#maybe its your fault. they all died for you. and now you have to kill them yourself

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Love your writing and love Flux!! I was hoping to request a kind of angsty/fluffy fic with the worst!wolverine where the meet her in the void and maybe Logan knew her just not very well and he’s finally letting himself open up and be close with her (likewise with reader/flux towards logan) and they get into an argument or maybe logan has a nightmare and he ends up stabbing her with his claws and maybe the aftermath of him beating himself up and sabotaging the new relationship until reader finally snaps him out of it and says it was an accident and she still loves him?? Thanks!!

mistake

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

a/n: I want to thank you for this request because I've been having the worst writer's block in the world. I was worried about having to go into another unofficial hiatus, but this made something in my brain click together and I knocked it out in two hours. my life is yours 🙏🙏 Summary: You know him. Or, you knew him. And you never blamed him for what happened in your world. It wasn't his fault that everyone you loved died and you barely escaped with your life. But you never actually thought you'd have to see him again. You don't know what to do when all these feelings resurface with his appearance.

No one truly knew who you were back in your universe. After the horrific incident at the mansion, you had run. You’d run as fast and as far as you could from the slaughter of your friends. You’d barely escaped with your life, and from the amount of blood and gore they’d left behind, most people just assumed you were dead. 

It’s not like anyone cared about you. Scott, Ororo, and Jean had been the real heroes. But it didn’t matter because they were still mutants at the end of the day. It didn’t matter how many people they saved. How many lives they positively changed, no one would ever see past the fact that they were mutants. 

Being one of the newer members of the recently disbanded X-Men gave you enough anonymity to get through daily life without being recognized. It did not, however, protect you from being sucked into the shit fest that is the multiverse. 

You’re not sure what it is about you that just attracts bad luck. You don’t know if it’s some hidden power that’s a part of your evolution. You’re just apparently perpetually fucked. The TVA had determined that you were interfering with the proper flow of your timeline or some bullshit. 

Now you’re here. Stuck in the void with nothing but decay and drunk former superheroes. If you have to watch one more Captain America ‘rally the troops’ you’re gonna kill him yourself. You’ve considered switching teams and joining Cassandra Nova at times. If only so you don’t have to deal with Johnny Storm and the rest of the dipshits. 

You get along with Laura, at least. She likes to tell you about her Logan and you like to dodge her questions about yours. She doesn’t need to know that not every version of Wolverine has a golden heart and story worthy of tears. Yours was a fuck up, plain and simple, but you never thought the incident was his fault. 

As much as others tried to push the blame on him. The people who raided the mansion were determined. There was no other way that day was going to end up. You’d just have one less X-Man. But people always love a martyr more than a victim. 

After a couple of years, you get used to the monotony. Your days are only occasionally broken up by dodging Cassandra’s henchmen and trying not to get sucked up into the soul destroyer. Other than that, you spend your nights getting drunk with Gambit and pretending you know whatever the fuck he’s talking about. 

“Laura! I managed to find some chocolate!” You run into the hideout looking for the girl. It’s rare to find good food that isn’t already a month past its expiration date. You weren’t planning on sharing the candy with her but you figured she’d smell it on you and it’s not worth the fight. 

Instead, you stop short as the familiar blue and yellow uniform you’d always try to force on him comes into view. He’s stealing Gambit’s liquor and you know that��s not going to go over well. What you don’t know is why you are so sure that this is your Wolverine. 

You’ve never had a Wolverine in the void. Not once. This could be any one of the hundreds of thousands of variants. But you see that look in his eye. That familiar watery gaze shows just how much he hurts, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 

“Logan?” You breathe his name out in disbelief. Bypassing the Deadpool standing nearby. You’ve dealt with enough of those in your time down here. He takes a step back, fixing you with a distrusting look. 

He keeps the bottle of alcohol clutched close to his chest like he thinks you’re going to take it. You track the movement and you scoff. “Right,” you shake your head and stop short. “Of course, the only thing you care about is still getting fucking drunk.”

He glares at you, taking a step forward like he thinks it might actually intimidate you. “Do I know you, bub?” He reaches forward, probably to jab his finger in your chest. You drop your gaze to his outstretched hand and narrow your eyes. 

The material of his suit fluctuates, pulling back and rippling over his arms like liquid and not spandex. He doesn’t notice the manipulation of matter until it's his skin you target. It melts off his adamantium bones and he stares down in horror. 

You know he's scared because he’s watching his body dissolve but he’s not feeling any pain. You could make it hurt, but that’s not what you want. You just want to see if he’ll remember you now. If there’s anything half-decent left in that alcohol-rotted brain of his.

“Flux,” he grits your X-Man name out through his teeth like it hurts him to say it. 

You nod and his skin and suit go back to normal, like you’d never tampered with it in the first place. “You do remember me, then?”

“Thought you fucking died with the rest of them.” Your face drops before you feel an astonished smile on your face. 

“You know, it’s a comfort to know nothing about my world has changed. You’re still the same spineless dick that left us all to die.” You shake your head and storm out of the hideout. You don’t know how long they’re planning on staying but you pray they leave soon. If you have to deal with him longer than a week, you’ll just kill him. 

You step outside just as Laura’s coming back from the bonfire. She greets you with a stiff smile and you wonder what’s got in her in a mood. It only takes a glance over her shoulder to find the reason.

Logan is sulking by the fire, nursing yet another bottle of whiskey. He’s drinking it like water and even with his healing, his liver should have turned to mush by now. “I can see why you didn’t tell me about him,” she mutters as she passes by you. 

You know she tried to be quiet but you can see the way Logan’s head tilts slightly towards you. He’s heard her and you know it has to sting just a little.

You glance down at the leaves under your feet, eyes glazing over as you feel the guilt sink into your stomach. You shouldn’t feel bad, you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t hurt him, technically, just reminded him who you were. But you still feel bad for what you said. 

You’ve never blamed Logan for what happened. And if you did, you would be a hypocrite. Because you survived too, and you left them all behind. You ran like a coward. You could never blame him when you failed to save them just the same. 

You take in a deep breath and steel yourself. You’ll just apologize, walk over there, and explain to him you didn’t mean what you said. You know he’ll be a dick about it. Claiming he doesn’t want your apology. You’ll just leave him alone after. 

You’re about to step forward when he barks out a gruff command, “Don’t fucking stare at me like that. I don’t want your company.” He turns back to the fire and takes another swig from his bottle. 

You roll your eyes and walk towards him. “You can be as miserable and self-pitying as you want, just let me say one thing.”

His head whips towards you so quickly you’re surprised you don’t hear it snap. “I’m not fucking pitying myself,” he grits out. You quirk your brows in amusement, glancing towards the bottle in his hand and the clear way he’s sulking. He turns his attention back towards the fire, intent on ignoring you again. 

“I don’t blame you for what happened,” you tell him. You ignore the warning look he shoots you, taking a seat beside him even if he doesn’t want you to. “I-” you choke on the words, struggling to admit to yourself what you’ve never wanted to. 

“Don’t.” You know it’s meant to be a warning. But when you look at him and see how completely broken he is, it sounds more like a pathetic plead. 

But you need to say this. As selfish as it is, you need to say this to someone., Need to unload this guilt you’ve carried for so long. “I was there, Logan. I could have saved them and I didn’t. I fucking ran.”

“Kid, don’t do this-”

“Jean was still moving,” you blurt out. You feel the way your heart speeds up at the admission. Your fingers shake and the air around you stills. 

His face drops and he slowly turns towards you. You’re afraid to look at him. You feel like a bunny staring down the snout of a wolf, there’s no escaping this. You’ve created this trap for yourself. 

“What?” He demands. His voice has lost that tremor of vulnerability. Instead, he sounds like he did when he first found out what had happened to you all. That same deadly level of calm that makes you want to bolt again. 

“She,” you stare into the fire until your eyes burn. You don’t know if it’s from the light or the smoke but the pain focuses you. “She was shaking on the floor. There was blood everywhere and she could barely breathe. They had gassed us with something. None of us could use our powers, it’s the only reason they got a one-up on us.”

You can feel yourself slipping back into that moment. You feel the warmth of the blood on your skin. It seeps into your suit and makes the material cling to you. Your gut is split open and the only thing holding your intestines in is your hands. 

Jean is in front of you. Her hands are twitching by her sides. There’s blood pouring out of her lips, dribbling down her tongue and cheeks. Every breath is a rattle so deep you feel it in your bones. 

Each inhale sounds like someone dragging glass through the membrane of her lungs. Her chest rises and sinks shallowly as she gasps for air. She’s practically convulsing, eyes twitching every which way.

The gas has faded from the halls. The people have left, satisfied with the carnage. You’re alone, surrounded only by the blood and bodies of your friends. None of the others are moving. Some of them are so mangled you can’t even tell who they are anymore. 

Jean’s eyes lock onto yours. The only anchor she has. And you can see it, the frantic, wounded animal gaze on her face. She knows she’s dying. She knows there’s nothing she can do about it. 

You can only stand by and watch as your friend dies. You could be her comfort. You could be the last face she sees before she dies, distracting her from the sight of her dead fiancee behind her. 

But what do you do?

You hold your guts in your stomach and you run. You can’t look at her. You can’t look at any of them. You can hear her croaking behind you. And even when you’re out of the mansion, when you’re in a hospital somewhere getting repaired and Logan’s on a rampage, you still hear her. 

You feel something heavy on your arm and it’s like you're being forcibly dragged out of a trance. Logan’s looking at you with something you’ve never seen before. But it’s something you’ve always desperately craved. 

It’s like he’s seeing you, really seeing you. For the first time in a long time, you feel that ache of guilt ease away ever so slightly. It doesn’t disappear, but you’re sharing the burden with someone else and it’s a relief you’ve desperately craved. 

“You’re not a bad person for leaving, kid.” He swallows roughly and you place your hand over his. He doesn’t look completely comfortable with the touch, slightly flinching away from it, but he doesn’t move. “If you hadn’t, you would be dead.”

You squeeze his hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I never blamed you for what happened.” emotion is so thick on your tongue and in your throat that the words come out a whisper. “Their deaths weren’t your fault, and what happened after wasn’t.”

He clenches his eyes shut and jerks his hand out of your grip. You sigh, knowing you’ve lost him. “I slaughtered them.”

You scoff, “They slaughtered us!” You nearly shout, anger bubbling hot in your gut. When you heard about him killing those who had hunted down your friends, you’d celebrated. And when you heard the way the public was crucifying him, you realized that no matter what you did they would never love you. 

You would always be nothing more than a mutant to them. 

“And the people who didn’t hurt them? The innocents I killed?” 

You don’t have anything to say to that. You just stand up, placing a hand on his shoulder as you pass by him. “I never blamed you, Logan.”

You don’t see Logan again after that. At least, not while you’re in the void. What was left of your little resistance was sucked up into the purple cloud of death. Only you and Laura are left with the carnage. 

Logan and Wade have disappeared to who knows where. It stings, to be on your own again. Sure, you have Laura, but she’ll never understand the pain of what happened to your universe. 

As much as it hurt, at least with Logan, you had someone to share the pain with. You could share your burden with him. You feel lonely and cold. Like there’s a part of you missing. You finally figure out what that ache is when the TVA comes to collect you and you see him again. 

He’s standing behind Wade as he enthusiastically tells you and Larua all about his world. But you can’t take your eyes off Logan, or the tentative smile on his face. Whatever had happened during that fight with Cassandra Nova had changed him, for the better. 

You smile back at him and it feels like taking a breath of fresh air after years. 

Apparently, whoever this world’s Flux had been, she was fucking insanely rich. And dead, which sucked for her but was great for you and Logan. 

It’s not hard for you to fake some government identities and explain that you’d been mistakenly marked as dead. It’s apparently pretty common in this universe. Superheroes are blipped out of existence all the time. You couldn’t get all of her assets as some had been liquidated, but you did get her giant ass house. 

You let Logan and Laura stay with you until they decide where they want to go. It’s better than living with Wade and his coke-fiend roommate. Laura finds her groove pretty quickly, it is her world after all. But you and Logan struggle to figure out what to do with yourselves. 

Neither of you has an interest in being X-Men again, and it seems like they’re not incredibly present in this world either. You also hadn’t been the best of friends, even before everything went wrong, back home. 

You’re not strangers, you’re not friends, you’re that awkward place in between. Each day is another opportunity to get to know each other. The progress might be slow, but you know that you’re getting closer to something real. 

It’s why you don’t feel any qualms about running into his room when you hear him shouting. You burst into his room and the door slamming against the wall isn’t even enough to wake him up. 

He’s writhing around in the bed, sheets twisted around his waist while sweat beads down his forehead. The noises he’s making remind you of a wounded animal. There’s something heartbreaking about this. 

He doesn’t get peace even when he’s sleeping. It makes you hurt for him. You want to smooth over the aches and pains he carries and burden yourself with them. 

The thought snaps you out of your reverie and you’re shocked by the revelation. You’d been growing closer to him, but you hadn’t thought you were growing this close. You feel so strongly for him, but you’re not ready to put a name on what it is that you feel for him. You just know that right now you want to make him feel better. 

You approach the bed cautiously, taking a seat beside him. The bed ripples and jolts underneath you as he tosses and turns. You place a gentle hand on his arm and shake, “Logan,” you whisper. You don’t want to startle him too bad. 

But he’s not responding to anything. It doesn’t matter how much you shake him or call out his name. Finally, you can’t handle it anymore. You get on your knees, sitting over him and bringing your palm down across his face as hard as you can. 

In a second he’s shooting up. You don’t even notice his hand until you see the way his vision clears. The visceral panic fades and something is aching in your gut. “Oh god, no no no,” he says the word so many times it stops sounding real. 

You look down and see the blood dribbling down his palm, the claws buried in your stomach. It’s almost funny, how perfectly aligned they are with the scar that already lived there. The reminder of your friend’s death being erased and reformed by Logan’s hand. 

He pulls his wrist back and you quickly snatch it up. “Don’t!” You shout, jaw clenching against the pain. “Don’t pull them out, I’ll just bleed out.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” You know he’s worried, that’s why he snaps at you. But it doesn’t help the way you feel yourself fighting back tears.

He sees them drip down your cheeks and his face drops. His other hand, the one not in you, comes up and cradles your cheek. “What do I do?” He whispers, and he sounds more desperate than you do. 

You know he doesn’t want another death on his hands. But there’s something beyond that. He doesn’t want to be the reason you stop breathing. There’s a startling clarity when you’re slowly dying. 

He cares about you. Just as deeply as you do for him. You can’t make him go through this pain again. Can’t let him suffer alone, not when he’s made so much progress. “Slowly,” you tell him, guiding his claws out inch by inch. 

It’s hard not to black out. You’d barely felt it when he’d gotten you the first time. You think it’s because of how fast and sudden it was. But this, having them oh so slowly slicing through your insides is the worst form of torture. 

But you don’t heal like him. You have to close your eyes, focus on the pain, and forcibly reknit your skin back together. It’s a clever manipulation of your powers, but it’s a slow one. You could never take serious damage on the field because you wouldn’t be fast enough to repair yourself. 

This is easy to repair. But that doesn’t make it hurt less. It feels like an hour before he can safely draw them the rest of the way out. The second he does, you’re sinking into his arms with a pained sob. 

He clutches you so tightly to his chest you worry your back might snap. He keeps muttering apologies into your hair, hands desperately grasping at every inch of you he can hold. You’re too tired to say anything. 

You realized you should have. You should have told him you don’t blame him. You were the one who snuck into his room. You should have been smarter. But it doesn’t matter how many times you tell Logan not to blame himself, he always will. And you were too tired to try anyway. 

You only realize what’s happening two days after the incident. You figured he might need some space to process what happened. And honestly, you did too. It was awful and incredibly draining. You’ve felt fatigued ever since. 

But when you try and approach him and he just brushes past you like you weren’t even there, you know something is wrong. You watch his retreating back with a disturbed glare. You connect the dots quickly, already knowing what he’s doing. 

He doesn’t want to be responsible for hurting another person he loves. He can’t handle a loss like that again, even if it’s not by his hands. He wants to make sure you don’t want him, that you don’t care for him. Like that might ease the pain and guilt. 

But it wouldn’t. It would just make him feel worse. It would make you feel worse. 

You don’t waste a second, following him up the stairs and barging into his room before he can slam the door shut. It bounces off the wall and he lets out a deeply irritated sigh. He doesn’t turn to look at you, just walks over to his nightstand and rummages around through the doors.

You know he’s not looking for anything. He’s just trying to ignore you long enough for you to give up. It’s not going to happen, he should know better. 

You take a step further into the room and the smell of chemicals slams into you. Your nose wrinkles in disgust. It smells like he pumped Lysol into the vents. Your eyes dart to the bed and you sigh. 

Your blood, you’d completely forgotten. He must have been cleaning it up the morning after. You can’t blame him for wanting to get rid of the remainder. But this seems excessive. 

“Strong nose,” he mutters. You hadn’t realized you’d spoken aloud and you glanced over at him. “I can still smell it, even after cleaning.” He takes a seat on the bed and you hate the way his shoulders are slumped. 

He’d seemed so much more comfortable with himself lately. It’s like one accident has undone all his progress. “Logan,” you start, taking a step towards him. He holds his hand up, still not looking at you. 

It’s driving you insane. You wish he would just meet your eyes. You feel like you could change his mind if he would just see you. Maybe that’s why he won’t. He won’t let himself be happy. 

“Look, that night just made me realize what a huge fucking mistake this was.” He gets up and slides something out from under the bed. It takes a moment for you to register what it is. A duffel bag, packed with all his essentials and what little clothes he owns. 

He’s going to leave.

You act without thinking. Pure panic making your powers surge out. Logan grunts and the bag falls out of his hand. “Quit it,” he snipes, bending over to pick it up. But he can’t because it’s so heavy it’s making the wooden floor splinter and crack under its weight. 

“You don’t get to just leave when things get hard, Logan.”

He stands up, hands propped on his sides. There’s a challenge in his eyes that makes you nervous. “Fuck this,” he scoffs and brushes past you. 

It’s beyond manipulative to use your powers against him. But sometimes, someone is such a fucking idiot, they need a little outside help. You slam the door closed and the handle disappears, locking you both in his room. 

He turns towards you with a fierce glare on his face. “Open the goddamn door before I break it down.”

“You can try,” you taunt, a nasty tone to your voice. You’re sick of this. You’re sick of running from what you want. You’ve been miserable and alone for years. You want to be happy. For the first time in forever, you want something. 

And you want Logan to be happy with you. You can’t force him to feel the way you do. But you can stop him from actively preventing this. “Stop acting like a goddamn child and just talk to me!” You shout at him. 

There’s a disbelieving look on your face. You don’t understand why he won’t let this happen. Why does he have to fight so hard against any semblance of happiness in his life?

“I’m going to hurt you. That is all I do. I hurt the people I love and I cannot hurt you too.” Your eyes widen in shock at his outburst. Beyond anger, there was so much fear in his voice it was almost enough to make you miss what he’d said. 

“You love me?” You can see the realization dawn on him. The fact that he let slip why he’s so hesitant to be around you. You know he wants to leave, his eyes are darting around the room for an escape route, but you’ve blocked them all. You can’t let this go, not now. 

“Logan,” you snap, demanding an answer from him. 

“Fuck you,” he mutters, something vicious on his face. 

He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to lash out and say something cruel so that this doesn’t happen. You know him because you’ve been him. He will take every possible route to get out of this if it means he doesn’t have to face his feelings. 

You roll your eyes and take a step forward. You jerk him towards you and throw yourself on him before he can say something stupid. The kiss is brief, just enough to snap him out of this ridiculous headspace he’s in. 

When you pull back he looks dazed, but he’s relaxed in your hold, sinking towards you. You grin up at him, “I love you too, dumbass.” You lean up to kiss him again but you dart back at the last second, a mean glare on your face. “Pull some shit like this again and I’m going to melt your dick off.” 

You kiss him before he can respond, but you feel the smile against your lips. You can taste the defeat on his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and tugs you into his chest. He’s not going to push you away and you’re not going to let him. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl @allllium  ♡ 

[snowsinterlude]

overprotective, lovesick, deranged.

(yandere coriolanus x reader)

summary: your ex boyfriend couldn't seem to let you go.

if i can't have you, no one can.

trigger.warning: yandere coriolanus, obslove (obsessive love), stockholm syndrome, drugging (no its not for sexual purposes), pregnancy, marriage, horror, depictions to murder (explicit), dubcon, p in v, cockwarming, extremely toxic behavior, unhinged coriolanus, this fanfic contains extreme toxic behavior and too much blood, if uncomfortable with that content, please, don't read it.

"This might get a little messy, I'm sure.

Heads rolling for the one I adore

This may become a little brutal if I'm honest

But it's any-anything for you my dear, I promise"

overprotective.

coriolanus snow was a man of ambition; one of those who won't quiet down until the moment he had what he wanted. this was something that happened to the women he got involved with too.

lucy gray baird was one of those. the moment your now ex-boyfriend was sent to district 12 you could tell something was wrong. you could not care less, though. he wasn't your boyfriend anymore and in your most honest opinion it was something good.

when he came back you were with a different man; one named valentine, who stayed with you when you saw coriolanus kissing lucy gray. who comforted you during this time and who hugged you everynight when the thunders during rain times echoed so hard that made you feel like being killed by one of those.

valentine, who's head was decapitated in front of you.

coriolanus, who was smiling to you as he opened the 'gift' he had prepared to you.

you, who couldn't help but throw up at the sight of your dead boyfriend. you, who passed out by the sick sight of his decapitated head, his eyes opened by strings of a red line, needled carelessly. the same eyes who used to look at you with so much affection and love, now weren't looking at you at all.

when you woke up, your hands were tightly wrapped up in a tight knot that he learned to do as a peacekeeper. strung up reasons.

"good morning, my love." he smiled, kissing your forehead. you were still in the kitchen, dressed in a white dress, you didn't remember putting it on. you didn't like the fabric nor the color of white- it would always get stained too easily. "you finally woke up."

you didn't had to think much to know that what happened wasn't a dream. it was real. he killed your boyfriend.

you opened your mouth, and the scream you left was enough for him to slap you across the face. once you begun to cry, he kneeled in front of you, hands cupping your face as you shaked.

"it's okay baby, snow's here for you,"" he kissed your face, making you melt into crying as hard as you could, sob after sob making your doll heart heavy. "remember you used to call me snowflake?" he asked, and you nodded cowardly, afraid of saying anything that might make him furious. "i'm still your snowflake."

and he hugged you, caressing your scalp as you ugly cried in front of him, but to him, you would never look ugly.

lovesick.

with your face pressed against the mattress, you stared at the gigantic mirror that covered an entire wall, watching yourself.

it's been three months since valentine died, and two months since snow untied you, carried you like a princess bride and bathed you, always murmuring the waltz that played when you both met.

maybe it wasn't so bad after all. he took extra care of you, never slapped you again- it was a relapse. he took care of the red slap mark in your cheek, apploed ointment on you everyday, prepared your favorite meals and left you to your own peace, let you mourn the death of that pathetic boy you decided to date.

it wasn't his fault, right? no- it was. why the hell were you thinking that the victim was the one to put to blame for their own death? are you dumb?

well, you aren't- but you're starting to become.

why were you smiling at him as he showed you the dress he brought you? why did your heart flutter when he made you desserts? c'mon now, he killed your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend?

he wasn't there to protect you now, was he? why would he be important in anyway? of course, he was the sweetest to you, never questioned when you moaned coryo's name instead of his, he knew how hard it was to you.

for fucks sakes, what were you doing? what were you thinking?

coriolanus entered the room he made to you after three knocks, a tray with golden white details on his hand, with two toasts, less than a dozen pancakes that he knew you liked, a cup of strawberry juice and a small bow of green grapes.

once you ate at least half of it and drink the juice, he was by your side, caressing your hair.

"bunny?" he called, taking you off your own state of blankness.

"yes?"

"do you hate me?" you wanted to say yes. wanted to spit on his face for asking such a dumb question after holding you hostage and killing your boyfriend, you truly wanted to.

but you didn’t. "no," and maybe you didn't hated him at all. maybe that juice with the truth-telling pill didn't had much of an effect on you

"hm." he hummed, lips curling into the pretty smile he had. "it's good to know that."

he put the tray aside, laying by your side. why have you been laying like a sick woman at it's death bed? ah. yeah, he didn’t liked the idea of you going away, he said he didn’t want you to leave him. how cute.

you smiled at the thought. then you had to gather all the senses you had left to scold yourself.

it didn't last long though, the moment his hands found your hips and started grinding on you, you felt aroused. you shouldn't be, this was the man that killed your boyfriend. this was the man who slapped you. this was the man who didn't let you go around the house with the excuse that he didn’t want you to leave him.

but of course, your cunt didn't had the same thought that you did. so, by the amount of teasing and the way his soft, slender fingers found your clit almost immediatly, you couldn't help but moan and grind back, feeling as if you were humiliating yourself.

"s-stop that, coryo. please." you said. "i'm still mourning valentine's death-"

"i'm sorry, dove, but your pussy doesn't seem to agree with that." and he rolled your nightgown up, pulled his pants down and finally his dick was grinding against your wetness, the tip teasing your clit as he didn’t went inside, why he wasn't going inside? you needed him in.

your breath hitched at the thought, your hand gripping the sheets as he slowly thrusted, but never inside of you.

"tell me, dove, do you want it in?" he asked, his index finger teasing your clit.

"n..no, i-i don't-" he chuckled at your own lies, you felt like laughing too, the exact moment he kissed your shoulder you had to close your own lips, aware that you would end up smiling at him.

"i don't think you don't want it. tell me, baby, what do you want exactly?"

your breath hitched, you could feel how harder your nipples were compared to before. you shouldn't be wanting this. and you knew that. but you loved him so much.

"y-you. please, i'm sorry, coryo." what were you sorry about? you didn't do anything wrong other than mourn and cry.

"you're forgiven, baby. now, just let me enter you, okay?" you nodded. you were pathetic, that nod was pathetic, looking at you in the mirror was pathetic, seeing how you surrendered so easily to his touch was pathetic- the fact that you were ovulating was pathetic. the fact he knew you were fertile was psychotic, and mostly pathetic cause it was you who let him know about it when you were both dating.

you slurred a long and low moan out of your mouth, your eyes closed shut the second your walls were slowly stretched by his dick, it wasn't as painful as the first time, but you felt like being ripped apart.

dubiously, you let his dick kiss your uterus like never before. you felt so ridiculous when his dick went further into you, when your warm walls squeezed his dick into you, when your pussy felt like gushing and you cockwarmed him with pleasure, and you fucked him back, moving your hips almost like you didn't want him to see you moving.

"you would look so good pregnant, don't you think, baby?" he asked, his hand going upwards and abandoning your clit to pass on your belly. "you'd be so pretty. more than you are already"

you shook your head, panic taking over you.

"p-please, coryo. don't do it, not inside, please. not inside" of course, he didn’t even cared about your mewls, thrusting harder into you, earning a bunch of moans out of your mouth, your voice echoing as he spread your legs and made you look into the mirror to see the mess you were.

your boobs bouncing out of your nightdress, your pussy beautifully welcoming his dick inside your cunt, his balls slapping against your clit due to the pose, and the more you concentreated on the pleasure, you were closer to cumming.

"yeah, keep squeezing me like that, dove" he said into your year, sucking on your neck. you moaned as an answer "i'm gonna fuck my baby's into you."

you squeezed him too tightly, your pussy gushing around him before finally cumming. too good, too good. were all that you could think of.

"such a pretty girl, baby. you will be such a good mom." he said, finally cumming inside of you, the hot seed flowing inside you and leaking a bit.

you turned to see his face, recieving a kiss that you promptly deepened.

you were doomed.

deranged.

his grandma'am was the one to acompany you to the altar. the entire panem was there or outside waiting to see the marriage of the new president snow.

you smiled at him under the veil, your swollen round belly being the one that claimed attention more than anything. you were in fact a beautiful mom, carrying his twin girls in your heart and stomach.

you still loved him after all, who would know?

not even him expected you to say yes, not in the marriage, not at the proposal, and not at any other situation, specially when he was impregnating you.

"do you, mr. snow, accept mrs. y/n as your wife?" the priest asked, a sweet smile on his elderly lips.

"i do."

"and you, mrs. y/n, accept mr. snow as your husband?" he asked to you, and you smiled, cherry lipstick covering your lips.

"i do."

you caved your own grave, and you knew it. but if you died, you would take him with you.

that's what love is about.

[youryanderedaddy]

Oleander

Summary: Nine months ago you killed a man. Now you're sharing a drink with his brother. Life works in mysterious ways. tw: female reader, implied murder, captivity, dub - con, hate fucking, degradation, cruel reader

Sometimes you wonder if you’re a good person. It’s nice, almost, to lose yourself in meaningless philosophical battles in your own mind - it reminds you of high school, of balding teachers making you read Kant and Plato, raving on and on about dead men that will never come back to agree or disagree with the countless pages they made you write about them. It’s easier now, though - easy to lose yourself in semantics, to water down hundred years of morals and ethics into a simple question. Am I, the way I am, the way I’ve always been, good? 

These thoughts always come back when the liquor hits your system. You can’t believe Devan let you drink with him tonight. He must be getting lonely, you realize. Your hands are too shaky and slippery to hold the glass, and you end up spilling half of it over your chest anyways. Your shirt soaks the liquor quickly, and the sharp smell of sanitizer makes you feel as if you’re running through a cold hospital corridor. If you squint, you can almost imagine the needle poking at your vein to draw fresh blood. 

Devan watches you with odd fascination - as if you’re a child learning how to walk, and takes a sip straight off the bottle. Were you any less drunk, you’d be disgusted, yet now all you think about is how he’s drinking more and more of the bitter medicine, leaving less for you. And you need it. God knows you need it.

“Messy, murderous slut.” He mumbles under his breath, reaching out to you with a disoriented shake of his hand. “You ruined my fucking life, you know?” He manages to take a hold of your elbow. You flinch impulsively but his hold, in all its drunken angst, is unrelenting.

“You ruined your own life.” You intend your answer to be playful, but it comes out venomous. Maybe you both need some sleep - too bad the bottle is still half full. You pour yourself some more. “You’re 27 with no education, job or any support network. Even your parents don’t call you anymore, because, well… what even are you without him?” You let yourself get closer to the man - so close you can see his eyes illuminate in fear. His skin is warm like concrete melting under the sun. Tonight you are cruel. Tonight you are free - even as the tears fall down your freezing cheeks. “Admit it.” You inhale so quietly you barely feel your lungs. “You fucking love it.”

Even as his hand connects to your cheek in an audible slap, you can’t help running your mouth off. You are absolutely intoxicated - and the sting feels like a kiss to your lonely, untouched face. How long has it been since someone held you?

“You fucking love that your brother died, deep down. I mean, it’s the perfect excuse, isn’t it? You finally have a reason to be this fucking miserable.” Your smirk, filling up with glee - just like a child torturing a helpless ladybug on the ground, it’s so wrong yet feels so right. ”Besides being a lousy loser, of course.”

“How fucking dare you!” Devin flips you over with ease, throwing you on the ground. There is a raw, animalistic sadness in his big black orbs bleeding into his rage, and it makes it impossible to be scared. Even as his thick fist wraps itself around your throat, it’s hard not to burst into laughter. All the good hazy feelings take over logic and now the bleak feels like a big joke of nature. “Joe was… He… He was…” Everything, he tries to say, but his voice breaks into a pained howl and his breathing shallows before the word can roll off his colorless tongue. For a passing moment everything stills.

“It’s all your fault.” Your captor hisses weakly, his hand trembling around your warm inviting flesh. “I should have killed you that first day… that first night.” His fingers dance around your throat, carefully avoiding your jugular. “It would have been so easy. You do have a beautiful neck.” His voice lowers. “It wouldn’t be hard to–” He squeezes again - tight, tighter, and you see stars. “Maybe then I’ll finally be at peace.” He’s staring at you, intently, but it’s himself he’s talking to. 

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. You can feel a certain fullness in your sides and a dull pain tugging at your collarbone from suffocation - but your mind can’t wrap itself around a single coherent thought other than to hurt him. It’s like the more you hurt him, the more it hurts inside you. “You can’t kill me.” There is no sass in your tone, no mischief - just plain cold acceptance.

Devin stops in his tracks to stare you down as if you’ve lost your goddamn mind. Then he laughs. He laughs so much his hand slips off your throat and you can finally breathe again.

“And what makes you so sure?” He finally collects himself enough to ask, leaning towards you. If anyone were to see you now, they would think you’re two lovers about to elope. “Because…” You avert your face away from his watchful eyes - there’s something about them, a wild flame that makes you sober up quicker than you’d like. “I’m the only person you hate more than yourself. If you kill me, the game is over.” You give him a sad smile. “And you’re all alone again.”

The man grabs your chin, forcing your lips to pucker up like a doll’s. “Like I need a fucked up bitch to keep me company.” He says, yet he keeps moving your head up and down as if he’s inspecting you for damage. As if he cares if you’re bruised, as if his fingers want to feel you for just a second longer. “Then let me go.” You bite back, and you watch his face go dark like a night sky. “No.” The boy - man shrieks, holding onto your arm for dear life. It hurts… but it’s also warm and tight - like an embrace, but not quite. “You deserve to suffer.” He quickly adds, pulling you closer to him. “Then torture me.” You add more fuel. “Do something. Anything.” You sink your teeth into his knees. “For once in your shitty miserable life do so–”

He kisses you. 

You don’t know how to describe the kiss. It’s neither passionate, nor aggressive. It’s desperate, yet it lacks strength. It’s a rushed thing. It’s a memory reminiscent of summer - in a quiet village, after an atom bomb. His lips are the flowers that eventually bloom before they’re stomped by soldier boots. You’re the half - lit match that turns it all to ashes. Your bodies are meant for destruction, and that’s why they fit together perfectly. 

“Let me have you.” He almost pleads once you separate, breathless, on the brink of insanity - as if he isn’t already there. His hands are on both sides of your waist, squeezing so hard it hurts, unstable fingers ready to grab and grope at any shape malleable enough. 

“No.” You wince, but your eyes remain cold and challenging. “Fuck you.” Devin replies, roughly spreading your thighs apart. “Fuck you.” He repeats as he rips into your throat, dragging his teeth against your sweet spot, making you really feel the sharp points tearing into your soft vulnerable skin. The thought of leaving his mark on you makes his stomach turn - and it terrifies him. You try not to look down, but you hear his belt hit the ground and soon his pants follow suit - and then you sense it right against your entrance. Sticky slick whiteness coats your white panties as it drips from the purpling tip so full it might burst by the friction alone.

His hard length rubs along your wet slit and with clenched teeth you anticipate the burn of the stretch, the way he’ll rip your underwear from you, your last protective shield - but it never comes. Yet you see it move in and out, in and out of you rhythmically. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, his rasp groans into your ear, his hands moving your torso back and forth like a carousel. You finally look down. 

He’s fucking your thighs - through your panties, no less. 

“Hold your legs together.” The man barks at you, but his voice is so needy you can’t help giggling even as he manhandles you around like a ragdoll. “T-tighter.” You squeeze your thighs snuggly against his cock - and you hope it hurts him more than it hurts you. You throw your head back, leaning on his shoulder as you jeer gutturally, letting it all out in systematic bursts of laughter that sound more like black cigarette coughs. Or puffs. “God, you’re so pathetic.” You lazily stroke his shaft as it peeks down your stomach, oozing with pre - cum. “I bet your brother would have fucked me like a real man.”

He moves your head to the side with a brute slap, kissing you sloppily anywhere but your mouth - but it still does the trick of shutting you up. “Too bad he’s dead.” He leaves a trail of wet pecks down your throat. Your stomach is sticky. You feel disgusting. “Guess you’re mine now.”

You roll your eyes.

“Dream on.”

[cadencelistic]

erm perhaps mouthwashing characters + younger sibling!reader??maybe angst like dying in their arms perchance,,thx!!!

You're getting somewhere......

Not proofread, obviously.

Curly was so happy when you came on the Tulpar, whether you're an intern or a new worker, he's suppopeperrr duppoerrr happy about it. He's kinda protective, he'll monitor you a lil more than the other crew members. They're all his responsibility though, so he won't go overboard. He needs to make sure the others are alright as well, ykkk??? Since i see no other way of you dying before he gets crashed, let's sayyyy...... The ship does crash like ingame, but you followed him like the STUPID LITTLE SHIT EVER. You're right outside the cockpit, and just before they hit the meteorite, Curly sees yo ass and tries to get you away, but fucks up and throws you into the fire. He pretty much goes fucking insane and tries to save you and gets himself burnt a little. Now you're a quarter bit more of a corpse and he's fucking bawling. You won't die yet, but you'll be soosososooooo happy when you do.

I don't think Jimmy is that happy that you're working together. Nah, he probably fuckin hates it. Now, people always assume that siblings will fight no matter what, that's a bit of an advantage for him he can say whatever shit he wants, and people will just be like "Oh, that's just how siblings are". A lot more meaner to you than he is to everybody else and sometimes forcibly shows you how to do your job right. He's probably the one killing you, and he'll barely feel any remorse. If not him, he still won't really care that much, “I told you so" that's him. If he cared...... It'd only be because he doesn't want to damage his reputation......

It's hard for me to think of Swansea having a younger sibling. I guess his parents fucked again when he was like 20-40 whatever you want and have a child that is raised better than he was. He'll still treat you like Daisuke, but you're family, so he's nicer. Holds nothing against you despite being the child that y'alls parents tried harder and better on. Acts like he has something to teach you, and does kind of teach you. I imagine that your parents didn't really like when you were with him during his drunk years, so you never really had time to spend together. If you died, he lowk wouldn't show how it affects him, but he becomes more irritable. Lashing out at people. Thinks it's his fault for you dying because he couldn't be a better brother. Thinks y'alls parents would fucking hate him for letting you die, might as well kill himself/hj.

Now, Daisuke. He's ecstatic!!! His little sibling with him? (You're in an intern here, idgaf) He's so happy that mom didn't send him alone. At least there's someone there that understands him. You and Daisuke are basically the children the others babysit. When you die, he just kind like.... Ykykykyk breaks down. Fuckung sobs himself on you, and he's scared that y'alls parents will get mad and hate him for not protecting you and he also thinks its his fault. Now he feels like the loneliest person ever, and he'll just be in a constant grieving state. All that standard stuff until he dies. Letss says that Jimmy was the one that killleed you. Daisuke would stay far away from him, and be all awkward whene he tries to talk with him

I feel like the person who'd take it the hardest is Anya, it just feels right to say that. You die a slow death, not slow and painful like Curly, but still dying slowly in pain. She'll try to treat you, but struggle lots because she just can't bear the sight of you in pain. Ultimately, she'll feel guilty when you die and blame herself for not being able to take care of you like a proper nurse should. This is really short and i hate that.

[shadow0214]

I've been reading some fanfics with Noa and I love them, so I thought I'd give it a go. It's my first time writing so...don't judge me to hard.

Noa × human OC

Belonging

Always the same thing around the 'bunker', no one told you the things that were happening, you hated that. You felt like they still treated you like a little child even though you were in your twenties already.

"Yes, didn't you know? We're going on an excursion." Samantha said to me while I was drying the dishes after dinner.

"Of course, I didn't, nobody tells me anything around here. It's annoying" You muttered

You were the best tracker they had, you loved being outside, learning the ways of nature, and still nobody ever took you into account when expeditions like this happened.

"Hey, that's enough Sam." A voice said entering the kitchen. "Don't listen to her, she's just trying to get on your nerves"

You looked back and smiled at the comment. Lila always knew how to calm things down.

"Why don't you speak with Anna? Maybe she'll let you go this time." Lila said

"Yes, like every other time I asked her" You scoffed and shook your head.

"C'mon, I'll go with you." Lila pushed

"I don't even own a horse yet." You said

"Well...that's your own fault, Envy could've been yours, you just gave her away to Kiara". Lila reminded you.

Kiara, the daughter of a couple that was part of the council, the leaders of your group. She was like a little sister to you ever since you met her. You had no family, your dad died on an expedition, most say apes killed him, and your mother died soon after she gave birth to you. Medicine was scarce and trying to make it from scratch was hard, not impossible since you had a lab in the facility but still, sometimes the main components were just to available.

Most expeditions could last for months, trying to find more humans, more medicine, or even mark places where apes had their homes so no one would go near. You had the firearms, but not the manpower to fight them alone.

You never understood the hate your kind had towards the apes, yes, they were now more and had claimed a lot of the land humans once ruled, but they had also healed the land. No humans meant trees and animals were free to repossess what was once theirs, and apes were not using human machines that harm the earth, so everything had regained its balance in a way. Since you were little, you went out of the bunker with a horse, you learned how to fish, how to hunt, how to track and look for things outside, you never understood why you felt more connected to nature than to your own people. 'They never understood' you'd think. ‘They will never see the world as I see it'.

Anyway, all of that wasn't going to change, so you had to take what was given to you and make the most out of it. Lila and you went to Ana, she was distracted with the preparations for the expedition. This time, from what Lila had told you, they were going to look for more survivors and other bunkers to see if those had more medicine.

"Ana, mind if we talk to you for a moment?" Lila asked

"What? Yeah, sure. What's up?" Ana said absent-mindedly while she tripled checked the supplies. It looked like they were going for some months at least.

Lila looked at you and pushed you softly, and nodded at you when you looked back. You took a deep breath and spoke.

"So...Ana, I heard about the expedition and I wanted to know why you hadn’t called for me? You know I'm one of the best people to take in things like that. I can survive pretty well on my own while I'm outside."

Ana sighed and stopped what she was doing.

"Y/N, you know the reason, I need you here, protecting everyone else" She said while putting her hands on your shoulders

"No one ever comes close to this place since we put the electric fence around! Let me go!"

"Y/N" Lila spat at me. "Careful with your words!"

I just stared at her with anger.

"You have absolutely no good reason to not let me go. Please, I can really help if something goes wrong!"

Ana didn't have a comeback for that, she knew what you were saying was right, she knew how helpfull you could be, and still the promise she had made to your mother drilled into her head could not allow you to go with them. You were already in your twenties, now there was no good excuse to tell you to stay and Ana knew this. She sighed again and with a very sad tone agreed to your request. You were going with them, and that was that.

----------‐-----------------

-The next morning-

Ana and Aaron, parents of Kiara, were the ones in charge of this expedition. Samantha, Lila, Carlos, Seth (Samantha's uncle), and you were the rest of the group.

You went to get your stuff ready on Envy, the mare that was meant to be yours, but for some reason you had decided to give her to Kiara, still, she thought of Envy as a shared horse more than her own. Kiar knew how much you loved her, and she didn't mind giving her to you in times like this.

"Take care of each other, ride safely." Kiara said with a smile on her face while petting the side of the mare.

"We will, sis, we'll be back before you know it. Anything special you want me to look for?"

Kiara shook her head. " I just need you to come back to me, that's it."

"Aaww dear, of course I will." You said hugging little Kiara.

You loved her, she was the only one that understood you and never judged you. One day you were going to take her exploring with you, so you could show her everything you loved.

Two weeks passed. Everyone was a little on edge since the news of contact had gotten to you. Apparently, a week ago the satellites started working again and your walkie-talkies that you carried mostly just to feel like you were connected somehow started working again. The people on the bunker told Ana and Aaron that a girl, similar age to you and Lila, had found the missing piece to get satellite connection back on. We knew about the bunker on the east but we had little contact with them and the nomads that were looking for ways to communicate with each other had been murder by a big group of apes, but apparently one of the girls of the nomad group had survived and, with the help of some apes, was able to get to where the main computers where locked and retrieve de disc.

This news had everyone in our group freaked out, it had been a long time since we had been able to communicate over long distances. Some were happy about it, they were thinking that this way we were going to able to rebuilt what was ours, but others were weary of what other humans wanted. 'Humans are selfish and will do anything to get power' Others thought.

Our group tried to maintain calm during all this, we still had to find supplies and medicine that was not going to arrive even if we had connection with other humans. More people meant more food, more space needed and more medicine that we did not have to spare.

At night everyone was silently eating what you had hunted for the day. You were pretty good at using different weapons, but your favorite was the bow and arrow, you almost never missed unless you wanted to. The others had guns, and some knives with them, but most of them knew that using guns out hear meant that everything in a 1km radius or more could hear and pinpoint our location.

"We could've been eating earlier if we had used my gun, I never miss" Samantha spoke showing a cocky grin to you.

You just rolled your eyes at her.

"If we had done your way, every single ape around here would've come looking for us." Seth said calmingly.

Samantha hated it when he agreed with your methods, and you knew it; in a way, it made you proud when he did. He would always be om Samantha's side and agree with her, he never liked agreeing with you, but sometimes he just had to.

"You should be thanking Y/N for her quick thinking. Otherwise, we would've had to eat the dried-up food we brought, and I don't think anybody wanted more of that" Ana said laughing at the end. The rest of the group followed making faces of disgust and laughing at the comment of our leader.

"How long until we get to the big buildings?" Lila asked when everyone had calmed down

"Sadly, I think we'll have to go back. Ana and I have been thinking about it and it's better to be with everyone else at the moment." Aaron answered

"Uncertain times call for unity." Ana added

Seth nodded and kept eating.

You were thinking. The group needed medicine, and other things...maybe a tiny group could keep pushing forward while the adults went back.

"And what if some of us stayed? You said it yourself Aaron, we are a week away from the buildings and we need everything we can find over there. A small group will not be noticed as easily as all of us" you said.

You had a point, and they knew it. After some discussion, the leaders agreed, Lila and you could keep going, the rest was to go back with them. Samantha was going to disagree, but she knew better than to stay with you two. Lila and you were inseparable, and Samantha would only be outnumbered in any decision you made.

The next morning everyone gave you half of their rations for food since you two were going to need them more than them, and then they set off for the bunker.

Lila and you waved at them, and then kept going.

For some time, it was quiet between you two, but Lila was not going to let that be.

"Sooo, wanna race?" Lila said with a sparkle in her eyes.

You knew what that meant. The idea was in her mind, now you could only accept the challenge.

"I mean...It's kind of unfair. Char is not meant for sprinting" you said with a grin.

"And Envy is?" Lila replied

"Oh, I know she's faster that Char." You said, knowing full well that she was fast in short distances and Lila was thinking more of a long-distance race.

"Well, then start! See you at the end!" Lila said kicking softly the side of her mare that sprinted away.

"Hey no fair!" You yelled doing the same with Envy.

You passed trees and creeks so fast you felt like you were going to fall off the horse. Impressively you were just behind Lila and Char, who was galloping with all her might.

You were so enthralled by how fast Char was going that you barely missed a branch that could've hit you down.

Eventually Lila made Char stop. You kept going, but Lila screamed at you to stop.

"What? I thought we were going to end?" You said out of breath riding back to where they were.

"Look up" She said, almost like a whisper.

You did and saw tall buildings in front of you all covered in vines and trees. The trees had broken some of the sediments of the building but were also holding them up. Most of them were broken, and some had collapsed, probably by the sheer size of them.

"Wow, they are amazing" Lila said.

There were rows of them, all conquered back by nature itself. It was beautiful to see how two completely opposite things could come together to create art. All green and grey together forming structures that you had never seen before.

You were both still gawking at the immensity of the buildings when you heard a noise up in the sky. Eagles, huge and magnificent eagles. You had seen some flying around on your own little excursions, but now they were closer than ever.

"Should we follow them?" Lila whispered, this was unknown territory to her, this was more your area of interest.

"Mmm maybe for a while just to see where they take us." You said firmly. " We can also walk and get in some of these buildings to see if we find something" You added.

Lila nodded and dismounted Char, you followed suit. Both of you took the reins of each mare and pulled gently so they kept up with the pace you set.

Three days you walked and searched for supplies with no luck. You tried entering every building you could, but some of them where to destroy to even walk on the floor. Others had entrances that were too high for either of you to climb, and if you did climb the hard part later was going down.

"Thank goodness you came prepared, Y/N." Lila said, struggling while climbing down a rope.

"Don't mention it, just keep going we're almost at the bottom" You said short of breath. You were no stranger to climbing but doing it almost every day for 3 days was taking its toll on you.

Lila let go of the rope and landed on the ground huffing.

"We can't keep doing this, Y/N. It's too tiring. We aren't apes to be climbing around without a care in the world!"

"I know I know, but we've found some good stuff nonetheless" You said as you stretched out after jumping off the rope, you went back and pulled the rope 2 times so it could fall off the makeshift hook you had made to tie it up.

"Some expired painkillers and a bunch of gardening tools is NOT good stuff!"

Lila sighed, even though you’d a nice time sharing this little adventure together you were starting to feel hopeless. Maybe it was time to go back, maybe the others had gotten supplies from the other camp, and you were doing nothing out here but waste time.

"Lila…you can go you know?" You said softly cleaning some arrows that you had used to hunt rabbits earlier.

"What? And leave you here?? Are you insane?!"

"No… I just feel like my time here is not over yet. Yours though…"

"Nu uh, I'm not leaving you alone, we don't even know where exactly we are."

"It's my decision Lila"

"Bullshit! I know you love nature and such, but everyone is waiting for us!"

"Everyone?" You said lowering your head.

Lila didn't answer, she knew that most of the people treated you like an outsider. No one ever told her why, the only reason she could think of wad that you had no family left alive, but that was a cruel way of treating your own kind.

"Fine, I'll take what we found back. What do you expect me to say to the rest when you don't arrive with me huh?" Lila asked

"You tell them half the truth, that I simply didn't want to come back"

"That's the 'half-truth' to you?"

"Ok ok," you said rolling your eyes. " Tell them you begged me to go back, and I said I would keep looking for stuff for a couple more days, then you never met again with me"

"Mmm, alright. So, you got killed?"

"What?! No! Idiot" You said pushing her playfully. Lila just chuckled.

"I'm gonna miss you (Y/nickname)." Lila sniffled while hugging you.

You hugged her back with some tears in your eyes.

"I'll be back before you know it, I promise"

Lila waved goodbye to you while riding Char out of the jungle of buildings, you waved back until you couldn't see her anymore.

After that you kept searching for anything really for a couple of days, until one day the promises you had made to Lila and Kiara were going to be broken.

–----------------------------------------

One day while you were scavenging around in a building you heard noises, noises you hadn't heard before. You took Envy and hid her next to some bushes at the side of a building and tried to keep her relaxed.

As the noise came closer it became clearer: apes.

You never really had contact with them since you were always cradled inside the bunker. The only experience you had was the stories people would tell you, but once you started growing up you stopped believing everything the adults told you.

You were a little apprehensive about the situation at hand but as long as Envy obeyed you, you were sure the apes would pass as quickly as they came.

"You only try to show off when climbing, the other things you just avoid!" A female voice said

"Not true! Anaya never avoids challenges, right Noa?" A male voiced reply

'Anaya and Noa' you made a mental note of the names, not sure why. You heard them walking away so you went out of your hiding place little by little, looking around you just in case you needed to hide from them.

From where you were you could see 3 apes; one had an armband different than the other two. You felt bad spying on them, but your curiosity got the best of you. You kept listening in the conversation, but you also noticed they would sign sometimes and that got lost in translation. The only signs you knew were tactical warfare signs that Aaron had thaught you when you were learning about weapons with Lila and Samantha.

"Soona is right, Anaya always showing off then running away when something goes wrong" The third one spoke, another male. After that the three started making a noise that you could only compare to laugh.

"I'll show you, climb to top to see sunset. First one wins!" The other male said running in all fours and starting to climb the building in front of you with ease.

"Anaya wait!" The female voice shouted but followed right behind him.

The other male chuckled and followed his friends up the building.

You were mesmerized by how athletic and big they were, but something inside you also wanted to follow them so you could see at least one sunset. The past days you've had missed all of them because of the tall canopy, but not today. The renewed strength gave you confidence that you could climb to the top of the building you were hiding behind.

You took your trusty rope and, your bow and some arrows just in case they attacked you and started climbing up. The building that you had chosen was in pretty good state, it still had most of its stairs and you didn't have to jump too far from one part of some broken stairs to another, which would also be handy when climbing down.

About 3 floors from getting to the top, you encountered the biggest problem: no more stairs. They were all broken or looked very unstable, your best option to climb up was the outside of the building. The design made it look like a stair, and if you went a little bit over the edge that was keeping you from falling you could see a metal hook thingy in which you could tie a rope to climb down.

First you made a knot at the end of the rope with just enough space to insert it in the hook, after that you threw that end of the rope with just enough strength to get it to where you needed it. It took you 3 attempts, but eventually you made it and started climbing the rope. Your hands were already tired from days before, but the view would make it all worth it.

Eventually when you were halfway through something made a weird noise. At first you didn't pay much attention to it but then y sounded again and this time you felt the rope moving. The hook couldn't withstand your weight anymore, and you could feel it just pulling down.

You tried to keep taking deep breaths but that was not working, they were faster than before.

*crack*

You looked up and saw the rope sliding off the hook even farther than before, that was when you started panicking. Your breathing wasn't steady anymore and now you were seconds away from falling from the almost top of the building.

A piece of the building where the hook was gave up and you let go of the rope for milliseconds and eventually grabbed the rope but it burned because of the friction, and you screamed in pain.

Noa and his friends, who were happily watching the sunset, looked at each other when you screamed. The three of them looked around for the thing that had made such a horrible sound but couldn't see anything.

You tried climbing up again, but now your hands were bloody from the fall, and you were slipping from the rope. You were in agony.

"Please, not like this, I can't die like this" You said to yourself trying to reassure yourself that you were not going to die.

That's when Noa heard you and looked over the building, he signaled his friends to jump to the other building.

"She will die if we don't help," Soona said with worry.

" What do we do?" Anaya asked Noa.

Noa went to were the rope was tied.

"Please don't kill me!" You shouted, looking up seeing one of the apes.

Noa frowned his face but kept trying to pull you up.

You understood then he was trying to help, but you knew the extra weight on the now unstable floor was not going to help.

"No, let go! You'll make it worse!" You tried to explain with tears rolling down your face. You couldn't stand the pain anymore.

Eventually the rope itself started tearing up, you were about 15 meters from the ground, you knew it was unlikely to survive that fall, your only hope was now with the 3 apes that were trying to help.

You saw the male ape trying, again, to pull you up, but it was useless with the rope tearing, and that's when it happened.

The rope tore apart, and you started to fall, your only hope for surviving was the trees below you would cushion your fall enough for you not to die. The only thing you were able to come up with was using your left arm to cover your neck as best you could.

Silence. Silence followed after your fall. Anaya was the first one to get to you and he poked you with a stick.

Soona quickly took the stick from him and went to check if you were still alive. She saw that you were still breathing thankfully. But your left forearm was completely broken.

"What happens now?" Soona asked Noa.

Noa was not sure what to do, his instincts told him to leave you there to die, after all, you were Echo. You would only mean problems to the clan, but there was another part of him that felt responsible for you and wanted to help you out.

"We take her home, help her wounds. After that, she has to leave." Noa said to Soona.

Soona nodded and took your frail body, and the three friends started their journey back home, back to Eagle Clan.

[randomfoggytiger]

Hey Tiger!

So I’m doing a XF rewatch and In the coming days I’ll be on the infamous ‘The Field where I Died’ I don’t think I’ve seen this episode in over 10 years and I don’t really remember it. I know this episode is quite divisive amongst the community because iirc it portrays M and S as “friends” in every previous lifetime and not lovers. So I want to know your opinion/thoughts on this episode. Thank you!

Hey, thanks for droppin in! :DDDD

Your question spiraled into a longer meta I've been meaning to write, so I cut those segments out and should finish the post later on.

I've talked about The Field Where I Died before (posts here and here) but! To the point: I think TFWID can be separated into three categories: the intent, the execution, and the lack of fault-taking.

The intent of The Field Where I Died is intriguing, I own: soulmates, not in twos but threes, that are trapped in a doomed, self-fulfilling, cycle (that never-ending line.) Love and longing; yearning and relearning. For those reasons, I can see why some fans love it. (I can especially see why David Duchovny loves it-- the security of forever, impermeable love unbound by time or human faults and frailties.) And the score and cinematography are gorgeous, and moving, and haunting. I get it.

The execution, however.

It... wasn't great. So much so that Morgan had to admit its many faults. The execution is so faulty, in fact, that it's easy to write off these grand examinations and touching gestures as nothing more than the sway of persuasive, mentally unwell people. That, and Kristin Cloke's acting; that, too, and cutting up David Duchovny's hypnosis scene so badly that his own acting flails without context.

The fault-taking... was worse. And a recent discovery. Well, half recent. I'd long heard the lovers of TFWID-- DD and Kumail Nanjiani, recently-- reiterate that the power of the story doesn't dim even though Mulder and Scully aren't romantic soulmates. That that wouldn't lessen their bond; and they could be romantic soulmates if they (read: you) wanted them to. Sure, I can see it; I can buy it. The problem is, the intent was mangled in execution so badly that the message wasn't translated so much as narratively spelled out to the audience in broad, cursive, underlined letters that didn't loop back into the story elegantly (if at all.) We're told the message so we must believe it. We feel magic in the air; and thus, are expected to let rationale pale in comparison. But because the story, theme, and execution is so mangled, no one largely cares for the end result. And because no one largely cares for the end result, fault has to be laid somewhere.

And because fault had to be laid somewhere, Morgan laid it neatly on the fans for not quite understanding and on the executives for having to cut out necessary scenes and, maybe, a little on himself for not explaining as best as he could. Instead of accepting, of course, that he could have written shorter exposition to get the point across within the time limit; should have fact-checked whether CSM had already been born when Gestapo CSM was killing a previous incarnation of Mulder's; and would have anticipated these plot holes if he wasn't so self-involved in recreating his and his wife's love story through the mouths of disparate characters with separate stories, personalities, and goals.

Now, The Field Where I Died did have its merits. I love how the writers explored Mulder's draw to lonely, vulnerable, self-destructive women (like himself); and I like their read on his and Scully's characters (to be discussed in a future post.) And I do understand the magnetism of this episode's concept on screen. And I'm lulled by the thought that this episode could be stretched into a larger concept: that of Mulder the sacrificial lamb and Scully the savior, an angle canon keeps plucking at throughout the series (Deep Throat, Tooms, Little Green Men, One Breath, End Game, Paper Clip's The White Buffalo Woman/the White Calf, Pusher, Redux II, Fight the Future's "But you saved me", One Son, Amor Fati's "Get up and fight", Deadalive, etc.) and one that neatly ties into her possible immortality. But those are aspects the fans have to read into "the text", not ones that are written in purposefully.

It's just, in short, not for me. :))))))

[shortcakecuties]

Madoka magica x Twisted wonderland! (And reader >u<)

Summary, In which the madoka cast stumbles upon a mirror, leading them to somewhere unknown...

I will write a part 2 to this or make hcs to this !!

Ask by @themoshi666 ♡

The quintet was on daily witch patrol, just like any other evening. As they all entered the entrance to a labyrinth, they were greeted with a sweet lullaby.

"I thought these labyrinths were supposed to be scary, this witch is definitely is gonna be a cake walk." Kyoko commented confidently, her voice echoing in the elegant halls. The halls looked similar to a castle from a fairy tale, having huge windows showing fake scenery.

"I feel like a princess in here! Whoever turned into a witch definitely had taste." Sayaka mentioned, completely captivated by the beautiful architecture.

They finally arrived to what seemed the entrance to the main part of the labyrinth. All of them prepared their weapons to attack. Homura pulled the giant wooden doors and there it was, the witch. The majority of it was a mirror, with a face? Some of the quartet was distracted by the strange coffins levitating and the paintings of famous childhood stories decorated all over the strange patterned walls. "Its like someone's childhood here..." madoka mumbled. Sayaka agreed, "I kind of feel bad trying to kill this witch." Homura quickly interjected their conversation. "This is a witch, it's not human anymore. let's go."

No doubt that they were being bested by this witch. One by one they were getting exhausted. The labyrinth kept changing from a castle littered with hearts and checkered floor to an ocean with fish of all kind swimming around. With each place change, it kept getting stronger. It didnt help that their soul gems were getting quite clouded with darkness.

Kyoko yelled at everyone, "We have to go! Were getting nowhere with this fight!" Madoka looked over just for second and suddenly felt a sharp pain behind her. The tentacles of the sea witch had hit her. Homura caught a quick glance of it and yelled "Madoka!"

She fell to the floor hard near where they had all entered. Homura quickly came to her aid. The rest had given up quickly and rushed to the entrance. The wooden doors was now a huge coral blocking the entrance. Mami tried shooting at it but it wouldnt budge. Before everyone knows it, they were cornered. They all thought their last moments would be near as the sea witch swung her tenticals their way. Before they could feel any pain, a blinding light overtook their senses.

☆

Spending after school cleaning with ace, deuce, and grim was not on your plan today... Yet they somehow managed to drag you down with them. You sigh as you wipe down the mirror in the mirror chamber. Hearing them bicker for the 10th time today was getting to you. "It was not my fault! Those hedgehogs have a mind of their own!" Ace complained. Deuce followed up with, "all because you wanted to take a break...yeah, definitely not your fault." Grim snickered at ace and once again they continued to fight.

Suddenly you noticed something weird about the mirror it had a faint glow to it...maybe its just your imagination? The glow started to intensify little by little. You wanted to ask the trio about, "Hey-" before you could even finish, a blinding white light enveloped the room and you felt something push you down.

Multiple grunts of unfamiliar voices filled your ears. Once the light died down, there was revealed to be four, no..five girls? You were frozen in place once you saw one of the girls point a gun at you.

"Where are we?" Homura demanded. Ace and deuce tried to get closer but homura pointed the gun at them instead.

"Damn! You don't have to be hostile! You're the ones who came out of nowhere!" Ace argued back. Mami held her arm out, blocking homura's aim of fire.

"I dont think we're in a labyrinth anymore. These are actual humans." Mami stood up and apologized "Sorry, we were previously in a battle before this, were kind of shaken up."

Deuce finally spoke up, clearly confused, "then why are you guys in school uniforms?" To their dismay, their transformations faded. Quickly the rest of the girls stood up and walked up to mami,

"our soul gems look fine but I cant transform!" Sayaka panicked. Then quickly asked the boys, "how can we go home?! We're completely magicless here!"

You lift yourself up from the floor and walked over to the group, "all you have to do is go up to the mirror and say where you came from." You spoke, you had a gut feeling that it wouldnt work and they'll maybe end up just like you.

Madoka went up to the mirror and sternly told it, "bring us back to Mitakihara city!" The mirror did nothing. It only replied, "there is no such thing as Mitakihara city."

Everyone just stood in silence as they took in the information. You hate how you're always right.

☆

[velieditss]

Forbidden Desires

Pairing: Davos Blackwood x Bracken!reader

CW: Just Brackens being the Blackwoods' number 1 haters

Summary: It wasn’t your fault that your brothers' feud with the Blackwoods escalated into a deadly duel, nor that it cost lives, but now, it is your responsibility to make him hate you... or love you.

An: 🤭

"You're mad!"

You shouted, pulling away from the fireplace. Your anger was mounting despite the day having just begun, and you shoved the poker back into its stand with a rough motion. Outside, a mischievous wind lashed the leaded windows with heavy raindrops and stinging sleet, its wild abandon mocking the oppression weighing down your spirit. The disordered tumult of dark clouds looming over the Bracken house mirrored your mood, accompanied by the fiery violet glare in your eyes as you stared furiously into the flames.

"You're all mad!" you shouted indignantly.

The word echoed in your mind. *Marriage.* What had once been a childhood dream had turned into a synonym for absurdity. It wasn’t that you were against marriage. Not at all! The education your mother had given you had prepared you to be a good wife. The problem was that, because of your brothers and their ridiculous duels with the Blackwoods, the situation had reached the ears of King Viserys.

And no, it wasn’t the first time the king had asked you to set aside your differences and maintain peace, but this time, their stupid fight had resulted in deaths, fires, and significant losses.

As a result, Viserys had ordered that, as a proof of goodwill to prevent it from happening again, the two families should unite in marriage.

"Why me?" you demanded, pointing at your entire family.

"Barbara is older; she should marry that ridiculous, dissolute Blackwood," you spat out the best insult you could muster in your moment of fury.

"I'm engaged, you fool," Barbara replied with a dismissive tone.

"For three years now. Be realistic and admit that Lord Banefort will never marry you!"

"Enough!" Lord Amos barked, silencing his two daughters.

You had never seen Davos Blackwood, nor had you cared to, but now you wished you had. In your mind, you pictured eyes too close together, a thin, hooked nose, lank hair sticking out and thin lips curled in a lascivious smile revealing small, yellow teeth. You completed your creation with a wart on the tip of a nearly nonexistent chin. The final image came into full splendor when you placed it on a scrawny, bony body.

Forced to bury the fantasies of youth, the prospect of married life held no pleasant promises. It was not at all strange for a young woman to reject the suitor her parents imposed upon her; what was strange was that they accepted the rejection and heeded the opinion of the affected party.

Lord Bracken brought one hand to his forehead, as if his head throbbed, and collapsed onto the sofa. He looked at his two sons, who had remained silent since the king’s representative had left.

"The king could overlook one duel, two duels caused surprise, and you were warned—and even those could have been overlooked because no one had died—but three, with deaths and fires..." your father sighed, exasperated.

"You could have refused," you accused.

"And be branded a coward? Of course, I couldn't refuse," Raylon replied. "At least this time, I nearly killed Davos; maybe the bastard will still die from his wounds, and we can put an end to this nonsense."

Restless, you walked to the window and, through the diamond-shaped panes, stared pensively at the cobbled path. The trees surrounding the village were skeletal, dark silhouettes behind the dense curtain of rain.

"Send her immediately," Olyver interrupted. "The Blackwood won’t accept her, and he'll be the one to lose a great deal of his fortune by paying a breach of contract."

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

You expected nothing else from him, who harbored not a shred of interest in you. Standing at six feet tall, nearly the same height as your father and just as handsome and robust as Amos had once been, Olyver had his flaws, but that didn’t make him any less attractive.

All the Brackens resembled each other, with the same black hair and light green eyes, the only variation being in height. Barbara and you had both surpassed your mother in height by a few inches, but Olyver and Raylon were as hedonistic as Prince Daemon. Or so they claimed; however, what was true was that, at their young age, they had already amassed a few mistresses. And yet, they had the audacity to seek the hands of Princesses Baela and Rhaena, before it was announced they would marry their cousins, of course.

"You two shouldn’t speak; you have no right after causing an atrocity that now forces us to mix our blood with those filthy Blackwoods," Lord Amos pointed at them.

"Those duels were insignificant, trivial. They were the first to draw their swords, Father," Raylon tried to justify.

Your father sighed and looked at you in silence, observing as you turned your back on them and simply listened.

"My daughter, I know you don’t like it—no one does—but these are the king's orders."

You averted your gaze to the path, feeling a dull pain, like a mild betrayal: you were just beginning to live, and already you were to become the wife of your worst enemy.

You had no desire to offer a kind smile to another, much less to one of those foolish dolts, and you sincerely hoped, even prayed, that some bridge, damaged by the rain, would collapse under the weight of the carriage transporting you, and both would be lost forever beneath the waters... you wouldn’t regret it too much. You were certain that the seven hells would be a more comfortable destination than the lands of the Blackwoods.

"So, when do I leave?" you asked resignedly, turning to face your family.

There was only a brief silence, a small one.

"You will depart at dawn tomorrow, with an escort and a lady-in-waiting."

They were sending you alone to the slaughterhouse. How amusing.

𖣂︎

"Make him love you, my dear. Make him fall deeply in love with you, and you’ll enjoy a good life by his side," your mother whispered before you boarded the carriage.

As beautiful as that sounded, it was more likely the Blackwood would tie you to a stone and throw you into the sea to drown once you set foot in his castle.

The carriage, bearing the family crest, had stopped at the main gate. You supposed that family pride required your arrival at the enemy’s door to be grand. In addition to the coachman, you were escorted by two footmen; the servants accompanying you had received instructions: they were to return home with you immediately if you were not received. Otherwise, the servants (except for your personal maid) were to return to Stone Hedge in the carriage. Your last hope was to trust that they wouldn’t let you in and that Lord Samwell Blackwood didn’t care about losing a large sum of his fortune.

The emissary had first gone to the Bracken house. From Stone Hedge, it took half a week by carriage to reach the Blackwood home at Raventree Hall. The representative was already on his way and was only a day ahead of you, which meant that the Blackwoods were still unaware of your imminent arrival. If the news enraged them when they received it ("and rightly so," you thought), it would be like leaving yourself in the hands of the stranger.

You wished you had more than a single day to regain your composure before your arrival.

It would have been logical to wait for the Blackwoods' reaction, but the Brackens were truly confident that you would be rejected.

You still remembered what Olyver had said to you:

"Marry him first, then poison him," was all he said. "If you do it right, we can claim half their lands, or all of them."

Of course, as if the rest of his family wouldn’t fight back and, in the process, make the stone-throwing scenario a reality.

"And what if I end up liking him?" you had replied.

You didn’t have much faith that it would happen, but it could...

"You won’t like him. You’ll be loyal to your family and hate him."

However, you said nothing, and masked your shock at the suggestion. You knew he was wicked and resentful, even cruel, but... *bloodthirsty*? And yet, he was so handsome, enjoyed so many advantages, and was even the eldest son of his father...

Even so, you took the vial of poison in your hands and hid it among your clothes.

"Can you remind me once more, why do we hate the Blackwoods?"

Olyver shrugged.

"They’re despicable, but other than that, I don’t know," he replied, snorting. "But don’t cross us on this matter, sister. We don’t want to be related to them through marriage. Not again, I hate seeing the Blackwood name in our records. His death will eliminate any other demands the king might make of us."

You gestured towards the door, and he gave you such a wicked look for dismissing him that you thought he might punch you to emphasize what he had just told you—it wouldn’t have been the first time he did so. But Olyver was still focused on his intrigue, and before leaving, he said:

"As a widow, you’ll enjoy freedom, more freedom than a family or a husband could ever provide. Don’t forget that, sister."

It was ridiculous that the only thing you knew about the Blackwoods was that they wanted to see your family extinct. You didn’t know if Davos was a cold or unstable man; he might even be engaged to another woman, in love with someone else...

If you thought about it, you couldn’t pity him more than you already did.

Poor man and poor family, but if he dared to marry you and take a lover, you would burn his lands to the ground, down to the very foundations.

Masterlist

Chapter 2

[traumatizing-unnamed-ocs]

The end of fighting

Summary: Hero is exhausted, just trying to keep Villain distracted while the rest of the team does their job. And Villain? Villain just might discover something Themes: Power dynamics (some nice kneeling ;)) Possible triggers: Fighting, Murder mentioned, slight suicidal tendencies I guess

With every breath there was a taste of blood in Heros mouth, but they couldn’t take a break. Not yet.

“Come on, is that all you can do?” Villain asked lightly, as if Hero wasn’t even a threat to them. They weren’t. If Hero had been well rested, well equipped by J.U.S.T.I.C.E, things would have been different. But they had been pulling double shifts since Superhero had left, and this had never been supposed to be a fight they would win. They just needed to be a distraction, while the important heroes disabled the bombs. 

“I’m barely getting started”, Hero forced out, attempting another attack but barely managing to reach Villain.

“Ups, too late. Hey, maybe I should buy you a coffee, because this is getting boring.”

“Can you please just shut up?” Hero heard their own desperation and wanted to slam their head into a wall. Never let them see your weak points, you just show them where to attack. But Villain already knew that far too well where to attack Hero, and like J.U.S.T.I.C.E had said, it didn’t matter if Hero died in this fight, as long as it was after the bombs were disabled. The sound of an explosion shook the ground.

“Oh fuck me”, Villain explained, turning their back to Hero as if they weren’t even a threat, and looking at the cloud of smoke that was now rising from the bank. “Guess inflation isn’t going to go up for a while”, they said, sounding oddly unbothered by the whole situation.

Hero thought about running away. They were allowed to, their only mission was to distract Villain until the bombs weren’t a threat any more, which was now, even though things hadn’t played out the way they had wanted. But running away seemed like so much work, and honestly, Hero didn’t see the point. So they just stood there, panting from exhaustion, until Villain turned around.

“Still here?” Villain asked, as if they had read Heros' mind. “Don’t tell me you still want to fight.”

“I don’t care”, Hero got out, still hardly getting any breath. They were sore all over. They were so fucking tired.

“Not to tell you what to do, but you probably should start caring now”, Villain said, taking a menacing step towards Hero. “I mean, my plan just got destroyed. I am angry. I want revenge. And you are right here, in front of me, and it’s your fault. Hero, I am seriously contemplating killing you.”

There was a part of Heros' brain screaming at them to run. They needed to keep fighting, keep going, there was so much they still needed to do. But they also felt so incredibly tired.

“Fine”, Hero heard themself say. Then they fell to their knees. Then they waited for the blow to come.

After a while, the pain in their lungs lessened. Their heartbeat went down to an almost normal rhythm, the sound of blood rushing in their ears subsided. And, curiously, they were still alive.

As Hero dared to look up, they found Villain looking down at them. The expression in their face was something Hero couldn’t place, at least not in this situation. Pity was the thing that came to mind, but Hero knew what pity looked like, and this wasn’t it.

“You could still run away”, Villain offered. “I wouldn’t try to stop you.”

“What’s the point?” Hero asked. Something new seemed to have spread its wings over the two of them, something that seemed strangely comfortable for the situation they were in.

“I don’t know. What would be the point in killing you?”

“I don’t know”, Hero echoed.

“I don’t either. It’s not like you, as a person, have done anything that bad. You just work for a shit corporation.” Hero thought that maybe they should say something about this, probably in defence of J.U.S.T.I.C.E, but it didn’t seem like Villain was expecting them to answer, and honestly, Hero didn’t really care that much about J.U.S.T.I.C.E. It was just the only job they knew how to do. “And it would be a shame to kill somebody that looks so pretty on their knees.”

Forgotten were all thoughts about J.U.S.T.I.C.E. Hero stared up at Villain in absolute shock.

“Oh come on, I can’t be the first person to think that you are cute. I mean, it’s a pathetic-wet-cat kinda charm, but believe me, there’s a substantial audience for that.”

Now Hero really wanted to say something, because they did not want to have a pathetic-wet-cat kinda charm, but there wasn’t exactly a dignified way to defend themself while kneeling in front of Villain. 

The far sound of hurried steps broke the strange tension between them. Villains gaze snapped away from Hero, and they were hurrying to get away. But then, with another look at Hero, they stopped.

“Oh fuck it”, they said out loud, scrambling to get something from their pocked. “Don’t make me regret this. If you ever have a day off, call me, and I’ll buy you that coffee you need.” 

Hero stared dumbly, as a folded piece of paper was pressed into their hand.

“But if you set me up, I will kill you, no matter how cute you look.”

And with that, Villain was gone.

This story featured Hero as Hero and Vigilante as Villain. Will they return?

[run-little-hero]

T/CW // Unhealthy relationship, violence, grief, death, NSFW

The first time Hero engaged Villain in a fight was lifetimes ago, before tragedy had seeped its way into every part of their being. There’s a price attached to this job, Hero knows that now.

They’re facing Villain and the setting is all wrong. Hero feels like laughing. It’s absurd to think they ever did this in the name of justice. It’s all meaningless now; the fighting, the title, the prestige—meaningless to both of them, Hero can see that.

Minutes pass before Villain breaks their silence. “Sometimes I think I hear them say my name while I’m standing in another room.” They stare at the floorboards. Hero isn’t surprised they found them here. “I’m going crazy, right?”

Hero’s eyes drift to the couch. They remember falling asleep, Civilian’s head resting on their chest. The memory of burnt coffee wafts through the apartment.

“Would you be so lonely if you were going crazy?” Hero remarks.

“Maybe I wouldn’t.” Villain walks over to the coffee table, picking up an abandoned glass. “Hopefully it’ll get worse with time.”

According to the agents handling the case, Civilian’s relatives have been hard to locate, so no one has been by to clear out the apartment in the five days since they were killed. It’s not right their home should remain untouched. Something in Hero thought it might collapse in on itself now that it’s human isn’t in the world. This reflection of Civilian, destroyed.

And in the middle of this static snow globe is Villain. Hero’s enemy. The only person on Earth who understands what they’re going through. Hero hates them for it. For being a reminder.

“Villain,” Hero begins. “I want you to get out.”

Villain looks up. “I’m not done yet.”

“Done with what?”

Their expression morphs to anger. With a violent swing, they throw the glass onto the floor. Hero follows a few of the shattered pieces as they slide across the ground.

“I’m not done,” they repeat. Villain makes no effort to finish their statement. Hero understands anyways. Especially now, words seem so unnecessary. But how dare they destroy a piece of Civilian—what little they have left of them.

Hero tackles them, knocking the couch back in the process. Villain struggles, trying to push Hero off. Hero goes for their face, landing a punch across their jaw, then another. Blood drips from the corner of their mouth.

Villain manages to free themself with a knee to Hero’s stomach. They double over and Villain springs to their feet, running to grab a paperweight off a shelf. Hero gets back up, dodging Villain’s swing with the blunt object. They take the opportunity to push them through the glass coffee table. Shards dig into their bleeding hands as they struggle to rise. They’re stopped by the press of Hero’s boot on their chest, pinning them in place.

A sick smile spreads across Villain’s face. “They wouldn’t want us to fight, you know.”

Hero lifts their boot and stomps on Villain’s chest again, making them wheeze. “Shut up!” Hero yells. “It’s all your fault. You’re the reason they’re dead.”

“No,” they whimper. “If it’s my fault, then we split the blame.” Shut up. Hero can’t stand the implication.

“If you didn’t get in my way they wouldn’t have died! I could have stopped Supervillain!”

“I know that!” Villain cries. “You think I knew this would happen? You think I wanted this?” They sound as pathetic as Hero.

Hero blames Villain, but that blame is also inseparable from themself. If they’d protected Civilian better, if they’d just stayed away from them in the first place, they’d be alive. They’d never have been caught in the crossfire of Villain and Hero’s affections.

Hero takes their boot off Villain’s chest and bends down, grabbing them by the collar. Despite their efforts, Hero can’t convince themself that Villain’s feelings for Civilian are disingenuous. “I hate you,” they spit. “I hate that you’re here and Civilian’s gone. I hate that you’ve left me alive to deal with all this grief.”

They drop their hold on Villain and step away. “I hate how I wish it was me instead of Civilian, and not you.” Tears sting Hero’s eyes at the admission. Shame is a twisted thing. Love can hide behind it, disguise itself as such.

Villain scrambles, struggling to stand. They find their footing, brushing off shards of glass. They sway as they step forward, collapsing into Hero as soon as they’re within reach. Hero catches them.

They whisper, “I hate how we wasted so much time.” They’re crying. “Civilian wanted better for us, but we didn’t.”

Regret is the worst agony in grief. Hero knows they will never surface from it. Neither will Villain. They’re trapped in it, just as they’ve always been trapped in each other’s orbit.

Villain reaches for Hero’s face, cupping it with an injured hand. They drag a red finger across their lips. Hero holds Villain as they cry and bleed. Hero holds them as they kiss. It’s slow and sad. It’s full of a longing that will never be fulfilled. It contains emotions bursting to the surface and a truth finally acknowledged.

They part for a moment and Villain weakly pushes Hero onto the floor by the fallen couch. They wince as a few stray pieces of glass puncture their skin, but it’s forgotten as soon as Villain climbs on top of them and begins pressing kisses down their neck.

“Hero,” they whine.

This is the disruption Hero craved. Kissing their enemy in the wreckage of their mutual dead lover’s home. It’s deranged and it’s perfect for them.

“Hero,” Villain mutters in their ear. Hero fingers the buttons of Villain’s shirt. “Civilian.”

They freeze upon hearing the name. Villain just called them by Civilian’s name. It brings tears to their eyes. Desire courses through them.

“Say it again,” they demand.

Villain obeys. “Civilian.” Their name pounds in Hero’s ears as they listen to Villain chant it. “Civilian, Civilian, Civilian.” It’s the motivation Hero needs to rip Villain out of their clothes.

It’s poisonous. Polar extremes of grief and pleasure flood Hero’s mind until all three of them—Hero, Villain, and Civilian—warp together.

Hero can’t help but echo it back. “Civilian,” they say.

It makes Villain gasp. Their lips clash together. They choke on each other’s blood and tears and pretend it’s Civilian there with them.

Hero’s hands explore their skin. It’s the first time they’ve done this, but it’s something so inevitable it feels like it’s already happened. Villain feels so familiar. Hero focuses on the cacophony of ‘Civilian’s coming from both of them until they reach their climax.

Villain is breathless afterwords. “Hero,” they plead. Eyes closed, Hero feels Villain’s tears drip onto their face. “You’re all I have.” A kiss. “I need you.”

How terrible it is to find bravery in grief. It’s easy for Hero to say, “I need you, too. I love you. I have for a long time.”

They kiss, and Hero is filled with regret, because they will never be able to embrace like this without feeling Civilian’s absence. “I love you,” Villain mumbles.

They lie there well into the night. Villain falls asleep on Hero’s chest. Hero wonders if anyone would find them if they stayed like this, rotting away in Civilian’s apartment. They think it’d be a fitting tomb.

—

snippet #8

[formulapookie]

💛💛

Under the cut to read on Tumblr, here to read on Ao3 ch1; ch2; ch3; ch4; ch5; ch6

Les fleurs du mal ch7 rosquez, 3,2k words

The flight is not worth any kind of notice, the air inside the plane feels heavy, as if someone just put tons and tons more worth of weight on Vale’s shoulder just to keep him anchored to the floor and not let him fly away.

The hostess passes by a few times, asking if he wants anything, Vale barely acknowledges her presence, shaking his head and saying he’s ok.

It’s still half an hour to Barcelona. From there it’s less than an hour drive to Cervera.

God he’s really doing this. He’s- what the fuck is he even doing?

They won’t let him near the body, or the fucking funeral for that matter, let alone close to his grave.

But he needs to see him.

Even if it won’t be sunny, happy Marc he’ll look at, but this strange version of him.

Still in his selfishness Vale wants. He thinks he’s owed that. To see Marc. To look at what he did, because he thinks it’s a suitable way to pay for his actions.

He wants to be the one in the front row saying his last goodbye, wants to be the one carrying the casket, it should be him.

Not Lorenzo, not Dovi, not Pedrosa, not Alex.

If he could, if he only could, he would carry him into the church and from there to the graveyard all alone.

He’d cry. Beg for Marc to come back probably. But at least he’d be close.

Unbeating heart next to warm skin.

Vale doesn’t cry often, before this the last time he cried was for Marco.

God how much had he cried for him.

Uccio and his parents tried to get him out of his room for days, he refused to eat, or drink for that matter. He thought about staying locked in there until the same fate that got Sic got him too, so that they could still ride together in the clouds, like he said Marco to be doing.

Only Luca had managed to get him out, shake him from the dark and rotten place he caved himself a shelter in, and bring him back out, but it was a long and difficult task.

Marco, he. He never fully agreed to the version for which he died before. The one saying that the moment he fell and slid on the track without his helmet he was already dead.

No.

He barely agreed to the one publicly accepted, which is that Marco was there, 50/50 with a chance of never recovering and he just sped up the process.

The fact is he believed and still secretly believes to this day that he killed him. Ran him over, snapped his neck, and killed his best friend. Because maybe he would’ve survived, maybe he could’ve gotten better, maybe they’d have raced again.

For what concerns Marc there aren't even alternatives or sets of opinions about what happened, or whose fault it is, or if it could’ve ended in a different way.

He killed him.

And even if he did it unintentionally he feels like he did it on purpose. Revenge, what a sick fucking felling.

It makes you think and act in ways you didn’t think were yours.

He feels his skin itching, cutting into his muscle and he wants to tear it off, but doesn’t move in the slightest, he wants this to hurt.

Pain is a way to punish himself, though not slightly comparable to the one Marc felt, but it keeps him there, tied to reality and unable to escape the fact he hurt so many people just by being an asshole.

He thinks about the night after Sepang. It’s not a good idea.

He gets up and runs to throw up in the toilet, the alcohol and the few bites of food he’s digested are now out of his system, and he cannot think about eating anything right now.

The image of Marc standing before him, pleading and begging for a chance to be them again.

He remembers the almost-tears in the boy’s eyes, those same eyes looking at his souls trying to get a hold of it.

The image of them two makes its way in Vale’s mind.

If someone had walked in, he would’ve seen a 20 something kid getting his heart shattered, trying to pick the pieces up from the ground as Vale kicked them around, smirking with that sick fun he proved that night.

How could he treat the person who loved him the most like that? Leave him to the wolves as if it had always been like this.

Then a memory from Valencia comes up.

The one moment who revealed to him what Marc was going through.

“You like helping him uh? You sucked his dick too? Did you go to him and let him fuck you as a thank you for letting him win? Did he fuck you well Marc? I bet you enjoyed his dick so much given how you ran to me immediately after to suck me off”

“Stop it Vale please”

“Ah stop what? I’m having fun here aren’t you? Does he know how you like to be treated like the whore you are?”

Then Marc had thrown up. Those petals, horribly yellow and blue.

“I’m sorry”

But sorry doesn’t fix anything, doesn’t fix the hole in his heart shaped like a shot wound.

Sorry doesn’t bring Marc magically back and places him onto his plane, sorry doesn’t give him the chance to tell Marc he loved him still.

Sorry doesn’t do anything. It doesn’t even make him feel better. The only thing that could brighten his day is Marc’s smile.

Or a kiss from him, a hug, holding hands. An action that told Vale “I’m here, I’m here with you”

The only noise is the signal that tells him to fasten his seatbelt because they’re landing. No laugh, no “Vale you want me to hold your hand? I know you’re scared of flying”, no little yelp Marc did when they started taking off.

Vale never liked flying. Not private, not commercial. He doesn’t like lots of factors, height, pressure, danger, noise.

He hates taking off and landing most of all.

And when he’s alone he always grips the seat so fucking tight he had to replace armrests more than once. The jet company had told him he should be sure if he wants to have something so fancy he’s so scared of.

He hadn’t cared.

“Vale? Are you ok? You look a bit - a bit pale. Have you eaten? Do you want me to take you something from the bag?”

Vale shook his head, put on a reassuring smile and sat in his seat, Marc beside him smiling so much Vale though it had to hurt.

“Are you excited? For our holiday?”

Vale had gone overboard that time, something he never did for his past girlfriends, not for anyone but Marc. Marc. A shooting star that came into his life to stay.

He planned a 12 day holiday in the Philippines, just the two of them, in this apartment far from the rest of the world, where they could be just themselves without the fear of being discovered.

“I already told you amore no? Really excited, we’re gonna be in this very beautiful house surrounded by nature and near the sea for twelve days, and most importantly I get to have you all to myself for twelve days. I have already planned a few things I’d like to do once there, you know?”

Marc had blushed, looked away.

Of course he “planned” a few things as well, they were completely alone for more than a week, having sex is the most expected thing there.

And he really wants to spend at least two days straight without getting out of bed. Vale’s tension hadn’t worn down during their small chat, Marc could see how he kept on looking outside the window, and how the armrest of the seat Vale was on looked like a wild cat attacked it.

“Vale, are you nervous?” “Uh? No no I’m ok don’t worry baby” “You look strange” “No no I just am really excited about going there with you”

Marc had watched him again, until a particularly sharp noise came from the plane’s engine.

At that, Vale had shut his eyes and his mouth morphed into a thin closed line, even with his eyes closed Marc could feel the fear.

“Vale, are you scared of flying?” “No” “Amor I won’t judge you, but are you?” Vale opened his eyes, the plane was ready to take off. “Yes. I don’t like it” “Ok then uhm I can maybe hold your hand? To make you feel more secure?”

Vale also doesn’t like to ask for help, or make it obvious he needs it, but the way Marc was looking at him moved something in his chest, it made him vulnerable, but in a pleasant way. A sweet kind of it.

“Ok. Yeah yeah ok you can just-“ “Yeah I solemnly swear I will never tell Valentino Rossi wanted me to hold his hand because he’s scared of flying”

They had laughed, and Marc had brought him a kind of warmth and comfort he hadn’t felt in any other moment of his life.

Right now he’s alone. There’s an enormous emptiness beside him. An obvious lack of warmth and doe eyes looking at him with love.

Those eyes, God. How many times has he looked at them, how many times has he seen them open at the first lights of the morning in creamy white sheets they shared, how many times has he fell in love with them.

The memories are almost enough to distract him from the impending touch with the ground.

Maybe the plane will break, or crash. Save the others and leave him a carcass twisted below tons of metal sheets, unrecognizable at the sight.

Maybe this would be the right way to pay back Marc. Maybe just this could be enough. Dying of a horribly painful death, like Marc did. Alone. Cold.

The plane lands, and there’s no explosion or collision. Valentino is alive, and painfully so.

He never understood people who said they wanted to die until now. Because there’s something about thinking that it can all be over, that he can get away with it without having to face the others.

Lorenzo, Dani, Dovi.

They will be at the funeral. They will be on track. And they will know it was him.

The hostess comes up to him, tells him they’re securely landed and he can climb off the plane.

He gets up, a hoodie and a pair of du glasses on. Phone in pocket and some cash in the other.

He doesn’t need anything more, he reserved a car during the flight, it’s already there waiting for him.

He gets off the plane and in the car as fast as humanly possible, fingers tapping uncomfortably on the steering wheel, a tightening sensation in his throat.

He’s crying once again, at this point he’s surprised there’s even tears left inside him.

He stays there for ten whole minutes, then convinces himself he has to do this. He has to go.

He starts the car and gets out the airport, he doesn’t need a navigator, he knows the route by heart, him and Marc made it lots of times.

Once he’s twenty minutes away from destination he feels worse and worse about what he’s doing.

How will he even hide himself? Cervera is not a big town, and he’s not sure Marc’s family chose to have an open doors funeral.

He’s going there blindly, in the vague hope he’ll get to cast a glance at his body.

The graveyard won’t be as much of a problem, he can confuse himself with people who will want to say their goodbye. He’s sure he’ll find a way to sneak in, stay far from the family as he too mourns with them.

The town is packed, as he expected, tons of people gathered there to give their last farewell to Marc.

There’s flags,  cardboard signs, sheets, all in his honor. In the honor of the rider he was. They are mourning the icon, the sportsman he was. Not the man, the wonderful person he actually was.

And it hurts.

To them it’s an idol that died, an inspiration. To him and his family it’s a person, a brother, a son, a friend, a lover.

The square before the Church is barely noticeable, a sea of orange and red combing it whole.

Then he sees it, the side entrance Dovizioso in suing to get in. He can do it. He can get in somehow.

He squishes himself through the myriads of people waiting for Marc to come out, waiting for the men dressed in deep black to carry him out in a coffin.

But Vake knows they’ll never come out from the front door, no they’ll come out the side one, take another car with the corpse and go to the graveyard.

And he’ll find a way to follow.

He doesn’t manage to surpass the barriers tho, he has to just wait, wait until the function is over and he can follow them to the place where his love will be buried forever.

Once he notices the funeral procession, he’s the fastest he’s ever been, running back to his car and quietly following the one with Marc in it.

It feels shady, and it is, but that’s all he can do.

He parks fairly far from the spot where he knows they’ll place Marc, climbs down the car and makes the rest of the way by foot, quietly in the December freezing cold.

He’s lucky, he knows he is, he could’ve arrived too early, or too late, or be recognised and probably publicly executed.

The graveyard is gray, gloomy and unsettling. He can see Alex from this distance, and a priest reciting something.

He wants to be there.

He’s hidden behind a tree, a bit closer now, he can hear the sobs coming from the people there and the incomprehensible words said by the priest.

Alex is holding their mother, their father is just a few centimeters to the left, heavy eyes filled with tears.

Other family members gathered around the coffin crying as well.

Their colleagues stand a bit further, crying as quietly as they can, Dani especially seems broken, hiding his face in Lorenzo’s chest, while he strokes his back gently, Dovi has marks on his knuckles, red and blotchy.

He must’ve punched something at the news.

Once the person Vale supposes to be Marc’s grandmother moves out of the way he can see him.

Soft, pale and pure skin. Frozen, unable to move. Restrained in this position for eternity, It’s a sickening view, it’s unnatural for Marc to be like that.

He wants to come out of his hiding spot, under the soft and cold light of the December sun.

Walk to the coffin, say goodbye, say sorry, cry, beg for him to come back, then accept the truth.

He can’t think of leaving a flower, not with the way Marc died.

And now that he pays more attention he can see little flowers growing out of his mouth.

He’s heard of people whose ribcage got broken by roots and flowers growing out of it, and he’s glad Marc’s situation is not like that.

The unmistakably bright yellow being the only thing of his still attached to Marc.

He makes a small mistake, a little movement and Roser turns around.

He got caught.

Roser just saw him at Marc’s funeral and now he truly is doomed.

Vale begins walking away, wants to run between the graves and go back to his car. Once he’s almost out he feels a hand on his back. He stops and turns around, ready to face a blood thirsty Alex.

But he just sees Roser, eyes red and glassy.

And he feels even worse for it, feels like a fucking cancer once again. There’s hatred in her eyes, rightfully so, and anger, and so much pain. “Take the glasses off”

He doesn’t expect that, but it’s not a punch in the guts, so he takes them off. Icy blue eyes matching with the surrounding atmosphere, eyes Roser notices to be filled with so much more than she thought.

“Why are you here?”

Her English is tentative, broken, but it can transmit all her emotions well enough. Vale can’t answer, he wants to burn a hole into the ground and fucking disappear inside it.

Words are dying inside his throat, he just looks up at Marc’s mother to feel something close to that hate he has for himself.

And there is a lot of it. But there’s also - compassion?

Or at least something that is not just pure pain and anger.

“Rossi. My son loved you” “I know” “You not” “I did. I do now too. I came here to see him I - I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry”

The last part he speaks Catalan, which shocks Roser.

Valentino Rossi, the rider, the legend, the man who hurt her son so much is now crying in front of her, knees against the icy-cold soil of a graveyard, speaking her language, saying he’s sorry.

She would want to be strong enough to just leave him there. But this man is crying like a kid lost in the woods looking for someone to help him.

There’s anger in her heart, obviously, lots of it. There’s hate. But she will never not have compassion in her heart too.

The tears, the eyes, the words, they all seem genuine to her.

“estimaves el meu fill?” (did you love my son?)

“sì. no tant com es mereixia” (yes. not as much as he deserved)

“però ara ets aquí” (but you’re here now)

“ja és massa tard. ell és mort”  (now it’s too late. he’s dead)

“ell mai va deixar de pensar que hauries tornat per ell” (he never stopped thinking you would’ve come back for him)

“ho sento” (I’m sorry)

And vale just stays there, crying, but without a sound, Roser standing in front of him. And he wants her to do something, maybe call for Marc’s father, or for Alex, or the other riders.

Instead he receives pity. And a hand on his shoulder.

“Go away before they see you, if you want to speak to my boy you should go to Church, ask for forgiveness, ask for him to be well”

And then she leaves. The mother of the boy he killed leaves. Lets him go, as if he didn’t commit the most atrocious and horrible act towards Marc.

He gets up from the ground, dirt and grass staining his jeans, the cold has made its way inside his bones, under his skin, pointy, stingy. He puts the glasses back on, tears don’t stop falling when he does, the sensation of being observed doesn’t fade.

The ride back is monotone, gray, and silent. The radio doesn’t work, and if it did Vale would turn it off anyway.

He gets to a lay-by and stops, he can’t hold it anymore, he gets out the car and vomits, it's almost just bile, maybe some alcohol still, no food. The image of Marc laying like that is too much.

It accompanies him until he reaches the airport again, leaving the car where he found it, it accompanies him while he climbs on the plane and when it takes off.

It fucking follows him to the bedroom door once he's home.

[ronwestbreeze]

bow to me

pairing: geto suguru x non-sorcerer!reader warnings: gore and violence, use of the word "monkey" lol summary: you're your mother's deadliest sin word count: 5.1k author's note: i had fun with this one, hehe. hope you guys like it <3

part 1 | read on AO3

You weren’t a cursed spirit.

Or maybe you were, you weren’t necessarily well-versed in the world of curses and sorcerers. You just knew them by name.

You weren’t human.

Well, maybe you were, just a different kind. Cursed.

Yeah.

Maybe you were cursed.

There was an eerie quiet now. Your mind had never been so quiet. Not in a long time.

It was a rarity. This silence.

You decided that this was what peace felt like and that you weren’t going to let it go. You weren’t going to deny yourself any longer.

In the end, it was pathetically funny. Pretending to be normal whenever you never were. From birth, you had always been like this. So, you leaned back in the chair, your arm covering your face, and laughed.

And laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

It was hilarious.

The bodies lying at your feet were quiet as stone. But you figured they’d laugh too if they were alive.

Once your laughter went to giggles, you peeked over your arm and stared up at the ceiling fan.

“You’re your mother’s deadliest sin.” You sang to yourself. At least that’s what your father always said.

“She’s saved!”

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

You dropped your face into your hands and shivered. Bile coated your throat, tightened with such conviction. But none of it was from the stench of the bodies around you. It wasn’t the taste of flesh on your tongue.

Tears spilled out of your eyes uncontrolled.

You laughed. You cried. You couldn’t really tell anymore.

“You won’t have to suffer anymore.”

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

What the hell were they clapping for?

You opened your eyes, staring straight at one of the bodies lying down in front of you. Lifeless eyes that were once pleading for mercy, staring back at you. And for an instant, that little voice—the you a year ago, still trying to be human, still trying to live life as a regular sixteen-year-old—whimpered.

What am I doing?

You were cursed.

No, no, no, I promised I would. I promised!

Your father saw you as a blessing.

What am I doing? This isn’t me. This isn’t—

And your mother died for it.

“Now you can rest, my sweet girl.”

Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.

Your breathing was shaky. But your body gave in multiple times. You sat up straighter, taking in all the bodies in the small living room.

Perhaps, you went a little far this time.

Then again, you’ve been hungry for a long time now.

“Do you have any more rice balls?”

You remembered their little faces so vividly. The only memory you allowed to snake its way through your mind while pushing everything else back into the tight box.  So detailed. Precious. Undeserving of this world.

You failed them. You should’ve fought harder and killed the townspeople yourself.

Unfortunately, someone had beaten you to it.

2007

It’s been a pretty hellish day.

Granted, it might’ve been partially your fault.

You had gone on another binge but made sure to keep the bodies to a minimum of five this time around. But you supposed that was still too much because it drew some unwanted attention.

Usually, you kept to yourself at an abandoned hospital south of Tokyo. That was where you fed and left the bodies to rot. No one questioned it since many locals tended to stay away from the hospital. Something about it being haunted.

The haunted part was also, technically your fault but that’s beside the point.

Earlier in the day, it was pretty regular. You had a new job working at a café which gave you a lot of access to coffee in case you got a little squirmy around people, especially flesh. And the job had been pretty steady, you’ve been in the city for about half a year now. And it’s been pretty simple.

You’ve somewhat learned to control your hunger, choosing certain days to feed. Choosing the type of people to feed from, such as perverted men or just men in general whenever you felt extra pissed that day. Rarely did you go after women unless you were really, really hungry.

Children were off limits.

Sorcerers were a rarity. And all the more fun.

So what you expected as your usual day suddenly turned interesting when an older man you were serving started asking you strange questions.

“I’m sorry, but that’s not on the menu, sir.” Was your casual answer with the usual customer service smile.

The man grinned, “Wow, you almost seem convincing. I’m impressed.” He leaned his elbows on the table with a smug smirk, “Curses have gotten so advanced in this day in age, especially compared to when I first started.”

You kept your face neutral, “Sir, are you going to order or not?”

You weren’t human.

You knew this.

“Tell me,” The man continued, pinning you in place with an intense gaze. “How were you able to hide from us for so long?”

Now you were irritated. Strange how quickly that happened these days.

Instead of taking his obvious bait, you offered a sweet smile, “I’ll go get you another waitress. And when you’re ready to order she’ll help you.” You tucked your notepad into the pocket of your apron. “I have other tables to attend to. Excuse me.”

After a quick bow, you left his table. He didn’t stop you either with another strange question or observation.

This was going to be a long day. But you couldn’t help the secret grin tugging at your lips as you entered the kitchen.

“Heh.”

“And where is the curse now?”

The human man, Geto never bothered to learn his name, swallowed nervously, “It was at the hospital for awhile and then, well, we lost it for a second—but we managed to track it down to a local café. Since then, the curse hasn’t left.”

Geto hummed and stood from the altar, “Any sorcerers?”

“One found it. But updates have told me neither of them have left the café yet.”

The curse was elusive, Geto figured. A month ago was the first time he received word about it. There were many bodies left in its wake, so it sounded like they were quite the powerful curse. A special grade, perhaps.

It’s just that no one has managed to catch a glance of it. But apparently, it was attached to a human girl.

Simple enough.

“Bring Larue. We’re taking a small trip.” Geto smiled passively at the man. “You’re of no use to me anymore.”

He should’ve sent Larue in the first place instead of this monkey. A mistake he would not make again. While yes, the human could see curses, he was still of little use to Geto-sama. Plus, he was slightly irritated that he nearly lost the curse.

That deserved some form of punishment.

Geto sent him another smile, “Why don’t I award you accordingly?”

A curse appeared next to him, startling the human into a frightful scream as he stumbled off and ran.

“Make sure to go and find Larue for me whenever you can!” Geto called happily as the man kept screaming further into one of the temple corridors.

After a moment, he dusted his robes off and sighed, “Alright then. Time to get to work.”

“Huh, I thought you’d last longer.”

You mumbled as your kagune tore straight through the sorcerer’s abdomen and pinned him against the now scarlet-stained wall. By now you were sure that all the coffee was filled with drips of blood from all the deathly pale customers and former co-workers. How unfortunate.

The sorcerer didn’t respond or move. At this point, you were talking to a corpse.

“Aw, man! Now I have to get a whole new job.” You pouted, letting the body drop to the floor with the rest. “You see what you made me do? Could’ve left me be, serving gross-ass coffee. But you just had to play hero—not a very good one—but a hero, nonetheless.”

You allowed your kagune to retreat into your spine and get off the front counter. “Now how should I paint this canvas? Leave you all as is? Let the humans believe this to be a random homicide?” You stuck your tongue out, “Bleh, boring!” You knelt in front of the dead sorcerer and found yourself giggling as if he told you a joke, "Or maybe you killed them all and then yourself. Yeah, seems fitting. Sure to keep the rest of your kind off my back for a little bit. Including the humans.”

With that, you nodded to yourself and hummed a catchy tune to yourself as you went to grab a knife from the kitchen. After dancing to the song in your head, you stabbed the sorcerer in the abdomen multiple times until it was coated in his blood.

The whiff of the blood was delicious and you couldn’t help but get a few licks before putting the knife in his limp hand.

For a moment, you remained crouched in front of him. Staring straight at this corpse. Wondering when you became so used to the blood. To finding flesh so delicious.

Guess you couldn’t help who you were in the end.

Was it sad? Was it relieving?

You couldn’t say.

With a sigh, you stood, instantly catching movement in the reflection of the café front window.

“Hi, there.”

You barely had time to turn and see who else was in the café with you.

It felt as if an invisible chain yanked you back.

And everything turned black. Though, you weren’t unconscious.

And here entered the hellish part of the day.

Perhaps it wasn’t simple.

When Geto saw the curse for himself, he originally, only saw a human. But upon further inspection, he saw it. That cursed spirit. It was just hidden by that human cover.

Was it inside of the human? Was it even attached?

Or was the human the curse?

Either way, he was able to capture it and swallow it down like all the others.

The taste was strange though. Putrid like the rest but there was a sweetness to it. It was a pleasant surprise. Apart of him wished he could taste her all over again. The type of sweetness that was addicting. What a nasty drug.

It was definitely a special grade. That much was clear.

Useful. He needed power like this on his side. He was lucky to have caught it first before those sorcerers could.

Well, technically the dead sorcerer did find it first but didn’t have much time to exorcise it. Clearly.

He chuckled at the scene before him, “Well, aren’t you a gruesome little thing.”

And it was his to claim.

Proud of his recent accomplishment, he and Larue went back to the temple with more work awaiting them, well for Geto mostly.

“They’re all waiting for you, sir.” One of his followers informed him.

Next to him, Larue grinned, “Another speech tonight, Geto-sama?”

“That’s where I do my work best.” Geto smiled with a nod as he walked to the main room.

Upon entering, dozens of followers left from the Time Vessel Association got on their knees and pressed their foreheads to the matted floor.

“We live in a disease. Sickness everywhere we look.” Geto took his seat at the altar, brushing out his robes. “And it is our job to get rid of it. To clean this world of monkeys. And I recognize that many of you are hungry for that. But all followers must be guided in the right direction.” His smile grew as they kept their heads down. None of them dared to look him in the eyes as he spoke. They respected him. They adored him.

It’s what he deserved.

“You all obey me now if you wish to live and see the world we create.” No one objected to this. Larue stood further at the back with a proud smile. “Do you trust me to lead you all without question? If not—”

It’s as if for a short moment, he wasn’t in control of his body. His stomach twisted into painful knots, and his throat both retracted and tightened until he finally lurched forward and retched the ball with the curse out onto the matted floor.

“Geto-sama!”

That had to be Larue’s voice. But Geto couldn’t hear much of him. Not with a bleary mind, dazed in confusion and shock.

Yes, in the past he had vomited after swallowing curses. But they never came back up.

What the hell?

You weren’t sure where you’d end up after scaping but you sure as hell wasn’t expecting to be standing before a bunch of people, bowing but staring at you in utter shock and delicious fear.

Of course, you were still pissed about being captured but your lips lifted upward into a smirk at the sight. That is until your eyes caught on an old insignia on the wall.

The symbol for the Time Vessel Association.

You scoffed, “You guys never give up, huh?” You wiped the leftover blood off your lips and grinned, “Can’t even let it go after almost three years? That’s fine, I guess. More food for me.”

In your mouth, your canines began to ache just as your eyes locked on one of the men.  Frozen in fear at the sight of you. Looking like he was just about ready to run out of there.

“Excuse me.”

The voice rang in your ears. Coming from behind you like at the café. Lazily, you glanced over your shoulder only to be met with the last person you ever expected to see.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t eat my loyal followers.”

You didn’t recognize him at first. His hair was longer, and he wore a kasaya over his black robes—but his smile was the same, just with something a lot more sinister.

“Hey,” You mused with a raised brows, “You killed me last year. And took my girls.”

He stared at you too—you were sure he recognized you too with the subtle look of familiarity flashing in his eyes.

Of course, he recognized you.

The sweet store clerk from that village. The non-sorcerer that had made him falter back then—only by a little.

His conviction about it had been long resolved though. To him, you were just like the rest of them. A monkey.

Although, you looked quite different with blood tattooed onto your face, clothes, and body. Wearing it proudly like a second skin.

Showing little reaction to recognizing you was easy.

But it was the way you said ‘my girls’ that made his fingers twitch and his smile become stiff.

“Larue. The meeting’s ending early. Please, escort everyone out. Some important matters that need tending to.”

After the man, Larue, gave you one last cautious stare—you didn’t bother sparing him a look—he led the rest of the group out of the room. Leaving only you and this man. A cult leader if you had to guess.

“I didn’t think you were close with the girls.” He mused as he began circling you, brown eyes staring intently at every part of your body. Almost as if he were looking for something.

“Yeah? How could you after you killed me?” You threw back easily, unmoving from your spot as you let him circle you. It was a little game, you thought. You would pretend to be the prey while you let him be the predator. “Didn’t leave me much room to say anything more either. Not with your—you still on that whole killing humans shit?”

You heard him chuckle faintly behind you, “Yes, I am.”

“Mmm. How quirky of you.”

He appeared in your vision, stopping before you with his hands tucked behind his back. The way he moved was elegant like he was acutely aware of his body and those near it. “I hate to break it to you but they’ve long forgotten about you,” His smirk grew, eyes gleaming as he watched your reaction—or rather something else, you remembered he always did that when the two of you first met. “I made sure of that.”

Of course, he still wanted some reaction from you but it didn’t help that he naturally had the face of a liar—even more now than back then—so you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

The man’s—whom you still had yet to learn the name of—smirk never wavered but he still kept staring. Right through you. “You wouldn’t be meeting them, unfortunately. Not when I’m done with you.”

“Ooh.” A grin left your lips as he continued circling you. “Done with me, huh? By a girl dinner first.” He hummed from behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, having to look up only a little to see his face. Your voice was slow when you asked, “What do you plan to do to me?”

There was a chuckle as he slipped from behind you to appear in front of you once more. “So are you a vengeful spirit? I don’t particularly have time for a random human to be haunting me. I’d just kill you and be done with it.” You tilted your head but didn’t respond. Nor did he look for one. “Or you could just be a simple cursed spirit, but then there’s the question of your cursed energy. It certainly isn’t similar to a cursed spirit. And considering none of the ones I capture come back up, I’d have to cross that possibility off my list.”

“You’re talking a lot more than last time.” You pointed out, watching him curiously. He was dangerously close. And you were all too ready, all too hungry for this.

“Or,”

He continued as if you hadn’t said anything. His eyes still searching, a neutral smile playing on his face.

“Ah yes, now I see. The curse could be attached to you. A cursed human. Now how did your filthy monkey hands get a hold of this curse—”

He was close enough by then. That was his first mistake.

You snatched his neck and slammed him down onto the steps of the altar in a matter of seconds, completely taking the man off guard.

Now you straddled his waist, gripping his neck with both your hands as you laughed with wide ghoul-like eyes. His larger hand gripped your wrist, trying to free himself from your otherwise ungodly strength, his own eyes widening slightly when a red glimmer shot out of your back, sharpening to a point where it was pointed directly at his forehead.

“Who the hell do you think you are, huh?! Some god? Could’ve fooled me! Hey, why don’t we have a rematch? Maybe this time it’ll be a fair fucking fight!”

In a blink, something heavy snatched you up and swallowed you whole.

Geto sat up, rubbing his now sore neck as his curse flung around the room and landed on the ceiling, swallowing you.

“Heh,” He grunted out as he got to his feet.

Maybe he was pissed. Maybe he was intrigued. Maybe a little bit of both. Fortunately, none of his followers were in the room. Imagine they saw you manhandling him with ease like that. What leader would that make him? How could he appear weak like that in front of them?

But that didn’t stop the growing grin tugging at his lips. This was a completely different person compared to the human he met at the store—if you were even human at all. You had been so nice, and sweet—your smile so genuine. And now? Maybe death changed you. Maybe you were a cursed human.

Maybe you’ve always been like this.

“You’re not going to make this any easier on me, are you?” He sighed as he stepped off the altar, glancing toward his curse who still stuck to the ceiling. Watching him patiently. “I was going to offer to kill you quickly and then take the curse, but I see now you don’t deserve my mercy. I could have saved you. Maybe you should’ve stayed dead—either way, I’m going to enjoy having your cursed spirit under my control. It’s useful. Powerful. Something you monkeys lack—”

His curse exploded. Bits of it’s skin falling. Blood spilled onto the floor.

And a blurred object flying toward him at an ungodly speed.

Geto barely dodged you as he jumped out of the way.

You left a large hole in the floor when you landed where the man had been standing. Now your kagune was out and gleaming, hungry, and simmering with rage just as your blood was.

The man landed a few feet away from you, black holes appearing at his side with more curses spilling out of them. You grinned at this and stood straighter at the altar.

You looking down on him. Just as he had done with his followers.

Geto tried not to react at that. Tried not to show how pissed he truly was.

But you noticed it of course.

It made your grin follow into a laugh as you sunk easily into your fighting stance.

“You done spittin’ that narcissistic shit, yet?” You called amusingly. “Or are you ready for that rematch now?”

“That’s enough out of you.” He now didn’t look so amused as his cursed spirits launched themselves at you at once. “That curse does not belong to you. I believe it’s time you hand it over to me now.”

You allowed the two cursed spirits to get as close as possible before dashing from the altar and ending up in front of the man with a sickening sweet smile.

“Make me.”

But he didn’t lean away, your noses practically touching. He matched your grin, white teeth glistening in the dimly lit room.

“Gladly.”

More curses came flying at you. Some large and others small. You dodged and killed the smaller ones. The larger ones were a lot more difficult to get through. Truthfully, you didn’t know much of your limit to your strength or speed since you spent most of your life trying to suppress it all, but it seemed you were able to keep up anyway, coupled with your skills in martial arts.

And it seemed he was using the curses to keep you distracted long enough until he could get up close himself. His arms wrapped around you from behind, restricting you as a flying curse was zooming toward you, its beak wide open and ready to take your head.

“Comfortable?” He whispered in your ear, his chuckle tickling the lobe. “Is this what you wanted when we first met in that store? To be this close?”

You grinned and leaned back into him just a bit, “Your such a tease.”

With that, you smashed the back of your head into his face, forcing him to let you go as you spun and kicked him hard enough that he flew.

Fortunately for him, one of his curses caught him and another smashed into you, throwing you across the room. You quickly tore through it with your kagune and leaped back up to your feet just as he came at you.

His combat style was fast and far more experienced than you were, but you managed to keep up. You managed to land in a few jabs of your own until one of his curses took you down again.

You threw it off and spat out a mixture of spit and blood, “Cheater.”

“Like you’ve been playing fair.” He scoffed, rubbing his jaw from the last blow you had given him.

“Try not throwing your stupid curses at me and fight me yourself.” You challenged, jumping to your feet. “I can’t be the only one making the first moves here.”

Just as you said that you tackled him into the damaged altar stairs, straddling his lap again, tugging his hair so he was looking up at you, “Comfortable?”

He was staring up at you again, this time with visible interest, “You’re not human, are you?”

You rolled your eyes and let his hair go but kept your legs straddled at his waist, “What gave that away?”

“Are you done with your little show now?” He asked with a lazy smirk now on his face.

There was movement in the corner of your eye and you glared, “I swear to go if another one of your stupid curses—”

Another one slammed into you and threw you into a wall. “Asshole!” You grunted, holding your shoulder as you dodged another attack from the curse, “Play fair!”

The cheeky bastard grinned, “Make me.”

Your kagune came out. It was like a tail, almost. An extra limp that was a part of your body but hidden. It swished around, cautiously waiting for your command. Waiting for your next target.

The both of you were bruised and bloodied, surrounded by curses, but neither ready to back down just yet. You wondered how long the two of you would keep at this. Which one of you would eventually give in? Which one of you would die? Is that his end goal here? To still kill you?

Well, with the way the curses and him surrounded you, the latter seemed more possible with each passing second.

That didn’t mean you were ready to give in. Not like last time. Not like that night in the temple. The two of you stared at each other with silent challenge. He was back on the altar as if expecting you to bow down. Like you were supposed to submit like his little followers. He hid it well back then.

Only this time, there was a subtle look across his face. One he didn’t bother to hide.

He was hesitating.

Now was your chance to—

The doors behind you swung open behind you and a call of your name screamed desperately as a smaller body crashed into your back.

Your first instinct was to attack, to direct your kagune at the newcomer. Only when you felt smaller arms wrap around your waist from behind, you faltered.

Now you were hesitating.

Another body came at you at the front, just as small as the other one.

Nanako looked up at you with wide teary eyes, “Don’t hurt him! Please! We don’t want you to get hurt!”

Through your shock, you were a little offended. If they took one look at him, they’d see that you were managing just fine. But you didn’t voice that out loud. Instead, you allowed your kagune to disappear.

“We thought you were dead.” Mimiko whimpered from behind you, her hold tightening. “When Nanako said she heard your voice, I didn’t believe her. But you’re here! And we don’t want you to go!”

“Please don’t leave us again.” Nanako buried her face into your stomach, her voice becoming muffled. Silent tears were falling down your cheeks as you knelt to their height. “Please, please, please, don’t leave.”

“Okay,” You whispered to her, allowing Mimiko to come around and hug you from the front as well. You wrapped your arms tightly around them, ignoring how most of the curses that had surrounded you had disappeared. Ignoring how easily you melted in front of your girls. Ignoring how much your heart had been missing a void up until now. Ignoring how he watched the three of you intensely from the altar. “Okay, okay, I won’t leave. I’m right here.”

Mimiko pressed her cheek against yours, “Promise?”

You chuckled shakily, realizing how much you were trembling as you held them. “Yeah, I promise.”

“Okay, well, we have to pinky promise on it,” Nanako said pulling back a bit as she wiped her tears on her hoodie sleeve. “We kept our promise. Now it’s your turn.”

Nanako held out her pinky which you took instantly. Mimiko lifted her head from your shoulder and joined her pinky with yours. You allowed them to fight over covering your much longer pinky with their little ones, earning small giggles from the girls.

Geto watched the interaction, silently.

The girls never approached anyone other than Geto himself. Not even the people he trusts the most, the girls weren’t as comfortable as they were with him.

He didn’t doubt the girls' adoration for him. Not one bit. They were his.

But perhaps he saw why they were also equally yours.

Mimiko and Nanako weren’t secretive about their relationship with you, even after they thought you had died—like he told them. They always spoke fondly of you, despite knowing you for only a short amount of time. Still, in that short time, they experienced the most kindness they had ever received.

He remembered you freeing them from the cage. He remembered your protective stance when he appeared to you at the temple. He remembered the distraught look on your face when the girls willingly went with him. It wasn’t betrayal. It was sadness mixed with the simmering rage that was directed at him.

You weren’t human.

That much was clear.

You weren’t entirely a curse spirit either.

Probably more human than curse.

Geto wasn’t too sure how to feel about that yet.

Not yet anyway.

The girls were now in front of him, staring up at him with big pleading eyes. They didn’t have to say it with words.

They wanted you back into their lives. Now that you were here and alive, they wanted you. Just as much as they wanted to be by Geto’s side.

Then there was the fact that he didn’t want to kill you anymore—which was oddly unsettling for him. Technically, you weren’t human. But there was still so much to uncover about you.

And your power was useful. He couldn’t kill something like that.

He was smiling at you again. That passive one. The one that was meant as a warning as he approached you with the girls following in tow behind him.

“I don’t believe we’ve formally introduced ourselves.” You raised a brow as he leaned forward, your faces now inches apart. “You can call me Geto-sama.”

You didn’t utter your name, but he said yours with ease. Falling off his tongue in his deep and smooth voice.

“The girls told me so much about you.”

“Geto, huh?” You mumbled when the last curse sunk away.

“My followers refer to me as Geto-sama, yes.” He nodded, the smile remaining on his face.

It was annoying.

You sent him a grin, “I’m not one of your followers. Geto.”

Ever so slightly, you could see the subtle twitch in his brow. And at that, your grin grew.

Mimiko was the one to speak next, “Can we keep her?”

[gleefultogo]

page 893 & 894

Alright. so can't ignore the elephant in the room. but what the actual fuck where these two latest pages? First of all the most down played and terrible explanation on why your quote on quote father is "damaged" like i'm sorry but ronja's daughters are gonna be young adults very soon at some point and she had't told them about ranach yet? like girl what were you waiting on. this entire convo was long overdue and kique rushed it so fast and swept it under the rug to get it over with, it's so poorly executed. fucking vandi, kargo and ferah could 100% vouch for her explanation on why he's so terrible. cause no rogio doesn't count, he enabled his actions and did stuff for him. he's just as bad and their relationship wasn't toxic unless proved. I wouldn't trust rogio as my damn uncle as far as I can throw him. again fuck that guy lol. but anyways, vandi is technically their grandmother now, this entire convo should of at least been a decent amount of pages maybe 4 at most instead of just saying "oh he killed people" like he did way more then "kill" he raped and should have an eye awakening of the past tribe living and how he manipulated their own mother. naeva's reaction is bit bratty when I first read this page, and honestly I thought she was stupid. as she rather listen to her own morals then her mothers over a father she never met, it doesn't matter as he has never been around in their lives for her to give a shit about him. also how is naeva gonna know its her father? does her mother have a fucking picture of him somewhere? she never stated his color or anything specific about his character appearance. since these dogs are apparently clearly aware of color and markings. though in a small degree, i kinda agree how she is reacting? she's still being a bit of a bitch honestly. but because her own mother refused to give her a detailed explanation and have her daughters truly understand why he's a "big threat". i feel like she could of easily said their father died or something if it mattered that much to her that she doesn't want her daughters to truly end up seeking him. I just feel, now that we might have this anti child turning evil motive that doesn't really make sense? there's really no real reason for them to switch sides and betray their mother if that's a possibility other than to just appease ranach since he can manipulate thats about it. it'll just be for dramatic useless tension. anyways... so instead of ronja being a parent and not going after her own daughter to try and talk some sense into her as this is a vulnerable topic for both of them now. instead we get the worst and dumbest transition in the next page. its night time now and what does ronja do? well instead of again reaching out to her daughter. deer dog pops up into her tent and well they basically have sex. we are once given the cycle that sex cures everything and holy shit i don't know how she can be in the mood for that. like omg just talk about your problems for once without fucking each other. also idk what deer dog means by "tender soul" my dude you barely been around her kids, every-time you were on screen you were either by ronja or standing in the background. I doubt you know what her daughter is like and just exactly know how she'd react. but honestly if naeva sneaks off or goes searching for her father. gotta say it's ronja's fault at that point cause she didn't give a care enough about her own daughters safety and rather get bonded. also off topic kinda, but I keep seeing people claim that naeva as the "black pup" is it just me? I don't see her as black in color, unless my eye sight is really bad and I dont know it. but I honestly have been confused by it. I'd consider her dark toned comapared to her sisters. but not black color wise.

[gremloblin]

Yellowjackets is like. The unbearable weight of girlhood. The inescapable truth of who you are when you’re seventeen. I am still seventeen, because how could I have possibly gotten older when I lived the most I’ve ever lived at seventeen. I have not changed but I have grown. I have not grown but I’ve changed. I am exactly where I was before it happened because its all I know. Because maybe if I stay where it was before it happened then I can’t pretend it won’t have happened. “I want it back, the minds we had, how all the thoughts moved round our heads. It’s not enough to feel the lack I want it back.” Being known is the most horrifying thing. You’ve seen my soul so I need you as far away from me as possible. You’ve seen my soul so I can never get away from you. The end is so close and yet is never in sight. Until it is. But not for us, it never ends for us. I regret everything I ever did. I was right though. “It wasn’t your fault” “I know” “what the fuck are you talking about of course it was your fault. We were kids though.” The absence of you fills this space and suffocates me. Things could have been so different. It was always gonna be like this. I changed to live and you didn’t and died but I’m worse off. “He may have been the first one to die but I’m the one who paid for it. I survived but I paid for it.” Please love me like I love you. If you don’t love me like I love you I’ll make us both hate me. Then we’ll have something in common. I love you so bad I need to take everything from you. But now I have all your stuff and I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t even like you. I love you though. “You are sick. And you’re married. And you might be dying. But you’re holding me like water in your hands.” If I can’t have you I’ll be you instead. You see the best in me and I hate you because I see the worst in me. We are inextricably tied together but I am gnawing at the rope like a dog. I’d rather kill myself than be without you. I’d rather kill both of us than most things. “If I can’t be the love of your life I’ll be the loss of your life instead.”

[starrenati]

The end of december is the worst part of year, nothing is going to change my mind, but at least I can write chapters under pretty lights instead of just with the light of my laptop screen.

Chapter XVIII

"Amplify"

He walked through the vast space of nothingness. Silver boots clinking over a floor that wasn’t really there. Three pairs of black wings folded behind his back, resembling a fluffy cape of his majestic coat. He was humming a melody to himself, the spear laying in his hand just in case some lost Rifthound would try its power against him. It was rare but puppies tended to be a bit against all the rules that were already established. He sat down on the throne, his wings falling to their places, looking almost like a part of this beautiful structure. With hand resting against his folded hand, feeling the cold of his metal talons underneath his skin, he sighed, looking into the vast darkness. 

The plan went wrong. Very wrong even, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he’ll be able to cover it all up from Him. Vision of getting his wings torn off wasn’t exactly a pleasant one, and that’s what was in store for him, for creating life that wasn’t meant to be created. Even more with using human as a vessel.  To cover up even better, to make it look like an accident, like it was never meant to end like this, but now he was here, worrying over something that should’ve died a long time ago. Maybe the resilience was way better than he anticipated at first. Yes, his fault, he was meant to kill it soon after its first breath? Why? It was faulty to begin with. Weak, failed in many fields, just… Just a failed product. But he couldn’t bring himself to do so, something stopped him, and now he was left with a huge problem roaming the earth. Well, not anymore, but the point still stands. 

He raised his spear sharply, in seconds after hearing a sound by his ear. He looked to the side, eyes on the middle part of smaller wings squinting due to the sharp light. Good that his veil was still in place, and he didn’t have to look at her through his real eyes. Terrible sight anyway. 

“Isna. What do you want?” 

“I just came down to check on you, Iaoth. Don’t be so grumpy. What bites you so hard? I can barely force the sun to shine over some universes that are closer to you.” 

“Nothing. Go away before I decapitate you.” 

He barked back. Nothing like a sister's visit, but that was actually the way worse option. So bright and colorful, like a rainbow puked all over her body. Always so damn happy, and without her Veil, staring back at him with sickeningly pink eyes. His complete opposite, and probably the worst enemy already. If only he could rip her wings away and get rid of her in place of for example, Perceiver. Oh he missed his brother dearly, that much was without a doubt, but there are always consequences of the actions you take on. Unfortunately. 

“Oh come on, speak. Is it about your little one? Weren’t you meant to kill it? He is not going to be happy about it.” 

“Shut it and go away. You really can’t tell when you’re not welcome anymore, huh?” 

He got up, his feathers ruffled, eyes on smaller wings open and filled with anger. Sure, he made a mistake, but it’s been going on for years already, why bother about it now? If anything, for sure He already knew, which could mean He was either waiting for the right time to start the eternal punishment, or there was something going much deeper than that. Iaoth was afraid of the second option even more than about the first one. Punishment was something expected, something he took into account in case it would happen, but the other option? Not really. What could He want from this failed child? From an embodiment of mistake? There was barely anything to offer, yet, maybe just like the child of Void, He saw her power and wanted it for him? Though it would probably kill the little one in the process. 

“So what do you plan to do now? Just wing it and hope for the best?” 

“For now everything is fine. Don’t you have some important matters to attend to?”

He squeezed the spear harder in his hand, an obsidian blade gleaming in the faint light of Isna’s hair. She just nodded her head, disappearing into nothingness once more, finally taking the hint. Once more he was enveloped by well known darkness and the rush of thoughts in his mind. 

Hunger. Hungry. Starving. HUNGRY! Alice massaged her temples trying to understand what she was hungry for. It wasn’t regular food. Maybe it wasn’t the most delicious breakfast that she just ate, but it was something, and a lot even, making her nauseous right now, and heavy. Overall not really that fun of an experience. Yet there was that lingering hunger, biting at her from every part of her body, making it almost unbearable to sit in one place without growling at any movement around her. Literally growling. Like some mad dog. 

“Can you stop? You’re getting loud again and it’s annoying.” Cassandra spoke from over her tea cup. 

“Shut up.” Alice growled back at her, her red eyes immediately snapping towards the other woman. 

Cassandra frowned hearing that. Oh definitely that girl was pulling her strings lately and that was just pure disrespect right now. Yet, she kept calm, setting her teacup down and tilting her head to the side with a mocking smile, before starting to speak. 

“What? Are you going crazy? You don’t like the Void after all?” She said with an overly sweet voice, wanting to toy with her a bit. Seeing the anger only rises. “Or do you want to take over and rule? Sweetheart, I thought we already established who is in charge here. I can kill you with a flick of my fingers so maybe tone it down, hm? Or should I make you obey?” 

By the end of the sentence her sweet tone slowly shifted through anger to another clear mock, but this one came with a warning. Alice still glared at her, after a moment turning her head away, looking at the wall, instead of at Nova, knowing damn well that pissing her off is a terrible idea. As much as Alice adored her powers, they were useless against Nova, sure, a sharp headache is an inconvenience, hallucinations as well, but it would go against another, stronger, telepath, probably pushed away in seconds. 

“I thought so.”  Cassandra said, taking another sip of her tea. 

She was watching Alice from the very morning, at first trying to hide her observations, but now she was just sitting there, staring at the red haired girl, trying to grasp what was going on with her. Just yesterday everything was fine, she was acting almost obnoxiously happy by the evening, and now she was ready to tear apart anyone who gets too close. Like a trapped animal. This wasn’t normal and almost felt like Alice was in some sort of pain, that was too hard to explain. 

As the time passed, Cassandra was really second guessing the agreement. Catching herself thinking that she should’ve killed the girl when she had the chance. Sure, she could’ve been useful if only she’d use her powers at all. Now she was only sitting there, being consumed by them. And if Alice was able to enter Oblivion’s realm, then it meant that there was much more to discover, than just simple telepathy, but it was locked under all that heavy fear. She really didn’t need yet another scaredy cat. She needed someone capable of finding an exit for her, a way to accomplish her plan, not another burden. 

“You plan to speak or you’ll just bark at me all day? I remind you that you’re in my home, so behave, or I’ll put you on leash by the gate so you’ll scare off any unwanted guests” 

“Asshole.” Alice muttered in reply, her eyes still burning holes in the wall. 

The silence for some reason felt suffocating. Usually it wasn’t much, just hanging in the air, but not really that much bothering, but right now, it was just terrible. The worst in the entire world honestly. Suffocating, angry, like a bonfire smoke. And there seemed to be no way to stop it for now, as it only grew stronger and more pronounced over time. 

“I need your help.”  Alice suddenly spoke, her eyes falling on Cassandra again. “I need you to amplify my powers. Whatever they are. You need to get in my head and unlock them, tear them from there and make me feel them. I’ll go mad if it won’t happen anytime soon. They’re biting their way out of my body, piece by piece, tearing my flesh, I can feel the fangs bury deep into my muscles and draw blood…” 

Now, that certainly was an image that Cassandra didn’t want to see in her mind at all. It was disgusting and very graphic, but at least that explained the anger with which Alice burned so bright today. Nova just sighed, getting up from her place. 

“And how am I supposed to know you're not just bluffing? And that it’s going to work? Hm?” 

She had her doubts. Sure, she saw Alice go loose with her power after she got drunk, but that case seemed different. Like she really needed to go through all the stages with her powers, to be sated, like some kind of weird beast. 

“Fucking help me. All you do is talk and wallow, you know how annoying it is to read your mind? Like I’m going through some angsty story written by a teen after her first break up.”  Alice growled again. 

She didn’t want to be like that, she really didn’t mean any of those words. It was like something poisoned her, something seeped to her body and made her progressively more angry and hungry for the filling of power. Of her own powers and capabilities. The words were falling from her tongue faster than she could even grasp them in her own mind. 

Cassandra felt the rage raise up in her chest as well, her whole body feeling like it got covered in lava. She quickly walked over to the other girl, grasping her by the back of her neck and slamming her on the table, not caring for the possible damage. Only hearing a grunt of pain in response, feeling the muscles under her fingers slowly relax. 

“Speak like that to me just a word more and I’ll make you beg for death. I was treating you nicely up until now, but believe me, I can snap your neck just fine right now, in a way that will leave you in pain and unable to move while I’ll make you into my personal punch bag.” 

Cassandra wasn’t joking. She was burning with rage, holding back only because Alice could be useful, yet she was tempted to rely just on her own powers right now, instead of relying on her. It seemed like a waste of time, more and more honestly. The muscles under her fingers relaxed entirely, Alice glancing at her from under her faded red bangs. 

“Then help me… Please.” 

This was much softer, almost throwing Nova off. Like this time it was really Alice speaking and not whatever it was before. She took a deep breath, slowly letting go off the other girl's neck. 

“Fine. Get up. We won’t be doing that here. I’m not going to scrub you off of my walls if you explode, it’s enough that red looks ridiculous on you, I don’t need more of it.” 

She spoke with a scoff, fixing her coat, and putting her hands in pockets, still ready to use them at any given time. Just in case someone will decide to try and assassinate her. 

Alice slowly got up from the chair, massaging her chin. That will definitely leave a mark, but all her teeth were fine, so it was all good. Almost. Could’ve been worse, so at least she should be happy that it’ll end with just a bruise. She followed Cassandra outside, feeling that weird type of excitement overflow her body once more. Like something she was waiting for way too long will finally happen. But she remained silent, just going after Nova, trying to contain all those weird thoughts and feelings she had in her mind right now. 

They stopped in the middle of something that looked like a lake, but the water barely reached her ankles there. It was cold, and very unpleasant. But she stayed silent, standing close to Cassandra. 

“So what exactly do you want me to do?”

“Get in my head, force it all out. I can’t do that myself because I’m scared and need someone to force it. Amplify the powers, and lower my defence.” 

“Mhm.”

Nova definitely sounded displeased by that idea, but if that will shut up this brat and make her act normal, then sure. She was ready to use her powers for a little bit. It can’t be that hard, right? She stepped closer to Alice, her fingertips starting at the base of her skull, moving towards the temples, with a cold feeling spreading through her body because of that. Alice shuddered again, closing her eyes for a moment, feeling as the world around started to fall apart. Following Alice’s behavior, Nova also closed her eyes, focused on trying to find the place her powers were hiding at and dragged them out. 

Alice’s breath quickened over time, it felt overwhelming, burning, so many voices in her head all out of a sudden. For a moment she really considered forcing Cassandra to actually stop, but that weird hunger was going away, so why would she do that? She just tried to push through it, not feeling much physical changes, at least for now. 

On the other hand, Cassandra could’ve sworn whatever that was, was eating up all her energy, forcing her to stay connected. Both her and Alice could see the same carousel of lights. But Cassandra could also see many eyes staring back at her with anger, peering right into her soul. Mixed whispers filling the air and her mind, overwhelming her as well, burning into her, biting at her. She felt herself go weak, she could feel the nosebleed that started, the blood dripping over her lips, but she couldn’t pull herself away. She was trapped and for the first time in years, actually terrified. For a moment, just before the darkness swallowed her, she could see  something both incredible and terrifying. A creature with gigantic wings and a halo on its neck, staring back at her with sharp teeth in a crescent smile. After that, everything went dark. 

Alice could sense Cassandra’s influence grow weaker. She managed to open her eyes in time and catch Nova, before she had ended up on the ground, the sudden movement forcing Alice onto her knees, with Cassandra in her arms. 

“Cassandra? Come on. It’s not funny. For fucks sake. Nova!” 

Alice shook her a bit, seeing no response she began to panic. Oh no, what has she done? She quickly checked for breath and heartbeat, feeling a bit more at ease when she could feel them. Faint, but they were there, slowly going back to normal, but Cassandra was still very much out of it and unresponsive. Solace didn’t know what to do, looking around for any lively soul but there was no one and nothing, she just pulled Cassandra closer, very grateful for the cold water now covering most of her legs, keeping her grounded to here. If she’d panic, that would be even worse. 

“Come on… You’re not the weak one here.” 

She muttered again, trying to wake Cassandra up. Oh gosh this was both embarrassing and scary. She knocked out the ruler of the Void by a freaking accident. The hunger was gone entirely, but she couldn’t care less about it for now. She slowly got up, using some of her telekinesis to make moving Cassandra a bit easier, carrying her in her arms and walking back towards the main base. It took her a while to get there but eventually she was inside, laying Nova on the bed, she took off her coat that was all wet anyway. No use of cold water trapped in fabric right now. 

She made a cold compress anyway, sitting down on the bed, once again making sure that the other woman was breathing and fine, placing it on her forehead, before getting off from the bed again, to take off Cassandra's heavy boots. They were wet as well, and heavy to even lift, so no need to push a tired body over its limits as well. She set them aside, pulling Nova more onto the bed, making a safe nest of pillows and blankets to prop her on her side, leaving a room for breathing as well. She sat down nearby, cracking her fingers, hoping that Nova would wake up soon, biting her lips in fear and stress. She didn’t mean to. Obviously. She hoped it’ll work just fine. Besides, Cassandra can regenerate just fine, very quickly, right? So it all should be fine. 

When Cassandra wasn’t waking up for a while, but her breathing started to sound like she was just asleep, Alice moved a bit closer, after a moment of hesitation taking a peek into her mind. She sure was dreaming, for now it was just a regular dream. Not good, not bad, just plain and simple, but Alice could sense  some nightmares trying to get through, to attack her mind. So she did all she could to stop them, to drive them away, to get some more of that peaceful dreaming for the other woman. After that, she just sat there, after a while, starting to absentmindedly stroke Cassandra’s shoulder and back of her neck in a soothing motion. She was just sitting there and staring at the wall, her back against the headboard of the makeshift bed, her eyes slowly drifting close. She was exhausted, letting herself fall asleep. 

Cassandra woke up later, feeling weird and a bit dizzy. Even more weirded out, when she noticed Alice’s hand on herself, the “nest” and sleeping girl right by her side. 

[mikobeautifulheart]

5 stages of grief, 1 Denial

Megumi x reader but kinda turns into a Yuji x reader tho.

TW: Mentions of death, phycological damage and terrible editing.

Synopsis- After you lose Megumi you seem to see him everywhere when deep down you know he's not.

"No-" you whispered. You knew Sukuna taking over Megumi's body was his death sentence and there was nothing you could do about it.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I don't know how this happened I should have-"

"I-its okay Yuji, it wasn't your fault." Your voice quivering slightly as you felt tears prick the corners of your eyes.

"I. I'm sorry." He said turning away from you.

Yuji remembers going to jujutsu high for the first time, meeting Nobora and you.

He remembered the mission that nearly killed all four of you. Maybe most importantly, he remembered Megumi asking him to look after you if he died.

All Megumi had or cared about was you.

Yuji turned around to see you frozen, tears slowly streaming down your face.

***

"Don't ever die before me" Megumi said playing with your hair.

"Why would you even think about that now, Megumi?" You asked sitting up to look at him in his eyes.

"I have a feeling-Something bad is going to happen soon, when it dose don't put yourself out there if you know you could die" He said, not meeting your eyes.

"Megumi, that's what we are, were sorcerers, we wouldn't be if we weren't risking our lives. " You said cupping his face with one of your hands.

"And if it dose ever come to it. I would die for you." You said with all seriousness.

Finally he looked at you.

"I hope my feelings are wrong." He said before dragging you down into the bed with him.

***

"No...No, he's not dead. Megumi was just here with me, he can't be dead." You watched as you saw Megumi's body fall to the floor.

Gojo did it, he killed Sukuna but he also killed Megumi.

"It's all just a bad dream, Yuji" You said grabbing his hand tightly as he stood next to you.

"We'll wake up and Nobora will yell at us for being late and...and Megumi! Yeah Megumi will be grumpy because of her dragging all of us around the shopping mall" You said looking at Yuji hopefully as he gulped.

"And Nobora will run out of money and use Gojo's card and then Megumi will lecture her, they'll be alright Yuji, they'll be alive. Right?" You said starting to lose control of emotions.

"No Y/N, I wish but...Their dead." Yuji said.

You watched as Yuji started to cry, still staring at Megumi's body.

***

"Y/N, where did you leave my shirt?" Megumi asked from the bedroom.

"Probably in the wash." You replied finishing up the dishes.

"Are you telling me I have no shirts?" He asked sticking his head out of the door way.

You turned around. "Is that such a bad thing?" You asked with a smirk. "You don't have anymore missions and class is over- I just don't see why your so bothered about missing shirts."

"Did you hid them!?" He asked standing behind you, cornering you between him and the counter.

"I would never!" You faked a gasp as you felt his bare chest against your back.

"Y/N? Who are you talking to?" Yuji asked walking into your dorm.

"Oh, its just Megumi" You looked up at Megumi as he just stood still, like he was stuck.

"Y/N...Megumi's dead..." Yuji said.

"Ha...Funny Yuji He can't be dead if he's standing right behind me right now and talking to m-" You looked up again but there was no Megumi.

"Megumi?" You blinked in confusion before you turned the tap off and looked around your dorm.

"Megumi?" You half shouted while opening room doors looking for any sign of Megumi.

"MEGUMI WHERE ARE YOU?" You started to panic. He was just behind you, how could he have disappeared?

You felt a sharp jolt as Yuji grabbed your shoulders, making you stop and look at him.

"Y/N Megumi has been dead for 3 months! You know this! You held onto his cold body Y/N, Megumi's dead!" Yuji said looking right into your shocked face.

"What...? No, Megumi was just looking for his shirts I hid under the bed, look." You went into the bed room and pulled the blanket up, seeing that all his shirts had disappeared to.

"Y/N you need to stop this, he is dead, he can't come back." Yuji said as you sat on the bed looking blankly at the wall.

"But...I felt him."

***

"Oh, Gojo sensei, Megumi said he would be late today." You said suddenly remembering what Megumi told you this morning after you left the dorms.

Gojo froze.

"What did you say Y/N?" Gojo asked calmly.

"Megumi said he was going to be late because he's visiting his sister in hospital this morning." You responded.

"Oh I see." Gojo said before he continued on out of the room silently.

You heard a convocation outside the class room.

"Sensei, she just can't process it. It's to much for her right now" Yuji said.

"How long will she keep talking bout him like he's alive? For god's sake he's been dead for 5 months! I don't know how much longer I can keep being reminded of Megumi's death." Gojo responded, his voice getting weaker.

"Megumi's not dead, he's late." You said opening the door.

Both Gojo and Yuji pause and look at you with sorrow.

"Y/N, Megumi's dead." Gojo said.

***

"You remember that ring I gave you?" Megumi asked, his head resting on your chest.

"Yes." You responded sleepily, watching the fan spin above your heads.

"You should just get rid of it." He said.

"Why would you even say that?" You asked getting nervous.

"Well you don't need it anymore, its worthless." He said resting his weight on his side, facing your distraught face.

"What do you mean Megumi? Are you breaking your promise?" You said feeling anxiety over run your body.

"No, well not that one. It's just I have to leave for a long time." He said.

"How long?"

"Maybe forever. It will be along time but i'll see you again someday." He said taking your left hand and slipping the ring he gave you off your hand.

"What? Wait Megumi, I don't understand" You said sitting up.

"Where are you going?"

"Some where you can't go. Look Y/N when I go you can't follow me okay? I'll be gone for a while so i've asked Yuji to look after you in the mean time, he's a nice guy, he'll help you out" Megumi said getting up from your bed.

"No, I don't want Yuji, I want you Megumi, you." You said now confused entierly.

"I have to leave now Y/N, I hope you find your happiness and remember" He paused as the room fell silent completly.

"I love you." He said pressing a kiss to the top of your head before walking out of the bedroom and out the dorms door.

You felt frozen, you were fighting against nothing.

"WAIT MEGUMI, DON'T LEAVE ME!" You screamed seemingly breaking out of the imaginary grip holding you back.

"MEGUMI" You screamed as you saw him walk down the dorm halls and reach the front door. Not once did he look back or wave.

You tried sprinting toward him, trying to make him stay but you felt someone wrap their arms around you from behind.

"LET GO OF ME, MEGUMI DON'T GO" you struggled harder against the person as Megumi finally closed the door behind him.

"MEGUMIIII" You screamed while feeling your body fall to the ground.

"no...no...no, come back" You whispered before blacking out of exhaustion.

"y/n..." Yuji mumbled as you stopped struggling and watched as your eyelids fluttered closed in his arms.

"Good bey...Megumi." Yuji said as he saw the door slowly creek closed.

You never saw Megumi or that ring ever again.

"I love you too." you mumbled through your exhaustion.

"I love you Megumi."

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: Totally didn't cry a little while writing this. ANYWAYS this is apart of a series but part 2 is about the second stage of grief, anger, and its about Suguru Geto. So if your interested in that it will be on my master list. Have a good whatever time. Reblogs welcomed