#i would have done this sooner but marvel decided to rip my heart out and stomp all over it

[evan-buck]

OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH Ed and Stede in Season Two

Dear Ed, I long for you. Every day we spend apart feels like an eternity. I know you don't want to hear from me, but I write these letters daily, hoping one will reach you. Hope that's okay. And I know we're not through. I can feel it in my soul. A love like ours can't disappear in an instant. We're joined to one another. Intertwined. We wrote our names on each other in permanent ink.

[chaoticminhos]

gentle

pairing: bang chan x reader

genre: angst, smut

warnings: mentions of past abuse, yelling

word count: 3k

a/n: not proofread, this is a suuuuper old request, and i’m back after like two months of being inactive!!! thank you for waiting around for me 🥺

you’d never heard him yell like this, not even when you tripped over his computer cords, ripping them all from his laptop and causing him to lose hours of work. he never got this angry, he never raised his voice at you. he knew how much yelling scared you, so why now did he decide he didn’t care? you thought he cared. he seemed like he cared.

you flinched are every single word that came out of your boyfriends mouth, but he was far too focused on his own frustrations to notice. or maybe he simply didn’t care about the tears building in your eyes and the panic tightening in your throat.

“i don’t understand how you could put down a payment that big and not even talk to me about it first, y/n! i mean seriously, we said we were going to wait to see what other places were available, why the fuck would you think it would be okay to drop half of our fucking funding down on a house we haven’t even decided we really want yet?”

“i’m sorry chan, he- the realtor was so insistent and he kept saying it would go fast and you weren’t there to make him stop talking and i just got nervous and-“

“oh?” he threw his hands into the air, “you got nervous? you got nervous so you threw away a shit ton of our money? we can’t get that back, y/n! if we don’t buy the house, we don’t get all that money back to spend on another house!”

“chan i-“

“thanks for making a huge fucking life decision without me, y/n. nice fucking teamwork.”

not only had you never seen him yell like this, you’d most definitely never had him yell like this at you. the pure frustration he was directing towards you sprung up old memories of someone chan promised to keep you safe from, but any loud and angry voice sounded like the one that used to mean panic and lying to doctors.

any glue you had holding you together broke as the same pleading words that had never worked before flew out of your mouth.

“please, i’m really sorry, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to! i really didn’t, please don’t hurt me, i’m sorry!”

your words became incoherent as you lost control of yourself, the same autopilot routine you’d gotten so used to years ago taking control. you crumpled to the ground, shielding yourself with your arms as you continued to apologize, over and over and over and over. you waited for the pain to come, the arms to rip your hands away from your face and force you to look evil in its eyes, but they never came.

you’d thought they had, but it was just chan placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to steady you and get you to look at him. you immediately flinched away from the touch, shuffling yourself backwards and distancing yourself from the perceived threat.

he reached for you again, but you had the same reaction, not even letting him come into contact with you a second time. upon realizing that physical touch wasn’t the way to bring you back to reality, chan dropped any ounce of anger that had been in his voice just moments before and called to you.

“y/n, baby girl, it’s me, it’s okay. baby, it’s chan. can you look at me?”

you shook your head. you weren’t hearing him.

“baby girl, it’s chan. i’m not him, it’s chan. i’m here for you baby, and i’m so sorry i yelled.”

a few minutes of continuing to coax the calm out of you with his voice took the violent shaking from your body and you finally raised your head to meet his eyes. you still wouldn’t let him get close enough for him to pull you into his arms and keep you there, keep you safe.

“i wouldn’t ever hurt you y/n. i’m not him, okay?he’s not here. he can’t hurt you anymore.”

he inched his way over to you, moving slowly and checking constantly to make sure he wasn’t frightening you with the proximity until he was finally close enough to touch you, but he didn’t. instead, he crouched down in front of you and opened his arms wide.

“princess, do you want to come here? whenever you’re ready, i’m here to hold you and keep you safe, okay?”

he’d expected hesitation, but you jumped immediately into his arms, wrapping your own around his body. you were pressed so tightly against him that he could feel just how fast your heart was racing. it broke his heart to know that it wasn’t butterflies causing your heart to beat so fast for him, but instead it was fear.

“i’m sorry for yelling, i shouldn’t have yelled.”

with every second that your tears soaked into his shirt and your labored breathing began to calm down, chan was replaying the entire fight in his head, cursing himself for ever raising his voice in the first place.

after what felt like hours of chan mentally screaming at himself for scaring you, you finally spoke again. your raspy and shaking voice are what finally brought tears to chan’s own eyes.

“i’m sorry.”

“no.” he said firmly, “you have nothing to apologize for baby, i’m the one who should be on my knees begging for forgiveness. i’m so sorry y/n, i had no right to raise my voice like that.”

you shook your head, face buried in his shoulder, “no, i messed up. now we have to buy the house and you don’t even like it.”

your voice cracked and a fresh wave of sobs threatened to choke out your throat, but chan interrupted them.

“my sweet angel, i could not care less about the house. what matters is that i’m living there with you. if you like the house, if you can imagine starting a family with me there, then i love it.”

a wave of relief flooded through chan when a soft smile broke out on your face.

“i think the yard would be perfect for kids to play in.”

chan rested a hand on your cheek and guided your face close to his, “then it’s a good thing you put down a payment. i’ll ask the realtor about when we can start to move in tomorrow, okay?”

you nodded as he placed a gentle kiss to your lips. the taste of salty tears on your lips only made him want to kiss you more, hold you closer, show you that he loved you more than he could have ever imagined loving someone, if you’d let him.

and you’d decided that you finally would.

“chan,” you pulled away, eyes locked right to his, “do you think were ready for kids?”

he pouted in thought, “i think we’re going to be wonderful parents, sooner or later.”

eyes still locked to his, you spoke.

“can we do sooner?”

you caught him off guard with the question and it took him a moment to process what you were suggesting.

in all the time you’d been together, you’d never slept together. chan knew you were nervous and he wasn’t going to pressure you, no matter how badly he wanted to outline your entire body with kisses and praise.

he’d always known your first time would start with you suggesting it, but now that it was finally happening, he was almost too flustered to act.

almost.

he shifted his seating at the simple mention of finally having you, locking his eyes to yours.

“are you sure, princess?”

you nodded, hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt, “i want you.”

that was all it took for chan to capture your lips in his, leaning you back until your back was flat against the ground.

you weren’t a stranger to kissing chan like this or even to the reactions his body had to it. you’d seen him worked up many times because of you, but he always handled it himself.

but he made you feel safe, he made you feel loved. you didn’t even know it was possible to feel so cared for before you’d met chan. he changed your life, he’d helped you through so much. you wanted to help him, too.

you slid a hand from his neck down his chest and to the waistband of his pants. he yelped in surprise, not expecting you to be so forward.

he gripped your hand, guiding it back to his neck with a small laugh.

“the first time we have sex will not be on the floor of this shitty kitchen.”

you laughed back as he stood you up, sweeping you into his arms and easily carrying you to your shared bedroom. you wouldn’t have been able to stop him from picking you up even if you had wanted to, but the thought didn’t scare you. with anyone else, it would have. the feeling of powerlessness would have overwhelmed you, but you trusted chan. he wouldn’t hurt you. he was carrying you to safety, not to fear.

he sat you down on the mattress, taking the time to remove his shirt before crawling on top of you and connecting his lips back to yours.

as much as you loved kissing the man on top of you, you lightly shoved him away, hands sliding down his bare torso as you took him all in. he was gorgeous. the freckles across his chest and his hot skin against your palms made waves of butterflies go through your stomach.

chan let you marvel at him for a moment before leaning down and kissing your neck, speaking warmly into the skin.

“now you’ve seen me. can i see you, angel?”

there wasn’t even a second of hesitation before you were nodding, lifting your arms above your head to allow him to pull off your shirt.

if it has been anyone else asking for you to reveal yourself in your most vulnerable, you would have hesitated. you would have done so much more than hesitate, but it wasn’t someone else. it was chan. there was no reason to hesitate with chan.

his fingers ghosted over your back as he fumbled to unclip your bra, tossing it onto the quickly forming pile of clothes on the ground.

he failed an attempt to hold i’m a groan at the sight of you under him. the noise sent a wave of affection and lust through your body, landing right in your core.

he leaned down and placed another gentle kiss to your lips before trailing his way down your body, landing on your left boob. he swirled his tongue around your nipple before taking it into his mouth, coaxing a soft moan from your lips. he made a sound of approval in response and repeated his action, gaining the same reaction.

god, he’d wanted to take his time with you, but you were making it difficult for him to keep his patience.

continuing his trail of kisses, he found his way to the waistband of your pants, tapping your hip as a signal for you to shift your weight to help him pull them off. you complied, it wasn’t like your patience was holding up much better than his.

you reached for him, trying to get him to the same position you were in, but he pushed your hand away. you let out an annoyed whine and got an amused chuckle in response, which only made your pout grow.

“you’re so eager y/n. you want me bad, don’t you?”

you nodded and his smile grew.

“be patient, baby girl. i don’t want to hurt you.”

your reply was instant, “you won’t hurt me.”

he raised an eyebrow at you, a hint of something other than the pure affection he’d been showing you thus far showing through his eyes.

“i’m not? okay.”

he leaned back on his heels, undoing his belt and jeans. you watched as he pulled himself from his confinements and kept the position like he was on display, letting you take in every inch of him.

you’d never seen a dick up close and personal before, but you were sure that chan was huge. a smirk grew on his face as he watched you turn back on you’re statement.

“still think you’ll handle me fine with no prep?”

too stunned to form a coherent sentence, you just stared at him, raking your eyes over his body.

he shrugged, “i didn’t hear a no.”

you broke from your trance as he went into motion, leaning down close to you and situating himself between your legs.

“wait!”

he paused, raising an eyebrow at you.

“i didn’t know.”

“didn’t know what, angel?”

he knew perfectly well what you were referring to, but he wanted to make you say it.

“didn’t know you were so big.”

both his heart and his cock throbbed at the crude words coming out of your mouth in that innocent little voice of yours.

unable to contain a smile, he leaned down and placed a loving kiss to your temple, keeping his place between your legs as he drug his hand down your body. a small gasp left you when his fingers came in contact with your heat, the pure intensity of having someone touch you for the first time nearly overwhelming you.

you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle much with how intense every touch he gave you already was, but you quickly changed your mind to wanting so much more as he slid a single finger through your folds and into your heat.

the feeling was uncomfortable at first, foreign, but you got used to it quickly. just as you’d adjusted to the feeling, a second finger was being added, stretching you further. you winced slightly at the pain the stretch caused, but the pleasure as chan curled his fingers against your walls easily outweighed it.

it wasn’t long before you were practically begging him for more, insisting that you were ready now, that he had worked you good enough for you to handle him.

he was worried that he hadn’t, that you could use a couple more minutes of prep, but how was he supposed to say no to you when you were begging like that? especially after waiting so long to finally have you in this position, he couldn’t.

it was hard to believe you’d had any initial hesitation with the way you wrapped your legs around his back as he sat lined up at your entrance, partly to tease you and partly to give you one final change to back out before you went any further, but there was no way you were going to back out now.

you had one thing on your mind; the man above you. you wanted him, and nothing could change your mind about this. no amount of nerves or fear could overpower the love and need you felt at the moment.

it took everything out of chan not to ruin you the second he slipped inside your walls. you swallowed him so perfectly, right walls clenching around him as he began a slow pace.

he made the mistake of opening his bliss-closed eyes and looking at the place his cock met your body. he held on to every last ounce of control he had as he watched himself slide in and out of you so perfectly. you were so small, but you still took him like it was what you were made for.

“god, baby, you’re doing so good.” he groaned, tearing his eyes away from your heat and burying his face in the crook of your neck. the mixture of his lips against your neck and his length working inside of you built up a knot in your stomach, and your moans started to sound more like whines. chan noticed, both by your change in tone and the way you were helplessly clenching around him, and brought a hand down to your clit, circling his fingers softly against you. in a wave of pleasure you handy even known was possible, you gripped hard into chan’s shoulders and swore you were seeing stars. chan was lucky you’d talked about having children soon, because he didn’t know if he could have pulled himself out of you if he had needed to. the urge to work you through your climax and let his own go was something he was glad he didn’t have fight against.

yet another foreign feeling touched your senses as chan released inside of you, but you were too far gone in coming down from your high to really even notice. the overstimulation of him still being inside of you wasn’t your main concern as you came back down from the clouds.

you came back to reality as he slipped himself out of you, collecting any cum that came out with him and pressing it back into your hole with his fingers. you lied limp as he found your panties and secured them back over your heat, muttering something about making sure you kept every piece of him safe inside of you.

you barely registered that he’d left the room before he was back, two glasses of water and a plate of fruit in his arms. somewhere along the way his boxers had ended up back on him, just another thing you’d been too stunned to process.

you heard the sound of him setting the glasses and plate on a side table before feeling the bed dip beside you. he chuckled, placing his hand on your cheek and turning you to look at him. your eyelids fluttered and his heart swelled. he helped you into a sitting position and handed you one of the waters, setting the plate of food on the bed beside you and ordering you to eat something.

“you seem dizzy, i don’t want you to pass out.”

you laughed raising an eyebrow, “who’s fault is it that i’m dizzy?”

he put his hands up in defense, “you’re the one who seduced me!”

neither of you could contain your giggles as you popped one last grape into your mouth before handing chan the plate and your glass to set aside. the second his hands were free, you pulled him down to a laying position and yanked the blankets over the two of you, finding a soft pillow in his chest.

[fangirlcenteral]

Action

Request:  Hey love! I recently found your blog and I'm OBSESSED so happy to binge read 😂 Also I was wondering if I could request a smut? Reader and tom being lovers irl, but they're both actors. Maybe before they shoot for the day they have a tense argument, then whilst filming a love scene together Tom gets cheeky and actually puts his dingaling inside you, you're both covered by blankets but the cameras are rolling 😅😅 sorry if it's too descriptive! - @slutforhiddlebum

A/N: I have spent literally all day thinking about this. I have seen stuff like this before, but I put my own little spin on it that I haven’t seen before.

Warnings: SMUT (Semi-Public) 

Taglist: @just-the-hiddles​ @trippedmetaldetector​ @introvertedrambling​ @marvel-madness-forever​

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

You and Tom were usually very happy, and got along very well. This particular week however you were fighting about everything. You weren’t really mad at anything in particular. The lack of sleep and the stress from the shoot were just bubbling on the surface, and being taken out on each other. The only difference was last night got bad. Worse than it had ever been. Usually no matter what you would end up in bed together, tangled into each other. But something about the way everyone at the tiny bar you had decided to go to to calm down was staring at Tom, your Tom, made you explode. You fought so bad that you decided to sleep in your separate trailers on set. Neither of you slept very much. Too lost in the thoughts of what the morning would bring. At some point your alarm blared forcing you out of the crying induced trance you had found yourself in. Tom on the other hand laid awake thinking about how he could apologize to you. He planed to go to your trailer before filming to apologize to you, but as soon as he woke up there was a knock on his trailer door. He jumped up hoping it was you, but was disappointed as soon as he heard his makeup artist’s voice outside. You were in a similar situation with people already putting you together for your scene when a production assistant walked in with the script for the scene you were about to film with Tom. After looking at the scene you were even more nervous about this scene. You had never done a sex scene before, and the only calming thing about it was that Tom would be here to help you. Now you were so unsure of what would happen when you saw each other.

After the both of you were done with hair and makeup you were instructed to undress and put on some uncomfortable nude underwear and nipple pasties. You tried to cover yourself as much as possible with the robe before leaving your trailer to walk to the set. You tried to walk as quickly as possible to the set. Thinking the sooner you got there the sooner it was over. As soon as you walked onto the set Tom’s heart broke at how nervous you looked. All he wanted to do was hold you in his arms and tell you everything would be alright, but he felt that you were still mad at him. After the director went over the scene with you both you laid down on the bed and covered yourself with the blanket, looking at him terrified. He quickly walked over to you and carefully laid on top of you. You were hyper aware of the few people in the room. You were too lost in your thoughts to notice the crew leaving to let your get set up while they finished setting up. As soon as they were out of the room he unknotted the robe for you and helped you take it off. He quickly shed his own robe and looked down at you. You covered your breasts with your hands until he pulled them away.

“Don’t worry baby, I won’t let them see anything,” He said smiling down at you. You smiled back and kissed him lightly, your fears diminishing from the soft press of his lips. He leaned back, and began adjusting his nude underwear. You didn’t think much of it until the crew funneled in, and you felt him pull your underwear the the side. “let me make it up to you baby,” he whispered in your ear. You nodded and put your hands around his neck. While you laid there waiting a camera guy came up behind you to set a camera looking at Toms face. Tom instinctively leaned over to cover you more, unknowingly pushing his tip into you. A moan attempted to escape, but you covered it with a cough.

As soon as action was yelled Tom was kissing you deeply and thrusting into you slowly and harsh. You threw your head back against the pillows with a loud moan. Your eyes screwed as you got lost in the moment. Forgetting that you were surrounded by people recording you for a second. Only feeling Tom’s gentle kiss and rough thrusts. When you threw your head back further and your eyes shot open, when Tom’s tip brushed your sensitive spot, and you looked right into the camera. You quickly brought your eyes back to Tom and closed them as he laid against you. Just as you felt like you were teetering precariously between the heaven of your orgasm and the shocking reality you found yourself in, the director yelled cut. Tom stopped immediately and pulled out of you. You closed your mouth and attempted to control your breathing, suddenly very aware of the people surrounding you. You felt a heat move up your body in embarrassment. You put your head against Tom’s chest. You couldn’t tell if the heat spreading all over your body was from the orgasm that was just ripped away from you, or the embarrassment and excitement of what you just did. In your slight haze you didn’t notice Tom shooing everyone away until he was kissing at your cheeks while adjusting himself back into his underwear. He pulled himself up, and helped you into your robe. You sat up and looked at him with wide teary eyes, almost begging him to not leave you hanging like this. He simply looks at you and chuckles at your pouting. He cups your chin, and makes you look up at him. He leaned down and kissed you before pulling you to stand. 

“We have a while before out next scene, why don’t you go wait for me in your trailer. I need to get some stuff, then i’ll meet you there. Okay,” he said looking at you carefully. It was times like this where you were so needy that he handled you like a porcelain doll. You nod slowly, and he helps you stand. Carefully observing to make sure your steady on your feet before letting you go. You quickly scurried back to your trailer, and shed the weird half clothes you were given before laying on the bed. You got on your hands and knees, arching your back slightly to present your glistening folds to Tom as soon as he walked in. You didn’t even have to look back to know he had walked into the room. The deep groan that left his lips, and the quick heavy footsteps approaching you. Suddenly you felt his smooth hands groping at your ass. He moved his hands slowly to your hips, pressing your ass and folds against the rough material of the jeans he must have put on. You whine out slightly, and let your head fall forward. You felt him shift and soon you felt him blow a cool breath against your drenched folds. You shuddered slightly and started to fall forward, but his hands held you in place with a firm hold.

“Hold on darling, I’m gonna make you feel real good. Over, and over, and over again,” he said darkly. You could practically hear the smirk on his face when you whine and grip the bed sheets till your knuckles were white. You very suddenly felt a firm lick from your entrance to you clit. When he reached your sensitive bud he lightly nipped at it. Again, you nearly fell, but he used one of his hands that was holding your thigh to wrap the whole arm around your thighs to hold you tightly against his face. He moved his other hand to rub your clit, and began roughly eating you out. You were positive that anyone near your trailer could hear your pathetic, whiny screams of pleasure. Tom continued to stab his tongue into you rapidly. You started shaking against his hold. When he felt this he went even faster. Using his whole body to both throw you over the edge and hold onto you so you don’t physically fall. When you finally let yourself fall over the edge he doesn’t let up. He focuses all his energy on making making you feel everything he will give you. When you finally stop screaming in pleasure, he pulls back slowly and looked up at your trembling body. He smiled to himself as he laid a soft kiss on your backside. He then helped you move to lay on your back. He helped you get comfortable before tracing his ridiculous long fingers up your inner thigh.

“Do you think your ready for me baby. I wouldn’t want to hurt my precious girl,” he said rubbing his fingers up and down your slit, occasionally flicking at your clit. You mewled out and grabbed at his belt weakly, too lost in pleasure to speak. “Okay baby, okay,” he laugh at your attempt to get his pants off. You whined as he pulled away from you, causing him to put his hand on your stomach, and rub soothing circles.

After he got his pants off he grabbed your hand and brought it down to his cock. You wrapped your hand around him and looked up at him. The way you look at him could have finished him. You looked so innocent with your massive bright eyes, and soft opened mouth. He let go of your wrist and let you stroke him slowly. You sat up and looked at him. He leaned in and kissed you deeply. You slowly rubbed your thumb over his tip, applying a bit of pressure to make his squirm. As you did that he broke the kiss with a moan. You them released him and traced your finger on the underside of his head.

“Alright. That’s enough of that,” He said as he pulled your hand off him and pushed you to lay on your back. He kisses up your body until he us face to face with you. He leaned down and kissed you sweetly as he rubbed his cock through your folds. You broke the kiss with a moan as you threw your head back as he pushed into you quickly. He didn’t give you time to adjust before he was pounding into you. He leaned down and began kissing at your neck, and speaking sweet nothings in your ears. You held onto him tightly as he moved your leg to his hip to thrust into you deeper and harder. Hitting a part inside of you, you always forget about until he hits it. Over, and over, and over again. He laid soft kisses on your cheeks and held onto your leg tightly. You suddenly felt a course of electricity shoot through your body. You didn’t even have time to warn Tom before you were screaming so loud you were sure you would be hoarse later, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. To blinded my the immense pleasure you were feeling. You felt Tom grip harder on your leg and grunt above you as he spilled into you. You rode out your highs before he stilled above you, and started panting heavily. After a few moments of breathing heavily he slowly put your leg down and eased out of you. He shushed you and rubbed your forehead as you whined at the loss of contact.

After he cleaned you up, and helped you slip on one of his shirts he helped you under the covers. He held you close to his chest. 

“How are you feeling darling? Not too bad I hope,” he said cuddling close to you. You shook your head as he made you drink some water. He nodded as he put to water on the night stand before pulling you to his chest. You quickly began nodding off.

“Sleep tight my love. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he whispered in your ear as you fell asleep.

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

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. It took a little longer than I had hoped, but I actually really like it. My requests and tag list are open. I hope your having a great day/night. Sorry if the ending is rough. I’m exhausted, but can’t sleep.

[cryoqi]

in this timeline and the next.

“if you could re-do one moment in your life, what would it be?”

with oikawa tooru. 

in 2.1k words. 

tags time travel au, gn reader, angst to fluff.

For your fifteenth birthday you were gifted with a CD player along with one disc labelled “In This Timeline And The Next.” It sounded like the name of a movie, though you couldn’t put the title to a story. It sat in your closet untouched, until one day, several years into the future, you had the sudden urge to jump up out of your bed after wallowing in it for several days and open up the door of your closet to dig through the old clothes to uncover your old CD player. After a few minutes you were able to find the disc, thanking whatever was up there that it wasn’t scratched.

With dry hands you placed the disc inside the player and pressed the “play” button. Though you could see the disc turning in the transparent cover of the player, you couldn’t hear anything. You stared at it for a bit, never moving your head away from it, until you grew bored and turned to sit back in bed. When you turned to view the crumpled sheets and the littered water bottles spewed about, they were nowhere to be seen. All that was on your bed was a neatly-made blanket that you remember using back when you were fifteen years old, along with the pillow you remember crying on after Oikawa Tooru told you he didn’t have feelings for you. Maybe, if you looked closely, you could see the tear stains that remained.

After peering at the pillow to see if there were actually tear stains, the phone that sat quietly on your desk buzzed. Turning around to see what the notification said, you realized that the room in which you were standing was your bedroom from back when you were fifteen years old. Everything that you had placed in your room, even the anime poster you put up as your other birthday present, was there for you to see, as if you hadn’t removed any of it when you were sixteen years old. You rushed to your mirror, the one with the terrible finger marks and ripped-off stickers placed in the corners, and you audibly gasped. You were you, but back when you were a premature fifteen-year-old who had no sense of style.

You turned your head towards the CD player, the cause of the mess you were in right now, and pressed on the “pause” button. Nothing had worked. You pressed it multiple times, only for nothing to happen. You tried pressing everything on the player, and nothing worked. Groaning out loud, you brought your knees in to hug your legs and began sobbing. You couldn’t go back to the present; you were currently stuck in the past.

Footsteps from behind your bedroom door grew louder, and upon hearing them you jumped up off of the floor and into your bed. You tucked yourself underneath the sheets as you sneakily checked the clock hung up on your wall. It was almost 6 AM, and you weren’t sure if it was a school day, or if you were currently even in school. It could be winter vacation, for all you know, and you couldn’t tell by looking out the window, for the curtains blocked your view. Your heart raced, and you felt like you were fifteen all over again (which you were, but you didn’t want to admit it just yet), not wanting to get caught sleeping in on a school day.

“(Y/N)? Happy birthday, love. Are you still sleeping? Get up, honey, you have school today.” It was your mother. Your chest warmed at her sweet voice. “Make sure you hurry before Hajime and Tooru come so you could walk with them to school.” You jumped up at her notion, completely forgetting about how Iwaizumi and Oikawa used to walk with you to school every morning since they lived nearby.

Opening up your closet, you marveled at how different it was compared to your closet now, as a college student. You wanted to say it even smelled different, the scent of your clothes becoming prominent as you sifted through your clothes to find your junior high uniform. You went to a school close by Kitagawa Daiichi, where Iwaizumi and Oikawa attended as middle school students, and they always felt the need to walk you to school as if they had the responsibility to look after you and protect you, despite being the same age as they were.

As you struck a pose in the mirror, you laughed to yourself. You pointed at yourself in the mirror, looking yourself in the eye, saying, “You’re gonna have the biggest glow-up in the future. Just you wait.” You made your way out of your bedroom, and you looked all around your house. It shocked you at how much the decoration around your house hadn’t changed, which was a stark contrast from your completely different bedroom. As you entered the kitchen, where your mother cooked her own breakfast, you gave her a side hug, to which she gasped in amazement.

“Oh! Well, this is something different. Are you feeling ill, love?” Your mother asked.

You shook your head. “It’s nothing. Just wanted to greet my mom a good morning.” She chuckled at your response. You turned and grabbed the first thing you could find on the counter of your kitchen and made your way out the door, bookbag in one hand with your food in the other. “I’ll see you later; good bye! I love you.” She called out an “I love you, too!” as you exited the house.

In perfect timing, you saw Iwaizumi and Oikawa, walking side-by-side towards your house. Iwaizumi raised his hand, waving at you, while Oikawa kept his in his pockets, looking away from you.

It was the same scenario several years ago, when the night before, you had called Oikawa on your phone, whispering into the microphone so as not to wake up the other members of your family, telling him that you were possibly in love with him, and that you were afraid you might fall even more deeply than you already were. You had hoped, on that night, that he would say yes and become your boyfriend, as it would have made the best birthday present you could ever ask for. However, he said that he didn’t have feelings for you, breaking your heart for the very first time. You cried yourself to sleep that night, and woke up with swollen eyes. It was not a good day to start your fifteenth birthday.

The following days, Oikawa and you stopped talking and soon enough, the two of you fell apart as friends. Your mutual friend was Iwaizumi, who read the room and decided not to plan or do things with the two of you together. Your high school life was also awfully awkward, as you three went to Aoba Johsai together, so you saw Oikawa often. You had to admit it was painful for you to see Oikawa being the icon of the boy’s volleyball team, always having girls by his side. By your third year, though, the two of you had grown so distant that whatever he did passed through you like old news. When you graduated, some remnants of Oikawa remained in your mind, but he left for good when he moved out of the country to continue volleyball professionally.

So now here you were, once again reliving your past. Perhaps it was for the better; for you to change your past and create a future that could have happened. You caught up to Iwaizumi and Oikawa and greeted them both a good morning. Iwaizumi cheerfully greeted you back, and the other remained silent.

Usually the three of you walked together, side-by-side with you in the middle, but today Iwaizumi walked in the middle, understanding why without having to ask. It was an awkward walk, but as you arrived at the crosswalk where you part your ways from Oikawa and Iwaizumi, you grabbed onto Oikawa’s wrist before he could leave your sight.

“Wait, Oikawa-chan. Can I say something?” you asked. He stayed and listened intently, silently letting you continue. “I’m— uh, I’m sorry about last night. It was something unlike me to do, and I hope we can continue to stay friends even if I have feelings for you and you don’t for me.”

Oikawa smiled, and embraced you. You hugged him back, breathing in his scent. When the two of you pulled away, he kept his hands on your arms as he promised you, “I’m really sorry about last night as well, (Y/N)-chan. We’re always going to be friends, no matter what.” Before you left for your school and he left for his, Oikawa turned to you and added, “Oh, and happy birthday, (Y/N)-chan. Sorry I didn’t say it sooner. I hope you have a good one today.”

You parted ways with him, and a strange feeling never left your chest for the rest of the day. It kept a smile on your face, and butterflies rose up a storm in your stomach. It was entirely different than how your fifteen-year-old self handled the situation, but you were glad that you were able to make amends with Oikawa.

When you arrived home from school later that day (which, you weren’t going to lie, was a little difficult as you forgot most of the material you learned), you noticed that the CD player you were given was no longer on the floor but now sat at the corner of your desk. Perhaps your mother had placed it there. You sat on the chair, pulling yourself up to view the player again. You observed it all over, and when you checked the bottom of the player, you saw words scrawled hastily with a black permanent marker.

“IF YOU COULD RE-DO ONE MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE, WHAT WOULD IT BE?”

The message was an eye-opener. You had just re-done one moment in your life that you regretted, and maybe it was going to change your future. You pressed the “play” button of the player and the disc began turning underneath the transparent cover. A couple seconds later, the phone on your desk buzzed, and as you looked over to see why it was buzzing, you noticed that your desk had changed back to how it was in the present. Everything was back to normal, you thought as you looked around your room. Turning your head back to face your phone, you picked it up to see something you would have never expected to see light up on the screen in front of you.

“Tooru is calling…”

You answered the call, and from the other end came Oikawa’s sleepy, raspy voice. “(Y/N)-chan, is that you? Good morning…”

Your chest grew tight and your stomach was doing flips. Did you really change the future? It couldn’t be true. “Good morning…” You weren’t sure whether you should refer to him as Oikawa or Tooru, but your contact name for him made it seem like you could call him Tooru. “Good morning… Tooru. Did you have a good rest?”

“I did. Isn’t it the afternoon for you right now? I… I think it is. Good afternoon to you, (Y/N)-chan. I miss you. I think I’ve said that too many times now, hahah…” He chuckled a little bit as you sat in shock. He missed you? Even after years of no communication with him? Or perhaps you actually did change the future, and you were able to start a relationship with him.

“… I miss you too. I’ve missed you for the longest time,” you replied.

“I’m glad, (Y/N)-chan. I miss you so much. Well, I have to get out of bed now. Practice is in a bit. I’ll call you back when I’m free. Bye. I love you.” He hung up before you could say anything else. The two of you were in a relationship, and you couldn’t help but plant yourself down on the desk in front of you and let your face warm up at his words.

He loved you. After what you had done that seemed like only hours ago, he finally had feelings for you.

You opened up the player to look at the disc labelled “In This Timeline And The Next,” and you picked it up out of the player to observe it carefully. You noticed that grooved into the disc there lay almost invisible words that made your mouth open slightly.

in this timeline and the next …

                                        … i will continue to love you

reposted from my old blog, @/lnarizakis.

[litwitlady]

What We Carry With Us

CW: Alex experiences a combat flashback in this fic. There’s mild depictions of blood and violence. Please read responsibly.

The snowstorm hits earlier than forecasted. Alex hadn’t expected to be locked away in Michael’s bunker while the snow accumulated up above. Hadn’t expected three feet of snow to fall so quickly with at least three more on the way. Hadn’t expected to be snowed in with no one but Michael Guerin for the foreseeable future.

Michael manages to shovel a path from the bunker to his airstream with his telekinesis. They hole up in the trailer for warmth, the generator prepared for a few lingering cold days. Alex doesn’t know what he and Michael are at the moment. Only knows they’ve been spending a lot of time together. Meals at the Crashdown, long discussions about Caulfield and family legacy down in the bunker, drinks at the Pony. Maybe it’s just friendship. Maybe it’s more. Maybe it’s both.

The point is – he doesn’t know. And there’s danger in not knowing.

Michael throws himself on his bed, kicking off his boots and propping himself up on his pillows. Arm thrown lazily behind his head. Alex watches out of the corner of his eye, still taken all these years later at the long, lean form he paints against crisp, clean sheets. It’s one of the main reasons his sheets never stay crisp or clean for very long.

Alex doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s standing awkwardly, shoulder sloping into Michael’s makeshift closet. The door nothing but prettied up plywood that scarcely holds his weight. He tries to act natural, but his brain keeps attacking him with explicit images of the last night he spent here. How he’d climbed behind Michael and fucked him so hard the thin bedframe started to splinter. And then waking up the next morning to Isobel and those goddamn bagels.

There’s a clock somewhere ticking, echoing loudly in the narrow trailer. Alex feels his eye start to twitch. Tries to think of something to say – anything to break this uncomfortable silence. He dares a glance at Michael. His eyes are closed, his breathing has deepened. Alex wonders at his ability to fall asleep in a moment this rife with tension. But then Michael’s hand pats the bed next to him. ‘You can sit down, Alex. I’m not going to bite unless you ask me to.’ He doesn’t bother opening his eyes, but his lips quirk up. Doesn’t need to see Alex to know the effect he has on him – will always have on him.

It's a risk. Getting that close. But then Michael looks at him, eyes filled with a naked need, and Alex is moving as quickly as he can to close the distance between them. Falling on the flat mattress at Michael’s feet. He hates himself just a little. For all the ways he never says ‘no’. For all the ways he always says ‘no’. And how quickly he manages the contradiction.

But he’s trying to change that.

Michael pushes himself up a little higher on his pillows. ‘Can I ask you a question?’ Lines are suddenly furrowed across his forehead. They put Alex on edge immediately.

‘Okay.’ Alex sounds hesitant, worried. And he is those things, but he’s also curious. He watches Michael bite at his bottom lip, running the question back and forth in his mind. Working out the kinks and formulating the perfect calculus.

‘You’re going to think this is weird. And it probably is. So, feel free to tell me to fuck off.’ He’s fiddling with the bottom button on his shirt, pushing and pulling through the wrong buttonhole. Alex can’t help but fixate on the small patches of skin he keeps exposing. He knows every inch of Michael’s body, can feel that precise stretch of skin yawn beneath his fingertips, and yet he’s still such a marvel.

Alex settles back against the headboard that doubles as a kitchen wall. ‘Whatever I’m imaging in my head right now is probably way worse.’ He shrugs and picks at his cuticles. Heartrate slightly elevated. He notices how close their knees are, wonders what would happen if his leg crossed that invisible barrier to rub against Michael’s. Would there be any room left in the airstream for questions? For any words at all?

The yellowed newspaper normally taped to the window has come loose and is flapping softly against the glass. Michael reaches up to flatten the corner back into place, but the act is futile. ‘What was it like over there? In the Middle East?’

Immediately, a distant desert landscape unfolds in Alex’s mind. He’s back in Iraq, at that tiny village market. A bright Friday morning. Sun so low he can feel his skin burn. The hustle and bustle of people kicking up the dirt and dust, his eyes watering. In the muddy road, there’s a boy kicking a soccer ball. A little girl cries in her mother’s arms. Several dogs sniff the food stalls. A group of men are having tea outside a small bakery. And then the world is upside down. The earth shakes with so much screaming. The spray of someone’s blood soaking through his fatigues. A sudden, searing heat and his skin on fire.

He comes to with Michael violently shaking him. Shouting his name in frantic whispers. But Alex can’t hear him. There are tears falling down his face, dotting his t-shirt with little minuscule constellations. His hands are shaking and his breathing ragged. Michael’s hands have moved from his shoulders into his hair, pulling their foreheads together. Alex concentrates on the jagged edges of Michael’s half-chewed fingernails scraping across the sensitive skin of his scalp. Syncs his breathing to that soothing back and forth scratch.

When sound returns, Michael is saying sorry on repeat. Alex takes several deep breaths and puts his hands on Michael’s chest, pushing gently. Wanting to calm him but also needing space. Alex reaches up and rips the flapping newspaper from the window, flattening his palm across the freezing glass. The cold grounding him in time and place. He continues to breath for several more minutes. Michael has gone silent.

Alex’s heartrate slowly returns to normal and he grabs Michael’s hand. ‘I’m okay. I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting that. Just got caught off-guard. That hasn’t happened in months.’

‘No, Alex, I shouldn’t have asked. And with no warning. I’m so, so sorry.’ Michael’s hands reach out for Alex but stop short. The rules have changed, and he doesn’t want to make another mistake. Doesn’t want to end up hurting Alex more than he already has. He balls his hands into fists and drops them at his side. ‘Do you need anything? Some water?’

‘Water would be good.’ His throat is dry, and he knows Michael needs something to do. While Michael digs through his mini-fridge, Alex hugs his good knee to his chest and stares down at the indent in his jeans where his prosthesis ends. He tries to curl the toes on his right foot, but, of course, nothing happens. He hates how much his chest still aches at the disappointment. He’s never told anyone about that day. Decides to change that as Michael returns with bottled water.

‘Thanks.’ He uncaps the water and gulps down half the bottle in one go. He swipes at his mouth with the back of his hand and tugs Michael back down onto the bed. They sit facing each other, legs touching at every point possible – Alex no longer needing or wanting the extra space. Just the opposite, actually. He places the water down behind his head and grabs for Michael’s hands. ‘I’m glad you asked – despite what just happened. I feel like if I was allowed to talk about it more, I might be able to heal better. But no one ever wants the truth about my service, about my leg. Everyone just wants a hero to martyr on main street. A celebration and a parade. A purple heart for the front-page picture. And in all that, I get lost.’

Michael pushes a stray lock of Alex’s hair behind his ear. ‘You’re never lost to me. I always see you. Maybe sometimes I just don’t know how to ask. I guess that’s pretty obvious by now.’

Alex smiles at him and puts his hands on Michael’s knees, using them to center his focus for what he’s about to say. ‘You know, war is often boring. You sit in makeshift buildings in crumbling old air bases or bake beneath the desert sun in stitched together tent cities. You talk about home and play cards. Go on routine missions that result in fucking nothing. Wake up, repeat. Wake up, repeat. And so much of that was not bad. So much of that was forging an odd sense of family. Which felt good.’

Outside the snow has briefly turned to ice. The wind has picked up and the trailer sways. The temperature has dropped despite the generator’s best work. Michael grabs a blanket from beneath them and spreads it across their laps. Searches underneath for Alex’s hands on his knees. Waits for him to continue.

Alex inhales deeply, squeezes Michael’s knees and keeps going. ‘There are maybe a handful of days when anything big happens on purpose. Missions you understand are likely to go south sooner rather than later. Moments when you stare at a living, breathing person. Finger on a trigger. And every time you squeeze that trigger, so much time spent trying to convince yourself you’ve saved American lives. But you haven’t. All you’ve done is commit murder. And all you are is a murderer.’

He feels Michael flinch at that word – ‘murderer’. But it’s the truth Alex has to live with for the rest of his life. And now, so does Michael. Michael, the not so secret alien. Alex, the not so secret murderer. One of those things decidedly worse than the other.

‘You’re not –,’

Michael tries, but Alex will not let him. ‘I am. And no one – especially not you – gets to pretend otherwise.’ Alex is staring him down. Eyes wide and as serious as he’s ever been. Holding his breath waiting for Michael’s acceptance. Otherwise, the conversation is over. And perhaps so much more.

There’s a showdown happening between them. He can feel Michael’s resistance. Is surprised when Michael slides impossibly closer, practically climbing into his lap. Large, familiar hands on his cheeks – his head held steady, golden-hazel eyes boring into his own. ‘You’ve killed people, Alex. I get that. I do. And I hate the fucking military, so I know there was no noble reason for what you did. That American patriotism is a scourge upon this planet. It preys upon the most vulnerable among us. Scared kids with nowhere else to go. I have understood that since the day you left for basic. Better than you, even. I have never and will never see you as a murderer. I have never and will never love you any less.’

They are both right and they are both wrong. And for the first time, that’s okay.

Michael places his hand on Alex’s right leg. At the exact spot where what remains of his leg gives way to his prosthesis. ‘You don’t have to tell me now. But I’d like to know what happened when you’re ready.’

Alex rubs the sore muscles in his thigh. ‘Suicide bomber. Well, three suicide bombers. We weren’t on mission. Just visiting a village market on a quiet Friday morning.’

Michael shoves Alex’s hands aside, replacing them with his own. Massaging the knots out with his talented fingers.

He sighs and continues. ‘I don’t remember much other than the putrid smell of burning flesh. May not have even been my own. Everything erupted into chaos. My ankle had been severed by a burning piece of twisted metal. They had to field amputate my foot. I woke up in Germany with a bad infection. More surgery, less leg. But I was lucky. We were a squadron of ten and then we were three.’

Neither says anything for a long time. What is there to say anyway?

Alex yawns. Michael can see the exhaustion settling in around his eyes. ‘You should sleep. It’s getting late.’ The sun long since disappeared beyond the horizon. ‘Take the bed. I’ll crash in my chair.’

But Alex won’t let him leave. ‘Help me with the prosthetic.’ Together they remove Alex’s pants and free his leg. Michael strips down to just his boxer briefs. Alex follows suit. They curl together underneath the wool blanket. Michael tucking Alex into the crook of his shoulder. Alex’s arm tossed across Michael’s stomach, fingers stroking at the soft skin along his ribcage.

‘Thank you for telling me.’ Michael whispers the words into Alex’s hair, following them with a kiss. Alex stretches his neck up and Michael bends down to kiss him on the mouth. Slow and easy.

There’s a clock somewhere ticking, rhythmic and lulling. And as the snow piles up outside, they fall into the best sleep of their lives.

[writerbyaccident]

Brave New World (Yandere Bucky Barnes/Winter SoldierxReader)

so this piece was actually written as a holiday gift for @yandere-wishes, but i hope the rest of you enjoy it as well and that you’re all having a good holiday season 💝

           It was far too easy to follow you, Bucky thought to himself. All of the skills he had learned, had perfected over the decades weren’t even necessary.  He didn’t need any special tech, he didn’t need any backup, he didn’t even need to follow you, really. All that he really needed to follow the sound of your voice. Yes, your voice. Bucky could find and follow your voice across cities and countries and even oceans. That first day that you came into his life, it was neither your body nor your face that ensnared him. No, it was your voice that called out to him, standing out even amidst the cacophony of the Bucharest marketplace.

           “Oh brave new world that has such people in it!” you had exclaimed with a bright laugh that rainy morning. It was instinct more than anything that led Bucky to search for the source of your voice. It wasn’t as if you were being loud or obnoxious; no, there was simply something in your voice that called to him, something he recognized but could not name. Turning to you, Bucky saw you standing with a small group of people right at the entrance of the market.

From just one look he was able to tell that you and friends must have been exchange students spending a semester abroad. Though of course, the fact that you weren’t speaking Romanian, Hungarian, or Russian certainly helped make it more obvious. But it wasn’t what language you were speaking that caught Bucky’s attention. No, with one look at your face, at your eyes and at your smile, he knew what it was. Such simple, pure wonder in the world and what you continued to find there lived in your voice. As you drank in the sights that surrounded you, it was shocking for Bucky to see the genuine joy you took in all of it. It was something that he hadn’t seen for so long, something that had been ripped away from him so completely that he hadn’t even truly remembered to miss it until he saw you.

As he followed you while the weeks passed, he took in your marvelment greedily, practically feasting on it. In you he saw a reflection of himself, the Bucky that had existed before the war, before Hydra. But more importantly, when he was with you, when he was watching you, he began to feel like that Bucky again. The man who explored the corners of Coney Island and sought out science exhibitions, you brought a piece of him back. You made Bucky feel alive again, but more than that, you made him feel that being alive was worth something.

Was it any wonder, then, that Bucky loved you so deeply?

Another day had passed and another night had nearly ended for you as you wandered tiredly through the city. You and your friends had spent another day exploring what Bucharest had to offer, but while your friends decided to end the day with a few drinks, you had decided to head home. Maybe a different time you would take in more of the city’s nightlife, but tonight you were just too exhausted. And so, you walked through the sparsely populated streets with no idea of the man who walked behind you.

Bucky, on the other hand, spotted the man who was following you with the speed his previous occupation afforded him. Eyes narrowing at the stranger, he cursed the fact that you were so easy to find, so easy to follow. But, he thought to himself as he drew closer to both you and your pursuer, he should have expected this, should have known that he would not be the only man to notice you. As you turned a corner and your hunter soon after, Bucky realized that this was his fault.

Tearing the glove off of his metal hand, Bucky began to run, refusing to lose you to the part of the world that had taken everything from him. His heart pounding louder than his feet on the pavement, he spotted you approaching the end of the street. And your pursuer…your pursuer was unlocking their front door.

Heart tumbling from his iron grip. Bucky sagged against a building wall, truly shocked that he had misread the situation so thoroughly. If he had just caught up to the stranger a minute sooner, he might have done something that would have truly regretted. Pushing himself off of the wall, Bucky shook his head and began to stumble after you, his heart still pounding from the mistake he had almost made.

Yet, as he watched you continue to walk so freely, so innocently, he began to wonder if what he had been prepared to do would have really been a mistake. True, the man behind you had turned out not to have been following you, but all the signs had pointed to him doing so. Really then, could Bucky have truly been blamed for doing what he needed to protect you? You were the light and the hope of his life, he loved you. Wasn’t the possibility of a few mistakes worth keeping you safe? And besides, that was only this time. The next time, or the time after that might not be a false alarm. The world could be such a dark and dangerous place, a fact that Bucky knew better than most. And you, you who were so lovely and so sweet and so pure, you were like fresh blood in the water, calling out to all of the world’s sharks. This time you had ended up safe, but sooner or later, the world would try to take you from him. The world had always taken everything that Bucky loved.

And so, he started to walk faster, not so quickly that you would hear him, but just enough to draw him ever closer to your ambling form. Before long, he stood almost right beside you, walking at your exact pace. The way that your breaths quickened, that your shoulders tightened, that your fists clenched, Bucky took them in sadly. Frightening you was the very last thing that he wanted, but if he wanted you to be safe forever, he would have to tolerate you being frightened for a few moments longer. Just as the two of you began to pass by a shadowed alleyway, Bucky fell against you, forcibly pushing you into the rather enclosed space.

“Please,” you whimpered, the sound sending fissures through Bucky’s heart, “please don’t hurt me.”

“It’s alright,” he answered, cupping your cheek so gently that you could hardly feel it. “I know that you’re scared, but you don’t need to be. You’ll understand soon that I’m doing this for you. Because I love you.”

“What are you—” But before you could finish your question, Bucky took his other hand, his metal hand, and wrapped it firmly around your throat. As your consciousness began to fade, becoming as shadowed at the alleyway you were trapped in, you felt your tormentor softly stroke your cheek with his free hand. When you finally fainted, Bucky released you immediately, pressing his lips against your throat to find your pulse. Finding it, Bucky sighed thankfully and quickly gathered you up into his arms, relishing for once in his unnatural strength, now that he knew that it would be used to protect you.

Please consider supporting me at my Ko-Fi account 

[fallendom]

I decided to save you some money, and some headaches. No longer will you have to deal with insane amounts of money spent on clothes, or constant whining about beauty and sleeping and all that. *flops in a dead asmodeus* look, no loss here. He's just a chatterbox diva, not like he does anything important anyways.

    FURY REPLACES whatever confusion would rise in his features, repulsed by the cocky tongue of theirs. No matter...vermilion hues lit themselves in pure crimson, sprouting demonic horns and black-feathered wings of the avatar. Adorned with that birthmark to baptize him as the AVATAR OF PRIDE, he won’t show any mercy. No sooner did the lifeless beauty fall upon the floor rivaled with wings lifting LUCIFER’S body from the ground. He hovers before the one who dared spouting utter nonsense about one of his brothers. Oh, no ill thoughts as such were ever considered when spending time with him...he can no longer be the flower he truly was. Only wilted on the floor as red-gloved hand extends out, lifting up their body with ease like lifting an INSECT off the floor. Brow raised between the angered tremors escaping the demon’s body, reflecting back to the insults muttered out about LUST. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, let this damned soul pay with their own flesh. Retaining a firm grip over the other’s neck, the strength applied would suffocate them and hears those pleads (no mercy, no mercy on the fallen). An immediate aura surrounds their area with the other hand bringing out a peeler device ------ a perfect replica of what dear ASMODEUS committed to the unsightly creatures that mocked him. IUNIOR FRATER...IUNIOR FRATER!

    INVISIBLE SCREAMS wouldn’t be heard nor did LUCIFER wished to display such weakness when proceeding with dire punishment. His usual speed wouldn’t apply as the demon desired to be satiated with the howls, the screams of having their skin peeled. Like a potato, the process was slower and relishes in their agony to chip away one cell after another. Blood splatters...dripping down with the delicious DEMONUS RED he savored on a hard evening. An hour passes by with vermilion hues marveling over the barely flinching corpse of a rotten demon, seeing their inner layers revealed. Truly, ugly to the core and the avatar understood it the moment they spouted unforgiving words. He discarded the device though let no SADISTIC SMIRK spread as they screamed for forgiveness. There was no LORD to oversea this execution, no one to hear their pitiful cries when committing a grave mistake. A firm SNAP, however, is the last thing heard and suddenly...silence overwhelms them both. The demon had dismembered the other’s head to expose their structure from within a body that collapsed. He settles this part before the floor, intentionally leaving it to witness their body being torn apart (one limb after another, one section after another). Knowing the head lives briefly, PRIDE’S strength is used in tearing off the body leaving the chest region ripped in half. 

    ORGANS FELL out and blood covered his clothing, along with some splattered stains to his perfect cheeks. He harvested the soul from within and, like the other who violated his youngest sibling, swallowed it. No longer would they be reborn though the taste made LUCIFER wish to vomit. Its vile scent and odor was a sour taste but it was necessary...just to never see their disgusting face ever again. The avatar had chosen to leave this body for the maggots, other insignificant life-forms to feast upon. They’ll die unsightly like the useless WASTE THEY TRULY ARE when compared to the beautiful demon who laid dead. “...ASMODEUS, why were you also taken away from me?” The remorse filled his exhausted lungs with a tense tightness, wanting to shed tears if it were possible. His fifth sibling taken away after the youngest was discovered ------ such sorrow would be difficult to describe. Upon finishing up this work, the demon turns to see a wilted LUSTFUL demon who couldn’t open his eyes again. Always the one who stood out with great skills, especially standing by the eldest’s side whenever he requested it. Blood-covered arms support his brother’s body and pressed it close to the demon’s chest. Oh, how he wished this were a theatrical performance where he’d open his eyes and wanted nothing more than to have this reaction. Yet there was no movement, no heartbeat, no warmth...no life (HE WAS UNDOUBTEDLY DEAD).

    “I CAN only imagine how they must have taken advantage of your interest in challenges. You never did shy away from charming someone...even if they were beyond your own control. My dear ASMODEUS, the one who I cherished closely to me from the beginning...forgive me if I couldn’t do any more than punishing your killer. I...I will never forget your beautiful melodies whenever you sang, the affections you offered everyone to be at peace. You, who is LOVED BY ALL...no, you were not genuinely loved thus you sought it. If only I could have done more to help your damaged heart but it is too late.” A crack voice speaks those grieving words, followed by a kiss pressed against his forehead. The words of brotherly love were whispered before heading back to carry LUST for a proper burial.

[joon-bugs]

Dare

~This is a fic that’s been in the making for about two months and I finally got it finished!~ 

“Want to continue the game?” You dug your nail into your palm. Jungkook was gonna get a talking to later. Maybe you should have told Hoseok to leave. That you were tired and had to work the next day. It would have been the smart thing. The safe thing. But a low buzz had already settled in your chest, warming your skin. 

word count: 4,290 

pairing: Hobi/Reader 

genre: smut 

warnings: swearing, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, face riding, intoxication 

“You're up next birthday boy.”

“No way. I swear you skipped your turn Y/N. I'm not that drunk.” You rolled your eyes. Leave it to Jung Hoseok to call you out on your bullshit.

“Damn, I thought I had boozed you up enough.” You took a swig of your half empty beer bottle and scowled. You hated beer. But it was cheap, and you were poor. Hoseok cleared his throat and raised a brow.

“Alright, alright. Fine. I choose..truth.”

“Ugh, lameee. You’re no fun.” Jungkook piped up from the couch. He swung his leg in your direction, attempting to hit you.

“Hey watch it you little shit! Or I’m calling Namjoon and outing your ass.” Jungkook sputtered, almost choking.

“You wouldn’t.”

“You wanna try me?” You held his glare until he sighed, waving his hand dismissively.

“Alright Miss Truth.” He looked thoughtful.

“Done any butt stuff?” You nearly threw your bottle at him.

“Well? You have to answer the question Y/N. It's the gameee.” You opened your mouth to abuse the brat when Hoseok chimed in.

“Yeah Y/N. It's the game.” You turned to look at him and blushed at the playful smirk on his face. Damn him for being so attractive.

You took an absurdly long drink before answering. Jungkook sat up, leaning until he was on the edge of the couch. Oh you were going to get him back for this.

“Yeah. I've done some..butt stuff.” Jungkook fell to the floor laughing, and rolled around until he could catch his breath to wheeze out-

“Oh my god really? I honestly thought you were gonna say no. Holy shit.” He was crying now, wiping  the obnoxious tears from his face. You didn't find it that funny.

“How did it feel?” Jungkook had managed to calm himself down and was pulling himself back onto the couch.

“Well if you must know it felt fucking awful. There wasn't enough lube but he insisted we go for it. I was stupid enough to let him convince me. Never again. End of story.” You finished off the rest of your beer and reached over to grab another one from the side table. You noticed it had grown silent and looked up to see Hoseok and Jungkook staring at you.

“What?” Your skin prickled nervously at the quiet.

“Wow. What a dick. He’s supposed to make you feel good too.”

“You offering Kook? Sounds like you know the area.” You spat out, still a little upset. He scoffed.

“No offense Y/N but that's disgusting and..you're not my type. Maybe Hobi would be so kind. He's got lots of experience from what I've heard.” He nudged the man in question with his elbow, wagging his eyebrows. Your eyes went wide. Hoseok was still for a second then propped his chin on his hand and stuck the tip of his tongue out.

“Well if you want to see how things are done right Y/N, give me a call.”

You squeezed the neck of the new bottle and coughed, disguising your embarrassment. Maybe you'd all had too much to drink.

“Isn't it your turn Jung Hoseok?”

He chuckled, leaning back to rest on his elbows and jutted his chin up, a signal that he was ready.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Wow. That was quick.

“See? Hobi knows how to have a good time.” Jungkook threw his hands up, flopping onto the cushions with a thud.

You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking over your options. You held a lot of power in that moment and needed to use it wisely.

“I dare you to chug that whole thing.” You gestured to the drink he had barely touched, deciding to play it safe. Steer the conversation away from anything remotely sexual. Alcohol mixed with hormones was like playing with fire. Sure it was hot, but someone was always bound to get burned.

He glanced down at his hand, then back at you. Then a wide grin appeared on his face and his throat was suddenly blessing your vision. Oh shit. So much for it not being sexual. His head was tilted back all the way, the long curve of his neck golden and shining. Was he sweating or was it just your imagination? His adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped and when he was done he wiped the remainder with the back of his hand. A droplet escaped his mouth, glistening as it trailed down his throat. You swallowed, not realizing you were staring until Jungkook reminded the room of his existence.

“Woo! My man!” He clapped Hoseok on the shoulder excitedly, shaking him enthusiastically. Hoseok gave a toothy grin in response, his eyes on you. When had it gotten so hot? Jungkook’s turn went by in the blur, and then it was yours again.

“Alright Y/N. If you don’t choose dare this time I’ll make sure to pick a really embarrassing question.” Jungkook seemed giddy at the idea. Was the last one not embarrassing enough? You really needed to find other people to hang out with. You swiped your sticky palms down your jeans. I’m gonna get you back for this kid.

“Ughh. Dare then.” It couldn’t be that bad. Could it? Jungkook kicked his lips, a wicked glint in his eye. Maybe there was no god. Your muscles tightened, preparing to bolt.

‘Just take it off now girllll, just take it off. Uh. I'm a master baby with your bra.’

The familiar chime of his ring tone had you flinching, your heartbeat thumping loudly in your ears. Jungkook glanced down at his cell and recoiled, jumping up.

“Ahhh shit shit. Its my brother. Oh man.” He paced around the room, taking in deep breaths. Your covered your mouth, holding in your laughter.

“Hey Namjoon. Where am I? Uhh I went out. To the store. For snacks.” He cringed at his own lie and you smiled at his turmoil. You heard the yelling at the other end of the line and saw Jungkook swallow. He was already pulling on his jacket, and glancing at the door. He looked back at you and Hoseok, embarrassment clear on his face. You blew a chaste kiss at him and waved him away, reminding yourself to tease the younger at a later time. No sooner had you done this was the boy gone, whirling out the door with the quickness of a trained athlete. With him he took the light joking atmosphere and you felt immediately uncomfortable.

It wasn’t as if Hoseok was a bad guy. He was originally Jungkook’s friend, the two meeting through their love of dancing. (That and chasing tail.) Being close to Jungkook you were soon introduced to the man in question and had fallen down the dark rabbit hole of attraction. If it was a small interest, you could have easily brushed off how his eyes would linger longer than necessary, or how he would make himself seen when you were around. No, you were hopelessly crushing on Jung Hoseok and couldn’t stop how tense your body got when it was just the two of you. You crossed your legs and  examined the chipped polish on your fingers, trying to avoid any eye contact with the man across from you.

“Hey.” You paused, whipping your head up at his voice. He mimicked your pose, his knees peeking out of the strategically ripped holes of his jeans. Why did his freaking knees have to look good too? You coughed, the dryness of your throat blocking your airway.

“Yeah?” You tried not to make the word a squeak.

“Want to continue the game?” You dug your nail into your palm. Jungkook was gonna get a talking to later. Maybe you should have told Hoseok to leave. That you were tired and had to work the next day. It would have been the smart thing. The safe thing. But a low buzz had already settled in your chest, warming your skin.

“Truth or dare?” Hoseok looked thoughtful, tilting his head.

“Dare.” Maybe it was the alcohol making you brave. Or it could have been the roar of blood pounding in your ears.

“I dare you to take off your shirt.” You weren’t sure if you had really said it out loud, but by the look on Hoseok’s face..you had.

“Huh.” He clucked his tongue, keeping his eyes on yours. This was so stupid. And inappropriate. Now he was gonna think you were a pervert. Great. You shook your head, holding the weighted alcohol bottle in a tight grip.

“Sorry, you don’t have to do that.. I think I’m just a little dru-“ In a flash Hoseok had lifted his arms, his shirt finding its new residence on the floor. Holy moly. You weren’t expecting that. Your face burned at the newly exposed flesh and you pretended to scratch at your eyebrow as an excuse to look away.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice was lower than you remembered it to be before. You chuckled awkwardly and cleared your throat again, not knowing how to respond.

“My turn now, right?” He filled the silence after a moment and ran his hand through the curtain of hair that framed his face. You followed his movements like a hawk, marveling at how soft his locks looked. How would it feel under your own fingertips? You wondered. You nodded silently, giving him the go ahead. Your heart was loud in your chest, drumming a steady beat in your ears.

“Truth..or dare?” You knew you were walking into dangerous territory now.

“Um..dare?”

“Kiss me.” You blinked owlishly. This was not happening. You had to be dreaming.

“Excuse me?” His face remained impassive. Unchanged.

“Kiss me.” You considered throwing yourself out of the window. But honestly..would kissing your crush be the worst thing in the world? Your eyes gravitated to the deep cupid’s bow of his lips. No. No it wouldn't.

You got onto all fours, making a decision before you could think better of it. You slowly crawled over to where Hoseok sat, trying to avoid staring at his chest for too long. It wouldn’t make what you were doing any easier. His eyes were lidded when you approached, almost closed. And you could hear how measured his breathing was up close. His eyelashes were long, framing his feminine shaped eyes and high cheekbones. For someone so hot he was...pretty.

The lit lamps in the room cast soft shadows on his skin, painting him in tones of muted gold and chocolate browns. It felt really intimate like this, in the silence and closeness of your apartment. Like lovers stealing away into the night. But you knew that you weren’t lovers. You were two almost strangers only brought together by the coincidence of Jungkook. You clenched your jaw and stopped in front of him. This was just a game. Silly. Something to be laughed at later. It was wishful thinking to believe it was anything else. Feeling your body sink into the carpet you sighed quietly, before pushing your upper half forward.

His mouth was pliant, coming alive at your small pressure. They were smooth, sliding over yours as butter would on toast. You hummed, relishing in the pleasant feeling. The lips pressed to yours were surprisingly hesitant in reciprocating however, and you pulled away as that twinge of doubt resurfaced.

Hoseok’s hand shot out to grab your arm, startling you.

“Kiss me again.” He breathed, his exhale puffing onto your face. You licked your lips, savoring the taste of him. Cheap beer mostly, but there was something else there too. Something dark and forbidden.You gripped a patch of carpet, uncaring of how damaged it would become.

“Unless you’re scared.” You floundered, your mouth opening and closing. Hoseok’s fingertips rubbed the crease in your elbow and you let out a shudder, your nerves trembling. Hoseok too was soon on his knees, moving to mimic your position. You were going to remark how it was your turn to ask him but found your body moving by itself.

You placed your hands on his bare shoulder, hoping he wouldn't notice how they were shaking. His fingers traced up your sleeve until they came to rest on the underside of your jaw. You came close to his ear, close enough to touch. You wet your lips.

“Truth or dare Hoseok?” It was a whisper.

“I choose you.”

He tugged you forward, pressing his lips into yours insistently. Your chest came flush with his as he fell back on his knees and you tried not to topple into him. He laughed lightly, adjusting himself until his arms were secure around your waist. You sighed into his mouth, playing with the hairs on the back of his neck. They were as soft as you expected. Hoseok groaned, pulling you down onto his lap so that you were now straddling him. This position brought your crotches level to each other and he took full advantage of this by digging his nails into your hips and grinding his pelvis into yours. Your legs tightened on the side of his and you whimpered, biting his lip to stifle the noise.

“Oh Y/N..I’ve waited so long for this.”

Hoseok’s hand came up to rest on the curve of your back, angling you until his mouth could be latched on your chest. You squeaked at the unexpected wet tongue and gripped his shoulder blades, trying not to completely dig your nails into his skin. Your thin sports bra was no match for the persistence of Hoseok’s tongue and soon the material was soaked from his attentions.

“If your goal is to make this bra completely unwearable then I’d say you were successful.” You laughed breathlessly. He paused to give you a simmering look.

“Glad you finally caught on.” He grinned. Oh. Said bra was off of you quicker than you could comprehend along with your top, with Hoseok clinging to your now bare skin. You bowed your back when he started to suckle a nipple, the vibrations of his humming sending jolts of pleasure to your lower region. The hair along your body prickled, alive at the erotic sensation. You pressed yourself down on his jeans, unable to help that you were basically dry humping him like a cat in heat. The noises you made were sharp and jerky, reflecting your desperation.

“Oh god-Hoseok. Please I-.” He nipped at your collarbone.

“Careful. You’ll make me come in my pants.” You stopped abruptly and gave an apologetic look.

“Sorry.” You muttered, panting.

“Here. I have an idea that will help you unwind. Lay back.” You raised an eyebrow at him. He gave a small smile in return.

“Trust me. It will be better for both of us.” He tilted you back slowly, until you were on the carpet, your legs still wrapped around him. What the hell is he doing? You tried to keep the thought from reflecting on your face.

“Relax. I’m not gonna hurt you.” You swallowed back a twinge of fear, choosing to grip the soft flooring to contain your shaking. Hoseok pressed light kisses down your body until he reached your bottoms. He looked up at you for permission and it was then you finally understand his intentions. You jolted upright and pushed at his shoulders in a panic.

“No no. You um, don’t have to do that.” The sentence fumbled out, your cheeks flaming. Hoseok let out a full bellied laugh then and you just wanted to recede into a hole.

“You really are something Y/N. You’re the first girl I’ve ever met to say they didn’t want to get eaten out. That’s cute.” He shook his head, eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Don’t laugh at me you ass! It’s just-just that no one has ever done that for me before.” You slipped out from under him and curled into a ball, tucking your head into your knees. After a moment you heard Hoseok curse under his breath before you felt a touch on your shoulder. You lifted your head up hesitantly.

"Y/N. Hey. I'm sorry. Really. I was just surprised is all. It’s okay if you don’t have experience with it.” He looked sympathetic and thoughtful.

“Here, maybe this will be easier for you.” He said after a pause. You glanced over at him warily, only to see him lay flat on his back.

“Um..what are you doing?”

“Come here.” He beckoned, waving you to his side with a curl of his fingers. You sighed, rubbing at your eyes and obeyed him before you could think better of it.

“Okay, now what?”  

Hoseok splayed a hand on your thigh, rubbing the cloth material.

“First you gotta get these off.” He smiled, not moving to do so himself, but letting you make the choice. If I do this I’ll be almost completely naked. Your nerves were starting to get the better of you again. You covered your chest self consciously. Hoseok’s face took on a serious expression.

“Y/N. We don’t have to do this. As much as I would nothing more than to have you screaming my name, I’m not gonna force you into anything.” The sincerity in his voice made you feel like an ass for thinking badly of him and you nodded your head before slowly slipping off your pants. You glanced at him to see his attention fully on you. With shaky hands you made to remove your simple panties when Hoseok protested.

“Leave those on actually. Just put your legs on either side of my head.”

“Umm what the hell?” You hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

Hoseok rolled his eyes before pulling you on his chest. The skin to skin contact made you gasp and you braced yourself on his pecs, feeling lightheaded. Hoseok's large hands roamed up the back of your thighs, urging them into position around his head, his eyes black and shining. This was beyond strange to you. It seemed..rude to have your vagina so close to someone’s face.

“Relax baby.” Your muscles clenched at the nickname. You felt the probing of a finger around your pantyline and could feel the sharp inhale of air from the man underneath you.

“Mmm you have no idea how good you smell Y/N. I’ll have to thank Jungkook later for inviting me.” At the mention of the kid you scoffed but the noise turned into a shuddering gasp when Hoseok moved your underwear to the side and flattened his tongue to swipe along your folds. You nearly fell over but caught yourself by grabbing onto Hoseok’s hair. He repeated the action, eliciting a moan from your lips.

“Not so bad is it?” He asked when he came up for air. You quickly shook your head, not able to form a response. You pushed your pelvis down on his tongue, riding the wet digit as his fingers dug into the meat of your behind.

"Oh Hoseok...oh god."

He hummed, holding you closer to his face, not letting up until your legs began to shake. Your body was pulsing, alive and burning. You rotated your hips, letting out a squeal when Hoseok gave attention to your clit. You yanked hard on his scalp until he gave a short shout.

"Sorry, sorry. I got carried away." He let out a breathless laugh, massaging the outside of your thighs.

"Its okay Y/N. I don't mind a little pain." He winked, before flicking his tongue out, resuming his attentions. You rocked against him, moaning in high pitched whines, feeling a familiar stirring below until you could take no more.

           "Oh ah-ah! I think I'm gonna-"

"Come all over my face Y/N." His voice was husky, the demand giving you the push you needed to tumble over the edge. You screwed your eyes shut, mouth open soundlessly as your hips chased the electric tingling coursing through you. You felt your release slick down your thighs, and shuddered violently as Hoseok lapped it up reverently.

Soon his touch became too much however, and you weakly rolled off of him, your body jelly on the floor. Your chest heaved and you briefly wondered how you had never done anything like this before. You felt in a way, cheated.

A shadow passed over your face then  and you glanced up to see a grinning Hoseok, his chin glistening. Mother of God. He ran his tongue over his mouth, collecting the remaining juices, before placing a light peck to your lips.

"You still alive?" He laughed at your disheveled state.

"Just get down here and kiss me again." You grabbed him by his shoulder, satisfied when he was tightly pressed against you. You were both panting, pawing at every inch of skin until Hoseok pulled away to fumble with the button of his jeans. He seemed to struggle with the material, from nerves or drunkenness you couldn't tell. He cursed under his breath after a third attempt, frustration evident in the heavy breaths.

"Here let me." You deftly undid the clasp of his pants, surprised at the steadiness of your hands. Hoseok seemed sheepish, not looking at you when he tugged the item down his lean legs. You sat transfixed, watching as his boxer briefs came into view, the front bulging. Well shit.

You were both now in only your underwear and stared at each other in silence. You swallowed loudly and flicked your eyes down to the mass before you, both intimidated and aroused. You could tell he was big, the tent in his boxer briefs leaving nothing to the imagination. You reached for them but was stopped by Hoseok. He cleared his throat but his sentence still came out hoarse.

“Another time, Y/N. I just...want to be inside you. If uh, you still want to.” He quickly added, scratching his head with his free hand. You smiled at his thoughtfulness, and leaned back to mimic his position earlier.

“I’m all yours.”

Teeth clashed together in a frenzy, tongues teasing and tasting sweaty skin. Remaining undergarments were ripped off, hands only briefly exploring before impatience got the better of you two. Hoseok held himself in his hands, and suddenly rubbed the tip on your clit, shocking you enough for a thought to cross your lust clouded brain.

“Hey Hoseok, do you have any protection?” It came out almost incomprehensible you were breathing so hard.

"Ah shit. Yeah I do. Sorry I almost forgot." He patted the area around him with one hand, still holding himself in the other. His dick was stiff and bright red, leaking already. Curiously you swiped the top of it, hearing a loud hiss  from Hoseok.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He swore, finding the condom in the back of his jeans and ripping it open with his teeth. He rolled it down on himself in one fluid move before he slid between your legs, fitting himself in the v shape. He stared at the inviting image of you for a moment before using a hand to grasp your hip.

"Can I-?"

As if he needed any more permission.

"God yes."

He entered you fast and you flinched, the stretch instantly painful.

"My bad my bad, here I'll be gentler." He promised, pulling out and pushing back in at a much more comfortable pace. He stopped when his hips were flush with your thighs and took in a shuddering breath. He waited approximately five seconds until he began to thrust sharply, causing your body to slide up and down the shaggy floor. What an embarrassing way to get rug burn. You thought, reaching for Hoseok to ground yourself. He got the hint and intertwined one of your hands with his own, leaving the other to control his movements.

He wasn't overly thick but he was long, reaching places deep inside you that soon had tears springing to your eyes.

"Are you-ah, okay Y/N?" He'd noticed your emotional reaction and slowed.

"Ye-yes! Don't stop. Don't stop please!" You arched your back, shutting your eyes against the red hot sensations burning through you. You clawed at the carpet, feeling your stomach twist and your toes curl. You were already sensitive from your previous orgasm and a second one was coming fast.  You threw your head to the side, feeling utterly taken and oh so wanted.

Hoseok’s body stuttered then and his hips started to lose their rhythm.

"I don't know how much longer I'll last up here. I was already hard at the thought of seeing you tonight and then we kissed and-ugh you're so hot and wet. I just want to stay inside you forever." He was gasping, his words tumbling out in a slur, sweat caked on his tanned skin.

" I-I want to see you come again." Hoseok said suddenly, and you felt him rubbing erratically at your engorged clit.

You fell apart at his touch, bucking to meet the pleasure as your rode out your second high, only noticing that your partner was finished when he gave out a yell and was on top of you. You held him close, ignoring the twitching of your muscles in favor of burying your nose in his hair. Hoseok sighed and nuzzled your neck before pulling out of you and discarding the used rubber. He flopped down on the couch and waved you over, which you obeyed happily. You lay your head on his chest and listened to the strong thumping of his heart, wondering where in the hell you two would go from there. His fingers played in the curve of your back and you shuddered. You decided that maybe that thought could wait. 

Written by Rose 

[loveaurapearl]

Storm in the Heart

(One-shot story of Steven Universe. It takes place before Steven’s birth and is kind of a reverse of Storm in the Room. There are some head cannons and this fanfic assumed Rose and Vidalia made the painting and that they had an argument after the said painting was made.)

Rose sighed as she looked at the painting of herself hanged above the room to the inner temple and then looked at her stomach, which has increased since the six months she began to form a child in her body. A feeling of fear and regret raced her mind when she noticed Pearl’s gem on the door glowed. The door opened and the peach haired rock alien exited her room with a warm smile. The two quickly noticed each other. “Ah, Rose! It’s good to see you again. How was your trip to this Vidalia person’s place? Did you get the painting you wanted?” Pearl asked in a caring tone. The Quartz woman nodded and looked at the painting. “Yes, and it’s a beautiful piece of art. I just can’t wait for Steven or Nora to see it and appreciate all the hard work that was put into it.” Rose said with a warm voice; however, Pearl could tell her ‘friend’ was upset. “Are you okay? You didn’t look happy. Did something happen at Greg’s friend’s house?” Pearl asked. The quartz looked away and then sighed. “At first, everything was normal as I examined all her earthly objects. We talked about how wonderful how humans are, but Vidalia thought us Gems were much better since we didn’t have to go through some ‘awkward’ middle stage from baby to adult. I don’t know what exactly was so embarrassing about change, but I could tell she didn’t like talking about it and we changed to the subject to my baby. She… she tried to talk me out of having the childlike you guys, and… we ended on bad terms. I really hope I didn’t upset her too much.” The leader of the Crystal Gems stated as she sat on the warp panel. Pearl sat next to her and placed her hand on her shoulder. 

“Rose, it’ll be okay. So, what if she doesn’t agree with your ideas? You don’t need to listen to her anyway. Besides, it’s… it’s fine that you’re having this child. What matters the most is what makes you feel good.” Pearl said, trying to hide her feelings about the child. Rose looked at her friend and smiled. “Thanks, Pearl. You always know what to say to make me feel better. But… I still have her words in my head. I wish I could talk to my child's face to face right now so I could have a genuinely good time with them.” The pink-haired woman bemoaned.

“Why not use your room to create an approximation of the child? You could have all kinds of fun without losing your shapeshifted form and you could talk to the child as much as you want.” Pearl stated in a knowing voice. Rose looked at her best friend with stars in her eyes. “Oh! THANK YOU, PEARL! That’s a wonderful idea! ” She yelled as she stood up with excitement. Pearl smiled. “Oh, it’s nothing, Rose.” She began to say before noticing Rose had run off to her room. Pearl sighed in annoyance.

Meanwhile, Rose giggled as the door behind her closed. Her room was an endless pink sky and pink cloud landscape with pink clouds as the ground. She giggled as her mind raced with ideas on what her child will be like. “Hmm… should I have the room give me Steven or Nora?” She thought since it was the most important question. She thought for a moment and then decided on which gender she wanted. “Okay… Let’s try, Steven. But…what would he look like? I guess mostly like a young Greg but maybe with a lighter…no darker brown hair color and no beard.” Soon a young boy that looked exactly like a teenage Greg appeared in front of her, the only difference was his hair was a darker color. “Oh, I love the shirt, but maybe he should have clean, undamaged blue pants and pink sandals. And shape his chin to look a bit more like my own.” She said aloud and the boy suddenly had those clothes on him and adjusted his chin to look more like Steven. “Oh! I love it! But… maybe he should have a different hairstyle than from Greg. But what kind? Maybe my old Pink Diamond hairstyle but without those bits of hair poking out… OH! It’ll look like a rose from behind! You’re a genius Rose! Thank you, Rose,” She said. The boy transformed, his hair now having five bumps of hair around his head. (Think Current Steven in Steven Universe Future, but his black shirt is ripped.) “Hmmm… something’s missing. How about a jacket? A pink jacket!” She said aloud, and soon a pink jacket (that looks exactly like the one in Future and the movie) appeared on the boy. 

“Perfect! This is exactly how I want Steven to look like. Hey, I should make a jacket for my son or daughter with these exact measurements. They look so good on it. Amethyst could be the model!” She giggled. The boy giggled as well. “Thanks, mom.” He said, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment, surprising the gem. “Oh, Steven, that’s your voice. It’s a wonderful sounding voice. So strong, so majestic, I bet you would be a wonderful singer, just like your dad.” Rose said in amazement. They soon both laughed.

After a while, they calmed down and looked at each other. “Soo…. What now?” The young teen asked, not sure what to do now. Rose began to think. “Hmmm… What do a mom and son do together?” Rose asked, then a football appeared out of clouds. Rose grabs the object. “Sports, dah. Just like in those videos Greg shows me. Now, catch Steven!” She yelled, then threw the ball quite far. Steven rushed over to where the ball was going to land. “Isn’t this wonderful? I can’t believe I’m hanging out with my mom. This is just the best. I hope to have as much fun as I’m having with you as I will when I’m with the gems.” He said, then jumped up and grabbed the ball. He floats down as his shirt flapped, showing her gem on his stomach. “Oh yeah… my gem and my powers would go into you Steven…” Rose said as she realized this. Suddenly Pink Pearl appeared in front of Rose and yelled, “GO STEVEN!” Rose gasped in shock and whipped at the figure, turning it back into clouds. Steven landed and turned back to Rose. 

“Huh? Was that Pearl? She sounded different.” Steven asked, confused by the sudden sound. Rose sweated. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Everything is fine. We… still need to play more Football! I want to see you do a kick!” Rose said as she tried to distract the boy and herself from the apparition. Steven nodded and threw the ball back. Rose jumps and catches the ball easily. She then lands and swats as she placed the ball in a way for Steven to kick it. “This is exactly what we need, some good old round of sports!” Steven said, then began to run. She smiled as Steven rushed over to her. She then quickly lifts up the ball before Steven kicked it, causing him to launch into the air and then land on his back. The two soon laughed. “You have a marvelous laugh, Steven. I can’t wait for you to share this laugh with the world. And with a charming personality, I bet you will have tons of friends and lovers,” Rose said in a mischievous tone. Steven sat up and looked away, embarrassed. “Mom, you’re embarrassing me. Besides, I would rather have one person who really loves me for who I am than have a bunch of girlfriends and boyfriends that I see as toys. After all, isn’t that what you and Dad have?” The teen said with pride. Rose’s eyes watered up and she hugged the boy. “Oh, how mature and responsible you are, Steven. I really wished I had come to that conclusion sooner, but… it doesn’t matter, I’m happy, you’re happy, everyone’s happy! You’re going to grow up, big and strong, and loved, and happy, and… and… full of so many possibilities! You are going to be wonderful, Steven.” She said, then laughed.

Steven smiled and hugged her back. “Hey, want to play another game? Oh! Maybe, hide and seek!” He suggested. Rose smiled. “Sure. You go hide, and once I’m done counting to ten, I’ll find you. Just make sure you don’t disappear. That would be cheating.” She ordered. Steven nodded then ran off. Rose covered her eyes to make sure the game was fair. “Okay. 1, 2, 3, 4.” She began to count. The area shifted underneath her to a large garden with tons of vegetation, pillars, and a warp nearby. “5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10! Ready or not! Here I … The garden? Why? Why am I back here?” Rose said, the last part being stated as she uncovered her eyes and saw where she was. She then looked around and saw Spinel, smiling at her. The heart gem was trapped in vines that were wrapped around her feet, her hair was a mess, and tear marks were under her eyes. “P-Pink? PINK! Oh my stars, you’re back! You came back for me! It’s been, what about five thousand years since we last saw each other? But you came back! You’re here to rescue me!” Spinel said with excitement as she broke free from the vines. Rose froze in horror as her ‘best friend’ wrapped her wiggly arms around her. “Spinel, I’m not Pink Diamond anymore, I’m Rose. And I’m… I’m so sorry. I wish this was real. I really do, but the galaxy warp is broken. If only it wasn’t broken, then… then I could rescue you for real. I could feel happy seeing you again, but… but I know it’s not real. I know you’re not here. I… I wished I had never told you to stay in this place and rot away, but I can’t change the past and I can’t repair the warp without causing suspicion on myself. So please! Let me GO!” Rose roared, the area under her shaking, the image of Spinel dissipating, the ground broke under her, and a shock wave raced through the air. Rose covered her mouth in horror as tears fell down her eyes.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Spinel. I’m so, so sorry. Please… forgive Steven for the horrible things I did.” Rose said as she held herself as she shocked in fear. After a few seconds, she heard someone’s footsteps. She looked up and saw Steven, however, his eyes were covered in shadow. Next to him was Lion. “S-steven? Did… did you see that? I can explain. I can explain everything, just please, don’t be mad at me.” Rose panicked. Steven lifted his head, and she saw he had Pink Diamond’s eyes. Rose stiffened in fear. “Explain. That’s rich coming from you. You never explain yourself. YOU only runaway. Just like how you ran away from Homeworld and now, you’re running away from yourself to become me. You never change and you never WILL CHANGE,” He said, but it was cold and detached. He then laughed but it sounded wrong. “No! That’s wrong! I… I’m not running away! I only doing this so something brand new can be formed. Something wonderful, something spectacular. You’re going to be human, Steven. We’re going to be human. We’re going to fix everything! WE CAN CHANGE!” Rose yelled. Steven growled and walked over to her, his steps cracking the ground underneath him. “Is that ALL I AM TO YOU!? A way to fix your mistakes?! What about Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl? You’re leaving them behind! You know very well that they need you! They hang onto your every word, especially Amethyst! You haven’t even told Pearl, you’re most trusted ally, about Lion! What will she think once she learns the truth!? What will they think of you when they learn the truth about the war and you’re true identity!? What’s going to happen to them once you’re gone and I take your place?” Steven yelled. He was almost inches away from her when he stopped moving. Despite him being smaller than her, Rose was as stiff as aboard. “The … The Crystal Gems can handle themselves. They… they don’t need me. I’m just impeding them from fulfilling their dreams. Besides, Pearl won’t mind Lion. She’ll just think of him as an annoyance, just like Greg.” Rose tried to justify herself.

“What about Dad? You promised to be by his side forever, but now he’s going to have to raise me up all by himself. The gems don’t know how to take care of me, especially once I start showing my powers! And Dad won’t know how to deal with me once that happens! You don’t even know if I will even get any powers! I’ll JUST BE USELESS!” Steven yelled. Rose grabbed her head. It was starting to pound. “Steven, it… it won’t matter. You’re going to be human. Being human is much more amazing than having these stupid powers. It… It’ll be enough. We’ll find a way to fix the corrupted gems some other way, and we can live happily ever after. And even if you do have my powers, when we’re happy, our terrible powers won’t appear, so it doesn’t matter,” Rose said as she tried to block the pain, putting up a smile. “Once everything is over, we’ll laugh, and sing, and… and be happy. We can do whatever we want.”

“What about the Diamonds? What about Spinel? What about Pink Pearl!? Are you forgetting that they are still suffering because of you? OR did you want me to fix them too!? I’ll learn the truth eventually and so will the Crystal Gems. They’ll have to face the fact that everything you told them, the war, Bismuth, your identity, IT WAS ALL A LIE!” Steven yelled, the ground cracking even more. Rose fell onto her butt. Her stomach was aching as she felt the baby inside her kicking. “Steven, please, stop! We’re wrecking this place. Besides, I had to do this. It was the only way. Spinel had to stay here otherwise; she’ll just make me look like a fool! The Diamonds never cared about me, they never cared about us! I tried talking to them, but they WOULDN’T LISTEN! Besides, the Diamonds aren’t coming back to this planet! After they corrupted the gems, they ran off to conquer more plants! So why should they care about a place like this!? And it’s too late to tell the gems about my identity, otherwise, they’ll just fear and hate you if I do it now!” Rose yelled. Steven growled and stood over her. “Don’t lie to me, mother. You know very well the diamonds will come back. You’re just too afraid to admit it. They’ll come back, and so on; everyone will see you as you truly are. A weak, pathetic monster trying to hide from the mess you’ve made. And I’ll be the one who’ll have to fix it.” Steven said as his eyes became covered in shadows.

“Please… please, Steven. Stop saying these awful things. Everything, everything will be alright. Y-you know in your heart that I love you. Y-you know that everything will be fine in the end, b-because you’re Steven Universe. And… and things will be alright. We… we can do this. Just, please, STOP!” Rose yelled, her voice becoming a young Steven at the end. Rose covered her mouth and began to cry as the child inside her stopped kicking for a while. Rose looked up and saw Steven crying as well, his eye returned to ‘normal’. The room had become clouds again and it had begun to rain. Rose got up and hugged the boy. “I’m… I’m sorry, Steven. I never wanted this to get out of hand as they did. But… but I’m just… afraid. I’m afraid of you hating me and yourself for us being like this. I hate myself for being this… thing. I hate that I left Spinel alone and now can’t go back to get her. I hate that I caused the war and that I lie to my friends. I hate myself for locking Bismuth away. I… I thought if I ended being Pink Diamond, the pain, the agony, our suffering would stop. I could stop lying to my friends and we could stop the diamonds and unbubble Bismuth. But then the diamonds corrupted my friends and… and it was too late to reveal the truth. I’m afraid of Bismuth hurting everyone and trying to shatter me and you. I’m afraid of the Crystal gems giving up on us and running away. I’m afraid of being seen as Pink Diamond and hurting my friends again. I don’t want to be so awful. I just want to be happy which is why… I want to be you, Steven, SO much. You can change, Steven. You can FIX EVERYTHING! You can get through to people in ways I will never be able to. You can change people’s minds. You don’t need to be afraid of the truth or of the Diamonds hurting us anymore. I… I just… want you to be happy. I want you to love yourself. I’m sorry that your mom is stuck as this broken, unfixable mess and… I wish that wasn’t the case.” Rose said as she hugged her son, her voice had returned to normal. She felt the boy hug her back. “Mom… I… I love, you,” He said, sorrowful. Rose sheds a tear. “I… I love you too Steven. I just hope, the real you will say the same thing.” She said as the rain lightened up.

“I’m going to miss you, mom,” Steven said as he looked at her. Rose softly laughed. “I’m going to miss everyone, Steven. But… we’re going to fix things. We’re going to be fully happy soon, and… and we will have a happily ever after.” She said with a smile. Steven smiled then dissipated into clouds. Rose lifted her hand forward and caught the last bit of rain. Rose hugged herself as the door leading out appeared. Rose exited her room and saw Greg sitting at the edge of the cave entrance with a guitar in his hands, which surprised her. “Oh! Greg, what are you doing here right now?” She asked. The man chuckled as he noticed her. “Heya Rose, how are you? Hey… were you crying?” Greg asked as he noticed the remnants of tears on her face. Rose whipped them off. “I’m fine. I… was just thinking about how wonderful our little child will be after my visit to Vidalia. I was thinking about all the possible opportunities he could be apart of and… I was afraid if he would like me or not.” Rose said, a bit of the truth leaking out as she looked to the side.

“Did you and Vidalia get into a fight? She called me a bit earlier about to say something before congratulating me on our child. I didn’t think of it at the time, but if you’re upset too, then maybe Vidalia was trying to tell me about said incident before changing her mind. If so, I gotta say, that was actually quite mature for her to do.” Greg said. Rose looked at the man. “Y-yes. We did have a fight. Vidalia wasn’t … so sure if I would be a good mother or not to our son. She thought I was selfish, immature, and a brat. I’m not so sure about it myself. I went to my room to think it over.” Rose lied. Greg sadly smiled as he looked at his wife. “Rose, even if you are all those things, you won’t be a terrible mother to our child. As long as you are truthful, loving, and caring, ya know like you always are, then Steven or Nora will love being your child.” Greg said, causing Rose to tear up again, “Rose, are you okay?” Rose looked at the magical door and then back to Greg. She took a deep breath. “Greg… there’s something I need to tell you. I know I should have told you and the gems sooner, but… I was afraid that telling you this would convince you to not let me have our child.” Rose said. This confused the young father-to-be. “Whatever it is, Rose, I’m all ears. You shouldn’t be afraid of telling me anything.” He said with a smile.

Rose took in a deep breath. “Greg… I won’t survive having this child. Once Steven or Nora is born, I won’t exist anymore. I’ll be gone and my gem will become a part of our child. Steven or Nora will be half gem and thus will have magical abilities. You’ll have to raise them with the Crystal Gems in order to help control their power.” Rose confessed. Greg’s eyes shrank and he became wobbly. He sat down as he looked two ways as he tried to process what he had just heard. Rose sat down next to him in worry. Greg looked at her in shock. “Wh-what!? You’re going to… So… you’re dying so our child can live! Rose, why did you do this? We could have just adopted if you wanted a child that badly. You didn’t need to sacrifice yourself.” Greg yelled, shocked and scared. Rose looked down. “Greg… I didn’t want to adopt it. It just wouldn’t feel right owning a child that wasn’t ours. Yes, we would own the child and maybe perhaps it would learn to love us, but I just… it would just feel like I was being a part of a human tradition instead of truly having a child. I have been alive for a long, long time. I have witness humans from birth to old age. I… I didn’t want to outlive our child, knowing that it even belonged to me or you. Plus, our child will be something nobody will have ever seen before. They will be extraordinary beyond belief. I just hope they will understand that I just want them to live the life they want to have.” Rose explained. Greg hugged her shoulder. 

“Honey… I… understand. I may not be a gem, but the idea of outliving your loved ones, especially your child sounds like a very scary thing. I’m not going to change your mind about your decision, I just wished you didn’t feel like you had to hide this fact from me and the others. And don’t worry about our kid, honey bun, I’ll make sure the kid will have a great time on this earth.” He said with a smile. Rose laughed. “Thanks, honey. I’m glad you understand. I just hope the gems will be as tolerant of my decision.” Rose said. Greg laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you make them understand. Besides, it’s not like we change things now.” He said. Rose nodded. “Yeah. Oh, and don’t worry about Steven or Nora hating you. Your honey bun will make sure they will understand how great you are.” Greg said with reassurance. Rose laughed. “Thanks, honey.” She said. The scene faded out.

[requiemreads]

Don’t Let Me Drown

Fandom: Marvel/The Avengers

Pairing: Peter Parker x Male!Reader

Prompt:

“Can I request an imagine where it’s after Infinity War and Peter has turned to dust and so like reader is his best friend (more than Ned sorry 🙊) and he’s waiting with Aunt May for Peter to come back from the battle (come on, we all know she knows 😂) and so when Tony comes back and breaks the news reader just breaks down and says “I never got to say goodbye.” But in the end Peter does come back and him and reader get together and it’s cute and fluffy and AHHHHH ☺️”

Authors Note:

I saw this in my requests and I know it’s a fairly new one but I instantly became drawn to it and I just had to do it right away. If this isn’t what you wanted or it is plain awful, I am so sorry. I tried my best. I also tried to make this as American as possible but with limited American knowledge due to my Britshness, it didn’t go down well.

Word Count: 1585

You were watching the news in Peter’s apartment, worried out of your mind. You had only recently found out that your best friend was Spiderman and it didn’t bother you at all, it just scared you out of your mind. All those criminals out there chasing after your best friend with nothing to protect him apart from webs he’d made himself in a science class? Yeah, that was the reason you were always worried about him.

The last time you had seen Peter, you were both on the school bus, heading out of the state on a school field trip when Ned got distracted by a giant circle made of metal flying through the air. You all had no idea what was going on and before you could even react, everyone was pushing you out of the way to see what was happening out of the window. You glanced over at Peter with furrowed eyebrows and saw that he was picking his bag up and getting ready to leave.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You spoke quietly to him, with wide eyes as you watched him, making sure to keep your voice down so as not to draw any attention to the two of you. Although it was probably hard to hear the two of you over the screaming and worried shouts from everybody on the bus anyway.

“What do you think? I’m going to go save the day.” Peter smiled innocently at you as he leaped through the window, using the webs from his spider suit to ease himself through the city and changing into his suit that you had grown quite accustomed to.

You sat down in the seat of the bus and looked around worriedly. The only other person who knew of Peter’s secret was Ned, but he was too busy looking out of the window to see what the giant circle in the sky was. The amount of conspiracy theories that were coming out of the teenagers mouth was more than enough to give you an even bigger headache than you already had.

As it turned out, losing somebody on a field trip was not something that was planned and as soon as everyone found out that Peter had gone, it only caused more panic within the class.

Since the bus hadn’t particularly left the city yet, you knew you could easily run back home and hide out until Peter had returned from whatever the heck, he thought he was doing. You didn’t care about the world, you didn’t care if space robots invaded the Earth. You didn’t even care for a mad-man terrorising the entire city, you cared about your dorky best friend who you were too afraid to reveal you had been crushing on him for months.

You shook your head as you also left the school bus, shaking your head as you went along with pulling the hood of your hoodie up onto your head. You had a bit of a walk until you got to your destination, but you knew that you had to get there in order to keep yourself from freaking out.

You watched the news with your head in your hands as the news announcers kept saying the same things over and over with the same footage of the giant metal circle in the sky. Nobody knew what was going on, nobody knew what was going to happen to the world. Nobody knew what was going to happen to the Avengers who you had all grown to love.

A few minutes passed and you heard screams coming from outside the window. You hurried over and saw children and parents, grandparents, pets, turning to dust. You watched horrified as there were only a few people left in the street. Cars were abandoned where the drivers had just vaporised into thin air. Babies were left howling for their mothers or fathers as they realised that their parents weren’t with them anymore.

“What is happening?” You spoke aloud, trying to just make sense of what was going on with the world.

What you really wanted to do was slap yourself awake. Surely this was just some huge, fabricated mess that his mind was playing on him. He’d wake up soon and be back on the school bus with Ned and Peter and all would be fine and dandy in the world again.

Two days.

It had been two days since Peter had disappeared and you weren’t holding it together at all.

Aunt May had decided to keep you at the apartment until you knew that your best friend was safe, that hadn’t been very easy on the both of you considering the only spare bed was Peter’s own.

The nights that you spent there were hard, you didn’t get much sleep, instead you spent the hours crying into Peter’s pillow just willing him to come home. Just willing him to come in through the door or the window and apologise for playing some sort of sick game on them or do something!

Later that day, there was a knock at the door. You perked up slightly, the bags under your eyes being extremely noticeable from your lack of sleep, only to deflate immensely at the sight of Tony Stark.

Aunt May ushered the older man inside, sitting him down on the sofa and placing a warm cup of tea in front of him. It looked like he had been through hell and back and still hadn’t found a way out.

You glanced over at him with a concerned but confused look on your face. Why was Tony Stark in Peter’s living room? Did this have something to do with Peter? Where was Peter? Was he okay? You felt your heart rate start to increase as you thought of the many possibilities as to why he was sitting on the sofa and drinking tea with shaky hands.

You worriedly looked over at Aunt May who cleared her throat and directed her gaze towards Mr. Stark.

“What do we owe the pleasure?” She spoke, wanting to sound as polite as she possibly could. It was obvious that she hadn’t been sleeping either with the bags under her eyes and the puffiness of them, she’d obviously been crying too.

“Peter… he didn’t make it…”

Hearing those words coming from Tony Stark… it was a surreal moment. You felt like the world had completely stopped. You felt like your heart was literally being ripped out of your chest. You screamed and broke down, crying on the floor. Your head was in your hands and you were sobbing uncontrollably.

“I-I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” You sobbed harder, bringing your knees up to your chest as you watched the two adults in the room look over at you with sympathy before they let their tears fall too.

It had been another two days of pure hurt. You were lying on the couch in Peter’s living room. You knew it wasn’t right to be staying there anymore. There were just too many memories of the boy you had grown to love. There were too many memories of the best friend that you had lost. You knew that you had long overstayed your welcome and knew it was time to finally go home. You didn’t know what you were going to go home to. Were you going to be met with your family? Did they disappear, just like the people in the street had?

You sighed as you thanked Aunt May for the hospitality and letting him stay for so long before you opened the door...

You opened the door to see a worn-out Peter Parker ready to knock on the door.

You quickly turned back to Aunt May who had a look of shock on her face. Okay, so it wasn’t just you hallucinating or having your mind play tricks on you… Peter… Peter was alive.

“I swear to God, Peter. If you ever, ever do that again. I will kill you myself. Don’t die on us! Don’t let us think that you’d died!” You broke down once more as you pulled Peter in for a hug, not wanting to let the other male go. You felt relieved knowing that he was there, you could actually hug him. He wasn’t a fignment of your imagination after all.

“Y/N… if you were to kill me then I’d be dead…” Peter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he burst out laughing, hugging you tightly in return.

“I-I thought you were gone. I thought I wasn’t ever going to see you again. I thought that I’d have to find a new best friend and a new everything. You were the first person to help me and-and I know that you’re some big superhero now, but you’re still my best friend before any of that.. and I love you!”

Your eyes widened as you realised what you’d just admitted, pulling away from Peter quickly no matter how hard it hurt to.

All Peter did was give you a knowing smile.

“Well, Y/N, if it took you thinking I was dead to get you to admit you had feelings for me then I could’ve just done it sooner.”

You shook your head as you smiled widely before leaning up and giving Peter a kiss on the lips.

You didn’t know what the future would hold for the both of you but you knew that as long as you had Peter in it, it would be amazing.

[movedvalkyriesryde]

Masked Man Part Five

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Summary: An assassination attempt on who was thought to be her father’s killer brings information to light that could tear apart Y/N’s only family. The only one who seems to be able to help her is the man who her brother seemingly wants killed. FINALE

Word count: 2352

Warnings: Post Endgame (RIP faves), mention of abusive family,

A/N: Last part yayy! This has been such an amazing fic to write and it just came from a story that was stuck in my head. I want to thank everyone who has read, liked or reblogged Masked Man. You’re support has been so incredible I didn’t expect anyone to read it let alone like it! Of course a special thank you to those who gave feedback and the three amazing people on my taglist! You’re absolutely incredible!!

A/N 2: Now that this is done I have 3/4 more fics I’m working on but feel free to request anything for the marvel cast (Peter Parker and Bucky Barnes mainly) :D

Masterlist

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

2 Months Later

“How have you been feeling this week?” Y/N as sat in her therapist’s office like she was every Wednesday morning since Germany. Sam had told her it was mandatory. It’d been a hard adjustment falling into the routine of the compound but she had help. When she was up to it she joined Bucky or Wanda at the gym. She worked with Bucky to train her skills so that if need be she was more than capable of defending herself and on other days she worked with Wanda to gain control over her powers. Sam and Y/N joined each other to continue combing through her father’s work as well. Bucky and Y/N though had fallen into a routine themselves. On good days they would have breakfast and dinner together, Bucky would convince her to help him with his chickens and she would be happy. On bad days, she often would seclude herself in her room, Bucky learnt quickly that he had to let her be, she would come to him when she was ready. That didn’t stop the supersoldier from checking up on her every hour, making sure she had plenty to drink, eat and keep her entertained. He was keeping his promise to her to protect and be there for her. Sam teased him to no end but it didn’t mind Bucky, he was happy, for once god he was so happy, even with the pull in his heart that he wanted more.

“I’ve been good. I have been trying to allow myself to be happy and it’s happening more often now. I don’t feel so alone or isolated as much.” The therapist nodded along to her words.

“And the move? Are you still set on leaving the compound?”  Y/N nodded, she was.

“I need to learn to be by myself, I need to find out who that person is and I think this is the best way to do it. I’m not leaving completely but I need to be able to not rely on others.”

“Does Bucky know?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Y/N shifted in her seat. Sam had been pestering her to tell Bucky for weeks now but she couldn’t bring herself to do it,

“I don’t know how he’ll react. He’s been so kind to me and in return I’m leaving.” The therapist, Dr Marshall, held her mouth in a tight line.

“But you still want to go? This is what’s best for you? Surely he would understand.” Y/N nodded again, she moved on Saturday. She had to tell him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thursday nights were reserved for movie night for Bucky and Y/N. They had claimed the night early on. For once Bucky was showing someone movies they’d never seen. Will had sheltered Y/N from so much that every time they watched a new film she felt a little freer. They sat side by side in the lounge area, Y/N’s eyes were glued to the popcorn on her lap while Bucky discussed which movies they would watch tonight.

“Y/N? You there? I asked you which you wanted?” He waved his hand across her face catching the girl’s attention.

“Uh yea whatever you pick.” She gave him a soft smile. He nodded picking the first of his options. Something didn’t feel right, Y/N had seemed off since her session yesterday. He didn’t think much of it at first, thinking a bad day was coming. But today was different there was no signs that she was having a bad day. Yet her smile never reached her eyes and she seemed distant, but only from him.

“Bucky can I tell you something??” Bucky turned towards Y/N as she placed the bowl of popcorn on the table. She took a deep breath. “I’m moving out of the compound on Saturday. Sam has set me up with an apartment and bank account and I know this is sudden, I was so scared to tell you.” She rushed the words out so fast Bucky thought he had misheard her but the way she avoided his eye told him he hadn’t.

“Since when?” Saturday?? Why didn’t she talk to him first? WHy was he only finding out now? He though they were closer than that,

“About three weeks ago.” Y/N still didn’t look at him she knew he was mad by the way he repeated her words through gritted teeth. Bucky stood up, throwing the remote onto the couch. He didn’t want to be here anymore, he was angry and he didn’t want to take it out on her.

“All of a sudden I don’t feel like watching a movie.” He muttered before storming out.Y/N called out to him but he pushed it away. He needed to get his anger out, punch something, yell at someone. He was hurt, of course he was. He thought, a small part of him thought, she was going to tell him she had feelings for him like he did for her. But that would be a happy ending and Bucky doesn’t get those.

“SAM OPEN UP!” He banged his fists against the door, only stopping when Same pulled it open. Bucky crashed through him standing in the middle of Sam’s room.

“Were you ever going to tell me she was leaving?” He yelled as Sam closed the door and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was having such a relaxing night up until this point.

“It wasn’t my place to tell. I tried to get her to tell you sooner but she was too scared of how you’d react.” Sam sighed thinking maybe she was right. Bucky leaned against the couch, his body tense but slowly the anger was subsiding. “Did you even let her tell you why?” Bucky looked at Sam sheepishly who would only sigh again in response before lowering himself into the armchair.

“She doesn’t know who she is by herself, she’s never been on her one. She wants to find out. I think it’ll be good for her.” Sam picked his words carefully wanting Bucky to understand why Y/N was moving. Bucky walked out of the room to his own in a defeated huff. Sam moved to his bed, falling onto it with a groan. “Maybe you should talk to each other!” He yelled into the empty room.

Bucky couldn’t sleep that night. His mind was fall of Y/N and what would happen if she left. If he had stayed to talk or listen to either Y/N or Sam he would have found out that Y/N’s new apartment was near his old neighborhood in Brooklyn; that she would still be training with them three days a week and that Sam had made her promise to come round for dinner at least once a week. But he didn’t stay and listen, he ran and hid in his room to be stuck with his thoughts. He had grown so used to seeing her everyday that the thought of her leaving made him feel empty. He had heard what Sam said, it was what was best for her, and a part of him agreed. A much bigger part of him thought that maybe he was what was best for her.

It was Saturday morning and Bucky had avoided Y/N all day Friday. She let him, figuring he would come around at least to say goodbye in the morning, he didn’t. Not because he didn’t want to, he’d just slept in. Bucky had slept so little the past two nights, if at all, that his body forced sleep on him and he didn’t wake up until after Y/N and Sam had left. When he finally had woken up at 10am he thought he’d lost his chance, until he saw the message from Sam, nothing but an address.

“I really thought he’d come around sooner Y/N” Sam placed his drink bottle back on the counter before moving to Y/N who handed him another box.

“It’s fine, I’ll try and talk to him tonight before dinner, hopefully he’ll open the door.” There was a sad look in her eyes, she really Bucky would have been here to help, she wanted to do this with him. Not that Sam, wasn’t good company or anything, but she’d hoped she would be able to do this with the man who helped her get here.

The two continued moving boxes from the truck to the hallway and then to their respective areas. Sam had decided that she needed every piece of furniture known to man and that they should be put together in the apartment. The boxes of furniture and kitchenware outnumbered the boxes of her possessions about 4:1.

Bucky skipped up the stairs of the apartment building shipping two at a time. He’s decided that he was being ridiculous. He would still see her, they would still have movie nights and he was determined to make it work if it meant he would still see Y/N. It was easy to find which apartment was hers. The open door and pile of boxes in the hallway gave it away. Bucky leaned against the door frame, Sam nodded hello while he sat on the floor trying (and failing) to put together a coffee table. Y/N hadn’t seen him, her back turned away while putting away the plates.

“Do you need a hand?” He cleared his throat as she whipped around to face him. A small smile on his face while Y/N was beaming.

“You came.” She whispered leaning her hand on the counter. She wanted to hug him but she wasn’t sure if he wanted that too, if only she knew.

“I uh think I left some stuff in the truck.” Sam was not subtle as he walked out of the door wiggling his eyebrows at Bucky who watched the man leave, a silent thank you nod for leaving them alone.

“Couldn’t trust Sam putting together furniture.” Bucky’s smile widened as she laughed, he loved that laugh. “I also wanted to apologize for my behaviour.” He took a step closer to her running his hands through his hair and lancing at his feet.

“Don’t apologize Bucky, I should have told you sooner. I’m the one that’s sorry.” She took a step as well until they were almost chest to chest, her eyes moved between his and his lips while he did the same.

“Just didn’t like the idea of not being able to see you everyday doll.” He licked his lips before offering her a sheepish smile.

“We’ll still have movie nights, training and Sam made me promise to come round for dinner every week. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” A laugh escaped him, of course she’d planned it out. Y/N looked down at her feet, she felt shy, he was looking at her with such admiration that she didn’t know how to react. Bucky reached up to push a piece of her hair back lifting her head back up to him in the process. His hand lingered against her cheek softly.

“Could even show you around the place, I happen to know the area.” He leaned in slowly, she could feel each breath he took on her face, his fingers brushing lightly across her cheek still. “Does that sound like a plan doll?” She nodded slightly before finally they touched with a soft but desperate kiss. Bucky’s hand held her cheek and his other made its way around her waist. Y/N immediately went to wrap her arms around his neck. They both smiled into it, they didn’t want to stop but eventually one needs to take a breath. They pulled back every so slightly.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.” Y/N laughed at the comment and the goofy smile that Bucky wore because of it. He wrapped both arms around her waist pulling her as close to him as possible, a chuckle escaping him as well.

“You’ll have to make up for lost time then won’t you.” Bucky erupted in laughter promising he would. A clear of someone’s throat pulled them out of their own little world. Sam stood by the door keys and jacket in hand.

“Right, looks like you two have things sorted so I’ll just go now.” He shifted from foot to foot, with a quick goodbye, a thank you and a ‘see you tonight’ Sam was gone and it was just the two of them again.

Bucky turned to Y/N a smile spread across his face he reached for her hand and pulled her back into him.

“Put me to work boss.” All she could do was laugh giving him a small kiss before stepping back much to Bucky’s dismay.

“You can finish the coffee table please.” He hadn’t actually meant it, he wanted to keep kissing her and holding her so he was slightly taken aback at her request but obliged anyway. The faster this was done the sooner they could get back to the fun stuff.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“So how has your first week out of the compound been?” Wednesday morning and Y/N was once again sat in Dr Marshall’s office. A small smile spread across her face as she thought about the last few days.

“It doesn’t even feel like I left. It’s been better. I don’t have to set aside moments to feel happy because they just happen. I feel free to be myself.” And that was the truth, she was free. Free to make her own decisions and live how she wanted. She was finally the hero her father wanted her to be (well hero in training), she was on Captain America’s team. She was happy. She was happy when Bucky pulled her onto his lap while watching TV. She was happy when he put his hand on her knee during dinner. She didn’t have to allow herself time to be happy because it came naturally to her. The masked man made her happy. The masked man saved her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Taglist:

@no-regrets-just-confusion @rebeccawozwhere @s-trawberryv-eins

[kitsunetsuki-miko]

Title: The Priestess who became a Fox Writor: riddelllee​ Commissioned by: Mother of all Monsters Summary: What are you, child of Inari? Rated: M Warnings: Violence, mentions of abuse Website: [Link] Disclaimer: Mother of all Monster owns this character and the story behind her

She heard their words drift aimless and unfocused, echoing off bamboo screen doors to settle like knives at her throat. Marriage. It’s the one thing Hatajinko Ai never imagined for herself—her parents, on the other hand, thought differently.

Do you not see how I tend the Shrine?

She had dedicated her life to the Hatajinko Inari Shrine, an act she had never decided but always known to be true in her heart. Ai looked up into the faces of her parents. Shouhei and his wife Hitomi had never known what to do with her. Her father may have been the Head Priest of the shrine, but Ai had done his duties for the last week. She had done everyone’s duties. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t inherit the shrine, but she had tried to make the best of it.

In her hand, she clutched the acceptance letter to Kannushi like a lifeline.

“We’ve arranged a meeting with the Minamoto family later this week. Perhaps that will give you enough time to make yourself presentable,” her father said as if her unbrushed hair would be a deal breaker.

Even if it was, she didn’t want the marriage anyway.

“I just finished my exams for Kannushi,” she stammered.

Her father went on as if she hadn’t spoken, talking of the conversation he’d had with Minamoto-san, the opportunity for her to begin her life, and how fulfilling she was sure to find marriage. It coiled in her stomach, a rippling shudder that pricked the hair along her arms. And then she was looking into Shouhei’s face and the words slipped past her lips before she could stop them.

“I can’t get married. I’m going to Kannushi and getting a degree.”

“Ai,” her mother chided, shaking her head impatiently. “You don’t need a degree. Minamoto-kun will take care of everything, he’s going to inherit his father’s shrine and—”

“No.”

The word rang imposing and unwelcome in the space as if she had uttered a disgusting swearword instead. Smack—her father backhanded her across the face. She stumbled back, hand rising to caress the stinging flesh, tears in her eyes as she looked up in fear at the figure of Shouhei.

He screamed red fury into her face, degrading disregard in every furious word. She was ungrateful. She should know her place. Her role would forever be subservient—Ai winced and pleaded, a supplication that he refused to answer. It didn’t matter what she thought. She was too young, too inexperienced, too stupid to understand. Her choices were stolen, her voice muted.

Am I not human, too?

He sent her to bed without dinner. She searched for her mother’s eyes in the distance—they remained fixed on a point just above the floor, unflinching resolution beneath weathered, tired eyes. Hatajinko Hitomi had accepted her fate in this world; she had no room in her heart for anyone except herself.

Ai curled up in bed, her ribcage vibrating as wracking sobs shook her bones. She squeezed her eyes shut, and lips trembling, asked for help. She didn’t want to marry someone picked out by her parents. She didn’t want the life they had shoved her into. All her life, they had treated her less like a daughter and instead like own property, the help, the maid. They had shoved a dustpan and a broom into her hands the moment she could stand, and Ai burned to think of her stolen childhood, her stolen happiness.

She was a fox in a trap. But what limb would she need to chew off to break herself free?

The following week she was a ghost, flitting in and out of rooms, avoiding the inevitable as much as possible. She couldn’t eat. She tossed and turned at night, sweat on her brow, and all the while, the fire burned. Like magma, it seeped through her veins until it scorched her skin.

Two days before she was supposed to meet her husband, she collapsed.

The physician found a fever raging and ordered immediate bed rest. The ceremony was postponed, and she breathed a little easier that night. At first. Drawn from sleep by the parched valley of her mouth, Ai rose and poured herself a glass in the cool night air.

“—This is just ridiculous. What a time for her to get sick.”

Her steps faltered as she passed by her parent’s bedroom.

“We shouldn’t have told her until the day of.”

“No use worrying about that now.”

“Well, the minute she’s well, we’ll hand her over to Minamoto-san, and finally we’ll have that girl out of our lives.”

She remained there a silent statue in the dark long after their breathing had stilled and snores filled the air. With a start, she stumbled back into her own bed, and pulling the covers around her neck, she buried her face in her hands and cried.

I’m sorry I’m such an inconvenience.

Why? Why was nothing she ever did good enough? She had done everything they had ever asked of her without question or complaint, the dutiful daughter as always, faithful to the family shrine, devout to Inari—and it wasn’t enough. She hadn’t earned their love. Her face shone with heat, sweat on her brow, her lips cracking in the desert of her fever. She had pushed herself to prove she was worthy. What a fool she was to think that love was earned. She should have realized—she had given to them every piece of her, sought to endear herself to them—but they had never given her any in return.

What had she done to deserve this? By what right did the world force her into weeping misery? She had nothing left to give, nothing left to bribe the fates to change her story. But she deserved more. She deserved more than the cold dismissive scoffs of her parents, the gloating smiles of her brother. The flames of injustice encircled her heart.

She could feel herself fading, feel the fire consuming away at her flesh. Her mind felt alive within the inferno. Where was the person to hold them accountable for these crimes? Didn’t she deserve a knight in shining armour to save her from the cruelty of the world? But there was no one coming, she had no freedom, and the taste was harsh and metallic in her mouth.

Maybe the fever would kill her—let nature take its course. But foxes would sooner chew off their paw then lie down and die.

What are you, child of Inari?

The heat burned behind her eyes. It was almost as if she could hear the God Inari echoing in the recesses of her mind.

What are you, devout priestess of the Inari shrine?

Pain blossomed, the clicking of bone scraping against bone, the long numbing ache of teeth shifting. Her blood burned, her fingernails sharpened and curled into claws. She buried her face into her pillow to drown her muffled cries as her body distorted. What was happening to her? Razor-sharp incisors grew past her gums and replaced her teeth; her sight took on a fevered haze.

What are you?

She took deep breaths, in and out—in and out, adjusting to the warmth still hovering just beneath her skin. She raised her hand; saw the curled clawed fingers, a growth of thick black hair travelling up her arms. A power she had never known before thrummed in her veins.

She emerged from her room, marvelling at the strength in her limbs. She felt like if she were to strike out with her hand she could blot the stars from the night sky. She could kick the mountains into the sea. In the darkened hallway came another sound of a door opening, and her brother stepped out.

“I thought I heard you. Feeling better then? Good, we can get rid of you tomorrow.”

He came to stand beside her, his eyes glazing over her in the dim, missing the sharpness of her teeth. He bent his head to whisper in her ear, “Just don’t cry on your wedding night. No one likes a weepy bride.”

She looked up at him, and he caught a glimpse of bloody red eyes where brown should have been. She didn’t give him a moment to wonder what it meant. In a second, she had knocked him off balance, stepping around behind him and kicking his leg out from under him. She bodily threw him down the stairs, and into the kitchen. He groaned, curling into a crumpled heap on the floor. She would come back for him later.

She pushed open the door to her parent’s bedroom.

“What’s happened?”

The noise had roused them. Shouhei turned on the lamp, and her mother screamed as she caught sight of the creature standing in the doorway. Ai saw the fear and panic in their faces and she feasted on it. She took a step toward them and relished the flinch her father gave as he stepped back.

Why don’t you love me? She wanted to scream at them, scream until the effort tore apart her throat and left her gurgling blood upon the floor. She wanted them to understand. “Why was it so hard to love me?” she cried instead, hot tears trailing down her muzzle. “Why must you control me? Why can’t you just leave me be?”

But they had no answers for her. Hitomi stared at her in unrecognizing terror. She could see her father trying to find a weapon without her notice. “You will never let me be,” she growled at them, teeth bared. “You poison everyone around you. You are dictators and fascist monsters. You want to play God. Then I guess I’ll have to play the devil.”

Her father’s warm blood drenched her fingers as she ripped out his throat. He gaped and floundered like a fish. Hitomi mumbled incoherently, frozen in fear. Ai caressed her face, leaving a stream of crimson in her wake.

“Please, Ai,” her mother begged, tears in her eyes.

“You let it happen.”

“I know—I didn’t mean to, I was just—” she trailed off as Ai hushed her softly, pressing her bloodied finger against her lips.

“You care only for your own life.”

“Please—”

“I decided to care about mine.”

Ai held onto her until the light faded from mother’s eyes. She rose from the bed and surveyed the lake of blood and body parts, breathing in the smell of death. She didn’t look back as she stepped back into the hallway, blood dripping from her claws. Black ears angled as she heard heavy breathing and straining pants—and she found her brother attempting to drag himself up the stairs. She watched his struggle for a moment, and then swooped down in a mass of black fur and crimson rain.

“Ai—” he choked as she grabbed his hair, pulling him up, a feat of strength impossible for a woman of her small stature. She slammed him back into the wall, cracking wood.

“Hello, little brother.” She stood on her tiptoes to reach his ear. “Beg me to spare your life.”

“Dad! Mom!”

“They can’t hear you anymore.”

He tried to pry off her hands, but though his nails dug into her skin until he drew blood, she didn’t let go. Instead, she slammed him against the wall again, knocking the air from his lungs.

“All you had to do was think for yourself,” she growled into his ear.

He began to scream, incoherent cries for help. It made her chuckle instead.

“I’m saving the woman you would marry,” she said with viciousness and spite in her coloured tone. And then she smashed him a third time against the wall, throwing back his head until a sickening crack reverberated from him and up her arms. He slumped to the ground, vibrant crimson blossoming across his head.

Drenched in blood, the Inari Shrine glowed in ruby fever. She had dragged the bloodied forms of her family, laid as offerings before it. She stared at their lifeless faces for a moment, at the river of red staining the stones before her. She looked up into the face of Inari, the eyes of the stone fox glowing crimson in the night.

Who are you?

She turned to look out the city lights of Kyoto, at the tall concrete buildings hiding other stories like her own. And as she descended the staircase, she decided she would paint this whole town red if she had to.

I am free.

[spongeekat]

The 6 Times Peter Wanted To Reveal his Identity (And the 1 Time He Did) Chapter 1

Chapters: 1/7 Fandom: Spider-Man - All Media Types , Deadpool - All Media Types , Marvel Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson Characters: Peter Parker, Wade Wilson, Mary Jane Watson, Eleanor Camacho Additional Tags: Spideypool Big Bang 2018 , Prompt Fill , Peter Parker Needs a Hug , Deadpool has a daughter , Hurt/Comfort , Peter has anxiety , Anxiety Attacks , Secret Identity , Identity Reveal , Peter chasing Wade Summary:

Peter is madly in love with Wade, and plans to meet him on top of his apartment building to reveal his identity. Wade thinks Peter is standing on the ledge ready to jump, and takes it upon himself to make sure he gets home safe and finds a reason to live again.

read on ao3

Masterlist Here

I’ve been sick this week and fell asleep at like 5 PM yesterday so I never got to submit my part for the Spideypool Big Bang 2018 hosted by @spideypoolfanfic​ This was my first bang and it was super well organized and super fun! 

HUGE THANK YOU to my patient ass beta @alurkerofnote​ who’s offered a LOT of help. 

This is gonna be in 7 parts, 1 chapter equaling 1 day! 

My prompts were 50 and 53; Secret Identities- Wade finds Peter on a roof and panics. It looks like that kid is about to jump.

Peter is waiting for Deadpool to confess who he is. He’s so deeply in love that it both hurts and annoys him. He wants to come clean. So why does Deadpool freak out when he sees him?

If Peter actually has the guts to reveal his identity- he isn’t sure.

#2

After a big fight in NYC, Spider-Man swings away and hides himself in a treehouse in a small garden. Ellie finds spider-Man crying his heart and soul out in her fortress.

But seriously, he’s just one spider and has worries too!

Januarys in the Bronx were some of Peter’s least favorite parts of the year. It was common knowledge that winters weren’t completely erratic in New York, though they couldn’t be described as tame either. They resided in a gray-area between, in which snow could unpredictably monopolize city blocks on any given day, yet a few layers of clothing would typically suffice for warmth when navigating the city. Still, the chill had a vicious bite to it, and it wasn’t wise to wander the streets longer than needed.

Especially not when suspended 44 feet above the street, clad only in a hasty assemblage of light winter clothes.

Yet, that’s what Peter was currently dressed in; a beanie thrown over his curly hair that would normally be standing every which way it pleased, a light hoodie that had been crumpled underneath textbooks in his backpack for hours, and a pair of worn-out jeans that had seen better days. It was a poor excuse for an outfit considering the length of time Peter had been standing on the roof of this building, and by all means of the word he was completely frozen. Still, the nip of the night wasn’t the most pressing issue on his mind at the moment.

Peter’s eyes searched the darkened alley below his feet for any sign that he should abandon his current plans and instead send himself flying back towards his meager Queens apartment twenty minutes away. An hour of of looking for a reason to leave had proven no such luck, and the 22 year old was stuck waiting to freeze to death, or for his guest of the hour to show up. Whichever happened first. He hoped he would freeze to death sooner, to save himself the horrible embarrassment he was about to go through, but his radioactive blood and slow- but present-healing factor assured that wouldn’t be happening. Instead, he was running through dialogues and scenarios in his head, hoping one would sound the most promising and he could stick with it.

“Hey, dude, it’s me!” The corner of Peter’s lips drew up in a theatrical style, and he beamed off into the empty night as if he was conversing with someone else standing right in front of him. “I know this isn’t really what you expected, but I hope that… that you… that... stupid. This is stupid. I’m stupid.” Peter’s shoulders sagged once again, and he toed a pebble until it tumbled off the ledge he was pacing on, clattering onto the fire escape below. This is a stupid plan.

The very affordable apartment building below him was quiet, and the particular apartment he had been staking out was empty. Wade wasn’t inside, likely off on one of his ethically-questionable jobs, but he would probably be back soon. He and Peter always met up sometime between 1 and 3 AM when their schedules allowed, and it was Sunday, which meant Wade was gonna come back toting fast food for the two to munch on. He was expecting Spider-Man, which would certainly put a damper on their late-night snacking, but hopefully things would go smoother than Peter feared they would go. After all, Peter was finally going to reveal his face to Wade.

It wasn’t a hasty decision. Really, Peter had been considering taking this step for years. The two had been acquaintances for 6 years, meeting just a year after the Spider had gained his super powers and taken on his hero persona. It was a terrible first meeting, and their encounters afterwards had been even more so. Somehow, between the nights of Wade annoying Peter for hours on end, accidental team ups that led to purposeful team ups, and laughter once the mercenary had learned exactly how to prod at Peter’s similarly immature sense of humor, they had become friends, and had grown close over the last 4 years. And of that time, Peter had been completely and pathetically in love with Wade for 2 years.

Wade didn’t know, of course. The only person that did was Mary Jane, after Peter ranted about his frustration with the stagnant nature of their relationship during a drunk stupor. But she was the only person Peter had told. Confessing his feelings to Wade was out of the question.  He had grown comfortable with the weird relationship that had formed between them over the time they’d spent together. They spent nearly all of their free time together, whether it was fighting on patrol or Peter accompanying Wade on missions to hold him to the ‘no-killing’ promise the ex-mercenary had made. Once patrols were done, they typically retired to a roof top to spend the night munching on late-night fast food, or to Wade’s apartment to play games and deal with open wounds that needed stitching. Wade never pushed to see Peter’s face or know his name, even if Wade hadn’t been very secretive with his own identity. But Peter knew that, no matter how close Spider-Man and Deadpool grew as friends, their relationship would never grow intimate unless Wade got to know the man behind the mask first. .

So there Peter was, anxiety bubbling hot on the surface of his skin, as he wrung his hands and tried to plan how exactly he would come out and admit he was Spider-Man.

Maybe he could do a flip iconic to Spider-Man and let Wade make his own inferences? Wade seemed to be the type to enjoy dramatic stunts. Or maybe he could introduce himself in a method similar to Tony Stark. Peter Parker: Awkward, Intelligent, Poor College Student, and Spider-Man. No, that was lamer than any of his other plans. This would be easier if he had just worn his suit and ripped off his mask, but he knew that if he had, he would have lost his nerve upon seeing him and never gone through with the reveal. He stepped up onto the ledge of the roof and looked down into the dark with a frown. His backpack containing his suit was webbed to the wall feet under him. Maybe he could just open the bag and show Wade what was inside…?

Peter didn’t have much time to decide, as a soft rattle against the brick wall opposite of him drew his attention. Leather boots were scuffling up the rungs of the ladder leading up, and Peter had to make up his mind quick. He closed his eyes and balanced on the ledge under his feet, steadying his frayed nerves. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Wade was understanding. Wade was kind. But maybe he didn’t want to know Peter’s identity? Maybe he never pushed so he wouldn’t be disappointed by the face under the mask? God, what if Wade turned and walked completely out of his life once he realized Spider-Man was a puny science nerd? The possibilities were firing off in his head, growing more intense every inch Wade grew closer. Maybe he should just jump down into the alley and take off running, and abandon this idea that somehow this would lead to something more between them. Peter didn’t even know if Wade returned his feelings.

“Don’t do it.”

Wade was a few feet behind Peter, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. His voice was lower than Peter remembered, and a bit more serious. It jarred Peter enough that he turned back to look at him, still perched on the raised borders of the roof. There he stood in his red-and-black glory, his body language tenser than normal. Peter’s mouth was too dry to talk now, panic radiating through his body in waves. He hadn’t come up with a proper plan for this conversation, and he suddenly didn’t know how to start it. His lips parted to say Wade’s name, confused by the aggressive demeanor, but the syllables died on his tongue.

Wade took a few steps that seemed almost hesitant towards Peter, reaching out a large gloved hand in his direction. Did he already know? He sure was acting weird, especially considering everything Wade did was weird. Instinctively Peter reeled back, one foot skidding against the concrete as he inched closer to the edge, the cold winter wind now flowing up through his hair.

“Uh…” Peter replied intelligently, eyes darting anywhere but that intimidating mask staring directly at him.

“Come down from there.” Wade’s hand was a few inches in front of Peter now, close enough he could comfortably reach out and grab it if he wished. And boy did he want to, but he was much too nervous and befuddled to take such a brash action. Peter was sure there was no way Wade didn’t know at this point. Why would he be acting so casual? “Trust me, things can’t be that bad. I’ve been through shit, too. But you don’t want to become another statistic.”

“What?” Now Peter was definitely lost.

“Come on.” Wade prompted again, sticking his hand so close it nearly bumped into Peter’s chest. “Not tonight. Just get down from the ledge.”

Confusion clearly etched across his expression, Peter stepped around Wade’s hand and made the jump to land on the roof. There was an audible breath of relief from behind Wade’s mask when his feet connected with the gravel. His body language seemed to loosen up, and he plopped down to sit on the ledge where Peter’s feet just were. “What’s your name?”

“P-Peter?”

“Peter.” Wade repeated back, as if he somehow could have heard the wrong thing. “That’s kinda nerdy.”

“Nerdy?” Peter said defensively, embarrassment flushing red over his frozen cheeks, darkening them further.

“Yep. I think the last Peter I met was like 50 years old.” Wade continued on, humor splaying out in every word, though Peter wasn’t laughing. “That’s like a lock-you-in-the-gym-closet kind of a name.”

“Uh-Huh. Did you just come here to make fun of my name?” Normally, Peter wouldn’t mind the teasing that Wade often times didn’t mean. But tonight, when his anxiety was so high and he had absolutely no idea what was going on, he wasn’t in the mood to get made fun of.

“No, no, of course not.” Wade was standing, now inches taller than Peter, and he took a few calm steps in his direction. “Look, I’m just a Deadpool. I know I’m not Dr. Phil. But I couldn’t just let you make some bad decision and let the world lose one more hot piece of ass.” Wade paused, groaning as if he was being scolded by himself, before he continued. “Yeah, fuck, sorry, bad timing. Anyways, I live in the area and saw you standing on the ledge, and I thought I could maybe talk you down. Dying hurts, in case you were wondering. It’s not worth it.”

Dying...hurts? Talk him down? Bad decision?

Oh.

Oh.

“ Oh.”  Everything suddenly connected and the gears started turning in Peter’s brain, followed by a bubbling panic rising up from the pits of his stomach. “No, wait, I wasn’t…” He didn’t quite know how to explain he wasn’t there to do that without completely explaining why he was up there in the first place. Any resolve he may have had earlier about revealing his superpowered persona had melted away, his plans going awry within seconds.

“Hey, I’m not judging you.” Wade insisted, taking another step closer to Peter, almost testingly, to see if he would run away. He didn’t even budge. “You’re, what, 21? In college? Living in New York? This shitty city is expensive, and paying for it all can get really overwhelming. Something happen? Parents divorce? Girlfriend left you? She’s pregnant and left you for another guy? Killing yourself seems like the only option to get back at her?”

Peter gave a weak shake of his head, finding his throat suddenly desert dry. He didn’t have time to come up with an excuse. He felt like he was barely bobbing above water. “No I…” What was he doing? “I just have...a big decision to make. You know?”

Wade gave a sympathetic nod, and moved his hand to start rubbing comforting circles into Peter’s shoulder. He could feel the steady hammer of his heart against his chest, the beat picking up nervously with Wade this close to him, staring at him. Not the mask, not Spider-Man, but Peter Parker. “Can I take you to a hospital?” He asked in a softer voice, which didn’t seem entirely possible for Wade to do. “Like I said, I’m not a therapist, but they can help you way better than the voices in my head can.”

“Hospit...Oh, no no no.” Peter held up his hands in a surrender and backed away from Wade’s grasp once more, the spot on his shoulder feeling much colder without his hand there. “No, I’m feeling a lot better. I swear. I can go home alone.”

“Do you live with anyone? Parents? Roommates?” Wade continued to press the subject, and Peter took another step back with each word, feeling smothered.

“I live with my Aunt.” Peter admitted, unsure why he was having the sudden spurt of bravery to say that even if he couldn’t tell the truth about what he’d originally come here to say. “But she’s out of the country. I’ll be okay.”

“Sorry, but I think I would kick my own ass if I let you leave alone and you put a bullet in your mouth.” Wade pulled his phone out of some pocket tucked who-knows-where on his suit, starting to type away the best he could through thick leather gloves. “Plus, I’ve gotten really into that astrological sign reading shit, and my horoscope said that today I was supposed to take action when I see things going bad. So I’m gonna take that to mean I’m your guardian angel.”

“Guardian angel?” Peter quirked an eyebrow, trying to keep the conversation from delving into an uncomfortable seriousness.

“Mhm. So my first act of Guardian Angel Goodness is to make sure you get home safe.” Wade raised the cell to his ear, the sight almost comical next to his animated mask. “Luckily, I’ve got the cutest cabbie in all of New York on speed dial. You’ll love him.”

Okay, so Peter had definitely been ready to lay it all out on the line for Wade a few minutes ago, but now everything felt like it was moving too fast. He planned to show Wade where he lived in a few weeks or months, not within minutes. But somehow, he didn’t think he’d take no for an answer right now, so Peter decided he’d have to play along. Just for now, until he found a good moment to interject and tell Wade the truth. His floundering confidence was making that difficult, however.

While Peter was lost in his thoughts, Wade had finished his conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line, and had gathered himself enough that he was tugging on Peter’s arm. “Ready?”

“Uhhh….” Peter’s eyes trailed up to Wade’s mask, his nerves firing off as the skin he touched seemed hotter than normal. “I’ll meet you down there.”

“Please don’t tell me I already fucked this up and you’re ready to take a nose-dive into the alley.” Wade groaned, his hand squeezing just a little tighter on Peter’s arm, making a shiver run up his spine.

“No, I just need to think for a second.” Wade didn’t respond, and Peter could practically see him thinking the worst. “I won’t jump. I promise, dude.”

“Okaaaaay.” Wade headed towards the fire escape from where he had first come, stooping to grab the bag of food on his way. “Just know I live around this shit hole, and your body won’t get cleaned up for like a week. I don’t really wanna smell rotten flesh around here every day.”

“Has anyone ever told you how sensitive you are?” Peter murmured.

Wade’s laugh that followed made Peter’s heart leap in his chest, but he kept a cool face. “It’s a special talent of mine.” He teased, before he slid down the ladder and disappeared in the dark.

Alone, Peter slipped to his knees, palming the darkened side of the building until his fingers brushed against the canvas of his backpack. He ripped it free of the webs, double checked that his suit was still inside, and slung it over his back. Before he headed down, however, he had to focus on pacifying his erratic heartbeat.

Disappointment was evident in his mind, in both himself, and the way the situation had played out. He’d been picturing and planning for this moment- albeit not well - for close to a year. He may have lost his resolve within seconds of seeing Wade, but there was no way he was going to let himself keep this up.

Peter had very strong feelings for Wade, beyond a stupid puppy crush, and he hoped the other maybe felt the same. He knew he had to take this step, whether it went as smoothly as he dreamed out or not, and there was no use in pretending any longer if he wanted to have a chance of progressing their relationship. .

When Peter got to the bottom rung of the ladder, however, and saw Wade holding the door to the cab open for him like the most unconventional disney prince ever, he decided it would be better to do it in a more private area, so he gave the driver his address and climbed onto the torn up upholstery.

…..

Wade, who lived in an absolute wreck of a safehouse, was unfairly unimpressed with Peter’s apartment.

It was messy, sure, but it wasn’t horrible. The dishes were only sort of piled up in the sink, and his dirty laundry was sitting in a heap in front of the TV, but with Aunt May gone Peter had had more time and freedom to be Spider-Man, and chores were the last obligation on his mind.

Not knowing this, of course, Wade made a disgusted noise as soon as they opened the door on the third story.

“What?” Peter asked self consciously, toeing off his shoes in the doorway as to not track in mud. At least he had one thing going for him. Wade didn’t seem the share the same sentiment, and he trudged right in in his dust-caked boots.

“No wonder you’re depressed. You live only slightly better than me.” Wade snorted, his mask turning every which way as he took in the plain furnishings of the living room. His thumb jut out towards the half-opened bedroom door. “This is your bedroom?”

“Yeaaah.” Peter trailed his gaze, trying to recall if he left anything incriminating on his floor. However, he definitely didn’t want images of Wade in his bedroom stuck in his head at night, so he didn’t invite him in.

Wade studied his face and walked over to Peter, gently pushing him until he fell back on his couch. “Sleeping in beds is overrated anyways. Besides, you can watch TV until I get this food reheated.” He glanced back at the screen and kicked the clothes out of the way, giving Peter a full view of it. “Blanket closet?”

“Next to the kitchen.” Peter frowned, shifting uncomfortably at the favors. “I-It’s really okay, you already helped me get home and-”

“Sssh. Just watch your show, Petey.” Wade said obnoxiously as he drug a fluffy comforter from the closet and dumped it on top of Peter’s lap. “Your microwave isn’t a disaster, too, is it?”

“Shut up. It’s fine.” Peter groaned and sunk into the comforter up to his chin. Being babied was really humiliating, but he was still working on a good time to interject his confession in a way that didn’t seem too forced.

There was a beeping indicating Wade was fiddling with his appliances in the kitchen, and Peter took the chance to close his eyes. “I’m Spider-Man.” He whispered to himself, his voice shakier and quieter with each syllable. “Surprise.”

“Hope you like Chinese.” Wade returned soon after with the bag of food, dropping the sides and silverware at Peter’s side before he handed him the foam take-out container. Peter gingerly accepted it, guilt pulling at his stomach. “I had a hot date tonight, but he didn’t show up. So you get to eat it instead.”

“I don’t wanna take y-”

“Eat it.” Wade crooned in a cartoony voice, and reached into his back pocket. He produced his phone again, tossing it at Peter, which he smoothly caught. “And give me your number.”

“Why?” Peter asked, nervous fingertips lingering over the touch screen.

“Because I’m trying to make a change in my life. I’m not the same man I was a year ago.” Wade paused, sinking down to sit on the coffee table across from Peter as it creaked under his weight. “Okay, maybe I am, but I wanna be more of a hero. And the only way I can do that is by saving people like Spider-Man would do. So I need your number, to make sure you text me at least once a day so I know you’re still alive.”

The mention of ‘Spider-Man’ had Peter’s fingers twitching again around the cracked phone case, but he couldn’t find the right way to voice his truth, so he stayed quiet instead. Hey, funny thing, that’s saving people like I would do.

“Type it.” Wade whispered in a dorky voice, pulling Peter back to the present moment. His hands moved on his own, and suddenly his actual number appeared on the phone log. There was another entry on the phone, under the name Spidey-Cakes with an eggplant emoji following. That was his burner number, luckily, with that cheap flip phone shoved somewhere in his room. Still, Wade being able to contact Peter at all hours of the day now was making him nervous. He would never catch a break.

Wade snatched the phone back with excitement after he verified Peter had, indeed, typed an actual phone number, and he plugged it into his contacts under some name Peter wasn’t aware of. He then shoved the smartphone back into his pocket, and placed one heavy hand on top of Peter’s shaking shoulder.

“I’m gonna leave because I know I’m worse company than Alec Baldwin and Adam Sandler combined, but don’t do anything drastic, okay?” Wade’s mask never changed, lifeless as always, but Peter could hear the warm smile in his voice. His heart rate picked up, the close proximity between them making his chest ache, but the fact that he hadn’t accomplished what he’d even stayed out to do was still weighing heavily in the air. He couldn’t leave off on this! He wasn’t a depressed teenager that needed babysitting. He was Spider-Man. He was Wade’s best friend. He was in love with him.

Before he knew it the mercenary was at the door, fiddling with the deadbolt to figure out how to lock it on his way out. Peter jumped, pushing the Chinese food and the blanket aside, shooting up to the flats of his feet with his eyes wide. “Deadpool.” He tried to sound firm, but his voice came out smaller than he had intended.

The mercenary looked up, finally managing to flip the deadbolt to lock so he could slam it shut behind him. “Yes, sweet pea?”

Peter’s jaw tightened, and he stood there blankly like an idiot for a solid 30 seconds. “I’m…” The words were caught in his lungs, feeling so incredibly foreign and heavy that he couldn’t get them out. He hadn’t told anyone, not even Aunt May, and Mary Jane had found out on her own. He didn’t exactly have practice with this.

“You’re…?”

Drawn back to reality as he realized he had been silent, Peter swallowed back his confession and slowly sunk back to the couch. “Thanks. For everything.” He murmured, dragging guilty eyes down to his hands.

Wade paused, then slowly crept out the door with a hop to his step. “No problem, baby boy. Stay safe. And make sure to text me tomorrow!”

The door closed hard behind Wade as he slammed it shut in an attempt to get the deadbolt to stay locked, and the silence settled over Peter like a heavy blanket. Suddenly he was alone, albeit with warm food at his side and comfortably tucked into the couch cushions. Wade was right; the idea of passing out in the living room instead of his bedroom seemed a little more enticing with every moment.

He drug the food Wade had brought him onto his lap and flipped on a cartoon. He was feeling a little tired, anyways, so patrol could wait an hour or two. The Chinese smelled amazing compared to the toaster waffles he’d been downing for days, and sleepiness hung over his eyelids.

Wade had been so incredibly sweet, Peter wasn’t sure what to do with the memory of it. Mixed emotions were plaguing his gut, but above all, it had reminded him of how intensely he had feelings for the man, and how badly he wanted to have a connection with him.

Tomorrow, he decided, he would find a way to tell him the truth.

For now, he was falling asleep to the lull of New York late night TV, the scent of Chow Mein wafting up to his nose, and the ghost of Wade’s voice calling him sweet pea playing hot in his mind.

[ohnojustimagine]

Dusk Till Dawn

Neville/Reader 3730 words; Smut

A historical vaguely medieval-ish AU with droit du seigneur.

(If you don’t know what droit du seigneur is, it’s the supposed legal or customary right of a feudal lord to have sexual relations with a vassal’s bride on her wedding night.)

***

You’ve never been one of those girls who dreams of marriage, wasting away her days with imaginings of a beautiful man on a grand, powerful steed who rides in and sweeps her away from her ordinary life. You’re far too practical for such fancies, so when your wedding day finally arrives, it’s only a small celebration, but that is all you need. The ceremony takes place at the village church, efficient and without fuss, and then afterwards you, your new husband and your respective families retreat to your uncle’s tavern for food and dancing.

As you arrive, you note that there are two royal guards from the palace loitering outside the tavern entrance, and you are well aware of the reason for their presence, but for now you pay them no mind.

The evening’s merrymaking is pleasant but not too merry, exactly as you would wish. Your father has slaughtered a pig for the occasion, and there is ale aplenty. One of your brothers plays the fiddle, and you dance with your new husband, blushing when everyone stamps their feet, encouraging the two of you to kiss.

You quickly peck each other’s lips, and the assembled guests applaud. You find such customs somewhat tiresome, but it is the traditional way. You are no romantic, having known your husband since you were both children, but he is a good, hard-working man who will treat you well, and that is all you would ask for. Perhaps you do not feel any particular thrill when you look upon his features, plain as they are, but in these troubled times you would always choose a safe, steady life over some fleeting infatuation.

The afternoon wears on, and as the dusk begins to settle in outside, the palace guards enter the room, yawning as they stare around. Your husband takes your hand, squeezing it reassuringly as the men approach you. “It’s time, miss,” one of them says, matter-of-factly, and you nod, swallowing, knowing there is no argument to be had.

You throw a wrap over your shoulders and head out into the fading light, the guards marching along either side of you. The King’s castle looms over the town, and you look up at it, the imposing towers of stone rising above you, huge and unyielding.

You have heard tell that in some realms, droit du seigneur is regarded as an old-fashioned, barbaric custom, but in your kingdom it is a long-established and unquestioned law. Every bride of the lower, indentured class is presented to the King on her wedding night, and if he chooses to make use of her, be the first to deflower her, then that is his inalienable right.

You know that while the current King views every bride, he rarely exercises his prerogative, as he is a selective man who prefers the company of woman finer than mere peasants such as yourself, but you’re still nervous, your heart beating at a rapid flutter inside your chest.

The guards do not speak as they lead you past the castle gates, making your way into the building through a hidden side entrance, climbing a long, narrow stone staircase that takes you into an open corridor. You stop in front of a large wooden door, and one of the men raps on it sharply.

An impatient-sounding voice calls out, “Enter,” and the guards open the door, motioning you inside. You note they both are resting their hands on the hilt of their swords now, as if wary that you will need further persuasion. You wonder briefly what happens to brides who choose to fight their fate, but then decide you would prefer not to be burdened with such a knowledge.

You walk into the room, guards close beside you, and observe a man, sitting behind a desk, writing. It’s the King, and in the past you have only ever seen him from a distance, dressed in his full ceremonial robes, an elaborately bejewelled crown perched atop his head, but this evening he is clad in ordinary clothes: a white shirt unlaced to expose the upper part of his broad chest, his dark hair loose, falling in waves over his shoulders.

He is not what you would call a conventionally handsome man, but his features are attractively distinctive, and there’s an air about him that many women of the kingdom seem to find appealing. Perhaps it is ego, or the simple charisma bestowed by the power he wields, but he is a man much desired, and standing before him, you feel yourself begin to understand why.

“Tonight’s bride, your majesty,” says one guard.

The King glances up, an irritated look on his face, and you’re expecting him to dismiss you with barely a wave, as you know he does most of the local girls, but his expression changes as he sees you. His eyes narrow, raking over your body with an appraising, speculative gaze.

“Well,” he says, slowly. “Are you not quite the surprise, pretty one?”

Your breath catches fast in your throat as he stands, looking you up and down.

“Take off her dress,” he orders the guards, and you start to speak, trying to say that if it is deemed necessary, you can remove your own clothes, as you would not wish for your wedding gown to be damaged, but the words are not past your lips before one of the guards is behind you, pulling away your wrap and tearing open your dress. You wince slightly upon hearing the many small buttons clatter on the flagstones as they are ripped away. Your mother spent hours sewing them, wanting your gown to be as fine as your family’s limited resources would allow.

The guard lets the dress fall to the floor, and it pools around your feet like some limp, discarded rag. You stand there in your new chemise, shivering, though the room is not cold.

“Oh yes,” the King says, quiet, almost to himself. He walks a circle around you, murmuring appreciatively.“Yes,” he repeats, more firmly. “Very nice.” He gestures nonchalantly at the guards, saying, “Take her to my chambers. I will be along shortly.”

“Yes, your majesty,” they say, each grabbing one of your arms and dragging you out of the room, so rough you struggle to stay balanced, keep pace with them. You stumble enough that your dainty wedding shoes are kicked off your feet but the guards pay no mind, marching you down the corridor until you reach another door.

One guard pushes you inside. “Wait here,” he says, forcing you further into the room. “And don’t touch anything,” he adds. He pauses for a moment, staring at your chest. Your chemise was supposed to be for your proper wedding night, with your husband, and it is of a finer material than you would ever normally wear, so thin as to be almost transparent.

You fold your arms in front of you, trying to protect the last of your modesty, and the guard licks his lips, lascivious. It is clear he wants to touch you, and you would assume he is only restraining himself for fear of angering the King. He grunts slightly, adjusting the front of his breeches, and then turns to leave.

“We’re right outside, love,” he says. “So don’t even think about trying to go anywhere.” He grins at you, exposing rotting, yellowing teeth, and you shudder as you hear the door close, a bolt sliding shut behind it.

You let out a deep, shaking breath, and look around the room. It is not quite as large as you would have expected the King’s chambers to be, but it is still most certainly bigger than your own entire home. There is a fire burning bright in the grate, and there are several large, cushioned chairs positioned in front of it. But by far the most elaborate object in the room is the bed. It is enormous; covered in fine, decorative carvings so delicate you can’t help but marvel at them, and there is a post rising from each corner, soaring high up to a curtained canopy of rich tapestries. The sheets seem to be of smooth silk, and there are thickly beautiful furs piled carelessly at the bed’s foot.

You would like to examine it more closely, perhaps see if it is as soft as it looks, but you do not dare do anything except stand meekly in the center of the room, waiting. A dreadful anticipation fills you, growing stronger by the minute, and you almost wish the King would hurry, simply so your ordeal can be done with sooner. This will all seem like some terrible dream when it is finished, you are sure, and you will return to your life, forget this night ever occurred.

But for now your fate is sealed, and when, at last, you hear the door open, you gather your courage, telling yourself that whatever is to happen, it will be over by the morning. Surely you can endure until then? You are not so certain, but there is no choice to be had.

The King enters, not saying anything as he strolls past you, seating himself on the end of the bed. You stand there, in front of him, watching as he bends to pull off his boots, tossing them aside. He sits up, leaning back on his arms, regarding you for a few long minutes, and you remain still, trembling slightly, feeling almost trapped by the intensity of his gaze.

When he finally speaks, it is to ask, “Have you remained pure for your husband?”

“Yes, majesty,” you say, and it is true. You have always found carnal temptations not so difficult to resist, preferring to focus on your future rather than distract yourself with the more fleeting, insubstantial satisfactions of the body.

The King nods, seemingly pleased. “Take that off,” he says, and you hesitate for a second or two, but there is nothing to be done, so you pull your chemise over your head, letting it fall to the floor beside you. You stand naked, fighting the urge to cover yourself, knowing that for this night, your body is not yours, belonging to the King, as is his lawful right.

He stares at you, eyes darkly menacing, moving to slowly rub the bulge that is forming in the front of his breeches, the heel of his hand stroking over it. He licks his lips, and you try to remember to keep breathing.

“On the bed for me,” he says, rising to his feet, his voice slightly hoarse. You obey, walking over, clambering up ungracefully and then lying back, the silken sheets soft as water against your skin, the sensation making you shiver, used as you are to the coarse bed coverings of your home.

Your hands are clenched at your sides, every muscle in your body stiff with tension, and you are expecting him to simply climb on top of you, forcefully have his way, but instead he sits beside you, staring down at your body. He reaches out, trailing his fingertips slowly up over your stomach, between your breasts, lingering at the base of your throat in a caress that, under any other circumstance, you would perhaps label tender.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asks.

“Yes, majesty,” you reply, truthfully.

He laughs at your answer, short and sharp. “I like that,” he says. “That you do not lie to me.”

He leans over you, pressing his mouth to yours, and while it is soft, undemanding kiss, you keep your lips closed tight, praying he will not ask for any more, wanting to avoid at least one violation on this night. But the King pulls away, looking at you.

“I hope we both understand,” he says, “that this will be far more pleasant if you do not resist me.” And there is enough of a warning in his voice that you comprehend his meaning, and this time, when he shifts towards you, you part your lips, allowing him to plunder your mouth fully, his tongue slipping inside, moving in ways you would never have even dreamed of.

When you were first betrothed, you allowed your now-husband to kiss you in this manner, but you did not enjoy it, finding his attempts clumsy and primitive, his tongue fat and lifeless in your mouth, but the King’s kiss is nothing that even resembles those efforts. This is like quicksilver, alive with warmth inside you, and you feel as if you are being consumed, in the best possible way. Your head is spinning with confusion, and, without even thinking of it, you find yourself responding in kind, your own tongue against the King’s, licking slippery and heated.

You hear yourself make a small, strange noise, and the King sits back, a bemused smirk hovering over his still-wet lips. “Perhaps you are not so innocent, then,” he says, thoughtfully, and you blush, knowing what he is intimating.

He speaks no further, pulling off his shirt, letting it fall aside as he shakes his hair back off his face, over his shoulders. His body is sculpted with muscle, more so than any working man you have ever seen, and he is strangely hairless, his skin so smoothly unmarked you cannot stop yourself from staring. For a brief moment you are tempted to touch him, suddenly somehow longing to know what such skin would feel like under your hands, but you push the thought away,

He kneels up over you, his legs at both sides of your ribcage, and unlaces his breeches, pushing them lower, revealing a thatch of dark, curly hair, and then… you swallow, trying to steady your breath as your heart begins to race, pounding inside your chest.

You’re not some sheltered princess born of nobility; you have older brothers, and you grew up on a farm with breeding animals, but still, it’s something, to see a man’s… member, you know is the more polite word, though prick or cock is what people mostly say, but to see it in this state, this close, is not a thing you have ever experienced.

It’s long and thick, jutting out from the King’s body like something proud, and he runs his hand over it, stroking from root to tip, up and down. He carelessly takes hold of your wrists with his other hand, and though his grasp is relatively loose, you can feel the strength of him, the physical power barely contained as he pins your hands over your head, leaning in, guiding it, guiding his cock you make yourself think, toward your mouth.

And it’s not… you know why you are here, and you accept that, but this is not an act you had expected would be required of you, and you can’t help panicking, struggling beneath him. You turn your face away from him, kicking your feet as best you can, arms held fast.

“Stop it,” he spits out. “Stop fussing.” He tightens his legs either side of you, keeping you in place with ease. “If I’m forced to bring the guards in to restrain you,” he threatens, “then I will let them have their way with you when I’m done, and I promise you, child, they will not be gentle.”

You still, willing yourself to calm, breathing hard, your chest rising and falling.

“There,” he says. “Good girl.” He does not release you, but for the moment he makes no further advances on you. “Have you never taken a man in your mouth before?” he asks.

“No, majesty,” you whisper. It is relatively common among the girls you know, but it is not a practice you would ever indulge in willingly.

“Well, then,” the King says. “What a find you are, my pet.” He looks down at you, a smug smile hovering brief over his features.“Perhaps we will begin more slowly,” he says. “Just a taste, yes?”

He takes hold of himself once more, drawing his cock across your lips, and you whimper with distress, but you do as you are bidden, pursing your mouth to kiss it.

“Yes,” he breathes out, encouraging. “Now suckle at it, put that pretty little tongue of yours to good use.” You inhale, steeling yourself, and do as he says, sucking at the tip, opening your mouth enough to take the topmost part of it in. It is not so bad, you think in surprise, sucking with a touch more vigor. And the act is not at all what you would have thought it to be; the taste of the King’s cock a mixture of salt and something sweet and clean, the thick feel of it in your mouth oddly natural, as if that is where it belongs.

You close your lips around the width of it, daring to move your tongue a little, unsure as to what is the proper technique, but your attempts seem to be more than acceptable, as the King moans, freeing your wrists, pushing more of himself past your lips. “Mind your teeth,” he says, and you are careful, even as his cock fills your mouth. There is a shamefully pleasurable ache beginning to throb at your core, and without thinking of it, your hands move as if of their own accord, coming to rest on the King’s thighs. You can feel the heavy bulk of him even through his breeches, and your fingers curl over his form, curious. “You like that,” says the King, softly, almost wondrously. He removes his cock from your mouth, sitting back, stroking himself once more, fist moving rapidly.

For a moment you think he is going to spend himself over your face, but instead he stops, then climbs down from the bed. He pulls off his breeches, facing away from you, and you can see the shape of his buttocks, rising high and firm behind him. His thighs are as huge and powerful as they felt under your hands, but they are smooth, hairless as his chest is. It would seem the only places where hair remains on his body are his head and beard and around his cock. It is a curious affectation, you muse to yourself, perhaps a current fashion of the nobility, but it is also strangely attractive to you.

Now fully and completely naked, he lies himself down next to you, on his side, licking his fingers thoroughly before reaching down between your legs. He smiles in delight as he feels the wetness there. “Oh,” he says, the word almost crooned. “You did like that, didn’t you?” You close your eyes, humiliated at your body’s betrayal, but the King only laughs. And yet his amusement does not seem to be unkindly meant. He is obviously gratified by your response to him, quite clearly so, and you feel the smallest, guiltiest sense of pride at being able to serve him in this manner.

His fingers explore your most private places with casually expert skill, caressing you with unhurried precision, finding the nub of your pleasure without the slightest fumbling or hesitation. He rubs circles over it with his two middle fingers, and you gasp, your hips arching up off the bed at the sensation. He watches you, your reactions, adjusting the pressure and pattern of his touch in accordance with your responses, and you can feel yourself opening up to him, the ache inside you deepening into a desperate yearning, longing for what you have never known you could need so very badly.

“Do you want me?” the King asks, and you nod in reply, unable to say the words aloud, but it seems that is answer enough, as he is quickly on top of you, positioning himself between your legs, and you swallow, trembling with nervous anticipation, breathing as you feel him, feel his cock, right there.

There’s a quick, sharp pain as he slowly enters you, but it is not so bad as you would have thought, and as he seats himself fully inside you and you adjust to the feeling, the hurt fades away to nothing, forgotten, replaced by a new, unfamiliar urgency, and you whimper, helpless to resist it.

“Oh yes,” the King says, and he begins to move his hips, cock thrusting in and out of you, the pace of it at first almost careful, but then with an increasing amount of force and speed. “God,” he mutters, licking at your neck, tongue hot and needy on your skin,“what a tight little cunt you have, pretty.” You could never have imagined you would find such crude words exciting or even flattering, but they spark something within you, and you also start to move, your body finding its own, instinctive rhythm to meet the King’s.

Something begins to build inside you, an intensity so violent it is as if you cannot contain it, and you feel as if you are balanced at the edge of a great height, about to fall but certain you will fly. You cry out as it peaks, clinging to the King as your body spasms around him, heat sparking through you.

The King throws his head back, mouth open in silent ecstasy for a long, endless moment, before his weight falls down onto you, and he lies there, spent. His hair is damp and curled with sweat, and for a minute he does not move, but then he shifts slightly, just enough for you be more comfortable beneath him.

After a little time has passed, you dare to speak. “Majesty,” you say, your voice tremulous to ask so boldly, “may I have leave to return to my husband?” You are not entirely sure you wish to depart, but you know this is merely an interlude, something that cannot last. “Now that my duty is done?”

And he does not reply, lifting his head to gaze down at you before he once more claims your mouth, wide and hungry, and this time you do not hesitate in your response to him, kissing him back with a lust and fervor equal to his own until he shifts away.

“The night,” the King says. “I have the night.” He kisses you again, fierce, almost vicious, nipping at your bottom lip with sharp teeth. “I am your master until dawn, my sweet, and my pleasure is far from being satisfied. Understood?”

“Yes, majesty,” you reply, trying to sound meek, but your blood is already aflame with anticipation, and you are impatient for more.

[cyrelia-j]

[Ficlet] A Gift for my Darling IV (mirror Garak/Bashir/Parmak)

Somehow this thing got plot-y. When it's all said and done I'll likely clean it up and throw it on AO3 in a more proper setting but sometimes I kinda regard Tumblr as like my own personal kink meme or something.

Previous parts are here:

One, Two, Three

Summary: [Dark slavefic] Julian Bashir was given to the mad Doctor Parmak as a present by his lover Garak and altered in ways that he'd find horrifying if he still had all his memories and feelings. As time has gone on Garak has to his dismay become a bigger part of the picture than he'd like. Why can't his life just be simple?

WARNINGS: non consensual body modification, body horror, slave fic, dark, mentions of violence and torture, jut some weird shit, explicit sexual content both consensual and rape/non con (I’m putting the non con warning extra here because Julian’s [unreliable] narration expresses mainly acceptance/joy about his current situation and events but it’s important to note that it's only because his mind/self has been altered into it not because he actually is/was able to consent to anything done to him), also kind of OOC that’s explained and it’s mirror universe but still yeah OOC although Mirror Julian is still a prick

For those still with me:

Julian drops the body at Garak’s feet making him jump. He stretches languidly with a loud exaggerated purr of satisfaction. “Guls! Are you trying to kill me with a heart attack now?” Garak asks looking up from the couch. It’s newly bolted down to the floor which Julian finds a bit disappointing but he has other ways to amuse himself with Garak. Doctor Parmak had scolded them both and said that the officers below were complaining about the noise. Julian asked if they couldn’t just fucking kill them and be done with it. But no, his doctor said that he and Garak (Julian laughed when Garak was included in that lecture) had to learn to have more consideration for the others on the station. Garak found some reason to have them executed a few weeks later- collusion with the Terran rebels, Julian thinks- but Doctor Parmak still ordered all the living room furniture bolted down. Julian had sulked but Garak decided to be unusually nice about it. It was a bit of a let down really.

Julian had thought perhaps with the noise complaint he might instead be permitted to spend more time with Doctor Parmak but again, the three of them just ended up moving to a larger suite of rooms. Julian doesn’t care for the smell. There’s lingering Klingon but it’s been lessening they more they use the rooms. Julian’s been spending more time out anyway. Doctor Parmak had praised him for leading them all right to the would be escapees although he admitted to his doctor later that he really had just been looking for him since The Intendant’s soiree was such a miserable affair and Garak wasn’t even playing with him or paying him any attention. Nonetheless, Doctor Parmak thought he might be able to amuse himself by monitoring the conduits and other station ducts. 

He was right, Julian has been having a bloody marvelous time. He’s made a game of it really- he mentally marks off certain “kill zones” and then waits until he sees rats scurrying about in them. At first it was merely Terrans trying to conduct some secret business here and there. But then he noticed something interesting; the Terrans had gotten wise to something up in the conduits and had taken to occasionally lure Cardassians or Klingons into them as well on the off chance that it might prove beneficial. Julian doesn’t discriminate when it comes to the kill zones. That’s what makes the game fun after all. It makes little different to him if the rats might also happen to be lizards. Though he makes sure to gift the Cardassians to Doctor Parmak; Garak doesn’t seem to appreciate being presented with the bodies of his underlings.

Julian kneels next to Garak’s legs and puts his head on his lap looking up. “Brought you a pressie,” he half sings, mouth shut, curved into a wide grin. “This ‘un wasn’t fast enough. Got ‘im by the leg then the throat. Would you like to know what I heard before I broke up their little party?” He shuts his eyes as Garak pets his head absently. “For all the good it will do since I can’t act on any of your information without compromising your spying,” Garak grumbles. “I know this one,” he says looking down at the Terran with a sneer. “He stepped on my boot once. I thought I had him killed,” he murmured absently. “Memory must be slipping in your old age, Garak. You know what they say goes next.” Garak kicks him off and Julian swats at him- carefully of course. He wouldn’t want to upset Doctor Parmak by drawing blood. Again. 

“They’ve got someone in communication with the Terran rebels in the badlands. Think I might be able to ferret out who if I make contact with them.” “Yes, I’m sure they’d be all too delighted to share their plans with the creature murdering their colleagues.” Julian shrugs. Garak’s insults don’t particularly bother him they way they used to. “They’re going to take the station sooner or later.” “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong,” Garak says with another look to the body. He stands up and gives it a good kick. “Because soon enough we’re going to have a way to find their bases.” Julian snorts looking under the sofa for the puzzle he’d been messing with earlier that morning.

“You couldn’t find eternal life with the fucking philosopher’s stone, Garak.” He gives a long catlike stretch, admiring his shiny new arms as he does. Garak had been in a mood after the prisoners escaped before. He’s thrown Julian’s arms into the smelter. Julian really had tried to rip his throat out with his teeth then. Julian likes these better. They’re lighter, they’re stronger, and he can see his reflection in the plates of them. Doctor Parmak said he was working on a synthetic skin for them too but Julian likes them the way they are. They’re beautiful. He likes switching the claws in and out.

“Don’t,” Garak warns just as Julian is about to drag them across the carpet. He rolls his eyes but obeys. “Then why don’t you give me something to do around here? Doctor Parmak can always find me something.” “You’re not spying on the Terrans. Besides, with the guest The Intendant has coming, they won’t be an issue much longer.” “Guest?” Julian asks feeling Garak start to pet up his back, pushing under his shirt. Oh that feels so nice. “Sisko’s ex wife,” Garak crows, giving Julian little scratches. Julian fucking melts. Doctor Parmak was insistent that there was something that Garak was hiding which he wouldn’t dream of sharing with his lover. Julian didn’t understand why his doctor thought that Garak would share vital operations with Julian if he wouldn’t tell him. 

But Doctor Parmak knew better and as Garak sits cross legged on the floor and continues petting him he really does tell Julian everything that he needs to know. Christ, Garak is just as fucking stupid as Julian’s always thought. His doctor is right. The Terrans will definitely want this information. A sensor array that can detect their bases would crush the rebellion where it stands. Sisko is already dead and the resistance will crumble with another blow like that. Julian purrs, rolling onto his side when Garak rolls him, his fingers playing with the sensitive scar tissue of his neck. It hurts when Garak does it too hard but he does it nice and soft this time telling him what a good kitty he is. Julian would sooner die than admit it but he might actually miss Garak a bit when they’re gone...

“You’re really going through with this?” Garak asks him with an incredulous look. Parmak leans down and turns off the sleeping Julian’s hearing. Garak only takes a moment before his eyes narrow. “And of course your pet told you everything.” Parmak shoots him a small smile. “People will say things in front of animals that they wouldn’t dream of otherwise.” He answers slowly starting to unbraid his hair. Garak watches the ritual the way he always has. “He’s not actually a cat, Kelas. I’m well aware that anything I say in front of him will go straight back to you.” Which then begs the question of why he told him in the first place. “You’ve done something to him to cause that sort of loose tongued relaxation, haven’t you?”

“Really, what haven’t I done to him? Or you... or even myself for that matter. You act as if I wouldn’t willingly sacrifice my own body for science either…” Parmak sighs and starts to unfasten his tunic. “Does it matter Elim?” Parmak stops and looks at Garak’s mouth thoughtfully. “Oh! That reminds me, you really ought to be careful about kissing him. A cat’s mouth is an unfortunate hotbed of bacteria.” Garak puts his fingers to his mouth. Sometimes they tingle when he and Julian are rough. Sometimes they burn. Now that he thinks about it… “Ulcartic virus,” Kelas supplies with a twitch of his shoulder mimicking a Terran shrug.

“Are you insa-?!” Garak immediately stops before completing that word seeing Parmak freeze. Parmak has always been somewhat sensitive about it. Garak clears his throat. “I might question your choice of modification in this instance,” he continues carefully. “You’re probably well on your way to being immune now if you aren’t already, though you do have my apologies for the illnessness you’ve suffered these past months.” Garak could complain, but he knows it’s futile. He isn’t certain that Parmak is actually capable of really feeling things like guilt. “I think it’s been quite an effective inoculation, myself.” 

Of course. Because Parmak didn’t have Julian biting, sucking, spit swapping and a million other things; despite what he says, Parmak would have been far more careful with his own body. “You’re welcome,” Parmak adds as an afterthought. “You were saying about my leaving though?” “You’re going to get us all killed,” Garak says flatly. Parmak laughs. “Mmm, no, that’s where you’re mistaken. I thought I explained it to you but perhaps you weren’t listening which was an oversight on my part I’m sure. I’m sure I shouldn’t tell you these things mid coitus. But really Elim, you’re so insatiable, when should I say them to you?”

The tunic slides from his shoulders and Parmak is right. Garak is already painfully heated by him. But Garak isn’t the one who’s insatiable. “Just because your lusts are limitless Kelas, I don’t see why you need to infect the rest of us with your Northerner’s disease.” “Don’t be such a bigot. It’s unbecoming of you. I know you all look down on us, Garak. You all find us weak because we lack your discipline of mind but you know. I like to think that we have something you Southerners lack.” Parmak pulls the undershirt off and faces him about to unfasten his trousers- but then he stops with a tilt of his head. 

Parmak watches Garak shift on the seat and he smiles, pleased at the efficacy of his little modifications. Garak really shouldn’t have invited him to share his bed so freely if he didn’t want to embrace the risk. That Garak should expect to remain in Parmak’s presence unconscious, asleep, or otherwise incapacitated, believing himself safe simply because Parmak has kept him alive far longer than any of his other lovers is laughable. Parmak has always seen the world as an endless source of things  for him to play with; whether they want it or not.

“Undress me, Elim,” he says softly with a flick of his tongue. “I think I’ve serviced you enough the last few months that it wouldn’t be untoward to expect a bit out of you in return.” Parmak waits for Garak to get on his knees and start unfastening the trousers in his place. Garak is quick, his fingers shaking as he tries to go faster. Whatever Parmak has done to him in the last few weeks, months (for all he knows the “medicine” Parmak gave to treat his “minor cold may have been it) it’s effective. “Mmm, I do adore you, Elim. You’re ambitious but not too ambitious. You’re smart but not too smart.” 

Parmak looks down at him with a gentle pet to his hair. He pushes his spectacles up. He doesn’t need to wear them any longer but he enjoys them. He enjoys the slow shuffle down the hall as the officers defer to him- as they get out of the way of the fragile old man like he was a Legate. That’s another one of Parmaks little games that he enjoys. “And you love my hair, don’t you?” It drops down his back in a fall of white, like the desert of Nokar Garak will sometimes say when he’s feeling poetic. Garak likes to hold Parmak’s hair hard while he fucks him.

“What are you planning Kelas?” Garak gasps sliding trousers down, mouth to the swollen damp scales of his ajan. “Do you promise that you’ll listen this time? I should hate to have to repeat myself though I know it’s not quite your fault I…” Parmak hisses as Garak’s tongue laps at his slit. “Don’t stop,” he rushes as Garak’s wide palms hold his hips. Garak doesn’t stop. Garak licks him again, feeling the swell of those sensitive tissues dampen his lips, feeling the tentative tip of Parmak’s prUt kissing back to his tongue. Garak sucks at it, drawing it out further, Parmak whimpering with a few stutters starts to speak. “Tss… ssss…. Hsss…” Garak feels his legs tremble, and his body may have been engineered thirty years back to its prime but he still shakes helpless when Garak puts his mouth on him or when Garak holds him down and drives into him deep. Garak might not be the genius that Parmak is, but he’s cunning where it counts and more importantly, he knows his old friend’s biggest weaknesses. He loves exploiting them ruthessly.

“Elim,” Parmak pleads, and Garak feels his knees start to buckle, feel him start to sink down, Parmak’s prUt hard, wet, almost fully everted to his mouth. Yes, he knows Parmak’s weakness alright. “Please Elim, please I need you I can’t… please fuck me please fuck me…” It’s laughable. “Please Guls I can’t-” “Oh but I thought you were going to relay the plan again for me- because I’m nowhere near your level of intellect, Doctor Parmak.” Garak sucks him hard, one hand fumbling with the buttons of his trousers. Parmak definitely did something to him because he’s not usually this immediately hard, half everted by Parmak’s taste on his tongue and his scent in the air- not unless it’s by his own design which this definitely is not. He only hopes his prUt still looks halfway normal... Ah Guls, what does it matter if he can still stick it in Parmak’s tight little ass? 

“Elim you… you knew… you knew all a…ahhh long…” Of course he did. Garak’s memory is flawless. He knows the plan. He knows that Parmak plans to give the rebels the information that he’s been trying to work out of Garak the last two weeks. He has every intention of seeing the station fall and allying with the rebels or letting them fall right into some trap so that Garak can look like a grand hero and The Intendant an incompetent keeper who needs to be replaced. And either way it saves his own miserable hide though he swears that Elim is every part of the plan. Garak isn’t so sure that he trusts him on that but- “Beg me, Kelas,” Garak rasps leaving Parmak’s trousers around his knees. His thumbs slowly circles Parmak’s chuva, dark, ridges around it flushed and swollen watching his prUt twitch, spilling sticky fluid down the tip helplessly. Parmak half collapses on top of him unbalanced and Garak shoves him backwards to the floor.

“Please… please Elim I-” “You can do better than that, Nokaran slut,” Garak hisses at him. If this is going to be one of their last encounters for a while Garak is going to make sure that Parmak doesn’t forget it any time soon. He can see the heave of Parmak’s chest excited, eager, one hand already tugging his trousers off hurriedly. His body is soft, little definition about it, having always been slim, his legs long and skinny, that small roll of stomach there in middle age all tender and delightful beneath Garak’s mouth- a typical useless scientist body really but… something about his form as a whole, about his eyes, his mouth, that obscene fall of desert white hair... 

Or better still, the sight of Parmak turned around his knees presenting for him, showing the deep pink of his filthy little hole for Garak to violate, those eyes slitted and lusty for him, that mouth open panting his name… it’s always undone him. “I need you Elim… I need you to fuck me… I need your prUt in me… I…” “Go on, slut,” Garak crawls over to him a fistful of that long thick hair, eyes swinging over the dark scales around his spine, the dark gray puffy ridges of his neck his shoulders, those weak arms trembling. “Should I make you ride me or should I take you like a bitch? My, Kelas, however do you plan on managing months… years possibly without my prUt buried deep inside you?”

Parmak opens his mouth to answer and Garak reaches forward thrusting his fingers in it roughly. “Are you going to let your little pet fuck you? Are you going to get on your knees like this for your cat and let it mount you?” Parmak sucks his fingers, biting down, teeth scraping, Garak shoving them in so far in return that he nearly gags until Garak takes them away. That extra bit of mucus makes them so nice and wet, so slick that Garak slides them both in his hole so easily. 

“You don’t need to lie to me, doctor,” Garak sneers. “Oh you’ll tell yourself that you would never lower yourself to lie with an animal. You’ll tell yourself that the wise and venerable Doctor Kelas Parmak is above such things, but I know you, Kelas and I know what a dirty Northerner slut you are.” Garak drills fingers into him, Parmak rocking back fast, frantic, keening, begging Garak for his prUt, begging for that dirty human word “cock” begging for his “prick”, begging him to fuck him any way he likes and Garak twists his fingers, feeling him clench, seeing his shoulders drop, knowing that Parmak's forearms are crossed, head bowed, chufa rubbing as he bites his lip hard.

“Elim…” hitching high, half strangled, pleading. Parmak is ready for him. Parmak is always ready for him. Garak withdraws his fingers and sucks them off loudly, letting his slick hard prUt slide over that hole. “Yes, just like this, my dear. I don’t give you more than a week without my cock before you’re sucking your little pet off in desperation for release.” “D… Ts... damn you…” Garak teases that greedy little hole letting just the tip suck in, out, hearing Parmak half sobbing as Garak just lets that wide glans open him wider. He’s right; and that’s why Parmak doesn’t even try to deny it. Because if there is one weakness that the Alliance’s most brilliant, most gifted, most deviant and depraved doctor has it’s sex; it’s being fucked. It’s being held down, drilled, pounded so raw, so hard that he can’t even breathe… Just like this.

And Garak is the best at it.

(Part 5 now up here)

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 21 – Assaults

“Phew... Phew... Phew......”

“Is there anything that concerns you, my lord?”

Lunark finally opened her mouth, unable to endure Muzaka’s endless sighs.

“It’s nothing. It’s just that...”

Muzaka dropped his head in the middle of his monologue, staging grave sorrow.

“We had such a smart, talented, competent researcher to help us to great extent. But I’ve done nothing for him. And guess what? I call myself a lord.”

Lunark wanted to assure him that he has done more than enough by not making himself an unwanted guest in the lab, but she decided not to and tuned him out.

For the past 2 days, Yuhyung had been working jointly with Adne on the QuadraNet project in the werewolf realm, without any time to catch his breath, as if his life depended on it.

And today is the day he must return to Lukedonia.

“Once you escort him to the nobles, they will take him back to Korea. Is that right?”

“You are correct. But before that comes a more important step.”

“Aye. As soon as he reaches back to Lukedonia, we can finally warm up the engines for the QuadraNet.”

Both Muzaka’s and Lunark’s faces lit up with faint anticipation as he mentioned the initiation of the network they all had been waiting for.

“Boy, nobles are surely busy. And you are surely busier.”

Lunark merely bowed her head to a pregnant comment Muzaka offered.

“So lemme ask you one more time. Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“I am simply doing my best as the warrior of wolfkind.”

“But there’s really no need for you to escort him back to nobles, is there? I mean, you’re not the only warrior we have.”

“My greatest appreciations, but I am fine, my lord.”

Muzaka’s face was marred with a mixture of gratitude and ruefulness, until it was painted with a mischievous smile.

“Or do I smell something fishy here? Why are you so eager for this project?”

“...Beg your pardon?!”

“Is there a reason why you need to excel for this project? Like, is there someone you expect to marvel at you? Hmm?”

Muzaka stared at Lunark, sweating and violently shaking her head, like a niece playing pretend at her uncle’s prank.

“T-that is nonsense, my lord.”

Lunark felt her heart sink – no, drown to the abyss of nether region upon Muzaka’s teasing. She feared for a moment that Frankenstein’s name might be brought up.

She thus determined she must and will hide her feelings more meticulously, thoroughly.

It was for more than the fear of getting teased by her fellow werewolves upon having a crush on the blonde human. She knew none of the werewolves should know about this, due to a phenomenon she witnessed two days ago when Yuhyung made it to the werewolf lab.

As soon as Yuhyung made himself available on their land, werewolves buzzed in full interest in him.

So that’s him...?

My, that is the WEAKEST-looking organism I’ve ever seen.

It’d take less than a breath to wind him up on the other side of the planet. Hehe.

In the end, Garda and Lunark, having sensed Yuhyung’s nervous apprehension of the crowd, had to intervene and make them scatter away. Nonetheless, Lunark could see and hear werewolves gossiping and chatting about the very first human to be officially invited to their domain in werewolf history.

By the way, is it just me, or is he kind of cute? He keeps jumping whenever there’s someone around.

I second that.

I would have tried hitting on him, if only he weren’t human.

And then Lunark was held captive to the chatters from young werewolf girls.

Okay, so he’s human. What about it?

I’d thought we’ve aborted anti-human propaganda by now. Remember? We even got help from a human named... Frankenstein, was it? So what about him being human?

Don’t tell me you already forgot how our lord...

Right afterwards, every mouth was sealed tight, the atmosphere rendered frigid at once. They all knew what the last speaker was about to bring up – Muzaka fell in love with a human and gave birth to a half-blood, only to meet tragic end that can by no means be defined as a mere devastation. And now every werewolf alive has come to know of such heritage the returned lord harbors.

As a result, a new, invisible, yet undeniably-there taboo rose among werewolves: love with a human.

Not that anyone dared to acknowledge such taboo, with the throne reclaimed by Muzaka.

And they had another legitimate reason to keep this new taboo legitimate.

Besides, our lord officiated it himself. Getting drunk is fine, and getting broke is fine. But getting laid with a human is not okay.

He said we should rather break a pen that belongs to a certain Mr. Bad Boy and fling it in his face.

I wonder what that means, by the way.

Since love with a human is not strictly illegal, nobody would banish Lunark for her feelings. Nonetheless, she could not even imagine what everyone would be like once it is known that her heart has been stolen by a human.

‘There’s no way I want them to find out,’ Lunark thought.

However, at the same time, she wished she could make it official. She wished she could walk hand-in-hand with her knight, under everyone’s blessing.

‘What are you thinking, Lunark? You don’t even know whether he’ll reciprocate.’

Lunark had to wrestle with her inner voice, until the time has come to take Yuhyung away.

“Thank you for everything. I don’t know how to repay you.”

“I-it’s nothing, really! I... I was honored to provide help.”

“Sure. Once the QuadraNet is alive, and once you make it back home, please send my regards to my pal.”

After sharing his good-bye with Muzaka, Adne, and the rest of the werewolf doctors and researchers, Yuhyung tagged Lunark towards the boundaries of werewolf realm. He had thought this trip would be peaceful, albeit brief.

How wrong he was, for this time he found himself two companions, excluding Lunark.

“I see no reason for you guys to escort us.”

“Escort my rear end.”

“We’re taking a walk before going on a patrol, that’s all.”

Kentas and Dorant very nonchalantly replied.

Lunark glanced at Yuhyung, for she feared the puny human would be suffering from pressure of being shepherded by two werewolf warriors. Her fear was proven authentic, his face about to blow up.

Pushing down a sigh, she looked around at her fellow warriors.

“We’ll take off from here. It can’t hurt to hurry, can it?”

She was addressing all three men, and they agreed with a nod.

Once Lunark and Yuhyung were gone, Kentas and Dorant began their usual patrol. It took less than 10 minutes for them to meet up where they first split up.

“All clear.”

“Same here.”

“Now let’s go back.”

“Contrary to my fear, our land can’t be quieter. And that’s a good thing.”

“You can say that again. I couldn’t ask for more if things are kept this wa...?”

Dorant flinched in the middle of his sentence. He heard something he should not possibly and cannot possibly hear at the moment – a whirring alarm that signals intruders at the boundaries of their land.

He realized he was not imagining things the moment he and Kenta leapt from where they stood, when with a bam the ground was shattered.

In midst of a hazy pillar of particles of dirt and earth that soared from where they were a second ago, Kentas and Dorant sharpened their eyes to locate the cause of this.

“What the...?”

Kentas moaned in dismay, while Dorant fastened his lips and glared at their target – or targets.

Before them were slender silhouettes of identical colors, details, and designs, as if they were born from the same mold. It was so very obvious they were a walking epitome of human biotechnology.

Had Lunark left a tad later, and had she beheld these four figures, she would have demonstrated a backflip with her eyes and immediately identified them as weapons created specially against heads of noble clans – the ones handcrafted by the 9th Elder and Ignes Kravei.

*****

Meanwhile, a rocky island near Lukedonia

He knew he should have visited sooner. Although he had been busy ever since his return to Lukedonia, he knew it was an excuse. Moreover, he could not find courage to pay a visit.

He could feel guilt sweeping over him as he stood, partially because he could not make his appearance before this one, and partially because the reason why he visited was not exactly for the sake of paying his proper respect.

“Razark... What am I supposed to do?”

His tone, voice, eyes – they were all plastered with despair.

His hair was still donned in the fashion reminiscent of Razark, just like he did for the night when Deneb Illiness invited Seira.

“I want to be like you... I’m trying to be like you. But I can’t.”

Rael shut his eyes tight as he lamented.

“The patriarchs found me today, and they... They told me... (Rael sighed as deeply as he could.) They told me to ask for Seira’s hand in marriage.”

Rael’s mind swung back to what had happened before he made his way to the rendezvous to pick up Yuhyung.

We hear that a handful of nobles are approaching Seira for her affection.

Deneb Illiness in particular is the most ardent pursuer.

And I see no reason why Kertia should fall behind.

Rael almost jumped out of his skin as he denied joining the pursuers.

He could still remember what he had yelled in Seira’s presence the last time they had met. More importantly, he had no intention of taking Seira’s side this way.

Why, you should be glad, sir.

You will finally get to make the girl yours.

He almost lost it when the patriarchs reprimanded him, but he could not bring himself to actually lose it. He was reminded of the days when he claimed Seira will be his.

Rather than accusing the patriarchs of bringing up such an atrocious idea, he was made immobile in order to curse his past self. By the time he broke free from his resentful reverie, patriarchs were already gone, demanding him to write a marital letter to Seira.

“I know the idea is hideous, not meant to be realized. But you know what...? The idea came up that if I do as they say, they might come to respect me a little.”

Rael minced his lips with his teeth, to the point of almost ripping them apart.

“I know. I’m such a despicable excuse of a noblekind.”

I don’t deserve to be your brother.

I don’t deserve the name of Kertia.

I never deserved to be the head of a clan.

However, Rael was not given the time to spill his self-derision, when he turned rigid as he conceived a murderous presence.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Three objects landed within his identifiable range, with a sound effect that no ordinary life form can dispense.

His instinct screaming at him that it is time for a battle, Rael wiped off in a flash the anguish that was rooted to the core of his facial muscles. He slipped his mask on before he turned his eyes to see how thick is the skin of intruders that dared to challenge him where his brother fell asleep. And his eyes bulked up to twice as their normal sizes.

“How can this be...?”

The colors were different, but the designs were unmistakable. He remembered them; they were the weapons created specially against heads of noble clans.

Ones that Ignes brought with her upon her first visit to Korea. Ones that he had fought himself.

(next chapter)

Yep - it’s time for some fights and dangers. After all, this is a Noblesse fic lol. However, the battle in next chapter will come with a tiny surprise unforeseen in the original webtoon. Find out what it’s like next week!

And one more thing - it’s revealed that Muzaka has come to harbor a very negative stance regarding relationship with human (in fact, he even said it himself that they should rather break Frankie’s pen and fling its pieces in his face lol). This will work as another influence on Lunark’s future relationship with Frankenstein, and I can’t wait to write about it!