#you are so incredibly strong and beautiful but your weaknesses were almost fatal

[ace-no-isha]

rewatching one piece Again and luffy told sanji “dying isn’t how you repay kindness!” it took so much for that to sink in for sanji. he tried dying for zeff at the battle with don krieg at the baratie. he’s struck down by enel. he tried to jump in front of zoro before kuma. he sold himself to big mom. he sees his life as so worthless for too long until luffy comes to save him. he’s one of the wings of the pirate king. he’s a beloved son to a fighting cook. he is worth so much and has a home in this world and it took his whole life to figure it out. it’s insane how much luffy can heal people’s deepest traumas with his love

[deathmetalunicorn1]

RoR x doma reader who has the same personality and blood demon art as doma from demon slayer. Like the reader is fighting for humanity because they claim that they were bored or something. How would the other fighters react to finding out that they can’t feel human emotions. Along with that hey can’t really eat normal foods after offering some to the reader.

-You were definitely an oddball in Valhalla, being a human turned demon, and ascended to Valhalla as a demon.

-Since you were free from your former master as well as the rules of hiding from the sun, you lived life to the fullest, enjoying yourself again, no longer desiring to rule over a cult.

-The only thing that remained the same was that you were unable to eat regular food, but you no longer became hungry, so you didn’t have to kill others… well, only if they deserved it, right?

-Many were intimidated by you, you were incredibly powerful, but your happy, flirty, and laid-back nature didn’t match, but anyone, especially fighters, could easily sense that you were dangerous, and you were not to be underestimated by any means.

-Unlike other demons you knew, you weren’t really blood thirsty, you just wanted to have fun and enjoy yourself, but if you were pushed to that point, there was no mercy.

-Brunnhilde was stunned when you approached her, wanting to fight after watching several interesting fights, as you were bored and wanted a chance to fight against someone strong, and the only way you could do that was to fight a god!

-The gods were stunned when you walked out, as many argued that you were a demon, and shouldn’t fight for humanity, but you just smiled, “I used to be a weak human until I was blessed with becoming a demon- I need to help those who are still weak and pathetic.”

-The humans weren’t all that happy, being insulted by you, as many were confused, you were willing to fight for humans, but you didn’t hesitate to insult them, seeing them as beneath you.

-Your combat skills were breathtaking, be able to endure what would have been fatal wounds, not even blinking an eye at them, easily regenerating, as well as being able to adapt to the attacks of your opponent, using your war fans to easily deflect his attacks.

-You quickly grew bored and sighed almost sadly before easily rushing forward and decapitating your opponent. You had been going easy on him, with the hopes that he would give you an actual challenge, but once you realized he was going all out, you quickly lost interest.

-Kojiro greeted you warmly, being friendly and invited you to join him for a meal and drinking, but he was stunned to learn that you were unable to eat normal food, since you were a demon. Jack soon joined and the three of you actually enjoyed yourself.

-Jack couldn’t help but notice that despite your bright, friendly smile, there were no true emotions behind them, “May I ask- can you feel emotions?”

-You just beamed over at him, looking excited, curious, “Ooh~ that’s right, you can see into the souls of others. I’ve never been able to, even when I was a human child!”

-Jack had a thoughtful look on his face, feeling something similar with you, which you were able to tell. You liked these two strange men, they were interesting to you, and it wasn’t often when a human, let alone two, caught your attention.

-It was the start of a beautiful, but odd, friendship.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Dark Side Of The Moon Ch. 1 - Dark! Loki x Reader

Chapter 1: Speak to Me/Breathe

Chapter Summary: The last thing you remember was being mortally wounded, now having woken up in a completely different reality. And you’d soon need to face the horrors of who would seek you out...

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Suicide Attempt, Graphic Descriptions of Death, Dark! Loki, Spoiler you kinda die but kinda don't

Words: approx. 3800

[Story Masterlist]

Masterlist to my other works right ->Here<-

Lyrics used from the Song: Kina ft. Snow - Get You The Moon

“Y/N, look out!”

The piercing sounds of gunfire nearby made your eardrums ring, yet Steve’s words got through to you nonetheless.

But you were determined to end this, here and now.

Tony was the first one at your side, catching you in his arms before you hit the floor. However, you could only do so much as whimper a silent apology to your friends, who now had to live with the consequences of your actions.

“Why did you do this?!” you heared Dr. Strange yell as he unsucessfully tried to close the deep cut in your gut. Too afraid of what you might see if you’d look at the wound, your glare was locked on the beautiful sky - yes, the sun was almost setting, and it was somehow calming to you that this would most likely the last thing you’d set eyes upon.

“There was no reason to be this reckless!” Steve followed close by, his scolding soon turning into desperate screams. “Fuck. FUCK!” If Captain America himself is cussing, then it’s as severe as you thought it to be.

Your wounds were lethal, that much was sure.

And of course they were right, as always: You didn’t need to play the martyr here, throwing yourself into danger to shield your comrades - well, you did anyway, and there was no going back now.

On the other hand, they were the ones taking a gravely depressed widow onto a dangerous mission. But you did not want your precious friends to blame themselves for that, for it was your own wish.

Dying in an honorable battle was what would send you to Valhalla, after all - where you could finally meet him again, hopefully.

The only one not having spoken a single word up until now was Thor, very well knowing what all this was about. It was no secret that you were sick and tired of how your life had turned out to be, ever since the Infinity War.

You felt empty. Incomplete. Desperate. Hallow.

The God of Thunder had turned his back to you, yet there was still agony radiating from that already broken man. Your almost-brother-in-law was the only one who could possibly understand your pain. Thor Odinson had lost everything: His homeland, most of his tribe, his family and best friend - and soon, you as well.

All this time, you wanted to be strong. For them, who had also lost so much!

But at some point things just got out of control.

“You can’t leave me alone, Lady Y/N! Not you too!” Thor finally whimpered as he fell onto his knees, softly squeezing your hand. “You’re the only thing I have left from him!

So this is what dying feels like.

The bloodloss caused your limps to go limp, and when the pain began to stop and got replaced by numbness, you knew it would soon be time. Your brain lost the remaining control over your body, and you found yourself encoated by pure nothingless.

Only able to listen by their screams, cries and kind words - at least you’d die surrounded by those marvellous people. It sure was a privilege knowing them.

You weren’t afraid - all in all, it had been a good life, after all. 

There were no regrets.

“Shh” you hushed them, using your last bit of strenght so your lips formed somewhat of a most broken smile, forming words between gurling on your own blood.

“It’s alright, I-” you cut yourself off, trying to scream as a last, torturing pain shot through your whole system. “I-I-I’ll-- meet him again...you know?”

“I’m no-not strong enough, please...” Thor cried out like you had never seen him before, feeling a tide of guilt wash over you. “Loki wouldn’t have wanted you to go like this! He told me to protect you, so you could lead a long and happy life!”

Without him? Impossible!

“You gave me a shoulder when I needed it

You showed me love when I wasn’t feeling it

You helped me fight when I was giving in

And you made me laugh when I was losing it”

Yes, indeed: You had been to selfish to keep on living just for the sake of your friends, burdening them with yet another loss.

“I-I don’t wanna go...this was a mistake, I- please...”

How badly did you want to soothe them right now, telling them that everything would be alright and you’d meet them again, eventually?

It was too late now.

Your body gave up earlier than your soul, which had endured and kept on all this time, even in it’s shattered state.

And when Tony’s palm gently closed your eyes, making it easier for you to embrace the cold darkness, the last thing you heared before your senses gave up were startling you enough to almost bring you back to life:

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

That voice was familiar, yet it didn’t belong to Loki. Dr. Strange, no- Stephen Strange, your friend and mentor of the mystic arts.

“I don’t have the heart to allow this to happen” he stated frantic, making you wonder if that was a dream of your hypoxic brain or if you were still able to hear them? People tend to say the sense of hearing dies last, after all. “She still has a pulse, even though weak. Hurry!”

Their voices were far in the back, words way too far out of your reach to understand. As if you were an outsider, only observing from a distance.

Your friends were fighting, or maybe discussing something. That much you could make up from their tone, but your mind was too exhausted to make sense of anything.

It felt as if you were already without a body, floating through the unknown like a feather in the wind - not knowing where fate would lead you to next.

Everything was numb - even your pain. It was soothing, somehow.

Because you had been a ghost way before, when you were alive even. An empty shell of a human, acting like they weren’t dead on the inside.

Coherent thoughts, memories, emotions...even the fractions of your own past you had both collected and surpressed. Right now, they were all restrained and pushed far in the back of your very core, where you were finally able to evaluate them without earthly bondings.

Was this heaven, hell - or maybe both or none or them?

____

"Be aware of the limits this tactic has. It’s a very drastic measurement that can most likely be used only once in your lifetime, and it is not guaranteed to work either.”

Stephen’s voice again. You recall that scene, it’s been long in the past...but why are you remembering it now?

Yes, this was familiar. All of you had been invited to the Sanctum Sanctorum, a fitting place to teach about this ancient knowledge.

You clearly remembered that Loki was absent in any of the Doctor’s lessons, feeling that a “puny human” was “unworthy” to teach him, and “it would be nothing new anyway, Y/N, I am a god and the way better wizard, I know it all already.”

What he was about to tell you back then was some kind of crazy emergency-plan: Dangerous, unpredictable and escpecially untested.

“I’ve only read about this tactic up until now” the mage pondered loudly as he picked at his goatee, earning some childish giggles by you and Tony. “So I cannot promise that it will function as planned. The Multiverse is dangerous and acts in unforseen ways.”

“Very reassuring” you had mocked at the time, not really biding the topic any importance or thought ever again.

But now...

The trick sounded way simpler than it actually was, being as complex as it is only natural for something like that, costing a huge prize at that:

Dr. Strange would send any of you who were on the brink of death through a portal, thus leading you into a random dimension of this endless Multiverse.

That dimension, in which your alternate self has most likely died, will gladly accept you as a “replacement”. Some kind of what Peter Parker called a “glitch” will occur, instantly healing all of your wounds - even fatal ones, so you could remain in the timeline that was missing you. 

Yet the consequences of this maneuvre would be unspeakable.

_____

“That bastard...” you gnarled internally, finally realizing why you would remember this of all things after apparently having just taken your dying breath. “He didn’t just-”

Eventually, you realized having escaped death’s grip, slowly beginning to regain your senses - yet still refusing to open your eyes.

“I don’t want to leave this place. My friends -- will I never see them again? No. NO! Life is meaningless. Just let me be with him. Please! Loki...”

“’Cause you are, you are

The reason why I’m still hanging on

‘Cause you are, you are

The reason why my head is still above water

And if I could I’d get you the moon

And give it to you

And if death was coming for you

I’d give my life for you”

Another part of Strange’s lesson echoed in your head, revealing that you were now in fact up on your own.

“Not even I can tell just how much this timeline will differ from what you know. Of course I will search for you right away, but considering the countless possibilities, it might very well be that we’ll never meet again. But you’re alive, and hopefully safe. That’s all that counts.”

Grass tickled your palm as you twitched your fingers, testing the limits of your body, which had literally just tricked death. Suddenly, you felt a stinging pain, almost like lightning boring into your temportal. The origin of this pain remained unknown.

When you finally found the courage to sit up, your flesh still feeling as heavy as lead, you realized that Stephen was most likely wrong: He assumed that you’d find yourself in a place you had a deep connection with, yet that place was unrecognizable to you.

Then why were you here of all places?

Actually, this location was incredibly beautiful, managing to stop the aching in your heart, if only for the fraction of a second.

Your former lover would’ve loved this place.

“'Cause you are, you are

The reason why I’m still hanging on

'Cause you are, you are

The reason why my head is still above water

And if I could I’d get you the moon

And give it to you

And if death was coming for you

I’d give my life for you”

Even though not all of Dr. Strange’s speculations were correct, you decided to stick to his emergency plan: Find as much information about this “new” earth as possible, point out the differences to your initial one, and then contact the Dr. Strange of this dimension.

Two mages working on crossing each other’s path would at least higher the stakes to find your original timeline.

Well, no one could guarantee you that the Avenger’s existed on this timeline, and they could as well be evil in this one...what a weird and horrifying imagination.

Knowledge really was power - that was another thing Loki had taught you a long time ago, and it would prove valuable, especially in this situation.

As you wandered this surprisingly extensive garden and getting lost in admiring the beauty of it’s nature, you found yourself devoid of any weapons. That fact made you slightly uncomfortable, even though your current location seemed absent of any ememies, making a peaceful impression. 

Seemingly there weren’t any evil schemes going on in this dimension.

It basically were only minor differences, at least that was your first impression. At least there were no changes in natural laws or something as big.

“I miss the days where magic and science didn’t mix up like this” you whispered, mainly to yourself as you examined the new, large scar on your abdomen - the only memory left of your “almost-suicide-mission”.

To be more precize: The only thing left from your former life, now leaving you able to start completely anew, wether you wanted it or not.

Sun had almost drowned behind the horizon, diving the sky in a deep orange. Your eyes were still adjusting, yet you could’ve sworn to see the silhouette of a person. It was far away, at the entrance on what appeared to be a palace belonging to this garden.

Apparently, you had invaded someone’s propery, and you could only pray that it was noone important - or worse, a owner who would defend their ground with violence.

You don’t think your earth had a place this...flashy. The castle was way bigger than any you knew on the other timeline. The first difference you had figured out, yet it was only a minor one.

Maybe the headache you were experiencing was from someone making you  out as an intruder?

One thing was sure: You had been noticed, and you immediately were on high alert.

Where to run to or at least hide?

There was a maze made out of bushed parting you and the palace, and since there was no better option, you’d enter it. Talking to that person and convincing them of your goodwill would make it way easier to gain information.

“You may come out” you declared as you made your way, unable to evaluate the situation properly. “I mean no harm. I’m just lost.”

Was it dangerous to be here? Obviously, you were not allowed to be here anyway.

However, when you had finally found the escape to that maze, only several hundret meters away from the building, the person was already gone.

Had your mind just played a dirty trick on you again? Wouldn’t be the firt time it’d betray you like this...

No. You clearly felt someone watching you.

And as soon as your senses had sharpened to your usual self again, you instantly jumped back, gaining some distance to the Citauri that had just appeared behing you.

Shit! You weren’t ready to fight again just yet. Not like this.

And where one of those vile beasts were, many others would appear. You knew that much.

Had Thanos invaded this earth? Oh god, not again...not him. You were so damn tired of those fights, escapes and especially the pain that always inevitable followed after.

Just when it was about to swing it’s weapon at your head, you felt dizziness crawl up your nerves, making you collapse on the floor. Lucky for you, because only like that, the stike didn’t hit you.

Even though having been taught basic magic skills, that certain kind of spell you were unable to fight against - only true masters of the art were able to perform a sorcery that well.

The Chitauri had left your line of sight, yet the other figure from before reappeared in a pace so fast that your eyes couldn’t follow. They sweeped you off the floor just before your head would meet the hard pavement.

“And now you will answer to me, shapeshifter.”

Once again someone robbed you of the control of your life and body, leaving you without a free will.

How long had you been passed out now? You didn’t know and honestly didn’t care either - since you had nothing to lose anymore.

In the meantime, the owner of those lands had dismissed his guards, not wanting to be disturbed as he was left alone with you in the giant throne room.

The apparent ruler of that unclassified location was sitting on his throne, warily observing you from above. You were lying to his feet at the bare floor, every piece of clothing robbed from you and restrained by a pile of chains. He watched every twitch, all breaths you’d take or groans escaping your mouth until you would finally awake.

Oh, how you really were just like he remembered you, with every little detail he had adored.

At long last, you would finally open your lids again, blinking heavily as you took in your surroundings - but when your eyes met certain emerald ones, they immediately sprung wide open, the emptiness in your heart being filled with all kinds of emotions once again.

The man - it was him!

“'Cause you are, you are

Oh, you are

Oh, you are

You are'Cause you are, you are

The reason why I’m still hanging on

'Cause you are, you are

The reason why my head is still above water

And if I could I’d get you the moon

And give it to you”

“Loki!” you screamed from the bottom of your heart. Without a single coherent thought, your legs would carry on their own as your weakened body stumbled in their attempt to climb those stairs.

For both of you, that momend of reuinion had waited far too long.

The god was temptated to approach you, his trembling hands already reaching out to catch your fragile body should you fall - but suddenly, you felt his knuckles digging into your cheekbone.

“Stay away from me, you fake!” Loki yelled furiously as you hit the ground, rubbing your cheek as you tried to understand what just happened.

Yeah, that sure brought you back to reality again, after such a short high.

Right.

That isn’t your Earth - and not your Loki either.

You couldn’t even be sure this world’s Y/N and Loki had the same kind of relationship the two of you had back in your timeline! The only thing you knew was that he knew you from his past, but as it seemed not pleasantly.

Now that you looked closely, he even had less scars, almost looking untouched and pure - like a true, invincible god. Maybe life here had treat him well, unlike his counterpart from your timeline.

He was still wearing that excessive outfit with the golden horns, and much to both your amazement and fear, it seemed that he still possessed theTesseract.

Could it be...

Before you could connect the dots, the king would soon interrupt your string of thoughts. “Drop that disguise, scum!”

Loki kept on degrading you as he paced in front of his throne, brow sinking deeper and deeper. “Don’t think you can somehow appeal to those pathetic sentiments” he explained, “I’ve freed myself from them long ago. Just stop making a fool out of yourself, and maybe I’ll reward it with a quicker death.”

Yet when he saw your most innocent smile, even this Loki would stand frozen in place, deeply in shock.

How he yearned to see it, all those years - to tell you just how sorry he was for everthing he’s done.

No.

He had left all of this behind - to claim his birthright and rule.

“I-I’m deeply so-sorry...that is a mistake” you whimmered with a broken voice, wiping a tear of joy out of your face. “My feelings overwhelmed me, I guess. I’ve never thought to see you again, even if you’re not the same Loki I know.”

Still cowering on the floor, you looked up to him with compassionate eyes, as if he had not just beat you before. You did not dare to make any more, wanting for Loki to try and understand himself.

“A variant?” he gnarled, just like you did when he realized.

No force in the world had allowed him to access other parts of the Multiverse, no matter how desperately he tried - and now fate had literally dropped you in front of his door.

Loki balled his fists in anger, making you flinch as you anticipated yet another blow.

“Dear, I-”

“Shut up!” the God of Mischief shoutet, causing his magic to break free. The walls of the palace were shaking, most windows and furniture having been destroyed. “It’s no use, woman!”

That man was way more powerful than the “puny god” people called names back on Asgard - and his sheer might made you quiver.

Just what kind of monster had he become, and why?

“L-Loki, please...” you tried to appeal to the last bit of humanity  he might possess, and your begging made his guts twist in agony. “You’re scaring me.”

“You better be scared!” he exclaimed, grabbing you by the chin and forcing you to look at him. “No matter what disgracefully weak “alter ego” of me you knew, I am built different. Stronger. Better. Everyone in the Nine Realms fears me, and I desire nothing else! Everything distracting me from fulfilling my destiny and reign over you dull creatures I got rid of. You’re nothing more than an insect I might as well crush right here and now!”

Choking on a sob, he tried to relish that last chance he got to admire you, smell you, touch what he cannot possess...no matter how many universes there may be.

A flood of tears cracked down your face at his words, yet you couldn’t be helped.

No matter what he would say - he looked just like him.

And that was enough for you to feel alive after such a long time of being a walking dead. There had to be a reason you landed right at his home, of all places in this universe. You had a connection, both of you felt it ever since you had been transported here.

"May I ask-” you disrupted yourself, awaiting some reaction. But the conqueror had seemed to have spoken what he thought important to say, not declining your question at all.

Whenever he seemed fit, he could disintegrate you - yet right now, this situation was way too intriguing.

“What happened to myself in this reality?”

Loki swallowed harshly, letting go off of you as he threw you down the stairs. He wouldn’t even bide you one look as he tried to surpress the turmoil of emotion still running through his veins, desperately keeping it from breaking free.

The outcome would always be the same: Suffering, for both of you.

“And if death was coming for you

I’d give my life for you.”

He only ever wanted it to stop hurting. To become unfeeling, since love had always been poisoning his mind, sometimes being gifted with it even though he knew he would never be worthy of anything else than disgust and hate.

And that contradiction caused him to throw away anything good that happened to him, through you. Let it be taken away from him just shortly after finally learning to remotely enjoy.

You deserved the truth, a reason to hate him even more than you probably already did.

Had you only come to his salvation earlier, then he might have been helped - yet now, he was beyond redemption. Broken. Sick. Dangerous.

And when the Chitauri dragged you away, his last words let your blood run cold:

“She died through my hands.”

_____

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[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH133

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 133: The Dream of the Holy Nun (XXIII)

Use Countercurrent Sand to reset the cooldown of the S/L Data skill card.

Save and drink the Devil’s blood.

Detonate all miniature bombs.

There was a loud roar as a violent explosion blew the tower deep in the church into ruins.

At the moment the file was loaded, the demon "Depravity" vanished and the resurrected Qi Leren returned to the state of when he had archived. Now he had no longer drunk the blood of the Devil and was still a human being!

His fragile human body appeared in the center of the explosion and was immediately thrown out by the billow of air, fell heavily on the ground, and even rolled several times before stopping.

There were some surface burns, multiple fractures, and countless bruises and contusions, but these injuries couldn't be judged as fatal injuries. There was no second reading of S/L skill and there is still dust and smoke in front of him. Qi Leren coughed in a heartbreaking way, and the blood accumulated in his chest gushed out from his mouth, filling his mouth with the taste of iron.

It hurt so much, it hurt so much, even breathing had become a kind of torture, he felt truly terrible.

At present, his vision was blurred red with hot blood. Qi Lereen used his single intact right hand to hold the dagger, bringing it toward his chest.

This body had lost its combat effectiveness, so he had to load again.

Before the knife's tip could touch his chest it was stopped by an incredible force, and Qi Leren suddenly shivered and looked into the smoking chaos in disbelief.

In the smoke after the explosion, a figure was coming down from the ruined throne.

The dust and smoke gradually dispersed, and the safe and sound devil came to him with elegant steps. He said approvingly: "Perfect acting skills, precise psychological grasp, unexpected attacks, in order to have me lower my guard you even drank the cup of blood... The only regret is that everything you carefully prepared still can't smooth out the distance in strength."

Su He stopped in front of Qi Leren and looked down at him gently and pityingly.

As time went by, Qi Leren’s hand holding the dagger could not move, and the S/L skill’s countdown was running out.

Qi Leren stared at him, but his trembling hand was too late to send the dagger into his heart. The Devil King looked at him with a smile and watched him step into the abyss of despair.

Five seconds, four seconds, three seconds, two seconds, one second... The countdown for the skill’s cooling was 0:59:59

"It seems that time’s up." Seeing the light of hope in Qi Leren's eyes dim, Su He leaned down and gently took the dagger from his hand.

Qi Leren looked at him coldly and he realized that he was about to die. Although Su He's expression was still gentle, his repeated attempts to thwart him had angered him, and the Devil of Fraud refused to accept the worm’s deception.

"Since the save hasn't been loaded it means that your current injuries aren’t fatal, but if just little more is done, you will bid farewell to this world, Leren." Su He played with Qi Leren's dagger and looked at him with a cold smile. "I’m very curious. When you really face the test of death, what will your choice be?"

The sharp point cut his throat and the blood flowed out. This degree of pain was not worth mentioning compared with the current pain all over his body, but Qi Leren knew that this injury would be fatal. 

Foaming blood would quickly block the respiratory tract, and it would become more and more difficult for him to breathe. If he was not treated, he would die of suffocation or excessive blood loss in a few minutes.

Su He stood up and put another goblet full of blood a few meters away: "Now, you can choose."

Breathing was difficult. No matter how hard he tried to inhale, it was more and more difficult to get enough oxygen into the trachea blocked by blood foam. Blood was constantly lost, oxygen was constantly decreasing, and his consciousness was becoming blurred.

Death was coming, and Qi Leren almost saw the grim reaper hovering over his head. It held the scythe and raised it high…

He didn't want to die, he didn't want to…

No, he wouldn't die. He had the Easter Egg!

But if he easily gave up struggling and accepted death, would Su He believe it? What would he do if he saw through his fear?

Must... Do it again... Again…

The desire for survival once again surfaced in Qi Leren’s eyes and his vision blurred. He tilted his head and looked at the cup of bright red blood a few meters away. His bloody lips moved slightly, longing…

The Devil King watched with great interest as the dying man ignited the last strength with his will. He rolled over and dragged his body forward with his single intact right hand. He lost more blood. His cut throat and injuries dragged out a shocking trail of blood on the ground, which showed how strong his will to survive was at the moment.

It was only a few meters away, but he’d exhausted all his strength.

By the time he reached his destination, the weak human was already dying. He used the last of his strength to hold the goblet, but his trembling hand kept shaking the scarlet blood in the cup…

He cried, and his broken trachea made his cry like a nightingale's whine, so despairing and pitiful.

The Devil liked this sound, watching a strong soul lose its bottom line and become corrupted and dirty. He was struggling to resist, yet he still succumbed to his own desires.

It really was amusing.

With a clear and crisp sound, the goblet fell heavily at the feet of the Devil King, spilling blood all over the floor.

The Devil King accidentally looked at the dying human being and saw his unyielding eyes. He was speechless as blood seeped out along his throat. He tried to pull up the corners of his mouth, showing him a mocking smile.

-Go away.

He growled silently.

In the blood on the ground, the handsome Devil smiled. "I didn't expect you to really do this for him. Humans are obviously so weak, but they’re always unexpected. This is probably what makes them so interesting."

Qi Leren struggled to roll over and lie on his back on the ruined floor.

His cut trachea was bleeding continuously, and the dying Qi Leren looked at Su He in the distance as Su He looked at him in return. After a moment, he came towards him but stopped in the middle.

"What is it?" Su He said, turning his head.

Within the shadow in the corner, a vague unfamiliar figure appeared and bowed slightly to Su He: "I’ve come to convey my King's instructions, the 'goldfish bowl' has raised an alarm. It’s very likely that it will escape again. Please go back and preside over the overall situation."

"It seems that my holiday is coming to an end." Su He said faintly, "Tell Power for me, I will force myself to leave this task and go back now. By the way, I’m bringing a big gift to her."

The shadow bowed again. The special connection between Devil King and Devil King could not last long in the Holy Nun’s field, and it quickly disappeared silently back into the shadows.

In the cold air, Su He’s deep voice came, mixed with mocking emotion: "...That woman."

Qi Leren could hardly see anything. The cloak of death had covered his eyes, the air was growing colder and colder, the chill slowly rose from the ground, and he was dying.

He heard Su He’s footsteps stop beside him, and then the rustle of fabric. He seemed to squat down and gently parted the hair on his forehead.

"I originally wanted to play with you for a while longer, but unfortunately the game has ended early. Your best friend beat Isabel and is on his way, but calculating the time, he probably won't see you one last time. It’s a pity that I can't see his expression when he gets here," Su He’s gentle voice rang in Qi Leren’s ears as he lay dying.

"For your courage and perseverance, I’ll allow you to rest here." A kiss as light as nothing fell on Qi Leren’s forehead. A farewell kiss.

"Depravity’s appearance was beautiful, but unfortunately, you did not become it after all."

The footsteps of Su He's leisurely departure were getting farther and farther away, disappearing from Qi Leren’s ears.

Qi Leren was dying.

Glad and anxious.

Although his brain had almost stopped running, he still understood the dialogue between Su He and the unknown person. He would hurry to leave here immediately, which meant Ning Zhou was safe.

Great... Great... Really, great.

He could be resurrected in seven days, as long as the news was conveyed to Ning Zhou…

Qi Leren, who had difficulty moving a finger, squeezed out the last strength from his body and wrote a 7 with his bloody finger trembling. He also wanted to write another word, "days", but for all his effort he couldn't make his finger move again.

Qi Le people closed his eyes in exhaustion, his breathing halted, and his consciousness sank into chaos because of lack of oxygen. Even the pain became slow and psychedelic, as if his soul had begun to gradually break away from this scarred body.

He absently thought, there was only the one number, could Ning Zhou understand what he meant?

After 7 days, he could be resurrected in 7 days, just wait for 7 days…

Memories began to flash in his mind like fragments, like film pulled out from a camera, and then suddenly it fixed on a certain one. At that time, he was absent-minded because he was thinking about the task clues, and Su He was explaining the meaning of numbers to Dr. Lu: "Numbers are very interesting in the Nightmare World. Many numbers have special meanings. For example, 4 stands for luck and 7 stands for..."

"I love you."

He’d made an unforgivable mistake.

Qi Leren desperately struggled to keep breathing, but the blood foam stuck in his throat prevented him from inhaling air. He opened his eyes wide and tried to erase the numbers written in blood.

He tried his best to squeeze out the last bit of strength from his nerves, bone marrow, and every organ that was about to stop working, to erase this number, but there was nothing he could do.

He couldn't move, he couldn't move at all.

Tears of remorse flowed out of the corner of his eye and he cried. He hadn’t in the face of the Devil's performance, nor in the face of fear of dying, but now it was really out of control.

This desperate fear even exceeded his fear of death itself and his consciousness that is about to dissipate was shouting, struggling, and repenting. He couldn't imagine, couldn’t bear to think of Ning Zhou seeing this message - this simple number. It could be the last straw to destroy Ning Zhou.

The world slowly sank into the dark abyss of death.

He remembered the difference from a few hours ago. At that time, it was so dark that he had only dared to ask Ning Zhou if he wanted to go with him. His timid heart made him even afraid to wait for Ning Zhou's answer and he’d said goodbye in a hurry. He’d always thought they would meet again, so he said: I'll be back soon, you have to wait for me! You must wait for me!

How naive and how stupidly self-confident in front of reality, fragile and ridiculous, vulnerable.

At the last moment before the collapse of his consciousness, Qi Leren saw the Garden of the Holy Tomb.

At that time, he’d woken up from the stump covered with fallen flowers and followed Dr. Lu to the place where Su He was. As he walked, he’d turned his head and saw Ning Zhou.

He’d stood by the broken tree and looked at him from a distance.

So restrained, so distant, but so gentle, there were too many emotions floating in his blue eyes, just like the sky and the sea that contained everything.

He’d suddenly wanted to ask Ning Zhou, how many times had he looked at him like this? And how many times had he missed returning it?

Ning Zhou was always so lonely and silent. All his pains were buried deep in his own heart, without words.

If he hadn't looked back, he would have never seen such tenderness.

He would never have known how deep this repressed love was.

Just a little bit like infinity.

　　&&&

Through the broken stone columns and countless broken statues, Ning Zhou walked forward without looking away and finally came to the front of the cathedral.

The first half of the church had been seriously damaged, with solemn and historical writing under the starry sky.

Ning Zhou briskly walked to the depths of the hall, looking at the two huge stone doors.

The earth was still shaking and destruction had played the final movement.

Ning Zhou took a deep breath, and his abdominal wound was burning and generally painful. He drew a cross on his chest and then pushed back the stone door.

The huge Maria and the stabbed dragon would have occupied most people's field of vision, but Ning Zhou's line of sight chased the familiar figure lying on the ground amidst a shocking pool of blood.

His heartbeat stops at this moment, and whether heaven or hell, it didn’t exist at this moment.

He didn't know how he came up to him and knelt down there.

Open brown eyes looked ahead emptily, and there were wet tears in the corner of his eyes. His blood-stained fingers were stopped on a reddish-brown number.

At the moment before he died, he was saying—

I love you.

Deep in the dark hall, there came the cry of desperation and collapse. Witnessed by the remains of Holy Nun and the Devil, a devout believer finally admitted his love that was not allowed by his God.

But it was too late. At the moment when he’d received his love, he’d lost him forever.

-----

The author has something to say:

PS: So, there is no love that can't be achieved through a grand death. If there is, then die again.

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

[wntrsnat]

࿐Another Autumn Night

✧ Pairing: BuckyNat/Winterwidow

✧ Warnings: Depressive thoughts, low self-esteem and lots of self-blame, basically Spoiler-free.

✧ Word count: 1.5k words

✧ A/n: following one-shot takes place somewhere around Ed Brubaker’s Captain America comics, where Bucky took the that mantle. It was originally published a few months ago by me on Marvel Amino, so this is basically a late repost!

The night sky was full of stars but no moon. Skyscrapers shone bright, spilling the color upon dark night. The city came alive when noises had filled the streets. The lights and sounds of the big city have always delighted Bucky. Although the lifetime passed since his youth, he still heard the gunshots; bombs dropping everywhere; the desperate, angry screams; the lifeless bodies falling down, staining the earth with the blood – sounds of the war. The lively, loud streets reminded him that people were living their normal life without the war, without deaths and tortures.

Well, at least most of them lived it that way, normal way. For others, the war had never stopped. Instead, it mutated. There was no black and white anymore. The spectrum was all grey. And people? People just played along with it all. They were puppets who’s master always changed. Bucky knew it better than anyone.

It felt like he had been a puppet his whole life. Yet, he still blamed himself for everything. After all, blood was on his hands. He was the one victims remembered and hated. He destroyed their lives. They were deep down in the ground, dead. Their families grieved and cried, burying the dreams of happy life while he stood here as national hero, symbol of the country. He didn’t deserve to be here, walking down the street with his girlfriend, cherished by people.

“You need to stop thinking so much” Natasha remarked, wrapping her slender fingers around his waist. She hated when James brooded over his thoughts. It was easy to guess what they were. It felt like it was only thing on his mind ever since he took up the mantle of Captain America.

She was concerned about him. She couldn’t recall last time James properly slept. She always found him awake in the middle of the night, absent from their bed. Winter Soldier, murders, survival and Captain America- They always had same conversation each night. Tonight was no different. Except that Natalia convinced him to go for the walk. New York was quite a sight at night, especially during autumn. She hoped that it’d help him to get out of his head for a while.

Bucky sighed out, turning his head to her. He said nothing. Instead, his gaze lingered on Natalia, noticing the worry in her emerald eyes. At moments like this, he couldn’t help but wonder what did he do be loved by a woman like her. He had her right next to himself, walking down a park painted with orange, red and yellow leaves. Her fiery red hair sprawled on her shoulders, cold breeze brushed past her brown coat as street’s warm lights fell on her face, cooling down her dark red lipstick – she matched the autumn, looking better than mother nature herself. And Bucky, a complete idiot, phased out in his thoughts instead of enjoying their moment.

He didn’t deserve her either but here she was, unconditionally loving him. He didn’t understand what she saw in him. Natalia deserved the best and he certainly wasn’t it. Nevertheless, he was grateful for her. She made it all little easier for him. She was the reason James lived and fought. If not her, he would have put bullet through his brain to quiet the ghosts.

“It’s just” Bucky mumbled under his breath. He moved away his gaze, unable to look into her eyes. He didn’t want her to be worried about him. Natalia already had enough on her plate, he didn’t want to add on. Still, he knew that it was impossible to avoid “There’s too much rattling around in my head, lately” he said and rubbed nape of his neck.

“I know” Natasha faintly nodded, pressing her lips together. She knew it wasn’t just lately. At one point or another, there was always rattling around in his head. She could relate to that feeling. She wouldn’t even be worried if it wasn’t James who would beat up himself for his past, put himself in danger and damage his health all because he thought he deserved it. “That’s why you should stop thinking, милый мой (my dear)” she said, referring to what she had told him earlier.

“Well, you do have a point there” Bucky quietly commented. He for sure couldn’t say she was wrong; thinking so much, in such state of the mind, wouldn’t bring any good to him. Yet, how could any of his thoughts do him good. They just kept dragging him back to old, torn pages which he couldn’t fix. Bucky’s eyes moved back to Natalia, trying to hold on the moment. He caught himself almost zoning back out. Stop thinking, stop thinking – he told himself, breathing in cold air.

“Don’t I always?” She said with a small smile. She saw how James looked at her; she knew that he tried hard for her. She knew he tried hard to put away all negativity when he was with her. But that’s not what she wanted. She wanted him to try hard for himself. She wanted him to ignore negative thoughts for *himself*.

“Hmm… do you?” James hummed out, a faint chuckle left his lips. God, he loved that smile of hers – confident and self-assured in the best way possible. There was nothing arrogant about it, about her. Natalia knew herself, her skills and abilities; he adored it about her. He thought that it was what made her as strong as she was. That was quite important trait for agent or assassin; Exaggerating or underestimating your competence could lead to fatal outcome. And that is not what anyone wanted “you *can’t* be always right” He jokingly said, truth present in his words.

“I have never said I am always right” Natasha defended herself, throwing hands in the air as the sign of innocence. Indeed, no one could always be right, even Captain America himself. No matter who you were, you’d anyway manage to make a mistake “I meant that I always have a *point*. There’s big difference” she said and raised eyebrows, giving him a small look. More than often there was a bit of truth in everything; more or less, at least. Even villains themselves had some truth in their motivation, but it still didn’t make them right. That was difference between being right and having a point; you had truth in your words yet you were wrong in many ways as well.

“What’s the difference exactly?” Bucky asked and got closer. His flesh arm had been wrapped around Natalia. He hid the other one in the pocket of his jacket; the streets were filled with lights; he didn’t want metal to reflect them. It would cause unnecessary attention. Tonight, all he wanted was to relax with his girlfriend. Everything was rather beautiful and he didn’t want to miss out on that anymore. He didn’t know if it was only him or the autumn really did make everything so mesmerizing; except for Natalia, she always looked stunning.

Autumn reminded him of her in the way. It was odd enough to compare season and person but they really did match quite well. He thought they had similar temperament; one minute it could have been like this – calm and soothing, just a faint, cold breeze brushing past them and another minute, you could find yourself in home-wrecking storm or incredible rainfall; you never knew what you’d wake up to. You only knew one thing for sure, no matter what it’d be, it would still be amazing.

“I mean I can explain it on lots examples” Natasha exclaimed and got on her tip toes. She let silence fall between them as she thought what to say. She had lots of examples on her mind, for instance his thoughts: James thought it was his fault that people died – it was impossible to deny that there was bit of truth in that, he had a *point* but at the same time, he was very wrong. Or second example of this phenomenon was Tony Stark, the man was walking definition of ‘having a point’ himself. “But I’m too tired for that” She whispered against his lips, softly locking them together. Natasha decided to stay quiet. She didn’t want to remind him about either of those things. She didn’t want him to start thinking about it all and again lose himself in the thoughts. She’d rather appear defeated in James’ eyes than make him upset him.

“I bet you are” he ironically replied right before they kissed. A flush crept up his face, cheeks redder than leaves that hung on the trees. Bucky had been with lots of girls but none of them were quite like Natalia. She was only one who he could open up to. She was only one who would understand. There was something about her that touch his soul, his humanity. Neither of them made him feel the way she did.

They stood like this for quite a time, kissing under the weak, lamp lights - the only thing that lit up an empty park, showing them path to unknown. It felt like time had stopped around them. Nothing seemed to matter anymore; not even his worries, the cold breeze or the beautiful surroundings that autumn itself had painted. He didn’t deserve this happiness, not after everything he had done but damn, he was thankful to have her with him.

[tothemeadow]

You're awesome :3 keep up the lovely creations :D !! Errr soo I have been having this really angst and sad scenario where senjuro is a demona slayer and he accompanies kyoujuro to the train mission... and he dies instead XD protecting him and all *hides face* I just thought of giving you this idea, and you're free to decline... heh as if I need more sadness now XD

First of all, thank you so much! Second of all, I made myself fucking cry while writing this.

warnings: ANGST, death, mentions of blood

words: 2,700

The sound of shrieking fills the air.

He doesn’t know where it’s coming from. All he can see are giant flames, brilliant hues of orange and red reaching up towards the star-spangled sky. Its crackling is almost deafening to his ears; Senjuro presses his palms against his ears, trying to block out the sound. After the night he’s had so far, he wants nothing more to do with fire and trains.

To his side, he can barely make out Kyojuro’s words to Tanjiro. The boy made it out alive, thank the gods. He and that funny pig-headed guy successfully took down Lower Rank One, thus saving the day. In all honesty, Senjuro only wants to lie down and clock out. The passengers are safe. The demon is dead. Everyone can go home now.

A gentle tug at his haori grabs his attention. Dropping his hands, Senjuro looks down at his elder brother’s smiling face. Although he’s positively beaming, he looks incredibly tired. Senjuro can’t blame him; this night has been trying on everybody.

“Are you alright?” Kyojuro asks him.

Senjuro wants to tell him yes, he’s fine, but he can’t really bring himself to do so. He’s still relatively new at this whole “demon slayer” thing, and a battle this huge has sucked all energy out of him. “I’m not sure,” Senjuro says truthfully.

Kyojuro merely nods his head. “You’re not injured?”

At that, Senjuro shakes his head. If anything, he managed to get away with a couple bruises and scratches. He’s nowhere near Tanjiro’s fragile state. His eyes shift to the other, and he swallows hard. The front of Tanjiro’s uniform is drenched with blood, but it seems to be slowing. His breathing is steady, just like how Kyojuro’s is.

“I’m glad to know you’re safe,” Kyojuro tells him.

Senjuro joins him at his side, dropping down to his knees. The two brothers promptly give each other a hug; Senjuro begins to laugh in relief, his entire body shaking from the adrenaline leaking through his pores. Even Tanjiro flashes him a smile. He looks incredibly pained as he does, but Senjuro appreciates the notion nonetheless.

“Can we go home now?” Senjuro asks Kyojuro. With a laugh, Kyojuro ruffles the messy strands of Senjuro’s hair.

“Yeah,” Kyojuro says, his eyes turning soft. “We can.”

Things should have ended there. Everyone would’ve been safe, happy, alive. But, as fate likes to have it, it wasn’t.

A short distance away from where the three sit, something crashes into the surface, kicking up dust. The cloud dissipates into the night sky, revealing a tattooed demon. Senjuro’s throat goes dry. It happens all too fast – the demon, coming after Tanjiro and attempting to smash his skull in; Kyojuro, sweeping his blade in a graceful arc and successfully slicing the demon’s arm in half.

Normally, Senjuro would be in awe of his brother’s incredible reflexes, but this man – this demon… Fear clutches onto Senjuro, squeezes the breath from his lungs. He grabs the hilt of his blade and draws himself to a stand. So, the fight isn’t over after all.

“Nice blade,” the demon says, nodding his head towards Kyojuro.

Kyojuro ignores the so-called compliment. “To target a wounded person… I cannot understand why.”

Rolling his shoulders, the demon cocks his head. “These two would only get between us. They’re in the way.”

At the comment, Senjuro’s blood runs cold. So, the demon’s here for Kyojuro. He doesn’t necessarily know why, but he has the inkling it has to do with Kyojuro’s status as a Pillar.

Kyojuro scoffs. “Do we have something to talk about? It’s only our first time meeting, but I already hate you.”

The demon smirks. “Really? Well, I hate weak humans, too. It’s disgusting to see them roam about in this world.”

“Then our moral values differ greatly,” Kyojuro responds, not missing a beat. His voice is dangerously level; Senjuro’s not sure he’s ever heard his brother speak in such a way before.

“I see.” The demon snaps his tongue, almost as if he’s lost in thought.  “Then I have a proposal for you: why don’t you become a demon?”

Senjuro’s eyes immediately fly to Kyojuro. What kind of question is that? Oh, gods, please don’t let him even think about it.

Still, Kyojuro’s voice still holds that cool, devoid tone. Wherever this conversation is heading, it’s not going to end pretty. “Not a chance.”

The demon presses on. “You’re a Pillar, right? I can tell by your strength. You’re battle spirit… It’s impressive. You’re get close to supreme territory, you know that?”

He should move, dammit. He should get Tanjiro out of here. He should swing his blade at the demon’s neck. But why – why isn’t Senjuro doing anything? His legs won’t move. He’s shaking so bad, so furiously, yet the others are deadly calm.

“I am the Flame Pillar, Rengoku Kyojuro,” Kyojuro says simply. He should be proud of wearing the title, just like how Senjuro is proud of him.

“Akaza,” the demon introduces himself. “Kyojuro, I’m going to tell you why you can’t cross into supreme territory; you’re a human. You’ll grow old, you’ll die. It’s that simple. But, if you become a demon… You can live for hundreds of years, become stronger.”

Senjuro does not like where this Akaza guy is getting at. If he thinks he can persuade Kyojuro this easily, and for something like becoming a demon, he’s got another thing coming. He notices Tanjiro stirring around on the ground, seemingly trying to get up. No, don’t do it, Senjuro thinks. He can’t stand the thought of Tanjiro putting himself in danger again.

“You’re wrong,” Kyojuro pipes up. “Growing old and dying…  That’s the fleeting beauty of being a human being. Because they can grow old. They can die. They’re astounding, lovable, and precious. Strength isn’t a word they use about the body. These boys here, they aren’t weak. Don’t you dare insult them.

“And I’ll say it again: you and I have different morals. No matter how hard life gets, how hard I fight to survive, I will never become a demon.”

“Aniki,” Senjuro murmurs. Hot tears prick his eyes, threaten to roll down his cheeks. Kyojuro is such a wonderful person. It’s no wonder Senjuro looks up to him. To be like his older brother, so kind and passionate about the simplest things, it’s incredible. Senjuro wants nothing more in life. As long as Kyojuro continues to smile at him, to guide him along his life’s path, he is at peace with his life.

Akaza releases a sigh, disappointed with Kyojuro’s decision. “I see.” Senjuro’s heart thumps as Akaza abruptly takes on an offensive stance. “If you won’t become a demon, then I’ll kill you!”

This can’t be happening.

A sob rips itself from Senjuro’s throat as the two spring into action. All he can do is stand dumbly to the side, blade quivering in his unsteady hands. The two move too fast for his eyes to follow; swirls of color and dust fill his vision, leave his mind reeling. Where’s Kyojuro? Where’s Akaza?

Fire floods Kyojuro’s body, his full strength coming to light. Despite his fearful crying, Senjuro’s in awe of his brother’s wondrous abilities. To be strong, to be on fire, to be so damned amazing – this is the way of the Fire Pillar. The name has been carried by the Rengoku clan for generations, and Kyojuro is doing a superb job of upholding it.

The shouting filling Senjuro’s ears is undecipherable. He knows Akaza’s yelling, going on about how Kyojuro should just give up and give in to becoming a demon. But Kyojuro wouldn’t do that. No, not with the life he’s living now. Being alive is a gift in itself. It’s beautiful and fleeting, just like he said.

Again, Tanjiro struggles to move. Like Senjuro, he wants to get up and fight, but his body won’t allow it.

“Don’t move!” Kyojuro’s voice booms over the sound of fighting. “Tanjiro, if your wound opens, it’ll be fatal! Standby!”

Tanjiro is stunned silent. His jaw drops, but no sound comes out. He looks up to Senjuro with frantic eyes.

“Don’t focus on the weaklings, Kyojuro!” Akaza screeches. “Give me all you got! Focus on me! Fight me!”

The sound of footsteps and puffing breath reach Senjuro’s ears. Turning his head, the pig-headed guy, Inosuke, runs up to his side. “Wow,” he breathes, and he’s completely shocked to a standstill, just like the other two.

This battle, full of blood and flames, engraves itself into Senjuro’s brain. His eyes refuse to blink despite the tears rolling down his cheeks. He wants to jump in, to help his beloved elder brother, but everything is moving too fast. There’s simply no opening in sight.

It stays like this for five, ten, fifteen minutes. Senjuro has completely lost all track of time. Hours may have passed, maybe even seconds. It’s impossible to tell anymore.

As a cloud of smoke dissipates into the night sky, the two fighters reappear, both standing in a defensive pose. Senjuro nearly chokes at the sight of blood soaking his brother’s clothes and coloring his face. This isn’t supposed to be how it goes. Kyojuro’s the Flame Pillar for gods’ sakes.

“It’s pointless, Kyojuro,” Akaza drawls. “All the hits you’ve made on me have already healed. But you… What about you? Your left eye is smashed, your ribs are broken, and your organs are wounded. There’s no way for you to recover from this. If you were a demon, you could heal yourself in a blink of an eye. All of this would be a mere scratch. No matter how much you struggle, you can’t beat me. Humans can’t beat demons.”

Both Inosuke and Tanjiro are trembling. They have to feel this dangerous sense in the air, just like Senjuro is. It’s coming.

The end is coming.

“I will fulfill my duties!” Kyojuro exclaims, raising his blade. “I won’t let anybody die here!”

Senjuro can’t move his eyes away from Akaza. The demon seems to be mumbling to himself, an awed expression playing on his face. He has no idea what Akaza is thinking, but his gut is saying something entirely different.

“You should really become a demon, Kyojuro!” Akaza screams, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He ducks down and Senjuro can practically feel the air thrumming around him. “Let’s fight for all eternity!”

Boom.

Akaza disappears in another cloud of dust; the air screams as its split in half from his blinding speed.

“No,” Senjuro mutters. “No!”

It’s at that moment his feet kick into gear. If he doesn’t do something now, Kyojuro’s going to end up dead. His heart races inside his chest, furiously pounding against his ribcage, but he doesn’t stop. He’s running blindly towards his older brother, rivers of tears streaming down his cheeks and splattering onto the dirt below. Kyojuro’s spent his entire life looking out for Senjuro; now it’s Senjuro’s turn to do the protecting. He’s been standing on the sideline for too long.

He’s a slayer, after all.

“Senjuro!” Tanjiro screams, his voice cracking towards the end.

Blood roars in Senjuro’s ears. He refuses to stop. He presses himself to go harder. It’s all for Kyojuro.

“Aniki!” Senjuro yells.

He can’t see through the dust. For a moment, he truly believes he’s gone by, but then the dust clears away once more. Akaza stands in front of him, disbelief reflecting in his eyes. For some reason, he doesn’t meet Senjuro’s eyes. Senjuro quickly glances down and chokes on a gasp. Akaza’s arm… is completely rammed through his abdomen.

Blood bubbles to the surface, stains Akaza’s tattooed arm and his own uniform. Senjuro gulps.

Kyojuro’s good eye widens at the sight before him. His own little brother, standing in front of him, with Akaza’s arm bursting out of his back. “Senjuro…?”

His face darkens in a fit of rage. His hands grips on the hilt of his blade; electricity sparkles to the ends of his fingertips and his vision turns red. An anguished cry of pure, unadulterated rage bellows throughout the night as he brings his blade down on Akaza’s neck.

It doesn’t slice all the way through, due to the thick muscle of Akaza’s neck. Cursing under his breath, Akaza throws his left arm out in a punch, trying to drive Kyojuro away. Just as his fist is about to make contact with Kyojuro’s bloodied face, Kyojuro’s other hand quickly clenches around Akaza’s wrist.

“Fuck, let me go!” Akaza screeches.

His right arm flexes inside of Senjuro’s body, sending shocks of pain up the boy’s spine. A fresh new wave of tears spills down his face. Both he and Kyojuro scream at each other in their deathly grips; from what Senjuro can see, the blade of Kyojuro’s sword slices further into Akaza’s neck.

“Inosuke, move! Come on! Move towards Rengoku-san!” Tanjiro’s scratchy voice yells.

Out of the corner of his eye, Senjuro can see the other two slayers running towards the three of them. In the distance, the first rays of dawn begin to peek across the tops of the trees. Holding his breath, Senjuro watches as Tanjiro and Inosuke close in on Akaza.

However, it’s too late.

With a great leap, Akaza breaks himself free of Kyojuro’s grasp. Both of his arms get torn off in the process, but his wild eyes and grit teeth are more than enough to show that he doesn’t care. With Kyojuro’s blade still stuck in his neck, he makes a beeline for the trees. Tanjiro immediately takes after him, screaming with rage.

“You coward!” Tanjiro bellows. “You damn coward! Rengoku-san won! He’s amazing! He’s strong! He’ll never lose, especially not to you!”

Senjuro drops to his knees.

“Oh, gods, no, no, no,” Kyojuro rambles, hastily dropping by Senjuro’s side. His bloody hands clutch Senjuro by the shoulders, force him to stay straight up. “Senjuro-“

Senjoru openly weeps. He feels his brother’s hands stroking his hair and face, but the tears won’t stop. It hurts so much. Blood and tears pool around him, and there’s nothing that can be done about it.

“Senjuro, look at me,” Kyojuro pleads. His face is a sore sight to look at; bruises are beginning to appear on his jaw and cheekbone, plus the blood flowing down his eye and down his mouth looks more like grotesque waterfalls. It paints Senjuro to see his elder brother like this.

With trembling hands, Senjuro latches weakly onto the fabric of Kyojuro’s cape. “A-aniki,” he hiccups, “I don’t want to die.”

Tears prick the corners of Kyojuro’s eyes. “You’re not, Senjuro. I refuse to let you. Just keep breathing, okay?”

“I just wanted to protect you,” Senjuro continues. He knows he’s rambling at this point, but he has to get these words out before he never has the chance to ever again. “You- you’ve always been the one protecting others. I wanted… I didn’t want to see you die.”

“You did a great job,” Kyojuro chokes out. “I’m so proud of you. I always was.”

Senjuro’s vision blurs. Whether it’s from the tears or blood loss, he doesn’t know. “I’m… I’m going to see Mom again, aren’t I?”

This time, Kyojuro can’t hold back the sob that leaves his throat. He clutches Senjuro to his chest, buries his face in Senjuro’s hair. “My boy. My beautiful boy.”

Gorgeous streaks of pink and orange fill the morning sky. Pulling away, Kyojuro flashes Senjuro a heart wrenching smile. It’s soft, just like the sun. Kyojuro’s always been like the sun in Senjuro’s eyes: so full of life, bright, amazing. All he ever wanted was to be like his brother.

Over Kyojuro’s shoulder, a shimmering form appears in the sunlight. It’s someone Senjuro hasn’t seen in a long time.

“Mom?”

His mother smiles softly. “You protected your brother, Senjuro. Thank you.”

“Can I… Can I go home now?”

His mother nods her head. “Yes.”

With a sniffle, Senjuro looks back to Kyojuro. “Aniki… I’ll say hi to Mom for you.”

Kyojuro’s face scrunches, his shoulders shaking, but that pained smile still remains. “I look forward to meeting you again, Senjuro.”

“I do too, Aniki. I do too.”

[theimpossiblehologramtree]

Falling For You

Parring: Poe Dameron x reader

Word count: 3800+

anonymous asked: Request for Poe x reader: reader is injured on a mission and Poe admits he’s in love with her when he thought she was unconscious but the reader could actually hear him and confronts him about it later, saying she loves him too

Warnings: erm swearing, injuries

A/N: Thanks for requesting, sweet anon! I hope you like it. I’m a day late with this one, but ✨🌌 HAPPY STAR WARS DAY AND MAY THE FORTH BE WITH YOU, ALWAYS  🌌 ✨

Please keep in mind that English is not my first language.

🐝masterlist🐝

REQUEST IF YOU WANT MORE

☕buy me a Ko-fi!☕

Gifs are not mine. Credits to the owner.

'Fuck, I'm hit!'

You felt panic rush through your veins, as you lost control over your ship. The damaged X-Wing was spinning in the air, falling, the distance between it and the ground decreasing rapidly. Your heart was pumping in your chest quickly, almost as if it wanted to escape. Your small, fragile fingers, that were covered in blood, were pulling a parachute leaver, but to no avail. The metal got stuck, and you were trapped in a falling ship with no way to escape.

'(Y/N), where are you?! Just hang on, okay?' you've heard your best friend and General yell. You tried to look around and see if you can spot his red X-Wing, but everything was foggy. You felt your heart sink, when you realized, that you will not be able to see him for the last time. Being a Resistance pilot, you were used to the thought of near death, but getting separated with Poe - it was something else.

He was your best friend ever since you had met on Yavin 4. He was a spice runner while you were just a regular smuggler, but the connection between you was strong. You had to share your ship with him and his friends since both you and they had gotten in some trouble back on Tatooine. Preferring leaving, rather than dealing with that nasty situation, you made a deal and you transported them as far from there as possible. The travel was unproblematic unless you count Poe constantly trying to get under your skin. You had been drawn to him instantly. At first, he was just a "fun guy to spend time with", but you got on well and became best friends. When he told you he was joining the Resistance, you didn't even think twice before coming with him. That's when the bond you shared grew stronger since both of you were flying in the same squadron.

Right, friendship. You had never been more than that. Not that you didn't want to, I mean, you were basically madly in love with him. You adored his sarcastic personality, his cheeky comments, his beautiful dark curls and sparkly eyes. He made you feel special and unique in every way possible. He reassured you when you didn't feel needed. He helped you. He always complimented you, mostly on your looks and flying skills, heck, he even admitted that you were the best pilot in the universe, better than him. He was half-drunk and in a state of euphoria after a successful mission, but you would always point this out in your arguments. You loved him, but you've never had the chance (or the guts) to tell him.

And now you never will.

You remembered all the memories you shared with Poe. The first time you went stargazing, a thing that quickly became your habit, something you did after every mission. You would lie down on the roof of the base and just stare at the night sky full of shining stars. You remembered the first time he called you his best friend, which made you so emotional that you teared up. He just held you against his chest, chuckling and running his fingers through your hair, while you cried. You had never had friends before, and the thought of having someone you could rely on by your side made your heart warm.

The memory of the first time you argued crossed your mind. You were supposed to go on a dangerous secret mission for the Resistance. When General Organa told you, you were so happy, finally having the opportunity to prove yourself in the field. Poe, on the other hand, got mad. He didn't think you needed to prove yourself, but his emotions were mostly caused by the fact that you were supposed to go alone. It's not that he thought you were weak and helpless, on a contrary, but be was just worried something might happen to you. He started yelling at you, confessing that he cared for you and he just couldn't lose you too. That made your heart break.

And now he was yelling at you to hang on.

'Thanks, but that's really not an option, Dameron!' you yelled back, instantly regretting it, since those might have been your last words. But, Maker, he was really stupid sometimes. You tried to look up at his ship, hoping that you might see him for the last time before your fall ends, but to no avail. The glass was shattered, foggy, covered in gasoline and your blood. Closing your eyes you brought back every detail of his face, every wrinkle, every freckle and every little scar.

'Poe...' you whispered, as your life was getting closer to its end. You saw his eyes and heard his joyful laughter ring in your ears.

And then there was nothing.

-

'(Y/N) NO!' the small cockpit was filled with screams of terror, as Poe watched his best friend's ship crash on the ground. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his eyes started well with tears. A wave of guilt, shock and sadness hit him, while all he could do was to stare at the wrecked X-Wing. At first, he didn’t feel anything. No sadness or despair, he felt just fine. His mind still didn’t process the fact that he had just lost his best friend. Poe never thought much about losing you, since you were a great pilot, so he wasn’t prepared to let you go. Before the battle, he didn’t say goodbye to you, because he never had. You always joked together before taking off and while being high up in the air.

‘Hey, flyboy! Just don’t look straight at the sun!’ you told him right before getting into your ship.

‘Don’t you worry, I’ll be too busy watching your shitty flying, Princess!’ he replied, laughing.

‘I’m the best pilot in the galaxy, you said so yourself!’

Poe couldn’t help but stare at you in awe. The beams of sunlight crowned your head, making your hair look like someone dusted powdered gold on it. You looked like an angel. Poe’s heart fluttered as he watched you, a dreamy smile forming on his lips.

He loved you, even though you were just friends and nothing more. He knew you could never be separated.

But here he was, alive and healthy, looking at your demolished ship. He had just witnessed your death, but it didn't move him. He was... fine. All he felt was a shock, no pain, no grief. It made him worry slightly. His mind screamed at him to feel anything, any emotion, bad or good, whatever. But he didn't. He was just numb. His eyes traced the route of Millenium Falcon, as Lando flew closer to see if you were anywhere to be found.

'General, what do we do?' he heard a voice, that belonged to one of his pilots, through the communication system. Poe had no answer to that. He half wished to be back home at Yavin 4, while the other part screamed for the fight to continue. He was desperate for any kind of reaction from his body, a power to scream or tears in his eyes. But it just wouldn't come.

'General?'

'Do we go back to the base?'

'We won, General!'

'General, we can go home now!'

He couldn't listen to that anymore. Poe mumbled a quick 'Yeah', before taking off his helmet. He couldn't come back home.

He just lost it.

-

A distant cheering snapped him out of his thoughts. They won. But he lost everything. Carefully Poe tried to stand up and move his bandaged hand. It was just a minor injury, compared to what was happening in his heart. Without a word, he walked out of the medical room and headed outside. He had no place to go to be alone. Everything reminded him of you, even his own quarters.

'Poe!' he turned around, at the sound of the familiar voice. Finn was cheering and running to him with a smile on his lips. This made Poe let out a sigh of relief. At least Finn was all right. Hugging his friend with one hand, Poe smiled sadly.

'Poe, we've won. The war is over!' Finn yelled and laughed, doing a little dance of victory.

'Yeah, that's great...' that was all the pilot could bring himself to say. He was truly happy that they won. He just wished the price wasn't that big.

'What is it, huh?' Finn asked, concerned, the smile coming off of his lips. 'Are you not happy? Isn't it what you wanted?'

The silence was more than enough of a response.

'Is it about (Y/N)? Is she not gonna make it?' Poe's head shot up at those words. Is she not gonna make it? What the hell does that mean?

'What do you mean?' he asked slowly, his orbs not leaving Finn's. His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest.

'I just thought they had news abo- Oh, Maker!' the stormtrooper's eyes winded in realization. 'You don't know, do you?'

Poe's heart was beating faster than ever. He was still confused but also worried, not knowing what his best friend meant. What if Rey got fatally injured - or died - too. He wouldn't be able to take it.

'Do I know what, Finn?'

'She is alive. Lando got her out of that wreck just in time. She is in fatal condition, the medics don't know if she is gonna make it, but she didn't die. Not yet.' the man said slowly.

Poe was sure, that if it wasn't for the extreme adrenaline rush he just felt, he would have collapsed right there. He still wasn't entirely sure if he believed it. His heart was pounding in his chest at an incredible speed. No, it couldn't be. Perhaps he heard wrong. Or Finn wasn't thinking about (Y/N).

This was a battle, of course a lot of people died. He didn't want to get his hopes up.

But he had to make sure. Even if that meant getting his heart broken again, he had to ask for confirmation.

'Say that again' he whispered faintly, barely making any sound.

'She is alive, Poe. (Y/N) is still alive.'

That's all it took. The sound of your name was enough to make him break out a run and sprint back to the hospital, where he had been just a few minutes ago. Glancing through the glass, he quickly found the room they put you in and burst in through the open door. You were there, laying on the bed, with your hair splayed on the pillow in a messy halo. Your body was covered in blood, dirt and dust, but in Poe's opinion, you still looked beautiful.

Lots of cuts and bruises covered your face, and you had a wide gash on your stomach, which was the main source of blood that was covering everything. Poe's eyes darted instantly to your chest, looking for any sign of life. It was rising and collapsing in an unsteady rhythm. Your nose and lips were covered by the oxygen mask, and there were lots of cables connecting you to medical devices. The heart rate monitor showed an increasing line.

The nurses were bustling around the room, searching frantically for bandages, patches and gauzes. They were displaying surgical threads, needles and scalpels on the sterile metal table to sew the wound on your stomach.

Poe felt his heart stop, not for the first time this day. You were in terrible conditions, but you were alive. He felt his eyes prickle slightly as he watched your closed ones. A tear fell on his cheek and rolled down, falling on the tiles. Relief washed over him as he sunk to his knees, still standing in the doorway. The nurses seemed to take notice of him, and one quickly scurried over to the pilot.

'Sir, you have to leave. We will have to perform surgery on her, and we must not be interrupted. Please, stay in the waiting area' she said professionally and gestured to the chair in the hallway.

'But I love her...' Poe whispered, ignoring woman's words.

'I know, but she has very little chance of surviving and must receive help right away.'

'I love her' he just repeated, his gaze still lingering on your face. He couldn't get enough of seeing you alive.

'Sir, please...'

It wasn't until Poe heard his friend's voice and felt a pair of strong arms pulling him up, that he snapped.

'Poe, come on. It's all right, she is in good hands' Finn said, helping him get up. Poe managed to get a last glimpse at your unconscious figure before walking away. His mind was racing. He still couldn't believe you were alive. All he could do was stare blankly at the floor, not knowing what to do.

'Hey...' Finn spoke softly 'You should rest, it's been a really long day.' Poe blinked a couple of times and shook his head.

'No, I'm fine. I'll stay here in case she wakes up' he said loudly but seemed to be unsure of his words. He saw you, after all. It would have taken a miracle for you to get better.

'Hey buddy, she will be all right. You need to take care of yourself, or they won't let you in. No offence mate, but you stink' Finn scrunched his nose. In fact, his friend didn't stink - he mainly smelled of gasoline and sweat - but he was in terrible conditions. They haven't slept in ages, and Poe had dark hollow circles around his teary eyes. His uniform was dirty, the fabric torn in a few places, and he had an injured hand wrapped in bandages. To be frank, he looked no better than you.

'She will be all right, Poe. I will wait here for any news. You have to rest.'

The pilot didn't seem sure and was about to protest, but he caught his friend's sharp look.

'You come to me as soon as anything happens, understood?' he said, sighing in defeat.

'Understood, General.'

'I need you to promise me.'

'I promise, Poe.'

And with that, the pilot was instantly gone.

-

'Just for fifteen minutes, General Dameron.'

Poe quickly scurried into the room and sat gently on the side of your bed. You were after the surgery - the medics did an exceptionally good job - yet still unconscious.

'Hey, Princess' he whispered, running his fingers through your hair. 'Next time don't scare me like that.'

Your face was calm, eyes closed and cheeks slightly flushed. Poe couldn't help but stare at you in awe. Even now, you were perfect.

'But hey, we won!' he breathed, too scared to raise his voice.

'We destroyed those sons of bitches, (Y/N), we did it!'

And just like that, he started telling you about your victory. How at first there seemed to be no hope. How he had shot at the giant ships.

But then he came to the part where you got hit. Tears welled in his eyes at the memory of your falling X-wing. His voice started shaking, and he had to bite his lip to prevent himself from crying. Once again, Poe saw your ship getting hit, orange and yellow colours of explosion flew in front of his eyes. As he saw the machine fall down, he wanted to scream your name again.

-

At first, you had felt a few wet drops - probably someone's tears - fall on your cheeks and neck. Then a wave of pain hit you in your stomach. You were too tired to open your eyes or make a sound.

'And my heart stopped at that moment, Princess' you felt your heartbeat quicken at the familiar voice.

Poe.

He took your hand and squeezed tightly.

'I love you, (Y/N). And I just can't lose you' he said, making your heart skip a beat. You were lucky the nurses forgot to turn on the heart monitor, or he would have been able to hear everything. There was a moment of silence before the door creaked.

'General, we must insist you leave. Fifteen minutes are up.'

You felt the weight of his body shift from the bed, Poe stood up.'Goodbye, my sweet princess' he whispered and placed a loving kiss on your forehead, before walking away.

-

You felt a light breeze of the morning wind brush against your face, as you walked down a corridor that was leading to the hangar. You were heading there to see Poe. It was supposed to be a surprise since he didn't know you were out of the hospital yet. Knowing your best friend, he was fixing his X-Wing despite the early hours. It wasn't uncommon among the pilots of the Resistance to be up on their feet before the sunrise. Working on machines and improving their efficiency with droids helped clear your minds before missions. You were sure this is where you should be looking for a certain brown-haired ex-spice runner.

And you weren't wrong.

As soon as you walked into the hangar, you immediately spotted him. Poe was standing next to his half-demolished X-Wing, armed with some wrenches and screwdrivers. He was talking to Finn, who was standing nearby with BB-8 that was circling vigorously. You took a moment to admire the view, before coming over. The droid saw you first, beeped enthusiastically and scurried over to you. It bumped into your legs, nearly sweeping you off your feet.

'Hey, buddy!' you kneeled next to him, laughing. 'Missed me?'

BB-8 beeped happily in response. You straightened its antennae, chuckling at the small robot. You could feel Poe's shocked gaze focused at you while standing up. You locked your eyes with him and walked over, smiling.

'Looking good, flyboy!' you said to him.

'What are you doing here, Princess?' he asked, clearly stunned by your presence. He dropped everything to the floor and took your arms into his hands, so delicately as if they were made of porcelain.

'I'm happy to see you too, Poe' you chuckled at his reaction. 'They let me out today, so I came here to see some old friends.'

The pilot snapped out of his thoughts and embracing you tightly, bringing you as close as possible with all the strength he had. His eyes started to water slightly when he inhaled the scent of your sweet shampoo. If Lando hadn't gotten you out of that wreck, you wouldn't be here. You wrapped your arms around his torso, hugging him back. Your hands wandered to his hair, as you wrapped his curls between your fingers.

'It's okay now, flyboy. I'm here' you whispered soothingly. 'I'm not leaving you.'

You stayed in this position for five minutes, just embracing each other, appreciating your presence. Poe finally let go and looked you deep in the eyes, with a small smirk already forming on his lips.

'I told you your  flying is shitty' he stated, making you laugh.

'Excuse me?! I believe you were the one yelling at me to hang on when I got hit' you poked his chest and sticking your tongue at him.

He laughed and caught you by your waist, bringing you closer to him again.

'I was just trying to be helpful, darling' he said, tickling your stomach. You squealed and tried to wriggle out of his strong grip. You didn't succeed, so the only thing you could do is return the favour, starting a tickle fight in the middle of the hangar.

'Get a room!' somebody yelled from the small crowd that had already gathered around you.

'Yeah, Poe. Get your girlfriend and go to your quarters!' shouted Finn, who knew about your mutual love for each other. He, more than anything, was rooting for your friendship to turn into something more.

'Come on, man, you know we are not together' the pilot let you go, blushing furiously.

'Is that so, Poe?' you teased him. After he confessed his love to you when he thought you weren't listening, you finally had the guts to tell him about the feelings you returned. 'I thought you loved me and just couldn't lose me.'

'What?' he turned his head to face you, his eyes wide. You knew about his crush. 'I don't, (Y/N). I never said anything like that' he said trying to deny his affection.

'Oh, yeah? Cause I think you did. A few days ago, when you thought I was still unconscious.'

The crowd around you increased, people were clearly interested, and you couldn't exactly blame them, you were making quite a scene. Poe's face turned red, and his eyes widened. His heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to explode in his chest. You fucking knew, and it was his fault.

'No, Princess, you must have been dreaming' he giggled nervously attempting to hide his embarrassment. 'I don't love you, because... because if I did, you would mean the world to me. I wouldn't be able to live without you by my side. And I would have stupid nicknames for you, that I would use, even if you hated them. And I would love all the little quirks you have, all the little things you do. The way you put a single strand of hair behind your ear would be the highlight of my day. If I loved you, I would do anything to make you laugh, just to see that spark in your eyes, that appears when you smile. I would wake up and fall asleep just thinking about you. And my heart would - fuck - it would stop every time I see you and every time I hear your angelic voice. I would want to share my every day with you because you make my life better, Princess. And... and... I do. I fucking love you, (Y/N).'

The entire room went silent at his words. You slowly approached Poe, shaking your head in disbelief.

'I fucking love you too, flyboy' you said, bringing your hand to his cheek. He looked up hesitantly, his lips parting slightly in surprise. His brown eyes met yours, and for a while, you just looked deeply at each other.

'Fuck' he breathed out, before slamming his lips onto your with incredible strength. The unexpected kiss knocked the breath out of your lungs. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you, and closing the gap between your bodies. Poe smiled into the kiss and lifted you off the ground gently, spinning you in the air. You could hear the people cheering at you but at the moment the only thing that mattered was Poe Dameron, the (second) best pilot in the galaxy.

[bluesakurablossom]

One Dirty Cop and One Bad Girl

TMNT X Fem Reader

Very NSWF! Loved your snippet you made for me @lotus-and-the-terrapins, it was so dirty but I loved every second of it. I wrote this one for a return for you and your sexy leader! Hope you love it! I am surprised I wrote this much in one go! <3 <3 <3 Hearing the sound of the punch in machine beep at the end of an exhausting, bone aching shift, you couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh, you were relieved of your duties from your shift and you were finally able to go home. As you exited out through the doors, a warm gust of wind blew against your messy ponytail, causing a few stray strands of hair to follow in its direction. The air itself was sticky and humid, and being in scrubs didn’t help much as they clung on to your skin. You were just wanting to go home, take a nice long hot shower and curl up on the couch with a glass of wine. Thick heavy clouds hung over the city covering almost half of the buildings that surrounded the block. It looked like it would storm again tonight, you trudged your bag over your shoulder and walked towards the parking lot in the back of the building to reach your vehicle. Once inside you plopped down into the seat with an exasperated moan, your body thanking you finally giving it a much-needed break. If only he were here right now. He could make the pain of the day just melt away with just a simple loving and strong embrace. You missed him. It has been a few weeks since you both last were able to see each other and the desire of you two being together, joining bodies was becoming unbearable now. But after two years of a relationship blossoming into something beautiful, filled with love, excitement, trust, and discovery each moment spent with him was like being in a whole new world where you two could just forget about everything that was around, no stress, no work, no patrol, and no one else….it could just be you two and you two only where the love can flourish. But since being a hero of the city is no easy task and can be time consuming with your schedules, these last few weeks have been hell without being with him. And the same could be said for him, even though you both sent texts when you had a chance it just wasn’t enough for you both…but tonight he had something in mind to make up for lost time. You knew his schedule tonight and he would be on patrol late. He was recently offered a position with the NYPD, and of course to be able to still be leader of his brothers and be an officer of the law, it made him feel like he could do so much more now since he was an honored for saving the city from the alien invasion that happened a few years ago. Seeing the way, he smiled at you when he was given his key, you felt so happy for him, he always deserved this after all the incredible things he has done. In a world where no one would understand him simply because of his species and abilities, it seemed he was dealt with a bad hand and cursed forever of the thought of being alone. But all that thought and negativity seemed to have faded away when he met you on that fateful night saving you from a mugging. You were left astounded by the way he moved and how well toned his whole body was, you almost thought it was just some dream that you hoped you would of never woke up from. As the relationship went along, he lead you into a world that you had never experienced before with any other male you had ever been with and treated you like you were the only woman that was left on this blue planet. But the best thing that you could of done for him was to bring down his insecurity of himself and given him the one thing he always had wanted, to someone to call his own and treasure for an eternity, regardless of being a giant mutant that could easily make a fatal move with one slash from his glistening katana. Just the thought of him entering your mind, you already felt the heat beginning to burn in your core and were just about to take care of it, till you shook your mind clear hearing another car starting up in front of you as a colleague was backing up her car leaving for the night. Another sigh left your lip as you turned your car to start before backing out of the spot before driving off into the smoggy night. The bright white lights of the lampposts reflected off the windshield, casting beams on to you etching along your curves as you went down the usual route to get home. But to your surprise there was a detour sign in the middle of the road, the arrow pointing right to force you to take the longer route home. “Just my fucking luck…” You grumbled to yourself turning your car in the direction the arrow pointed to. Now it would be longer before you could be home to get pampered, the wetness of your folds was starting to soak your scrubs as your mind tried to focus on the road ahead that was vacant and losing light from the lack of lampposts, with only the light of the moon and your headlights lighting your way. After a few miles of driving a pair of headlights appeared in your rear mirror as it turned from an alleyway. You didn’t think too much of it, people parked in the alleys sometimes especially like the big trucks that deliver to the café across the street from your apartment. The beams from the lights were blinding as you had to squint your eyes to avoid crashing, this guy couldn’t have been a delivery truck, not with lights that bright. But after another moment, you groaned in annoyance and hitting the steering wheel with your fist, seeing the now flashing blue and red lights behind you. “Shit! Shit! I should of known it was cops, damn it!”, You turned on your blinker slowing down your vehicle to a stop on the stretch of road with the car following you for the last few miles stop behind you. First an exhausting day, not being able to see your lover for weeks, and now being pulled over by the cops, what more shit could happen? This wasn’t your night at all. As you sat there waiting patiently for the officer to appear your mind began to wonder on what the hell did you get pulled over for, your tags were not expired, your lights were working and you were definitely sure that you were going the speed limit. You turned off your car as you waited impatiently with a groan, you just wanted to go home, you were horny as fuck and you just wanted to take the ticket and get home as fast as you could. You kept your eyes glued on the rearview mirror wondering what was taking so long, but as the car door opened, your pupils widen at the three fingered hand that gripped at the top of the door. A hulking figure stepped out and adjusted something around his head, turning into your direction you saw the familiar dark blue mask tails fly in the wind behind him. The lights from his car shadowing his muscular body to show every delicious and bulging curve. It was him? He pulled her over? For what? Then her mind went back to the detour sign that she had come to earlier. This was a trap!You smirked to yourself, he had this planned the whole time and even though it was out in public, that just added to the excitement. You let your ponytail become loose trying to make yourself look presentable and took some lip gloss from your purse before giving it a few dabs and spraying yourself with the perfume that he couldn’t resist. You looked beautiful in the mirror even after working twelve hours, you looked perfect to him. As your hands gripped the steering wheel firmly as he approached, you were going to test his abilities as a cop, bringing a challenge that he knew he couldn’t resist. Rolling down the window, you were met with your master. You bitten your lower lip slightly, showing your upper pearly whites. The musk from his cologne that you had gotten him filled your nostrils with him leaning down on his well-toned tattooed forearm. He cocked his head to the side giving you a sly smirk. The heat from your cheeks burned and the feeling of butterflies were forming in your belly seeing him in his cop uniform, even with his hulking size, they somehow managed to make a fit for him and damn did he look downright sexy. He was a true figure of masculinity. He reached from his side to pull out a long black flashlight, with the click from his thumb it beamed on your beautiful figure. He churred softly, you get more beautiful every time he sees you and tonight, he was rather famished. “Mam, do you have any idea why I pulled you over?“Not a clue officer, I mean after all I didn’t break any laws” You blushed softly hugging yourself around your waist As you did such that, your breasts were being pushed together by your forearms with a grin forming on your face. He let a deep churr rumble from his chest as he reached in and took a hold of your left breast in his hand kneading it with his nimble fingers. As a blissful moan left your lips, your arms released gripping yourself letting them fall weak to your side as he continued to roll it slowly in counter clock wise position. His warm thumb rubbed over your clothed nipple as it began to grow and perk painfully under your bra. Your head rolled in a semi circle as his hand released the breast with a deep hard squeeze, before trailing up your collarbone to your shoulder giving it a gentle stroke. How you missed his touch, its enticing each time he did but this time it was ten times more wanting than ever as his gentle fingers came to your chin pushing your head up to meet his sparkling blue eyes. “Why don’t you show me your license and registrations first before I tell you why first, now”, He said in a demanding tone Giggling at the intimacy that this so called role playing was going, you felt a rush down in your core, and your panties became very soaked. He was playing a good game and this so far was the best rush she had ever felt with him. “Yes…sir”, She quietly spoke licking her upper lip before giving the tips of his fingers gentle kissesNow that he felt her soft luscious lips again, he was just about ready to pounce on her, but he had to hold back every urge to not take her right now as the growing pain in his bulge starting to tent in his pants. How he missed her, the feeling of her underneath him as he took the power and control he has to remind her who she belonged to. Soon as she unbuckled her seatbelt she got up on her knees on the edge of the seat to reach in her glove compartment. Now he had a full view of her smooth ass in his face. “Now where did I put that information?”, She giggled, she was playing dumb but boy did he love it. It sent the blood rushing faster throughout him and reaching his dick making it even harder. Even in her scrubs, her ass was beautiful and looked delicious. As she swayed her hips giving him a full on show, he let his hand run up and down her thigh, sending goosebumps to rise up on her skin before letting his hand immediately gripped the one cheek, digging his fingers into the mouthwatering flesh, earning a gasp from her as he slapped it hard sending her to jerk forward. “Having trouble finding it mam?” His voice filled with intimidation His hand rubbed over where he swatted her as she backed herself into his hand rolling into his touch. Your eyes shut to the intimacy moaning with a smile forming on your lips, but your breath was caught in your throat when you felt his finger travel lower, feeling your clothed wet core and a soft whimper left your lips. He let a shaky breath come from his lungs, damn you were soaking wet already, he felt it all over his fingers as it soaked through your scrubs. He brought it up to his mouth and licked it cleaned and couldn’t help but shudder, he could taste you were desperate, but it wouldn’t be long till he would drive you wild. Once he finished cleaning off his fingers, you were able to reach what you needed to give your information as you held it in your hands, trying to hide your quickened breath. “Here it is, officer” She blushed pink in her creamy skin You tried to remain your composure but after that little act he did, you were already a hot mess, you were about ready to cum all over his hand, but as it left you without giving the satisfaction that you craved you couldn’t help but whine in disappointment. But that was just a foreplay for you had no idea what you would be in for when he would show you how badly he missed and wanted you for what was to come. Leonardo took the info but not before leaning in smashing his lips to hers gripping her chin. Her lips connected with his immediately as they began an intimate dance, but as she tried to reach with her hand to bring the kiss in deeper his other hand gripped her wrist stopping the advancements, before allowing his lips to pull away from hers with a pop. “I am about to drive you wild, you wait here, and don’t move, I got to run your record” His voice pierced her like an arrow before giving her forehead a kiss before leaving her in a desperate state, damn how could he be leaving her like this? Everything he did he always left her wanting more, he was the god of sex and intimacy. You tried to regain your composure leaning back in your seat, your heart was already pounding hard and your core was beginning to twitch and throb painfully, desperate for Leo’s cock to slide inside to take her like he has so many times before. When it came to sex, it was always something to be excited about with Leo, he always had something new to try on her and when it came to how intimate it could get, you might as well have been on the set of fifty shades of grey. You didn’t even hear the sound of his skillful footsteps returning to your door as you heard it opened up. “Mam, I ran your record and I need you to step out of the car for me”, He demanded the hunger in his eyes was now showing more than ever You looked up at him and his chest was puffed out, damn that uniform made him look hundred times sexy as he leaned against the door, holding out his hand for you. You smirked and actually defying his order, you just stood up and crossed your arms over your already aching chest, your breasts were swollen and almost ready to burst of their confines of your bra. “Just what is it that I did wrong? You got nothing on me” Your tone showing defiance and teasing But before you could do anything else he spun you around so fast by gripping on to your wrist, slamming you against your car rear door. He hushed you softly as you tried to push back but his grip was solid on you. “I would watch your tone for who you are talking to you, my starling, you know better to respect an officer of the law” He whispered in your ear sucking softly on your ear lobeHis warm strong hands began to roam over your body slowly feeling every little curve that you possessed. You were starting to feel weak in the knees as you could feel his bulge against your ass struggling to stay standing up. “Do you have any weapons or items that might hurt me on you? Yes or no?” He softly spoke, his words dripping like venom You moaned uncontrollably as his hands slid underneath your scrubs and began to crawl up and down along the skin of your belly before reaching up sneaking under bra and grasping both breasts tightly. A quiet scream escaped from you as he began to knead your breasts carefully as his hungry lips attacked the side of your neck, his teeth digging into the flesh. A mark that would make any male know she was taken and already claimed by him. “Yes or no?”, He demanded once again “N-no but I might have something that might bring you delight” She whispered gripping on to his wrists that were still torturing her breasts, hearing her response sparked a curious smile to come to his face as he looked at her breathlessly. “Lower…”, She softly whispered and as she tried to catch her breath one hand left from her breast traveling down lower till it reached the waist band of her pants. Sliding past the material, he struck gold feeling her soaking wet core letting his fingers stroke it delicately. Her head threw back against his shoulder gasping as his hand left her other breast to hold her against him on her waist as his thumb began to rub and tickle at the little pearl he felt already peeking out. You moaned loudly letting out cries of pleasure as a finger slid up inside your cunt and began to pump in and out of you in a quick pace. Your hips rolled against his movement trying to keep up as your ass slapped against his waist. “Oh and just what is this?” “Leo god damn it! Fuck! Yes!” She cried as he spread her legs wider with his feet to reach deeper up inside. His lips pressed against the back of her neck “What is this? I won’t ask again my starling” He started to pump faster and faster, before she could feel the tightness of her cunt becoming painful before she looked over her shoulder to look at him with a pleasured look “You know good and well what it is” She smirked biting her lower lip. That was it. He pulled his hand out from inside her pants as he took both of her wrists, bringing them tightly around her back as he started to push her from her running car to his own patrol car. He opened the back seat of his own vehicle before turning her around and pushing her inside till she felt the feeling of rich leather against her back. He crawled like a stalking predator towards his prey taking your arms and pinning them above your head. “You mam, have been a very bad girl” He stared deep into your eyes his hot breathe fogging in the very close space that had given you little air to breathe He reached from the back of his pants pocket pulling out a pair of handcuffs, taking her wrists he clipped the braces to the one wrist before wrapping it around the handle of the other side of the car door before clipping the other, restraining her in place. “You are under arrest” He pulled on her restraints to make sure she wouldn’t be able to escape from his pleasure “On what charge?”, You tugged hard at the cuffs but there was no turning back now, he was hungry and your cunt was going to be sore for quite awhile “I didn’t do anything” “For breaking the newest law in my book” He started to unbutton his shirt in front of you to reveal his sexy plated chest a mischievous smile looking down at your giggling form, sitting down on your hips, you could feel his bulge pulsing against your sex and you started to rub your hips up against eager to feel his cock already after being so long apart. He took out a small knife from his belt and let the blade come unfold before he took it to your scrubs, take the blade he made the first cut at the top till it went lower and lower making a perfect clean cut avoiding contact with you skin as he pushed it open revealing your bra, and with another small quick cut the bra was no longer useable as your breasts bounced out into the warm humid air. His hands grazed over them both before giving each nipple a flick. Flipping the blade closed and putting it back into his belt, he started to slide down your pants and panties in one go before throwing them on the floor. “According to this law, it’s illegal for someone just as yourself to be this needy and beautiful at the same time” He lifted up your hips till your ass was resting on his thighs and that’s when he slowly started to lower his head and started to hungrily eat at your cunt, pushing his head deeper while spreading your thighs wider. He allowed his mouth to finally engulf your entire core, churring loudly finally getting a taste of you that he so wanted from the moment he laid eyes on you. Your hips went airborne thrusting high up at the sudden contact screaming in delight, but his capable hands snaked under your thighs pulling you closer and slamming them down on his forearms, giving him complete control over you. His thick tongue licked up, down and in circles of your pink petals as your ankles hooked together around the back of his neck beckoning him to come closer. Your body began to tremble under the waves of pleasure he sent throughout your body and your fingers very tightly gripping at the cuffs that kept you bound at the door. “Can’t you just let me off with a warning?”, You whimpered feeling his lips and tongue torture your pearl relentlessly, as your belly began to bloat up building up bigger for an orgasm He didn’t answer, he was so focused on his task that your breathing and begging was drowned out in his ears. The pupils in his eyes widen as he let his tongue slid past your petals sliding deeper into the walls of your cunt. His capable tongue being able to touch every nerve sending you over the edge, massaging the walls of your pussy. Your eyes began to roll in the back of your head as he moved his one hand from your thigh to right above your core pressing down on your lower belly with his thick thumb pushing it for an orgasm. You whimpered feeling his pace quicken as his tongue circled all around inside you before coiling back out to come back to your petals and suck on your clit, like as if it were a piece of a candy. Everything was spinning now and you were starting to see stars, the fact that you were naked in the back of a patrol car with your sexy terrapin giving you oral while on the job, it sounded so dirty and so wrong, but you didn’t give a fuck about that and I am sure that he didn’t neither. Even for being a gentleman that he was, even a good boy can turn bad every once in a while. As he pressed down further into your belly your grip on the cuffs tightened to where you could hardly feel the blood rushing through your fingers anymore sending a huge wave of pleasure to rush down from your spine to your cunt as you finally released flooding his mouth and chest. “Nahhhh! Leonardo! Fuck! Oh my god! Yes!” Yelling at the top of your lungs as your ass collapsed on his thighs. Your breath was ragged, your hair was a mess and sweat covered every inch of your body. But it was from over yet. As he let your legs rest down beside him, you looked at him as your body still continued to twitch and his nimble fingers began to make work from the confines of his pants as they slid down his hips till his cock was high in the air, the veins on the side pulsing profusely. Your mouth watered as he used the back of his hand to clean his face from your juices and gave a churr of approval. “I am afraid I can’t do that mam, for its my duty as an officer of the law and you my starling need to face your punishment for your actions, you have the right to remain, no you better not be silent, anything you do or say is going to make me fuck you harder” He grabbed his cock and rubbed it teasingly at your folds, soaking the head up in your wetness and your cunt throbbed uncontrollably begging to let it take him already. But he was making sure to get himself ready, to make this moment one of the best he could ever give you. Slowly he pushed himself inside of you and you moaned happily at the delicious stretch as he slid deeper inside of you, he held your hip for balance till he started to go at a slow pace. Your cunt closed in around his cock tightly as the plushiness of your walls started to milk him. Once he got a good pace going he crawled up further till he held both of your cheeks and smashed his lips into yours. You moaned happily hooking your legs once more this time around his waist bringing him deeper to where he would get the g-spot that would for sure give you the best orgasm. As your lips danced seductively, connecting and reconnecting over and over again, your tongue managed to escape and lick his lower lip beckoning his tongue to come inside for a visit. He chuckled darkly as he pressed his tongue passed your lips he tangles his up with your pressing it down, even for a small appendage it took control very easily just like he does. His arms snaked around your back and the other around your head pulling you into a loving embrace and bringing the kiss deeper into passion and love. Even for being a beast, he could be so gentle at times, he was a gentle giant but with a frisky side. His cock kept rubbing against your walls as his pace started to move faster. Deep in his belly he felt a urge to cum all over her, but wanted to make sure that he got all of it inside of her. His cool plastron cooled down your hot sweaty body as he laid himself carefully down on your delicate form as his thrusts continued to get harder as he pulled out before slamming back in, you begged and begged that he could just thrust himself enough to hit that spot. Your cunt began to turn red from the intensity as you felt yourself cry out again in pleasure feeling your insides about ready to explode and the knot of orgasm beginning to tighten. “Leonardo! Please! Please!” You looked deep into his eyes breathing ragged as the sound of skin on skin continuing to slap hard leaving red marks “Don’t resist an officer, cum for me beautiful, cum for me hard!” His breathing also hard from the amount of effort he was putting himself into and he crawled up higher on to your upper body where your breasts were squished underneath his plated chest, he slammed himself repeatedly keeping your lips locked into a passionate kiss. The amount of noise you two were making was enough to drown out every sound in the city. Your skin began to vibrate and jiggle struggling to stay up with his pace screaming out throwing your head back against the leather of the seat feeling yourself reach nirvana, till Leo growled out loudly, letting his animal instincts be shown to their fullest, before finally releasing, finally letting his cum fill you up as you gasped at the hot feeling of it sinking deep into your cunt. He rested his head in the crook of your shoulder starting to slow down his thrusts, as you both started to come down from your high thrill of ecstasy. He took the chain off your restraints tugging at it effortlessly breaking the chain allowing your shoulders to relax as they clung tiredly around his sweaty shoulders. Soon as your eyes opened all that greeted you were fuzzy images till you were able to refocus your vision to find Leo rubbing his face against the valley of your breasts before looking up at you with a tired and lustful smile. Damn he made this night so worth it, even if it was doing out in public not even waiting for you two to get home to do in privacy, you thought you two should do this outside more often now. He made you feel so loved and alive right now, you almost forgot about the hellish weeks of being apart. Soon his thrusts came to a stop as he pulled out carefully, as some of the cum dripped out from you. He sat up bringing you up in his arms rubbing the soreness of your shoulders. You both embraced each other lovingly, this night could of shook the earth it was that powerful because of the love that both shared for each other, you stared at each other not blinking once not even caring if anyone saw you two in this state you were that much in the moment to notice. “I should misbehave more often…” You softly whispered stroking his cheek before letting your fingers trace his jawline“Don’t try me” He chuckled darkly giving your ass a spank making you flinch in surprise “Now hurry on home, I still have to get you booked” “Well I will be sure to give you my best mugshot” You bit your lip teasingly as he churred deeply where you could feel it vibrating against your beating heart and a deep intense stare be given to you. Instead of attacking, he gave you a deep passionate kiss before handing you his shirt and letting you get your pants on so you could drive home. “See you at home, captain”, You slapped his ass as you scurried away before he could catch you with a giggle. I guess you didn’t learn lesson on obeying the law, but no matter you were not going to get away with it that easily, not with your man in blue on the job. 

[sserpente]

24 little kinks | Doors 20, 21 🎄

“You remember that chocolate advent calendar I got you for December?”

“I do,” he chuckled and pressed a tender kiss to your temple. “You made me display it in the kitchen so I would not eat it all at once.”

Your smile widened. “How about we get another one?”

Loki raised an eyebrow, only now paying proper attention to the sex toy ad. Then, he frowned. It was an odd mixture of disgust, genuine curiosity and even a hint of arousal flashing in his blue eyes.

A/N: Christmas is approaching! ♥

Loki and you had agreed to celebrate on Christmas Eve already—to enjoy some alone-time together, with mulled wine, hot cocoa, biscuits and a lovely Christmas dinner before you would both join the Avengers at the compound on Christmas morning.

Now you were merely hoping that you would get to celebrate the holiday at all. It had started with a call from the local police, alerting Tony Stark for ‘alien activity’ at 42nd street station. You really wished you had a code for that. Any public disruption containing the word ‘alien’ usually caused a mass panic.

Loki took the call before you could reach your phone, reading Thor on your display. You had just put on those naughty panties with the little vibrator inside which he had pulled from yesterday’s door when his face suddenly fell.

“We are on our way.” He hung up without a word of goodbye.

“What happened?”

“Chitauri. They are as of right now raiding New York.” Fuck.

When you arrived downtown, the areas the police had named were on fire. Debris, broken cars and injured pedestrians scattered on the hard and cracked asphalt. Loki took a deep breath. It was like a flashback, like a distant memory which came crushing back into him with full force, like a blow in the face by Mjölnir.

You could feel his discomfort. Like heat, it was radiating off of him as he clenched his daggers. Suppressing your sudden trembling, you gave him a quick and reassuring nod. You would get through this.

-

The woman you saved was in a wheelchair, her eyes filled with pure terror. You slit the Chitauri’s throat before her eyes. It was anger that kept you going. Anger at these creatures for their involvement with Loki’s past actions. Anger at what he had had to endure with Thanos and anger at the destruction they caused.

FRIDAY had translated their somewhat cryptic language. They were ready to tear the whole city apart, kill every man, woman and child until the artefact was returned to them. They had learned from their attack on the compound—so they took innocent lives instead.

You blinked away the tears forming in your eyes when you spotted the huge Christmas tree in the middle of a roundabout falling, ripping with it a power line which caused hot sparks to fly. It dropped on a car whose driver had been unable to duck fast enough.

It was almost Christmas, for Christ’s sake. You were going to kill them, each and every one of them.

“We’ll have a cup of mulled wine when this is over, right?” You heard Tony’s voice over the earpiece you were wearing, making you roll your eyes. You admired his optimism, for all you could see right now was death and violence.

Your gaze flicked over to Loki, to see if he was alright. His elegance during battle kept impressing and fascinating you over and over again. Yet at the same time, as you watched his new vibranium daggers slice through the alien’s bodies, you felt incredible fear washing over you. The man you loved, at war…

A blow in the stomach made you gasp for air desperately. You dropped one of your daggers in an attempt to strike at the Chitauri bashing at you from the left. You flew through the air, the impact of its force knocking all air from your body as you were thrown against a fire hydrant. It broke instantly, flooding the street with water and wetting your clothes to the bones. The sudden and brief electricity shock between your legs you ignored.

Your hair stuck to your skin when you stood with shaky legs, checking if you had any broken bones. With all the adrenaline cursing through your veins, you felt not a single sting of pain. Hopefully, this would not cost you a limb later.

You moaned when the Chitauri who had caught you off guard started at you once more, this time trying a frontal attack. You narrowed your eyes at him, ducking its strikes with but a few skilled movements. When you buried your dagger in its calf, it howled, dropping on its knees for you to slice its neck. You will pay for causing this much pain and fear so shortly before Christmas…

Turning around, you dragged your wet form back to Loki. It wasn’t all water. You were bleeding. But it was fine, you were fine. Your eyes met, Loki’s lips slightly parting. You raised your arm, meaning to help him when behind him, another Chitauri approached. They were circling him, one by one—it was clear they recognised him, remembered what he had and had not done all those years ago.

One of them you hit in the head when you threw one of your daggers, watching its dead body drop to the ground in a satisfied manner but you were not fast enough for the second one. Loki had just killed the alien before him and took a deep breath to cast illusions of himself to distract his opponents when the Chitauri behind him already bored its sharp weapon into his lower back from behind.

You screaming his name was the last thing he heard before he lost consciousness.

-

“(Y/N), can I speak with you for a second?”

Steve was holding his shield so tightly his knuckles turned white. With a worried expression on his face, he nodded at an empty corner on the helicarrier. Only reluctantly did you leave Loki’s side. Thor had helped carrying his unconscious body on board after the remaining Chitauri had been eliminated. Only a few escaped—a handful which would not be able to cause any more harm anytime soon.

The police was alerted, arrangements were made, people were brought to the hospital. All you cared about, however, was Loki. You held his hand with trembling fingers, looking for a sign of consciousness on his beautiful face. Thus far, nothing. There was so much blood on his armour…

“The others and I,” Steve began right away, “we think that maybe you should take a break from your duties as an Avenger.” He phrased it like you were a soldier in a military camp.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that… Loki has strong… feelings for you.”

“And for reasons we do not quite understand,” Tony interrupted, “You have strong feelings for him too.” You rolled your eyes.

“What we’re trying to say is that out there, on the battlefield, on a mission, whatever you want to call it, you’re a threat for one another.”

“What are you talking about? Loki would give his life for me and I would give mine for his! I know what you think about him, Tony, I know you all hate him but even if you don’t want to see it, Loki is a good man, he has a good heart! It would be a Christmas miracle if you guys finally saw that.”

“That’s not my point. You’re constantly worried for each other. Reindeer Games is… possessive over you, he’s like an alpha animal protecting its omega.”

Steve nodded. “His worry for you during a mission could sooner or later cost him his life—or yours.”

Your face fell. You had never seen it like that. It was true—during a fight, Loki and you always looked out for another. You had seen his concerned look before he got stabbed and dropped to the ground like a broken marionette.

FRIDAY had already run a quick test and examined his body as soon as you boarded. The wound was not fatal and hadn’t hit any vital organs but it was deep and severe enough for him to lose consciousness. He would heal again, sooner than later. But that also meant that he was to take it easy for the next few days. You’d make sure he would.

You insisted they dropped you both off at your flat. Thor helped you lay Loki into your bed, then disappeared after a quick goodbye hug. While you wetted a wash cloth and cleaned his face from any dirt and blood, Steve’s words came to your mind again. You’re a threat to one another on the battlefield… was it really true? Was it possibly you could cause harm to each other when you were only trying to protect what you loved?

You swallowed thickly; and it was then Loki opened his eyes and coughed. Reacting quickly, you brought a glass of water to his lips. He swallowed the cool liquid eagerly.

“Thank you,” he choked out.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I have been stabbed, my sweet. How are you?”

“You’re asking me? I’ve been wearing vibrating panties during a mission.”

“I forgot you were still wearing those.” He stated bluntly, an exhausted and weak smirk tugging at his lips. You let out a relieved sigh. If he was able to be amused by this predicament of yours, his wound could not be that bad.

“The battery died after I got hurled against a fire hydrant.”

And you were still soaking wet. Loki gave you a reproachful look.

“I’m okay, just a few bruises. It’s you we need to take care of. Can you magic off your clothes for me? So I can clean you up.”

He nodded. It took him some effort to use his seidr in this condition but he managed. As soon as he was pretty much stark naked and for just a split second, you admired his godly body, you went to work and gently wiped his skin clean off all the blood.

“What happened? Did they kill the other Chitauri?”

You nodded. “A few are still on the loose. They won’t get very far, as far as I’m concerned, Tony is using FRIDAY right now to track them down. Do you need more water?”

“No. I need you. Lie with me.”

Smiling, you obliged, careful not to come in contact with his wound. Now that it was cleaned, it did not at all look so bad—he was already healing. As soon as you had removed your wet clothes and simply dropped them to your bedroom floor, you lied down next to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“We forgot today.” He suddenly said.

“What?”

“We forgot to open our calendar.”

“Oh, no we didn’t. I checked this morning.”

“So what was in it?”

“A penis pump.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t make me explain it to you, not now.” You giggled gently. “But I think you will like what it does to you.”

Loki smiled, his blue eyes already falling shut again as you tenderly stroked his raven hair.

“I am sure of that.”

-

A/N: Nothing really naughty happened today, I know. But it’ll make the last days before Christmas even sweeter, I promise. ;-)

Door 22 will be opened on Sunday, December 22nd.

Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! Also, if you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente

[zidian-enthusiast]

Character study: Nie Huaisang

I wrote this a few weeks ago and I didn’t share it here, I’d rather show it before Fatal Journey premieres. Imagery based on CQL’s first episode.

Liquor pours into the small cup. Beyond the closed curtains, in a hall buzzing with activity, an old man tells a story to a young and quite easy to impress audience.

Nie Huaisang takes the cup he just filled and, as if he was drinking to honor someone, he raises it to the empty seat across his own. He downs the wine and its taste is surprisingly bitter. Fond of refined sweet flavors, he finds it mediocre at best. Too disgustingly similar to the metallic taste of blood, in fact, to dare take another sip. 

“Well,” he mutters, smirking. “Isn’t it ironic? Adequate, even.”

No one answers because no one is there, but if there was, he suspects the answer could be a smack that would make him taste blood in his mouth for real. Or, rather, a deafening roar first, one that would make everyone around cower in fear.

“Honorless! Coward! Is this what the QingheNie sect comes to be in your hands? A swindler’s den, backstabbing, plotting in the shadows? Is this what’s left of my teachings?!”

He can almost see him, red in the face, veins popping in his temples, sitting across the table with the poise of the ruler of heaven and hell. He can almost hear him, shattering his eardrums with his furious, hurtful words. 

But in reality, he is not here anymore, is he? And the thing is, Huaisang will never forgive those responsible for that.

“… a man whose deeds are so cruel, it makes this old man’s skin crawl, I’m telling you!” says the voice of the storyteller opening his tale, and Huaisang’s lips curve again, this time into a cold grin.

If the unfair story the man’s telling taught him anything, it’s that cruelty comes in many forms. From the powerful oppressing the weak, and from the wronged weak seeking revenge. Cruelty naturally gives birth to more cruelty, in an endless cycle of pain. But also, cruelty can be born from something as pure as love, too.

He knew that already. After all, Nie Mingjue loved him, and yet, he was incredibly cruel to him.

His brother, who only knew the way of the blade, was devoted to it with a passion that could probably impress even their most strict ancestors. He owed them nothing– if anything, they had to thank them for dooming them to inherit the gruesome fate of this cursed line of cultivators, all dead by qi deviations– but still, Mingjue carried the weight of the entire sect and the risky path of their clan’s cultivation with utmost dedication until the end. 

A man like him would hardly find any appeal on subtle arts like literature, painting or music. Of course, to a man like him, a brother inclined towards those things was an utter disappointment.

“Playing all day with those useless brushes instead of training with your sword! How much longer will it take you to develop your golden core? You are behind your peers for at least four years! I will not stand for you making the Nie clan into the laughing stock of the entire cultivation world!”

And yet, it was Mingjue himself who provided him with the means to play around. It was just the two of them since the beginning, and Huaisang’s fragile life was entirely in his hands– still, even against his own harsh words that more often than not brought tears to his little brother’s eyes, he never denied him any of his whims. For every object he broke and every slap he gave him, he’d always find a way to compensate him later, be it with gifts he’d deny ever giving to him, or any superficial entertainment he’d judge to his little brother’s taste.

Now, none of these actions were any less cruel in Huaisang’s eyes. The act of awkwardly rubbing the wounds he inflicted didn’t make him feel any less frustrated or scared. Simply, at some point, he got resigned to the fact that his brother really didn’t know any better. And as time went by, he also understood it had to be the same for Nie Mingjue; both wanted something from their brother that the other couldn’t provide, and yet… At the end of the day, they still were the only family the other had. 

And, regardless of anything, Nie Huaisang knew, from the bottom of his heart, that his brother would die for him without hesitation if needed– after a good fight, that is. Huaisang liked to think he’d do the same. He wasn’t that confident in his own guts but yes, indeed, he would at least have the intention. 

He never thought it possible, but he had the chance to confirm it. That day, when his heart tore apart as his feet propelled him forward without hearing reason, having to be forcefully restrained by treacherous arms that kept him away from Nie Mingjue as his qi deviation turned him into a formless, bloody mess. 

What hurt the most was that, no matter what, the great Chifeng-Zun, the rightful Nie Mingjue, his dear, only brother didn’t deserve that. Righteous, honest Nie Mingjue deserved a dignified end. 

Nie Huaisang cried, and mourned, and searched, and despaired, and then… he decided.

He could never, ever rule their sect like his brother, so he wouldn’t even try to. After all, all that hard work led him to the same miserable end their ancestors met, why would he follow that? Why try to be a pathetic imitation under the long shadow his brother left? Why stay in the rightful path, offering his back to the same surreptitious knife that stabbed him in cold blood? 

If his love of literature and human understanding in general left him something that the blade certainly couldn’t provide, it was a good eye for deceit. And oh, there was so much of it in this whole image. The mastermind? An artist. His hand, relentless yet soft, made itself the god that decided the fate of so many people. Nie Huaisang could never stand when good art was underappreciated. He was a generous patron of the arts– how could he not give the artist all the credit he deserves?

“…and so, who could say for sure that the Yiling Patriarch… will never walk among us again?”

As if to give the storyteller the perfect climax for his tale, a strong wind makes the curtains of the shop flutter and the crowd gasps audibly.  It ended in such a terrifying note, but luckily, it was just that: a tale! 

Nie Huaisang, however, chuckles softly. After reconsidering, he takes the wine bottle and pours himself another cup. Once again, he raises it to no one.

“I know you won’t enjoy it, but your own story of revenge is about to unfold. Please forgive your younger brother… You know he could never resist a well-written tragedy,” he says in a low voice that gets lost in the crowd’s noise. He drinks, then scrunches his nose. It still tastes like swill, but he downs it in just one gulp, and then stands up.

That disgusting taste like blood would last just a fleeting moment. In fact, by the time he tosses the gold piece to the storyteller and leisurely walks down the street, fanning himself, it’s almost gone. 

The sensation of having his hands sullied by blood, though, will last longer, but he is fine with it. The pieces have been carefully set into motion. He stares into his fan, one of his favorites. He painted it himself long ago. He smiles at it.

He’s a bit rusty, but he is actually a pretty good painter. In fact, he’s sure he can be even better than the other master who provided the right inspiration. Inspiration, just like cruelty, comes in many forms. 

Nothing says he can’t shape it into a beautiful masterpiece, painted with sorrow and love.

[mojofun]

Where My Heart Lies (Loki x OC) - Chapter 3

While he is wreaking havoc, Loki runs into a woman that catches his eye, so he takes her with him. She doesn’t seem to mind at all. Will he let her see the darkest side of him though?

Hello :)

This is the third chapter of the story. Hope you guys enjoy

I’m tagging @mrsbellablythe​ and @queenofchaos7​ :)

Gif not mine, credits to @reinamorena26​

Loki was lost in his thoughts, walking toward the room reserved for Hayley. Well, stumbling, to be more precise.

He hadn’t been himself for weeks, and he could see it every time he caught a glimpse of his reflection; he felt it in his mind, in his emotions, in everything he was… Or no longer was.

He barely managed to keep up his usual facade of detachedness and teasing, his last resort to push away unwanted attention.

Hayley.

Truth be told, her affection fell in the exact opposite category, but what made him classify it as unwanted was the incredibly strong effect it had on him. His resolve was growing weaker day by day, and it was also thanks to the breathtaking brunette that he had not surrendered just yet.

The nights he spent with her were his escape, the sole moment he had to enjoy being himself, without having to hide that he actually had feelings.

Unfortunately, even that was about to change

“If you do not obey we will take that sweet, precious girl of yours. I’m sure the master will enjoy spending some time with her…”

The Other’s words rang ominously in his ears, making him walk faster and faster toward what had become his second bedroom. If only Hayley saw the one he actually slept in, she’d understand… And he couldn’t let her.

Especially after what the revolting creature had said; sure, there had not been any specific threat, but he would have preferred that, to be honest.

It was so vague, yet terrifying. Hearing it on repeat inside his mind, so faraway like a shout in space and yet so close, looming over their heads…

Her head. He was terrified.

The demigod feared both for her safety and for his heart, if what he had in his chest could still be described as such; Hayley always said -used to, at least: he no longer spent enough time with her as of late to enjoy a proper conversation- he had a heart of gold under his crusty exterior, but he never believed it…

As if to prove him wrong, the withered shred in his chest that once was a muscle began beating again, just for her. It began to beat for the amazing smiles she gave him, for the intensity in her chocolate eyes as she held his gaze, for the warmth he felt whenever he was next to her…

For the feeling of being loved for who he was, something that he had been denied for so long.

Now… Now he’d have to make her hate someone that wasn’t him.

He had to make her hate him, so she would leave.

Truth be told he was surprised she hadn’t already, given how badly he treated her. At first it had been heavenly, finally feeling something again, and something that was not pain. Then…

As time went by, it all spoiled; it began to hurt, badly.

The growing awareness of what he felt for her.

The rising fear for her safety.

The spiralling pain that she felt, and how it took him less and less effort to perceive it; it simply radiated from her.

He felt like a monster for putting her in danger, for making her suffer so much, and he wanted to kick himself for it all, for falling for her in the first place.

He thought back to the day he first met her and cursed himself for being so stupid; he should have never taken her with him. It was supposed to be a little fun, only that.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. He felt even more selfish for that, but Hayley was the best thing that happened to him in a long time; one of the best things that ever happened to him in his entire life, he’d bet.

He knew that, without Hayley, everything would be a thousand times worse, but he couldn’t bring himself to take advantage of her- not more than he already was, his subconscious reprimanded.

The thought of blaming her, of being angry because he could no longer think only of himself did not even cross his mind.

Who was his master, the Other or his love for Hayley? Yes, his feelings were beginning to be more of a torture than something to sustain him through the pain.

The trickster gritted his teeth, adjusting his hair to the best of his abilities. The sight of her door made his stomach flinch, and only a titanic effort saved him from retreat. He could have sworn he heard a voice in his ears, saying something about how she must mean much to him, if he was willing to put her needs before his.

A shudder ran down his spine; it wasn’t a voice but rather his own thoughts, that sounded more and more like the Other’s hissing each passing day.

No, he decided; what he felt for the feisty brunette was the only remaining beacon of light in his existence, and he had to protect it. Holding on to that conviction, the black-haired deity stepped inside the room without even knocking, taking on the coldest and most forbidding mask he could.

It proved to be a difficult task : the sight of the woman lying on his bed in a silver robe, snuggled against his pillow while she read a book almost did him in.

He harrumphed, effectively distracting her from the scribbles

<<Loki>> She called unenthusiastically, unawarely delivering a fatal blow to his already weak resistance. It was working: they were drifting apart.

Was it good or bad?

Not selfishness, but his anguish clung to the spunky female in desperation. Luckily, he was able to use that as a push in the right direction

<<Are you surprised to see me?>>

<<As a matter of fact I am>> She sighed, slamming the tome closed with a dull thud <<This visit is out of the normal schedule>>

<<You should no better than to question me>>

<<I stopped trying to understand a long time ago>> She shrugged.

He did not know how much of a lie that was, so the hurt he felt was real. Years of experience helped him turn it into anger.

With a grunt he stepped closer to her, yanking her against his chest before he slammed his lips against her. The woman basically melted in his embrace.

It made him think that maybe, just maybe, she liked him too.

That would be a huge problem.

But no, wait, his brain pointed out: if she felt for him even a fraction of what he felt for her, she would be fighting more.

More anger.

Yet, he did not manage to hate her. Not for making him love her nor for making him doubt everything he was.

He needed her, and the thought that he had to let her go tore him apart.

But he’d never let her know that.

He had one last time to enjoy her company, to try to make her understand what she was for him without actually telling her out loud. The rational part of him hoped she would not understand, never, but his heart screamed for her to help him, prayed that she would see right through his facade and help the soul that was withering inside. She did, a little, with her affection, but he needed more than that.

And he was forsaking any chance he had to ever obtain it.

_________________________________________________________

It happened a few hours later, when Hayley woke up a little too early for him to be gone. He could have used his powers, but weakness was taking over him and he chose not to.

Thus, the beautiful brunette caught him exactly when he was about to finish getting dressed; her reaction was everything he hoped for and nothing that he needed

<<So this is it, then>> She groused, glaring at him in the mirror he was looking himself into <<I do not even have the dignity of a whore>>

<<You have bed and board; what do you want more?>>

<<Things you do not understand, apparently>> The woman hissed, reaching for her robe and swiftly wrapping it around herself <<I won’t even try to make you>>

<<That’s surprisingly wise of you>>

<<Unlike anything else I’ve been doing lately>>

<<I’ll have you know I’ve been often called wise, and clever>>

<<Sneaky and mischievous more likely>> She hissed again

I wish you’d see who I really am

<<I am the god of mischief, after all>>

<<Yes, the god of lies. Apparently one of the tasks that come with this title is to make innocent people believe in absurdities>>

<<Oh, I wouldn’t call you innocent, darling>>

Hayley grinned sardonically, snorting uncouthly

<<You’re right, I’m not>>

<<And it’s exactly because of me>> The demigod mocked her.

She grew angry

<<You’re right again. You took everything from me: my innocence, my life, my h->> She suddenly trailed off, and he froze.

Was she about to say heart? Do I want her to say heart?

No. I could not let her go if she loved me

<<My home>> She finished and he sighed in relief, but the nagging voice inside his mind told him it was not what she really meant.

He chose to ignore it as best as he could

<<You can leave, if you don’t want to be here>>

The atmosphere stilled suddenly.

Hayley was frozen, trying to find another meaning to the harsh words he’d just uttered.

Loki felt the deep pangs of guilt, but he couldn’t tell her the truth. He asked himself why she couldn’t see through his lies, and he was reminded that she was, after all, a human, with no magical power.

It was ironic, terribly so, how being a frail human being brought her safety, while his supernatural nature signified his death, yet there they were

<<You brought me here>>

<<I have no need for you that I can’t satisfy with someone else>> Another huge lie that sounded so terribly convincing falling from his lips <<You are nothing more than a concubine, easily replaced>>

I didn’t know my powers included feeling true pain

Apparently they did, because as soon as he’d hissed those false insults a wave of agony washed over him; was it his or hers? He did not know anymore

Please, make her hate me. I won’t be able to let he go if there is even a small chance that she may feel something other than hatred for me

His plan seemed to be working. The glare in Hayley’s eyes grew more threatening than he’d ever expected from her, far more intimidating that he would have given her credit for

<<Fine. Since I’m so unwanted here, I will leave>>

<<I won’t be taking you back, darling>>

No, he wouldn’t. Not just because he couldn’t -given his “pact” with the Other and so on, but also because a small part of him was still calling out to her.

The brunette shrugged, glaring at him fiercely. The determination that oozed from her was impressive

<<I do not need you, I never have>>

He snorted

<<I’m looking forward to see how you’ll be able to escape>>

_________________________________________________________

He hadn’t meant to make it sound like a challenge, but she apparently took it as such. During one of the experiments he and his soldiers, so to say, were conducting with the Tesseract to create a portal to the Earth, she somehow snuck up on them and ran through the passage before anyone could stop her, fighting off a few guards in the process.

Loki silently cried out in relief: she was free; she would be safe.

His heart, instead, cried out in pain

She’ll never want to speak to me, to be close to me… I’ll never see her again

[supergirlfics]

Batwoman

A/N: Welp, like I said, trash for Kate Kane. There will probably be more of this and hopefully I got the voices and character at least sorta right. With only half a season, not much to go on, but I think it’s okay. Enjoy!

Okay, I realized the perspective changed several times throughout the fic, so I’v got that fixed. It is now at least 99% second person. 

“Well, aren't you just the most adorable little thing,” The woman grinned impishly. “We can have so much fun with you.”

You gulped. You didn’t know what she meant by “fun” but you knew you didn’t like it. Her smile sent chills down your spine. She gripped your chin in a surprisingly hard grip, her face only an inch from yours. 

“You just have the most beautiful face. It will work well.”

“W-what do you want?” You asked.

The woman stepped back, white hair bouncing as she did. “I just said, didn’t I? I want your face.”

“Just . . . just let me go. Please,” You begged.

“What? You don’t want to play with dear Alice? I must say, I’m horribly disappointed. And for the insubordination, you will have to pay a price. I can’t do anything to harm that pretty little face, but the rest of you, well . . .” 

Before you could register what was happening, a knife plunged into you shoulder. A scream echoed from your lungs as you felt it twist inside you before Alice slowly dragged it out. Blood poured from the wound, tears stained your cheeks. Your breath came out in heavy wheezes as pain continued to shoot through you in shockwaves. 

“Now, would you like to play?”

You didn’t answer, only stared at the blood seeping down your shirt and onto the ropes that fastened you to your seat. 

“I asked you a question,” Alice growled. “When I ask, you answer.”

“N-no . . . please don’t hurt me.”

Alice cocked her head to the side. “I see. My dear girl, I won’t hurt you. I’ll only make you suffer. It’s you who decides whether it hurts.”

The cold metal of spiked brass knuckles pounded into your stomach as Alice rammed into it with her fist. She was smiling. Enjoying the sound of your screams as the punched you repeatedly. When she finally stopped, you head hung limply. You were soaked in blood. Every inch of your body shook in agony.

And that’s when somebody else entered the room. He was a scraggly looking young man, with long hair and a thin figure. You didn’t know why, but just seeing him sent a chill down your spine. He carried an heir of unease.

“That’s my face?”

“Yes, Mouse, that’s your new face. Do you like it?”

“It’s a girl.”

“We do what is necessary, Mouse. Remember, you needed a woman’s face. It will fit you just fine. Do you like it?” There was malice in her voice the second time she asked that question. 

“Yes, Alice. I like it. It’s a good face. It will be useful.”

“Useful for what?” You squeaked.

Alice knelt down in front of you and caressed my cheek with one gloved hand. You tried to draw away, but it only caused you to gasp in pain. “Useful for Mouse. Nobody wants to see his face, but if we place yours on him, the world will never know the difference. There are oh so many things he can do with this face.”

Alice’s words sent a shiver down my spine. I squeezed my eyes shut as she ran her hands over my face as if studying it. Feeling every bump and curve. 

“Oh my . . . you’re very warm. You may be striking a fever. No doubt from those awful wounds. But don’t worry, my pet, I’ll bandage you up.”

“Leave me alone,” You whispered. You couldn’t keep the fear from your voice.

“No can do. But don’t be nervous. I’m very good with a bandage.” 

The cleanliness of the bandages she used was questionable. In a place like this, no matter how many times something had been sanitized, you still couldn’t be certain it was clean. 

They moved you to a bed, and though you tried to fight and protest, you were too weak. It only caused more pain and more blood. You were lightheaded, dizzy. And you could only stare as they tied you to the bed posts. 

“What a good girl, finally listening. You stopped fighting. It’s a shame you won’t be alive much longer. I have grown rather fond of you.”

“Please don’t kill me,” You squeaked.

“My dear girl. If only it were in the cards.” She grabbed a wad of gauze and pressed it to the wound in your shoulder. You cried out in pain and Alice tisked. “Not very strong, are we? Can’t handle a little pain?” She pressed harder.

“Stop,” You gasped.

“I’m sorry, but I thought you wanted to live a while longer. Besides, the flesh is better when fresh. However, I do not wish to hear your screams. Mouse, gag her.”

A dirty cloth was shoved in your mouth and tied behind the back of your head. It tasted horrible and made it difficult to breathe. You struggled against it, but Mouse was much stronger. It wasn’t much of a fight. 

She smiled sweetly at you as she fastened the gauze the your skin. It was a sickly sight - how could one so terrible feel so good about what they were doing? It was as if your pain gave her great pleasure. She moved to the wounds on your stomach, which somehow hurt even more. You were certain that, in this filthy place, they had already become infected. 

Your flesh wouldn’t be too great after that. 

Tears streamed down your cheeks.

Alice wiped them away with a knuckle, a little too gently. “Don’t cry. You’ll stain your cheeks.”

~~~~

“We’ve got reports of a kidnapping,” Sophie said. “Young woman, early twenties. Her name is (Y/N). Discovered missing after she failed to show up for work for several days, a coworker went to see if she was okay. There are signs of a struggle, blood on the floor. We don’t have long if we want to find this girl alive.”

“Where was she taken from?” Kate asked, stepping toward the screen.

“The Orchard apartment complex.”

“That’s near the morgue. Have there been any other abductions?”

Sophie shook her head. “Not from what we’ve seen, though we will be keeping an eye out.”

Kate nodded, eyes still not leaving the screen. “Show me the crime scene photos?”

Sophie simply nodded and did as she was asked. 

Kate silently studied them. It showed an apartment that looked as if it was usually very clean, however, chairs were thrown aside, dishes broken, a vase lay in pieces on the floor. “What floor?”

“Fifth,” Sophie said.

“Are there any security cameras nearby?”

Jacob stepped forward with another image. “Only this one, about a block away. The street is busy, making it nearly impossible to identify the escape vehicle.”

“Play it,” Kate said. She was looking for something, though nobody was quite sure what she was searching for. Again, she studied it silently for several minutes before raising a hand. “There. That’s the vehicle.”

Jacob paused the video. “How do you know?”

“It belongs to Beth.”

The crows all exchanged a look. “We need to go,” Sophie said.

Kate was already gone. She ran back to Wayne Enterprises, trying to ignore Luke as he bombarded her with questions.

“Whoa, you came in a hurry, what’s going on? Is it Alice? Did she do something?”

“Can you shut up?”

“That’s incredibly rude. Okay, but I’ve been working on a new piece of tech and -”

Kate shoved him out of the elevator just before the doors closed. “Not the time, Luke.”

It wasn’t long before she had donned the suit, equipping herself with everything she might need, and rushed off. 

~~~~

“N-no . . . No,” You cried as Alice pulled out a small knife. 

“Oh hush,” Alice snapped. “Your pathetic whimpering is starting to get on my nerves. Obviously, the gag didn’t work, but I’ll make sure you can’t talk anymore. I may need your face, but your tongue is free to dispose of.”

Your mouth was forced open and a cold metal clamp bit down on your tongue. Something pierced painfully through it, so no matter how you struggled, you couldn’t draw your tongue away from the clamp. Though you tried to scream and tear away, you couldn’t. Mouse held your head steady as Alice brought the knife to your tongue. 

You had never been more afraid. Had never cried so hard. You had gone through a lot in your short life, but this was by far the worst. And you were powerless.

“Beth!” The voice drew away Alice’s attention from me. “Let her go.”

“No can do, sis. I was just about to cut out her tongue. Care to watch?”

Through my tears, you were able to see the woman standing on the other end of the room. She wore an all black suit and had long, dyed red hair. She looked almost like Batman. 

“Touch her and you’ll regret it,” the woman growled. “Beth, this is not okay.’

Beth moved the knife from my tongue and ran the side of it along my face, stopping to press the tip against the side of my neck. “Her face is just what we need. And nobody will miss her. She’s alone. Uncared for. No family . . . No friends. The perfect victim.”

The woman slowly stepped closer, raising a gun. “Let her go or I will kill him.” 

The gun wasn’t pointed at Alice as you’d expected, but rather, at Mouse. 

“You wouldn’t.”

“You really think so? You’re the one that means something to me, not him. He’s the one who took you and turned you into this. It would be easy.”

Blood dripped from your neck where the knife cut into your skin.

“You’re not a killer, dear sister.”

The gun went off. You jumped, eyes squeezed shut. There was a gasp and you felt the pressure release from your neck as Alice dropped her instruments. When you opened your eyes, you saw the Bat . . . woman, with an incredulous expression as she looked around.

A second woman rushed in a moment later, followed by several people in Crows Security uniforms. 

You could hear screams behind you, no doubt from Mouse, as you could also hear Alice speaking to him. “Mouse . . . You shot him!”

“That’s right,” the second woman said. “Don’t worry, it’s not fatal. Arrest them.”

Alice threw something. You saw it zip past you and the moment it hit the ground, the room was covered in a thick fog. You coughed as the smoke filled your lungs. It stung your eyes and made you feel dizzy. 

Through the fog, you could see the bat woman approach you. “I got you.” The clamp was removed from your tongue and the bindings from your wrists and ankles. She lifted you into her strong arms, holding you close as she walked from the building. The second woman was close behind.

“Hey, Batwoman, you can’t take her.”

“She needs help, Sophie. You do your job, I’ll do mine. I’m taking her to the hospital. Catch Alice.”

Sophie didn’t say another word, just allowed Batwoman to carry you away. 

[wintersrcse]

✦ ▓ AND WHO GOES THERE? oh, it’s just [ LYANNA STARK ]. some say [ HER ] resemblance to [ MAGGIE Q ] is almost uncanny, but the [ FIFTY ] year old has been in the capital for [ 3 MONTHS ]. many suspect that they are the notorious [ BRIGADIER ] of the [ STARK ] family: perhaps that has made them [ IMPULSIVE ] && [ OBSTINATE ] of late, when they used to be so [ STRONG WILLED ] && [ FORTHRIGHT ]. during the daylight hours, [ LYANNA ] can be found working as a [ REPATRIATION RESEARCH SPECIALIST ], but when night falls over king’s landing, they are best remembered listening to [ ALL MY DEMONS BY AURORA ]. may the gods be with them in these dark streets.

THE ORIGINAL MAFIA PRINCESS ; 

Lyanna was raised equal to her brothers in a time when people would not consider a daughter to be so.  Her confidence, her sureness, her wild nature were all seen as things ladies should not have.  But the Starks always knew their women were their strength, not their weakness.  

Her young days were spent running alongside Brandon, Eddard and Benjen, their fourth musketeer, twigs and leaves in her hair as they played cops and robbers.  Rickard and Lyarra Stark had long learned to leave well enough alone, and never tried to temper their daughter’s fire, her unrestrained want for life and all it’s experiences.

Perhaps mollifying their daughter’s need to act on any deep feeling would’ve saved a lot of people a lot of trouble down the line, but at the time, the idea of telling their only little girl to stop acting on her emotions was not something they wanted to do.  

But as a child, her deep feeling of the world around her; of it’s beauties, it’s injustices, it’s love, served to make her an empathetic, courageous, and one to always stand up for her beliefs.  If a kid was being bullied unfairly on the playground, she’d later be found missing next day’s recess due to her throwing of rocks at the perpetrators.    Growing up the only sister with three brothers left her with a strong arm and sharp tongue, something she’d use without restraint.

At a young age she also recognized the power of her family’s name, and always tried to use it for good.  She would use her sway to frighten people who needed frightening, she’d use it to make things right when she could.  She was never oblivious to her family’s dark dealings, nor did she ever disapprove of it, but she would try and use the Stark name for positive change when she had the chance.

Alongside her brothers, when she hit the tender age of 16, their parents officially began to let them in on the family business, although their entire lives had been filled with different lessons and trainings, both mental and physical.  While they had always been aware of the going-ons, suddenly the four children were being asked their opinions, being asked what they would do in a situation.  In the beginning, most times their answers ended with Rickard telling them exactly why that was not the correct answer.  But eventually, gentle lectures turned into proud smiles as Rickard’s children learned.  And at one point, without the children knowing, situations posed at nightly dinners were no longer in the past or fictitious and were current dealings, and their words had weight and were considered.  

So to say Lyanna was raised for this life would be correct.  Never did she think she would ever willingly give it away.  But that was because she hadn’t met Rhaegar yet.  She had known of him, of course, the Targaryens being a well known family to say the least.  But it wasn’t until they met at some glad-handing event, did she truly understand what all the fuss was about.  And it seemed as if he felt the same way.  And the rest, as they say, was history.

Lyanna will never excuse her actions during this time, she can’t justify them, because she cannot say they were right or reasonable.  In fact, they were wrong and unreasonable.  But her fatal flaw was her deep feeling heart, and she could see nothing else but what it wanted.  She could not see the fiancé and boyfriend they respectively left at home on their nights spent together. All she could see was her love for Rhaegar.  And at 20, when you think someone is your one true love, you’d be willing to burn down your entire world for them.

And they did try, oh they did.  Jon was their match.  They hoped the birth of a child would lead their families to allow them to break their entanglements to Elia and Robert respectively.  Create an allyship between Stark and Targaryen.  But they soon found out that Lyanna could bear no children genetically her own.  So the two young lovers sought out a discreet pregnancy via in-vitro.  While biologically Lyanna is not Jon’s mother, she did carry and give birth to them.  The couple’s egg donor looked remarkably like Lyanna, making it so Jon believably could be the result of their time spent together.  To this day, no one knows that Jon was not simple the result of neglect and or failure of birth control after nights spent together.

When Jon was born Lyanna was only 21, a fact that many people seem to forget in their attempt to vilify the other woman that Lyanna had become.  What they had done, what she had done, was not right, but people also fail to understand that she was young, dumb and in love, could see nothing else due to the brightness of their relationship.  She couldn’t see the harm they would cause if their planned failed, or succeeded.

THE BEGINNING OF THE END ;

But it did fail.  Aegon refused to let the allyship to the Martell’s be broken by his son’s misplaced love, and Lyarra and Rickard finally put their foot down, telling Lyanna just because she felt something, even if she wanted something with all her heart, didn’t mean she could have it.  This left Lyanna in a relationship (soon to turn into an engagement) that she did not want.  Rhaegar was left to put Elia in the unfairest of positions by marrying her despite not holding the truest of loves for her.  And Jon was left a bastard.  Ned, always the honorable older brother had offered to take Jon in as his own, pass him off as his child, knowing that the world would look more kindly on his bastard than her own.

The first year, Lyanna raised Jon among her and her family, with Rhaegar coming to visit whenever he could.  But around their first birthday, things were rough.  Between the Starks shady dealings, whispers that the Martells had found out, and Rhaegar’s rising star, it became clear to Lyanna and Rhaegar that Jon was not safe in King’s Landing.  So they sent them upstate.  To this day, Lyanna attests that this was the hardest decision she ever had to make.  But she knew, that if they weren’t proactive about Jon’s safety, they could lose them forever, not just for their formative years.  As well as, deep down she knew, even if the secret of their parentage was kept, they’d never have a normal childhood, and it was something she vehemently wanted for them.

Rhaegar and Lyanna visited them in the little hideaway as often as they could, spending as long as they could manage.  Sometimes it was hours, sometimes days, and on a rare few occasions, weekends and weeks.  They saw their little child bloom into a normal child, so unlike the lives they themselves had led.  And looking back, Lyanna knew if she had the choice, she would let them continue to grow that way.  But life (or, the Lannisters) had other plans, and their secret, their family, their lives and Jon’s little hideaway was blown up by one leaked video.  She’s honestly not even sure where it came from, or how long the Lannisters had had it, but what she did know was it brought ruination.  

Afraid of reprisal, Jon was whisked away back to King’s landing, Lyanna and Rhaegar feeling much better with them among kin to protect them than a sweet but defenseless old lady out in the sticks.  Of course, that meant the end to their idyllic childhood, but it was a precaution that they had to take.  But the two made yet another hard decision, and in a way Lyanna finally took Ned up on his offer.  Afraid that their presence would not only lead to Jon being under constant scrutiny from the media as well as the other families but also be a danger to them as well, Rhaegar and Lyanna left them with her family, to grow up among his cousins, aunts and uncles.  

EXILE && RETURN ;

And then the two fled the city.  No one had ever been able to confirm if the two had gone their separate ways or had left together.  Most people were naysayers, accusing the two of falling into their adulterous ways due to lust, and no relationship based on that would survive the scandal.  But a few, perhaps the ones closest to them, had inklings of the idea that the two had left together.

And those people would have been right.  While sickened by the pain they caused to others in the wake of their dirty laundry coming to light, the two were also incredibly relieved, finally able to love each other as they had always wanted: freely and in the open.  Of course they continued the tradition of visits with Jon, only now they came to their parents, rather than the other way around.

It’s been almost 2 decades, 19 years exactly since they left, and it’s been almost 30 years that the two have been together.  In this time not only have they grown closer than ever, but each found out who they were without their families, without the pressures of King’s Landing and the ever present threat of death, scandal, and violence.  Lyanna went to school, she majored in anthropology, began to work for a museum and somehow found herself interested in and eventually working in the repatriation of antiquities.  To finally have one thing separate from all the chaos and madness of King’s Landing, something that was truly her own was a beautiful thing.  

And while they thrived away from the spotlight, the fact that they gave up their homes, their families, their jobs has to be recognized.  And it was silly to think of people that they would never return to take back what was theirs, even if that means only taking back friday family night dinners with extended family.  In Lyanna’s case, she knew it was time for her to return for her rightful seat at the table, to take the title that had been hers from the beginning: brigadier.  And Ned offered it freely.

Some may scoff at the idea of her taking the position, having been away for so long.  But many forget she had trained for the title for the first 20 years of her life, just as long as she had been away.  Of course, there would be an adjustment, learning new players in the game.  But Lyanna was always a quick study when it came to things of this nature, so anyone who has something to say about needs to either say it softly, or come at her with a big stick.

THOSE YOU’VE KNOWN ;

YOU HAVE BEEN HURT;  The people at the center of the controversy, close family members and those directly affected who have not moved on and firmly grip the past in their hands.  They have not forgotten nor have they forgiven.  Depending on who it is, Lyanna will either allow herself to be lashed by their tongues and fists, or will tell them to fuck off and move on.

YOU HAVE BEEN HEALED; The other people who have moved on, moved past, who realized holding onto old scandals from two decades past did no one any good.  They don’t have to be best friends, but Lyanna will be grateful to anyone who either realizes it’s none of their business, or even if it was, they’ve chosen to forgive and forget.

FRIENDS OF OLD; Friends that were regrettably left behind when Lyanna left King’s Landing.  They could be more than willing to pick up friendship where they left off, or perhaps they could be hurt and in need of an apology before even considering reviving their friendship.  [Would need to be Stark aligned, either in the syndicate itself or an ally of the Starks at the time of Lyanna’s departure]

I’M WITH YOU UNTIL THE END OF THE LINE;  The so called ride-or-die, probably the one person outside of immediate family that knew the truth, that knew of her whereabouts and stayed in touch all these years. She truly believes without this person’s unwavering support and friendship, Lyanna would not have made it through. [Would need to be Stark aligned, either in the syndicate itself or an ally of the Starks at the time of Lyanna’s departure]

COG IN THE MACHINE; This person has been Lyanna’s spy within the Stark syndicate for the past few years, simply letting her in on the inner workings of the family business while she’s been away.  Nothing more, nothing less, although coming back into the fold it’s nice to have an ally already in place.

WRENCH IN THE SYSTEM; Someone (or someones) who is not happy with Lyanna’s return to the Stark Syndicate.  Perhaps they thought they should take the position of Brigadier, or maybe they just don’t see how someone out of the loop for twenty years is up to the task.  Whatever the reason is, the two will probably be butting heads.  

A PLACE WHERE NOTHING WAS LOST, JUST REDISCOVERED; A simple connection of the two having some previous or new connection due to her working with museums!  Perhaps your muse is a board member (something many rich people do), or is a large donor, or works there themselves.

[jungcock]

fatal attraction⎜05 (m.)

→ pairing: reader x jungkook (feat. taehyung)

→ genre: serial killer au, smut, angst

→ word count: 8.5k

Your dangerous ex-boyfriend comes back to haunt you in more ways than one.

→ warnings: unprotected sex, defloration, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of death and murder, major character death

→ disclaimer: myself and this fic does NOT condone the act of killing or the romanticisation of those who kill. if themes of violence, killing and/or stalking are triggering to you, please do NOT read this fic. 

→ author’s note: this update would not have happened without @kookingtae credit for my sanity goes to her.

↳ series m.list | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | ongoing

Three years, eight months ago

Despite the fact you were on your way to losing your virginity, you were seemingly more nervous to visit the Jeon residence for the first time. Jungkook drove in silence, leaving you to your thoughts. It was late, almost 10 pm. Would his parents still be up? Would you finally be able to meet them? Or would Jungkook sneak you in through the backdoor? Your thoughts settled on the fact that meeting a guy's parents for the first time and then fucking him for the first time moments later wouldn't be an ideal or realistic situation. You were sure Jungkook would avoid it.

You couldn't help but think why you had chosen tonight to be the night. You hadn't planned it but you had been thinking about it for a while. Maybe, having a banana milkshake that night instead of your regular strawberry had you thinking differently in all sorts of ways. After your first date in that motel room months ago and a few subtle instances of him shrugging you off, you were almost too scared to make the first move. Your confidence was weak. You wanted to have sex and you knew he did too but his self-control was strong. You didn't know what was different for him now, especially to suddenly confess he would die and kill for you. Maybe, ultimately, he simply had had enough abstaining.

You knew Jungkook came from money but you never expected his family home to be the most lavish villa you had ever seen. He snuck you around the back as you had expected but it was the quickest route to his bedroom—which was downstairs and attached to a young man cave. He had held your hand the entire way, squeezing it for comfort. But surprisingly, you didn't need him to—you weren't nervous or scared. Maybe, you should have been.

His bedroom was not what you had imagined. It was tidy, close to spotless. Framed pictures and trophies decorated his walls and shelves. It was well lit, despite it essentially being a basement. It goes without saying you waltzed straight over to the pictures.

"You want candles or something?"

You had picked up a frame, it was a picture of Jungkook and Namjoon as toddlers—perched on their father's lap. His father was in a suit and aviators, holding a fat cigar between the fingers of the hand wrapped around Jungkook. Setting the picture down, you chuckled to yourself thinking about how much he looked like a mob boss.

"Sure," you answered him.

He nodded before disappearing into his ensuite. You picked up another picture of Jungkook, he was little older than he was in the first picture, this time—kissing his mother. He was the cutest kid you had ever seen. You had to hold in a squeal.

"I could only find one," Jungkook announced, walking back into the room. "But it's scented so I hope that makes up for it."

It was incredibly sweet he was trying to create a romantic atmosphere—it was always the thought that counted. You smiled softly and he smiled back. You watched while he reached into his back pocket to grab his zippo and lit the wick with ease. After setting the candle on top of his dresser, he stood there staring at the flame.

"What scent?" you asked, strolling closer.

"Vanilla."

You nodded. There was a silence. What now? He seemed to be content just standing where he was. Was he having second thoughts? You were suddenly nervous and it made your palms sweat. Were you supposed to just... pounce on him? Why could he never make things easy for you? You looked over your shoulder, back to the pictures you were admiring.

"You were an adorable kid," you grinned. "I'm almost mad you didn't show me pictures before."

He chuckled, finally turning to face you. "You do know that's the mother's job, right?"

"Yeah, if I ever meet her," you mumbled unintentionally. You didn't want an argument but the words just fell from your lips before you had a chance to stop them.

His shoulders slumped. "Princess—"

"It seems like you have a really special relationship with her. I can tell by the pictures... it's lovely," you interrupted him.

"I'd rather not talk about my mom when I'm about to fuck my girlfriend."

Your eyes bulged. "Right, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he sniggered, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you closer. He looked deep into your eyes, your pupils, your soul. "Have you done this before?"

"Yes," you lied shakily and you don't know why you did.

He raised an eyebrow at you. You had to avoid eye contact—anything for him not to see how fucking nervous you had become. He lifted your chin to look at him, denying you to hide.

"Ok," he replied sympathetically, knowingly. It was as if he heard your answer as no—as if he knew your answer should have been no.

When he kissed you, your nerves melted away. It was tender and slow and it felt like he was kissing you for the first time—the butterflies in the pit of your stomach made you feel like you were kissing him for the first time. In a waltz, he led you back towards the bed until your calves hit the end of it. Although, he didn't push you down as you had expected. He kept kissing you, passionately, running his hands all over your body but always returning to grip your neck. At one point you moaned into his mouth and he growled back at you. You didn't know if it was a virgin thing, or if it was just him, but you were already feeling wetness pool in your panties.

Lust and excitement took over and you tugged at his shirt—a silent plea for him to take it off. He obeyed and as he did so, so did you. His eyes roamed over your body in admiration and it gave you the confidence to slowly remove your bra. There was a fire in his eyes as his rough palms caressed your soft bare skin.

"So beautiful," he murmured before attacking your lips again.

Once you fell back onto the bed, Jungkook began slowly kissing every inch of you. He left a trail of wet pecks from your lips down to your cheek and neck—sucking until he found your sweet spot and earned a moan. You had never felt so turned on and he hadn't even properly touched you yet. You wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding against him as he moved his kisses down to your breasts.

"I've been dreaming about these for months," he growled before taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking softly.

You keened, arching your back and lifting your chest into his face. He responded by switching nipples, licking and nibbling while his large hand cupped the other breast. Suddenly, he retracted from you, sitting up to tend your jeans. He popped the button undone before slowly shimming them down your legs and chucking them over his shoulder. Next were your panties and it made your heart race in anticipation. He fiddled with the flimsy straps before you eventually lifted yourself for him to pull down the lace and discard them with your jeans.

You were completely bare for him. His lust-crazed eyes drank in your figure as you laid there, hair fanned out across the bedspread in the shape of a halo, your cheeks tinged pink and your thighs clasped together. With his palms on your knees, Jungkook attempted to spread your thighs apart but found you resistant. He tried again, but you wouldn't budge. You trusted him, you wanted this but you couldn't help it, it was like a reflex. He sighed and rested his chin on your knees, sliding his hands down to cup the top of your thighs.

"Princess, if you're not ready, we don't have to."

You shook your head. "No, I want to!"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"I just... I wanna be on top," you explained. "I want to control it."

You swore you saw Jungkook shiver.

"Fucking hell, you're so sexy," he exclaimed. "And I can just smell how wet you are."

"Oh, Jesus!" you cried, your hands flying up to cover your face in embarrassment.

Jungkook leaned down to pull your palms away. "And it's more delicious than the vanilla."

He gave you another kiss before climbing off of you to take off this pants. You sat up to watch as he shamelessly pulled down his underwear—his hard cock springing free. It was bigger than you had imagined, girthier. It was beautiful and you unintentionally squeezed your legs together. You were sure your eyes were the size of saucers as you began to worry how that could possibly fit inside of you.

"Lay down," you ordered after clearing your throat.

He sniggered and he what he was told, climbing onto the bed and lying down with his head propped up against the headboard. You crawled over to him, hovering over his body the same way he did to you moments ago. He was so much bigger than you, longer—you had to straddle his lower stomach in order to reach his lips.

After a few kisses, he looked up at you with wonder—eyes then flicking down to your drenched core against his lower abdomen. He smirked before mumbling against your lips, "I can feel how wet you are for me."

You groaned back into his mouth—automatically grinding your wetness against his navel. He reached into his nightstand, pulling out a small foil packet. You used his chest to push yourself up to watch him rip the packet open with his teeth. Your eyebrows furrowed before taking the slimy rubber off of him.

He frowned. "Wait, I always wear one," he protested.

You shook your head. "Not with me," you murmured.

A devilish smirk spread across his face before he shot up to kiss you, quick to push his tongue into your mouth. You chucked the unused condom over your shoulder and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back fervently. He tried flipping you over but you counteracted, shoving his chest and making him flop back down. You hovered over him, his cock hard and leaking and it enticed you to settle yourself on it. You had no idea what you were doing and his tip missed your entrance, sliding up towards your clit. He sighed at the small contact and boosted your confidence. Soon, found your hips moving—your slick pussy sliding up and down his shaft. You moaned at the ceiling, enjoying the friction of his warm hardness.

You didn't get to enjoy it for long because the next thing you knew, you were on your back. Jungkook loomed over you, propping your legs open and steering his cock towards your entrance. You held your breath.

He pushed into you slowly, leaning over you to watch your reactions. You could tell he was being careful not to hurt you but it was impossible to ignore the strong burning. Your face contorted at the stretch and he froze. He kissed you softly as if to try to kiss the pain away. You giggled, stroking his clammy face.

"Keep going," you whispered.

He nodded, thrusting inside you all the way and releasing a sigh of relief. You felt so incredibly full, you couldn't describe the physical feeling in any other way. But having Jungkook inside you, apart of you, finally, made you feel so overwhelming content. You had each other completely, mind, body and soul.

When he gradually began pumping into you, little whimpers escaped your mouth. He seemed to inhale the sounds, his heavy breathing fanning over your face with your foreheads pressed together. While he focused on keeping a steady pace, you focused in on his face—the pure pained restraint and pleasure clear as day in his expressions.

"You ok?" he grunted, careful not to thrust particularly hard.

You nodded and he kissed you before sitting up and adjusting the position of your hips. This way you both watched as his length worked in and out of you, appearing slicker and wetter the longer he fucked you. You almost couldn't peel your eyes away, heart racing and cheeks flushing at the fact such a filthy sight was turning you on to the point of no return. The pain had almost completely subsided and you threw your head back, whimpering and moaning shamelessly.

Jungkook's grip on your hips became tighter. His thrusts gradually became faster and harder. You clawed at his forearms when his pace turned into a pounding, the bedposts banging against the walls. His tip was constantly hitting your sweet spot and it forced your eyes to roll back. The pleasure was like nothing you had ever experienced, your own fingers couldn't even come close to compare. Your moaning increased into screaming as the coil in the pit of your stomach pulled so incredibly taut you thought you might explode.

"Oh my god, Jungkook!" you squealed, whining and wriggling.

Sensing you were close to your end, Jungkook smirked and bent your legs to push them against your chest. He pounded you into the mattress, snaking a hand between your thighs to rub your clit. The coil snapped and you came with a scream. Your body jerked against Jungkook but he managed to control your body enough to keep ramming your convulsing hole. You were squeezing him so perfectly, he couldn't sense or foresee how close his own end was.

"____, fuck, you feel so fucking good," he rasped, "Oh, fuck!"

Suddenly, you felt empty and you let out a deflated sigh. Long spurts of cum splattered all over your stomach and chest. Jungkook hissed and growled and then yanked at his almost softening cock to shoot the rest of his load around your belly button. In a post-orgasm haze, you tapped at the pools of milky liquid and rubbed the substance between your two fingers. Jungkook watched you intensely as you popped a finger into your mouth to taste and giggled.

He chuckled to mask the chill that went down his spine before fishing off his bed for something to clean you up with. It was the black tee he was wearing that day and he had no hesitations to use it to wipe his cum off of you. Quickly after that, you both got under the covers and laid there silently, feeling completely satisfied and euphoric. You had finally done it. You had sex with Jungkook and it was everything you had wished it to be.

"I swear I last longer than that," Jungkook broke the silence after clearing his throat.

In the moment, you hadn't noticed but on second thought, it was quite fast. You hoped he wouldn't be too hard on himself because for you it was perfect. You were satisfied and for your first time, you didn't think you'd be able to go on that much longer.

You giggled, rolling over to drape your arms around his neck. "It's because I'm better than them," you teased.

He chuckled back. "Yeah, you are."

He leaned in for a big kiss, lazy and sloppy. When he broke away, he dived under the sheets and tried his utmost to settled himself between your thighs. You fought him off and then lifted the covers to confront him.

"What are you doing?!" you squealed.

He looked up at you with a smirk. "I'm taking care of you," he answered, finally wedging himself between your thighs.

He gave your clit a little kitten lick and you squealed, "JUNGKOOK, NO!"

He chuckled evilly before continuing to softly lap at your folds. You were so sensitive from your orgasm it was near torture and you tried to kick at him to stop. He held your legs down and licked a little softer. It tickled like crazy and you kicked and screamed and laughed like a maniac.

"Jungkook, please, please," you begged him as you wrestled through the sheets.

He stopped almost immediately and you tried so hard to straighten out the sheets to find him but to no avail. Instead, he yanked you under, attacking you with kisses until you were snorting from laughter.

Night after night, those sheets compassed you and Jungkook in your own little world of safety and comfort and pleasure—not even the red wine you spilt the week after was enough to tarnish those sheets.

*

Staring at the same red wine stain no longer gave you the feeling of safety and comfort and pleasure. You felt dirty staring at it, crumpled in the middle of the mattress. You were trying to be strong but felt so undeniably pathetic letting something as simple as a stain on a sheet weaken you. It was an awful feeling and it had you wholeheartedly doubting your ability to do what you had to do, what you came there to do—face him.

The shower was running. You could still leave and he'd never know you were there. You could run out of the room right that second and erase the possible encounter from your memory. That would be the easy thing to do, what you had been doing the last three years.

He turned the shower off. And despite the overwhelming sense of dread and anxiousness and panic that brewed at the pity of your stomach, you stood your ground. Three years of the easy way out was quite enough and your decision to stay gave you a strong sense of empowerment. You could do this.

When he walked into his bedroom, his eyes doubled in size seeing you waiting for him. You tried your best not to mirror his expression. He was half dressed. Water droplets from his hair cascaded down his neck. You didn't know if you could do this.

“____, I really didn't expect you here.”

You didn't expect to be there either. You got up early, careful not to wake the sleeping boys scattered around your bedroom floor. You didn't even take a shower. You were almost certain residue from last night’s makeup was on your face. You didn’t even realise the sweatshirt you chucked on was massive on you and Jungkook’s—which earned a questionable look from him. To say you didn’t think this through was the understatement of the century.

You weren’t in your right mind when you stole Taehyung’s car and drove yourself to a murderer’s house. After reading and attempting to process Jungkook’s text, you felt the overwhelming need to take matters into your own hands—to somehow try to fix it and to ultimately try to save your friends. As much as it panicked you to admit and accept—he still loved you and you could play that to your advantage.

However seeing him in such close proximity, shirtless, tattoos on full display, black and coloured, obnoxiously covering the majority of his skin, had you weak in the knees. It was fear that had you trembling—the fear of him and the fear of old feelings. You tried the utmost to avert your eyes, denying yourself to feel the attraction you still harboured towards him. Your hands shook as you mentally reprimanded yourself for not feeling completely disgusted by the sight of him. The fear quickly turned into anger.

“Neither did I,” you forced through gritted teeth.

Jungkook paced over to his dresser but instead of grabbing a shirt he picked up his pack of cigarettes and lit one. You watched him and tried not to watch him at the same time, hugging yourself—unsure whether to take a seat or stand. He took a long drag, staring at you brazenly while your eyes darted around the room.

"You're upset," Jungkook stated.

"You upset me."

Upset, angry, awkward, uncomfortable—he made you feel all of them.

“I’ve missed you, I missed you every day,” he chuckled as if he felt ridiculous for saying it. "Although, you already know that from my unanswered letters. I guess I deserved it for not being honest with you. You've proved your point, it doesn't feel good to be left in the dark."

He was speaking with you so civilly that it shocked you into silence. He was acting as if the events of the night before never happened. Your sight finally landed on him, determined to try to understand how he could be anything other than as hostile as he was less than 24 hours ago. Surely, your surprise visit wasn't enough to sway his bad intentions.

“I didn’t get your letters,” you stated matter-of-factly, “until just recently.”

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped at the information. “Oh,” he replied dejectedly, “did you read them?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. What was he playing at? It was like he still cared—like he still had feelings other than resent and anger and a deranged obsession with you. You would have taken pity on him if he hadn’t threatened to kill all of your friends the night before.

“No,” you lied out of spite.

He sighed. “I guess there are some things we need to talk about, then.”

He was attempting to reconcile... as if the whole thing was just a small miscommunication. You couldn't believe his audacity. He was delusional to think there was anything to redeem between the two of you. You weren't having it. You wouldn't let him indulge in the hope.

“I'm not here to talk about us, Jungkook,” you told him harshly.

He gave you a look as if to say he didn’t believe you. “Then why are you here?”

You looked back at him incredulously. “Why the fuck do you think I’m here?”

He cocked an eyebrow at the bed presumptuously. “You haven’t asked me to put a shirt on,” he added.

You could have punched him. “Put a shirt on,” you ordered flatly, barely controlling your rage.

He raised his hands up in surrender, sticking his cigarette in his mouth so he had both hands to rummage through his drawers. You instinctively exhaled in relief when he found a black tee and rolled it down his abdomen.

“Listen, I'm here because I want you to stay away from my friends," you revealed, approaching him with false bravery.

He kept his back towards you. “I haven’t seen you in three years and that’s all you have to say to me?”

“You fucking threatened to kill them.”

"I'm not going to kill them," he chuckled mockingly.

Your eyebrows knitted together. Your brain throbbed in confusion. He still wouldn't turn around to face you, as if your presence was now a burden and unwanted. Once upon a time, you would have yanked him by his shoulder and maybe even slapped him for his mocking tone. The fact you couldn't do it, the fact you were too scared to, only fueled your frustration.

"And I'm just supposed to believe that," you called him out, "after the stunt you pulled last night?"

"Yes," he answered, aggressively putting out his cigarette in the tray on his dresser.

"You're fucking insane," you scoffed, rubbing your temples.

Jungkook's shoulder's stiffened. You struck the right chord. In a flash, he turned to step into your face and screamed, “I’M NOT GOING TO KILL YOUR FRIENDS, ____.”

You should have cowered at his outburst, it made sense to. But instead, you screamed right back. “THEN WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU THREATENED TO?!”

Jungkook sighed shakily through his rage. “You didn’t read my letters,” he almost explained to himself before turning back around to slam a drawer shut.

You flinched at the bang. You had no idea what he was on about but you refused to reveal you had read them. You wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Although, it did have you pondering whether he did explain some aspects of his actions in those letters apart from the one letter explaining he was his father’s personal hitman. You didn't remember anything noteworthy in regards to why he would subject himself to such a role and what that role entailed—but then again, you hadn't read them all. Regardless, that didn't matter. All that mattered was that you were talking to a deranged killer and that killer had your friends on his hit list. All that mattered was their safety and you had to ensure it.

"You kill people, Jungkook. You killed someone in front of me," you managed to choke out. "You can't blame me for not believing your threats are empty."

"They're not when it comes to business," he answered plainly. "This was personal so I take it back. Happy? You can leave now."

"That's not fair," you squeaked.

"What's not fair, ___, hm?" he mocked, "You came here to save your friends. You did that and now, you can go!"

You knew you shouldn't have let him get to you but he just did. This was the part where you would kiss him silly, reassure him it was just a stupid fight and you adored him too much waste a moment angry. You felt bad. You could still feel how much he cared for you. You could feel how disappointed he was that he didn't feel that care back—manipulation at its finest.

“It wasn’t easy for me, you know,” you called after him as he walked away from you and sat on his bed with his back turned, “I’m sure you think so. I’m sure you think I’m one heartless bitch but what was I supposed to do, Jungkook?”

Your question lingered in the air. You stared holes into his back while he sat there, silent, with his head in his hands. When he finally lifted his head, he looked over his shoulder towards you. Your heart raced, forgetting how gorgeous his side profile was—you could have screamed.

“Talk to me,” he replied.

You really could have screamed.

“Do you have any fucking clue how scared I was of you? How scared I still am?” your voice wavered. “You murder people as a job. Not to mention you lied to me about it.”

“You know that’s not who I am,” he murmured, “You know me.”

“No, I don’t," you shook your head. "The boy I knew and fell in love with didn't kill people for his father's drug cartel. And I won't apologise for turning you in but I am sorry it had to be that way."

He scoffed. “Why do you have to remind me?”

“I think we’ve both done enough pretending, Jungkook,” you said softly.

“Why do you have to remind me,” he repeated, disregarding that you spoke, “that you betrayed me and that I should fucking hate you but—”

“Don't—”

He chuckled at the ceiling. "Enough pretending, huh?"

Your heart ached for him and how badly you wanted to somehow fix him. It was a toxic feeling and you wished you had recognised it as such the first time you felt it—all those years ago in that motel room. You wanted nothing more but to cower away but you stood your ground and said the bravest thing you had ever said in your life.

"I was so in love with you, Jungkook," you croaked unintentionally. "I couldn't sleep for weeks with your voice in my head, screaming to see me one last time and when I could sleep, I cried myself to sleep for months, fucking missing you and feeling so goddamn guilty!"

You didn't realise how distraught you were until your vision went blurry from the tears. Jungkook approached you slowly but stopped once he noticed you backing away at the same pace. You would have had a panic attack if he got any closer.

"I was so in love with you," you repeated through your sobs, "and you made me hate myself for it! You made me feel like there was something wrong with me! You do the most despicable, repulsive, most horrendous things a human being could do—you kill—and I loved you so much it hurt."

"____—"

"You put me in that position," you interrupted him with accusations. "You fucked with my head and my entire life. You ruined me. "

"We ruined each other," he retorted.

"I guess we did," you sniffled, trying to wipe and dry your face with your sleeve.

"I'm sorry," he said with complete sincerity—you could see it in his eyes.

You nodded and tucked your hair behind your ears so the strands wouldn't stick to your wet cheeks. "I don't think I have or will ever get over you, but I have to," you admitted. "Goodbye, Jungkook."

As you turned your back on him, a weight lifted off of your shoulders—you felt almost as if you were floating. This was it. You said your piece. You got your closure. Now, you could move on—or so you thought.

"____," he called softly, "you can still be with me. I would never hurt you."

The weight returned, heavy as ever. Your stomach sank. The desperation in his voice so crystal clear, so raw it could never be unheard or forgotten—something new to haunt you. Neither of you were pretending anymore. You were both being utterly vulnerable and it was petrifying. But, you had said your piece and you had to stand by it.

"It's not me I'm worried about," you uttered before desperately continuing to make your leave.

"You're with him, aren't you?" he muttered under his breath and it stopped you in your tracks. "Taeyang... Taehyung."

You looked over your shoulder at him and you wished you didn't. The fire in his eyes was raging and terrifying, almost demonic. You felt frozen in place as if his gaze turned you to stone. He always had the worst temper especially when it was brewed from jealousy. You knew this but you couldn't find the words to reassure him, you couldn't even find the words to lie.

You swore you heard him growl when you swiftly escaped out the door and slammed it behind you. You didn't realise you were holding your breath until a loud bang emitted and caused you to gasp. The second bang shook the closed door and was followed by deafening crashes. Every bang and crash vibrated through you, paralysing you. Your memories of Jungkook thrashing around in that interrogation flooded your thoughts, evoking utter trauma and sadness to the point of your knees almost buckling beneath you.

"God fucking dammit, Jungkook! Don't destroy everything, for fucks sakes! I want those pictures of Mom—"

Namjoon halted his march when he saw you frozen in front of his brother's bedroom door. You wished you had the strength to slip away as soon as you heard him coming. Yet, your legs betrayed you and here you were, face to face with the person who started this nightmare.

"____, what a pleasant surprise!"

Somehow his radiance of arrogance and terribly masked hostility made you roll your eyes and shocked your body into movement. You pushed past him, ignoring his calls for you and didn't look back until you were in the safety of Taehyung's Aston Martin. Your hands were shaking against the steering wheel so you took a minute before driving off. Jungkook's eyes, the way that his stare bored into your soul, full of contempt and heartbreak and clear envy towards the boy who owned the car you were sitting in, haunted you. You just couldn't respond at the accusation he fired at you—his words now playing in your head over and over like a broken record. And as you sped onto the road you realised you said nothing, not one word because... you didn't know yourself.

*

"Hey, are you all wrinkly and gross yet?"

"Like a 90-year-old woman!"

You heard Taehyung chuckle from the other side of the bathroom door. The deep rumbling sound comforted you, confirming he hadn't heard the rasp and crackle in your own voice from crying. You had been crying for the last two hours while your naked body soaked in steaming hot water. The water now lukewarm, you had just managed to control your sobs and put on a brave voice for the boy who was checking up on you. The boy who would always check up on you, in the worst moments like he had a sixth sense for when you were upset. God, how you wished you'd fucking stop burdening him with your bullshit.

"So," he began, softly thumping his forehead against the bathroom door, "you went to see him?"

You went silent. You weren't ready for the grilling that would follow a response. All Taehyung could hear was water sloshing and he sighed.

"I understand why you did it," he continued, "but I just wish you would have told one of us."

"You would have stopped me."

This time, it was his turn to be silent. You heard him sigh again and then slide down the door to sit. As much as you normally wouldn't want to have this conversation—words flowed out of your mouth.

"I had to, Taehyung," you explained, "I couldn't let him come after you, any of you."

"I know, darling," he huffed.

Darling. That was new. But surprisingly, it didn't send your thoughts spiralling into a whirlwind of what it meant and what it meant to your relationship. Your head was too filled with Jungkook.

You grunted. "It's just so crazy to me how I could be so in love with someone for so long... and at the same time feel like I didn't know them at all."

"What did you guys... talk about?"

You sighed. You could tell he was speaking carefully, wanting to know what happened but wary you could shut him out at any time. Jungkook had always been a touchy subject but now, you felt ready.

"Us, the boys, you," you summarised.

"Huh," he acknowledged you as casually as possible—as if not to push it.

"He wanted to get back together..."

You heard Taehyung's shuffling around on the floor. His interest peaked at the confirmation you were willing to share. "And what did you say?" he prompted you.

Your eyebrows furrowed. "No, of course! Why would you even ask me that?!"

"The last time we talked about him... it seemed..." he paused and you braced yourself, "it seemed as if presented with the chance... you might take him back."

"That's offensive," you deadpanned.

"There's nothing wrong with loving someone and wanting someone, ____."

Where the fuck was this coming from? Was he really encouraging feelings that tormented you? "He's a fucking murderer, Taehyung."

"You can't help the way you feel though, ____. I didn't judge you then and I won't judge you now for still caring for him."

You knew his words were supposed to relieve you but they only made you angry. "I don't," you said through gritted teeth.

Taehyung chuckled at your childlike stubbornness. "You can lie all you want to yourself but you can't lie to me."

"Why are you saying this?! Why are you putting these stupid ideas in my head? You're acting like I'm supposed to be with him when I'm supposed to be with—" you.

Even a closed door between the two of you couldn't ward off the tension. He didn't respond. And in his silence you thought, you and Taehyung couldn't be. His silence meant he didn't want you anymore—not only because of the pact but because of your mess of emotions and feelings towards this other man that rudely strolled back into your life. You thought, surely, Taehyung respected himself enough to not respond, to not get involved with you in that way. With this presumptuous realisation, you cleared your throat and decided to change the subject.

"I told him to stay away from you guys and he actually agreed," you almost chuckled. "Sometimes the long shots pan out, huh?"

"And you believe him?" he said softly, you almost didn't catch it through the closed door.

"I do... I mean I think so? God, I'm so sorry I brought you all into this awful fucking mess," you wailed, burying your face into your wet hands.

"No, no!" Taehyung exasperated, "Don't, please. I was stupid to question you. You put your neck out to protect us and we're so fucking lucky to have you. Don't you dare be sorry. We're gonna be ok. Please don't worry and please don't cry again."

Again?

"You heard me before?" you questioned painfully.

He sighed. "It was hard not to. It sounded like you needed it so I left you to it... which was harder."

You wanted to apologise again but you knew that would just upset him more. "Surely, you're used to me crying by now," you said, trying to make a joke out of it.

"It will always hurt to see or hear you cry," he admitted softly.

"God!" you exclaimed.

"That cheesy, huh?" he chuckled back.

"No," you shook your head, despite him unable to see, "sweet."

He groaned. "Just bury me a few feet deeper into the friend zone, why don't you?"

You laughed. "You the one prompting me to talk about my insane ex who I supposedly still want to be with!"

"Look, I'm not particularly enjoying that conversation but I want you to talk to someone about it and I know you won't talk to anyone without a little push," he explained.

You went quiet.

"____?" he called out after you didn't respond after a minute. "You've been quiet about this for three years, don't you think it's time?"

He was right. You stared at the faucet of the tub, sifting through your thoughts, attempting to unjumble them into sentences you could speak. It took you another minute or so.

"It was really hard seeing him today. I mean, last night was hard too but... that Jungkook wasn't my Jungkook. I saw my Jungkook today and saying goodbye to him might have been the hardest thing I've ever done."

Silent tears streamed down your face. You were thankful Taehyung couldn't see you.

"He was exactly how I remembered him, minus a few tattoos, and fuck me, I felt this weird attraction and I just couldn't fucking shake it. It was like I was fighting with myself to not act exactly how we once were. But, in my defence, how are you even supposed to act in that sort of situation? Especially when he was acting so... himself, just... angry and hurt. It felt so weird not to reach out to him and console him and makeup with him to the point where I didn't even know how to stand and hold my arms. It felt wrong and unnatural to leave him like that... Fuck, I'm just as insane as he is."

"No, you're not," Taehyung reassured you.

"I hate that he still haunts me. I hate that he's still in my fucking life."

"____, you never had that chance to say goodbye. It's normal to feel this way. You essentially pressed paused on your grieving process. You never had closure, Jesus, you never even had a proper breakup fight. Of course, it's going to feel weird but trust me, you'll get through this."

You were appreciative of his words, you really were. But as you laid there in, now, cold water staring at the ceiling—only one thought flowed through your mind. One thought that you believed, if actioned, could have prevented this entire emotional crisis.

“I should have just let you fuck me last night.”

You pretended not to hear the back of his head thud against the door.

*

When you eventually got out of the bath, Taehyung had set up a movie and had snacks sprawled across your bedspread. As gorgeous as the set up was, it was the boxy grin he gave you that was the icing on the cake. You crawled on the bed, pecking him on the cheek before slipping under the covers.

"Just us tonight?" you queried as before you had taken your bath, all four boys were lazying around your bedroom.

"Hoseok's coming in an hour or so," he replied. "Yoongi and Jimin want their own beds tonight."

"That's fair," you giggled. "You're all gonna be walking around with hunched backs like old men if you keep sleeping on my floor."

"We don't mind the floor!"

"Yeah, of course, you don't," you retorted, "you cokehead."

"Hey!"

You giggled again and Taehyung let you, just happy to hear you laugh. Although, you were right. He was always so faded it really didn't matter to him where he'd crash. And somehow, he'd always bounce back the next morning, unphased and unaffected by the uncomfortable sleep and substances from the night before.

"So, I'm guessing you told them Jungkook isn't coming for them?"

He nodded. "And they increased their security, just in case."

You groaned. "Please don't say that."

"Sorry, I thought that might have put you at ease a little more," he said, apologetically.

You shook your head as if to say it was fine. He gave you a small smile before starting the movie. You had trouble focusing on it. All you could think about was Taehyung's safety. If Jungkook was to go back on his word, it would be Taehyung he'd come after. The more you thought about it the more you believed it to be probable. You left Jungkook in a distraught state with Taehyung's name on his lips. Chills spread through you, to the bone and you were so grateful Taehyung decided he could go another night without his own bed.

Half an hour into the movie, your eyes became droopy. Taehyung had rolled onto his side and you took the opportune moment to spoon him, so tightly he let out a squawk and a chuckle. You wouldn't let go, you wouldn't even relax your grip to let him wriggle. He noticed the third time he tried to change his position.

"You good?"

You hummed.

"Um, do you think you can let me breathe then?"

"Taehyung," you sighed, "you just gotta let me do this, ok?"

He sniggered and then nodded, "Ok."

*

As you fell asleep, you had continued to hold onto Taehyung so tightly. You had to ensure he wasn't going anywhere, to ensure he wasn't leaving you, to ensure he wouldn't be taken from you. As you drifted off, you had felt a horrible sense of dread at the pit of your stomach that you couldn't shake. In the middle of the night, when you felt nothing but linen where Taehyung was supposed to be—it was safe to say that dread was amplified by a million.

Hoseok was sleeping on the other side of you, he must have snuck in right after you had drifted off. You woke him up with a frantic slap, you were aiming for his back but in the dark, you’d hit his head. Reflexively, he kicked you right back and groaned in annoyance.

“Hobi! Wake up, where's Taehyung?!” you fired at him.

After a few long seconds, Hoseok stirred awake. "What?" he replied groggily, "He's probably taking a piss."

You whipped the blankets off of you and jumped out of bed as if you weren't sound asleep minutes ago. When you saw the bathroom door wide open and the light off, you began to panic.

"No, he's not Hoseok!" you screamed, pure hysteria in your croaky voice.

Hoseok did his best to come to, slowly rising from his pillow and rubbing his eyes. "____, calm down. He probably couldn't sleep and went outside to smoke."

You shook your head frantically. "No, Hobi! He always wakes me up for that."

Hoseok sighed and sat up, ready to humour you and engage in the search for Taehyung—who was, in Hoseok's mind, most likely raiding the fridge. You, however, were convinced he wasn't. You just had a feeling something was terribly wrong. You ran over to your nightstand to grab your phone. No texts, or missed calls. He always texted or called. Something was definitely wrong.

"____," Hoseok called to you.

You turned to him to see him on his phone, his eyebrows furrowed and you could tell it wasn't because of his phone's brightness.

"Get dressed," he commanded, "I know where he is."

*

It was 3 in the morning. The only reason you had paid attention to what time it was was that in darkness it lit up neon red on the dashboard of Hoseok's car. After hounding him to tell you what was going on to no avail—all you could do was stare at the little red numbers. You had no idea where you were going, no idea where Taehyung was and no idea why Taehyung left your side in the middle of the night.

You tried your best not to think about how scary the situation was. Hoseok knew you well and even though it aggravated you for him to decide to not tell you anything for the time being—you trusted him. He was keeping quiet for good reason. Maybe he didn't even have all the answers? So, you kept your questions at bay, content with the fact you weren't having a full-on panic attack. But, oh how you felt it brewing.

You knew the apartment complex Hoseok pulled into. You'd been there many times it was like another home, familiar. What wasn't familiar was the police cars parked outside, blocking off the entrance. You didn't wait for the car to come to a complete stop before you bolted out, ignoring Hoseok's calls for you. You ran into the lobby and with shaky hands hit the button for the elevator repeatedly. When it finally came you hit the button for the penthouse suite and assaulted the button for the doors to close before anyone saw you sneak into a crime scene.

It was a crime scene. When you got to the top floor you were met with yellow tape and officers hanging around. Your heartbeat was fast and loud in your eardrums, drowning out any other sound, drowning out the police officers questioning you as you stormed into the apartment you had been in a hundred times before.

You didn't know what to think. All you felt was overwhelming dread and horror as you paced frantically around the open planned living room and kitchen—trying to figure out what was going on and hoping not to see the worst. But even if it was the worst, your brain would deny believing. If anything it all felt like a bad dream—none of it made sense.

An officer eventually got a hold of you, grabbing you by the arm. "Ma'am, you can't be in here, this is a crime scene," he informed you, trying to drag you off.

"No, no, this is my friend's apartment," you argued, still terribly confused and petrified.

"You still need to leave, ma'am," the officer said, trying to haul you away again.

"No!" you screamed, fighting him for your arm back.

"It's fine, she can stay!"

You had never felt so grateful to hear a voice in your entire life. You were so relieved, you immediately started crying. He was sitting on the couch in the dark as still as a statue and you ran over to him. Having walked past that same couch in your panicked state, his stillness seemed to have camouflaged him into the furniture. When you crouched in front of him, he still didn't move. He just looked at you and through his dead eyes, you saw anguish.

"Taehyung?" you called to him softly through your tears.

He didn't respond and it prompted you to reach out to him, to grab his wet hands. Your stomach sunk. You dived for the lamp and when the light shed upon him, you forced down a dry heave. He was covered in blood.

"Oh my god!" you cried, frantically feeling him for his wounds. You began hyperventilating, calling someone, anyone for help but the words got lost in your heavy breathing. He was so pale and judging by the amount of blood covering him, he must have lost a lot. Why was no one helping him? You were trembling. You tried to lift his shirt to find the source of the bleeding but suddenly, Taehyung grabbed a firm hold of your hands.

"____," he croaked with pure heartbreak in his eyes, "it's not my blood."

You fell back onto the coffee table. At that moment, you swore time stopped. You don't know how you found your footing, but you managed. You headed straight down the hallway thinking, bedroom, bedroom, bedroom.

"No, ____," Taehyung called after you desperately, "you let me explain! YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE THAT—”

The bedroom was crowded but you spotted a familiar face. He spotted you too, almost immediately and tried to usher you out. You protested, holding him at arm's length, searching his body for any blood or wounds through teary eyes. When you were confident he was ok, you buried your face into his chest.

“Seokjin,” you whimpered. “What the fuck’s going on?!”

He hushed you, rubbing your back. He wanted to tell you, he really did. But the fact you were so distraught already had him second-guessing telling you, almost never wanting you to know. But, of course, he couldn't shelter you from everything—especially not this.

“I’ll explain everything,” he murmured, looking over his shoulder at the bathroom door and continuing to try to push you out of the room. “We just need to leave this room first, ok?”

“Why—”

A man, an officer, a detective emerged from the ensuite with a bang. The door always banged against the wall if you pushed it just a little too much, but he wouldn't know that. This was a stranger’s apartment to him, to all of them and they were the ones to make you feel like the stranger, the intruder.

“Sir, please take her outside. We can't have you both in here— ____?”

The detective was Choi Seunghyun. You were surprised he even remembered you but then, your brain quickly connected the dots. You could have puked all over his coat and turtleneck ensemble. You could feel the blood drain from your face, you could feel yourself turn pale.

The detective had left the bathroom door wide open and staring into his concerned eyes you could see him realise his mistake. When you saw the owner of the apartment, the shock sent your whole body into numbness and caused white noise to deafen your ears. His naked body was lying on the tile, limp and contorted unnaturally. He was mutilated and soaked in blood, the red even streaking through his blonde hair—Min Yoongi's blonde hair.

You hit the floor screaming. Jin tried to haul you up again but you refused, whacking at his arms as he tried to lift you. Within seconds, Taehyung was behind you with his arms and legs enveloping you as you cried and screamed and cried. You had never before felt your heart break and crumble the way it did in that moment.

previous chapter`

[poison-shark]

Violet Knight

Fandom: Young Justice/ DC

Characters: Star Sapphire 2814 (Noa Ramires) OC, Star Sapphire 2813 (En’Cennaria Al’Verk) OC

*If you want to see more Noa content or more/different OCs I tag anything with Noa in it with #noa ramires*

**I obviously don’t own DC or Star Sapphire**

Hazel eyes gazed at the sky, for the first time without curiosity. She was aware of what was up there now, and it was war. Each light a star or planet in some sort of peril or dismay. They no longer sparked her heart as they once did. She wasn’t sure anything ever would. As far as she was concerned the vast expanse of darkness above her was no longer inspiring nor was it beautiful. Now it was cold and unforgiving. Noa Ramires had lost almost half of her family. She was an orphan and no longer fit the label ‘twin’. She blamed the sky.

The young girl stood alone in the graveyard, her uncles left with her brother and sister, along with her Obachan, hours ago. Still she sat in front of the headstone with heavy heart re-reading the names etched into the rock. She had to beg them to let her stay. It was not her first time in the Coastville Cemetery, however. She and Ren had hopped the fence many a time to explore and say hello to people long forgotten, without families to visit them, but now Ren was gone. She was alone with her wet, white tights covered in dirt, and her black dress did practically nothing to shelter her from the chilly night breeze threatening to blow her small frame down. The wind howled and the sound of the ocean nearby comforted her.

A few minutes passed and Noa decided she couldn’t bare to read the names anymore. As if on instinct, she ventured past the rows of tombstones and mausoleums, snow crunching as she stepped, and into the shrubbery. The seven year old came out the other side to face the ocean with twenty five feet of cliff face holding her up. Noa had no foolish plans of jumping. She had a baby sister to look after and protect, and a big brother to hold up, and so many people that would miss her. No, that was not her intention. She and Ren would sneak out here often to have picnics and make comics, using rocks to hold down papers. She glanced forlornly at the Pacific beneath her feet, waves crashing against limestone as the wind picked up. Her brother used to dive off and swim to the bottom. He always brought her gifts like seashells or ‘buried treasure’ from the underwater caves. Soon she would have to move in with Obachan and that meant saying her goodbyes to Coastville. Those goodbyes included this cliff face and the memories it held. Turning her head to the stars once more, she noticed something in the inky abyss shining particularly bright and getting bigger by the second. Forgetting where she was, Noa moved her left foot slightly forward before quickly realizing and attempting to step back, but her weak center of gravity combined with her small stature and a rather large gust of wind meant the cosmos had other plans. Noa spilled forward and over the edge.

Whilst falling she tried to reach out and grab a branch or latch onto some stone, but instead only some cuts, scrapes, and bruises. She attempted to right herself as to not land on her head, which actually kind of worked. Her flailing feet hit the water first with a freezing splash. The fall knocked most of the wind out of her, but not enough to stop her from swimming to the surface. Noa Ramires was not a weak swimmer in the slightest. In fact, she could almost keep up with her brothers and father, and they were Atlantean. The seven year old, however, was nowhere near strong enough to fight the ice cold waves pushing her further and further away from the rocky surface. Her head shifted to the sky as she screamed for help, lungs filling at a slow steady pace. The shiny light had gotten bigger and brighter now and Noa could determine that it was a specific purplish color. That was when she realized that it was getting closer and headed straight for her. Her hazel eyes widened and she flipped her black locks out of them in an attempt to prove her vision wrong. It was not. Noa made a mad splash for the cliff, battling the current, but could feel the warmth of the purple light gaining speed as it hurtled to Earth. The freezing temperature of the water contrasted incredibly with the searing heat from the purple meteor.

The supposed meteor slammed into the water with astonishing force, creating a wave that sent Noa tumbling under the depths and into the cliff side, hitting her head. Her drowning body sinking slowly.

The meteor, in reality, was not technically a meteor at all, but a woman encased in bubble of violet light. Her name was En’Cennaria Al’Verk, Star Sapphire of her home planet Ignia in Space Sector 2813. Ignia in actuality was not a planet, but the Ancient Ignites did not know that. Ignia’s proper classification would be a star, a red supergiant to be precise. Well, it was a red giant. Ignites as a people were not typically all that intelligent, but do operate on a code of honor. They are a warrior-like species with great passion and drive and a deep respect for other people’s. Like all Ignites, En’Cennaria was encased in a yellow fire that started in her heart and spread to her eyes and other appendages. The pathways the fire took to get to those places reveal themselves as scars of blue flame. As Ignites get older their fires change color like the life cycle of a star. If an Ignite’s flame goes out they will die

En’Cennaria was coming home from a mission nearly fatally injured and in need of her home’s energy to fully heal. She hadn’t even entered the atmosphere when Ignia imploded, blowing its outermost layer to pieces and sending En’Cennaria to Earth in the next sector. Most of the population of Ignia was evacuated and the blue lanterns eventually returned Ignia to its former glory, but En’Cennaria would never see it.

Now on this strange planet, En’Cennaria was dying, unable to heal, and, in her mind, the sole survivor of her native star. The only thing keeping her from instant death was the protective casing of violet light she made with her ring. Her eyes blasted open revealing bright blue fire. By gazing at the life form just ahead of her she supposed she was on Earth. She had come to Earth a couple of times and had seen humans amusing themselves in the substance they called water, but this human did not look amused. She had heard that some Earthlings could breathe underwater and figured this being was of their kind. En’Cennaria scanned the human for an analysis. A small screen-like energy construct of violet light appeared before her and displayed the humans vital signs.

“I have no idea what that means.” she informed the ring in a raspy voice.

The ring responded on screen with ‘It is a human female child. She is dying. She has an immeasurable amount of love in her heart and has lost many she loved very recently. She will die. Nearly nothing in the universe can prevent that now.’ En’Cennaria glanced down at the injuries she sustained, the gaping holes in her chest and abdomen were nowhere near healing any time soon and any Star Sapphires that heard her distress signal would not be able to aid her or the human girl in time. En’Cennaria was going to die, no matter what, just like that child. Nothing could heal something so severe, unless…

If she was to die, the Ignite did not want it to be in vain. “Is she eligible?”

‘You will die.’

“That is not what I asked.”

‘If you give this child your power ring you will die, En’Cennaria Al’Verk.’

“Would the initiation process save her?”

The ring waited before providing an answer, ‘Yes. Yes, she is extremely eligible. Yes, it would save her.’

Before she was to initiate her plan she had to know, “What happened to Silne-Zo?” Silne-Zo had been her partner in protecting their sector. She was from the planet Xudar not too far away from Ignia. Ignia was not Xudar’s sun which was fortunate for the Xudarians. En’Cennaria and Silne-Zo had become involved a few Earth years prior. She was flying her to the edge of Ignia’s atmosphere when it imploded. She could have been injured or worse in a nearby galaxy.

‘She is close. She is on the planet Mars. Her ring is searching for a new host.’

The news of her love’s fate cracked her heart and solidified her decision, “Then I suppose this is farewell. Please, save her.”

En’Cennaria Al’Verk removed her violet power ring before it could respond. As she did so her gaze fixed on the little girl, whose eyes had opened slightly as if to catch a last glimpse of life. She grinned at the child as the bubble of light collapsed and her flame suffocated. Her black, charred remains dissolved quickly into space dust and soon there was almost no evidence of En’Cennaria Al’Verk’s very existence.

Almost no evidence. Noa Ramires lay quiet and still under the waves and a bright beautiful light came ever closer. It was much smaller than it had been a few seconds ago and she was sure she was about to join her parents and become a twin again. In her eager weakness she reached her hand out toward the light accepting what was to come. It wrapped around her finger like a ring and soon she was fast in a deep sleep. For a moment she even saw them.

Her eyes shot open to reveal an endless expanse of blue. Was she still in the water? No, she couldn’t be. She was dry, and warm, and breathing. There was no plausible way for her to still be underwater, but she was. A thin lining of air surrounded her in violet light. She glanced down at her hands to check if this phenomena was actually happening to her and to her horror found a very familiar ring on her left middle finger and that she was no longer in her own clothes. She was wearing a violet dress with a white star on her chest, white tights, and matching purple boots. She exhaled deeply, trying very hard not to freak out. She attempted to run her fingers through her hair to soothe herself, but there was a tiara in the way that had not been there before.

‘Noa Estela Ramires of Space Sector 2814,’ a voice rang throughout her head that did not belong to her. It was mildly robotic while still being calm and melodic, like a mother’s. ‘You have great love in your heart. Welcome to the Star Sapphire Corps. Follow your heart.’

“Are-” her ability to speak gave her a slight start, “Are you going to fill me with rage or hope and get me killed?”

‘You have great love in your heart, Noa Ramires. That is up to you. Will you return to Zamaron to be properly introduced?’

“Do I have to go now? My family will be worried. What time is it?”

‘You do not have to go at this time. It is 8:17 P.M. Pacific Standard Time. You have not slept recently. You would not have enough energy to reach Zamaron. You must go home and rest, Noa Ramires. We will venture to Zamaron tomorrow.’

Noa flew carefully up the cliff face. When she stepped onto the edge she stepped much further away from the drop. She asked the ring if she could change back into her old clothes and suddenly she was back in them, but the ring kept them warm and dry. She walked home,which was only a street away, where she received a lecture from her uncles before collapsing into bed. She could figure out what to do in the morning.

@gegeru @insideoflit

[neonb-fly]

Masked Chapter Nine

Word Count: 2302 words of pure angst

Taglist: @deadpanstar @the-incedible-sulk @punknerdmusings @risiskifi @dragonsight9 @thefallendog @im-so-infinitesimal @entpscarleharrrr

Chapters-  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10               Also on AO3!

Warnings- CHARACTER DEATH AND FIGHTING

Roman ushered on over Patton and Logan. They stood before the massive castle doors, with the knights they had knocked out sitting on the sides. The large doors were beautifully ornate, with intricate patterns climbing up the sides like vines. The doorknob was formed in shape of a head of a lion. It would be a lot more amazing if they weren’t about to engage in a dangerous battle.

Roman’s nerves were on end. “This is our only chance. We have to be quick, and careful. The Shadow Master is powerful, but we’ll have the element of surprise. They won’t be expecting us, and that’s our most valuable part of the plan.”

“No heroics, Princey,” Logan said dryly. “We’re in this together, and we have to rescue Virgil. We can’t lose anyone to this.”

Roman and Patton nodded together. Patton took a small step forward, before pausing and turning back around to face the sides. “Good luck everyone. You’re my famILY! Please be careful,” he said. He stretched out his arms in a hug and the other two embraced him. The hug was warm, filled with love and positivity.

“Patton, it’s not like we’re going away for forever!” Roman pointed out, still graciously accepting the hug.

“But it’s dangerous. If anything were to go wrong…” Patton wavered. He looked worriedly at them as they broke away.

“It won’t,” Logan promised, “as long as we follow our plan, then this should go by without any difficulties.”

“Well, good luck you two,” Patton smiled at them. Roman smiled back.

“You too, Pat!” He squeezed Patton’s hand before letting go. “Are we ready?” The other two nodded. “Battle stances,” he ordered, “and enter in three… two… one…”

Together, the group barged into the massive hall and raced toward the throne without a second thought. The Shadow Master looked pleasantly surprised. “Oh good, some excitement.” He jumped up from his throne and got into a battle stance, but Roman was quicker. He quickly drew his sword and parried him. The Shadow Master deflected almost every hit with his armor. The Shadow Master caught the sides of Roman's blade between his hands and smirked. Roman’s eyes widened as he grabbed it and threw it all the way to the entrance. Roman jumped back before the Shadow Master could strike, and raced towards his sword, never breaking his eye contact with the dangerous warlord.

Meanwhile, Patton and Logan were busy fighting off five knights side by side. The pair worked together in perfect harmony, deflecting some hits, and delivering others. Patton quickly flew up, and knocked one knight over. The knight’s armor was too heavy for him to get back up, leaving him writhing on the ground. Patton smiled at his small victory. Logan easily predicted the other knights’ movements, effortlessly blocking and attacking with the sword he picked up from the fallen knight. He warned Patton to look out for damaging blows.

The Shadow Master looked back at his failing knights. His gaze grew furious as he realized his fleet was losing against two easy opponents. Raising up his shadow staff, he summoned dark, inky tendrils. They slowly drew towards Patton and Logan. Roman noticed it, and raced towards the Shadow Master to stop him. He knocked the staff out of his hands. The Shadow Master whirled towards Roman, and took out his own sword. It was polished black, and the hilt was made of bone and ruby. It was rather beautiful. “Mesmerizing, isn’t it?” he asked before lunging at Roman.

Together, Logan and Patton were able to successfully defeat the first wave. But Patton turned around to see two Paladins run in. Logan’s attention wasn’t focused on them though. He was looking for Virgil. His ability had a block in it, like he couldn't see. Logan guessed it had to do with Virgil.

“Look out!” Patton yelled. Logan ducked out of reflex, but it was too late. The Paladin hit him with a club and severely knocked the wind out of him. Logan couldn’t move from the ground. The Paladin took his chance and prepared to strike. Patton quickly retaliated and jumped in the way of the Paladin. The other Paladin grabbed Logan and lifted him up. He had trapped him in his tight grasp, leaving Logan squirming, but to no avail.

Patton looked back, caught off guard as the other Paladin lifted him up and trapped him as well. The dynamic duo had been captured.

They looked at Roman to see him fighting the Shadow Master who was slowly backing away. He jumped backwards, and picked up his staff. He quickly summoned the tentacles once more and trapped Roman. They crawled up his arm and knocked his sword out of his grasp. Everyone had been trapped.

“Well, well, well, isn’t this a surprise,” the Shadow Master smirked. “Finally, I caught these ridiculous sides. Took long enough, huh? Though I must admit, Roman, you fought well with the others. Too bad it was short lived,” he sneered, gesturing towards Patton and Logan. Roman stopped squirming for a second, and his eyes widened. It finally clicked. Only one person acted like that…

“D-Dragon Witch? How’d you get chosen as the villain?!” Roman exclaimed. The Shadow Master’s twisted smile grew as he took off his mask. His eyes glowed a strong amber as his scaly tail swished behind him.

“Easy. You needed a villain, so you got one,” he explained. “You didn’t think I just got summoned out of thin air, did you? No, you never specified your room you needed a new villain.” the dragon witch smirked. Roman felt like his blood had turned to ice. If he had known the Dragon Witch were the villain, he would never have taken the other sides. The dragon witch was too smart for them to fight. It was unfair for all of them. Especially Virgil...

He looked back at the Paladins, and commanded them to drop Logan and Patton. The two both immediately ran towards the dragon witch. “Now, now, not so fast,” he said, winking as he flicked his staff. The tendrils trapped them as well. “This is just too easy.”

“Where’s Virgil?” Logan growled, his eyes darkening. The inky tendrils tore off his diadem, and popped off Patton’s boots, leaving them completely powerless.

“Right here,” a voice responded, materializing out of the shadows and walking up beside the dragon witch. The purple mask the covered his face looked more intimidating than ever.

“Virgil…” Patton whispered, choked up. He was about to say more, but was cut off by one of the dark tendrils covering his mouth. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes as he struggled.

“Virgil here is going to...hmmm... entertain us. Aren’t you?” the dragon witch asked. Virgil didn’t break eye contact with Patton as he nodded. The dragon witch smiled, his amber eyes glinting. “There’s a battle that needs to be finished.”

Roman’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t…” Of course. The battle at the burning city... Patton realized.

“I would. Just you and Virgil. No knights, no Patton, no me. For now,” the dragon witch hinted menacingly. Logan rolled his eyes at his lack of mention. The shadows that had trapped Roman gave way and let him go. Roman fell to the floor on his knees. “Here’s your sword,” the dragon witch threw Roman’s sword to him. Virgil took the dragon witch’s own sword and prepared to fight him.

“You don’t have to do this, Virgil… I-I’m sorry,” Roman pleaded. For Roman to show a weakness, especially in front of the dragon witch, was monumental. Patton thought he saw Virgil’s eyes flash for a second. It looked like regret.

“Yes, I do,” Virgil snarled as he leapt towards Roman. Roman was ready in an instant. He blocked Virgil’s attacks, and dodged out of the way as Virgil aimed for his throat. Virgil smirked. He was looking forward to the battle.

Roman got on the offensive, and struck out towards Virgil. He hit Virgil’s arm. Roman immediately felt guilty as Virgil winced, before he deflected another oncoming hit from Roman. The cut on his shoulder started to bleed. While Roman attacked him once more, Virgil blocked it, and kicked Roman’s hand. Roman dropped his sword, and ducked an oncoming flurry of hits aimed at where his chest was the moment before. He picked up his sword and blocked a particularly fatal blow. The fight was incredibly dangerous. Virgil clearly meant business.

The dragon witch watched from his chair, his twisted smile never faltering. Whatever game he was playing, it was too deadly to partake in. Who was next? His smile grew as he saw Virgil’s pseudo wings form and spread out behind him. He flapped them few times and rose into the air. Roman narrowed his eyes as Virgil raised his hand, and twisted it. Two walls of shadows formed around Roman and began to crush him. He let out an anguished cry as the walls tightened. Virgil squinted his eyes, trying to crush him more.

Roman lifted an arm with an enormous amount of effort, pushing the wall back. Virgil lifted both hands and made a crushing motion, but Roman had enough of a grip and put his feet against the wall, pushing as hard as he could. The walls faltered before giving way completely and fading. Roman fell to the ground, taking a moment to breath and steady himself.

Shocked, Virgil growled and cast a dark purple fire. Roman leapt up within a matter of seconds out of the way. Panting, he ran towards Virgil and lifted his sword, ready to impale him. Virgil leapt up and flipped over Roman. He landed behind him, and thrust his sword at Roman’s back. A last second reflex saved Roman’s life as he rolled out of the way with just milliseconds to spare. Unfortunately, the blade nicked his forearm, reopening the cuts from Ne’hiah and the griffon.

Roman spun around, ducking once more to dodge another dangerous blow that left Virgil reeling. As Virgil was trying to regain his balance, Roman took his chance and sliced his sword clean through Virgil’s right wing. Virgil screamed as the injured wing faded, along with its opposite. Gripping his shoulder with his free hand, he turned to face Roman. Virgil stomped his foot on the ground, and instantly vanished in a cloud of shadows.

Roman paused for a moment, on edge. He looked around suspiciously before hearing a sudden whooshing noise and spun around. Virgil was about to attack him, but Roman jumped back. The sword sliced him in the stomach, leaving a deep, clean cut in Roman’s skin. He clutched his injured belly and delivered a blow that Virgil immediately blocked. While Virgil was distracted, Roman gripped Virgil's arm and kicked his sword hand.

Virgil yelped and let go of his sword. Immediately Virgil formed ribbons of shadows that crawled up Roman’s hand. Roman yanked his hand back, causing the tendrils to dissipate. Virgil held onto his injured hand, and made a break for his sword. Roman blocked Virgil’s path to it, taking in deep breaths. Virgil didn’t seem to calm down, and the fury in his eyes didn't falter for a moment. He held out his hand behind him, and the shadows collected in his outstretched hand to form a dagger.

Roman tried to talk to Virgil once more. “Please, I don’t want to hurt you,” he begged. Virgil shook his head to clear it and lunged at Roman, hitting him in the arm. Roman clutched it for a second before Virgil went for his other arm, and he blocked it with his sword. “I know you’re still there,” he whispered. It shattered Roman’s heart to harm Virgil in any case. And to see him hurting on the inside as well as the out… well, Roman wasn’t having a good time.

Virgil’s gaze hardened as he formed the tendrils once more, crawling up Roman’s leg, momentarily trapping him. Roman ripped his leg free and jumped away, but the shadows still crawled up him. Virgil’s face screwed with the effort of continuing the shadows’ existence without being attached to the source. They crept onto Roman’s sword arm, with Roman desperately trying to claw them away. They grabbed Roman’s sword, throwing it away.

“Virgil… I’m sorry!” Roman said frantically as Virgil walked closer. Virgil formed more shadow tendrils and trapped Roman, narrowing his eyes. Without his sword, his courage had vanished. All Roman felt… was fear. And betrayal. He stopped in front of Roman as he prepared the finishing blow. “I-I,” Roman whimpered as Virgil glared at him. The determined light in his eyes was replaced by terror and sadness. Memories flashed through Roman’s mind in the blink of an eye. Their witty banter, the nicknames, and the videos they made… Roman felt guiltier than ever for always casting Virgil as the villain. That’s not who he was. Roman knew that now. Roman shivered as he remembered all the close moments they shared too.

Virgil’s purple eyes glowed with fury and hatred. He could sense Patton and Logan on the side, watching in terror. The dragon witch sat on the edge of his throne, obviously deeply interested in what was happening. Virgil was right in front of him now, holding him close. The shadows clenching his body loosened, falling away. Virgil slowly raised his arm, holding the shadow dagger tight. Roman gathered the courage to say it. It was now or never. “Virgil… I-I’m… I lo-” There was no mistaking it- as he said it, Virgil was hesitating, but it wasn’t enough. Patton shut his eyes tight in horror, and Logan’s eyes widened in terror. Roman felt time stop for a moment as Virgil plunged the dagger right into his heart, cutting him off. Then there was nothing.

Okay I stg there’s a good explanation for all of this, stick around people, but for now all I’m saying is that I’m not at all sorry.