#;; sent through the time wound. (ooc)

[lycheebloom]

mania : short whippet of yan. shadow milk cookie (pre. corruption & post corruption)

tw : yandere shadow milk cookie, light/heavy psychological & physical manipulation, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, violence, potentially ooc

"Put your trust in me, for none will deceive you as long as I am here."

♡ You first meet him in a period where he was yet to be touched by greed and trickery. A humble cookie you were, innocently strolling amidst the streets of your home kingdom until you stumbled across him.

♡ He was nothing short of humble and truthful as the rumors had entailed—polite with a well-mannered tone and gracious in his deeds of honesty for all. As if woven by fate itself, your coincidental encounters with him grew more and more common, until a bond began to flourish. Little promises and giggles were shared, fondness bloomed between stories and tales.

♡ The man was often teased by his peers for his fondness towards you, yet he didn't mind. Unbeknownst to them, a darker truth was veiled beneath the surface. Keeping his hands clasped together with yours for just a second longer than normal, neglecting his duties at times just for another moment to bask in your presence—Ah, the list could really go on and on.. But it was alright. It was just a small, little secret. A white lie that couldn't hurt anybody. He'd shoulder the truth of this minuscule act.

♡ "(Name) Cookie, over here! I have to share with you this interesting moment that happened in the court.."

♡ And so, it would continue this way, until something changed.

♡ He began to grow less benevolent. Fatigue was evident through the eyebags his form now carried, his caring tone strained. The everlasting truth in his words withered, falsehoods spilling out from his mouth that caused chaos and harm to break out within kingdoms. Especially the one you dwelled in.

♡ As his behavior towards common cookiekind warped, so did his towards you. His actions grew obsessive, arms clinging onto you at every instance as though you would dissolve if he were to let go. Even you weren't safe from the deceit that had tore through his heart, the cookie whispering sweet lies into your ears.

♡ The well being of the other cookies didn't matter to him anymore, why should he bother? Their foolishness bound them to a terrible fate from the very start, he should've given up on them sooner. Too long had he and the other heroes tolerated their exploitation! But oh, dear you..

♡ You were an exception from his all-consuming resentment towards those that had taken advantage of him and his comrades. Poor, poor you. Having to associate with these wicked folk, such a kind soul you had...! Of course, he couldn't stand by idly and let your torment continue.

♡ "Ah—(Name) Cookie, don't struggle.. This is for the greater good, I promise you." He coaxed softly, one hand gently stroking the back of your head as the other restrained you. He would bring you salvation, away from those filthy brethren that you called your 'friends'.

♡ Yet you continued to struggle, restlessly moving as you tried to free yourself of the binds. Your resistance only complicated and extended the process of renewal, but he didn't blame you; no, he could never! The other cookies have merely brainwashed you. That must be it. You would never gaze at him with such fear in your eyes, you wouldn't tremble at his touch.

♡ Your hostility only solidified his view on the others. They were irredeemable!—Not only had they used him and the other heroes, but they even turned you against him! Outrageous!

♡ Your coldness wounded his heart, yet he didn't falter. He was sure he could break through such a silly perspective they had influenced you into.

♡ "(Name)~ Don't fight me.." He sighed, fingers benignly clasping your face when you tried to turn your head away. The cold sensation sent tremors down your spine. "I know they've conditioned you into this, but I assure you, I only want the best for you.." He cooed, pulling you in closer. An arm was firmly wrapped around your waist, as he traced small circles onto your back with his free hand.

♡ How much longer would it take until you finally gave into his advances? He pouted at the thought, opting to bury his head into your shoulder. The sweet scent of you drove him insane. Yes, everything would be just fine.. As long he had you with him.

♡ Yet his whole world crashed down on him one day. Pinned down by the fork those witches had dared to cast down on him; his vision tuned out the other forms of his friends being restrained, all he could focus on was your figure.

♡ Your disappointed frown with somber eyes. Why were you staring at him with that expression? Where are you going? Wait! No, don't go! His expression twisted into one of desperation, arms sprawling out towards your retreating figure. No, this wasn't how it was supposed to go. You.. You can't leave him here!

♡ "(Name), (Name) Cookie, wait! No, no no COME BACK! Please, please, please.. Don't go, you can't go, you're not supposed to—I need you..!"

♡ As you stopped in your steps and turned around, a glimmer of hope shone within his heart. Yet it crumbled just as fast as you looked away, continuing to walk away. Away from him. To leave him. Why? Why had you discarded him? Had he not done so much to prove his love and adoration to you..? He cast his head down, thoughts swarming his head in a frenzy.

♡ "(Name).."

♡ You were all he wanted. Why couldn't he have you?

♡ His vision went black.

.

.

♡ How long had it been? He was unsure.

♡ You continued to linger in his thoughts even after he had been trapped in the Silver Tree, becoming the only source of solace in his seemingly-endless solitude. He was uninterested in talking to his 'friends', their bond growing more strained as each day passed. He couldn't understand how he got along with them back then. Corruption seeped and curled within his being, infecting his mind and very essence. It fed on his despair and longing, clouding the last traces of lucidity and truth.

♡ He just wanted you back. He made a vow to himself.

♡ Once he has you again, he'll never let you go.

.

.

.

"Seriously, who can say no to a pinch of good old Deceit?"

♡ "Oh, finally some fresh air!" Shadow Milk Cookie exclaimed with a sigh, stretching his arms. Being in that cramped tree didn't help his joints at all, hopefully he didn't catch a case of arthritis! A wide grin was on his face as he peered down on the cookies that had been so, so stupid that they thought they could delay his arrival! He scrutinized their forms, yet his eyes lit up at a familiar sight.

♡ You.

♡ "Ah, (Name) Cookie!~♡" Shadow Milk Cookie was quick to pick you up, ignoring the screams of horror that the other pesky little cookies let out—who he presumed were your friends. Two fingers were clasped around your form, as he dangled you in the air. If he wasn't giddy before, he definitely was now.

♡ Shadow Milk Cookie smiled ear to ear, admiring your form in his clutch for a few moments further before he glanced back at your noisy friends, his smile dropping as the light in his eyes faded.

♡ He turned his gaze back towards you, his frown changing into a smile once more.

♡ "Truly, you couldn't begin to comprehend how much I've missed you!.." Shadow Milk Cookie sighed, leaning his face closer towards your tiny figure. "We have soooo much to catch up on..~" He gave an half-lidded smile.

♡ "But first.." He eyed your peers. "Let's go somewhere where these little.. 'friends' of yours won't disturb us." With a snap of his fingers, your surroundings changed.

.

♡ What.. was this place? Everywhere you looked, only strained your vision. It felt unreal, as though you were in another dimension entirely. Eyes of all azure shades stared back at you, adding to the eerie atmosphere.

♡ "Tada!~ My special little world, what do you think of it?" Shadow Milk Cookie smiled happily, placing a hand on your shoulder. You shuddered at the touch, hurriedly stepping away from the madman that you were trapped with.

♡ "Hm? Don't you know it's rude to stareeee..?" Shadow Milk Cookie tilted his head, bending it at an unnatural angle. He stepped closer towards you with every step you took back, quickly closing the distance. He latched his hand out, gently tilting your chin up.

♡ "Still resisting now are we? Oh, silly, silly (Name)..!" He broke out into giggles, then chuckles, before it warped into full-blown laughter. "Ah, your shenanigans never fail to amuse me!~" He wiped a stray tear, grinning as one of his hands pulled you into his embrace.

♡ His lips grazed over the exposed surface of your neck, biting down into soft flesh as jam spilled out from the wound—to which he quickly lapped it up, leaving a soft kiss as an apology. He only pulled back when he deemed there were sufficient marks, a smile on his face as he took in your shaky breath and unfocused gaze. You really were just the cutest..! "You see.. Time works differently in this little place I created."

♡ "Hmm.. For example, I could make it so that.. the equivalent of merely a second in the outside world could amount to a year in here! Or a decade! Or even a century, the possibilities are ENDLESS!" The pitch of his tone raised, delighting in your unnerved expression.

♡ "Anywho, what I'm trying to get across is that we have alllll the time in the world, my sweet (Name)~.." His tone dropped to a mere whisper, his smile fading as though the deceit within him was unraveling before you. Deep in his eyes swirled a whirlpool of something far darker than you could ever understand.

♡ "So let's see how long this little charade of yours will last. ♡"

♡ After all, he's waited eons for you in that damned tree. He can wait a little longer for you to break.

[celestemona]

BENEATH THE SHROUDED SKIES

pairing: kinich x fem! reader

cw: angst. main character's death. slight spoiler for 5.1' archon quest, though there's not too much to see. canon divergence. kinich may look a bit ooc here but whatever. not proof-read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

The sky above Natlan had always been a warm crimson at twilight, reflecting the flame in its people’s hearts. But now, as the Abyss cast its miasma over the land, that sky was gone, swallowed by an endless stretch of black clouds and despairing. It felt wrong—unbearably so—to Kinich, but wars had a way of twisting everything, even the heavens.

Your face was the last bright thing he had seen before the darkness came. He remembered his last moments together with you vividly: standing atop a cliff overlooking the Stadium of the Sacred Flame, where your paths would diverge. His tribe had sent him east to deliver messages and support the borders, while you had been tasked with leading a vanguard of your own people to the north. Different tribes, different duties—such was the way of Natlan’s warriors.

Your goodbye had been silent at first, both too proud, too weighed down by your duties to say what you felt. But then, with a sudden urgency, you grabbed his wrist, pulling him close. Your lips met in a desperate kiss, a promise wrapped in fire and sorrow.

“See you soon,” you whispered against his lips, though the uncertainty in your voice told him that you both knew the truth. War held no promises. Still, Kinich had nodded, his jaw tight, holding back the dread that gnawed at his heart. He had watched you walk away, your form swallowed by the horizon, not knowing it would be the last time.

Hours or even days passed, he wouldn’t know to tell. The war raged on. Reports of the dead, the missing, and the injured were relentless. Kinich fought alongside his people, cutting down the Abyss’s beasts with cold precision, each strike sharp with the promise he had made to you—to survive, to see you again. But as the time turned into a blur of battles, one thing became painfully clear: there was no word of you. No whispers of your whereabouts, no updates from your tribe. The silence cut deeper than any blade.

And then, after what felt like an eternity of fighting, Kinich returned to the Stadium of the Sacred Flame, reuniting with the others heroes.

The once-proud landmark of Natlan’s people was now surrounded by the grim faces of survivors. Xilonen stood off to the side, tending to her wounded comrades, her eyes hollow from too many losses. Mualani, usually so full of light, was eerily quiet, her usual smile replaced by a look of weary sorrow. Even Iansan, with her proud spirit, sat slumped on the edge of the arena, barely talking.

Kinich’s heart ached with unspoken fears as he scanned the horizon, hoping—begging—to see your familiar figure emerge through the smoke. But you didn’t come.

Mualani approached him, her face ashen, her hand trembling as she placed it on his shoulder. “We’re waiting for the others to arrive,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But Kinich, there’s something…”

Her words were cut off by a sudden stir in the crowd. Traveler had arrived.

Trusted by Natlan’s people, Lumine had been aiding in the fight against the Abyss, journeying between tribes, offering her strength where needed. But now, as she approached the heart of the stadium, something was different.

In her arms was a body.

Kinich’s heart stopped. He knew. He didn’t need to see the face to know.

(Y/N).

Your body was cradled gently, but there was no life left in you. Blood stained the fabric of your clothes, dirt clung to your skin, and your once-vibrant face was pale, a ghost of the warrior you had been. Lumine’s expression was solemn as she laid you down before Kinich, her eyes reflecting the weight of what she had found.

“We found her in a village,” the traveler said quietly, her voice heavy. “The Abyss was fierce there. I couldn’t make it in time. I’m truly sorry, Kinich.”

The words barely registered. Kinich knelt beside you, his hands trembling as they reached for you. You were cold—so impossibly cold. His fingers brushed the dirt from your face, and his breath hitched. There was no heartbeat, no warmth, no light in your eyes.

You were gone.

Mualani, standing beside him, looked devastated. She had always been the positive one, the one who could find hope even in the darkest of times. But now, there was nothing but raw grief in her eyes. She knelt beside Kinich, placing a hand on his shoulder. She didn’t say anything. What could she say? Her best friend was dead.

Kinich didn’t remember the last time he had cried. Had he ever? In his life as a warrior, as a survivor, tears had never been an option. However, as he knelt beside you, the woman he loved, holding your lifeless body in his arms, the tears came. Silent at first, then breaking into sobs that wracked his entire frame. His head bent low, his forehead resting against your cold skin as he wept for the promises you’d never keep, the future you would never have.

“Why…” he choked, his voice cracking. “Why didn’t I…” He couldn’t finish. The words shattered in his throat, swallowed by the weight of his grief.

Ajaw, ever so present, stood next to him. The dragon had always had something to say—cruel, biting remarks about the fragility of human life. But now, even him was silent. No words, no disdain. Just silence.

Kinich’s tears soaked into your skin as he held you closer, the world around him fading into nothing. All he could see was your face, your cold body, the life you had fought so hard to protect.

“See you soon,” you had promised. This time, however, Kinich knew. That promise would never come true.

Mualani’s hand stayed on his shoulder as Kinich wept, her own eyes filled with tears she could no longer hold back. But she let him cry, let him cling to the last shred of the person he had loved.

And in the silence that followed, the miasma of the Abyss hung heavy over Natlan, a cruel reminder of the war that had stolen so much from them all.

.

.

a/n: i don't know how to write good angst neither i do like to write angst. but this archon quest really left an impression on me. i hope you've suffered enough though i wrote this in a hurry.

[sonolynn]

Death's Grasp

request | Omg your prompts!🧎‍♀️Requesting an intense "I'll make death pry me away from you." with aegon x highborn reader?

summary | After a disturbing vision, the court's Seer fears for Aegon's life.

pairing | Aegon x Fem!Seer!Reader

tags | TW!!! Descriptions of blood, murder, and battle. Swearing, OOC Aegon, swearing, implications of sexual themes, mentions of war

w.c | 1.6 k

note(s) | This fic is out of the cannon of either the show and the book for my own sanity. Also, mixing a little bit of Norse mythology into the mix! Also, I took more of a creative liberty with this request so I hope it's okay!

____________________________________________

Aegon was screaming on the battlefield, pointing towards the field and motioning for people to run. He looked frantic. His silver-blonde hair messy with soot and blood. He was panting, almost hyperventilation as the fear and anxiety coursed through his veins like a raging flood as he sent more soldiers to their death. 

You were imobile, cursed to watch as Aegon fought freakishly messy; so different from how he normally fought. You saw it clearly now, you saw his demise before him. You watched as your lover was impaled by a sword. How convenient that it was through his back. 

As if in shock himself, Aegon looked down at the sword as he fell to his knees, holding a cupped hand underneath the blade as the blood pooled from the wound. The man behind Aegon put his foot on the king’s back, grunting as he pulled the sword from your lover's body. Blood spilled from Aegon’s mouth, causing the man to choke violently. 

Aegon looked up, straight into your eyes as he coughed out your name; a final tribute to the women he’d never see again. As he breathed your name one last time, his face fell and he slumped against the ground. 

You felt sick as the next part of your vision flashed before you, a clear vision of Aegon’s head, eyes closed and unevenly severed, held in the hand of the enemy. 

____________________________________________

You awake with a scream, holding your shaky hands over your mouth as the images of Aegon’s death stay fresh in your mind. You had had visions before, all of which had come to pass. But this one was more vivid than the others, more integral than the others.  

You breathed heavily, placing your hands in your hair and taking deep breaths to ground yourself. Your breath slowed, and your hands stopped shaking. But, the anxiety that stemmed from this vision stayed on your mind like that of the smell of a newly lit candle. 

Unable to deal with the beads of anxiety burrowing themselves in your veins, you hurriedly threw the covers off of you and rushed to Aegon. 

____________________________________________

“Aegon the Dragon Cock!” One of Aegon’s imprudent men that surrounded his inner circle shouted. You walked down the steps of the throne room, and looked around,  seeing the men and their drunken display. Aegon laughed at the notion, smiling and pointing to his friend as he bounced happily like a child seeing a new toy. 

“Yes! Yes, that one!” 

“Aegon.” You spoke softly, and the minute your face broke through the laughter of men, Aegon turned, a smile on his face. 

“My love! Don’t you agree! “Aegon the dragon cock! Isn’t it perfect…” His voice trailed off. He watched you closely, noticing your disheveled appearance and bare feet. “My love?” He was quick to dismiss his men, quickly walking down the steps of the throne to stand before you. He placed a free hand on your cheek, cocking his head to the side as he studied your expression. 

“Having fun, your grace?” Aegon rolled his eyes at the question and he gave you a look. 

“You are my betrothed, you needn’t refer to me as such.” His voice was soft, and he smiled gently at you whilst stroking your cheekbone. “What is with the look?” You stayed silent for a moment, not wishing to truly tell him the cause of your displeasure. Aegon had never truly believed in your gift; The gift to see what others didn’t. Only recently, when you had told him he would become the next king of the seven kingdoms did he acknowledge that perhaps you did have a gift. 

“...I’ve missed you.” You replied, the lie hot on your tongue. Aegon smirked at this, turning and placing his cup on a nearby table. 

“We saw each other a mere..two hours ago. Was I that good, my love?” The sight of his teasing smile, and the look on his face made you breakdown. Tears ran down your cheeks, and your hands started to shake again as you were reminded of what your vision had held within itself. 

Aegon gazed at your melancholic expression made him stop, and he paused. He quickly walked back towards you.

“Darling-” He stopped when you took a step back and held a hand out. Aegon frowned deeply and he gave you a look. “...You’ve had one of those visions, haven’t you?” 

“Yes.” 

“And it has something to do with me, I presume?” You nodded. In frustration Aegon groaned, holding a hand to his forehead as he sighed. “You and those pointless visions-” 

“They are not pointless, Aegon! They hold meaning. The gods gave me this gift-” You stopped, seeing how he was muttering the same words you were. Your face hardened. “You think this to be funny?” 

“No-well, yes a little but my love-” Aegon came to you, taking your hand in his as he sighed. “These-These visions you call them are nothing but superstition!”

“My vision is what told you about your descent to the throne!” 

“A lucky guess!” You scoffed at his words, grabbing a hold of his half buttoned up shirt as you glared. 

“Why do you think my suffering funny, Aegon?!” Aegon’s face softened, and he sighed. He gently grabbed your wrist, giving you a kind look as he brought your hand up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles, before he breathed out your name slowly. You stopped, hearing him say your name in such a manner reminded you of that awful vision. 

“I do not find your suffering funny. I find your incessant need to base your superstitions off of pure nightmare’s-” He spoke faster as you started to pull away from him. You avoided his gaze, clenching your jaw. You knew the look he was giving you, one of sympathy that you did not wish to see right now. 

“Tell me what you saw, sweet girl.” He came to you again, slipping a hand behind your head and holding it in his grasp as he looked down at you. He desperately tried to meet your eyes, but you were insistent on pulling away from him and his gaze. 

“You’ll think me silly.” 

“Come now, I think you silly no matter what vision you tell me of.” He smiled, though, even as he joked you couldn’t get the image of his death out of your mind. Tears started to fill your gaze, and you pulled away.

 “Sweet girl, stop pulling away from me!” He pleaded, grabbing your arms in a futile attempt to make you stop moving. You pulled your arms up, your fists resting on his chest. He breathed out your name again and that is what did it for you; what made you break.

“I saw your death, Aegon!” You yelled, which indirectly caused the drastic movement of back and forth between the two of you to stop. Aegon stared down at you, his eyes hardening and his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I saw you…not much older than you are now. You were on the battlefield, and..you…” You trailed off, refusing to revisit the gruesome and sickening vision. 

Aegon watched you, he had seen you and your reactions to these visions before but this…this was new. The look of fear that crossed your features and the tears that filled your eyes made his heart break. He could barely handle you when you woke from one of these visions normally, but these looks and the unease that settled on your face caused his mind to go blank. 

“My sweet girl, no-” “Yes Aegon! Do you not get it! You will die and you will die at the hands of your enemies with no one around you and your head will be taken-”

“My head?” 

“-And-And you’ll be scared and I won’t be there-” 

“My love-” 

“You’ll die and you’ll leave me alone, Aegon!” You screamed. At those last words, Aegon suddenly grabbed your face, making you look at him. His own eyes held tears of his own, and he grasped your face with little strength so as to not hurt you. Your eyes widened, and you watched him closely as he maintained a fierce look in his gaze. 

“I will not leave you-” You started to pull away, crying. You always knew Aegon was a fool, but a fool to this extent? You almost wanted to laugh. 

“Not even you can defy death, Aegon!” He looked almost offended at your words. Offended that you think he would just let death take him away from you. His hands grew tighter on your cheeks, locking your eyes again as he leaned forward and pushed his forehead against yours. He took a breath, steadying the anger in his voice before he spoke. 

“I’ll make death pry me away from you.” He spoke softly, his voice slipping with emotion as he leaned forward and kissed you. And you let it happen. 

You enjoyed the kiss, letting nothing but Aegon and his lips consume your thoughts. It was nice, for a while. The notion that a mere mortal could defy the will of the gods. You knew that visions could change, and you sure to gods hoped this one would change. But, for now, you were happy to just bask in his arms and be with him. 

When Aegon pulled away he looked down at you. As you went to speak he shook his head and smirked a bit.

“Don’t speak.” He whispered, and you obeyed. The two of you stood in the middle of the throne room, Aegon’s hands holding your face and grounding you from your anxious thoughts, and you let him. You stayed in his arms, letting him kiss your face and your lips softly until you no longer thought of his death; until you only thought of him.

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Solnyshko - Natasha Romanoff x gn!Reader

A/N: I really really wanted to write a small thing for Natasha, so here we are. I set this in a 2012ish era, which is why the Avengers live at the Tower and such. I might do something more with this Reader and their powers in a future story as well.

Also, solnyshko means little sun in Russian. It’s the only potentially gendered language in the fic

Dividers by @/whimsicalrogers

CW: fluff, language, soft Natasha, Natasha speaks Russian, Reader is a former SHIELD agent, Reader has powers, failed missions, mentions of blood and injury, very very light angst, a forehead kiss, soft ending, probably ooc Natasha

640 words

“Hey, Nat,” you greet the red-haired Avenger with a sleepy smile. “Early morning, huh?”

“Good morning, solnyshko.” Natasha smiles back at you, handing you a cup of tea. “I should be saying that to you. You look like you’re still half-asleep.”

You laugh and rub the back of your neck, taking a sip of your drink. “I feel like it. I dunno how you can do early morning missions. I feel like shit.”

Natasha just smiles and pulls out a seat for you at the table.

You’re a former SHIELD agent. One of Barton’s old teammates. You’ve known Natasha since the day she joined.

Now you’re an unofficial member of the new team. The big team. You deal with the remnants of SHIELD for them and they help you train your powers.

You don’t have anything really special. No magic or anything. But your light powers come in handy for making illusions and you’ve been called in several times to help out with Loki when he comes to Earth. So all in all, you’re not complaining.

You take a seat at the table and enjoy the bits of morning you have. You’re leaving in an hour and you want to savor your last moments with the team.

Well, the members of the team who are up. Cap comes in before his morning run, but doesn’t stick around for long. Tony passes through briefly to grab a cup of coffee. The others, you know they won’t be up for another couple of hours at least.

So you enjoy your morning with Natasha. It’s been a while since you and her chatted, and you enjoy the conversation.

Eventually your time is up.

“Wish me luck,” you tell her with a wry smile.

She laughs and gives you a fond look. “You’ll do great. You’re our best, after all.”

You laugh at that and head on out.

Your return isn’t nearly as happy or cheerful.

The mission was a failure. Despite your best efforts, your target got the jump on you and shot you four times. You’d barely made the journey back, your wounds bleeding profusely.

By the time you’re sent to the medbay, you’re woozy with loss of blood. Your steps are sluggish and you lean against the wall for support.

There’s a voice calling your name. Then arms sliding under you, scooping you up.

There’s hair as red as blood brushing against your face. And then your eyes shut.

When you open them again, you’re in your room at the Tower. Your body aches like hell, but you can feel all your limbs.

You shift your arm, your muscles groaning in protest. Still, you force yourself up a bit, before a hand on your shoulder stops you.

“You gotta lie down.” It’s Natasha, looking rather tired and weary. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Fuck the doctor,” you mutter, trying to get up further.

Natasha gently pushes you back down. “Not the time, solnyshko.”

You don’t resist further. Instead, you sigh and stare up at the ceiling. “The mission failed.”

“It wasn’t your fault. We had bad intel.” She toys with the sleeve of your shirt. “Our inside man was a double agent.”

“Still. I could’ve done better.”

She gently flicks your forehead. “Don’t play that game. You did what you could. Getting shot like that would put anyone out of commission.”

You look at her. At her red-as-blood hair. “Even you?”

She smiles faintly. “Even me.”

It makes you feel a bit better and you nod. “Thanks.”

She leans in and kisses your forehead. “Always.”

A yawn overtakes you and you groan softly. Natasha laughs a little. “Go back to sleep. Your wounds need time to heal.”

You yawn again and nod, letting your eyes close. “Goodnight, Nat.”

Her fingers find yours and she gives your hand a light squeeze. “Goodnight, solnyshko. Sweet dreams.”

[iztwt]

Theatrics

paring: vlad dracula tepes x afab!reader

cws!: shameless sex. blood drinking. biting. mentions of breeding. slight daddy kink.

a/n: i haven’t watched alot of castelvania. - but i do main him in dbd -

so i apologise in advance in dracula seems slightly ooc.

your vision was blurry and your head spinning beyond belief, the only coherent thought you could just about muster would probably be about was him.

the very man fucking you as you knew it; the man who was the one currently sinking his teeth into the base of your neck. dracula.

your face was flushed past recognition as you clung onto his wide shoulders as if your life depended on it. a small yelp being ripped from your lips as you felt his fangs dragging back from you and then digging back in just below your carotids.

“ d..drac, careful..” you stammered sheepishly, keeping your head buried in his shoulder as he continued to rock into you at a thoughtful yet quick pace, each throt of his hips sending a sudden shock through your system.

he merely grunted in acknowledgment to your timid words, his fangs still scraping against your shoulder and neck, licking up every drop of blood that trickled out from the wounds he had left.

normally you’d be receiving sweet and encouraging words with each thrust but there would be those special few times where vlad wanted more than sex. he was hungry and he wanted you in every way shape or form.

practically intoxicated by the thought of breeding you, he was relentless about using it as dirty talk but this time was different - he was focused, transfixed on the thought, the mere knowledge that he could make it happen whenever he wanted and apparently then was now.

your eyes welled up with tears a few times throughout as you clung onto him, timing your breathing with his thrusts which were oddly rhythmic. he cooed a few sweet nothings here and there if he knew he was getting too rough or if he had caused you to squirm a bit more than normal.

but your eyes were still blurred as you mindlessly watched the sheets beneath you through a half lidded gaze as if they’d do something.

suddenly he hoisted you back and pinned you down amongst the many pillows decorating your bed. His eyes studying your every move as he kept a firm but gentle grip on your chin, forcing you to face him.

“ look at me my darling.. i want to see you as I breed you.”

*his words sent a shiver down your spine as he continuously rutted into you, your eyes unconsciously shutting due to the emense pleasure that was shooting throughout your entire body.

It simply felt too good, especially since you felt yourself drawing closer and closer to your own release. dracula caught on almost immediately, his eyes still studying your form as he watched it become more and more errotic.

“ eyes on daddy beloved..” he whispered to you, grunting softly to himself as a familiar burning sensation made itself known in the pit of his stomach.

you cracked your eyes back open and gave a small gulp as you locked eyes with your husband once again.

he then enlocked your lips again, sloppily kissing you before you felt his hips splutter forward against yours and spilling his load into you.

a deep sigh left his lips as he slipped his eyes shut, running his clawed fingertips through your hair.

You both laid there in silence for a few moments your breaths still ragged as you tried to catch it again.

afterwards you both ended falling asleep with vlad still within you, you laid atop his chest as he acted as your mattress with his arms wrapped around you.

[tomurawr44]

TOMURA SHIGARAKI HEADCANONS! (2/3)

okay my last one recieved alot of love and I'm so happy for that 🖤 send in yall's reqs please, sorry if this is kind of ehh and the timelines are weird.

WARNINGS: spoilers, OOC tomura maybe, dating hcs, gn!reader

unlike all the tiktok hcs I've been seeing around, he's not the perfect boyfriend but he's not absolutely evil towards his partner. no he would not hit you, he doesn't even hit any of the league, why would he treat his partner any differently?

for villains/allies

he will treat you like a member of the league, but he trusts you more, obviously, he'll come to you for an opinion on his plan and he will trust your judgement, although not all the time. just don't do it infront of other members, he'll get pissed and sulk about it.

when you get harmed on a mission, he'll voice his concern by calling you an idiot for getting yourself hurt, and he'll call whoever hurt you an idiot for harming what he cared about.

he really is absolutely down bad hates you, he hates the way you make him feel so..vulnerable, and he hates the way you care about him so much, why are you kissing his bruises and wounds? he can bandage himself by himself, don't act all smartass when he gets hurt, you got hurt not too long ago too! he hates all of it! but in the end, he'll crawl into your arms just to hold you, even if it's just by your clothes, or it's you holding him, he'll grumble about how stupid it is before he presses closer against you.

he loves watching you fight or just be in your element, combat based? your his personal bodyguard now. you're kinda like skeptic where he's mostly computer based? he loves to watch and cover for you, it makes him feel like he's in a game or movie.

during the time Kurogiri was captured and sent away, that was the time you kind of saw him spiral a little, not in a manic way just in a way where he was forced to mature so suddenly and it took him a little bit to get used to it, so please be there for him.

during the overhaul arc, you were his righthand (person), there to intimidate and speak alongside him to try and get him to be mature around overhaul. luckily though that fell through.

and then, when the MLA arc started, thats when he feared for you, he knew that you were capable of protecting yourself but it wasn't so secret to the public that you were very close with him. mostly just being called 'Tomura Shigaraki's partner' or something alongs the lines of that, and he had a feeling they were going to try and target you to get information or get under his skin.

it didn't happen though, and you two ruled the PLA together and everyone was afraid of you🖤

during the months leading up to his surgery, it's up to you how you feel about it but you're worried, obviously. who wouldn't be? it was scary.

after his surgery and he obtains AFO, it kind of feels like you lost touch with him, as though he's a completely different person and it's just..off. when you find out AFO is controlling him though, somewhat like what happened during the final endings of the chapters, you're able to connect with him and try and soothe him from the inside out, even if you know it won't do much with AFO in the way.

for civilian s/o (pre USJ/15-18yr old tomura)

it was a wonder that you two got together, you'd have to be the one to approach him first though, places i think you'd be able to spot him in are the arcade, the mall, the gameshop, a 24hr place, computer cafes or hanging around different bars.

he won't be the one to confess first, actually, there won't be a confession, he kind of just thought you two became official somewhere along the way due to how close you two have become.

AFO does not approve of you, he sees you as a source of love and care that he does not want tomura to have distraction and he's torn because he does like you but he also values his master more. so once AFO finds out, he'll become distant :(

but in the end, he might end up lying or trying to brush you off whenever you become a subject between him, Kurogiri and AFO.

he hasn't done anything criminal yet so he usually tells Kurogiri he's going to the mall when in reality he's heading to you .

please just love this man. he needs it, please be patient with his bratty bullshit and show him your not gonna leave no matter what. he might throw temper tantrums but just hold him, kiss his fingers and watch him try and close off but your just too warm for his cold heart.

he's whipped, he doesn't really say i love you though, you have to say it alot otherwise he'll sulk. (he never says it back)

he tends to express his thankfulness/love language through acts of service, quality time and gift-giving. he's scared to touch you, if he disintegrates the only person to actually make him feel normal, what then? what becomes of him?

contrary to some, he's actually very insecure. like, he tries to put it off but he just hates how he looks in general, please praise him, tell him how handsome he is. he doesn't know how he's able to date someone like YOU. he doesn't consider himself as someone to take a second glance at, not even decent because of all his itchies, he doesn't tend to dwell on it but when he does, you can tell.

he never lets you sleep in the same bed as him, for obvious safety reasons but he loves watching you rest. seeing how peaceful you are wrapped up in his blankets, he loves it. sometimes while a game is taking a long time to load, queue, or install, he'll just watch you. call him creepy (please don't) but he has a bunch of pics of you sleeping.

he loves your hair, he loves smelling you, if you use scented things, he loves running his hands carefully through your hair and watching as his fingers disappear into the strands. he loves it when you do the same to him and scritch scritch here and there on him.

speaking of scratching, kissing his neck or face whenever he tries to itch them almost makes the feeling for him drop instantly, not so much but it shocked him the first time you did it.

he loves watching you laugh and smile, doesn't matter if it's about something stupid, it makes him smile too oddly enough.

to date him you have to go through the trials of mamagiri and AFO, get ready to be interrogated when he goes to the bathroom or god forbid you stay for dinner. Kurogiri will be TALKING. (In mhoj2, Kurogiri's a big talker, as in he has voicelines a minute or so long.)

he will tell you his real name if he trusts you enough (AFO does mention his real name to him when he first picked him up so im pretty sure he knows it.)

he's just a sad wet cat please love this crusty munch.

—Ake 2024

[blvdheart]

life is beautiful, but you don’t have a clue

⇢ getting all bruised up and battered with minimum medical aid from the government is brutal. leon doesn’t believe he deserves to be helped, though. after months of hiding these moments of vulnerability from you, he lets finally lets you in, knowing deep down that you wouldn’t turn him away

cw: fem!reader, established relationship, leon’s alcohol dependency and low self-worth, religious guilt, attempts to hide depression, brief description of wounds, angst, comfort and reassurance, patching him up, small snippet with chris, 3.2k wc

note: i promise there’s more to me than just writing ooc smut for him 😞 i rewatched vendetta and omg i want to hug him so bad. (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) i’m not sure if the small font is too straining on the eyes, if it is, lmk!! i’ll change it back to the regular sized one. if you see typos, no you didn’t

divider below is by @/cafekitsune!!

just how many confessionals and assigned prayers would it take for leon to be forgiven for all his wrong doings? probably more than he could keep track of. then again, he hasn’t clasped his hands together and recited a muttered chant for redemption in ages. the belief in a savior dissipated alongside his naive outlook in life once upon a time.

he had laid on a cold hard mattress for hours in the infirmary made specifically for DSO agents. the nurses didn’t give him much care, though. he was patched up, prescribed some pain killers, and sent home. the recovery period was over a month long, but he knew he wouldn’t actually be granted that much rest before he had to be back in action.

two broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder. he’s dealt with those same conditions time and time again, but it never got any easier, especially as he got older. he was busy basking in his misery, longing for only two things: the bitter taste of alcohol on his tongue, and his girlfriend’s soothing presence.

he tried to keep this part of him hidden, he was ashamed. he had already opened up to you about his job, and how he would be away for long periods. what he didn’t tell you was that those said long periods usually included his recovery, so you didn’t have to see him all broken and battered. he usually kept all the lights in his house off even when the evening approached, so you wouldn’t know he was back in town if you happened to drive by his place.

the two of you had gotten together a year and a half ago, and he used to be more…stable. he feared you’d up and leave him if you found out how bad it had gotten for him.

but the thing is, he knew you would take care of him. your love for him was unconditional, and he didn’t know whether to be grateful for it or to feel sorry for you. after all, he was known to have occasional outbursts of irritation, being on edge from all his baggage and his frequent doses of hard liquor. but he wasn’t a bad man, he just needed some TLC.

he could nurse his good ol’ mind numbing beverages stored coldly in his fridge all he wanted, but it wouldn’t make him feel any better. in fact, his self-hatred only grew once he found himself depending on alcohol. in his head, he chose to rely on a drink to feel a buzz. in reality, that was far from the truth. a man like him was drowning in the depths of his baggage. PTSD, survivor’s guilt, and alcohol didn’t mesh well.

it was you who kept him sane, really.

you were the skin-kissing sun after a harsh thunderstorm, like a balm to his traumatized and guilt ridden soul. you saw him for who he was, the selfless and love-yearning man he had always been, not a grouchy killing-machine like some people started to view him as of late.

even when he was overseas, your love always managed to reach him.

it was those heartfelt text messages and voicemails he often received that made him tread through his missions carefully, he knew there was someone back home worth living for.

voicemails:

“hi leon! i know you said you might not have internet connection over there or that your phone might break but…um…i dunno, there’s a chance you’ll hear this, so might as well, right? i really miss you. i was procrastinating during my job the other day, yeah boo me…but i made a list of some movies we can watch when you’re back in town. maybe you can come over and we can cuddle on my couch all night, hehe. anyway, i hope you’re okay. i really don’t want you to get hurt or anything. call me when you fly back in?”

“oh shit, is this voicemail? [incoherent mumbling] uh, okay yeah. hi leon, i’m at rite aid right now. i don’t wanna sound nosy but i saw some of the bloodied medical tape you left in my trash and…and i just got worried and wondered if you needed anything? maybe you didn’t want to concern me but, tell me next time okay? let’s see…there’s a lot of different brands, i dont know which one you’d like. call me back ASAP, i’m gonna stay here for a bit longer just in case you do. bye, i love you!”

“okay i figured you wouldn’t pick up. i know it’s like four am but i just woke up and my dream was about us! it went like…like…oh shit. i think i forgot already, bummer!” silence, and some hums. “i literally just had the dream like five seconds ago and i can’t remember it anymore. i’m pissed! anyway, see you tomorrow? or today, technically. bye!”

messages:

found this meme and it reminded me of you…wait do you even know what a meme is? ha, loser

here’s the link to the letterboxd website i told you about earlier!

come overrrr, i’m off work at 8 today. unless my asshole of a coworker shows up late again, ugh

you left your jacket at my house, it’s mine now!!!

not sure if you fell asleep already but please text me back when you can and when you’re sober. ik we just had an argument but we should talk it over, i want everything to be okay between us, i love you. you’re not mad at me are you??

replaying those sweet voicemails was like a remedy, providing such raw tenderness that nothing else in the universe could. you were the epitome of an angel walking the earth, keeping him from falling into the pits of hell by visiting his dreams whenever fell asleep all splayed out on his floor with an empty bottle by his side. it should be you snuggled against him instead, on a bed.

while you gave leon all your sweet love, there were other people working behind the scenes, dishing out some tough love to leon. like chris, who had hit rock bottom once and didn’t want leon to fall prey to the same thing.

“and how about your girl? you really think she’ll want to deal with you being like this all the time?” chris asked, his voice more agitated than mad. he wasn’t angry, just worried and wanting to push the truth into leon’s head. he had found leon sitting on his ass with a drink too many times to be considered a brief stress relief.

“leave her outta this.” leon scoffed, turning off his phone (he had been staring at his wallpaper that was a picture of you.) “i don’t let her see this side of me.”

“side? leon, it’s not just a side. it’ll consume you whole. what happens when it becomes your whole life, huh? what happens when you start disappearing all the time?”

“get off my ass, chris.” leon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to not lash out. “i came here for some peace and quiet, not for you to nag at me like you’re my mother.”

“i’m not trying to–” chris cut himself off, unsure of how to get across to leon. leon was absolutely miserable, the only time chris saw some hope in his eyes was whenever he soberly rambled about you. “i’m just saying that you’ve got a good thing going for you, and i don’t want you to ruin it by not trying to get better.”

silence, so chris spoke up again. “she cares about you. so try to care about yourself too, okay? i’ve been there, i see myself in you. i know it’s not your fault that you’ve turned to alcohol. but, let her in, let her help.”

leon looked down at his glass, watching his own reflection, some guilt burning in his gut. he hung his head a bit, looking like a kitten that had just gotten in trouble. he knew chris was right.

maybe this once, he could break the cycle of hiding and cowering. his throat felt dry as he reached for his phone, wincing a bit at the shock of pain the movement caused.

his fingers struggled to tap his cracked screen, the brightness of it making his nose scrunch and eyes squint. eventually, he found the phone app, you were at the top of his list, and he dialed.

…

“leon!! hi, hold on, lemme turn my TV off, i was watching a podcast.” and surely enough, he could hear the background noise lower until it was gone completely and your heavenly voice was filling his ears again. “okay, done. i can’t believe you’re calling, i’ve been waiting all week! how are you? not hurt or anything, i hope? need me to pick you up from the airport or?”

his lips twitched, threatening to turn into a small smile at your bombardment of questions. but he bit it back, feeling undeserving of such happiness. your voice overpowered the weak buzzing of his fan and the wind that rusted outside.

“uh, no.” his voice sounded hoarse, so he tried to clear it. “i’m actually at home, was wondering if you could come over? i…kind of need some help. only if you can, i don’t want to bother you.”

the silence that lingered made him feel tense, his heart pumping so loud that the noise reached his ears. then he heard some shuffling over the phone, as well as some keys jingling.

“be there in fifteen.”

it was just like you to drop everything to help someone else, no questions asked (at least not yet.) god, he loved you.

his world had felt muted before you, devoid of any color and saturation. but every time you he thought of you, suddenly colors were blooming as if he was a blank canvas and your paintbrush strokes were bringing him to life and giving him a purpose.

waiting fifteen minutes felt like an hour, maybe because he was counting down the time on his fucked up lock screen. the numbers looked wonky, he could barely make them out. his watch was broken too, no luck there. having no concept of time, even for a moment, felt weird.

he eventually heard his front door lock twisting. he had given you a spare key just in case, he trusted that you would never snoop through his things or take advantage of that privilege.

“um, hello? leon?” you sounded worried.

“god, it’s dark in here…” you then mumbled, splaying your hand against the wall and searching for his light switch. a couple seconds later and bingo, the sudden bright light left you disoriented for a while.

“i’m on the couch. just…don’t say anything, please?”

your brows furrowed at his request, and you rushed on over, your shoes thudding against his wooden floor. surely enough, there he was, laying on his back with agony written on his features. he had his leather jacket off, his arms having nips and tears all over. small ones, at least, but still collectively all painful.

“oh leon…” a worried mutter fell from your lips, and you kneeled down, the harshness of the hard cold floor not even registering because you were too engrossed in him.

you didn’t want to cry in front of him, not when he was the one suffering. but the pain you felt in your chest for seeing your sweetheart look so defeated just had you getting a bit teary. leaning forward, you planted a kiss on his forehead, your hand raising to stroke the crown of his head. his hair was a bit knotted.

he leaned into your touch like a puppy, letting out a pleased sigh. your affection felt like a gift in a bow after the way he had been slammed around by infected enemies earlier.

“what happened? i—“ okay, he said no questions. you could save the context seeking ones for later, but you did have to know what was wrong. “where are you hurt?”

he didn’t dare look into your eyes, knowing that it would break him. he was looking down further at your neck though, so his gaze was at least on you.

“everywhere.” he managed to croak out with a dry chuckle. um, not helping. “if we’re talking specifics though, the doc told me i broke two ribs on my left side. i also dislocated my left shoulder, they put it back into place but um…y’know, it still hurts like hell.”

after taking a breath to compose yourself, you nodded and stood up. “okay. do you have an ice pack?”

leon nodded. “in my freezer.”

you went off to fetch it, also taking one of leon’s small kitchen towels and wrapping it around the ice pack before placing it onto the coffee table. then, you went to his bedroom, getting two of his pillows and the first aid kit in his bedside drawer.

his eyes lit up when you returned. you were so nurturing it made him want to sob into your arms. but he’d open up to you one step at a time, one day at a time.

“can you…can you try sitting up just a bit? you’re supposed to be a bit propped up.”

well, that wasn’t the worst he’s had to do with a broken rib. he could manage. with a grunt of pain, leon slowly propped himself up, giving you some time to slide the two pillows in.

“there we go.” with a small smile, you couldn’t resist but place another kiss against his forehead. it made him feel good, it was like all your gestures were doses of ibuprofen.

the coldness of the icepack had seeped into the towel. and you gently applied it to his left side, your eyes lifting to meet his face to watch for any indicators you might be hurting him.

“down or up?” you asked him, moving the ice pack up further. he hadn’t told you which ribs had been broken, after all.

“down, please.”

you hummed, moving it back down and letting it rest there.

“how do you know so much about this?” he asked. sure, an icepack was probably a no brainer but you seemed so sure of yourself by making him sit up more.

“google works wonders.” you shrugged alongside your answer. “i just figured some knowledge on the most common injuries would be good for me to learn since your job is pretty dangerous. call me psychic but i saw this in my future.”

some brief moments of quietness washed over afterwards, making him feel unsettled. were you angry because he had often kept his bedridden moments from you? he couldn’t tell.

“i’m sorry.” his apology hung in the room, every one of his nerves feeling on edge.

but it was your warm and gentle touch on his face that had him crawling out of his low self-worth and into reality. a reality where someone loved and cherished all parts of him from his darkest to brightest days. you.

“what are you sorry for?” your question was spoken through a whispered tone of voice. “you’re out here risking your life and saving people whose names you don’t even know, yet you’re apologizing?”

you kneeled down again so you could be closer to him, stroking the side of his face with your knuckles. “i wish you had told me, but i think i can understand why you didn’t. i don’t want you to feel like you have to hide this from me. you know i’m here for you.”

“i…i know.” he didn’t doubt how much you cared for him, but it was hard to feel like he deserved someone as great as you. what did he have to offer?

“c’mon, look at me.” you pleaded, having taken note of the way his pretty blue eyes hadn’t met yours even once.

he blinked, his eyes darting around a bit. he bit his bottom lip nervously before releasing it. it was only when he felt your hand slide down to hold his that he finally mustered the courage looked into your eyes.

he looked broken, but willing. a small glimmer in his eyes that begged for devotion and comfort, for his angel to continue guiding him even when he lost his path. to not be cast aside like he was replaceable. he couldn’t leave his job or the hell that was his life even if he wanted to, but you made life worth living.

you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “i love you, leon. through sickness and health.”

you couldn’t suppress the desire to kiss him yet again, this time scattering them all over his face. your affection brought a surge of joy over him.

the wedding vow reference made him crack a grin. he chuckled a bit even though it caused his injured body discomfort. “i love you too.”

“did you think i wouldn’t help you?”

while you asked the question, your eyes skimmed over his body. his clothes were nipped at, the tears revealing some patches of his skin that had dried up blood or that were bruised. geez. you just wanted to cling to him, but you knew that would only strain him.

“i knew you would.” he began, watching as you stood up and disappeared back into the kitchen. he could hear the sink running. “i didn’t want you to spend your time looking after me, you have your own life to live. you shouldn’t have to babysit me.”

you came back with a wet towel, using it to clean up the dirt and blood on his arms, making sure to be gentle.

“babysit you? that’s not what it’s called, leon. i’m taking care of you, is all. i know you’d do the same and be even more stubborn about it.”

his eyes were trained on you, appreciating the concentration you held while cleaning him up. like a feather, your nimble fingers only left fleeting sensations against his skin. so delicately and tenderly, you treated him.

“yeah, i probably would. thank you.”

“don’t mention it.”

you spent the next twenty minutes disinfecting all his open injuries and putting gauzes over them, making some conversation but keeping it light since you needed to focus. there was more of a sparkle in his eyes than before, you had patched him up both physically and emotionally.

“how’re you feeling?”

“better. can’t say i’ll be able to walk properly tomorrow, though.”

“you need lots of rest to recover. you should sleep.”

and he was fucking tired, having stayed up all day. his body had been on fight-or-flight mode so many times that it had exhausted all his emergency energy. and initially he was sure his injuries wouldn’t let him rest, but you were here now, watching over him.

“yeah, i should.” he agreed with you. “will you…will you be here when i wake up?”

okay. you felt warm inside, he was opening up to you, allowing you to stay by his weakened side. “of course. and the day after tomorrow, and the day after that, and um, you get the point.”

you lifted a hand to rub at his temples, alleviating the headache he had. leon groaned contentedly, his long eyelashes fluttering as his eyes shut. he could feel some drowsiness kicking in already.

“i could get used to this.”

“mhm, just go to sleep.” you voice was getting quieter and quieter in his mind, when’s the last time he fell asleep this quickly? maybe when he was 20. last time he had a broken rib, he didn’t get a wink of sleep.

maybe life was constantly testing him, disrupting his peace at every turn, seeping into all the crooks and nannies. but he found his person, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his days with, the one who reminded him of how valuable his life and accomplishments were.

yeah, he could see his future, alright. one where he only picked up a bottle of beer during celebrations, one where he could be tangled up with you and be doted on without feeling guilt.

and it was sooner than later that those thoughts would be fulfilled.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 8

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, vomiting, child injury, allusions to gunshot wound, pregnancy complications A/N: Okay, this one turned out to be a monster. My brain is fried so any mistakes I made, I'll fix later. I really really hope Daryl isn’t OOC here. I tried to put myself in his shoes, knowing what I know about him. Anyway! On with the show!

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

You stayed closer to the RV while the group had gathered around Carol to provide support. While you wanted desperately to be there for her, you couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of guilt. Your baby was safe inside your belly while her Sophia was lost in the forest. 

Rick had dispatched the two walkers that had scared the little girl into running, but found her missing when he returned. He had since taken Daryl, Glenn, and Shane back into the trees. Daryl was a tracker and a damn good one. If anyone stood a chance at finding her, it was him. 

“You okay?” 

You startled from your thoughts to see Andrea staring down at you with concern etched onto her face. You must really look like shit. You had completely forgotten about food and water along with the items you had gathered once you and Daryl had made it back to find that Sophia had disappeared. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” You didn’t sound very convincing even to your own ears. You were still dizzy with a trembling in your limbs that just would not subside. Your stomach was still uneasy. When wasn’t it uneasy, actually?

“You’re looking a little pale. Can I get you anything?” She laid a hand against the RV and leaned into it. 

“Some water, if they found any?” Your voice was so gravelly, your mouth dry. Your lips felt as if they’d split open should you smile. 

“Yeah! Shane found a ton! One second!” 

Then she was off! You didn’t have the energy to track her movements, instead deciding to place your forehead against your knees. You truly did feel horrible. If this was what women called the joys of pregnancy, you would pass, thank you very much, and just get handed the baby. 

“Here.” Reluctantly, you raised your head, finding a plastic cup at eye level. With a minute nod, you sipped slowly at the cold drink. It felt like heaven on your parched throat. “When’s the last time you ate?”

“Huh?” You were absolutely abstracted. When she asked again, you really had to stop and think. “I guess at the CDC.”

“Oh, hun. That’s not good. Let me see what I can find for you.” Andrea began to turn but stopped when you laid a hand on her arm. 

“I really don’t think I can stomach anything. Everything makes me sick.” You ran a hand through your hair, grimacing when your fingers became trapped by some knotted stands. You had eaten the candies Carol had given you with only mild relief. There was not a second of reprieve from your stomach attempting to crawl out of your throat. 

“You need nutrients. For the baby.” She urged, crouching down in front of you. 

“I know. Maybe I can try when they find Sophia and we can go back to the normal amount of fear and anxiety.” One side of your mouth lifted into a ghost of a smile when you heard her chuckle. 

“Okay. But let me know if you change your mind.”

“Thank you. I will.”

Glenn and Shane returned first, the former handing out tasks to keep everyone busy. Most likely trying to control panic. You were no exception. The man sent you to grab the things you had found. You didn’t hesitate to inform him there was too much to retrieve on your own. 

“You’ll just have to make trips then, won’tcha? He scoffed, turning away and leaving no room for argument. 

You still wanted to show how useful you could be but you felt like hammered shit. The dizziness and trembling remained, and your ass met the pavement once you had arrived back to your treasure pile. There was no way you were coming back out there again. Listening for any signs of danger, you began to consolidate. Only the most useful things were placed in the suitcase, the remainder left on the ground. Zipping up the thing, you were beyond grateful for the wheels. 

Daryl and Rick had returned by the time you made it back. Sophia was not with them. Carol was in hysterics. Honestly, you weren’t sure that she had ever left the mindset. It didn’t take any persuading for you to relinquish the bed in the RV to her that night. 

Come morning, weakness and exhaustion were a suffocating blanket wrapped tightly around you. You wanted to stay there and sleep but that wasn’t even remotely an option. Not while Sophia was out there. 

Everyone was issued a weapon. You were given a second knife and holster, this one taking up residence on your hip. Only Shane, Rick, and Daryl were carrying firearms. Some bogus bullshit about everyone else needed to be trained. You were trained. However, there was no use arguing and you felt too horrible to engage in a losing battle. 

“What’re ya doin’?”

You lifted your head to find Daryl glaring at you. “My taxes. What’s it look like?” You replied with an over exaggerated roll of your eyes. 

“Ya ain’t goin’.” His tone left no room for negotiation. Unfortunately for him, there was no way you could care less. 

“Not asking permission, Dixon.” You made to walk by him but he caught your arm in passing. With a stern look at his hand on your bicep, you hissed “let go.”

“Nah, ya need to stay here.”

“I can take care of myself.” 

“Ain’t you m’worried ‘bout.” He shot a pointed look at your stomach. 

You snatched your arm free. “That’s sweet, but again, I’m not asking your permission.” It was getting easier and easier to walk away from him. You weren’t so sure that was a good thing. 

Andrea and Dale were engaged in what appeared to be a heated conversation as you passed by. You had an inkling on what it was about but it was none of your business. It was Andrea��s choice and she felt it had been taken from her. You could sympathize, recalling the helplessness you had felt when Jenner closed those doors. You and the blonde were on opposite ends of that spectrum. You had wanted desperately to live while she had been ready to die. 

The group had already crossed the guardrail and entered the trees with you and Andrea pulling up the rear in a jog until you caught up. While she continued forward, you chose to hang back. Daryl had taken the lead, constantly scanning for footprints or other disturbances that could possibly indicate Sophia had been through the area. You could have helped him, but it would likely not be well received given he had rebuffed the idea of you being there in the first place. 

“Stop lagging behind.” Shane grumbled at you, halting his steps until you passed him. “Shouldn’t even be here.” You weren’t sure if he had meant for you to hear him. Nor were you sure of his reasoning. Because you were a stranger? Because you were pregnant? Regardless, you let it slide. You were there to help find Sophia. 

Your steps remained steady which meant Lori had slowed her own while talking with Carl. Yet another conversation you had no right to hear, but you did offer a tight smile in passing. You ended up behind Glenn, absently comfortable with that. He had said the least to you but when he did speak, he was kind. 

It wasn’t much further before Daryl gave a signal to slow. When he lowered into a crouch everyone followed suit, including you. The transition left you dizzy and leaning forward to place a palm on the dirt in order to maintain your balance. The all too familiar twist and cramp of your stomach signaled the impending purge. Maybe you should have stayed behind. 

Your steps were silent as a ghost. You retreated from the group, backtracking as far as you safely could alone before you no longer had control. All the water you had managed to drink splashed onto the dirt, leaving you once again empty. You were going to die from starvation or dehydration at this point. It was a terrifying reality. The only option would be to find a pharmacy and seek out something for nausea. But what was safe to take during pregnancy?

Your first few steps were unsteady but you managed to level your gait at some point while tracking your way back to the others. Before you could really gauge whether your absence had been noticed, there was a tolling of bells in the distance. Church bells?

The small group as a whole began to sprint toward the sound but you? You couldn’t run if you tried. The dizziness was worsening, your extremities feeling not unlike lead weights. You knew now Daryl had been right. You should have stayed behind. Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve. Now, you had no choice but to move forward. Making the trip back to the RV alone would be more dangerous than falling a little behind your group. At least they could hear if you called for help. 

When you finally saw the space in front of you open up to an old church house and the familiar shapes of your fellow party members, you could have cried. Well, actually, you probably physically couldn’t cry. Dehydration was taking hold, a fact that you knew without anyone pointing it out. You hadn’t needed to pee since the previous afternoon. Your tongue was sandpaper. Your skin was dull and a bit itchy. You were going downhill and you didn’t know what to do about it. 

When you noticed that a portion of the group had broken away from Rick, Shane, and Carl, you wondered if your mind was beginning to go as well. Why were they splitting up? Lost in your confusion, Daryl was nearly on top of you before you even realized he was approaching. 

“What the fuck d’ya think you’re doin’?” He hissed in an exaggerated whisper. Oh, he was mad. Oh wait. He seemed to always be mad. “Don’t think I didn’t see ya sneakin’ off back there. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“You’re right.” You stood a little straighter. If you had to admit you were wrong, you would at least be confident about it. 

“D’ya think this is a game? There’s fuckin�� corpses out—wait, what?”

You barely suppressed a chuckle at his expression. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be out here. I’m a liability and I’m—not okay.”

“Daryl, we should go.” 

He held up a hand, silencing Andrea without even looking back. “Whaddaya mean ‘not okay’?”

“I can’t eat. I can’t even drink water without puking. I think—I think I might be—”

“Nah.” He interrupted, shaking his head. “Don’t even say that shit. Just need to getcha back to the RV. Y’can rest an’ I’ll take the bike. Find some meds or somethin’. Doubt anythin’ in Merle’s stash would be good for the kid but I’ll check anyway.” 

“Huh.” You raised your eyebrows, damn near astonished. 

“What?”

“I think that may be the most you’ve said to me at one time since we’ve known each other.” The corner of your mouth lifted and—it may have been a hallucination—you could have sworn you saw his lip twitch as well. 

“Stop. Can ya walk?”

“For now.” You took slow, albeit steady, steps to go around him, noticing that he never once tried to get ahead of you. He was worried. If you were this sick, what were the chances of your baby even making it? What if it was gone already?

“Let’s head back.” He instructed as the two of you passed by the suspicious gazes. Daryl had to lead them but his actions made it clear they would walk at his pace or venture ahead and get lost. Right now, his pace was your pace. You couldn’t make everyone suffer for your inability to keep up. The point was to search for Sophia, which meant as much ground needed covered as humanly possible. With a great amount of difficulty—and a few unsteady steps—you managed to pick up some speed. Daryl had taken only moments to be at your side once again, dipping his head as if requesting an explanation. 

“So this is it? This is the whole plan?” Carol’s meek voice came from behind you, both you and Daryl turning to regard her. With a hand on your shoulder, he steered you to a downed tree and pushed you to sit. 

“I guess the plan is to whittle us down into smaller an’ smaller groups.” You felt a tap against the front of your shoulder while holding your head in your hands. Daryl was still focused on the discussion but was offering you a tumbler of water. 

“Thanks.” You mumbled. You’d be stupid to let your pride persuade you into rejecting the offer. He gave you a nod and continued to listen to Lori's defense of her husband. Personally, you had nothing against Rick and believed he had once again made a call that was twisted to come back and bite him in the ass. No one wanted to blame him but in the face of fear and grief, blame was an easy scapegoat.

“C’mon.” Daryl gave you a moment to take one more sip and then helped you stand, clipping the water container back to his belt loop. It was blatantly obvious that his concern was for his baby, which in turn ensured that he made sure you were safe and healthy, but you couldn’t lie: having him be kind to you was something you wished you could grow to depend on. It was nice. Fleeting but nice. 

A wave of dizziness had you listing to the side, only briefly fearing you’d fall before you felt his arm around your waist.

“Easy.” His voice was calm, almost soothing to your frayed nerves. As you got your feet back under you, you nodded that you were okay. He lingered, watching you with those deep blue pools. If you weren’t careful, you could get lost. 

Several feet behind, Andrea cleared her throat, pretending to be looking at something up in the canopy when both you and Daryl quickly separated. How long had you been staring at him? Your cheeks warmed, actually managing to make you feel impossibly worse. Although, he had been looking right back. The tiniest of smiles upturned your lips, unbidden.

And then there was the unmistakable echoing crack of a gunshot.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong. Whether it was you or someone else in the group, the unease in your gut was more than the ever-plaguing nausea. Behind you, Lori had stopped again to look back from where you had all traveled from. 

You were all watching her, but Andrea was the one to speak up. “You still worrying about it?”

“It was a gun.” The dark-haired woman replied, her gaze still far away.

Daryl hadn’t moved from your side, and he was doing a terrible job at hiding his disquiet. “We all heard it.” 

Lori looked like she might start moving forward again, but she only managed to shift on her feet before looking back. “Why one? Why just one gun?”

You saw Daryl glance at you from the corner of your eye. He was losing patience. “Maybe they took down a walker.”

With a tilt of her head, her expression screamed unimpressed. “Please don’t patronize me. You know Rick wouldn’t risk a gun to put down one walker, or Shane. They’d do it quietly.”

Carol fidgeted where she stood, looking as if she felt she had to say something. “Shouldn’t they have caught up with us by now?”

Daryl took a breath. “There’s nothin’ we can do ‘bout it, anyway. Can’t run ‘round these woods chasin’ echoes.” He chanced a glance at you, and you knew then that he was eager to make them move to get you back to the RV. You’d never say anything yourself. That much was clear by how you had started to push yourself to move faster when you shouldn’t have been moving at all. Unfortunately, Lori didn’t seem to like that answer.

“So, what do we do? Same as we’ve been?”

“Beat the bush for Sophia, work our way back to the highway.” He hadn’t moved far from you at all, but extended an arm to indicate you should turn around and start walking. When there was a distinct lack of footfalls, you were the first to look back. Daryl looked at you before following suit. Carol and Andrea were engaged in conversation, though their hushed voices kept the nature inaudible. Daryl started toward them, waving you off when you tried to call him back.

“We’re all hoping and praying with you, for what it’s worth.” Andrea was offering a soft smile, extending some comfort to Carol. You winced when Daryl leaned in toward them.

“I’ll tell ya what s’worth—not a damn thing. S’a waste’a time, all this hopin’ an’ prayin’. We’re gonna locate that little girl. She’s gonna be just fine.” When he turned, you hid your smile behind your hand. “M’I the only one Zen ‘round here? Good lord.” There was nothing you could do to keep from chuckling. “Glad ya think s’funny.”

“Sorry.” You mumbled, still smiling, but at least treading onward. 

It wasn’t much longer before your legs felt like they might fail to hold your weight. Not only weak, but aching. You could feel your pulse pounding in your head. Daryl continued to offer you water, never bothering to drink any himself, you noticed.

“How much farther?” Lori gave voice to the question you had been thinking for the last half hour.

“Not much.” Daryl reached for you when you stumbled but you shook your head. His eyes remained on you when he continued his reply. “Maybe hundred yards as the crow flies.” The answer seemed to satisfy her for the moment at least. “Hey.”

You grimaced as the cramps you had been feeling in your legs seemed to move into your stomach. You hadn’t realized that your hand had immediately pressed into the area. When you finally heard Daryl and looked at him, you were bombarded by the naked concern shining in his eyes. 

“Y’want me to carry ya?” 

Though taken aback by his offer, especially in front of the others after he had spent the better part of the day more focused on you than on the tracking he was out there to do, you shook your head adamantly. “No. No, I’m good.” Another cramp, only slightly sharper than the one that preceded it. It was still enough to have you draw a hissing breath through your teeth.

“Don’t mind. C’mon, ya need to rest an’ we’re losin’ daylight.”

Before you could turn him down a second time, Andrea began screaming somewhere nearby. When had she wandered off? Daryl was readying his crossbow, tapping Carol on the shoulder as he started running. “Stay with ‘er!” He pointed back to you. The woman nodded even though he was long gone.

“You okay, honey?” She asked, brushing some hair away from your face after you selected a tree to lean against. “You look terrible.”

“I just need to rest. Maybe try to eat something.” You all but panted. The pain was still sporadic but each seemed to hurt worse than the last. As it was, you were torn between needing to vomit and the urge to drink the entire container of water Daryl was carrying. 

There was an awful commotion from the direction everyone had disappeared. Daryl soon came sprinting through, slipping the strap of his crossbow over his head before he reached you.

“Sorry.” He huffed between breaths at the same time he swept you up against his chest and continued toward the highway, everyone else right on his heels.

“What happened?” You asked breathlessly. If he noticed, he didn’t comment on it. 

“Some girl came ridin’ on a horse. Saved Andrea’s ass but she was lookin’ for Lori.” Wincing at being jostled when everything already hurt, you opened one eye and caught his grim expression. “Carl got shot.”

The remaining members of your group made it back to the highway in record time without you holding them up. Daryl gingerly lowered you onto the steps of the RV and pressed the water tumbler into your hand. Then he left to go fill in Dale and T-Dog. 

Your hands were shaking as you sipped down some water. First Sophia went missing. Then Carl had been shot. Children weren’t spared from the cruelty of that world. You felt your eyes burn with the desire to cry, yet no tears would fall.

“There are no blessings anymore. Nothing real to hope for anymore.”

And for the first time, you considered the possibility that maybe what Jenner did had been intended as a mercy. How could you even consider bringing a baby into that hell? Maybe you should have stayed behind with Jacqui, letting her hold your hand as she had done after the blood draw. Maybe it would be better to let whatever was wrong with you steal from you until there was nothing left. 

Your chest began to pull tight again, your breaths quickening in an attempt to keep pulling in air. Your pulse was thrumming away in your temples, making your eyes ache and your vision blur. All you could think was how badly you wanted to cry but couldn’t. You sat up straighter in hopes that it would make breathing easier, a small sound escaping when your stomach cramped again. It must have been loud enough to alert Daryl because when you opened your eyes, he was walking toward you, his brow pinched in concern.

And in looking at him, watching him react to your discomfort because of the little life the two of you had created, you instantly regretted ever thinking your baby shouldn’t be allowed a chance. That Daryl shouldn’t be allowed a chance to be a father. 

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me, Y/N.” 

You were grabbing at his arms and attempting to stand, but in your panic, your voice failed you. The ability to breathe went right along with it. Halfway upright, with Daryl’s hands on your upper arms to aid you, you managed two words: “Something’s wrong.” 

“Shit. Okay. Listen, we’re just gonna get everythin’ together. Leave a note for Sophia. Then we can—”

You cut him off with a scream that made his blood run cold. Your arms wrapped around your middle and held tight, trying to smother the pain stabbing relentlessly at you from the inside. In some distant, dark crevice of your mind, you felt him lift you and heard him shouting. There was the roar of an engine. Daryl’s bike. You blinked, dots and wavering images making it hard to decipher what was happening. You were sideways on the bike, cradled tightly to Daryl’s chest. How the hell? 

“Hey, listen to me. Ya listening?” You gave him the weakest of nods. “Need ta hold onta me. Means ya gotta stay awake. Can ya do that?”

“Son, take a car. We can move more around and make a—”

You blinked slowly and watched Daryl look up and away from you. “There ain’t time!” You blinked again, his blue eyes back on you. “Y/N, can ya do that?!” You didn’t– couldn’t –answer verbally, but moved slightly to wrap your arms around his middle as tightly as you could, which wasn’t tight at all. “Stay awake.” He was already moving, pulling his legs up as he picked up speed. When your stomach cramped again, you only squeezed him tighter with a sob. “I gotcha. Just keep holdin’ on. You’re doin’ great.”

Minutes felt like an eternity, and eventually, you sacrificed holding up your head so the strength in your arms could hold true. When you opened your eyes, all you could see was blue sky. Blue like Daryl’s eyes. Would the baby have had his eyes? 

The wind was no longer blowing. The sound of the engine had disappeared, but you were moving. Daryl was yelling. There were other voices but you were too tired; it hurt too badly. So when darkness beckoned, you took her hand.

[dinogoofymutated]

So I'm warming up to the idea of Cable now with this new animation style. And now I can't help but imagine a mutant reader seeing him shirtless for the first time 👉🏽👈🏽. Maybe she's helping him treat a wound he cant reach on his back and he's too worn out to rely on his telekinesis for it. Sure she knows that he has a metal arm. Techno-organic viruses were nasty business. But she never imagined she'd get to see the stark contrast of metal and flesh up close. Just a tender moment where she gets to see him at his most vulnerable. Preferably sfw. Sorry if this is too long winded or specific. Really love your writing and enjoy what you share with us regardless if u choose this one or not 🫶🏽

SFW!Cable/GN!Reader OOOOGHHHH when I tell you I have been thinking about this since you sent me the ask!! I've been dying to write this but forced myself to follow a schedule :( I've never really been a Cable girly but this scenario has been in my head non-stop! I just hope this fic does the same to others!!! Speaking of which, I hope this isn't too OOC for him! This also might get a pt 2 with some smooching 😘

Read pt. 2 Here :)

-Ps- Heads up, finals week is coming up for me and I have a lot of essays and work to do. my writing is sadly going to slow down a bit. I don't think I'm going to close requests for now but it's not out of the realm of possibility! TWs: Can't really think of any. Gross depictions of techno-organic shit. As always, Reader written while picturing fem! but no pronouns mentioned. The reader is short in this one, sorry to all my Amazonian friends.

    Prime sentinels were like wasps. Squashing one could be relatively easy with the right tools, but it was difficult to handle multiples at once. It had been a rough day, and your ears were still ringing from the sounds of blaster fire when you got to the safe house. Your hands are shaking from the adrenaline, body exhausted from overusing your mutant powers. Bruises are forming all over you, and despite the pain and soreness, you know you got off easy compared to Cable. 

    He’s got an arm slung around your shoulder, using you as a crutch as you help him limp over to the table- although you’re sure you’re not a very good one, too short for him to properly lean on. His gun clanks on the floor as he sits, grunting as the movement sends shooting pains through his body. You can tell his left arm is aching, the techno-organic virus fighting to beat the telekinetic powers keeping them still. You weren’t the only one who overdid it today, but you also weren’t the one who had to keep a virus from eating you alive.

    Once Cable is settled, the routine starts. You cautiously make a round through the safe house, making sure blinds are drawn and entryways secured. Usually, the task was split between the two of you, being faster and safer than it would be alone- but he would take it over when you were badly hurt. It was only natural that you would do the same. You feel the sting of anxiety and worry in your heart. Cable had saved your ass today. He had done so many times, but normally the fighting wasn’t this extreme. You had been stupid, and he was suffering the consequences. 

    A series of pained grunts lead you back into the kitchen once you’ve finished, and you can tell Cable is pissed just by the tone of them. You’re facing his back when you walk in, noticing the large red stain that spans across the width of his shoulders. You try to hide the worry on your face as you approach him. He has the medkit sprawled out on the counter, sorting through the various items in it.

    “Can’t believe this thing doesn’t have a damn mirror.” He grunts. You hum in response, looking him over before examining the items on the table.

    “What do you need a mirror for?” You ask, voice coming out a little hoarse. You clear your throat, must be from the smoke earlier. Cable sends you a look, tossing his head towards his back. You mouth an “oh” before looking at him, unable to hide your worried expression. You’d seen him stitch his wounds up with his telekinesis before, when the fight was all guns and no powers. An action like that was child’s play for someone of his capabilities. For him to actively avoid it, and the way his arm seemed to be bothering him more than normal… It made you worried. It made you feel guilty. 

    You look down at the suture kit, open on the table from where Cable had unzipped it, and then look back at him, wordlessly asking. He gives you a cautious look for a moment, before it shifts into something much softer. He doesn’t bother nodding, choosing to simply take his shirt off instead.

    You blush a little but quickly get to work, grabbing a pair of gloves and pulling them on. They’re too big for you, meant to fit Cable’s sturdy hands instead of your own smaller ones. You try not to get distracted by the sight of him shirtless as you pick up what you need and get behind him. The air has shifted between the two of you, forming into something a little more intimate. Something that builds itself on words unspoken, truths that neither of you is quite ready to communicate yet.

    His back is broad and beautiful, dotted with scars and bruises. The gash on his shoulders is from a stray blast, starting at the top of his left shoulder and ending at the lower shoulder blade of his right. 

    You’re not sure if you had been ready to see the cut-off between flesh and metal.

    The cords of metal attach to the skin of his shoulder in a way that makes your skin crawl. They sprout from underneath the skin, winding against each other in a way that makes no clear sense to you. The top layers of skin are rough, keloid scarring having formed at the impasse of skin and metal. It's horrific, the way the virus has both eaten and forced its way under the skin. The top of the gash is somewhat deep, the deep inner cording revealed by the wound cutting through the top of his skin has you unable to look away despite the horror that has taken you.

   “I can feel you staring, you know.” Cable’s rumbling voice causes you to snap back to reality.

    “Right. Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” You trail off, not fully able to place the words. He sighs, and you mistake it for annoyance. You quickly get back on track and begin to disinfect the wound. Cable hardly flinches as you do so. You’re overly cautious as you stitch him up, focusing on each stitch being perfectly placed. You know they wouldn’t stay for long. Cable had a habit of tearing his stitches. You hope that maybe you’d be able to keep that from happening this time.

   You place both hands on his shoulder blades when you are done. The nerves have worn off as the pseudo-doctor in you took over. You’re trying to examine the stitches, but find that your attention keeps being drawn back to that stark contrast of his shoulder. If Cable notices, he doesn’t say anything. You glance at the back of his head, trying to gauge what he’s feeling. 

    Your left hand drifts a little. Cable shudders as your thumb gently traces that line of scarring, the metal of his arm feeling extra cold compared to the heat of his skin. You’re waiting for him to say something. To tell you to back off. To grumble and shake you off and avoid speaking to you like he used to when you first started to work together- when he was so determined not to get attached. 

   But he doesn’t say anything. Not at first, anyway. The tenseness of his shoulders slowly gives as the gentle touching morphed into more purposeful touches, working the stiff muscles- what was left of the organic ones, anyway. 

    It’s intimate. It’s quiet. It’s… nice. Part of you wishes it would last a little longer. Part of you wishes he would let you touch him like this more often. 

    Cable stiffens again as the thought crosses your mind, recoiling away from you. He stands suddenly, turning around to face you. His towering stature used to make you nervous out of fear. Now you’re nervous for a completely different reason. Part of you had forgotten about the glimpses he takes into your mind. A flicker of anxiety ignites when you realize how much he might have seen. The two of you just look at each other for a moment, his brown eyes hard compared to the softness from earlier. You hadn’t meant to think so much. You didn’t think he was horrific. It was the virus. What it was doing to him. The energy and effort it takes out of him. That was what scared you.

    Cable was used to the stares. The horror. Most recoiled at the sight of his flesh. It only made sense to him when you did too.

    But Nathan… Nathan wasn’t ready for the depth of your thoughts. The care in your eyes. He wasn’t ready for the depth of his own feelings. The ones that cause such a storm within him. The ones that cause him to be stupid. The ones that make him focus more on saving you than the goal of every mission.

    “Is this… Are we okay?” You ask. He didn’t need to be a telepath to sense the fear that has swelled within you. Most of your emotions were always written on your face. It made things easier for him when he didn’t have to search for your thoughts. That hardness in his eyes softens yet again, and he glances away for a moment. 

    “... Yeah.” Is all he says. His heart feels light when you finally smile at him, even though an underlying nervousness still resides behind that smile. You let out a relieved sigh, and he can’t bear to look at you any longer. Instead, he sits back down. He faces away from you, giving you the space to finish taking care of the wound on his back. 

    You don’t realize how late it is until you’re finished, and the mess on the counter has been cleaned and contained back in the medkit. The two of you sit together as you eat. The food isn’t great- consisting of an MRE that’s not exactly as advanced as the futuristic weapons and technology would lead you to believe. He doesn’t say anything when you lean on his shoulder, or when your breathing evens out, having fallen asleep on his side.

  The aches and pains don’t really bother Nathan as he carries you to bed, but the thoughts of you, your feelings, your thoughts… Those keep him awake longer than any wound would.

[szkunas]

SORRY, YOU LOST! ౨ৎㅤtoji fushiguro.

synopsis / premise ♱ㅤokay, toji needs to admit it. you’re magical, or something because he genuinely intends to change for you, as stupid as that sounds. unfortunately, he decides to go out to gamble one last time. when he returns, his worst nightmare comes true.

featuring ♰ㅤREDEEMED toji fushigiro X fem!reader.

warnings ♱ㅤANGST ! MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH ! no happy ending ! toji is a little ooc i guess ! BLOOD + DEATH ! assassination mentions ! violence + murder ! gambling addiction ! toji thinks about making you a housewife ! marriage mentions

author’s note ♱ㅤhi. im not dead, lol. just trying to post a lot of things together. i took a small time for myself, to rest, and now i think i can come back with writing with these posts and the event! <3 i hope you all like it, its my first time trying to write for toji

WHOEVER WAS THE IDIOT who invented pachinko, toji hates them deeply. it was probably some very bored and very greedy man. the world will become a better place when those tired, money-crazy expressions disappear. until then, pachinko machines and gambling games will squeeze every penny out of him. or not. no more.

there is a clear reason why some countries strongly prohibit betting shops and casinos: betting is one of the strongest addictions that runs through the sick and desperate, emptying them of their worries for a few seconds and taking the money from their wallets in exchange.

technically, gambling is prohibited both in japan and in many other places around the world: but pachinko, horse racing and speedboat racing, as well as casinos, exist through loopholes in the law. after all, everyone’s true god is money, and taking all of this off the market would shake the economy of the country that seems forgotten by any god in the eyes of toji.

he knows that spending a lot of money on bets is not the wisest decision to make, but he always has faith that he will win next time, when the next time never comes. however, he only has a percentage of his latest work. the rest was well sent where it would be safe: to you, who keeps the money safe and secure from a murderer addicted to gambling.

toji knows you want a lot. you want him to give up his life as the sorcerer killer, you want him to give up his stupid gambling habit, you want to settle down somewhere quiet and start a family. and he wants that too, even if his heart of stone doesn’t let him show it.

but, he hopes you understand that the mere fact that he lets you sleep next to him at night is a sign of trust. he trusts you not to open his throat with a knife while he sleeps, which says a lot about how he feels about you.

even though your relationship has lasted a long time by his standards, what scares toji is the fact that he doesn’t want to leave. he wants to stay, he wants to come back to you at the end of each mission. he wants to let you take care of his wounds, and he wants to dry your tears when you cry for him. in fact, he doesn’t even want you to cry unless it’s from happiness or pleasure.

which is strange.

he only knew love for one woman, and after her passing, he believed he would never again fall in love with anything other than the green notes that create his happiness and destroy his present simultaneously.

a dead wife and an abandoned child on his resume is not what any woman is looking for in a guy. his difficult personality, his history of lack of commitment, his disappearances for days and his addiction to gambling only make everything worse for him. women are drawn to toji like fish to a hook, but they don’t stay long. it lasts even less if they don’t have money or cut off this source of income from his life.

but when he hears the sounds and clicks of the surrounding machines, he can only think that he would stay with you even if you were living on an old mattress in a dark alley.

because love can be as intimidating as it is overwhelming. it can hit a man’s world with such force that it makes him rise from where he is. make him stop making bad choices and, little by little, improve to give you the life that the woman he loves wants. he looks at the nearest clock and sighs. one last game. one last time, he will spend some stupid change waiting for a prize that never comes.

and from there, who knows? and from there, who knows? stop this idiocy of gambling every last penny, work a little more so you can get by for a few months. maybe start a savings account so when you have kids things will be easier?

he waits, and stops. so many times he has seen the message of defeat on machines similar and different to this one. sorry, you lost. the most common phrase for someone who appreciates dopamine more than money in their pockets. but he is surprised when the winning pattern appears on the machine. a winning one.

toji immediately turns to an employee. okay, that was weird. he usually loses any and all bets. this is probably a sign that this is the right path. who knew, the advice of morally sensible people works. don’t use drugs (they don’t work in his system), don’t overindulge in alcohol (which also doesn’t do anything in his system), be responsible and have a stable job. he just needs to review what he achieves in that last part. sorcerer slaying is not exactly a stable job, which every wife dreams of having a husband working with.

wait, did he just mentally call you his wife? take it easy, clown. first, you have to get past your fifth dating anniversary.

but the idea is undeniably attractive. maybe if he gets some good, well-paying work beyond assassination, you can become a housewife. only if you want, of course. toji will drop dead before he forces you to do something you don’t want to do.

the idea is a little cute — really cute, actually. he loves seeing you coming home from work stressed. seeing you angry makes him strangely excited. it’s like getting turned on by playing with fire, and he just wants to make the flames burn hotter. however, he knows how to respect his space when things get serious. that’s one of the reasons he doesn’t want you in an office job.

reduced to a sad cubicle, an idiotic boss and customers as miserable as you, anxious for the time to leave or for him to pick you up. this is not the life he wants for you. okay, toji needs his own fucking car to pick you up from work. this goes on the list of what to start buying to have a responsible life.

as he changes the balls in the pachinko machine, he watches the prizes carefully. normally, it’s just junk that you sell in a random store to make real money. but there is a kind of golden pendant, a butterfly. he asks the employee and takes the item in his hands. he’s a bit of a muggle and extremely cheesy, in his vision, but it’s only fair that in his last bet, one of the few ones he wins, the prize goes to you.

you, the true angel that exists on earth. you, patient and caring, who accept his mistakes and didn’t abandon him when he gave you a thousand and one reasons to do so. you, who he would like to see at the altar and have children with. fixing his own life and making his life better, that’s what he must do now. for you.

waving to the employee who is already used to his presence — after all, toji doesn’t plan on seeing him again — he puts the pendant in his pocket and walks peacefully home, lost in thought. some idiot bumps into him in a hurry, but he’s so strangely happy he can’t even stay mad.

the guy in question looks like he’s on something, with his hands in his pockets as if he’s hiding a weapon and his pupils dilated. His paranoid face is looking in all directions, and Toji knows that look — he’s trying to run from trouble. probably fucked it up and attacked someone. toji shrugs.

well, it’s not his problem.

he just takes out his cell phone and presses the call button on your contact. toji wants to go directly home, but if you want some food or some other gift, he would like to know now. your profile picture is actually adorable, and he caught himself just a moment before smiling like a fool.

the nighttime streets of tokyo don’t stop as he presses the phone to his ear. cars go too fast, and night lights make the city seem more alive at night than in daylight. two rings, three. you don’t answer, and toji groans, checking the time before waiting a little longer. it is weird. usually you are the one who calls, or you are the one who answers almost immediately. and it’s too early, so you can’t be sleeping.

maybe you forgot your cell phone at home and went out to get something you forgot at the office. it would be just like you. he can already hear himself teasing you. airhead. he gives up calling when there is no answer after four tries. he doesn't want to look desperate.

his steps are lazy, light. he’s gotten used to walking quietly due to his line of work, but toji has his chest puffed out like someone who knows what he wants in life. this is a new and at the same time well-known occurrence. his second chance just fell into toji’s lap. not all men are that lucky. and he doesn’t intend to waste it, risk everything and lose everything again.

may his past have taught him the valuable lesson of staying close and protecting those you love.

that’s why, when he turns down the street and stops in front of your house (which has also been his house for almost two years), he freezes. there are some police cars parked in front of the door. okay, maybe some idiot tried to rob the house. are you okay? the idea of you getting hurt makes his blood boil.

but his heart sinks like a crushed animal when he sees the ambulance present. no. what the fuck is going on? he quickens his pace, not caring about the yellow tapes — oh, god, there shouldn’t be yellow ribbons. not here. not in your home, not in the safest and happiest place in the world. do not cross slaps him in the face, making his heartbeat increase. is that fear, in the back of his head?

he had goosebumps. not the good kind.

a police officer comes over to talk to him, explaining that he can’t be here, that this is a crime scene, sir. but toji is faster, his hand searching for the pendant he bought you through a stupid gambling game.

“sir, i’m going to have to ask you to leave—”

“this is my house, i live here with my girlfriend. what the fuck is going on?”

the police officer stops, as if he didn’t expect that kind of response. he checks something with another officer over the radio, and toji is about to punch everyone to go and look for you. what the hell is going on? he only left for three hours and about ten minutes. this shouldn’t be happening.

his green eyes stay focused on the ambulance, on the house that is being ransacked. your house, god, your wonderful house. he waits for you to come out from behind the ambulance, from one of the doors of the house, for you to come running and for him to hug you. but there is nothing like that. you don’t show up, and he suddenly feels like his throat is closing up.

the officer who owes him an explanation that keeps him calm and tells the truth at the same time — after all, a guy with the size of toji freaking out isn’t what anyone wants to face — gets his attention by gently clearing his throat. he looks like a newbie. excellent. you’re nowhere to be found, and toji is getting explanations from a damn newbie.

“you mentioned you live here with your girlfriend, sir—?” the man inquires, and toji crosses his arms, irritated. “can i ask where you were earlier tonight?”

“fushiguro. i’m fushiguro, yeah, and i live here for, two years now. i was out. buying stuff ‘nd all. why do you need to know?”

the officer sighs, his face sad. “you will need to make a statement later, mr. fushiguro. however, this doesn’t have to be immediately, we intend to respect your time with…”

“with?” toji grits his teeth, nearly snapping. “c’mon. i don’t have all night. where the hell is my girlfriend?”

there are some voices shouting instructions in the background, and toji doesn’t pay attention until something appears in the corner of his vision. he turns his face away more quickly than ever, giving the nervous policeman no time to warn him that he shouldn’t do that. and the sight before him makes him freeze.

the paramedics are zipping up a black bag and putting away the equipment they initially brought. toji is no stranger to blood and dead bodies—his body count is high in more ways than one—but he swears he’s never felt so sick. the butterfly pendant falls from his hands and clicks against the floor, with a slight *clink*.

it’s your body. they are putting your body inside a black bag. god, he only got a glimpse, a second, but he’s sure it’s you. pale, motionless. declared dead.

you, dead.

bile rises up his throat thinking about a million things. If he had arrived earlier, could he have helped? he definitely wouldn’t let that happen, what took him so long with the pachinko machine? Was this random, was this chosen? did they kill you because of him, because of him and his stupid career?

he wonders if you suffered. god, the thought of you scared and screaming as you fight to defend yourself makes toji almost go insane immediately. this is— real. and it is not a nightmare, where he’ll wake up besides you, on the bed. you would smile and comfort him out of his scared thoughts. but no. you won’t ever smile anymore.

never again.

he is so out of it for a moment, it’s as if nothing else exists. his ears won’t stop ringing, and it’s like his head is going to melt at any second. he turns to face the officer, who has been trying to get his attention for apparently five minutes.

“we’re sorry, mr. fushiguro. there was a complaint from the neighbors. we’re still not sure what happened, but it was certainly a homicide. maybe random. as it turned out, someone broke into the house and—”

“murdered my girlfriend.” he completes, his hands clenching into fists. toji excuses himself — and the poor officer can see the pain he’s trying to hide with anger.

he’ll probably get called out for a dozen things. identify your body. give a statement, be ruled out as a suspect, god. like he would even touch you like that. the idea is so disgusting he can’t even process it. but it does not matter. it does not matter anymore. his new, peaceful life? fuck that. you are dead.

and so is his heart. again.

toji walks away from the prying ears of the police, and he hates the fact that his hands are shaking as he calls shiu. and old friend and trustful dealer, he needs to ask two things.

“hey, shiu. when you hear this, give me a call as soon as you can. i am serious. i need another job, as quickly as possible, also.” he pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose, taking deep, angry breaths. “i need to ask a personal favor. investigate something for me, and i want the name and address of every person involved. alright?”

he wonders what will he use when he finds whoever did this. a gun? a knife? it doesn’t matter, nothing matters anymore. he steps on the butterfly pendant as he stares at the sky and wishes for blood to pay for yours being spilled.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. THANK YOU FOR READING <3

[miss-anachronism]

for requests. i need. valen x male magister merlin. im a sucker for this guy. anything really. thank you!

Ooh, I’ve never read an x reader/MC fic, let alone written one! New territory, as exciting as it is scary.

I’m not so sure I have a good grip on Valen’s character, but I tried to write it from his perspective. I hope this suits your needs! It gets a bit philosophical. And sorry if its OOC :,)

He isn’t sure what to think, really.

They’re sitting around a dying campfire, just outside the borders of the Dark Forest. Lorsan is pacing somewhere in the distance, muttering to himself, or to the wind, maybe. Trying to figure out what’s happened to his home. Korin leans against a tree, tending to his wounds- courtesy of Merlin. The magister himself is across from Valen, wrapping his own wound and chattering with his hamsters.

Logically, Valen knows that the lesson he should have taken from this scramble is a lot more profound than what’s been on his mind. He should be contemplating the Wilders, the forest, their next steps, how to protect the refugees. And he’s trying to, but it’s just that something- someone- keeps catching his attention.

He didn’t know Merlin could bleed.

It’s such a silly observation. But as Valen watches the angry red wound on Merlin’s forearm, his gut twists. It’s like seeing a god’s flesh tear, and seeing that its blood is the same bright red as his own.

Valen isn’t sure what exactly Merlin is. As far as he knows, no one does, not even Merlin himself. But to the average young Lightbearer, he’s a myth. A legendary figure that you might glimpse once in your life, but would never get to meet. Never speak with, let alone camp alongside. Fight alongside. Merlin throws his head back to laugh at something Chippy has said, and something stirs in Valen’s ribs, something he knows is dangerous.

All of this is dangerous. Merlin is not someone to be loved; Valen has seen what happened to Mirael. Forgotten about, left in the dust, accidentally as it was. The way she watches Merlin, her face made of mixed admiration, bitterness, and regret. He wonders if she would take it all back, if she could. Scariest of all, when she bid them farewell, the look in her eyes sent an ugly pain of jealousy through Valen’s chest. And he doesn’t want that to happen to him, selfish as that may be. Every time Merlin falls asleep, he risks waking up knowing nothing.

Besides, what is Valen to a hero of myth? His whole life has been barely a blink in Merlin’s. Whatever he is, there is no reasonable way Valen could ever mean something to Merlin the way that Merlin is beginning to mean something to him. Merlin will outlive him a thousand times over. And he’s probably met a thousand different people, fallen in love with quite a few of them. Someone who has experienced so much life, so much loss, can they still love? Could they ever?

And yet, he bleeds. It’s such a human weakness that it seems impossible. Valen knew heroes could bleed; he didn’t know gods could. Merlin does not go about the world serene and calculating, watching every moment with practiced ease. He stumbles, laughs, misses with his spells. He jostles Valen’s pauldron excitedly when they win a fight, he’s the last to flee when they lose, ensuring everyone else has disengaged safely. He has only one dimple, on his left cheek. Sometimes he speaks so fast his words blend together, and Hammie has to remind him to slow down. It’s endearing. It’s human. Valen doesn’t know what to do with it. Because it was so much easier, to write off affection as admiration. When the pieces had first clicked, he thought it all made sense. The natural pull that the magister gave off- yes, of course, it was just Merlin’s nature. But they’re a week into this camaraderie, and Valen keeps noticing things like the lick of hair on his neck that doesn’t sit flat.

Pretty fucking annoying, that’s what it is. Valen’s always prouded himself on his ability to swerve out of love’s path. He can flirt and charm all he wants, but at the end of the day all the love letters he receives are ink and paper, nothing more. Whenever someone seriously reciprocates- god forbid- he disengages as smoothly as he can, lest they get the wrong impression.

But Merlin has changed all that, somehow. Impossibly so. He supposes it’s in his nature, to take everything and turn it upside down. Valen doesn’t want to flirt with the Magister, to laugh as he flushes under his praise. Well, it would be nice, he always has liked the attention; but the thing is, that isn’t the point. With Merlin, he just wants to be. No performance, no elaborate courtship. Just… be. Together. All this, for someone who is more myth than man.

It seems like the scariest thing he’s ever faced.

“Valen?”

He jumps as the magister suddenly speaks, and realizes with mounting embarrassment that he’s been staring the whole time. Luckily, the magister grins good-naturedly- and ah, there’s that dimple again.

“Lost in thought?”

“You could say that.”

He leans back on his hands and forces his face into a smirk. It’s easier than he anticipated; despite everything, Merlin makes it simple to be around him.

“I’ve been meaning to say,” Merlin mirrors his position as Chippy and Hammie scuttle away, the former setting off on a quest to climb the nearest tree, “I really appreciate your help in all of this. Coming along, and aiding me- far past your assigned duties. It isn’t lost to me.”

Valen gives him a look. “Of course, magister. I’m not one to leave danger to fester; I’m sorry you ever had that impression of me.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s…” Merlin’s brow furrows as he collects his thoughts. “You know, you seem so… charmingly nonchalant. Like nothing bothers you. But that clearly isn’t true. You care a lot, Valen, and it’s really, really nice to see. You’re someone who is just… good, you know? And I appreciate it.” He grins sheepishly. “Sorry. Kinda cheesy compliment. I’ve lost all my memories, you know, but being around you- and Lorsan, Cassadee, Mirael- honestly, I don’t feel like I’m missing much of anything. Everything I need is right here.”

He shrugs and turns back to the fire, as if he has not sent Valen’s mind reeling. Functionally, Merlin has been aware for only a week- one week out of thousands of years. He’s wondered how he’s been so calm about the whole thing, and…

And it’s hard to believe, but it’s much harder to doubt what Merlin says, not as he stares into the fire with that soft smile. It dawns on Valen that he probably knows more about Merlin than Merlin does- all of the legends, at least. And yet, despite that insurmountable legacy, despite the name and title that bears unimaginable weight, Merlin is… content. Content in just moving forward, and hoping he’s doing the right thing.

And isn’t that all that Valen’s doing, as well? He doesn’t deserve all this praise; he always shies away from large displays of gratitude, loathing how awkward they make him feel. Because he’s just moving forward, and trying to do the right thing. It’s a simple motive, really. Faith, and what effort it takes to retain it. He always thought Merlin would have some deeper, existential knowledge of the world that would put all else to shame- access to the secrets of the universe, and what not. And, certainly, his magical capabilities are second to none- but his philosophy, the way he lives; it very well might be human after all.

Maybe the usual Merlin, the one with all his memories, is the knowledgeable, immovable sage that Valen grew to look up to. Maybe, once restored, Merlin will become that god-like fairytale hero, wisdom surpassing all others, power knowing no ends.

Selfishly, Valen hopes that never happens. That the Merlin in front of him stays the same, annoying dimple and all, and keeps looking at Valen like that. Like he sees something in him that Valen never knew was there. He hopes Merlin never raises above their quips, their banter.

He know’s it’s all in vain. But god, he hopes.

[echantedtoon]

Sweet Sorrows

When the shadowed light turns to a full eclipse that blocks out even the stars, the monster comes out to claim the maiden. The wound Cupid's arrow caused by piercing the dark heart bleeds out for her, so the heart would seek what it's body needed to heal. The waning desire pangs them so.

(Or alternate title: Ried Gets All The Attention Whether She Wants It Or Not. If you're wondering by what's happening in this, essentially three boys being obsessive over you ain't always a good thing.

This is inspired by @wolveria's Cursed Polycule Au, and who was nice enough to give me permission to write something loosely based off it and using Kenneth in this. Please forgive me it's the first and second time writing for these characters so any ooc writing is probably there. The dynamic of the polycule is based off/on the fanart linked down below by @e-g-g-w-i-n . Please check out both content creators and support they're works.

WARNINGS: Some toxic relationship stuff mentioned, death, possible blood mentioned, possession with the mask, implied kidnapping maybe, yandereish tendencies, possibly some innuendos, and Dyo IS his own warning.)

Alarm, alarm.

The breach has begun. 

A prison break is a daring and often perilous act where a prisoner, utilizing stealth, cunning, and sometimes violence, manages to evade security measures and escape from a correctional facility. Typically involving breaching cell walls, scaling fences, or digging tunnels, while evading watchful guards to reach freedom outside the prison perimeter. 

It often requires careful planning, smuggled tools, and coordinated efforts with accomplices, putting both the escapee and those aiding them at significant risk of capture and further legal repercussions. However would it still be considered a prison if it was more akin to hell?

Like the flashes of hellfire red lights flashed upon the freed and bloodthirsty creatures that reigned supreme of the mesh of concrete and steel that once made up their confined cells of torture. The whirring of alarms sounded overhead instead of warning the innocent of humans seemed more of a praised laugh to announce the arrival of the manic chaos that was to befall all. 

Blood. As red as the lights and as copper as the metal was the main decoration for the parade of monsters descending through the halls and disemboweling the humans and in some cases each other. No one cares. Certainly not the beasts that now ran ramped with adrenaline and bloodlust in their minds.

An inhuman screech went off into the night as a stronger forced ripped away arms from torso. Eyes turned and stared into the bloodlust abyss of bloodshot eyes. A mix of shrieks echoed out into the darkened night above. So much blood spilt in that night that it might've even spilt into the moon illuminating red down on everything. 

R E D

That was the war paint splattered proudly across his body and coating his skin like a devil from the very flames that he walked through. Blood. Vengeance. C A R N A G E.

R E D

The color clouded vision beyond reasoning. Inhuman yells of pain and murder carved way by him. One by one. Body by body. Life by life. Flesh torn from bone. Blood cleaved from muscles. Arms from torso. Limb from limb. He was a beast tonight. The thirst for blood was not just a want but a need. For tonight he was not a man. Not a demon. Nor anything else comprehendible by human thought.

F O R  T O N I G H T   H E  W A S  D E A T H  A N D  H E  W A S   B R I N G I N G  H E L L  W I T H  H I M.

The darkness both swallowed him up and closed off the ways both in front and behind him making each end of the pathay difficult to see with the already limited vision he had. Heightened senses were one thing he had been thankful to have retained from years of familiarity to his body and mind. Closing off all senses to be more enlightened to one's world in a different light. Each echo of his footfalls ringing in his mind as the airways of his body forced himself to absorb more oxygen out of the air and each heart beat thudding against his ribcage. Throbbing sensation reaching from his head to his feet with every passing second he was surrounded by the buzzing swarm of danger. Enlightened by the stings of fear. Danger. Dread. Doom. Like many wasps penetrating his most basic human emotions and swelling them up to the point of combusting dangerously all over the peeping, teasing darkness. The soft silk touch of his host's clothes met his hand. It was hard to move...Hard to will it to move running along the soft fabric to something more smooth and hard. Both basic instinct wasps forcing him to do something so familiar to combat the combustible feelings. To grab at which to protect him and cut it away like a sickeningly sweet cake of misery and despair. Instincts wailing to protect himself from dangers he had yet to see. Had yet to reveal themselves to him. Hopefully to be chased away by the sounds of the bullets of the gun and held out into the darkness to cut it's tainting self down a notch. That his willpower will always prevail over it. Each burning room slowly passing a tainting gateway. Each with a promise of safety behind it and perhaps even it had occupants inside using it. taking up it's offering of safety from the darkness now dead to the world highly unaware of the masked host just roaming outside arm outstretched and staring down the one that dared teased him the most with it's fake promise of protection. 

"Ried?" The sounds of the next door smashing open by beyond human strength echoed out. "C'mon, Doc. Now's a bad time for hide and seek.~"

And that promise he would soon come to learn was broken and not even promise to one individual soon enough. As sweat formed on his host's skin in an attempt to cool it from the harsh tainting from the moment he was face to face with the door that broke it's sacred promise. At first glance to one in the dark it was as taunting as all the others he had just passed, but if one took time to see it's true mockery and failure hidden by the teasing darkness they would've seen it. The remnants of a beast. Looking as though it had clawed and kicked it's way at the door's sacred locks to be allowed entry inside the room beyond it. In it's wake leaving the door in misery and ruins. A slight opening between itself and the wall where one could look into the room beyond it and see nothing but more darkness laughing back at you.

It begged for him to open it further, to peek further into the darkness beyond the door that should have protected the occupant inside. The surprising untouched room was still, quite, far too quite for his liking. The broken splintered door only left so little to memory, and with cautious pushed aside he shoved the door open to reveal the horror to his eyes. His eyes widened. There where obvious signs of ransacking, evident by the turned over coffee table and the furniture pieces that lay toppled on their side as though someone had carelessly kicked it over in its rampage. The host body treaded carefully inside the ruined room, his shoe crunching on the remains of a picture frame that had been knocked over, its broken shiny cover a perfect match of the doorway half hanging from its hinges - the cover to what lay beyond broken to bits

What once was undoubtedly a very nice-to-stay-in staff break room inviting for visitors was now reduced to what might've been a break in sight following the discovery of a murder. Which made the situation even more worse. A small gasp noise left his host's throat as his foot caught onto something. And the something that dared to trip him up happened to be a piece of fabric. MANY pieces of fabric in the form of clothing strew about in the darkness of the floor he hadn't seen at first among the shattered frame glass. Heart throbbing sensation still hammering his entire body as he turned and twisted his body around the room.

CCCRRREEEAAA-

In just one second his body reacted on it's own. Twisting his body and holding his arm out to defend against the intruder...Only to let his nerves relax when discovering it was just the poor broken door slowly closing back to it's original poor position he had found it in. Internally cursing to himself at the overreaction it had caused him. At least...That was until he saw what was on the other side of the door he had missed upon initial entry. The gleam of a familiar metallic silver caught his eyes in the limited darkness he was able to make out and the shock at seeing it at first melted his sight and his mind raced. The door being the only thing to answer his shocked mind as it finally creaked back into place.

The host approached slowly, one hand still gripped at his gum, fingers strumming against the metal handle as if his nerves where itching to use it. Yet he remained stoic despite the clouds that where casting gathering to add to the storm inside his head. Upon closer inspection the scalpel  in the door was too purposeful for this to be an improvised job, this job - this attack, this entire get away had been just a waste of his time so far. His eyes narrowed, other hand ripping the surgical knife free from the grip that held it in place against the doorframe. The shining metal reflected the red staining his body and the frustrated frown of the porcelain face-

A inhuman scream tore through the area drowning out the other terrible screams and blaring alarm. An already broken door kicked off it's hinges as the demon walked back into the night seeking answers.

"This isn't the right way to go about this. You should stop now." 

"You are either on my side, by my side, or in my fucking way." The hands puppeteered gripped the gun tighter. "Choose wisely." 

Not an answer was given back from the host mind 

"That's what I thought. Now be a good boy for me.~ Tell me exactly where you think little miss immunity would hide during a situation like this.~" 

The blaring alarms hid well the sounds of his footsteps and the chaos of murder around him covered the intention of the desire and want which was the driving force of the shared minds that combined with one another to become one. 

The screams rang into the air as his pathway was made, him walking through its wake of cadavers long since dead.

Terror. Fear. Danger. Get away. Get away! All the pathetic ones scream. Like a car accident, terrible yet one couldn't look away from the incoming storm of tragedy. He was so used to such actions as he came with the reputation. The woman who continued to shriek in his way meant nothing to him. She was merely just an obstacle. An annoying hindrance to what he wanted-..No.

What he N E E D E D.

And he always dealt away with obstacles. The old body was easily chuckled to the side, he not caring about where it landed or how the other ended up. Screaming. A true testimony to his being. Power. Force behind it and he knew that as screams filled out his eardrums and killed him into the comfortable lullaby of chaos incarnate. Arms rising and head tilted back in display for the passionate dance of bodies scattering blurred to his vision footfalls thundering like a rain dance of nature. A true place a demon would find peace. Eyelids fluttered shut as the sounds blurred out around him until he heard nothing. Saw nothing. Felt nothing. But-

P E A C E

Until the panging desire returned from the other side deep down replacing the peace with a frustrated annoyance the farther into the hell hole he went. The reluctant annoyance only being halted by the passage of a familiar voice or two coming from a room. Little Miss Immunity's little office. How cute.~

"Rest a little longer. Your leg wound is deep but nothing serious."

"You could've gotten away you know. I'm dead weight with my limited movement."

"You know that I wouldn't do such a thing. I love you too much for that."

"Love makes you do stupid thing then."

"On the contrary. I only ever thought there were two kinds of loves. The kind you'd kill for and the kind you'd die for but you, Reid... You're the kind of love I'd live for."

The chaos had not left the couple unscathed. Blood pooling to a stop from her body thanks to a series of highly tightened bandages wrapped around her upper thigh courtesy of the concerned doctor knelt beside her. Hands caressing her pale face and wiping at the cold sweat poured from above her brows, fingertips leaving red smears behind from the hands that prepped the wounds. No doubt she had suffered blood loss. Both a curse to her..

And a blessing to him.

"Nice speech, Doc.~" Immediately the temperature in the room dipped. The man in the black robes freezing and the f/c of the woman dipping into the size of pins as the host body stepped within eyesight finally. A bubble of happiness panging throughout his being. "Unfortunately words aren't much good at healing wounds. Wouldn't you say?~"

"Oh my God..." Her bottom lip twitched as horrific realization of what stood before her settled in. "Ke- Kenneth?"

"AAAHNT! Wrong. But you are half right, he's still here and conscious of everything.~" A hand reached out to tap the side of the porcelain mask smiling wickedly. "He's a rather good boy.~ Doesn't complain, does as he's told, and- OH! He loves you, Darling.~ We have more things in common than one thinks." 

Her quivering, lips looked so cute on her horrified face. But he was more giddy when a face of white and narrowed silver eyes of hatred turned to greet him in disdain. "Dyo."

"Hiii, Doc." The gun was shifted to rest against his shoulder as his other hands wagged fingers at him. Happy black ooze seeping from the mouth of his face and dripping onto his body. "Did you miss me?~ I certainly missed you.~"

"Why is it that I can never seem to wash my hands of you?"

"Magnetism, Honey. I can't help it if I'm irresistible.~ And here I thought you liked my charming personality.~"

"Spare me your worthless babblings." His form shifted over. Protectively blocking the girl all three of the men in that room wanted from sight. Doesn't change the fact she was still there.~ "What do you want? Shouldn't you be fleeing like the rat you are akin too?"

"Aw.~ Flattery will get you everywhere with me if you just bothered to try.~ But since we're running on limited time here, I'll spare the chit chat and get straight to the point." The rifle in his hands clicked as it resumed it's place back sideways held in front of his chest. "I think we all have a common interest here."

"Escaping you mean?"

"Actually I was talking about little Miss Immunity over there but that too! Actually I'm here to collect the both of you to my little toy box.~"

As expected, a roaring wave of rage ignited in his body as shocked rocked the bird like face and his body tensed. "Do you mean to tell me that you're here with the intention of collecting her like a doll?!"

"Actually I think the normal person calls it a harem. I've been around enough to see the appeal of having one." The gun was nudged to point out the woman looking paler by the second staring at the both of them. "But we can play house later once Doll face is situated somewhere else don't you agree?" His head tilted as he hummed. "You'd have to carry her with that leg wound and you'd be needing help with getting out.~ I'd say that you'll be needing a partner, Doc."

"I'd sooner shatter you into a million pieces than accept your twisted hand of help!"

"It's not like you have a choice. There's three of us here that want the same thing...Well technically I want you too, but we all agree with wanting to keep her alive and within our grasp. I'm afraid you're both a little bit out of luck here. So now why don't you pick up the weight, and we can all be on our merry way?"

"You're a villain. A sick twisted villain and I should've tied you to a rock and threw you into the ocean instead of leaving you in that crypt!" 

There was silence other than the alarm still shrieking out and the feint sounds of chaos and screams still coming from the halls around them all. The host's body tending under the scalding of words thrown to his face. Before the frame of the gun creaked under his crushing grasp and a bear growl escaped his disembodied throat.

"Hm. Well it's a good thing for you both I am the villain instead of a saint."

"And just what might be the good of that?!" 

"A hero would sacrifice you to save the world, but a villain would sacrifice the world to save you. And it's lucky for everyone involved that I like playing the part of the bad guy.~" 

[kaisfruit]

Distraction | Kai x GN!Reader

warnings; none! except maybe ooc kai and i apologize for that!

words; 1.6k

Talking things out is hard. Is there any other way to reach out and make sure someone else is there to catch you?

“Hey Zane,” the nindroid’s head whipped around at the sound of his name, “do you need anything from the grocery store? I’m making a list.” You lifted up the notepad with said list on it as if trying to prove what you were saying to be true.

As he took his time to think, you walked further into the kitchen and began checking around trying to make note of what items to get.

“I’m not sure…” Zane mumbled. “I think we could do with some more eggs and most likely some more deli turkey…” He continued thinking aloud, a hand on his chin as you wrote down things as he kept going with his list.

“Thanks! I knew you’d be the right guy to go to for this.”

“Why is that?”

“Oh, you’re usually the one in here cooking for us so I just assumed you’d know what we were low on.” You explained, a light smile on your face. “You're good for our necessities, but I feel like I should still ask anyone if they want anything.” You added on in a mumble to yourself, already thinking Cole would want some cake mix and Jay would want some kind of chips. Those two were next.

“Ah, I suppose that makes sense.” Zane nodded in his understanding. He did know what they needed, well, after he thought about it for a second. “Well, while you’re here, do you have any requests for dinner? That is, if I have time to make it.” Zane added on that last part hastily. He really did consider cooking a hobby of his, but he knew he would put a lot of things ahead of what he actually wanted to do.

You thought for a second before slowly shaking your head. “Honestly, I’ll be happy with whatever you decide to make! I’m just grateful you choose to cook for all of us. Especially since-” Your train of thought was cut off at the feeling of arms wrapping around your waist. You practically jumped out of your skin at the contact before settling when a familiar scent enveloped you as the ninja rested his head in the crook of your neck.

“Kai, what are you doing?” You asked with an amused tone as you let a hand come up to run through his hair. You felt him mumble something against your shoulder and you rolled your eyes. “Sorry, Zane.” You sent the nindroid an apologetic glance. “I’ll let you know when I’m back from the store!” He nodded and waved bye to you, a smile filled with mirth on his face. You returned the wave and began walking towards Kai’s room with the same ninja in tow, his hands not leaving your midriff.

Locking his door, you turned around in his hold so that you could cup his face in your hands and look at him. “What’s up?” You asked casually, a contrast to the intimacy of your guys’ holds on one another.

“I was bored.” Kai answered with a yawn. “And tired. Thought you’d help with both of those things.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I’m busy?”

Kai pretended to think for a second before shaking his head. “Nah, doesn’t sound right. What do you mean your entire world doesn’t revolve around me?” He joked, a dumb smirk on his face. You just rolled your eyes affectionately at him.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You patted his cheek and pulled away from him which caused a look of shock and hurt to cross his face.

“Wow.” Kai said in mock disbelief. “Y’know, that stings. Got me where it hurts, [name]. Right where it hurts.” He clutched his shirt around where his heart would be on his body. “Might as well just tell me you want me dead.”

“I want you dead.”

“Wow. Here I am, wanting to spend some precious time with my most stunning significant other and they’re telling me that I should just die and rot alone and that they don’t love me anymore and-”

“Shut up!” You said through laughter, holding a hand up to his mouth. “You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“It was the subtext.” Kai explained when it very much wasn’t the subtext. “You have wounded me. I don’t know if I’ll ever recover.”

“Oh no!” You finally played along. “Whatever shall I do to fix my one true love?”

“Come lay down with me?” Kai asked, clasping his hands together and giving you the face of the puppy eye emoji. You let out a sigh, but begrudgingly held out your hand which he took excitedly as he brought you over to his bed. He flopped down onto it without letting go of your hand which just brought you both down at the same time with you landing on top of him. Both of Kai’s arms wrapped around you and effectively left you trapped as he rolled over on his side so that you two could face one another. The fire ninja rested his head on top of yours and let out a content sigh. You didn’t need to pry to know that he needed this outside of just being bored.

Slowly, your arms came to wrap around his midsection as you allowed yourself to relax while you rested your head beneath his chin. You could feel as all signs of tension within Kai’s body seemed to dissipate and the warmth that naturally flowed through him became steady as it flowed onto your own skin. It was a nice feeling knowing you could help him in this way at least since it was outside of his comfort zone to talk it all out. Kai just needed a way to recharge his battery and what better way to do that than being in your presence.

Minutes passed of you two being locked in the peaceful embrace. You were nearly asleep even by the time his voice pierced your ears.

“Would you rather have feet for hands or hands for feet?” Kai asked casually, causing you to snort. “What?! Answer my question!”

“Where’d this come from?” You attempted to ask while pulling yourself up so you could look him in the eyes. That only caused him to force his head on top of yours so you couldn’t do that, so you backed down with a sigh and decided to focus on your finger that was making circles along the fabric of Kai’s shirt.

“I’m bored.”

“I thought you said I’d cure your boredom?”

“And you are…by answering my question.” You could just hear his shit eating grin in his voice.

“Your question is stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

“Fine. I’m not answering.” You shoved your face into the crook of his neck. “And I’m going to bed so you’ll be stuck in silence for hours.”

“Wait no!” Kai quickly yelped. “No you’re so smart and I didn’t mean it I promise…Please talk to me.” That last part was added on quietly, but due to your proximity you heard it anyways. You sighed and lifted a hand up to run through his hair which you felt him lean into.

“Fine. I’d rather have hands for feet because that’s basically what monkeys have and if they’re doing it then I can do it.”

Kai was the one to let out a huff of laughter this time at your answer. “You answered it like you’ve always wanted someone to ask you that question.”

“I’ve been thinking about my answer since you asked the question.” You admitted, finally letting your hand just rest on the top of his head. “I was just giving you a hard time.”

“You’re evil.” He accused to which you just laughed.

“But you love me.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Kai huffed, but you knew it was a yes. Even though he couldn’t say it, as he couldn’t say most things pertaining to how he really felt, you could feel it. Feel it in every interaction between the two of you, with every word he spoke, every action he took. Kai was built out of pure love for those around him. There were a million words he wanted to say to all of his friends and probably a million more to say to you alone, but it was hard. It was those moments where he felt the most vulnerable and that vulnerability only led to more self-doubt which plagued his every waking thought. He could feel his hold on you get the slightest bit tighter as his thoughts began to scramble in his head once more.

“Okay, would you rather have every food taste like soap or only use food as soap for the rest of your life?” This one had you laughing once more which brought a smile to his face (and also brought him back to the present despite him asking the question beforehand.)

“Okay, umm, I need to think about this one. Hold on…”

And part of you knew that Kai was only trying to distract himself by asking these questions and you really should try to help him by asking what was wrong. But hearing you two laugh as his ‘would you rather’ questions got more and more absurd quieted that part down. This was helping him, in its own way. All thoughts of getting groceries or getting any other chore at the monastery done had left your mind as you enjoyed your time with the fire elemental. Seeing him happy, a true kind of happy, made you happy. In fact, you can’t remember the last time you had this much fun. Of course, Kai would have to work through his issues eventually, but for now this was enough. Spending time with him was enough. Caring for him was enough. You were enough for him.

A/N; first post done!! tbh i am working on a sportacus (from lazytown 💀) x reader that is like,,,7k words long atp LMFAO so i'll probs be posting yhat at some point. likes + reblogs r appreciated and please do leave requests if ur enjoying my writing :]

[callmerhynner]

Wanna switch?

synopsis: A wish a psychic has chanted all his life gets granted, by a witch that just wants more answers. Regret seeps, but will something else too?

tags: bad elden german, witch!fem!reader, maybe ooc Kusuo, story building (if you squint), no idea tbh, slice of life (maybe?)

"Saiki, good timing buddy!" a purple-haired medium exclaims, seeing his friend, greeting with a up-high wave and a bright-lit smile.

"Nevermind" the psychic merely replies, turning his heels and walking away. The purple haired male doesn't take the hint, however, and wraps his arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer. He waves a letter at his face and start talking about how a pretty girl had finally become friends with him--he expects it to go farther, though.

Saiki looks at the letter he's waving begrudgingly, thinking of ways he could get away with killing the fool that was on his hunt for the coffee jelly he had seen in so many advertisements.

"It's not even addressed to you." he says. Toritsuka lets out a cartoon-ish shocked face and sighs in defeat. As the medium drops to his knees, the boy takes the letter in curiosity.

He regrets being curious more than he regrets taking that letter's offer.

Now, he was sat on the floor carpet, you continue meditating and keeping yourself reserved, though that wasn't going as good as you'd hoped seeing as a certain pink-haired psychic was watching you. You continue to keep humming, trying to block out the stare you could feel through your skin. After one more try, you let out an annoyed grunt and sent a glare at the boy.

"What do you want?" you say, brows furrowed.

"Don't get so pissed off at me, you're the one that invited me." he replies, pointing out your past conversation.

“I’m gonna kill that idiot.” you sigh, pinching off the candles’ wicks that circled you and standing yourself up. “I’m guessing your servant told you about my offer?”

"He's nowhere related with me." the psychic replies with the same monotone voice that piqued your curiosity

You stand in front of him, head tilted in thought as you measured him up and down. He stood quiet, surely reading your mind as you estimated his every noticeable detail.

"I'm guessing you already know why I invited you over?" You hum, walking past him and going over to your study desk, looking for something, by the looks of it.

"He mentioned." He says bluntly, with how fuzzy your mind was getting. He has been reading through your thoughts but it sounds as if it was broadcasted on a broken radio. If you didn't look so decent and well taken care of, the psychic would question if you had been drinking.

"I know you're psychic and all, and that--ugh, where is it." you groan, looking through each drawer and corner of the desk. "--and that you're probably hearing very thought in me right now."

"I do warn 'ya, not many can even understand this broken head I got up here." you chuckle lightly, knocking on the top of you skull before continuing to look for whatever it was you were looking for. "From what people like you tell me, my head sounds like a wounded doll or some 60s voicebox."

"What do you mean 'people like me'?" The pink-haired boy questions, eyebrows furrowed down.

"Did I say that? I don't remember." You just turn to face him with an innocent smile and a shrug. Turning your back again.

"Are there other psychics?" he sounded a lot more emoted when the topic was mentioned. He trued harder and harder to read through your thoughts, to no avail.

"I'll tell you about that later, for now... Aha! There you are, little prick." You exclaim, raising a large old-looking book with a gilded lock guarding it. "This will answer both of our questions..." you smile with a dark air surrounding you.

"If you're willing, of course." you add, looking up at the man in front of you. You let a hand out for him to grab, reluctantly he does. Your eyes squint as your smile grows bigger in excitement.

You open the book with a key you had tied to your necklace and skim through pages and pages until you see your desired spell. As if by magic, the candles were lit up once more, you and the psychic inside the lit circle back-to-back. You raise your arm as something resembling static buzzes around it, eyes going pale, you chant an ancient text from the book.

"In tiefen Schatten, weben Flüstern,

Tauschen wir Formen, unsere Seelen zu bewahren."

The room starts to fume and fog begins to puff in from the static's heat. The room's walls are barely seen with how thick the air is, from the posters to even the doorknob, nothing is noticeable. It's a wonder what your parents must think when about when you're up to these gimmicks.

"Dankbarkeit gelernt, in neuer Fleischlichkeit,

Lehre gegeben, für dich und mich."

You chant before the smoke begins to collect and wrap around each of your bodies, the pressure is tolerable yet uncomfortably tight. The psychic begins to cough when the clouds around his necks tighten and smoke chain begins to wrap his wrist linked to yours. He feels his feet lift, this was crazier than what he could have ever imagined.

'How powerful is this witch?!' he yells to himself as you both spin around. He shuts his eyes, wishing the worst on every soul he could think of that led him to this decision. And before he knew it, he was back on the floor, laid down on the hard wood floor. He skimmed the room, nothing.

It was as if nothing had happened, there were not smoke nor any traces of the witch's doing. He stood up, thinking he may have been pranked since nothing felt different, who was he kidding? A witch that could take away his powers? He should've never hoped anything to come of it.

He stood up, he expected the chatter of people's thoughts to clamor him as they usually did, when he heard nothing, his finger fiddled with his other hand to check his germanium ring.

"Huh..?" the air stood quiet, he stood still and the room was suddenly colder than the Antarctic. 'Where is it?'

The ring rolled in front of him, in shock, he looked up seeing a girl that looked his age stood above him. You just tilted your head down at him, smirking with a glint in your eye.

"You plan on laying there til the sun goes down or what?" you hum, lending a hand out for him to grab. He lifts himself up without your help and looks around the room once more.

"How does being average feel?" you ask, prompting yourself to sit on your chair.

"What did you do?" he says, but without his psychic abilities, there would be no way for you to even understand him further than that glare he was putting out.

"Hm?" you sound out, clearly confused before getting the hint that he still remains in denial of his powers no longer with him. "I can't read your thoughts, nor can you make me understand yours."

"What?" he still doesn't seem to get it.

"Talk." you simply put. "Talk with your mouth, you can't talk to me telepathically anymore." You pioint at your lips as you speak, his eyes bulge out before he finally opens his mouth.

"What did you do to me?" he asks, incriminatingly, even with his feet positioned as if he was ready to throw down a fight.

"Your wish, was it not?" you say, tone stating as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You're no longer a psychic, just a simple, average, and mostly un-unique boy from a small city school."

"Aren't you happy, Saiki?" you say, the smile in your face soon showing in your voice.

to be continued...

Part 2

[dixons-sunshine]

i requested for scud but you never replied so im gonna req gf finding out scud works for a blade again

Apologies, Baby | Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Long ago, back when you were only ten years old, vampires murdered your parents and left you an orphan, forcing you into foster care. You hated the species with a passion, and wanted nothing to do with them. So when your boyfriend revealed that he was working for a half-breed, you didn't know how to feel.

Genre: Angst, some fluff towards the end.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death and blood.

Word count: 1.3k

A/n: For some reason your first request never popped up in my inbox, so I'm sorry I didn't see it back then. I hope this is somewhat decent enough to make up for it (I don't really like this). Also, I feel like Scud is a little ooc in this, but I wanted to write a tender moment for our favourite stoner.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Baby, could you please just listen to me? It's not like you think, okay?”

You shook your head and let out a bitter laugh, clutching your side tightly as you limped away from your boyfriend. Bruises littered your skin, the recent vampire attack you had found yourself in taking its painful toll on you.

Everything was a blur. One minute, you were walking back to your apartment after a long shift at work. The next, some creep in a mask—later revealed to be a bloodsucking monster—grabbed you and forced you into his car. And a few hours, maybe even days, later, a mysterious man with freakish abilities came to your rescue. Thankfully, the vampire hadn't bit you, but he did take great pleasure in hearing your screams, so he tortured you. Hence the injured side you were currently clutching to.

You had always known of vampires' existence. They were the reason you became an orphan at the mere age of ten years old. And to top it off, nobody believed you when you told them the real story. They were the reason why you were sent to a facility to treat your "absurd beliefs".

You hated vampires and anything to do with them. So it came as a great shock to you that when the mysterious man, who had introduced himself as Blade, took you back to his workshop to tend to your wounds and you found your boyfriend there. The same boyfriend who told you that he was too sick to hang out after your shift. The same boyfriend who lied to you about his job. The same boyfriend who revealed that he was working for a guy who was half vampire.

To say you were pissed would be an understatement.

Scud hurried to you, gently but firmly grabbing your wrist in his hand. He spun you around, forcing you to look at him. His blue eyes gazed down at you, begging, pleading for understanding. For you to listen to him.

“Babe, please. Just... let me clean you up while I explain everything. You deserve that much,” Scud begged, frowning deeply as guilt swarmed around in his beautiful blue eyes.

You shook your head. “Josh, I—”

“Please,” he pleaded. “Just... Please.”

You sighed, giving him a reluctant nod. “Alright,” you agreed, pulling your hand from his grip. “You have until I'm bandaged up.”

In no time at all, you were seated on top of what you assumed was Scud's workbench while your boyfriend carefully helped you out of your shirt, leaving you clad in only your bra. The wound on your side was deep, but it luckily didn't look like it needed stitches.

“You probably want that explanation now, huh?” he asked, breaking the silence well he brought a washcloth with lukewarm water closer to clean your wound.

You hissed in pain when the cloth made contact with your side. “Yeah,” you said through gritted teeth. “I was promised an explanation.”

A few beats of silence passed. Scud sighed and shut his eyes momentarily, as if gathering his thoughts. “You remember that week before we got together, when I came home from my hiking trip and I was all messed up?” When you nodded, he continued. “I was attacked by two bloodsuckers. They tore into me and wanted to drain me of my blood. The only reason I came out of that situation alive was because B saved me. He brought me back here and patched me back together. I owe him a debt because of that.”

You frowned and brought a hand to rest on Scud's cheek. He instantly nuzzled against your hand, sighing in content at the warm feeling. You didn't know this, but when Blade had relayed your full name to him over the radio, he was out of his mind with worry. He nearly abandoned everything just to go after Blade and make sure that he brought you back in one piece. You were important to him. You were the only girl who would put up with him and his habits with a smile on your face. You were the only girl that actually ever meant anything to him.

“B saw what I could do, what gadgets I could make, and he decided that I would make a great addition to his team, so to speak,” Scud continued, withdrawing from your touch and switching over to clean the wounds on your hands. “It was a great opportunity for me. This gig meant that I could make things, and not just those shitty fucking mini flamethrowers I made back in college. I mean actually make things. I felt wanted, needed, like I could actually be a part of something bigger for once. That I wouldn't be such a big fucking letdown. I wanted to tell you, especially since I know how you feel about vampires, but B swore me to secrecy. He said that working for him came with risks, and if the bloodsuckers were to find out about you, they would use you to get to me. I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't.”

“So you had to lie to me to keep me safe,” you concluded, realisation dawning on you.

“Please believe me when I say that I didn't want to,” he said hurriedly, halting his movements with the bandage and looking deeply into your eyes. “I never wanted to lie to you. Hurting you was something I didn't want to do, ever. I love you so much.”

A minute of silence passed between you. Scud was anxious, his hands nervously fidgeting with the bandage that was now wrapped securely around your hand. The last thing he wanted was for you to hate him. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.

“So this Blade guy... He hunts vampires?” you finally asked, taking him by surprise.

“Yeah,” Scud confirmed, nodding his head.

“Why? Isn't he like them?”

“Yes, in a sense. He has all of their abilities, but only the good ones. The only bad thing of his is that he inherited their thirst. Thankfully we have a serum that helps him with that. B's cool, I swear.”

You pondered over his words for a moment before letting out a small sigh. “I don't like it,” you began, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer, much to Scud's suprise and great delight. “You know how I feel about vampires, but that Blade guy did save my life, so I guess he's okay.”

Scud gave you a smile. “He is, I promise you.”

“So as long as you promise me that you'll stay safe, and promise to keep me in the loop with what happens around here, I guess I can learn to live with it. You look like you're enjoying yourself.”

Scud smiled brightly and brought you into a hug, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “I love you.”

“I love you too. You're my little stoner baby. Nothing's gonna change that.”

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Punchline pt. 1/3 - Buggy / Reader

Ch. 1 : Setup

Synopsis: Buggy is devastated that his s/o can't remember him.

Warnings: Slight Angst, Mentions of Blood and Injury, Some Cussing, Reader is so oblivious it physically hurts to watch

Tags: F!Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Not Proofread

Disclaimer: Guys I'm not rly into the lore of OP but I got a bad case of brainrot for the LA characters.

Sincerely sorry in case anything seems a lil' OOC or AU!

"Get. Out."

Buggy's voice may appear calm on the outside, yet it was low and laced with an unspoken threat. His words directed to the crew medic that was currently standing in the doorframe of the captains lair, not daring to move an inch.

And yet he wouldn't leave, instead gulping nervously as Buggy's icy glare kept him rooted on spot. To get a glimpse of the unconscious body in the back of the cabin, he dared breaking eye contact and peeking over his captain's shoulder - much to the displeasure of the latter.

"B-But boss" the man managed to wring out, stuttering in negative anticipation of the consequences. "You haven't let anyone close to her since the...incident. I-I really need to re-examine her wounds-"

"Do not make me repeat myself!" the clown sharpy cut off his subordinate, absentmindedly moving the daggers in his hands to soothe his nerves. "You better be grateful that you're of use to me." No, her, he corrected himself mentally, "Otherwise you'd be dead meat already. Now get lost."

As soon as the heavy wooden door shut, Buggy sent one of his daggers to pierce the place his crewmate had just occupated. How ironic he thought - a few years prior someone daring to talk back to him would've gotten pierced with no hesitation.

It was no news that Buggy had gotten softer ever since you stumbled into his life, and he still didn't know if it was for better or worse.

Anyways, his crewmates started to notice the subtle changes in their once feared - and loathed - captain.

Not that it mattered right now. As long as your life was still on the line, he couldn't care less about his reputation.

The man let out a deep, aggravated sigh before turning on that damn uncomfortable stool to face you again. Godfuckingdamnit, he never realized what a drunk he had become until he actually had to stay sober for your sake.

It had been three weeks already, and still no sign of recovery. You were still unconscious - no wonder, with injuries that heavy it was a miracle that you were even alive. And all this time Buggy refused to leave your side even for one second, watching you like a feral guard dog.

Not even his most loyal men had seen him this devastated before.

Right now you were staining the sheets of Buggy's bed with your own blood, having soaked through the bandages again. Nothing your lover couldn't fix though - he'd be damned if he weren't able to take proper care of you himself!

After all, he had once promised to give you the world.

And even when you humbly declined this great announcement of his back then, Buggy had already long since decided that you deserved nothing less.

In fact - though he would never openly say it aloud - you might be the only thing he held higher than himself.

Those kinds of sentiments were new to him and certainly didn't come easy either, but underneath it all he cared so deeply for you that it frightened him sometimes...

...exactly because of moments like those that leave him all helpless.

The very same man that sacrificed even his own men if it meant he could get away unharmed now wished to take this pain on your stead. Hell, even all of his riches he would gladly cast away if it meant seeing you smile again.

Instead he was left only being able to watch you suffer, maybe crack a joke or two in hope you might in fact hear him somehow.

"Now wake up, would you...this ain't funny" he muttered under a shaky breath, his hand lingering on your cheek for a bit longer after having placed a wet cloth on your forehead.

Maybe the sobriety made him clear-headed for a change, or it was the simple fact that you were alone, and therefore he could drop his usual facade.

Whatever it was, it urged him to speak from the heart.

"Shit, Y/N, I almost lost you there..." The man buried his face in his hands, voice cracking as he remembered how bravely you shielded him with your own body, saving him from a possibly lethal attack. "That shit could've cost you your life! And for what? Saving someone like me?! Quit joking!"

Well, truth be spoken, from his point of view this whole relationship was ridiculous from the very start - a joke without punchline, some might say.

Nonetheless, even though he had yet to understand how he of all people ended up so lucky, he wouldn't change it for the world.

For a moment he was contemplating whether to lie down next to you - and honestly, the temptation to cradle you in his arms was far too great to put into words - yet he refrained from doing so. You needed space either way, and he felt somewhat undeserving of your closeness after he had failed to protect you, after all.

"Of course he could lie down next to you - and in all honesty the temptation to cradle you in his arms was more like a need to him - but he refrained from doing so. You needed space either way, and he felt undeserving of your closeness after he had failed to protect you.

"You just wait, I'll become even flashier for your sake!" he promised with a determination, almost like newfound purpose. "Something like this won't happen again, promise!"

Squeezing your hands ever so slightly, he placed a kiss on your knuckles before wrapping the blanket to cover you completely. "I may be an egoistical, worthless scumbag but I'd do anything for you! Just get well, that's all I ask."

It was already way past midnight, and Buggy was still sitting on the chair next to your bedside, his face buried in the mattress as he collapsed due to exhaustion...

...yet he jolted up as soon as he felt you move.

Your face was contorting in pain as you stirred on the bed, basically your whole body aching - and the hammering sensation in your forehead was the worst of it all.

"Heya, Honey!" A way too enthusiastic voice exclaimed, "Was about time you woke up."

Due to your ears still ringing you could barely understand, all you gathered from the sound was that you were not alone in this almost completely dark room.

Panic began to rise in your chest because when the pain finally ebbed away, it made room for you to realize the complete void in your mind.

Where- no, who are you?!

Almost violently casting away the sheet you were tangled in, you frantically scanned your brain for some kind of hint, any memory at all, no matter how trivial...

...yet were left with noting but a vast emptiness.

"Hey! Heyheyheyheyhey!" That apparently male voice again, cutting your pondering out just before you hyperventillated yourself into collapsing. "You're having a panic attack or something?"

"Shh" the unfamiliar voice started to hush you - his tone mixed with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher - yet very obviously overchallenged with soothing someone. "It's alright, don't overdo it. You just woke up."

That person gently grabbed the sides of your shoulders, guiding you back to lie down again. You were too weak to struggle against that foreign touch either way...

...but there was also such a great and genuine concern present in his tone, that this stranger did seem to miraculously calm you down to some extent.

No matter who this man was, it seemed that he was really worried for your wellbeing.

From what you could assess already, at least it seemed like you were in a safe place, and with someone who nurses your injured self back to health at that...

...however, ultimatively that false impression of safety would quickly disappear as soon as you opened your eyes.

Blinking heavily so your sight would adapt to the almost nonexistent light source of the room, the blurred outline of a person would finally become more detailed - and what you then saw made your blood run cold.

His usual trademark grin appeared as a menacing gnarl to you, unknowingly making your fear even worse as he suddenly watched your face becoming drained of any colour.

"What the fuck-!" you screeched at this sight of a literal horror clown, reaching out to get you like straight out of a nightmare. Immediately shuffling away from him, you fell over the edge of the bed just to be caught into his very arms again.

"Dear, are you alri-"

"Leave me alone!" you then screamed, lashing out at the man while starting to sob uncontrollably.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Buggy would now snap back at you - admittedly not the best way to deal with the situation.

You yelled and cursed and cried as the man struggled to keep you trapped in his embrace, in a naive hope that you'd calm down and then maybe talk about whatever in the world had gotten into you - but to no avail as it seemed, since with every second passing you only got more hysterical.

"I'm starting to get angry, dollface" the killer clown chuckled darkly, a little out of breath at least, since you could still put up quite a fight. "Don't make me use my powers on you!"

Damn, sometimes he forgot that even while appearing all frail and innocent, you could pack a proper punch- and he got a harsh reminder of it as soon as your fist hit the bottom of his chin.

"Heh, feisty little thing. Now that's my girl!" He laughed, relieved to see you being so lively again - yet his insane, dark chuckle had the exact opposite effect he was hoping for. He wiped the blood from his bottom lip, the red liquid mixing with the make-up around his mouth. "Well, I warned ya."

If you thought to be at your lowest before, you surely didn't anticipate the man in front of you to just casually detach both his hands as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"M-Monster!" you shrieked as the gloved hands started flying to your direction, pausing for a sheer second as the word that fell from your lip made his chest narrow.

"Don't to-ouch me, you freak!" Ouch. That one hurt more than he cared to admit, so he covered it up by acting all confident and amused. "Takes one to know one, love."

Still, Buggy refused to believe that he or his presence might be responsible for this mess. He might've done a ton of mistakes in his life, but he was proud to call you one of the - if not the best - things he ever did right!

You must've hit your head really badly to act like this.

"It's only for your own good, sweetheart." Why the hell was that asshole calling you those names? To degrade you? To show you he doesn't take you serious?

No use in brooding about something so trivial as the most apparent threat were his hands. They were way too fast anyways, so you unsucessfully warded them off. Your wrists got pinned behind your back, tugging on you to lie on the bare floor, incapable to move.

"If you keep moving so recklessly your wounds will reopen, dear." You furrowed your brows together in confusion, eyeing the figure approaching you varily. "Look, I'll explain everything okay? Just calm down and let me help you. Stop making it harder than it has to be."

Never.

Trying to make any sense out of this situation left you with the only logical explanation: This...person right there was a pirate who - for whatever reason - had kidnapped and abused you to this point.

No matter how you ended up here, you needed to flee and get help, the sooner the better!

With every firm step of his towards you your alarm bells rang louder and louder, but your body was still weak and you had a disadvantage in both power and knowledge of your surroundings.

So you saved up your last ounce of strenght for one last, desperate attack.

"C'mon" he now said with a way more tender voice, and admittedly it was almost alluring in it's sound, weirdly enough pulling on your heartstrings. "Let's get you back to bed, should we? I swear upon the little honor I have, I'd never hurt you."

Liar.

"Fuck you!" you then roared just when he had crouched down in front of you, the force of your kick having sent him a good distance away and into the next best wall.

It took everything to not faint right then and there, but no matter who you were before all this, it seemed like you were no ordinary human either. So you went even beyond those limits and forced your legs to keep going...

...but not without shooting one last, derogatory and disgusted look towards your tormentor.

Buggy reached out of the collapsed wall with a shaky hand, your attack having kicked all air out of his lungs. He mutely called your name in between coughs and almost-sobs, still worried and wanting to plead for you to stay...

...but then you silenced him with a sentence that will be carved into his heart forever:

"Better not chase me, you ugly freak."

Maybe this was the punchline to the cruel joke that was your relationship after all.

[Next Chapter]