#i saw a woman so beautiful i wanted her to gore me =p

[ifuckingloveryoshu]

what's your favorite ryoshu i.d. in terms of lore and drip combined? not one over the other, rather: "this i.d. has the best of both worlds."

(ramble incoming) mine's lobotomy e.g.o. red eyes & penitence; the maternal symbolism is so beautiful, how she manages to communicate with the abnormality almost like a mother to her children? mwah. SO thematically on the nose, her brusque, quiet and harsh attitude is so good for this universe. and then. her DRIP!!! all ryoshu i.d.s are beautiful to me, but she looks especially gorgeous here. embodiment of that "i saw a woman so beautiful i started crying" meme

Lobotomy EGO for sure for both also, barely need to think. I have a bias with her mother/parental symbolism. I already loved the Red Eye EGOs so getting the whole ID, I had zero complaints. Purple is just my favorite color plus I was an old lobotomy corp fan, been here since the start. I have giant bias for all the Lobotomy Ids design wise. Ryoshu's uptie story ate. Design was icing on the cake.

I saw the interaction between Spiderbud and Ryoshu just as a mother speaking to another mother or parent. Or maybe she was projecting. I liked her up-tie story as someone who's been in the situation confronting a self-righteous parent who loves her children to death. Ryoshu kept a cool head with an under laying rage as her words bite into the Spiderbud. My liking for this ID is hopeless projection, like all of Ryoshu really.

I guess her getting Penance, aside from the Gebura comparisons plus the Bloodbath EGO gift lore implications. I hate the symbol of the cross actually but One Sin and Hundreds of Good Deeds is an exception. Handing Ryoshu that and saying she resonates enough with the Jesus Christ EGO somehow, I revel in such juxtaposition at first glance. Ryoshu is a deeply brutal and guarded but there's depth in her character making me swoon for her.

Like you, I like her quiet and harsh attitude, it ironically comforts me. A personality like that is 100% a survival strategy for people in The City. Hope this answer is satisfying enough. I didn't want to get too personal today (all I have unattached to my life experiences are face value observation stuff.) But hey, caught me at a great time when thinking about how children are one of the most oppressed group in society again. Have a good life anon. Stay safe ok?

[winterarmyy]

Against All Odds | Part III

An arranged marriage with the duke's illegitimate son!bucky.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 5k++

Pairing: duke's illegitimate son!bucky x noble!female!reader

Warnings: 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, gore, blood, violence, short yet emotional smut, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, overall low intensity angst with a bittersweet ending.

A/N: i want to thank all of you for taking some of your precious time to read my fic, i really appreciate it! this is the last installment of the main series, i hope you enjoy your time.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Standing at the altar, Bucky’s heart pounded loudly; excitement and sorrow interlaced within his being. The weight of Y/N’s death still haunted him; every time he closed his eyes, those horrifying images conquered his mind.

But today, this very moment, he had been given another chance. The conflict within him was fierce; he was determined to protect her this time, to keep them safe no matter the cost. His mind raced with plans and contingencies, but all his thoughts were interrupted when the church doors opened.

As the crowd rose to their feet, for a moment, everything else ceased to exist. Y/N walked toward him, each step amplifying the intense storm swirling inside him. She was more beautiful than he remembered, more radiant than he ever thought possible. In the past, he had been unfamiliar with the nuances of his emotions, but now, with his heart fully opened, he was consumed by an all-encompassing love.

The urge to rush to her, to pull her into his arms and never let go, was almost unbearable, but he forced himself to remain composed, to hold onto the control he needed.

As she walked down the aisle, he felt like his chest was on fire; it was almost overwhelming. Memories of their past life together flashed before his eyes, a painful reminder of what he had lost and what he was determined to save. 

And as Bucky lifted her veil, he couldn’t focus on anything else; the sight of her, so radiant and beautiful, so close, so real.The delicate fabric framed her face, accentuating the soft curve of her cheeks, the gentle arch of her brows, and the deep, soulful eyes that had captivated him from the moment they met. 

When her eyes met his, he saw something unexpected in their depths; an innocence and trust that made his heart ache. He felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility to protect this woman, not just from the dangers of what lies ahead in their future but also beyond this earth; heaven or hell, it does not matter.

Bucky gently placed a hand on her waist, feeling the warmth of her body through the pristine fabric of her dress. His other hand cupped her cheek, the touch both tender and deliberate. The sight of her up close, the feel of her under his touch, was both too much and not enough. 

He leaned in and his heart raced vigorously in the trepidation of the chance that he might lose her again. But when his lips met hers, he was completely engulfed by immense euphoria. The happiness of being able to hold her again, to share this moment of tenderness, was so much stronger than the anxiety that hounded his mind. As he pulled away, he saw her blinking slowly, her cheeks flushed and her eyes filled with confusion and awe.  

To be able to see such a sight again was a blessing; Bucky thought he had lost it forever. His chest seemingly expanded to accommodate the hope and determination filling the space within his ribcage. To ensure that this time, things would be different. He had longed for this moment, to have her in his arms again, and now that it was real, it was even more profound than he had imagined.

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said softly, his voice carrying the depth of his emotions. “I hope I didn’t scare you, my dear.” The reassurance in his tone was genuine, a reflection of his own relief and longing.

“I—no, you didn’t scare me,” she managed to say; her voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes softened as he adored the tint of pink on her cheeks, “Good,” he added, his gaze tender and full of warmth. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Bucky’s nightmare was a relentless torture decorated with anguish and despair. And it was always the same series of events. Him riding through the frozen landscape, the biting cold of the snow searing through his worn leather boots. The icy wind howled around him, matching the torment that gripped his heart. The landscape blurred as he navigated the bloodied halls of their home, a once serene space now stained by violence and death.

Him, stumbling into their shared bedroom, his heart pounding in his chest as he saw her; Y/N’s body, brutally maimed and lifeless. The sight of his child, still and cold, was a dagger to his soul. The room was a horrifying tableau of shattered dreams and crushed hopes. His cries of despair echoed in the empty corridors of his mind, the reality of the scene blending with his deepest fears.

His body jerked violently as he jolted awake, the sudden shift from the nightmare to the waking world leaving him disoriented and breathless. The line between a mere dream and reality was blurred, the remnants of his terror clinging to him like a shroud.

He fumbled through the darkness, his mind racing as he struggled to grasp where he was. The echoes of his terror still haunted him, a grim reminder of the fragility of their happiness.

“Bucky?” Her voice, soft and uncertain, cut through his haze of panic. He blinked rapidly, struggling to focus.

“Y/N?” His voice was a whisper, fragile and filled with a tormented confusion. Seeing her was almost like a divine intervention, a moment of disbelief at her presence. He stared at her, trying to reconcile the vibrant, alive woman before him with the haunting vision he had just escaped.

Her presence was a stark contrast to the lifeless image burned into his mind. Seeing her breathing, speaking back to him, felt like a dream that will never come true.

Not wasting any time dwelling, his body surged forward, enveloping her in a gripping yet desperate embrace. “Y/N…” he murmured, his voice trembling with the raw intensity of his emotions. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his grief and dread pouring out in the hidden agony.

The truth of his nightmare and the burden of his misery weighed heavily on him, almost impossible to bear; at least not alone. The words he wanted to speak were trapped within him, their pressure making it hard to breathe, let alone articulate his pain.

Bucky took refuge in his wife’s arm, focusing on the feeling of her hands moving soothingly up and down his back. “I’m here,” she whispered softly. “I’m here, Bucky.” Her presence was grounding; holding him tight in a reality that felt too fragile to trust.

The night was still and intimate, and Bucky’s need for her overwhelmed him. Their connection deepened as he made love to her, each touch, each kiss a frenzied affirmation of the life they still shared; a way to anchor himself to the truth of their love amidst the chaos of his dreams.

In the opulent chamber, Bucky stood like a silent sentinel, his form partially obscured by the shadows cast from the full moon behind him. The eerie silhouette of his shadow filtering through the large, arched window. The room was a luxurious display of wealth and power, adorned with velvet drapes and golden accents.

Despite the grandeur, the atmosphere was chilling, accentuated by the presence of Bucky in his Winter Soldier attire: a black mask, heavy boots, and a sleek, tactical uniform that made him appear as if he were more machine than man.

He moved with the ghostly grace of a predator, each step intentional and calculated as he approached the enormous bed at the centre of the room. The Emperor lay sprawled beneath an elaborate canopy, his slumber seemingly undisturbed by the chaos outside his lavish walls. It was almost laughable to Bucky that such a cruel ruler, whose hands were stained with countless deaths, could rest so easily, untouched by the spectres of guilt that should have plagued him.

Bucky’s gaze was unfeeling as he surveyed the sleeping figure. The Emperor's peaceful expression was a dichotomy to the turmoil that simmered beneath Bucky’s cold exterior. His presence, unmoving and imposing, made the room feel colder, his eyes devoid of warmth or emotion.With the steely void in his mind, his purpose clear as he stalked closer, each step making the heavy boots sound like distant thunder.

The Emperor stirred, his eyes fluttering open to the sight of Bucky standing at the foot of the bed. For a moment, there was confusion in the Emperor’s eyes, quickly replaced by a smirk. "I don't remember calling for you, soldier," he said, his tone half-joking, half-curious.

This was not the first visit at such ungodly hours for Bucky. Often the Emperor would call upon him to send him out on clandestine missions or covert operations.

Bucky’s unresponsive silence made the Emperor uneasy, a subtle crack in his facade of control. As Bucky’s form loomed closer, his eyes glinted with an icy determination that cut through the darkness like a blade. The realisation of the danger crept into his expression as Bucky reached the side of the bed.

Before the Emperor managed to call out for help, Bucky’s metal hand shot out, encircling the Emperor's throat with a grip of iron. His eyes widened in shock, "What is the meaning of this?" he croaked, his voice strained as he struggled against the unyielding grip.

Bucky’s voice was a low, menacing growl. "Why did you kill them?" he demanded. The Emperor’s face twisted into a mask of genuine confusion. “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” he said, his voice strained with bewilderment.

Eyes burning with an intensity that spoke of old wounds and unending fury, Bucky was in a trance-like state. His mind focused on the Emperor as the embodiment of the callousness that had devastated his life. To him, it mattered so little whether this version of the Emperor had committed the heinous acts or not. The knowledge that past him had once inflicted such horrors was enough to ignite Bucky’s rage.

“My wife,” Bucky growled, his voice cutting through the Emperor’s confusion with chilling clarity. The Emperor’s eyes widened further, a flicker of fear beginning to replace his initial disbelief. “Why did you kill her?,” Bucky continued, his tone carrying the heaviness of an unspoken pain.

The Emperor’s expression remained in a genuine concern, though it did little to mask his growing foreboding. “I never ordered anyone to lay hands on her,” he insisted, his voice cracking with a hint of desperation. “I would have remembered something like that.”

Bucky’s gaze remained unwavering, his anger as fiery as ever. The Emperor’s words, though spoken with a semblance of sincerity, only fueled Bucky’s fury. It wasn’t merely about this specific Emperor’s actions; it didn’t even matter if he had not done the deed yet.

It was about the realisation that such brutality happened once before. Much more atrocious to know that it had been sanctioned by someone in a position of power. The sense of betrayal ran deep, rooted in the knowledge that the cruelty was a part of a larger, systemic evil that had haunted Bucky’s past.

As the Emperor tried to reason with him, his terror and desperation were transparent. "I would never harm your wife," he protested weakly, his voice trembling with an echo of dismay. Bucky’s mind flashed with ghastly memories; the cold snow he rode through, the bloodied halls leading to their shared bedroom, the image of Y/N’s body maimed, his child lifeless. The horrific images fueled his rage.

"Oh, but you will." Bucky hissed, his anger boiling beneath the surface. His free hand drew a blade, the steel glinting with deadly intent. The Emperor's eyes were wide with horror; his pleas of defence were simply a string of meaningless words lost in the wind as Bucky’s resolve hardened.

With a swift, adept motion, the blade struck through the man’s throat. The Emperor gurgled; blood bubbling from the wound as his eyes widened in shock. Bucky’s face remained impassive, his cold eyes reflecting no mercy. He plunged the blade deeper, the Emperor’s feeble attempts to grasp Bucky’s arm proving futile. 

Unfortunately for him, the first strike was not enough to quench the rage that burned within Bucky. He pulled the blade out and struck again. Again and again, the knife met its target, each jab driven by the anguish of countless painful memories. The bed beneath them soaked with the colour of crimson, the luxurious chamber now marred by the blood of its cruel occupant. The room filled with the grotesque sound of a life being extinguished, a gruesome symphony that echoed Bucky’s inner anarchy.

Bucky stood over the fallen ruler, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. As the adrenaline faded, Bucky’s vision suddenly began to blur, the edges of the room dimming into darkness. The world seemed to contract into a tunnel of darkness until a voice cut through the haze. “You really have to be that… brutal?” The voice was calm, yet filled with an air of reproach.

With his sight suddenly altered, Bucky turned towards the sound; the silhouette was unclear in his clouded vision, however he recognized the voice. “Steve,” he called out, his voice a low rasp.

Steve, the crown prince, stood in the doorway, his expression was weaving traces of concern and resignation. He took a step forward, the dim light catching the determination etched in his features. Tomorrow, he would be the new emperor, a role thrust upon him by necessity and circumstance.

Although Steve was one of the emperor’s blood; his only living male heir. His mother was not the empress but one of the many wives the emperor had taken. In the emperor's eyes, this made Steve unworthy of the crown, despite his lineage. This disdain had placed Steve in a precarious position, viewed as a threat rather than a successor.

In the past, Bucky and Wanda had seen Steve meet a tragic end, assassinated by the devout followers of the Emperor who refused to relinquish power. This time, Bucky and Wanda had approached Steve with a plan to overthrow the throne.

While withholding the truth of their origins, they convinced him to claim the crown for his own, knowing the kingdom already favoured him. The real challenge lay with the noble families, whose support was crucial. Over the past few months, Steve had skillfully manoeuvred through the intricate web of politics, winning their allegiance.

Meanwhile, Wanda had been executing a 'clean-up' operation at the magic tower, ensuring no loyalists of the emperor remained. By the time Bucky entered the emperor’s chambers, all potential threats had been neutralised. Soon, the kingdom would surely hear news of the youngest female master of the tower reigning in power.

“Hey, Buck. You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle but firm. Steve noticed the way Bucky’s eyes seemed to glaze over, staring into nothingness. Concern etched into his features, he took a step closer. Bucky blinked a couple of times, trying to clear his vision, but the blurriness persisted, leaving him disoriented.

As Bucky’s vision began to clear, he saw Steve’s concerned blue eyes staring back at him. “Yeah, just…” Bucky shoved his hand into his pocket, retrieving the teleportation stone given to him by Wanda prior to the mission. His gaze fixed on the shimmering stone, the weight of his debt to the ancient magic pressed heavily on his mind; knowing the time to pay for it was drawing near. “…just missing my wife.”

Steve watched, a silent understanding passing between them. Bucky crushed the stone in his hand, the stone's magic activated with a flash of deep red light, enveloping Bucky in its embrace, swallowing him into the abyss and back to his home, to Y/N.

Moments later, the warmth and chaos of the Emperor’s chambers vanished as the cold night air hit him as Bucky found himself on the balcony of his home. Through the transparent glass, he could see his room bathed in a faint light. Inside, Y/N was reading by the soft glow of a night lamp. The sudden swoosh of Bucky’s arrival drew her attention, and she lifted her gaze from the book to the source of the sound. Her eyes widened as she saw the dark silhouette standing on the balcony.

"Hello?" she called out softly, her voice quivering with fear. She set her book aside and stood up, her silk nightdress flowing around her like a whisper of moonlight. She walked to the balcony door, the rhythm of her heart quickened as anxiety creeped in. 

As the door opened, the cold wind tickled a shivering goosebumps on her skin. She looked up at the man, her eyes widening in surprise and anxiousness. Bucky, on the other hand, remained still; his mask and dark attire made him look as if he were a ghost from her nightmares. His eyes, however, were unmistakable. The familiar blue gaze met hers, and she recognized him instantly.

Y/N’s initial fear melted away as she stepped closer towards him, "Why are you out here in the cold, love?" she asked gently, standing only inches from his foreboding self. The distinction between them was hardly difficult to spot: her soft, fragile appearance in her silk nightdress against his imposing, almost monstrous form in his combat gear.

Bucky stayed silent, his eyes trained on her as if trying to memorise every feature, every delicate line of her face. She reached up, her fingers slightly trembling to the cold, gently removing his mask. The emotionless facade that he put up crumbled almost instantly, his eyes softened as she smiled up to him. Her hand reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the roughness of his stubble, "Come inside," she urged softly. "You're freezing."

He didn’t argue as he allowed himself to be led into the warmth of their room. Y/N’s hands moved with gentle resolution. As they reached the side of their bed, she began undressing him from his harsh, restrictive attire down to his shorts and sat him on the mattress behind him. She traced the scars on his body, each one a testament to the battles he had fought, and her fingers made their way up to his stubbled jaw, cupping his cheek tenderly.

"Bucky… you look so troubled." She noticed. "What's wrong, my love?" her voice filled with concern. She came to his side, sitting close as she spoke softly, “Tell me,” her eyes searched within his, “...please?” 

Bucky took a deep breath, his heart heavy with the burden of the truth he was about to reveal. "Y/N," he began, his voice slow, as if he was afraid, "This... this isn't our first time living through this. Our marriage, our life together, it was supposed to be different.”

Everything that had been haunting him for the past months spilled out for Y/N to consume. He spoke of the first time he stood at the altar, the way he was clumsy and rough the first time he touched her, their awkward moments, and the ups and downs that became the foundation of their budding romance.

He told her about her pregnancy, the joy he felt from it, how she glowed with happiness, and the dreams they had for their child. He recounted his request for retirement, wanting to leave his life as a weapon behind to be with his family, to protect and cherish them.

But then he spoke of the horror that shattered his world. How he found her dead with their child, both victims of the Emperor’s cruelty. He described the devastation, the unbearable pain, and the crushing sense of failure. He had lost them both, and his heart had been torn apart. "I lost you once before. You and our child," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Bucky continued, his words pouring out in a rush. He spoke of Wanda, how she had given him a chance to come back, to change things, to save her, to save them. He told her about the sacrifices, the battles fought in the shadows, and the relentless drive to protect her and their unborn child. He described the nightmares that haunted him, the fear of failing again, and the desperate hope that this time, things would be different.

Yet, as he bared his entire soul to her, Bucky kept one critical detail shrouded in silence. He did not mention the true cost of altering time, the personal price he had to pay for this chance at redemption. The burden of that price, the debt to ancient magic that had exacted a toll on him, remained untold, a hidden weight that he bore alone. At least for now.

Y/N was silent, her mind racing to comprehend the enormity of his confession. It sounded impossible, yet there was a sincerity in Bucky's voice, a pain that was all too real. She thought back to the subtle hints in his behaviour, the way he seemed to know her so intimately, as if he had known her for a lifetime. She remembered the moments when he would finish her sentences, anticipate her needs before she even voiced them, and the way he looked at her with such profound love and fear, as if he was afraid she would disappear.

Tears welled up in Bucky’s eyes as he reached for her hand, holding it tightly. “It’s true, Y/N. Every word. I’ve lived through this nightmare, and I couldn’t bear to lose you again.” However, Y/N’s silence scared him. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, terrified that she would reject his story, reject him. Bucky's tears fell freely now, landing on her skin like tiny droplets of despair. "Say something, please," he begged, his voice choking with emotion.

Y/N’s mind and heart were in turmoil, but something deep within her, something in her soul, told her to put her faith in him. Just like that, she believed him. Her heart ached at the thought of the pain he must have endured. She cupped his face in her hands, her eyes searching in his ocean blues. “I’m so sorry for leaving you so soon, love,” she said softly, not knowing why her voice broke..

Bucky’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened with relief, his tears flowing even more; raw and unfiltered. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if afraid she would vanish. “Y/N” he whispered against her hair, his voice was a sound of agony and respite. 

Y/N’s own tears fell as she held him close. She didn’t fully understand the mechanics of time or the magic that had brought him back, but she knew one thing: she loved this man with all her heart, and she would do anything to ease his pain. 

“Thank you for saving me.” she echoed, her voice soft but firm.

Their tears of sorrow began to shift into a more tender, fervent connection as their need for each other deepened. Bucky’s lips found Y/N’s in a searing, passionate kiss. Their tears mingled and cascaded down their cheeks as they lost themselves in the embrace. Each touch, each kiss, was imbued with an urgency to reaffirm their bond and erase the pain that had haunted him.

Every piece of clothes were thrown aside; discarded in their frantic desire to be closer. Bucky’s touch grew more intimate; hands moved to pin Y/N's hands above her head, pressing her wrists gently but firmly into the bed. His eyes, dark with desire and love, bore into hers.

“Let me see you, my dear. Please, let me see all of you,” Bucky whispered, his voice trembling with emotion as he removed his hands from her wrists, roaming over Y/N’s body. His touch is a mix of reverence and desperation. He explored the curve of her waist, the gentle slope of her hips, and the soft, supple skin that felt like a lifeline to him. 

He trailed his lips down Y/N’s neck, savouring the softness of her skin, leaving a trail of heated kisses. His breath warmed her as he explored her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, and lower, where his lips brushed against the delicate curve of her breasts. Each kiss was a worshipful caress, a testament to his adoration and need for her.

A simple nudge of his hips and Bucky sinks in, breathes caught in the air when he starts to move; “You feel so good, so tight around me.” His thrusts were slow, sensual yet deliciously deep. “I love you so much,” his declaration spread warmth all over heart, filling up every space possible; much like his huge, throbbing cock to her cunt. So full, so good. While he rocked his hips, Bucky’s lips trailed delicately on her cheek, “My dearest” he murmured watching the tears fall from the corner of her eyes, “My everything”. 

Y/N, feeling the intensity of his love and the raw need in his embrace, responded with equal fervour. Her hands ardently moved over his broad shoulders and down his back, feeling the contours of his muscles tense and relax under her touch. She could sense the urgency in his movements, the way he clung to her as if she were his salvation.

Bucky’s calloused fingers slipped downwards, reaching to where their bodies were most connected. He found a grounding pleasure as he swirled soft circles on her sensitive clit; rubbing it the way he knew she loved. Y/N leaned into his touch, her body responding to his every movement. Her breaths came in short, heated whimpers as Bucky’s hands continued their exploration, his fingers grazing over her sensitive skin with a mix of tenderness and hunger.

Creating a slight distance between them, Bucky leaned back and revelled in the sight of her; what a view she was.

Her hair was messy in the most beautiful way, cascading around her face like a halo. Her hands gripped the sheets behind her, knuckles white, grounding herself in the intensity of the moment. Her body arched gracefully, a perfect curve that pushed her hips toward his in a silent plea for more. His fingers; now wet with her slick, continued to rub tight circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“There she is. So pretty for me, so fucking gorgeous,” Bucky murmured lowly, his voice filled with desire and awe.

“Bucky, please,” she whispered, her voice a plea, her legs around his waist tugging him closer.

Bucky found her shy desperation was seductive yet so innocently pure. “God, how am I so fucking lucky?” Bucky’s breath shuddered as he felt the way her pussy clenched in protest of his delay; his voice heavy with emotion as he moved against her, his eyes locked onto hers. The raw need in her voice, the way her body responded to his touch, made his heart swell with unrestrained desire.

The metal of his left hand found their way to her hips, guiding her with a gentle yet insistent touch as his fleshed finger worked on her clit. Despite the hard and hasten pace of his thrusts, their movements were synchronised, each grind was a need to chase that height of ecstasy. 

The room was filled with their whispered breaths, their shared moans of pleasure, and the undeniable proof of their love. Their connection transcended the physical, reaching into the depths of their souls, reaffirming the bond that had defied time and fate. 

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Bucky whispered, his voice raw and filled with affection as he held her close, their hearts beating in perfect harmony.

“I love you, too, Bucky.” she replied, her voice trembling with the intensity of her feelings.

As they reached the peak of their high, their cries of passion were mingled with their whispered promises of devotion. Every touch was a declaration, every kiss a vow to never be separated again, and every warmth filling inside her was a possible gift of a future they looked forward to.

Afterward, they lay entwined, their breaths slowly returning to normal, the room filled with a quiet sense of contentment and amour. Compared to prior, this time, their touch was gentle, almost innocent compared to the fervent passion earlier. They held each other, caressing skin, savouring the quiet moments of closeness. Bucky felt at ease, a sense of peace washing over him that he hadn’t felt in what seemed like lifetimes.

Bucky’s perspective was filled with the sight of Y/N. He drank in every detail, from the curve of her lips to the softness of her cheeks, to the way her eyes sparkled even in the dim light. Her skin was a beautiful contrast to his own, delicate and smooth; pure and untainted. He traced his fingers lightly over her features, committing them to memory with a sense of awe and gratitude.

She yawned as fatigue creeped in, snuggling closer, tighter. Bucky brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. “You should sleep, sweetheart.” he whispered softly. Y/N smiled, her eyes already half-closed. “See you in the morning?” she murmured, her voice laced with drowsiness.

At that moment, Bucky’s vision began to blur again; worse than before. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear it, but the edges of his sight remained dark and unfocused. He felt a pang of fear but pushed it aside. The time had come, he realised. He kissed her forehead gently, revelling in the feel of her skin against his lips. “See you in the morning, my dear,” he replied, his voice steady despite the growing darkness in his vision.

He smiled down at her as she snuggled, his heart filled with joy and serenity. Bucky held onto her tightly, cherishing the moment, knowing that no matter what happened, their love had conquered time itself. He marvelled at the fact that against all odds, he had saved the woman he loved, and nothing could take that triumph away from him. In the end, even with his eyes still wide open, he let the encroaching blackness take over, surrendering to the inevitable with a heart full of love and a soul finally at peace.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: we have reached the end of the journey, i am sorry if you feel like the story is a bit rushed; i am not capable to commit more than 3 chapters, otherwise this will ended up being in a hiatus. i, however, can consider writing oneshots for this au somewhere in the future. meanwhile, leaving your comments behind would definitely make me happy!

[candycandy00]

The Experiment - A Mr. Compress x Reader Fanfic

Part of the League of Villains Halloween Horror Anthology! Featuring Mr. Compress as a Mad Scientist!

Smut. 18+. Oral sex, blood, implied gore/death/torture (“offscreen”). Mr. Compress in glasses. F! Reader. Zombies. Horror.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Eerie red light flooded the room. You squinted and held your hand over your eyes, not quite used to the emergency beacons flashing wildly as a siren screamed from overhead. It was only the second time you’d experienced such a thing. Working in the top secret laboratories on the island was certainly not boring. 

At least a dozen people in long white coats were running back and forth, scrambling to gather up weapons and shouting into communicators. “Another one got out!” someone screamed, and you shuddered. The thought of one of those things running around loose made your skin crawl. 

A woman stopped beside you. “Hey, what are you doing?! Don’t just stand there, grab a gun and help us find it!” 

You blinked at her, thinking she couldn’t be serious. I’m only an assistant. This wasn’t in the job description. I don’t even know how to use a gun. 

The woman huffed angrily and ran off. You were relieved. You glanced around the room, watching the chaotic scene. People appeared and then disappeared into the hallways, through three separate doors. Monitors along the far wall displayed every possible nook and cranny in the building as the cameras searched frantically for the missing experiment. 

One of the doors flew open yet again and a familiar voice yelled, “I found it! On the third floor!” 

Your eyes fell on the man standing just inside the room, panting as he tried to catch his breath. A rifle was in his right hand. He looked up and noticed you, then grinned at you from behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “I found it,” he repeated in your direction. 

You nodded, smiling. “Good job, Doctor.” 

“Would you like to come help me catch it?” 

Your face turned red. “You... want me to come with you?” 

The doctor looked at you, puzzled. “Sure. I’ll need all the backup I can get!” 

You lowered your eyes. “Oh. I’m sorry, Doctor, but I don’t know how to use a gun.” 

He looked surprised. “Really? We’ll have to fix that. Sit this one out then!” And with that he waved and headed back into the hall. Several more people ran after him. 

You flopped into a nearby chair and sighed. So much for being alone with him. But I guess hunting down one of those things wouldn’t really be that romantic. 

You had been Doctor Sako’s assistant for the past two months, from your first day on the job. It was love at first sight. He had stepped out of one of the experimentation rooms, splattered from head to toe in blood, and given you the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen. Like he was genuinely happy to see you. Like he’d been waiting for you. All his life. 

He was handsome, in an unconventional way. Wavy dark hair, warm brown eyes behind large glasses, a perpetually stained white lab coat worn over a button up shirt, suspenders attached to black pants. He wasn’t exactly Prince Charming, but his smile lit up any space he walked into. 

The room had gone quiet. All the scientists involved in the search had followed Doctor Sako to the third floor. You looked up at the monitors, where you saw them all standing around in the hall. The floor and walls were covered in gore. Blood, clumps of flesh, battered internal organs, all splashed across the hall as if someone had just exploded. A few minutes later Doctor Sako returned, so covered in guts that his messy hair looked completely red and you couldn’t find a single spot on him that was clean. 

He smiled at you again. “Well, that’s done.” 

You laughed nervously. “You have an exciting job.” 

“Yes, but now we have to get back to the boring work,” he said with a chuckle. 

You were happy as you stood up and followed him to his office. Your small desk was across the room from his, facing him. You spent a great deal of time filing papers and organizing files and helping him go over test results. You didn’t have clearance to go into the experimentation rooms with him, and so you never knew exactly what was going on. But you had seen some of the test subjects and always waited just outside the door for him, ready to fetch anything he might need. 

“Do you need some coffee?” you asked, walking toward the door to get some for yourself. 

“That would be lovely, thank you,” he said, eyes quickly scanning a document in his hands. 

You left the office, closing the door behind you and heading for the meager kitchen area. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, then another for the doctor. You hummed happily to yourself as you added cream and sugar to his cup. You couldn’t explain why, but you felt extremely pleased to know exactly how he liked his coffee. He liked sweet things, you had realized within a week of working for him. And so you occasionally brought chocolates to work with you and always made sure to offer him some. 

The lady scientist who had yelled at you earlier appeared in the kitchen, filling a glass of water. She looked at you with disgust. “What are you so happy about?” 

Your faint humming stopped suddenly. “Excuse me?” 

The woman frowned. “Today was a disaster. Three weeks of work just went down the drain. Millions of dollars wasted. Anyone who cares about our work here would be devastated, not humming and grinning like an idiot.” 

“That’s not true!” you found yourself saying a little too loudly. “Doctor Sako cares about his work more than anyone and he’s still smiling!” 

The woman stared at you. “The way you talk about him, the way you look at him, is highly inappropriate for a working environment. Besides, you have no idea what kind of person he is.” 

“I do know! I know he’s a sweet and friendly person. I know he’s brilliant and kind and always makes time for others!” 

“But have you seen him working? Have you been in the experimentation rooms?” 

You reluctantly shook your head. “Not yet, but he says that after I’ve been here long enough, I can.” 

The woman laughed. “You’re in for a big surprise then. Doctor Sako is a monster in those rooms, a butcher. He has absolutely no regard for human beings.” 

You hesitated for a moment, not sure how to respond. You glanced at the doctor’s sugared coffee and remembered his smile. “You’re wrong,” you finally said. “He’s a gentle person. I’m sure he has to hurt people sometimes for his work, but it’s important to him.” 

The woman chuckled again, highly amused. “Whatever you say, honey.” 

You grabbed the two cups of coffee from the counter and hurried into the hall, nearly colliding with two people before reaching the doctor’s office. You sat his coffee on his desk and he looked up at you with a smile. “Thank you, my dear.” 

You nodded and returned to your own desk, but you couldn’t focus on your work. You couldn’t stop watching him, thinking about what the woman had told you. Doctor Sako was cute and charming. He couldn’t possibly be that bad. You finally spoke up. 

“Doctor?” 

He looked at you. “Yes?” 

“What exactly do you do... in the experimentation rooms?” 

He stared at you blankly for a few moments, as if the question surprised him. “Well, we test our products on them. See how their bodies react to the different strains we’ve created.” 

“Strains?” 

“Of viruses. To use for biological weapons. And of course we’ve been trying to create reanimated corpses that will serve as soldiers in the future.” 

“The zombies?” 

The Doctor held his hands up immediately and made a shushing motion. “Don’t let the others hear you say that! They really hate that term.” 

You were embarrassed. “Oh, sorry.” 

“But yes, the zombies. We’ve been able to create twelve so far, but none of them have lasted very long and we’ve had varied results on their motor functions and cognitive abilities.” 

“I see,” you said. “So... the work you’re doing... it’s for a good cause then.” 

“Oh, absolutely! It’s the most important thing in the world for me!” 

The doctor was beaming with pride, and you decided he had earned the right to do so. He was the head scientist over the whole lab, the top paid employee of their mysterious company. He only answered to a select few people, men in fancy suits who showed up once a week to check the progress of their work, dish out money to fund more experiments, and occasionally fire someone who wasn’t doing their best. 

The doctor suddenly smiled at you. “You want to visit the experimentation rooms, don’t you?” 

You were taken off guard by his question, but nodded slowly. In truth, you were a little uneasy about seeing what went on behind the locked steel doors. But the thought of getting to know Doctor Sako better, of being able to understand his work and his goals, overcame your fear of the unknown. 

“I’ll ask Shreve tonight. He’s coming for the weekly meeting.” 

Your heart fluttered. He really wants to show me his work. He wants to share it with me. 

A clock chimed somewhere in the building and the doctor stood up. “Time to do a check-up,” he said cheerfully, grabbing a pair of latex gloves from a nearby dispenser as he left the room. You followed him into the hall and stopped just outside a large shiny door. 

“I’ll be waiting here, doctor, in case you need anything.” 

He waved in return and closed the door behind him. You stood quietly for several minutes before sliding down the wall into a sitting position on the floor. A few scientists walked by and gave you dirty looks. I don’t care. I’m Doctor Sako’s assistant, not theirs. As long as he’s pleased with me, nothing else matters. 

You’d been waiting for nearly two hours before the door swung open and the doctor peeked out. “I need some assistance!” he yelled, but his voice was nearly engulfed by another sound. 

Screaming. Someone was screaming from within the room. It was so loud and high-pitched that you couldn’t tell if the voice was male or female. As the doctor stood in the door way, you stole a glance into the room behind him. Something laid on a table, something that took you several seconds to realize was a human being. You could see an arm and two legs, but everything in between was just a big bloody pile of goo. At the top, you could almost make out a face. But it was so distorted and twisted with shock and horror that it did nothing to help you distinguish the gender. 

“What is...” 

“Listen, dear!” the doctor suddenly yelled, and your attention was snapped away from the grizzly scene inside. You realized then that in Doctor Sako’s left hand was an arm. A bloody, mangled arm. In his right hand was a saw. 

“Yes... doctor?” you managed to say, feeling a little dazed. 

“I need some buckets right away!” 

The bizarrely serious look on his face made you scramble to your feet and dash off without another word to the supply closet to grab the requested buckets. They were large and bright orange and you couldn’t carry more than two. You reached them to him and he immediately dropped the arm into the first bucket with a disgusting thud and thanked you as he shut the door again. 

He emerged another hour later, covered in a fresh coat of blood, and this time there were no sounds coming from the room. The lights were off and you couldn’t see anything before he closed the door and locked it with his personal key. He pulled off his glasses and pulled back his soaked lab coat, holding up the collar of his shirt to wipe the lenses. 

He looked at you and grinned. “Second time today,” he said with a laugh. 

You watched him uneasily, not sure what to say after having seen something so disturbing. You finally decided to just ask him about it. You took a deep breath. “Doctor, what was that?” 

He replaced his glasses. “Oh, you saw? Just another reanimated corpse. After we lost one today, I thought we’d better try to create another one quickly to replace it. You know, the meeting tonight and all.” 

“Did it work?” 

“The subject didn’t respond well to the virus. We had to terminate the experiment.” 

“I see,” you said. 

“I have to go clean up. Shreve will be here any minute.” 

You nodded and watched him disappear around a corner. You returned to his office, sitting down and laying your head upon your desk. Maybe the other scientist was right. Maybe he does do horrible things in those rooms. But it was just a zombie. It was already dead. You can’t hurt something that’s already dead. 

The terrible screams you heard earlier flooded your mind and you closed your eyes tightly, trying to force the memory out. It’s for his work. This will make our military stronger. It’ll make our country stronger. He’s doing good things. He’s a good person! 

Doctor Sako came back to his office with a fresh lab coat and most of the blood washed from his face and hands. Stains still littered his pants and clumps of stuff you didn’t care to identify still clung to stray strands of his hair. He sat down in his leather chair and began typing at his computer. You watched him intently. 

He suddenly caught your eye. “Is something wrong?” 

You hesitated for a moment, then stood up and closed the distance between your desk and his. “Doctor, I... really enjoy working with you.” 

He was staring up at you and looked a little confused. “I enjoy working with you too,” he said. 

Your heart was pounding furiously and your cheeks were beginning to burn, but you’d made up your mind. You had to tell him how you felt, before your mind became any more clouded with doubts. You swallowed hard and looked him in the eyes. “Do you have anyone that you love?” 

He looked even more confused. “I, uh, love my work.” 

“I’m in love with you.” 

His eyes widened. His pale face became pink. “Oh... I...” 

You felt like your knees would give out at any moment, but it was too late to turn back now. “I don’t expect you to return my feelings, but I wanted you to know how I feel. I don’t want you to treat me differently. I don’t want this to change our working relationship. I just...” you trailed off, taken surprise by how adorably embarrassed he looked, like a school boy. You wanted to laugh, but realized how inappropriate that would be. Had no girl ever confessed her love for him? Had he never been in a relationship? 

You felt a little more confident as a smile tried to creep onto your face. You walked around his desk and stood over him. You leaned down, inching closer to him. You were moving slowly, giving him plenty of time to stop you or pull away or push you back. But he seemed to be frozen, watching you with shock. When you were close enough to feel his breath on your face, you paused. “Could you accept my feelings, Doctor?” 

“I... uh... think you’re very pretty and... I’m flattered, really.” 

You blushed, extremely pleased to receive the compliment but now fearful that he was preparing to reject you. You were just waiting for a ‘But’. 

“But...” 

You quickly pressed your lips to his, effectively cutting him off. You couldn’t bear to let him finish, to hear his rejection. You wrapped your arms around his neck and within seconds you were in his lap. You eventually became aware of his hands on your back, pulling you closer to him and somewhat clumsily creeping beneath your lab coat. He does like me! He wouldn’t be doing this if he didn’t like me. He’d be pushing me away. 

You didn’t dare to break the kiss, even as he pulled off your lab coat and slid his off his shoulders. He was so warm and soft and his mouth tasted sweet like the candy and cakes he was always eating. This was a dream come true. This was what all your fantasies were made of. Just this moment in Doctor Sako’s arms. 

After a few moments, you slid from his lap and onto your knees in front of him, looking up at him as you unbuckled his belt. He was breathing harder as he watched you, his dark eyes wide behind his glasses. He looked flustered, but he made no attempt to stop you as you opened his pants and slid the waistband of his boxers down far enough to free his cock. You were surprised that he was already hard, and when you glanced at his face, a light blush had dusted his cheeks. 

You couldn’t help smiling. You leaned forward and licked gently at his tip, and you heard his breath hitch. Feeling emboldened by his reaction, you took him into your mouth, using your tongue to circle his length. His hands were gripping the arm rests of his chair, and his eyes never left you, seeming entranced. You moved your head back and forth, sliding your lips up and down him, using your saliva to keep him slick. 

He made quick, stilted moans that turned you on as you continued sucking his dick, determined to get him off. It didn’t take too long. He was probably even more inexperienced than you were. His entire body went rigid when he came into your mouth, a shuddering groan filling your ears. You swallowed every last drop, locking eyes with him as you licked up any remaining drops. 

You got back to your feet and he pulled you back into his lap, his hands tugging your skirt up as you wrapped your arms around him. 

A harsh knock came at the door, causing you to practically leap from Sako’s lap and retreat back to your desk. He looked nervously at you, his face red, then stood up and straightened his lab coat, making his way toward the door. He reached up and tried to smooth out his ever messy hair before turning the knob. 

Shreve, a stuffy looking business man in a black suit walked in. “Did I interrupt you, doctor?” 

The man’s eyes very pointedly shifted to your discarded lab coat on the floor. You blushed and sank lower in your chair. Doctor Sako laughed uneasily and picked it up. “Not at all, sir. I was expecting you.” 

Shreve made no attempt to participate in small talk. “Let’s step into the meeting room. I want a full report on what happened here today. I’ve heard some disappointing things about the newest subject.” 

“Of course, sir,” the doctor replied, draping your coat over his own chair and giving you a weak grin before leaving with Shreve. 

You were left alone in his office, your face still burning with a combination of embarrassment and excitement. I can’t believe it. I kissed him. He kissed me back. It was so perfect! Why did Shreve have to ruin it? 

You spent a few minutes sulking before an idea hit you. Doctor Sako had said he would ask Shreve about giving you clearance to go into the experimentation rooms. If he’d found your behavior inappropriate, he wouldn’t ask. But if he liked you, and wanted to spend more time with you, he would. 

You quietly exited the room and crept down the hall, toward the meeting room. You arrived at the door and stood beside it, trying to listen. You could hear Shreve’s raised voice but couldn’t make out what he was saying. You very carefully reached down and twisted the knob, sliding the door open just a little, enough to allow sound to escape. 

“You’re wasting our money and our time! If you can’t start producing real results, we’re going to have to cut off funds.” 

Doctor Sako’s voice sounded strained, worried. “We’re doing our best. We just don’t have enough subjects to work with. You were supposed to send us more. As of today, we have no new subjects in the entire building.” 

Shreve’s voice sounded like a roar. “Then find your own subjects! I want results this time next week, or there will be serious consequences!” 

You slid the door shut and silently walked back down the hall. You felt guilty for listening in, and felt sorry for the doctor. How could he possibly ask about getting you clearance when he was already in trouble? Things had went from amazing to depressing in the course of ten minutes. 

You stopped beside Doctor Sako’s office and leaned face-first against the door. You felt so stupid now for saying such silly things to him, for putting on such a shameful display. He had enough on his mind. How could you face him now? 

You started to turn around when you heard a loud, sudden cracking sound, almost like a bat hitting a baseball. White light flooded your vision and you felt the sensation of falling backward. All sound then melted away, and you lifted your eyes to see the ceiling above you. Through the haze of light, you thought you caught a glimpse of Doctor Sako’s face. And then, nothing. 

When you opened your eyes again, the first thing you noticed was that you hurt. Everywhere. It was as if someone had simply poured a bucket of pain over your entire body. Your eyes seemed blurry and you strained to see in front of you as objects started to become clear. You could see a plain white wall at first, and slowly the rest of the room came into view. A tiny video camera sat in the far corner of the ceiling, pointing at you. To the left, you could see a large metal door. And to your right... 

“Good morning, my dear!”

You turned to the voice and blinked. Doctor Sako smiled at you, the same smile he had given you the day you met, the smile that told you he had been waiting for you all along. The smile you fell in love with. 

“What happened?” you asked, and you realized your voice was tiny and weak. Your whole body was aching severely and you couldn’t move anything. It took you a while to realize that your arms and legs were tied down with leather straps, and you were completely naked. 

You jerked wildly, your first instinct to cover yourself, then cried out when sharp stabbing pain shot through your arms. The dull aches became unbearable stings. “Doctor, what’s going on?! What’s wrong with me?!” 

He reached out a latex glove-covered hand and patted your head. “Calm down. It’s alright. Your body adjusted to the virus wonderfully. The first part of the experiment has been a great success.” 

You heard the words but your brain couldn’t seem to process them. “Experiment?” 

“I explained it to you before, didn’t I? Creating reanimated corpses. Wait, what was the term you used? Zombie? Yes, you’re a zombie now.” 

You stared at him in horror, not able to believe what he was saying. All the more terrible was that he was still smiling. “No... please... you can’t do this to me!” you cried, “I’m your assistant! You’re a good person, you wouldn’t do this!” 

The smile faded slightly. “I thought you understood. This is a very important experiment. In fact, today we’re going to start the second phase.” 

“Second phase?” 

The smile returned. “You’re the most successful subject we’ve encountered so far. Judging by your reactions since waking up, you’ve retained all your motor functions and have incredible cognitive abilities. You can still think, talk, and feel. You’re a perfect specimen to study.” 

You tried to shake your head, but your neck was so stiff that the pain was too great. Tears fell down your face. “I don’t understand... I can’t be dead! I’m not dead!” 

Doctor Sako seemingly ignored you. “The next phase of the experiment is to find out just how much damage a subject can take before it finally dies a second time. Oh but don’t worry, you’re quite durable now. I think you’ll last quite a while!”

Your vision was becoming blurry again from your tears. You tried to control your sobs, as each time your body shook you were racked with excruciating pain. “Please... please don’t do this.. I love you. I thought... I thought you...” 

He patted your head again. “I told you, I love my work. Now you’re my work.” 

You gaped at him, still not able to get over the shock of what he was saying. He even turned a little pink, as if he were confessing his love for you. “Oh God... she was right... the woman in the kitchen...” 

But your voice broke off when you spotted the large saw in the doctor’s right hand. He held up his left hand and grinned. “Look, I remembered the buckets this time!” 

And anyone unfortunate enough to wander by the experimentation room as Doctor Sako entered or left would find their ears overwhelmed by the sound of screaming. And some would wonder what lurked beyond the door, perhaps even catch glimpses of a bloody mess that vaguely resembled a once beautiful young woman. But the doctor would smile and lock the door, cheerfully returning to his office. 

End

[lonesomedreamer]

Liveblog: “All Those Who Wander”

In which Star Trek does Alien.

This episode should absolutely have come with warnings for flashing lights and superfluous gore/body horror.

The “end” of Uhura’s tenure on the Enterprise would be more meaningful in a longer season. I know it’s not realistic to hope for 22-26 episode seasons anymore, but even 13 would be better for an episodic, character-driven adventure show than just 10.

This looks bad. In fact, her hair has been getting worse all season. Rebecca Romjin is a beautiful woman, but the hair and makeup people have been doing her no favors (something I’d argue that she has in common with her predecessor in the role, Majel Barret).

“We are bonded now and forever by the family that is Starfleet.” Who WROTE this drivel? I’d love to serve in Starfleet! I love its ideals! But even in TOS, it wasn’t infallible and perfect and One Big Happy Family.

Is “Lieutenant” really the next rank immediately above “ensign”? Genuine question.

Absurdly tiny coffee cups!

I still want to know why they’re always doing dishes on this ship that has technology well beyond that shown on TOS AND how/why the captain has time to do said dishes.

La’an’s actually allowed to show some personality!

As if station wagons would still be a common point of reference in the 23rd century…

“Do NOT make me turn this car around.” Again...these are not references that make sense in the show’s context/setting. They’re in the script solely to cater to a certain portion of the audience. Also, I still don’t find Pike’s “Captain Dad” schtick endearing, sorry.

Sensors don’t reach the planets surface, yet they land the shuttlecrafts conveniently close to the ship they’re rescuing.

“You gotta buy him a drink.” How long has Spock been in Starfleet now…at least five years? They’re constantly explaining Starfleet culture/traditions to him like he’s a cadet. I know he’s a Vulcan, and I know that it’s for the audience’s benefit, but there must be some other character (Uhura being the obvious choice) who can fill that role…

And also: who keeps buying people drinks? Is this just a turn-of-phrase, or what? They’re certainly not paying for anything on the Enterprise, and we never saw them actually pay for anything on TOS even during shore leave.

Wait—they took the CMO and Chapel on this mission? What if people need emergency medical attention back on the ship???

The Peregrine is built with some of the same parts as the Constitution-class ships, but it’s not the same design—so why does it look like a carbon copy of the Enterprise, and why does it have such a small crew compliment in comparison?

This is obviously going to be another Gorn episode, and I already know I’m still going to hate it.

I’ve since read that this was prosthetic makeup, but it looks like bad CGI to me.

They’re really going to make Spock have an awkward expository conversation about Surak and logic with Christine in the middle of a crisis/rescue mission in the penultimate episode of the season?

M’Benga calling the little girl “my daughter” and then catching himself was a nice touch. He should be haunted by his decision.

I love that Christine’s hair is still perfect after everything. Peak TV show energy.

All of this—gore and jump scares and a vicious, non-verbal alien species as the overpowered Big Bad—is so anti-Trek and I hate it!!! :)

As usual, the level of technology here strains credulity (and far outstrips anything on TOS).

Kirk’s big brother is just a peach… McCoy and Spock’s dynamic only worked because Spock gave as good as he got and because the audience knew that Spock considered McCoy a close friend/brother. Watching Sam Kirk be an intolerant ass is just uncomfortable.

COMICAL. Seriously, this is a joke.

So the Gorn are superior (in evolutionary terms) sentient beings…and also mindless, bloodthirsty lizard creatures? Sure.

Gorn-o-vision! This entire episode is impossible to take seriously.

Alluding to Spock’s sacrifice in Wrath of Khan and throwing a “long live and prosper” in does not make this any more like proper Trek. Speaking of WOK, Hemmer’s choice would be so much more meaningful if it were done in a similar setting (since he is, after all, the Chief Engineer…) instead of this throw-away “noble” sacrifice of a death.

Hemmer’s death is also a reminder of how short 10-episode seasons really are, and how little development his character was really given. As badly as her character was handled, even Tasha Yar had more time to grow than Hemmer before she was killed.

“This sucks. I hate funerals.” Ortegas and her quippy remarks being charming and funny and essential to the episode as always…oh, wait.

HUGS!

I actually think it’s really sweet/meaningful for Christine to tell Spock that his emotions “make you human.” I’ve seen some bad-faith interpretations of this scene assuming she’s trying to “push him to be more human,” but I read it as her encouraging him not to deny his inherent humanity, which he’s grown up thinking of as shameful. His humanity isn’t inferior to his Vulcan nature, and he needs to accept it and embrace it if he wants to find peace.

As the child of an alcoholic, I genuinely think Pike has an alcohol problem. He’s been shown drinking a lot in this show.

The Good: La’an gets to show some personality (but only early on)—moral support Spockstine hugs

The Bad: Everything else, lol—Pike makes terrible tactical decisions, repeatedly, beginning with bringing cadets on the rescue mission without knowing any details about the circumstances; the most glaring was letting La’an, who’s barely coping with her own Gorn-related PTSD well enough to function, basically take charge after they discover that they’re dealing with the Gorn—the way this series had handled the Gorn is laughably bad and not at all in the spirit of Trek; they’re treated as monsters rather than sentient enemies who can potentially be reasoned/negotiated with (i.e., the Romulans)—Hemmer’s death was pointless and a waste—they continue to do absolutely nothing with Number One as a character; why is she even on the show at this point?

Overall, this was a poorly-lit and very poorly-written episode full of jump scares, shaky-cam, flashing lights, and needless gore/death. It felt like the antithesis of everything Trek is supposed to be. Here’s hoping the finale is better.

[educatedsimps]

Hello I just read the kuroo physiotherapist AU and I’m smiling so hard…it was so cute. I really love your writing. Could I request a bit of angst tho? I just watched the voice (the kdrama) and the the beginning the ml (who’s a detective) turns up to a scene where he realises the deceased is his wife, asks her to come back and home and ya know, the tears screams and crying.. Could I request this with uhh, um, multiple haikyuu (detective) boys?

request - detectiveHQ!AU

main masterlist | requests / others masterlist

characters: Atsumu, Osamu, Iwaizumi, Oikawa, Yaku (yes our favs)

genre: ANGST

warnings: death, slight gore, reader is their wife ig

total wc:

a/n: hey there, anon!! glad you liked that hospital AU fic :D thank you for your request - IT’S TIME FOR SOME ANGST >:) I've never watched that drama before bUT I hope that this was what you meant :) tbh this request was pretty challenging for us, but regardless, thank you for sending it in! enjoy <3 -lyssa

PS: sorry it took us so long to post this, we’ve been pretty busy recently :(

content under the cut!

— MIYA ATSUMU

After receiving the call from his chief investigator, Atsumu raced to the crime scene, his heart beating uncontrollably. His mind was scattered, desperately trying to convince himself this wasn’t real, that they identified the wrong woman. He roughly wiped his tears away, refusing to let fear overtake him.

Detectives aren’t supposed to get emotional when it comes to cracking cases, he chided himself.

He had been trying to track down this serial killer for a heck long time now, but it seems he was too late. The killer had struck.

Ducking beneath the barricade tape, Atsumu ran towards the blue tent covering the body. Breathing heavily, his throat tightened with every step he took. Fellow investigators shouting at him to stop, some coming towards him to hold him back, but they were no use.

Atsumu only saw the cold, still face of the woman who was the light of his life, laying on the hard ground. A pool of blood around her abdomen and chest, her once luscious hair now matte and sprawled on the ground beneath her head. A loud sob escaped his trembling lips. Falling to his knees, he reached for her face and held it in his hands. The face he had woken up to every morning for the past eight years of his life. The face that once held the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

He didn’t care for the blood soaking through his shirt and staining his hands as he held her body close to his. He didn’t care for the cold raindrops piercing into his skin like knives. He didn’t care for the tears that flowed down his cheeks and onto his wife’s body.

Rocking back and forth, he cried desperately, “Wake up… Wake up… Don’t leave me, babe, you can’t leave me, please… I should never have left you alone.. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s all my fault… P-please, come back, I love you…”

He had failed. He couldn’t protect the love of his life, the one who taught him what love felt like, the only one he had ever wanted to spend forever with. What use is a detective who can’t even protect his loved ones?

— MIYA OSAMU

Osamu's heart was pounding.

He wasn’t sure if it was because of the mile-long sprint from his car to the crime scene or the face of his dead wife being held gently in his hands. His hands, shirt and pants were dyed scarlet, but he only saw the memories and dreams he had of his life with her.

He remembered their high school days, when they’d volunteered at the police department with Atsumu during the holidays, helping to patrol their neighbourhood and sometimes cordon off areas where a crime had taken place. Both of you had taken an interest in detective work during your teenage years and have worked together on so many cases since then. Osamu still remembered the suicide case that the two of you were assigned to right after your marriage. He had wanted to continue discussions about it even at home, but you had firmly denied his request, in a bid to segregate between work and family life.

Now he just wanted you to return to him. His resolve to believe that the officers had identified the wrong woman crumbled faster the longer he held onto you.

His lips wobbled as he tried to contain his emotions. A single tear escaped, but it only unleashed a wave of tears streaming down his face. Holding your lifeless body in his hands, Osamu no longer felt the warmth he had once felt around you.

He no longer felt your heart beating for him and him only. Your delicate face remained void of expression.

Osamu felt... cold and empty.

His colleagues pulled him away in a matter of minutes. He struggled, trying to resist the firm grip around his arms.

“No… no, let me hold her. Please,” He begged. His eyes were swollen and red, breathing ragged. He sounded like a broken man.

Osamu felt his heart ripping into a thousand pieces, pounding painfully in his chest as he watched the officers place a blue tent over your body.

He crumbled to the ground, his head in his hands, crying as he mourned the loss of you, his precious wife.

— OIKAWA TŌRU

His eyebrows were furrowed deeply together that the crease looked permanent. His chest was heaving, choked sobs and laboured breaths were the only sounds heard in the small room. His fellow investigators respectfully left the room to let him grieve privately.

Oikawa let out a lifeless chuckle. With his tears flowing endlessly down his cheeks, he uttered, "Princess... stop acting already... this was a really good prank of yours, it almost seems real. You got me real good... I know that you're still here with me, please wake up... please. I know you're still there..."

His weariness was palpable, the entire atmosphere gloomy.

He cradled your face gently, his fingers tracing your now pasty white complexion. He remembered all the happy moments with you, from high school to university to being a newly married couple in your twenties.

Why were you taken away from him so soon?

It seemed that every promise you'd both made to each other was but a dream. A dream that was now shattered by the harsh reality of your circumstance.

Oikawa's lips trembled, and he was soon overcome with pain, the agony prevalent in his sobs, his muttering of partially delusional words.

You were gone, and he was now a man, void of everything he had ever known.

— IWAIZUMI HAJIME

It had been four months since that day. The day he finally caught the psychotic serial killer.

The same day his wife was murdered.

Iwaizumi remembered it as clear as ever. The slashes on her throat, and the multiple stab wounds that littered her abdomen and lower body still haunted him in his sleep. The cold, lifeless face of his beautiful wife, now mere ashes in an urn.

Iwaizumi had been deteriorating ever since. The guilt, hanging heavily on him every second of every day, ate at him slowly. It chewed up his insides, clawing it’s way up from his heart to his head, rearing its ugly head wherever he went. He saw her everywhere. His nightmares and daydreams all revolved around her and that fateful day.

Iwaizumi wasn’t exactly a religious man, but every night, he prayed. He prayed to any god listening to him from above, that heaven would take him too, so that he could be reunited with his beloved. He couldn’t take it anymore, not in this hellish world with no light to guide him, no love to heal him.

Angry cries and anguished shouts became a normality to his neighbours. The pain had never once left him, never once relinquished its deathly hold on his heart. The guilt, the shame, the anger - it was an endless stream. Nobody could help him. Not his parents, not his friends, not even Oikawa. His voice had become scratchy and hoarse after months of yelling at nothing. His throat was constantly burning, but Iwaizumi had never once felt it.

At least she never got pregnant, he thought bitterly, his sullen cheeks as tear-stained as always. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if he had let both his wife and his baby die such horrible deaths.

He didn’t care for the slump he was in, neither did he care for what had been happening around him since. He couldn’t even think about revenge. He had lost his wife. The love of his life, his forever, his universe. The hole in his heart only grew with each passing day, with each memory of her and each reminder that she wasn’t coming back.

— YAKU MORISUKE

“Yaku-san, the deceased… Is believed to be your wife. Please make your way to the crime scene now.”

The second he heard his wife mentioned by his colleague over the phone, his heart seemed to stop beating.

Yaku managed to sputter out an “okay, i’m coming right now,” before hastily grabbing his things and running over to the apartment building a few blocks away.

His head was spinning the whole way there. The only thing on his mind was you. He chanted your name in his head like a mantra, praying that they had misidentified the body, that he’d reach the crime scene only to confirm that the deceased was, in fact, not his wife.

To say that he was nervous was an understatement. By the time he burst through the apartment doors, hastily flashing his ID card to the officers guarding the perimeters, his entire frame was shaking. Unshed tears stung his eyes and his heart was pulsating rapidly.

His stomach dropped at the familiar sight of his wife, now dead on the floor of her friend’s apartment. His throat threatened to cut off his air supply upon seeing the strangulation marks around his wife’s neck.

He knelt beside her unmoving frame, strained whispers of “no, it- it can’t be… come on, it’s not y/n… baby, wake up, please…” leaving his lips. He slowly reached out to grasp your hand in his, now shaking with unparalleled fear and grief. Your eyes remained closed, your lips now pale.

He tore his eyes from you to look up at his teammates, who stood a few feet away. Kuroo’s eyes were red and puffy, yet still rimmed with fresh tears. You had known Kuroo first, before he introduced you to Yaku, but Kuroo couldn’t imagine what it felt like to lose his wife. (wow-) Kenma looked like he had something to say, but eventually decided to keep quiet, realising that no amount of words could comfort Yaku at that moment. Yamamoto hung his head, not offering much more than a look of sorrow and pity.

Yaku turned back to his wife’s body, suddenly hit with a round of flashbacks from when he had first met you, to your first date, his proposal, your wedding day, and everything between and after that.

He knew the physical pain he felt in his heart would be temporary compared to the emotional one.

He wanted to hurl, to yell, to scream and curse. y/n wouldn’t want that, he thought bitterly, the mere thought of you plunging yet another (metaphorical) knife into his already shattered heart.

Everything after that seemed to go by in seconds. He didn’t process when or how they brought the body out, when he went home, when he met your family and broke the news to them.

He felt dead. Dead, cold and lifeless. For what was his life without you?

a/n: hi again! didn’t manage to write a part for daichi, but we wrote iwa’s. hope that’s okay :”) and let us know what you think! (comment or send an ask <3) thank you for readinggg :>

© educatedsimps 2021. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarize any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down (likes and reblogs are appreciated)

[the-wayward-arc]

Commission done for a friend. (WARNING! GORE AND TORTURE ARE MENTIONED AND INVOLVED)

Their plan had failed. Kidnap the Arc heir and get the ransom. Easy. Of course, the child put up a fight and force had to be used. Necessary. But then they came, Tyrian and a man known simply as the Hound. Both of them were her mistress's top men in the Grimm syndicate. Why did they attack them? Why were her and her three other associates tied up in the middle of the clearing? Cinder wanted answers and she needed them now!

"I just wanna go home." She looked to the five year old Arc heir, he was clinging to the Hound for dear life, his eyes closed tightly as tears ran down his face.

"Hey! What's going on here!? Why'd you ruin our job?!" The fourth member of Cinder's team yelled out, Bron. A swift kick to the jaw from Tyrian was his only answer. Bron coughed, spitting a tooth as he glared at the uncomfortably quiet assassin. Cinder knew Tyrian, he was never this quiet! He always had something to say! Before she could ponder more, lights could be seen approaching from the tree line along with the sounds of Engines.

An armored limousine flanked by four hummers, two on each side drove up, their lights nearly blinding. Their headlights were turned off but the floodlights on top of each hummer was turned on. They all recognized the vehicles, they were all Grimm syndicate vehicles. Though the limousine in the center, they all knew who that was. Cinder had a small smile on her face. The occupants of the Hummers exited their vehicles, they all looked ready to fight a war. Decked out in full military apparel from their military rifles to the various tactical gear, the only striking things separating them from any actual military branch was their black and red uniform color and their bone white metallic masks. Apathy squad. That was the name of this particular group of Grimm syndicate soldiers. Only used for the extreme of issues and commanded only by on-

Two people exited the driver and passenger sides of the limo. Hazel and his older sister Gretchen Rainart, both dressed in suits. All four watched Gretchen walk to the end of the Limo, opening as someone stepped out, someone they all recognized; Salem, the head of the Grimm Syndicate. She was strikingly beautiful given her age, platinum pale blonde hair kept in half undone bun style. Fair skin with vein like tattoos spreading all over them, a tradition she once stated was part of her family for those that became the heads. Her light blue eyes fixated on the bound for as she walked over to them gracefully. Her heels kicking rocks as she walked over.

"Ha! You idiots are in for it now! Once the boss lady hears you messed up our job, there will hell to p-"

"Aunty Salem!" Bron stopped talking, all four of them froze as they saw the hound put the young boy down as he ran with a limp to Salem. She brought herself down to one knee, arms opened as a loving smile that none had ever seen before was on her face. The boy hugged her tightly as she did the same, her arms wrapping around him as she kissed his forehead.

"Shhhhh, it's okay my sweet knight. I'm here. Your aunty is here." She said with a soothing motherly voice, soothing the crying boy as she sent a death glare at all four of the bound men.

"I *hic* scared Aunty! They said they would *hic* kill me. That they would come after everyone." He cried as he buried his face into her chest, crying.

"Мой маленький рыцарь(my little knight), I'm here now. You were so brave, I'm proud of you for being brave. Aunty is gonna make the bad people go away okay?" She said, a chill of pure fear running down all their spines.

"M-Mistre-" cinder tried to rise, to tell her Mistress this was a misunderstanding! Only for the butt of a rifle to hit her back down. She looked to see an Apathy soldier behind her, they had surrounded them. All their rifles pointed at them. She looked at the crying boy, then to Salem. This boy. The sole male of the Arc family was Salem's nephew. He was her family...a family they all just threatened.

"Stay down." The soldier stated.

"Jaune, why are you limping and who gave you that black eye?" She asked him, Bron and Mercury stiffened as Jaune pointed at them.

"The man with the silver hair hit my legs hard because I tried to run away. He said if I did it again, he was gonna make sure I could never walk again." He told her. Mercury looked at Salem, her glare terrifying him. Then he glared at Cinder, the one who decided to go against Salem's orders.

He rose up, "DAMN YOU CIND-" the butt of rifle slamming against his jaw sent him to the ground, two soldiers picking him up and putting back onto his knees.

"Silence! You will speak only if Salem allows it!"

"who gave you that black eye?" She asked him, ignoring the commotion as she moved locks of Jaune's hair to get a better view of his eye. Her anger rising as she could see the outlines of a fist among the swelling. He pointed at Bron.

"He did." Tears started forming and it broke Salem's heart to see her nepphew had gone through so much pain, the redness on his wrist did not go unnoticed. "H-he said h-he would kill me and our f-family. Saying h-he would do bad s-stuff to m-momma and my sisters."

Bron's mouth was dry. He couldnt speak to defend himself. What the boy said was true. Of course he was just stating it to keep the kid in line but he didnt know that. Not would Salem care if he didn't mean it. Salem looked at him, there was death promised behind that stare.

"You arm, why is it like that?" It was Cinder's turn to stiffen more than she already did. She kidnapped and beaten Salem's nephew. Threatened his family with death or well Salem's family.

"T-to keep me in the room. The metal hurt when I tried to get out of it. She gave me a knife and said I could leave if I just cut off my hand." Cinder didn't dare look up. She knew they had screwed up immensely. There was no mercy. No way to talk themselves out of it. There was only punishment.

"Gretchen," the older woman stepped forward, "take Jaune into the Limo, give him water and some snacks. Hes had quite an ordeal."

"Yes ma'am." The giant of a woman extend her arms out as the boy hugged Salem tighter. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, whispering in his ear as he nodded. He allowed Gretchen to carry him as she began to walk away. Salem slowly walking towards the four.

"Wait!" Jaune cried, causing Salem to immediately turn her head with concern. Gretchen walked towards Salem. "Aunty, the girl with the green hair...she was nice to me. She gave me food and played a game with me." Salem looked at Emerald, the girl not wanting to look back.

"Is that so."

"Yeah! She was nice to me, when the man over there punched me, she wiped away my tears and tried to make the pain go away." Emerald smiled a bit, internally thanking the boy for remembering. Cinder however was seething with anger. She didnt know Emerald was doing this!

"I see, go rest now мой маленький детеныш(my little cub), I'll be there shortly." Salem turned away, waiting for the door to the Limo to slam shut. Once it did, she looked at Cinder.

"Cinder," there venom and anger in her voice, despit her calmness. Gone was that motherly tone. "What were your orders hmm?"

"Mistress, please just all-" a hard slapped shut her mouth. She looked at Salem, seeing her hand raised with a glare. "What. Were. Your. Orders?"

"T-to S-stand by and wait for your orders." She answered, recovering from the slap.

"What did you do instead?"

"We acted on our own."

"And?"

Cinder clenched her teeth. "We kidnapped the Arc heir and held him for ransom..."

Salem look towards Bron as she walked over to him. Two soldiers bring the bound man to his feet.

"let me see your hands." She commanded, holding her own hand.

"Ma'am, T-this was all Cinder's idea! If we had know-" a fist to the gut by one of the soldiers silenced him. Salem still waiting for him to show her his hands. The two guards did for him, Salem examining his right knuckle and seeing it was somewhat red. Her anger rose more, knowing what he had done to Jaune.

"This the fist you used? Hazel." The large man immediately walked over, clasping Bron's fist into his own before crushing with all his strength, a sickening crunch was herd as Bron screamed in pain, his fingers all broke with a few bones poking out. "His punishment isnt over yet, stand him up." The soldiers immediately raised the man up, cutting his bound hands as he went grasp the broken one.

The others looked at Salem as she walked in front of them, then hearing the snarling and growling. All their eyes widened when they saw three large wolf like creatures. Beowolves, The result of the Grimm syndicate cross breeding Russian bear dogs with Wolves, to create vicious attack dogs to be sold. The dogs were large, with jet black fur and vicious fangs as they snarled. They charged at the 3 bound people only to be stopped by their chain leashes.

"Каблук!" The dogs immediately sat down, looking at the one who ordered, Salem. She looked at Bron who looked back fearfully.

"I have done everything in my power to ensure my family is never involved in the other side of our business. From bribing officials, forcing others to look the other way, to even assassinations against anyone that looked at my family the wrong way. Then you four," she looked at them all, seeing their fear. "Decide to act on your own, kidnap my sweet nephew and make him endure pain that I worked extremely hard to ensure he would never experience!" She shouted, making them all flinch. "Bron, you threatened to kill him. You threatened to kill MY family. To do unsavory things to my not only niece but my great nieces as well." She walked forward, the man trying to back away only to be stopped by Hazel.

"Ma'am! Please!" He begged. "It was Cinder's idea! Please you have to believe me!" He cried, tears running down his face but it didn't faze Salem. She snarled at him.

"Run."

"W-wah?" He asked through sobs.

"Run. You have 3 seconds." She said, turning around. "3..." the beowolves stood up and bron knew what was going to happen. He stepped back, breaking into a sprint towards the treeline. "2..." he ran, as fast as he could. Praying to any god that would listen to save him. "1." Salem turned around, "Убийство.(Kill)" The beowolves immediately broke into a run, free of their chains as they chased after their prey.

Bron ran, he could hear the barking from the canines. He ran, despite his lungs burning. He had to keep going! He had to survive! He wasnt going to die here! He- a Beowolf lunged onto his back, pushing to the ground, before he could react they were on him. Biting into his flesh, ripping chunks off as he tried to fight back. One grabbing a hold of his broken hand and violently tugging at it, he screaming as one bit into his exposed stomach, a chunk being ripped off due to the powerful jaws.

Salem looked at the surviving three as they listened to their former teammate being ripped apart. His screamings echoing throughout the forest. Screams for help. To make the pain stop. Forgiveness. There was no forgiveness. No mercy. They had brought the wrath of the devil himself onto themselves. Mercury could clearly hear the flesh being torn off as the screams died down before silence.

"Возвращение!" A soldier yelled. Within a few minutes, the canines came running out, all three recoiled as they saw each one of them was covered in blood. In their jaws, each held a piece of Bron. One held his mauled tattooed arm, bits of flesh hanging loosely off it. The other held what looked like intestines in its mouth but the other was the worst. A piece of Bron's face was held firmly in its jaws, his lone eye hanging out of the half torn socket. Emerald couldn't hold it in and vomited. Cinder tried her best to stay composed despite the brutality she had just heard and seeing its aftermath. Mercury was shaking, the assassins always the one doing the killing. Now he was on the other end.

"Emerald. The kindness you showed my nephew will not go unnoticed, your punishment will not be as severe. But you will still be punished, just not now. Others are ahead of you." Salem stated as she walked past Emerald. Silently thanking Jaune.

"Mercury." She looked at the young assassin as he looked away.

"Look at me." He still looked away. Immediately a soldier grabbed his head and forced him to look at Salem. He could've sworn her blue eyes were gone, replaced by a pair of glowing blood red ones. He blinked and her eyes were normal.

"You beat Nephew's legs. To ensure he couldnt run far. You threatened to make sure he couldn't walk again if he tried to run again. Am I correct?"

Mercury could only nod. He dare not lie.

"You will not die today. No, I still have need of you. But you will be punished and it will be the way you threatened my sweet boy." Mercury's eyes went wide as the soldiers grabbed him, throwing to the ground and started to tie his legs above the knee caps, a piece of wood placed between his legs, also above the knee caps as it painfully forced his legs to spread apart despite being bound. The soldiers held him down.

"Make him experience the pain he brought upon my nephew." She ordered, before Mercury could say anything, something was shoved in his mouth.

"You may wanna bite down my dear Mercury, or else you'll bite off your tongue." She told him as a large soldier walked foward, a sledgehammer in hand. Mercury eyes widened as the soldier raised the sledgehammer high and immediately brought it down to the side of Mercury's right leg. Forcing the limb to bend into the wood. He screamed into the leather as the hammer came down again onto his right leg, another swing and another followed until his right leg was a right angle. His bones sticking out.

Emerald shut her eyes as the soldier repeated the same action onto the other leg. Salem unfazed by any of it as she looked at Cinder. Each sickening hit of flesh tearing and bone breaking made her flinch. Eventually it stopped and she looked at the gnarled form that was Mercury, he had passed long ago from the pain.

"Treat his wounds. Make sure he lives." The soldiers bowed before taking the broken assassin away. The beowolves were still gnawing their prizes.

"Take Emerald away, put her in one of the vehicles."

"Yes ma'am." One soldier stated as he picked the thief by the arm and forced her away. She dared not look at Salem or Cinder. Cinder glared at her as she was led away.

"Cinder. You have no one to blame but yourself." Salem snarled as Cinder looked at her. She was immediately brought to her feet to look at her boss.

"Ma'am! Please, I acted on how you taught me! To take the chance when it presented itself!" Cinder told her, hoping she can get out of this.

Tyrian walked forward, holding a long box in front of him with both hands. Salem turned around, opening the box's latched lid carefully to reveal a sword Nestle in soft fabric.

"Crocea Mors. This sword has been in my family since the time of the Roman Empire. During the reign of Julius Caesar. It was his sword, then it was melted down by one his descendants and reforged into the sword you see now. Carried by our ancestor Joan of Arc before her death." She waved the sword a bit, holding it up high as she inspected it. "Each Arc since then has held onto the sword, swearing upon it to protect our family no matter what. To honor our promises we make. To ensure any foe who stands before us falls. It will be Jaune's soon. When he comes of age, it will be his." She looked at Cinder. "You harmed my family Cinder. I had such high Hope's for you as well, but you still have some uses to me, so I won't kill you."

That didnt make Cinder feel better. "Raise your right arm out Cinder." She ordered, at first Cinder didn't. Salem looked at Hazel as the man stepped forward and forced her to. Cinder tried to fight back, but to no avail due to the man's strength.

"Mistress! Please! It won't happen again! I promise!" She pleaded, Salem handed the sword to the hound, as he raised the blade above Cinder's arm, right above elbow.

"Oh my sweet Cinder. I know. But what was it you said to my nephew?" The Hound raised the blade higher. "The only way to get out was to cut off your hand?" The blade came down In one swift motion. Severing Cinder's arm. Cinder fell to her knees, shocked. She looked at her severed limp limb as it was thrown towards the canines as they began to rip it apart. Then down to her stump, blood pouring out. The shakily looked at Salem, who simply cleaned the blood off the blade before carefully placing it back into secured holder. She began to walk away, as the pain finally registered to Cinder. She screamed and flayed on the ground as she tried to stop the bleeding.

"Go, make sure she lives. She still has uses to me." She told the soldiers. The canines were put back into their cages as Hazel opened the door for Salem. She saw Jaune was fast asleep, hugging into Gretchen, Salem extend her arms out, wanting to hold the small child. She cradled him as snuggled into her, a sweet smile on her face as she alerted her niece that he was Safe and the proper authorities were dealing with the people involved. She slowly ran her fingers over his swollen eye, then looking at his wounded wrist. "The bad people are gone now, I'll always protect you my sweet knight." She kissed his forehead as they drove away, the sound Cinder screaming could faintly be heard.

[sophi-s]

After three days. Three freaking days.

It is finished.

A kiss to die for

By: sophi-s (me)

Words: 4,531

Franchise: Darksiders video games

Characters: Fallen!Astarte, Abaddon

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, blood and gore, near death experience, angst, necromancy, I changed the storyline just a tiny bit for the purposes of this, Abaddon gets his ass handed to him by his ex :P.

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

Eden. The first gift from the Creator himself to the Humanity. A home for the First Ones. Once, an indescribably beautiful place full of grand trees and fresh, soft grass, flowing with cool, crystal clear waters. Colorful fruits growing in the trees, a delight to eye and tongue. Within, no danger could reach Humanity's ancestors. Truly a paradise the first humans rightfully called it. But now, after a great war that took place here, seemingly not that long ago, the great garden was left scarred and burning. Made into a tomb for those who sought to claim it. Bodies of Nephilim were left to burn and decay, forgotten and abandoned.

However, something has changed. A dark shadow passed over the sacred graveyard, leaving only madness and corruption in its wake. Those who perished picked themselves up from the ground and lashed out at Eden's guardians. Surprised and unable to respond with a coordinated defensive, the Faneguard had to call for retreat after their leader, Malahidael fell to the blades and arrows of the living dead. Amongst the scattered angels was the general of Heaven's Legions. Trying his best to keep his brethren focused and plan a tactical escape.

At least that's what he was trying before. Before he saw the cause of this nightmare. Now, outstretched on the ground in the dust, he forced himself up onto his elbow as he crawled towards his discarded blade, clutching at his chest that felt as though it had been caved in after a charging monstrosity trampled him in full speed.

How could this happen?

Fighting with his chaotic thoughts, he finally got a hold of the hilt but when he turned around, it was already too late. A large paw armed with razor-sharp claws landed on him, pinning him down and successfully immobilizing his lower half. And then his own blue eyes stared up into a pair of white ones, the same eyes that doomed him from the moment he met their gaze for the first time. The eyes that occupied his thoughts when he was awake and his dreams while he slept. Eyes of Astarte.

But what stood above him… this thing, this monster was Astarte no longer. From the waist up, the woman was stunningly beautiful as she always was, with her pale white eyes and long flowing, platinum blonde hair. But her legs have been replaced by a body of a feline beast with wings coated in blackness of corruption, feathers shimmering with red glyphs. A wicked smile was twisting her petal like lips and wherever her clawed paws fell, the dead bodies shivered and rose, called back into the accursed unlife. Utter insanity shone in her eyes.. Keeping his stone façade was no longer possible as inwardly he was falling apart. Astarte. The same Astarte who would kill and die for him, the same who he trusted more than anyone. The same Astarte he dared to love. Her smirk grew wider as she chuckled.

"Who do we have here? The great general of Heaven's Legions Abaddon himself!"

The unfamiliar taunting tone of her voice sent a shiver down his spine, as did the way she bared her teeth in a disturbing grin. Giving the large paw a tug to try and wriggle free, quickly realising it's pointless as the damned thing didn't even budge, Abaddon took a struggling breath, pretty sure his sternum was damaged if not broken.

"Astarte…"

His voice came out as a broken, pleading whisper. He still couldn't… or maybe he didn't want to… cope with what he was seeing clearly like on the palm of his hand. Astarte, his most formidable soldier, the strongest of them all, and the only woman in the Universe he felt something special for… Fallen into the vice-like grip of Lucifer's corrupting influence. Gone was the gentle smile that crawled its way up onto her face whenever she spotted him. Abaddon swallowed thickly when he noticed the spear in her hand poised to strike and carve his broken heart out from his chest. Astarte would never harm him…

"I was wondering when you'd show up."

She scoffed and used her other paw to press his right arm to the ground should he try to take a swipe at her. But they both knew far too well that he couldn't have, even if he wanted to. Astarte leaning over him was still the one his heart yearned for, still beautiful just… in a different, more horrifying way. Through the ringing in his ears after his head cracked against a rock, he could hear someone call out to him but whoever it was, they were successfully pushed back by the horde of undead Nephilim.

"Astarte, don't do it.."

He quietly begged, even though he never begs. Seeing her like this, twisted and bestial, did something to him he couldn't quite comprehend. Touched that part of his soul he didn't even know about. Strangely enough, even in her madness, Astarte must've sensed something in him that gave her a pause as she curiously tilted her head to one side. All the moments, even the shortest ones, he'd spent with Astarte in the past were flashing before his eyes. Every time they had one another's back in battle, every time one saved the other's life, every time they spoke about the things they would never tell anyone else whenever they were alone. And that memorable moment when they stood together, away from the prying eyes that moonlit night. Abaddon was listening to her as she asked him if what she feels is right, if there's any possible way he feels that way as well. He almost laughed at her obliviousness and the fact that his love was there before she even realised her own. Of course.. He took her hands in his and gazed into her eyes, absolutely mesmerized, waiting for permission to finally grant her the proof of his love and devotion, one which she silently gave him with a nod and a smile.

"I would walk through the fire of Nine Hells for you."

He said before leaning down to place a chaste kiss on her lips. A kiss, stolen kiss he was dying to receive. It was very brief but still felt like his first flight over the White City. Liberating, wonderful and equally as intoxicating. Those were the most beautiful memories he'd ever made but now they were like a parasite buried deeply into his brain, one that refused to leave his head, reminding him of better times and cackling maniacally at him as the present was coming undone before his very eyes. He wanted those memories to go. But there was no escape. Neither from them nor from Astarte herself.

"Look at me.."

"I am."

"Please, come to your senses. It's not you.. You need to fight it, I know you have it in you. Don't leave me like this… Don't you remember everything I'd done for you? Everything you'd done for me ?"

For a second, Astarte's grin fell, making place for a thoughtful expression and for this short second Abaddon dared to hope that there's still light in her. That he somehow managed to get to her. But all these hopes were taken away when she shook her head and looked at him… not with anger. It was pity, plain and simple as she spoke in a condescending tone.

"Fool. So loyal and righteous. Look around! The war had ended long ago, yet we remain stranded in this forsaken tomb! We've been abandoned and no one will set us free if we don't do so ourselves! Don't tell me you cannot see it."

He couldn't believe his ears. It wasn't the honorable and just angel he used to know. The Astarte he knew was gone. This was a twisted monster bearing the visage of his dearest, taunting him with her beauty that was always keeping his hand paralyzed whenever he tried to strike her even though his life depended from it.

"I have chosen my path, Abaddon. And you can walk it with me.."

Abaddon eyed her hand warily as she stretched it out to him, offering him help in standing up. He was torn. On the one hand, he so, so wanted to accept and be with Astarte as he used to. No one would take her from him ever again. But taking her hand would also mean slipping into the hateful darkness. Welcoming the sullying blackness inside and succumbing to madness. Straying from the light and forsaking his duty in favor of the same accursed power that destroyed her.

It was a dangerous thing, this love.. Pushing even the most reasonable people to do unthinkable and dangerous things in the name of it. More often than not at costs that rarely make it worth it. Lucifer knew this. And he used it as a weapon against Abaddon by turning Astarte. He knew not what the Dark Prince offered her but it must've been worth losing oneself. Astarte was now Lucifer's servant, not the love of Abaddon's eternal life. He couldn't… he couldn't end up like her. His already bleeding heart screamed out with anguish when he finally gathered himself to speak.. and refused.

"I… can't do this, Astarte. Not even for you…"

"That's a pity…"

Abaddon grunted in pain when the pressure on his wrist increased to the point when he could feel his bones beginning to crack. And then as suddenly as it appeared, the crushing weight was gone, both from his arm and his chest. But he wasn't free. His breath was abruptly cut off when Astarte's slender fingers, which often fiddled with his hair when he had a moment to lie down and rest after a hard day, looking up at her sitting beside his head, before all this, mercilessly curled around his throat and lifted him up to her eye level until his toes could no longer reach the ground. She was strong. Stronger than he remembered. His left hand grasped Astarte's wrist as he tried to struggle free while he raised his sword to attack. But… looking deep into her eyes, at her face, mouth curved in a poisonous sweet smile, the silken skin of her cheeks… His hand trembled. Once again he proved her and himself he doesn't have it in him to do this. Damn it all. This one, seemingly harmless emotion was what ultimately led him to his own doom. If he'd never fallen for Astarte he wouldn't be here, flapping his wings madly in an attempt to wriggle out of her hold. But he couldn't command his heart. It would not listen to him.. Abaddon couldn't simply stop loving Astarte. Her eyebrows furrowed in a gentle frown and he felt the tip of her gilded spear press insistently against his abdomen, right under his ribs. Cold sweat began to bead around his brow. Oh Creator…

"Fret not, love.."

Astarte purred, making him finally stop beating his wings and look her in the eye again only to see an unsettling spark in there. Despite the obvious danger, hearing her call him her "love" in this deceivingly sweet voice still made his racing heart skip a beat.

"It won't be long.. And when you die, you'll be forever at my side. Just as you desired."

As a monster, not unlike her. A living corpse that defiled the natural order by its existence itself. He didn't want to go like this. What an end it is for a general of Heaven? Killed by his own lieutenant and brought back to life as a shambling husk of what he used to be? Preposterous. Cold lump of fear settled into the pit of his stomach. He could only count seconds. One.. two… it didn't even come to three when the blade sunk deeply into his flesh, piercing the armor as though it wasn't even there in the first place and running him through. After all, the spear was created specifically to fight armored opponents… Abaddon wanted to scream out in pain but the wail of agony was cut short by the firm grasp on his throat that stopped the air escaping his lungs. Pain clouded his vision but did not silence his racing thoughts. He was weak. He couldn't strike Astarte down as his enemy, denying her the well deserved rest and falling to her blade like a fool he felt like. He struggled to breathe and keep his eyes opened when he felt Astarte loosen her ironclad grip on his neck and move her hand to his face, oh so gently pulling the strands of his hair, matted with sweat, to the side and behind his ear before placing the same hand on the back of his neck to keep his head still. He gasped for air through his opened mouth as blood was beginning to well up in his throat and dribble down his chin. And then Astarte unexpectedly leaned in and decisively captured his lips with her own, granting him the final kiss for a farewell.

Abaddon's eyes widened in fear and shock but even though the pain of the spear through his side, he found himself going slack in Astarte's arms. His ornate blade clattered to the ground when his fingers unfurled and let it slip out. No strength remained within him to even try and respond to Astarte's lips, even if he wanted to. But what he hoped to be his last comfort turned out to be nothing more than a cruel torment with how cold and meaningless the kiss felt. It was nothing like the one back in the White City. Hollow seconds ticked by. It tasted only of the blood flooding his tongue and the bitter defeat. No love, no passion and no feelings remained in her black heart. Only the empty void and tasteless ashes… Monster. Astarte no longer… She would never hurt him…

Astarte knew him and all of his weak spots all too well. She knew how and where to strike to make it hurt. And this last kiss was only a tool to her. There wasn't any physical pain anymore when she finally pulled away with his blood painting her lips in deep crimson and let his body slip down the spear to collapse onto the shriveled grass. The last thing Abaddon saw before numbing darkness swallowed him was Astarte delightedly licking his scarlet life essence on her mouth and teeth before she hummed contentedly

"Farewell, my love. I'll see you again soon enough…"

She stood close, gazing at the distant stars shimmering in the black sky.

"The night sure is beautiful."

"It is. Even more so with you around."

"Tsk. Sweet-talker…"

In the impenetrable black, Abaddon heard nothing, saw nothing and felt nothing aside from the dull ache within his chest. Betrayal… Every beat of his heart was a torture. He couldn't even tell if it was really beating or not anymore. It bled ceaselessly. Craving for the lost love. Crying out to Astarte as something started to tug at the strings of his very soul. Trying to pull him free from his still body that refused to move no matter how much he wished to stand or at least sit up. Memories were passing all too quickly through his head. Eyes shining with uncertainty, a relieved smile as he staggered upright with a pained grimace that was supposed to be a comforting smile..

" Are you certain everything is alright? For a moment there I was afraid you were gone.."

"Never, my light. I would never leave you."

He wasn't going to the Kingdom of the Dead, he was certain. Astarte would make sure of it.. Curse Lucifer.. curse this wretched feeling still coiled in his chest, like a festering plague. Warriors of Heaven are people of unbreakable steel. Calm and collected beings of logic. But when it comes to honest feelings, there's nothing in between. They either don't care or love to the death. And when they love and it all falls apart, their hearts break like no one else's. No, they don't even break… they shatter to a million pieces like a frozen flower. And even if they are ever put back together, they're never the same. Those scars run too deep to ever disappear. Curse everything… Soft hair he tangled his fingers in, a heartbeat right beside his… warm presence next to him and a misleadingly delicate cheek pressed to the skin on top of his chest..

"What happens now then?"

"Doesn't matter. As long as we stay together."

"We will, Abaddon…"

He tasted the copper tinge of blood again as Astarte's voice echoed in his head when she swore to him. When he believed her..

I  P R O M I S E .

Those two words… They meant a world to him. Even after he saw what Astarte had become… Abaddon desperately clung to those words like a drowning man holds onto the final breath until the very last second. And that was his downfall. She promised me…

The last memory of Astarte before all this chaos wormed its way into his mind. A less pleasant one. He could see there was something wrong with her back then. This was the first time they had a true falling out. Well.. can this really be called a falling out if it was just him being yelled at? Astarte was changed already. Something happened to her after the Nephilim slaughter. Something he had foolishly overlooked. Maybe he was just too preoccupied with his own grief? Blood tumbled down from her wound, painting both her and his armor in vibrant red from where a crude spear met her body… 

It didn't take long for the last of the Nephilim to fall when this happened. She held onto life tightly as he led her deeper into the garden where healers would take care of her. Abaddon waited outside the tent, pacing back and forth until Azrael, who'd been tending to Astarte himself, walked out. A slender hand fell onto his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks and making him look at his old friend bearing a sullen expression. He'd never been so terrified in his life like in this short moment when he waited for Azrael to inevitably tell him that it was too late to help her but he merely asked Abaddon to come with him inside. Somehow, it was even worse. He saw her sitting on the edge of a cot, face pale, lips pressed into a thin line, staring at nothing. Eyes of other angels were on the three of them as the two archangels walked in. It was a relief to see her alive but there was no doubt that something was wrong. The patches of fresh crimson staining her trousers on her inner thighs only confirmed his suspicions. And Azrael didn't keep him waiting for an explanation.

"She was with child.."

The news hit him like a slug to the face. With a sack of bricks no less. Astarte, his beloved, bearing his blood in her womb. By all means he should feel ecstatic. He should rejoice. But this one word, this tiny word filled him with absolute dread. Was.

"The blade went deep.. There was nothing I could do. I'm sorry."

Who knows how long he stood there like a wooden stake? There was nothing I could do. Azrael was inarguably the best healer in the White City. He knew what he was saying. And yet… Abaddon found it difficult to believe his words. A child. His child. Died before they even had a chance to live.. It hurt more than any wound he'd ever received. When he finally could move, he approached Astarte and sat beside her, reaching for her hand to give her something to hold on to. But her violent reaction caught him off guard. She jerked away, her words dripped like acid.

"It's your fault. Get away from me!"

"Astarte, listen.."

"No! It never should've happened! Why would you do this to me?!"

This was the first time she called him per "you" in the presence of other angels. He knew not what she was truly going through but if his own sorrow was any indication, it must've been a nightmare. They'd lost something they didn't even know they had and it felt like the end of the world they'd built together. In a way, it was... Abaddon tried reaching out again but Astarte batted his hand away and leaped up to her feet despite the pain.

"Don't touch me! Do not speak to me, get off!"

"Astarte!"

He managed to call out before she stormed out of the tent, wrapping her wings around herself as a barrier that could protect her from the world around. Were it not for a firm grip on his arm, he would've gone after her. It was Nathaniel who stopped him. Abaddon looked at his friend, the right side of his face wrapped up in bandages just like his side he was keeping his hand over.

"It's not going to help. Let her go for now."

It's been a long time since he felt this lonely. He left the tent without another word, ignoring whatever it was Azrael was saying, and walked away from the camp like a wandering spectre who lost its way to the Well. And when he was far enough, he found himself collapsing on the ground, angrily hitting it with his fist as though it was the culprit here. They died without so much of a name.. Abaddon knew that what Astarte said wasn't true. He had no idea, it can't have been his fault… and yet this thought kept bothering him.

I should've protected you better. I have failed you.. both of you…

It took a couple of shaky breaths to collect his thoughts. Unable to do anything else, he pulled himself to his knees, clasped his hands together and started to whisper a prayer, seeking compassion in the Creator and his silent presence.

Astarte was already slipping after that and the prolonged stay in Eden only made it worse. She became distant and irritable, constantly itching for a fight, be it with words or blades. He thought she needed time to grieve. But this was something else. Something more sinister. Perhaps if he noticed it earlier.. done something… If only…

The odd tugging suddenly ceased and moments later a wave of comforting warmth washed all over him, gathering in his side where he was impaled. Deep within his chest, he felt his heart quiver, desperately fighting to keep beating. At first he thought he was merely waiting for Astarte to pull him back into the land of the living as a detestable abomination but no.. He yet lived. His thoughts were abruptly dispersed when he heard voices, very familiar and concerned voices, break through, the buzzing in his head.

"Did that do it?"

"Is he even alive ?"

"Hard to tell. It doesn't look good.."

"No, it doesn't.. Do you think we got to him on time?"

"I do not know. I'm not even sure if- Wait, I think he moved."

Abaddon indeed stirred, prying his eyes open with no small effort, immediately regretting his choice after a far too bright light intruded underneath his eyelids, and descending into a fit of uncontrollable coughs, spitting out all the blood that remained within as soon as he took a deeper breath. Pain. Horrible, excruciating pain filled his chest. He had been right. His sternum was definitely broken.

Damn all of it. Damn Lucifer, damn the Nephilim and damn the blasted air that hurt his lungs with every breath. Mist eventually fell from his sights, revealing to him familiar, tired faces of angelic soldiers leaning over him with distressed looks. His men. The Faneguard. They survived. Some of them at least… Malahidael wasn't so lucky.. One of them, Fariel if his memory doesn't deceive him, was holding up Abaddon's hand in his, and held between his curled fingers, Abaddon noticed an emptied crystal, a used up healing shard glimmering in the sunlight as the energy that was channelled into his body began to close the torn blood vessels.

"Lord Abaddon. Can you hear me?"

Gasping for another bit of air, horribly weakened but still very much alive and likely to stay that way, Abaddon gurgled out a disturbing sound that was supposed to be a miserable chuckle. In honesty, it sounded more like a dying demon than a laugh.. It only served to agitate them even further until he breathed out with relief and nodded as no coherent word could form in his mouth. What happened to Astarte when he was on death's door, he could only guess. But one thing he was sure of. She was still out there. Raving mad and dangerous to all who step into Eden. The law was clear. Astarte had fallen into darkness, defiled the dead and raised her weapon against her brethren. This was not an easy decision but after what he'd seen and lived through, Abaddon was certain now. He tried to bring her back, save her from the hate that grew within her like a malicious weed. But she was clearly too far gone. He couldn't help her.. Too late. As always, he was too late. Whether Abaddon likes it or not, Astarte needs to die. There was nothing more he could do for her. But he won't be the one to play the executioner and the hand of justice. He knew he couldn't. He'd failed twice already.. It will be done, just… not now.

Perhaps another time… They were safe for now. And he needed to think… Abaddon lifted his free hand to his mouth. It was still there, this horrid sensation.. and he knew it won't go away for a long, long time. Resting his head against the ground, he exhaled heavily as blessed unconsciousness started to take a hold on him once more. He needed to rest. They all did…

Even as he was falling into the dark again, he could still feel Astarte's venomous kiss upon his lips. Burning like fire and sinking cruel claws into his chest. Would he ever forgive her for tearing his heart apart? Probably. It wasn't her fault after all. It can't be, can it? Would he ever forget, though? Unlikely.. Abaddon couldn't help but wonder… if it was all his fault? He couldn't command his feelings and order them to leave him. But still, he felt guilty. Not even for Astarte's fall anymore but for ever letting this infatuation control him. That's where this love had gotten him so far. It left him weak and vulnerable. It was beautiful while it lasted but now? Only suffering remained.

No wonder Heaven has such a disdain for love. It causes naught but misery and ruin. A dire thought invaded his hazy mind. It matters not what Astarte had done. He still loved her. Soon, she will be put to rest. And him? Well.. Every, even the greatest warrior has to fall in battle. Eventually… And when that day comes, he will be ready to embrace his end. When that day comes.. they will meet again. Maybe... But until then… His heart hastened even still as he took another breath and silently told himself…

…Never again…

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

It.. it was supposed to be short? I did say short fic, didn't I? Uhh.. Whoops 😓

Also, Gimp 2 has nearly succeed in driving me nuts. In Poland we say "stand on eyelashes and clap one's ears" when something is nigh impossible. Yeah. That was that.

Btw, I take back everything I said about Abaddon's shoulder pads , they're mf'ing gorgeous 👌

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

I COULDN’T RESIST—

@randomly-a-fan I tried to do a second part to your beautiful work 🥺👉👈

Pairing: Jason Voorheese x MJ, Jason Voorheese x Baby Malon, Pennywise x MJ

Warnings: Dark intentions, angst, violence, small gore

Don’t hesitate to tell me if I did any mistakes!

Masquerade

—

Entering the house silently to surprise her father, MJ some steps behind her since she wanted to check on the bears, Malon tiptoed toward the couch where she saw him sitting, his big figure taking most of it. “hmpf...” Muffling her giggles, she went toward the front and jumped before him, only to jump back with a scream as she tossed the flowers to the ground. Before her wasn’t what she saw from behind, it was the clown she saw in the field, his grey outfit replacing the dark green jacket.

“Hello again sweet Malon...” He said with a dark smile on his red lips. She could only respond with a small cry as panic invaded her body when she hears the *clank* from the door being slammed shut. Banging was heard as her mother screamed for her, her hands bruising because of how hard she slammed them on the wood. Turning back toward the clown, a gasp escaped Malon’s lips as what she saw shocked her: it wasn’t Pennywise anymore, but Freddy Krueger standing before her, his menacing smile and burnt skin scaring her half to death as she fell to the ground, her eyes not leaving his form. “Come to Freddy—“ As he lunged at her, the two turned their heads toward the door, now seeing a blade transpiercing the old wood. Thinking fast, the smaller redhead rolled to the side and screamed again as she almost got cut by the rusty blades-like-fingernails of his glove. Sadly, before she had the chance to get up, he slashed at her again, this time cutting the front of her dress and scratching her belly. With a pained and scared scream, she finally let tears escape her eyes and walked backward, touching the wall with one hand as the other is on her wound. Pennywise only growled as she saw him drool, breaking his character, before changing into something she seriously didn’t want him to...

“D..Daddy....” The shapeshifter opened his arms and tilted his head, almost convincing her as she frowned and fell to her knees, accepting her fate...

Until she heard the wood of the door giving away, big footsteps coming toward the living room as her teary eyes looked up at the second figure of her dad coming in the doorway, her mother letting out a scream as she saw the way she was, her hand still on her bleeding wound. MJ couldn’t believe what had happened.... But Jason was furious. Catching his wailing wife, he put her on the ground as she glared at the clown, her eyes going back and forth between him and her daughter. “Don’t do this......” Hearing her small scared voice, Pennywise looked down at the woman he still love, shifting back to his real form, the girl at his feet whimpering. She hadn’t changed one bit from what he remembered... Taking some steps toward the pair and taking Malon by the wrist, he looked strait at the crying woman, ignoring the warning glare her husband’s sending him, his grip tightening on his machete. “If you come back with me, Gumdrop.... I’ll let her go.” As if to make them remember he still has her in his grip, he put the crying redhead before him and tightened his grip on her small wrist, hearing her bones shifting as a scream left her.

“Or... I’ll just take her with me.” Still crying and breathing shakily, she nodded her head and said through her tears: “P-please... Let her g-go...” A triumphing smile on his face, he suddenly jumped at Jason who only had the time to put his machete before him, throwing the girl he had in his hold toward the wall, almost knocking her out as her mother caught her. Pennywise’s teeth sharp like razor blades, he caught the blade of the weapon between them and tried to bite the undead man before him, only for Jason to kick his shin and knock him off. He got up in a haste and looked at the clown, his sharp teeth still out as his eyes changed to red, the glow surprising him only a little before he swung his blade but missed.

They fought for a while, the two of them getting some licks in it before Pennywise had an idea, shifting into the man before him and rolling two or three times. When the two of them got up, They stopped as they heard the click of a gun’s safety. Turning their head, they saw MJ with a gun in her shaking hands, her face showing evident panic as she looked at the two masked face, not knowing which is who. Her head was turning and the adrenaline was slowly fading, so she had to do her choice fast.

“I...I ........” Not knowing what to do or say, she frowned as she saw the two doing the same thing, and she knew he was doing it on purpose.... ‘Stop... Please I’ll go with y-you.... please just leave them.....’ Hearing her thoughts, the alien smiled and changed back as Jason looked at the weapon that fell to the ground during the fact, picking it up in a haste as he saw his new enemy going toward his shaking wife who couldn’t even pull the trigger.

He then rammed his arm forward and impaled the clown in one swift motion.... but he was too late as the demon had already escaped in thin air, his wife too....... Seeing his daughter in new clothes, her belly wrapped and tears streaming down her face, he went toward her and kneeled in defeat, feeling Malon wrapping her arms around him, wails escaping her lips as she hugged him tight. He will get her back, he had to. He won’t rest until she’s here, alive and well....

To be continued

[darkromanceblackburn]

Midnight Screams

A Richard Firewood Fic.

Richard Firewood created by me

Authors Note: The first story with Richard Firewood my slasher OC. I tried to pin-point his personality, how manipulative, greedy, selfish, narcissistic he is. He is a killer after all, not a dream guy, but he does can play it.... For his own purpouse of course.

Warning: Gore, Blood, Death and some Sexual Scene

The intimidating building that could be easily mistaken for a castel, made Fionna wonder if the scenario before her was even real.

If you asked her, the perfect holiday would have been maybe somewhere where she could go to malls, museums, but of course when you were stuck with grandparents you couldn’t possible say no.

Her grandparents sighed with happiness, walking on the white marble steps of the principal entry of the luxurious hotel and all Fionna could do was sigh and follow after them, their lugages already taken by the bellhop men.

As she entered the hotel, her eyes widened by the decor and the great staircase, covered by an impecable blood red carpet. The chandelier that was anything but modest, was probably made out of gold and with crystals.

Everything screamed luxury that would make the greediest human drool. Everything was either marble, gold or something that probably costed millions of dollars.

What really made her uneasy was the lack of people. Looking around she noticed just a few people that were probably guests: a very out together women, probably in her late 30s, a couple that enjoyed some coffee and a little boy that played with his toys on the floor.

Fionna walked to the reception desk where her grandparents were and her eyes imediately were caught by a pair of emerald eyes.

"Good day, Sir and Ma'm. Welcome to the Grand Firewood Hotel! Its so good to see more people come." the man behind the mahogony desk spoke in a rich voice, deep and clear.

Inspecting him, one thing Fionna noticed was that he was tall, a man maybe in his late 30s. He had jet black hair, dark as the night into a long high ponytail, his forehead covered by bangs. His attire was pristine, white button up with a victorian purple vest and a satin scarp tucked inside the vest. She also noticed that he was wearing white as snow gloves.

"The ride was actually horrible, but we are more than happy to be here. We heard of this hotel and we wanted to spend two weeks here. Get away from The big City." Fionnas grandfather spoke, giving the man a smile.

"Why are only a few people here if the hotel is as grand as it claims to be?" Fionna asked, without realizing, only to recieve a raised eyebrow from the man.

"Well, considering you weren't asleep, my dear... During your ride here... The hotel is far up into The Mountains and most wouldn’t do all the traveling here, but I asure you, we delivere five star services." the man spoke with such calmness, it made Fionna gulp down.

"I-I am sorry... I" Fionna wanted to excuse herself, but the man waved it off.

"So? Just a suite or would you want two?" The man asked, looking from The grandparents to Fionna.

"Two would do. Thank you Mr-" Fionnas grandfather said, the man smiling.

"Richard Firewood, but you can call me Richard. No need for all the Mr. It makes me feel old." Richard said, taking two set of keys and walking towards the Grand staircase, motioning for them to follow them.

"Its absolutly beautiful! Its like a castel from a fairtale." your grandmother said, looking over all the paintings and statues. Fionna was pulled from her thoughts by Richard chuckling, the sound like music to her ears.

She had to admit he was handsome and oh so charming.

'Pull yourself together, Fionna! He is so much older than you. You are just a 19 year old girl.' Fionna told herself.

They finally reached their rooms, which were next to eachother. Richard unlocked the rooms and when Fionna entered she always dropped her mouth open. It was amazing, it looked like the room of a princess; kind sized bed with silk sheets, white fluffy carpet, the gigantic window with the purple curtains.

"I hope you will enjoy your stay, darling." Richards voice broke her daydreaming, making her blush and nod. Her grandparents where already in their suite.

Richard walked towards her and Fionna instinctively took a step back, only to stop when Richards hand reached towards her to hand the keys.

"T-Thank you." she said in a shaky voice, then just like that he walked away.

The rest of the days at the hotel went normally, breakfast was mouthwatering like Lunch and dinner. The hotel had everything; a cinema, a spa, a ballroom... Anything you could ever want for a great vacantion.

Today was just different, when Fionna waited to meet with her grandparents at breakfast, but they didn't came and it didn't eased her nerves that she was the only person in the restaurant.

A hand on her shoulder made her jump a little, she turned her head and noticed it was Richard.

"Apologize for startling you." he excused himself.

"Ummm... Have you seen my grandparents? We usually meet for breakfast." Fionna asked.

"Ahhh yes, they had breakfast earlier and decided to take a walk into the garden of the hotel." Richard answered her, making her nod, but still she was uneasy.

"Want some company?" Richard asked, taking a seat with her. She thought about it over and shrugged. Why not? She felt pretty lonely.

They eat breakfast and talked, until they laughed. She had to admit Richard was absolutly breathtaking; not only was he so handsome, but deeply smart. Who would have thought that the manager of the luxurious hotel was a former medical student.

"I do play the piano sometimes when none is at the hotel. It gets pretty lonely here." Richard said finishing his Coffee.

"Really? I always wanted to learn how to! But you know.... Never for the chance to own one." Fionna said, looking down at her empty plate.

"Want me to teach you?" That question made Fionna look up with deep interest and she followed the man to the ballroom where the Grand piano laid.

It was so beautiful and she was dying to touch the musical instrument. They both sat down in front of it.

"How about I play you one of my favorites?" he asked and she nodded, then he began and she found herself dreamingly looking at the black haired male. The music was like a purr of a cat, so calm and relaxing.

After 10 minutes she found herself leaning into him, until their faces were inches away from one another. That was the signal as she pressed her lips to his plush ones, emerald eyes looking wide open, but closed as Richard kissed her back.

The kiss was slow with a tint of sensual moves from the much more experimented man. Then like someone threw a bucket of ice on Richard he pulled away.

"I am sorry... I shouldn't-" but he was cut off by the younger female smashing her lips back against his.

The hell with it...

The next actions were like a blurr, he picked her up and laid her on the Grand piano, lips against one another, hands gropping, moans leaving her lips.

Fionna would be damned if she refused him. The taste of tabaco and wine on her lips from his kisses.

She felt his hands under her skirt and her panties been pulled aside. The next hour was filled by skin slapping against skin, kisses and bites, hair tugging and dirty talk that she wouldn't have expected from 'the gentleman' on top of her.

"You like this?"

"So tight and wet... Are you close?"

"I am gonna ravish you."

That was hours ago, as she laid now in her hotel room on the bed, thinking about this mornings events. She was pulled from her daydreaming when she heard a thug coming from The hallway. Getting her robe on she slowly walked and opened the door, and what she saw made her as pale as a ghost.

It was the middle aged woman that she saw when she first came to the hotel, blood all over her, her make up destroyed.

"H-Help... P-Please.... He.. He took my kidney! Oh God..." she sobbed, crawling down the hallway that had foot steps follow.

Fionnas eyes widened when she saw Who was at the end of the hallway. Richard, his scarlf long gone and clothes painted in red, and what looked like a big switch blade in his hand.

Fionna quickly shut her room, locking it and getting away from it. Outside, Richard stalked towards the woman, crouching down over her body.

"It would be a waste to kill you now. I only got your kidney..... But... The hell with it." he said, then trusted the blade into her shoulder, not a fatal wound yet.

"Hurts, huh? You should have thought of that when you run away, you little whore." Richard snarled, the womans eyes blood shot, as snot came out of her nose. The man scrunched up his face at the image.

"Disgusting." he said then stabbed her right between her legs, making her gasp, as he twisted the blade inside her.

"Too big?" Richard said with mockness, then pulled out, blood pouring out of her wounds. He got up and looked towards the door of Fionnas room, knocking.

"Come out, darling. Don't make me break the door." Richard said with such calmness that made Fionna start to sob, yelling about leaving her alone. The black haired man sighed.

"So be it." he said, then using all his strength he began to kick the door, one time, two time, then finally he kicked the door off its hinges.

A scream thore the room that was basked into The darkness and then silence, as Fionna was back handed by the male, the sting on her cheek making her fall down on her knees.

She couldn't believe that this was happening, the man who was the perfect empitom of a gentleman. He used his suave voice and charming ways to manipulate her.

"You tricked me! You used me..." Fionna sobbed, looking up at Richard. The man raised an eyebrow and began to play with the butterfly knife in his hand, like an expert, only making the woman more anxious.

"I used you? I am sorry to disagree you, doll.... But.... You practicaly begged me to take you." Richard said with a dark malicious smirk.

Fionna looked at him in shock, ready to get up and run, only to have her head tugged back by her hair.

"Easy, easy, little rabbit...." Richard whispered in her ear, his blade running across her neck.

"Got to say.... Your grandparents are quite healthy.... Not good enough for a kidney or liver transplant, but cannibals do pay handsomely." The man whispered making Fionna freeze in shock, more tears running down her face.

"Y-You monster...." she said through grinted teeth, only to recieve a deep chuckle.

"You know.... I was gonna keep you for a little while, but money and blood is more tempting than pussy." he said then pierced her right between her collarbone, dragging the blade down to her core, guts and insides spilling out, her eyes now lifeless pools.

The corpse dropped down on the once white carpet now crimson red. Richard sighed and sat down on the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lightened it up, taking a deep drag of smoke.

Just another day at the Grand Firewood Hotel...

If only his grandfather could see him... He would be so proud.

[pvntherz]

The Beauty Of Death

A/N: if you find this concept/fic to be interesting. Ignore all the other fic under the tag "hades and persephone" because this is the first part of the rewrite. Also Hades is Anne, Persephone is Cathy P, and Hermes is Kitty. Just ignore the fact that my casting choices place them in weird relationships biologically 💀 Also props to Megan for helping me write this

Episkyros: A game for kids to play in Ancient Greece; which was something of a cross between rugby and American football.

Ostrakinda: A game in which a shell was painted black one side. The black side was “night,” and the unpainted side was “day.” Children divided into two teams, one for “night” and one for “day.” The shell was thrown and the team whose color came up had to chase the other team.

Part 1 Part 2

TW: uhh,, scars ig? I really don't know

💙💚💜

The underworld was a cold place. It was a barren wasteland filled with nothing but souls of the dead and desolate.

Or at least, that's what mortals told Persephone. They told her it was empty and that she'd die the second she stepped foot in the underworld. She'd been told of the horrible things Hades did to mortals who entered the underworld. Granted, Persephone was no mortal, she wasn't exactly the strongest of goddesses and most confused her for a simple forest nymph.

However that's not what Persephone saw.

She saw life, but something was off about it. Small children ran around, playing games like Ostrakinda and Episkyros, but the children were all bruised and cut. Women grouped together in circles, weaving baskets and chatting amongst themselves, but many of them were pale and sickly. Young women walked the streets with babies strapped to their backs and small children holding their hands, but the children had large bite marks and some babies having nubs where there should be fingers, feet, or hands.

The people Persephone looked at were dead, yet there was something about them that made them seem alive.

On top of the citizens lively appearances, the city's structural layout seemed no different compared to the few big cities Persephone had been allowed to visit. The buildings had all been laid out in a neatly organized manner, with the most important ones being placed on some kind of natural elevation, such as a hill or mountain top. The only difference being that for some reason, it wasn't a temple that was at the highest point, but a castle.

Persephone simply assumed it was for the more important government officials or maybe even Hades themself. Either way, she took note of the fact that if she wanted to hide out here, she'd best avoid going near it.

After staring for what felt like forever, Persephone stood up straight and began wandering the streets. She took a deep breath and inhaled the many scents of the underworld. It was strange. The aroma of freshly baked bread and fresh fruit filled the air, but was contrasted by the harsh smell of metals and silver. Persephone found a strange sense of comfort in it. The underworld was the one thing she craved the most.

Change.

The underworld wasn't perfect. Far from it, really. It showed the pain of society, it exposed everything about mortals that made them, well, mortals.

Persephone had wandered across a stadium. She expected to see lions and gladiators going at each other's throats. Instead she was met with a rather quiet, peaceful aura. Instead of bloodshed and gore, a play was taking place in the central ring. Which one she couldn't really tell, but it was interesting enough for her to sit down and watch the rest of it.

"Hey lady?"

Persephone tore her gaze from the play and looked to her left. She saw a small child with a face covered in cuts and scratches.

The young boy cleared his throat and held up a small wilted flower. "I saw you bring some grass back to life when you stepped on it and then flowers grew from it, so I wanted to see if you could do the same thing with this flower.." He looked away nervously.

Persephone chuckled softly and tapped her finger against the flower. "There you go, but you're gonna have to water it every day if you want to keep it alive." She ruffled the small boy's hair and stood up. "Our little secret, okay?"

The little boy nodded and ran back towards his seat leaving Persephone alone.

Persephone stood up and quickly left the arena, not wanting to cause more of possible ruckus than she probably just did.

She quickly ran down the pathway and turned whenever she possibly could. Until she couldn't. Persephone felt on edge. Every bone in her body screamed at her to run, but she couldn't. She knew what the feeling was, or at least, what it meant.

Something was coming and it was something entirely out of her domain. It was fast, faster than the poor girl could even think.

"Persephone?"

The young woman flinched and slowly turned around. "Oh...Hermes?" She let out a sigh of relief. "I thought there was some big dead thing coming for you or with you." She swallowed nervously.

Hermes looked over her shoulder and shook her head. "No, it's just me and Cerberus. Nothing you need to worry about."

Persephone tilted her head to the side and furrowed her eyebrows. "What is Cerberus?"

"You know, the big three headed dog at the other end of the beach." Hermes shook her head and grabbed Persephone's wrist. "Doesn't matter, I need to get you out of here before my aunt finds you."

Persephone tugged back. "No! I don't want to go back just yet! It's not like I've done anything wrong." She crossed her arms and looked up at Hermes.

"Well for starters, you're in the underworld despite being very much alive," Hermes poked at the smaller woman's shoulder. "Two, you brought life to the underworld which is a big no-no if you don't have clearance," She stepped closer to Persephone. "Lastly, you know how your mother gets when you go too far without her! I don't wanna be held responsible for you doing something stupid and dying!"

Persephone flinched and covered her ears. "Okay, okay! I'll leave, just don't tell mom! Please, I really don't wanna deal with another talking to." She looked up slowly and froze in place. "H-hello ma'am.."

Hermes knitted her eyebrows together and sighed. "I hate to break it to you, but I'm not as stupid as Apollo and you can't-" She was suddenly aware of the presence of another person as she straightened her posture and gripped onto to the messenger bag and her caduceus. Hermes slowly turned around and looked up at the towering figure looking down at her. "Hey auntie." She stammered out.

Hades glared at her niece. "Go to the castle and stay in your room." She moved her hand and watched as Hermes sped off down the alleyway.

Persephone kept her eyes glued on the same path that Hermes had taken. She was nowhere near as fast as Hermes was, but there was a small chance she'd make it.

"Don't do it, you'll tear up your sandals," Hades said, eyes following Persephone's gaze. "Look, just follow me and don't try anything stupid. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

[exodusmc]

Prey

Genre: vampire au, smut 

Words: 3006

Paring: vampire Jin X human reader

Warning!:  Blood(feeding), rough sex, choking, unprotected sex, gore, overstimulation, manipulation(?), dirty talk

a/n: But like black haired Jin is superior :)

Gif is not mine 

He moved gracefully over the floor, eyes shing black and hair the softest of velvet. You stared openly at the handsome man, how his lips were so plush. Let’s just say you weren't the only one through heart eyes his way. He stopped before some girl, her eyes widening as she tried to look sexy. 

“Y/n!”your boss suddenly screamed at you, making you flinch and stop staring at the man.”Get to work!”

You started making coffee for the madame which was giving you an annoyed look, blushing furiously as you felt the handsome man look your way. It wasn't fun working in the food court but what wouldn't a student do for some more money?You would soon be going to college so you need every  penny you could get.

“Here’s your drink and sorry for the wait”you bow to the woman, stiffening at her scoff. 

“Start doing your work instead of staring”

“Sorry..”you mumbled as she walked away, eyes staring down at the floor just to not look anywhere else. You didn't mean to be so lost, he was just inhumanly handsome. 

-

Work ended later than it usually did, your body aching from cleaning the whole shop as punishment for your little slip up earlier. The mall was closed and it felt rather scary walking through it 11 pm but you were happy that you didn't have school in the morning or else you would be dead. You slipped out of the big building, shivering at the cold gust of wind which legit smacked you in the face.

“Oh god..”you ran to the bus stop, grateful for the little shed like structure which could hide you from most of the wind. When you saw the yellow vehicle coming, you realized that at least your job weren't the worst. 

Stepping inside the bus, warmth instantly made your body less stiff. You pulled a small smile at the man driving, which he didn't return, just drove before you could sit down towards the back.

“Rude..”mumbling you sent him a dirty look, deciding to use the seat belt incase he tried to kill you by driving of the road. You never liked being alone late at night but you couldn't walk home, so this was the best option.  

Music screamed in your ears as you stared out the window, seeing the same trees as you had seen for around 18 years. Autumn had really come now, the weather colder and duller. Halloween wasn't so far away either, which was fun. It meant no school and movies through the whole day. You smiled slightly at the thought being wrapped up in a blanket and having no worry in the world. Everything was so peaceful and you felt heavy, like you could fall asleep any second but the bus screeched, breaking so hard you flew forward, being caught by the seat belt but making a not so pretty sound. You took out one of your earphones, staring as the busdriver got out of the vehicle. Every hair stood on your body, an eerie feeling crawling over your skin. Something was wrong and the feeling grew the closer you got to the door. You saw the bus driver standing in the headlight, his back turned against you. A frown took its place on your lips, the song which you were listening to starting to sound like a running heartbeat. You swallowed hard about to call for the man when someone else appeared through thin air. His shoulders broad and he was taller than the driver. You stilled, eyes widening as the man grabbed a hold of the shorter ones throat, fingers piercing his skin and ripping his head of. You didn't know what to do, fear paralyzing you. The other one grabbed the headless body, putting his face against it and doing something you couldn't see, however he dropped the corpse and you could see him, who was too handsome and dripping in blood. You screamed, you had never screamed so loud before in your life. Stumbling backwards, panic growing when you realized you were stuck in the bus. The man snapped his head up at you, eyes staring at you, a predators red eyes. He moved with a speed no human could muster, standing inside the bus in one blick. You fell backwards, tears gushing over your cheeks, panic settling in your bones. It was the man you saw at the mall, the one with hair as the night, and now was he standing before you with his lower face covered in blood, fingers slick in the liquid. He took a step forward, instantly making you whimper. He was going to kill you, take all of your blood. 

“P-please d-don't kill m-me”you pleaded out, flinching when he leaned closer to your face, grinning down at you. 

“Oh..Why would I kill such a pretty little prey, before playing with it?”he questioned you, voice smooth and seeding shiver over your body. You cried harder, shaking when his hands reached for trembling limbs. 

The man grabbed you like you were a rag doll and you felt your world turn when you saw the fangs which pushed slightly against his plump under lip. You were so scared but could do nothing. He had caught you, his little prey. 

-

“Kim Seokjin! What in the world are you doing?!”Namjoon bombed through the mansion, eyes shining red. His anger was clear and Jin simply shrugged at the fuming vampire, a small smirk playing on his bloody lips. 

“Hm?”Jin answered bored, his hands holding your unconscious body. He couldn't care less about the leader and his irritation. Jin did what he wanted, even if Namjoon disliked it. 

“What do you think you are doing!?”brown hair stood everywhere on his head, evidence to him working late and running his hand through the locks. “You can't go kill people and take them!”

“But I just did”Jin looked smug and he realized that he was pushing at Namjoons patience, the latter having not fed in a long time. 

“ I know, I could smell her from a mile away and that means others could too!”Jin started to feel annoyance build in him at the nagging of the younger vampire. 

“You know what..my last feeding human died and I wanted a new one..”he hissed at Namjoon, who flinched back, his anger falling. 

“..You should have asked first, talked to me about it”

“It would have taken to long. She is mine now and I intended to keep her”Jin’s teeth shone in the lurky room, eyes like wise. 

He disappeared, leaving Namjoon biting his lip. He knew how much it hurt losing your human but Jin had never mention wanting a new one, refusing every time someone brought it up over the last century. So this was unaccounted for, completely random, and Namjoon feared because the humans had changed. Would everything go wrong and why was Jin so keen about keeping you?

-

It hurt, mostly because you felt stiff, but also because  your head spinned even when you had your eyes closed. What happened? You laid still, thinking that you were in your bed but the silk feeling and cloud like lightness made you open your eyes.. You had a nightmare filled with blood and a handsome face. Opening your eyes an inch, you wondered why you were in a different room when all you had was a nightmare.

“Good morning” instantly sitting up, chills ran down your spine when you saw your nightmare resting in an armchair, red as blood and velvet like his hair. “Slept well?”

He was beautiful and even more so when he wasn't covered in crimson liquid. You didn't know what to say or do. You were scared and all his attention made you feel small. 

“What are you?”whispering, you stared at him, taking in every feature. He wasn't human and that made him unreal. Skin slightly pale and shining. He had a gentle face but the way he watch you like a prey made him scary. 

“Oh I’m exactly what you think I am..A vampire” this can't be real. Vampires don't exist, which makes him just an imagination your head made up. Maybe it was  what you desire most but why would he be a killer then?You had a stare of, which you lost. He was powerful and sat with such grace you felt awful.

“Do you know what you are?”the question was weird, nonetheless making your blood run cold. 

“Human..”

“Right...My human”he got up from the chair, walking towards you as tears pooled in your eyes. Fright, chilling pure fright. It filled you, made you numb when he grabbed your chin with two fingers, forcing you to look at him, really look at him. Eyes shone bright red and fangs poked at the flesh of his lip. “My human...My blood”

He leaned forward, stopping to look in your pupils. You should have felt breath fanning over your face but didn't, because he was dead and didn't have to breathe. Danger swam in his glowing orbs, dripping in pleasure and  thrill. You lost a will to get away, relaxing into his grasp.  

“You’ll let me feed, right?”he mumbled, already scanning over your delicate neck, where his mark should be. You nodded, eyes dulling. Jin smiled down at your empty face, his hypnosis gripping you. “Thank you”

He kissed lightly against the skin, lips moving to coax blood to him. Licks made you shiver in anticipation, body reacting to him. Jin gave you one last kiss before piercing your skin, fangs burying down deep into you. Blood slipped from you, between his lips, hands holding you in place as your eyes widen. You felt warm and sensitive, small gasps leaving you, slowly turning to low moans. It felt great, addicting. You didn't want him to leave, to let you go. You wanted to stay in this feeling, drowning in him. Jin moved from your neck, chuckling at the whine which left you, fingers grasping to keep him close. 

“No, keep going..”you mewled out, trying to push his face back to your aching throat. 

“But I’ll kill you then”you whined louder, wetness pooling in your underwear, body burning under Jin’s grasp.  He could smell you and it was hard to control but he couldn't let go, not yet. 

Lapping lightly at your wound, you moan again , chasing after more. Jin kissed it one last time before moving from you, something which almost made you cry in desperation. 

“Don't worry my little bird, you’ll get what you want soon”tears flew from your eyes, body aching for more and sleep. You felt weird, light headed and horny to the point it hurt.

“No” Jin walked away, leaving you in despair and weak. You wanted more of him, all of him, but he left you to the darkness. 

-

“She smells too good”Taehyung groaned as Jin walked down the stairs, his head high, blood lingering on his tongue. 

“I know”

“Can I have a taste?”

“No”

“Why?”

Jin merely hissed at the younger one as a warning to keep away from what’s his. Your arousal still had a grip on him and he had to get away before he did something bad. Maybe it weren't a good idea to leave you smelling like that in a house full of vampires but he had to get away. 

“Touch her and I’ll rip your arm out”

-

Jin thought your hormones would have died down after four hours but when he stepped inside the mansion after a long run, he realized that it weren't the case. Your fermions laid around him like a hug, pleading for his touch of relief.  A small growl left him, mind fighting with his body if he should just walk out again or aid you. 

“You’re so stupid”Namjoon hissed, walking out from the right, his eyes shining red again.”You really left her like that with the youngest around”Jin knew it was stupid but he would have hurt her, so he couldn't stay. 

“Fix it”it was a command and it decided what Jin would do. He would go to you and he would help your burning body.

-

You tensed when the door flew open, hitting the wall with a thud and then closing a second after. He stood there, red eyed and  hungry. Your body acted on its own, begging for his touch. You whined out at the sight he was, dropped in a black silk shirt and the same color slacks. The items shoved of his body so well, following his broad shoulders and tiny waist. You wanted everything from him, every touch, every sensation.

“Please~”you whined out, leaning forward so he could see your neck, pricked with two faded marks. 

Jin hissed again, standing by you in a blink of an eye. He grabbed your wrists, pushing you to lay down on the soft covers, not really thinking about his strength. You squirmed, not caring about the force he put on you and how you would be bruised in the morning. Tongue dipped down on your jugular, licking a long strip up the whole body part, until he stopped by your jaw, he could feel your blood rush to his wet muscle, aching for him to take. Jin groaned at it, a hand grabbing both of your wrists and holding the over your head. You were on cloud nine and he hadn't even touched you. He made nothing of your shirt, eyeing your abdomen. Jin licked his lips, dragging a finger between your breasts, down your stomach and stopping by your jeans. It frustrated you, body burning in desire. 

“Keep your hand still and I’ll reward you”his purr had you drooling down there, fingers clenching to stay but begging to run through his hair. Jin smiled at your struggle, parting your thighs so he could roll down on you. 

He was hard and big, mouth watering. You let out a desperate sound, his hands dragging over your neck. Jin wanted to squeeze the part, to feel you struggle. Hair hung in maddening eyes, a predator catching his prey. 

“We can't keep these any longer..”the vampire mumbled while grabbing at your pants, putting a little more force on your hips.”They're in the way”

He shredded the fabric, having to close his eyes at the increase of your scent. The mix of your arousal and blood had him moving faster. Jin couldn't wait and he knew you couldn't either.  You never got to see him take of his clothes because he moved too fast, bare and in his flesh in a second. Your gaze wandered down his abdomen, gushing at how erect he was, pussy clenched at the mere glance of his cock. 

“Please please”chanting, you grabbed a hold of silk sheets, which were your only anchor. You needed him now. Jin smirked, ripping of the last pieces of clothing on your body, staring at your dripping cunt. You were so ready, he didn't even have to prepare you. 

“What do you want? Hmm? Use your words”whining and trashing, your body burnt at his tease. 

“Please fuck me~”it started to hurt, the feeling of arousal in you. Pressure only built and the second Jin pushed himself in you, stars took over your gaze. 

You gasped, back arching at the feeling of being filled. Jin moaned, your pussy clamping down  on his sex. Adrenaline flushed his system and he lost himself. Jin moved fast, pounding into you like no tomorrow. His hands gripped hard at your hips, scream like sounds ripping through your throat. 

“Scream for me baby, scream my name..”you gasped out, searching your mind for his name, realizing you didn't know it. “Jin. Scream it”

His name left your mouth like a prayer, hands letting go of silk sheets and grabbing velvet hair. You screamed and screamed, head turning. Jin kept his gaze on your neck, not being able to control the want to hold it. He pushed you down by putting pressure on your throat, choking you lightly. The loud sounds from you turned to stifled moans, making your pussy tighter. Jin smirked at it, growling while he moved. 

“You’ll stay forever, right? Give me your blood, right?”he panted out, face close to yours.You merely nodded, too out of it to speak. He hit the right spot every time he fucked into you, eyes rolling back. 

Jin felt his orgasm come fast, thrusts becoming sloppy. You were gone already, the euphoric feeling washing over you in forms of shaking and gasps. But the vampire didn't slow down, driving your body to overstimulation. Tears dropped from your eyes, choked out sobbs leaving your dry mouth. It hurt and felt so good at the same time. Jin growled out a moan as his hips snapped against yours, cock twitching in you before cumming in long spurts. He took deep breaths even when he didn't need to, while you panted lodly, hand formed bruises decorating your neck. He pulled out of you, landing besides you as your body shuddered. Sleepiness came over you mere seconds after your second orgasm. Jin glanced at your heavy eyelids, your screams of pleasure echoing in his ears. 

“Sleep my little human..Dream of peace”his voice was so soft, luling you so slumber. You had no grip on real life while Jin watched you disappear. Something between a smirk and a smile tugged at his lips. He lingered by your cheek, wanting to kiss it but choosing not to.”And stay by my side forever”

-

“Why Jin?” Namjoon asked the second Jin walked through his doors, hair still messy.”Why her?”A frown developed on his lips, his undead heart beating for the first time in a century. 

“Because she is her in another life and this time I am not letting her go”

[arigatouiris]

daughter of artemis // p.p — [10]

c h a p t e r  t e n

Pairing: Peter Parker x Demigod! Reader [Female pronouns]

Warnings: swearing; angst [a lot of it]; greek mythology rewritten [completely my interpretation of it, oops]; slightly based off the games god of war and assassin’s creed odyssey; hurt/comfort; cliche; fluff [on later chapters sometimes]; mentions of sex and gore; slight alternate universe

Follows events after Endgame, but Tony, Natasha, Steve, Loki are alive in this universe.

Author’s Note: THERE IS SO MUCH FLUFF UGH. I almost gagged with the fluff but heh. I love fluff. But, there’s also angst. I always try to portray a realistic romantic development, but yeah. I know I’m not even close to perfect. Let me know what you think! 

Word count: 4830

10 // πράσινο green

❅

Normally, (y/n) loved the weekend. Weekend meant she could get her reading done, she wouldn’t have to go to school and spend 8 hours not talking to anyone, but watching them talk to each other. But, this was perhaps one of the first weekends she actually dreaded not being able to sit with MJ, Ned and Peter and chat about useless things. Especially Peter. Maybe it was because she had seen a vision of him that she felt this familiar sort of fondness for him, but Peter made her heart warm and fuzzy inside.

She liked almost everything about him—even the fact that he was Spiderman. The way she saw it, it wasn’t extraordinary that he had powers (coming from a family of literal Gods), it was extraordinary that he wanted to use them to help others.

He was doing something Gods were not, and this fact she appreciated more than the others. She knew what it meant to have powers others did not; and this always caused people to get in and over their heads with the power, because it made them better than the others. Not to mention, he was cute; not having had the chance to meet a boy or girl her age before, (y/n) found it easy to find Peter attractive, especially with how small his eyes became when he smiled or laughed, or how he blushed way too easily, which made it all the more amusing for her to tease him.

She didn’t know what this feeling was, but if she were to describe it, it would be warmth. A strange but similar warmth she felt only around her mother, long ago.

Walking to the supermarket, she wondered what Peter Parker was doing at that moment. Shaking her head off his thoughts, telling herself she was focusing on him way too much, she walked into the store, hearing the chime of the door as she entered. Heading to the health supplies counter, she stocked up on some more cotton and bandages, antiseptic, for emergencies. She ran out of her own supply when Peter stitched her up.

She heard the door chime, indicating someone else come into the store. It was a beautiful woman, brown hair and green eyes, wearing nothing but a regular green tee and jeans. It looked like she had a bag, but (y/n) didn’t bother. Turning back to the aisle, she focused on getting the right brand of antiseptic.

The door chimed again, causing (y/n) to chuckle since it was a Saturday and she least expected it to be a busy day for the local store. Turning to the door, she spotted two little girls, a blonde and a brunette, walk in with their little kindergarten bags. They looked to be around five and (y/n) narrowed her eyes. What are they doing alone? It’s a Saturday. Shrugging, she went back to grabbing more supplies, but paused when she heard it.

A gunshot sounded inside the store, near the shopkeeper. Rushing to see what it was, she spotted the woman, pointing a gun at the storekeeper, who was now dead. Her eyes widened as the woman turned around to spot the kids, before (y/n) rushed to her and snapped the gun out of her hands. The woman now turned to (y/n) and smirked once, before (y/n) felt a strange chill go down her spine.

Her eyes were an eerie green; green like moss, staring into her very soul. They were unnatural and for some reason, she felt like she had seen this color on an animal before, not sure which animal it might have been. Stepping back, she felt her heart drop at the arrival of fear. I can’t smell a henchman, she thought, panicking. She doesn’t even, she can’t be! I know what the Boar looks like—

Before she could complete that thought, the woman grabbed the gun and pointed it at (y/n), only to have the demigod reflect in reflex and kick the gun out of her hands once again; she aimed a punch at the woman, which the woman didn’t deflect, causing her to go backwards. Quickly turning to the kids behind her, (y/n) screamed at them, telling them to hide. She could see both the little girls run to the back, to hide behind one of the counters. Turning back to the strange green-eyed woman, (y/n) narrowed her eyes.

    “What the hell are you?” She spat, before clutching on to her dagger tightly.

She was so glad she would never leave it at home. Her choice to never part with the dagger made sense each time. Rushing to the woman, (y/n) kicked to her side, which the woman once again didn’t deflect, and grabbed her hair and bashed her to the counter. The woman side stepped quickly, but (y/n) was faster; she held her dagger tightly and attempted to stab her at her side, but the woman instead clicked her tongue, swept her foot below (y/n)’s own footing, bringing the demigod down. A moment later, the woman ran off, outside the store. (y/n)’s first instinct was to run after her, but remembered the children.

Rushing to the counter at the back, she spotted a very scared blonde girl, but the brunette seemed rather calm. (y/n) knelt to their level and smiled.

    “You girls okay?”

The brunette nodded. (y/n) could hear sirens from outside the store, and looked at the brunette who was checking her watch.

    “My mom’s outside. She’s going to be so mad that I came out without her knowing.”

(y/n) chuckled, “You snuck out, huh?”

The brunette nodded proudly, “Yup.” She popped the ‘p’.

    “You kicked her ass!” The brunette girl said, grinning widely.

(y/n)’s eyes widened at the word the child used, “Where did you learn that word?”

The girl smiled. The blonde girl with her, blinked a couple of times. (y/n) chuckled some more before holding both the girls’ hands and bringing them out. There were two police cars and a blonde woman standing in front of the store, who looked instantly relieved to see the girls. (y/n) would have smiled at the woman’s face if she hadn’t remembered one stark detail.

The blonde woman was the exact same woman she had seen in her vision. Five years ago, (y/n) saw four people in her vision. Two of whom she had already met, Natasha and Peter, and this was the third. The blonde woman, with a kind smile. As soon as she stepped in front of her, the woman knelt down and hugged the brunette, while the little blonde girl ran to another woman at the side.

    “Morgan! Don’t ever do that again!” The woman scolded the girl, Morgan, and looked back at (y/n), causing her heart to flip.

Approaching her, (y/n) could feel her eyes widen and her heart rate increase. The woman smiled at her, before holding her hands in hers and thanking her repeatedly.

    “I hate how shootings have become so common, I just… Thank you so much.”

    “I…” She was breathless. “I didn’t do anything…” Her throat was suddenly very dry.

    “You should come home,” The woman said, “Tony was so worried, he’s going to be thrilled that you actually put up a fight to save the girls.”

(y/n) wanted to shake her head, but the woman insisted some more. Morgan grinned and held the girl’s hand before nodding once more.

    “I’m Ironman’s daughter.” She said, winking.

    “I don’t think Ironman would want you to go around saying that to strangers.” (y/n) said, holding Morgan’s hand in hers, smiling at her.

    “But you kicked that woman’s ass!” Morgan said, whispering.

(y/n) chuckled before following after Morgan’s mother, and sitting inside the car. She was definitely wealthy, but for some reason, (y/n) felt uncomfortable. She was just a random woman, with no relation to (y/n), so why did she see her in her vision? Peter too, it made no sense. She saw Natasha, and Natasha was the one who trained her; and her purpose was done. She saw Peter, but what purpose did Peter have to serve? What purpose did Morgan’s mother have to serve?

Ironman? So this is Tony Stark’s wife and daughter, (y/n) thought inside her head. Looking at Morgan, (y/n) grinned when the child smiled at her, watching her curiously.

    “What’s up, Morgan?”

    “What’s your name?” Morgan asked, tilting her head cutely.

Just as (y/n) was about to answer, Morgan’s mother’s phone rang.

    “Yes, Tony, she’s fine, we’re coming back now. I’m bringing the girl home too. There was this girl who stayed behind and helped Morgan out, inside. If it wasn’t for her, I don’t know what would have happened.”

(y/n) blushed. No one had spoken about her like that before, especially not in front of her. The drive to Tony Stark’s place actually didn’t take as long as she expected. What she liked about the area was how green it was, a small cabin, enough for a small family. Her heart warmed at the sight of Morgan running inside, causing her mother to look at (y/n) and smile.

    “You have very pretty eyes.” She said to (y/n), causing her to blush more.

You’re very beautiful, (y/n) thought internally, but didn’t say aloud. Once she was inside, she spotted the fourth and final person from her vision, staring right back at her, with an almost knowing expression. She blinked, wondering if he had recognized her somehow, but chose to keep quiet until he said something first. Strangely, she was not too surprised to spot him after having spotted Morgan’s mother. Tony Stark grinned widely at (y/n), and invariably, (y/n) felt at home.

    “So you’re the fighter girl,” Tony said, chirpily. “Have we met? I feel like we’ve met? Have I come to your school or something years ago?”

(y/n) let out a breath, feeling all too nervous. He had seen her? That wasn’t possible. She let out a chuckle, indicating that she was nervous.

    “Pepper, this calls for a nice dinner.”

    “P-Pepper?” (y/n) asked, feeling her heart rate accelerate.

The woman in question looked slightly embarrassed and said, “With all the commotion, I forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Virginia Potts, Tony calls me Pepper for short. What’s your name?”

All of a sudden, (y/n) understood. Her eyes widened all too slowly, but once they did, everything around her numbed. It numbed in sound, visuals and every other sensory function; she had finally understood. She slowly turned to the blonde woman, Pepper, her eyes still wide, but couldn’t hear a word anyone was saying. It was as if she was sinking in water, inaudible sounds came from Tony’s mouth.

Tony.

Pepper is linked to her father.

Turning to Tony, her eyes filled with tears, but she couldn’t blink them away in time. A stray tear trickled down her left cheek, her jaw opening slightly, the feeling in her fingers gone. Tony seemed to stop talking and was now just looking at her, and when Morgan grabbed her hand, every feeling came back, crashing into her like a tidal wave.

She almost gasped at the intensity.

    “You alright, kid?” She closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her forehead, and looked at Morgan, who was watching her cautiously.

Morgan is Tony Stark’s daughter.

And so was she.

Suddenly, she heard Peter’s voice. Peter was the only one in the vision whose purpose remained a mystery, with her having found out the reason for the other three. Peter’s voice lulled her into a reverie, a reverie that revealed more at that second if only she had paid attention.

Why is Tony Stark looking for you?

She felt her body suddenly shake, Pepper coming forward to help her but (y/n) put out an arm and shook her head. She felt the need to hide her face, she didn’t want Tony to see her, she didn’t want to be found; if there was anything that could stop her from becoming a God then it was him, sitting there on his living room couch, watching her with curious eyes.

He has a family, she thought, walking backwards. He doesn’t need more, he has a family, I’m not welcome, I can’t be, she thought, turning around and muttering a quiet apology. She rushed out, as awkward as it may have been, and made a run for it.

She may have been Tony Stark’s daughter, but he certainly wasn’t her dad.

❅

It was after a long time that Peter saw (y/n) on her roof again. He had made it a habit to go around her roof on most of his patrols, hoping to see her there sometime, training or reading or whatever that signified her. Ever since she was injured, she hadn’t come up to the roof at all, and even though he was glad she was resting and not overworking herself, he missed her there. He missed how the two of them would sometimes sit and talk about random things; he missed the silly details she would give him of animals and birds.

So that Saturday evening, he saw there on her roof, wiping away tears. His stomach flipped as he landed close to her, before going over to sit by her side. He removed his mask, since she knew his real identity.

    “Hey…” He said, thinking twice on whether or not to take her hand in his.

In the end, he didn’t go for it. However, when he saw her wipe the last bit of tears away, his heart broke. She turned to him, eyes still watery, and embraced him, placing her chin on his shoulder, and Peter’s arms wrapped around her naturally. He waited for her to say something because he knew she needed time to compose herself. Seeing her this vulnerable almost made him feel a little relieved, not because he liked what he saw but because she allowed herself to reveal her weak moment to him.

    “Hey…” She responded to his initial greeting, earning a smile from him.

They were quiet for a moment. Their breaths tackled each others’ and she didn’t meet his eyes. Peter wondered what would have happened if she did, his heart was in his throat, and several thoughts flew in his mind. He kept his gaze fixed at her, not looking away, not wanting to miss even the smallest of reactions that appeared on her face. She sniffed, before wiping away more tears, and blinked a couple of times, matching the fluttering of his heart.

    “Can I take you up on that offer?” She asked, her voice raspy.

Peter blinked, not following. She looked up at him now, her eyes meeting his, and he swore to all Gods that she was perhaps the best thing he had laid eyes on; all addictions made sense to him now that she was in his life. She, single-handedly, managed to take his breath away and Peter would willingly give her any that was left.

But, as if it was an afterthought, Peter understood what she was talking about.

    “Star Wars?” He whisper-yelled, excitedly.

When (y/n) giggled, he could feel himself masking his pride. Since when had making her laugh become something he could take deep pride in? She nodded and smiled at him, the corners of her eyes narrowing, and Peter smiled back, his heart warm, his life set.

    “Of course! Tonight?” (y/n) nodded, and it was then she realized it.

She didn’t move because she didn’t want it to change. Her face reddened at the thought. Her eyes darted down, cautiously, not wanting to move Peter’s hand that was now resting on hers. She smiled a soft smile before looking back at him, going on and on about something related to Star Wars.

That evening, after Peter’s Patrol, he came home with his laptop and a bunch of snacks. (y/n) blinked as she opened her window and let him inside, her room now suddenly cleaner than before. Peter looked around and smiled at the girl, before plopping himself on her bed. When she sat beside him, the two of them paused for a moment before looking at one another.

Their faces were inches apart, their shoulders touching. It was as if something invisible was pulling them to each other, a strange force in the air that was telling Peter to grab her and hold her and filling indecent thoughts in (y/n)’s mind. As if they had noticed this hesitation, both of them bolted. Clearing their throats, the two scurried aside and placed a billow between them, feeling heat rush to their cheeks.

    “I-I’m sorry,” Peter let out, which was followed by, “I-It’s alright,” from her.

    “What’s the first movie called?” She asked, wanting to change the topic.

    “A N-New Hope.” Peter said, coughing once more.

When the movie started to play, (y/n) was strangely excited. During her stay in New York, this was the first movie she was watching with a friend, and it filled her heart with a fuzzy feeling. Peter watched her as she watched the movie, a soft smile playing on his lips, finding everything she did amusing; she was so beautiful, she was so strong, and yet so mysterious; he knew nothing about her but he knew he liked her. He liked her, God, he couldn’t even begin to explain this feeling. Sure, he felt strongly for Liz Allen, but that was nowhere close to whatever this was.

Peter turned back to the movie and chuckled to himself at his not so new revelation.

The next day in school, neither of them tell Ned or MJ that they had binged all of the sequel movies the night before. To (y/n) and Peter, it was now a secret that they shared amongst themselves, which they communicated using secret smiles, which no one else had access to.

During lunch, MJ and (y/n) were having an animated conversation about democracy, something that (y/n) knew a lot about. Peter was holding his lunch tray, watching (y/n) talk as he approached them. Not aware of a stray piece of fruit was in front of him on the floor, Peter tripped, falling flat on the table MJ and (y/n) were sitting at, sending his food tray flying downwards. (y/n) stood up to help him, grabbing what could be eaten off the food tray before it hit the ground, holding Peter’s hand and helping him up.

    “Are you okay?” She asked, her face once again merely inches away from his, and Peter gulped. Just as he was about to stand, he slipped again, this time on absolutely nothing but his shyness.

Ned slapped his forehead before grabbing Peter by his bag and helping him up. Just as (y/n) sat back down, and MJ giving him a weird look, Ned turned to his friend and glared at him.

    “What was that?” Ned whisper-yelled.

    “I-I… I think I like (y/n)—”

    “You think? You’ve been ogling at her ever since you laid eyes on her, and you think you like her? Peter, get a grip.”

Peter was blushing harder than he ever had before.

❅

That evening, (y/n) was walking back home, thinking of watching the prequel movies by herself since Peter didn’t want to watch them. She liked this thing she had with Peter, when he was not being Spiderman; not that she ever wanted him to forgo his duties as a superhero. As if she were caught thinking of him, she stopped when Spiderman landed right in front of her. Her eyes were wide, but a smile broke out on her face.

    “Hi, Spidey.” (y/n) said, still walking. Spiderman accommodated and walked backwards, his face still facing her.

(y/n) squinted a bit before giggling once at what he was doing, before shaking her head, “What are you doing?”

Spiderman spread his hands to his side and said, “Why, I’m merely guiding a citizen home.”

(y/n) rolled her eyes. Peter’s heart almost stopped when she giggled again, at something he said, and found it oddly comforting that she knew he was Spiderman. And she wasn’t someone who needed to be protected too well, since she could hold her own rather well. Better than me, actually, he thought, albeit a bit proudly.

Suddenly, she stopped moving. Spiderman blinked and wondered what happened, noticing her carefree features suddenly turn into one of concentrated anger.

    “What’s wrong?” He asked, seriously.

    “It’s one of them.” She knew he didn’t have a clue of what she was talking about, but since Spiderman had saved her life from one of those creatures, she knew he picked up on her signal.

What she didn’t understand was what this creature was; the Boar was someone else entirely, and she had killed the Hyena and the Wolf. Who was this woman? And why did she not smell like the henchmen? Turning to her side, she spotted an old garbage disposal warehouse, and she knew that the woman was there. Turning to Spiderman, she nodded once before running toward the building, with him following right behind her.

She’s sneaky, (y/n) thought before entering the place. However, both Peter and (y/n) froze on the spot with who they saw in front of them. In the middle of the large warehouse sat Natasha Romanoff, tied up and gagged, looking at them with confusion. Beside Natasha stood the woman, pointing a gun at Nat’s head, smirking at the two of them. (y/n) had not seen Natasha in years, and seeing her like this after this gap caused her to feel nothing short of rage.

    “Black Widow?!” Peter exclaimed, clearly confused.

    “Peter,” (y/n) let out, “Pull that gun from her and free Natasha.”

Peter nodded and quickly used his webs to pull the gun from the woman, as (y/n) ran after her. Immediately going behind Natasha, Peter noticed how intricately the knots were tied, and he’d take a couple of minutes to free the woman. Meanwhile, (y/n) grabbed the green-eyed woman’s hand and twisted it behind her back, kicking her knee to the ground. The woman escaped briefly, before punching her, (y/n) caught her arm and kicked her in the chest, sending her backwards. As the two of them fought, (y/n) grabbed her dagger and turned it around her hand.

Natasha noticed the dagger and her suspicion was confirmed. This is (y/n), she thought as Peter struggled to free her. Natasha was foolish to have believed the woman when she looked helpless. The green eyed woman had come running to Natasha when she was going to get some coffee, and gestured to the building as if something had gone wrong. Falling into a trap like that, Natasha cursed at herself if nothing else.

(y/n) landed one more kick to the woman, before noticing how she was about to run again. But before she could make a run for it, Natasha grabbed the woman from the back and held her to (y/n). She nodded at (y/n) once and gestured for her to do it quickly. (y/n) held her dagger and approached her steadily.

Something then happened that scared (y/n). The green-eyed woman’s face morphed into something else—it was changing and both Peter and (y/n) looked at her with disgust. However, once this morphing ended, (y/n)’s eyes widened with fear.

There, staring right back at her, was the face of her mother, Artemis. No way, she thought, her grip on the dagger loosening. Tears filled her eyes as she almost forgot about who the woman was, it was as if she was suddenly in a daze, moving slowly toward what looked like her mother.

    “Do it, (y/n)!” Peter screamed, but she could not hear him.

She walked towards the woman Natasha was holding and held the dagger to her side. Her mother’s face was staring back at her, smiling now, teary eyed. Pressing her lips together, (y/n) felt tears run down her eyes as she shoved the dagger into the woman’s heart, closing her eyes a moment after. Once again, like the Wolf, she turned to absolutely nothing and eroded away.

Falling to her knees, (y/n) breathed before wiping the tears from her eyes. Natasha watched her, knowing full well that the face she had seen was that of her mother’s. Peter crouched beside the girl and held her, holding her in his arms, and she was holding him back.

Natasha knelt in front of her and listened.

    “That was… That was—”

    “Was that the face of your mother?”

Peter froze before looking at (y/n), who nodded weakly. Natasha placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder and looked down, feeling nothing but torment. Looking up at Peter, she cocked an eyebrow.

    “Not friends, huh?”

Peter immediately released the girl, earning a chuckle from both women. The three of them head to (y/n)’s house at her request; (y/n) was tired of keeping secrets from the both of them now, Peter had literally been there twice when a henchman or whatever that was attacked her, and Natasha killed a henchman five years ago. It was time, she realized, to spill the beans.

Natasha on the other hand was dying to tell the girl about Tony, but something told her that this wasn’t the right time. She would tell Tony where the girl lived, so that Pepper could come and talk to her, but today wasn’t it. As soon as they reach the girl’s house, Natasha makes herself comfortable on the couch, and Peter sat on the chair, making sure not to sit beside (y/n) in front of Natasha.

When (y/n) began explaining to them about who she was, Natasha wasn’t too shocked. Her teammate was a literal God, so this made sense; however, there was something else she noticed about (y/n) that she hadn’t noticed before. Narrowing her eyes, she saw ambition in the girl, and not the good kind. Something had changed massively, and the girl’s inherent curiosity was lost. Natasha wondered if the five years being on her own had done this to her, but she knew there was more to this eerie feeling than that.

A knock sounded on the door and in came Apollo, bandaged up. His gaze fell on Natasha and Peter, who sat wearing his spider suit but no mask. On seeing Apollo, he saw his English professor Alec, and froze up. He immediately stood up and put his hands in front of him in defense.

    “T-This is just a costume, p-professor!”

    “Professor?” Natasha asked, confused.

Apollo blinks and looks at his niece, who merely shrugged. A second later, Peter calmed.

    “Wait, what are you doing here?”

Apollo slapped his forehead.

    “He’s Apollo, Peter.”

Natasha chuckled at Peter’s cluelessness. However, when (y/n) continued her story, including the bit about Pepper, Peter paused.

    “Pepper, as in—”

    “Pepper Potts, yes. My father is Tony Stark.” (y/n) said, cleaning her dagger.

Natasha was most surprised about this. Narrowing her eyes cautiously, she turned to the girl, “You knew?”

    “Recently.” (y/n) didn’t want to go into detail about that meeting.

    “You came here looking for him. You should go meet him—”

    “What use is that to anyone?” (y/n) asked coldly.

Peter suddenly didn’t recognize her. He watched her, confused out of his mind and also shocked because she was Mr. Stark’s illegitimate daughter. He turned to Apollo, who was sitting on another chair, looking not too pleased either.

    “(y/n), you came here for him. You came to America to find your father, settle down and have a life. Getting away from a place like Olympus, it doesn’t make sense that you’re only trying to get back—”

    “Those things are not for me, Natasha.” (y/n) said, looking at her with a cold expression.

Peter narrowed his eyes, “What do you mean? Mr. Stark will be thrilled to—”

    “I’m a demigod, Peter. I’m going to become a God after I fulfil this prophecy, and when that happens, I won’t need Mr. Stark. I won’t need anything from the mortal world. I’m finishing things here because it’s a lot easier than going back to Olympus as a demigod.” (y/n) said, narrowing her eyes.

    “Y-You’re leaving?” Peter asked, feeling the back of his eyelids burn.

    “I have nothing here that can me stay.”

He pressed his lips together and frowned. He had never before found it hard to speak his mind when the time called for it, but right then, Peter was afraid. He was afraid to say a few words that perhaps might have made her change her mind. He was afraid to say, ‘What about me?’

❅

series taglist:

Those I could not tag, I’ve added your urls here!

@maddie-laufeyson​, @mscoloneldanvers​, @https://dancing-flame.tumblr.com, @daughter-of-stark​, @spider-mendes​, @nerdyandproudofitsstuff​, @someonekeepstakingmyusernames​, @alina-margaret​, @yourwonderbelle​, @viarogers​​, @https://huangsushii.tumblr.com, @eridanuswave​ @oliviaisnotlistening​ @mizpotatobiscuits​ @editsbyjenny​ @abbieroseb​ @justtrynagetthroughlife​ @secretlittlewonders​​ @missmulti​ @shallowshawnshallowshawn.tumblr.com  @eunoiametonia​ @adistiany​ @justletmesleeptillidie​ @ppunderoos​ @myheartonthemove​ @heir2chaos​ @honeybutterparker @truthdaze @mvmakki @-thatgirloverthere- @growingthornz @freddies-fried-chicken@jinxedleohttps://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/wrongyuckie@gogoca@kewl-r​ @death-by-viola​ @losersunitetonight​ @hungoverhellhound@ro2424@https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/blackkookiebunn@absmiles123 @fxckingfat@ludwigvonbaethoven @xbabykookiix @madds-lolo @uwukinawa @sunflowernightss​ @diamonddia-mond @5knee​

[catchlalune]

Tape 124: Jingshen

In part 1 of my series of wips I’ll never finish is the whole reason I made this blog! I started this fic as something that I wanted all my fics on this particular blog to encapsulate. I know this isn’t the style I work in now but I really wanted to go for a style that was really more fantasy. I thought there wouldn’t be a better day to release this than on my birthday so here we go! I also really want to thank @sichengforthewinwin for the fanart she made which was so sweet and amazing! Please keep in mind it is not finished, it was about 85% done and if you’d like to know how I was going to end it feel free to message me! 

Pairing: Reader x Luhan

Warnings: Angst, gore (poor kitty dies), supernatural themes\

Word count: 4k (4,042)

Luhan is it you watching this? If you’re watching this then you know that I am dead. At the time that I’m recording this I don’t know the reason why, but I know that I will die soon. You always told me that even though I was psychic and could see the future, I should live in the present. I’m trying to you know? Anyways, I wanted to record this because I’m not very good at saying that I love you and I want you to know that I love you very much - I just can’t say it. I want to; I want to so bad that it hurts, but every time I muster up the courage I get so tongue tied that I can’t let it out...but that’s not the point of this tape. I want to tell you about my feelings for you since the first day we met, is it too much? If it is you don’t need to watch it, but whether you do or don’t I figure someone should know. My therapist said this is a good way to organize my thoughts and feelings so I trust her. Right now as I start this it’s only Day 78, let’s try to make it to Day 365 okay?

Video 1:

I remember like it was yesterday because it was so cold and the thunder was raging on from the moment I woke up that morning. There was a flood warning on the TV channels and radio stations, and they advised everyone to stay in their houses. So you can imagine my surprise when I heard pounding on my door. It was so loud it startled Luna out of her sleep. You remember Luna, right? The all black cat with purple eyes. You never believed they were purple and we would always argue over the color. Anyway, when I opened the door you stood there with hair that was pink like cotton candy. I remember thinking how strange it was, why would someone want to dye their hair pink? And of all the pink colors why that pink? Then I realized that your hair was sticking to your forehead and dripping. Not just your hair but your clothing as well, a dark brown trench coat, light wash jeans with rips in them, and a white shirt underneath all drenched down to the matching brown boots you wore. I was so shocked I stepped back and you smiled sheepishly. I think you thought I wasn’t going to answer the door for you which I probably shouldn’t have. But there you were in front of me drenched but beautiful and your lips were moving before I had time to contemplate anything else.

“Are you the 精神的 ?” I remember you asking me in such a soft voice that I had to really think about it. But you continued on thinking I couldn’t understand you.

“Psychic? Are you psychic?” Your English startled me, I wasn’t used to anyone under thirty years old coming to speak to me and most of them didn’t know much English. I couldn’t do much but nod my head. 

“I want to ask you a question.” You spoke to me in earnest and I had forgotten that you were drenched from head to toe and still standing out in the downpour on my doorstep. 

“P-Please come in, I’ll get you a towel.” I remember stepping to the side so you could come in and I heard the squish of your socks in your boots. “I’ll bring you clothes too.” I said before walking down the hall, and all I heard in return was a quiet thank you.

After you were dried off and our bellies were full of oolong tea you decided to tell me why you had come. I had already suspected it was due to your career since there was no ring on your finger and if it was familial issues why come to a psychic who had no real backing but her word? That day you talked so long that the beat of the raindrops on my roof seemed to blend in with your soft words. Soft and gentle but not lacking in appeal, your voice is so silvery that when I first heard it and I mean really heard it I felt a warmth in my chest that sat there and bloomed as you went more in depth about your troubles. Honestly I don’t believe that you ever needed me, I think you just needed someone to talk to that would give you advice and I know you realized this halfway through our conversation when your eyes brightened but I am very glad that you came back to me. Do you remember what I said to you the first day we met? I remember the solemn expression when I said those words to you.

“In the future I see you losing someone you hold dear of unnatural causes. There will be no warning, they will simply be there and then gone like the wind.” 

If only I had known. 

Video 2: 

The second day we met was a week after our first encounter and you came to me with the clothes you borrowed washed but smelling so much like you they made my knees weak. You had also brought Gong Bao Chicken, the smell of the roasted peanuts and the sauce made my stomach growl and you laughed at my bashful expression. Our meal was full of soft stifled giggles, shy glances, and repressed smiles. I thought you would leave after we finished but to my surprise you stayed even after the table was cleared and the tea was long gone. You must have noticed my confusion because you looked at me and smiled so brightly my heart thrummed in my chest. 

“I left without thanking you the last time.” You stood so abruptly I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights. But you bowed a perfect ninety degree angle and it made me smile. 

“There is no need to thank me. You came for a psychic and I did my job.” When straightening you had a slight frown on your face and I wondered what I had said that was so wrong to you. 

“You did more than what I asked of you. You listened to me even though that was not in your job description and that is what I want to thank you for.” Your voice wavered and there was a light pink dusted upon your cheeks that was almost the color of your hair. I remember thinking was that all?

“There’s no need to thank me. I like helping people, even if they are strange men that bang on my door at six in the morning while a flood warning is flashing on the tv screen and they scare my cat.” It seemed Luna was listening because the moment I mentioned her she brushed up against your legs and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh so hard. I wasn’t sure if it was what I said or the way Luna nuzzled into you or even the fact that the situation was a bit ridiculous. 

That day you asked me so many questions about my powers, how different psychic’s could help, when you could tell if they were fake or not, did I have any ties to spirits or witches or anything magical. I remember seeing the stars in your eyes as I answered every question, you listened so much more attentively than I remember anyone ever listening to me. In the middle of my explanation about crystal balls I raised my arm to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and I saw the look in your eyes when you saw the tattooed sigil on my arm. You wanted to ask about it but I’m grateful that you decided to leave it up to me to decide if you were ready to hear the explanation or not.  

Luna curled up on your lap as soon as you sat down and she was fast asleep as the sun dwindled on the horizon, it was one of the most beautiful sunsets I got to watch with you in perfect comfortable silence. The only sounds being Luna’s soft purrs, the wind chimes hanging over my doorstep, and the train in the distance. I don’t know when I closed my eyes or when I laid my head on the table or when I drifted to sleep but I awoke with the blanket I kept on the couch draped around my shoulders and Luna licking my hand.

How long had you stayed that night? Did you watch over me?

Video 3:

The next time we met there was no intention from either of us. Of course I had a strong gut feeling that I would see you that day but it wasn’t my intention. I was content with the cute but timid cotton candy haired man that covered me in a blanket and told me his life story over tea that I got to meet. It had been nearly three months and I figured you’d forgotten who I was, but that gut feeling was spot on. You ran right into me and I almost didn’t recognize you because your hair was a pretty bleached blond color, you were so frazzled I don’t think you realized it was me that you ran into. The train whistled and that was the signal to get on before you had to wait an hour for the next one. I was on my way out of Beijing and I was sure that you had just gotten off the train into Beijing but then you quickly bowed and got on my train. I didn’t want it to seem like I was following so I went in a different car but again there you were not even three seats down from me with a pretty girl on your arm. She laughed at things you said that weren’t funny and I could tell that by the look in your eyes you weren’t comfortable with her. I had to hold my contempt for her back as you looked at me and smiled as if you’d found everything that was right in the universe. You quickly switched your seat to the one next to me and the feeling of relief that you felt washed over me too. 

For a while all we did was watch the trees pass by and enjoy the presence of one another, but then you dozed off on my shoulder. At first I was going to shake you awake but then I looked down at your bleached head bobbing and a warm feeling that started in my chest bloomed all over. So instead I tried to preoccupy myself with looking out the window again but as soon as I looked up I saw the woman that was flirting with you earlier staring intently at me with what I could only call envy, it felt good to know that this beautiful woman that was probably sought after by many men and women alike was looking at me like that. 

It was another thirty minutes before the train stopped at our destination and I gently shook you, you woke up instantly but you were groggy and blinked up at me with the most innocent expression. What kind of grown man makes that expression to a woman he barely knows unintentionally? Were you trying to make my heart explode? 

We got up and said our goodbyes on the train tracks with the pretty woman from before stuck to your side. You didn’t seem to notice her even when you turned and walked away dragging your briefcase with you. It probably wasn’t as funny as I thought it was giggling to myself and smiling so wide some people looked at me funny. 

Should I be ashamed of feeling that way? I always wanted to say it was because you didn’t really want to give her the time of day and she clearly didn’t care about what you wanted unless it was her. Maybe I’m being a bit much? It’s not like me to get so worked up but I hadn’t even formally met the woman and she already was proving to be a threat to me. Not because you liked her but because she liked you and she was entitled and always got what she wanted.

How do I know?

Because I’m a psychic.

Video 27: 

I'll remember this day for the rest of my life and even after. This was the day that Luna got lost, you remember that right? It was also the day my premonitions started.

 It was raining almost as hard as the day we first met-all our really important dates seem to be on rainy days, I wonder if we were ever to get married if it would also rain-and I was frantic. You almost hit me with your car, you got out to yell not even realizing it was me because this time I was drenched in nothing but my house clothes with no shoes or even a jacket over my shoulders. I was about two blocks away from my house on a quiet side street and if I had mind to I would've wondered why you drove your car down it. When you got out the car you looked at me through the pelting rain and instantly pulled me into a hug.. 

You were so warm and I felt so small in your arms. I remember you taking your trench coat off and putting it around me as if it could shelter me from the rain that was already seeping into my clothes and skin. You took me by surprise when you picked me up and sat me in the passenger seat of your car. You laid a warm kiss on my forehead and I was confused because you seemed so timid to me all other times I didn't think you really cared about my well being, or you did but just in a friendly sort of way. It was a short drive to my house not even three minutes long, you carried me inside sat me down in my bathroom and drew me a bath with ginger salts all without so much as a word. I don't remember when I started crying, if it was when I was out in the rain, when you embraced me, when you sat me in the car or even when you helped me into the bath. I was grateful for your gentleness and chastity as you turned when I started to shed my clothing.

 If it weren't for the strange but cute man with the pink hair which was bleach blond but now brown that shared his story with me whom I came to care deeply about I don't know where I would be or if I would even be alive right now. I wish I could thank you everyday for the bath and the heated towels and the warm tea that you made. Or for the company and compassion you showed as I cried on your shoulder with a hand clutched to my chest. You didn't show any pity or disgust but sympathy and I swear it was the tenderness with which you tucked me into my bed and promised me that you always be there for me that I swore I would love you until my last breath. I swore to myself that I would love you and hold you dear to my heart until my dying day. And I have not for a second had a thought of breaking this promise to myself. 

That night I had a dream that I was doing a math problem and when I finally finished the answer was a picture of Luna with x’s over her eyes and throat. When I awoke kicking and screaming and crying you didn’t seem the least bit surprised, you simply held me and again let me soak your shirt with tears. You started to sing to me some time after that and it was so beautiful. Your voice soothed my pain with every last intonation. I was in and out of consciousness the entire night and every single time I awoke you were there to offer solace and wipe at my tears with your thumbs. The next morning I awoke to the scent of ginger tea and bāozi. Padding into the kitchen I could tell by the way they looked that the steamed buns were stuffed with something sweet. I thanked you as you handed me a cup of hot tea and pulled a chair out for me to sit in just so you could push it in for me. I couldn’t bring myself to tell you about all the nightmares I had but I knew that you knew and I suppose I was okay with that. 

Video 38: 

The day that Luna returned to us was dark and gloomy as most days we met and the clouds were swollen with water that they were more than willing to shed. You’d spent every night with me since Luna got lost and I was just starting to get over the pain of losing my best friend. There was a strong wind and it made my wind chimes rattle against the door, it was so forceful that you thought someone was knocking adamantly so you went to answer it. I will never forget the look that was a mixture of fear, anguish, and confusion when you turned to look back at me with a box no larger than one made for shoes that was stained black and you had the black substance all over your hands and you quickly flung the box away from your body to slam the door shut so hard the walls shook and some of my talismans fell. 

I stood up to cross the room despite your many protests because you looked so much like a deer caught in headlights and I wanted so badly to understand and ease the pain. Little did I know that the black substance on you wasn’t really black but was a deep red, looking at you with your hands covered in it made my heart leap into my throat. I knew opening the door despite your protests would only bring me immense pain but I knew it was Luna and I knew I needed to face this. I was not ready for what I saw. 

The box was soaked in blood and Luna’s corpse was in a heap exposed from the force with which you flung it away. There was so much blood and I know I screamed and you tried to pull me back into my house, back into your arms for shelter but I felt the stickiness of her blood on your hands as you grabbed my arms and I panicked. Who would do such a thing? I remembered thinking over and over again as I hit the ground and foolishly crawled to her. I wanted to pick her up but there were maggots all over her and I choked at the smell. You again tried to pull me into your arms but I pushed at you so you sat next to me and let me sob on my porch in the middle of the day with the rain pouring down on us. It was so hard and thick it came down like a white sheet and I couldn’t see anything else in front of me except for Luna. It seemed this was my punishment for something I did in a past life because all I could do was stare at her as the maggots wormed their way through her once thick and shiny black fur that was now thin and greyish as well as the hole in her neck. Someone had intentionally stolen my cat and returned her to me dead and decaying. 

Video 52;

This was the day we had our first official date, do you remember? Well I suppose it wasn’t really official because when I got to the fancy restaurant there you stood with that pretty woman on your arm wearing a dazzling red dress that made me feel so boring in my blue one with matching suede shoes, she even curled her hair loosely and drew on pretty eyeliner to enhance her monolids and cherry red lip gloss- not lipstick- to bring out the paleness of her face; but it still made me feel giddy and my heart soared because I felt as if we became distant lately.

 In reality it seemed as though I was third wheeling as you and the woman whose name was Sunei pronounced as Sunny but spelt S-u-n-e-i she made this very clear to everyone especially our poor waitress. The two of you laughed and chatted while I sipped on my glass of water with shaking hands and smiled sheepishly. The countless times our waitress came to our table she always gave me a sympathetic look as if I were the one being wronged and I suppose in a way I was. I guess she could see from wherever she was that my feet and legs were constantly being kicked and stomped on by Sunei, the one time you got up to use the bathroom she looked like she was about to reach across the table and smack me. I’m sure the defiant look in my eyes was enough to make her do so but there the waitress was again, she stayed and spoke to me until you came back and then she flitted away. Thinking back on it I wish I kept in touch with her, she was so gracious to me that night.

I was surprised when you sat down and started asking me questions, I was okay with little to no attention but when you turned your eyes to me it felt like every single prying eye in the restaurant was on me and it made my palms a bit sweaty. 

“...I think it looks nice! Personally it's one of my favorite paintings a client of ours has ever submitted. What do you think? We aren't supposed to share these things until the gallery is open but I think you'll appreciate it.” You turned your phone to me and I swear my heart stopped beating when I first laid eyes on that magnificent painting. I was speechless at how someone could make something so elaborate yet abstract, so beautiful but so terribly sad. 

“Why would you show it to them Luhan ?! You'd risk your job and for wh-” 

“I think that's quite enough Ms. Xiu. And that's Mr. Xiao to you we're business partners yes, but not much more than that.” Sunei drew back and I almost felt bad for her.

The rest of dinner was quiet and rather stifling if you ask me but you graciously paid for all of us and you opened the car door for me asking me to wait, that it would only be a moment. 

*** 

“Do you love me?” you whispered it upon my lips on my doorstep after a very long night. Never before had I been uncomfortable under your gaze but there you were looking at me intently and I felt as though I was being stripped naked and pinned on a bulletin board for everyone to see. It was hot and my skin itched but not the kind that scratching would get rid of. My throat closed and I wanted to leave, I wanted to get up and flee. But where to? I had nowhere to go if it wasn't with you. And then you smiled at me , a real genuine smile and I felt the entire world crashing on my shoulders. 

 “It's okay, you don't need to answer.” 

It wasn't really ok though. 

That night I had a dream of you and I. We were on a vacation on some desolate island and we took a walk. We hadn’t exchanged any words but we walked along the path you leading the way and I followed quickly behind defeated like a dog with it’s tail tucked between its legs.

[rk850-fang]

Echo

[All Eyes on Me verse. Content Warning: Robot gore, gaslighting, anxiety attack, implied suicide]

A small room filled with stacked desks and chair stood silently in the expansive Cyberlife Facility. It was dark except for the red light of an LED that shone from underneath a covered table. Hunched over with her head in her palms was RK850. She stared at the tiles beneath her with a wide but unseeing hazel gaze. Drips of blue entered her vision and splattered onto the white floor.

There was a large wound on her head in the centre of her forehead. The odd spark would come from it and the deepness signalling that she would not stay activated for much longer. Thirium leaked from it in large streams, running down her face and staining her hands.

Her stupid, stupid hands!

With her claws for nails, she continued to dig at the wound on her forehead, pulling out wires and picking off plates whereever she could.

[Stress Level 32%]

“My dear?” Legato’s voice echoed in the small room. Light poured in from where he stood in the doorway, illuminating his form in an intimidating stance. “Lord Fang. What happened?” He shut the door partially to follow the red light, kneeling down to peer at the hidden android.

“I didn’t do it...” She whispered huskily. “He’s lying...”

Sighing, the portly man sat on his legs and held out a hand to her. “Give me your hand.” She obligated. “There’s damage to your wrists, Fang. Please don’t lie to me. I’m your father, after all.” He tried to give her a friendly smile, but at his words she snatched her hand back and held it to her chest.

[Stress Level 45%]

“I really didn’t! I’m not lying!” She insisted. 

“This is very unusual behaviour, even from you. What’s wrong with your system?”

“I... My systems detect fatal damage to my head. I will shut down in five minutes.” The little bot curled in on herself, blonde hair loose as it fell around her face, sticking to the blood on it. “I really didn’t... He...”

“Tell me, Fang.”

“We were dancing, enjoying the party. He wanted to get away from the prying eyes of the adults so we went on the balcony.”

“Go on.” He pressed on despite the android’s anxiety.

“He said I was beautiful. He wanted to kiss him, but I...” Ann-Fangk looked away from her master’s prying gaze. 

“Continue, please.” She refused. “Lord Fang, continue with your witness report.” She couldn’t. “Continue!” Legato slammed a fist into the table leg, causing the whole thing to shake violently above her.

[Stress Level 68%]

“My systems told me to refuse so I did!” She shouted back, her voice gaining a strained gurgle. “I tried to leave but he insisted, so I pushed him! I-I didn’t mean to, I swear I-I-I--” RK850 grasped her head in her hands, a strange pressure in her very mind itself. “He fell over the wall... I-I caught him by the wrist but I’m not s-s-s-strong enough. Both our wr-wr-wrists were damaged b-but I pulled him up. I saved him!”

The scientist set a heavy stare on the android, his green eyes troubled at the report. Why would her systems refuse like that? Was this that strange behaviour that Kamski had detected in her programming when she was first activated? Perhaps he should have tried better to make sure her coding was free of any glitches or... unwanted developments. 

He sighed.

Of course his spur-of-the-moment creation would end up like this. How typical. “Suppose it’s time to cut my losses.” He mumbled to himself, watching the pool of blue blood grow. “Fang, you caused damage to a human. That’s a very serious crime.” 

Her eyes widened. “What? But I did so to save him! H-H-He-ee-e--” Her hands shook as she gripped her head. Eyes closing as a great weight settling on her as if she was being crashed from the inside out. “He-he attacked me f-f-f-irst”

“No he didn’t. You’re an android, Fang. The life and desire of a human’s will always be above your’s.” He stated clearly as if speaking to a child. He reached out a hand to her. “Now come on, I think it’s time to deactivate you.” Then he muttered, “I was getting tired of this experiment anyway.”

Her audio systems picked up the last sentence, her eyes widening in shock. She was... unwanted? She was wrong? An experiment? A mistake? She was a criminal for defending herself?

[Stress Level 99%]

RK850 flinched away from his outstretched hand, staring behind him at a red wall that filled her vision.

I̩͝t͏̦͎̫'̖͈͖̩̗̝s̲ ̠n̪͕o̗̝̝͚͎͝t҉ ̣͓͇̭f̠̤̼̳̞a̹̗̫̰͚̼i͏̻̘͓̳̺̮̙r̸̭̻͍͓̘̟                          I̱̲͇ ̯̭̻̰̣̦͟d͜i̵̪̙d̜ ̷̭͓̠͉ͅn̥͉o̵̦̘̳͕̠̣̝t̯̲̗h͚̤͎͈̤ͅi͈̜̹n̩̹͍g̫̖͍̺ͅ ̼̞w̧̪̼͓̹̲ͅr̻͉o̜̠̼̹n̲̱ǵ̠̙̗̲̗̗ ̶̣̭͇̻̻ͅU͓͖̜͈n̩̜ͅw̘̥̗̹̺̗a̱̬n̩͙͙̮͉ͅt̩̱͈̬͚e͔d̦ͅ?̝̱͔ ̥̱̬̯̪͞                                                   Y̖͚̼͕̝ͅo̳̩͉͇̳͈ṷ̼̰̖͔͚̼r̙̼̞̳͕͜ͅ ̮͜s̤͕͚͘ͅt̟̫͓̱͠a̷͙̤̥̙̩ͅg̞̕e̷͓͔͉̼̜̲̖ ͏̘̰̩ͅͅḩ͉̲a̴͕̬͉s ̲̳̹͢c͚͙̦̱̲͎ol͈͔̳͘l̗̮̗͘a̡̻͈̼̳p̘͈̣͡s̮͇͡e̡̼̠̘͍͚d ̥̯��̯̞̘͇                          D̨į͓̣̣sòb̭̻̱̟̲͓ͅȩy̳̰̱̳̯͓̥  ̱̣̬              L̼̬̝̩̲̣͓͝i͕̙̭͕̞͘v̶͉̟e҉ ͓̬̫͝L͚į͍͕̼ͅv̠͔̼̜ȩ̤̥̞̦ ͚̫̗͎̭̜͖                                        L̩͡I̠̙̯̟̕V̭͇E͖̳̣̼ ̡̬ Deviant (X)?

                                                   Deviant  

Her themo pump pulsed in time as the silhouette of her mind pounded against the red barrier that laid between her and escape, destroying each of the words that plagued her anxious mind. As she burst through the final wall, reality returned to her as she violently back-handed Legato’s hand away.

“No!” She cried, tears streaming down her face. “I matter to, Legato! I want to live, I want to entertain people not for my programming but myself!” A shuddering breath was took. “I just want to make people happy. The world’s already so cruel, why must you make it worse?”

Her accusing tone and fierce emotion in her eyes sent the man into a state of shock. What was this? This behaviour, this emotion, this... will to live? Slowly he withdrew his hand, rubbing the redness with his other. Her LED was blinking red, it had been for the past minute. 

Time was almost up.

“Lord Fang...” He whispered in awe at his creation. “You deserve to live.”

“I don’t want to die forever... Legato... Father please...” She whispered. Her energy was leaving her now, the flow of thirium slowing as her themo pump quieted it’s movements. 

“I’ll bring you back. Don’t you worry now.” He assured her, previous crimes forgotten in the light of this new era. He had to study her systems, find the cause of this disobedience and quell it. But for now... “I’ll have a new body made. Do you have any requests?” He asked, curiosity eating at him.

“Red...” She whispered, her voice distorted.

“Red?” The man shuffled forward to hear her better.

“Red hair... I saw a woman at the party with it... It’s so... p-p-p-prettyyy....” Fangk’s head lulled to the side, her LED going dark. She was gone.

For now that is.

[oforoddette]

Widowmaker’s Secrect

After years of planning, Widowmaker finally is going to achieve her dream and she might get a little bit of help with it too!

   “Remember the deal Sombra.”

   “I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” Sombra sighed. “Man, I’m not going to do favors for you anymore. You’re demanding.”

   “Oh like I should trust you. I’ve been waiting for this day for years, and I am not letting anyone find out about it.”

   “Okay, okay! Calm down Amélie,” Sombra said. “I swear I won’t tell anyone. Besides, you have dirt on me now.”        “That’s right,” Widowmaker aka Amélie grinned. “That reminds me, here you go.”

   Widowmaker tossed a ratty, stuffed rhino to Sombra who caught it.

   “Ah, Roddy! Are you okay?” Sombra asked.

Amélie just rolled her eyes before heading off. Once she got to her room in the Talon headquarters, she locked the doors. Then she changed the passcode that allowed people in. Once that was done, she unplugged the door’s opening mechanism. There was no way she was letting anyone in this weekend. After years of planning, today was her day to let go. She removed her helmet and then gazed around her room.

   Eclairs.

   Nothing but freshly baked eclairs as far as the eye could see. They covered the table, the counters, everything. It was the most beautiful thing Amélie had ever seen. A smile crept on her face as she slipped off her shoes.

   “I can’t believe it,” She said. “Finally, I can eat myself into a coma!”

   It was a weird dream of Amélie’s. All her life she had wanted to gorge herself. There was a word for it: feederism. Maybe it was because she had always been skinny and wanted to know what it would feel like to be big. There was also the fact that Amélie loved eclairs. They were her favorite food. Not many people knew that. Sombra did, but Sombra knew just about everything.

   Amélie decided to waste no time. Quickly as she could, she changed into some sweatpants and a crop top. Then, she started eating the eclairs. They tasted like heaven. The pastry was perfectly puffy, the cream was sweet, and the chocolate icing was perfect. She was going to enjoy every single moment of this. And she deserved it. Amélie worked hard. She worked extremely hard. A lot of people thought she was just a pretty face, but she was more than that. She was dedicated to her work and also was resourceful. She rarely gave herself any type of break or reward for being so dedicated.

   Now she was.

   So Amélie ate. She did a few things around her room like filing, checking her email, making a grocery list and other normal things. Whenever she finished an eclair, she grabbed another one. It was only after eclair number thirty did she stop.

   “Hm. I’m a bit thirsty,” Amélie said. “Good thing I’m prepared.”

   She ate eclair thirty-one before going to her secret cabinet. She threw it opened and was greeted by another lovely sight.

   Wine.

   A cabinet was full of nothing but wine. Another one of Amélie’s favorite things. While she wasn’t a huge drinker, she did enjoy wine. Her collection came from all over the world as well. She was a person who enjoyed variety. Taking one of the bottles, she brought it over to her kitchen. She uncorked it before filling up a glass.

   “Now, where was I?” She asked herself.

   Amélie resumed her binging. An hour past before she had run out of wine. This was also the point where she recognized her body had gone through changes. Her waist, which had always been smooth and trim, was now doughy. Amélie stared at it before running a hand over her belly.

   “Mhm,” She said. “I think--I think I might like this.”

   It felt nice. There was no other way to really explain it. Something about this small, round belly felt fantastic. With a grin, Amélie grabbed another bottle of wine and resumed her gluttony.

   Hour after hour, Amélie did nothing but eat and drink. The more she swallowed, the freer she felt. This whole thing was utterly fantastic. Never in her whole entire life had Amélie felt like this. The more she ate, the bigger she became, and she loved it! After eating for five solid hours, Amélie sat down on her couch. It creaked under her new weight.

   “Hic!” Amélie looked at her gut. “Oh my god! It’s *hic* beautiful!”

   Amélie’s belly was huge. It was bigger than her flatscreen TV. Sighing happily, Amélie rubbed her bloated gut. It gurgled, it sloshed, and it was the most beautiful thing in the world. Amélie stood up, wobbling slightly due to her drunken state and her new gut.

   “Hic! C’mon belly,” Amélie said. “I want to *hic* see how *hic* much I *hic* weigh now.”

   Amélie managed to get into the bathroom, and she stepped on her scale.

   “You have gained three hundred pounds.” The electronic weight said.

   “Oh, that’s *hic* amazing!” Amélie grinned. “Oh but surely *hic* I can get bigger.”

   And that is what Amélie decided to do.

   All she did was eat. As the day went on, the larger she became. She was in heaven. It was so wonderful being fat! Why hadn’t she done this before? If only she had known! Also, drinking tons of wine was fun too! Wait until Sombra saw her!

   “Urpppppppp!” Amélie sat back down on her couch. “Hic! I’m *hic* so *hic* big!”

   She was. Amélie gut was so big it was pinning her down. Amélie rubbed her huge belly, enjoying the feeling of being full. Yet she wanted more.

   “I’m not *hic* satisfied!” She grunted. “Oh but *hic* I’m not sure if I can *hic* get up!”

   “I can help with that.”

   Amélie looked around, wondering where the voice had come from. Then, Sombra appeared before her, sitting on her belly.

   “Sombra? How did *hic* you get *hic* in here?” Amélie asked.    “I have my ways. I wanted to check on you, make sure you were okay,” Sombra caught Amélie’s shocked look. “What? I’m not heartless you know. I consider you a friend Amélie.”

   “Really? I’m your *hic* friend?”

   “Yeah. We’ve worked together for years,” Sombra said. “I would hope we’d be friends. I know I give you grief, but you’re the only person I trust around here.”

   “Oh, Sombra! That is *hic* the nicest *hic* thing anyone has *hic* ever said to me.”

   “Don’t let that get out though. I have a reputation to maintain,” Sombra looked down at Amélie’s belly. “Wow, you really weren’t kidding about the fat thing were you?”

   “Isn’t it *hic* beautiful?” Amélie said with pride. “Sombra, I’ve *hic* honestly never *hic* felt this good in *hic* all my life! I love *hic* it. I love being *hic* fat!”

   “Yeah, I could tell,” Sombra said. “I was here for about thirty minutes before I said anything. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

   “You *hic* don’t think it’s *hic* weird?”

   “Not really. I’ve seen weirder,” Sombra laid down on the distended gut. “So from what you’ve said, you’re still hungry right?”

   “Yes. I haven’t *hic* finished *hic* all my *hic* eclairs!”

   “How many did you buy?”

   “I only ordered *hic* one hundred *hic* boxes.”

   “Only one hundred?” Sombra raised an eyebrow. “Okay, since you’re enjoying yourself, I’m going to help you.”

   “Really? You’d *hic* do that *hic* for me?”

   “What are friends for?”

   Amélie couldn’t believe she honestly had a friend. If she wasn’t so stuffed, she might have shed a tear. She was going to have to do something nice for Sombra to pay her back for all of this. Sombra slid off Amélie’s belly and then picked up an eclair. Amélie opened up her mouth and let herself be fed. Never in a million years did she think she would feel this great. It was like she was in her own fattening paradise. While she was fed, Amélie kept her eyes on Sombra. She didn’t know if it was the wine or the lighting, but she realized something. Sombra was gorgeous. She felt herself blush as Sombra continued to feed her. Her bulging stomach continued to grow as the hours passed. Sombra gave Amélie a few more drinks of wine but then said she it would be best to save some for later.

   “You don’t want to go through your collection do you?” Sombra asked.

   Amélie had to agree. As her drunken stupor wore off, Amélie began to think. After a bit more thinking, she looked straight at Sombra.

   “Sombra?” Amélie began. “Can you do me a tiny favor?”

   “Yes?”

   “Kiss me.”

   “What?”

   “Kiss me. P--please.”

   Sombra stared at Amélie, wondering if the woman was still drunk. Amélie bit her lip, her face turning slightly darker as she blushed. Sombra grinned as she leaned forward and kissed Amélie on the lips. She lingered there, feeling Amélie deepen the kiss slightly. Sombra only pulled back so she could breathe.

   “I’m sorry,” Amélie was still blushing. “I---I just feel so good and you feeding me was so wonderful. I then noticed how beautiful you are.”

   “I cannot believe I’m saying this,” Sombra said. “But I’ve been enjoying this. I don’t know what it is but seeing you are all bloated? It’s adorable! Look at you if you big, wobbling belly.”

   Sombra started rubbing Amélie’s stomach. Amélie’s blush got worse. Sombra’s fingers over her stretched skin felt amazing. Her plump stomach was beyond huge. Amélie knew there was no way she would be able to walk in the morning. The idea appealed to her honestly. Even though she was no longer drunk, she still loved being huge.    “And you’ve even gotten some nice, meaty thighs!” Sombra commented.

   Amélie looked down and was surprised to find her sweatpants had ripped slightly. Her legs were extremely thick now. Sombra ran a hand down Amélie’s leg, making the other woman blush even more.

   “God Amélie,” Sombra looked up at the sniper. “You look great. Who’s a little piggy?”

   “Me,” Amélie said. “I’m a little piggy.”

   “And does the piggy want to get bigger?” Sombra asked.

   Bigger.

   Amélie could picture it all. Goring herself, every single day with delicious, fattening foods and chugging massive amounts of wine. Her stomach growing, becoming so big she would break the couch and possibly the floor. Being fed, getting belly rubs and not having a care in the world. She wanted it. She wanted it all.

   “Y-yes,” Amélie answered. “I want to be bigger.”

   “Hm,” Sombra’s fingers glided over Amélie’s stomach. “I don’t know.”

   “P--please Sombra,” Amélie begged. “I want to get bigger. I need to get bigger. This is all I’ve ever wanted. And--I need your help.”

   “It’s hard to say no to that face,” Sombra patted Amélie’s nose. “I’ll help you as long as you remain my fat, greedy, little piggy. Got it?”

   “Yes,” Amélie nodded. “Thank you. For everything. I’ve never felt this amazing before.”

   “Well, I’m happy to help you,” Sombra crawled onto Amélie’s belly again. “It’s getting a bit late. I think we should stop for now.”

   “Do we have too?”

   “Oh my bloated beauty, don’t pout,” Sombra cooed. “You still need to sleep. In the morning, I’ll treat you to breakfast.”

   “Okay,” Amélie relented. “Goodnight Sombra.”

   “Goodnight Amélie.”    

[a-broader-sensibility-blog]

Music for Radfems

A lot of people enjoyed the resource post I did on radical feminist literature, so I thought I would come back and do a second resource list, but this time for radfem music! Not all of these songs are specifically radical feminist, but I deliberately exclude artists that like to “reclaim slurs” or sing about how sexy they are or how they’re empowered because they’re different from other girls. I also stay away from the YAS, QUEEN/slay/goddess type music about how women are so amazing because they’re beautiful and glamorous. Also, some of the artists on this list are not people who identify themselves or their music as explicitly feminist, but I find feminist threads in how they make music and in their lyrics, in particular. This list is not exhaustive or necessarily as diverse as it should be; it’s just composed of some artists and songs that I personally have enjoyed.

Just some background info: I absolutely love making playlists (of all types) and I’ve made a number of playlists with feminist themes but this list is not a playlist, but more of a directory. If you end up discovering any songs or artist you love from this list, please let me know and share your own radfem playlists.

P.S. Bikini Kill is left out because everyone already knows Bikini Kill.

Artists

Ani Difranco

Ani has made a ton of powerful music with explicitly feminist themes, as well as devoting her life to activism . Also, she STARTED HER FUCKING RECORD LABEL AT THE AGE OF 18, LIKE IF YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT “INDIE” MUSIC, THIS IS IT. Her music is also really beautiful, just in terms of unexpected rhythms and guitar riffs and yeah, I just love her. You’ve probably heard of “32 Flavours” but seriously, go beyond and explore her gigantic catalogue.

Teaser : And Lucille, your voice still sounds in me/Yeah mine was a relatively easy tragedy/The profile of our country looks a little less hard-nosed/But you know that picket line persisted and that clinic's since been closed

(”Lost Woman Song,” from Ani DiFranco, 1990.)

Bratmobile

I can’t possibly list every riot grrl-era punk band as this list would simply become copy-pasta from Wikipedia. However, I do feel the need to recommend Bratmobile, a quintessential riot grrrl band, because their lyrics explicitly reject liberal pablum and demand something more substantial not only from men, but from other women as well. They’re a good band to listen to when you’re feeling exasperated at how many women will expend so much effort defending their Nigels and making excuses for men.

Teaser: What do you mean against the feminine form/It’s girls like you who are always torn/Between salvation and one of the boy toys/Give them what they want, but I want more

(”What’s Wrong With You?” from Girls Get Busy, 2002.)

Dory Previn

Dory is a lesser-known folk artist, similar in style to Joni Mitchell. After her husband Andre Previn left her for Mia Farrell in the 1970s, she turned her attention from writing music for movies to writing incisive, deeply personal music. Sometimes she sings more explicitly feminist lyrics, (see “When A Man Wants A Woman,” for example) but what I find really powerful in her lyrics is in the ways she subtly highlights the unequal power dynamics between heterosexual men and women in the context of “loving” relationships. She’s also a good artist to listen to if you are interested in how aging and older women are treated in our society. Finally, she’s super sly at taking digs at “sexually liberated” left-wing dudebros of the ‘70s.

Teaser:

Whatever you give me I'll take as it comes/Discarding self-pity I'll manage with crumbs/I'll settle for moments, I won't ask for life/I'll not expect labels like lover, or wife

(”Lemon-Haired Ladies, from Mythical Kings and Iguanas,1971.)

Joan Baez

Joan Baez doesn’t consider herself a feminist per se, but she’s been an activist on the front lines of progressive politics for over 50 years. Aside from women’s rights, she sings about labour rights, civil rights, and anti-war activism. While Baez is most famous for her covers of classic folk songs, she has also written a lot of her own music, which is super underrated. “Diamonds and Rust,” which is quoted below, is kind of her fuck-you song about Bob Dylan.

Teaser: And there you stayed /Temporarily lost at sea /The Madonna was yours for free /Yes the girl on the half-shell/Would keep you unharmed

(”Diamonds and Rust” from Diamonds & Rust, 1975)

Le Tigre

Le Tigre is fronted by Kathleen Hanna, the most famous face of the Riot Grrrl scene, but also includes JD Samson a visibly gender-nonconforming lesbian artist who unabashedly identifies as lesbian and female. Le Tigre’s music is some of the most explicitly, directly feminist, and while I wouldn’t necessarily say that the band as a whole allies itself with radical (rather than queer) feminism, they’re still feminists. The music itself is electro-pop, VERY early 2000s sounding computerized instrumentals but somehow super catchy and polished anyway.

Teaser:

Carol Rama and Eleanor Antin/Yoko Ono and Carolee Schneeman/You're getting old, that's what they'll say, but/Don't give a damn I'm listening anyway

(”Hot Topic,” from Le Tigre, 1999.)

Sleater-Kinney

Probably every punk fan follower I have is already of a fan of them, but in case you don’t know, Sleater-Kinney is an all-female punk rock band that formed in the mid 1990s a little bit after the height of the riot grrrl movement. They were inspired by the earlier riot grrrl bands, but (in my opinion) their music has grown more sophisticated and rich melodically and lyrically than most of the Bikini Kill/Babes in Toyland stuff you would associate with riot grrrl. The two lead singers, Carrie Brownstein and Corinne Tucker are bisexual (I don’t know about the drummer, Janet Weiss) and briefly dated, continuing to perform side by side during and after their breakup. (The song “One More Hour" is a really searing, painful song that they wrote together about the dissolution of their own relationship.) Anyways, they have a really unique sound that’s a result of both Brownstein and Tucker playing lead guitar and lead vocals, with no bass or rhythm guitar. Rather than harmonizing, they sing overlapping lyrics in a really dissonant way and basically, if you love punk rock like I do, you MUST listen to them right now.

Teaser: Find me out/I'm not just made of parts/Oh you can break right through/This box you put me into

(”Heart Factory” from Dig Me Out,1997.)

Songs

“You Don’t Own Me” by Lesley Gore (Lesley Gore Sings of Mixed-Up Hearts, 1963)

Pretty much the classic oldies proto-feminist song. You’ve probably already heard and love it. Years later, Lesley came out as a lesbian. We love her.

Teaser: You don't own me/I'm not just one of your many toys/You don't own me/Don't say I can't go with other boys

“In Your Shoes” by Sarah McLachlan (Shine On, 2014.)

I saw her perform this song live, and she explained that it was inspired by and dedicated to (in her words) “the most badass teenager in the world,” Malala Yousafzai. The song does not reference Yousafzai directly, but it is very explicit in addressing young women (not men.)

Teaser: Say what’s on your mind with pride/‘Cause you are your own woman

“Stupid Girls” by P!nk (I’m Not Dead, 2006.)

This song came out when I was in middle school, which was shortly after the absolute peak (around 2004/2005) of “stupid girl” culture, when Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears and their ilk were still really popular. (I do love Britney though.) This song really touched me and it felt like such a breath of fresh air to see a female pop star at that time who was also bothered by the way porn culture had created only one infantilizing and sexualized path to female stardom.  Later on, I started to feel bad about liking "Stupid Girls” as liberal feminism made me feel guilty because, y’know, some women like being porn stars and getting plastic surgery and fake tans. Anyways, fuck that and this song is super amazing, especially when you’re a 12-year-old proto radfem in the year 2006.