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pedrito-friskito · 2 years ago

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strawberry wine - joel miller x fem!reader

during - part seven

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

tommy takes care of joel as best he can, and you try and make a break for it.

a/n: y’all I am having way too much fun writing this story. part 7 earlier than planned, and tbh I’ll probably post part 8 tomorrow if I can. the inspo is REAL and thank you all for the comments and reblogs and messages and general love and support - you have no idea how happy it makes me!! 🤍

word count: 4.6k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, angst, canon-typical violence and injuries, death, blood, near-death experiences, questionable decisions on the military’s part

✨follow @friskito-library for updates on new works/chapters!✨

Tommy watches his brother fall apart.

It’s one thing after another, and he can’t blame Joel. The world’s ending; everything else is falling apart, it only makes sense that he would too. But still, it hurts. Watching his big brother — the only constant in his life for as long as he can remember — break down, it makes Tommy hurt in a way he can’t fully comprehend. It’s not fair.

He thinks about the soldier, in the days that follow. He’d come up the ridge just as the gunfire sounded, already looking for his brother and niece, never expecting to find them the way that he did. Joel was pleading, already hurt, his hands in the air, as good a white flag as any, and the soldier just didn’t care. It went against everything in Tommy, but when the soldier lifted the gun again, Tommy fired first.

But then…Sarah.

There was so much blood. He should be used to it, being who he is, seeing what he’s seen. But it’s different, it feels different, it sits in the back of his mind and haunts his every step. She was so young. So bright, so good. And then just, gone.

“Tommy, help me!”

He’d never heard Joel like that, so desperate, so lost. The only moment that rivalled it was when they’d been in the truck, Tommy driving, Joel with his cell phone pressed to his ear. Talking to you, asking where you were, if you were safe.

“It’s everywhere,” Joel had said, and Tommy had felt a distinct feeling of helplessness wash through him. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t just in Austin. He focused on the road, tried not to look too closely at the chaos in the distance. Shit was hitting the fan, in every sense.

He tightened his grip on the wheel as Joel continued talking to you. You were hurt, Joel telling you to patch yourself up. “I’m not hanging up until you do.”

Tommy could hear the ache in his brother’s voice. Joel had never let you go, not completely, and Tommy knew it. He didn’t blame Joel for it; having you around was the happiest he’d seen his brother in a long time. He liked you, too, liked your laugh and your sense of humour, the way you looked at Joel like you were seeing him for the first time, every time.

He had to swerve the truck as another car barrelled down the road in the opposite direction. Joel grabbed for the dashboard, phone still glued to his ear. “I’m gonna find you, you hear me? Just get out of Boston and I swear to you, I’m gonna find you!” A pause, and Joel stared at the phone. Tommy could see his brother’s hands shaking. “It’s dead.”

A moment later, the radio — which had been spewing news reports since Joel had picked Tommy up — went silent. Joel tossed his phone onto the truck floor, slammed his fist into the dash a moment later.

“Fuck!”

“She okay?” Tommy asked, and Joel scrubbed a hand over his face. “Joel?”

“Boyfriend attacked her,” Joel grumbled, rubbing his forehead again. “Tried to fuckin’ bite her. She said he’s dead.”

Tommy had balked. “She did that?”

“Dunno,” Joel had replied, and huffed a humourless laugh, the noise almost flat. “Is it fucked up if I say I hope she did?”

Tommy had pressed the gas a little harder, the truck speeding down the road. “Everything’s fucked up, seems like.” Silence hung over them only for a moment, punctuated a moment later by the loud whoosh of flames as a car down the road collided with a telephone pole. Joel cursed under his breath, Tommy kept on driving. “What are we gonna do, Joel?”

“We get Sarah, and we go,” his brother replied, and despite the waver in his voice, he sounded sure. Surer than Tommy felt. “East.”

East, Tommy thought. Boston. You. Like he’d expected anything different. “You really think you can find her?”

“I can sure as hell try.”

The conversation feels like a year ago, instead of the handful of days it has been. Maybe a week; he’s starting to lose track, already. They’ve been holed up for a few hours now, tucked in the garage of an abandoned house. They crossed the state line a few hours back, and so far, Arkansas looks the same as Texas: fucking ravaged. Joel sits on the floor, knees up to his chest, face buried in his arms. Tommy feels antsy.

“I’m gonna go look inside, see if there’s anything worth taking. You good?”

“Yeah.”

Seems like every neighbourhood they come across has been evacuated, the houses all empty. They have guns; he already had his own, and he’d swiped the rifle from the soldier that had attacked Joel and Sarah. Though he was quick to give Joel his, take the soldier’s for himself. Something about Joel touching the weapon that had killed Sarah made Tommy’s gut twist. He didn’t like it either, but it was out of necessity.

The house has obviously been picked through, toppled furniture and broken glass as far as he can tell, but they get lucky: a first aid kit, a mostly full bottle of whiskey, and some cans of beans. Tommy grabs it all, heads up the stairs. Clearly an older couple, but there’s a few men’s jackets in one of the closets, a pair of work boots, plain t-shirts. He takes the lot, offering the boots to Joel when he gets back to the garage. “These your size?”

His brother takes the boots with a flat expression, pulling the laces to peer at the sole. “About there, yeah. Don’t need ‘em though.”

“Take ‘em with us, for when you do,” Tommy counters, offering Joel one of the t-shirts next. “You should change.”

“M’fine.”

Tommy hooks the gun over his head, setting it on the ground beside him as he crouches in front of Joel. “You’re covered in blood,” he says, and his brother snatches the t-shirt. “Need to change your bandage, too.”

“And what exactly do you want me to—” Joel starts, but shuts up when Tommy tosses the first aid kit to him.

“Need help?” he asks as Joel gets to his feet, pulls his stained t-shirt off, tosses it aside. They’d found a half empty kit in a cafe back in Austin, dressed Joel’s wound before they took off completely. Joel was lucky, just a graze, but Tommy knows it must hurt like hell, and it’ll leave a scar, a reminder of that night, of what was lost.

Joel winces as he pulls of the old bandage, tossing it in the same direction as the t-shirt. “Don’t suppose you found any water in there?” He digs through the first aid kit. “No antiseptic.”

“No water,” Tommy confirms, but holds up the bottle of whiskey. “Just this.”

It’s not ideal, using the alcohol to clean the graze — and Joel nearly puts his fist through the wall despite the healthy sip he takes before Tommy wipes a piece of gauze damp with the whiskey over the wound — but it’ll work. They have to make do.

Joel sinks back onto the concrete floor once the wound is redressed, the new t-shirt pulled over his head. He takes the whiskey with him, and Tommy sits beside his brother, both of them with rifles in their laps. They sip the bottle in turn, and Tommy savours the burn as it slides down his throat, warmth spreading through his chest. It loosens his tongue, makes him regret the question the second it’s out of his mouth.

“You think she made it?” He knows he doesn’t have to call you by name. Not now.

“I have to,” is his brother’s only response.

They stop you at the gate.

You don’t know what you’re thinking, but after staking out the giant metal fence for a few hours, you at least know that trying to sneak over is only going to result in a bullet finding a home somewhere it shouldn’t. The soldiers were firing at anything that made a break for the gate, and running full-force didn’t make you brave, it made you stupid. It made you look like one of them. Infected. Mindless. Blood-thirsty. A few have come sprinting up to the post you’ve been watching, and the soldiers have put them down without batting an eye.

As you’ve watched, a few groups of people have approached the post. All the same, their hands in the air, desperation in their voices, carried to you on the smoke-tinged breeze. Please help us. You’ve watched them get directed away from the post, towards a still-standing building a few yards from the gate, where a military-issue tent is set up. Some of them walk back out, are directed towards an armoured truck parked along the gate, and then the truck disappears, only for a new one to reappear in its stead a few minutes later. It’s like clockwork, but only some end up in the trucks.

Others are carried out the back of the tent, bodies dumped into one of the pits left by the bombing. It makes your skin crawl.

It takes a while, lacking the confidence to put yourself in the line of fire when you could just keep hiding in the city. The soldiers might find you eventually — if the Infected didn’t find you first — but if you could just keep going, maybe there was a break in the fence somewhere, a way out besides what lies ahead of you. But finally, after a few hours of squatting in the rubble, your limbs aching from staying pressed against brick, you step out of the alley, and put your hands in the air. You’ve pulled down the sleeves of the hoodie you’re wearing, letting it cover the bandage around your arm, and you grip the cuffs with your fingers as you raise your arms.

“I’m not infected!”

A flash of movement, and the barrels of at least ten rifles are pointed directly at you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, bile rising in the back of your throat. A suitable reaction, you think, and you swallow back the fear that makes you want to run. It’ll only get you killed that much faster.

“Name!” one of the soldier’s shouts. You can’t tell who; they’re all wearing helmets, visors covering their faces, turning it into a sea of darkness staring back at you. Your fingers flex, and you call you name back.

“I need to leave.”

One of them starts laughing. Another two look at each other, sharing a look you can’t suss out. A few lower their guns, and the prickle along your spine fizzles slightly. A visor lifts, revealing a soot-streaked face, a grim expression. “Why on earth would you wanna do that?”

“My family is in Texas,” you say, your voice surprisingly strong, if not a little thready from the smoke. “I have to go find them.”

“You’re gonna walk halfway across the country,” a faceless voice asks, “with a baseball bat? Girl, you don’t have a hope in hell.”

“Beats sitting around here, waiting to die,” you throw back, and the soldier that had lifted his visor lifts his brow. “Let me pass.”

“Can’t do that,” he replies, and steps up in front of you. He’s got a strange face, eyes a little too dark, hair hidden by the helmet, a scar on his mouth. Something about him reminds you of Dean, but a much harder version, his face more angular, the voice slightly deeper. “No one gets out of the city, we have orders.”

“You can’t hold me hostage here,” you start, stepping towards him. Your hands are still in the air. “My family is out there, I need to—”

“No one gets out,” another soldier interrupts. “FEDRA’s orders.”

Your brow creases. “FEDRA?”

“Federal Disaster Response Agency,” the strange-faced soldier answers.

“So the military is taking over?”

“I never said that.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Just let me go, please? I can’t stay here, my family—”

“Is in Texas,” the soldier replies, nodding along. He hefts his gun slightly, adjusting his grip, and you don’t miss the meaning, the silent threat behind it. “And you’re here, in Boston. Now you don’t have a car, or any real weapons, and we have orders. You’re not going anywhere.”

You bite back the protest that crawls up your throat. If you’re getting out, it’s not through here. “Then where am I supposed to go?”

“There’s a shelter,” he tells you, “in the mall. There’s food, water, beds. It’s temporary, but it’s safe.”

“Temporary, like the gate?”

He gives you a long look, then gestures towards the tent you’ve been watching them shuffle people through. “Let’s get you checked out, and then we’ll get you there.”

You match his stare, setting your jaw, digging your heels in slightly. The muzzle of his rifle dips just slightly, and his eyes pinch, narrowing at you.

“I’ll only ask nicely once.”

Heart in your throat, you drop your hands, and when he gestures towards the tent again, you go. Every single part of you is shaking as you head for the canvas structure, and once you’re inside, it’s no different. It’s shockingly clean, a metal table in the middle, a smaller one to the side. “Put your bag there,” the soldier orders, that familiar stern military tone, pointing to the bigger table. “The bat, too.”

You do as you’re told, seeing from the corner of your eye that he’s still got both hands on his gun. “I’m keeping the bat,” you say over your shoulder, pulling it out from where you’d slid it between the straps of the bag, resting against your lower back. The metal rings when you set it on the table. “For the record.”

“Never said you couldn’t keep it, did I?”

“You want me to go to that shelter in the mall,” you say, sliding the bag off your shoulders, placing it next to the bat, and then turning back to the soldier, “with every other terrified person in this city, and you expect me to believe you’re gonna let me walk in with a weapon?”

The soldier’s jaw goes tight, eyes even tighter. “Strip.”

“Excuse me?”

“Take your clothes off,” he says, clearly getting exasperated. “I might let you keep the bat, but there’s no way I’m letting you into the mall shelter knowing you’ve been bitten. Strip.”

“Bitten?” you repeat, your mind sparking at the new information. “Is that how this is spreading?” To appease him, hoping he’ll give you a bit more information, you pull the hoodie off, disentangling your arms slowly. “That’s what’s turning people into those—”

The hoodie comes off, revealing your bandaged shoulder and forearm, and the gun is pointed back in your face again, a soft click reaching your ears. “You’re injured.”

“Y’know, I usually like to at least know a guy’s name before he sees me half-naked.”

He ignores you. “You’re injured.”

You heave a breath, tucking the edge of the gauze around your arm back into place. “You dropped bombs on this city. I dare you to find someone out there who isn’t injured.”

The soldier just stares at you. You just stare back.

“Take the bandages off,” he orders, and your hands curl into fists. “I need to see.”

“Tell me your name first,” you counter, still holding his gaze.

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“I’m aware; you’re the one holding the gun. But I also know you’ve been taking bodies out of this tent more than you’ve been sending people to the shelter. So, again, tell me your name.”

He leans back slightly, takes a deep breath, eyes darting to the side before meeting yours again. “Corporal Nicholas Cowan, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?” you repeat, almost laughing. “That’s a bit much, but—”

“The bandages.”

“Okay, okay.”

Carefully, you peel back the gauze on your shoulder. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches or anything, and you’d slathered it with some kind of ointment in the first aid kit. It still looks pretty awful, and the tape along the edge of the bandage has left little indents in your skin, but it’s definitely healing. Your arm is next, that wound fresher, and it starts to bleed as soon as you pull the gauze away. Cowan gives you a new piece of gauze a moment later, tossing it onto the table between you rather than handing it right to you. “What happened?”

“I was in the bookstore, down on South Street, when you all decided to start dropping bombs. Fucking lucky a bookshelf didn’t fall on my head.”

He still has the gun pointed at you, though the grip is slightly more relaxed, and he circles you slowly, eyes glued to your shoulder. “Those look like claw marks.”

“That’s because they are.”

“So that happened before the bombs.”

“It did.”

“I’m supposed to shoot, the moment I see anything like that. I have orders.”

“It’s not a bite.”

“I know that.” He swallows so hard you can see his throat bob. “They haven’t figured it all out. The bite seems to make it happen faster, but I don’t know if—”

“I’ll tell you what, Corporal,” you interrupt, reaching for your bag, pulling the first aid kit out and fishing out new bandages, “I start to turn into one of those things, and I give you my full permission to blow my fucking brains out.” Cowan balks, his eyes widening for a moment as he stares back at you. “But for the record, it’s been seven days, and I’m still here, faculties intact. So, politely, go fuck yourself, and just let me through the gate.”

He doesn’t.

Cowan lets you redress, once your bandages have been hastily rewrapped; you’d protested and he told you they’d give you proper treatment at the shelter. Once that was done, you grabbed your pack — and the bat, which Cowan barely seemed to notice — and he grabbed you roughly by the arm, dragging you out of the tent and steering you towards one of the armoured trucks parked at the fence.

You’re all but stuffed inside, and Cowan gets into the passenger’s seat, a masked soldier behind the wheel. “The mall,” he says simply, and the soldier just nods, and the engine rumbles to life, pulling away from the chain link and heading back into the city.

You keep the bat in your lap as they drive, your eyes glued to the window, to the mess that now only partially resembles Boston. You’d seen enough of the destruction running through the streets, but the truck takes a few pathways you hadn’t. Some roads aren’t as destroyed, obviously not targeted by the bombs, and the asphalt is even, still intact. There’s no getting past the bodies, however, and that pulls your eyes away, staring down at your bruised and dirty hands, wrapped around the bat.

When the truck stops outside the mall, the driver doesn’t get out. You lift your head then, taking in the space around you. It’s more of the same, but the mall looks mostly undisturbed, except for the broken windows, the burned displays. Cowan slides out of the passenger’s side, pulls open your door a moment later. “Let’s go.”

There are three more soldiers standing at the entrance, and as Cowan starts to lead you through, one of them stops you, lifting a hand. “You can’t take that in there,” the soldier says, pointing to the bat. “Give it here.”

“No.”

Cowan sighs, turning back to you, waving off the soldier. “C’mon, just—”

“No,” you say again, your voice harder. “You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m walking around this city without it.”

“You’re safe in the mall,” Cowan says, nearly rolling his eyes at you, but you just lift a brow. “It’s a shelter, and we’re patrolling from the outside.” He points over his shoulder, and sure enough, you see a few more armoured trucks rolling across the street, armed soldiers trailing behind it. Like it makes a difference.

You almost laugh. “Nowhere is safe anymore.” You tighten your grip on the bat. “You really think your chain link fence is gonna save us from those things?”

He gives you another one of those hard stares, but relents, waving off the other soldiers and grabbing the handle on your bag, all but dragging you through the entrance. “If she attacks someone, it’s on you, Cowan!” one of the soldier’s shouts, and he just grumbles under his breath.

“Do me a favour,” he says to you as he releases you, making you stumble a step before he falls into step beside you, “don’t be more trouble than you’re worth.”

“And what am I worth, Corporal?”

“You’re alive, and you’re not one of them,” he says, and you don’t miss the thread of…is that hope, in his voice? “So that makes you worth something.”

He’s quiet, the rest of the way. There’s no electricity, the overhead fluorescents dark, and Cowan clicks on a flashlight, lighting your path deeper into the mall. There’s the whir of generators, as you get closer, big lights that looks like they were taken from construction sites. You see the food court has been turned into a makeshift hospital, and Cowan tells you the big department store on the main level is where you’ll sleep, for the time being.

There aren’t that many people, which makes your throat go a little thick. How many people have died, how many have turned, how many made it out of Boston before they put up the fence?

Cowan takes your arm again as you walk towards the food court, calling for someone as you get closer. “Deanna! I got one for you.”

An older lady, maybe late fifties, pokes her head out from behind one of the triage curtains. Her face is both kind and harsh at the same time, bright green eyes, grey-streaked hair pulled into a long ponytail, blood-stained scrubs and a tool belt around her waist that’s filled with medical instruments instead of actual tools. It almost makes you laugh.

“Must be special,” she says, her voice a little gravelly as she approaches you, wiping her hands on her pants. “You don’t usually escort them all the way down here, Nicky.” Her eyes drop to the bat in your hands and her brows raise. “Or let them come in armed.”

Once she’s close enough, Cowan releases you and takes Deanna by the arm, steering her off to the side. You stand there awkwardly, the bat banging against your leg. Your forearm is a little sore, and you’re half-sure it’s soaked through the bandages you’d haphazardly retied after Cowan’s inspection. You glance over at the pair a few times, seeing them both shooting you looks before turning back to each other. Deanna looks confused, then upset, then almost forgiving. You can’t quite figure out Cowan’s expression.

After a few minutes, she just nods, and Cowan turns on his heel, heading back in the direction you came, leaving you alone. Deanna gives you a once-over as she walks towards you again, putting a warm hand on your back and starting to steer you towards one of the curtains. “Let’s get you cleaned up, honey.”

She leads you behind one of the curtains, then another, and once you’re in the little makeshift room, she pulls another curtain into place. “Nicky said we need to be quick about this,” she says, leaning up on her toes to peer over the curtains, assumedly to see if anyone is coming. “And quiet.”

“Okay.”

You let her take your bag, set it on the chair that’s set to the side. You’re reluctant to let go of the bat, but when you finally let her take it, she puts it beside you on the cot. “You’ve been out there this whole time?” she asks, her voice just above a whisper. You nod. “Even the bombs?” Another nod. “Show me where you’re hurt.”

You hold your breath as you peel off the hoodie. You were right, your arm has bled through the bandage, and your shoulder aches with the movement. Deanna doesn’t say a word at first, her brow furrowed as she looks you over.

She tends to your arm first, wiping the blood from your skin, using some sort of glue to close the wound before she wraps it in fresh gauze. She circles you slowly, just like Cowan had, and you hear her sharp inhale when she sees your shoulder. “What have we here?” She wipes at more of the blood, and the sting makes you tense, your hand twitching towards the bat at your side. “What did that?”

“…boyfriend.”

You look over your shoulder to see her staring at you, a look that toes the line between sympathy and fear on her face. “Was he…”

You give a slight nod. “He was.”

“And is he…?”

“Not anymore.”

Her brows raise. “You did that?”

Another nod. “I did that.”

She blows out a breath, shaking her head side to side. “Damn, girl. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

It’s the first time you’ve actually laughed since your birthday.

They give you some clothes, stuff that actually fits, pilfered from one of the stores. Toiletries even, and you spend far too much time brushing your teeth. No showers, unfortunately, but the pack of baby wipes you’re offered instead makes up for it. It nearly makes you cry to see your skin clean of the dust and ash and blood.

They give you food, too. A grocery bag filled with non-perishables, more granola bars and cans of soup and whatnot. You try not to chug an entire bottle of water when they give you a second bag filled with drinks; not just water, but sports drinks, random cans of pop, clearly raided from the mall vending machines. And a hot meal, courtesy of one of the food court hot plates. It’s some kind of stew, noodles and meat and veggies, and for a moment, all you can think about is the Thai food that was waiting on your kitchen counter.

Feels like a lifetime ago.

Deanna walks you to the department store, gives your name to one of the soldier’s standing guard. He points you in the right direction, and she goes with you, a steady hand on your back, until you find the cot you’ve been assigned, tucked in the corner of the section where all the towels would have been, the displays still up on the walls. “We took them all already,” she tells you, giving you a half-grin as she picks up the blanket on your cot, unfolding the fabric. “Those extra-plush suckers make great bandages.”

You’re quiet, tucking your bag and your food and clothing under the cot. They’d refilled your first aid kit, too. Your knees are almost shaking as you lower yourself onto the edge of the bed, and the relief that washes over you is almost overwhelming. Tears spring in your eyes, but you don’t have the energy to wipe them away.

“Get some sleep, honey,” she tells you, and puts a soft hand on your shoulder as you slip sideways, collapsing onto the pillow. “You’ll be safe. Sleep as much as you need.”

She pulls the blankets over you, and it’s silly, but you clutch the bat to your chest. You’d wiped it down, too, cleaned the blood and dirt from the metal. Sleep takes hold as soon as you let your eyes close, and you pray no nightmares follow.

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#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #comment reply #kay talks to people

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christmasbarbie-wp · 7 months ago

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DAYLIGHT -- chapter one

--#: 838 words

summary: in which the new child services agent falls (quite literally) for the FBI's boy genius or in which the FBI's boy genius helps bandage up his sweet co-worker.

pairing: spencer reid x male!oc (cosmo bennett)

Silent rustling filled Spencer's ears as he peered at his bosses anxious movements over the rim of his sunglasses.

His hazel orbs had settled on the same page ever since Hotch refused to remove his eyes from his watch, ''hey pretty boy, any clue why Hotch hasn't moved from his watch.'' the genius spun in his seat to look at his co-worker, ''the child service team have agents who were meant to be here... an hour ago.''

The screeching halt of car wheels echoed through the quiet desert followed by a loud car door slam. From the all black vehicle emerged a man in his early thirties decked head to toe in baby pink, a bag topped with stuffed animals dangling off his shoulder. His beautiful blue orbs paired with his fluffy, blonde locks made him look like a disney prince. Cosmo Bennett was the definition of gorgeous, or at least that's what he was always told from a young age. Trailed after by a copper haired woman who seemingly didn't know how to button up her shirt as everyone could spot her lacey, scarlet bra. A digusted look sitting on her face as her shadow coloured boots hit the floor, ''I hate the fucking desert. There's sand bloody everywhere and if i get bitten by some fucking lizzard then Mallory is dead.''

The team of FBI agents watched as the woman continued to spew out complaints, ''andy, you know Mallory doesn't like it when you swear around children. They have delicated ears and anyhow I think that man's waiting for us.'' Cosmo pointed to Hotch who finally looked relieved, ''those are the child services agents?'' Emily quizzed placing her coffee down on the table.

''indeed they are, i'm not one to judge but you can see up her shirt.'' Emily continued gesturing to Andromeda, ''and him, well he's actually quite cute other than the odd obsession with pink.'' ''oh and he's just so handsome. Look at those charming blue eyes. Their full of warmth and happiness.'' JJ commented observing Cosmo.

Cosmo picked at the sleeves of his pink sweater. A silent attempt to control his off-the-wall, bouncy energy, ''are you alright Agent Bennett.'' Hotch noticed the man's display of habit.

''well, Mallory thinks I'm too energetic so she tells me when meeting new people to just focus on something else so that I don't get over-excited and start rambling.'' Cosmo offered a warm smile to the montonous man.

The copper-haired woman snickered to herself, watching as Cosmo distracted himself by watching a lizzard running across the sandy scenery, ''she's got a point sunshine...you are literally the most energetic human being i've ever met and i've got a four year daughter. Trust me Agent Hotchner, i don't want to be here but Mallory told me I had to babysit him because last time we left him alone he wandered off into a cat cafe and we couldn't find him for two straight hours.'' Andromeda stopped seeing Cosmo petting the top of the lizzards head, ''Cosmo put the bloody lizzard down now.'' Cosmo slowly set the lizzard down with a pout on his face.

''my team is over there if you would like to introduce yourselves to them.'' Hotch suggested while point to the group of darkly dressed people.

Andromeda hated talking to new people, especially ones who gave her judgy looks hence why she brought Cosmo everywhere with her, ''hello, you must by the rest of the Bureau, I'm Andromeda MacDonald and this is...''

''Cosmo Bennett, it's wonderful to be working with you.'' Cosmo interupted going to shake Spencer's hand.

''Cosmo, darling your hand's bleeding... how on earth have you managed that from the car to here? We've not even been here for an hour yet.'' Andromeda quickly passed the dirty blonde at tissue at the sight of blood dripping down his hands.

''I don't know, I'm quite a clumsy person. No problem easily fixed, I can just get a plaster.'' Cosmo reached into his jammed bag.

The hazel eyed genius watched as the man struggled to get what he was looking for, ''you guys go meet Hotch, I'll help Agent Bennett.'' Spencer dismissed the rest of the group, moving to crouch down in front of Cosmo.

''thank you, you don't have to help me you know.'' Cosmo giggled as Spencer cleaned his cut with an anti-septic wipe.

If you were to ask Spencer Reid what his first opinion on Cosmo Bennett was he could only use one word. Angel. Well that and sunshine considering how bright Cosmo's smile and eyes gleamed. Cosmo was enchanting in Spencer's mind, from his bubbly personality to his piercing greyish-blue eyes. He just adored this man he'd never met but then again, Cosmo loved Spencer just from their first interaction, ''I'm Spencer, it's nice to finally meet the best social and childcare services have to offer.''

''it's nice to finally meet you too doctor Reid... wait Mallory called me her best.''

#fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #wattpad #male oc

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easyezsworld · 11 months ago

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"Peter?" The teenager softly calls out, starting to jog towards the brunette when he sees him leaning against the concrete wall of the building.

The older man was in rough shape, to say the least. His spider-suit torn and dirty, his mask nowhere to be seen. His hair was everywhere, some strands falling over his bruised face.

"Hey, Miles.. seems like they've finally gotten me—" Peter manages to choke out before coughing up nearly a puddle of blood in front of him.

"That's.. that's not good." The injured man says, softly groaning at the pain before leaning his head back against the wall while softly grunting to himself.

"Peter, come on! We gotta leave before we get caught!" Miles hisses, advising Peter to run away with him and get to a better and safer place so that he could patch him up.

But all that changed when those dark brown eyes looked up at him, filled with guilt and remorse. Miles didn't like where this was going. He had seen that same face one too many times.

Miles shook his head, an indication of determination and the fact that he would not let go of Peter. They've known each other for less than a decade, but they have bonded so well.

Miles could not lose him.

The younger male stood up, trying to pull the injured Spider-Man up with him. Peter could only dryly chuckle as more blood spewed and slipped past his chapped lips, the crimson substance rolling down his chin.

"Give it up, kid.. I'm not going back." His hopelessness made Miles try even harder, his grunts as Miles tried to pull Peter, proving that he was genuinely trying to bring Peter back with him.

"Peter, please. Don't do this." Miles was practically in tears, his bottom lip trembling as he desperately tried to convince Peter to follow him back to a safer place.

Peter suddenly pulled him down next to him before using the tiniest amount of strength left in his fragile body to wrap his arms around the teenager. Miles was caught off-guard, his eyes widening slightly before he crumbled in his arms and started to cry.

"It's okay, Miles." Peter croons, a reassuring smile on his cracked lips as he ran his boney fingers through Miles' raven coloured afro. Though, both Miles and Peter knew that the end was near for the older man.

The boy could not utter a word, sobs escaping his lips as tears ran down his tanned cheeks. He held onto Peter's torn up suit, sobbing into the older's chest like there was no tomorrow.

"Peter.." Miles could only whimper as he continued to cry and wail into the man's chest, his whole body shaking with sadness and frustration.

First Uncle Aaron, now Peter? The poor boy could not handle this much. He was only 15. He was at an age where he should be hanging out with friends, not crying into a man's chest, and hoping that he would not leave him like how everyone else did.

Peter could only rub the boy's back in small, comforting circles. Letting him know that he was still there, even if it was not for long.

"I'm sorry." Peter could only whisper, silent tears of his own starting to roll down his pale cheeks as he started to feel his breath getting more shallow than it had ever been before.

"Take care. Love ya', kiddo."

Slowly, Miles could feel Peter's body getting colder and not giving off that familiar welcoming aura as it was replaced with one of grief and loss. The boy could only cry, holding onto his corpse in an unforgiving grip. He felt defeated, like nothing was in store for him at all.

That was it, Peter was dead.

Miles couldn't do anything about it.

#spiderverse #miles morales #into the spiderverse #atsv #across the spider verse #peter b parker #angst #fanfic #Spotify

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demigodforfend · 2 years ago

Text

Twilight of the Demigods: Forfend Edition - Session 10

"You don't understand the power you're playing with, intruder," the Atroxian cultist threatened as he dragged his blade across his already bleeding hand.

Deep red fire burst from the wound and blazed in the palm of his hand. He launched the unholy fireball at Kagoshi.

Kagoshi braced himself.

The fire struck his raised arms, burning at his scarred skin. It petered out with minimal damage.

The cultist ground his teeth and glanced at his surroundings. He backed up two steps, then turned on his heel and ran for the exit.

Kagoshi snarled. "Coward!" he yelled as his muscles bulged, stacking atop one another. He rapidly doubled in size.

Flames burst from his collar and engulfed his head. His scars glowed deathly red.

The cultist gaped, his breath stolen from him by shock.

"This is where your faith has led you!" Kagoshi's voice boomed so deeply it shook the very air. He roared again as he sank fully into his animalistic rage, sounding more like an earthquake than a mortal creature.

Kagoshi wrapped his massive hand around one of the maw demons squealing and panicking at his side.

He crushed its head, hauled the beast into the air, and reared back to throw it.

Kagoshi unleashed the creature with unbelievable force. It rocketed through the air at breakneck speed.

The cultist yelped as he tried to dive out of the way. He wasn't quick enough.

The maw demon crashed into him, slamming him into the wall and splattering violently upon impact.

Blood and acid spewed everywhere.

The cultist collapsed into the mess of flesh and teeth. He wheezed desperately for breath. He couldn't stand.

The cultist's own blood spilled from his mouth as he coughed.

Kagoshi bellowed murderously, fire spewing from his jaws. He slammed his hand down on the second maw demon before it could flee.

Kagoshi hurled his next victim through the air with easily as much force as the first.

The cultist pressed his hand to his bleeding face and fire erupted across his body.

He disappeared just as the demon would've crashed into him.

Bone crunched and scattered in shards. The maw demon, its bulbous body spilling blood and internal organs out of its gaping wounds, gurgled weakly. Somehow, it wasn't quite dead.

The cultist reappeared in a surge of flames near the center of the room. He swore under his breath as he got his bearings. He was much further from his exit now than he'd have liked.

Kagoshi roared like thunder and dashed towards the downed demon with heavy thudding steps.

Forfend tore its gaze away to bat at the maw demons trying to get past its shield.

Not far to its side, Melzaryn lifted his staff like a crossbow and slid past the two maw demons snapping at him.

One caught his arm. He bashed it off and preemptively whacked shut the mouth of the second.

He pointed his crossbow high into the air, spinning his staff's chamber. It locked into an empty vial which filled rapidly with greenish magical acid.

A green bolt fled from the tip of the staff as Melzaryn skidded from underneath the stalactite above.

The acrid ooze blasted a chunk out of the precarious rock. The stalactite tilted sideways, further from Melzaryn.

There was a sharp crunching crack as the acid sizzled further into the stone.

The ceiling rattled and the stalactite fell.

The maw demons scrambled in opposite directions. Neither cleared the falling debris.

The massive rock shattered over them, crushing them both beneath crumbling stone.

One hauled itself out of the wreckage, hissing and spitting.

The other barely managed to get two claws over the edge of the stone pile. It couldn't force itself to move anymore.

Melzaryn backed further away from the demons and held his staff at the ready.

Kairi fired another shot at the mass of kruthik eggs. Magical energy burst across the surface and shredded it open, spilling the blackened eggs across the cave floor.

She took to the air and soared towards Forfend. She landed behind the maw demon clawing at its Orison Aegis.

"Get off him," she yelled, then switched into Celestial, "you bitch!"

Kairi brought her staff down hard. It struck the demon's eye stalks with a meaty thwack, dizzying it. Purple glitter burst out of its wounds.

Forfend straightened, its chest glowing red at the unexpected foul language. It wasn't certain it had ever sworn in Celestial before. The sudden vulgarity surprised it.

"Don't worry, Forfend! I'll stay with you until these fuckers are all dead!" Kairi promised, switching back to Common. She grinned and winked, flashing a peace sign.

"Thank the gods," Forfend replied and returned its attention to the snarling hive lord and all its chittering kin.

The hive lord raised itself high into the air on its serrated legs and wailed. The gem in its forehead sank further into its skull.

A flash of startling blue highlighted every nerve in the monster's body.

The hive lord partially collapsed, shuddering.

Profane magic exited its body and culminated into an ominous blue web of energy surrounding it.

It picked itself back up and screeched.

The same frightening blue energy wrapped around one of the kruthiks at its side.

The bug disappeared with a pop and reappeared next to Forfend.

Forfend jolted, but the dazed insect hadn't caught its bearings yet.

It hissed, reeling from the sudden teleportation.

The shimmering blue shield around the hive lord suddenly closed in. The massive monster disappeared.

"It's gone," Kairi gasped. "Not invisible. It's gone!"

Forfend motioned to its Spiritual Weapon.

The hammer twirled and slammed down on the back of the kruthik next to it.

The insect squealed, bristled, and twisted around to bite the hammer.

The magical force parried and danced in the air, taunting the angry kruthik.

Forfend pulled Old Chip's mystery potion from its belt and glanced over the thing.

The bubbling purple substance looked caught right in-between two more common potions Forfend had seen Old Chip make: a red magic restorative and a blue explosive. If it had to guess, this particular potion could swing toward either option.

With that in mind, Forfend threw it.

The potion sailed through the air, over the heads of the monsters surrounding Forfend, and directly into the rubble pile Melzaryn had created.

Glass shattered.

There was a quiet hiss. Purple smoke rose.

The maw demons barked and huffed at the new disturbance.

Forfend raised its shield.

Suddenly, a blinding flash lit the cavern like daylight.

A sound like a thousand arrows whizzing past echoed through the cavern. Arcane energy sizzled in the charged air.

Forfend peeked over its shield. Its allies and enemies alike were blinking spots from their eyes.

One of the maw demons caught in the explosion was little more than slag. The other careened wildly across the cavern, snapping its jaws and screaming in blind fury.

It was charging toward no one in particular. Its eyes glowed with lavender residue. It tripped and fell over a scattered stone.

"I owe Old Chip a very nice dinner," Forfend hummed to itself.

The discombobulated maw demons in front of it tinged uselessly off the Orison Aegis.

The divine magic coursing through the shield stung them.

The kruthik bit into Forfend's leg. The stone refused to give, damaging the insect's mandibles while Forfend remained unharmed.

Across the field, the heavily damaged maw demon Kagoshi was soundly thrashing vomited. Blood and acid gurgled from its nearly toothless mouth.

Kagoshi crushed it beneath his heel.

The cultist ran from Kagoshi as quickly as his legs could carry him. Blood spilled from his mouth with every haggard breath.

The two kruthiks not distracted by Forfend's taunting Spiritual Weapon arched their backs and launched spikes at Forfend and Kairi.

Kairi pulled up her mystical cloak. The spines clattered to the floor as soon as they touched the fabric.

Forfend simply let the spikes bounce off its stone flesh.

The Atroxian cultist doubled over wheezing. He assessed his surroundings and ground his teeth.

Already, Kagoshi was baring down on him again.

The cultist pulled a forked metal rod from his bag and knocked some of the rust off it.

He flipped it and jammed the strange device into the ground.

Dark energy surged up and formed Abyssal symbols in the air. They spun around the cultist faster and faster and faster.

The cultist spread his arms and laughed, though it slowly turned to a cough. "What a beautiful specimen you are," he admired Kagoshi's hulking demonic form. "This will do nicely. Do not worry, Kagoshi. Knowledge of what you are shall spread."

He disappeared into the swirling black letters just as Kagoshi tried to close his fist around him.

Kagoshi stared at his empty hand, punched the ground, and roared.

He stalked back to the downed maw demon, hauled up the messy hunk of spilling flesh and dragged it towards Forfend's end of the room.

He reeled back and violently hurled the demon at one of the snapping kruthiks.

It blasted through the deep red fire and crashed into the insect with a hearty crunch.

Both creatures rolled and sprawled across the floor, scattering into bleeding bits of bone and armored shell.

The nearest kruthik jolted as sharp shrapnel dug into its carapace.

Kagoshi slammed his foot down hard enough to crack the stone beneath him and screamed murderously into the now quaking cavern.

The kruthiks scrambled over one another in an attempt to flee.

Even the demons flinched and hunkered down.

Suddenly, a resonating thrum filled the cavern.

The hive lord returned in a burst of bluish-black energy.

The gem in its forehead sank deeper, disappearing from sight.

Blue energy coursed through its entire body until it hummed with barely contained magical energy.

It hissed and charged straight for Forfend, its massive claws raised.

Forfend threw up its shield, but it was too slow.

The claw came straight down on Forfend's head with deadly aim.

It braced for impact.

Silence.

The entire cavern held its breath.

Forfend hazarded an upward glance.

The hive lord's massive pedipalp was caught in a tiny warble in the air. It backed up, yanking its leg back.

The appendage wouldn't budge. The beast was thoroughly trapped.

The warble expanded into a proper vortex, hauling the hive lord's claw further into its swirling folds.

The hive lord screeched and dug its serrated claws into the cave floor.

That did nothing to stop it from getting dragged further and further into the warp.

Suddenly, it lost its footholds and whipped fully into the portal, disappearing with a startling vwoop.

Forfend stared blankly and slowly turned to Melzaryn.

Melzaryn clasped his glowing staff with one hand and threw a thumbs up towards Forfend with the other.

Forfend felt steam rush as some of the tension released from its body. It returned the gesture, genuinely grateful to its ally.

The massive insect reappeared in the middle of the Abyssal flames.

The hive lord wailed, its body charring and hissing as the flames hungrily devoured it.

The fire surged so deeply red it darkened the room.

The crackling soared in volume and mania until it sounded like the cackling insanity of the damned.

Every monster in the room froze and turned to stare at the fire. The malicious red danced in the reflections of their eyes.

In unison, the maw demons and kruthiks all dashed into the fire and burned away with barely a squeak.

The egg sacs burst all around the room. Immature and under-formed infant kruthiks wiggled their way into the fire as fast as their malformed legs could drag them.

"What are they doing?" Kairi panicked.

What's happening?!" Callan yelled as he slid into the room. "They all just stopped and went underground! Did we win? Is it over?"

Forfend slowly, jerkily shook its head.

The juvenile kruthiks Callan had been fighting tunneled out of the dirt right by the baleful fire and scampered into it just the way every other creature had.

An unsettling heavy aura engulfed the cavern.

A rockfall tumbled in Forfend's chest. It knew what this presence was. It hadn't felt such an ominous and threatening air since it reawakened, but it would never forget the horror greater demons thrust upon everyone in their vicinity.

A powerful Atroxian monstrosity had been summoned. It was coming.

Soon.

They had to make use of what little time they had to prepare.

Kagoshi ran over, his glowing red eyes shockingly clear. "What happened?" he rumbled.

"This ritual was supposed to surround the whole city," Melzaryn noted, studying the Abyssal runes. "They didn't finish it, but the part that just went off is definitely going to summon something big and nasty right on top of us."

"We have just summoned a greater demon," Forfend managed.

Brightcrossing was in horrible danger. Its friends were in horrible danger. It was in horrible danger.

The hive lord's blackened corpse cracked. Blasphemous darkness spilled from its body.

Forfend pressed its hand over its chest and pulled forth divine energy, restoring its magic reserves.

It knelt and pressed its runic forehead to the top of the Orison Aegis.

"Fornax, Apostle of Iron," Forfend slipped into Celestial as it began its prayer, "Hear me please, creator and ally against Atroxian forces. We are outmatched and many are in danger. I call upon your assistance now more than ever. Please. I am injured, my friends are injured. All our magics falter with exhaustion."

Forfend felt its metal core drop in its chest as the full realization of their dire situation sank deep into its stone body.

"Innocent mortals will die if we cannot stop this demon. We will try. Desperately, we will try. But we need help. Please answer my prayer. Grant us strength. Grant us protection."

Cold silence filled the room despite the raging fire.

Forfend felt Kagoshi's broad hand slip a healing potion off its belt.

Callan pressed a comforting hand to its back.

Dread filled Forfend's body. Fear tightened its grip on its shield.

Fornax hadn't answered. He hadn't heard.

No.

No, this wasn't a choice. Not this time.

Fornax would hear. It had to believe he would hear and he would come.

Forfend mustered up every shred of faith it had ever had. Divine magic lit up its Orison Aegis.

"Fornax," it projected. "You see me. You hear me. I believe in your strength as you have always believed in mine. I am begging your assistance for the safety of everyone in Brightcrossing. Please. Help us."

The yawning silence continued, but Forfend would not be deterred.

It knew what kind of intensity it took to garner the attention of gods.

"Fornax," it begged, "We will not survive without you. Hear me. Help us. Help us, help us, help us. I am desperate. I am scared. I know you are there and I know you will help me. Time is short and growing shorter. We need your protection. You must answer, lest we all peri--"

An epiphany struck Forfend.

A memory shrouded its senses and drew it back in time to bleeding skies and the ever present sense of imminent danger.

But this was not a memory of battle.

It found itself looking out over a small town of mortals. Such settlements were few and far between, and this one was especially notable for being established just beneath Fornax's Forge.

Forfend watched the mortals going about their daily hustle and bustle. It doubted there was a single person among them who did not carry a weapon in the always likely event of a demon attack, and yet they were determined to live, not just survive.

They built homes and filled them with love. They spared whatever they could for small luxuries. They held gatherings. They created art and music and told stories.

Forfend admired their tenacity. It always had.

Great steps thudded behind Forfend, shaking the earth.

They were instantly familiar.

It looked up at Fornax and tilted its head.

"Forfend. What do you see?"

Forfend returned its gaze to the beautiful vista that thrived against a background of black earth and malevolent red sky.

"Just... people. Working. Living." It hummed to itself. "Trying."

Fornax nodded once, his expression unreadable. "Hm. Indeed. Mortals are a very interesting thing."

He inspected the town, undoubtedly catching every minute detail. "When I look at mortals, there are a number of things that come to mind. One, the fact that I am a deity and therefore vastly disconnected from them."

Forfend nodded. It wondered if that fact upset Fornax. It felt as though it did.

"I envy their purity, their life." Fornax eyed Forfend. "What interests you most about them, Forfend? Is it their determination? Their ingenuity? Their kindness?"

Forfend straightened its back and reached out like perhaps it could touch the town's miniscule skyline. "Their kindness. It has always been their kindness."

Forfend was a part of their community. It knew that. They had made certain it knew.

Every mortal it had ever fought beside regarded it as an equal, as an ally, as a friend. They had accepted it despite its vast and obvious differences from them.

It adored them for that. It always would.

"Hm. I'm glad you think so." Fornax's mouth twitched briefly in something that might've been a smile.

He reached down and pat Forfend heavily on the shoulder.

When he withdrew, he grew starkly serious again. "Forfend, are you certain this is what you intend your life's purpose to be?"

"To help the mortals?" it asked. "Of course." It had never been more certain of anything. "They help us, do they not?"

Fornax stared out over the city, inscrutable. "I named you Forfend in hopes that the name would stave off misfortune from you. I wanted you to be whatever you wished to be. You were the first creation I ever designed that did not have a specific purpose, other than to find its own."

Fornax let his guard slip in the slightest, sadness casting a sheen over his eyes. "And... it worries me that you have chosen a path that may cause you pain. So I will ask you once more: are you sure this is the path you wish to take?"

Forfend nodded firmly. "Yes."

"Very well then," Fornax conceded. "I must return to work."

He lumbered away, massive steps disappearing deeper into the Forge.

Forfend was gracelessly dropped back into its body in present times. It was glad it was kneeling or it would've fallen.

Magic burst from its body and clung to its allies, emblazoning a glowing symbol of Fornax in the air just in front of each of their chests.

Forfend touched the one pulsing softly in front of its own chest.

The magic swirled, deformed by the intrusion. It immediately returned to its original state when Forfend withdrew.

"I feel more unbreakable now. Thank you. What did you do?" Callan asked, swiping his hand back and forth through the symbol in front of him. It reformed after every disturbance.

"He answered," Forfend whispered. "It is Shield of Faith. You are protected, all of you."

Forfend stood. Divine magic lit its chest a brilliant orange.

Forfend focused in on the feeling. Healing magic. It was healing magic.

Forfend released some of the energy and let it coalesce around Melzaryn.

Melzaryn watched his wounds close. "Nifty trick."

The overwhelming Atroxian aura in the room darkened sharply.

"Here." Melzaryn tossed glittering blue stones to Kagoshi. "They're magic. They'll hit like magic weapons."

Kagoshi nodded and dropped the rocks into the pocket of his shredded jacket.

Kairi's wings spread out, lighting up bright pink and sunshine yellow. A baby blue glow overtook her eyes. "Let's do this."

Forfend nodded and everyone took their positions.

The Spiritual Weapon took the forefront, drifting slowly back and forth right in front of the flames. It was ready.

Callan and Kagoshi stood a short ways behind it and a fair distance from each other.

Callan let metal slide across his flesh.

Kagoshi readied his massive fists, dropping into a defensive stance.

Forfend raised its Orison Aegis, armed with faith and revitalized hope.

Kairi readied her sparkling bow and took her place just in front of Melzaryn.

For his part, Melzaryn funneled mass amounts of magical energy. It crackled at the tip of his staff and began slowly growing.

"Keep it away from me," he requested. "I'm going to use everything I've got left to blast it, but I'll need time."

Everyone nodded affirmatively.

The kruthik hive lord's corpse suddenly exploded open, sending a rush of hellishly hot air throughout the room. The dark red fire exploded upwards, scorching the cave ceiling with a concentrated blast.

Enormous hands reached up out of the opened carcass and dug claws into the stone floor.

A crown of heavy, dark horns followed. They shouldn't have been able to fit within the length of the body, but that did not stop them from freeing themselves from the confines anyway.

The greater demon's snarling face struck fear deep into Forfend's core as it breached.

It wouldn't, it couldn't, let the monster rattle it.

Massive hooves cleared the corpse next. The centaurian beast found its footing and marched slowly, deliberately out of the fire with thudding steps.

Its lower half was a mockery of a horse, all scales and sharp angles. Its serrated sword-like tail lashed.

It growled deep in its chest, all its curved fangs on full display.

Eyes like glowing embers flicked over each party member in turn. It glowered down at them, standing well above even Kagoshi.

Forfend's Spiritual Weapon swung with overwhelming force.

The demon snatched the head of the hammer in its grip and stopped it cold.

The demon laughed murderously, the low rumbling made even more disconcerting by its malicious grin.

Red lightning coursed through its fingers and stung the air with the sharp scent of sulfur and ozone. The demon crushed the hammer in its grasp.

Forfend felt something in its center hitch.

Its magical connection to its Weapon faltered. Profane energy plagued the magical tether.

The hammer audibly cracked.

Forfend surged divine power back through the channel, burning away the demon's Abyssal intrusion.

The demon balked, irritated. "More durable than I had thought. Hmph, no matter," it hissed in its harsh Abyssal language.

It tossed the hammer aside, sending it spinning through the air.

The Spiritual Weapon caught itself and swung wildly at the air as though it were angry.

The greater demon ignored it. "Look at you," it smirked at the shaken group. "The first of many sacrifices has come to me already."

The monster threw its arms open. "Glorious! May your flesh be ever so exquisite!"

Stones tumbled in Forfend's chest like an avalanche. It squeezed its mace in its nervous marble hand.

It had to save Brightcrossing.

It had to save its friends.

It hoped it could save itself.

#forfend #twilight of the demigods #session notes #session 10 #brightcrossing #dnd

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chezzywezzy · 2 years ago

Text

Yandere Henry Creel (4/9)

Word count ; 4.0k

*Edited.

After a moment, I threw open the door. I immediately flinched, hearing distant gunshots and screams. And then, everything fell silent, because a door ended up slamming loudly. The entire place echoed and the lights were flickering like strobe lights.

I walked down the hallways slowly, taking in the destruction. Dead bodies were everywhere. But, in the midst, were fellow guards that were surely innocent. As Henry said, everyone was a prisoner. So why was he recklessly killing his peers?

I flinched as some of the ceiling collapsed behind me. I was so cold and I was trembling manically. I was afraid. Never did I think it was possible to be afraid of Henry, the love of my life. My everything.

And, as I followed the destruction, I realized where it led. There was a large puddle of blood, as though it had been smeared across the path, that trailed up to the playroom. My heart was beating disproportionately. I hugged my waist and tears pricked at the creases of my eyelids. It felt awful against my boots how slippery the floor was.

Henry was good. He would never hurt the children. And it was so quiet inside… He was helping them.

I knew it with certainty.

I threw open the door, but my brain short-circuited. The playroom was dripping with blood. I would hope it belonged to the guards, but I recognized in that moment several corpses of the poor children. I gasped as the doors shut behind me, but it hardly distracted my lover.

He had Two strangled against the wall, his body floating as the poor boy struggled. He was concentrated, and there was a deep-set anger and sadism set in his eyes that I could barely see. Two’s eyes were rolling into the back of his head and my heart shattered.

Henry wasn’t the good and perfect person he pretended to be.

“Henry, please! Don’t hurt him!” I shrieked, clasping my hands together fearfully. “W - what are you doing? Stop it!”

Henry tensed and I could hear a small sigh escape. Two was still barely alive and I desired to reach him, but Henry suddenly swung his arm in the opposite direction. Two’s body flung into the wall and blood spewed from his head. But I prayed - religiously or not - that he was alive. He had to be.

However, Henry, voice dripping with honey, spoke,” I asked you to wait, my dear.”

His head tilted, barely peering over his shoulder. His fists clenched and his anger didn’t dissipate. His expression betrayed the emotions, completely contradicting his tone. I was shaking in my boots, wide-eyed and afraid, and I knew in that moment the Henry I loved was not real. Henry himself was, but everything had been fake.

The Henry I loved would never have hurt the children.

I knew I had to get Eleven. I had to run. I had to do anything except stand here.

I took a few steps back as Henry turned to face me entirely. A small frown was etched onto his features and my heart beat erratically in my chest, but now, it was no longer from love. I was terrified.

Henry opened his mouth, his serious azure eyes boring into me. I gasped quietly as tears threatened to fall, and I made a mad dash for the door. My hands secured around the handles and I threw them open. The hallway was right there.

And then, out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed that Henry held his hand up. A scream of terror tore at my throat as the doors were slammed shut and my footing was completely lost. I was being dragged across the air, my entire body experiencing whiplash. And then, just like that, it all stopped only for me to be encircled by tight arms.

I struggled, fingers that were glued to my waist clawing into the body behind me. Henry’s grip only tightened, though, and despite all the torture he was put through, he was not weak. Sobs echoed in the silent playroom, and I was so afraid I thought I would pass out.

And then I felt his fluffy blonde hair, stained with the blood of the children he said he would protect, nuzzled against my cheek. I felt his nose brush against my neck and he inhaled deeply. I could tell he was annoyed. And I was scared that now, he would be forced to kill me.

But, with how my heart had shattered, it would be a sweet release.

“Why didn’t you trust me, my dear?” he cooed far too lovingly.

I gulped, my sobs halting in a moment. My struggling ceased and a low rumble escaped Henry as he chuckled. One hand drifted to my hand and he took control of it, holding it to his face. Once upon a time, I would’ve swooned to be held like this by him. And yet, I felt nothing but disgust as his lips gently pressed onto the palm of my hand.

It was prolonged and meaningful. But then, as his lips departed, he squeezed me even closer. Possessively and furiously so. I could feel his glare boring into the side of my face and I had no choice but to squeeze my eyes shut.

“Oh, Y/n, I love you so very much. Don’t you understand? Why couldn’t you have listened to me?”

Silence and then, he released my hand, allowing it to flop back to my side. Swiftly, he grabbed my jaw and turned me to face him. I was forced to make eye contact. His brows were furrowed so carefully, and yet, a sweet smile stretched across his lips. I almost yelped from how tight his hold on me was.

“Answer me, Y/n.”

His grip became relaxed and he cupped my cheek. My neck stretched from the interaction as he pushed his forehead against mine. He hummed happily, pressing a quick kiss to my nose.

And only as I forced my head to clear to the best of my ability, and I knew I had to check Two, I could muster,” Y - you’re a monster, Henry.”

His affectionate movements paused and his eyes blinked in surprise. However, they softened, but that only made shivers roll down my spine. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he summoned the words, and I was left only to watch as his expression morphed.

“Perhaps so. But you still love me, don’t you, dear?”

I almost said yes out of habit. But I clammed up my mouth as a few more tears slid down my cheeks. “No. I could never.”

I thought he would be angry. But, instead, cruel laughter bubbled in his throat. He insisted,” I have a hard time believing that. After all… I have always been this way. You have chosen not to see it and I have chosen not to show you.”

“That’s not true, Henry,” I stuttered. “It’s - it’s this place! It’s made you this way! And what you’ve done is unforgivable. How could you —?”

“Oh, my sweet love of my life,” he cooed further, azure orbs drowning in lovesickness,” I have always been this way. You may hold a grudge if you so like, but you still love me and I still love you. You told me you loved me unconditionally and I know it’s true.”

I shook my head to what ability I had. I craned my neck to where Two’s body was. He was bloody, beaten, and bruised. He was twitching. But he was alive none the less. And that meant I had a chance to save him.

“Please, Henry. Just stop all this. It’s wrong and evil a - and you might be the most vile person I’ve ever met —“

“And yet you love me anyways.”

I gulped and took a moment to summon the words. “…Why?”

He chuckled again. Gently, so very gently, he grabbed my shoulders and turned me to him. A tense darkness returned to his expression. He looked so evil. There was blood smeared across his cheeks and his entire uniform that was once an angelic white was stained red. I wished to shrug free of him, but his hands remained solid. He lowered his head to mine, and there was such a deep hatred buried within his gaze, and yet it looked right through me.

“Humans. Multiplying and poisoning our world, all while enforcing a structure of their own. A deeply unnatural structure,” he began. “Where others saw order, I saw a straight jacket. A cruel, oppressive world, dictated by made up rules. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades each life a faded, lesser copy of the one before. Wake up, eat, work, sleep, reproduce, and die.”

He paused, and his glare was so deeply evil and his grip tightened. I was so stunned that I couldn’t cry. Move. Speak. “Everyone is just waiting. Waiting for it all to be over. All while performing in a silly, terrible play day after day. I could not do that. I could not close off my mind and join them in the madness. I could not pretend.

“And then I realized. I didn’t have to. I could make my own rules. I could restore balance to a broken world, all with you by my side. A predator. But for good. As I practiced, I realized I could do more than I possibly imagined. I could reach into others. Into their minds. Their memories.

“I became an explorer. I saw my parents as they truly were. To the world they presented themselves as good, normal people, but like everything else in this world, it was all a lie. A terrible lie. They had done things, Y/n. Such awful things.”

I was trembling so very badly. I feared for my life. Henry harbored such a deep hatred toward those around him, and I wondered if this was the end for it all. The facade had crumbled, and I was now being Henry for what he truly was.

A monster.

He trailed off, eyeing me over. His grip on me softened and he sighed. His forehead pressed against mine and I gulped, wanting to be nothing but a speck of dirt on the wall that he forgot existed. And his veins accentuated for a moment, my eyes flitting across his suddenly peaceful expression.

His brows furrowed and he sighed again. His eyes shot open knowingly and I gulped, nostrils flaring. I wasn’t in control of my own body, paralyzed to the ground. His nose nuzzle against my own and he tilted his head, pressing a quick kiss against my lips.

“I’m so sorry, my dear,” he hummed. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I would never hurt you. I have not lied to you. I love you. In this world of dirt and pests, you are the one strand of gorgeous green grass that has emerged. You are my everything. I know that you love me. You could never say it again but I would still know. We are in love, Y/n. So, please, understand me.”

“Why me?”

The question shot past my lips before I could register it. In a way, I never wanted to know the answer.

He pursed his lips in thought before a smile returned. “Oh, my sweet. It’s always been you. Why, I remember first reaching out to my old home, the one in which you and your mother purchased. I had been practicing my abilities in secret, and finally, I could reach it. The only place I’d ever known. It was a start.

“At first I was so very offended that my old home had residents.Your mother was a pest, just like everyone else in the awful world. I planned to kill her immediately. And then, there you were, bouncing home from school. So precious and sweet. You caught my attention.

“I read your mind. I got absorbed in it. From every minuscule detail to how your days went, I memorized it. I found you so fascinating. How someone so unique could be brainwashed in society. And what caught me even more off guard was the pain you went through. That you were actively going through with your father. The opportunity for you to realize how terrible this world is had presented itself to you, and you didn’t take it.

“I wanted to show it to you. If I could have but one person on my side, especially one as cute as you, I would be happy. I began talking with you in your dreams. You amused me so. I already knew everything about you, but to hear your voice, to feel your soft skin - it was illuminating.

“You made me realize that not everything was so pointless. That, in this madness, love was attainable and worthwhile. I love you, my dear, and I always will. And I know with certainty that this is reciprocated. We are in love. And I love you. If I did not have other plans, I would spend eternity with you just to tell you how I feel every moment.

“I love you so much that I will agree to your silly cultural notions. We can get married. Have a family. Grow old together. All under my rule, of course, because this is not the way the world should be. But, if only to compromise and make you happy, nothing would give me greater joy.

“Y/n, I beg of you. Tell me that you accept me. That you love me still, even if I know it to be true.”

Silence. A deafening silence followed. I maintained a steady eye contact. With every word he spoke, my heart shattered more. Because, even as I realized how terrible of a monster he was, I wanted to excuse it. That there was surely a method to his madness.

Everything hurt. I was worried it always would. Because, if I accepted, I would drown in my guilt, and if I didn’t, I would be trapped regardless and drown in my sorrows.

I could tell he knew what I was thinking. Every word, every image, everything was his. Including me as a whole.

I opened my mouth to answer. Henry’s eyes widened and his manic grin only grew in anticipation.

But then, a scream echoed and his body was thrown back into the wall. He fell to the ground and I turned. Panting furiously in the doorway was Eleven. Her hand was raised and I was certain that she connected the dots. That Henry was a terrible man. No, not man. Monster.

Henry’s laugh echoed and he stumbled to his feet. The cloth around his neck unravelled and fell to the floor beside him. His glare was glued to the young girl, although his expression was riddled with amusement. “Eleven. How lovely of you to join us. Although you are not my Y/n, you are alike to me. And I wish to have you by my side just the same. We can be a family, Eleven. Join me.”

I looked to the girl shaking my head profusely. I began backing away, no longer blocking the path between the two enemies. I knew Eleven was good. But she was still frozen in place, her hand shakily lowering to her side. Henry looked as though he’d already convinced the two of us. There was a growing smirk on his face, one which I would’ve thought was angelic and perfect.

And, as I glanced at Two, who was barely heaving out breaths, I knew that my answer never would’ve been to accept his offer.

“No.”

My attention was brought back to Eleven. She screamed again and pushed at Henry, but this time, he expected it. He fought back with just as much raw strength, both of their arms outstretched. Any smugness and joy was destroyed, and Henry was pissed off. Any care that he had for the girl vanished in that moment, replaced with the vile hatred he felt for the rest of the human race.

Henry took a step further, tilting his head ever so slightly. The lights were flickering so manically. Eleven’s feet were beginning to slip. I gasped, covering my mouth. She was holding her ground, though. I was pleading for her to win. She was the only one who could stop Henry.

And then, her body was flung back into the door. Tears sprung, because Henry began tilting his head. With each tilt, her body slid across the floor, banging into the walls. I had no idea what to do as his hand raised and she was pulled toward him, levitating from the ground.

Eleven was screaming. A shriek bubbled into my throat, and there was only one thing I knew to do. I tried running at him, but as though he knew what I was trying to do, his other hand outstretched and I was carelessly flung against the wall. A scream escaped as I saw that Eleven was quickly losing strength as he rotated her toward him.

“It wasn’t supposed to end like this.”

With a flick of his wrist, cracks echoed in the room. Two’s unconscious body was beside me as I was pinned to the wall, and it was like I was being choked, even though I could breathe just as well. He was focusing such attention on both of us, and my nails dug into the wall.

“H - Henry! Please, don’t… I’ll do any - anything…”

Eleven was choking profusely, and Henry spared me a glance. His eyes were so cold and his expression so angry. And yet, he dropped me to the ground. I had no strength, crawling on my hands and knees. I watched as Eleven’s bones were beginning to flex unnaturally.

“Stop!” I shrieked at the top of my lungs. “Henry, please! I - if you do this, I’ll hate you forever! J - just leave her be.”

Henry chuckled, glancing my way. There was a trace of amusement on his expression, and he was killing Eleven so care-freely. It terrified me to my core.

“No, you wouldn’t, my dear. And even if that were true… I couldn’t care less.”

Eleven’s screams became unbearable to hear. I kept crawling until I was right at Henry’s legs. All of my strength escaped me and I bowed completely, grasping at his shoes. His attention was solely on the dying girl as blood tears dripped down her cheeks and onto the floor beside me.

I grasped his pant leg disparately. Sobs broke free and I was shaking completely, using his leg to balance myself to look up at him. I was a total mess, and if Eleven died… I do not think I could live in this world. One without a home. My mother. The faux Henry I’d fallen in love with. These abused children who I swore my life to the moment I met them.

“H - Henry,” I hiccuped, tugging again.

His eyes widened momentarily and he glanced down at me. He gulped thickly, and that’s when I saw it. Concern. Regret. Love. His arm lowered all of a sudden and the unconscious girl crashed to the ground. I gasped happily, using what strength I had to attempt to crawl over to the girl.

But all was in vein as Henry’s hand snuck into the collar of my work uniform. He gripped it tightly but clearly used his other hand to lift me into the air. My body straightened and I was completely disoriented, still pawing in Eleven’s direction.

But, instead, my body flexed and rotated to his desire until I plopped right into his arms bridal style. I panted furiously feeling Henry’s chest heave with breaths that were surprisingly more controlled and less labored. My gaze finally removed itself from the barely alive child and flickered up to Henry fearfully. I hugged my chest and trembled in his arms, even though he held me close.

“Oh, Y/n,” he cooed in worry,” you couldn’t have possibly meant what you thought. I would never hurt you. You could never leave me, don’t you understand? If you were to do so… I couldn’t bear to live in this awful world. I love you.”

“I - it would be better if I died if it meant you would too…” I choked, wracking my brain for even the slightest insult. “…You b - bitch!”

Henry was taken aback, but a smile crept up to his lips. Even though he had a permanent stench of blood and his cheek had maroon smears, all of the anger and concentration dissipated. A light laugh escaped and his eyes crinkled in amusement.

“Oh, my love, you’re so adorable when you’re mad.”

My mouth fell dry in realization. Of course, it should’ve been evident from the beginning when we first met. He was too perfect. Too calculated. And now, he’d revealed his true self. That he was utterly and absolutely insane. Mad with power and some psychopathic tendency from a young age. And because of that, he had everything to his liking.

It truly and utterly broke my heart.

His tilted his head forward, and with a slight nudge to the side, my hair, sticky with sweat, was flung out of my face. That destroyed any of the curtains I had to mask myself from the man - no, the monster - before me. He hummed contently as he lowered his lips, placing a chaste kiss to my forehead. It lingered, pressing even further.

And I knew not to ruin his mood. Eleven’s - and Two’s - unconscious bodies were lingering reminders that he could revoke his pity. As badly as I wished to jerk away and pry free, I couldn’t.

Henry was too strong.

And all of a sudden, I heard a grunt. Henry’s attention was alerted, but it was too late. Eleven’s petite hand stretched toward us. Henry went to react, eyes wide with surprise, but he was flung into the glass. I screeched as my body fell to the floor. I watched and Henry was shoved through the glass and hit the wall of the back room.

He tried so hard to struggle. By then, Eleven had risen to her feet. A stream of blood was dripping from her nose. Henry’s screams were so angry. Not even painful. He couldn’t fight back, body floating and pressed against the wall.

And that’s when everything began to teeter in Eleven’s favor. She was screaming, too, from exerting herself so very much. And yet, Henry’s body was unraveling before my very eyes. It was as though he was being burned alive, and it was horrifying to witness.

His skin was flaking and particles began floating in the air. Bone marrow was present, and around his body, a large hole was forming. Tears were streaming down my face and I was so numb that all I could do was watch intently. And then, all of a sudden any semblance of him was gone. The screams went silent and Eleven almost collapsed, but I caught her.

We stared in awe at where Henry once was. He was dead. That stung, knowing my whole reality was a lie. Because Henry was right. Even as he strangled the living bejesus out of the children I’d come to care for, I loved him. I always had, and perhaps I had been in denial of his true personality for the longest time.

Suddenly, Two groaned. I gasped, releasing Eleven as she composed herself from the shock. The poor boy was barely alive, but I helped him to his feet. He started bawling his eyes out as I fretted over him. And then, the playroom doors slammed open. We all turned, realizing Papa - no, Doctor Brenner - had burst the door open. He took but one glance over the room before this gaze landed on Eleven.

“What have you done?”

And, without hesitation, Eleven threw him back into the wall, rendering unconscious. It was easy to know what we had to do next.

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daisy-mooon · 3 years ago

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What the actual hell is up with everything I keep seeing abt empires ? I am so very confused

Oh boy.

What happened was a cod and a salmon were combined in a nuclear reactor in the Grimlands and exploded.

In the fallout;

- The Grimlands is completely destroyed. fWhip leaves to go to his sister Gem's empire, the Crystal Cliffs, but they are also suffering debri and fires. Both fWhip and Gem run away on a dragon to a floating island and it's confirmed that Gem lives the rest of her life happily. It's also implied that the Crystal Cliffs still teaches students.

- The Overgrowns flowers die. Katherine runs away as the land spews up lava and blackens.

- The Ocean Empire dries up. Lizzie looses her memories and her true form as the blue axoltol as fallout. Everything lies on the seabed.

- The Cod Empire also dries up. It's not as bad as the Ocean Empire due to it being a swamp, but nearly everyone dies. This causes Jimmy to run away with his pets.

- Scott Smajors demon brother Xornoth is released from their crystal prison. The two have a final battle where Scott takes a Rune Blade, which allows people to go the afterlife of their choosing, and unalives himself, which kills Xornoth as well. Scott wakes up in a new universe where Xornoth never became a demon and he is married to Jimmy. However, Rivendell is obliterated, over run by corruption and lava spews everywhere.

- the Lost Empire is set on fire. Joey's entire empire is turned into rubble, and in anger he puts on a crown Xornoth gave him and goes insane, blowing up various buildings. He falls off part of his temple and is implied to either be in a coma or dying, where his insanity and the smoke from fire cause him to hallucinate a happy ending with Xornoth. It's heavily implied that he bled out and died - Xornoth was already dead.

- Gilded Helianthia burns to the ground. Pearl burns with it, tied to the land.

- Mythland became over run by Blood Sheep as they anger that an Evil Sausage destroyed their church in an alternate reality. Sausage sacrifices himself to stop it. In the alternate reality evil Sausage eats an alternate Xornoth crystal. However, Mythical Sausage has confirmed that he is not dead.

- Mezalea is mostly okay but damage to huge structure has been made, the Matral Palace collapsing on itself. Joel's fate is ambiguous and he is believed to be one of the last emperors left - however his wife Lizzie does not remember him

- The Undergrove is relatively unharmed, but Shrub leaves with her wolf park to find the rest of the gnomes after learning that some of them alive. She goes to find the people she thought were dead.

- Pixl has not and will not release a finale. It's believed that Pixandria is either the last Empire left or died amongst everyone else.

So yeah it's the end of the world as we know it!

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eyeless-cunt · 4 years ago

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taking advantage of the fact that the request are open haha, how would the creepypastas react if they killed their s/o accidentally? thnks love, much love 4 u

you woke up and and chose enternal suffering

TW: Death of the reader, blood, gore, angst, depressive thoughts, hintings of panic attacks, mentions of suicide,....necrophilia....?, mentions of pills, paranoia, delusions :), ect.

Jeffery:

I'm Honestly not even sure how he could have accidentally killed you? He never takes you with him when he goes out to...do his things. He certainly never raised a knife towards you and he would never kill you out of anger. So how did this even happen?

He blacked out. He was just sitting with you, laughing about nothing important. That's all he can remember. So where are you? And whose blood is he covered in right now? It's brown and crumbly, signiling that it's been a good few hours since he came into contact with it. Where are you? He wants to see you, ask what happened. He never even noticed he was holding a knife washed in blood until he stood up, the object falling from his loose hand. Did he kill someone? When? Where? Where's the body? Where are you? Is this a dream? Where are you? He turns in circles, looking for a body. Where are you? He smells that familair scent in the air--that smell that arises from the corpses he mutilates. Where are you? He peeks behind a close by tree, expecting to see a random stranger of whom may have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Where are you?

THERE YOU ARE

Wobbiling legs, vacant eyes, a shaky hand outstretched towards an all too familar body. Why are you here? What's wrong with you? Shaky breaths, his heart that seems to stop for a whole few seconds--and suddenly—all too suddenly, the realization of what he's done hits him so hard he loses the feeling in his legs, falling beside your weeping corpse as you stare him in the eyes, filling him with a sense of glorified dread. The emotions that his brain can't seem to comprehend are flooding in all at once and far too fast, crippiling him with something that escaped him the night he killed his family. How did this happen? Why? What? Confusion and horror seeps into his bones and shoots him down, peircing his lungs in a way that leaves him gasping for air that he just can't seem to hold onto.

Jane:

She was just too obsessed. She went too far without looking around at her surroundings. Her hunt for Jeffery pushed her too hard. Before she knew it, she was standing over a body that she shouldn’t have been. As soon as she did it, her spiked anger flushed out of her system, a cold bucket of realization and horror washing over her. Immediately, apologies spew out of her mouth from behind her mask. She hurt her s/o out of pure anger of which she didn’t try hard enough to control. She’s so sure that you’ve just been knocked unconscious—she’s positive that your bleeding head wound isn’t fatal. No, you’ll be fine. Huh? Where’s your pulse? What?

Her nerves flare up, horror spiking back up again; as if it never went down in the first place. She’s not a delusional idiot. She doesn’t try to shake you awake. She won’t call out for you, expecting a response. Jane doesn’t pray to a dead god in the hope that you’ll awaken and smile at her, saying that you forgive her. That you know it was an accident. That you still love her. No. What she does is bury your body. She reflects the blame onto someone else. Jeffery. You were arguing with her about her continuous hunt for him. You told her that you wanted her to stop—you wanted her to forget. Jeffery caused this. He was the subject of the argument. He’s taken yet another person from her.

BEN:

How did this happen to him? To you? He should have been more careful. He should have known this would happen sooner or later. He should have stayed away from you. Why was he like this? Of course this happened to him, to you; the person he loved most. It was fine. It was alright. You were having fun. He was so happy just to be able to spend time with you. Why would he let you put in the plug? So close to him? He naturally collects electricity. He knows that. So why would he let himself stand so close to you as you plugged in the controller.

A lapse in judgement. He forgot. He was too focused on the way you looked today. You had only woken up an hour ago, a messy appearance still making his dead heart race. That’s no excuse. How did this happen to him? He knows how. So why can’t he feel anything? Why can’t he move his limbs? Why does he feel worse now than he had when he was drowning at the bottom of a lake? Why is he feeling like that but also simultaneously feeling nothing at the same time? Did he break? Yeah. Staring down at this body, he starts to think he might have broke. He might have just died again. He wants to die again. Please let him die again.

EJ:

He was careful with you for years. He had to be. He could break a hand just by holding it so easily. He could lose to his cravings and sink his teeth into your neck at any time. He could rip your head off with no effort at all if he were to brush your hair with anything other than small, fleeting and gentle touches. So how did this happen? He’s always been so careful. His eating schedule always revolved around you. He would have to leave for a few days so he could eat away from you, so he usually held off on leaving for months if he could.

He knew he shouldn’t have. Spending more time with you at the cost of your own life wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t logical. If the hunger got too persistent he could go feral, accidentally killing you in the process. It wasn’t logical. He knew it wasn’t logical to stay with you longer if he was hungry. So why did he do it? How could he let this happen? The cold realization that he really did lose control hits him, the feeling in his limbs quickly leaving. Static. That’s all he could feel. Numb static. You’re everywhere. He wasn’t careful enough. He lost out to his feelings for the first time in hundreds of years. And you paid the price. It was his fault. It’s his fault. It’s his fault. HE DID THIS TO YOU.

He can’t function. The control he’s been holding over himself for a good thousand years breaks. He regresses back into what he was before he gained control. He no longer wants to have control if it leads to him falling in love with someone only to kill them later when he loses it again.

LJ:

He can’t even remember how this happened. The trauma blocking the horrible memories works fast. All he knows is that you’re leaking blood all over a table he doesn’t remember being here yesterday. All he knows is that you’re dead and he did this. He did this. No. No he didn’t. He didn’t. He wouldn’t. He would never hurt you. Who did this? He didn’t. Events take a morbid turn when his abandonment issues take a turn for the worse.

He won’t let the body go. Your body. He won’t let you leave him. So he holds you forever, just like he promised you he would when you first met all those years ago. He holds you through the decomposition process, he holds you until you’re only scattered bones. He holds you until your bones are dust and you’ve been gone longer than he can remember. He says to not worry. He likes holding you. He’ll hold you like this forever. Don’t worry. He’s sure you were so scared. Don’t worry. He’s got you. Don’t worry.

Masky:

He ran out of pills at the worst possible time. The paranoia hit him all at once, making him tape the windows and glue them shut, block the door, place a camera in all the doorways. He keeps seeing things. He keeps seeing the tall man in the darkest corner of his room. He needs more pills. But he can’t leave or the tall man will get him. He’s sure of it.

You just chose the wrong time to come over. You couldn’t have known. He didn’t even realize it was you. It was so dark. The pipe in his hand was slick with sweat. All too suddenly you’re on the floor bleeding out and his chest is heaving, air seemingly desperate to avoid him. The lights get turned on. Huh? Why are you—why? Why are you on the floor? Where is that blood coming from...? Like coffee to a drunk person, the sight of your bleeding out form sobers him—paranoia and hallucinatory visions seeping out of his veins. An almost unparalleled confusion makes him back away from you, making him trip over his steps. He can’t grasp what’s exactly happening at the moment. It takes him a few minutes to realize that his s/o is indeed bleeding out on his floor—and by then it’s far too late. He’s incompetent. His incompetency was the cause of your death. His cowardice. He was so weak it ended your life. That’s how he sees it.

Hoodie:

He can’t even believe he let you get into this situation with him. He was supposed to protect you. He was supposed to be strong enough—stable enough, to protect you. He was supposed to be able to keep his sanity so that he could keep you safe. He took his pills. He stayed away from the woods when he was with you. He stayed in public places with you, and never met at night. He always had a tape recording—so how did it go so wrong? He tried so hard. He tried so fucking hard to keep you safe. So fucking hard.

He thought it was okay to take a short walk with you. You weren’t even close to the woods, it was still a semi-public place. No one was out, and while that made him uneasy, he didn’t question it. He should have. He should have grabbed your hand and taken you to fucking McDonalds or some shit. Maybe a nice stroll through Walmart. Just not here. Not alone and outside. He put you in this situation. It was his fault. He didn’t mean it. He’s never been angrier in his whole existence. He doesn’t worry, he doesn’t fear. Hoodie isn’t scared of anything. But looking down at a corpse that once belonged to you, he finds that he does indeed fear one thing. The end of your life.

Toby:

As far as he’s concerned you never died. What? What do you mean you’re holding a funeral? For who? What? What do you mean? My significant other is sitting right beside me? Is this a joke? It’s not very funny. Can you please stop calling me delusional? Hallucinating? What the fuck are you on? Do you want me set you on fire?

No. You never died. In fact, he’s looking at your smiling face right now. You’re like the sun. So bright it hurts, but so pretty. You’re telling him about your day, although he finds it odd that you’re talking about work again even though you’ve been sitting in this field with him all day. You’re a bit inconsistent and confused these days, but that’s okay. We’ll get through it together. Just like we always have. You promised, remember? Together forever, even through death. <3

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lostinwildflowers · 3 years ago

Text

Strange Magic

Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

Summary: In a world where dark elves are trying to take over, light fairies are being hunted and captured to be used as weapons. You are on the run from them when you enter a forest, accidentally injuring yourself. A mysterious wyvern appears before you, will it hurt you or lend you a helping hand?

Word Count: 10.5K

Warnings: slow-burn(It wasn't supposed to be I swear, I hope I did this right), pining, mentions of blood, swearing, choking(minor torture), fantasy AU!, Morphling!Ushijima(called a wyvern), Fairy!Reader(physical appearance is human), uhm I made some creatures up, angst, and fluff of course :D

A/N: Hey y'all this is my submission for @bluebellhairpin aka Nemo's Fantasy Collab! I wanted to continue stepping out of my box, so I wrote for good ole Ushiwaka for this fic! Please leave a comment or reblog this, I worked really hard and planned this out for a long time. Thank you and enjoy :D -Birch <3

You didn’t know where else to run, the thundering of hooves sounding out everywhere as you charge towards the forest. The dark elves were on you in an instant when you crossed their border, and you should have known better than to run.

War cries could be heard from behind you, and you duck under some vines, terror ripping through your body as you could start to make out individual voices.

You try to tread as quietly as you can through the forest, the dark green canopy thick and very high above you. Your (colored) eyes catch onto some small blue wisps floating through the sky, the small creatures twirling around in a friendly hello.

There isn’t time to dawdle though, Oikawa’s elves would be on you in a second if you didn’t keep moving. You wind your way through the trees, the voices and clangs of the elf warriors fading as you make your way deeper into the woods.

The bad thing was that the canopy was so thick you were starting to lose your vision, and you were terrified to use your powers. As a light fairy, you could produce soft beams of light at will whenever you were in a good headspace. But whenever you got mad or frightened, you lost almost all control over it, leading to forest fires and devastation.

You settle for emitting a small bit of light from your pointer finger, allowing it to glow like a soft candle as you pick your way over huge and gnarly roots, the material of your skirt getting caught on the jagged edges of the moss.

Crackling in front of you stops you in your tracks, and you are soon met face to face with a small herd of shadow deer. The black creatures were known to be kind and friendly toward those around them, so you smile in relief when they simply acknowledge you as you walk by.

There must be water nearby if there are shadow deer around. Hopefully, there aren’t any water sprites, those things are painful to deal with, you think to yourself, once again tugging on your skirt as you scutter around a particularly nasty vine.

Your breathing had managed to calm down at this point, the only thing you could hear was the rustling of the shadow deer next to you munching on the grass and the faintest roar of water in the background.

A squeal almost leaves your lips as your eyes focus on the faint path in front of you, pointing your glowing finger forward for a better view. When you catch sight of a shimmering dark blue sparkle you immediately start making your way down the dirt path, pink and purple glowing mushrooms lining the way down to the water’s edge.

At this point, you were completely lost in the middle of the forest, your surroundings glowing a deep midnight purple. You look around the path briefly to see if any small animals would cut in front of you and you think, I bet nothing is out here in this twilight. It’s almost impossible to see without a light.

You were lost in your thoughts and trying to remain calm, keeping your light steady, that you didn’t realize the path had turned from dirt into wet stone. Your feet slide out from underneath you, a loud crying leaving your lips as you hit the ground, your right calf ripping against a huge and sawtoothed rock.

In your haste to get close to the water, you also didn’t notice a sharp pair of green eyes were watching you from across the riverbed, eyes that seemed to glow neon with intensity.

You groan at the pain radiating through your back and your butt. The fall had made you land clumsily, causing your light to flicker out in haste.

In the dark twilight of the forest, you could see the faint gleam of rushing water, and you sit up slowly as another whimper leaves your lips when you shift your body. At a quick glance, you can see a wet, dark red liquid on your leg, and then a burning pain starts to set in.

You cough lowly, gasping in pain as you try to clutch your leg, eyes welling with unshed tears. A loud splash in the water sings out as a huge shadow begins to loom over you.

You are met with bright and shining olive green eyes, and you feel your heart start to race and your stomach clench in fear as you gaze up at the wyvern in front of you.

A harsh and dissonant screech leaves your lips as you try to scramble away from the huge creature that resembled a two-legged dragon. The sharp green eyes pierce you to the point where you feel like you can’t move, but the pain in your leg tells you that you can’t move because you’re injured.

In your panic, you accidentally start spewing light from your hands and onto the soft, dry leaves next to you. They easily catch fire, the orange and yellow glow of the flames lighting up the huge creature in front of you.

You could make out large, dark green and brown scales all over its chest, and you catch sight of a huge and swinging tail behind it. The flames start curling up a dried tree on the end of the path, and you begin your scrambling again, trying to crawl away from the monster in front of you.

In a flash, the wyvern turns around, its tail cutting deep into the water as it puts out the flames around you in an enormous wave. The path is dark again, the only light being from the few squished mushrooms you scrambled over and the olive glow of the wyvern’s eyes.

The figure of the wyvern shimmers for a few seconds before your eyes, and in a heartbeat, a tall and muscular figure stands in front of you. His eyes don’t seem to glow as much in his human form, but the intensity is still there as he begins to walk toward you.

Your heart is beating erratically at this point and you point your hand at him and shout panicked, “Get back or I will blast you!”

That immediately stops the large figure in front of you, the man stops dead in his tracks and puts one hand out in front of him slowly. He blinks once, his eyes staying focused on yours as he states, “I’m not going to hurt you. I am here to help.”

You manage to shuffle back onto your butt, sticking both hands out in front of you. Your eyes are wide with fear and you yell back at him, “How do I know you aren’t working with the dark elves to capture me?!”

This causes the man to tense all of a sudden, his large frame freezing at the sound of “dark elves”. His olive-green eyes remain latched on your own as he slowly crouches down, his hand still held out in a peaceful manner.

“I am not working for Oikawa,” he states lowly, his voice gravelly and deep. You just stare at him distrustfully, so the man continues, “My name is Ushijima Wakatoshi, but you can call me Ushijima.”

You put one hand down as you start to gather your feet underneath you, preparing to stand up. In your movements though, you gasp in pain, and Ushijima shuffles forward to help you.

Quickly you put both hands out again and you yell, “Stay back!” With that, a small burst of light flies from your hands, but Ushijima ducks out of the way easily, turning his head to watch the light sail past him.

He turns his head back to you and he replies, “Your aim isn’t too good, you must be in a lot of pain. I know you light fairies only have a limit to how much light you can expel.”

Now it’s your turn to freeze at his words, your hands dropping as you look at him in shock. Your mouth remains hanging open as you stutter out, “H- how did you know?”

A frown finds its way onto Ushijima’s face as he murmurs, “My friend, Tendo, was a light fairy. He was taken by Oikawa’s dark elves when he wouldn’t turn himself in to be used as their weapon. As far as I know, they killed him.”

At Ushijima’s confession, you sigh dejectedly and nod slowly, “I’m sorry to hear that, Ushijima. There aren’t many of us light fairies left. My name is L/n Y/n, and I’m on the run from Oikawa and his men.”

Ushijima seems to soften as you introduce yourself and he blankly responds, “You are injured. You can’t possibly run from the dark elves in this state. Let me help you, my hut isn’t too far from here.”

You nod wearily, trying once again to get up on your own, by whimpering when you brush your leg against the hard stones underneath you. Warm hands on your waist haul you to your feet, and you are met with those same intelligent green eyes.

“It might be best if I carry you, we have to cross the water and there is no way you can wade through that on your own,” Ushijima remarks, his hands lingering by your sides as he awaits your response.

You go to argue with him, but as you apply pressure to your injured leg, it wobbles and gives out on you. Ushijima’s firm grasp is around you in an instant, and he doesn’t say anything as he picks you up in his arms bridal style.

Ushijima is very cautious as he carries you through the water, the coolness of it lapping at the bottom of his tank top. Once on the shore, Ushijima asks you how you are doing, and you simply shrug, “I don’t know, you’re the one carrying me.”

With that, a small smile curls at the edges of Ushijima’s lips, and he sets out for his small hut. The walk to his shack is quite beautiful, you must admit. On this side of the river, the moss glows a gentle emerald green, and the tree trunks are a mix of black, navy, and burgundy barks.

There are a few small creatures you see along the way, one or two more shadow deer, a few red and oranges wisps too. What catches your attention is the fire sprites hanging around the tops of the trees.

The fire sprites were known for their very short tempers, but you were surprised to see how kindly they smiled at you in Ushijima’s arms. The man doesn’t seem to notice them himself, his pace not wavering as he maneuvers through the trees toward his home.

You notice Ushijima relaxes slightly at the sight of his house against the twilight sky. The hut is pretty small, enough to support one person, I suppose, you think to yourself as you take in the compact building.

Ushijima is ever the gentleman as he helps you inside the front door, boarding it shut behind him as he guides you over to a table. He clears it as quickly as he can, taking the pieces of parchment and moving them to a smaller desk.

You look around the house as you plop down in one of the wooden chairs, eyes scanning to see a small fireplace, couch and kitchen. Ushijima appears in your vision, two lit lanterns in his hands.

He sets one on the table you were sitting at, and he hangs the other on a hook by the door. After that, he finds a drawer, pulling out 10 or so candles. He quickly lights each of them, setting them up throughout the room to provide ample light.

It was at this moment, with his back turned to you, that you realized how handsome Ushijima was. He was littered with ropes of muscle, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the beefiness of his back that you see peeking out from under his tank top.

In your ogling, you hardly register it when he turns around, his gaze soft and curious as it meets your own. He sets the medical supplies on the table as he takes his place in a chair next to you and asks, “Y/n? Are you alright? You look slightly dazed.”

You just rub at your eyes and shake your head side to side twice to clear your thoughts as you mumble back, “Uh, yeah. I think I just lost a lot of blood, but I should be okay.”

Ushijima nods in reply as he starts to prep the supplies, grabbing a small glass bottle of alcohol and some gauze. Kind green eyes meet your own troubled (colored) ones and he asks quietly, “Is it alright if I clean your cut now?”

You blush faintly and scoot your leg over to him, pulling up the hem of your skirt so he had access to your wound. Ushijima’s hands are rough and warm against your smooth skin, but he is gentle as he picks up your foot to set in his lap.

In a few motions, he wets a small piece of cloth with water, cleaning up the edges of the cut from where the river water mixed with your blood. After that, he takes a clean cloth and allows it to soak in the alcohol for a second, glancing at you and saying, “This is going to sting.”

You grip onto the edge of the desk as he dabs at the wound, and you can’t help the way your knee tugs toward your chest at the sharp sting of it. You bang your knee slightly at your sudden reflex, and Ushijima stares blankly at you and says, “I told you it was going to sting.”

An embarrassed flush covers your face as you nod, stretching your leg back out. Ushijima stops you though, moving his chair closer so he’s sat next to you, your thigh slung over one of his legs as he looks down at the cut intensely.

“I’m going to have to clean this thoroughly. I can see dirt in there, and it could get infected if not cleaned properly,” he states monotonously, looking down at your scared face.

His expression softens at the clear panic etched on your features and he glances away while mumbling, “You can grab onto my arm if that will help ease your pain.”

So while he gets to work on cleaning your wound, your hands find a place around the girth of his large bicep. He does his best to work as efficiently as possible, but when he has to pluck a few pieces of grass and rubble out, your hands tighten around the muscle to the point you thought you were hurting him.

Ushijima is nothing but kind and patient as he wraps your calf with some gauze, securing it with some medical tape before setting it on the ground tenderly. His hands don’t linger as long as you would have liked, because he’s soon grabbing all of the dirty supplies and finding a place to dispose of them.

As Ushijima washes his hands in a pail of water he murmurs quietly, “You can sleep on the bed for as long as you like. I can rest out here by the fire.”

You wince as you turn to face him and you say, “I can’t possibly take your bed, this is your home. I’m just a guest here because you were kind enough to help me out. I don’t even know how to repay you.”

Ushijima almost smiles at this as he shakes his head, “No, I insist. You need the room on the bed for your leg to stretch out. I will take the couch to keep an eye out for intruders. No one should be around or have followed us, no one knows where I live except for you.”

You open your mouth to object again, but you think better of it and instead ask, “So you said you knew a light fairy? Oh, what was his name… oh, Tendo?”

Ushijima’s large frame freezes from drying his hands, his back turned toward you. You see him sigh and turn around slowly, sitting in the chair next to you again. Ushijima runs his hands over his face, his fingers trailing through his olive-brown hair as he takes a moment to gather his thoughts.

“Tendo was my best friend,” he starts, “I’m a wyvern, and Tendo grew up next to where my family lived. He was never afraid of my morphling form, and I was never afraid of his light powers.”

You listen as Ushijima tells you his backstory and about how he ended up in the twilight forest. He mentions how his family moved across the country without him, and that he was sought after for his hardened scales as armor.

In turn, you explained how the dark elf king, Oikawa Tooru, was hunting the light fairies for his own personal army. You tell the story of how they caught you on the edge of their territory, leaving them to follow you in pursuit as you made your way into the twilight forest.

Deep in the dark lands, an obsidian castle stood high against the rising moon, one of the tallest towers flickering with the light from a holding chamber.

In this chamber, a defiant red-headed light fairy was chained, his spirit not broken as the dark elf king and his loyal soldiers tried to corrupt him.

A gasp of, “I will never, submit to you, Oikawa!” leaves the redhead’s lips as the dark elf uses his power to choke the air out of Tendo’s lungs. The dark elf king just smirks madly as he releases his power, allowing the light fairy to crash to his knees.

Oikawa turns to his left and calls, “General Iwaizumi, bring in The Siren.” The dark-haired male nods, and slips down a blackened hallway within the castle.

A few minutes go by before General Iwaizumi is accompanied by a silver-haired male covered in patchy blue and green scales. Oikawa turns to the siren and states, “Semi, you need to sing this foolish light fairy into command.”

Semi nods hesitantly under Oikawa’s command and makes his way toward the chained-up fairy. Oikawa and the other dark elves leave, locking the two creatures in the room as Semi’s enchanting voice starts to sound out.

The following morning in the twilight forest is surprisingly calm, and you groan as you roll over in the large king-sized bed. A broken cry leaves your lips as you feel pain in your leg, and in a few seconds, Ushijima is standing at the frame of the door, concern written all over his features.

“Y/n,” he rushes, “What’s wrong?” He answers his own question when he pulls back the sheets on the bed to expose your leg, blood coating every inch of the bandage he had wrapped last night.

Ushijima’s eyes harden in determination as he glances at the pain etched on your face. Without another word, he turns and strides out of the room, his hands clenched at his sides as he finds more medical supplies.

In a minute, he’s back by your side and murmuring softly, “Y/n, I need you to take your skirt off, it got tangled between your legs when you slept, causing your wound to open in the night.”

You are half asleep and in pain as you listen to his words, and you grumble out, “Can you at least help me to my feet? I don’t think I can stand up on my own.”

Ushijima is immediately by your side, sliding one hand behind your shoulders while the other sits at the small of your back, helping to heave you to your feet. You stumble slightly, but Ushijima catches you as you fall into his chest, your forehead making contact with his sternum.

You close your eyes in pain as you mumble out, “Ow, you’re bony.” Ushijima huffs at this, a genuine smile sitting on his lips as he steadies you.

Ushijima is very respectful as he helps you out of your skirts, his eyes only staying above your chest or below your knees as much as he can. He starts to take off the soiled tape once he has you sit on the edge of the bed, and he kneels in front of you to remove the blood-soaked gauze.

His hands feel nice, you think to yourself as he situated the new wrap of gauze, his brows furrowed in concentration. You blink shyly at your own thoughts as he stands up and walks over to a chest near the end of the bed.

Ushijima pulls out a pair of pants and a large green shirt and sheepishly rubs his head as he looks at you. He starts, “I, uhm. I don’t have any clothes that will fit you, and your skirts will keep getting in the way. You can wear these.”

Your face flushes with warmth as he hands you the clothes, slipping out of the room to let you get changed. As he walks away, Ushijima doesn’t understand why his heart is beating faster and he can’t stop thinking of you sitting on his bed with his clothes in your hands.

It takes you a little while to get changed, but once you do you hesitantly call, “Uhm, Ushijima? Could you help me to the kitchen?”

At that, Ushijima walks back into the bedroom with a small plate of fresh berries, some bread, and a small piece of meat. He tries to calm his breathing as his eyes catch you looking divine in his clothes, but he can’t help the way the tips of his ears burn red.

He clears his throat and says, “I made some food for you, Y/n. I need to leave you here and head to the nearest town to get supplies. If I’m not careful, your leg could end up infected, and I need more bandages and some clothes for you.”

You shuffle toward the food, the collar of the shirt sliding down to expose your collarbones as you reach for a strawberry. Ushijima has to rip his eyes away from you as he bows slightly, walking toward the door.

You look rapidly at the sound of his retreating footsteps and you yell out, “Ushijima, wait!” The tall man stops as he passes through the doorway, placing one hand on the frame he turns his head over his shoulder and asks, “Yes, Y/n?”

Butterflies erupt finds in your stomach as you manage to say, “Thank you, Ushijima. For everything.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you almost think you said something wrong when all you can focus on are his bright green eyes.

But then Ushijima gives you a gentle, closed-lipped smile before saying, “I will be gathering my cart for the next little while, I will tell you whenever I am leaving.” At that, he leaves you in the tightly packed bedroom to go prepare for his trip.

The day goes by pretty slowly at the start, as you had woken up early in the morning due to pain. Ushijima had left right as the forest started to shimmer a mulberry shade of purple, the sun trying its hardest to brighten the dark woods.

You try to rest on the bed, but you feel bad for having bled all over Ushijima’s sheets, so you take your time in standing up, carefully peeling the blankets off the bed and over to the washbasin you had seen when you walked in.

You didn’t necessarily walk around the house, but you limped with care as you lifted the sheets off the bed and carried them into the small living room. You add a log to the fire burning in the hearth and your mind wanders, Ushijima must have added wood before he left this morning.

Somehow you manage to tug the basin closer to the fire, allowing the heat of the flames to warm the basin slightly as you begin scrubbing at the bloodstains. This takes up most of your late morning and into lunch, having to stretch your leg out carefully as to not cramp it.

At this point in the day, the forest was a lot brighter, as the wind was moving quickly through the canopy, splitting open the dark blanket to allow some light to shine down onto the forest floor.

You hang the blankets up in front of the fire in hopes they would dry before Ushijima would get home. You feel your stomach grumble from all of the moving around you were doing, and the dull ache in your leg only intensifies throughout the day.

You look at the small kitchen within the hut, and you see the small box of berries that Ushijima had grabbed fruit from whenever he gave you your breakfast. As you gaze upon the small fruit you think, I really don’t want to eat all of these, but I don’t know where else to get food.

Thus, you end up snacking on the berries for a while, filling up your stomach while also leaving plenty of strawberries, raspberries, and wild berries in the bottom of the small basket. Once your belly was pleasantly full, you crawl over to the couch where Ushijima had slept and you curl up into a ball, letting sleep overtake your exhausted form.

It’s late afternoon when Ushijima returns, the sounds of wings beating alerting you of his presence. You quickly get up from the couch where you had been dozing, and you head straight for the front door, undoing the deadbolt in a hasty swing.

You fling the door open to be met with the green and brown wyvern you know to be Ushijima, his eyes ferociously green in his morphling form. You notice the large cart on the expanse of his back and you recognize boxes and crates full of supplies.

You can’t help the awe that covers your features as you begin to walk toward Ushijima’s huge form. He quickly starts to transform, allowing the cart to slide off of his back gracefully before he is revealed in his human clothes.

Ushijima quickly starts heading toward you, picking up a jog when he sees you stumble. Just before you reach him, your injured leg dips down in a slight hole in the forest floor, and you trip, your face rushing toward the ground.

In a flash, Ushijima lunges forward, somehow managing to slide under you so you land on his chest with his back to the ground. He coughs once as he tries to regain the air in his lungs, and you tense as you feel pain ricochet through your legs.

Neither of you realizes that his hands are firmly wrapped around your waist, but as your head catches up with what happened you look down at him and ask, “Ushi- Ushijima, are you alright? You didn’t have to catch me you know.”

Ushijima just nods slightly and sputters out, “Hng, uh, yeah Y/n, I am fine. Is your leg alright?” You nod in response, and you notice that your lips are only a few inches away from his own plump ones.

You can see smaller speckles of gold and brown within his sharp green eyes, and you feel yourself getting flustered by noticing his handsome features up close. You swear you see Ushijima’s eyes flick down to your lips, but you blame it on your vision failing you.

Ushijima’s hands tighten around your waist even more, his arms practically wrapping you in a hug to his chest when your leg slides off of his own. You flush under his warm gaze and his even warmer touches, your stomach filling with butterflies as he looks over your features.

“You are very beautiful,” Ushijima whispers softly, untangling one hand from around your waist to brush a piece of hair out of your eyes, tenderly tucking it behind your ear.

You don’t know what to say for a second, your cheeks getting hotter as he continues to look at you. You end up murmuring back a simple, “Thank you.”

Ushijima sits up slowly, your forehead moving to rest on his own as he shifts his weight forward. Your lips catch the side of his cheek in a soft kiss, and you pull away quickly at the realization of your actions.

You don’t notice the red staining Ushijima’s cheeks though, and he simply helps you stand up without another word.

The two of you work in tandem unpacking all of the supplies, Ushijima brings the crates inside while you start taking items out and reorganizing them. This goes on for an hour or so before Ushijima’s cart is cleared.

He locks the door behind the two of you, securing the deadbolt before swiveling around to the boxes. Ushijima glances at your leg and asks, “How does it feel? I managed to bargain for some pain medicine, if you need some I can grab it.”

You shake your head and say, “I’m alright as of now, but maybe before bed, I really don’t want to bleed all over your sheets again.” You glance absentmindedly at the sheets strung in front of the fireplace and you curse yourself for not putting them back on the bed earlier.

Ushijima’s gaze follows your own and he almost frowns when he sees the sheets hanging. He steps forward and states, “I’m sorry Y/n, I should have cleaned those before I left this morning. You probably overexerted yourself doing this.”

You smile up at the large man from where you are sitting and say, “No, it’s alright Ushi. I didn’t have anything else to do today, and I was the one who dirtied them.”

His hand tugs on the now dry sheets and he grumbles lowly, “I will put these back on the bed. You can help yourself to the meat crate on the table.”

You simply nod as he walks past you, and a fluttery feeling makes its way from your stomach and into your chest as you catch a whiff of the woodsy scent lingering on him from his journey.

These next few days are going to be interesting, you think to yourself. I don’t know what I’ll be able to do to make up for my injured leg, but I’ll have to figure something out. Ushijima is too kind for me to just leech off of him.

Days turn into weeks as your leg starts to heal, and you are walking a lot better than you had before. Ushijima was nothing but kind and compassionate toward you as you healed, making breakfast and dinner every single morning and evening without fail.

You, in turn, would help do laundry and collect berries and vegetables from the small garden Ushijima had next to his hut. Ushijima had objected at the start, but he realized you needed something to do while he helped you heal and hide from the dark elves.

More recently you had decided to show him your powers, starting off with emitting a soft and golden glow from the tips of your fingers. Whenever your leg was completely healed you showed him how you could toss the beams of light like how you did when he first encountered you.

Ushijima found himself enjoying your presence more than he would have liked to admit. You had started filling the hole in his heart that had been made by Tendo’s absence and he was scared. He was scared that you would leave him or be taken away like how Tendo was, and he couldn’t let that happen.

Even worse yet, Ushijima was wanting to touch you. Not sexually or suggestively, but whenever you both would walk to the river to get water, he wanted to reach down and lace his fingers with your own.

He wanted to cuddle you on the couch in front of the fire when the nights got cold. He wanted you to grab onto his arm when you tripped or if you needed him for something.

Ushijima found himself wanting to be your person. He didn’t even know what to do about it because he didn’t know if you felt the same way or not.

Meanwhile, you wanted to rest your head on his shoulder after you set the fishing line and were waiting for something to catch. You wanted to chase after him in the field of wildflowers on the edge of the forest. You wanted him to kiss you on the forehead when you went to lie down in his bed.

You craved his touch after all of these months, his warm and rough hands sent shocks and shivers up your spine. His touch was electric and magnetic all at the same time, it caused you to shiver and shake with a simple graze on the hand.

You thought for sure you had ruined it one night when you had asked, “Ushijima, I know I have been a guest in your house for a while, and you’ve been calling me by my first name since we met. Is it alright if I called you Wakatoshi? Or even Toshi for short?”

The man had frozen where he was cutting vegetables for your small dinner. A pregnant silence hung in the air and you bit your lip in nervousness when he didn’t answer.

You shuffled on the couch as an embarrassed flush spread on your cheeks and you murmur, “I understand if you would like me to continue calling you-” “No,” he cuts you off.

“Please call me Wakatoshi or Toshi. You have been great company, you can call me whatever you like,” he continues as he resumes chopping up the carrot. You don’t notice the red on his neck and ears, and you don’t see the toothy grin that he lets slide onto his lips.

There was another instance when you had been making small sandwiches for lunch while Ushijima was out chopping wood. He had been at it all morning and you thought he might like a glass of lemonade.

What you weren’t prepared for was to walk around the corner of the hut, a cup of lemonade in hand, and be met face to face with Ushijima’s muscled and very much shirtless back.

The sound of the cup hitting the ground made Ushijima whip around, the axe in his hand swinging as he faced you. When he saw your dazed look and redden cheeks, he immediately dropped the tool to his side.

“Are you alright? What’s going on?” he had asked you, raising up the axe above his head to lodge it into the piece of wood he had been chopping.

A squeak leaves your lips at the sound of the crack, and your feet step into the remnants of the lemonade on the ground. Ushijima turns back to you, his broad chest glistening with sweat as he walks over to you.

You can’t help but gulp as the huge man approaches you and then reaches down to pick up the cup, handing it to you with a gentle, “You accidentally dropped this.”

You just nod and take the cup from him, quickly limping and scurrying back into the hut. Your fingers at your face and eyes as you groan into your hand, and you look at the cup with disgust as you think, Have I really gotten this attracted to Ushijima? I know I’m living with him, but damn.

A few weeks after the lemonade incident, Ushijima took you down to the river to help him gather water to store for drinking. He carried two buckets on a long pole slung over his shoulder, and he let you carry a few bottles in a satchel slung across your body.

The two of you made simple small talk as the river approached, and Ushijima took the liberty of getting thigh-deep in the water to fill up the buckets of water before returning to shore.

You had simply crouched on the riverbed, reaching forward ever so slightly to fill up each bottle carefully. You watched for sand or any bugs that might have gotten in the way, so you didn’t see Ushijima behind you.

He rested a hand on your shoulder gently as he said, “The buckets are full, so whenever the bottles are ready we can head back to the house.”

Ushijima’s touch and low voice ended up scaring you, making you jump forward into the cold water of the river with a shrill scream. You ended up only rolling into the shallows, but your entire body was soaked head to toe when you emerged.

Your mouth hung open accusingly at Ushijima, whose expression was one of shock and fear as he regarded your wet figure. He steps toward you and into the shallows, reaching a hand out to say, “Oh my goodness, Y/n, I did not mean to scare you, I simply-”

A splash of water cuts him off as you shove water with your hands toward his tall frame. Ushijima slightly recoils at the sensation of the cool water on his skin, and he goes to ask you what you were doing until he sees the coy grin on your lips.

With his own chuckle, he reaches down and splashes you back, his feet guiding him deeper into the blue water of the river. A squeal flies from your lips as you try to scramble away from him, but his hands grab at you as he dunks you both in the refreshing river water.

Laughter sounds out from the two of you, your giggles sound like wind chimes compared to his deep baritone. You almost stop laughing just to hear the beautiful sound fall from his lips as you catch his gaze.

Ushijima rests his hands on your back, holding you close in the middle of the river as the two of you lock eyes. Water drips down from his hair and onto the plump apples of his cheeks, where a large and toothy grin awaited you.

You mirrored the cheerful look on his face, eyes squinting up at him as you rested your hands on his chest, your own torso heaving from the giggles still falling from your lips. The warmth from his body made your skin tingle from the temperature difference, and you found yourself getting lost in his comforting green eyes.

A loud buzzing can be heard from the other side of the river, catching both you and Ushijima’s attention rapidly as a horde of water sprites fly at you angrily. Ushijima pushes you towards the shore as he follows in suit, his clothes clinging tightly to his muscled form as he grabs his buckets and lifts the bar across his back.

You grab for the few bottles you had managed to fill, pushing them into the damp satchel quickly as you clamper out of the water and to where Ushijima was waiting. The two of you set off as quickly as you can without spilling the buckets, laughter and giggles spewing from both of you as you make your way back to the hut.

Then there was your biggest and most embarrassing moment yet. You had come to learn that the days in the twilight forest were warm, so a shirt and pants were fine, some days even a cropped shirt was acceptable.

However, the nights in the forest were absolutely brutal, as temperatures dropped rapidly, and that was why Ushijima kept the firewood supply stocked constantly.

The night had gone as usual, the sun was setting which meant it was time for the front door to be locked and the board to be set in place. Ushijima had the fire going from dinner and was poking at it slightly to shift the embers around.

He still insisted on sleeping on the smaller couch, even though you had offered him the bed countless times. Ushijima would always say something about how he was raised to respect women and that you were recovering from an injury and he didn’t want to take advantage of you.

But that night, you laid shivering and cold in Ushijima’s expansive bed. The comforters did little to warm you, and you even wore one of Ushijima’s larger shirts over your own smaller one in an attempt to warm yourself.

The constant cold and shivering had you exhausted, but sleep couldn’t quite seem to find you. This led you to your current predicament.

You were standing in the doorway of the bedroom, facing the kitchen and the soft glow from the fire. You couldn’t see Ushijima, but you knew he was laying on the other side of the couch, hopefully asleep.

Soft footsteps lead you over to the front of the fire, and with as much care as you can manage, you settle down next to the hearth, hands held out to try to warm them up.

A sigh leaves your lips as the fire begins to heat your fingers up, and you tuck your knees under your chin as you bask in the quiet warmth. A blanket being draped over your shoulders makes you turn hastily, and you see Ushijima standing behind you, eyes half-lidded with sleep.

“If you were cold you should have told me, I would have added more logs to the fire,” Ushijima states quietly, his arms crossing over his chest as he regards your small, balled-up figure on the floor.

You glance at the flames to keep your eyes off of his handsome face as you murmur, “I thought you were asleep, Toshi. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

Ushijima carefully sits down next to you, opening his left arm to invite you into his chest for extra warmth. You shyly scoot closer to him, tucking your cheek into his chest and letting one hand rest on his thigh.

He wraps his arm around you slowly, as if to not scare you as he pulls you closer to his chest. His green eyes linger on the top of your head as his voice rumbles, “You are my main priority right now, Y/n. I have to tend to your needs, even if it is as simple as warmth.”

You nod slightly, the body heat radiating from Ushijima sending tingles up and down your spine. The warmth starts to spread all over, and as you start to drift off in Ushijima’s arms, you could swear something touched your head.

In a few moments, you were asleep in Ushijima’s lap, and he couldn’t believe he had actually kissed your forehead. Ever since you had accidentally kissed his cheek, he had wanted to return the kiss to you somehow, and he had been given the perfect opportunity.

The following morning, the fire had burnt out when you woke up, but you weren’t cold at all. Yes, there was a blanket covering you, but the weight of a solid and firmly muscled arm was wrapped around your torso, locking you in place and constantly giving out heat.

Behind the said arm was the looming figure of Ushijima, whose eyes were peeked open slightly, watching and waiting to see when you would wake up. He felt you shift against him, and that’s when his eyes popped open.

He lifted his arm slightly, allowing you to turn to face him as you blinked sleepily up at him, (colored) orbs half-lidded with a lazy smile on your lips. Ushijima smiles softly in return, his arm tightening again when you nuzzle into his chest.

Neither of you discusses the way you enjoyed holding each other, especially when you have to untangle from each other’s limbs and begin your day. After breakfast, you call out, “Toshi, I need to go refill our basket full of berries, I’ll be near the river if you need me for anything.”

Ushijima nods from where he’s sketching a map at the table before turning to you and saying, “Be careful out there since you are going by alone. I know you can protect yourself but some creatures won’t be kind to you.”

You roll your eyes and nod, giving the green-eyed man a mock salute as you grab the basket, hauling it to your hip as you make your way out of the small shack and into the woods.

The walk to the river only takes a few minutes, and so you set to work, grabbing handfuls of the small blueberries and huckleberries that liked to grow within reach of the water.

You quiet hum to yourself as the basket slowly starts to fill up, your leg cramping every once in a while, forcing you to take small breaks in between handfuls of berries.

Out of nowhere, a large wave of light is fired at you, causing you to get blasted through the huckleberries and down to the riverbed. A scream escapes your lips as you land, echoing throughout the forest as the plants around you catch fire.

Ushiwaka hears the scream from where he had just started tending to his garden outside of the house, and he begins sprinting toward the river at the resounding cry.

Then through the path burnt by the light and fire, stands Tendo Satori, his palms glowing and a sadistic grin on his face. As the light fairy makes his way towards you, you scramble to your feet, holding your own glowing palms out in front of you in defense.

Tendo smiles at you before saying, “Well, well, well, little light fairy, looks like you’re trapped.” And he wasn’t wrong, you were surrounded by water, which definitely didn’t aid you in fighting.

Ushijima appears moments afterward, his chest heaving and his eyes widening as they lock onto the tall form in front of him. He coughs for a split second, gaining the attention of the red-headed light fairy as he stutters out, “T- Tendo? I thought you were killed...”

Tendo just laughs out, “Oh my, you big oaf, I was simply recruited to the correct side of this world, to serve under his majesty, King Oikawa.”

As Tendo takes a step toward you, Ushijima steps toward Tendo with a deep shout of, “You get away from her, NOW.”

Tendo ignores Ushijima’s words and starts advancing toward you again, bringing a light beam to his fingers, he chuckles darkly.

You glance at Ushijima, panic, and terror written all over your disheveled features and you yell to him, “This is your friend, Tendo? Why didn’t you tell me he’s a psychopath?!”

Ushijima starts to make his way toward you as he calls back, “Well he wasn’t like this before! He never would have bowed down to Oikawa unless they brainwashed him!”

True panic starts to set in at Ushijima’s words, and you can feel the control of your power start to slip with every passing second. Tendo laughs maniacally, shooting beams of light at you in rapid succession.

On instinct, you engage your light power, sending a huge wave of light and heat out, causing trees and bushes on the edge of the water to catch fire. You had stopped paying attention to your surroundings, totally giving into the dark and dangerous part of your power.

Tendo just smiles at you and shouts with joy, “Yes! Yes! Unleash your true power, my fellow fairy!”

Ushijima had to stop whenever you sent out your blast of light, and he was at a loss for what to do as you lost control of yourself. He gazed around him, eyes cataloging the damage of your powers, ruining all of the berry plants and the new growth at the water’s edge.

With no other choices left, Ushijima starts to transform into his wyvern. He hopes it’ll be enough to battle Tendo, or at least begin to start putting out a large number of the flames.

Once he’s fully transformed, the large wyvern dives into the river before reemerging, trying to splash the flames out as you begin firing at Tendo. Ushijima’s wyvern lets out a roar as he dives at Tendo, his green eyes focusing on the smaller figure of the light fairy.

As Ushijima’s wings carry him around, Tendo gets slightly distracted from you, giving you the chance to aim a little more clearly at the evil light fairy. As quick as one of your light beams, a silent arrow flies across the sky, ripping through one of Ushijima’s wings.

The wyvern falls with an ear-piercing screech, and you suddenly regain control of your powers when you realize Ushijima’s body crashed from the sky and onto the ground. Standing downriver is a tall dark elf, holding an elegantly crafted obsidian bow with an evil grin on his face.

Ushijima had no other choice than to morph back into his human form, the poison arrow sticking straight out of his shoulder. Oikawa appears next to Tendo while you start running over to Ushijima, power and elegance hanging in the air at the dark elf king’s presence.

Ushijima rolls over with a groan and manages to cough out, “Don’t worry about me, Y/n, just defeat them.” Your heart breaks at the battered sight of Ushijima in front of you, his body broken, bruised, and bloody.

It was at that moment, you knew. Ushijima was no longer just someone letting you live with him, helping you out, or even just a caretaker for you. You were completely, utterly, and helplessly in love with Ushijima Wakatoshi.

With Ushijima’s go ahead, you turn around, light flaring at your palms as your eyes begin to glow gold. A loud scream leaves your lips as you charge at Oikawa and Tendo, light flashing from your palms as you aim the beams at the two men.

In a few quick movements, you have made a fire ring around Oikawa, the flames lapping tall against the sky as you turn to face Tendo. The light fairy is just looking at you smugly, but his smile falters when he hears Ushijima’s delirious call through the crackle of the fire, “T-Tendo?”

A look of horror appears on Tendo’s face as he takes in the raging fire around him and his gaze lands on Ushijima. In a few large strides, Tendo is in front of Ushijima and says, “Oh my gosh, Wakatoshi, what happened to you? What happened to me?”

Ushijima groans as Tendo helps him sit up and he blinks hazily at the redhead, the poison from Oikawa’s arrow starting to pump throughout his blood. It takes a moment for Ushijima to respond before he manages, “Tendo… you, you gave into Oikawa, you were fighting us...”

While Tendo tries to move Ushijima out of the fight, you step through the circle of blazing fire to be met face to face with Oikawa. With a snarl on your lips you sneer, “So this is the Dark Elf King Oikawa, huh?”

Oikawa just smiles back at you, reaching behind him to grab another poison arrow from his quiver as he says, “My, my. That red-headed light fairy wasn’t wrong when he said you had a strong will.”

You spit on the ground next to him, jutting your chin out you spew, “Pathetic. I expected more from you, Oikawa Tooru.”

The dark elf king just smiles maniacally at you, his brown locks of hair wavering from the heat of the fire, as he grabs the arrow from his quiver, quickly trying to catch it on the string of his bow.

However, you waste no time, raising your hands in front of you, you blast him into a solid tree trunk behind him. Oikawa’s hands drop both the bow and the arrows as he flies through the air, his back cracking against the firm wood behind him.

You find it within you to will the fires around you to calm, bringing the flames even with the forest floor before the embers burn out. As you step out of the ring of embers, you see Oikawa knocked unconscious against the base of a tree trunk.

Your (colored) eyes catch onto Tendo’s figure tending to Ushijima, and you go to scream at him to get away when you realize that your fellow light fairy is helping Ushijima.

You jog over to him, eyes frantically scanning over Ushijima’s large figure as you pant out, “Watch over Oikawa, I need to run to the shack and get some rope to tie him up.”

Tendo just nods as you take off sprinting, your legs carrying you toward the small house you had learned to call home. You barely register arriving at the house, finding the rope, and even making it back to the clearing where the three men were at.

You give the rope to Tendo to restrain the unconscious Oikawa as you kneel beside Ushijima, who was flickering in and out of consciousness. You start panicking, and you can feel the anxiety bubbling in your chest as you start to shake Ushijima, trying to keep him awake.

A sob of, “Please stay awake, Toshi. I grabbed an elixir from the medicine drawer when I ran back to the house. Please wake up!” Tears begin streaming down your face as your hands shakily fumble with the small glass bottle.

You call to Tendo, “Please help me get him against a tree so I can get this in his mouth!” Tendo had just finished tying up Oikawa before he returned to your side, helping you haul the large frame of Ushijima over to a tree, leaning him up against the trunk gently.

With your shaky hands, you pop the lid off of the elixir, allowing the mouth of the bottle to press against Ushijima’s lips as you pour the purple liquid onto his tongue. When the bottle is empty you pull away, your vision blurring as you gaze at the battered form of the man you had come to love.

A light cough leaves Ushijima’s throat, catching your attention before you’re hovering over him again, worrying etched in your features. With hazy eyes, he tries to focus on you as he asks, “Y/n? What happened? Where are we?”

A wavering sigh leaves your lips as you cup his face in your hands and you whisper, “You got shot by a poison arrow from Oikawa, Tendo’s back to himself. We are just outside of the river, I had to give you a potion to stop the poison from spreading.”

Ushijima doesn’t say anything, just slightly nods in your hands before his eyes close for a moment. Another cry leaves your lips as your hands tilt his face toward your own, your eyes scanning over his body rapidly, searching for any other major injuries.

You notice Tendo had managed to pull the arrow out, and as you take in Ushijima’s form, simply covered in a ripped up tank top and a pair of pants, covered in sweat, dirt, and blood, you can’t help but think it’s the most beautiful he’s ever looked.

“Please,” you whimper as you gently turn his face back and forth in your hands, tears streaming down your cheeks, “Please stay with me, Toshi.”

Tendo steps forward and says, “I think he’s just unconscious, I can carry him back to the shack if you want to stay here with Oikawa, I can bring back the cart to haul him to the Kingdom of the Griffins.”

You nod as you release your grip from his face, muffling your cries as you walk over to the tied-up form of Oikawa, and you can’t stand to see Tendo haul Ushijima’s body away.

You sit on the ground in front of Oikawa as you wait for Tendo to return, wincing in pain as you realize how beat up you actually were. Twenty or so minutes go by until you hear the sound of a horse’s hooves and a cart trailing behind it.

You turn to see Tendo driving Ushijima’s small cart and you smile when you realize Tendo had grabbed some chains too. You help the red-headed light fairy load up the unconscious body of Oikawa, helping his chain down the limbs of the dark elf.

A small smile sits on your lips as you look at Tendo and say, “Thank you, Tendo. I’m Y/n, I have been with Ushijima for a few months now. I appreciate your help, and it’s an honor to meet you.”

Tendo grabs your shoulder lightly with his own grin as he says, “No, thank you. I don’t know how Wakatoshi would have survived without me, and you have pushed him this far. The least I can do is take Oikawa to Prince Daichi’s palace, they can detain him there.”

You nod as the tall man jumps into the driver’s seat of the cart, calling over his shoulder, “The trip will take me a few days, I should be back in a week or so. The nearest town is about a half a day’s walk away from here if you need anything. Take care of Wakatoshi while I’m gone.”

You wave to Tendo’s disappearing figure as you begin your own trek back to the small house. You half limp, half walk back to the shack, your pace picking up when you realize Ushijima was left alone while you and Temdo dealt with Oikawa.

When you manage to make it through the front door, you stumble toward the bedroom. You burst into the room to see Ushijima peacefully resting on top of the covers.

You realize he’s in no immediate danger, so you take the time to strip out of your dirty clothes and give yourself a quick scrub down. Afterward, you carefully treat the wounds you can reach before changing into one of Ushijima’s large shirts and a pair of shorts.

Once you are clean and somewhat comfortable, you sit down next to Ushijima, taking a clean and damp washcloth to clean his skin. You wipe everything you can reach without having to remove any clothing, as you couldn’t lift his large form yourself.

You don’t notice the tears slipping down your cheeks until a warm and rough hand on your cheek alerts you. Ushijima is staring at you with half-lidded eyes as he mumbles, “You are so beautiful.”

A broken laugh leaves your lips as you lean into his touch, closing your eyes at the feeling of him being warm and alive next to you. Ushijima’s green eyes glow with love as he scans over your features.

He looks at the curve of your cheek under his palm, he looks at the soft gleam in your eye when you gaze at him, and he looks at the small smile settling on your lips because he’s still with you.

Ushijima allows his hand to travel from cupping your cheek to the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your (colored) locks of hair as he slowly sits up. You shift closer to him as he moves to lean his back against the headboard of the bed, and you gently sit on his lap as your faces near each other.

You lock eyes with the green-eyed wyvern morphling in front of you, and you can’t help the butterflies in your stomach as he observes you. Ushijima moves his other hand to rest on the lower part of your neck, pushing your body to allow your forehead to rest against his own.

The two of you are silent in that moment, sitting together, breathing together, living together, and for each other. Ushijima can’t help the way his eyes flick from your own to your lips, but he finds himself looking back into your eyes with complete and utter adoration.

His plump lips part slightly as he whispers, “You have my heart, Y/n. You have every part of me and my soul. I give myself to you, Y/n. I love you.”

A bright and blinding smile breaks out across your face as you press your forehead closer to his, and your eyes shut with tears of joy as you rest your hands on his broad shoulders.

Ushijima stays silent as he watches you, not an ounce of nervousness or care in the world for what he just said. He couldn’t be afraid when he just barely beat death, and he had you sitting on his lap, smiling at him.

He thought your smile was as bright as any light ray would have shined, and he feels his heart skip a beat when you open your mouth and reply, “I love you too, Toshi. You have my heart, my soul, and my body. I am yours.”

Ushijima gives you a breathtaking smile as he looks at you, brushing his nose against yours slightly as he basks in what he knows now to be your love for him.

You turn your head slightly, your heart beating faster when you take a glance at his mouth, and Ushijima quickly understands.

Ushijima uses the hand tangled in your hair to gently tip your head, tilting his own face slightly to the side as he leans into your touch. In a final bold move, Ushijima brushes his lips against your own parted ones.

You could feel your heart jump in your chest as your lips finally connect with Ushijima’s, a soft and inaudible gasp escaping your throat as you move your mouth against his own.

Ushijima melts in your touch, and he can’t help but crave the way you taste and feel against his mouth. Your kiss is slow, delicate, and everything he’s ever dreamed it to be and more.

Your lips seem to move in perfect rhythm with his own, and you let one hand smooth up Ushijima’s neck to run your fingers through his short locks of olive hair. Ushijima lets the kiss stay slow and wanting, never pushing you any further than you wanted to go.

You were addicted to the way his mouth tasted against your own, and despite the faint tang of blood, you knew he was everything you had ever wanted. You were almost sad when Ushijima started to pull away, but that feeling soon left when you saw the way he looked at you.

Those green eyes you had fallen in love with shined with adoration, and the smile on his lips told you that you were the reason behind it. You almost flush under the intensity of his gaze, so you lean forward again, chest heaving, to press a gentle and slow kiss to his lips.

Ushijima grunts softly at your movement, causing you to pull away rapidly when you realized your hand had slipped down to where the arrow had entered his shoulder.

You shift in his lap as you stutter out, “I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-” “It’s alright, my love,” Ushijima says softly, cupping your face again and rubbing his thumb under your eye in small circles.

You feel your heart swell at the sweet pet name and you smile down at him and whisper, “I love you, Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

He smiles back at you and replies, “And I, you.”

Tags: @mortedeveles @haikyuutothetop @miatsubaki23 @pocky-writes

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peachbear88 · 3 years ago

Text

A Whole New World (Pt 3)

A/N: So I have another idea for a oneshot or maybe series. "Forbidden Love". I think the name might already have been used but THIS IS THE PERFECT NAME FOR THE NEXT STORY AHHHHHHH! Anyways, back to the actual story at hand.

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You sit down cautiously in the leather seat in front of you, almost sighing. The chair is much more comfortable then you thought.

"So... what do you want from me?" You ask timidly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as his gaze sears into you.

"Why do you think I want something from you?" He asks and you meet his eyes, noticing the amused glint in them.

"Because you didn't hand me over to the police and instead, brought me here." You gesture to the spacious, glamorous office. He chuckles, standing up to look out the massive floor to ceiling window.

"Touchè." You fidget nervously, waiting for him to continue. "I saw you paying a visit to the youngest Maximoff." Your breath hitches in your throat as he turns to look at you. "Very skilled, the whole, swinging from the tree branch." You flush and he smirks. "Young love. I presume you'd like her hand in marriage as well." Your face turns an even brighter shade of red and he chuckles. Not a genuine, hearty chuckle but a cold, dark laugh.

"She has to marry someone that benefits the company though." You pause, letting the smallest sliver of hope leak into your speech. "Right?"

Loki laughs cruelly, crushing the liquid hope you had.

"Correct. But. I can help you." You look up into his icy green eyes and he smirks. "I can make you rich enough to qualify for her hand in marriage. Powerful enough." You lean forward eagerly but he leans back, knowing fully well he had you wrapped around his little finger. "Nothing comes for free though."

You reach into your pocket, pulling out the brooch and examining it. You take a deep breath, steeling your resolve before turning back to him.

"What would I have to do?"

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"All I need is for you to go into that cave and fetch me an object. A simple oil lamp to be specific." You arch an eyebrow.

"Easy peasey." He stops you, pulling you back from the mouth of the cavern.

"Not so fast. You cannot touch any of the treasures in there, no matter how tempted. And trust me, you will be tempted." You gulp, noting the ominous tone in his voice.

"Got it. How hard could it really be?" You mutter, slowly inching down the cavern. A pebble slips, sending you tumbling down the semi-smooth stone slide. You scream as you fall, hitting the bottom of the slide with a grunt. "Didn't see that coming." Dusting yourself off, you slink through the dark, ominous cave. The further you descend into the cave, the more tempting the mounds of gold and jewels become. The cavern expands, leading into a massive area, dozens of tall, sharp pillars looming above you. Dead in the center, perched upon the tallest pillar is the desired lamp. You smile, stepping towards the pillar only to be upended by a small gem. You go flying, squeezing your eyes shut as you prepare yourself for the harsh impact but it never comes. Instead, you find yourself on a fluffy carpet. It ripples beneath you, and for a moment, you fear the whole cave is coming apart. Then the carpet pushes you off it and you shriek. The carpet, the carpet that just caught you is moving. You examine it curiously, pacing around it.

"A frickin' magic carpet." You exclaim as it watches you inspect it, impatiently gesturing towards the giant slab of stone crushing it. You scratch your chin before slipping your fingers between a small gap under the rock. "Alright, here we go." You grunt, heaving the rock. The carpet tugs and the moment the stone lifts a little, the carpet zips out, dipping and whirling around the cavern, sending gold cascading everywhere. Eventually, it calms down, circling around you and patting your shoulders enthusiastically. "Not a problem bud." You return your attention to the towering pillar in front of you. "Alright. Let's do this."

You pull yourself up, following the pre-set trail you had created for yourself as you grip another sharp handhold. A bit of blood trickles down from a thin cut on your palm and you grimace before continuing your steep climb. Your muscles are on fire, the thin cut on your hand tearing wider and wider every second. With one final pull, you reach the top of the pillar, the dusty lamp shining right back at you. Not wasting a second, you grab the lamp and slowly lower yourself down to where the carpet stands, watching you with anticipation.

"All right! Now to get out of here..." You dust of your thin, ragged pants, leaving a thick line of blood smeared on the fabric. After a few moments, you locate the tunnel you came from and make your way up the steep slope. Your footsteps echo off the large cave as you reach the large stone slide. A gem next to your foot catches your eye and you lean down, examining it. The carpet frantically waves at you, even slapping you but you push it away, picking up the gem. "No one's going to notice one small gem missing. I could go without stealing for a whole month without this gem." You shrug before slipping it into your pocket. The effect is instantaneous, a roaring voice echoing through the cave.

"You have touched the forbidden treasure. Now, you will never again see the light of day!" Molten lava spews forth from the cracks in the cavern, rapidly covering the stone. You jump up, leaping from stone to stone, clambering up the rocky slide. At the mouth of the cave, Loki stands, watching you frantically scale the rocky wall, unable to find the strength to pull yourself up the last bit of the wall.

"A little help would be nice!" You cry and Loki peers down at you, golden staff in hand.

"Give me the lamp first." He sneers and you resist.

"No. Your hand first!" He leans closer to you and his once handsome features contort into an angry scowl.

"Give me the lamp first." He repeats and you relent, reaching into your pocket and handing him the lamp. He examines it greedily while you cling onto the rock face.

"Now your hand!" He looks back down at you, all the kindness from before gone.

"How about my foot?" Your eyes widen as he raises his foot and steps on your hand, squishing it. You cry out in pain as he relentlessly twists his foot, agonizing pain shooting up your arm. Unable to hold on any longer, you fall, the sweltering heat radiating against your body before you hit a soft surface, soaring up into the air. Prying your eyes open, you look down to see carpet, speeding towards the entrance of the cave where Loki stands, still entranced by the lamp. The carpet speeds up and you reach out, snatching the lamp from Loki's hands. Loki roars in anger, pushing you backwards with the butt of his staff as the cave crumbles. Rocks tumble down, covering the entrance as you fly backwards towards a certain doom. Right at the last moment, carpet catches you and the two of you go tumbling back down into the darkness of the cave.

--------------

"Ugh..." You groan, your eyes fluttering open. You're greeted by a brightly colored carpet hovering above you. "Hi." You mutter, pushing yourself into a sitting position. The lamp is still tightly clutched in your hand and you stare at it, wondering what that man could've possibly wanted from such a dusty relic. You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck before returning your attention to the carpet. "Well, you know any way out of here buddy?" The carpet makes exaggerated gestures with it's golden tassels at the lamp. You hold up the lamp, confused. "This old thing?" The carpet nods vigorously (at least you think it's nodding) and you shrug. "What's the worst that could happen." You take a deep breath, slowly rubbing at the lamp with your injured hand, blood smearing over the dusty brass surface. Slowly but surely, a thick blue fog spirals out of the lamp, revealing a massive blue figure. You stumble backwards, still clinging onto the lamp.

"Oh great one who summons me, terrible one who commands me, I stand by my oath, loyalty to wishes three." The figure roars. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, just a pathetic little whimper.

"Eh..."

He clears his throat, peering down into the darkness.

"I said, 'Oh great...'" His eyes land on you. "Excuse, me, dude, where's your boss?" You stand there, gaping as he waves his massive blue hands in front of your face. "Help me out here, where's your boss? If I was just gonna talk to myself, I could've stayed in the lamp."

"Eh... Uh...." You gulp as he stares at you impatiently.

"Hellooooooooo!"

"I uh.... I'm talking to uh.... Smoking blue giant?"

"No! BRRRRRRRRR." He hums out, shrinking down and swirling around you. "I am not a giant, I am a genie. There is a difference." He retorts, waving his finger in front of you. "Giants are not real." He reclines back, leaving you frozen in shock. "Where's your boss?"

"Uh, my boss?"

He sighs.

"Look, kid, I've been doing this a long time, all right? There's always a guy, you know..." You watch his hands, noting how he uses them to gesture with every word he utters. "He's cheated somebody, or buried somebody." He explains, teleporting behind you and floating around. "I mean, you get my point. Where's that guy?" You nod in understanding.

"I know that guy. He's outside." The genie's face lights up.

"So, it's just you and me down here?" A telescope appears in his hand with a blue puff and he scans the cave through it, his brown eye bulging out from the glass. You nod, unable to form coherent words. "So you rubbed the lamp?"

"Uh-huh." He scratches his goatee.

"Huh. Do you mind if I just, you know, stretch it out over here?" He asks, already floating away from you. You look around the cave, searching for another being that the genie could possibly be asking.

"Uh, are you asking me?" He groans as he stretches out.

"Yeah, you're my master." You laugh dryly, swallowing.

"Yeah no, you look like you should be my master."

The genie shrugs, looking you up and down.

"Yeah, but that's not quite how it works." You stare at the lamp, mystified.

"How long have you been in here?"

"'Bout a thousand years." You stare at him skeptically.

"A thousand years?"

"A ThoUSanD YeARs." He mocks you, sitting down on a rock. "Is it just me or does everything surprise you?" You don't answer and he sighs, floating towards you. "So you really don't know who I am. Genie, wishes, lamp, none of that ringing a bell?" You don't respond and he looks taken aback. "Wow. Well, that's a first." He teleports a few feet away, snapping his fingers. "Monkey!" A small, frail looking monkey appears with cymbals and a band drum attached to it's back. It starts clapping the cymbals together rhythmically and blowing into a small kazoo. You stare at the monkey and the genie brushes you off. "Oh, don't worry 'bout him, he's fine." The genie starts clapping along before bursting into song.

"Well, Ali Baba, he had them 40 thieves,"

"Scheherazade had a thousand tales."

"But master, you're in luck,"

"Because up your sleeves, you got a genie that never fails!"

He finishes with jazz hands, the monkey's kazoo dying off with a slight squeak. You look at the carpet apprehensively only to see it clapping it's stray threads off.

"Whoo!" The genie exclaims, zooming around. "I'm the best." You stare at him, unbelieving. He sighs.

"Not enough, huh?" You don't reply. "I'm kidding, watch this."

A beam of blue light shoots out of his finger tip, hitting the monkey, who goes flying. The monkey lands on a tall pile of rock, behind a drum set. A jazzy upbeat tune fills the dark cavern.

"Here I go!"

"Uh! Ooh! Whoo!"

"Back up!"

The carpet disappears, reappearing on another tall pile of rock, shaking a pair of maracas rhythmically.

"Uh-oh! Watch out!"

He scats and a trumpet appears in the monkey's mouth, blasting out a high note.

"You done wound me up!"

"'Bout to show you what I'm workin' with. Uh!"

"Well, Ali Baba he had them 40 thieves,"

"Scheherazade had a thousand tales!"

"But, master, you're in luck because up your sleeves,"

"You got a brand of magic never fails."

The genie appears behind you, the golden shackles on his forearms glowing with power.

"You got some power in your corner now,"

"Heavy ammunition in your camp!"

His arms turn into golden cannons that fire bright blue blasts to emphasize his point.

"You got some punch, pizzazz,"

"Yahoo, and how?"

"All you gotta do is rub that lamp,"

"And then I'll say,"

"Missus, man what's your name, whatever, what will your pleasure be?"

"Let me take your order I'll jot it down,"

"You ain't never had a friend like me."

He picks you up and plops you into an elegant restaurant where a menu is thrown in front of you.

"Life is your restaurant and I'm your maître d'."

"Come whisper to me whatever it is you want,"

"You ain't never had a friend like me!"

"We pride ourselves on service!"

"You the boss, the king, the shah!"

"Say what you wish, it's yours, true dish!"

"How 'bout a lil more paprikash?"

You disappear behind mounds of the Sokovian delicacy, reappearing between racks of clothing.

"Have some of column A,"

"Try all of column B."

Blue strings attach themselves to your arms and you find yourself being whirled around, dancing, but from your point of view, you look like a flailing chicken.

"I'm in the mood to help you dude,"

"You ain't never had a friend like me."

He starts scatting as he pulls you around like a puppet.

"Can your friends do this?"

You point to a clone of the genie, who's standing on his head, his lower half spinning around like a disco ball.

"Can your friends do that?"

You point the other way to another clone of the genie who is whirling around a magic lasso.

"Can your friends pull this,"

"Outta they lil hat?"

He reaches into a top hat and slowly pulls out the magic carpet.

"Can your friends go,"

He starts beatboxing, bright flares shooting illuminating the cave.

"I'm the genie, of the lamp, I can sing rap dance if you give me a chance."

A couch appears behind you and you fall backwards, landing on the plush cushions.

"Don't sit there buggy eyed,"

"I'm here to answer all your mid-day prayers."

"You got me bona fide,"

"Certified,"

"You got a genie for your charged affairs."

He slaps a certificate into your hands and the couch zooms forward at light speed, throwing you off. You wave your arms desperately, attempting to balance yourself as you teeter precariously above a pit of molten magma. The genie pulls you back by the hook of your jacket.

"I got a powerful urge,"

"To help you out,"

"So whatcha wish,"

"I really wanna know."

"You got a list that's 3 miles long no doubt."

"All you gotta do is rub like so."

The lamp goes flying into your hands as the genie appears next to you.

"Missus?"

"Y/N." You reply.

"Yes!"

“One wish or two or three?"

"Well, I'm on the job, you big nabob,"

"You ain't never had a friend,"

"Never had a friend."

"You ain't never had a friend,"

"Never had a friend."

"You ain't never."

"Had a."

"Friend."

"Like."

"Me!"

He scats as fireworks go off, lighting the cave up in blue, red, green, gold and purple.

"You ain't never had a friend like me."

The scene fades and you stand there, still trying to comprehend the turn of events. The genie's large blue face appears in front of you.

"You can clap now." He smirks, imitating a mic drop. You raise your hands slowly to clap and he immediately stops you. "No, no no, please, please. You can thank me outside. In the sun. When you wish us out." You smile numbly before shaking your head.

"Wait so.... how does it work?" The genie's face drops into disbelief.

"You're.... You're kidding right?" He sputters, shrinking back down to a normal size. "The- The whole song was the- The instructions!" He grabs your hand, sighing. "Obviously you can't dance and listen at the same time. "So here's the basics." The lamp appears in his hand and he mimes rubbing it. "Step one, rub the lamp." A second head appears on his body. "Step 2, say what you want." A third head appears. "Step 3." The other two heads disappear as you continue walking hand in hand with the genie. "There is no step 3! See, it's that easy!" He waves his hand. "You get three wishes.They must begin with you rubbing the lamp and saying 'I wish' got it?" You nod slowly.

"I think so...." He smiles.

"Great! A few more rules. You can't wish for more wishes, 3 is enough. I can't make anybody love anybody." Pink hearts float around his head. "Or bring anybody back from the dead." Papyrus wraps around him, muffling his speech and giving it an eerie feeling. "Feel free to interrupt me anytime you don't understand." You give a sigh of relief, opening your mouth to ask a question but he immediately cuts you off. "I'm kidding, don't ever interrupt me, no matter what." You close your mouth. "Now, I usually don't have to go through all this because by the time the guy." He emphasizes 'the guy' with little quotation marks. "Gets to me, he already knows what he wants and it generally has to do with," He clears his throat expanding to a large size, a red glow hugging his blue skin. "Tons of money and power! Mwahahahaha!" He exclaims evilly, money raining down from the roof of the cave. He shrinks back down into his normal size. "Do me a favor, do not drink from that cup. I promise you, there is not enough money or power on Earth for you to be satisfied. Good? Well, what's your first wish?" You scratch your chin thoughtfully.

"Well, I have to think about it. I mean, if there are only 3," The genie scoffs in disbelief. "I mean, why are there only 3 anyways?" He cuts you off, waving his hands about.

"I don't know! Who cares?" You smirk, approaching him.

"You don't know? I thought you were all knowing."

"That's 'cause you don't listen. I never said I was all knowing, I said I was all powerful." He quips. "The most powerful being in the universe." He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Look, whatever I don't know, I know I can learn it. Outside in the sun. Why are you playing hard to wish?" He exclaims exasperatedly. "Give us some sun!" You relent, smiling and placing the lamp behind you.

"All right Genie. I wish for you to get us out of this cave."

"Boom! Booyah!" The genie zooms around excitedly. "She has made her first wish!" He reappears in a flight attendant uniform holding a safety brochure. "Thank you for choosing Genie Airlines. Please don't forget to tip your genie on the way out!" 3 more genies appear behind him in similar uniform, waving at you. "Hold yourself kid!" He whirls around you, bright blue fog enveloping you until you finally reappear outside on the outskirts of Sokovia.

"Whoa." You mutter, nauseated at the sudden movement. The carpet does a flip, soaring off into the air. "Why is the monkey still here?" You gesture to the little frail monkey next to you.

"Oh. Uh, consider it a gift." You shrug, picking the monkey up and depositing it on your shoulder. He snaps and the two of you are sitting under a makeshift tent, a chess board between the two of you. You gulp, holding your head. "Can you warn me before you do that?" He waves you off.

"You'll get used to it. So, have you decided what you're going to wish for?" He bites into an apple. You shrug.

"Nope. Haven't really thought about it." The genie laughs, depositing the apple on the chess board.

"Wow. You really are not that guy." You sit up in the woven tanning chair, watching the genie.

"So what would you wish for." The genie examines you thoughtfully before staring back at Sokovia.

"Easy. I would wish to be free." He raps his knuckles against the golden bands on his forearms. "To not have to say," Poof! He reappears in front of you in a waiter's uniform. "How may I help you?" Poof! He reappears in the chair beside you in his normal outfit. "Freedom. I wish to be human." You look at him curiously.

"Why don't you just set yourself free?" He laughs derisively, clapping.

"Only way I can be set free is if the owner of the lamp uses one of their wishes to set me free. The last time that happened was like, the fourth of Never-ary."

"I'll do it." You volunteer. "I've got 3 right?"

"Actually, 2. You used one to get out of the cave." The genie corrects and you smirk.

"DId I? Or did you? I thought I had to be rubbing the lamp."

"Okay little street-girl. Let's rewind the tape." He imitates a cassette tape rewinding. He examines the playback. "Okay! I see what you did there." You smile at him.

"At least now I can use my last wish to set you free." He leans forward in his woven tanning chair..

"See this is the thing. The more you have, the more you want." You look out at Sokovia.

"That's not me." The genie hums skeptically.

"We'll see about that."

"But... There is something." You sigh and the genie instantly notices the lovesick expression on your face.

"Oh! Seen that look before." With a blue puff, he appears in front of you, lying on his stomach, his chin resting on his hands. "Who's the guy?" You don't look at him.

"It's.... It's a girl." He smiles at you supportively.

"Well, I can't make anyone fall in love with anyone." You quickly shake your head.

"No, no. We had a connection." He quirks an eyebrow at you.

"Alright, alright."

"She's smart, kind, incredibly beautiful. But she has to marry- Hold on, can you make me rich?" The genie teleports back to his chair.

"Kid, there is a lot of gray area in 'Make me rich'." He snaps his fingers and a rich business man in a stylish black suit appears a few feet away. "I could just make you rich." You immediately backpedal, shaking your head.

"No, no, no." The genie nods.

"Right 'cause then you'd be stuck with this guy. Be specific with your words. The key is in the detail." He advises and you nod. "Which I don't really understand because if she already likes you, why change?"

You shrug.

"I told you, she has to marry someone that benefits her family's business." The genie stands up, fiddling with his fingers.

"Alright, I can do that. An official wish this time, for those of us that are counting." You clear your throat nervously.

"Genie, I wish..." He snaps his fingers, pointing at the lamp. "Oh right! Sorry." You pick up the lamp, rubbing it. "All right. Genie..." He raises his hands in mock surrender.

"Don't hurt em Genie."

"I wish... to become rich." You squeeze your eyes shut, preparing for the worst. The genie smiles, waving his hands.

"Back up kid, I need some room to work. I'm gonna fabulize you."

-------------

Taglist: @username23345 @musicinourlips @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @ima-gi--na-tion @nicole-rayleigh-hot

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff angst #marvel au #avengers #wanda maximoff #wanda angst #wanda fluff

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yellowocaballero · 4 years ago

Text

Jon & Sasha Arson fic

Little fragment of an idea that never went anywhere. No reason for it. Just thought it would be funny. I was right. Rest under the cut.

Most people who were unlucky enough to meet Jonathan Sims assumed he had no friends.

This was true, up to a point two weeks after Jon became a researcher at the Magnus Institute: afterwards Jon had no friends, except for Sasha James.

Sasha James was attributable to arson.

Most people who were unlucky enough to meet Jonathan Sims assumed he had no friends.

This was true, up to a point two weeks after Jon became a researcher at the Magnus Institute: afterwards Jon had no friends, except for Sasha James.

*******

Sasha James was attributable to arson.

Arson was attributable to a bookshelf of Leitners, humming strange songs and spewing toxic energy into the air in rhythmic hissing motions. The Leitners were attributable to Artifact Storage, a testament to mankind’s hubris and a modern-day tower of Babel where a group of underpaid academics found themselves stress testing kevlar and fire suppression systems each day. Artifact Storage was attributable to the Magnus Institute, where Jon had managed to land a job after three months of desolate post-graduate unemployment. And the Magnus Institute was attributable to - well, probably Jonah Magnus, but Jon found that it was likely a bit of a reach to blame a long dead Regency gentleman for all of his problems.

Jon needed this job. London was expensive and so were funerals, and he couldn’t keep living on life insurance forever. It was even a good job, with decent pay and the exact kind of limp, half-hearted academia that the private sector promised disillusioned English mastery holders. His coworkers were nice - well, Tim was nice, everybody else seemed to hate him for the same reason that everybody else hated him, likely intimidated by how smart he was - and the commute was short. He couldn’t afford to lose this job. Spiritually, metaphysically, and literally.

Which was why he should stop staring at this piece of paper. The follow-up research to a statement given by some idiot unlucky enough to cross paths with what was certainly a Leitner.

‘ORIGINATION OF PHENOMENA ISOLATED’, the page read out professionally, yet chipperly, like a young woman in a new office job. ‘ITEM QUARANTINED WITHIN ARTIFACT STORAGE (46B.1)’.

Hm.

Jon pushed down on the floor, rolling himself a meter to the left.

“Say, er, Mr. Stoker.”

Tim “I’m only four years older than you, please call me Tim” Stoker, who had been thumping away on his cheap plastic keyboard either writing up a report or messaging someone on one of those infernal casual sex websites, pulled down his headphones and blinked at Jon owlishly, before splitting his face into a grin. Jon could practically hear the David Attenborough-style narration within his mind: ‘After long weeks leaving out food for the wild Simothan, the feral yet gentle animal approaches the researcher of his own volition. A win for scientists everywhere.’

“Yes, Jon?” Tim asked, in an uncanny yet hopefully unintentional RP drawl.

“What’s Artifact Storage?”

“God, I wish I was you,” Tim said feelingly. But he nodded sagely anyway, milking his ‘wise senpai’ thing for all it was worth. Jon could practically feel Tim calling himself a senpai. It was kind of embarrassing. “You know the shady room locked deep within the basement that exudes a terrible aura of malice and hatred towards you specifically?”

“The gender neutral bathroom?” Jon asked, confused.

“No, the one that always smells somewhat of blood. You hear screams sometimes?”

“The Archives!”

“Yes, but no! It’s Artifact Storage. If the researchers dig up any creepy shit from a statement, or if a statement giver brings in something that melts the metal detector, then we dump it in Artifact Storage and let those miserable fucks take care of it.”

“Is it more of a containment facility, or would you say that they conduct experiments?”

But Tim just shrugged. “My source down there tells me that they do some experiments to justify their budget, but it’s mostly unscientific. Poke this and I’ll give you twenty quid, that kind of thing. They say that if you really want a sick day, all you have to do is touch a mysterious rock and whisper your mother’s name -”

“Fantastic, thank you for your help, must go back to filling now,” Jon said quickly, skittering back to his own desk. He tried to distract himself from the terrifying thought of the basement full of supernatural nuclear bombs underneath his feet by trying to remember his mother’s name, but he was stuck on if it was Marjorie or Margaret. Mary Anne?

Maybe Tim’s personal Meerkat Manor series of Jon’s life had paid off - Sims Shack? - more than Jon would like, because Tim squinted at Jon in an unsettlingly familiar way. As if he knew exactly what Jon was thinking about the literature of mass destruction, and he really wanted Jon to be thinking literally anything else.

“I wouldn’t go down there if I were you, Jon,” Tim warned, sounding a little like a horror movie trailer. “Bushy tailed college grads who go down there don’t come out the same as they went in.”

“I’ll take that under advisement, Mr. Stoker.”

“For the love of christ call me Tim!”

It really was a pity - Jon had actually liked this job.

*******

It was remarkably easy to commit arson in central London.

Jon had done it once or twice. Three times, actually, although when you think about it arson was a criminal charge and only truly existed so long as someone was charged with it, so technically you could say that Jon had done arson zero times. In his defense, you try making it through Oxford without doing anything embarrassing. 90% of your time was in class or schoolwork and 10% of it was being hazed. At least Jon hadn’t fucked any pigs.

Jon hit up the usual stores, and stashed the usual implements in his rucksack. It was a careful week after his conversation with Tim, as he couldn’t afford for the older man to connect the dots. He made a show of going home at a timely five pm, startling everybody around him, and paced in a tight circle around his flat until he gave up and watched mindless telly until the clock struck midnight.

He took a cab to the park a few blocks down from the Institute, and walked the rest of the way. It was a cool, dim night in London, and the foot-traffic had slowed down to a steady trickle of young people in tight clothing. Jon pulled down his baseball cap on his head, fished a key out from his pocket given to him by a helpful and friendly janitor, and took a back entrance into the Institute.

Said helpful and friendly janitor, whose allegiance had been won because Jon was a “nice young lad” and “I always wanted to burn down the place myself, I’m happy to see the next generation give it a go” had helpfully told Jon that there were no security cameras inside the Institute. A grievous oversight, but good luck for Jon tonight. He took the stairs down to the basement, zipping his jacket up tight against the inescapable chill, and pushed his hat further down his head as he navigated his way towards Artifact Storage.

He unlocked the door with the janitor’s key, hands shaking, and slipped inside into the dusky and unlit room.

It was pitch-black, and Jon quickly fished a torch out of his backpack. He flipped it on, letting it slowly scan the room. It was the lobby into Artifact Storage, familiar from his stake-out missions: you walked in, met the bored woman behind the desk, checked in or checked out what you wanted, and if you needed to go inside she would press the button that unlocked the heavy climate-controlled door and let you into the hallway inside. The only other door in the lobby was to the office of the Director of Artifact Storage, a terrifying short and squat woman with silver hair pulled into a bun.

Jon leaned over the counter and jammed the button, holding his breath until he heard the door click open. He quickly twisted the handle, swung the heavy door out, and slipped inside, taking care to grab one of the chairs in the lobby and prop it open. Quick escapes were necessary.

He was in.

The torch lit up a map taped up to the wall, and Jon squinted at it. Section A, Section B, Section C...he remembered the classification from the document he read a week ago, and slowly walked down the hallway until he found the heavy climate controlled door marked ‘SECTION B’. He carefully wrenched it open, taking care to grab a rolling cart and using it to prop the door open, before stepping inside. He fished the canister of gasoline and the lighter out of his backpack, giving the gasoline a good shake.

It was a library. Small, and instead of shelves there were long metal racks with filing boxes stretching long into the darkness, but Jon knew a library when he saw one. Each box had a clipboard attached to it, and most boxes had very large and terrifying stickers on them painted sickly yellow or dangerous red.

The only thing in the library that wasn’t a filing rack was a battered and beat couch. And the only person in the room besides Jon was a woman, blinking up at Jon blearily from where she had been passed out on the couch.

“Er,” Jon said.

The woman sat up, squinting at Jon’s torchlight until he guiltily aimed it just to her left. She had a wild mane of curly brown hair, and was wearing a pencil skirt and ruffled burgundy blouse. A blazer was folded at one end of the couch, clearly being used as a pillow, and she looked strongly as if Jon had just woken her up from a very nice nap.

“Whuh,” the sleepy woman said.

“My mistake,” Jon said, “this isn’t the loo. Go back to bed, this is - er, a very bad dream, goodnight.”

“Whutuhiseet,” the woman slurred.

“It’s - very late, go back to bed.”

“Alright,” the woman said, falling back on the couch. After a second, her snores echoed through the room again.

Jon very slowly crept backwards. Actually, on second thought, his mission could wait for tomorrow. Bit of a cock block, this, but that was alright -

“Hey! Who are you!”

Jon, hand on the handle of the door, squeaked and turned around.

The woman was back up again, and this time she seemed actually awake. She was frowning mightily at Jon, and was already sliding off the couch in stocking feet to glare at him. Jon was aware that he did not look like an innocent person in these events. The gasoline did not help.

The woman’s eyes trailed to the gasoline, then widened. Jon ineffectually tried to hide it behind his back.

“You’re trying to burn down Artifact Storage!” the woman accused, somewhat fairly.

“Not all of Artifact Storage,” Jon said guiltily, “just the Leitners.”

The woman stared at him further, as if she was a special guest on Tim’s Sims Shack nature documentary.

“Why,” the woman said slowly, “would you want to do that?”

Despite himself, Jon found himself puffing up in indignation. “They’re evil, nasty little books that shouldn’t exist. Forget studying and - and containing them, we should be making sure no more of them ever disgrace the world again. We should be burning every one we see. They’re pure evil given literary form, they are a disgrace to books and libraries, and if I ever met Leitner myself I would beat him to death with a rusty pipe for subjecting me to his fucked up books.”

The woman stared at him.

Finally, she said, “I’m Sasha James. Want some help?”

“I - er, wouldn’t that get you in trouble, Ms. James?”

“I like this job but I hate Leitner and his fucked up books more,” Sasha said gravely.

Jon, having found a kindred spirit, held out the lighter.

Sasha James took it, a wide grin splitting her face.

*********

Jon didn’t remember much else of that night.

There was definitely arson involved - or, seeing as they hadn’t gotten caught, just some good old-fashioned fire starting. He had the sense that they had both been so giddy with adrenaline that they had immediately joined the raging uni students in the late night bars, toasting their success in toasting. There had probably been quite a bit of alcohol.

When he woke up the next morning, it was in his narrow and uncomfortable bed, face to face with an unfamiliar snoring woman. For a second, two, Jon was briefly convinced that he had done something so drastically out of character it meant that a fucked up book had body swapped him with Tim. Bodyswapping was more likely than him having casual sex.

Then Jon remembered the arson, and he exhaled in relief as his life made sense again.

“Ms. James,” Jon whispered, poking her in the arm. She snuffled and muttered something. Jon poked her harder. “Ms. James, we have work.”

Sasha turned around, turning her back to him and pulling up the blankets. “Go back to bed, Tim.”

Ti - oh god. Jon felt like he was in a CW drama. This was why he didn’t interact with people, far too much likelihood that he would accidentally end up interacting with somebody who had sex.

“Ms. James,” Jon hissed, extremely embarrassed, “you have to get up!”

“Mergh mergh fuck off,” Sasha James said.

Jon, like a true gentleman and hero, got up and made them both strong tea. He squinted at Sasha, recalling everything he knew about her (slept a lot, liked arson, hated Jurgen Leitner) before digging out some instant coffee and making some of that too. Finally, after shoving a hot cup of sludgey black liquid at the woman, she grabbed the cup and chugged it until she was able to sit up and open her eyes.

She blinked at Jon, who was already picking his hair in an attempt to get ready for work. He could clearly see the thoughts ‘you aren’t Tim’ run through her brain. Hah! He could be the narrator of the nature documentary for once!

“Uh,” Sasha James said, “I’m sorry, did we…?”

“Commit arson? Yes.” Jon paused a beat. “But as I don’t believe we were caught, call it an indoor campfire.”

Sasha James drank more of her coffee. Jon grabbed his clothing and disappeared into the loo to get changed.

When he re-entered his bedroom, she snapped her fingers at him. “Right! We got pissed after! Good times, mate!”

“I have to assume,” Jon said politely. He was doing his very best to be very polite, because Jon knew he was rude and didn’t want his new coworkers to know that until his probation period was over. Maybe he should have waited until after his probation period for the arson? Would it look bad on his annual review? “Do you need to borrow some clothing? I think we’re about the same size.” Oh, no, was that rude to say to a woman?

Sasha James squinted at him. “It’s like you’re not hungover at all. How old are you?”

“Twenty five?” Be polite, Jon! “And you’re...thirty seven?”

“I’m thirty one, asshole!”

Oh no. Women hated it when you called them old. “You don’t look a day over twenty seven!” Jon cried, panicked.

“Have you met a woman?”

“I had a grandmother?”

“I’m going back to bed,” Sasha James said.

Unfortunately, Jon knew that it would be very suspicious if they both skipped, so he forced Sasha into one of his suits that...looked much nicer on her than him, but whatever, and hustled them both to work. Now that the adrenaline had worn away and the sense of purpose in his holy mission had burned up with the cleansing flames, Jon found himself biting his nails in agony in the Underground.

They had to know. Someone must have caught them. Maybe there were secret CCTVs in the Institute. Maybe Sasha was going to rat him out - but she had helped, so wouldn’t she just be ratting out herself? Was she a double agent? Mr. Bouchard was never going to forgive him, no matter how nice he was and how much he seemed to like Jon to the point where he rather wished someone had given him the ‘Stranger Danger’ speech as a child so he would know what to do. Jon was going to go to jail, or worse - get fired.

Sasha, cooly sipping her coffee and looking somewhat fly in sunglasses and his suit, did not seem disturbed by any of this. Jon’s rapidly spiralling panic attack must have been obvious, because she casually flicked a finger on his forehead. Jon yelped with pain.

“Take it easy, mate. If they catch us, I’ll just say that the books made us do it.”

Jon scowled at her, rubbing his smarting forehead. “The books?”

“Sure.” She waved her fingers spookily as the Underground rattled forward into the heart of London. “Brainwashed us to do their evil bidding of -”

“Destroying them?”

“There’s a lot of arson Leitners,” Sasha James said sagely. “Trust me, this is just a normal day in Artifact Storage.” She clapped him reassuringly on the shoulder, and Jon fought a blush. “Don’t worry. We performed a public service, kiddo. St. Peter’s gonna give us a medal when we get to the pearly gates.”

“I’m an adult,” Jon said, scandalized. He had gray hair!

“Well, I guess, but I don’t know your name, so…”

Jon squinted at her. She squinted at him back.

“You’re thinking that if you don’t give me your name I can’t rat you out to the feds,” Sasha said flatly.

Jon pursed his lips.

Finally, he settled on, “You don’t rat me out to the feds and I won’t tell them that you’re in an illicit relationship with Mr. Stoker.”

“Mr. - how did - what!”

“It’s Jonathan Sims,” Jon said gruffly, crossing his arms. He was slightly hungover and his nerve were jittery and he had set fire to his workplace the previous night, but somehow Jon thought that his heart was jackrabbiting in his chest for a different reason. Somehow Jon felt as if his heart couldn’t stop thumping behind his sternum because Sasha James was staring at him, head cocked, as if he was a mystery she was interested in finding out. “That’s my name.”

Sasha James stared at him, as if surprised, before her face broke into a wide and happy smile. Jon hunched his shoulders up, embarrassed, faintly aware he was blushing. “It’s nice to meet you, Jonathan!” Then she grabbed him by the collar, shaking him slightly. “And there is nothing illicit about me and Tim, and there is nothing between me and Tim at all, we are just friends, so get that out of your little head -”

The train rattled on towards the Magnus Institute, and towards the slight smell of smoke in the air.

*******

Sasha: are you coming 2 the pub w/us 2nite?

Sasha: come onnn you should comeee don’t feel awkwardddd

Sasha: I know you hate a) group settings b) drunk people c) Tim in a group d) drunk Tim and e) Tim drunk in a group but that’s no reason not to come!

Sasha: Tim is physiologically incapable of not adopting men 3-5 years younger than him it’s in his blood you can’t escape his affection

Sasha: or at least I find it funny so I’m not letting you

Sasha: Jonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

Jon: Yes I’ll come, I need to talk to both of you.

Sasha: WAHOO

Sasha: wait

Sasha: really?

Sasha: did you commit ars*on again

Sasha: wait if you did don’t tell me the courts can request text transcripts

Jon: No, I just need your advice on an urgent matter.

Sasha: do you need to be drunk to do it

Jon: ...maybe.

Jon: ....Mr. Bouchard offered me the Head Archivist Job?

Jon: Which is stupid because I’ve worked here for barely four years and you’ve worked here for about ten years I think. And you’ve published five papers in parapsychological research. I know I helped you figure out that this place is a weird trauma mill but it was really mostly you. It’s completely ridiculous to promote me and I’m afraid it’s favoritism. For potentially heinous ends? This feels awful because it’s such an honor but I would never stop feeling stressed and guilty because I know so many more people (like you) are so much more qualified. Or qualified at all.

Sasha: holy shit

Sasha: ...do you remember the speech I gave you on stranger danger?

Jon: I’m afraid to mention this to Tim because he might beat up Mr. Bouchard for both my honor and yours.

Sasha: Jesus at this point I don’t even want a fucking job anymore. What bullshit. I’m never going to get promoted and I just need to accept that. This isn’t your fault, Jon, seriously, thank you for telling me.

Sasha: we can talk about this at the pub

Sasha: in private. Off the radar.

Jon: Looking forward to it :)

Jon: did I use the emoticon right?

Sasha: Yes, Jon, you did everything right.

#tma #jonathan sims #the magnus archives #tma fanfic #the magnus archives fanfic #sasha james-centric #this is an implied fix-it everybody lives fic #crack #comedy #absolutely nothing sad? in a MEG FIC?#sasha james #tim stoker #jon is based off me at a new job anxiously calling everyone 'mr'#rest assured sasha is trans but it just never came up #my writing

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nightshadedawn · 3 years ago

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Writing prompts!!

Select one of the prompts and a ship and I'll write 300 words for it! I'll keep this open for a week!

Prompts are broken up into categories and further numbered within those categories to help everyone quickly find prompts, so please either give me the category and number of prompt or the prompt itself.

Fuck

"Fuck you." "You know what, [name], I've been trying but you haven't been cooperating." "What."

"I don't hate you." "You bought an entire fucking island to avoid me so we wouldn't be roommates our second year of college." "It obviously didn't work out well because we still ended up in Art History together."

"I'm fucked, I'm screwed. I'm gonna faaaaiillll."

"Well, fuck me and leave me to bleed."

"You're crazy." "Yeah, I'm fucking insane!"

"I have fucking questions!"

"You sir- are fucking hilarious."

"I love you but you're a fucking idiot."

"Love- fuck off."

"I'm cute as all fuck, but I'm an asshole if you piss me off."

"Insomnia's a real fucker, you know?"

"Fuck it- just- breathe! Breathe, damnit!"

"You and your bisexual ass can get the fuck out of here."

"Let's fuck the world over, 'cause that's all we're good for."

"Fuck it. We're not done yet."

"Occasionally I tell people to go fuck themselves just to mess with their puny lives."

"I didn't want anyone else. Fuck it, I just wanted YOU."

"You're a fucking bisexual disaster. Don't at me, brah."

"I'm just a sad, mostly human being that doesn't know what they're doing with their life." "Only mostly?" "Granny honestly got it on so who knows what the fuck Mom is."

"I don't mind if you call me a freak, just don't say it to my face. That's really rather rude." "You're a fucking idiot." "Yes, I've been told."

"I'm DONE! I'm done acting happy, I'm done pretending to be okay, I'm DONE playing this game. I am so. Fucking. DONE. With shits like you! Don't ever come near me again."

"The only reason I kept fighting was because of the people I cared about! And you took them all away from me! I'm not done fighting yet! I'm not done fucking fighting until your body is rotting in the fucking ground!"

"Giving a fuck what other people think about you is like giving them control of your life."

"Please don't pretend to give a fuck about me. I know better now."

"They said I can't." "Well, fuck 'em." "What?" "You're not weak. It's your life. Fuck 'em. Do what you want."

"I trust you about as far as I can throw you. Which is to say I don't. I can't. I'm weak as all fuck."

"I'm as cute as a cucumber. Wait, fuck, that's a kiwi."

Shit

"When you're a sarcastic piece of shit but people keep falling in love with you anyway."

"My sister is a huge piece of shit." "Awe, that's not nice. What'd the shit ever do to you?"

"Shit aside, this isn't the worst plan put into motion."

"Literally no one cares about that shit."

"I'm not a bitch, I'm an asshole. Guys still want to screw me even if all I spew is shit."

"Congratulations! You're in deep shit."

"You've shown great aptitude for bullshitting."

"Shit... I don't... I don't know why I'm crying... Just please don't leave me alone..." "Never."

"I'm one of those people that people regularly tell me not to do stupid shit and I do it anyway."

"I've lived my life watching through windows. I'm ready to go break shit now."

"I promise, I'm okay."

"You expect me to believe that bullshit!?"

"I'm just getting a little tired of having to deal with this shit!"

"Hey, I'm kinda feeling like shit tonight. You think you could... come cuddle me?"

"I don't see myself as someone who breaks promises, spills secrets, or tells lies. I'm not a great person like that statement would suggest. I just don't talk to people enough, and when I do, I don't give enough of a shit to care."

Asshole

"'Cause sometimes, people are just assholes no one else cares about."

"It was an accident! I didn't mean to-" "Now why don't I believe you?" "Because I'm an arrogant prick and an asshole." "At least you're aware of your short comings."

"No, I'm not getting high off lemonade. What are you drinking, bitch?"

"If you're not sucking cock for the fun of it, I don't know what you're doing with your life."

"Ten out of ten. Would bang again." "Please stop." "Love you, babe."

Forget

"I haven't quite forgiven you for that." "No, I don't expect you did."

"The most unforgettable stories are also the most unbelievable, don't you know?"

"I don't need you to hold me like it's okay to forget. I need you to hold me like it's okay to remember, to hold on, and then to let go."

"Sometimes people forget... I'm not normal."

"The world is a wonderful, beautiful, amazing place. That's why it doesn't matter if in thirty years, no one remembers us."

"I want you to remember what it felt like to fight against me."

"Do you remember what it was like when we were young and alright?"

"Do you remember what I promised? That we'd always be together. I don't break promises. Not to anyone, but never to you. As long as you'll have me, I'll be right here. So please, let me stay."

"I want you to remember this feeling; it will follow you all your life."

"Why don't you remember ANYTHING I said!?"

Pain

"Don't you ever wish we could ever be something different? Like, I don't know. Something less hellish?" "I don't know. Sometimes I welcome the pain."

"I just get so restless, and I can't stop moving, and when I have to sit down and focus... it's really hard because I just want to be up. It's genuinely painful when it strikes in the middle of class or something."

"Pain is what made me human."

"You don't understand all the pain we went through to get where we are now."

"I will break, I will burn, but I will not let you hurt me."

"Listen to me and this broken heart of mine."

"It's not your fault you've been hurt before."

"I don't enjoy hurting people." "Could'a fooled me."

"Does it hurt?" "Always."

“It’s not me you have to worry about killing you if you hurt our daughter, it’s my wife.” “Oh, honey, you know me so well.”

"I knew from the beginning I'd never be able to hurt you."

"I shouldn't care. Caring only hurts."

"Sometimes when people get hurt, they shut themselves away. They push away people and the things that hurt them. But I think it's more interesting when they fight back. Revenge is a bitter tale, but it's a more interesting story told."

"I don't want to fall in love. Falling means you get hurt. I want to grow. I want to grow to love someone, see them at their smallest and grow into their mightiest. I want to grow to love, because when something grows, it never stops growing."

"My head feels heavy and my heart just hurts."

"Don't stress the small stuff. It only makes your brain hurt."

"In the end, we were made of blood that could be spilt and bones that could be broken."

"'Broken,' he'd promised. And 'broken' he'd become."

Death

"I have been scared of many things. Surprisingly, my death has never been one of them."

"They're both very strong willed, bull headed, "death to all those who defy me" kind of people."

"Even the bravest close their eyes when facing Death."

"Death seems like the best option right now." "No. No, it does not."

"Touch my phone and you accept Death as your new best friend."

"You tend to just find death everywhere you go. Isn't that a problem?"

"Death is not a good look on you, honey."

"I've got about a hundred years worth of death on my hands and isn't that great?"

"Death comes to all those who wait for it."

"Murder, death, and mayhem are my favorite things to write about."

"You are an angel of death by association. This is your duty."

"I hope you've got some kind of special armor under that dress, 'cause with the way you're surrounded, if you don't, you're gonna die."

"We're gonna die." "That's the plan."

"How many times must she die before you're satisfied?!"

"This time, I'm not letting you die for me."

"Someone's gonna die tonight, but it ain't gonna be me."

"Fine. I'll let you die. I'll just have to bring you back to life."

"But why'd you have to die?"

"If I die, it's officially Your Fault."

"Welp. time to die again,"

"No! No! You don't get to die! You don't get to die and leave me alone!"

"Don't ask me that! Don't do that!" "Why?" "Because everyone knows that when you talk about the future right before a big battle, you're gonna die!"

"When it comes down to it, I want you to make sure I die."

"How did you save them?" "Easy- I died."

"I would live and die for you, but I'd never kill."

"We are not gods. But I shall die like one anyway."

"There was a time when I swear I was just waiting to die."

"I'd rather destroy myself than let her die for me."

"The truth is- I'm just tired of watching you die."

"I've died so many times, and I'm still falling for you."

"I am so done with children." "You have nine." "And I would die for each and every one of them."

"It's a miracle in itself that you haven't died yet."

"The explosion killed thousands. How are you alive?"

"You bother me." "I can't imagine why." "Surely it has nothing to do with the fact you've killed hundreds of people including my family. That couldn't possibly be it."

"I trust you, but the question is, do you trust me?" "I trust you not to get yourself killed." "I think you might be asking a little too much."

"How are you going to tell your sister you killed her best friend?" "I'm not." "That's no way to start a relationship."

"You are legit trying to kill me." "Oh darling, if I really wanted to kill you, I wouldn't be trying. You'd be dead already."

"I'm pretty sure I killed someone. But then again, I could be wrong."

"I'm going to kill someone." "Oh dear god, please be me."

"Ohhhhh, my sister's gonna kill me for this one."

"One time my sister tried to tell me I wasn't right. Valid, I wasn't. But I still tried to kill her anyway."

"Do what you will. But don't come crying to me if it kills you."

"Oh god, just kill me now." "As you wish."

"The next time somebody tries to kill, me, I'm gonna scream." "I should hope so?"

"This child threatened to kill me." "She threatened to burn the entire city to the ground. I don't see what your point is."

"We are all dead and it’s your fault!"

"Oh look. The sun is shining, nobody is dead- today's gonna be a good day."

"I swore I wouldn't do it again. But here I am. Wishing all of them dead."

"I guess being dead wasn't good enough for you. You wanted to erase me from history too."

"Who even knows if we'll be alive tomorrow?"

"What story did they tell you?" "That'd I'd never make it out alive."

"And if I refuse?" "Well, *chuckle* don't suppose you'll get out of this alive."

"You just need to survive."

"The world is a cruel, unfair place. But it's the one we live in, so we gotta do what we can to survive."

"You've done your best to destroy me, but I survived all along."

"I survive because there is nothing else I could do."

"The world didn't want me. But I survived anyway."

"I think I'm more surprised that you're telling me this than the fact that you survived it."

"We exist in this time and place. This isn't the end."

"You hide it in the corners of your mind like it doesn't exist."

"Once upon a time, there was a girl. A regular, ordinary type of girl. The kind of girl... that no longer exists."

"In any other world, we would not exist."

"Hell exists in ways you don't expect it to."

"I exist in your eyes, but not in your life."

"You weren't supposed to exist."

"I suppose that magic exists. In some way or another."

"Time is inconsequential. Unreal. It doesn't exist. All that exists is the here and now."

"The world only exists the way we want it to."

"The world need not know you exist. More importantly, the world need not know you exist as you do."

"Who's dying this time?"

"I've existed long enough to know this is a very bad idea."

"We only sort of exis

"There's something beautiful in the way you look at the world like nothing else exists."

"We exist to be tempered into impossible weapons."

"I am aware of worlds and things that should not exist."

"The difference you have to learn about the past and future is that the future gives us a reason to keep living... the past only exists to hold us back."

"You are the bane of my existence." "I'm the bane of existence in general."

"How many times have I thought about dying? Too many."

My entire life you've made me cry. All you're doing now is making me cry again.

"My room's a mess. Kinda like my life. But nobody's complaining about that."

"My life was wonderful. But it was better without you in it."

When life gives ya lemons, we find someone who has vodka and makes martinis.

"She's living her life in monochrome."

"There are some things in life that just get you down. And then there's her."

"I've been wrong all my life. This is just another instance, isn't it?

"Home is not a place. It's a feeling. Feeling of contentment, life, respect, safety. That is home."

"I live off of two things: spite and validation. I live to spite those who say I can't, but I need validation from those who say I can."

"Please don't live for tomorrow. Live for today."

"My favorite kind of people are the ones who live for themselves, and not for anyone else."

I knew we'd live forever.

"There's not enough time on Earth to see everything. We could go back a billion years and live every moment up to now, and even then we wouldn't see everything." "Nah. But with you, I'd like to try. I feel like I could do anything with you by my side."

#persona 5 #pegoryuann #pegoryu #shuann #yutaba #sk8 the infinity #matchablossom #renga #bnha #bakudeku #kirikami #iidachako #todomomo #if you have questions about another show or ship send me an ask because I honestly am terrible at tagging and i might still be into it #haikyuu!!#kagehina #asanoya #daisuga #honestly most haikyuu ships i just don't know most of their names

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averyhappychainsawhalloween · 4 years ago

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Reverence | Part 5

Thomas Hewitt X You

You could not avoid the screams. Footsteps thundered from above your head and screams rang through the house. You couldn’t stop hearing them and suddenly you felt drawn to them. You had seen Hoyt dispose of people before and Tommy drag them off. But they were quick. A bullet to the head and then gone, maybe with a twitch of their foot. This was something else entirely.

Maybe it was the darkness in your heart that led you away from Thomas’ bed and up the basement stairs. The roar of the chainsaw grew louder and so did the screams. Horrible, blood curdling screams that brought goosebumps up on your skin. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end and still you moved, shoving the metal door of the basement aside and stepping out onto the first floor of the house.

The front door was swung open and chainsaw marks notched in the wood of the doorframe leading to the living room on your right. A scream caught your attention and you turned just in time to see a boy coming at you. He was sweaty, wide-eyed, and absolutely horrified. His blue plaid shirt was torn open at his shoulder, his skin ragged and torn, spewing blood down his shirt sleeve. His arm hung useless at his side, too many nerves and tendons cut at the bone to do anything with.

And much to your horror his good hand caught your wrist and started to pull you to the front door. You slapped at him, kicking at his shins and pulling from his grasp.

“We have to get out now!” he said, tugging you towards the door.

Time seemed to slow down. Your struggling limbs were stuck in molasses too slow and too weak to stop him from dragging you across the wood planks to the porch and world beyond. It was bright outside. A cheery sunny morning that seemed so out of place with the blood splattering across the floor.

A chainsaw roared behind you, low and strange to your ears. You turned your head, looking over your shoulder at Tommy tearing out of the kitchen the chainsaw spewing smoke from its engine. He was large and beautiful and you wanted to kiss him despite everything that was happening.

Your hand that wasn’t claimed by this stranger stopped its futile attempts to get him to let you go and reached back, reaching for Thomas.

You opened your mouth to call to him but it ended up being unnecessary, he was coming for you even without your call.

Time slid back to speed and Thomas tore across the entrance hall. The chainsaw screamed in your ears drowning out everything else as it came down on the young man’s arm that is still holding onto you. The blade ate through the bone sending blood and gore spewing everywhere. Pieces of skin slap against your cheek, blood coats your face and hair and at the end of it all you’re holding a severed hand, its fingers still curled around yours.

You watched, in shock, as the young man falls against the door frame of the front door trying to cradle an arm that is no longer there. He’s screaming but you don’t hear it over the call of the chainsaw. Thomas doesn’t pause. He slips the blade into the boy’s stomach and more sinew and blood spew out as the man’s face contorts in pain. He’s shaking and twitching as the blade chews through his stomach, tears running down his face. Thomas pulls back, the chainsaw going silent and now you can hear this stranger’s cries. He slides down the wall, leaving a streak of crimson behind him, and falls to the floor his good arm grabbing at his middle trying to put himself back together. He’s screaming and crying and choking as blood bubbles up inside his throat.

Luda Mae and Hoyt enter, standing beside you. You all watch as the man takes his last breath and dies at the threshold of the Hewitt home.

You feel their eyes on you, looking for horror or fear but you don’t have any. You can’t have any if you ever plan on getting out.

“Nice to meet ya,” you say, shaking the severed hand clutching yours. Hoyt breaks out into a large belly laugh and slaps your back sending the hand out of yours and tumbling across the floor.

“Damn girl, you’re something,” Hoyt says, shoving his thumbs under his belt.

Thomas was kneeling in front of the body as if uncertain the man was dead. When he was satisfied he wasn’t getting up again he looked over at you, his blue eyes searching for something that you were determined to give him.

“You were wonderful, Tommy,” you said smiling. The blood on your skin had begun to dry and it pulled at your flesh as you grinned. He made a noise, and stood up leaving his chainsaw behind and crossed to you. Without any warning Thomas slid his arms around you and yanked you up into the air in celebration. Of his killing a man or your acceptance of it you weren’t entirely sure but he was happy and you wanted to be happy too.

He slung you around easily, your weight a second thought to his joy as he carried you around the room. Your hands slid down his arms, relishing the feeling of his muscles tense beneath the skin. He was strong and deadly and he was yours.

“Put her down, Tommy, you’ll hurt her,” Luda Mae said, fear creeping into her voice. Tommy froze and set your feet on the floor but you kept your arms around him.

“It’s okay, I trust Thomas,” you said to Luda Mae before looking up at him. You let your hand move from his shoulder to cup his cheek.

“There’s no coming back from this, honey,” Luda Mae said, her lips falling into a firm line. Her eyes hard as if waiting for the trick but there was none. You weren’t lying.

“I don’t want to come back from anything, ma’am,” you said with a smile. Thomas had a hand on your waist but it kept twitching as if he wasn’t sure he could touch you outside of the basement or not. His eyes were on Luda Mae looking for permission. She looked between the two of you before finally nodding.

“Alright,” she said. “Tommy take him downstairs.”

Thomas nodded and quickly went over to the body, grabbing it and throwing it over his shoulder. He started for the basement and you began to follow. Luda Mae placed a hand on your arm pausing your procession.

“Not you,” Luda Mae said. “We need to clean up here.”

Reluctantly, you stayed rooted in place and watched Thomas descend the stairs and pushed back every instinct that told you to follow.

You followed Luda Mae who grabbed a metal bucket and a sponge and set you to work scrubbing the blood from the floor boards. While Hoyt and Luda Mae fixed the marks carved out of the wall, you were down on your hands and knees running the sponge over the wood. You had to put your whole back into it, scrubbing over and over to get the blood out of the wood. It had soaked deep into the grain and you weren’t sure if it ever was going to come out.

By the time the floor looked normal the water bucket was tinged red and the sun was low in the sky. Hoyt had clumsily put fillers in the marks and Luda Mae pressed fresh paint over it. It looked fine, but now that you had seen their quick fixes you were able to see all the different marks in the walls that had previously been covered.

You shuffled into the kitchen, a soreness setting into your back from the afternoon’s work. You dropped the bucket and threw the sponge into the sink.

“Thank you dear,” Luda Mae said, and then paused giving you a good look. “You’re still covered in blood, honey. Head upstairs and wash all that off.”

Tired, you nodded and started upstairs. Exhaustion had set into your limbs and the idea of a warm shower was extremely appealing. You grabbed fresh clothes from your room and headed to the bathroom. You grabbed a towel from the linen closet and started the shower waiting for the water to warm up.

You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your image. You were covered in blood, dried and crusty in your hair. You looked different now. Hungrier, more dangerous. Gone was the girl who curled up in the back of the van focused on a cheap novel about fake love to tune out the words of everyone else.

You liked this person in the mirror. This stronger version of you that had seen darkness and lived through it- lived with it.

You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to go back anymore. To the life with rent and bills always on your mind, where work was your life and the people in it were always at an arm’s length. Where the phone rang constantly and you had to be sweet and polite to everyone or else lose your paycheck and everything else.

Why give up a miracle if you didn’t have to?

The door creaked open and you watched Thomas step into the room. He looked at you, his hand lingering on the doorknob as if waiting for you to yell at him to leave.

You looked at this new you in the mirror and then back at the hulking man standing at the threshold.

“Come in and lock the door.”

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x reader #slashers x reader #leatherface

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snickiebear · 3 years ago

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wip wednesday loll

ayeee ty @bl1ndbraavosi for da taggg

this is from rarepair week so small spoilers!! (am vvvv excited about rarepair week, finally figured out what i wanna do for this particular piece too so yayy)

tagging: @siuilaruinofthegale @theia-talks @tenderlysizzlingfart @kaoruhana08 + @damndewdrops :)

WARNING: DESCRIPTIONS OF GORE

Minato sighs heavily from his corner of the Hokage’s office, crammed against the window, the large stacks of papers are his jail’s bars. His jailer sits behind the large oak desk, smoking and flipping through his own work.

It's a usual day for him, mornings are spent with his team, afternoons with the Hokage, evenings with friends. It's routine. It's comfortable, reassuring. Until it isn’t. Or wasn’t.

Because Kushina was a part of this routine but she’s gone now and Minato comes home to dark and cold.

So, he works, fills his time with helping and laughing and smiling. And then lays alone and awake—

He’s fine. He is.

Minato sighs again, scanning through another document about the new trade deal the daimyo wants to make, something that could benefit the village, but also cost more than they wanted—

There is a sharp pull at his navel, almost painful as a large chakra signature nears from above, its far away though, no where near them and— and—

It explodes. The sound absolutely deafening and the very ground shakes, throwing Minato onto the ground, portraits crashing and papers flying everywhere. Then, utter silence.

For a second all is quiet and Minato’s mind is racing, sprinting with the feeling of threat threat threat when—

“Go.” His Hokage barks, looking directly at him from where he has been knocked to the ground.

Minato is a good soldier, he does not hesitate.

Nothing but lightning in the wind, the jolt of static on your fingers, he flashes through the streets, catching sight of what this quake has done, buildings are rubble, people scathed.

He comes to a stop at the landing site and for a moment, his knees buckle.

There were once trees here, training fields here, life here. And now, now there is nothing but a smoking, colossal crater, dead earth, and ash.

It is silent except for his own breathing, somewhere he thinks he can hear the organizing of troops, but then there’s a whimper, a snarl and a hand— bloodied, bent fingers, skin hanging off in flaps— appears.

He does not move, tensing for a fight as the thing— a woman— hauls herself onto solid ground, wheezing and hissing. Her left leg is gone, leaving a trail of blood and gore, skin burnt off and smoking to reveal bone and angry flesh. She is drenched in blood, whatever left of her hair is still on fire but she does not scream.

She goes to stand and cries out in such pain that Minato is helpless to catch her as she falls, gently lowering her to the ground. It is only because Minato is a seasoned shinobi that he does not vomit at the sight of her face.

It is skinless, bone shining through, half of her face sagging, one of her eyes is missing, the other is swollen over. But. But the skin is slowly regrowing itself, her crooked fingers realigning themselves audibly.

He flinches at the sight, unable to stop the burn of bile in his throat. Who is she? What is she? And what the fuck is happening?

She snarls, blood spewing before she touches him ( something in his heart lurches) and relaxes. “Oh.” She rasps, the word barely understandable. “It’s you.”

#silly things from silly friends #minasaku #a shared pen

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sweetestlamb · 4 years ago

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I Love You, Where Are You Going?

Summary: Y’all already know what it is. Episode 15 continued through my dirty pervert mind. For @truccieeboo and @emanmc24 who always support me and wanted some desk fun. Ko Mun-yeong and Moon Gang-tae having fun on a table, that’s all.

Author’s note: I am tipsy and that ending made my brain (and vagina) explode, excuse any typos or grammatical errors its just because I’m fucked up in every sense of the word.

I love you. I love you so much. I love you Ko Mun-yeong.

How dare he say those words to her now when she was trying to do the right thing? She had been selfish her whole life and the one time she was attempting to be selfless, he was making her regret it every step of the way. How long had she yearned to hear those words, never expecting they would mirror her own ill-advised love confession so long ago.

She had been so stupid back then with no clue about what love was, spewing out whatever she thought would get a reaction out of him. Whatever would make him stay because he was the only person who ever came to save her, despite her darkness and lack of empathy he followed her everywhere she went and wanted to be with her. He was such a fool, had been since he was boy.

Why couldn’t he just leave? She was giving him an out, absolving him from his meaningless guilt, who could fault him for not wanting to be with the daughter of the monster that murdered his mother? That monstrous blood was flowing through her veins as well, she had tried her damnest but she couldn’t escape her mother’s curse. Their relationship was ill-fated, not destiny. She was a fairy tale writer and she hadn’t been able to predict her own ending, how ironically pathetic.

She twirled the dead flowers in her hand, trying not to think about him. It was futile he was all that filled her head, the desperation in his voice as he declared his love for her. She hadn’t been expecting it, not in the slightest, why couldn’t he just leave her alone? Hadn’t he called her a one-time event, why did he keep coming back for an encore of the world’s saddest show? Maybe Jae-su was right and he was a psychopath, at the moment she couldn’t argue against the point.

The loud bang of the door crashing open violently pulls her from her thoughts, and she hears stomps nearing her. With a sigh, she hides the flowers, not wanting to give him the wrong impression; he needs to leave and take Sang-tae with him. This has gone on for too long.

“Mun-yeong.” His deep voice echoes in the spacious room as he rounds the corner to find her at her standing near the table.

Gang-tae prowls towards her, determination in his eyes, unnerving her to her core. “I love you. Why are you running? What’s wrong?”

Anger pools in the pit of her stomach as she cuts her eye to look at him, who is he to offer his love now? She can’t have it now, her mother has poisoned their seed of love and anything that blooms now will be deadly, grotesque and ugly. She rises and presses past him, hoping to escape to her room and regroup his resilience had not been expected, he was supposed to leave quietly and without a fight, where was her repressed Moon Gang-tae? He chose the worst moment to unpin himself and unleash on her like a hurricane.

His tight grip on her arm both shocks her and stops her in her tracks, with wide eyes she gasps at him, “If you tell me you love me one more time I’ll--” With a snap of her jaw she cuts herself off, not quite knowing how to complete that sentence. What would she do to him? Pushing him away was proving futile and he was hammering at the walls she was building back around her heart.

“You’ll do what? Do this?” He retorts defiance ample on his tongue, before his fingers tighten on her arms and he leans up and steals a kiss. Nothing more than a peck but her reaction is instant, her body heats as her heart races, pumping blood to her cheeks and...other regions. While she is dazed by the spontaneous kiss, he further surprises her by bending suddenly and lifting her into his arms, all the air in her lungs is vacuumed out as he places on her on the table. Her eyes search his own in question and reprimand, what was he doing? Why wasn’t he leaving dammit!

Before she can question his actions, he tilts forward, his eyes fixated on her lips. With a gasp, she jolts back, backing away from his hungry seeking mouth, but he is not deterred as he presses forward further forcing her back onto her arms to escape his kiss. She retreats until her back hits something solid, the table, she has nowhere else to go, he has her cornered. With all her strength she shoves at his shoulders, his eyes never leave her mouth, his body is barely rocked from her push. Like a mouse hitting an elephant.

Swiftly he climbs onto the table, hovering over her body and snatches her arms, firmly placing them above her head. His body is unbelievably hot above hers, heat radiating off and burning her skin, she pants from the heat.

“Why are you fighting me? You don’t want this?” His voice is slightly condescending as if he has no belief that the answer is no. Arrogant bastard.

“No. I don’t, get off me. I told you to leave. Get lost!” Her scream reverberates off the walls, but his face is unchanging, as if he did not hear her declaration at all. As if, she had said nothing at all, he smiles at her warmly, sighing fondly before whispering onto her face, “Liar.”

She tense under his weight, her wrist warm clasped in his snug hold, he continues on leaning into her space until each word lands with a puff of moist air on her reddened skin, “You want this. You’ve always wanted this, why are you fighting it now that I’m giving it to you? Take it. Let me take you.”

Her body responds to his suggestive words, images of that kiss infiltrate her mind, she thought that was the extent of his passion, never anticipated that he would be like this? He usually become flustered from small pecks and the brush of her hands, how could this be the same Moon Gang-tae? Her wonder must have reflected on her face because he answered, “You look surprised, did you think I didn’t want it too?” He scoffs, “I want you all the time. I’ve thought about taking you in every room of this castle. I never answered your question that day, yes Mun-yeong, I want to sleep with you. I want to sleep with you so badly.”

Involuntarily she feels herself become moist, his words setting her body ablaze and with renewed strength and adrenaline she pushes him again, harder, satisfaction bubbling when he falls off the table, but her victory is short-lived as he snatches her again, slamming her wrists back onto the table with more force than before, too formidable for her to move even in the slightest. With fear lacing her voice she demands, “Stop! Let go of me, I told you to stop!” Angry tears filling her eyes, he’s saying everything she has wanted to hear and its destroying her defenses, she has to get away.

His lips smash into her own as she tightly presses them together, forbidding his tongue from entering her mouth, her last defense. He swipes at her lips harder, unrelenting in his pursuit to devour her, but she is steadfast thrashing in his arms violently and eventually he pulls back with a final lick across the expanse of her mouth. The hunger in his eyes is palpable and smothering her.

“Coward.”

The word stops her in her tracks, she peers up at him baffled at his audacity, letting him go was the bravest thing she has ever done, how dare he minimize it? Wasn’t he the one who had spewed out that crap saying if you loved someone enough you had to let them go, was that reserved for good people? Why was she not allowed?

“How dare you--”

His tongue cuts off the rest of her statement, as he uses the opportunity to thrust his way into her mouth, tongue sliding against her own, swallowing her complains as he presses her into the table.

She loses herself momentarily in his taste, his tongue wrecking havoc on her slack mouth, as he invades her, brutal in his conquest, leaving nothing in his wake. Licking and sucking until her mouth feels tender and raw from the attention, finally she snaps out out of her trance and bites down on his slithering tongue, he jolts back with a cry, hands freeing her wrist to cover his mouth.

“Get off me, Sang-tae will be here soon and..”

“Shut up.”

What. “What?”

“You heard me. Shut. Up. I don’t want to hear about anyone or anything else. I love you and I know you love me. A kiss is better than a fight and this” He boldly grinds into her pelvis, making her quiver, “This is the best of them all.”

Without a moments notice, he rapidly begins to unbutton his own shirt, fingers flying down the straight row of tiny buttons. She feels lightheaded, thankful for the stability of the table underneath her, her knees buckle as she watches him. He flings the shirt on the ground revealing the pale glow of his skin, muscles flexing at the motion, his abs tantalizingly on display as she feels the arid desert that her mouth has become.

“I remember the first time you saw me shirtless. You couldn’t keep your hands off me, what’s stopping you now? Do I need to pretend I don’t want it?” He smirks from his spot above her and her face flushes at the memory, it seems like a lifetime ago. “I wanted you then too, you are the prettiest thing I've ever been offered. I’m never letting you go, Ko Mun-yeong. We are meant to be together.”

Tears prickle in her eyes at his words, she wills them not to fall. He grabs her hands once more, she tries to resist but her trembling hands are no match for his firm grip, slowly he brings her hand to his body, pressing her palms into his skin, letting out a guttural moan at the sensation.

She tells herself to pull away, push him again, run away, anything but her body ignores her pleas remaining under his spell as he leans forward, pulling the pin securing her hair up out from its hold, purring in satisfaction as her hair falls in loose waves around her face. Tendrils tickle her cheeks as he lovingly pushes her hair back, stroking her head before his fingers tighten and she winces at the unexpected constraint.

“Let’s be brave together, huh?” With those last words he lunges at her mouth, devouring her fruitless protest, using his grip on her hair to bring her face ever closer as he laps at her mouth, pushing and pushing until he breaks through the seal and tastes her paradise, he moans into her mouth, the vibration tingling on her lips.

The intensity of each kiss never falters as he delights in his acquisition of her, messing her hair up with a firm hand, tugging at her dress, before palming her breasts through the tight-fitting material. He roughly maneuvers his hands around the full mounds, twisting them as he pants, “This dress, you shouldn’t wear this dress again. It looks uncomfortable and I want to punch everyone who looks at you in it.”

She can’t stop the moans that slip out at his demand and his nimble hands wrecking his body, She feels him groping at her back, looking for the zipper and knows that he won’t find one, at least not there there is a hidden zipper inside the dress that must be carefully handled as this dress is vintage and one of a kin--

Krrrrrrrrrrrrr

She flounders on the table taken aback by the sound, unaware of what that sound could possibly be until she feels a cool breeze on her back. Her dress. He was ripping her dress.

He was ripping her one of a kind vintage dress.

“Are you insane?! What are you doing? Stop ripping my dress, are you an animal?” She shrieks at him, red consuming her face from anger and...arousal. She couldn’t deny it, seeing this side of him was invigorating as it was terrifying. But she would never let him know that, he was already too big for his breeches.

As coy as he looked teasing her with that fucking ribbon, he innocently gazes down at her before apologetically replying, “My hand slipped, I couldn’t find the zipper. I’ll buy you a new dress, one that didn’t look uncomfortable.” With that quip, he shreds the dress down the center, peeling it like a banana from her sweltering skin. She is unable to subdue the whimper that falls from her lips and a knowing smirks swells on his face, fuck fuck fuck.

Contemptuously, he flings the ripped material on the floor, leaving her in her underwear and boots, his eyes running obscenely up and down her body, he fingers at the lace that encases her most private areas. Matching red set bright against her skin, his eyes trail down to her boots, darkening before leisurely strolling back up and landing on her face. She is sin personified, tempting him and today he’s ready to repent, she will be his salvation.

He crawls back onto her body like a wild cat, pouncing, ready to devour its prey. Within seconds, he drags his finger from her moist center to the valley of her breasts, intent clear in his eyes. She stares back, attempting to muster up some strength but she knows the fight is lost, she can no longer resist him. Her body uncoils in acquiesce and that is the only permission he needs before, sliding her bra out of the way and swallowing her hard nipple. His teeth are unforgiving at his gnaws at her like she is truly a meal to be eaten at the table, his hand kneads the breast not in his mouth, she squirms and pants beneath him, pleasure percolating under her skin.

“Moon Gang-tae!” She moans at a brutal bite at her breast, before his tongue slithers out to sooth the pain. He releases her nipple with an audible pop before meandering to her neck, sucking at the delicate skin, unforgiving in his pursuit, his hands still roughly palming at her heaving chest. Through the rush of blood to her head, she hears him panting out, “You’re going to look even prettier with my marks. Everyone will see them.”

That doesn’t make her preen, at all. She is unaffected. Completely.

After sucking at her neck until she feels like her skin might rip just like her dress, he draws away to survey his masterpiece, his broad shoulders even broader with the wave of pride that wafts off him. Making her head spin again he snatches her off the table, pulling her up until she’s sitting as he distracts her with wild kisses. Then she feels his fingers at the clasp of her bra, he struggles momentarily and she fears she’ll be losing a bra today as well, but he figures it out unhooking it and prying it from her body. Pressing into her with his equally naked chest, he presses her back onto the table, bra carelessly discarded.

His fingers run along the side of her body, teasing her as he continues to lick at her tongue, allowing her no reprieve from his onslaught. Seductively he begins to rub his rigid cock into her, thrusting into her, groaning at the pleasure. His hands latch onto her hips, controlling her movement, forcing her to grind into him as he chases his pleasure. His harsh breaths land on her face as her eyes devour the sight of Moon Gang-tae lost in passion, it’s beautiful. if she were an artist she would draw it and capture it forever.

Despite her tender inklings, he is not gentle as he draws away from her, grabbing the thin cloth of her panties, burning eyes locked on the flower they are protecting, before peeling them off her skin, she feels a blush form on her cheeks, disbelief that this is happening to her, Moon Gang-tae is seducing her.

“Beautiful.” He sighs, eagerly lowering his face until he is level with her face, locking eyes with her as they have a silent conversation.

I love you.

I want you.

I will protect you.

Let me keep you.

Eyes never leaving hers, he pokes his tongue out licking down her body, swirling around her breasts, meandering down her soft belly, lapping at slight swell of hip before settling at her entrance, hot breaths landing on where she aches the most. She moans in anticipation but when she forces her eyes open- when had she closed them?- she finds his nonplussed face, peacefully staring back at her, as his fingers stroke her sides.

She looks at him.

He looks at her.

She huffs in annoyance.

He smirks cockily.

“Beg for it.”

Her body spasms at his calm request. She defiantly glares at him, “In your dreams.”

With a dark chuckle he answers, “Already happens there, I want it in reality now.”

She moves to slide off the table, but then her legs are snatched and he glides them open, his mouth following suit as he places her on display, moist pink lips opened and glistening. With another bout of careless strength, he drags her legs over his shoulder, so his face is directly in her pussy, his every breath landing inside her. She shivers at the sensation, twitching in his hands. Control slipping away.

He licks his lips like he is preparing for a big meal. Her knuckles are white from her death grip on the table.

“Beg. For. It. I want to give it to you Mun-yeong, just ask nicely. Be a good girl, huh?”

His words wash over her in sensual waves, be a good girl. She hates it but she wants to be his good girl, to feel his huge hand cup her head as he praises her and makes her feel invincible. Drenched now from his words.

Swallowing to bring moisture back to her mouth, she uses the last reserve of air in her lungs to obey his command, “Please Gang-tae, please.”

His eyes light up in excitement as he caresses her naked body, “Such a good girl.” He praises her caressing her downy skin and then he plunges into her, slurping up her juices, the sounds obscene in the bitter quiet of the room.

Using broad strokes of his tongue, he swipes at her clitoris, slamming her hips back onto the table when she jerks viciously from the pleasure. She whimpers at his manhandling, overwhelmed as he eats her with reckless abandon. She wraps her legs around his face, desperate for his touch and he moans in approval, lapping at her sweetness, hungry for more.

His tongue is sin itself as it moves inside her, soft and then hard, gentle and then hard. His inconsistency leaves on feeling on edge, each time she edges to the end, he stops and teases her with kitten licks, devious glances informing her that this is intentional. He wants to wreck her and leave her boneless on the table.

She grabs his head, “Please, please, I need more.” And those words are all it takes, he presses in with all his might, scraping every ounce of pleasure and joy from her body, gently biting at her clitoris until she sees stars, the moon, the entire fucking galaxy.

When she thinks she’s going to burst from the euphoria, he presses two long fingers into her, as his tongue plays with the swollen bud. His fingers are unforgiving in their plunder, pressing deep into her hole while his tongue moves rapidly against her, the dueling sensations dragging her closer and closer to the edge, before she feels herself falling, spiraling into the abyss.

She screams her release, “Moon Gang-tae!!”

He doesn’t stop immediately, riding her body as she convulses on the table, weakly trying to push his head away, wrung out and teetering into too much. He ignores her pushes until he is good and ready.

She collapses on the table, body sprawled in all directions as she recovers from her climax, sweat pooling on her skin, her breaths gradually returning to normal.

When she finally opens her eyes once more, his gaze is devastating, too many emotions swirling in his expressive eyes.

“Amazing.”

She blushes in response, his eyes heavy on her skin, her eyes fleeting around unable to remain on his face, sudden shyness overcoming her.

After a deep breath, she begins to sit up, pressing him away, body weak and lethargic after the intensity of her release, but his dark eyes land on her face and she ceases to move.

“Where are you going?”

She tilts her head in confusion, shouldn't it be obvious?

“You think we’re done? That I’m finished with you? That was just the beginning...the appetizer. We’re just getting started.”

With a devious smile, he promptly grabs her hips and flips her over, then slides off the table to drag her body to the end until her legs are dangling off the table with her ass hoisted in the air. He strokes the soft plumpness of her ass, before grinding his body onto her naked skin. His dress pants are smooth on her skin and the sensation drags a moan from her lips. Then she hears the obvious sounds of him undressing, looking back over her shoulder, she watches as he drags the zipper down, unbuttons the pants and they fall to the ground, with a hard look at her, he steps out of his boxers, leaving him naked and gorgeous.

His heavy erections hands ominously between his trunk like legs, engorged and angry-red, resembling a missile waiting to explode. She gulps as she observes the way it twitches in his hands, she almost misses the next words he lets out from her fascination with his cock, “Next time I want you on your knees for me but I can’t wait any longer right now. Not being in you is driving me insane.”

Her breath hitches from his promise, the look on his face lets her know that it is a promise, images of her on her knees with her mouth open flood her mind, his bitter taste on her tongue as she sucks him deep, his hand on her head as he calls her his good girl and surges in her hungry mouth. It is enough to make her faint.

With a sharp smack on her ass, he drags her from her erotic fantasy, “ You look lost in thought, I don’t want to be jealous of myself so pay attention to me.”

Roughly grabbing her, he presses into her, sliding between the tight seal of her thighs, brushing against her pussy but drawing back before he can enter her, he teases her continually until her head starts to swim, she will die if he doesn’t fuck her soon. She tries to press back but his iron grip stops her until she finally glares back with questioned filled eyes. He gazes back at her once again, calm as if his dick isn't hard as a rock right now, as if he doesn’t want to just ram into her and fuck her until the table breaks.

“What are you waiting for?” She bites out, distraught from the lack of sex that is occurring.

He simply raises an eyebrow, waiting.

Beg for it.

He is thrusting into her with steady movement, eyes locked on her face as he smears his precum on her thighs, making her feel filthy. She decides she has done enough begging today, those pleas would sound delicious on his lips too. With a fluid motion, she rolls onto the tips of her toes, thankful for her years of ballet, the stretch unnoticeable on her strong legs, arching her back until her ass is high in the air. With his eyes locked on her face in surprise, she brings her fingers to her mouth, sucking them until they are soaked in her saliva.

She trails them down her own body before she reaches her destination, her wet center, opening her lips and pressing her wet fingers in, body sinuously twisting at the feel of her hands on herself. Gang-tae’s jaw drops from the sensual show, lost in her fingers and their fluctuation. Playing with herself, she rubs against her walls, legs shaking at her own ministrations. He watches her, dazed and amazed, his cock hardening at the erotic sight that he will lock away for those lonely nights. The thin thread of control he had remaining snapping under pressure.

Her hands are ruthlessly yanked away, “You win. I need you, please.”

Victory comes in the form of his hot cock piercing through her moist opening, taking up all the space until the pressure is enough to knock her on her stomach, his thrust is measured and unplumbed, taking his sweet time. Until he is fully stuffed inside her, she whines at the slight discomfort, breath racing now. For a few seconds, there is nothing but quiet and stillness.

Then he is moving, and it feels like being in the eye of a storm. Tumultuous, destructive and beautifully catastrophic. He plunges into her, hips smacking against her ass, her body slamming into the table with every brutal thrust. Her fingers scratch across the sheets covering the table, her moans are deafening to her own ears but Gang-tae can be heard loud and clear regardless, “I will never leave you, we were meant to be. Look how perfectly we fit!”

Her head is dizzy as he places a hand on her back, molding her into the table as he rides her hard, cock dragging on her sensitive walls, unrelenting crashes into her hot tight body.

His hands slide into her hair as he pulls at the strands, tears collect her in eyes from the pain but she presses into his harsh touch, eager and wanting. He yanks her hair as he rams into her body, over and over and over again. Deeper in her body than anything has ever been, drool spills from her mouth pooling and soaking into the fabric.

As her body coils in pleasure, she feels his fingers at her core, searching until they find her overly sensitive bud, with a flick of his wrist she is falling again, thunderous crash, caught between his brutal grip on her hair, his crushing press on her clit and his vicious piston into her overstimulated body.

“Moon Gang-tae! Moon Gang-tae!”

Her second climax is as gratifying as the first, if not more. Her toes curl as her walls milk him, tightening around his cock until she feels the gush of him releasing into her,searing thick streams filling her up. He grunts out her name in response, “Ko Mun-yeong.” Before collapsing onto her back, their sweat laden bodies sticking together.

Slowly, their breaths synchronize and then she watches his beautiful arms tense as he uses them to propel himself off her. He doesn’t go far before taking her hips in a gentle hold and turning her over, his eyes glossy with over-bounding emotions, the biggest one love.

It is clear as day on his face. He loves her.

He wraps her in his arms, lifting her once again before turning to the stairs and carrying her in his bride’s hold. She feels delicate and precious in his arms.

“I love you Ko Mun-yeong.”

She sighs, damn him. She was finally trying to be a good person, but if he wants her to be selfish, she can do that. She will selfishly hold on to him forever.

“I tried to do the right thing, remember that okay? I tried to let you go.”

He smiles at her, the smile is identical to the picture Sang-tae drew that she has hidden in a drawer in her room, eyes crinkled and joy emitting from his very pores. She is helpless at the sight of it and with a defeated sigh she replies, “I love you too......You idiot.”

His chuckle rocks her body as he carries her up the stairs, before she freezes in fear, “Wait where is Oppa? He’s not here right.” She hastily looks around.

“Don’t worry he’s not here. I told him we needed time to make up, he said it was fine because a kiss is better than a fight. We kissed a lot so he’ll be happy.” He dodges her hand as she goes to smack his head.

She really is stuck with this guy forever.

Maybe they are destiny after all.

#its okay to not be okay fic #its okay to not be okay #psycho but it's okay #ko mun yeong #moon gang tae #How dare they end the episode like that #like I said they better pick right tf up where they left off #we deserve a kiss at least #smutty smut smut #kinky shit #my brain is a dark place #I'm a perv

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klvbxlove · 4 years ago

Text

reality (iida x gn! reader)

a/n: so i recently published an iida x reader oneshot on my wattpad, but i figured i’d post it here as well! i think it’s best to let y’all know that this is my first time writing fanfiction since 2017, so my writing might not be the best. you can give me constructive criticism. either way, i hope you enjoy reading it :)

reader-type: gender-neutral

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

trigger warning(s): nightmares, mentions of death, mentions of violence

summary: you wake up from a nightmare and almost think it was real until your boyfriend, iida, comforts and reassures you it wasn’t.

word count: 1.9k words

The bedroom you shared with your boyfriend, Iida, was filled with complete silence as both of you slept. Well, it wasn't all silent. Iida could be heard, softly breathing. Not to mention, there was still the sound of traffic outside your house. The warmth of your large blanket comforted you both against the semi-cold air. Seeing as how the winter season was rolling in, you recently took the opportunity to bring out all the blankets and wear Iida's hoodies and sweatshirts (not that he minded).

Iida always took the opportunity to sleep whenever he had the chance, especially with you. As much as he admired heroism and being a hero himself, sometimes the job would take up most of his time. It wasn't as if Iida was trying to complain about it. However, he would feel guilty for leaving you alone for the night if he had to stay behind. You've told him before that you weren't bothered by this at all. Was it enough to stop his guilt? Nope.

Today had been one of the longest days Iida ever faced, and he had come home tired. He felt quite lucky that he didn't have to stay behind again, and Iida was excited to sleep alongside you (something Iida felt like he hadn't done in a long time). He didn't have any difficulty falling asleep, and he had been in a slumber for the past few hours now.

You, on the other hand? That was a different story.

While you were technically asleep, you felt like you were in a reality that you so desperately wanted to escape.

All you could see around you was pretty much a war zone. The buildings nearby had been destroyed, and one of them was even on fire. Dark clouds consumed the sky, making it look like a storm was coming. When you looked down at the ground, there was blood everywhere.

Attempting to walk shot pain through your left leg, but you had to deal with it. Right now, you had no idea where Iida was. You didn't even know what had happened. It was as if the next day decided to do a complete turn compared to yesterday. No matter how many questions you formed, there was no answer you could find. That wasn't the main focus, however. All you needed to do was look for Iida. And pray that he was safe and sound.

It didn't take much longer to find your boyfriend. However, he wasn't safe and sound as you hoped he'd be. Much to your horror, Iida was on the ground, beaten up and tied up. You spotted a large gash on his forehead with blood spewing out of it. While you noticed he was breathing, you knew it was a matter of time before he would die. It didn't help that a villain was standing next to him. He was ready to hurt Iida if he could.

You so desperately wanted to fight the villain and save Iida, but you couldn't. You weren't a hero. Hell, you weren't even allowed to use your quirk in public! What could you do by then? Nothing, it seems. The pain in your left leg most certainly wouldn't help. However, you couldn't complain. Looking at Iida made you realize he was in more pain than you.

So what did you do? You yelled at the villain, "Please! DON'T HURT TENYA! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE!"

The villain only let out a cackle. It sent shivers down your spine. "You think I would listen to you?" he snarled. "Are you stupid? You know I take pride in hurting civilians and heroes. I could do this every day of my life until I die!"

"Please don't!" you cried. At that point, tears were starting to spill out of your eyes. There was no time to try to wipe them off now. "I'll let you hurt me instead. BUT PLEASE, DON'T HURT TENYA!" You knew that Iida would scold you for getting into dangerous situations like this. But this was one of the instincts you had. What could you do about it now?

"How silly of you to assume that I would take on the offer," the villain smirked. "but there's no need for that. I have my victim here, and I'll kill him right here and now. Nothing you can do to stop me!"

Your eyes widened. "NO!"

By that point, you felt as if your body turning into a statue. You so desperately wanted to dash over to Iida, pick him up with all your strength, and dash out of there to escape the villain. You couldn't. You just stood there frozen. If this was a terrible nightmare, you just wished you would wake up soon.

It was quite a coincidence to feel as if you were turning into a statue. Why? Because the villain just so happened to have a quirk called "statue (**).” As he placed his hand on Iida's shoulder, the dark blue-haired man, all of a sudden, turned into a statue. He was still in the same position and condition you found him in. The villain's quirk was similar to that one villain you heard about, Shigaraki (when he touched an object or person, they'd turned into dust).

OH, GOD, NO.

Your eyes still widened in horror, you watched as the villain picked up the statue of Iida. He lifted it over his head and, using all his strength, dropped it on the ground. As the villain let out another cackle, you were already feeling the urge to sob. The feeling of pain was no longer on the front fore of your mind. Instead, you took all the strength to dash over to the broken pieces of what was your boyfriend, Iida. You picked a big one up, and you held it close to your chest.

"Tenya," you whispered, your voice cracking. You were expecting to hear a reply back, but no. The reality of Iida being dead (for a few seconds) was something you didn't accept. However, when you did realize, you felt yourself starting to shake.

"Tenya," you hugged the piece tighter. You repeated his name in whispers, over and over again, until you screamed it.

"TENYA!!!!"

And at that moment, your eyes opened.

You shot up from your bed, having woken up in a cold sweat. Your heart was beating so fast, you felt like you could've had shortness of breath. You were still crying as you felt tears rushing down your cheeks. It took a while for you to calm down.

"(Y/N)?"

You jumped, hearing the sound of your name being called by a soft, but tired voice. A voice that sounded so familiar to you. You turned your head to meet eyes with Iida, who had a look of concern on his face. "Are you alright?" he asked worriedly. Unbeknownst to you, he had woken up after hearing you move around in your sleep. Before he could try to wake you up, you already did, shooting straight up from the bed the moment you woke up.

At first, you couldn't believe your eyes. A while ago, your beloved boyfriend had been killed by a villain. Beaten up, tied up, turned into a statue, then thrown against the ground to be shattered into pieces. There was nothing left of him. So how in God's name did he come back alive?

All of a sudden, you felt your lips start to quiver, almost as if you were about to cry. You did; you burst into tears as you threw yourself into Iida's chest, burying your face into it. Iida took no time to wrap his arms around you and rubbed your back. As you sobbed, you felt his other hand run its fingers through your hair. "Shhh," he whispered comfortingly. "Let it out, my love. It's okay, it's okay..."

The two of you remained in that position for some time until your sobs died down into sniffles. Pulling away from Iida, you looked up at him through glossy vision. Iida felt his heart sink, seeing your tear-stained cheeks and the fear in your eyes. He hated seeing you upset like this. Thank All Might, he thought, that he was there to comfort you. Otherwise, what could he have done if he wasn't?

"Now, what happened?" he asked. He began to wipe your tears that were still on-pouring.

"I..." you felt your voice crack. "I just had a nightmare. A real bad one, honestly." While you were still shaken, you felt some comfort from your boyfriend's touch.

"Oh," Iida nodded. "Do you...want to talk about it? Please don't force yourself to do so if you don't want to. I completely underst—"

"No, it's fine," you reassured him. You took a couple of breathes to calm yourself down. "All I remember is trying to find you 'cause for some odd reason the world went to chaos? And then I found you, completely beaten up and tied up. You looked like you were about to die. And a villain was standing next to you, who was about to kill you. I pleaded with him multiple times not to, but...he didn't listen."

You paused for a moment to collect your thoughts. Iida gently placed his hand on your shoulder. "It's okay, (Y/N)," he reassured you with a soft smile, "I'll wait for you."

You nodded. Then you were able to get back on track. "And then after that, the villain decided to kill you. He had a quirk that seemed to be able to turn people into statues if he touched them, I guess. So he put his hand on your shoulder, turning you into a statue. I...I wanted to do something to stop him, but I couldn't. All I could do was watch as he lifted you up and then...throw you into the ground. And you just...broke into pieces..."

You felt yourself starting to shake. Iida, on the other hand, couldn't help but widen his eyes as he heard about the last couple of details. He didn't know if there was an actual villain out there with that exact quirk. But quite frankly, it was terrifying.

You hugged Iida again, the waterworks beginning to work. "Tenya," you whimpered. "Please. I know you're dedicated to your hero work and stuff, but please. Be careful out there. I don't want you to get hurt or even die, 'cause what would I do then? H...How am I gonna live without you...?"

Iida's heart broke seeing your upset facial expression when you first woke up. Now his heart broke even more hearing your voice. Sadness and fear were two things he didn't want you to feel, and he'd do about anything to make sure you were alright. Wrapping his arms back around your body, he whispered, "Don't be scared, (Y/N). I promise I'll be careful. I don't plan on dying anytime soon, nor do I even want to think about it. You'll be safe with me, and it is my duty as your boyfriend to keep you safe!"

That was enough to reassure you that all of that was a nightmare, and your boyfriend was safe and sound. You felt comforted, to say the least.

"Now," Iida moved the blanket and laid back down in bed, "let's get some sleep. It's quite late already. I can cuddle you if you want."

A smile growing on your lips, you nodded as you also laid back down in bed. You scooted closer to Iida, and wrapped your arms around him. As you buried your face in his chest, you let out a soft sigh. Nothing would ever beat Iida's cuddles. You would never take them for granted since he only liked cuddling when in private. Soon enough, you started feeling tired. The moment your eyelids began to feel heavy, you didn't bother trying to fight back and soon enough you fell asleep.

Safe in Iida's arms. Feeling loved and comforted.

(**) i am not good at coming up with quirks, so that one might seem lame LOL.

#bnha #bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #iida tenya #bnha iida #iida x y/n #bnha x y/n #fanfiction #oneshot #bnha fluff #bnha comfort #bnha imagines #bnha iida imagines #iida x reader #mha x reader #mha reader insert #mha x y/n #kristin's writings

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