#lightning fast reply bc i scream

[ch4nticle]

Miriam nearly stabs the needle straight into her fingertips at the sound of screams. Her stomach drops, embroidery abandoned in favor of sprinting toward the library. She can hear other footsteps too, but bursting into the room her focus is immediately drawn sharply to Kasaanda. The arithmetic of it all is quickly done, each overturned chair and the sizzle of chaos in the air - and she wishes, briefly, Emmrich were here instead. He'd had some business back at the Necropolis, surely he'd be better.

Well, they'd simply have to make do.

Motioning to the others who had run in - Taash and Lucanis, having been engrossed in some conversation - to remain where they were, Miriam moves down the staircase silently and comes to a stop in front of Kasaanda. She did not know, really, what it was to have been without magic and suddenly have it. But she did know ( as many mages did, she was certain ) what it was to lose control. She breathes in, then out:

❝ Kasaanda, ❞ Miriam's voice is low, but light and measured, an attempt at cutting through the panic. ❝ Look at me. ❞

The shriek that resounds within the lighthouse could practically pierce the veil itself. Shrill and panicked followed by pressured qunlat and the crashing of something heavy. At the center of the chaos Kasaanda is crouched, body pressed close to the bookshelf that remains upright. Half the mismatched chairs that normally surround the central table are overturned and scattered through the room.

A small scorch mark colors the floor in front of the child soot black as electricity dances along her fingertips. Her hands are held as far from her body as she can manage as she pushes her back against the old polished wood.

“No, no, no, no!”

STARTER FOR @chanticle

[cafeinthemoon]

More Myself Than I Am - Chapter V

Chapter 5/?

Wordcount 2,9k

Title Rashomon

Fandom Bungo Stray Dogs

Pairing Ryuunosuke Akutagawa X reader

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: implied violent death

Tagging @lasidollily @darling-imobsessed @samyayaya  (if you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just send an ask or a message 😉)

N. A.: So finally, after several months and with a bunch of other projects to occupy my time, I managed to finish this chapter! I'm so happy! I was a bit hard to work on it bc there were details I've completely forgot about, given the time I've spent away from this story, but it's finally here. In this one, we will have the direct continuation of the previous chapter, and great revelations to reader...

Hope you enjoy it and I'm sorry for all ths time without updates XD

You had no time to turn and look at him.

Something fast, sharp made its way toward you with the power of a lightning and wrapped itself around you before you could think of pushing or stopping it. You looked down and saw what reminded you of a black stripe on your waist; it pulled you behind, and in a split second you found yourself breathless, trembling in your friend’s arms, your ability deactivating by the startle and the exhaustion.

The next thing you remembered was Akutagawa summoning more of those shadows against the men, the stripes widening to block your peripheral sight. The vivid sound of flesh being pierced and sliced was heard, followed by suffocated screams of fear and despair. The stripes came back to their place with a swoosh and disappeared, and then there was silence.

You were still unable to move, only standing thanks to his grip. You didn’t dare look at your adversaries now – or what was left of them – and were satisfied in just imagining what might happened. At least you no longer had to worry.

Now, you needed to focus on the things you just found out.

First, your brother-in-law was a terrible person, involved in activities with high probability of being illegal. Second, your family was now in danger, and you couldn’t do anything for them when you yourself were in a much worse situation. Finally, the man with whom you were about to have a date was an esper just like you. You didn’t know if you should be relieved or desperate: Arthur also had special abilities, but that didn’t bring you any safeness. However, Akutagawa has always been gentle with you; and, when you found yourself in the most dangerous situation of your life since the incident with Virginia, he just came to protect you. Should you expect things to be different?

There wasn’t much time to think about this, though: once the work was done and your survival was assured, the next thing to do was to provide an escape route, something that wasn’t really hard since your partner summoned the shadows again and took you with him to the nearest rooftop, perhaps the same he used to access the alley. You held your breath and shut your eyes tight with the sudden change of place, only opening them again when you sensed a ground under your feet.

Akutagawa still had an arm around you, but with his free hand he grabbed his phone to make a call.

This was what he said when the person answered:

– It’s done. Take your men to the place and clean it.

He turned it off and typed a second number. This time, the conversation lasted a bit longer, and the imperative note in his voice wasn’t present, an indicative of the superiority of the person to whom he talked that time.

– Sir, the mission was accomplished. The men are taking care of the rest.

The person on the other side of the line seemed to ask something, but you weren’t able to hear it.

– No problem – Akutagawa replied – We’re on our way.

There was no need to explain to whom the we was referring to. When the call ended, you had the nerve to ask where he was going to take you.

– To the only place where you can stay safe for now – he looked around and below, as to make sure you didn’t have unwanted eyes watching anything.

No other explanation was given after this. He left that rooftop and took you to the ground of another alley, where there was a black car at its entry, maybe the same you saw him entering in the day he walked you home.

You didn’t question his intentions or hesitate to approach the vehicle: your legs, still able to walk, led you to it, and when the door was opened, your body just found its way inside it. Akutagawa took the place by your side and closed the door.

Once you sat down, your head was so heavy that you had to hold your forehead to not fall on the front seat’s back. An order was whispered to the driver by your friend, and the car started moving fast and silent. The last thing you remembered was trying to lean your back on the seat when a dizziness took over your senses and your sight went completely dark.

***

Your eyes were heavy when you tried to open them for the first time, but you did it after a few attempts. You blinked to get used to the light and, when your sight cleared, you took the next moment to understand your position and surroundings.

Your back was leaning on the softness of an armchair, your head inclined to the side, your hands resting on your lap. You moved on the chair and sensed a numbness on your limbs, typical of a fainting; you searched through your memories and recollected the moment you entered the car and were followed by Akutagawa.

You straightened up on your spot and shivered: your skin was cold despite the regular temperature of the room. You passed your arms around yourself and observed the place…

And were impressed by the sophistication and beauty you found.

It was a large apartment with modest yet fine decoration, with dark, grayish walls and a black, polished floor, covered with carpets. At your right, you sensed there was natural light, as if entering through glass; you turned toward it and discovered a pair of transparent doors, wide open. There was no wind coming in, but that explained the cold air around. You also sensed a slight, mixed smell of camphor and tea.

Quiet steps were heard near your spot, and you found out weren’t left alone in that room. You raised your eyes and saw Akutagawa approaching and stopping in front of your chair. Suddenly, the memory of the fight in the alley, when he activated his powers, came back and you flinched. Ignoring your reaction, he just did what he intended: with his right hand, he touched your ear with his fingertips, the same ear hit by the metal bead controlled by the man of the scars; when you felt the touch, you noticed your skin was covered with a bandage. With the contact, it burned a little: it was when you realized the metal hit hard.

Akutagawa was the first to speak.

– It stopped bleeding, then – and, moving his hand away, – Good.

You touched your ear in the same spot he did.

– Did you make this bandage?

He nodded in confirmation.

– Thank you.

Instead of replying, he went back to the kitchen, then returned with two cups of tea in hands, one of which he offered to you. You murmured a “thank you” and he took a seat on a chair identical to yours, placed near it, crossing his legs in a what might be the most informal manners he was able to assume.

You took the tea in tense silence, except for the moment you complimented him for the good work in preparing the drink.

– I do it the same way almost every day – he justified – It’s a simple recipe, which makes things easier for me, especially in the busy days.

You found it strange that he gave you all this explanation about his relationship with the process of making tea instead of just accepting your compliment, but you didn’t question it, limiting yourself to an “I see” before the silence was again established between you.

When you finished your tea, you kept your eyes in the cup’s bottom, observing the wet leaves inside it while warming your hands with the remaining heat of the porcelain.

Akutagawa, whose practical manners wouldn’t be left aside by the tensions of earlier, was the one who started the conversation.

– I suppose you want to know where you are.

You raised your eyes to him as soon as you heard those words.

– This apartment is mine – he explained – At the moment, we are in a building that belongs to the organization I work for.

You swallowed. After everything you’ve experienced that day, the word organization was starting to acquire a suspicious meaning.

– What kind of... organization is this one?

The young man in front of you didn’t spare your ears nor your nerves with his answer.

– One that serves as a pillar for the city you came to live in: The Port Mafia.

You felt your entire body tensing up, and your hands tightened around the empty cup. You opened your mouth, but closed it again, not knowing what to say to this.

So… I was about to have a date with a member of a criminal organization?

None of this represented a problem to Akutagawa, who seemed to have anticipated it.

– Revealing this to you in the current circumstances wasn’t in my plans, y/n-san – he continued, the same composed tone as before – But we have nor the choice nor the time to make things different. So, let me explain the situation first, then you will have the chance to decide what to do. As you already noticed, I myself am an esper too. My ability is called Rashomon. To summarize, it is a fabric that devours anything that enters its reach, which includes the space itself. I’ve been working for the Mafia since I was a kid, and for all these years it served me well. There are others like us in our organization, as much as there are common people. We are present in all possible segments of society, and this is how it came to our knowledge that a woman with non documented powers has arrived in Yokohama.

You swallowed.

So, I’ve been observed for all this time.

Suddenly, it came to your memory that night when you sensed a strange presence near your building and went to check it out. Since you couldn’t find anything, you forgot about the episode, supposing that it was just an impression. Now, you weren’t so sure of this.

But Akutagawa hasn’t finished yet.

– However, the Port Mafia is not the only group that knows about you: a foreigner organization, involved with international traffic of espers and counting on native agents to maintain its activities, has been surrounding our city for months and discovered your existence by the same time as us. That man Arthur was one of their agents. He was using your sister to approach you. I was designated to follow his steps, and I suppose he was well informed about me, for he recognized me that day when we met.

The image of Arthur cheering up in the company of your sisters in that occasion, then the one of his body falling and crashing down in your living room returned to you, and your hands trembled.

– It’s a shame that I only found about him when it was too late – you whispered.

– And this is what I wanted to ask you about – your friend continued, unaffected – What happened in your apartment?

You took a deep breath and recalled the disturbing events. It was curious that, instead of the expected shame or fear, speaking about the things you heard and saw – and especially what you did about them – brought a deep sensation of relief; it might have been because you had someone like you to hear the story, or because you finally accepted all of that as real, and not a nightmare, once you talked, or even something between these two. Besides, the fact that Akutagawa didn’t interrupt you and showed no signs of shock or disgust with your actions contributed with this sense of comfort: somehow, his view on what happened to you – and about you – had deep importance.

– And now I don’t know what to do – you concluded, your voice beginning to crack – I can’t go back to my house and see how my sisters are doing, neither I can go to the police without exposing myself... I’m trapped...

No verbal response came from your listener, as he gave you a moment to regain sobriety. When he finally opened his mouth, was to make you an offer.

– Now you understand why I said this is the safest place for you now? – and, when you gave him a nod, – But you can’t stay here forever. And, about this, our head wants to have a conversation with you.

You gasped. The head of the Port Mafia – whoever they were – was interested in you and your powers? Well, you wouldn’t have been taken there for any other reason.

– I don’t know how much you’ve heard about this, but we, bearers of special abilities living in this country, are under an inconvenient bureaucracy – Akutagawa continued – This means that our condition needs to be documented and cataloged by the government, or else our lives might become difficult, whether we are involved with an organization that utilizes our powers or not. Since you don’t have such documentation, no support from the regular authorities must be expected in your case. So, as you can see, things are harder for you than for your family at this moment.

Well, good. As if it wasn’t enough for you to go through all the terrible things involving Arthur and his partners, now you had to worry about documentation.

You sighed.

– If my situation is as complicated as you’re saying, what difference my choice would make to you? As far as I can see, I’ve only been a problem for anyone who surrounds me. What does the Port Mafia expect to gain with this case?

Akutagawa uncrossed his legs and stood up, taking the cup from your hands.

– This is exactly what our head wants to discuss with you – he explained – My role was assure your integrity and bring you to our quarters. Any other information you need to know, you will have from him.

Before you had the chance to continue the conversation, two knocks were heard at the front door. Akutagawa extended a stripe of his Rashomon to unlock it, making you flinch: despite having witnessed it in action before, it was just unsettling to watch him use his power in a casual place such as a living room.

The door was open and there you saw a short, young man with vibrant, ginger hair under a hat and a black coat hanging upon his shoulders. He had his hands on his waist, in an informal position that made him stand out of the environment.

For a moment, he didn’t open his mouth, staring at Akutagawa, then at you, then back to the first, as if not knowing if he should say what he came to say or if he arrived at the wrong time.

With a sigh, he finally decided to speak.

– Ah, you’re here at last – and, with a gesture of his thumb that indicated some place behind him – Boss is impatient to see you. He’s waiting in his office.

Akutagawa nodded in concordance.

– We’re on our way.

He looked at you without a word, but you were quick to understand: you were going to see his superior – “the boss”, as his partner said – in the next moments. You stood up too, looking at the ginger, then back to your friend.

– I’m ready.

***

At first, you thought that you would have your eyes covered or you would be knocked out to wake up only when you were in front of the said Mafia’s leader – since you weren’t part of the organization, possessed special abilities and were desperate, every measure must be taken, so that you would never reveal the smallest information to the outside world. However, none of this happened: Akutagawa didn’t even hold your arm during the walk; he just led you to an elevator at his apartment’s floor and, after a few seconds of lifting, its doors opened to reveal a large corridor surrounded by black walls that, according to him, would lead to your destination. He was the first to step into it, and you just followed him.

It was when the reason why you were allowed to see the path became clear.

This is the quarters of the city’s underworld. The closer I get to its head, the harder would be for me to leave and reveal anything.

By the end of the corridor, a tall pair of doors were visible.

– It’s here – his voice echoed through the liminal space, despite his low tone.

He pushed them with little effort, and you saw them move in synchrony, revealing a wide room that would be as dark as its outsides if it wasn’t for the wall entirely made of glass at the observer’s left, just like the one at Akutagawa’s apartment; thanks to them, you were able to analyze your surroundings in precious details.

The room would seem empty with a lighter color palette, but the one chosen for it did an excellent work in using the extra space, from the decorated ceiling lining to the dark green wallpaper, and the intricate patterns of the large, wine-shaded carpet. At the opposite side of the room, at least meters ahead of your spot, there was a woody work-table, a black chair and three shelves full of books, placed on both of the table’s sides and behind it; a second chair, modest if compared with the first one, was before the table, as if it wasn’t part of the room and it was only brought there moments before you arrived.

You and Akutagawa weren’t the only ones at that place: standing at the side of the glass wall, with his hands behind his back, a man with black coat and a red scarf upon his shoulders was observing the outsides. He turned to you as soon as the doors were closed, and greeted you both with a composed smile.

You approached as he went to take a place close to the table, and once you put your eyes on his face, you froze. Yes, he was different from how you used to see him – his hair was properly combed, his beard has been shaved and his entire apparel was dark – but there was no way for you to be deceived.

There you had the head of Port Mafia, though you knew him by another name.

– Dr. Ougai?

Chapter 6

[arixwrites]

Matt Murdock x best friend!reader pt.5

A/N: We’re jumping forward in time to season 2!! I absolutely love season 2 bc of Frank. He is such an amazing character! I’m currently watching The Punisher and about to finish season 1. It’s good BUT there’s no Matt or Foggy ;( there is Karen so that’s a plus! (and Billy Russo 🤤)

I really just wanted to write some Frank Castle and hopefully include him more in the future. Next part will be a lot longer and way juicier!! 😈 Let me know of any mistakes! I'll be posting pt.6 very soon, like today. I've had it done for a while just need to look it over one last time.

*Thoughts are shown in bold

Anyway hope you enjoy this lil thing! 💜

Word Count: 776

After Grotto collapsed on the floor of Josie’s, You, Karen, and Foggy moved him into the backseat of Karen’s car (before setting a towel down of course). You all figured since Grotto didn’t have money to pay for Nelson, Y/L/N, & Murdock’s services, he probably also couldn’t afford a trip to the hospital in an ambulance. So, you and Karen were now on your way to Metro-General Hospital, with you in the backseat keeping pressure against the wound on Grotto’s side.

After hearing Grotto’s information, Matt was itching to get to the crime scene and figure out what happened for himself. Matt figured he would have to don his Daredevil suit sometime tonight while on the pursuit for the new player in town, so he didn’t want you following him and Foggy to the scene. He hoped you wouldn’t put up too much of a fight because he really couldn’t stand lying to you about his life as Daredevil more than he had to. Luckily for him, you volunteered to go with Karen to Metro-General to make sure Grotto was alright.

While Foggy and Matt were following their own leads in Hell’s Kitchen, You and Karen were trying to convince Grotto to calm down and stay in the hospital. Karen explained to Grotto that they had signed into the hospital under the false names Steve and Isabelle Schaffer. The story was “Steve” had been injured in a bar fight while defending “Isabelle’s” honor, and her childhood best friend, you, had driven them to the hospital.

After Grotto calmed down, he warned the two of you to leave him and save yourselves from whoever had it out for him. To which you replied, ‘Tonight, you became an official client of Nelson, Y/L/N, & Murdock and we don’t leave our clients behind.’

Meanwhile, Daredevil walked in on a disturbing scene in a meatpacking factory. What kind of animal could do this?

You excused yourself to go to the restroom after the drinks from Josie’s and the coffee you got Karen and yourself from the cafeteria went right through you. While drying your wet hands you hear a commotion coming from outside the door.

‘Hold it right there!’

You slowly open the door and come face to face with a man in all dark clothing holding a pistol. You look from his face to the gun in his hand, and finally the gun hanging on his side. You probably looked scared out of your mind, and that’s because you truly were. Whoever had been targeting the Kitchen Irish had come to finish the job but it was just one man.

Frank saw the frightened look on your face and quickly tried to correct it. He wasn’t here to cause any unnecessary harm. He was here to finish what he started and that man was right down the hall. Frank stopped and looked at you dead in the eye. His eyes softened in an attempt to convey that you weren’t in danger. He disassembled the gun at a lightning-fast speed before throwing it in the garbage next to you. You flinched and closed your eyes waiting for the impact of the bullet. You had thought he was going to use the gun against you, but the sound of the gun hitting the inside of the garbage can has you looking at him in disbelief. Great! The psycho murderer would rather slowly kill me with his bare hands than a gun. Lucky me!

‘Hey,’ Frank spoke in a soft yet somehow gravelly voice, ‘Go back inside ma’am. I’m not here to hurt you.’

The loud screams of nurses and doctors coming from down the hall as well as the security guard groaning on the floor made the statement hard to believe. However, you really had no other option. There was no way you were going to be able to run past him to get to Karen and Grotto. You just hoped they were aware of what was going on in the hospital and were already on their way out to safety. You nodded wordlessly and shut the door. You leaned up against the door and finally let out a breath. You splashed water on your face multiple times in an attempt to hold off the incoming panic attack after that possible near-death experience. You could tell he was dangerous just by the way he carried himself. He had a fierce and determined look in his eye when you saw him walking toward you, but he was able to change his expression and give you an honest comforting gaze. Was that really the man that took down the Kitchen Irish single-handedly?

Part 6

[yunhostinyuyu]

come closer

pairing: frat boy!yunho x fem reader

genre: colleague au/frat au, suggestive

wc: 1.5k

synopsis: another friday night, another boring party you find yourself at. Only for a certain person to turn up next to you to turn everything upside down...

warnings: alcohol, weed, smoking, mentions of other drugs, teasing, yeah that’s it

—

„This party sucks. Mingi really hasn’t learned a thing about how this is supposed to work...“ you mutter to yourself, wandering through the hallways of the giant frat house, intertwining almost like a maze. It’s questionable why you even attended tonight’s party in the first place, but there were two good reasons to always show up at Song Mingi’s gatherings: alcohol and drugs. Despite the latter being hard to come by, since the most frat boys keep the good stuff to themselves.

The small group of friends you came with already got lost in the crowd or are crazy drunk, which leaves you alone, trying to waste time until it’s late enough to fashionably excuse yourself to go back to the dorms.

You busied yourself with observing the other people: drinking, smoking, blowing, talking, screaming, making out, groping each other - it looked like a mess you didn’t want yourself getting involved with, even if you were desperately hoping to find something to smoke, so your attendance wasn’t completely useless. It has already been too long since the last time you had some and you truly needed to take some pressure off - with all the final exams already lining up and stressing you out of your mind.

As it became a little too crowded at around 1:00 am you decided to go out onto the balcony, finally breathing fresh air into your lungs. Not the smell of sweat, weed and rum stuck in your nose anymore. Looking down at the neighboring houses and more-or-less silent area as you leaned your elbows on the railing and dangling your almost empty cup above nothing. Enjoying the silence and view of the moonlight illuminating the garden below.

“I thought nobody would be here at this hour... guess I was wrong.” you turned your head around as the unknown voice spoke from far behind you. A tall, handsome boy leaning against the glass door, his messy hair and droopy eyes indicating he just got out of a rather intense crowd. He reached to push his hair aside, but not helping at fixing the disheveled look, only adding to it.

“Intense party, huh?” You joked, already turning your back towards the tall stranger. Taking a few steps, he mirrors your posture and turns to look at your face.

“I have never seen you around here, are you new?” he asked curiously. You were quick to shake your head and chuckle: “No, actually, I come here quite often. But I mostly stay quiet and go home early so... are you new?” You throw the question back, turning your head to the right, now scanning over his facial features as well as you could in the darkness, only scource of light coming from inside the house.

“New to Mingi’s parties yeah. We were friends before college but his parties are still shit. I’m Yunho, by the way” he swiftly introduced himself with a sly nod. “Y/N.” you replied sweetly and he smiled to himself.

You watched him with big eyes as he took out a little plastic bag, filled to the brim with flakes of weed. “Figured this would be the ideal place to smoke one of these.” he explained, not taking his eyes of the little piece of paper and the green stuff he is presicely sprinkling onto it. You just stand there, watching silently. Secretly hoping he would offer you a hit or two once he was finished, but instead brought the stick to his own lips, licking it slowly and closing it before lightning it. Taking long, deep drags as he puffed the smoke out through his nose.

Damn, you thought to yourself, he sure looks good while smoking like that. But you had to act quickly if you actually wanted to have a change with getting something between your lips and into your lungs sooner rather than later.

“Can I have a drag?” looking at him with puppy like eyes, as he slightly tiled his head to meet your eyes. Blinking a few times before he decided.

“Sure, enjoy yourself.” he said as he held his hand with the joint towards you, but pulling it back again as your hand darted out to snatch it from him. Eyeing the tall one, your gaze clearly confused.

A coy smirk appearing on his round lips before speaking up again: “Come closer, I won’t bite... unless that’s what you’re into.” Ignoring his flirty comment but following his request. Now you’re standing closer to Yunho, shoulders almost touching as you finally got hold of what you desired the most. Slotting the joint I between your lips and taking a long drag. “Ugh, this is so good, it’s been so long since the last time I had some...” you explain as you handed the stick back to him.

“At least Mingi knows what good weed is.” he laughs, bringing the stick back to his own lips. You want to get the stick back for a second hit, but he doesn’t let you have it as easy as before, and you feel yourself slowly getting impatient, pouting slightly.

Yunho shifted his form to face you, yourself following along as he took a small step even closer towards you. Looking up to him, joint still in his mouth. His fingers dance up across the skin of your arm, looking out for any sign of discomfort at his action, but there are none.

His hand moving upwards until he reached your face, his thumb grazing your bottom lip gently, and his other fingers rest against your chin. The stares are growing more and more intense, eyes glued onto each other. His pupils darting down, inspecting your lips, softly pushing them apart. He takes the joint away from his lips, leaning in to blow the faint smoke into your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut, enjoying the moment for as long as it lasts, the tension rising with every passing minute. The palms of your hands are growing sweaty from his presence and aura alone, and his ministrations only added to that.

You catch yourself quickly before slipping into indecent thoughts, and this time you’re actually quick enough to grab the joint from him. Repeating the action to him, opening his mouth eagerly when he realized what you were doing. Your hand resting on his shoulder and his hands still on your chin, the other one finding it’s place on your left hip.

“This shit is so hot.” He comments, you slowly reach your hand with the toxic stick towards his face and putting it inbetween his teeth and lips.

“Do it again” you almost plea, tone quiet, only for him to hear your words. Without wasting another second, he takes another drag, taking his hand away from your chin to hold the joint. Grip on your hip growing tighter as he pulls you even closer than before. Bracing yourself at the sudden movement, your hands dart to his chest to keep yourself steady. He leans down towards your face, lips ghosting over yours as he blows the smoke into your wet cavern, breathing in slowly.

Yunho wants to kiss you so badly, the vision of you infront of him, smoke slowly descending out of your mouth not helping much with calming that urge, but making it worse for him to hold back. The only thing you can hear is the faint noises from inside and heavy breathing from the both of you. Your eyes are blown out at this point, waiting on him to make the next move.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, voice deep and raspy from smoking. Swiftly moving your hands from his chest, around his torso and up his back, pushing yourself even closer against the soft material of his hoodie and his strong body. Looking up to find his eyes again, pupils big and dark.

As you nod your head, his lips smash onto yours without hesitation, enjoying the taste of you to the fullest. You hum into the kiss as it grew sloppier and needier, continuing the movements until you ran out of air. Pulling apart for a second, before returning to each other. Yunho’s giant hand grabbing your ass harshly as he wets your lips with his tounge before he slips it into your entrance. The older one being in charge of the kiss, submitting to him completely the moment his wet muscle started moving in sync with your own. It all happens so fast, and you’re truly amazed how quickly he had warped you around his finger, pushing the blame onto the weed that is clouding your head.

Being occupied by each other’s mouths and exploring hands, while occasionally taking turns with the magic stick that was still intbewteen his pointer and middle finger, you don’t realise how much time passes. Then, a loud bang accrued out of the blue, followed by the sound of glass shards clatter. Pulling away from each other, eyebrows furrowed in worry and confusion of what the hell just happened.

“Alright everyone, party’s over.”

—

an: sorry I had to delete the read more bc tumblr kept on duplicating and deleting sections :( hope everyone still enjoys <3

[zettabita]

RIVALS: Spark I

Rivals Master List

hi guys! ok so this is becoming more action than romance lmao I promise next time ill make it...fluffier...? 

I need to get this story out of my head HAHAHAH so I’ll just keep writing. :D In this chapter, you might be a lil OP but thats ok bc you’re amazing irl <3 

————————-

a masaki ichijou x fem reader fic

Genre: action, romance Warnings: mild swearing Word count: 2.2k+

Previous: Thunder

————————-

You really didn’t see what was coming when Saegusa-senpai pulled you into a discussion room the night before your first Ice Pillar Break match. You were meandering about the hotel, you see, trying to get rid of your pre-event jitters. You were inspecting the vending machine (Why doesn’t this have milk tea?) at the end of the corridor when Saegusa-senpai suddenly popped out from nowhere and urged you to follow her into a room full of very intimidating Third year students and an expectant Tatsuya. 

The first thing that crossed your mind when Juumonji-senpai told you in that room that you were chosen to substitute for Monolith Code was the horrible image of you tripping over a rock in the middle of a battlefield. The second thing was how you were so unlucky that the first year they allowed girls to compete in Monolith Code and increased the number of members on a team was your year (but hey, hooray for gender equality.) 

Not wanting to embarrass your school, you tried to put up a good fight. But what about Miyuki, you said. They said that she had two events already and Tatsuya scrunched his face a little bit at the idea. But I don’t have combat experience, you said. They said that Monolith Code, a glorified, no-contact capture-the-flag-with-magic contest, isn’t really live combat and your skills were needed in the team Tatsuya was forming. Not wanting to further bother the scary Third years who looked like they were getting more impatient by the second, you grimly added “not get stomped on at Monolith Code” to your Nine Magic Schools Competition to-do list (At the top of your list was “melt a lot of ice”, which you would later tick off in your Ice Pillar Break match with Mutsuba-san the next day.)

And that’s how you found yourself standing in front of a black pillar in the middle of an open field with Tatsuya Shiba, Leonhard Saijou, and Mikihito Yoshida at the Monolith Code finals, trying in vain to gulp down your nervousness. 

At the far end of the field, you see four figures in dark red armor. They had one girl fidgeting more nervously than you were (It was somehow comforting.) You eye the tallest one, the one with the brownish-red hair tucked underneath the helmet before closing your eyes.

“We need you to counter Ichijou Masaki.” Tatsuya says, almost apologetically. 

You almost spat out your drink from the hotel minibar. “You need me to do what?!” (You panic now, but years later, you thank Tatsuya for his decision. Masaki thanks him too.) You were hanging out in your room with your teammates and a few First-year friends, discussing combat styles and strategies for the coming matches in a few days.

Tatsuya sighs as Leo and Mikihito stare at him incredulously. “It will be difficult, but I need to shut down Futatsugi Kei. I can’t do that while also facing off against Ichijou Masaki. At the very least, you have to buy me some time.” You pause to think. Futatsugi Kei was another Third High School ace from a Master Clan. It was absolutely criminal for him, the Crimson Prince, and Cardinal George to be on the same Monolith Code team. 

But then again, Ichijou Masaki was also in a weight class of his own. Or so they say. “But why me?”

“It’s actually one of the reasons why I chose you. The Ichijou clan specializes in medium to long range bombardment. That would make it difficult for Leo and Mikihito,” Tatsuya gestured to the two, “to take him on from a distance with their specialities. But you can.”

Before you could even reply, Erika chimes in from the other side of the room. “And you’re a girl!” 

The four of us gaze at her curiously. You ask, “What does that have to do with anything?”

Erika flashes me a wide grin. “You’re a girl, so he’ll hesitate going all-out. Right?” She looks to the boys for confirmation. 

“I don’t know if I should be happy about that…” you say as Leo lights up in realization. “Oh, yeah! Old-fashioned types like Master Clans people will probably underestimate you, ” Leo blushes slightly and pauses, realizing the implications of his words, “uh, which is, you know, really unfair, but maybe you could use that to your advantage?” 

Tatsuya and Mikihito nod in agreement. “Yes. It’s possible for us to construct a strategy around that,” Tatsuya adds.

You press your fingers to your temple in a gesture of defeat. “Okay. I’ll think of something. But I don’t think my defense will hold…”

Tatsuya reaches into his inner coat pocket. “And there’s another reason why I chose you.” His lips curl into a rare smile and hands me a silver gun-shaped CAD. “Come on. I’m going to teach you Gram Demolition.”

“(L/N)-san.” Tatsuya calls. You open your eyes without looking at him. “Are you ready?” He asks in a low voice. He was obviously most concerned about your state, given that you were the unlucky one to throw down with one of the best first-year magicians around. 

You feel for the CADs in your holsters and pull up your glove, your magic talisman, on your left hand. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” You think back to your first Monolith Code match with Eighth this morning. You did well, taking to the battlefield easily and readily, but you haven’t shown the world your new spell that was learned in a few late-night crash courses with Tatsuya. Gram Demolition, a potent close-range Counter Magic spell, wasn’t a complicated technique, you learned. You only had to have a crazy high Psion count to cast it. It just so happens you had a lot more than most. 

You sigh and go over your magic repertoire in your head for the last time. You do your best to ignore your heart beating annoyingly fast in your chest, sharpen your focus, and lock your eyes on that self-assured red-haired magician standing directly across from you on the field. Masaki Ichijou—your rival for the day.

And with a screech of a faraway siren, the match begins. 

Tatsuya sprints, two CAD pistols in his hand, legs pumping quickly underneath him as he aims at Futatsugi. The air shifts as the other two spread out behind you. Masaki, on the other, strides confidently forward and begins to cast a spell aimed at Tatsuya.

Not him, me, you think to yourself in a split-second. You send a barrage of lightning bolts in Masaki’s direction, the intensity of your thought coloring the strength of your magic, and he deflects it just in time. He turns to you and you see a small smile plastered on his…admittedly handsome face. Smug bastard. You take a quick glance to your left and see Tatsuya engage in a shootout with that Futatsugi character.

Your eyes dash back to your opponent. Masaki raises his two pistols and a few Activation Sequences form around you quickly. Air Bullet: a round of compressed air and Masaki’s go-to spell in this competition (You’ve watched a few replays of his matches. Never can be too careful with a guy who’s killed a bunch of Russians when he was 13.) Strong, but easy to dismantle. Show time. You blast them away cleanly one by one with your newly-learned Gram Demolition technique and counter with your powered-up version of Thunder Child. Masaki’s smile fades and his eyes widen as he puts out a defensive spell, averting the paralyzing effect of your offense. At the edge of your vision, you notice the other Third opponents shoot you a shocked glance.

Masaki regains his composure in an instant. The two of you walk towards each other, pistols raised in a magic gunfight. Lightning and Activation Sequences form and disintegrate around the both of you within seconds, drawing you in, encircling the both of you in a beautiful but deadly light show. (It lit up his face the same way it would the first time he took you to see fireworks at the pier in Kanazawa.) You manage to slip in a few lightning bolts in between shots of Gram Demolition, making him sidestep occasionally, but you were basically locked in a stalemate. 

Now or never. You break your solid stance and run towards him, catching him off-guard. For a second, he pauses, and you press the attack, nearly hitting him with a low-voltage lightning bolt. 

The Crimson Prince must’ve felt the heat quite literally. He flinched at the heat and the close sound of air expanding rapidly like miniature thunder, and, with a flick of his wrist, a dozen Activation Sequences suddenly surrounded you, threatening to let loose. Oh my God, this jerk’s trying to kill me. You catch the horrified expression on his face (his move was a violation of the rules, after all) before you blast away one, four, then seven in a moment, going beyond what you thought you could, and then you take out a few more. You feel the hotness from a nearby explosion. You internally scream at your body to catch up and obliterate the remaining Sequences.

And then, when you’d just were a couple of paces from him, just within range of a lightning bolt, one air bullet hits the ground next to you. The world to your left erupts in a hot flash and the ground simply bursts, soil surging up into the air. You let out a yelp of pain and dive away from the blast.

“And that’s the plan. Do you think the illusion will hold?” You focus on your outstretched hand, gathering Psions and then destroying Tatsuya’s attempt at a spell, the glow from the attempt lighting up his figure in the darkened training field not far from the hotel. Your Gram Demolition was still imperfect, but it was getting there: you had proceeded from mildly inconveniencing Activation Sequences last night to outright blowing them away this evening. 

Tatsuya furrows his eyebrows in mild disapproval as he prepares to cast another one. “At your level, it should.” Another Activation Sequence forms before you and you blast it away easily. “Still...a lot of things could go wrong with that. Are you sure, using yourself as bait?”

You shrug. “You would be too busy to help me. And… to be honest, I don’t think I have a chance at fighting him head-on for too long. So I’m doing what you guys suggested. Using a little psychology.” You grin as you take down a couple of Sequences from Tatsuya near-perfectly. “After all, who wouldn’t panic if they thought they hurt a cute girl?”

You just didn’t expect him to try to kill said cute girl, even if it was an accident. You lie face down in the dirt. Your ears were ringing and your head throbbed irritatingly. Thank goodness your helmet had tough glass or you’d be eating mud by now. A thick mist that looks like dust and steam emanates from the palm of your glove-covered hand and envelops the surrounding area, hiding you from view. You raise your head slightly to look around at it. Your smoke version of Magical Mist, a spell that creates a thick fog, looked a bit unnatural, but it should do. A destroyed CAD, an attempt at a defense spell, a weird natural phenomenon: what created the mist shouldn’t matter, because the opponent should be panicking either way. You take another second to lie on the grass, CADs clutched in your hands, hurting all over from the dive, and then you waited.

You knew that Masaki was just at the edge of the smoke, probably freaking out at the prospect that he killed a girl and a foreign exchange student at First High (Later on, you learn he already had been practicing how to apologize to your country’s government for your death. The nervous wreck.) You knew he would be too busy reviewing his previous steps to see if the excessive force he used would be enough to kill you and definitely too busy to notice that his opponent was very much still alive and kicking. You listen for a rustle of grass or a shuffle of armor. 

After a quiet moment of passing wind and the faraway sounds of magic from your teammates’ own battles, you hear it: a step back, the ground crunching underneath a foot. You raise yourself from the ground quickly and throw your CAD in the direction of the sound. It was a good throw: high and far, the gun spinning away from view in a clean trajectory. More importantly, it was a good distraction at a magic-only battle. At almost the same time, you sprint and emerge from the smoke and into the light. 

You swear the world moved in slow motion in that instant. Masaki Ichijou stood there a few feet from you, pistols lowered, his head turned in the direction of the CAD you threw. He feels the air shift when you emerge and he turns to you slowly, his emerald eyes glinting in the light, his mouth gaped open in surprise. He raises an arm instinctively, probably activating his defenses, but you already cast the final blow: Spark. A seemingly simple spell that creates a small electric discharge but is enough to paralyze an opponent.

As you did, you couldn’t help but flash the Crimson Prince a shameless smile from ear to ear. I win, you wanted to say. He looked on—you couldn’t understand the expression on his face—as he fell to his knees, electricity crackling around him. Far away, the crowd erupts in loud cheers. 

Months later, Masaki tells you that that smile was what made him fall desperately in love with you.

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hope the way you beat him wasn’t too far-fetched lmao. thanks for reading! <3

[daily-rubbersoul-redux]

Jacian stood across from Natalio in the abandoned street, hand on the hilt of his sword. A determined frown was painted across his face, and the wild was blowing gently through his hair.

This was it. The final confrontation.

….He knew full well that he would be incapable of taking down the man on his own, especially since he had no idea where his main sword had gone after the incident three weeks ago. But if he could hold out until Gabbrielli and Taiana returned, and wear him down enough, then…

He was sure they would not fail. He would not fail.

“….So this is the course of action that you have decided to take.” Natalio let out a sigh. “…I expected as much.” He met Jacian’s gaze with a stern frown of his own. “Fine then; You know what comes next.”

“Indeed, I am well aware. And I do not intend to lose.” His gaze hardened.

“Hmph. Then allow me to ask you this: Why fight? Or rather, who are you fighting for? Your father? Your friends? The girl?”

“…While I would normally say yes to all of those, my answer is no. This does not pertain to them; It is between you and I. This is a battle not of strength, but of convictions. And so, I am fighting for myself; I am fighting because I believe in the strength of my own convictions, and I believe them to be stronger than yours as they are now.

Face it, Natalio; You have fallen from grace. And until you yourself can see how far you have strayed from the path you once set off on…

I REFUSE TO LET UP!” With that, he drew his sword, swiftly taking a combative stance before leaping forward with a battle cry.

[the rest has been put under a cut bc this shit is 18 fucking pages long, and i'm not about to clog everyone's dashes with a text wall THAT LONG-]

Natalio stood firm, his eyes narrowing as he prepared to take Jacian’s blow head on. Normally, he would be at a disadvantage; He was fighting with no weapon, and Jacian had a sword and the skills to use it masterfully, after all. However, as he would quickly prove by parrying Jacian’s oncoming attack, he had no need for a weapon.

Jacian’s boots skidded against the pavement as he went flying back. He had expected this, but even still… He felt a twinge of fear as he watched the slashes left by his blade rapidly heal and disappear. This was going to be a difficult fight; It would likely come down to a test of stamina, and even then, he was at a disadvantage due to his lower defenses and inability to utilize his full power. But all he had to do was hold out until the others returned; And that, he was sure he could do. He once more took up an offensive stance. Alright then, it was time to put his training to use…

As soon as Jacian finished that thought however, Natalio decided to go on the offensive as well, springing forward to attack. Jacian only had less than a second to process this, and dodge, but…

He was ready. With a small flash of greenish-yellow light he dodged to side, almost too quickly to be seen. Small particles of electricity surrounded him as he went in for a counterattack, though he was once again intercepted, this time by Natalio catching the blade before it could hit its mark. He ignored the blood slowly making it’s way down his arm as he looked over Jacian. “So, you have been practicing with your powers… Hm. Hm! I must say, I am impressed Jacian.

…Though we both know that simply dodging will not be enough to tip the scales in your favor.” In one swift and powerful notion, he threw Jacian’s blade back towards him; Though the blonde managed to keep a hold of it, he was sent flying back once more. Natalio crossed his arms as Jacian regained his composure. “You say that he with the stronger convictions shall be the victor, full well knowing the strength behind my own, and yet you still choose to fight. You are no coward, but I also know you are no fool.” His eyes narrowed. “What exactly are you implying?”

Jacian gave no reply, simply taking an offensive stance once more, eyes narrowing as well.

Natalio let out another sigh. “…Then, so be it. No more talk.

And no more holding back.”

And so, the two began to truly battle; Each clash resulting in cuts that quickly healed, burnt flesh that quickly regenerated without as much as a scar. Jacian managed to dodge most of the man’s attacks, but the few blows he did take were akin to getting hit by a sledgehammer. He still was managing to keep up, but… It was clear that he was losing in terms of stamina, if only by a bit. But still…. If he didn’t do something fast to buy himself some more time, he might be in trouble. He had an idea, but… He glanced at his blade.

… It would be very, very risky…

…He had no other choice. Without giving a Natalio a chance to fully recover from the last flurry of blows, he rushed forwards, electricity swirling at his hands. He had to time this right; he only had one shot.

He leapt forward, letting out a determined scream and, letting the electricity flow through the blade milliseconds before impact, slashing diagonally across Natalio’s chest, and leaving a long, deep gash of burnt, bloody skin. The man gritted his teeth, letting out a groan of pain as he staggered back.

Jacian sprung back, surveying the damage both to the other man and his own weapon. It was now half as long, with naught but jagged fragments of steel left at the end. The entire top had been vaporized… It was most certainly unsuitable for battle. But still usable if need be…

Natalio was still reeling from the attack. To think that Jacian had that kind of power within him… Truly, he had potential.

…To bad he would…

Hm…

Jacian took a minute to try and regain some of his stamina as the wound across Natalio’s chest slowly began to heal itself. At this rate, he… He wouldn’t have enough time. And having a smaller weapon meant he would have to get closer if he hoped to get any hits off…

Shit. This was looking bad.

And bad it was; In the split second that Jacian had been trying to figure out the best course of action, Natalio had recovered enough to go for another attack. By the time that Jacian noticed, he no longer had any opportunity to dodge; All of his options were covered. He took up a defensive stance, not knowing what else to do, and closed his eyes as he braced for impact.

…Which never came. Rather, all heard was a grunt of pain from Natalio. What in the gods name…?

Even to someone like Jacian who was probably closer than most people to approaching anything resembling an understanding regarding the principal, he still had no idea how it was that Orlando was that good at being sneaky when it really mattered. Maybe it was just a skill he developed to be more "evil" at some point, but the end result was that, in one moment, he wasn't there, and in the next he was, brandishing Jacian's lightning blade like someone who was completely unfamiliar with the concept of sharp metal. That said, the only explanation for the way the sword lodged itself into Natalio's back like a thrown battleaxe lodged itself in a skull was pure luck.

"I've gotta say, I probably should've asked you about how your powers worked before building a contrived plot around them, but any chance you can magic this thing up for me?"

Jacian opened his eyes in shock. "Wh- Orlando!? Why are you... WHY DID YOU COME BACK!?"

Unfortunately, in the time that Jacian had been distracted by his friend's appearance, Natalio had already managed to rip the blade from his back, hissing in pain as he did, before the wound started to heal itself once more. He inspected the blade as it held it before him; This was the sword that Jacian had forged specifically so that he could utilize his abilities more often, yes? Hm...

"Orlando, please, you must leave! You are in great danger being here, and I refuse to let anyone else get hurt, so please, just this once, listen to me!" Rather than holding an expression of pleading of desperation, Jacian's face displayed an expression of pure, raw determination.

Orlando huffed, crossing his arms. "I don't know how much I really managed to help you while we were talking things out, but at the very least I figured out this: If I'm in 'great danger' or whatever, then you're in danger too, and I'm not going to just let you take everything on by yourself! We're supposed to be... a TEAM!"

In the midst of Orlando's brief monologue, Chumbawamba had crawled its way up on Natalio's back and delivered as many stings as it could before Natalio could tear it off as he had done with the sword - the poison delivered by its stings wouldn't be capable of freezing a man of Natalio's size for at least an hour, but it did hurt like hell, staining the wounds a neon pink even after they'd regenerated. Just as his Stand had been disarmed, Orlando used the word "TEAM" as a war cry - in one fluid motion, he drew his hammer, spun around, and shattered the man's jaw.

The blow sent Natalio reeling and forced him to stagger back a few paces. He slowly straightened his head out, wiping the blood from his mouth with his free hand. Tch…

“Dammit Orlando, this is not-”

Before Jacian could finish his sentence, Natalio had firmly planted his foot into Orlando’s chest in a manner similar to Ganondorf’s forward tilt, sending the principal flying back, landing splayed out on his back. Natalio sighed as he resumed a normal standing position. “Stay down; This is not your fight.”

Though those words fell on deaf ears, as by this point Orlando had likely lost consciousness. Jacian tried to run over to his friend, but his path was blocked by the larger man.

“He will be fine. Here.” He tossed Jacian’s sword to him. “There is no point in us fighting if you are at a disadvantage; It would not be fair, and any victory on my part would be meaningless.”

Jacian was at a loss for words as he caught his greenish blade, looking at the pathetic specimen that was the remains of his other sword. He silently tossed the broken blade aside, doing a few practice swings with his regular sword to get re-accustomed to its weight. With this, he…

He had a chance again.

Before the fighting could resume, however, Taiana finally returned, though she could only look on in shock at the scene that was laid out before her. “What on Earth… WHY IS ORLANDO HERE!?”

Jacian turned his attention to her, with Natalio simply waiting as the two conversed. “He came back to try and help, despite my wishes. Taiana, I know you want to offer me aid, but… Please, could you see him to somewhere safe?”

“Jacian, I can’t just… You look tired already as is! I can’t just leave you on your own, what if…”

“Taiana, do you trust me?”

“What does that-”

“Just answer.” His expression was somehow both comforting and determined at once, as an eerie shine made its way across his sword. “I can do this, Taiana. I promise, I will not leave you. Not again.”

She went silent for a few seconds, looking between him, Natalio, and Orlando, before giving a small nod. “…Okay. I trust you, Jacian. I’ll get him out of here.”

Jacian smiled. “Thank you.”

She nodded again, making her way over to Orlando’s unconscious form and hoisting him up, before departing from the area once more.

…Good. With no one else around to worry about, his true weapon back in his hands, and a foe near impervious to death…

He had no reason to hold anything back.

Once she was out of sight, Jacian let out a deep sigh, before giving Natalio a determined glare. “Now then…

No more holding back.”

As Jacian said that an eerie greenish-yellow glow began to envelop the blade, sparks of electricity coming off of both the blade and his own body. With a roar akin to thunder, he charged forward, using his power both to propel him forward faster and to deliver a large, electricity imbued slash.

Natalio narrowly dodged, getting nicked by the blow on his forearm which still left a fairly large gash. It was clear that the regular blade that Jacian had been using before had been hindering him; No wonder he had spent most of the fight simply dodging and biding his time. The man smiled. Good.

Now he could stop holding back as well.

With a roar of his own, Natalio charged at Jacian for a counterattack, throwing a meaty punch which Jacian only barely managed to block with his sword; A solution which still resulted in him skidding a good three feet back.

They both continued in a constant exchange of blows; Jacian was getting hit less, due to his speed advantage and the fact that Natalio often had no need to dodge, but every blow he did take was devastating. However, Natalio was beginning to show some signs of exhaustion as well; The battle could still go either way, though it was likely that the next few hits would decide its outcome. And at this point, Jacian was beginning to tire. His movements were becoming a bit sloppy; He was having to resort to blocking rather than dodging much more, and the strength of his blows were diminishing as well. He had to be careful, move too slowly even once and… No, that wouldn’t happen. He refused to allow it to.

He only had to hold on a bit longer. He could do this, he…

He…

Jacian went in for another attack, hitting his mark with exceptional force, but leaving himself open for a split second in the process. And in that split second…

Natalio sharply kneed him in the chest, completely throwing him off and causing him to double over in pain, before following through with a roundhouse kick, sending the blonde flying. He tumbled against the ground, landing on his side with his sword clattering against the concrete beside him. He let out a small groan of pain, curling up a bit as he clutched at his chest. Shit…

Natalio slowly wiped away the blood that had accumulated on his face over the course of the battle, his breathing heavy and labored. Many of the wounds he had sustained were mere memories at this point, but some—a select few, mind you, but some—had managed to leave actual scars. He was impressed, very impressed, but… This fight had drawn on for too long; He needed to end this, now, while he still could.

He began speaking as he approached Jacian. “I must admit, Jacian; You have done exceedingly well. I could feel your determination to win in every blow, see it in every movement. You are incredibly skilled young man. You should be proud of that.”

Jacian weakly looked up at the man, as he now stood over him blocking out the evening sun.

“However, you made one fatal mistake, Jacian.

You underestimated my resolve, and my faith in my convictions.

And for that, you shall pay dearly.”

He grasped the boy by the collar, lifting him up to meet his gaze. “You are well aware of the consequences for betrayal, Jacian. I truly do wish that it never had to come to this. But,” He swiftly punched Jacian in the gut with immense force, prompting a gag of pain as the boy began to cough up blood “I am afraid that you have lost.

…Send my regards to your father.”

As he prepared to throw another punch, Jacian weakly began to raise his arm, and made a feeble attempt to hold the man’s hand back. Natalio stopped moving, further impressed by the boy’s resolve, although… A bit confused as to what he hoped to accomplish with the meager action.

He hacked up more blood, and at this point was barely able to keep his eyes open. “No.” he croaked out, his breathing as shaky as his voice.

“…Y-you are the one who… has lost.” Before Natalio had a chance to reply, Jacian screwed his eyes shut, shouting as loud as his weakened lungs would let him. “GABBRIELLI, NOW!”

Natalio’s expression turned to one of confusion as a figure veiled in shadow with a hold on a long object leapt down from the roof of a nearby building. Before either of them could react, Natalio would find himself with a lance plunged into his back, letting out a yelp of pain as he released his grasp on Jacian, who crumbled to the ground in a pitiful mass, breathing heavily.

Gabbrielli ripped his weapon out, using his father’s back as a springboard to gracefully leap to Jacian’s side, before gently picking him up and putting some distance between them and Natalio.

“I-I told you I could… Do it…” Jacian smiled weakly, before hacking up more blood.

“Hey, easy there Jacian… And I know. You really are skilled, both in combat and with your words and plans. Now hold still.” Gabbrielli gently placed his hand on Jacian’s forehead, a warm light enveloping them both as what appeared to be feathers fluttered around them. After a few minutes, the glow dissipated, and Jacian grabbed his sword once more, using it to help him shakily get to his feet.

“…Are you ready?”

“Yes. Thank you, my friend.” The two turned to face Natalio, who was still recovering from the deep wound in his back, and the deeper wound in his heart.

“Gabbrielli… You…” He was trying his best to keep up his anger, but… It was clear that the metaphorical mask of his emotions was cracking.

Jacian, now having recovered enough to stand without the support of his sword, opted to point it at the man instead, his determined expression returning once more, with an intensity far greater than previous. “Face it, Natalio. You no longer hold the iron clad resolve that you once did; Your convictions have become weaker, and you no longer fully believe in your goal. The fact that I was even able to pull this off proves that. And if you still do not believe me…”

“THEN ALLOW US TO PROVE IT!” Both boys shouted, rushing forward before engaging the man in what could only be described as a dance of blades. They took turns landing blows, gracefully pulling back after they struck to allow the other to take a turn, before finishing with a simultaneous slash that left two large, vertical gashes across the man’s chest.

Jacian hopped back as Natalio groaned, staggering backwards a few steps, though Gabbrielli stayed put, facing his father with a sad yet stern expression.

“…It pains me to do this father. It really, truly does. I… I didn’t want to believe it, when Jacian had told me what you had done, but… After seeing what I have today, I am unable to do anything but believe his words.” He lowered his lance, his expression staying stern. “…So I suppose that you can consider me as an opponent as well, father. That is, if my lance work was not enough of an indication.”

Natalio stayed silent, head hung low. Was this truly what it had come to? The ones standing in his way were…

…

…So… Be it…

Without a word, he wound up his fist, preparing to throw another punch. Gabbrielli stood firm, not a trace of fear in his eyes.

Natalio threw the punch.

…Though his fist stopped less than an inch from his son’s face; He had begun trembling.

…He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to willingly, KNOWINGLY, hurt his child. But why, why? He had always been able to crush anyone who stood in his path; He had slain people who he considered to be his greatest allies, who he would have trusted with his life. So why, why now…

…Was there truth behind Jacian’s words?

“You see it now, do you not?” Jacian approached the man, his own weapon lowered as well. “If you really wanted me dead, then I would have been dead before the battle could truly begin. I know how you work, Natalio. I can tell when you are holding back. Even when you had me by the throat, the punch you threw was not full strength. You either did not intend to kill me, despite your words, or…

…You could not bring yourself to. Even though I am a traitor, in your eyes.”

The man stayed quiet, still shaking a bit but otherwise staying motionless and emotionless.

“…Natalio, please. For your own sake, just stop all of this. I understand your reasons, I truly do; When I first realized the truth of what happened to him, I was willing to do near anything to avenge my father as well. But surely you too can see that this has gone too far; That the pile of innocent corpses has grown too high for this to be considered anything close to moral anymore. Losing your own children should have been the wakeup call. This needs to end no-”

“SILENCE!” The man roared, finally looking up with a burning fury in his eyes. In the matter of mere milliseconds, he once again had Jacian up by the collar, though this time Jacian made no effort to struggle, his gaze and expression unchanging.

“You truly think you have any right to sit here and lecture me, telling me to QUIT? After all I have done to get here, all I have sacrificed? After having to let that… That THING use me in order to stand a chance against him? After I was duped into killing my own children, you simply expect me to QUIT!?”

Jacian stayed quiet, which only proved to further push the man over the edge. This rage, this fury...

He could tell it was naught but the result of denial.

“ANSWER ME! ANSWER ME!” Though his eyes still held the same maddened fury, tears had begun to stream down his eyes.

“…If you cannot come to that conclusion yourself, even after clearly displaying a sense of doubt in your actions, then nothing I say will serve to sway you. And as it seems that you will not willingly stop on your own…

…We shall stop you ourselves. This is for your own good, Natalio.

This is the last thing I do to serve you.”

Before the man could respond, Gabbrielli used the pole of his lance to sweep his father’s feet out from under him, causing him to fall forward, losing his grip on Jacian in the process, who hopped onto the man’s back and attempted to hold him down with Gabbrielli’s help.

Meanwhile, Taiana, who had been waiting on the same abandoned building’s roof that Gabbrielli had been, cracked her knuckles. It was time for her to do her part. She wished she could have helped more, but… Gah, Orlando just HAD to be himself. Still, at least she was here for the most important part of Jacian’s plan.

The part only she could do.

Taking a deep breath, she dived from the building, a blue light enveloping her as she fell.

Time to end this.

Natalio was struggling to throw the two boys off of him, though they had still managed to hold him down for the time being. “Ngh… Get the hell off of me!”

“I’m sorry father, but- Gh, no!”

Jacian stayed quiet, opting to focus what little energy he had left of keeping the man down, and nothing else.

If not for the fact that they had been fighting for nearly an hour, and that Natalio’s energy was drained from not only the battling but also from what could only be qualified as an overuse of his stand, there would have been no chance that the two would have been able to keep the large man down. But tiring him out first, and forcing him to take on massive injuries in an effort to drain all of his stamina…

It had all been a part of Jacian’s plan; He knew he stood no chance using brawn alone. But he was no mere soldier, no mere knight. No, he was THE Jacian Von Rittedel; Esteemed leader of the White Lily Corps, and professional evil rival.

Plans and strategy were his forte.

And this plan,

Was about to reach its grand climax.

As the three lay on the ground before the abandoned building, a blue light began to bathe over the area as well as the sound of something making impact with the ground.

Something BIG.

Being the only one actually facing the building, Jacian was the only one to bear witness to what this something was; Emerging from the light was a large, reptilian creature clad in black and orange scales that shimmered with a warm glow in the evening light. Its golden horns seemed to form a crown atop its head, and its slender build in combination with its aerodynamic wigs made it apparent that it was agile, yet also likely strong due to its apparent musculature.

It was a dragon, and not just any dragon.

It was…

“TAIANA!” Jacian shouted up at her, preparing for the final act of his grand plan. “NOW!”

She let out a roar, which could likely be heard across town, before grabbing onto the side of the abandoned building, beginning to crush it between her hands.

Debris was already beginning to fall, ranging from pebbles to rocks large enough to crush someone’s skull. Gabbrielli grabbed onto Jacian, but the two didn’t move.

Not yet. They still needed to keep Natalio, who was beginning to get more panicked in his attempts to escape them, down. By this point they had both utilized their weapons to pin the sleeves of his suit—as well as the shirt underneath—down as to limit his movements. Even so, they were lucky to have been able to manage for so long.

Taiana was moving as fast as she could, blue fire beginning to come from edges of her mouth as she barred her fangs in frustration. Just one more push and…

The side of the building began its collapse. Gabbrielli quickly sprung into action, feathered wings seemingly made up of a warm light springing from his back. Once again using his father as a springboard, he leaped off with Jacian in tow, both boys grabbing their weapons as they departed, before Gabbrielli flew them a safe distance away.

And it was a good thing that he did, as not even seconds after their departure, the avalanche of concrete and debris made its way to the place they had just been standing.

Natalio had no time to react; His legs were crushed near instantly, and any attempt his stand made to recover them was in vain due to the constant, unrelenting damage being dealt by the rubble.

Not that it mattered whether he was healed or not.

It was not as if he could feel his legs any longer anyways.

He lay there dumbfounded, as Gabbrielli and Jacian landed in front of him, with Taiana joining them shortly after, once more in her humanoid form.

The three teens stood over the man, looking down at him expressions varying from stern anger to determined sadness.

Jacian was the first to speak up.

“It is over, Natalio. You are no longer in a state to fight on; No longer in a state to pursue your goal. You have no other option than to surrender and accept punishment for your actions.

In other words, this is checkmate.”

Natalio looked down. “…I admit defeat. And if that defeat is to be at the hands of my own son, the person I aspired to take from, and the person I trusted most, then…

So be it.” He looked up at them as he said that, a tired smile on his face. “I think I understand now, Jacian; I understand your convictions. Your purpose for fighting.”

Jacian gave a curt nod. “Good. Now then, we are going to call the authorities to get you medical aid, since your stand will not do that for your legs anymore, and so that you can begin your atonement. I expect that you will wait here and accept what is to come.”

“…Of course.”

By this point, Gabbrielli had turned his head, trying to hide the tears that had begun to well up in his eyes. “Father, I… I wish it didn’t have to turn out this way. Why… I… I need to hear it from you. Why?”

Natalio’s expression softened, as he looked down once more.

“…Because I was emotionally weak, and unable to let go, my son. And I thought that by becoming strong, and destroying the thing that had taken my love, your mother, away from me, that I would be able to fix everything, and put her soul to rest.

Maybe I was wrong.

…But that does not mean that the bastard should be allowed to continue to soil the world with his foul presence any longer. No matter what, I will stand by that assertion.”

“…Yes, that’s the street. Alright, please do hurry.” Taiana hung up, before turning to the other two. “Alright, wrap it up guys. We gotta go.”

“…Farewell, father. I never will agree with what you’ve done, but… I still love you.”

“…And I love you as well, my son. Please, take good care of your sister.”

“O-of course.” And with that, Taiana and Gabbrielli began to depart, though Jacian hung back for a few seconds, unsure of what to say. His emotions were… Conflicting to say the least.

“…You need not say anything, Jacian. Thank you for your service; And for doing something for me that I was unaware I needed done. I hope that you continue to grow into an excellent young man. And please, watch over my son for me. Consider it a last request.” Natalio smiled again, and Jacian nodded, giving a small but genuine smile back.

“Of course. Farewell, my Lord.” And with that, he departed, joining his friends as they walked off, leaving the struggles of the past three weeks behind them.

Finally, it was over.

[jamie-leah]

The Ghost Of You

Bucky x Reader

Oneshot?

Word Count: 2,781

Summary: Request - I'mma add to the angst and request a fic where your ex which you thought to be dead was discovered to be alive and due to conflicted feelings you say no to Bucky when he proposes to you, the rest is up to you bc you are a fantastic writer 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

Warnings: Angst, swearing, Fluff, mentions of torture and scars, Cliffhanger

A/N: This took a mind of its own. Thank you for the request Nonnie! Hope it was what you had in mind? Enjoy Lovelies!

Oneshot Masterlist         Series Masterlist

“You know I could kick your ass any day of the week, Buck", you say with a smirk and a sideways glance in the elevator down.

Bucky chuckles and turns to you, “only because you cheat".

You look at him, jaw slack in mock offense, “I do not cheat!”.

“Oh please! Last week you started crying and you know I hate seeing you cry! You knew I had you and you took advantage of the fact I’m your boyfriend”, Bucky says, the smirk never leaving his face.

You toss him one of your own and say, “that’s just good tactics, baby. Use your opponent’s weakness against them".  

Bucky tips his head back to laugh and it has you grinning when the doors slide open into the lobby of the avengers building. People are milling about like ants but it’s the commotion at the front desk that has you pausing.

A guy with sandy hair that brushes the tops of his shoulders is shouting at the receptionist, “you need to let me see her!”.

Adrenaline starts to flood your veins and you find yourself approaching without thought as you notice his ripped clothes. His voice scratching familiarly at a door you thought you closed years ago.

He shouts again, “you need to get Y/N down here now, you don’t understand”.

The way your name falls off his tongue is like a sucker punch and it takes everything not to double over from shock. You’re vaguely aware of Bucky murmuring, “is he asking for you?”.

But it’s only you and the guy in the whole of the room right now as you say, “Charlie?”.

Charlie, your ex of 4 years, whips around at the sound of your voice. You take each other in for a full minute before he makes his way towards you.

Instinctively, you take a step back. Your ex was dead. You were there when he died. You went to his funeral. This man in front of you is a ghost.

Charlie doesn’t flinch at your reaction, instead taking another step and talking to you like you’re a frightened animal, “Y/N, it’s okay, it’s me, Charlie. Please baby, you’ve got to believe me. I’ve been trying to get back to you all this time and I’ve finally found you".

You shake your head but don’t move away from him, “h-how?”.  

Charlie stretches his arms out towards you, “does it matter?”.

The room rushes back as you see Bucky's metal arm come between you and Charlie, his voice comes out hard and guarded, “actually, yes it does matter. You’re supposed to be dead".

Your head was spinning far too fast to register the switch in Charlie as he replies with equal wariness and steel, “yes, I realise that. Can I have a moment with my girlfriend”. It was a statement, not a request despite the wording.

Bucky doesn’t budge, “I’m not sure, you’ll have to ask her". Neither of them takes their eyes off each other and you can feel the air get so thick with tension you wonder when the lightning is going to strike.

You shake your head like you can clear away the cobweb of memories. You lay a hand on Bucky’s arm but look to Charlie, “I guess you should come upstairs then”.

It doesn’t take long before you’re standing in the kitchen, a fresh pot of coffee made and silence to settle. You stand leaning against the counter, Charlie sits at the island nursing a mug, and Bucky leans against the entryway watching Charlie’s every move.

After Charlie takes a sip of his coffee, he looks to you with an annoyed but desperate look, “why does he have to be here? This isn’t how I imagined our reunion”.

You look from Bucky to Charlie before saying, “he’s staying, Charlie. Bucky is, well, he’s my boyfriend”.

You realise you’re holding your breath, but you can’t help it as you watch for Charlie’s reaction. You think you see shock, but it’s quickly masked by a guarded face that could only mean he was hurt, “oh, I see”.

Your heart squeezes a little and you find yourself speaking before you think, “it’s not like that, Charlie”.

You see Bucky give you a sharp look and your head starts to spin again. How the hell did you end up in this position? There was a time you couldn’t even get a guy to call you back and now you have 2 boyfriends? Well, kind of.

You scrub your hands down your face and let out a sigh before looking to Charlie, “what happened? I saw you die. Where have you been all this time?”.

Charlie nods like he was expecting these questions, “I don’t have all the answers. One second, I have a gun to my head and I’m watching you knowing my number is up and the next I wake up in a dark cell and get tortured for the next 3 years”.

Before you can say anything, Bucky cuts in with only two words, “prove it”.

Charlie stares daggers into Bucky and it leaves a prickly heat spread across your skin, “what the fuck man?”.

Bucky shrugs, unfazed by the aggressive tone, “I know the story. I was the one that found Y/N at a Hydra base. If you were really kept and tortured by Hydra for the last 3 years, there’d be proof”, Bucky pauses to wiggle his metal fingers, “trust me. I know”.

Charlie scraps the chair against the floor, the sound echoing around the room as he lifts up his shirt. Scars of all shapes and sizes criss cross his chest and stomach. It’s a sight that has you step towards him before you finally catch yourself. Your feelings are all over the place. You don’t even know what’s an appropriate reaction anymore.

Bucky is the one to speak again, “how did you escape?”.

Charlie looks to you, anger clearly blazing in his dark brown eyes, “what the fuck is with this guy?”.

They both look to you and it makes you feel like a mother being asked to pick between her children. You want to scream, you want to run, you want to hide, but you know this situation won’t sort itself out. It’ll still be a mess for when you come back.

You look at Bucky and your trust in him is unwavering, woven into the fabric of why you love him, that unbreakable trust.

You look to Charlie and you know you still love him, the man that grew up with you, the man that was taken from you.

You turn your back on them and place your hands on the kitchen counter. You needed a moment to think, to sort through the jumble in your head, without the feel of them watching everything you do. Without the expectations.

You let your shoulders slump and say without even turning around, “how did you escape Charlie?”.

The room goes quiet for a few moments before Charlie replies emotionless, “they let me go”.

Bucky barks out a dark laugh as you slowly turn to face him again. For the first time since you saw him suspicion starts to bloom, “you expect me to believe they just…let you go?”.

Charlie walks around the island towards you and you can practically feel Bucky like a livewire in the room. Charlie grips your upper arms and looks into your eyes with a sincerity that would be hard to fake, but maybe it was the close proximity that had you all out of whack.

Charlie murmurs, “would I lie to you babe? Give me the hard truth or pass me the hard liquor, remember?”.

You smile briefly at the old saying you used to share as you say, “you don’t know where the hard liquor is”.

Charlie grins, “I wouldn’t need to. It was always the hard truth. And telling you that they let me go is the hard truth exactly because of your reaction. If I wanted you to trust what I said straight off the bat I would have made something more convincing up”.

He had a point and it was hard to argue when he was there, standing in front of you. When he was solid flesh and breathing the same air as you. You feel your resolve crumble a bit as you whisper, “you’re really alive”.

Charlie pulls you into a hug as he nods against you, “yeah babe, I’m really alive and there wasn’t a day I didn’t think about you”.

After a few moments Bucky’s voice fills the silence, “you want to hear another hard truth? It doesn’t make sense for Hydra to just let you go. It would be easier for them to kill you than to let you go unless you were still useful to them”.

You step away from Charlie at the sound of Bucky’s voice and turn to Bucky, “you’re probably right, but we have time to figure that out”.

Bucky shakes his head, looking down at the floor before finding your eyes again, “F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you watch our new guest while I talk to Y/N in private”.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. replies immediately, “of course, Barnes”.

You glance back at Charlie before following Bucky out of the room and all the way down the hall, out of earshot of the kitchen even for a super soldier.

Bucky shakes his head again, “I have a bad feeling about this, Doll”.

You roll your eyes, “I wonder why my current boyfriend has a bad feeling about my ex-boyfriend that was supposed to be dead but has come back?”.

Anger flares in his eyes, “it’s more than that, Y/N. There’s something that isn’t adding up, something we’re missing. You can’t tell me you don’t feel it to”.

You cross your arms, “I don’t actually”.

“Oh come on!-“.

“No, Buck. You come on. Someone I cared about…care about has come back from the grave and yes there are questions that need answers but…I saw him die Bucky, can’t I just have a few moments?”, you start the sentence angry but it ends in a whisper.

Bucky’s face softens at your tone. He wraps his arms around your waist to pull you into him, placing a hard kiss to the crown of your head. You breathe him in and take a moment to thank the stars for someone as understanding as Bucky.

Bucky murmurs into your hair, “I’m sorry, I get it, I just want to keep you safe. Besides, we can talk about it more at dinner tonight”.

You pull back slightly to look up at him, “I mean, we’re not going to dinner now”.

Bucky frowns, “what? Why?”.

You pull away from him to see if he was being serious, “did you not just listen to a word I said?”.

Bucky nods, “yeah, of course I did. But we’ve had this dinner planned for ages, Doll, we can’t cancel it now”.

You shake your head at him in disbelief, “it’s not every day that someone’s ex comes back from the dead, so I think that’s a good enough reason to skip the dinner just this once, Buck”.

You start to walk back to the kitchen when “no!”, bursts from Bucky.

You turn to look at him, anger heating up your skin, “what the hell is the matter with you, Barnes?!”

Bucky exhales heavily, head hung low. When he finally looks up at you, he’s wearing his boyish half grin like he’s just accepted the way life has dealt his hand, “this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, and I can’t believe my own goddamn luck”.

“What’s going on, Bucky?”, you ask, confusion tainting your words.

Bucky takes a deep breath before he pulls out a red velvet box. Your heart stops at the sight but it takes a few moments for your muddled brain to register what it is until he opens it. A perfect silver ring sits innocently inside.

Words abandon you as you stare at the man in front of you. Bucky says softly, “I was only pushy about dinner because I was going to propose tonight. I had the whole evening planned and everything. Everyone was involved…but the how and what and when doesn’t really matter. It’s the why. I love you, Y/N. More than I ever thought I could. I honestly don’t deserve you, but you make me a better man and my world is brighter with you in it. So, I want you to stay in it, forever”.

He closes the distance between you, but it gives you little comfort and you will him not to say the words, but he does, and it breaks your heart, “will you marry me?”.

You shake your head as your vision blurs. You’re thankful for the tears so you don’t have to look at the hurt that will be written on his face, “I can’t. I can’t do this right now, Buck”.

As your tears fall, his face comes back into focus, hurt and uncertainty all mixed together, “I don’t understand. I know things are complicated and this may not have been the best time, but we love each other, don’t we?”.

“Of course, we do”, you whisper the words that you know are true, so why is this so hard?

“Then I don’t understand-“.

You cut him off, needing the words to come out before they kill you from the inside out, “because I love him too. It’s not like we broke up. We didn’t do anything terrible to each other or let the relationship breakdown. He was taken from me Bucky. I watched him die. When someone dies you move on, but you don’t stop loving them”.

The more you speak the more distance Bucky puts between you, each step he takes is like feeling a piece of your soul leaving, “so what does that mean for us?”.

You go to reach for him but think better of it as you answer, “you have to help me here a little, okay? This isn’t a normal situation. I need time to think. There’s just too much going on right now”.

Bucky bows his head, avoiding eye contact and states, “yeah, time. I think I can do that”. Bucky turns and walks down the rest of the hallway to the elevator.

You call his name even as the elevator doors shut. You stand in the emptiness for a few moments and swipe your hands over your cheeks and under your eyes. You straighten your shoulders and walk back into the kitchen to find Charlie sitting at the island.

He looks up when you walk in, glancing behind you, “where’s your bodyguard?”.

You’re surprised at how much ease you reply to him with, “gone for a walk. I thought maybe we could chat”.

Charlie beams at you and you manage a smile back but only until you ask a serious question, “what were they torturing you for this whole time?”.

His smile vanishes and the quickness of it almost startles you, but you ignore it as he starts speaking again, “it was about you”.

You sigh, knowing it would be, but not wanting this conversation with Charlie right now, “so you know then”.

He flashes you a look, “yeah, eventually I did. Why didn’t you tell me you used to work for Hydra?”.

You turn away from him as he says the truth aloud. You don’t speak so Charlie fills the silence again, “does he know?”.

You toss the answer over your shoulder, “everyone on the team knows”.

You hear the hurt in Charlie’s voice, “and you didn’t tell me?”.

You turn to face him again, “I told them after you were dead, or at least I thought you were dead. I was too ashamed to tell anyone, but I was a mess after I thought you had died. When they did it-when I thought…I nearly told them everything just to end it-“.

“Why didn’t you?”, Charlie asks.

You shrug, “it would have felt like you had died for nothing, because of you I never told a soul. Not even any of the good guys. That information would be too dangerous even for someone with good intentions”.

Charlie gestures like he understands and you’re grateful for it. There’s a pause before he says softly, “can I have some more coffee?”.

You nod and turn back to the coffee maker, barely having time to reach for it when you feel a pinch in your neck and strong arms wrapping around you.

You don’t understand until your limbs become too heavy and the room sways. You stumble but Charlie catches you, whispering, “that was all I needed to hear”. Then everything goes black.

[mxliv-oftheendless]

Black Dahlia (Chapter 10)

ALLLRIGHHT, TUMBLR! Strap in y’all, cuz the final battle of this crazy story has arrived! I hope I did this epic scene justice (but knowing me I probably didn’t), but that’s up for you dear readers to decide! Read on and enjoy, bc I’m SUPER excited for y’all to read this chapter! 

Tag: @cosmicrealmofkissteria

Back on Earth, the Star Portal glowed again, and the transport shot out.

“Remember what you’re gonna do?” Starchild asked Heather.

“Wait until after the second verse, you’ll introduce me, then I come out,” Heather replied easily.

Starchild smiled. “Great.” He threw an arm around Heather’s shoulders and hugged her tightly, a look of excitement clear on his face. “This is gonna be awesome!”

As the transport landed back into the ground, Demon contacted Manny. “We’re here, Goldman!” he said. “Open the gates, and let the Army in. We need to rock and roll!”

KISS and Heather quickly flew off to the main stage and headed backstage. Heather briefly put a hand over her face, and her face and hand glowed black and purple. Then, an intricate painting of a black dahlia flower appeared over her left eye.

It was the face markings she had used back in the 80s: her usual small black flowers along the right side of her face, and a larger black dahlia over her left eye.

Then the rest of her glowed, and her outfit changed. Her black leather jacket remained the same, but she now wore a tighter shirt that was a color purple so dark it was nearly black, black leather pants, and black platform boots with thin silver chains that, although lower than the guys’ boots, still raised her up a few inches off the ground. Dark purple lipstick appeared on her lips as her hair turned black again, and the look was completed by black fingerless gloves, dark purple nail polish, and black eye shadow.

When she was finished, she turned to Starchild, who had been watching her costume change. He looked it over, grinned, and gave her a thumbs up. “Lookin’ good! I mean, not as good as me, but still!”

Heather scoffed and smacked his arm. “Whatever. I look fabulous and you know it.”

Starchild laughed, and for a moment, Heather could swear it was 1981 again, and they were both getting ready for a concert. She’d missed this, the casual banter, and the exhilaration that came from knowing that you were about to play before millions of screaming fans. She could even hear the screaming fans right now, even from backstage.

The stage lights darkened, and the cheering got louder—the concert was starting soon.

“Okay, we’re gonna get onstage. You wait back here and wait for my introduction,” Starchild said to her.

Heather nodded. “Got it. Knock ‘em dead!”

A few seconds after KISS went onstage, Shandi appeared, wearing a headset and, Heather was pleased to see, clothes more fitting for a head techie. She glanced over at Heather, and did a double take, looking at her in surprise. “So you are going to be playing with them,” she said. “Did the guys clear you on what’s going to happen?”

“Yep,” Heather nodded. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Great. Here.” Shandi handed her a black sphere—a smoke bomb. “They told me to give this to you. Good luck!”

“Thanks. Same to you.”

Shandi walked off, leaving Heather alone. There was a pause, in which all she heard was the screaming of the KISS Army. Then a familiar voice boomed out of the speakers, making her smile widely.

“ALLLLLRIGHHHTTT, KISS WORLD! YOU WANTED THE BEST, YOU GOT THE BEST! THE HOTTEST BAND IN THE WORLD… KISS!”

The opening chords to “Detroit Rock City”, then the drum beat, and then it sounded like the world exploded.

Even from backstage, the magnitude of what was going on out onstage was flooring Heather. It seemed that in the years she’d been gone, they had increased the scale of their stage theatrics. More explosions, more pyrotechnics, more flashing lights, and more lasers. Starchild’s powerful voice crashed through the speakers, the bassline made the floor vibrate, the drums pounded into her head, and the electric guitars screamed out. And any minute now, she would be going on and being a part of all that. Adrenaline began to rush through her veins, and a smile of pure delight burst across her face.

All too soon, the first and second verses were done, and Heather heard Starchild shout into the mic. “How ya doin’, KISS World?”

The crowd screamed back in reply.

“We got a surprise for all of you here tonight! Tonight, we’re gonna bring out someone for you all to meet! She’s a very special friend of ours, going way back to before KISS was even thought of! She played with us for a while, and tonight she’ll play with us again! Ladies and gentlemen, make some noise for Heather McMann, the Black Dahlia!”

Heather threw the smoke bomb down on the ground, and disappeared in a gust of smoke.

Onstage, there was an explosion in the middle of the stage, and from out of the smoke, Heather emerged. The force of the screaming audience nearly lifted her off her feet, but she raised her guitar pick and began to play.

While Starchild was the rhythm guitarist and Spaceman was the lead guitarist, Heather had been what they dubbed “the harmony guitarist.” She was responsible for playing notes that harmonized with Spaceman’s lead guitar line. Her harmony line blended well with the other guitar lines, to create a sound that was entirely unique to their band. And she could tell the crowd was loving it—their cheering had gotten louder, if possible.

Starchild went back to singing. “Movin’ fast, doin’ ninety-five. Hit top speed, but I’m still movin’ much too slow. I feel so good, I’m so alive!”

Heather smiled slightly at that lyric. That was describing her right now perfectly.

“I hear my song playin’ on the radio. It goes—”

Heather sang into the mic with Spaceman, her more feminine voice blending nicely with all the guys’ voices. “Get up!”

“Everybody’s gonna move their feet!”

“Get down!”

“Everybody’s gonna leave their seat!”

Heather suddenly felt a rumble shake the stage, that definitely wasn’t from KISS’s pyrotechnics. And it was then that she remembered what they were even supposed to be doing in the first place. They had to stop the Destroyer, obliterate him for good.

And luckily, this time around, she knew exactly how they were all going to do that.

Spaceman launched into the bridge, and his blue glow formed around him. A blue light came out of his guitar, and flew up into the air. Heather knew what the light had been—it would be their way of projecting their astral forms into the portal to wherever the gang had led the Destroyer.

Starchild and Heather joined his playing, and Starchild turned purple, while Heather turned black, purple, and red. Shafts of light their respective colors flew out of their guitars, joining Spaceman’s. Catman banged his drums, him and his drum set glowing green, and Demon’s bassline shook the stage, their green and red lights flying into the air.

As they played, all of them in deep concentration, Heather’s sight shifted out of focus.

She was back in the portal. Behind her was the KISS Kraft, and before her was the Destroyer. He truly lived up to every menacing description of him… but Black Dahlia was not afraid.

Spaceman was projecting powerful blasts of lightning at him. Catman was swinging his claws, creating deep indentations in his body. Starchild’s Starbeams made deep fissures in his sides. And Demon’s Demonfire created giant burn marks. The Destroyer was roaring in pain, being blown back away from the KISS Kraft. He was weak, almost destroyed (no pun intended). But it still wasn’t enough.

Black Dahlia raised her arms. Black/purple/red flowers appeared in the air around her, and she sent them flying towards the Destroyer. They landed all over his body, and one after the other, exploded. The Destroyer roared in pain once more.

Then suddenly she was back at the concert, and Starchild was singing the last verse.

Heather felt another explosion shake the stage that wasn’t from the pyrotechnics, and smiled widely.

They had done it. They had finally done what their ancestors had sought to do thousands of years ago… all with the help of her nephew and his group of mystery-solver friends.

If I’m dreaming, I never want to wake up.

“I got to laugh, ‘cause I know I’m gonna die… Why?”

Heather wanted to laugh herself at that lyric. They were not going to die today. Not today, and not for a long time after this.

“Get up!”

“Everybody’s gonna move their feet!” 

Their playing seemed to have extra energy to it now—probably due to what they had just accomplished.

“Get up!”

“Everybody’s gonna leave their seat!”

And with the final chords, and one final leap into the air from Starchild, the song ended and the stage went dark.

Immediately, Heather felt Starchild tackling her in a hug. She could hear him laughing in her ear, and she was laughing too. Spaceman was raising his fist in the air, smiling like there was no tomorrow. Above them on his platform, Catman was pumping both his fists, shouting in victory. And Demon was smiling too, a rare, genuine smile.

When Starchild let go of her, Heather looked out at the crowd. The crowd was still going wild, and there were spotlights out on five forms crowd-surfing above everyone’s heads. When Heather looked closer, she saw it was the kids and Scooby Doo. They were all unconscious—Scooby’s tongue was lolling out of his mouth—but they seemed completely uninjured. Relief flowed through her, and if possible, she smiled even wider. They had beat the Destroyer, and the kids were all right? She almost asked Starchild to pinch her to see if she was dreaming.

They still had to worry about what would happen when the kids woke up, and the Crimson Witch. Not only her, but the other Crimson Witch, the one that had put this entire night into motion.

But they could worry about that later. For now, they had a concert to finish.

[thelittlestspider]

💜���

@mvcreates

💜- top 3 favorite lines

hmmmm. okay forewarning: this is gonna be long. also spoilery. 

1. sage “kills” owen.

[warning(s): car accident, violence, torture, blood, guns, gunshots, and crying.]   

sageis driving when the tires are shot out, causing them to spin out andflip over a bridge. Sage is hella pissed. Like burn the world downpissed. She drags violet and carter out of the vehicle, laying themdown safely out of sight, and then goes to hunt down the fucker thatdared to try and kill them.

Shegoes up to the bridge to see a boy and a girl who she thinks might besiblings, holding guns in their hands. Sage holds up her hands tomake them feel safe.

“whoare you” asks sage, slowly edging closer to them.

Theboy smirks. There’s a look in his eyes sage dislikes immediately,something evil. “hm, nobody you need to worry about.”

sage’smouth quirks. “i doubt that.” she glances at the girl, then atthe gun aimed at her. They are fools, the both of them. She wouldhave thought they were trained better than this.

Sagegrabs the gun out of the girl’s hand, punching her hard enough todaze her. She spins lightning fast to hit the boy with the butt ofthe gun, then slams her hand against his chest with enough force tobreak ribs, dropping him to the ground. When he holds the gun up,wheezing for breath, sage wrenches it from his grasp. He glares ather with a hatred that would be frightening if he wasn’t so pathetic.

“thiswas your idea, wasn’t it?” she asks, voice low, soft. “i hopeyou’re satisfied with what happens to you now.” his sister screamsat the first gunshot, tears streaking her face, her handoutstretched. Sage glances at her. “get out of here while you stillcan. I might not feel so charitable once i’m done with your brother.”

theboy gurgles as blood fills his lungs. His sister cries. Sage watchesthe scene, unmoved by their pain.

“what’syour name?” the girl looks up at her with frightened eyes, lipsquivering against her sobs.

“w-what?”

“yourname.”

thegirl opens her mouth and closes it again, struggling to draw breathinto her lungs. “bella. My name is bella.”

“thankyou. I just wanted to know who i’m dealing with.” sage walks aroundthe boy’s legs to stand next to his side. He gives her that glareagain. She narrows her eyes at him, places her foot on his gunshotwound, and presses down. “Now i’m going to offer you a way out ofthis. You leave him here, I spare your life, you live the life you’vealways wanted free of this cancer.” he screams as she presses downharder, grinding her heel into his wound. “he made you do this,didn’t he? He’s always making you do things you hate.”

“yes,”whispers bella. More tears fall down her face. Bella’s guilt ispalpable.

“go.”

bellastands on shaky legs and walks away. She doesn’t look back.

i mean. it’s gonna have to be rewritten but like sage is so fucking raw in this scene i had to put it here. 

2. nina tells carter about her abusive ex kyle. i really like bc it was one of the scenes i wrote that solidified the bromance between them. 

[warning(s): talk of emotional abuse and gaslighting.]

the party has been going approximately an hour, when they realize nina is nowhere to be found. Violet sends carter to make sure nina hasn’t been kidnapped or eaten, or boarded herself up in the bedroom to avoid an awkward conversation.

Eventually carter finds her sitting in one of the lawn chairs in the backyard, gazing up at the night sky. She looks so serious sitting there, knees pulled up to her chest. Carter wonders if the void would give him the answers to life’s mysteries if he asked, or if it would stare back at him with its vast coldness, as unknowable and everchanging as time itself.

He plops himself into the chair next to nina, deciding nina’s troubles are more important than the void.

“are you alright?” asks carter, copying nina’s sitting position.

“yeah, i’m fine. I get overwhelmed when it’s a big crowd of people. So sometimes I have to go hide away somewhere when it gets too much.”

“um, ever since I was a kid, i’ve always liked going out at night and talking to the moon. I’d tell her about my day, or about the books I was reading.” nina smiles jewel bright in the faint moonlight. “kyle always told me I was weird for doing that.”

“was kyle nice to you?”

“most of the time. I guess.” nina looks down at her hands, fiddling with a thread on the sleeve of her cardigan.

Carter waits for her to speak.

“kyle could be really mean sometimes. He would tell me I was weird and that’s why I had to have the moon as my friend, because I couldn’t get anyone to be friends with me.” nina’s eyes become shiny as she talks, reliving an open wound. “and when i’d cry because it hurt so bad, he told me he was sorry. Then he would um,” nina sniffles, wiping tears away with her sleeve. “he would buy me gifts, take me out to dinner; that kind of thing. He was so sweet that I forgave him, and I’d start to wonder if I had overreacted, like maybe I just blew it out of proportion.”

“but I wasn’t carter, I wasn’t.” nina’s face scrunches up. “he didn’t care about me at all. When the ghosts hurt me, he didn’t believe me. He said I was just making it up for attention.” carter wraps his arms around nina, rubbing her back as she cries. “tiffany was the only person who believed me.”

“i’m going to set him on fire,” says carter, deadly calm. “and then i’m going to use him to light my cigarette.”

“please don’t do that,” nina hugs carter tight, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “but thank you.”

some of this is gonna be rewritten bc of plot related stuff, but i still really like the lines in this.

3. carter confides in nina about a one night stand gone wrong and about his past. nina is heartbroken. 

warning(s): mentioned slutshaming, implied domestic violence and sexual assault. it’s not graphic or anything like that, but still heed the warnings just in case.

nina hears carter take gasping breaths behind the door as he cries, and holds her clasped hands to her chest, a terrible ache in her gut. She recognizes that kind of crying; the kind of sound you make when you try so hard to stop, but you can’t because it’s pouring out of you. All of the hurt comes out in these kinds of moments. Nina closes her eyes, bracing herself for the fallout.

She raps her knuckles on the door. “carter, can I come in?”

“come in.”

carter’s sitting on the toilet seat, lips pressed together against another sob. His face and eyes are red and his nose is dripping. He grabs a handful of toilet paper and wipes his face, trying to look brave for Nina and utterly failing in the attempt. Nina looks back at him, thinking Who did this. Nina sits on the floor next to him, back resting against the cabinet, arms draped around her knees. She waits there looking down at her nails to stop herself from looking directly at carter’s downturned face. The trick to getting carter to open up is to let him talk first. She tried to force it once and saw that naked look in his eyes, before he flew away like a startled bird. Out of the corner of her eye, carter sniffs wetly, tears clinging to his lashes.

“i’m sorry,” rasps carter. “i didn’t want anyone to see me like this.”

nina chances a look at him. “what happened?” carter opens his mouth, then closes it. More tears fall.

“some guy I went out with, we– we were having fun. And um, he asked if i’d go back to his place. So I said, “okay.” but once we got there…” carter blinks, eyes distant. “he started getting mean. He called me a, a slut, and he sounded so much like him, I just couldn’t–” he puts a hand against his mouth, lips trembling. “i left.”

I’m so sorry, Nina thinks, blinking back the warm pinpricks behind her eyes. She clenches her hands into fists, feeling her palms itch with the urge to hurt whoever gave carter these wounds.

“if I ever find him, he’s a goner,” says nina, jaw set.

“bella beat you to it,” replies carter with a watery smile.

i can’t spoil what’s gonna happen, but nina sort of plays a part in owen’s eventual downfall. 

👻- 2 or 3 sentences from something you haven’t posted yet

tiffanysees carter grinning down at his phone during break and it takeseverything in her not to lean over his shoulder to find out who he’stexting. The curiousity is killing her.

“so…”she settles onto the stool next to carter, trying to be cool andfailing miserably. “okay you know I can’t be chill about anything.Who are you texting?”

“there’sthis girl. Her name is nina. She likes ballet and horror andantiques. She’s really cool.”

“likebuddy cool or girlfriend cool?” carter looks at her with such blankconfusion – like the thought of nina being anything more than afriend had never occurred to him – tiffany almost laughs out ofreflex. Luckily she doesn’t. She’d hate to put that red tinged,shamed look on his face he wears when he feels he’s done somethingwrong, only he doesn’t know what and he’s being laughed at for it.It’s a look she’s seen him wear too often.

“well,i’m glad you made a friend. I know how hard it is for you.” tiffanyprobably knows better than anyone how hard it is to find a friend.Especially when everyone knows you’re different.

It’sone of the loneliest things in the world.

[sannisideup]

obey

The sounds of childish laughter resonate throughout the garden, a young boy with blonde hair running across the lawn screaming in joy between his giggles. Behind him follow more children, one with jet-black hair and a cheeky smile, one who looks massively bigger than the rest, a little girl with a blunt sword almost the size of her in her hand, and two skinny boys, one with black hair cut extremely short and the other with shaggy blonde hair.  

“Thor, you’re too fast,” Volstagg says, his breath catching.

“You’re just too slow,” Thor teases, turning his head to blow a raspberry at Volstagg. He doesn’t notice the root jutting out in front of him and trips over it, sprawling across the garden. He hears the sounds of his friends and brother laughing, and feels like he’s about to burst into tears.

“Are you okay, Thor?” Sif asks, her face looming over his. Thor wants to go to his Mother and cry in her fancy gown. He doesn’t want to talk to these people right now. His knees hurt and he wants Freida.

“Go away,” he whines, his voice cracking slightly as he tries not to cry in front of all of them. He’s going to be the King of Asgard soon and he doesn’t want Father to not make him king because he cried like a baby.

“Awww, is Thor going to cry?” Loki asks, crouching over his older brother’s body. He has a cheeky smirk on his face and Thor wants to kick his little brother. Sometimes he wishes Loki was never born because ugh, he is so annoying. Like how Heimdall never lets him visit any of the other Realms without ‘adult supervision’, whatever that means.

“Shut up, Loki,” Thor lets out, feeling kind of angry. Especially because none of his friends have listened to him. They’re all surrounding Thor as if he’s a new toy that they don’t know what to do with. Plus, he’s going to be The King, they should be listening to him! He hopes and wishes he can get new friends and a better little brother tomorrow.

“Maybe we should call Aunty Freida,” Hogun offers, and Thor thinks of him as his only true friend at the moment.

“No, Thor’s a big boy, he doesn’t need Mommy,” Loki rejects and lets out a little giggle. Suddenly, in place of Loki there is a little puppy and Thor giggles. He loves puppies! They’re so cute and soft and cuddly!

“Volstagg, don’t hit it!” Sif screams just as Volstagg is about to stomp on the furry creature.

“But, it’s weird-looking,” Volstagg replies, his face tilting as he examines the four-legged being.

“It’s a puppy, silly,” Thor informs him as he tries to sit up. When he feels his knee sting further, a tear escapes his eye.

“Thor, are you crying?” Fandral asks, half-distracted by the puppy now sniffing around him. “Stop that.” He points his finger threateningly at the small mammal.

“Shut up!” Thor shouts. In the distance, lightning cackles. “I want all of you to go away.” When no one moves, he grows angry. “I said, go away!” He wants to hit all of them but he can’t because otherwise he knows his Mother will tell him that he shouldn’t go around hitting his friends. But he’s going to be King, and people should be listening to him. Yes, that’s what he’ll tell his mother the next time she scolds him. “Go away! That’s an order!” His friends look at him oddly and the puppy jumps onto Thor’s lap. “Obey! I’m going to be King of-”

“You’re caught, come catch us!” Loki squeals, as he pushes over Thor and runs away from his older brother. Thor’s lap is now curiously empty. His friends follow Loki, rushing after him trying to create some distance. Thor lunges after them, running to catch his little brother, barely feeling the sting in his leg anymore. He’s going to tell his Mother all about how Loki is a little cheater!

~ “maybe you’re not so bad after all, brother.” ~

679 words

i legit have this headcanon that loki & thor always take care of each other no matter what & it was only as they got older than loki got more bitter towards thor thanks to odin, father of the millenium™. 

also, amidst so many angsty post-iw fanfiction & posts, i thought a little fluffy loki & thor bromance would be a good way to appreciate, love & laugh w/ these characters. im hoping & praying loki comes back bc my bois have only gotten back to being proper brothers™ and now he’s fucking dead???

also that final quote is from ragnarok @ the end when they’re on the ship.

also idc if loki can’t actually shapeshift into a puppy. fuck that shit. in this he can :)

also 2002 by anne-marie & let me by zayn are nice songs. no they dont have anything to do with this but huhu just felt like sharing that information :)

[buckyslightsaber]

Paranoid

Request: None

Pairing: King Arthur (The Legend of the Sword) x Reader

Summary: Arthur can’t find you and he get’s extremely anxious. (Happens while Arthur is still in Londinium)

 Warnings: I think I swore somewhere in there.

Word count: 2,650

A/N: I’m debating whether or nor I  should delete this account since I barely even post anything ever, but for now, have this King Arthur: Legend of the Sword imagine because i just rewatched it for like the fifth time today. I swear this was meant to be short and lightweight but you know me wh00ps (honestly don’t even like this one sm, I’m just posting it bc it’s the first thing I’ve written in aaaaaggeesss)

My Masterlist

Paranoid

Arthur let out a deep breath as he felt himself being pulled out of his unconscious state and back into his bed, where the sunlight began to stream in. It flooded the room, illuminating it with a dim glow and slight warmth, something he appreciated deeply. He had yet to open his eyes, but a small smile already invaded his features.

This smile was due to one thing and one thing in particular: you. Arthur’s mind was swamped with memories of last night’s happenings, contently basking in every touch and laugh the two of you shared, not to mention everything else that came after that. His brain recreated your face so beautifully in front of lids, which were shut, that he couldn’t keep himself from thinking of you persistently.

After a while, Arthur’d had enough of imagining your face and felt an urge to see it for himself again. He wanted to be able to study every dip and curve on it, and engrave it into his memory more than it already was, if that was even possible.

Prompted by these desires, Arthur slowly rolled over, gently cracked his eyes open. To his dismay, he was greeted by an empty bed.

How weird; he could’ve sworn you’d stayed the night. Hell, he remembered all the times he’d fallen into fleeting moments of consciousness, looking around only to be met with your angelic features, unbothered as you rested next to him.

It couldn’t have been a dream. No, he was sure of it.

Maybe you’d already gotten up.

Following this thought process Arthur slowly peeled the fur blanket off his almost naked figure, swinging his legs over the bed as he pulled himself up. Quietly, he padded over to the bathroom. He stood in front of the door. “Y/N?” Arthur called out, not wanting to sneak up on you and scare you. He stayed still, observing the unperturbed wooden door, which he later opened, only to find the bathroom was empty. His frown only deepened at this finding, assuming you must’ve gone downstairs. You always did like having an early breakfast with the girls. Walking back to his room, Arthur snatched up some clothes and got dressed quickly.

Downstairs, the main room was rather full. The girls ate breakfast and chatted as some men hung out with them, striking up conversation, too. As he descended down the stairs, Arthur adjusted his jacket, scanning the room. You were nowhere to be found. He sighed, walking up to WetStick and nudging him, drawing his attention. “‘Haven’t seen Y/N, have you mate?”

WetStick raised an eyebrow. “Thought she was with you.”

Arthur blew out a breath. “Was. I think she left earlier this morning. ”

“You sure? I’ve been up since the wee morning, ‘aven’t seen her.” BackLack chimed in joining the boys. He had a piece of bread in his hands and crumbles falling out of his mouth as he spoke.

Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. There’s no way you could’ve left without him seeing you. Still, he tried to ignore the uneasy feeling he got. He was probably just being paranoid.

WetStick and BackLack shared a look, which then fell on Arthur, who’s gaze was instead fixated on the floor. WetStick spoke up, stealing the words out of BackLack’s mouth .“Is she alright?”

Arthur didn’t reply immediately, instead nodding. “O’ course”. It wasn’t a lie, was it? Y/N had to be alright, she’d just left early without anyone seeing her. That had to be it, right? Without directing another word to either of them, Arthur simply strolled out of the brothel, calmly closing the door behind him, leaving the two men to wonder what was going on.

Arthur, however, didn’t mind that he’d just left his two pals completely dumbfounded. All he wanted to do was find you and make sure you were alright.

He plotted out a path in his head, the first stop being the market. On his way there he saw Mike, who was selling furs. Instead of pestering him and demanding money from him, he decided to first ask about you instead. “Oi Mike. You know Y/N, yeah?”

Mike, who was busy unloading his furs, merely looked up to answer. “Your girl? Ye.”

“Great. She hasn’t happened to have strolled through here, has she?” He pressed, leaning against Mike’s wagon, calculating how much Mike would owe him for transporting all this fur. Mike shook his head. Fuck.

“Alright then.” As Arthur began to back away, he tried his best not to sound worried. He turned to Mike once more, considering whether or not he’d make Mike pay up. Finally, he decided he had more important matters to attend to, and just let him be for now. He’d have to have another talk with him about paying his damn commission later.

Upon arriving at the market, he noted it was, like the brothel, quite more packed than usual. On a regular day he’d stop and observe amateur pick pockets with WetStick and BackLack, an activity they found rather entertaining when they had the time for it. Other times, he’d work his own thieving magic on passerbys, but today, he had time to do neither.

His eyes stopped on a small figure, wearing a coat he’d seen on you many times before. As relief washed over his system, he moved swiftly, his expert footwork allowing him to sift through the crowd seamlessly. He snaked his arm around your waist, making you jump and instantly turn around to face him. Except it wasn’t you.

The lady staring back at Arthur was a complete stranger. She stared at him as if he were a pervert, and honestly, he couldn’t blame her. “Sorry miss.” He murmured, scurrying away quickly to hide his embarrassment, feeling the nervousness and anxiety regarding your whereabouts settle in again: If you weren’t in the market, where the hell else could you be?

Arthur kept his head down as his feet led him towards the ports, still making sure to be very aware of all the faces moving past him, not wanting to miss yours because he was distracted.

Unlike everywhere else today, the ports were relatively empty. It wasn’t absolutely devoid of people, he realized, it was just because the vikings’ spot was empty.

Shoving his hands into his jacket and pushing down his nerves, Arthur neared a familiar man working at a fruit stand. He’d met and talked to the man before, but his name always seemed to slip Arthur’s mind for some strange reason. The man called Arthur’s name, to which he replied with a nod.

“Where are the vikings?” Arthur asked, glancing back at the spot where the men had been just days ago.

The man merely shrugged, his lips falling into a straight line. “Lord knowns. They left at the crack of dawn. Raided the streets, took some girls wit’ ‘em. One girl was particularly petrified.” Arthur scrunched his nose as he began to get a bad feeling about this story. “Twas sad really. But you know how it is, I wasn’t about to intervene and get me head chopped off.”

Arthur wasn’t sure he’d heard anything the man said after mentioning that ‘one girl’, but he nodded anyway. “What else do you know about the girl. What’d she look like?”

As he heard the man’s description of said girl, Arthur could feel his stomach sinking deeper and deeper inside of him. Apart from how each characteristic he listed sounded peculiarly like you, he couldn’t help but imagine all the things that would happen if that truly was you. He bit down on his lip hard, trying to listen to the rest of the explanation, but the blood pumping fiercely through his veins and behind his ears almost kept him from being able to. Not that he minded, really. That information alone was enough to get his mind going. It killed him to think of you, his beautiful, sweet girl being manhandled by those bastards. Oh the things he’d do if they laid a single, dirty hand on your precious skin.

Arthur felt like he wanted to do multiple things, mostly scream out in anger and beat somebody to a pulp, but for now he just balled his fists at his sides. As soon as the man finished talking, Arthur thanked him and excused himself.

Arthur moved like lightning, marching with heavy footsteps back to the brothel. Even though the menacing frown etched on his face made him look furious on the outside, he felt like he could cry, but he’d save that for later on in the night, when he could be alone with his thoughts. For now he’d have to try his hardest to ignore his dreadful thoughts that were now beginning to eat away at his brain.

“Outta the way.” He called out, shoving people in all directions, moving with fast, abrupt motions. You were his top priority now, it’s not like he’d stop and think about his manners. He almost kicked down the door to the brothel, not bothering to even acknowledge the surprised faces that stared back at him upon entering.

Arthur trudged up to WetStick and BackLack, who were both already conveniently sat together. “The Graybeards took Y/N.” He blurted out, wasting absolutely no time with euphemisms.

Both men looked utterly shocked as they tried to take in Arthur’s words as well his facial expression, a mixture of disgust and genuine anger. They looked like they were about to speak, but Arthur dismissed them with the wave of a hand. “I’ll go upstairs and get my things, then I’ll be back to come up with a plan.” And just like that Arthur was gone again, bolting up the stairs as his mind clouded over with all the different contacts he had that could help him, all the different routes he could take, materials he’d potentially need, and anything else that seemed relevant. He was ready to flip Londinium upside down to get you back safely.

Arthur swung the door to his room open, feeling seconds away from ripping it off its hinges. He took a single step into the room before he froze completely, unable to believe his eyes.

You sat on his bed, nonchalantly looking off somewhere in the distance.  You were right there. One thought swam through his head, jumping out apart from all the others, the most important to him. You were safe.

A couple seconds later you looked up, finally acknowledging his presence. As the weight of a thousand worlds lifted off his shoulders, you began to greet him, but he cut you off as he dove down and hoisted you off the bed in and into the air, his muscular arms nearly knocking the wind out of you. The joy that swelled up inside of him in that second was just indescribable. A section of your clothes was bunched up in one of his hands while the other tangled itself in your hair, pushing you safely into the crook of his neck while he squeezed his eyes shut. He held onto you so tightly that if he pressed even just the tiniest bit harder he’d probably leave an unintentional bruise.

“Arth, you’re hurting me.” Your voice sounded out small and fragile, squeezed through the layers of Arthur’s clothes.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He mumbled into your hair, instantly letting go. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. Arthur pulled you back by your shoulders and took a moment to contemplate your face. Although you were completely confused, to him you looked more beautiful than ever. He didn’t want to waste any time, so he pulled you back into his arms, this time more gently. The hand that was once ferociously gripping onto your clothes was now delicately resting on your waist, while the other stayed on your back. He proceeded to plant a kiss on your forehead, later laying his chin atop your head.

You allowed him to cradle you as you rested your head against his broad chest, listening as his heart beat began to settle down. Both of your hands went under his shirt, rubbing circles on his bare back, something that you’d learned was especially soothing to him.

“My god...” He whispered, thanking every god he could think. He couldn’t be happier to have been wrong. “I was so worried about you, darling.” Arthur mumbled into your hair.

His hands unwrapped themselves from around your figure, letting you stand up straight once again. “What? Why?”

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, letting out a troubled sigh. “I didn’t know where you were. I thought something happened to you. I thought the vikings had taken you, I-”

“Shh, calm down Arth. It’s fine. I’m fine.” You assured him as you ran a hand down his arm, all the way to his big hands now encased around yours.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I was just so worried.” He repeated, stopping again to look at your face. “Where were you, anyway?”

“I went to the market to grab some apples to make your favorite apple pie.”

“But I went to the market. I didn’t see you there.” Arthur replied, confused. He even remembered looking specifically at the apple stand and not seeing you at all.

“I was probably there before you. When I came back the boys said you’d just left.” Oh. His mind took him back to few minutes, when he hadn’t given either of his mates a chance to speak because he was so caught up with all the viking stuff. If he’d let them speak he’d probably spared himself a couple minutes of agony.

Arthur chuckled softly, feeling incredibly stupid for making such a big deal out of nothing. He ran a hand down his face, which you must’ve interpreted as him feeling annoyed with you. “I’m sorry I left so early, but you know how it is, if you don’t get there early you won’t get to pick the good ones. Please don’t be mad.”

Instantly, Arthur shook his head. “Oh, no love. I’m not mad. It’s my fault, I was just being paranoid.” He couldn’t be mad at you, not even if he tried.

He reached over to stroke a piece of your hair that’d fallen out of place. He twirled it around his finger, not looking you in the eye at first, but slowly making his way back up to meet your eyes. “You know I love you right, sweetheart. Very, very much. And I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”

You nodded slowly, looking at him with loving eyes. “Yes, and I love you, too.”

A smile spread across Arthur’s face, the smile that only appeared when he was around you. His eyes danced around your features, stopping at your lips. Scooting closer to you, he leaned in as you did the same, your lips willingly parting. His tender lips moved slowly against yours, not pushy, not needy, but loving and caring instead.

He drew back, still letting your foreheads touch as he brought a calloused hand up to your cheek. Arthur’s didn’t allow his eyes to leave yours until he brought his lips up to your forehead, letting his chin place itself on your head again. “I will always protect you, love.”

Running his fingers through your hair, he felt himself let go of all the emotions he was previously harboring. He never wanted to have to feel that way again. Never wanted to have the thought of something being wrong with you even cross his mind.

You were one of the last bits of happiness and love in his life and he didn't know what he’d do with himself if you were gone. Shuddering at the thought, he closed his eyes again, allowing his mind to drift. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you.” He repeated, more to himself than to you, but still a promise nonetheless.

A promise he very much intended to keep.  

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[lightningandfireinmybones]

in which i indulge my thoughts about the aftermath of King’s Cage bc that epilogue fucked everything up based on the song “fractures” by illenium ft nevve

Fractures

Chapter 1/?

Mare 

He is the sun.

To them, he burns, bright and righteous and true.

He is warmth and leadership and he is too much for me. Too proud, too strong, too much like them.

The crown on his head winks and flashes and screams his place to the world.

I am the storm.

To them, I am a symbol, power and sparks and rage. Too proud, too powerful, too much a liability.

I am cold and vengeance and I am not enough for him.

The blood in my veins pounds and pulses and announces my inadequacy to those who dare to listen. My red blood sings with rage and bitterness.

I may not be enough for him, but I can destroy his world with a brush of my hand.

(I try not to think about the way his hand would brush the knobs of my spine, fire made flesh.) 

I watch the way his bronze eyes focus so singlehandedly on the task at hand, the words from his mouth honest and simple and kingly.

He was the fire prince, and now he is the burning king, and I am so much more than the little lightning girl.

"I thought you said you could handle this," Farley hisses to me, boot kicking my leg. Her kick isn’t gentle, and I’m brought back from my smoky thoughts to my reality; I’m in a war council meeting, and I’m supposed to be making no noise, and pretending I don’t exist if I want to stay where I am.

"I am handling this," I reply, as if there aren't purple sparks soaring to life on my fingers, dying just as fast. 

Farley snorts, cracking her knuckles as if the entirety of the war council isn't colluding important violent things in front of us. Her father looks over, one good eye severe, but it doesn’t stop her. If anything, she thrives on the silent criticism.

"You're not handling this well. Let's go, I don't want to have to explain to anyone that every lightbulb in this place no longer works because you can't get a handle on your feelings," she says, pushing herself off the wall where we'd been leaning against. She didn’t have to blend in with a wall to stop herself from doing something she’d regret, but she’d stayed on the fringes with me anyway. With the confidence of someone who knows no one is going to try to stop her, she saunters from the room. 

Head down, trying desperately not to draw attention to myself, I follow her out, ignoring the way the conversation dies out as Farley and I exit, talk of money and supplies and troops coming to a rapid halt.

His eyes burn into my frame, and I don't need to look over to see the bronze gaze burning me up. I can feel the exact second he lets himself look at me. The heat in the room rises, and I can't make my escape fast enough. Every second his attention is focused on me is another second I'm ripped apart by our decisions, and stitched back together by anger and betrayal and electricity. The heat of his eyes is enough to make my back burn with forgotten blisters, my body mourn for long gone touches, and my fists clench with angry energy. Something smells like burning plastic, and everyone there is reminded of how hurt he truly burns.

(I won't think about the way sheets used to burn up between us, the way his fire scared my nightmares away. I'll think of his words, cold as ice, and the way he looked walking away from me.)

The wall separating us comes both too quick, and not quick enough. I still feel his surprise, hurt, anger, want.

I know, because I feel it too.

I don’t look back, because he did this.

Farley is waiting for me outside the room, tapping her foot like I was hours behind her instead of steps.

“I had a handle on my feelings. Well, most of them anyway. Still learning to handle anger,” I grin up at Farley, sparks down my body.

"You need something to do, somewhere that is not here," She decides, ignoring my poor attempt to regain some dignity at being taken from the room like a child, light footsteps taking her down the hall.

I follow her, because that's what I do.

"Oh, does that mean I actually get to leave now?" I’ve been stuck here while the kings and premiers and the princes and the generals make decisions, and all I want is to let myself loose, to destroy, to feel lightning cleave rock and flesh.

"I can't have you making lights flash and Cal accidentally burning handprints into tables just because you two can't handle your teenage angst. If sending you off somewhere to burn off the energy you used to burn off with him-"

"General Farley-" I spit out between clenched teeth, hyper aware of the wires snaking through the ceiling about our heads, taking electricity back into the room we just left, where he is waiting. 

"Mare Barrow," Farley imitates, "don't complain when I'm giving you full rein to light shit up."

That perks me right up.

Destruction always does.

"What?"

We enter the bright sunlight of Piedmont. It sets Farley's shorn hair on fire, sunlight glinting off the blonde locks. At once, she looks both more severe and more beautiful, scar in sharp relief on her face.

I have to turn my eyes away. Too much is fire in my head. I need to cleanse myself. He made his choice, and so did I. Now, I need to live with it, to cleanse the fire with the lightning.

"I get that you're upset, but you need to get over it. Everyone has something they have to get over. He is just another thing in your past to make you stronger. You're stronger than a failed relationship. Pull your shit together," Farley's words are harsh and sharp. It's everything I need.

"I am angry, General Farley. I am beyond feelings now. Consider my shit together.”

“This isn’t a game. I want you at your best. Can you handle playing with the adults now or are you still stuck in your teenage angst?”

“I got this. I’m fine,” I say clearly.

(I’m not lying if fine covers having your heart broken and the pieces turn to shrapnel inside you, feeling anger define you with every breath you take, and wanting nothing more than to watch the world burn at your feet.)

Farley's hand wraps around my arm, squeezing with a strength no one else would dare. Sparks dance up from my hand, but fizzle out before they reach her fingers. Still, her short hair stands on end, but she makes no indication she feels it.

"Do you got it, Mare? I'm about to send you into an active war zone, and your teenage angst has no place there. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm trusting you. Don't fuck this up," Farley's voice could cut glass.

"Yes, General, I got it," I say, with more confidence and strength than I've had since that disastrous day when everything went down. 

She gives me a long, measured look. I wonder what I look like to her- I know I'm stronger and leaner than I used to be, hair more grey than brown. Do my eyes say what I can't? That I am not who I am supposed to be? Not yet, not anymore.

"Fine. I'm sending you to the Lakelands. Light it up.”

I smile. It feels crooked and meaner than it once was.

"With pleasure."

**

 I settle into the small air jet with a sense of the relief. I need an outlet, a place to let all this ridiculous feeling out. I don't want to feel his absence like a missing limb because he was always my pilot. I want to be the storm, to feel every bit of electricity until that's all I am. Sparks dance down my suit, the purple stark against the tight fitting black. The electricity of the small air jet hums against my back, getting stronger. The ramp starts to close, electricity flowing towards the engines. We’re about to take off, off to somewhere I can let my electricity define me.

I'm going to electrocute the fire prince right out of me.

"That look on your face makes me want to hit it off," a sly voice intones, so close and unexpected that the air jet jolts with me.

Eyes I hadn't even realized had closed open, staring at the slim figure now strapping herself in next to me as nonchalantly if she hadn’t just snuck past me right as the doors were sealing.

"I would think the future queen of Norta would be too important to send to a small mission in the Lakelands," I try not to let surprise, or any other unwanted feeling, like jealousy, color my voice.

Judging by the way Evangeline raises her eyebrows, I don't succeed. 

"Even I need to blow off steam," she mutters, metal armor readjusting itself into something she likes better. It's matte black today, almost like she's trying not to draw attention to herself. Her silvery hair is bound up carefully in an intricate array of braids, leaving her flashing eyes free to drill into me. Only Evangeline would see a mission for the Scarlet Guard as a way to blow off steam.

"Does your father know you're here?"

"No, and neither does Calore, because I know that's what you're really asking about. I need to get out, and this was the first mission available. And you're here, and I'll take any chance to show you up," Evangeline has the poise of someone made for royalty. But I see the strain in her brows, the minute tightening of her harness.

I wish I could hate her more.

"One day, we're going to have a real fight, and we'll see who shows who up," I say, because if I say anything else it'll send both of us over our own personal cliffs. The humming of the jet as it peels down the runway is calming, keeping me grounded to where I need to be.

"Looking forward to it. Who else is coming on this trip?" Evangeline appears relaxed in her seat. She's always been better at this charade than I have. 

"You’re not supposed to be here, are you?” Everything clicks into place at once.

“Not technically, but who’s going to stop me? Besides, I’m already here, and you could use all the help you could get,” Evangeline says impetuously, throwing her head back with an arrogance only she could pull off.

I can’t help a small laugh. “You don’t even know where we’re going.”

“Somewhere I can wreck shit, I’m hoping.”

“We’re going to the Lakelands. A lord there built a prison to keep Red prisoners. He’s already executed the few prisoners he had. He’s out on a vacation to find more right now.  I’m going there to destroy it.”

Evangeline is too good to let me see the emotions beneath her face, but there’s no hiding the way her armor shifts and her fists clench beneath gloves studded with iron. The irony isn’t lost on me, or her. Her control isn’t as ironclad as she wants everyone to think.

It almost humanizes her.

She recovers fast. “Well, you’ll probably mess it up somehow. I’ll be there to fix it when you do.”

“Sure, Evangeline.”

“Who knows? Maybe it’s one of Iris’ relatives,” Evangeline’s grin is just as sharp as the knives sticking out of her boot.

I sigh, leaning further back into my seat as the jet climbs into the air, rougher than I’m used to.

(If I could electrocute the voice in my head that reminds me that Cal could keep it steadier, I would.)

“Why are you really here?” I ask, almost afraid of the answer.

“I needed to get away. From my father, from my mother, from the Guard, from him,” Evangeline answers me, her voice lacking her usual venom, almost startling in its honesty. Big dark eyes framed by pale lashes blink at me, begging me to understand in a way I haven’t seen since she begged for her brother’s life.

She’s just as angry as I am. It pulses through her, through me, and it’s infecting us both. In that moment, I feel her pain, and she feels mine.

I never thought I would say it, but Evangeline Samos and I understand each other in this moment.

I let a smile spread across my face. It’s not pretty, or nice. A matching one spreads across her face, sharp and deadly.  It’s a smile for the destruction we’re about to rain down on our enemies.

“We’re going to destroy them, Little Lightning Girl.”

[momiijisohma]

Heres a thing abt my ocs

While izzy is alive, masa begins to compose a song for her, and its one of her best works yet, and even though its not done she lets izzy hear it and izzy a d o r e s it, and masa cant wait to perfect the piece so that she can share her love of izzy to everyone else who hears it.

But izzy dies before masa is anywhere close to finishing it, and it sits at the back of masas mind for years bc she cant bring herself to touch it. But when eliza comes into her life and masa sees her honoring her deceased through music, she decides to pick it back up, kinda to work her way through her grief

And she doesnt rly put toooo much effort into it, shes busy and wants to focus on her newer music more. But the song is decent. Its tune hasnt rly changed too much but its a lot more flowy and smooth or w/e. And she gets stuck on it for a few months, and it gets on her nerves and she decides to leave it alone again. And she dies. And when she sees izzy again, she feels that familiar jolt of electricity across her skin and her heart is fluttering in her chest and shes taken sO aback bc over the years shed kinda forget juuust how izzy made her feel- alive and about to fucking explode with love and adoration

And after she attends the pin ball and is squirreled away into the heart of the palace to keep her safe from the the publics prying eyes, shes horribly lonely. The empress had been by her side every moment for days but she way away on business and masa has no one with her, except the maids, but they dont linger around for too much. Shes given anything she asks for to keep her entertained, so she asks for a violin. And with the reignited flame in her heart she begins to work on izzys song again, and it comes out with an incredible ease and grace, and she goes over it again and again until its /perfect/ and she hasnt been this excited about music in so long

And masa requests one of the empresses’ knights to escort her out in the gardens, hoping that it’ll be izzy that joins her, but its not. She decides to go along anyway, and begins to let shannon hear the piece but stops half way when she realizes shannon is humming the tune ahead of her. Shes bewildered and embarrassed until shannon tells her they recognize the tune bc its izzys favorite thing to hum in the whole world

Thats not the gayest part,

Masas touched that izzy had held onto the memory of that rough tune to this day and begins to play the song again. When she finishes, she looks up to find the empress, ethereal as ever, standing a few yards away. Shannon asks if shed been looking for them and the empress replies “I thought i heard masa calling for me, and i found myself here”

Fast forward to after masa finds out that izzy is the empress, after their plan has been set and masa is back in the mortal realm, after eliza finds the information shed been looking for and when Ahris plan to take over both the soul and mortal realm starts unfurling.

Up to this point the part of izzy that had stayed in the soul realm had been unwillingly housing Ahri and occasionally ahris presence would drive izzy into these excruciatingly painful seizure like episodes where shed lash out at everything around her (smth that masas touch alone was able to subdue)

And i think ive mentioned this before but the reason that ahri is the way she IS, is bc the GK came into direct contact w her and accidentally granted her immense power, and ahri had been drawing up power from her still loyal subjects in all realms and had kept it in reserves, not even using it the first time izzy entered the empire bc shes a smart cookie. And w this Ridiculous amount of power shes able to overlap?? All three realms. And masa and eliza can seeee izzy writhing in pain bc ahri is trying to fully possess her, and izzy lashes out at eliza for getting too close and eliza pierces straight through her core bc she knows that the only way to separate a possession is to kill the host. So ahri is stripped from izzys body, leaving izzy to slowly and painfully Fade, and masa knew that smth like this was supposed to happen to bring izzy and eliza together into one again but its still dreadful and shes cradling her beloved in her arms and urging eliza to act quickly but eliza is frozen in devastation bc she only Just got her memories back and its still trying to catch up to her and she can barely even THINK

And izzy realizes that shes fading far too slowly and that if she speeds the process up she just. Be absorbed into eliza and they can start kicking ass. So she urges masa to strike through her with her sword and masas in tears and doesnt want to hurt her but goes through it for the greater good (which. Is kind of a foil to how gita and her beloved created their soulmateship lol)

And eliza realizes whats happening as masa cuts through izzy and she lunges toward her other half and they are submerged in a tower of pitch black flames and untouchable. And masa has no idea what the Fuck is going on anymore. The separating of souls is a relatively simple process, w v lil fanfare, but the joining of two soul parts is Loud and Messy, because of the different experiences each part has gone through trying to overlap and become one, and these two bitches have over 20 Years worth in memories to overlap so its Particularly Ugly.

And masa reaches in, in an attempt to pull her beloved out and she can feel the flames blistering her skin and she has to pull back bc of how god awful it hurts and she watches her skin heal as she pulls it out of the fire and she doesnt know what to do and shes screaming at the top of her lungs and ri and momo have to pull her out of harms way bc now that ahris out and about shes just. Fuckin shit UP, and all her followers are wreaking havoc in the overlapping realms and masa would have had her head torn off had it not been for her and izzys reflections. And they pull her away to safety, behind a barrier the empire’s guard had created inside a high school’s auditorium and masa is kicking and flailing the whole way there bc she neeeeds to reach izzy somehow and help her through this. And she sees a discarded violin and remembers that the empress had been drawn to her from across the palace grounds and decides trying to call her this way is worth a shot

Anyway, izzy feels like shes being ripped apart at the seams and shes surrounded by blinding white light And she can hear the GK in her ears, promising power beyond her wildest dreams so she can finally destroy ahri once and for all- but in return izzy herself would cease to exist in all realms. And izzy accepts bc shes desperate to end ahris terror and says that as an Eris her only reason to exist is to protect souls and their realm from danger and if this is what she needs to do to bring about peace then so be it.

And this whole time izzy feels like shes being pulled in one direction but she ignores it. She reaches out a hand toward the GK and feels a warm hand in her own and she feels like shes been struck by lightning (which. She rly has experienced lmao) and when she opens her eyes she can see the tower of flames dissipating and shes holding onto masas outstretched hand, and she can hear in her memories, the song masa had written for her, calling out to her crystal clear. And with masas hand in hers, she feels more powerful than she ever has before, and knows that it isnt bc the GK granted her any power, bc masa had reached her first and the strength of masa and her love would be enough to Kick some Demon Ass