#JUST SHATTERED MY KNEES THE WAY I FELL TO THEM OH MY GOD

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　MIDNIGHT COMPANY

chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: While filming a car video, the triplets witness a girl - Y/N - arguing with her boyfriend. When he smashes her phone and leaves her alone at midnight in the middle of a random parking lot, Chris steps in.

WARNING: Toxic relationship, yelling, fighting, being hurt physically and emotionally, manipulation, panicking.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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Y/N didn't meant for things to end up like that.

She really didn't.

She was just walking alongside her boyfriend through the Target aisles, her eyes darting nervously between the shelves and the floor.

But she should know better. He had already been irritated when they left the apartment - something about her taking too long to get ready - and now, every move she made felt like a mistake.

"Stick close." Her boyfriend had muttered, his voice low but firm. His eyes darted around the store, scanning the aisles of brightly colored products with an air of impatience. "I don’t want to spend all night in here."

Y/N nodded quickly, her throat dry.

"Okay."

They made their way down the main aisle, her boyfriend grabbing a few items and putting them into the cart with little regard. It was always like that; he made the decisions, and she just agreed and moved on.

He paused at the end of that same aisle, scanning the shelves with a discerning eye. She lingered a few steps behind, observing.

He grabbed a box of granola bars from the shelf, tossing it into the cart with a louder thud. She winced at the sound, her stomach knotting with unease.

"Why are you standing there? Do you see the cereal we get?" He asked, his tone clipped.

Her throat tightened. She scanned the shelves frantically, her eyes moving over the rows of colorful boxes. She wasn’t sure if it was the green box or the blue one.

"Um, I think..." She started, reaching hesitantly toward one of the options.

"Don’t think. Look." He snapped, already sounding exasperated.

Her hand faltered, and she pulled it back. Her heart was pounding, and her palms had grown clammy against the leather strap of her purse. She wanted to go home.

They turned into the household goods section, where shelves were lined with glass containers, picture frames, and other fragile items. Her boyfriend stopped abruptly, examining a set of drinking glasses with a critical eye.

"Do you think these match the ones we already have?" He asked, holding up a box with pretty crystal wine glasses.

Y/N hesitated, unsure if he wanted an answer or was just thinking out loud.

"I-I think so."

Her boyfriend sighed, setting the box down with a clatter.

"You’re not even paying attention."

"I am." She said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper, desperately searching for his free hand. "I promise."

"Whatever." He muttered, letting her squeeze his fingers once before dropping hers, moving on.

Y/N quickly followed, trying to stay out of his way, her eyes fixed on his tall figure, crossing her hands in front of her body and forcing her brain to pay more attention to anything he touched or pointed out. She couldn't risk him thinking that she didn't care.

As she passed by one of the shelves, her purse brushed against a precariously balanced display of small vases. Time seemed to slow as the first vase teetered, then fell, hitting the shelf below it and sending a chain reaction through the display.

Crash!

The sound was deafening. Glass shattered across the floor, the pieces glinting under the white lights. Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat. She stared at the mess, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest.

"Oh my god. Are you serious?" Her boyfriend hissed under his breath.

She dropped to her knees instinctively, trembling as she tried to gather the pieces with her bare hands.

"I’m sorry." She whispered, her voice trembling and desperate.

"You're fucking nbelievable." He muttered under his breath, loud enough for her to hear.

She stopped for a moment, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t crying because of the spilled glasses. It wasn’t even about the moment itself. It was about the weight of knowing that every mistake she made was a reason for him to get tired of her. To leave her.

"I’m sorry." She whispered, again and again, the words tumbling out of her mouth as though they might undo the damage. "I’m so s-sorry."

But it wasn’t just an apology. It was an instinctive response, born from the fear of making him feel any sort of negative emotion at all. She knew that he wouldn’t brush this off, wouldn’t laugh, and say it was no big deal. He would be mad, and she couldn't let him get mad at her. Not again.

She desperately wanted to shrink herself down into something more digestible for him at that moment. Something he could chew up, spit out, and discard - like gum.

A woman at the end of the aisle glanced over, her expression a mix of surprise and concern. A man on the opposite side peeked around the corner, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

Y/N’s face burned with humiliation. She felt their stares on her, for sure, full of judgment. Her hands fumbled over the shards, shaking too hard to pick them up properly.

Her boyfriend crouched down beside her, his expression now unusually calm. His hand landed on her shoulder, but the grip was firm, bordering on painful.

"Y/N, honey, stop. You’re going to hurt yourself."

"I’m sorry." She whispered again, the tears on her eyes starting to burn her orbs with the force she used to stop the drops from escaping. She couldn’t let him see her break. She’d learned the hard way that crying only made him angrier.

"Stop it." He said more firmly, moving his hand through her arm, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from the glass. He looked up at the people looking back at them and forced a polite, almost apologetic smile. "She’s... a little clumsy. Always has been. Right, honey? I know you didn’t mean to. You can’t help it, can you?"

Y/N stiffened, her stomach churning. She forced her head to move up and down, the movement coming out almost robotic.

"You’re just... distracted. All the time." He continued, his smile cold and tight. "That’s why these things happen. You can’t focus."

She wanted to argue, to tell him that she wasn’t some careless mess, but the words died in her throat. What good would it do?

"Here." He said, taking an empty cardboard box near them and shoving the pieces to the side with it, taking it all out of the way. "There. Fixed. See?"

She nodded, swallowing hard.

"Now, get up."

She stood, her knees wobbling slightly as she adjusted the strap of her purse. He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her skin.

"It’s okay." He continued, speaking louder now so the others could hear. "She just gets a little overwhelmed sometimes. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of this."

The man at the end of the aisle nodded, giving her boyfriend a small, understanding smile. The woman pursed her lips and turned away, muttering something about how 'accidents happen'.

"Let’s go." He said through clenched teeth as he started walking toward the exit.

"But-"

"No." His voice was low, but the warning was clear. He smiled tightly at the few remaining onlookers as he dragged her past them.

Her face burned with humiliation, but she kept quiet, her eyes glued to the floor. His grip tightened when her feet seemed to disobey her brain, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.

The automatic doors slid open, and the cool night air rushed over her, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her head. Her boyfriend’s pace didn’t slow, his hand still gripping her skin as he led her toward the parking lot.

Her heart was pounding, her thoughts spiraling into chaos. She felt like a child being scolded, small and powerless, her voice locked somewhere deep inside her throat.

When they reached the car, he finally let go of her arm, shoving her away as if she were a piece of garbage. She stumbled slightly, catching herself against the side of the car, waiting for whatever came next.

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From the other side of their spot in the parking lot, the triplets were parked, their van slightly away from the main entrance. It was Wednesday night, and they were filming their weekly video, the interior of the van alive with yells and laughter.

"... No, seriously, people do that sometimes." Chris said, turning slightly towards Matt while trying to prove his point. "Patches O'Houlihan, he did that."

Matt scoffed, looking at him with an 'are you serious?' look.

"From Dodgeball? The fictional character?" He laughed incredulously, looking at Nick through the rearview, ready for another weird thing to come out of Chris's mouth.

Nick's attention, however, wasn’t on him - or them, for that matter. It was on the world outside. He always had a habit of scanning his surroundings, probably in a way of caring for himself and his brothers.

As Chris kept going, earning a loud groan from Matt, Nick’s eyes caught movement across the parking lot, almost exactly in front of their van. Near one of the parked cars, a couple stood in the golden glow of a streetlamp.

Nick’s stomach twisted. Something about the way the guy loomed over the girl, his gestures sharp and erratic, immediately set off alarm bells. The girl was visibly distressed, her arms crossed over her chest, her posture shrinking with every second.

Without thinking, Nick leaned forward and slapped Chris on the shoulder, interrupting him.

"Nick, what the-" Chris began, turning sharply, his annoyance evident.

"Shut up." Nick hissed, his voice low but firm, cutting through Chris’s protest. He nodded toward the couple. "Look."

Chris frowned but followed Nick’s gaze, his expression shifting from irritation to curiosity and then to concern. Matt, who had been in the middle of adjusting his hoodie, leaned closer to the windshield.

"What’s going on?" Matt asked, his voice quieter now.

Nick didn’t answer, instead reaching for the button to lower his window, easing it down. A faint, angry voice carried into the van, growing clearer as the man’s yelling intensified.

"... do you even understand how embarrassing you are?"

The girl stood frozen, her arms clutching her sides as though trying to hold herself together. Her head was bowed, her hair shielding her face from the world. She didn’t respond, didn’t dare to look up, and that only seemed to fuel his anger.

"What the fuck?" Matt muttered, leaning forward slightly to get a better look, his eyes glued to the scene.

"You think I’m joking?" He snapped, stepping closer to her. "You think I enjoy having every pair of eyes in that store on me because you can’t manage to walk without causing a damn scene?" The man continued, stepping closer to her.

Her response was so soft that it barely reached the triplets’ ears.

"I’m sorry..."

"Sorry?" The man laughed bitterly. "You’re always sorry. You’re sorry when you spill coffee, you’re sorry when you trip over your own feet, and now you’re sorry for knocking over half a shelf like a goddamn child?"

The girl flinched at his words, biting her bottom lip while taking a small - almost imperceptible - step back.

Chris tensed after watching her reaction, his jaw tightening.

"This guy’s a piece of-"

"Chris, shush." Matt snapped, his voice low.

"I told you before, didn’t I? Stop acting like a fool every time we’re out in public. This is for your own good." The man spat.

"I didn’t mean to-" She started, but he cut her off quickly.

"Shut up!" He barked, his voice echoing across the lot. She shrank back, her body trembling. "You know better than to talk back to me." He growled, taking another step closer.

"I wasn’t-"

"Stop talking!" He barked, his voice echoing across the empty lot probably louder than intended. "Every time you open your mouth, you make it worse. Do you even understand that? Or are you too stupid to figure it out?"

Tears accumulated inside her eyeballs, shining below the lights.

"Look, I’ll call an Uber, okay?" Y/N murmured, her voice cracking. "You can go home and calm down. Please."

"Oh, you’ll call an Uber? Sure, let’s waste more of my money on your screw-ups." The man’s laugh was sharp and bitter.

She reached into her purse, her hands shaking as she pulled out her phone, unlocking it and trying to search for tha app, being harshly interrupted when the man snatched the device from her grip with such force that she stumbled.

Chris shifted uncomfortably, his fists clenched on his lap.

"Do we step in?"

"I don't think we should, not right now." Nick whispered.

"Give it back. Please, baby." She asked, her voice weak, trembling.

"Why? So you can text your little friends about what a terrible boyfriend I am?" He sneered, holding the phone high above his head.

Y/N's mouth dropped open, her wet eyes widening as if he had just committed the worst crime.

"Baby, please." She begged, her tears now falling freely, causing her voice to break. "I would never ever do that. I love you so much, you know that, right?"

He ignored her. With a single, violent motion, he hurled the phone to the ground. The sound of glass and plastic shattering against the pavement echoed in the silence.

She recoiled as though the blow had landed on her instead of the device, a squeak involuntarily escaping from her mouth. Her arms wrapped tighter around herself as she stared at the broken pieces. Her whole life, broken.

"Should've had taken that shit from you sooner." The man spat, shaking his head. "Pathetic. Can’t do anything right."

Matt and Nick exchanged horrified glances through the rearview, Chris's face pale by their side.

"P-please, don't leave me here, baby. I love you, I'm so sorry." The girl begged, gluing her hands in a praying gesture in front of her body. "I promise I'll do better."

"I can't even look at your face right now." The man shook his head. "I need some time, okay?" He didn't wait for an answer before storming off to the driver-side of his car, slamming the door and speeding out of the lot, tires screeching against the asphalt.

Y/N stood frozen, her trembling figure illuminated by the lights and the moon.

Chris didn’t think. One second, he was staring at her, and the next, his hand was on the van door handle, yanking it open.

"Chris!" Matt hissed from the driver’s seat. "What are you doing?"

"Chris- what the fuck?!" Nick added, his voice urgent but not loud enough to stop him.

But Chris couldn’t wait. He couldn’t sit there any longer, watching this girl suffer alone.

He bolted from the van, the cool night air hitting him like a slap, but he barely noticed. His long strides carried him across the parking lot, his heart pounding not from his pace but from pure urgency.

"Oh my god, he's crazy!" Matt’s groan echoed from behind him, but it was distant, like background noise.

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

The closer he got, the more his stomach churned. Her face was streaked with tears, her cheeks blotchy and raw from crying. But she wasn’t just crying. She was panicking. He could see it in the way her hands trembled uncontrollably, and in the way her breath came in short, sharp gasps.

Chris slowed as he approached her, not wanting to startle her. She was staring at the exit of the parking lot, her wide, unfocused and tear-filled eyes locked on the gate arm as though it was the only thing anchoring her to the ground.

"Hey." He said softly, his voice gentle but firm.

She flinched, her head snapping up, and her gaze locked on him as she took a step back. For a moment, she looked utterly terrified, and Chris's throat tightened.

He quickly held his hands up, palms out, trying to show her he wasn’t a threat.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay." He said quickly. "I just... I saw what happened, and I wanted to check if you’re okay."

Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, a fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks. She shook her head, taking another step back, her back almost hitting the metal post of the streetlight.

"You don’t have to be scared." Chris said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I’m not going to hurt you, I swear. I just want to help."

She looked at him again, her watery eyes studying his face as though trying to figure out if he was lying.

Chris took a cautious step closer, keeping his movements slow.

"You’re shaking." He said gently. "It's freezing out here. Can I... can I give you my hoodie?"

She blinked at him, her brows furrowing slightly.

"Why?" She croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because it’s cold, and you’re upset, and I’d feel better if you weren’t standing out here like this." Chris said honestly, shrugging off his hoodie - ignoring how the hairs on his arm fully stood up with the cold air - and holding it out to her.

She hesitated, her eyes darting from his face to the piece of clothing, then back again.

"It’s okay." Chris reassured her. "You don’t have to take it, but I promise it’s clean. And warm."

After what felt like an eternity, she slowly reached out and took the hoodie from him. Her hands were trembling so much that she almost dropped it, but she managed to pull it to her chest, pressing it against her covered skin.

"Thank you." She mumbled, her voice shaky.

Chris exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

"Of course. What’s your name?" He asked in a soft tone. "I'm Chris."

She blinked her eyes at him, frowning, clearly surprised by the question.

"Y-Y/N." She said hesitantly.

"Y/N." He repeated, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "It’s really nice to meet you... Um, do you want to sit down? You look like you need a second."

She looked around the parking lot again before nodding slowly, and Chris gestured to the curb nearby. He waited until she sat down before taking a seat a few feet away, giving her space but staying close enough that she wouldn’t feel alone.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"I’m fine." She finally said - even though it wasn't what Chris was expecting to hear, her voice cutting through the silence, hoarse and shaky.

Chris tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing.

"I don’t think you are."

"I am." She insisted, but her voice cracked on the words, betraying her.

Chris turned his face slightly to the side to meet her eyes, curving his upper body, trying to make himself seem less imposing.

"I know you don’t know me. Well, only my name now." He said softly. "But I can tell you’re not fine. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be. Not after that."

She bit her lower lip hard, and for a second, Chris thought she might break down again. But instead, she straightened her spine, her trembling hands wiping at her tear-streaked face.

"It's not as bad as it looked. He was just angry." She said quietly, almost as if she was saying that to herself. "It’s not his fault. I... I messed up."

Chris’s heart sank at her words.

"You didn’t mess up." He said firmly, his voice laced with conviction.

She shook her head, her hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie tightly.

"I did. I dropped something, broke it, actually. It was stupid, and it drew attention to us, and... and he doesn’t like that. He was just trying to make me understand."

Chris stared at her, his chest tightening painfully.

"That’s not okay." He said softly. "No one should treat you like that, no matter what happened."

"You don’t understand." She said, her voice rising slightly as she hugged herself tighter. "He just... he gets frustrated sometimes, but it’s because he cares. He doesn’t mean to be mean."

Chris’s jaw clenched, a mix of anger and sadness boiling inside him.

"Love isn’t supposed to be like that, Y/N." He said gently. "It’s not supposed to hurt you and leave you standing in a parking lot crying, shaking, and alone."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears again, and she looked away, staring at the ground as if she couldn’t bear to meet his gaze.

"You don’t know him." She whispered, shaking her head vehemently.

Chris wanted to scream, to grab her shoulders, and shake her until she understood that what she was describing wasn’t love. It was control, manipulation, and abuse. But even though he had never helped a victim of a toxic and abusive relationship before, he knew he should keep his voice calm, so he did it, maintaining his tone soft and steady.

"You’re right." He said. "I don’t know him. But I know what I saw, and I can only imagine what it feels like to have someone make you think you’re the problem when you’re not."

Her head whipped toward him, her eyes narrowing.

"You don’t know anything about me."

Chris held up his hands.

"You’re right again. I don’t. But I’m not here to judge you. I’m here because I want to help. No strings, no expectations. Just... let me help. I can't leave you alone here for the rest of the night."

She shook her head again, her hands trembling as she brushed her hair out of her face.

"I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. It isn't fair to him. He’d be so heartbroken if he knew."

Chris watched her for a second too long.

"But you deserve to talk to someone." He finally said. "You deserve to feel safe."

"I am safe!" She snapped, her voice ringing out in the empty parking lot. The declaration sounded hollow, as if she was trying to convince herself more than him.

Chris took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second.

"I just want to help you." He said, his tone pleading. "Do you have someone you can call? A family member, a friend? You can use my phone-"

Her reaction was immediate and panicked. She shook her head furiously, her eyes wide with fear as her body tightened, seeming ready to stand up and run.

"No! No, I can’t call anyone."

"Why not?" Chris asked gently, though his heart was racing, his eyes traveling quickly to his car where his brothers were before going back to Y/N. "They’d want to help you, just like I do."

"I said no!" She cried, her voice cracking. Her breathing was shallow and quick now, teetering on the edge of hyperventilation. "You don’t understand. I can’t just call someone. And you... you need to go. God, you shouldn’t even be here."

Chris frowned, his brows knitting together.

"Please, I’m just trying to-"

"You don’t get it." She interrupted, her voice hushed but frantic. She glanced around the parking lot as though expecting her boyfriend to be there somewhere, watching them. "He’s going to come back. And if he sees you here, if he thinks... you need to leave. Now."

Chris’s stomach dropped at the sheer terror in her voice.

"Y/N, he won't hurt you in any type of way while I'm here with you. I can promise you that." He moved a bit closer again, careful not to make any sudden movement. "Let me do something for you. Anything, please."

"You can’t." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "No one can. Please, just go. He’s going to be here soon, and I-I can’t let him see you."

She was holding onto that story like it was a lifeline, but the way her hands trembled and her breath hitched betrayed her doubt.

"What if he doesn’t?" Chris asked gently. "What if he’s not coming back tonight?"

Her face fell for a brief moment before she quickly masked it, straightening up.

"He will." She said, though there was no conviction in her tone. "He always does."

Chris nodded, looking around dismissively.

"Okay. Maybe he will. But just in case... maybe you could let me help you. You don’t have to trust me, I get that. I'm a stranger. But let me offer you something. A safe place to wait."

"I don’t have anywhere to go." She admitted, her voice so quiet it was almost lost in the night air. "Just our house. And I don't think I should go back there now."

Chris’s heart twisted at her words and how uncertain they sound, but he kept his expression neutral, careful not to show pity.

"Okay." He said softly. "Then maybe you can just... talk to me. You don’t have to get in my car. We can sit out here. I’ll stay right here in the open where you can see me."

She hesitated, her eyes darting to the ground.

"Why do you care so much?"

Chris crossed his legs above the pavement, relaxing his posture further.

"Because I know what it’s like to feel like you’re on your own." He said simply. "And because I don’t think anyone should have to go through something like this alone. You don’t deserve that."

She hesitated, her gaze watching her hands above her thighs.

"I won’t call the police unless you want me to." Chris added. "I won’t push you to do anything you don't want to do. But you don’t have to deal with this alone."

Her lip quivered, and she closed her eyes tightly, her voice barely a whisper.

"I don’t even know what I’d do."

Chris’s heart ached for her, but he kept his tone steady.

"How about this." He said. "I’ll stay with you until you figure that out. If you want, I can take you to a hotel, or I can help you find somewhere else to stay for the night. But whatever you decide, I’m not going to leave you here."

She was silent for a long time, her shoulders rising and falling with each shaky breath. Finally, she nodded, just once.

"Okay." She said.

Chris exhaled slowly, relief washing over him.

"Okay." He echoed.

For the first time that night, she looked at him fully, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and cautious hope.

He opened his widest smile in response, leaning back slightly with his palms against the curb behind his back and glancing up at the sky.

"You know." He started, his tone casual. "This isn’t exactly the way I imagined spending my Wednesday night."

Her eyes scanned his face carefully, frowning, feeling like she was the one to destroy his day - or night.

"What do you mean?" She asked hesitantly, her voice hoarse.

Chris shrugged, being careful not to mention his career. He didn't want to overwhelm her.

"Well, usually on Wednesdays, I’m sitting in my van with my brothers, arguing over who gets to pick the fast-food spot. We’re probably debating something ridiculous, too."

That earned him the smallest, almost imperceptible twitch of her lips. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was something. It encouraged Chris to continue.

"My brothers are idiots, by the way." He said, his tone light. "Don’t tell them I said that, though. They'll get big heads thinking I actually pay attention to their nonsense."

Her brow rose slightly, curiosity tugging at the edges of her expression, her body instinctively leaning towards him.

"What are they like?"

Chris chuckled, throwing his head to the side, laying his cheek against his shoulder and looking at her eyes.

"They're amazing. Weird, but amazing. They're so funny in their individual way, always making me laugh so hard that sometimes I feel like I could pass out."

This time, she let out a soft, breathy laugh, and Chris felt a flicker of warmth in his chest. It was small, but it was progress.

"You’re close with them?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah." Chris said, nodding. "It’s hard not to be when you all live and do everything together. But they’re good guys. Annoying as hell, but good."

She looked down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting with the frayed edge of his hoodie sleeve.

"Must be nice." She murmured.

Chris’s smile faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly.

"It is." He admitted. "But, you know, we fight sometimes. Like, really fight. Last week, Matt threw a punch at me because I wouldn’t stop talking during his game."

Her lips twitched again, and this time, it was a small, shy smile.

"What were you saying?" She asked, her voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement.

"Oh, some random shit. Can’t even remember now. Probably something embarrassing, knowing me." Chris grinned. "Matt said I was ruining his concentration, but honestly, I think he just doesn’t appreciate my brain work."

She shook her head slightly, her smile lingering.

"You’re ridiculous." She said softly, almost reflexively, but as soon as the words left her mouth, her expression shifted. Her body tensed up, her shoulders pulling in as her eyes darted to him in alarm. "I didn’t mean-"

"Guilty as charged." Chris smoothly interrupted her, opening a smirk while looking at her, trying to express through his eyes that it was okay. "But, hey, if ridiculous is what it takes to make you laugh, then I’m all in."

Her looked down again at the pavement, scraping her shoes over the small rocks.

"Thanks." She said quietly.

"For what?" Chris asked, his voice gentle.

"For... keeping me company." She said, her gaze fixed on her lap. "I don’t feel... as bad right now."

Chris felt a lump in his throat but pushed it down, keeping his tone light.

"Anytime." He said. "I’ve got a whole arsenal of dumb stories and good jokes if you need them."

She looked at him then, her eyes softer than before.

"You’re really nice." She said, pressing her lips in a fine line.

Chris shrugged, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"I just don’t like seeing people hurt." He said honestly. "And, I don’t know, you seem like someone who deserves a lot better than... all this."

Her eyes filled with tears, and for a moment, Chris thought she might start crying again. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded.

"Thanks." She said again, her voice steadier this time.

Chris gave her a warm smile.

"No problem. Now, how do you feel about bad puns? Because I’ve got a killer one about a duck and a lawyer."

Her laughter filled the cold night air, causing a large smile to stretch across Chris's lips. He would do everything in his power to help this girl.

[navybrat817]

Did you see the Sebastian photo with him in the leather jacket and Bucky hair? The black and white one? He looks so good!!!!!!!!

Is it the image below, nonnie? If so, yes! He looks amazing. So much that I had to share more rocker!Bucky. If not, I'm happy to receive the pic.

Everybody Wants a Taste

Pairing: Rocker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Are you really Bucky's girl? He thinks so. Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, oral implied (m. and f. receiving), possessive behavior, slight jealousy and insecurity, swearing, slight feels (it's me), sort of getting together, communication is key, Rocker!Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Some White Wolf and Luna that no one asked for! This can also count for Week 4 of the @the-slumberparty for Across the Universe!❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner by the amazing @sgt-seabass and banner by the lovely @rookthorne . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When word got around that you were seeing Bucky Barnes, some of your friends back home told you to be careful. Not because you couldn't keep up with the rockstar, but because they didn't want him to throw you out when he eventually grew bored of you. Touching as it was, it was also insulting.

"We're having fun." you said in the group chat. "Nothing wrong with that."

"But everyone wants him!" one of them replied. "What makes you different from the rest?"

What makes you special?

"Nice fucking pep talk. Really. Appreciate the vote of confidence!" you sent.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm a big girl. I can handle myself."

That was the last thing you sent in the chat.

You may have given your phone the finger, too.

As if you needed another reminder that girls, and guys, lined up to get just a glimpse of the man you somehow got to call yours. Some were better looking than you and others were nicer, but you refused to let it shatter your confidence. They didn't click with Bucky the way you did. If he woke up one day and decided he didn't want you, it wouldn't be the end of your world.

You took care of yourself long before you left home and wouldn't depend on a guy for anything. That was something you made clear when you started spending more time with Bucky. At least, you told him once you could form a coherent sentence since he fucked every sane thought out of you.

"It's okay to keep wanting me, Luna."

Being addicted to him wasn't something you anticipated nor did you want to admit that he had a hold on you. If you did, he'd have the entire deck stacked in his favor. But the cocky fucker knew he had you in the palm of his hand and you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Not when you were on your knees worshipping him like the god everyone made him out to be.

You waited for Bucky after rehearsal, knowing he could do with a bit of stress relief. Steve gave you a knowing smirk as he walked by. "Hey, baby," he teased.

“Hey, blondie,” you winked back.

"Don't call my girl 'baby', punk," Bucky said as his friend laughed.

Am I your girl?

Shamelessly allowing your eyes to roam his body as he walked closer, you wondered how he even got his jeans on some days with the heat he was packing. The rest of the band nodded to you as they passed by, knowing exactly what they'd witness if they stuck around.

"I don't remember texting you," Bucky said when he stopped, running his ringed fingers through his hair. "You don't have anything better to do than wait for me?"

Asshole. You're lucky I adore you.

Your eyes narrowed as you pushed yourself off the wall. "Plenty of other things I can be doing that don't involve you."

"C'mon, baby. I'm fucking with you," he smiled as he moved to stand in front of you. "I just figured you might be hanging out with Alice and Sunshine."

"Oh, we did each other's nails and had a pillow fight. Almost fell out of my top as I jumped around," you smiled, leaning against the wall once again.

You liked Alice and Sunshine. You'd be a bitch not to and they understood things that people back home wouldn't get. Jefferson was certainly more cheerful now that he had his girl back in his life. And Hal still adored his high school sweetheart just as much as he had the day before.

What's it like for someone to be loved the way they are?

"And I missed it? That's too bad. Didn't get a facial?"

You arched an eyebrow as he moved a finger along the swell of your breast. "How could I when you weren't there to give me one?"

"I can give you one now," he smirked.

You laughed and shook your head as you tugged him closer by his t-shirt. "I don't know if I want one anymore. I could find something else to quench my thirst."

"We both know you love the taste of my cock."

"Almost as much as you love the taste of my pussy."

He placed both hands on the wall and looked into your eyes as you bit your lip. "My favorite treat. You gonna let me get my mouth on you so I can have my fill?"

"Maybe after you fuck my throat. Maybe," you said before he brought a hand to your throat. He held it there, but didn't squeeze. "So you'd rather choke me with your hand instead of your cock?"

"Luna, baby, don't tease me."

"Isn't teasing just another form of foreplay?" you asked.

The flirty, fun banter never got old with him. Even on the days you didn't have sex, you found yourself smiling at his words and antics. It made it difficult to protect your heart. But like your body, it was yours to give the person you wanted and he had the key to the lock before you knew it.

"I want to see those pretty little lips wrapped around my cock," he stated, tightening his grip when you moaned. "Want you to choke on me before I make a mess of you."

The mere suggestion was enough for your thighs to rub together, tour panties dampening more at the thought of him using your throat to get himself off and paint your face. His thick cock filled every hole of yours to the brim time and time again, reminding you that you belonged to him. But you couldn't always give in so easily. Call it pride or a power move.

You'd both get off in the end.

"Sure you don't want one of your other groupies to suck your cock?"

Everybody wants a taste.

His smirk vanished instantly as he leaned in close enough that you could feel his breath against your lips. You didn't shy away from his gaze, captivated by the blue of his eyes. He liked that you didn't try to hide.

Caught in his trap, you couldn't duck and run if you wanted to.

"I haven't fucked anyone else in weeks," his voice dropped as he shoved his knee between your thighs without warning, your core pulsing as he brushed his lips against yours. "Thought I made it clear that you're my girl."

You swallowed hard enough for Bucky to loosen his grip. If Bucky let you in, that meant something because he didn't give himself away lightly. Sex, he could find that anywhere. Someone to stick around through the highs and lows after was another story.

One you wanted to write with him.

"You never actually asked," you said above a whisper.

It was weak to say it out loud and make him put a label on it, but you wanted to hear it.

"I didn't think I had to ask," he said, kissing the spot between your eyes with a small huff. "I thought you were already mine.”

Your stomach swirled with butterflies. "I thought you were mine, too."

"Because I am. I’m all yours," he whispered, playing dirty by rocking his knee a bit more. You were tempted to slide up a bit more and ride his thigh and weep from knowing he was really yours. "C'mon. Be mine. Be my fucking girl, Luna."

You whined when he brought his lips to yours again. You would have said "yes" regardless. "I'm your girl, but don't you dare break my heart. 'Cause I'll hunt you down and make you sorry if you do. I'll curse that glorious dick of yours, too."

Bucky threw his head back and laughed. The sound brought a smile to your face. "I'd expect nothing less. You better not curse my dick or break my heart either."

His casual tone had an underlying vulnerability that you wouldn't dare joke about.

"You're my guy, Wolfy. I won't hurt you."

And I'll be your Luna no matter what.

"Don't let anyone hear you call me that," he grinned, pulling his knee away to leave you wanting more. Tease. "I have a reputation to uphold."

You smiled as the atmosphere shifted back to the sexual charge. He didn't need to dwell on the emotions for the moment and neither did you. Your heart was full and that was more than enough for today.

"Guess you better shut me up then," you suggested as you reached for his belt.

"Oh, no. Still wanna hear you moan and whine when you take me in your mouth," he stated, stepping back so you could unzip his pants and sink to your knees. "When I'm done, you're gonna sit on my face and sing for me. Those pretty sounds of yours might inspire our next song."

"Call it 'Howl at the Moon'," you smiled up at him. "Dedicate it to me," you added with a wink.

You'd find out later that Bucky already had.

Oh, these two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[teecupangel]

Why not just Desmond being an angel.

And it freaks everybody out and everybody thinks he's holy or something and he's just like "all right okay why not"

It had happened by accident.

It had to be an accident, right?

Altaïr had been thrown out of the room and the Templars had unsheathed their weapons. Malik had been focused on protecting his brother, shouting at him to run as he tried to keep all of the Templars busy.

Robert de Sablé didn’t even look back when he walked away after ordering their death.

Malik didn’t know what happened.

He saw Kadar freeze when he neared the scaffolding that would lead to the treasure and Malik swore his eyes glowed gold for the briefest of moments.

Before one of the Templars charged at him.

Kadar snapped out of it and tried to block, his stance unstable enough that he slipped backwards.

Into the scaffolding…

Taking the Templar with him.

The Templar’s sword struck one of the wooden pillars keeping the scaffolding stable and…

Malik didn’t have any explanation for it.

It shouldn’t have happened.

The scaffolding started to crumble, making Kadar and the Templar run away from it as fast as they could.

And then…

The wall next to the scaffolding began to break apart, golden light coming from the cracks before the entire thing fell down.

Together with the treasure and the ark where it had been resting.

The ark broke in half, splitting in the middle to reveal an egg shaped thing made of stone that was around the height of perhaps Malik when he was sitting on the floor.

The treasure fell on top of it, shattering like it was made of glass.

Where the shards fell on the stone, the stone changed and spread.

Until…

What had been stone had changed to seemingly three pairs of wings with white feathers that seemed to shine gold all curled together.

The wings twitched…

Before slowly opening, stretching to its full size.

Revealing a young man seemingly sleeping, the three pairs of wings attached to his back. His head was resting on his propped up knees.

No one could speak.

No one could move.

Until…

“Altaïr?” Kadar whispered hesitantly and Malik could see why he would call out that fool’s name.

The man looked too much like Altaïr for it to be a coincidence.

Almost as if hearing the name, the man…

No.

The divine being in front of them opened his eyes.

Instead of Altaïr’s golden eyes, his eyes were light brown with specks of gold in them.

And Malik wondered how he could see them from where he was standing, a few meters away from the winged being.

The divine being looked around and blinked.

His eyes met Malik and his lips parted.

“It’s an angel!”

Before he could speak, the Templars all knelt and began to pray.

The Templar who had attacked Kadar took off his helmet and…

It was a woman.

A woman who was praying fervently at the divine being who…

… looked at Malik with wide confused eyes.

Unorganized Notes… I mean… sorta notes?:

Desmond is surprised for a few seconds then he goes “Be not afraid” and tried to sound super impressive “Ye are in the presence of…………… the will of God.” and he’s just bullshiting his way to uuhhh. He has no plans.

He glanced at Malik and Kadar and oh yeah, alright.

“Ye shall not harm these… men of justice for they are… under my protection…?”

At that point, Desmond knows he is ffuuuccckkeedd. Malik is obviously onto him. Kadar is super confused and just keeps staring at his face. Then…

Maria, of all people, agree and even goes as pledge her sword to him which is super weird and Desmond’s just “???”

In the end, Desmond accidentally takes the Templars about to kill Malik and Kadar with him as he leaves the temple with Malik and Kadar. It’s a very awkward journey and Desmond has no idea what else to do other than…

Oh wait… there were other Templars stationed nearby and they all saw him leave with his ‘entourage’.

Before he could try to say anything, Maria speaks for him, calling the messenger of God and that he had been sleeping in the Ark of the Covenant which sounded like a super big deal (and he can’t even whisper to Malik to ask what the hell she was talking about because the Farm was never religious and the only time Desmond even heard of the Ark of the Covenant was from Indiana Jones) and…

… why does it feel like Maria was converting people into becoming his personal army???

Oh god… Was this…

Was he going to take his own army to Masyaf???

[whimsicalpolitical]

Shattered // Matty Healy x Reader

summery: you caught Matty doing the one thing you would’ve never expected him to do. Now you confront him, drunk

warnings: angst

Masterlist

────────────────────────

You are out with your friends in your favorite bar and all you want to do is forget about Matty. Forget about the past 4 years where you’ve been seemingly happy and thinking about how you will marry him some day. Forget about how you were tangled in bed, whispering promises to each other that you will marry some day.

Forget about how you caught him getting his dick sucked by a blonde chick and forget about the way he lied to you and broke his promises that meant everything.

“I don’t wanna talk about it tonight alright? Let’s just have fun,” you explained, raising your glass into the air and toasting to a banger night with your two best friends.

“Fuck him girl,” Lea said, nudging your shoulder slightly. You’ve known her since kindergarten and she knows everything about you. Therefore she knows the ups and downs of your relationship with Matty. But she also knows how much you love him and she always said that he’s whipped for you.

Doesn’t seem like he’s whipped for you now.

You are a few shots down, your friend already dancing on a table top, trying to pick up a guy that has been watching her for the last 20 minutes. You on the other hand don’t leave the bar stool, you keep sitting and keep drinking.

The bar door opens and your eyes drop to two tall men you are very familiar with. Ross and George. Their gaze finds yours and you quickly look away, taking a sip of your cocktail. You feel them coming towards you.

You hear your name but you don’t turn around. Ross sits down on the stool next to yours. “You ok?” He asks and you gulp. Your sight gets worse by the second, the drink in front of you starting to blur, your boyfriend of 4 years cheated and you have no place to stay in. You are not okay.

“Yeah,” you ex the cocktail and stand up, not even daring to look at them. They share a look and George finds your arm to steady you, after you almost fell down the little step.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you hiss and push his arm away from you. You walk towards the door, Lea and Maya not realizing that you’re about to leave on your own.

“C’mon,” George says, almost shouting your name at your attend to get away, “you’re not safe to go on your own.”

You laugh, “like you care,” you shout, already out the door. You pull a cigarette and a lighter out of your purse. “We do.” Ross says, his eyes full of pitty.

“Yeah? You care?” Sounds too ironic for you, “didn’t care enough to tell me your mate was cheating on me did you.” You let your back find the brick wall and you slide down.

-

It’s almost the end of tour and you are so relieved, you finally get to spend enough time with your boyfriend.

You couldn’t go to the boys immediately after the concert because you had an important business phone call. But now you’re on your way backstage. There are people cleaning up and packing up the things but you can’t find any of the boys.

You move to Mattys’ dressing room when you hear him. “Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. Your first instinct was that he was hurt, reminding you of all the times he hurt himself on stage, unintentionally.

You speed up your movements, opening the door quickly, “Matt are you-.” You are immediately in shock when you see the scene in front of you. Your boyfriend’s head leaning back, mouth open, his hair completely in a mess. A blonde woman on her knees, her mouth around his dick.

Matty’s head shoots up and he pulls her off him in one movement. “Oh my god,” he says your name but you’re already turning around, starting to run at the complete other direction. You just want to get out. “Fuck, get off me!” You hear him yelling but you don’t care because he didn’t seem to mind to have her on him minutes ago. The tears are blurring your sight and you can’t even wipe them properly without them flowing again.

“Wait.” He screams at you but you’re already out and away.

-

That was the last time you saw Matty and the last time you spoke to any of them. Everyone tried calling you but you didn’t want to fuck with any of them. They betrayed you. All of them.

“We didn’t know,” George said, squatting next to you, “he’s a fucking dickhead but he’s sorry.”

You clap your hands, “oh he’s sorry, that’s fucking amazing. He cheats on me but he’s sorry so that makes it okay!” You inhale the smoke so hard, believing that if it hits your lungs you can finally forget.

“He made a mistake, listen to him at least? He’s fucking miserable.” You can’t believe what you’re hearing. They don’t have the right to come at you and tell you how shit he is, because it doesn’t come near as how you are feeling.

You look up at Ross through your teary eyes. He pulls his lips together, letting them form a straight line. You reach your arm out, waiting for him to pull you up. He does and you fall against him. He grips your waist and steadies you.

“Kiss me,” you mutter. Ross shoots George a confused look, they don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t either, you just know you want revenge.

“Come on Ross, kiss me.” You let your hands find his face, tracing your fingers through his beard. “Make me forget.” Your eyes drop to his lips and you come closer but Ross turns his head to the right.

“You’re drunk and hurt,” he says and puts an arm around you. George finds Ross’ eyes and he also puts an arm around you. “You would regret it in the morning and it wouldn’t make anything better.”

You didn’t need that turning down, you need to feel better and you really want to hurt Matty. “Take me to him,” your bottom lip trembles as you talk.

“Are you sure? Don’t do-“ you cut George off.

“M’sure.” You say. Both of them lift you in the backseat of George’s’ car. Ross gets next to you while George drives off to Matty’s house.

When you arrive you at his house you threaten Ross and George to drive off and not stay. “Okay, call one of us if you need us to drive you home?” You nod and stumble out of the car.

You don’t have a home but you don’t let them know because you don’t want to have that talk. Not tonight.

You arrive at the concrete walls and the door. You start hammering against it, without any idea of what to say.

“Jesus-“ Matty shoots up from the couch. He fell asleep there and he doesn’t know the time. He’s wearing black boxers and nothing else but he doesn’t care.

When he opens the door he meets your facade. Your make up smeared from crying. Hair a mess. And your lips trembling. For a second he doubts if you’re real, but then your hands are on his chest, shoving him inside his home.

“Shit, I missed you so much.” He says but then he sees it when you turn around. The bloodshot look in your eyes, the sweat to your brow. He can smell it, the alcohol mixed with your natural aroma. He nearly thinks he forgot about it but now you’re here and he remembers everything.

“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck. You.” You hit his shoulder everytime you repeat the phrase. His face is uncomfortable and you’re aware you’re hurting him.

“You’re fucking wasted.” He says and he feels bad because he knows he’s the reason. Before you can hit him again he holds your wrists, “cut it out.”

You are looking up at him fiercely, and he hates how much he sees the hurt. The trembling lip is not making things any easier and the tears slipping down your cheeks are a danger to his own.

“She meant nothing, I’m so sorry baby, please. I was fucking exhausted and you weren’t there and she was throwing herself at me. She meant nothing.” He repeats but you don’t listen, you just see the pictures in your head.

“Bullshit,” you slur and back up from him. Your eyes are pure disgust and he sees that. He is looking at you, pleading at you to forgive him. “You loved having her on her knees, you want that from me? Huh you want that.”

You start striping, leaving your shirt on his kitchen counter. “You want me to suck your dick like she did it? Was she better, ‘s that it?” You move over to him, hands finding the waistband of his boxers. Again, his hands find yours and before you drop to your knees he holds you up.

“Baby stop,” he pleads and now you are a real sad drunk. Sad drunk is the worst drunk. “You’re too drunk to have this conversation.” You drop down to the floor, hugging your knees.

“Why M- Matty. I loved you so much.” Your voice breaks and now a tear slips from Matty’s cheek as well. “Why wasn’t it enough? I loved you so much and you ruined everything.”

He drops next to you but he keeps his hands to himself, unsure if you’re comfortable enough to let him touch you. “I’m so sorry, fuck, I’m an idiot okay? I love you so much okay?”

You look at him and you know he feels sorry it’s just not enough. He shouldn’t have done it because now you can’t look at him the same anymore.

“I love you and I was afraid.” You turn your head away from him because you are scared that if you look at him long enough you will just forgive him.

“God. I would never do it again.” You can’t listen to this anymore but you need him. You need him in your life and you’re weak.

“I love you so much baby.” He says again and you take his hand. You take his hand and hold it. He pulls you up, his hands under your arms and he holds you tight against his chest.

He’s warm and he’s always warm. His heat radiating off of you ever time you are close to him. He puts one arm around your shoulders, not letting you go while the other rubs your back. His mouth is near your ear and he whispers stupid excuses in your ear.

“I’m so sorry okay? Please don’t leave me.” You sob into his chest, unsure of what to do.

“Was she the only time?” If he says yes now you swear you will give him a chance again. He’s gonna fucking say yes and you can start over.

“What?” He says and you pull back, to look him in the eyes. You can tell by his eyes if he’s gonna lie. Your right hand finds his cheek and you rub slow circles into his skin.

“Was she the first or were there others?” His eyes close and this is the moment you know that you don’t have a chance in your relationship. Now you’re disgusted and you immediately remove yourself from him.

You grab your shirt from the kitchen counter and pull it over your head. “Baby I’m so sorry I. Shit!” He hits a bottle from the table and you flinch.

“Have a fucking good life Matthew.” He grabs your arm but you smash away. You slap him across the face, open the door and leave his home for good.

This is it. The past years were a fucking lie. You grab your phone and you do call Ross. He answers immediately and he just hears your cries. He declines and gets in his car right away.

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE VILLAIN DEKU X READER

You were a 5 year old cute adorable shy little girl but wasn't afraid to protect your loved ones. You were going to the playground to practice using your quirk which by the way, was Nuclear Explosion. you were about to play on the swing and just then, you saw a certain green broccoli haired boy getting bullied by a loud angry ash blonde who suspiciously, looked like a rat or a hedgehog on crack

''Face it Deku! I'm better than you and you're just a quirkless pathetic waste of space who will NEVER surpass me and don't waste your time aiming to be a hero'' snarled the blonde as the green haired kid looked like as if he was about to cry. The blonde haired boy pushed him and he fell and that's what made your blood boil in anger.

''Hey! Stop bullying him you big meanie!'' you yelled and stuck your tongue at him. ''What did you say to me you damn extra?'' shouted the blonde kid. You fired your nuclear explosions at him and his 3 goons and they left in a hurry after that. "I'll get you for this you damn extra, whatever the hell your name is!'' he shouted. ''I have a NAME and it's Y/N you big moron!'' You helped the green haired kid get up and he had some tears in his eyes and was clutching an all might figurine, someone who you were fond of as well

''Are you all right?'' you asked the green haired kid as he nodded and stuttered that he was fine. He introduced himself as Izuku Midoriya and the blonde who bullied him was Kaachan or Katsuki bakugou. ''Come on, I'll help you clean up, you have a pretty big bruise there on your knee'' and led him towards a park bench. You patched it up with a band-aid as Izuku saw your tiny soft magical hands at work. He turned red whenever you touched him and his face was becoming flushed and his heart beat faster than ever. ''Are you okay? Do you have a fever?'' you asked him and touched his forehead and he shook his head vigorously. You both became best friends after that and you stood up for him whenever Katsuki bullied him. Little did you know, even Katsuki had grown feelings towards you. Fast forward to where you guys are in middle school cuz, I'm too lazy (lol)

Izuku's POV: Here I am, waiting for Y/N chan in front of her house so we can go to school together. I really LOVE and enjoy having her around. She always helps me when Kaachan bullies me and she's really kind and caring. But... why does my chest hurt so much when she talks to other people and gives them her attention? I hate it when Y/N spends her precious time with someone else.... They don't deserve her. They don't deserve her attention. I wish I could be strong so I could protect her just like a knight in shining armor and all that. 

''Izuku!'' chirped a cheerful and yet soft female voice snapping me out of my thoughts. It was Y/N looking at me with her beautiful eyes. "Shall we get going?'' she asked me. "S-sure'' I stuttered. We were on the way to our middle school and we witnessed a fight between our idol All Might and a villain. ''Oh my gods, LOOK!'' gasped Y/N and clutched my arm looking nervous. Of course, I turned pink but she didn't see it, thank goodness. We were watching the fight and finally All Might won. I wanted to talk to him and I asked Y/N to go on without me even though I was reluctant to leave her alone. I didn't want anything bad to happen to her but..... I needed to talk to All Might alone. "All Might, do-d- do you think I could still become a hero without a quirk?'' and when All Might gave me his answer, it shattered my heart into a million pieces. He said I couldn't be a hero without a quirk and I was devastated! All my hopes and dreams crushed within less than a second! I went to school feeling like garbage since that's exactly how I felt right now. Maybe Kaachan was right..... maybe I shouldn't be a hero..... I'm just a pathetic quirkless nobody. I went to school and when our homeroom teacher announced that me, Y/N and Kaachan wanted to get into the UA, people started snickering at us. Well, at me mostly. Y/N asked them to shut up and then got into a heated argument with Katsuki and finally ended up in detention, along with him. I have to admit, Y/N gotten bolder and it's really cute and adorable. 

But I wasn't going to let MY darling Y/N chan be ALONE with Kaachan for an ENTIRE hour. Who knows what he's going to do to her? So, in order for her not to be lonely and to keep an eye on Kaachan to make sure he doesn't try anything with my puppy, I NEED to get detention too. So, I purposefully looked like as if I wasn't paying attention to the teacher and what do you know? I got detention as well.... 

The bell finally rang and soon, it was time for detention. Y/N headed out and told me she'd wait for me at the detention room. I was about to follow her when Kaachan pulled me back by my collar and hissed, ''Stay the HELL away from Y/N. She's MINE and I LOVE her, you understand, you DAMN nerd?'' and burned my wrists a little. ''Kaachan stop it, I love her too'' I said and that's how burns decorated my body yet again. ''Just stay away from her and why not take a swan dive off a roof? If you're lucky you'll wake up with a quirk in your NEXT life'' and burned  my hero analysis notebook to ash. Y/N chan comforted me during detention and swore that she'd pulverize him to death but I shook my head. Soon, it was time for us to go home but I didn't go home. No. I went somewhere and met someone who changed my life forever and made me see things in a different perspective..... That day had completely changed me and no doubt, my darling Y/N chan would certainly have tears in her eyes but I'll wipe them off and comfort her.... After all... I'm the ONLY one she needs.....

Y/N's POV: It' been 2 years since my best friend Izuku went missing. I never liked calling him 'Deku' since it meant useless and it was given to him by that hot headed hedgehog Katsuki. I swore to myself that I'd gain my pro hero licence and the second I do, I would do WHATEVER I could to find him and get him back. His mother was out of her mind with worry every single day and I would comfort her before going to the UA, the most prestigious school in Japan for upcoming heroes. Unfortunately, even Kaachan got in too. I went to Mrs. Midoriya's house and comforted her and went to the UA. Seeing the building always made me have glistening tears in my eyes since it was our dream to be in the UA together and now.... that was all just a mirage. I made my way to class 1a and while Katsuki was glad that Izuku didn't come to the UA, I told him to shut up. ''This all your fault. You always used to bully him and its because of you he's.... he's gone'' I said angrily as Katsuki replied, ''Tch... why do you even care about that quirkless nerd?'' ''He was my FRIEND!'' I shouted and by now, everyone in class 1a turned to stare at us but I didn't care 

Classes dragged on as usual and when we went to the grounds for hero training, we heard the school's security's alarms blaring loudly. ''Quick! Everyone, stay in the classrooms! The pro heroes will ensure you're safe! There are villains attacking!'' yelled Present Mic over the speakers and just as we were about to make a run for it, a purple portal opened up in front of us and out came a buff well built looking guy with a green mask, with a blue haired crusty looking person and a blonde haired girl wearing a school uniform 

The green haired guy removed his mask and I recognized his freckles along with his emerald eyes and his green hair. Slowly it was starting to hit me.... Izuku, my dear friend was a.... villain!!?? 

''Izuku?'' I whispered and looked shocked as hell and so did Katsuki. "What the HELL you DAMN nerd?'' ''Ah.... an old reunion among childhood friends. How sweet'' said Izuku smiling sickly. ''Stay back'' threatened Aizawa. '' Izuku, why did you become a.... a villain?'' I asked him with tears in my eyes. '' Ah... my darling Y/N chan. Sweetheart, who wouldn't become one after they've been let down by their idol and on top of that being bullied for being quirkless? That arrogant ego filled jerk KATSUKI bullied me till NO ENDS!! And heck! Even my own MOM gave up on me after she found out I was quirkless! But Y/N... you were the only one who gave me hope.... You made me happy, you always supported me, cheered me on.... Join me Y/N... Join me and I'll make sure to treat you like the princess that you deserve to be treated. To hell with this corrupted tainted hero society!'' he roared but I shook my head and ran away from him. ''Y/N chan, love, You can't escape me~'' and released some purple fog all around us. Then, I felt something hit my head and pretty soon, the only only thing I could sense was people yelling and shouting as my consciousness slowly drifted.....  

3rd Person POV: You woke up on a surprisingly comfortable bed but your hands were chained to the bed's headboard. You started hollering through your gag, making muffled noises. Soon a blue haired man and your friend Izuku appeared. ''Ask you girlfriend to join us or die.'' said the crusty looking man, as he removed your gag and you yelled, "I'm NEVER joining the LOV! Izuku, this ISN'T YOU! Why are you doing this!? How could you?'' you screamed at him with tears in your eyes. You couldn't use your quirk since he had placed a quirk canceling collar on you

He unchained you and rubbed your back in a somewhat soothing manner, waiting for you to calm down. ''Do... do you have any idea how WORRIED your mom was'' you asked him, as he quickly kissed you on your lips in order to shut you up. You tried fighting him, but gave in to him in the end. He broke the kiss and cuddled you and whispered hoarsely.... '' I love you Y/N my precious doll.... your MINE and ONLY MINE, no one else's..... And you will learn to love me at some point.....

BONUS SCENE: Toga: Uhh.... Dabi, you Do realize that if you're planning to flirt with Y/N Deku's gonna murder you, right?

Dabi: Yeah you stab queen, I figured that out, but I'm not going to lie, she was pretty good looking

Shigaraki: You're all idiots. 

Izuku: What. the HELL. did you say about MY Y/N?? 

Dabi: Uhhh....n-nothing. She's absolutely PERFECT for you and she's like my little sister. (Chuckles nervously)

Izuku: (smiles in a way no creepy serial psychotic serial killer would) Good to know.

P.S: This convo takes place AFTER you're nicely sleeping on DEKU's bed, END OF STORY

[kingmagnificoofrosas]

NIGHTMARE

The air was heavy with thick hot smoke as screams of agonizing terror pierced the night. Bright flames devoured building after building, mercilessly destroying and killing everything in its way. Man, animals, objects. Everything crumbled to ash.

Magnifico stood on his balcony, eyes wide in horror and limbs frozen in panic. “No …” he uttered breathlessly, “No …”

His entire kingdom had turned into an inferno. In an instant he turned, stumbled through his room and down the corridors. 

“Myrah!” He hollered, “Myrah, where are you?”  A window to his left suddenly exploded and he gasped. More flames leaped onto rugs and furniture and spread down the hallways within seconds. “Myrah!” He cried once more, frantically searching for his wife. “M’fhíorghrá, answer me!”

Dashing from door to door, Magnifico dodged the growing fire and falling debris. But no matter how much he cried for his wife, he got no reply.

Fear and shattering guilt overcame him like an avalanche and he had to hold onto a wall. Right at that moment, one of the curtains crashed in front of him, cutting off his way. Magnifico flinched backward, coughing and shielding his eyes from the spitting flames.

It happened again. How did it happen again? 

In the blink of an eye, he was suddenly right outside his palace. People ran in all directions, wailing, yowling, burning. He recognized their faces, knew their names, remembered their former wishes. 

Before he could call out to them however, one of the stone pillars near him cracked, seconds from collapsing. He noticed a child standing below the crumbling roof, calling for its mother, and without hesitation threw himself at it, shoving it out of the way just in time. The pillar fell, the mother sweeped the child into her arms and Magnifico rolled to the side, hardly escaping being crushed. Dust and hot ash filled his nose and mouth and he coughed. The glowing heat made it almost impossible to breathe.

“Magnifico!”

Lightning shot through his nerve system at the sound of his soulmate's voice. She was there! She was alive! Within seconds, he scrambled to his feet and hurled around. His heart leapt in his chest for a second before being ripped into shreds. Myrah tumbled toward him, almost burned to the bones. Crying out like a beaten animal, he dove forward to catch her before she could fall and sank to his knees with her.

“No! No no no! My love ... my life! Hold on I’ll-” Magnifico desperately tried to recall his supernatural abilities to heal the wounds he knew were her sure death, but the blue light refused to surface. “Come on!” He growled at his shaking hands, “come on!”

“Ma-”

His head turned back to her, “Hold on, my love! I’ll fix this! I’ll save y-”

“Magn-” Myrah coughed, compulsing in pain and trying to move her lips to talk to her husband, but before his name could fully come over her lips, her strength left her, her eyes closed and her body went limp. 

“Myrah?” Magnifico breathed, “Myrah? Sweetheart?”

No response.

"No. Oh God, no! Myrah!” He gently shook his wife, utter panic flooding his being, “Please! You cannot - I cannot lose you too! Please!" Again he shook her, stroked her face and hair over and over and wiped ash, dirt and blood away from her cheeks, but her eyes stayed closed. The limpness of his wife cut his soul like a hot sword. His mind refused to believe it. Once more he shook her but to no avail. “No, my love! No! Wake up! Open your eyes, darling! Myrah!” 

Nothing. 

“No ....”

The queen, his wife, his soulmate was dead but he couldn’t accept it. How could he accept it? 

Her broken body tightly in his hold, he bent over with a choked sob. Tears came like a flood as his entire being was consumed by indescribable agony and he let out the loudest, most heart-broken wail a man could ever sound. 

~

Myrah woke in an instant as she felt her husband cramp and twist in their sheets, flailing his limbs between breathless whimpering. Immediately she rose and reached out to hold his arms down. 

“Magnifico!” She called, “wake up, mi vida! ” 

His head tossed left and right and Myrah almost had to climb onto her husband to pin him down. 

“Shhht! Wake up! Wake up!” 

Suddenly he shot upright with a scream, his blue eyes wide as plates, his chest rising and falling in quick heavy breaths. 

Myrah sighed in relief. Now that he was awake, it was easier to get him out of his panic attack.

“All is well, mi amor. It was just a nightmare.”

Still disorientated and caught in the terror of the things his mind had played on him, he hyperventilated, sweat dripping from his forehead. The pain of losing his wife and the guilt of failing to keep the past from repeating was ever so present. He could still hear the screams, smell the horrible stench of burning flesh mixed with blood, dirt and fire. But even worse than the sight of the burned corpses, was his dead wife in his arms. The emotions overwhelmed him, nausea rose in his throat and he gagged.

“Magnifico! Look at me!” Myrah gently touched his face, “Look at me, my darling!”

Her husband flinched for a second but then slowly turned his head and she smiled. “There you go! Keep looking at me! Breathe with me! Deep breaths!”

Magnifico followed her breathing until his own had calmed and his pulse slowed down. 

“Well done, mi vida." She wiped his loose bangs and the sweat from his forehead and kissed his trembling lips. “I’m here. It was a nightmare.”

“M- …. Myrah.” He choked through his rising tears. “Rosas ... burned … people … my people burned … You were … I- I lost you! I couldn't-”

“Shhht!" Lovingly she caressed both his cheeks, continuing to wipe his tears and sweat. “It was another nightmare. I'm safe. Rosas is safe! All is well, mi vida.” 

He mustered her for a while, assuring himself he was truly awake. “Myrah?” 

“Yes, mi vida. I’m here.” She kissed him again, once more swiping his bangs away. 

She was real. She was there. It truly had only been another one of his raging nightmares. Utter relief flooded him and he sobbed. His head fell into the nape of his wife’s neck and she wrapped him in her arms. 

“Shhht! I know. I know.” She whispered, stroking his back as he cried. 

“Oh, Myrah!” He whimpered hoarsely, “I’m … so … tired!”  

Myrah felt her own throat tighten and her heart ache. 

“I got everything I could have ever dreamt of and more. Everything is perfect and yet … the past just won’t let me rest! I … I can’t bear this anymore!” 

His entire body trembled in her embrace. Her strong husband, who usually always carried himself proudly, now wept against her shoulder like a child. Right in this moment, he was no longer king but the boy once broken so many years ago. 

“Oh my darling, my life!” She breathed as she carefully lifted his face to rest her own close to his and combed through his dark silver hair.

“I know this is incredibly hard, it hurts terribly, and you just wish to forget, but it will get better. I promise you! And I'm here to help you in this pain. Each step of the way I will go with you, mi amor. Until the pain has faded into a scar and the memory of the past into yet a mere shadow. I’m here for you and I will be for eternity!”

The next time Magnifico woke up was early in the morning. As soon as his eyes opened, he turned his head to the side to check for his wife. And there she was. Deeply asleep. Her weight on his chest immediately filled him with relief and his pulse calmed once more. Gently, he stroked one of her auburn locks from her forehead and kissed it. Taking in her beauty for a few more seconds. God, he loved and adored her beyond comprehension. 

He must have fallen asleep in her arms after his melt down and over the course of the last hours their position had shifted. 

Carefully, he removed himself from the embrace, made sure she lay comfortable and then left their bed as quietly as possible. Throwing his thin morning robe around his shoulders, he passed the edge on which Julius was rolled up, sleeping as well, and fondled his head before striding out on the balcony. 

The sky was already turning indigo and the horizon, at the edge of the ocean, pale yellow. 

Magnifico closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He still felt awfully tired. Exhausted. As if he'd not slept at all. 

The sweet singing of birds painted a stark contrast to the roaring sounds of terror that still gnawed at the edge of his consciousness. 

Why couldn't he just forget it? Why did his past still haunt him like a never tiring predator?  

Before he knew it, his eyes started burning again but this time, he refused to cry. Instead, he stubbornly forced himself to concentrate on the sunrise. 

A light breeze hit his face and made his loose bangs sway back. He closed his eyes once more, breathing in the salty air and savoring the scent of oleander and roses it carried along. 

Sometimes he still couldn’t believe that he didn’t need to endure his regular mental episodes alone anymore. Now there was Myrah, who caught him whenever he fell. 

But as grateful as he was that she helped him through his pain, he rather had the whole trauma be done with once and for all. 

Slowly the sun started climbing over the edge of the ocean, throwing its first rays across the land. Magnifico blinked into the golden light, sounding yet another tired sigh. 

Suddenly there was a soft rustle behind him. Two gentle arms wrapped themselves around his waist from behind and he smiled. Her touch felt like taking a deep breath after a long dive. 

“You’re up already?” 

“I wanted to watch the sunset.” Not a lie, more a forced truth. 

The hold around him loosened and his wife stepped next to him. There was no fooling her and he didn’t mean to. 

“When did it stop for you?” He asked quietly. 

“The nightmares?”

His lips slimmed. 

“A few years.”

“I’ve got these for over two decades now … I’ve let the past go and it shouldn’t affect me as much anymore but-” 

“Magnifico,” Myrah took his hands into hers, “you are way too hard on yourself! Be a little bit more patient. There is no right or wrong as to how long the process of healing has to be.” 

“How much longer - I … I’m terrified to lose you too one day …this fear …it wrecks me!” he uttered brokenly. “I’ve lost everything I ever loved once before … I cannot bear it a second time …”

Myrah lifted her gaze. Her own eyes burned with tears now. She hated seeing her soulmate in so much distress. “I’m afraid as well.” She admitted, “after you’ve destroyed the book and sacrificed yourself to save Rosas … I thought I had to die as well. To have to live the rest of my life without you until I could see you again on the other side? … That was hell on earth. But-” she reached out to touch his cheek, “the great father let you return to me. And nothing can ever separate us again!” 

“How do I deserve you?” He smiled lovesick, chuckling along as she did. 

“Only you deserve me! Mi vida.” 

Leaning forward, he kissed her and her hands dove past his face into his hair. 

“I love you!” He breathed into the kiss, “I love you so much-” 

Her hands wandered from his hair down to his neck and back and then to his chest.

“I love you!” She replied, once again locking eyes with him. “I cannot erase your past, but I can help ease the pain.” 

He almost shuddered at the touch of her fingertips spreading on his chest.

“I can help you forget those nightmares for a bit …” 

Oh God! 

Her lips traveled across his skin like bolts of electricity all the way back to his neck and jaw before she gently pulled him closer to her body. 

His mind started swimming. In the best way possible. Whatever she did, it always worked. Always cracked him open and lightened up his soul. She was his beacon, his lighthouse in the darkest night.

And he held onto her as well. Like a drowning man onto a rope. Kissing her passionately between gasps for air. If she hadn't guided him back into their bedroom, he would have helplessly stumbled against the next pillar or wall, maybe even face planted the floor. 

She smiled against his lips and Magnifico wondered for the billionth time how it was possible for his stomach to tingle that strongly. 

Yes, right. She was his soulmate, this was everyday life and yet it was new to him every time. 

He let her guide him all the way to their bed, he’d forgotten how to walk anyway. With the most gentle pressure, she pressed him down on his shoulders to sit and before he knew it, she was on his lap. Together they shifted backward further onto the bed. 

Julius used the momentum to head to the door. Smirking to himself as he left the royal bedroom. He would take a long stroll through the gardens.

Oh, Lord! Am I still dreaming? Am I truly awake?  “Myrah …” 

More and more of her tender kisses showered Magnifico and he prayed she wouldn’t stop. Each place her soft lips touched tingled, almost burned. Once more they found his and he closed his eyes, tightening his hold around her back and waist. 

Could one get drunk on love? One part of him wanted to reply with as much intensity to everything she did but this time he just couldn’t fight against her and he didn’t want to. There were times where they both equalized each other while melting their endless love and their souls together, there were times where he gave more to her and this time it was her, who gave more. 

He had to do nothing but let her flood him with all the love her soul could offer. Let her give herself to him fully. This kind of giving was the highest peak of joy. An honor, a pleasure like nothing else on earth. 

She was bone of his bone and one flesh with him. Only her soul made to link with his like no other. A unity for eternity. Ever growing in love and wisdom. 

“Myrah!” Her name was the only thing left leaving his lips in gasps, breathless hisses and whimpers of purest pleasure. One gaze into the sun-flooded forest of her eyes, that intense look grazing every part of his soul, was almost enough to send him over the edge. 

Her love indeed silenced every sound in his mind, calmed the raging storm in him and pushed the hellish memories away. He thanked the great father exceedingly as his world was filled with Myrah. Tenderly and deeply passionately. 

[grievedeeply]

the less time the better. pt 8.

PREVIOUS | NEXT — SERIES TAGLIST

pairing: heimdall x gn!reader

summary: days have passed since the kiss you shared with heimdall, and while you try to figure out what it means for your relationship— the group prepares for war.. and suffers a massive loss.

notes: this chapter is just straight angst. sorry in advance but it was a necessary evil.... ignore any plot holes please..... and also please let me know if you want to be tagged in this series! my taglist is really old and im sure ppl have lost interest, so let me know if you want to be removed as well.

you awoke from your sleep with a jolt. you had never gotten used to the rough feeling of wood pressed against your skin as you slept. even if it was the same material you usually slept on while you were home in midgard, your circumstances were different. back then, you didn't have to worry about a war with one of the most powerful gods in the realms. you only had to worry about what to make for dinner. now, you had much more to think about. including your strange relationship with the god of foresight, heimdall.

a part of you still regretted taking his wrist in your hand that day. it still wasn't that long ago, but you wondered how different things would be now if you hadn't.

the atmosphere was tense in the house. you swore there had been maybe 20 words spoken between everyone. people looked over their shoulder, wary of heimdall's every move. in a way, you couldn't blame them. after all, he was odin's son. the son of the man who had ruined their entire lives, and he had yet to state his side. but he wasn't fighting, either. ever since he had arrived.. you noticed that. he never fought the idea of being used as leverage. after your conversation. you supposed you understood why.

ratatoskr had since found out of heimdall's presence on his tree, and he was less than happy about it. but still, he had remained polite despite his grievances. you did notice how he seemed to be around less, though. you couldn't help but to assume that was due to heimdall.

freyr hadn't gotten any used to him being around, and you didn't think he ever would. he was quieter— less himself. you hated seeing him that way.. but the vote you had made days prior was a fair one. you thought he had trouble seeing him as anything but a member of the family who burned him. he couldn't even see him as leverage.

your father jumped into gear the morning after. he was completely prepared to do whatever was necessary to protect atreus.. and yourself, by extension. you knew little of his time in his homeland. it was something he didn't speak of much, but you did know he killed gods there. he seemed ready to have to do it again, but not at all eager about it.

"none of us are safe, even here." tyr murmured from where he sat at the end of of the table. it was far too small for him, and his knees hit at the wood on the edges, but it was almost a funny sight. "so we have no choice." freya responded simply. "we find surtr, sound gjallarhorn, and bring odin to justice. now."

you glanced uncomfortably over your shoulder at heimdall, who stared blankly at the group from where he stood, leaning against the wall. you watched as his hand fell to the horn on his hip.

"you'd incinerate every soul in asgard and call it self defense?"

"does he ever suggest plans or just crap on everyone elses?" freyr murmured, leaning back against the table in the kitchen.

"the obvious plan is staring you in the face," tyr ignored him, "we don't need odin to use this. we can slip into asgard and do it ourselves, right under his nose. we gain the knowledge we need to shatter his prophecy of war once and for all."

"except— begging your pardon— you don't have a way into asgard." sindri replied.

"they got the big horn, don't they?" brok called out from their working space.

"oh, so you expect them to sneak into asgard blowing a horn that sounds across all the realms?"

"i expect you to bite my blue buttcheek!"

"please. just.. think about it." tyr said.

you watched as atreus sat the mask down on the table. you had let him look at it. he had read the runes, inspected the design.. but nothing seemed to make sense outside of that crack you had told him about that odin had in his basement. your father sat mimir down next to it.

"this mask," he started, picking it up. "the easy answers that it promises. i know this.. shortcuts always have a price."

he turned his focus to you, brows knitted together. this expression that he wore wasn't one you saw often. he was worried. "you have carried it. what do you think?" he asked.

you let out a breath. "i don't know. at best.. it's a chance." you said with a shrug of your shoulders. you didn't know what it was or what it entailed, but you knew it was important to odin. "if nothing else, it's leverage. we have something he wants. if it really gives us all the answers, maybe no one has to die."

"grand. now all we need's a way to asgard." mimir replied simply.

you watched as your father's gaze shifted to tyr, and hesitantly, so did yours. "i know i've been a burden to you all," he started, readjusting himself in the seat, "i know you've questioned why you even pulled me out of that hole. i have too."

he stood, walking around the table. something changed in his stride. you wondered where his sudden boost of confidence seemed to come from. but maybe this was what you needed. "i have too. but it's clear now. this is what i'm needed for. this is my purpose. one last time. i will pick up my spear and.. i will lead us to asgard."

"'scuse me, but if you got a way to asgard, where's that idea been this whole fuckin' while?" brok asked.

"that's.. rather a fair question, brother."

"you.. withheld asgard?" your father asked, pushing himself to his feet. something in his eyes shifted. anger. you recognized that look all too well.

"you would've gotten us all killed. and we needed to give the champion time to find their destiny. here it is." tyr picked up the mask off the table, and you shrunk into yourself. you hated being called the champion. it didn't feel like you, really.

"it's all led to this."

"if we can get inside, i'm going after odin." freya said.

"i will not stop you. we can do both."

"spot on, brother. if the mask doesn't give us an out, we'll still have the drop on him."

"works for me." freyr spoke through his food.

"let's do it, then."

"and quickly, before he sees us coming."

"he does hate surprises."

you looked back over at heimdall, who had silently gotten much closer to you while you were involved in the conversation. he stood a foot or so behind you, brows knitted together. "heimdall," you started, cutting off anyone else from speaking before they even could. "is there.. another way into asgard?"

he looked over at you, then back at tyr. his eyes were filled with something else, something you couldn't exactly pinpoint.

"no." he replied after a pause, staring at the taller god. the rest of the group only stared at him.

"i still wanna hear the details on this, uh, new way to asgard you got. spill it!" brok said after a moment. if anyone knew another way to asgard out of everyone in the room, it would've been heimdall. he wouldn't have lied, would he? was that something he would do to you after everything that happened the other night? you decided not to think about it.

"it's an ancient path. we can't reach it from here." tyr said, moving around brok to continue walking.

"where then?" he pushed, following after him quickly.

"let me collect my things and i'll show you." tyr replied frustratedly. you furrowed your eyebrows together. brok was right. something about this just.. wasn't making sense.

"you ain't got no things. and where you goin' with that mask?" he smacked it out of tyr's hand, and you watched as it went flying. "that belongs to y/n, they earned it! all you done was make passable dirt soup!"

"brok, it's okay." you muttered in an attempt to de-escalate whatever you were watching unfold. "no, it ain't." he responds without missing a beat. "this ain't right. all the pieces ain't weldin' together true. like, what's with him calling you, 'loki,' anyway?" brok asked, turning his gaze to atreus.

now that he had mentioned it.. you had never heard tyr call him atreus. he had only called him loki. the name your mother gave for him to the giants. no one had ever called him loki.

"you know that ain't his name! hey, i'm talkin' to you!"

"do you NEVER shut up?"

you watched as tyr shifted into someone else. odin. his knife dug into brok, completely tearing through his clothing and diving into his skin. the weapon was covered in his blood, and you could only watched as he fell to the floor. "brok!" sindri called, kneeling at his side.

behind you, you could feel heimdall drawing his weapon. his eyes lingered on the scene before him. this is what odin did to people. this is what he would've done to him, had he stayed.

in your state of shock, odin wrapped an arm around your shoulders, the knife that was just used to stab brok held at the skin of your neck. he pulled you backwards, and even though you resisted, you knew it was ultimately no good. would you die here? would brok?

"of all the things.." odin murmured.

"odin." your father said, anger filling his eyes.

"let go and face me!" freya called, sword held in her hand. freyr stood at her side, and atreus at the other. heimdall took a place by your father. despite the risk of your life ending, you stared at him. he was facing his father. he had his sword drawn, his brows furrowed together. this was an expression you had never seen on his face before. anger.

"tell your brother to throw me the mask, and you've got a deal." odin said.

"stop moving."

"freya!" sindri called out, eyes focused on his dying brother. you wanted to sob. you wanted to do anything but be here in the grasp of the man you hated the most.

"if he dies.."

"now, now. wasn't part of the plan. but if he dies.." odin's gaze shifted to his son. "we are square for heimdall. and honestly, you got a bargain."

"i will kill you. plan on that."

"so nice spending time with you again."

"freya, please!" sindri begged, finally looking up at her.

"ah ah ah. can't be in two places at once, frigg."

freya shifted backwards, kneeling at brok's side. freyr stepped over, and with him, so did heimdall.

"hey, i don't move, you don't move. don't do anything you'll regret."

"i regret many things. killing you will not be one of them."

"i am in control here!" odin yelled. "throw me the mask, now!"

you watched as your father's gaze shifted from you to atreus, to freyr. he threw the mask after what felt like the longest few seconds of your life, and you lurched out of the allfather's grasp. atreus leaped at him, taking the form of a wolf as he did so. he was shoved out of the way, and he picked the mask up off of the floor.

"too bad." he said, looking directly at you. "looks like war after all."

as he stepped backwards into the doorway, your father hurled a spear at him. you hadn't seen this weapon before, but that was the least of your concerns. the tip of the spear pinned the mask against the wall, and odin slipped out of view. you breathed out a sigh of relief.. but that didn't last for long. you turned around and the view of brok and sindri together on the floor only broke your heart once again.

"please, you have to save him. you have to." sindri said, watching as freya tried her best to heal him. your heart sank into your stomach. there was nothing more she could do, and brok knew it. "he can't.. you can't.. maybe if i go back to the lake.."

"stop it. i know what you done. and i forgives ya. but y'gotta stop. y'gotta let go."

"brok?"

sindri stared down at his brother, now lifeless in his arms. he looked towards the ceiling, and disappeared.

"this.. whole time?" atreus murmured.

freyr appeared at your side, extending the mask out. you stared at it for a moment, before looking up at him. you took it out of his hands, your fingers pressing against it. you hated this thing. it took everything in you to not just destroy it right now.

"so.. what do we do now?" he questioned.

"now..?" freya repeated. she paused, picking up her sword. "now we kill odin. and anyone who gets in our way."

"atreus. y/n. come." your father said.

"what? where?" atreus asked.

"it does not matter." he muttered. you had never seen him look so.. defeated. you felt it too, but he was always so good at hiding how he felt. seeing him like this only hurt you further. brok meant a great deal to him, and you knew that. he meant a great deal to you, too.

"where are you going?" freya said.

"we are done."

he walked away and you were left standing with everyone else, watching as he turned to the door. you took in a deep breath. you squeezed your eyes closed, but followed after him. you stopped after a second, turning to look at heimdall.

you pressed the mask into his hands. "i'll be back." you said, your voice coarse. your throat felt dry. you wanted to scream. you wanted to cry. you probably would. but not right now.

you turned away from him, and followed after your father and brother wordlessly.

"you can't run away from this, kratos. odin won't stop until we stop him!" freya called after him, but her words were only meant with silence.

he pushed open the door, and you stepped onto the yggdrasil.

tags: @ic-yourface @alisblackgf @engardeitsme @venfia @dijanur @s1mpss @gorepitt @callalillie15 @bluehorizon987 @vanserrar @trippingoverstars @mysiax @beaniebear152 @rei64bit @neverendingdumptser @a-bunny13 @lei-leigha @candy4bonez @yyourmotherr @blobdrake-theory @zarizee @rainygamingstreamingturtle @kise-kae @aesthetic-of-a-director @unodostrescuatrolove @nixeustheclamity @aiciteaa @multifand0m-gal0re @chibi668 @wonderkive @lentillo @luffysoctopus @elizabeth-hatake @black-star1472 @lacm-ac @sxmirae @maggot-baggage @emc2beans @suzumi-hiddenmistclan @white-lyra @lmorg149 @iamverydreamy @giornos-curls @reinabxitch @ourchampionofthesun @paintmekala @the-eternal-sunflower @alextric-overload @lynn-haitani

[starheirxero]

See, I genuinely thought, Solar's death broke me-

NOPE, IT WAS EARTH AND LUNAR'S REACTION, BECAUSE BY GOD, THIS AMOUNT OF EMOTIONS SHOULD BE CONSIDERED ILLEGAL- MY POOR HEART-

Earth's everything broke me! Kat did such an outstanding job!! Earth finally cracked under the pressure… She's been trying so hard to keep it all in, to solve it herself quietly, and now her entire world is shattered, because her best friend is dead, and she may never see him again! This was a full on mental breakdown, and I swear, I was crying till my hands were shaking- The way her voice cracked, and got louder and louder, yet she still felt the need to apologize for not holding it together, as if she wasn't in the right to mourn, to grieve, as if she didn't just lose her brother. Because that's what he always was, even, if he didn't see himself that way! He was their big brother, and their anchor! He just never took the title, because he was afraid to intrude, to hope too much, because he didn't see himself as worth it! Not to forget her fear, that if he were to come back, he might end up like Moon, without memory…

Before that, I almost broke when Lunar fell to their knees- They can't even process it! Both of their siblings were crying, but even when their voice broke, they didn't. Instead, they've been pushed back into the numbness they came back in, trying their best to help out, but not being sure how- Their robotic brain is trying so hard to keep them stable, turning off their feelings by doing so, because the moment they come back, all hell will break loose-

Monty's scene also broke me for some reason- Their immediate reaction to seeing Earth cry, and trying to calm her down- I loved his insistence when it came to Lunar as well, because she likely knows what's going on in their head! They heared them say "I'm okay", and instantly replied with "nope, you are coming with us!"

God, even Sun and Moon… Sun sounds so tired, there's so much grieve in his voice! He's trying so hard to be of help, but he can't, not as long as the wounds are fresh... And Moon, Oh dear- The fact, that he barely even reacted to Eclipse! He sounded so damn exhausted, and so done, telling Eclipse that he can't stop him… Before also admitting, that he saw Solar as a brother, but never said anything for Solar's comfort!

Solar truly thought he was replaceable, thought he wasn't worth what he was worth. Yet so many people cared for him, loved him, and are trying so hard to hold out to hope to get him back! If only he could see it…

-Stardust

RIGHTTTTT??!?!?!!!!??!!!!!???????? HEAD IN HANDS EARTH'S GRIEF ACTUALLY MADE MY CHEST TIGHT I WAS SO FUCKED UP ABOUT IT. THIS IS HER FIRST PROPER LOSS. SHE HAD PLANS WITH HIM. SHE'D JUST BEEN TALKING TO HIM. HE WAS JUST THERE FOR HER!!!! 😭😭😭

AND GHOD YEA. SUN HAVING TROUBLE EVEN SAYING IT AND LUNAR SHUTTING DOWN AND MONTY DOING HIS BEST TO HELP EM AND MOON JUST BEING SO WHOLLY DRAINED. Everyone is going through it and its KILLING MEEEE 😭

AND WITH HOW SOLAR THOUGHT OF HIMSELF IN THE FAMILY DON'T EVEN WITH ME I WILL START BAWLING I'M SO FUCKED UP THAT HE NEVER GOT TO KNOW THE FULL EXTENT OF HOW MUCH HE WAS LOVED. STARTS PUNCHING AIR

[deatheater25]

(⚠️TW: Homophobia, homophobic slurs (blurred), emotional abuse, swearing⚠️)

Iceman and Cougar were very close in flight school. Like oddly close. There was never a time where they weren’t by each others side.

But Iceman and Cougar had two very different views on their relationship. Iceman was under the influence that Cougar felt the same as he did; in love. They would act very affectionate towards each other for a joke, but Iceman never saw it as a joke. He saw it as genuine attraction. They met each others families, wouldn’t that classify as attraction?

One day Iceman went to Cougars quarters to hang out. They were sitting on Cougars bunk, talking about class, asking how their families were doing, drinking beer, all the regular things they did in their bunks. Iceman’s heart was racing, he needed Cougar. He needed him so much that it hurt.

Cougar stretched his arms and draped his left arm over Iceman’s shoulders, like he always did. Iceman smiled, this was the perfect moment. He took a deep breath and leaned in for a kiss.

“Woah what are you doing?”

Cougars words stopped Iceman dead in his movement. “What’s wrong?” Iceman asked in a joking way. Cougar looked at him in disgust. “I don’t swing that way. That shit is disgusting.” Cougar spat. Iceman felt his heart shatter and burn to ashes. He leaned back and stared at Cougar, trying to process his damaged emotions. “I thought you did. I thought from how we act together that-”

“That I actually loved you like that?! You’re not one of them, are you?”

Iceman couldn’t talk. If he were to reply to Cougars attack, it was guaranteed that he was start crying. He just stared at Cougar in a dead silent room, looking like a kid who just got yelled at by his parents. He lowered his head and looked away.

Cougar only laughed. “Oh my god! You are one of those fucking things! Jesus Christ Tom, you actually thought I was attracted to you? I have a fiancée and a baby on the way! You know this! Why would I ever date someone like you? Get the hell out of my bunk and don’t you ever come near me again, f*g!” He yelled, pointing to the door.

Iceman swallowed hard and sulked out of Cougars bunk. Once he enter his shared quarters with Slider, he was met with his RIOs smile, who was completely oblivious to what had just occurred. “How did it go?” Slider cheered, sitting on his bunk. Iceman fell to his knees and finally let out all his tears he was holding back. “He rejected me! He called me a f*g! He and I are done, he wants nothing to do with me anymore!” Iceman cried out, feeling everything in his body go numb. Sliders demeanor changed instantly from curiosity to anger. He sat down next to Iceman and held him close to his chest. “I’m so sorry, Tommy. I promise I won’t let this happen to you again. I promise.”

End

Hi I know that this was more of a fic rather than a headcannon, but I feel like it needed some depth and angst, rather than just some words and no elaboration. I hope you enjoyed it! I’m sorry if it was confusing, it made sense in my head lmao. Love y’all! ❤️🍪

@towering-book-piles @genderstealer2000

[whump-card]

DRAGGED: One-shot

A short and sweet little piece for @sunshiline-writes

690 words

CW: gore, dragged by a car, exposed bones, deathwish, slight creepy whumper, character called “boy” is an adult

~~~

0300 hours.

The stadium lights stood tall above them, shining down onto the drag strip, harassed by moths and midges. The white points blurred as Mikalai panicked, on his knees, his hands tied in front of him with thick, strong rope. 

“Andrei, I didn’t mean to - I meant no disrespect, I…”

Towering above him - tall enough to tower even if Mika had been standing - was Andrei, his posture mimicking the lights: erect, uncompromising, his head bent to stare down at his lit subject. 

“I don’t care,” Andrei’s loud voice trampled over Mikalai’s quaver, “Your foolishness made me look foolish. Now, I have to enact the consequences. You think I want to do this? Mika,” Andrei’s voice softened with affection and he reached out to ruffle Mikalai’s tousled hair, “You’re my boy. I have to train you up right.”

Mikalai shivered under Andrei’s touch.

“Please…”

Andrei ignored him, briskly taking a step back and snapping his fingers. Two enforcers fell upon Mikalai, looping a chain around his wrists - a chain attached to the bumper of a drag car. Mikalai’s car, a cherry-red 95 Corvette, tricked and modded into an angel of speed.

It wasn’t his car anymore. 

The engine revved. Mikalai began to babble desperately.

“Andrei, please, God, I’ll do an-anything, anything but this, please Andrei, oh God…” Uncontrollable sobs ripped out of his chest. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the car.

It started to move, rolling slowly away. The enforcers took a step back.

“Andrei, please!” Mikalai screamed - but Andrei remained silent. Impassive. Almost serene.

The chain rattled as the length between Mikalai and the car began to uncoil.

“No, no, no no nonono…” Mikalai jibbered, scrambling to his feet.

He felt the first tug, pulling him along a few stumbling steps.

“Andrei!” he shrieked, still hoping, maybe still believing just for his own sanity’s sake, that this was a cruel trick, that Andrei would call it all off now.

The driver floored it.

~~~

Mikalai didn’t pass out.

He wished to God that he would.

With every breath, his exposed ribs expanded and contracted, glistening pink, red, and white under the stadium lights. His skin and flesh had been stripped away by the asphalt, sanded down slowly until his very bones dragged on the road. His upper chest, though not taken to the bone, was ripped ragged; flayed muscle, a missing nipple, seeping blood.

Mikalai had no choice but to breathe, each movement of air feeling like the movement of tectonic plates, earth-shattering, unbearable, pieces of himself that were not meant to touch rubbing together.

His knees, too, were stripped. One kneecap was missing, leaving behind a spongy mess of meat. The other barely hung on, the white cap looking like a fungus growing out of his leg. The right side of his face was gone; his eye had been protected by his prominent, well-formed brow and cheekbone, handsome features that were now pulverized beef, his sight blinded by the oozing blood.

He tried to blink. He glimpsed the lights above him, so briefly, through a sheen of red. A cough fought its way out of his body; his whole being spasmed, lighting every abrasion, every break, every joint on fire anew.

Both his arms were dislocated. They had been yanked from their sockets by the car’s acceleration, first thing. One elbow had scraped the road so forcefully and long that it wasn’t just the thin layer of skin that was gone; the bone itself had been abraded down to the marrow, the nerves within, never meant to touch air, screaming to high heaven.

One foot was twisted out of place. Somehow, this was the least sickening sight.

Mikalai lay on the tarmac, the low rumble of his car, once a comforting thing, humming nearby. He could taste blood and gasoline fumes in his throat.

He would have preferred to die, honestly.

He would have preferred to go to Hell.

A voice. There was a voice, somewhere in the haze of agony.

“Make sure he lives.”

A presence. Mikalai’s eyes fluttered; the stadium lights were blocked by someone leaning over him.

“A shame,” Andrei murmured, “You were so pretty.”

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Whumptember day 25

“I won’t leave you here” Desperate measures | Fireman's carry | Head lolling

This is a sequel to THIS post. Reading the previous post isn’t necessary, but it will add some useful context. This fic takes place immediately afterwards. 

It felt like time was frozen, and Whumpee found themself frozen alongside it. They stood still, a deer in the headlights, watching that monster stare Caretaker down.

Whumper had backed Caretaker into a wall, one palm flat against the wall beside Caretaker’s head, and the other an ironclad grip on Caretaker’s arm. Caretaker’s eyes were wide, fear beginning to bleed through for the first time since their arrival. Neither of them moved.

Whumpee stood in the livingroom, watching. A spell had befallen the three of them, trapping them in an infinite second. If Whumpee moved, if they so much as twitched, time would continue.

Caretaker and Whumpee's eyes met, and the fear in Caretaker's eyes was quickly smothered by a glint of determination. The spell shattered. Caretaker turned a glare Whumper's way."I don't know who you think you are, but you're going to get the hell out of my house," Caretaker hissed.

Whumper only smiled at their words. “Oh kitten,” they purred, eyes alight with intrigue, like a predator enjoying the hunt. It made Whumpee’s blood freeze. “You really have no idea who you’re dealing with, do you?”

Whumper moved before Caretaker could respond. They rammed a fist into Caretaker’s stomach, forcing Caretaker into the wall with a thud. Caretaker gasped in pain, doubling over on instinct. Whumper didn’t hesitate; they grabbed Whumpee shoulder, effortlessly spinning them around to slam their face into the wall.

Whumpee knew Caretaker would be no match for Whumper. You couldn’t fight Whumper, you simply couldn’t. Still, Caretaker tried. They stumbled, leaving a smear of blood on the wall as their nose began to bleed. They threw a punch, but it was sloppy at best. Whumper caught the fist with ease, simply throwing Caretaker aside

Cakertaker scrambled to stand, a string of curses on their lips. Whumper kicked a booted foot into their side before they could, sending them sprawling onto their back. The breath left Caretaker’s lungs with a pained wheeze. Before they could recover, Whumper’s foot was slammed directly onto their neck and held there. Whumpee watched as their hands flew to Whumper’s foot, struggling with a furious, desperate urgency.

Whumper didn’t budge. They squinted down at Caretaker, face considering. They shifted their body weight, pressing harder.

It was Caretaker’s pained face, mouth agape to capture air they couldn’t reach, that broke Whumpee from their stupor. “Stop it!” They screamed, dread forcing them to speak. Whumpee took a step closer–

Whumper’s eyes, cold and angry and painfully familiar, turned to stare at Whumpee. "If you take another goddamn step I swear to god I will break their neck right here, right now."

Whumpee froze. They stared at Caretaker, watching with mounting terror as their face grew pale, as their anger dissolved into terror as they realized just what type of monster had entered into their home. Caretaker opened their mouth, but they didn’t speak. They couldn’t.

They could see Caretaker’s struggles slow, drool beginning to fall from the corner of their mouth as their eyes grew more distant. Their fingers still pulled at Whumper’s hold. Their struggles were weakening.

Whumper was going to kill them. The thought sent a bolt of terror through Whumpee. They were going to watch Caretaker die; they’d led Whumper into their home, and now Caretaker was going to die right in front of them–

“Please!” Whumpee nearly fell to their knees in their terror, vision swimming with tears. “Please, just let them go!”

“Why should I?” That cruel smile was on Whumper’s face again. They stared at Whumpee, barely paying attention to the person dying at their feet. Whumpee wasn’t sure if Caretaker was still moving. “I didn’t come here for them, so I can’t say I care what happens to them. What do I get out of it?”

There was only one answer. “Anything, anything at all! I’ll go willingly, I won’t run, I swear! I’d do anything, so please–” Panic choked Whumpee’s words, the beginning of a sob rattling their body. “Please don’t kill them!”

There was a long moment of silence. Whumper stared at them, not moving an inch. After an eternity, they chucked, lifting their foot. Whumpee and Caretaker both gasped, one out of relief, the other out of desperation. Caretaker laid coughing on the ground, curling protectively around themselves. Whumpee desperately hoped they wouldn’t attempt to stand.

Whumpee barely noticed when they fell to their knees. “Thank you–god, thank–”

“Here,” Whumpee flinched when something hit their head, landing before their eyes. They forced their eyes to focus, finding a pair of car keys before them. “My car’s out front. Open the trunk and bring me the bag of zip ties. If you try to run, I’ll kill them before you make it off the property, okay?”

Whumpee could only nod, scrabbling to obey. They all but ran out of the house, stumbling down their steps of the porch and bee-lining for the car parked outside. The vehicle was painfully mundane, identical to hundreds of others Whumpee saw daily. Dinstantly, they wondered how long Whumper had been watching them before deciding to visit. They’d been stupid for thinking they’d ever actually escaped.

Whumpee’s hands shook as they popped the trunk, but they didn't hesitate to do as they were told. They couldn’t, not when Caretaker’s life was on the line. Whatever Whumper was about to do, it had to be better than Caretaker dying. They dug around the trunk, movements becoming increasingly frantic as they searched. It took them several minutes to find what they were looking for, and they practically sprinted back to the house once they’d done so.

Whumper was kneeling over Caretaker when Whumpee returned. They had their hand over Caretaker’s mouth, and their fingers pinched against their nose. Whumpee could see Caretaker’s throat move as they were forced to swallow, and only then did Whumper let them breathe. Sat beside the two of them was a bottle of sleeping pills and a nearly empty bottle of scotch.

When Whumper saw Whumpee's look, they chuckled. "You're so good for me, I didn't come prepared," they batted Caretaker's weak hands away, not looking down. "I'm not dealing with a fighter in my car, so I had to improvise."

Whumper finally stepped away from Caretaker, seemingly satisfied. Caretaker groaned, weakly rolling on their side, but not attempting to stand. Whumpee wasn’t sure they could, not after all they’d just gone through.

The thought of Caretaker in that state, utterly defenseless against whatever Whumper wanted to do to them, terrified Whumpee, but they knew it was for the best. Whumper would do whatever they wanted regardless; fighting would’ve only made it worse. Caretaker didn’t understand that yet.

"Come here," Whumper called, and Whumpee flinched into motion, happy for an excuse to be near Caretaker. Whumper snatched the zip ties from Whumpee's hands, ripping open the package and making quick work of binding Caretaker's limbs. Caretaker gave a low whine, but did little else. They were still gasping for air.

When they were satisfied, Whumper grabbed Caretaker’s limp body, easily lifting them into their arms. Caretaker’s head lolled onto Whumper’s shoulder, eyes distant. Whumpee shivered at the sight. “I could carry them–”

Whumper rolled their eyes. “No you can’t. You’ll try to run, I’ll catch you, and then I’ll end up carrying the both of you back to the car. Get in the backseat,” their voice left no room for argument. Whumpee didn’t dare disobey, even when every cell of their body protested leaving Caretaker alone.

Whumpee got into the car. They watched through the window as Whumper carried Caretaker’s limp body to the trunk. They stared until Caretaker left their view, the trunk shutting like a sealed tomb.

They forced themselves to face forward as Whumpee opened the driver’s door. From the grin on Whumper’s face, Whumpee knew they’d been caught watching.

“You know, I really am glad you decided to run off,” Whumper said, eyes predatory. “I think we’re going to have much more fun now.”

[itsclydebitches]

Karlach hadn’t touched anyone in months. Years? It was hard to tell after being in the Hells so long. She curled in on herself, tight, her fifth bedroll growing charred like all the others. Karlach wondered if Dammon would really be able to invent another upgrade—another miracle she wasn’t sure she deserved. She wondered if Gale would think she was pathetic if she asked for a Mage Hand to hold through the night.

When the footsteps came Karlach had a hand on her ax before she'd even registered the sound. Then new instincts kicked in and she relaxed, turning with a sleepy smile.

“Hey, soldier.”

Tav grunted, yawning hugely behind the blanket they’d wrapped about them like a cloak. They’d doused the fire hours ago—too risky with so many goblins nearby—but Karlach could see Tav shivering, hard enough that their teeth were likely to wake the whole camp. They all but collapsed into the dirt beside her and Karlach couldn’t help but grin at their muffled exclamation. It sounded faintly... relieved?

“You good? Want to share with the class?

“You’re warm.”

Karlach blinked. Yeah? Duh. Obviously. That had been her problem for a while now. ‘Molten and scalding with the power of the literal Hells’ was a better way to put it, but she supposed ‘warm’ wasn’t wrong. She was just about to warn Tav off getting too close when they rolled over with a groan, tension bleeding out of their frame until there was just a Tav-shaped puddle framed in the moonlight. They cracked an eye, sheepish.

“You don't mind, do you? No way I’ll sleep otherwise.”

"What do—?"

Oh. Wait. Tav was cold and she was warm.

Gaping, Karlach shook her head. She tried to say something witty and reassuring, but all that came out was a strangled noise that rang with a gratitude she couldn’t explain—didn’t even realize was going to leave her throat. That must have been enough for Tav though because they mirrored their body to Karlach’s and tucked the blanket tighter, releasing a hand only to wave lazily at the shadows behind them.

“There’s still room,” they called.

“Thank Mystra for that,” Gale said, shuffling quickly into view. He blew on his hands before cocking his head in consideration. “Ah, but that would make me remiss in my thanks, wouldn’t it? Thank Karlach, rather,” and he gave her a bow that was ruined when he tumbled down beside her. “Blasted knees!”

Tav snorted. “Old man.”

“I’ll have you know I am a perfectly respectable age for a human and it is merely this gods’-awful cold that is wreaking havoc on my joints.”

“Chk. You would not last a day in the Astral Plane, wizard. There, it grows cold enough to leave frost on your limbs and enemies shatter when you pierce them, leaving blood-red crystals behind.”

“Is your acclimation to such harsh conditions why you’re joining this little party?”

Lae’zel and Shadowheart approached as a pair, the two of them jostling for space near Karlach’s feet. She resisted the urge to pull back, keep them safe, because Shadowheart sported a rare smile and Lae’zel was arching towards Karlach like a lizard seeking the sun. They brought with them bedrolls and blankets—clear plans to stay.

A pair of red eyes suddenly appeared, hovering ominously for a moment before they solidified into Astarion, surveying the group.

“Well, aren’t you all just adorable,” he purred. “The fearsome defenders of Faerûn felled by a cold night. I’m feeling safer already.”

“Not all of us are blessed with a spawn’s resistance to cold.” Wyll passed by Astarion’s shoulder, pausing only a fraction of a moment before snagging his collar and dragging him along. The fact that Astarion let him wasn’t half as shocking as the smile Wyll gave her while fluffing up his pillow, like having Karlach there was a gift.

One all of them were determined to appreciate.

They settled around her in perfect symmetry then: two above, two below, and one on either side. Karlach thought about saying, “Thank you.” Maybe, “Love you.” The words were still caught in her throat though, too heavy now for the gentle sound of six friends breathing in comfort. Karlach couldn’t disturb that.

So instead she concentrated on the feeling of other bodies lying near and the relaxation gracing Tav’s face. She couldn’t touch them, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t touched.

Smiling, Karlach let the purr of her heart lull her into sleep.

[ozzyoftheangels]

My silly little sad post S2 GO story

“I forgive you.”

“Don’t bother.”

Crowley stared at Aziraphale, his best friend, with his heart in his hands. At least, the heart that would be in his hands if he were truly human. He turned on his heel, walked out of their shop— out of Aziraphale’s shop, he climbed into their car— into his car, and held the wheel, his knuckles white with how hard he gripped it. He glanced through the window of the bookshop, and watched the elevator doors shut, Aziraphale disappearing behind them.

———

Aziraphale stood in the elevator, stepping out when he reached heaven. He stared at the button that would take him to hell, and for a fleeting moment, the idea crossed his mind. No. What’s done is done. He sighed, and stepped out of the elevator, nodding lightly upon being greeted by a few other angels, before he walked straight ahead, to his office. He bit his lip, looking around at the emptiness of the room. Aziraphale’s heart felt just as empty as the office. He already missed the books, and the cocoa, and the music…and Crowley’s plants.

“Oh, Crowley…”

He whispered, his eyes still wet from the tears Crowley had brought to them. He brought his fingers to his lips, which trembled. He could still feel the other’s lips against his own, and the way the demon had held the front of his coat so desperately, like he was scared to lose Aziraphale.

Like he was scared.

“..Oh, Crowley..” The angel whispered, a tear dripping down his rosy cheeks. “What have I done?”

———

Crowley slid his finger along the rim of his wine glass, glancing at the label on it. ‘Châteauneuf-de-Pape’. He sighed, and picked the bottle up, as if to pour himself another glass, before he let out an angry growl, throwing the bottle into the wall, making it shatter, and causing a pinkish red to seep into the wall, his plants trembling as they watched.

(Crowley had gone back to the book shop in a fit of anger, at first wanting to throw books around, but instead having gotten wasted and too drunk to stand properly for more than two seconds without needing to lean on something.)

He grumbled, and got to his feet, shooting at glare at his plants, snarling, and swatting their leaves angrily, his eyes wide, and furious. “What are you looking at?! I’m fucking fine!” He spat, his fingers curling as he dug his nails into one of the leaves on a larger plant. When he pulled his hand away, he ripped the plant, bringing the greenery with him.

“…”

He stared at the injured plant, his eyes widening in despair. Crowley brought his hands up to the shaking plant, and caressed the leaves, sobbing, his knees buckling as he fell to the ground. He clung to the pot that the plant was in, his face getting dirty as it was pressed against it.

Crowley had never truly cried like this before. In fact, he wasn’t sure why he was crying at all. It may have been because of the rejection he felt. Or maybe because he’d waited six thousand plus years to kiss the Angel. Or, perhaps, because hearing the Angel forgive him once again was his last straw.

“God damnit, Angel! I didn’t need you to forgive me! I just—“ He paused, needing to take a breath between his words, as the alcohol made it hard to think straight anyways.

“I just needed you to love me back!”

[whathebeep]

bro I read your fic about Tav being perma-dead and it killed my soul but in the best way possible? I had to take a minute after reading it bc oh my gosh it was written so well. I saw you were taking requests and was wondering if we could maybe get a fic about a Gale romance reaction? Like, maybe Tav died at the end of the game or maybe Mystra kills them somehow. If not, that’s completely fine! I just really wanted to know I love your writing! :)

I absolutely can do that! And AHH thank you, that means a lot to me! ♥️

I do like the idea of Mystra punishing Gale for not doing as he was told when it came to the orb 👀 sooooo it'll all be under the cut! Spoilers ofc for endgame of BG3!

It was all over. A new day dawned on Baldur's Gate, and they were all safe. They had won! The elder brain was destroyed and despite some bruises and scars, they were all still standing. Gale would have smiled more if something wasn't so suddenly wrong. So very terribly wrong.

It happened so fast. Time seemed to slow as his chest began to burn, began to glow bright with the Karthic orb buried inside him. It hurt, terribly so, as the orb pulled itself out of him. It was the size of a baseball as it hovered in the air before the group, a few of the others looking a little more hopeful. Even Gale was feeling hopeful- had Mystra had mercy on him? Forgiven him for helping solve the Absolute crisis without blowing himself up?

Then it struck Tav and enveloped them in a glowing purple light.

Tav cried out and Gale rushed forward to catch them, to catch the love of his life, the person who made him forget his goddess- only for his hands to go right through them. There on the docks Gale stood, eyes wide, as the glow faded and so did Tav. Their features faded away, and with the ocean breeze dust seemed to be carried away into the ocean.

They were gone.

And Gale suffered, gods did he suffer. He fell to his knees from the shock, from the sheer and utter pain. No, no, this wasn't happening. He denied it, he went through all the stages of grief like it were a ongoing loop. No. Mystra no, please gods no. Tears fell from his face and sobs wracked his body. He begged Mystra to not do this, to please bring Tav back- but there was no answers. The defeaning silence was so loud.

They had won...but at what cost?

The group was devastated and mourned with Gale, though his heart was shattered. There was nothing from Mystra, no word even from Elminster- but Gale still blamed himself. At least if he had taken himself and the absolute out with the orb at least the world would still be blessed by Tav's smile, by their heroics, by their kindness. Tav helped him when he was at his lowest, and now they were gone with the breeze, one with the ocean waves and the sunset on that dock.

And he was all alone, despite how many times he recreated their image and likeness within his magical capabilities...he was alone.

[thornedlamb]

@fallesto cont.

A sight to behold, another soul draws near, temptation gnawing at their essence. Such beings yearn for more time in the realm of mortals, craving power that was never theirs to seize, never meant for their grasp, unlike others. With narrowed eyes, she remained on her fallen knees, gazing upward at the arrival of yet another entity in this confining prison they shared.

“Another Dark Justiciar seeking their prize? Spare me your empty words; strike me down and be done with it.”

How many have come before?

Counting them was a futile endeavor, a task too cumbersome to bear, yet it hardly mattered. She would perish, only to rise again, and thus this wretched cycle would persist as she tossed her head back, fixing her gaze on the figure before her. “A once-great man, much like you, who fell victim to the corruption of power, his brilliance dragged through the filth.” With a determined push, she rose to her feet. They could end her life, claim their victory, but she would return once more.

An endless loop—

“The darkness enveloping the land, I can sense it from here, a foul sickness of death spreading, the dead clawing their way from the earth, replacing the living in their stead, an imbalance that cannot be allowed to persist.”

Clarity and determination surged within her as she strained against the chains binding her in this wretched prison. Cowards, every last one of them. They trembled at the thought of confronting her, whether in a fierce battle or a one-on-one duel, fully aware that she would obliterate them, incinerate the shadows they clung to, leaving not a trace behind for them to scuttle back from.

“Trust in your own strength, not in the deceitful games played by others—trickery, lies, and corruption will only twist you into the very beasts that have brought you here to me.”

With renewed vigor, she tugged at her restraints, fueled by a fierce resolve. She would shatter these chains, demolish this prison, and hunt them down, her blade poised to deliver justice. She would scorch them from existence, ensuring that the dead would stay buried, leaving no remnants to slink back into the world once she was done.

“Pause for just a moment and heed my words; break my chains and liberate me. I will stand by your side, fight for you, guarantee your survival, and unleash a devastating fury upon the dark forces that plague this land.”

Her eyes momentarily narrowed, a flicker of hope for clarity and reason. To endure for over a century, confined and locked away from the world, only to face death repeatedly at the hands of these creatures—each time inflicting the same searing pain. They fail to grasp the depth of her suffering, the anguish of being imprisoned for so long while another siphons her very essence, warping it, infusing it with darkness, and unleashing it upon the innocent souls of the land.

“Channel any faith you have into me. I cannot help you from this place; if you strike me down, you will only become like them. Rise, hero, and surpass their cruelty—make the right choice. I am not your foe; I am your ally. In these shadowy times, we must unite to dispel the darkness, once and for all.”

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎❝ Hey, wow, wow, wow...” he said, raising his arms like a criminal in front of a prosecutor. More a joke than anything. “You are really talking a lot…” Oh, overly dramatic women, why were there so many of these in his life? Not that the heir of slaughter disliked them. No, rather, he found them amusing. Most emotions had been beaten out of him, turning him as cold as the magic he wielded, so passionate individuals with burning emotions even affected his icy heart.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎❝ I serve a dark God, but Shar has nothing to do with me... and not even Ketheric has still much connection to her...” his head tilts as his arms cross, and the golden ornaments on his horns ring softly.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎❝Kethy is being secretive, and Balthasar is creeping around... so I decided to take a look at what they are trying to hide so desperately, ” with slow, calculating steps he walked around her. Wondering why he should care about the Shadow curse... about anything or anyone at all. Everything would die by his own hand one day.

Though, he found... In this space, the connection to his father weakened. This was where Shar held power, fighting it out with Selune that still rested in the form of Aylin.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎❝ See... faith was never an OPTION for me. It simply is what it is...” he stops in front of her again, gaze calculating but curious. She promised so much... how much could she keep?

But here he stood, without the leash around his neck, that he saw part of his own being. ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎❝ You could not even protect yourself from a grieving elf and a creepy necromancer... Tell me how’d you protect me from an evil God that forces my hand? Tell me how you’d keep me safe... something your mother never did, not for you, not for me... and maybe I’ll take you seriously...”

[disillusionedjudge]

@tarnishedxknight - continued from here

Never before had Gylfie felt so helpless. Too late had she noticed Drace's anger. Too late had she noticed that glint in her eyes and, perhaps, had she noticed it sooner, she could have stopped her from challenging Vayne. But he had been smart - he had brought up Larsa specifically to get a reaction. To secure his seat of power, to assert himself over all of them. With a Judge Magister dead from his orders and the unofficial head of them all being her chosen executioner--

She could not fault Gabranth for following Vayne's orders, for he had no choice. But she could not bear to watch him draw his dagger. Could not bear to see him strike Drace down where she stood, even as her body fell to the ground. Perhaps that made her a coward, but it was the only way she could keep her composure without flinching at the sight of blood. Without letting her rage take over if she met Vayne's smug stare or her father's silent challenge. Without letting her tears show as her heart all but shattered and as she did everything she could to keep her breathing steady. One wrong move and she knew Vayne would not hesitate to order Gabranth to kill her as well, if just to further break him.

But how it took everything in her not to snarl at Vayne's disrespect--

She was stopped before she could follow Gabranth, though the sight of him dragging Drace's body was nearly enough to bring her to her knees. She was no stranger to death, but, gods above, to see someone she loved--

"Do you think she can be trusted?"

Gylfie stood still as her father's voice rang out. Cold and distant and unfeeling. There was a thick knot in her throat, hot fury burning in her chest as she clenched her jaw tight and did everything she could not to clench her fists. Of course you would be so eager to see me gone, she wanted to sneer. She turned her head, and finally caught Vayne's stare.

Oh, how she wanted to kill him.

"Well, Gylfie?" Vayne's voice was honeyed - eyes lit like the cat that caught the canary. "What say you?"

Her heart pounded almost painfully now, but she was careful to keep her expression unreadable despite the storm in her heart. Despite the way her anger threatened to choke her. "I would never dream of betraying you, Excellency," she said just as silkily, and gave a respectful bow of her head. "My duty is to the Empire and her Emperor. Not to fools who dare raise their sword against." Gods, Drace, I'm so sorry-- "It was a death well deserved."

Takrin snorted and she could feel his scowl upon her, but she kept her gaze fixed on Vayne. Unable to tell what truly was going on in his mind as he stared back. She was not fool enough to think he believed her, but--

He tilted his head, and waved his hand dismissively. "Be sure to send Gabranth back when he has finished. There is much else to discuss."

Her stomach lurched, but she kept her mouth shut. Instead, she offered one last bow as his attention turned to the other Judge Magisters, and quickly made her escape. Blood roared in her ears, though she dared not let herself even think about everything that had just occurred. She could not let herself falter. Not when there was too much at stake. Not when--

She had not been held up long enough to lose track of Gabranth, and it took her not long to catch up to him. She was ever the hound's faithful pup, after all, but even she knew better than to attempt to aid when he was in such a foul mood. Her distance from him making it clear to those around them it was unwise to offer assistance. But she could see that his fury was not quite right. Perhaps tempered or aggravated by his grief. His guilt. Or, perhaps, something was not all it appeared to be...

Something was not right with Drace, either. Gylfie knew well what death did to the body it left behind, and... it seemed not to have touched Drace like it had anyone else. Her skin was still flushed with color, rather than ashen. Her eyes closed, but Gylfie could swear she saw the tiniest of movement beneath her eyelids--

She dared not hold onto the hope it had been a ploy in case she was wrong. Her heart... Her heart simply could not bear to be wrong. But the minute they reached Gabranth's private quarters and the door was locked, did Drace sit up and--

Gylfie was at her side in an instant. Her vision blurred with tears as she grasped her hand, unspoken apologies burning in the back of her throat as it choked her. She was alive. Gods above, she was alive, but she knew that if anyone were to discover this, it would mean the death of them all. But... she could hardly find it in her to care as she sat beside Drace and turned her attention to Gabranth. Doing her best to collect herself with a sharp breath through her nose as she blinked back her tears, and felt her heart shudder in her chest. She could not lose them. She would not lose them.

"Vayne requests your presence once you have finished," she said at last - her voice hoarse. "I know not about, but it involves the other Judge Magisters. If I were to guess..." Her gaze flicked back to Drace, her brow furrowed tight, and, oh, how her heart ached to see her so dazed. "I would fathom it has something to do with Lord Larsa." Her mind spun. She hardly felt there with how her emotions were tossed about like waves against the shore - torn between wanting to stay by Drace's side and trying to pull Gabranth back. But her attention snapped up to him as he spoke, and she felt her throat tighten. How rare it was for him to use her first name.

How it made her heart hurt. She could only imagine the war that was raging in his mind, but they could not afford to waste more time.

"Of course I will," Gylfie whispered. "I swear to you, I will keep her safe. Just be careful, Gabranth. I fear what Vayne may attempt next."

It took everything in her not to pace. She had helped Drace with her armor, tried to get her to speak, but... she was so distant. Gylfie understood why - she knew all too well the feeling of the brush with death, even if Drace had not been physically wounded. She was... absent. Her gaze distant. It was clear her mind was elsewhere, and Gylfie had no doubt she was thinking of Gabranth, rather than herself. She knew how she felt for him, regardless of what they shared, and all she could do was offer to be there. To try and focus on her, to keep her mind off her own worries. Her own fears of what was happening as the hours began to pass by with no sign of Gabranth.

Had Vayne realized his deception? Was it only a matter of time before they were found?

She dared not think of such. Instead, she tried to coax Drace into getting some sleep - to try and offer her mind some peace so she could assess the situation after some rest. It would do her well, she knew, but... She was not at all surprised when Drace refused, but her words only served to push Gylfie over the edge.

With a shaky breath, Gylfie finally began to pace - her jaw clenched tight as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her heart pounding once more. "Drace," she said, her voice taut, but... she was far from frustrated. Agitated, yes, and... torn. Oh, how torn was she, between wanting to help both Drace and Gabranth, but all too aware that one wrong misstep could doom them all. "I know. Vayne has never once acted upon merit. But I... I cannot..."

She stopped, and felt her heart break all over again as she met Drace's gaze. As she saw how crestfallen she was. To see someone once so powerful - so proud and strong and elegant - reduced to such a husk... She felt as though she were witnessing a god bleed. She could hardly bear the thought of breaking her vow to Gabranth to keep watch over Drace, but she could hardly stand not knowing what had become of him, and to deny Drace's request as well. But, perhaps...

Gylfie closed her eyes and tilted her head back - her brow furrowed tight as she took a deep breath to steady herself. To try and pull herself together and distance herself from her emotions. To act as the Judge she was. There was a solution in all of this. There was... Three. There were three.

Gabranth would hate all of them, wouldn't he?

"I dare not leave you alone,-" she said finally. Her voice still strained, but... firm. Making it clear what she was about to say was not up for debate. "-but I fear for Gabranth as well. I give you three options in this. Either I bring you to your family, and you stay hidden, and I will return to you as soon as it is safe to do, or I take you out of Archades entirely, and bring you to someone I know will keep you safely out of the Empire's watchful gaze. Or--" Oh, this was something she was reluctant to bring up, because she had a feeling it would be the one Drace would choose. "Or you come with me. Lord Larsa should be reaching Bur-Omisace if he has not already, and I have no doubt Vayne will be sending the Judge Magisters to collect him,-" if not to make an attack "-and I wish to be there to make sure he is safe. Something is wrong with Bergan, and I do not trust him not to act out what he believes to be his master's wishes. But if you join me, you must stay out of sight. The moment the others see you are alive, you, Gabranth, and I will not live to see another day. Vayne will make sure of it."

Not that she needed to explain it. She knew Drace would be well aware of Vayne's intentions, but... "You and Gabranth are all I have," she added - her voice quiet. Her expression pained as she finally turned to face her. "I will not lose either of you now."