#so when they show real devastation it's like the sun being cracked open and flames spilling out everywhere

[bawnjourno]

ha ha what the fuck

i’m gonna eat and walk on the track and then i’m watching the dan’s operation ep for the first time how tf we feeling night court nation

[withoneheadlight]

life has been a bit crazy for me so I haven’t been around but I’m glad to see that the upside down kiss fic is circulating back around bc it lives rent free in my mind constantly and I am whORE KNEE 😩

nsfw! anon

(I hope you’ve seen well I miss u :((( )

NSFW!ANON I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU I MISS YOUUUUUU!!!!! Holy shit this is the nicest surprise!!!!!! 💖💖💖🌟💖🌟💖🌟💖🌟💖 Wish your life were at least a bit less crazy :(. Mine's been a bit crazy too. Weird and busy. Haven't been letting me much time for fandom and i miss it so, SO FUCKING much. 

And <3<3<3, haha yep! i’ve got a soft spot for that fic too bc i had so much fun writing it, and it’s even funnier on my mind idk xD. i’m so happy people likes it. Those gifs are like a harringrove inspiration charm i swear! Maybe you’ve already seen it but @warheadache added this amazing ar to it and 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉.

also!! i know it doesn’t look like it but i’ve got a couple things for you on the works and i’m closer to finish them!! at my snail pace but yk, 

a few excerpts bc i want to give them to you so baaaaaadddDDDDDD:

(I'm sure you'll recognize the working titles :P)

| n s f w ahead |

~

| boots |

And it’s been more than three years. More than three years of holes on his body and holes on his veins and stitches and tubes and pills and pain under every scar and unsteady steps and pulling together a pile of dirty rubble. More than one of Steve, Steve, Steve. Of coming back in busts and flickers. Enough gasoline left to light a spark. Too empty still to start a fire.

Except―

He’s going through his old stuff, one day. Cold outside. Late January. Chill fogging the windows. Daylight pouring to the edges of the sky like red-hot steel on the other side.

Billy’s on the floor. The contents of the two plastic bags collecting dust at the bottom of his closet since he moved in here now scattered all around. Cassettes and crumpled papers and tampered books and stupid memorabilia and. His old tight jeans. His leather jackets. His light-blue denim one, with the blood-red goodbye kiss of somebody whose cheek he remembers touching, whose face he can’t remember anymore.

And Billy doesn’t hear him coming, but one moment he’s not, the next Steve’s crouching by his side, leaning against him, too lightly for it to be in need of balance.

“God, Hargrove” he huffs, picks Billy’s favorite shirt out of the pile “Am I remembering this one right?”

Billy bites in a smile. Swallows down some bitterness.

“You are”

Steve nods, mouth twisting into a grin, a brow rising. Glances down at what Billy’s holding (on to) between his hands.

“And oooh. Those boots”

Still dirty. More dark brownish than black. One of the few things he got back from the hospital. His pendant being the only one he ever put back on.

“Yeah”

“Thinking ‘bout using any of these again?” Steve gives the shirt a light shake, the dark-red fabric dragging on the wooden floor.

Last time Billy wore it, he burned hole in it. A stray ember fell from his joint, right under the left pocket. Tiny enough to pass mostly unseen but―

For a closer look, it was ruined.

Two days later, the Mind-Flyer dragged him into the basement of Brimborn Steel Works.

Billy digs his fingers into the dry leather before they can start shaking.

“I don’t―” Takes in a big gulp of air “―know. Don’t know if they’ll fit anymore” It feels like nothing.

Because, he doesn’t mean only his body. Means it all. Because he’s alivealivealive, like some kind of inevitability. Alive like a form of inertia.

Alive because that’s all he had left. Got’s left. The only thing he could. Can. Do.

But,

But

“Uhmm” Steve exhales. Looks right into his eyes and it feels like he’s looking deeper. And it’s not the first time, not the first time Billy wonders, how much he knows, and how he knows it. Wonders what he might be seeing, what his instinct might be saying for him to―lower down his voice, eat away almost every single one of the scarce millimeters keeping their mouths from touching “Maybe the boots, then” his hair tickling Billy as it falls over his forehead, the feeling of it so intimate it seems illicit “Only, the boots”.

And those words. Those words. Taste like gasoline on Billy’s mouth, make the flame almost catch. Hot. As they feel over the rabbiting pulse of his jugular. Ad there shouldn’t be any empty space left between them when Steve moves even closer, his lips brushing a path of raw tenderness over Billy’s cheek, trailing sideways, air turning flammable and unstable, unbreathable when he says, “You’d look―” Voice hoarse. Shaky. Breath warm down the curve of Billy’s neck. Fingertips burning as a branding mark over his solar plexus “Hot as fuck”

Trading a grenade for Billy’s fast-beating heart.

And then― he’s getting up. Going away. Closing the door behind him. Leaving Billy one pull away from the detonation.

And Billy.

It’s been more than year since he moved. More than a year of SteveSteveSteve. Of coming back in busts and flickers. Enough gasoline left to light a spark. Too empty still to start a fire.

But Billy wants it, this kind of inevitability. Not inertia. No survival. Not that something living doesn’t really feels like. He wants Steve to release that bomb he just dropped inside of his body. Left Billy unmade. Shape him back together with his own two hands.

So he gets up. Wired-up and breathless. Anticipation beading on the surface of his skin. Thinks about of all those times alive felt like something reachable. That almost-touch sensation. Static singing on his fingertips: loving arms closing around his ocean-cold skin. The rumbling of the sea caught up on the shell of his ribcage. Max's crazy laugh like a hammer to his bones. The Camaro cooking the soles of his feet, speed making his head spin through a wormhole and out into the infinite. His knuckles cracking against the skin of another, finding bone. The metallic tang of blood flooding down the back of his tongue.

Love and fire and rage and―

He takes all his clothes off. They don’t feel like they fit, either. Socks. Sweats. Hoodie. T-Shirt. Takes a deep breath when the pendant bumps against the naked skin of his chest.

Puts his boots on.

Does the only thing he’s ever known.

“Steve!” he shouts. Pulse spiking up fast. Trying to beat a way out of his body “Can you come back in here?”

Skyrocketing, when Steve shouts back.

“Going!”

And then is the door clicking open. Billy’s lungs freezing in the middle of a breath. Steve’s eyes looking almost black as they catch the shadows. Sun falling down the reality of the other side.

And in a darkness like that, it’s only them what remains. Them, and the way they are looking at each other.

And Billy feels alive. Like falling. Feet slippin’ on the razor’s edge.

"Billy" breathes out Steve. Shoulder perched on the frame. Fingers tightening around the handle "Fuck, Billy I―"

“Yeah?”

Alive. Like a form of gravity when―

Steve comes forward. To him. Careful. Careful. Footsteps creaking on the wooden floor. Lashes falling down as his eyes drift. Swallows. Comes closer and closer still.

And then.

Their chest are brushing and their hands are almost touching and it's not even an inch but Billy has to look up even with his stupid boots on and,

“You said―”

Steve breathes in. Cuts Billy’s breath off his lungs.

Between them, there’s no room for anything that’s not the way they’re not touching.

“I know what I said”

The air, sparks, sizzles, becomes the memory of a thunderstorm and. The tips of Steve’s fingers make his hairs stand on end. High voltage. Spark over the inside of his wrist. The faded blue of his veins. And Billy shivers. Feels like that second of stasis before the rupture. Static calm and then― the ocean breaks.

And then Steve says,

“I wanna see it. That fire in you” and his fingers tickle across the hidden tenderness on the inside Billy’s elbow. Nails grazing their way up to his shoulder, detouring to contour the crest of his clavicle, slide down the trough, spreading as they follow the shape of Billy’s neck, thumb fitting into the corner of his lips and “C’mon.” smiling, smiling. Eyes creasing at the sides, lashes catching the few last strings of light. Wicked and sweet and devastating “Show me who’s that Billy Hargrove everybody's been telling me so much about”

~

| stick | tw: object insertion |

It’s thrilling, this secret, depraved game they play. Feels like it's forbidden. Leaves a sweet, honey-thick aftertaste.

And Billy is so. So curious. Can’t stop asking Steve to tell him “How it feels babe. I want to know how good it feels. God you look like it's hitting you just right” and Steve tells him. Steve fucks himself down into whatever thing Billy is holding for him, never touching himself until he’s almost there, wanting to ride that sole sensation right up until the very end. Shivering. Shaking. Breaking a sweat. The words coming ragged out of his open mouth. “Cold” or “Weird” or “Like. Too much–ah. Too much” and “Soft, God, Billy so soft” and–

“Why don’t you try it yourself?”

And Billy its so, so curious.

Billy does.

Rails himself for Steve to watch, slicked up with lube and dripping. With a rolling pin. A cucumber. Almost a whole box of wooden colored pencils, stuffed inside his ass one by one. With “ohgodgodgod”  the handle of Steve’s fucking nailed bat. Lets Steve holds whatever thing he chooses for him “C’mon, babe. C’mon. Treat it good. Swallow it as deep as you can. Take it like you would take my cock”

And life in Hawkins gets boring after the first, second, fourth, seventh yearly round. Steve takes that office work. Billy gets a permanent spot in the garage. If he gets real lucky, somebody takes him an interesting car from time to time. But sometimes Steve looks at Billy with dark, liquid eyes. Says “Ok enough”. His voice harsh. Rasped. Losing balance at the edge of what he’s able to restrain himself. Sounding as if he’s jealous of those things jamming the insides if Billy’s ass. Takes out Billy’s been writhing around. Fucks him hard. Fuck him deep. Fucks him so good there are tears in Billy’s eyes by the time he comes. Fallen apart and sobbing.

&

Steve’s driving. One hand on the wheel. One hand on the shift. The cool air of the night coming in shorts through the rolled-down window. On the radio, Ted Nugent’s making his guitar whine, the strings arching into the touch of his fingertips, asking for more more more, ‘Here I come again now baby. Like a dog in heat’

Steve’s long fingers flex over the knob, winter-cold white under reddened knuckles. He shifts from third to fourth with a smooth press and lets go of the clutch, and the Camaro sighs, settles. Steve makes her calm. Steve tames her. Where Billy makes her growl and kick Steve drives her like a lover, whispers to her with all his body I’m gonna fuck you so slow. We got all night, baby. Steve treats her right. Runs those fingers up and down the metallic rod of the shift and Billy gets hard. One second from zero to sixty.

His cock pulses, pulses. Fills up whole. The sudden rush of heat traveling up, up. Presses against the walls of his throat. Billy wants to feel the head of Steve’s cock against his bell. Wants Steve to make him choke on him.

Steve brakes. Clutches. Reduces. The Camaro moans, needy. Steve soothes her, caresses it with a soft brush of his thumb along the speed patter Shh, baby sshhh. Just hold a little bit longer. I promise I will let you come.

Billy feels himself twitch, spit out precum. The inside of his pants feels damp, appetizing. He lets his hips slide, rock.

The knob is real leather. Silver pattern ingrained over black. Seams carefully sew out on the surface as a touch of style.

Billy replaced it a few months ago, the old one too damaged by use. Worn out.

This one curves slightly forward.

It would hit just right.

Steve's eyes are alight, framed in the light reflected from the rearview mirror, a dramatic take out of an old Noir.

Except the brown shines full color. Alive.

Billy puts his hand over Steve’s on the knob, spreads his fingers around his.

Grips him hard.

“Hey, babe. Have you ever thought about it?”

“Mmm? About what?”

“About riding my car”

Steve huffs. Chuckles.

“I am driving your car”

“Yeah” Billy caresses the side of Steve’s hand with his thumb, a lagged reflection of his gesture. Thinks about how pretty Steve’s lips would look around that leather, mouth open wide “Don’t mean it like that”

&

Billy has to take a deep, shaky breath, thinking it's a miracle they ever get as far as they plan, that Steve Harrington's mere existence doesn't make him come just by looking at him.

Not all their games get to the finish line. But this, God, Billy wants this one to.

"Ah-ah" he shakes his head, smirks, keeps the stakes high "But if you hop on I'll let you eat my mouth"

“Mmmm. I don’t know”

Steve twists his lips, considering, looks like he’s willing to take his sweet time deciding, staying just like this, idly rocking on his lap, keeping Billy hooked in this scarce feeling, this almost kissing between their cocks.

And Billy––Uff. Billy it’s too revved-up, can’t take it any fucking second more.

Grabs Steve’s asscheeks. Lifts him up.

“Billy what the—ohfuck” It doesn't go in. ‘Course it doesn’t. When Billy lets Steve’s weight drop just a slight bit. It bumps. Slips. Wet and obscene. Rips a breathless thing of a sound out of his throat. But then Steve’s arms wrap around his neck. Bracing himself so Billy can take a hold of it, line himself up. And then yeah yeah. He barely has to rub the head against Steve’s slippery hole and his cock slides in. Eaaasy. All the way. Into Steve’s warmth. Tight. Tight. Tight. And–

“Ohfuck. OhfuckOh”

The air coming in from the window is cool, bristling, but it feels like nothing when Steve lets out a chocked cry. Fucks himself. Fast. Rough. Face buried into the crook of Billy’s neck. Breath blooming hot, hot. Teeth on his pulse.

“Shhhh, baby, shhh” Billy takes his face between his hands, pushes him carefully backwards. Waits ‘till Steve’s eyes slowly find focus on his, still rocking, still― “Hey. You gotta stop. You hear me?” Steve takes a deep breath, exhales long and shaky. It takes all of him to slow down, Billy knows, but he does. Thighs twitching. Cock weeping. Smearing over Billy’s belly where his t-shit has hitched up.

Billy brushes his hair back from his forehead. Tangled and damp and gorgeous.

Kisses him light and sweet.

“We’re close, baby. We’re really, really close. But you gotta stop so I can open you up real good ok?”

Steve nods, eyes glossy, lips bitten and Billy feels overwhelmed, feels like burning under the hard sun. They’re both hanging by the thinnest of threads, Billy can feel it, can see it in the blown-out dark of Steve’s eyes. They’re riding pleasure at point break, time holding its breath for them. This is his favorite part of the game. A little too much, just a little too much. ‘Till one of them loses it. ‘Till one of them melts on the other’s hands. Hard and thick.

And God, Billy has never been one not to push his luck.

He takes two fingers up to Steve’s lips, runs the tips over the tender skin inside. Thinks about how they don’t look bitten enough, swollen enough. About how he’s gonna have to fix that.

“I’m gonna put these two inside. Will you get them ready for me?” Steve’s Smile twitches up, canines showing. It’s a two-men-con. But they play as much against the other as they play together. So Steve swallows both fingers. All the way in one go. Eyes falling shut. Eats them wet and messy. Deepthroats. Rumbles. Ass clenching, pulsing around Billy’s cock. And Billy is only a short breath of self-control away from spending himself inside him like a fucking rookie.

It’s boring, small-town life, really. Except–

“Good boy,” he says, making his fingers pop out of Steve’s mouth, satisfaction tastier than honey at the mean glare it grants him. But it softens, that glare, Steve’s eyelids flutter, open-mouthed and blissed, when Billy brushes the head of his cock with his knuckles, haft teasing, half relieving, keeping Steve in the tightrope with him.

“I’m getting a bit impatient in here, Hargrove” he says, only managing to make his voice sound half annoyed about it. Bit Billy is too, impatient. So drags his fingers down, pads tracing the taut shape of Steve’s cock, his balls, and down. Presses. Softly. Rubs the stretched-out flesh of his hole. Dips just the tips. Press. Press. And–

“AhfuckBilly–Ah.Mmmmh”

It’s tight. Steve’s ass clenches around him, squeezes him in. It’s a heady feeling, having him like this, senses overrunning. He’s intoxicated. High on the painful scratch of Steve’s nails when he grabs his jaw to kiss him open-mouthed and harsh. The helpless way he chokes off a sob when Billy makes his fingers curl, rubs him good and,

“I’m ready, Billy. I’m ready. BillyBillyplease. I can’t take it anymore. Please, baby. I’m ready” he’s gasping, breathless, barely taking in the heated up air they share.

“Hey. C’mon. C’mon. Just a little more, ok?. A little more and I’ll let you swallow it all in. That knob. All the way down your ass. No space left for anything else" he licks the words all along Steve’s neck, his ear. Rubs his lips over the damp roots of his hair. Cock pushing. Fingers working. When Steve sits on the stick. Billy wants him right over the edge “Gonna cum so hard you’re gonna be begging me to let you ride her again”

~

yup! hope you like them! i really really REALLY want to finish them for you.

Fingers crossed I get to see you again soon my dear nsfw!anon 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

[xesotericconundrumx]

Episode 100: The Woods

CONTENT WARNING: Suicide, Loneliness, Abandonment, Death

This is a story about an escape and a story about a girl. This is a story about desolation in loneliness. 

There is a back road highway. One road heads north and the other south; and it goes on for miles and miles.  And the highway like others is littered with billboards, and agendas far from holy. They scream out with words like “repent or find hell, confess and be saved, perish in the flames, god, he’ll get ya, he’s always watching.” They tower in a never ending sea of tall grass and road. It feels like they are the only thing to look at until they become less and less frequent. Suddenly those billboards are traded for houses hidden among rolling hills of green and gold. In the mornings the warm golden hue of the sun drenches the grass waves. The same sun blinds drivers as they move down those one way streets. The hills begin far off until suddenly they are surrounding the road. The rocks are jagged and looming with each curve of the road and they only seem to become more threatening when the sun sets. But during the day the sun illuminates driveways and houses, turns and white lines. Some houses are flat on the ground, surrounded by broken trees, and run down barns. Some houses sit on the edge of the hills, and seem as if they’re floating, but also as if one strong wind could collapse the foundation. Everyone is a neighbor, they all know each other and they know that there are things you simply avoid. Most do. The town keeps to itself, people drive through without a second thought, it’s so easy. Press on forward and its another town and other and other until the city skyline peeks over the once fascinating hills. But in that town everyone knows what to avoid. 

There is a  sign that reads “ROAD ENDS”. The white fence that was supposed to keep trespassers out did little more than offer a reminder that the property was private, other than that it was easy to jump the decrepit fence. The road was worn in, tire tracks were imprinted in the dirt, all the same. A curve as people turned confused by where the GPS was taking them. There were legends about what was just beyond the fence, the house that stood there, the land it was on. Some talked about a witch, some talked about families who never stayed more than a year because something wasn’t right. And some said it was simply abandoned. It was an easy way to scare children so they wouldn’t sneak out at night. It wasn’t the house that bothered many, it was what lay beyond. Nobody talked about what was beyond that house. Just past the fence and passed the house was the edge of untrailed land. Walk a little further and the trees became dense and light scarce. In the day time it wasn’t too ominous, you could see pretty far in. At dusk it was normal to see kids with false bravery lingering just around the house. But after dark everyone simply agreed that you just never walked near that property, that you never stepped beyond that fence, that you never entered the doorway or that you never let yourself get too close to those trees. Any sound that came from over there was nothing but a trick of the mind, an explained noise from the neighbors, the tv, the radio anything but that area. So when the neighbors watched her leave the house sobbing, watched as the door slammed shut behind her and watched as drove to the fence and get out they did their neighborly duties, albit half-heartedly.

 “It’s getting dark, should be heading home.” “Get out of here.” And then nothing. The silence was the worst. She looked behind her, and no one came to her, all alone and the sun slowly burning out. She should have left. But after everything that happened; the disappointment she turned out to be, the mess up, the angry little girl she was then, the broken woman she was now, childish fears were nothing against the unrelenting desolation of adult terror.  Looking up the sky was velvet blue, the stars soft and voyerstic. She blinked back more tears and felt a numbness wash over her. What did it matter anyways? Knowing her answer was far more devastating than she’d like to think about.  She climbed over the fence. The tall grass scratched against her legs and she waded in that sea of green until she passed the house, empty, another disappointment. She took in the abandoned house, the broken windows and the porach that looked like one step would have done it. It was just an old house. It was just abandoned. There wasn’t anything scary or haunted about it. The town was scared of something that didn’t exist and it was pointless in the grand scheme of it all. So she pressed on. Walking a little further she stopped at the edge of the woods. For one moment she looked behind her, that house looming in the background with nothing special about it. It still became a legend. For one small moment she thought about going back but she moved forward. It was stupid to walk in the woods alone and even worse to walk alone at night but part of her didn’t care. She wanted to rot among the trees, lay on the ground and simply sink into the cool, unremarkable dirt. Fingers brushed along the trunks of trees. She just kept walking. The air was utterly still, suffocating. Her boots pressed into the wet earth and she was sure that if she did indeed turn around her footprints would leave her back to the opening. The moon was high in the sky, her only light source in the woods and the only reason she saw the path.

There was a clearing, treaded out too evenly to be made by anything but people. Looking back for only a moment she made the small step forward to follow this new path. She walked for about a mile until she reached an end. Standing in the middle of the forest was a church. It was once white but the wood was chipped and gone in various places, sun faded and decaying.. The roof was brown and had a hole at the very top, rotting wood its defining feature. She approached with reckless footsteps and hesitant twitching fingers. Her faith was nonexistent but there was a calmness that immediately fell upon her. 

Growing up she was warned about sounds in the woods, not always being what they seemed. She was warned about staircases that went nowhere and she was warned about how your eyes would play tricks on you. But it was always empty churches that people begged you to never step foot in, something about the soullessness and the godless creatures that lived in them. She never believed in those stories, nor did she ever think it was something she would ever have to deal with. But those were stories to keep children out of the woods, out of places where they didn’t belong. She wasn’t scared of the woods, she wasn’t scared of the horrors that filled ghost stories. So she walked. As she approached the door the handle was the most intantact thing about the outside. Pulling the handle the door creaked open. The inside looked untouched, pews made of wood and the altar undisturbed. Looking at the bowls of water she noticed how still it was. Even with the soft wind now pushing her through the door the water remained heavy and unmoving. There was no reflection to see just murky water, unholy and unnerving. As she walked the floorboards moaned with agony, they filled the walls making the empty church loud. No matter how delicately she walked she could not escape that noise. Fingers danced along the pews, smooth and still glossy. Her eyes glanced around until they came upon a figure shrouded by shadow, mumbling prayers under their breath. Her brow furrowed, had they been there when she entered, was this church still in use? Confused. Rules of abandoned churches, the stories from so long ago ran through her head, something about not approaching a person praying but she didn’t care about those rules. They held no merit. She started walking but stopped. She felt a hand on the back of her neck, hot breath making arms shake. She wanted to turn around but every fiber in her being told her not to. Her heart started to race ever so slightly. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw something move, she blinked. It was nothing. Just her eyes playing tricks on her. Her hand touched her pocket, her lighter wouldn’t be much help but it would be something. However looking around she realized one wrong move and her small lighter could set the whole thing on fire. Focusing back on the front of the church the figure was gone. The sound of prayers replaced by the sound of an organ, soft and faint. The girl moved and sat down in one of the pews. Her eyes filled with tears, warm and filled with self pity they fell down her face. She reached up fingers brushing away the unexpected sadness. Reaching out for the hymnal she thought maybe the words would help her focus but she noticed the words were all wrong, she couldn’t figure out the language, just words on a page with no meaning to her. Knuckles cracking she moved her hands back to her lap. 

What was she doing here? Running away from her problems again. Again. It’s what she always did. Avoided her problems, but it was so much easier then having to deal with every single fear that resided in her. And what if those problems could go away? What if she could go away. Disappear into nothingness, fade slowly into a memory, rearrange into something that was more pleasant then the real thing. They would be so much happier that way, constructing her into what they wanted her to be. Her hands dropped to the pews clenching the edge shaking with possibility. Thoughts raced through her head. And then it hit her. Maybe she could abandon them. Finally people would stop leaving her and she could show them how it felt. HOw the feeling of loneliness slowly suffocated her. How every bit of her anger and sadness stemmed from those she trusted leaving her, they would know it. They would know how much it destroyed her and they would finally understand….

But…

No….

How could she

Could...No. 

“And why not?” Her head jerked up at the sound of a voice, soft and familiar. Now she was hearing voices, it must have been the wind, the trees rustling making a noise that sounded like words, of course that’s what it was. Their was no one here….

The figure. 

Looking up she half expected to see that figure again, but their was nothing. So her eyes were playing tricks on her and now she was hearing things. It was time to go. She didn’t want to stay out here really, she just needed to figure out her head. Moving out of the pew her head turned towards the sanctuary and she caught a glimpse of a figure again. Were they always there? Who was it. Walking over she was careful not to make noise as to not startle them. 

“You could do it.” 

The breath was knocked out of her and she stopped in her tracks. It was just in her head, that’s what it was. She was tired and distraught and that was all this was. 

“You could do it and then we’d be together again, you’d never have to be alone. I hate to see you this way.” The voice sounded like a memory, different parts of moments that were so long ago. “What?” She asked quietly. 

The voice sounded as if they smiled. “We’d be happy here. I’d be happy here with you. Wouldn’t you like that?” 

She was about to answer when another voice spoke up. “I would never leave you again, I can finally make that promise” 

“Come up to the sanctuary, if you come here it’ll all be better. The figure she saw earlier was now two, standing at that sanctuary, arms opening wide, hands beckoning her to move close and close. 

All would be better. Would it all be better? How could they promise that, these voices she was so sure were in her head. But were they? Would she really tell herself these things? She paused, her feet stuck to the ground unsure of her own thoughts. Her chest rose and fell with quicking breath as she tried to rationalize what was going on. All would be better, all would be better if she just went away wouldn’t it. How tempting. She hated that it felt like a good idea, hated that she was letting it cross her mind. But after everything maybe all she wanted was to close her eyes and let it all go. She stood there, hand trembling at her side, maybe it was a good idea. 

She looked up and brown eyes filled with unwanted tears and with quick blinks fell down dirty cheeks. Her lip quivered with the loss of words; everything she wanted to say stuck in her throat. She stood there in utter silence. The moon filled the room with a silver light and the softer of the two voices called out to her again. The voice was nearly serene like an ocean pulling against the sand, hypnotic and beckoning. With gentle footsteps she walked towards the shadow, the floorboard creaking under her footsteps. “Come with me.” the voice echoed around her, “You don’t have to worry about those feelings again. Not with me. If you just take my hand you won’t have to be alone and everything will be fine. We’ll just leave it all behind, no reason to let it weigh you down any longer. Remember how it was, it could be like that again.”  Her hand reached out and she nodded. Maybe she did want this. She wanted to forget it all, leave it behind her, leave them all behind her. 

“Up to the sanctuary you’re almost there. Don’t be nervous, it’s almost over. Look at me, nearly there. You don’t have to be scared. I will make sure it’s all better.” Even as the tears fell her lips turned into a small smile, she was filled with something else, her head danced with memories, happiness. It felt so real, so maybe it was. Maybe she just had to take these last steps and she’d leave it all behind. The floor creaked again as she moved closer. 

The tears started to fall quickly now, her face stained and shaking breath turned into heaving. She stopped. After everything, after she had been through, after all they had been through she was just going to abandon them like everyone else….Her head started to turn. But what if? What if she made it worse, what if she went to that sanctuary and she tainted everything. They would resent her even more. They would blame her and then it would be all the worse, wouldn’t it. She could maybe do something else…. Her thoughts were interrupted.

 “Don’t look back.” The voice almost snapped. She stumbled slightly. “Just keep coming this way. You’re almost there. Just a little bit more...” The soft whisper turned into something less than serene. Her hands dropped and she looked at the sanctuary, the moonlight shifting ever so slightly. Her head tilted. All the warmth from that moment suddenly left and she was standing in the cold, a rush of wind racing past her. Her eyes moved and caught sight of the rotting wood of the pews, was that always like that? The stained glass cracked, sharp edges of the colourful glass caked with something other than dirt. “Keep going.” The soft voice commanded. She turned towards the shadows, eyes widening with fear. “Don’t throw this away. It’s fine. It’s going to be fine, you’ll be happy again, you won’t have to worry about being outshined here. You’ll be the brightest, you’ll be loved. Don’t you want to be loved? Don't you want someone to always be there for you, don’t you want that, don’t you want to be more than this. Here you can be, here you can be my everything....” 

The shadows started to surround her and whatever she felt before was replaced with a cold feeling. She looked back up at the sanctuary, the moonlight revealing the decaying nightmare. The walls peeling and the carpets stained with blood. The altar that once stood in the middle was now a crumbling mess of forgotten prayers, unheard confessions, it was sinking into the ground, the weight of sins dragging it to hell slowly and cruelly. Shaking her head she took a step back “It’s almost over….”

“Don’t be scared….”

Come on. You can have what you want....”

“Stay here. Come with me.” Her steps became faster and she started to turn around and she heard a sigh which made her stop. “Don’t make us….” The voice was apathetic now all the love and warmth that had been so carefully constructed fell into the truth. “No.” She mumbled. And then there was a sigh, “Aright.” She turned quickly. “You really are the stupid one aren’t you.” 

Suddenly a hand gripped her throat and made her fall to her knees the creature squeezed slowly, fingers digging into her skin. She clawed against the arm, tears falling down her face as she tried to gasp for air but it was unrelenting. The other, the one who spoke so sweetly, loomed over as if it was waiting for it’s turn. “A disappointment. Down to your last breath you were never anything but disappointing.” Breaking from the grasp she inhaled as big a breath she could, coughing, gasping until one that loomed pushed her back down. Twisting on the floor she clawed against the rotting wood, begging to be let go of. “Why? Why did you have to look back?” The voice was exasperated.  Her own anguished pleads filled the chapel and yet it was like they heard nothing. “What are you talking about?” Please just let me go back.” 

The other made its way back to her, looming over her. All of her failures echoed, the sound filling the impossibly high ceilings. Every insecurity, every little thing made her feel broken. “What do you think is waiting for you back there? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. One by one they are going to find a reason to just leave. And you still want to endure that.” The creature reached down and stroked her hair, it was cold as if mimicking affection. “You really want to make them realize their mistakes. You know what to do. They’ll live with regret for the rest of their lives, they’ll wonder what they could have done to make it better, what they did wrong. And you can remind of each one of their transgressions, every single one, you never have to let them forget it. Come one. Why are you scared? Do it!” The sinister desperation was clear. “You know exactly what you need to do.” The other scoffed and let go. “It’s so sweet that you think she’ll be anything but a footnote in their stories. They’ve hurt you once and after a while you’ll simply just be an afterthought. They’ll abandon you one by one and it’ll be even worse. You’re fucked either way. Why not make it easier.” She sobbed under the weight of her fear, “Why does it matter?” They both spoke at once. Someone how she twisted herself out of the grasp and scrambled backwards, hands inches away from the sanctuary. “No.” She repeated. “You aren’t….” A laugh escaped the crueler of the two. “Aren’t what? We aren’t what? Tell us. Nobody cares what you think but go ahead and pretend we care.” Again her words were stuck in her throat. She turned and faced the decrepit sanctuary again. The moon shown high, it’s beams revealing the horrors. She sat there unable to move and she shook her head. The fearsome shadows spiny fingers ghosted against her throat again. “No surprises there.” The other was soft again. “It’s better this way.” She looked up at empty walls and nodded. “It is.” Her focus was unmoving, staring up at her way out. Staring at her way to let it all go. And how easy it would be to simply end it there, to close her book and never finish the chapter. 

 “I know who you are.” The creatures hummed in curiosity. “Do you now. Do you know who we are, if you do then what’s stopping you.” The girl furrowed her brow and shook her head. “Because I’m not you.” She finally looked up and stared at the shadows directly. “I’ll never understand you. But I never knew you, so how could I. I blame you for a lot. And part of me knows you can’t help it. But part of me will just never understand . And if I keep trying to well what does it matter.” The air was thick, the moonlight shifting again. She was silent for a moment. “So fuck you.” She mumbled softly. “Fuck you both. Fuck you.” 

She stood up. She stepped forward away from that wretched ending. Hot tears welled in her eyes, she shook her head.  “I’m scared.” Her voice cracked,  “and I’m tired. And I don’t care what you want from me. You don’t get a say in anything I do anymore. You get to watch me be a disappointment. You get to watch me fuck up everything. I want you to know just how much you play apart in every single one of those fuck up because they truly start with you.”  The creatures stood up, their full height, menacing. “Oh really.”

 She nodded. “Yeah. I know who you are and I’m not you. I’ll never be anything you want me to be again.” 

Reaching into her pocket she pulled out her lighter. She played with it for a moment. “If I burn...so will you…” Eyes that were trained towards the ground finally looked up and she realized what horror she was dealing with. But she knew if they were anything else then what she saw getting out of her would be futile and she would be stuck in this hell, slowly turn into whatever was before her. Those weren’t the memories she wanted, She had to burn them away. 

With a flick of her lighter she set the hymnal on fire and placed it in the pew. The silver moonlight and the golden flames reflected against her eyes. She backed away and climbed out of one of the broken windows, the glass scratching her skin. She walked over to the front of the church and looked at the two figures again. They were unfazed by the flames as the rotting church roared with the blaze. As the fire consumed the building they stood there, those creatures of her fears and failures and as the fire lit their faces she recognized them. The faces staring at her with such contempt and sorrow.. They would never leave her, never burn or get better. They would simply be there. She stared, tears falling down her eyes. The more sorrowful one of the two offered their hand, fingers too long for any human, it beckoned wordlessly. She was sure it was a trick of the flames, how the creature with the outstretched palm almost felt warm, a calling or beckoning type of warmth.  The other spoke. “Why would you want to go back, back to a place where you are nothing but the dark side of the moon. No one to ever see, overshadowed by sun and stars, craters and meteors. You are cold and alone, desolate and not to be admired. Nobody cares. You are fools gold among diamonds, worthless and nothing to show for. Among them you are simply a nuisance, a frustration. You don’t bring them anything special, anything that would be noteworthy. Just another problem. You’ve always been a problem and will always be a problem.” 

The girl nodded. “Yeah... .” 

The creature was right. Right? 

“I was? I wasn’t always.” She mumbled. “I could have been something.” The heat of the flames distracted her for a moment. “But what does it matter? It's not like either of you were there to fix that problem.” She smiled, the small sound of laughter finally bellowing around. The laugh grew louder until it echoed around her. “But if I stay then what is…” Her voice trailed off. “No. No. No more what ifs. Just this.” The flames  continued to roar and she stood there letting the church be consumed by the flames. And when the smoke rose and the flames died out she finally exhaled. The moonlight dimmed and a cool blue tone took over the midnight sky. Dawn was coming. She turned on her heel and started walking away. She walked towards the forest and the trees became more dense she didn’t really know how to get back she was just walking. Her eyes became heavy though and she grew more and more tired with each step until she finally fell exhausted. Looking up the sky was turning pink and orange, Sunrise. She liked sunrise and something about this one was all the more brilliant. As the sun got higher and higher her eyes closed  and she smiled.

[verfugen]

☭ !!!! [ idk if i sent this already but GIMME ]

@zorkaya

BATTLE THEME: YEHOSHUA

BATTLE INTRO:  “Disappointed? Yeah, I can tell... but I’ve got my reasons, and I do not think you will ever understand. Regardless, I’m going to tell you anyway.” Sigmund stood, though bloodied, battered, and bruised he may be, the soldier ignored the pain that wreaked havoc on his body. This was not the first time he came out of a battle so severely wounded.  “Do you know why I don’t go all out? You say you’re hiding your cards, you say I hide mine in return because I don’t want to show them to you -- but that is where your assumptions of me end. You think you’re playing a game of poker. You fight to win, but me? I’ve got a DIFFERENT problem.” 

     Sigmund charged, disappearing before the woman’s eyes as he appeared before her once more, pummeling her with his fists over and over. The shockwaves of his punches leveled the ground, uprooted trees, and sent wild gusts of wind flying before he sent her her flying through several treelines with a kick.

“Do you think I’m afraid of dying and losing to you? I’m a person who doesn’t have a single heartbeat in his own body. I died the day the Moon almost fell on this world. Unlike you, I do not have the same luxuries. I’m not afraid of losing, nor being proven better. I’m more afraid that I will hurt those around me, that if I lose control, SOMEONE could die. Yeah, I’ve lost a lot of people that way, because I hesitated, because I could not do anything. I can’t always be right!” 

“But YOU. You can take it, can’t you? So tell me, Zarina.....” 

“Have you EVER felt what it is like to be on a receiving end of a super-condensed nuclear blast that can collapse parts of the reality, and cause black holes as a result? Me neither, but you’re going to know.”   

VICTORY: “Leave you for the wolves? Do you think of me that heartless? I’m a Beast, but I’m a different Beast than you. You’re a Wolf, and I’m a Lion who unsheaths his claws when he has to. That is all there is to it. You’re not dying here.” 

DEFEAT:  “.....” 

ASSIST:  “Don’t act so coy. I will help you just this one time. Remember that we just share a common enemy.” 

TAUNT:  “Do you think I’m about to taunt you?” 

REACTING TO TAUNT:  “It’s going to take more than that to piss me off, Zarina. I’m not playing around anymore. Why? You already pissed me off long time ago.” 

FLEE:  No FLEEING

REACTING TO FLEE:  “Do not think you can get away from me, Zarina. I’ve already given you a chance to do so!” After loading a bullet into his gunblade, he pulled the trigger as he slammed its razor-sharp edge down to the ground. The superheated, miniature nuclear blast sent the air pressure upwards in a form of infernal storm of all-consuming spiral column of hellpyre. Before Zarina could get away, she was sucked in as he grabbed her by the throat. “We’re finishing this for real.” 

TIE:  No ties. It’s either a win or loss. 

PERFECT VICTORY: What perfect victory? 

FINISH MOVE:    

BGM; n01r

     The flash of blue lightning carved and burnt through the once lush greenery, filling the air with superheated ozone as the mana around Sigmund condensed, gathered, and manifested into the single point of his hand. As infinite heat and cold clashed against one another, another source of burning heat began to fill the air, his very own soul. It was like a blue meteor bathed in blue flames, forming and swirling in his hand as the very ancient words he whispered began to bleed into reality. The words of power, powers that shook the Valga to its very core, and once ruled it with its iron rule.

     For in ancient times, words were power.  

     The world around Sigmund thundered, skies turned grey, the very space around him began to crack and shatter at the very words he spoke as he took steps forward against Zarina’s ice, cold imprisonment that threatened to turn his very being into some sort of a popsicle. He could every bone in his body freezing, yet the heat he generated drove back and clashed against the woman’s infinite, eternal winter. However, this Sun was not ready to die just yet. 

     Sigmund’s eyes closed, then opened once more. 

“M̶̝̚a̴̪͗n̷̠͛ĩ̴̯f̶͖͂e̶͈̅s̵̟̿t̷̜͠, ye who art from the hate-scorched sky, Twist and turn in thine chains,  And open the gates of infinity! I call ‘pon thee, the one who tears Demons, and gnaws the flesh of the Gods:  CALADBOLG!”  

     Followed by an explosion, Sigmund lept forward, ignoring the below-freezing temperatures of infinite sub zero that attempted to destroy his body. Even if it broke him, he would drive himself forward, for he was such a man to do so. Even if it was suicidal, even if it took his life, he vowed for himself to stop her. If she was infinity, he would simply go beyond his own limit. 

"̶͈̦̣̼̥͍̈͗̅̂̿͆͗̉̍̉͒́̓̚̕A̴̰̭͖̋̓͊̏̏͆͝͝Ǘ̵͓̙͇̮͉̘͖̥͙̰̳̜̖̿͛͛͘͠͝ͅG̶̢͓̥̩̖̻̿̀̄̀͂̈̈́̒͜͜H̴̡̢͇̱̲̥̣̺̝͓́̓̑̀͆͒̀̔̒̅̏̒̕H̵̻̻̟͇̠͈̪͕̿͗͛̇͜͝H̷̨̨̢͚̬̆͗́͑͘͜͝Ḩ̷̧̛̥͉͚̟̼̠̘̦͈̟̣̺͖͆̀̒̌̚Ȟ̷͚̘͇̤̲̼̤̜͍̟̇̉̇̾͌̀̇͋̓͘͝ͅḦ̸̨̆̏͋͌̿́̇̑̿͒͒̈́H̷̘͙̙̠͖̫͒̆̓͂͛͋͋̇̈́̃͐̓̅͌͘H̷̨̧̲͖̼̟͛̅̓̉̔̈́͠H̶̢̡̬͖̜͎̣̠͂̂̆̿̉̕H̸̠́͐͒̿̈́͗̊̀́͆̿̓̐̅̕Ḫ̷̘̊H̵̢̖̒̊͗̽̎́̕!̶͓́̿̉̉͝"̴̬̝̗̮͍͓̫̳͓͛͋̎̍ ̵̡̢̢̟̪͕̙̭̹̝̖͙̈́͌͐͐͂    

          Sigmund’s gunblade slammed against her body violently like a comet, and in a singular, powerful slash - the woman’s armor made of ice tore itself asunder against the force of the infinite number of weapons being rammed against her being from all the possible timelines into that EXACT same spot. His fingers froze, the air he breathe began to freeze, so much so that he could see his vision being frosted over. However, with the last pull of his trigger, the space around them exploded. 

     The air crackled, the singularity gave way against the heat and weight of Sigmund’s attack and formed a temporary blackhole before collapsing and converging in on itself. The result was an absolute devastation that could be seen for miles, a large, massive metropolis-sized crater and at the middle were two figures, collapsed on top of another. 

[theodinsonsonmidgard]

Hold me Tight 2 - part 2-

Perhaps, as Thor said, it was true that those transparent waters had the power to cleanse your soul and make you think more clearly. Perhaps this is the power the Gods have given to the salt waters of Midgard. Thor and I enjoyed ourselves as I never remembered before. Perhaps only in our earliest childhood days, I remember a joy so pure in being together.

I swam with him, competing in speed with the white-crusted waves: we are young, we are strong, Sons of Odin, and we looked like the creators of Midgard came down to enjoy the beauties of that paradise. Sometimes I watched him swim, while I stopped to wash out the water dripping on my face from my hair. Thor, my wonderful brother. Thor, whom I feared having lost forever. Thor, please don't leave me behind ...

I wonder if I'm still your brother, at your eyes. Somewhere, in our past, a crack has opened up and is chasing us to swallow both of us once and for all. Even now.

It was my fault, Thor, I opened that crack, ... and I'll close it for both, i promise you. But don't let me go this time.

Then I couldn't think more because a dripping blond giant swept me away with a bear hug, and dragged me off with him, with a laugh, over the waves.

Dinner was roast meat of which my brother was very proud. As the air turned purple and the sun went down, I had already made my decision. No regrets. I felt strong, strangely euphoric. I wanted to hug him but I restrained myself. There would be time, i was sure of it.

The fire crackled placidly. The night air, which became almost pungent, didn't disturb me, on the contrary, it cooled my skin a little, and caressed my thoughts. Even the wind had changed its voice, its smell, ...no longer the scent of freedom, but something deeper, earthy, almost visceral. Perhaps due to the volcanic rocks and ungainly bushes of the hills above us. And he was there, beyond that bonfire ... with flaming reflections to sculpt his face, blonder than ever, an open smile.

Thor Odinson. 

My brother. Who spoke loudly, who told me stories, who laughed, ...and I listened to him, teased him, laughed with him, while another part of me, secretly, was looking for the guts to put into effect what I had decided earlier.

It had been a wonderful day. The first since Thor brought me back. Perhaps one of the rarest of my whole life. And I didn't want to ruin it with what I was going to do, but I decided to be ready. Or anyway I could try. I wanted to start trusting.

Ours had been a wretched and unhappy family, yet, whether I wanted it or not, I loved Thor. Desperately.

I had given my life for him.

Twice. The word 'brother' in my mind has the bright face of Thor. And I had decided to let him enter in a part of my life so private and hurtful that I've been hiding since years. That I know only myself.

I wanted to start trusting him. Showing him that I had changed, that I could stop protecting myself and flee. Although it would have required a lot of courage, since I should have ...

Thor was laughing at me and the fact that I was staring at the fire dance like an idiot. I roused myself, smiling.

'C'mon, you bastard ...'

"Thor, listen ..." I bit my lip, he noticed it this time, and softened his voice.

"Loki, what is it? Do you have migraine? Do you want us to go home?"

I chuckled to hide the tension: would you face the most terrible of storms, knowing you were naked as a worm? Totally defenseless? Because this was what I was going to do from now on ...

"No, I'm great,... no, listen ..."

'Look at him, Loki ...'

"Do you remember when we fought each other, during all those painful and absurd years? You've always accused me of being too quiet. You told me to keeping you at a distance, to rejecting you. Of never making you enter my thoughts, explain my feels... that I was the worse brother, ... no, wait, please. "  I smiled  "Please wait ..."

A deep breath. Burning air, cold and salted, rising up the nose, until it invades my chest.

 "So I decided that I can do it, a step towards you, brother, and try to break down this wall that keeps us in our pride. And that Surtur may devour me if I'm not trembling to the bone, damn you!"

 Silence. Wind and the liquid chant of the sea, black into black.

"Do you remember when ...when I ...I let it go? When I fell down, long time ago, ... when everything was shattered, me for first but nobody cared. Remember when I came back and everything was different, everything changed. Your gang of new pompous friends, Midgard, ... all the rest. I have very confused memories of those days, but I remember well when we met again, between heaven and earth. And we talked, or rather we spit on each one our hatred. I could have told you then, but you had other things on your mind and no intention of listening. Or maybe not, I wouldn't have told you a shit either." I giggled nervously.

I was wearing an half-buttoned old shirt, worn and light, of which I didn't care at all,...dark blue, shiny fabric. I undid the third button.

"I fell into the void, then, ... into nothingness. I wanted... to die, to finally find peace, to appease my pain. Instead I found a worse hell. Perhaps the worstest of all. And I implored death as the sweetest of salvations."

Gods, it's terrible to remember aloud. I can't believe you're next to me, listening all of this. For real.

"He took me. I don't know how he did it, but I found myself crawling at his feet in an alien and terrible world. He was thirsty for power. He had a plan. He wanted everything. He wanted the Gems and crush down the Worlds, and I could be useful to him. But first he had to crush down me."

I undid another shirt's buttonhole.

"I know you never understood much of what's on my mind, Thor, ...but it wasn't your fault. Not always, at least. And this thing ... maybe it was beyond both of us."

I undid the penultimate button.

"There was no more day, no more night. There was only cold, pain and fear. There were many of them. They surrounded me. They laughed at me. Call me names. But his shadow on the moldy marbles was enough to make them disappear, leaving me at his mercy... Did you ever wonder why I hate sudden gestures, or why unexpected noises make me uncomfortable when they don't terrify me? "

Here, the shirt was open.

"Have you ever wondered why I stiffen every time you touch me? ... I was afraid of the whip, but the worst was the fire. The fire was the craziest pain, and ... I lost consciousness. Almost always. That maniac knew how to use the whip well. Where to hit. How to hit. He whispered in my mind, ... no one will ever care about you, little monster, ... nobody wants you, they despise you, spit on your shadow of demon, you're been a burden for everyone, you will always be, but I can give you the power that... if only you... "

I swallowed again. The air started to become cold, too much cold, ...carried with it a vague hint of resin ...

'NO!!'

It has always been like this. Frost magic woke up every time I was upset, or if something infuriated me, and blew ice on everything around me. But it couldn't happen there, ... there, in the sea waves glossy of moonlight, and the holey rocks of the volcanoes.

'Loki, dominate yourself!! Not now, Loki, not here!!'

The blue shirt slid over my shoulders, then I pulled my arms off from sleeves. Here, Thor, ... take a step into my world, ... look at my miserable pain.

"It was ... it was pure hell, Thor. A hell made of blood, pain and fear in which I crawled for I don't know how long. I saw my blood, I felt it on me, it made me sick. Did you ever notice how sickening it is the smell of blood? ... With fire I went crazy. With the blades I saw death in the eyes, and had the purple skin of my killer, that son of a bitch. He wanted me crushed, and he crushed me. He wanted me submitted and I bent. Because I healed. In a hurry. I am a God and he knew it. So the ... horror started again, always. The young Loki, the one who sought death to forget the pain, is gone. He was destroyed by that hell. I ... I don't know what he made me become but I survived by pure animal instinct, I survived the fire, the whip, the blades, the cold and beatings. But I healed more slowly, so he decided I was ready."

I didn't have the guts to look at Thor. I was there, bare-chested, arm in arm with him, and I felt his burning blue eyes on me. It burned like those blades.

Are you pale? Are you speechless? Furious? In tears? I don't want to know now, brother.

"I know what you are seeing. I know them one by one. They heal slowly. Some will never heal. Some intertwine on the shoulders, stretch to the chest. There is also a fire wound, next to it ... the blades instead were biting arms ...here, and here, ..." I barely touched my pale skin "The whip tore the skin from the back. The back is the worst. There are a couple that still hurt,...others no longer exist. Like here, on the eyebrow, or just above the ear..."

Scars. From the shoulders as far as a whip could reach. Or tongues of fire. Or those damn blades.

There was no better way to tell you. Nor a different way. Forgive me, brother...

He had to see them and I had to do it. I realized that if I wanted to recover from all my shit, I had to let go and expose myself.

Running away had only made things worse, it was festering everything.

I need my you to see, Thor. I need to hear your support. I wanted to know that you can be with me, so my recovery will be less painful and I could move on more easily. Will you stand by my side, brother?

So I looked up at him, and saw it.

The raging storm.

Flaming fury in Thor's dark eyes. Ready to lash out at me. I could feel them, those eyes, like a punch in the face. I knew I had hurt him and it devastating me. Now I realized I had broken him and I would have given everything to be able to go back and cancel that insane decision of mine. I wanted to die, and I probably would have died by his hand, because the one in front of me was no longer the chatty, smiling Thor who hugged me and called me "little brother".

He was the God of Thunder in his wildest and most primordial form. Rage and fury. It was pure berserk fury as I had never seen it before.

A terrifying roar shook the night sky and shook the earth beneath the volcanoes with a frightening groan. The air vibrated in my ears with such intensity that forced me to a stifled moan of pain. Then the air was shattered by the furious cry of the God of Thunder, which I had just completely broke with my senseless act. So I was ready to die.

[crapitskizaru]

Kabedon’d!Trafalgar Law x Ronin!Male!Reader

if the requests are open... a (male?) reader who is an actual ronin in wano and is a general (horny bastard) badass and also like 7 feet tall and he just. kabedons law bc. i need to see law being kabedon'd. pls give me law being kabedon'd signora... pls..........

Warning: i have to admit i had to check what that fancy word means and.........i certainly wasnt dissapointed (also kabedon’d is my new fav word) + wano setting and a bit of ooc law

Word Count: 1,2k

If only Law had been paying more attention, he wouldn’t have stumbled upon a murderous samurai. 

It was supposed to be a normal day and he didn’t want it to be ruined so soon; especially when the main source of trouble was yet to arrive to the island - Law prefered not to even think about him in case he heard that particular laughter and the goofy captain behind it sooner than he’d have wanted. 

For now, he planned on relaxing. 

“I’m really glad we’re all together now, Captain,” Bepo said, trying to keep as still as possible in order not to disturb Law that already made himself comfortable with the bear as a pillow. 

His captain mumbled an affirmative under his breath without opening his eyes nor changing his position for even an inch. He was in a perfect spot now - the sun shining on his clothes and warming him up, the wooden cabin his crew stumbled upon providing some blissful shade.

He should have known it was all too good to last long. 

“Oi, you there.” 

Bepo flinched at an unfamiliar, raspy voice and started frantically looking around. The movements caused Law to slide down from the perfect position he worked so hard on maintaining, which caused his already shattered nerves to tie themselves in knots. He took a deep breath to calm himself down, deciding it will be for the best if he just ignored the stranger in hope they will go away. 

Of course, they didn’t. 

“Oi. Are you deaf? This is my place. Get out, you and your pet.” 

Law slowly inhaled again and opened his eyes. There was a samurai standing in front of him with his hand already reaching for his sword, as if he was expecting a fight. The situation might have been more dramatic if the man wasn’t so tall - his head reached far above the cabin’s roof so he had to awkwardly bend down to fit into the entrance. Law might have cracked a smirk on that one, but the hellish flames of irritation kept rising in his gut, fanned by the desperate need to be finally left alone. 

“I have no business with you. Go away,” Law muttered, fixing his hat so that it covered his eyes and made him look as if he was about to take a casual nap in the middle of a conversation.

“I’m sorry!” Bepo shrieked when the samurai shot him an unpleasant glance. “Captain, maybe we should-” 

“Don’t apologize to this...” Law paused, lifting the edge of his hat a bit and giving the man a once-over. “...this maniac, Bepo. We found the cabin first.” 

“The cabin? This is barely some ramshackle shed,” the samurai snorted, his hand tightening around the handle of his sword. 

“But it’s mine.” 

Bepo shuddered indecisively when the man squinted his eyes at Law’s seemingly relaxed figure still sprawled on the floor. It was better to avoid confrontation. Why make enemies needlessly?

“You look like someone who would back away from a fight, pretty boy.” The man’s tone suggested he’s become more relaxed, now that Law didn’t exactly pose as a threat. “You must have no dignity to just lay in dirt when your enemy challenges you!” 

“Are we seriously doing this?” Law spat, sighing heavily and making a show of shaking the dust off his clothes as he stood up. “You’re challenging me to fight over a shed?” 

“I could challenge you over a rotten rag and your sense of honor should still tell you to fight!” 

“Captain! He really is a maniac, we can just leave him alone-”

“No, Bepo. I won’t let some lunatic order me around.” 

The cabin didn’t provide much space for both of them and neither wanted to back off first. So they stood there, one of them still weirdly hunched over and the other leaning against the wall, trying to look bored with the whole situation. 

“Are you going to finally pick up your sword or do you want me to get it for you?” the samurai gritted through his teeth. 

“If you’d be so kind.”

A surprised yelp emerged from Bepo’s direction when the stranger suddenly moved, apparently pushed over the edge with Law’s snarky remarks, and slammed his hand to the wall, trapping him against it with his huge body. Unfortunately for himself, he misjudged the amount of force required - his hand went straight through the thin, wooden wall of the cabin, but he didn’t pull it out as if it was all calculated.

“You’re one cocky bastard, aren’t you?” he smiled and let his gaze travel up and down Law’s frame without even trying to hide it. “I seriously wouldn’t mind crossing swords with you sometime.” 

Even though he took desperate attempts to stop it, a strong blush appeared on Law’s face, heating it up immediately.

“Your improper allusions are pathetic.” Law raised a casual eyebrow, but there was no denying the adrenaline rush in his veins - he wasn’t quite sure what the main cause was. “And now you’re devastating your own shed.” 

“What a dirty mind you have.” The man’s face was close that Law could feel the even puffs of breath on his cheek; the kimono spreading a bit and revealing more of the samurai’s defined ab muscles - as if Law hadn’t had them already imprinted in his mind. “Who are you again?” 

“That’s none of your business. But I can assure you, I’ll be staying around for some time.” 

“Oh,” the man flashed a smirk, apparently not discouraged by Law’s bored tone. “I don’t have to rush with fighting you then. Well, I hope next time we meet, we’ll be alone to resolve to whom this shed rightfully belongs.” 

“I can’t wait to find that out. I always wanted to call some rotten pieces of wood my own.” 

The samurai finally stepped back. While he was pulling out his arm, a few wooden pieces fell off, but he didn’t seem to mind that - the obvious hole in the wall was also left without a comment from his side. 

Only he was given back his personal space did Law realize he was keeping his breath as shallow as possible the whole time and his muscles were way too taut. Being forced against the wall wasn’t a pleasant experience, he had to admit that.

Never again, he thought to himself and fixed his clothes nervously. 

“You should relax while you still can,” the man said, eyeing him up and down. It already seemed to be a habit of his, which irritated Law even more. 

“I was trying to,” he replied dryly. “But I was violently disturbed.” 

“I will show you real violence when we meet again.” 

Law frowned, but the samurai was already strolling away, letting his sword hang freely by his belt. 

“I hope we never meet again,” Law muttered under his breath. 

“I heard that!” 

Bepo showed a confused expression but spoke only after he made sure the samurai was already far away. They watched his figure become smaller and smaller until it eventually disappeared among the land.

“We should be careful, Captain.” 

“Yes. But not of him. There are worse things in this country.” 

The sun was at its peak and the blue sky free of clouds - the evening could still be saved from being a total disaster to Law’s nerves.

He made himself comfortable on the ground again, closing his eyes and finally relishing in the peaceful atmosphere that once more took over the cabin, gently disturbed by Bepo’s occasional snores. 

And then Law heard a familiar but terrifying laughter coming in from the direction of the sea. 

“Shi, shi, shi! We’re finally here!”