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marshmallowprotection · 29 days ago

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Deliverance

Pairing: Unknown/Assistant Reader Description: As passionate feelings grow between you and your boss, you can't help but wonder if your allegiance is to him or to the so-called Paradise you're a part of. Perhaps, you'll find the answer in each other's arms. Set in the Iris Universe. Note: (You don't have to read the main story to have context, though if you want to avoid spoilers, this story contains content up to chapter 9. This is a one-shot based on a completed story!) [Read on AO3]

Unknown’s heart was a mysterious thing.

It had a way of revealing what was on his mind well before he ever showed it. If it started to beat faster for no apparent reason, you knew you needed to lean against his chest and nuzzle your cheek against his throat. It was unspoken, something to do because you wanted him to feel safe, and although he never said it, you knew it mattered.

He wasn’t the type to admit he was nervous, much less afraid, so being able to cut through the fog and catch his anxiety before it caught up to him was a godsend. You hated to feel his chest quiver, to hear his voice crack, and to watch as his work turned from coherent to a sloppy mess.

The Savior once told you that he was cold, unfeeling, and committed to the cause of Paradise more than anyone else had ever been. He didn’t make mistakes, nor did he let his emotions get in the way, but she couldn’t have been any further from the truth when she said that.

It wasn’t that he didn’t experience those feelings, it was a lot more like he only experienced them when he knew the door was locked tightly and not a soul would dare to come inside. It only took you a few weeks to realize a man like Unknown couldn’t survive unless he made himself believe the lie about strength.

Fear was a sign of weakness in the long story of the survival of the fittest, and to display it was akin to a sin in the first degree. You couldn’t blame him for learning how to bite his tongue in favor of giving the guards ammo to use against him and benefit from the reward of being more “committed” to paradise than he was.

The paradise you lived in before you found yourself swept away in his arms never once put you in a position where you had to fight to prove yourself.

But, you couldn’t help but wonder if the only reason why that was had to do with your ability to go along with every word they fed you. You never once doubted the offer the Savior put on the table because everyone else had failed you up until that point.

Nobody gave you a reason to trust them, to believe them, or to stick around longer than you needed to. Magenta gave you a home where you could tend to the flowers all day and not think twice about the humans fluttering behind your back. You didn’t have to be afraid, and because of that, you didn’t think anyone else was, either.

Until you met Unknown, of course.

You didn’t hear the sound of a relaxed heartbeat unless he was asleep, and even then, that could be cast aside at a moment’s notice because of his night terrors. Unknown had those every other day, but they were particularly worse on those days when he came home from meeting with the Savior.

His meetings with her had become more frequent as of late because of the updates he had to discuss in detail about the mission, but he stayed with her a lot longer than he needed. He had no reason to stick around explaining how the party coordinator hadn’t done anything noteworthy yet; Unless, of course, the Savior was interested in learning about all the ways a human could entertain themselves in an apartment that had nothing of interest inside of it.

You couldn't say for certain what she wanted one way or the other because you weren't privy to those conversations. He took care of them while you stayed in your office to work on what little you could do by yourself. It wasn't such a bad thing all things considered.

Your time alone gave you a chance to figure out your next move and what you could suggest next. You were determined to make sure your boss got what he wanted, but as the hours ticked away, you had less to do.

The longer he was away, the more worried you became.

Spending time with the Savior was supposed to be seen as a luxury… Even if it was for work. She was a busy woman who didn't have a single moment to spare and if she was willing to give it to you, you were meant to be grateful for every second of it. Unknown didn't see it that way. You were almost certain that he was the only one who saw things the way he did.

His voice was always filled with snark when he talked about her and she was no longer in earshot to be the wiser. He said things that nobody else would dream of saying, and yet, he also believed one day Mint Eye would get everything the Savior promised, too. It was a contradiction but you knew him to be a contrarian. To be spiteful purely for the sake of getting under someone's skin so they would never forget him or his strength.

His dream was a part of the future the Savior promised you, but there were times when you couldn't help but wonder if everything you were promised on the first day would come to fruition. The grandiose idea of a paradise hasn't been the appeal.

At least, not for you. The splendor of this paradise was that you had an oasis to convene in nature with the flowers.

Well, you did, until the day he caught you worrying about the Iris you had planted and decided you would become his assistant.

But, although you missed the gentle smells of the Earth beneath your feet, being with him was pleasurable, too. There was no denying that being with him was like being with the flowers. You wouldn't have traded that feeling for anything in the world.

Sure, there was never any grass between your toes as you pressed your head against his chest, but there you didn’t need that to feel him. You wanted to go back to that feeling.

You wanted him back in his chair so you wouldn't feel empty inside. He had been gone long enough and your patience was wearing thin. He didn't leave because he wanted to, he left because he had to.

You never had to worry about pretenses or the games people played to survive the stupid formalities of society. He said what he meant and never left you feeling like you didn't know which way was up or down. Unlike the world that made it hard for you to be yourself, the world he existed in felt like it could be your home. The game you felt like you started without a guide disappeared.

It came as naturally as a drop of water on your tongue.

That home was better than anything you could've had out there. That was why you’d settled into his embrace when you realized how warm he was compared to what you had before. You could imagine a paradise with him better than any old promise of Heaven. It all seemed so fleeting until him.

But, the Savior's Eternal Party?

As wonderful as it sounded… The last thing you wanted to do was spin around on the dance floor with people who didn't understand you the way Unknown did. It wasn't like you would turn away a believer if they tried to understand you, but in all your time on the compound, nobody dared to approach you.

It felt like you'd been given what you wanted in the first place: To stop feeling the eyes of the world on the back of your head every time you take another step forward.

It would have been different if he was there with you, you thought. You would've been able to dance forever if his fingers were intertwined with yours. The world could have its eyes on you but you wouldn’t bother with them as long as he was there to ease your heart.

Sure, he would taunt you for being so fragrant but you wouldn’t have it any other way. His gnashing teeth and bitter heart endeared his soul to yours. Any crowd felt miles away as long as he was there.

But, in truth, it didn’t change the feeling of isolation in your heart. As much as you didn't like to be around other people because they didn't understand you, it wasn't possible to live in a world without people. You still had to talk to others to get by, and much less than that, isolation could drive a man mad.

Nobody in the world was meant to be alone forever, not even if they preferred things to be that way. It was one thing to be with somebody who understood you in a sea of those who were just as lost as you were, but it was another to know he was the only one in the crowd who adored you.

Your mind wouldn't have been full of these thoughts had he returned from his meeting on time. It wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but all the same, you were worried about him.

There was plenty of work to do and it certainly wouldn’t have hurt you to stare at your notes to piece together the next step, but as the clock continued its notorious tick, your skin crawled. How long could the Savior keep him? How long would she tell him to stick around and do something for her when his time was better spent with you?

You certainly couldn’t have done his job for him. He trained you on the basics but beyond that you were hopeless. You could only stare at CCTV footage and watch for any abnormalities that fizzled up whenever the coordinator left the apartment for whatever reason.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary but that didn't mean it couldn't happen. The situation could change at any second, and getting comfortable would be to allow your mind to become complacent. You certainly weren't going to let your guard down.

You kept an eye on it because he couldn’t. Your boss couldn't account for every scenario if he stretched himself thin. Doing what you could saved him time so his eyes could better adjust to the real nuisance.

Didn’t the Savior know that the longer she kept him, the more likely it was that the team you were fighting would notice his absence?

You had seen him fight the same person again and again, tooth and nail, and the cracks between sleeping and eating were the only moments when they could hit the other with something to convey the threat presented. Sure, the less he struck that guy, the less likely he was to start digging, but how long would that last when the goal was to make them bend to your whims?

It couldn’t last forever, and you knew that if someone struck the servers when Unknown was gone, you would never have a chance to strike back before they won. Your rudimentary skills could’ve only worked in your favor if your opponent was a high schooler or a middle schooler at best.

As you watched screens remain in their unchanging state, you breathed in, praying that the door lock would shutter open in between your exhale and he would take up all the space in the room again.

Would the Savior have cleaned him this time, you wondered. His breath reeked of the elixir for hours after their visits, much more than the few minutes yours would burn after you took yours during Mass.

Still, it had only recently gotten to a point where the symptoms were noticeable compared to his usual standoffish attitude. It wasn’t hard to miss now that you knew the signs, but to the average believer, there was no way they would’ve been able to tell the difference.

Why would they? There was a reason he was named as the strongest believer, and at one point, you thought he was immune to the side effects that plagued those who were imperfect.

But, even Unknown wasn’t perfect.

Not by the Savior’s standards.

It was a blasphemous thought.

Nobody was supposed to question the Savior’s grand design. You would have never dreamed of doing that to her face, after all, as wonderful as it was to be cradled in her arms, after the last time you'd spent with her in the chambers of salvation, you weren’t as enamored with the thought as you had once been.

It stung, as a stark reminder of how she could sweep you away from your job as if your once praised work faded to nothing more than an afterthought. It wasn’t easy to ignore the chill that ran down your spine as you thought back on what your boss told you as he stumbled in and out of consciousness after a night he spent with the Savior.

Although he never outright said what he meant, you didn't need him to fill in the blanks. You could very well figure out what he meant on your own, and the idea went against everything you thought you knew about paradise. You hadn’t dared to ask him what happened to the gardeners… the ones who hadn’t been as lucky as you to get a reassignment.

It wasn't unheard of for believers to go missing… but… to the average person, they were but a blip in the background.

People who weren’t fit for paradise were exiled, right?

They were sent back to the outside world or they were given a chance to prove themselves to the Savior and those who operated the chapel, right?

She was going to get rid of the gardeners.

I couldn’t let that happen to you, Iris.

You tried not to think about it. You weren't supposed to think about anything that went against your faith in this place that saved you when you had nothing else. You didn't want to think about it.

You didn't want to question everything you knew. It wasn't like you to think that hard about these things because you were finally in a place where you felt seen, and the thought of doing something to throw a wrench in that reality made you feel sick to your stomach.

How could you turn against something that accepted you with open arms when no one else would? How could you think about something that didn’t align with the promise of the word eternal? How could you doubt the woman who promised you everything for the rest of your days? Even if you had to fight to prove yourself, how was that any different than trying to make sense of the world out there except with a shelter that held a tender promise to not let go?

Mint Eye wasn't a terrible place.

It wasn't perfect but it didn't have to be.

The offer extended to you was one where you would never have to worry about the judgment of society hanging over your head.

You didn't have to fit into a bubble nor did you have to be someone you weren't. You could be yourself. You could be that outcast who didn't want to be a cog in the machine and not worry about a roof over your head. It was a good deal, and most people wouldn't think twice about it.

The only thing you had to offer them in return was the bitter taste of a drink down your throat twice a week ’til the day you learned how to accept salvation.

If he hadn't extended his hand to you, you would have ended up somewhere else in the building. Sure, you wouldn't have been given a glamorous job, but it would not have been hard to find something to occupy your time.

They always needed a new batch of people to work in the cleaning staff, after all. They had a strange rate for turnovers, but you figured that was because people didn't want to spend their days cleaning when they could be productive in paradise in other ways. It was still an important job, but you could imagine they would have sent you there to do the duty of a loyal believer.

That had to be the case, it didn't make sense to send people away when this was the only place that would accept them. You wouldn’t have disappeared… he was speaking from exhaustion. That was all you could tell yourself. It was better for your peace to remind yourself that not everything he said made sense when the elixir fog took control of his senses.

But, no matter how much I try to wrap my head around it… I can't shake the look he gave me that day. He sounded truly terrified at the thought that he might never see me tending to the flowers again. As much as he bothered me that day, he seemed so happy to know that somebody cared about the well-being of the flowers down to the smallest plot of grass. I don't know why she would want to get rid of my team but I can't look into it no matter how much I want to.

I don't want to know the answer.

I don't want to question paradise.

The moment that thought rang through your head, the door opened and you quickly turned around to see who had arrived. Much to your relief, it was him, not the Savior. His eyes weren't cloudy, nor were they perplexed.

All signs that Unknown hadn’t been given the elixir while he stayed with her, and as rare of a treat as that was, you couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t come back with exhaustion burned across his face. It wasn't like you had good news to share. It didn’t seem like the plan was going to make any progress any time soon, and for that, she would want to make sure neither of you forgot the mission.

A little bit of pressure in the right direction to make sure nothing got in the way of your long-term plan. A reminder to never take his eyes off of the prize. A reason to remember how he earned the position of the strongest in the first place.

He had to take it no matter what and if the Savior was the one who gave it to him, you would take it over the believers who offered their service in the chapel. They weren’t kind in their application, but they were chosen to save those who needed to be saved in times of desperation.

The Savior was gentle about it.

Her punishment was gentle by nature because of who she was and the promise she made. You had to remind yourself of the goal, of the end game, and of the paradise you would soon call your own. You had no reason to doubt her nor did you have a reason to pay any heed to those thoughts that wouldn’t go away.

All you had to let yourself see was the truth in front of your face. Your boss was safe and sound. The look on his face was of relief and not of misery. He wouldn’t need you to hold him until he choked down enough water to cut back the acid reflux. He wouldn’t need you to kiss his forehead and coax his weary eyes to rest.

He could return to his task and work alongside you until the end of the day when you could wrap your arms around him and go to sleep.

“Boss!” you exclaimed, unable to hide your excitement as he shrugged off his robes and let them crumple on the floor rather than put them back on the hanger. “You were gone so long I thought you might miss dinner. Not that dinner was gonna be more than these snacks I picked out, but—”

“I’m not in the mood,” he said, drly.

Your face fell. It wasn't as if you expected him to greet you with excitement, hell, it wasn’t like you to bounce onto your feet and scream his name in jubilation, either. But, you missed him. You missed his embrace while you sat there thinking about a world that didn’t belong to you. He was your world and when he was away, there was nothing you wanted more than to have him back.

Was it possible he had a headache? You knew how difficult it was for him to make sense of his thoughts whenever he had a migraine.

He could barely remember how to say your name when his pain was that bad. He felt hundreds, if not thousands, of tiny needles, poking their way into his skull when he felt like that. You’d suffered from headaches before but never to that extent. Who had the energy to talk when every word felt like it nudged the needles further into their skull, anyway?

You looked down, but it wasn’t long before he spoke up again. “I didn’t say I wanted you to shut up. I just said I wasn’t in the mood for dinner. That’s all.”

“Oh.”

Why did you assume otherwise?

He seemed to ask himself the same question. He leaned over his chair and propped himself up against the armrest as you tilted your head to meet his gaze, “When was the last time you slept, [Y/N]?”

“...In your arms?”

Unknown didn’t seem amused by your quip. “I didn’t ask where, I said when. No wonder you’re out of it.”

“I wasn’t going to sleep while you were gone,” you tore your eyes away from him. It would’ve been too risky to close your eyes when he was away. You would never risk his hopes and dreams for five minutes of rest. “Who knows what those idiots would’ve done if they didn’t have eyes on their backs? As if I’d give them a second of peace when we can’t have that.”

“Man, you’re starting to sound like me,” he snorted. The sound wasn’t familiar to you. It wasn’t like him to laugh after a visit with the Savior… but it wasn’t like him to return without being cleansed, either.

He cupped your face in his hands so you wouldn’t be able to look away again. “I can’t say I hate it. You want nothing more than to make them weep at my heel for mercy that will never come. But, as much as I want to revel in their ultimate despair tonight, what use is there in a burnt-out assistant who can’t even get their facts straight?”

What use is there in a burnt-out boss who can’t even enjoy their screams of terror because he’s falling all over himself?

He used your own words against you. He knew how to cut through the bullshit and strike where it mattered. You could give him a run for his money and then he would do the same to you. He didn't have to mince his words any more than you did with him.

But, for whatever reason, his words stood out the most whenever he decided to use something you used first. He didn't put stock into other people or their beliefs outside of the Savior, so to hear your words on his lips felt like praise of the highest reward. He wasn't mocking you, but it would be easy for someone to suspect otherwise when they didn’t know him as well as you.

You stared into his eyes, expression unreadable. “What are you going to do about it, then?”

“I’m going to take you to bed.”

[The rest of the fic can be located on AO3.]

#iris #mystic messenger #mysme #mm #mysticmessenger #saeran choi #choi saeran #unknown #unknown x reader #saeran x reader #unknown mm #mm unknown #mysme unknown #mystic messenger unknown #unknown mysme #unknown mystic messenger #mod kait #shoutout to my iris fans who got their wish four years later

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fourraccoonsinacoat · 1 year ago

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Four's Masterlist of Fics

Thanks for stopping by my weird little corner of Tumblr! I am thrilled to have you here!

Bit About Me:

You can call me Four.

She/Her

Writer who wishes she could draw/paint, so I live vicariously through my talented artist mutuals.

Currently, I've got an ongoing Warhammer 40k: Rogue Trader fic (Heinrix x RT), as well as some Baldur's Gate 3 fics (Astarion x Durge).

I write fanfiction for myself as a way to decompress from life and because I enjoy sharing my stories with others. It legitimately makes my day when someone is entertained by my writing, so thank you for every comment, like, message and kudo. Much love and appreciation to you all!

Ao3 Account - All of my fanfic works are crossposted to Ao3.

BG3 Incorrect Quotes - If you're here for BG3 Incorrect Quotes, follow that link for the masterlist.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Rogue Trader - - -

Ongoing Work

Mongrel Hearts / Read on Ao3 Current Rating: M Updates: Weekly on Fridays Playlist & Chapter Index Heinrix van Calox is a watchdog of the Inquisition. Bound by duty and fueled by a deep-seeded shame, he continues to serve the Imperium the only way he’s ever been allowed, on the tight line of a leash. Obedient and steadfast, Heinrix has always been eager to prove himself. And yet, no amount of accolades or praise will ever assuage him from feeling like a vile cur, simply grateful to not have been put down. Visenya von Valancius is a void wolf. Forced by circumstance into an existence where she has had to fight for every breath, she dreams of freedom from the tireless hunters who stalk her footsteps and seek her ruin. Thrust once more into a life she did not ask for, Visenya must now lead those who once saw her as nothing more than a mongrel. Both are strays in a war-torn galaxy, simply seeking a place to belong.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

One Shots

Hello My Demise: An incident in the Lord Captain's chambers on Janus concludes with Heinrix and Visenya sharing a moment of levity. You Feel It Too: Heinrix and Visenya share a close moment before her Magnae Accessio. Stay: (E NSFW18+) A heated conversation turns into a night of passion between Heinrix and Visenya. However, in the darkness of the night that follows, Heinrix is unable to escape the fears and anxieties that push in on him from all sides.

Mongrel Hearts Artwork:

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Beautiful depiction of the scene from Chapter 4 by @nananarc

Cute domestic scene of Visenya and Heinrix by @sanzosin

Portrait of Visenya by @jaal-ama-daravv

Portrait of Visenya and Fenrisian Wolf Skull Nomos by @thatzombiecat

Baldur's Gate 3 - - -

One Shots

In chronological order:

Fall for Me ---> Faint of Heart ---> Midnight Prayer

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Fall for Me Rating: E NSFW18+ Astarion wakes from a nightmare and goes to Eli, seeking reassurance as he struggles with the denial of his feelings. The last thing he wants to do is give someone else control over him, not after he’s so recently regained a taste of freedom. Over the past 200 years, every relationship Astarion was involved in had been nothing more than a means to an end, with Astarion either playing the role of manipulator or the one being manipulated. Attachments were leverage, giving someone a hook they were able to dig their claws into in order to gain ground. Isolating himself from connecting with others was how he had survived.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Faint of Heart Rating: M Somewhere along the way, more and more truth has begun to slip into the words Astarion has been using to charm Eli into his bed. He's not sure when it started, but sometime between their passionate nights and hard fought days, genuine feelings began to stir. It all comes to a head after the crew stages a prison break out of Moonrise Towers. Now, during a rare evening of respite, Astarion is determined to make a confession, regardless of his fears over the fallout.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Midnight Prayer Rating: M Neither Eli nor Astarion knows what they're doing when it comes to romance. Their combined histories with healthy relationships adds up to an unsurprising total of zero. Astarion once admitted to Eli that he couldn’t remember ever bedding the same person twice. And Eli…well, she can't remember anything, frankly. Her memories of past lovers are nonexistent…at least… At least until today. Today, when they’d finally met the infamous Enver Gortash.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Ongoing Work:

Head Full of Ghosts: On Hiatus Current Rating: M Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 Eli has spent a lot of time combing through her fractured psyche, trying to piece together any semblance of facts about who she was before she awoke on a mind flayer nautiloid. In all that self-reflection, she has concluded there are two things she is very good at. Killing people and drinking. Neither of which is proving very useful as she tries to navigate interpersonal pitfalls after being appointed leader of a ragtag group of maladjusted misfits who are trying to source a cure for the illithid tadpoles in their heads. As if that isn't problematic enough, she's also having to contend with the growing affections between herself and the group's resident vampire spawn, Astarion. Between fanatic cultists, goblin raids, murderous urges and cryptic memory loss, Eli figures a relationship is the last thing she ought to get herself wrapped up in. And from what she's seen of Astarion, the cavalier rogue seems to have his own breeds of specters haunting his steps. Neither one of them has any business mucking about with romance. But, neither one of them is particularly good at staying away from things that entice.

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blogger360ncislarules · 13 days ago

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The Gilded Age is back for Season 3, and the name on everybody’s lips is going to be… Gladys Russell? Wait, that can’t be right, can it?

Indeed, it is! Taissa Farmiga‘s oft-overlooked character is finally getting her turn in the spotlight this time around, beginning with Sunday’s premiere, which finds her at considerable odds with Bertha over the direction of her romantic future. Specifically, Gladys wishes to marry Billy Clark, with whom she has fallen hopelessly in love. But Bertha, ever the social climber, refuses to entertain the notion one iota, instead scheming for Gladys to end up with the Duke of Buckingham.

Faced with no other conceivable options, Gladys ends the episode by running away from home and disappearing into the night. It’s a rare act of defiance from the Russells’ obedient daughter, who typically does as she’s told, but Farmiga says it’s the first step on Gladys’ road to finally owning her power.

“It’s very satisfying to be with the character for three seasons and to see her grow and reach a moment of tangible progress,” Farmiga tells TVLine. Looking ahead to future developments, she teases, “There’s a huge shift in Gladys. You feel it in her whole being, and it’s incredible to be able to portray that.”

But as Gladys fights to escape from underneath her mother’s thumb, an even more tragic tale is unfolding at the Fane household, where Aurora’s husband announces his desire… for a divorce. Sure, she knew he’d been unhappy, and he’d been away for some time, but couldn’t they just stay in their miserable marriage like everyone else in their social circle?

“In this season, we say quite a lot about being married in the 1880s, and on the limits of your behavior, and also why you have to see it as a lifelong commitment — because if it wasn’t, it was going to be nothing but trouble,” series creator Julian Fellowes tells TVLine. “Divorce was becoming normal, but it was still very much disapproved of at the top end of society, and it was too expensive in most of the other parts of society. It was a dangerous thing to expose yourself to [public scrutiny] and expect to survive, especially as a woman.”

Speaking of scrutiny, that same fear is also what’s keeping Marian from going public with Larry. He’s ready to get down on one knee at a moment’s notice, but it’s only been a few months since her last engagement failed, and she simply can’t handle any public judgment right now.

Also in the Season 3 premiere…

* As if there wasn’t already enough change afoot in the world for Agnes’ liking, Ada is now the lady of the Van Rhijn household, creating serious confusion for the staff. Even worse, Ada is using her newly acquired status to champion the Temperance Movement, hosting meetings to spread the word about the evils of consuming alcohol. Ironically, Agnes has never needed a drink more in her life.

* Poor Peggy has caught a nasty cold, but she’s determined to work through the sickness in order to meet a writing deadline. (Been there!) Her condition worsens over the course of the hour, and by the time the Van Rhijns’ family doctor is called to the house, he won’t treat her because she’s Black. Even for the 1880s, this feels excessively racist.

* Is Larry doing right by our boy Jack? Word around the Van Rhijns’ staff quarters is that Larry isn’t letting Jack sit in on meetings with potential investors, despite Larry not actually understanding how the clock technology works. Sure, Larry promised to make Jack rich, but can he really be trusted to seal the deal?

* Josh — sorry, Monsieur — Baudin receives a letter of a most distressing nature. Or at least he assumes it’s going to be distressing. You’ll have to wait until Episode 2 to find out what it is! #slowburn

#the gilded age

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eventheodds · 1 year ago

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She has half a mind to reach up and grab hold of his chin in a silent gesture to get him to stop grinding his teeth, but the exhalation of breath does that for her as she considers what they will be doing next.

There is without a doubt that her and Wolfwood coming into that town, spotting him when they did, and convincing Vash to come with was the better option than anything else. Meryl had seen the wanted posters plastered all over bulletin boards and on the walls of saloons and inns. The money for capture would entice anyone to go looking to bring that bounty home.

She accepts the ruffling of her hair with as much grace as she’s willing to muster whenever he’s done it—which has been often because she’s predictable in ways that allows him to push her buttons. With her own put-upon sigh, like him moving from their position was such a chore and that she wanted to stay out here for a little while longer, Meryl stands up and brushes the few errant blades of grass from her backside.

The back of her clothes are slightly stained but since grass is such a novelty, she’s hardly bothered by it. She thinks Luida might find it amusing, Brad might comment about not helping her wash anything to get the stains out, but Meryl walks beside Wolfwood, catching up to him and his long strides.

“God, I really hope we don’t have to pull him out of anything,” she says as the automatic doors hiss open and the stark difference from within the dome met by the crisp and sharp corridor, one of many, that lead through the ship almost makes her stagger as they pass the threshold.

“He’s probably going to talk his way out of us accompanying him when he decides to leave.”

She and Wolfwood had witnessed Julai themselves—seen what became of the city and the crater it left behind.

“And if Vash survived…that probably means Knives did too.”

Two sets of footfalls become one as she stops mid step and stands in the centre of this corridor. She remembers the millions of blades coming at her, slicing through the air, ready to end her life just before Vash pulled her to safety, followed by the showdown, brother versus brother, as the sound of blades and bullets echoed throughout the chamber while she hid behind the control desk.

Perhaps the thing that scared her the most was when she was falling from the side of the roof, with nothing to hold onto as her body was prepared to plummet to the city below before Wolfwood caught her.

The bruises have long since healed but at times she’ll feel aches and pains in those same exact spots.

“Whatever comes next, he’s going after Knives.”

She’s looking at Wolfwood with a mixed expression of determination and fear before jogging to catch up so she’s right beside him.

Meryl touches on something that he has been chewing on all the way here, all during their stay on the ship. It has been a constant cadence back of mind. Plangent, despite the elation of finding Vash alive in spite of all of the what-ifs, in spite of everything stacked and arrayed against them.

Thinking has a way of putting a damper on just about any upbeat mood, Wolfwood finds, not that he has any right whatsoever to be thinking of any rosy outcome where he is involved. Even though he is here and ostensibly present in body, he stares off into the sunny middle distance, somewhere between the tree boughs and the sky beyond the dome.

And even if he holds Meryl to his side, he lapses silent, chewing on nothing. Grinding his teeth in simmering silence, he thinks about it.

Considers it.

And then after a few moments he draws a slow, expansive breath, glancing down and aside. As Meryl settles in, he keeps his arm extended and half-bent, a crook still offered in some semblance of comfort. Maybe it helps him too, not that he would admit it.

Probably.

"No, don't think he would've," Nicholas murmurs, and it sounds more like an admission than anything. They took Vash - Eriks - from a peaceful life, but surely they were not the only ones looking. The bounty on his head leapt from six million to sixty billion, astronomical, impossible. Only one organization could pull together that much capital if the bounty is even legitimate. Someone would have found him, and then what?

He knows what.

Exactly what happened. Shot while debasing himself before a false Vash the Stampede to save the family that took him in. They were there to help, at least, for all the good they did.

At least Brad and Luida have the facilities and the faculties to put him back together again.

"Might've been quiet for a minute, but he's the Humanoid Typhoon. 'Course something's gonna happen. Just need to make sure his ass stays alive."

Sure. That's it. That's all.

Distracting himself (and hopefully distracting her), he tilts his wrist to ruffle at her hair.

"C'mon. We should make sure he didn't fall in somewhere."

Whatever that means.

#full-of-mercy #it's the cracks that let the light shine through. — full-of-mercy.#verse: where the streets have no name.

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deleteddewewted · 3 years ago

Note

Hello how are you? It's ok if I request Yandere! Gyutaro with a demon slayer that he likes? But you know how Gyu is, he's not used to feeling attraction to someone else. Thank you!

Sour: Falling

Yandere! Gyutaro x Gn! Reader

❤️🖤Sweet And Sour Event (May 21 - June 26)(JJK, MHA, KNY Characters Only!)❤️🖤

❤️🖤Sweet And Sour Event Masterlist❤️🖤

W: Yandere, Kidnapping, Groping, Cumming Untouched, Blood, Dark

If you'd like to support my work (Check my Ko-fi and Throne!)

Ever since he was human he understood that his place in the world was to be hidden while his sister took the spotlight. It didn’t necessarily frustrate him, if anything it made him happy that she had the opportunity to be something. She was beautiful and helped provide for their needs, even if it was by sleeping with men who only cared for her body. That was the way things were, even after becoming demons. The only thing that truly changed was the pricing on Daki’s body.

He wished she wouldn’t need to prostitute herself for their survival but the odds were against them both. Demons were confined to the night and ate human flesh for sustenance. Whatever hope that once existed for them both was gone once they became the beings they are now. Whatever god could have shown them mercy, would no longer extend their hand to save them.

He wanted to spite everyone, and in a way, he did by killing annoying mortals and then consuming them. Even then, he didn’t feel complete. He admired Daki and her beauty because even as a demon it gave her access to paid affection. She was treated like royalty while he was left to hide and kill on her behalf. He envied the care she was given, the gentle touches and suffocating erotic high she experienced. He wanted it but he knew that no matter how much he desired it, he will never have it. That was until he saw you.

You poor thing, A low-ranking demon slayer that wandered into the redlight district by accident in search of an equally ranked demon. How pathetic did you both have to be to come to such a place? He didn’t care at all about the other demon lurking about the district but the look in your eye. It was precious.

Fear consumed you but so did determination. It made the heart that he neglected beat faster as he watched you struggle to track the demon. Your form, the way your uniform looked under the lantern lights, and the haori that you wore symbolized your technique. It was enthralling. It was uniquely you.

He watched as you tracked the demon and finally killed it. The body evaporated into the night sky and left nothing behind in its wake. You looked tired and malnourished, the travel and the hunt you participated in took all of your energy. You collapsed, your legs giving out from under you, and fell onto the dirt street. Gyutaro felt a knot form in his caved-in stomach as you raggedly breathed on the floor. He quickly made it to your side and picked up your body. You were so warm in his arms.

You woke up in an unfamiliar room. You swore you were just outside in the cold fighting a demon. You attempted to get off the floor but something pulled you back down. An arm had been draped around you and so was a body. You turned your head to look at the being next to you and immediately let out an ear-piercing scream.

“D-DEMON!!!!” You scrambled to get out of its grasp, your arms and legs failing to keep you up. You reached out for your sword but were quickly pulled back by the demon.

“Stop! You’re ruining everything!” Gyutaro grabbed you by your ankle and pulled you back into his lap. His arms wrapped around you and he placed his chin on top of your head.

“If you stay quiet and if you stay still, I won’t need to kill you.” His voice wavered as he spoke, hoping that you would understand that all he wanted was to help you.

“I want you here. You will stay here. So don’t complain.” He tightened his hold on you and rubbed his face into your neck. He wanted to scent you, wanted to claim you. It was the only way he would ever have you. Demons would stay far away from you and humans wouldn’t know any better. He would have you as his lover. He wanted to be treated like your partner. You were mortal weak and he was immortal and feared by all. He could have his love and keep you safe.

“You will be mine. I will be yours. But you have to stay still.” He bite into your neck, droplets of blood smearing his teeth as he sucked at the wound. He watched as your smaller body shook in fear and your eyes widened in anticipation.

“Your mine, my love. I will keep you safe.” He licked at your fresh bite mark to heal it and cuddled his face back into the crook of your neck for comfort. Your warm body flowed with life, maybe someday your tummy will carry his future children as well. He shifted your position so that your ass would be perfectly a lined with his hardened crotch. The pressure of your bottom against his sex was pleasurable. He rolled his hips to create friction and purred as it relieved his need. He was ashamed to admit he was inexperienced, that the simple touch of your body against this own sent him over the edge, but he knew that with time he would learn.

“Mine.” He murmured.

You sat in silence for hours, his arms never once leaving you and his cock pressed against your bottom. You felt how his cum smeared against your uniform but didn’t attempt to move. In the morning, once the sun shined bright, you’ll find an escape. You’ll leave and tell Ubuyashiki to send a Hashira to deal with the threat. But in the meantime, you’ll lay still against the demon who captured you. You’ll be patient and listen to the demon until you could escape it.

#gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyutaro x you #kimetsu no yaiba #Gyutaro #ask #dd answers #dd speaks #demon slayer #kny #Kimetsu no Yaiba

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Prisoner - Bucky Barnes

a/n: hi everyone! i am really excited to share this with you, because this one was written for a writing challenge! it is part of @wkemeup ‘s 9k writing challenge and it’s the first time i take part in anything like this with a Bucky fic! not that i have many but im sure more is about to come lol! let me know what you thought after reading!

prompt: Character A is possessed/controlled and attempts to harm Character B. [B] refuses to fight back in fear of hurting [A].

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: blood, violence, mind controlling, just the usual jazz lol

word count: 7.8k

masterlist

Bucky and you were a pair made in hell. Only that he is the only one out of the two of you who really went through the deepest and darkest corners of it while you were basically just waiting in the lobby, as you like to say it.

He wasn’t the only person HYDRA had plans with. Being an orphan from the age of four, you didn’t have the life you probably deserved. Abducted at the age of twenty, you lived in cells and labs for years before they gave you the serum, turning you into a super solider, with determined plans to turn you into a kind of winter soldier 2.0, eventually wiping your head like his and turning you into the perfect assassin. Only that before they could start with the torture, you were rescued by none other than Captain America during a raid on one of HYDRA’s secret bases.

The Avengers gave you shelter when you had absolutely nothing left in life. Your previous life was long forgotten, almost entirely non-existent, all you had is the safety these extraordinary people were offering you, that you took more than willingly.

You were there when Bucky was captured, still very much fighting with his own conscious. You were in the building when Zemo triggered him into being a murderer again and he broke free, fought his ex best friend, saved his life and then disappeared again. You often found yourself thinking about how you’d be just the same if you weren’t saved. How you’d be out there, used as just a toy to end lives.

You never had to go through the process of ripping this side of yourself out of your head, because they never succeeded with you. But Bucky didn’t have it as lucky as you did. When Shuri contacted you that he was awake from his hibernation and they were working on wiping the winter soldier out of him, you didn’t hesitate to drop everything and be there for him. You didn’t know him that well back then, but you felt like you shared a deep connection through the torturous things you had to go through. You were there for him until he finally became entirely himself. No more winter soldier, just Bucky.

The two of you have tens of missions together behind your back at this point. Partners in work, friends in life, that’s what you are. And in your dreams?

Definitely lovers.

Now as you are rotting in a dark and musty cell somewhere in the middle of Poland, you are starting to regret you never really told him how you feel. You had so many chances to come clear but you were too afraid of rejection and the possibility of ruining your strong friendship and most importantly partnership that you chose to keep it all bottled up inside you.

It might have been days or hours since they locked you in your cell, you wouldn’t know. You lost track of time and you’re not expecting to see the daylight anytime soon either. Are they looking for you? Or do they think you died? No one was around you when you were abducted and there were no signs left behind that would have let your team know you survived. There was a massive explosion near your location in the raid, anyone would easily think that you were caught in the middle of that.

Does Bucky think I’m dead too? Has he given up on me?

You’re starting to think you’ll never find that out. Just like how you’ll never find out what it’s like to grow old, have a home that’s not just a room in a facility, spend your days with your hobbies rather than trainings and missions.

As the thick metal door opens and a creak of light breaks the heavy darkness in your cell, you look up at the man who walks in. If your hands weren’t cuffed with fucking vibranium cuffs, you would easily kill him in a heartbeat along with the three bulky guards he brought with himself.

“It’s time to make a use out of you,” the man grinned before two guards grabbed you by your arms, dragging you out of the cell, taking you God knows here. Probably to your death.

“You have to check twice,” Buckly growled upon hearing Agent Hill’s report from what was found at the scene. Or what was not found.

“No signs of Y/N were found, Bucky. But that explosion was so massive, it wiped out everything in it’s close radius. If she stood close to that…” “But what if she didn’t?!” he snaps, barking at the innocent agent. The room falls silent, no one dares to speak up against Bucky’s raging anger. Fury steps forward and places a hand to the upset soldier’s shoulder as a soft warning to control himself. Bucky takes a deep breath before looking over at Fury, no longer determined to rip anyone apart who wants to argue with him.

“Let’s all calm down and see what we can do. Do you think she survived?” Fury simply questions him. Bucky taps on the panel and a map of the location pulls up on the big screen, showing a little red dot at the places where the team members were located last before the explosion.

“Her last location was far enough of it for her to survive,” he explains pointing at your dot.

“But if she moved just a little closer—“ Hill starts again, but she quickly silences herself when Bucky shoots her another warning look.

“I think she was captured. We can’t just assume that she is gone that easily,” he insists, refusing to even think about the possibility of you dying in that explosion. That’s just simply not an option for him.

Fury stares back at him hard, searching for something in his eyes before he finally nods.

“Alright, let’s get on the case. We need to find out where they could be possibly hiding her.”

Bucky breathes out in relief as the team gets down to work immediately. This is not the part he can help with, he sucks at technical things, so now he is left with just the painful wait until a lead pops up and he can come to your rescue.

The gym is eerily quiet without your bickering. He always trains with you and it’s been one of his favorite things to do. The two of you liked to race in everything and thought you both knew he was faster and stronger, he always let you win a few times, giving you the chance to tease him about being second after you.

But now as he is punching the heavy bag on his own, he wishes he could hear one of your snarky comments about his lopsided moves, because he still hasn’t entirely gotten used to the uneven strength in his hands.

“If she is really out there, I’m sure she is doing fine.”

Sam walks in, his steps echo in the empty room and though Bucky stops for a moment, he doesn’t look at him, just keeps punching the bag.

“She is tough, Bucky. She can take care of herself.”

“Not when she is outnumbered by a dozen,” he growls back. “I know she is tough, but sometimes that’s just not enough.”

For a long time Bucky thought Steve is the only person he can work with as partners, but he had to realize that he had a special bond with you through the tortures you both had to go through and sometimes he felt like you were the only one who understood him truly. Even though your brain wasn’t washed like his, you were close to it and it gave you a great understanding of what he had to go through.

But it wasn’t just about the trauma. As you grew closer to each other you easily became friends, really good ones for all that matters. Bucky loved spending time with you on and out of missions as well. He finds your humor a little dark but quite entertaining, he likes how you are more social than he is so whenever you need to work with someone else you always take the role of the communicator, building a bridge between him and others easily. He loves how much you care about others, how you show your appreciation for your loved ones in the tiny details as making breakfast or baking their favorite cookies. He loves the way you smile whenever he messes up something and you have to take care of it eventually, he loves the way you laugh at his lame, old jokes, he loves how you always fall asleep on horror movies and he loves…

He loves you.

For years he thought he would never feel this way again for anyone, because it’s so raw and human, he thought it was wiped out of him when he became the winter soldier, but you proved him wrong. And now he wishes he told you how he felt, because if you won’t return, he has to live his life knowing you never knew how much you meant to him.

Tossing and turning in his bed, he stays wide awake, not able to even close his eyes when he knows you are out there somewhere, because you have to be. He refuses to nurse the thought of you gone for even a second. You’re qualified, the best fighter he has ever met and he has this feeling in his gut that you made it out of there alive. Maybe you knew the explosion was about to happen. Maybe you ran the opposite way before it was too late. Or maybe you found shelter, or simply was just knocked out of the impact of it and they captured you.

So many possibilities that are way more better than the fatality of your death.

Kicking the silky sheets off his body, the ones he deep down hates because it’s way too smooth against his skin, something he still has a hard time to grow accustomed to, he pulls a hoodie over his head before creeping his way out of his bedroom, down the hallway until he reaches yours. He stands still at the door, a sense of anxiety washing over him as he thinks about what’s inside. Not that it’s the first time he is here, he has spent endless nights in your room, the two of you talking and laughing as you showed him your favorite movies he hasn’t seen. You often bought a big bag of snacks for your movie nights and the two of you sprawled across your comforter, your legs sometimes touching, or there was this one time when he let you braid his hair.

“You should come to missions like this,” he remembers your teasing as you ran your fingers through the neat braids running along his head.

“And give the boys another reason to tease me? No thank you,” he chuckled.

“Another? What do they tease you about?” you asked furrowing your eyebrows as you popped a gummybear into your mouth.

You. It was you they teased him about and how obvious his feelings for you are. Seemingly everyone saw how you looked at each other but you and him.

He twists the silver doorknob before pushing the door open, part of him hoping to see you curled up under the sheets, snoring lightly and peacefully, but the room is terribly empty without your presence.

Everything is just the way you left them. The abandoned workout clothes hanging from the edge of the hamper, your running shoes under the window, your journal lying on your nightstand with a pen on top and his favorite… a framed picture of you and him on your bookshelf with all your favorite romantic novels stacked neatly on the shelves.

Bucky steps closer, his hands hidden in the pooch of his hoodie as he stares at the photo. It was taken a few days after the two of you returned from Wakanda, Bucky was finally free from the winter soldier and it was probably the best few days of his life. The two of you decided to take a trip to London before returning to your duty, a place you always wanted to see, but never really got the chance. It was just the two of you, taking some time away from the avengers, SHIELD, all the bad in the world, pretending like you’re two normal people for just a weekend before returning to your duties in New York. The photo was taken when you returned from the getaway, Steve took it in the gym, the two of you sat at the edge of the boxing ring after a killer fight. It was a simple moment, his arm stretched behind you as you leant against his side. The glow from your alone time was still apparent on your faces, neither of you felt happier in life before, or not at least in the last decade.

His vision blurs as he runs a finger through the frame, a sharp pain stabbing in his chest as he watches your bright smile and rosy cheeks. He never thought he would feel this way about anyone, not after everything he went through, but you proved him wrong. You showed him how much more human he still is that what he thinks of himself and you might not even have realized it.

Too restless to go back to sleep, Bucky storms out of your room, carefully closing the door behind him before going down to Tony’s office, determined to make himself useful. He can’t just sit around and wait, he needs to feel like he is doing everything he can.

When the first rays of the sun shine above the horizon and the first agents arrive for their shifts, He has already gone through an immense amount of security tapes from all around the world that had even the slightest match through the face recognition system with yours. None of them turned out to be real, but he never gave up.

“Barnes, were you here all night?” Tony asks in awe when he finds the long-haired avenger with his eyes glued to one of the screens, watching yet another tape.

“Not all night, but… for the majority, yes,” he nods without even sparing Tony a look.

Any other day Tony would tease him for maybe finally doing something useful, or not only using his fist in a case, but not today. Everyone on the team knows how much you mean to him and how hard it is to not know where you are. So he just nods, places his coffee down to the desk and gets down to work without a word.

Soon enough the rest of the team joins them and everyone is working together to find even the slightest lead. Every other minor case is put aside, you are their priority.

The more time passes by without anything found, Bucky feels like a part of him is dying more and more. Hopelessness and fear is taking over his already messed up mine, but he is still holding onto the light and that small little feeling in his gut that you are still out there somewhere. And then they find a lead.

“We’ve got a match!” Nat beams from behind her screen and everyone gathers around her as a series of blurry photos play in front of them, showing a group of men carrying a clearly unconscious person to a minivan before driving away. The quality is definitely not the best, your face is also half covered by your hair, but your uniform gives you away. It really is you.

“Where and when was this taken?” Bucky asks in a hurry.

“Last night, outside of Krakow. We have one last coordinate for the van,” Nat informs the group as she brings up a map, a red dot signaling the last spotting of the same van.

“There’s a closed off military based near,” Steve chimes in, pointing at the map a few miles away from where the pictures were taken.

“Alright, suit up everyone. Guess we are going to Poland,” Tony announces and a moment later everyone is running off to get ready for takeoff.

The ground doesn’t feel that bad anymore. It’s wet and there’s gravel here and there, the coldness is not too comfortable either, but you are getting used to it. Probably because it makes you feel things and that’s important to you now. In times when you often lose contact with your own body and mind, feelings keep you grounded and they remind you of who you are.

Last night you finally found out who caught you and it wasn’t a pleasant surprise. Aziel Nowak is a name you’ve already heard before, but not in the best way. The guy is totally crazy and if that’s not enough, he is kind of a genius as well. These two never sit well with each other and you knew it was just a matter of time before you had to face him, but you didn’t think these would be the circumstances.

Nowak’s father, Aleksander was a well-known scientist in the circles of HYDRA, he was one of the assholes responsible for wiping Bucky’s head, unfortunately, his own creation brought his death upon him. Bucky killed him during a raid, all while Aleksander was trying to trigger him, but Bucky was faster than him and shoot him in the head before he could get the second trigger word out. Aziel swore to seek revenge for his father’s death and made it clear that his big plan is to take out every avenger one by one, but all during completely destroying Bucky in every possible way.

Stuck in a clear tube, one that was built specially for super soldiers, you stood in his lab as he got everything ready for his master plan with you.

“The winter soldier was full of flaws,” he started to explain to you, working behind his computer while you couldn’t do anything to stop the madness. Even if you could break out of the tube, you were terribly outnumbered with the hoard of guards in the room, all of them armed and ready to rip you apart. It would have been a suicidal mission.

“The trigger words take a lot of time to enlist and sometimes, we just don’t have time for that. We need our soldier instantly, in a push of a button, if I might add,” he smirked and you almost gagged. He was a lowlife, disgusting middle-aged man, completely out of touch of reality, wrapped up in his own head with his ridiculous misconceptions and twisted view of the world.

“But fear no more, I have a better solution,” he grinned at you, holding up a tiny chip between his fingers and your jaw flexed. You didn’t know what it was, but you had guesses. “Spent years working on this little thing and now I can finally test it out and you get to be the lucky one to do it. Start the gas,” he ordered and a moment later some kind of gas started to fill the tube up. Your pathetic attempt to escape was cut off shortly when you felt your whole body freeze as you inhaled the gas. You just stood there, completely no control over your own body. The back of the tube opened with a hiss once the gas cleared out from around you and you felt a sharp stabbing at the back of your neck. You couldn’t even gasp, you were as frozen as a statue, unable to defend yourself and you truly felt like it’s the end. You wish it was though.

Nowak implanted the chip into your spine and you could feel the wires cling into your nerves, melting into your body like a parasite. A single tear rolled down your cheek as your wound was closed off.

“This is going to be so much fun,” Nowak smirked when he walked into your sight again. He had a control panel in his hands and as he pushed some buttons electricity bolted through your whole body and you completely lost control over your actions. Your body moved without your consent, arms and legs acting without your brain actually telling them.

You became a prisoner in your own body.

The night was spent fighting with Nowak’s best guards as he tested out his new toy: you. He could control your whole body thanks to the chip and while you were screaming and shouting in your head, there was no escape. He made you into his ragdoll and there was nothing you could do against it.

He switched the chip off when you were thrown back into the cell. You sobbed for hours probably as you tried to get the thing out of yourself, blood was dripping down your back, but you had to accept that it was too deep, clinging onto your spine, you couldn’t get it out with your bare hands.

Now you are lying on the floor and try to remember who you are, because you’ve been feeling like you lost touch with your true self. The only thing that has been helping is remembering your favorite memories.

It makes your heart flutter when you realize that most of them have Bucky in them. Your most favorite? The time you spent in London. Those days are the closest and dearest to your heart and now you just wish you could go back in time for even just an hour. Strolling down the streets like any other tourists without a worry in the world, watching the city lay in front of you as you ride the London Eye or walking along the River Thames. You felt so normal, so happy, sharing your time with the man you probably love the most in the whole wide world.

“I could live here,” you sighed when the Big Ben came into view above the brick buildings.

“It rains too much here,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at you, his arm brushing against yours.

“I like the rain. Love the smell of it, love how refreshing it feels after it,” you chuckled.

“And what would you want to do here?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Maybe I would work at a library. Or a café!”

“You want to be a barista!” He chuckled, smirking down on you. “Is this why you wanted Tony to get a fancy espresso machine?”

“Well, not just because of this, I just really like good coffee,” you smiled up at him. “What, do you not like my coffee?”

“Oh, I do. You make the best in the tower,” he nodded.

You could always talk about anything and everything with him. He understood you so well and you liked to think it worked the other way as well. That you were just as important to him as he was to you.

“Bucky.” His name falls from your lips like a desperate plea, as if you could summon him and he’d be here any moment to rescue you. But nothing changes and you are still on your own.

You’ve been wondering if this is how he felt when they made him to be the winter soldier. If he went through the same struggle or if it was worse. He said he doesn’t remember everything he did, as if sometimes he just completely disappeared in his own head, but other times live vividly in his memories.

You remember everything too. The chip has no control over your mind and thoughts, it works as another brain that takes over control in your body, caging your mind in your own head while it works your body.

A siren rings through the building and you gasp, your head snapping in the direction of the metal door. You hear orders in a foreign language and running footsteps somewhere down the hallway. Pushing yourself up you move to the far end of the room as you hear someone approaching your cell. Before the lock clicks on the door, you feel the familiar electricity run through your body and you breathe out before you lose control over your body again. You stand up, not because you want to, but because this is what they ordered. The door swings open and Nowak walks in.

“Guess your little friends figured out where you are. It’s time to show them my masterpiece.”

The military base is pretty lively for a closed off one. As the team is approaching the complex they inspect the possibilities they have to get inside.

“Alright, we have to be smart about this. Nowak is a psychopath,” Tony announces when the quinjet is nearing the base. “Barron and Natasha, we need a diversion. Banner, you stay here and only come in if it’s needed,” he starts and everyone nods along. “Wanda, the same goes for you as well. Listen to the call word and be ready to interfere. Sam and I are going to clear the main building, try to find Nowak. Barnes, Cap, you are tracking Y/N down. Everything clear?”

“As daylight,” Steve nods as he grabs his shield from the side.

Once the quinjet touches down, everyone goes their own way, going along the plan they discussed. Nat and Clint do well with the diversion, a great amount of guards and soldiers are drawn in their way as Tony and Sam make their way into the main building of the base.

“Where should we look, Buck?” Steve asks his friend as they hide behind one of the quarters. Bucky looks around, inspects the place and nods towards a building that’s clearly powered with a lot more electricity for whatever reason, Thick cables running inside, snaking under the doors, pouring extra power inside. Steve nods and once the way is somewhat cleared out, they head inside.

They take down the few HYDRA agents that try to get in their way as they run further into the building without even breaking a sweat. They easily reach the lab and it almost feels way too easy.

“Something is not right,” Steve says as the two of them walk into the empty lab, curious inspecting all the machines and equipment they have absolutely no idea how to work.

Bucky’s eyes fall on the tube in the far corner of the room and walking closer he gets an eerie feeling and he can already picture you trapped inside, the thought making his stomach churn.

“Anyone found Nowak yet?” Steve asks through the com.

“Negative,” Nat grunts back in the middle of her own fight.

“Haven’t seen the fucker either,” Tony answers and Steve sighs.

Just as Bucky is about to head to the door that leads out of the lab at the other end from where they entered, the sliding door opens and they both get ready to fight whatever is about to come into sight. But neither of them were expecting you to walk out.

“Y/N?!” your name falls from Steve’s lips as he lets his shield down, staring back at you confused. But you don’t answer, just stop a few feet away from them, staring blankly ahead of you and Bucky swears he was on the verge of fainting from his anger, because he knew those eyes all too well, because he used to see them in the mirror.

“Y/N, what did they do?” he whispers desperately, a hand reaching out to you, but it’s quickly cut off when you grab his hand and easily throw him over, his back contacting the floor with a painful thump.

Hell breaks loose fast as you start fighting them off, using the advantage of their shock upon seeing you, working against them while they try to make you remember them.

“Y/N, it’s us! We don’t want to hurt you!” Steve growls when he saves himself from one of your hits, his shield coming between the two of you.

I know! I know it’s you, but I can’t do anything! You scream in your own head, unable to even form the words. You’re a prisoner in this body you thought to be yours, but it betrayed you.

You never fought both of them before at the same time, but now that it’s happening, you’re surprisingly good at it, handling two super soldiers at the same time when one of them has a vibranium arm while the other one keeps throwing a vibranium shield at you, though it’s clear they aren’t giving their best, afraid of hurting you even though you’re in killer mode right now and determined to rip them apart.

“Do you think they did the same to her as they did to you?” Steve asks out of breath when you throw them against a wall and return to fight Bucky.

“It’s something else. Look at the back of her neck!” he growls when you throw a punch in his way that he catches with his metal arm, holding your fist tight as you keep pushing it and this moment of pause allows Steve to take a look at you from the back.

“Oh shit,” he breathes out.

Yes! Take this shit out and I’m free! You scream, but no one hears. Your fist frees from Bucky’s grip and you kick him in the stomach so hard he snaps against the desk behind him and wasting no time you jump right at him, the fight continues.

“If anyone finds Nowak, don’t kill him. We’ve got Y/N and she is being controlled by something,” Steve explains through his earpiece before throwing his shield in your direction right when you’re about to attach your hands to Bucky’s neck. It hits you in the side and you fall to the ground grunting.

“Don’t fucking hurt her!” Bucky growls at him, but Steve gives him a look.

“She is trying to kill us, we have to do something!”

You’re on your feet fast, already charging at Steve and it catches him by surprise, he stumbles back as your knee collides with his stomach, a punch thrown at his pretty face.

“I see Nowak!” Tony’s voice comes through the earpieces, but they don’t have the chance to celebrate, because you’re kicking their ass big time.

When you want to launch yourself at Steve again, Bucky’s arms wrap around your waist from behind and he pulls back, pushing you away, making you stumble, but you’re back on your feet quickly. Your eyes meet and you want to touch him so badly, run into his arms, tell him how happy you are to see him and that he was the only thing that kept you sane, but instead, you throw yourself at him, fist colliding with the side of his head.

I’m so sorry, Buck!

“We’ve got Nowak!” Tony announces and Steve sighs in relief.

“Does he have something like a remote or controller?” he asks while you and Bucky are at each other’s throat. You throw him to a desk and drag him across it, papers and equipment flying everywhere before he ends up on the floor groaning. You have the perfect chance to throw a punch in again, but you turn around and run back towards the door you came through.

“He has a controlling panel, do you think it’s connected to Y/N?” Tony asks.

“Very much likely, but please hurry up, she is trying to run away!” Steve begs as they both start to chase after you in the labyrinth of hallways. You’re footsteps are echoing on the checkered floors as they are trying to catch up with you. You take a left turn and get out of their vision just for a split second. As they get around the corner they immediately freeze when they find you standing there, a gun pointing right at Bucky’s head, a deadly, but still rather blank expression in your eyes.

“Shit,” Steve breathes out.

“Y/N, I know you are in there,” Bucky speaks up.

Yes! I’m here! I’m here Bucky!

“The controller is locked, but we are working on it,” Tony announces through the com, but it doesn’t help their situation right now. If he can’t unlock the controller, you are likely to shoot them both if they don’t do something. As you stare back at your two friends, you are using everything in you to try to get back the control over your own body, but it’s like you’re just silently screaming in an empty, locked room.

“I know you hear me. Please, try to fight it off. I know how hard it is, but if anyone can do it, it’s you,” Bucky continues and if only you were in charge of yourself, you’d already be sobbing at the broken expression he is staring back at you with. Your finger is on the trigger and you can feel your muscles trembling.

“Buck, we need to disarm her,” Steve tells him, but he shakes his head.

“No. We can’t do that without hurting her and I’m not doing that.”

Oh Bucky! That’s the only way now!

“She is gonna shoot, Bucky. We have to do something!”

“She could have already fired. She is fighting it off, I know it.”

“Or maybe it’s just whatever it is inside her messing with her head as Tony is trying to break the controller.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, I know you can do this. I’m not gonna hurt you, you can fight it!” Bucky continues, ignoring Steve’s words, who stands behind him with his jaw flexed.

I can’t do it, you need to knock me out! I’m not strong enough to do it!

You are trying everything you can and you are already holding your finger back, you would have already pulled the trigger if it wasn’t for your resistance somewhere in this cage. But you just know you’re not strong enough to stop yourself forever, they will need to disarm you, there’s no choice.

You stare back at Bucky, his forehead and left cheek bloody from wounds you gave him and he probably has a few bruises under his leather jacket as well, all because of you. Nowak made you hurt the person you love the most and now his life is being threatened. You know he won’t fight you, he will not try to disarm you, he would rather take the bullet than cause pain to you, more than what he already did during your fight.

The gun trembles in your hand as you’re desperately trying to gain your control back, sweat beading on your forehead, your chest heaving.

“Stark, we are running out of time!” Steve warns him through the com.

“Just one more second!” he answers, but you’re afraid you don’t have that much time.

“Y/N, please!” Bucky begs, a single tear rolling down his cheek and you can feel your own heart breaking at the sight of him. You can’t believe it’s because of you, you are causing him pain when you swore to work to see him his happiest in his life.

Your jaw flexes and you are on the verge of breaking, the tiniest light flashing in front of you as you keep pushing, trying to take back control, but then you feel like losing again. It all happens so fast, you can barely process.

You know you’re about to pull the trigger, you can’t stop yourself, but just as you are about to do it, Tony’s voice rings through the com.

“We got it!”

In a blink of the eye, the invisible grip that’s been keeping you tight vanishes, the cage opens up and suddenly you feel yourself come alive again as the most painful, deafening and desperate scream rips from your throat, the gun falling from your grip before you collapse on the ground in complete shock of everything that went down.

“Get it out! Get it out! I can’t do this!” you scream, your nails scratching the back of your neck once again, trying to reach the chip, but you’re just breaking your own skin once again, blood dripping down your back.

“Hey, it’s alright, sweetheart. We got you. You’re gonna be fine!” Bucky falls to his knees, cradling you into his arms as you sob into his hard chest, hands gripping the fabric of his jacket tight as your salty tears soak your cheeks, your whole body shaking.

“I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you repeat, shaking your head as if you were trying to get rid of the memories, but they are still there, you still know what it’s like to be a prisoner in your own head but at least now you are with Bucky and that brings you the peace of mind you’ve been seeking all along.

“You don’t have to be sorry, it’s alright. You’ll be alright, sweetheart, you’re safe with me now,” he murmurs into your hair, his arms holding you so tight it’s starting to get hard to even breathe, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You cling onto him as if your life depends on it and in a way, it really does. Bucky gathers you into his arms as you keep mumbling your apologies and begs to make it stop even though you are not being controlled any longer. He carries you to the quinjet as he keeps murmuring reassuring words into your ear, telling you that everything is going to be alright now. You are in good hands.

You don’t let go of him on the way back and he doesn’t seem to want to do it either. Curled up on his lap, you let yourself fall into a shallow slumber as his fingers are dancing up and down your back, keeping you close to his chest, the feeling of finally being home taking over your senses.

Arriving back to New York you are helped off the jet by Bucky or course as he walks you to the med bay where Dr. Cho is already waiting for your arrival.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll fix you up,” she smiles at you as you are expected to let go of Bucky, but your head snaps back in his direction in panic, hands grabbing onto his anxiously.

“It’s alright, I’ll be here waiting for you. My stupid face will be the first thing you see when you wake up,” he jokes, his tired eyes fixated on you as you hesitate to let go of him, but eventually do it.

Keeping his promise Bucky stay outside as long as you are under Helen’s hands, not able to even drag him away to change clothes. The only thing he can make himself is dragging his ass to the nearest restroom to at least wash the dried blood off his face, but he quickly returns to his previous spot.

It turns out removing the chip is a bit more complicated than anyone thought. The micro wires are so deep in your nerves, Dr. Cho has to be careful if he doesn’t want to paralyze you with just one wrong move. Five entire hours pass by before the chip is finally out of you, before they place you in one of the rooms until you wake up from the anesthesia. Bucky is right by your side, holding your hand soothingly as he waits for you to open your eyes again. When he sees your eyelashes fluttering, he holds his breath as your eyes open and you adjust to the light and the view around you.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” he softly asks, gently brushing a strand of hair out of your forehead.

“Like… I just fought against two super soldiers,” you breathe out in a joking manner that makes him chuckle. You’re back and he missed you more than he could ever express.

As you let out a long and heave breath, you feel everything coming back to you and you can’t stop your sobs and the tears falling from your eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky,” you gasp and he is quick to leap forward, one hand holding yours while the other one cups your cheek as he makes you turn your head towards him.

“No, no, no. You have nothing to be sorry about, Y/N. You did everything you could, you fought it so well!”

“But I hurt you! I didn’t want to hurt you, I was screaming inside my head, but I just couldn’t stop!” you sob shaking your head.

“I know, it wasn’t your fault! Please don’t think for a moment anyone blames you!” he begs, his bright blue eyes glued to your pained face as you fight your tears back. A hand moves to the back of your neck, feeling the wound where the chip used to be.

“Is it gone?” you ask in a whisper.

“It is. Helen took good care of you. You’re free now,” he smiles and you feel a wave of relief washing over you right away. Your body is yours again, finally.

“I didn’t think I would be myself again,” you admit, your voice slightly shaking. Bucky’s heart breaks at your words, but remains silent as you carry on. “I kept thinking of memories that feel the closest to me and it was the only thing that kept me sane. And I realized that the dearest ones are all with you, Bucky.”

His lips part at your revelation as his heart is beating fast against his ribcage. He has been waiting for this moment to come for what feels like eternity and now it might become his reality.

“When I thought I would never be the same again, I just thought about… you. That I don’t get to see you again, when I always wanted to spend all my days with you, Buck.”

“I want to spend all my days with you too, sweetheart,” he breathes out, leaning closer until his face is only inches away from yours. “I hated the thought of you being gone without ever telling you how I feel.”

“How do you feel, Bucky?” you ask in a trembling voice.

“You are my everything, Y/N. You are my best friend and everything beyond and I was such a fool for not telling you before this, but the thought of losing you made me realize that I have to stop being a coward,” he chuckles with tears bubbling in his eyes. You reach out and cup his face in your palms, your thumb running along the dark circles under his eyes and you wonder if he even slept a moment since you’ve been gone.

“We were both idiots, don’t beat yourself,” you chuckle softly, making his mouth turns into a grin before he leans closer and his lips finally press against yours, capturing them in a sweet, so-good-to-have-you-back kiss you’ve been dreaming about for probably way too long but at least since London. It’s soft and gentle, filled with the promise of many more to come. Thought you’re trying to stretch it as long as possible, a cough is heard from the door and you both pull back, turning your attention at the rest of the team standing there, all of them happy to see you again, or maybe to see the two of you finally taking the step they’ve been waiting for to happen.

“I guess you are feeling better now, yeah?” Nat smirks as she walks further inside, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Much better,” you admit with a shy chuckle. “Thank you for the rescuing, guys.”

“It’s the least we could do,” Sam smirks at you.

“And Barnes would have gone nuts if we didn’t find you so that was also quite motivating,” Tony jokes nodding towards the man by your side, who is still holding your hand as if you could disappear any moment.

“Steve, I’m sorry for trying to hurt you,” you breathe out at the sight of the tall blonde man, but he just shrugs with a warm smile.

“It’s alright. At least now we know that you could easily kick our ass at the same time,” he jokes nodding towards Bucky, though you all know they were holding back, not wanting to hurt you. You still remember the look in Bucky’s eyes when you held him at gunpoint. He could have easily disarmed you but it would have cost you at least a broken arm, yet he refused to lay a hand on you and believed that you could control yourself again.

When the team is gone and it’s just the two of you again in the room, Bucky sits at the edge of your bed, his fingers playing with your hand over the white sheets as you let yourself fall into the sense of safety again.

“You should have disarmed me, Bucky,” you tell him, breaking the silence.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I could have killed you,” you retort.

“I know,” he nods, his lips pressing into a thin line. “But I just couldn’t cause you any more pain.”

“The fact that I was hurting you was already a pain, Bucky. You should have just knock me out.”

“Would you ever do the same to me?” he questions and though you open your lips to answer, you realize that he is right. You would have never hurt him on purpose, not even if he was back at being the winter soldier. You could have never hurt your sweet Bucky, the man that means more than anything ever in your torturous life.

“See? How do you expect me to do it then?” he smiles softly. “But it doesn’t matter, you are free now. It’s all in the past.”

“It still broke my heart, seeing you like that.”

“I can only say the same,” he breathes out, his eyes softening on you. “I wanted to help you so bad, but I couldn’t…”

“You helped me a lot,” you smile at him, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of his forehead. He smiles back at you and through his ocean eyes are still looking tired and a little bloodshot, but there’s a tiny little glimmer in them, something you’ve seen before, it was the most apparent when Shuri was successful at ridding him from the winter soldier and you also saw it in London. You’ve been seeking this little shine for a long time and you’re happy to have it back.

“We should go on a vacation,” he suggests, his smile growing wider with each passing second.

“Oh, I didn’t know avengers had vacation days,” you tease him.

“They do, as much as they want,” he nods grinning. “Where would you want to go? Do you want to go back to London?” he questions as he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your bruised knuckles.

“Mm, we should go somewhere new,” you purse your lips. “I’ve always wanted to see Amsterdam.”

“Then Amsterdam it is,” he chuckles before leaning closer he kisses your lips gently with a promise of a bright future together.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#kas9kwc #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes

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thetargaryenbride · 4 years ago

Text

A break [Levi x Fem!Reader]

Requested by: @emmaandemmal Hi, I love your works! Can I request one where Levi and his fem s/o have been a couple since before they were captured by the scouts in the underground? After the deaths of Isabel and Farlan, the reader tries to convince Levi to leave the scouts with her to go and live together in a safer place, but he refuses saying that he believes in Erwin's vision of the scouts and the two begin to fight badly. The reader eventually stays in the scouts because she doesn't want to leave without him, but the relationship between Levi and the reader is getting colder and more detached. The reader begins to think that Levi is no longer interested in her after noticing his growing friendship with Petra and she decides to leave the scouts thinking it's the best decision for her and for Levi. When Levi finds out, he tries to find her, but without success. Only a few years later, he catches a glimpse of her in the crowd after the scouts have returned from an expedition and he follows her. Once they arrive at the reader's house, she and Levi make up and the reader claims that she has been selfish in the past and that she would like to return to the scouts to fight against the titans and to claim the deaths of Isabel and Farlan. Eventually the reader and Levi resume their relationship and Levi promises her that nothing would separate them again. I'm really sorry that it's so long, if you consider this idea feel free to modify it as you wish. Sorry for my English too... it’s not very good. Thank you so much, you're one of the best Levi writers I know! ❤️

I’m sorry for the delay, dear. I was struggling with a mini writer’s block and was focusing more on art but I’m slowly getting back on track! Thank you so much for the request and thank you for your kind words. This really means a lot to me! As far as modifying goes, the only thing I modified is the timeskip. Instead of a few years, I made it one year. I hope you don’t mind ^^

Words: 4.5K

Warnings: Very Brief mention of suicide, prostitution and self-harm

Hope you like it ❤️ Feedback is deeply appreciated! ^^

Also, if Levi seems OOC, please feel free to correct me~ I accept constructive criticism ^^

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

You were arguing.

You never argued.

But the situation that had befallen you made you feel all sort of ways and neither of you knew how to express those emotions, that stress, which is why it had slowly turned into a fight.

“You shouldn’t have agreed! We have no idea how the world above works! We’re going to fuck up, Levi,” you raised your voice, hands clenching into fists by your sides, levels of anger rising at Levi’s indifference at the situation. You knew that it was only a façade and that deep down Levi wasn’t indifferent. You knew he was probably worried just as much as you were. But right now you were so scared and you wanted him to just show some more emotion, fight back, shower you with words of reassurance, hug you…anything…not just stand with crossed arms, staring at you.

“So what, I should’ve let the bushy eyebrowed bastard send us in prison?” he raised an eyebrow as if challenging you to give him a good reason for your big distaste of joining the Survey Corpse. He couldn’t understand why you had exploded like that when he had agreed. It was the perfect opportunity for the fulfillment of your mission…Not that you had been very accepting of the mission either. Your paranoia and distrust always clawed at you, many a time ripping any semblance of reason and logic. But he couldn’t’ exactly blame you. He was similar in a way. He supposed that this is what living in the Underground did to you.

Living?

No. More like struggling, digging in the mud, to survive.

And the two of you had been doing this since you were kids.

“I’d rather rot in a prison cell than a titan’s stomach. And since when do you trust nobles anyways? It’s mostly because of them that we all fester here in this dump,” you spat out and he pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh.

“If you are so against this mission, why are you even joining?” he shot back and you choked on whatever words you had the intention of spilling.

You took a deep breath as you slumped next to him on the couch, body completely slacking in defeat as your anger simmered down a bit.

“Do you even have to ask me that?” you muttered as you stared at the ceiling, the hands in your lap fiddling with your fingers. “It’s because I would never turn my back on my family…on you,” you murmured as you straightened up and turned to face him. “Even if it’s the stupidest decision which would probably result in something shitty, I’ll still stick with you. You are all I have…I love you,” you timidly uttered the last words, casting your eyes downwards as a slight blush spread over your cheeks. The man sighed before his hands went to grab yours, successfully stopping your fiddling and wringing, squeezing them reassuringly.

“Look at me,” he ushered you gently yet firmly and you lifted your head, locking eyes with his. “We’ll be fine.”

You let out another sigh before you leaned, letting his arms encircle your form as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

“I pray that you’re right,” you whispered and just when you thought you could have a moment of peace, Farlan entered the room with a constipated expression. You couldn’t blame him. You were all beaten and battered by the soldiers and your ego was bruised, even though you let them capture you. And now they were all standing in your home or surrounding it while you packed the little of your belongings, breathing down your neck.

It was suffocating.

“We’ve packed everything. It’s time to go.”

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

You wanted to blame him.

You wanted to tell him – “I told you so.”

But that wouldn’t bring back Farlan and Isabel.

It wouldn’t stitch back their ripped bodies.

They were gone and the only thing you could blame was this world.

Because it was so cruel.

And the only beauty you found in it was your love for Levi and his love for you.

He had no fault. Nobody knew that things would turn out like this. That fate would decide to cackle in your faces.

The two of you stuck together like glue more than ever after that day. You even went as far as to disregard rules as you would sneak into the men’s barracks just to sleep with him because he was the only one who managed to chase away the nightmares and wipe your tears. And you knew, even without him saying it directly, that you were the only one who could comfort him when he was feeling the burden of the world crushing his shoulders. And Farlan and Isabel’s deaths really did feel like the whole world just crumbled on top of you two. The only difference was that you were more prone to emotions and didn’t find such a difficulty at expressing them unlike Levi who preferred to bottle everything inside, feign indifference and coldness and find toxic coping mechanisms like not sleeping which as time passed shaped into the ugly form of his insomnia, despite all the scolding you’ve done.

Time passed. The first weeks after Isabel and Farlan’s deaths, you had been inseparable. But that slowly began to change after the date of the next expedition was announced. Your paranoia spiked up one night after you had tried suppressing it for days and that resulted in a breakdown.

You wanted out.

You wanted to leave the Scouts.

You had even gone as far as to talk to Erwin and the Commander, literally begging them to help you with the citizenship matters and let you and Levi leave. But of course, they refused and Erwin even went to speak to Levi about this, not knowing that the man had no idea about your plans and wishes.

Levi was angry that you did something like that behind his back. He understood your fear. He understood very well because he was afraid too. He was afraid that he was going to lose you too – the only person he had left. But he didn’t appreciate that you hadn’t been straightforward with him regarding such a serious matter, only revealing everything you have done and felt at the heat of the moment.

“I’ve been dreaming about this since I was a little girl, hiding in the wardrobe, listening how man after man would use my mother every night. Dreaming about a life, safely tucked in the corner of the world, surrounded by beautiful nature, peace and quiet, alongside my beloved person... Is it so bad that I want this for us?” you had asked with trembling voice and Levi’s expression had softened, a sign that he had forgiven you for everything and that he didn’t want to argue anymore.

“As much as I want that too, we can’t have it when the titans are roaming everywhere, threatening to wipe out Humanity. If we don’t destroy them now, we are only delaying our doom,” he muttered as his hand went to softly caress your cheek, making you sigh as you leaned into his touch. “But that man, Erwin Smith, sees something that I don’t. He has a plan to save humanity and… he sees victory… That’s why I want to stay in the Survey Corps and fight,” he admitted and at that moment, you found yourself captured by that determination burning in his eyes.

His desire to fight for a better future.

Not only for the sake of you two, but for the sake of thousands of people.

And while you weren’t completely sure yet that you were ready to sacrifice your happiness and life for a bunch of people you didn’t know or care about, you knew that you were ready to sacrifice anything and everything for him.

And that’s why you stayed.

And he knew that. He knew you better than you knew yourself. But he chose not to call you out for this. Because he understood how you felt. He didn’t belittle you. He didn’t call you selfish or insensitive or a bad person just because you didn’t want to care about anyone else but him. What does selfish, insensitive or bad even mean? They are just vague concepts that are different from every person’s point of view.

And as more time passed, after every expedition, he could see why you wanted to leave. He could see why you didn’t want to fight. Every expedition, every death, left an impact on you, stealing bit by bit from your sunny personality and shaping you into a depressed, miserable person.

Even if you claimed that you didn’t care about strangers dying, deep, deep down, he knew you did. It was just the person you were, trying to convince yourself that you didn’t care about anyone but him in order to protect yourself. But on a deeper level you still cared and you were still affected and he knew that you hated feeling like this – it brought only chaos, confusion and misery to your mind and soul as you desperately tried to live up to your own expectations and build walls around yourself only for every brick to be broken as a comrade would send you a smile or compliment you or help you out with something. And after every expedition, he would gain a better understanding as to why you wanted to be selfish and leave. Why you wanted – why you tried forcing yourself – to stop caring about anything and everyone and run away with him – the one and only person who – you tried to convince yourself – mattered.

And he didn’t know why he couldn’t follow you. On many occasions, he felt the same. But somehow, for some reason, he would always find a way back to Erwin – back to the goal they shared for humanity. He didn’t know where that sudden loyalty for the blonde had come from – the same blonde who more or less had been the reason as to why Farlan and Isabel had died. But it was exactly this loyal bond that had formed between them that prevented Levi from following you and he hated himself for it because he could see how this life of soldiers was destroying you from the inside out and there were moments when he would lay at night and dark thoughts would cross his mind – of your body hanging from somewhere or him finding you drowned or with sliced wrists or a bullet stuck in the head.

It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers to turn to self-harm as a coping mechanism and some even committed suicide.

The fight against the titans wasn’t something to be underestimated and it left an irreparable damage on everyone.

And he could see you were heading that way and he hated himself for not being able to put a stop to this and just grab your hand and run away from everything – as you wanted.

That’s why he decided to distance himself from you. He thought that maybe if he started ignoring you, if he was being cold and distant, it would put a rift in your relationship. It would make you think that he didn’t love you anymore. That you were a painful reminder of the past. And once your bond was severed, nothing would be holding you back. Nothing would stop you from leaving. Because he was the only thing, the only reason, as to why you were still sticking around. And then maybe you would finally be able to find the peace and quiet you had been seeking for ages.

His conversations with you became shorter. His answers – curt. His affection and acts of service decreased. It had brought you to tears, thinking that you had done something wrong and it tore him apart when he caught you crying one night. But it was for your own good so he had to grit his teeth and bear with it never mind how much it hurt that he was causing you this suffering.

Him being promoted to a Captain helped a lot. Now he didn’t need to find reasons or excuses to not spend time with you because he was genuinely so busy all the time. The stress was making him snappy too so he tried avoiding conversations altogether, not wanting to actually say something hurtful because then he would feel even more pain and regret and that would have his resolve crumble and he would go back to being loving and affectionate which was far, far from the goal he had.

Then Oluo and Petra had entered the picture – two members fresh into the Survey Corps, graduated from the same trainee squad with incredible talent and promising skills. He had taken them into his squad but he didn’t know that this would be the final straw to put such a rift in your relationship.

It was true that Petra was a bit clingy. Her infatuation, devotion and loyalty to him were obvious. But he thought it was a childish, fleeting crush which is why he didn’t find it necessary to confront her about it. He thought it would disappear over time, especially with how both she and Oluo seemed like an old married couple more and more with each passing day. He didn’t want to push away the members of his own squad. He wanted to embrace them. To embrace their friendship. On a subconscious level, he was trying to fill the gaps left behind from the people he lost. The gaps oozing loneliness and pain. The gaps you couldn’t fill because he wasn’t allowing you to in his haste to push you away.

And when one day he went to have lunch with Erwin, as the two needed to discuss important matters in his office, he wasn’t expecting the blonde to deliver such mortifying news to him.

“Look, Levi…I’m sorry to say this but… Y/N left the Survey Corps,” told him the Commander with a sombre tone and Levi felt his entire world shift.

Suddenly, regret flooded him, chilling him to the very last atom.

Erwin saw each and every emotion flashing in his eyes. And even if he wanted to remind his friend of the words he had told him years ago, he couldn’t.

Because there were things in this life that were impossible not to regret.

Like losing a loved one because of your or their own demons.

It was one thing to lose a loved one to death. And completely another to lose them because of your decision.

Levi didn’t utter a word, pressing his lips in a thin line as he swiftly stood up and turned on his heel, leaving the office with ebony bangs covering his eyes, shielding him from his friend’s look of pity and compassion.

He needed to think.

He needed time.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

You don’t realize how much someone or something means to you until you lose them.

No, that’s not exactly it.

Levi cherished you a lot. Levi loved you a lot. You meant the world to him. That’s why he wanted you to leave. He wanted you to find peace. He wanted you to live a good life away from that misery and bloodshed.

Even if it killed him on the inside.

Because if you truly love someone, you would let them go if it was for the sake of their happiness.

But now that he’s finally gone and done it. Now that he not only pushed you away as a lover but pushed you away from his life altogether, he felt lost.

He felt lost and miserable.

As if life was drained from any sound and colour, leaving him to float in some abyss, soaking in his own negative feelings.

The sorrow, the pain, the dread, the loneliness.

If he had to list them all, he would waste all of Erwin’s expensive parchment.

And as he laid there in his bed, after thinking and reflecting on everything for hours on end, staring at the ceiling with an empty bottle of alcohol shattered into pieces against the opposite wall – alcohol that barely got him tipsy – he realized that maybe he wanted to be selfish too. That, combined with the regrets of pushing you away, burned at his soul, melting any doubts he had, like a blacksmith melting steel, and solidified his resolve to find you and bring you back, like a new sword being forged.

So next day after he had gotten all his emotions, thoughts and feelings in check and after he had taken a decision, he approached Erwin and asked for your location.

He was unpleased when his friend told him that he had no idea where you went off to. Part of Levi wanted to be angry and yell at him. Accuse him of lying. But he was so tired after the emotional and mental battle he had wielded that he just gave up on his anger and frustration and decided that instead of letting such negative emotions rule over him, he would brush them aside instead and pave way for that same scorching determination he had for the Survey Corpse’s cause, now combining it with the determination of finding you.

And he didn’t stop.

Once he started, he didn’t stop.

He would visit every town, every village, whenever he was free from his duty.

He never stopped looking for you.

It took him roughly a year to scout most of Wall Rose’s lands.

But it was during one fateful evening, after the Scouts were returning from an expedition, when he spotted you.

The sun had just set, allowing the sky to be painted in purples and blues with shimmering stars being sprinkled onto the canvas. The street lanterns shone brightly and the comforting light spewing from them had illuminated a very familiar form.

A form that Levi knew like the lines of his own palm.

He hadn’t wasted time to jump from his black mare and chase after you. He didn’t want to approach and confront you right away so he just settled for walking at a slow pace behind you, trying his best to not be noticed or come off as some creep.

He seriously couldn’t believe his luck.

Knowing your thought pattern, he believed that you had run away somewhere far. Back in the days when you lived in the Underground, whenever you had arguments – which was very rare – you would always run away from home and hide somewhere far, knowing that it would be hard for him to find you and nearly giving him heart attacks because of it. But this time you had decided to hide right under his nose – near Trost district which was not far away from the SC HQ.

He counted himself outsmarted and he didn’t know whether to be annoyed by this or proud of you.

You looked radiant even in the dusk. The cream dress you were wearing made you look like a vision, glowing in the dark. It reached a bit past your knees, revealing some of your calves while the upper part left your collarbones in the open. He longed to run his fingers over your skin. Through your hair. To touch you. To feel you. To hold you. To tell you what an idiot he was. How he wanted you back in his life because he couldn’t exist without you by his side.

To apologize.

“Are you going to keep following me or are you going to help me carry the basket?” your voice interrupted his train of thought and he cursed lightly under his breath. You chuckled and stopped in your tracks, turning around ever so slightly, eyes finally landing on the person you were so anxious to see again but didn’t have the courage to approach.

He wordlessly took the basket from your hands and began walking next to you.

All the way to your house you stayed silent.

He didn’t even comment when you exited the District and neared the woods, only lifting an eyebrow.

Your shoes and his boots clinked against the cobblestone pathway, the little door of the wooded fence creaking under your touch as you pushed it. His eyes scanned the yard, taking notice of the freely roaming chicken, a few lambs, one cow and one horse – your horse from the Survey Corps. He could vaguely make out a garden peeking from behind the house so he supposed you also had a backyard where you were growing your food. He almost flinched when a huge dog – almost as big as you and him – came running in your direction, demanding head pats which you gladly gave.

Levi was impatient. He wanted to enter the damn house already and talk. But at the same time, a part of him was happy about the delay. He almost gulped nervously at the thought of the following confrontation.

Almost.

At last, you unlocked the front door and the two took off your shoes, putting on slippers, and moved into the house. You took the basket from his hands and placed it on the kitchen counter before you grabbed a rag to wipe the table and beckoned the man to sit down. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, taking a step towards the chair before halting, looking at you rigidly, and resuming his journey until he was finally sat. You clenched and unclenched the rag before you threw it away and sat across him, fingers now playing with the soft fabric of your dress. You looked at the ground and he looked at your feet, noticing your toes curling and uncurling from nerves even through the slippers.

“I-“

“Levi-“

You both said at the same time and you chuckled lightly at the cliché situation.

“You first,” uttered the man and you gulped, sending him a wobbly smile.

“I want to apologize-“ you took a short pause and an intake of air when you saw his eyes widening as his features twisted in a dumbstruck expression as if he was unable to process why you were apologizing. “-for leaving so suddenly without uttering a word. It was…childish,” you quieted down and he closed his eyes, sighing deeply. “You were walking further and further away from me, getting extra busy with being a Captain and…and then Petra came into the picture,” you muttered but were fast to wave your hands in defence, “Not that I ever doubted your loyalty! My trust in you would never waver but…I just thought that maybe we both needed a break. We needed to breathe and clear our heads and start thinking properly. That’s why I decided to leave and give us some space. I never truly intended on leaving the Survey Corps or abandoning you…You mean so much to me…but I’m still sorry that I-“

“Stop,” he rose to his feet and you quickly followed, anticipation and fear at his next possible words, building up inside of you, making you feel like burning. “You don’t have to apologize. You did nothing wrong.”

That calmed you down a bit, the fear leaving your mind, but instead, worry settled as you looked at the way he lowered his head and bit his lip.

“I acted wrongly…I was foolish by thinking that pushing you away would bring you the freedom and happiness you sought,” he muttered and your face softened. “I just,” he sighed as his trembling hand went through his hair in an attempt to ground himself. “I just saw how impacted you would get after every expedition…how you started losing that glow of yours, your bubbly and sunny persona…I saw how hard you were trying to force yourself to stop caring, to be selfish and leave, but you still couldn’t because…because you’re not like that… damnit,” he grit out as he tugged on a few strands before letting his hand fall and rest against his hip limply.

He kicked himself inwardly. He was never good at expressing himself. The moment he had seen you in the crowd, the moment he had set a goal to talk to you and sort everything out, he had been reciting in his head and thinking what exactly he was going to tell you and how he was going to explain himself and the reasoning behind his actions.

“I just-“

“-wanted me to be happy…So you thought that by being a dick and pushing me away, you would make me leave so I can find my peace and quiet somewhere far, far away,” you finished for him, deciding to help him out which caused him to halt in his speech and just stare at you, waiting for your next words, the terror of you rejecting him or telling him that you didn’t feel the same anymore felt like a nettle rope around his neck, getting tighter and tighter with each second, suffocating and scathing him. “Listen, while you might have been partially right, you were also wrong. Because even if I do find happiness away from all the bloodshed, it just wouldn’t be the same without you, silly,” you shook your head as you sent him a sad smile. “I’d rather endure all the pain and suffering in the world than be separated from you,” you finally took the courage to close the space between you as you laid your head on his chest, arms slowly sliding around his torso. He didn’t hesitate to return the hug, sharply bringing you closer, if that was possible, and squeezing you so hard you didn’t know whether to groan from pain or chuckle at seeing him express himself so openly and in such a sweet, boyish manner. It kind of brought back memories from the days you lived in the Underground and how he would hug you exactly like that when you would do something stupid that would put you at risk, albeit a bit more awkwardly since back when you were teenagers you both had no idea how to express your love for each other.

“Deep down I knew you were onto something. Because why would you start acting like that so suddenly? It just wasn’t in your style. But at the same time I felt…” he tightened his embrace even more and buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent and letting it comfort his tortured mind. He had missed you so unbearably much.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry,” he whispered and you sighed as you ran your hands over his back in a soothing manner.

“I forgive you, Levi…I understand that you did it for my own good. But believe me when I say that I can’t find true freedom or happiness without you by my side,” you placed a kiss on his shoulder before pulling away to look him in the eyes. “Don’t ever leave. Don’t ever try to make me leave. Let’s just stick together through thick and thin as we’ve done since we were kids, ok?” you asked and he nodded, leaning hesitantly. You met his lips halfway and you kissed gently which slowly turned into a passionate, hungry, heated and desperate make out as you tried to feel one another after a whole year of being apart. When you finally broke it off, needing air, you rested your forehead against his and let yourself soak in his presence. He did the same. You just stayed like that, foreheads touching, arms around one another as you swayed ever so slightly.

“Want to help me pack?”

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #reader #reader imagine #aot x reader #snk x reader

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gwynrielsupremacist · 4 years ago

Text

A COURT OF LIGHT AND SHADOWS

Chapter 1: Voices

Read at AO3.

Gwyn's afternoon couldn't get any worse.

First of all, the morning's training had been horrendous.

Three weeks after the Blood Rite, Cassian and Azriel had thought it was time to start practicing again, since according to them, they had made a lot of mistakes that could very well have cost them their lives.

She was still alive, just like Nesta and Emerie, so at least one thing they had done well, survive.

After 3 weeks of not doing any sports, it was noticeable when you came back with all the energy, especially on a day where the sun was literally burning.

She noticed as she did push-ups that morning how her arms were trembling dangerously, the sweat running down the curve of her breasts, soaking the shirt she had worn.

Gwyn had promised herself that she would go out into the outside world.

That year she had made a lot of progress, she supposed she should be ready to enter society again, but no.

After the events in the Blood Rite, what she wanted was to lock herself in the darkest corner of the library, with a good book, and stay there to live.

Obviously, she couldn't do that. But she would have liked it.

With all the sore muscles, having failed almost all the obstacles the two Illyrians put them, showing a regrettable endurance in each and every one of the exercises, she had to go down to the library to have a pleasant chat with Merrill, who did not understand why her performance hadn't been 100% in recent weeks.

"I don't know, Merrill. Maybe because they pulled me out of bed against my will, left me in the middle of a forest full of Illyrians, while I had to fight to stay safe, as well as having to kill people? Maybe because I had never left the library after Sangravah, and I suddenly found myself in the same situation? " She reasoned, trying to control her pulse, having remembered the events in the Blood Rite.

She detested Merrill.

More than anyone else, she hated her. She often thought that life would be so much easier if people like Merrill just didn't exist.

After leaving her a ton of work to do, the female disappeared, leaving Gwyn with about seven books resting in her arms, already numb from the morning exercises.

She ran to the nearest table, relieved when she put the books down, with a thud.

She rubbed her dazed hands, wincing at the pile of books that awaited her to spend hours and hours together.

She had to research one of Merrill's new obsessions, the ancient and forgotten Prythian gods.

"I didn't even know they existed", she opined, opening a random book to a random page, flipping through the contents.

She got dizzy from so much information she did not understand, closing the pages with force, grabbing a cart that was nearby, leaving the volumes in it and going to her room, to calmly read those pages and pages of useless information, and then do a chapter-by-chapter summary for Merrill.

"Great, it's a good way to spend your free time if you love reading junk." She groaned as she carefully lowered the cart down the stairs.

"It is not junk. It is information that may be useful at some point", answered her subconscious.

At least she thought it was her subconscious.

She didn't remember when she had started to hear that voice, just one day it had appeared, and now it was considered the voice of reason.

Everything that voice said, it was true.

"I know, but I don't know how knowing which are the main and forgotten gods of Prythian is going to solve my problems." She attacked, greeting one priestess that came close to her, passing by her side.

The voice fell silent, apparently it had nothing more to add.

At least Gwyn could answer the voice in her mind. It would have been a strange thing to see a person argue with herself.

Upon reaching the room, which was a simple square with a bed, a wooden desk with a wooden chair that had more splinters than wood itself, and a modest closet, also made of wood.

Yeah, in summer the termites would destroy all the furniture if she wasn't careful.

Closing the door with the latch, one of the little luxuries she had on it, she put the books down with a thump, brushing her hands on the skirts of the gown, which was already heavily encrusted with dust.

She thought of taking off that long dress, which after so many washes the initial blue had ended up in an almost invisible gray, but she did not feel like going to the common baths of the priestesses, because every time she went there, they peppered her with questions about the Blood Rite.

And the last thing she wanted to do was talk about it.

So she collapsed on the bed, pulling back the covers and hugging the pillow with one arm, as she got into a fetal position.

"You have to go out, you can't hide in the bedroom all afternoon." It protested, to which she responded very kindly with a growl as she turned, trying to make it understand that she was going to do whatever she wanted.

"Alright then. If you get caught between the sheets and can't get out, don't come running to ask me for help." it threatened.

Gwyn didn't know how she was going to ask for help to a voice. It was disembodied, how the hell was she going to beg for help if she didn't even know what that murmur was?

She rolled over on the bed, rubbing her eyes and exhaling, disappointed.

She hated not being able to get out of that damn room.

She hated her insecurity and her irrational fear.

"It is not irrational, Gwyn." It assured her.

"Leave me alone." She begged, getting it to shut up.

She lay on her stomach, breathing deeply.

She looked at the time on the only clock in the room, located above the closet.

19.36.

It appears that she had a lot of time to do absolutely nothing.

Maybe she was going to pick up a book that Nesta and Emerie were reading.

Honestly, she was dying to sink her teeth into one that had caught her attention. According to her description, a maiden sent by the gods fell in love with her bodyguard...

Determined, she bolted upright, unlocking the latch, happily heading for the book.

There would be time to examine the books Merrill had passed her.

Anyway, she had a lot of time, reading something that interested her was not going to do anything bad to everyone.

With a broad grin, she made it to the fiction book section. She opened one of the books, tucking her nose between the pages, an exhale escaping from her lips when she smelled the wonderful book scent.

Her gaze sparking, she searched for the novel she was looking for.

"Didn't you forget something?" It asked.

She stopped short in the middle of the shelves, alarming a passing priestess.

Bowing her head in apology, she went back to searching, her eyes narrowing as she searched the thousands of spins with her eyes, finding none that bore the name of the book she was looking for.

"I don't have any errands to deliver to Merrill." She snapped, frowning when she finally found it.

It was at the top of the shelf.

She made a long face, standing on her tiptoes, stretching her arm as far as she could as she stuck her tongue out, focused.

"I don't mean Merrill, Gwyneth."

"Mysterious voice, what are you talking about?" The priestess demanded in a tired voice. She did not arrive. Why did they make the shelves so high? It was not possible that someone could reach them.

Although, don't get it wrong, Gwyn adored the voice. It was equal to the voice that we all have within us guiding us.

The problem was that the voice that she had was a little… annoying.

She looked at the shelves next to the floor, no books in sight.

Maybe if she got on them…?

She put one foot on it, skipping little hops as she judged whether the bookcase was going to fall or not.

Realizing that it was unlikely, she lifted her other foot, raising her heels as much as she could while she stretched out her arm, feeling her muscles go numb.

A little more ... just a little more ...

"You remember that your friend Nesta has a mate, right? And that you promised them that you would go to her ceremony?" As soon as she finished the sentence, Gwyn stopped.

Shit.

Seriously, had she forgotten that?

"There is still time… There are five days until the ceremony." The voice tried to calm her down, but nothing was going to do it now.

She jumped down from the shelf, as she began to walk from one place to another, in circles.

She had to go.

She couldn't do that to Nesta.

"I don't even have a dress. What am I going to wear?" Alarmed, she slightly stretched the strands of her coppery hair, thinking of a way to solve all the problems that had suddenly befallen her.

I have to leave the library to go to the mating ceremony.

The female began to hyperventilate, forgetting the book that she had held less than 3 centimeters from her hands.

That was far more important.

"I can't tell Nesta that I forgot about her mating ceremony. I can't do that to her." Gwyn protested, running her hands over her face, rubbing her temples angrily, forcing herself to search for solutions and solutions and solutions.

But neither of them was going to work.

She had to get out of there, no priestess was going to leave her a suitable dress for the mating ceremony.

But she couldn't go alone. She did not dare to go down to the city alone.

Emerie couldn't help her. It had started the illyrian high-selling season and the illyrian needed the money. She only went to training, then she quickly returned to her store, not staying a minute longer than necessary.

Cassian and Nesta were completely out of the question.

Azriel...

"Ask him." The voice advised.

She needed to name that voice. She could not continue calling it "the voice", that was beginning to be uncomfortable.

"Maybe he can help you get the dress." It continued.

Would it be male or female? Or rather, what the hell was it?

"Are you listening to me?"

She definitely had no idea what it was.

"What are you?" Gwyn questioned, curious as she left the fiction section behind, walking aimlessly through the library.

She loved to wander aimlessly through the thousands of bookshelves, silent priestesses, the whisper of books her only company.

Besides that voice, of course.

"Have you heard anything I've said to you in the last two minutes?" Her voice roared.

"I've heard nonsense, so no, I haven't heard anything." She claimed. "But anyway, you haven't answered my question. What are you?"

"I am everything and I am nothing at the same time."

Now was it was being funny with her?

She rolled her eyes, annoyed "That is not an answer."

"It's an answer if you know how to interpret it." It answered.

She rolled her eyes again.

"Well, at least tell me what I can call you, it's uncomfortable to think of you as 'The voice'" She asked.

The voice fell silent, which she thought meant the end of the conversation.

She decided to head over to her room, assuming she should start Merrill's work, until 'the Voice' answered her.

"Elián"

Gwyn stood in the middle of the bedroom hall

"That is your name?" She asked.

"My real name would burn your lips if you were able to pronounce it" It replied. "But yes, Elián is my name, and I am 'him', I have noticed how you struggled because you did not know if I was a man or a woman. The definition of gender is much more complicated than that, but it will be enough".

"G-Good." She answered.

Elián was quiet at last, leaving her with her own thoughts, as she opened the door, her own scent of jasmine feeling welcoming.

And the proposal he had made, although obviously she had ignored it, she was not wrong to consider.

Perhaps the Shadowsinger would help her out, aiding her finding a decent dress for her.

She closed the crank behind her, sitting on the small bed, wondering if it would be smart to ask him, risking him saying no, or not asking him and risking not having a dress for the ceremony.

Sighing, she figured she should go to the bathrooms to get the sensation of dust - and the dust itself - off her body, so she grabbed change clothes and headed there, deciding at that moment that tomorrow she would ask the Spymaster if he could accompany her to buy a dress.

Inside her, she could feel Elián nodding his head, giving his approval.

TAG LIST (tell me if you want to be tagged or deleted) @bookish-isha @imsointobooks @shisingh @feyretale @niaacotar @flora-shadowshine @tealnymph24 @trashforazriel @hlizr50 @meher-sumedha @heyovivi @positivewitch @greywarens-magician @sageofthegalaxy @valkygwyn @verifiefangirl @verifiefangirl-mainblog @snickerdoodlechittybangbang @genya-berdara @katekatpattywack @frulyall @mercurianbisous @rainbowcheetah512

#omg here's the first chapter #i hope you like it <3 #gwynriel #my fic #acolas #acosf #acotar #nessian #elucien #gwynriel fanfiction #azriel #gwyn berdara #gwyn #gwyneth berdara

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snidgetwidgeon · 4 years ago

Text

Son of Hylia, Daughter of Farore

A roleswap Zelink AU

Art by @anxioussailorsoldier and used here with permission

This story is a one-shot inspired by the prompts from @drsteggy and was gifted to her in a fic exchange.

~~~

Link awoke suddenly, desperately trying to cling to the vision of a woman surrounded by bright light as it diminished from his foggy mind. Try as he might to enter back into the haze of his mysterious dream, sounds came louder and clearer to his ears, and he registered the rustle of the sheets sliding against his feet as he stretched, his senses slowly returning. Today would be a trying affair. He always remained fatigued after she appeared to him, ever speaking yet rendered frustratingly silent.

Perhaps he could try to lay low, hide in the library, and search yet again on the shelves he’d already scoured for something he may have missed; something to prove it was possible that he was having the visions vessels were known to have had. He just couldn’t interpret them. He spared a bittersweet thought for his late mother. She would have known, would have shown him. Or perhaps she would have bore a daughter, and there would be no question; and he could have supported his sister when they found out the Calamity was foretold to return.

But the Kingdom of Hyrule was left with a Prince at the precipice of doom. He’d never felt more useless, or more determined to do something about it. He would find a way. He would protect everyone.

Zelda shifted her feet, practicing her forms to warm up before training. She missed her scimitar. This new blade felt so different and she had to relearn how to make it an extension of herself. It was humbling when sparring partners she had previously bested came out on top. It just proved she still had much to learn and needed to become proficient with many weapon types if she wanted to be the greatest.

She recalled being a bit intimidated as her group of friends grew over the years. Where they used to be physical equals, they now towered above her; but she supposed she could be thankful for the challenge because it caused her to become an incredibly scrappy fighter, always looking for openings she could wheedle into.

This time she wheedled too far and forgot to watch her flank while in pursuit of one of her opponents. Another warrior swept in and bashed her ribs as she was on an upswing and it sent her flying. As she was pulled up, she couldn’t help but think spitefully that the same would not have happened if she were allowed her weapon of choice. She could have recovered with her scimitar but the swing on the Master Sword was different.

“Nice air you caught there,” her sparring partner teased in Gerudo. “Again?”

Zelda recovered her blade from a few paces away and declined, “I think I’ll just nurse my wounds and ego for awhile, thanks.”

“Suit yourself. I recommend you do solitary for a few days with your new acquaintance,” she pointed her chin towards the Master Sword in Zelda’s grip. “See if you two can make friends,” she winked and ran back to join the fray.

Zelda stared down at the sword with slight contempt. Urbosa had told her of the legends she’d learned from the late Queen of Hyrule, and her son, Prince Link- that the sword was wielded to protect Hylia, and how the blade itself chose its master and would even communicate. Someone being chosen meant that a shit storm was likely brewing.

Urbosa also mentioned that preparations were being made against some sort of Calamity. The word made Zelda’s blood run cold and she knew it was something to be feared. If the sword was not speaking to her, perhaps it chose wrong and she was not suited to the challenge. She had tried everything she could think of, even hours of meditation, which she hated because she didn’t like sitting still for long.

But it was all for naught.

She wove her way through the stalls and bustle of the marketplace, sword heavy on her back, and day after day it had only served to weigh her down even more. She could no longer stand it. She exited the north-western gates and ran along the outer wall. Heart pounding and sweating all over, she dug a rather shallow and pathetic hole, chucked the sword in and kicked sand over it before walking away in a huff, muttering, “Curse the day I found your infuriating silence!”

She’d been training in the desert when she discovered it, exploring further than she ever had over the dunes. Following the statues with their guiding swords, she finally came upon the last one and sheltered under her cloak at its base as a sandstorm passed. Thankfully, it was short and as she stood to shake as much sand as she could off her person, she noticed something strange in the distance. She could have sworn she’d reached the last statue of the warriors. Perhaps she’d miscounted as there stood another on the horizon, the reflection of its sword glinting brightly in its grasp.

Zelda took a drink from her ration, taking note of how much was left before deciding she could manage one more. If anything, it would improve her survival skills.

As she neared the solid figure rising out of the sands she noticed that the sword it held was elaborate. Oddly enough, a scabbard for it was slung over the shoulder which made it appear that someone had just left it there. She looked around but only saw a few cacti bearing voltfruits, perfect for carrying around extra moisture for the return trip. Some movement caught her eye behind a cactus and she ran over, pulling her scimitar, in case there was meat to be had, but she was met with a poof of sparkling petals and could have sworn she heard a childish giggle.

After investigating thoroughly, she cut the fruits and placed them into her bag before returning to the statue. It would be a shame to leave such a fine piece of work out in the middle of nowhere. She climbed the figure and slipped the scabbard off the shoulder, letting it fall to the sand before holding the neck and planting her feet against the torso so she could reach the hilt with her free hand. It did not budge. Hiking herself up, she wrapped her legs around the neck so she could use both hands to pull on the wings above the hilt.

She was straining when she heard the laugh again, accompanied by a rattle, and in her distraction, the blade suddenly came loose and they both tumbled into the sand.

She’d thought nothing of it until returning to Gerudo Town.

During a routine visit to the throne room, Chief Urbosa had nearly sent away visiting dignitaries when she spied the sword on Zelda’s back. After the meeting, Urbosa called her into her private quarters, which was very unusual. Perhaps she was to be given a special assignment.

“Where did you find that sword?” Urbosa asked with intense interest and a hint of concern.

Zelda stood at attention and replied concisely, “In the desert, Chief.”

“Zelda, have you any idea what you’ve found?”

Zelda began to doubt her decision to play finders keepers. Maybe it was a ceremonial sword or relic that should have stayed where it was. Though she had been raised with the Gerudo, she certainly did not purport to know all of their culture and was horrified by the idea that she’d deeply offended them.

~~~

Urbosa removed her bracelets and hair ornaments, letting the thick, red locks fall down her back. Making sure her tea would be in reach, she snuggled into her bed and opened a letter from her favorite Hylian. She always saved his letters for the end of the day when her attention could be undivided and she could imagine actually having a conversation with him. He was so bright and inquisitive, and optimistic- as his letter revealed. Just like her love.

~I have not given up my search. I keep thinking that surely, there is a pocket in the library I have not scoured. But then another duty and another day takes me away from it. I see her, Urbosa. It has to mean something. If only I could find evidence that there has been a son of Hylia. Why else would I be given visions? If only I could interpret them...

Do you know how mother did it? Did she ever say anything?~

He then went on to describe his involvement with the funding of the research at the Royal Ancient Lab as well as other gossip that he and Urbosa kept up on, including their inside jokes about stuffy nobles. He also wanted to hear more about the warrior who had pulled the Master Sword.

~Does the bearer of the Blade that Seals the Darkness fare well? The moment I learned of her, I hoped that it was a sliver of evidence to prove my case. If there is a woman as Farore’s chosen, then perhaps it lends weight to the fact that a man could be Nayru’s chosen. But I’m harping. Perhaps I will be able to meet her soon, though father keeps me tied up in social engagements. He has taken to parading me at events where there are ample amounts of young debutantes to vie for my attention. I’d much rather be studying.~

Urbosa wrote back early the next morning after skimming the letter again.

~It seems our chosen Hero is having trouble awakening the power within the blade. When you sent word of legends that say the sword speaks to a worthy master, she immediately felt inadequate. Zelda excels at any challenge and eventually overcomes all obstacles, so when she continually failed to connect with the sword’s spirit, she took out her frustrations in a childish manner. The other day she was witnessed burying it in the sand outside the town walls. She must have blown off all her steam because she did retrieve it later that night.

I think that learning her fate has been weighing on her. She puts on a stoic face but I can see she has reservations. Perhaps if you two came together, something will give?~

After reading Urbosa’s reply, Link laid the parchment back down on his desk and pondered her proposition. He had been wanting to expand his search outside the castle for sometime and though he enjoyed visiting the Royal Lab, it did not hold any answers for what he sought; they were just a bunch of rowdy mechanics who were a lot of fun to hang around with. But to understand his history and role, he wanted to go on a pilgrimage to the known spiritual sites of Hyrule, and perhaps discover unknown ones as well so he could be better informed on how to defeat the Calamity, and possibly awaken the power of Hylia along the way.

He would start making arrangements right away.

~~~

King Rhoam rapped his knuckles on the door of his son’s study. When Link answered with a curt nod and a polite greeting, he entered, leaving his guard detail outside. He thought it prudent to retain at least some privacy for this matter, considering the gossip it could generate.

“I hear you’re planning some sort of trip,” it came out as a statement more than a question.

“A pilgrimage. To try and find any proof of my suspicions-”

He was interrupted by his father’s large, dissatisfied sigh. “Link, you really must stop harping on about that nonsense. Hylia has only ever been reincarnated into the mortal body of a female, that’s just the way it is. A tradition that extends even far beyond what we have in written history.”

“Exactly. We don’t know everything. How do you explain my visions? Mother had them. She knew how to interpret them.”

“Perhaps they’re just dreams,” Rhoam offered again in a misguided attempt to engage.

Link smacked the book he was about to pack on the table in frustration. “I can’t believe you keep saying that, you just don’t understand.”

“What I understand is that you continue to foolishly insist on chasing dreams and fantasies rather than doing something tangible for your people. You’re wasting time, Link. You should be courting and choosing a wife so that you can pass on the bloodline to a potential Princess who will-” Rhoam saw the shock in his boy’s face and tried to change track, “We have no idea when the Calamity will strike, we should be doing everything we can to prevent disaster.”

Link clenched his jaw as a deep anger and loathing swelled in his breast. Voice trembling in rage, he rebutted, “I am not going to produce an heir just to send her to the slaughter. I will fight my own battles. This Calamity is coming down on us! I just need to figure out how to awaken Hylia’s power.” He grabbed his bag and stormed out before Rhoam could push his agenda further.

~~~

The next letter Urbosa received from Link outlined his travels. She grinned as she read through them, glad that he’d managed to get away.

~The Forgotten Temple was very difficult to access, and though it did not produce any results, it was a breath taking trip. It has the largest Goddess Statue I have ever seen and I felt a peculiar familiarity while standing under her benevolent smile. I think this is promising.

We’re now at the ruins of the Temple of Time on the Great Plateau. I’m no stranger to the place of course, but the Priestess has been most helpful in providing old texts to study that were not available at the Castle. She’s even offered to assign a scribe to make copies for me.

I hope to be underway again soon and I would like to visit the Seven Heroines. I want to leave no stone unturned. I shall send a dispatch for when we expect to be arriving in the desert.~

When the time came, Urbosa bid Zelda to be an escort for the Prince across the sands to Gerudo Town. “Listen carefully, Zelda. Being the Prince is more than reason enough to keep him safe, but there may be a chance that he is so much more. The fact that you wield that sword lends weight to his theory that he may be Hylia reborn.”

Zelda’s eyes widened but she remained silent, nodding dutifully.

“I’ll need you to deliver some supplies to him so that he may enter unmolested upon arrival.”

“Chief?” Zelda asked, uncertain about the order. Hylia possibly being in a boy she could handle, but in all her time there, she’d never heard of a voe entering Gerudo Town. For Urbosa to speak of it almost as if it were done every other day was- confusing, to say the least.

Urbosa raised her brow at the question. “He is my Oten’vehvi and knows how to behave within these walls. You need not concern yourself with the politics, just act as his personal guard.”

“Yes, Chief.”

She made her preparations and checked that all was secure with the ‘contraband.’ The idea of meeting the Prince was troubling to say the least. She felt completely inadequate, bearing a sword that considered her unworthy. Perhaps she could pass it onto him and he could find the most courageous person in Hyrule. With his resources she was sure it wouldn’t be that hard. Then again, legendary swords weren’t known for choosing incorrect Heroes, so what was wrong with her?

They would just have to work together somehow.

She rode most of the way at a leisurely pace behind her sand seal until she noticed a scuffle as she neared Kara Kara. “HUP!” she directed her seal to go a bit faster to investigate.

A couple of Hylian vai shrieked when they saw her. “The Prince! Please save our Prince!” they cried as they pointed west.

There were two Yiga chasing after a nimble blond clad in light blue. She sprung after them, tongue rolling in a call to let her mount know they needed to go as fast as if they were fleeing a molduga.

The Prince was doing well for himself until he fell, a prey disposition coming over him. He scooted back but could only stare at the assassins, frozen in fear.

Zelda used her inertia to whip across the sand and jumped to land between the Prince and his attackers. She drew her sword, imbued with courage and confident that she could easily protect the boy against the likes of this desert rabble. She almost become distracted by the sword’s sudden glow before exchanging blows with the masked Yiga. They soon realized they were no match for her and dispersed in pops of red and orange light, laughter echoing in their place.

Breathing heavily, she turned back to face the Prince who was still flat on his bum. They both ogled the glowing sword.

An ethereal, disembodied voice broke the silence, “Master, it is good to see you again.”

Their eyes snapped to each other and searched for understanding. There was an immediate and unmistakable bond between them. They’d both heard it.

“I see...” Zelda began. She glared down at the Master Sword, fist clenching the handle and shaking with anger. “So you only deign to speak when your charge is present?” Her voice rose, “I wasn’t good enough for you?! You picky piece of shit!” she yelled as she hurled the sword into the dunes.

Link gaped in disbelief that his protector was so uncouth when something profound occurred to him. He fell back into the sand laughing, a massive wave of relief washing over him.

She looked at him curiously. “What? What is it?”

His laughter died down and he gazed into the sky, moisture glistening in the corner of his eye. “She’s with me.”

Zelda’s eyebrows knitted in confusion, unaware of the turmoil he had experienced regarding his identity.

Link stood and brushed himself off then held out his hand in greeting. “You must be Zelda. Bearer of the Blade that seals the Darkness.”

She accepted his shake and added spitefully, “More like the blade that won’t open its trap unless its mommy is around.”

“You know, I find it very intriguing, my mother’s name was also Zelda.”

“Yes, my mother was a big fan. It’s kind of flattering, she was a great lady. But people always joke that I’m the lost, secret princess and other nonsense.” She started to move away but he touched her arm and she paused.

“Thank you- for saving my life; but also for revealing the truth. Now that I know she’s here,” he touched his heart, “I will find her.”

Zelda eyed him like a strange bug, still unsure as to what he was on about. She patted his shoulder as she walked over to retrieve her weapon, “Good luck with that.”

~~~

A few nights later, Link and Urbosa took a stroll just outside of town to enjoy each other’s company, catching up on their daily lives. The stars twinkled brightly and the moon shone pale on the dunes, a steady breeze drifting the sands away to the dark horizon. He’d just intimated what his father would have him do to stay the coming Calamity.

She touched his shoulder in support, “And what did you say?”

“That this was our battle. And I would absolutely not have a child just to-” he sighed deeply. “I mean, I know the legends. There will always be a vessel of Hylia and her chosen Hero, but to be so deliberate and unfeeling about it, I just...”

“It’s alright. Your father has always been rather blunt, and practical to a fault. For what it’s worth, I believe in you. The visions you describe sound very similar to what your mother shared with me.”

He looked up to her with a smile, “It’s worth a lot, you’re my Oten’baba; your opinion matters to me more than anyone else.”

They continued on for a short time in companionable silence when Urbosa stopped and lifted her head to the night, listening and placing a hand on her scimitar.

“What is it?” Link asked, only noticing after he’d taken a few steps ahead.

A raucous laughter cut across the desert and as quick as Urbosa had been to draw her blade and prepare a snap of deadly electricity over her foes, two of them grabbed the Prince and held their sickles to his neck causing her to stay her hand.

“What a lovely package we have here tonight. Not only can we bag the boy, we can finally rid ourselves of the thorn in our side, Gerudo Tempest!” a Yiga foot soldier, hidden amongst the rest, spat the last two words out in disgust.

They attacked and dozens fell upon the Chief, running head on and popping up behind. A dance of blades began and Link struggled to free himself. Urbosa tried to lead her foes away but Link’s captors followed, dragging his feet through the sand.

“You’ll not be using your lightning with the precious Prince so close, will you?” gloated the same antagonizing voice.

Link cried out in terror when he saw a Yiga succeed in cutting her arm. She seethed and decked them right across the jaw. When they fell she jumped onto their back and launched herself in the air so she could shoot off a bolt.

“Oh, no! Is the Tempest in distress?” the voice goaded, and the masks cackled.

Link couldn’t tell where the mocking was coming from, they were everywhere and nowhere at once. There were too many. Urbosa was becoming overwhelmed and aid may not arrive in time- a gash landed on her leg- he was going to lose her. The laughing was getting louder, the air becoming so thick with magic that it tasted like chalk on his tongue- a slice was delivered up her back and she cried out. He squeezed his eyes shut and thought of his mother. What would she do? There hadn’t been anything he could do for her then, but he was here now for his living mother.

Link’s eyes shot open just in time to see Urbosa drowning under the onslaught and his insides fell into oblivion. They were replaced by a warmth that spread through his body and beyond. He jerked his head in confusion as those that held him fell away. He was free. Sparks akin to those he felt when he fell asleep on his hand in the library spread through his fingers and he launched himself into the foray. He clawed through Yiga soldiers to get to her and did not see how each one he yanked was thrown back with a force of golden energy.

“Urbosa! URBOSA!?” They hit the ground.

The desert was lit with a false sunrise as Link crushed Urbosa in a desperate embrace. The light washed over her, healing her wounds as it cascaded around them in a dome, their enemies lying motionless on the outside.

After a few stunned moments, they opened their eyes and picked each other up. Urbosa held his face in her hands and wiped his tears. “Just look at you,” she said, smiling proudly.

“I- I couldn’t. I was,” he stumbled over his words as more tears fell, “I was going to lose you. I couldn’t lose you too,” he cried into her chest and she held him close.

~~~

Link was a natural at seal surfing. That’s what Zelda thought before she realized that he must have actually visited Gerudo Town previously and she just didn’t know it. They had left at sunrise and arrived to their destination mid morning. After taking a much needed rest, re-hydrating and snacking, Link took a leisurely walk around the place to get his bearings while Zelda tended to the sand seals. She joined him after they were settled for a long siesta and the two of them began their research of the Seven Heroines in interest.

There were orbs scattered about the place. Very large, Link noticed. He pushed one with his foot. And heavy. The sand seals might have to work after all. He tasked Zelda with collecting any she could find and in the meantime he studied the statues, picking up rather quickly that some had prominent corresponding symbols to the orbs on various parts of their bodies. Some he couldn’t make out as they were too high so there would be some educated guesses by process of elimination.

Zelda couldn’t help being drawn into his enthusiasm, the way he took notes- the face he made when he took those notes; it was all very quaint, and a bit impressive. Having spent most of her time advancing physically, she appreciated the mental gymnastics they were doing. Where most might sit back defeated, Link pushed through with a calm determination. They tried dropping the orbs in the pedestals in numerous combinations, each with a sound theory behind them. How was Link to know that if shrines had been activated, he would have succeeded in getting a result on the first try? A fact that they both wouldn’t learn for another 103-odd years.

After the sun set, Link scrawled until the dimming light rendered the page unreadable. Zelda had already set about making camp. They could head back to town in the morning, both were knackered. Even with the help of the seals, they’d heaved plenty of orbs around for hours. Eventually he plopped down on the rug with her and heaved a big sigh.

“Wow, you been working all day or something?” she asked in jest as she turned the vegetables in the fire.

“Yeah, something like that. It’s been a long while since I’ve been out in the field.”

She regarded him thoughtfully. “What’s it like up at the castle?”

“Stuffy.”

She chuckled and didn’t press but it wouldn’t be fair to leave it at that. For all its faults, it deserved more. “I loved exploring the halls as a boy. I’m fairly certain I found long lost passages even the castle historian didn’t know about. My favorite places are the Library and the Observatory. “

“Sounds about right,” Zelda smirked.

“Ha ha. But really, the Library has books as far as you can see, you’d never finish them in one lifetime. And my mother used to take me to the Observatory. I still go there to feel close to her.”

They sat in silence for a moment when Zelda touched his forearm. “I’m sorry you lost her.”

Link nodded in thanks and Zelda started to collect the hearty truffles from the coals. “I lost my father,” she began, and Link was a bit surprised she was sharing.

“He was a knight. We didn’t have any other family close by and mom didn’t fancy moving to Tabantha Village. She hates the cold,” Zelda added as she passed Link a stick laden with dinner.

“Thanks. So she just came to the desert instead?” Link asked before blowing generously and taking a bite.

“She had a close friend here who is practically my auntie. I think she was hoping we could just get away and start fresh from everything we knew before. But then I had to take after dad. Took her a while and a lot of arguments to come to terms with the fact that I was also a warrior.” She shook her head. “I feel bad. I’ve put her in a constant fear of losing me too but... you have to do what your soul tells you, right?”

Link closed his eyes and thought of Hylia, feeling a vibration in his core. “Right.” He agreed thoughtfully.

“Anyway, then this happened,” she said, unsheathing the sword on her back a few inches and letting fall back in with a shinck. “That was not a fun conversation.”

“I can imagine,” Link commiserated as he thought of his own recent rows with his father.

Zelda took a bite of her own truffle and regarded him up and down. With no tact for manners, she said with a full mouth, “You’re alrigh’ fo’ a Pince.”

Link laughed and his genuine mirth spread warmth through Zelda’s chest. “And you’re alright for a Hero.”

#breath of the wild #zelink #fanfiction #roleswap au #prince link #champion zelda #urbosa #king rhoam #Son of Hylia Daughter of Farore #snidgetwidgeon scribbles

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bvccy · 4 years ago

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Friend, if you are still open for request, can you please do Heliotrope with the Winter Soldier? 🥺 please thank you 💛💛💛

My dear 😭 I am so so sorry for how long this took! I just hope you can enjoy the fic. It’s a little bit spooky at the beginning, but WS is soft and so is our reader. And they get their happy-ever-after 💗

Thank you very much for this prompt also! 🌺🌺🌺

— PAIRING: soft!Winter Soldier x female!Reader — PROMPT: Heliotrope - walking in the sun, and losing each other — LINKS: Masterlist • love stones prompt list — WORDCOUNT: 2.1k

They had been living in darkness for months, and the oppressive cold that battered against the walls with fierce winds all day, and hungry howls at night — not that one could tell night from day in the sunless vastness, except by the ticking of the clock.

Hydra had installed that arctic facility at the mouth of a crater, covered by ice over the ages to conceal its dubious treasure. It was clear to the Soldier that the treasure was not made up of precious things, but it was only when the crew finished digging all the way down that he understood why all the scientists were there...

It was difficult for him to tell who the shuttle belonged to. It might have been some advanced technology from America, but then how did it get so deep down, so quickly? Maybe it was an old German prototype from the war, but it didn't look like any he'd seen before. Or maybe Hydra was just recovering their old property from past attempts... It didn't matter, he was just there to guard the scientists while they did the work.

The other soldiers stationed with him stopped taking the job seriously after the first three months, but he kept watch, and paid attention, and didn't miss the odd slimes that seeped across the floor out of those metal shells, nor the odd crunch as the scientists cut into something that looked soft and milky, but held like bone. And the smells, the cold metallic smells like iron dipped in silver... It sometimes felt like home, but he knew better than to let that grip him. And he kept watch.

The one chemist that doubled as the chef didn't make particularly good meals, but they were hearty, and if he was being honest, he was eating better at this isolated station than he did at the Base — felt freer too, almost in charge of his destiny, if one didn't count the frozen wastes he'd have to survive if he ever wanted to run. But the Soldier couldn't imagine why he'd ever wish to run.

Especially when she was here.

Studying the files of all the scientists on the mission, her portrait stood out as particularly sad, morose, with a bit of a death glare toward the cameraman. But when he actually saw her, she seemed sweet like a spring day and even happy to be there. She looked up into his eyes as she walked into the protected area to study their find, blinking up from beneath a mess of furs and protective equipment, but there was a smile crinkling around her gaze. As the months drew on and everyone got more bored with staying there, and loose with themselves, they'd sometimes play some music in the lab, and the Soldier didn't know why he liked it so much or felt the need to dance with someone.

The military staff initially had their own mess hall, a small room with a kitchenette where they could eat together, but then one of the doctors needed it to test the effects of temperature changes on some of the samples, and the place was... contaminated every since. Now, they all ate together. The girl who'd caught his eye tended to eat with her own team, the Geologists, but he could feel her looking at him sometimes, he noticed her lingering when he was around even if she was about to leave, and a few times she even dared approach him — under the excuse of getting the jar of sugar that was on his other side rather than reaching for the one next to her, or leaning down to get some plate she didn't need from right by his knees. It wasn't until she tried to reach a glass above his head, beyond her grasp, that he gave in and acknowledged her.

"Thank you," she said as he handed her the cup — the first time she'd ever said anything to him. Her voice suited her, but beyond its soft tones the Soldier was struck by being thanked at all. When was the last time that happened? What did one say in response?

"You're welcome?"

And he seemed so unsure saying it that he made her giggle.

She was inevitable after that, not because she was trying to be found but because he allowed himself to be around her, to guard her door while she chipped at stones and studied them, to sit near her during lunch — not right beside her, the Soldier still had a lingering shyness about that, but at least on the table opposite, from which they could look at each other if they wanted.

The long night was almost over, four months into their stay at this forsaken place, and the pair had taken to something really dangerous: in the small barn attached to the base, where some dry supplies were kept along with canisters of fuel, they escaped together while everyone else slept. He had led her there first, asking timidly whether she'd...

"Want to see something new?"

"Always," the girl grinned.

And so they found themselves piled on top of one another like firewood, almost not feeling each other beneath the layers of fur that kept them warm, but just being in each other's presence was... something. It was quiet without being quiet, with another real soul there, thinking its own thoughts in harmony with you.

The Asset wouldn't allow himself to fall asleep, though he did close his eyes sometimes and let the girl relax against him, and doze off, and during those times he allowed his arm to come down from where it propped his head up and wrap itself around her, holding her still — as if she were in danger of falling off some imaginary bed.

Nobody ever seemed to wonder where they both disappeared to, nobody noticed, which was why he was all the more surprised to hear shouting on that day. The Soldier didn't move, just tightened his arm around his little partner more. But when a bloodcurdling cry echoed through the vastness, he shook her awake.

"Wha—"

"Get up. The base is under attack," he muttered, reaching for the rifle laid beside him.

"That's crazy, who would attack us all the way out here?"

He didn't want to tell her what he thought, but only made her hide out in the shed while he went out to scout the area. Turning his radio on, nothing came through. There were no helicopters around, no trucks, no marks in the snow that anyone had attacked — at least, not from the outside. On the horizon, just the rays of a reluctant dawn were shining.

There was silence for a while, and then another symphony of screams rang out, muffled by the walls and the desperate shots of whoever was left inside, glass and metal knocked over, broken, and silence once again. Stepping away slowly, then more hurriedly, the Soldier returned to where he'd left the girl and picked her up by the elbow.

"Come on, we're leaving."

"Leaving where?" she cried out, confused and even slightly angry. "What's going on?"

"We're under attack."

"But our research..."

The Soldier dragged her to where the trucks were parked, and after the first flush of confusion she went along quietly. He gave her the rifle to hold while he looked in the back, making sure they had enough supplies for whatever drive awaited them — gas was there, some blankets too, and more ammunition. It would have to do. And without sparing another moment, he got in beside her and drove off. Against the rumbling of the engine as it drifted on the ice, a shrill scream cut through the frozen air and reached them, not sounding human nor animal nor like anything in the world, except perhaps a demon. The girl didn't look back, she wouldn't dare, she just looked quietly at the Soldier as she slowly understood. They drove into the sunrise as its rays burned away everything behind, and the snowdrifts buried it.

They didn't stop until the sky was bright as a midday, many hours later.

"Are we slowing down?" the girl mumbled sleepily.

"We're nearing a town," he said, eyes on the GPS. "Need to check that the road is clear. And that we are, too."

She stretched the shivers from her bones, but deep down she trusted the Soldier to keep them safe.

Getting out in what-felt-like days, frozen stiff, muscles aching from the shot of fear that penetrated down to her bones, the girl got out and reached for the sky with all she had. The air felt freer and fresher than ever before, even though it still hurt her lungs when it reached to their very bottom, but she loved such a pain — it felt like life.

The Asset walked slowly to her, just watching silently and smiling a half-smile at the sight of her all ruffled and soft, and safe.

"What do you think happened to the base?"

"Guess it's a mess by now," he hummed, bringing one gloved hand to feel around her head, her shoulders, down her arms, but always gently.

"We woke that thing up, didn't we?"

"You're the smart one, you tell me."

Her lips pursed — she never liked it when he teased her, but she tried never to reproach him for it, loving this sign of his personality shining through. "Are we far enough away now?"

"I don't know," he sighed, finally looking back into her eyes. "Are we?"

"The sun would kill it."

"How do you know that?"

She didn't answer but wouldn't look away either, and her determined gaze was enough for him. She did know more than he did, she'd spent months studying whatever that was, and that was fine by him. So long as none of it had managed to sneak on board.

"Stay close to me."

They walked around the car together and he checked the back, the wheels, then climbed on top and checked there too. Through the clearness of the day, he could even see the edges of a road that must've lead to that town. The car seemed clean, but they were close enough to a rescue that he'd rather not take any risks, and so picking up just a few useful things and one backpack, they started walking.

The snow got less deep and crunched beneath their boots, the wind was gentler downhill and even moved through the tendrils loosened from their hoods, shaking off the frost. In the distance, one tree stood tall, thin and dark and barren but alive, and over all of them the sun kept shining.

"We're almost at the road," said the Soldier, spotting a black snaking line a few meters ahead. He turned his head when he didn't hear anything back, but there was only the glint of sunlight on the snow.

Amorphous fog covered the horizons, and hills and dales of white, and suddenly the light felt very hot and burned his body as he turned frantically around and called for her. With mad fear, he traced back their steps up the snowy hill, nearly swimming through it as he called for her, terrified of the unthinkable.

Then, as if from the sea, a lone hand reached up and waved at him. Within one breath, he'd reached her, sitting in the snow just a few feet away.

"I'm so tired..." she huffed, burrowing like a rabbit. "Can't we rest a while?"

"You didn't rest enough in the car? Get up," he grumbled, pulling her up to her feet. He regretted snapping as soon as he saw her sad little face, and sighed. "I'm sorry. I was worried."

"I'm sorry too, for being so weak..."

Before thinking, he pulled her in and kissed the snow off her mouth. "None of that," he smiled as their lips parted. "Come on, we're so close. I'll carry you a bit if you want."

The girl shook her head mutely, face already flushed from frost but now truly heated. To be cared for, and worried about, and searched like that, and kissed... It put the life right back into her.

He kept his word and carried her in his arms at one point, but they both walked in the town together. Nobody knew who they were or where they came from and some had a few murmured questions, but by the time Hydra sent an extraction team for them, it didn't matter — they were gone, lost in the wind like two rays of sunshine.

#wint3r-h3art #Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Barnes #Winter Soldier #Sebastian Stan #marvel #mcu #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes x reader #Sebastian Stan fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #Winter Soldier fanfiction #Winter Soldier imagine #Winter Soldier x reader #bv;fanfiction #bv;oneshots #bv;answers

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howdoesagrapewrites · 4 years ago

Text

All yours, Babooshka.

Tags: Yelena x fem!reader, soulmate!au, fluff with a bit of angts, historically completely incorrect, happy ending.

TW: depiction of war, brief mention of sex, homophobic slur a few times, suicide.

Synopsis: War is no place for loving, it never was, but maybe you could love her again in the 21 Century, i mean, only if you could stop feeling so overwhelmed by her only existence, but no matter what, you can't stop something that's meant to be.

Notes: one, i don't like the part 4, it just feels lazy to me, and two, i'm not a native, so please tell me if i made a mistake <3

Part one: When she was beautiful.

Yelena Armanovna, as strong as ten soldiers, the jewel of the battlefield, once was just a kid, her land was destroyed by the war, and as the only child of the house, she was forced to join the army, or else die there, she became a soldier, and she desired that the war wasn't real, that she hadn't being born into this world, that no one had.

Everyone knew that she didn't talk a lot, most of their fellow soldiers didn't even knew where she came from, or if she was even from Russia, the only one she talked to was a nurse, her name was y/n y/ln, and like Yelena, no one knew about her origin, the nurse was way more talkative than Yelena, but she was assigned to other areas, staying with older soldiers, child soldiers, or severely injured soldiers, she was called by the child soldiers "angel", because of her comforting aura in hard times like those.

These women wouldn't be able to meet eachother if it wasn't for the near-death experience Yelena faced one time. She got shot by a hidden enemy, fainted from the blood loss and was taken to the nursery right away, they couldn't afford to lose her. That's when you saw the look in her eyes, that look, and you knew that death was upon the jewel of the battlefield, and you knew that if she died, everyone else will die, you tried as hard as you could to stay cool during the surgery, but you were breaking, because of all the hope that was layed on her shoulders, she was the hope of everyone else in that place to return home someday, even if Russia didn't won the war, her strenght will keep a few alive. So there you were, assisting the surgery of the one that could do something to keep everybody safe and triying to act like it didn't meant a thing. At the end, she survived, and with her, the dreams of returning to your home, you were the one assigned to take care of her, and you were going to make sure Yelena survived.

Part two: Uncanny how she remind her of her little lady.

—"¿Yelena Armanovna?" You asked to the blonde girl laying on the bed.

"Yes" she answered without taking her deep eyes out of the book.

You told her that it was your bed she was in, pointing at your last name on the post-it next to the bed, then showing her the same mark on the bed across the room where it said: "J. Armanovna".

"Ah, i hate when they misspeal it, it's Yelena with a "Y". Well, sorry, but this is the only bed i can sleep in, i'm kinda tall, you can use mine, i will give you a cookie for your kindness." She concluded with a little smile, you notices how her voice was way sweeter than you could think considering how menacing her looks were.

At the end you decided to let her keep the bed, thinking it wouldn't mean anything, how wrong you were, now you could look at her sleeping without moving from the bed, and you did it, you thought it was so creepy and you wanted to stop, but you couldn't, why? Why were you obsessed with the sight of her closed eyes and dry lips at night? Why did she gave you this insane feeling of comfort and loss at the same time? It was so uncanny.

No matter how weird It felt, you couldn't escape from Yelena, she was your roommate, and your classmate in some of your classes, on top of that, she was quite nice, a very smart lady with a pleasent personality, so you had no excuse to be mean or distant whenever she asked about your day, or started a small talk when the professor was late. Along with that sort-of friendship, you also knew Yelena's group; a beautiful girl with raven hair named Pieck, a blonde sarcastic man named Zeke, sometimes his brother Eren, and Hanji, a very excentric and funny person. These people were good friends to you, more than you expected, and that confirmed you: there was nothing wrong about Yelena, and you had no reason to be disturbed by her… Well, to be honest, there it was a little thing that made you upset, Pieck said that Yelena liked Zeke, again, you had no reason to be mad, but you were anyway. Why did you felt so attached to this lady? Why did you did what you did?

It was 2:00 am, you couldn't sleep and you were so ashamed of being doing what that thing, what thing? Writing a love letter, a love letter to Yelena, with a pseudonym, with the first word that popped into your head: "Babooshka". You put perfume on the paper, and you signed it under that name, a scented letter, when you were finished, you let the envelope under your bed, and let it on Yelena's locker.

Part three: How she was before the tears.

She woke up, feeling dazed and almost disappointed for being alive, when Yelena saw you, she recognized you for the stories of her colleagues, "Angel?" She guessed.

"Hello", you smiled and giggle a bit for that nickname, "My name is y/n y/ln, and i will take care of you until you are better"

"If i'm with you means i'm already dead, you only take care of the ones that are almost there." Yelena asserted with a careless attitude.

You wanted to protest, but it was meaningless, you wouldn't make her upset in her state, "May i ask how is your wound feeling? Are you in pain?" You kept that polite and sweet smile on your face.

You kept taking care of Yelena, she healed way too soon, her body wanted to stay alive, but you couldn't say the same thing about her. You got to meet the real jewel of the battlefield, she told you her story, and you told her yours, you two knew everything about eachother, likes, dislikes, and sad pasts. You noticed how Yelena cried softly whenever she thought about her life before, her life before the tears, before the war, when she felt happy. And you also noticed that you could erase that tears, the touch between your soft hands and her ser face, was something magical, something that nobody could understand in that moment, but you two? You knew everything about it, about that love touch, those secret beautiful instants you shared.

You were the one crying when Yelena got better, you were joyful for her recovery, but you knew that she had to go, and after that, you were going to lose her forever, or so you thought. "We can send eachother letters, and we can meet at night." She reassured you while you were laying on her chest, skin to skin, she kissed your forehead and caressed your cheeks with her strong and graceful hands, you purred at her cuddled your body in hers, you liked to kiss her scars, she had so many, it showed how determined she was on the battle and you liked that, the eyes and body of a soldier, and the heart of a suave lover, Yelena was always elegant, her movements could been rough and beastily, but she was soft and neat, whether i'll be fighting, talking, or embracing you. You could say with pride that only you knew this side of Yelena Armanovna, the subtle dominance she always established on her manner mixed with the chivalry and dulcet, that made the blonde woman truly enticing and amusing to anyone with enough luck to discover it.

You knew that your letters to Yelena couldn't be too suspicious, so you took advantage of the fact that no one knew a thing about her, "Babooshka", was the pseudonym you choose, because everyone was going to think that it was from Yelena's grandmother.

Your first letter to her, was this one:

"My dearest Yelena, even though i promised that i wouldn't miss you too much, you have been away for three days and i'm already feeling the lack of your touch, and missing your dark eyes that make me shiver every time. I always thought that i would die without having loved, but you prove me wrong, i love you, i love every part of you, if i could picture perfection, it would be you, your laugh, your hair, the way you talk about home, everything about you would fit the word "perfect".

I swear to God and every star on the sky, that someday i will marry you, someday i will call you my wife, and you will be fully mine, and i will be fully yours. I know that you may think i'm silly because of this wish, but i know in my guts that i will become your wife, no matter how many years or Centuries i have to wait to do it.

All yours, Babooshka."

When Yelena read the letter, she felt nothing but joy, she couldn't use words to describe how in love she was with everyone of your words, and giggled at the idea of marriage, of course she would marry you, she would marry you all the times that she could, she will make you hers every time, and she would submit herself to you every time.

The two lovers kept sending and receiving love letters, and meeting at the comfort and hacen of the night, with only starts and the moon herself as a witness, sharing the intimacy of loving, not always touching two bodies, but the touch of two souls, two tormented souls who found love in a hopeless place.

It has been almost a year since the letters and secret meetings started to happen, Yelena and y/n couldn't be more in love, but tragedy was upon them. A soldier named Floch, started to notice the letters, and one day, he intercepted one, the love words were obviously not from Yelena's grandmother, and with fear of the jewel of the battlefield getting courted by a man who could get her pregnant and useless, this soldier tried to trace the letters, he spend days getting up triying to catch the mailman, and when he did it, he noticed that there wasn't an adress, so it must have been another soldier. After waiting for the guilty one to put the letter on the mail box, he saw y/n y/ln, the nurse, the angel, being a witness of how Satán corrupted the two women into a sapphic relationship, he ran into his superior's arms, showing him the evidence and warning him that given the nature of the letters, he may be grossed out by the devil's pervertion in the two women.

The superior gave orders of keeping Armanovna here, and taking the nurse away, into a convertion field.

Yelena was lucky to hear it, and she ran the fastest that she could into the critical patients nursery, where Y/N was. "Babooshka", she whispered at your ear while grabbing your arm yo take you away, you followed her into the woods. "What happened?" You asked with confution, you saw the look of pure fear un Yelena's eyes.

"They are going to tear us apart, they are are going to take you away, they will torture you there", she was ay the edge of crying, and so did you.

"What can we do?" You couldn't think anything, you were all feelings

"Die, that's our only option, if we run away they will find anyway." The tall one tried to stay calm, failing

"You can't die, you mean hope for everyone!" Your conscience was heavy, you couldn't let Yelena die for you

"Y/n… You are the love of my life, if they take you away, i will kill myself anyway, i can't live without you, i can't just survive anymore, i need to live, when i'm with you i'm alive." Yelena wrapped you in a hug and you felt the tears falling on her face.

At the end, you agreed, Yelena already had a little bottle hidden in her uniform, you both took sips until the bottle was empty, and you kissed and felt eachother like never before, because it was the last time, those were your last hours of life. You passed away after two hours, you were sleeping in Yelena's arms, while she was singing a lullaby from her hometown.

She started with a cracked voice; "I know i do not have silver or gold like many others,

but i promise that i will wrap my bride in silk" she stopped to cry a little.

"and i will love her with such depht,

that all my lacks she will forget,

and she will love until the end… "

Yelena cried louder, and before falling asleep, and looked at your corpse with adoration.

I'm all yours, Babooshka.

Part four: Babooshka

She woke up, ready for the exams, dressed with her usual suit, and put a lucky charm on her pocket.

She was getting to class when she remembered, "my lucky pen is in my locker", so she went to get it, and saw a letter that fell sloppylly on her perfectly organized locker. She looked at the envelope and read "Babooshka", It clearly wasn't from her grandmother, one, because she would have written in "the tongue of mother Russia", two, because she was a bitter old woman that didn't write her, never, not even on her birthday, and three, because it was on her locker, not the mailbox. She opened it go find a love letter that has essence of a known perfume, she received the letter with a strange delight, smelling it and making a place on her locker for the piece of paper.

These letters came one by one every week, and she knew they were from y/n, but Yelena couldn't help to love the letters, and she wanted to keep collecting more and more.

She decided to shoot her shot after two months, when you two were studying together, she kissed your lips out of nowhere, leaving you completely confused and flustered.

"I- i thought you liked Zeke…"

"Oh, i did" Yelena acted so shamelessly "But then you came."

"Do you say that a lot?" You asked annoying trying to shield from your notorious blush

"No, just you, Babooshka. I don't know why, but you make me fee… alive? I feel so close to you since i saw you."

You didn't know what to do, you felt the same way, and you were way too nervous to think a witty reprise.

"Why did you choose the pseudonym Babooshka?" Yelena have been wanting to ask you for a long time.

"For real? I don't know, it just, familiar? I guess"

"Ok, then" she smiled and pulled you closer

"I'm all yours, Babooshka."

#yelena headcanons #yelena #yelena aot #yelena x reader #yelena snk #yelena supremacy #yelena fanfic #aot fanfiction #babooshka #Babooshka songfic

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deaththesyd · 4 years ago

Text

To The Brink Of Confession: Chapter 3, Trapped

Finally done! I think I got a little carried away with the length, but I just couldn't stop writing! Hope y'all enjoy the final chapter! Also, per request @mytanuki-kun

Summary: Trapped in her domain, taking on what was left to fester.

The day he had been dreading finally arrived, and he was forced back into her proximity with no place to hide. He still tried though, but when that didn’t work and she approached him, signaling him out of the group, there was simply no way to excuse himself without merely delaying the inevitable. He had been acting a coward, but was he really willing to risk running away? Causing a scene in front of his fellow Akatsuki members? He looked away from her only to meet the daring eyes of his partner, Itachi, who surely knew that he had been contemplating an excuse that would keep the wrath he could feel rolling off her in waves from unleashing upon him. Another moment of weakness and he turned away, and was caught off guard by the side glance he received from Hidan of all people. Kisame was trapped, and the woman in front of him was growing impatient with his lack of a timely response. He had no choice but to face the consequences of his actions.

Following her nervously to her room, he was both thankful to be out of the spotlight and wished to be as far away from her as possible. Staying away from her had felt like hell, yet stepping into her room and watching as she furiously slammed the door closed, he felt as though he had found a fate much worse. Wanting to look away, save himself the torment of watching her, but still yearning to take any scrap of attention she could give won out easily. Running a frantic hand through her hair, she was unable to stand still, her normal fidgeting increased under the stress of her emotions, she began to pace in front of him, quietly fuming and gathering her thoughts. The moment of silence didn’t last long enough in his opinion. “What the hell is up with you?” She spoke loudly, obviously not expecting a response. “At first, I just thought maybe you needed space, that you were tired or something! But then a month goes by and you’re ‘busy’ on a mission! What a load of bull!”

Kisame remembered when he had requested that she be placed with another pair while he and Itachi traveled, the excuse had seemed reasonable enough. It seemed as though she hadn’t bought it.

“And now that you’re here, you’re absolutely silent! Nothing to say?” She growled, the accusation sounded more like she was daring him to say anything, rather than an opportunity to give an explanation. “Of course you don’t, just like you haven’t for the past few months!” The pent-up anger was unleashed, and all he could do was stand awkwardly, gritting his teeth and wishing he wasn’t the one who caused all of this to happen in the first place. Even when she was venting her anger at him, pacing back and forth frantically, she was the one who made his heart ache with longing. “I thought we were friends! I thou-”

“We were!” He broke in, but he realized his mistake when she paused in her movements and turned to look at him helplessly before her anger masked the pain.

“Were?” She shrieked, “What the he-”

“Are! I meant are!” He cut her off to correct his mistake,” God, Woman, obviously, I didn’t-”

“Guess I’m just an irrational woman then,” she hissed, cutting him off in return.

Glaring down at her, his frustration was met with a fiery challenge that came from her own gaze.

But she turned away first, most likely to hide the tears that had collected along her waterline. He was glad she had turned away at that moment because seeing her cry because of him twisted his expression in a way he couldn’t hide. When she spoke again, if he hadn't seen her tears before, he would have known she was crying by the slight waver in her voice. “If we’re friends, why have you been avoiding me?” It sounded like she was trying to sound angry, but all he could hear was her defeated tone and the way she struggled to steady her voice.

“I haven’t, I was busy with a mission,” he tried to dig into the lie, but he already knew it was a lost cause.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” She muttered, still cowering away, still trying to hide the tears that blurred her vision.

She wasn’t, he knew that, yet he kept his mouth shut.

“Am I just annoying?” She tried, pausing a breath to wait for a response, when he still didn’t say anything she continued, “Am I too emotional? Too hard to put up with, too needy? I’m not fun enough, or maybe I’m too loud, quiet? Am I too soft? So weak you can’t stand to be around me anymore?” Her emotion-filled voice rose with every new insecurity she listed and it didn’t seem like she was going to stop anytime soon. “You always have to take care of me, I’m sure it gets old, right? Spending your earnings on extra food, clothes, and supplies. Needing to break so often because a useless civilian like me can't keep walking day and night on a mission like a super-strong ninja like you. Giving up your own comfort so that I’m warm, throwing yourself in front of harm's way because I wouldn’t be able to survive even the wimpiest jutsu, wasting your energy on reassuring me that things are fine even when you’re fighting, it’s all too much and it’s all my fault.” Somewhere along the line, it seemed as though she wasn’t mad at him anymore, and the guilt hit full force when she turned to blaming herself.

“That’s not it,” he managed to say through gritted teeth, and she finally looked at him, angry tears running down her face. He could hear the scraping in his mouth from the amount of pressure he applied as he used all his strength to keep his face guarded and impassive.

“Then what is it about me that made you leave!?” She yelled, and he didn’t think about the words that came out in response.

“I can’t have you!” He yelled back, and suddenly the electric air that had crackled around them since the yelling had begun was no longer present. What had her tears dragged from him?

Raising his voice at her had been his last intention, right next to confessing his feelings, and he regretted it as she stepped back and pressed back against the door looking up at him in shocked bewilderment. The mix of her eyes on him, and his embarrassment at his loss of control made him feel like a pit opened in his stomach, and heat rushed up his neck as if to choke him. Right at that moment, he wished it would. Scaring her away wasn’t what he planned on doing, but for a second he feared that was what he had done. The initial shock wore off quickly though, and against the backdrop of tear tracks still fresh and glistening, her eyes became determined.

Pushing off from her spot against the door she took only a small step forward, but he stepped away, fearing what the look in her eyes meant. His whole life he had been a predator, but caught in her gaze he felt unsure if he was really the one to fear. Again she moved closer, and in response, he did the opposite. “What do you mean by that?” She asked quietly, once again closing the distance, and pushing him further away. “What do you mean you ‘can’t have me’?” She pressed, voice firm, her tone no longer angry. He wanted her to go back to being angry, that was better than the shame he felt now. He felt cornered, and when he ran out of space for retreat, the backs of his knees bent, forcing him to sit on her bed. Even with him sitting, she was just barely taller than him, yet he felt so small as she seemed to leer over him, blocking his exit. “Kisame,” she urged expectantly, “Tell me.”

He couldn’t break eye contact, not under this pressure, and the red puffy skin around her eyes was what made him give in. He had already said the worst thing possible, there was nothing else he could add to make her more disgusted. But was she really that disgusted if she could stand to be so close? The tiniest bit of hope managed to worm itself into his thoughts, and he couldn’t squash it when she looked at him so patiently. A lump had formed in his throat without him noticing and he gulped it down before he answered. “I can’t-” he started, then rethought, “I mean-” he struggled, not knowing how to tell her she was an unobtainable beauty for a murderous monster like him, that he was a subhuman beast that couldn’t ever hope to have her held in his arms, that she was meant for someone that was normal, and better looking, that he had spent the entirety of his life knowing that he was unlovable and that he was stupid enough to fall for her anyway. There were so many words that could have worked, but he couldn’t string together a complete sentence under the stifling atmosphere. The smallest part of him hoped she would give up on getting him to say anything, that she would give him some pity, but the rest of him felt this moment was a worthy punishment for the stupid desire he still had to hold her heart as she already did his.

So focussed on his sputtering attempts at supplying an answer, he jolted when her hand cupped his cheek, and he froze when she gently brushed her thumb along a gill slit. His eyes probably bugged out of his head in disbelief, but her own was glossed over in pensive thought. He didn’t dare move, and his head should have been spinning with thoughts, but instead, it was blank, nothing but the gentle warmth of her touching his face seemed to register. She spoke slowly, not meeting his questioning eyes, her thumb still rubbing back and forth along his cheek, “This was all because…” She focussed on him again, and he had no clue how he hadn’t seen the tears starting once again, “You have feelings for me?” Absolutely dumbfounded, he couldn’t speak, focussed on her teary gaze, he simply nodded. And then he was knocked backward.

It happened so fast, it took him a moment to process it all. The first thing he felt was the wet that seeped through his shirt, followed by the warmth of the sobbing woman shoving herself into him, fisting fabric as she buried her sobs into his chest. Another moment of half laying on her bed with her sprawled on top of him and he felt his arms wrap around her, gently, unsure if he should, if he was allowed, but she didn’t protest, and he felt too greedy to restrain himself. They lay there for what seemed like forever, but he still couldn’t find any words that were worth saying, and she was preoccupied with drenching his shirt. What possessed him, he had no clue, but one arm slid up her back and a hand began to comb through her hair carefully. She didn’t protest, and he momentarily noted that it was the only time she hadn’t when he touched her hair. It was soft, the tangles that caught on his fingers pulled apart without resistance, and if he focused, he could faintly smell the scent of her shampoo. It was nice, the sweet fragrance fit her. He felt creepy sniffing her hair like an animal, so he turned his head away from the tempting smell. The longer he played with her hair, the more her crying died down, until she stopped. The silence continued, only broken by her deep breaths as she tried to regain some composure. His hand still resting on her back began to rub firm circles in a way that felt natural. Once again, she either didn’t mind, or she simply lacked the energy to stop him, but once he started he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Especially not when the grip on his shirt lessened and she relaxed her tense muscles.

“You’re so stupid,” she muttered, and it hurt, but it felt right to finally hear her rejection. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to stop his greedy hands from taking what they could. “What do you mean, ‘I can’t have you’?” She laughed humorlessly, and he was confused, didn’t she know? Ripping his hands away the moment they were met with resistance, he looked at her as she pressed up from her position on his chest. “You already have me,” she said, her voice gentle and reassuring, as she moved to hover over him, repositioning herself, before lowering herself to press her lips to his. Kisame had been kissed before, he wasn’t completely inexperienced, but the soft press of her lips to his was enough to make him forget to respond, and by the time he caught up with what had happened, they were gone. Caught off guard once again, he hadn’t closed his eyes, and he saw her eyes flutter open as she put space between them again, shifting her weight to tuck her hair behind her ear as she leaned over him, stunning him with the affection clear in her adoring gaze. “You’ve had me this whole time.”

It felt so unreal, all of his actions couldn’t have been his, yet who else’s could they have been? Greedy hands pulled her down, needy mouth pressed against hers, eliciting sighs that he wasn’t ready to accept were caused by him, running his hand through her silky locks again, taking advantage of the high chance that this would never happen again. But it did, they had to come up for air, but almost immediately she was panting against his lips, trying to force her tongue in between his sharp teeth, and how could he deny her? One of her hands tugged on his hair, while the other was too busy supporting her to join, an issue he fixed by pulling her into the center of his chest. Her technique was rusty, but the longer their kiss held, the more easily she could pull groans from him, her now free hand cupping his jaw for a better angle. What brought him back into reality was the heat that was beginning to gather in his groin, and he wasn’t about to push his luck. Holding her back caused her to whine, but she instead shifted her attention to his neck, peppering it with fluttery kisses, they tickled and he felt her shake as a laugh rumbled through his chest.

“Shouldn’t we talk about this?” He asked, making her huff as she halted her affections to prop herself up on his chest to glare at him sternly.

“That can wait, first you have to deal with the consequences of your actions,” she instructed.

“And what might those be?” He asked, feeling uneasy at the threat in her words. She may return his feelings, but up to now, he had acted so unforgivably.

The evil smirk she attempted to pull off held only a fraction of a second before it softened and she pressed a gentle peck on his forehead, and another just above his brow, then along the side of his face, lips fluttering down till they met the corner of his own. “You just have to stay here while I smother you in my kisses,” she said before she began the cycle of kisses again along the other half of his face. A disbelieving breath of laughter left his gasping lips, it didn’t feel real at all, even as her lips trailed down to his collar and began to leave sloppy open-mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin, he had to be dreaming. His breath hitched as she found a sweet spot and she applied suction, swirling her tongue along what was sure to be a bruised purple later. The distraction that her promise had given him ended as her ministrations caused him to be reminded of a quickly rising issue.

Turning his head away from her he managed to sputter out a plea for her to stop. Reluctantly, she did, looking confusedly at him. “Too much?” She asked, trying to get him to meet her eyes, then more worriedly, “Was that not okay?”

Trying to reign in his breathing and slow his racing heart rate was taking more effort than it should’ve, but he forced himself to look at her, simultaneously appreciating the beauty that hovered above him, and cursing himself for making her think he didn’t want everything she could give. “Too much,” he confirmed, making her relax a tad bit, “It’s just a lot to handle all at once.” Giving him an understanding look she pressed off of him, moving to sit on the bed next to him. Feeling as though that was her taking his words as a cue to leave, he frantically sat up as well, ready to reach for her should she get up from the bed, but his fear of rejection was unfounded as she placed a calming hand just above his knee. Her warm touch grounded him and he forced himself to calm down. Funny as it was, the space she gave allowed him time to process what had happened without the near suffocating amount of feelings being fed into. Probably feeling similarly, she sighed in content, keeping her space, staying mostly quiet, but she never took her hand away from him as he took advantage of the pause in activity to think.

Now knowing his choice to try and save himself from the pain of being around her was one of the least helpful ways to handle his emotions, and that all along she had craved him in the same way, he felt like the biggest fool. Of course, he had noticed some of the more odd things she did around him, like how she seemed to be flustered by his touch, but he had always taken that as her disguising her disgust, not that the addictive warmth that lingered made her just as excited as him. The laugh he worked so hard to hear, the one that ripped snorts and unfeminine seal noises from her, the one that seemed to infect him with an unstoppable need to laugh as well, was music to his ears as his rough throaty chuckles were to hers. All the times he had caught her staring, it wasn’t because she had simply spaced out, nor was it because she was appreciating someone else’s looks, she had been admiring him. The anger and worry he gave her when he took a risk in battle were more than her fretting over him more because she thought he wasn’t strong enough, she chastised him because she couldn’t stand to see him get hurt while protecting her. Within only a few moments of collecting his thoughts and putting things together, it was so obvious now how his self-doubt had clouded his ability to see what was clear as day to everyone around him. She really had been transparent about her feelings this entire time, and he had simply waved them away, trapped in his self-pity.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Whipping her head to look at him, taken aback, she must not have understood what he was apologizing for. He didn’t let her worry a second longer, as he gently held her chin and lifted her lips to meet him for a soft kiss. It wasn’t long, only a few seconds, but this one eased her more than any of the ones before. Pulling away, he was gifted the sight of her eyelids slowly opening, revealing expectant eyes. Kisame hoped that was a common thing he was going to be able to see from now on. “I shouldn’t have run away from you like that, I was just…” He trailed off as he strained to admit the word he knew was right. Shifting closer, her other hand reached for the closest of his, encouraging him to continue. No matter what he said, she wasn’t going anywhere. Still ashamed, he finished, “A coward. Being around you always felt so bittersweet, it felt so good when you laughed at my jokes and fed into my antics, but knowing that I wasn’t worth anything more than someone to pass the time with to you was torture.”

Stupid as he felt confessing to her, she didn’t laugh, just leaned her head into his shoulder, squeezing affectionately his leg. He continued, needing to let her know why he had ever allowed himself to hurt her. “I’ve spent my life being nothing more than a monstrous weapon, even in a group like the Akatsuki, my appearance still stands out, and not in a good way.” Feeling her nuzzle into his arm, her way of showing her disagreement, he felt nothing but warm affection for her, thankful she was a rare outlier from the rest of the world. “Allowing myself to consider that I had a chance with someone as amazing as you hurt more every time I remembered just how much of a freak I am,” he chuckled when he heard her whine in response, but she didn’t interrupt further. “Eventually everything you did just made me upset that you couldn’t feel the same way, and I made up my mind to distance myself.” Getting his built-up feelings off his chest felt rather therapeutic. Having her pressed against him, entwining their hands made all of his pent-up worries ebb away.

“Promise that from now on you’ll talk to me instead of leaving me stressed and confused?” She pleaded when he stayed silent.

Leaning down to indulgently breathe in her scent as he pressed his lips to the top of her head, he promised.

Staying like that for a while, they simply took in everything that had happened in the quiet. At least that was what he was doing until she started giggling to herself. “What’s so funny?” He spoke into her hair, vibrating along with her cute laughter.

“Is that why you were so insistent that I stopped?” She said through her soft laughing. Startled, he pulled away and looked down at his lap, seeing the almost forgotten product of his earlier arousal outlined clearer than normal. Distracted by all the emotional stuff he hadn’t realized how obvious his need had become. Heat washed over his entire body in embarrassment as he sputtered an apology. Still giggling the whole time, his mortification only made her laugh harder. Despite his efforts to escape her hold, she pressed herself close once again, choking out apologies of her own. “It’s alright, I’m probably a mess down there too,” she admitted, making him choke on air, causing her to laugh even harder. The deepening blush that took over his face began to make him sweat, but he tried to relax. Clearly, she wasn’t upset. Recovering from her little giggling fit, she looked up at him shyly smiling. “I don’t think I’m ready for that yet, so I’m glad you stopped me,” she expressed, but with more confidence, she added, “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to eventually.”

Just when he thought his body temperature couldn’t be raised further. He chuckled though, “I wouldn’t mind if you never were, as long as I can hold you,” he swore sincerely, making her snort, “But I look forward to the day when you’d let me take care of the mess I’ve made.” He teased, making her squeal before laughing again, hiding her face against his arm. As cute as her reaction was, his arousal was becoming too distracting. “I should go take care of this though,” He said reluctantly, making her shove away from him, ushering him towards the door.

“Go do that, you know where to find me when you’re done anyway,” she said, using her now free hands to fix her hair. He couldn’t resist reaching back to muss it back up before he left, laughing at her upset whine.

If only he had known of the teasing he would get from his fellow Akatsuki members who had heard the heated conversation loud and clear through the thin walls, he would have stayed and delayed the inevitable. But even though he was relentlessly teased, especially after Hidan noticed the stirring in his pants, at least he had her to look forward to from now on.

#kisame #kisame x reader #kinda heated #not too mature tho #tiniest mention of #itachi #and #hidan #Changed the title cause I hated it

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crazy-sevens · 4 years ago

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Writing Snippet #31

The hero woke up with a start. Even after being knocked out the dreams didn’t give her any release. It was the same one every night. One memory that ruined her life.

The day she got her powers.

It was kind of fitting, considering the fact that the creator of that memory was sitting right in front of her.

“Nightmare?”

The hero took a minute to clear her vision. It was a dark room, cameras in every corner, the villain sitting leisurely on a metal chair. She wondered how long he had been sitting there. And how long she had been out. It had taken nothing short of a small army to take her down. The villain must have been really determined this time, he was usually more subtle than that.

He raised his eyebrows, still waiting for an answer.

She sighed. “Bad memories.”

“I think I would know what you’re talking about.” The villain stood up. “You know it’s nice seeing you like this. You’re finally showing a little bit of gratitude.”

The hero looked down and realized the position she was in. Chained down on her knees. Of course.

“It’s nice knowing I can help you with your ego trips,” the hero said. She tugged on one of the chains and cried out when an electric shock coursed through her.

“Yeah I forgot to mention that would happen.” The villain smiled. “Of course any normal person would have died with that many volts, but you’re anything but normal, aren’t you?”

The hero grit her teeth. “Why am I here?”

The villain shrugged. “Why would I trap a pest in my house?”

The hero scoffed. “Don’t act like you’re going to kill me. You need me, remember?”

“That’s not true,” the villain said. “I need some DNA, maybe a few pints of your blood, but I don’t need you.”

He lingered on the word ‘you’ like it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

She swallowed. “Then why am I still alive?”

The villain crouched down, close enough that the hero could feel his breath on her face. “Because against my better judgement I have decided to give you another chance.”

Here we go.

“Why would you give a pest another chance?”

The villain’s jaw ticked. “Don’t forget who gave you these powers.”

“On accident,” the hero clarified. “And besides, how could I forget? You keep reminding me.”

“And you keep throwing it back in my face,” the villain shot back. He stood and started slowly circling the hero. “Do you want to know what we call you around here?”

“Beautiful and genius come to mind.”

The villain stopped circling. “And you think I’m the one that needs the ego boost.” He shook his head. “You’re a traitor [Hero]. An ungrateful child.”

The hero broke eye contact. “You used me. You wanted me to hurt people.”

“And you were willing to for a while,” the villain said. “I gave you everything.” His eyes darkened and his voice dropped low. She knew him well enough by now to know that when he was angry his voice didn’t rise, it went quieter. “And how did you repay me?” He asked.

“By getting some morals.”

“Morals.” The villain repeated softer. “And what has that gotten you? A life lived in fear. I could give you so much more.”

“I don’t really think I want a collar or a leash, but I’ll get back to you on that.”

The villain’s hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of the hero’s hair. She cried out. “Need I remind you what precarious situation you are in,” he growled. “Despite how confident you are, no, I don’t need you. An autopsy would give me all I need to figure out what happened with you.”

The hero’s jaw clenched.

“And with your powers I’m sure you would stay alive for a long time. Feeling every bit of it. Is that what you want?”

The hero slowly shook her head.

The villain released her hair, throwing her head aside as he did so. “You should be thanking me. You wouldn’t be a hero without my work.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to be a hero.”

The villain’s eyebrows raised slightly, almost imperceptible. He was surprised. But he didn’t say anything. He just examined her with those cold eyes.

She matched his cold stare, all filled with spite. No, she didn’t ask to be this. She didn’t want it. But now that she had it, what was she going to do? Run? Hide? People needed her. And she didn’t care how cliché the notion sounded, she was responsible. He offered her everything, but she knew better.

There is more to life than things.

He smirked. It was almost like he could read her mind. “Maybe you didn’t want to be, but you’ll keep doing it. It’s hard isn’t it?”

The hero didn’t say anything at that.

The villain kept talking. “You’re a simple woman [Hero]. Unmaterialistic. I admire that. Really, I do,” he said. “But what I’m offering isn’t money or status. It’s reassurance. Currently, you run from place to place, nowhere to go, enemies everywhere. When was the last time you saw your family, [Hero]? Wouldn’t you want to see them again?”

Her family.

“You don’t know where they are.” That statement sounded more like a question than she would’ve hoped.

Fortunately, he shook his head. “No. But they could come back. You wouldn’t have to worry about them anymore. Any need of theirs taken care of. No more threats.”

The hero laughed, the shaky thing that it was. “You’re the one that threatened them in the first place.”

“Only because you forced me to. How else could I get you to listen?”

The hero shrugged. “I don’t know. Normal people usually make a phone call. Maybe a candy gram?”

The villain gave a thin lipped smile. “You are so predictable [Hero]. You make jokes when you're scared. I think it’s adorable.”

“Well, do you want to know what I think?” The hero asked. “I think you’re afraid too.”

The villain’s smile dropped. “And what, pray tell, would I have to fear?”

The hero felt like she was stepping on dangerous ground, but she sprinted on anyway. “You’ve always been afraid of what you don’t understand. You don’t understand me. My powers. You don’t understand why I have them while all the others died. Why I’m able to outsmart you at every turn.” The hero smiled, vicious now. “And I know it drives you crazy. The puzzle you could never solve. You’ll do anything to figure it out. No matter how many second chances it takes.” She spat. “Keep your reassurances. I don’t need them.”

In that moment she knew she had taken it too far. The villain’s jaw clenched. He turned to a camera in the room. “Make it twelve.”

The electricity ramped up in the chains. The hero gasped, eyes welling up with tears as pain racked her body.

“Again I offer you everything and you throw it back in my face,” he said. “Your confidence can only get you so far. How could I be afraid of you when all it takes is a phone call to bring you here kneeling at my feet.” He crouched down now, locking dangerous eyes with her. “But you’re right about one thing, [Hero]. I’m curious. I’m curious how a scared teenager like you could survive while all the others couldn’t. And believe me when I tell you this, I will figure it out. And there are two ways I could do it. We could cooperate, maybe manage to make it a comfortable process, and I could give you everything I offer, or you can stay defiant and we can test just how far your endurance can keep you alive.”

He stood up and opened the door. “I’ll give you some time to think it over.”

Through blurred vision the hero watched him leave.

She wasn’t feeling so confident now.

#villain and hero #hero and villain #given powers #the join me and we can be great speech #writing snippet #creative writing #maybe a little scattershot but whatever #not a prompt

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kryptsune · 4 years ago

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World Building Wednesday! ~Felldritch

🌼I got a request to do a WBW for Felldritch and since there have been updates to the overall world and lore I wanted to make sure this was all in a nice little package! If you have questions and want to learn more let me know the ask box is always open! So let's get started! Oh and here is a link to the fic! FELLDRITCH

Felldritch

Classification: HorrorFELL

Cult Alternate “Nicknames”:

Red: Saw Boss: Corvus

Gaster: Sephtis

Asriel: Saber Toriel: Ameria

Asgore: Kirnon

Undyne: Ryx Alphys: Vesh Muffet: Carmilla Grillby: Noire MTT: Faust

Doggo: Croix

Riverperson: Bastet (Tet)

Main Plot Synop: Felldritch takes place after a pacifist run by Frisk. The story briefly goes as follows. Frisk ends up in the Underworld (Underground) and befriends the monsters and wants to set them free. It is basically a way watered down version of WTU in essence. Once reaching the end of her journey the monsters refuse to let her be that final soul. They would rather wait and figure out something else but with her Determination she promises to return to them and set them free. At this point in time she is around 18-19. Asriel sacrifices himself to that end to see her leave through the barrier only for the humans to capture the poor girl after she leaves. They conclude that she is not mentally stable due to her insistence that monsters are real and throw her into an asylum/sanitarium to be “treated”. Nearly 5+ years later and she manages to escape finding herself once again in the Underworld only it is far different from what she remembers. At this point, she is questioning whether anything is real or not. After being “treated” for so long she doesn’t quite know which reality is the true one. As Red (aka Saw) points out:

The Brothers:

Red: The younger brother of the two. His attachment to Frisk stems into more of a relationship though he blames himself for loosing her all those years ago. This psychological state causes him to throw himself into the problem that is befalling their world. At first nothing seems to combat this intrusive forest and horrifying beasts but he learns to utilize his magic in a different way. Prior to this he is what one would think of a a Red type but after meeting Frisk he promises to not only change his heart but also the hearts of others. Instead of destructive magical ability he follows in his brothers footsteps and takes up healing practice.

In the world he is known as the merchant, the one that tends to give out healing items in exchange for coin but the bulk of his business relies on talismans or charms to ward off the evil plaguing their home. As far as they all know these magically infused charms are powerful and have incredible protective capabilities. He runs a wagon that travels around the entire Underworld.

In the current timeline he more sympathetic and empathetic. The concept of Kill or be Killed is no longer a factor. This is mainly about survival and for the most part the other monsters are aware that working together is their best option though their heightened paranoia (validly founded btw) makes it difficult sometimes. His personality is lighthearted on the surface, making jokes, and being a good guy. In a way he reminds me of Jester who tries not to dwell on what is going on but is fully aware of the situation. Red wears a blindfold in public to keep up appearances but he has no vision or eye light problems.

Boss: After Frisk’s departure from the Underworld, Boss, takes her words to heart. Unlike the majority of Fell Pap characterization he is very soft. When he feels his brother no longer needs his guidance he begins to feel purposeless until he learns that like his brother he has the magical ability for healing. As Red is the charm merchant of the two, Boss is the apothecary. His design harkens to plague doctors back in the 17th century. He grows all his own herbs and spices but he is particularly fond of tea. He also wears a blindfold just like Red but unlike Red he does in fact have damage to his left eye socket where the teal color of his eye lights no longer inhabits.

The two combined help their fellow monsters as much as they can but in a world of uncertainty how are you supposed to know who to trust?

Frisk’s Mental Demons: The psychological toll on Frisk is great as she has been told constantly that she made up her time in the Underworld in order to shut herself away into a fantasy world. A world where she had a family… where she is loved and wanted. This happens frequently as the “Doctors” continuously try to refute her experiences or sensations medically. Every time she goes to sleep in the Underworld she ends up back at the Asylum tied down kicking and screaming.

She only wakes up again when she is sedated. Rinse and repeat. The question is… is it real? Or rather which is real. The doctors go on to state that her dark state of mind twisted her original concept behind her “family” making them this eldritch styled horror. He also goes onto explain that the reason she is so drawn and close to Red is that it is her “flirting with death”. That she is accepting that outcome because if she continues to resist treatment she will die and the moment she trusts him in her “fantasy” that will be the end. These kinds of situations happen a lot.

There are also instances when the lines between real and fiction are blurred as Frisk's behavior consists apparently of defensive aggression, auditory, visual, and olfactory hallucination, acute paranoia, anxiety, and PTSD. One such example of this is her apparent psychiatrist, Dr. Cyrus Reycroft, who happens to have an uncanny resemblance to her skeletal friend if he was human.

The Beasts: Felldritch plays off Eldritch horror aka the fear of the unknown. As Frisk reunites with Red she is subjected to a rather concerning conversation in which he explains the situation they are in. He mentions having crossed into an upside down broken and colorless world which drew both himself and his older brother into. It is implied that the two stepped into a dimensional space that was able to then afflict those within their own dimension. Over time the inhabitants begin to go missing and great otherworldly hellish beasts begin appearing. The inhabitants come to the conclusion that these creatures can not afflict you with their corruption if you can not see, hear, or speak in their presence. This mindset has some rather gruesome implications as inhabitants become irrationally desperate mutilating themselves to adhere to the new "See no evil, Speak no evil, Hear no evil”.

The Occult World: The cult as I keep referring to it as is a group of powerful monsters. After the deposition of the King the other monsters begin to become influenced by outside sources. They begin to believe that any fallen humans are the angels of death and because of this they will kill humans on sight, of course, they want to live in denial of their horrible deeds because monster souls are supposed to be made up of love and kindness. Unlike the cult that wishes to break the barrier, the rest want to stay hidden from the beasts above believing that the humans are to blame for all that has happened.

The senses play a huge roll in this idea as the beasts are rumored to be able to use souls like puppets, as in spys, if they are corrupted. It essentially becomes like a hive mind with the main entity being able to see, hear, and speak through those it comes in contact with. It’s no secret that Red is in fact infected by this entity in some form as this is a quote from the fic:

A set of antlers snagged the velvety cape as he worked the metalwork to release its hold on the material around his throat.

Bony fingers tugged on the bunched up fabric and pulled it back, revealing a charcoal grey sweater underneath. It was soft to the touch but just hidden beneath the wool she caught a glimpse of off white colored bone. There were bits and pieces that had been chipped off, knicks, and cuts. Even before they had met Red had some scars especially around his collarbone but that was not what caused her to gasp. His hood remained over his head as if using it to shield his expression from her view, “See?” He flinched when her fingers traced some of the scars.

She didn’t want to appear like she was fearful of what she was witnessing but her fingers quivered, pulling them back toward herself. A soft whimper of a voice left her, “R...Red…” There intertwined with the magically composed vertebrae of his spine were branches. The same deep blackish red wood that plagued this entire forest. It wove itself through the bone engulfing portions of his ribs, twisting it into chilling patterns. If it was allowed to continue its infestation it would crack his ribcage open in a bloodless gaping fissure. She could just make out that gentle white and crimson glow shrouded by the wood. Was that his soul? There was no other explanation.

It looked like the branches were trying to worm their way toward that glowing heart, pierce it, and absorb it into its oily black, almost pulsating bark. That was only one singular aspect of horror that she was now subjected to. Her eyes followed the trail that crept through the bone following the knots and twists that crept up and underneath where his skull attached to his spine.

The grip that he kept on her hand only tightened while the other shifted to pull the hood off his skull. Her eyes widened, reddish-brown irises wavering within a sea of white. A hand rose to land on her mouth, now agape in a silent gasp. She could see the same strange bark that comprised his antlers exited straight out of his skull. There were fractures that radiated from above the temporal portion of his cranium in concentric circles. The same kind of patterning one would see from blunt force trauma. Only this had pushed out the bone externally rather than internally. His sockets no longer contained those ever dulling carmine eye lights as her own eyes traced the hairline cracks along his head. She could not imagine the kind of pain a transformation like that would have caused him. There were places where the bone had tried to heal and suture itself back together, forming around the bark.

Angel of Salvation (a.k.a. The Eldritch Horror)- What the cult has been working toward is summoning their “savior” with the help of the human souls they are bound to. It gives them extra abilities and power. Each within the ranks is bound to a human soul. Their leader ??? wants to use this power to summon an “angel.” It turns out that is actually an unholy amalgamated eldritch beast/god out for blood instead. Humanity will perish and the monsters will take control of the surface once more. That is the reality. (The cult including Red is told otherwise).

#undertale #sans #underfell #papyrus #Felldritch #undertale au #underfell au #kits multiverse #friskys multiverse #concepts #my au #psychological horror #eldritch horror #eldritch #Saw #Corvus #cult aesthetic #Worldbuilding Wednesday AU edition

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