#because - in his own pain and despair - he decided to 'handle' his suffering by giving it some higher meaning

[ghostinthetumbchine]

and morgoth is sitting in the void and cackling on all this chaos because all of this was actually by his design (wrong, it was erus all along, this all to form the people into what they were meant to became i guess)

[lisinfleur]

Memento Mori

The request:

Author’s Notes | This came out sadder than I thought. But it’s beautiful imo and I hope you like it. Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | requested by anon for 5CW Ivar II, posted for HTGI Event. Words | 1894 ⁑ Warnings: Triggering content: mentions of child loss (past), mentions to burns, deep angst. Caution is recommended, the following content may be triggering to some audiences.

She became my queen.

From a woman I couldn't handle looking at to the one I didn't want to take my eyes off, Y/N became the most precious of my treasures.

And perhaps it was the reason why finding that piece of metal hidden beneath her pillow was such a huge betrayal to me.

Perhaps it was for loving her too deeply that I let out raw screams of rage that woke up the whole Hall when I found that symbol of her lies.

I could remember every trace of our story.

The day I chose her from the line of our Saxon's slaves because she noticed I was in pain.

"I know how to care for these pains, my lord."

Her ointments, her treatments, how slowly she eased the pain of my body more than any healer was able to do. How, one night at a time, it brought her closer to me like a companion.

How it made me talk to her, be gentler, try to get her smiles.

How her presence became the easiest way to get mine.

My fingers pressed that piece of retorted metal, remembering how deep I'd fallen in love with her. How she promised she would leave her past for me. How I asked her to come home with me. To come into my life. To be mine, and no one else's.

Every single promise of hers was broken by that piece's presence.

How could I trust her when she was betraying me like that? Laying beside me with that symbol as if it wasn't a crime by itself against my trust, against my love.

Against everything.

"How could you?" I yelled when she came into our room, attracted by my screams. "How could you lie to me like this?"

The metal cross, made of gold and silver, hanging from my fingers for her major shock and surprise.

"Ivar..."

"No!" I yelled again.

My voice was as loud as the pain was big in my heart.

"I've been trusting you all these years, Y/N. I trusted your promises! I made you my wife!" I said, looking at her with fierce and sharp blues. "I made you my queen... I gave you everything and this... This is how you repay my love!"

"Ivar no!" she insisted, trying to approach. "It's not what you think..."

I pushed her away, watching as she fell near the fireplace.

"Don't come to me with more of your lies, woman!" I kept yelling, furious. "What more, Y/N?" I asked.

My eyes deep inside of hers.

"What more about you is a lie? What more did you tell me you would do that you're not doing, my dear wife? Uh? What more?!"

Her tears started rolling down her face, but I could see her eyes were focused on the piece in my hand, and it just made me angrier. She wasn't really feeling bad nor guilty about lying to me.

No.

Her major concern was that piece in my hands. That cross was so beloved that she could ignore my deepest wounds to look at it with all the fear of Midgard in her eyes.

She wasn't afraid of losing me the same way she was terrified by the idea of losing that scrap of meaningless metal I had in my hands.

I've seen it in red.

I didn't see when I threw that shit in the fire, hearing with contempt the yell of despair her voice converted into. Watching with deception while she burned her own fingers to pick that piece from the fire, hurting her hands I'd caressed so many times.

Everything just to have back that meaningless symbol of her treason.

The metal didn't even have time to get warm enough to be damaged, but she had marks from the burning wood she had touched fearlessly for that insignificant proof of her crime.

"Is it this strong?" I asked, looking at her with disdain. "Your faith in him is so..."

"It was my child's!" she cried out loud, cutting my voice.

Freezing me in place when her sobs broke her voice, and I saw her bringing that cross close to her heart, embracing it with her wounded hands as if it was the most precious thing in this world.

"It was my child's crucifix," she sobbed. "It was everything that's left from my baby boy. I didn't have time to pick up his clothes. I couldn't pick up anything. This is everything that's left."

My shock was maybe as big as my confusion.

"You... Had a child?" I asked, totally stunned by those words.

Still trembling, Y/N lifted her face, looking at me with thick tears in her eyes full of sorrow.

"My little Rafael..." she mumbled, making my face frown with all the love in the way she spoke his name.

I could remember hearing something about a Rafael from Bishop Heahmund, cycles ago. Something about an arch-angel or something like that.

"I named him after the archangel of healing, begging God to heal his awful pain. Begging anyone who could bless my hands to relieve his constant misery," she continued.

Crushing my heart with the sigh of my mother's eyes on hers.

She was speaking of her Rafael the same way mother used to speak about... Me.

"He was my everything. My one and only child my husband didn't want to accept. He left me because of Rafael's condition, saying I'd given birth to a demon. But My child wasn't a demon!" she yelled.

Defending her child... The same way mother would do to me...

"He's not a monster!"

I swallowed dry as she continued, making that knot in my throat almost suffocating.

"Rafael was just a child in pain. His legs were like yours," she cried.

Her burnt fingers caressing the jewel in her hands.

"Sometimes, I couldn't even hold my son without hurting him," she mumbled painfully. "Sometimes, even the minimum movement would break his little bones, so I was twice as careful when doing anything to my little angel. But..."

The pause in her voice filled my heart with sorrow.

I had never scratched that part of her story. I could imagine why.

I could imagine how it would end.

"First, I thought he was indeed a little angel God decided to take back to the sky. Then... Then the anger came. Why would God make such an innocent angel suffer like that? Why giving him to me if I would have to bury his little broken body with my bare hands? I yelled at God. I cried at him. But he never answered me. And then... I got revolted. My little Rafael wasn't with me anymore. And it was God's fault for doing him that way! It was God's fault for allowing my child to suffer. It was my fault for producing him imperfectly. It was everyone's fault!" she paused, swallowing her sobs for a moment. "And when your men came, when your faith came, and I've heard your words about yourself, I finally understood. It was no one's fault. It was his fate. It was my fate. And God didn't make him like that to suffer. No. The gods had given him to me as a gift so he could spend the most beautiful days of my life in my arms. The gods had cut the thread of his life to spare him from suffering cause his condition was worse than yours. And he wouldn't survive as long as you did."

Her words were killing me inside, softly.

She'd found relief in my faith. She'd found an answer to her questions in my gods. And there I was, hurting her because of a stupid necklace.

"The gods showed me their mercy bringing you into my life so I could understand my child's fate. And so..." Y/N looked at me. "So I thought they wouldn't be mad if I saved this little memento. It means nothing the faith it carries, Ivar. It's not Christ's cross anymore. This... This is my remembrance of my sweet Rafael. This doesn't turn me to the skies, Ivar. This makes me remember his tiny little fingers trying to catch this cross in my hands, or his giggles whenever it would shine for him to see."

Her voice broke. The sobs engulfed her. And I saw her embracing the necklace again as if she could embrace her child the gods had taken from her so soon.

How stupid I was. How unfair could I be?

I sat in my bed, taking off my braces and dragging myself closer to her, bringing my bandages and ointment I took from my nightstand. Slowly, I took the small piece from her hands, treating it with the proper respect when I placed it gently on her neck, carrying for her hands and bandaging the burns after spreading the ointment over them.

I kissed her fingers and cupped her face, kissing her forehead and wiping her tears.

"I'm sorry," I said, looking into her eyes. "I'm deeply sorry for what I did, my love. Forgive me, please." I asked.

No shame of showing my regret, gently caressing her cheeks.

She leaned into my hands, so mine. Her eyes closed as she felt my caresses, sighing as if they could soothe the pain in her heart.

"I didn't lie to you, my heart. I swear," she mumbled.

"Shhh..." I said, touching her lips gently. "I know. I was wrong," I mumbled, touching our foreheads, slowly nuzzling my nose to hers.

"He taught me how to take care of you, my love," she said, opening her eyes so deep into mine. "I've learned with my child how to soothe your pain. He was so important in my life... I would've never known how to care for you if it wasn't for his existence. He allowed us to exist. And I'm so grateful I had him, although it was for such little time, I'm grateful."

I held her in my arms, cradling her body against mine. And I stayed there a long time trying to compensate for my horrible behavior.

When she fell asleep that night, I went out of our house. I crawled up on the hill, and I gathered stones. I placed them all together, and marked them with runes, placing some flowers and small decorations around them.

I made it as if it was my own child. And I prayed for him, asking the gods he could hear me that single night.

"I don't know where you are. If with Hel or in heaven, as the Christians believe. But I want you to know I'll take care of her. I swear on my arm ring I'll never make her cry like this once again. And when your brothers and sisters come, I'll tell them about you. I'll tell them your story. So, you shall live through them. So, you shall live forever."

After that, I saw my dear Y/N with her precious cross here or there. She didn't have to hide it from me anymore, so, sometimes, I would see her holding the small jewel with tenderness. But now, it had a whole new meaning to me.

And I knew, somewhere in the afterlife, a child was very happy for the loving mother that brought him into this world someday.

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[trulyhumblenarcissist]

Abourt Rei Himura and BNHA Chapter 301

Now that I've read the official release of chapter 301 I can finally try to gather my thoughts. I think this time the particular rendition of dialogues and inflections provided by Caleb Cook is more crisp and clear than usual, especially in throwing "shade" upon Endeavor as a father figure. But let's do things in order...

Title: THE WRONG WAY TO PUT OUT A FIRE - a simple, but stark message that doesn't leave space for ambiguity. There was a fire, an imminent tragedy that could and should have been avoided, but whoever tried to fix it, did it all wrong and now we have to deal with a huge arson.

CARLESS HANDLING OF FIRE, on the other hand, doesn't quite cut it for me, because it seems like everything was caused by a foolish mistake. "I was carless and now I'm in a pinch"- type of situation, while it's perfectly clear that Endeavor and Rei decided purposefully which "strategy" to use with Touya. A BAD one to say it lightly. Rei's contribution and complicity is debatable, of course, and I'll touch on this later.

Let me get this clear though: I'm not trying in any way to critique the hard work of unofficial translators. I can't say anything relevant because I'm not a translator in the first place (I can barely understand English and my native language on a good day) and also because I am so grateful for everything they do in order to give us really good material FREE OF CHARGE basically a second after the release in Japan. I'm just interested about the different shades of subtext we can catch if we read the story through multiple filters. Every translation is unique because it carries the personal spin of the author even if the bias should be inexistent or ideally undetectable...

However, back to the chapter

REI'S CAGE

The first scene opens on a luxurious classic Japanese villa, with Enji, Rei and her parents discussing the motivation behind Enji's proposal. Or at least we initially think that's what's going on... Because in reality Rei's family couldn't care less about the motivation. Everything these people see is a wealthy, famous guy the next number one hero ready to take their daughter in marriage. I guess the Himuras are pretty broke, thight on cash, their old prestige is definitely gone and all they can do to save themselves from shame and poverty is "to sell" their only remaining asset.

During the whole ordeal, Rei is standing still, silent, cold as ice. She knows she doesn't really have a choice. How mortifying and sad is this? An adult, capable woman has no agency whatsoever, she is used again and again and she stoically accepts this treatment from every single dominant figure in her life until she can't be stoic anymore. I really hope Horikoshi's going to give her a much more proactive role in saving her family and it seems the narrative wants us to expect this type of character development.

I'd like to point out 2 panels in particular:

First one

In this scene the Todorokis are back from their trip to the doc, who clearly said they shouldn't try to conceive a child with a perfect quirk mix because it is dangerous (and morally questionable too). Rei understands this fact and tries to dissuade Enji, but he doesn't listen, because he's projecting all his pent-up resentment and frustration onto Touya. He knows how it feels to crush against an unbreakable wall, since he can't surpass All might and his son can't too. He had to learn this truth the hard way, so Touya needs to do the same. Enji is purposefully throwing upon his son years of failures, self consciousness and despair, just because the boy has to get it into his thick skull that he is a dud, just like his father. This is not a hopeless dad making a mistake bona fide, this is a broken man trying to destroy his self reflection by proxy, annihilating everything Touya is, swiping the kid's identity under the rug. He describes his son's dreams and sadness as something birthed from stubbornness. He is auto-convincing himself however (because Endeavor is not stupid). A little bit later he's basically saying: "Touya let's play make believe! We can go on like everything I had engulfed in your psyche never existed, you're a failed attempt so you don't exist. Your needs and wants are silly and useless, nothing worth dealing with now that I can't make you my prodigy. Why don't you go play with the other failures so that I don't have to look at myself while taking actually care of you. I don't want to see you, because it's too painful, because you're a remainder of my own inadequacy."

Note: If you want to read an incredibly well done analysis about Endeavor's motives and psyche, you can get it on @thyandrawrites , she's dwelt on everything extensively and way better than me.

I really want to talk about Rei though. In the panel I showed above, her expression is a bit tricky to analyse. At first she is very vocal about her position. She doesn't want to put Touya through useless suffering, especially since they have a scientific reason not to. They have no guarantee of success with other children, besides, they could possibly have to deal with other health related issues. However, all it takes to convince her in the end is Enji's half assed attempt at the "It's for Touya's sake" shtick. Is it really? Why doesn't she question her husband anymore?

Well... I think before Natsuo, she was probably hoping Touya would let go "naturally", with time and growth, maybe by taking interest in his other siblings. Rei said she wanted to have more children because in her mind they would have supported and loved each other. Maybe she was naive enough to think that a big family full of kids few years apart from each other was all Touya needed to distract himself from his purposes... BUT and here is the point I want to get across: She was deluding herself too, much like Enji. The ugly truth, in my opinion, is that Rei is a person prone to protect herself by going with everything other people want, especially if said people are capable of hurting her. Yes, she was hurt time and time again, but what would have happened if she really tried to stop Enji?

What I am trying to say is that Rei is the kind of person who endures to survive. She holds a "captive" mentality in which, by indulging her captor's desires, she can continue living with less possibile damage. If I stay still and silent, if I don't make a scene, I can go on, I can hold onto the few things I have that actually make me happy.

Let's think about it... Enji was so obsessed with his psychotic, power-hungry quest that he would have probably disown Rei. She would have been thrown away for a more compliant woman with an ice quirk, or something similar, this resulting in her probably losing everything, the respect and love of her family (the Himuras) and also her own children. Because we know Endeavor can definitely hold a grudge and is vendicative.

So, clarifying, Rei doesn't put up a fight because she is scared for herself in a way... She is scared to be hurt in the worst possible way (by losing her little bit of serenity), so her strategy is to endure and to keep up a facade of control and purpose.

Rei, ironically just like Touya and other characters in mha, doesn't really get what unconditional love is. Her family loves her until she can be useful to the Himura name and status, her husband loves her for her quirk. Her children, however, love her for who she is and she wants to stay with them... Only to be forced to leave them later anyway.

The few times Rei actually smiles are when she is with her babies. She is a deeply loving mother in her core, but her declining mental health makes her a very lacking caregiver.

This panel, in my opinion, shows the point of no return for Rei. She can't keep the glacial facade forever...

After Natsuo's turn to be deemed a failure, Endeavor is crazier than ever, because All Might is as popular and loved as ever and he hasn't make any progress into his eugenetic games. The last two images of Rei are very telling. She is exhausted, but she knows what her husband wants from her this time too. She looks like a lifeless doll and honestly I can easily see Shouto's conception as... Non consensual and I will stop here.

Then Shouto is born, the last, perfect specimen... And Rei isn't doing much for Touya, we can see she's apparently blind towards her eldest son's distress already after Natsuo's birth... But why?

Because she is actively avoiding to face the Touya's problems too.

If Touya is still suffering, is still feeling stressed and worthless, then everything Rei has endured, everything she pretended not to feel for the sake of her family has been completely useless. What Rei cannot look at is her own parental failure, is the concrete proof that while protecting herself and her peace she did not protect her children too, because the two interests were never really aligned, even if she really believed so. She never had a functional family to preserve in the first place and everything she accepted to do was all for the sake of a false sense of belonging.

However is too easy to say she should've rebelled against Enji and dumped his sorry ass. Abuse traps you and your abuser too in a cage tricky to escape.

What I imagine will happen next chapter is one of two things:

Enji stops Touya by using brute force, probably also saying something really scarring to reinforce the notion that Shouto is the only child he cares about.

Rei stops Touya by using her quirk. This act could be considered by Touya another confirmation that even his mother actually does something by her own accord only when Shouto's safety is at risk

Necessary conclusions

I don't blame Rei for her actions too much. She is a victim turned abuser by circumstances, but more importantly she's actually taken mesures to prevent herself from hurting her children again. She's trying to heal for her family's sake, really this time. Ten years spent dealing with guilt and having actual therapy seem a good plan to me. And now she's the one ready to snap Enji back to reality.

Enji, on the other hand, is trying too. It's too little too late, but if he stops avoiding reality and hardly works on understanding his family's point of view I don't think he is completely unredeemable. I don't see him surviving his last confrontation with Touya, thought... But I could be totally wrong.

Obviously everything I've said it's my personal analysis on Rei's character, as I interpret her actions and words, so feel free to contradict me and/or to add anything you might see fit.

[captainrexforever]

Trials and Tribulations 1/2

Rating: T

Word Count: ~4k

Summary: The reader discovers that she has formed a force bond with her Mandalorian companion. This has some unforeseen complications during the events at the Imperial refinery on Morak.

Warnings: cannon typical violence, reader is seriously injured, mentions of blood, Dad! Fett, fluff, angst

Notes: I was planning for this to be wayyy more angsty, but I just couldn’t bear to put poor Din through any more hurt. I hope you enjoy! Don’t forget to comment if you have a suggestion or an idea. 

Pt. 2

It seems like only a moment ago Din disappeared down the mountain to assist Fennec. You grab a hold of the child, thanking the stars that he has finally emerged from his trance-like state, and cradle him gently as you check over his vitals to ensure he is not injured. 

Once the sound of blaster fire begins to fade, you prepare to make the trek down the mountainside as well. It looks as if the remaining stormtroopers are in full retreat, their transports blasting off from the surface in a hurry. A final explosion-wait, was that a rocket? did Din have a rocket launcher and not tell you?-wipes the ships out of the sky, and you let out a sigh of relief. Although it would be best to leave the planet as quickly as possible, you can’t resist enjoying the view for a moment. It’s been a long time since you or Mando have been able to take a break. There is always a new danger, a new threat, that compromises the safety of your small group. 

A red laser bolt screams past your ear, slicing through your peripheral vision like an omen of death. You can only stand there, helpless, as you witness the bolt strike the motionless Razor Crest. The ship that has served as your home for months is suddenly reduced to a smoking crater of ash. There is a good chance that you’re in shock, and by the time you notice the dark troopers descending on your position it’s too late. Before you can draw your blaster, a droid sweeps your feet out from beneath you and you fall to the unforgiving ground, cursing as stones pierce into the skin of your back. 

Mando is still running up the mountain side when he notices your body crumple to the ground, and he’s overtaken by blind rage, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he wills himself to move faster. Blaster shots ring out in the silence and his whole body seizes up in pain when he hears your screams. 

You grit your teeth as you fight the pain flooding your body. There’s already blood flowing from the blaster shot in your chest and the one in your left leg, but you refuse to give in to the pain. Your fingers close around the child’s robe, struggling to secure their hold as a droid tears him from your arms. Biting back another cry of pain, you will yourself to stand, only to come face to face with the barrel of a wrist-mounted blaster. 

It would have been your last breath if Mando hadn’t arrived at that exact moment. The droid standing over you wirrs in distress as a searing laser bolt catches it in the throat. With every last ounce of strength you crane your neck towards the direction of the blast, vision swimming as you register the presence of a familiar beskar-clad figure. 

~~

Din curses his poor timing as he rushes towards your prone figure. One finger is already bare, falling to your neck to check for a pulse even as the digits of his other hand connect with his helmet to activate long-range vision. The child is too far gone, he’ll never be able to reach him even if he retrieves his jetpack. His ship is nothing but a pile of ashes, the medical equipment necessary to assist with your condition lost along with the Crest. For just a second Din allows himself to feel despair, loss, anger...love. A tear rolls down his cheek, concealed beneath the beskar that shields the world from his emotions. 

What is a man with nothing left to fight for?

In the next second he is back to his impassive, stoic self. He needs a plan. Fennec, where’s Fennec…

“They’ve got the baby, don’t let them get away.” She’s speaking into her comm.

“Affirmative, I have a lock.” Fett answers.

Din can feel his heart seize, threatening to break through its emotional barriers again. He can’t suffer another loss. “Stop him, I don’t want the child hurt.”

She gives him a terse nod. “Abort pursuit, disengage, do not harm the child.”

“Copy, I’ll do a loose follow, see where they’re headed.” A pause. “They’re back.” Fett’s tone is clouded in disbelief. 

“Who?” Fennec questions, but Din already knows the answer.

“The Empire, they’re back.”

“That can’t be, the outer rim is under the jurisdiction of the New Republic.”

“This isn’t a spice dream. I can see the imperial cruiser with my own eyes. Heading down.”

A ship, Fett has a ship. “Tell him to hurry, my companion might not make it without immediate medical attention.” Din demands, realizing he’s taking liberties, but it’s your life on the line damnit.

“The girl’s been injured, she needs medical attention.” Fennec relays.

“Copy that. I’ll prepare the med bay.” 

Din breathes a sigh of relief, perhaps this man really is a true Mandalorian. He brushes several stray hairs out of your face, grounding himself for a moment before he checks how bad your wounds are. He chokes on a breath when he lifts your duraweave tunic up slightly. There is a fist sized hole in your abdomen, and although he’s treated wounds far worse during his career as a bounty hunter, the sight of the wound of your body has him feeling light headed and nauseous. He’s spitting curses under his breath as he moves to check the wound on your thigh. It’s not much better off. 

Shit.

Fett better have some damn good medical supplies on his ship, because there is no way Din is going to allow you to be patched together with machinery like the ex-mercenary currently standing to his left. 

As gently as he can manage, he slides an arm underneath your torso, desperately trying to ignore the way your blood coats his vambrace and the duraweave cloth beneath it. His other arm slides underneath your legs, settling into the bend between your thigh and calf. As gently as Din can manage, he lifts you from the ground, panicking when your head lolls backwards at an awkward angle. He feels awkward, out of place, and completely unequipped to be handling a situation like this. Fennec must decide to have pity on his poor soul because she steps over to him with a knowing glance. 

“I know you’re a damn good fighter, but I can’t help but notice that you’re not accustomed to holding a woman in your arms.”

It’s true, and he shouldn’t feel embarrassed, but it still makes him flush red underneath the helmet. 

“May I?” She gestures towards your still form.

A possessive growl rises in his throat at the thought of Fennec carrying you instead of him. 

“Relax Mando, I’m just going to adjust her positioning.” 

She’s muttering under her breath, low enough that not even the microphones within his helmet can detect the syllables, but he does catch her mumble ‘what a couple of lovesick fools’. The words have his face erupting into flames once again. 

Din stills pins her with a glare as she reaches for your head, tilting it up so that you can rest your cheek against his arm, right below his left pauldron. Then she takes a hold of your left arm, which currently hovers in the air, and sets it on your abdomen.

“There, I’m sure she is much more comfortable now.” Fennec finishes. 

Din just nods, still half-heartedly glaring at her from beneath the helmet. 

“Let’s go, I’m sure Fett has landed already.”

He nods again, gesturing for her to lead the way. His gaze falls to you and he can’t help but notice that your face is twisted in discomfort. That’s the last thing he wants right now.

“Are you certain she is comfortable?”

“Mando, stop fussing, women love to be held. It’s probably your stiff posture that’s making her uncomfortable.”

He feels like growling at her retreating figure, but resists the temptation. Instead, he drops his visor back towards your face, scrabbling for something-anything-that will help you feel more comfortable. 

“It’s alright, I’m here ner verd’ika. (My little warrior) You can rest, I’ve got you. Don’t worry about the kid, we’ll get him back, I promise.”

Maybe it’s coincidence, but the moment he finishes speaking you let out a breathy sigh, the frown on your face relaxing into a neutral expression as you nuzzle further into his shoulder. 

~~

You wake up later in an unfamiliar location, startling yourself into full consciousness as you try to take in the surroundings. Tears sting at your eyes and you bite back a sob. The Crest, your home, it’s gone. 

“I heard you had a rough day.”

Your gaze snaps forward towards the doorway, and you feel like crying all over again. Cara, your lifelong friend, is propped up against the doorframe. You’re not usually one for sentiment, but you open your arms as wide as you can manage, meeting her eyes as you plead for a hug. She rushes towards you, wrapping you up in an embrace so tight that you think she might crack a rib. 

“You had us worried for a while. It’s been a few days.”

A few...A few days. A choked out ‘huh?’ is the only response you can manage with her arms crushing your frame. 

“Sorry.” She pulls back, releasing you from her grasp. What the kriff, is she wiping a tear from her eye? “You had us worried. Your condition was so poor that you needed a blood transfusion.”

“What? That’s impossible. The chances of finding someone with my blood type within 100 parsecs are slim to none.” 

“Well…” 

Why is she hesitating? 

“Turns out you and I have the same blood type.” 

Kriffing hell! Your heart jumps into your throat. There have only been a handful of times where Din has made a dramatic entrance without practically frightening you into cardiac arrest. This is not one of them. A quick glance around the remainder of the room reveals the Mandalorian seated in a booth in the far corner. 

“You frightened me half to death Mando!” There’s a spike of surprise-not your own-that tickles at the back of your brain, and the feeling leaves you a little tense. 

“Well that’s not a very nice way to greet your saviour.”

“What?” You inquire. 

Mando grunts at you, impassive as always. The visor of his helmet betrays none of his feelings. “I said, you and I have the same blood type.”

Beneath the helmet he’s a little worried, you’ve never asked him to repeat himself. Don’t panic, he instructs himself. It’s probably just because you’re still a little out of it after the anti-pain stim you received. That’s all. He decides to jump straight into business before his worries get too far out of hand. 

“We’re going after the kid.”

You nod in response, you figured as much. A fuzzy memory plays out in the back of your mind like a worn out holotape, ‘don’t worry...we’ll get him back...promise.’

“What’s the plan?” You ask, looking to Cara. 

“The kid is on Moff Gideon’s cruiser. We need to acquire the coordinates for his position.”

“Ok, whatever you need, I can do it.”

“I know,” she shoots you a grateful glance, “but we are going to need imperial help, ex-imperial help, to be specific. We’re on our way to pick up a New Republic prisoner who is serving a sentence in the Karthon Chop Fields. You might remember him, Migs Mayfeld.”

“Oh, I remember him.” Specifically, you remember wanting to dropkick him into the nearest star system for being such an arrogant bastard. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as you get your ass out of bed and get dressed.” 

You sputter indignantly, hurtling the nearest object in sight-which happens to be a roll of bandages-at her head. She just laughs at you as she sidesteps the projectile and darts out of the room. 

Huh, there’s that tickle in the back of your brain again. Annoyed, you scratch at your head for a second, puzzled when the sensation doesn’t go away. You decide to opt for a different tactic, concentrating on the feeling until it becomes a little clearer. It���s a sound you realize, the sound of...laughter? 

Wait just a minute. Why that no good, beskar wearing nerf herder! You swing your head around, so quickly that you can hear the bones of your spine crackle in protest, and pin him with a deadly glare. Only to realize he’s not even looking at you. In fact, he’s in the process of polishing his blaster. 

You shake your head, baffled. You must be imagining things. A moment later Mando re-assembles his blaster with a practiced ease, twirls it lightly in his hand, and then holsters it as he stands. 

“I’ll leave you to it.” 

Then he too is stepping out the door with a swish of his cape. 

“Oh, and I think you’re gonna like Fett’s ship.” 

By the time you open your mouth to respond he’s already gone. 

~~

“So what’s your story? How’d you and the big guy meet?” 

You glance up, hoping to catch Cara’s gaze, an unspoken question radiating across your face. She nods her head subtly in silent confirmation. 

“Cara and I were both New Republic shocktroopers. We grew up together, enlisted together, fought together, eventually went into early retirement together. (The last part was only mostly true, but Fennec didn’t need to know that). That’s how we ended up on Sorgan, where we met the Mandalorian. He enlisted our help in mopping up a group of raiders for a job he’d taken on. After our payment we were planning to go our separate ways, but the kid formed quite an attachment to me, so I decided to tag along with him and Mando for a bit. At the time, neither of us understood why the kid was so attached. I’m not very good with children anyways.”

Fennec nods her head as you continue.

“Well apparently, according to this Jedi that we came across a couple weeks ago, I have a connection to some magical force, similar to the child. That’s what drew him to me."

“Huh, interesting.” 

“I know, right.” 

Here’s the thing though. What you hesitate to tell Fennec is that Ahsoka also informed you that you possessed a special gift as a result of your connection to the Force. Although your gift had not yet presented itself, she was certain that it would become apparent in your near future.

Sure enough, after the struggle on Tython and the resulting blood transfusion, you have started to hear voices in your head. You are sure that they are thoughts, since they are often disjointed and oddly phrased. And, maybe you’re crazy, but the voices sound oddly similar to the modulated voice of your beskar-clad companion.

For example, if you concentrate really hard right now you can hear noise, not like that of an engine (because you’re on a ship), but that of a conversation. Right now the voices are chattering about...ammunition charges? You snort in amusement. That sounds like something Din would be thinking about. Fennec gives you a funny look, but you just play it off, saying that the filtered air in the ship was irritating your airway. 

It makes you curious though, is it possible that he may be able to sense your thoughts as well? If you concentrate really hard on one single idea, will he notice? It’s definitely worth a try, and you’re really bored right now. Hmmm, what about a...jetpack. Ok, no response from Din. What about...beskar. Oh, that’s a good idea! After five whole minutes of thinking solely about the metal there is still no response from Din. Ugh, fine. Your obviously imagining things. Typical. 

“What are you doing?” A voice echoes.

You let out a squeak, quickly cover it up as a cough, and then glare at the Mandalorian seated across from you. This time he’s looking right at you. 

Fine, two can play at this game. You keep a straight face and then will your voice to travel across the space between you and into his mind. “What are you doing?”

He just stares at you and you think maybe you are still imagining things. 

“Sigh.”

Oh no he did not. He did not just...just sigh at you through his mind! Why that little…

“Relax, you’re jumpy. And bored.” 

If looks could kill, he would be a pile of sizzling beskar right now. “It’s not my fault you’re boring.” You huff back. And without warning he’s laughing at you through the bond. Full-hearted, chest-rattling laughter, but without the ‘chest rattling’ you note dryly, as you glare even harder. 

“So that was you laughing at me earlier today! You are in so much trouble Din. Just wait until we land, we’re gonna fight this out like warriors and I’m gonna kick your ass.” That shuts him up and you are feeling quite smug about your comeback, basking in your victory for the space of a few seconds until something else starts tickling at your brain. 

It’s another voice, one that is slowly growing louder, but it seems...guarded. You nudge harder, eager to solve the mystery, and the answer becomes a little clearer. It’s a feeling, you realize, a powerful feeling. As you weave closer and closer, Din’s other thoughts attempt to sidetrack you, to distract you from your self-proclaimed mission. Just a little closer...

You don’t even notice that Din’s physical body has tensed up, his hands balling into fists, telltale signs of his nerves. More thoughts whiz by you, trying to knock you off your narrow path, but you’re persistent as you trudge forward. The feeling abruptly smacks into you like the rays of a thousand suns, blinding you, and you’re gasping, suddenly ashamed of your curiosity. 

“We’re here.” Fett’s voice rings through the hull, breaking your concentration for only a second, and you feel Din forcefully throw you out of his mind. He’s out of his seat in a second, making a beeline for the cockpit without throwing so much as a glance your way. You’re left to wallow in your seat as Cara and Fennec shoot you questioning glances, but you just shrug.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” You offer, choosing not to elaborate on what just took place. But your blood boils. You know exactly what happened. You just ripped away the most important barrier Mando possessed. The one that guarded his heart. 

The feeling you laid bare? 

Affection. 

You don’t even leave your seat as the others step outside to recruit Mayfeld. “Just wait until we land, we’re gonna fight this out like warriors and I’m gonna kick your ass.” You spoke those words to Din only moments ago. Now, after what you’ve done, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to look him in the face again, much less challenge him to a sparring match. 

It’s not until everyone but Din and Mayfeld re-enter the hull that you realize there are only four seats in the hold. You curse your bad luck, there’s no way you are gonna share a seat with any one of these clowns. Oh sweet springs of Tabet, if you remember correctly there’s an extra seat in the cockpit. Before anyone can question your behavior, you’re rushing towards the ladder that Fett is still scaling. With a little luck, he won’t question your presence, and you might even be able to learn a few maneuvers. 

~~

Din sucks in a breath as he enters the hold once again, just in time to catch a glimpse of your back as you disappear into the cockpit along with Fett. He scowls, if Fett wasn’t such a good man, Din would probably be jealous. He takes his seat once again, except this time instead of looking up and being rewarded with your face, he’s greeted with Mayfeld’s ugly mug. There’s no way this day could get any worse. 

It is only after everyone takes a seat that he remembers there are only four chairs in the hold. He curses himself over and over. He had already factored that into his original plan. The original idea was to invite you to share his seat with him after Mayfeld joined the crew. Then he would be able to bask in your closeness, your liveliness, for just a short time before his mind began to dissect the details of the mission.

He knows he hurt you earlier, unintentional as it may have been. He hadn’t meant to throw you out of his thoughts so quickly, but you scared him. If you had been allowed to peer into his emotions for just one more millisecond you might have seen his most closely guarded thoughts, the ones that keep him lying awake at night. 

Within the confines of his mind he often pictures you and him, the kid, and sometimes children of your own. In those fantasies he doesn’t hunt anymore, learns instead how to be a father and a husband, a family man. The intensity of his feelings frustrate him, and rightfully so. As a hunter and a Mandalorian, any emotion he feels can easily be turned into a deadly weapon. This situation involving the kid is a perfect example of how quickly his affection can twist into desperation.

~~

“I’ll go.” 

Those two words are all it takes for you to know that Din is absolutely desperate. Mayfeld blathers on, ridiculing Mando again, so you just shut his voice out. 

“Mando, I can go.” You speak up, fuming a little at the thought that he hasn’t yet offered you the mission. 

“No, it’s too dangerous for you.” He doesn’t even look at you properly, gazing instead towards the juggernaut that passes.

You pin the side of his helmet with a glare. Not wanting to start a scene in front of the others, you dare to brush delicately against his thoughts, and you want to cry in relief when he immediately let’s you in. 

“Din, I can go. Let me have this mission.”

“No, you barely made it out alive last time. Besides, the New Republic will recognize you.”

“I don’t care about the New Republic, it’s not like I currently hold a position of importance like Cara. I’ll be fine.”

“No, you’re not going. You haven’t even fully recovered, and there is no way you’re going if you’re not 100% combat ready.”

“You of all people should know better than to tell me what I can and cannot do. I will not, I repeat, I will not let you go in there and risk your Creed when I am perfectly capable of taking this mission!”

“My decision is final.” 

Then for the second time that day, he shuts you out. 

“You’re not going alone. I’m coming with you, but I won’t be showing my face.” Din announces aloud to the rest of your crewmates. 

You growl under your breath, furious with his decision. You want to scream at him, ask him what exactly he is thinking, but you know you can’t. You have never been able to change his mind. Instead, you resign yourself to your allotted role, begging the stars that nothing goes wrong even though you know that is a fool's hope. 

Once Mayfeld and Din are seated within the juggernaut, you and Boba prepare to split off from Fennec and Cara.

“We’ll head back to the ship while you two make your way to the ridge.” Boba Fett speaks up as he shoulders the canvas bag holding Din’s armor.

“Alright. I’ll inform you on when to begin your run.” Fennec responds. 

You exchange a glance with Cara, then move to follow Fett through the forest.  As you trudge back to the ship alongside Boba, numerous questions spring to mind. 

“Fett, you are a Mandalorian right?”

“You could say that.”

“Why is it that you can remove your helmet and go by your real name, but Mando can’t?”

“How do you know that Boba Fett is my real name?” He questions.

Well that shuts you up.

He continues on as if expecting that response. “Mandalore has a complicated history. Often the very people who call themselves Mandalorian are not even born on the planet itself. My ancestors believed that any man, woman, boy, or girl could imbue the spirit of a Mandalorian warrior, it didn’t matter who they were or where they were born. From what I can gather, your friend was not born on Mandalore either.”

“Well, I wouldn’t really call him a friend, but yes that’s true, he mentioned it once. That still doesn’t explain the helmet thing though.” You gesture to your face as you finish your sentence.

He takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose, as if he’s dealing with an overly inquisitive toddler. “The helmet thing is harder to explain.” A beat of silence passes. “Mandalorians live in clans, as groups of warriors that are bound together by a common name and a central ruler. The clans all support different beliefs, or Creeds, as they call them. The beliefs of one clan may be wildly different from that of another clan.”

That makes sense. There is a long tick of silence, and you’re certain he is finished so you ask the one remaining question that sits at the tip of your tongue. 

“What clan do you belong to?”

He obviously doesn’t expect that question. Surprise envelops his features, then it morphs into fondness. “I belong to Clan Fett.” Another pause. “Why, would you like to join?” It’s accompanied with a head tilt and a humorous tone. 

You just laugh. “I don’t know if I will qualify.” It’s freeing to let some humour slip into your tone after your recent argument with Din.

“Well, it seems like you already forgot the history lesson.” He chastises you, but he’s still smiling. “Now, let’s prepare to pick up these friends of yours.” He adds, as the ship becomes visible in the distance.

~~

Ending Notes: Originally this part was going to be much longer, but I made some changes to my original plot. I had also planned to end it on a more angsty note, but let’s be real, we want to avoid angst as much as possible. Part 2 is already written and will be coming soon, give me a follow if you don’t want to miss it!

[fullmetalscullyy]

if you're still accepting prompts, could you do "shh, it’s okay. it was just a dream"?

always, anon <3 and it's funny u should suggest that prompt bc i just wrote something for it a few weeks ago! and you can find it here, already on ao3

so now, u have two for the price of one :') that fic was a young!riza pov, so how about a post-canon roy pov this time? tysm for the prompt and the ask!!!

rated: t | words: 1819 | tags: nightmares, angst, hurt/comfort, post-canon, royai, promised day memories

read on ao3

Roy’s body jerked violently in his bed. His legs kicked outwards, shifting the sheet off of his searing skin and knocking it onto the floor. The cool night air blanketed his body instantly, trying, but ultimately failing, to ease his distress. His dream continued to linger painfully, jolting him upright into a seated position, causing both hands to land flat by his sides to maintain some semblance of balance while his head swung from left to right, searching the inky black stretching out before him. Roy saw nothing, which only made him panic even more.

Am I blind again?

The thought appeared unbidden in his mind. A part of him knew he wasn’t, but he was so disorientated and startled by his nightmare that he seriously considered it. He couldn’t go through that again, though. The dream couldn’t have been real. No, he couldn’t be blind. This couldn’t be happening again –

A light flicked on inside the room, making him pause for a second. He blinked, seeing his legs and the rest of his bed stretched out before him, reaching towards the pale blue wall.

He was in his bedroom, not sitting on cold, brown bricks, devoid of any comfort or warmth.

A dream… It was just a dream.

Roy exhaled sharply and took another deep breath, gulping down the air as reality slowly started to trickle back to him. The second exhale left him at a slower pace, but it still rattled passed his lips as he tried to stop terror from constricting his heart painfully. Heat flashed across his brow and chest and that’s when Roy noticed the sweat. He was drenched in it, courtesy of the fear that still lingered inside of him.

“Roy?”

The voice was quiet and thick with sleep as she called to him. At first it was surprised, but then instantly alert. Not that Roy could focus on anything outside of the horrifying images – and also memories – still in his mind’s eye, but if he could, he’d have noticed the mattress shift next to him and dip as she sat up immediately, eyeing him with concern.

She had surely caught onto what had happened. To what had made him react so badly in the middle of the night. Roy knew he must have looked a state, and that was what had probably given him away, but he didn’t care, because she was okay. She hadn’t been hurt. She wasn’t dead. They were both safe in his apartment together, out of harm’s way and far away from any kind of danger.

Roy slumped back against his pillows and draped an arm across his eyes. His chest was still heaving with his breath while he struggled to get it under control and wetness seeped out from beneath his lids, dampening the skin of his forearm and wrist. The tears had followed him from his dream to a conscious state and Roy clamped his eyelids closed tightly, willing them to stop so he could try and get a handle on his emotions.

Shame flushed through him. Not because someone was there to witness his struggle, for he would lay himself bare for her without question. It was because he’d fallen for a trap. It had been a trick by the enemy. Even if it was a dream, it had cost him dearly, and his Lieutenant had paid the price for his failings. It had caused turmoil and upset to follow him to his waking sate, affecting him so deeply that when he awoke, he still couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t. The vividness of it had left him completely stricken.

His Lieutenant had almost died on him before, all those years ago, and his mind had decided to make him relive it, out of the blue, exaggerating all that happened and making it so much worse.

Nightmares were like old friends to Roy, but they were still a struggle. They never really got any easier to deal with or experience. Especially when they were as intense as this one had been. Especially when they involved her dying, either in his arms because he was too late, or while he was restrained by the enemy, unable to comfort her, get help for her, or save her.

Those were the worst ones.

A palm was placed gently atop his head. He flinched at the unexpected contact and his body tensed. Then, fingers came to rest upon his scalp gently and a thumb stroked over his forehead, right between his eyebrows. It moved repeatedly in a calming motion, relaxing his tightly wound muscles, and causing his mind to falter and trip at its racing speed once or twice.

Her touch brought him back down to earth.

“Shh,” she soothed him, “it's okay. It was just a dream.”

Her comfort was incredibly welcoming as her hands combed through his damp hair without protest or complaint. He could feel it clinging uncomfortably to his face and the back of his neck, but Riza freed him from it. The wet strands were pushed away from his cheeks and ears, making him sigh quietly as he started to feel some relief. Her voice was heaven-sent in that moment of strife for him. A buoy in raging waves; something to cling on to so he could survive and get his bearings. It was like a light rain falling over embers of pain of sorrow, washing them away like a salve being applied atop the charred ground.

She was his rescuer from the darkest confines of his own mind.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Her question was incredibly quiet, so she didn’t startle him.

Always so incredibly perceptive and considerate of others.

Roy shook his head and let out a shaky breath. If he opened his mouth his voice would break. He wasn’t ready to reveal all. He would happily tell Riza Hawkeye everything, but he couldn’t just yet. Not when he’d failed her. Again. Not when his mind was happily reminding him of that fact.

Shame flushed through him once more like an unforgiving storm surge.

“Take your time,” she announced emphatically. “I’m right here.”

And that’s all Roy ever needed.

He rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around her waist. Riza had sat up in bed and remained there, watching over him as he tried to calm himself. His face was buried into her stomach as desperate hands clung to the shirt on her back. Riza placed both hands atop his head and stilled, letting him get comfortable before she moved them again. They continued to comb through his hair soothingly, offering a comfort only she could ever give him.

“It was a nightmare,” he mumbled against her. “Promised Day.”

Riza’s hands stilled for a second after his reveal, then continued their ministrations.

“I see.”

Roy nodded against her. They were well aware of how each other had struggled while sleeping in the aftermath of that day.

“It was…” He took a deep breath. “You,” he exhaled, as if that would answer all of her questions at once. And Roy knew it would. “What happened to you that day. And I… I was stuck. I couldn’t do anything –” Roy snapped his mouth shut, remembering seeing the light leave her eyes so clearly inside his nightmare, like a safety beacon that had winked out, leaving only darkness, despair, and horror in its wake.

“It’s okay,” she reassured. Her tone said it all. She sounded pained, knowing exactly how he’d suffered because his poor, broken, explanation had been enough for her to conclude what he’d seen in his dream.

“I was too late,” he whispered. It sounded deafening in the quiet of his bedroom.

Riza was silent as she continued to run her hands through his hair. She didn’t comment, but in some way that was worse. Roy scrunched his eyes up tightly for a few seconds before relaxing, pulling away from her.

He’d failed her again.

He didn’t get to retreat far, though. Riza’s hands followed his movements to the letter, anticipating them perfectly, moving from being buried within his hair to cupping his cheeks. She gently guided his face upwards, so it was finally facing her. Finally looking her in the eye. Fear licked around his stomach, twisting it, suddenly afraid of judgement for his lack of support. It was irrational – Riza Hawkeye would never do such a thing – but he was still shaken and distraught.

What Roy found made his breath catch. Her smile was small and soft. It was so her – nothing too flashy, but reserved and fiercely loving, just like the look in her eyes. It was a smile she saved only for him.

His breath hitched again.

“You weren’t too late, remember?” Her head shook from side to side slowly as she attempted to dispel his anxiety. Her hands dropped and latched onto one of his, guiding it upwards so it now rested over her beating heart.

The feeling was strong beneath his scarred palms, thumping inside of her with such strength – the same attitude she embodied every day in everything she did. Steady, dependable, and courageous.

“Like always, I’m right here. I’m never going anywhere.”

Roy leaned forwards quickly, overcome with impulse, and claimed her lips with his own. A hand buried into her short hair, cupping the back of her neck tenderly as he kissed her with such reverence and adoration.

“Thank you,” he breathed. His hand shifted on her chest to become more comfortable when his fingers bumped into and grazed over something solid and misshapen underneath her shirt.

Roy blinked, then slowly smiled knowingly. Riza returned it, realising what he’d discovered, but she also looked pleased his heartache had been banished and eased for a brief second.

It was the wedding ring he’d given her years ago, attached to her dog tags. The one that was identical to his own.

It was a reminder that they were tied together completely, and always would be. They’d set themselves on a path they could not deviate from, it was absolute, and they must succeed, but they’d do it together. They would remain as one throughout it all.

Their foreheads tipped together, coming to rest quietly against one another and Roy focussed on the sound of her breathing and the feeling of the ring. He tethered himself to them both, slowing his own breaths to match hers.

She was right there by his side, like she always was and had promised she'd be, so long ago. The odds had almost pulled them apart once before but hadn’t succeeded. Roy wouldn’t let his dreams get the better of him either. There were always demons to fight, but Roy was thankful he had her watching over him, and vice versa. There was no one else in the world he’d trust to watch his back. And they’d fight them all together, side by side. Unyielding and relentless.

[saint-cichol-is-watching]

Their reactions to you breaking up with them // Part One

LUCIFER // BEELZEBUB // BELPHEGOR // DIAVOLO // SIMEON

Part Two (Mammon/Leviathan/Satan/Asmodeus/Barbatos) will come later this week ! It was supposed to come out with everyone else but I just wasn’t satisfied with some (cough Satan cough Barbatos) so I decided to split it into two parts and release the second one later ! ☺️

This idea suddenly popped in the middle of the night into my mind and I can’t ignore it so bear with me.

(Also sorry for the angst if you aren’t new here you should be used to it by now)

Fun fact I’m actually writing this while listening to ‘Left & RIght’ by SVT and let me tell you this does not fit the vibe at all, but it works lmao

MASTERLIST

NB: This is all made under the assumption that the boys love and respect you enough not to kill you right on the spot of course and that they’re not crazy enough (at least not anymore) to lock you up in i don’t know an attic for example

+ Also this goes without saying that most of these if not all are not “we should stay friends” kind of breakup, it’s more of a “it doesn’t work anymore we should stop seeing each other” kind of breakup.

(Sorry for the delay I got a bit sick yesterday and couldn’t find enough strengh to open my computer and actually concentrate)

—

The one who acted like it doesn’t affect him in any way.

He gave you his everything and that’s what you gave back to him? How preposturous!

He was mad. 

But he refused to show it. His pride and ego were so important to him and to him at the moment they were the only thing he could still salvage from this humiliation.

Which is why everytime he saw you afterwards, he looked at you for a milisecond before scoffing and averting his eyes before walking away from the room, his head held up high to the point it hurted his neck.

But the fact that he tried to stay proud didn’t mean breaking up with you didn’t hurt.

Because it did. And he hated every part of this.

You probably surprised him once or twice at night in the music room lazily playing a few notes on the piano with a glass of wine as his only company. 

Muttering words that you couldn’t quite understand without having to get closer, but you could feel each and everyone of them dripping with bitterness and pain.

After all of this Lucifer wanted to hate you, he truly did. But he couldn’t, and it was absolutely infuriating to him. 

He, Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride, one of the most powerful demons in the entire Devildom, the right-hand-man to the prince himself, fell in love with a mere weak human. And yet he was the only one left suffering. 

How humiliating.

Beel was actually surprised by how much it didn’t hurt.

A break up is normally painful, but appart from a little pinch in his heart  his body was completely numb to the pain.

So he didn’t try to fight it. He simply accepted it and watched you walk away. After all your happiness was always his first priority and it didn’t hurt that much so it was okay... right?

But over the days you, along with the other brothers noticed a slight change in Beel’s behavior. 

Which from his perspective was coincidental with the pain from his heart spreading more and more inside of him.

It started with a lack of appetite which, coming from him, was worrying of course but you all assumed it was his way of “coping” and that he would be back eating in no time.

But it didn’t happen like that. The lack of appetite was suddenly added to a tighter grip on things. At some points you had all lost track of the times you walked on Beel staring intensely at a doorknob that he accidentally ripped off its handles.

Then it escalated. It wasn’t object he was unconsciously hurting it was now other people as well, slapping their hand away or bumping into them hard.

Until one day he found himself into a fight with a lesser demon that to your knowledge hadn’t done anything to set him off. It took the the combined strenght of Lucifer, Mammon and Belphegor to get Beel off the demon. 

And it took him one glance your direction to stop fighting his brothers. He saw you look at him as if you didn’t recognize him, as if you were wondering where was the Beel you knew, the one who was kind and loving. And he started crying. 

The numbness of his body was finally wearing off to reveal all of the pain it had been hiding.

Probably the messiest breakup since first he just refuses to even aknowledge what you said.

You saved his life. He was living a life filled with hatred and despair since Lilith’s death and you came in, and while things happened that he is definitely not proud of, your forgave him and gave him a new chance at life where he could have fun with you and everybody else.

He had been latching onto you since that day, his only goal in life was you. You were his life line.

That’s why he refused to break up. That’s why he said “no” as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

You tried to tell him that’s it’s not his choice but he wouldn’t hear it. He was not going to let you go. 

A big fight exploded between you two, so vehement that some of the brothers who heard the ruckus rushed over to see what was wrong.

After a while they managed to cool you down and you finally got a look at his face. And you saw nothing but pain. 

With his emotions exposed like that in front you and everybody else Belphegor got really embarrassed, cursed under his breath under his breath and then turn around to run away. Far from you.

Not knowing what to do he somehow found his way back in the attic where he stayed on his own accord this time. He stayed there day and night refusing to go out. Afraid that he was going to see you again.

At that moment he didn’t hate humans as much as he did before he met you, but now after what you had said he couldn’t help but let a newfound yet familiar grudge grow inside him once again. He didn’t want to trust humans anymore. 

Probably and surprisingly the most crushed out of all of them. 

You. Out of all people, you were abandoning him.

You were the most intimate and the closest relationship he ever had. You were his entire world, he gave you everything he could give. This man almost worshipped you for loving him. And you were pulling away from him ?

All you see in his face is utter disbelief... And pain.

He doesn’t say a word, his knees simply give out and without ever breaking eye contact with you he crashes on the floor. 

When you decided walk away, he continued to look at you until you truly disappeared.

Afterwards, in public, he acted like he always did, he had this happy persona for more than a thousand years he knew how to make it look like he was feeling alright.

But you noticed. Because he avoided every plausible contact with you. He acted like you weren’t part of his world anymore because he knew that if he did so much as to look at you his smile would immediately falter. 

He wanted you back. Nobody could have wanted someone back more than he wanted you. You were the first person whom he ever loved and the first person who ever truly loved him back. 

He always thought he lived a life only filled with solitude until you single-handledly showed him that he wasn’t alone as he thought. Until you told him that with you by his side he would never feel alone anymore.

He thought about bringing you back by force, using his privileges as the Devildom Prince and only ruler to get you to fulfill the promise that you made to him. 

He actually nearly made it happen. 

But was advised by both Lucifer and Barbatos that it would be a bad idea and, while he did it reluctantly, he ultimately agreed. 

But he never felt so alone.

Surprisingly Simeon was the one who had the most trouble understanding why you wanted to break it off.

The only thoughts running thorugh his mind at the moment were : “What happened ? What did he do wrong?”

He was always so careful with you, so romantic, so understanding, so... perfect. 

There was no other word, he was a perfect boyfriend. He always did what he thought was right. He always treated you right. So why did you break up with him?

Simeon was a smart man, he wrote countless times about love too but he truly couldn’t comprehend the fact you wanted to end your relationship.

He thought was you had was so special, he was in love with you. Every moment that he spent with you was precious to him. 

And he couldn’t get around the fact that you didn’t feel the same anymore.

But he did let you go though.

Without asking any questions or giving much of a fight because even there he wanted to put your feelings first.

He didn’t even cry, nor complained. He just caressed your cheek one last time with his long fingers, making sure to remember the softness of your skin and the shape of your jaw. 

He looked at every detail of your face and he memorized them all knowing it would be the last time he would ever be allowed to be so close to you.

Then he layed his lips on your forehead for the last kiss he could give you and whispered, his voice trembling, so slightly that you barely even noticed it :

“If that’s what you want”

The first time he saw you again afterward he tried to make his way to you to talk with you as if you were back to friends. but as soon as he saw you shifting awkwardly while you looked at him he stopped in his tracks, gave you a small smile and turned around. 

Once again putting your feelings first.

[gainaxvel3o]

I’ve been obsessed with this prompt from Reddit for months now and I can’t stand it any longer. Unfortunately the thread is archived so I can’t answer it there buuuut I’m gonna put it for no reason other than I want to. Strap yourselves in. Spoilers for RWBY and Fate/Stay Night.

Archer is a future version of Shirou Emiya, the protagonist of Fate/Stay Night, summoned by Rin Tohsaka to participate in the Fifth Holy Grail War. He’s incapacitated in two of the visual novel’s routes, but Unlimited Blade Works delves the most into his character. It’s revealed that in his timeline he made a pact with Alaya to become a Counter Guardian, sent to exterminate any threats to the world, never to know peace. Shirou had always wanted to be a hero, but the experience of suffering again and again, killing the few to save the many, left him embittered. His ultimate plan once he’s summoned is to kill his past self so he could potentially be free from his fate.

Each of the game’s routes has Shirou come to grips between his dream, his obsession, of becoming a hero and the reality of what it might entail, with Archer showing a potential path where he never questioned his beliefs and suffered greatly as a result. Archer is there primarily to open Shirou’s mind, whether it’s directly confronting him in the UBW route, or getting him to see Saber’s pain more clearly in the FATE route, etc. Archer fits as a foil to Shirou and the themes of Fate/Stay Night.

Obviously we can’t transplant all of that onto Ruby. She isn’t obsessed with being a hero like Shirou was, nor is she the kind of person to think slaughtering the few to save the many is a good idea. That’s not really what she’s about. At her core, Ruby is a girl who wants to make the world a better place. She became a huntress, fought alongside her friends, stood up to villains, because Ruby’s a simple soul who wants to help. Even her silver eyes are tied to her being, powered by the love in her heart rather than a need to destroy evil. In a sense, Ruby is arguably more selfless than Shirou, because her heroism comes less from wanting a sense of fulfillment, but of a belief in that life itself is worth preserving.

But that can come with it’s own drawbacks.

Throughout the series, Ruby has basically been a stable rock that keeps the others together. Because of that Ruby probably bottles up her own feelings to keep the others sane. Sooner or later that’s bound to blow up at some point. It’s entirely possible to see a scenario where Ruby, disappointed with her lack of progress, with how many people she couldn’t save, with all the people she cares about dying or losing themselves to despair, might start to get bitter... maybe the pressures of leadership are too much to bear. Maybe she gives in and decides to screw it all.

The primary theme of RWBY is that of unity, of strength in numbers. Humanity has been able to fend off the Grimm by working together. Aside from Cinder’s group, most of the major antagonists like Roman, Raven, Adam, Lionheart, or even minor ones that we don’t even see like the long deceased owner of the Branswick farms, are people to decide to put their own personal ambitions over the greater good. Either they faced hardships that led them to screw others over, or they were cowards, or were just simply cutting corners because they wanted a pacified citizenship. Ruby’s Archer counterpart would logically be a different Ruby, or someone like Ruby, who wasn’t able to keep hope alive. She didn’t have the determination to keep going, so she gave up and looked out for herself.

An Archer counterpart means confronting a version of you that’s been through life and came out the other side a jaded, cynical adult who thinks you’re stupid. Your dreams led to a bad end for you, you should have never tried, everyone was right to mock you. Maybe you should have never tried to save anyone. Maybe you should save yourself. Or just die and let the realists handle the problem.

But that’s not how either series works does it?

Shirou is not able to physically overcome Archer, but he gets through to him by having the stronger will. He proves to Archer that he’ll never fall down the same path, by accepting his words but proving he can go beyond them, that he can live without regret. Ruby isn’t going to give up either. She’ll fall, probably make mistakes, but she gets back up and keeps running. The true strength of a hero is what happens when their convictions are tested. 

I’m sure that if Ruby ever faced her own Archer, she’d feel sorry for them. Maybe Ruby reignites their dreams, showing a way they can help even if it’s hard. Maybe together they’ll be able to save the world.

[yer-cute-when-you-scream]

Prince Jackson Wang~ Royal!AU

WARNINGS: Narcissistic Parent, Angst, Fluff, Jackson Being A Brat, TW Violence. (I’m probably forgetting something)

A/N: Don’t ask me why this one is so long, I couldn’t stop writing for this one haha, although I feel like it could be better. I hope y’all enjoy it!

Prince Jackson was snobby, conceited, and arrogant.

Prince Jackson is brave, wise, and gentle.

He thought he was the best, and he only cared about himself.

But he humbled himself, and he is more caring towards his people now.

His mother was a very gentle woman, and she was able to keep the King from neglecting the Kingdom.  

She wanted to teach Jackson how important it was to be kind and considerate.

Unfortunately, the Queen had died when Jackson was a child, leaving him to be raised by an egotisical man.  

His father had spoiled him and imprinted a God-like complex in his mind.

He had made Jackson think that he was above everyone else, even their own people.

Jackson had grown up watching his father push around their servants and thought it was okay.

The King didn’t care for the Kingdom, even though there was a rising in crime.

The King let the Kingdom come to despair when the Queen died, for he did not care.

The King was obsessed with war and being the best, so Jackson was taught how to fence, handle a sword, spar, etc.

Jackson is very strong because of this; he can handle himself very well.

Fortunately, Jackson had never fought in a war, for others had managed to steer clear of his father.

The way Jackson was raised is something he is ashamed of, even if he is no longer the man he once was.  

He changed a lot of his ways after getting his portrait painted by you.

Crime, poverty, and pain was something his Kingdom no longer had to suffer.

When you had been requested to paint a portrait for the Prince, you were nervous. You had always wondered what the Prince was like. Was he noble and sensitive? Or was he just like the King?  

You had silently hoped it was not the latter, but to your displeasure, it was, you could tell he didn’t care about anyone except himself.  

As you sit on a stool with a canvas in front of you, Prince Jackson sat proudly on a throne encrusted with jewels, you would’ve thought he was so dreamy...if he didn't have an annoyed look on his face.  

“How much longer is this going to take?” he asks you, the insolent tone in his voice had you irritated. “Well, if you would have quit moving and just shut up, I would’ve been done by now.”  

Jackson looked taken back by your words, it was clear no one had ever talked to him like that before. He squinted his eyes towards you as your paintbrush softly glided on the canvas, “Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?” he scoffed, “I am the Prince, and you will treat me with respect.”  

You put the paintbrush down and stood up in a huff, “Respect, huh?” you begin while taking your art smock off, “You don’t even care, let alone respect your own people. Do you even understand what we all must go through while you live carefree up in that palace? No, you don’t, you’re just a spoiled brat who only cares about himself. Don’t you dare talk to me about respect, your Highness.”  

You felt your blood boil as venom dripped from your words. You threw your smock over the stool and began walking towards the door, Jackson furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to process everything and quickly stood from the throne, “Where are you going?” he asks confused.  

“I have been painting you for hours, I am hungry. You can either wait here for me or come back later,” you sighed.  

Jackson followed you out the door but turned and started walking back to the palace.  

The rest of the day your words replayed through Jackson’s mind, it distracted Jackson and made him mess up a few times while sparring. He felt guilty, no one had ever scolded him like that, he began questioning himself.  

Was he truly so self-absorbed that he didn’t see how much their people were in need?  

Why would his father tell him to not worry about the Kingdom?  

He decided he needed to talk to you, so the next day he readied himself and started walking to your art studio, as he started walking up the few steps that lead to your door, he heard a noise coming from one of the alleys.  

Curiosity got the best of him and he went to investigate, when he turned the corner, his eyes grew big. Some man had you cornered and was trying to rob you, “Come on, I know you have money, I saw the Prince leave your workshop yesterday, he must have paid you.”  

“Please, I don’t want any trouble! Just let me leave!” you pleaded while slowly trying to move past him, you felt very intimidated by the man and knew that you were going to be beaten, if not killed, if you didn’t get out of there.  

The man harshly grabbed your arm and slammed you against the wall, “You’re not going anywhere,” he growled and raised his fist.  

You closed your eyes and braced yourself for the impact about to come but instead heard a grunt from him, you opened your eyes and see Prince Jackson fighting with the man, Jackson was dodging swings and skillfully landing his own, the man knew it was a losing fight, so he quickly took off.  

Jackson wasn’t even panting, but his heart was definitely racing; along with yours. You stood there bewildered about the entire situation, “Are you okay?” he concerningly asks you.  

You simply nod, “Thank you,” you softly let out.  

“Can we talk?”  

You agree and lead him into the Tavern you often go to, you ask the Tavern Keeper, Martha to bring out two orders of your usual and then sit at a table in the corner. Jackson looked tense; it was his first time in a place like this.  

“What did you want to talk about?” you asked curiously, you could see something in his eyes but couldn’t make it out.  

“I don’t know anything about what goes on in the Kingdom, my father had told me to not mind anything that happens to our people. Please, tell me what is going on, I need to know.”  

You were taken back, he sounded sincere. He was no longer sitting proudly like he was the day before; and you could see what was in his eyes now, it was remorse.  

“Well...as you saw before, crime is the biggest one, a lot of people have lost their home or their shop because they were robbed, trade caravans have stopped visiting here because they’re afraid, so we can’t even trade,” Jackson intensely listened as you explained, mentally taking notes of it. “Poverty is the second one, but I’m sure you can guess why. Everyone is in pain; people have died because they were too poor to afford food or medicine when they were sick,” you tell him with a heavy heart.  

Jackson, who was clearly upset, grabbed your hand from across the table and held it in his own, his eyes locking with yours, “I promise you, I will do everything I can to make things right.”  

Before you could respond, a servant had walked up with two plates, you pull your hand back and thank her as she places the plates down, then she quickly excuses herself to let you eat.  

Jackson curiously looks at the food, he was so used to extravagant meals and wasn’t sure if he would like the food in front of him, “Just try one bite, if you don’t like it, I will gladly eat it,” you chuckle at the last bit.  

He grabs his fork and takes a bite, he was delightfully surprised at how amazing the food was, it was enough for him to start devouring the meal, leaving his taste buds satisfied, “That was incredible, I’ve never had something so flavorful before!”  

Martha walked over to you both and you smiled, “Hi Martha! How are things?” you greet her as you pull out a few coins for the meal. Her smile was sorrowful as she stopped you, “It’s on the house, consider it a ‘farewell’ gift,” she informs you, you could hear the pain in her voice, as well as Jackson.  

“What do you mean?”  

“I’m going to lose this place tomorrow because I can’t pay it off.”  

You furrowed your brows, “But you told me the other day you were about to fully pay off this place?” you reminded her, not wanting to hear what she was about to say.  

“I was, until someone broke in last night and stole all of my money. I can’t make it all back in a day, it took me months to save it all up. I have no choice but to go back to my parent’s farm,” she explained with her head hung low. You stood up and hugged your friend tightly, “I am going to miss you so much. I’ll visit you tomorrow before you leave.”  

Suddenly, something hit the table with a small thud, you both look and see that Jackson had pulled out his coin pouch, “Will this be enough, or do you need more?” Jackson asked with a serious tone.  

Martha realized who he was and stood there in shock, trying to find words before giving up and nodding. “Okay, wonderful! I would’ve hated to see my new favorite place to eat go so quickly,” he tells her with a smile.  

Jackson took the throne as the rightful King very quickly and kept his word, crime vanished almost overnight, people had their homes and shops back, and trading caravans started visiting the Kingdom again.  

Everything was as it should be.  

Jackson had invited you to the castle to help him make decisions regarding the Kingdom, it wasn’t long until you both fell in love with each other. He loves you and always aims to be a better person because of you.  

The portrait of Prince King Jackson hung in the great hall; showing a man who truly is the best.  

[pro-fangirls-unsocial-life]

Welcome Home.

A/N: So I accidentally wrote this fic in discord while talking with @captainrexisboo and thought I’d post it here as well!! I know that the timeline is off with Kix, but I don’t care. Its my fic and I get to decide what the rules are lmao. Anyways, this is what I think would happen if Kix and Rex met in the rebellion. I hope you enjoy! (Also wow. Two fics in two days look at me go after like a month of not posting anything)

Length: ~1800

Warnings. ANGST. Feeling hopeless. Self loathing. Very much a hurt/comfort thing.

It had been three months since Kix had been woken up. The Empire now raged across the galaxy and Kix’s newfound reality now raged throughout his mind, never giving him a moment of rest.

 After three months of being trapped in a tiny ship, the rebellion had decided that Kix was to be brought to the base on Yavin 4. For what, he had no idea, but now that he’s here, he thought it best not to dwell on what awaits him once he reaches his destination within the main building.

 Walking down the halls, he feels a sense of dread at having stares thrown his way by those who remember the clone wars. All of them are older now. All of them know what he did.

The rebel scavenger who found him keeps leading him deeper into the base until they stop in front of the door leading to General Syndulla's quarters. He had been told that this would be who he was being brought to.

 The door whooshes open to reveal Hera, a soft smile gracing her features. "Trooper?"

 "Yes general?"

 "Follow me.”

 Hera looks to the man who had been escorting Kix. "You are dismissed Private."

 With that, she turns, leading him through even more dimly lit hallways, not speaking a word but still keeping a smile on her features.

 They walk like that for a while, Kix having no idea as to where he is being taken. "Do they want to question me? Torture me for information? Make me go undercover for them in the Empire? What use could I be to them?"

 Finally, as they round a corner, his curiosity gets the better of him. "General?"

 Hera stops in front of a large door. "Yes?”

 "Forgive me, but… where are we going? What do you all want from me? I'm no use to anyone anymore."

 Hera smiles and gestures to the door, laying her hand on the panel to open it. She chuckles, placing her other hand on the shoulder of the man in front of her. "All of your questions will be answered Trooper. I promise. But there was someone who wanted to see you first." She presses a button and the door quickly opens, revealing a large room with a briefing table lit up in the center.

 Kix steps inside, looking around and seeing that it’s empty, all except for one person who hurriedly stands from the chair he was just occupying. He is worrying something in his hand but does not move toward Kix.

 "I'll leave you two to catch up," Hera says, closing the door as she turns away.

 Kix looks back at the man, now studying his features. He has deep brown eyes like Kix does and the same general face shape. He's older, bald and sporting a fluffy white beard that covers his face, almost mirroring the one that Kix had grown against his will after all these years. Only, as he looks closer, he can see that it just covers a small scar that runs over the man’s chin.

 Suddenly, his heart drops to his feet. No. This isn't possible. He was the only clone left who wasn't being used by the Empire. He was the only one left who truly knew what had happened. This can’t be real.

 "Rex?" His voice squeaks out in a barely audible whisper as tears threaten to fall from his eyes.

 This has to be a trick. He had already shed his tears, had already mourned all of the lives that he had failed to save. He had already come to terms with his new hopeless reality. This couldn't be real. What would he do if it was?

 What would he do if it wasn't?

 If he allowed himself to believe that the man in front of him was really Rex, but it was just another lie he was being fed by the cruel mistress of fate, it would break him. He could not handle having his spirit broken once more when he had only just begun piecing it back together after so much time being broken.

 No. He would not allow himself to be tricked like this. He attempted to stomp out the small spark of hope that seeing this man had ignited within him. He would no longer be a pawn, an entertainment for those who gained joy from the suffering of others. He couldn't do it again. Not again.

 The man sharply took in a breath at the utterance of the name from Kix's lips and took a small step forward, his hands stopping their movement in front of him. "Kix," he breaths out. His shoulders sag, the tension he was previously holding disappearing as if he had just taken his first breath of peace after escaping a never-ending journey of despair.

 He walked forward, quickening his pace with each step. Kix flinched away, taking two steps back and moving his hand to his hip to grab at a blaster that was not there.

 The man stopped, a questioning pain coming across his features. "Kix?" His voice cracks as he says the name. Almost as if it hurts to say.

 "Don't," Kix snaps out with as much force as he can muster. He feels the tears as they begin cascading down his face. Flowing without any end in sight as Kix's damn keeping them in place shatters at hearing his name from an all too familiar memory. "I won't be tricked by this. Not again."

 "Kix..." The man takes two steps forward, gesturing between the two of them. "It's me. It's Rex. Your Captain."

 "No!" Kix steps back again, shaking his head as he tries to put as much distance between himself and the ghost in front of him as possible. "My Captain, my brother, is dead. All of my brothers are dead." His breathing begins to speed up and his heart breaks as he spits his venom at the image of the man he once trusted more than anyone else in the universe. "My brothers are dead," he quietly chokes out. "And it's all my fault."

 The man stares at him, his eyes tearing up and his heart aching at hearing Kix's words.

 "It's all my fault," he chokes out again. "If I had been faster - if I had been good enough- none of this, the Empire, the Jedi, the death; none of it would have ever happened." He drops to his knees, holding his head in his hands as his tears continue to pool onto the cold stone floor. "I failed you Captain. I failed Fives. I failed Jesse.” A piercing sob tore through him. “All of this happened because of me."

 There is no movement, not a single sound echoing throughout the room except the strangled cries of the still young man. And with each passing second, he can feel his resolve crumbling, until it has completely disappeared.

 He sniffles, his tears still not slowing as they fall from his face onto the floor. "I don't care if your real or not... I wish that you were though.” He pauses. “Just... Just so I can tell Rex that I'm sorry. I'm- I'm so sorry for letting you down. For causing so much pain." He clenches his fists, feeling his nails dig into his palms until he feels them cut into his hand and draw blood. "For killing so many of our brothers."

 For a moment, neither man moves, both keeping their eyes trained on the floor until the sound of boots echo throughout the room, accompanying the lonesome sobs of a defeated young man. They stop in front of Kix and squeak as the man who wears them kneels down to Kix's level.

 He gently places his hand on Kix's shoulder, briefly stopping when Kix flinches away before letting his hand travel to the back of Kix's neck. He leans forward, guiding Kix toward him until their foreheads touch. "It's not your fault Kix."

 Kix slowly draws himself back, looking up at the man with red eyes and a tear-stained face, finding a pained stare looking back at him. He searches the eyes of the older man, seeing nothing but kindness and sincerity in his gaze. "Rex?" His broken voice comes out as a whimper, only loud enough for the man in front of him to just barely hear it.

 The man nods, a small smile coming across his face, conflicting with the tear-stained cheeks it moves with. "It's me, vod. It's me."

 "Rex!" Kix cries out as he lunges forward, tightly wrapping his arms around Rex and pulling him as close as he can, feeling Rex do the same thing. Sobbing into his shoulder as his walls come crashing down and the small spark of hope he failed to extinguish ignites the long dormant fire within him once again. "I'm so sorry, vod. I tried. I tried so hard to make everything right. I tried so hard to save all of you." His tears have already made a wet spot on Rex's shirt and his breath comes out in huffs as he breaks down in his brother’s arms. "I'm so sorry Rex. I'm so sorry."

 Rex tightly squeezes his brother, not ever wanting to let him go. "No, Kix. You have nothing to be sorry for." His own tears return, falling onto Kix's back as the other continues sobbing into his shoulder. "You did everything you could and you would have made it if I had just listened to Fives sooner." The younger man shakes as his cries continue and Rex begins to rub small, soothing circles on his back, rocking them back and forth where they are curled up on the floor. "It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault." He whispers the phrase, over and over and over, until Kix stops shaking and his breathing has evened out against his shoulder.

 Pulling back, Rex smiles as he is finally given a moment to look over the face of his little brother after so many years. His eyes are red and puffy, and there are tears that make his cheeks shine, but it is Kix. The same brave, kind Kix that he once knew. "I see you've copied my beard," he joked, reaching his hand up to stroke at the hair on his face.

 Kix laughs, wiping at his nose as he takes a deep breath to try and calm down. "Believe me, it will be the first thing to go once I get my hands on a razor."

 Rex chuckles, bringing his hand up to cup the back of Kix's neck and guide him forward until their foreheads are touching once again.

 Kix closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath. "I missed you vod. It's- It's been so long--" His words are cut short by Rex dragging him into a tight hug, fisting the fabric of Kix's shirt so tight that his knuckles turn white.

 He takes a deep breath, grabbing onto Rex's shirt in the same way, never wanting to let go.

 "Welcome home, vod," he hears in his ear. "Welcome home."

[adarlingsnightmare]

Osamu Dazai Yandere Alphabet

this was requested by a lot of people and i wrote it awhile ago but am only posting it now bc i spent way too much time fussing over whether it was any good lol.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

One word: smothering. Dazai's idea of affection involves robbing you of your privacy and getting in your personal space as much as possible. He doesn't even care if you're not comfortable with it, so for anyone who doesn't like being touched, he's an absolute nightmare to be with. He especially likes to wrap his arms around your shoulders from behind and stand like that for as long as possible.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

As messy as necessary! He's more likely to get messy with you than with rivals, though. He is a sadist, but now that he has his precious darling this is all directed towards you, meaning his rivals get fairly swift deaths if Dazai does decide they need to die.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

As previously mentioned, Dazai is a sadist, and therefore loves to cause his darling pain whether that be physical or emotional. Despite this, he can act sweet and loving too, especially if you're not resistant. He does occasionally mock you, but it's not his main tactic of hurting you.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?

Yes, definitely. His darling's wants and needs are completely meaningless to him. To his darling, he may even seem oblivious, but the truth is he just doesn't care. You said you don't want him to spike your drink? Oh, well that's just too bad.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Surprisingly, Dazai will actually be himself around his darling, rather than putting on a persona. He believes that since he loves you, you should know his true self. You're the only person in the world who will ever get to see the real Dazai, though that isn't necessarily a good thing. Don't get excited though, this doesn't mean he is vulnerable, in fact he is probably worse now he doesn't have to restrain himself.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Mostly amused. A part of Dazai enjoys someone who fights back and won't give in easily, in fact you could even argue he is somewhat masochistic since he gets rather excited by your anger towards him.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Certainly. Dazai is fascinated by human behaviour and watching you react to various torture and situations is his form of entertainment. He may eventually get irritated if you are constantly trying to escape, but he somewhat admires your resilience.

Hell: What would be their darling's worst experience with them?

Honestly, the whole experience is a nightmare because there is no chance of a good ending. Dazai can't be reasoned with, there are no compromises and it is guaranteed to end in tragedy. No matter how strong or smart you are, you can't escape. The best ending is for Dazai to kill you, because at least then your suffering will be over.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Dazai never expected to live this long, so he's never bothered thinking about the future before, even when it comes to his darling. However, if it came down to it, he'd probably want something similar to the 'typical' married life: a house, loving partner and maybe some kids. He wants to feel more human and he figures acting like everyone else is a good start. Although, despite these fantasies, Dazai will never actually be able to live this life due to who he is.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Oh, Dazai is the definition of jealous. He can't even handle the prospect of you thinking about someone else, let alone anything like actually talking to them. He has to be the centre of your world or he will literally go insane. He's not a hothead like Chuuya, so aside from a very tight grip on you and a dark glare, his jealousy won't be noticeable immediately. However, that's not to say he won't do anything about the situation — scheming on how he can ruin this persons life and if they really don't get the message, he supposes he'll just have to show them what happens to vermin who steal his darling's attention.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He still retains some of his cheery and mischievous persona, but make no mistake, once he's got you trapped, he'll reveal a much darker side. He likes to act oblivious to your suffering just to wind you up— oh, you're crying about how you want to be let out? so... anyways, what should we have for dinner? — and takes pleasure in both your despair and your anger towards him.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Depending on which version of Dazai we're talking about here (Mafia or ADA), his way of courting will be different. If you meet while he's in the Port Mafia, he will be more creepy than romantic. Relying more on intimidation than charm, he'll spend his time sadistically toying with you and jumping out of nowhere to wrap his arms around you in a suffocating hold. ADA!Dazai is pretty much the complete opposite— overwhelming you with endless gifts (mainly pricey chocolate and flowers), reciting cheesy love poetry, flirting constantly and of course always asking you whether you'd commit a double suicide with him.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Definitely. While Dazai appears as a cheerful, suicidal maniac with a penchant for troublemaking, he is actually quite different. Around you he does retain some of his facade, but the cracks will show and it'll be undoubtedly unsettling. He deceives you with his sweeter, more carefree side, before he reveals the merciless, cynical person he truly is.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Punishing his darling is Dazai's favourite thing... much to the disdain of his darling. He'll punish you for just about anything and half the time he won't even explain what you've done wrong, simply wanting an excuse to have his fun. His punishment can take many forms, usually sexual, and always teaches you a lesson. The punishments you receive depend on whether we're talking about mafia!Dazai or ADA!Dazai, the former typically based around humiliation and the latter around degradation and pain. (I have quite a few ideas but I didn't want to write too much on this here).

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Rights? Freedom? What are those? You don't know because you haven't experienced the feeling of independence and being able to make your own decisions since Dazai took an interest in you. He's an unbearably jealous person so he can't allow you to even look at other people, let alone talk to them. Despite how much you prove your loyalty to Dazai, he will still refuse to loosen his suffocating hold over you and your freedom.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

If Dazai thinks it's worth it, he can wait for just about anything, so he is usually relatively patient with his darling. I say 'usually', because while he doesn't mind waiting, he prefers his darling to respond to his questions and advances instantly and you risk getting punished if you don't. Unfortunately for you, you'll never know how patient he's feeling so it's always best to just be alert and reply immediately when he asks you something.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Definitely not. Dazai's life felt pointless until he met his beloved darling, so you leaving/dying would absolutely destroy him and increase his suicidal tendencies tenfold. Without his raison d'être what point is there in continuing to live?

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Guilt? Why on earth would Dazai feel guilty? He needs his darling to be around him pretty much 24/7 and kidnapping is the safest option for everyone, why should he feel guilty? I mean, who knows what kind of havoc Dazai would wreak if he couldn't have you by his side...

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Dazai's own ability describes exactly just how disconnected from other people he feels, so it's no surprise that he doesn't really understand love. It's the curiosity of what it's like to be human — to be like everyone else — that will compel him to pursue his darling to the point it develops into an obsession. You'll also have to be different enough to keep his attention, perhaps being eccentric in your own way or being extremely hard to read. He can't feel genuine love, at least not like others do, but he can feel intense obsession and that may be even more dangerous.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Unsurprisingly, Dazai enjoys his darling's tears and despair, being the sadist he is. However, he only likes it when he's the cause of your pain or distress, if you were crying because of someone else it would infuriate him to no end.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He appears like the typical delusional and deranged yandere, but he's actually very calculating and certainly lucid. He's fully aware of everything he's doing and how wrong it is, but does he care? Not in the slightest.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Honestly, it's hard to think of ways you could escape Dazai as he is extremely smart and unlike some other yanderes, no matter how compliant you are he will never let down his guard in the slightest. The only possibility is to kill him: whether that's by poisoning his food, smothering him in his sleep or biting down so hard on his neck he bleeds out. Either way, resorting to murder is the most plausible way of escaping.

Wit's end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Of course! What's the point of being with your beloved if you can't inflict a little pain onto them? Pain will be a daily occurrence for you as nothing is more melodic to Dazai than your cries of pain.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

While Dazai doesn't worship you per say, he does see you as ethereal— an angel that he feels compelled to ruin. Since doesn't see himself as human, you are very different to him in his mind. He wants someone else to feel as inhuman as he does, which is why he takes great pleasure in destroying your humanity. He isn't worried about winning you over either; he may appear like he is trying to do so, but he knows that if you don't return his advances he can just make you love him.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

As mentioned previously, Dazai can be very patient when he wants to be and has no problem playing the long game if he feels it is necessary. He won't kidnap you immediately: preferring to slowly worm his way into your life so that by the time you realise his true, much darker intentions, it's already too late to escape.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Well, he wants to mould his darling into the perfect submissive little kitten, so yes it is likely he would break them down until all he had to do was rebuild them in the image he wanted. Even if you genuinely love him back and want to be with him, Dazai will still tear down your mental stability to the point of complete reliance on him. He's never experienced any real love from another person before or been in an actual relationship, so it's safe to say his views on love are a little skewed. However, after he had completely broken you, Dazai would feel the closest he can to regret. He doesn't actually want you to be a lifeless doll, but unfortunately he only realises this after you're already too far gone.

[lemonmeringueprincess]

The Mind of  a Broken Soldier (Leave Me Be, Chapter 2 )

Hello People of Tumblr ! It’s ya girl Hazel ! I am back again with another chapter which i am 100% sure NOBODY request it because nobody requested this story in the first place but i’m still continuing it because i feel like it. I was planning on continuing this story and give sly nods to WandaVision and The Falcon and The Winter Soldier here and there along the way. Not in this chapter but... maybe on future chapters. But I’ll see how this one goes and where my idea leads me to.

So you need to read Chapter 1 to be able to understand this chapter properly because this chapter is solely Bucky’s point of view of the reader and some random thoughts. I love reading novels and love their style of writing hence i aspire to write a decent and proper story fanfiction. I mean when you read some books, there will be several chapters viewed from that other characters’ perspective so i decided to implement that style to my story. 

So once again, thank you so much if you decided to pop by, read it and love it. Don’t be shy to pop by my message box to share some ideas you have or maybe you just wanna vibe together, I’d love to do that with you guys too. But please please please don’t be mean if you don’t like it. FYI, this chapter is slightly shorter than the first chapter. Love, Hazel .

Disclaimer: No disclaimer or any warnings. But definitely do me and yourself a favour and check out Chapter 1 so you can properly comprehend this chapter with ease :) 

Characters : Bucky x Reader; teeny weeny mention of Sam :)

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Look man, I know we don’t really see eye to eye but I call to check on her…How’s she doin’?” Sam heaved a sigh of empathy from across the line.

I tightened my grip upon the thin, slick and smooth communication tool which now known as smartphone that I hadn’t had the chance to acquaint with. I let out a sigh of desperation, desperate of ways to haul her from the rabbit hole she’s now falling into. My fingers combing through my unruly long hair that’s bundled up in a disheveled bun. A bad habit of mine when I’m in desperation and anxiety.

“It’s been a week since Steve walked out from her life and if I’m being honest, Sam, she’s not doing very well. She’s…she’s been nestled up in her room since then.” I heaved another sigh of despair, my right human arm gripping the kitchen counter tightly in effort to prop myself while the other man-made hand still latched onto the phone.

“I even had to force feed her just to keep her alive for god sake.” I asserted whilst rubbing my right eye with the heel of my right human hand and quietly strutting towards her door. Leaning my side against the stark beige wooden door, plopping my ear against it to silently eavesdrop, just like how I had done countless times to check on her well-being without having to barge into the door. Soft whimper gradually shifted into muffled sobs. I closed my eyes, let my head hung low as if my neck was already tired enough to brace the weight of obstacles and desperation that merge into one and let out a long exhale.

“Gotta go, Sam… I’ll call you back.” I lowered my voice into mutter and hung up.

Even though I had known Steve for so many years, sometimes I still couldn’t decipher what’s in head. Recalling back to the 40s, way before he and I even considered enlisted into the army, women would always prefer me over Steve to take me out as their dancing partner when we’re at the bar. I felt bad for him and he’d sometimes complained that if only there’s the one out there who would see him through his frail and tiny stature. Seventy three years later, he abandoned the woman who’s been through with him through thick and thin, put up with his stupid decisions and god knows what more for eight years, for Peggy.

The woman whom he knew for only two years and only dated briefly.

The woman whom he’d share his infatuation and obsession with.

The woman he met at the army who didn’t even spare him a glance…not until after he’s gone through physical changes then eventually decided to give him a chance.

I wouldn’t even consider that as official if they only exchange flirting and longing glances at the office…

bar… 

and even Howard Stark’s Lab.

Clasping my hand upon the door handle, I levered it down and pushed open the door generating soft creaking from the hinge. I tiptoed my way in and left the door ajar. There she was… dressed down in only white camisole and panties while curled up in a fetal position upon the bed which was a bit too spacious now for a single person. Her back facing towards me, shoulders quivering from muffling her own sobs into whimper. 

Oh Steve… what have you done…

I slowly crept my way towards her and slowly sank myself on the bed. I was hesitant to lay next to her but I tried to push that thought away considering her mental health was already at stake. If I left her untended, she might eventually spiraled into deep depression and she’s already halfway there. So I laid next to her, draped my arm over her frail, delicate and small body to hold her close as if sheltering her from her own whirlpool of emotions . While offering her the comfort of silence, my mind wander off to how on earth Wanda dealt with her own grief… poor kid not only lost her significant other but also her twin brother and parents as I was informed by Sam. My train of thought was halted when I heard her croaked a rhetorical question, 

“H-h-he’s not coming back, is he? Did that prick even try second guessing his decisions?”

I wish I could do more than being her shoulder to cry on and dragging Steve back by the ear. That punk really took all the stupid with him. I contemplated whether I should say something decent to comfort and lift her spirit but I retracted. “I’m sorry, Doll… “ Were the only words I could muster from my still-healing disrupted mind. After Hydra’s infamous torturous events and being sent away to Wakanda to get my mind fixed. I found that I had difficulties of expressing my thought and feelings emotionally from the years of being over-electrocuted and memory-wiped conducted by Hydra, more strenuous than my old self. Not that I couldn’t do it but I realized it took more time to do so.

But even so I still try to rack my brain, dig deeper to find something nice to say; to make myself feel a tad better for at least doing something good in my life for once after the horrendous past, to at least counteract all those gruesome dirty work I unconsciously did to the others.

“I tried talking some sense into him, but he was very adamant of his decision. That punk…I’m really sorry…” i tried to string those words together carefully, worried that one step further or slight wrong move might set the fire ablaze even more. At this point, I was scared considering I had never connected to women emotionally. Sure I’d dated many women back in the 40s, but never considered them seriously… Now I know how it felt to wear their shoes, to know how it felt to be ditched and forgotten, even though I didn’t experience it firsthand.

Running out of options and words to say, I scooted closer whilst tightened my embrace and inhaling her scent, a hint of fresh bed linen and lavender; Steve hates it when women used too much perfume to the point it’s suffocating. I remember he’d always complained about the atrocious penetrating smell of perfume whenever we walked past the women at the bar.

“Doll… tell me what to do… I can’t bear seeing you breaking apart like this and I am running out of ways to numb your pain…” I consoled.

I used to be a good pep talker, a great one even; constantly spewing encouragement and lending a piece of advice or two to Steve. But I guess I had to shift my roles and be the good listener instead.

I did not expect her to open her heart and confide everything, as if she was confessing everything to me. I could only fervently listen to her anguish secrets that had been tormenting and keeping her awake. I felt really bad for the insecurity and self- doubt she had to endure these past years. Constant comparison with Peggy and doubting herself; nevertheless, she still fought her way to prove her worth… such strenuous and tenacious effort just to keep Steve’s attention to her…

Oh Steve… if only you’re in my position now, you’d know how much effort it took for her to keep up with your fantasy. They said love is full of sacrifices but not as much sacrifice from one side, both sides needed to make equal sacrifices to make things work, if one sacrifices too much, they’d weaken because they’re giving out too much and eventually died, just like her.

I knew Steve was always oblivious with things, but never as horrid as this. My heart sympathized and mourned for her. Eight years of relationship that she fought so hard to keep slipped out of her hands just like that.

“I-i-i-it h-h-h-urts, Buck… it hurts…He’s my first love, first kiss and…”

I felt her body shook under my embrace. No longer able to withstand her emotional suffer, I tried to soothe and lull her to sleep.

“I know, Doll. But I promise you’ll get through it, I promise to be with you every step of the way. We will get through it. I am not going anywhere. I am not going to walk out this door, not until you kick me out because you’re so sick of looking at my face. You have my word, Doll. I am staying.” I promised.

I promised myself I’d be there to pick up the pieces regardless of any circumstances, because it’s the right thing to do. I’d be there to hoist her up when no one else could. i’m doing what a good friend would do... It’s the right thing to do … Right? 

[peachchanvidel]

Hey! You mentioned you have headcanons about Kanto and Toph giving Lin The Talk. Would love to hear them if you're willing to share!

So, this could be a bit messy. Perhaps I can get some sort of order into it while writing. But probably not :"D

I also hope that some parts aren't too out of character (?) if that's possible. Honestly? I'm super nervous about this thing >< And I forgot like 90% of the dialogues I had in mind while writing this or just died in shame. And I probably adjusted so much, I'm not sure anymore what of my initial ideas is even left so things worked out.

The rough outline would be:

Toph is blunt (how could she not),

Kanto would love to avoid the whole thing, but knows he has to step in (and he isn't the type to ask others to step in instead *cough* Katara *cough*) and he will try to read guidebooks/scrolls on how to do this right, what if he missed something about the more girl-specific things? He also tries the flower and bee analogies but I'm not sure which insects to use here. (bumble fly? scorpion bee?)

Lin is too much her mother's child to be shocked and I hc her very curious: meaning she managed to read books about it (probably found Kanto's he didn't hide too well). She wants to know more, but some information is just nasty. And she isn't fond of having that conversation with her parents. Ewwww.

So she watches her parents struggle (and how much they struggle…) but she suffers, too:

"EWW, MOM, NO. That's disgusting! Don't make me imagine that?!''

"Why would anybody do that, sounds painful… wait, how big would that thing be…? What. HELL NO."

"DAD, WHAT… THAT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE! I can never look at flowers again if you continue this!"

also "*hides her face because she isn't sure if she should cry, laugh or groan in despair*"

[L: "So all of this nonsense just to tell me how babies are made. And that it's incredibly painful."

T: "Having them is painful, making them feels pretty good."

K: "Don't tell her that!"

T: "Just telling the truth." *shrugs* "She'll find out soon enough"

L: "…"

T: "And the baby making itself takes only a few minutes anyway."

L: "Mom, stop…"

T: "Listen, badgermole… you'll start to understand this when you fall in love. Or feel… needs. Sometimes you'll even just think somebody is kinda… hot?"

L: "...Can I go to my room, now…?"

K: *wants to leave as well*

T:  "And we can't miss the chance to teach you before you do something you perhaps don't understand…"

L: "Just say 'No'..."]

and at some point decides to work on her interrogation skills (spoiler: they suck).

When the point of appropriate age and serious relationships come up Lin sees her chance, looks Kanto in the eye (it's no use with Toph after all) and deadpans: "Ah…! So I was planned?" 

She knows she was born before her parents were even engaged, so why not imply why they couldn't keep their pants on until they were married. 

Kanto is actually getting more serious now:

After a heavy sigh he tells her that he is aware, that she isn't too interested in that whole thing just yet, but that's why they talk now and not when it's 'too late'. And they try to teach it their own way and not just give her some scroll to learn from, so she knows she can come to them if something's up they haven't discussed yet. They want her to be prepared.

And yes, they weren't planning on having a child back then, but they were certainly old enough to handle it. So even if they weren't peak role models here considering what they are preaching right now, that's not really an issue and it's certainly not a reason to judge anybody or be smug about. And he hopes she isn't implying that they regret something here. At this point Lin actually feels sorry for overstepping and apologizes but even Toph was one step away from trying to mediate now. 

Kanto continues that he wants to trust her, that he knows it will sometimes be difficult to resist, like it happened between him and Toph, but he hopes that she will know better in most cases and that she knows how far she can go and who she should trust and that a 'No' can sometimes be a very good test of character for the other party. (With every sentence he looks more worried and troubled and sounds less angry, but frustrated.)

But he still is her father and he will set certain boundaries while she is a minor, even if she feels ready, to keep her safe. 

And no matter how old she is, he will always look out for her (and no matter how awful her judgement was in retrospect). And she can always come to them, and will always get their support.

Later he adds that 'as soon as it's necessary' Toph will have to see a healer with her so she learns about contraceptives and will be able to use them. And he will only get involved in that if she wants him to. And here he is so obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation and how his emotions got the better of him.

[Later when Lin is in her room again:

T: "Oh come on, Hotshot, do you want to protect her until she is 30?" *pats his back*

K: "YES..! … …. …. ~No. I know I can't..."

T: "She'll do fine… you did good. Speech was a bit long though."

K: "You could have helped a bit."

T: "Naah… and your flower metaphors were adorable. Very girly."

K: "And you sounded like an anatomy scroll! Or a pro-bending commentator."

T: *looks proud* We are a good team! You really needed to be balanced out at some points!

K: "...!" *pouts* *after all he wanted to weaken HER blows*

Then they both start laughing, because the whole thing was so damn awkward.

Lin shouting out of her room: "THAT WAS NOT FUNNY AT ALL!"]

If Lin has siblings they had to wait in their respective rooms during the whole ordeal and are very confused what they have missed. "Lin, what did you talk about! I want to know, too" "No, you really don't..." "Are you in trouble?" "No...?" "Hmm... MOOOOOM...! Did Lin do smth bad?" (Oh well, they love each other, but also drive each other nuts lol)

[jay-and-dean]

Firefly   Chapter 1. Five years old

By Roonyxx and Jay-and-dean

Pairings : future Dean x reader ? 

Summary :  40 years in Hell, but he didn’t spend all this time all alone, he had her. 

Prepare to know what happened during those years Dean never talks about. To immerge yourself in Hell, only lit by the mysterious kid growing here...

And to see some of your favorite villains again : Crowley, Lilith, Lucifer... And also Sammy and Jack...

Serie Warnings : Hurt!Dean, Hell (torture, even if we tried to not give it graphic descriptions, creepy demons, blood, violence), swearing, angst, future fluff and smut.

This story is in both Reader’s POV and Dean’s POV

Wordcount : 2645

Note : This is our second collaboration. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like we did for Same.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

This story will be around 10 chapters and we intend to edit it every Saturday if nothing delays it.

Roonyxx Masterlist

Jay’s Masterlist

_________________________

Reader’s Pov

She should have stayed in her room. 

She should have stayed in her room for many reasons. Because her huge, warm and luxury bedroom was far enough from the horrible screams first. Desperate calls for help echoing everywhere, useless begging and strangled howls of infinite pain. 

Because her room was neither burning hot nor cold like bleak ice.

Because there was no smell indescribably vile between the rock walls and along the velvet curtains…

But in her child mind, anything was better than eternal silence, even cries for help, better than the lonely torpor of comfort, than that unbearable loneliness.

And boredom.

So, as usual, she took Mister Teddy Bear in her arms, holding him close against her tiny body. With her finger she stuffed the foam escaping from the hole where his head should be, and smiled at his pathetic form.

She didn’t miss his head, for the same reason she didn’t miss the sky : because she had never seen it. 

Hell was big enough to get lost forever but she never did. It was vast enough for her to never go twice in the same place if she decided too. And for now, she had only found one place worth going back, the rest was only screams.

She shivered a little, today was cold, at least in this area. And even if she was shaped to handle Hell, she could see the steam coming out of her mouth and taste the metallic smell of blood on her tongue. 

When something moved on the wall of that infinite corridor, she took a step back, bumping the opposite sweating blood wall. It was the skin of a human being, empty and limply nailed on the wall, but somehow still whining and crying.  

She looked down at Mister Teddy bear and noticed it had been stained again, by the thick smelly blood constantly seeping from the tall cold dark walls. She sighed and gave the shaking empty skin a reprimanding look, frowning her thin and small eyebrows.

And she kept walking. 

A demon appeared at an intersection. He wasn’t wearing a human form, his giant body scrawny to the bones, with a crest of rotten wood along his visible spine, transparent skin, no eyes, and a huge pair of horns above him. His arms were long enough to touch the floor, and he was raising his legs too high while walking, which gave him something of a spider. 

She recognized Jael.

He passed by, ignoring her tiny form as usual, leaving a trail of smoke and sulfur behind him. For him, she was probably not bigger than a cat would be to a human being. Annoyed by his complete indifference, she closed her tiny five years old fists and punched his leg in a grunt. 

The demon didn’t even acknowledge her and she watched him walk or crawl away. 

She stayed still for a moment, holding Mister Teddy Bear tight, looking around at the infinite numbers of boring corridors this maze had. She turned on herself in a little dance, her dress flying like there was wind, closed her eyes and stopped randomly, a little dizzy.

This way today.

She sighed in content, she had never been this way before. So she put her tiny patent shoe in front of her and started walking.

She walked for a while, going in any direction like a little mouse in an abandoned manor. Avoiding the walls and covering her ears when the screams were too loud. Once or twice she looked inside the rooms, her eyes meeting pieces of humans, arms reaching to her, eyes without eyelids following her tiny form while beasts with their demon faces or a human costume were feasting on their guts. 

She turned left and found herself in front of a door opened on a large room with a man in the middle of it. 

He wasn’t screaming. 

Chains were maintaining him up and straight, his arms stretched toward the ceiling. The chain was going through his stomach and one of his thighs. Weights were at his hips probably slowly tearing his back.

She stopped in front of the door and held Mister Teddy Bear closer, studying his silhouette, hidden in the shadow of the corridor. 

He was brighter, he was stronger. His silence made her shiver for she was so used to the din of despair.

Did he really belong here ?

Mesmerized by his noble aura, she took a step in the room and looked up. His face was held by a chain around his neck, his eyes closed and face unexpectedly calm, almost as if he was sleeping. 

When she took another shy step, her potent shoe hit a piece of the chain she didn't notice and the metallic sound made him gasp. His eyes opened and their green light fell on her.

He stayed totally motionless, but it was not like he could really move anyway. Only his eyes weren’t still, trembling in her direction, struggling to focus. Like all the damned souls, he seemed really surprised to see her here, she was just a little girl anyway ; and there was no child in Hell. But his eyes had no expression of supplication, only a mix of distrust and pain.

Demons had never frightened her much, some of them were impressive and ugly, disgusting even. But they couldn’t hurt her. What made shivers run along her tiny back were the damned themselves. Their screams, their begging, their despair... And in her immature mind, she had come to think they were fouler than the creatures of Hell themselves.

Not him. 

Her fascinated wide eyes were magnetized to his face, forgetting the chains and the pool of blood at his feet, everything broken about him. She just stared at his face and thought he was beautiful in a way.

She forgot her boredom for a second, and took another step. In front of her little form, with his arms almost reaching the ceiling, he appeared as tall as a mountain. She lifted her chin, frustrated a little to not be able to come closer to his face. 

Despite his dusty and grimy skin, she could see little light brown stains around his nose, his eyes were very green and bright, and bloodshot only made their natural color lighter.

Her tiny hand moved a little, not sure what she wanted to do, maybe poke his thigh, like little children tend to do when they find something curious. But he flinched, and she got scared. The whole mountain of his motionless body suddenly making the iron of the chains scream.

She took a step back and put Mister Teddy Bear on the floor, away from danger, before she came closer again. Keeping her eyes on him to tame the reactions of this huge and impressive wounded beast.

This time, she showed him her hand. Her little palm raised gently, she stood there, tasting his blood on her tongue, and the smell of metal and pain.

His face was confused, and his eyes still trembling from the intense fear of being touched, but he kept them on her, going from her innocent eyes to her tiny clean hand.

Dean’s pov

His eyes followed her as she sat down cross-legged a few feet from him, watching him in silence, she took Mister Teddy Bear and put him in her lap.

Dean’s eyes flickered from her little form to the door, waiting for the next torture to begin, but it didn’t.

She just kept watching him, her eyes shining with innocence only a child has. Was she really a kid ? Was it a trap ? A trap to what, nothing could really get worse anyway… Trying to ignore the horrible pain, he focused on her eyes to try and read them. 

Everything was weird about her. Her age, her beauty, like she came from another world, Earth or even Heaven… Nothing was dark or vile on her feature. She didn’t seem to mind that her little pink dress was getting soaked in his blood.

With one last glance at the door he cleared his throat, hoarse from screaming hours and hours, and from not really talking for what ? Years...

“Hey little girl?” he cleared his throat once more, surprised by his own voice.  

Not controlling his tone perfectly, he spoke a little too loud which made her shuffle back a little. He really didn’t want her to disappear just now, maybe if he managed to talk to her a little, get a name...

“No stay, s-sorry… I’m not gonna hurt you.” His voice seemed to calm her this time, she held Mister Teddy closer to her chest.

“Are you, lost ? What’s your name?” He tried, but she just kept watching him not saying a word. 

He gave her a little smile through the unbearable suffering. It felt foreign smiling, he hasn’t done it in years. 

“I won’t tell anyone.” 

It looked like she smiled back but he was too far to see it clearly, could she even talk anyway ? She looked human, but here… a kid ? Was she dead too ? How did she end up here ?

“Where you from, little girl?” he tried again, speaking was horribly painful but this moment was priceless to him. 

How he would love to hear a voice other then the screams of Hell or the filth the demons spat at him. But she kept her lips sealed, taking her little bear by the legs, making him walk through the blood. She didn’t seem phased by the horror of it at all.

“I’m Dean” he said. 

She looked up at him and slowly took the arm of her bear to wave at him. His eyes widened, so she could hear and understand him. If he had been able to, he would wave back, instead he chuckled lightly for the first time since the Hellhounds got him; almost forgetting the the chains in his back.

“What’s your little friend’s name? He looks badass.” 

Still no answer.

He needed her to be real, to not be an hallucination caused by pain or loneliness.

“Well I guess I’ll give you a name then, is that okay ?”

She shrugged slightly, wiping her headless toy to her perfectly ironed dress. 

“What you think of… Firefly?” She looked up at him, now he was sure he could see a smile gracing her little face.

“You like that ? You remind me of one” he tried not to cough at his dry throat, knowing it would be enough to break his back. “A little light in the darkest place…”

He started to look at her thoroughly. She didn’t look too skinny, she was a little dirty, blood stains on her arms, dress and shoes, but in a place like this that wasn’t surprising. Her eyes didn’t look heavy so she had a place to sleep, to rest… How he missed resting, to be able to close your eyes and just sleep, to not fear the never ending pain.

“How did you end up here ?” he asked more for himself, as she didn’t seem to talk at all. 

Maybe she couldn’t speak at all. How old would she be, four ? Maybe five ? The blood stains on her face made it difficult to see her child like features.

She was so remarkable, in this screaming pit of misery and despair, there was not one ounce of fear in her eyes. She didn’t seem faced by the fact that she was covered in blood, that her teddy bear was missing his head, that he himself was dangling by chains and seeping the very same blood she was sitting in. 

“You have been here for a while haven’t you ?” 

He could tell she probably didn’t know anything else but Hell. The absence of fear, the indifference, like everything was just as it always had been... He was sure of it. But then again, how did she end up in the pit ?

A cautious dark chuckle left his mouth.

“I lost count of how long I’ve been here but I heard it’s been about 10 or 15 years.”

She looked up at him, her little E/C eyes shining with curiosity, he hasn’t seen that in years, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them. They remind him so much of Sammy’s eyes when he was younger. 

A heavy door fell shut in the distance making Dean flinch, grunting loud when his cruel bonds rattled. She got up and came closer, inspecting the chain going through his thigh, her face showing little interest in it. 

Then, her curiosity visibly winning against her distrust, she crawled between his legs to watch his back. And he closed his eyes in apprehension of her touching something. But she didn’t.

Reader’s Pov

He was different from everything she had seen in her short life, he wasn’t screaming like the others, or begging, he just… endured it. He seemed stronger. 

She circled him to come back to where she could see his face. Her little hand reached for him again, but she remembered the damned didn’t like to be touched so she took her hand back.

Heavy footsteps suddenly echoed in the hallway. 

She grabbed mister Teddy Bear from the floor and moved to stand beside the door, Jael entered, still in his demonic form.

“Dean Winchester, ready for your next session ?” his croaky voice came out of his mouth full of teeth in a strange way. “The master Alastair is waiting.” 

He steps on the chain making it shift in Dean’s gut. When Dean groaned hoarsely, she moved to punch her little fist into the creatures leg again.

With a sulfur stenched sigh the creature looked down her.

“What are you doing in here” he said in a growl. “You know it isn’t allowed.” 

His long bony fingers wrapped around her left ankle to pull her upside down into the air, she weighed nothing. She started to struggle but totally in vain, her palms clenched around Mister Teddy Bear to not lose him, and her free leg trying to kick the demon.

“I’m not a damn babysitter” the demon sighed, a cloud of smelly sulfur reaching her face, and making her sneeze. “I’ll tie you again if you keep wandering, child.” 

He turned to leave the room, his creepy gait making her dangle left and right.

“I’ll be back for you Winchester, you’ll say yes to Alastair soon enough.”

Still dangling from Jael’s grip, she took her bear arms and waved it at Dean before the Demon turned in the hallway.

Jael walked back to where her room was, when he pushed the door he came face to face with a Demon in the shape of a man, wearing a suit and a brand new watch, Crowley.

“Sir, your filth has been wandering” he dropped her to the floor bluntly. “Again.”

“Careful Jael, that’s my daughter” the smooth, human voice of her father echoes with no affection.

Crowley bended to pull her up by the arm, grimacing at how dirty she was, and put her in the corner where he had put the chain a few times ago, that was a little to big for her fragile foot anyway, around her.

“Now sweet cheeks” Crowley bended to her eye level “You know you aren’t allowed to leave this room so do us all a favor and don’t?” 

She stuck her tongue out to him.

“Just kill her already” Jael grunted.

Crowley stood up and ushered Jael out of the room, he locked the door behind them, while she already took her foot out of the too big chain to run at the door, failing to open it. 

“Patience Jael, one day this girl will lead us to victory, you’ll see.”

___________________________________

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[superfanficnatural]

The Cold Of Heart

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: (I really do not want to spoil) You decide to tell Dean how you really feel.

A/N: Ok so I found this and completely forgot about it so I’m just going to post it lol. As always, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: I’m not spoiling but angst, negative thoughts. Don’t worry, no triggers or anything like that. 

Gif is not mine

Six years. You had been hunting with the Winchesters for the past six years, falling in love with one of them almost instantly. At first, you wanted to make sure that it was real, not just infatuation, so you waited. Expecting it to go away, you were surprised to find out that your love kept running deeper and deeper, finding new reasons every single day to love that goofy green eyed hunter. Once you knew you were in love with him, you waited, praying that he would feel the same. Everyday, you dropped subtle hints, hoping that he would pick up on them or at least show some kind of attraction to you. After all this time, he didn’t say or do anything, so you decided enough was enough, you were going to confess your feelings for him. 

Walking into the library, you saw Dean sitting down on one of the chairs, propping his feet up on the table. You smiled and walked up to him, “Hey, Dean. Where’s Sam?” you asked.

“He’s out, said he had to go shopping for something,” he grunted, looking up at you.

You went over and sat down at a chair across the table from him, taking a deep breath, “Hey, I uh, have something to tell you,” you warily admitted.

“What’s up Y/N?”

“I- at first when I- um... I think-” you were a stuttering mess, already having a blush on your face.

“Y/N, take a deep breath for me,” he chuckled, putting his feet down and resting his elbows on his legs, giving you his attention.

You took in another deep breath and exhaled slowly, “For the longest time, I waited,” you started, “I waited for you to give me a sign, anything that showed that you felt the same way,” you started.

“Y/N...”

“Don’t, please, let me say this,” you shakily cut him off.

“Ever since I first met you, I had this undeniable attraction to you. At first I thought to myself, he’s just attractive, it’s all just physical attraction,” you began, “But after a while, getting to know you, I found myself falling deeper and deeper. The way your eyes shine when you have a genuine smile on your face, the caring and protective side of you for those you love. I couldn’t help but fall for you,” you breathed, a smile threatening to grow on your face.

“You never gave me any kind of indication that you felt the same way even after all of the hints that I dropped, I don’t know if you ever even really saw them but I decided that enough was enough and that I should just flat out tell you,” you took a deep breath, “I’m in love with you, Dean Winchester,” you picked up your gaze and looked at him. He seemed like he was having an internal struggle and his face had lost all color. 

The silence was deafening and you didn’t know if you could take it any longer. After a few moments, he steeled his face and responded.

“Y/N, I’m sorry but...”

No

No no no no please, don’t

“I don’t feel the same way.”

You couldn’t breathe, a lump in your throat closing off your air, your eyes wide and mouth agape. You felt like you were being sucked into a bottomless pit of despair, becoming disoriented you couldn’t feel your arms or legs. You thought that he was just hiding it because he was scared, that he didn’t want to ruin what you guys had. Your heart was broken, and there was nothing that you could do to fix it. 

There’s nothing else he can say that could break me further than this

“You’re like a little sister to me.”

A tear fell down your eye, followed by another, and another. There was this pain in your chest that hurt more than any stab wound, any gunshot. It felt like it was piercing your heart, bleeding it of its life. You couldn’t be here anymore, seeing Dean’s steeled face with no emotion, you couldn’t handle it. You got up and ran, ran as fast as you could to your room, your legs feeling like ghost limbs. You shut the door and sat down on your bed, bawling your eyes out. 

He didn’t take the hints because he never liked you. Why would you ever think that he would like someone like you? You aren’t even his type, eat too much greasy food, love handles for miles, you’re disgusting.

The voice in your head was driving you insane, it voiced everything that you were afraid to admit, all of your insecurities. 

You never deserved someone like Dean, you don’t deserve happiness, only suffering.

“Shut up,” you growled. “That’s not true,” you muttered, not believing it but hoping if you said it, it would become believable. 

Even you don’t think that, you’re pathetic, they only asked you to join them so they wouldn’t feel bad if you died on a hunt by yourself. God knows you can’t hunt to save your own ass.

You couldn’t stop the voices, they were overbearing, bringing all of your deepest darkest thoughts up to the surface. You couldn’t sit still, pacing around your room with tears streaming down your face. Bringing your hands up to your head, you tried to get rid of the voices but they weren’t letting up.

You can’t get rid of us, for we are your inner thoughts, the ones you tried to push down. If only you had understood that you were worthless, this wouldn’t have been happening.

I can’t do this anymore, you started packing all of your stuff up with haste, throwing your clothes into your duffel. You grabbed the keys to your car and snuck out of your room, Dean wasn’t anywhere in sight so you took your opportunity and ran to the garage, getting in your car and hightailing it out of there. You were on the road for about ten minutes before you started crying again, flashes from your conversation coming back to you.

You’re like a little sister to me

I don’t feel the same way

You felt like you were suffocating, unable to draw breath. Your heart still had that piercing pain, as clear as ever. The tears were coming at full force, blinding you so you couldn’t see the bright lights rapidly approaching your car.

Dean’s POV

Shit, I knew that conversation was going to come sooner or later. I had noticed every single hint that Y/N had dropped, but I made sure that I didn’t give her an inch. She could never find out.

After our conversation, she ran back to her room, tears falling down her face. I felt terrible, I had to force myself to stay in my seat so I wouldn’t go and comfort her, knowing she wouldn’t want anything from me. I went back to my room and could hear her crying through the wall separating us. There was a huge pain inside of my chest that no matter how hard I tried to push down it just wouldn’t go away. I felt like a complete asshat but this was for the best, I can’t do that.

After about half an hour, I decided to go talk to her, wanting to see if I could make her feel better. Walking into her room, my heart dropped. It was clean, she had packed up all of her stuff.

Fuck, no no no

I ran to the garage and saw that she had taken her car. I rushed back into my room and took out the tracker that could trace her car. 

Why isn’t she moving?

I didn’t have time to dwell on that, I got my jacket and keys and ran to baby, getting in and pulling out of the garage, baby’s wheels skidding on the floor from my speed. Checking the tracker, she was about three miles ahead of me. After a few minutes, I saw bright blue and red lights lighting up the forest and my vision.

No

I drove until I saw it, her car totaled, smashed into some other person's car. I got out of baby and overheard the officer say, “The witness in the other car said that she seemed to have tears in her eyes so she couldn’t see the road.”

I rushed up to the car and saw her. Body limp, flown out of the car from the windshield, cuts all over her face and body. The officer tried to stop me but I pushed him off of me and rushed to her.

“Y/N? Y/N can you hear me? No no no no, don’t leave me, I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me,” I choked out, tears streaming down my eyes. I couldn’t breath, her normally bright and beautiful face now colorless, her eyes that once had fire in them, lifeless. 

It’s all my fault. 

She’s gone and it’s my fault

I let out an ear piercing scream, the pain in my chest too much to handle. My soul felt like it was being ripped out of my body, punishment for not telling the truth. 

If only I hadn’t pushed her away, we would be safe and back at the bunker

I succumbed to the thoughts in my head, it really was my fault. She’s dead because of me, just like everyone else.

Two Weeks Later

“Dean, can I come in?” Sam asked, knocking on Y/N’s old bedroom door. There was no answer so he walked in, recoiling and holding his nose with his hand. The stench of alcohol everywhere.

“Dean, what the fuck? What are you doing?”

“Fuck off Sammy, leave me alone,” he muttered, drunk off of his ass.

“Look, Y/N’s death hurt both of us, but she’s gone Dean! She’s gone, and drinking yourself into a stupor isn’t going to bring her back!”

“Get the fuck out, before I kill you,” he snarled.

Sam took a step back, the venom in his voice scaring even him. He left the room and slammed the door, angry that Dean wasn't letting him help.

Dean took another sip of the bottle, emptying it. He was disgusted with himself, not caring if he died or not, knowing that it was his fault Y/N died, he felt like he deserved it. Hell, he wanted it. He had no purpose left in life, without Y/N, everything was dark. She was the light in his world, the light that woke him up in the morning, the light that made him want to fight to become a better person, and he was the one who snuffed it out. He threw the bottle against the wall, roaring out in anger, the tears steady streaming down his face. He picked up a shirt next to him, the only one that Y/N didn’t pack and brought it to his face, deeply inhaling her scent, bringing another wave of tears to the surface. 

If only I was strong enough to tell her, to tell her that I loved her.

Y/N POV

You woke up in a bright room, completely alone, in what seemed like a white box.

“Hello? Is this the new and improved version of hell?” you yelled out.

After a few moments, a door appeared and a man walked in. Fairly short, blue eyes and a beard, he seemed harmless.

“You don’t look like a demon,” you remarked.

He chuckled, “No, I’m not a demon, but who I am doesn’t matter, what does matter, is that it isn’t your time yet.”

“What do you mean ‘not my time yet’?”

He walked over to you, standing a few feet away from you, he smiled softly, his eyes glowing white, then everything went blank.

Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp​ @shadowsinger11​ @donnaintx​ 

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags: @akshi8278​

Female Reader Tags: @punof-agun​ @emoryhemsworth​

[k7l4d4]

Blood for Blood: An Owl House Story Chapter 1 Part 6

Hello all, this part 6, and the last part of chapter 1! Everybody clap your hands!!

As Luz walked down the halls of the Conformatorium, she spotted King and Eda fiercely waving to her up ahead. As she made her way over, she spotted King desperately clawing at the, admittedly impressive, door. 

“Hey, kid. ‘Bout time you got here! Come on, the Warden’s currently distracted tormenting some poor helpless creature.” The reminder of what Tiny was going through, and Eda’s seeming indifference to her suffering, almost made Luz snap at the witch. Almost, that is, if it weren’t for the slight shift in her eyes as she said it. 

Luz calmed down; Eda was every bit as bothered by what the Warden was doing as she was, but they had a mission, and she had to focus. Eda wasn’t being callous, she was focusing on what she could actually effect.

Forcing herself to smirk, she gently pried King away from the doors. “You don’t need to do that little conqueror. You got a human with you this time, remember?”

“Yeah, but the feel of my crown, so close yet so far from my grasp is driving me crazy!” King stomped his foot in outrage. Luz wisely held back the part of her that wanted to say ‘don’t you mean crazy-er?’ 

The sight of Eda fondly shaking her head at the little demon’s antics helped ease some of Luz’s mood. As they opened the doors, Luz barely had time to blink before King hurled himself forward, eager for his treasure... only to be stopped and shocked by the barrier of energy barring his path.

“Uh, King? Human first, remember?” With a bemused stare, Luz moved past the dazed demon and easily crossed the threshold, which all but immediately started collapsing behind her. Huh, guess they half to re-cast whatever spell made that barrier every time it’s breached. Good to know for future reference. 

The sheer bevy of junk, treasures, and confiscated goods that surrounded Luz made her feel like she had stumbled upon a hoarder’s private stash, even more so than Eda’s house did. As she walked towards the center, Luz caught sight of the pedestal in the middle, and the crown resting on top. As Luz got a closer look at it, she noticed how familiar the crown was- 

“You’ve got. To be kidding me.” Deadpanning, she took the crown in hand, and gently plopped it on King’s head.

It was a crown all right. A BURGER QUEEN Crown, the kind they gave out in kids’ meals back home. 

“YES! I CAN FEEL MY DARK POWERS RETURNING!! You there! Creature of darkness!” As King exulted over his “reclaimed power,” he dramatically posed at a nearby stuffed rabbit. “You shall be a general in my army, and I shall call you Francois!”

As King played, Luz turned a flat stare onto Eda. “That crown doesn’t give him any kind of power outside of his own head, does it?” The wry smirk she got in return told her all she needed to know.

“Ha! Of course not. It’s just some dumb little thing I found while looking through my scrap that he took a liking too.” Suddenly, Eda hunched over, suddenly looking older, more tired. “Ah, who am I kidding. Look kid, Luz, me and King? All we have in this world is each other. So if that stupid crown is important to him,” She turned a soft, warm smile onto the joyous demon. “Than it’s important to me- Are you crying!?” 

Luz was indeed crying. What could she say, that was beautiful!! Still, she managed to stifle her tears long enough to voice what was on her mind.

“*Sniffle* As touching as this is,” And it really, really was, “I spotted the Warden earlier on my way here, and I think this whole thing might be a trap.” As comprehension, and tired resignation, dawned on her face, Eda summed up the situation perfectly.

“Aw crap.”

“Indeed.” As the ominous voice of the Warden sounded out, Luz couldn’t even let out a shout of warning as the Axe-Hand-Arm-Thing that was his right arm currently effortlessly cleaved through Eda’s neck. 

Luz did not panic easy. And this certainly wasn’t the first severed head she had handled. But she had to admit, she was much closer than usual to her breaking point.

She did not expect Eda’s head to yell in pain. “OW! Darn it, I always hate it when that happens.” Seeing at how nonchalant Eda seemed to be at being a severed head, Luz decided to ask what was bugging her before she lost her nerve.

“I gotta know, is this a ‘Witch Thing’ or a ‘You Thing?’“

“Honestly? I think this might be a me thing, but I do think other Witches might be capable of it under the correct circumstances.”

Before Luz could process that little tidbit, one of the nearby guards rushed her, pinning her arms behind her back (badly, she noted). She watched on as Wrath picked up Eda’s head. 

“I finally captured you, Eda the Owl Lady. I knew that if I took your pet’s toy,” With that said, he reached over to King, who had stopped celebrating at the trouble around him, and crushed the crown, eliciting a cry of despair from the small demon. 

“That you would come running.” Luz was really starting to not like the sound of this, and neither was Eda, going off her face. “And now, I want you... to go out with me.” 

What? The cheers of support from the guards confirmed that, yep, Luz had heard that right. And she hated what she was hearing. As Wrath monologued, talking about how attracted he was to Eda’s ability, and how she wasn’t really in a position to say no, Luz’s disgust peaked.

“I hate everything your saying.” That, apparently, wasn’t the smartest thing to say, as Wrath lashed at her in rage. Apparently, his arms were shape-shifting tentacles. If he weren’t suck a colossal prick, that would probably be pretty cool! 

Now pinned in place on the ground, you would think Luz would be in trouble, but if anything, Wrath’s temper tantrum gave her the opening to slip herself one of her knives. And as Eda starting toying with Wrath, and Luz really tried not to laugh at the raspberry she gave and Wrath’s reaction to it, she knew her opening would be coming right... about... now!

As Eda’s body, which had been secretly inching closer to Wrath with her staff, whacked the angry demon over the head, Luz spun herself, breaking the grip the guard holding her down had, lashing out with her knife for his tendons; she would’ve aimed at the torso, bigger target and all, but she didn’t know how different Witch Anatomy was from a human’s to ensure she didn’t hit something fatal. 

As the other guards rushed her, apparently preferring to take on the human child than face off against the grown witch currently going toe-to-toe with their boss, Luz swept their legs out beneath them, aiming deep cuts in their shoulders to hamper their movements further.

Just as she was about to move, Eda suddenly collided with Luz, as the two of them and King were suddenly hurled through the new hole in the wall. Wow, Wrath and Eda must’ve been causing some serious mayhem. 

“Alright, listen Luz.” Her attention pulled to Eda, Luz barely held in a wince, Eda was pretty banged up. “I need you to take Owlbert here,” she indicated her staff, and pulled out the key she used with the portal, “and get yourself home. You held up your end of the deal, now it’s my turn to hold up mine.”

As Luz was suddenly scooched onto Owlbert, the staff had a name huh, her brain managed to process what was happening. They were sending her back, and taking on that maniac Wrath who, wow, could apparently breath fire. “But what about you guys?”

For some reason that felt strange, King spoke up first. “HA! This is nothing, you should’ve seen her last boyfriend.” The retort he got from Eda, and the clear laughter on his face, helped ease some of Luz’s concern.

“Ugh, you little menace.” Deciding to turn away from King, Eda turned to Luz, hoping to convince her before Wrath spotted them. “Don’t worry about us. We’ve been through some pretty tough scraps before, and we’ve always come out fine in the end. I’m not gonna have a kid’s life on my hands because I got reckless. Besides, us weirdos gotta stick together.” 

Putting on a brave face, hoping Luz didn’t see the worry she felt about how this whole mess was going. Before Luz could protest, Eda slapped the butt of her staff, sending Owlbert, and Luz with him, flying. “Alright King, let’s do this.”

“This is gonna suck, isn’t it?”

Letting out a bitter chuckle, Eda replied in kind. “Oh yeah.”

As Luz soared overhead, her heart ached. Luz was no stranger to ducking out on trouble, but this time, she wanted to help, and not being able to... it hurt. Pulling the portal key up to her eye, she murmured, “Weirdos stick together huh?” 

Getting an idea Luz leaned down to the staff, to Owlbert, and started talking. “Hey, staff? I know you are probably only supposed to listen to Eda, and she said to get me out of here, but do you think we could go back? I... I really think Eda is in trouble, and I can’t just run away from it. She and King, they need all the help they can get, and I wanna be one of the ones who help them.” The eyes of the staff flashed, and suddenly, the staff stalled in the air, and turned around. Luz cheered.

As the staff raced back into the Conformatorium, Luz was mildly surprised to find herself outside the very same cages that housed the first prisoners she met here. In fact, despite the cages being trashed, they were still there. “Why aren’t you guys, you know, leaving?” She was honestly curious.

The fanfic writer from before turned to her, a tired, sad, frown on her face. “What’s the point? The Warden will just catch us again.”

The eyeball-eater spoke up next. “We belong here.”

“Self-doubt is a pwison that none can escape fwom.” Tiny Nose through in her voice.

Luz couldn’t believe this. How couldn’t they see it? How could they not understand? Welp, she supposed she would have to MAKE them understand. “Now that’s a load if I ever heard one.” 

The prisoners snapped their gazes to her. 

“Who care’s if your different.” She pulled herself to her feet, still atop the staff. “Your differences might make you strange, but they also make you INCREDIBLE!! I was raised to believe that nobody should be punished for being true to themselves, and that includes you guys!”

The writer spoke up. “Why? Why are you helping us?”

Luz turned a sad smile her way. “Because I know how much it hurts to be treated like being yourself is a crime, or some type of disease. You are all unique, and you shouldn’t let the words of a bitter old creep,” Tiny Nose perked up at her words from before being repeated, “Convince you that their is anything wrong with that! So society says you have to change? Nuts to that! You be the one’s to make society change instead!” 

Now all the prisoners were looking her way, the hopeless fear gone, and replaced with burning hope. “Now... WHO’S WITH ME!?!?” With a roar, all the prisoners cheered in unison.

Eda dropped to one leg, King collapsed to the ground beside her. This was not going well. She was nearly out of magic, she was beaten silly, the only real upside to this was that the kid had gotten away.

“And now, Owl Lady, since you rejected my heart, your life is mi-” as she braced herself for the blade, she was a little bit confused when Wrath cut off with a choke. Lifting her gaze, she was dumbfounded to see Wrath being pinned in place by what could only be prisoners from inside.

“Uh, Eda, are you seeing what I’m seeing, or are we finally dead?” Morbid question aside, Eda was wondering the same thing as King. As the prisoners wrestled Wrath to the ground, a series of blasts went off, the guards from before running around with holes poking through their uniforms and fire coating them.

“HIT THE DECK!!” At the shout, all the prisoners, Eda and King too, jumped clear, a rocket of sorts rushed through the air, crashing into Wrath with a boom. 

Eda marveled at the damage the thing did to the brute of a demon, small puncture wounds dotting his chest and torso and burn marks all over, he probably would’ve died if he wasn’t so tough. At the sight of the downed Warden, the guards panicked, dropping any attempt to round up the prisoners to prioritize tending to their leader’s wounds, while the escaping prisoners all cheered. 

Turning around, Eda and King both stopped and just stared at the sight before them. Luz, standing on Owlbert, as carefree as can be, idly flicking a knife open and closed, holding a strange bottle stuffed with a burning rag in her off hand, which she promptly tossed at the wall behind her, another hole blasting open in response.

“So. You guys just gonna stand there, or are we gonna get out of here?” Shaking off their disbelief, both Eda and King smirked, rushing over to the staff, and the newly formed trio took off, back for the Owl House.

As Owlbert landed outside the Owl House, Eda marveled at the strange human girl. She was smart, good with a weapon, could apparently make improvised explosives, and was a good fighter. Sure, she was a little scary, but she just had this sweetness about her. 

“Well kid, this has been fun, but I think this is where you head home.” And just when the kid was starting to grow on her too.

“Hold up.” Wait, what? “Who said anything about me leaving.”

“Uh, kid, you do know you are in the Demon Realm, right? This place ain’t exactly safe for your kind.” She wasn’t kidding earlier when she said she didn’t want a kid’s blood on her hands.

“Yeah, but the thing is, I really don’t like people telling me what I can and can’t do. Plus, I kind of need a place to crash for the summer, you know?” Wait a minute...

“You aren’t thinking of staying here, are you!?” She already had enough trouble with the roommates she already had, and she didn’t think she could take another, even one as interesting as Luz was turning out to be.

“Well, yeah. Why not? I can help cook, clean, bring in cash,” Cash? Oh, probably what the humans call their snails. “I could even teach you some of the skills I got under my belt.” Okay, now Eda was tempted. For all that she was young, this kid did seem to know an awful lot of very useful skills that she wouldn’t mind getting her hands on. 

“And in exchange, you can teach me magic!” Okay, better head that one off before it gets out of hand.

“Hate to burst your bubble kid, but humans can’t do magic.”

Luz, though, wasn’t having it. “Has any human ever actually had the chance to try?” That, honestly, stumped Eda, as she genuinely didn’t know. It was just one of the things that was treated as common sense. But... she always did enjoy turning things on their heads.

A tug at her dress got her to glance down at King. “Let her stay. She can make snacks!” Eda blinked. She snorted. Than she just straight up laughed. Looking at Luz’s out-stretched hand, she grasped it in her own and shook it.

Grinning broadly, Eda sealed the deal. “Alright kid, you win. As long as you help pull your weight, you a got a place for the summer (whatever summer actually is), and I’ll do my best to try and teach you magic.” And with that said, she decided to turn up the showmanship. 

“And I might’ve said this once already, but...” As she gestured expansively, lights burst into place once more, illuminating her home in all its splendor. “ Welcome. TO THE OWL HOUSE!”

Luz grinned, excitement burning through her. So maybe her Mami might be a little (extremely) mad if she ever found out. But right now? She was gonna live the dream she has had ever since she read her first fairy tale. She was gonna be a witch. 

After all, nobody told Luz Noceda, Mafia Heiress, what she could and couldn’t be, not in the Human World, and not in this one either.

And we are done! Let me know what you all think. The ending stretch wasn’t as strong as I felt it could’ve been, but I think I did a good job.

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober Day 27

Extreme Weather

Ao3

Summary: Dick and Damian find themselves captured and left above deck in a major sea storm. Things only get worse from there.

For the one and only, fantastic and talented @geminibabyhere !! I really hope you like it!!!

-o-o-o-o-

The wind howls. Practically screams; each drop of rain landing on the metal floor of the boat's dock is louder than a bullet. It's all Dick can do to keep in his dinner as the storm tosses the boat one way and another. He's always had horrible motion sickness when it comes to boats, only this time it's a thousand times worse because he can't stumble to any bedrooms and curl up after swallowing fifty different pills to settle the nausea.

All he can do now is clutch to the pole he's chained to and try to keep his footing as another wave launches over the boat's railings and washes across the flooring with riptide forces.

He feels like he's going to vomit. He feels worse than death actually. But his current situation limits his options, especially since Damian is trapped out here as well, just barely managing to stand against the storm.

Dick will be the first to say that this is his fault. Granted… he's aware that he's the first to say something is his fault more often than what he probably should. The point of the matter is, though, is that he's the one who wanted to patrol with Damian, and he's the one who decided to check out the suspicious miniature cargo boat hanging out at what should be unoccupied docks.

Next thing they know, they've found themselves dealing with more gun smugglers than what they expected and soon found themselves restrained with their own handcuffs to two separate poles in the middle of the ship's main deck. What's awful is that their hands are restrained behind their backs.

And that makes it so much harder to keep their grasps as the storm rages.

Water swirls dangerously around his soaked legs, reaching up to his knees at some points. It's even worse for Damian, and Dick's too far to help him.

He can only hope that his emergency signal actually went through before their capture and that help is on the way.

At the rate they're going, sooner or later Damian and/or himself is gonna get swept off their feet by the rain and dislocate their shoulders while the biting cuffs tear their wrists to bloody stumps.

Lightning strikes through the black sky, and thunder rumbles through the very air. The boat tips further to the left than what Dick thinks is safe as his stomach tries to shove everything it has back through his throat.

He swallows it down as the boat straightens and another crashing wave launches over the ship's railings.

He watches Damian struggle against the pressure of the wave. It's another big one, and they're only getting bigger. And somewhere at the back of his mind he knows this boat can handle waves like this. It's built to handle waves like this. It's not going to sink.

But he still can't help but imagine a wave so large it completely goes over Damian's head.

And for a second, he thinks about what the captain of this operation told him when he demanded they at least let Damian stay somewhere safe through the storm. He thinks about the sickening deal said through sneering teeth that could have honestly been a bluff… but Dick didn't want to risk.

"If you want him warm so badly, then he can warm the beds."

Maybe it was a bluff. Maybe when Dick spat in the perverted man's face, he really did doom both himself and his kid to ride out a terrifying oceanic storm.

Thunder roars like an earthquake and the rain pelts into his skin as the wave washes past them and falls off the other side of the boat. The entire structure once again tilts dangerously, and Dick is so focused on not vomiting as his entire sense of gravity shifts that he almost misses his name being screamed above the storm.

He immediately shoots his eyes towards Damian, of which is watching Dick with wide eyes and… and free hands.

The chains in the middle of Damian's bloodied wrists are broken, the links having been pulled apart. The ship jolts and Dick's heart does the same.

"HOLD ON!" He screams.

Another wave crashes over the deck and smacks into the two captives. Water smashes into Dick, causing him to choke and splutter. It feels like he's breathed in more water than son the last hour, but he forced all of that to the back of his mind as he searches desperately for Damian... who is thankfully holding onto the pole.

But it looks like he's doing so just barely, hardly anything to assist keeping him up with the cuffs broken.

And the world decides to be cruel now as another wave immediately assaults them. Thunder crashes and lightning strikes, and by the time Dick can once again try and find Damian…

He's gone. The pole is bare. And Dick can't breathe.

"Damian!?" He shouts, not even bothering to keep in their hero personas. It's not like any criminal could hear him. He can barely hear himself.

No one answers and Dick finds the pain of his heart pounding in his ribcage to be more intense than his motion sickness.

"DAMIAN?!"

He tugs on the cuffs, spluttering water and digging his heels into the slick metal floor. His own cuffs don't budge. He's stuck here. He's stuck here and he has no idea where Damian's gone or if he's even still on the ship.

Time passes. Too much time. Enough time for Dick to force himself to lean against the pole behind him to not collapse from despair and exhaustion;; his voice raw from screaming. He can't... He can't have lost Damian like this. He couldn't have.

Suddenly, something thunks harshly against metal nearby. He whips his head over towards where the control room resides and watches with wide eyes as a black shadow, hardly able to be differentiated from the black sky, pulls up to the side of the cargo ship by a cable tethering between them.

It's the batjet, but sailing on top of the waves instead of riding through the definitely turbulent air.

They've come.

But they've come too late.

Shadowed forms jump off the batjet onto the boat in sequence. They must have some sort of magnetic boots because they hardly even stumble as they make their way towards where Dick is just managing to hold on.

The first person to approach him, he recognizes as Stephanie. He tries to call out to her, but he's cut off when he's nearly drowned by another wave slamming up into his face. Before he knows it, Stephanie is breaking the cuffs holding him hostage and what looks to be Jason is grabbing his arms to keep him steady. Dick coughs water.

"Damian-" he tries to explain. He even tries to struggle out of their grasps, but they don't listen. They don't pause in their mission which is to clearly take him from the deck and into the batjet. "We have-"

A wave washes past their legs, forcing him to clutch onto Steph and Jason as they continue to drag him. He can barely even hang on. His fingers are so numb… he hasn't even noticed… they're so numb and his wrists ache from the strain of the now missing cuffs. If he were without the cuffs and was tasked to hold onto a freezing, thin bar of metal, and stand there against the power of a storm… he might have been knocked off easily.

He wants to cry. He wants to kick and scream. He wants to run from their grasps and hurtle himself off the other side of the boat and search the waters for Damian himself.

But he's rendered helpless as the ship tilts with his stomach, rendered weak and pathetic as Steph and Jason yell at each other through the rain and return to dragging him towards the jet.

Somehow, against all odds, no one shoots at the escaping hostage not his rescuers. Perhaps it's the intensity of the storm, or perhaps they know that if a fight begins now in this weather, neither side will win. Before Dick knows it, he's being manhandled into the jet.

Dick stumbles and groans as hands wrap around his shoulders and drag him all the way inside. Next thing he knows he's being pushed into a chair as a bucket is readily shoved into his arms.

Dick loses everything in his stomach here and now.

He spits and chokes and gags as the jet doors close, making a sudden deafening silence. Apprehension jolt-starts his heart, making him just able to lift his head and watch with horrified eyes as Bruce retracts the cable and begins to move away from the cargo ship.

He shoves the disgusting bucket off from his lap and stumbles to his feet. However, Duke's hands instantly fly to his chest to stop him… and steady him when he almost keels over from his stomach flipping with Bruce's sharp maneuvering.

Bruce knows Dick suffers from motion sickness, especially when it comes to boats. He's even tried to "train" it out of Dick by taking him whale watching every weekend as a kid. Those were the worst months of his life, but thankfully Bruce was forced to stop when Dick tattled on him to Alfred and then locked himself in his room until Bruce knocked on his door and apologized.

But hat's not the point. The point is that Bruce is moving away from Damian. Damian could be- and Dick-

He shoves past Duke, causing the kid to stumble back, and then grabs Bruce by the shoulder. He yanks Bruce away from the controls. The jet practically skids, causing Dick to immediately lose his balance as people all around him shout in outrage. Dick only manages to not fall back and hit his head when Bruce's strong hands latch the suit of his shoulders and pulls Dick into his embrace.

The jet comes to a stop... Or as much as a stop that can exist on angry ocean waters. Rain bombards the roof like hail in that second of silence before the yelling erupts.

"What the fuck, Dick-"

"-what was that?!"

"Are you out of-"

And Dick wants to throw up again. He wants to throw up and die, but all he can do is clutch onto Bruce's suit and squeeze his eyes shut. He… he can't give up now just because of some waves.

He tightens his grasp on Bruce, but doesn't leave his arms. His head is pressed against the bat on his chest. He glares at it as he finally works up the strength to speak.

"-aymi… Damian- we have to g- urk- go b-back-"

He has just a second to turn from Bruce and grab onto the thankfully not toppled over bucket and release another fit of vomit into its contents.

This time it's mostly just gagging and lobs of acid. His gut hurts like he's been stabbed anyway by the time he looks up to glare at everyone for abandoning Dami-

He stills. There... laying on a row of three chairs is Damian, unconscious, dripping wet, but clearly breathing with Tim and Cass sitting beside him… taking care of him.

They must have… they must have grabbed Damian after he fell off the side of the ship, and then came to Dick's rescue. And in Dick's panic and nausea… he never noticed that corner of the jet while he was being shoved inside.

"Fuck," he chokes, and nothing else matters as he scrambles forward to cleave onto Damian. Damian huffs, even in sleep, but remains lax as Dick gathers him into his arms and holds him both as tightly as he dares and as tightly as his numb limbs will allow..

He loses focus then and there from the relief, and somehow, without his full understanding or knowledge, someone manages to coax him into the seats and help him buckle in as Bruce slowly begins to drive the jet on top of the water, more careful this time as it's too dangerous to fly. Damian wakes up halfway to Gotham, assesses that he's in Dick's arms, then lets out a soft, relieved sigh.

Dick holds him closer. And he doesn't let go until Damian falls back asleep and they land inside the cave.

Dick stands up the moment the engine turns off. His legs feel weak and his gut hurts from his constant puking episodes, and there's a pounding headache at the back of his temples. However, when he looks up he finds Bruce standing in his way… like he doesn't quite know what to do with himself.

Then, a shocking thing happens. Bruce takes off his cowl. Gives Dick a hard look. Then pulls Dick into his chest, Damian cradled between the two of them.

A hug. Bruce is… hugging him.

Dick's legs almost give out at the sheer relief of finally being safe, but then Damian is gently taken from his arms as Bruce exits the embrace while Jason and Duke grab onto an arm each before Dick can completely fall over.

He's asleep on his feet by the time the both of them are laid in the medbay. The beds are close enough together for Dick to sleepily reach over and grab Damian's hand.

As Alfred begins to worry about the two of them, Dick finally lets his eyes fall closed.

He falls asleep to the hushed voices of his family.  To the soft snores of Damian. Of a familiar hand being placed in his still damp hair in a way that suggests his other hand is doing the same to Damian.

Dick exhales, and smiles, before he lets himself relax and allows sleep to welcome him into it’s warm arms.