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leahnardo-da-veggie · 2 days ago

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A Tragedy of Love, Death and Maggots, Collated

(TW: Maggots, gore, torture. 18k words, read it below the cut or in the Google doc. It's my first completed novella hehe <3 Enjoy!)

The corpse dangled limply, swinging in the wind. The chains attached to its wrists jangle like chimes, creating a melody more off-tune than haunting.

The corpse was beautiful, once, with long eyelashes and a gleaming smile, gorgeous enough to charm sirens. But no amount of smiling could hide the stick-thin limbs, encrusted with bodily fluids, or the gaping sockets where a pair of eyeballs once rested.

The corpse died of starvation, that much was obvious. It had struggled long and hard to be free, judging from the livid marks along its wrists. Every bone was prominent under its bruised and raw skin. Dried blood stained the rags it wore, barely enough to cover what little dignity it had.

Its ribs were opened up like a butterfly, baring shrivelled organs and guts. I could only hope that it had been post-mortem. Maggots had infested themselves in its cavities, worming and squirming with glee, a veritable mass of white amidst the red. The sight was enough to make any man heave.

“What's the verdict, Doc?” Athena was cheerful as ever, either not caring or pretending not to care about the gore before us. “Who dunnit to this poor man?”

I shook my head. My guts curdled at the way she prodded a chunk of squirming flesh fearlessly. “Someone starved him to death, then chopped him up like that. He must have been left in a cell until he died, or else he wouldn't be stained all over. This entire scene's at least a day old, too, or else maggots wouldn't have shown up like that,” I explained. “Damn, but I just can't think of a monster that would've done this.”

“It wasn't a monster,” Mrin replied, her voice harsh. “No monster would be that wasteful. A human had to have locked him up, guarded the cell so no monster would eat him, then maimed him afterwards.” Her one good eye narrowed.

Athena grimaced. “Cultists,” she concluded.

“Yep.” I folded my arms. “They're back at it. I could have sworn we'd driven them away the first four times.”

She shrugged. “They're worse than maggots. Let one live, and soon you'll have twenty swarming your home and setting you on fire for their rituals.” She broke into a grin. “Guess we've got to break out the weapons and go cultist-hunting again, eh?”

“No,” Mrin said suddenly. She had been examining the corpse's wrists. “This isn't a cultist issue. Come here and see.”

“How'd you figure?” I came closer and took a good long look at where she pointed. “I don't see anything.”

“Doc,” Athena said, suddenly bored. She stood behind me, crowding us in. “Who the hell cares? The cultists are probably back by now. Let's go kill them some more.”

“Hunting, killing, hunting. Is that all you ever think of doing?” I rounded on her. Call me immature, but that flippancy of hers was wearing on me. “There's a dead man there. Whether or not it is the cultists, we need to investigate and avenge him. And that means properly working out what's going on. Isn't that what you'd want someone to do for you?”

“If I'm dead, I wouldn't care what you did. Eat me, string me up by the innards, fuck my dead corpse, it's all the same to me.” She paused, and a shimmer of old anger passed over her features. “But cultist hunting is always a good idea.”

“You're like an animal, you know that? Oh, so the cultists hurt you. Boo-fucking-hoo. You can't spend the rest of your life mindlessly chasing vengeance. You're right. The cultists will always be there. So stop worrying about them, and start worrying about this new threat, because we can get rid of that. Or are you too desperate to meet your old friends again?”

Athena froze, and I saw rage flash across her features. It was dangerous to provoke her, to rip her mask off and reveal the ugly wounds that festered within. I did it anyway, because it was the only way to get her to listen. “Shut up, Doc,” she hissed, earlier cheer evaporated. “Don't you dare talk like that.”

“Stop that, both of you. The cultists remain a threat to us all. If we don't stop them, they'll eventually become a threat to us again,” Mrin snapped, forcing herself between us. “But we are perfectly capable of keeping an eye out for this new danger while finding their new hideout.”

Brett, who had been uncharacteristically silent, piped up. “Yeah, guys. Please don't fight.” He shifted himself to stand closer to Athena, pressing himself to her scrawny frame. “Things are bad enough without us turning on each other.”

Wrapped around his finger as she was, she acquiesced, settling against him. “I suppose it wouldn't hurt. Go on, Mrin: How did you work out it ain't the cultists?”

Mrin picked up the corpse's floppy wrist. “Look at this tattoo,” she said, gesturing to the familiar mark that stood out amongst bruises. “The sigil of The One That Lurks Beneath Rotting Flesh.”

“A signifier of high ranking amongst the cultists.” I thought through the implications of it. “This was either an inside job or someone who hates cultists, then.”

“If it's the latter, I say we let them get to it,” Athena told me brusquely. “Maybe even find ‘em and help out.”

“We'll see what happens,” I said. The thought of siding with anything cruel enough to torture a man, even a cultist man, made my stomach churn. “Come on. I don't think there's anything left to do.”

And so our little spat ended just like all the others, full of unresolvable threats and lingering anger. It simmered under the surface as we gathered rusting cans of food from a stash, when I jostled her arm as we ate dinner, while we lay in bed, silent and seething.

I stared at the cracked ceiling blankly, watching the flickering light overhead. When had I last seen natural light? This place was all concrete and grime, endless electricity fuelling my living hell of insomnia and nightmares.

Mrin was hardly faring any better. Her bedroll was empty, as it often was, for she often meandered her nights away, futilely seeking an escape. Were I younger, I would have followed her, and joined her in that pathetic hunt for freedom. But that was the folly of youth, a folly neither Brett nor Athena had inherited.

They slept curled up in a little ball, snuggled up beside each other. I would never admit it, but I envied their love for each other, the companionship I dared not seek. I watched them silently, arms propping me up, heart heavy.

"They're gonna die here, you know," Mrin said. "They'll die young and in love, without having ever seen the light of day again. They'll die here, and we'll die here, and the cultists will die here. Nobody's winning this game."

"I know," I whispered back. "Aren't you gonna go on your nightly walk?"

"It's pointless. It's always been pointless. It'll always be pointless."

I didn't know how to respond to that.

“I hate this place,” she continued. “I hate it so much.”

“You're repeating yourself,” I told her. “And stop standing behind me. It creeps me out.”

Mrin sat heavily beside me. From the narrow slant of her eye, I could tell I wasn't calming her down. Her fingers scratched at the tiled ground, as though she could dig herself out through sheer stubbornness.

“Why doesn't it get to you? The- the claustrophobia, the constant hunting, the cold canned food? Where do those damn cans come from? Where do the cultists come from? Are they even human? Are we?” Her voice had risen in pitch with each question, until she was more shrieking than speaking.

“You'll wake Athena and Brett.” And it did get to me. I sat up and looked away from her.

“Damn it, answer my question! Why. Don't. You. Care?!” She grabbed the lapels of my tattered old coat, and pulled me to face her.

I didn't want to answer that question. “You know how long I've been here?”

“I know you've been here longer than the rest of us. And you're still dodging me,” she demanded.

“I stopped counting at 15 years. I was a kid when I woke up in this hell, fresh out of med school. Now look at me,” I said, forcing the words out. We must've woken the kids up, but I didn't want to check. I didn't want to picture them like me, old and haggard and unable to remember anything more than these off-white walls. “Believe me, Mrin, when I say I do care. I just wish I didn't.”

She looked into my eyes, praying it was another lie, another tale told to get her off my back. Finally, she said, “I believe you.” And it made me regret ever opening my mouth.

All I could do was reach out and grip her shoulder, rubbing it gently. All she could do was fall into my arms, and weep silently. We held each other as her tears stained my clothes. After a moment, I felt another pair of arms wrap themselves around us. Brett had joined in, gripping us like a child would his teddy bear.

“Athena?” I looked up to see her staring at us from a distance. Reflected in her eyes was a coldness that surpassed mine, a coldness that burned like a thousand cultists on a pyre. “You gonna join us?” I held one arm out, reaching to her, begging her to come complete our huddle.

Those dark eyes hardened even further. She turned and walked away.

Should I have run after her? Would it have changed anything? Damned if I knew. Perhaps the rot in her heart had begun long ago, when the cultists chained her in that dark room and did things to her. Perhaps the very first maggot had wriggled in far earlier, when she first wandered into this place. Perhaps it had always been there, a foul seed biding its time, myiasis waiting for the most fertile soil to sprout into a choking weed.

All I knew was that by the time we had drifted to sleep in that little huddle, she was long gone, toting that makeshift spear of hers into the flickering light that passed for night.

“Doc?” Brett shook my shoulder with the dogged determination of a boy who had finally noticed his girl was missing. “Doc, get up. Doc?” He might as well have passed for a particularly large alarm clock.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘thena ran off,” I muttered, more to shut him up than out of any true caring. “She’ll be fine. That girl can smash her way through an army of man-sized cockroaches, she'll be fine. Besides, she runs off all the time. She took her spear, didn't she?”

“Sure she took her spear, but that's not enough! You have to get up. We have to go find her. I know something's wrong,” he insisted. “I just know it!”

That got me grudgingly getting up. Brett's instincts were never off, and it had saved us from trouble more than once. “Fine, fine. What's the trouble?”

“It's…” He frowned, trying to put it into words. His fingers, long and knobby, kneaded each other nervously. “It's dread, panic, terror. It's being in utter darkness, being left at the checkout counter while your mom goes off and grabs something she forgot, being stuck with your leg in a bear trap and the hunter approaching. It's bad.” The last word made my lips pucker with sourness.

Bad. God, how much that word could sum up. I rolled up my sheet and waved Mrin over. “We need to look for Athena,” I told her. “Brett had another premonition, and he says it's bad.”

“Yeah, well, I've got more bad news,” Mrin replied. “We’re out of food.”

“What? That's ridiculous, we had 10 cans last night,” Brett protested.

“I'll bet your girlfriend took it. Who else could it have been? That damned girl is all instinct and no intellect.” I shook my head in disgust.

He glared at me, but did not dispute my conclusion. “We should hurry up and find her, then.”

With that, we were up and at it again. Brett, our resident packmule, carried the waterskins and our four bedrolls. I had our pathetically small kit of iodine and gauze, and Mrin held on to the only other true weapon we owned: a honest-to-goodness cavalry sabre. It wasn't ideal, but anything was better than the vaguely sharp rock-knives Brett and I carried.

We trekked through hallway after hallway, heading for the corner that the cultists called home. Down an elevator shaft we went, through the hallway that no sane human could have designed, up and over a random waist length wall that existed for no reason beyond making my life troublesome.

Even as time stretched on, nothing passed between us. On a normal day, I might have bantered with Mrin, or pitched in as she and Athena bickered. We might have passed around a protein bar, or took turns trying to snatch a flying ant out of the air. We might have done anything to ward off the oppressive misery, and whiled away another hopeless day.

But without a quarter of our crew, I didn't have it in me to get the festivities started.

Brett, however, did have it in him to crack the ice that had built up between us. “Hey, Doc?" His voice was light as the contents of our stomachs.

"Yeah, kiddo?" I didn't turn around, didn't look into those nervous, haunted eyes.

"Everything will be alright, right?" He sounded like Mrin, praying that good ol' Doc would reassure him that everything would be a-okay.

I thought of Athena's eyes boring into mine, the two of us knowing better. I thought of Mrin's hopeless weeping that night, when she finally accepted that we would die in this endless nightmare. I thought of that bright little spark in Brett's heart being put out, as all beautiful things eventually were. And curse me, but I didn't want to be the one to do it. I didn't want to be responsible for being the one to sully his light.

"Yeah," I lied. "We'll find 'thena, and we'll find some more cans of tuna or something, and then we'll all go cultist hunting."

There was a long pause, as though Brett didn't truly believe me. It stretched and slithered and snuck into my chest, where it rested like a stone beside despair.

My joints hurt. My head hurt. My heart hurt. I didn't want to do this. My own thoughts had joined Brett's in whispering horrors to me, warning me that whatever lay in the near future would not be pleasant.

We were at the border to the cultists' territory when Mrin stopped us. “Athena was here,” she told us. “Look at the markings on the wall.”

Indeed, there were nasty little marks on the off-white walls, in the shape of rather inappropriate and anatomical figures. The only person who would have the immaturity to do such a thing, as well as the guts to do it in the heart of the cultists' lair, would be that damned girl.

I sighed. “Of course it's her. Who else would draw dicks on the walls of hell?” I shook my head. “Fool child. Do you have any idea how long ago she passed through here?” For all that she had one eye, Mrin's sight served her better than the rest of ours combined. If anyone could figure it out, it would be her.

“What am I, your blood hound? I can't tell-” she stopped and took a closer look at the markings. “Oh. She was here not long ago. Look, the ink on the wall hasn't dried yet.”

“Oh, thank the heavens! We might be able to catch her if we hurry,” Brett exclaimed. “Come on, come on! We've gotta get to her before something else does.” His breath hitched, and that sunny smile of his cracked. “If- if ‘thena got hurt, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself!”

Ah, the follies and passions of youth. I shook my head and gave Mrin my signature grin, the one we used to exchange two years ago, back when it was the two of us and she had two eyes. She returned it, hesitantly, showing off yellowing, chipped teeth.

Before anything could pass between us, Brett put his hands on our shoulders and pushed, sending me careening down the hall. “Hurry up,” he demanded. There was a wildness in his eyes, like an animal being chased down. “There's not much time left.”

Mrin sighed. “There's never any time, Brett. I know you're worried about her, but we can't afford to rush in. The cultists are dangerous, and if we get caught unprepared, we'll be unable to save ourselves, let alone Athena.”

I nodded in agreement. “Besides, we don't even know where she's gone. Sure, she's here, but here can be in the congregation hall of the cultists or in some random corner, and we need time to work out which exactly it is.”

He held that look of cornered terror for a moment longer, begging us to change our minds. Then he gave up and nodded. “Alright. I take it we're scouting the lair first? Knowing her, that's where she'll be.”

“Yeah, sure.” I started forward again, keeping up with Brett as we made our way towards the home of the greatest monsters in our little hell.

Not that there weren't other monsters there too. Monsters with tentacles and spikes, like the one that gave me a long, barely healed gouge along my upper arm. Monsters like a man with too many limbs, sitting in the dark hiding their extra hands behind their backs and beckoning us to come in such that they might dine on our flesh. Monsters that were nothing more than a glitch, that ruined everything they touched.

Bad enough that they took our flesh, sucked the marrow out of our bones. Worse still, that they took our lives. But what made this place hell, instead of merely dangerous, was that it took our soul. This place had killed the love in my heart and stomped on its shattered bits, just like we had a dozen cultists.

Those cultists were human once, just like us. For all of their cruelties and insanities, that meant they were human when we killed them. Which made us, all four of us, murderers. I looked at Brett, urging us forward like an overeager puppy. He didn't look like a murderer.

If there was anyone I wished I could rescue from this hell, it was him. Athena had her rage and bloodlust. Mrin had her eagle-eye and sudden breakdowns. I had my age, my apathy. He was the only untainted one, the one who shone like the sun, with his dirty blonde hair and sky-blue eyes straight out of a movie.

I… I hated him so much at that moment. It wasn't fair that he could live in this neverending nightmare and still smile like that. His girlfriend was an axe-crazy psycho, his daily life involved scrounging for rusty cans of food and drinking water from leaky pipes, and yet! Yet despite it all he managed to love, to trust, to care with such a passion that it sparked my rage. I was jealous, so very jealous of him.

“The lair's up ahead,” Mrin said suddenly, jerking me out of my thoughts. “I see silhouettes of people.” She paused. “Cultists, I mean. Not people.”

I stepped closer, hiding behind a pillar. Things that could be charitably construed as human twirled in dizzying circles around an altar. “A ritual of some kind,” I whispered to the others. “But for what?”

My question was answered soon enough, and I wish it hadn't. Two masked cultists, heavily muscled and scarred, bore a struggling, furious girl up towards the altar. Despite the ropes holding her wrists and ankles together, she hissed and sputtered like a wildcat, struggling as hard as she could. They hadn't chosen her carriers carelessly, I noted. Anything less than the strongest of bonds and bearers, and that girl would have clawed her way free.

“Athena!” Brett made a move to dash into the rows of dancers, only to be stopped by my outstretched arm.

“Don't be a fool, kid. If you run into a circle of cultists, you'll just get killed along with your dearest Athena. Is that what you really want?”

The glare he gave me could have belonged to a petulant teenager, if not for the undercurrent of terror. “But-”

“Hush, both of you, or we'll all be found.” Mrin, always sensible.

Their high priestess, decked in layer after layer of tattered robes walked up before Athena, bearing a ceremonial dagger. “Feral child,” she began in a voice like the buzzing of a thousand flies. “You have cost us the life of a Precious One, of our Honoured Sacrifice, He Who Would Bring About The Birth Of Our God. For that, you will pay with a thousand years of agony.”

“Cost them the life of their sacrifice? What the hell are they talking about? Athena-” It clicked, and I closed my mouth. “The hanged man. That- that was her. That's why she didn't care. That's why she tried to distract me when we found the tattoo. She knew, this whole time.”

“But that would mean that she had starved, beaten and killed him in cold blood,” Brett protested. “Athena would never-”

“Athena would. You know that. You know that better than the rest of us, Brett,” Mrin replied. “That doesn't change anything. We've got to save her anyways. She's one of us.”

“Like hell this changes nothing,” I snapped. “She tortured a man! In cold blood! Do you not see why I don't want to rescue the bloody berserker who tortures people?!”

“Shut. Up.” Brett, of all people, had said that. He glared at me, knuckles white with rage. “Don't you act like such a hypocrite. You would have left that man in there no problem. Don't pretend that you weren't the one to convince us all to cull the cultists the first time. You wanted us to leave Athena behind, right from the beginning. What is your problem?”

It was a miracle that nobody had noticed us. Somewhere in the background, the cultists began chanting, a deep sound like a boar stirring from dirt, like drums beat to the rhythm of war. “I did what I had to to survive. If that meant leaving someone for dead? Yeah, sure. I'll admit to that. But this is just viciousness! She did this out of malice. She is evil, Brett. That's what evil looks like.”

“No, evil is acting like fear and anger make you a monster. Evil is knowing better, and doing worse. You're evil,” Brett said, shoving me away from him. Mrin caught me, her face turned away to watch the cultists. “And I'm saving her, no thanks to you.”

He stomped off angrily. “Now look what you've done,” she murmured. “Oh, I can see this ending badly.”

I glared at her. “Don't jinx us,” I replied. “Who knows? Maybe the kid will pull her out of it. He's done greater miracles, after all.”

Her silence told me she saw through the lie.

“And so-” The priestess' voice drew my attention back, ringing with ugly power. We had missed… something. It felt important. If only I knew what it was. “Do you have any last words?”

We all turned to Athena, us and the cultists and whatever gods there might be. A thousand eyes stared up at the tiny girl bound up, on her knees atop the altar, her gag released so she could say one last thing.

And true to her nature, she hawked a great gob of saliva and spat at the priestess' face. “Go fuck yourself,” Athena proclaimed, chin raised defiantly.

“So be it,” the priestess replied, and gestured to a servant. We'd wasted too much time bickering, I realised. Too much time. Perhaps Brett had been right, after all. Not that my admitting it couldn't do anything.

Perhaps- Perhaps Brett could save her. He was strong, and fast, and- Oh, if only I'd gone with him. If only I had looked past my petty grievances earlier. I really was always too late to save anyone, was I? Right from the very first time someone had died on me, I should have known. I was no Doc. I was a failure.

But I had to hope. I had to hope that Brett could right my wrong. I had to hope, even as the priestess took her ceremonial dagger from an awed worshipper, even as she raised it with a black-toothed smile, even as-

Commotion on the other side of the cultists told me Brett had been intercepted, that he didn't make it, that our one chance to save her had failed. The priestess raised her dagger. Its light glinted like a sudden glimpse of the sun across the horizon. Athena screamed bloody murder, curses and obscenities and the murderous rage that lay in her heart. I screamed too, and reached out. Mrin let out a gasp.

And that was it.

It was a sudden limpness, a voice cut short, a flicker of false sun dashed by blood. The priestess raised a triumphant, gorey hand and grinned right at me. “So it is done,” she announced. “The sacrifice has been made. She has been summoned. Welcome, our Lady That Lurks Beneath Rotting Flesh!”

Something bubbled out of Athena's chest, something grey-white and squirming. Her body jerked upright, cracking its neck with a sickening twist, shoulders jerking like a prop from a bad zombie movie. Her eyelids fluttered open to reveal two eyeballs quickly overwhelmed with crawling things.

Mrin let out a gasp beside me. “Maggots,” she whispered. “We have to get Brett and run.”

This time, I didn't protest. My foolishness had cost us enough. Between the pillars and our running, I caught only glimpses of the thing wearing Athena's body. It stretched lasciviously, throwing uneven arms back and grinning ear to ear, quite literally. The foul worms that made up her flesh multiplied, spreading and growing like a miasma, until she was the height of two men.

The Lurker, or whatever I was to call this abomination, was beautiful like a statue, all elegant and evocative and ethereal, if statues writhed and crawled upon itself and wore a smile that split its face ear to ear. It looked nothing like the girl I knew. And it was gazing down at where I knew Brett to be.

“Shit,” Mrin snarled, forcing us both to a halt behind a crumbling wall. “They're blocking us.”

Indeed, there were hundreds of cultists standing around her, watching their goddess in blind ecstasy. A few had their hooks in Brett, baring him before her like her very first sacrifice.

I wanted to scream, to beg him to cut loose and run, but Brett stood there steadily, light ringing his golden hair like an angel's halo.

Athena, or the thing wearing her face, grabbed his wrists, claws the size of knives digging into the open wounds. “Brett,” she cooed, swaying with delight. “You came looking for me.” The maggots churned and coursed, making her facade of a woman ripple.

He nodded unsteadily. “'thena, I know this isn't you, alright? Snap out of it,” he said, not a trace of fear in his voice. “We're here for you, me and Doc and Mrin. I'm here for you. We believe in you.”

He took in a deep breath. “I love you, Athena. So come back to us, okay?”

For a moment, she froze. I thought- I hoped, against all hope, that it had worked, that the power of love would triumph.

Then that horrible mass of writhing rot grinned. “How cute. How darling. Why, I could just eat you up, dearie,” she exclaimed.

And she did, her swarm bending down towards his face. Brett's scream was cut off abruptly as she pressed her lips to his, kissing him deeper than the real Athena ever had. He squirmed in her grip as wave after wave of larvae poured down his throat, gnawing and gulping down his innards. I caught flashes of red as he was engulfed, each quickly overwhelmed by the swarm.

It was too much, just too much, and I bent over, heaving sour bile onto the floor. It tasted like Brett's screams, wet and sour and horrified.

I would have sat there retching my wretched lunchless guts out until she found me, had Mrin not dragged me back. She might have been smaller than me by a half, but she made up for it with her sheer persistence.

“Doc, don't do this. We need to get out of here, and we need to do it now.” Her voice, normally so calm, was tinged with panic. “Come on, be a dear. Get up. Keep moving.”

I lurched along with her, leaning on her shoulder, leaving behind the two people who had been a staple of our lives.

“They're gone,” I whispered, when we were just beyond that vile cathedral. “Both of them. And it's all my fault. I let them die. Oh god, Brett was right. I am a monster.” My legs felt weak.

“No, you're not. You're a fool man, like most men, and I'm a fool woman, like most too, and we need to get out of here before we become dead fools. Now, don't stop. Keep moving. One leg after another. That's right, Doc. We'll work out what to do afterwards,” she coaxed, not a hint of the frightened woman I'd seen just a day before lurking beneath the surface.

“How can you be so calm? They're dead! I might as well have killed them myself. Oh god, I'm a monster. It should have been me, not them. They're just kids, and I was so harsh. This is all my fault.” The words kept on spilling out of my mouth, circling like vultures above a battlefield.

Mrin slapped me. Hard.

“Move, for fuck's sake. Or else we'll be dead too, and you'll have to answer to whatever cruel deity is up there. You're too old and I'm too mean and we’re too stubborn for it all to end here, so let's fucking go!” Tears rimmed her eyes, glistening like reflections of a half-forgotten summer day. I reached out to wipe them away, and she swatted my hand. “I don't want to die, Doc. Come on, get up. Get up. Get up!”

I did, stumbling to my feet, the taste of hunger and phantom flesh spurring me on like a whip to my hide. Her fingers were locked with mine as we ran. It didn't matter where we went. We just had to go away. Get away from it all, go back to the fields of green and a lover's arms, dishes in the sink waiting to be washed, a memory faded like the details on your grandmother's photo.

I missed reality. Oh, how I missed it. This was a bad dream, a bad dream so long and visceral that it had eclipsed awakening like Not-Athena looming over the flickering lamps. I stumbled forwards through the haygrass, my knees aching from running all day. The sun, just beginning its golden descent, laughed at my pathetic fleeing. The wind, thick with pollen, whipped at my over-long hair.

Where was I running from? I remembered concrete, grey, endless running and hiding. Dark eyes, distrustful and hurt, boring into mine. A golden smile, brighter than the sun that shone in my eyes. A scarred woman with a sharp eye and businesslike mannerisms, breaking down before my eyes.

And something worse. Something so bad I had forgotten. I caught myself against a scarecrow, rough sackcloth and woodgrains bringing a tear to my eyes. I wanted to stop, to rest, but that something pushed me forward. Come on, get up, it urged. Get up. Get up!

The words echoed in my brain, bouncing about like the sting of a slap and the ache of my bones. Why did my cheek sting? Better yet, why did my bones ache? I was still spritely, young-

Old. I was old. Yes, that was it. How could I have forgotten? Mrin was just ahead of me, torn between fleeing and keeping me with her. Athena was possessed, probably dead. And Brett- Oh, gods, Brett!

I shook my head roughly. Why was I crying? I had to move. Keep moving, stop thinking about- whatever it was I remembered.

I didn't want to dwell on the past. I never did, as an ambitious young man. Better to look to the bright future. It was time to retire, wasn't it? Yes, I could leave the big city, move back out to the old cottage Granny Bella left me, make a home with my love-

My love. Something about that struck me. I didn't have a love. I'd dedicated my life to work, hadn't I?

But I did. And she was right in front of me. In a blaze of fire and scarecrows and memories that weren't, I burst forth from my dream and back into my nightmare.

With a gasp, I sped up and grabbed Mrin's arm. It was warm, familiar, and utterly paled in comparison compared to that feverish moment. When I took a moment to regather my senses, I realised I knew this corridor. Even better, I remembered hiding in this corner, an eternity ago, when I rescued a two-eyed Mrin from monstrous things. “To the left!”

Without responding, Mrin turned with me and we crawled into the little tunnel where my safe room lay. It was hardly more than a crack in the walls, and my body protested as I shoved myself in. For a moment I was afraid we would not both fit, for even I alone was a snug fit. But Mrin pulled herself in behind me, squeezing herself until we hardly had room to breathe.

The two of us hardly dared to watch as the ground's rumbling grew louder, beating like war drums with the feet of a hundred cultists. They were out to get us, I thought, and prayed that they would not find us.

The cultists drew closer, and I realised their movements were disorganised, frantic, terrified. They weren't hunting us. They weren't chasing. They were fleeing.

Fleeing what? I knew the answer as soon as I thought of the question.

Athena. Or to be specific, Not-Athena. She- It had turned on its summoners. I wiggled closer to the corners of our hidey-hole and clung to Mrin closer. “That thing's going to notice us,” I whispered in her ear.

She nodded. “Not if we stop breathing. That thing hunts through the sound of its prey. Hold on to me. Hold on tight, and hold your breath. I'll get us out of here.” There was something cold in her voice, like she was recalling a thousand-year-old memory and found it distasteful. “Just remember: Don't give in to it.”

She hushed my protests and began murmuring under her breath, a slow, steady chant whose cadence reminded me of the cultist priestess's ritual. It stole my breath away, quieted me like a pillow pressed against a sleeping man's face. For a moment, I felt my soul scrabble for breath, drowning in her words. But it was only a moment, and like all moments, it passed.

I breathed through my nose, curled up as far from the Something that swarmed above my head, something ancient and cruel, something that wanted me and Mrin dead. It glided past me, leaving a trail of slime and straggler maggots. One of the larvae crawled towards me. Would it alert the others if it found me? Could it?

It reared up, looking me right in the eye. Did maggots have eyes? Could they see? Was the game already over, before I had even realised it began?

We stayed like that for an eternal moment, that tiny scrap of Not-Athena and I. I wondered if each maggot had its own mind, its own opinion. I wondered if it had a tiny scrap of our Athena in it, having become what it ate. I wondered if, when it turned away, it was out of pity or ignorance.

Either way, we were safe. For now.

My fingers found Mrin's hair as her murmurs slowly died off. “It's over,” I told her. “We're safe. Come on, let's get out of here.”

She nodded unsteadily. “Right. Get out. Get away. Move.” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper, a thought leaking out of her tongue. With a heave, she hauled herself out of our hidey-hole. Out in the open, I could see blood dribbling out of her lips. Whatever she had done had cost her something, that much I could tell.

I followed her out and pressed her into a seated position. Her eye was blank, glossed over like she was high. “Come on, Mrin,” I coaxed. How quickly the tables had turned. Me reassuring her, her protecting me, me healing her- it was an endless cycle, like a satellite's orbit of Earth, always falling and never hitting the ground. I needed to get her back on her feet, just like she had me. Well, not her physical feet. Her metaphorical ones. Damn, my head hurt. It was getting hard to think.

I peered into her mouth. Her gums were what bled, raw-red and potentially infected. No, not potentially. Definitely infected. When had it happened? She hadn't complained of such issues previously.

Curse it all. “Mrin, can you hear me? You alright?” She obviously wasn't, but I was running out of things to say. Everything was falling apart. I wanted to get back to falling apart too, but I couldn't. Not when she was like this.

She didn't respond. “Mrin? Please respond. I need you, Mrin.” Her pulse was soft, chest moving ever so slightly.

“Mrin?” Gods, I was repeating myself like a broken record. My own pet peeve, and I'd stooped to it. “Mrin, please. You got me out of there, and now I need you to get out of whatever dreamland you're in.”

Still nothing. If anything she was fading away. But this couldn’t be it. That was unacceptable. I'd spent a good fifth of my life with her. She’d had my back. She was my friend, my companion, my partner. I couldn't lose her. “Mrin?” I clasped her face, looking into those unfocused eyes of hers.

“I love you.”

If this had been a romance or a fairytale, she would have opened her eyes. If this had been a dream, a good dream, she would have whispered it back. If there had been any justice in this world, something should have happened.

But it wasn't. I was no pure of heart hero, and my knight in shining armour was none more than a tired, scared woman who'd pushed herself too far. Perhaps… Perhaps it was all I could do to sit beside her and hope.

I settled down next to her, running my fingers through her hair. It was matted to hell and back, but I had all the time in the world to detangle it. Not-Athena wouldn't come back here, not so soon, not when it had plenty of prey to pursue.

How were we gonna get out of this one? Was this how all the monsters in the labyrinth were born? From rude, self-obsessed little girls? From the corpses of their soft-hearted boyfriends? From the tears of an old man who had never wanted to care so much?

My tears were silent, landing on the knees I had pressed against my chest. My stomach ached. My mouth was dry from screaming and heaving and all the other vile things my day had been occupied with.

I wanted to go off and find some food, some water, some relief. I had chosen this hidey-hole well, even if I rarely visited it. I knew of a leaky pipe with semi-clean water, and a little stash of only slightly rusted cans of beans. But I couldn't leave Mrin. Not when she was like this.

The part of me that had truly hardened itself to the world told me to get up and walk away. It was sensible. I didn't know how to help her. I was no magician or wizard, to cure wounds caused by magic (or what I presumed to be magic, at least). I was only a useless little boy, who hadn't saved anyone, though he'd dedicated his life to it.

Some Doc I was.

Still- It was foolish to choose to let myself rot in here beside a woman who would probably die. It was foolish to waste time that could be better spent rebuilding my life from the corpses of my lost companions. It was foolish to hope.

But a fool I was, and a fool I had always been. There was a third choice beyond staying at my post and walking away. There has always been a third choice, even if I had neglected it so often. There was a third choice, and it was to not give up, to get back up on my feet, to try and try and try, no matter how many times I failed.

My bones creaked, my muscles screamed, and oh, oh, did my body cry. But I bit my tongue and swallowed my pain, because for once, I wasn't going to leave another person behind.

I wrapped my arms beneath Mrin's armpits and hauled, lugging her against the ground. A long time ago, I went for a first aid course. They taught us how to carry people there, with fancy names like fireman and piggyback. I couldn't remember any of it, and I wouldn't have had the strength to do it anyway.

But I hauled all the same, feeling my muscles clench and bones pop as I did so. My head throbbed like the worst hangover in a dozen lifetimes, and my fingers cramped such that I thought I'd never be able to move them again.

But still I hauled. My knees ground against each other, heels digging into the ground. I could taste blood from where I bit my tongue. Something tore in my back, and my vision flashed red and white like Not-Athena gulping down Brett.

And I continued hauling.

I pulled and dragged and heaved all the way to the very end, to where a single leaky pipe stood. A veritable oasis. I dropped Mrin down, collapsing beside her as I did so. What possessed me to give all our water skins to Brett? Damn it all.

With one dusty, aching hand, I caught a few droplets of water and washed Mrin's face. Her bare hands were skinned and covered in cuts from the concrete I had dragged her across, but she seemed stable. I dribbled some more water into her mouth and dripped my iodine onto some gauze.

Slowly, gently, I daubed it against her wounds. First the arms and the legs, cleaning them of the dust that permeated everything. Then it was her gums, taking care to clean it out with tissue afterwards. Then, last of all, I wiped the empty rim of her eye. Even after so many years, it pained me to see her socket. There was something so ugly about it, so visceral and harsh. It didn't belong on her face.

I cradled her in my arms after that, alternating between hydrating her and myself. With the water and the knowledge that the stash of cans was in a hole in the wall somewhere nearby, I found myself drifting off to sleep once more, leaning in a corner uncomfortably.

I dreamt of running through a golden field at dusk.

***

I was awoken by a gentle tugging on my arm. “Fuck off, Athena,” I mumbled. She always did this, raring to go at too-fucking-early o'clock. “We've got nothing important to do, there's no rush.”

“Yes, there is,” came the response. Too deep to be Athena and too feminine to be Brett, I consigned myself to the grim day at the hands of Mrin. Goodness knew what she wanted with-

Ah, fuck. The memory of the previous day rushed into my brain with a mental ‘pop’, and I winced. “Bloody, fucking hell. We gotta stop that thing, don't we?”

Mrin, somehow looking more alert than me, nodded. “Yep. According to my prediction, she's gonna overrun this entire place if we let her. Already, she's begun expanding. Give her two more days, and who knows what we might be facing?”

With a sigh, I rested my head against the wall. “Great. Just fucking great. Can't we run? Brett and Athena aren't gonna be rescued either way, and I don't think they'll want us to die fruitlessly.” A second thought adjoined itself to my grumbling, and I found myself adding, “Besides, you shouldn't be in action right now. You had some god-awful kind of infection just now, and you were half-dead. What even was that thing?”

Suddenly discomfited, Mrin shrugged. “Look,” she said, “It's complicated. What happened to me… Let's just say it was a occupational hazard. Thanks for cleaning me up, though. I'm better now.”

That statement did not make me feel better. On top of this hostile shithole, on top of Brett and Athena's deaths, on top of that monstrosity roaming the halls, Mrin was hiding something from me? Had been hiding something from me? Would continue to hide something from me? Did our years of travelling together mean nothing? Damnit.

I trusted her, yes. I'd always trust her. That was just how a partnership worked. But it was the first time I'd ever considered that this didn't go both ways, that she was lying to me. Probably for my safety, or perhaps for her own, but it still stung. It was another straw upon the back of a struggling camel.

She saw it in my eyes. “Look, Doc, it's complicated. After this is all over, I swear I'll tell you everything. No more secrets between us, okay?” There was a pause, as though that promise cost her something. “And, speaking of which… Did you mean it? What you said while you were trying to wake me up, I mean.”

Oh. That. For a moment, the old Doc, the one who got himself blackout drunk on the day of his med school exams and flirted with every woman in the bar came rushing back. Refutations landed on the tip of my tongue, as familiar as the lies I'd always told myself. I forced them back down. Had I not made a promise to myself? To not take the easy way out, as I'd always done?

“Yes. I meant it. I love you, Mrin. And I'm no poet. I don't have a way with words, or a thing for grand gestures, or even the ability to make this… place romantic. All I can offer you is what I've already given: a steady pair of hands and a partner to watch your back. You don't need to love me back. I know I'm a difficult man to love.” I found myself gripping her hands and looking into her eye. “But I hope you do. I really do. I hope you love me like a rock against the stormy sea, like the sun rising in the East every day, like a couple growing old together.”

“There's a word for that,” she whispered back, leaning in close. “I can't recall it, but I know the Greeks gave it a name. I know it means sensible love. And I know- I know I love you.” She pulled me into a hug, resting her chin on my shoulder. “Never figured I'd find love, you know. Always thought that was for women prettier and smarter than me. Of all things, to find it here and now…”

A tiny sigh escaped her lips, like the swish of a guillotine. I didn't like that sound, not one little bit. “Doc, there's something I need to do.” Her fingers dug into my clothes. “I- Stay here, will you? Wait for me.”

We disentangled from each other, and I said, “I'll wait for you forever if need be. After all, we did wait for each other all this time.”

Mrin pursed her lips, the sides of her eyes crinkling up. “Yes, I suppose so.”

Path G:

As she turned to go, I stopped her. “Wait. I want to help you. Didn’t I just say I was your partner? Let’s do this together, Mrin.”

It made her break into a proper smile. This time I could see the cracks in it, where something that horrible and despairing lurked. “Are you alright? You look… troubled, my love.” The last word lingered on my tongue. It tasted like the fields in summer.

“It's nothing, Doc. Nothing at all.” Mrin turned away, but I caught the flash of grief. Stronger, it was. Starker against the warmth in my chest.

“No, it's not nothing. Don't brush me off, Mrin. Not after everything we've done,” I said, grabbing her arm and pressing it to my chest. “I swear, Mrin, I'm done trying to accept my fate. I'm done trying to make my own heart freeze over. I'm done refusing to admit that I don't care about you, or Athena, or Brett.”

I don't know when I decided that. To be honest, I hadn't quite realised it until the words flew out of my mouth. I suppose it must have been when Mrin burst into tears that night. It always did come back to her, after all. Her and that piercing gaze of hers. It revealed things I didn't know about myself.

But it was true. I was done, once and for all, of letting harm coming to the ones I loved. It was time for me to step up and be a man for once. I pressed her calloused hand to my chest. “Come on, Mrin. Tell me what's wrong. Let's face it together, no matter how horrible. Isn't that what partners are for?”

She looked down, avoiding my gaze. “I've come to a conclusion of my own, Doc. I think- I think it's time I stopped trying to make the impossible happen. I've been stuck here for what, a decade? And no matter how hard I've tried, I can't find a way to escape this place. I…”

“I don't think there is one.”

The admission made her voice crack, and she yanked her hand from my chest as though I'd stabbed her. “Fuck, that hurts to say aloud. But it's the truth, isn't it? There's just no way out. We're stuck here. Doomed.”

It was the opposite of my decision. “Mrin…”

“No! It's pointless, don't you get it?! It's so… so accursedly unfair of you to say something like ‘I love you', right when I've made my choice! I admired you, Doc. I admired how stoic you were. I tried so, so fucking hard to stay calm in the face of everything. I tried so hard not to care. I tried to be like you, and just as I succeed, you do this?!”

She shook, though with rage or grief, I could not tell. “You stupid bastard. You and Athena and Brett, you've all left me no choice.”

“I've got to save you all. Even if it means killing myself.”

“Mrin, what the hell are you talking about?” I tried to reach out again, and she gave me an infuriated look.

“Run the numbers, Doc. I'm never going to be happy here. I don't want to spend my life chasing something that will never come to pass. It's all so pointless. Pointless, I tell you.”

“You're repeating yourself again, Mrin.” Even as I said it, I knew it was useless. We really were doomed to repeat our mistakes. This conversation had been the lead-up to Athena's death, and it was gonna be the lead-up to Mrin's too. I felt that mantle of despair settle about my shoulders, unavoidable as ever.

Yet I had to try anyways, didn't I? Wasn't that what I'd told her just now? Damn, this trying thing was hard. It was hard to get arms to move when they'd stayed still for so long, hard to get the ball rolling when it'd been gathering moss for forever, hard to try when it was so much easier to just not. But I had to. For Athena, who I hadn't reached out to in time. For Brett, who I could have saved if I'd been less of a fool.

For Mrin, who I still had. Who I might lose. Who I couldn't lose, not when we'd admitted the truth to each other.

“It's not pointless, Mrin. You're a fool if you believe that.”

“Are you looking at this place? You said it yourself: we're in Hell. The one with the capital H. We're fucking doomed, Doc.” She gesticulated to the walls around us. “Do you really want to scrape out a life eating out of rusty old cans and drinking stale water?”

“If I get to be with you? Yes. I'd endure all the torment in the world to be by your side,” I said. And somehow, I meant it.

It took her aback. We stared at each other, silent save for the steady drip of the leaky pipe. Finally, in a soft, wavery voice, she said, “oh.”

“I mean it, alright? You bring the light back into this world. I love you, Mrin. You've made an old heart come back to li-”

She hushed me. There was a glimmer of light over her eye, the sheen of tears she refused to let fall. “Don’t start on that. You’d really suffer through torment for me? Endure that much?”

I nodded. “Like I've said, I'm no romantic. But what better reason is there to live than for love?”

“I- I suppose so.” The light was coming back into her, something firm, strong and unyielding as steel. Something like the Mrin I knew. “Okay, then. I guess there's a change of plans.”

“Here's the thing, Doc. I know how to stop that thing.” She paused, as though for dramatic effect.

“And?”

“It's gonna kill me.”

God-fucking-damnit. “Of course it is. Because this entire place just wants us dead, doesn't it?! Well, screw that, if that was your original plan. If we have to, we continue running from it until the end of time.” Or until we died, but I didn't want to think of that then.

“Yes, yes.” Mrin swatted away the thought. “We just agreed on that. I promise you, Doc, as long as I love you and you love me, I won't abandon you.”

The pronouncement made my heart warm. “But then… What are we gonna do?”

She scrunched her face up. “I don't know. Not for sure, anyway. You don't drive away such a powerful possession without great sacrifice. But- And bear with me here, this is absolutely ridiculous, but we have the power of love on our side.”

It was ridiculous to hear the words out of her mouth. What were we, children? This wasn't some silly little fairy tale. We weren't a bunch of sanitised little heroes to go against the big baddie. We were doomed, in hell, fools all of us.

Weren't we?

I swallowed my refutations and said, “Okay? And what does that mean?”

“Love, in and of itself, is a sacrifice, Doc. It's giving a piece of your heart away, letting yourself risk getting hurt, allowing hope to sink its insidious claws into you. To love truly and without reservation is a sacrifice that might just drive away a beast of pure desire like The One That Lurks.”

“This is stupid,” I said, before I could catch my tongue. “What are we doing, Mrin? We've both considered giving up. How the hell is the power of our love and hope going to make anything work? We can barely keep ourselves together! Bloody hell, in the past day we've lost just about everything and everyone.”

“I want to believe, Mrin, I really do. I want this all to work out perfectly. I want to wake up and discover I'm back in the fields near my childhood home. I want to wake up every day and feel the sun on my face. I want Athena and Brett to suddenly come back to life and live happily ever after.”

“When I said that I was gonna try my best, that I was gonna stop surrendering to my fate, that I was done being a coward, I didn't mean that somehow everything was gonna turn out alright. That just… doesn't happen. Not to people like us.”

Her expression remained eerily faithful. “But what if it could, Doc? What if it could?”

“If it could, then you'd have done it by now, no?” Shit, I could feel the worm of hope gnawing its way through the applecore of my soul again. It was a foul feeling, but I resisted crushing it.

“I alone could never have done it. Love isn't something a person can do on their own. But I love you, and you love me, and together, maybe, just maybe, we have the power to stop this. To revert Athena to her old self and put the scraps of Brett back together.” She took my hands in hers. “After all, don't we have to try?”

Oh, god, this was stupid. But I'd promised, hadn't I? “Yeah,” I said. “We have to try.”

***

And that was how we ended up standing back in the altar-hall of the cultists, Mrin and I, our hearts pounding with fear. Mrin's sabre was unsheathed, and she held it in a low guard.

Sure, the hall was empty. Sure, the cultists were gone. Sure, we were in no danger. But that was about to change, and fast. “How much longer have we got?”

She shrugged. “Five minutes, max? We'll hear the first of her soon, if at all.”

Our plan, insofar as it went without reaching the ‘pray the power of love saves us' stage, was simple. Leave a trail of blood from our hidey hole to here and hope Not-Athena would follow.

The blood we'd gotten from a wide, shallow cut on my wrist. Only one person's blood could be used, lest Not-Athena catch wind of our plan. For all of Mrin's knowledge, she didn't know just how smart that thing was, and I didn't want to find out.

It wasn't five minutes when she found us. It wasn't even one. Just as I opened my mouth to respond, a vast shadow coalesced from the ceiling.

“My, my. Two measly mortals. Beckoning me, are you?” Her voice came from all around us, layered repetitions of our Athena's voice circling like vultures. “Something you need, dearies? Perhaps you'd like to join your little friend in feeding me?” The sugary glee in her voice made my bile rise.

“I- No,” I said, feeling my voice crack. “We're here to make you give us back our kids. Whether you like it or not.”

God, what was I doing? How dumb was I? This was a suicide mission. In a moment, I was going to be ripped to shreds and sliding down the gullet of a thousand worms.

Speaking of them, the worms of Not-Athena began sculpting themselves into her form. Save for the size and composition of her body, she might well have been the girl I knew. “And how do you think you'll do that, little man?”

Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “I know what you are, mortal. You're a coward. A worthless, snivelling little coward. And your girlfriend is no better. She is made of bloodthirst and ambition. Unworthy, all of you. Foul. Tainted.” The mass chittered with laughter. “How fortunate you are that I like taint.”

Mrin raised her blade and pointed it right at Not-Athena. “We don't care for your pretty words. Give us back the kids. Now.”

“Or else?” Not-Athena tilted her head to a side. “Will you raise your hand against me in futility? Will you sacrifice yourself in a grand gesture of hopelessness? Will you die for those two snot-nosed brats?”

She shook her head. “I'll do you one better than that. I'll live for them. I'll live and worry and fret and accept that I'm never going home for them. I'll stay for them, for the ones I love.”

“Is love something you'd understand? I don't think so. For all your power and all your greatness, you'll never truly know love. It is what makes leaf litter into a sapling, what spins death back into life, what makes your precious rot into something beautiful. Love will turn the worst of hell into home, love will turn these lights into a blazing sun, and love will turn you back into our Athena.”

The monster hissed, rearing back as though she'd struck it. “And you, little coward? Would you truly wish to suffer for all eternity in the name of an ungrateful whelp, a naive fool and a lying, thieving witch? Would you make that sacrifice? Would you, truly?”

There was an edge to her voice now, as though she were afraid. As though we had wounded her somehow. I stepped forward, ready to back Mrin up, ready to fight for what I believed. I took a deep breath. By some trick of the weather or the presence of the woman I loved by my side, I found the strength to do something, for once.

“Begone, foul beast. You're not welcome here. Athena might be an ingrate, but goodness knows I've been one too. Brett's naive, sure, but look who's standing here trying to save two dead people? And yes, Mrin lied, but we've all done that. Any sin they've committed I've done tenfold. Any flaw they hold in their hearts, I hold in mine too. Any thing I would condemn them for would make me a hypocrite.”

“Nonsense, child. You had a reason to do what you did. You're different from them. See, boy?” Her voice was wheedling, weaker and weaker. We were… winning, somehow.

“And? So what? They had their reasons too. And even if they didn't, would it truly change anything? They're family. That word doesn't mean anything to you, does it? I love them. I love them all enough to plunge myself through hell and back again. I love them enough to face the greatest of monsters for them. I love them, and that love is damn well greater than anything you could possibly summon!”

“So give us back our kids, damn you, and crawl back to whatever dimension you came from. Go away and hope you never come across love again, because it can and will burn you to ash.”

Not-Athena laughed, a vicious, deep-bellied noise, and I felt my hope wither. What did we think we were doing? She wasn't hurt at all. We couldn't make rot bleed, the same way you couldn't kill death. And now we were going to pay for our hubris.

But still I did not flinch, did not run, did not let that fear into my heart. I couldn't, not with Mrin by my side.

“Mortals, mortals, mortals. Always so confident in love. I am the One That Lurks Beneath Rotting Flesh, and nothing so pathetic as true love can stop me. I know what love is. I've felt in my bones. When I gulped down my worshippers, their love filled my stomach and made me warm. What makes you think yours could be any different?”

I spat at the ground before her. The gesture reminded me of Athena. It reminded me of her ferocity, her defiance, that sheer doggedness that would shift mountains. I needed some of that right there and then. “First off, I don't love you. If you gulped me down, I'd burn your innards all the way and give each and every one of your disgusting little maggots a stomach ache.”

I shifted my stance, lowering my centre of gravity the way Brett did. I could use some of his bravery then, some of the faith he held in his heart, that unshakable kindness that should have protected us all. “Second of all, Love doesn't destroy. It creates. It protects. It nurtures. It is the antithesis of love. What you felt was mere worship.”

I grabbed Mrin's hand and clenched it. Oh, how I prayed her wisdome and insight would strike home one last time. Oh, how I prayed whatever black magic she had dabbled in would ring true. Oh, how I prayed our love would be enough. “Thirdly, by the power invested in us, the strength of love, faith and hope, we bind you away, One That Lurks Beneath Rotting Flesh! Begone!”

Not-Athena let out a great roar, her larvae rippling as though struck. It was working. It was working itwasworkingitwas-

She absorbed the invisible blow, rearranging herself and fixing a look of pure fury upon her features.

“Fine! Infuriating creatures. Keep your lives, you are hardly worth it. I will leave. Be grateful for the mercy I have shown you,” Not-Athena announced.

Oh, how my heart leapt! I would have seized the opportunity immediately if it had been me. To be happy ever after with Mrin, I'd bite the bullet and accept that Athena and Brett weren't coming back. Shit, it would be enough for me to just have her. I wanted to save Brett, sure, and it wasn't fair to leave Athena behind either, but even escaping with our lives was more than I'd hoped for.

I opened my mouth to tell Not-Athena so, to thank her for the mercy and hug Mrin and let the world be good. But my love silenced me, and took another step forward.

“Bullshit. Give us back the kids. Now. Don't make me ask again, Lurker.” The last word came out as a sneer, reeking of arrogance I hadn't thought Mrin had.

“Tch. You presume too much of yourself, little witch. Your love is not enough to spare more than two. Direct that blade at me all you want: You shall not get a better deal.” Not-Athena, the Lurker, stared her down.

Still, Mrin didn't budge. “You really wanna risk it? Really?” Her lips twitched. “So be it. If pointing my sabre does nothing, perhaps slashing it might help.”

Before Not-Athena could react, she lunged. Quick as a flash, she drove the sword into the thick of the maggots. As one, they screamed, a wholly terrifying noise, like a banshee and a ambulance siren had a demented love child. I cringed from it, stumbling back and clamping my hands over my fingers.

Mrin, somehow, remained unaffected. “I warned you,” she yelled over the din. “Now give us back Athena and Brett!”

The swarm pulled itself back. “Never,” Not-Athena snarled. “You will regret trying to fight one such as I.”

“Like fuck I will,” she said, pulling back her sword for another go.

That was when it all went wrong.

I'd known from the start that it would. Nothing went right in this hell. Nothing at all. That little nugget of terror, my old frenemy, was the only reason I was prepared when something flew at Mrin.

I dodged the swarm as it descended upon her. They were flies, thousands of them. It made a horrible kind of sense. Of course there would be flies when there were maggots. Nasty, disease spreading flies. They flung themselves at Mrin with reckless abandon, not caring if she shook them off. Their little feet and mouths dug into the exposed flesh from the maggots' attack.

She should have been able to push through it. Mrin was strong, after all, far stronger than me. She should have brushed them off with a single stroke. She should have overcome them, and plunged her blade into Not-Athena's heart, slaying the beast.

But she didn't. Instead, she flung her sword down and curled up, screaming in sudden agony. It was worse than any banshee, that sound of hers, for it pierced me to the very core. Before I could think straight, I was on my feet and running to her.

As I grew close, I saw what plagued her so. Beneath her skin, under the thick cloud of flies, lumps shifted and gnawed. Myiasis sprung to my mind instantly, a remnant of the semester I spent as a volunteer medic in some poverty stricken, war torn land. The laying of eggs beneath flesh.

Not-Athena, The Lurker, that beast, intended to eat my love from the inside out. “Run,” Mrin mouthed at me, before more flies flew down her throat. I wanted to hurl, the sour bile coming up my throat, but I forced it back down. This wasn't the time to be weak. This wasn't the time to run. We'd come too far to do that.

I grabbed her fallen sword and hefted it. Rising to my feet, I turned to face Not-Athena. “You,” I snarled. “You don't get to hurt my love. You don't get to hurt my love, or my kids, or me. You let go of her this instant, you hear me? You're not gonna eat my girlfriend alive, you fucking bitch. I won't let you.”

I ran at her. Goodness knows my form was awful, and my arms were hardly more than noodles, but I don't think that mattered there and then. What was more important was that I made good on my promise, and didn't hesitate. As soon as I finished my words, I was slicing through her.

Slime, insect blood, and goodness knows what else splattered me. I felt things squirm across my flesh, seeking open wounds to bury themselves into. They made me itch all over, a nearly unbearable feeling in and of itself. But Mrin had endured this for me. Mrin had suffered, was suffering, for me. I couldn't just abandon her like that.

“Fine! Take the warrior-girl. I will leave,” Not-Athena snarled as I buried myself in the mass of her body. Somehow, they died by the swarm, everything Mrin's sabre touched dying like… well, flies. Which they were, in a way.

“No,” I yelled back, spitting out the worms that fell into my mouth. “Give me back both of them. I'm not abandoning anyone, you hear me? I'm done! You pushed me and pushed me, and this time I'm not backing down! Prepare to die.” I cleaved one more time, and a face appeared from underneath the writhing maggots.

“Athena!” Her eyes were closed, a shallow slice over her throat. It would not kill her, I realised, though she would carry the scar for the rest of her life. I lowered my blade immediately to haul her free.

“If you do that, I will kill the witch,” Not-Athena buzzed around me. “My children will erupt from her skin and eat her alive. Will you make that sacrifice, little coward?”

Between agonised sobs, Mrin said, “Do it, Doc. Trust me. You- You have to.”

I turned back, shaking off more maggots as I did so. “But-”

“Do it.”

I looked into her eyes desperately. Was this a trick? I couldn't sacrifice her. But that steel in her gaze told me not to disobey. “Do. It.”

So I did. “We'll make that sacrifice,” I told Not-Athena. “No, I'll make that sacrifice. Together. Let me take on her burden. For Brett and Athena and our safety, I'll do it.”

The maggots halted for a second. “You mean that, little mortal? You would endure unspeakable agonies just to lessen your love's? You would sacrifice that much?” She paused, as though wagering something. “Would you sacrifice your entire being, take on the witch's agony and carry twice the burden? Would you die for them?”

I nodded resolutely. “I would endure it a thousand times over. I would die and be reincarnated in the flames of hell for them. What greater cause is there than to die for the ones you love, after all? Take my life, Lurker. I will go willingly into the night for love.”

As a boy, I'd never understood those tales of men holding down the fort, sending themselves off to certain death in a faraway warzone for their wives and children. I'd always told myself that I would desert, flee like a sane person, live a life of comfort far away as hostiles ripped the land I loved to shreds.

Damn, but I was wrong then.

Not-Athena cackled. “What a fine choice, little boy. What a fine choice indeed. I will release those children, and my young will slither out of the witch, and then I shall have you. I shall take you until you scream and tell me that you can bear no more. Then your bargain shall expire, and I will feast upon you and your loves.”

Her maggots clung to my eyelashes, crawling into my ears and nostrils. I felt them in my innards. “Deal,” I managed to say, swallowing maggots as I did so. They tumbled down my gullet, squirming like butterflies all the way into my stomach.

Then everything went black.

No, that wasn't quite right. Everything went to pain.

Maggots slithered under my nails, like those bamboo sticks the Japanese used on POWs. They wiggled past my eyelids and into the sockets, gnawing through flesh where needed. They were everywhere, at my crotch, into my belly button, deep in my ear canal. I was swimming in maggots.

Hot damn, it hurt. There weren't words for the agony. I would have scrubbed my skin clean, ripped my ribs free from my chest, strangled myself with my own intestines just to be free of the itch. I screamed, but it only let more maggots in.

They chipped my teeth, ripping at the sensitive nerves beneath the enamel. Sobbing, I clawed at myself. I'd do anything to rid myself of the sensation. Anything to get rid of the pain, the itch, the squirming. Anything at all.

“So do you go back on our deal? I'm more than happy to release you,” came the reply. It reverberated inside my bones, where worms ate their way through my marrow.

No. Never that. Anything but that. I couldn't sacrifice them for me. I wouldn't. I-

A new wave of agony overtook me. I clung to sanity by the tips of my fingers, trying to think of anything except the pain of those little mouths biting into me.

The memory of a field came back to me. Golden wheat at sunset, wind ruffling my hair. I kept it longer back then, long enough to make girls swoon. I cut it all off less than a week into my life in hell. It was pointless to keep it, after all.

No, I didn't want to think of what happened to my hair. Not when something was squirming into the pores of my scalp, wriggling past layers of flaky dandruff.

I should've gone back home right after I graduated, shouldn't have stuck around, shouldn't have made all those crap choices. Maybe I would have still been at home. Maybe I would have had kids, raised them up in the city, started my own practice and made enough to live comfortably. Maybe I would have been happy.

But I didn't. And who was I kidding? I would never have done it. I was a fucking bastard back then, a bastard through and through. Perhaps this was karma, my payback for my past actions.

At least I'd saved Mrin from it. It hurt my very soul to think that Brett suffered the same agony. Even if I'd deserved it, he didn't.

Still ruminating on your mistakes, mortal? You've paid the price, you know. You've paid it a dozen times over. You could go back to that field of yours, if only you ask me to. You could go back in time and undo every bit of foolishness that led you here. Think about it.

All you'd need to do is go back on your bargain. It's a bit of selfishness you deserve.

Was that my voice? Or was it the monster's? Damn, but it was hard to think beneath all the wriggling. Perhaps the maggots had eaten past my thick skull and into my brain.

But one thing was for sure: I wasn't going to go back on it. Not this time.

Why? You know they don't deserve such loyalty. They wouldn't return it. They've all done something to deserve it, Doc. That's why they're here, after all. Remember that they lied to you, Doc. Remember that.

The wriggling ceased sharply as I moved to agree. Yeah, they didn't deserve it. Sure, they'd probably done something equally horrible.

But- and I felt a blast of agony as I thought it- I loved them. I cared. And that alone meant more than a thousand lies. That meant more than all the maggots feasting on me. That meant everything to me.

A pair of arms seized me then, grabbing my elbows roughly. In my shock, I coughed out a handful of larvae.

Through the grey haze, a girl was yelling. Her voice was high, familiar, and absolutely furious. “Let him go, you crazy insect bitch! He's ours, you hear me?! Keep your filthy worms off of him!”

Athena. My Athena. Our Athena. She was alive and kicking, the very same as she had been before. That, too, was everything.

So when a second and third pair of hands caught me, I began struggling towards them. Because they were my family, my everything, and I meant something to them in return.

I coughed up thick worm-ridden phlegm, kicking my legs in a twisted facsimile of that time I'd tried and failed to swim in the lake, and crawled. My progress made the movement of a snail seem lighting-fast; the maggots resisted me at every turn, contracting simultaneously like a sphincter.

But still I was stronger, and soon I found my nose free of the swarm. Miraculously, my insides were un-maggot-infested- had it all been a hallucination? A ploy by Not-Athena to make me break my own promise? It sounded like something she would do.

She released a furious cry as I gasped for air. “You are mine, mortal! You sacrificed yourself to me. Don't you dare deny me now,” she snarled.

Mrin let go of my hands. “He's ours, Lurker, fair and square. He has paid his debt with a whole-hearted sacrifice, and refused to back down. He, my two friends, and I are all free to go. Or are you going to cause a fuss?” The deadly gleam in her eye gave even me pause. “You know who the forces of nature will side with here, Lurker. Scram.”

Not-Athena puffed herself up angrily, but spat me out. “Do not think I do this because I fear you, little witch. Keep your not-coward, he was hardly worth it. And those two children were practically all skin and bones anyways.” She paused for a moment to look at our Athena. The maggots whispered something that I could not catch, something that sounded like an offer. One last ploy to catch us, one last worm of a string to reel up her dinner.

For a fleeting moment, desire came over Athena's face, a yearning that I'd never seen before. This was it, I thought. After everything we did, we were gonna die because that damned girl never learnt the meaning of self control. I closed my eyes and flexed my wonderfully free fingers one last time.

“No,” she said suddenly. “I’m sorry, but I can't accept that. You should leave, worm bitch. Don't let me catch you hanging around here again.” She puffed up her chest in a vague facsimile of Mrin, staring down the monster coldly.

Not-Athena let out a final hiss, then evaporated. Hundreds of thousands of larvae burst into flies simultaneously, scattering faster than I could catch them. Within seconds, we stood in an empty hall, safe from cultists and monsters and all the other nasties. Just me and my family.

We stared at each other, me drenched in slime and them panting heavily, all mysteriously unharmed. Even the slice at Athena's neck was naught more than a scar.

I reached out to put my hand on her shoulder, and she backed away. “You saved me,” she stated. “Even though you knew what I did.”

I shook my head. “That was all Mrin. If it were up to me, I would have left both of you in there and ran for my life.”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “Sure you would. That's why you put yourself through… that. Because you just wanted to run away and abandon us.”

I couldn't argue with that.

Brett stepped up and pulled me into a bear hug. Damn, but that boy was too big for his own good. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “For saving me. And I'm sorry I argued with you. It was wrong of me to call you all those names, especially when you've been looking after us all and I know it must have been hard on-”

I shushed him. “Nonsense. You were in the right there. We're family, aren't we? And family lets the little things slide.”

“Little things like torturing a cultist? I do believe your exact words were ‘I just can't think of a monster that would've done this’.” Athena, of course. Who else would speak like that?

“We're having a moment here, girl. Stop trying to ruin it.” I patted Brett on the back again, and he released me. “Thanks for not crushing my lungs, Brett. I've had quite enough suffering for one day.”

He laughed at that and stepped away, turning to his girlfriend. “Athena,” he said, lighting up as they locked gazes.

“What?” She looked away guiltily. “Are you mad at me for… you know, killing that guy? Because it was inexcusable. And it was unforgivable. And if you hate me now, I completely understand.”

Brett shook his head. “I don't hate you, Athena. I would never hate you.” He took a deep breath and stepped closer. This time, she didn't move away, looking up at him with arms crossed. “I love you and I loved you and I will always love you.”

“That's a bit excessive, isn't it?”

He scoffed. “I ran into a horde of cultists for you. I looked a monster in the eye and confessed to her my undying love for you. I would give you my head on a plate, Athena.”

Then they kissed. Sometimes it upset me that they seemed to be living in a post-apocalyptic romance and I a horror movie.

That, of course, was when I realised I hadn't heard a peep from my love, the one who had saved us all, whether she was willing to admit it or not. I turned to face her, and found her staring, dead on, down a hallway, half-turned away from us. “Mrin?”

She didn't respond. “Hey, you good?”

A quiet sob escaped her lips. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“Huh?”

She whipped around. “Did you even understand what I was trying to do? Did you know how badly that could have gone, when you ran off the script? Did you even think when you volunteered to get tortured like that? I knew how to get myself out, damnit! Why would you just sacrifice yourself like that?”

“Because I love you, Mrin. I love you and I would burn in a thousand hells just to keep you safe,” I replied, reaching out for her.

She all but threw herself in my arms. “Stupid old man,” she mumbled into my neck. “Doesn't know the first thing about magic and goes and makes a deal with a fucking Lurker. Stupid, stupid old man.”

I gave her a helpless smile. “You didn't know that already?”

“Do you know what you've done? You've singlehandedly made a sacrifice grand enough to dispel a goddess and resurrect the dead twice. You healed me. You damn well worked high magic.” She snorted, as though disbelieving her own words. “And high magic is exactly what we need to escape this hellhole.”

“Oh god, not this again.”

“No, no, hear me out here. All we need to do is repeat this entire ordeal. We can simulate it with the Twisteds down by the hospital rooms. Start by chaining, say, Athena, to a wall-” She cut herself off.

“Wait, you're right. This- This isn't going to work out. We're stuck here, and the price we'd need to pay to unstick ourselves is just too high. Out of everyone, I suffered the least throughout this. I have no right to suggest that all of us go through it again.”

With a quiet sigh, Mrin shook her head. “It's alright. I have you,” she said, looking into my eyes. “And I think that's more than enough for me. My love.”

The words sent a shiver down my spine and a smile up my lips. We held each other close, Mrin and I, and for once, I didn't shy away from making a choice.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against hers. It wasn't amazing, as kisses went. I'd lost most of my touch with age, and the memory of both of us in ugly agony still lingered. But it was a kiss, and my first one in decades at that.

Hell was never quite so hellish after that.

Path B:

I watched her get up, a tiny voice whispering to me as she left. You'll never see her again, it said. She's going to take her secrets with her and leave.

I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't be all alone again. I couldn't let her keep her lies to herself. So I scrambled to my feet and followed her, keeping to the walls and praying she would not notice the Doc-shaped shadow that stalked her.

Mrin moved resolutely, as though driven by a homing instinct. Not once did she turn around. Not once did she look back to where I should have been. Not once did she hesitate to abandon me.

I hadn't known she was that heartless. It hurt. But still I tracked her, growing more and more daring by the moment. It was clear she would not catch me, not with her so occupied as she was.

Round a corner we went, past where a trail of tattered clothes told me those fleeing cultists had fallen. Not even the bones were left of them. I stepped over them, wincing as I did so. Nobody, not Brett or the cultists, deserved the fate of being eaten alive.

As she walked, it slowly became apparent that Mrin was retracing her steps, heading back to that fateful hallway where Athena had been morphed in the first place. That was… Bad, to put it in the words of the late Brett. What were her intentions?

She stopped in the middle of the hallway, just beyond the grand room where the cultists had held their fateful ritual. The movement was sudden enough that I nearly revealed myself.

Mrin unsheathed her sabre. She took in a deep shuddering breath. The grief in that noise made my heart break, and I yearned to reach out to her. But she had lied to me, hadn't she? She had hidden parts of herself from me, and if I wanted to know the truth, I too had to remain hidden.

Falling to her knees, Mrin slammed her sword into the concrete before her. By some miracle, it didn't chip. Another deep, shuddering breath. Her shoulders slumped. Then she spoke.

“Our Lady That Lurks Beneath Rotting Flesh! I call you. I have lost kin to you, soul-kin, our bond thick as any blood. You have taken one of mine and turned her to your schemes, stolen another and drank his lifeblood. Now, I call you, and I demand redress.”

Her voice rang clear as a bell, an undercurrent of power within it. It was so at odds to the defeat within her mere moments ago, so at odds to her appearance, that for a moment I wondered if it had not been her who spoke. But no: Mrin and I were the only people around for miles.

She looked up, as though expecting to see something. “Lurker,” she called out warningly. “I'm not in the mood to play games. You know the rules well as I. You know what you're obliged to do. What you don't know is what I'm willing to sacrifice to protect my family. And let me tell you: You won't want to know. So let me tell you again: I call you, and I demand redress. Right here. Right now.”

I held my breath. For a moment, it seemed as though Not-Athena had ignored her entirely. Then the walls began to shake.

Out poured maggots, of course. That was what this whole thing had been about, after all. They dribbled down the cracks in the walls, worming between my feet. I suppressed a scream and stepped away from them, but they had no interest in me.

Worming their way to the hall, they skirted around Mrin, diving between her legs like seafoam and crawling upon each other on the other end to form a tower. Divots formed, mimicking eye sockets and a mouth. Within moments, a woman stood before us.

She looked… different. Better fed. More assured. Older. The ferality of Athena, the form she had taken last, was replaced with a majesty. This was a goddess in truth, I thought, and it made me quake where I stood.

Mrin, however, was unimpressed. She stood her ground, sabre in hand. The great beast of Not-Athena stood before her, filling up half the hallway.

A grotesque smile stretched across her lips. “My, my. Two measly mortals. Beckoning me, are you?” Her voice came from all around us, layered repetitions of our Athena's voice circling like vultures. There was a smirk in it, a tilting of the hat at my hidden presence. That frightened me more than anything else. “Something you need, dearies? Perhaps you'd like to join your little friend in feeding me?” The sugary glee in her voice made my bile rise.

“Give me back my kids,” Mrin snarled, pointing the tip of her blade at Not-Athena's torso. She seemed so small there. I wanted to reach out, to scream and tell her to run, but my legs were ground to a halt.

No, there would be no saving done by Doc today. It was all just too much, the weight of all the suffering I'd carried. How could I care when caring brought me nothing but suffering? Love was good and all, but it had only hurt me. Better that it had happened this way, a tiny voice whispered to me. She was a liar anyways, wasn't she? She would never have trusted you. Nevermind that we were partners.

“I'm sorry, Mrin,” I whispered. “You fool.” If she'd told me, if she'd reached out, if she had opened up, we might have found a way together. We might have run away and stayed safe, instead of this foolish sacrifice.

No, that voice whispered. It was always your fault. Fool boy. You thought you could defeat me a divine being? You're nothing. That's all you will ever be.

Coward.

Blaming the witch for your own apathy? It was your fault all along. You could have changed this with just a little effort. You could have reached out to the girl, stopped bickering with the boy, actually bothered opening up to the one you call your love. And now, you're going to pay the price.

Not-Athena unhinged her jaw, releasing a cascade of grey-white larvae upon my partner. I watched, frozen by horror, as they fell upon her. I watched Mrin slash and hack her way through the horde, somehow parting the sea of vermin. I watched and I hoped and I prayed as she grew closer and closer to the heart of Not-Athena, the One that Lurks Beneath Rotting Flesh.

Oh, gods, how I hoped. How I prayed that Mrin’s faith would be enough, that the power invested in her would bring us all a happy ending. But hope and love and happy endings were for men better than I, and belonged to a world kinder than mine.

By some miracle of magic, neither of them noticed me. I wept and screamed silently as Not-Athena overwhelmed my final ally. It was not a swift process. First, the maggots piled up on her, ripping through clothes and exposing her skin. She did not slow then, not even as they bit into her, gnawing open little patches of exposed flesh that reminded me of Brett's demise. Perhaps that was what it was, a repeat of her death, an encore for a callous audience, a final lap of sacrifice to end the monster those cultists had brought about.

Up until the very end, she refused to slow, the sliver of her steel blade flashing and glinting in a relentless attack. Gods, she was a hero, brave and brilliant and bold. I wish I had told her that. I wish I had had more time to love her. I wish… I wish I wasn't such a failure.

But you are. And that's all you ever be.

As she plunged into the depths of Not-Athena, to her certain death, I did not weep for Mrin. I did not weep for her or Brett or Athena. I wept for my own cowardice, that uselessness that had cost everyone everything.

But Mrin wasn't half as useless as me. No, she was better than I deserved. With the last of her strength, as bone peeked out from the maggots' assault, she tossed out the small, frail body of a girl. The small, frail body of Athena.

How had she done it? I couldn't say. It had something to do with her magic, something about the essence over the material. Athena had been the maggots, and then the body of Not-Athena, and then herself. Or so I theorised, anyway.

It broke the spell that held our enemy together, and the maggots lost their form, collapsing onto Mrin.

Snapped out of my reverie, I reached out and grabbed Athena from Mrin's outstretched arms. She was light in my arms. Had she always been so?

I cradled her against me, watching the woman I'd only just admitted to loving be devoured. I didn't bother reaching out: There was no point, anyways.

As Mrin died, she watched me. There was no shock in her eyes. Had she known all along that I was there? Had she done all this with the faith that I would save her?

Her mouth was open, though I could not tell if she was screaming for me to save her or for me to run. No sound came out, for her windpipe was ripped to little shreds. Not-Athena left her face for last, perhaps out of sadism. Compelled by the strange twist in my chest, I stepped closer until our noses were practically touching.

“Mrin,” I whispered. “I'm sorry.” She didn't say anything, only kept that horrified expression. The maggots started on her eyes. There had to be something I could do, if only to put her out of her misery. I didn't, for I feared attracting the maggots’ attention if I touched them, even with the tip of my knife. I was too much of a coward to even save the life of my love. But there was one thing I could do, one thing I did, one simple, ugly thing.

I kissed her on her lips, the last thing to go.

Then I stepped back and let the worms finish their work. They turned on each other when they polished off her bones, lapping over one another like cannibalistic waves until there was only a single bulbous maggot remaining. Then it too ate itself, grabbing its own tail and slurping itself up in a way no science could explain.

I went back to Athena. She wasn't worth it, wasn't worth all the death we'd seen. But still, I took out my needle, unwound a single thread from my shirt, and set to saving her.

The cut on her neck was shallow, though it had bled like a lamb at slaughter. She was breathing, though her chest barely moved. Somehow, the maggots that had burst out of her skin had done nothing to damage her clothes. Magic, I supposed. If only that same magic had saved my love instead of that irritating child's clothes.

Once I was done, I laid her down and waited. A scream built in my chest, bubbling and toiling, gnawing at my insides. Mrin was dead. Brett was dead. And for what? To save that irritating, crude girl?

I wanted to dash her brains on the rocks. I wanted to kill her horribly, like how she'd killed them. I wanted her to suffer like they did.

My fingers found Mrin's sabre. I clenched it until my knuckles turned white. I could hear that call echoing against the off-white walls.

Kill her.

I didn't do it, of course. Why would I? It would be an exercise in futility. They'd sacrificed themselves in the name of saving her. I'd be betraying them if I killed her.

And if there was one thing I was good at, it was not doing things. I stood there and observed her coolly, vaguely reminded of that time we had to put an animal down. It had shivered like her, sick and wounded and yet unwilling to die. I had wept and turned away, unable to witness the necessity of the act.

Unlike that poor beast, Athena recovered, for a certain value of recovered. Her eyes opened and her body grew strong, letting her breaths grow stable and her arms push herself into a seating position.

“What the hell happened?” Her voice was raspy.

“You got caught by cultists,” I said, trying to keep my bedside manner. “Stupid girl.”

Well, there went that.

Her brows furrowed. “Yeah, I remember that bit. I mean-” she gestured around her. “Where are the others? Why the hell are we here? What the hell is going on?”

Was I supposed to tell her everyone was dead? Was that the foolishness we were going to undertake now? “Quite a bit happened,” I replied cautiously.

“What do you mean?” She froze. “Oh god. Did they get taken by the cultists? I'll kill those fuckers if they hurt Brett. I'll rend them to fucking shreds.” She reached out to grip a spear that wasn't there. “Dammit. Lend me Mrin's sword. Did she get taken along with him?”

“No,” I said, disliking her all the more for her brashness. All that bristling, that determination, and she didn't even know she'd killed them.

“Then she gave her sword to you?” The disdain in Athena's voice was palpable. “Idiot. Where even is she?”

I didn't know how to respond to that.

“Doc? You're giving me a weird look.” She froze, as though picturing something horrible. Then she shook it away. “Come on, we've got no time to waste. The cultists will notice us here eventually, and without backup or my spear I'd prefer not to be there when it happens. Where is it, anyways?”

Her fingers reached up touch the scar on her neck, and vague confusion passed over her features. “Say, did… Did Brett try to save me? For some strange reason I remember him. He was saying something about… Believing? Yeah, believing in me. Having faith that I would do the right thing.”

She clenched Mrin's sword tighter. “Let's go. I've got to save him.”

“Don’t bother. The cultists are all dead.” I barely closed my mouth on the remainder of that sentence. And your love, and mine, are dead too.

“What?” For a brief moment, her face lit up brighter than any memory of the real sun. It was one of the few times I'd seen her truly happy. Then it was gone under the clouds before a storm.

The storm, in this case, being telling her they were dead.

“But if the cultists aren't an issue… What happened?”

And the thunder was brewing. Still I couldn't bring myself to tell her in a way that did not involve tactlessly blurting it out. I was a Doc, for goodness sake! I needed some bedside manner.

“Let's take a walk, shall we?” I offered my arm to Athena. She glared at it like it was poisonous.

“Not happening, dude. I'm not going on a fucking stroll while Brett is in danger. Tell me where he is. If you're too coward to go save him, I will.”

I sighed. “You’re not going to be able to save him.”

“Doesn't matter. I'll try anyways. You've gotta try, no matter how impossible it seems,” she insisted.

It sounded like something a younger, less hopeless Doc would have said, and that upset me. “Listen here, kid. You can't save him. At all. You know why?”

She didn't, only staring at me with those dark eyes like a charred piece of wood, burnt to nothing by hopeless rage.

“He's dead. Both of them are.” I spat out the words with more vindictiveness than I should.

“No. You're lying.” She pressed her lips together and backed against the wall, chin raised. “You're a lying fucking bastard.” It was as though she could make it true simply by insisting.

She shook her head, tears brimming, the greatest show of grief that I would ever see from her. “They're here somewhere. They can't be dead. I mean, Brett and I-”

She didn't finish her sentence, instead sinking quietly to the ground. “They're alive. They have to be. They're safe and fine and this is just your stupid attempt to freak me out again.”

“They died and it was your fault, Athena. Do you remember that?” I tried to temper my voice, to deliver the news like she were the loved one of a terminal patient. But I couldn't. I was never that good of a doctor, and this was far too close to my aching, coward heart. “You ran up to the cultists without thinking, you got yourself captured, and they used you in their ritual.”

“Brett died trying to save you, and Mrin died successfully doing so,” I continued. “They loved you dearly, Athena. Enough to sacrifice themselves for you. And look how you repaid them.”

You could hear her little glass heart shatter. She stared at me from across the room, shaking her head in tiny jerking motions. Her breath came in shuddering gasps, like a woman about to have a heart attack. But those eyes of hers only hardened accusingly, as though I were the one to blame for this.

I supposed I was. The thought came with a wave of guilt. Athena was just a child, after all. A hateful, murderous, torturer child.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “That was cruel of me.” I reached out to give her a hug. “We're all we have anymore.”

“Don't come near me,” she hissed, when I tried to embrace her. So I sat just out of arm's reach, staring at her. If it weren't for the lack of Brett and Mrin, we could have been recreating that fateful night when she ran off, right down to the forced coldness on her face. In a way, I could understand. I had spent my whole life trying to do the same, after all.

We waited there for a very long time, her and I, facing each other in matching positions. I wondered if she would cry, if she would reach out to me, if that facade of hers would freeze over. For a moment, I thought she would do all three, those black-as-night eyes of hers welling up while she unfolded herself.

But it was only to get up, and look down at me with that precariously balanced expression. When she spoke again, her voice was even. “Goodnight, Doc.”

With that, she left, retreating into the dark walkways of the cultists' home, just like she had done the first time. I was too tired to curse her out and chase after her again. Brett and Mrin had done that, and I knew where it had gotten them. So I wrapped myself in my bedroll and went to sleep, feeling oddly vulnerable all alone.

***

The next morning, when I awoke, there was a corpse hanging from the rafters. It dangled limply, swinging in the wind. The chains attached to its wrists jangle like chimes, creating a melody more off-tune than haunting.

The corpse was beautiful, once, with long eyelashes and a gleaming smile, gorgeous enough to charm sirens. But no amount of smiling could-

Ah, who was I kidding. The corpse was too young to die, too vicious to die, and too stubborn to die. But she was dead nonetheless, rope digging into the stitches I had made across her neck, dark hair obscuring her face, the rock she had jumped from not far away. She was dead, and I was all alone. Just as I had been before.

I looked at Athena's dead body grimly, shaking my head. “Fool girl,” I whispered.

And it was a testament to my apathy that my voice only broke a bit.

Taglist: @coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

@tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn, @ramwritblr

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west, @differentnighttale

@evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms, @abiteofhoney

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable, @paeliae-occasionally, @an-indecisive-nerd, @thecomfywriter

@seastarblue, @wyked-ao3, @bookwormclover, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @aalinaaaaaa

And @kitkins13 (since you asked to be tagged when I completed this)

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

#Jfc this thing is long #Also if you noticed minor differences between the doc and this it was probably me editing stuff lol #Writing #my writing #creative writing #writeblr #writerscommunity #writing community #fantasy #spilled ink #short story #novella #indie author #Horror

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zannolin · 4 months ago

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thinks about msr through skinner's eyes and clenches my fists so hard my entire body starts sweating blood

#x files #okay this is actually how i feel about them from outsider pov in general but skinners kinda the one who has been there long enough #and is STILL there mind u #to understand the whole deranged mess of what they are and how much they grew to care for and protect one another #he's out here fully aware before they would even admit it to themselves you know #GOD. thinking about someone watching them grow together and endure so many separations and finally be happy #only for them to quietly get older and sadder and split apart and be unable to do anything #and then they're thrown together again but is it good for them? bad? enough? too much? could this hurt? is it dangerous?#you know. YOU KNOW???!?!?!#i need. to sleep #i cant sleep. im thinking about Them

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tautozhone · 8 months ago

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idk how to start this so this post is ab individual action, trying to motivate positive change in the world, etc etc

a lot of growing up in the US for me makes things feel more scary than they are. like it’s actually not that difficult to go out of your way to get a bottle of water or iced cup of water from some random drive through if you think you should do it. either fast food conglomerate or local actually, it’ll usually be cheaper than 5 dollars to get drinkable water. i try to have 5-10 dollars i can justify spending on water, and asking for change, because sometimes when i’m out driving i need to go grab water.

i do not do this for me as much as i try to do it specifically when i see someone who’s most likely homeless on a street corner. i’m sure one day i might do this and they might not be there when i come back, but what have i lost really? a bit of time and a bit of money that would’ve meant more to them, that i can hold onto until i see them next.

the pressure that a lot of people feel when they think “what can i do” comes from this grand narrative that the average citizen can singlehandedly fix the housing crisis. rich people? maybe. nonprofits? not in a day, not all one person still. what can i do is a question i ask a lot. what can i do, not just because it feels bad to move along like nothings wrong with the world, but what can i do that will do anything. what can i do that makes even the smallest change.

i feel like it took me too long to figure out a personal method to what i consider individual action. it’s taking time to get to my own financial stability to be able to do more. but for now it’s as simple as water and cash. not water and food, but water and cash.

individual action means a lot in small steps, go get a bottle of water bare minimum and the price of a meal if you can and then just give it to them. if it wasn’t such a miserably hot place where i live i would keep a pack of water in my car, which i still want to do for the sake of having immediate access to water to give someone who might need it- hot or cold sometimes won’t matter. but when it’s hot out, get cold water, if it’s cold out, a warm tea will hydrate more than coffee will as long as it’s not super caffeinated.

#very genuinely i’ve always felt paralyzed by the idea i cannot doing anything to help and on the grand scale i kind of can’t #i can’t give someone a house to stay in where i could take care of the space enough to get someone back on their own feet #but i can give someone water and some money for whatever they need #one day i’ll be able to do more but for now. water bottles and cash.#what i want to say here is everyone knows bare necessities and everyone knows ways to get them #i also have an opinion that you should sit with and hold the harsh feeling of seeing the world fall apart and help people survive anyway #idfk man #i’ve met some extremely fucking jaded people in my time at college who seem to have no way to piece together that they can do SOMETHING #one of my classmates once complained about feeling bad about not doing anything for a guy on a corner and i recognized who #because i’d seen him too and done nothing at least 5 times before one day on the way home i gave him all the cash i had on me #she’d said she’d do more if she wasn’t so scared and anxious of being hurt. i don’t see how he could even look harmful or dangerous #he blessed me and offered a hug and asked me to have a good day and said thank you and i still can’t see why she was scared of him #at the same time i hadn’t done anything until i saw myself in someone else and thought it looked nasty. looked uncaring.#i saw him again today and gave him a water bottle and all the cash i had on me. i told him the weather seemed hot #he agreed with me and he took the bottle of water #i think i interrupted him opening it to hand him the rest #he got up and he blessed me again #offered a hug and more thank you’s and it’s so simple but i felt us both human in that moment. talking about the weather in a brief exchange #wishing each other well as we go different ways #he wouldn’t stop thanking me and wishing me well #i told him it was the smallest thing i think anyone could do and i still walked away hollow wishing to have done more somehow #to suddenly own an apartment complex nearby for him and anyone he knew that needed it too #not a rigid shelter but a place to make home #blah blah blah talking too much about a deed done because i get emotional about humanity #tauto talks

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weaselle · 4 months ago

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i want to talk about real life villains

Not someone who mugs you, or kills someone while driving drunk, those are just criminals. I mean VILLAINS.

Not like trump or musk, who are... cartoonishly evil. And not sexy villains, not grandiose villains, not even satisfyingly two dimensional villains it is easy to hate unconditionally. The real villains.

I had a client who was a retired executive for one of the big oil companies, i think it was Shell or Chevron. Had a home just outside of San Francisco that was wall to wall floor to ceiling full of expensive art. Literally. I once accidentally knocked a painting off the wall because it was hanging at knee height at the corner of the stairs, and it had a little brass plaque on it, and i looked up the name of the artist and it was Monet's apprentice and son-in-law, who was apparently also a famous painter. He had an original Andy Warhol, which should have been a prize piece for anyone to showcase -- it was hanging in the bathroom. I swear to god this guy was using a Chihuly (famous glass sculptor) as a fruit bowl. And he was like, "idk my wife was the one who liked art"

I was intrigued by this guy, because in the circles i run this dude is The Enemy. right? Wealthy oil executive? But as my client, he was... like a sweet grandpa. A poor widower, a nice old man, anyone who knew him would have called him a sweetheart. He had a slightly bewildered air, a sort of gentle bumbling nature.

And the fact that he was both of these things, a Sweet Little Old Man and The Enemy, at the same time, seemed important and fascinating to me.

He reminded me of some antagonist from fiction, but i couldn't put my finger on who. And when i did it all made sense.

John Hammond.

probably one of the most realistic bad guys ever written.

If you've only ever seen the movie, this will need some explaining.

Michael Crichton wrote Jurassic Park in 1990, and i read it shortly thereafter. In the movie, the dinosaurs are the antagonists, which imo erases 50% of the point of the story.

book spoilers below.

In the book, John Hammond is the villain but it takes the reader like half the book to figure that out. Just like my client, John is a sweet old man who wants lovely things for people. He's a very sympathetic character. But as the book progresses, you start to see something about him.

He has an idea, and he's sure it's a good one. When someone else dies in pursuit of his dream, he doesn't think anything of it. When other people turn out to care about that, he brings in experts to evaluate the safety of his idea, and when they quickly tell him his idea is dangerous and needs to be put on hold, he ignores his own experts that he himself hired, because they are telling him that he is wrong, and he is sure he is right.

In his mind, he's a visionary, and nobody understands his vision. He is surrounded by naysayers. Several things have proven too difficult to do the best and safest way, so he has cut corners and taken shortcuts so he can keep moving forward with his plans, but he's sure it's fine. He refuses to hear any word of caution, because he believes he is being cautious enough, and he knows best, even though he has no background in any of the sciences or professions involved. He sends his own grandchildren out into a life-threatening situation because he is willfully ignorant of the danger he is creating.

THIS is like the real villains of the world. He doesn't want anyone to die. Far from it, he only wants good things for people! He's a sweet old man who loves his grandchildren. But he has money and power and refuses to hear that what he is doing is dangerous for everyone, even his own family.

I think he's possibly one of the most important villains ever written in popular fiction.

In the book, he is killed by a pack of the smallest, cutest, "least dangerous" dinosaurs, because a big part of why we read fiction is to see the villains face thematic justice. But like a cigarette CEO dying of lung cancer, his death does not stop his creation from spreading out into the world to continue to endanger everyone else.

I think it is really important to see and understand this kind of villainy in fiction, so you can recognize it in real life.

Sweetheart of a grandfather. Wanted the best for everyone. Right up until what was best for everyone inconvenienced the pursuit of his own interests.

And my client was like that too. His wife had died, and his dog was now the love of his life, and she was this little old dog with silky hair in a hair cut that left long wispy bits on her lower legs. Certain plant materials were easily entangled in this hair and impossible to get out without pulling her hair which clearly hurt her. When i suggested he ask his groomer to trim her lower leg hair short to avoid this, he refused, saying he really liked her usual hair cut.

I emphasized that she was in pain after every walk due to the plant debris getting caught in her leg hair, and a simple trim could put an end to her daily painful removal of it, and he just frowned like i'd recommended he take a bath in pig shit and said "But she'll be ugly" and refused to talk about it anymore.

Sweet old man though. Everyone loved him.

#villains #my life

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lowkeyren · 7 months ago

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reverse dating tropes w hsr men!

in which — what the title suggests / those classic fanfic tropes but with a twist

featuring — boothill, jing yuan, blade (separately) x gn!reader

✧.* — wc: total 1.5k, used up half my brain for this (the other half is for pt2 w aven sunday geppie!!), lovesick boothill + clingy jy + jealous blade fr, anyway pls enjoy! reblogs r appreciated <3

gepard aven sunday vers here!

boothill ꩜ .ᐟ

love at many sights with boothill whose memory card was tinkered with, and every time you meet, he thinks he's seeing you for the first time, so he falls for you over and over again.

when boothill returned from a dangerous mission, it was evident that he had endured significant damage. his once sleek and polished exterior was now marred by dents and scratches, and his mechanical limbs were either partially missing or severely damaged. the exposed wiring, usually neatly tucked away beneath scraps of metals, now hung in tangled strands, sparking occasionally with residual energy.

he looked barely salvageable. it's safe to say that the mechanics had a hell of a time fixing him.

though they were skilled enough to piece him back together, his memory card wasn’t as lucky. a tinkering in his system left him incapable of recalling or retaining information in his synthetic brain, temporarily —leaving the mechanics scrambling to find a solution.

weeks later, you find yourself walking down the familiar corridors of the laboratory where your favourite cyborg is being held for reparation.

boothill’s eyes immediately land on yours when you enter the lab. “well ain’t this a surprise! haven’t seen ya in a good long while.” boothill drawls, tipping his hat your way, his voice carrying a metallic twang.

"i heard you took a bit of a tumble, figured someone should come make sure you didn’t lose all your screws." you shrug nonchalantly, a smirk playing on your lips.

boothill's eyes flicker for a moment, taking in the curve forming on your lips. he thinks you’re adorable with that infectious smile of yours.

“heh, nothin’ bad, just had a r-r-run in with some cuties" he says, failing to hide the glitch that caused his voice to stutter. (and that damn synesthesia beacon! he swears he’ll get it fixed this time around…)

“guess you took more than a tumble huh...” you lean casually against the workbench, the sterile scent of machinery and the hum of various devices filled the air; your gaze sweeps over the freshly repaired parts of boothill's metallic frame, “anyway, glad to see that you’re mostly fine now."

“aww! do ya care ‘bout me?” he teases, his grin widening, revealing his pointy teeth peeking out mischievously. you don’t reply, your eyes glinting with the faintest hint of amusement dancing in them.

"boothill, we go through this every time, your memory card's still damaged. you forget things sometimes, so for the 5th time this week, yes i do care about you.”

boothill's expression shifts, a mixture of realization and sheepishness crossing his features. "right, right," he murmurs, scratching the back of his head with his metallic hand. "sorry 'bout that, sugar. guess i just keep forgettin'."

you chuckle and shake your head, finding the situation amusing. he feels like he might overheat from the sheer warmth radiating from your smile.

“you’re beautiful, date me.” (he didn’t mean to blurt that outloud)

you raise your eyebrows at the sudden compliment, “why thank you,” a surprised laugh escapes your lips.

“—and we’re already dating, silly.”

a shower of sparks erupts from his circuits, you can particularly hear the fans inside him sputter and whir. you rush to his side, concern etched on your face.

“wh- are you okay?! you’re short circuiting again!”

and this happens every time his memory lapses. you offer an apology to the mechanic on the next shift for the extra work required to fix yet another damaged wire after your visits. perhaps they should ban you from getting too close to boothill, lest he completely breaks down again like that one time where you told him, yes you actually kissed before.

jing yuan ୭ ˚.

"secret relationship" with jing yuan but he is completely unaware of how his public displays of affection towards you keep revealing the supposed secrecy of your relationship.

on the rare case that the general is found in his office, you are there too, beside him.

“pleeeease? just one kiss, really really miss you, darling”

“no jing yuan, not now…”

he wraps his arms around you as he leans in, caging you from the back. he rests his chin on your shoulder, “then how about a kiss on the cheeks?” he murmurs in your ear. you try to push him away, but he just chuckles softly against your neck, his arms still secure around you.

“no, and get off me before someone sees!” you protest, feeling your face flush from the close proximity, and the tightening of his arms suggests that he has no intention of releasing you just yet.

this stubborn man… you swear you’re gonna burst a blood vessel someday.

as if to echo your exasperation; he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, peppering it with nibbles and gentle kisses. jing yuan certainly knows how to test your limits, yet his affectionate gestures never fail to chip away at your resolve.

suddenly, a series of loud knocks come from the door, you freeze, and immediately attempt to wiggle your way out of his grasp. but he remains unfazed, his hold on you firm, and seemingly unbothered by the interruption.

the door bursts open, “general! there’s a situation at starskiff ha—ven...” yanqing trails off as his eyes widen at your position. the room falls into a momentary silence as yanqing's gaze shifts between you and his general, his expression reflecting a blend of shock and embarrassment.

clearing his throat awkwardly, yanqing stammers, "i-im sorry for interrupting... i’ll t-take my leave now!” with a hurried nod, he practically sprints out of the room.

oh bless that kid’s poor eyes…

you shoot a glare at jing yuan from the corner of your eyes, you just know that he has a shit eating grin on his face right now. nowadays, it’s probably common knowledge that the general’s most treasured person is you, evidently shown by how he latches himself onto you every time you’re within his vicinity. you wouldn’t be surprised if the entirety of xianzhou knows about your supposed “secret” relationship.

“so… can i have my kiss now?”

aeons, he’s insufferable. (you love him tho!!!!!)

blade ؛ ଓ

"fake dating" with blade but you are actually dating —somehow everyone is convinced you aren't.

“blink twice if you need help.” march whispers-shout; dan heng leans against the doorway, blocking the way into your room, nods in agreement.

“this is absurd… i’m alright guys, really!” you try to reassure your friends, frustration edging into your voice. though no matter how many times you insist that no blade isn't holding you hostage and that you are indeed in a relationship with him, they seem convinced otherwise, somehow deducing that you're not able to speak freely.

you sigh in resignation, knowing that they aren’t going to relent anytime soon, and with blade idling in your room, you can't afford to keep him waiting any longer. “dan heng please, let me through, he’s been waiting for me for the past 10 minutes now…”

“good, let him wait.” dan heng responds curtly. (what a guy)

march takes hold of your hands, “do you owe the stellaron hunters something, and him out of everyone?! he looks scary…and totally not your type!”

“not their type?” a low voice rings out from behind dan heng, the three of you turn immediately and see blade looming at your doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.

“stellaron hunter. stay back.” dan heng furrows his eyebrows, his stance defensive as he pulls out his weapon, positioning himself to block you and march. sensing the growing tension, you step forward, reaching out to gently grasp at dan heng’s shoulder.

(blade’s expression darkens at your hand resting on him)

“it’s okay dan heng, he means no harm.” dan heng hesitates, his grip on his weapon remains tight, but he doesn't move to strike. so you slowly move between him and blade, “see? i’m fine… he’s not gonna hurt me.” you smile reassuringly at your friends.

just then, as if to further aggravate dan heng, blade settles his hand on your waist. dan heng’s hand is visibly twitching now. “what? can’t i touch what’s mine?”

dan heng’s eyes narrow, “...we still don’t believe you, leave now. before it’s too late.”

before you can interject, blade grabs your chin, silencing any words of protest with a sudden kiss. caught off guard, your eyes widen as the unexpected gesture leaves you momentarily stunned. but you soon reciprocate his kiss, his intensity drawing you in.

(march quickly covers her eyes with her hands)

“there. now leave us alone.” and with that, he pulls you into your room, slamming the door shut behind, pinning you against it.

it’s just the both of you now, finally.

“did you really have to touch him.” his voice tinged with possessiveness. “blade, he would’ve hurt you, i didn’t mean—” he shuts you up with another kiss, more desperate this time, welp guess you’re stuck with him for the night.

though your friends might not believe that a person like you would “be in cahoots” with someone as dangerous as him; convincing them otherwise is a task for another time. tonight, he wants your attention focused solely on him, and him only.

✧.*

masterlist gepard aven sunday vers here!

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evanhereonearth · 26 days ago

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The Insidious Cycle of the Abuser Who Says They Love You: Mythal and Solas

Likely goes without saying, but Veilguard spoilers all under the jump.

I have been absolutely wrecked by the end scenes in Veilguard for weeks now, and I want to do a deep dive into Solas's relationship with Mythal and how it absolutely reeks of abuse. Long post incoming!

CW for heavy discussion of cycles of abuse, trauma response, and abuse tactics.

When I finished my first playthrough, this moment hit me like an absolute freight train. His visceral response to her presence and the way he instinctively retreats and flinches back/puts out a hand to protect himself is a full-blown trauma response.

And then she starts talking and moving towards him, and it gets worse.

Solas curls in on himself; his body goes even further into self-protection mode. His face is downcast, not the way he bowed to his vhenan moments before with a straight back and open posture, but shrinking.

And then as she advances, he cowers.

He completely folds inward. He crumples; he shakes, he hyperventilates, and the moment she reaches for him, he fumblingly offers her the lyrium dagger to kill him with.

Is this shame? Yes, of course, but it's far, far more than that.

For the sake of brevity, I'm going to limit this list to the four most widely recognised trauma responses:

Fight

Flight

Freeze

Fawn

As someone whose primary trauma response is fawn (wooo CPTSD), which is intensely common among people who experience complex trauma, especially through emotional and prolonged physical/mental abuse where their needs are discarded, pushed aside, or otherwise steamrolled, I felt this right alongside Solas. My own body responded to seeing it. This is, quite frankly, one of the most visceral and realistic (and extreme) fawn responses I've seen depicted in media.

Mythal in this scene is...phew, something else.

"She was the best of them," Solas tells us in Trespasser.

But she was not good, everything tells us in Veilguard.

Let's look at his regrets in chronological order.

Through Solas's memories of regret, we see this germinate in his foundational regret: leaving the Fade to take a physical form.

He does not want to do this. He tells her he does not want to do this. From the conversation, it's clear it's not the first time she's asked.

And the way she asks? Outright coercion.

"You have so long observed the world. Why not consider joining it?" [I want you to do this thing, so I will frame it as logical for you to make the choice I want you to make.]

"But I have no desire to live as humans. Besides, this talk of taking on a solid form. I think you underestimate the danger." [I don't want to do that. It does not feel safe to me.] "When you took the glowing stone to build your body, did the earth not shake?" [This is dangerous and selfish.]

"The lyrium gives us the strength we had when we were of the Fade; we are the best of both physical and Fade." [It makes us powerful, so I don't care about the risks.] "I need your wisdom, Solas, to withstand the louder voices like Elgar'nan's who would go too far." [If you do not come with me, a tyrant you abhor will make others suffer.] "I need you."

"This is madness. You must know that." [I don't want to do this at all. This will hurt me. I don't want this.] "I will always follow where you go." [Because I love you and trust you.]

Mythal's words in this part are classic abusive framing. When appealing to his natural curiosity does not work and he expresses strong rejection of her logical thought process (just because I have observed this place does not mean I want to go there, echoing his comments to the Inquisitor in DAI: "Many Orlesian peasants dream of travelling to exotic Rivain. But not everyone wants to go to Rivain!") and expresses that there is significant danger to continue to build bodies out of lyrium, she changes tactics.

Her second tactic is that it gives them power--she implies that he is limited and not enough for being only of the Fade. If he follows her, he will be the best of both, like she is. She clearly already sees herself as above him.

Her third tactic is pure emotional blackmail: "I need you. I will give in to the tyrants without your wisdom, and having your counsel in the Fade is not enough. If you don't go against your own nature and desires, people will suffer...and it will be your fault for not being by my side."

She doesn't say those things outright, but they are implied by everything she is saying. He says again he doesn't want it--that it is madness and that she must be aware of that despite her ignoring any suggestion that she actually is. All she is seeing is power and her desires: for Solas to do what she wants him to do.

So he agrees. Because she is his friend, and she says she needs him.

As far as core wounds go, this one is a doozy. It's absolutely brutal, because it's irrevocable. It's a point of no return. It's the first in what will become millennia of regret, of her ignoring the Wisdom she coerced out of the Fade to do what she wants regardless, to continue to push him to twist his nature under the guise of the greater good, to continue to cede to Elgar'nan and enable the very tyrants she promised him to balance.

This regret was deeply painful for me to watch. The nuance here is easily lost if people don't understand abuse tactics and how this sort of manipulation is used. It also serves to bind Solas to Mythal, an enormous sunk cost fallacy in the making--once he has made this choice, there is no going back.

And you see Solas curled in on himself in anguish and regret from the trauma of taking a physical form. It is in deep, painful contrast to his open, free wingspan as a spirit of Wisdom; he will never be the same.

"Have you created what we need?" From the outset Mythal is framing this as his idea as much as hers, when from everything he says, that is not true.

"With this, the proper ritual will sunder every Titan from its spirit. But you must know, those severed dreams will certainly be driven mad, a disembodied blight of pain and anger. It--is--awful what we are doing."

"And the only way to end this war."

Again, Solas offers the wisdom she claimed she took him from the Fade to listen to. He warns her, again, of the danger. He does not want to do this. Just like he warned her of the earth quaking when they made their bodies--they, the Evanuris, started this war by taking what they wanted regardless of who it hurt. He never wanted to participate in it, but now he is in the middle of that war. Mythal was one of the initial perpetrators of this war; she brought Solas into it against his will because he loved her, and now he's stuck. He is past his point of no return. And she is still using his heart against him. She has isolated him from everyone he knew in the Fade; he has no one to support him. He. Only. Has. Her.

This is another classic abuse tactic; if the person being abused has no one else, they will continue to enable that abuse even if it harms others, because they cannot see a way out. If you don't do what I say, it will destroy our children, our family. If you don't do what I say, this war will consume all you have, and you no longer have a home to return to. If you don't do what I say and hurt yourself and the Other, more will suffer, and it will be your fault.

Again, his posture, curled up and broken, appearing to cradle a now-tranquil Titan beneath him--and be embraced in return. This is an interesting artistic choice here, one that aches. It speaks to the depth of his own wound and how much it rent his own spirit to follow through with Mythal's wants here; that it sundered him from his spirit as much as it did the Titans.

"You cannot do this, Elgar'nan! You swore we would give up our commands when this war was over!"

"Our people need our leadership. If you are unwilling, leave."

From Elgar'nan, this is expected. From Mythal?

"Our people must rebuild. And we must help unite them."

Solas, once again, betrayed. He put his trust in Mythal and in the other Evanuris to follow through with their promise. Everything he has done thus far is poisoned in this moment; had the Evanuris indeed stepped back rather than stepped on necks, perhaps Solas could have healed, found a way to live with what he had done, maybe even to make amends. But this starts his war anew--and Mythal is standing with his enemy despite her promises, despite every wheedling word she's used to get what she wants from him over the centuries and longer, despite him turning from everything, everything, he loved to love her. This is the moment where he understands that he has only been a tool to her all along.

"So we did not fight for freedom, but to conquer this land and our own."

Let's pick apart Solas's words.

So we did not fight for freedom: He truly believed that he was fighting for freedom, that no matter how bad it got, that he could bear it for freedom.

But to conquer this land: Literally the land, I think, because of the Titans. To subdue them at all costs. This was not what he came for, but he believed Mythal.

And our own: Our own, our people, more spirits we gave bodies for this war, more who may not have wanted to leave the Fade. Our own, our people. To Solas, he is one of them. In this moment, he realises how much Mythal holds herself above all of them.

Elgar'nan's words are all too telling: "We fought to win. And now the Evanuris are as gods. I do not answer to Mythal's annoying lapdog."

They all--all--see him thus. As her pet.

Because he is. She has, until now, controlled him utterly with her manipulation and "need" for him.

"The people are afraid. They must believe in something." Mythal does not even stand up for Solas here; she does not reject Elgar'nan's perception of him. All she does is further distance herself.

The people are afraid: The Evanuris made them. They are as controlled as Solas and more.

Elgar'nan asserts, "They need strength."

"And wisdom." Mythal has the absolute gall to attribute this to herself, when Solas is the source of the wisdom she "needed" for so long. (Belated addition: And another level here: she may also be saying again that she needs him, but doing so in a way that doesn't require her to stand up for him directly. Honestly, fucking gross.)

"They need gods who can protect them," Elgar'nan continues.

"We are not gods. You will learn that." Solas's voice here is pure defeat. The scales are falling from his eyes.

"Every lapdog holds a wolf inside," says Elgar'nan.

Solas knows that Elgar'nan's "protection" is hollow, based on subjugation. And I think in this moment, he learns that Mythal's is based only in her belief that she is better than those beneath her, who cannot possibly handle themselves.

So her lapdog becomes the Wolf.

"I was not certain you would come."

Solas's opening words in this regret show the distance between them already and how much he has realised he does not know this woman who called herself his friend.

And her response is to instantly blame him.

"You are the one who walked away. I never turn my back when my friend needs me."

In putting this post together, this line absolutely sucker punched me. I've watched these several times already, but the absolute audacity to blame him for standing up for his principles for the first time against all her manipulation? Hoo.

She blames him for doing just that, "turning his back when his friend needed him." She needed her enabler, and when he stopped, she turned bitter. Just like any abuser.

That he goes straight into "The Evanuris seek the magic of the Blight" instead of engaging, honestly shows that he's still Wisdom. That is one battle that is unwinnable, trying to stand up against an abuser's bullshit like that.

"Impossible," she says. "The Blight is safely sealed away forever."

Gaslight, girl boss, gatekeep.

"Though I wish I could believe you." [You have lied to me so many times.] "I have sensed the breaking of the wards."

And her answer is patronising. "I will investigate your claims." [I don't believe you.] "If they forget the danger of the Blight, I will endeavour to remind them."

Solas knows this is futile. "What if, instead, you left the Evanuris and remained with me? Do you not wish for freedom from this struggle?"

He asks her, again, to veer from the dangerous path. He desperately wants to believe he was not completely wrong about her, I think. If she were to leave, he could heal somewhat, for not having so thoroughly misjudged her character.

Am I enough for you? Was I ever enough? is the unspoken question here when he asks if she will remain with him.

And in return, he gets back even more patronising bullshit and hubris. "Be at peace, love. I will stop them."

(Can you tell Mythal pisses me off?)

She calls him love. What an unbearable insult after everything, to go on telling him she cares for him whilst ignoring his wisdom--the very wisdom she coerced him into leaving the Fade so she would have by her side--and consolidating her own power at the expense of his people.

"As you must," he says. "The Blight is our mistake."

Might be unpopular, but I do not think Solas bears a split fifty-fifty custody for whose fault the Blight is. Could he have said no about the dagger? Could he have pushed then? Maybe. But by this point, he'd already had probable millennia of complex trauma and a deeply abusive codependent relationship, probably also a level of magical bond. Like, sorry, Trick and BioWare, if you want to retcon everything you shared with us in Inquisition about being in service to the Evanuris ("You have given yourself into the service of an ancient elven god! You are Mythal's creature now. Everything you do, whether you know it or not, will be for her.") AND Mythal casually overriding her servants' will and Solas burning her vallaslin off his face and leaving a scar and devoting himself to freeing the elven people from the Evanuris's domination, fine, but I don't buy it. Even if there was no magical compulsion on him all this time, that is immaterial.

Complex trauma literally rewires the brain to survive. She spent lifetimes programming him, isolating him, stripping from him every bit of agency he had. This man did not have the capacity to say no.

When our no is trampled even for a few months or years, we stop trying to use it. We comply. We, as mortal humans, cannot begin to comprehend the compounded trauma of millennia of this happening with the stakes of worlds in the balance. Solas, quite simply, has lost the entire ability to consent. No one of us can even imagine.

Yet he managed to walk away from her somehow, when she chose Elgar'nan. This man is stronger than anyone gives him credit for.

The dagger was clearly Mythal's idea. The plan to sever the Titans from their dreams, clearly her idea. To end the war. For there to be "peace". For there to be "freedom". Except that never came.

His loyalty was to her and to their people; hers was only ever to herself.

And again, she walks away and lets Solas suffer.

What a good friend.

[screaming from the general direction of Scotland]

She put her trust in monsters instead of her oldest friend, and the monsters ate her face.

Anyone surprised? I'm surprised. (I'm not surprised.)

And on top of this, Mythal finally, finally giving Solas one tiny breadcrumb that she had any principles remaining? I think that cemented his bindings to her forever. Not just that the Evanuris killed her, but why they killed her: because after millennia, she listened to him.

For someone that deep into trauma and abuse? Well. We know what happened.

It cannot be overstated that with his imprisonment of the Evanuris and the Blight, Solas saved the entire world. The entire world. Every living being in Thedas had a chance at life because of him. Only because of him.

Morrigan says it early on in the game, that for all the consequences of the veil (which, it also must be said, was not supposed to be global!), "his imprisonment of the Evanuris was just. Had he not done so, all of Thedas would have fallen to the Blight."

And the world has hated him for it.

He woke after sleeping for millennia, exhausted by this immense act of magic, to discover that not only had it gone horribly wrong, but that it had cost his people everything. That Tevinter had come in and enslaved them, released a trickle of the Blight after breaking into the Black City, used so much blood magic that the veil itself all over Thedas has been in tatters--not least because in releasing the Blight, the survivors had had to face down and kill the dragon thralls (archdemons) of the Evanuris, rendering five out of seven of them mortal, and with their deaths over the intervening centuries, the veil had grown threadbare with only two Evanuris sustaining it.

The risks were catastrophic, the price unbearable.

Everything he'd ever done to protect the world could still come crashing down...and in a sick twist of fate, he would be alive to see it.

And, shockingly, so would Mythal.

Mythal, whose fragment has just been chilling in a swamp for centuries in human form. Mythal, whose abuse of him lasted through the entirety of the world's history. Mythal, who, due to the Evanuris's betrayal and her abusee's abandonment, has become little more than retribution.

Mythal, who could have set him free at any point in all this time and didn't, because he was hers.

Mythal, who is the only remaining person with the power to do what he feels must be done.

I find it interesting that they chose not to use the post-Inquisition dialogue at all. Interesting also that they used Mythal's voice actor and not Flemeth's. This feels like a retcon, but we'll go with it. Whatevs.

"I knew that you would find me soon enough. You need the power of a god, the strength that I alone still carry."

She's still asserting her own godhood.

He's not having it. "The blighted Evanuris will soon break free from their prison. I must make a stronger one that can contain them."

He's not wrong. Not even a little bit wrong. And he's also right that she won't help him. Why would she? She never has.

"While the prison is important, it is not the only goal you seek."

"Why should I not tear down the veil? And bring back immortality to all the elven people? They deserve it."

And this is where I get even more raging, because Mythal's answer is this: "The elven people of today do not deserve to see the world they love torn apart to salve your conscience."

I'm sorry, what?

The world they love? The world that has offered them nowt but literal genocide for thousands of years? The world where in Tevinter, they're chattel slaves and worse, fuel for blood magic without a thought? The world where in the "civilised", slaveless nations to the south, they're either confined to alienages and subjected to repeated genocide (that's what a "purge" is, if anyone isn't clear on that) or the remnants of the Dales, who are the descendents of another enormous genocide? The world where elven magic has been pillaged but elven mages in human settlements are confined to Circles and abused or made tranquil or also genocided by Templars invoking the Rite of Annulment? The world where they're called "elf savage" and "rabbit" and "knife ear" and cannot participate in Thedosian religious life because the Chantry erases every instance of elves from even the Chant of Light? The world where it took the Inquisitor installing a perpetrator of genocide on the Orlesian throne (both Celene AND Gaspard fit this bill) and either having Celene reconcile with Briala (Briala and Celene's relationship could be a whole other post. Boak.) and blackmailing them to give a single elf lands and a title? That world????

What the fuck, Mythal, die faster.

I got real mad there for a second. I'm fine. I'm fine!

Solas, once more, simply says, "I must fix what I have broken. I am sorry."

More than she deserves, frankly. Man's a mess, but at least he tries. She's been chilling in a swamp and pulling puppet strings for ages and abusing her kids. Nudging history like it's some sort of hobby, because it has always just been pieces on a board to her. They have never been people in her eyes like they are in his.

"As am I, old friend."

Aye, get tae fuck. Friends don't treat friends the way you treated Solas. The closest thing to an apology Solas will ever get from her is that she pretty much just lies down and dies when he comes to kill her. And she still won't set him free before he does. Has to continue to twist her own knife.

This scene has me riled.

And this takes us back to the beginning of this post.

To her essence showing up to release him from her service.

In what is, to me, the least accountable, bare minimum non-apology (she never actually says she's sorry) I've had the displeasure to witness in a videogame, with Solas literally cowering before her and offering her a knife to kill him with since this is the first time he's seen her actual, non-Flemythal face since she died.

This was never a friendship of equals. Ever.

She got one thing right. She did break him. But she knew it all this time, and she never took a single step to put it right until pushed. Her corner of the Crossroads, which he built for her in the desperate hope that she would show a glimmer of the friend he believed she was, notably has a pair of wolf statues. Both beheaded.

She's spent all this time punishing him further.

He never went to visit her? I wouldn't either. I could not blame him.

This has gone to an angry place. So let's conclude with what is, I think, the entire point.

Grace.

"I lied. I betrayed you."

"I forgive you."

Has anyone--anyone--in all his long life, ever said those words to him?

I'll say that again: has anyone--ANYONE--in all his millennia of existence, EVER said those words to him?

I forgive you.

Mythal certainly didn't.

The world certainly didn't.

He has shouldered all the blame of an entire pantheon, a war that broke the world, a blight, everything, always, and while people have come alongside him to help him, I am not sure anyone (certainly not anyone he cares about) has given him the grace of forgiveness.

The beauty of this final scene for me wasn't just Ilaana, wasn't just Ilaana reuniting with the man she has loved for a decade who has spent all that time pushing her away so he couldn't--in his mind--inevitably poison the love of the only person who has seen his spirit and cherished it without twisting him.

It was the slow realisation that Rook trusted his love enough to try.

It was Morrigan, who carries all Mythal's memories and her own of Flemythal's abuse and machinations, who responds to Rook's question about her views of Solas with: "Or do you mean to discover if I would stand directly against the Dread Wolf, were there a need? I shall aid you in any way but that. What has passed between Solas and Mythal...I beg you: do not ask this of me again."

Morrigan knows. She will not raise a hand against him. She will not try to stop him. She will let the veil fall. She will not fight with Rook. Because she knows this being whose memories she holds has harmed him enough.

Solas, in these final moments, even before Mythal shows up to gut punch him, realises all these people have somehow, somehow, banded together to help him.

Not work for him.

Not be his agents.

Not worship him.

Not follow him blindly.

To help him. To help Solas. To help him, after all this time, take the first steps towards himself. Towards his own essence, so long twisted into something he never sought or wanted.

The Inquisitor and Morrigan certainly understand what it's like to be seen only as the symbol others raise in your image. Rook will learn that someday, but is still naive.

But even with that naivete, willing. Present. Able to put aside being a chess piece on his board. Able to see that they would never have succeeded without his help. Able to trust two people who know him better than they ever will.

Able to offer him grace.

And when they produce Mythal's essence, how that must brutalise him; to think that perhaps all this has been to let his abuser kill him back. He clearly thinks that's what's happening. He breaks. He fawns. He offers her the blade that has caused so much pain.

Her release of him is the bare minimum she owes him. I've already railed about that.

What is transcendent here, transformative--it is the mortals.

The mortals offering grace to a god who never wanted to be a god.

It's them together showing him a way out of an endless cycle of trauma and abuse. No one of them alone is enough. Without Rook, they wouldn't have Mythal's essence; Morrigan can't go get it, and she can't do what is needed because she's not actually Mythal, only has her memories. Without Morrigan, who can stand there with those memories but from the compassionate perspective of someone who has watched them in horror from the outside. She's far from objective, but she can do this one thing to help.

Without the Inquisitor (romanced or not, still someone he let know him as he most desperately wanted to be known--the Fade-walker, the Dreamer, the humble mage who desperately needed a friend). The Inquisitor, who kneels before him to comfort him. Who sees his hurt and responds.

If romanced, without Lavellan, who kneels to repeat back words he once shouted at the Nightmare in the Fade after Adamant.

"Dirth ma, harellan. Ma banal enasalin. Mar solas ema mar din." (Speak, traitor. Your victory was fruitless. Your pride gives way only to your death.)

To which Solas replied, "Banal nadas."

On the surface, nothing is inevitable, but can also be taken to mean that nothingness is inevitable, entropy, the final void. (Thanks to Dumped, Drunk, and Dalish for this excellent long post on this scene.)

And here is Lavellan, kneeling beside him with those words. "Banal nadas ar lath, ma vhenan."

Nothing is inevitable but the love we share, my heart.

I see everything you are, all you have done, and I love you. I forgive you for the pain you have caused me. I understand, see, and forgive.

No one has ever shown him grace like this.

Ever.

And Solas, this shattered man, sobs.

He sobs.

Someone has taken the trouble to isolate his voice in the video. This man has nothing left. And, after millennia of this trauma cycle repeating over and over, he is finally free to make the choice he wants to make. It's not the outcome he wants; that has to be said. He doesn't want to leave the veil up. He doesn't want to be bound into prison forever with no hope of seeing the world he fought for ever return.

But he is done.

In the Fade after Adamant, there is a cemetery with the worst fears of every companion scriven on shrines and stones. Solas's is dying alone.

After all of this, he is willing to face just that--and would, if not for her.

She knows his deepest fears. She has faced the demon Mythal made of the man she loves. She has given unwitting comfort to the spirit of Wisdom still within. She has seen his sweetest self. Nurtured him, cherished him, and has been nurtured and cherished in return.

Does she want to leave the world behind and spend eternity in a Fade prison? Probably not her first choice. It's not my Ilaana's; she has been on his side all this time, dreaming of a world where the spirits she loves can be reunited with the world in peace and ready to make that happen.

But it was not supposed to happen this way. It did happen this way anyway.

He has sacrificed everything--everything--including his own spirit self, his soul, his life. How could she not offer him what no one ever has? A friend forever, a lover willing to walk the din'an shiral by his side, a companion to ward off the forever alone.

Together, the two of them can begin to heal, with their counterpart who has always seen through the burdens of the world to the soul within.

This is the only thing I've ever had any faith in. Grace I know you carry us Grace And it was such a mess Grace I don't say it enough Grace You are so loved

#solavellan #a solavellan heart beats in my chest #bellanaris #solas x lavellan #solas x inquisitor #solas romance #veilguard spoilers #da4 spoilers #datv spoilers #fen'harel #solas x female lavellan #ilaana lavellan x solas #these two are my everything forever #breaking trauma cycles

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sakuravalelp · 6 months ago

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A dream land - DP X DC Prompt

Okay, so I was thinking about that episode "Perchance to dream" where Bruce is trapped in a dream world and this, even thought really different, came to my mind.

Danny is king or prince of the infinite realms. He's been working on personalizing/decorating his castle in the infinite realms. When he feels someone walking just outside the castles walls. The thing is, that someone isn't a denizen, they aren't in a corporeal body, but he can feel that they are very much alive and feel distinctly human. He approaches the person to ask why and how they are in the infinite realms, but they fade away before he gets the opportunity.

Clockwork, who was with him at the moment, tells him that the visitor from the living, was just the soul projection of someone that was sleeping, and then refuses to elaborate further. Since it's something that was to do with sleeping, Danny decides to go and ask Nocturn, it seemed like a reasonable assumption that he was the one at fault for the soul projection.

Contrary to what he thought, Nocturn informed Danny that Sleeping soul projection was a natural phenomenon that he didn't control. The land of dreams, ("My domain" - Nocturn reminds him), was in the infinite realm after all, and those who have been close to death sometimes slipped they're whole soul instead of just their mind, and ended up all over the infinite realms.

It isn't too different from a lucid dream for them, the body gets all the benefit of the sleep, the mind feels rested if they had a good time in the realms. Except, if they hurt their soul too bad during their little trip, it would have real consequences. Loosing memories, abilities regression, migraine, pain that reflects the soul damage, all either temporary until the soul healed, or permanent and deteriorating, and in some occasions finishing in the persons death. In the latter, the soul is usually too damaged and cease it's existence, or have enough ectoplasm and emotion to form into ghosts with crack cores whose existence is instantly in danger.

Danny clearly didn't like the image that was painted to him, so he asked Nocturn if there was really nothing that he could do. It took a lot of talking and convincing, but eventually Nocturn admitted he could be able to direct the soul projecting to appear on a certain place, but he refused to babysit anyone. Which was enough for Danny, all he needed to do was make another expansion in his castle.

He decided to make a garden to receive their soul projecting guests. The garden was enormous, with all kinds of spaced within it. Playgrounds, picnic spaces, soft benches, tables with ghost and space teamed board games, fountains, and of course, the beautiful flowers that surrounded and decorated the place. Once he got ghosts with gardening, protection and caring obsessions on the place to look out for the souls, he was ready to receive them. It took him by surprise the amount of people that came, the garden was never crowded, but was never empty either, and souls of all ages and places were visiting at all times.

He kept expanding the garden as he heard of new things their guests wished for. He enjoyed spending time in the middle of the garden where souls passed by but rarely appeared, it was calm, but not completly quite with the background noice of the soul enjoying their dreams, and he could do the more mundane king/prince work. Until, he starts getting a regular visitor on his little space of the garden.

Choose the DC character you prefer, my idea is for people who hasn't died in the past but has been in the doors of death (so died and came back would be disqualified but you do as you prefer), but I'm going with Tim.

The soul of a boy around his age appears just in front of him, as usual when he greets new arriving soul, he welcomes him with a gentle smile and tells him he is free to explore the garden. A ghost taker is assign to him. The soul, as usual, seems confused and like he wished to asks questions, but seems content to ask them to his tour guide, and Danny continues with his own duties.

But then, the same soul continues to appear in the same place every two or three days, they exchange greetings and every time talk for a bit longer before the boy leaves to explore once more. It's rear to have multiple visits from one soul, even more so for said soul to appear in the same place every time. By the four time, Danny decides to take a break on his royal duties and accompany his new friend.

~ They get close, and have cute scenes, Tim asks a lot of questions and Danny answers and not-answers a lot of questions ~

One day, Tim shows up as usual, but he is in full Red Robin costume, and well, Danny wasn't expecting an identity reveal.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

On the Bats side:

There's an attack of some villain that's able to put Red Robin (or character of your choice) on a sleeping beauty type of sleep while carrying a serious injury, were he stays sleep until teammates or backup gets him out of it. The event affects his soul, making him disconnect partially from the land of dreams and making his soul sleep project almost every time he sleeps.

Tim starts sleeping more often. It's worrying at first, Bruce being paranoid does every test in the book, despite Tim saying he's just finding sleep easier now. But, he was just affected by sleeping magic and suddenly his sleeping easier? Seems like a side effect, and that makes it worrying.

Tim's health in general improve, just like he's concentration and productivity. Who would have thought that working rested actually was more productive than working on less than three hours of sleep and missing obvious details and clues due to how tired you are.

With everything not only being okay, but better than before, paranoia about Tim's new sleeping schedule soon dies, and instead is replaced with teasing about how he used to refuse to rest kicking and screaming, and now he may sleep more than any of them.

On Tim's side, he's loving being able to soul project so often. He knew from the start he was in a different dimension, and he just wanted to know the hows, whys, and everything else. So far, he seems to do it at least once every three days, and he's even gone two times in a row a couple of times.

The garden had a lot of things to do, but Tim doesn't care about that, he's more interested in all the information he's getting. The first 3 times he was given different ghost nanny's, who were more focus on entertaining him and didn't really answer direct question. But then king/prince Phantom decided to accompany him personally, and everything went smoother. He was going back to get to know more about this new world, and maybe to know more about the cute prince/king too. He might also have gotten some better looking pajamas.

Now, he has a mission that takes more than a couple days with some people in his team that hasn't yet sen his face. He didn't realize how difficult it would be to do all nighters after getting used to a sleep schedule. He would usually try to go as long as possible without sleeping, but he decides that he should take advantage of the safety of where they're staying and sleep a bit too. He ended up soul projecting in full Red Robin costume. He tried to play it cool, maybe Phantom wouldn't know it was him.

"Red Robin, even if you didn't appear on the same spot as always, I can feel your soul. I know who you are."

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briefinquiries · 5 months ago

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Tyler Owens x Reader: Too Easy

Request: Anonymous asked: "okay i have a tyler owens request!! him and reader are both tornado wranglers and they’ve always had a somewhat flirty relationship, but at one point they’re out chasing and the motel they stay at that night doesn’t have enough rooms for all of them so Tyler and the reader decide to share and reader has a nightmare? or just some kind of angst or hurt/comfort with a happy ending? love ur work!"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: PTSD, trauma, tornado mention

A/N: I changed it from flirty to an enemies to lovers-type relationship, just because i've been craving to write that type of banter. as always, comments & replies are super appreciated!!! thanks for reading :)

As soon as you saw the familiar red Dodge truck parked outside the motel you groaned.

“Is this guy everywhere, all the time?” Halle, one of your crew members, mumbled from the driver’s seat. She pulled your SUV into the only empty spot in the parking lot.

She was referencing Tyler– another local storm chaser and absolute pain in your ass. His Ram truck was like a symbol all around Oklahoma. Everyone in the midwest knew his name– and what he did. You, on the other hand, knew him as a self-absorbed jerk that constantly put his and his team’s lives in danger for a few hundred thousand views on YouTube. He was cocky and obnoxious and arrogant. And you couldn’t stand him.

Unfortunately for you though, Tyler Owens and his entire team went where the storms went. Which meant that you were stuck dealing with him– especially during tornado season.

“Let’s just get a room, maybe we missed him,” you mumbled before turning to the backseat. “Anna, could you pass me my bag?”

“Sure thing,” she replied, grunting as she handed your duffel over.

“How about two rooms tonight?” you suggested. “I feel like I haven’t actually slept since we were in Austin.”

“God, I’ve been waiting for you to suggest that,” Halle mumbled. The bags around her eyes suggested she was just as eager for a good night’s sleep as you were.

Together, the three of you dragged yourselves towards the motel lobby, exhausted and desperate for both a shower and a bed.

“Why don’t you guys wait with all the gear? I’ll go in and book the rooms,” you offered.

“Two of them,” Halle said with a relieved smile.

“Two rooms coming up,” you promised.

They nodded in agreement and settled in on the curb while you wandered inside. The bell above the door rang loudly as you stepped inside. As soon as you did, you realized that, to your absolute dismay, a familiar someone had already beat you to the front desk. You’d recognize those stupid, broad shoulders any day, even if you were sleep deprived.

“Evenin’ m’lady,” Tyler’s little sidekick said teasingly. He tipped his baseball cap towards you.

“Hey Boone,” you greeted back curtly.

“What’d ya think of that beaut earlier, huh? Not too often we get two storm cells like that.”

“Yeah it was somethin’,” you replied absentmindedly. Honestly, you didn’t dislike Boone. He was friendly– maybe a little overzealous for your liking, but overall a nice guy. It was a shame he was always around Tyler– otherwise you might not always be so annoyed with him, too.

“There she is,” Tyler beamed. He approached you and Boone while he tucked a few room keys in his wallet. “Were you fillin’ Boone in on why you picked the wrong storm to chase today? Because that’s a story I want to hear–”

Your gaze fell to the floor, chest tightening the same way it did in the field earlier. “The winds changed last minute– I didn’t catch it,” you muttered, although you shouldn’t even have to explain yourself to this hillbilly.

“Ah, I see. Man, you’re off your game, sweetheart. Usually it’s me missin’ those signs. What do you got cloudin’ up that pretty little mind of yours?”

Anger began seeping into the corners of your mind. “Why do you even care?” you asked icily. “Thought you’d be happy to have that storm all to yourself.”

“Oh, I was sweetheart,” Tyler winked. “But I don’t mind sharin’ with you.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed past him towards the front desk. A younger girl with short, red hair offered you a smile. “How can I help you?”

“I need two rooms please,” you requested, it took about all the energy you had left to smile back.

The girl sucked in a breath of air. “Oh, I’m so sorry– this gentleman here just rented three rooms. All we have left is one.”

“One?” you asked in disbelief, mouth falling open.

She nodded. “There’s two beds, though, if that helps.”

“Shit,” you grumbled. Your team was exhausted– and you knew that you couldn’t just take back your promise for them to have their own beds.

“I’m sorry–” the girl repeated, but you shook your head.

“No, it’s okay. Not your fault,” you said quickly, trying to remember your manners..

“Somethin’ wrong over there sweetheart?” Tyler asked teasingly.

“Yeah, you took all but one of the rooms. Now my team doesn’t have enough.”

“C’mon, I’ve seen you guys cram into one room before.”

“Yeah, but they’re exhausted. We haven’t had our own beds in weeks and I promised them…” your voice trailed off. Why the hell were you even explaining any of this to him? “You know what? Just forget it–” you turned back towards the receptionist. “I’ll take the one room, please.”

After passing your card over and paying, you turned and pushed back past Tyler and Boone. But before you could reach the door, Tyler’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“What are you just gonna go back on your promise? That’s really gonna disappoint your team–”

“I’ll sleep in the damn truck,” you snapped, zero patience for any of his sarcasm or feeble attempts at a joke. “Happy?”

“Hey–” he said, voice softening instantly. “I was just kiddin’ around.”

“Really funny,” you said, sarcasm dripping off your tongue, now more than usual, Tyler was getting on your nerves. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and disappoint my team.”

Without waiting for whatever retort Tyler could come up with next, you finally pushed your way through the door without looking back.

You found Halle and Anna in the same place you left them– still sitting on the curb, slouched over and exhausted-looking.

“Hey guys, bad news–” you began, guilt already spreading through your stomach. But before you could, the bell to the lobby door rang out, causing you to groan.

You took a deep, steadying breath to calm your nerves, just in time for Tyler to speak. “Now I have an idea– how about we share? I got three rooms for my team, but that’s six beds… we only need five.”

You spun around so fast, you were surprised you didn’t get whiplash. “Look Tyler, as much as you know I love your antics, can we not do this right now? Please?”

“Who said anythin’ about antics?” he pressed. “I’m bein’ serious here. Your two can have their beds and you can take one of ours.”

“No way,” you spat quickly. “I’m sleeping in the car.”

By now, Halle and Anna had seemingly picked up on the situation. They stood up and crossed their arms disapprovingly in unison.

“You can’t sleep in the car, that’s ridiculous,” Anna said.

“Yeah, why don’t you and Anna take the room and I’ll share with Tyler’s crew,” Halle offered.

“No,” you shook your head. “I promised you guys a good night’s sleep tonight– I’m not letting you crash with them.”

“Well we’re not letting you sleep in the car,” Halle argued back. “It’s like… eighty-five degrees out here.”

You let your eyes fall shut for a moment, trying to think. But the truth was, you really were just so, so tired. You wanted everything about today– the storm cells you got wrong from earlier, the endless hours of driving, and lack of sleep, over with. And if bunking with someone from Tyler’s crew was the only way to make that happen, well then, so be it, you finally decided. Better you than Halle or Anna.

“See– even your team isn’t as scared of us as you are,” Tyler chuckled.

“Fine,” you snapped, shaking your head in disbelief. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Who am I sharing with?”

Maybe you’d get lucky and get to room with Dani or Lilly–

“That would be me,” Tyler chirped, eyes glistening under the streetlamp.

Well fuck me, you thought.

…

You curled up in the double bed closest to the wall. By the time you got up to the room, Tyler had already claimed the one closest to the door.

You heard the water snap off in the bathroom, followed by the sound of Tyler peeling back the shower curtain. That was your cue to feign sleep, if only to avoid any further conversation with him for the night. You rolled over and pulled the blankets up to your chin.

After a few minutes, he emerged from the bathroom– the noise from the fan growing louder and a sudden whiff of his shampoo washing over you. You’d never admit it– but the way he smelled was actually one of the few things you liked about Tyler.

“I know you’re not sleepin’,” he said as he began rummaging through his bag.

“How the hell would you know that?” you groaned.

You heard him chuckle softly. “Because you wouldn’t have answered if you were.”

This fucking cowboy.

“Well I’d like to be sleeping,” you said, still not rolling over to face him.

“And here I was hopin’ we’d use our little sleepover to get to know each other a little better.”

“You can lay off the act,” you said suddenly, all of your anger and exhaustion just melting into a pool of unfiltered irritation.

There was a brief pause before Tyler replied, “What do you mean?”

“I mean there’s no audience in here– no team members watching, no YouTube subscribers viewing us. You don’t have to pretend to be all sweet and charming.”

“I wasn’t aware I was pretending–”

“Oh cut the shit, Tyler. You love to drive me crazy me– just admit it. And it's probably my fault for letting you get to me so easily. But I mean, c'mon, was it your plan all along to just get me to share a room with you so you could keep me up all night getting to know me better?”

He let out a huff of air that sounded frustrated, as opposed to his usual amusement. “You’re something else, Y/N, you know that?”

You were caught off guard by Tyler’s use of your actual name. He always resorted to nicknames– either sweetheart or the town he knew you were from. In fact, in the few years you’d known him, the only time he’d ever repeated your name was the first time you told it to him.

You sat up in bed and finally turned to face him– trying to gauge his demeanor.

“I offer you a room– I didn’t have to do that, you know? And believe it or not, I didn’t offer it to you just to make your life miserable. I did it because I didn’t like the idea of you sleepin’ in your car alone–” he shook his head. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Goodnight.”

Before you could even think of a reply, Tyler was peeling back the covers of his own bed and crawling in. He laid on his left side, back facing you.

You stayed in place for a moment, too stunned to move or speak or do much of anything.

Eventually, you laid back down, trying your best to deny the pool of guilt spreading through your stomach.

…

With one arm you held on to your sister's hand as hard as you could– feeling the muscles in your shoulder strain and pop as you did.

“Hold on!” you shouted, pleading with her not to let go.

With your other hand, you were clinging to the handle on the storm shelter door. Somehow it had managed to pop open after the two of you had escaped inside.

She looked down at you, her body suspended in the air– nothing but sheer, unfiltered terror reflecting in her round-rimmed glasses.

“C’mon!” you screamed.

“Please–” she gasped. “Please don’t let me go!”

“I got you!” you screamed, but you could feel that your grip on her clammy hand wasn’t as tight as it needed to be. “No–” you yelled.

“Don’t let me go–” she repeated, nails digging into your skin desperately.

But you didn’t even have time to adjust your grip before she was slipping away– in the end, the winds won.

In the blink of an eye, her body was being sucked away from you– further and further into the dark storm clouds barreling your way.

“No!” you screamed, reaching for the spot her body was moments before. “No!”

But then you felt your own grip slipping on the door handle and you knew you needed both hands to hold on if you wanted to survive. So, using all your strength– you dragged yourself to the bottom of the storm shelter. You found the safest corner– next to some old piping to curl up.

The whole time the storm raged on above you– you couldn’t stop screaming. So, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your forehead against your knees, making yourself as small as possible. And then, with everything you had left, you wound your arms around the piping and held on like your life depended on it… because it did.

…

Your name sounded so distant when you heard someone calling it– like it was miles away. Then, vaguely, it came more into focus as it was called again.

The third time, it was right next to you– and it was familiar… but you didn’t dare to look up. What if the storm was still raging outside? What if it took you next?

Hands gripped your shoulders– causing you to jolt awake.

Your eyes shot open as you pulled yourself from your nightmare. Tyler was sitting on the edge of your bed, his mouth hung open, like he was out of breath.

“Tyler?” you croaked, attempting to sit up from the mattress.

“You’re okay,” he said instantly. “You’re okay– you’re safe.”

Once you had managed to sit up, you studied Tyler’s face for a moment, trying desperately to gauge if any of this was real. Despite the darkness around you, you could still make out every feature– every crease, every freckle, every single piece of stubble that made up his shaved beard. And as much as you’d admired Tyler’s face in the last few years, even you knew that you couldn’t have been that detailed in your imagination.

You wanted to ask what the hell he was doing there– how he had gotten in her room, when all of a sudden, the same memories that had plagued you in your dream resurfaced in your mind.

The sight of the EF4 tornado that destroyed every inch of your childhood home. The image of your sister’s terrified face– right before she was ripped from your grasp. The sound of her scream, dissipating with the raging winds.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Tyler soothed.

You turned to face him– Tyler was here because he’d let you share his room… because he was way kinder than you ever gave him credit for. And now he was here– witnessing you completely falling apart.

Tyler’s lips began moving– he was talking. But despite the vague comfort from his tone of voice, you couldn’t really make out what he was saying. It was like the winds were still raging around you– muffling everything.

You felt like your heart might just beat out of your chest– maybe that was the tornado working to rip it from your skin.

“Hey–” a voice… no, not a voice. Tyler’s voice, said. “You gotta breathe.”

What was he talking about? You were breathing– of course you were breathing. Unless... unless the tornado ripped out your lungs instead of your heart. And now that you thought about it, no, actually, you weren’t breathing. You tried to inhale in, but the air wouldn’t come. You gasped, chest tightening while you began to tremble.

Your lungs weren’t in your chest– your lungs flew away– just like your sister.

Firm, rough hands cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look forward. You were met by Tyler’s green eyes, currently blown open and wide with worry.

“Breathe, baby,” he instructed. “With me– look.”

Baby, you thought. That was a new one. You didn’t hate it nearly as much as you hated sweetheart.

You watched desperately as Tyler inhaled and exhaled exaggeratedly, like he was hoping you’d follow along.

You tried. Really, you did.

Your wide, desperate eyes met his. But instead of following along, all you could do was imagine what your sister’s body had looked like after being struck by debris and tossed halfway across town–

“With me,” Tyler repeated firmly, his thumb stroking across the surface of your cheek gently. You leaned into his touch, craving comfort.

Tyler continued producing loud and deliberate, slow and calming breaths. After a few seconds, you latched onto the sound, mimicking it, and following along the best that you could.

Your shoulders relaxed slightly when you realized that you could actually breathe– which meant that EF5 hadn’t actually ripped them out of your chest.

Tyler’s brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. “There you go,” he whispered.

“Did I wake you up?” you asked quietly, feeling even guiltier than you had for snapping at him all night.

He hesitated– like he was actually debating on lying to you or not.

“Was I screaming?”

“I mean, a little bit–”

You nodded before letting your gaze fall to your lap, where you began picking harshly at an old hangnail, a feeble attempt to distract yourself.

“Do you–” Tyler began. “Do you have those nightmares often?”

Now it was your turn to contemplate lying. But then you remembered what an absolute jerk you’d been to Tyler all night, and figured you at least owed him the truth.

“Yeah,” you said. “That’s partially why I wanted to sleep in the truck.”

Tyler smiled softly. “And here I was thinking it was because you hated me so much.”

“I’m sorry–” you began, voice shaking slightly. “I know I can be a jerk.”

One of Tyler’s eyebrows shot up like he was surprised.

“What?” you asked.

“No it’s just… that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you apologize.”

“What can I say?” you mumbled, trying to make light of things. “You seem to always see the worst versions of myself.”

Tyler’s gaze softened, like he knew you were talking about more than your lack of apologies. After a moment he sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Glancing up, you hesitated. Your heart had just stopped pounding in your chest, but the thought of talking about what had happened in your home just a few short years ago made it speed up again.

“You don’t have to–” Tyler said quickly.

“No– it’s just…” your voice faltered. “I just haven’t really talked about it.”

Tyler was patient. He stayed still on the edge of your bed and waited for you to be ready. After you sorted through some of the thoughts in your head you whispered, “You know I’ve been chasing in Oklahoma since I was a teenager?”

Tyler’s face lit up in surprise.

“It’s true. I took a few years off… and when I came back, I was upset to see Oklahoma had a new storm chaser. One that everyone seemed to like more than me,” you admitted. You weren’t sure why this was all flowing out so freely, but even you had to admit that it felt nice to be honest. “That’s why I’ve been so mean to you, I think. It felt like you were encroaching on my turf. And then you showed up with your fancy truck– and all your gear, and I suppose I just felt a little jealous.”

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Why’d you take a few years off?”

Your voice caught in your throat. Only when you hung your head did you feel confident enough to answer. “Remember that EF5 that hit Logan County a few years back?”

Tyler nodded.

“My family’s farm was in Logan County. My parents were away– on a weekend trip to Colorado to see family. But I’d convinced my sister to stay home with me, because I didn’t want to go,” the words that were your mouth suddenly didn’t feel like yours. And the trembling hands in your lap didn’t feel like yours either.

“The storm turned last minute. We barely had any warning. But I grabbed my sister– and we ran to the storm shelter. We made it, too– but then the door ripped open. When she went to shut it…” your voice trailed off. “Well you can use your imagination for the rest.”

You finally gathered up enough courage to glance up at Tyler. His eyes were fixated on you– sadness and sympathy plastered all over his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said genuinely.

“Yeah, well…” you said weakly. “The worst part is– I think I remember locking the storm shelter door– but I wonder every single day of my life if I accidentally forgot. Which… I mean, convincing her to stay home already makes it partially my fault. But I can write that one off– and remind myself I didn’t know what was going to happen. But forgetting to lock the storm shelter?” you sighed. “That would be a harder one to forgive myself for.”

Tyler scooted closer towards you on the bed. He raised his hand– he was reaching out to comfort you. But then he pulled back, like he thought better. You were surprised by how disappointed that made you.

“It’s not your fault–” Tyler assured you.

It was the same thing your parents had said your whole life– so why couldn’t you believe it?

“I guess it doesn't really matter whose fault it was,” you said. “She’s gone and I’m not. I took a few years off from chasing because I just couldn’t… I couldn’t get myself in the right headspace for it. Every time I saw a cell forming, I’d panic– and I’d want to run from it, not chase it. Things are better now… but every once and a while, I still run. Like today,” you admitted. “I knew the winds changed. I knew the one to the east was gonna die out. That’s why I chose it.”

Tyler sighed. “And then I gave you shit for it,” he said, remorse in his tone. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you admitted. “And I’m really grateful you let me crash in your room. I think if I’d been screamin’ like that in my car, it would’ve caused quite the scene.”

Tyler’s lips tugged into a gentle smile. “I told you I didn’t mind sharing when it came to you. Plus, I learned more about you during our little sleepover than I have in the last few years chasin’ next to you.”

“Yeah, well…” you mumbled. “Don’t get used to it.”

Tyler smirked. “Does that mean you’re going to go back to hating me tomorrow, when we’re no longer roommates? Or have I finally cracked through that tough ole shell of yours?”

“You keep offerin’ me motel rooms for free and I’ll be an open book,” you laughed.

Tyler nodded, like he was storing that offer for later.

“Hey, I don’t know about you,” he said, suddenly clapping his thighs before standing up. “But all that screaming got me wide awake. You hungry? I’m buying.”

He held out his hand– waiting for you to take it.

“Are you offering me a room and dinner in one night?” you teased.

“And all you had to do was reveal your deepest, darkest secrets and traumas to me,” Tyler smirked.

“Tyler Owens, you’re too easy,” you said, gladly taking his outstretched hand.

#tyler owens #tyler owens fic #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x reader imagine #tyler owens x reader fic #tyler owens x reader fanfic #twisters imagine #twisters x reader #twisters #twisters fanfic #twisters x reader fanfic

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dyns33 · 7 months ago

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Symbiosis

I missed Eddie x reader with silly Venom being in the way. Can't wait to see what they'll do in the next movie.

From the beginning of their relationship, Y/N had noticed that there was something different with Eddie.

She might have thought that it was because he was somewhat famous that he behaved eccentrically, sometimes talking to himself and seeming very agitated for no reason.

Without ever really bringing up these oddities, Eddie had been very honest with her about a lot of things. His childhood, his dreams, his ex-girlfriend, the loss of his job before becoming a journalism star again, his little problems with cleanliness.

"I mean, I'm a very clean person… Normally. All the time ! I wash twice a day, I take care of my teeth, I don't like living in filth but... Sometimes I'm not at home for a long time, and I'm totally focused on my job, and the stress… So, if I can seem a little dirty and messy, I'm sorry, I will never ask you to clean up for me and you can tell me that I stink by patting me on the back of the head. Yes, on the back of the head, I deserve it." Eddie muttered at the end of his sentence, looking to the side as if he were talking to someone else.

"I don't think you're dirty. You sweat a little sometimes, but that's natural."

“You’re saying that because you haven’t seen my apartment yet.”

“Does that mean you want to invite me to your apartment ?” Y/N asked, smiling shyly.

"Of course ! No, you don't… Of course, Y/N, I've been wanting to for a long time."

The presence of chickens was a little surprising, and it was true that the apartment was not in very good condition, but it was a bit like her idea of a bachelor pad, and it was quite reassuring to think that Eddie didn't often bring women home.

It meant something important to him, a sign of trust.

But that certainly wasn't the greatest evidence. No, this evidence took a little longer to emerge from the shadows, or from Eddie's shoulder, after a month of relationship.

Precisely the day he couldn't hold back the first "I love you."

The spontaneous, charming statement came in the middle of the small talk, and Y/N felt very happy, ready to respond that she loved him too.

It was then that the thing appeared between them, looking furious, showing its large teeth.

"No ! Eddie, no, you can't do that !"

“Oh, God, what is that ?!”

"Vee ! Vee, you promised me, man ! You're going to scare her ! And you have no right to interfere in my love affairs, go back inside ! Y/N, sorry, I'm really sorry, I’ll explain !”

“I have the right to give my opinion !” the creature replied, turning to Eddie. "You're ashamed of me, of us ! Anne accepted us ! Anne likes us ! If your new little darling doesn't accept us, then she's not good enough !"

“Anne didn’t really have a choice and we weren’t together anymore, stop talking about her all the time !”

After more or less managing to calm down the "non-parasite" that lived inside him, Eddie did his best to calm down Y/N, who was totally freaked out by what had just happened. He explained to her that Venom was an alien, a symbiote, who needed him to survive, who had helped him on numerous occasions, and who was not dangerous.

"I'm very dangerous ! I'm the lethal protector !"

"What does he mean ?"

"Nothing ! Well, he likes to fight crime, he's dangerous to the bad guys. You have absolutely nothing to fear, I promise. I… I'm so sorry."

Eddie then began to sob, despite all the comfort that Vee tried to give him by telling him that only losers cried like children and that he was pathetic to moan like that, putting them to serious shame.

Even though she was still scared, Y/N couldn't help but hug her boyfriend, trying her best not to touch the alien. She repeated to him that everything was fine, that it wasn't his fault, and that even though this situation was strange, she still wanted to be with him.

This seemed to reassure him, and make him very happy.

Unfortunately, there were three of them in this relationship, and Venom clearly didn't want to be with Y/N at all.

It was him that Eddie had been mumbling to since they met, often arguing about her, as the alien kept comparing her to Anne, his ex girlfriend.

Without any sign of lying in his eyes, he promised her that he hadn't been in love with her for a long time. Their breakup had been difficult, but she had found someone very quickly, Dan, a great guy, and they were married now, and Eddie was very happy for them.

Well, that wasn't easy to believe with Venom growling and hitting his host's head at the end of every sentence, insulting Dan and repeating how great Anne was.

But Eddie seemed really honest. He was friends with his ex, nothing more, and he wanted to be with Y/N now, even if his idiot parasite didn't agree.

He wasn't an optimist by nature, too much had happened to him in life for him to believe in miracles, but Eddie wanted to believe that Vee would come to appreciate her.

He was quite confident as Y/N was doing her best with the symbiote, trying to talk to him, offering him chocolate, keeping an open mind. Many people would have fled the moment they saw this thing coming out of his body. It was quite a good sign.

But like a wild animal, Venom refused to be coaxed. He wanted Anne, Anne was perfect. Nothing would change his mind. Nothing.

"He hates me." Y/N whispered sadly, even though she knew it was useless, because Venom was always with Eddie, even when she couldn't see him. None of their conversation was private.

"Hate is a strong word… He's stubborn, he believes he's right. It's not really against you. If I had always been single, I think he would adore you."

Eddie thought it would be a good idea to introduce her to Anne. In a sense he was right, because it was evident that there was no longer any romantic feeling between them, and that she was very much in love with her husband.

But Y/N couldn't help but do like Venom, and compare herself to the other woman. Beautiful, intelligent, great lawyer with a strong character. It seemed natural to fall for her.

If he sensed her discomfort, the journalist said nothing, spending the evening laughing with the other couple only keeping his hand on her shoulder, putting it back each time Venom forced him to take it off. He was kind enough not to ask her what she had thought of Anne, or if she was reassured. Maybe he was afraid of the answer too.

After that, things got a little complicated. Without doing it on purpose, Y/N put some distance between them. To protect herself, because she only thought of one thing.

One day, Eddie was going to listen to Venom. One day, he was going to see that even if he no longer loved Anne, he could find someone better, and he was going to leave her.

Well, the alien still had contradictory messages. If Y/N sucked, Eddie sucked too. A loser. When he wasn't busy asking for food or criticizing the young woman, he was insulting his poor host.

And if she ended up not listening to what he said about her, only caring about her boyfriend's opinion, she didn't like it at all that Venom treated Eddie so badly.

"No." she said one day, sitting on the sofa, while the journalist was still arguing with the alien for some stupid reason, before throwing up his arms and agreeing to go buy chocolate and tatter tots to calm him down.

"…Uh ? Sorry, Y/N, are you talking to me ?"

"You're not going out."

"Uh. I'll just go to Madam Cheng's. It'll only take a few minutes."

"Venom doesn't deserve chocolate. You stay here, watch the movie with me, and if he apologizes, then he gets some sugar."

“How dare you, stupid woman ?!” the symbiote shouted, showing all its teeth to scare her.

But Y/N wasn’t afraid anymore. Even though he was rude and mean, he had promised Eddie that he would never hurt her, and he seemed to be an alien of words. Aside from his screams, he had nothing against her.

“You, how dare you ?!” she replied, jumping off the couch, which seemed to surprise both Eddie and the symbiote. "I don't care what you think or say about me. I understand that you don't like me, that I'm not good enough, and you know what ? I agree ! Eddie deserves better than me. But he deserves better than you too ! You're an asshole to him ! I forbid you from talking to him like that, or breaking his nose, even if you fix him right after ! He's a great host, you should thank him and do everything to make him happy."

It was stupid, but she started crying as she spoke. Emotions tended to make her cry, even anger. At the silence of her boyfriend and her non-parasite, Y/N felt bad.

She then had the stupid instinct to go lock herself in the bathroom, to try to calm down and remember how to breathe.

From the other side of the door, she heard whispers, but was unable to tell what they were saying.

Then Eddie knocked gently, asking if he could come in, or if she would come out.

"… He's going to apologize ?"

"Yes, I promise."

Trying her tears to not give Venom another reason to make fun of her, Y/N opened shyly, not daring to look at her boyfriend right away, and stood stupidly in front of him, waiting.

“Vee…”

“I’m sorry, brave little morsel.”

"Hmm ? Oh. No, I meant an apology for Eddie."

“He already apologized, love.”

"I don't need him to apologize to me. He meant what he said, and like I said… He's not wrong. But it's nice."

"Little morsel…" Venom whispered, moving closer to her and looking almost sad. "I was totally wrong. I see it now. Eddie explained it to me, but I wasn't listening."

With Eddie translating what he said, the alien explained that for his species, symbiosis was important. They could have several hosts, but there was only one perfect symbiosis, just one.

Part of him wanted to keep his host to himself, jealous and possessive, but that wasn't possible, because contrary to what his attitude seemed to show, he cared about Eddie's happiness.

That was why he was so insistent that he return to Anne. Because from the memories he had seen of his relationship, he had seemed to be in perfect symbiosis with Anne, and since there was only perfect symbiosis, then he had to do everything to get her back, even if she was married to stupid Dan.

He didn’t hate Y/N. It really wasn't personal, it was just logic and survival instinct.

What Venom failed to understand was that human relationships weren't like symbiosis. And in the end, if he had to compare the two, it was now obvious that Eddie's perfect match was with Y/N.

Yes, his ex had helped them, and she would help them again if necessary. But so did Y/N, who had accepted Eddie's special situation, who had stayed despite the horrible things Venom had said, who protected her lover and tried to please the alien.

"Babe…" Eddie sighed, taking her hands. “If anyone is too good for anyone else here, it’s you.”

"He's right."

"… Thank you Vee."

"But you always say she's too good for you. Once we agree, you might be happy !"

"Eddie… You're saying that ?"

"Of course. I still don't know how I managed to seduce you, or why you didn't run away when you saw Vee, or what I did to deserve that such a great girl could think that she's in love with a guy like…"

He jumped a little when she kissed him to stop him from saying any more nonsense, but Eddie quickly relaxed, clinging to her, pinning her against the wall to accentuate the kiss.

Right in their ears they could hear Venom purring in pleasure. They didn't mind until he licked their cheeks.

"Vee ! It's disgusting !"

"You're not listening to me ! I'm telling you to get into bed ! You're going to hurt Y/N if you stay here. A Lady should be caught in satin sheets, surrounded by rose petals, after foreplay of at least twenty minutes, and satisfied several times."

"… What ?!"

"I really like this idea. Eddie, where are my rose petals and at least twenty minutes of foreplay ?"

"Y/N ! Don't team up against me, please !"

"I can help him with endurance. And the rest. I've seen a lot of videos."

"… Okay ! Remind me to take care of my internet history tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, yeah. Less talk, more passion. Little morsel is waiting, I can feel it, and she's ovulating."

"… Aren't you supposed to go get chocolate from Madam Cheng ?"

"Yes ! And I will take the opportunity to explain for the hundredth time why there are things that should not be said."

“But Y/N is wet.”

"And here we go !"

Despite Eddie's explanations, Venom continued to want to give advice and do everything to make his relationship with Y/N perfect.

After all, he had almost ruined everything, so he felt he had an obligation to help these two idiots be happy, living in harmony and understanding what to do to satisfy the other in every situation.

Even if Eddie was already a caring and kind boyfriend, who Y/N didn't want to leave at all despite this little characteristic.

That said, after the alien took the initiative to help with his tongue once, she wasn't really complaining about it.

#venom #eddie brock #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock imagine #eddie brock fanfic #eddie brock x venom #venom x reader #a bit #they are a trio

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lostintransist · 1 month ago

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Secrets Are For Grown Ups

I am demanding my smooches now.

@beloveds-embrace @cherrycosmos392 @mxtallymarks @love-kha1

CW: Asshole Simon and Johnny using you for sex instead of each other. Calling out someone else's name during sex. Pregnancy mentioned. Death of a spouse mentioned.

Simon slipped. Well. Simon slipped first. Johnny slipped up too. They ruined you, tugging you between them instead of reaching out for the other. You couldn’t fathom them caring. Even now.

If they cared about you they wouldn’t have touched you. You had been twenty-four and still so young. God, you were thirty now and still felt like you didn’t have a handle on life. Johnny had been twenty-nine and Simon thirty-three. Old enough to know better. At least to know better than you.

A series of coincidences led you to a one-year work visa and as an American transfer under the 141 task force. You handled paperwork mostly, and whatever didn’t involve paperwork meant dealing with your counterparts back in DC. You keep slightly funny hours to stay working on Washington time but that wasn’t unusual for anyone else who shared your building. The lights stayed at a low dim all day and night because three pm and three am felt a lot alike when rolling in off a job.

You were a nodding professional with Captain Price, Lieutenant Sanderson, and Sergeant Garrick. Sergeant MacTavish flirted with you. You accepted it with a wary eye and a cool confirmation of what he meant each time. Lieutenant Riley watched. He never spoke to you unless he needed something until the night in the bar. Six months had elapsed on your visa when Gaz, as he had asked you to call him, invited you to the bar with everyone. Seeing no reason to not say yes you had gone.

Off base and with a little buzz in your veins you let Johnny flirt. He insisted on his first name as he sidled up close to you halfway through your first drink. You’d always been wary of Johnny’s flirting. He’s attractive with all the muscles he maintains for work, the air of danger that lingers around him like cologne, and that barely visible scar near his lip. Problem is he knows it. Or at least he knows people react to him with pretty privilege. He makes you laugh. You don’t know why it surprises you, of course, he had to have a good sense of humor to deal with his job.

Lieutenant Riley was watching again. The prickling of your senses that tells you a predator is watching is what gave it away. Staying at the bar smiling at Johnny seemed safer until you had to pee. Passing your cup to the bartender with a quick ‘I’m done with this’ you excuse yourself from the bar and wend your way around the nearly touching tables to find the bathroom.

The narrow wood-paneled hallway had a single bulb shining down on you from a sconce high on the wall. Taking the time to dry your hands completely you pause when you see that the hallway has gone dark. Diffusing light from the main room reaches only so far into the darkness. Scanning you see nothing out of the ordinary and let the crack of light from the bathroom disappear as the door settles closed.

Running the tips of your fingers over the wall, the bumps telling the tales of so many decades of drunken bathroom trips, you touch something that is made of steel and flesh. Jumping back with a squeak you search with your gaze for anything.

“Why does Johnny like you?”

Riley. You let out the breath you had been holding. It’s Lieutenant Riley, not someone who would hurt you.

“You know sir I have no idea. Do you know?” You aimed your voice up.

“I might have an idea.” He surprises you with a touch to your neck. Trailing up to your jaw before dry lips brush against yours.

Stepping back you gave a startled exclamation.

“Ah…uh..Excuse me, Lieutenant, I think I need to go home.”

Skirting around him you flee like a hare that caught the sense of a hawk in the sky. When you retrieve your purse from the chair next to Johnny you find a beautiful woman draped across it talking him up.

“Sorry, I just need my bag,” you said drawing both of their attention to you.

“Ah, bonnie,” Johnny started sadly, “Heading out so soon?”

“Yeah um,” you scratch the back of your head, low near your hairline. “I need to head home.”

Standing he ignored the woman flirting with him entirely.

“Let me walk you home?” He steps too close to you but the body in a chair directly behind your ass keeps you from moving for more space.

Glancing to the storm brewing in the woman’s face you try and redirect him.

“I mean you looked like you were having such a good conversation I’m gonna go wait for a cab. Thank you for the offer though. I will see you at the office tomorrow.” With that you scooted past, unsure how you felt about the full body contact required.

Okay, well your lady bits knew exactly how they felt about it but you as a person? You were unsure. It felt like you had been dropped into a game that you didn’t know the rules of. It continued on like that, them pushing you and breaking your boundaries down one touch at a time until Simon pounded into you from behind in a supply closet. You crept closer to that temporary oblivion when Simon slipped.

A guttural moan washed over your back, Simon’s fingers tightening down on your hips.

“Johnny, oh Johnny!” He came then with Johnny’s name on his lips.

Any chance of an orgasm on your end dried up like a puddle on concrete in direct sun. Simon didn’t notice, pulling out and cleaning up the mess he had made of you before pulling you up and then your underwear. He gave your ass a light tap and planted a kiss at your temple before leaving you to the scent of cleaning supplies.

You worked the day in the eye of a storm. Mentally reaching out to touch your emotions you found only a torrent of fast-moving thoughts and feelings. You made it to your flat before the pressure of the eye wall faulted, crushing you under its weight. The next week you had a hard time eating, focusing, and doing anything outside of work really. Work had you hyper-vigilant always on watch for the spooky silent lieutenant that might try to pull you into a dark room. You didn’t think you could survive another encounter with Johnny’s name on his lips.

Oddly enough Johnny noticed the distress you seemed to be under and took to feeding you. He dropped off a snack at your desk every day and chatted with/at you until you ate it all before disappearing into the bowels of the building again. Three weeks after the Simon incident as you had taken to calling it in your head Johnny had pulled the same shit.

Flat on your back, knees nearly touching your ears he rammed into you. Pleasure crested for you as he could no longer hold on.

“Simon,” the breathy whisper betrayed him. He must have thought you to far gone in your orgasm to hear him.

They had to be fucking kidding you.

Would it hurt less if they were kidding you?

How the hell were you supposed to deal with this happening to you twice?

Johnny pulled out and flopped face down on his bed beside you.

Sitting up slowly you lay a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m gonna use the hall bathroom to go pee. I’ll probably be a minute.”

He grunts his acknowledgment and you set your exit strategy into action. Johnny knew you preferred to put your clothes back on for cuddles if you left the bed for any reason. Grabbing up all of your items you stepped from his bedroom hugging your clothes so tight the zipper of your jeans bit into the side of your breast. Peeing and washing your hands you dressed.

Stepping from the bathroom you called down the hall to Johnny.

“Do you have any cheese or nuts?”

“In the cabinet or the fridge,” came his return call.

Good. He wouldn’t think some odd sounds coming from this direction odd then. Tying your shoes on you open and shut a couple of cupboards and the fridge before rattling the dishes in the dishwasher grabbing your purse and leaving his flat.

Johnny didn’t come after you if he noticed your absence. Arriving home you noted the time. It was four pm on a Friday, Captain Price would still be at the office doing paperwork.

You called him as you started packing.

“Price.”

“Hi, Captain. I am just calling to let you know there has been a family emergency back home and I will be hopping on a plane tonight. I don’t know when this will be resolved. Can you send me any paperwork that I will need to complete so my work visa will close out as it should?”

“I’m sorry to hear about the family emergency, you let me know if you need anything. Your contract will run its course, including the agreed-upon pay, and conclude the day before your visa expires. The only thing you will need to worry about is talking to an accountant out here to figure out your share of taxes to be paid.”

Captain Price had always been like that with you, straightforward and honest. Unlike his men.

“That sounds reasonable and doable. If you have a recommendation of a firm I can reach out to that would be immensely helpful,” you stare at your shoe options, deciding which ones to leave behind since your bag was getting too full with the haphazard way you filled it.

“I don’t have one off the top of my head but I will ask around. Will this number still work?”

“No, this is a UK number that will probably stop working somewhere over the Atlantic. Can you send the info to my work email? I will be able to access that until my visa expires right?”

“That is correct. I will send it there. Safe travels and thank you for all of your hard work with us.”

“Of course, and thank you for being a good captain and a good man to work with.” You ended the call before he could think to question the sentence.

A call to the cab company came next. With the car ordered you left a voicemail for your landlord telling him the same information, family emergency feel free to rent the flat out now. It was a furnished option so nothing here that held an emotional attachment would fit in your suitcase.

The only thing you left behind was a framed photo of you standing with all the guys at a party face down on the table. Anything else you weren’t taking got bagged and sent to the bins.

You cried at the airport, and on the plane, and waiting for your sibling to come and save you from the airport. Telling someone that you had been coming would have been smart, but the only goal was to escape. When they arrived Ash gave you the biggest hug which started your crying all over again. You stayed with them and their partner as you tried to piece your life back together.

Taking the month you still received pay from England you walked the trails of the mountains you called home. They brought you so much peace, like hiding in the skirts of a trusted mother. When you reestablished care with your midwives you found out that your arm implant birth control needed changing, it was overdue. Standard procedure for a well-woman check included peeing in a cup.

“Are you aware that you are pregnant?”

The thin nurse midwife with wrinkles, a long dusty brown braid, and beaded necklaces ringing her neck looked at you from the computer. You must have gone white as a sheet because she reacted by having you lay on the floor, elevating your feet, and calling for assistance. Your uterus had been achy. That’s why you scheduled the appointment.

Pregnant? You weren’t nauseous or overly emotional, only a little tired and achy. This was nothing like being pregnant on TV.

Fuck. That meant Johnny or Simon had to be the father.

Did you even want to keep this pregnancy?

Another nurse with a kind face joined you and your nurse in the room, dragging in a portable ultrasound machine.

“Hi dear, this is a bit of standard procedure. There are a few reasons that a pregnancy test can pop positive. We want to rule out some of the harder-to-care-for options. Do you think we can help you stand and get on the bed?”

At your nod the nice nurses helped you to your feet and held on as you climbed onto the bed, laying back. They had you move your shirt and your pants and undies until the top of your pubes were visible. A grainy image appeared on the screen as the nurse glided the probe to and fro in the slimy gel.

“Alright, this here,” she pointed to a roundish object, “is your left ovary. That looks good. This will help me find your uterus.”

She slid down pressing slightly harder into you.

“Here is your uterus and there looks like one, two little embryos.” She pointed with her finger at each little dot.

“Twins?” you whisper, shocked and aghast.

“That’s what it looks like but things this early can change.” She slid the wand further, “Since we are here I am going to check out your right ovary as well and then we will get you cleaned up and discuss your options.”

The options included waiting, keeping, or a self-managed abortion which included a few prescriptions. They gave you a page of information for each option and sent you on your way with a follow-up appointment scheduled for a few weeks.

In shock, you called your best friend first. Larsen had become your best friend in the second grade and you two had stuck it out through thick and thin.

You told him everything. The entire story. No one else knew everything that had happened. Now Larsen did.

He offered to marry you.

You knew he was good for it. Larsen had never fallen in love, found the idea repulsive. The love you and he held for each other was deep and special, but not romantic. Marriage to Larsen would provide safety and stability, and the ability to change your name before Johnny or Simon could think to look for you. Even if you lost the pregnancy Larsen would be the best roommate and friend you could think of sharing this journey with.

“Yes, but let’s talk this over at dinner.”

The wedding had been a week later in front of a judge, with Ash as your witness and his mother as his.

Larsen never pressured you to make a decision about your pregnancy, simply talked through each option with you again and again until you decided you wanted to keep this gift. Simon and Johnny might have treated you as if they were evil but at least you stole something good from them in the process.

You had two boys growing inside you. To the growing delight of the specialty pregnancy team, you were a rare case of two separate fertilization babies. Distinct sacks and placentas meant two independent babies. Baby A was three weeks further in growth and development than baby B. This idea was confirmed when both boys arrived and looked nothing alike even covered in vernix.

Larsen had chuckled and chided the nurses in the halls for the odd looks you and the boys got. You had five amazing years with Larsen before he died of an aneurysm at work. He left you with a boatload of life insurance and two four-year-old boys who had just lost the only father they had ever known.

The boys knew Larsen didn’t help create them but they were so small it didn’t matter. He was their dad. The first thing you did after picking yourself up off the hospital chair was call and set up therapy for yourself and the boys. You would all need it.

Another two years passed, the boys started kindergarten and you started a cake decorating business from the house Larsen had bought you. You had paid it off with a portion of his death benefits. Everything was looking up. Despite the boys sometimes looking exactly like their genetic fathers, they were the most amazing thing in your life. Life was looking up until the house the bus stopped at went up for sale. Your neighbors mentioned an attractive-looking gay couple bought it and wouldn’t you know they had the best accents? One rang of rainy England and the other of Scotland. They were retired military and were excited for the change of pace this life would bring.

Nope, had to be a coincidence. Couldn’t be them. Why would they move to the States? Why your state of all places? No. Couldn’t be Simon and Johnny, you were still safe from their reach.

Except you weren’t.

They followed the boys home one day from the bus, shocked at seeing a child who looked so much like themselves. When you opened the door, royal icing dried to your cheek, you blanched and slammed the door shut slamming the deadbolt home.

The men that haunted your therapy sessions and the aches of your heart had found you. You and their boys.

Part 2

Masterlist | Secrets Masterlist

#cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap cod #kyle gaz garrick #gary roach sanderson #captain john price #ghoap x reader #ghoap x you

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gojos-thot-patrol · 1 year ago

Text

a let my demons get a little silly with it here

Now Loading, Kinktober Week Two...

Synopsis: Ryomen always got what he wanted, it was a simple rule of life. And ever since he caught your scent, you were all that he wanted- your previous bond mark be damned. And you must have wanted him too. Why else would your window be open in the middle of your heat? Kinks: Omegaverse, Breeding, Marking, Knotting, Scent, Dub-Con, Non/Con, Somnophilia, and Infidelity. Reader Discretion is Advised.

Sukuna was going to fuck you. He was going to have you on your back, legs spread as he filled you to the brim, breeding you like a bitch while covering you in his bite marks and scent. Sukuna was sure of this fact from the first time he caught your smell in the air, light and warm and made for him. You were made for him. It was only a matter of time until he took what was rightfully his.

The only problem was you were marked, and sadly, it wasn’t by him. Worse yet, it was by some weak asshole who barely even had the ability to mark someone. Some feeble excuse of a man who probably didn't know what to do once he got your panties around your ankles, much less what to do when you were in your heat. The only thing worse than you being bonded to that douche canoe, was knowing it only happened so you wouldn’t be bonded to him.

Okay, so “bonded” wasn’t really the right word there. “Sacrifice” was closer to the actuality of the situation, but still! You were literally destined to be his, and one asshole wants to play hero and fuck it all up? It drove him fucking mad, what right did that limp dick think he had to interfere? He caught himself clenching his fist and jaw. He needed to calm down before he hurt someone, especially since the only person nearby was you.

Sukuna watched from a distance as you lounged under your tree, finding comfort in the forest instead of the inherent danger you should feel. He had suppressed his scent enough he was sure you hadn’t noticed, your calm demeanor conveying that fact. He could have you right now, release his scent and take you where you sat. But, that wouldn’t have done anything about your bond mark. No, to take care of that Sukuna had to be patient. Which, was a real fucking drag because if there was anything Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t it was a patient man.

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

He remembered the first time he encountered you. Almost a month ago now, while he was taking his regular walk through the woods. He could still feel the full body reset that happened when he caught your aroma, the smell of apple and clove working its way through his nervous system and grabbing his cock his heart in a chokehold. Suddenly, his lazy stroll through the woods was a hunt to find out what decadent creature had made such a perfume.

And that’s where he found you. Sitting contently in a floral field, making a fucking flower crown of all things, and surly waiting for him. He saw your hands falter and your eyes widen as he approached, no doubt because you finally picked up on his pheromones. He could feel the smirk forming on his lips.

“Well, what a nice surprise,” He hummed as he approached you, “I wasn’t expecting to find anyone else out here.” You immediately fell into a low bow before him. Good, you knew your place.

“I’m sorry my lord,” You apologize, though you weren’t sure why. You knew of the warlord Ryomen Sukuna. You knew he owned your village, as well as the villages surrounding it. But to your knowledge he didn’t police who was allowed in the woods. Still, you’d rather not risk upsetting him.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here, all alone?” He asked, eyes tracing the way your back curved into the bow.

“My mate and I moved closer to the forest recently, I was exp-”

“Your mate?” The vitriol in his tone made your stomach revolt and ignited your fight or flight system. You didn’t even know what you had done wrong.

“Y-yes?”

“Stand up, look at me.” He demanded. You did so without hesitation, your omega body naturally inclined to follow the alphas commands. When you did, you were hit with a fresh wave of his aura, the smell of whiskey and cinnamon filling your senses and making your joints feel weak. You were caught between your need to honor your bond mark, and the need to fall to your knees for the man in front of you. You whimpered softly as he grabbed your chin and shoved your head to the side.

Sure enough, right there on your scent gland were faint teeth shaped scars. If he wasn’t specifically looking for them, he wouldn’t have seen them at all. Still, the fact it hadn't been refreshed didn’t negate the fact that it was there. You were unequivocally spoken for.

“You don’t smell marked.” He scoffed as he released your head, taking a step back.

“It’s new…” You muttered. He may not have been able to smell your mate, but the stench of a lie was familiar to him. Especially one as piss poor as that.

“If it’s new then you should reek of him, Wench, don’t lie to me.” He growled. You looked down as your shame rolled over you.

“He’s a beta.” HE’S A BETA?! Sukuna had felt rage a lot in his life. Some may even say it was his default setting. But the rage he felt at being cucked by a beta was unlike anything that he had felt before. He felt his fingers twitch with the need to wrap around someone's neck, and the urge to burn down this entire forest was a hard one to fight. He choked back his molting hot fury with a simple reminder: Beta bond marks don’t mean shit. He could easily still have you. He just had to wait for your next heat cycle to do it, when your hormones were high and looking for something more…substantial, then a betas nub.

“How cute, being mated to a beta. I’m sure you’re crazy for each other.” He sneered. You wished. Leaving every heat cycle woefully unsatisfied and frustrated might have been worth it if you had actually loved the man. If your union to him wasn’t purely survival.

“He provides.” You settled on a half truth to keep from lying, one Sukuna definitely picked up on.

“What’s your name Omega?” He demanded.

You told him your name in a soft whisper. Cute name. He’d be sure to have his servants look into you and your records.

“Well Omega,” He said, making a point not to use the title given to him. To remind you what you were. “You should probably get back to your beta. It’s not safe for a pretty little thing like you to be out in these woods alone.” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that was a warning and a threat, the edge in his words making that much clear. You nodded to the warlord, before making your way home. You fought the urge to sprint with everything you had in you, knowing better than to activate his prey drive.

He watched as you did, noting your refusal to run. Smart girl. He could feel his mouth watering as he watched your hips sway, and his body buzzed with the need to have you under him. He took a deep breath to recollect himself before making the walk home. He’d have you soon enough.

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

He kept a close eye on you in the weeks that followed. Learning about how your marriage was arranged through his servants, and how your marriage was failing from watching you. To your credit, you did try in earnest to make it work. You were the perfect mate. You kept a tidy home, always had dinner ready, and were always happy to get on your back for your husband.

And yet it did nothing. That asshole still acted as if he was gods fucking gift for “saving” your life, and as if you didn’t do enough. Dinner was never right, there was always an issue with the house, and every morning Sukuna could smell your dissatisfaction from the night before- still rolling off you in waves. It was pathetic that a creature as divine as you was wasted on swine like him. The good news was that your scent was evolving. As the leaves changed colors your fragrance got thicker, and sweeter in some aspects. You clung to your beta even if he was woefully unequipped. Your heat was coming.

A fact you were all too aware of. You could feel it pooling in your stomach and feverish on your skin. The effects were already starting, and you knew this one was going to be hell. Your mate thrashed in between your legs, chasing his high in you. You felt close, so close. Your body was trembling with anticipation, electricity buzzing under your skin. All you needed was his knot and-

He pulled out of your quivering cunt, cumming on your stomach with a guttural moan. Oh, right. He didn’t have a knot. You whined as he painted you white, wanting to snap at him for wasting his load. You held back though, knowing that, in reality, the last thing you wanted was his pups. You watched as he rolled off the bed and grabbed his pants.

“W-wait, but Naoya-” You panted, “I’m so close, please-”

“You’re gonna have to finish yourself, I’m gonna be late for my train.” Your “mate” groaned as if you were an inconvenience.

“But…” You whimpered, then let it go. You knew better than to argue, and besides. Your climax was already fleeting. “Do you have to go?” You asked softly. You understood that, as a beta, Naoya couldn’t sense when your heat was coming like an alpha could. You accepted that. What you found hard to accept was that he still planned a business trip during your heat cycle, despite you explicitly telling him that you would need him.

“Yes, Sweetie,” He said it with so much ire and hate, you would have rather he called you a bitch. “This is my job. It doesn’t stop because you’re horny.” He snapped, tired of having this conversation again. His venom shut you up. You watched as he quickly got dressed, then grabbed his bags and rushed for the train station. You fought tears as you went to clean yourself up. Were you really so unloveable?

You often wondered what the worse fate was, being sacrificed to Ryomen Sukuna or being trapped in a loveless pair bond. For years you knew without doubt it was being sacrificed to the warlord. You were always grateful to your father for selling you to the beta, saving you from what would no doubt have been a cruel and untimely death. Naoya may have been cold at times, but surely he wasn’t as bad as Sukuna.

Or at least, that’s what you used to think. Before you had actually met the man, and felt the way your body reacted to his presence alone. Suddenly, the so-called king of curses invaded your every thought, and life trapped in a passionless marriage felt like a prison sentence. You thought about Sukuna constantly, especially in the days leading up to your heat. You chased his faint scent on the wind, traced his markings in your dreams, and envisioned him to endure your husband's advances.

It left you a wreck. Especially now, as night fell and your body temperature rose. Your fingers were doing absolutely nothing for you, and wouldn’t for at least the next week. Which, was rather conveniently when your husband was due to return home. You knew your heat bothered him, but you never knew it bothered him this much. Resentment grew in you the more you thought about it. If he didn’t want a fucking omega, then why the fuck did he pay for one?

You tried not to think about it as you opened your window, hoping the cool night air would do something to help cool down your feverish skin. You lived far enough away from the other villagers you didn’t really have to worry about a wayward alpha finding you. And at this point, you weren’t sure you would care if one of them did.

You settled into your nest, albeit a bit reluctantly. The faint smell of your mate clung to it, and despite your bond mark it brought you little comfort. More just frustration. It didn’t smell right anymore. You quickly took off your sleep pants, finding them unbearably hot, leaving you in just a tank top and soaked panties as you drifted off to sleep.

Sukuna could try and say that he was just out on a stroll to enjoy the moonlight. That he enjoyed the peace that the dark brought with it, and was only out to clear his mind. He would be lying. The truth of the matter was Sukuna had been keeping tabs on you. And while your bitch of a mate may have been inflicted with brain worms, Sukuna was not. He knew you were alone, and in heat. And he fully planned to take care of you, in ways your beta couldn’t dream of doing.

Walking to your little shack at the edge of the woods felt like wading into a warm lake, your trail becoming thicker and thicker in the air as he made his way to you. It was intoxicating, and he couldn’t stop the visions of you whimpering underneath him from entering his mind. Needy and alone, fuck. He could feel his blood rushing in his veins as your scent laced into his senses and his psyche, and his cock ached for you.

He wasn’t shocked to find your window open. Of course your window was open. You were waiting for him, your true mate. That fucking beta be damned, you wanted him, why else would the window be open? He crawled into your room on instinct more than much else, your body calling to him like a siren's song. The reality of your heat hit him like a train as he took in your visage. Sleeping not-so-peacefully in your marital bed, mindlessly rutting into a pillow drenched with your slick. He fucking hated that you were reduced to fucking pillows.

He was right here, you just needed to let your proper alpha take care of you. Let him protect you, let him fuck you until you can’t walk, let him fill you to the brim- until you’re overflowing, let him fix the fucking stench of your nest. He was on your bed and spreading your legs before he even fully realized what he was doing, ripping your slick drenched panties off of you. On a normal night, he would have touched you and known you were burning alive with a fever. But tonight? He was molting lava with his own forced rut, and he didn’t even notice yet.

Mates don’t need to ask before taking care of their mate in heat, so he doesn't even bother waking you up before shoving two fingers into your weeping pussy to get you ready for him. You whine out softly, back curling off of the bed as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you sharply. He smirked as he curled his fingers up, listening to your breath catch in your throat.

“Fuck, Sukuna..” You whimpered in your sleep. Of course you called out his name, you were his omega. You chose him, you were meant to be with him. Soon, there would be no doubt about that. After he covered you with his scent, after he marked you as his and only his, and when your stomach was swollen with his pups- pink haired, four eyed and undeniably his.

He shrugged off his robe, his rock hard cock burning with need and dripping pre-cum. He ran his dick up your slit, gathering your divine slick on his angry red tip. He felt the tension in his shoulders finally dissolve as he pushed into you, finally at home where he was supposed to be. He growled as he sunk in to his base in one swoop.

You jolt awake with the sudden intrusion, your cunt torn between pushing the intruder out and sucking him in deeper. “Wh-wha…?” You were given no time to try and catch up to the situation before the assault on your g-spot started, leaving you a moaning mess. Sukuna lifted your hips, holding your body with just his forearms as he changed the angle he fucked you in to fuck you deeper, harder. He needed it to take.

You looked up and saw a shock of pink hair and sharp tattoos through bleary eyes. On the surface your body revolted, knowing this wasn’t your mate and he was not meant to be touching you. But something deeper, more primal rejoiced at feeling the alphas fat cock. “Fuck, fuck, more..” You whimpered, bucking your hips in time with his thrusts. You could feel his knot swelling inside you and all you wanted was him. Nothing had ever felt more right.

Sukuna had fucked a lot of omegas during his ruts. He ran through whores like they were nothing. But none of them had ever felt like this. Your pussy was made for him, so perfect as it milked his cock. Your body reacted to him perfectly. You were made to be his. You were his. Every inch of your skin, every breath you took, every smile you gave you were his. He’d prove it. He grabbed you in a bruising grip as he bent over you, capturing you in a demanding kiss and taking what little breath you had away in a clash of teeth and tongues. You belonged to him.

He growled lowly, as he pulled back, throwing your ankles over his shoulders as he pressed his body weight into you, folding you in half. “Fuck, you’re so good,” He groaned, “So fucking tight for me Baby Girl. Gonna knot you, fill you with my pups,” You didn’t know if he was talking to you or himself but it didn’t matter. A thought that should have been deeply revolting to you as a marked woman had never sounded more euphoric.

“Yes, please,” You begged into his ear, “Fuck me, it’s s’ good. Fill me, I- I need you.” you slurred together whatever words you could grapple with. You felt drunk on the feeling of euphoria, you almost forgot sex could feel so good. Your words, albeit a bit jumbled, electrified the part of Sukuna’s brain that had already decided he was your mate. You didn’t just want him, you needed him. You needed him. Of course you needed him, you belonged to him. You were his and his alone.

His his his his-

Then he smelled it. In the sea of apple, clove and cinnamon whiskey a sharp mildew scent hit his nose. The fucking mold of your “bond mark.” Sukuna saw fucking red, his body seething with rage as he remembered you weren’t truly his. No matter how deep he fucked his seed into you, or how much of his skin touched yours, you weren’t his.

Not yet anyway.

He plunged his teeth into your scent glands, right over your previous bond mark. You howled as he did, a wave of ecstasy rocking its way through your heated body and decimating your shocked nervous system as you came all over him. Aftershocks of your orgasm pulsed through your cunt in time with his thrusts, sending static electricity through your needy body. You instinctively dug your fangs into Sukunas scent glands, an act you were never able to perform on your (former) beta mate.

The relief that washed over him as you completed the bond mark was unlike anything he had ever felt before, and it left him in ruins. Cumming deep inside you, painting your womb white. The warm feeling he filled you with actually worked to (somehow) cool the raging inferno in your bloodstream, and you finally found relief from the hell you had been in.

You stayed connected, him holding you close while he waited for his knot to deflate. You thought about Naoya. You had never been able to properly mark him because he didn’t have scent glands for you to mark. It met you were never really bonded, not like how you were bonded to Sukuna now. But, he was technically still your husband. This was his house and his bed you were getting fucked by a perfect stranger in. How would he react when he found you here with the warlord that owned the land? Would he find you here?

Would you regret it?

You didn’t have time to really consider the ramifications of your actions before Ryomen was moving inside you again, and the last thing you wanted to think about was the boy that abandoned you. You whined underneath him, bringing your hands to tangle in his hair. He pressed his forehead to yours in response.

“Still with me Omega?” He asked as he started to pick up the pace, making you whine underneath him.

“I’m here my lord,” You mumbled softly.

“Good,” He punctuated the word with a sharp kiss before straightening up, “Cause it’s gonna take more than just that to knock you up.” He chuckled as his hips started to piston into yours, setting a punishing pace. The natural curve of his cock was seemingly designed to bully your hypersensitive g-spot, stimulating your body back to life as you gripped the sheets under you.

“Aww, look at my pretty little omega,” Sukuna cooed mockingly as he fucked his cum back into you, “All fucked out and full. Feels good to actually cum after spending so much time with a limp dick, doesn’t it slut?” Apparently, all it took was him getting to cum once for him to find his voice.

“So good, so fucking good.” You whimpered, “So big, so full…” And you had no problem feeding into it. His claws dug into your hips, leaving bruises defined enough you could take his fingerprints off of them. He watched the way your tits bounced as you tried to feebly hold onto the sheet, attempting to ground yourself however you could. He watched his bulge appear and reappear in your stomach with every thrust. He watched the way your skin glistened in the moonlight, begging him to mark it. He watched the way your eyes fluttered and glazed over with dazed pleasure.

But the real show was happening where the two of you were connected. Where your slick coated his cock, creating a foamy ring around the base. Where your natural lube mixed with his load, making the most vulgar sounds as he fucked your quivering cunt. God, he couldn’t have asked for a better mate.

Your warm pussy hugged him perfectly, begging him for more and pulling him even deeper into you with every thrust. Every movement of your hips sent a wave of euphoria through him, and he desperately chased both of your highs. He wanted to see you cum. He didn’t get to the first time.

He wouldn’t make that mistake again. You were finally finally his after months of coveting you. Of watching you, of needing you wanting you, of imagining you, you finally belonged to him. He was going to see what you looked like when you came for him god damn it!

“You gonna cream for me again Sweetheart?” He growled, “Squirt all over my dick like a good girl? I know you are, I can feel it, fuck-” His words fell apart on his tongue as you clenched around him. Stars blotted out your vision as your second climax started to creep up on you, slowly tingling up your spine and taking over your body. You bucked your hips into his erratically, chasing the high only he could give you. Sparks of bliss exploded under your skin as you felt him start to swell again.

And suddenly he felt way too far away. You needed him closer. You needed his scent, his skin, him. You ripped one of your hands away from the bedsheets and reached out, trying to communicate what you wanted. His head tilted to the side and he scoffed as he looked at your outstretched hand.

“Words slut, what do you want?” He growled.

“My mate.” You whimpered. He was immediately leaning down to you, pressing his chest to yours and letting your fingers intertwine with his. How could he deny you your mate? Your body exploded into a thousand sparks of ecstasy where his skin ment yours. His scent wrapped around your senses like an old blanket, cozy and familiar and safe. You whined softly and closed your eyes to embrace for impact.

“No.” He growled, using his free hand to pull your hair and force your eyes open, “Look at me.” He demanded. Your watery eyes held his fiery ones as you moaned pathetically under him.

“I’m so close..”

“Then cum for me.” The floodgates opened and you were suddenly drowning in a sea of ecstasy and dopamine. Your hips thrashed against your will and your legs shook like the last leaves on autumn trees. You swore you saw entire galaxies be born before your eyes as you were hit with one of the hardest climaxes of your life. Your eyes watered as they looked into his, your skin felt flushed against his touch, and your grip on his hand tightened.

“Fuck, Ryomen…” He hadn’t heard his first name spoken in years. His body slammed into yours as his own climax hit him with a brick. He fucked you as best as he could through his knot, riding out both of your highs as he filled you to the point of overflowing and then some. His entire body was racked with euphoria as he came harder than he even thought possible.

He collapsed on top of you, rolling you both to the side so he didn’t crush you with his body weight. For a while, the only sound was of the two of you trying to catch your breath. You felt his arms wrap around you and calloused hands rub your back gently to sooth you. He kissed your neck almost sweetly.

“You’re doing so good sweetheart,” He praised in a whisper, one soft enough the wind threatened to take it away, “So good for me.” It made your stomach flutter. His presence was instantly calming, much more so than your ex’s. You might have even fallen asleep, if you didn’t feel him start to move again, still rock solid inside of you.

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Your body was sore the next morning when you woke up, but the fever had subsided for now, finally giving you room to breathe and think about literally anything other than lust. The first thing you noticed was that you were not at home. You jolted up in bed, a soft whimper leaving your throat.

“Silence, woman.” That was when you registered the body next to you in the bed. You looked over to see Ryomen, fully annoyed at being woken up. “You’re safe. I’m here.” He grumbled as he pulled you back into his side. You weren’t sure what was more impressive, that he managed to return to (what you assumed was) his home after last night, or that he managed to carry you with him.

“Sukuna-”

“Ryomen.” He corrected you with a dangerous growl. You paused, a bit taken back.

“Ryomen,” You accepted the correction, “what happens now?”

“Hopefully you go back to sleep.” He sighed, irritated to have been woken up at the ungodly hour of 12 pm. While he was still in rut no less! He didn’t get a lot of chances to sleep during this time, and neither did you. You needed the rest.

“No, I mean with…with,” You didn’t know how to put it.

“What, you mean your cuck ex? Don’t worry about it.” He didn’t hide that he was irritated with you for bringing him up first thing in the morning.

“....Is he going to be hurt?” You asked softly. Sukuna felt his lip twitch.

“If I have it my way, yes.” He didn’t mince words. Why the fuck did you care so much about that loser anyway? You thought about your mates words, then nodded.

“Good.” You said, finally settling back into Ryomens arms and relaxing into him. He didn’t hide the smile that tugged on his lips. He knew he loved you.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・ Taglist ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

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#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #alpha!sukuna #omega!reader #omegaverse #jjk omegaverse #abo #sukuna abo #sukuna omegaverse #ryomen sukuna x reader smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #kinktober #trick-or-kink 23

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areislol · 23 days ago

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤobsession bound

pairings. m!yandere x gn! reader

warnings. yandere, mature explicit 18+ content, MDNI, suggestive content, toxic obsession, stealing clothes, stalking, the whole yandere package.

a/n. i don't condone this irl guys!! please do not fantasize about this

wc. 2.9k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤi love you like an alcoholic - the taxpayers

he knows everything about you. not just your favourite foods, hobbies, or the songs you play on repeat, but the details you wouldn’t even think to share. the way your nose scrunches when you’re deep in thought, the pattern of your breathing when you sleep, the subtle twitch in your hand when you’re anxious. he’s studied you as though you were a divine text, each quirk and habit catalogued and committed to memory.

your presence is his religion, and you, his deity. he doesn’t just love you—he worships you. to him, you’re the very essence of perfection, the axis on which his world spins. every smile you offer, every word you speak, is a blessing he clings to with an almost fanatical devotion. if he could, he’d bottle the sound of your laughter and keep it close, playing it on loop in the quiet hours when he can’t be near you.

his obsession began innocently enough—a fleeting glance in passing, a shared space for mere seconds. but those seconds were enough to ignite something dangerous within him. from that moment on, you consumed him.

your image invaded his thoughts, leaving no room for anything or anyone else. it wasn’t enough to see you from afar. he needed to know you, to possess you, to make sure you could never leave.

he follows you everywhere, his footsteps as silent as a predator stalking its prey. he’s always there, just out of sight, ensuring you’re safe—or so he tells himself.

when you stumble, he fights the urge to rush forward and catch you. when someone dares to get too close, his fists clench, his jaw tightens, and dark thoughts swirl in his mind. no one has the right to invade your space like that. no one but him.

every trace of your existence is precious to him. he’s collected everything—strands of your hair caught in your brush, the lip balm you left on your desk, even the receipt you crumpled and threw away. he keeps them in a secret box, hidden away like a dragon hoarding treasure.

he’ll run his fingers over them, murmuring your name like a mantra, his mind spinning fantasies of the life you’ll share once you finally see the truth.

he keeps a journal where he writes about you obsessively. page after page filled with your name, detailed accounts of your daily activities, and his dreams of your future together. he’s planned it all—your wedding, the house you’ll live in, the names of your children. he knows it’s premature, but in his mind, you’re already his. the only thing left is for you to realise it.

his jealousy is a violent, uncontrollable thing. anyone who gets too close to you is a threat that must be eliminated. he doesn’t care who they are—friends, coworkers, even family. they don’t deserve to share your attention.

they don’t love you like he does. he’s not above sabotage, spreading rumours, or even more drastic measures to ensure they stay away. it’s for your own good. can’t you see how much safer you are without them?

his methods of surveillance are disturbingly meticulous. cameras hidden in your home, trackers on your phone and keys, even your favourite coffee shop isn’t spared. he needs to know where you are, what you’re doing, and who you’re with at all times. if he sees something he doesn’t like, he’ll act without hesitation. a threatening text to someone he perceives as competition, a “chance” encounter to remind you he’s always there—it’s all part of his carefully crafted plan.

the nights he spends in your home without your knowledge are the most sacred to him. he’ll sit in your chair, run his fingers over your belongings, and breathe in the faint scent of you lingering in the air.

when he’s feeling especially bold, he’ll lie in your bed, his heart pounding as he imagines you beside him. the boundary between fantasy and reality blurs, and for those moments, he allows himself to believe you’re already his.

despite his madness, there’s a tenderness in his obsession that makes it all the more unnerving. he’ll leave gifts on your doorstep, thoughtful things he knows you’ll love, but always unsigned. he’ll take care of things you don’t even realise—paying overdue bills, fixing a broken lock, replacing the lightbulb you forgot about. in his mind, these are acts of love, proof of his devotion. he’s your saviour, your guardian. why can’t you see that?

his darker thoughts are carefully hidden beneath a façade of adoration. but they’re there, lurking just below the surface. he’s imagined what it would be like to keep you locked away, safe from the world that doesn’t deserve you.

a place where it’s just the two of you, where no one can hurt you or take you away. he’s convinced himself it would be for the best. you’d be scared at first, but eventually, you’d understand. you’d love him like he loves you.

he’s a master of manipulation, always a step ahead. when you start to suspect something, he’ll play the perfect confidant, the shoulder to lean on. he’ll comfort you, reassure you, and subtly guide you into his arms. every move he makes is calculated to draw you closer, to ensure you never look anywhere else but at him.

his love is suffocating, overwhelming, all-consuming. it’s not just a feeling—it’s a need, a compulsion, a fire that burns so fiercely it threatens to destroy everything in its path. he doesn’t see the danger in it. to him, it’s pure, untainted, the way love is meant to be. and if you ever tried to leave, he’d see it as a betrayal so profound it would shatter him. he’d do anything to keep you. anything.

he’s utterly captivated by every little thing about you—your smile, your voice, the way your clothes hug your figure just right. his eyes linger longer than they should, memorizing every curve, every subtle movement. he tells himself it’s just admiration, but the way his thoughts wander late at night says otherwise. the image of you is burned into his mind, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t escape it.

his fantasies are vivid, detailed, and deeply personal. he doesn’t just imagine holding you close or brushing his lips against yours; his mind ventures further, into moments that would make your cheeks burn if you knew. he’s thought about how your skin might feel against his fingertips, the warmth of your body pressed to his. he knows it’s wrong, but the idea of being the one to make you blush, to see the shy tilt of your gaze, is intoxicating.

he’s fascinated by the small, intimate details of your life—the scent of your shampoo, the way you unconsciously adjust your clothes when you’re nervous, the way your lips part when you’re lost in thought. it’s not enough to simply watch; he wants to know what it feels like, what it tastes like. the thought alone sends a shiver down his spine, a mix of guilt and desire twisting in his chest.

your photos are his most cherished possessions, though he’d never admit it aloud. he’s saved everyone he’s found, both those you’ve posted and those he’s taken without you noticing. they’re his solace on nights when his need for you becomes too overwhelming. his fingers will trace over the screen, wishing he could reach through and pull you to him, to claim you as his own in ways only he dreams of.

his touches are deliberate and lingering, though he always makes them seem innocent. a hand brushing against yours when you pass him something, a too-long hug where his hands press just a little lower than they should. he tells himself it’s harmless, that he’s just expressing his affection, but the heat that pools in his chest whenever he’s near you betrays his true intentions.

he’s memorized the way your clothes fit, the way they shift when you move, and he often imagines what lies beneath. it’s an intrusive, maddening thought that he tries to push away but can’t. he tells himself it’s only natural to wonder about someone you love this much, but the intensity of his fixation borders on obsessive.

his jealousy takes on a darker edge when he sees someone else earning your smiles or making you laugh. he imagines pulling you into his arms, pressing his lips to your ear, and whispering that you’re his, only his. the idea of someone else touching you the way he wants to sends a wave of anger through him, but it also stokes the fire of his need to claim you in every way possible.

he’ll leave little hints of his affection, gifts that seem innocent at first glance—a necklace that sits just right against your collarbone, a dress that hugs your body in a way that makes his heart race. he wants to see you wear them, to know that he had a hand in how you look, to feel like you’re his in some small way, even if you don’t realise it yet.

the nights he spends in your home without your knowledge are where his darker fantasies come to life. he’ll stand in your bedroom, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you sleep, his mind wandering to places he knows it shouldn’t. he wants to reach out, to touch, to feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm, but he stops himself. not yet. it’s not time yet.

he’s thought about what it would be like to have you entirely to himself, away from prying eyes and other distractions. a place where you wouldn’t need anyone else but him, where he could show you just how deeply he feels for you. his fantasies are tinged with possessiveness, imagining you looking at him with flushed cheeks and soft whispers of his name, the way only he would ever deserve.

he knows your body as well as he knows your habits, even if he’s never touched you the way he dreams of. the way you stretch when you’re tired, the curve of your lips when you smile, the smooth expanse of your neck—he notices it all, cataloguing every detail to revisit later in the privacy of his own mind. you’re a living masterpiece, and he’s the only one who truly appreciates every stroke of your beauty.

his obsession isn’t just emotional; it’s physical. he craves the warmth of your body, the softness of your skin, the way you might gasp if he were to press his lips to yours. it’s a hunger that grows stronger with every passing day, consuming him until he’s left trembling with the sheer intensity of his desire. he tells himself he’s patient, that he can wait for you to come to him, but his restraint is wearing thin.

he imagines the way your voice would sound, breathless and needy, calling his name. the thought alone makes his heart pound, his breaths shallow. it’s a dangerous game he plays, teetering on the edge of madness, but he can’t help himself. you’ve become his addiction, his obsession, and he knows there’s no turning back.

he loves jerking off to photos of you taken by him. he flips through the steamy photos on his phone, a wicked glint in his eye begins undoing his pants, freeing his rock-hard erection. a low groan escaping his lips as he wraps a hand around the thick shaft and starts stroking it slowly.

steals your clothes. he's practically grinning maniacally as he rummages through your dresser, his fingers trailing over the fabric of each garment with a possessive touch. he snatches up your most intimate items - panties, bras, and even that cute little skirt from last night - holding them to his face and inhaling deeply before tucking the stolen clothes into his bag like precious treasures.

—

the sound of footsteps trailing behind you wasn’t unusual. you had grown accustomed to the presence of people bustling through the streets or even just the echo of your own shoes against the pavement.

tonight, though, something felt...off. the streetlights flickered overhead, casting long, thin shadows that seemed to stretch and waver unnaturally. you clutched your bag tighter as a cold breeze cut through the air, the faint rustle of leaves amplifying the eerie silence.

unbeknownst to you, a figure lingered a safe distance behind, his breathing steady, his eyes locked on you with an intensity that bordered on fanaticism. he had followed you every night for weeks now, taking meticulous care to remain unseen.

you never noticed the subtle changes in your routine—the slight chill in your room despite closed windows, the faint smell of cologne that wasn’t yours, or the way your things never quite seemed to be where you left them. he made sure of that.

when you finally reached the safety of your apartment, fumbling with your keys, a wave of relief washed over you. the feeling of being watched dissipated the moment the door clicked shut behind you. you didn’t know he was already inside.

hidden in the shadows of your closet, he crouched silently, listening to your every move. your obliviousness only deepened his obsession.

he had memorized your schedule down to the minute. he knew the way you stirred your coffee in the mornings, the playlists you hummed along to while cleaning, and the books you kept on your bedside table. each detail was etched into his mind as sacred knowledge, proof that you were meant to belong to him and only him.

his fingers itched to touch the belongings he had stolen—your hairbrush, the shirt you thought you lost, even the empty chapstick tube you tossed away without a second thought. they were treasures to him, pieces of you he could keep close when he couldn’t have you entirely. not yet.

you were so kind, so trusting. it amazed him how naive you could be. When he brushed past you in a crowd, intentionally grazing your shoulder, you had offered an apologetic smile as though it were your fault. when he sent anonymous gifts to your doorstep, you accepted them with gratitude, never questioning their origin.

you had no idea who he was, but he knew you. he knew everything. He watched as you unknowingly consumed his devotion and smiled sweetly, blissfully ignorant of the storm brewing just beneath the surface of his calculated calm.

the days passed in a blur. you noticed small things—a lingering glance from a stranger at the café, a text from an unknown number asking if you’d gotten home safely.

you chalked it up to coincidence, even as unease began to settle in your chest. little did you know, he had orchestrated it all. the stranger wasn’t a stranger at all. The text wasn’t random. everything was deliberate. everything was for you.

one night, you woke to the sound of something clattering in the kitchen. heart racing, you crept out of bed, clutching your phone tightly. the light from the hallway illuminated the edge of a shadow—a tall figure, unnervingly still. your breath hitched.

before you could scream, a hand clamped over your mouth, and you were pulled into an unrelenting grip. his voice, low and desperate, whispered your name like a prayer.

"shh, it’s me," he said, as though that explanation should bring you comfort. "i couldn’t stay away anymore."

you thrashed against him, but his hold was iron. His tone turned sharp, frantic. "stop. please don’t fight me. i've done everything for you. don’t you see that?"

your heart pounded in your chest as his words spilled out in a torrent of obsession. he spoke of how he had protected you, how he had eliminated those who dared to insult you, how he had waited so patiently for this moment.

it didn’t make sense—none of it did—but the sincerity in his voice was chilling. He believed every word.

when he finally loosened his grip, you stumbled away, trying to catch your breath. his golden eyes shimmered with something between adoration and madness. he took a step closer, and you backed away instinctively. "don’t look at me like that," he pleaded. "i’m not a monster. i love you. i've always loved you."

you didn’t respond. you couldn’t. fear constricted your throat, making it impossible to form words. he noticed your hesitation, and his expression darkened.

"you don’t understand now," he said softly, almost to himself. "but you will. i'll make you see. you don’t have to be afraid of me—i’d never hurt you. i'd only hurt anyone who tries to take you from me."

your legs trembled as you pressed yourself against the wall, desperate to find an escape. he tilted his head, watching you with an unnerving calm. "you’re so beautiful when you’re scared," he mused. "but i don’t want you to be scared of me. i want you to love me back."

the realization of how deeply unhinged he was hit you like a wave. this wasn’t just a stranger breaking into your home. this was someone who had been in your life—lurking in the periphery, shaping your reality without your consent.

you had no idea how much he had already taken from you, how much he was willing to take to keep you his.

and he wouldn’t stop. no matter how much you begged or how far you tried to run, he would always find you. because in his eyes, you were already his.

you are his world, his everything. and in his mind, that’s not obsession—it’s love.

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

Text

(y/n) gifting Geto sweets against the bad taste of curses

Pairing: Geto x reader

Word Count: 1,1k

Synopsis: Being used to the fact that nobody seems to care about how awful curses taste, Suguru Geto is absolutely blown away when you start noticing and bringing him candy after each and every mission.

Warnings: (y/n) has a really bubbly personality in this, pure fluff and no Geto going berserk

Thank you anon for your cute request 🤍

„Oh, there you are! I searched everywhere for you!”, you shout cheerfully, your steps hollering down the dark alley.

Suguru would recognize that oh so sweet voice out of a million, his heartbeat picking up in an instant. It’s you. You’re really here.

“What are you doing here, (y/n)?”, he questions softly.

“Well, I don’t know. I had to steal myself away since Yaga-sensei strictly forbid me to run after you again while you’re on a mission. He said something about getting hurt or killed…But that doesn’t stop me! I brought you something salty to eat!”, you announce proudly, stretching out your hand with a little package inside it.

“Did you really come all the way here just to give me that? You don’t have to gift me something to eat. And on top, you don’t need to get yourself in danger for something unimportant like that.”

“Oh, but it’s not unimportant! After all, swallowing those curses doesn’t taste good, right?”

His gaze meets yours. Suguru never talked with anyone about the breath-taking disgusting taste these things left in his mouth for hours, how it takes all his strength to not throw them back up in an instant. After all, no one ever asked him about this. It seems like it has always been enough that he was able to absorb them for everyone else.

“Why would you think that?”

But how…how on earth do you know? Even though Suguru talks with you a lot about everything and everyone, he never talked about this with you. Hell, not even with Satoru.

“That face you make afterwards, scrunching your eyes just the tiniest bit while pressing your lips together. And I mean, what would curses taste like? Certainly not like sugar and candy, right? And I guess it’s like garlic: you’ll have the taste in your mouth for hours! But at least garlic tastes good when used right. Man, I really want some garlic noodles right now… Are you in the mood to grab something to eat? I know you’re quite busy, but-”

Suguru can’t help but stare at you, the foul taste left on his tongue pushed into the background. You with your bubbly personality made of pure gold. You, who came all the way here just to give him something to eat. You, the only person walking on this earth who ever took the time to think about how it must feel to swallow a curse.

Just you.

“It’s like eating a vomit-soaked rag. That’s what they taste like.”

Your doe eyes dart towards him, reflecting nothing but compassion. Before he is able to think straight you’re standing right in front of him, hand pressing the little package into his much larger one.

“No one should have to taste something like this on a regular basis. But maybe…Oh, I have an idea! Let’s make a pact.”

“A pact?”, he repeats in disbelief.

What are you up to? And why is your smile suddenly as bright as the sun?

“A pact! I promise to always have something to eat for you when you tell me about your missions in exchange!”, you announce proudly.

“This doesn’t seem fair to me at all. You don’t have to follow after me just to give me something nice to eat.”

It seems so crazy, almost unbelievable to him that another human being would be willing to sacrifice its precious time for him. Don’t you understand that this promise would mean traveling after him every day and night multiple times? Don’t you understand that you are too good for that? Especially you, the ray of sunshine at Jujutsu High. You, the girl everyone talks about, the girl that even Nanami secretly adores. Why would someone like you take special care of him?

“What isn’t fair is that you have to go through something like this every single time. I really admire you, Suguru. Just the smell of something disgusting makes me gag. Just thinking about eating something that tastes so horrible multiple times a day…You really are a hero! And every hero deserves some sweets! Oh wait…Are you actually into sweets? I can bring you something salty as well.”

“Satoru prefers sweets-“

“But I’m not asking about Satoru”, you interrupt him immediately.

“I’m asking about you.”

He isn’t able to respond. No, Suguru is absolutely captivated by your kind smile and the way you still hold onto his hand, the package in his palm feeling sweaty just by one look into your innocent eyes.

You…you really noticed. And not only that, you really do care about him.

“Go ahead, take a bite! I wonder what you think. I was never really a fan of salty snacks, but these ones are really good”, you explain all too excited.

Hesitantly, he rips open the package and allows himself to get a taste. Oh, this feels like heaven on earth, the saltiness of what seems like crackers hunting away the stinging taste of vomit in his mouth. But what intrigues him the most is you. How you stand in front of him, swaying back and forth in excitement while your eyes follow every move of his mouth, literally glowing in joy.

“These are really good”, he finally confesses.

“Thank you, (y/n). Now everything just tastes good.”

And so it did every following mission. Instead of feeling disgusted by only the sight of a curse, Suguru somehow feel…excitement. Excitement because swallowing a curse means meeting you afterwards. Excitement because he’ll get to taste a new sort of candy or sweets almost every single day. Excitement because slowly but surely, he fell head over heels for your striking sight.

“Those are a speciality around here! I heard some of the others talk about that shop yesterday and thought you might want to try it as well.”

The candy melts on his tongue right away, making him wonder what you taste like while your pretty mouth happily keeps on telling him everything about that shop. It is so easy to get lost in your sight, lost in your talking, last in your personality.

“(y/n).”

He takes a step forward, putting the other piece of candy you handed him over in his pocket. Your eyes widen in the most delicate way, cheeks turning rosy just by one glimpse into the chocolate brown ocean of his eyes.

You always loved the taste of sweets on your tongue, how your nerves began to tingle just the slightest bit. But in this moment, you realized that tasting Suguru Geto was way better than that. He wraps his arms around you gently, pressing his lips against yours ever so slightly. You feel like fainting, flying, giggling. What a precious man he is, how long you imagined how it must feel to kiss your secret crush. But oh, the reality is so much better.

“I love you more than any candy on this planet.”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @itsmonicabc

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primofate · 1 year ago

Text

Genshin Angst Headcanons - Why the two of you broke up

Note: Had an unexpected free day! I haven't written in a while, please excuse the mistakes, if any.

Disclaimer at the end of the post

Warning: Some are pretty predictable. Each of them have their own issues, lore wise, so some are lore heavy. You might not agree with some of them, but its how I see it, so to each their own. Let me know what you think! Some are quite angsty. Some scenes it's you breaking up with him and some are vice versa. Didn't feel like writing Razor, Venti and Xingqiu.

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Bennett, Chongyun, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Thoma, Tighnari, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Personal Favourites in this work: Lyney, Itto, Kazuha

Aether

Sister issues. Enough said.

He realized he didn't have enough time to spare romancing with someone.

Somewhere along the way he felt guilt that he was enjoying his time with you while his sister went through some sort of villain origin story that seemingly turned her bad.

Top off all the adventuring, searching, solving problems for other people that he did...Where did that leave you, exactly?

"...I'm sorry, Y/N... I just... I don't think this is the right time for me to be together with you,"

Albedo

Contrary to popular belief it wouldn't be his lack of time or extreme focus on his alchemical experiments that would break the two of you up. He knows how to manage his time.

It was the RESULTS of experiments and his research that would put him away from you.

The possibility that HE or his world, was way too dangerous for you.

How many "Albedos" did Rhinedottir really create? Was there more than three? Perhaps four, five? And what happens when you come face to face with another Albedo?

"I'm afraid...There are far too many dangers surrounding myself... There are answers that I can't find...and perhaps that's the reason why my answer is to part ways with you,"

Alhaitham

Too much of a nonchalant attitude.

He expressed some kind of interest in you...but it's like... once in a blue moon. 95% of the time you're not sure if he's really into you. It almost seems like he's more into that book he reads all the time.

Simply just not good at expressing himself. Like, at all. Hides behind a "whatever works" and "I don't care about what other people think of me" attitude, unfortunately that seems to include you.

Is so straightforward that sometimes it hurts, but he's really just telling the truth through logical analysis.

will act like the breakup didn't hurt nor affect him at all. In turn it hurts you instead.

"I see. So you've had enough of me... And you only spoke up now? Pointing it out earlier could've diverted us from this path...If that's how you feel already I suggest that we stop seeing each other,"

"That's it? You're not even going to try and work it out with me?"

"What's there to work out? You've made yourself clear. You're not satisfied with the way I treat you, and I'm afraid I'm not going to change the way I act just for your pleasure... It'd be more meaningful for you to find someone who fits your criterias,"

Ayato

entering a relationship with a noble was not as easy as one thought.

It's not just about being together forever and feeling lucky because Ayato is rich and your whole life is set, it's also the not fitting in, the etiquette, the whispers from townfolk that you were too ordinary for him, the work that you needed to do if you were to become his wife.

All that was not really a big problem for you, but Ayato seemed not to know of your struggles, he was extremely busy, and when he wasn't, he seemed to think that everything was well and fine, since you were getting all your basic needs met and even more.

"...So I'm sorry, Ayato. This is just... All too much for me. I'm sorry,"

"...I understand. Forgive me, it seems that I've overlooked a lot of things...Perhaps it is as you say, that it'd be better for us to grow apart rather than grow together,"

Baizhu

because he is a ticking time bomb, no matter which way he looked it's not going to end well for both of you.

He either dies early or lives forever. In both scenarios he anticipates that the two of you are just going to be in a world of hurt.

Besides, he didn't mean to get so attached to someone in the first place, he knew his quest for immortality was long and arduous. You didn't deserve to walk that difficult road too.

While breaking up, will conceal the fact that he's only thinking of you and will possibly hurt you in the process.

"I'm sorry, but it's for the best. I ask that you continue going forward without me, there's no space for you in my... ideal future,"

Bennett

We all know it...it's his bad luck. However, it wasn't YOU who had a problem with it, it was HIM.

You understood that his bad luck was just some extended part of him, plus it's not like it was always bad, there were a lot of good times too. Plenty!

But the guilt ate him up whenever the two of you were stuck in a seemingly impossible scenario and predicament, brought on by his luck. He just had enough of it one day.

"I...I can't keep doing this to you every day! It's not fair..."

will be on the brink of tears before he even starts.

"Maybe it's better if you find someone else to adventure with, Y/N, sorry...!"

runs away before you can even get a word in.

Chongyun

Thinks he's not good enough in every aspect. It's really, seriously not about you. He thinks he's lacking in everything. Strength, maturity, experience, confidence.

So badly wants to stay with you but feels like he's not good enough and thinks that you're better off with someone else.

"D-Don't misunderstand... It's not because I don't like you anymore... I just...Please find someone else!"

Cyno

his bad jokes and TCG addiction. just kidding, you're not that shallow.

A lot of people are intimidated by him being the General Mahamatra because he gives importance to justice. While you, who had seen a bit more of him than other people had, it seemed more of an obsession to uphold the Akademiya's law and integrity.

This was not a big problem to you, you liked how he was serious at work.

Until one day when you were accused of plagiarising one of your papers and Cyno was the one sent to give you a first offense warning. The Akademiya knew of your relationship, that's probably why they sent him, to make it harder on the two of you.

Cyno didn't listen to your explanations on how it was an honest mistake, he still gave you the warning that you "deserved"

From then on it had just been different between the two of you, so it was really a mutual breakup. Or so you thought.

"...After that, I just realized that maybe this isn't the right time for us... We're both working for the Akademiya, we both take our jobs seriously...Unfortunately that seems to just be getting in the way of us...I think it's best if we stop seeing each other,"

"...I see." he pauses for a minute, as if tossing your words in his mind. "I...agree. Parting ways would certainly make work easier for both of us...it's the professional thing to do,"

Dainsleif

Has not moved on from his past.

Sure, everyone has their own baggage to carry, their own history to live through...but Dainsleif has heavier things than that. He seemed to wake up every day thinking of Khaenri'ah and the days long past. Was it regret? Nostalgia? Loneliness? You didn't know. You just knew that he wasn't really completely THERE with you in the present. Part of him still lived in the past.

When you explained that you felt like the two of you were not moving forward together and that it seemed like he wanted to go back to the past instead, he got offended.

"...My past is something that I carry forever, you'd claimed that you understood that," he starts.

"I do! But carrying it with you and letting it drag you backwards are two different things!"

He falters for a moment, only to leave you with his last words before turning away from you forever: "You will never understand, the weight that I carry,"

Diluc

is too guarded. You'd been friends for a long, long, long, long time before he decided he could let you in enough and be more intimate with you.

Even then everything was going at a snail's pace, though you were extremely patient with him.

The biggest problem with Diluc was that the two of you would progress one day, take a step forward, and then the next day it was like the two of you took two steps back.

Example: The two of you went out for a simple stargazing excursion late one night, it was nice and he had been incredibly affectionate. The next day he had trouble even meeting your gaze, and disappeared to do his work. It was also a little awkward during dinnertime. This scenario had happened more than once.

Hint: the closer he got to you the more afraid he became, thinking that he would one day lose you too.

"I...I can't. I love you but I...I've waited far too long. I'm sorry. I'm tired of this endless chase for you!"

He couldn't even say a thing. He'd wanted to ask you to stay, to wait for him a little longer, but he already knew how incredibly selfish that would have been. Instead, he grimaced, and looked away from your gaze, trying to find something worthwhile to say. There was only silence for a few moments.

"Goodbye Diluc," that's when you turned away.

Gorou

worships Kokomi too much and your insecurities just kept circling around in your head.

You know its his job. You know he isn't like that but the problem was YOU and not him.

Simply said you let your insecurity eat up the relationship between the two of you.

You couldn't bring yourself to say that you were jealous of the way he admired Kokomi so you broke up with him with another reason in tow.

Unfortunately, you're not a very good liar face to face so you did a butthole move and actually broke up with him through a letter. You just couldn't face him and tell him why.

All you mentioned in the letter was that you needed time to think and be away from him, and told him not to worry because it was your problem, not his.

Poor Gorou reread that letter over and over, trying to understand what went wrong.

Heizou

is just a natural flirt. You're not sure if he's doing it on purpose or not and you're not sure if he's even aware he's like that.

Anyway you'd seen him getting overly friendly (just another word for flirting) with a few other people a couple of times. You didn't let it get to you the first, fourth or even eighth time but you realized that he KNOWS that you're watching him do that.

So you confront him about it, but he claims that it's just his way of gathering information from others. People like to hear good things and some people are more susceptible to flirtatious comments so he resorts to that for his investigation sometimes.

You didn't really completely buy it and even if you did, it's not like this was healthy for your relationship. You just couldn't make yourself comfortable with it.

*You just chalked it up to the two of you being incompatible.

"I'm just not comfortable with that...I don't think I have to say sorry for how I feel but...I'm sorry anyway because I know you're just doing your job... It's probably best if we part ways here..."

"Is there any way to change your mind?" he genuinely asks.

You only give a lopsided smile. "You're a detective, I think you already know the answer to that,"

Yet he didn't stop you from walking away.

Itto

Kept breaking promises because he was too airheaded or too occupied doing something "stupid" with the kids or with his gang.

Pretty soon it just felt like you were an afterthought while everyone else in his life took precedent.

Got a ramen date? Oops, sorry! Got caught up looking for a strong onikabuto in the forest!

Needed his help to move some things? Gah, he was vandalising the bulletin boards, so he's running a bit late!

What's more you didn't actually mind that carefree, airheaded side of him...but it really got to you when he couldn't even seem to make you a priority. Not once.

He only realized that when he came running, late again, and stood face to face with a crying you.

"Hey sorry Y/N, I was just--...Why are you crying?!" is completely dumbfounded and clueless, mostly because when he came late, you had always shrugged it off with a smile on your face, or so he thought. This time you had a completely different reaction.

"I hate you...*hic* I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

Shocked beyond belief. It wasn't like you to just blow up like that, but he couldn't do anything except watch you turn and run away from him after that exclamation.

Kaeya

Sometimes you're not sure if he takes you seriously.

Recently, he's not where he says he is, you don't know why he doesn't just tell you where he is.

He said he'd be working late, but then you find out he's at Angel's Share.

He said he'll be at Angel's Share, but then you catch word from Jean that he's out on a late mission.

He said he's escorting a caravan to Mondstadt but he's actually on assignment in Liyue.

It came to the point where you altogether just stopped looking for him cause half of the time you couldn't find him. It's like he's avoiding you or something, which, actually, seems just about right since he's been so busy with "work"

It reached a breaking point when, for a week, you were unable to bring him the lunch you prepared...because he was not where he said he was going to be. It was starting to get annoying.

"I don't understand why you're lying to me! Why do you have to tell me you'll be at Angel's Share this afternoon when you're not? Do you realize you make me walk all the way there only to come all the way back with nothing achieved?"

"I'm sorry snowflake, that wasn't my intention," though he still chuckles despite knowing full well that you were about to turn away.

"You know what, let me know when you're ready to stop making jokes. Until then, don't bother contacting me,"

He just didn't expect you to actually walk away from him.

Kaveh

Entertains everyone and anyone. Naturally kind at heart, will stop for anyone in trouble...even that flirtatious man/woman who is clearly just pining for his attention.

No he doesn't quite realize this.

The same person had asked for his help at least 4 times now and all 4 times he had been happy to offer a helping hand.

The last straw was when he was invited into the stranger's house, they had apparently needed someone to help them move and re-arrange furniture and he did, working till almost dinner time.

You'd caught him right by the person's door, because Kaveh was actually honest and told you he'd be helping them today, but the person was clearly eyeing Kaveh rather flirtatiously.

"Come again next time," you heard the person say rather happily. Kaveh only replies with "If I have nothing else to do, I suppose,"

"Kaveh, they're coming onto you and you keep letting it happen!"

"I'm not certain what you're talking about...They just needed some help around their house, nothing suspicious happened at all. Even if there was, I won't let anything happen between me and a stranger!"

"Then STOP helping them!"

"There isn't anything wrong with lending a hand...It was a quick move of things, that's all,"

"How would YOU feel if I just went into someone's house and kept helping them "move" things?"

"...I would think that's nice of you,"

You actually threw your hands up. "Oh, forget it! You know what, for someone who LOVES helping others, you're not doing such a great job of helping ME," then walked away and never came back. "Good riddance,"

Kazuha

He's a wandering samurai. You knew what you were getting into but you didn't expect dating him to be so hard.

He was gone for weeks on end, and you were not getting on that boat with him. In essence the two of you were just not ready to follow each other to the end's of the Earth, and that was fair. The two of you were young.

Kazuha kind of saw it coming, whenever he visited you, you seemed less spirited and he had an inkling as to why. The time apart was just too much for you.

It was a rather clean break actually. A real mutual breakup that the two of you agreed on.

"...You could say it's just not the right time for us," you even managed to laugh under your breath and he did the same, though it was barely audible.

"...Mm. There are matters that you need to attend to here...and there are things that I need to do out there," he slowly stood up from his sitting position next to you and still gazed at you rather lovingly. "...Perhaps, in another world, you and I are bound together,"

You gazed back forlornly, "...Just not in this one, it looks like,"

Lyney

because he will always choose his siblings over you. Always.

Though that's not a bad thing because you also think that family is important...somewhere along the way you realized that family is the ONLY thing he had and saw.

Example: Lynette and you had gotten ill at the same time one winter morning. Perhaps it was the cold that was passing around Fontaine. Lyney had been so worried about Lynette, that he seemed to have forgotten about you for the next few days. In fact, Lyney didn't even realize that you caught the cold too. You had only heard from Freminet, who you happened to cross paths with, that Lynette was also ill.

You thought that incident was the end of it, but really it seemed that whenever Lyney wanted to hang out with you, Lynette had to be there too. You tried to understand...after all there's still that mystery of disappearing women in Fontaine.

The breakup was induced when Lyney completely forgot about your birthday, because Freminet's was around the same time as yours. You helped Lyney prepare everything for Freminet, and said nothing about your own.

You realized that there was nothing wrong with choosing family over everything else...but the problem here was that Lyney didn't even have space for you in the first place.

So you left without saying anything. You figured he'd get over it quick. You had even gone so far as to move away from the main city of Fontaine and out into another island, because what would you say if he found you? That you were jealous of his siblings? You weren't going to ruin a family like that and it wasn't right to make him choose...so you just left without a word.

Neuvillette

Had a whole brainrot for this man:

Part 1

Part 2

Scaramouche

surprisingly it's not his anger issues.

It's the way he wouldn't acknowledge your relationship. You wonder how you even got into one with him.

There's no public show of affection, but even behind closed doors it rarely happened.

You knew that he was going to be like that, and so you didn't mind it all that much.

It was getting a bit much though when, out in public, he would walk further in front of you and refused to walk next to you. When he pretended like he didn't even know you. When he didn't stop to help you even when another man had shown interest in you, bordering on uncomfortable.

The more time passed the more you simply felt unloved...but for some reason you still blamed yourself.

"...I...don't know. Maybe you find me undesirable, or just...unappealing. Maybe you're embarrassed of me or...or..." maybe you just didn't care in the first place, you thought to yourself.

There was a long silence. Of you turning your gaze away, of him still piercing into yours. And then...

"Tsk...don't waste my time...Leave if you want to leave, door's open,"

Tartaglia

This one is simple. It's his obsession for fighting plus his complete disregard for himself. It's a constant heart attack for you. At some point the anxiety is just too much for you to handle.

Imagine living every day just wondering if he's safe at the same time knowing that he just loves to look for trouble.

The foul legacy that you know of, he uses it with disregard as well, despite knowing that it wasn't good for him.

And there are even days where you know he was heavily wounded but didn't go to you, in an attempt to shield you from worry.

It's a constant battle trying to stay sane and unworried, until one day it all just becomes too much.

"...Nothing I say will change anything, Tartaglia. This is who you are...This is who you need to be..." you whisper while bandaging his knuckles. He lets out a short hum.

It was silent all up until you finished with his hand, you squeeze it gently. "...I love you but...I can't keep doing this to myself, I'm tired...more so than I have ever been before,"

He lets your hand slip away from his knuckles, and that was the last he saw of you.

Thoma

This one is also simple. He was always taking care of others and running errands for others that he sometimes just couldn't catch a break.

Just a classic case of not enough time for you since he had a job to do for the Kamisato Clan.

He knows it, and feels awful about it. So he's the one who makes the move.

"It hurts that I can't give you what you deserve, Y/N. This isn't it... You deserve more than this but I can't give you that and I'm sorry. Please look for the love that you deserve,"

Tighnari

Remembers everything. Can be critical of things you've done, specially if he thinks there's a better way to do it.

Simply said you just feel stupid in front of him sometimes.

He doesn't mean to, but he sometimes forgets to appreciate or give praise to the things that you do well and even if he does, it tends to be short lived compared to his constructive criticisms.

Pretty soon you felt like he only looks at the bad things you do, and never the good. Though he was really only trying to teach and guide you as an equal.

He in fact feels that you are one of the few people who can keep up educational conversations with him.

The problem is he kind of forgets that you're his lover, and that you would enjoy his praise and affection from time to time.

"Do you... Do you ever have anything nice to say other than 'good work' or 'great observation'?" the words were out of your mouth before you could hold yourself back. Sometimes it was tiring to feel like you weren't good enough.

There's a flash of surprise that crosses Tighnari's expression for a split second, before he recovers. "...Had I not been praising your work enough lately? My apologies... It has a lot of merits, I just thought that you wanted my opinion on how to make it better,"

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again right after to ponder on his words. Somehow even that had managed to make you feel embarrassed. It was here you knew that the problem also lied within yourself.

"...Sorry, Tighnari...I think I'll need some time alone,"

He obliges quickly and asks. "That's reasonable. When would you like me to come back?"

"...Let me rephrase that... I need some time away. From us."

Xiao

Unfortunately there's a lot of things wrong here... his lack of affection. His aloof personality. His dedication to his yaksha duties. Despite that he does actually try to be gentlemanly or respectful of you.

The worst of it is that he didn't know how to be in a relationship, in other words he just wasn't ready for one, or perhaps he would never be ready for one.

He didn't understand that humans craved companionship and sometimes touch. He didn't understand that meant having to favour you over others, sometimes even putting you first over his yaksha duties.

Worst of it all was when he shut himself off from you, sometimes for days on end, when his karmic debt was too high. He only really did it to protect you, but never realized how isolated that made you feel.

When you confronted him about it, he felt attacked. Hiding away was the only way he knew how to cope...why couldn't you understand that?

"Let me help you, Xiao,"

"I don't need your help!" his tone would make you wince and just like that he disappears into a billow of smoke.

You never returned to Wangshu Inn after that. If he couldn't let you in, there was no use trying to knock on his heart. Xiao being Xiao, never sought you ought again either.

Zhongli

He had experienced so many things and you had listened to many a tales from him.

This is what caused you to realize that you hadn't even experienced life at all, and yet here you were willing to tie yourself down to him.

It just didn't feel like it added up. Here he was with all this knowledge of the world and here you were who had never even stepped outside of Liyue. By no means were you stupid, but you felt that you could be better not only for him, but for yourself if you learned more.

There was just such a huge gap in life experiences, and though you never expected to get to his level (he was a God who had lived for a long time, you would never catch up to him) you at least wanted to see what was out there with your own eyes instead of through his stories.

He understood that wholeheartedly, and had no qualms in letting you go.

"You will always have a place with me, Y/N. No amount of lifetimes will change that,"

I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Click here.

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Disclaimer: Relationships will always have some sort of problem along the way, maybe big, maybe small but I just want to reiterate that breaking up is not always the solution. Communicating is very important. So to those of you who like taking fanfiction too seriously, let it be known that this is just a work of fiction. I don't actually suggest breaking up with someone as soon as there is the slight indication of a problem (Just saw someone commenting on a similar themed post for Haikyuu that this wouldn't happen in the real world if both parties were mature... I mean, sure, but, idk, you must be fun in parties... it's called fiction for a reason...)

#genshin angst #genshin breakup #genshin headcanons #lyney x reader #genshin impact angst #lyney angst #neuvillette angst #neuvillette x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham angst #cyno angst #cyno x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche angst #diluc angst #tartaglia angst #itto angst

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navybrat817 · 21 days ago

Text

Hold You Tight: Part 14

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 13 | Series Masterlist | Part 15

Chapter Word Count: Over 5k

Chapter Summary: The manager of The Red Room gives you a little advice regarding your situation with Bucky.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, backstory, reference to stalking, hopelessness. inner turmoil, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! I realize some of this may feel like filler, but it's happening for a reason. Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Ray kept a close but respectable distance as he took you to his car. It was similar to the vehicle he drove Bucky around in, but a slightly different shade of black that wasn’t as flashy. You should've spotted it sooner, but you weren’t exactly looking for it, were you?

“Have you just been driving around following me all day?” you asked once you were in the car.

“I followed you on foot, too. I’m good at blending in,” he said, giving you a sideways glance as he buckled up and made sure you were buckled up, too. There was no boasting in his statement, just truth. “It wouldn't surprise me if I’m the one asked to stay nearby when you join your friends on Saturday.”

“But perhaps if she really does want to go and you’re unable to accompany her, boss, someone could discreetly keep an eye on her.”

With his looks and massive build, he shouldn’t be able to blend in so easily. How many people paid that close attention to their surroundings though? You hadn’t before. You needed to be on guard more. And what was that going to do to your stress levels?

At least it would be Ray watching if he was asked and not one of Bucky’s other friends.

“Well, I hope watching me drink wine doesn't bore you,” you said, glancing out the window as he drove off, watching the cars and people go by. “How did you get so good at what you do?”

“Making sure you're safe doesn't bore me,” he said. Ironic considering his boss put you in danger. “And I think that’s a story for another time.”

Ray said he had been working for Bucky for a few years. You wondered just how they met. There had to be a story there. “Do you ever think about walking away from it?” you asked curiously, bringing your gaze back to him while he kept his eyes on the road. “I mean, you have a life outside of this, right?”

Did he have family? Friends? A loved one? He had to have a hobby at least. Something.

He tapped a finger on the steering wheel. “Do you think one simply walks away?”

“No, I guess not,” you replied. It was unlikely that you would ever escape, but you didn’t know how it was for people who willingly ran in circles with men like Bucky. You still had a lot to learn. “But I’d like to think there’s hope for you if that’s what you want.”

“I appreciate the hope and I don’t want you to lose that,” he said, sparing you a sad glance. “But you should place it elsewhere.”

Where exactly would you place that hope when Bucky continued to infect everything in your life?

You nodded once, feeling a bit sad for him, too. He just seemed different from the others Bucky surrounded himself with. “Sorry for the questions.”

“Don't apologize,” he said, tapping the steering wheel again. “It’s nice that you care enough to ask.”

You smiled to yourself, content to sit in silence after that. Grabbing your phone from your bag, you aimlessly scrolled through your messages and stopped at Bucky’s name. There were no new messages, but would he send something at the stroke of midnight? And if he was in a mood without you around and Ray eventually told him that Zemo introduced himself to you, what would he do?

“We’re here,” Ray said after a minute, parking his car in front of a tall, sleek building and getting out. He held up a hand to stop the valet from opening the door for you, opting to help you out himself. “This way.”

The sleek theme continued as you went into the lobby and you understood why it was called The Red Room. The color was everywhere, balanced out by a mix of black and gray and soft lighting. The nearby sofa and chairs looked high-quality, as did the art. It appeared to be an oasis of luxury and a place for a well deserved break.

You stopped Ray before you got to the desk. “How much is a room? I get paid tomorrow, but…” You had some money in savings you could transfer over to cover what was surely an expensive cost.

“You haven't checked your account today, have you?”

Taking out your phone with a furrowed brow, you quickly logged into your bank account. An embarrassing squeak came out when you saw the amount, your eyes wide as you looked between your phone and Ray. That had to be some sort of mistake. There was no way…

Bucky.

“He put money in my account?” you whispered, double checking the amount to make sure your eyes weren't deceiving you. Why did he do that? “I can't…”

“He did and he won't take it back if you try,” Ray confirmed. “Regardless of how much you now have, if my boss found out that I suggested you stay here and made you pay he’d have my head.”

“Well, what’s the point of having this money then?” you pressed.

Not that you intended to use it. Spending even a dime of it would likely encourage Bucky to give you more. Or was it a test to see if you would spend it? Would he know if you did?

Maybe, just maybe, you could get Addison and Brady a nice wedding gift.

“To make sure you're taken care of in every possible way,” he said, gesturing to you to move forward.

“Welcome to The Red Room,” a woman in a black dress smiled, Ingrid from the name on her tag. “Do you have a reservation?”

“We do not,” Ray said, sliding a card over. “And I’ll need to speak with Natalia regarding a room, please.”

“Natalia?” Ingrid’s smile didn’t slip, but a hardened look took over her eyes and you suddenly felt uncomfortable. “I’m afraid that’s-”

“It’s fine, Ingrid. I’ll be happy to take care of them.” A redhead in a similar black dress walked over, her heels echoing on the marble floor. She carried herself with grace and power and looked like she could snap your neck without breaking a sweat. So did Ingrid for that matter. “Why don’t you go on break?”

“Of course.” Ingrid’s smile was back on her face. “Enjoy your stay,” she added, gliding away.

“Raymond. Good to see you,” Natalia said, her voice warm as he gave her a nod. “You’ll have to excuse Ingrid. She gets a little protective when anyone asks for Natalia. You know you're one of the only men around who still calls me that.”

“It’s your name, is it not?” he asked, though her tag read Natasha.

“Indeed it is. Maybe one day you’ll call me Natasha,” she said, cocking an eyebrow at you. You didn’t think she was judging you, but you still felt a little self conscious under her gaze. “I wasn't supposed to meet you until later. I also expected Bucky to be with you when that happened.”

You held your breath before you remembered that Ray said the manager had worked with Bucky before. “So you know who I am,” you said. For Bucky to preach about your safety, a lot of people were aware of who you were. “Does everyone know who I am?”

The corner of her lip quirked up. “Not everyone,” she said, turning her attention to Ray. “Why is she here early? Did something happen?”

“She needs a place to stay for the night and she’s not to be disturbed. That includes my boss.”

She raised an eyebrow again. “Understood. I’ll give her suite 213 and put you just across the hall.” Her fingers flew across the keyboard before she slid the card back to Ray. “Follow me.”

“Isn’t a suite a bit much?” you asked. And for Ray to pay for that, you had to pay him back somehow.

She paused to stare at you. “All of the rooms here are nice, but the suites are a bit more spacious. It’ll give you room to breathe while you relax,” she gently spoke. “You look like you could use some rest.”

Did she know the extent of what you had gone through? You weren’t claustrophobic but with Bucky smothering you, breathing and rest didn’t come to you as easily. “I appreciate that,” you said. A spacious area would feel nice.

She nodded, pressing the elevator button. “You’re also welcome to book anything in the spa at no charge and whatever you’d like from the restaurant or room service menu is on the house.”

You gaped at her. “So because I’m Bucky’s girl, you’ll just give me these things for free?” you asked, noticing that she stood on one side of you and Ray on the other. “I mean, I’m not trying to sound ungrateful, but there’s no need for the special treatment.”

Everyone so far in Bucky’s circle fawned over you. But what had you done to earn anything? Nothing. All you did was catch the eye of a powerful man.

“Nothing in life is free. There’s a price for everything,” she said above a whisper. “And I know you’re not ungrateful. You’re just not used to it.”

You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to it since you grew up with the belief that you had to work for what you were given. “You asked why I was here early. When exactly was I supposed to meet you?”

“Not to spoil the surprise, but Bucky booked a dinner reservation and our best suite for a romantic evening.” She gave Ray a glance, who didn’t look too pleased. “I think he plans to tell you the day of, if I had to guess.”

“Wonderful,” you muttered, a shiver running through your body. You weren't an idiot. If Bucky booked a suite for the two of you, he’d expect you to sleep with him.

“I thought you were good at keeping secrets, Natalia,” Ray uttered.

“I’m very good at keeping secrets that are actually worth keeping, Raymond,” she retorted.

“I’m glad you told me,” you said. In her defense, you asked a question and she gave you an almost direct answer. “Besides, it’s just another thing to add to the list of ‘surprises’ for today. Bucky having Ray follow me. Meeting Zemo.”

“Zemo?” She didn’t give anything away, but she gave Ray another look. This guy didn’t seem to have a lot of fans. “You met Zemo? When?”

“He introduced himself to me at the park just before we came here,” you replied.

She pursed her lips when the elevator door opened. “I can’t wait to hear how Bucky responds to that.”

Your stomach sank. You saw what he did to John after he insulted you. Zemo likely wouldn’t fare much better, but he also seemed to be a bigger player in whatever went on in the city.

“Will you let me do a sweep before she goes in?” Ray asked before Natasha could open the door.

“No one has been in this room and no one knew you were coming here, but I know you'll be chewed out if you don’t,” she said, stepping aside for him.

“You’re not planning to bug the place, are you, Ray?” You didn’t want to think he would, but you had to ask.

He didn’t look offended by the question. If anything, he seemed to understand your concern. “This is meant to be a safe haven for the rest of the day. I won’t take that from you,” he promised, shutting the door behind him. It was nice to have him somewhat on your side, even in the smallest capacity.

The hall was eerily quiet as you stood alone with the redhead. Your gaze darted back and forth, expecting Bucky to waltz in and tell you that this wasn’t a haven at all. That he’d drag you to the suite bed and do whatever he pleased.

“I’ve been told you have a kind heart,” Natasha said, bringing your attention back to her. “That’s good for Bucky.”

“Is it?” you asked, looking down the hall again.

“Relax,” she urged. “You don’t have to feel nervous here. You’re safe.”

“You work with Bucky, so I’m naturally going to feel nervous and suspicious,” you said. You wouldn’t apologize for that. “How much do you know about me?”

“A man named Jake who does security and surveillance works for both Bucky and I. When Bucky needed him for an extended period of time, I was naturally curious as to why. He gave me just enough pieces to put the puzzle together.”

“So you know I’m trapped,” you said. She had to know it wasn’t a consensual relationship.

“More or less,” she said.

“And let me guess. This Jake guy specializes in bugs and listening devices?”

“Hmm. So you know about the bugs,” she said. Bucky was all too proud to share that when you asked. “Jake does specialize in those and you might meet him at some point. If and when you do, don't blame him for doing his job, please. Not everyone gets to choose their line of work.”

“Well, I wish he would’ve stopped him,” you said. You could blame this guy, but it wouldn't do you any good. Like Natasha said, he may not have had a choice.

“If it’s any consolation, he wasn’t pleased when he realized he was helping bug an innocent person's place, but he has a sister and niece to consider,” she said, giving you a hard stare when you opened your mouth. “And before you ask because I know you’ll ask, I can’t help you.”

You tried not to get upset at her immediate denial to help. “May I ask why not?”

She sighed, toying with the delicate gold necklace around her neck. You wondered if the arrow charm was symbolic. “The women who work here… We didn’t exactly have the best upbringing and we didn’t have much freedom, even as adults. Including my sister,” she explained, a haunted look taking over her eyes momentarily. “But Bucky stepped in some time ago and helped us. Without him, I wouldn’t have been able to open this place or give us normal life. I’ll be forever in his debt for that.”

“He helped you?” you asked. Marc mentioned that he donated to the local hospital and charities, but this was something else. Was this a normal hotel or some kind of refuge?

“He did. When he isn't doing bad things, he actually does some good,” she answered, still toying with her necklace. “In all the time I’ve known him, there have only been two things I’ve ever heard him say he wants and you’re one of them. If I help take you away from him, I don’t know what he’ll do.”

“So you won’t help me, but it’s really more like you can’t,” you guessed. She was essentially in Bucky’s pocket and had to think of the women under her employment and her sister. She couldn’t put them in danger. “No one will help me.”

“Barnes isn’t the kind of man you win a fight against. It’s better for most to stay on his good side than to be his enemy,” she said, putting a hand on your shoulder when you hung your head. “Hey. I’m not telling you to just lay over and accept your new relationship for what it is, but I don’t want you to be surprised when people keep telling you ‘no’ when you ask for help.”

“Everyone just looks the other way and that isn’t…” You bit your lip to keep from screaming.

“It isn’t fair. I know,” she whispered. Her sympathy didn't make you feel better. “I won’t make excuses for him because what he has done is awful, but he isn’t entirely evil. He’s… flawed. We all are.”

Would Bucky be so flawed if people didn’t enable him or look the other way? “Do you think I’ll get used to belonging to him? I keep fighting it, but…” Doors kept getting slammed in your face in terms of help and that hope continued to fade. Was it time to accept the inevitable?

She considered your question. “I can’t say if you’ll get used to it, but there’s a careful balance between embracing a circumstance while maintaining your own boundaries. You need to find that.”

“But I have no boundaries thanks to Bucky,” you argued. He took them away.

“Maybe not now, but you could get some back down the line. He isn’t a man most people win fights against, but he’s still just a man. Use what you know about him and sway him. You have a little more power than you think.”

You thought back to the club when Jax flirted with you. Bucky worked himself up, but your touch and soft demeanor helped calm him down. “I guess I could try,” you said. It seemed easy enough, but he was so good at swinging things in his favor that you had a hard time believing you had a chance.

“And it isn’t much, but I can offer you a space here to use on occasion if you need time away from him. I know you don’t believe he’ll let you use it, but I think you can convince him and you deserve a safe haven,” she said, smiling a little when she handed you a card. “I could even have one of the girls teach you some self defense if you’re interested in any lessons.”

You turned the card over. There was only a phone number listed and a black widow spider. “I appreciate the offer, Natasha,” you said, tucking it in your bag. It wasn’t freedom, but it was something. And whatever Natasha’s full story was, your heart went out to her. “Can I ask what the second thing is?”

“Excuse me?”

“You said Bucky has only wanted two things in the time you’ve known him and I’m one of them. What’s the other thing?”

She shook her head. “That’s for him to tell you.”

Ray came out of the room a moment later. “All clear. Not that I expected anything less from you and your staff, Natalia,” he said. It earned him a small smile as she passed his room card over. “I’ll be just across the hall if you need me.”

“And you can ask for me personally if you call the desk,” Natasha added.

“I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine,” you said honestly. As long as Bucky didn't show up. “I’ll just order some wine and food, curl up in bed, and finish reading my book.” You didn’t need much else.

“Are you sure?” Ray asked.

“I’m sure,” you smiled softly. He had done enough by bringing you there. “Thank you both.”

They each gave you a sympathetic gaze as you stepped inside and shut the door behind you. The red, black, and gray theme continued in the tastefully designed suite. It was the nicest hotel room you had ever been in. Too nice for someone like you.

Setting your bag down and removing your shoes, you went right to the bedroom with your phone and book. The large bed looked comfortable and inviting. Sighing as you stretched out, you stared at the ceiling and tried to reflect on what had recently transpired.

Natasha. She couldn't directly help you and she had her reasons, but she might be a good ally. She was at least in the camp that you deserved some sense of freedom and offered you a small form of sanctuary. It was better than nothing.

Ray, you still couldn't figure him out. Like Natasha, he wouldn't directly help you. Bucky said he was loyal and didn't let emotions cloud him. He seemed to care to an extent though.

You froze when a message popped up on your phone. It wasn't from Bucky though. It was from your coworker, Kate.

“Hey, girl! You know Clark? Pretty blue eyes. Super hot. He stopped in and asked when your next shift was.”

Your stomach twisted in knots. Why was he asking? “Hey. What did you tell him?”

Kate messaged back quickly and your stomach twisted up more. “Told him you’d be in tomorrow and he looked happy until Mrs. Crandle announced that you have a boyfriend?! Girl, WHAT?! I need all the details!”

You groaned and hid your face in the pillow. Mrs. Crandle meant no harm, but this was the last thing you needed. Maybe Clark wouldn't come around after hearing that. “I’ll tell you about it during our next shift together.”

You didn't look at your phone for the rest of the afternoon. Instead, you lost yourself in the pages of the book and only took a break to order a drink and meal from the room service menu. And true to Natasha’s word, no one disturbed you. The food was left outside of the door once ready. Natasha even had a nice pair of pajamas sent up for you.

It was a quiet and relaxing rest of the day.

But as the sun went down and you got ready for bed, you held up your left hand and looked at your bare ring finger. A shuddering breath left your lungs as you imagined a ring around your finger. How happy your friends would be that you found love. How happy Bucky would be to have you tied to him forever.

Glancing at the empty side of the bed after your delicious meal, you wondered how it was going to be sleeping next to Bucky. Was he a cuddler or would he want his own space? Would he hog the covers? You would find out soon enough, wouldn't you?

But for today, he left you alone. He kept his promise. Yes, he sent Ray to watch you, but he hadn't shown up or reached out. He actually gave you some space instead of smothering you. And with you in the suite, he didn't have eyes on you.

Who knows? Maybe his mood improved and he had a good day without you. One could only hope.

“Good night, Bucky,” you whispered, closing your eyes and getting the sleep you craved.

A loud knock on the door woke you. Slowly opening your eyes with a groan, you wondered what time it was. Your body alarm clock said it was too early. Stretching, you made your way to the door and stopped when you heard raised voices outside.

“Get the hell out of my way, Natasha.”

You gasped when you heard Bucky’s voice, the quick anger rushing through you making you clench your fists. God, you knew it. You knew he’d show up.

“Don't make me put you on your ass, Barnes.” Natasha didn't sound afraid at all. What was it like to not have fear? “I’ll repeat myself in case you didn't hear me the first time: My instructions were that she wasn't to be disturbed and that includes you. So unless you're checking in, I suggest you leave. The fact that you’re even on this floor after I promised no one would bother her-”

“He was up here to speak with me,” Ray cut in.

“And I did. Now I need to see her,” Bucky said, the desperation in his voice making your heart ache.

“Boss, it’s two in the morning.”

“Exactly. You need to let her sleep. It’s the least you could do,” Natasha urged.

“I promised her the day to herself, but that day is up and I have to see that she’s okay,” Bucky argued. You were lucky he didn't knock on your door at 12:01. “I just need to see her with my own eyes.”

The bugs at your place would've given him access to whatever he wanted, but he didn't have that in the suite. It was probably driving him crazy. He sure as hell sounded out of sorts.

“Wow, an entire day. How generous.” You almost laughed at Natasha’s snark. It was appreciated. “Is this about Zemo? I know he saw her at the park, but he hasn’t been around here. We both know I’d never allow him to set foot in the door without a very good reason.”

“I still need to deal with him and he’ll be lucky if I don’t kill him with my bare hands,” Bucky growled, making you tense up.

“You have enough blood on your hands, but what’s one more body?” Natasha asked, the conversation reminding you once again that Bucky was a killer. “Look, I’m not going to disturb her and neither should you.”

“Natasha-”

“No. You played this wrong, Barnes. You could've chosen a compassionate route of courting her and eased her into this, but you intimidated her from the start and made it so she won’t ever be free of you. Maybe you're more like your father than-”

The sound of something colliding with the nearby wall made you jump back from the door, your heart thudding. It took a moment to get your bearings before you threw the door open to make sure Natasha was okay. The redhead, Ray, and Bucky all looked toward you and no one had a single mark on them. The wall beside the door, however, had a fist sized hole.

“Kotyonok,” Bucky smiled the second he saw you. He looked like he hadn't slept much. Good. Now he knew how it felt.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, not having it in you to scream, cry, or anything else. “And did you just punch a hole in the wall?”

He chuckled sheepishly, brushing off his gloved hand. “Yeah, I did that.”

He was unbelievable.

“I’m so sorry he woke you,” Natasha said, putting out an arm to stop Bucky when he stepped forward. “Back up, Barnes. You’ve seen for yourself that she’s fine.”

“Yep. I’m fine.” You gestured to yourself and yawned. “Can I please go back to sleep?”

“Can I come in for just a minute?” Bucky asked, a touch of guilt in his eyes when you narrowed yours. He was pushing his luck when all you wanted to do was go back to bed. “Please?”

“Apologize to Natasha for damaging her property,” you demanded. He had no right to do that.

“I’m sorry, Natasha,” he sincerely stated.

Natasha’s mouth parted before her cool expression took over again. “Thankfully no one else was on this floor, so you hopefully didn't disturb anyone else.”

Bucky's eyes were still on you, full of longing. “May I please come in?”

You mulled over it. Technically he still kept his promise and let you be for a day. You could be angry later that he showed up so early. For now, you needed sleep.

“Come in,” you said, surprising everyone, yourself included. “It’s fine,” you assured Natasha and Ray.

The redhead nodded after a moment and lowered her arm, but the bodyguard shot his boss a subtle glare. “You know I'll have to bill you for the damage,” Natasha told Bucky.

“I know,” he said. He could afford it.

“Thank you, Ray. Natasha. I hope you both get some rest, too,” you said, letting Bucky into the suite and shutting the door.

Bucky let out a breath as he looked you over, but didn't move any closer when you backed up. Of course he had to invade what was meant to be your haven for the night. Strangely, you weren't as nervous as usual to have him so close. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you mumbled, crossing your arms when he slipped his jacket off. “You really couldn't wait until after sunrise to see me?”

“I’m sorry. I was up late at the club and Ray said you were here and… I missed you,” he explained, his expression soft.

It was kind of nice to be missed. “I’m sure you did,” you yawned again. “King of the loopholes,” you added under your breath.

He ran a gloved hand through his hair. “And I’m sorry about Zemo. I should've known he would-”

You shook your head quickly. “Nope. Not having this talk when I'm still sleepy,” you said, heading toward the bedroom. It was too heavy of a discussion to have in the middle of the night. “Take your shoes off. We both know you aren't leaving.”

He looked surprised all over again when you looked back at him. “You’re letting me stay?” he asked, a smile on his face like you handed him a gift. “You aren't telling me to leave?”

“Stay or go, up to you, but I'm going back to sleep,” you said, curling up on the bed. “And if you sleep next to me, don't you dare let your hands wander.”

“And you’re letting me lay with you,” he said, the mattress dipping beside you. “You’re being very agreeable.”

“You’re lucky I’m choosing to be nice instead of kicking your ass or letting Natasha kick your ass for disturbing me and my sleep,” you said, tensing up when he spooned you, his arm wrapped tight around you and his breath warm against your neck. “We have some things to talk about when I wake up.”

Ray following you. Zemo. Natasha’s offer. Bucky’s mom. Your relationship.

“We can talk about whatever you want,” he whispered, nuzzling you gently as your eyes shut. “Did you miss me yesterday?”

“No,” you mumbled.

Your reply didn't stop him from chuckling. “Not even a little bit?”

You sighed. “If I say ‘yes’, will you let me sleep?”

“I will,” he answered.

“I missed you a little,” you said, snuggling further into the pillow. He placed his hand over yours and you blamed your tiredness for why you didn't tense up again. “Now sleep.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, but didn't push any further, thankfully. “Thank you for letting me hold you.”

Your heart clenched. He sounded so happy just to be around you, just to be in your space. You were his everything.

“You’re welcome,” you mumbled, drifting off not long after.

Your last thought before you fell asleep was that you hoped Bucky would behave himself.

Lovelies, I think we all knew Bucky would show up the first chance he had. What do we think of Natasha? Is she being truthful that she can't help or is she biding her time? Will Bucky behave? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

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