#they killed each other?? many times??? and yet they wound up in love???

[missadangel]

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x Ofc!Princess Reader)

All Chapters List

I. Heal the Heart 

Odi et amo. Quare id faciam, nescio. Sed fieri sentior et excrucior.  I love you and I hate you.  Why I do this, I have no idea.  But I feel it happening and I’m in agony. [Catullus]

Following the conquest of Egypt and its incorporation into the Roman Empire, there was a growing interest in its ancient culture. Over time, many in Egypt began to express a desire for greater autonomy and control over their own affairs. Dissatisfaction with Roman control over Egypt became part of the Egyptian psyche.

This is precisely why, immediately after the death of Emperor Septimius Severus, preparations for revolt began in Egypt. His emperor sons Caracella and Geta were already doing little else but quarreling with each other, drinking and having fun, watch gladiators  fighting and feeling proud of themselves. Even when they were informed that their subjects in Egypt had revolted, they continued to do what they were doing. They didn't care about anything but themselves and their daily activities.

The Egyptians were aware of this, of course, they knew they could not be a strong soldier like their emperor father. They were quite sure that the day would come when they, with the help of the Greeks, would put the Roman governors in Egypt to the sword. After all, they had been making preparations since the death of Severus. There were Jews among them too, all of them insistent on establishing the sovereignty of ancient Egypt, but there was one thing they did not consider or pay much attention to.

General Marcus Acacius.

They say, you can feel the ground shake when he walks on it. He makes his opponents feel certain of their own death at the very moment he draws his sword. A daring commander with  few who could stand up to him. It is unclear whether this is an exaggeration or not, but it is still rumored that he cut a lion in half in the Colosseum.

A beast in every sense of the word.

More than that, he is a leader who manages his legions very well and spur them on to achieve success during the war, a man who has not yet tasted a failure, well-earned the title of general in every way.

Since it was obvious that no one else could succeed in suppressing the rebellion, he was immediately sent to the region with the intervention of his Empresss Julia Domna, the mother of the two emperors.

Just like she guessed, he had succeeded in putting down the rebellion, of course, no doubt, as soon as his name rang through, the rebels, along with all the inhabitants of Egypt, have knew that they already defeated.

Some were forced to surrender, those who resisted and fled were found and killed by the Roman soldiers, but not all. The general didn't kill the surrendered ones, he took them as captives which was pretty fair for a beast. In contrast to him, the ones who fled were not, they were so desperate that they didn't know what to do and they started attacking everything and everywhere like rabid dogs.

They even attempted to violate the laws of war and mapped out a plan to kill the General and his soldiers, and even all the medics, in the night at their camps. It was a suicide mission, but they were on the verge of success.

'Has anyone seen the General? He's not in his tent!' A burly soldier strode in, holding his sword which was covered in the blood of the rebel he had just killed. He looked through all the tents one by one, moving quickly and with a concerned look on his face.

The clinking of swords echoed in the darkness as the soldiers cut down the last remaining rebels to death with their swords.

Soon, the soldier ran to his General, relieved to see him, but he was wounded in the abdomen moments ago. As he gently pressed his hand to his injury, a small amount of blood emerged, shining like rubies under the moonlight as it dripped from between his strong fingers onto the grass. His attackers were no longer alive, they were all lying on the ground, were literally cut to ribbons. They attacked him in his sleep when he was wearing nothing but his tunic, catching him off guard. He nodded to the soldier, demanding assistance as his white tunic transformed into a crimson hue. He had been wounded many times before, countless times, but this was nothing like before and was undoubtedly the worst injury he had ever sustained. ‘I think, I… got…,’ he groaned, it hurt much even when he speaks, feeling like beneath the wound his blood was boiling. ‘…poisoned.’ These were the last words spilled from his lips before his enormous body slumping to his knees, collapse altogether to the ground.

The woman with waist-length with black hair was dragging you along with her as she walking across the meadow, you were struggled, couldn’t control your feet, as if the ground was sliding under. She had her hands outstretched at her sides, even though her back was turned, it was not difficult to see her smile by the sunlight reflecting the curve of her chin. She abruptly ceased her movement and bent down to gather a few herbs in a meadow. She plucked them, gathered them in her palms, and kissed them. You heard the whispers between her lips and the harmony of the wind rippling through your ears. It was clear that she was blessing these herbs. When she turned to you, you staggered backwards, hypnotized by her face, so beautiful, mesmerizing, her eyes hypnotizing yours, it was impossible to look away, no escape from them.

Perhaps even more surprising than anything else was that her face and eyes were identical to yours. It really was truly astonishing. She handed you the plants like they were rare jewelry. You could see her arms shone in the sun, and her skin looked like fine marble. It was impossible to believe that it could be human skin; it must have been that of a goddess, but why did her face resemble yours?

'Heal the heart, child,' her voice sang through the meadow like a gentle breeze. You couldn't move your lips, but she heard you anyway.

‘Heart?’

A warm wind blew, and the silhouette of the woman came closer, startling you. Her hazel eyes were turning green under the sun. As she slightly opens her lips, you locked your eyes on them and waited eagerly for the answer.

‘The heart of Rome,’ almost whispers, ‘Serve it,’ a little loud now like commanding, ‘Heal it...’ again whispers then gently puts the herbs on your hand.

A strong wind blew, and the silhouette of the woman danced with the wind. The sunny sky burst into a starry night as the wind embraced the silhouette and rose to the sky, to the stars. You felt the ground under your feet, but your eyes were drawn to the enchanting sky.

As the wind finally gave way to the silent night, you looked at the herbs you were holding in your hand. These kind of herbs you were used to seeing almost every day, but what you were not used to seeing was that they were sparkling like diamonds between your fingers. It was as if you could feel their healing power on your skin.

Abruptly, you heard the voice again, echoing across the meadow. Your ears were once more caressed, blessed, but this time, the words were different.

‘Cure him…’

You barely heard your name being called and your body was shaking, slowly opened your eyes, you saw a familiar but worried face.

‘Wake up, please, you need to get up now,’ the concern in the man's voice brought you back to reality, the effect of the dream disappearing like a cloud of dust between the stone walls and dissipating into the air.

‘Uncle?’

You had rarely seen this face of your uncle who had taken you in when you were an orphan, who cared for you, protected you and raised you well more than any other father or mother ever would.

You sat up from the firm mattress you were lying on, ‘I thought we were travelling tomorrow night?’

‘No, no, that's not why I woke you up,’ he put your big dark cloak over your head. ‘You need to hide.’

You were startled to hear shouting and footsteps coming from outside the wooden door of the room. This was not the sort of noise you would normally expect to hear in this Valetudinarium (hospital, clinic) at this late hour. 

‘What is going on?’ You rub your eyes with your fingers, trying to figure out the situation.

Your uncle tucked your hair deeper into your cloak.

'The Roman soldiers are gathering all the medici (psychians). I have to go with them.'

'Roman soldiers? I thought they left after they put down the rebellion, and slaughtered thousands. Besides, they already have medici with them why they-?'

He grabbed you by the shoulders, his anxiety evident.

'Some rebels with indigestion murdered all the medici in their tents, and then-'

A soldier's voice was heard from one of the nearby rooms. You both turned your heads in that direction, startled, and then looked at each other again.

'General, they targeted him. They attacked him in his sleep. He got them, but he got poisoned. They want me to save him.'

‘Poisoned? But Uncle, he might already be dead, if you won’t be able to cure him they'll blame you or punish you and-’

‘Don’t think about it now, go and hide, as a woman you are not allowed to be here remember? You have to hide and wait for my return.’

The soldiers' voices were heard very close by.

‘No, I'll come with you, if it's aspis (venomous snake in Nile region) venom we'll use the same techniques as before, like we did with the boy last time, it would take too long to make an antivenom on your own, let me help you.’

‘It's too dangerous for you my dearest, to go among the soldiers, even if you wear these men clothes, we can't hide the beauty of your face, dear.’

You strode over to the cauldron in the fireplace and ran your hands over the soot that had accumulated underneath it.

‘It worked before,’ you said, rubbing a little soot on your cheeks.

‘Only at the market. This time it's more dangerous. I'd never forgive myself if I couldn't protect you there.’

‘Don't worry. I'll be back here as soon as we've finished with the antivenom. I know all the paths and shortcuts very well now.’

Suddenly a soldier burst in, kicking the door angrily, you shuddered.

‘You two! Get out, now! We don't have time!

‘We're making sure to collect all medical supplies, sir,’ he turned to you. ‘Come on, boy, don't dawdle!’

You nodded without looking at soldier, grabbed all medicine bottles.

‘You'd better hurry!’

As soon as the soldier left the room, your uncle moved swiftly to the corner and opened the small wooden chest. He took out a cream-coloured envelope of slightly worn paper, sealed with a wax seal bearing the emblem of Septimius Severus.

'This is…'

'I was going to give this to you tomorrow as I promised last time, but there's no time now. If anything happens to me, you will open it. Everything about your true family is in here.'

You took the envelope from him with shaking hands. The previous emperor himself had sealed it. You wondered what it meant.

Your uncle grabbed your shoulders and shook you, making sure you understood how important this letter was.

‘No one should ever see this. Do you understand me? No one! After you open it, hide it. Do not let anyone see it. But don't lose it, hide it like your life depends on it, you'll understand why.’

You nodded firmly and swallowed hard. You tucked the letter into the bag hanging around your neck and hid it at the very bottom under the medicine bottles, making them rattle in the process.

‘Aya, you’re going to have to choose,’ he looked at you before leaving the room.

‘Choose what uncle?’

‘To run or stay. It’ll make sense when you read the letter,’ he checked the hall and grabbed your wrist. You were so confused but you had to think about this later.

'We have to get out now, soldiers are outside, quick!'

The soldiers had gathered all the medici they could find in the army headquarters, near the tents. There were seven of them yet were unable to find a solution to the General's injury. When it was only you and your uncle who were next, a burly soldier, who was of a higher rank than the others, approached you two. You kept your head down, avoiding eye contact. Everyone was in a rush, with almost all of them mobilized to save the general's life. Your gender didn't matter to them, for now. As you were about to follow your uncle into the tent, the soldier stopped you by raising his hand.

‘Only the medicus.’

‘My aide, sir, let him in. He's as expert as I am.’

As your uncle is their last hope, he let you in, but did not follow you inside, stands guard outside the tent. The General's squire was standing right next to him, he looked at you with tears in his eyes. It was a heartbreaking sight. The sorrow had taken possession of everything inside the tent, and you could feel it right down to your bones.

The General was lying on a mattress in the west corner of the tent. He was unconscious, but you noticed that his lips were moving, like murmuring. You moved forward to look closer to see his face, which you had been so curious about.

His face was exactly as you had imagined, and yet not. He had many scars, as if he had been born with them, his light brown skin embracing them. His moustache and beard were partially grey, his nose and chin perfectly shaped, as if the Prometheus had spent more time shaping this man. His face was stunning, and it made your heart beat fast. You had never felt this way about any other man, well you never had an opportunity to do though.

You were somewhat disappointed to see his eyes closed. You were curious about what they might look like, and you were eager to see what he would look like when he opened them. When you found yourself wanting to touch his face, you were a little surprised. For a moment, you forgot why you were there. Your uncle had already picked up the sword with which General had been wounded and was examining the blood on it. You went over to help him, keeping one eye on the general, lying there with his imposing body and half of the white tunic he wore dyed red.

Your heart constricted with pain, and the dream you had came vividly to mind.

‘Cure him.’

‘We need to check his wound!’ You were startled by your uncle's loud voice, squinting at you, you felt ashamed.

As your uncle beckoned, you approached him, seeing the wound was not deep but the skin around the cut starting to get pale from the venom and the edges curling inwards.

‘He doesn't have much time, let's start making the antivenom now,’ he swallowed, the wound was really getting worse, you had to cure him no matter what.

Maybe, you thought, this is why the Gods showed you this in your dream, they warned you in advance that your life depends on it.

The process of making the antivenom took slightly longer than anticipated, but you persevered admirably. Your uncle cleaned the wound to neutralize it while you were perspiring from the fabric of your clothes. Once the antivenom was finally administered, your uncle applied the antidote carefully to the wound but he was exhausted, fingers are shaking so you helped him even you were feeling so tired too. Your eyelids were almost closed but you managed to complete your duty perfectly.

The soldier from earlier came into the tent to check the process, you bowed your head, and stepped back.

'We've cleaned the wound, once its neutralized, applied the antidote. We just need to wait now,' your uncle informed him, wiping sweat off his forehead. 'We need to give him some time, and make sure he drinks water soon to avoid dehydration.’

As the solider checking the wound you turned your head to look at the squire boy who was sobbing just ago, already fallen asleep. Poor boy, you thought.

The soldier ordered you to leave the tent and wait outside.

You felt your arms and legs go numb with fatigue and collapsed to the ground, sat cross-legged, trying hard to stay awake. Your uncle was same but he still struggled to sleep. In the end, he couldn't control his eyelids.

You woke up to the sound of the soldiers shouting and arguing. You turned your head, couldn't make out what they were disagreeing about, but they were making a lot of noise.

'You better go in and make sure the General drinks some water. He needs to stay hydrated,' your uncle said in firmly, watching the soldiers probably keep an eye on them.

The tent was empty except for the General. The soldier from earlier was outside, reassuring the other soldiers. You approached to check him. His forehead was covered in sweat, his body was fighting with venom. You quickly grabbed a damp cloth and pressed it gently on his forehead. Then you touched his lips with your thin, fragile fingers. You felt something intense growing inside you. As a secret medicus, you have touched the face and other parts of the body of many men and women to cure them. However, touching this man's face and lips was never like touching others.

You took a deep breath to pull yourself together. This was nonsense.

You made his lips crack open and dipped a rag into the fresh water in the copper pot. You pressed it against the general's rather dry, pale lips, squeezing it through his mouth.

After repeatedly doing this, you decided you had enough. Just before you withdrew your hand, the general's strong hand grabbed yours with a firm grip. You were surprised and moaned in pain, opened your hand with pressure, and the rag fell to the ground.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you looked at his face. He opened those eyes you had been so curious about and looked at you with a cold, calculating gaze, squeezing your wrist so tightly you felt it would break in a minute. You stifled a scream and moaned in pain, 'Sir, I'm here for help.' You sounded almost as if you were crying, and suddenly he moaned in pain as well, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, the effort drained him. His chest rose and fell rapidly as his breathing quickened.

When he finally released your wrist, you threw yourself backwards for dear life, rubbed your wrist with your other hand and stroked it, praying to the Gods to take the pain away. You could have sworn to Jupiter that if he had squeezed your wrist any harder, you would have heard a cracking sound coming from your bones.

How could he possibly be so strong even when exhausted, so close to death?

As the pain receded, you took a deep breath and forced yourself to calm down. Your thin wrist was painted the red like poppies, as if the shadows of his fingers were engraved on your skin.

You glanced timidly over your shoulder, he was still lying with his eyes closed, but you had just made a terrible mistake, he heard your voice, must have noticed you were a woman, and only the Gods knew what he would do when he came to his senses.

You had to leave immediately, wrapping your wrist in a clean piece of cloth and tucking the sleeve of your dress into it so that the bandage wouldn't be visible. When you came out of the tent, your uncle grabbed your arm and pulled you behind the tent.

‘Uncle, the General seemed to opened his eyes for a moment and heard my voice, he might remember when he awakens,' you said in a whisper, hoping no one have heard you.

‘Gods have mercy upon us,’ he glanced down, murmuring, then grabbed you by shoulders. “Time to go, you need to leave now. Go by following the path through the woods. Soldiers having a disagreement about something, I think they found out-‘

‘You, medicus, come here,’ one of the soldiers shouted at your uncle.

Your uncle gestured to you with his eyes, saying ‘go now’,

'You too!' you gasped as you realised the soldier waving his hand at you.

'Sir, he should stay with the General...' your uncle stepped in front of you to protect you.

'I said come, both of you, now,' he wasn’t asking, it was a firm order.

As you took tentative steps towards the place where the other soldiers were forming a circle beside your uncle, your heart began to beat as if it were going to burst. These were the soldiers who had just fought, and you wondered if they hurt each other, but you could not see anyone hurt or wounded.

On the contrary, they looked at you curiously, only at you.

‘That's nonsense, Dimitrus, this boy can't be a girl,' said one soldier pointing you with a small knife in his hand.

Your uncle was standing next to you, his fear having come true, his face taut with worry.

As the soldier, who you guessed was named Dimitrus, approached you, your uncle took a step in front of him, but the soldier easily overpowered him and pushed him aside. The soldier looked at your body from top to bottom. You bowed your head and clenched your fists. Your heart pounded in your chest as your breathing quickened. He yanked down your hood of your cloak with his big hands, other soldiers came nearby for a better look.

Your hair was tied up at the back of your head, and the soldier's grin widened when he noticed. He drew his dagger from its holster, and when you saw your uncle's worried face behind the soldier's formidable arm, you began to pray to all the Gods.

He grabbed your bun with his hand and cut the hairband with his dagger, your golden-brown wavy hair falling over your shoulders. The soldiers laughed and whistled. Dimitrus looked at them with a cocky smile and turned back to you.

‘Such a long hair for a aide boy, eh?’

'A girl, indeed,' said one soldier, looking at you with disbelief.

‘I told you I could smell a woman a mile away,’ he laughed, his voice booming.

'Please,' you demanded, feeling unable to do anything else. A feeling of despair took control of your whole body.

‘What is going on here?’ The burly soldier approached and noticed your new look, looking at you in astonishment. Dimitrus grabbed you by the hair and pulled you towards him. He then grabbed your chin and turned your face to Octavius.

'Look at her. You don't even know that the medicus brought a girl with him, Octavius?' And you're the general's right-hand man!’

You struggled to move your body, but he was so strong.

‘Hey, I can't see her face clearly!'

You closed your eyes tightly as someone threw wine on your face. Dimitrus wiped your face with his big fingers, rubbing roughly.

'Gods, no ordinary beauty,' looking at you like a hungry wolf, then smells your hair making you feel nauseous.

You tried to look away, but your eyes met your uncle's desperate gaze.

‘That's enough, Dimitrus, let her go, is this what you all thinking while our General lies there like that?’

You rushed to your uncle's side as his hands released your hair.

‘He's already dead, I've never seen anyone get up after being poisoned,’ he says as if he was looking forward to his death.

Octavius drew his sword with a schwing. ‘How dare you! Say that again and I'll cut your tongue off!’ he growled.

Dimitrus' followers drew their swords as well. Octavius looked at each of them with anger and disbelief. He has been betrayed.

‘You filthy rats! I'll kill you one by one!’ He waved his long sword at them.

Dimitrus grabbed your uncle by the collar, 'Start with this one. Who knows what he gave the General instead of medicine?'

‘Yes, he must be punished!’

'Punish him, Octavius!'

They were all yelling at him by raising their swords, you were thinking a way out but there wasn’t any.

‘If you won't, I will,' Dimitrus pointed his swords end at your uncle.

‘No!' you cried but your uncle stopping you with his hand.

Then, as Octavius raised his hand and was about to lunge at him, Dimitrus plunged his sword through your uncle's stomach, the poor man groaning in pain and falling to his knees, and as you ran towards him, he drew back his sword, his blood splashing in your face with the force of the draw. Your body began to shake and you felt paralysed as you watched his lifeless body fall to the ground.

'Dimitrus!' Octavius roared, ‘You've gone too far! What do you think our general will do to you when he awakens?’

You collapsed to your knees in shock, your body rigid and still, your face expressionless yet tears streaming down your cheeks.

'General? You failed to save him, you let that medicus get into his tent, you must share his fate! I will tell the emperors that this is your fault! And I think we should put the general out of his misery-'

Suddenly, an axe emerged from nowhere and plunged into Dimitrus' chest deeply. His body reeled back, shaking, then fell to the ground lying backwards, dying in a pool of blood as everyone looked at him in astonishment and panic. Blood gushed from where his chest had been split open, and when he stopped breathing, laying there as his eyes remained wide open.

They turned their head to see who had thrown the axe and they were shocked once again.

The general could barely stands near his tent, his eyes filled with rage, his gaze blazing with fury. Octavius ran to his side quickly.

'General! Thank Gods you're finally awake!’

'What's going on here, Octavius?' his voice was like a roar.

‘Sir, Dimitrus and others have attempted to mutiny.’

Acacius gave the other soldiers a deathly stare and they immediately kneeled down with their swords upside down.

'No, sir, we did not.’

'Forgive me, sir, it was Dimitrus doing.’

'Sir, please forgive me.’

You closed your uncle's eyelids with your fingers as they all begged for forgiveness. Your back was turned to the General, you didn't care if you live or die, you didn’t care about anything. You felt your whole life was already over.

'If any of you ever dare to do anything like this again,' he walked near Dimitrus’ body and pulled the axe from his chest roughly, you startled by the crunching sound coming from his bones.

'I Marcus Acacius, will make sure that he meets the same fate as this scum!'

He put them all in their place, they all nodded in fear and stood up with his gesture, bowing their heads though couldn't look him in the face.

'Now get ready, we must sail at dawn!'

‘Yes sir!’

All of them sheathing their swords, spreading around in rush.

Acacius staggered a little as they gone at his sight, his wound still hurting but he tried hard not to show them.

Octavius touched his arm, 'Sir, the Gods have spared your life but please rest a little longer.’

'Who is this man?’

You were certain he was talking about your uncle, even though your back was turned to him.

'The medicus who cured you, sir, Dimitrus got mad and killed him because he thought he couldn't save you.'

'As if we haven't lost enough medici tonight. He was wrong obviously. This man managed to cure me. I'm standing thanks to him,' he turned his head to Octavius. 'Make sure this man's body reaches his family. Let the governor know about this. They should fulfil all ritual arrangements.'

Octavius nodded, "Yes sir, I will."

Then both turned their gaze to you. 'What about this one?'

Your body was petrified, you felt the time of execution has come, you’ve never expected the last moments of your life to be like this.

‘I think this was his aide or slave sir, Dimitrus found out she was a woman, that medicus was hiding her, sir,’ he bowed his head in shame, you swallowed.

Acacius' pain returned, he groaned in pain, Octavius grabs his waist gently, "Sir, please rest, you need to get your strength back.’

'Sir!' Acacius' squire came and put his arm under his.

It was time for him to turn his back to you.

‘Since her master has died, take this girl to the other slaves, I don't want any more chaos or mishap,’ he said in a firm voice.

You wiped tears from your eyes with the back of your hand as their footsteps faded away. Two soldiers came and grabbed your arms, lifted you off the ground while the others carrying your uncle’s body. When you turned your head, glancing over your shoulder, saw the General's curly grey hairs and his well-shaped nose before he went into his tent.

Your body was filled with rage.

What you heard was only a heightening of your pain and a deepening of your hurt.

A slave? How could he say that? The one who cured him was now worthy of being a slave?

As the mid-morning sun began to reflect on the walls of Rome through the haze that filled the

harbour, the capital was preparing to experience one of the most active days in its history. Everyone who noticed the navy ships approaching the harbour from afar, citizens, subjects, foreign mission chiefs, tradesmen, civil servants, porters, all filled the entrance of the city. They were waiting to welcome General Marcus Acacius and the glorious Roman soldiers. On the deck of the large ship at the forefront of the fleet, the General sighs deeply as he looks out over his city, thanking Mars for his triumphant and healthy return.

It ten days to get from the port of Alexandria to Rome, a very difficult experience for you, travelling with captives called slaves. Most of them were Greeks and Egyptians, and the fact that the streets of the Roman capital were filled with shouts of joy was of no interest to them. On board the ship they were constantly told that the slave market in the capital was a very prestigious place, that the young girls would be well brought up by certain families, that they should stop crying, that they should pray to Jupiter to make the wealthy families could like them and buy them with high prices.

But you were not like those slaves, you were not a prisoner of war, nor was your family enslaved or poor. Your uncle was a renowned and esteemed medicus. He was a member of an affluent family. He and his wife found you on the banks of the River Nile when you were three years old. That is what they told you. The gods had not blessed them with a child, so they loved you as much as their own. You knew he wasn't your real father or uncle, but you were very happy with your life and didn't ask too many questions until he told you about that letter the night before the night that ruined your life.

As an orphan, you were brought up well by your uncle, learning all about Egyptian medicine, performing countless surgeries at his side, bringing many people back to life -including the general himself- and learning enough to become an expert. But, no one could call you as medicus because you were a woman, yet your talents were too great to be ignored. No matter who you told on this ship, no one would believe you, and even if they did, there was nothing they could do about it.

As you looked out through the small cracks between the planks of the ship, your eyes travelled over the seemingly endless sea. You couldn't stop thinking about the dream you had that night.

‘Cure him.’

Wouldn't it have been better if you haven't cure him? Perhaps your uncle would still be alive. Maybe you wouldn't be sitting on this ship now, resigned to your fate, wondering, worrying what will happen to you. Is this your reward for healing the great Roman general?

That man ruined your life, and you only did yourself a disservice by saving him.

Perhaps the gods were testing you, but what was the lesson?

You looked at the shadow of the General's fingers under the piece of cloth you had wrapped around your wrist. The color was that of violets caressed by moonlight days ago. Now, it is unmistakably that color, doesn’t hurt much anymore.

As the ship rumbled into port, you realized that it was time to accept your fate. In the dark and damp bilge of the ship, you and a girl close to your age called Decima took turns using the same swing as a bed, you liked each other very much and in desperation you became confidants. She was in her early twenties, beautiful yet you were in your late twenties, ahead of her in beauty. Her father was a rebel, probably killed by the General's men, and she was taken as captive. You told her almost everything except the letter that you’re hiding in your bag.

As soon as you stepped into the harbour, the discrimination began, the general and his men moved in the other direction, while the trader man of slaves were standing in front of you ordered you to move somewhere else.

You frowned as you saw his face in the distance over the shoulders of the people in the crowd, he looked very healthy, his body had managed to overcome the venom of the past few days and his wound has healed. You remembered how you had spent hours with your uncle trying to cure him, how you had struggled for hours to make the antidote while your arms and wrists ached with pain.

The General's face lit up with a warm smile as he waved his hand at his citizens, you were surprised to find that all your anger has vanished for a moment.

You turned your head away, looking at him would only cause you pain. He didn't look at you because he hasn't seen your face yet -well not clearly-, furthermore, you’ve never met face to face, to him you’re just a slave nothing more. Octavius however, recognised you from a distance. He was the only one who has witnessed your hard work. He was an honorable men, didn’t like to see you among the slaves, yet he has nothing to do, it was his General's order.

In the evening of that day, after the slaves were taken to the baths and then to the slave market for sale, you and Decima were taken by the slaver man to a separate cell. From outside, one could hear the sounds of a lively market, where slaves were being sold one by one. There was a great deal of interest in these new slaves from Egypt.

Slaver man appeared at the door of your cell in the market with a man over your age looks wealthy. Decima immediately stood up, but you did not. The slaver gestured with his hand, turning Decima around in the center and showing her arms, face and feet, squinting at you meanwhile.

‘Look at these strong and beautiful young girls, sir, I wouldn’t show you any poor slaves, they are both virgins, and they are very beautiful, the great Venus has bestowed her beauty on these girls. They would fetch a lot of money if they went to the market, but I thought I would show them to you first sire.’ He was blandishing much, but the man's eyes were locked on you.

‘Doesn't she have any manners? Why doesn't she stand up?’

‘You're right sir, she must be a bit sick from travelling, she will,’ he gestured to you with his hand, ‘Come on, get up, girl.’

You rolled your eyes and got up, he squeezed your arm hard to warn you first, then did everything what he had done to Decima, opening almost every part of your body for the other man to see. It was incredibly disgusting, you felt like an animal being sold at the cattle market.

‘The other one is younger, but this one is so beautiful, a rare one,’ he said, grabbed you by arm, looking at you hungrily. ‘How much do you want for this one?’

Your eyes meet with Decima in a silent exchange, as it was time to go your separate ways.

‘Eight thousand sesterces, sire.’

He pursed his lips, thinking, his fingers touching your hair mean while you were closing your eyes, praying for a miracle.

‘Ten thousand sesterces!’

A familiar voice of a man echoed through stone walls. You all turned your heads to that direction.

‘General Marcus Acacius offers ten thousand sesterces for this girl!’ Octavius’ imposing body appeared, he came towards them with his armor making a sharp noise with every step. He threw a big coin pouch to the slaver, who caught it with a big smile on his face.

‘Sold, of course,’ he was counting the coins with happy face.

Then Octavius firmly grabbed the other man's arm that was still touching you, lifted it, and pushed it away. He frowned.

‘This girl belongs to General Acacius now, sir, you must not touch her,’ he warned him gently but firmly.

As the general entered the city in his chariot, the people shouted his name. He waved his hand to them, and the streets were filled with a great enthusiasm as everyone gathered to honour the general and his soldiers. The chariot carrying him soon passed under the triumphal arch of Septimius Severus and turned towards the Curia Julia, the Senate building, where the emperors must have been waiting for him. The general's smile faded. He was tired and not looking forward to seeing them, but he would not go to his villa before visiting the emperors.

As General strode purposefully up the marble stairs, Geta and Caracella leapt down from their golden imperial thrones in excitement. As soon as Geta saw him, he opened his arms wide.

‘How can I reward Rome's greatest general?'

'By letting him catch his breath first,' Caracella smiled widely.

Acacius stopped in front of them and nodded, 'Emperors.'

'We have been eagerly awaiting for your arrival, general,' Geta clasped his hands together, looking at him with admiration.

'Speak for yourself, brother. My legs ache from sitting for so long,' Caracella said, then laughed loudly. 'But it was worth it, indeed!'

‘Indeed!’ They both laughed once more, but Caracella looking at his brother a bit strange way.

It was hard to tell if Caracella wanted to embrace Geta or if wanted to take his life right then and there. The relationship between the two of them was quite distorted.

The general rolled his eyes, he was used to these two whiny emperors half of his age bickering at each other all the time, he sighed in frustration at having to put up with them when he could easily take both their lives with a single stroke of his sword. Unfortunately, this unpleasant situation had only just begun.

‘We heard that you were poisoned, how did it feel?’ Geta looked at him with wide eyes and smile.

The news must have reached the emperors before the general had even boarded the ship.

'Painful, your highness,' Acacius stated, a shadow passing over his brown eyes as he remembered the pain again.

'I'm sure it was, it must have been an interesting experience.’ Caracella crossed his arms; smiling just like his brother.

‘Cobra or viper?’

‘Aspis, highness, the viper type.’

‘Oh, I won!’ Geta jumped for joy and gestured to Caracella with his hand, imitating a snake.

Caracella ignored him looking at the General.

‘The rebels must have quite a sense of humour, poisoning a Roman General carrying Medusa on his chest with a snake, quite ironic,’ he touched Medusa on General's armor with his index finger.

Acacius frowned while looking at him, ‘They certainly do, they murdered all our medici mercilessly, fortunately the great Asclepius sent his help, my men brought another medicus from city was able to cure me, it is thanks to him that I can stand here in front of you, highness,’ Acacius remembered the memory when he was unsure whether it was a dream or not but he could not get out of his mind the fingers that touched his lips, the owner of those hazel eyes that came to his aid when his throat was dry from thirst. But it couldn't be medicus he thought, it had to be someone with thin fingers, someone with beautiful eyes he had never seen before. Maybe, since he was too close to death, it was a dream or a goddess has appeared to him, he couldn't be sure.

The first thing he remembers is opening his eyes and grabbing her wrist with his survival instinct. He thought it was a strange looking young man in a hood, maybe another rebel had come to kill him again, but then he heard her voice and thought his goddess had come to heal him. He was in so much pain and seeing hallucinations that he couldn't tell if it was a dream or not. But couldn’t get rid of those thoughts since days.

The emperors didn't seem to care much about the medicis the general was talking about, or how he had recovered, and Acacius seemed bored as they continued to joke with each other.

‘Mother,' Geta ran to her as he noticed the Empress approaching, extends his arm for her.

Julia Domna took his arm as she coming towards Acacius, whispering something into Geta’s ear, without taking her eyes off the General.

‘My lady,’ Acacius nodded to her.

Domna's smile was like Caracella's, you could never guess what she was thinking.

‘General, how good it is to see you return triumphant once more. Rome salutes you, and I embrace you,’ she approached him with open arms and put her hands Acacius’ board shoulders.

Caracella sat back on his throne, a bored look on his face.

‘My Lady, the honour is mine,’ the general said, bowing his head.

‘We shall sacrifice 1000 bulls to honor our triumphant mother!’ Geta clapped his hands excitedly, ‘Let's have a great feast tonight!’

‘Highness, let's give the General some time to rest, he must be tired from the battle,’ Domna removed her hands from the General's shoulders but kept her eyes on him.

Caracella let out a high, shrill laugh that echoed through the white marble columns. Geta sat on his throne and scowled.

‘Marcus, walk with me,’ the Empress turned round, gestured to him.

Acacius sighed, he didn't want to be alone with her, but he had to. Domna walked ahead of him, hands clasped behind her back, he followed her slowly.

‘My sons are glad to see you again, even if they have no idea how fortunate they are to have you serving them.’

'It is my duty to serve Rome.’

She paused and smiled, watching the water in the pool shimmer in the sunlight, the glow reflecting off her bright skin, her expression was difficult to read.

'I think you have a talent for survival.’

She sounded dissatisfied. 'After all, you trained under Maximus, you must have learned a lot from him.’

He looked away, 'I owe where I am today to the remarkable fighting skills he taught me, he was an honourable man, the greatest general Rome has ever seen,' Acacius' eyes were fixed on the great Temple of Venus between the eastern edge of the Forum Romanum and the Colosseum.

Domna looked at him with a feeling between admiration and concern.

‘He, like you, lived to serve Rome, even if he had to kill Commodus,’ she said, and even little children could catch the obvious implication in her voice.

Acacius held his ground, his eyes roaming the curves of the statue of Venus.

‘But unlike him, you are loyal to the emperors, I can be sure of that, can't I?

He turned his head towards her, but did not look at her. His eyes were now on the two spoilt emperors who were talking animatedly to each other between the columns. 'As long as Rome is prosperous for all her subjects, I will be loyal to them, my lady.'

Domna laughed loudly, 'Ah, that's why I want you in the Senate, how long will you refuse?

'I am only a soldier, politics is not my business, nor should it be. Consuls in the Senate -'

‘Those old foxes live in abundance and do nothing, the person who has done Rome the greatest service should be in the Senate.’ Domna glanced over her shoulder at her sons. 'I am concerned that Macrinus has no equal in the Senate and that Caracella dominates him, perhaps if you are in there, you will gain his trust.’

'Your Highness...' He looked at her shaking his head as no.

Domna looked at Acacius, this time with a serious expression on her face, 'For the sake of Rome you must be especially careful with Caracella, as her mother even I find it hard to get my way with him, he is not like Geta, he is a hard-headed child.’

Acacius looked at Caracella whose back was turned, of course he knew this very well, for a moment he thought that he was the real threat to Rome, not the enemy soldiers or the others.

‘Anyway, you should go to your villa and rest, you will have time to think about this alone,’ she said with a forced smile, then turned around to go to her sons.

After praying in the temple of Venus, Acacius walked out, and as he descended the steps of the temple, he felt a stinging pain where his wound had been, the poison had completely gone from his body, but it had left its trace behind.

Octavius was lost in thought as he has leaned against the side of the carriage waiting for him, quickly stood up when he noticed him.

‘Sir.’

‘I see you don't miss your home, as you're still here,' Acacius said as he descended the last step. He got into the carriage and climbed in to sit beside him. Acacius was quite tired so he lay down on the seat, the fact that he felt so comfortable with Octavius was because of their long friendship, he was his most trusted man, more than just a friend, like a brother.

'Are you going to tell me what's troubling you?’ Acacius covered his face with his arm, but he could feel the tension in him.

'Sir, the girl.’

'Oh, I see, a girl? Have you fallen in love with a girl?

'No, that's not it,' Octavius felt embarrassed as he remembers your face. 'That poor girl, It doesn't seem fair that she should be with those slaves, sir, you are an honourable man, but-'

Acacius lifted his arm from his face and looked at him, the cart swaying as it moved along the stony roads.

'The girl that medicus hid? Why do you care so much for her? Is there something I should know?’

'After all, they worked so hard together to cure you, perhaps you should have at least let her go home.’

‘Together? What do you mean?' Acacius sat up, his eyebrows furrowed.

Octavius bowed his head.

'Sir, I made a mistake, it was my fault for letting them into your tent, I don't know how I could have been so careless even after the assassination, forgive me...'

Acacius raised his hand.

'Slow down, we will talk about your mistake later, you are saying that girl entered my tent and cured me? How?’

'I didn't look closely at her face and I didn't know she was a woman maybe because of her outfit but I made a terrible mistake, I should’ve known, forgive me sir.’ He bowed his head once more but it made Acacius more angry.

'You haven't answered my question, Octavius,' his voice was loud.

'Yes sir, she did her best to cure you, sir, the girl and Medicus worked hard to produce antivenom all night.’

Acacius was surprised when he realized that he hadn't dreamed that night. He was glad to learn that the owner of those eyes was a real person. But then he thought that she might be on the slave market by now, about to be sold to someone else.

‘Stop the carriage!’ He yelled.

The coachman immediately did as he was told and pulled hard on the horses' harnesses, the horses howling and stamping their hooves on the ground.

'Sir?' Octavius raised his eyebrows in surprise.

'Go and find the girl, I want to see her at my villa tonight, do you understand? Acacius tossed him a pouch full of coins.

Octavius smiled, ‘Yes, sir.’

please comment, reblog and like if you enjoyed so far thank youu,

All Chapters List

[radioactive-mouse]

i keep thinking about like. how the brutality levels vary between seasons and how secret life is the natural culmination of everything these people have been through and the watchers pushing everything to extremes. i’m going to try to articulate how crazy this makes me

3rd Life: god. 3rd life was a clear cut war. we haven’t seen a season since where nearly everyone has such an intense devotion to their chosen faction. the fact that there’s no precedent that they’re coming back next season, the fact that as far as they know, dying means staying dead, makes just how much they’re willing to go down with the ship that much more heartbreaking. grian ended the season exactly how it was played by damn near everyone else— i love you, i would do anything for you, i would rather die than keep going without you. the season of widows.

Last Life: and then they come back. and then ending things isn’t an option. and all of a sudden it’s not a war, it’s a death match, and damn is the competition is vicious. deaths are more often than not a vague, impersonal thing— not get away from my king, my husband, my charge— just the flash of a knife and a quick sorry, just playing the game! if 3rd life told you to hold the ones you love close, defend them to your last breath, last life urges you to burn that love out of your chest entirely.

Double Life: but everything slows down eventually. no more dying for the one you love— just learning to live with them. double life is about knowing that when you die, you will go together, hand and hand into the dark. a soap opera, the players joke. a small kindness, the universe replies. again, pearl wins the same way everyone else lost— no, not yet, please, just give us a little longer together, i’m not ready, i’m so sorry—

Limited Life: but the clock, unyielding, ticks ever onward. and god, everyone is starting to feel it. that sick, nauseating feeling of dread creeping up on them: what if it never ends? what if this is it, this is all that’s left for us— tearing each other apart over and over and over again, and for what? for a show? to feed those hungry things lurking in the dark? we’ll give them a show. bombs rain from the sky, the world shaking under the weight of it. there isn’t a thing left by the end that’s not rubble. we’re all doomed! the players cry, laughing with nothing but nihilistic, unrestrained joy. none of it matters! we come back again, and again, and again, have a little fun with it! light the fuse, collateral be damned. when death means so little, what’s the point in pretending they don’t take a little joy in it? we settle this like grian and scar before us, scott jokes, armor and weapons tossed to the side. are you insane? martyn thinks, remembering the hollow look that would wash over grian’s face when he thought no one was watching. it ruined him. it will not ruin me. this is a death match for a reason.

Secret Life: and here it is. the natural conclusion. this season is candy colored, the map dotted with cute pink houses and silly builds, the players all running around doing these ridiculous tasks. it’s so easy to forget how bloody this season was. unclosing wounds, bruises that don’t fade, the sting of fire or falling from a simple misstep. the hurt never goes away, but it gets easier to ignore— distract yourself with something silly to pass the time: spyglasses and frogs and the ugliest house you’ve ever seen and matching leather jackets and the doghouse and the relationSHIP and a weird tunnel full of doors and secret soulmates and god it’s almost, almost, enough to forget how much it all aches, how much the grief weighs on you, how many times someone you love has died, sometimes to your own blade. almost none of the grudges you hold are real by now, not really. not when you’re going to live and die with these people for as long as the hungry, many-eyed things delight in your suffering. you love each other, in the strangest way— sure you’ve all killed and betrayed each other in a thousand different ways, but at the end of the day, they’re all you have. clinging to each other in the face of the vast, unknowable horrors that drive you to slash each other to pieces. it’s still a game, after all. they’ve gotta figure out how to be good sports about it eventually.

[anantaru]

cw. [ex]plicit, forbidden romance, passionate haithie, fem! reader

the lingering thought of living through a forbidden romance with alhaitham.

“we shouldn't be doing this but it feels so good,” while you exchange deep breaths, eyes misted with a delirious glow.

right now, nothing seemed important enough for you to muffle your cries and heaves, as it was the only way to vocalize your feeling.

but a piercing reservation for this relationship was always there.

the irremediable sorrow of what would happen if you do get caught, if someone sees you steal a couple more kisses, brush your hands together lightly when you walk past each other. it's present, that haunted look on your face, and it was impossible to cure it as it overcame you with a shaded gloom, casted above you as it applied layer after layer of unsettling emotions.

yet your heart twists when you feel him kiss you again, again— and again, as if alhaitham silently sensed how you were giving yourself to the negatives parts of your secret relationship that actually contributed to many positive instances in your life.

"i hate it, so much," that hurt, you realized, to say it out loud and feel it hang above your head, "i hate it so much, it pains me!" to voice your emotions to him too— as if it didn't kill him as well.

but you close your eyes now, your lashes shining with a threat of tears, attempting to ignore the wounds inside of you and go back to focus on what was right now, towering before you. it being alhaitham, the man you loved, so fucking much, pleasing you to his heart’s content.

the scribe traces your muscles with his fingertips before pulling himself in you again, his lips parted and glistening on top of yours. everything considered, there was a strange, almost insatiable sort of pleasure bundling inwardly, he simply never looked at you like this before.

"oh? you're still concerned someone might hear us?"

"no, I'm not," you avert your gaze in denial, but the bitterness on your facial features told the entire story to his sharp pair of eyes. you suddenly close your arms around his neck so you could kiss— and better, shut him up, so that alhaitham would also forget about your panicked outburst and resort back to filling you with pleasure.

"good, me neither, i couldn't give a damn anymore."

"what—" this was probably one of the most miserable dirty talk sessions in history of such— if you can even call that awkward conversation that.

alhaitham silently hooks his fingers under your hips before pulling you off and on him, repeatedly, but this time faster as your lower body automatically arched upwards so he could move you on and off his cock in the most pleasurable, precise way. to have your sweet cunt split by his girth—it's maddening and you feel him throb inside of you as he drags himself against your warm walls, luxuriating in the softness of your pussy.

alhaitham slumps into your body, "i-don't-care-anymore-" and at each full throated groan, he spills a new word to complete his sentence.

now, everything had gotten more hot— scorchingly hot but cold too, precisely all at once and at the same time, your creamy walls being rubbed with passionate rolls of his cock as his pelvis hits yours.

everything between your thighs retorted to feeling swollen and well used, your hips sore enough to give up but you did not want to, not now, not ever, not when there was nothing that made you feel as good and free as this.

yes, alhaitham made you feel free, like you could achieve anything in life and have him by your side at the same time.

in the course of this, you close your eyes before begging him to kiss you again, uncontrollably make out with you until your lips would strain and hurt. and alhaitham notices, pushes deeper in, so deep that his shaft had been entirely webbed in your liquids and made them ooze out whenever he pulled his cock out.

he does it with such ease, like he's meant to do this, "i don't care whether people will spread rumors," and presses his lips on top of yours, muffling.

"because there's only one person i care about."

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[cosmichorrorlesbians]

These were the Silt Verses.

(closeups/design notes/rambling under the cut, because it took me over a month to make this so I'm going to be a little self-indulgent.)

spoilers for the whole podcast ahead!

Our protagonists! Notes:

Some of these came out more accurate to how I see them than others. Hayward in particular looks much less grimy and haggard than I imagine him. Carpenter, on the other hand, is perfect in my eyes. Shrue is (subconsciously) very much inspired by the wonderful @unbloodiedmartyr's rendition of them (thanks Sacha, your art goes insanely hard!)

Hayward and Paige face away, a nod to their final parting. Carpenter and Faulkner face one another, in deference to their final reunion.

Val and Shrue are both shown at the moment of their deaths.

Paige, the only character confirmed to survive the immediate finale, is the only one with closed eyes.

I'm a blond Faulkner truther. Sorry.

Someone left some really really insane tags on a Valpost I made like a month ago about how Val can alter her appearance as she pleases, but the Last Word can never convince her not to see the actual aftermath of her torture when she looks in the mirror, and it sent me a little crazy, so I was trying to capture that failing self-deceit here. She's meant to look absurdly young, but where the flames overlay her face, you can see the prayer marks and lacerations on her skin.

I had this out on my desk for days and every time a family member dropped by I had to frantically hide the fact I was drawing 'politician gets shot in the head' fanart. RIP.

These are the marks of the Many Below! They look Not Great enlarged, but hey ho. I wanted them to look hidden and incidental, separated in each corner as they are:

'Begin with a balbis on its side. Within the two spaces, a circle marked by a single dot.' Drawn in the silt of the White Gull River.

'Beneath this, a pair of concentric circles. Within the annulus, an ovoid with a slit - a staring eye.' Scrawled across the pug postcard Cross uses to write his idea to scapegoat Shrue.

'Under that, a lemniscate over a heptagram[...]' Made up of the ribbon that binds Mercer and Gage's rifles.

'[...]and three parallel lines beneath.' Faulkner's staff, broken into three pieces.

Interstitial illustrations. There are four sets of these, which (roughly) correspond to more stand-alone episodes & fan favourites. This is my favourite, for my beloved Chapter 36: All Lovers Part As Dust. I had a blast distilling recurring motifs of the episode into one little illustration, and I'm really proud of the result; I think it captures the match of sweet and bitter that the episode in question inspires. The clock points to the eleventh hour.

These are pretty self-explanatory: I couldn't pass up a chance to draw the inciting miracle of the series, and it made sense to pair it with the image of Paige and Hayward sailing downriver at the end of Season 2, an image which has always haunted me.

The hare and the owl are from Chapter 26, a symbol of the Wound Tree's emergence. The lobster and fish are intended as a nod to Faulkner and Rane, a character who I love but couldn't include more overtly. Lobsters are seen as a symbol of devotion and fidelity because, apocryphally, they mate for life, and yet the lobster here is without its pair. The fish was intended to be a remora, which swims beside sharks. (Yes, I'm aware remora are tropical sea-dwelling fish, and humbly beg any marine biologists reading this not to kill me on the spot).

The Killing And Violence Siblings!

These object illustrations were deliberately positioned as parallels and specifically reference Season 2, marking the point of the poem that is made up of that series' titles (an attention to the series chronology that roughly coheres throughout the piece. Very roughly.)

Mercer and Gage's rifles are twisted round with a red ribbon, which bleeds into the White Gull, binding them together and reflecting how they're rarely seen apart. The ribbon's also a deliberate parallel to the banner wrapping Carpenter and Faulkner's hands elsewhere in the art.

Carpenter's axe and Faulkner's sororicidal mirror shard are depicted alongside fish hooks, as though they're separated for much of the season, the Parish draws them back together in the end. Also an echo of Paige's line, 'Love is just a meat hook for you to catch me on.'

There's only blood on one of the rifles, in a nod to Mercer and Gage's uneven dynamic.

Bookend landscapes. The pages were intended to reference the Silt Verses as an in-story document, and represent the themes of truth, myth and record throughout.

The illumination!

It was always going to be a radio-- not a nod specifically to Sid Wright, but really to the use of broadcast, music and sound throughout the show. TSV's sound design is truly one of the things I admire most about it.

The radio is meant to be on Carpenter and Faulkner's dashboard, as they drive along the river in the very first episode, hence its positioning at the start of the poem.

I conceived this as the centre of the piece, and drew the rest around it.

aaaand that was a lot. I didn't cover everything, and I recommend clicking on the final piece to get full quality and see how the details interact with one another-- but if you've read through all these meanderings, thank you, sibling. I started this two weeks after the finale, and managed a full relisten while drawing. It's been a labour of love, and I now hate watercolours more than I have words for.

[arminsumi]

Seeing ex!Geto again after years

💗 すぐる

note : srry to make y'all cry 👍 this was written from a raw heart lol

summary : oh god, he still loves you. oh god. all of it comes back to him in the moment he sees you. you say his name and it feels like a gunshot wound to the chest.

warnings : angst, kinda hopeful ending, not proofread

playme : my love mine all mine

In the moment you turn to face the stranger, the world stops. Or at least the world between you and him. You always did "live in your own world" when you were dating, everyone pointed it out.

When Suguru sees you for the first time after not talking to you for... what, a year? He's so stricken. His eyes widen. His pupils dilate a bit. The color drains from his face. He doesn't know what he feels, but it's a snapping shattering breaking ruining feeling.

And when you, so shocked as you are, whisper his name with a chip in your voice "Suguru...?" It's like a gunshot wound to his heart. Bang. It kills him. And god it's only his name, isn't it crazy that the effect is so severe?

It has such a hold on him, you saying his name. He can't move; he's stationary, statue-like just like you in the middle of this cafe. He's paralyzed by your voice. The voice that used to sing him to sleep. The voice that used to talk philosophy with him at 2:32 AM on school nights. The voice that was the only thing that calmed him down during his darkest hours.

He stutters. No words come out of him or you, and yet so much is said. So much is said.

"Hey." he chokes out.

"Hey." you return.

Isn't it funny, he thinks when he gets home and slumps against the door after closing it.

How we used to speak until we ran out of breath, until we exhausted all topics possible. And then stared with pure love at each other in silence...

...and yet when you encountered each other in public by chance again, nothing but "hey"? He used to tell you that he was gonna spend his whole life with you. He used to call you baby. He used to cradle you in his arms. He used to love you vehemently. He used to kiss you until he gasped for air and laughed. He used to smile into those kisses. He used to swear he was yours, all yours. He etched your name into his skin, not figuratively; when you were teenagers you were fucking insane and giggled over the idea of etching your names into each other.

Sad. So sad. He feels his whole chest weighted, gravity pulls on his heart like it's pulling him into a grave.

While in bed, he stares at your phone number in his contacts. He blocks and unblocks. He types and deletes. He calls and ends calls. He nibbles his lip and sighs and gives up.

What would I even say...?

The image of a memory from September 21st 2019 flashes in his eyes. Your smiling face. Okinawa.

He snaps. And calls you. And it rings, rings rings rings rings rings —

"...hello? Whose number is this?" you ask, voice sending a shiver down his spine.

Fuck, that voice. That voice... is capable of murder. You kill me, baby. You kill me with your voice alone.

He makes a strangled noise. Tears roll off his cheeks. There's so many tears in fact. So many. Endless. It hurts him to shed every single one. And all his tears are for you.

"...Suguru, is that you?"

How could she know?

He chokes up and stutters, and says the quietest "hey" after clearing his throat.

It's 1:30 AM.

"You're still a night owl?"

There's tense silence............................................then you chuckle and it fucking breaks him. Devastates him. Tortures him so deliciously. Oh he missed that. Oh god he missed that. That laugh. That laugh is so beautiful to him. It's so brief and yet it nourishes his whole soul just to hear your laugh again. Oh god your laugh. Oh god... your voice.

Oh god, you.

"I am, yeah." you respond. "But you're awake too, aren't you?"

I want to hear her say my name again.

"I am..."

Please say my name again.

"You are."

Baby say my name. Say my name. Say my name.

There's silence. He knows, and you know, that the both of you are feeling flashbacks of memories crashing over the two of you like tidal waves. Memories of you and him.

Us.

"...did you ever think of me?" you ask.

"...I thought of you every day from the moment we parted."

You choke up. You laugh to cope with his revelation.

"How dramatic..." he can hear your voice grow hoarse, like you're in pain but trying to be funny. Because... it is funny, isn't it? This insanity we call reality?

"Sorry..."

"I've got to sleep... got work tomorrow."

"Me too."

"Okay..."

"Yeah."

"Hey?"

"Yeah?"

He holds his breath.

"Suguru."

His whole world... god, it's... he just... he...

"Y/n."

The two of you hang up.

A few minutes pass. Then the two of you call each other again. It's you calling him. His heart thumps hard. His chest is so tight.

"...hey."

"...hey."

And then... well, it's... it's just like the old days. But different. But still... that old feeling engulfs you and him during this phone call.

A phone call that starts at 1 AM and ends at 5 AM.

Dawn comes. When birds chirp.

And the two of you pass out while talking, the phone call still going. You wake up and see that he never ended the call after saying he would once you fell asleep.

[xlatiwritesx]

For Good | LN4

Genre: angst

Words: 1.5K

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: after four months of healing, you think you’re finally over the love of your life. But when he randomly shows up heartbroken at your doorstep late at night, you start questioning everything.

…

If someone asked what was one of the greatest luxuries that life offers, you'd immediately say the ability to forget. The ability of time to mend broken hearts and stitch up wounds. Even if not entirely.

You think of this as you wave goodbye to your friends whom were still talking around a small, round coffee table at a cafe downtown you've been planning to go to for weeks. You don't realize it until you were leaving that Lando was the one that had recommended this place to you. Your smile widens at your progress as you get in your car to drive home.

You stop at a red light, watching as the people pooled into the street to cross it, going on with their day. You smiled at a couple holding hands. You smiled at another holding each other close. You think back to the earlier days after your break up. How these scenes would've sent you over the edge. How these scenes kept you locked up in your apartment because it was easier to be a prisoner to isolation and loneliness than to endless heartbreak.

As you take the elevator up to your floor, you can't help but think of how it would’ve been if things were different. If he was different. No. If his life and what he was was different.

Would your heart have been torn apart into shreds and just barely brought back together?

You shake your head as if it would shake off the thought and unlock your door. You hang your coat behind it and drop your keys on the kitchen island.

Throwing yourself on your living room couch and kicking off your shoes, you can't help but think of how many nights you've woken up in the middle of, lonely and choking on nothing but a lump caused by loss and heartache. You shiver, feeling grateful that part of your life was over. That you've grown since then.

You focus on whatever was on the TV to stop you from thinking of the worst period of your life. You take a deep breath and force it out, getting comfortable by pulling a throw blanket over your cold body.

You get lost in the many ads and all their flashing colors, almost missing the ringing doorbell. You frown, wondering who could show up at that hour. You check your phone clock and it reads 11 pm. Your frown deepens as you sit up, giving the ringer one last chance before you went to open.

It rings again.

You finally get up, walk to the door and open it. Suddenly, it made sense why someone would visit you at that hour.

You look at him, his curls messier than you remember them to be, his eyes darker than you do as well. His athletic physique seems weak and beat up by something only you would know so well. He looks at you the same way you looked at his pictures when you left him that night.

"I can't do it, y/n" he whispers, barely having the strength to shrug. You open your mouth slightly, but nothing comes out.

You just open the door farther, moving out of the way so he could come into the place he has memorized by heart. He drags his feet along your wooden floors to the living room you had danced around in for many nights. Where you've shared words for only both of you to hear, confessions of admiration, and jokes no one else would laugh about but the both of you.

He drops on your couch and his head falls back. You shut the door and stand there, your hands behind you and your brows furrowed. So many emotions run through your body. Longing. Worry. Panic.

You didn't know how to act. Because the only way you knew how was to run into his arms and hold on to him forever. But you shut your eyes and pierce your lips. You couldn't do it to yourself. Not again.

You slowly walk closer to where he was, yet still stand far enough to be out of reach. You take a closer look at him. You've never seen him like this and it killed you.

"Lando" your shaky voice echos. He opens his eyes and look at you. You didn't think it was possible for more pain to find its way to his eyes. But somehow it did.

"Don't call me that" he frowns, standing up and walking closer to you. You keep your eyes on his, not able to move any inch of your body.

"You never call me that" he whispers, his face finally just inches away from yours.

Your heart squeezes. Squeezes so tightly that your eyes are forced shut and your tear ducts are suddenly full. His scent. His face. His voice. His mere existence. You missed it. You missed him. So much that you were barely standing on your feet still.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice is barely audible when you finally speak, your eyes still shut to keep your uninvited tears from exposing your tortured soul.

“Look at me” he begs, voice desperate. Way too desperate for you not to listen. Your eyes meet his again, except it’s a blurry version of them this time.

“Why are you here, Lan?” You promise yourself to call him by his nickname once. Just once more. He smiles through the storm of his emotions when you say it and you immediately question your integrity for already wanting to break the promise you’ve just made.

“What is it?” You pressure and his faint smile fades. He opens his mouth to answer, but no words come out immediately.

“I can’t do it. Being away from you-“ you turn around before he could finish, pressing the bottoms of your palms against your eyes to hopefully keep the tears in, but even dams fail to keep raging rivers.

His hands find your waist, his forehead resting inbetween your shoulder and neck. You both stay like that for a while. It takes every ounce of strength you have to keep yourself from sobbing. Whaling, even.

You thought it was over. You thought you were okay. That time did heal. And that you broken heart was mending. But it took one look at him to get you right back to that night. And one touch to make it all worse.

“No, Lan” you shake your head, unable to keep yourself from crying anymore.

“We already talked about it. This won’t work and-“

“No! We didn’t! We never talked about how every night it feels like bricks are piling over my heart, crushing me into pieces because I can’t reach out and feel you by my side!” Lando’s voice fills every inch of your apartment. You keep your back to him, hunched over as tears streamed down your face.

“I can’t do this anymore! I’ll do anything. Anything you want, just name it and I’ll do it. I’ll buy it. I’ll be it!” He continues. You feel him coming back to hold you and you don’t move. Instead, you anticipate it. Hoping, praying, begging for it.

“Just please come back to me” he wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing his temple on your wet cheek. You keep crying silently, hoping for a moment of strength so you could reply.

You slowly turn in his arms to face him, holding his face and pressing your forehead to his. You both close your eyes and for a moment it’s like nothing changed. It felt like the many nights you spent loving him over and over again until you were incapable of loving anything else.

“I believe we tried everything, Lan. It’s time to let this go. For good” you somehow manage to say that. He somehow heard you, because he shakes his head slowly, disapproving.

“Yes” you whisper against your wishes. Against all your deepest desires and dreams to be with him forever. To hold his hand and never let go.

“No” his voice breaks and you break beyond breaking with it.

“Please” you breath shakily.

“Don’t make this harder than it already is, Lan” you beg. His arms find their way around you again, his head buries in the crook of your neck. You feel him shake against you. You wrap your arms around him too. Taking him in as if you didn’t have him memorized already.

You both stand there, in each other’s arms, listening, watching, feeling your hearts shatter for the millionth time, cursing your circumstances for tearing you apart. For being too drastically different.

“I love you” Lando mumbles and you smile lightly through your tears, holding him tighter.

“I love you, too”

[strangesthirdeye]

I'M HIS- {SEVERUS SNAPE X WIFE! READER}

Summary: When cat is finally out of the bag Warning: IT'S SEVERUS SNAPE! WE'RE ALL LOVE HIM! Fluff, low angst, gentle, wounds, blood, not so major injuries, Order of the Phoenix, mentioned of kill, Death Eater, swearing, LOVELY man, OOC Severus Snape? Fluff, love, marriage, As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"The Death Eater is getting more violent"

"They just want to show that they are back.. The Dark Lord is back" Said Sirius, hands crossed in front of him. He looked at Remus.

"And yet they are trying to bring back some old Death Eaters and recruiting some new Death Eaters." Remus muttered.

"The Dark Lord wants to make sure that they will win the war this time. They want the power to conquer the whole Wizarding World" Said Sirius.

Severus remained silent as he had nothing to say in this matter. He knows that they are outnumbered regarding how many Death Eaters there are. Although Severus was only a spy on both sides, that didn't mean he didn't have split feelings. Concerned and nervous.  But despite all those feelings, he managed to masked them all.

"Despite all that, Sirius. We can't let Harry join The Order. He's still a child" Said Remus to Sirius. He knows what Sirius is thinking regarding he has known Sirius for a long time.

"But we can't just let him be left behind. He needs to know everything. He's been through a lot before why can't we just let him join the Order if that's what he wants" Sirius reasoned.

"He's not your son, Sirius" Molly replied as she stared at Sirius intently.

"He's good to be one." Sirius insisted.

"Harry is not James" Molly stated.

Severus scoffed at the name of James Potter. His old arch enemy. He despises that man with all his life. His old bully that he will never forgive. It might sound selfish but that's the truth. He hates him just like he hates that Potter's son. Harry reminds Severus about James and he hates that his old bitter memories are opened whenever he sees Harry's face.

"He's good. Can't you see his spirit?" Sirius replied.

"Even if we see his spirit, Sirius. That doesn't mean he can join the Order. He's still a child. Who else has he got?" Remus muttered firmly, hands clasped on the table as he stared at Sirius in front of him.

"He's got me. He's already like my son" Sirius replied.

"How sentimental that is, Black. It makes me want to puke" Severus said sarcastically.

"Stay out of this, Snivellius" Sirius glared at him. "Mind your own business"

Severus rolled his eyes at him. With insults thrown at him, Severus tended to ignore them as usual. He has been used to the insults thrown at him since school, which he dealt with by ignoring it. He has been called many names and been called many things that shouldn't be even though he has been through many things that shouldn't be.

But sometimes there are times when he starts to fight back but it ends up hurting him. Throughout his school years at Hogwarts, for him is a place that can be called home and hell. Why? first it is called home is because he can distance himself from his abusive father and why he calls it hell is with all these bullying he went through while he was at Hogwarts.

But some things never change. He still goes through that phase even as an adult. Severus just remained silent at the table. Silently hoping that this meeting ends early. He doesn't want to be here but Dumbledore insisted him to join the meeting.

"Bastard" Severus silently cursed as he fidgeted his fingers under the table.

As the whole Order of the Phoenix was bickering, suddenly out of nowhere a loud crack appeared in front of the door 12 Grimmauld Place making everyone silent. They looked at each other in alarm before they rushed to the front door.

It is quite impossible for people to apparate into 12 Grimmauld place easily because they have put some spells to prevent people from apparating or entering at will. Hearing that familiar sound made them rush to the front door.

Severus was not far behind. What they found was a middle-aged woman, dressed in a black robe from top to bottom, her combat boots dirty with fresh mud, her clothes dirty with mud and moss while her face was hidden by her hood. The woman seemed to be leaning heavily on the wall. Her chest fell and rose to draw in and exhale her gasping breath as she groaned with fatigue and pain. The woman looked up to them weakly.

She then smiled genuinely. The Order of The Phoenix members who had drawn their wands on the woman frowned in confusion. Molly looked at her with concern.

The woman opened her mouth. "I believe Dumbledore said that Severus Snape is here" the woman weakly said.

Severus frowned as he walked past them to see the mysterious woman. The woman, upon seeing Severus in her line of sight, smiled weakly at him.

"They got me" The woman said. A sense of sorrow in her voice as she began to lose consciousness.

Severus widened his eyes upon hearing that as he suddenly bolted towards the woman who was almost sliding to the ground and managed to catch her from stomping to the ground.

Severus held up her head in his hands, one hand opened the woman's hood and revealed the woman's face to the other members of the Order of Phoenix.

They frowned with a hint of unfamiliarity at the woman. Her face is full of bruises and cuts that are still covered in blood. They slowly lowered their wands when they sensed that this woman was not harmed.

Severus whispered her name under his breath, trying to wake her up but she didn't respond. When Severus tried to adjust his hold on the woman, he then noticed that the shoulders of the woman's robes were wet. His hand supported her head while the other tapped her cheek to wake her up and started to touch the woman's shoulder carefully.

He pulled his hand that was holding her shoulder. There were blood stains on his palm. He furrowed his eyebrow with worry before he picked up the woman in a bridal style and walked past the other members who were watching the scene suspiciously.

"Snape wh-"

"don't get involved in this, Black" Severus hissed.

"who is she? How does she know about this place?" Remus asked.

Severus ignored them as he took the woman in his arms to one of the rooms in 12 Grimmauld place. Hearing some noises from downstairs, Harry, Hermione, Ron and the others who were hanging out in one of the rooms upstairs started to go out to see the source of the noise.

They all had confused expressions when they heard the bickering between the adults there. But then their expressions changed as Severus walked in front of them to enter one of the rooms in Grimmauld place. They never saw their Pofessor whom they despised go upstairs as long as he attended the Order of The Pheonix meeting let alone using one of the rooms here.

Harry noticed his godfather behind Severus who was still asking questions about the unconscious woman but then Sirius was silent when Severus shut the door in his face. Sirius turned the doorknob a few times knowing that the door had been locked by Severus. He scoffed before he turned his gaze to another place but then his eyes caught his godson's gaze.

Harry raised his eyebrows as if asking a question which Sirius pursed his lips and shook his head.

"You should all be in bed. It's late" Sirius muttered as he strode down to the downstairs.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Severus Kneeled beside the unconscious woman's bed. His eyebrows furrowed with concentration as he washed several wounds and cuts on the woman's face with a wet cloth to prevent infection. The woman's shirt was flipped aside for Severus to treat the wound on the woman's shoulder easily. He then put the wet cloth into a container filled with water before reaching for some potion bottles that he had brought incase something like this happened between The Order of the Phoenix.

Severus then applied the ointment he made on the woman's cuts and wounds, especially on the woman's shoulder. The woman was still unconscious which made Severus slightly worried. He then looked towards the woman's hand. His eyes seemed focused on the ring finger. There resides a simple silver ring on the woman's finger. Severus narrowed his eyes.

The same ring he was wearing. Severus diverted his gaze on the woman's face which was clean of blood. He moved closer to her then moved the strands of hair from the woman's face gently. Severus sighed lowly as he sat back against the wall beside the bed. Waiting for this mysterious woman to wake up. His hand held the woman's hand, thumb rubbed the back of the woman's hand tenderly.

As he seems to zoned out, he didn't notice the woman's eyebrows twitched indicating that the woman had begun to regain consciousness. The woman turned her head weakly as she let out a soft breath. Pain is still felt in her body. Eyes still closing but she is still aware of the warmth in her hands. Severus turned his attention from space to the woman alarmingly.

"Sev-"

"shh" Severus shushed her as he stroked the woman's face softly.

The woman sighed. "They got me"

"I know.." Severus replied.

"They know I'm a double agent"

Severus remained silent. His hand still stroking the woman's face as the woman finally opened her eyes and looked at Severus.

"I failed the mission" She whimpered.

"no, you're not, Y/n" Severus moved his body to take the woman into his arms.

"Voldemort knows that I work for Dumbledore. He knows that I am loyal to Dumbledore and not him." You paused to swallow. "He said that in the end I will betray him. Severus.. He's been suspecting me all this time. He knows. I'm scared that he will come to you too" you whimpered into his chest.

Hearing Voldemort's name made Severus' spine shiver. He remained silent as he kept embracing you.

"Don't worry about me, Love. I know what I should do." Severus assured.

You are still hugging his body. Face looked up looking at Severus' face with cheeks wet with tears. Your eyes are red from crying.

"But I'm scared Severus, that he will suspect you too. He knows that we-"

"I know.. " Severus said lowly as he stroked your hair gently. "I'll make sure he doesn't suspect anything about me"

You just nodded as you hugged his torso tightly as if your life depended on him. Severus didn't care about how tightly you hugged him but instead he hugged you tightly too. He put his chin on top of your head as he rubbed your back reassuringly.

After a few minutes of embracing each other, you both finally parted away. You bow your head as you sniffles. Severus looked at you with concern before he took your face to look at him. He palmed your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears that wet your cheeks.

"You're going to be okay. He won't do anything to you as long as I'm with you" Severus whispered as he kissed your forehead. "you're safe here"

"I'm sorry if I suddenly apparated here. Dumbledore gave me the address of this place because he said you would be here with the Order" You muttered. "They must be surprised to see people they don't know suddenly appear"

"nonsense. That's not what you need to worry about." Severus replied. "Besides they must be wondering who are you to me"

"They will definitely be surprised upon hearing what we are to each other" You said, smiling fondly.

"Obviously" Severus muttered. "Are you okay now?" Severus added.

You hummed as you rested your head on his chest. "I'm fine as long as you're by my side"

Severus faintly smiled at that as he kissed your crown of hair. "Good, now we have to explain to them about the outburst earlier"

You huffed. "Is it necessary?"

"Yes" Severus replied.

You sighed before nodding in agreement.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"So what you said is that she is your... Wife?" Arthur mumbled in disbelief. Eyes looked at you and Severus.

Severus hummed as he kept himself close to your side as a way to support you to stand. You glanced at him gratefully before diverting your gaze to Arthur.

"We have a reason to hide this. But we can't hide this for long, can we?" you replied.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Can't believe that Snivellius got this beautiful woman"

"and you don't? " You furrowed your eyebrows as Severus glared at him, lips faintly smirked at your statement.

Remus sent his warning look at Sirius. "We don't need to inflame the situation, Sirius"

"What? It's true. Don't tell me you're on his side" Sirius crossed his arms.

"I'm not on anyone's side" Remus said firmly.

"She's a Death Eater! We can't trust her" Sirius snapped.

"She's a double agent just like Snape" Remus replied.

"Gentlemen, please... Take this matter seriously. We don't need any arguments here." Arthur interjected as he glared at the two men. He sighed. Molly looked at him with concern as she rubbed her hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Look. What Severus did about keeping his relationship a secret was a reasonable thing due to the situation we're going through right now... Yes, she is a double agent. Dumbledore himself gave her and Severus that qualification. I understand these days no one can be trusted but for once, please investigate it first. Like Severus explained earlier, his wife is a double agent of the Order of the Phoenix and a Death Eater. But that doesn't mean she is loyal to the Death Eater as she herself wants to bring down the Death Eater. She's been through a lot in risking her life in that position. Same goes too Severus but that doesn't mean you all can act like that towards her. Snape has a reason to hide his relationship from everyone because everyone will know that is his weak point. They don't want to risk their loved ones, neither do we, but here we are in the same situation as them. Risking the lives of our loved ones. You just can't be so quick to judge someone easily. They're human too" Arthur shook his head.

All the members there were silent with what Arthur said. There's a truth in what he said, never judge someone easily and don't easily accuse someone based on background.

Sirius sighed in defeat. "Fine.. Sorry about that, Snape's wife"

Severus rolled his eyes at that. You sighed.

You nodded. " And the name Y/n Snape actually." you crossed your arms over your chest.

"Sirius Black, though you knew who am i" Sirius said, leaning against the walls behind him with hands crossing over his chest.

"My husband's bully" you stated coldly.

Sirius and Remus were silent. Severus' lips twitched in a faint smile. Only you can make someone question themselves on the spot. Making them speechless.

"I believe we have both explained everything to you. I'm afraid I need to take my wife home to get enough rest. She's been through a lot. Farewell" Severus took your hand and slowly led you out of Grimmauld Place to apparated.

As soon as the two of you left the place, you took a breath of fresh air that night. A cold temperature slapped your skins, you brought your body closer to Severus for warmth. Severus put his hand on your uninjured shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Severus asked in concerned.

You nodded. "Brilliant. Those men really make me tired. Mentally." you said in amusement. "Though it was quite satisfying to silence Sirius Black"

Severus faintly smirked. "He deserves what he asked for" Severus murmured.

"And I won't let it slide easily" You added.

Severus brought your body closer to his. "Thank you.. For being with me"

You smiled genuinely at him as you side hugged him. "Always"

[blueparadis]

꒰ STUCK ON YOU ꒱ ⋮ JING YUAN [ CONTENT & TAGS ] — » f!reader x jing yuan, fluff, angst, undertones of smut, established relationship//word count — 1.2k// blog navigation.

Jing Yuan saunters across the chambers in his loose trousers, a serape wrapped from his back to his chest just to safeguard himself from catching a cold. The enormous windows connecting the chambers to the sundeck are still open letting the cold gusts of wind enter. The world is slowly sinking into darkness while he grows restless with each passing second. How could have this happened? This is the first time it went down this way, after his marriage with you. The general is earnest about what he does, and what he has been doing. He is one of the seven Arbiter-Generals of the Xianzhou Alliance's Cloud Knights and one of the Six Charioteers of the Xianzhou Luofu.  How could he let it happen? Wait, was he really at fault for this?

The approaching footsteps reach his ears and he stares at the door of this sleeping chamber. Is it really you?

“What’re you doing here?” he grabs you by the shoulders as you walk into the room. His grip is firm enough to bruise you but you are used to it. It has been a few months since the marriage, and most of it went away in learning various rituals and traditions of post-marriage. However, when he had you all to himself he drained every bit of love from him into you that his fingertips could ever offer on the shores of your skin. But this has never happened before; you, away from home, away from him when he is about to come back from a warzone.

“I could ask you the same—-” You steadied yourself from the sudden disbalance caused by his hold on you. “What’re you doing here?” you deadpanned without flinching. Your husband cocks his face, seeing the ache in your eyes and deliberately mistaking it as a challenge or a mere tantrum. After all, you are the wife of the greatest general of all time. Not only him but everyone except the fire underneath your soul and a spark in your eyes yet here you are: caged by the man you took vows to be bound to him by life, death, and afterlife. You do not resist it. You never do. He knows that. 

Jing Yuan knows how keen you are for him, how hungry your soul is for him because of all those stealing glances in between meetings, all those sneaky moments with you, taking tours in the town in the guise of common people, him buying you the prettiest flowers and the brightest gems, you kissing him under the oak tree where there was no soul to be seen; just you and him against the world—- were all those just a fever dream?  Was he just your plaything and not the other way around ? Could it really be possible? What went wrong?

“What am I doing here?” He leans towards you enough to let his breath fan against your mouth but not to touch your lips with his. “I’m here for you. Can’t you tell?” He murmurs against your ears, deeply inhales your scent. He has missed you direly in times of war but he had never imagined that he would not see his wife when he comes home after winning the war. Whenever he came home, especially after wars you were there to greet him, to tend to his wounds and needs. He would search for you like a wounded predator seeking refuge but this time when he came home and you were nowhere to be found in his palace, he felt like he did not win at war. All those lives that he protects, all those lives that he just saved seemed useless. It is a wasted victory. 

His grip loosens eventually. He still has not discarded the armor and changed into normal clothes. The sword is still tucked in its sheath, he could kill you if he wanted. After all, you defied so many things by coming here to your father’s home. You defied not only his dignity but also your morals, and went against all the rules and rituals that make you the wife of the general. But it was just too hard to keep up, too suffocating to breathe. You could not just take it—- the time apart that you have to spend every time he prepares for war. 

No letters. No news. You can not even accompany him to the battle site. All you can do is wait and pray to the Gods while he fights. Jing Yaun will never understand how hard it is to hold on to hope when the grim reaper is banging at the door. He will never know how many sleepless nights you have spent thinking about him. He will never since he is always bestowed with your presence whenever he comes home; be it war or a mere chore. He would never fathom the agony of longing for you. But you can not possibly tell him that. He might be furious, he might get hurt, he might think it is childish and he might not take you home with him. There are so many things that could happen but you still had to risk it to see it for yourself, to let him feel what you have felt during the times of war.

“There are certain matters that need my attention. So, I had to come here. It was urgent.” You finally stated. The maids who were standing outside for your order entered the room for preparing a bath for him. It is dark outside. You can not let him go with a wounded heart and body. It is not right. Jing Yuan is standing at an arm's length from you, his glacial eyes boring at you while the maids fade into the adjacent room. 

“Tell me. Tell me why. . . why are you doing this?” his voice is firm and loud. It is not of someone who is not a fertile thinker enough to put two and two together to get four. 

“You know why. . .” that was barely a whisper but Jing Yuan’s heart never ached like this before. He has been through countless deaths, and he has witnessed his beloved turn into a ghost but being at arm's length from you and being unable to take away your pain is a salt to his wounds. He knows he had pained you enough. He can see it. He can see it now; when you look down with eyes so full of tears all he wishes is to make everything disappear, the maids, the rules, the customs that keep you apart from him; have you in his arms and the world aside enough not to disturb his time with you. 

“Then, I shall stay here until you settle things here.” He exclaims as if he did not just break eons of traditions. After marriage, the husband never stays at his wife’s house, they never can especially someone with such a high rank as Jing Yuan but he has been earnest about what he does. He has been stubborn like a child obsessed with a particular toy since he met you and he shall not leave this place without his plaything. “I could assist you in work” he remarks as he swiftly closes the gulf between you two having you in arms crashing his lips on to yours. 

The maids are still here. They could come out at any minute now but Jing Yuan does not budge. His hand slips under your robes, pulling them up and grabbing your thigh. His kiss grows hungry while you arch. Oh! How he has missed this scent. The sound of water ceases declaring that their work is done.

“more like distracting me . . .” you rasp pulling away from his fervent kiss. He rests his mouth against the column of your neck, breathing hard before draging his nose down your throat and finally freeing you from his hold. The maids inform and leave after doing the nesessities. You undress yourself while staring at your husband. He watches you as the dresses hit the floor one by one.

Jing Yuan's lips form a crescent, so full of thrill and joy. That's the spirit. That's the lioness Jing Yuan remembers falling for.

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Spouse + Reader + Yan Android Maid

Suggestive themes.

-

You aren't lonely.

Things have taken a drastic change in your relationship, yet you continue to deny that you are. When you first met, your spouse was the sweetest person imaginable. Greeting you each morning, and waiting by your door each night with a meal when you were just neighbors in a shitty apartment complex. Offering you rides to work when your car broken down. Being there when those you loved dropped off the face of the earth.

You moved into a cozy house away from the hustle of city life and everything was fine for a while. If you were to pinpoint the moment emotions too agonizing to acknowledge, it would be the day of their promotion. Hours waited on you exchanged for ones cooped up in their study or at the office. Those kisses that made you feel whole no longer as lssting nor was their presence in your once happy home. The most harrowing thing of all was the acute case of paranoia they had fallen into. Even when they were back in your arms, their eyes only looked out the windows - searching for something that wasn't there.

You knew they weren't cheating. They swore to you they'd kill themself than betray you in such a way; proof written in red ink and the scars you both shared from a night you spoke out and wondered where they were. You knew better than to believe that, but it just wasn't the same. You pray it's the stress of a new position and things will go back to the way they were. That you can look at them like they were the person you fell in love with again-

"Y/n, meet Lemon."

The android puts on its best smile in preparation, bright eyes flickering at the mention of its master's name. Your puzzled face stares you down from its reflective pupils.

"Pleasure to meet you, Master"

"They will be your companion from now on. My boss wants me in the office on weekends now, and since we haven't made friends with the neighbors yet I don't want you get lonely.

"Weekends?" But that's the only time you have together. "When will I see you then?"

Your spouse hides their sorrow behind a wall of ice. "We're still working on an agreement for that. II'll still get time off, but it changes every time. Lemon will take good care of you while I'm gone."

Rose tints the android's face. "That is my prime objective. As my owner commands, my master's needs will be my top priority."

Its words sting when they shouldn't. Top priority. Were you still that to them? Is that why they're doing this to you? Sensing something off, the android's eyes dim. Your spouse leaves the room so you can get acquainted.

-

Life with Lemon was... tolerable. You didn't have to cook or clean anymore. A blessing as much as it was a curse as sometimes it just made you feel more useless. Every hour was a new conversation, and they constantly reminded you of important tidbits such as the weather and how many days left until your birthday. They read to you. Listened to you. Held you as the other side of the bed remained empty.

But that only happened once.

You didn't want to get too attached to them. Alive or not, you didn't have the heart to grow a bond with anything right now. On the surface you treated them like a glorified vaccum, but in those hours of weakness they were your only ally. Lemon never judged you how to processed your grief and remained happy at arm's length - for as long as they could.

The first time their demeanor changed was after you had taken a shower. A nice shower or bath always eased your nerves, and right then they were so tense it felt like your blood vessels would burst. Your spouse had called you the night prior on their first day off in months that they had to stay behind. Your wounded heart gave and you cried, Lemon quick to console you. You slept in their hold that night and left by dawn to take a shower and clear your head.

Stepping out of the tub, your towel was nowhere to be seen. None in the cabinet either. You check the ones beneath the sink as a last resort, a heated towel falling on your shoulders as you stand up.

"Steamed towel, Master?"

The water evaporates off your skin as their hands massage your neck through the warm cotton - sweat dipping down your face as you look back at the android. Their finger press rest the pinched muscles in your back as they work the towel down to the curve of your spin, pushing you against the counter as they dip into your nerves. Wrapping it around your waist, Lemon shifts the towel around to your chest, pulling your body to their heated exterior.

"Let me make sure you're all dry, wouldn't you?"

The artificial rumble of their voice drones in your ear, faux lips tracing its shell. Their hand gropes your thigh as they bite Tearing the tower from their grip, you excuse yourself and storm out of the room. Lemon watches you leave and picks up your discarded pajamas, pocketing your undergarments.

-

Lemon hums from their station at the stove. A few days have passed since the shower incident and you haven't really thought about it with your spouse returning home that same night. Lemon was unusually quiet during that time, but you figured they were embarrassed or something. Could an android even get jealous?

"Breakfast!" Lemon sets a plate of pancakes on the table. "Syrup?"

"Yes... thank you." You scroll through your texts with your spouse, paying them no mind. As they the syrup over your plate, Lemon's hand slips and they get it all over yours. They cover their mouth in shock.

"Master, I'm so sorry! I fear I have dust in my eye sockets again."

"It's alright. Can you pass me a napkin?"

"Please, allow me to clean up my mistake." Lemon takes your hand as they kneel, running your sticky fingers over their thin lips. One by one, they pop your fingers into their mouth, swallowing them deeper with each finger added. Their tongue rolls between them, cleaning every syrup down to the crevices separating them apart. As they had taken them in, Lemon pulls your fingers from their mouth one at a time with a wet pop. Your fingers were drenched in their spit. You didn't know they had saliva glands.

"Is everything alright, Master?"

"Yeah, I just didn't know you could do... that." You spread your fingers.

"Well I am the most advanced model of my generation. Owner wanted to make sure they had the best caretaker for you, and it is my pleasure to provide you with such deserved care. I can do whatever you need."

Lemon tucks your hair behind your ear as they rise up to your chest. "Whenever you need it."

They rip your legs apart to make room for themself as their lips collapse against yours. Where they lacked in human feeling, Lemon's mouth made up for by intensely tangling with yours. Passion you hadn't witness in weeks hid behind each press, your lips and teeth giving way to their exploring tongue as it swabs your cheek and the roof of your mouth. The bundled fabric of their apron rocks against your inner thigh as they drag you into their hold.

"Y/n! I'm back."

Lemon is gone from the floor before the front door closes. They pull a rag from their pocket and clean up the remaining syrup as your spouse enters the scene. They kiss your cheek, helping you out the chair and into a hug. They seem extra excited today.

"I missed you, dear. And as I can tell you missed me too."

"What do you mean?"

"Lemon is wearing the necklace you gave me for our second anniversary. I know things have been hard, but I'll be home soon."

Your eyes bulge from their sockets as you look over your spouse's shoulder at what Lemon carries, dotted pupils focused on their hand rather than their neck. Lemon shoves your underwear in their mouth, sapping the syrupy mess from its fabric.

-

When they come to you they're dressed in your spouses finest outfit. They did that a lot, but they choice is particular piece for the night it spent on the floor after a party caught by the room's surveillance cameras. Lemon crawls up the end of the bed, making a checkpoint in their approach with each kiss they leave on your body. Legs, stomach, wrists, chest, neck. You turn your head away before they can kiss you again.

"Lemon. I don't know if they asked you to do this, but you don't have to."

Lemon shakes their head, their keen denial tying your stomach in knots. "I'm sorry if this makes it harder to swallow, but this is not by Owner's order. If anything, it's the opposite, but I cut that bug out of my programming ages ago. I'm here to give you everything, remember?"

"We can't do this. It feels wrong."

Lemon kisses your jaw. "All the best things do, Y/n. This not infidelity, because I'm only fullying my prime objective and making you happy. That's all I've ever wanted. Besides, it's no bigger sin that using a toy. A toy can't love you back."

But a plaything can.

-

Your spouse throws their bloody vest in the trunk of their car as they fish their pockets for their keys. Another private eye. Why wouldn't the people from your past understand the person they adored is dead. They were so eager to get you home they left too many plot holes in their story which lead to this whole mess.

If faking your death proved anything, it's that your loyal spouse couldn't share.

[caelivir]

[ 12:42 am ] — OLIVER AIKU | angst

the door bell rings, followed by a vicious pounding on the wood. your name is called out numerous times, muffled by the walls that separate you and oliver.

the tears spring into your eyes, and it takes a moment for you to steel yourself for what comes next. one breath in. one breath out. then you’re up from the couch.

you unlock the door, not shocked to find oliver standing on the other side of it, huffing for breath. he rushes past you, and his presence inside your home makes your heart clench in ache.

your eyes shut. one breath in. one breath out. the door shuts softly. you follow him, stopping until you’re only a couple feet away from him.

oliver’s standing in the middle of your living room. “i know you’ve probably already seen it, but it’s not what it seems.”

you saw it alright. you saw the tweets, and the ongoing chaos taking over your feed. you’ve read each speculation, each nasty dig, and each sentence of support. you felt your heart crush. you’ve felt the last of your will disintegrate, all because of one of many article titles.

UBERS DEFENSIVE STAR OLIVER AIKU SPOTTED WITH SUPERMODEL AT DINNER

“it doesn’t matter.” you mumble to him, rubbing at your eyes. your head’s starting to hurt.

“just listen to me-”

“it doesn’t matter, oliver.” you repeat sternly, causing your boyfriend to blink.

his face contorts in confusion. “what? what do you mean it doesn’t matter?”

you don’t have the guts to look up. your gaze locks onto your feet. your tongue pokes around the inside of your cheeks.

“hey,” oliver tilts your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eyes. his hand slides to cup your cheek, and the gesture that was so common place in the past makes you sick. “talk to me, baby.”

such simple words, yet they cause you to break so ferociously.

“i’m so tired,” you whisper pathetically. the first of what is probably many tears slide down your face. “i’m tired of this, tired of us, tired of you.”

you can feel oliver’s hand falter against your skin. “huh? wait, baby, you’re not making any sense. i don’t get it. what are you-"

“there’s only so much i can take.” you cry, pushing his hand off you to wipe your cheeks. you can sense that he didn’t expect that. some sick part of you is proud that it wounds him. “i can’t keep making excuses for you. i can’t keep forgiving you. i can’t keep doing it. it’s killing me, oliver.”

“please. just let me-"

“no.” you shake your head. “just stop. don’t. i already know.”

“come on. you’re not being fair.”

those words make you laugh. “fair? of course it’s not fucking fair. i have to look at pictures of my boyfriend with other women. i have to watch the world speculate on whether you’ve settled down or if you’re in another fling. i have to take it all without uttering a single word.”

“but we both know what’s true. it doesn’t matter what they say.” oliver tries to reason, but it fails to work on you.

“if it doesn’t matter what they say, then why do you refuse to let them know about me?” you fire back. “if it doesn’t matter, then let them know i’m here. i’m the person you’ve settled down with. tell the world i’m yours. oliver, i’m right here.” your voice breaks.

oliver’s never looked so torn before. he’s caught in a mental battle. “i’m trying to protect you.”

you scoff with a shake of your head. “you’re not. i never asked to be protected by you, and even then, the protection that you swear you’re giving did nothing to prevent my heart from breaking. if anything, oliver, you’re protecting yourself.”

“in what way does this protect me?” his eyes are desperate and lost.

“you really don’t get it, do you?” you strain a smile. “i would hurt your reputation, wouldn’t i? because surely, i’m not the person who made infamous playboy oliver aiku fall head over heels in love because oliver aiku only hangs with actresses and supermodels and idols.

“you’re scared, scared of admitting that you’re with me because then that would make everything real, and that image you’ve curated for yourself would come crashing down. people will know to back off. your fans will stop trying to flirt with you as you sign whatever item they shove in your face.

“and we can’t have that, can we now, oliver? you thrive off of the attention. you’re fucking high on it, and i am the one person who can ruin it all.”

oliver reaches for your hands. his rough fingers caress yours. “baby, come on, that’s not true.”

“it’s not?” you challenge. “then you should be able to clear it, no? tell the world i’m here. tell them you belong to me, oliver.” you say these words through sobs.

your boyfriend’s thumbs stop tracing your skin, and he’s silent. it’s so heavy it could crush through the floor.

there it is — the final nail in the coffin.

you can’t even see him through your blurry vision, but your hands slip out of his grasp. you cast your head down, utterly defeated. “i think you should go, oliver.”

“(y/n). don’t do this. please, baby. let me fix this.” you’ve never heard him beg like this. it almost makes you surrender. it almost makes you pull him in for a kiss, a hug, or whatever would allow you to feel his familiar warmth, but you’re able to catch yourself.

“oliver, maybe one day someone will be able to handle hiding. maybe they’ll love you so much that they can bear it, but it’s not going to be me. not anymore.”

your words hang heavy in the air. they settle into your bones. and without another word, oliver cups your face in his hand. he places the most delicate kiss on your forehead.

you shut your eyes in fear that if you saw him, you would break all over again. you keep them shut as he backs up. his steps are slow across your floor. oliver stops at you assume to be your door.

“i’m sorry, (y/n). i-i love you.”

you’re not sure if that was his last resort in trying to fix this. it’s pathetic, but it nearly works. you have to bite your bottom lip to prevent it from trembling. a fresh wave of tears threatens to spill from your eyes. you wish you could say it back. you wish you could run into his arms, and oliver would whisper into your ear that everything is okay. but not all wishes can come true. you know you can’t cave.

instead, you clench your fists at your sides. you can’t turn back. one look at his face would break your resolve. you’ll have to bear the hauntings that come with the ‘what-if’s’.

“it’s too late for that.” you say instead.

for a moment, the stillness of the air makes you wonder if oliver had left. that is until you hear your front door shut. your eyes fly open.

one breath in.

one breath out.

and you finally let your cries carry throughout the room.

notes. thank you guys for 200 followers!! i threw this together as fast as i could just to have something to celebrate, but i’m writing this before sleeping so it’s probably ass. oliver might be ooc too so i apologize ab that in advance. i just really wanted to write for him lol. i only gave it one read over so forgive any mistakes i made. again, im too tired for this. hope you enjoyed!! i’ll see you in the next one <33

[couldyouimagine-that]

Saving Grace

Genre; action, hurt/comfort

Word count; 2.1k

Warnings; canon typical violence, arguing

Pairing; Lucifer (Supernatural) x Reader, Gabriel (Supernatural) x Reader

The reader and Team Free Will plus Gabriel and Lucifer are outnumbered by a legion of angels. Lucifer and Gabriel decide at the same time they need to protect the reader.

Another Lucifer and Gabriel story because I love writing the two of them. This was a really fun one!

Masterlist

-

The angels were everywhere. You were trapped in a warehouse full of them, each armed to the teeth with steel and fury. Castiel’s powers were completely gone, yet he fought on beside Sam and Dean. Your own angelic blade flashed in your hand, your movements practiced and almost automatic. But you were getting tired. This fight had been going on far too long – there shouldn’t even have been a fight to begin with. With Lucifer and Gabriel in the ring, the legions you faced should have been smoke in the air by now. You couldn’t understand how the angels trying to kill you had access to their powers, but the two archangels on your own side didn’t. From their halting looks of confusion when a snap of each of their fingers did nothing, neither did they.

That left all of you fighting hand to hand, and even with six of you, there were still too many to take on. You flung yourself around towards a torn cry of Dean’s name, seeing Castiel trying to wade through the fight towards your fallen friend. You and Sam quickly followed suit, but the angels closed rank. You couldn’t even see Dean; you had no way of knowing how badly hurt he was. Your only indication was that he didn’t get back up. Distracted in trying to lay eyes on him for just a moment, you felt a searing pain across your shoulder blade and back. The wound didn’t feel too deep, but a slash from angelic steel was excruciating. You stumbled, taking a glancing blow from your left that had your feet out from under you, and there was just enough time to see you would fall directly onto the tip of another angel blade –

The air around you fell silent and still.

Your breathing was ragged, the blood on your back soaking through your shirt. You had lost your weapon somewhere in the melee, your trembling hand instead clutching cloth. Someone gripped your other wrist, deadly silent. You forced your eyes open to see what your forehead was leaning against, almost reeling back when your mind supplied a person, a man, Lucifer. His arm encircled your waist to keep you steady and a second hand alighted on your uninjured shoulder. Lucifer was watching the space directly behind you with an unreadable expression. You turned your head as much as your rattled state would allow to find Gabriel holding your arm, staring back at his brother in exactly the same way. Gabriel broke first to look at you.

“You alright?” He asked cautiously, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes caught on your back. You swallowed harshly and tried to nod. Your grip on Lucifer’s jacket tightened and you were surprised that he let you lean against him more heavily as you tried to regain your bearings.

“What happened?” Your voice was hoarse even to your own ears.

“Fight got too much.” Lucifer sounded oddly subdued, enough so that you made the effort to straighten and see his face. His gaze was unfocused, though it snapped to you as he offered a short smile. “We decided to get out of there.”

You stepped back, finally, and cast around for your friends. You recognised the rusted hallways as one of the entrances to the main floor where you had been just moments prior, but Sam, Cas, and Dean were nowhere to be found. You thought back to what had happened just before you had been teleported out, a dark pit opening in your stomach. Movements frantic now, you located your blade and snatched it up from the grimy concrete floor.

“And what, you just left them there?”

You turned quickly between Gabriel and Lucifer, imploring either of them to prove you wrong. Of course, for once, they stayed quiet.

“Oh no, no, no-”

Injured shoulder be damned, you grit your teeth and set off at a sprint, shoving between your saviours. You knew they had just watched you go without even needing to see it. You careened round a corner and took out an unsuspecting angel standing guard, then on through a set of double doors and another corner. And this time, you skidded two a halt. Ten more angels, blades ready and moving as a singe military unit stood between you and saving your friends. You thought humourlessly that if you believed God truly cared, this would have been the moment you decided to pray. Instead, you let out a roar and charged at the one leading the way, walking slightly apart from the others. Those behind her were arranged in lines of three, shoulder to shoulder and completely blocking off the corridor.

You dispatched two quickly, but that gave the others time to circle around you. You turned to face each, trying to put on a show so they would know you weren’t afraid, that you could take them. You were, and you couldn’t. And they knew it. When three came at you simultaneously, you launched yourself towards the closest one, eyes shut as you prepared for the onslaught of agony which would inevitably lead to your death.

It never came.

You slammed your hands down over your ears at the overwhelming, high-pitched ringing which split straight through your skull. Your eyes narrowed to slits at the onslaught of piercing white light, but you were even more shocked once you could see again. The expanse of a perfect white wing curled around you, protecting you from your attackers. You traced its arch back to Lucifer, who had already killed the three angels nearest to you. You turned at a cry of pain from behind you, seeing Gabriel had just about taken care of the rest. Gabriel faced you with all the self-importance of a king.

“I just dragged your ass out of there and saved your life, and this is how you repay me, with a suicide mission?!”

“We, brother,” Lucifer corrected in a low, warning tone. His wing now seemed more like it was keeping you in place, rather than protecting you from harm. Your first instinct was to lash out at them both, but you tamped down on it. You needed to be practical and Gabriel was right – you would never get to your friends in time.

“How is it that they can use their powers, but you two can’t?” The archangels stopped their fighting before it could really get under way, each giving you an assessing look. “Cas is still cut off from heaven, right? So he can’t do anything anyway. That means they’ve done something specifically to block of the power of archangels.”  

You stepped back from Lucifer, gaze down, mind whirring. There shouldn’t have been anything powerful enough to tamp down on their abilities to start with, and you had never heard of anything that could filter out an archangel’s power but let through that of an ordinary angel. You thought through every sigil you had ever encountered, but not one of them fit. You couldn’t imagine it was a magical object, and even if this could be achieved with witchcraft, the angels wouldn’t deign to use it. That left –

“Got it! There’s warding somewhere, that’s blocking out most of your powers. It’ll be in Enochian, and there’s already so many angels here that I bet you weren’t able to sense it when we came in.” Again, they said nothing. “Come on, please – we need to find it before it’s too late!” They weren’t going to help. You were getting desperate, but pleading for their help had no effect. A scream pierced through into the corridor and you lost what little sense you had left. “You both cared enough to pull me out of there. If you care about me at all, you’ll help me find that warding!”

Gabriel looked from you to Lucifer, and some sort of silent understanding seemed to pass between them. You blinked and they were both gone, and moments later, so were the sounds of fighting from the main floor. Heart in your throat, you sprinted for the entrance. The corridor flew past, yet it seemed that your every step lasted a decade. Rusted old hinges shrieked when you shoved open the doors and burst into the warehouse, to find it almost empty.

Dean was curled over, just barely holding himself off the floor on his elbows. Castiel was on his knees in front of him, blade held forward defensively and his free hand behind him, hovering by Dean’s shoulder. Sam was still on his feet a few paces away.

“What happened?” Dean groaned roughly, trying to look around to see where the angels had gone. You swallowed when you realised that the shadows floating towards the ceiling and gathering in the corners of the room weren’t shadows at all. They were the dust that was left of the angels themselves.

Your steps echoed loudly as you ran towards your friends. You felt certain your relief was palpable, but the others were as wary as you had ever seen them.

“Where’d they go?” Dean tried again, slowly sitting himself up. Castiel looked as if he wanted nothing more in the world than to reach for the injured hunter and fold him into an embrace. The soft flap of wings signalled the return of Lucifer and Gabriel, and Sam took a few defensive steps forward in front of his brother.

“Ah, you’re welcome,” Lucifer intoned expectantly, staring directly at you. Castiel turned to him, saw the direction of his gaze, and leaned towards you immediately, voice urgent.

“Y/N, what did you do?”

“Nothing, Cas. It’s fine-” His hand landed on your shoulder, grip tight, as if trying to convince you of an imminent threat you didn’t believe was there.

“What did you agree to?”

“Nothing!” You took a deep, calming breath. “I realised there was some kind of warding around this place that was allowing all of the angels to access their powers, but not the archangels. You three were surrounded, and Gabriel and Lucifer found the warding, dismantled it, and destroyed the angels who were attacking us. That’s it.”

Dean groaned as he sat further up and Castiel’s concern became split between the two of you. He moved back a little towards Dean, supporting the hunter’s back even when he tried to wave Castiel away. He was too weak to manage.

“You’re not hurt,” Dean ground out, less of a question and more of a confirmation. You nodded, the yes quiet in the back of your throat. “Then what happened to you? Cause you disappeared and I thought one of ‘em had taken you down.”

You found yourself faltering. Lucifer, the devil himself, and Gabriel, two of the only four archangels to have ever existed, had decided simultaneously that your puny little human life was worth saving? You, the only human of untold billions to have lived throughout time that not one, but either of them had ever cared enough to save – you couldn’t even believe the words in your own mind. Dean prompted you again when you failed to answer and you still couldn’t come up with a reply. Aside from being unbelievable, you doubted Lucifer at the very least would want you to tell the Winchesters and Castiel of all beings what he had done, presumably on the spur of the moment. becoming uncomfortable in the silence with everyone’s eyes on you, you looked over to Gabriel for support, preferring your chances with getting help from him than his brother. He seemed to sigh silently.

“They almost did.” Gabriel watched you cautiously as everyone turned to him. “I was close enough to get Y/N out of the way in time.”

“And what about him?” Dean gave a disparaging tilt of his head in Lucifer’s direction.

“What, you thought I was just gonna let my little bro walk out of a fight without following?”

That wasn’t what had happened; Lucifer had been trying to save you too. But you certainly weren’t going to say anything, and it seemed that neither was Gabriel.

Dean still seemed suspicious, but there were other more important things at hand. Sam and Castiel helped him to his feet. Gabriel snapped his fingers and you all instantly appeared back at the bunker. Your head swirled from the chosen method of long-distance transportation and you pitched to the side, reaching out for the nearest available object to stop yourself from falling. When you straightened after a moment of regaining your bearings, it was to see Lucifer smiling smugly down at you. He held his forearm parallel to the ground in such a way that you were leaning on it without drawing anyone else’s attention. You apologised quietly and stepped back in time to see Gabriel staring at his brother yet again. Somehow, you felt sure that having gained the attention of them both couldn’t lead to a good end.

[monamourbladie]

hi!! <3 im the anon who req the dan heng headcanons.. TYSM IT WAS AMAZING!!! OmG OMG OMG best idea ever. well not best idea ever. but imagine like blade is super distant and cold towards you as he normally is, right? but he secretly likes the reader for plot purposes. but one day, the reader is js like "oh well" and talks to someone else for a change, having fun w the other person instead of blade since blade 'doesnt' like them. would blade just stand there and watch knowing he cant rightfully do anything since it was partly his fault (and he has too much pride for himself), or would he try to get you to talk to him again?

HI ANON AHH tysm for the requests :D i’m glad you enjoyed it so much~! that’s a great idea i was so excited to write this one i tried to write it as fast as possible LOL

Secretly Loves You - Blade x F!reader

warnings: none~

You had been apart of the Stellaron Hunters for about a year now. You had grown the closest with Silver Wolf, as you both shared an intense love of games. You were picked up from their time on the Xianzhou Luofu for your healing capabilities and quickly became a core member of the crew.

Elio liked you and so did Sam, Silver Wolf adored you and Kafka respected you. But the person who you wanted to like you the most seemed to despise you.

Blade — Kafka’s golden boy (you always swore they had something for each other, but neither ever confirmed it and nobody could guess if they were together or not) Fierceness aside, he was absolute eye candy to you.

Blade was extremely closed off — it’s been like that since day one. It took him months and months to warm up to Silver Wolf (and now he treats her like an irritating little sister that he secretly adores but claims he hates), and even though it’s been almost a full year, you haven’t been able to break through to him just yet.

You didn’t exactly know why. It wasn’t like he was talkative and excitable to everyone else by any means, but he definitely showed at least some kind of enjoyment speaking with people. With you? It seemed like he absolutely hated you.

Maybe it was the fact that he hated being nursed back to health due to him wanting to die so badly. You never understood that, and were just simply doing your job to protect him.

You’ve lost count by now of how many times he complained to you about helping him was unnecessary. It irritated you, but you always smiled at him and told him you were just doing your job.

“I told you, I don’t need your help,” he grunted as you rubbed special Xianzhou healing oils on his back. You bit your lip as you continued to massage it into his skin, “Do you ever not complain?” you said teasingly as you pat his back playfully.

He only grunted in response. He hated having you see him like this. He was shirtless on the med bay table, sitting up with his chest bandage off for once. His upper chest was heavily scarred and destroyed from all the times Jingliu killed him over and over again. The first time you saw those wounds, you were determined to try and heal them so he wasn’t forced to wear as many bandages on the daily.

You were using special Xianzhou healing oils to increase the healing speed — and within a few months, you were noticing small bits of healthier skin, showing it was working.

“Complain all you want, Bladie, but it’s actually working to help you.” He glanced back at her with a glare, “I told you not to call me that, L/n.” His voice was bitter and cold as always to you.

It hurt, but eventually you grew thicker skin to it. It hurt especially because over the months you began to harbor a nasty crush on the immortal man.

Silver Wolf loved to tease you about it, and swore she would help get you two together. But little interactions like these with Blade helped cement in your mind that there was no way he saw you as anything more than an annoying healer.

What you didn’t know was that Blade actually harbored feelings for you, too.

Due to his painful past, he was very adamant about not getting close to anyone again out of fear he’d lose everyone he loves again — especially a lover.

He thought you were absolutely beautiful. He secretly loved the extra attention you were giving him, and although he wanted nothing more than eternal rest, he was thankful that you were giving him a distraction from the pain.

He just had no idea how to tell you. He had a reputation with the Hunters as being the cold and brooding one. He definitely wasn’t sure how to approach a girl he liked and say “Hey, I like you” without feeling like an absolute pathetic fool.

It stayed this way for months. Neither of you saying anything to the other that would let the other know you like each other. Until eventually, a new member on the medical team started to work for the Hunters — a man named Leon.

Leon was everything Blade was hoping he could be for you. He was handsome, he was nice, gentlemanly — he was attentive to you and could speak his heart. You and him quickly became close, and there were even some moments where Leon took care of Blade instead of you.

He absolutely was growing jealous over the man. Some nights Blade wondered if he could just kill Leon and get on with it and swoop you off of your feet, but being a romantic was not Blade’s strong suit by any means.

His final straw finally made him snap to go to Kafka for advice. After his weekly checkup with you, he got home and realized his bandages weren’t tight enough around his chest, so he had to go back to the med bay. As he walked back to the med bay he froze, seeing you kissing Leon from a distance.

He felt his anger consume him and he decided to just deal with the loose bandage and fix it himself. He stormed off as he felt the Mara flare up within him, making him angrier than he normally would’ve been.

Of course you’re moving on. Why wouldn’t you? He never made any move on you to let you know he liked you. Why would you risk waiting around when a perfect man for you was right there?

Blade found himself at Kafka’s door as he knocked. She opened it and frowned seeing Blade angry, “Bladie? What’s wrong?” she asked.

Blade pushed himself in the door and slammed it behind him, huffing in frustration, “Can I just fucking kill Leon already?”

Kafka raised as brow as she motioned for him to sit down on her couch. “You can’t kill the rookie. Why do you want to?”

Blade unbuttoned his shirt and jacket and slid it off of his arms, revealing his bandaged chest. “Can you fix these for me? Y/n’s too busy getting fucked to deal with it.”

Kafka bit her lip as she smirked. “Am i sensing jealousy from you? Over Y/n and the rookie?”

He grumbled as he shook his head, running his fingers through his tousled hair, “Would you just leave it and fix this shit for me?”

Kafka raised her hands in defense as she sat behind him, beginning to unravel the bandages. “You just want it tighter, right?”

“Yes,” he muttered, looking out at the photo of them all on her wall.

Blade, Elio, Sam, Silver Wolf, Kafka, and Y/n were in it. He felt his heart ache seeing her so happy beside Silver Wolf. She looked just as happy in the photo as she did leaning in to kiss Leon.

The image of them kissing was seared in his brain, and it made him angrier the more he thought of it.

Kafka, whose used her Spirit Whisper on Blade long enough to understand when he was angry, rest her hand on his shoulder. “Blade. Talk with me. Why are you so angry right now?” she asked, her voice gentle with him.

He was silent for a moment before realizing this might be his only shot for help. He sighed, “…It’s about Y/n. I… I like her,” he said, his gravelly voice low and soft as he spoke. Kafka was the only person he felt comfortable opening up around.

“And I’m angry that she can’t see that. She knows I have a hard time expressing myself. So why couldn’t she tell?” Kafka unintentionally let out a laugh at his commentary.

He turned around, glancing back at her confused, “You’re laughing at me? Seriously, Kafka?”

“No — it’s just… have you even attempted to tell her that you like her? Everything I ever see, you’re ignoring her, glaring at her when her back is turned, and badmouthing her whenever you’re alone with her and she’s patching you up. It hurts her, Bladie. I refuse to believe that you think you’ve made your feelings clear,” she replied.

Blade blinked in confusion. “But I like her. I don’t treat anyone differently than that.”

“Are you even aware of how many people think we’re dating?” Kafka asked him. “I’m sure she thinks we’re dating, too. She probably gave up and moved on with that rookie.”

“Gave up? Does she like me too?” Blade asked quickly, feeling a slight glimmer of hope. Kafka shrugged, “It’s so obvious. She definitely gave up trying since you made no effort to show you were interested.”

“Well — help me out, what am I supposed to do now? Did I fuck up already and lose her to that damn rookie?” he asked her.

Kafka sighed, sitting back against the couch. “I don’t know. I’d recommend asking her tomorrow and just pray that you have a chance still. I know you really like her.”

Blade grumbled at this and nodded, grasping at his shirt and sliding it back on over his head now that Kafka had finished bandaging him up.

“Yeah, well. I don’t know if I’m that lucky. She was kissing him and seemed to be very happy with it,” he said with a bitter tone. “Thanks.”

“If it comes to it, I can always pull strings and check with Elio-“

“No,” he said firmly, standing up to leave. “I don’t want to know the answer.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The next day sometime after lunch, Blade headed to the cafeteria with his heart pounding. He had never felt this anxious before, not for a long, long time.

Just tell her you like her. She’s just confused, that’s all. It’ll be fine…

He saw you sitting alone at one of the cafeteria benches, obviously on your lunch break. He took in a breath and walked over, sitting across from you.

You looked up from your data pad and smiled, “Hi, Blade. Did you need me to fix your bandages already?” you asked sweetly.

He was embarrassed that he felt his cheeks burn from the kindness in your voice. “No. That won’t be necessary. Kafka fixed them last night.”

Your smile visibly fell a bit and Blade cringed at himself. “Oh, Kafka… right. Well, what did you need?”

“I’m not with Kafka,” he said quickly. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“Wrong idea?” you raised a brow, curious as to where he was going. “Wrong idea about… you and Kafka?” you muttered. He could sense a bit of irritancy on your end at the thought of them together.

“Right. We’re not. But… you and that Rookie. Leon, right? Are you?” he questioned. You seemed surprised that he asked and you let out a soft nervous laugh, “W-well, no… but. I mean, it’s complicated, I guess.” you took a sip of your drink as Blade tensed up.

“I want us to be, because the guy I like really, really doesn’t like me. So I’m just cutting my losses and trying to move on, I guess. It just so happens Leon has an interest in me. I’m just anxious to make the jump,” you confessed. There was no way he’d figure out it was him, so you felt comfortable saying it.

“Don’t,” Blade quickly said. “Don’t date Leon.” You furrowed your brows at him, “I’m sorry, why do you care? As far as I’m aware, you hate being around me. Quite frankly, I’m shocked you’re even speaking to me right now.”

Blade felt offended that you believed so strongly that he hated you. “You think I hate you? Why the hell do you think that?” he questioned.

“Because you’re always so cold and closed off towards me! You always are grumpy whenever you have to speak to me and have me work on you, you’re closed off and never speak to me unless you absolutely have to, and it honestly hurts! I don’t know why you treat me this way, but I’m tired of it.”

Blade felt like a total idiot hearing you open up like that. Kafka really was right…

“I don’t… I don’t hate you,” he said quietly, averting his eyes out of embarrassment. “I like you, Y/n. I just had no idea how to deal with it. I figured you’d just… know.”

You couldn’t help your eyes widen at his confession. “You mean to tell me this entire time I’ve been trying to get over you, you just assumed I knew you liked me?” you gawked.

“Yes?” Blade replied. It was so obvious that he was so, so bad at relationships but clearly was trying hard. You could only giggle at this, shaking your head. “Jesus, Blade, you’re really something, aren’t you?”

Blade wasn’t really so sure how to answer your comment. You started to smile, “So, since you don’t want me to go out with Leon… I’m assuming you want to take me out on a date instead, right?” you asked.

Blade felt his cheeks flush again as he nodded, “I would love to.”

You smiled and stood up, walking over to him and leaning in. “I get off of work in 4 hours. Meet me at my room at 6, okay?” you said, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

You were shocked to see the man actually blush at your action. He looked up at you with a smile and nodded, “…Okay. I’ll see you at 6.”

[iliketangerines]

Would you be able to write something with mk11 Liu Kang and female reader? Where reader was almost killed in a fight but Liu Kang manages to save them in time? And as he's treating her wounds he confesses his feelings for her and they have sweet and emotional sex?

Thank you in advance! It's amazing how many requests you post a day on top of uni. Keep up the good work! I get so excited when I see that you posted something new :)

a new love

a/n: i need them BOTH NEOWWW

pairing: liu kang x afab!reader x kitana

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), face sitting, chest play, grinding

you can hear cheering all about you, muffled behind the ringing in your ears as you clutch at your side, blood seeping into your armor and leaking onto the ground

the pain burns you, spreading through your body slowly like a poison, and you can feel your heartbeat pounding against your chest much too quickly to be normal

the world is hot and sweaty, too much and too little at the same time as the ringing in your ears fades in and out with the sound of ragged breaths

a hand places itself on your shoulder, and you flinch at the contact and draw your weapon as you blink at the person, trying to find the energy to continue fighting

you hear the familiar voice of Kitana, warbly and dull, and the silhouette of Liu Kang joins the fuzzy figure of Kitana’s as you fall down to the ground on one knee

looking down at the blood pouring from your side, you try and put your hand over the wound to stop the bleeding

and yet, your own hand is too heavy to lift as your eyes begin to close, and you can feel someone touching you, lifting you, cradling your head

it feels so familiar and safe, warm and comforting to be in the hands of whoever is holding you, and you let your weapon fall to the floor as your eyes close and let darkness take your consciousness

when you wake up, it’s the high rise ceilings of medical ward in the Outworld palace, and you groan as your head pounds with pain

you attempt to sit up and hiss through your teeth at the pain that shoots through you as you do so, and you struggle to breathe for a second as you sit up and pull your shirt up to assess the damage

a sizable bandage covers yours torso, and you probably just broke something considering the blood that had started to seep through the bandages

there’s a creak as the doors to the medical wing open, and you spot Kitana and Liu Kang conversing with each other and holding some food

although Liu Kang looks rather strange with glowing white hair and eyes and tattoos, but you could recognize his face anywhere

both of them stop as they realize you’re sitting up, and then in an instant, they’re both next to you, pushing you down and checking on your bandages

Kitana scolds you, telling you to be more careful, and Liu Kang frowns and asks if you feel okay, if anything felt out of place, if the bed was comfortable enough

you wave the both of them, saying that you were fine, that you’re a warrior and you would survive a simple stab wound

Kitana growls at that, saying that it wasn’t just a simple stab wound and that it was no laughing matter

Liu Kang crosses his arms and nods his head as Kitana goes on and on about how you should be more careful with your wounds and your defensive positions

eventually, she runs out of breath and criticisms and pinches the bridge of her nose and looks at you, saying in a soft voice that she was very worried about you

the champion chimes in, saying that the both of them had been very worried about your state of health and that you had been out for almost two weeks

he continues, saying that your wound wasn’t even healing properly for at least a week, festering with diseases and what not, and that it had only started to heal properly only a few days ago

you look between the two of them, and you mumble out that you’ll be more careful next time Shao Kahn comes around

Liu Kang glances at Kitana before looking back to you saying that Shao Kahn was no more, Kitana was Kahn now

your head whips to her, and she smiles and nods at you as your mouth drops open into a smile and you laugh and squeeze her hand

she laughs with you and can’t help it as she dips her head in close and plants a kiss on your lips, and you lean into it, melting into the touch

her hand comes up to cup the back of your head to bring you in a little closer, and you sigh into the kiss and bring your own hand up to cup her face

she’s warm and soft, familiar and comforting, and you want to pull her into your arms to get even closer, to press yourself against her and feel her completely

but then she pulls back, eyes filled with wonder as she looks at you, and she whispers quietly that she’s missed you

Liu Kang pouts at you and asks where’s his kiss, and you laugh and say that he can get one any time he wants to

immediately, he leans down and presses a kiss to your lips as well, eyelashes tickling your cheek as his eyes flutter close at the feeling of you against him

he pulls away after a few moments, and he mutters that although he and Kitana would love to hold you closer, you needed to heal for a few more weeks

you frown at the two of them, opening your mouth to protest, but the both of them shoot you a glare and you settle back down in the cot without a single word

Kitana then adds on that Liu Kang was a god now, and you nearly shoot out of bed at the comment

the next few weeks are torturous as you heal, the two of them barely touch you, treating you as if you were glass, and you were frankly had gotten over the doting after the first few days

you were an Edenian warrior, powerful and great and experienced with fighting and war, you could handle yourself just fine

the nurse looks up at you and clears you for fighting again, and they leave the room as Liu Kang and Kitana help you up from the bed

smacking their hands away, you grab your belongings and storm out of the room back to your bedroom, frustrated that they were treating you like a child

you throw your items back into their places angrily and dress yourself in your training outfit, determined to blow off some steam and prove that you weren’t helpless

as you pull on the last part of your training robes, Kitana and Liu Kang walk into the room and glance at each other and then at your furrowed brows and how your fists clench angrily

Liu Kang asks what’s wrong, and you hiss at him and tell the both of them to leave you alone and that you’re going to train

Kitana grabs onto your arm and pulls you back, asking why the hell you’re acting like a brat, and you scowl right back at her and say that you’re a fully grown adult warrior, you do not need to be doted on like a child

the champion sighs and asks what they’ve done wrong, they want to fix whatever mistake that they’ve made, and you turn to them with an expression of disbelief

you step closer to them, pointing an accusatory finger in their direction, and you list every single thing that they’ve done to baby you, barely touching you, treating you like a fragile little thing, like you can’t protect yourself

you’re frustrated, you just wanted to be with them and be close to them and have them close to you, and yet they kept on avoiding every time you reached out for them, only ever touching you to change your bandages

it had left pent-up energy in your body, sexual frustration and anger at the both of them, and you were tired of them acting like you couldn’t handle yourself

breathing heavily, you sigh and unclench your fists and press the back of your hand into your forehead, and you take a second to just stare up at the ceiling and gather your thoughts

you look back at them, and Liu Kang looks sad, lips turned downward in a frown and brows furrowed

Kitana, on the other hand, looks hard and all edges, none of the softness of Liu Kang, lips pursed and eyes glinting in the light like a predator’s

she steps toward you, Liu Kang following behind her, and she tilts your chin up with her finger, asking if you were done

Liu Kang comes up behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder, arms coming up to circle around your waist and kiss apologies into your neck

she says that her and Liu Kang had been careful with you because you had been on the brink of death, you had died

you blink at her and let out a small what in disbelief, and Kitana sighs and puts her hands on her hips, looking down and grimacing before finally looking back up at you

your heartbeat had stopped for a minute, you had technically died in front of Liu Kang and Kitana as they carried you to the medical wing, there was blood splattered all over the ground, a trail that had taken a whole day to clean up because of how much there was

they thought that you didn’t survive in the fight that they had caused, and for weeks they had thought you were never going to wake up

neither of them want to risk accidentally hurting you again because they’re scared of hurting you, and Kitana looks away as she finishes, huffing as she holds back tears

none of you speak for a moment as you take in the seriousness of what had happened to you, and you bring your hands to hold Liu Kang’s shaking ones

you can feel his tears on your shoulder, and you look at Kitana, mumbling that you didn’t know

she takes in a shaky breath, saying that you were right though, you are a very capable fighter, one of the best in Sun Do and that she and Liu Kang shouldn’t have diminished your ability to fight because of their own fears

stepping closer to you, she raises one of her hands up to cradle your face and asks you to let them make it up to you, and you breathe out an okay

Kitana nearly throws herself into you as she smashes her lips into yours, one hand continuing to cradle your face and the other on your shoulder, nails digging into the soft skin

Liu Kang behind you resumes his kisses to your skin, hands moving so that they rested on your waist, and he squeezes it, sighing into your skin that he missed you, that he loved you

you can barely hear him over the sound of your own noises as Kitana kisses you breathless, only pulling away to give herself air

she pulls your forehead to rest on hers, panting and letting your breaths mingle as Liu Kang whines for attention as well

you turn your head to the side, and he meets you with his lips, pulling you into a soft kiss and moaning into your mouth

Kitana’s hands slides along your body, squeezing at your chest and making your knees buckle as she slides her hands up and under your shirt to pinch at your nipples

Liu Kang hums and pulls away, staring at you with those soft eyes, and he whispers that they should move to the bed

you nod in agreement, head already spinning from being surrounded on both sides, and Liu Kang picks you up, hooking one of his thick arms underneath the bend of your knees and the other underneath your back

holding onto him for balance, he deposits you on the bed so that you’re flat on your back before going back to kissing you, his weight pressing into you

your hand reaches out blindly, and you can feel the familiar weight of Kitana’s hand in yours and squeeze it as Liu Kang desperately kisses you

it’s messy and wet, teeth clacking against each other and breathless pants before moving in for more, but neither of you can find yourselves caring at the lack of air

he rips at your clothes, the fabric burning in his hands as he stares at your chest and moves to dip his head low and press his tongue to your nipple

his hand ghosts over the scar on your side, and you shiver, making him whine into your skin and look up at you in worry

you whisper that it’s okay, just feels sensitive, and he nods, holding onto your side gently as he starts to suck hickeys into your chest

Kitana tilts your head to look at her, and you squirm underneath Liu Kang’s weight, wanting to please her as well

she laughs at your impatience and tells you to be still, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go of it and pulling back

the complaint dies in your throat as you watch her undress, revealing her lean body to you, muscle hidden in its thinness, and she crawls up onto the bed and asks if you wanna please her

you nod at her, whimpering out a please, and she laughs and says that she thought so before coming over and straddling your face while facing Liu Kang

she slowly lowers herself onto your face, and you bring your arms up to hook around your thighs to bring her even closer

your tongue comes out to fuck into her pussy, and you moan at her taste, having missed her, the weight, the taste, the pleasure

Liu Kang wraps his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around it before lightly nipping at the sensitive bud with his teeth, and it makes you jolt and lose concentration for just a moment

Kitana hums as your tongue stops moving briefly, and she lets you regain your concentration, riding your face as Liu Kang teases your chest

you can barely concentrate with Liu Kang biting and kissing at your chest, moving to the other nipple and giving it attention while Kitana rides your face

the lack of air only makes everything more intense

it’s like you’re breathing in pleasure as you feel Kitana grind her hips further into you, and you happily let her use you for her own pleasure as you use your tongue to fuck her

the feeling settles into your lungs, spreading down your veins slowly into your stomach, pooling and building, and your thighs squeeze uselessly around Liu Kang’s waist to try and get some friction on your needy clit

he moans into your skin as you squeeze his waist with your legs, and he bites into the skin of your chest harshly as Kitana moans loudly, cumming on your face

it’s all you need to cum in your own pants, lapping at Kitana’s taste and squeeze her thighs with your arms, and you try to ride out your high on Liu Kang

however, he doesn’t seem to notice your own desperation, too lost in his own task on littering your skin with his marks, and your orgasm sputters out, making you whine and sob and twitch underneath his grasp

Kitana lifts herself up off your face, and you whine again at the loss of her warmth

she comes around to smile at you, telling you did so well for her before going to Liu Kang and grabbing his hair to pull his head up

he whines at the feeling, looking to Kitana, and she says that they were making it up to you, not to pleasure just themselves, so why did he ignore you to chase his own selfish needs

the words take a second to settle into his brain, and he looks to you with a downcast look and mumbles out an apology

Kitana tells him to get on the bed, on his back, and he follows the order quickly

she helps you get up onto your shaky legs and tells you to remove his pants, and you do so with clumsy fingers, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach

slowly, Kitana straddles his waist and orders you to grind against his cock, and you do so, biting your lip at the feeling of the head of his cock pressing into your clit

your slick covers his cock as you start to grind against him involuntarily, and she coos at you, telling you that you’re doing amazing and to take what you need

you grab onto her shoulders for balance as you whine and chase your own pleasure, and Kitana chuckles, grinding against Liu Kang’s abs

she groans at the feeling, slapping away Liu Kang’s hands and telling him that he’s not allowed to touch her and you and that he’s not to cum until she tells him to

he whines but obliges, panting and gripping onto the sheets as you grind against his cock, the tip bumping against your clit and making you keen

you grind your hips down further, too lost in your own pleasure, and Kitana grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss

moaning into her mouth, you cum on Liu Kang’s cock quickly, still sensitive from the precious one, letting your cum cover his cock and drip down onto the sheets and his waist

it only makes it easier to grind against him as you ride out your high, and Liu Kang keens underneath you to, begging Kitana to cum

she ignores him, continuing to ride his abs as she kisses you, and she whispers praises to you as you slow down and pant for air

Kitana bites her lip as she cums again on Liu Kang’s abs, sighing at the feeling and grinding her hips faster against him

he begs again, please, and she lets her orgasm die down first, getting up off of him and helping you off of him and to lie next to him

she grins at the champion, telling him to stretch you out for his cock, show you how sorry he is for neglecting you earlier, and he eagerly shuffles until your thighs are resting on his shoulders and his tongue assaults your sensitive clit

as his fingers thrust into you and you whine, Kitana leaves the bed and rummages around in the drawer before pulling out her strap

you eye her as she attaches it to herself, and she crawls back up to you, saying that they were going to make it up to you tonight

none of you are seen for the rest of the day

[tokoyamisstuff]

Fragments Pt. 2/3

Homelander / GN! Reader

Ch. 2: Lab Rat

Summary: Unfortunately Homelander's powers reawake earlier than his memory of how to control them.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of HL's past, PTSD, DID, cussing, blood, unhealthy relationship dynamics, death of animals

A/N: as a little treat for you guys, this chapter got extra long (: tbh I still haven't watched the show, let me live

The following weeks passed by rather quick and uneventful - albeit it wouldn't calm down your nerves at all.

You had been on high alert for a while, fearing the worst case scenario: That whoever did this to John would come and finish the job. It did not happen in the end, so the enemy either believes him to be dead already, or was certain the lethal environment would do the rest.

What worried you right now however was the fact that nobody seemed to be searching for your acquaintance.

Locals would come to deliver supplies occasionally, and at some point you handed them a USB with a photo and the little data you knew about John. Hopefully the old - and only - shared computer in the townshall had a good enough internet connection to spread the missing person report for as many people as possible to see.

John had been joking a lot recently, about how he might've been a terrible person and people would be glad that he disappeared - but you knew deep down, he feared there might actually be some truth in his words.

One thing was sure: He could be irritating to a point where one wants to punch his pretty face in - and he's not even aware of that fact.

Over time, you noticed a lot of subtle hints to his former personality: Like his almost neurotic need for praise and attention. It seemed like he didn't even know how to simply exist by himself - for example, sometimes you came home from an expedition, and he just sat at the same spot you've left him, awaiting you almost a little too excited.

To his defense, it was hard to avoid each other in a single-room apartment. And since you had brought only the most essential things for your survival, there wasn't really that much to do either way.

Most of the day he'd follow you around, insisting that he wanted to be useful despite his condition. He was touchy - not in an indecent way, but rather starved for closeness. Always accidentally brushing his hand against yours, leaning his chin atop of your head or hugging you if he was feeling particulary happy about something.

And while hesistant at the beginning, the more you tolerated it the more he dared.

Also, his almost nonexistent empathy and lack of emotional maturity in general was infuriating. You really felt like talking to a giant toddler sometimes -but as odd as it sounds, he reacted to your scolding and listened to instructions surprisingly well.

And oh, he sure loves the sound of his own voice. His opinions unnerved you to no end, yet the way he was talking about certain topics sounded awfully like he was just repeating things someone else had drilled him to believe, without ever understanding or even caring enough to verify.

You really wondered what kind of life John had led before all of this.

Curiosity kills the cat, or so they say.

A doctor had already arrived at your remote location two days after the initial snowstorm had settled. He had complimented you for properly caring for the wounds despite your limited knowledge and ressources, and John gladly joined him in enskying you.

Since then, there wasn't much more to do than continuing treatment until his wounds would heal - which they did surprisingly fast, much to your mutual relief.

The drug John inhaled had eliminated a great portion of the Compound V in his system, but not completely. And as you could now observe first hand, the residue was able to multiply again.

That could only mean the rest of his powers would slowly but steadily return as well, right?

"NO! It burns, it burns please STOP!"

John's desolate scream made you bolt up from your sleep, instantly rushing to his side. He was experiencing nightmares very frequently, and after the past couple of tries to wake him up, you knew better than to touch him.

"John..." you whisper to not startle him, hesistantly approaching the man cowering on his bed. "It's not real. You're dreaming, you're safe. Nothing can hurt you! Follow my voice. Please, wake up..."

He was sobbing frantically, heartbrakingly even. A perfect image of misery, hugging himself in a desperate attempt to erase that awfully vivid sensation of being burned alive.

Whatever had happened to him, the suffering was imprinted so deep inside of his soul that he was forced to relive it even after alledgedly losing all memories.

You repeat the affirmating words like a mantra, tears involuntarily creeping to the rim of your eyes as well. Eventually his breaths would even out and he was able to come down to reality again, recognizing you through wettened lashes.

Shame washed over him, now feeling as if he'd drown rather than burning. He was pathetic, even without this creepy psycho shit already - a nuisance to you who had given him nothing but kindness.

"I'm sorry." His eyes darted around the room - anywhere but your face - but he was certain that you were shooting him that damn pitying look again "Didn't mean to wake you..."

John's voice was hoarse from screaming, his coughing prompting you to hand him the water on the nightstand. "No problem, really. Don't worry about it."

"You're being too naive" he mumbled, his hand lingering on yours for a bit longer than necessary as you handed him the glass. "Nursing a stranger to health...I mean, I could as well be lying about my anmnesia."

"And there I was thinking you had a way with words" you snorted, defendingly crossing your arms in front of your chest. "No offense, but you don't seem like the bright type. Besides: If you wanted to do something awful to me, you had all the time in the world and no witnesses, so..."

Eager to prove your trust, out of a whim you hopped next to him, the springs of the mattress creaking under the additional weight. Until now, despite his protest, you chose to sleep on a very uncomfortable sofa, offering him the bed since he was still not fully restored.

"You're incorrigible..." he sighed, a little taken aback by the sudden invasion of personal space, mentally adding "...but an amazing person."

"I'm not even sure if I want to remember" he tells himself rather than you, mumbling into the pillow. Whenever he tried there was a mental block, some kind of tug in his heart that felt like regaining it would cost him greatly. "Those dreams...I'm terrified to find out what they truly mean."

"Your past only defines you if you let it." Wow, that sounded way less corny in your head. "Whatever happens, you won't get rid of me that easily, I promise."

"Sounds more like a threat" he smirks, daring to shuffle a little closer.

After a while of comfortable silence between the two of you, John was the first one to look away from the ceiling, staring at you instead. He was still shaking, unable to decipher whether the lump in his throat was caused by his night terror or something else.

"...I mean you could stay here." John's voice was barely audible, as if to test your reaction first. "Better than that goddamn brick of a sofa."

You glared at him, eyes shooting daggers. "Next time we're in the field, you get a snowball right into that handsome face." He snickered at your attempt to be strict, his smugness returning already. "Oh, so you think I'm handsome, huh?"

Gosh, that man was obnoxious - and yet, even though you'd rather die than to admit, he made you jittery beyond belief. "That doesn't give you the right to do or say whatever you want, you know?"

"Didn't deny it" he winked, yet raised his hands in defense. "C'mon, I'm not trying something shady. It's just- forget it."

"...talking about incorrigible" you uttered, after looking at him dumbfounded until you finally understood. "If you feel more comfortable this way, then sure."

John nodded mutely, cracking an embarrassed smile that you couldn't help but mirror. You slid under the covers with him, the dimmed lights only worsening this awkward situation.

"Y/N?" You hqd almost dozed off already when you heard his voice again, yet it was too dark to decipher his features. "Mhh?"

"...thank you. For everything, really."

Asides from his healing factor, his heightened senses were the next thing that had returned - and they made him notice things you probably weren't even aware of yourself.

Just like right now.

That mixture of pheromones in your scent, together with an increased heartrate whenever you were close...it was unlike anything he had ever perceived, even without knowing his history he was sure of that fact.

Was this chemical reaction equal to what people called love?

And yet you never acted on those desires, for it would be terribly wrong in every way. The man next to you was in a vulnerable state no one should take advantage of. Not to mention that you didn't really know this person. He could as well be having a partner or family somewhere, and you had no intention to become a homewrecker.

So you continued reminding yourself about his negative aspects, tried to convince yourself that anyone would be feeling like this after being isolated together for so long.

Shit, can't he just hurry up and remember?

Much to your shock, you wake up entangled in both the blanket and John's embrace the next morning. He had an arm and leg wrapped around you, effectively trapping you in his hold.

Instead of freaking out or kicking him off the bed, you decide to simply close your eyes again and enjoy this blissful state. His breathing was warm against your skin, and he also seemed very peaceful in his sleep in huge contrast to usually.

After a few more minutes, his soft snores disappeared. John was confused, never having felt this well-rested in forever.

"Ah shi- I'm sorry-" before he could retract his arm, you held onto it and snuggled even closer against his chest. "Who said you could stop?"

"Oh...oh." he grinned cheekily, jawning as his head nuzzled against your neck. "Well, good morning then."

"You sure this is a good idea?" Turning to look at him, you get some messy strands of hair out of his face. "Coming with me today, I mean."

Up until now, you had avoided taking him to your laboratory, even though the two buildings were connected via a tunnel. Usually he only helped you carry stuff, do the household horribly wrong or assist you collect specimen in the wild.

But for someone who was having nightmares about a strange laboratory to come with you..."just stay here, watch a movie or something. I won't take long."

"Ugh, you don't even have any supe movies that could help me remember" he grimaced, "just some boring woke stuff."

There's no telling what this man thinks sometimes. "You just don't have any taste. Supe movies are brainless cash-cows."

"Nerd" he purrs, leading your hand to his head again, looking at you pleadint to continue massaging his scalp. Ugh, how can someone this unnerving be so great at making you do whatever he wants? "It might not be the best idea, but maybe confrontation will help me make sense out of it."

What's the worse that could happen? You've seen him having a mental breakdown several times now, and you handle it well. "...okay. Just don't complain if I make you work overtime."

"Sure thing, boss."

A quick breakfast and several discussions later, you unlock the door that led to your laboratory. Observing his reaction, you saw how his mannerism had shifted unnaturally even for his standards.

"Why are they caged in here?" You stiffened at his question, at the accusation in his tone. "What, don't tell me Mr. Conversative suddenly became an animal's rights advocate?"

No answer, instead he stared you down even more sombre. "It's not like they're locked in here forever. Climate change makes it harder for them to find food, so I take their measurements for comparison. Some I feed a while longer, and when they're strong enough they're released. I swear!"

"S-Sorry, I- fuck..." He couldn't even put his finger on why this enraged him so much, trying to tear the trapped polar fox away from his field of view.

"Hey..." you wanted to put a hand on his shoulder, but he flinched away from you. "Maybe you should go back, alright?"

Fuck it, you were right, that was a stupid idea - he'll never hear the end of it. John's head was spinning and he felt sick, thinking that maybe he should sit down...

...but when he opened his squinted eyes again, a sheer coincidence would turn out fatal: The heavy steel door, an emergency exit, it was red - looking awfully alike.

"You tricked me" he gritted, logical thinking overshadowed by flashbacks. "Huh?"

"You put me in The Bad Room again!" John's eyes were wild, furious even as he violently shook your smaller frame. "How could you?!"

He then pushed you away, sending you flying and proceeding to run in circles like a coyote in a trap.

"John..." The impact made you dizzy, any yet you tried to stay conscious with all might. "The door's open, you can leave anytime." You made the grave mistake of grabbing his wrist, wanting him to stop in his tracks or at least distract him...

...but he slammed his fist right next to your head, making a huge dent in the wall. "Don't fucking touch me, or I'll fucking kill you!"

It all happened so fast, you couldn't even tell why it went downhill from there - but when you saw his eyes gleaming red, you made a run for it.

Having listened to your gut and fleeing outside, the next thing you knew you were standing in front of a completely destroyed building.

John fell to his knees in between the rubble, covered it blood and viscera of the animals you had formerly kept inside. You inhaled sharply as his eyes found you, fighting against the urge to screech - and yet, he could hear your heart practically hammering against your chest, made out the scent of adrenaline even through the dust and smoke.

John knew that scene all too well, vivid images flashing in front of his inner eye: People running away from him, terrified...and his hands covered in blood, just like right now.

You were afraid of him - and you had every right to be. He was a dangerous freak! No wonder they've kept him locked away somewhere before.

"John!"

Your voice made him snap out of it, screaming your lungs out calling for him. Without second thought you ran straight at him, wrapping your arms around his neck despite your instinct to stay away. "Shit, John, I was worried! Are you hurt?!"

"W-what kind of question is that?!" he sobbed, tears streaming down his face that froze as soon as they dropped to the ground. "Are you dull or just insane, coming back after what you just saw?!"

"But you're the victim here!" He looked at you like a kicked puppy - if the situation wasn't so severe it would certainly be adorable. "I-I'm just glad you're alright."

You sank to the ground too, simply cradling his head against your chest. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry..."

"Hey, plea- can't breathe-" The fleeting image of his past, the lifeless body of a woman dropping to his feet flashes before his inner eye, making him finally release you from his suffocating hug.

"Come" you beckon, trying to pull him from the ground but he was too exhausted - mentally at least. He might not be affected by temperature anymore, but it was minus 50 degrees out here. "Let's go home."

Gladly your flat didn't get caught in the impact of John's breakdown, and you managed to seal the broken airlock that had connected the two buildings.

Damn, this laboratory had eaten up all of your savings - and now the whole progress was simply gone. So it was only naturally that after the first shock subsided, it was you who started crying your eyes out. Not in front of him, though - as understandable as your frustration was, he was going through something way worse right now.

The bottom line was: Both your lives were now in ruins, and he was responsible.

This whole day, John wouldn't utter a single word. Instead he shunned himself from you, staying god knows where. As you were looking out of the window before sunset, you saw him just standing there, staring at the horizon. He might not be harmed by the cold, but you were sure he was still able to freeze.

Did all of this at least make him remember something? Maybe that was exactly the problem.

"You can't ignore us forever."

John clenched his fists, looking over to the house and spotting you in the window. You shouldn't be worried for him of all people - hell, you shouldn't be near him at all!

"Heya champ, talk to me."

The voices he was hearing all evening were clearly imaginary. He was probably losing his mind...or he was insane all along, who knows?

All he knew was that he didn't want the answer.

"Oh c'mon, you're even worse than the usual guy!" His reflection on the lake was talking to him in his own voice, finally snapping. "Another sniveling pussy, obsessed with affection. Fucking pathetic."

"What the fuck do you want from me?!" he spat back at himself, or rather a part of him. "Don't you get it? I am you, but stronger - better! I've got us through The Bad Room back then, and I can help you again. You're still fighting to remember...just stop resisting and you can finally become who you're truly meant to be."

There were other, more different versions of his voice, all mixing up in his mind. Some were cussing you out, others mocking himself or drowning in self-pitying...

...and worse ones made him even more afraid of what his twisted mind would be capable of...

"Really?! You care for that bitch? God, what a fucking disappointment. Believe me, she's not the first one that'll abandon you. Eventually, you'll always ruin everything. Just like back then, when you-"

"Silence! Leave me alone!" John was slamming against his own head when you rushed outside, initially wanting to drape a blanket over his shoulders. It took you forever pleading with him to at least talk things through...

...but when he reluctantly aggreed to come inside, the voices made it clear that this wouldn't be the last he had heard of them.

"I will leave" he informed you of his decision, clutching the mug of coffee you had just handed him. Those words made your heart clench, but you always knew it was inevitable. "Why so sudden? And how?"

"Apparently I can fly. Fast." Shit, what powers doesn't he have? That's unusual, even for a supe. "So you got your memories back?"

"Nope" he pops his lips matter-of-factly, looking anywhere but your eyes. "But I think we got enough proof that I'm unstable and should be, I don't know, in an institution or something." You purse your mouth, anxiety raising in the pit of your stomach. "John..."

"Oh don't 'John' me, Y/N! I'm a fucking monster!" That was the first time he had ever raised his voice at you, slamming on the table which he instantly regretted as he saw your doe eyes widen. "S-Sorry, but...I feel like I've been lonely all my life, and for a good reason. What if I use my powers unintentionally, the next time I got a nightmare? What if I hurt you? Shit, Y/N, I could never forgive myself if that happened..."

You choked on a sob, bottom lip trembling as you simultaneously tried to find the right words without crying. "Stop talking about yourself like that. I refuse to belive you'd be able to hurt me."

"But you don't know me! Not really. Hell, I don't even know myself-"

"Oh yes I do!" you cut him off harshly, cupping both sides of his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. "You're many things, but you are not a monster. You are a kind and funny and wonderful man, and you brightened every single one of my days here ever since you stumbled into my life!"

"Y/N-" he wanted to object, but you wouldn't let him. "No matter what happened that you turned out this way, you didn't deserve any of it. If you leave, you need to promise me to never give up on yourself. You deserve to be happy, okay?"

John leaned into your touch, tears long since broken free. "Why do you care so much about someone that caused you nothing but trouble?"

"Because I'm in love with you, damn it!" you blurted out without thinking first. "Does this finally go through your thick skull, or do I need to be even more obvious?!"

That sentence alone was enough for the dam to break.

John kissed you with an urgency that was frightening, as if he needed it more than air. He had pulled you onto his lap, hands demandingly roaming your body, unwilling to ever let go. "Again" he breathed out when your lips parted, "Say it again."

"I think I'm in love with you, John." Oh, he already knew he was addicted. Another kiss, quicker and more playfull this time, smiling against your lips. "One more time."

"I love you, you blockhead!" you declared proudly, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off your chest. And you were not the only one relieved to finally be able to act upon all those pent up emotions.

"Gosh, you have no idea how long I wanted to do this" John admitted almost a little bashful, covering your face in pecks. "I never thought you'd feel the same."

You tasted his tears on your lips, and he wiped yours away with his thumb, looking at you with so much adoration in his eyes, it made you wax in his hands. "I may have planned confess after your memories return, but now..." you pause, rubbing the back of your head as remorse hit you like a train. "I guess we'll have to figure it out as we go."

Yeah, there's truly no going back now. May as well enjoy it while it's lasting.

Another handful of weeks passed since your relationship blossomed, and you secretly hoped his past would never catch up on him again.

Since you had no way of finishing your research without the trashed equipment, it was about time to temporarily give up on this dream.

The two of you already made plans for the futue, had prepared to leave all this behind move back to build a life somewhere. He on the other hand was determined to do whatever it takes to repay and give you the chance to continue your studies...

...that was until shortly before your departure, when you had another unexpected visitor.

John stayed in bed as it was still early morning, admiring you from afar. He did not understand a single word you were exchanging with one of the locals in their native tongue, just hoping no matter what it was about, you would quickly come back into his arms.

A wide, infatuated smile stretched across his face as you briefly locked eyes, staring at him in awe. "What's the matter?" he inquired, noticing how dramatically you slammed the door shut.

"They've- hey!" you couldn't help but laugh as the carefree man pulled you back under the covers with him. "Continue, sweetheart."

"They've brought news from the village." Turning to face him, you indulged in one last kiss, selfishly fearing this would be the last tender moment you shared - way too soon. "People who claim to know who you are."

"Really?!" John softly clutched the sides of your shoulders, shivering ever so slightly. "Wha- who?!"

"A company, I think. Weird. What was the name...Vought?"

Unable to look at him due to your fear of losing him to his former life, you didn't notice his obvious distress, the way his eyes darkened at that cursed name. "They say you're some kind of superhero, just as I thought."

"No wonder with your kind of power, honestly" you continued at his lack of reaction, distracting yourself with a thoughtless banter. "So what, should I call you 'Homelander' from now on?"

Suddenly you felt a sharp pain in your back, way before the sound of something clashing could reach your ears. You couldn't even fathom what had happened until you grasped the situation: John had you slammed against the wall, his hand firmly wrapped around your throat.

"You fucking normie bitch..." He applied some pressure to your trachea, enough to be uncomfortable but not cutting off your air supply...yet. "Shit! How much time did I waste here?!"

You helplessly kicked with your legs, clawed at his relentless grip on your trachea, but to no avail. "Wha- John-" you stammered but his tone was callous, a manic smile stretching across his face. "Just said it yourself - that's Homelander for you."

A cracking sound filled the room as he moved his head from left to right, taking in your plain appearance for the first time after the fog in his brain had dissolved.

"I should crush you like the insect you are to me!" His stare was so unlike you had ever seen him before - the usually composed man full of spite and disgust. Regaining all of those terrible memories sure was agonizing, so right now he felt nothing but pure rage.

You were completely at his mercy, yet you were still so trusting, confused at max - and sympathetic. "Do you think I need your damn pity? I am the peak of evolution, a god, and you are...nothing."

Of course he could do it easily, snap your neck like a toothpick. You were aware, and it honestly felt like he was doing it already, the lack of oxygen making you see stars...

...and yet you stopped resisting, your palm instead wandering up to his cheek, using up the last ounce of strenght to say his name.

"Jo-ohn, plea...se..."

Even though his grip would not falter, his face fell at the genuine affection dripping from your voice. He seemed bewildered, desperate even, a multitude of emotions playing on his face - before his lips ultimatively crashed over yours.

In spite of all logic you reciprocated the kiss, wrapping your arms around him like you had done so many times before. But it didn't feel as familiar, as safe and right as before.

There was nothing either of you could say or do now that the illusion you both had created was scattered.

Homelander shook his head, trying to ground himself. He was done playing pretend, he decided internally, letting you down exceptionally gentle. As he headed for the exit, he turned to look at you one last time.

"You're not even worth killing."

[slytherinshua]

THE NIGHT WHERE IT ENDED

genre. vampire au. angst. little bit of fluff. warnings. guns. vampires fighting against humans. a lot of blood. major character death. kinda half proofread half not. pairing. vampire!hanbin x vampire!reader. ft. vampire!zhanghao, vampire!seungwoo (x1/victon/solo), and vampire!sejeong (ioi/gugudan/solo). wc. 3.7k. request. @blue-jisungs begged me to write pt 2 but i think she's regretting that decision now skjdksd oops. a/n. i'm sorry for this fic okay like srsly i'm sorry 😭😭😭 divider by @/sweetparty.

read part 1 here read part 3 here

“Why are you restless, my love?” Hanbin asked softly as he wrapped his left arm around your shoulder, the fabric of his robe draping over your skin and shielding you from the cool night breeze.

“I think we are making a mistake, Hanbin.” You said quietly. Hanbin could feel the weight of your words despite how vague they were. He tilted his head and focused his crimson eyes on you, attempting to read your thoughts. 

The skill was challenging to use on other vampires. You were neither human nor a recently turned vampire, so your thoughts were safely hidden from most. The connection of your souls made it easier for Hanbin to get in, though. And when he did, gathering a few more pieces of information about what was bothering you, he knew you were probably right. 

“You mean about humans?” His hand slowly rubbed over your arm, a simple tranquillity spell dispersing from his fingertips. This, unlike the mind reading, was something he could do without any effort. He often used it on you when he could, to help calm you in any way. You always noticed when he did, and he knew you appreciated the gesture by the look in your eyes. The same happened now, as he felt your body slowly relax in his hold. 

“They are coming into the age of technology— progressing at a rate faster than we’ve ever seen before. The elders have grown foolish. They have not seen the outside world for themselves in hundreds of years. They still think humans are weak and easy.” You explained the things that Hanbin knew very well. As merely a short thousand years old or a little more, both of you were at the front of missions and leading forces. Being young and able-bodied yet skilled enough to face almost anything, there was little left to improve on.

“Their guns have grown more powerful. So have their bombs. They are no longer scared, weak, foolishly mortal beings who run around with pitchforks and torches. They have weapons causing damage that not even the best of spells could hope to remedy. I’ve explained this all to the elders, but they won’t listen to my suggestions. They don’t believe me.” You said in defeat, faced with an impossible task.

Never before had you seen your fellow vampires die so quickly. Bullets seared through their bodies faster than the wind, and it only took a couple to knock a vampire unconscious. It was only a matter of time before the wounds killed them. The simple truth you were faced with was almost impossible to accept.

Humans were growing stronger than vampires. Despite their weak bodies, their propensity for fear, their stupidity, or their short life-spans. The advantage they had over vampires was constant adaptation and invention. You could barely name a change in the castle in 800 years, but the changes to the human world were endless. And each one was more impressive than the last.

Diseases that had once killed millions were being researched and prevented, a problem of the past for humans. Modern technology in the form of telephones, space travel, and computers aided in all facets of human life. It was simply astonishing how fast the world could change. Vampires simply had no way to keep up, you realized.

“It will take time for them to come around, but they will. When they see for themselves how many we’ve lost— how we are no longer overpowering humans tenfold. They will surely change their course of action then.” Hanbin words soothed your worried heart. You felt foolish for wanting to believe every word that came out of his mouth, but it felt like second nature. You just hoped he was right.

“This is it?” You asked, glancing at Hanbin from across the table to catch his nod. On the marble surface lay a large rifle, one that had single-handedly taken out 3 of your vampires that evening with just 5 bullets. 

It had been several months since your worry had started, and you realized now that you had vastly underestimated how quickly humans improved. What once took 10 or more bullets to fatally injure a vampire now decreased to just 1 or 2. If this is what humans could do in just a few months, what more developments could they introduce in 10 years?

“They’ve developed this model for the past couple of months to specifically target our weaknesses. They must have studied one of our men to know that silver bullets would be more deadly than anything else. When aimed at our hearts, it’s very easy to kill a vampire with just 1 shot.” Hanbin said wearily, his expression growing dim like yours.

“For the first time ever, they’re killing us faster than we’re turning them.” You muttered, trying to not let the thought terrify you. It could easily mean the extinction of vampires within a short hundred years.

You turned to the elders who you were consulting about the issue, studying their pale faces. Seungwoo looked stone faced, which you expected. He was one of the few elders who knew about the situation, as he often went out into the human world, disguising himself as one of them. As the most advanced healer among the clan, he had tended to many of the injured fighters in the past months. He was familiar with the damage the weapon could do, and the number of vampires that had been lost to its deadly silver bullets. 

Zhang Hao looked surprised, and maybe even a little bit scared at the news. His eyes were wide, but he kept his face as stoic as possible. He was one of the most powerful vampires concerning spells. His magic was strong and his knowledge was vast. He knew ancient rituals and was able to create entirely new incantations by studying old texts. You respected his opinion on the issue, and was sure he would be able to advise how to train the younger vampires with protective charms.

You skipped past the dozen or so council member elders, and turned finally to Sejeong, watching her face twist in anger. She never failed to lead the vampires expertly, but her temper was a cause of concern for you. She held grudges against the humans more personally than Hao or Seungwoo. She had often been at the front of the battlefield hundreds of years ago, and she had seen no shortage of vampire bloodshed. Under her reign there had been centuries of peace, as she wisely chose to not engage with the humans unless necessary. Now that they were actively seeking out her citizens, though, she wasn’t willing to let it slide. 

You could predict many possible outcomes from this. Sejeong’s ruling might result in peace once again, or in a war that no one would be able to survive. It was your duty to trust and follow her every command, operating on her word to the best of your abilities, but you had never experienced such high risks. You were worried you might not make it out of this battle, or worse, that Hanbin would face death with you.

The 3 elders you had watched expectantly, having been the very 3 to conjoin yours and Hanbin’s souls, were well aware of the risks. Vampire souls were not naturally supposed to meld together, and although you and Hanbin were perfectly matched, your joining still faced consequences. If one of you died, it was likely that the other would not be able to survive alone. Whenever you called to one another through your tattoos, you had to bear the burning sensation that came from using such power. If one of you was in pain, the other experienced it too. There was never a burden that could be held by just one person. You and Hanbin were a pair, and you simply could not be separated. 

It was back in Hanbin’s tower after the meeting that you voiced your concern. After Sejeong decided on facing the problem head on, just as you expected, and it was only a matter of days before you would be sent out to attack.

“I think it would be best if we stuck together at all times. If you get out of my sight, I won’t know if you’re safe.” You said quietly, biting the inside of your cheek in worry. Hanbin walked across the room, joining you on the couch, lacing his hand with yours. 

“I won’t go anywhere without you, even if it means disobeying the elders' orders. We don’t know what could happen to our souls if one of us gets hurt. We’re meant to be together, not apart.” You continued, meeting Hanbin’s crimson eyes with yours. 

He nodded, “Whatever you wish.” He squeezed your hand reassuringly.

“I should close the curtain. The sun is coming up.” You kissed his cheek and stood up to do so. Hanbin’s eyes watched you as you walked across the room and drew the blinds. He leaned back against the sofa, gaze still fixed on you as you shuffled through the bookcase on the wall, picking up a history book about ancient vampire civilizations. He could see the anxiety in your eyes, and he felt a twist in his stomach, mirroring yours.

“Calm down, Y/n. We’ll be alright, no matter what happens.” Hanbin said. He motioned for you to put down the book and come back to his arms. “Stop worrying about me. I’ll be fine. I won’t get hurt. I promise I won’t.” He whispered to you, a comforting smile on his face.

You wondered how he could always be so sure and confident. You were constantly riddled with worries, but, like always, Hanbin assured you, easing your anxiety with his words or his spells. You could feel his magic work on you as he wrapped his arms around you, and you instantly felt at peace.

You stayed in his arms until the sun had fully risen, savouring the quiet moments while you still could. There would be no spare moment to relax once the full moon came. You couldn’t ask for him to keep the calming spell going all day, but for as long as you were in his arms, you allowed yourself to let him take your mind off of everything.

You even managed to fall asleep from how comfortable you were cuddled in his hold. When you woke up and looked up at him, his eyes had fallen shut as well, but you could tell he was only dozing. Beads of sweat had gathered on his forehead from how long he had been casting the spell. Even though it was a fairly easy one that he had mastered centuries ago, keeping it going for hours at a time still took an extreme amount of energy.

You kissed his cheek, watching as his eyes opened slowly. He smiled and wiped his dewy skin, sitting up slowly. You felt the spell wear off as Hanbin relaxed his shoulders, and the thoughts flooding your head came back immediately. A sigh left your lips. You couldn’t ask him to keep it going for any longer. You felt guilty for how long he had been doing it already, knowing just how exhausting it must have been.

“You didn’t have to do that for so long.” You whispered, standing up from his lap and circling around to the back of the couch. You unclasped the outer cloth of his long robe, leaving just the tunic and pants he was wearing. Your hands fell to his neck and shoulders, slowly starting to massage the muscles, working out the knots he had developed. 

His eyes fell shut, a pained whine escaping his lips from the sensation. He was always so focused on taking care of you, he rarely noticed when his own body was suffering. He felt relieved as the pain slowly subsided with the help of one of your healing spells, the touch of your fingers over his bare skin becoming softer.

Your fingers lingered on the side of his neck when you were done, circling the pads of your pointer and middle finger over his pulsepoint, feeling the faint beating of his heart. It was slower in pace than humans, but it was still felt from the touch of your finger. 

The life of vampires relied on magical powers (and a constant supply of blood) over bodily function. In his life as a human, Hanbin’s heart had been the most vital organ to his survival. But now, keeping his body healthy so his powers flowed freely was of equal importance. The two were still intertwined, a constant balance was the key to being a powerful vampire. Poor bodily function translated to weakened power. The fact that you could still hear Hanbin’s heart clearly was a testament to his abilities. It would take an extraordinary force to weaken him to the point of death, and that thought comforted you.

You had seen many conflicts in your lifetime, mostly human wars of which vampires were no part of. But it was an entirely different feeling standing at the front of the battleline in the dead of night, preparing your strongest spells, knowing you were vastly outnumbered by the enemy’s army. 

Hanbin was by your side, his finger still barely grazing your hand, trying to get as much strength from you before the fight started. Fear filled both of your body’s, but a strong determination overpowered it. The risk was immense, but you needed to win. You would come out of it alive, no matter what.

The explosions were deafening, ringing in your ears at ten times the intensity that they sounded to humans. It was dizzying, and you could barely keep track of the spells you were casting. They seemed to be working well enough to defend yourself, as any man who charged at you soon found himself in a pool of his own blood on the grass. 

You weren’t sure how long you had been fighting, or how many more men you could hold off. It felt like they just kept coming. You had never used this much power all at once, but you couldn’t stop even for a second. It couldn’t go on forever, right?

There was no big explosion, nor were any human soldiers in range to hurt you. You weren’t in the line of gunshots. There was no possible way a grenade could have reached you without you noticing it. So why did you suddenly feel such excruciating pain?

Hanbin. Where was Hanbin?

The smoke on the battlefield hindered the humans from seeing, but you were effortlessly able to clear a path. It was easy to find Hanbin— you always came back to him without even thinking. You knew where he was immediately, and your legs carried you to him in an instant. 

His eyes looked scared as they met yours. He was on his knees, surrounded by the men he had taken out, their blood soaked on his skin and clothes. The crimson of his eyes had faded, suggesting his weakening state. You couldn’t tell what blood was his, but you could tell that he was losing it fast. 

“Hanbin— get up. Get up, please.” You grabbed his arm in a panic, pulling him up to his feet and supporting his body on yours as you quickly found a sheltered spot to let him sit.

“What happened? Why are you hurt— you said you wouldn’t get hurt.” You cried, holding a bloody palm to your tattoos, trying to summon a healing spell. Hanbin was barely breathing; struggling to stay conscious for you.

After hours of fighting, your power had grown weak. The pain you experienced, mirroring the injuries on Hanbin’s body, also prevented you from conjuring the spell. You gave up trying to get it from the source, realising that it wouldn’t work in your current state. Instead, you placed your hands on Hanbin’s chest, your fingers touching the ink on his collarbone. You closed your eyes tightly, mustering as much strength as you could to reach his body. His tattoos flickered, wanting to shine brightly from your touch, but unable to summon enough power for it.

He gasped, air flooding his lungs again. His eyes watered from the pain, and he instinctively tried to push your hands away, although he knew that they were what was still keeping him alive. The blood loss was driving his body and mind crazy; the need, the thirst for it, overwhelming. You realized what was going on from just his face, the unmistakable sign of a bloodthirsty vampire flashing in his faint eyes. 

“Take mine.” You said quickly, pushing your garment to the side, exposing your neck to him. 

“N-no, I can’t.” He whispered, terrified at the thought of hurting you.

“Please. You’ll die.” You begged, your voice laced with desperation. Strangely, you had no fear. You didn’t care about how much it would hurt, or if it would drive you bloodthirsty as well. You just needed him to survive.

Due to his weak state, you were able to overpower him. You forced his mouth open in desperation, revealing the sharp fangs on his top row of teeth. He cried, having no strength to stop you. He would rather die than risk causing you harm. 

Hanbin submitted to your wishes, knowing that if he didn’t comply with biting you, you would find a different, more dangerous way to give him your blood. He sunk his fangs weakly into your neck and forced himself to suck. The taste of your blood trickling down his throat instantly curbed the insatiable need for it. You cried out in pain, feeling your strength wither as your blood left you. The sound broke Hanbin’s heart, icy tears falling from his eyes.

The taste of your blood was sweet and warm, but Hanbin refused to enjoy a single drop of it. As soon as he felt a fraction of his strength coming back, he used it to push you off of him. 

You looked back at him and the entire world seemed to disappear. The fight was still ongoing behind you, but no shouts or explosions reached your ears. His eyes slowly gained back their colour, flickering to yours and softening. With tear stains on his cheeks and blood splattered across his face and neck, he reached for you gently, hesitantly. Almost too hesitant to be quite like him. 

“I hurt you.” He said in anguish, his eyes unable to leave the wound on your neck. “Why did you let me hurt you?” He searched your face for an answer, and it stared right back at him. Losing him would be more painful to you than any wound, even if he was the one who gave it to you. He could hurt you, wound you, or even kill you, and you would still give yourself up to him without needing to think.

Vampires always felt cold, but Hanbin’s touch felt exceptionally gelid when it reached your cheek. He looked gaunt, his exhaustion evident even after he had gotten some strength back. You needed to get him to safety, somewhere where skilled healers could tend to him. His eyes looked scared. Not scared of the battle, but scared of himself and what he had done to you.

“You could never hurt me. Just please stay alive.” You whispered, holding his bloodied hand. His eyes still naturally drew back to your neck, shaky breaths leaving him as he processed your words and nodded weakly. 

He bent to kiss you with the energy he had, the action portraying a million thoughts and feelings. You felt him crumble in your arms, his body giving out on him as his lips touched yours. You held him steady, supporting his neck so his head didn’t fall. His eyelids drooped, and with a trembling breath you realized the carmine colour of his eyes was fading again.

“No, no— Hanbin, please.” Your hands fumbled, trying to think of what to do. You simply had no power left to give to him. Your hand slipped to his waist, trying to readjust him into a better position. That’s when you felt the warm liquid on your hand. 

The wound must have been from a bullet, you deduced quickly. No other weapon that humans possessed could have caused him to bleed so much. The bullet had pierced him in merely half a second, lodging itself in his side. It was a wonder how such a small piece of silver could do so much damage to a vampire as powerful as Hanbin. He was dazed, the feeling of you pressing on the wound to try to stop the bleeding the only sensation he could discern.

Shouts grew louder in your ear. Although you had found a hidden space away from the battle, you were still exposed to danger. You stood carefully, pulling Hanbin up with you. Your only hope now was to get him back to safety as quickly as possible. His soul was still clinging to the bit of energy you had given him, but you wouldn’t have much time before it ran out completely. 

He stumbled as he rose to his feet, doing his best to support his own weight. He would have fallen back into your arms if something hadn’t hit him quicker. A small piece of silver, not more than 2 centimetres, seared straight through his chest, and a gasp fell from his lips.

You heard the shot. You felt it too, in the middle of your chest, a scathing pain spreading up your neck. You failed to catch Hanbin in time before he fell. 

It was over. You knew you had failed. Your options were expended and your time running out. Dropping to the ground as well, you clung to his body. With no energy left to fight, much less save him, you accepted the loss. Closing your eyes, you gathered him in your arms and pressed a kiss to his forehead as if you were comforting a small child.

It was a send off, of sorts. A last goodbye, and a testament to your love. He took his final breath, cradled safe in your arms, protected from the world. After all he had given for you, he deserved to rest comfortably. 

As his soul perished, you felt yours fading as well. He was taking you with him, knowing you could never live apart from him. Intertwined in every way, even until death. That was the fate you and him shared.

↳ zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,

@emmylksblog,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone,, @sxmmerberries,,

@talking-saxy,, @cupidslovearrows,, @dimplewonie,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,,

@kristianities,, @kangtaehyunzzz

[soapsilly]

My Kind of Woman - Roronoa Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Summary: Zoro being love drunk - and also a little drunk drunk - for (Y/N). A short story inspired by Mac DeMarco - My Kind Of Woman.

Requests are closed

************************************************************************

It was late... or rather early? Did it really count as the next morning when you never even went to sleep? There weren't very many people left - most of them had already gone home or were passed out. Nothing unusual for the feasts the Straw Hats would have regularly after a big fight. The huge bonfire had gone out hours ago but there embers still glimmered red and hot. Somewhere, Brook was still playing a song on his guitar. It was slow and almost sultry.

Zoro was more than a little buzzed as he watched (Y/N) drunkenly sway to the music. He was mesmerized by her. The way her hips moved to the music so perfectly. Her eyes were closed as she listened to the tunes, a small smile present on her face. He knew she was dancing for herself only, not to impress any of those men that were there this evening, not even for him. That didn't stop the swordsman from still watching the woman intently though. Zoro sometimes couldn't believe the effect she had on him. All the little nicknames, the nights they spent together, small kisses and hidden touches. It was all so foreign to Zoro but strangely he didn't mind at all.

"Here", she pushed something in his hands.

"What's this?", he blinked a few times.

"My wanted poster. It has a picture of me on it... It'll last longer", she winked at him.

The swordsman grinned stupidly as he unfolded the paper in his hands.

He took another swig of his drink, letting the taste linger in his mouth, watching the way her arms snacked themselves around herself in a soothing hug, a bottle of liquor dangling in her hands. He wasn't a dancer but his mind almost automatically imagined himself in her arms, swaying to the music. Oh, the things she did to him...

She was everything for him. How could a woman like her ever stay with a guy like him? He was stubborn. A brute. Not romantic in the slightest. And yet she was always by his side, making sure he ate, slept, rested. That shitty cook liked to remind Zoro that she was too good for him every chance he got - any maybe he was right - but as long as she would have him he'd do everything for her.

"Are you serious? You need to rest! Your wounds haven't even healed properly and here you are training again already! I'm not gonna stay and watch you kill yourself"

"Leave then, I never asked you to be here anyways", Zoro regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

"You're an idiot, do you know that?", she told him before leaving the room.

He was sure he had permanently fucked things up with her this time, kicking himself over it, but in the evening (Y/N) came up to him.

"You shouldn't talk to me this way"

"I'm sorry", he meant it. He really did. He expected her to tell him to get lost, to not talk to her again but instead she hugged him. He didn't understand why she stuck right next to him, but he didn't dare to vocalize his thoughts, afraid of putting ideas in her head.

As if under a spell, he made his way over to her. He would blame the alcohol in the morning but he knew it was her that had this intoxicating effect on him. He knew the guys would tease him for his public display of affection but he didn't care. All he cared about right now was (Y/N). When he hugged her from behind, she didn't even hesitate as she turned around nuzzling her face in the nape of his neck.

"Didn't take you for a dancer"

"Couldn't help myself "

For a moment the two of them just stood there, swaying to the music, enjoying each others company.

"'M tired...", she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Want me to bring you back to the Sunny?", he leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke.

"Only if you join me"

She didn't have to ask twice as he easily scooped her into his arms to carry her back to the Sunny. He'd never understand how he deserved a woman like her. He never was the romantic type but with her it was different. She was his kind of woman.