#suddenly gripped by the desperate need to draw him. he loves yelling and killing so so so much

[identityquest]

yol...

[amethystunarmed]

Benjamin and the Paper

Word Count: 1040 AO3 Link Benjamin learns about the events surrounding the launch of the Brick Satellite, and regrets.

Benjamin finds out from the newspaper.

(That’s not entirely true. He finds out when a new, brilliant star appears in the sky, because he knows only two people with the will and the imagination to shift the heavens themselves. He looks at the new guiding light over head and thinks, My God, they did it.)

Benjamin finds out about their deaths from the newspaper. Because of course he does. He can think of no person the ink loves more than the Stratford twins. Of course it cradles their bodies close to its chest, gently brings them home to rest in New York City.

“Extra! Extra! Death in British Guiana, local heroes killed in military coup!”

Benjamin stops so suddenly, three different people run into him. “Sorry, excuse me,” he says, frantically looking around for the paper boy he’d heard yelling. He beelines towards him, shoving what is certainly too much money into the kid’s hand as he snatches the paper away from him. He frantically scours the paper, looking for the story the boy was yelling about.

Maybe it’s not them, Benjamin thinks, feeling slightly hysterical. It could be about anyone, you can’t throw a rock in New York City without hitting a local celebrity. Breathing has gotten harder, the world spins around him. But he can’t stop reading, he needs to know-

Herschel and Hanover, along with Margaret Cavendish and Samuel and Rose Stratford, are presumed deceased.

Benjamin’s knees give out, and he grips desperately to a lamp post to keep from falling.

Samuel and Rose Stratford, are presumed deceased.

Many times, people say they’ve forgotten the last words they’ve said to a departed loved one. They can only hope it was a casual display of love, or, at worst, a mundane conversation with no bearing on their lives or relationship.

Benjamin knows exactly what his last words to Sam and Rose were, despite how hard he tries to forget.

Enjoy the present before its past. 

Benjamin wishes he’d taken his own advice.

“Mister, are you okay?” The newsie asks, looking like he is afraid Benjamin is going to keel over next to him. Benjamin isn’t sure he answers. He opens his mouth, but he doesn’t think any sound comes out. Instead, he turns away and begins walking. 

In the three months since Benjamin ended both his career and his friendship with the Stratfords in an incredibly public spectacle, he has done a lot of thinking. For the first month, he stewed in a blinding, hazy anger, interspersed with far too much whiskey. By the second month, he realized how empty his life felt without the Stratfords in it, and hated himself for even considering it. Recently, he’s just missed them.

(He’d been trying to figure out if there was a way he could send them a letter. He had no idea where to send it, much less whether Sam and Rose would actually read it. He supposes it doesn’t matter now.)

When his feet stop, he realizes he has reached the Stratford Family Paper Stand. 

“You’ll always find a Stratford there!” Sam had once told him, like a reassurance. Like a North Star for Benjamin to follow if he ever lost them.

It is boarded up now, a sign over the door reading “Closed Until Further Notice.” Already, flowers line the walls, memorials for the heroes who told the world about life on the moon. He sees a paper with what could only be a child's drawing of a lunar buffalo. He remembers the way Rose and Sam had cackled when they told him about it, when they pulled this creature from thin air and made it real, preserved in ink before his very eyes. They created life with the dedication of gods and the whimsy of children.

The Paper Stand feels dead without them. There is nothing for him or anyone here. Not anymore. 

He keeps walking. 

It is dark when he finally gets to the office for the Sun.

He drifts forward toward the yellow light in the window. Because, surely, if looks in the window, he will see Sam, golden and brilliant in the lamp light, desperately scribbling in his notebook. He’ll see Rose, fingers blackened with ink from typesetting, the wrinkles in her furrowed brow like the lines of a constellation. He may have been an editor for the Sun, but the Stratfords were truly the ones Benjamin revolved around. As much as he likes to pretend the Lunar Hoax was a plot he got caught up in, he still remembers the thrill that ran through him as he put the first “Great Astronomical Discoveries” into type. He remembers being so excited for Rose and Sam’s reactions the next day. He remembers feeling positively giddy when they had beamed at him, once they saw he ran their story.

(When did that change? When did he decide their joy wasn’t enough?)

He feels adrift, a planet out of orbit. For as long as he can remember, his life has centered around the Stratfords, twin stars that tugged him into their gravity, be it as a friend, an enemy, or a man desperate to reconnect. What is his path, in a world without them?

He isn’t sure.

The door opens next to him, and Benjamin heart soars, because it’s them, it’s got to be them, it was just another hoax, they are back and really, shouldn’t Benjamin know better-

Chester Thomas stands, outlined in the doorframe. He looks worse than Benjamin has ever seen him, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, bottle of bourbon held loosely in his hand.

“What do you want?” He asks, voice curt and monotone. And Benjamin is going to leave, going to apologize and go about his business. Chester Thomas is the last person he wants to talk to right now, he doesn’t think his ego can take it. He fully plans to go home and stare at the ceiling of his bedroom until it is an acceptable time for him to get up again. He is going to leave, really.

So even he’s surprised when he says, “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Chester sighs, and steps to the side. “Come on in.”

And, God help him, Benjamin does.

[cringecannon]

ive been reading ur posts for a while and i had a vision from god recently that i needed to share with like minds, so i hope this will be to ur taste... i've been trying to find others who i know this will appeal to (besides me)

but...... bhaalcest-- orin being incredibly possessive over durge and jealous over gortash and durge's relationship, so she changes into gortash when she knows durge is expecting him and has her way with durge, while they're none the wiser.

for the sake of everyone else (and urself) i wont get into the nasty gorey parts that really makes this so much better, i love me some knife"play" (is it really play if orin just outright stabs u) and woundfucking (that i really want to get into but!!!!! i have to find the right audience... hoping i can rant insanely about all that here i just didn't wanna outright plop it down when this scene is good by itself too LJDLASJFAL) -👻

To be fair, I already wrote about Orin fingering a wound. I’m all for insane fucked up knifeplay rants in my inbox. Anyway, obligatory Dubcon, Orin, and Improper Use of Gortash’s Body warning

Something’s wrong with Enver.

You only notice it sometimes. The look in his eyes is wrong, or his grip on you is far too tight. Whenever you mention the change in demeanor, he brushes it off. Or he gets angry. Yelling, throwing things, veins in his throat bulging kind of angry. There’s something wrong with him. The man you know wouldn’t act like this.

You love it.

You almost pounce on him the first time it happens, so turned on you don’t even bother removing anything but the bare necessities. He’s confused for only a moment, but quickly falls into place. You ride him until his eyes roll back, nails digging so hard into your hips that they draw blood. You leave your own bloody scratches down his chest, marking him.

Imagine your surprise when you get to see him again a few days later and the marks are gone completely. It throws you off- your hips are still bruised. You call him out on it, he waves his hand and says he had an image to uphold. He can’t walk around looking like he was attacked by a feral cat. The comment irritates you. You like seeing him marked up, proof that he’s yours. You reach for your knife subtly. You think he needs to be reminded of your real claws.

You’re frozen when instead an ornate dagger is suddenly held to your throat. That bastard. He’s stolen your trick.

He presses the point of it to your throat, drawing blood. You feel the warm drip of it down your skin and into your shirt. You should kill him for this. You should play in his guts while he begs for the mercy of death. However, feeling him cut through your clothes with no regard for your safety excites you more. Every thin slice into your skin as he hurries to get you nude is exhilarating. You’ll get him back for it, eventually. You just need him inside you.

He shoves you back hard, splaying you out on the table. You eagerly spread your legs for him, throwing your head back with a gasp when he bends down to lick the trail of blood all the way back up to your neck.

He groans into your ear, hips grinding against yours with a stuttered breath. He wants to savor your blood, forever remember it staining your pretty skin. He leans to the side to hold the dagger against your stomach, dragging the blade across it teasingly. The cut is thin, barely drawing blood. You arch your back, desperate for more. He laughs breathlessly, pulling the dagger away to instead hold it over your thigh. You ask what's gotten into him. He laughs again, biting down on your shoulder. He asks a question of his own- how far would you let him go?

The dagger dances on your skin and you writhe, holding back a grin. Anything. You'd let him do anything, so long as you could play with him too. He groans, mouthing at the junction where your shoulder meets your neck. Of course. It'd only be fair, he wants you to play in his blood too. Wouldn't it be divine, love?

He's never called you love, ever. You're not sure he's called anyone love in his life, but when the blade finally bites into your flesh... you can't seem to make yourself care. You just beg for more.

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

OBSESSIVE STOLAS X Male Imp Pt.1

(This is a long fanfic and will consist of multiple parts.)

The day Stolas met you, the life which had been boring at worst and full of love and respect at best, was in complete shambles. Broken ever since the "Brunch incident".

He and his wife were barely on speaking terms, and when they did speak, it would almost exclusively devolved into a fight filled with harsh words and thrown objects.

His darling starfire hadn't spoken to him in over a week. Something he'd usually chock up to teenage angst, but she actively avoided him now.

Something she'd never do before.

And so with his homelife slowly tearing him apart, he naturally thought a visit to his favourite Imp in all hell would brighten his day.

And that's where you came in.

You'd worked at I.M.P for the last few months and were quickly becoming a valued member of the I.M.P family.

Youd just finished a job and were about to fill out the rather tedious paperwork the job entailed, When the towering Demon Prince entered the office.

You were too proud an Imp to admit it, but when you first saw Prince Stolas you were a little starstruck.

Said Prince, apon finding a new Imp at I.M.P's office immediately inquired as to who you were

Taken off guard by suddenly be talking to a Prince of hell, you spent a moment fumbling your words, before finally telling him your name.

Stolas finding the whole thing quiet adorable.

Stolas sparked up a conversation, asking how you ended up at I.M.P and your work with the company. Something you were more than happy to tell him about.

You told him how Blitzø had hired you after youd single handedly killed 3 men in a fight with only a can opener.

Then you told him about how working as an assassin was challenging but enjoyable work, all things considered.

You tell him how working for the chaotic force of nature that is Blitzø was great too, when he wasn't being a prick.

As charming as Stolas found your slightly flustered conversation. There was a purpose to his visit. And so asking you if Blitzø was in, to which you told him he was in his office.

Stolas suddenly became anxious, wondering aloud if his outfit was presentable or not.

This caused you to laugh, placing a hand over your mouth.

Stolas was immediately indignant, demanding to know what was so funny.

You killed the laugh with a cough, before telling him you laughed because simply put "You'd never seen a more ravishing demon in all your time in hell" And for him to be anxious was funny to you.

Stolas Blushed hard, a Warmth he didn't understand spreading through his chest. It had been so long since he'd received such praise from someone who wasnt utterly subservient to him.

Sputtering out an timid thank you, before immediately making his way Blitzø's office, Ignoring your cries to wait.

Being violently thrown out of Blitzø's office was not how he saw this unplanned little 'Rendezvous' going.

Blitzø stepped out stared down at him, a mixture of disgust and anger plain on his face.

'I'm so sick of this shit stolas' Blitzø grumble out, pinching the bridge between his eyes. 'We made a Fucking deal, I come over ONCE a MONTH and fuck your brains out. And you leave me alone unless you have a job for us.'

Stolas tried to reply, trying to explain why he was there. But before he could Blitzø interjected 'I can put up with all creepy perverted texts and shit, but I am not your God Damned SEXTOY Stolas! I don't want to see your ass don't here again!' He screamed, before slamming the door.

Stolas just sat there. Unwilling to move. He felt like he'd just been slapped.

His eyes stung. His throat burned. He clutched at the ground, and even as his world fell apart around him, he could only focus on one thing.

He felt so cold...

He had no one.

No one loved him.

He felt so cold...

It took everything he had not to breakdown, he couldn't, not here. It was unbecoming of a prince to been seen showing such weakness.

The sudden sensation of something on his shoulder. Daring to open his eyes, he was shocked to find You, standing over him. Hand on his shoulder and a sympathetic smile on your face.

You reached into your coat and removed a handkerchief.

Croutching down you wiped the growing dew around his eyes.

Putting away the hanky, you stood up and offered him a hand.

Helping him to his feet, you asked him if he was okay. Stolas immediately tried to put up his aristocratic facade and assure you he was fine.

Only for the words to die in his throat and for him to almost burst into tears again.

Leading him into the nearby office, you find yourself in the conference room. You sat him on said conference table.

Quickly zipping off, you returned a moment later with a little plastic cup of water.

Handing the little cup, he took it with a wordless thanks.

Stolas felt cold.

He felt like his whole world was falling apart. He had nothing.

His wife couldnt stand him.

His beloved Starfire wouldn't stay in the same room as him.

He had nothing and no one.

No one loved him.

Why should he even go on.

Even through there crimson glow, you could see just how close he was to breaking down.

So before his despair could consume him completely, you did the only thing you could think of.

You climbed atop the conference table and pulled the poor owl-boi into a hug.

It was a little awkward due to the height difference, but standing on the table brought you high enough to pull his head onto your chest.

Stolas was utterly shocked, not just by the action itself, But the fact you did this on your own acord.

He didn't have to barter or beg or make promises for your affection.

You just... gave it freely.

He couldnt help himself.

It had been so long since he'd last felt the loving touch of another soul.

And for you to give affection so openly, he felt he could let himself be vulnerable to you. He releases a long anguished cry, bursting into tears.

You just held him close, gently petting his head, whispering words of comfort, telling him everything would be okay.

He didn't know why but your words brought out

Stolas threw his arms around you, holding onto you as though you were the last anchor in his sea of despair.

The poor owl drenched the front of your shirt with his dejected tears.

Stolas didn't know how long he cried for, and you simply didn't care.

You could tell he needed this and were more then happy to give the demonic prince some much needed affection.

Eventually, Stolas shed all the tears he had, standing up he unintentionally pulled himself from your warm embrace.

Stolas instantly missed the warmth of your touch. The same all consuming coldness as before instantly returning.

Looking up at Stolas you draw your handkerchief and go to wipe his tear stained face.

But before you could, Stolas grabbed your hand, his other hand was placed on the back of your head, he pulls you into a kiss.

You weren't sure how to react, stolas certainly didn't give you any time to figure it out as he pulled you deeper into the kiss.

While you were initially shocked by the kiss, you honestly, didn't care to put up any kind of resistance.

While you would of preferred he asked for a kiss, you could tell the guy needed this. And all things considered, you were happy to oblige him.

So when his tongue slid across your teeth, asking for entrance, you wrapped your arms around his neck you let it in, giving stolas full access to your mouth.

You began leaning into the kiss, doing your best to return his passion.

Stolas, took your returning passion as further permission, he became more aggressive.

His tongue dominated your mouth, as his hands began roamed across your body.

Stolas was in bliss, each time you shivered or moaned, bringing him further pleasure.

Taking each sound as encouragement, he became more and more aggressive. Sure that each sound you made was an unconscious sign of love.

He became more desperate to hear your angelic voice as moaned or cried out. Desperate to hear someone say they loved him.

Gripping his head, you tried to de-escalate the situation before it got out of hand.

Of course that was easier said then done, as Stolas was much stronger then he looked. But after much effort, despite Stolas's silent insistence that you continue, you finally managed to break the kiss.

Stolas's forceful nature found you pushed back onto the table. Stolas towering over you, staring down at you with those awe inspiring crimson eyes.

'We cant be this doing this' You try to tell him 'Not here. What if someone walks in on us?' The question hung in the air. When it became obvious it wasn't deterring his growing need you asked 'What if Blitzø catches us?'

Stolas pulled back at that.

Looking to the side he rubbed his arm, Anxiety bubbling in his chest.

Stolas hadn't thought of that.

What if Blitzø did walk in?

Finding him with one of his employees.

In his office.

Would Blitzø be upset?

Would he yell at him, scream and throw a fit, insisting he had betrayed him...

Would Blitzø even care?

There was a part of him that said 'Of course he would. Blitzø, no matter how much he denied it, surely Blitzø cared for him on some level.'

Stolas could tell himself that all he wanted, but deep down, he knew the truth.

He placed his hand on your cheek, looking down at you. He tried to speak only for a new wave of emotions hit him, causing him on reflex to fall silent.

It was in that moment, as he stood over you, did he realis he didn't need to hide his vulnerability from you. You weren't judging him, he could be vulnerable to you and would judge him for it.

His heart swelled and despite having just met you, he found himself developing a deep yearning to be with you.

'I-I know this is sudden. And you have every right to say no. But please... No one has ever shown me such genuine affection like you have today.'

' I'm so used to people only interested in me for my status or resources.' Stolas held himself, looking dejectedly to the side. A new wave of sorrow enveloping him.

'Your the only one who's shown me the slightes care, past what I could do for them.' He didn't meet your gaze, he ran his hand down your chest, his voice becoming just above a whisper. 'I have nothing (Y/N), I have no one. Right now your the only thing I have.'

'I need to feel something (Y/n), I need to feel something before I fall apart, and I want feel it with you.' He was practically begging you by this point.

Things like pity and mercy were a death sentence in hell.

There was nothing stopping you from saying no. You cared little for royalty. You weren't some door mat that took every word from royalty as gospel.

But right now, this great Demonic Prince standing before you. He didn't want your obedience. He wasn't forcing you to do anything.

He just wanted some sort of affection. something you knew you could give him so easily.

How could you say no?

With a deep sigh, you resigned yourself to your fate. Leaning forward you place your hand under his chin and raised his head to meet your gaze. Stolas was shocked when pulled him close and planted a kiss on his his beak.

'Lock the door' you whispered.

[mrsalwayswrite]

Rage Like Ice (Sihtric x Reader)

This is my first time writing Sihtric, so let me know what y’all think!

Warnings: assault, attempted strangulation, aftermath of assault (I promise the assault itself is only brief)

Words:2,100

Tag List: @happyveday​ @evelynshelby​

  Thyra dabbed away the blood dripping from your split lip. You could see her wanting to say something but soon as she opened her mouth, something would flicker in her eyes and she would snap her mouth shut. 

 "Thyra… I am glad it was me. We don't need Beocca committing murder." You tried to both tease and soothe, even as you winced after you attempted to smile. 

 She smiled faintly but you could tell it was hollow. Her lips moved but her eyes remained sorrowful. "The gods were watching over us." She murmured in her gentle voice. 

 You nodded. Being the only two Dane women in Wintanceaster and both having been saved from different places by Uhtred and his men, you two had bonded. She had become the sister you never had. 

 "Sihtric may kill him though." Her fathomless eyes dropped down to the bruises forming around your throat then back up to meet your own. 

 "Shite. I need to cover it up."

 She stared, eyes trailing over your face and neck. Most likely realizing the improbability of hiding the evidence of the fight. "Let me see what I can do." She dropped the bloodied cloth onto the table next to you, then spun on her heel and walked towards the bedroom without another word. 

 Soon as she was out of sight, you dropped your head into your hands and exhaled like it would dismiss all the tension and frustration rolling around in your gut. Your throat was beginning to ache and talking made it worse, even as you tried to mask the pain. You did not need Thyra heaping anymore guilt onto herself. Especially when it was not her fault. 

 The afternoon had not gone according to plan. King Alfred had summoned Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric to talk about Dane raids. Of course, Beocca tagged along, most likely in an attempt to keep Uhtred in line. Osferth had said something about visiting the church to pray. So while the men were gone, Thyra and you planned on taking a leisurely stroll through the market, getting supplies for a special dinner and working on it together before the men returned. You knew the simple act of making a meal with female company was something she missed from her childhood with her mother, so you tried to do it every time you could. 

 Of course, fate had other plans. 

 On your walk, a Saxon man yelled 'Dane whores' at you two from his seat at a pub. When you two ignored him, arms locked together and you rolled your eyes… apparently that was the wrong action to take. He stumbled out of his seat, not quite drunk but certainly not sober, and followed like a stray cat, hissing and trying to be threatening. 

 What you did not expect was for him to sneak up from behind and shove you forcefully to the ground. It may have been the dismissive look you had given him or how you told him to 'just leave us alone, bastard', but he focused all his anger out on you. He shoved Thyra to the ground also, kicking away her basket, spilling all its content onto the ground. After hitting the ground, you rolled over, Sihtric's training forcing your body to move, to be ready. Before you could move further, the Saxon knelt over you, pinning you beneath him.

 Time blurred before your eyes, unable to vividly recall what happened next.  

 You remembered his hands around your throat, the weight of his body on your hips. You remembered Thyra screaming and trying to beat him off but he shoved her away again. You remembered trying to get him off, lungs shrieking, desperate for air. You remembered your mind demanding, pleading for escape. After all you had survived, after all you had endured… this could not be your end. You remembered in a last-ditch effort, grabbing the dagger you had strapped to your waist and in a Herculean attempt, stabbing him in the thigh with it. 

 Then, you escaped. 

 A crowd formed at the sight of the fight. Two men grabbed your attacker, restraining him as he snarled at you, blood dripping down his thigh. Thyra and you did not wait to see what happened next. She snagged your hand and you two raced back to her home. 

 Now, you could feel your hands shaking. You leaned back in the chair to look at them, laying in your lap. There were some droplets of blood on your skin. Either from you or him, you were not sure. 

 Your dagger was next to you on the table, cleaned off thanks to Thyra. A gift from Sihtric. When he gave it to you, he explained he hoped you never had to use it but wanted you to always have some kind of weapon on your person. Wessex was not Daneland but it still was not entirely safe. 

 This was the first time you had used it. 

 A commotion outside drew your gaze to the door just as it opened and those that you called family spilled in. Beocca led the way into his small home, grumbling and throwing glares at Uhtred and Finan, who were laughing. Osferth came next with a blush on his cheeks. Whatever they were teasing Beocca about, you doubted it was appropriate. Lastly, Sihtric walked in shaking his head. 

 Your heart thudded a rapid tattoo in your chest as your eyes met his. Those eyes that saw so much, that were clever and loyal and oh so trustworthy. A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth and with that, the air left your lungs faster than when you had been knocked to the ground. Even after all this time, he still left you breathless and giddy like a young girl with her first crush. 

 Most of all though, he made you feel safe and cherished. 

 Thyra stepped back into the main room, eyes wary and jumping from the men to you and back. She gripped a scarf in her hand but it was too late. 

 When Beocca started talking, you ripped your eyes from Sihtric, dropping your head to stare at your still trembling hands in your lap. 

 "Thyra, dear. Are you alright? We heard there was a fight in the market today."

 Before she could answer Beocca, Finan spoke, throwing himself onto a chair with a cheeky smirk. "Oh aye, we 'eard some fool started a fight with some whores and got stabbed. I'd love to find out who the whores were, perhaps see what other moves they have?" He wiggled his eyebrows making Uhtred chuckle. 

 You could not help sneaking a glance at Thyra, whose own concerned gaze met yours. Was that the story being told by those who witnessed it? 

 Then what you dreaded happened next.

 The sound of footfalls came towards you. You clasped your hands in my lap, hoping to stop the trembling, wishing there was a way to magic the bruises away. It was too late though. He knew. Somehow, he always knew when you were in trouble, or hurting or just needed him. 

 Sihtric stopped, standing right in front of you. You could see his legs and boots but you refused to look up. 

 "Look at me." He said softly, yet the command rang loudly in his words. You shook your head, tears gathering in your eyes. 

 With a tender touch that seemed counterintuitive to his warrior skills, he cupped your chin, lifting it gently. That intense gaze swept over your face, drawing answers without even asking you a question. His thumb touched your split lip, as if confirming what he was seeing was not an illusion. When those dark eyes moved lower, your breath caught in your throat. You witnessed the moment he saw the bruises on your throat. His eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, his body suddenly tense and wound up like a coil, but his touch remained soft on you.

 All the sounds of those around you vanished as he met your eyes once again. It was just him and you in this moment. 

 "Who did this to you?" 

 You flinched at the ice in his voice. Oh, this was far worse than anger. You knew of the anger that could burn through him, especially in battle. This though… the way frost practically coated his breath, the stillness that covered his body, the dead silence after his question. This was not the fire of anger so easily witnessed in others. No, this went beyond that. This was the icy depths of rage and fury. This was not something that would burn out after a quick fight. No, this lingered until the rage thawed away… only satisfied when the blood debt was paid. 

 He whispered your name, sweeping away a stray tear that escaped from your eye. "Who did this?"

 "Some drunk. It doesn't matter. We got away." You croaked out, your throat suddenly feeling swollen as if words and emotions were stuck there.

 He turned to the side, keeping his hand under your chin, baring your neck for all to see, and looked at Uhtred. "Lord… permission to hunt down this bastard and finish what he started."

 "Sihtric, no…" You whined but he ignored you. 

 Uhtred's eyes narrowed, flickering across your face and neck. "Shouldn't be that hard to hunt the bastard down. He'll be limping from a dagger to the leg."

 "Uhtred, Sihtric, no." Beocca moved to stand in front of the door. "We shall bring this matter before the king. Let him decide justice. You cannot commit murder."

 "It's not murder if I'm stopping him from attempting to kill her again!" Sihtric stated coldly, eyes narrowed, body almost vibrating in rage. "That's protection."

 "Sihtric, please, no." You clawed at him, trying to keep him with you. "Stay with me."

 Finan stood up, hands raised in an unnecessary show of surrender. "We'll find the bastard, Sihtric. We'll deal with him but not when ya eyes are seein' red, aye? Father Beocca and I can go to the king right now. Uhtred and Osferth can find that piece of shite. We won't let this happen again."

 "Please." You tried once again. At this point your voice was no more than a whisper, the dull ache transforming so it felt like someone was rubbing sandpaper against your throat. The adrenaline from earlier had drained and now exhaustion replaced it. All you wanted was for Sihtric to hold you, to stay and not race away on a man hunt for that damn drunk. "Please…. just stay with me."

 The Dane stared at you for several long moments, those dark eyes trailing a heat over your exposed skin. Finally, his hard gaze shifted to look at the men across the room. He gave a single nod, draining the tension in the room. Immediately everyone started moving, either to fulfill their duties or to escape from Sihtric's cold fury. 

 "Thyra, come with me." Beocca said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and escorting her outside. Finan and Osferth slipped out quickly with them. 

 Uhtred moved closer, eyes scanning over you. "Did he harm you anywhere else?"

 "No, lord."

 "We'll take care of this. One way or another." He said, but the last part he directed to Sihtric. You could see the understanding in Uhtred's eyes. If someone put their hands on Gisela like that, he would be out for blood…. and no one would be able to stop him. 

 "Thank you, lord." 

 After Sihtric's comment, Uhtred nodded once more to the pair of you then stormed out of the small home, presumably on his way to hunt down the man that hurt you. 

 Once alone, Sihtric whipped around, his hands cupped your face. The desperate fury and fear no longer hidden away on his face. "No one touches you. No one." He hissed out, a hand lightly trailing down your neck. 

 Many times before he had teasingly told you that the only thing to ever adorn your neck should be his lips. You had even stopped wearing any form of necklace because he would complain that it got in his way. Now seeing the bruises marring his favorite place to lavish his affection on you, you knew this only fueled his blood lust. 

 "I know. You taught me to protect myself and I did." You tried to soothe, your hands gripping the front of his tunic.  

 "I should have been there."

 "No, you were doing your duty. You were with Lord Uhtred." You paused. "This is not your fault."

 His voice dropped to a strained whisper. "I can't lose you."

 "You won't. The gods brought us together, they would not tear us apart like this."

 He pulled you against him, wrapping his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. With your head against his chest, you could feel the last of his icy rage thawed away as you sank into his embrace. 

 "I swear you're never leaving my side."

 You smiled, burrowing your head further against his chest. "I could think of worse places to be."

[angellbarnes]

Forgotten Love - part six: no longer one of them

chapter summary: the truth will set you free, if it doesn't kill you first. The team interrogates you and your past.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

words: 2.3k

warnings: language, mentions of torture, needles

A/N: sorry it's been a while but finally got around to finishing this chapter. Pls like, comment and reblog as always! :)🤍

series masterlist

You look around the blank, boxy room. Then down at your hands, where your wrists are chained to a table. Then down at your ankles, where they are chained to the chair you’re sitting on. It’s been at least thirty minutes since you were left in here by yourself, struggling in your restraints. Your breathing becomes rugged and you can’t hold down the panic rising within, no matter how hard you try. Even closing your eyes, all you see are them. In a sudden rush of emotion you manage to yank yourself free from each chain and stand, pushing the chair from behind you and sending flying back, hitting the wall and crashing to the floor. You look up to the wall opposite, noticing your disheveled reflection in the mirror, fists balled up tight. A one-way mirror, no doubt.

“No, no, no, no, no.” You repeat to yourself. Your hands fly to your hair, raking through it and grabbing while your chest heaves and your head spins. Steadying yourself with the table for a moment to calm yourself as best you can. You tread carefully towards the door but stop in your tracks, physically frozen in place as you try and place how many footsteps are heading towards you now.

There are seven of them. Three, you notice, stay at the door whilst the others carry on, presumably to whatever room is behind that mirror.

The door opens.

“What in the-” Fury begins, seeing you standing before him and noticing the mess you’d left. “Let me see your hands.” He brings up a gun that seems to glare straight at you, as if to say there’s no getting out of this. So, you show your hands.

Tony and Nat are behind him and Natasha walks to the chair that is on its side, picks it up and sets it back down at the table, then motions stoically for you to sit back down.

“Take a seat. We’re gonna be here for a while. And before you try anything stupid, don’t.” Fury states. You sit back down and suddenly notice the dryness of your mouth and throat.

The three of them now stand before you, looming over like the shadows of your past.

“There’s a lot to unpack here, so I suggest we start with whatever the hell just happened upstairs.” Tony begins. His face is forbidding, as are the others, and his arms are crossed.

You remain silent.

“This is the part where you start talking.” Your gaze shifts to meet a single, harsh eye. God knows he only needs one to get the job done.

“I-”

“What Barnes said. Was it true? Did you help torture him as the Winter Soldier?” Natasha’s voice is demanding, needing.

“No.” You say, finally mustering up a word. “Well, yes. No and yes.”

“What do you mean no and yes?” Fury leans forward on the table.

“Not exactly.”

“Cut the crap. Did you, at any point, help HYDRA in torturing Bucky?”

Silence. Then,

“Yes.” It came out as a broken whisper.

Behind the glass, Bucky takes in a sharp breath. Deep down he knew it was true, but that didn’t stop him from wanting it not to be.

Someone begins walking towards the door from the opposite room. Steve enters and switches out with Tony. Steve looks more disappointed than anything, which makes your heart ache more.

“Why? Why were you with them?”

“Steve-”

“Just answer the question.” Steve closes his eyes in exasperation, letting his head fall forward. He can barely look at you.

“I was alone, back when I joined.” You begin. “At the time I was sheltering in an abandoned warehouse that was half blown to pieces. They found me. I was vulnerable and they knew it. So they took me in, fed me, gave me a roof over my head, a proper one. I thought they were good people, at first.” You’re looking down at your lap as you speak, not wanting to risk looking anyone in the eye.

“And how do we know this isn’t some bullshit story you’ve made up to get us to sympathise with you?” Nat chimes in, brows knit together by the thread of betrayal.

“For all we know you could still be one of them. Feeding everything back to them since you got here. Is that what you’ve been doing? Gaining our trust in order to have inside information? This whole goddamn time.” Steve is angry. More than you’ve seen him before. But it’s not the kind of anger that him and Tony might share when the other gets on their nerves, no. This anger is the one that comes from deep within you, that only shows when you’ve been stabbed deep enough in the back for it to come seeping out all crimson red.

“No, it’s not like that. I’m done with HYDRA, I promise.”

“Well that promise doesn’t mean much to us.” Fury comments.

“I know. But it’s all I have.”

Fury holds his fingers up to his ear. “Hill, bring it in.” A moment after Fury’s request she is heading round and into the room. She passes him a folded piece of paper.

“This,” he begins to unfold it. “was surprisingly easy to find. Inside a book? Really?” He leans onto the table and slides the paper forwards. You are now face to face with yourself; the file page you'd retrieved from the first mission. You rub your hands together, as if hoping for a genie to appear so you could wish for this to have never happened.

“That’s not me. Well, it is me. But it’s not who I am. The person you’ve come to know since I joined this team is the real me. I’m not that person.” You look back down at the photograph of your deadened self. “Anymore.”

“Care to explain?” Nat asks.

“After a while with HYDRA, I realised that some others from the rooms near me were being taken somewhere else. I didn’t know where, though; they wouldn’t tell us. Eventually I was the only one left, and none of the others had come back yet.” Your throat is dryer than ever. “They took me to a room. A dark one. And they sat me in a chair. Strapped me down. I could hear some screams from neighbouring rooms but they dismissed it, said people were hurt and they were treating them. They were lying, of course, but at the time I was naive enough to believe them. They stuck a needle in my arm and released an acidically blue liquid into my bloodstream. At first it was excruciating. It felt as though someone was searing my veins as it moved from my arm and into my chest, then up my neck and down my torso. Then it was everywhere. My mind was so clouded with pain, until it just… stopped. I felt numb. And after that, HYDRA turned me into their own personal weapon. Because I was their success. I was the one who survived. They had used a different serum on all twelve of us, trying to find one that worked. And it finally did. At first I felt special to have been the one that survived. Proud, even. But soon it turned into something more sinister, and I realised how lucky the others were…”

The silence in the room is deafening. To a point where you have to start shuffling in your seat just to rid it. It’s hard to gage anyone’s emotions at this point. Natasha leaves, silently, without glancing back. Though she doesn’t head towards the others behind the mirror, she walks away in the opposite direction. Your heart hangs heavy in your chest with the thought of having hurt her this much.

“So, you’re telling me, the serum we found on that mission last week hasn’t just been created? They’d already figured it out and used it on you?” Steve’s question is spoken as more of a statement, everyone already knowing the answer.

“Yes.” You whisper.

“And that’s where these powers came from? The serum?”

“Yes.”

“Another supersoldier. ‘Cause we don’t have enough of those.” Fury scoffs. “And why do they always have to come from HYDRA?”

“The serum made you stronger and faster. But it doesn’t explain your extra power. Where did that come from?” Steve interrogates.

“The serum as well.” Your voice is weak and strained by guilt as you speak. “When they were recreating it they also… experimented with it. Once they knew they perfected the original serum they started tampering with additional elements and quantities. It wasn’t until me when one of them worked. The serum they’d created managed to grip on to certain sensory nerves and cells and increased the sensitivity, or… something about exteroreceptors, maybe? I can’t exactly remember the science of it all-”

“So, just like that, we’re supposed to trust you?” Steve cuts you off, his vigilant tone as unnerving as his stare.

“Send Barnes in.” Fury motions to agent Hill, who exits the room, only to return with him: the one person you thought could get you out of this situation.

Bucky keeps his head down, making sure to avoid any eye contact. You desperately want to yell the truth at everyone - the whole truth - but you know that wouldn’t be wise. Especially since they’re already sceptical of everything that’s coming from your deceiving lips. They would never believe that. He would never believe it.

Not until he remembers it all.

“Bucky, do you know if this is the truth?” Hill cautiously asks him.

“No.”

“No, you don’t know, or no, it isn’t the truth?” Fury inquires.

“No, I don’t know.” He states, finally looking up and meeting your gaze. You can see the hurt in his eyes. It’s evident that these newly found memories haven’t treated him well. Especially since he’d started to take a liking to you, which he never let be known. He didn’t know what to make of it when he began to feel a strange, but strong, pull towards you. As if there was some invisible string that was pulling, connecting, the two of you together.

It frayed and snapped as soon as he remembered.

But knowing that he’d felt it in the first place makes his head hurt all the more.

“So, number 12, what is your real name?” Fury looks straight into your eyes, almost burning through your skull with his intensity.

“And don’t even think about lying to us again.” Steve snarls. You hesitate for a moment, drawing heavy breaths.

“My real name- my real name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Let’s put it to the test, shall we?” Fury proposes.

A few moments later, you’re being hooked up to a lie detector by Bruce. He then sits diagonal to you with the polygraph machine in front of him.

“We’re set.” He states.

“Perfect. Let’s get started, shall we?” Tony is now back in the room. A full house.

They don’t hesitate with the questions, getting straight into it, yes or no.

“Before you joined this team, were you a HYDRA agent?” Hill begins with. There is no way for you to escape this, no stopping the rollercoaster from plunging down as you reach the top.

“Yes.”

“An assassin?”

“Yes.”

“Do you still work for them?” Steve’s turn.

“No.”

“Do you still associate yourself with them in any way?”

“No.”

“Are you in contact with them?” Tony asks.

“No.”

“Do you plan on going back to them? Becoming one of them again?” Steve begins again.

“No.” You answer through gritted teeth now.

“Bruce?” Fury chimes in, and all heads turn to him, as he reads the coloured lines on the paper.

“She’s telling the truth so far.” He confirms.

The questions, the interrogating, it continues for several more minutes. Questions like: Are you loyal to this team? Are you really here to make good of your past? Is that life with HYDRA over for good?

Yes, yes, and yes.

“Did you assist in the torture of a Seargent James Barnes whilst you were a part of HYDRA?” Fury reads from a sheet, making sure to leave no stone unturned. A stone that it feels as if he just threw at your stomach. You force your eyes upwards and to Bucky’s, brimming with sadness.

“Yes.” Your answer feels so sour against your tongue. You pry your eyes away and they fall to the floor once more.

“All true.” Bruce confirms once more.

“But-”

“Last question.” Fury walks forward. “How did you manage to get through our system, without us finding any trace of who you really are?” He speaks slowly, deeply, sounding like he has gravel in his throat.

“The old me was classed as dead. I had nothing to my name, not even a life. And HYDRA didn’t make it their first priority to give me one. So, technically I was no one. It wasn’t that hard to create a completely new person. A clean slate, if you will.”

Everyone’s faces are stern, yet utterly mindfucked. No one knows what to think. Fury stands tall and motions his head to the door whilst looking at the others. Everyone exits the room in a disappointed silence.

Bucky is the last to leave. He stands, with his arms crossed and brows furrowed, directly in front of where you sit. The prolonged eye-contact is laced with an unknown, but oddly familiar,  tension.

“Bucky, I-” As soon as you begin to speak he follows after the others and shuts and locks the door behind him.

Once again, you’re left with just yourself in the vacant room, besides the company of the chair, table and your infinite, anxiety-ridden thoughts of what the hell is going to happen to you now.

��••

Taglist:

@buckysjuicyplums @901seconds @walkwithfluffyangels @infernal-fire @ohashley101 @mrs-fanfiction-2001 @buckys2thicc @freigeistundanderes

[mythicamagic]

Sesskag Week: Day 2 ‘Black’

Title: Under the Nails

Summary: After 500 years, Sesshoumaru comes looking for the miko Kagome in her era, wondering why she never returned to the past. What he finds plunges him into bleak despair...and causes Tenseiga to stir. Sesskag Week Day 2 - Black.

Rated T

Words: 2,600

Read on: Ao3, fanfiction.net or Dokuga

AN: For Sesskag Week Day 2 - Black (Mourning & Misfortune) a lotta angst in this one so buckle up.

Under the Nails

Heaviness weighed his steps down like his pockets were laden with stones, heart steeled, eyes on the top of Higurashi Shrine's steps.

Sesshoumaru forced his hands to remain loose at his sides, fighting the urge to rip off his glamour and fly. Soar above the concrete straight to their door.

But Sesshoumaru remained polite and wretchedly slow, human in appearance only. He dutifully climbed the stairs, walking with measured, frustrating steps.

Adjusting his tie upon reaching the Higurashi's door, he knocked, shifting.

Kagome's home looked just as it had many years ago- when he'd first located her again. He'd glimpsed her 3-year-old self, before turning away, satisfied that after 500 years of waiting, he had finally reached her era.

He could finally gain the answers he'd sought for so long.

Curious though, that her scent did not reach his nose. Various stale shades of it clung to a few things outside, but it did not feel vibrant, recent.

When her mother opened the door, brown eyes glassy and vacant, deep stress lines beneath them and grief clinging to her like a second skin, Sesshoumaru knew.

He knew it as instinctively as drawing breath.

No.

"...Don't tell me," Mrs Higurashi put a hand to her mouth, gaze flickering over his face searchingly. "You're not Sesshoumaru, are you?"

The tears filling her eyes worsened the ocean roar in his ears.

He could not answer, expression cracking open.

She quickly took his hand in a tight grip, squeezing it. "I'm so sorry. She talked about you- I-I'm probably not making much sense-"

"Where is she?" the question fell softly from his lips, not a demand like he'd initially wanted. His strength fled, instincts snarling, but limping, wounded. They detested everything her mood signalled, causing his heart to shrivel.

Watery brown eyes slid away, squeezing shut. She couldn't look at him when answering. "She's dead. I-it happened two weeks ago," her words trembled. "I'm so sorry."

Why are you sorry? It is not as though you killed her, Sesshoumaru thought dazedly.

"Two weeks?" he repeated numbly, voice a pale rasp.

He'd missed her. Miscalculated.

Kagome had returned to the Feudal Era at 18. She'd tried and failed to sustain a romance with Inuyasha, living as a village miko for a while before travelling. That was how they'd come to be unlikely companions. A demon lord and his miko. By the end of the year, they'd been lovers. At the end of another- a date had been set for their wedding and subsequent mating.

With an easy smile, Kagome left down the Bone Eater's Well just one week prior until they were to be wed, wanting the reassurance of her mother's arms since her family could not join them.

And she'd never returned.

Inuyasha couldn't cross through, as the magic had seemingly run dry once more. They'd waited many, many, many years, hoping it would grant access again. Fate would not permit it.

Sesshoumaru sank to his knees in the threshold of the doorway. "I missed her by two weeks...after waiting 500 years," he chuckled without humour, the backs of his eyes stinging. A gut-punch of emotion rendered him paper-thin. The roar in his ears became a drawling howl of despair. This couldn't be.

Mrs Higurashi knelt with him, sliding her arms around his shoulders and hugging him close. The demon lord remained stiff and unyielding, reeling with bitter shock. He stared ahead sightlessly, before jerking in her arms. He suddenly gripped her tight, pulling away to look her straight in the eye.

"Mrs Higurashi, the funeral-"

"We've already had it," she said gently.

Sharp teeth flashed in a silent snarl, desperation clawing at his tongue. "Not that. Tell me-" he choked out, blunt nails elongating into claws, biting into her clothing.

"Tell me, was Kagome cremated or buried?"

---

He hadn't thought he would have cause to use it again. Kagome getting mixed up in a car accident much like her father before her had certainly changed his assumptions.

Sesshoumaru's throat burned as he walked by some lonely graves.

Approaching one headstone situated closely beside another in the graveyard, Sesshoumaru spared the second a glance.

"It is far too early for her to be joining you," he rumbled, turning away from Mr Higurashi.

Sunset highlighted sparse, lonely surroundings upon the quiet hill in a fiery orange glow, a red plume painting across the sky.

Sesshoumaru felt his black heart clenching as he knelt before the characters of Kagome Higurashi's name, elongating his fingers into talons. He thrust them into the earth, beginning to dig.

He could've transformed, it would've made the process easier, but a part of him wished for penance after failing her. He'd failed his prospective mate. She never should've died. If he'd just gotten there sooner-

A claw chipped, but Sesshoumaru continued. His hands became caked in dirt, powerful arms moving, muscles coiling to discard the clumps of earth quicker and quicker. He began to sink deeper, willingly descending into the same grave his beloved rested within.

By the time the ground loomed above Sesshoumaru's head on all sides- the sky a rectangular shape above, his clothes had become ruined with mud, brown patches covering his fine suit that he'd worn for the occasion, some dirt marring his sweat coated forehead and cheek.

'Thud!'

Sesshoumaru paused, knuckles having connected with something sturdy.

Panting, moisture stung his eyes. Wiping pebbling dirt away, Sesshoumaru unearthed the sleek brown casket.

"Thank you," he'd whispered into Mrs Higurashi's shoulder, clutching her so tight her bones protested. "Thank you for not cremating her."

Apparently her husband had been foreign, so it felt only right to leave Kagome in the earth, resting beside her Father's grave in the same manner he'd been buried.

Straddling smooth wood, Sesshoumaru flexed his dirt-laden nails, swiping at the secures. Once they were broken off, he stood, grasping one side.

Bracing himself, Sesshoumaru willed his stomach to hold. He tried to summon his old ironclad nerves. His thick skin. The warlord who had seen and smelled plenty of bodies.

Sesshoumaru cracked open the casket, immediately hit with a foul odour.

Choking, he opened it a little further, eyes burning.

The sight of her would be burned into the backs of his retinas forever, and Sesshoumaru knew he shouldn't have looked. Shouldn't have tortured himself thus, but he'd also needed to.

This was the cost of failure. Never let it happen again.

His stomach buckled, and Sesshoumaru clamped a hand over his mouth, shuddering violently. He swallowed a gag, clenching his jaw.

Yanking the casket cover from its hinges, Sesshoumaru tossed it high out of the grave, ripping Tenseiga out of its sheath at his hip while standing over her decaying body.

Letting his glamour melt from his features, golden eyes blazed, silver hair hanging limp and dishevelled. Youki burst into the blade, forcing it to awaken from its centuries-long sleep.

"Kagome," he rasped. "Revive Kagome," he commanded, the blade shining with a bright blue light.

His vision relaxed in order to see the spirits, but alarm clutched his heart.

The pallbearers were nowhere in sight. They'd long since made off with her soul, leaving behind a trail of chains.

With a deafening snarl that tore at his windpipe, Sesshoumaru thrust his free hand down, grasping a chain and pulling with all his might.

Something heavy out of sight made the chain yank taunt- filling him with hazy relief as he dared to hope he wasn't too late.

Clutching one side of Tenseiga's blade between his teeth, Sesshoumaru grasped the chains with both hands, reeling them back in toward him.

He could not see whatever it was he dragged back, the light Tenseiga cast into the spiritual plain only allowing him to see where the chains disappeared to a few feet in front of him.

A good length of slack metal chains had coiled at his feet by the time an outline was dragged into his vision. Kagome's soul still retained her body's appearance, lashes shut. It had a ghostly white glow, motionless. Chains wrapped around her midsection and torso. He quickly dragged her in closer.

Angry pallbearers yelled at Sesshoumaru, clutching onto her sides and hissing. They tried tugging her back in the opposite direction.

With a bellowing snarl, he savagely decapitated them with a swing from Tenseiga.

"I have not come this far only to be stopped by the likes of you," he sneered. Shifted down, Sesshoumaru wrapped an arm gently around her soul, only able to feel a very light sensation. His throat ignited with a harsh burn, eyes pricking, chest tight as he placed it back inside her body, pulling the chains away.

Tenseiga's blue glow faded. Kagome's body healed, the effects and smell of decomposition fading away until she lay as though asleep, flesh unblemished.

Silence deafened the grave.

Sesshoumaru panted softly, heart hammering. His entire being flared with an all-consuming buzz, an unanswered cry. His skin thrummed, hungry for her touch. He needed to hear her voice- he hadn't heard its playful, teasing lift in so long. If she wanted to sing badly or argue with him again, that was fine. He didn't care. Anything was better than this silence.

And why wasn't she opening her eyes? She'd had such lovely, captivating blue eyes.

"Miko," he gritted out, kneeling over her. "Kagome. Kagome…" her name fell from his lips like a mantra. He dropped the sword, gathering her into his arms, dipping his face into curling black hair. She felt so cold. Why was she cold?

Kagome had always been warm, glowing so bright and strong. His priestess had carried the force of a thousand suns in her palms when reiki had exploded from them. And at night… her breath had been hot and ragged on his neck as she'd careened them over the edge, moving atop his lap with fervour.

Sesshoumaru bent into her, arching her back and gripping her so tight he feared she may break.

"Please," he choked out, her hair becoming damp. He'd scarcely begged for anything before, but he prayed in that moment, the fabric of his soul screaming.

He felt it when her chest expanded.

Kagome drew a terrible, choking breath, gasping loudly like she'd been deprived of oxygen. Sesshoumaru immediately pulled away, eyes widening as she fell into a coughing fit, shuddering against him.

Her eyes squeezed shut, a hand lifting to massage the base of her throat.

"Ah… crap, what the heck? When was the last time I drank something?"

Blue eyes pried open to blink up at him, halting his breath.

Recognition softened her features. "Oh, hey you," she smiled, before blinking, gaze straying over his features. "Have you been crying? Why are you covered in dirt?"

Her attention threatened to stray to their surroundings but Sesshoumaru clamped his hands onto the sides of her face, colliding their mouths together.

He poured five hundred years of repressed feeling into that kiss, hand curling in dark hair to cradle the back of her neck. Kagome squeaked but accepted the feverish kisses, tongue meeting his and brushing.

"Wait-" she managed out between kisses. "I- how are you here?" her hands smoothed over his shoulders, touching his shirt. "Did you come through the well?"

Sesshoumaru gathered her close, standing from the casket. Kagome grew stiff in his arms.

"That's a...casket. This is a-" she broke off, breathing becoming thin. "Oh God- oh fuck- what the fuck?!"

Leaping out from the grave, Sesshoumaru landed on soft grass, collapsing to his knees and cradling Kagome on his lap, rocking slightly. He wasn't certain if the motion was to comfort her or himself. She made awful, wailing noises, choking on broken sobs. However after a little while, she swallowed the cries enough to cup his face.

"What- what happened?" she choked out. "You're here."

"I'm here."

He tried his best to explain everything- her departure and subsequent lack of return to the past. The rest were things Mrs Higurashi told him, such as her collision with another vehicle and few hours spent in the hospital unconscious before damaged organs finally failed her.

"I-I remember coming home and driving but nothing else," Kagome gripped him tight. "The Bone Eaters Well...is shut? I can't go through it to see my friends again?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"And you waited all this time," she mumbled, shuddering. "Alone."

"The kit and Inuyasha still live," Sesshoumaru felt her stiffen, stroking her head. "Inuyasha mated a full demon, extending his lifespan, while the kit is enjoying his bachelorhood right now."

Kagome closed her eyes, letting out a shuddering exhale. "That's something at least. I'm glad they're alive."

Too much to absorb all at once. Sesshoumaru no longer wished to discuss such things while beside her grave. He stood while lifting her in his arms, leaving the grave. Kagome glanced over his shoulder, panic and deep, static despair roaming around her scent.

"I was...buried. In there," she said softly, resting her clammy forehead against his neck. "T-thank you," she quivered, "thank you for coming to get me. I'm nowhere near ready to die yet."

"It was this one's failure that resulted in your death in the first place, miko. Do not thank me for attempting to right a wrong that should never have happened."

"What are you talking about?" Kagome's thumb brushed the shell of his pointed ear, reminding him to don the glamour before they left the graveyard. "It was no one's fault, Sesshoumaru. So you got the time wrong- big deal. Calendars change and it would've been hard to take different leap years into account. Besides, I should've been a more careful driver if we're gonna start laying blame," she offered a weak smile, which dropped when he did not respond.

Kagome leaned up within his arms, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. "Hey," she gently gained his attention, pressing another there, and then another.

Sesshoumaru returned her kisses softly, before tightening his grip, crushing her body against his. His mouth became an urgent pressure against hers, stealing her breath with ardent brushes of his tongue. He cradled her close possessively, trembling.

When they finally pulled away, a little breathless, Kagome rested her forehead against his. "After we see my family, let's go to your place. I don't want to wait any longer than I have to."

He blinked, tilting his head slightly. "For what?"

"To mate you, duh," she smiled, running a reverent thumb beneath his eye, lingering over the tired lines there. "You've waited 500 years after all."

"Kagome, you just awoke from death, and yet you are already planning on dragging me into the bedroom?" surprised exasperation lightened his worn expression, a film covering his eyes. Fondness. Love. Relief to be talking with her again. His strange, painfully unique human woman.

Kagome peppered butterfly kisses over his face, running them down his neck and feeling him purr against her in a way that belied how truly touch starved he was. But she could sense it. See it, from how he leaned slightly into the brush of her lips.

"Let's just say, I could really use a warm body against mine right now," she murmured, everything she didn't want to say left lingering in the air.

The phantom sensation of being locked beneath the ground would remain for a while; long after Sesshoumaru washed the dirt from Kagome's grave out from under his nails.

As they left the gravesite behind, they clung viciously tight to each other, never once looking back.

End

[antebunny]

April 30: rebirth

(Also called Bargaining–idea is taken from an old Loki fic with the same time travel premise).

When Jiang Yanli dies, Wei Wuxian goes into denial and just runs from Nightless City. He goes back to the Burial Mounds and feverishly works on a time travel array. Within the month he completes it and prepares to travel back in time, but there’s a catch. He first activates the array and then spends the next several hours going through the ritual, while outside the Siege of the Burial Mounds begins. The Wens know what Wei Wuxian is up to so they understand why he’s not bothering to protect them. He completes the ritual just as Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan burst into the cave. They’re both there, at the front, in order to protect Wei Wuxian, but by the time they arrive it’s too late: the array is fading and Wei Wuxian is already dead. He barely sees them in the entrance when he dies, which leads him to (logical) conclusion that they’re there to kill him.

Here’s the catch: Wei Wuxian gets to go back, rewrite time, and change things. He decides to go back to the day before he got kicked out of the Cloud Recesses. But when time finally arrives at the time he activates the array, everyone gets their memories back. Although a lot of people will remember dying, it’s preferable to actually dying. Then Wei Wuxian has to conduct the ritual again, to ensure that this is the future that stays, and seal the deal with his own life. Basically, in order to change the future Wei Wuxian has to die. And obviously because he's Wei Wuxian, he decides that that’s okay so long as everyone gets to live.

So Wei Wuxian comes back to life with a golden core and cries for a solid minute, scaring tf out of Jiang Cheng, before he gets a grip. Then he proceeds to yell at Jin Zixuan, not get kicked out, and live life like everything’s normal. He enjoys the next six months of peace, and then he gets to work. Once the year is over, he goes on a very long night hunting trip, kills the Xuanwu of Slaughter, and sets up the cave for use. A year later and they’re at the archery competition, where Wei Wuxian still places first, meets Wen Ning again, and doesn’t pull off Lan Zhan’s forehead ribbon.

Then Wen Ruohan is ~mysteriously~ assassinated and the Wens declare war on all the sects in revenge. When the Wens come for Lotus Pier, there’s no personal vendetta, and Wei Wuxian hides in the shadows and drowns all of them. Then he pretends that he got knocked out and was unconscious somewhere hidden from the main battle where Jiang Cheng finds him. They win the war, and Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan are still alive and bickering with each other, the Jiang sect is still strong, etc. etc. Wei Wuxian personally hunts down Wen Zhuliu early in the war, before he can cause any damage. Then he also kills Jin Guangshan, blames it on the Wens (does it make sense? No. does anyone care? No) and Jin Zixuan commits fully to the war. Jin Zixuan learns to appreciate Jiang Yanli during the war, and since they’re already engaged they get married soon afterwards. Jin Guangyao gets taken in as Jin Zixuan’s younger brother, and since Jin Zixuan is a decent person who doesn’t want him to commit crimes but also needs Help, it goes a lot better. Meanwhile Wei Wuxian finds the DafanWen and they move to the Xuanwu cave, which Wei Wuxian has prepared. Also the carcass of the tortoise should scare anyone away.

Wei Wuxian sticks around to see his sister get married, takes Lan Zhan on a tour of Lotus Pier, at the end of which Lan Zhan proposes. Wei Wuxian is confused but figures that Lan Wangji must like this version of him that hasn’t used resentful energy as far as Lan Wangji knows or recused the Wens as far as he knows, or done any of the things that Other Lan Zhan hated him for. The Wens ask him to adopt A-Yuan, which he does after talking about it with Lan Zhan and after they get married. So now Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are married and they have an adopted child. That part was all the fluff and fix-it, cue the angst. The date of Wei Wuxian’s death draws near, and Wei Wuxian starts getting moody and antsy, starts drinking. Yu Ziyuan yells at him, of course, and everyone else worries over him. It is during one of these blackout drunk sessions that Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji that he fully expects Lan Wangji to regret marrying him in the future. Lan Wangji swears up and down that he won’t, and Wei Wuxian kinda critiques himself and calls himself selfish, for marrying Lan Wangji and raising a kid when he knows it’s not going to last.

Basically Wei Wuxian starts getting skittish and disappears for periods of time to the Burial Mounds, where he acquires enough injuries that Lan Wangji suspects that someone is hurting him, which Wei Wuxian vehemently denies, but Lan Wangji is still Onto him. He goes to Jiang Yanli, who says that Wei Wuxian has been acting differently ever since he came back from the Cloud Recesses, seemed to know things that were going to happen before they did, disappears at odd times and incidents that occur when Wei Wuxian is missing, and they get Jiang Cheng, who recalls that one time Wei Wuxian woke up in the middle of the night and just bawled, and after that didn’t lose his temper on Jin Zixuan, pulled back on his most crazy antics.

Still, none of them suspect the exact day, so on that day, Wei Wuxian gets up, tells Lan Wangji he’s going to train the Jiang juniors, and then just…disappears. Night comes and Lan Wangji is already worried, according to the juniors he never showed. Yu Ziyuan accuses him of slacking, but then Lan Wangji barges in crying, holding a note. In it, Wei Wuxian doesn’t tell him about the time travel, but says that Wei Wuxian is going forever, and Lan Wangji will understand why tomorrow. He understands that it’s too much to wish for that Lan Wangji won’t hate him, after how selfish he’s been and what a terrible person he’s been, marrying Lan Wangji and pretending it can last, but he hopes Lan Wangji can still look back and remember him fondly in the future. He apologizes again and tells Lan Wangji again that he didn’t mean to tarnish Lan Wangji’s reputation or saddle him with a child, but A-Yuan is here now and he knows Lan Wangji loves A-Yuan. He leaves a similar cryptic note for Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, apologizing to all of them for things they don’t understand.

Lan Zhan immediately begins searching for him all through the night, and then in the morning everyone blacks out and suddenly has memories of a different past couple of years, for most people starting with Wen Ruohan getting assassinated. People don’t immediately suspect the Yiling Patriarch, because they think he was simply never created in this timeline, and lives as Head Disciple Jiang and Lan Wangji’s husband, but Wei Wuxian’s family know better. They immediately rush to the Burial Mounds, and find it guarded by corpses. Inside the cave, Wei Wuxian begins conducting the ritual, also crying because he really had a happy life this time and he really really doesn’t want to go, but he can’t bear to revert to the original timeline, not when everyone is still alive here, so he continues. Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian find out about the whole yiling patriarch thing and jiang yanli is just like…i don’t care. Jin Guangshan is dead and can’t care, Jin Guangyao doesn’t have a vendetta, Jin Zixuan does what his wife says, and Jiang Yanli is alive so Jiang Cheng has no beef, plus he sees the lengths Wei Wuxian went through to save everyone. He also understands the letter now, then he and Jiang Yanli confront Lan Wangji like…do you no longer love him? Lan Wangji of course reacts poorly to this accusation and denies it. They leave A-Yuan behind and go to the Mounds with the intention of convincing Wei Wuxian that he doesn’t have to run away and they want him back.

They arrive in the cave just as Wei Wuxian is finishing with the ritual. But of course, parallels, Wei Wuxian looks up to see them standing in the entrance of the cave and thinks that they’re there to kill him, but also can see how distressed Lan Wangji looks and attempts to reassure him that he doesn’t have to kill Wei Wuxian! You know, his husband in this timeline! Because Wei Wuxian will do it himself! Wei Wuxian makes them fight some corpses while he rushes to finish the ritual, because they seem keen on stopping him (“i know you disapprove of demonic cultivation but this is the only way to save everyone”). Lan Wangji tackles him away from his ceremonial knife, and Wei Wuxian fights back (still has golden core!) they both fight desperately (“i have to do it myself Lan Zhan, otherwise I would let you do it”) over the knife. Jiang Cheng insists that there must be another solution, bc he doesn’t want Jiang Yanli to die. Then Wen Qing and Wen Ning walk into the cave, and Wen Qing like the genius she is, proposes the Alternate Solution. (What is it? Idk. just a magic solution in which Wei Wuxian doesn’t have to die). Wei Wuxian pauses in the middle of fighting Lan Wangji (“i don’t have to die?” he asks while Lan Wangji is busy shattering the knife and then he and Jiang Cheng pin him down so he can stop trying to kill himself in front of them. “Nope,” says Wen Qing, the only person with brains here). So Wei Wuxian sits on the floor of the cave, tied with deity-binding thread (Wei Wuxian: let me go Lan Wangji: not until you promise to go with wen qing’s version of the ritual Jiang Cheng: unless…do you want to leave? Wei Wuxian: no!) (What’s the solution? Maybe all of them sacrifice something important to them, maybe they just…all use their power to BS their way through a solution? Again, I don’t know).

So Lan Wangji unties Wei Wuxian and they hug and kiss and they all head back to Lotus Pier, where they eat a celebratory dinner, and reunite with A-Yuan, and Wei Wuxian celebrates the fact that he can live this happy life and not owe the world anything/need to go through the ritual.

The End!

[zeldan7]

Forever (Solomon x GN! Reader)

So I, er, I decided to write a nice little piece of angst based on Solomon's new UR+ animation o.O

Pairing: Solomon x GN! Reader

Warnings: Death, Blood, Mental Anguish

Word Count: 1668

During your short time in the Devildom you’d managed to become really close with your fellow students. Especially Solomon. In fact, you spent most of your time with him, much to the demon brothers’ dismay. You’d actually developed a bit of a crush on the sorcerer, not that you’d ever tell him.

One Wednesday, after your classes, Solomon invited you to Purgatory Hall for a movie night with him, Simeon, and Luke. After sending a quick text to the demon brothers chat to let them know, you followed Solomon back. You couldn’t help but notice how his hand kept brushing against yours. You thought it was most likely an accident at first, but after the eighth time you grew suspicious. Making a split-second decision, you gently intertwined your fingers with his. Nothing changed in his calm demeanour, but he now had an adorable smile plastered on his face as he gripped your hand tighter.

You remained that way all the way back to Purgatory Hall, only separating to let Solomon open the door. As soon as it shut behind you, he took up your hand again, grinning at you. You gazed up into his agate eyes, feeling a fluttering in your chest. Judging by Solomon’s facial expression, he felt it, too.

“Y/N…”

“Oh, Solomon, you’re back!” Simeon cried, suddenly appearing in the doorway. “Hello, Y/N!”

Surprisingly, Solomon kept your hand in his as he turned to face the angel. “Hey, Simeon. Y/N’s here for a movie night with us.”

Simeon looked between the two of you, then down at your clasped hands. “Unfortunately, Luke and I are quite busy tonight, so we’ll be unable to attend.”

The corner of Solomon’s mouth twitched up in a smirk. “That’s a shame, we’ll have to have another some time.”

Simeon simply shot him a knowing smile before leaving the two of you alone once more.

“Shall we?” Solomon asked, leading the way to his room.

He’d obviously been expecting you to accept his invitation, since his room was already prepared for a movie night. A small string of fairy lights hung over the headboard, and his bed was entirely covered in pillows and cushions of varying shapes and sizes. For the first time since you’d met him, Solomon looked sheepish.

“I… I was hoping you’d say yes.”

In response, you launched yourself on to the bed, burying yourself in the cushions. Solomon chuckled, climbing in next to you.

You stayed up until the early hours of the morning watching movies and chatting until you felt your eyes growing heavy. Without thinking, you placed your head on Solomon’s shoulder. You just had time to feel his arm wrap around you and his lips press against your head before you fell asleep, and he wasn’t far behind you.

It had been a week since your night with Solomon, and by now everyone knew you were a couple. It was rare for you to return to the House of Lamentation without your lover, but you’d promised the brothers you’d spend some time with just them. After an evening filled with card games and fun, you retired to your room. Or that was your intention, at least. As you ascended the stairs you heard a voice calling out for help. Quickly, you sprinted upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

You were surprised to find a heavy-looking door sealing off an attic room.

“Please – you have to help me get out!” The black and white-haired man stared at you; eyes full of desperation.

“Of course!” You cried, placing your hands on the door, searching for a handle. Before you could even begin, there was a blinding light. When you opened your eyes, the door was gone, and you were inside the room with the man.

“Thank you so much – uh, I didn’t catch your name?” He was clearly excited to be free, and you wondered how long he’d been stuck there.

You gave him a friendly smile. “I’m Y/N, the human exchange student!”

His face crinkled up in disgust before he lunged at you, lifting you up by the throat and cutting off your air.

“Humans killed my sister.” He growled.

You tried to fight him off, but he was far too strong. The last thing you saw was his sick, twisted grin before everything went black.

“Solomon?”

“Yes?” It was strange for one of the demon brothers to phone him. Stranger still for it to be Lucifer, sounding panicked no less.

“There’s been… an incident.”

“Lucifer, it’s not like you to struggle with words, is everyone alright?”

“No, I-“ Lucifer sighed. “Solomon, I need you at the House of Lamentation. Now.”

“Of course, I was hoping to drop by to see Y/N, anyway.”

Lucifer made a strangled sound before the line went dead.

“Belphegor…” Solomon growled, throwing himself at the demon only to be stopped by Lucifer. The brothers were shocked; Solomon was always so calm, they’d never seen him lose it. Especially not like this. Suddenly, the sorcerer stills, and Lucifer sees fit to set him free. Fists balled at his sides, Solomon took a deep breath, glaring daggers at the Avatar of Sloth. The ground started shaking, and the brothers all shared a look of alarm. Pictures began to fly off the walls as Solomon closed his eyes, clenching his fists hard enough to draw blood. The whole house was groaning and shuddering, and yet it was taking no damage. That was, until Solomon’s eyes snapped open, focussing on the demon before him. Cracks appeared in the floor around his feet, and panicked flashed across his face.

“Solomon!” Asmo shouted, but he wasn’t listening. Rage flowed through him, enough even to rival Satan on one of his bad days. Just as the floor looked like it would swallow Belphegor whole, something solid slammed into Solomon, knocking him to the floor and breaking his concentration.

“Beelzebub, what do you think you’re doing?!” Solomon yelled, the house’s shaking coming to an abrupt halt.

“He’s my brother.” Beel said, solemnly.

“He killed Y/N!” Solomon’s anger was beginning to subside, replaced by a sorrow so intense his chest ached. He’d never experienced anything quite like this in all his years.

“Beel,” Lucifer finally spoke. “Get Belphie out of here.”

Solomon knelt next to you, bent over and crying. Hands sprawled out over you, he tried spell after spell hoping one might bring you back. Over and over, he repeated different incantations until he finally collapsed from exhaustion. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see a pair of blue eyes full of concern.

“They’re gone, ya know. It hurts, it hurts so bad, and it ain’t fair, but they wouldn’t want ya torturin’ yourself like this.”

Mammon’s words touched the sorcerer, and he forced a small smile in response, accepting his hug.

It was too much for Solomon to handle. He’d faced loss before, of course (you didn’t get to be thousands of years old without losing loved ones) but none had hurt like this. Everyone had finally left after the ceremony, and it was just you and him now. The smell of freshly dug soil assaulted his nostrils, and it took all his strength to not retch. Rain pelted his back, drenching his clothes, but he didn’t care. What he did care about was you. You couldn’t be gone, it didn’t make sense. What if you were still alive? What if you’d been buried while still breathing?! Vain hope won out over rationality. He started digging through the mud with nothing but his bare hands. The rain made it clumpy, but he was determined. He dug and dug until his fingers were bleeding, and yet he had barely made any progress. Shouting up at the Heavens, he collapsed into the small indent he had made. He knew it was too late. He knew you were gone.

One Year Later

“Hey, Y/N,” Solomon kneeled next to your grave, clutching on to a small bouquet of flowers. “I saw these today, and I thought of you. I know irises are – were… your favourite. I never got to bring you any when you were still here, so…”

He carefully arranged the flowers in the centre of your headstone as tears started to spill over his eyelids.

“I hope wherever you are is as charming as your smile.” He had no idea where you were; he’d spent the last year searching both the Devildom and the Celestial Realm with no luck.

“Belphegor claims he’s sorry, but… I’ve been unable to tolerate his presence for more than a few moments. I’m sorry, too, Y/N. I should have been there. Perhaps you’d – you’d still be here…” He trailed off as a sudden sob choked him. Solomon didn’t cry often, and yet he’d shed more tears in the last year than he had in his whole life. You’d left a huge hole, and you’d taken a part of him with you when you left.

“Y/N, I’d like to think I’ll see you again, but I have my doubts.”

He’d been increasingly reckless since you’d passed, attempting untested magic, wandering the Devildom alone at night, even heading into a Reaper’s Cave. He’d always been fond of his immortality, but he was finally seeing it for what it was: a curse.

“Maybe I’ll find you one day… my love. I regret that I never got the chance to tell you how I feel; it’s something I’ll regret for as long as I live.”

Solomon took a deep breath, beginning to tremble.

“I love you, Y/N. I always will – that won’t ever change, no matter how much time may pass. Each day without you feels unbearable. I’d give anything to see your smile just one more time. I miss you more and more with each day that goes by. I’m so sorry I couldn’t – I couldn’t save you…”

He turned his gaze skyward, just in time to feel raindrops mix with his salty tears.

“I love you so much, Y/N. Forever.”

[ducky-moo]

I’ve Got You

A/N This totally sucks ass so I’m probably gonna re-write it at some point but its literally 7 in the morning and I’ve been writing this since like 4 am so ??? I’m done w it for now lol

       “Barry!!” You yelled as the speedster was knocked to the ground. The two of you had been fighting a shapeshifting meta-human, and it was honestly kicking the crap out of the both of you. Warm light filled the room as you blasted the meta with starlight, leaving the tips of your fingers tingling.

       You couldn’t figure out for the life of you what you and Barry were doing wrong. This meta was always a step ahead, but why? As you continued to blast it, it fought its way towards you, throwing objects at you as it went. Once it was close enough, it used its telekinesis to throw you back against a wall. Your head cracked against it, and you could feel warm blood dripping down your head. A groan passed your lips as you tried to focus on the meta in front of you. 

       “You...Psychoshine...” The meta’s voice came out in a low growl. You heard static in your ears.

       “Y/n!! Y/n! Stay with us!” Cisco sounded panicked as he shouted at you through your comms, and you winced.

       “You will always lose, Psychoshine.” You tried to fight your way out of the meta’s powers, but his hold on you was too strong as he approached. You let out a yell of pain as he tightened the grip on you. “You always lose, don’t you? You could never win...no matter how hard you tried.” Slowly, he started shifting before your eyes, into someone familiar.

       “You could never win their love...even though you did everything in your power to try...you were never enough...never good enough...” He had shifted into your parents, and you felt a pit rising from your stomach, until it became a knot in your throat. You struggled again, only to be greeted with a hand to your neck.

       “Y/n!! Y/N!! Barry, get up!! Come on Barry, he’s going to kill her!”

       “Failure after failure after failure...you couldn’t take it, could you? You almost lost to yourself that night...Oh the tragic irony...” 

       “H-how-” you choked out. Suddenly, he was in your head. In every memory, standing in the corner, watching. He was there. It all made sense now, why you couldn’t beat him. He, like you and Cisco, had mental powers. He knew both yours and Barry’s weaknesses before you even had the chance to land a hit.

       “Barry!”

       “Running is a coward’s choice...” Suddenly, you felt a jolt of electricity, and the meta was on the ground twenty feet away. You fell to the floor, gasping for breath as you watched Barry continue to fight the meta. 

       “Y/n! Are you okay?”

       Shame, guilt, and panic filled your chest instead of the air you were trying so desperately to draw in. You could hear Cisco panicking on the other end of the comms, but you just couldn’t face him right now. 

       “Y/n?!”

       You reached up to your ears and disconnected the comm, and then your tracker along with it. As soon as you could get to your feet, you were out of the building, running somewhere far from there. Anywhere but there.

       “Y/n?!” Cisco’s voice was panicked as he tried to talk to you through the comms. You had just taken a dire hit, and from what he could tell, the meta attacking you was playing mind games. He couldn’t believe he didn’t figure it out sooner. He was pissed that he had to find out at your expense, that the reason they could never catch this meta was because he was inside their heads. Inside your head. All at once, the line went dead and your tracker disconnected. Cisco’s eyes widened in fear. He no longer had eyes on you, he couldn’t contact you. He was completely in the dark.

       “Caitlin! Caitlin she’s gone! She disconnected everything, I don’t know where she went!”

 “We have to find her, she got hit hard. She could have a concussion, or worse,” Caitlin replied as she ran over to Cisco’s computer. “Cisco, you have to find her.”

       “Ok, ok, um her- her boots! I put a-a tracker in them when we were testing them in case she got stuck somewhere.” Cisco was typing furiously on his computer, trying to pull up the tracking on your boots. As soon as he had it, he sent the information to his phone. “Let’s go!” He was grabbing his jacket and already halfway out the door before Caitlin had time to respond.

       You were in some back alley somewhere. You didn’t know where- you lost track of where you were going about ten blocks ago. Now, you were schlumped up against the brick wall of the building behind you. You were covered in blood, and drifting in and out of focus. What’s worse was that the meta had reopened old wounds as well. Ones you had long since thought had scarred over and healed. All it took was one look at the faces of your parents to cause them to reopen and pour out blood again. All the years of feeling inadequate and unloved came flooding back into the forefront of your mind. And that same was leaking in too. “Running is a coward’s choice” It was bouncing off the walls of your brain. He was right. You could never win, so when you failed, you ran. You were always running from something. Here, you thought you were safe. With your new friends on this new Earth. You thought you could have a fresh start. But you were wrong. 

       You were fighting to stay awake when you heard the screeching of car tires. Doors slamming and running footsteps soon followed. Soon enough, Cisco was crouched in front of you, clearly panicked as he and Caitlin assessed the state you were in.

       “Y/n, thank God. We found you.” He reached out and wiped sticky blood off of your face, his dark eyes filled with both relief and worry. All at once, everything, all your emotions, came pouring out of you, and you began to sob.

       “C-Cisco. I’m sorry. I-I ran. I ran.”  You squeezed your eyes tight so that you wouldn’t see the disappointment on his face. Of course, instead of disappointment, the man’s face was filled with worry.

       “You did. But we found you...we found you.”

       An hour later, you were sat on the exam table in Caitlin’s office in S.T.A.R. Labs. Caitlin had to staple your scalp back together from where it cracked against the wall, and you had been under her careful watch since she had deemed you concussed. Barry had returned a little while ago, and informed the lab that the meta had gotten away, and was still coming after you. You didn’t understand what he wanted from you, but now that it was in your head, you didn’t think you could face him at all. Knowing what he knew...

       “How are you feeling?” Caitlin asked as she walked back in. You looked up at her from where you had been staring at the floor, your eyes wide with panic and fear. “No, don’t worry right now. You guys gave him a run for his money today, he’ll need time to heal before he comes after you again. You’re safe for now.” Her voice was reassuring, but didn’t do to settle your nerves.

       “He’s in my head, Caitlin. He was in my head. In all of my memories.” Tears pricked at your eyes again, painfully this time. You had only stopped crying twenty minutes ago, and you were trying your best not to start again. Caitlin looked unsettled by this news. You had told them that the meta was playing mind games, but you didn’t really say much more than that. “I can’t- I can’t go home knowing he’s still out there, please, I don’t want to be alone.” And you were crying again.

       “I don’t feel comfortable with you being alone either, Y/n.”

       “You can come home with me.” Cisco had appeared in the doorway, looking still rather concerned. You looked at your best friend through tear-filled eyes, so you could really only see the vague shape of him. “I can take care of her. For as long as she needs.” He strode across the room and squeezed your knee. “As long as you need.” He said to you, his voice a little quieter as he wiped fresh tears from your face. “Is that good with you Dr. Snow?” He asked with a grin as he turned to Caitlin. She nodded.

       “That sounds perfect, Cisco.”

       “Hey, how we doin’ in here?” Barry was now in the doorway, looking at you with concern.

       “Well, we’ve definitely been better,” Cisco remarked as he went back to his desk. You looked at Barry and couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming shame again. More tears.

       “Barry, I’m so-”

       “Hey, it’s okay. I get it. Everyone’s okay, and that’s what matters.” You nodded, and he smiled at you. “Just worry about getting better, okay? You don’t have my super speed to fix you up fast.” You giggled, and he nodded at you before walking back out to talk to Wells and Joe.

       “Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you?” Cisco asked you as you got down off the exam table. You were about to go home, but you were insistent on walking to the car yourself.

       “I’m fine, Cisco.” You wobbled a little before righting yourself. He gave you a doubting look, then looked over at Caitlin, asking her with his eyes what he should do.

       “You really should let him help you.” She countered as you began walking towards the door. You let out a groan and looked back at Cisco.

       “Fine. You can assist me. Don’t pick me up.” You weren’t very big, but you were self-conscious about your weight. Who isn’t? Cisco grinned and nodded, then came and wrapped his arm around your waist.

       “Do you want to get some stuff from home? I don’t know how long you plan on staying, so I don’t know if you want to pick up some clothes or whatnot,” he asked as you got to his car.

       “Tomorrow, maybe. I don’t think I can tonight.” You winced as another wave of pain rocked through your head.

       “Yeah, okay, sure. You can just borrow some of my clothes to sleep in.” He helped you into the car and then went and climbed in. You let out a heavy sigh as he started driving, and closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the seat. Bad idea. You groaned in pain and picked your head up again. “Hey,” Cisco’s hand reached out and rested on your knee, “you good?” Concern was evident in his voice, causing you to smile the tiniest bit. Your stomach had jumped from his touch on your knee, and you glanced over at him.

       “I’m okay.” You reassured him.  He nodded, but his hand stayed on your knee. You glanced at it, then turned to look out the window, smiling to yourself. It stayed there the whole rest of the drive, occasionally drifting absently up towards your thigh and then back down again.        "Let me help you out." He had parked and turned off the car, and was now rushing over to your door. You laughed a little as he opened it and held out his hand to help you out. "What?" He asked, amused, as you stepped out of the car.        "Nothing, don't worry about it."        "Well now I'm gonna worry about it." You laughed again, then promptly winced as another wave of pain hit. This one sent your vision spinning, and all you could see was stars in your eyes.        "Woah." You grabbed onto Cisco's arm as you wobbled dangerously, trying desperately to blink the stars away.        "Hey, you're okay. I've got you." His arm wrapped around your waist and steadied you. He watched you, concerned, until your vision came back. "All good?" He asked as you let out a sigh.        "Yeah, all good."        "Okay." He led you into his apartment, and set his stuff down on the table. "Let me run you a bath." You gripped his arm.        "No, don't-"        "Let me rephrase. I'm going to run you a bath." He brought you into his room, and you sat down on his unmade bed, sighing as he disappeared into the bathroom. It was a few minutes before he came back out, towel in hand. "Here," he handed it to you, then placed his hands on your shoulders, sliding them gently down your arms. "Come on," he said quietly, helping you up. "You all good in here by yourself?"        "God, Cisco, I'm concussed, not paralyzed. I'll be fine."        "If you say so." You rolled your eyes and shut the bathroom door. You winced with almost every movement as you undressed, then sank slowly into the warm water of the bathtub, and sighed as you closed your eyes. You could feel the water leeching away the pain from the day as you sat there and soaked. After a while, you washed your hair, getting any of the leftover blood and dirt out of it, and got out. As you were drying off, you realized you hadn't grabbed any clothes to change into. Sighing, you wrapped yourself in the towel, and opened the bathroom door.        "Cis?"        "Yea- whoa." Cisco responded, looking towards you and then immediately looking away. You rolled your eyes, though even that made you wince. "What's up?"        "You forgot to give me clothes," you replied as you walked over to his closet.        "My bad." You pulled out an extra big graphic tee and slipped it on over your towel-clad body, then let your towel fall. You held the towel in your hands.        "You're good to look now, dummy," you chuckled. Cisco looked back over at you, and you saw something in his face shift. "What?" He didn't say anything, but you felt your heart start racing as he got up and crossed the room to you. "Cisco..."        "You know," his placed his hands on your waist and your heart skipped a beat, "you're really beautiful." He whispered, letting his hands slide down to rest on your hips. Your face flushed bright red, and you hid it in the towel.        "Stop." Your voice was muffled.        "Come here." You could hear the smile in his voice as he walked over to his bed and sat down. You walked over and stood between his legs, your face still partly hidden by the towel. "Put that down." He took the towel from your hands and tossed it onto the bed, then let his hands rest on the backs of your thighs. "How are you feeling?" he asked as he looked up at you. You folded your arms across your chest, feeling so many emotions at once. You knew he was genuinely concerned but...was Cisco flirting with you? You had kept yourself so locked away that you didn't even realize it was a possibility that he could like you. The years of trauma and neglect made it difficult for you to believe anyone could like you...no matter how much you liked them.        Trauma. The events of the day flashed through your mind, and you closed your eyes. The feelings from earlier began to rise again, and you started to feel panicky. You brought your hands to your face and pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes, then let out a yelp of pain as the headache began to pound again.        "Hey, hey, it's okay. What's wrong?" Cisco asked, his voice thick with worry. "Is it your head?" You nodded, and he stood up. "Sit down, I'll get you some medicine." Without arguing, you crawled into his bed and sat down, pulling a blanket around yourself. After a few minutes, he came back with tylenol and a steaming cup of tea. "Here, this should help. I'm gonna shower really fast. Like, really really fast, and I'll be right back." He handed you the tylenol and tea, then grabbed a towel and disappeared into the bathroom. 5 minutes later, he emerged, his hair dripping wet and his towel wrapped around his waist. You blinked slowly at him, then blushed and turned away as he walked over to his closet. "Caught you lookin, huh?" He teased as he pulled on a t-shirt and boxers.        "No," you muttered. He laughed and came and climbed into bed with you. He shifted himself so that he was situated behind you, then pulled you back into his chest. "Comfortable?" You chuckled. A chill went down your spine as you felt him push your hair over your shoulder.        "I should be the one asking you that, shouldn't I?" You didn't realize how tense you were until you felt his warm hands start kneading your shoulders. You let out a heavy sigh as he massaged your neck and shoulders, sipping occasionally from your tea. "Hey...about earlier, with the meta...what was that about?" You tensed up again, and his hands paused briefly. "He really got to you, didn't he?" He asked. There was a moment of silence before you felt Cisco's lips on your shoulder. Your heart started to beat faster again, and you closed your eyes.        "He just...he got in my head. He was in my memories. He- he knew everything about me...about my past, my family. I let him get in my head and he used it all against me." Thinking about it all, your body began to curl in on itself, as if to shield you from any further harm.        "Y/n, hey, stop." Cisco pulled you out of the fetal position and wrapped his arms around you. "I don't know everything about what's going on, but I can tell you one thing. You're not a loser. I'm a loser. You're like, the farthest thing from a loser. You're a literal superhero." You chuckled a little. "And you know what else? ...You don't have to fight for my love." Tears started to fill your eyes, and you looked down towards the bed.        "Cis-" You groaned as your head pounded.        "I've got you." He moved from behind you, and rested his hand behind your head as he lowered you down onto the pillow. You looked up into his eyes as he hovered over you. "Do you need anything?" He used his free hand to push your damp hair out of your face.        "Yeah..." You reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled him down into a kiss. He immediately sunk into it, resting his hand on your cheek as he kissed you slowly. It was a solid minute before the two of you pulled away, lightly gasping for breath. A wide, goofy smile grew on Cisco's face as he looked down at you. "What?" You giggled.        "I could kiss you like that all night...if you wanted."        "Maybe not all night, but...I do want."        "As you wish, madam." A chuckle escaped his lips before he leaned down and kissed you with a soft, yet intense longing. As you reached up and tangled your other hand in his hair, he pulled back and placed a soft kiss on the corner of your jaw. "I'm supposed to be taking care of you."        "You are taking care of me," you pouted in protest of him stopping.        "Not like this...How's your head, baby?" Your heart fluttered at the nickname, and you smiled.        "Better...I think." You winced as another wave of pain washed over you. The boy sighed and planted a kiss on your forehead before rolling over.        "I'll get the light," he said as he rose from the bed and crossed the room to the light switch. Darkness flooded the room, and briefly, you panicked.        "Cisco?"        "I'm right here, Y/n. Are you...afraid of the dark?" He asked as he climbed back in bed, his voice sounding amused.        "Pfft. No. I'm afraid of the things in the dark." You admitted sheepishly. He let out a hearty laugh and wrapped his arms around you.        "Don't worry, I'll protect you," he mumbled into your hair. You smiled and cuddled up to him, nestling your face in the crook of his neck. "I've got you."

[queenofwerewolves]

Future Hope - chapter 1.5 - Practice Makes Perfect

Our heroes didnt get their powers and knew from night to day how to manage them, especially those who had physical changes to their body. Our soon-to-be heroes were all reunited in Maria's house, they had planed to spend the afternoon practing and exploring their new limits and abilities, all helping eitch other.

They decided since Griff had the biggest change, they would focus on him first. At the moment they were out in backyard, eitch one giving suggestions on what to begin first.

"Pick us all up at once with your new muscles!" Said Muffin excitedly. "That's still too light! Pick us all up plus Maria's car" Said Spike, chewing once again on a bubblegum.

"You all leave Hellride out of this!" Maria responded angrily. "That car was expensive as fuck and I refuse to go back to a life of Ubers!" She crossed her arms, indignified.

"You named your car?" Kip answered from high up a tree branch, as cats do. "I name all my belongings, what of it?" Maria answered. "And they're all cool names, too".

"Hellride? Really?" Spiked scoffed. "Because she rides fast as Hell! Look can we get back on track and find something for Griff to test his strenght?!" Maria answered nervously with a touch of embarrassment.

"Unless we find an Indiana Jones boulder for him to spin on his finger like a damn basketball we arent gonna get any damn progress!" Spike shouted back.

Maria sighed and shook her head. "I hate it when you have a point.." Griff nervously scratched the back of his head. "There must be something we can do.." He quietly mumbled out.

"I got it!" Muffin shouted, they all turned to face her. "I forgot Im a fairy! I can just poof something up!" She said excitedly. Everyone stared at her with either a confused or shocked look.

"..How... Do you FORGET that you're a fairy?!" Spike blurted out nervously. "You have fucking wings! How does one forget they have huge pink glittery wings?!"

Muffin just shrugged.

Maria smiled wide. "OK Muffin, give us something huge and heavy for Griff to use!" Muffin nodded and grabbed her wand which had a muffin on the tip. "Wand cook, beat and bake! Give us a big large and tasty cupcake!" She waved her wand and out appeared from a bunch of pink glittery smoke, a nearly two-story house tall chocolate cupcake.

"... Why a cupcake..?" Blink asked as she peeked behind her mask, in slight awe and wanting to secretly a bite out of it. "I can only make sweets!" Muffin said with a shy tone. "Im not a fighter like you guys, I only want to make people happy and eat candy!"

"That is certainly the biggest pastry I've ever seen! So large and beautiful, I bet tasty as well!" "Not to mention DIABETIC AS HELL!!! We could die from a heart attack eating that! Or worse, we could get fat! Even fatter! And become even uglier then we already are! This is too overwealming I need a nap!"

Rooko and Rooki suddenly spoke, almost taking everyone off guard on how their friend Rook is suddenly two split personalities now based on the Youtube character ENA, one is always happy while the other is always sad, and depending on the situation they can go Manic or Miserable.

"OK Griff, show us what you can do!" Maria shouted excitedly. Without missing a second, Griff bent over and gripped the edge of the massive cupcake, after struggling a bit he slowly but surely, lifted the entire thing over his head, smiling proudly.

His friends cheered and applauded proudly. Feeling satisfied, he dropped the cupcake and dusted the chocolate crumbs off his hands and fur. "Yokusei!" He shouted, and with a naruto-like smoke poof, he turned back to his human self. Maria ran and hugged him tightly, which Griff embraced and hugged back with a slight twirl.

"Griff you were amazing!!" Maria said with a proud tone, Griff slightly blushed pink at the small punk girl and her excitement. "Oh shucks, it was nothing.." He said with a shy tone.

"Well, and seems we concluded Griffin's training." Togekiss said as they took a sip of tea. "He jump twice as high as a two-story house, his punches and kicks can knock down brick walls and possibly more if we werent limited on objects to test it with, he can hear twice as much then a dog could with his ears, and his sense of smell is impecable. Truly Griff is a strong asset to our team."

"I can only train my powers at night.." Said Spooks, holding an umbrella to protect her from the sun, now that it injures her. "Muffin's power is only sweet making. Togekiss has exceptional I.Q and can see simulations in the future like Garnet in Steven Universe, along with their strong telekenisis, and Kip simply draws whatever she desires, whether alive or not and it becomes a reality... That means it's Rook's turn to show us what she can do" She finished.

"Wonderful! It's our time to shine!" "I-I-I not ready! Everyone's gonna laugh at us! I-I might piss myself in fear!" "Oh pull yourself together dear! Our friends wont laugh at us!" "How do we know that?! They're just waiting to correct us on a dumb mistake!!!"

Rook's body shook and twitched as her eyes turned to static, suddenly her entire eyes turned black with a blue iris, she turned Miserable.

"They're gonna laugh and point at our foolish selves, we're gonna be so embarrassed that we'll wish that the Earth will swallow us whole and just fucking kill us now!! Go ahead! Laugh at us and our misfortune!!!"

"ooh shit" Maria said. "can someone calm her down?"

Rook's eyes change to regular as her Miserable side went away. "No need my good Queen! We are completly fine! Now prepare to be dazzled as we show you all what we can do!" q

Rook pulled out a harry potter-like wooden wand, waved it around. "Bloom and Blossom and protect who I love! Rise my pretties, rise high and above!" Rooki shot an orange light at the grass, which made dozens of flowers bloom and grow around Spike and Blink.

"This is only one of my tricks! It's a shield that protects them from almost anything! My main weakness is fire, because while plants are beautiful, they are also sadly very, very flammable"

"Cool." Said Spike before using his bat to aggressivly hit the flowers and the vines aside so he and Blink could leave.

"M-M-My turn I guess!" Rook took hold of the wand and waved it in circles. "Razzle Dazzle Shine and Show, make their body move it low!" Rooko shot a blue light at Spooks, which made unwillingly and uncontrolably start dancing and as the spell said, make her go low.

"O-OH GOD SOMEONE MAKE IT STOP I DONT LIKE HOW MY BUTT IS MOVING THIS MUCH!!" She shouted in desperation as she made a split and moved it even lower.

"M-My deal is with music! I-It works as a way of distraction o-or hypnosis and it lasts for 30 minutes un-le-less I say otherwise! I-I know it's a sucky power!"

"OK COOL CAN I STOP DANCING PLEASE IM GETTING A CRAMP!!!" Yelled Spooks, practically begging. Rooko flicked her wand and Spooks fell on the ground, panting. "OH MY POOR HAMSTRINGS THEY ACHE!!" She yelled in utter pain, meanwhile Maria and Spike were absolutely losing it.

"O-OH GOD MY STOMACH HURTS-" Said Spike in between laughter.

"OK you guys cool it" Said Blink. "It's our turn to practice now. We're the only ones who use regular weapons." She said drawing her sword and positioning her mask back in place.

"O-OK! OK!" Maria said getting up, she pulled out a small staff and whipped it, making it stretch out wide into a full, large red and black scythe, with a rose print on the blade. Spike spun his bat and spat his gum out.

"So. Who's ass Im kicking first?" Said Spike. "Wait on second thought this might be unfair." Said Blink. "Me and Maria had blades while Spike has a bat, maybe we should-"

Before she could finish, Spike swung his bat and hit Blink sword, knocking it out of her hand before kicking her back at the ground. Blink fell back hard before she could even process what happen, dumbfounded but angry, she snarled. "Oh it's on now Motherfucker." She extended her hand and the sword flew back to her hand, as she charged towards Spike, who moved out of the way as soon as Blink swung her sword, which if he hadnt been for Maria's scythe, would have sliced her right up.

"Dude! Chill! This is a pratice!" Maria spoke as both of their blades were against eitch other. Blink hopped and flipped over her and landed on a tree branch, croutching like a ninja. She put her hands together and in a small puff of smoke and disappeared. Spike and Maria were back to back, ready to counterattack Blink, what they didnt expect was for her to attack from underground.

Buring up from the dirt, she got both of them off their feet and charged after Spike, who barely managed to regain his balance before his using bat his block Blink's sword. A back and forth of clash-clings-and-clangs between metal begun, one attacking the other but eitch blocking every attack again and again.

Spike ducked a sword slash and roundhouse kick Blink's leg, which was effective since she's practically a ninja. She backflipped back on her feet and kept attacking swiftly. But a sudden scythe blade cut in between them, stopping the fight.

"That's enough!!!" Maria shouted. "You both are gonna end up hurting yourselves or eitch other! im ending it now!!"

"Oh what the hell dude?!" Blink shouted indignified. "I was about to beat him!!" "Oh please." Answered Spike. "Was that the best you could do? Sakura could do a better job kicking my ass" He scoffed. They began to argue loudly, genuinely angry at eitch other.

"THAT"S ENOUGH!!!!" Maria shouted, making them, and everyone else look at her.

"It doesnt matter would win that fight! This was a practice and not a competition!! The point of us being a team and getting powers in the first place was for all of us to make the world a better place, but the only way that can happen is if all of us work together!! As a team!!!"

They stood in silence, listening to her talk and set them straight.

"As cheesy as that sounds, it's true!! We shouldnt fight eitch other like this, you're not just my friends, we're all friends with eitch other! We all go along well and we know that, that's why I got you all together, because no one can bond better in a team then all of us together!!!"

"... She's right." Togekiss added, walking towards them. "We all started as simple individuals with free time on a website, but we all shared common interests, we grew closer.. And suddenly like that, we all became friends.. A family, if you will."

"We take care of eitch other and look out for one another." Said Spooks.

"Just like how you all did for me.. When I almost died. Almost died because of the shit and violent world we live in." Maria said.. With a slight crack in her voice.

"You're bringing in the same violence that almost killed me.. So please.. Please stop fighting.. We're all in this together.. Right..?"

Spike and Blink dropped their weapons and hugged Maria, and everyone else joined in as well.

"You're right, we're sorry Queen." Said Spike. "We got overwhealmed and we didnt mean it. We wont fight again, because you're right." Added Blink.

"We only have eitch other in this world, and if we want to change it we have to stick together, just like you said." Spike said one more time.

"And we wont let you down.. We promise.." Griff finished, with everyone agreeing with what he said.

And so they stayed for a moment, embraced within eitch other in a group hug. A family isnt perfect, there will be disagreements, but a good bond will always overcome those disagreements, and that's what they had, a good bond.

A bond that's practically unbreakable and untaintable. A bond that will soon be ready, and fight together to make the world a better place.

A bond that will the world's Future Hope..

[heynikkiyousofine]

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3
The saga continues for my dear friend @enchantedink-ag, enjoy lovelies!
Part 2
Bounding from tree to tree in the scattered daylight as it filtered through the canopy, Inuyasha barely had time to catch his breath before taking off once more towards Meiji Shrine, a sacred temple located in a meadow with not much else around it. Miroku explained this temple was sacred, much like Mount Hakurei was. The temple had been built over the grave of the deceased demon, Koyanagi. It was where the twins had taken her, Miroku was sure of it. With it being a sacred place, it was the perfect location to harness spiritual power to bring him back from the dead.
He had been running all day, only stopping to take a quick drink in a stream he passed by earlier. Sweat covered his brow and Inuyasha knew he would have to move even quicker before sundown to make it there, that the full moon would be at its highest just hours after the sun sets over the horizon. Feeling his youki pulse, he pushed forward, leaping from a tree branch as his strength rose and his inner demon roared in anger. Kagome, I’m coming.
——————————————————————————————-
Kagome focused on the dirt on her bare feet, while Kimoto wrapped the sisal rope around the worn wooden pole that protruded from the ground. She needed to keep her strength up, even though she was bone tired and her whole body ached. The blood and dirt caked on her head had dried hours ago, while she sported a nice looking welt on her tear stains cheek where Kimoto had thrown her in the rough dirt. Whimpering, she felt a slight shiver and a wave of nausea roll over her as he continued tying, his hands brushing her backside. Inuyasha. I’m scared. Where are you?
As he finished securing her, Kirigaya spread out her scroll on a near by large stone few feet away, then pulled a dagger from her inner cloak. The smooth steel glistened in the bright moonlight, catching Kagome’s attention from her post. The soft breeze swished across the grass and Kagome knew she would have loved the lay here in the meadow and stargaze with her husband had they come across it in different circumstances. Swallowing quickly, she kept quiet and continued to observe the twin demons. Wiggling her fingers, she pulled against the worn rope, noticing that the rope wasn’t as tight as she had initially thought and felt a familiar aura approach the far tree line. Not wanting to give anything away, Kagome shifted and continued to stare ahead into the dark forest.
——————————————————————————————-
Inuyasha stood in a tall oak tree, glaring at the scene before him. He growled quietly to himself when he noticed Kagome was currently tied to a post in a dirt patch in the middle of a field. Farther back sat a small red painted building he assumed was the shrine. I’m going to kill those fuckers for kidnapping Kagome. He continued watching the duo move around Kagome, setting up the ritual. Glancing at the clear sky, he noticed the moon was almost at its highest point, shining brightly on the scene before him. It was time as he felt an evil aura spread over the forest.
He patted his kosode, feeling the rough outline of the pouch Kaede gave him, the stack of sutras from Miroku, wiggling his ears once, before grabbing Kagome’s bow and arrow and jumping quietly from his spot. He wasn’t sure what his plan was, he just knew he needed to stop the ritual from happening. He needed to save his wife and unborn child.
He simply strode forward silently, keeping one claw gripped tightly on his fang, the other still holding Kagome’s weapons, his eyes darting swiftly around. The two demons didn’t seem to notice him, or to care to even look up at him, which was he thought was odd. He was sure they would have felt his aura by now, unless they were ignoring him. Feeling a bit unnerved, he was suddenly throw back by some invisible force, yelping as he landed on his back. Fucking hell that hurt. Three heads shot up at the sound, the demons staring and smirking at his pain while Kagome’s eyes filled with worry.
——————————————————————————————-
“Ah, the half-breed showed up brother, I had wondered if he would find us. It seems he isn’t as dense as I assumed.” Kirigaya snickered as Inuyasha groaned and slowly stood, staying rooted in his spot. “If you couldn’t tell, we set up a barrier around the ritual site so no one can bother us.”
“That’s right sister, we don’t need anyone interrupting us.” Kimoto added, stepping away from Kagome. Inuyasha! Kagome struggled against the ropes once more, feeling them give away more this time. A plan was beginning to form in her thoughts. Her stomach lurched as she heard Inuyasha’s yelp once more, staring ahead as he was thrown back to the ground again. Her bow and arrows lay on the ground beside him and her determination grew. Once she was free of these ropes….
Kirigaya turned towards her scroll once more before lifting her head to look at the moon’s position and smiling broadly.
“It’s time. Brother, come here.” She reached for his hand, intertwining their slender fingers. “In just a short time, our brother will be returned to us and we will once again be all powerful.”
“You bastards! Let Kagome go!” Inuyasha yelled from outside the invisible barrier, staring at his wife with fear filled golden eyes. Kagome could tell by his wide stance, clenched fists and angry glare that he was becoming desperate. His demon wouldn’t stay away much longer. Hang in there for me Koi, I’ve got a plan. 
Kimoto turned towards her, pure joy in his gray eyes, and lifted his hands. The grass suddenly still and the air around her coming to a halt. If she stopped struggling, she was sure she could hear her own heartbeat with how silent the area was. Glancing at the love of her life, she saw him draw Tetsusaiga and the blade turn a crimson red. He’s going to break the barrier. I need to get out of these ropes and fast.
Kirigaya swiftly turned her head and glared at the half-demon with his sword raised high. She smiled and took a deep breath. Kagome knew what was coming. Kagome didn’t know it was her that was screaming, until Kimoto shoved a small piece of cloth in her mouth, as more tears fell down her cheeks. The pain wouldn’t stop, piercing her skull and making her incredibly nauseous. Focused on not passing out from the pain, she barely felt the blade slice her collarbone. After what felt like an eternity, the sound stopped and Kagome locked eyes with Inuyasha as he blasted through the barrier, shattering it into a million pieces before it disappeared into the air.
“You filthy half-breed.” Kirigaya was seething, gripping the scroll in her hands so tight, her knuckles turning white. Inuyasha stood at the edge of the dirt circle, a smirk spreading across his face. Whipping her head back, she urged Kimoto to continue. Kagome realized his hands had been roaming her body, touching her in places only Inuyasha had ever. Her stomach lurching, she pulled against the ropes once more, her right hand coming free. As Kimoto drew blood from her cheek with the small dagger, she quickly untied the rest of the rope, freeing her left. Pulling the dirtied cloth from her mouth, she shoved at Kimoto. I have to get to my weapon. Inuaysha!
“Inuyasha!” She screamed, her heart bursting at the seams as she watched him race forward.
——————————————————————————————-
Furious didn’t even begin to describe Inuyasha’s feelings. His blood boiled beneath his skin as he swung, breaking the barrier with his red Tetsusaiga. When Kagome’s blood curdling scream filled the air, his heart shattered and his demon roared. He was clawing to get out, determined to kill the very beings who harmed his beloved. He knew purple streaks had appeared along his cheekbones and his fangs were long enough to pierce his bottom lip. When the barrier disappeared, the ringing stopped. Smirking at the female, he was thankful he had decided to wear the ear plugs before arriving. Thank you Sango.
The scent of iron and blood filled this nose and if he could be any angrier, he would be. That fucker was hurting Kagome. He couldn’t use the Wind Scar in his position, he would hurt her too. Deciding his lengthened claws were a good enough weapon, he leaped at Kirigaya just as she stepped forward, drawing her own sword hidden beneath her cloak. Eyes wide, Inuyasha collided with sharp metal, his hands gripping the sword’s length.
taglist: @kalcia @smh1821 @stillunderyourbed @mandirox89 @littlepumkinseed @knittingknots @mamabearcat @bitch8901 @rikareena @swaggingtomboy @nonbinarypeeta @writemydaydreams @ruddcatha @mlb-stuffs @adorabubblesblog @sailorlolo @chaoticisapphic @zelink-inukag @meadashaw @inukagger @zanda-rl @born-for-eachother @wheremydreamsliethereyoullfindme @anisaanisa @mylindylady @aceverett15

[barnesbabee]

Alejandro || S.M

Pairing: Song Mingi x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

⚠ mentions of emotional abuse, mentions of cigarettes, violence, alcohol ⚠

Reblog the fuck out of this one please, it’s a big one. Enjoy xx

ᴀᴛᴇᴇᴢ x ʟᴀᴅʏ ɢᴀɢᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴘᴛ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ || ᴘ3

ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴀʟᴇᴊᴀɴᴅʀᴏ ᴍᴠ

 You tried so, so hard for everything to be perfect. So why was everything shit!? 

   Sometimes, when the stress building up became too much you’d find yourself pathetically sitting in the shower, with the warm water running down your back and dripping from your hair while the black mascara stained your cheeks.

    But you’d recompose yourself as quickly as you broke down. You had to maintain the pretty smile and the perfect front for all of the outsiders. You were ashamed, you didn’t want people to know about your situation, you dreaded that someday someone would understand the unbelievable amount of control going on inside those walls.

   There was no love anymore. Unbeknownst to you, the romance would be gone the second he’d promised you his life.

   Your husband had never gone as far as to hit you, but there were days that you felt as if it couldn’t get any worse. You were trapped and there was no sight of an escape.

   The two of you were part of a very conservative community, therefore a divorce would only serve to put you under a bad light in everyone’s eyes, so you just stayed quiet and endured it, hoping that something would go well for you.

    And it was a simple, stupid incident that set you on the road to freedom.

   It was in your brother in law’s wedding. 

   Your head rested on your first while your index finger traced the curves of your fourth martini’s cup. You were beyond bored: the music was mostly slow and ballad-like, and unlike all of the other young girls or old ladies you didn’t feel like dancing with your ‘sweetheart’.

    Alcohol-fueled tears brimmed in your eyes as you thought about your current situation, and how unfair it was, but before any of them could be spilled, someone spoke to you.

    “You’re either too drunk or not drunk enough.”

    Your gaze lifted to look at the tall man leaning against the bar’s counter. He had blonde hair (obviously not his natural colour) and shaved sides, which you thought was unusual, at least in a place like that.

    “Somehow, both…” You told him with a sigh.

   His deep voice was more noticeable when he chuckled. He sat down in the velvet stool next to yours and signaled the waiter to bring in two of whatever you were having.

    You eyed him curiously. You could see some colour underneath the thin, white dress shirt. You couldn’t help but become curious about it.

    “Do my arms pique your interest?” He asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow at you once he realized you were staring. 

   You cocked your head and looked him in the eye.

   “I was just wondering what the colours were.”

   The male quickly put his drink down to roll up his sleeves so he could proudly display his colourful, tattooed arms. He turned both of them so you could fully see the artwork, and you were truly mesmerized.

   Just as you were about to comment on how beautiful they were, the groom came running in and pulled down the man’s sleeves to cover up the pretty drawings. 

    “Mingi you fucking idiot I told you not to show these. My mom already hates you enough!” The groom whisper-yelled, through gritted teeth as he smacked the back of you companion’s head.

    Mingi raised his arms in defeat.

    “I’m sorry man, I’ll keep them hidden.” He said jokingly.

    The groom walked away as he signaled to Mingi that ‘he was watching him’. You laughed and took another sip of the drink he had kindly ordered for you.

    “His mom hates you? Wow, you must be a nightmare…”

   Mingi laughed and brushed his hair back with his hand.

   Hot.

   “Yeah… She kinda caught me smoking and she’s been trying to push us apart every since then.”

   “Oh, a bad boy then?” 

   You winked at him playfully and laughed. After both of your laughs died down Mingi sucked in a breath and placed his hand high on your thigh. He leaned in to whisper in your ear.

    “Are you into that?”

    A weird yet pleasing sensation spread through your body, and an unwanted blush appeared in your cheeks.

    He sat back where he was and brought his drink to his very appetizing lips once more, while locking his gaze with yours.

    You snapped back to reality quickly. You raised your hand, showing the meaningless yet very real, gold wedding ring. You shrugged and gave him an apologetic look.

   Mingi rolled his eyes and scoffed (much to your confusion).

   “As if you’re content with your marriage.”

   You looked at him, offended, as you couldn’t believe the nerve he had. You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

    “And what could possibly lead you to that conclusion?” You asked, indignant.

    Mingi smirked.

   “Well, for starters, the love of your life left you by yourself in a bar while every other couple is being corny on the dance floor, second, because if you weren’t the slightest bit interested in me you would’ve already left, and last but definitely not least,” Mingi leaned dangerously close, so you could hear his victorious whisper “if you were really happy with him you would’ve swatted my hand away the second it laid on your thigh.”

   You suddenly became very aware of his touch, and his fingers burned on your skin. You stood up abruptly and walked quickly towards the exit. You felt like the air was choking you and you needed some air. 

    Before you could walk very further, Mingi gripped your wrist for a second. 

    “The tattoo parlor in front of the mall, find me there.”

    And just like that, he let you go. 

 “You fucking bitch! You’re so goddamn worthless! I swear to God the only reason why I don’t kill you is because I don’t want to go to jail over something as useless as you.”

    You snapped. It had finally become too much to take on all by yourself. The shock and fright you felt prevented you from crying, or from doing anything really. You just stood in the middle of the living room, staring at him wide-eyed and frozen, not sure of what to do.

    You were only able to turn around and start running when your husband stepped towards you. The fear enveloping you pushed you to turn around and run out of the house to the only destination you trusted: the tattoo shop.

    How sad was it that the person you trusted the most was someone you had spoken to once?

    Life isn’t always kind…

    Your legs almost went numb from all the running, and the cold air hitting your face felt as if it was slicing your skin. When you eventually spotted the red, neon open sign shining in the dark street you stopped. 

    Was this even a good idea?

    You were way past caring when you hurriedly pushed the heavy door open and entering the shop. 

    The little wind chimes hanging right beside the door announced your arrival.

    “I’m sorry, but we’re closed now if you’d like you can return tomorrow at 9am.” The familiar, deep voice warned.

    You were a little unsure of what to say. Fuck, what could you say? What, in this situation, would be acceptable to say?

    “Mingi?” You called, simple and straightforward.

    His blonde head quickly peeked from the back of the store. He revealed his whole body as he walked towards you.

    “Wow, I didn’t actually expect you to show up, if I’m being honest I-”

    You shut him off by standing on your tippy-toes and pulling him down to kiss you. It was a very rough and sudden kiss, and to say you were just as shocked as Mingi about your behavior was no understatement. 

    When you pulled away Mingi’s hands rested on your hips. You two shared the most intense staring contest as your faces were just mere centimeters apart.

   “Please…” You begged “I just need to feel something.”

  The man immediately kissed you, as if he was in a hurry, as if he’d lose you if he didn’t do it right then and there. It started slow and passionate, moving to a much rough pace soon after. 

   The kiss was messy and sloppy, a type of kiss that you had just found out you loved. 

   “That’s all you needed to say, doll.” Mingi told you as he caressed your cheek, once you pulled away for air.

   You bit your lip as you looked up at him. 

   Mingi hit a button on the wall that turned off the big, shiny sign outside. He grabbed your hand and lead you to a small room in the back. It only had a red couch, a mini-fridge, a microwave and a dark-wood coffee table with a pack of cigarettes and a silver ashtray on top of it. The room reeked of smoke, but that surely wouldn’t be your focus.

   When the door clicked behind the two of you, he pushed you against it. His hands roamed all over your body, hungry for every curve, as his lips worked on your neck. 

   You felt embarrassed at how quickly he got you moaning. All it took were a couple bites and a cheeky whimper had already left your mouth.

   You slapped a hand over your mouth when his large hand found its way inside your underwear, but he was quick to remove it. He pecked your lips sweetly. 

   “Oh no doll, I wanna hear every little moan that comes out of that pretty mouth of yours, okay?”

    He caressed your lower lip with his thumb, and all you could do was comply with his request. Mingi picked you up bridal style and threw you on the beat-up, surprisingly comfortable couch.

     His lips devoured yours hungrily as he desperately undid your jeans. Mingi’s hair was messy from the way your fingers played with it, but you two were far from caring about appearances, you were too absorbed in each other’s moans to pay attention to it. 

    Mingi gripped the waistband of your jeans and pulled them down roughly. Your underwear came off right after, and you watched as he threw them somewhere in the room as he worked in undoing his sweatpants. 

    He noticed the way you closed your legs slightly, a little embarrassed about the situation. Mingi smiled softly and spread you with one of his hands. 

   The male leaned down and kissed the spot just below your ear.

   “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”

   You blushed at the comment, more than you already were, and pushed away the thought that Mingi had made you feel more like a woman in twenty minutes than your husband had in your whole marriage. 

    Mingi lined up his cock with your entrance and waited for your consent. You gripped the cushions in anticipation, and nodded. 

   Once he had the green card, Mingi bottomed inside of you, and moved slowly. When your face started twisting with pleasure, Mingi sped up. He hovered over you, each hand on the sides of your head, accentuating how much bigger he was than you, how tiny and secure he made you feel. 

   He lost control over his body, and he could no longer regulate the way he thrust into you. It was wild and violent, something you’d never experienced before, something you now loved.

   You gripped Mingi’s shoulder, leaving clear nail marks on him (but little did you know he loved them), as you moaned and whimpered underneath him. 

   “F-fuck I think I’m gonna cum Mingi-”

  The way you said his name made his cock twitch inside of you, and he nearly came, but Mingi was focused on making you cum first.

   He bit on your neck once more, carefully as to not leave any noticeable marks, and the mix of feelings combined the desperation you felt made you climax, and you didn’t hold back in the way you moaned his name as you walls tightened around his member.

   Mingi immediately pulled out, releasing all over your stomach and inner thighs in the process.

   You both didn’t move for a second, both trying to catch your breaths. And although it never took Mingi too long to regain his energy, he surely was enjoying the work of art in front of him.

  From that night on, you had to pretend you were miserable. You had to hide your joy and glee from your husband so he wouldn’t catch onto your unbelievable happiness. 

   Mingi treated you like he only had eyes for you. He treated you like you were the only one in the world. He treated you like a human, he respected you. That’s all you could ask for in a man, and so your little tattoo shop visits became longer, and more often. It became hard to hide, but every bit of it was worth it. 

   You’d often find yourself smiling, at the thought of Mingi’s silly jokes or crazy antics that never failed to amuse you, and you’d been caught once or twice by your husband, but it was never anything significant for him to suspect something else. 

   Everything almost went down the drain when you and Mingi ran into each other in a café, justly when you went out with your husband. You tried to avoid him, because you were sure he wouldn’t remember how your ‘significant other’ worked, but it was no good.

   The second he laid eyes on you, a wide smile spread across his face, and suddenly it was as if the sun was shining inside the café.

   You wanted to run into his arms and kiss him as a hello, but you couldn’t. You maintained a serious expression and shook your head negatively, but it was no use.

   “Y/N! Hi!” The man greeted you.

   You immediately panicked, as the grip your husband had on you tightened. 

   “Y/N, baby” the nickname didn’t sit well when he said it “who is this?” 

   Although his voice was sweet in front of strangers, you could sense the undertone.

   You rummaged through your head, trying to find a passable excuse.

    “Well, Mingi was at your brother’s wedding and he approached me because he needed some legal advice concerning his shop.”

    Mingi was a little confused, but he went ahead and fed the lie.

    “Oh, well then I’ll let you discuss that while I go wash my hands, Y/N find us a table.”

    He never said please…

    You waited for him to be in an acceptable distance so you could comfortably talk to Mingi.

    “Don’t call my name, Mingi!”

    “What!? Why?”

    You held the bridge of your nose between your index finger and your thumb.

    “Listen-” you looked towards the bathroom door, and your husband was coming back “I’ll explain later tonight, okay?”

    Mingi was visibly upset, but still agreed.

    The clock on the wall ticked slower when Mingi waited for you, or so it seemed. A minute without you felt like an hour for him, he was absolutely head over heels for you, and most of the time of your face and your laugh was all that was present in his head.

   You were just intoxicating. 

   When the wind chimes echoed through the shop, Mingi immediately peeled his body from the couch and went to meet you.

   You both shyly smiled at each other, as if you were two teenagers in love for the first time. 

   Mingi grabbed your hips and brought you forward, pressing your lips together softly. 

   “Hey.”

   “Hi.”

   They weren’t dry hello’s, no, but bashful ones instead.

   You gripped onto his biceps and bit your lip, unsure of the correct way to approach him about it.

   “Mingi, listen, you have to pretend you don’t know me in public…”

   He furrowed his eyebrows together and cocked his head.

   “What?”

   You sighed, a little sad about having to explain the motives behind your request.

   “We have to pretend to be strangers in public Mingi, you know how my husband gets and-”

    “Then leave him! I don’t understand!”

    You didn’t like the way he cut you off, to say the dumbest thing of all, on top of that.

    “Do you think I wouldn’t have already if I could!? What would I do then!?”

    “Live with me! Come with me! We still have our whole lives ahead os us Y/N! I love you and it hurts seeing you being mistreated yet still settling for it!” He yelled, gripping onto you as if he was afraid you were slipping away.

    “I know that we are young and I know that you may love me, but I can’t live like this anymore Mingi, I have a life already built, I have a job and if I leave him everything will change and I will-”

    Mingi shut you up with a kiss.

    “And what, Y/N? Are you like them? Are you like those stuck up motherfuckers that side-eye me because I dye my hair and wear leather jackets, hm? Do you want to have a nine to five job, have kids, be stuck in a marriage and then die knowing that the most fun thing you ever did in your life was fool around with a tattoo artist for a couple of weeks!?” He exclaimed, visibly frustrated, as he stepped away from you.

    “I want a secure life! I want the guarantee that tomorrow I’m not gonna starve! And if that means that I’m just like my parents then maybe I am!”

   “Y/N you know damn well why you’re not like all of these people! Why won’t you let me have you!? Is it because I live in a flat, not a house? It is because I buy my clothes on Primark, not Tommy Hilfiger!? Is it because I have a bike instead of a car!?” 

   “It’s because I don’t fucking know what to do! The life I live is miserable but at least I know that I’m not gonna be struggling tomorrow…”

   There was a long silence. A long, heavy silence. Mingi placed his hands on his hips and huffed. He looked around for a second, before laying his eyes on you again. It was like talking to a wall, he couldn’t understand how comfort won over happiness, and it stressed him out.

   “Give me one reason, one good reason, that’ll make me walk out that door with no regrets of leaving you.” He said, pointing at the glass exit.

   You looked at him. There was no reason. There was absolutely no reason as to why you should stay in that place. A comfortable life didn’t compensate for the fact that you had been threatened and mistreated almost every day.

    Upon hearing your silence, Mingi stepped towards you and cupped your face, making you look at him.

    “Exactly, you can’t, this plave isn’t for us. Run away with me Y/N, let’s leave, I promise I’ll make you happy for the rest of your life…”

    You didn’t know if it was the rush, the adrenaline, the glisten in his eyes or the sheer adoration you felt for him, but you kissed his lips, and grabbed the extra helmet for his bike, with no further questions.

    “Next you need to let me tattoo you.” He said, as you two got on the bike with whatever you had in your pockets.

    You chuckled, encircling his waist with your arms.

    “In your dreams, big boy.”

    “I’m already living my dreams.”

[luna-jaden-shadow]

no. 6 Please. . . . .

Prompts - | “Get It *Off*” | No More | “Stop, Please” |

Angst/Fluff

Warning - Torture, Electricution By Shock Collar, 

Pairing(s) - Shouta Aizawa X Hizashi Yamada X Pro-Hero!Reader

-><-

-><-

Time now is nonexistent, you can’t tell how much has passed but it feels like years. An eternity almost of you being locked in a tiny cell. You press your back to the corner, legs pulled close as you grip the overly amped up shock collar that’s securely locked around your neck. You find yourself now jumping at the slightest noises, holding on to the memories that come every now and then in desperation of someone coming soon who could save you.

All you wanted was to go home to your boys. It feels like forever ago since the last time you’ve heard Hizashi “singing” at the top of his lungs to some song that came on or since you’ve cuddled with Aizawa on the couch. It was those memories that hurt the most when they came through. They were the ones that always hurt the most when they left your mind. 

You’re drawn from your thoughts at the sound of footsteps, any hope you had about it being your boys was gone when the man turned the corner. “I’m glad to see you’re awake pet.” He smiles at you, walking towards the cell that he’d locked you in. “How are you baby?” He tilts his head, showing off his teeth in his smile when you cower back from him and look away form his eyes. 

Reaching out, he unlocks the cage and steps in, watching as you push yourself as far away from him as possible. “Go away.” You mumble, your voice unable to get any louder then that in fear of what might happen if you got loud with him. The man scoffs, crouching down in front of you, reaching his hand out to touch you. You flinch under his touch when his hand cups your face. You can’t find it in yourself to turn away form him, once more captured in your own fear of what might happen.

He grips your jaw hard, laughing when you whimper in pain. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” He growls at you, forcing you to look into his eyes. “It had better not be of those so called heroes.” He lets go of your jaw and pulls your hair back when you try to look away. “Right? Or do I need to remind you that they’re not gonna save you?” You watch as his other hand goes to his left pocket where a remote is sticking out. 

You instantly start to shake your head, whimpering pleads and begging him not to do it. He laughs, pulling your hair as hard as he can to get you to yell in pain. You’re begging for him to stop, begging for no more of this pain that he’s causing you. “Go away.” You find yourself telling him though there’s no power in your voice to make him even want to listen to you. 

He stands up suddenly, smirking down at you. “Look at you.” He crosses his arms. “My own pro-hero. Ha!” He laughs before he turns to leave. Both of you find yourselves jumping at the sound of yelling. You hold your breath, pressing your hands to your ears as you hear the man yelling into the walkie. “You.” He whips around, glaring hard at you as though you’d just killed his pet. “Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook. Those are your “heroes” and you’re going to suffer because of them.” 

He steps out of the cell and locks it closed again before pulling out the remote that has been haunting your dreams. “Please no.” You beg him, scrambling to the front of the cell. “Please I’m can’t controlling them!” You yell at the man before you’re curled up on the floor yelling in pain from him pressing the button to the shock collar. “Stop, please!” You get out before your yells and screams are silent as you’re desperate for the air that’s not being let in because of the shocks that are almost making your body lock up. 

Smirking, he turns to leave, not turning off the collar. Your hands are pulling at the collar even though you already know it’ll get you no where. Minutes pass of you screaming and almost spasming on the floor with tears running down your face. You don’t even hear the footsteps over your screams until there’s a person crouching down in front of you. “Get it off.” You yell, not even caring who’s in front of you. “Get it off! Please!” There’s rushed voices as your eyes screw shut. “Get it off.” You’re repeating over and over when the shocking stopped, body twitching in the aftermath of your torture. “Get it off.”

A hand gently brushes your hair back form your face. “We got you kitten.” There’s nothing but comfort from the voice as you slowly open your eyes to see the black hero outfit of one of your husbands. “We’re here kitten.” You look up and see Aizawa, looking down at you before he takes you into his arms, concerned when you keep going on about taking the collar off even though it was turned off. You bury your head in his shoulder, crying to him.

Another set of footsteps draws close, making you tense up. Aizawa runs his hand up and down your back, soothing you. “Shouta they’re gone.” You look up to see Hizashi stands in the doorway to the cell, looking at you in shock and concern. “Y/n.” He cautiously walks forward, kneeling down and pulling both you and Aizawa into his arms. “You’re okay baby.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your head while holding you close to him. “We’re okay.”

It took you weeks to get back to normal, though you were still taking your time with healing before you did any hero work. Which came from the face that your over protective husbands. Which brings you to where you are right now, on the couch wrapped up in  a blanket like a burrito. You’re leaning heavily to the right on Aizawa with your legs propped up on Hizashi’s lap. 

There’s some kind of comedy movie on that Hizashi’s been wanting to watch for a while. You’re only half paying attention as you look down at your hand that’s locked with Aizawa’s. “Sho.” You mumble, nuzzling into his neck. He hums, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. “I love you.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your head while you reach out your other hand to Hizashi with a grabbing motion. “I love you too. I love both of you. My boys.”

[vinciwolf]

Of Winners and Losers 2

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Reader Part 2 | here is Part 1

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, masturbation, biting, smut with a small plot, mentions of blood and gore.

            Did you regret what you made Crosshair do at the cantina? Not one bit. Because if it weren’t for making him streak, you wouldn’t be under him right now having your soaking pussy bumped full of his cock.

           Your legs shake from the merciless pace of Crosshair’s thrusts. Wrapping your legs and arms around his torso, your head shoots back and you let out a whimper when he hits a sweet spot. Your walls clench around his pulsating cock and he groans into your shoulder. A yelp escapes your mouth when he bites down hard, growling. You grip his face and make him look at you. A small drip of blood slips down his chin. You lap up the blood with a flick of your tongue then smirk at the sniper, running your hands over his chest. Sneering at you, he yanks your head back with your hair and sucks the length of your neck.

           You moan and squirm under Crosshair’s heated touch when his hand starts assaulting your breast. The grip on your hair releases and he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and picks up speed. The new angle allowed Crosshair’s cock to grind into your hole with excruciating pleasure. Knots and coils in your stomach tightened from the pressure, your orgasm about to split through you.

           “I—I hate you,” you grip the sniper’s hair and kiss his neck, the muscular rings of your entrance burn from his violent thrusts. Waves of numbing heat shoot through your nerves as you near your high.

           “Do you regret what you did?” Crosshair’s warm, shaky words hit your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

           “Never,” you spit.

           Your nails scratch and grip the muscular cords of his back as he moves in and out of you. Your hand moves to your clit and circles the bud desperately. The sniper moans when your walls grip hard around his cock.

           Crosshair holds your ass in the air and drives harder into you, breathing becoming loud and heavy against your ear. A gasp hitches in your throat when he bites your neck again, his grip tightening around your form as he nears his high. He’s whimpering into you. Your fingers rake into his skin, eyes rolling back as white heat cracks your pussy open. Crosshair’s cum stuffs you full, the warm shots of liquid pulsating into your walls.

           Crosshair sits up on his haunches, head leaning back, eyes closed from the high. His abs flex with each gulp of air and you notice small droplets of sweat glistening on his forehead and chest. Your hand grazes his stomach and he recoils, coming back to the moment. He pulls out, a string of cum connecting your pussy to the head of his dick. The sniper sighs at the damp stains on his pants. He stands up and shakes his pants off, leaning down to pick up your discarded clothes.

           “Get out,” he chunks your garments at your face, “and get off my bed.”

           “A bed that you just fucked me on,” you hiss back at him.

           He turns around, still butt naked, and folds his arms across his chest.

           “This never happened. Got it?” He eyes you with a pointed stare.

           You reluctantly stand up, cum dripping from you sore entrance, and put on your clothes. That night, your mind was disoriented. You and Crosshair fucked! You couldn’t help feeling hurt though. Crosshair knew how you felt but didn’t feel any connection or feelings during your embrace. You fell asleep thinking he hated you and only used you for a good time.

~

           Crosshair was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind couldn’t stop swimming with images of you underneath him, moaning and scratching his skin. It felt good. Very good to finally have you. He couldn’t deny his feelings. You slowly grew on him from the moment you joined the Bad Batch. Your smile, your kindness, the way you held yourself up against the world. It was beautiful and suffocating. He drapes his elbow over his eyes. Then why did you throw her out right after fucking her?

           He sighs. The images kept flooding his mind. The hand resting on his stomach inched forward. Crosshair’s breath hitched in his throat as his fist pumped the length of his cock. He imagined you beneath him again, but this time it wasn’t hate-fucking. His mind remembered how you felt around him. Warm…smooth… tight. Or how his cum dripped down your thighs when you stood to get dressed.

           Don’t go.

           “(Y/N),” Crosshair fists the bed sheets, eyes screwed shut.

           His eyes shoot open when he feels hot liquid drip down his hand. He looks down at himself and chuckles. He had cum thinking about you.

~

           The Bad Batch had recently taken a mercenary job for a small city needing help with pest control. But by pest, they meant an infestation of giant parasites that often terrorized the citizens. Currently, you and Tech were placing bombs on the sides of the insect’s burrowed tunnels while the rest hunted for the queen and her nest. The idea was to draw in the horde by killing the queen, then crushing the rest of the parasites inside by collapsing the tunnels.

           “So,” Tech looked over his shoulder.

           “Don’t even start,” you grumbled, attaching another bomb to the wall.

           “I can tell he feels terrible,” he taps on his datapad to prepare the bombs for a synced detonation.

           “I’d love to shove on of these bombs right up Crosshair’s uptight asshole.”

           Tech snickers, patting your shoulder gently.

           “Let’s go prep the Marauder.”

~

           This was not how the mission was supposed to go. You were waiting inside the tunnel entrance when you heard yelling. Running to Hunter’s aide, you noticed just how angry the team made the horde of parasites. You scream into your comlink telling Tech to bring the Marauder to Hunter’s location. He sustained a gash on his leg. The sergeant also screamed to “be ready to blow the kriffin’ hell outta these bugs!”

           The smallest dot of light beamed at the edge of the tunnel. Victory was so close… until your leg was snared by a large pincer. Exploding through the grown, one of the parasites snatched your leg, making you trip.

           “Wrecker, take Sarg!” you kicked the parasite in its ugly face while Wrecker carried Hunter to safety.

            Another bug jumped on top of you. You struggled to hold its large pincers away from your neck. It screamed loudly, exposing its sharp fangs. Crosshair ran back for you and kicked the parasite off your body. He took aim and blew its head off, guts and piss going everywhere. The sniper hoisted you up by your arm and you both ran. It was going to be okay. You and Crosshair made it out of the tunnel, Wrecker and Hunter already making their way into the ship.

           You remember the adrenaline of victory washing over you as you slid into the co-pilot chair. Tech maneuvered the Marauder out of the blast zone before Wrecker detonated the bombs. The cave collapsed, taking every parasite with it.

           You remember smiling from you chair at the boys’ celebration on another successful mission. You stood up to join. Wrecker was pumped, then he stilled. Crosshair’s eyes filled with dread.

           You remember a sharp burn. Looking at your boots, warm red liquid dripped down your pants and pooled on the floor. Your skin shivered and your lungs suddenly locked up. Your hand pulled back your jacket to reveal a stinger lodged in your stomach, blood oozing from the wound. As the stinger came out, black venom leaked from the gaping hole. 

           Tears filled your eyes as you looked to Crosshair. The world slowed when you collapsed onto the hard, metal floor.

           Everything went black.

[theheartsmistakes]

The Last Night Part XXIV

Parts I-XXII:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Here is Part XII

Part XIII

Part XIV

Part XV

Part XVI

Part XVII

Part XVIII

Part XIX

Part XX

Part XXI

Part XXII

Part XXIII

XXIV.

(Author’s Notes: I noticed a slight mistake in my last post. Thomas would be Lucie’s second cousin, not first cousin, because he’s the cousin of her cousin. They are not in fact related at all, only Anna and Christopher would be related to Lucie, James, and Thomas. Ugh, it’s all very confusing. Anyway, Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays! I hope whatever you and your family celebrates, it was wonderful and special. Thank you for being patient for this update. Next update is coming Jan 3.)

James pushed their horse and carriage through the streets at a blinding speed, taking corners on two wheels at times that had Cordelia gripping the sides of the carriage and bracing herself at the velocity; filled with too much concern for Lucie that fear for herself could not fit. Once Magnus had successfully removed the block on her memories, a flood of terrifying images filled her mind.

The demon that had attacked their carriage.

Alastair bleeding on the brick pavement.

Lucie running towards her through a cloud of orange sand and Belial greeting her with a malicious grin.

Lucie could see ghosts. No, not only see them. She could command them. Conjure them. And he wanted to use that ability to command an ultimately unbeatable army.

James took a turn up on the sidewalk, nearly removing a postal box in the process. Luck be it, Magnus glamoured the carriage so that as they flew by and around the crowds of people moving through the congested streets of London, all the pedestrians felt was a harsh gust of wind that gently scooted them out of the way or immediately stopping them so that James could maneuver around in time. When James had begged him to come along, Magnus insisted that he needed to find James’s parents and tell them of Belial’s interest in their youngest child. It was imperative that they find Lucie and bring her back to Magnus’s cottage where he could form guards around her.

Somehow Cordelia knew that if Belial wanted access to her, he would find it. For he had somehow found Cordelia in the middle of London and held her life and her brother’s in his hands.

Alastair. The warmth evaporated from Cordelia’s face as she reached for James’s wrist to look at his watch. She cursed when she found that it was already thirty minutes past three. Alastair would be on his way to look for her now. This would not help James’s standing with him, but she didn’t have enough time to concern herself with her brother at the moment. She’d deal with him once Lucie was safe.

James had barely brought their horse to a slow trot before he jumped from the driver’s seat of the carriage at the front of his Aunt Cecily’s manner.

He ran around the carriage to assist Cordelia, but she was already on the ground and ahead of him.

The garden door was open. There was a chill in the air that was usually absent in the presence of Cecily Lightwood’s quaint cottage. It felt as if it’d been cloaked in darkness- the way she felt when she’d been dragged to the shadow realm by Belial. She wouldn’t allow herself to think of it. Perhaps it was just fear for Lucie that she was allowing her worst thoughts to enter her mind.

James stayed beside her, taking the stair two at a time in a way her skirts wouldn’t allow her. She heard a terrible rip and suddenly her legs had more room to stretch. She didn’t slow or care even as her hair spilled from the delicate coronet her maid had done her hair in as she kept pace with James.

They barreled down the hallway just as two figures stepped out from the room at the end of the hallway.

“Thomas!” James yelled as he skid to a stop. Cordelia behind him reached out for the figure beside Thomas.

“Alastair!” She screeched, nearly colliding with him when she noticed a dark patch across the front of his shirt. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” said Alastair and glanced between her and James. “I was, but I’m not anymore.”

“What happened?” asked Cordelia as James pushed his way past Thomas into the bedroom. “Where is Lucie?”

Thomas and Alastair looked between each other and before either one of them could say a word, Cordelia felt the warmth drain from her body. “No.”

“He was going to kill Alastair,” said Thomas, shame filled his voice. “She gave me no other choice. She nearly broke my nose escaping.”

“He has her?” asked Cordelia as she moved past them into the bedroom to see for herself.

James stood in the center of the room staring wildly at Grace and a boy, no older than the rest of them, kneeling on the ground besides Tatiana Blackthorn. Cordelia’s hand went to her mouth as she realized the woman was dead.

“What did you do?” James demanded of Grace who hunched over her dead mother. “What did you do!?”

“Don’t speak to her in that way,” said the boy.

“Who are you?” asked Cordelia, coming beside James.

The boy slowly rose to his feet. He stood nearly as tall as James, with dark hair and eyes the most beautiful shade of green. “My name is Jesse. Jesse Blackthorn.”

“Impossible,” said Alastair with a hand still clutching his chest. “Jesse Blackthorn died a long time ago.”

Grace sobbed into her mother’s corset. “Yes,” said Jesse, “I was— I was brought back through a bargain my mother had with Belial. An exchange of sorts. My mother thought she was only bringing him the items he needed to resurrect me, and she was so desperate to achieve it she never suspecte what she was actually doing was collecting exactly what Belial needed to create himself a temporary physical form. It didn’t last long, just long enough for him to take Lucy and leave.”

“Why bring you back to life then?” asked Alastair. “If he got what he wanted then why bring you back?”

“To keep Lucie compliant, I suppose,” said Jesse.

“Why would you keep Lucie compliant?” asked James, tightening his grip on a knife Cordelia hadn’t seen him draw. “Did you have something to do with this? Were you working with Belial too?”

“No,” said Jesse. “No, I was trying to protect her. She— she was the only one that could see me; could talk to me.”

“And you took advantage of that,” said Alastair.

“No,” insisted Jesse. “We formed a friendship. We helped each other. I saved your life James, I gave away my last breath after the first attack with Belial, and because of that Lucie made it her mission to bring me back to life. I didn’t realize until it was too late that she had formed an alliance with my sister who was under the control of my mother and Belial.”

James looked down at Grace.“Do you know where he’s gone?”

“There is no getting to him,” said Jesse.

“I’m not asking you,” whispered James in a way that sent a chill down Cordelia’s spine and fear that if he were to ever use that tone on her, even she might cower. “Where can I find him?”

Cordelia felt as if she might faint. She took several steps backward until her back hit the wall.  

“I don’t know,” shuttered Grace, still clutching her mother’s mink coat.

James stood straight and dragged his hands through his hair until tuffs of it were sticking out from between his fingers. He turned to Thomas and the two began whispering to one another in low voices. Cordelia felt Alastair come to stand beside her, but couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge him. The memories of him lying on the brick ground bleeding were too fresh in her mind, confusing the way that she felt about him when she left the Institute earlier that day. She’d been so angry with him; she hadn’t known that they were moments away from losing each other.

She couldn’t think about that now. There’d be time for forgiveness later, for now, she needed to help find her friend.

Grace pressed her mother’s hand against her cheek. Her tears poured over her mother’s rings, one on nearly every finger. A memory flashed before Cordelia’s mind of Belial twisting a ring around his finger while he spoke to her. A thick, silver one on his boney thumb.

“Grace,” said Cordelia, pushing herself away from the wall and stepped towards the mourning girl who looked so much like a child curled up on the floor. She dropped onto her knees and brushed Grace’s lovely soft curls that she’d once envied away from her face. “I am so terribly sorry for the loss you’ve suffered.” Grace closed her eyes as more tears rolled down her cheeks. “I cannot pretend to imagine how you feel, nor will I, and I want you to know that no one blames you.”

She heard a scoff over her shoulder.

“They’re going to blame her,” said Grace. “She was just trying to save me and my brother. She didn’t want to be alone, and they’re all going to vilify her for it— and me.”

Cordelia understood all too well wearing the sins of one’s parents. Her father tainted their family name long ago. A stain that she’d have to shoulder and battle everyday.

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” said Cordelia patting her gently on her back. “Your mother trusted you over everyone else. Did she ever tell you how she conversed with Belial? There had to be some way that she contacted him or he contacted her and if you can help us learn this information and save Lucie, perhaps we can restore some honor back to your mother. Perhaps she can leave this earth having saved your brother and helped to defeat Belial.”

The room grew quiet around her and Grace sniffled. “She never told me directly.” Cordelia held her breath and Grace lowered her mother’s hand and held index finger. “One day, I saw her playing with this ring and thought it peculiar because I’d never seen it on her hand before nor have I ever noticed her playing with it. She dismissed herself from the room and went to her study. I heard her talking rather loudly with someone inside, but when I tried to open the door it was locked. When I mentioned it later, she suggested that I must have been hearing things, but I know that I heard a voice with hers. A male voice. The kind of voice that you do not forget.”

They all stared down at the ring on Tatiana’s finger; everyone too fearful to touch it.

Thomas was the first to speak. “Should one of us put it on?”

“No,” said Alastair. “No one touch it. We should wrap it up and bring it to the adults.”

“We don’t have time for that,” said James and reached for the ring, but Cordelia slapped his hand away.

“Alastair is right,” said Cordelia. “We don’t know what this ring could do if one of us puts it on. It could kill us or something worse.”

“But Lucie,” insisted James.

“Lucie would not be much better if the ring kills one of us and our one chance of finding her is ruined,” said Cordelia as she ripped a piece of her skirt and used it to carefully remove the ring from Tatiana’s stiffening finger. “We’re taking it to Magnus and we’re going to pray he knows what to do with it.”