackluster Christmas Future, looking like some tall doofus in a hood. Whenever I see him walk around I expect him to hit his head on something before hearing Robert Groves yell, “Ow!”

Having said that, he’s still more lively than Scrooge. Yup, we’ve reached the point where your respect is thrown off the windowsill. Michael Caine is a fine enough actor, even making for an awesome Alfred. However, his Scrooge leaves something to be desired. When he was cast in the role, Caine decided to treat the material as seriously as Shakespeare, a decision I ultimately believe hurt his performance. Dude refuses to emote for a good chunk of the runtime. His best scenes are when he’s angrily shouting at his book keepers, crying over losing Belle (Meredith Braun), or at the end when he’s singing about his newfound sense of purpose. Otherwise he seems bored. Worse, it appears as though he’s faking emotions. Some may argue that’s what acting is, but I’d argue great actors can make you feel along with them. This wasn’t a problem for Tim Curry in Muppet Treasure Island. It wasn’t a problem for former Scrooges like Jim Carrey, Starlight Glimmer, Chris Bean, or any of the freak’n ducks! All of them are puzzle pieces placed perfectly to enhance the overall picture while Caine was forced in. Nothing against him personally, he’s just not one of the great Scrooges of cinema, at least not to me.

Despite that, I get why folks love this retelling. On my list of Christmas Carol adaptations it ranks number eight. Everything else about it has stood the test of time terrifically. The puppet performances are phenomenal, the script smartly streamlines the story for all audiences, and the music by Paul Williams is the Swedish Chef’s kiss. Unsurprising, really, given this man almost won an Academy Award for writing Rainbow Connection. All of this makes for a good introductory film. Chances are you first saw this when you were a kid and it’s what introduced you to both the Muppets and A Christmas Carol. It’s why you’re so happily familiar with both now and eagerly await to share this movie with your own children someday. When that day comes, I hope you all enjoy that Christmas feeling together. After all, it is a movie from the heart! Made with a special kind of caring with the ways of love made clear!

Get it? They’re the words to the song! Wakka Wakka! Ah. whatever! Now I’m in the mood for more classic Disney Christmas specials...

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[marieabubb08]

𝖮𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖱𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖬𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖸𝗈𝗎

Kozume Kenma

Wrote this with a fem!reader in mind but no specific gender is said so every gender is welcome

His eyes fluttered slowly. The sun he saw earlier through the day was now replaced by the moon. It's light now seeped through the curtains, glaring at his form.

'The moon looks so pretty tonight. Hey Ken, do you want to moongaze?'

He can almost see you, peeking through the blinds that he always kept close because he doesnt like the busy view of the outside.

He chuckled to himself at the excited sound of your voice, was there even a thing called moongaze? He thought.

He closed his eyes and only shook his head with an amused smile, but he realized that that moved was a big mistake because when he opened his eyes your silhouette in the dark was gone.

The cold, empty bed reminded him that you were gone...

You left...only leaving him with memories of the two of you.

His eyes turned hot as tears threatened to fall. He tried hard to fight it back from falling after all, this was what he wanted right?

He wanted his freedom. He wanted to be alone again.

And you accepted his wish.

He thought he could survive without you. Heck he even thought he'll be much better without you.

But he was a fool to believe that.

He can almost see your form's hunched back as crystal tears fell into the floor, you held your heart as if someone had stabbed it.

And he knew, that someone was him.

But he was stubborn. Oh he needed to be.

He turned his head to the door of the room to try an distract him from you. It was slightly ajarred.

He could almost hear light footsteps from the other side of the door, probably you preparing to scare him while he played on his gaming desk that was beside the door.

You were always a prankster.

But those pranks, even though targeted at him, manages to surprisingly make him laugh.

No.

He shoom his head at the memories. He can't.

But it was no use.

No matter where he looked, your memories together would be there like pictures in time.

With no other choice, he turned to the lamp beside him and turned it off. Believing that if he doesnt see anything in the room, he won't remember anything about you at all.

Oh, but he was wrong.

He could almost see you beside him, as you both hid under the blankets, pretending there was a monster or a spy on the hunt for the both of you like in those suspense movies you liked too much. You shushed him, not wanting to be "caught".

Your imagination always surprises him, but this trait of yours never made a single second with you boring.

Kenma grunted.

Even the dark void of the night made him remember you.

It hurted.

But it was fair.

He deserved this.

He just laid there, accepting that he was stuck.

Stuck in your grasp.

Kenma could never forget you.

Not when everything reminds him of you.

Not edited

I didnt know what to write so here's some angst

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐌 𝐈 ↟ 𝐓����𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞

↠  summary: After fleeing from the regime taking over the castle, you find yourself under the protection of the renowned Blood God, Technoblade.

↠ fantasy au, slowburn romance

↠  pairing: c!Techno x fm!reader

↠  tw: blood, mentions of gore, mentions of violence

↠  wc: ~2.3k

a/n: This is actually a pretty self-indulgent thing so no characters or plotlines will really be accurate. As always, my series(es) are at the mercy of my inbox so if you have any comments/ideas/want to make a moodboard, let me know! Happy reading :)

♡ ᵍᵉⁿᵉ

The leaves crunched beneath your feet with every dragging step, your strides heavy and uneven as you clutched your side. Sticky ribbons of crimson threaded through your fingers, oozing from between your ribs as each movement sent a new flash of white, stabbing pain to echo through your body. Your toes were growing numb, and your vision was blurring at the edges.

The snow stirred pink in the steep trenches you had begun to cut into the earth. As your lungs burned with each gulping breath, you wondered how long you could make it in this state. Where had you even been going in the first place? You couldn’t remember at this point, only that you were running.

Each time you figured you could go on no longer, your body somehow managed to carry you further. The uphill incline you were now grappling with left your knees buried and the chill of hypothermia began to take effect.

Bright flairs torn open the darkness of the sky, a sign they were looking for you in the woods now. Surely, they would see the trail of struggle you had left behind and would follow you. The shrieking noise of the lights scrapped against your eardrums, adding to the intense beating of your heart already pounding against your damaged ribs.

Your ice-cold fingers reached for the trunks of the slender trees masking your identity, hoping for any signs of leverage to propel yourself forward and away from the noise of the bloodhounds and nearby circuits of soldiers and their braying steeds. The light from the flairs illuminated the scenery around you, the shadows of the trees stretching across the snow like bony limbs aching to entangle their prey.

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip as searing pain rippled through one of your legs. Tears stung your eyes as you avoided looking at the flesh now torn from your worn body as you dislodged your knee from a tree root buried in the snow. The frustration weighing on your tired body was overcoming your earlier adrenaline.

You scorned yourself as you looked down at the blood seeping from your mangled limbs and into the crystal snow. So much blood, you thought, finding it difficult to lift your head as you propelled yourself further up the hill. The dogs were nearing your location, the flairs becoming more sporadic as if they knew exactly where you were. Maybe your mind was draining as your blood further spread against your skin.

You had lost feeling in your legs, the warmth of your blood pooling in your shoes was no longer a reality check for you. Your eyelids felt as heavy as stone as your chest ached for rest, a burn of exhaustion settling in your lungs. Your knees buckled beneath you, digging into the blanket of white as your body sighed in relief at stopping. You knew you needed to move further. You needed to put more distance between you and the men, but you were so tired.

As your body began to fold in on itself, you could barely make out a figure standing before you. Animalistic eyes of panic and confusion burned into your figure. His cloak drifted against his stature in the nipping winter breeze. Neither of you moved at first, your cheeks burning from your tears and the cold. He watched you, unsure of your next move or if you even had the life force to pick yourself up enough to be a threat.

You weren’t sure how, but suddenly you found yourself staring at the night sky, your corpse cradled by the icy snowdrifts. Large flakes of translucent white flakes made it seem as if the stars were falling towards you, swirling around the tree limbs and avoiding their grasp. As the black sky began to blur your vision, your body began to feel lighter, the urge to relax becoming overwhelming as you no longer heard the dogs, only the sound of the snow hitting the ground could break through your calm as your eyelids drifted shut.

Bright light streamed into your room, burning your eyes slightly as you came to. Your mind panicked, realizing the sweet smell infiltrating your senses was completely unfamiliar to you. You hesitated to reopen your eyes, your ears picking up on a quiet scrapping noise somewhere in the room you were laying. Your body was stiff; sore even. You could feel someone else in the room. You could tell the other presence wasn’t paying you any mind, but the fact that they were there startled you. Could they be waiting to kill you? Did it matter if you were dead anyway?

You finally mustered enough courage to open your eyes, a bare wood ceiling staring back at you. You turned your head to the side, finally spotting the other person. You could tell by the broadness of his shoulders that it was the man in the woods. Images from that night flashed into your mind as you looked at him. The look of worry that had painted his features into pitted darkness was wiped clean, instead, a healthy calm settled over his face.

His feet were kicked up at the end of your bed, a book resting on his lap as he leaned back in an old chair. He held a bright green apple and a knife, lazily cutting a slice for himself as his eyes skimmed the pages like he’d read the words over and over in the past. A blush crept to your cheeks as your gaze traveled to the part of his chest peeking from beneath his open shirt. His pink hair was braided back with a hint of messiness like the escaping tendrils were planned. What wasn’t tied back hung freely around his strong shoulders.

It scorned you to think in such a way, but you figured you really were dead and some Roman god was waiting to send you to the Fields of Mourning, or, more accurately in your case, Tartarus.

As you moved to sit up, pain spiked throughout your body, joints aching with soreness and the sharpness of your wounds signaling your nerve endings. You groaned, attempting to fight through your instinct to cry. The man watched you, an eyebrow raised in your direction as his deadpanned expression surveyed your actions. He cut another piece of apple off, the blade pressing against the pad of his thumb without bother.

“You should probably hold still,” he stated, ruby irises flashing over your pathetic state. You eyed him carefully before lowering yourself back into the pillows. You reached up to touch the cut that you knew would scar from one of the men. Their blade had sliced across your cheek; a failed attempt to decapitate you. Your brows furrowed slightly as your fingers moved into your hair, finding it crudely cut near the bottom of your ears. You looked at him, mustering the panic you felt into your expression. His eyes softened in guilt. “I’m sorry. I had to hide you rather quickly after you passed out. It worked,” he mumbled the last part.

You swallowed; the dryness of your throat felt like sandpaper as you opened your mouth to speak. “Where’s my bag?” You croaked; your voice as foreign to you as the man sitting before you.

He wet his lips as he sat forward in the chair, settling his feet on the ground and his elbows on his knees. You watched his muscles flex as he moved. You could tell he was no stranger to manual labor, and by the slight dusting of sunburn painting his nose beneath his freckles, you figured he usually spent more time outside. The sunspots reminded you of your friend, Dream; a man that now helped to lead the tetrarchy dismantling the kingdom.

“I’ve hidden it. Just until I know you won’t kill me, or until you’re better,” he answered plainly. “I know what nightshade can do.” You narrowed your eyes at him slightly, your fingers curling around the soft blankets covering you. He stood, sticking the book into a spot in the array of shelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling. “I seem to be sheltering our local Locusta, huh?” He quipped.

You wet your lips. “Just because I travel with nightshade doesn’t make me an Emperor killer,” you grumbled, watching the way his shirt gave little heed to his strong frame. The curtains moved in the slight breeze swirling into the room.

The man moved toward you, dragging the chair closer to your head. “They sure went after you like you were,” he stated bluntly.

You perked an eyebrow at him. “From one point of view, it could seem like that…” you jested.

He smirked slightly, shaking his head before pulling back your covers. You almost shrieked at the sight of all the bandages twisting around your limbs. You wiggled your toes, sighing in relief that you paralyzed from the waist down. If you didn’t move, you didn’t hurt, but as soon as you angled yourself upward to lean on your elbows, your whole body protested in pain. The man skimmed his fingers along the bandages wrapping around your shin. You could practically feel the heat of his body seeping into your own.

You watched his delicate fingers smooth an edge that was ruffled from the sheets and you moving about. “This one was rather deep,” he commented, his fingers then traveling towards your side as his ruby eyes danced from yours to your bandages. Your breath hitched at his closeness, his presence commanding. “A friend of mine helped me stitch you up over here.”

“Were you the one that dressed me?” You snarked, letting your eyes travel the length of his body.

He chuckled lowly, pulling the blankets back over you and sitting back in the chair. He tucked some of his hair away from his face, kicking his feet up on the bed again. “I had to,” he answered. You chewed on your bottom lip, your eyebrows giving away your slight flirtations. You knew he was only humoring you because you were his injured little bird. “I’ve seen a naked woman before. Calm down,” he grumbled.

You smirked, tucking your arms behind your head. “Oh, you have now?” He bit into the apple he was holding, the blush creeping to his eyes not going without notice by you. “How long have I been out, oh great Asclepius?” You joshed, making him chew the inside of his cheek.

His eyes drifted towards the window in thought before slightly furrowing his brows. “Just over a week,” he replied. “Should I be concerned about your knowledge of Roman history over Greek?”

You scoffed, partially in disbelief for how much time had elapsed, partially in response to his question. “Should I be concerned of your favoring of Greek history?” The corner of his mouth turned up slightly. “Perhaps we’re just destined to be emulations of each other then?”

“Maybe so,” he concurred. The stoicism of his façade seemed to crack around you. As he smiled at you, he bore small fangs, something that seemed all too familiar to you. Your mind began to race, attempting to place his features with a name or, at the very least, a legend.

Your mind clicked, Dream’s voice flashing into your mind from when the two of you were sitting in a tavern, discussing the Blood God of the western woods. Your heart began to pick up speed as reality had settled in of how vulnerable to you in front of such a beast. Your mind ran blank and cold as you looked at him, suddenly terrified that if you dare close your eyes again, he would kill you.

You had not expected him to be so… alluring. You’d heard stories of his piglin appearance, his wild tusks, and even cloven hooves. The man before you looked like a character pulled from an ancient storybook, not someone who had torn some of your acquaintances' limb from limb. Dream always mocked a prayer to the old gods each time his name was mentioned. They told stories of the man in orphanages like the ones you’d been passed between.

Now, as you sat like a wounded animal in the gaze of the Blood God, you wondered which of the pair of you would kill the other first. “Not feeling so chatty anymore, Locusta?” He teased.

You could feel the color draining from your face. “I know who you are.” You swallowed harshly. “Why did you help me?”

He sighed, chuckling to himself. “I thought you were pretty,” he teased. You folded your hands on your chest, looking up at the ceiling once again. “I no longer live up to my legacy,” he answered.

“I’m a killer.” You turned your head to look at him, receiving his indifferent expression head-on. “I could kill you.”

He wet his lips. “I could kill you,” he mirrored. “Wouldn’t it be more fun if we didn’t, though?”

You stared at him blankly. “Is this a trick?”

He scoffed. “I would have left you out in the snow if I planned on killing you. I would have given you up when the Royal Guard came knocking down my door,” he paused for a second. His eyes analyzing you as you controlled your breathing. “I would have slit your throat at the sight of the Mad King’s mark. Trust me, I have no intention of killing you.”

Your fingers reached to brush against the branded scar on your shoulder; a triquetra knot symbolizing your loyalty to the Mad King and his sons. It set you apart from the normal guard; you were an advisor and a trusted associate of the King. After the fall of the monarchy, you’d been on the run because of it. What you’d once worn as a badge of honor was now proving to be the sigil of your downfall.

Despite your mellowing fear of him, your mind searched for answers. “Who are you if not the Blood God?” You questioned, the silence between the two of you breaking hesitantly.

“Techno,” he replied, his eyes searching your face as if he were looking for your approval.

You pushed yourself to roll onto your side, gazing at him with calculating eyes, wanting to understand him completely. “I like Asclepius better,” you whispered.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Hi <3 I'm not sure if you're comfortable writing this but I'll try :) Smth where Buckys girlfriend suffers from a lung illness and normally he supports her whenever she feels bad, but one time he's on a long mission where he cant be there when he struggles breathing. Then the other Avengers at the compound take her to the hospital and call Buck who immediately rushes home to be by your side and it's all cute and fluffy in the end? :) Thank you very much <3

Trapped Air

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | whilst on a mission, you suffer with your breathing problems, leaving all to panic as you have air trapped in your lungs.

Warnings | breathing problems, angst, mentions of death, swearing, mentions of torture

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

There had been no call back from Bucky; he was on a mission far away, and deep undercover, and the fact that you had no response did not surprise you, however, it was impossible not to feel overcome with worry.

From what you knew, he was somewhere in Austria with Steve, and most likely irritated by the company of Sam. The thought of them together, waiting for further intel made you smile, and so you sat up on the sofa; the place where you had fallen into a rural slumber late the previous evening. That thought also made you lightly snicker to yourself, and had you grasping your chest in agony at the action.

You adjusted your seat on the sofa, kicking the blanket under your legs as you tried to relax your entire body. To subdue the worry for your love that you had and were experiencing, you and Nat had watched a movie, your head running with thoughts of the danger that your boyfriend was possibly under.

It was no doubt that James Buchanan Barnes, the White Wolf and former Winter Soldier was a fine fighter; he had endured and survived wars, achieving victory in the vast majority of his battles. But still, he was nothing more than a man, with a veil of serum coursing through his veins, and whilst it made him much stronger, he was still sustainable to injury, and worse.

Countless times had you seen him braised in bruises, and kissed along the seam of his scars, and though he had lived through decades, and still appeared unscathed considering the circumstances, he was a mortal man, able to die and it was far too clear for your scared eyes that he wouldn’t be able to survive every fall.

An emptiness peeled away inside of you as you placed the phone down, resting your head upon the arm of the sofa of where you had done so priorly. Taking a deep breath, you wheezed, feeling nothing more than internal pain, and it was not just for your longing to see Bucky again. It was indeed something else, a condition that you had grown used to over the years.

It had taken everything from you; the job that you had so well partook in was diminished to being unsuitable for your health. Being an avenger had once been your only purpose, but it had been the one thing that had broken you. From all the rubble and other pesticides that you had breathed in, it had tampered with your lungs, and made you to be nothing more than a victim, a fallen hero.

The worse thing about being fallen in such a way was that you had not died on the job, instead, you were being tormented every time you watched your friends leave the compound, carrying a duffel bag that had all the necessities that they could possibly need for the gruelling months ahead on the missions that they had been sent on.

Knowing that if you weren’t so inwardly broken and that if that were the case, you could have easily accompanied Bucky and the others on their uncover op made you feel worthless, and disposable. As your chest raked the air that surpassed its roots, it waded a feeling through every limb that was attached to you.

Large gulps from the air machine that was beside you usually helped, but as your brought the medically introverted oxygen mask to surround the lower half of your face, the torturous sensation failed to fade. It remained, stuck in the collapse of your airways, refusing to allow air into your defined bloodstream.

The factor alone had you panicking, and as you went to stand, there was a pounding fire coursing through your head. Your eyes got dreary, fluttering as you reached out to grasp for the side of the seating area to stabilise your steps. But it wasn’t enough, all of your weight leant to one side, and a loud and colossal smash echoed through the room.

You helplessly laid there, having no ability to get up, as the shards of the glass table that had tried to break your fall, and had ended up breaking instead, stabbed mercilessly into the canvas of your back. It made you feel like a dartboard, free to the attempts of anything that put a bet on to try. This was your final fall from greatness, and if you weren’t to survive this, that would be o-

“Y/n.” A voice rushed out, as footsteps scrambled to come to your side. The silouhette of a blurry man knelt beside you, sickened with their own scheme of panic. “Nat!” He called out towards the kitchen, you hearing the pitter patter of her assumed footsteps that were toed in competent heels.

“Clint, what happened?” She asked, but giving him a break to compose his answer as she called warily out for FRIDAY, relieved when the AI answered her order. “Get one of Stark’s cars ready to go to the hospital, inform who needs to know. Y/n’s just had a nasty fall, and I assume more.”

“She was like this when I got in here.” Was the archer’s delirious response. His hands raised your head out of the cracked pieces, gently picking the sharp crystals out of your hair. He was sick with worry, he knew that you were touring a difficult road, one that no one else on the team could fathom to understand, but despite all that, he was still there for you, as were the numerous others.

Wearing his priceless suit, Tony rushed into the room, his brown eyes blown wide as he scoped the scene. “She’s losing consciousness.” Nat informed the pair, focusing on how your eyes barely had the strength to stay open. Your breathing was laboured, and the choke emitting from it was audible, making all witnesses wince from the threatening sound.

“My car is ready, on our way to the ER, give Barnes a call.” He held the keys to his vehicle, swinging them around his finger, as he watched Clint and Natasha hoist you up, and support you through the journey to the front of the compound. Nat stroked your hair as she bit back her own tears, combing tenderly through the slightly bloody tresses to soothe her own present anxiety.

The mission was turning out to be a bust, they were tracking Zemo after his great escape; hence why their departure was classified. It was unknown why the once Baron of Sokovia had fled to the country, but all prior intel had supported the idea that he was searching for a partner to help finish his work, if he were to ever get caught by the American government again.

Bucky hated being away from the place that had slowly become his home. It made him feel lost, but if he wanted to remain within said area to continue his life, he had to follow Fury’s orders, or else the panel that had granted him freedom for all his past actions, may happen to change his mind.

The gig of being an avenger was more of Steve’s expertise, he was loved by the country, and had never tried to break its order down piece by piece. Before he was cleared to join the team, and the debate that lead to Steve and Tony siding against one another, he was nothing more than a tense ghost story.

All knew he was real, but most were too scared to admit that the Winter Solider was an assassinating figure in existence. To everyone’s dismay now, following rule number two, he was no longer HYDRA’s pet weapon. He, for the first time in his life, had some kind of clarity on who he was.

His identity, was James Bucky Barnes, the White Wolf, the protector of the world and a renounced ally of Wakanda. And he was happy to be known as such, in a way, the new him cleared his red ledger, and that faded away with that damned red book.

No one had the power to control his mind again, all of his actions were now completely up to him. At first, with the reign over himself, he had been unsure on how to start with this new and invented soldier that he had become. He was no longer taking refuge behind the facade of T’Challa’s country anymore, for he was no a wanted man of the state.

But Sam enjoyed prodding at his ‘cyborg brain’, driving him to certain frustration. Though, it did not matter as much, for he found the peace he had been searching for after that little bit of calm that he had experienced on his hideaway.

You. A retired avenger, that had kicked his ass, and continued to brag about it to this day, when he was under Pierce’s demeaning orders. Though, it saddened him, to have the knowledge that you no longer had the ability to pin him down on a training mat, or throw his best friend’s shield in his silent face.

There was no longer an ignition of strength to fight left within you, you were weak from the condition that had and was holding you hostage in its devastating grasp. The debts of your god deeds had wormed their way through your body, destroying it bit by bit.

Whenever he was away, missing the presence that you had once accompanied him with, he was unable but to do anything but worry about your struggling health. He feared that one day, he would get a call claiming that you had experienced a traumatic accident, and as he sat in the small and cluttered motel room, the vibrancy and life that his phone was off putting had him nervously on edge.

“It’s Fury.” He claimed to his rugged partners, putting the man that had regained control of his empire on loud speaker, awaiting for the patch wearing associate to respond to his acceptance of the call. A moment of silence had him standing, the next, caused him to pace. Steve frowned, well aware that Fury only went silent, and did not barking affirmative orders when something had happened.

That man was an absolute whore for the dramatics, he had even faked his own death on multiple accounts. There was nothing the man could fathom not to do, and this sure as hell, in the name of Goose, was not the first instance he had informed his recruits of shocking factors. Steve remembered when the dark clothed man informed him that he was in the 21st century, and to this day, it remained to be the greatest shock that he had experienced.

The second had got to be the reveal of Bucky’s survival, that heart stopping moment had gone in slow motion, as the soldat whipped his unmasked face around to face his opponents, and he was quickly recognised. You had been there to ease the confusion and the humongous shock that wired his brain. And not to mention, to soothe the wave of emotions, you had prompted at jokes at about kicking his best friend’s fine ass.

That had only been the start to a long road ahead, it had all seemed like your quad of rebelling would go on forever. Sam Wilson was your best friend, and the first to be told of your failure to continue your raids on missions, and to say that he was holding back fountains in his eyes, was a casual understatement. The Falcon had felt angry at himself for not realising the increase in coughs that fled from your sassy mouth, or how quickly you would get tired.

He put some of that blame upon himself, claiming that he should have been the first to notice the signs. It was his idea, before your struggles were revealed to anyone else, to refuse your aid on missions, which lead to conspiracies from the team. For a couple of weeks, the members that you had fought alongside for so long had speculated that you were pregnant,and even Bucky had even began to fall for that idea.

In the end, they had all wished for that to be true, a child would be a gift, whereas instead, you were bestowed with a curse. Sam had offered for you to stay with Sarah and the kids, but upon your insistence, you remained in the compound, organising files and watching cinematic classics for the thousandth time.

But anyone could see, that every time they discussed the missions, of left to endure them, your face fell, appeased by the thought that you’d never share that experience again. They all tried to distract you, Thor had even taken you on a vacation to New Asgard so that you could relax and play video games with Korg, yelling frustratedly at Noobmaster69 as the kid tried to spite your friend and his gaming skills.

That though, had not ended well, and instead, the noise had brought you insufferable pain, and you had to be taken home. But what was home anymore? You hardly felt as though you belonged upon the army of your friends, or the guardians that they were aligned with.

And so, it was very understandable why Bucky was inclined to worry. All his dragged our life, he had watched people die, or awakened from cryo to find them gone, and the split moments that he were required on missions, was another moment that he had lost with you.

He gulped as he waited for Fury to say something, anything! And when he did, he wished that he could go back in time, and stop you from ever having been an avenger. “It’s agent Y/L/N, something has happened...”

It had been hours of no news, and Stark tapped his well dressed foot. He had requested, - no, insisted the best doctors to tend to your internal and external injury, claiming that if your condition was made any worse, he would personally make sure that they never tended to another patient again.

He was not usually one to be so aggressive, but he feared loss, it was a great flaw and attribute of his. Possibly, in some people’s judgemental eyes, he cared too much, but he never thought so. To him, the billionaire was human, no matter what the citizens over the world thought of him.

Sure, he wore an iron suit to protect the world, but beneath all the metal, he had a heart. And he’d be damned sure that he used it, and that it beat for a purpose. Natasha and Clint were either side of him, the assassins on her phone as she read the captain’s well written message.

“They’ve entered the country.” She spoke, referring to Sam, Bucky and Steve. It was a relief that they were going to be here soon, then they’d all look sane in comparison to Barnes. It was doubtful that he was holding himself together well, these hours had been torture to all of them, but he had actually been tortured in multiple gruelling occasions, but it was nothing in comparison to this.

One of the country’s best and devoted doctors opened the door to the room that you were being stabilised in, leading to all eyes waiting outside to stare hopefully at him. It was an intimidating thing, to have three avengers leaving him with one of their owns lives in his hands, he was not a hero. But to them, he was to be, they trusted him and the various recommendations that had suggested that he would be best suited to the deed.

The fact that he was the man in charge in this situation was to be great steak in his career, though, he would never be able to anyone, not even family, that he had saved the life of an avenger. Due to doctor patient confidentially, he was bribed into silence by the philanthropist himself, who was certain that he was fine for paying for the entire service himself.

Money had no importance to Tony, not as his friend was the patient that could have died. The man removed his sunglasses, sternly looking up at the kind doctor with pleading and urgent eyes, wanting to scoop every detail that he could from the eccentric medic. “How is she?”

The doctor gulped, well aware that there was a weight apparent on his shoulders, even when delivering any news. But this, was a whole new experience, he knew that you, the woman hoisted up in the hospital bed, had saved his coursing during the battle of New York. He was grateful, for everything that you had done, but simultaneously, felt the need to be careful with any tactic that he used to save your life.

“Well,” he licked his dry lips, watching as the Black Widow herself stared into his soul, “she’s stable, for now. And it would be okay if one of you went in, she’s currently in the midst of waking up. However, she is going to be unable to give much in the verse of a conversation, the oxygen mask that she’s wearing has to stay on, and it will not be a good if she tries to waste the breath she’s being given to talk.”

He was interrupted by the sound of competent running down the hall, it was as though the men dressed in their gear ignored the no running rule. But it was understandable, seeing as Bucky’s eyes were wild and wide, as he came to a stop and asked what was going on. Clint stood, bracing a hand upon his shoulder, before informing him the details they had just been given. “I think you should be the first to see her.”

Bucky didn’t argue with Clint, and instead, walked into the room, ensuring that he shut the door behind himself. He smiled painfully at the sight; there were so many tubes, and all the surrounding machines were lit up with statistics that he did not understand. Nevertheless, he looked towards the vacant seat beside your bed, and claimed it for his ass that you had once kicked.

Your eyes watched as he looked down upon you, your hands reaching to remove the mask, but he placed his hand upon your own, and replaced them to be upon your chest. “Shush darling, no talking, doctor’s orders.” He spoke, rubbing your cheek with his right hand, feeling the corner of the mask against the inside of his palm.

“Had me so worried doll, thought I was gonna lose you.” At the thought, a grimace presented itself of his woeful face, and to comfort him, you placed your fingers around his own, absentmindedly playing with them as you listened to his sincere voice. “On the way here, I spoke to Shuri, we are going to see if she can help you in anyway, as long as you’re okay with that. Does that sound good baby?”

Fluttering your eyelashes as you looked through their webbed curtain to stare lovingly at him, you nodded your head, ignoring the spiteful pains that emitted from where the glass had shallowly penetrated your scalp. “Alright, I’ll let her know. And I was thinking...” he waited for a moment to continue, being encouraged by the crease between his brow line.

“What if we stay in Wakanda, and we leave all this behind? We can still see people when they visit, and we can just, have some calm to ourselves. No missions, no aliens to fight, and no Zemo to chase. Or I was thinking, we go and live by Sarah, you love those kids, they’re basically your nephews, and we could take boat rides during the middle of the night, and help the people who live there, and...”

At his rambling, you smiled beneath the plastic system that was around your mouth, listening to him talk and talk about your future together. Yes, you missed missions, but you would give all that up for a normal and easy life, with Bucky Barnes.

[cloudytamaki]

traffic lights • i.hajime

⤷ genre: angst / fluff - hurt / comfort

⤷ warnings: mentions of death, car accidents, arguments

⤷ summary: it’s never good to leave the apartment on a rainy night with hurt feelings.

“you can’t be fucking serious, hajime! this isn’t fair at all, did you ever take my feelings into consideration?”

“i can’t believe you, y/n! you’re making this so goddamn bigger than it needs to be! i’m just needed a few hours later at work, do i need your permission to earn money?”

outside, the rain pours down, loud against the roof. streams of water slide down the windows and create puddles beside the house.

inside, you stand in front of your partner, throat sore from all the yelling you’ve been doing. tears of frustration glisten in your eyes as you snap another venomous remark at him.

“you know what, hajime? think about the house when you get home. there’s food on the table, everything is clean and tidy! who do you think does all that work after they come home from work? me! it’s getting to be too much, damn it! you live here too, you need to start helping me out more.”

“help you out more?” he scoffs in disbelief, “does paying the bills every month help you out enough? all the work i do is the only reason you even have a house to clean up in the afternoon!”

“okay.” you back away from him, keeping your voice calm (although you’re absolutely fuming). “i’m leaving.” you snatch a nearby jacket — not caring who it belongs to — and grab the keys from the hooks.

“if you leave now, you’d better not come back.” he barks out, each word stabbing you in the chest.

“i don’t plan on it.” you snap back, slamming the door behind you. soon, he hears the rumble of the truck’s engine, and then the screech of the tires as you speed away from your apartment.

you mutter every swear word possible, so pissed off you could barely think. once you’re far away enough from home (could you even call it that right now?), you twist the steering wheel so sharply to the right you can hear the tires slide dangerously against the wet pavement.

you’re hunching over the wheel, eyes narrowed as the windshield wipers desperately try to sweep away the rain. it’s getting hard to see through the now foggy glass — you keep going anyway.

slowly pulling out of the street and deciding to head over to the gas station for some snacks, you press on the gas and drive to the left. however, a car is driving out of the street you’re passing — you’re about to be hit.

slamming your palm down on the horn, you twist the steering wheel cruelly to avoid any impact; the truck hurtles down the street, left side of the truck bed smashing into the street post as one of the tires slips up onto the curb — and the car flies up into the air — for a second you think you see jesus.

but the second you process what’s happening and how your legs could be fatally crushed, the car slams down onto its right. pieces of crystal windshield glass drop down into the passenger seat beside you. all you can feel and remember is the way the truck flipped up into the air.

“oh my god!” you hear a male voice from your left and a head peaks through the shattered window, “call 911!”

back at the apartment, hajime’s still fuming — but now, most of his anger is towards himself. how could he allow his temper to get the best of him? why would he say such shitty things to you when all you wanted was some help at home?

he buries his head in his hands, combing his fingers through his spikes when his phone vibrates against his leg, a cheesy ringtone filling the silence — the ringtone you picked for him.

“hello?”

“hi, is this iwaizumi hajime?” he furrows his brows at the voice. it sounds like another guy.

“yes.” he answers gruffly, eyebrows furrowing deeply. questions run through his head before he speaks up again. “may i ask who’s calling?”

“i’m a paramedic.” he freezes at the words. “i’m calling to inform you that — is it—” the voice stops to think for a second, “l/n y/n? she’s been in a car crash, sir. she told us to call you—”

“shit.” he mutters under his breath, blood running cold as his right hand comes up to angrily tug at his hair, “where is it? where are you?”

“would you like to speak to l/n y/n?”

“yes,” he says tightly, heart pounding in his chest.

“hajime?” he’s so relieved to hear your voice, but he can sense the way you’re almost wincing. “the truck’s fucking totaled, i’m sorry.”

“where the hell are you?” iwaizumi isn’t angry, but panicked.

“uh...” you pause for a second, “carlson boulevard, near the food store.”

“i – i’m on my way.”

you hang up on the other end and the line’s immediately dead. iwaizumi jumps up, throwing open the closet and grabbing a jacket. he dashes into the garage, almost saying a fucking prayer; thank god he got the car checked and fixed up yesterday.

he opens the garage door and gets into the smaller blue car, squeezing the wheel and taking a deep breath before closing the door and taking off down the street.

when he gets to the scene, hajime’s eyes widen in disbelief. the truck’s on its side, windshield glass everywhere, bystanders peeking out through their curtains, police officers talking to you while you hold an ice pack to your head.

he parks the car and jumps out. the street sign is in someone’s front lawn and different coins are sparkling on the pavement. the pennies and quarters he’d saved for drive through’s, the little flower crown you’d hung on the rear view mirror ripped up — destroyed.

his lips part in a silent gasp. “sir?” an officer calls him over; he can hardly look at you. you’re all wet from the rain, clothes absolutely soaked.

words are exchanged back and forth but he barely processes them; you’ll be fine, the officer says, you’ll just need some rest. as for the truck, it’s totaled beyond repair. you’ll have to buy a new one or just get around with the tiny blue car.

the officer says goodbye to the both of you and walks away to assist with the cleanup of the wreck. he walks in silence beside you to the blue car, but before the both of you can get into the car, he emits a strangled sob; your head twists up in surprise.

it’s fucking raining and— shit. is he crying?

he aggressively wipes at his face, but the tears keep coming. you step over to him, removing his arms away from his reddened cheeks. “y-y/n—” he can’t get out your name without even breaking down.

“it’s my fault. i made you get into that accident... i – i’m so sorry—” he stiffens at first when you embrace him, but relaxes a little bit once you rub your hand over his back.

“hajime. it – it’s not your fault, please don’t think that, okay?” you lift his chin so his head can face yours. he looks so vulnerable, clearly suffering from the guilt and self deprecation. “okay?” you repeat, your eyes piercing his.

he nods wordlessly, hugging you tighter before he eventually pulls away, opening the door to the car. “i love you.”

you press a kiss to his trembling lips, ignoring the throbbing in your head.

“i love you too.”

[the-broken-truth]

A Returning Heart - Alcina Dimitrescu x Male Character

Summary: The Bloodline of House Dimitrescu has been destroyed by Ethan Winters, but will it remain that way? A cloaked figure approached the castle with one thing in mind - Can love transcend death?

Quick Note: The Explosion didn't destroy the Castle or that area of the village. Also, the male will not be given a name.

"Here are your purchases, My Lord." The Duke smiled as he handed 4 horizontal boxes out to the cloaked figure before him who took them in his arms but set the 3 smaller boxes down before opening the longest box. The cloaked man opened the long box - the Duke could see a long smile on the man's face as he gazed into the contents of the box before sealing the lid on it again.

"Perfect. What can you tell me about the other lords? Do you have their remains as well?" The man asked.

"But of course - after Ethan Winters killed the lords, he sold their remains to me for a fair amount of Lei. Would you like theirs as well?" Duke asked with a smile.

"Not at this moment. Once I make sure everything is in order, I shall come back for the remaining lords. And what of Miranda & the mutamycete?" The man asked.

"No longer in existence, My Lord. Ethan Winters and his company completely destroyed them - as well as the other Lords' Domains with the limitation of Lady Dimitrescu Castle and the Central and Northern Villages." Duke said.

"I'll take care of that as well." The man said as he reached down and gathered all of the boxes in his arms and started his way up the path to the grand castle that still stood.

"This is going to be interesting," Duke said as he got his notebook to make note of this. "It's not everything someone like that comes to the village."

[At Castle Dimitrescu]

The figure pushed the metal door of the castle open with one hand while the other held the boxes to his side. He looked around the room he now stood in before cracking a smile.

'Not much has changed.' He chuckled to himself before he made his way through the castle until he reached Castle Dimitresc's Hall of the Four (The Location where the masks go.). He opened the first box and gazed upon its contents before reaching in and pulling out the crystalized remains of The Royal Dragon - Alcina Dimitrescu, herself. He smiled at the crystal remains for a while before he placed them in the center of the room before going back to the other 3 boxes and opened them - showing 3 crystals torso that was small than Lady Dimitrescu's but each one had a gem placed in their chests - the first one he picked up bore a red gem.

'Bela.' the man thought as he placed the red-gemmed torso next to Alcina's. He back to the other two and picked up the second one - which bore a yellow gem.

'Cassandra.' He thought before placing it next to the other two in the center of the hall. He rose to his feet again and gathered the last one - a green gem in the chest of its chest.

'Daniela.' He echoed in his mind before placing it with the others.

Once they were all in place - he lifted his right hand which was engraved with runes of an unknown language. He cleared his throat before he spoke in Romanian.

"Din amurg până în zori. Din carne, sânge și os. Din aceste fragmente fragile, poruncesc - întoarce-te la care ai fost odată și mergi din nou pe acest pământ." The runes on his arm began to glow a blinding white light when a circle surrounded each of the remains and consumed them in a pillar of blinding light. The man watched and waited until he saw the remains float and take new form - this made him smile widely.

[About 3 Hours Later.]

A feminine groan filled the air of the Castle Main Hall has eyes began to flutter open, revealing a gold hue. The woman allowed her eyes to readjust to see - she was on a familiar floor. She pushed herself off the ground before groaning again and placing her hand on her head.

"My head...What happened? The last thing I remembered was..." Her eyes widened as memories began flooding back in her mind.

The meeting with her family.

Her daughters bringing her that Man-Thing.

The man-thing escaping and killing her eldest.

The pain she felt of loss.

Hunting that man-thing over and over again before he killed her last two daughters.

Tracking him to the chapel but getting stabbed with the dagger.

Then...dying.

"He killed me... I know he did, but then..." She looked at her hands. "How am I alive?" Alcina wondered as she tried to find an answer. Sudden movement at her right made her eyes dart and widen - instant tears filled them.

"My head...What happened?" the young girl asked.

"BELA!" Alcina said as she scurried to her daughter and engulfed in her a hug; surprising the girl who returned the hug.

"M...Mother?" Bela asked as she looked into Alcina's golden eyes.

"I'm here, little one; Momma's here now." Alcina said as she held her daughter more.

Bela looked behind her mother and her eyes widened.

"Mother - Cassandra and Daniela!" Bela said making Alcina look behind her to see her middle child and youngest also wake up. Alcina and Bela gathered the other two in hugs and all of them hugged and cried for at least 30 minutes before rising to their feet.

"I don't get it." Daniela began. "That man-thing killed us. How are we here?" She asked.

"Dani's right - I remember dying." Bela said.

"Then I ended up dying trying to avenge Bela." Cassandra said.

"And I died the library when that man-thing got the Iron Key." Daniela finished.

"That accursed man-thing stabbed me the Dagger of Deaths Flowers and managed to defeat my dragon form. How are we all here? Did Mother Miranda bring us back to life?" Alcina asked.

"I'm afraid Miranda had nothing to do with this - she can't do anything now that she's dead." A male voice called out. The women looked at the top of the stairs leading to the foyer and saw a figure dressed in a cloak with his face covered - only having the lower part of his chin showing.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my castle?!" Alcina demanded as she called forth her dragon's claws.

Broken Truth: That's what I like to call them. The whole 'A Rat can't escape the dragon's claw' was one of my favorite lines in the game; along with 'CASSANDRA!'.

"Calm yourself, Lady Dimitrescu." the male said as he raised his hand to silence her but that only made her angrier.

"You don't tell me what to do in my own castle, you stupid man-thing!" Alcina snarled.

"Geez and here I thought you would be grateful to the one who brought you and your daughters back to life." That made all their eyes widen.

"You brought us back?" Bela asked.

"Wait - why would you do that? Where're the other lords? Where's Mother Miranda?!" Alcina demanded to know.

"As I have said before - Miranda and the other lords are dead, just as the mutamycete no longer exists. Ethan Winters killed you, your daughters, and all the lords before taking out Miranda and destroyed the mutamycete before taking back that which was his." The man said from his place at the top of the stairs.

"That's impossible... All of our hard work - undone by a stupid male?!" Alcina snarled. "That doesn't explain why you brought me and my daughters back to life." Alcina said.

"Let's say - I was bringing back that which was once mine." The man said as he slowly started his way down the stairs. "A long time ago - I took up residence in this place as a loyal servant and became something more but short-minded humans came here to destroy you and those you held dear but I refused to let that happen and to save 4..." the male stopped at the bottom of the stairs and pulled the hood off - revealing his face: short brown hair, with emerald green eyes, and a familiar scar across his face. "I threw myself on the blade to keep my loved ones safe." He smiled at the wide eyes on the daughters' faces, as well as the tears that began to build in the dragon's eyes. He held his arms open in a welcoming manner. "I've returned to you, my family."

"FATHER/PAPA/DADDY!!!" The shouts of the daughters rung out as they ran into the male's arms, who held them as if they were something precious.

"It's okay, girls. I'm here now."

"I don't understand..." Alcina said as she tried to hold back her tears. "I saw you die - you threw yourself on the sword to save me from getting killed." Alcina said as she walked over to the group.

"I've been reborn since the time I lost you - while in this body, I attended a school and learned about dragons; that reminded me of you, awoke the memories of my past life and my bond to you. I was determined to return to you but I knew I had to become more so I trained myself in the arts of magic. It was a good thing too - when I learned about what happened, I had the skills to return that which I lost back to the world of the living." He explained.

Alcina looked into his eyes - those eyes darker than the tree's leaves during summer - the last time she saw them, they were as dull as sandstone but they were before her again.

He was here.

He was with her again.

And he gave back what she lost.

"MY LOVE!" Alcina fell to her knees and hugged the man and her daughters in one hug. She didn't want to let go of him; scared that this was all a dream and she was never going to see him again, that all of this would fade away and she would be back in the nothingness again.

"Shh...It's okay, Alci." He said as he began to wrap his arms around her neck to hug her for the first time in centuries. "I'm here, My Dragoness, and I shall not leave you or our daughters again." And this time - he was intending on keeping that promise.

Translation

"Din amurg până în zori. Din carne, sânge și os. Din aceste fragmente fragile, poruncesc - întoarce-te la care ai fost odată și mergi din nou pe acest pământ." - From dusk until dawn. From flesh, blood, and bone. From these fragile fragments, I command - return to which you once were and walk this earth again.

[yanderestevenuniverse]

Yandere sanerio: Steven finds your diary

I finally managed to sneak some paper away from him without him noticing if he did well... I don’t want to think about it. I’m going to try and keep track of everything in this diary I guess maybe I can even use this as evidence against him if I ever get out

Today I tried to get out he left I took a chance and I failed he caught me. But the strangest thing I saw was that there was nobody in the town nearby just broken windows and cobwebs... where is everyone or what did Steven do to them

What did he do to his family I knew about the crystal gems and thought they might be able to help me but instead he just showed me cracked gems I know he’s crazy but this is just a whole new level I could probably stab him and he wouldn’t even notice it. I’ve got to get out of here I hate him

Steven collapsed to the floor dropping the pieces along with him hot wet salty tears fell down his face the illusion was broken waves of guilt pain sorrow anger and about a million other emotions hit him again and again. It’s okay it’s okay it’s okay he whispered to himself over and over again every thing is fine just bottle it up block it out block it out... and so he did he got off the floor the tears in his eyes coming to a halt steven walked out of the room and down the stairs leaving the paper on the floor. You know what things were better like this everything was fine he had a normal girlfriend a normal life

EVERY THING WAS FINE

[the-slasher-files]

Lester n Vincent ( hcs) reacting to reader who is having a really bad anxiety attack and they pass out in their arms please and happy new year 🥺✨

Congrats you're my first person to request Lester lol Happy new year to you as well!... Ok so I went kind of wild with these and made them longer story based hcs, also added more slashers just for fun :) Hopefully I did Lester justice since this is my first write for him! Also warning, there is gore, blood and stress lol.. enjoy🔪💕

MASTERLIST

SLASHERS REACT TO S/O THAT HAS A PANIC ATTACK

INCLUDES JASON, MICHAEL, BO, VINCENT and LESTER

JASON VOORHEES

It was a night you saw him kill for the first time. The blood covered the branches of the bushes and oozed in the soil around you. The moonlight illuminated the plastic hockey mask now sprayed in a crimson paint, his chest rose and fell deeply, enough to see some bones sticking out from unhealed wounds.

At Jason’s feet were 3 teenagers' corpses. You knew what he did but seeing the bodies be brutally cut down 10 feet away from you was another story.

When you had woken up from a nap Jason was gone, he didn’t tell you people had been at the camp, if he did you would not have been on this walk in the first place, but you knew he would never wake you up. The words stupid, stupid, stupid screamed in your brain as you watched the bodies twitch and pour streams of blood. Would Jason be mad at you? Would he hurt you too? oh my god is that person really dead or still breathing?

You started to breathe heavy and choke when they caught the back of your throat violently, Jason moved towards you slowly. Even though you knew how gentle he was with you, you still questioned him at this moment; the blood flowing beneath boots, the smell of rich dirt and copper, the way the nature fell eerily silent following the high pitched wails of the victims, and the way the creature tore through the bodies with ease. It was all so animalistic. Wicked and ruthless.

Locking eyes with Jason you walked back a few steps, his blue eyes were dark, pupils blown with something you had never seen before, this was the killer of camp crystal lake. Throwing his machete to the ground he held out his large hands, gently pulling up his mask as if that might help.

Your throat was closing and hot tears started to flow down your cheeks, broken gasps and whimpers rose from your chest as Jason stood towering over you.

“J-jay..” you cried and felt yourself go lightheaded as his large bloodied hand reached for you, one last tough inhale and your world went black.

Coming to, you were in the cabin, with the fire roaring and about 3 blankets on top of you. A large shadow stirred from the kitchen and came into the light. It was Jason with a hot towel and your favourite drink, softly he smiled rushing to your side. He was maskless and all cleaned up, looking under the blanket you were just in your underwear and a t-shirt, cleaned from any blood.

Kneeling down beside you Jason gingerly brushed a few stray hairs from your face and kissed your forehead. You could tell by the way he lingered and how soft his touch was that you scared him and made him worry. Pressing his forehead against yours Jason squeezed his eyes almost trying to tell you that it hurt, you hurt his heart, scared him so badly and made his nightmares come true. It wasn’t your fault he knew and made you aware of that by his touches and kisses.

The sight of you sprayed with blood and going limp under his grasp was something Jason had only seen in the darkest corners of his mind. He is making sure you stay put and knows exactly where he is going next time.

MICHAEL MYERS  

The door creaked open to the bedroom, you had been laying there for a while in and out of sleep, just waiting for Michael’s return. He never slept well, so often Michael found himself lurking in the shadows of the night, or just watching some tv downstairs not wanting to disturb you.

Rolling over you squinted, trying to see in the darkness “Michael..” you whined, reaching out slightly into the shadows.

Soft eyes started to adjust to the darkness and you were met with eyes that weren’t the cold gaze of your lovers, they were alive with curiosity and there was a different maliciousness. This was a much different predator, one the shadows rejected and gave up to you. It was a smaller man in height and muscle, dressed head to toe in black tight-fitting clothes.  

A scream left your lips and you tried to scramble away when gloved hands grabbed your ankles pulling you closer to the stranger. His body weight leaned against your frame, his smell revoltingly encapsulated yours; sure to the average person he might've smelled nice but you only had taste for one dangerous cologne, the one of rich copper and animalistic musk.

Kicking and screaming only one name left your lips, "Michael". It was the only thought you had. You knew Michael would come for you, he always did in bad situations. Your scream was his soft siren call and he was the broken sailor beckoned; however, it was much more possessive and raw than that. Michael never liked his things to be tampered with. You were his and that was that.    

The stranger above you reached in his pockets and found some zip ties, struggling but bounding your legs and wrists together. “what a little fighter” His words sharp and almost making you gag.

Your breath became more and more ragged, blood pumping and heart racing loudly in your ears, while streams of tears flowed. Crippled whimpers and wails caught in your throat more and more with each stroke of the stranger's gloved hands.

That’s when something stirred in the hallway, a flash of navy and white them seamlessly blending into the shadows like a perfected craft. This was his art, not the strangers. “You should be afraid” you choked out. The man gave a laugh “of what?”

“Of me” a deep growl spoke from the shadows. The man widened his eyes looking directly into yours, as Michael reached around and slit his throat from ear to ear. Blood spraying over you, the bed and running a deep crimson river to the floor, choking and deep gurgles filled the air. You watched the life drain from the man's green eyes and he reached out for you to help him ironically. Michael grabbed the man looking him in the eyes, feeding his own sick desires of watching a soul leave the body or maybe wanting the stranger to meet the cold inhumane gaze, making him terrified as he died.

Even though you knew the more than tense situation was over, you just witnessed a man die; he was bleeding, clutching his throat fruitlessly, life leaving his eyes and grabbing for you. It was all too raw and your throat was closing, you could taste the unfamiliar copper on your lips making you shudder in disgust. Michael ripped off the white mask and he propped you up under his knee and one arm, while the other was on his dripping blade.

“Mi-Michael, please” you whimpered against his chest feeling yourself go fuzzy and limp. A rough shake kept you awake for a moment then you saw his knife coming towards you to cut the zip ties and that was it, the world went black.

Waking up, you coughed and sputtered at the warm water that was splashed in your face. You were in the bathtub, warm pinkish water surrounded you and a large hand cupped your jaw while the other wiped some blood away from you and rubbed at the marks on your wrists.

Meeting Michael’s cold gaze, it wasn’t cold, it was oddly warm still with that edge that his damaged eye gave him. “Baby” you whispered reaching a shaky hand to run along his cheek and sharp jaw. Michael didn’t turn away or roughly remove your hand like normal, he allowed your touch and leaned into it, closing his eyes and whispering barely audible “I’m sorry”

BO SINCLAIR

The screams and gunshots had stopped. Only the muffled classical music flowed from the basement where Vincent was working. Usually, Bo would come immediately back home, dragging his bloodied adrenaline-filled frame through the front door. 10 minutes went by then another and another. You began to grow worried and sick to your stomach with anxiety.

Hesitantly you grabbed one of Bo's jackets and heading out to the garage. The familiar scent of ash, teakwood and grease eased you enough to walk down the dimly lit abandoned streets.

Rounding a corner, from the shadows a man reached out for you, it was a man you had seen from this morning and left with Bo in the gas station. He was still alive, covered in blood but still alive. The man pulled you against the wall of the old building. Your heart pounded in your skull and your breath became broken and hitched, hearing footsteps pounding towards you the man whipped you around, placing you in front of him like a shield.

You met the dangerous baby blues of Bo, he was seething, shoulders tensed, neck stiff with veins popping and hands on his shotgun. "Let. Her. Go." Bo's words coated in venom, a wickedness you had never heard before. "Bo" you whimpered as the stranger tightened his hold on you, now placing a sliver shiv to your collar bone.

"If you let me leave, I will let her go.." the stranger negotiated. "We both know that can't happen... how ‘bout you let her go and I won't make ya suffer" Bo shifted his hand on the gun and the stranger raised the blade to your chin, your tears were uncontrolled at this point, silently pleading with Bo to do whatever the man said. "Fuck.. Alright, alright" Bo began to place the gun on the ground slowly, but nodded twice at you, a signal he practiced with you, closing your eyes and inhaling as much as you could, you knew what you had to do. Do what Bo taught you, just in case this might ever happen.

With one quick motion you grabbed the man's wrist pulling and twisting, using your hip to fuel momentum, yanking the man down in a struggle you managed to grab the blade and stab into his neck. At this point it was just adrenaline, you were never supposed to actually kill him, Bo taught you just to wait, but the damage had been done. Blood was on your hands, oozing and spraying with each thump of the man's heart. The scared look in his eyes made you wanna choke, you would never forget this. The whole scene was too raw. You had just killed a man.

Quickly Bo came to your side and beat the strangers' skull in with the end of his shotgun, it was brutal, gory, unmerciful assault. He was gone but Bo was lost in rage, the man touched and threatened what was his.

“Bo... Bo p-please, Bo” your cried pushing yourself along the cold asphalt. Whipping around Bo was not human, he was a beast, covered in blood, huffing and bearing his teeth. “Bo enough” you shook frozen in his gaze “B-baby” whispering to try and bring him back. Bo dropped the bloody gun and stepped towards you, kneeling down he held you, felt every broken gasp and shake. The scene replayed in your head over and over again, suddenly you gave a whimper and felt yourself go limp under Bo’s grasp.

Waking up your eyes adjusted to the warm yellow lighting of the old house, loud footsteps moved in a pattern, back and forth Bo paced until there was some muffled yelling “What do you mean there is nothing you can do?!... she just went limp... Fuck I don’t know... how could she just be fine?!” You let out a whimper and shifted on the old couch and Bo practically ran to you, cupping your face gently but always with a rough edge. His eyes were red, possibly from tears or adrenaline, he shook and breathed heavily.

“Baby, don’t ever do that again!” Bo yelled, most likely rougher than he initially intended but he kissed your forehead gingerly. “You scared the shit outta me!” You knew his yelling was just his fear. The nightmare of losing you could’ve come true tonight, and once the adrenaline wore off you knew he would be gentle again and hold you all night.

VINCENT SINCLAIR

Coming home from a shitty day your anxiety was already higher than normal, you labelled papers wrong at work and just couldn't seem to do anything right today; All you wanted was to just get comfy with some bad food and lay in your boyfriend's arms, forgetting the world. Carrying your exhausted stressed body into the old home, it was quiet; Bo must have been at the garage and maybe Vincent was downstairs.

Tossing your bags and shoes off to the side, you made your way to the basement, guided by candlelight. The eerie silence, the hot air and the creepy faces in the wall made a less than relaxing atmosphere. With each creek of the stairs, your heart seemed to race faster, even though you had made your way down these stairs hundreds of times before there was a different energy here, one with malice, one that drew tingles up your spine.

Rounding the corner, Vincent stood behind some sort of contraption made of metal and leftover medical supplies. The structure held a wax-coated body, one of the men you had lured into town yesterday. Vincent had always kept you away from the making of his creations, it was a brutal process, especially when he usually left the victims alive, Bo said “it gave them more expression if they’re still livin”

Vincent was lost in focus, smoothing the skin and creating delicate textures, if you didn’t know it was a real life person under the wax it honestly might have been soothing to watch, but you swallowed hard at the reality. You felt your throat started to become scratchy and closed with anxiety, clearing your throat it drew the attention of your boyfriend across the room.

You must’ve scared Vincent by your presence because he jolted the metal structure and there was a loud snap. A deep red oozed from the neck of the wax body and pooling on the floor. Vincent’s blue eye looked down to the body then back to you, watching as you covered your mouth and shook.

Rushing over to you Vincent gently placed a hand in your hair and one on your arm trying to steady you, pulling your chin up you saw the worry on his face under the wax mask. He could feel your ragged breathing, shaking and Vincent could have sworn he heard your heartbeat. Clutching his chest you felt yourself go lightheaded and fall into him, your eyes closed as Vincent held you.  

Gingerly opening your eyes you felt a hard body underneath you, the room was dimly lit by the lamp on the bedside table, and you noticed a glass of water was next to the lamp. A hand carded through your hair while the other ran a cool towel against your forehead, Vincent sat up slightly so he could meet your eyes when he noticed you had woken up.

Softly smiling you spoke “Di-Did I pass out?” Vincent just nodded slowly and signed ‘Do you feel ok?’ “yeah.. I think it was just an anxiety attack” Vincent kissed your head as you continued “...and I didn’t each much today” He frowned but nodded again, ‘Stay... I will grab you some food’    

LESTER SINCLAIR    

“Why the hell is Louisiana so damn hot?” you ask irritably uncomfortable in the truck as Lester came into the drivers side. This morning wasn’t exactly ideal and you got a terrible sleep, Lester tried to help but it just gave you anxiety. You hated these days when just out of nowhere you would feel anxious for simply no reason, but thankfully Lester never blamed you or made you feel bad.

“I know baby girl, it’s s’possed to be in the hundreds all week” He said turning the key making the old truck come to life. Groaning, you tried to roll down the window and it wouldn't budge just adding to the torture "oh man, I forgot to ask Bo to fix that, sorry cupcake" you glared at the name he gave while Lester just laughed rolling down his window.

This morning you decided to drive around with your boyfriend, cleaning up the roads of any roadkill. You had never done it with him before and honestly you kind of felt bad just sitting at home, not ever helping him.

Mindless chatter and laughter made the ride short and Lester tried to distract you from your own anxious mind. Pulling over it was not a pleasant scene, the poor thing was bent and broken with blood smeared all over the road. “oh my god Lester... poor little deer” you stood back allowing Lester to pull the deer over by the truck.

“Necks broke.. the thing didn’t suffer” Lester gave you a gentle smile and nodded trying to make light of his gory job. “Ready?” he asked as you helped lift the deer onto the flatbed of the truck.

Picking up one more deer carcass along the way, you were now headed to ‘the pit’. You had been there only once before, when you met Lester but he had never let you go back since. Even he didn’t stick around the dumping grounds often.

“If ya wanna stay in the truck it’s fine” Lester smiled. “No, no I’m ok” you insisted jumping out of the truck. The smell was unbearable, flies swarmed and the gore was horrifying, especially to an animal lover. Your heart started to race and you felt like throwing up, but you tried to push it away and continue to help Lester dragging the deer into the pit.

“Ya alright?” he asked looking at your frozen figure. There was a hand. A human hand sticking up from the middle of a deer carcass. You couldn’t hear Lester’s calls for you, your heart pounded too hard and your breath seemed to be stuck in your throat. Quickly Lester moved behind you trying to move you away from the scene but suddenly you went limp and passed out.

Coming to, you were laying in some grass, a nice shady spot away far away from the pit. Lester was running toward you with a water bottle from the truck and coming to sit next you, he propped you up on his knee handing you the bottle “Fuck ya scared me baby” the stroked your hair and held you tight. “Sorry Les” you whispered looking into his soft brown eyes. “Don’ be sorry.. I never should’a let ya join” Lester bent down to kiss your cheek and wipe some blood away “Can we just go home and shower?” you giggled.