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mulders-too-large-shirt · 5 months ago

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s2 episode 14 thoughts

i just finished the episode and stared at the screen for a bit and then burst into laughter because. what the hell did i just watch?

all i could think of while viewing this episode was that video of brittany broski in epcot sipping on a drink, shaking her head in confusion, and saying "heyyy! what are we doing?"

lmao. okay. so let's start from the top. man hold on i'm giggling again due to how baffled i am. okay i need to Get It Together.

(i assume that those who read this blog are already familiar with this episode so i'm not gonna list TWs and i normally don't feel the need to but we get some... interesting flavors here, like child abuse and antisemitism mention. and to be clear, i am not laughing at those- i am laughing about how utterly confused i am, and how i have no answers to anything, and only more questions than before this episode began)

so the episode title is in german and i had no idea what it meant but it was quickly explained. we'll get to that.

we start at a PTA meeting- a parent-teacher association, arguably the scariest of all settings we have yet encountered. and they're arguing about the school musical. someone wants to do jesus christ superstar (banger show) but they think that is inappropriate so i'm like oh, they're just super christian, and hippie jesus must offend them. and they also shoot down the idea of grease for language so this only reinforces my belief.

they start praying, which was in line with my earlier assumptions, but they're praying to satan. which raises the question: why does satan care if the musical grease says "fuck"?

(but this made the idea of JCS being inappropriate very very funny)

they're chanting the german that the episode is titled, which means "his is the hand that wounds" which tracks i suppose

now we're in the woods of new hampshire, with some teenagers, one of which says this girl's mittens are "giving him a gingrich". so i looked that up thinking it was some sort of 90's slang i was not versed in, but the only result was a reddit post trying to figure out what they meant in that exact episode. which did make me feel justified.

so these teens are being creepy, reciting things at a witch's altar and it looks like the boys are gonna try and be weird with the girls. they're doing some reciting and RATS BE UPON YE.

they're making a break for it, when the lead guy's neck is snapped. and we don't see by who.

enter our agents! the policeman is saying that he KNOWS they listen to that devil music, to which mulder quips, "the night chicago died?", so i had to google THAT too, and its a song about al capone. so i'll look into that i suppose.

policeman is like noooo, it's that evil METAL music

they're examining the altar, and scully asks who he was with, and the policeman says uhh we thought he was by himself? she says well, there's two six packs here, which generally suggests company, and also here's a scrap from a book. why didn't your guys notice this? and i thought this was going to be a plot point, how the cops were overlooking basic details, but they just sucked for no reason lmao

i also made a note that her hair looked really good here. a little wavy. the way i wished my hair looked.

mulder's going on about this place having a weird feeling, which i wish he would elaborate upon, but she's saying nooo, it's nothing, until...

toads fall out of the sky and onto their umbrellas.

YES BABY!!! CAMP TV!!!! TOAD SHOWERS!!!

(also gonna NEED their reactions in gif form at some point because i'm howling)

((and also how did they film that? go to the toad store to pick up some background actors?))

they go to the library to try and trace down who had the book they found the scrap from, and scully's theory is that the toads must have been brought by the tornadoes that were recently in the area. this is a scully approved theory.

they go into the school to try and talk to the surviving boy, who is sitting in science class with a sub, and when they announce they are looking for him the kid tries to jump out the window. but mulder is a track star and grabs his legs before he can fully yeet himself out. and i'm thinking to myself, if the FBI came and grabbed some kid in my science class, i think i would pass out.

our agents pull this kid and the two girls who were there aside for questioning, and the boy says he was just trying to "get some". at the witch's altar. a sick and twisted juvenile.

CUT SCENE to the PTA who say amongst themselves that one of them must have killed the boy, whose name is jerry, but they all deny it. he was killed with his heart and eyes ripped out, which is in line with their practices. so yeah that's suspicious but after that episode of trophy hunting killers, it could be anyone.

but when our agents enter the scene, the PTA say that it must have been the media that brainwashed the kids into satanic killers. and scully is like. if that were the case there would be tens of thousands of murders. and they say "okay so you get the stakes here" which had me howling. "tHe mEdiA iS bRaInWaShInG tHe cHiLdrEn" <- wow this is something i cannot say i have heard in the year of our lord 2024 (/s)

when they walk out of the school, mulder stops to get a drink at a water fountain. which is already funny because that's a grown ass man. when he notices that the water is going down the wrong way for the hemisphere they are in. and i'm laughing because why the HELL does he know which way the water is supposed to go down the drain. like i have never thought of that in my entire life and i guess now i will.

(btw this is never explained. we don't know why the water goes the other way here. witchcraft, i guess)

at this point, i'm thinking, this substitute teacher has to be the killer, and she opens up the drawer of her desk to put away the tests the students were taking, and we see a heart and eyeballs. gasp! i paused the screen here to make note of this revelation and the eyeballs on stalks looked sososo funny. and she just COVERS THEM UP with some papers which i can imagine must have been hard to grade after being soaked in blood.

they take a trip to the school therapist and mulder says boy, there are an awful lot of cases of mental health troubles here. and the doctor says, yes, this is high school. which honestly? i remember high school and yeah. that does track. it was a strange time. but mulder is not pleased with this explanation and expects that it's something deeper

scully went online and found what sounds like a report on the case- a boy killed with his eyes and heart removed- and mulder is like omg where did you get this?

well. i did not see this coming.

she then keeps reading and it is deeply antisemitic. actually allow me to do a verbatim report from the notes here:

"she went online and i was like haha she used this newfangled internet :) AND THEN SHE READS AN ARTICLE CALLING A SIMILAR CASE ACTUAL BLOOD LIBEL?? MY JAW HIT THE FLOOR IN RECORD TIME oh she found it in a Nazi newspaper from 1934... oh my gosh y'all i thought this was going in a VERY different direction"

so i thought that maybe this was framing the murder as an act of religious persecution? but it wasn't. they just threw that in there for... reasons?

mulder explaining wiccan lore... yeah that's a man who has studied religions

at this point, we are back in the science classroom, and the substitute teacher is handing out baby pigs. OUGH. i am so glad i never had to do that in school.

this poor girl is about to cut into the pig and she looks like she is going to be sick, which is in all honesty exactly what i would have been doing, but then she starts screaming and seeing things like the pig moving??? and squeaking???

she runs to the office, where the agents are serving looks in a corner, and she's told her dad is gonna come get her, but she runs away and mulder chases her and says "you're remembering!" because he is once again convinced of the reality of repressed memories due to his own personal experience

they're staring at this teenager as she sits crying on a picnic bench spilling her life story and again, the whole dealing with kids thing, who thought this was gonna be part of the fbi? not me!

this girl is crying, saying that her stepdad used to hurt her, and that they would chant and tie her and her sister up.... and well. this next part will also be best delivered from my notes verbatim:

"THEY WOULD GET ME PREGNANT AND THEN THEY WOULD KILL THE BABIES???? HUH??? I'VE HAD THREE CHILDREN AND THEY'RE ALL BURIED IN THE CELLAR??? STEPDAD KILLED HER SISTER??? WHAT THE FUCK"

and boy we do not even sort have time to unpack all of that. but it is safe to say that i was thoroughly gagged, and our agents seem only mildly surprised. in retrospect, i think they didn't believe her, which was further proved by a line like "imagine if what she is saying is true", but i, the viewer, believed her pig-induced memories

the girl is hysterical, and scully moves closer to hug her, and hold her while she sobs into her trench coat, and i'm sitting here wondering what is going on (very few answers are delivered btw)

(shoutout to scully to letting a strange teenager cry into her while confessing to all of That)

so the agents go over to the girl's parent's house, the stepdad of whom is in the PTA cult btw, and they ask about the things the daughter told them and i was shocked because. if they really WERE killing babies, telling them they knew about it could perhaps allow the parents to tamper with the evidence sitting in the basement. but the parents are shocked by the whole thing.

scully is asking why the daughter would say all this- and the mom is saying that her and stepdad have been having marriage problems- but i don't think that leads to THESE SORT OF CLAIMS?

at this point, i was deeply confused. i had no idea what to believe or where the narrative was leading me beyond the fact the substitute was evil. i wrote that i was "mentally putting up a board and there is string everywhere and i'm trying to figure out what is going on"

the girl had mentioned a sister who was killed by the stepdad at age 8- and scully says, well did you have any other kids? and the mom says yeah, one who died. and was she 8 when she died? not 8 years, but 8 weeks.

so what is going on here

scully is trying to be pretty careful and tiptoe around the situation, figure out what is real and what isn't, whereas mulder gets alone with stepdad and just asks him "did you do it?" which had me HOWLING. absolutely zero subtlety in this man.

he opens the door to the cellar and it SLAMS shut and stepdad man gets VERY angry and tells them to leave. can you do that? kick the fbi out while they're investigating you? i didn't realize that was an option

okay, so the girl is trying to make up her final, and is back with the substitute making up her pig autopsy because it's a final and of course you don't want to miss a final! the teacher takes her jewelry so it doesn't get dirty which makes sense to me, but then we see her in her office burning it over a candle??? and she's MOANING??? and it seems she's controlling the girl into CUTTING HER ARM??? she's bleeding out on the floor. and i'm still wondering what the hell is going on. but this poor girl is dead.

the agents are at the crime scene and the substitute is being weird af but i guess that's to be expected of someone who just did psychic murder

the PTA committee says the energy is very bad and they need to do a sacrifice to clear the air... so they say they're gonna frame the girl who just died as killing jerry, the og murdered boy, and say that she was jealous he liked another girl. and the stepdad seems pleased with this plot, which only made me further believe that he did the evil things he denied.

so at this point i was thinking, has anyone thought to check the cellar and see if there are in fact babies down there. no? just me? okay

mulder smells incense in the substitute's office, which she says is to cover the smell of pig, but he knows is also used in black mass, and frankly i'm shocked that it didn't set off the fire alarms, because i went to public school and i know how finicky those things are. but the situation is looking sus as hell because the actual teacher she's subbing for has only EVER missed these two days of school and also apparently he's out with... flesh-eating bacteria? that seems a bit odd, don't you think? AND no one can recall hiring this substitute.

there was a very loud and spooky clap of lightning here that felt reminiscent of the halloween specials of shows i used to watch as a kid. and i was wondering if this was perhaps meant as a halloween special of sorts. can anyone confirm.

mulder must have picked up on me telling him to go check the cellar for babies, so he gets a warrant and goes down there, but STEPDAD IS WAITING FOR HIM IN THE DARK! he's monologuing about his religion, and being raised to think that humans are no better than animals...

but then those in the PTA decided they would frame his dead daughter for jerry's murder, he realizes he IS better than an animal! better late than never for such a basic realization to hit, i suppose?

he also says that his beliefs were responsible for her being killed. so i hoped he would elaborate and surprise. he did not.

he admits to including them in ceremonies because the blood of the young is very powerful (???) but he says he never hurt them the way she claimed. and there were definitely no babies. she must have gotten that from the tabloids, and it mixed in with the repressed memories. which doesn't sound like how repressed memories work so i do not trust this guy still.

meanwhile the substitute is doing some witchery, while scully is still in the school! this cannot bode well for her!!!!

mulder is shocked by stepdad's stupidity, and says "did you really think you could call up the devil and ask him to behave?" which is objectively a banger line, even if used quite literally

the witch/substitute is moaning again and she's dialing numbers and mulder's phone rings, and scully's voice says there's something going on in the school, so he handcuffs stepdad to the cellar to get tf out of there, and locks the door behind him, but the cellar door OPENS????

A SNAKE IS COMING NOW???? he is BIG and is he gonna EAT stepdad...?

YES HE IS??? BOA AROUND THE NECK AND TORSO??? HUH?? what is going ON.

mulder arrives at the school just as the snake begins to feast, and he has his gun drawn and does his famous "scully?" yell, when he bursts in on her... just chilling in the dark and doing her work LMAO. he's all "why did you call?" and she says "i didn't?"

meanwhile the snake is doing some serious eating and the SUB HAS SNAKE EYES NOW?? HELLO?

they rush back to stepdad's place, where they find the door unlocked, and nothing but human bones on the ground and what looks like a snake track, which scully points out is impossible because it would take HOURS for a snake to eat a human and then weeks to digest...

and he makes some comment about her watching TLC and i'm thinking, well, i feel like knowing how long a snake would take to eat a human is more relevant than knowing which way the water goes down in a sink, so don't try and nerd shame her here.

but they find a snakeskin so they know it's a snake, and they remember there was a snake in the classroom, so it's time to get back there because clearly he has been consumed and there is not much that can be done to undo being eaten

the PTA folks are having a conference, talking about the death of stepdad, and how they need to make a sacrifice, and they say that if mulder knows what the sacrifice is for, it'll make it more meaningful, so ARE THEY GONNA SACRIFICE HIM??????

when mulder and scully return to the classroom, the substitute is moaning on the floor, saying she thinks the PTA folks killed the boy, and i'm like uh-huh, for sure, snake woman

scully opens her drawer and finds the eyeballs which are pretty incriminating... but as they go out to return to the substitute...

the PTA ATTACKS! a bookshelf is thrown on scully, and mulder is beaten by two men. and they are tied up and taken to the gym showers???? here i wrote "what the hell, there are two minutes left in this episode" and i was hoping it would somehow resolve itself so we didn't end up with another two parter and i could go to sleep after this in peace

(which. it did wrap up in those two minutes but i'm confused so there is little of the aforementioned peace i hoped for going on)

so the PTA crew has a dagger and a gun for sacrificial purposes, and they're about to be sacrificed in a high school gym shower, when the substitute uses her witch powers to make the PTA members turn the gun upon THEMSELVES, and frees our agents from their trouble. sort of. because they are still tied up and wet in the shower.

(does anyone know what the hell is happening.)

they stop writhing about and make it back to the classroom, where the substitute has written a note saying it's been nice working with you and then she's gone.

hey!! what ARE we doing here?

so i don't even know where to begin. i feel a lot of questions were raised and not one of them answered. what was up with that girl saying she was forced to give birth? were the parents denying it because it didn't happen or were they covering up the truth? what was with the whole eight year old vs eight weeks old dead sister? did the substitute kill jerry AND the girl, AND the PTA, and then just... leave? was she the dark force they were worshiping taking revenge on their lack of faith? but if that were the case, why would she kill the PTA members who were about to make a sacrifice? why would she kill the two kids and three adults but spare the agents? where did she go? why did she briefly have the eyes of a snake? where did the snake go? how did he eat a whole person that fast?

man. i'm not sure i've ever been so baffled.

was this an attempt to comment on the satanic panic? like, was the show pointing out how silly it was, or validating the fears of people across america?

i'm so deeply confused. can someone tell me if i'm missing something. was there some overarching theme that went over my head. is this setting up a part two where there will be answers. or is that the whole thing.

?????

#gonna need y'all to sound off in the comments on this one because. i need to know how you received this episode when you saw it #sometimes u just gotta laugh. yeah the satan cult got busted by the snake witch. catch up #conclusion: ????#juni's x files liveblog #the x files #txf

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rainbows-r-nice05 · 2 years ago

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~Stolen Glasses~

George Karim x Reader

Content: FLUFF and kissing

Summary: On one early morning, you decide to spice things up a little by stealing your lovers glasses.

Warnings: GRAMMER, it being my first fanfic I write.....

Word Count: 1,200 (according to Google Docs)

Notes: Ok y'all, This is my first fanfic ever writing and I sure do hope y'all like it. I apologize for my crappy writing. Please enjoy this fluffy fic I decided to do!!! I might do more.... just maybe.... (foreshadowinggggg).

@nevermoreakaemohogwarts I hope you like it!! <3

Warm, that's what you feel when you wake up. Eyes squinting as the sun beams down upon your face as you lie in your bed. Well, not your bed… more like George's bed. You two have been dating for about 3 months and you practically moved into his room. Let's just say you only go into his room when you have trouble sleeping or had a nightmare. Anyway, Someone must have opened the blinds while you were asleep. Only proves who had done it, which you were a little bit annoyed at. You also heard the shower running which meant that George must be in the shower.

Groaning you pulled the covers back and got up from the bed. You put on your fizzy socks as you look at the clock on George's night stand that reads 7 o'clock. You rolled your eyes since you could have slept in more. You were about to walk out when you spotted his glasses on his desk. A mischievous grin makes its way onto your face as you casually picked up his glasses and placed them in your pajama pocket. Your stomach gave a grumble which told you that you needed breakfast.

As you walked out of the room, you could smell the tea that was already brewed and the delicious smelling blueberry pancakes. George must have woken up a lot earlier than you in order to make these. Walking down the stairs and into the kitchen, you realize how quiet it is, with the exception of the shower running. Oh right!! Lockwood and Lucy would not be back until around 8, their case included an overnight stay at a hotel. Well that's why it's so quiet.

You walked over to the counter and made yourself some tea and put some blueberry pancakes on a plate and decorated it. Syrup and whipped cream were the main toppings and you took the plate and your tea and sat down at the table. You took a sip of your warm tea and started eating your pancakes. "Mmmm George, these are so good", you say to yourself as you take the first bite.

You loved the mornings at 35 Portland Row. Sun shining into the dining room and onto your face. The sounds of the birds chipping and the tea kettle whistling. Or sometimes it would be raining and those days were the best. But today was just another summer morning.

You then hear the shower shut off and the door to the bathroom opens. Then you see George with his wet messy hair sticking to his forehead with a big t-shirt on and guess what…. No trousers. You see George squint at you and all you could do is smile and blush at his stance.

"Y/n have you seen my glasses anywhere? I swore I put them on my dresser by my bed." You see him looking around the kitchen and moving things on the table.

"Not that I know of, Have you tried your pancakes because they are so good." You say trying to change the subject. George was now looking at you skeptically and turned back to his mug pouring the boiling water with the tea bag in it. Smirking, you slowly slipped the glasses out of your pocket and put them on your nose.

"Are you sure you ha-" he said as he turned around to see you mid bite into your pancake. You then continued to eat and smirked while George just stood there with a straight look on his face. "Y/n what do you have on your nose?" "I honestly do not know what you are talking about " you said as you sat back in your chair and looked at George. " Y/n…..you know exactly what I am talking about, now please give them back before I run into another wall." " Hmmmm…." You said thoughtfully as you put a finger to your chin. "No, sorry but I quite like your glasses, fit me well yea."

"If I do not get them in the next 3 seconds, there will be consequences." "And what would those consequences be?" You say as you raise an eyebrow. "You will see if you do not give them back" " I think I want to find out" you say smiling.

"Ok then, Three……" he says as he comes up closer to you ".... Two….." You have a feeling as to what's about to happen "....ONE…"

George lunges at you, hands at your sides tickling you. You laugh so hard trying to pry his hands away from you as George laughs and keeps tickling you. "GEORGE… STOPPPP!!" You say in between breaths as he continues tickling you.

You eventually escape his hands and quickly move to the other side of the table. " You know, this could all end if you would give me my glasses back." " Hmm… but I want to see what happens next." You held deep eye contact as You slowly moved toward the door. Looking behind you, you smirk and quickly run up the stairs, George following chasing after you. Laughter fills the air as you run into George's room and him hot on your tail.

"GEORGE WAIT AHH" You say as he tackles you onto his bed. Your laughs fill his ears and he pins your hands onto the bed with him straddling you. Your laughter fads as the both of you hold eye contact for a decent amount of time. Both of you are lost in each other's eyes and basking in the color of them. His dark chocolate brown eyes with your beautiful (e/c) eyes. George then glances at your lips and slowly moves in as if for a kiss. Just as your lips are about to touch, he backs out last minute and snaches his glasses from your face. "HA I have gotten my reward for chasing you up here," George says with a proud look on his face. You on the other hand are pretty flustered and as red as a tomato since you were teased.

"Not gonna lie, but my darling, you look quite good in my glasses." "Oh just shut up and kiss me already," you say as you put your arms around his neck. "As you wish my love," and the both of you lean in and press your lips to his lips.

This kiss was long and so much love and passion was put into that kiss. George's hand eventually went to your cheek as your hands started playing with the hairs on the back of his head.

As you pull away, George collapses on your chest with his head in your neck. You laugh as he snuggles more deeper into your neck. "Well, that was fun," you say as you play with George's hair. "Yea.. Maybe you should steal my glasses more often, my love." "Ok, I think I will, besides, I have got more plans to come as to when to STRIKE!!" you say as you snatch his glasses from his hand. "NOPE, you are too slick for that one darling," he says as he snatches them back and puts them on his face. You then pout and then George just busts out laughing. "Darling, you know that does not work on me." "Worth a try," you say as you place a soft kiss on top of his head. You both just sit there in comfortable silence and cuddling for about a good 5 minutes.

"Alright then, we better go down and eat breakfast before Lockwood and Lucy come home," George says as he gets up. "Yes you're indeed right," you say as you get up. George then waits for you at the door and interlocks your hand into his and shares one final short kiss before walking down stairs together. Oh yes, you were so going to get him back

#george karim x reader #george karim #lockwood and co series #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood

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frostironfudge · 2 years ago

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107 - Bucky Barnes

Summary: based on @marveldude506 's request: "Hey, idk if ur doing requests but could u do a bucky x reader where yn wears wigs cause she has short hair and she feels insecure about but she doesent want to grow it out, anyway, yn does motocross but no one knows except bucky but yn doesn't know that he knows and she goes to tournaments and she gets injured and bucky freaks out he pulls her helmet off to see if she's hurt and he sees her short hair and yeah...."

Pairing: TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x Motocross!Female!Reader

Divider: @firefly-graphics || Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: insecure reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, motocross accident, minor injury, emergency room, doctors, worried bucky, protective bucky.

A.N: i dont know anything about motocross i googled it for accuracy, hope you enjoy reading! thank you for sending in this request!!

Main Masterlist || AO3

When you lay on his chest upon instinct his hand moves to caress over your head. You try not to tense up. Bucky picks up on the littlest of things. The smallest changes which he catalogues.

Your breathing even, heartbeat steady, his hand moves over the hair. You sigh, shifting closer. A soft rumble of his laughter echoes against your chest. The images of the movie flicker across the screen.

Part of you wonders how his fingertips would actually feel, leaving soft caresses over your scalp. Would he still like it? Even if your hair isn’t actually long?

He’d admired it for as long as you could remember, always finding reasons to play with the hair.

You try to not let your mood deflate. The wig was doing its job. Hiding your actual shorter length. You didn’t hate the short hair, just facing the public, facing Bucky sent your heart plummeting with what ifs and negative thoughts.

“You alright?” Bucky whispers, taking a look around the room, to see if anything was out of order.

You look up at him, giving him a soft smile.

“I am.” You assure, he leans down to kiss your forehead.

“You sure? I can go, I know you have an early event to cover.” He raises a brow.

“Stay a while longer?” You request, brushing your fingertips over his cheek, his stubble growing out, he grins. Your thumb moves to his lips, tracing over them.

Bucky places a kiss on your thumb. He brushes back the fringe of the wig, fingers curling over your jaw tipping your head back to kiss you deeply.

He smiles against your lips, loving the lingering taste of your lip balm. The way your scent envelopes him. Sinking him into you. He stops his hands from moving to grab your hair, he has realised you tensed up at that, so he lets his hands wander to the back of your neck and shoulders.

Your hands move to his hair softly tugging upon it to feel more, he moans softly between your parted lips. You do it again and he’s losing all sense of control.

Bucky’s hands grab your waist in a swell move you’re now laying above him, you laugh when his stubble tickles you amidst his kisses to your neck.

Bucky chuckles as well, the sound sweet.

“I love how you make me laugh.” He speaks against your skin. Your heart soars.

“Bucky,”

“I am serious, you just, you brighten up my days and nights.” He cups your cheek, blue eyes full of mirth.

“I love you.” You tell him, his cheeks tinge pink. Right to the tip of his nose. You adore him.

“I love you too, Doll.” He confesses, your own cheeks heat.

You both never get tired of hearing those three words. The happiness Bucky finds within you, the happiness you find within him.

“Make out some more before I go?” He requests, “Please?” he adds biting upon his bottom lip.

“Have I ever said no?” You laugh, brushing your lips against his own.

Bucky’s chest rumbles with another laugh.

The taste of coffee lingers upon his tongue, both of you moulded against one another, wandering hands, kiss bitten lips.

Bucky never wants to leave, but as he stands at your doorway. He puts on a brave smile. It had been a few months but he knew he was headover heels for you.

One more kiss takes away your lip balm’s reapplication.

You lean your head against your doorframe. Watching him walk backwards with a dopey grin towards the elevators.

He stumbles over the upturned carpet, you bite back the giggle as he gives his patent glare to the fabric.

Bucky waves at you and catches your flying kiss to him, pressing it to his chest.

“Goofball.” You tease.

“Yours.” He adds, beaming.

“My goofball.” You affirm.

The elevator doors close on his smiling face, you sigh sadly, already missing him. Shutting your door, you head to your room, retrieving the mannequin head and placing your wig upon it.

Staring at your reflection, you run your fingers through your shorter hair. You loved how it looked, so freeing and most of all you.

As you run your fingers you can’t help but picture Bucky’s fingers. You sigh yet again, the ache in your chest reappears. You don’t want to grow your hair out, but you know he loved the long hair look on you.

Turning to your wardrobe cupboard you get everything prepared for the next morning. You had a motocross tournament.

Bucky was thinking you were there to cover it for your news report. You wonder if telling him would make sense. He did enjoy riding his own motorcycle.

You have half a mind to tell him, as his text comes in that he’s reached home.

You catch your reflection on the blank screen of the phone. No, he’d just worry and then you’d have to be honest about your hair.

Bucky wishes you good luck for the tournament in the morning, packing the food and blanket he brought onto his bike’s carrier.

He wanted to surprise you and also give you the key for his apartment. He had found a park near the tournament. After you were done you both could celebrate there.

Bucky wants to laugh, the way you failed to hide about you riding. The tournament registration documents were sprawled across your table and you tried to hide them but left the main document out. He pretended not to see it.

He had the date saved as a reminder. He’s ecstatic to say the least. Wanting to see you in action.

There is quite the crowd as he parks, everyone already cheering on the riders as the countdown timer begins.

Bucky spots your best friend, Bea.

“Hey Bea.” He greets, trying to spot you or your number through the line up.

“Bu-bucky?” She squeaks, “How what—,”

“She left the papers out so I thought I’d surprise her.” He smiles at her, her surprise morphs into awe.

“She’s going to be so happy.” Bea grins happily, “Her number’s 107.”

His lips part in surprise, locating you on your bike, face obscured by the helmet and eye protection goggles.

“Was that always her number?” He wonders.

“She always had it, every meet by default she ends up with it so she always requested it then. Even during Motocross Juniors.” Bea explains, knowing it was Bucky’s regiment number.

Bucky can’t help the wide grin that takes over him and his heartwarming.

“When she met you and you told her, she was so excited to finally know why she kept getting that number.” Bea chuckles, the announcer tells them the countdown is going to begin.

Bucky and Bear look towards the starting line, you're at the back.

The countdown begins, the crowd erupts into a cheer, Bucky’s eyes remain on you. As you begin to overtake before the HoleShot.

You’re almost there, Bucky cheers as you’re the first one through. Bea claps and they watch the race unfold, you fall back through the first moto. Coming in second, in the second round you begin to gain traction.

Bucky watches the screens and the angles as they show you move through the terrain, you’re slowed across the wet mud section.

The crowd goes silent as the first two bikes slip just after their airtime.

The crash seems brutal, a spin occurring and they slide to the edge of the terrain.

Bucky’s eyes move to your screen. He’s running onto the track before anything even happens, your airtime is brilliant, you feel weightless and then you spot the red flags.

You look forward, the medical flags are there. You try to change your angle so you can slow down and move off track safely.

The timing is misjudged, you land almost going into a wheelie, the dust kicks up and a tire moves into your way turning your bike and spinning it out.

The force throws you off. You hear the yell of your name over the dulled chaos. Dust rises around you as you roll over the ground, finally when you stop against a raised portion of the track you wince.

“Y/N! Y/N!” The figure looms over you, when you raise your hand to get rid of the goggles. The figure beats you to it, you blink. Your favourite shade of blue is worried.

“Bucky?” You ask, voice muffled.

“Doll, do you have a neck brace on?” He questions, hands moving to your helmet.

“I, yeah, Bucky what are you—,” you’re cut off as he carefully supports your head, taking the helmet off.

Seeing your face he sighs with relief, pressing his forehead to yours, hand running iver your hair and he pauses, you press your lips into a thin line.

“Bucky I can explain,” you panic as he pulls himself away.

“I’m so stupid, does it hurt anywhere else? Your legs, hands, anywhere else?” His worried gaze moves over your body.

Your motocross clothing isn’t torn or ripped anywhere, the safety gear has mud all over it.

“You aren’t mad about the hair?” You blurt.

“The hair?” He looks back up and then notices the short length, even in the chaos you look so beautiful, the short hair suiting you so well.

“Doll you look stunning.” He blurts, fingertips grazing over your scalp. You melt into his touch.

“When did you cut it?” He wonders, couldn’t have been this morning you wouldn’t have had the time.

“I—,”

“Hi, I’m the medic, is it okay to assess you?” The woman wears a badge and her colours are the same as the medical flag.

“Yeah.” You look at Bucky, he holds your hand through the assessment.

Turns out you have a sprain in your ankle and your left wrist. They strap you onto the gurney to lead you to the nearest ER for an X-Ray.

Bucky stays with you throughout, filling the forms, learning what needs to be done, asking questions.

He even asks when you would be able to get back to riding. You smile endearingly at him.

The doctors leave you for a moment to check on the other patients.

You reach for Bucky’s hand, “I cut my hair way before I met you, but when we met I was trying out a wig since for wearing it short had me worried over the what ifs and you absolutely loved the longer hair so I just never you know…” you trail off.

“Hey, I love your hair long or short. I think this hair also makes you look adorable as well as badass.” He smiles as you remember the same words he said about your longer hair as well.

“You don’t mind it?” You ask, still not convinced.

“Doll, you, I love you, long hair, short hair, you’d have a third head I’d still love you.” He runs his fingers through your hair.

You breath relieved, “Wait, how did you know about the tournament?” you still lean into his hand.

Bucky smiles sheepish, “Well you left the pamphlet out, and I saw that you had signed up, wanted to surprise you. Have a whole picnic basket ready.”

“I’m so sorry.” You give his hand a squeeze.

“Doll, you have nothing to apologise about, do you know how amazing it is? Seeing you in your element? We can always reschedule the picnic and I wanted to give you this,” he fishes around his pocket retrieving a key on a motorbike keychain.

You laugh, “Bucky you really want us exchanging keys?”

“If it were up to me you’d move in.” His tone is serious, you see he’s written 107 on the bike with a blue sharpie.

“I always wondered why I kept getting 107 on every tournament or participation, even my BMX bike had 107 on it. When I met you and you told me your regiment was 107th, it felt like everything clicked into place.” Your voice gets heavy with emotion, Bucky kisses your forehead.

“Hi Ms. Y/L/N your discharge papers are ready. You can change into your clothes, if you need a vehicle we have a rideshare app pick up area.” The nurse informs the two of you.

“I have my bike, is it okay if I take her home on it?” Bucky questions, Bea was taking your bike back into the rental pick up.

“You can but make sure to immediately elevate your leg once you get home.” She smiles and then moves out.

“Need help changing?” Bucky smirks, then winks. You giggle, shaking your head.

“Maybe at home.” You tease.

Bucky laughs, running his hand through your hair once again, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

-x-

permanent Bucky tags: @slutforsexyseabass

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nvrcmplt · 2 months ago

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👀 - this but it’s Lilu out of his human form

Shedding human guise was not meant to be a pleasurable thing to most demons, but when you've had the same flesh worn over the true self for so many eons as he had, it was a feeling of relief. As flayed stretches of flesh peeled away from his spinal cord in lengthy ribbons, how his ribs thickened in width, protruding his muscular layers and creaking with terrifying cracks of adjustment. Hair fell in clumps, heavy with scalp flesh as rivets of blood caressed his being head to toe. It was a sight that the storytellers could rarely master in their limited words back in the day… the art maybe a little more closer to what he was, ad shoulders thickened and broadened with his arm length growing with distortion.

Tail whipped at his own flesh toned legs, removing chunk after chunk with its razor shape edge and peeling aside the cage that no longer needed to be worn. After all, his toes spread, scratching claws into the tiled floor with a groan of ages. Skull cracks, elongates with horns twisting a cruel displays of bone manipulation. Twin sets of two, from forehead and just behind the ear… Adorned with new strands of the inky black strands that seemed more like oil and tar burning his flesh.

As his spine curved at the upper back, his wings protruded in their leathery glory - reaching out with thin membrane digits, cupping the very air as his jaws stretched and stretched and stretched - releasing teeth of the human set with rain as it's sister. A delightful sound as his gums instead refilled with horror. Close to that of a flesh-eating fish, with a hidden twist of throat monster that resembles that of a leech… As wings adjust, twisting their first joint to the floor to rest heavily, his limbs cracked, twisted and reformed to allow his new formed feet rest upon the scalding earth. Furless yet evidently feline-eques, a long ankle piece that curved in bone heel, matched his taloned toes of three. Almost a sphinx cat if one was to google search.

"Well, I guess I can't have a moments peace, hm?" Twisting neck without body, he cared not for breaking the connection of spine and crown, in fact it only allowed him to stretch those muscles a bit more too with a shudder of delight. Tail end whipping the earth - sparking a flame the raced up his spine in a sudden blur and settled between his horns in a small yet delightful dance of halo'd flame. His little Princely crown ~ It highlighted the ebony flesh that covered him instead now, bloody and gore covered but soon enough that was removed in a flash flame that devoured him head to toe, removing all forms of human-flesh suit from his being and allowing himself to prowl towards his beloved little human.

Arms of four, twisting from beneath his wings, breasts of ample size cherished in a fur line boob tube almost like fashion, as another set of pectorals where beneath those, leading onto toned abs and fur that covered the groin, just enough to tease between the legs… Dangling and shameless, evident to have all pleasures of the night at their beck and call. Lilu, hummed in amusement though, adjusting head with palms and reaching out with the more feminine of his hands to smooth over Nezumi's cheek and tenderly press his hair aside from ear to lean in with a scaling lick to his earlobe. "What a naughty peeper." Amused, blackened lips a touch lighter than his own flesh that allowed him to blend in with the night and dreams that he loved so much to taint ~

He sighed in blissed, tasting the raw need of Nezumi's want to become what he was, something darker and freer than any mortal - and yet, Lilu would never give it. It would be a shame to loose just a delightful meal after all ~ "Well, come now, sweet thing. Show me your devotion ~ " A swipe at the back of his humans knees and set of more masc hands upon his shoulders to make him take place - front and center, Lilu's fingers tease his hair roots yet again as he licked at his own lips with a tongue of wispy flame. "I do have guests coming soon, so help me relax, darling ~ It's so tiring playing host."

#nezumivc103221 #« ( Lilu ) » Answers.#» | × | Lilu&Nezumi || Kiss The Boys And Make Them Die ||

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cartoonedin · 3 months ago

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thanks for the like bestie here is all the horatio lore i can semi-coherently elucidate at this time. tl;dr the name is a pain in the ass and so is his unicorn

just a city boy born and raised in south detroit. except there is no south detroit so he was born and raised in north windsor or something lmao. knew nothing but asphalt, polluted air, and general metropolitan bustle until the invitation to unicorn academy made its way to his doorstep. many a dog pissed on the box while he was debating whether or not it was a bomb.

parents were raised in a doomsday cult. this isn’t too relevant he just values the truth a lot because of it. which is exactly what you want in a student at the school of suspending one’s disbelief right

slightly more relevant he has a very strong fear of heights. palpitations if he’s more than a centimetre away from the emergency call button on any given elevator. he dropped a full dollar out his window at age five and has been traumatised ever since. which is exactly what you want in a student at the school of suspending one over various perilous landscapes right

back to being irrelevant he’s good at maths but only because he’s got a hundred spreadsheets open at any given time to minmax mmorpgs. consistent regional fourth placer in competitions and perfectly content with that.

but anyways! he did not enjoy the ride over and nearly fell out several times. nearly fell over seeing more than five trees in his periphery. actually fell into an infinite conga line of negative thoughts upon finding out that his unicorn had the power of flight. got into emerald dorm and half-jokes that it’s because the hue of the gem matches the ever-rising bile in his throat

hated the riding jacket because it made him look like a lawyer. he got one anyways because he is not a main character and has more positive feelings about the piss yellow tie.

sooooo adamant that his hair turned a dusky periwinkle. it’s grey just say it’s grey (because statistically speaking there’s no way all the kids get cool hair colours and streak placements) (but mostly because i think it’s funny)

also his unicorn is named sky and he spent the entire year trying to convince people it’s the other way around. probably would’ve done so even if his unicorn’s name was cirrocumulus cloud or bird poop

this should go without saying but he had so many life-and-death moments before the final test. like month three and he was still mistaking the winkle wash for pepto bismol. if sky jumped over anything higher than a twig he had a 50/50 chance of jumping into the nearest mud puddle to save himself from a concussion. sorry buddy there’s no b plot to jump start your education!

had never seen a school library in his life prior to unicorn academy. honestly didn't see much of its library either he slept through 9/10 study halls

got the hang of things eventually. what things? well. let’s just say. things because i’m not googling any more horse photos jesus christ

at the very least he started treating his unicorn like a friend instead of a great scary beast moments away from feasting on his beautiful dusky periwinkle hair <3

it was the day before the final test. everything was going great. he had eaten real food for breakfast without tipping the dwerpins with the last of his birthday money. he hadn’t thought about how his league of legends ranking had to be dropping so hard in a full five minutes. he had, however, been standing behind sky when a bird somewhere in a five-kilometre vicinity made a sound loud enough to incite a strong kick.

teachers called it a broken tailbone. classmates may or may not have called it a broken butt. horatio called it the best reason yet to drop out of school. sky could have another rider, and many more riders after that to abandoned boot, but he couldn’t have another tailbone. and even if he could, he wasn’t certain he could stomach the experience. especially seeing as he had an especially bruised stomach.

spent summer with a walker under the watchful eyes of his utterly befuddled parents. but he got his xbox back so everyone was happy! except his unicorn probably (she gave her next rider a 10x harder time out of guilt)

became an accountant after graduating from the tri-state’s most mediocre university and, in later adulthood, believed his time at unicorn academy was a really long lsd trip from some really bad halloween candy. he adopted a child after getting promoted to managerial accountant at some insurance firm, appeased her grandmother by naming her macbeth instead of bethany, and lived the rest of his life blissfully ignorant to the existence of unicorns as anything other than his daughter’s favourite piece of fantastical decor. when he’d gotten so good at making up stories about them was something of a mystery.

#oc #he is my daughter (aka a thinly veiled filibuster abt danny's plot)

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featherghoul · 1 year ago

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You good?

Lee!Terzo x Ler!Omega

Warnings/Disclaimers: Comfort angst, strong language, parental issues, empty threats of murder, slight cardiophilia, and Google Translate Italian because I've been too lazy to keep up with Duolingo.

Word count: 1,563

//Author's notes

Holy shit, my first fic on this blog. No idea how well it's gonna do, but fuck it, let's gooooo! A quick thing I want to mention that I think is mandatory: any work of fiction I create centered in this fandom will never be about the people behind these masks, but about the characters they portray. With that being said, I hope this fic is enjoyed by at least one person. Another thing I wanna mention is that I do not proofread for whatever fucking reason—probably laziness— so there's probably mistakes here. Be patient with me. ;;

With a huff and a grumble, swearing and cursing in his native Italian under his breath, Terzo entered Omega's dorm unannounced and flopped belly first onto the ghoul's bed right next to him, who was practicing on his guitar, strumming whatever popped into his head. Omega's pointed ears perked up upon hearing Papa Emeritus the Third enter, though they quickly pinned back when he saw the mortal's disheveled state. "You good?" The ghoul asked as he paused and looked over his shoulder to face his human partner, who gave no response to him, lying limp on the bed, breathing deeply. "Terzo, is everything okay?" He asked again, a bit more insistently as he rubbed Terzo's shoulder.

"Just fucking peachy." Terzo grouched, his voice muffled due to his face being buried into the mattress.

"You don't seem fine." The demon replied as he stood for a moment to put away his guitar, putting it back on its stand so he could give his Papa his full attention. "What's got you heated?"

"Nothing! It's fine!" Terzo grumbled again, his tone more annoyed than the last response.

"Come on, talk to me, babe." He scooted close to the Anti-Pope, rubbing his back, "What's the matter?"

"...Fucking—" Terzo let out a long, loud groan as he flipped over onto his back, removing his mitre to comb a black leather gloved hand through his hair, "I'm so sick of the way I'm fucking treated by Nihil and Sister!"

Omega sighed as he pulled Terzo's head into his lap, running his black claws through his mate's dark hair that had subtle streaks of silver which showed his age, listening to Terzo get his ranting out, his pointed tail twitching as it hung over the edge of the bed.

"They both treat me like I'm some fucking incapable toddler!— Like I have no fucking clue on what I'm doing!" His mismatched eyes glared up at the ceiling as he spoke, his brows furrowed, "For once, I just want them to tell me where I am and where I should go instead of telling me what I'm doing is wrong! I want him for once to tell me I'm doing at least something right!" His eyes began to become a bit glossy. He sighed again, "Omega, you and the others know how hard I try to push this band and The Message forward in the right direction. You know how hard I try to stay on The Path, but it's so fucking difficult when the messages they want me to put out doesn't match what I feel needs to be said… It's so difficult when my best will never be good enough for The Ministry…" He started to choke up a bit.

Omega softly shushed him, caressing the smaller male's cheek with his knuckles. "They're fucking douches."

"Especially my fucking deadbeat of a father." Terzo let out a shaky sigh as he reached his hand up to clasp Omega's, kissing the ghoul's palm.

"He can fuck off. He and Sister both can fuck off. I think you're doing fucking incredible, and fuck them all if they can't see that. You've been doing your best, and it's gonna pay off. Like that Grammy, huh?" He smiled softly at Terzo, but frowned again when the only response given to him was a slight shrug.

"...I want to see them all fucking hang," Terzo growled after a moment, "I want to fucking strangle them…" He balled his hands into fists, though they soon released as Omega gently clasped them in his, kissing the mortal's knuckles. Terzo exhaled once more, "I'm fucking sick of this shit…" He closed his eyes, pulling away one of his hands to rub at his temple.

"Hey, I know exactly what will make you feel better." Omega grinned, his wolf-like fangs showing.

"What?" Terzo mumbled. When he got no reply, he looked up at his partner, noticing the look he was given. "...Oh, fuck you!" Terzo jolted up, glaring at Omega, "No! Fuck that!"

"Come on!" Omega snickered, "You can't deny that it helps!" His tail swayed behind him.

"What about my dignity!?"

"What dignity? You lost it when you started dating me!" The demon laughed softly as he scooted close to Terzo again.

"It's embarrassing!" Terzo argued still, backing away until he was almost falling off the bed.

"So? It's just us. No one else needs to know what we do here." Omega reasoned, his tail thumping a bit against the bed. Terzo was silent for a second or two as he glared at Omega before sighing, his face sweltering beneath his papal face paint. He crawled back over to the large demon, laying across his lap.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you when this is over..." Terzo grumbled.

"No, you won't." Omega snickered as he ruffled Terzo's hair, which made the small mortal huff and attempt to blindly fix his hair. "Ready?" He cracked his knuckles, the sound making Terzo tense. Before the Third Papa could say anything, Omega immediately began gently wiggling his claws into Terzo's sides, making the smaller man jolt and gasp, frantic giggles soon following. "Pfft— W–Wait!! I—Hahah— wasn't ready!!" Terzo brought his gloved hand to his mouth, trying to muffle his laughter and mask his smile.

"Well, if I didn't start now, you would never be ready!" Omega reasoned, pausing to attempt to grab Terzo's wrists. "And don't do that! I wanna see that pretty smile!" He huffed as Terzo tried to fight back, the Anti-Pope slapping at the ghoul's hands.

"F–Fuck you!!" Terzo snickered, letting out a panicked gasp as his wrists were caught and pinned down above him, unable to pull them away. He sank as he gazed fearfully at his partner with smiling eyes, giggling nervously. "...A–Abbi pietà!" His voice cracked, making Omega chuckle.

"Hmmm… No, I don't think I will." The ghoul grinned deviously as he walked the claws of his free hand up and down Terzo's ribs and side. At first, Terzo tried his hardest to hold in his reactions, his face scrunching as he did the best he could to keep himself from cracking, but that did no good as he broke less than four seconds later, Omega grinning triumphantly as Terzo crumbled.

"There's that pretty sound." The ghoul murmured as the room quickly filled with Terzo's laughter, though it was clear he was still trying to hold back.

"Asshole!!" Terzo barked out through his laughter while he tried to hide his face in the pit of his elbow, not wanting to give his ghoul the satisfaction of seeing him break.

"Oh, don't be like that! You enjoy this!" Omega began to scratch lightly at the mortal's stomach, slipping his large hand beneath Terzo's papal robes to get as close as he could to bare skin. "F–Fuck off!!" Terzo swore again at Omega as his laughter increased in volume, now kicking his legs out as an attempt at coping with how badly it tickled. "No! You need this!" Omega scratched above Terzo's belly button to tease the poor mortal, which had the desired effect of making Terzo more frantic and try to suck in his stomach. "You're obviously stressed the fuck out and that needs to be fixed."

Terzo shook his head as he laughed, snickering as he kept trying to hold back. "It's— Snrk!— It's torture!"

"No, it's not. You're being dramatic. Think of this as a sort of intense massage!" The demon suggested as he scratched just right above one of Terzo's hips, making the human shriek. "N–NO!! NO, NO PLEASE!! NOT THERE!! OMEGA!!!" Terzo began to buck, much to the ghoul's amusement.

"Yes there!" Omega teased in a singsong-y tone, "This is the grand finale! It'll be over soon, babe." Omega's touch grew lighter and slower as he remained at that spot above the mortal's hip. This only made Terzo more hysterical, black tears now running down his cheeks from how hard he had been laughing.

"O–OMEGA, PLEASE!" Terzo squeaked, "I'M DYING!!"

"You seem very alive to me." Omega chuckled as he shook his head at his mate's dramatics, his claw slowly picking up speed and pressure before both of his hands at once attacked Terzo's hip bones, the smaller of the two now screaming with high-pitched and flamboyant laughter, thrashing about in Omega's lap and nearly falling if it wasn't for his boyfriend catching him. Terzo could no longer speak at Omega now, only being able to mouth pleas and curses at the other. Though, after what felt like an eternity, but was really about fifteen seconds, Omega let up, ceasing his attacks to allow the other to breathe and calm back down as he held him, bringing Terzo's head to his chest as he rubbed and patted his back. He chuckled alongside Terzo's leftover giggling, squeezing the other tightly and protectively.

"You good?" Omega smiled softly at Terzo, who nodded and tilted his head up to face him, his makeup smudged and his face stretched with a wide smile. "...Y–Yeah… Huff… I'm fine… Puff…" Terzo responded as he still gasped for breath. Omega gently massaged Terzo's scalp as the small mortal pressed his ear to Omega's chest, listening to the ghoul's heartbeat to help him calm down.

"... I'll get your ass later for this…" Terzo groaned, still embarrassed, which earned him a chuckle from the large demon.

"I'd like to see you try."

#🕯️🕯️🕯️⸸Fics⸸🕯️🕯️🕯️#not a christian band

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yourfriendlyneiborhoodartist · 1 year ago

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Hi my name is Alen Ott, this is my first time posting my writing for the public. there is a link to the google doc of it if that is more your speed but i just wanted to say i hope you anjoy this short scarry story.

The Corn Maze Incident.

By,Alen Ott

Edited By, Sora Snyder And Madison Morey

Characters :

Mary rogers: Main character

Amy: Mary's friend

Sarah: Mary's friend

Joshua: Mary's son

Alice: Mary's daughter

Ghost child

Police officer

Male Voice

ENJOY

“Can you tell us about the night at the corn maze ms.rogers?” the police officer said with great worry and concern.

“No, I can't do this anymore.'' Mary said in a mix of anger and grief as she got up from her chair throwing her bag around her shoulder. A tiger mask and a fox mask suddenly fall from her bag. She stared at the 2 masks in horror and threw her bag to the ground as she backed up now trembling. ”I didn't ... .why….why were they in there?'' Mary proclaimed in a loud whisper.

“Please we just want to get to the bottom of this” the police officer stated with a look of pity on his face.

”...fine.” Mary said as she sat back down not going to pick up her bag or the masks.

“It all started when me and 2 friends from high school decided to go to a pumpkin patch with my kids Joshua and Alice...”

“God, I can't even remember the last time I've been to a pumpkin patch, ” said Amy, a woman with short brown hair and brown eyes.

“I think it was our freshman year field trip,” said Mary, who has dark blond hair and gray eyes .

“Maybe your freshman year field trip, I was still in middle school. You guys got lucky, my freshman field trip was to the history museum." Sarah said with an annoyed tone to her voice.

The 3 women walk and 2 kids run through an archway with big orange letters at the top reading "PUMPKIN PATCH (now featuring our new corn maze!) ”. Upon entering they saw a man at a desk who was yelling ”COME EXPERIENCE OUR NEWEST ATTRACTION THE GREAT CORN MAZE, KIDDOS GET A FREE MASK! ”.

“Can we go, can we go!?” the 2 children said semi in sync.

“Sure i don't see why not'' Mary said while patting their heads. The 2 kids ran over to the desk where there was a wide variety of different animal masks. Alice picked up a fox mask while Joshua picked up a tiger mask. The 2 kids put on their masks and all 5 walked inside the corn maze.

”I hope this doesn't take long.” Amy jokingly said towards sarah. They walk around for what feels like forever.

“How long is this maze?” Sarah said annoyed.

“Mommy my legs hurt.” said Alice, clinging to her mothers leg. they heard what sounded like the giggle of a child. Joshua ran in the direction of the child while Alice was still clinging to her mother.

“JOSUA GET BACK HERE ,PLEASE STAY WHERE I CAN SEE YOU” Mary yelled in a concerned tone, but it was too late when they turned the corner to find Mary's lost son he was gone.

“Ok everyone split up, we have to find him” Mary said with determination in her voice.

”Can I go with Sarah,” Alice said. A young adult clearly younger than the other 2 pulls down her hood to reveal her long black hair and almost teen-like features.

“Of course you can hun,” said Sarah, kneeling down to Alice's level. Alice hugs Sarah and everyone goes their own way. It felt like they had been looking for hours. The sun had even started going down when Mary heard loud fast footsteps in the dry grass behind her,its sarah.

“I DON'T KNOW WHERE SHE WENT I TURNED AROUND FOR 1 SECOND AND POOF SHE'S GONE '' Sarah screams in a panic.

“It's alright don't worry we will find them” Mary says with empathy for the worrying scared Sarah while hiding panic in her voice. They walk around a while longer with no sight of Amy or the 2 kids. until the 2 women turn the corner and there they see it…

“...Mary…you need to see this.” said Sarah with a trembling voice almost in tears. Mary turns around to see the body of a boy with dark brown hair in a tiger mask lying in the dried grass which is now soaked in the boys blood. It was unclear how he died but he was surely dead. The 2 women were frozen in horror.

Mary stepped towards her child lying in the grass and kneels down next to his body, trembling.,“....My baby…..oh my baby..who..did this to you…” the grieving mother said, choking back tears. She kissed her son's head and said ”I love you my baby ... .rest easy now..”

As much as Mary wanted to stay with her child she knew she still had a child alive who needed her protection from whatever did this to her son. She grabbed Sarah's arm and dragged her away with tears filling her eyes. They walked for a while in silence Mary Still holding back her tears.

As Sarah was about to say something the 2 were startled by the sounds of a woman screaming. They both ran to the source of the sound and there they saw it. Amy was collapsed crying on the ground as a young girl with dark blond hair and a fox mask hangs from a tree above.

”No…NO NO NO!” Mary is now in a panic, both of her children had fallen victim to whatever was in that maze with them, Mary grabs her friend's arms and runs searching for an exit, help, something until eventually they get to a 3 way intersection. Mary froze unsure of what to do, tears filling her eyes as she loudly sobs mourning the brutal loss of her children.

Suddenly through the left path appears the vision of a boy in a tiger mask. The 3 girls are shocked. Shortly after from the right path appears a little girl in a fox mask. Mary is frightened at the sight of her dead children standing in front of her. When all of a sudden there is the flickering vision of a young child in a bear mask.

“I couldn't help them,” the child said in a quiet, almost whisper-like voice. “But let me help you.” as the 3rd child flickers in and out of view the 3 women hear the man from the desk again.

“COME EXPERIENCE OUR NEWEST ATTRACTION THE CURSED CORN MAZE, CHILDREN MUST GRAB A MASK” suddenly the 2 girls beside Mary disappear. Everything goes black….

“And then I woke up in the hospital….”

thank you for reading my story i really hope you enjoyed it.

#horror #scary stories #short story #halloween #writing

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jjurassicxslytherdor · 2 years ago

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hi there! this is gonna be my first tumblr story so I hope you enjoy it. I have other works on other apps but I will not be sharing that haha.

I’m gonna start with just some y/n drabble that I have muse for. I’m open to notes and for requests ;)

Title: After Life

Warnings: mentions of death

Tags: x reader, fantasy, stranger things, eddie munson

Fandom: stranger things

Characters: eddie munson x reader

An old phonebook. An old, dusty, water damaged phonebook sat at your fingertips. It had to be ancient- no one used these things anymore. The world had Google! Or yellowpages even! Although, that seemed a bit outdated as well. The year was 2023. You flipped through the old pages which made a crunching sound each time they were turned. You knew it was a shot in the dark, but you also couldn’t help but be curious as to what possible outcomes there could be from this experiment. Your finger traced down the words of the book until they landed on one name: Eddie Munson. The section was equipped with his phone number and address. There had been other words next to the name, possibly some numbers, but they had vanished with the time and with the weathering of the book. You jotted down the name and address and put the book back on the shelf.

You gave it some time before deciding to act. You had almost forgotten about your soon to be pen pal when you stumbled upon the note you had taken. You figured it was a sign. You grabbed a pen and some paper and began writing.

Eddie,

I know you don’t know who I am… I don’t even know who you are… but I was hoping to find a penpal. What better way to do so then randomly!

This was starting to feel strange… maybe it wasn't such a good idea… he could be an old man for all you knew! Something inside you urged to continue anyways…

Feel free to reply, but do not feel pressured to. My address will be attached as the return address. My name is Y/n L/n. I live in the US.

It's good to not be super specific in cases like this.

I figured this could be a judgment free zone. I had to get this out to someone, and there aren’t many people here who would take the time to listen to my problems. I don’t have any friends… at least not anymore. Not since I decided I liked my life better when I was being true to myself. My friends didn't end up liking the me I chose to be. Have you ever felt like an outcast?

Yours truly,

Is that too forward?

Your humble penpal, Y/n.

Within the next day or so, the letter was signed, sealed, and delivered so to speak. Days went by, you figured it had gotten lost or that the receiver simply tore it up. You had no idea of the journey this little envelope took.

The afterlife is a concept which not many people can fully agree upon. It has been portrayed many different ways throughout the years. In this case, the afterlife was a blue tinted village that lay underground. Tunnels connected thousands of villages and the blue light extended through them all. The light didn’t seem to be coming from anywhere in particular. It just washed over the village and its residence like a filter. Eddie sat at a bar, tended by an older man who loved nothing more than serving drinks. He poured a glass and handed it off to the curly haired man. Eddie still wore his green vest and a bandana around his head. It wasn’t because he had to. He had died in it after all. But he chose to keep it on. He feared he would be unrecognizable without it. Like if his friends ever joined him, not for a long while he hoped, they would be able to recognize him instantly. A buzzing sound was heard in Eddie's ear as a small creature appeared.

“Mail for the deceased.” It said in a gravelly but high pitched voice. He handed an envelope to Eddie and one to the bartender. The bartender gently laughed.

“She’s sent another one… she still thinks about me.” He said. It was from his wife who had outlived him. It had been nearly 10 years, but she never failed to write him love letters. The postal service was funny like that. Sometimes, mail is sent to the afterlife. If you’ve ever wondered where that Amazon package was lost… it may have ended up in the hands of the deceased. Boy do they love getting gifts like that.

Eddie had only ever gotten one letter. It was one written by his uncle as a final goodbye. Eddie read it and couldn’t bear going back to see him. He had the option- to haunt somewhere- but he knew he would be much happier moving on. He could see his friends in the afterlife eventually anyways. He didn’t recognize the name on the envelope. “Who is it from, boy? You've been dead for a while now…” He started, before he remembered that time worked differently there. Though Eddie had been dead for nearly 20 years, he’d only been in the afterlife for about 10.

“I don’t know…” He said. He looked into the other room where a stage was set up. He still played music in the afterlife. He had received a copy of his guitar and continued to play it. Sometimes, the afterlife reminded him of the Upside Down. But it was much calmer. No one was watching. He kept on his merry way. An eternity in a happy place.

He ripped open the envelope and read its contents. “It's just… someone who wants to be a penpal.” He said. He laughed softly. “Poor thing…” he read the words.

Have you ever felt like an outcast?

He shifted in his seat. Of course he had! He was boiling with advice he could give to this person! Advice he could give to you!

“But we can’t write back to them, can we?” He shrugged it off. The bartender was about to chuckle and agree with him. However instead he stopped in the middle of cleaning a glass and tilted his head.

“Well… I don’t believe I’ve ever tried.” He said. “By all means, boy! Write back! If you can communicate across planes… then I could talk to my wife! My Carol!” he said. He didn’t want to try the experiment out himself because… well… because what if it did work? It might do Carol more harm than good… but this new penpal of Eddie’s… they had no idea that he was dead. They would never suspect it. Eddie could give his advice and not have to cause a disruption between life and what comes next!

He bolted out of his bar stool and ran to a room he called his own. He pulled out paper and a pen and began writing.

To be continued

#x reader #eddie munson #fantasy #stranger things #au

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rastronomicals · 8 months ago

Photo

5:22 PM EDT April 3, 2024:

Mr. Airplane Man - "Jesus On The Mainline" From the album Mr. Airplane Man (1998)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

Jesus on the mainline Jesus on the mainline Jesus on the mainline You can call him up and tell Him what you want He will come in a hurry Lord He will come in a hurry Lord He will come in a hurry Lord You can call Him up and tell Him what you want When you're sick and you can't get well When you're sick and you can't get well When you're sick and you can't get well Call Him up and tell Him what you want Jesus on the mainline Jesus on the mainline Jesus on the mainline You can call Him up and tell Him what you want Jesus on the mainline Jesus on the mainline Jesus on the mainline You can call Him up and tell Him what you want

My tenth grade English teacher, Dr. Moss, was fond of telling a story about William Blake, the English poet, painter and mystic. Seems that a traveling salesman had knocked upon Blake's door one fine English twilight, but the poet's wife had refused the man, saying that Mr. Blake was indisposed, being back in the garden, speaking on a most urgent matter with Jesus . . . . Though Blake is known to have actually set up parlor visiting hours for the spirits of Dante, Michelangelo, Milton, and the biblical prophets in his later years, and is known to have told a visitor that a particular painting of his was well-liked by the Virgin Mary, and he knew it because she had told him so, a quick check with Alta Vista and Google does not allow me to verify Dr. Moss' story.

Whether that's an indictment of Dr. Moss, or of today's version of the internet, who can say? But no matter. Like Bob Welch wrote a century and a half after Blake's death,

[I]t’s a meaningless question To ask if those stories are right ’Cause what matters most is the feeling You get . . .

Did William Blake's hairs stand on end as he dined with Ezekiel? Does Margaret Garrett's rabid slide guitar give you the shivers? Are the two feelings related? A blog that is better able to come to its point than mine says that "Jesus on the Mainline" is about "uncomplicated access to spiritual guidance." But that's at best only partially right. What got me about Dr. Moss' story, and what gets me about the lyrics to "Jesus on the Mainline," is how both suggest that a comfortable and familiar relationship is possible with the deeply mystic. At least for some, anyway. I remain an atheist, though I've always said that just one ecstatic vision would transform me into the most pious of believers. But that golden and ethereal radiance has yet to flash at me through my windshield during my morning commute. No Virgin Mary no John the Baptist no Shiva, no Buddha, no nothing. On one level this is no surprise at all, but on another level, it's very disappointing. I'm more than a little jealous of anyone who can simply pick up their cellphone and get, not just canonical advice from a spiritual adviser, but also a personal interview with their own savior. America is not a Catholic nation, and it has never been one. But I think that the Catholic ideal of how you're supposed to contact the divine through appropriate channels is for the most part accepted by believers in our Protestant land. * Like, now you have your work cap on, now you have your Friday night drinking cap on, now you have your Sunday morning praying cap on. And each cap comes with a different superior you report to. I'm an atheist as I've said, but these Protestant ideals have still been transmitted to me. It's unavoidable. So it's not the idea that such a supercharged spiritual life can exist as opposed to the normal, um, everyday world of bodies that is so beguiling to me. It is that the transition between the two can be so seamless. One moment you're making breakfast. The next you're picking up the phone and talking to God. You don't have to be St. Bernadette of Lourdes, anyone can do it, if so touched. Don't need a cardinal, don't need a coach. This whole Jesus on the Mainline thing is very DIY, very punk. Very delta blues, too, if you think about the fact that there wasn't any kind of band vote needed when Robert Johnson made his decision down at the Crossroads. In other words, the whole thing is very Mr. Airplane Man, the deep soul of the blues and the buzzsaw noise of punk, Mississippi Fred McDowell and the Stooges, tell 'em what you want. And Tara McManus' angelic voice sweetly singing a third thing entirely, passion and inspiration illuminating the whole package, wrap it all up 'n' put it out on your own label, who cares if everyone thinks you're crazy or brilliant or both?

__________ * . . . even by the holy rollers and the born-agains, who despite the personal relationship with Jesus they'd been promised, still seem to conduct all their spiritual business with the mega-pastors and the mega-churches. . . .

https://lahistoriadelamusicarock.blogspot.com/2009/03/mr-airplane-man-jesus-on-mainline-from.html

File under: Picking up the Phone and Talking to God Rock

#Mr. Airplane Man #Jesus On The Mainline

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nonobadcat · 2 years ago

Note

Imagine AFO stealing a bunny(not rabbit) Quirk, and giving it to his pretty little wife so he’ll not only be able to pet his wife’s soft dangling ears, but his wife will end up having the urge to *ahem* multiply like bunnies.Thought that he might do that since he stole that wolf Quirk.

For those that don't know: the stolen wolf quirk Yokai mentioned is from chapters 20 and 36 of my 18+ only Fem!reader x yandere All For One story - "A Hypnotic Nightmare".

So we're talking fuwa-fuwa bunny girls, right?

If we're going for "long dangly ears" I would vote for the French lop. English lop ears are so long I could see them getting in the way AFO's proclivities and I'm not sure a man who stands 225cm tall should be giving his wife a dwarf bunny quirk like a Holland lop. Even with a size kink, that sounds... painful.

In the context of a yandere AFO, a bunny quirk makes a lot of sense. Bunnies are a highly social species. It's recommended that they be pair housed and families should not to leave them alone much longer than 4 hours without a friend or activity. Isolating someone under the influence of a quirk like that would be very effective at breaking them down so he can mold them to his tastes.

That said, sexually intact rabbits aren't always super friendly when they get hormonal. Since you are clearly not spayed in this scenario, I see AFO getting bit/scratched a lot.

So here is this man who has the world's most touchable waifu and you (said waifu) are suddenly much more violent towards him.

Cue AFO on the Google at 2am reading this:

"...Interact with your bunny every day so that they become your friend and will not see you as a threat entering their territory. Remember, your bunny is not being naughty or nasty, they are just trying to protect themselves. The best training tip is to use reward-based training in these situations. Never punish a bunny as it is confusing as she is only doing what is natural in protecting herself and it is likely to increase aggression. If your bunny won’t come near you, you’ll have to persuade her that coming to you is a really good thing. The easiest way is with food rewards..."

Can you imagine how this is gonna go? (≧ε≦)

You buried yourself behind the comforter, knees pulled tight to your chest. Blood shot eyes stared blankly at the sight before you.

"What are you doing?"

Sprawled across the plush bedroom carpet, your demonic captor gazed up at you though half lidded eyes. Clasped between the tips of his fingers, a piece of dried papaya taunted you.

"It occurs to me that been very neglectful of your new body's needs, my sweet pet." He leaned forward, stretching out his thick arm towards your dubious scowl. The scratches you'd given him last night lay red and puffy across his pale wrist. "It's quiet understandable that you'd be upset with me."

Oh? He really though that was why you were upset?

Being kidnapped and locked away in All For One's apartment had been its own nightmare before he forced the bunny quirk on you. It'd been one week since you woke up to long, velvety ears and a burning desire to dig up the carpet. Seeing your new rounder, softer features in the mirror was bad enough without your captor's lecherous leer burning down your neck. Glancing brushes against your cotton tail sent shivers up your spine. Greedy fingers pinched your cheeks and rubbed your ears at every opportunity while their master cooed on and on about how utterly touchable you were.

Whenever he reached out to pet you, you clawed him for his hubris. However, the way his laughter chased you from room to room left you with the distinct impression the violence only turned him on.

Though it all, the sadistic All For One revealed in the hell he'd thrust upon you.

Sure... your new bunny tummy seemed at odds with your tongue. Yes, many of your favorite foods now brought nothing but cramping and pain. Of course you'd want something to eat that didn't feel like trial by fire.

...but if he thought papaya bribes would fix the problem, he had another thing coming.

Your nose twitched. "You cannot be serious."

The white haired man shuffled closer, bringing the fruit within snapping distance of your mouth. "Try it. It's deli~cious ❤," he insisted in a cheerful sing-song.

Fuzzy ears pinned back across your skull as your eyes narrowed. A deep, stomach growl rippled across the room. Heat filled your cheeks.

All For One's knowing smile stretched one tooth wider.

Tentative fingers crept out towards the glossy treat. Your fur bristled. Eyes locked on the predator, you pinched the papaya from his grasp and fixed him with a sideways stare.

Red eyes glowed with pleasure. "Go on," he purred. "Try it."

Brining the chewy fruit to your lips, you nibbled one corner of the slice. Tangy sweet burst across your tongue. Your eyes popped wide as the flavor set your salivary glands ablaze. Pleasure rippled down your arms. All at once, you shoved the entire piece into your mouth.

"That's a good girl," you captor purred, holding out a second piece.

The seductive lilt in his words sent a cold drop of sweat rolling down your neck. With a pinched throat, you barely managed to swallow the fruit. "W-what are you up to?" you demanded.

He waved the next piece. "Desensitization to my presence and counter-conditioning to your lack of trust in me."

You snatched it from his hand and stared at him from below your lashes. Voice soft, you pleaded with him again: "If you want my trust, then let me go home."

He cocked his head, the edges of his grin pulling taunt. "You are home, pet."

You shivered, turning your body away from his hungry gaze.

He hummed, rising to his feet with a languid stretch. "Well, three years on a stone, I suppose."

As demon lord opened the bedroom door, he turned back to you with a teasing sneer. "Rabbits are social creatures, so do let me know when you start to feel lonely again. I'll be happy to give you all the affection you crave." Crimson heat flashed in his eyes. "In fact, be happy to accommodate all of your new body's urges."

Before you could say a word, the door to freedom clicked shut.

#afo x reader #all for one x reader #yandere shigaraki x reader #yandere x reader #all for one bnha #yandere all for one #yandere bnha #shigaraki x reader #bnha all for one #yandere mha #a hypnotic nightmare #bunny quirk #tw yandere #yandere afo #fem!reader

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magravenwrites · 2 years ago

Text

The One Where Ethy Finds Out:

Part 3:

Click on the moodboard for better quality! Pictures sourced off Google images and Pinterest, but the moodboard is of my own creation.

Finally here's part 3 to @emilyhufflepufftlk 300 follower challenge. I got there eventually, sorry its so late! 🙈

A massive thank you to @axe-does-writing for beta reading this for me, you're amazing! 💕

Warnings: angst, fluff, spoilers for Finan's past, Finan's undeserving complex.

Part 1 Part 2

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The sun was setting by the time Finan, with the help of a few cups of ale, had gathered enough courage to even contemplate approaching Ethy that evening.

The two bonfires had been blazing away for the past hour or so, the livestock had already been driven between the two fires and put back in their pens, allowing for feasting, drinking and dancing to take place for the rest of the night. No doubt there would be a few sore heads in the morning, his own included.

Finan had been in a sombre mood since Uhtred had talked to him that afternoon, and all he had managed to do in the time since then, was work himself into a state of constant anxiety. He was halfway down his fourth, or was it his fifth? cup of ale already, and had been watching Ethy as she laughed and danced about the flames. His breath had caught in his throat when he had first caught sight of her that evening. She had chosen to wear one of her best dresses. It was one of his favourites on her, the light blue of the fabric perfectly matched her eyes. A flower crown rested upon her head, and the way the oranges of the setting sun and the dancing flames shone off her hair made it look like she was glowing. She looked stunning; he was content to watch her having her fun for a time, with a content smile on his lips, despite the guilt and nerves that were tugging at his heart. He couldn't bring himself to ruin her good mood just yet.

But as the evening wore on, and the further down his ale he got, he realised the more he needed to talk to her, and that ever-present feeling of anxiety came clawing back, turning his stomach.

As the next dance came to its end and Ethy moved away to retrieve a drink, Finan decided that it was now or never.

Downing what remained of his own drink and casting the cup aside, he started making his way over to her. He swore he couldn't remember being this nervous before, even before marching off into battle.

She must have sensed his movement out of the corner of her eye; he was only a few paces away from her when she turned to look directly at him. He could only watch as the beaming smile that had occupied her face only moments before fell, replaced by what he could only hope was just a look of nerves. He absolutely hated it.

He wanted to be the one who made her smile, he wanted to be the reason she laughed until her eyes watered and her cheeks ached, and the reason her eyes lit up whenever he was close. He wanted to be the one she turned to when she needed comfort, to be there for her and celebrate their triumphs together, to simply wake up and fall asleep next to her. He wanted to be by her side through it all.

He wanted everything with her.

No matter how selfish he knew that was, especially given what he was about to tell her. He had no right to wish for anything beyond forgiveness at this point.

Either way, he knew he still had to tell her, it wasn’t for him to decide what she deserved. That was up to her now.

She offered him a small smile as he came to a stop a couple of paces from her. He returned the smile, both of them knowing what was coming next wouldn't be easy.

"Can I talk to ya? In private?" He added, eyeing the group of elderly women who stood not far behind Ethy's left shoulder, not-so-subtly eavesdropping on their conversation.

She turned to follow his gaze, seeing the problem, before she faced him once more.

"Sure." She nodded, walking away to the far end of the field where there were fewer people, not looking back to see if he followed.

They stopped about halfway down the field, the blazing fires still in view, the noise of the festivities echoed faintly down to them, but they were far enough away not to be interrupted.

Ethy turned to him, a faint blush on her cheeks, avoiding his eye.

"Ethy, I…"

"Wait", She interrupted. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I asked you to talk about something you were not ready to talk of, and I shouldn't have pushed you to. It was insensitive of me. Heaven knows you were patient enough with me! I am sorry - truly I am. You do not have to tell me anything you do not want to, but I will be here to listen when and if you are ever ready to do so…"

Shaking his head at her, he gently took her by her shoulders to steady her. How could she believe she was at fault for any of this? It was his own behaviour that was out of line for the way he reacted, and yet she was the one who felt the need to apologise to him.

"None of this is your fault, ya don't need to apologise for anythin'." He told her vehemently, his eyes boring into hers.

She merely blinked back at him, not expecting such a strong reaction. Whatever had been bothering him, it had him tense, coiled like a spring. She could sense the anxiety rolling off him in waves.

Realising he had been staring at her for a little longer than was probably appropriate, and noticing his grip on her shoulders had become a little too tight, Finan let her go, took a step back and cleared his throat.

"What can I do to help?" She asked, her eyes rounded with concern.

He ran a hand through his beard as he recentered himself.

"Just listen to what I have to tell ya' and don't ask questions until I'm done. And know that whatever you decide after this… I'll completely understand."

"Ok…" She agreed hesitantly.

With a final nod of his head, Finan steeled himself, his eyes darting from her toward the festivities at the far end of the field, not sure he could look her in the eye as he laid his secrets out for her.

"My past - my life in Ireland was not a pretty one, and I have done some stupid and unforgivable things." He paused, trying to collect himself. He looked down when he felt something brush against his hand to find Ethy had taken it in her own, giving it a soft squeeze. His gaze rose to her face, where a soft encouraging smile pulled at her lips. He could do this. He had to do this. For her. He squeezed her hand in return.

"I was a Prince in one of the kingdoms, I was set to inherit the throne. I did no' want any of it. My whole life had already been planned out for me. I had an arranged marriage, to a lass named Riona, we were both young and neither of us loved each other, but we had our duty to fulfill and she was a kind woman…" his heart dropped when he felt Ethy's hand pull from his own.

"You were married?" She gasped.

"Aye", He huffed, his heart constricted knowing that what he was to tell her next would only hurt her more. "Married with two sons." Tears rose unbidden to his eyes at the thought of the two young boys he had left behind, forced to grow up fatherless, if his brother had allowed them to survive. All because of his stupid mistakes. His own selfish heart. He gritted his teeth to stop the tears from falling, swallowing the lump he could feel starting to form in his throat. He had more of his story to tell yet.

He watched as Ethy's breathing picked up slightly, her eyes fixed on a patch of grass at her feet. She dragged her bottom lip through her teeth, as she was often prone to do when in deep thought. Eventually, she looked at him, opening her mouth as if to ask something before seeming to think better of it, letting out a sigh. Her arms folded across her middle, and after a minuscule nod of her head, her gaze settled somewhere over his left shoulder, not quite looking directly at him, but it was enough that he took it as his sign to continue.

"Like I said, neither of us loved each other… she did no' deserve what I put her through. None of 'em did." His accent grew thicker, regret dripping from every word.

"A few years down the line, my brother, Conall, introduced us to his new wife; A dairy maid from one of the local towns. Her name was Aine. I fell so hard and fast for her. We were so convinced we loved each other. But I was young, and I was a fool. A stupid, stupid fool. We knew we could no' be happy together in the castle. So we made plans to run away together. We headed south, we lasted three days before they caught us and dragged us back in chains." His expression turned dark in that moment, the demons that had been torturing him for so long showing themselves in his face.

"I abandoned everythin' - my duty, my wife, my sons. And for what? A selfish, hopeless dream of a life I knew would not last." Bitterness laced his words.

"What happened? After you were caught?" Ethy asked shyly, almost dreading the answer.

"We were imprisoned for a time." He started flatly. Watching his memories play back behind his eyes, it was almost as if it had happened to someone else. But the feelings were still raw, even now. He clenched his eyes shut, wanting to banish the images from his mind.

"We were eventually dragged into the court, where I was made to watch as she was flogged. They would not stop, no matter how much I begged them to, they did not stop. They eventually slit her throat. My brother called it mercy - an execution for treason. Her screams will forever haunt me. I did that to her. It was my actions that resulted in her death. He took the crown and my wife as his own. I don't know if he kept my sons alive or not - they would have a rightful claim to the throne, with luck they might have been put in a monastery somewhere. You already know how he saw fit to punish me." The tears were freely running down his face now, a cynical smile curling at the corner of his lips.

A look of realisation swept over Ethy's features. "The slave ship."

He nodded. "Aye. Three Winters pulling at the oar, spending every minute regretting and paying for what I did. It didn't feel like enough. It will never be enough."

A silence fell between the two of them, even the noise from the festivities seemed dimmed.

Ethy sighed through her nose, and turned to face him fully, her arms still crossed protectively across her chest. The shock that had filled her eyes had mostly drained away, leaving behind a sadness that Finan didn't know how to respond to. He looked away.

"Finan, look at me." She asked gently.

"Look at me." She repeated, firmer this time when he refused.

As soon as his eyes connected with hers, he saw a fire ignite behind her irises he had not expected. She took a step closer to him.

"This is why you ran from me, wasn't it? Not because you did not wish to tell me, but because you are still carrying the guilt of what happened on your shoulders. Because you think that you do not deserve happiness, even when it is standing right in front of you, just waiting for you to take it."

It would never cease to amaze him how effortlessly she could get straight to the heart of the matter. How it was that she could cut through all the information he had loaded her with, for her to shove aside her own feelings and opinions and hit the nail on the head so accurately.

He did not know what to say to her, after letting the floodgates open, it was as if all his words had finally run dry. Any words he had thought to say only got stuck in his throat. So he remained silent, his jaw clenching so tight it was almost painful.

Ethy finally took that final step closer to him, so close that he had to look down to see her face properly. Her arms unfolded and she placed both hands on his cheeks, her thumbs wiping away the tears that had settled there. He could not help but lean into her touch.

"The man I know deserves more happiness than I can ever express. The man who is so brave, so loyal. The man who loves with such a big heart and so wholly that he would sacrifice everything to protect his friends and family. That man does not deserve punishment or to spend the rest of his days alone. He deserves every ounce of respect, adoration and love. And I give that to you unreservedly and in abundance."

Finan could hardly believe what he was hearing, his heart racing hardly daring to hope that after everything… his breath stuttered at the thought. He gently grabbed her wrists, leaning his face away from her grasp.

"I abandoned my family - that is no small thing." He reminded her. Fresh tears welled in his eyes, and yet he could not help the small spark of hope he could feel arising in his chest.

Ethy only calmly held his gaze, no trace of bitterness, hatred, or blame to be found.

"And would you abandon us? My family and I? Your friends?" She let him hold her wrists between his hands, his grip turning as hard as his gaze at her question.

"There is no force on heaven or earth that could get me to leave your side."

That was a vow she believed.

She nodded with a smile. "I know." She whispered. "Finan - I will not hold you to a mistake you made in your youth, especially one made in the name of love. We both know what it is like to be held captive to our fates, to do our duty. Now we are free to go where we please, to do as we please." She shifted her hands so that she held his between her own, squeezing them tight. "To love where we please."

His heart was fit to burst, tears falling freely down his face as disbelief drowned him. He held nothing but love for this unbelievable, incredible, beautiful woman before him.

"Thank God for you." He breathed.

Ethy laughed, a few tears of her own burning in her eyes. He looked as if the world had been taken off his shoulders, his relief palpable.

Finan bent his head forward, resting his forehead against hers, eyes falling closed, as they both took in the moment.

"I love you", He heard her whisper. He opened his eyes, finding her already watching him, at this distance, he was able to find every shade of blue in her eyes.

"And God only knows how much I love you, mo grá."

And he could no longer contain himself. He leant in, crashing his lips to hers in a fierce kiss, pouring every emotion he could not put into words into the action. One of his hands moved to cradle the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her hair and her flower crown became askew at the movement.

She responded to the kiss with equal passion, her now free hand gripping his shoulder to steady herself. She could taste the remainder of sweet ale on his lips, mixed with the salt of his dried tears, but it was perfect nonetheless. Neither of them wanted to be the first to part.

Eventually, the need to breathe started burning their lungs, forcing them to part. They remained close, he nuzzled his nose against hers, their laboured breathing mingling in the space between them and a grin spread across his lips as he observed the pretty shade of pink she had turned. He stole another peck from her. And another, and another. Absorbed in the taste of her sweet lips.

As he was about to steal another kiss from her, he felt Ethy’s fingers press against his lips, preventing him from going any further.

She giggled as he proceeded to pout against her fingers.

"I believe you still owe me a dance." She raised an eyebrow at him.

He hummed, pulling up to his full height and moving to straighten the crown of flowers that still lay crooked on her golden locks.

"I suppose I do." He smirked, his tone low, and rich as velvet. With exaggerated movements he stepped backwards, immediately missing her warmth, he bowed low and offered his hand.

"Would you do me the honour?"

Ethy failed miserably at containing her smile at his antics. With a laugh she curtsied, delicately placing her hand in his own. "I would love to."

She turned, pulling him by the hand to walk back up the field toward where the two fires were still blazing, the flames reaching toward the inky sky now filled with stars. She stopped abruptly when he did not move, and instead, he pulled her backwards, causing her to trip lightly into his chest.

"Should we not go back to the festival?" She asked in confusion.

He shook his head lightly. "I have everythin' I need righ' here."

He lifted their joined hands, and turned her so that she spun under his arm, before coming to rest in front of him, his other arm coming to rest comfortably around her waist. They shared a soft smile.

He held her close as he began to rock them back and forth, dancing together to music only they could hear.

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

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!

Tags:

@emilyhufflepufftlk @morosemagick @solinarimoon @axe-does-writing @aconundrumofthings @calicoevening72 @lauwrite1225

#ems300 #The One Where Ethy Finds Out #the last kingdom #tlk #tlk season 5 #finan #finan the agile #finan x oc

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haadeswrites · 3 years ago

Text

Elysium

god this fic took forever i’m so sorry!! but hey, first fic on the new blog! <33 also y’all should really thank @iwaasfairy who listened to me complain about this fic for a solid month, she’s the reason it got finished

Cult leader Oikawa Tooru x female reader

tw: indoctrination, extremely dubious consent, blood, yandere themes, religious themes, minor character death, implied abuse & drug use, mild smut, nsfw

The island itself is breathtaking

Pristine beaches with gleaming white sand, vast swathes of lush, green rainforest and waterfalls that cascade into shimmering pools of crystal clear water. Untouched, undisturbed; a paradise. At least, that’s how Ryuji had described it.

Paradise, but only in the sense that a gingerbread cottage in the middle of the woods is paradise to a lost and hungry child.

He hadn’t been wrong. Bare feet sink into soft, white sand as you climb from the boat - the warmth just toeing the line between pleasant and burning. Gentle waves ebb and flow behind you, and there’s a light breeze that kisses your skin, the taste of seasalt carrying in the wind. Home, it seems to sing.

A laugh sounds somewhere in the distance, yet the only other figure on the beach is a man walking steadily towards you. He smiles when he sees you’ve noticed him; friendly, non-threatening. It’s a far cry from the swarming welcoming committee you’d been dreading, and you wonder if that’s somehow intentional as well.

As the boat pushes back out to sea he comes to a stop before you, “I’m Makki,” he says, pushing the fringe of his hair back and giving you a not-so-subtle once over. Whatever he sees must meet approval, because his grin only widens, “Welcome to the Commune.”

Ryuji wasn’t wrong; the island is a beautiful, deadly thing.

—

You’d never heard of the Commune before the phone call.

And maybe that shouldn’t be so surprising. You’ll be the first to admit you’re hardly an expert, but from what you do know, groups like the Commune – cults – don’t spring up out of thin air and start broadcasting their mistreatment and systematic abuse.

They’re not the kind of people that have sweet old ladies clutching their pearls and mothers shepherding their children away – at least, not in the beginning. Not entirely. They’re not out to recruit extremists to further their cause, they choose to prey on the vulnerable, the lost and the disillusioned. Those easily manipulated. You suspect that’s why when you google the Commune, all you find is a website for what essentially looks like a long term luxury wellness retreat.

‘The Commune is about healing and harmony, about returning to nature, supporting one another to forge a brighter, more holistic future together… a self-sufficient community living apart from technology and other evils of modern society.’

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you scroll through. There’s a whisper of philosophical teachings woven throughout, a page dedicated to their founder, Oikawa Tooru – smiling handsomely in every single picture, because what would a burgeoning cult be without a charismatic leader – but there’s not enough.

So here you are, on an island hundreds of miles away from home living amongst strangers; because Ryuji wouldn’t have sounded so terrified if this was just some alternate, free-loving bunch of hippies.

And even with all that he’d told you, everything you thought you’d be prepared for, the Commune is like nothing you could’ve imagined.

Makki introduces you to Asuka, a woman only a few years older than yourself, dark haired and stunningly beautiful, and winks as he tells her to take you under her wing. She smiles brightly, eyes twinkling, and pulls you into a heartfelt hug – as if you’ve known each other your whole lives.

“We’re so glad you’re here!” she beams.

You’d like to hate her.

It feels like you're supposed to, sometimes; when she gets that dreamy look in her eyes and starts talking about Oikawa and the Commune and how lucky everyone here on the island is. Yet there’s something about her – the genuine warmth she emanates maybe, or the kindness in her eyes – that makes it difficult for you not to like her.

“You should come to the gathering tomorrow,” she hums idly one afternoon, maybe a week or so after your arrival. The two of you are sitting on the edge of the pier, legs dangling down into the water, tangled fishing nets to be repaired strewn between you.

“I always go,” you reply.

She laughs, fixing you with a knowing look, “And sit right at the very back, all but running off the moment we finish?”

And your traitorous heart skips a beat.

“It’s okay to take things slowly,” she says. “We understand that being a part of the Commune is a big change from the life you knew, and that not everybody is able to see what we see and embrace those changes.”

Asuka sets down the knot she’s working through and reaches for your hand, a gentle smile on her face, “But you shouldn’t be afraid. You’re meant to be here, I can feel it. You just need to stop fighting against it; surrender yourself to us, to the island, and everything’ll make sense, I promise.”

It’s dangerous territory. One wrong word could set off alarm bells, yet you can’t help pressing just a little.

“Do you ever miss it, then? Life outside the Commune?”

Your family. Friends. The life you left behind before you came here to be brainwashed like all of the others.

“Why would I?” she answers without missing a beat, and it’s hard to ignore the bitter flicker of disappointment you feel at her answer. “The island provides for us, we don’t have to spend our days selling off tiny pieces of ourselves just to make ends meet. It’s paradise here, and we have Oikawa to thank for that. Why would I ever want to go back?”

Silence falls between you as you struggle to think of something to say to salvage the situation. Yet Asuka isn’t even looking at you, instead staring out at the water with a strangely pensive expression.

“Did you know I was married once?” The words seemingly out of the blue, you can only shake your head. For a moment, she doesn’t reply, watching as the waves rise and crash offshore. And then;

“I was young, eighteen or so, fresh out of high school and he was a small town cop.” Her eyes flicker to yours, and your heart clenches at the sadness and pain echoing there. “I thought he was a good man, once upon a time.”

A chord strikes deep, your chest tightening involuntarily at her words. It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same, and yet…

No. You stop the errant thought in its tracks. Groups like the Commune prey on the vulnerable, you know this. People like Ryuji, like Asuka, like–

Her fingers squeeze around yours, pulling you back to the present. “Come to the gathering tomorrow. Listen to Oikawa, it’ll help.”

—

She doesn’t give you a choice in the matter – dragging you by the hand to sit right at the front of the gathered crowd that very night.

Oikawa’s handsomer up close; tall and dark haired with pretty eyes and long, sweeping lashes that frame delicate cheekbones, it’s not hard for you to see how a man like him has amassed such an impassioned following.

Once he starts actually speaking, however, you realise that his good looks and charming smile are just the tip of the iceberg. Oikawa’s utterly captivating as he preaches about the cycle of life and death and the paradise that awaits his faithful. Passionate and engaging, he speaks like he truly believes every word of the lies he’s spreading.

And Asuka, her friends, the others gathered, they eat up every word like it’s gospel truth, resounding cheers and thunderous applause deafening around you. In the midst of the rapturous din, Oikawa’s eyes flit to yours.

Slowly, he smiles – a dazzling grin that makes your stomach flip – and everything; Asuka, the noise, the others swarming around you, it all fades away.

For one electrifying heartbeat, you’re frozen in place. Just you and Oikawa, trapped in the pull of each other’s gaze.

—

You can’t forget the reason you came.

But it’s… difficult, in a way you struggle to understand. You only have one purpose for being here, one goal; find Ryuji and bring him home.

And yet, some days it’s like there’s a fog in your mind, and you have to focus to remember why you’re here at all. You catch yourself laughing with Asuka and her friends, the days passing by in a blur of endless, easy distractions.

It barely feels like work when you’re sitting under the shade of the trees, eating the fruits you’ve picked by hand – ripe and sweet, unlike anything you’ve ever tasted – diving off waterfalls into the crystalline water and meandering down the shore collecting seashells. Even when you are working, mending clothes or cooking with the others, it fills you with a sense of contentment you can’t quite explain.

Like you’re a part of something bigger. Like you’re doing something that matters.

Ryuji becomes a distant thought. A whisper in the back of your head, a niggling in your gut, easily brushed aside and ignored until there’s a moment of quiet. In the dead of night, the balmy summer night’s breeze kissing your bare skin, you lie awake, lost in memories of the last time you’d seen him.

Fists angrily pounding at your door, the yelling that gave way to sobs and the hoarse, desperate pleas that followed. Ryuji’s face; pupils blown wide and eyes rimmed in red, darting restlessly around as he held you too tight and begged–

Rolling over in bed, you gaze out your window at the star flecked sky, the shadows of the forest that lie at your doorstep, and wonder what it is that scares you more; that you’ve lost track of the days you’ve been here, and saving Ryuji is starting to feel like an afterthought, or that you could so easily forget all of it, find a place here in the Commune and be happy.

‘The island, it–it fucks with your head.’

Ryuji’d told you that, and you’d brushed it off as paranoia. You need to find him. Find him and get the hell outta dodge.

You can deal with the fallout later.

—

Kiyoshi.

He’d mentioned the name a few times amidst his rambling – a friend of his on the island. You’re annoyed with yourself for not thinking of it sooner, however much like Ryuji himself, trying to focus and remember the name is like wading through thick mud.

Once you do, though, finding him amongst the hundred and fifty or so inhabitants is the easy part.

There’s no strict division between genders within the Commune, however Kyoshi, despite his somewhat lean stature, is among the builders of the island and his path doesn’t often cross with yours.

From Asuka you find out that he’s been a part of the Commune for years now, before even she joined, and that he mostly sticks to himself, though you’ve seen him chatting quietly to a few of the other men, a perpetually angry looking blonde in particular.

It’s the last part that piques her interest, “Why’re you so curious, anyway?” she asks, her face lighting up as a sudden thought occurs. “Do you want me to introduce you two? To be honest, I didn’t think he’d be your type, if you’re interested, though…”

Cheeks aflame, you’re quick to shut her down. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve just… seen him around and we’ve never really spoken, I guess.”

A lame excuse, though mercifully she lets the subject drop without too much prodding.

Therein, of course, lies the problem. Walking up to Kyoshi and casually trying to drop Ryuji into the conversation without raising red flags is risky, but what other options do you have? You’ve already spent too much time on this island.

Although, maybe Asuka has the right idea.

While you hadn’t been lying when you said you weren’t interested in Kyoshi in that way, nobody else knew that. Who would really look twice at the shy newbie striking up a conversation with the quiet, easygoing man? He wasn’t unattractive per se, and from the brief interactions you’d seen of him, he seemed kind enough.

You have enough patience (barely) to wait for dusk the following night. There’s a celebration, something about the full moon and a blessing on the island and the Commune– you hadn’t really been paying attention when Oikawa had spoken about it. Still, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. With the fire pits crackling, and the dancing and music and the sweet honey wine flowing freely, nobody will be paying too much attention to what you’ll be doing. Hopefully, the alcohol will also serve to lower Kiyoshi’s guard, and perhaps if you’re really, really lucky, loosen his tongue as well.

Of course, you’re not banking on him telling you exactly where Ryu is or what happened to him– and that’s assuming he actually knows – but at this point you’ll take anything over the nothing you currently have. A tiny slip up, that’s all you’re asking for.

As the sun descends beyond the horizon, you play your role well, laughing and chatting amongst friends, sipping carefully at the cup of wine in your hand as you wait for an opening. And perhaps it’s your nerves working against you, but you find that it’s not just Kiyoshi your attention is drawn to.

Up on the shore, away from the rabble, Oikawa lounges back with a cup of the same honeyed wine you’re pretending to drink. For the most part he seems deep in conversation with Iwaizumi, his right hand, but every once in a while he glances up, letting his gaze roam over the crowd of his followers.

Every inch a king and his general.

And it would seem benevolent, if not for the strange smile he wears – the one that widens when his eyes catch yours.

Swallowing tightly, you force yourself not to dwell on it, to ignore the odd sensation curling in your gut and the way your skin prickles under his attention. Now is not the time to lose focus.

Pushing all thoughts of Oikawa aside, you subtly scan the beach once more, only to find that Kiyoshi’s moved, sitting now on a piece of old driftwood near the bonfire. Alone for the first time tonight.

Your legs are moving before the thought even fully registers.

“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask, gesturing to the empty space on the log beside him.

Kiyoshi smiles, the laugh lines at corners of his eyes crinkling pleasantly, and shakes his head, “Not at all.”

“Thanks.”

Taking another sip of your wine, you will your shoulders to relax, your racing pulse to slow. This has to seem natural, and so you force yourself to hold your tongue, let your head loll back and breathe deep, soaking it all in. You can hear the others in the distance, the music and the dancing, the happy laughter and shouts that beckon – you want to go join them. Even your blood seems to hum, a call of something other pulsing through your veins.

But you pay it no mind. There are more important things to worry about tonight.

Indeed, steel blue eyes have been appraising you curiously for a while now. “This is your first Lunar blessing, isn’t it?” Kiyoshi asks after a moment.

You nod, humming in agreement. Less than a month; you’ve been here less than a month. Is that a good thing?

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

A harmless enough question, and again you nod your head. “Yeah, it’s…” you pause, searching for words that won’t sound hollow. “It’s paradise. I feel like I need to pinch myself just to make sure it’s real.”

He smiles gently. “But?” he probes.

Grimly, you wonder whether Kiyoshi’s usually this perceptive, or if you’re just a really terrible actor. In a way, you suppose it really doesn’t make a difference; you’ve come too far to turn back now – at least not without raising suspicion.

So you lie with a truth, and pray that it works.

“I had a friend I was supposed to meet here,” you confess quietly, gazing not at him but the crackling flames of the bonfire, the burning embers carried off into the night. “He was the one who said I should come, but now I’m here and he’s not and every time I catch myself enjoying this–”

“You feel guilty,” he surmises, cutting you off. “Because he’s not here to enjoy it with you.”

Wordlessly, you nod – and maybe it isn’t so much of an act when your eyes begin to glisten, your smile wavering.

Kiyoshi’s silent for a moment, and you take another sip of the honey wine to hide your nerves. “You shouldn’t, you know,” he says eventually. “Feel guilty, I mean. You belong here, with the Commune. You’re happy here. Paradise… isn’t for everybody.”

He doesn’t say it to be cruel, more like he’s simply stating a fact, and somehow that makes it all the more unnerving. And it’s nothing you haven’t listened to Oikawa preach about time and time again. The Commune is for the devoted, the faithful – the lucky few – and you’ve never thought too hard about what he’d meant by that.

The Commune’s small, maybe a hundred and fifty or so people on the island. There’d been no initiation, no test of faith or trial period you’d had to pass when you arrived – at least, none that you’d been aware of. You simply stepped off the boat and they’d welcomed you with open arms.

An uneasy sensation settles into your gut, goosebumps prickling at your skin despite the heat of the midsummer night.

That… doesn’t make sense. It can’t. Absolute control’s too important in groups like this, they couldn’t just let anyone–

Kiyoshi speaks again, his calm voice pulling you from your thoughts. “What was his name?”

You blink at him slowly – stupidly. “Sorry?”

“Your friend,” he clarifies. “What was his name?”

“Oh, um- Ryuji.”

Kiyoshi’s brow furrows in thought for a moment, but he merely shakes his head, “Doesn’t ring a bell, but like I said, not everyone who arrives stays with us for long.”

He looks you right in the eye as he says it.

You don’t understand the cold, foreboding that seeps through your veins, because he’s lying. He has to be.

Ryuji was here. They were friends, Ryu’d told you that–

Why did you think this stupid plan would work anyway? That he’d tell you anything, much less the truth when this whole fucked up island is full of liars and those too indoctrinated to know the difference?

“You alright?” he asks when abruptly, you shoot to your feet beside him.

And it takes every ounce of willpower you have left to force an easy smile to your lips, raising your cup just a fraction, “Yeah, just gonna go get a refill. Thanks for the talk, Kiyoshi.”

Whether he notices that your wine’s barely touched or not, you don’t care – not as you turn on your heel without another word and head back up the beach.

Your head is pounding, your body trembling – you don’t hear the call of your name until a hand reaches out and grasps at your wrist, spinning you around.

Asuka greets you with a wide grin, Makki and a tall, broad shouldered man you think is called Mattsun standing either side of her – the former’s arm slung casually over her shoulder. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” she says. “Come on, we’re gonna go swimming, it’s so pretty out there!”

You glance out towards the ocean. Moonlight bathes the inky blue water, light shimmering off the rippling tide; some of the others are already out there, splashing amongst the waves.

“Clothing optional, of course,” Makki laughs, and Asuka tugs on your wrist once more.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

But you shake your head, slowly pulling your hand from her grip, “I’m not feeling great, I think I’m gonna head back.”

Asuka frowns, concern marring her pretty features. “Are you okay? Do you need us to call Mizo–”

“No,” you say, cutting her off. Healer Mizoguchi is the last person you need to see right now. “I just– I just need to go lie down for a bit. You guys go have fun – enjoy the blessing, I’ll be fine.”

Makki and Asuka share a fleeting look, but it’s Mattsun who interjects before either one of them can speak, “I’ll walk you back, then.”

Your stomach churns. It doesn’t sound like a suggestion.

And the smart thing to do would be to accept his help; the walk from the beach to your villa isn’t far, and while you’re not as familiar with Mattsun as you are with Makki or Asuka, it’s not like he’s going to hurt you or anything, but–

“Really– you don’t need to, it’s fine,” you smile weakly, shuffling back as he reaches to offer you his arm. “Go swim, I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

Mattsun shrugs easily enough, falling back into line with the other two – yet there’s something in the way he grins and holds your gaze for a beat longer. A glimmer of amusement, as if there’s some joke you're not a part of. “I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.”

The heat that floods your cheeks clashes uncomfortably with the cloying heaviness in your stomach, but somehow you manage to stutter out one last goodbye before turning back to scamper off in the direction of your room.

–But not to lie down.

There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the full moon’s bright. No need for a torch, not unless you decide to venture into the heart of the forest.

You’ve been a fool. Kiyoshi, Asuka, Makki, Mattsun; you can’t trust any of them to help you, even unwittingly. Ryuji’s here on the island – somewhere – and every second that slips away, every second that you allow yourself to forget puts him in further danger.

And so you cling to your discomfort, ground yourself in it. The prickling sensation at the back of your neck, the tightness in your chest as you slip past your villa, keeping low and quiet – they’re a reminder that there is something insidious here on the island, that you have to get out.

You and Ryuji.

He’s here. Away from the others, kept under lock and key as punishment, or maybe being forced to undergo whatever kind of glorified brainwashing they’ve got going on, but here. You need to be smart about this, because while you don’t intend to stop until you find him, tonight will be your best shot – while everyone’s distracted down on the beach.

For the first time in a long time, it feels like you have a clear head.

Creeping through the underbrush, you steer clear of the well trod pathways that lead towards habitation. You’ve been there, and to the docks, and the river.

If they’re still keeping him here (and they are, you refuse to entertain the possibility that it could be otherwise) then it’s not somewhere out in the open. A bird cries out in the distance shattering the calm of the night, and you flinch – but it only serves as another reminder that your time tonight is limited; you cannot afford to delay. You wrack your brain, trying to dredge up memories of the last few weeks, surely you must have seen something–

“Lost?”

The single word, spoken in a deep, gruff voice has your blood running cold.

Slowly, you turn.

Iwa stands behind you in the thicket, his face utterly impassive. Briefly, you contemplate whether it’s worth trying to bluff your way out of this, but Iwa’s eyes narrow, flashing in the dim light and you think better of it.

A sigh escapes you, your shoulders deflating. “Where is he– Ryuji?” you ask; a whisper rather than a demand.

Iwa’s expression gives nothing away. Did he know, or have you handed him the smoking gun of a crime that’d fallen through the cracks? Does it even matter anymore? You’re just–

You’re tired.

Exhausted. In the space of a few moments all of that shining determination and resolve; it fled, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. This has to end, you can’t keep fighting against them forever. You can’t keep drowning in this guilt, feeling torn every second that you spend here on this stupid island. You just want to find Ryuji and go home.

… Right?

A tense beat passes as Iwa appraises you, and then; “Come with me.”

The hand he places on your shoulder doesn’t give you much choice. His grip isn’t what you’d describe as gentle, yet he’s careful enough to make sure you don’t trip or stumble as he marches you north.

In the thick of the forest away from the beach, it’s eerily quiet. Every twig that snaps underfoot, every ragged breath you draw; it feels too loud. Out of place amongst the stillness of the midsummer night.

And isn’t it ironic, that for the first time since you set foot in this paradise, you feel like you’re trespassing?

A bead of sweat trickles down from your temple and your mind unwittingly drifts back to Mattsun and Makki. Are they still swimming with Asuka? Probably, you reason. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how long it’s been since you left them on the beach, but surely no more than an hour.

And strangely, like water drawn from the depths of a well, an image comes to mind; the four of you standing in the waves, you perched atop Mattsun’s shoulders, screaming and giggling in delight as Asuka tries to knock you down again, two sets of eyes watching from the shore…

You should have stayed on the beach.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask,” he replies drily – humouring you, you suppose.

Your lips quirk upwards for the briefest of moments. “What happens on the Lunar blessing? Asuka, the others– no one told me what it was.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer you immediately, but you feel his fingers reflexively tighten on your shoulder. Likely it wasn’t the question he was expecting; surely there were others that you could have asked – but you don’t really want the answers to those.

If you’re being led like a lamb to proverbial slaughter, what good would it do you to know it?

And yet as the seconds pass and no answer seems forthcoming from your captor, you resign yourself to the fact that your curiosity will remain unsated. You don’t even know what prompted you to ask in the first place; knowing Oikawa it’s probably some grand, meaningless spectacle. Pretty, hollow words spoken only to–

A heavy sigh draws you from your thoughts, and you falter in your step, almost tripping over your own feet in the process. Iwa’s quick to right you, urging you forward with a less than gentle nudge. “Walk straight,” he grunts, yet it lacks any true heat. Anticipation flutters through your veins, and he mutters a soft curse behind you. “Fine. It… it’s an exchange.”

An exchange? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Your eyebrows draw together, mouth opening to press the matter, but Iwa beats you to the punch.

“You’ll find out for yourself soon enough, now shut up.”

You have no response to that, so you do.

—

The two of you walk in silence for what feels like hours. Eventually, the terrain becomes steeper, the worn path you’re treading twisting and winding, and you realise you must be close to the mountains at the heart of the island.

As your breath comes in heavy pants, your legs beginning to ache, you can’t help but be lost in the beauty of it all.

The flora’s different here, unlike any you’ve seen before. Flowers bursting from the bark of towering trees, blooms of vibrant hues; reds and purples and soft, baby pinks. Even the vines at your feet curl amongst pretty white buds that gleam invitingly under the moonlight. Your jaw falls open as you gaze around in wonderment.

You forget why you’re walking, where it is that you’re heading. Iwa’s grip relaxes as a quiet gasp escapes you, and he doesn’t stop you when you stray from the path to take a closer look. You can’t resist reaching out to touch the silken petals, leaning in to smell their perfume. Soft and light and sweet, your eyes flutter shut, a smile creeping across your visage.

It reminds you of home. Not your actual home – the rundown, tiny shoebox apartment you gave up before you came here – but something deeper.

Home, like the long summer days spent playing in your parents’ backyard. Home, like afternoons curled up by the window, watching the rain come down in sheets outside.

Home, like the comfort of arms wrapped around you; two hearts beating in sync.

“C’mon,” Iwa interrupts after a minute or so, his voice a touch less gruff. “We’re almost there.”

Dazed, you find yourself nodding, allowing him to guide you back to the path. This time, he doesn’t grab you by the shoulder, seemingly content enough to walk by your side.

True to his word, it’s only another few minutes before you see it; a wooden villa, four times the size of your own and far, far grander, set amongst a clearing of trees on the mountainside. Confused, your eyes flicker from the villa to Iwa and back again. Gossamer curtains billow lightly in the breeze, a warm, inviting glow spilling from the open windows. Surely this cannot be where he meant to lead you… and yet he merely stands at your side, arms folded across his broad chest, watching you expectantly.

“You gonna make me carry you up there?” he asks, not unkindly.

Swallowing tightly, you shake your head.

Another glance, and you catch a shadow lingering by the window. Your heart skips a beat, apprehension curling in your gut as you begin to walk, every step feels less steady than the last. You’re almost glad when Iwa takes you by the arm; if only so that you have something to focus on other than the growing tightness in your chest. The villa, with its pretty flowers and airy, elegant grandeur is far from the isolated cell you’d been afraid of, yet the uncertainty of what you’re walking into eats at you all the same.

Is this where they’ve been keeping Ryu, or has he brought you here for another reason?

Nothing, however, can prepare you for what you find inside. Warm light emanates from lanterns that bathe the room, and your eyes widen as you stare around you.

Strange, gold carvings inlaid with mother of pearl decorate the thick, woodens support beams, a pot of incense burns on a table overflowing with fresh fruit. There’s a jug of the same honeyed wine you’d drank earlier in the night and two cups set on an ornate stand nearby – just within arms reach of one of the chaise lounges.

Iwa affords you little time to gape, drawing you further in. Silken tapestries hang from the walls – you’re pulled along too quickly to truly take note, but the brief glimpses you get hint at a story; a divine being cast from his home, lost and wandering.

It tugs at something buried within you, and uncomfortable, you tear your eyes away.

The two of you reach a closed door at the end of the hall, and Iwa pulls you to a stop, knocking once.

“Come,” a familiar voice calls.

You stiffen, though perhaps you should have foreseen this outcome. Who else would Iwa bring you to but to him? Distantly, you register his grip relaxing, the sound of the door sweeping open and his voice at your ear.

“Go on.”

And it’s funny, you think, how two halves of yourself can be so at odds with each other. Because while your stomach twists itself into knots, goosebumps prickling at your skin, your legs stumble forward of their own accord.

Two steps forward, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s a bedroom, that much you can deduce from the decor, but that’s not what captures your attention. Nor is it Oikawa, leaning against the bureau with a genial smile – at least not at first.

No. In place of a back wall, there’s open space, not so much as a panel of glass obstructing the view before you. And what a view it is; from this height you can see the sprawling forest below, the coastline dotted with bonfires and the moonlit ocean shimmering beyond. Where the floorboards end, there are steps, you realise as you unwittingly inch closer, leading to a cascading spring – likely fed from the waterfall you can hear rushing nearby.

How easy it would be to brush aside your worries, you think, to shed your clothes, slip into the cool, calm water and lose yourself entirely. Even amongst all you’ve seen and experienced on the island so far, this is incomparable.

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Oikawa murmurs, coming up behind you.

His voice startles you, yet when you turn, you find him not gazing out at the scenery but rather at you, that same strange, knowing smile curling at his lips.

“Some days, I admit, it’s hard to tear myself away,” he continues, unbothered by your stunned silence. “But even I can’t neglect my duties for too long.”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips. Confusion twists through you at the conversational tone, surely he hasn’t brought you here just to chat about the impressive views, yet there’s no hint of disapproval on his face, no indication that he’s anything less than pleased with you.

It’s unnerving to say the least, but you’ll play along with his game if that’s what Oikawa wants.

“Beautiful,” you say, though the words feel woefully inadequate even as you speak them.

He hums in agreement, something akin to pride flickers in his eyes at your assessment, “A labour of love, I suppose. But… everything you see here, everything I’ve built, it comes with a price. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter.

“Paradise,” he elaborates, his smile widening. “There’s no give without take. Those people down there,” he nods down at the beach, the tiny, ant-like figures still milling about, “the lost, the beaten, the abused – I gave them what they so desperately sought; a sanctuary. A life without struggle, without suffering.” He pauses for a moment, reaching forward to take your hand. You almost flinch, almost skitter across the room to put as much distance between you as you can, but you don’t–

His palm is warm as it envelops yours, a pleasant heat that seems to spread through your veins, easing your tense muscles. There’s nothing to fear from him, you’re safe with Oikawa.

“Aren’t you happy here?”

Yes.

“What about the price?” you ask instead, though it takes more concentration than it should to force the words out.

Oikawa’s thumb sweeps along the back of your hand. “I never said it was your price to pay,” he soothes.

There’s something wrong with that sentence, but another sharp knock at the door draws your attention before you can think too hard about it. You turn out of instinct, barely aware of the way his hand tightens fractionally around your own.

A single finger at your jaw coaxes your attention back to him. “If you built a paradise, wouldn’t you give whatever necessary to ensure it flourished?”

Oikawa stares at you expectantly, deep brown eyes searching your face as he waits for an answer. Agreement would be the logical choice – the one he seems to want from you – but even as your lips part, the only sound that escapes is a breathless, confused noise.

When you were a kid, maybe six or seven, your parents took you to the beach one day and you waded too far out into the water. The waves were bigger than you expected; all it took was one mistimed jump and you were dragged under.

It wasn’t for long, probably only seconds, and ultimately you were fine – but you remember those few seconds so vividly. The feeling of helplessly tumbling through the water, fighting to break the surface but not knowing which way was up. Your lungs crying out for oxygen, the disorientation and dizziness, the panic.

It feels like that now – like the floor’s dropped out from beneath you and you’re just hurtling through empty air, desperately trying to slow yourself down with nothing to grab onto.

None of this makes any sense. Your emotions are shot to pieces, too many parts of yourself being pulled in different directions and you’re not sure which ones you can trust anymore. How can you be? Oikawa’s still holding your hand, smiling at you, and you just want everything to stop for a second so you can right yourself and breathe–

The door opens.

Iwaizumi appears in your field of vision, dragging a bound, hooded figure behind him. And because this is all some big, cosmic joke, you get your wish. Both of them, actually.

Time slows.

Even with a burlap sack pulled over his head, you recognise the man Iwa shoves to the floor and sneers at.

Hundreds of miles, weeks of uselessly traipsing around this fucking island, and finally–

Finally, you’ve found Ryu.

There should be relief. Fear, considering his current state, yes, but Ryuji’s here and he’s alive and as the hood is ripped off his head Oikawa squeezes your hand and the only thing you feel is… anger.

Not a heated flash that surges through your blood. It’s slow and seething, insipid. You look at him, locked in place as empty, pleading eyes meet yours and all you can think is that all of this – everything – is his fault.

“Asuka told you why she came to me, didn’t she?” Oikawa asks.

Your brow furrows, why–why is he asking you that now, how did he even–

He slips closer behind you, letting your hand go in favour of your shoulder, his spare dragging lightly along the bare skin of your arm. “She was lost, in so much pain. The physical wounds, they heal after a while,” his voice is right in your ear, a low murmur that sends a shiver rippling down your spine.

It isn’t an unpleasant feeling.

“But the scars inside, well… sometimes those fester.”

Gagged and bound, kneeling at your feet, Ryu doesn’t even try to make a sound.

He’s thinner than you remember. Face gaunt and bruised; there’s a half healed, mottled yellow one painted across the left side of his jaw, one eye purple and swollen. You glance at Iwa, standing stoically behind him, muscular arms folded across his chest. His work, you wonder, or others as well? You notice the tear tracks running down his face, catching the light of the lanterns, but it’s as if you’re seeing it all through a thick pane of glass. None of it reaches you, there’s nothing but that simmering, ugly feeling in your gut.

Oikawa hums, “I told you that Paradise wasn’t for everyone. It’s a haven, yes, but there are those who simply… don’t belong.”

His body’s so warm, pressed up against yours. Fingertips graze along your side, and this time you don’t bother biting back that tiny, breathless moan. Iwa briefly smirks at it, but there’s no embarrassment. Why should there be? Your eyes flit back to Ryu, bowed on the wooden floor.

Another memory resurfaces; A sharp crack and a ringing in your ears, Ryuji, eyes bloodshot and glazed, falling to his knees, clutching frantically at the leg of your pants as endless apologies spill from his lips.

It wasn’t him. It was never him.

“He hurt you,” Oikawa purrs. “He kept hurting you, I saw it.”

The words wash over you like waves breaking on the shore, but you find yourself nodding anyway. It was the truth, wasn’t it? A thousand tiny hurts, piled up on one another until you finally broke.

And you’d still come when he’d called.

Listened to him when he’d begged you not to hang up the phone.

“Iwa.”

The brunet moves towards a grand chest of drawers pushed up against the western wall. An ornate dagger sits atop, strange and beautiful; the blade isn’t steel or any metal you’ve seen before, but some kind of black stone, the handle intricately carved ivory. You hadn’t even noticed it before, Oikawa’s room filled to the brim with odd trinkets and treasures, but now that you have, it’s hard to tear your eyes away.

Iwa takes it and carries it over towards the two of you, holding it with the utmost care.

“Obsidian,” Oikawa informs you as he accepts the blade from his friend, bringing it in front of you both to show it off. “Pretty, isn’t it?” And while you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his tone.

He isn’t wrong though.

Ever so carefully you reach out, the soft pads of your fingertips running along the obsidian surface, surprisingly cool to the touch. The razor sharp edges – wavy and asymmetrical, leading to a tapered point – you’re careful to avoid, almost positive you’d draw blood with the slightest touch.

“Take it,” he urges, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

Obediently, you turn your hand over, your fingers wrapping around the hilt when he presses it against your palm. And as long fingers curl around yours, you idly wonder how old the dagger is – there’s not so much as a scratch on it, yet there’s something about the weapon in your hand that feels ancient. It thrums under your combined touch.

Oikawa jerks his chin at Iwa, and with a short nod and one last, lingering glance cast your way, the latter exits once again.

Leaving you and Oikawa alone with Ryuji.

“It’s almost time,” he remarks – though time for what, you’re not entirely sure. His lips press against your hair, his arm dropping from your shoulder to your waist, drawing you flush against him. “I know why you came to me, the lies that led you here.”

Both of you turn your attention back to Ryuji at that, the bound man now shaking with the force of his muffled sobs, snot dripping from his nose. That bitter resentment rears its ugly head again, soothed only by Oikawa’s pacifying hum, his thumb now rubbing slow circles at your side. “Shh, I’m not angry – none of that matters now. You’ve found a home here, no? You want to stay on the island with me.”

You swallow, nodding your head rapidly. The thought of having to leave now, of being forced out after everything you’ve seen and felt and experienced here, you– you can’t fathom it. You don’t want to.

Ryuji’d wrought so much damage, but even before he’d swept through your life… had you ever been happy? Were you ever truly accepted – or loved, for that matter?

You can’t go back to that life. You won’t; he’ll have to drag you kicking and screaming from the shore. The Commune is your home, this is where you belong. Here, with Oikawa.

“Good girl,” he croons, another kiss pressed to the crown of your head. You beam at the praise and Ryuji crumples a little further. “Death begets life, you understand now, don’t you?”

You glance at the obsidian dagger in your hand and then at Ryu, beaten and bruised, bowed in forced supplication before you, and nod.

His fingers tighten around yours, “Then do it.”

Leaning forward, you reach for Ryu, fingers lightly trailing down his ruined cheek, curling at his chin to coax his head upwards. He squeezes his eyes shut, pain and regret etched over every inch of his face, but he doesn’t fight you.

Baring his throat to your dagger, Ryuji’s pleas take the shape of your name.

Muffled, thanks to the gag, but unmistakable. And for one single moment, you falter.

This… this is wrong; for all his faults, and god knows there were plenty, Ryu didn’t des–

A wave of calm washes over you, allaying your fears, your doubts. Your breath leaves you in a heavy gust, taking with it the tension in your shoulders, and Oikawa’s voice, smooth and honeyed, reaches your ears once more, “Nothing comes without a price, doesn’t he deserve to be the one to pay it?”

With your hand still tucked inside of his, your arm moves with a will of its own; slashing with inhuman grace.

The dagger cuts deep, Ryuji’s eyes snapping open in shock as a spray of warm blood hits you both. He chokes – a horrid, wet, gurgling sound – wide, pleading eyes frantically shifting between you and Oikawa. Every beat of his failing heart sends fresh blood spurting from the gaping wound. It drenches his front, splatters across your dress, your face, crimson pooling at the wooden floorboards at his knees. His mouth falls open and shut, trying and failing to form coherent sounds and you just stand there and watch, the dagger hanging limply at your side.

It doesn’t take long; seconds at the most.

Ryuji’s slumps to the floor, his body finally growing still as the light fades from his eyes. There’s a beat of absolute silence, and then–

Oikawa shudders behind you, a strangled, drawn out moan leaving his lips. You try to turn, but his arms lock around you, every muscle tensing, his back arching. The dagger in your hand grows hot, burning the soft skin of your palm, but with his fingers still tightly entwined with yours you can only whimper and endure it.

With a hoarse, guttural roar, a pulse of pure energy surges through the room like a shockwave. Every cell in your body lights up, electrified, buzzing; a dizzying euphoria unlike any you’ve felt before coursing through your blood.

Across the island, voices cry out in delight, a symphony of life. The trees tremble and shake, invigorated and renewed, fresh buds bursting from the forest floor, blooming under the light of the full moon.

The harvests flourish, even the river swells in response to the call.

Death begets life, just as he promised.

And with every inch of your body alight and singing with pleasure, you can barely think much less protest (and why would you want to?) as Oikawa roughly yanks you around, hungry lips crashing against your own as his fingers pull and tear at your bloodstained dress. He wastes no time with foreplay, and you suspect only begrudgingly takes a moment to hoist you up against him and carry you to his bed.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he hauls your hips to his, sheathing his cock inside of your warm, tight cunt with one savage thrust, but you don’t care.

Not as you cling to him, fingernails raking along his shoulders as he presses your thighs further apart so he can fuck you deeper. It’s hard and rough and brutal, yet you moan for him all the same, his name a prayer swallowed up by feverish, claiming kisses.

Tonight, bathed in blood and the soft glow of moonlight, you offer your god everything.

—

“Look, look!”

A small hand tugs at your skirt, and you glance down to find a little girl with pretty, dark curls holding up a crown of woven flowers.

“Do you like it?” she asks.

Carefully, you take it from her, bringing it closer to examine. She watches you intently as you study it, lifting it this way and that to appraise her work, humming thoughtfully for good measure. “I think it’s beautiful work,” you tell her after a long enough pause, and you can’t help but smile at the way she lights up, preening under your praise. “Why don’t you go show your mama? I’m sure she’ll be very impressed.”

The girl nods rapidly, thanking you before skipping off in the direction of her parents. The sun’s hanging low in the sky, the fires already being readied for the night ahead. You’re not unaware of the watchful gaze that carefully monitors your every move, and the moves of anyone who ventures too close by. Soon enough, you’ll return home to the heart of the island – anticipation fluttering in your belly at the thought of what awaits you – but for now, you let your feet sink further into the sand, closing your eyes as you bask in the lingering warmth of the setting sun.

At least until the sound of your name being called draws you back to the present. Yet it’s not Iwaizumi approaching, but rather Makki, two strangers trailing along behind him.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he grins, throwing a casual arm over your shoulders. “This is Kaneo,” he gestures to the man, “and his wife Manaka. They arrived this morning, I’ve been showing ‘em round.”

You turn to the couple, smiling sweetly as you extend a hand, “Welcome to the Commune.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #cult au #tw: religious themes #tw: dubcon #tw: blood #tw: minor character death #tw: abuse #hades.dark #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader

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agentgumsh0e · 3 years ago

Text

ghosts (cypher x reader)

summary: cypher dies and sees a ghost waiting for him in the afterlife

word count: 1300+

warnings: death, blood, injury, google translate name, cliches, was supposed to be angst and fluff but idk how that turned out + you are basically nora

notes: this was supposed to be posted way earlier but i got caught up with schoolwork. after this i'll start working on requests hopefully <3

in the clamor of battle, there was peace as cypher lay half-dead on the hard ground. guns fired around him, the air resounding with both their thunderous noises and its accompanying shouting. his breaths were shallow and painful, and his hand weakly clutched the gunshot wound on his chest.

he had no more strength left to apply any pressure after a few seconds had passed, and soon enough, he would most likely bleed out since no healer was near him. his bloodstained coat was littered with bullet holes, and his mask was cracked, revealing one of his dark brown eyes that lost a spark of life with every blink. his eyelids grew heavy, and eventually, he gave in, shutting his eyes and drifting off to eternal sleep.

cypher woke up suddenly, his eyes shooting open as air flooded his lungs. he sat up from his lying position and with a quick glance around, he analyzed his surroundings.

he recognized that he wasn't at any of his safehouses, and upon touching his face, he wasn't wearing a mask. looking down at his chest, all his wounds had disappeared. instead, he was wearing pajamas and was sitting on a bed, his bed that he had shared with you all those months ago. before the accident.

was he back at home? the place that he had buried into the back of his mind?

you came into the room with a basket of laundry, humming a lullaby that cypher used to sing to you and najma. seeing him in bed, your eyebrows raised slightly as a smile broke out across your face. “hey, amir.”

“(y/n)?” he said unbelievingly.

even though he hadn’t said your name for a while, it felt perfect in his mouth. and even though he had not heard your voice for months, it sounded like music.

you chuckled, putting down the laundry basket and walking towards him. “you look like you've seen a ghost.”

“am—am i dead? or dreaming?” he ran a hand through his hair, puzzled.

“seems like the former since you're here with me.” you sat next to him and wrapped him in a gentle embrace, careful not to scare him.

cypher tightly squeezed you in return, as if he was making sure that he wasn't hallucinating, that you were really there in front of him.

“amir, najma and i missed you so much. we weren't expecting to see you so soon.” you pulled away, and he seemed reluctant to do the same, like if he wasn't touching you, anchoring you to him, he would lose you forever.

“you have no idea how much i've missed you both.” he interlocked your hand with his. his hands were soft, protected from calluses by his metal gloves. and unlike those gloves, his hands were warm in yours.

with a sad smile, you looked down at your intertwined hands and said, “hmm, i think i have a feeling.”

he rubbed your hand with his thumb. “where is our little star? has she grown a little?”

your smile brightened as you looked up at him. “i don't think so. she's taking her nap in the other room. best not to disturb her. you know how she gets.”

you climbed into bed and laid down next to cypher as he scooted back down into a lying position, facing you. your legs entangled with his, arms circling his waist as you gazed up at him, and he looked down at you.

your eyes traced the faint scars on his face, stopping to admire how light facial hair traced the sharp contours of his face, to adore his fluffy, dark brown hair that was the same shade as his eyes.

and god, his eyes. when they looked at you, it felt like you were the only person in the world. from what you remembered, they were usually hidden behind the sharp, bright blue eyes of his mask. they seemed like they were always scrutinizing you to uncover your secrets, to reveal what even you don't know about yourself. when the mask was off, though, they searched to love and cherish every part of you, inside and out.

it was a painfully domestic moment that both of you had yearned for in each other's absence, wanting so desperately to be held like this, seen like this, loved like this.

he chuckled. “someone missed me, hmm?”

you scoffed in response, digging your head into the crook of his neck and hiding your blush.

“can you blame me?” you said, your words muffled.

knowing he could always get a reaction out of you, he smiled.

a comfortable silence draped upon the two of you like a blanket. you laid together, enjoying being reunited after the half-year of pining.

“can we stay like this forever?” cypher asked, gently breaking the quiet. “there’s so much lost time to make up for, and so much to tell you, everything that i wished that i said.”

he seemed so relaxed in your arms. you could tell that he'd been carrying a heavy weight on his shoulders ever since you and najma passed. he was relieved to have it finally lifted.

“someday, you can tell me all about it,” you sighed, pulling away to look up at him. “i don’t think it's your time yet.”

cypher propped himself up on his arm at this. “my rose, what do you mean?”

“something tells me you're still needed in the world of the living, love.”

as he opened his mouth to further inquire what this ‘something’ was, your grip on each other started to loosen. you both realized that he was being brought back to life.

you gave him a sad smile as he panicked. “it was too soon for you to come back to me.”

“my rose, (y/n), please! i can't lose you again! i only just got you back!” cypher tried to futilely hold on to you, to your fading physical presence, for dear life, as tears started welling up in his eyes. his hands seemed to phase through you like you were thin air. like you were a ghost.

“you won't ever lose us, amir. we’re always with you. but your family down there needs you. you have to live on for them. for us. i'll tell najma that dad came to visit.”

cypher was speechless. time seemed to slow down and speed up. he was there spending time with you just a few minutes ago, relishing the peace and quiet, but now he was being ripped away.

he managed to stutter out, “i—i love you.”

“i love you, too. we'll meet again, amir. you can say that again then.” the both of you drank in the view of each other, savoring the feeling of being right there next to the other.

then, it was gone, and you were left hugging the air before you let your arms fall to the bed. a broken sob you were suppressing escaped your lips.

the clamor of the battlefield was back, ringing in his ears while he was rebuilt from radianite crystals. he blinked rapidly and caught his breath.

where were you? where had you gone? then the reality hit him. whiplashed, he muttered to no one in particular but himself, “for a moment, i saw them…”

“cypher, the fight is not over! we need you!” sage shouted, looking over her shoulder and jerking her head in the direction of the next gunfight.

you have to live on for them. for us. the words echoed fresh in his mind, and he was already missing your company more than ever.

the mission at hand sobered himself from the high that he got being with you. the damaged mask's remaining bright blue eye and his now stony dark brown eye were once again searching for their next target. he clutched his gun, cocked it, and headed into the fray.

#valorant x reader #cypher x reader #cypher #valorant cypher #valorant cypher x reader #valorant #valorant headcanons #cypher valorant #cypher valorant x reader #valorant scenarios

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miraeluc · 4 years ago

Text

you have an eating disorder

prompt: “you never had issues with food - that is until your boyfriend makes a remark about your weight.”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female! reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: MAJOR TW!! anorexia, there’s swearing

genre: fluff, angst

NOTE: this is not proofread at all and it’s kinda short, i was struggling to finish it a lot, sorry :(

you were never one to pay special attention to your diet or anything

life is short, why spend it worrying about how your body looks?

food is food man, and you need it to live

there was no fun in dieting either, it’s not like you were ever fat anyway - with daily training you were in shape!

sure there were thinner girls, but like i mentioned, you just liked enjoying food without having to worry about losing weight all the time

your boyfriend, bakugo, just does not know how to express himself

he’s not the type to really pay any mind to your figure, he finds you pretty anyway

and its a plus anyway - whenever he feels full he can just push his plate towards you and you’ll gladly finish it for him

that is until one day

you were sitting with the baku squad at lunch

mina was telling you about a new tiktok trend she had stumbled upon and found hilarious

denki was currently fighting for his life against bakugo after saying his hair looked like he was just hit by an electricity quirk before he proceeded to zap him lightly

kirishima was regretting all of his life decisions when he decided to try and help denki

sero was just sat there,, recording it so he could show them just how stupid they looked afterwards

kirishima finally managed to pull said angry-boy away from kaminari

you always said he’s like a little angry pomeranian when angry lol

back to the plot omg i got carried away

after bakugo was calm enough to take his initial seat beside you, he was already too full and just overall not hungry

so he pushed his plate towards you

“eat up, fatass.” he grumbled out

you just looked up at him with wide doe-eyes, not expecting an insult to slip off his tongue

it was bakugo, what’d you expect lmao

you looked down at the plate, suddenly feeling very not hungry anymore, instead pushing the plate away as you grabbed your bag to stand up

“actually, i’ll head up to my room, i feel a bit sick”

you immediately left after that, not seeing the confused glances the table exchanged, mina smacking bakugo’s head

you went to your room and laid down, not knowing why bakugo’s comment had made you feel upset

you never get upset when he makes dumb remarks!!

so why now!!

you realised it when you were stood in front of the mirror, shirt lifted, staring at your own body

you did gain some weight.

you were upset at yourself because you usually didn’t mind!!

you know weight fluctuates, you know the small amount of chub you have will eventually pack it’s little bags and leave again

but it hurt because you wanted to be pretty for your boyfriend.

how could you be when he says you’re a fatass?

eventually, you ended up scrolling through your phone, looking at thin girls all day

you also looked up a few diets that worked very fast

by the time bakugo was aggressively knocking at your door you had closed all of the pages you were previously looking at

as soon as you swung the door open he strutted in, seating himself on your bed

“what was with you running off at lunch today?” he looked at you

you were still stood at your door like.... mm ok i guess make yourself at home

“huh? i told you, i felt a little sick.” you mumbled, closing the door again, it was getting late and you were not looking to be beheaded by aizawa

he scoffed “if you say so.” he laid down, kicking your blanket to the side

“i brought you some snacks - incase you got hungry..” he said, his face looking like >:(

he didn’t get them because he knew you liked them and wanted to make you happy! not at all!!

he just didn’t want to put up with you being whiny

that’s for sure the reason

you giggled, throwing yourself ontop of him - sounds of protest coming from him but he did wrap his arms around you

“since when are you so nice, katsuki?!” you teased

lol wrong move

in 0.01 seconds you were flipped over and held down as he started tickling you

“i’m not nice!”

the next morning you left extra early to avoid getting breakfast with bakugo

he didn’t seem to be bothered by it, he also has days where he just doesn’t feel like eating early in the morning so

it does start to bother him when that one day of skipping breakfast turned into every day

his google search bar is like

‘why does my gf not eat’

‘do girls not eat breakfast’

but this bitch is also too scared to approach you at first because he doesnt want you to know he truly cares

his ego is still too high for that

but you know better

you know he cares but sometimes you don’t feel good enough for him

you can’t help but compare yourself to other girls at your school

you distance yourself unknowingly, lost in the counting calories and exercising every day

everyone but you notices that you’re literally spiraling

you don’t notice that you look sick, skin paling and cheekbones getting more prominent every passing day

you don’t notice the growing eyebags under your eyes

all you notice is other pretty girls and how you want to look like them.

at first, your friends decide to give you some space, thinking that maybe you have to fix this within yourself and need space

and you do, but someone needs to snap you out of your little bubble

that someone is bakugo

so it goes like this

during training, he noticed your legs being a little more wobbly than usual

and he noticed that you were unfocused, not being able to dodge all of the enemies attacks

but something inside of him snaps when aizawa has to stop the fight because you were not even fighting back anymore

before aizawa even arrived in front of you, your world went black and you collapsed

bakugo was so angry at your training enemy

didn’t they fucking see your struggle??

did they really have to be stopped by their teacher??

would they even have stopped if it werent for aizawa??

probably not

but he didnt have time to go and yell at them because he was running towards you

aizawa let him pick you up

“bring her to recovery girl.”

of course he did

everyone watching was so shocked

because bakugo didn’t let out a sound the entire time

his face was pulled into a frown, as usual, but he wasn’t speaking- no, yelling

he showed past his classmates, walking towards recovery girl’s office

“ribbit, why was he so quiet?”

recovery girl was like ?!?!?! what the fuck happened when was the last time she ate

she had to give you a total parenteral nutrition

(that means nutrition/fluids are delivered into your body via a catheter placed in a vein of your body, usually lower arm)

when you woke up bakugo was sat next to the bed, reading the back of some medicine bottle he found there

when he noticed you awake he perked up a little, shoulders visibly relaxing

“what happened?”

he narrowed his eyes, wondering for a second if you were serious

“you’re starving yourself to near death, that’s what happened.”

you immediately grimaced

“did i pass out in front of everyone?”

“is that seriously what you’re worried about?!”

you remained quiet, looking away

“y/n, look at me.” he gently guided your head to face him

“i don’t know what drove you to do this to yourself, but i need you to stop. you’re going to die if you don’t stop. what idiot made you think you need to do this to yourself?! i’ll kill them!”

“you told me i was a fatass”

his jaw dropped

fuck

“you know i don’t mean when i insult you! i hide the fucking fact that i WANT you to eat by using insults! i’m so sorry..”

his voice went soft at the end

he truly felt so bad :(

he was the one that was supposed to protect you from others hurting you yet here he was, being the one that caused you to hink you weren’t worthy enough

“i know, but there’s so many much more prettier girls than me, i was afraid you’d lose feelings if i wasn’t thin enough.”

“are you kidding?! you’re the only one i have eyes for! all those other extra’s can fuck off, i don’t give a single shit about them!”

you were kinda tearing up

“do you promise?”

god, he felt so bad.

he sat on the edge of the bed, reluctantly pulling you in a hug

“i promise”

from that day on he made sure to remind you to eat meals, even if it was just something small

he ripped everyone’s heads off if they made a comment about your eating habits and/or weight

and he made sure you were the only one he loved

the day he saw you collapse something broke inside of him

it opened his eyes that hiding his emotions from you wouldn’t help you in your relationship

so while he supported you to build your feelings of self-worth and eating habits, you helped him start to open up, teaching him that showing emotions wasn’t embarassing

no one else knew how soft he could get with you and it should stay that way

you had a long way to go but it was all worth it in the end

he was your little angry pomeranian <33

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