#i CRIED while writing the first draft of this

[eliashirsch]

Slow and steady wins the race... Still slugging along this WIP.

This is actually more of an Ice character study rather than focusing on them figuring their relationship out. Let's see how it goes for the second draft. But I love, LOVE, some of the lines I wrote. I think really taking the time to focus more on each sentence rather than dashing through the finish line really helps.

I'm just starting the third act, so hoping I can finish soon :)

[that-was-anticlimactic]

*eyes all the posts from the stage play* i wonder what corey watched recently……….

(where did you watch it?? i’ve been wanting to)

HI HI HI

okay. okay okay okay. hil. i cannot tell you how many times i've watched the stage play in the last week. both the first one and the second one. i just. frick. they're SO GOOD!!! and mob's stage play actor iS HIS VOICE ACTOR!!! and the costumes are amazing and God the actors are INCREDIBLE teru's actor literally was one of the highlights of the first stage play. his fight scene with mob... literal chills. and the guy who plays kamuro is just. so so so GOOD. incredible. and ritsu's actor is just. UGH. so good. incredible. and reigen's and dimple's and tome's and EVERYONE and shou is in the second stage play and he just has beef with reigen the whole time and he plays shou SO well and really nails the "i'm going to cause problems ON PURPOSE TEHE" vibes and just. y eah. AND KOYAMA'S ACTOR TOO UGH SO GOOD. and the vp of the student council plays a bunch of different characters and he kills it too. i just. frick. and i've watched the bows so many times too because the cast is just. they're such good friends and it warms my heart ahhhhhhh

omg and one of my favorite parts is. there's this part where dimple is doing some narration and it's the whole "the two have to deal with the consequences of their actions and one is like high off the feeling and one is depressed" but like he says it better than that lol aNYWAYS and when he refers to kamuro, his actor like doubles over in laughter and GOSH IT'S SO GOOD and when he refers to ritsu, he doubles over and SCREAMS UGH CHILLS CHILLS CHILLS

omg and teru's actor also plays hitoshi who is reigen's client at the beginning of the second stage play and gosh those two worked so well together oiuyfdxfghuijuhgf it was SO FUNNY

ahem. yes. i uh. i watched the stage plays. a. a very normal amount of times.

YES HOW TO WATCH THEM!!!

this has the link to the first one! there's a password which is in the post and then it'll give you another password and it doesn't let you copy and paste the second one directly from the website, but someone left instructions with an easier way to copy it in the comments!

this has a link to the second one! there's a password which is in the post and then it'll give you another password and someone copied and pasted this one in the comments so you can copy and paste the second password from there!

the third one hasn't been subbed yet:( i've watched as many clips of it as i can find, but there aren't a lot of clips yet so i've just been. rewatching the first two probably too much lol

LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THEM

[callisthoe06]

Callisto's Death | Extended Ver.

Summary: Mourning the loss of his boyfriend, Callisto decides to offer himself as a sacrifice to a legendary deity to save his kingdom from a magical storm and be reunited with his lover. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- The storm clouds that perpetually shrouded Lunaria left the skies in perpetual darkness. Callisto trudged up to Serenity Peak, clutching a bouquet in his trembling hands. As he reached the grave, he knelt on the sodden ground, scraping away the muck and dirt from the weathered stone with his bare hands. His chest tightened with a sigh as he placed the bouquet gently by the headstone.

“I miss you so much, Adrien,” he murmured, his voice breaking. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the rain that began to pour, washing over his sorrow as he sank to his knees in the muddy grass.

That night, sleep eluded Callisto as he gazed at the empty space where Adrien once slept beside him. Overcome with grief, he reached for a length of rope, wrapping it around his neck with a shaky hand.

Just then, Iris burst into the room, panic etched on his face. “Cal, no!” he shouted, casting a stasis spell to freeze his cousin in place. With trembling hands, Iris removed the noose and carefully laid Callisto on the bedroom floor. As the spell's effects wore off, Callisto's composure shattered, and he wept uncontrollably, mourning for Adrien. ~ The storms ravaging Lunaria grew fiercer with each passing day, a consequence of Minerva’s chaotic magic. Desperate to quell the devastation, the Libelula Tribe proposed a grim solution: to sacrifice Callisto, King Ganymede’s youngest son, to appease the deities. King Ganymede’s face blanched when he heard Mirak’s proposal. “What did you say?” he demanded, his voice barely contained fury. “We need to offer Callisto to the deities,” Mirak explained with a heavy heart. “It’s the only way to stop Minerva’s storm from spreading.” “No! You can’t do this!” Ganymede’s roar of anguish echoed through the hall. “I can’t lose him too,” he choked out, struggling to maintain his composure in the face of his worst fear. Unbeknownst to his father and Mirak, Callisto overheard their conversation. He raced down the palace corridors, seeking solace from his friends who waited anxiously in the foyer. “What’s going on?” Cindy asked, her voice filled with concern as she placed a comforting hand on Callisto’s back.

“Mirak wants to sacrifice me to the nature deities to end the storm,” Callisto said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t have anything left to live for, anyways.” he added, his trembling words a testament to his deep despair. “What about us, Cal?”, Iris asked. However, Callisto remained silent. “Cal, please…we already lost Adrien.”, Ruby begged, “We can’t lose you too.”, Mateo added. “I know everything hurts right now…but things will be better soon, I promise!”, Diego said as he hugged Callisto tightly, not wanting to let go. Chris was standing still, he didn’t know what to say but it was evident he felt sad that Callisto would be leaving them soon. “Yeah, besides, you’re the most badass friend I ever had! Who’s gonna protect us when you’re gone?”, he asked. Just then, Queen Amalthea entered the castle despite the crowd of people outside. She rushed toward Callisto, her shoes clicking with every step as she hugged him. “Callisto, my sweet, sweet nephew…please reconsider.”, she pleaded. “I’m sorry Aunt Thea but…no other demigod would do it. I’ll just sacrifice myself for the sake of the world.”, he said as he stood still. Callisto’s voice was rather relaxed, he was feeling numb from grief. Just then, Mirak walks into the foyer and eyes Callisto. “Your Highness, please…you’re our only hope.”, Mirak begged. “Go ahead…take me to your ship.”, Callisto said as everyone gasped in shock. “A-are you sure, your Highness?”, Mirak asked. He hesitated to take this boy’s life, but desperate times call for desperate measures. “I’m certain.”, Callisto replied as Mirak escorted him outside the castle. “Callisto, wait!”, King Ganymede called out as he rushed toward the foyer. “Dad?”, Callisto looked back, tears in his eyes. “Son, please…don’t do this. I-I’ll find a way to bring Adrien back, or maybe-”, his words were cut short as Callisto placed his hand on his chest. “Dad, I’ll be fine.”, he said with a teary-eyed smile. “If this is the only way I’ll be reunited with Adrien, then so be it. My decision is final”, he continued, a hint of sadness in his voice. As Callisto and Mirak made their way through the narrow, cobblestone streets leading to the harbor, they were met with a cacophony of angry voices. The air was thick with tension and the acrid smell of smoke from burning effigies. Outside the grand castle gates, a throng of people had gathered, their faces twisted in rage and desperation. “Traitor! Witch!” The crowd chanted, their voices rising in a frenzied crescendo. Posters and banners depicting Callisto as a storm-bringer fluttered wildly in the wind, adding to the chaos. The protesters, many of whom had been struggling with ruined crops and flooding, were convinced that Callisto was the cause of the relentless storm that had plagued Lunaria for months.

Callisto exchanged a worried glance with Mirak. His face was etched with concern as he observed the surging crowd. “We should hurry,” the old man said, his voice barely audible over the noise. “If we don’t get to the ship soon, we might not make it out of here.”

“I know,” Callisto replied, his voice steady but laced with an edge of frustration. “But I can’t help feeling they’re not entirely wrong.”

As they pushed through the crowd, a woman at the forefront of the mob, her face streaked with tears and soot, screamed directly at Callisto. “You’ve brought nothing but misery to us!” she shouted, shaking a clenched fist. “Our homes are flooded, our fields are ruined. How many more will suffer before you’re satisfied?”

Callisto met her gaze with a mix of sadness and resolve. “I’m trying to stop this storm, not make it worse. Please, just give me time.”, he said, his voice calm yet firm.

Mirak placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he guided him through the tumultuous crowd. “Keep moving, Callisto. We’re almost there.”

Despite their efforts, the path was fraught with obstacles. A group of protesters surged forward, blocking their way with a makeshift barricade of overturned carts and wooden planks. “He’s not going anywhere!” a burly man declared, brandishing a pitchfork.

Callisto stepped forward, his eyes filled with determination. “I assure you, I’m not your enemy. If you let me go, I promise I’ll do everything in my power to fix this.”

The man hesitated, the anger in his eyes wavering as he met his earnest gaze. Finally, with a muttered curse, he stepped aside, allowing Callisto and Mirak to pass.

As they neared the ship, the sounds of the mob began to fade, replaced by the rhythmic clanging of shipyard tools and the distant calls of dockworkers. Mirak breathed a sigh of relief. “We made it. Let’s get on board before they decide to change their minds.”

Callisto took one last look at the chaotic scene behind him. The faces of the protesters were a haunting reminder of the desperation and suffering that drove their actions. “I’ll make this right,” he vowed softly, mostly to himself. “Somehow, I will.”

With that, he boarded the ship, the distant shouts of the crowd slowly fading into the background as the vessel prepared to set sail.

Just before the boat could fully leave, Iris made a swift, quiet leap onto the deck from the edge of the pier. He darted behind a stack of large crates, his movements swift and silent. His heart pounded as he hid in the shadows cast by the crates, his gaze fixed on Callisto. He hoped his presence would provide his cousin with some comfort and companionship in the dire situation.

The boat continued to glide away from the pier, and its departure was now underway. The distance between Callisto and his friends grew. Still, Iris remained resolutely hidden, determined to stay close to Callisto and offer whatever support she could as they ventured into the unknown. As the medieval boat slowly departed the dock, Callisto could see Ganymede and Europa, embracing each other, weeping as they looked at him for one last time. He glances at them and looks onto the horizon, tears forming at the base of his eyes (not because this would be the last time he’d see his family, but because he knew he’d be reunited with Adrien soon). In mere moments, the dock became a blur in the distance as the ship began its voyage, determined to bring an end to this mighty storm. ~

The voyage to the Sacred Island was arduous and grueling, spanning several days of tumultuous seas and unrelenting winds. Callisto, bound to the ship’s mast with heavy ropes, endured the discomfort of his confinement with remarkable fortitude. The ship’s crew, while wary of their prisoner, had entrusted him to the care of the Libelula Tribe’s native emissaries, who were skilled in the art of ceremonial preparations.

The natives, draped in intricately patterned robes and adorned with ceremonial face paint, tended to Callisto with a blend of reverence and efficiency. Each day, they brought him small amounts of water and simple, nourishing food—fresh fruits, salted fish, and loaves of bread—ensuring that he remained healthy despite his restraints.

On the third day, they began their more elaborate preparations. Callisto watched as they released him from his binds before carefully combing and restyling his long hair, weaving it in delicate, ornate braids and decorating them with feathers and beads. The transformation was striking: his once disheveled appearance was now adorned with ceremonial adornments that spoke of an ancient tradition. They draped him in a special, azure sacrificial garment, a garment of flowing, richly dyed fabric embroidered with symbols of the tribe’s sacred lore.

The garment felt both strange and weighty, its vibrant colors contrasting starkly with the coarse ropes that bound him earlier. ~

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky with hues of orange and purple, Iris approached the ship’s rail, his expression filled with concern. He had been a steadfast ally, and his worry was evident as he stepped up to Callisto, his voice carrying a mix of urgency and care.

“Callisto, we need to talk,” Iris said, his voice barely rising above the sound of the waves crashing against the hull. He moved closer, his eyes searching Callisto’s face for signs of distress.

Callisto, his head tilted slightly downward as he struggled against the weight of the heavy cape, met Iris’s gaze with a steady look. “What is it, Iris?”

Iris’s face was etched with lines of worry. “You don’t have to go through with this. There must be another way. If you’re sacrificed, we’ll lose our best chance to protect our kingdom. I need you. Lunaria needs you.”

Callisto, despite the sorrow, managed a reassuring smile. “Iris, I truly appreciate your concern. But this is something I must do. The Libelula Tribe believe this sacrifice is crucial for their rites, and if it helps us stop the storm, then it is worth it.”

“But what if—” Iris started, his voice trembling with the weight of his fear.

“No, Iris,” Callisto interjected softly but firmly. “This is my choice. I’ve made peace with it. The power of Minerva’s storm is beyond us now, but if my sacrifice can bring peace and restore balance, then I accept it. It’s not just for Lunaria but for something greater.”

Iris shook his head, his hands gripping the rail tightly. “You’re brave, Callisto, but bravery doesn’t always mean you should go willingly into the fire. We could still find another way.”

Callisto shook his head slightly, his expression resolute. “I’ve made my decision. It���s a risk I’m willing to take. Besides, this isn’t just about me. It’s about the larger picture. If this can reunite me with Adrien, then it’s worth it.”

Iris’s eyes were filled with unshed tears, a mixture of frustration and helplessness. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. If there’s any chance to turn back, take it. Please.”

Callisto’s gaze softened, and he nodded. “I promise to be careful. And know that, no matter what happens, I’m grateful for your support and friendship.”

The moment was heavy with unspoken emotions, the weight of the impending sacrifice hanging in the air between them. Iris took a deep breath and nodded, reluctantly stepping away, his face set in a grim expression of acceptance.

As Iris left, Callisto turned his gaze back to the horizon, the sun now a faint memory behind the darkening sky. The ship continued its journey, and with every passing wave, Callisto’s resolve strengthened. He knew the path ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but his purpose remained clear: to bring an end to the storm and fulfill his role in the sacred rites.

~

The night had settled in with a deep, velvety darkness, and the ship was bathed in the soft, silvery light of the moon. The sea, calm and almost eerily tranquil, stretched out to the horizon. The gentle rocking of the vessel was the only reminder of its steady journey.

Suddenly, the serene silence was broken by a low, rumbling sound that seemed to resonate through the hull. Callisto and Iris were jolted awake by the noise, their hearts racing with curiosity. They stumbled to the deck, their eyes adjusting to the dim light as they searched for the source of the disturbance.

The sight before them was nothing short of magical. A pod of whales, their massive bodies casting shadows in the moonlight, swam gracefully alongside the ship. The ocean around them was alive with a shimmering spectacle: a school of bioluminescent jellyfish drifted near the surface, their delicate, glowing tendrils creating a mesmerizing light show.

Callisto and Iris stood side by side, their eyes wide with wonder as the whales glided through the water, their enormous tails sending ripples that sparkled with the light of the jellyfish. One of the whales, its sleek form breaking the surface with a powerful thrust, breached just in front of the ship. The splash was colossal, a roaring cascade of water that seemed to explode into the air before crashing back down with a thunderous boom.

“Look at that!” Iris exclaimed, his voice filled with awe. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Callisto, equally captivated, watched in silence, his gaze following the graceful arcs of the whales as they disappeared beneath the waves and reappeared moments later. “It’s breathtaking,” he agreed. “It’s like witnessing a dream made real.”

As the whales continued their nocturnal feast, the pair remained on deck, entranced by the display. The bioluminescent jellyfish floated gently on the water’s surface, their light fading and brightening with each undulating movement of the sea. The whales’ songs, deep and resonant, seemed to echo through the night, adding to the ethereal atmosphere.

After some time, the whales gradually drifted away, their silhouettes fading into the distance. The bioluminescence dimmed, and the ocean returned to its usual calm, though the magic of the moment lingered in the air.

Callisto turned to Iris, a soft smile on his face. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Iris. It’s a reminder of the beauty in the world, even amidst our struggles.”

Iris, his eyes still reflecting the wonder of the night, nodded. “I’m glad we saw it together. It’s moments like these that make me realize how small we are in the grand scheme of things, and yet how significant our actions can be.”

They stood in companionable silence for a few moments longer before Iris gently placed a hand on Callisto’s shoulder. “You should try to get some rest,” he said softly. “We have a long journey ahead, and you’ll need your strength.”

Callisto looked at Iris, his eyes showing a mixture of gratitude and weariness. “You’re right. I’ll try to get some sleep. But first, I just want to savor this feeling for a little while longer.” Just then, Callisto reached into his wrist and removed his blue bracelet. He held the trinket in his hands before handing it over to Iris. “I’d like for you to have this, Iris.”, Callisto said softly as Iris took the bracelet in his hand. “But…this is your favorite bracelet.”, Iris replied. “Think of it as my parting gift to you.”, Callisto whispered as he caressed his cousin’s face lovingly. 

As Callisto began to drift off, Iris helped him settle down on a soft patch of deck, where he could rest comfortably. Iris’s exhaustion was evident, but he stayed by Callisto’s side, a silent guardian.

After a few minutes, Iris leaned down and gently wrapped his arms around Callisto, pulling him into a comforting embrace. “Sleep well,” Iris murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. “We’ll face whatever comes next together.”

Callisto, enveloped in the warmth and security of Iris’s embrace, felt a deep sense of peace. His eyes fluttered closed as he allowed the rhythmic rocking of the ship and the distant echoes of the whales to lull him into a tranquil slumber. “Thank you, Iris,” he whispered just before sleep overtook him. “For everything.”

Iris held Callisto close, his own eyes closing as he took in the serenity of the night, allowing himself a brief moment of rest before the challenges of the coming days.

~

The following day, the vessel arrived at its destination. The island had an enormous seaside cave, littered with dead plants at its entrance, which led into a dark tunnel where the deity resides.

As the early morning mist began to lift from the ocean, the crew and native emissaries prepared for the next stage of their journey. Callisto was guided by the tribe’s emissaries to a small, weathered raft that bobbed gently beside the ship. The raft was adorned with intricate carvings and tribal symbols, a stark contrast to the sturdy vessel from which he was departing.

Accompanying Callisto was Lara, the tribe’s priestess, her presence both solemn and dignified. She wore ceremonial robes that flowed like liquid silk, adorned with symbols that marked her as a spiritual guide. Her eyes, though gentle, held a serious resolve as she prepared to escort Callisto to the Sacred Island.

Iris, his face a portrait of desperation, rushed to the side of the raft. His hands grasped Callisto’s, his voice trembling with emotion. “Callisto, I’m begging you…please don’t do this.”

Callisto looked up, his eyes brimming with tears that glistened in the pale morning light. The pain and resolve were evident in his expression. “Iris, you know I have to,” he said quietly, his voice breaking slightly. “This is the only way to end the storm and save Lunaria.”

Iris’s grip tightened as he fought to hold back his own tears. “But you don’t have to make this sacrifice. There’s got to be another way. We can find a solution, together.”

Callisto shook his head, his gaze falling to the blue crescent moon necklace that hung around his neck. A memory flashed in Callisto’s head, showing him when Iris gave him the necklace when he turned 5. With a trembling hand, he removed the pendant as he held it out to Iris. “Take this,” Callisto said, his voice soft but resolute. “It’s a reminder of what we’ve been through. Please keep it safe.”

Iris took the necklace, his fingers brushing against Callisto’s. “I will. I promise.”

With tears streaming down his face, Callisto pulled Iris into a final, heartfelt embrace. The two men held each other tightly, their breaths mingling as they savored this last moment together. The raft, its small, sturdy frame now burdened with Callisto’s resignation, began to drift away from the ship, slowly separating the two.

As the raft moved further from the ship, the darkness of the early morning cloaked it, the silhouette of Callisto and Lara becoming a mere shadow against the backdrop of the sea cave. Iris watched, his heart heavy with regret and helplessness. 

When the raft was just a dark shape against the horizon, Iris stepped back from the edge, his shoulders slumped. With a deep, sorrowful sigh, he turned and made his way back to the ship. Every step felt like a burden as he climbed aboard, his eyes still fixed on the vanishing raft.

He stood at the rail, staring into the darkness where Callisto had disappeared, his heart aching with the weight of their parting. The ship’s crew moved around him, their movements subdued, mirroring the somber mood that had settled over the vessel. Iris felt a profound sense of loss, knowing that his cousin was now embarking on a path from which there was no return.

As the raft faded completely from view, Iris remained at the rail, clenching the blue crescent moon necklace tightly in his hand, a symbol of their shared history and the painful reality of their separation.

~ As the raft approached the Sacred Island, the scene shifted to the interior of a dimly lit cave, the air thick with anticipation and a hint of incense. Lara, the tribe’s priestess, worked with meticulous care to prepare Callisto for the final ritual. The cave’s walls were adorned with ancient carvings that flickered in the soft light of torches, casting eerie shadows that danced across the stone.

Lara’s hands moved deftly as she fixed Callisto’s hair, weaving the intricate braids and adding ceremonial adornments. She adjusted the ceremonial garment, ensuring that every detail was perfect. The garment, now resplendent with vibrant colors and elaborate embroidery, seemed to glow with an inner light as Lara carefully placed a hibiscus flower onto Callisto’s headpiece.

Callisto, feeling the weight of the moment and the finality of the impending ritual, looked at Lara with a mixture of apprehension and resolve. “I’m not ready,” he said, his voice tinged with a note of uncertainty.

Lara, her expression softening into a reassuring smile, gently adjusted the hibiscus flower so that it sat just right on his headpiece. “Now you are,” she said calmly, her voice carrying a soothing cadence.

As she spoke, a beam of light began to pierce through the darkness at the end of the cave. The light grew brighter, illuminating the cavern with an otherworldly glow. Callisto’s eyes widened in awe as the source of the light became clear: the deity of the Sacred Island, having just awakened from its long slumber, emerged from the shadows.

The deity was a magnificent and imposing figure, its fish-like form shifting between solid and ethereal, with eyes that glowed like twin moons. As it moved, the cave seemed to resonate with its ancient power, the air vibrating with a deep, resonant hum.

Lara stepped back and began to chant softly, her voice rising in rhythmic incantations that filled the cavern with a haunting melody. The deity responded to the chant, opening its vast, otherworldly mouth. From within, a multitude of glowing, white tentacles emerged, their bioluminescent tips casting a soft, ethereal light.

The tentacles floated gracefully through the air, their movements both mesmerizing and hypnotic. They reached out toward Callisto, enveloping him in their gentle, glowing embrace. Callisto, though initially taken aback, soon found himself entranced by the sight. His earlier fear seemed to dissipate as the tentacles lifted him slowly off the ground.

He gazed up at the deity, his eyes reflecting the swirling light and the divine majesty of the creature. “This is... incredible,” Callisto murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lara continued her chant, her voice growing more intense and urgent. The tentacles guided Callisto gently toward the deity’s open mouth, their touch both soothing and invigorating. The young prince felt a profound sense of calm and acceptance, as if the deity’s presence was enveloping him in a cocoon of peace.

With one last look at Lara, whose face was now a mask of solemnity and grace, Callisto surrendered to the moment. He felt the light intensify, its brilliance wrapping around him like a warm embrace. The air shimmered with energy as he was drawn closer to the deity.

In a final flash of radiant light, Callisto vanished from view, his form dissolving into the divine luminescence. The cave fell silent, save for the lingering echoes of Lara’s chant and the faint, ethereal glow that still lingered in the air. The deity’s mouth closed gently, and the light slowly faded, leaving behind only the soft murmur of the sea and the distant, haunting melody of Lara’s incantations. ~ Inside the deity’s mouth, the atmosphere was a surreal blend of otherworldly light and shifting shadows. The cavernous interior was suffused with a soft, pulsing glow that seemed to emanate from the deity itself. The air within was warm and charged with a profound sense of ancient power, vibrating gently with the rhythm of the deity’s breaths.

As Callisto was guided further into the deity’s maw by the glowing tentacles, he felt a profound sense of both awe and trepidation. The tentacles, now forming a protective cocoon around him, exuded a gentle, soothing warmth that seemed to resonate with the very essence of his being. Their light was soft yet intensely bright, creating an almost liquid radiance that washed over Callisto.

The tentacles, with their bioluminescent tips, began to move with deliberate precision, encircling Callisto’s body and casting intricate patterns of light and shadow on the interior of the deity’s mouth. The sensation was both otherworldly and tranquil, as though Callisto were being cradled in a divine embrace.

Without warning, the tentacles started to gently separate Callisto’s soul from his physical form. It was a sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced—an indescribable feeling of both release and elevation. His physical body, still ensconced in the warm light of the tentacles, felt weightless and distant, as if it were becoming a mere shadow of his true self.

The separation began subtly, with a soft, tingling sensation at the core of his being. Callisto felt his consciousness expanding, rising beyond the confines of his physical form. It was as though a veil had been lifted, allowing him to perceive a higher realm of existence. The boundaries of his body blurred and then dissolved, leaving behind only the essence of who he was—his soul.

In an instant, the deity’s mouth transformed from a cavernous, enigmatic space into a passageway of pure light. The soft glow intensified, enveloping Callisto’s soul in a radiant aura. He felt himself being drawn upward, as if being pulled by an irresistible force toward a magnificent source of illumination.

The light grew brighter, and Callisto’s soul ascended through it, leaving behind the darkness of the deity’s mouth. The transition was both exhilarating and peaceful, the intense brightness wrapping around him like a warm, celestial embrace. He felt a profound sense of unity and oneness with the universe, as if he were merging with the divine essence of the Sacred Island itself.

As the light reached its zenith, the surrounding darkness receded entirely, and Callisto was fully immersed in the brilliant radiance. The cave and the deity’s maw faded into nothingness, replaced by an overwhelming sense of enlightenment and tranquility. The young prince’s soul, now free from the physical realm, was transported to a higher plane of existence, where the boundaries of time and space seemed to dissolve, leaving only the pure, eternal light of the divine.

-

Outside the cave, Iris stood at the edge of the ship, his face etched with a mix of hope and anxiety. The tribesmen gathered around him, their expressions a blend of reverence and anticipation. They watched in solemn silence as the soft, ethereal light that had been emanating from the cave began to wane.

The glow gradually dimmed until it was but a faint shimmer in the distance. The air was filled with a tense stillness, broken only by the gentle murmur of the sea and the distant calls of seabirds. Iris’s heart pounded as he strained to see what was happening inside the cave.

Suddenly, the cave’s entrance burst forth with a dazzling explosion of light. A cloud of glowing, blue particles erupted from the mouth of the cave, swirling into the air like a celestial mist. The particles coalesced, forming a magnificent shape—a colossal, luminescent butterfly.

The enormous butterfly unfolded its vast, iridescent wings, each wing covered in delicate patterns that shimmered with hues of azure and silver. The light from the butterfly was so intense and radiant that it dispelled the surrounding clouds, which had shrouded the island and the kingdom for what felt like an eternity. The once-dim skies began to clear, allowing the sun’s golden rays to pierce through and bathe the land in a warm, rejuvenating light.

The tribesmen gasped in awe and wonder as the butterfly hovered above the ocean, its presence commanding and majestic. The immense wings beat slowly and deliberately, sending ripples of shimmering light across the landscape. The sheer size of the butterfly was awe-inspiring, its body a gleaming beacon of hope and renewal.

Iris, his eyes wide with amazement, watched as the butterfly began its flight toward Lunaria. As it soared gracefully through the sky, it shed clouds of iridescent scales that drifted down like enchanted snowflakes. The scales fell upon the barren and withered land, instantly bringing it back to life.

Wherever the scales touched, the ground seemed to awaken with vibrant energy. Plants began to sprout and grow at an astonishing rate. Trees that had stood as lifeless skeletons for months now burst forth with lush, green foliage. Flowers bloomed in a riot of colors, their petals glistening with the last remnants of the butterfly’s magic.

The once-desolate fields and forests were transformed into a verdant tapestry of life and vitality. Rivers and streams that had been choked with debris and stagnation now flowed with crystal-clear water, their banks lined with flourishing greenery. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers and the melodious sounds of returning wildlife.

As the butterfly continued its flight, its presence seemed to renew the very essence of the land. It was as if Callisto’s sacrifice had breathed new life into the world, restoring balance and beauty.

Iris felt a profound sense of relief and awe as he witnessed the transformation. The kingdom, once engulfed in darkness and despair, was now basking in the resplendent light of the sun, and the promise of renewal seemed within reach.

The butterfly, its wings casting a final, radiant glow over the landscape, began to ascend toward the heavens. Its form grew fainter as it rose, becoming a distant, ethereal figure against the backdrop of the now-clear sky. The scales it had scattered continued to glimmer softly as they settled gently onto the rejuvenated land.

With the butterfly’s magic restoring the natural world, Iris stood among the tribesmen, his heart filled with a bittersweet sense of closure and hope for the future. The land was alive once more, and the kingdom’s path to healing had begun.

~

Meanwhile, in Umbra’s shrine, Queen Io watched as the giant blue butterfly flew overhead. She smiled, knowing her son had died, hoping his magic would be transferred to her. However, the scales that fell from the enormous Lepidopteran’s huge wings scorched Io’s skin, causing her to scream in agony before melting into a pile of sizzling hot flesh. ~ As the giant blue butterfly soared gracefully into the horizon, the scene was one of breathtaking beauty and profound emotion. The sky was a canvas of brilliant hues—deep oranges, purples, and gold—as the butterfly’s luminescent wings painted trails of shimmering light across the heavens. The majestic creature seemed to become one with the sun’s setting rays, its silhouette growing smaller and more ethereal until it finally vanished into the distance.

On the shores of Lunaria, Ganymede, Amalthea, Adrastea, Eurydome, and Europa stood together, their expressions a mixture of awe and sorrow. They had watched the butterfly’s magnificent flight with a deep sense of reverence, understanding that it marked the culmination of a momentous event. The transformation of the land was visible all around them, with vibrant greenery and blooming flowers emerging where once there was barrenness.

King Ganymede’s face was a portrait of grief and hope, his eyes following the butterfly’s final path until it disappeared from view. His eldest son, Europa, standing close by, reached out and took Ganymede’s hand, their shared sorrow binding them in silent solidarity. The others, including Amalthea and Adrastea, stood close together, their eyes reflecting the mix of emotions that filled the air.

After several days had passed, the anticipation and hope of the people of the kingdom grew palpable. The ship, now laden with the weight of their hopes and fears, approached the kingdom’s dock. The familiar sight of the vessel brought a wave of relief and expectation to the gathered crowd. Ganymede, Europa, and a host of Callisto’s friends, along with numerous citizens who had come to witness the return, stood on the dock, their eyes scanning the ship eagerly.

As the ship came to a halt and the gangway was lowered, the crowd surged forward, eager to welcome Callisto back. But as the crew disembarked, it became clear that the ship was not bringing the young prince back. Instead, the only people emerging from the ship were the tribesmen, Mirak, Lara, and Iris.

The crowd’s initial excitement turned to confusion and then to a deep, collective silence. Ganymede, his heart pounding, stepped forward, his eyes searching the faces of the returning crew for any sign of his son. The sight of Iris, who was holding a small, delicate object, did little to ease his growing sense of dread.

Iris, his face lined with exhaustion and sorrow, approached Ganymede. The atmosphere was heavy with the unspoken knowledge that Callisto was not returning. Iris’s voice was steady but filled with the weight of the truth he had to share. “I’m sorry,” he began, his voice carrying a somber note. “Callisto did what he had to do.”

As he spoke, Iris reached into his pouch and pulled out a small, blue bracelet. The bracelet glinted in the sunlight, its delicate design a stark reminder of Callisto’s presence. With a heavy heart, Iris extended the bracelet to Ganymede.

“This was the last thing Callisto gave me before he entered the cave,” Iris said, his voice cracking slightly. “He wanted you to have it.”

Ganymede took the bracelet with trembling hands, his eyes welling up with tears. He turned the bracelet over in his hands, his fingers brushing the intricate patterns and the familiar feel of the metal. The weight of the bracelet seemed to symbolize the loss of his son and the profound sacrifice that Callisto had made.

Europa, standing beside Ganymede, placed a comforting hand on his father’s shoulder. “He did what he believed was right,” he said softly, his voice filled with empathy. “And he did it for all of us.”

The crowd remained silent, their expressions reflecting the collective grief and respect for Callisto’s sacrifice. The kingdom’s people, once filled with hope for a joyful return, now stood in quiet mourning, their hearts heavy with the reality of their loss.

As the reality settled in, Ganymede, with the bracelet clutched tightly in his hand, took a deep breath and looked out at the sea. The transformation of the land was now visible, a testament to Callisto’s final act of courage. The land was green and alive once more, a bittersweet reminder of the price that had been paid.

The ship, now empty of its most precious passenger, remained at the dock as the crowd slowly dispersed, each person processing the news in their own way. Ganymede, his gaze still fixed on the distant horizon, knew that the kingdom would mourn the loss of their prince but would also remember and honor his sacrifice. The legacy of Callisto’s bravery and the magic he had wielded would live on in the rejuvenated land and in the hearts of those who had loved him.

~

In the vast expanse of limbo, Callisto wandered through an endless, dark void. The surroundings were a profound, inky blackness that seemed to stretch infinitely in every direction. The emptiness was both vast and suffocating, with no visible landmarks or points of reference. Every step he took felt weightless, as if he were walking through a heavy mist. His voice echoed endlessly as he called out, his voice growing hoarse from the effort of searching. 

“Adrien!” he shouted, his desperation ringing through the void. “Adrien, can you hear me?”

His calls seemed to dissolve into the darkness, swallowed by the oppressive silence. The lack of response only intensified his sense of isolation and despair. He continued to walk, his footsteps echoing in the void, each one seemingly as futile as the last.

After what felt like an eternity of aimless wandering, Callisto noticed a faint, green beam of light appearing in the distance. It cut through the darkness like a beacon of hope, casting a soft, emerald glow that contrasted starkly with the surrounding void. Driven by a newfound sense of purpose, Callisto began to move towards the light. The beam seemed to grow stronger and more defined as he approached, guiding him with its warm, inviting hue.

As he drew closer, the void around him began to shift and change. The darkness receded, revealing hints of color and movement. The green light expanded, and the space around him transformed into a breathtakingly beautiful landscape. The void was replaced by a lush valley, bathed in the soft, golden light of a distant sun.

The valley was a vision of natural splendor, filled with towering conifer forests whose emerald needles sparkled in the sunlight. The trees stood tall and majestic, their trunks wide and sturdy, creating a dense canopy of foliage that rustled gently in a pleasant breeze. Crystal-clear waterfalls cascaded down rocky outcrops, their waters sparkling as they tumbled into serene, turquoise pools below. The sound of the cascading water created a soothing, melodic background, adding to the sense of tranquility and wonder.

Callisto stood in awe, taking in the beauty of this new realm. The vibrant colors and the serene atmosphere were a stark contrast to the dark void he had just left. He breathed deeply, filling his lungs with the fresh, invigorating air of the valley.

Just then, a familiar voice pierced the calm, breaking the spell of the serene landscape. “Callisto!”

The voice was unmistakable, filled with warmth and affection. Callisto’s heart leapt with joy at the sound. He spun around quickly, his eyes scanning the lush surroundings. 

And there, standing amidst the greenery, was Adrien. He looked as he always had in his most vivid memories—alive and radiant, his presence a perfect reflection of the valley's natural beauty. Adrien’s eyes met Callisto’s, and a broad, heartfelt smile spread across his face. 

Callisto’s own face broke into a wide, elated smile, tears welling up in his eyes. “Adrien!” he cried out, his voice filled with a mix of relief and joy.

Adrien stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Callisto with an expression of profound love and recognition. The space between them seemed to shimmer with a palpable energy as they closed the distance. Adrien’s arms opened wide in an invitation, and Callisto rushed forward, enveloping him in a tight, emotional embrace.

The two held each other close, their hearts beating as one, savoring the warmth and familiarity of their reunion. The beautiful valley around them seemed to pulse with a life of its own, as if celebrating their joyous meeting. 

As they pulled back slightly, still holding each other’s hands, Callisto looked into Adrien’s eyes, his voice trembling with emotion. “I missed you so much,” he whispered.

Adrien’s smile was gentle and reassuring. “And I’ve been waiting for you. We’re together now, Callisto. Everything will be alright.”

The words, though simple, carried a deep sense of comfort and assurance. The valley around them, with its enchanting beauty and peaceful serenity, felt like a perfect haven for their reunion—a place where love and hope were rekindled.

~

Three years later, the kingdom had flourished once more, its streets and gardens radiant with the same vibrant life and splendor that had once characterized its golden age. The once-dimmed city now sparkled with renewed vitality, a testament to the resilience and spirit of its people. 

Iris, ever the adventurer and inspired by the memory of his cousin, Callisto, set out to explore the world beyond the kingdom’s borders. He wore Callisto’s crescent moon necklace as a symbol of their enduring bond, its delicate silver gleaming softly against his chest. The necklace was not just a memento; it was a beacon of hope and remembrance as he ventured into new lands, eager to embrace the wonders and challenges of the world.

Meanwhile, life had taken joyous turns for others close to Callisto. Mateo and Cindy, now expecting their second child, were surrounded by a warm, bustling home full of laughter and anticipation. Their love and the growing family were a source of immense joy, and their home was a haven of happiness and support.

Diego had embarked on a journey abroad, a heartfelt quest to reunite with his parents and reconnect with his roots. His travels were driven by a deep sense of longing and hope, and he was met with emotional reunions and newfound connections that brought him solace and a renewed sense of purpose.

Europa, alongside his wife, had devotedly raised their son, Eurydome, while ruling their kingdom with wisdom and compassion. Their reign was marked by peace and prosperity, and Eurydome grew up surrounded by the love and stability of his parents' joint efforts, symbolizing a hopeful future for their realm.

Yet, within the palace walls, a different, more somber atmosphere lingered. King Ganymede, deeply affected by the loss of his son Callisto, was still grappling with his grief. Despite the kingdom’s resurgence and the joyful changes in the lives of those around him, the king's heart remained heavy with sorrow. Each day, he left offerings by his bedroom door—candles, flowers, and trinkets—as a ritual of remembrance and a heartfelt plea for his son’s spirit to return to him. The offerings were his way of keeping Callisto’s memory alive, a silent, poignant testament to his enduring love and hope that, somehow, his son might find peace or come back to him in some form. 

Though the kingdom thrived and the lives of those who loved Callisto had found new paths, the king’s unyielding sorrow was a reminder of the deep bonds and the enduring pain that could coexist with hope and renewal. ~

In the realm beyond, Callisto found himself in a place of serene beauty, where the afterlife unfolded in the softest hues of tranquility. Here, he was joyously reunited with Adrien, their reunion a moment of pure, unblemished bliss.

Together, they wandered through fields awash with the vibrant reds of countless poppies, their laughter echoing in the gentle breeze. The air was filled with the sweet scent of the flowers, and as they chased each other playfully, their joy was palpable and unrestrained. Every step they took was a dance of freedom and love, a testament to their undying bond.

As the day softened into twilight, they found solace beneath the sprawling branches of a grand oak tree. The tree stood sentinel over a breathtaking panorama of the ocean, its surface shimmering with the colors of the setting sun. Together, they reclined on a bed of lush grass, their fingers entwined, as they gazed out at the horizon.

The sky was painted in shades of gold, pink, and lavender, each hue blending seamlessly into the next. The tranquil waves below mirrored the colors of the sky, creating a serene tableau of nature’s splendor. As the sun dipped lower, its light cast a warm, comforting glow over them, wrapping them in a cocoon of peace and contentment.

In this timeless moment, Callisto and Adrien shared a silence that spoke volumes—a silence filled with unspoken words of love, gratitude, and the joy of being together again. The sunset marked not just the end of the day but a beautiful new beginning in their eternal journey, a gentle reminder that love endures beyond the bounds of life and death. — The End

[dilvei]

Can you make yandere male dark prince who notices that his male fiance tries to run away from him?

𝐰𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 ( y! dark prince x m! fiancée reader )

yandere! prince x male! fiancée reader

warnings:

attempted murder

slight animal cruelty

choking

biting/marking

mention of blood

thank you for requesting <3 this went to a much darker route than intended tbh, because this guy kept getting worse in each draft I wrote lmfao. hopefully, you enjoy this since you did specify that the prince had a dark personality mwah mwah 💐💐 ( also imagine the face claim above has a big scar on the left side of the face heh ) 😈

big thanks to @kierahn for beta reading this for me <3 would not have noticed that much mistakes oof. 🌈🌈 kier writes yummy male reader stuff too so check out their blog guys! 💗💗💗💗

✾ | an arranged marriage comes with all sorts of expectations, especially when one is betrothed to a prince from a far larger, wealthier kingdom; his realm abound with riches and harvests, while yours struggle even to survive the winter.

✾ | the arrangement was made when you were both children. in exchange for this future union, your kingdom receives substantial aid from the neighboring realm, including its wealth and crops to sustain your people.

✾ | naturally, everyone was overjoyed by this news. a sad thing it is then, that the prince you are to marry falls short of your expectations.

✾ | not that he wasn't a handsome boy—the second prince is actually a bit more handsome than his elder brother—but the fact that he tried to kill you the first time you met him overshadowed any charm he might have possessed.

✾ | your memory blurs as to how it all went so, so wrong, but it's safe to say that it started when the prince, Lucien, held a small bird between his palms.

✾ | it was a cute little thing, as small as a teacup, with baby blue wings and a stout beak that chirped so sweetly as it looked up at the two of you.

✾ | you recall expressing a desire to keep it, to have its sweet chirping greet you each morning as a reminder of this meeting you share with him—you did not realize what a mistake it was to say such a thing.

✾ | with a fond smile directed at you, Lucien snapped the bird’s wing bone, ignoring its agonized cries as droplets of blood seeped through his small, boyish fingers.

✾ | you saw red. you pounced, lunging at Lucien. your nails scratched at his arms as he finally lets go of the bird, letting it fall to the ground.

✾ | he blinked, confused. “why?” he asked, dodging a blow. he didn’t understand why you were so angry, but you didn’t care to explain.

✾ | the two of you brawled, rolling on the ground as dirt and blood mixed together. but then, lucien grabbed a rock. he hesitated, if only for a moment.

✾ | you dodged, but not fast enough. a sharp pain tore through the corner of your lip, leaving a dark red gash blooming on the right side of your face.

✾ | the pain was sharp, but the sight of Lucien’s detached expression hurt more.

✾ | as anger welled up inside you, you reached for a rock of your own, gripping it tightly as you quickly decided to return the favor back to your future husband.

✾ | the stone connected with Lucien’s left cheek, and he screamed, staggering back. blood gushed down his face, a jagged cut marring his skin, the tip of it almost reaching his left eye.

✾ | the bird’s pained cries was the only sound that dared to break the uneasy silence that followed.

✾ | when your parents, and his, finally discovered the state the two of you were in, it was a truly a miracle in itself that the agreement continued, much to your overwhelming surprise.

✾ | you had no idea that it was Lucien himself who insisted on keeping the arrangement intact. you did not see the dark, almost hungry stare the boy directed at you as you gently picked up the silent bird.

✾ | years passed, seven to be exact, and the time has finally come for you to marry Lucien in a week’s time.

✾ | throughout the years, you’ve kept a close watch on him through your network of spies. and well, the reports have not been favorable, to say the least.

✾ | they say many things about him, but you grasp the essence of it quickly enough. how violence is etched into his very soul, how hatred always lingered on the tip of his tongue, how cruelty danced gleefully at the center of his heart.

✾ | the ugly scar on his face matched his equally ugly personality quite well, they say. and if you were a better man, you would have, perhaps, disagreed at such slander. but in the end, you only let a mirthful laugh escape your lips.

✾ | to be forever bound to such a person… you can’t even bear to imagine something so repulsive. there is no way you'll allow yourself to be married off to such a cruel, unpredictable man.

✾ | you seek to escape from this sham of an arrangement, but your parents refused to listen, and you don't think his will either. so in the end, running away seems like the best option available, and with what remains of your time, you plan.

✾ | there is much fanfare the day you and your family arrive in the neighboring kingdom, a day before the wedding. and while your family appears joyous at this, you feel the exact opposite.

✾ | when you finally set foot inside the palace, you find it amusing that his parents, with tired expressions, immediately inform you that the second prince cannot be found and that you will meet him at dinner instead.

✾ | you have an inkling of his whereabouts, thanks to the rumors you’ve heard countless times. at this hour, Lucien would most likely be in the brothels, sating his boredom to everyone's utter exhaustion and dismay.

✾ | but what you don’t understand are the strange rumors that he would always choose those who look most… like you. unsure of how to process this information, you’ve always chosen to ignore it.

✾ | as dinner time approaches, the table is set with dishes as lavish as you imagined, smoky meat, delicious gravy, and an array of mouthwatering sides.

✾ | a shame that you lost your appetite the moment you set eyes on the man that will become your future husband—a fate you’re determined to change, no matter what it takes.

✾ | although rumors depict your future husband as a scarred man, the scar you inflicted only accentuates his handsome features. it is infuriating, to say the least.

✾ | and though his appearance may have changed significantly, you have no doubt that he still harbors the same cruelty as the boy you met seven years ago.

✾ | and you stand corrected, as that night, he visits you in your chambers, shrouded in darkness, just as you were preparing to escape.

The first thing he says to you is your name.

"[Name]."

His voice is low, like the soft rumble of distant thunder, and you frown as your hands tighten around the bag full of your belongings—the very bag you were preparing to carry with you on your escape.

"Leaving so soon?" he continues when you make no sound to reply, taking a slow, deliberate step closer, and then another, until he stands right in front of you. "Without... me?"

He towers over you, easily.

You purse your lip, defiantly raising your chin as your mind scrambles for a way to escape him, to escape Lucien. "And why would you even care? We're practically strangers at best." And enemies at worst. For you have scarred each other, permanently marked the other with a wound that will never fade.

"Of course I care. We are to wed tomorrow. I will be yours, and you will be mine,” he says, the words settling between you like a promise, like a binding chain.

You scoff in disgust. "Wedding? Oh, please, this arrangement means nothing to us!" You stare into his eyes, blue as the deepest part of the midnight ocean. "You don't love me, Lucien, and I certainly don't love you."

Suddenly, his hand shoots out to grip onto yours, forcing you to release your bag. The strength of his grip hurts.

“You— Let go!” you shout, struggling against the pressure of his hold.

Lucien leans in, his breath eerily mingling with yours. This close, you can see the scar more clearly—an ugly, jagged line marring his otherwise unblemished, smooth skin.

“Do not put false words on my lips, [Name].” His tone carries the soft amusement of a gentle lover, yet there’s an unmistakable undertone—a dark compulsion, an obsession that lies right beneath the surface. “When have I ever said that I do not love you?”

Those words chill you to the core more than the coldest night winds ever could, settling into your bones with a penetrating dread that refuses to dissipate.

You can't believe what you're hearing. You can't believe his words. And so you say the only thing that comes to mind even though you know that it isn't true.

"You lie, Lucien."

He grips you tighter.

"You are a liar," you snarl, "and you are a fool if you think I would ever believe such a thing. Did you really think… those words would sway me? You think I haven't heard of your constant visits to those brothels?!"

Unexpectedly, his other hand moves to thread through your hair, soothing, but also unmistakably mocking, highlighted by the faux smile adorned on his face.

You allow it to happen, even though his every touch feels like a dangerous gamble. Because you know the man in front of you has grown to become the worst version of himself.

"I missed you. I could not have you, not yet anyway, so I sought what was available to me. I would not tarnish you, not until our wedding night," he says.

"Lies. Lies. Lies. Are you mocking me, Lucien? Are you? Just how naive do you think I am? Just how foolish? Such words do not soothe me. It is the exact opposite!"

You move, whispering into his ear. "Your very presence disgust me."

Suddenly, his fingers tighten in your hair, pulling your faces closer as pain shoots through your scalp, causing your breath to hitch. "Making me angry will not change my mind, [Name]."

"I don't care how you fucking feel. I'm leaving!" you say as you push against him with your hand, demanding him to release you.

He does, but both his hands swiftly shift to your neck, tightening around it and choking you as you now struggle to breathe.

"You can't leave. Don't be stupid. There's no boat waiting for you outside these walls. No one out there will help you escape," he whispers slowly. "Not when they're all dead, that is."

Shit. How did he know that? You've always been careful with your plans, and this one has been the most careful yet. Has he been keeping tabs on you without you knowing?

"It’s not fair, [Name]. I’ve waited a long time for you. I’ve been patient, have I not? I haven’t taken you away from your kingdom because of this patience. I’ve endured your cruel jeers because of this patience.”

He slams you onto the bed, his hand still painfully stealing your breath away. You claw at his grip, panic consuming your mind, but Lucien remains indifferent to your struggle, his expression cold and unyielding as he watches your desperate attempts to break free.

“I’ve been patient, because when we finally wed—and oh we will—you will be entirely mine.”

You don’t understand his persistence. Why is he so fixated on this? He can’t possibly want to marry you—he just can’t.

With all the strength you can muster, you punch him squarely in the face, hitting the scar you left him with years ago. He groans and releases you.

You sit up, clutching your throat as you struggle to speak. “Are you insane? You tried to kill me years ago! Why would I want to marry you, you lunatic?”

He lunges at you.

All of it is a blur of pain and punches, but the outcome is clear in the end—you’ve lost. Now, he looms over you on the bed, his fingers jammed painfully down your throat, silencing any further protests.

When you move to bite his fingers, he thrusts them deeper, choking you and cutting off your airflow once again.

"Don’t say such mean things to me, [Name]. I don’t like hearing them. And I’m certain you wouldn’t like it either if you were in my position.”

Tears well up in the corners of your eyes as you kick and punch desperately, struggling against his unyielding grip.

Lucien suddenly shifts his position, his expression darkening with a predatory focus.

Then— he sinks his teeth into your throat with a savage intensity. Blood wells up and spills over, warm and sticky against your skin. You scream at the sensation.

He licks the crimson liquid with a slow, deliberate motion, savoring the taste of you.

"This is where you belong, [Name]. Beneath me, and all, all mine—only mine. You were promised to me and I will not let anything get in the way of that."

The pleasure in his eyes is twisted, and then his teeth press deeper, the pain more insistent, sending shivers through your body.

He pulls back momentarily, his tongue tracing the bloody trail he has left.

As he licks the wound clean, a shocking realization flickers across his face. A laugh escapes him, first soft and incredulous, then growing louder and louder, mocking you.

Lucien grins.

“Well, would you look at that? You’re hard too,” he says, his tone fond. "I knew it. I always knew you were the one."

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your bloodied skin. You try to reply, but only a groan escapes as his finger still presses deeply into your throat.

"It’s a shame, but we should save that for tomorrow, beloved. Our true kiss should also be for then." He licks your neck again, and you shiver. "I’ve been patient for long. I can wait another day.”

And finally— he lets go.

You cough, stifling the urge to vomit as he slowly backs away from you in unhinged glee. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, oh future husband of mine.”

( It’s fine that you do not love him; he has made peace with that. Lucien knows that he can love enough for the both of you. )

As he finally leaves your room, an eerie silence fills your mind. Your body is wracked with chills, and sweat runs down your back as you close your eyes.

One thing is certain: You need a new plan, and fast.

[noxtivagus]

I HAVE WRITTEN SO MUCH IN MY NOTES IN THE PAST HOUR OH MY of today n then to-do dump n other stuff too 🫣

[mcu-coworkers]

Enough for you

Summary: You realized that maybe Miguel isn't who you thought he was.

Word count:1k+

warnings: Sad reader, Sad Miguel:(

Tag list: @ahopelessromanticwritersworld  @munixumai  @deputy-videogamer  @blueberry-thrawn  @neteyamsluvts  @um-well @stinygirl009​  @marcswife21 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum​  @juleshadalittlelamb​  @taygrls​  @tanchosanke​  @chuckle-nuts​

A/n: Hello everyone and welcome to part two of “you?” I will most positively be making a part three coming very soon! Thank you all for reading! (I listened to the sour album while writing this series rough drafts)

Parts: One  Two^ Three Four

Credits to the creator^

That night you cried yourself to sleep.

Partially because Miguel completely shot you down and partially because you left your friends and suit forever.

You couldn't bear to bring back the suit or go back to HQ knowing what you knew.

You could never face Miguel or any spider again.

You wanted to so desperately let it all go and forget.

But above all else there was a city that needed you and you’d always be there for them no matter what heartbreak comes your way.

In this moment, you wished you were as heartless as miguel.

Back at HQ Miguel was looking through endless security footage on all possible earths miles could have been on.

Truth was he needed a second pair of eyes.

“Lyla.” he barked out.

“Yes, boss.” she responded, appearing on his shoulder.

“Call y/n.” he said, pausing the footage to rub his eyes.

He could take advantage of this time to apologize.

“No can do.” she replied being short with him. To be fully honest Lyla had also had enough of his shit.

“What? Lyla it wasn't a question go get me Y/n. Now.” he said, not having the energy to deal with her jokes.

“No. Miguel, you don’t-” she tried again but he cut her off.

“Fine.  I  ‘ll go get her my fucking self.” he said swinging towards the door.

“She's gone, Miguel. And it's all your fault.” Lyla said behind him.

He froze,“What?” finding your watch and your suit he stopped thinking.

“She quit. Not just the spider society, she quit being a spider entirely. Because of what you said.” Lyla finished.

“ I   didnt-  I   didnt mean it..” he said, clutching your suit in his hand.

“Well you said it anyway and it hurt her.” She responded, “And if  I   were her  I‘d probably never come back too, she deserved better Miguel. Why did you lie?” she asked confused as to why he denied himself the chance of love.

“ I   was angry  I   wasn’t thinking straight.  I  didn’t mean it.” he said barely above a whisper.

“Yeah well you sold it as far as keeping up an act goes.” she said, sighing.

Miguel could always fix his mistakes. This would be a first.

Sighing he stood straight and turned back to his desk.

Miguel had a decision to make, you or the fate of the multiverse.

It's like he said, there's no room for that kind of stuff for guys like him.

Once again he was right.

“Get Ben and Jess in here and have them start with earth 42.” he said, sounding more defeated than ever.

Still, he was clutching your suit as if you were still in it. Your scent lingering.

“Yes, boss.” was all Lyla could muster up at the moment.

Her artificial heart was breaking for the both of you. He was so close to telling you she could feel it.

It just wasn't his strongest moment.

Neither was this one as he took out his anger on the poor monitor that happened to be in his way.

Back at home you laid in bed trying to find the motivation to get back up but the truth was you didn't want to.

Everytime you tried to create a new suit you just heard Miguel's abusive words like it was the first time all over again.

And it just made you want to hide under the blankets forever.

Your spidey senses went off and then there came the portal.

You knew it wasn't Miguel, he could never.

“Hey webby? You alright in there?” you heard.

Peter.

Taking the covers off you came face to face with an exhausted Peter and a sleeping May Day.

“Heard what happened at HQ  just wanted to check in if that's okay.” he added wondering if he could take a step closer.

“ I   really screwed it up this time pete.” you said wiping the tears away for the millionth time.

God you felt pathetic.

“No way kid, that was all him. You know that right.” he said sitting next to you.

“ I   should’ve been there. But even if  I   was, I don't know if  I‘d be on his side. Miles is just a kid, We’ve all been there right?” you asked. Thinking this way makes you feel guilty.

You should stand behind Miguel at all times.

But now what did it matter you’d never step foot in HQ ever again anyways.

“You're allowed to think whatever you want. He can't take that from you.” Peter reassured me.

He was right.

“You think you’ll ever come back?” he asked, he almost entirely knew the answer but he still held out hope for you.

“ I   don't think so Pete,  I‘m sorry.” you said looking down in shame.

The reality was you could never face him again.

“Don’t be  I   wouldn't stand for that either  I  ‘m pretty sure a lot of us are done for too anyways but listen, you’re never going to be alone.” he said putting a hand on your shoulder.

“If you ever decide to come back not just as spider woman, but to the society, just know you have people in your corner.” he said, giving you a warm smile.

“Thanks pete.” you said as he stood opening a portal.

“Hey pete?” you called out.

Turning back to you he waited for you to continue.

“Don’t ever stop sending me Pictures of May Day. I need my daily serotonin boost.” you said with a soft smile earning yourself a chuckle in return.

“Never kid.” he said as he walked his way into the portal.

A soon as he was gone you went back under the covers and took a deep breath.

Peeking your head out from under the cover you looked at the picture you had framed on your wall.

It was of you receiving the key to the city.

Your city, the one you saved day and night.

Whenever it called for you.

You earned that key the same way you earned the title of spider-woman.

And you weren’t gonna let some words take that from you.

Wiping the fresh tears away you got out of bed putting Miguel's words in the back of your head and got to designing.

You were bigger than his words and you’d prove it.

In that moment you promised you’d make him regret ever  making you feel like you’re not good enough.

One day he’s gonna feel sorry for himself.

And one day you’ll be everything to somebody else.

And he’ll be the one who's crying.

Yeah, one day.

*If you’d like to be added to the tagslist just let me know I am more than happy to :)

[pedge-page]

HIIIII UR LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAV WRITERS IN TUMBLR and ily so much 💝 i appreciate all your hard work that you poured into your writings, making them perfect to read. i've been obsessed with himbo!joel lately and i have an idea. idk if you've done this before but how ab himbo!joel and piss kink crossover? ignore this if you're feeling that you're not comfortable this ask! 🩷

Nonny, I know you submitted this back in May but this has been top of my mind for so long. When i first read this, I was ELATED because Himbo!Joel's original first draft was actually a piss kink! I went a different direction but I'm sooooo glad you've asked this because i didn't have to throw away the og after all :) Thank you for your patience and please enjoy!

Different Kind of Lovin'

Himbo!Joel Miller x F!Reader

warnings: Piss kink, Mommy kink, himbo!Joel, unprotected sex, peeing inside vagina, sub!Joel, dom-ish!Reader, public sex, slight somnophilia, brief piss drinking

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel howls as you clench around him, taking a moment to pant like a dog in heat.

He buries his nose into your neck, where it’s safe, where he belongs, as you stroke along his sweated back. “You okay, baby boy?” You coo softly into his ear.

You feel his head nod. “Mkay...” He shivers before kissing your cheek and resuming his thrusts. In, out, up, down, again and again, in ample rhythm. He’s practicing a beat today. There’s a time for wild fucking with the intent to cum his brains out, and there’s a time for slow, sensual, methodical sex, which is something he’s working so well on today.

“You’re doing so good for Mommy today."

He purrs. His hips stutter from excitement, and you feel his cock swell impossibly larger in your swollen, squelching pussy. Joel pauses briefly, collecting himself before returning to his steady pace.

“Mommy,” he hums dangerously. You turn your head to look at him, but he’s still buried into your neck. Almost as if embarrassed by something.

“What is it, baby? It’s okay, you can tell me.”

He grunts again, shaking his head. His pace falters again. Humping in quick, desperate succession. He’s straining hard, fists clenched under your upper back. 

You gather his face, and he nearly loses it right there. Your eyes on him, so soft and sincere, and there for him. Always there. Whenever he needs you and whenever he wants you. Even when he doesn’t know it yet. You’re there, you’re here, you’re his.

“Tell me,” you whisper lovingly while stroking along the stubble of his beard.

He gathers his courage. “Mommy. I—um. I need…I need to pee.”

You can laugh. but a small grin cracks at your lips. “Is that it?”

He nods quickly. You realize all the clenching, and the poor rhythm was most likely due to him trying to hold it, as opposed to trying to be steady. 

Your smooth calves slink along his taught ass before wrapping around, securing him to you.

“That’s okay, angel,” you nod encouragingly, using your ankles to start rocking his hips back and forth, driving his cock in and out of you again. He moans, pleasure consuming his intuition. “You can do it inside.”

“I-Inside?”

His length pulses excitedly, but he’s trying so hard to act like that didn’t just give him a thrill. As if he can pretend he didn’t think of it before.

“Mhm. You can squirt all your juices into Mommy’s pussy. I want everything you give me. Give me your juices, Joel. Mommy wants to feel your warmth filling her. No matter what it is. Mommy will take it.”

“But—ugh fuck Mommy please don’t squeeze like that—I don’t… wanna pee myself—“

“You’re not gonna pee yourself,” you say sternly. Your hands make their way to his ass, pulling him into you at your own desired pace. He can’t be left to be in control of his desires right now, so you need to take charge, to show him it’s really okay.

To show him what he’s missing out on.

“You’re gonna squirt your piss inside me. It’s gonna be okay. It’ll feel really good honey, I promise.”

“Oh my god,” he cries. His brows are drawn tightly together as he takes your lead. His throbbing member is practically forcing out your sweet pussy juices, making way to fill it with his own brew. 

You can barely see straight as he positions his knees to force himself deeper into your womb. Arching your back, Joel holds on tightly, arms tucked below your pits and hands snaked back over your shoulders as his whining increases. The room fills with your hot breaths, Joel’s throaty rasps, and the fastened slap of wet skin.

His voice catches in his throat when it happens. The tingling sensation feels free, and he releases inside of you. He can’t believe it. Can’t comprehend the feeling inside him, inside you right now. Dumping, pouring, squirting and stuffing you to the brim with his massive load of hot urine just shooting out of his cock and safely into your pussy. He never knew it could be this good. you were right, you always are of course, but to think it would amount to the level of pleasure, yet on a different end, as cumming inside you.

“That’s it—that’s my boy—ohhhh honey you had to go a lot didn’t you?” You tease, eyes rolling as you start to shake and cum around his cock. “Oh fuck! Oh baby that’s it. Keep squirting inside me. Fuck you always have big load. Always ready to fill Mommy with your sweet hot juices. Fuck Joel, keep going!”

You quiver as Joel’s mouth still is agape, watching you, having an out of bodied experience himself. He feels another stream, stronger than the last ready to make its way from his bladder to your cunt, and here it comes-- fuck yes!

Hot and wet, his urine plunges out of you in spurts, soaking your ass and the bed below. He pushes in further, feeling his balls and pelvis get soaked with his new juices that his Mommy loves so much. Why had he never peed inside you before? Given the blissed out look on your braindead face, he knows you liked it, you liked it so much. He starts thrusting again, eager to give you more of his warm juices from his body.

The squelch is phenomenal. So hot, hot, hot, sticky and wet all over. Fueled now the he still hasn’t cum. Where his piss ends and your slick begins, he can’t tell, and he loves it. Loves that he’s put something in you that couldn’t be contained, flows out like the love he fills you with each day.

You laugh off his hungry fucking again, no longer caring to practice rhythm. He can rut, hump, piss and cum to his hearts content. So long as he’s buried balls deep inside you, anything he wants to pour into you, he’s eager to put it in.

Eventually, he can’t pee anywhere comfortably unless it’s inside you. Which makes regular day to day routines… slightly more complicated than before. 

Like at night, when you’re fast asleep with his cum still sticky and leaking out of you. He fists his cock and slides right in, careful not to stir you. He holds his breath and starts to go, wetting the you and the bed. He passes out in a puddle of his own piss before you can really discipline him. 

He finds you without fail, whether you’re in the same house or 5 miles apart. When he needs to go, he gets hard too, and he knows only Mommy can handle that for him.

Pushes you against a wall and grinds his length against your ass. “Mommy,” he hums with a grin. “I need to go, please.”

It’s not really an ask, as he strips your pants down and pushes aside your panties, rolling his bulbous tip against your slit. He doesn’t wait for a reply. Poor thing, probably holding it in all day and doing a little funny dance as he rushed his way to find you and give you his juices.

“Have a big potty for ya today. Almost burst my juice everywhere. Got to ya just in time…”

He pushes in one go, his voice stuttering with a lazy grin. Not even a thrust later and he moaning in content as he pisses inside your hot pussy with even hotter urine. It rapidly spills and trickles down your thighs. Luckily from experience, you had known to discard and kick your pants away when he does this, so the yellow puddle of his liquid forms on the pavement below. 

He grips your hips with both meaty paws, grinding his front into your ass as closely as possible. It feels best when his tip can brush along your cervix before spurting out the last of his potty. 

“Joel Miller, you have made a mess of me,” you say, shaking your head with a slight smirk.

Rather than feeling any remorse, he returns your grin with an even bigger one of his own, slowly sliding down to his knees while maintaining eyes with you.

He swallows just as you lean back and spread your legs, fingers parting your folds to reveal the shiny translucent drips of his piss still wetting your cunt and down your inner legs. 

“Clean me spotless, and I’ll let you piss in Mommy’s ass, and I’ll plug it all day so I keep your love warm for the next time you have to go.” 

You never need to ask twice. His tongue is already lapping at your knees, between your thighs and up to your succulent, swollen, precious, pretty pussy. Sucking the little dribble on your clit. Straightening his tongue to dive deep into your entrance before flattening it, stretching your wall and making a slide so his pee and your juices can slide right into his mouth.

He smiles like a stupid, drunk, fantastic boy.

He can’t wait to put his piss in your ass next. 

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @peekyourinterest

[aklaustaleteller]

Not For A Long Time

Klaus returns back to his lover omega's cottage after a long time, and he wants nothing more than to just mark her as his, all over again. But all Y/n seems to want, is to eat her dinner and get on his nerves, ...and to absentmindedly rub herself all over him.

Warnings - allusions of smut, and Alpha/Omega dynamic.

Word Count - 1.3k

This is something I found in my drafts and well, let's just say I wanted to get it out of there. It's quite aimless and silly, and doesn't have my best writing skills used, but I still hope you enjoy reading hahah <3 (I lowkey enjoyed writing this type of fic though, so do let me know if I should write more stuff like this!!)

A candle flickered in the middle of the kitchen island, its crackling being the only sound other than one of the running water in the sink.

The fridge was, quite carelessly, left open ajar as Y/n kept herself busy on the other end, washing the rice before she could cook it. She hummed a very gentle tune, or it could be a rock song that her soft voice just happened to make sound similar to a lullaby.

It was as she was taking out a casserole from the fridge that she felt the night wind come in with a rather strong force, freeing some of her loose hair strands from where they were tucked behind her ear.

"Klaus, how lovely it is to see you," she smiled, closing the fridge and lifting her gaze from the stove to settle it onto the charming intruder.

"Hello, love," he pursed his lips before a smirk dug out one of his dimples. "It's been quite a long time," he continued, strolling closer to her.

Shaking her head, she turned away from him to focus on the task at hand. "A week is not a long time, Klaus," she said with a chuckle.

"Not even when it's your lover Alpha that's been gone?" He asked as a whisper in her ear, resting his chin on her shoulder while snaking his arms around his waist from behind.

"I'm afraid I cannot give you the answer to that in just words," she answered, her voice having gone quieter along with his, and turned her face to press a peck on the corner of his mouth, doing it again when a smile stretched out on his lips.

He sighed then, letting his eyes fall shut as he breathed in her scent. The smell of old books, soil after it's just rained along with some hint of a rose and finally, her blood, knocked his senses out for a couple seconds.

It reminded him of the first time he had caught the whiff of her scent from a couple miles away, the full moon shining down on him and making his night-sky fur look silkier than it was. Taking advantage of being in his wolf form, he’d chased down the scent and ended up coming to a halt in front of a front garden lit up with warm lights coming from inside the cottage.

He'd seen a couple fireflies near the ivy that crept all over the walls from outside, making the building look rather earthly and older than the time itself. The noise of plates and bowls clattering didn't go amiss by Klaus, making him near the noise with deliberate steps.

Saliva coated his tongue as he finally stood just below the window, keeping himself hidden as his eyes peered inside to see a woman stirring something in a pot, sputters of laughter falling from her soft mouth as an energized dog skittered around her feet, clawing at her skirt to reach the treat she held up high in her free hand.

His lips had pulled back in a smile then, eyes unable to move on from her.

He'd returned every night since then, catching her attention on a particular one when she'd been out by the lake, crying in her knees and that was when Klaus had realised that the woman, he'd secretly been going mad after, was an Omega, left all alone when she should've been in an Alpha's arms, being taken care of in all shape and form.

And so, very calmly he'd approached her and when she'd realised that he was an Alpha wolf, she lost even that slight control over her emotions and clutched his fur as she cried into his neck, stutters and hiccups escaping her mouth until she'd calmed down and passed out, tired, in his presence.

That was the day he'd swore to himself that he wasn't going to let her end up hurt ever again. And as he took her home in his arms, silently hoping that she wouldn't wake up to catch him naked, he'd laid her in her bed when she allowed him to enter his home in a sleepy haze.

"Stay, Alpha?" she'd asked, her eyes moistening all over again and Klaus had not the heart to leave her be, causing him to lie down beside her and hold her in his arms as she purred and slept the night away, his body merely covered by her sheets.

Since that night, he'd learned that she'd been crying that day because her puppy-dog had been adopted by someone in the town who had also adopted his siblings. He would be happier with them, she'd sobbed into his arms while telling him, trying to reassure herself over Klaus.

And also, the fact that she was, indeed, an Omega yet to be claimed by an Alpha. She'd yet to give herself to him completely, to surrender herself to be his to love and care for. But Klaus understood that, accepted her past traumas and allowed her time to open up to him day by day.

"I was just preparing dinner. Care to join this lonely Omega, Alpha?" She asked, giving him her full attention after finally placing the food on the stove.

Looking at him doe eyed as he cupped her cheeks and pressed a kiss on her mouth, she whimpered when a growl rumbled deep in his chest, meant to be heard just by her.

"Of course," he accepted gently, backing her up until she was sat on the kitchen island.

She motioned for him to wait, and Klaus looked at her confusedly before he saw her blow out the candle behind her. A chuckle came from him, finding the action cute.

Y/n faced him again with a sloppy smile on her face, letting him press kisses on her mouth over and over again until he had her laughing and pulling away from him. He chased after her nonetheless -- pressing his mouth to her forehead, cheeks, nose, chin and continued to pepper kisses down her jaw.

And it was when he reached her collarbone that he truly began marking her. He left a trail of love bites behind as he scattered his kisses all over the exposed skin. Her little whimpers and moans only made him hungrier for her, making him pull her hair back, giving him more skin to mark up.

"Klaus --" she began but he cut her off with a hiss.

"Now, darling," he breathed warningly against her skin. "It’s Alpha," he corrected her.

"Pl-please, Alpha," Y/n purred, beginning to feel sensitive. "Need to turn off the stove, please," she begged him to let her get away, and Klaus did.

Lifting her off the counter, he let her wrap her legs around his waist as he walked over and turned off the stove and moved on to speed up the stairs.

He laid her on the fluffy bed that reeked of her scent but before he could lie down over her and rid her of the clothes that got in the way of his mouth and her skin, she was out of the bed and running away from him, spurts of laughter falling from her lips.

His eyes flashed golden just for a second before he was chasing after her, finding the situation rather amusing.

"I'm hungry, Alpha. Won't you eat with me?" She said out of breath when he caught up to her, snatching her from behind and into his chest.

And her giggles stopped altogether when she heard him growl, this time louder to warn her against disobeying him as she realised that she’d begun getting on his nerves now.

"Please Alpha?" She mewled for him, getting him with those eyes all over again as he accepted her pleas and took her over to the dining table, bringing her the dinner and feeding it to her whilst she sat in his lap, talking about all the happenings that she came across while he was gone, not for a long time, clearly, as she couldn’t stop absentmindedly rubbing herself all over him.

[floylia]

ELYSIAN ♫

22. Thriving, like always ✎

“Write your name.”

Scara looks at you with a bewildered expression, brows raised, but he does what he’s told. He grabs your small pocket knife and carves his name, Kuni, next to yours. He admires his handwriting before looking back at you, “This is vandalism.”

“When did you start being obedient?” You ask while writing a large heart around your names, before pulling out a camera to take a picture of the willow tree, “Besides, lots of other couples do this. Have you looked around the forest?”

Scara rolls his eyes and crosses his arms–a playful smile on his face, “I thought I was your best friend.”

“You agreed with it!”

“You took it way too far,” He looks away, sounding hurt. You almost feel bad, until a small smirk appears on his face.

Liar. He should consider acting full-time.

You play along anyway, “Then how should I make it up to you?”

“Walk with me.”

That’s simple enough. Suspiciously simple.

“Are you plotting something?” You ask, “You’re not that petty, right?”

He doesn’t respond, but offers his hand, waiting for you to hold it, “Didn’t you want to make it up with me?”

You grabbed his hand and he kissed yours, leaving you flustered.

“Grant me a promise,” His tone is serious but gaze soft.

You nod.

“Promise me you won’t listen to what people say. That you won’t waste your energy on Inez–I’ll worry about that. I want you to focus on yourself, including your happiness. That no matter what happens you’ll live a fulfilled life.

“That’s a lot to ask.”

“Do you promise?”

“If you stay by my side forever.:

He chuckles, “As if I’ll ever leave you.”

“Then your wish is granted.”

Notes:

i accidentally deleted the first draft of this, so i had to redo everything

Synopsis: After 7 years of enduring the media’s relentless pursuit of painting you as a villain, you’re forced to go on an indefinite hiatus with a tainted reputation on your head. However, just when you thought your career was over, a certain 5WIRL member wants you to feature on his solo album. Surely, this won’t affect your reputation once more, would it?

Scaramouche x fem!reader

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[90sbee]

Sometimes a saviour is a soldier afraid of peace

Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader

4.4k words. Also on ao3.

He looks at her in quiet admiration.

He doesn’t deserve her. But again, he doesn’t really deserve anything. He already has gotten too much: spoiled by the sweet possibility of life when all his comrades have fallen, their bodies twisted, mangled by titans and enemies alike.

Levi hardly cries, but he wants to cry in that moment. She turns on the stove for him, and rummages through his cabinets. She finds two cups and a sob is trapped inside his throat.

He doesn’t fucking understand why she stays, why she puts up with his sorry ass but, damn it. Damn it if he at least doesn’t try.

The war is over, but the demons still haunt Levi. Luckily for him, the last member of his Squad seems focused on remaining by his side as they both face this new enemy: peace.

This was !!! My first fic written in English, actually. Also my first (and only time so far) writing for aot. Levi is such an angsty angel, and this story wouldn’t leave my head, so I had to end up writing it, ofc. This has been in the drafts for... months. Too many months already. And tbh I'm not a fan of how it came out. But. Posting it in case someone else can enjoy Levi finally getting some love and comfort, sjsjs.

Content: Use of 3rd person pronouns. No use of y/n. Mostly Levi's pov. Reader was part of his Squad. Post!Rumbling Levi. Written with the manga ending in mind. A lot of fluff, rude Levi even if he doesn't mean it (but reader knows he means no harm). Healing. Spooning (Levi as the little spoon btw. He deserves it).

Warnings: depressive thoughts, self confidence issues. Mentions of past violence (but nothing gruesome, it's all in passing). SFW. No beta reader we die like everybody in Aot here.

They always meet. Every single day, she leaves her little flat to find him near the fountain in the Marleyan park, eager to push his wheelchair and pass some time with him.

Levi doesn’t understand. When Onyankopon, or Falco, or Gabi let her take the wheelchair, he just ponders. He could understand why they would accompany him: because he is old? because they feel pity of him?… But her?

Nonetheless, every single afternoon, she comes to him. He doesn’t recall when this custom began. It’s like slowly, but surely, she started digging a place into his routine. She was part of his remaining squad, and he really didn’t see any point to her bubbling-self still being by his side.

Still, he appreciates her visits. She exchanges pleasantries with Gabi, already smiling. Why is she smiling?

“Hi, Captain,” she says. Should he feel mocked? He isn’t a captain anymore and the title feels too much, even if it’s comforting in some way. Levi doesn’t reply. He just nods, silently acknowledging her presence. “Is it okay if we go to the stalls for a while, Captain?” She inquires, as if it was the first time they did it, and not a weekly occurrence. His jaw tenses. He doesn’t understand, still. She surely pities him. She has to.

He agrees to her proposal, though.

“Sure,” he replies, barely any emotion on his face.

She smiles at him. For a moment, they look at each other. She sees that familiar scarred face, a grey eye gazing into her soul. He sees the older face of her remaining squad member, some wrinkles next to her eyes, her figure dressed in green. For some reason, he liked that colour on her.

He doesn’t share that with her, though.

“Let’s get going,” she adds, a little chuckle in her voice — he can hear it — as she starts pushing the wheelchair. They check out the little shops that are already so familiar. Sometimes she signals a piece of jewellery or clothes. She asks for his opinion, or points at a silly artwork, in hopes of making him laugh.

When the cold starts to set in, she stops them in front of a coffee shop.

“Wait here a second, Captain,” she tells him.

“Where would I go, anyway?” He wants to say, snarky, but he doesn’t really bother in opening his mouth. He stays silent still, perking his head up to see what’s she’s doing.

“Oi. coffee?” He complains.

She directs her gaze to him and chuckles, paying the vendor.

“I know you like tea but it’s time to broaden your horizons,” she explains. She comes up to him again, and hands him one of the cups. He sighs, but accepts the drink still.

“What is it this time?”

“Just chocolate. Hot chocolate,” she answers, already sipping hers.  She lets out a content sigh when the warmth of it starts to fill her belly.

“I don’t like chocolate,” Levi mutters under his breath. He is lying and she knows it.

“Tsk. That’s not true. Everybody likes chocolate.”

“… Fine,” he sips his drink and, admittedly, enjoys it. She hands him her drink so she can push the wheelchair again, and he takes it, guarding both cups on his lap, a familiar action for the two of them now.

“Where do we go?” She asks.

Levi shrugs. “As if I had a choice.”

She looks at him still, and when he can see her, barely from his peripheral vision, he sees a softer face. She’s waiting for his reply. He looks at her, looks at her lips. She isn’t smiling anymore. Levi sighs, suddenly feeling guilty.

He doesn’t understand still why she does this for him.

“Captain?” She says, just above a whisper, since there are people around them and they both just want to have a calm evening, without the risk of being recognised.

Levi nods before he even opens his mouth.

“The bridge.”

“Good,” she agrees as he sips from his drink again, guided by her. He does feel warmer. Levi inspects the people around him in silence, letting himself be carried, taken to a nicer place. “Hange would have like this,” he thinks. He looks down to suddenly realise he is clenching his fist, hard. “If you could even call it a hand…”

“We’re here, Captain,” she announces, letting his wheelchair rest next to a bench, overlooking the water. She takes a seat next to him, and Levi hands her the drink. He wonders if she noticed how tense he’s been feeling today.

“Be quick with that, brat, or it will get cold,” he warns, as if to pre-emptively shut down any words from her. He’s not sure he could handle it.

She just nods.

“It’s still warm,” she mentions after a moment.

The sunset is taking its place on the sky, a beautiful palette of oranges and pinks against a very flat horizon. A reminder of what was once lost.

“Good,” he says.

Levi looks at her. She is still looking forward, features illuminated by the falling sun, breeze caressing her face. There is something in his heart that aches, but he doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t dare to. Levi is old, too old, and too broken. And she only pities him.

He coughs to catch her attention, though.

“Hmh, yeah?” She immediately says.

“I heard the Scouts were going back to Paradis tomorrow,” he begins, the question lingering in the air. The small group was leaving first time in the morning.

“Yep.”

Levi blinks, expecting her to say more, but she doesn’t. He doesn’t want to ask. It feels… too much. He feels too exposed doing that, lower lip trembling.

“Are you going?” He finally dares to ask.

She turns back to him again, and looks at him with the sweetest gaze. Levi doesn’t miss how she looks at his lips first.

“I’m not.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have anything there,” she replies, matter-of-factly. Levi wants to hit his head against something, still uncertain about what that means. Does that mean that she has something here? Someone?

She must notice his doubts, so she lowers her gaze. “I mean. You know I lost my family during my first years as a Scout. And knowing that we tried to stop Eren… All the military forces in the island won’t be very happy to see me. Or any of us. I’ve done my part. I do not want more fighting.”

“… Right”. That still doesn’t answer his question, but it is enough to satisfy his curiosity without seeming to eager. He sips his drink again: it’s getting colder.

“You didn’t want to go, Captain?” There it was again, that fucking title that felt like a joke. He chuckles, not looking at her anymore but rather at the sunset.

“Why do you still call me like that?” He spits back.

“Captain?”

“Yeah,” His tone is unintentionally rude, but he can’t help it, not even around her.

“Well… It’s a sign of respect, don’t you think?”

Levi chuckles, amused.

“I never took you for a polite person.” He doesn’t want to look at her still. She hasn’t added anything, said anything else. What is she thinking of?

She looks at him. There’s a warmth in her belly which has nothing to do with the chocolate anymore. She knows: Her Captain has been way more vulnerable and open since the Rumbling. The little gestures that he could so easily hide before are now an open book. Or at least she feels that way, since she was always one to look at him.

It was so easy to just… stare at him. Admire him in every sense of the word, even now. When they were both soldiers they would fight alongside each other, against innumerable dangers. He was barely visible in the spectrum: always so fast, always so precise. A ray of dark hair and strong limbs, destroying everything to provide peace, to provide protection.

There was no point in denying how she felt about him… Except, maybe, to him.

“I don’t think I would like going back to Paradis,” she finally adds, finishing her drink. He seems to reflect on that idea for a moment, before nodding. He wants to ask why but he doesn’t dare to. “I’m just… comfortable here,” she finishes with a sigh. “This is okay.”

“That’s good,” he says, barely a spark of enthusiasm in his voice, but enough for her to notice.

She looks up at him again. And he feels tiny and scared suddenly, because she looks at him with wonder and care. Levi doesn’t mean to, but he ends up letting his drink fall from his hands, whether due to his nervousness or the state of his hand after the war.

“Shit,” he spits, upset.

“Sh, it’s alright, Captain.” In a second she is picking up the cup, handing him a handkerchief to dry his hands. She walks a few steps to throw both cups into a trashcan and is again, by his side. Such a quick interaction so as to ease his shame, he could notice it. “Are you alright?”

Levi still doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why she still treats him with such respect, why she seems to care so much for him. But he wants to find out, somehow. He barely nods, but she notices it.

“Good,” she says, while taking the handkerchief back. She is about to put it into her bag again when she feels a hand grabbing hers.

Levi.

He doesn’t even say anything. He doesn’t know how. She seems to understand, though, squeezing his hand, softly. Levi quickly lets her hand go, his cheeks going red. She gets behind the wheelchair again, as the sun is about to disappear, and Levi can hear her chuckling.

“Let’s get you home, Captain.”

He stays quiet, unsure if he could even say something useful.

There’s so much he doesn’t know how to say. How to do.

While she is pushing his chair he notices it again. A slight tremor in her right hand. “My wrist seems to ache lately… Must be from holding the blades for so many years,” she had explained in passing a couple weeks ago. He realises that it’s probably taking a strain on her to push him every fucking day.

“Oi,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“Stop pushing me. I can handle it,” he explains, tone serious.

“Oh, no,” her hand is trembling still. “It’s fine, it’s no bother for me, Captain.”

“… It’s an order,” he commands after a moment. She stops in her tracks and he can hear a gentle laugh coming from behind him.

“It had been a while since that, huh.” Confidently, she places one of her hands on his shoulder, gently tapping it. Levi smiles. Barely curving his lips, but he does. He is about to be brave, hold her hand on his shoulder when she removes it from him. “Shit,” he thinks. “Too slow… Too slow? Slow for what? Tsk.”

Despite his missing fingers, he can still push his wheelchair quite properly. It also helps that he can see his street far ahead. She walks comfortably besides him, a silence and gentle ghost as his most devoted companion.

Yeah. There’s definitely something aching in his chest. He had been noticing the past days, feeling getting more painful as they both approach his place. And it has nothing to do with his faulty joints or damaged body or excessive age.

When they reach his door, she asks for his key. Levi gives it to her, his hand lingering for a second too long, reflecting on the brief touch of hands as she grabs it to unlock the door.

He is tired.

And he feels incredibly silly when he realises he doesn’t want her to leave.

“There we go, Captain. I help you in?” she suggests with a bright smile, opening the door.

“… Yes.”

She steps inside and pushes the chair into his living room, almost getting it next to his couch.

“That’s enough” he decides, in a semblance of independency he still wants to maintain.

She nods. “Okay… I guess… I’ll get going, Captain.”

Levi lifts up his gaze. He wants to ask… He wants to know… He savours her image for a moment, her tired expression and the way her dress now looks clumsy and wrinkled but he doesn’t care. Before, before everything had ended up like this he would remind every single cadet to iron their uniforms, all the outfits presentable, so as to look like respectable soldiers and honourable bodies if the occasion arose. Now she can have the privilege of looking messy. Of not worrying about death so often.

“No,” he mutters.

“Huh?” she inquires, taking a step forward.

“Shit,” Levi thinks. “I… I want tea,” he makes up a quick lie.

“Oh, sure. Yes, Captain.” She leaves her bag on the couch and goes into the kitchen, getting a kettle full of water.

He looks at her in quiet admiration.

He doesn’t deserve her. But again, he doesn’t really deserve anything. He already has gotten too much: spoiled by the sweet possibility of life when all his comrades have fallen, their bodies twisted, mangled by titans and enemies alike.

Levi hardly cries, but he wants to cry in that moment. She turns on the stove for him, and rummages through his cabinets. She finds two cups and a sob is trapped inside his throat.

He doesn’t fucking understand why she stays, why she puts up with his sorry ass but, damn it. Damn it if he at least doesn’t try.

He stands up. His body still holds that ability, though his legs get tired rather quickly. He can still walk, so he does until he reaches the kitchen. She is still deciding on the teas when she sees him.

“Oh, no, Captain, please, just don’t…”

He interrupts her, grabs her waist carelessly and pushes her towards the couch, barely moving her.

“Let me handle it myself.”

“Levi…” She whispers, their faces inches apart.

“Go. Sit,” he mumbles, biting his lips and sending his eyes lower, so as to avoid her face.

“Are you sure?” She inquires a moment after, still close to him. He notices she has a hand on his waist as well, a protective aid making sure he stays on two feet.

“Yes,” he says, more commanding this time. He grabs that hand of hers and pushes her away gently now.

She nods, understandingly.

“I’ll be in the living room,” she adds.

Levi nods at her, making sure she finally gets that ass of hers in the couch. He is now faced with his kitchen. Most of the cups and teas, everything has been moved lower, so as to accommodate to his wheelchair. Slowly, he kneels, searching for a specific flavour for her. When he finally finds the peppermint and rose one, he mentally cheers. He stands up again, slowly, as if to show confidence, making sure from his peripheral view that she isn’t coming to his aid.

She isn’t. He catches her averting her eyes, though. A confirmation that she has been staring.

He decides to stare as well. Supporting himself on his weakened legs, he waits for the kettle to boil, while looking at her. It’s as if she could notice that, because her head doesn’t move, still fixated on an indescriptible point in his living room.

“Oi, what you looking at?” He says, a bit more light-hearted.

A smile forms on her lips before she even turns her head towards him. She doesn’t answer. Just keeps smiling at him.

“Fuck,” he thinks when he realises he has also slightly curved his lips.

Quickly he turns towards the stove, the kettle already boiling. Levi carefully fills the cups with water, letting the leaves rest. He lifts his gaze up to her for a second but it is already enough for her to notice.

“Need help with the cups?” Her, always so worried, so in tune with his needs. No need for words.

“Of fucking course.”

Still, the only answer he gives her is a polite nod. She stands up, approaching him.

“I’ll handle it, Captain. Just take a seat.”

He lets out a sigh, taking himself to the couch and plopping himself there.

“It’s hard,” Levi thinks as he sees her come back to the living room, two cups in her hands. He accepts the drink, his gaze not leaving her features. “I… I can’t.”

He knows he can’t accept kindness: he doesn’t know how to. Still, he tenses his jaw and forces himself to sip the tea as she takes a seat next to him.

“Peppermint, huh?” She hums mostly to herself.

 “… Yeah,” comes out of his mouth, unsure, less braver than expected. Is he insecure? Has he made a mistake?

“Good choice” She declares and he breathes again, realising that he had been holding his breath. “Bet you already knew that, right?” She adds, cocking her head.

Levi looks at her again. He has been avoiding her eyes but he hadn’t been trained as a soldier to back down in times of peace.

“I did,” he says, his tone firm, a very weak attempt at showing confidence still. “It’s the one you would always ask for when we would have meetings with the Scouts.”

“It’s good tea.” Her tone seems softer now.

Levi hums, too deep inside his mind to notice it.

She wonders. Wonders if he has ever realized that the only reason she would wander through the headquarters late at night was just to be found and reprimanded by him, the way she would be easily entertained by Levi’s stern face. Wondered if Hange had ever told him about the time she had fallen asleep in their office and woke up, mumbling his name, much to Hange’s delight, though they had promised to keep it a secret.

He looks down at his legs, at his carpeted floor.

He wonders if she had ever noticed the way he would mindlessly lick his lips after looking at her, the boring uniform suddenly a beautiful outfit, making her stand out. Wonders if it was too late to tell her that, yes, after Hange and her had found him, and stitched him up, that he had heard every single word she had uttered near his heart, softly pressing her timid hands on his chest. There hadn’t been time then to discuss anything or even think if it had meant anything else than old scouts being protective of each other, but now…

They finish their teas in silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, rather the opposite, despite the fact that Levi has started nervously tapping his feet against the floor. It is dark outside already, the light from the lamps flowing into Levi’s house, a dog barking a few blocks away.

She stands up, makes sure to wash her cup in the sink and put it away before returning to him.

“Captain?” She mutters. No need for more words.

Levi hands her the cup with slow movements, as if trying to prolong that insignificant action for as long as possible. And when she is already about to head into the kitchen, little plate and teacup in her hand, he decides to be brave. No more lying to himself, no more being a coward. Too many people have died, have bleed, have sacrificed the little they had for a selected group of survivors to be able to live. To enjoy the remaining Earth. For the little ones that survived to be able to find some meaning. Something worth all the pain.

Basking in the fear serves no one. In fact, makes all the death meaningless.

So, Levi looks up at her and grabs her hand, even if he is scared still. Trembling fingers dancing on hers until they secure her hand softly in his. He feels warm even if he doesn’t know what to say, how to convey what he feels. Such a shadow of the man he was. So stupid now.

Levi just wants her to say.

She gasps at the contact but quickly composes herself. A shy smile showing up on her face. They stay like that for a moment, neither daring to break the silence.

“Levi?” She asks after a moment, moving closer to his face, as if asking for permission.

He can only look at her lips in reply.

She shortens the distance between them and kisses him on his lips. It isn’t a big kiss, too flashy or provocative: just a tender contact between two broken people. As soon as he has processed what was going on, she has already moved forward, pressing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

And then, even higher, another kiss on his forehead, her lips remaining close to his face. Levi can’t say anything. Barely reacting. But when she looks at his eyes, she is greeted by the sweet glimmer of tears in them.

Levi. Happy, at last.

And as if reading his mind, she utters: “Do you want me to stay, Levi?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

She complies. In the quiet, late hours of the night, Levi wakes up, his body feeling too rested already. It was a habit hard to break, he wouldn’t sleep much anyway. He sighs still, feeling her body pressing against his, holding him from behind. She has one hand on his shoulder, the other keeping him safe and secured, hugging his waist close. He dares to smile and grab that hand across his belly with both of his hands, so as to make sure that it is real: he is being held. There is someone else with him. Levi isn’t alone. Someone is taking care of him. Someone he’s been devoted to for so many years.

He wants to nuzzle up closer, hide in her chest or neck and feel more.

But he doesn’t dare to. He can’t allow himself to do that yet. 

So he stays awake in silence, hearing the soothing and steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

Levi still doesn’t understand, though.

He doesn’t want to think of why she has chosen him, how he got this privilege so late in his life, when all hope seems to be lost and the thought of a partner didn’t cross his mind at all. He also doesn’t know what to do with this gift, this blessing. Why? How? He is such a crippled shadow of what he used to be. Slow, so consumed by roughness and violence and so useless now.

He has always had something to fight for: his life, his friends, his Squad, Erwin, Hange. Yet since the Rumbling he has just… fallen behind. He is just existing and it seems like his body has finally caught up to his age: no longer agile and strong, but a weakened man, finally leaving the survival mode that has characterised every single aspect of his life. He doesn’t have any goals or dreams now. Everything had been slowly trampled down like the titans destroying all land and all life.

He shivers, remembering that day and holds her hand tighter.

Once he had completed the promise made to Erwin, his last order, he had nothing more. No more commands. No more slaying titans.

Just existing.

He doesn’t want that. He has been a fighter, a rebel, a monster his whole life. He only knew of endurance and compliance with the spirit of life, of resistance. He doesn’t know of anything else: the calmness, the quietness, the routine walks and just reading books and sitting on his porch… That is not him. That isn’t life. Being able to choose things for himself, devour life gently and enjoy it instead of painfully trying to keep it close, to grip it between calloused fingers… Peace isn’t familiar.

He has nothing to devote himself to, nothing to prove or fight for.

“Yeah,” he thinks. “Everything is… meaningless… Or it was.”

He closes his eyes, relinquishing himself in the warm body against his.

Some things… Some things have meaning still.

Her.

The way she would scrunch her nose when laughing or buy him drinks or attempt to make him laugh or wear that damn stupid wrinkled dress and — “Fuck. I know her so much by now…”

She had been a Scout too. She had fought and devoted her heart and did everything a Scout had to do. She had fulfilled her duty in the same way he did. She has survived and she doesn’t regret a single thing. Not even this life.

She is at peace.

He wants to sob.

He doesn’t understand peace. Sure, it was his goal, what he always dreamed of, but, damn it. Levi had never thought he would actually get to see something resembling it. Unlike her. She understood what it was: she has accepted peace with open arms and a smile that — fuck, somehow— has been shining on her face throughout the years. Despite so much pain and death…  She still allows herself to fucking live in peace. She forgave herself for the death, for the pain and crimes and let go.

He isn’t sure if he can do the same.

Peace is foreign, strange even. An oddity. And he isn’t stupid, he knows that time would run up someday and that things would turn against them for a second time.

But, still, the promise of the rest of his life in peace lingers.

He could have it.

He fucking could.

Levi reflects on those thoughts for a moment, silent still.

He thinks he can get to an agreement. Maybe, when she wakes up in the morning, he can try to spill his soul to her a little. Try to understand how she handles this life, how she can get up in the mornings after killing so much, and just have tea with him.

But for now, in the quietness of the night, as the old warrior he was, he does the only thing he knows: he promises to dedicate his heart once more.

He finally has a reason, a purpose, something worth protecting again.

Levi lifts his hand, crossing it on his chest the way all Scouts would do. But he doesn’t press it on his heart, but rather, moves it to hold her hand, the one resting on his shoulder. He squeezes it gently, suddenly feeling too overwhelmed by her. By the silent love she had been proclaiming to him all these years and that he couldn’t reciprocate before.

Yes. Now it is the time.

Levi would dedicate his heart once more.

To her and only her.

That may have been the cheesiest ending ever written but !!!! He deserves it, I know. Also someone stop me before I write for Hange, the feelings got to me indeed. Dividers by @/cafekitsune @/saradika and @/vase-of-lilies

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Good Father

Dad!Dean Winchester X Wife!Mom!Reader

Summary: Dean has a beautiful wife and the cutest little girl. The perfect family. Maybe it's time to have a real home, too.

Part 2 of A Good Man but can be read as a standalone. This is actually how supernatural ended thank you very much

Warnings: not much, candy cane fluff, foul language. Still minors dni cause I don't want minor on my blog

WC: 2.6k

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while. Why not post it right? I love Dean with all my heart. That's nothing new. Enjoy the teeth rooting fluff cause I don't have the mental capacity to write smut rn :,)

Sleep still covered your eyes as you rubbed them softly. It couldn't have been later than six a.m., or at least what you saw through half-closed eyes on your phone screen when you woke up. You weren't fully sure, you were still processing that you were awake. You hadn't entirely wanted to get out of bed, but the lack of your husband's warmth all but forced you out of the comfort of your covers. Your feet took you to the study first. That's normally where you would find the brothers anyway. But you only saw Sam.

"Morning." You mumbled softly, running a hand over your face as you walked over to the younger Winchester.

Sam lifted his eyes from the ancient looking book in front of him, and he gave you a warm smile.

"Oh, hey, good morning."

You stood beside him, leaning a hand on the table as you looked around for Dean with a small frown.

"Where's your brother?"

"In the kitchen with Rosie. She woke up like an hour ago, so he's making her breakfast." He answered with a smile.

Your own lips irked up in pleasant surprise. Normally, Rosalie— yours and Dean's little girl— would come running to wake you— or both you and Dean, depending who was home at the time. You never minded that she would be up before you since Sam was always up before sunrise, and he loved spending time with his niece. But it did surprise you a bit that Dean didn't wake you at all this morning. Though, you were more so in awe at the fact that he had decided to take care of her that morning by himself.

Truth was, he had been gone a while, almost a week. That had been the longest he had spent on a hunt ever since she was born— five years ago. And your little girl was definitely missing her dad. She loved you, no doubt about it, but the little one was a daddy's girl for sure, but you blamed Dean for spoiling her so much. So she was feeling his absence greatly. She cried almost every night, asking why daddy wasn't there to tuck her in. It broke your heart a hundred times over to see her so heartbroken. When Dean came home last night, she all but clung to him, refusing to leave his side. And you guessed that had carried over to this morning.

"Thanks, Sam." You patted his shoulder and padded through the long halls of the bunker to the kitchen. You held in your breath as you peaked your head through the door and you nearly teared up at the sight.

"You think mommy and Sammy will like these?" Dean pursed his lips, nudging at the tiny human resting on his hip as three different pans with pancake batter, sizzling bacon and scrambled eggs cooked on the stove.

"Uh-huh. It looks yummy." She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder as he held her.

"Yeah, sure does." Dean shrugged, lips pulled into a proud grin at his own work. He always was a great cook.

He stood for a second, keeping an eye on one thing as he moved around another with a spatula and still somehow held a five year-old on his hip. He had his attention somewhere else, so he almost missed the tiny voice in his ear.

"I missed you, daddy." Rosie mumbled, her soft voice almost inaudible against him. Dean looked down at her, his eyes slightly big and his lips parted. He stared at her for a long second before he said anything. He was wondering just what the fuck he ever did to deserve something like this.

"I… I missed you too, baby. Always." He sighed out, his chest aching with an indescriptible feeling as he brushed some loose strands behind her ear, and he pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

You were silent for a long minute, lips slightly parted and eyes filled with awe as you leaned against the doorframe to watch the sight in front of you. Dean, still in his pajamas, with his little girl on his hip as he cooked. He was saying something to her, or so you figured since you heard her giggles, her tiny hands bunched around his t-shirt as she buried her face in his shoulder. He was smiling too.

"I'm deeply hurt. Making breakfast without me?" You spoke up, feigning hurt.

Dean turned around, he smiled at you at first but when Rosie started giggling at you, hiding deeper into his chest, he gritted his teeth.

"Ah, busted. Told you mommy would find out." He shook his head, holding back a smile as you approached them.

You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. He gave you a shrug with a toothy smile that showed the edges of his canines, and he gave you that innocent puppy dog look. You groaned out.

"We'll talk later." You warned, but your tone was playful. You finally slipped a smile as you stood on the tip of your toes to give Dean a kiss on the lips. He happily leaned down to meet you halfway. And then you kissed your little girl, leaving kisses all over her tiny face.

She giggled, nearly jumping out of her dad's arms into yours. Dean happily passed her over to you, his hip starting to get numb. You held her happily, pressing a kiss to the mess of her bedhead. God, the more this one grew, the more she looked like Dean. The same green eyes, the same freckled cheeks. But she had your nose, and her hair was a shade darker than Dean's, closer to Sam's brown. But you knew that she would be the spitting image of her dad when she grew older.

"Did you help daddy make breakfast?" You asked Rosie, and she nodded excitedly.

"Yeah! I helps daddy make pancakes." You gasped, lips parted to share her excitement.

"Those are gonna be the yummiest of pancakes, right sweetheart?" Dean leaned down, nudging her cheek with his finger. She nodded.

"Alright, little one, go sit with Sammy, we'll bring you out some pancakes, okay?" You told the little girl, and she nodded again, mumbling an 'okay'. You smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before you set her down her tiny feet. She had spent her whole short life in this bunker. You were sure she could find her way around the general area.

"Tell Sammy he's a nerd for me." Dean called out to Rosie as she ran off, chanting that her uncle Sammy was a nerd. Dean was smiling proudly to himself. He was raising her right.

"You're an ass." You playfully scolded him, and he gave you a look of feign innocence. He shrugged at you.

"I ever tell you how beautiful you look in the morning?" He irked his lips at you, resting his hands on your hips as he pulled you close. God he had missed you so fucking much.

"Missed you, too, hun." You leaned up on your toes, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He tried to hide it, muffle the sound, but he winced when your hand touched his cheek.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you immediately pulled back to look at his face. You hadn't noticed the red bruise on his cheek, on the purple bruising around his eye. You gasped quietly, gently brushing the tip of your fingers over the bruised skin. He scrunched up his face at you, about to pull back, but you shot him a sharp look.

"I'm fine, baby. Just some bruises. You shoulda seen the other guy." He grinned, trying to humor you, but the concern didn't leave your face.

"I don't want to, actually." You sighed softly, your eyes falling to his chest, avoiding his eyes.

You wouldn't say it to his face, not actually. How could you? He never lied to you, from the moment he wanted something real with you he told you the truth. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into with him. Sammy and hunting come with the package— he told you. And you accepted it. All of it. You married him anyway. You gave him a daughter anyway. But God, it terrified you beyond words that he was still hunting. That he still left you and your little girl for days at a time. And that he would come home with new scars and bruises that would last days. But at times— like this one— you feared that neither of them would come home at all.

"Sweetheart…" There was a bit of warning in his voice. He could read you so easily. He grabbed your face, forcing your head up to look at him now. "What is it?"

"You worry me, Dean. Look at your face. I don't even want to know how it looks under your shirt." Your eyes fell to the side, and your chest filled with ache as you tried to say the right words. "I'm sorry, I know I have no right to guilt trip you. But your daughter missed you, I missed you, and we need you, Dean, that's all."

Dean said nothing at this, his face stayed unreadable as he listened to you. And he heard you, he heard you loud and clear. He felt pressure on his chest and a sick feeling to his stomach. Fuck, he had grown soft.

"C'mere." He pulled you to his chest. He rested his hand on your hair, and he sighed softly when you threw your arms around his torso. "You know I love you, and Rosie, so much, right?"

You nodded against his chest. "I know babe, I love you, too."

We need you, Dean.

"Daddy! I told uncle Sammy he's a— a nerd!" Rosie announced loudly when she saw you and Dean again. And you had to hide your smile at the pointed look Sam shot his older brother.

Dean played dumb, his lips falling open, and he clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm telling ya, Sammy, I dunno where she learns it from."

"Yeah, great parenting dude." Sam rolled his eyes at Dean, and he could only snort in response.

"Yeah, well, here's my apology." Dean shrugged, setting down a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Sam with a shit eating smile. Sam pretended to be offended, but he ate the plate in front of him without protesting.

"Alright, Rosie, you wanna eat some pancakes before school?" You set the plate with the smaller portion of pancakes and bacon in front of her and she nodded happily.

"Yes, please!" She excitedly grabbed a fork and dug in, but stopped a second later and looked at Dean. "Daddy can I has syrup?"

"Sure, baby." He practically saturated her plate with syrup and then his own. You shook your head at how alike they were already. You shared a knowing look with Sam and sighed softly, eating from your own plate.

You didn't often have the chance to have breakfast as a family, so you always treasured little moments like this when you had them. And deep in your heart, you wished you had moments like this more.

~~~~~~

"Sweetheart, you in here?" Dean peeked his head into your shared bedroom, his eyes darting around for a few seconds, and then his lips curved up at the sight of you on your shared bed, face deep in your laptop.

"Hi love," You smiled at him, setting your laptop aside to greet him. He happily joined your side, his lips pressing a kiss to yours instantly. "You left Rosie at school, right?"

Your words were stern as was the look you gave him. He pulled back and pouted. You were definitely scolding him for the time he decided to take Rosalie on a drive with Baby just because she asked instead of dropping her off at school.

"'Course I did. No rides in Baby this time, I promise." He smiled at you, and you rolled your eyes.

"Hope so." He saw you reach for your laptop again so he decided to speak again.

Dean thought about it. He thought about it all morning. He drove around town for another hour just to get his thoughts straight.

"Listen, I was thinkin' 'bout what you said this morning.."

You shook your head at him, "I'm sorry, Dean, I know I shouldn't have. Let's just forget about it, yeah?"

"Hey, no, don't do that. Let's not forget about it." You frowned at him, but you didn't respond, so he kept talking. "You're right. I know you are. Hell, I got thrown around so hard, I don't know how I got outta bed this morning. I thought about you, thought about Rosie. Thought about my old man, too."

You frowned softly, resting your hand on the back of his neck, fingers threading through the short hair gently, "Dean.."

"I don't want to be like my old man. I don't want to leave you and Rosie alone anymore, I just can't."

You straightened up, a bit unsure where he was getting at.

"Dean, baby, what are you trying to say?"

"You and Rosie deserve a normal life, a house, all of that shit." Dean breathed out the words, and he held your face in his hands, a tiny smile on his lips. "I want to try it. A normal life. Don't you?"

"I… Dean.." You sighed out softly, attempting to process his words. You stared at him long and hard, and all you saw was love, his green eyes were sincere. "I wouldn't force you to give up hunting. I mean, that's all you've known? And what about Sam? I just—"

"That's exactly it. I'm… I'm so goddamn tired of the life. Don't get me wrong, we save people, hell, we've saved the world, but is that really all worth it if I can't come home to my wife and daughter?" He tilted his head, his free hand was on your thigh, and he squeezed softly. "And Sammy, I know he's tired of it too. He's always wanted a normal life. But he stayed because of me. If I get out, I know he'll do it, too. He's done it before. Who knows, maybe he can find his own pretty girl to marry and have a couple of kids with."

For the longest time, Dean had refused to even consider doing anything else with his life, doing anything better. This was all he had ever known, all he was ever actually good at, right? But lately, God, just lately, he was seeing that light at the end of the tunnel. You and Rosalie were right there. And if you were there with him, the rest of the world could go to hell for all he cared.

"Dean, I love you, I loved you then, hunter and all, and I will love you no matter what. But if you want to settle down.." You breathed out a soft laugh, the words sounding so nice when you said them out loud. You leaned closer to him, a smile on your lips as you pressed your forehead against his. "We'll settle down. A house, normal jobs, play dates, all of it."

"Christ, what did I ever do to deserve you in my life?" He smiled wide, and he pressed a hard kiss to your lips. It was warm, loving.

"Mhmm, so, what would a former hunter do for a living?"

"I'm pretty good with cars aren't I? What do you say? Think I should open my own car shop?"

Your husband as a mechanic? That wouldn't be half bad.

[nickfowlerrr]

always.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: angst (with a happy ending bc duh, it’s me). fluff. uh i think that’s all but if something important needs to be mentioned here, pls lmk!

words: 3.5k

notes: REPOST. this was not at all what i intended to write when i first got my aesthetic photo inspo but here we are lol. this is my fic submission for @pupandkisasaesthetics’ challenge and i hope you enjoy it. and a special thank you to @fandoms-writings for reading over the first draft of this for me and helping me out! i appreciate you so much, remi!! 🥰

thank you in advance for reading and as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated! please let me know what you think. 🖤

The floorboards creak under your feet with every step you take. Your eyes are red and your cheeks puffy. You ran out of tears a while ago. Your head throbs still, the headache lingering from the stress, and as you catch a glance of yourself in the mirror hung on the wall of the safe house, you know you look as dead as you feel.

You’re numb and yet your insides are aching, screaming at you.

That wasn’t it. He isn’t gone. It isn’t over.

It can’t be over.

As you pace the empty living room, back and forth, nonstop as you had been since you got back to the safehouse hours ago, the only thing you can do is torture yourself by replaying in your mind each and every step you took and every single word that left your mouth leading up to the explosion.

The explosion.

The deafening boom.

The ringing in your ears.

The shaking of the ground beneath you and of the walls around you.

The gripping fear when you realized where the bomb emanated from.

The neverending silence over static as you tried uselessly to get through to him.

The strong grip on your arm that pulled you from your stupor, that same strong hold that kept you from heading straight to where he was.

Your throat was sore from your yelling. From the cries you couldn’t hold back as you found yourself being urged into the jeep as they started back to safety. Just leaving him.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the window as you raged.

But you couldn’t focus on the cruelty of the words you threw at the team, your supposed family, in your attempt to get them to stop. To do their jobs. To save him.

No.

Instead, the loop started right back over.

Walking into the base with Yelena at your side, Bucky in your ear with Sam on his six on the opposite end of the site.

It wasn’t meant to be dangerous. Not more than the usual. Just a simple search and clear of the abandoned base. You’d all done this a hundred times over.

You’d meet in the middle and give the go ahead when you were done.

But that didn’t happen.

You were smirking as you heard Bucky and Sam’s never ending back and forths over the comms as you and Yelena cleared out the east wing of the site.

“East wing clear, heading south. You two plan on doing your job or should we take out the west wing for you, too?” you joked lightly as you made your way down the long winding hall.

“Ya know I’d feel a lot better having you on my six than this stupid fucking robotic bird flying around my head,” Bucky groused.

“Yeah,” you laughed as your eyes scanned yet another empty old computer room, “well give me a minute and I’ll be right there to save you,” you simpered playfully.

“West wing clear and secured, heading south now. Think I’ll get to you first, but I-”

His voice was cut off simultaneously by the static and the boom of the unexpected explosion going off. You and Yelena both ducked, protecting your heads as the ground shook and a wave of vibrations from the blast moved around you. You popped your ear as you tried to orient yourself through the ringing, slowly standing after everything else went still. Your breaths heavy as confusion clouded you both. You checked each other, ensuring you were both alright before your heart skipped a beat. Yelena was talking on her comms with Steve as you were pressing on your own, you tried to communicate with Bucky despite the static still ringing over..

“Buck, you okay?”

Nothing.

“Bucky?” you asked again, growing more frantic internally though you tried to remain as collected as you could.

Still no response.

Your eyes shot to the hall across from you leading to the west wing. To where the explosion came from. To Bucky. You were frozen still.

You pressed on the comms, over and over, trying desperately to get through to him.

“Bucky?”

Silence.

“Buck, can you hear me?... Bucky? James?!” your voice only grew louder and more harsh the longer the silence stretched on. It was like you were stone, you couldn’t manage to move, couldn’t do anything other than try to call him. You hadn’t noticed when Steve and the others came in until Steve took hold of your arm, his touch pulling you from your spot.

You looked to him, eyes wide and blown, feeling like you’d just been kicked back into your physical body.

“What are we doing?” you asked harshly. “What am I doing?” you said, frenzied before you turned and tried to make a move down the hall no one else seemed to be heading toward. His hold on you tightened, keeping you from going, stopping you easily.

“You need to go, we have to get you guys out of here,” Steve said sternly, concern swimming in his gaze despite his levelheaded presence.

“Are you- are you fucking kidding me?” you struggled in his hold. “Bucky is over there, what the fuck are we doing?! Let go of me! I know you have no problem leaving the people you claim to love to suffer and figure it out for themselves, but I can’t do that,” you seethed. “I’m not leaving him, get the fuck off, someone needs to go get him!

“And you and that stupid fucking camera, letting him go in by himself,” you turned on Sam, “where the fuck were you?”

You didn’t realize how much you were struggling to breathe as you fought against your friends to get past them, you didn’t realize how easily you were unraveling as you spiraled quicker and quicker the more time stretched on. It hadn’t been more than a minute or two but it felt like an eternity.

“He’s not answering, okay, he’s not answering so someone needs to go find him. We need to get him! Why are we just standing here! He could be hurt, or trapped, or - fuck!”

“I know. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving. But you are. You and you,” he eyed Yelena, “you two need to go. Bishop and Torres are at the first jeep - you guys need to clear the area. The less of us around to get hurt the better and there’s not much you can do.

But I promise you, I’m not leaving him. Okay? I swear,” Steve said as he stared into your welling eyes.

“You’re the last person I’d trust to keep a promise,” you bite harshly before being pulled away by Yelena. You didn’t fight her, though. A part of you knew Steve was right. There wasn’t much you could really do and the more people there were the more likely someone else would end up hurt, too.

Even still, when you got to the jeep, you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to make a break for the west end of the site. How could you possibly live with yourself if you didn’t even try to go in and help him?

Your attempt was futile, though, and soon you were sobbing into your hands as Joaquin drove you all back to the safe house.

As you stood there now, still pacing aimlessly, guilt washed over you. You could clearly recall the subtle recoil from Steve, the pain and regret in his eyes, at your words.

You knew he’d never forgiven himself for leaving Bucky, you knew a part of him could never, and you knew it was a low blow to bring up, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to care in the moment. You wanted him to remember. You needed him to. Because he couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t just leave him there to.. No. He wasn’t.

That wasn’t even a possibility.

He couldn’t be.

He wasn’t.

You kept repeating it over and over again in your head as your eyes threatened to well anew.

He wasn’t.

He couldn’t be.

—

It was past midnight when you had finally taken a seat on the lumpy sofa.

Kate’s earlier attempts at getting you to sleep were useless and only ended with you growling at her to leave you alone.

She, of course, ignored your snarling and stayed on the couch, just watching you. Her sympathetic gaze was as irking as it was easing.

She didn’t really say much, knowing not to push you, but just her being there had you feeling less like you were drowning. She grounded you a bit.

But she couldn’t take the fear away.

You felt her shuffle closer to you when you finally sat down but didn’t turn until her arms were around you, pulling you in.

You let out a broken breath as you turned into her and returned her hug.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she murmured as she hugged you tighter. “He’s a supersoldier. And he has a vibranium arm. Odds are definitely in his favor,” she tried to lighten the mood.

When you didn’t respond, she pulled away slightly.

“Seriously,” she said as you pulled away from her, looking her in the eye, “we were watching surveillance while you guys were inside. Redwing, we think, set off whatever motion detector was set. He was a bit ahead of Bucky, so we know he wasn’t that close to the blast. The feed cut out, obviously, but.. I don’t know, I thought that’d maybe..help you.. feel better? I just-”

“No, I appreciate knowing that. Thank you. But honestly, I don’t think anything’s gonna help until I know for sure. Until he’s back here.”

The front door creeping open had both of you standing and turning at attention. You could almost feel your heart in your throat as your breathing stalled.

It was a perilous few seconds of nothing before Sam stepped inside.

He looked exhausted and worn and.. Solemn.

“Sam,” Kate edged gently.

There was a pit in your stomach as he looked between you and Kate for a moment before his gaze dropped and he shook his head.

A stunted gasp left Kate’s lips as your heart stuttered, eyes wide, your stomach dropping before the door was shoved open even more.

“Please, don’t get him started on that stupid bird again, for the love of god,” Bucky huffed as he walked in, trying to hide a slight limp before a smirk graced his face as he met your eye.

Everything seemed frozen in the moment you registered his voice and when your eyes met his you honestly thought for a second you were dreaming.

He was leaning against the open door, a relaxed smirk on his lips before he nodded to you, “What happened to you coming to save me, huh?”

You didn’t even register yourself moving until you crashed right into him, almost toppling Bucky over as you did. Your eyes were bleary with tears of relief as you sighed heavily, shakily in disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed as you crushed yourself to him even further, his solid arms holding you right back as you felt him press a kiss to your head.

“I was kidding, sweetheart. Don’t say you’re sorry,” he chided.

You pulled away from him, taking his face in your hands.

“You’re okay?” you asked.

“Always,” he answered, leaning closer to kiss you softly.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Steve challenged as he came in behind Bucky. “But give it a few days, I’m sure you’ll be good as new.”

You swallowed thickly as you looked at Steve, shame again coming over you, even more now as Bucky’s arms were around you.

You looked away, taking a steadying breath as you took Bucky’s hands in yours.

“You should sit,” you said as he let you lead him away from the door, allowing Steve to close it. “Or shower, maybe?”

“You gonna join me?” he asked, his flirtatious nature never faltering.

“Have some decorum, some of us are in mourning, jackass,” Sam gruffed as he walked through the living room.

“Oh, Sam,” you called, stopping him. You walked up to him, as sincerely as you could, “I’m sorry,” you offered gently before punching him as hard as you could manage in his arm.

“Hey, what the hell?” he said incredulously as he held his arm.

“You deserved that one,” Kate said as she came to stand next to him. “I really thought Bucky bit the big one for a second,” she chuckled, “I am sorry about Redwing, though.”

“Why are you sorry for a robotic bird, I’m the one who almost got blown up,” Bucky interjected.

“Almost being the operative word there. Redwing, on the other hand, did get blown up.”

“I’m not doing this with you again,” Bucky groused, walking past the living room to the bathroom on the other side of the stairs. “I am gonna shower, sweetheart. Would you grab my bag from upstairs?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll bring it to you in a minute.”

You watched Sam and Kate go upstairs but you were too caught up in your own mind to really pay attention to their conversation. You saw Steve about to make a move to follow them, looking tired and ragged himself.

You followed him, pulling his hand before he could make it up the steps.

“Hey,” you started. “Can we talk?”

He looked a little nervous, unsure, but nodded anyway.

“Sure,” he said, turning around to follow you.

You walked into the living room that was now empty before you turned to meet Steve’s eye.

“I am so sorry,” you apologized, voice thin as you tried to keep your emotions in check. “I don’t know why I- it doesn’t matter, you didn’t deserve that. It was uncalled for. And not true. And I am so, so sorry, Steve.”

“Tensions were high, it’s okay-”

“No, it’s not. It’s not okay. You’re his best friend, you would do anything for him. You love him. I know that, we all know that, and I never should have.. You did everything you could have,-”

“I didn’t—.”

“You did,” you insisted. “You did. And you and I both know he definitely wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you. You’ve put your life on the line for him countless times, and even if you do hold yourself accountable for the train - which you shouldn’t - your slate would’ve been wiped clean about six life saves ago,” you smiled lightly, earning a small smile from him in turn.

“He’d do the same for me. He has done the same for me,” he laughed softly. “‘M just glad he’s alright.”

“Yeah. Thank you. For getting him out. For being there for him. I went a little crazy when I thought he was hurt,” you looked down, ashamed at yourself.

“I can’t blame you. Been there before. But he’s okay. You’re okay. I’m okay. We’re all okay.”

You nodded, meeting his eye once more before you hugged him tightly, his own arms coming around you to return the affection.

“He’s more banged up than he’s letting on,” Steve said as he pulled away, “you should check on him. I’ll throw your bags down, you guys can take the room down here.”

“Thank you, Steve. Really,”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled before heading back for the stairs.

As you made your way to the bathroom Bucky was occupying, you heard a low grunt followed by a hiss of pain. Knocking lightly, you gave him a second before you let yourself in.

The deep purple bruises that littered his torso had you grimacing for him sympathetically.

“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart, you know they’ll be gone this time tomorrow.”

“That’s not the point,” you argued, stepping in further, shutting the door behind you.

You walked up to him, lightly running your hand down his torso while pouting mindlessly.

His thumb found your lip as he pulled it down, getting your attention. “I’m fine,” he assured you.

“You could’ve gotten really hurt, Bucky. You could’ve died.”

“But I didn’t. I’m right here. Right where I want to be,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.

You let your head rest against his chest as he held you, your arms finding their way around him.

“I was so scared,” you whispered pathetically, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt that kind of fear before. I hated it.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured into your hair. You shook your head, brushing off his needless apology before you took a heavy breath.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” you confessed.

“You’re not ever gonna lose me, sweetheart. I’ll always find my way back to you,” he said softly, still holding you against him, “Always.”

A part of you wanted to argue the inevitable. One day, hopefully not one so soon, one of you would lose the other. That was life, wasn’t it?

But you couldn’t bring yourself to challenge him. It was nicer to believe that he was right. He’d always find his way back to you, and you would always find your way back to him.

Always.

You reached your hands up to gently rake your fingers through his hair. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Never been better,” he simpered easily, enjoying the feeling of your affectionate touch.

You dropped your hands to his shoulders before sliding them down his solid chest, your fingers soothing comfortingly along his skin.

“The truth?” you prodded quietly, flitting your gaze up to meet his brilliant blue eyes in a request for his honesty.

He was quiet for a second before he took a heavy breath, his hands finding and holding yours before he lifted one to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your hand. “The truth is, I’m gonna be okay,” he responded in earnest.

You allow your hand to cradle his stubbled cheek as you keep his loving gaze, finding comfort in the warmth of his eyes.

“Should we talk about it?” you ask, a little hesitant to bring it up, not wanting to let show how unnerved you were still feeling. And it wasn’t that you didn’t trust him when he said he was alright, but still you wanted to know exactly what happened, you wanted to know what he was going through back there. And selfishly, you knew you needed to know everything before you’d start feeling any kind of alright, either.

Bucky’s gaze softened even more at your question. Sam and Steve had told him you were worried, but he hadn’t realized how upset you really were while they were back there. Aside from being banged up by the blast and being trapped in the hallway he’d been in for a good while while Sam and Steve worked to get through the wreckage of the site to get him out, he really was okay. Especially when he knew you and everyone else were safe.

He didn’t feel the need to talk about it, but just from the look in your eyes he knew you did. So he didn’t have to think much at all before he answered.

“Yeah, we should talk about it,” he said, his hand on yours as you caressed his cheek. “Shower first?” he prompted, pulling you from your ever anxious thoughts.

You nodded, “Good idea.”

You turned to leave the slowly steaming bathroom as the shower continued to warm, but were stopped by Bucky the moment he realized you were going for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m gonna grab your bag,” you laughed lightly, but not pulling away from his hold.

“You’re coming right back?” he questioned. “I was away from you for more than long enough already tonight, you can’t be gone too long.”

“I’ll be right back,” you tittered, a lightness returning to you the longer you were around him.

“You better be. If you take anything away from tonight, it should be that you’re not gonna get rid of me that easily, doll,” he smirked playfully as he let you go.

“I wouldn’t dream of even trying,” you said before leaning back in to kiss him softly. “You know I love you, Bucky, right? More than anyone, or anything, ever. You know that?”

“I do. But I don’t mind the reminder,” he smiled into another gentle kiss. “You know I love you more?”

You kissed him deeper at that, not realizing how much desperation was fueling you until you finally pulled away, leaving both of you a little breathless.

Your eyes were pinched shut as you tried to keep hold of yourself, pressing in close to Bucky once more.

“You can’t ever leave me. You can’t,” you whispered desperately.

Bucky’s light grip on your chin had you looking up at him, bleary eyes and a soft pout on your lips as you met his intent gaze.

“Look at me, sweetheart. I wouldn’t ever dream of it. I’ll always get back to you. I promise. Always.”

[d1s1ntegrated]

Your headcanons and fics are so real and true to me… Would it be possible to make a fic/ list of headcanons in a college/ school AU where shigaraki is weirdly obsessed with y/n ? please and thank you🙏

i had this as a draft and it got deleted </3 but YASSSSSS i love creepy shig! also sorry in advance...

to be seen (slight nsfw)

stalker!shiggy x friendly and slightly naive!reader oneshot

quirkless college au !

summary: shigaraki is obsessed with you. you like being his friend. mistakes happen.

cw: painnnnn, unrequited love, pining, stalker activities, masturbation mentioned, pervert mindset, language, slight mention of drunk sex, panty sniffing? is that what i call it????

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

shigaraki was your classmate in creative writing. he was a little reclusive, but you didn't mind. you just sat next to the guy (when he decided to show up to class anyways). what you knew about him was minimal, but oh, the things he knew about you. he had memorized your class schedule, he knew when your period started and ended. he knew when you were going out, and when you'd come back. he knew you lost your pens frequently, so he bought a pack for when you inevitably asked to borrow one from him. and licked them all, in hopes you'd chew on the ends like you usually do.

he never meant to get this bad, actually.

see, it all started when you were assigned a workshopping assignment for a story, so he invited you to his dorm to work on it. he wasn't prepared, you showed up ten minutes after you texted him. he didn't even have time to shower, he was still sitting in cum-stained sweats and his favorite (albeit a bit gross) hoodie. but you cared nonetheless, you just wanted to finish the work. so you sat in his bed in your little shorts as he perched at his desk and ogled.

after you left, he shoved his face in the small imprint on his mattress and came buckets to the mere idea of your ass on his sheets. the obsession grew from there. his lack of attendance turned perfect, punctual even. he said hi every fucking day, even when you weren't really in the mood to talk. you didn't mind the company, hell, he was nice enough and surprisingly smart for someone so...like him. he texted you, too. reminders about due dates, notes, etc. you usually just replied with a "thanks!" or "okay ty", but it was more than enough for him.

he asked to come to your dorm to work one day-he lied and said his ac was broken. you bit the offer anyways and he showed up right on time, papers in hand like a proud child showing off their artwork. this time, you were in basic sweatpants and a tank top. he didn't mind- you were on your period this week, he knew that. the idea actually made his toes curl in his converse. when you went to grab a snack, he jumped for the dirty laundry basket and snagged the first pair of panties he could find, shoving them hastily into his hoodie pocket. he went back to his dorm that night and jerked off with the soft cotton in his mouth, sucking up every ounce of you he could.

he couldn't get enough of you. you were a drug to him, a lethal one at that. he couldn't eat or sleep without the idea of you easing him. he couldn't cum to anything other than your social media profile and the little smiley faces you texted him.

when you skipped class because of a cold, he showed up at your door with hot soup that he spit in and the notes from that day's lecture.

on your birthday, he bought you a pretty pink cupcake and a new pair of headphones because yours mysteriously went missing.

when you left for home on winter break, he cried every night while jerking off because he missed you so badly. you were his only friend, his lover, his prized possession.

the next semester, he made sure his schedule was an exact replica of yours. even though half of the classes he didn't even need, or have interest in. but fuck, any reason to see you was good enough for him. he didn't want to take it too far, but he ended up there anyways. he started to bring you little gifts almost every day. a new notebook, a coffee, he even bought you a new water bottle because he was there when yours fell on the tiled floor in the great hall and dented to shit. even when you said it was okay and still functional, a new (and better) one was on your desk the next day, already full with ice water and a little purple bow on the top of it.

you didn't need to know that he was cumming on the things he brought, or shoving them into his mouth and "cleaning them off" lazily because he needed you to have him so fucking badly.

it got to the point where he was begging you to hang out every day after class, and you stupidly agreeing every night because you had nothing better to do. because you felt bad for him. even with his...faults, you found a comfort in him. he was just a really good friend, which is hard to come by in college.

so you played video games with him and went out for coffee and lunch dates because that's what friends do. you fell asleep in his bed while studying a few times and he never minded, because that's what friends do. you went home in his clothes one night because he accidentally spilt a drink on you and offered to wash your clothes with his laundry, because that's. what. friends. do.

nevermind the pictures he had of you asleep in his bed. or your ass when you bent over in building 130 to pick up your phone. or your tits pressed against the table from coffee date number 2. all in a little folder tucked away in a calculator app.

nevermind all the pairs of your socks and underwear, hair ties and used napkins, empty bottles, the sample size of your perfume, all shoved away in his dresser drawer.

nevermind the returned clothes you wore that you never did get to washing because when you went, all the machines were in use and he needed them back. that he also never washed.

shigaraki was a weird kid. but you were friends, in your mind. you were lovers eternal in his.

so when you dragged him to a frat party and got drunk with him, stumbling back into his dorm at 3am, it wasn't a big deal.

it wasn't a big deal when he kissed you, hard. because you were friends, lovers, dramatically doomed from the start because of two very different life paths. the kind of love story that ends with cardboard boxes and good lucks. it wasn't a big deal to you when you took his virginity, sloppy and intoxicated, because you promised yourself you wouldn't fall for a guy you met in class.

but it was a big deal, and it wasn't a mistake, not to him. it wasn't a mistake when he came inside of you, crying, repeating the worst three words known to those who just wanted to be friends. it was a big deal and it was a mistake to tell him you loved him too, not because it was a lie, but because you knew full and goddamned well what you had done to such a broken man like him.

he never deserved your kindness. he never deserved the taste of you. but you let him have it, and he would never let that go.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

okay ouchie im sorry this was a beautiful prompt and i fear i brought the vibes sooooo down with this one. but i cant always write smut lads, sorryyyyyy!

i hope you enjoyed. also i hope i made this as stalker-creepy vibes as possible

i didnt wanna go full sicko mode w his stalker tendencies in this one bc in my mind, he just wants to be loved ;-;

thank you for the request and lmk if this one hits or not! i can try again if it doesnt spark joy lol

[elllisaaa]

eli i’m having dirty bookworm thoughts again… they can at least break me from my reading slump not only make me more addicted to sunghoon 🤨 DOES SUNGHOON EVEN READ why am i coming up with these kind of ideas 😭

i’m thinking 💭 you’re writing a romance novel with a few sex scenes sprinkled in there and when sunghoon finds out about them after you give him to read your first draft he gets jealous?? you’ve spend so much time thinking about these things what if you were horny and you touched yourself after writing them out? and you didn’t tell him a thing?? he decides to do every single intimate scene from your book to you tonight but TIMES better 🙃

sunghoon is really going to be your bias sweetie i think, you're constantly losing your mind over him (but don't ever stop, i love it). it's so funny to me how we're always associating him with books lmaoo but i'm here for it and i love to write it everytime. 

SUNGHOON has always been very supportive of you and every project you started. so when you announced that you had been writing some novels and wanted to get serious with that, he couldn't have been more proud of you. 

he was so attentive to your every need whenever you started another writing session. he brings you tea or coffee when you're thirsty and cooks for you when he knows you've spent the whole day working on your novels and didn't eat. but sunghoon was always there to take care of you and help you out of your writing blocks by giving you idea, or reading your texts to help you improve. 

so when you told him that you wanted to start writing a romance novel, he was all in helping you even if he teased you a little bit by reminding you not to describe him too much as the perfect boyfriend. but apart from that, he doesn't try to interfere in the creative process too much, not asking about the plot if you don't mention it to him. but sunghoon is always there to help you whenever you need it.

it's not until you give him the first draft of your novel to read that he notices the few sex scenes that you also wrote. and listen, sunghoon is not easily getting jealous, he trusts you with his life, so how did words on paper were getting angry ? because he was. he could only imagine you thinking about all the dirty scenarios you wrote, all alone while he could have been there and make them come true. he couldn't help but wonder if you touched yourself while writing all this. 

sunghoon didn't even reach the end of the novel before picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. you don't even understand what's happening until your boyfriend starts to undress himself. 

"you're such a naughty girl princess, writing all these things when you could've just told me that you wanted to get your ass spanked."

your cheeks were burning as you tried to defend yourself. yes, the sex scenes of your novel were self-indulgent, including all the fantasies you couldn't voice to sunghoon. but you didn't think that he would pick up on that. though he clearly did as he caged you in with his arms, lips inches away from yours.

"gonna make all these things you wrote real hm ?"

and he would so do that : manhandling you in all the positions you described, slapping your ass, fucking you rough until you cried and letting you sit on his face. eveyrthing you wrote, he did it ten times better, resulting in you orgasming too much time to count and your body dripping with sunghoon's cum.

"now you will tell me everything you want baby, right ?"

when you nodded mindlessly, too fucked out to focus on anything else than his beautiful face and his cocky smirk.

"good girl. you know i'm the only on to make you feel like that"

[sinsinsininning]

First time sending a request😭 could I get a post time skip strawhat crews reaction to a reader who’s late to reunite with them, and turns out they were in Impel down but escaped?

Like they’re wondering where they are and Nami busts in showing an article in the newspaper about reader escaping?

Srry if this is confusing💀

Ay yo! My first request, Tumblr deleted my first draft of this so it’s a little rushed now sorry. I wrote this as more platonic but tbh it could be viewed as romantic with some characters if you really want to. I also wrote this with a gender neutral reader in mind and they/them pronouns. I made the reader kind of an explosion person just to justify some parts of the story.

This is very different from what I normally write so it was a great exercise! I hope you enjoy! ✨✨✨

~~~~

You were late.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary, just like Zoro was guaranteed to get lost and Luffy to eat all the food in sight, you were the perpetually late straw hat. It was basically your title at this point.

This was different though, the crew was gathering after being separated for 2 years and with the marines and enemy pirates closing in, it wasn’t the day for you to be behind schedule. Still the crew awaited you until the last moment, as they set off the allies they’d made while training came through to clear a path.

And you still weren’t here.

“Where are they?” Nami glared at the horizen, willing you to appear, the anger in her tone barely hid her worry.

“I’m not surprised, they’re always showing up last minute.” Ussop groused, folding his arms haughtily. “This time it’s gonna bite them in the ass and they’ll be left behind!”

“Don’t say that!” Chopper cried, trying to pull on Ussop’s arms to uncross them. As if that’d make you magically appear. “They’ll be here! They’re always here when it counts!” His tears fluster the sniper who turned away from him to hide it.

Nami and Chopper started arguing, slowly dividing the crew into two teams. Team ‘They’ll be here, have Faith’ and Team ‘They’ll get left out, get over it’. Sanji sided with Ussop and Nami because of course he’d side with her. While Brook and Franky sided with the optimistic Chopper, certain you’d arrive.

It was loud and a little annoying, but it kept the crew occupied for a while. At least enough to stop them from over hearing their Captain and First Mate.

“Captain.” Zoro said lowly, watching the others argue about your absence. “We have to keep going. We can’t wait much longer.” Luffy had a serious face for once, odd for Zoro to see.

“I’m not waiting, they’ll get here. I have no doubts they’ll be back.” He said with finality, his voice had gotten much deeper over the 2 year break. Zoro frowned, his faith in you not as solid as his Captain’s.

Robin approached her leaders, holding some papers out for Zoro to read.

“I only just had a moment to read these,” She said. “Shaky and Rayleigh gave them to me as we departed. I’m afraid our friend may be out of luck.”

Zoro gasped as he read, Luffy snatched the papers away to scan them quickly. The startled cry he let out was stifled by one of Robin’s many hands, appearing at the right time. The top page was your mugshot, grinning wildly at the camera while holding your inmate card. Other pages contain your latest bounty, some newspaper clippings of your crimes and capture, as well as some convoluted court documents. Zoro snatched the papers back, trying to make sense of everything.

“They’re in Impel Down? When?” He hissed.

“I’m not sure, it looks like they’ve been there nearly the entire 2 years we’ve been gone.”

“I was there though!” Luffy stretches his mouth from behind Robin’s hand. “I could’ve helped them!”

“It’s a large prison, Luffy. Plus who knows they may have been arrested after your jail break.” Robin tried to comfort him. “I’m sorry, but we can’t turn back now. The way back is blocked by the marines, we should go forward and figure out a plan when we arrive in the New World.” Luffy shook his head with a glare.

“No way, we can’t leave them for a second longer!” His shouting catches the crew’s attention, Robin and Zoro sigh before the green haired man tosses them the papers. “I’ve escaped the Impel Down once and I’ll do it again.”

As the crew root through the papers, crying out in worry at the contents. Luffy turns back towards Saboady, tips his hat back slightly to evaluate the scene behind him. The shouting of his crew and Zoro’s begs for practicality become background noise as he focuses on the carnage they’ll be returning to.

A glimmer on the horizen catches his eye, it’s an explosion. But unlike the others raging on, it seems to glow. He watches it for a moment, distracted by the unusual colors, it reminds him of what you usually wear, the same hue and intensity. He points to the spot, just as it fades another one just like it replaces it, only closer.

“Hey look.” He laughs, Zoro growls and whaps him on the head.

“Hey were you even listening?”

“Nah.” Luffy is at least honest, but his pointing has caught Robin’s attention as well.

“That’s strange, who could be causing that?” She asks and the rest of the crew gather as the dazzling explosions grow closer and closer. Like condensed fireworks.

“I bet it’s them!” Chopper cries out, gripping Robin’s skirt to dry his tears.

“No way, they’re in the worst prison ever! Even Luffy needed help escaping it and he has devil fruit powers!” Ussop argued, but his grip on the railing tightened.

“Whatever it is, it’s coming straight for us!” Sanji warns, shoving himself in front of Nami and Robin.

“He’s right!” Robin shouts as the explosions get closer, becoming larger and more deafening. “Everyone brace for a hit!”

As the crew tense for a strike, Zoro drawing 2 of his swords, Sanji preparing to jump, Chopper growing in size. The spectacular colors sail over them in a chaotic arc.

“Did…did it miss?” Zoro asked, stunned at the blooming display of colors and glitter fallout.

Just as he spoke, the crackling ball of hues lands on the lion head of the Sunny. Several crew members leap forward to strike the intruder, but as the illuminations die away, you stand up.

“You’re here!” Chopper cries again, rushing forward to hug you tightly. Franky and Nami rush to join him.

“Aw don’t tell me y’all were worried!” You grin.

You get passed around from crewmate to crewmate as everyone gets their greeting in. Nami holds your face to her chest as she exclaims her relief. Franky tries to show off his new hair before you’re yanked away. Sanji holds you to his chest as he tells you not to creep on his Nami-Swan. Brook cries out tears -somehow?- and begins strumming his guitar for you. Robin gently cradles your red face as she expresses her gratitude for your arrival. Ussop shakes you vigorously for scaring him both by your lateness and your latest -loudest- entrance. Chopper holds tightly to your back the entire time.

Finally you get deposited in front of Zoro and Luffy, who both grin down at you. Chopper is pulled off your back by Robin, finally. You leap up and hold onto both men’s necks as you cheer.

“Did you miss me?”

Luffy hugs you back even tighter and Zoro doesn’t struggle out of your affection for once.

“What the hell happened for you to end up at Impel Down?” Zoro asked as you let go of him to hold a sniffling Chopper once more.

“The warlord guy sent me to a small jail somewhere off the coast of Thriller Bark. I escaped and attempted to return to Saboady, but along the way I got captured by some human traffickers.” You began, rocking Chopper gently now as the crew gathered around you to listen. “On the boat in my cell I managed to make some bombs and break free.”

“Of course you did, you could make bombs outta toothpaste and sunflower seeds.” Ussop interrupted, a little jealous at your longstanding demolition prowess.

“Anyways, me and the other prisons staged a mutiny of the ship, but the captain intentionally crashed it so that we’d be trapped. The idiot didn’t realize it was on the shores of the worlds securest prison. So I got arrested with them since they recognized me and knew I had a bounty.” You laughed despite how horrified your crew seemed.

“When were you there?” Luffy asked, eyes intense as he watched you.

“Sorry Cap’.” You grin. “I was there a few weeks after you’d already escaped. Wish we could’ve busted out together, it would’ve been cool as hell.” He relaxed a bit, feeling less guilty about your imprisonment.

“Why didn’t you escape then?” Nami asked.

“It’s not so simple, honestly it takes a lot of luck and teamwork to manage that. After Luffy broke out, security increased a lot, at least from what I was told. I tried to stage an escape, but I’m not as charming as our captain so I didn’t get a lot of traction.” You continued.

“Heh sorry bout that.” Luffy grinned sheepishly.

“Not your fault, I guess I’m not a people person.”

“I could’ve told you that.” Ussop threw a loose screw at you, until Nami smacked his head with a scowl.

“Leave them alone!”

“So how did you manage to escape?” Robin asked. “And how were you able to fly in those explosions?”

“After my failed escape attempts, I got sent lower and lower in the jail until I was in level 5. Then I met up with Bentham!” You shouted.

“What?”

“Really?”

“That guy was in Impel Down?”

You basked in their reactions for moment until you glanced at your captain.

“He’s alive?” Luffy asked.

“Yup, told me to tell you hi.” You smirked, Luffy looked so relieved. “I’d gotten your message by then and was desperate to get stronger. He took me in as my mentor and trained with me. As for my escape, it’s a long story, but let’s just say I managed to make friends with the Jailer Beasts.”

“Woah! Really?!” Luffy was shocked, he’d never thought to try.

“Yup they and Bentham helped me escape. He stayed behind since he’s the new Queen after Ivan left, but he certainly helped me learn how to make a grand entrance.” You posed goofily, while your crew laughed.

“And the flying in sparkles?” Sanji asked.

“Technically not flying,” You said as you unbuckled your belt and thigh harness. There were several pouches there that were filled with sparkling little orbs, the same color as your explosions. “These are something I made by accident, I call them Star Tracers! If you crack the outer coating it creates a large explosion, but in the center it becomes very dense almost like a small stepping stone before it disintegrates completely. So I crack one, then throw it and jump into the cloud of sparkles and land on the step before repeating the process.”

“Wooooooah,” Ussop’s eyes sparkled at your invention. “How’d you manage that?”

“Not sure honestly, I think it’s a chemical reaction to the materials I use, but they’re all pretty common so it was easy to make a bunch. The steps are only tangible for a few moments, so I had to improve my speed, that’s why it looks like I’m flying.” You shrug and let Ussop look over the marbles as the crew starts excitedly speaking.

As the day starts to end and you’re sitting on the head of the Sunny, watching the water around you. Luffy slowly walks up to join you, sitting practically on top of you. The two of you sit for a while in silence, comforting silence after such a crazy day.

“Thanks for waiting for me.” You say sincerely, smiling as he starts to protest, then quiets himself.

“How’d you know I did?” Luffy asked, he’d tried to be subtle, but his worry for you had made him slow their escape.

“Come on, like you’d leave me behind.” You give him a side hug, letting him rest his head on your shoulder. “Plus I remember when you literally launched us out to sea once, you were waaaaaay to slow making your escape today. It was obvious.”

You both laugh as the water grows dark around you, ready for the next day.

[whumpy-daydreams]

Since you mentioned living weapon prompts…

Defiant whumpee with some sort of superpower finally breaking and becoming a weapon?

ooh i love this and now its really long and i want to write more because i have the plot bunnies

CW: electric shocks, brainwashing, needle mention, military indoctrination

Whumpee had been sloppy. They'd trusted the wrong people and been screwed over as a result. And now they had been arrested? Drafted? They supposed the specifics didn't matter.

Whumpee was wondering how long they'd been stuck in this stupid chair when a door opened, pneumatics hissing as a portion of the wall slid aside.

The man in uniform didn't smile. He sat opposite, barely registering them as he opened a file, scanning through the two pages inside. That was good. They clearly didn't have much information about what Whumpee could do.

"Please state your name for the record."

If Whumpee could cross their arms they would have. But instead they just cocked their head, lips pursed. A slight twitch was all that gave away the man's annoyance.

"It would be in your best interest to comply."

"Why?"

"Because it will save me time and you pain." He clasped his hands on the table and leaned forward slightly. "Your name."

"You forgot the magic word," Whumpee smirked. A jolt of electricity burst across their wrists and ankles. Clearly the restraints were for more than keeping them in place. "Shit!"

"As I said, it is in your best interest to comply. What is your name?"

"Fuck. You." Another flash of pain, stronger than the last, and Whumpee cried out through gritted teeth. Their heart was pounding now, sweat beginning to bead on their back.

The man waited patiently. Whumpee just glared.

When the electricity hit again they screamed, back arching. White flashed across their vision. Whumpee wished they could move. Wished they could shake out the growing cramps in their arms and legs. Still the man just watched, waiting.

Whumpee lost track of time as shock after shock hit them, the only breaks in the silence being the sounds of screaming and the same question from the man, over and over and over. Your name.

"Whum-" their voice caught between sobs, "-Whumpee. My name's Whumpee."

They were drenched in sweat now, limbs shaking from the electricity that had coursed through them just moments before. They were so tired.

The man just nodded, not bothering to write anything down. Bastard. He already knew their name. All Whumpee had done was shown how much pain they could take.

"Would you like some water?" The question caught them off guard. After a moment Whumpee nodded. The man reached down, putting a glass of water on the table, a straw already in it, but didn't move it closer.

"You are being recruited into a special division here. There are others like you already in service, and you will receive comprehensive training to complete your missions."

"Why would I do that?" Whumpee rasped.

"To serve your country. You would receive compensation: food and lodging, thorough medical care, as well as a generous package when you retire."

"Can I think about it first?"

"While cooperation is preferable, we do not need any consent from you to enrol you into the program. I will repeat that it is-"

"In my best interest to comply." Whumpee finished for him. They looked at the glass of water and thankfully the man got the hint. He brought it forward, holding it so Whumpee could drink from the straw.

They took a long sip, looked at the man, and spat it in his face. "You can go to hell." He reeled back, wiping the water from himself with a sleeve. To Whumpee's dismay he didn't look angry, or even particular annoyed.

"Perhaps you need some time to think about it." Was all he said before leaving, the door hissing shut behind him.

___

Whumpee sagged forward in the chair, cheeks stained with tears and sweat as their muscles spasmed.

It had been hours. The shocks were random, or random enough that they hadn't been able to find a pattern - though it was hard to keep track when you kept getting electrocuted.

They didn't have the energy to scream any more. Strained whimpers and a rigid body the only sign of the electricity coursing through them. I won't let them do this to me. I won't let them turn me into a monster.

A firm hand on their arm startled Whumpee, who flinched away, silently sobbing. Then a scratch on the back of their hand, the strange feeling of tape keeping something secure. Whumpee didn't have the energy to look.

"Please..."

"Let it run through before shocking again, don't want them dislodging it." A different voice, and a murmur of acknowledgement. A few minutes silence.

"Have you thought about your situation, Whumpee?" The man's voice again, calm and professional. Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou- "This can all stop if you want it to. All you have to do is cooperate."

It was so tempting. It would be so easy to give in. The exhaustion in Whumpee's body screamed at them to say yes, to accept whatever future they were offering.

With a sob, Whumpee shook their head.

"Why?" The man's voice was different now: softer, gentler. "You have no family, no true friends. Here you will have purpose. People to depend on, a stable place to live, the chance to make a difference in the world."

It was true. Whumpee didn't have anyone they trusted. There was no hope, no purpose, no stability in their future. Because of you. It was their fault Whumpee didn't have those things.

"Just let me leave," they said weakly.

"I can't do that. You belong here, even if you don't realise it yet." Whumpee heard rather than saw the man walk over. He pushed them upright, their head lolling backwards. "What's your name?"

"Whumpee." They didn't know why they said it. Whumpee told themselves it was because he already knew, but deep down that was a lie. It just... happened. They felt pliable, like their brain had been massaged into acceptance.

A video hologram appeared in front of them. It showed people in uniform eating together, playing games, doing training exercises and helping each other. Images of clean facilities, sports and books and tidy bedrooms flashed past one another.

It looked... nice? Not cosy but safe and welcoming. The calm speech of the voiceover repeated itself in Whumpee's brain.

'You'll be part of a family trained to be the best'

Whumpee wanted a family. They wanted to feel safe. Loved. To not have to worry about food and shelter, or who to trust. They're lying to you. The voice in their head took on an uncertain tone.

"Well, Whumpee? Are you ready to cooperate?" Yes. No. Whumpee didn't say anything, their thoughts merging together in a swirling pool of conflicting needs.

The man didn't say anything as he left again. Panic gripped Whumpee and they nearly called after him but it was too late. The door disappeared into the wall.

But no shocks came. Instead another video started, this time an interview of a young woman in uniform. She had powers too. And despite Whumpee's exhaustion they couldn't help but listen.

Another video played afterwards, and another, and another. Each one echoed in Whumpee's head, the voice telling them it was a lie getting quieter until it all but disappeared. Calmness spread over them, making them forget about the shocks, about the fact Whumpee had been kidnapped.

When the man finally reappeared, Whumpee looked at him silently.

"Are you ready to comply?"

"Yes."