#i made this to cope with my fear of heavy storms while a storm is currently happening that blew out my power

[sunsvrs]

Break up scenarios with Enhypen

These scenarios contain sensitive topics related to trust and betrayal within a relationship.

TW: Infidelity, emotion distress, mental health struggles relationship breakdown, emotional conflict, anger, public humiliation, perfectionism, commitment issues.

This kinda took me a while so i hope you like it.

Heeseung

It’s a stormy evening, and the wind howls outside, shaking the windows of your small apartment. You sit alone on the couch, surrounded by the dim light of a single lamp. The air feels heavy with unresolved tension. “Heeseung, we need to talk. It feels like you’re slipping away from me. I’m here alone most of the time.” He finally sits beside you, his face a mix of exhaustion and guilt. He avoids eye contact as he speaks. “I’ve been so consumed by work... I didn’t realize how far I was drifting.” Just as you begin to voice your frustration, your phone buzzes with a notification. It’s a message from Heeseung’s phone left on the coffee table, showing a text from an unknown number that reads, “Can’t wait to see you again, miss you.”

Your heart sinks. “Who is this?” you ask, holding up the phone. “It’s not what it looks like. I... I was just... I don’t know what to say.”

The storm outside mirrors the chaos within. The finality of Heeseung’s betrayal hits hard as you leave, the door slamming shut behind you. Heeseung’s sobs are swallowed by the storm’s roar, a stark reminder of his broken promises.

Jay

It’s late at night, and the apartment is shrouded in darkness, only lit by the faint glow of a bedside lamp. Jay sits on the edge of the bed, his face buried in his hands. The silence is punctuated only by his quiet, anguished sobs. “Jay, what’s happening? I see you’re struggling, but you’re pushing me away.” His voice is muffled as he speaks through his tears. “I’m battling so many demons, and I’m scared... scared that I’m dragging you down.”

Just then, you notice a small envelope on the nightstand addressed to someone else. It’s a letter confessing his struggle with his feelings and his fear of being a burden, but it also hints at an affair he’s been having. Your heart races as you read a line that says, “I can’t keep pretending everything is okay.”

“Is this what you’ve been hiding? Did you think cheating was the answer?!” He looks up, horror and regret in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. I just didn’t know how to cope.“ The room feels colder as you process his betrayal. With a broken heart, you walk away, leaving Jay alone with his regret and the darkened room’s echoes of your departing footsteps.

Jake

The living room is bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, but the atmosphere feels tense and charged. Jake sits on the couch, his face etched with a mixture of pain and resignation. The air between you is thick with unsaid words. “I’ve been hiding something from you. I’m struggling, and I don’t think I can do this anymore... not like this.” “We can work through this together. Let me help you,” you plead, but Jake’s expression remains troubled. “I’ve been seeing someone else. I thought it would help me escape my feelings, but it only made things worse. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to fix this.”

Your heart shatters at his confession. “So, you chose to betray me instead of facing your problems? I can’t believe this.” The warmth of the setting sun does little to comfort you as you prepare to leave. Jake’s face is a mask of regret and sorrow, his pleas falling on deaf ears as you walk out, the door closing with a finality that echoes his heartbreak.

Sunghoon

The late afternoon sun casts a warm but deceptive glow over the living room. The room feels tense, as if the air itself is charged with unresolved issues. Sunghoon sits on the couch, his expression a mix of frustration and agitation. You stand nearby, struggling with the weight of your discovery. “Sunghoon, we need to talk. I’ve noticed you’ve been distant, and now I get messages like this on my phone.” You hold up your phone, displaying a text that reads, ‘I miss you. Can’t wait to see you again soon.’ Sunghoon’s face darkens, anger flashing in his eyes as he stands up abruptly. “Seriously? You’re going to accuse me without even hearing me out?”

“I’m not accusing you without reason. How can you explain this? Who is this person, and why are they sending you messages like this?”

Sunghoon’s anger rises, his voice sharp and defensive. “You think you know everything, don’t you? I’ve been dealing with a lot, and instead of listening, you’re jumping to conclusions!” “This isn’t about me jumping to conclusions. It’s about the fact that you’ve been seeing someone else behind my back. How do you expect me to react?”

His anger turns to shouting as he paces the room. “You don’t understand what it’s like! I made mistakes, yes, but it’s not all black and white. You think you’re perfect, but you don’t know the full story!” “I don’t need to know the full story to understand that you’ve betrayed my trust. I’m trying to make sense of what’s happened and how you could be so cruel.” Both voices beginning to rise “Cruel? You think I’m cruel?! You’re the one making a scene without knowing anything. I’m tired of your accusations and your expectations. I made mistakes, but this is how you respond?” The warm light of the afternoon sun now feels harsh and mocking as Sunghoon’s anger fills the room. The atmosphere is charged with frustration and bitterness, creating a chasm between you. “I can’t stay here and deal with this. I need to get away from this toxic situation and figure out where to go from here.” As you turn to leave, Sunghoon’s anger is palpable. He watches you with a mixture of rage and frustration, his face flushed and eyes blazing. The door slams behind you, leaving Sunghoon alone in the harsh light of the setting sun, his anger echoing in the empty room. The once-warm light now feels like a stark reminder of the bitterness and disillusionment of your shattered relationship.

Sunoo

The room is softly lit by a bedside lamp, casting a gentle glow over the space. Sunoo sits on the edge of the bed, his posture slumped and his face hidden in his hands. The atmosphere is heavy, filled with the weight of unspoken pain. “Sun, I can see that you’re struggling, but you’re shutting me out. What’s going on?” He lifts his head, revealing tear-streaked cheeks. “I’ve been feeling lost and overwhelmed. There’s been so much I haven’t told you. I’m scared that I’m not the person you think I am anymore.”

As you listen, you discover a series of personal letters and journal entries where Sunoo has been candidly documenting his fears and struggles, including a recent scandal involving leaked videos that left him deeply affected. You realize how much he’s been carrying alone. ”Sun, I had no idea how much you’ve been dealing with. You don’t have to face this alone. We can work through this together.” His eyes widen with relief as he listens to your supportive words. “You really mean that? I’ve been so afraid of pushing you away. I didn’t know how to share this with you.” The room, once filled with despair, now feels like a sanctuary of hope and renewal. You both smile, finding solace in each other's presence and the strength of your bond. As you hold each other, it becomes clear that, despite the challenges, your relationship has the potential to grow stronger.

(I couldn't bring myself to break up with him ;-;)

Jungwon

The living room is dimly lit, with shadows flickering as the city lights cast an orange hue through the windows. Jungwon sits by the window, his shoulders hunched and his gaze distant. The atmosphere feels heavy, as if the room is suffused with the weight of his unspoken struggles. “Jungwon, I can't keep doing this. You’re always so distant, and it feels like I’m the only one fighting for us.” He turns to face you, his eyes betraying deep exhaustion and guilt. “I’ve been trying so hard to be perfect, but it’s breaking me apart. I didn’t realize how much I was failing us.”

As you speak, you find a hidden folder in his desk, containing detailed notes and photographs of his relentless pursuit of perfection. Among them, there’s a shocking revelation—evidence of secret meetings with a performance coach and a therapist. It’s clear he’s been hiding not just his struggles but an entire alternate life focused on an unattainable ideal. “Is this what you’ve been hiding? The pressure you’re under is tearing us apart.” Tears stream down his face as he tries to explain. “I thought if I could be perfect, everything would be okay. I didn’t want you to see me like this, but now I see that I’ve lost myself—and you.” The room feels colder, the shadows growing longer as the weight of his admission settles between you. You leave, the dim light outside contrasting sharply with the stark reality of Jungwon’s struggle, leaving him alone with his regrets and broken dreams.

Ni-Ki

The room is bathed in the soft light of the setting sun, creating a melancholic atmosphere. Ni-ki sits on the edge of the bed, his face troubled as he gazes out the window. You stand across from him, your heart heavy with the realization of your differing paths. “Ni-Ki, I feel like we’re moving in different directions. I’m ready for a serious commitment, but you seem so unsure.” He looks up, his face a mix of fear and regret. “I’m still figuring out who I am. I didn’t mean for things to get this complicated. I don’t want to hold you back.”

As the conversation unfolds, you reveal that you’ve been offered a job abroad, adding to the complexity of your situation. “This opportunity means a lot to me, and I can’t stay if we’re not on the same page.” He tried to hide his tearstained face. “I know. I’m just not ready for the kind of commitment you need.” The setting sun casts a warm yet sorrowful glow as you come to terms with the need to part ways. Ni-Ki watches you leave, the tears in his eyes a reflection of the sadness of your separation.

[doumadono]

I’m really struggling with my borderline personality disorder. Like I’m feeling my split happening. I don’t have therapy until September. I don’t feel safe I am afraid I’ll blow up on my closest people because I’m getting so upset about people leaving me and it’s sending me into a split about how I knew they didn’t care, how they didn’t want me.

So I was hoping maybe Touya/Dabi where he sees you about to split, he sees you clenching your teeth and you’re snapping at anyone who talks to you and he knows it time to ground you because he could see how bad you’re getting.

There's more to us - Dabi x Reader

Warnings: mentions of emtional swing, f!reader Synopsis: as your anger and frustration teeters on the brink of an emotional split, Dabi unexpectedly becomes the comfort you've been seeking A/N: I'm truly sorry to hear that you're going through such a challenging time with your BPD. It's completely valid to feel the way you're feeling, but remember that you're not alone in this journey. While waiting for your therapy in September, consider reaching out to friends who can lend an understanding ear. It's important to remind yourself that your emotions are valid, and you don't have to go through this alone. You're stronger than you realize, and with time and support, you can find healthier ways to cope with your feelings. Stay strong, and please prioritize your well-being above all else ♥ I hope this fic brings you some comfort

MASTERLIST

The cramped League of Villains hideout was filled with an uncomfortable tension that seemed to cling to the air, intensifying with every passing moment. You, normally full of energy and wit, were now a storm of emotions on the brink of splitting. Clenched teeth and tense muscles were visible signs of the inner turmoil you were struggling to contain.

The tension was palpable. The air seemed heavy with unease, and the atmosphere was fraught with the telltale signs of a looming storm. Dabi leaned against a wall, his azure gaze flickering over the scene before him. He had seen this before — the rapid shifts in mood, the intense reactions to perceived abandonment — it was all too familiar. He recognized the signs of a potential split, a cascade of emotions that threatened to engulf everything in its path.

You were seated on the edge of a worn-out couch, your clenched fists trembling and your jaw tightly locked as if trying to contain the turmoil within you. Your voice, usually soft and warm, was edged with bitterness and frustration. Every word you spoke came out sharper, like daggers slicing through the air, and the way you snapped at Kurogiri and Shigaraki moments prior made it clear that your emotions were spiraling out of control.

Dabi's lips pressed into a thin line as he observed you, his mind calculating the best approach. He knew better than to let the situation escalate further. With a resigned sigh, he pushed himself off the wall and approached you cautiously, gauging your reaction. "Hey," he said softly, his voice a soothing murmur that contrasted with the storm inside you. "You're wound up, and I can see that. But snapping at everyone won't help."

You shot him a glance, your eyes a stormy mix of emotions, and then turned away, unable or unwilling to fully meet his gaze.

Dabi could see the storm swirling in your eyes, a tempest of fear, anger, and desperation. He sat down beside you, allowing a few moments of silence to hang between you before speaking again. "I've seen this pattern before, and I want to help you through it."

"Dabi, just leave me alone," you muttered, your tone a mix of defiance and vulnerability. "Just fuck off, man."

He sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I'm not here to piss you off, yeah. I get it, alright? It's not easy. But taking it out on them won't change a thing. I just want to help ya out, okay?"

Shigaraki perched on a high stool at the bar, an air of nonchalance masking his observant nature. His fingers idly tapped against the rim of the glass as he watched the scene unfold, his crimson eyes tracking every nuance of your reactions. It wasn't often that he paid such close attention, but something about your current state intrigued him.

Kurogiri, standing behind the bar with an air of elegance that was second nature to him, observed with equal attention. As he poured the deep amber liquid into a glass for Tomura, he couldn't help but glance at you occasionally, concern etched into his misty features.

You scoffed, your fingers digging into your palms as if trying to anchor yourself. "Help? You don't understand, Dabi. Nobody does, so please, fuck off," your voice laced with spite.

A flicker of empathy crossed Dabi's features. He understood that feeling all too well — the sensation of being trapped in your own emotional whirlwind. He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Maybe I don't understand everything, but I've seen you fight through this before, Y/N. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

You shot him another skeptical glance, your expression a mixture of vulnerability and defiance.

Dabi's cool demeanor belied the concern that burned beneath the surface. He reached out, his hand gently covering one of yours, the touch warm and grounding. "You've got people here who care, but pushing them away is only making things worse, yeah?'

You shivered involuntarily as Dabi's fingers brushed against your hand, a sensation that sent a jolt of both surprise and warmth through you. Your instinctive reaction was to withdraw your hand from his touch, a reflex born from a mixture of nervousness and uncertainty. However, his touch was unlike anything you had expected. Despite the initial shock, his calloused palm felt surprisingly warm, inviting, and oddly comforting. The contrast between your initial reaction and the reality of his touch sent conflicting signals racing through your mind. Your breath caught, a mixture of frustration, sadness, and desperation evident in your expression. "I'm just… I'm so afraid of being left behind. It's like everyone I care about is going to disappear, and there's nothing I can do about it."

Dabi smirked a little. The fear of abandonment, the sense of being unlovable - it was the hallmark of your condition. And as much as he was known for his aloofness, his stoic demeanor, he also had an uncanny knack for sensing what others needed. "I'm not leaving," he said firmly, his voice carrying a sense of reassurance that cut through the chaos in your mind. "None of us is. You're not alone in this, no matter how much it might feel that way."

Tomura's voice cut through the air suddenly, surprising you as he agreed with Dabi's words. A faint quirk of his lips hinted at an almost rare camaraderie between the two. "He's right. Sometimes, pushing people away only makes things worse. You're not the only one dealing with struggles though."

"Who knew I had it in me to be a motivational talker, huh?" Dabi grinned at his colleagues.

"Dabi and Tomura have a point. Emotions can be overwhelming, but they're also a source of strength if you learn to harness them. Control doesn't mean suppression - it means finding balance instead," Kurogiri added.

He could see tears forming in your eyes, a mix of vulnerability and relief. Your shoulders sagged as you finally allowed yourself to let go of some of the weight you were carrying. "I don't want to push people away," you whispered, your voice breaking.

Dabi nodded, his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand. "It's a struggle, I know. But remember, you have control over your actions. Now, look at me," he said firmly, his voice carrying an edge that demanded your attention.

As you met his gaze, he continued, his words measured but resolute. "There's a wide range of negativity within me, yeah, a storm that used to tear me apart. But I stopped running from it. I embraced it, every jagged edge of it." His honesty was a stark contrast to the aloof facade he often portrayed. In that moment, his vulnerability was on display, a raw revelation of the internal struggle he had faced. "Embracing it, my inner demons," he continued, his voice steady, "it made me more focused. More powerful. The chaos became my strength."

As if the dam had burst, your emotions flowed out in a torrent. Your shoulders shook as tears fell, a mixture of pain and relief.

Dabi's arms wrapped around you, holding you gently but firmly, providing the anchor you so desperately needed. "I've got you."

You leaned into his touch, a mixture of exhaustion and relief washing over you. The storm within you hadn't completely dissipated, but Dabi's presence had provided a lifeline, a reminder that you weren't alone in this battle.

As the minutes ticked by, the tension in the room gradually began to ease. Dabi remained by your side, offering a quiet and unwavering presence that served as a stark contrast to the chaos you had been feeling. Slowly, your jaw unclenched, and the tightness in your chest began to subside.

"You know," Dabi said with a faint smirk, "I'm not exactly known for being the comforting type."

A small, genuine smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "No, you're not."

He chuckled softly, his eyes meeting yours with a spark of understanding. "But maybe I've got more empathy than I let on."

Tomura downed his drink, his lips curling into a faint smirk as he watched you and Dabi. As Dabi's fingers brushed against your skin and you leaned into his touch, Tomura couldn't help but let out a low, almost mocking "awwwww" sound. His voice held a mixture of amusement and teasing as he observed the unexpected camaraderie between you and Dabi. "Look at that, Kurogiri," he remarked, his smirk deepening. "Who knew Dabi could be someone's emotional support? It's like a twisted version of a feel-good movie."

"Maybe," Kurogiri mused, his fingers tapping against the bar counter, "there's more to us than meets the eye. More than just villains with quirks."

[dragon-fics]

(Dungeons & Dragons) Friend-napped (Arveiturace x Wizard/Reader)

Chapter summary: While travelling home from a long semester in Silverymoon, a dragon snatches you from the ferry on the Trackless Sea

Requested on Wattpad and written with the help of my girlfriend

“You headin’ to or from home?” the captain uttered in a gruff voice. With barely a fresh breath, he lit his pipe and turned to look at me, snowflakes sprinkling onto his beard.

I looked back at him. “Heading home, sir.” I looked at the helm of the ship, where his first mate had taken over. Snow drifting around him too, landing on the already damp floorboards.

“You must be a hardy lad then, living in Gundberg.”

I nodded; the cold all year round helped me cope with the cold, but made summers unbearable.

“Then hopefully the temperature of the trip won’t bother you so much.” He puffed on his pipe. “Provided nothing snatches us up.”

Sailing from Port Llast to Gundarlun was always a dangerous trip. Between storms, fears of whatever lied below, and the dragons that roamed above, there was plenty to fear while crossing the Trackless Sea. I tucked my staff in close to me and looked at the other travellers. Looking at each of them, I could almost see their stories, the dusty clothes of a minor, the worn hands of a blacksmith, the scarred skin and dented armour of a warrior.

I leaned back. It was going to be a long ferry-ride back home. I’d been studying magic in Faerûn for the past year, and by now, I was eager to see my mother. Throughout the semester, I’d written to her weekly, but it could take weeks or months to get a letter to her. And now I had a special gift, a sending stone to communicate with her as regularly as I could.

The wind was frigid that evening, as the continent of Faerûn became a dark line on the sea behind us. I tucked my cloak around me. It trapped in as much heat as it could, as had been Mother’s intention when she’d made it. It’d kept me cosy on many a winter’s night in Silverymoon. I glanced between the surrounding faces, all dressed for the Trackless Sea and Gundarlun’s weather. But then I saw one, a man old enough to be my father, look up, his senses sharp. I looked in the direction of his gaze and he bolted to his feet. First came the blood-chilling roar, then the heavy flapping of wings and sudden strong wind.

Before I could utter a spell to help, strong talons grabbed me, and the boat no longer supported my weight. I must’ve dropped my staff, as the only thing I felt was the fast wind in my palm as people screamed and bellowed. My mind was a dumb mess, and I attempted to beat my hands on the claws wrapped around me, each digit as thick as my torso. I could barely breathe with the speed of the beast, the fear of being off the ground, and by its firm hold on my body. I think I passed out, because all I remember when I came to was the beast descending onto another icy, mountainous island than the one I was headed for. I held the hood of my cloak over my head and watched as best as I could as the lights of a castle came into view—or a very broad tower. The falling snow and my numb head made it hard to see and recognise clearly.

I tried to peer up at my captor, but to no avail. Their white body blended in with the sky and snow around. They landed and hobbled into their building, holding me firmly in their talon. I tried to squirm and loosen their grip, my body sore from being squeezed.

A hiss came from the beast. “Enough! I won’t hurt you.”

In the dark stone lair, I could see the beast. She was an ancient white dragon, hard plates lined her head and back, the pouch of her neck protected with blade-like spikes—she looked invincible.

I squirmed more, her grip tightening. “You are h-hurting me!” I croaked, feeling my head getting light.

“Oh!” she yelped and placed me on a plush bed. “My bad.”

I drew in deep and painful breaths. My vision brightened after a bit, and I had a glance around. The lair itself was huge, filled with gold, gems—a lot of white diamonds, including a wall of them—and lots of art of elven massacres. I gulped and looked closer. I was in a nook of the lair, filled with human-sized objects, like a comfy bed, desk, chair, and washroom.

Then I looked at the dragon. She sat patiently in front of me as I struggled to sit up. Growing up there was always rumours of a white dragon ridden by a lich, but this couldn’t be her… could it?

I held my stomach. “Wh-Who are you? Why am I here?” I groaned and tried to support my, presumed bruised, torso.

I felt her cool breath fall on me as I looked up at her. She cleared her throat. “I am Arveiturace, Dragon of Meltharond and Wrath of the Sword Coast.” She puffed her chest out smugly.

Meltharond. That was a name I knew well. A wizard who enslaved a young white dragon and flew on her back everywhere, pillaging and stealing magical artefacts. One of the most known wizards, but little was known about him.

I shivered. “You… You were his mount?”

She growled. “I am his mount!” She flared open her wings and her face got within an inch of mine.

I fell back. “Y-Yes. Of course!” I corrected myself. Though I had no idea he was still alive. Why would she bring back a, far less powerful, wizard?

Arveiturace seemed satisfied by my fear and sat back. “He’s over there. Well… his body is.” She gestured her claw toward a chair, sat at the top of her diamond wall. I peered up at it and froze. A skeleton, donned in an old wizard’s outfit, sat in the chair, intact and almost fake looking.

I gulped. “Um, hey Mister Meltharond.” I gave a little wave.

She laughed; her entire body shook as it echoed around it. It made me jump. “Oh, silly little wizard! He’s long dead.” She lay down and rested her head on her paws.

I laughed nervously. “O-of course he is!” I sat back up again and looked at her. Was this the lich everyone saw riding her? But… how could it be? He looked like no lich.

Arveiturace smiled at me, a big toothy grin. “I bet you’ll be good fun. Anything is better than the invisible servants and the dumb golems.” I glanced around, spotting a flesh golem guarding the entrance and a broom sweeping up dust in a corner—but it had no wielder.

I glanced at her. “Not very talkative, huh?”

She nodded. “You’d think he’d had left me something to converse with. I used to have Arauthator for company but now all I have is his territory and the egg he gave me.” She huffed. “Hopefully this one won’t kill me,” she mumbled and picked up a clouded crystal ball.

I nodded. “It’d be a real bummer if that happened. Who’d keep the legend alive of the dragon and lich?”

Arveiturace laughed, not as loud as before. “I know! Meltharond gave me such useful gifts to torment people, but couldn’t give me a partner.” She sighed, dejected. “Oh well, maybe you’ll be good company. Little wizard.”

I nodded slowly. “I’m nowhere near strong enough to, um, help you with Meltharond, I’m afraid.” My skin chilled as she looked at me, a face of no particular emotion, but maybe a mix. I gulped; I’d fucked up.

She laughed again. “I know that already.” She held the crystal ball towards me. “I’ve been watching you. And besides. I don’t think there is a way to bring him back, no matter how much I want to.”

My gaze drifted to my feet. “Why so hung up on him, though? You have so much power. Why not keep one of the sailors or wizards, you uh, pick up from boats and make them your new rider?”

Her brow furrowed and tail lashed, tossing gold pieces everywhere. “He is irreplaceable!” she growled.

I flinched. “Yes, I know! I know grief is tough… but why not find someone to be your next companion? Not a master again, but a friend.” My heart swelled a little, but I forced it to relax.

Arveiturace considered me for a moment, which surprised me—being alive right now in her lair surprised me. “And… how would I choose such a friend? He chose me, after all.”

I thought. “Well, you’ve captured so many. Surely one or two will eventually stick out. Or have in the past? Plus, you’ve watched me. Why not find a new partner the same way?”

She hummed, seeming to pick apart and examine the idea. “That’s not so bad, I suppose. They’d have to be very trustworthy, though, and let me keep my power. I like the independence Meltharond gave me.”

I nodded, not really understanding but figuring I should keep the peace. “He must have left some fine magical objects here, like your crystal ball.”

Arveiturace nodded. “He did. Such useful enchantments like being able to parry spells, or to use any magical item I can see. That’s how I kept up our image of pillaging.” She nodded assertively, impressed by her own actions.

I nodded slowly, terrified that she alone had been the one doing all those things, that the skeleton was just a prop that made people believe she had a lich on her back. “You’re, um, quite independent. And he was, eh, very thoughtful?”

She nodded again. “Oh yes! The most thoughtful wizard ever. I was his equal, you know? He taught me history, and about Faerûn and her races. And he gifted me such lovely diamonds.” She sighed sadly. “It’s all gone though, unfortunately.”

I tilted my head. “I might have some new things to tell you. If you like. It’s been quite a while since he, um, passed. So maybe I can tell you new things? Or show you through the crystal ball?”

Arveiturace perked up immediately. “No one has ever made that offer before!” She shuffled closer and nudged her ball to me with her snout. “Tell me. Show me what you know!”

*~*~*~*

Out of all that Meltharond had told her, Arveiturace had never heard any fairy tales or folklore, nor any music or poems. So, I told her the fairy tales of Faerûn and the monuments built based on them; told her a few ballads I knew from hearing sailors in the taverns; and played her a tune on my ring flute.

Arveiturace clapped, beaming. “Oh well done! What a dramatic tune! What’s it called?”

I smiled shyly. Her compliments hadn’t ceased over the past three days, nor had the lovely food or care for my delicate body. “Flaming Willows. I believe it’s about Klauth during the Year of the Weeping Moon.”

She nodded. “Ah. I see. That explains why it’s so… battle-like. You play very well, (Y/N).”

“Thank you.” I put my flute down on the desk and nibbled at the scone she’d provided, or rather, her ghostly servant had.

Arveiturace picked up her crystal ball and gazed into it. She’d been doing it a lot lately, trying to find her next capture and see if they’d be a good fit for her companionship. She raised a corner of her lip, unamused. “Ugh! I definitely don’t want a sailor, but they’re the only ones crossing the sea.” She huffed and let the ball roll out of her palm.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone somehow.” I smiled politely.

Arveiturace looked at me. “I like you a lot. Couldn’t you be my friend?” She made the biggest, sweetest eyes I’d ever seen, cuter than any begging puppy or kitten.

“W-Well… you are lovely company. But I have school and my mother is waiting for me back home. She must be worried sick.”

“You could stay though!” She jumped to her feet. “She probably thinks you're dead, and I’m sure Meltharond has dusty old books on magic to read. Look!” She grabbed a large leather-bound book and dropped it on the desk, dust pluming from it. I flinched and spluttered.

“Arveiturace, please. If I could, I would. You could come to Gundarlun while I’m there? Hear all the tales of the sailors. They come from all around! Hearing stories upon stories. You could stay with them while I’m at school. I’m sure my mother would love your company too. And then when I’m done with school, we’ll see from there.” I was truly grasping at straws, but perhaps she’d consider it.

She paused, looking deep in thought—I always wondered how real she was thinking or whether it was an act to seem smarter. Arveiturace hummed. “That’s… not a bad idea I suppose. I could fly you to and from school so you could spend more time at home too!”

Her excitement became my excitement. It’d shave down my travelling from almost a week to a day or two. More time with my mother and the people I knew back home. “That sounds really nice, Arveiturace.”

[everwizard]

I made a Roman gif cuz I couldn't find one of this specific part.

[xchoco-mixturex]

A Guardian’s Lullaby.

Hello Dadrius fndm i came with a fic-- A writing with Choco trying to cope with the new Golden guard info + Hunter + Darius + Dadrius.

I am sobbing while writing this my deepest apologies if I make a mistake typing.

I HAD TO WRITE THIS AFTER THIS POST I MADE! I just needed more comforting Hunter Darius fics--- BUT ALSO WITH SOME HCS OF HOW HIS RELATIONSHIP WAS WITH HIS MENTOR!

because i am in pain--

He feared this would happen, but sadly there was no way back from it. His priority now was to find the kid, who just stormed off from the Owl House - quite expected, if he was honest.

He went in such a rush he didn’t heard the bard nor the beast-keeper's voice trying to halt him. Crap, he has really got attached to a kid.

Well...How not to? He was just a kid. and now he was just...A very scared and traumatized kid. He made himself an idea when he jokingly scared him in before patting his head, where he flinched in place, just waiting his demise.

That memory itself made his hatred against the Emperor worse. But, unlike other times, he won’t let that twisted man get his way out of it.

Yes, chasing the kid in an effort to soothe him would totally break his anonymity, he would expose to punishment, but... He could handle it.

After all, he was ready to enter the emperor’s mind and he expected him to discover him perhaps, if that meant more information about the day of unity. Now he was alone, of course, and he was not endangering his allies’ identities, so, this risk was his and only his.

He tried to focus for any sounds that he could recognize from the blonde kid, yet he was fearing the worst: maybe he lost him and now he was all startled, like a scared animal, all filled with fear.

Until he heard a quiet sobbing nearby...

The head witch approached carefully to the kid. His palisman seemed to recognize the hooded figure since the red cardinal just chirped. Unlike his witch friend, who at the sight of the hooded person he backed off in fear, against the trunk of a tree.

“No, no, wait! Stay back!” Hunter squeaked, one hand shielding himself, the other shielding his palisman. “I-I will-- I shall-- I will say nothing! Just d-don’t-- Don’t take me there!”

“Hunter.” Darius spoke, softly. He also stood in there, not approaching more to the kid. “It’s me...” He lifted his hood from his face. His usual annoyed glance he used to met him back in the castle completely gone. “Listen...Listen to me.”

“Darius-- You are-- They sent y--” The young witch was fumbling. His eyes as wide as a poor scared soul, scarred forever. “Please! Darius! I will be quiet! I wont say a thing! But-- Don’t take me back to the castle! I’m begging-- Please!”

“Hunter--” The coven witch tried to calm him down, raising his hand, showing he is not a menace to him. But the kid couldn’t focus, he was breaking down even more badly than before. His cheeks flooding with tears as he tried to back himself even more from the position he is already.

“Please!” Hunted begged, shaking his head aggressively in fear and denial. “I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die! He will kill me! I can still be an asset! I can help you! Whatever you ask! Just don’t take me back to the castle, please! I don’t want to die!”

“Hunter- I’m on your side!” Darius raised his voice, hoping his words would reach to his disoriented state of mind.

Apparently it worked. The kid stopped screaming and begging for his life, the only heard sound that came from him was his heavy breathing. Hunter was still staring at him,dumbfounded.

“You...are? You are not with Belos...?” He spoke, wary still present in his voice.

“No...” He smiled softly to the kid. He knew what he was about to say could set his destiny in stone, but if it was for the kid’s safety.

...Just for once, he would leave his own interests second. Even if it may cost his own life.

“I am...The traitor you saw at the night-market.” The words were hard to admit, but he did it anyways. “The one you tried to arrest. I am a spy.”

It is settled.

The young kid stared at him. He remembered, the hooded figures at the night market. How he was so ready to arrest them in the Emperor’s name. For the act of treason.

...And he couldn’t be more relieved. At least with him, he could feel his turmoils are in safe haven.

Until he remembered the other’s Golden Guard’s fates.

“I...He...He killed them. Darius! Darius I am next!” The kid started to hyperventilate again. “He will catch me! He will kill me and I will be discarded just like the others!”

“No, you won’t. I wont let him.” The coven witch spoke firmly. “I swear, I will keep you safe. I will assure you that. I will find a way to keep you always safe, okay?” 

“I... I don’t wanna die, Darius!” It was so sudden when Darius noticed the kid launching towards him, clinging to him, trying to find some comfort. “Please, I don’t want to die...”

Darius felt a knot on his throat. Titan, he was fearing this day would come. He knew something like this would happen, after all, his mentor warned him of something similar, long ago.

“Hunter... You're okay. You're alright.” He embraced the kid and rubbed his back with his gloved hand. He could feel Hunter’s sobbing, he even felt the tears on his robe. “I'll never, ever leave your side...” 

When he said that last phrase, he felt Hunter’s grip on his clothing grew tighter. Darius couldn’t avoid to smile sadly to the kid crying on his embrace.

“I will stay and I will fight...With you.” He was meaning that. He wont let Belos touch any strand of his hair.

He swears on it. Just like he swore to his mentor...Many years ago...

[...]

“Wait...What going on?!”

A young Darius was following with haste a hooded figure who was walking far, far away. The figure using the Golden Guard sigil he knew long ago. 

It was in the middle of the forest, at night. Both of them with dark hoods covering them entirely.

“Darius, listen to me, there is not enough time, so listen to me well.” The Golden Guard turned himself and grabbed his mentee’s shoulder. “Belos is starting to be more strict with the coven system. It’s a fraud. All of it!”

“W-What...?” Darius was awestruck. “W-What do you mean?”

“Exactly that. He is a fraud! And he...He knows about me already. But not about you!” The Golden Guard’s tone was sure of himself. “So I am leaving you some last...Tips, from your mentor. Do what you must to survive! And to eventually follow what you think it must be done.”

“L-Last tips? Wait. What do you mean? You will stay with me, right?!  I am not ready yet to be a coven head! I am not ready to be by my own!” Darius tone was filled with fear. “You will be fine, right...? Y-You have to stay!”

Darius was sure he would be fine...He must be fine! He is the strongest witch he has ever known.

So when the Golden guard just shook his head, refuting Darius’ statement, he felt his heart sink.

“I will not...I can’t. The Emperor may come after me soon. And I will face him off.” He let a bitter chuckle out. “I am sure of my capabilities, but against him...” His silence was enough for him to let himself be understood by his apprentice. “Well, that’s what I gained for facing him and his system filled with lies and fear.”

Darius was completely mute. So, his mentor would just...he would just--

“Darius. After me, there will come another. Maybe even the last one of my kind.” The Golden Guard stared at him. Back then, Darius didn’t understand what he meant with ‘kind’ exactly. “Belos’ plans are soon to be completed. Swear it! You must not let him has his way.” The Golden Guard petted his head. “And make sure the other Golden Guard...Well...I think you will know what to do with him. You are a smart witch.”

“I trust you, Darius.” Those were the last words he heard from him. A part in denial, still went to look for his mentor somewhere in the castle, somewhere in the Isles. He was sure he couldn’t just disappear.

And that was the moment he saw his mentor... As a statue. 

The pain and sadness he felt on that day was the worst he has had when he was young. How his eyes filled with fat tears, how he held back his own crying voice, how he tried to stay on his feet and not fall on his knees.

It has be done.What his mentor warned him has be done and there was no way back. That was the setting stone on his new path.

He knew what he had to do. And he knew he might do whatever he must to succeed.

[...]

Darius snapped back to the present when he felt the sobbing was less, and less. Apparently his voice was soothing him. Yet his pleadings for his life were still heard in the silent forest.

“You're okay. You're alright.I'll stay here through the darkest night.” He started petting his head softly. Just like his mentor did back then. 

Eventually, Hunter relaxed himself on his embrace. All the exhaustion he had on this day suddenly took it’s toll, as he just fell asleep, next to Flapjack, who never left Hunter’s side.

Darius smiled softly at the sight of both of them suddenly feeling safe on his arms. How ironic. If the others coven heads, Raine and Eberwolf, saw him like that, he would have denied it and told them one or two words that were as venomous as he is with others in general.

But here? It was just a kid, an innocent kid who has been manipulated and mistreated by a psychopathic tyrant and his twisted plans.

“ All the way, I will fight ... With you.” He hummed the last part. For a moment, the image of his mentor flashed on his head. That left Darius with a bittersweet feeling

He picked up the kid carefully and made sure to cover him with part of his hood. The red cardinal also helped Darius to put his hood up. The head witch made a gesture for the palisman to hide, just in case.

And after that, he made sure to take the kid into the safest place he could. He wont let anyone to hurt him, not anymore. 

And he meant every word he thought and said to him.

((Boy, that took longer than expected. Maybe this is too self indulgent but oh well. BUT I HAD TO!))

[proxis-shattered-expectations]

Do you write fanfiction of your OCs? If so, can we have a taste?

I do. I plan on working on the Full story of Siva sometime in the future detailing her survival through the biblical apocalypse, but I am only working on a one shot for now. It takes place after the end war, maybe a couple months after the events of Darksiders, and it covers about how Siva is coping to a peaceful life, but no human ever comes out unscathed after her experiences. I put the Beginning snippet of it here , but I can share a little more too...

Siva's POV

With a sharp gasp for air, I shot up from my bed with a start, my heart and head pounding against their weak prison of flesh as tried to get oxygen back into my system.  Through the ringing in my ears, I could hear a torrent of rain against the window, beating harshly to create a constant patter of sound.  I had almost come back to my senses before a sudden flash of white light filled the room, making me tense up and freeze in place.  Without even thinking I rolled off the mattress and onto the floor, my feet meeting the ground as my eyes flitted against the illuminated  darkness.  Where is it?!  Where did I-

The shimmer of metal caught my eye, and I made a desperate sprint toward the hammer that rested at the door. I was so close...until the resounding boom of thunder sent a shock throughout my body, making my limbs lock in place.  The last thing I registered was my body falling to the floor in an uncoordinated heap of limbs, my head was throbbing, and I couldn't hear anything except the staggering gasps for air as I laid there.  The sheer sound of the elements outside sent my mind reeling, my adrenaline was pumping through my veins, and the terror came back in a raging force.  All I could manage to do was curl up where I was, clenching my teeth as I felt a phantom pain run through my frame, wheezing as my stomach began to churn in ways I never thought possible.  As if my body was preparing for the worst.  

I don't know how long I spent on the floor, trying to still my beating heart that seemed to want to escape from my chest.  Time spent clutching my gut as if my insides were imploding, while my brain wracked against my skull from all the images burned in my memory forever.  The smell of burning flesh, the smoke and rot that permeated in the air with every life lost.  The sights of endless bodies littered  across the Earth, flesh and blood strewn about, and hopelessness of being the only one......it all came crashing down.

All I seemed to recall doing in that moment was summoning what ever strength I had, and while grabbing Ironbark from it's place, proceeded to drag myself to the only enclosed space I could think of.  The storm outside continued to rage, and all I knew was that I need to get as far away from it as possible.  Some where quiet and small.  Somewhere safe.

Once there, I crawled into the space that was my closet, and there I stayed.  Huddled in the corner, my back turned away from the outside world as I leaned against the wall for support.  My grip on the hammer had tightened considerably, trying to regain some semblance of composure through the storm raging within.  Breath........just breath.......

I tried to make as little noise as possible, keeping my dry sobs to a whisper as I repeated to myself.  "It's over now......It's over now.....It's all over now......no need to be afraid...."

It was as if I were in a trance.  My every instinct was fighting to stay awake no matter what, even though my mind knew there were no more demons or ghouls.  The thunder certainly didn't help, for I seemed stuck to the corner, fearing what I would see if I turned around.  The faint noise of heavy footsteps almost escaped me due to the storm overhead.  When the lightning passed, I heard it. .

.....Oh god.....I'm gonna die. 

   The thought came without warning, and before I knew it, my entire being tensed uncomfortably as a sense of dread over took my mind.  I wanted to fight it, whatever had just entered my home, but I couldn't move.  I was too scared, and i felt as if I was caught at my weakest.  I shut my eyes in resignation as the footfalls got closer, but when I felt the presence right behind me, I also registered something else. 

The sound of heavy armor clinking against itself echoed in the darkness, heavy steps that stopped right at the door, followed by a scent.  That familiar scent that I faintly could recall.  While not as tinged with foul blood and smoke from before, the smell of iron, leather and the earth filled the small space.  It was so strong that it began to draw me from my forced trance, but I dared not move until I was absolutely sure.  Then after a moment of eerie silence, the familiar deep voice rose above the thunder. 

"Siva?"

.......War?

My intial surprise was overtaken once more by the lightning strike outside, letting out a small whimper as I burrowed my face into the corner.  Even as the thunder passed, I could not muster the courage nor the strength to answer back, too focused on trying to calm myself down.  How is he here....and how did he get in?   When I heard nothing, I tried to brush it off.  Maybe the lack of sleep is making me imagine it......do I really miss him that much, that I think I-

  "If you do not answer, I will break this door like the other.".

.....That explains how he got in....and proves he's.....real.

Clearing my throat, my voice wavered from the closet corner as I replied in haste.  "I'm fine- just uhhh......resting?"

For a mere moment, a quiet energy hung in the air like a heavy mist.  It was almost suffocating, and as I took a faint breathe to quiet my mind, the doorknob to the closet began to shake.  I only watched as it turned one way then the other, and with uncharacteristic care, the large nephilim opened it as he poked his head in.  Even with the darkness, his brilliant gaze lit up the small space, his eyes trained on my form as he looked to me for confirmation.  I stared back with weary eyes.  ".......Hi big guy."

Hope ya like, and would love feedback cuz it's still a work in progress.

[letarasstuff]

Can I stay with you?

(A/N): This is based on this, this and this post. I really hope you are ready for the feels, because they are there and they are heavy-

Summary: Following the events of Emily's death, how will Spencer and his daughter cope with it?

Warnings: Angst and lots of it, mentions of drug use, contemplations of drug use, mentions of needles, we also got some bittersweet fluff

Wordcount: 2.5k

✨Masterlist✨ _______________________________

A hospital is not a place where a child should be, Spencer knows that much. But he picked (Y/N) up on his way for two reasons:

The first one being the simple occurence that the babysitter is not able to keep her any longer, because she has classes in the next morning. The second one is selfish and the father knows that, but he needs her presence, the comfort she brings to him.

“Daddy”, the child breaks the silence in the waiting room, “Is Auntie Emily going to be ok?” She sits in his lap reading a book before looking up at him. Her eyes hold something he wishes to never see again: Fear. The fear of losing someone she loves dearly.

“I hope, Baby. But let’s not forget one important fact: Your Auntie Emily is one of the strongest women I know.” Spencer gives her a kiss on the top of her head and cuddles her closer to him, seeing (Y/N)’s eyes dropping. The rest of the team watches the interaction with aching hearts.

The girl is asleep for half an hour when JJ enters the room. Everybody gets up crowding her. Spencer is careful to not disturb his daughter as he moves her head to his shoulder and hooks his arm under her legs.

“She never made it off the table.” These words echo in the genius’ mind, seemingly being the only things he can think about. “I-I never had the chance to say goodbye.” JJ hugs him, trying to give some sort of comfort. In this process (Y/N) wakes up. As soon as she spots her father’s tears, she knows not to ask a question. Instead she loops her arms around his neck.

“It’s fine. It’s gonna be alright, Daddy”, the toddler recalls the words he says to her whenever she is upset in hopes to cheer him up.

The next couple days are hard on the whole team. They try to grieve together, especially while the funeral takes place. (Y/N) notices that the color black is fitting, since her Auntie really liked to wear it. She likes that they do the same to pay their respects that way.

“Auntie Penny, is she watching?” The blonde woman carries her while the casket is walked down the aisle. Since her death, (Y/N) doesn’t dare to say Emily’s name. She thinks if she avoids it, she is going to inflict less pain when she is talked about.

“Of course. Emily is in heaven and watches this beautiful beautiful ceremony we hold for her. So wipe that frown off and put on that smile she loved so much. Alright?” Confusing to her, the adults want (Y/N) to smile all the time. But they are frowning and crying more often than not.

“Can she hear us? Because I want to say I love her. I forgot to say it the last time I saw her.” Trying to distract herself from seeing the casket lowering into the grave, the girl plays with Penlope’s hair. She in turn has to fight tears back. Only now she realizes the impact the whole thing has on her.

“I’m sure she does. What about when the majority is gone, we go to her grave and talk to Emily? Do we have a deal?” (Y/N) nods.

As soon as the ceremony is over, Spencer takes his daughter, cradling her close to him. As if she senses his sadness, the girl is petting his back in a comforting way. He squeezes her closer to him, leaving her not much room to breathe.

“Daddy, I wanna talk to her. I need to get down.” (Y/N) wiggles in his grasp after she whispers this into his ear. Reluctantly Spencer lets her down and she toddles over to the freshly made grave. A little plastic card sticks out of the grass in place of a headstone.

The adults try to give her as much space as possible, they have to let grieve on her own.

“Hey, Auntie Emily. I-I wanted to say I love you, and I forgot to tell you this the last time so I say it a second time. I love you. And I miss you. I think Daddy misses you too. He is sad since you are gone. I’m too. I think it’s because we miss you. But I hope you like Heaven. Maybe you see my Mommy. When you do, can you say I love her?

“I’ll try to see you soon, Auntie. Goodbye!” (Y/N) goes back to her father and makes grabby hands towards him. Gladly Spencer picks her up again, putting a kiss on her head. “Wanna go home, Daddy.” The child mumbles, exhausted by all the stress and emotions from the day.

The father is relieved to have an excuse to skip the meal with the team. He is scared that the evening at the little restaurant is clouded by sadness and angst. Spencer doesn’t need that right now, a nice sit in with his daughter sounds way better.

After saying their goodbyes the little family sits in the car on their way to the apartment. As soon as Spencer starts the car, (Y/N) is fast asleep. He looks at her through the rear view mirror, happy to see her at peace. It gives the father time to sort through his own thoughts. Since Emily’s death (Y/N) tries to be around him constantly, which he is thankful for, because she keeps the darkness away.

Her last hours play again and again before his eyes. The different ways he could have stopped all of this. Why didn’t he say more when she began biting her nails? When she said “Laura Reynolds is dead”? Maybe all of this is his fault?

His forearm begins to itch. Exactly where Tobias Hankel injected the needle same as he did several times. Maybe, maybe it would make everything better? Just this one tim-

“Daddy? When are we home?” The small voice cuts off his train of thought. Spencer needs a few seconds to clear his mind. Did he really think that? Taking dilaudid while the reason he fought his addiction literally sits right behind him? “Just a few minutes, Sweetheart. Do you want to go to bed after dinner?”

As if she knows that the father can’t be left alone in this state, (Y/N) answers: “No, I wanna watch a movie with you. Can we watch Alvin and the chipmunks? I love Simon so much!” This places a smile on his face, the excitement in her eyes scare his dark thoughts away. “Sure, Peanut. We can watch whatever you want.”

It's the fourth evening in a row that the girl sleeps in her father’s bed. She either falls asleep there or climbs next to him in the middle of the night, so he figures he lets her sleep there right away.

“Good night, Sweetheart”, he tells her as they lay down. Even though it’s quite early for Spencer to go to bed it’s (Y/N)’s time. “Good night, Daddy”, she tells him while snuggling closer, “I love you. Soooooo much.”

The young doctor decides to take the next few days off from work in order to work through the events. The first one he spends coloring in books with her the whole day. While she works on her own books gifted by various members of the BAU, Spencer has his own extra made for adults. He can’t deny the soothing effect it has on him. The repeating moves calms the storm of thoughts inside his head.

The next day the two of them sit the whole day on the small couch in the living room, (Y/N) on his lap, and read. Sometimes they read for themselves, others the father reads outloud from his own or (Y/N) from her own. It’s kind of therapeutic to hear his child doing something he enjoyed his whole life.

“Daddy, do you think she feels lonely in heaven? There is nobody she knows, she has to wait for us to follow her, doesn’t she?” Not prepared for such a deep question, Spencer is caught off guard.

He clears his throat before answering. “Uh, Auntie Emily isn’t that lonely up there, you know. You can’t remember him, but Uncle Gideon, a friend from work and someone I looked up to, is there. He surely greeted her with open arms, happy to see her. And your Mommy is also there, she certainly asked lots of questions about you.” “A-are you sure? I told her to say Mommy ‘I love you’ when she sees her.” (Y/N) looks up to her father with big eyes.

He is not sure if he is lying right now to her, but he sees that his daughter needs the reassurance. “Yes, I’m sure.” To lighten the mood he begins to tickle her, which ends in a tickle fight which in turn ends in tiring the girl out and falling asleep while watching a Disney movie.

The next day is by far the worst since it all happened. Both (Y/N) and Spencer haven’t slept much due to nightmares from both sides (him comforting her as she tears him from his own), which results in a grumpy toddler and a non stop coffee drinking adult.

“Sweetheart, you need to put that shirt on. Auntie JJ is expecting us in ten minutes. Please, stop fighting me”, he begs, but she continues to cry. As Spencer tries for a third time to put it on her (Y/N) throws herself to the other side of the bed.

“I don’t want that, Daddy!” She finally gets out through her sobs. Spencer halts in his movements. “Why? That’s your favorite, Baby.” While (Y/N) begins to cry louder, he leaves the clothing article on the bed and gathers her in his arm, rocking her back and forth additionally to whispering sweet reassurances in her ear.

“She gave it to me. I don’t wanna make it dirty or ruin it”, the toddler says between shaky breaths. For what feels like the trillionth time, the young agent’s heart breaks over this statement. He has a bigger vocabulary than the average English speaking person, but at this moment Spencer is at a loss of words.

“Sweetheart, I apologize for not acknowledging this right away. I’ll get another shirt out for you, ok? Thank you so much for telling and helping me.” Just a few minutes later the little family is on their way to the next metro stop. It’s then that Spencer realizes his day won’t be any easier.

“(Y/N) you can sit in the seat next to me like you always do. Why do you have to sit in my lap today?” Normally he isn’t someone who denies his child physical contact, but the seating chart has a logical purpose. Being on a train with a child means you have some kind of luggage with you, which leads to occupying a four seats compartment. In order to prevent somebody taking the seat next to him, Spencer places his daughter there. It’s a win win situation for everybody, really.

Unfortunately for him (Y/N) is extra clingy today and won’t stop crawling onto his lap. With a sigh he accepts his defeat and tries not to think about the amount of germs that fly around.

Another problem that torments the father: Over the last few days his cravings grew. Especially today the feeling, the need, for another shot and another high is undeniable for him. As if sensing this (Y/N) sticks by his side throughout the whole time, keeping his mind off of the drug that changes him.

While they are at the Jareau’s and Lamontagne’s household, his daughter refuses to play with Henry. “I wanna stay with you”, she murmurs into his shoulder. Again Spencer accepts his defeat and sits down on the couch next to his best friend.

“Sweetheart, you need to let me go. I have to go to the bathroom, you can’t come with me.” This is followed by a tsunami of tears. While JJ tries to console her, he slips out of the room discreetly.

Due to (Y/N)’s current grumpiness and Spencer’s fatigue they quickly call it a night, even though he could use some more comfort from his friends.

“Good night, Sweetheart. Sleep tight and dream nice. I love you”, he says after tucking his child in and giving her a kiss on the forehead. “Night night, Daddy. I love you, too”, her small voice echoes back to him and makes him smile softly.

Spencer finds his way back to the living room and sits down with a book in his lap. As expected he doesn’t get much reading done, too distracted by his own thoughts. The events of the night of his colleague’s, his friend’s, death replay themselves over and over again.

What if he made his conclusions faster? He is supposed to be the smart one, the one the team relies on for making important connections. But he failed once so who knows what happens when he fails again? Next time it could be the whole team dying. He could die. He would leave (Y/N) alone with the team gone. His mother isn’t capable of caring for her and his father doesn’t even know she exists. She will go into foster care, into a home with too many kids. She will be looked over, too small to be seen. Her potential will go to waste and she will never achieve anything she is capable of. And all that because he hasn’t made a conclusion fast enough.

Spencer’s scars on his forearm itch worse than ever. One shot. Only one shot to make the thoughts go away. To make the guilt go away, the bad feelings. He needs it. He needs to cure himself from the symptoms of being a human.

Before the young doctor even registers what he is doing he already put his jacket on and looks for his wallet when a voice startles him.

“Daddy, i can't sleep. Can I stay with you again?” (Y/N) stands in the doorway, clutching her stuffed animal and her blanket, shielding her eyes from the light, oblivious to what her father was about to do.

“Oh Darling, of course. Do you want me to read to you? Or we drink hot chocolate and watch a movie?” He suggests, ready to distract himself from anything that’s going on in his mind. A few minutes later his daughter cuddles into his side while watching once again Alvin and the Chipmunks.

Spencer is just happy to have his light in his life all the time and is ready to tackle any task to keep her there, may it be once again the weekly visits for anonymous narcotics or time off from work to process the events together in therapy.

Taglist:

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

Spencer Reid x child!reader:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

[ageofevermore]

Adore You

summary → in which Harry goes away for a few weeks and upon his highly anticipated arrival home your daughter doesn’t recognize him. 

word count → 1.7k

note → this was meant to be set when Harry’s in Italy, but I screwed up so he went to Miami instead. 

add yourself to my taglist 

Harry had been away for weeks, leaving you home alone with Goldie and a recently adopted goldfish named Finn. The coast of Miami was beautiful from your little corner of the world back in London but from speaking with Harry so frequently, his experience had been filled with bad luck and pissed teenagers. He had been productive in developing new business relations, but he missed you both immensely.

Goldie wasn't handling the separation well either. She had spoken to Harry on the phone nightly, but even then she was inconsolable between every nap and clung to your torso desperately. Your little daddy's girl was in desperate need of a proper cuddle, yet the man for the job was oceans away.

His flight was set to come in Monday, narrowly avoiding a wicked storm as it passed directly over London. Goldie had been reassured for weeks upon weeks that Daddy was coming home soon, but every night she pitched the same prompt that he was lost at the shops.

Her sweet worry had come from memory of a trip down to the shops a few months back with you and Gemma. She had dropped her favorite stuffed animal out of the trolley and had gone hours without saying anything, only when you got to the car did you notice the missing stuffed elephant.

You promised her night after night that Daddy wasn't lost at the shops, but every morning her little green eyes filled with tears upon his prolonged arrival home. When Monday came it would have the same reaction as Christmas, only making the wait even harder to bare.

The sun was setting overtop of London, signaling another bedtime prep filled with sniffled and mindless babbles. At almost two Goldie wasn't all the interested in talking. She could formulate coherent words and short sentences, but you and Harry knew her expressions well enough to cater without verbal assistance. Some would consider her spoiled, and you couldn't completely disagree.

Bath time had become an acoustic concert, Fine Line playing softly as yours daughters preferred lullaby. Her little green eyes were barely open as she soaked in the overpriced bath bubbles, your hand never straying far from her back in fear of her tipping over from exhaustion. When you had drained the bath water and covered her little body in Harry's sworn by lavender baby magic lotion, she was asleep against your chest in minutes. The night was stripped of routine whining and crying, and that almost made it worse.

She just couldn't understand that daddy was coming back. Three weeks was the longest she had ever gone without him, not that she would remember his absence having been a newborn, but this four week excursion was weighing on her patience.

You went to bed that night with a heavy heart, ready to have your husband home and warming the bed beside you.

-

Monday had finally come.

You had woken up that morning to Goldie. It had been months since your daughter woke up crying, startling you into consciousness. Your first instinct was to grab the baby monitor, but that had been forgotten downstairs after a fight to the wash room last night. Rushing to your toddlers aid, your baby was laying on her stomach, reaching for the two pacifiers she had dropped over the edge of her crib.

"Monkey." You cooed, catching her attention. Your palms were up towards the ceiling, ready to pick her up and hold her close. At this point you were just as desperate for Harry as she was, and cuddling with his mini-me seemed like the best coping mechanism. "I miss Daddy too." You promised her, allowing yourself to tear up briefly.

"Dada?" She pleaded, clammy hands pushed against your cheeks and squishing your lips together into a fish pout. Any other day she would have laughed at your tight featured, but her little eyes were filled with too much sadness to find humor. "'ome?"

"Yeah. Daddy's coming home." You promised, nuzzling your nose against the soft blush covering her cheeks. She didn't seem to believe your promise, not that she had in the four weeks since he left, but she laid her head down on your shoulder and let her lashes flutter anyways.

Your morning carried on as it normally did, however it was hard to push aside your desire for Harry. Breakfast had taken thirty minutes, whereas it typically took close to an hour. Goldie was fussy, you were running low on diapers, and the laundry had still yet to be done. Tasks were piling up as weeks went by without your best mate helping you along.

You had set Goldie up with some cartoons in the play space downstairs, finally getting to the cutlery keeping home in your dishwasher. It couldn't have been six minutes since you stepped away, but already had your curious toddler gotten into something. The sound of plastic hitting the wooden flooring an obvious give away to her clumsy discovery.

"Bubba." You cooed, bending down to your toddlers level when her eyes filled with tears. She had just dropped a cup of water all over herself after whining that she didn't need a lid. You couldn't find the strength to be cross with her trembling face, so you forgot about the puddle on the floor, instead cuddling the confused and frustrated mini-Styles to your chest. "A few more hours, Gold."

After you had fixed her up with Harry's new merchandise and requested princess slippers, she clung to you miserably. Her nose continued to rub against your collarbone while curious fingers shoved into your shirt and held tightly to your bra. She had been doing the same thing for months, finding comfort in being so close to you.

You had sorted through a load of laundry with her in your lap, curiously poking at the warm clothes as they came from the dryer. She had tried to help for a few minutes before tugging at your shirt, little eyes begging to nurse.

You had only just pulled your shirt back down and over your bra when the front door opened. Just over two months ago Harry had gotten the rusted hinges fixed, therefore giving him the capability of sneaking up on the two of you.

A grin broke out across your face, wanting nothing more then to rush into the arms of your husband, but having to be mindful of the fussy baby on your hip. You set Goldie down, thankful that she didn't wiggle her way back into your embrace, and turned her body towards Harry. He was dressed in your favorite grey sweatpants from Nike, and a black shirt, his worn adidas shoes loosely tied around his feet.

"Whose that, baby girl?" You cooed, brushing your fingers through her golden locks of hair. She giggled, ready to run when suddenly her face crumbled and she fell backwards into your embrace. Your brows crinkled, looking up to share a worried frown with Harry.

Goldie had never had that reaction towards her Daddy.

"Monkey," You cooed, "What's a'matter?" You picked her up, holding her tightly against your chest with panicked thoughts.

Walking her closer to Harry despite the increasing volume of her terrified sobs, your husbands heart looked like it had shattered into a million pieces. His hands, usually adorned with a multitude of rings were bare, and clammy as he wiping down the sides of his sweats. You passed the toddler off to him, wincing when she desperately grabbed a handful of your hair.

"No Mama." She cried, reaching out for you. You had seen her get worked up with strangers before, but that was always during tour when somebody would grab her from Harry after sound check. "No."

"Calm down, Petal." Harry tried to soothe the toddler, a hand pushing her face into his neck the way he knows she loves, "Just me, s'just Daddy."

You scanned Harry sadly, watching him try his hardest to calm the waterworks. Your eyes fell from his, down to the sculptured patch of light hair above his lip. Your heart hammered when you realized why your daughter was so distraught, and you giggled. She didn't recognize him, used to his bare face or occasional stubble. Stepping closer to the struggling pair, you gently grabbed one of Goldie's flailing limbs.

"Look. Hey, hey we don't hit, Indie." You reprimanded softly, bringing her little hand up to softly caress Harry's mustache, "It's just Daddy. I know, he's got that silly thing on his face, but it's just Daddy."

Harry knew you weren't fond of his mustache, you had made that very clear the minute you saw the first picture. What he hadn't prepared for though, was the possibility that his little love wouldn't recognize him. She was quite skittish, much like he was as a child, but he figured with your anxiety, he gave his little Goldie quite the fright.

"Be right back, love." Harry handed you the clingy toddler, rushing off towards your en-suite with a simple kiss to the forehead. Your eyes followed as he went, but you stayed with Goldie by the door. You figured familiarity was best right now, having never been in this position.

It was a few minutes later that Harry came back down, freshly shaven and barefoot. Goldie had calmed down since he left, but her usually bright eyes were puffy and red.

"Look at Daddy." You cooed gently, coaxing her into turning her head and looking towards the man that loved her more then anything in the world. You knew that if push came to shove Harry's first priority would be Goldie, and seeing him so distraught earlier only highlighted his complete adoration for her.

The blonde toddler in your arms squealed, whining and reaching out for Harry to hold her. You grinned widely at your husband, happy to see them both so relieved and ecstatic. Once he was close enough for Goldie to reach, she thrust herself into his arms. Her head down his chest and her hands went to wrap around his ringlets, sighing contently into his hold. Her little green eyes red, but filled with such love and admiration.

"Dada." She babbled, leaning closer to place a wet, open mouthed kiss on his collarbone. She had done the same thing nightly, and Harry hated how much he missed his slobbery kisses while in Miami.

"Yeah, Daddy's home, baby love."

[bunnybunbun0]

Harry request!

Harry sees a familiar ravenclaw clinging to her book in the back of the library & curiosity comes over him up to her to see what’s wrong.

Fluff prompt #4 ."im scared of thunderstorms” & #32."you look lovely in my sweater”

Warm|Harry James Potter

Summary:for your whole life you have been terrified of thunderstorms,leading you to develope a method to cope with the fear,Harry was about to show you a new and very warm one.

Pairing:Harry James Potter x Ravenclaw!reader

Warnings:none,this is just bad written fluff

Prompts:fluff-#4.``im scared of thunderstorms``,#32``you look lovely in my sweater``

A/n:thank you so much for your request!also,sorry it took me that long to write,i was drowning in school work,thanks for the patience.

that was really sweet to write,sorry for any mistakes,i kinda got lost on the ending,and it is not that long,but i hope you like it,and that it warms your heart <3

gif credits to the owner

Frustrated,that’s the word you would use to define yourself now,’cause it was better than the word scared.It was already midnight,,and you were ready to sleep,layed on your bed,when you heard it,a thunder,a loud one,followed by a lighting in the sky and the  heavy rain hitting the window,and the roof upon your head.

You felt your heart beat faster and your palms getting sweaty,and you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep,even tho you were tired,and had classes early in the morning,so instead,you got up,put on some random shoes,and left the dorm.

Thunderstorms terrified you to the core since you were a little kid,it’s just a fear that you never outgrew.You kept wandering through the castle,heading to the library,you always found confort there,among the books and the smell of ink and partchment paper,maybe that’s why you got sorted into ravenclaw.

Once you got to the library,you felt a little less scared,allowing yourself to relax a bit,feeling a cold wave hit your exposed skin,you left the dorm so quickly and exasperated,that even forgot to get a jacket,leaving your figure dressed with only pijamas standing in the entrance of the room.

But it was already too late to go back,so you just grabbed the poetry book you were reading earlier that day,and sat on the same familiar spot.

It was distracting you for a while,you really liked poetry and it was a good book to keep the focus on,and ignore the exterior sounds.Eventually,for your misfortune,the storm got worst,making your body flinch.

“Shit!”

You cursed under your breath,feeling your body shake in both cold and fear.Suddenly,you remembered what your mom used to do to calm you down in nights like this,leading you to whisper the lullaby.

“Daisy,daisy,give me your answer do,i’m half crazy,all for the love of you...”

You had your eyes closed and could feel the stress start to dissipate as the calm notes left your mouth.

“It won’t be a stylish marriage,i can’t afford a carriage,but you’d look sweet on the seat of a bycicle built for too”

A small smile left your lips when you felt more relaxed,having the guts to finally open your eyes again,only to face the figure of the boy standing in front of you,holding a wand with a shiny tip,staring shyly,and tenderly at you.You could feel your soul leaving your body,that was harry james potter,the boy you have fancied since second year,seeing you in a situation like this,you swore you could melt with the embarassement.

“I-i’m sorry,i didn’t mean to disturb you”

“You didn’t” he answered quickly,not wanting you to be sorry “may i?” harry asked pointing to the empty space on your side,after your positive nod,he sat on the floor  by your side.

For a moment,an ankward silence stood between you two,the only thing that could be heard was the thunders and the big drops of water on the windows,making your body shiver.It isn’t like the two of you,had never talked before,everyone noticed you two being overly nice on the few classes gryffindor and ravenclaw had togheter,always smiling and staring,it was almost flirtarious,crystal clear you liked each other,but needed a boost to spit it out.

Harry that was quiet by your side,noticed your disconfort.

“Are you cold?” he asked,it seemed like the right thing since you were shaking,and it was raining.A sudden wave of embarassement ran through your body as you remembered you were using nothing but a tank top and cotton shorts.

“Y-yes actually..”you admited,it was an odd feeling but you felt confortable around him,like you could tell him anything in this world,and he also felt the same.

“Here” he took of his sweater and handed it to you “you can use it” a soft smile was on your lips,and you blushed a little,but accepted,you puted it on,and it was a little loose,but still very warm and cozy.

“Thank you” you told him with a smile,it was just too much for harry,you in front of him,smiling at him,cheecks slightly red,with his sweater on,such a sight for his eyes,and he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Merlin,you look lovely on my sweater” harry whispered loud enough for you to hear,a silly and passionate smile was dancing on his lips,the boy was not nearly as good as you in controling how much he cared for you.

“W-what!?” You could feel your face even hotter.

“O-oh nothing!” he answered quickly realizing just now what he had done,but not regreting it “so,uhm,what are you doing here this late?everyone else is asleep”harry quickly changed the subject trying to not increase the already high tension between you two,but you were sure of what you have heard.

“Honestly?” you were really about to tell him,one of your biggest fears,and you were not even scared,you trusted him enough to do so.he nodded to you in encouragement.

“I’m scared of thunderstorms” you said looking in his eyes “couldn’t sleep with the noise” you were definetly embarassed about what you just said,but there was something about him that just made you feel safe to say anything at all.

“Oh!” he exclaimed,surprised by how sincere you were “that’s okay,we are safe in here,you’re safe with me” he said sweetly,cupping your face and stroking your cheeck with his thumb,in an spontanious act that just felt so right.

Both of you were impressed with the sincerity of your words,and the naturality of your acts,the trust,the care,the love,it was all so real and honest.That was obvious that he fancied you back,but you needed to hear it,to be sure.

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“D-do you like me?” both of you froze for a second “like,really,like”

“I-i do,but it’s okay if you don’t like me back,i-”

You shutted him with a kiss,one that felt like its being denied for years,but finally happened,and he kissed you back,pulling you closer to him,it was slow,but very full of love,a kiss worthy of a muggle movie.Before you even know how,you two were cuddling on the spot,the rain was setting down,and you were starting to get sleepy again.

“Are you still cold?”

“No,not nymore...now it feels warm,very warm”

[doomstypewriter]

The submersion | Intrulogical Mermaid AU

Future intrulogical.

Follow up on this animatic. | AO3

Words: 1728.

Summary: Remus has fun in his submarine. A giant barracuda disagrees.

CW: Dark humour, skeletal remains of a rat, drowning, deep ocean (if there's anything else do tell), death, sexual innuendo.

The submersion

It was cloudy.

And cold.

But that was to be expected when one’s in the middle of the Atlantic.

“Remus Prince, you dunce, how are you dressed like that?”

Remus turned around to see Ella Da Villa, the captain of the ship he was on, and an old friend. Her short afro was stuffed inside of a beanie, she held onto her sides through her huge puffer coat.

“I know you’d just rather I take it all off, but, honey, I need to at least wear something”.

She laughed.

“What you need is to make sure you don’t get drenched or--”

“First of all, I look amazing all wet. But if that’s what you’re so worried about, hey, I took care of that” he answered pointing at his green rain boots.

The crew looked at them in amusement as they moved the equipment, preparing everything for the submersion.

Ella took off one of her gloves and smacked Remus’ head with it.

“Ow! I thought you were against violence!”

“I never said that. But I am against animal abuse, that’s why I didn’t hit you hard. Now go and put on a coat, you dumbass”.

“Sure thing mommy, you know how to be commanding” he winked.

“It’s captain for you, now go!”

His boots squeaked against the flooring of the deck as he ran to get into the guts of the ship. He managed to hear Ella swearing under her breath.

“How did he even graduate? Going out in short sleeves…”

Ella was a funny one, Remus thought. It was easy to get under her skin, she also liked to play along which made it even better.

One of the people going up the metal stairs almost tripped against him, there wasn’t that much room, after all. Remus jumped over the railing and fell onto the lower level without a scratch.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?!” said someone.

A younger guy with spectacular hair held onto his forearm to check on him. Oh, this was the newbie.

“Don’t worry, I don’t have any lungs”.

“Wha…” he looked half perplexed and half horrified.

“You know, we all get it done since we’re going to end up sleeping with the fish anyway”.

He stood up quickly and mutely apologised. Remus enjoyed the view of his ass going upstairs as fast as possible. New meat was always hilarious.

When he entered the room his cupboard was already open. He liked to leave the sliding doors that way so he could see what was inside, otherwise, he’d forget about it. In a ship, that meant ending up with all of one’s clothes on the floor, but as long as Remus could see where they were he wouldn’t misplace anything. Object permanence was a bitch.

Messy floors did have an advantage, the coat on top of the pile was good enough to satisfy Ella and easy enough to grab quickly.

The backswing of the glove against his shoulder caught him off-guard.

“Ow! What did I do now?! This coat is fine!”

“The coat is fine, yes, but the new guy is shaking like a leaf. What did you tell him? He keeps saying stuff about drowning”.

“Hey, I’d never mention drowning when I’m about to get into a submarine”.

“Yes, that’d be very poor taste, sadly, you have it worse so you must have said something terrible. I expect you to fix this, or we’ll have to arrange you drowning”.

“You know I love choking on wet things”.

“Then your last moments will be pleasant. Consider me the best friend one could have”.

The new guy was holding onto the railing of the ship, staring at the water in concentration. Probably about to throw up or something.

“Hey!”

“Ah!” he screamed.

“Do you have a name?”

“Uh… yes… um…”

“Great! I have one too, it’s Remus” he introduced himself with half a bow.

“I’m Nathan… sorry… I’m just anxious… it’s the first time I go on one of those” he gestured at the submersible held by the crane of the ship.

“First times are always awkward, don’t worry”.

Finally, Nathan let out a laugh, it was a nervous one but it would suffice.

“You know what I said earlier was a joke, right?”

“Oh, yeah, it just caught me by surprise. You’re the head biologist here, right?”

“Yup. Guess you could say I’m the dom of this study”.

“Darn it, here I was expecting to be more active”.

Remus smiled in surprise. It was always nice when people had similar humour to his.

“Oh, you’ll have to be. I expect it”.

“You wouldn’t expect we could go for some coffee after we get into…” the date proposition vanished into a look of fear at the submersible.

Remus put a hand over his shoulders. The drowning jokes would have to wait until they were emerging.

“Don’t worry, my thicc ass has been there tons of times! It’s just a lot of water”.

“While it’s true he’s been there more than you, he’s overplaying his own ass. It’s kind of droopy” a heavily accented voice said

“Who are you calling droopy?”

They turned to see a tall blond woman smiling smugly. Erika Engström, oceanographer and the operator of the submersible.

“You, obviously, do you have water in your ears?”

“Not yet, but we’ll see if…”

Nathan held his breath.

“Nah, I don’t”.

“He either thinks you’re cute or he’s afraid the captain will throw him off-board if he keeps bullying you”, Erika told Nathan.

“I wasn’t bullying anyone”.

“Sorry to break it to you, but you’re always bullying people, you don’t know how else to flirt”.

“Then I would be flirting with everyone”.

“Aren’t you?”

“Okay, yeah”.

“Come on, I have to set up things. Give me a hand, rat skull”.

“At least give me a knife or something”.

“You can chew it through”.

One last look at Nathan before following her.

“Well, I’ll leave you to stress out, if I don’t help her we’ll dro…” oh right, no drowning jokes. “We’ll…”

“Flirt with me when we’re back at the surface”.

Remus smiled.

“Will do!”

-----

The light was beginning to fade out. The flickering of the few rays coming through a swirl of silvery fish would be their last glimpses at natural lighting for a while.

It was wonderful.

How the underwater landscape changed, morphing into something out of a nightmare. Never ceases to amaze him. People would say it was all just blue getting darker and darker, and it was! But it was also a thick fog from which anything could come out. He always looked forward to seeing the weirdest fish appear.

There wasn’t much room behind the giant acrylic viewport. Despite being stuck so closely together, Remus could feel a chill as the air within got cooled by the deep water. His coat lay forgotten at the back of his chair still.

Once the lights of the submersible switched on, a delicate dance of white dust shined just like it would on a sunny day. This was no room dust. But there was just as much beauty in seeing the marine snow surrounding them. Teensy tiny pieces of dead fish falling all around, making the nicest shapes.

“It’s so quiet” Nathan observed.

“Wait until you hear a whale. The first time I did I thought my skull would pop”.

“Which one?” Erika kept her eyes on the water, but he could see the reflection of a smile curving onto the surface of the acrylic.

“Well, the small one. I know you’d hate to have to scrape my brains off your console”.

“If you had any I would”.

“There would still be plenty of blood”.

The ship carried on with the descend, soon, they’d be at twenty thousand feet. Nathan leaned in.

“Hey, what did she mean by which one?” he said in a hushed voice.

“Oh! Right”

He pulled on the string of his necklace to get it from under his shirt. Remus held it in front of Nathan’s face.

It turned, revealing the empty sockets and the front of what used to be a snout.

“I have this rat skull as a necklace! Erika teases me because that’s how she copes with the fact that she hates it!”

“Anyone would hate it. You wear that thing everywhere. It’s creepy” Erika pointed out.

“Where did you get it?” Nathan asked.

In the dim light, Remus’s smile cast shadows, giving him a grim vibe.

“I used to have a pet rat. When it died it sucked, my brother and I buried it in the backyard. It was there until three years later when we got a heavy storm. The bones peeked through the mud. So I just yanked a bit on the spine and got it. The skull was already defleshed anyway, so, aside from cleaning it a bit, I didn’t have to do any of the work. I really like this necklace. I got into marine biology because I began looking at fish skulls and I wanted to see more”.

“That’s…” Nathan began to say.

Suddenly, the submersible turned violently.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know, I couldn’t take a good look”, said Erika.

Her frown told Remus something was seriously wrong.

“Guys, we’re picking up really weird signals from here. Are you all okay?” the sound of Ella’s voice through the radio distracted him from his train of thought.

“It’s all under control, but I am going to begin ascending” Erika replied.

“We haven’t taken all the samples”, Nathan said.

“We’ll have another chance. Right now I’m worried that---”

Erika did not have time to finish talking.

Its needle-like teeth loomed over the viewport. This creature was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Part of him felt excited at how terrifying it all was. Sadly, he had the feeling they were all about to die. This fish looked like a giant barracuda and an angry one.

The creature snapped its jaw closed, cracking the viewport.

Seemingly, it didn’t find it tasty enough and it swam away even moodier than before. The very least it could have done was eat them.

If you’re going to kill them might as well finish the job.

Remus’ body floated into the dark abyss as he struggled to breathe. Covering his ears tightly, he screamed in pain. The pressure was unlike anything.

Well, it had been fun.

<< Previous | Next >>

The continuation will feature Logan and another animatic!

Taglist: @lemonyscented , @emsiemaefander , @sunflower-avo-tea , @nadiestar , @amber-da-toon , @gabseliblack , @everythingisstardust

@trash-bastard , @under-the-blue-moonlight , @willowaudreykeyes

@queerly-a-hisssstory-momster​

@theyluna-womoon , @subterfugespecialist

[mymelodyheart]

Miles Between Us Chapter 8 ~Light vs Dark~

Previously in All in a Day's Work ...

A voice raced through her consciousness, telling her this was the way forward. She knew he needed his control back before he would be able to speak to her. So she got down on her knees and pulled his pants down. 

When he wrapped her hair in his fist and tilted her head back, she smiled. "Now, let's get dirty and exorcise those pesky brain chatter, shall we?" Before he could reply, she took him full in her mouth and worshipped him with her love, absorbing every frustrated growl that ripped from his throat and every emotion that poured out of him with every roll of his hips. 

She pushed him to the edge and over until he found his release, and his loud cries echoed in the air. When he shattered around her, his body slumped onto the floor and into her arms.

Claire knew they had a long night ahead of them, so she cradled him, waiting patiently for his breathing to calm. Later after she bathed him, they would talk, but for now, she was contented just to hold him a little while longer, as she wondered how many of Jamie's demons she would have to slay tonight and if love would be enough to conquer his hell.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

 Jamie reached over to the other side of the bed and stilled when all he grabbed was air. His eyes instantly flew open, and he wondered why he was in bed. He jackknifed into a sitting position, his muscles tensing against the sudden alarm that spiked through his nerves, but when he saw the sliver of light under the door and heard Claire's movement in the bathroom, he eased back onto the mattress with a sigh. 

Memories from earlier suddenly came rushing back to him. He'd arrived home, reeling with the need to expend energy, but not in the healthiest of ways. He'd ran from work after Willie had sent him home, and when he'd arrived to find Claire in the kitchen, the rush of adrenaline had buzzed through him like mad. Though he'd made up with his sister after their confrontation, the run to the cottage hadn't relieved the buildup of anxiety and guilt, but one thing had been clear throughout ...the need to see Claire had been paramount. She'd sensed something was off, but he hadn't anticipated her reading what he'd needed at that moment when he'd himself had no words for the volatile sensation raging within him. Ever since she'd arrived in his life, she'd been unintentionally rearranging everything, and all the painstaking layers he'd patched together over his broken parts were slowly being stripped away, little by little, to reveal what he'd buried underneath. 

Earlier, she'd ripped another layer off when she'd offered her body for his own release. Despite rebelling against it, his body had a mind of its own, taking his fill like a starved man and pacifying the storm within. It had troubled him to see her pleasuring him on her knees and not had been able to reciprocate back, but she'd soothed him with words and her hands. He recalled the shame and fear that had shot through his bloodstream when he thought he'd hurt her with his rough play, but the moment she'd touched him, he'd lost track of everything, the mind-bending pleasure obscuring all reasons, making him feel depleted and whole at the same time. After she'd bathed him as if he was a bairn, she'd towelled his body dry and massaged his back until his limbs had gone pliant and heavy. And just before he'd dozed off, she'd whispered into his ears, "Rest now, my love and later we'll talk." He couldn't argue, even if he'd wanted to. Because, in her, he found his equilibrium, and his skeletons didn't rattle as much whenever she was around. 

He'd just switched on the bedside lamp when the bathroom door opened, and Claire walked in wearing his bathrobe, the sheer size of it almost drowning her small frame. He couldn't help the smile forming his lips. It looked ridiculously too big on her but at the same time too adorable for words. He pushed himself up and patted the space next to him.

Watching her climbed the bed and crawl on all fours, he extended his arm out in an invitation to nestle against him. "How long was I out?" he asked. 

"An hour tops," she replied, kissing him on the lips. Instead of huddling into his arms, she sat cross-legged, facing him, a touch of worry dimming her eyes. "You were knocked out."

"Really? Only an hour? I had no intention of falling asleep. I must have been tired. I feel like I've slept the whole night." Feeling slightly disappointed he couldn't put his arms around her, he took her hand instead and twined their fingers together. 

"Willie dropped off your car, and I have your keys here," she said, pulling them from the pocket of the bathrobe and placing them on the mattress. "How are you feeling?

"Relaxed."

"That's good," she whispered, squeezing his hand.

His thumb brushed the inside of her wrist. "What ye did earlier ..." He felt a stirring in his loins when he remembered her mouth around him. "I would like to verra much do the same for ye if ye'd allow me."

"Jamie ..." she sighed, giving him a small warning look.

He shrugged, his mischievous smile telling her, Oh well! I tried. They eyed each other for a few heartbeats, a silent understanding passing between them. Jamie knew she was patiently waiting for him to initiate the talk. There was no way around it. Not even sex was going to get in the way. It had been a long time coming, and he owed her some explanations. "So ye want to talk ..."

"Would you like to have your dinner first? You haven't eaten yet."

"No, I'm good."

"Good. Let me know if you need anything."

"Aye ..." He moved into a more comfortable position. "Let's get this done and over with."

She gave him an encouraging nod. "Take your time. Whenever you're ready."

"Just a wee warning, Sassenach." He winked at her when he noticed her frown. "If this starts to feel like a therapist appointment, bear in mind I've noted all the available exits," he joked to lighten the mood.

It worked. The corner of her lips twitched. "I'll try my utmost best to keep that in mind."

He settled against the headboard and took a couple of cleansing breaths. It cleared his head a wee bit, allowing him to formulate the right words. Words that wouldn't sound like he was losing his mind. "Guilt," he began. "I told ye already before ...I have a bad case of it." His throat closed up. "It's what keeps me awake most nights, replaying all those things I didnae do right. As most insomniacs would know, nothing solves sleeplessness like a nice warm glass of despair and regret."

A flicker of worry flashed across her face. "Jamie, you told me you were feeling better." She scooted closer to him. "Have you been keeping the truth from me? Because if you are, it's not helping matters."

"No, Sassenach." He shooked his head. "I was telling ye the truth. I was feeling better, but there have been many strange things happening in the past that's just coming to light. The more I try to piece things together, the weirder it gets." He massaged his temple with his fingers. "Christ! Where do I begin?"

"Alright, one thing at a time." She paused, and he saw the cogs behind her eyes, turning. She appeared to be contemplating the best way to make it easy for him. "Did something happened at work earlier?" she asked.

He sighed. "Aye. I blew my top at work. It's unlike me to lose my head like that, especially in front of the other workers. It's kind of frightening when your emotions are beyond your control."

"Did it have anything to do with your episodes?"

"Probably. I'm not sure anymore."

"When you came home earlier, you really looked stressed, Jamie."

He stared at her and thought of the events that day. Ah, shite! Why is this so fucking difficult? They're only in the early phases of their relationship, and already she's tangled up in his web of messed-up issues. Surely this wasn't what she'd bargained for when she decided to take a chance on him? She only had a few days before she returned back to London, but here they were, it's early evening, cooped up in his bedroom trying to sort out his fucked-up head when they could be out on romantic dates. No one, except for his family, had really seen the true depths of his issues, and he'd coped fine for a long time without talking about it. Man up, Fraser - get to the bottom of it! Think of Harry! 

"My sister and I had a fight," he finally said. "But I dinnae think the fight triggered anything. Or maybe a little. Ye see, it's no' the first time we've had a squabble like that. I think the beginning of the episode has more to do with something that has been building up for the last few days. Odd dreams, memories coming to the surface and such. And the sibling bicker was the last straw."

"What do you mean?" she asked. "Has this something to do with your dream the other night? You told me you had a strange dream and you had trouble sleeping."

His heart lurched as he recalled the dream. "Aye. But it goes way before that. Partly, it has something to do with that ..." He hesitated for a moment. "...and with ye."

"With me?" She visibly braced herself, a worried frown appearing on her brows. "Jamie ...if you're concerned about me not being able to cope with your condition and leaving you, you thought wrong. I care for you, and I want to help. But I can't help you if I don't understand what's going on. Whatever you're going through, we'll face it together."

He felt encouraged by the hopeful look she gave him. "But ye dinnae ken half of it."

"No, I don't," she agreed. "But we'll get through it together. Painful as it is to talk about what's hurting you, suppressing it will only make it worse, and there's a danger you could lose yourself and forget the person you are and all the good you have done in the process. If you're waiting for time to erase all those emotional pain, it's not going to happen, Jamie. I know this because I carry a lot of pain, too, and time has done nought to erase it. You just have to acknowledge it and learn to let it go." 

His heart pounded. "This can open up all sorts of hurt, Sassenach ...for ye."

She studied him closely. "Why are you so worried about me getting hurt, Jamie? Ye're the one suffering from this condition."

His gaze lifted to meet hers, and a throbbing began underneath his collarbone. He wondered how much he could reveal about her parents' death without him disintegrating in front of her and scaring her away for good. This is the part where the room would normally close in on him, and then he would start to fidget and eventually clamp up. An uncomfortable pressure stretched against his rib cage, making it difficult to suck in a breath. They were already at the point of no return. But Claire's eyes instantly grounded him, turning the chaos in his head from a bright, blazing red to a cool, soothing blue. 

He swallowed his mounting anxiety, focusing on healing what had been damaged inside of him. "Before anything else, Sassenach ...what do ye remember about yer parents' death?"

"Wot?" Her voice sounded throaty. "Why is it relevant?"

He loathed the sudden uncertainty sneaking into her expression. He wished he could go back and take back the words. "I'm sorry, but it's pertinent that I know."

She let go of his hand and rubbed her palms repeatedly along her thighs. "I -I was with my parents when the accident happened. I never told you this part before."

The image of young Claire trapped at the back seat of the car flared to life. His head fell forward with a groan, and when she touched his shoulder, he waved a hand and motioned for her to go on.

"I don't remember much except for the feeling of being very frightened and wanting to be with my mother. After that, everything was a blur."

"Have ye ever talked to your uncle about it?" 

"Sort of," she said, scrunching up her shoulders. "When I was old enough to understand. But never in-depth." She stopped and eyed him suspiciously. "Jamie, what's with the questions about my parents? Are you trying to change the direction of this conversation?"

"No! No' at all!" He shifted position and squeezed his eyes shut for a beat. When he opened them again, he puffed out a breath. "Your parents ...the car ...I was there when it happened." She looked bewildered, but he didn't stop. "I was on my way to see my godfather. I-I was ten. And I had this ..."

"What do you mean you were there?"

Oh, God, give me strength. "I saw yer parents' accident," he said rapidly. She gasped and cupped a hand over her mouth. Shaking his head, he continued. "I ...I always thought my condition began right after my best mate died in the war zone. But it was way before that. I saw something that a child should never have to see, but I did. I would have told ye all these sooner if I had known. The dream ...I had the other night brought back all those horrific memories. Christ, Sassenach ..." He dropped his head into his hands. "I wish there's an easier way to say this. I'm so sorry for bringing this up, and I just cannae ..."

"Jamie ..." 

Then the dam shattered, and everything came pouring out of him. He told her how Harry had first appeared into his life, coming to his aid in Glasgow when he'd fallen down onto his knees while going through an episode. And the mysterious ways the older man would pop up whenever he was in dire need of help. He spoke of his suspicions of what or who he'd thought Harry might have been after his family had questioned his friend's identity over New Year's Eve lunch at Lallybroch. And how his theory had been further validated the moment Murtagh had mentioned having known Claire's parents. Then his voice faltered when he told her what his godfather had told him the other day, about him being witness to her parents' accident as a young boy. And how seeing uncle Lamb's similarity to Harry had triggered the dream and brought back all the suppressed memories. He told her how he'd held her that fateful day and how the memories of that event changed him forever, vowing to himself nothing like that would ever happen again under his watch.

By the time Jamie finished, he felt weightless. Like he'd been lugging around sandbags on his shoulders all his life, and they'd just been ripped open, dumping their contents onto the ground.

When he finally glanced up, Claire was immobile, staring at the wall behind him. The unfocused expression he'd seen the other night when he'd asked about her parents was back, only this time she appeared more thoughtful.

"Sassenach?"

Her gaze cut to his. "So you knew my dad."

"I did." She must have sensed his sincerity because she closed her eyes and her lips quivered a bit as if she's trying her hardest to keep her emotions in check. Christ, he wanted to drag her away from all the pain he'd just brought up. He didn't like seeing her like this. He'd told her more than he'd been prepared to, and they should call it a wrap for now. But he needed to know if there were any mental scars she'd been nursing and if so, he wondered if he'd made it worse. If he did, he'd never forgive himself. "Sassenach, please tell me ye're alright."

Her gaze lifted to meet his, and she hugged herself close. "I think so," she whispered. "Just give me a few minutes to let it all sink in, alright? Don't give up on me just yet." They simultaneously took a deep breath, making her smile at the realisation. He resisted the urge to pull her onto his lap and focused on what she had to say. He'd already said his bit, and now it was her turn. So he listened. "That moment at the pub, when I first laid eyes on you, I had this strong feeling we've always known each other. I even said to myself, maybe we did ...in another lifetime. All this while we had no idea we were both connected through my dad."

"Aye, I felt the same way, Sassenach, and I put it down simply to a strong attraction between us. I even thought it would pass, but the more I got to know ye, the more I wanted more of ye. It frightened the hell of me, firstly because of where ye live. I didnae think our relationship could work with my condition. And secondly, because I didnae want my burden to be yer burden. It would kill me if ye had to go through what I've been going through almost all my life."

She seemed transfixed as she made a move towards him, reminding him of the way she'd looked just before they're about to make love. Pressure rolled off him the moment she straddled his lap, leaving him almost light-headed when she tenderly placed a hand against the side of his face. "Do you realise what an extraordinary man you are?" She tunnelled her fingers through his hair, making his eyelids fall to half-mast. "You see, Jamie ...only good men feel the load of their burdens. And exceptional ones like you persist on taking more. Because of you, I want to be a better person and take some of your burdens. The same way you've carried the burden of my parents' death all this while." She laid her head into the crook of his shoulder, snuggling into his neck in a way that somehow mended a broken part of him. "Growing up without them has been hard, and it still pains me a lot when I think of what could have been. But I realise now, sometimes death has a heart, and we can't beat ourselves up for recognising it." A few heartbeats passed before she met his gaze. "Out of tragedy, we found each other, and that means their death must count for something, don't you think?"

The simplicity of her words, her acceptance of their past, the vulnerable girl he saw underneath the confident woman she was today reached every damaged corner of his being. There was no choice but to press their bodies together.

He pulled her closer and gently combed his fingers through her curls as he brushed his lips against hers. His thumb caressed her cheek before cupping it in his hand. When she smiled, his fingers tugged her chin to bring her mouth back to his. The kiss deepened, his fingers fumbling with the ties of the bathrobe she's wearing before pushing it down over her shoulders. Fluidly, never breaking contact, his lips travelled down her throat, her back arching to offer her breast. He was about to take a nipple to his mouth when he noticed a band of bruise circling her arm. He jerked back and realised there was an identical one on her other arm.

A sick feeling settling in his gut, he touched one of the bruises with his index finger. "What's this?" he asked, even though deep inside, he knew the answer already.

She rubbed it with a hand as if it was nothing. "Jamie, don't worry about it. I have pale skin, and I bruise like a peach."

He ground his teeth and shook his head. "I did this earlier, didn't I? When I came home from work, right after the fight with Jenny."

When she flinched, he felt like a bucket of ice-cold water had been thrown over him. He lifted her off his lap and got out of bed, and went to stand by the window.

"Jamie, it was nothing. We were playing rough, and these things happen."

He could feel the darkness coming back again, trying to shroud him. He needed to concentrate on his breathing. When a woman like Claire loved with such fierceness, surely that love should have enough light to push the dark away. But he was coming down hard and fast, and the sick feeling in his guts was trying to make its way up, making him want to gag.

He heard her approach, and he steeled himself when she wrapped her arms around his middle and laid her head on the centre of his back. "Jamie, you didn't hurt me. You have to believe me."

How could he want Claire's love and feel the unshakable compulsion to run away at the same time? Her arms were circled around him so tight, he thought she might be trying to join them together as one. A huge part of him wanted them joined together, but the darker side of him was scared to death. He'd allowed her to soothe him with every word, every touch. But now it was high time to get rid of the blinders. His chest hurt, and every fear he'd succeeded to overcome throughout the last few days poured down on his head.

Claire shouldn't want the man he'd become, who had a tendency to inflict pain and bruises on her skin when under the influence of his episodes even if it wasn't intended. He thought of Jenny earlier and the frightened look on her face, his fists curled, ready to cause injury. This relationship with Claire would be over as soon as she realised she'd saddled herself with a sick man with the potential to be violent, and he knew he wouldn't be able to bear it when that day came. It was up to him to make sure she didn't make this mistake because she deserved more, and he loved her too much to allow her to be blinded by their love. He didn't want her to make that error. 

"Claire ...I need to go."

Claire turned him to face her, weariness dimming her normally bright amber eyes. He'd done this to her, snuffed out the light in her. But she was so beautiful, her curls, wrecked and wild, mouth puffy from their kisses. "I'm not letting you go, Jamie. We're in this together. You have to believe me when I say you didn't hurt me and that you are a good man. You don't have it in you to hurt anyone."

Her words were hot irons branding his insides. "Dinnae say those things in the heat of the moment. Ye're too good of a person to realise when something bad is standing right under yer nose."

"You're not making any sense Jamie. Come back to bed, please ...and we'll talk it over." She was close to tears, and it was breaking his heart to see her like this. "I meant it when I said I love you and nothing ...not even this condition that you have will drive me away from you."

Jamie exhaled a sharp breath. "I need to clear my head." He walked away from her and grabbed the jeans, hanging neatly over the chair.

"I know what you're trying to do, Jamie. I can see right through you. You want to leave me because you think you're a danger to me. You're wrong." She tugged his arm and attempted to pull him towards her, but he remained still, looking anywhere but into her eyes. She grasped his face with both her hands, forcing him to look at her. "Look at me! I want you to know I'm not afraid of a fight. Just tell me what I'm up against so I can knock it down for you."

It took a lot of willpower to remain upright and resist the urge to voice out his fears. He knew she would be able to defeat his doubts, but for how long? Those fears would grow back even bigger and more persistent once time had passed and the outside world began to encroach on them. "Let me go, Sassenach."

"Never, Jamie. You said on the day before I left for London we were in this together, you and I. I'm holding my side of the bargain, and I will not let you go. So you better get used to that." 

He turned away and started to scramble for the rest of his clothes. When he finished pulling up his jeans and putting on his t-shirt and shoes, it took him what seemed like an eternity to face her. Her face was ashen as she drew the bathrobe around her. "I'm done talking, for now, Claire."

Tears streamed down her face as he grabbed his phone and keys and made his way out. He couldn't get out of the cottage fast enough. His heart hammered, his ears started to ring, his lungs squeezing out the last air. He'd hurt her. He'd seen the bruises with his eyes, and now she's crying because of him. He needed to get out fast to clear his head.

She followed him closely behind. "Please tell me where you're going, Jamie. At least give me that," she pleaded.

He couldn't stand to see her tears anymore or hear the plea in her voice. He was doing what's right for her because he loved her too much. He wasn't even sure where he was going or if anyone would be safe in his presence. All he could think of was how frightened his sister had looked at him and the bruises he'd inflicted in Claire's arms. He needed to get as far away as possible, away from the people he loved.

He got into his car, slammed the door, and started the engine. 

Claire banged on his window, her face wet with tears. "Don't do this, Jamie. We can fix this together. Please don't go. I'm begging you." 

"I love you, Sassenach. I love you so much," he mumbled under his breath as he jerked his car into gear, reversing from his driveaway. The wheels spun and screeched as he pulled away, his body shaking and his heart shattering into tiny pieces. 

Claire's safe now, he reassured himself, gripping the steering wheel tight, safe and far from the stifling darkness closing in.  

..........

Claire watched Jamie's car disappear into the darkness. She wanted to scream and crumple to the ground out of sheer despair and fear. But she realised her presence of mind was needed at this moment. She needed to call someone and alert them to what happened. Jamie could be in danger. Willie!

She ran back to the house and grabbed her phone. With shaking fingers, she wiped the tears from her eyes and tapped on the screen. She'd just managed to find Willie's name when her phone rang. She saw it was her uncle Lamb. Oh God now's not the time. Though frustrated, she answered. "Hello?"

The line crackled before uncle Lamb spoke. "Sweetheart, it's me. I hope the Scottish weather is holding up because I'm on my way for a visit. We had another setback at work, and I didn't want to hang around, scratching my arse doing nothing. I'll be arriving in four days. I hope you'll still be there; otherwise, I'll change my flight ticket to London."

Not wanting to alert her uncle with her worries about Jamie, she cleared her throat and tried to sound cheerful. "That's great! I'll be here, and I can't wait to see you! But I really need to run along. So many things going on." It wasn't a lie, but she would call him back once she'd sorted out this mess she was dealing with. "I'll call you later."

"That's fine, darling. I can't wait to meet, Jamie ..."

Oh, dear, God, please help me.

  Dear Readers,

Firstly, I'm sorry if this took slightly longer to update. My excuse: my computer has gone funny on me. I need to buy a new PC, and I've been busy looking on the net for one, hence the delay of this update.

Moving along, I'm asking you to please bear with me with this chapter. I understand it's a bit heavy and slightly dark, but it had to be done because it is necessary if the story is to gel together. Despite the heavy undertone of this latest update, I hope you've enjoyed it, and you get what I'm trying to put across. On a much brighter note, thank you so much for your feedback from the previous chapter. I love it when I read your thoughts about a scene or plot. They are so appreciated, and I'm already looking forward to what you think of this latest instalment. Meanwhile, wishing you a great start to the week. Take care of yourself always and be safe. Much love.X

[brahkest-fr]

CW: trauma, maggot/worm imagery, blood, general violence | Titan n Chimera have a moment

Titan rushed down the hall, long tail flailing mercilessly behind him, tripping cursing guards as he sprinted through ancient corridors that reeked with the stench of dust and mold. Another tundra stood at the end of the dungeon, old eyes cold and weary, not at all surprised at the other’s sudden appearance. He crossed his arms as Titan approached apprehensively. He didn’t meet his gaze but the elder bore through him with a fire that could raise the dead.

“Let me see her,” Titan demanded, rare harshness in his voice.

The other tundra squinted. “Be my guest. She will be dealt with by the morning,” he spat and pushed past him, frail old shoulder barely nudging Titan’s massive frame but the sentiment was there. “I told you something like this would happen.”

He waited until the other left before gingerly opening the wooden cell door, its creaking overwhelming the deep, pained breaths from within. His jaw slacked as he gazed over the hunched form of Chimera, kneeling on bare stone, arms folded behind her and chained to the wall. She peered upwards, head heavy and swaying. Her vision was blurry but made out Titan’s broad shoulders, haloed in the dusty light of the door frame. Angelic. She thought she was dying.

Titan conversely became aware of the dull, raspy sound of Chimera’s wheezing and the utter nothing coming from his own throat. Knees buckling, Titan faltered to the floor, hand grasping at the stone as he crawled towards her in a silent frenzy, hesitantly cupping his dear friend’s face with soft paws, head pressed to hers. Her breath quivered, recognizing the gentle touch and glimmering fur that encased her trembling form in a warmth that seemed foreign and unbelievable. He smelled like spices and sun, strong on her dull senses that have been subjected to the stale, putrid jail cell. She mouthed something weakly, spittle dribbling down her chin. He wiped it away, running his hands gently down her shoulders.

She shuddered, gray and melting in the dark of his shadow.

Chimera always saw beauty in bruises. Never was anyone more moved by the blossom of welts and the flush of cut flesh. He briefly wondered if she would have thought the way she appeared now, broken and stiff, was pretty.

She would. Even this dark place - she would.

“I’m so sorry Chimera...I should have stopped you sooner. I should have been with you before-” he gasped as he nuzzled her forehead, ignoring the blood oozing from her cuts.

Should. Should. Should. He always should have something.

“Titan,” she hissed, “It’s not your fault.”

He felt her cool blood seep into his fur, a jarring sick wetness.

He lowered himself, peering into her sickly yellow eyes that struggled to flutter open. They were pussy, glassy - tired. He ran the pads of his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away thin tears she didn’t realize had fallen. He kissed the wedge of her snout, nauseated by the coldness of her skin, the stillness of her body other than minute flinches. He wrapped his plush tail around her, fur coated in the filth of her blood and sweat. She collapsed into his body, for what little slack the chains gave her. Pressing gentle fingers to the base of her spines, he massaged her neck, earning an exasperated choke from her.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked in the smallest voice he could muster.

Chimera’s eyes widened, manic and fearful though her body remained defeated and limp. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck. “The same. Always the same...” she sobbed.

He constricted her body, desperate to hold her pieces in place. “Where are you?”

Chimera grit her teeth, “It’s all red. All red and flesh and fog. She’s watching me again. But her hands are around me... I can feel her nails-” she heaved into a wailing bob back and forth, Titan pressing her to his chest.

It was routine for him, holding her, talking her through her delusions. It was the same story each time but progressively getting worse, an assault he couldn’t stop. A nightmare he couldn’t end. At first he thought Chimera simply had many peculiar fears here and there, bad dreams and the like as everyone does. But when her tough facade melted away into pure terror, screaming into the morning because she thought the hand reaching from her throat was real, Titan couldn’t pretend it was nothing. He wished it was nothing.

He loathed to be helpless when he shook her awake, failing to convince her she was safe. How the paralysis of sleep and fear would take her - how his very touch would send shock waves up her spine and out her maw as whines for help. How he was a sailor lost in the midst of her storms, throwing him wave after wave into her darkness. Drowning always inevitable. But the sun would rise and she would be there, resting on the railing of their sinking ship. She’d be pale in his nightmares. Dead. But he would hold her, tell her she was really alive and really there with him. The dark would come and swallow them whole. A story he knew the end to. He’d wake up and in a mad scramble would find Chimera sleeping restlessly in the guest room, tangled in ripped sheets. He’d breathe and slide down the door frame. Content. A moment of relief betrayed by continued suffering.

Titan was her rock though crumbling.

In all their years together, she could only cope with his hands stroking the whole of her back as the terrors would keep her up at night and plague her throughout the day with visions she couldn’t understand nor ones he could ease away. Chimera was always her strongest out in the city where she put on a brave face that day after day cracked slowly, along fault lines that he knew too well - the pinches to her forehead, the distant look in her eyes, the smile that was painfully fake. She tried her best to avoid being a burden though Titan would never consider her as such. It was hard to convince her that this nightmare was his own as well, something he chose to participate in, something he wanted to help heal. She’d look at him like a bug to flick away but like a tick he stuck to her side, sharing in the cursed blood. The gods awful nights and tortured days. The unholy body in alien skin.

Often Titan’s thoughts looped back to Sorrow, the vile witch they visited years ago for some semblance of an answer. It was said she knew everything. Foolish of them to think they would get a straight answer from a creature who delighted in the plights of dragons. The snowy, angelic imperial whose divine body was draped in silk and stars smugly sneered, a soft hand trailing down her own neck to chest, indulging in the deliciousness of their desperation.

“The gods certainly like to choose their favorites, don’t they? How cruel of them,” she laughed sweetly, predatory evil behind cold alabaster eyes.

It was hardly an answer but answer enough. Chimera was a victim of divinity, an ant under a magnifying glass. But what solution they could muster would elude them.

It would break them.

And now sits Chimera, kneeling under a shadow of death, oblivious to the world around her except the all consuming thoughts worming holes in her mind since childhood. Squirming like maggots in a wound, hungry to burrow and fester, their chafing claws scratched at her ears, throbbing rustling heartbeats haunted her sleep and peeled away her resolve. She’d pick at them like dead skin, indulging in habits that would only give her seconds of relief. A fight here. A fight there. Hours of physical training. Her mood was always electric and frenzied, focused on the next thing that would distract her. The worms hollowed the space just under her skin, slithering like plump veins in sickening patterns only she could see. Scratching. Wriggling. Squirming.

Titan often had his aristocratic duties and she knew that’d she’d have to cope alone, avoided by neighboring dragons too fearful or annoyed at the ridgeback who stalked the streets with a fervor that danced on the edge of violence. She suffered in silence, other than her wails that verbalized at the cusp of dawn in the arms of her friend who forced her to share his home, worried what such terrors would make her do. What they did make her do.

-

The grand library was dead silent. Dark. Titan's feet froze on the cold marble floor that could not be a more obvious sign to leave. She’s gone, he thought briefly - unwillingly - and shook his head. No. No. He can help her. She’s here and he’ll help her.

He found her deep in the basement of the library, surrounded by books meant to be locked up now lay open faced, ghostly runes visibly tearing themselves from the pages. Screaming wails from nowhere bounced off the walls as Chimera sat in the middle of a magic circle, muttering a language not even the Shade knew, lost in thought. Possessed. He yelled to her, held back by an invisible force of her own creation and she turned, face wet and screaming, desperate to end her torment. While an ancient tongue left her lips, she mouthed, help me.

Please.

Titan, filled with a fury and desperation that puppeteered his movements, tore through the magic barrier with a feral violence masked by the ghostly paleness of his face: a visible trace of doubt should he fail.

Why couldn’t he be here sooner.

He pulled her away from the cursed tomes but not without a fight as she flailed, child-like and dangerous, claws narrowly digging into the scruff of his throat. In this effort he forgot how strong she truly was, tangling themselves in a heap of limbs. In a last attempt to summon some gods’ forsaken horror, Chimera flew to a book, screeching its words like a siren until Titan grabbed her by face, tearing her away along with a vibrant strip of flesh from chin to eyebrow. Reeling back in pain and blinded by blood, she collapsed, pooled in sweat and sobs as she held her cheek, crying for it all to end, for the maggots in her brain to cease their chatter. Her back arched and she tore at her scales as if covered in ants, rolling along the cool floor to disperse the heat in her muscles. Titan loomed over her, hands unsure what to hold, how to touch. It was a piercing self awareness of his vulnerability in that moment. He heard yelling from above, likely guards posted outside. Chimera kept screaming, scratching, panting, crying. He shakily stared at his paws, fur now sticky with sweat and blood and grime. He wiped his hands in frantic motions, desperate to clean himself of the viscera he drew but it only smeared and matted his fur in pungent red. It was all wrong. Everything was wrong. He didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t know what to do.

-

He was beside her again now, no more confident than before but he could hide that, for now. His arms wrapped around her shoulders as she wailed, biting into his flesh, drawing crimson over his sunset fur. The pain was dull and fleeting while his thoughts were scattered and distant in the love he wished was enough. Her ribs cracked as she heaved in coughing fits, delicate and ready to burst. He wanted the floor to fall away, enveloping them in a comforting darkness - a place of attractive nothingness. He wished for a lot of things in that moment.

His tailed tightened, python-tight and unwillingly to let go. The torn flesh cutting across her eye festered, swollen and red. He forced himself to keep from turning away. You did that. Her sobs slowed and she was coming back to the present, away from the pit of worms who for now would slumber, buried deep under her skin, ghosts pricking their nails in anticipation against her bones. He stared at the chains bolted to the wall. Brittle.

“Chimera?”

She hung her head. Resigned.

“I want you to run.”

[imagine-loki]

Blushing in His Colours, Chapter 29

TITLE: Blushing in His Colours CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 29 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki being a Daddy Dom, his adores and loves his little, worships the ground she walks on. She has vaginismus, but he couldn’t be more supportive with her. RATING: M

‘What’s happening?’ Mia asked as she walked into the main living room one day.

Most of the team were there, Tony, Steve, Natasha, Wanda, Thor and Maria.

‘We are conducting some interviews for a trainee to help out in the lab with science stuff.’ Natasha said.

‘We’ve narrowed it down to a few. The best candidate is on his way, he has good credentials. Is ready to start ASAP too. Hopefully he will be a good fit and mean we don’t need to drone on through any other interviews.’ Tony sighed, stacking some papers to the side of him.

Mia smiled and took a seat at the other table, booting up her laptop. She had just taken some pictures of Loki and Clint doing some training outside, to upload to social media.

She was so engrossed in her work, that she barely registered when the guy came in for his interview. He was sat down and talking with Tony before Mia registered his voice…

Glancing up, she only saw the back of his head because of where he was sitting, but she still recognised him. She felt her stomach drop, like she was about to be sick.

Quickly putting her laptop in her bag, she stood up as quietly as possible and made a move for the door. As she passed him by, not looking at him so he wouldn’t see her face, Tony stopped her.

‘Oh, Mia. Would you mind hanging around, I’ve got a good feeling about this guy.’ He grinned at the applicant, who was very impressive so far. ‘Would be good to get a profile done.’

Mia’s eyes were wide, she tried to keep calm as she looked at Tony. But that’s when the guy recognised her.

‘Mia? Little Mia?’ He asked, smirking.

Mia cringed and turned to face him. She forced a smile. ‘Hi, Liam.’

‘You two know each other?’ Steve asked.

‘Yes… We used to date.’ Mia said quietly, trying not to look at anyone directly. ‘I uhm, have to be somewhere, I’ll catch use later.’

Liam scoffed. ‘Always running away, timid and shy Mia. Needing someone to hold her hand, to protect her.’ Liam said as he leaned back in his chair cockily and folded his arms over his chest.

Suddenly the rest of them weren’t so keen on his attitude change all of a sudden.

Mia ignored him and turned to head out.

‘I’m surprised a needy baby like yourself has managed to get a job here with the Avengers.’

Mia stopped dead, feeling rage bubble up inside her. Yet also fear and sadness. She glanced back over her shoulder, glaring at him.

‘Do the team know? How you’re so uptight you can’t even relax enough for sex. That you need someone to look after you, because you can’t look after yourself. It won’t be long before you leave here, in search of a Daddy. Because you can’t cope alone.’ He smirked.

‘That’s enough!’ Tony said to Liam. ‘This interview is over.’

Liam laughed. Mia felt tears brimming in her eyes, she turned around to fully face him. Wanting to say something, anything. But she couldn’t find the right words and she felt so humiliated, especially on front of the others.

‘Aww, has the little baby got nothing to say?’

‘Enough! Get out!’ Tony said angrily as he stood up.

‘You better leave before Loki gets here.’ Steve warned him.

Liam scoffed. ‘Loki? As if he would be dating her.’

But then Mia noticed Liam’s eyes widening at something, or someone, behind her. She heard heavy footsteps coming in.

Loki.

He looked absolutely murderous as he walked into the room, in his full armour from being out training. His eyes were locked onto Liam, nostrils flaring as he moved in behind Mia.

‘She has a Daddy.’ Loki snarled low, sliding a hand to the back of Mia’s neck, stroking her softly to let her know she was ok.

But she couldn’t help the tears that fell down her cheeks. She couldn’t take it anymore and ran out of the room.

Loki started to cross the room towards Liam, taking large, threatening steps. Liam was already shaking in his boots as he scrambled up to his feet, knocking the chair over, he quickly picked it up and put it back under the table. He moved back, away from Loki, with his hands out towards him.

‘L… Look… I… I was only joking. Pl, please… Don’t hurt me.’ He whined, backing away until he couldn’t go any further because of a wall. He was right to be scared, as he had seen the drone footage of Loki, so knew what he was dealing with. Heck, he wouldn’t want to be on the wrong end of any of the team, really.

‘Loki… he’s just a pathetic boy, who clearly enjoys humiliating women. He’s not worth it.’ Thor said to try and calm Loki down.

But Loki was angry. No, he was furious.

Stopping a few feet away from him, Loki put his hand out and curled his fingers inwards as if grabbing him. Liam gasped as it felt like a hand was actually around his throat. He put his hands up to his neck in a panic, gasping for breath. Loki raised his hand up and Liam moved up the wall, flailing his legs about.

‘Loki!’ The rest of them said, but they didn’t want to try and stop him because of how angry he was.

‘Loki, stop! Mia needs you to comfort her, not to get into trouble for killing some worthless idiot.’ Tony said desperately.

Whilst part of him wouldn’t have actually minded if Loki killed the little twerp, he didn’t want to deal with the aftermath. And he knew it would cause trouble for Loki. Which was the last thing he would need, Mia too.

Loki knew the others were right. So he tossed Liam across the room, hurting him but not killing him, as he went flying into a book shelf, breaking it.

The God stormed over to Liam and loomed over him as he cowered on the floor, curling himself up and begging not to be hurt.

‘If you ever show your face here again, I will make sure to end you.’ Loki growled.

That wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.

Steve and Tony then rushed over and hauled Liam up to his feet, to escort him out of the building.

‘What he said’ Loki started to say to the others.

‘Just go comfort Mia!’ Maria said as she ushered him away.

Loki knew they wouldn’t care what was said, they didn’t care what happened behind closed doors. The subjects he touched upon certainly wasn’t something that was to be ashamed of anyway. They knew Liam was bang out of order.

Tony just couldn’t believe the sudden change in his attitude. But he was glad they’d seen it now rather than after hiring him.

Loki found Mia in their room, she was curled up in the corner crying. Loki went straight to her and pulled her onto his lap, comforting her as he rocked back and fore.

‘Shhh, shhh. It’s alright, sweetling. Let it all out. He won’t hurt you again, I promise.’ Loki hummed, kissing the top of her head.

It took a while before Mia felt able to speak. She looked up at Loki, he wiped her tears away and smiled down at her.

‘I’m sorry.’ She whispered.

Loki frowned. ‘Why are you apologising? You have nothing to apologise for. There aren’t enough words to describe that despicable imbecile. I should’ve crushed him while I had the chance.’ Loki growled angrily, but he quickly composed himself. ‘Being a little and having vaginismus is nothing to be ashamed about, he is the one who should be sorry for taking the mickey out of you. I’m guessing he never understood about vaginismus and didn’t understand your needs?’

‘No… He got angry that he couldn’t have sex with me, which I think probably made it worse. And he found me far too needy, didn’t like how clingy I was. I tried not to be, but I couldn’t help it. Then he found my diary and read about how I wanted a Daddy Dom.’ She said quietly.

Loki kept stroking her back, he cupped her chin and tilted her head up to him.

‘You are who you are, and he doesn’t appreciate that. He is not worthy of any of your time, none at all. Please, don’t let him upset you. It seemed to me that he was perhaps surprised that you’re working here, where he wants to be. He’s jealous and went on the attack.’ Loki nuzzled her nose with his own.

‘Maybe… But, now the others know. What will they think?’ She gasped, getting nervous again.

Loki pressed a gentle but firm kiss to her lips, making her melt a little.

‘You’re mine. I love you. I am yours. That’s all that matters, sweetling. Anyone who dares to say anything otherwise, I’ll rip their head off.’ Loki said with a low growl against her lips, making her heart flutter.

She started crying again a bit, but not from sadness. Because she knew she was truly loved by Loki.

After comforting her, Loki made love to her. In their own way, with his cock between her thighs, rubbing against her. He marked her, biting her neck and sucking hard, to make sure there would be a mark for everyone to see. He felt very possessive with her, more than normal. It was still intimate and tender though, Loki always managed to make it work.

Not only was Mia’s body exploding in pleasure, but her heart was exploding with love, too.

[now-im-a-belieber]

dinner and diatribes

a/n: Hello! I put it off as long as I could but I just HAD to start writing. So, Here it is, my first BoB fic! Any and all feedback is appreciated.

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After graduating and settling into the swing of the life you wanted to live, the universe seemed to actively work against you.

You did not get accepted into the college of your dreams. And the underfunded local university you wasted away at was the bane of your existence. You could barely land a job with all the hours you were required to stick to campus, and only made enough money walking dogs and watering plants to pay for tuition and the occasional new outfit. 

When you started to see the light at the end of the tunnel, with a few hundred saved away, and some time opening up to find career opportunities, the chatter about war turned from gossip to gospel. 

In fact, you'd made it all the way to the opposite side of a fine mahogany desk for your first full fledged interview when your dreams were promptly crushed. The man meant to interview you rushed in with flustered news he'd only just found out himself. He told you the company was shutting down. All the nation's money was being sorted to aid in the war. The president had called for rationing to start. 

The man was near tears when he asked you to leave, replacing a goodbye with a hopeful wish you might be able to come back again one day. 

You marched home at a loss. And the worst thing of all, was the fact that you didn't seem to have anyone to talk to about it all.

The best of your friends had moved away one by one, well meaning phone calls only coming from a couple now and again. Some weekends you managed a stroll through the park with Janice Dean. And you hadn't missed a single one of Rudy Delacroix's card parties. But the one friend you'd always been able to call upon seemed ever less interested in being a part of your life. 

Joe was busy as everyone else, you knew. But when he started canceling long standing plans, and forcing smiles when you skipped up to ask him on a last minute adventure, you realized something must have been very wrong. 

Over breakfast you'd prod him for answers. He'd joke about the state of the world and steal what was left on your plate. So, nothing could have been too wrong. Right?

Joe always entertained your random stops by, and offered you drinks and listened to you complain about uni. He’d curse the place and drag you to pubs and sneak you into films and waste hours by the waterfront laughing about nothing with you. He’d go great lengths to help you forget your dreary days, even if just for a moment. But lately you noticed Joe had stopped trading his own complaints- the kind he claimedvno one else would tolerate hearing besides you. 

And then… he stopped talking at all. Right when you figured it was time to ask what the hell the matter was. Joe wasn't at his place last you swung by, like you so often did. He didn't come around yours like he so often managed. He didn't answer his phone when you rang, and a real worry sprouted through you when the next time you tried, the line went dead.

And then you did see Joe. At the local grocer. You spotted his profile across the aisle and moved to meet him. And he clearly saw you too. When he did, he moved the other way, and disappeared from the stall all together, leaving you to panic over what you might've said or done to upset him so.

You went about your mundane week with a heavy heart. While you seemed to lose hope in the very near future, the world spiralled out of control outside of your windows. And you had no one to talk to about it. Until Joe's mother called. 

"Come round for dinner, won't you love?"

"Of course, ma." You'd been calling the woman by her motherly title since you and Joe first fused at the hip some odd years back. Since then his family had included you in most every occasion they could manage. Until a certain someone up and broke tradition a week or so ago...

"Great! Joe didn't want a big send off but we all know he'll want you to join in the last big family meal before he goes.”

His mother chirped through a sigh that crackled from the other line. And in her all too casual remark lied a clear answer to the impasse you'd been facing. 

"He what?" You asked low, through your teeth, with a sense of urgency you'd never felt in life, till now. 

"He didn't tell you did he?" Joe's mother seemed to ask less more than she seemed to realize; and before you could think up the right thing to say, you slammed the phone down, grabbed your purse, and flew out the door. 

Of course this was happening. How had you failed to realize? You shouldn't have had to realize. Joe should have told you he was shipping out. Everyone seemed to be. But he should have said so. He'd always told you everything. From the embarrassing to the inconsequential, Joe hadn't held back from droning deadly details to you since he'd started. The fact that something this detrimental had been hidden away sent smoke from your ears as you marched toward his family's home. 

The windows across the little brick cottage were all opened, the late day breeze blowing you up the porch steps. You traded knocking for bursting in the door. There wasn't time left to waste. And the realization hit you all at once… but you had a mission to complete before becoming all too overwhelmed. 

Joe's mother ducked out of way, a tray of warm food in hand. She did not try and stop your storm through the kitchen. The only one you’d taken by surprise was Joe, who turned from the sink with eyes as wide as empty dinner plates. 

"You didn't tell me?" You seethed, heading straight for him. Joe started to back away, moving toward the patio doors with his hands held in a pitiful defense. 

"I'm sorry-"

"Sorry?!"

He kept moving. So you marched after him, out into the yard; shouting all the way asking how the hell he could've kept this from you. How you were supposed to cope with all the worry you’d feel the longer he spent storming the front lines. Asking, flippantly, if he’d tell you what it was all like, or if you’d have to find out from a soldier who'd come knocking to tell the last of Joe’s news.

"I said I'm fuckin' sorry." Joe boomed, stopping near the trees that lined his family's property. You didn’t regret your frantic interrogation but you wished voicing your worst fears of losing him for good hadn’t been what finally got Joe to say something like he meant it.

You halted when he did, stunned to silence. But only for a beat. You watched Joe sigh and bring his hands to his face. 

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" You pressed, much quieter but with disappointment ever present in your tone. You stepped a little closer, willing your friend to speak up. At least now you could see he was trying too. Joe tossed his head back, and shifted his weight to lean against a dying tree. 

"I don't know." He shrugged finally. It wasn't what you wanted to hear, but it was more than you had in awhile.

"I-I guess I didn't know how to." Joe spoke in a tone you'd never quite heard him use before. A terribly hopeless croak. 

"Didn't know how to tell me?" You had to laugh a little. All you ever did was tell each other things. 

"Didn't know how to leave you." Joe pointed, like it was obvious. You watched his jaw clench as you were baffled into silence once more. But only for a second.

"Well it seems like you've only got one night left to figure out how." You wanted to cry. "Thanks for wasting all the time we could've spent figuring it out together." 

You started to turn, only to hide the tears stinging your eyes. But as you stepped aside, Joe wrapped his hand around your wrist and yanked you to face him again.

"I'm an idiot but I am not stupid enough to let you go." He said, still keeping his hold on you. 

"I panicked." Joe admitted, speaking softly all of sudden. "And I’m sorry. And I don't ever want anything like that to ever happen again. I won't let it." 

You studied Joe and the look on his face and the way his eyes searched yours so easily, so acutely. Part of you wanted to keep shouting, to really drive home how abandoned you’d felt. But you could see how he'd withered under the weight of knowing so. But you couldn't even begin talking about what was meant to happen next... it was all too overwhelming. For as long as you could remember, you'd never not been near one another. 

"I wished I never had to find out how shitty a day without you felt. I'll always regret bringing it on.

As your mind raced and your heart ached, your brow furrowed when Joe started to move away from you. His spare hand latched onto your other wrist. And he knelt.

"I didn't mean to leave you out. I never want to again." Joe emphasized each word as he strung them together. And after a long pause he spoke again. "So...marry me?"

You wanted to laugh. A good hearty nausea inducing laugh. You could admit to yourself that over the years, in the very depths of solitude, you'd secretly wished for a moment like this, with Joe. But never in a zillion years, least of all now, had you seen it coming. 

You felt Joe's grip tighten as you blinked, bending ever so slightly closer to meet his eye.

"You're fucking crazy." You said, a montage of this week playing through your head. 

"Please." Joe desperately whispered. He wasn't begging you to be with him. He was only hoping that the two of you might make your always being together official. How could you say no?

"Yeah. Yes, of course, Joe-" You finally let a small chuckle escape as your tears started to bubble over. And before you'd finished stammering acceptance, Joe sprung to his feet and lifted yours off the ground in a long overdue embrace. 

He set you down and caught his breath and you started to lean in with a new, unabashed desire to press yours lips to his. But the guy spoke up with a gasped realization.

"Oh, I have got some good news." He grinned, mischievously. You only rose a brow and waited for the penny to drop. 

"I don't leave for a week." 

You understood every possibility that came from his news, and found despite every grim reality closing in around the two of you that the future was full of blindingly bright silver linings. 

Joe lifted you off the ground again, this time as he moved to start back inside. You bargained for him to put you back down, as he carried you toward the kitchen.

"We're getting married!" Joe called to whoever might've been around to listen. 

"That was quick. And just in time for dinner." His mother chirped, as you were returned to solid ground.

"Quick? I've been tryin' to do that since sometime after highschool." Joe pointed, following as you sauntered further in the room, smoothing your clothes and hiding a blush. 

"I meant the two of you have spatted longer over the color of the sky." His mother held a whisk your way, while fixing her eyes on her son. "I'm glad you worked this one out in record time." 

Joe reached for your hand as you stood, listening best you could, all of your senses entirely preoccupied by the man at your side. 

"And have you finally come to this joyous conclusion?" His mother softened, abandoning her dishes to shuffle toward the two of you. She gave out hugs and squeaks of excitement and gasped before taking off around the corner. She beckoned the two of you to follow her, and after a shared chuckle you did. 

His mother was stood at the vanity in her room, waving the pair of you in. And after only a second of pilfering through draws, did she pull out a ring. She gave it to Joe and said it was his grandmothers. The spritely woman shot you a beaming wink before creeping out of the door she'd only just invited you into. 

Then it was just you and Joe. Like usual. At fucking last.

He said nothing as he reached out to pull you nearer. He bit back a smile as he slid the diamond on your finger. Joe broke your admiration of the thing by placing both his hands on either side of your face. And he kissed you like you always dreamed of being kissed. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back like you always secretly longed to do. 

You spent the rest of that night squished between him and his family at the dinner table, like usual. They celebrated your news. And there was very little talk of where Joe was headed. But when he brought up the war and his leaving, he held your hand under the table and you felt the hug of the gold band around your finger and couldn't find reason to worry too much. You’d have time enough for that later. You'd miss him. You already did, a little. 

But you'd gotten through the worst yet, and come out of it hand in hand. But before he left, till heaven only knew when, you’d officially and always be together.

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 46

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Wutai was burning when we returned. We could see the smoke a ways off. I rushed to help, flying with Limit Breaker. People were trapped under rubble, a collapsed house and I picked it up off them allowing them to escape despite the flames licking out at me.

With my aura I was amongst the safest.

Neo caught up to me but I was already moving. I'd seen enough burnt down villages for a life-time.

I found Godo in the middle of town, he was directing the firefighting crews about.

"What happened here?"

"Strife-San? We were attacked. Bandits in the woods. Ever since Branwen took over they've been getting bolder. They took my daughter."

"Why would they do that?" My hands itched. I was jumping out of my skin. That murderous something rose up in me. The Grimm we'd slaughtered on the way back had satisfied me none.

"Ransom. They believe they'll be able to hold her over me and receive our supplies. It's not the first time we have been attacked in such a way. Though I was stronger back then. I fear for my daughter's life."

"I'll help you. You just worry about putting out the fires. I'll see about getting you your daughter back."

I had a great deal of pent up rage that could only be quelled against human opponents. Things prone to suffering deserved my attention, not like the Grimm.

"I would be in your debt."

I dismissed him with a wave of my gloved hand and turned to the tracks in the earth. My preternatural ability to track Grimm wouldn't help here but the footprints were clear in the soft ground and I was faster than even your average hunter. I'd catch up to them.

I flew through the woods. One hand out and the other back holding Crocea Mors up in its broadest form. I hungered for violence. The little book about my construction in my pocket felt as heavy as the relic by my side. It felt as heavy as Crocea Mors, even.

I wanted to use both my sword and the relic. After this… after this I'd give it a try. I needed something to help me cope and I wasn't sure murder and drugs were going to do it for me. I really wanted to kill something, though, something that could feel pain. And I really wanted to get these bugs out of my eyes.

Maybe knowledge would be the key. It was one of the four most powerful relics on Remnant's face. I'd be a fool to not try something with it.

I glid inches above the forest floor. The bramble and uneven ground which might have tripped me up couldn't slow me. I leaned forward over the vines and flew faster. It was dusk, only getting darker. Someone who couldn't fly would be seriously slowed and hampered by the terrain. I low profiled the tree branches and flew right through them where they might delay me, my aura and I weren't to be halted by this.

There was a reason most horror stories took place in the woods and at the moment I felt like such a terror.

I must have flown kilometers, chasing them through the underbrush they trampled and I merely breezed past. I left Neo behind but she'd be able to catch up if she was decent at tracking. Teleporting would also help her match me.

I could make out a light in the woods ahead. A small light which burned beneath the great pine trees.

I hovered forward and transitioned to easy footsteps. "Found you…" I murmured. I wanted to murder. I wanted death. I wanted to kill.

The bandits had a building made from hewn logs to make walls. I could spot the light of their campfire inside and a few tents. They didn't have wide enough walls for battlements and had no sentries. Instead it sounded like a party inside.

Neo appeared beside me. She panted hard for a minute or two as I took stock of the situation.

"Like I said, go nuts." I told her. "Personally I'm taking no prisoners."

She laughed silently beside me.

I front-flipped over the logs and landed in the middle of their camp near the blazing fire.

I spotted Yuma tied up with rope by the fire. She was surrounded by celebrating bandits who slowly went for their weapons. Well slowly relative to the speed I was running at.

"Things may not work out for you," I whispered, holding the broadsword level. Blue light streamed off my body and I felt good in the elevated state.

Some of them wore armor imitating Grimm bone. If they wanted Grimm I'd show them Grimm. I was a can of that type of worm. I would show them the trouble that meant. The beast in my chest roared something angry and malevolent.

I attacked. One nearest me went for a sword at his belt. I slashed him. Biting deep into aura, I knocked him to the ground. I brought my sword down in a hacking motion once, twice, three times and I sliced through him at the neck and sent his head rolling.

I felt the violent spirit inside me only grow louder. It was hungry for bloodshed and I was going to give it to it.

Spears, axes, guns all pointed at me. Neo flickered into place beside me and bullets bounced off her bullet proof umbrella.

I rolled behind her taking cover from the storm of bullets that ensued. When there was a reprieve I flew out from behind her and slashed down at a girl nearby me wearing that Grimm white bone on her shoulders. She flinched back and raised her pistol. I swung upwards and clipped her arms. Another man came at me with a spear but I blocked it to the side.

I Cross Slashed him and he fell into four pieces. Even without Limit I was feeling good. I… I wasn't sure I wanted to stop at these bandits. Wutai was weak. I could kill everyone there and no one would be the wiser.

I came back to the girl with the pistol and slashed her across the ribs. Then brought my blade down at her shoulder. Her aura flared and shattered as I thrust the wide blade into her chest. I gave it a shaking motion, bringing the Titania up and she fell off with a shlick noise.

I swung horizontally at one with a rifle and he tried to block with his weapon but I cut right through it and knocked him to the ground. I kicked him in the chest where he fell with my right foot in a snapping tai-kick. Then I stepped forward and snapped out a round kick with my left. Then I brought the blade around lightning fast and cut him at the torso, just above the arm, and all the way through his rib cage.

Another still I punished with a devastating falling aerieal attack. I sliced at him and tore away a chunk of aura. Then I side-flipped and slashed with the motion cutting him again. He tried to stab down at me but I caught it easily on my massive blade. I lifted my weapon and the motion tossed him backwards and I was on him with the cuts until he fell forever. Horizontal. Vertical. Diagonal. Vertical.

Neo landed beside me and pulled at my sleeve. She got my attention. I glanced at her face to see something like fear on her expression. I'd never seen her look like that. I followed her gaze. I turned to look at a woman in a Grimm faced mask with a long red katana. She had a wild mane of black hair that went waist length.

"You have some nerve attacking me."

"I have no idea who you are."

She laughed beneath her mask. "I'm the Khan of Khans."

"Raven Branwen. I know your daughter," I confessed.

"I have no daughter."

I charged Limit for a beat and was rewarded with the trailing, glowing, blue wisps. I twirled my weapon about and placed it between us. She waved her Katana at me, it was nearly four feet long but it looked fragile in comparison to Crocea Mors.

"I would know your name, Warrior. You know mine."

"I'm Cloud Strife. Your reign of destruction and pillaging ends here."

"Doubtful. Many have tried and stood where you now stand."

"None of them were like me. I am danger's oldest son."

She blurred forward as though to get around me but I matched her speed and blocked her. She lowered her weapon slightly. Because of the mask, I couldn't identify what emotion she felt. She was fast, like Cinder or Tyrian fast.

But I'd kept pace with Cinder when last we met. Raven blurred to one side, trying to flank me again but I matched her once more and our weapons collided in a flash of blue and red. She stumbled back and took stock of her situation. I was faster than her with my semblance active. I might even be outright stronger than her too by a degree. Perhaps even without my semblance. My range was superior to her too and of course, one way to look at that was that she is slower than Ruby who I was able to match at times.

I raised my weapon parallel to my face. I thrust at her but she swept it to the side. She front-flipped at me but I caught both her and her downward swing with a horizontal roof block. I held one hand on the handle and the other against the back of the blade. I held up the force of her strike and her entire body weight easily. I pressed her back and she landed on her feet neatly.

I wasn't about to back down from this fight. I felt like I had a real shot at winning it.

The beast in my chest let out a low wary murmur. It was not satisfied. I wasn't satisfied. Both I and it wanted Raven to die, just for getting in my way. It shrieked for more blood to be spilled. A devouring volume that kept rising. A drum that beat in time with my heart.

Raven came at me and slashed her katana then when I shielded she reversed it and tried to stab at me. I deflected that too and quickly brought the weight of Crocea Mors down on her head. She stepped back out of my range hurriedly, desperately avoiding the massive strike. The power of it left the earth grooved. For five feet out in front of the tip of the blade. It would have splashed that energy across her body if it had come into contact with her.

She jumped somersaulting acrobatically towards me and I just flew straight at her. Our blades met twice in a crossing gesture while in mid-air but I had some force propelling me as I flew and with a low guiding hum of metal on metal I flung her back into one of the tents.

She landed ungracefully and rolled to the side as I brought Crocea Mors thrusting vertically down where she had laid fallen. She kicked at me and I stumbled back from the force of it.

She swept her blade at my legs but I hovered over it, grabbed her and pushed her all the way back to the wall where the bandits had hurried logs to make up their camp.

I tried to push her straight through it but I only managed to slam her into it. At this range neither of our swords could be brought to bear and it turned into a melee.

She elbowed me in the face and down across my eye as I went to knee her in the gut. She knocked my knee back down, catching it on her one open palm.

I grabbed her by the shoulder and stuck out one leg and tossed her back all the way across the clearing. She rolled to her feet. Bringing her katana up to handle what came at her next.

I slashed at her twice before I thrust forward and caught her by the belly. I pulled twenty feet straight up in the air and came slamming back down on her with a Climb-Hazard. She dodged out of the way of the second hit. And sliced me across the chest. She went for another cut about mid-height but I deflected it and with a shout I slung her away and into the wall of the camp once more.

I ran up to her and slashed horizontally in a move that brought the fifteen foot high wall of logs down on us. She flickered out of the way but I cut my path up through the falling tree trunks.

"You know I thought you'd have a whole entourage with you, following the queen of the bandits. Seems to me you're mostly alone. Why is that?"

She jumped at me and I Limit Break blade-beamed her. The tall beam caught her by the legs and dragged her into it. The move blended against her aura until it began to crackle, then it tossed her away.

No longer glowing blue I found myself still propelled on nothing more than my will. I was tractionless above the ground and I slid at her on a pocket of air until I slashed at her baseball style and it connected across her body and sent her rebounding off the ground.

"Vernal is dead. I didn't kill her but your little spring maiden is gone." I went on.

I stood still, just charging away at my next Limit Break. I'd get it eventually and once I did I'd be in a comfortable position to end her.

"You work for her, for Salem."

"Yes." I breathed. "And no. We have a complicated relationship. Family is like that, though. I'm sure you understand."

She moved fast enough to leave behind an after-image. She sliced at me and I blocked the first attack but the second caught me under the ribs. It buffeted me back but I quickly regained my balance. She came around for a third but I twisted my much wider blade around to catch it.

She front kicked at me and caught me in the center of the chest. I was once more knocked back but I wasn't losing any real ground. I laughed. She cut me four more times in the blink of an eye. Slashing back and forth with her long red katana. The pain felt amazing. There was a popping sound as the air expanded around me and my semblance returned.

Blue flames licked out and I caught her sword arm, picked her up and slammed her face first into the ground once. Twice. Three times. Then I delivered a boot to her head that sent her rolling. I swept after her on a pocket of air and gave her an upwards gold swing.. It was a strike upwards that caught her by the chest.

It launched her into the air and I chased after her. I slashed at her with my heavy weapon while she was airborn and helpless. I spent Limit on an eight cut move. I hit her with two diagonal cuts that rebounded off her aura. Then I hit her with four horizontal ones. Then I front-flipped and delivered two more massive vertical ones alternating each direction.

The final hit sent her rocketing to earth where she threw up dust and dirt. I landed gently nearby and began to pace over to where she was slowly struggling to rise.

She sheathed her blade, I watched the compartment cycle for a moment until she withdrew it and shot a current of electricity at me.  It came at me like a curtain and I watched the yellow blade she had drawn shatter as she spent the dust forged into it.

It hardly mattered since the bolt threw me off my feet into the encampment wall and left me singed. She slashed at the air and a red portal appeared. She stepped into it and was gone as the portal faded and collapsed.

I screamed. When I picked myself up I howled and stabbed some poor bandit soul who was still standing too close, perhaps waiting to finish me off. My aura was indeed on the lower side, but not so low that I'd be finished by scum like that.

I reached out with my sword and slashed at the man's purple aura until it gave way and I sliced through his body too.

Neo reappeared beside me and for a moment I wanted to kill her too. I breathed in and out, nice and easy.

"I'm fine," I said through grit teeth. "Just pissed off she escaped me. I fucking had her dead to rights with that Octa-Slash."

She gestured at the remaining bandits.

"Kill them. Torture them. Whatever pleases you." She nodded looking relieved and pleased. She vanished, flickering away.

I walked over to Yuma and sheathed my broadsword. I pulled the longsword free from my back and cut her loose. I pulled the gag that had been in her mouth out.

She reached out and embraced me and the monster in my heart that I'd discovered in Merlot's laboratory died down. I just held the young girl in my arms and shushed her.

She looked over at what Neo was doing and I pulled her head back.

"Look at me, sweetheart. Don't pay that any attention." There was screaming coming from behind us.

"You saved me."

"It was the right thing to do." I said it gruffly like I didn't want to believe it. Ruby… Pyrrha… neither would be proud of they'd seen what I'd become and before this young girl I felt a crawling sense of shame.

I was ashamed of letting the darkness in my heart rule me.

So what if I was a puppet? So what if I was born a monster? So what even if I had to kill people? Even if I have to torture people?

I didn't have to like it. I wasn't sure if that was enough of a difference to set me free. I wasn't even sure if it gave me a sense of hope. More than anything I still felt an inching dread. Maybe I was hopeless. Maybe I was doomed.

But there was a difference between doing what I must for the sake of doing what I had to and doing what I wanted to because I could.

I didn't have to be like Tyrian. I didn't have to be like Salem's agents. I could still choose what I wanted. And tonight I'd chosen death and torture over everything else. I'd wanted that. Me.

And I couldn't take it back.

And a thousand saved little girls didn't change that.

It didn't change the fact that if Wutai hadn't been burning when I arrived, I might have been the one to burn it down. If there hadn't been a drive, something for me to focus my rage on I'd have been the cold creature that stalks the night. Just a puppet all the same.

I pulled the relic from my side and pulled the top off of it.

Blue gas floated free of it as it drifted loose of my fingers. The fire stopped flickering and held in place. Yuma held her shuddering sobs still.

A woman formed of that mist. She stretched over her golden chains and yawned.

"Ah- tell me now. What knowledge do you seek? Three questions yet remain this century. So ask, and I shall answer."

"Mother...How do I stop her? She can control me. So how do I stop Salem?" I choked out.  

The floating woman gave me a small sad smile.

"Stop her? Or vanquish her?"

"There's a difference?"

"You tell me."

"Either."

"You cannot vanquish her. As long as this planet turns, she shall walk it's face," the blue woman spoke. She floated forward and cupped my face in her hands. I looked away and where I touched her, her fingers faded into that blue mist.

"She's immortal? She's unbeatable, then."

"Perhaps. Only her mind. Her body can be injured, however temporarily. She can be cut and she can be lanced."

"Then… then she can be stopped. Just… just…"

"Just not forever. She will never be just a memory."

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

-WG

[judywritesncry]

disencumber.

Have you ever stare at the void and thought, what went wrong? The melancholic feeling when you take a trip at the gloomy memory lane. The memories, all good and bad, are so vivid. They were all in front of me, flashing like some sort of storm, flowing endlessly.

“My God, I’m so lonely.”

Funny how the pandemic did not only killed people and stopped everyone’s lives for a moment, but it also brought up all the monsters people were trying to hide, including mine. The fear of unknown. The uncertainty of everything. After years of pretending, here it lies in front of me, the truth that no matter how hard I try, I am alone. It was only me all along. This pandemic brought me back my habit on talking to myself whenever I need to get it off on my chest. Talking to myself. Myself. Alone. God, I always feel so blue, I’m so lonely.

“I’m falling apart over a memory And the weight in my heart is getting too heavy.”

Why can’t I forget those memories that cause me so much pain? While everyone thought that the grief in my heart would go away because it happens a long time ago, that wasn’t the case to me. Like my physical body growing, my grief also grew like a ball in a jar, growing bigger and bigger. Was it because no one talked about how am I coping up? Or no one asked if I was able to recover from those tedious memories? The problem is that, I feel all these things without knowing how to help myself.

“And I don’t want your pity I just want somebody near me.”

The pandemic made me feel so alone. I feel like it’s been ages since I was able to interact with people. I feel like the person I am now isn’t me anymore. I feel like, this pandemic robbed all those times when I should be coping, healing, and making myself fulfilled again. How can I live my life if half of me is gone? Do I need somebody to sit beside me and not say anything? Definitely yes. Do I need someone who would make me feel how dark the colors of my life are? No. If living is a gift, why does it feel so suffocating? Why does it feel like an endless suffering rather than indulgence? If there is a hell, why does it feel that all the devils are here?

“And I have this dream where I’m screaming underwater While my friends are all waving from the shore.”

Fake smiles. All you need is a set of different masks, and you are ready for another day. I am so aware that we all have dilemma to face, so I keep it all to myself. Talking and laughing to myself as if there is nothing wrong, always available to be the emotional support of those who needs. Sometimes I asked myself “How about me? Who will soothe me? Who will hear the sound of my weeping heart?” And the answer that I would always get is, me. It’s always myself, “Jesus Christ I always feel so blue.”

“Still, nobody wants me And I know no one will save me.”

Does nobody really want me, or I push them all away? Since I know how damaging I am to others, I let myself break and shred onto pieces and still, no one would notice, and I still look so vibrant and wonderful. Or maybe, I tried to talk on some of them and I am utterly disappointed with their responses. I hate myself because I can see even the smallest movement of their body, or if they are really listening or just curious about me. At the end of the day, I would look at the mirror and thought to myself, “Salvation is a lie. For you to be saved, help yourself. Because no one will.“

“And I woke up in my childhood bed Wishing I was someone else, feeling sorry for myself When I remembered someone’s kid is dead.”

The past doesn’t always stay in the past. Sometimes, it stays and grows with you. I will always hate how I tremble, weep and experience panic attack whenever something triggered my childhood trauma. The past that I don’t want to remember but would always hunt me. How I wasn’t able to enjoy the innocence and bliss of being a child. How at the very young age, I was forced to become an adult quickly, how they make me as their emotional support when I am not aware of what that means. I am so mad; I pity my younger self. I did not deserve all those emotional abuses. I hate that no one apologizes to me and instead romanticize my suffering. I was just a child during those times, I don’t want to be strong, I want to be loved.  And I… killed that kid in me and created a worst one.

“Yet now I find I’ve grown into A tall child.”

But still, I feel like I am a child. I am still longing for affection, care, and love that the people around me didn’t provide when I was young. Sometimes, I hate myself to feel that way. I wonder, what would it be look like if I grew up in a different circumstance? What if I grew up healthy in all aspects with a loving and present parent? Would I grow up differently? Different to what I have become right now?

“Mom am I still young? Can I dream a few months more?”

Mom… Dad, please hear me out. Please understand that I am still haunted by the environment you’ve created for me when I was a child. Please do not say that if I didn’t experience those things, I wouldn’t become responsible. It shouldn’t be like that; you can teach me how to be responsible without damaging myself. Please help me. I am so exasperated with how much you expect so much for me just because I am your first born. I am not a shadow behind you, just because you created me it doesn’t mean that I should be whatever you want me to be. I am my own person, and I… am lost, trapped, suffocated and alone.

Help me.

“Nobody, Nobody, Nobody Nobody, nobody, no….”

songs i used (italicized): nobody - mitski funeral - phoebe bridgers first love/late spring - mitski class of 2013 - mitski yellow is the color of her eyes - soccer mommy