#yes i just watched exit wounds don't look @ me

[baukitten]

the thing abt penny saying " i don't want to lose who i am just so i can do this job. " is that i will cry every time. she had no idea what she'd be doing when she agreed to join the fbi. she didn't know what it was like to watch the people around her get kidnapped and shot and tortured . she didn't know what it felt like to be shot . she didn't know she was going to figure out how long it takes for someone to strangle someone to death or what decomposing bodies look like . she did it because she didn't want to go to prison . she did it because she'd made a mistake in her heartache that she regretted & don't get her wrong this job - it gives her so much . it gives her a family that she loves so much more than she ever expected . it gives her purpose . it gives her a way to save people and be the kind of hero her parents would be proud of . but it takes so , so , so much of her .

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine King catching feelings for you

Kaido: ah, there he is, King this is the new navigator for the main ship

King: [eyes you in disinterest] I see

You: hello, I look forward to working with you.

King: I'm sure you do.

You: [ignores his rude comment]

Kaido: would you show them around the ship for me?

King: I suppose

You: [opens the door and gestures to it] Lead the way handsome.

King: [looks at you in surprise]

During a dinner

King: [sees you're not touching your sashimi plate]

You: [notices him looking] Do you like sashimi?

King: ... Yes

You: I'm a tad full at the moment to eat mine, could I get your help with it?

King: [wastes no time taking the platter from you] I take it you don't like sashimi?

You: it's not that, I'm just not in the mood for it.

King: [can't tell if you're lying] Good, because I don't know if I can work with someone who doesn't like sashimi.

You: but it would mean more for you.

King: [pauses because he didn't think of it that way before] ... So you're going to give me all your sashimi from now on?

You: [smiles at him] Maybe, if you've been a good boy.

King: [feels unfamiliar emotions stir within him]

After that dinner

You: [goes to King's rooms] King?... King, Kaido wanted me to deliver this course log to you to review for tomorrow... Huh, I'll just leave it on his desk with a note.

King: [exits the shower with just a towel and sees you kneeling on his desk chair and scribbling something down]

You: [turns around to see him trying to duck into another room] King? Is that you?

King: [freezes, knowing he's been seen]

You: wow, I've never seen you without your mask, [realizes this is a breach of his privacy, so you should your eyes] Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to look, I promise I won't say anything to anyone.

King: [grabs his sword and stands over you]

You: [looks up when you hear the blade slide out of the sheath]

King: [feels dread and guilt fill his chest when he sees the look of terror in your eyes]

You: why?

King: I can't let you leave now that you know what I am, the government can't know that I'm still alive. I won't ever go back to being someone else's lab rat.

You: I understand. [Lowers your head in acceptance]

King: [can't bring himself to kill you, so he throws it down] damn it all, get out of my chair.

You: [scrabbles out, and silently watches him sit down and make a call using his den den mushi]

King: Kaido, the new navigator knows

Kaido: ehh? I just got them, do you know how hard it is to find a decent navigator and you're telling me you already killed the brand-new one!

King: I haven't killed them.

Kaido: They escaped you, are they at least wounded?

King: [gets comfortable in his chair] No, they're standing right before me.

You: [had a perfect view of his thighs and the v of his hips peaking out of the towel, and now you can see up his towel, so you look away]

Kaido: what's the hold-up?

King: [sees you looking away, so he leans forward, takes your jaw in his hand, and makes you look at him] We can't afford to lose our only navigator while out at sea. I want to keep them by my side in the meantime.

Kaido: [can tell he's not hearing the full truth] ... As long as it doesn't interfere with their duties, you can do whatever you want with them.

King: thank you

Kaido: now good night [hangs up]

King: [puts down the receiver, and runs his thumb over your lips] ... If you try to leave my sight, I will kill you without hesitation. You will stay by my side, and do everything I say. I do not tolerate disobedience, do you understand me? [Gently shakes you to get his point across]

You: [feels tears well up in your eyes]

King: [feels guilty] I'll have servants bring your things, you'll sleep here, with me, from now on... I'm not doing this to punish you, I'm doing this for my own safety, and because I don't want to kill you.

You: [sniffles] I understand

King: [can hear your distress in your voice and it makes him feel sick] Through that door is the bathroom, go bathe while I make a few calls.

You: [slinks into the other room]

King: [calls the kitchens to deliver your favorite desserts, and calls the servant quarters to have them bring your stuff to his quarters]

After your shower

You: [exits the bathroom wearing a clean kimono]

King: [lounging on the couch, in front of a rather impressive spread of sweets] Your things have been moved into your new room.

You: I'm getting a room all to myself?

King: no, you'll be sleeping with me, I need to know where you are at all times

You: we'll be sharing a bed?!

King: yes, now please help yourself to these sweets, I did order them for you.

You: you did, why? [Goes directly for your favorite dessert]

King: You were distressed, and this was the only way I could think of to help you feel better... Your distress is understandable, I know this isn't ideal for you, being practically chained to my side... And while I can't let you go, I just wanted you to know that... I don't want you to worry or be afraid of me, because I'm not going to hurt you. I can't risk going back to what I was before Kaido, I won't go back to it.

You: ... You mentioned the government earlier, I take it you were held captive by them.

King: yes, it's why I wear the mask.

You: [can see him practically squirming in his seat] Really? And here I was thinking you wore it because it was a fetish.

King: well it is, but it's not the sole reason I wear it.

You: Sasaki owes me 800 Berry then.

King: you people were betting on me?

You: to be fair we bet on everything, there's not a lot to do on a boat in the middle of the ocean.

King: [sighs dramatically] That's true, but back to the topic at hand, I usually kill people for finding out what I am.

You: but not me, what makes me so special?

King: I don't know.

You: [ruminates for a moment] How did seeing me distressed make you feel?

King: uncomfortable, guilty, I dunno? I just didn't like it.

You: hmm I see, so you don't want to kill me, seeing me upset disturbs you, and you have anxiety if I am out of your sight.

King: believe whatever you want about my reasoning, it changes nothing.

You: ... One final question

King: [rolls his eyes, and crosses his arms] Fine, final question.

You: when you were on the call with Kaido, why did you make me look at you?

King: I didn't like that you were looking away.

You: I see.

King: ... Why did you look away?

You: I could see up your towel.

King: How much did you see?

You: some of your balls, and most of your shaft.

King: [feels arousal and embarrassment well up in him] Are you finished with your food?

You: I believe so.

King: come, I'll show you the bedroom.

You: [follows him and takes it in] Why are there no lights?

King: because it's time for bed [gets settled in bed when he notices you haven't moved] are you coming or are you sleeping on the floor?

You: that bed doesn't look like it'll fit both of us?

King: [rolls his eyes, grabs your arm, and pulls you into the bed up on his chest.] It's just fine, relax and go to sleep, I won't do anything.

You: [rests your weight on him and struggles to get comfortable]

King: [agitated because you're so close to him and he's experiencing new emotions he didn't know he had] Would you stop fidgetingñ

You: I'm trying to get comfortable and avoid kicking you in your dick!

King: [realizes how aroused he is by having you so close] tsk, do it quickly.

The next morning

King:[wakes up empty-handed, panics, and looks around until he sees you]

You: [asleep on his wing, face nuzzled into his down feathers, and has handfuls of his flight feathers.]

King: [mental cogs slide into place and he realizes he's in love with you] Oh fuck [sits up]

You:[awakens with a shriek when the surface below is yanked out from under you]

King: [sits up on the side of the bed with his hands covering his face]

You: [pushes your upper half up onto your palms as you twist to look over at him] What's going on?

King: [ looks over to see you half asleep, messy-haired, and your kimono had loosened in your sleep and was now only closed over your lap and under the obi belt, giving him an eyeful of your shoulders, the center of your chest, and from mid-thigh down]

You: it's like five in the morning, what's going on? [Reaches out and pulls on his feathers]

King: nothing, go back to sleep.

You: [doesn't need to be told twice, and plops back down and wiggles back into a comfortable position]

Bout a week later

King: [has so much pent-up tension he's basically a walking time bomb that everyone avoids]

Kaido: what have you been doing to him to make him so cranky?

You: I have absolutely no clue.

Kaido: well you better do something about it before he snaps and burns down my ship.

You: [ goes to King's room to find him tensed up and hunched over his desk] Kaido wants me to do something.

King: what now?

You: he wants me to fix whatever I've been doing to make you so cranky.

King: [scoffs] You haven't done anything.

You: [climbs into his lap, straddles his thighs, and cups his cheeks] And that might be what I'm doing wrong.

King: [relaxes at the softness in your voice, but pulls your hands away from his mask] This is my problem to deal with.

You: can I please help, I'll do anything.

King: anything?

You: [nods] anything

King: [wraps his hands around your hips, and pushes you down so you're seated on his lap]

You: [feels the heat rolling off the erection trapped in his pants] Oh my

King: [guides your body to gently rock against him] You said you'd do anything, and it's your fault it's like this. Don't you think you should take responsibility?

You: [huffs, but puts your back into grinding down on him] It's been days since I moved in, why didn't you tell me sooner?

King: I was already keeping you captive, [Grunts and starts to pant as he tilts his hips up to get more friction] It felt like I would've been pressuring you into something non-consensual.

You: I see [slows your movements to a halt]

King: [huffs and bucks his hips in frustration, pulling on your hips to get you to move again] Don't fucking stop, please.

You: [goes slow] Tell me, is this just lust?

King: [desperate] It can be anything you want it to be, please I just want you.

You: is this all you want? My body?

King: I'll take whatever you give me, but I'll always want more. I'm so fucking greedy for you. I want it all, I want the sashimi you don't like. I want fun evenings out, and restless nights in with you, only to be followed by quiet passionate mornings with you. I want you to look at only me, smile at only me, to fuck only me. I'll take whatever you give, just please give me this, [Presses his thumbs into the softness on your belly] even if it's only this once.

You: you're in love with me?

King: [slumps pathetically into his chair in defeat, and looks at the ceiling] Fuck ... Yes, I am. I am in love with you, and spending every night with you pressed against me has made me insatiable.

You: [giggles]

King: [flips you off]

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[thought--bubble]

In Need of an Heir Pt 8

Aemond X (Baratheon! Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 2,656

In Need of an Heir Masterlist

Canon Aemond Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Dividers and Banners by @arcielee

Warnings:: attempted Non-con Reader discretion advised.

Aemond watches your form retreat down the hallway. His heart tells him to chase after you to fix the situation, but his mind tells him there is no use. You hate him. As you should. As everyone should.

Aemond turns around to head back to his own chambers. He has no desire to walk to gardens without you and chooses to wallow in self-pity. He berates himself the entire walk back. Why would I ask her if she's trying to escape? She was simply telling me what kind of books she likes! I couldn't possibly be this bad at general conversation?

As he arrives at his chambers, his mother and Criston Cole are stationed outside the door. His entire body instantly tenses. He is in no mood for this.

"NO" is the only thing he says as he gets nearer. "Not today, no." He moves to open the door to his chamber when Alicent places her hand on the door solemn expression on her face.

"It's Aegon, the maesters...... they don't think there is much time left...... he wishes to see you." Her voice trembles, wirh the ache of a mother who has watched her children fall one by one. The slow, painful death of her eldest son has aged her beyond repair.

"He's in his rooms?" Aemond asks without turning his head. He can not bear to look into the eyes of his mother as her heart breaks again. The guilt of the role he played in the injuries his brother sustained plague him every time he looks into her eyes.

"Yes, please go see him. Even if just for a moment, " she pleads while tightly gripping his forearm.

Aemond gently removes her hand from his arm and gives it a gentle squeeze as he keeps his sight on her chapped and torn fingers.

"I will see it done"

Aemond takes off towards Aegon's rooms, nausea curling its way up his spine growing to a tightening in his chest. This may be one of the last moments he gets to spend with his brother. With his sister, Heleana, and his brother Daeron long dead, the ache in his chest burns hot.

As he approaches the door to Aegon's chambers, the maester is exiting his face says it all.

"How is he then?" Aemond makes sure that his voice comes out strong and sure, although the little brother inside him is weeping.

"The wounds he suffered in battle. The infections we've fought them as best we can for as long as we could, but I'm afraid..... I'm afraid there isn't much else we can do. I've offered to make him comfortable, but he refuses milk of the poppy"

Aemond nods his head and swallows back the pained expression that is attempting to claw its way onto his face.

He releases a deep sigh as he pushes open the door. It smells like death. The smell was reminiscent of Viserys as he withered away and died. His son was somehow doomed to the same fate.

Yet Aegon was a stronger man. One would never have estimated the man Aegon grew to be. Even as he was slowly engulfed by the stranger, he made plans and put things in place to ensure his family would be ok upon his death. Something his father could never do.

"Aegon?" Aemond walked closer to the bed chamber tentatively. He wanted to see his brother while simultaneously not wanting to see his brother. Not like this.

In a garbled, broken voice, Aegon called out to him. "Aemond? Brother?"

Aemond pushes through the curtains that had been hung before the bedchamber to give Aegon some privacy and the comfort of darkness and sat in the chair by his bedside.

Aemond looked ahead. Looking at Aegon in this state was too much to bare. His screams at rooks rest echo through the recesses of Aemond's mind. The night Aemond had spent running through the dragon battle in his mind, what could he have done differently? To save his brother and keep him whole? Unfortunately, he would never know the answer.

"The stranger will be coming for me soon," Aegon manages to say between labored gasps. "I wanted so badly to make it long enough to see your son. To see our future, but the gods have different plans, it seems." Aemond sits silently unsure of what he should say, his eldest brother, his last sibling is dying before his eyes, and there is not a thing he can do to stop it. The grief and helplessness taking their toll.

"I need you to promise, brother. You will not stop until you have a son, and you will marry that son to Jaheara." Aegon lays with his eyes closed his hand grasping tightly to Aemonds.

"This was already decided, brother." Aemond replies, unsure of why Aegon would ask this.

"By me. The king. As we both very well know the word of a king holds no weight once he is dead." Aegon coughs and gasps for air while Aemond watches his insides twisting and turning. This is his brother. His last sibling slowly slipping through his fingers. He grips Aegons hand tighter, silently begging him not to let go.

"I wish for Jaheara to be queen. She is all that is left of me, all that is left of Heleana, but I will not foolishly send her to the slaughter by naming her heir. I'm a smarter man than my father. I love my daughter enough to know that I do not wish the realm to turn upon her."

Aemond watches as Aegon again struggles for air. Through garbled breath, he is able to get out one final sentence. "Please don't swear to your king, promise your brother, Jaheara will be queen, married to your son and protected for always." Aegon grasps Aemonds hands his fingernails biting at his skin.

"I promise, I will see it done." Aemond then sits by Aegon's side for a few hours, watching him struggle to breathe until he drifts off to sleep. Aemond gets up and walks to the end of the bedchamber before looking back at Aegon, and he feels it.

"Goodbye, brother."

Aemond leaves him in the care of the maesters and stalks of toward his rooms thats where he had planned to go anyway yet his feet pull him in a different direction and by the time he is able to pull himself out of his own thoughts he is standing before the door of your chambers.

He bangs on the door more than knocks. His brother is dying, his sister is dead, and their daughter, the only one he didn't get killed, needs him, and he is failing her spectacularly.

A maid opens the door, looking up at Aemond with trepidation. "My prince".

"Is my wife in?" The disdain behind his tone at the pronunciation of the word "wife" was not lost on the maid who nodded her head quickly while slightly shrinking back.

"Y-yes, my prince, she is in the bath"

Without another word to the maid, Aemond pushes through into the room where you are currently getting your hair washed.

"Leave us." Aemond enunciated the venom laced words quickly, and both maids scatter from the room.

You sit in the tub facing away from him, your heart pounding like a hammer in your chest. This tone of voice you had never heard from him. This isn't his usual cool stoism. No, it is clear what this is. This is anger.

You try to speak, but words escape you as you internally curse the gods for sending him here now while you are naked wet and vulnerable. Your first thought is that you need to make yourself less vulnerable immediately.

You move to get out of the tub but are quickly pulled back down by your hair, causing water to splash up and over the sides. You grip the sides of the tub in panic.

"Sit wife. You must finish your hair. " He again pronounces the word" wife "with vitriol as goosebumps travel up your spine and onto your neck. You are no coward, but you are also not and idiot. This is a dragon. A pissed off dragon, and you are at a grave disadvantage.

"Is there something the matter, Lord husband?" You attempt to keep your voice strong. You can't afford to show him weakness, not in this moment.

"Of course not. Can a husband not assist his wife?" He starts to wash out the soap and oils from your hair, his grip is firm, and he tugs along your hair. There is no gentleness or sensuality to be seen.

"This can not go on," he states plainly. Before you can respond, he continues to speak, "You are my wife. I need you to start acting like it"

He pulls your head back by your hair, your neck cranes over the back of the tub, and he looks down into your eyes. "We will perform our duty tonight. You will come to my chambers after dinner. Do you understand?"

You nod, just wanting to end this moment your vulnerable neck splayed out and naked body just under the surface of the water.

"Good, that's good." He releases your hair and continues to rinse it, massaging at your scalp tenderly. The mixture of violence and gentleness, the telltale sign of a dragon.

You sit in the tub, your shoulders tense, not making a sound.

"Relax, dear wife. I am not going to harm you. I am your protector, after all. " He finishes rinsing your hair and moves to get you a towel.

"After dinner tonight, you will come to my rooms, and we will consummate this marriage"

He holds the towel open for you as you rise out of the tub, not saying a word. You wrap the towel around yourself averting your eyes from him.

You would not show him weakness, yet you would not stand in direct opposition. A true strategy is smart, not brash. It is thought out in the mind not played out through the heart.

Aemond nods towards you one more time before abruptly leaving your chambers. As soon as he is gone, you squeak out a cry. The tension you had been holding comes flooding out. You sit down on your bed, your face in your hands.

Your entire body trembles as you try and piece together exactly what just happened. What happened to make him change his behavior towards you so drastically?

You move quickly to get into your clothes for dinner, your mind racing. Why is he being like this so suddenly?

You knew a time would come when he would demand the marriage be consummated, the fact he hadn't already made that demand had surprised you but the way he addressed it today, the anger he contained yet also expressed towards you was off putting. You wanted more than anything to feign illness and skip dinner so you could hide away in your chambers or somehow escape the castle altogether.

Knowing that was impossible you dredged on, getting ready on your own being in no mood to have your maids around. You choose a basic dress, nothing fancy.

You begrudgingly make your way to the dining area and are shocked to see only Jaheara and her maid there since you had put off going to the last possible moment you should be last not first.

You sit down and the dining staff move about quietly keeping their heads down. The ominous silence in the room setting alarm bells off in your head. They should be here. Aemond not showing up isn't surprising. Aegon as well since he's so sick, but Alicent would not leave Jaheara to have dinner alone without a damn good reason.

After you and Jaheara finish eating, you go to Aemond's chambers as he had ordered but find them empty. Maybe he was just in a foul mood and did not intend to hold you to his earlier demand? One could only hope.

That couldn't be it. There is something much more serious amiss. The hallways are quiet. the rooms are empty, and you haven't seen one member of the royal family, save for the only living child.

You arrive back to your chambers and wait. You know eventually someone will let you know what is happening and with your current relationship with your husband being in the sorry state that it was waiting to be alerted to the comings and goings is really all you could do.

Minutes turned to hours as you sat before the hearth waiting for a knock on the door, screams down the hall. something. Anything would be better than waiting like this.

Yet as the night got later, the answer never came. Until you finally acquiesed to your need for rest. You blow out the last candle by the side of your bed, and that is the last thing you remember until you are awoken into a nightmare.

"Wake up, wife." The raspy words of your husband wake you in a daze as he tears the blankets off of your sleeping form. The sudden chill and the energy radiating off of your husband made it easier to alert to full attention.

"Aemond what has happened?" You attempt to sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes.

"What has happened?" He scoffs. His voice is higher pitched. manic.

"What has happened is tomorrow i will be crowned king of the seven kingdoms and I have no heir. I have not even consummated my marriage" He nearly barks at you.

Your face contorts in confusion. "Tomorrow? What-"

Before you can get the words out Aemond has climbed in your bed and drags you toward him by your thigh.

You immediatly react by kicking your free leg. "Stop it!"

Aemond moves up the length of your body and snatches you by the chin. "Listen here, wife, you will be quiet and do your duty in giving me the heir that the kingdom requires. Are you capable of that? Or must I dispatch of you and get me a wife, that is?"

His pupil is blown and staring back at you wildly, and you know. Fighting him now will only get you hurt or killed.

You lay your head back and turn it to the side. "Do what you must, husband." You say the final word with all the distaste he had been showing you as of late.

You feel him moving your legs and positioning himself above you as you blankly stare at the wall trying to count the cracks between the stones in order to disconnect your mind from your body as you await the intrusion. The intrusion that doesn't come.

Aemond hovers above you for what feels like hours but could realistically only be a few minutes before he brings his forehead down to your chest.

"I can't do it this way. " The words are muffled into your chest hardly audible as you feel tears hit your skin. His tears. Aemond brings his hands down to your waist and holds on tightly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry".

You don't move or speak, you just listen. The sounds of his quiet sobs and your barely audible breathing the only noise in the room.

"Forgive me" He whispers quietly before placing one delicate kiss on your chest and removing himself from your bed. Quickly collecting the clothing items he had left at your bedside and disappearing back out into the castle leaving you visibly shaken.

"Tomorrow he will be crowned king?" You feel panic rise and bubble in your chest, as it starts to actually settle in what just happened to you. What the pressure almost made him do.

Tomorrow he would be King, which means you would be Queen and both your family and the realm are in need of an heir.

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[kaijuparfait]

I saw ur tags about indulging in the body horror aspect of the Symbiote/Host dynamic and im just here to say: do it >:3

YES.

GOD. ok so. I've always enjoyed the concept of body horror, not all the way, but it looked cool in art! But! Recently Symbrock (and Venom as a whole) has turned that up to 100- both in a "Wow! Cool alien creature biting people's heads off! >:D" way, but also in a "The goo is in his organs, his tissue, his cells... how romantic!" way.

And, if you'll excuse me, I'll only be talking about my (limited) knowledge/headcanons with Symbrock because I haven't read all the comics yet so this is all with Eddie and the Venom Symbiote in mind-

Firstly, I don't think I've ever seen anyone mention how the Symbiote can enter/exit it's Host's body through their skin, without damaging the Host. There's no wounds, just the easy slide in between layers of cells, Venom can be as solid as they want but can also come together so seamlessly, its like watching someone fold a deck of cards.

Even on a psychological standpoint, the idea of actually being "Venom". Singular. Not "We" are Venom. But the idea of two beings, from different sides of the universe, coming together perfectly as one being, one mind, one consciousness. A bit of an OC ramble, I have this OC that goes into this idea of acting as one being and I'll talk about them later but WOAH is it fun. The sheer intimacy of it.. not losing your own self, but simply combing it with another to create something- someone new.

Ok onto the actual body horror-

I am not normal about the Symbiote literally being in Eddie's blood. Blood is everywhere in the body, anywhere you poke, blood will come out- and in that, the Symbiote, ready to heal the wound.

Speaking of healing wounds, and also this post because I keep rereading it, it makes me ill, the Venom Symbiote truly sees it's Host as it's home. and that does something to me. The way it keeps the body healthy, like how you would clean your house, no longer having to worry about illnesses or infections; how it heals any injuries, like fixing a broken wall, repainting it, like there was no damage in the first place.

Knowing it's home so well, able to know what's wrong and how to make it right. Complete and utter devotion to it's beloved home, the one that keeps it safe, willingly, lovingly let's it- wants it inside to keep it safe. To know that something that could tear apart planets if it so wanted to, something that bares it's rows of teeth as a natural expression, something that has destroyed countless lives- to know something like that gently rests in the space between your organs because it wants to. And how much you want it to too.

And this goes both ways too! When they're Venom and get hurt, they way the Symbiote peels away from the body is.. its amazing that the Symbiote can be torn away from it's Host. When Eddie gets hurt, the Symbiote comes out, from inside- When Venom gets hurt, instead of blood or organs, it's Eddie at the center, but he acts as the same anyways. Eddie is the Symbiote's life, he is it's heart, carefully tucked away and protected.

Even though Eddie doesn't particularly enjoy eating people's brains, he comes up with a compromise for the 2 of them anyways, he buys tons of chocolate for it to eat too, and that adds up for a guy that is living in a one room flat. and AND AND I will never get over how, in LTBC, Venom leaves all the red m&m's, because the red dye is said to be harmful to humans in large amounts, so even though it's one of the few things it needs to live, it refuses it to keep Eddie- it's Host- it's home safe.

and, I mean, Venom totally could eat Eddie if it so wanted to, in the first movie, Eddie's literally going through.. several organ failures- but Venom puts him back together, back better! and i am suddenly ill-

excuse my weird ideas but hhhhhh Eddie being torn apart and put back together..... yeah. how much trust is needed for that? how much love is shown from letting it consume his flesh and bones, from it eating the thing it loves the most, from it knowing every ridge and curve of every organ and cell to put everything back where it was?

how much love is needed to destroy something, to be destroyed, and come back together?

also Trust Exercise is a dang good fic, i need more of this. please. or i'll start making it myself (i'll do it anyways)

This, too, can go both ways, I am a big fan of swapping how Eddie and Venom and portrayed, both in canon and in fanon, just for the fun of it- and I'm just saying... let Eddie tear apart the Symbiote! maybe Eddie wants to rip it apart with his teeth and bare hands! Let them fight and rip each other apart, but with love <3 (oh fight/sparring scenes between friends/lovers, how i love you so)

you can't really see it well, and i'll make a better show of it later, but my design for (movie) Eddie has sharp teeth and that isn't for no reason. I.... ADORE the idea that, after being Venom for so long, Eddie starts adapting parts of them into his "normal" body- sharper teeth, clouded eyes, maybe even some of his skin is pitch black too, just because it makes him feel like Venom in his everyday life, even a little bit.

ough i need to lay down after that but- THANK YOU so much for asking me this, this was such a treat to let out, it's like a weight has been lifted off me lmao

i'll probably have more on this topic later on, but i'll probably use those ideas for art/writing, i love thinking about them :3

EDIT: ALSO ALSO ALSO the way the Venom Symbiote literally goes against it's very nature to love Eddie, it goes against what every other Symbiote does, it betrays it's entire race and planet- JUST TO BE VENOM WITH EDDIE <3

[werewolves-are-real]

Time Travel Temeraire snippet

At first, Laurence assumes he's dead.

It's a natural conclusion. He remembers dying, after all.

He and Tenzing were at a function hosted by Wellesley. They were mostly there to support the dragons. Temeraire had long abandoned them to quarrel with Perscitia in the courtyard, with half a dozen ferals watching like it were a jousting match. Wellesley had laid out his grounds to allow room for dragons and men to mingle, but a good portion of the guests retreated inside to avoid the raised voices of the dragons.

Laurence wonders how Temeraire felt about that, later. About not seeing.

He was stabbed. He barely remembers it – just a quick pulse of pain in his chest, looking down. Red blooming over his coat.

Then he was on the floor. People screamed. Tenzing appeared, grappling with a tall and finely-dressed man; he used a dinner-knife to punch a hole in the stranger's throat, in a fantastic spray of blood, and dropped the body at once to kneel by Laurence's side.

He remembers Wellesley barking orders – bandages, water, a hot knife. Have to cauterize it, he'd shouted. Keep pressure -

But Tenzing never spoke. Just pressed down on Laurence's chest, over the wound, without particular panic. Laurence still remembers the grim resignation on his face; Tenzing knew what was coming. Laurence was glad to have him there when he died.

Then Laurence woke up.

The world sways in a familiar way, a rhythmic motion that Laurence registers on a soul-deep level. He's on a ship. But why? Where is Tenzing, Temeraire? Why would they put him on a ship?

“I think the fever's breaking,” says a voice. A naval doctor, disheveled and salt-stained, with long scars down his bared arms. “Oh, and awake too!”

“Well thank Christ,” says another man. One Laurence recognizes.

It's Captain Gerry Stuart – but he looks different, younger than the last time Laurence saw him, with smooth skin and dark curly hair.

Gerry died two years ago.

“Well, Lieutenant! You gave us a scare – how are you feeling?” Gerry asks.

“It's Admiral,” Laurence corrects rather than all the other things he does not dare ask. He hates the title foisted upon him; but it's at least more comprehensible than Lieutenant, and he clings to that rather than demand where did you come from.

Stuart throws back his head to cackle, though the concern doesn't leave his face. “Still perhaps a bit feverish, I think!”

“That might be the laudanum,” says the doctor, also amused. “Why don't you sleep a bit more, Lieutenant?”

“But where is Temeraire? Or Tenzing?”

“I can only assume you had some very vivid dreams,” Stuart chuckles. “You were babbling and babbling for Temeraire – isn't that a ship?”

“Perhaps the flagship of his fleet,” suggests the doctor, and Stuart laughs again. “Get some rest, Mr. Laurence. Holler if you need me.”

They both exit the sick-berth. Laurence stares blankly at the door.

What?

Laurence pats his chest. No wound. He looks down, startled by the pale thinness of his fingers, his youth-soft skin.

Well; not soft. Callouses cover his hands. But even these patterns are different – hard skin in places where he would hold a sword, or pulls ropes. His hands should be more wrinkled, yes; but these callouses faded years ago.

“Where am I?” he asks when the doctor returns. “And what is the year?”

“The year? 1793. You don't remember?”

1793. Laurence was 19 in 1793. A lieutenant for two years, on the Shorewise.

The doctor narrows his eyes. “What's my name, lad?”

Laurence swallows. His stomach churns; for the life of him he can't remember.

The doctor rushes off to retrieve the captain.

_____________________________

Laurence is diagnosed with brain fever, and partial amnesia. Gerry is horribly guilty about laughing, earlier; Laurence could not care less. He is given strict orders to stay on bed-rest for another week, in hope his strength will recover – and his mind.

Laurence doesn't think he'll have any issues working – he's forgotten many of the people around him, true, but he may never forget the way to run a ship. He's far more concerned with learning what happened.

From all appearances, it is indeed 1793. France is undergoing riots, and declared war against Britain in February. Temeraire has not hatched. Napoleon is probably a corporal or general himself, at this point. If he exists at all. God knows, perhaps Laurence is only mad.

But he doesn't feel mad. His memories are too vivid to be mere fever-dreams. A man cannot dream up twenty years of life!

But neither can a man go back to his youth, and live it all again.

I have a dragon, he thinks of saying. There is no war, because I captured Napoleon – an unknown man who makes himself emperor.

Mad. It sounds mad even to Laurence himself. But to imagine that Temeraire was a fever-ridden dream... Tenzing and Granby and China, all of it...

Laurence doesn't share his turmoil with anyone – not even with Gerry, who checks on him fretfully. After a week the doctor declares him well enough, physically. He's paired always with another lieutenant for the first few days on duty, and his shipmates watch him carefully for signs of permanent debilitation; but aside from a moment or two of hesitance, Laurence competently resumes his duties. The oversight lessens.

Laurence thinks about writing letters.

He thinks about writing to Tharkay's late father, who ought to still be alive, inquiring after his son. He thinks of writing to Prince Mianning, asking about the health of Lung Tien Qian. He thinks of writing to young Midshipman Granby, his unwed brother, his dead father...

Not all of them would reply. But he could ask questions. Could verify the truth of things. Unless this, instead, is the delusion.

Is he in 1793, imagining the future? Is he in the future, imagining the past? Or maybe he is already dead, and this is the reality of hell. He came here burning with fever, and now he burns with fear. Surely that is it's own form of torture.

Laurence is ironically given the task of tutoring the midshipman and lieutenant-hopefuls more than any other duty as the weeks pass; his crewmates still look askance, and the more eager of the midshipman become protective. Laurence remains perfectly capable of command; it is only that he can't help but be absent-minded, sometimes, staring at all the crewmen that pass him like they are nothing but moving paintings. Images of a world that no longer matters.

One evening the midshipmen drag him away to a meal with the other officers. It's a noisy crowd; Laurence would find the friendly bustle comforting in another life.

One of the senior officers, Lieutenant Moore, waves him down as Laurence enters. Evidently they used to be friends, given his notably concerned behavior of late. Laurence can't remember the man, and has a sneaking suspicion he died too soon to make a lasting impression.Moore jostles him when Laurence sits at the long table. “Will! Did you get any letters with the last batch?”

A patrolling gunboat brought a satchel of letters just this morning. “I did not,” Laurence says. He's grateful for the fact. He'd found a few pieces of correspondence in his quarters that he dutifully sent on; he cannot imagine writing a letter now, in this confused state.

“Then you've had no news! Robespierre has gone mad. Madder than before, I suppose.”

“Robespierre?” asks Laurence blankly.

Lieutenant Moore double-takes, as does everyone else around them. “Good lord, Will, please tell me you remember Robespierre?”

Right... Robespierre's reign was brief, but this is when he led France. Some of the things the papers published...

Well, at least Laurence has a well-worn excuse for his ignorance. He plays up his malady: “Yes. I think I recall he was... French?”

Groans of horror mixed with amusement echo around the table. “...Well you aren't wrong,” says Moore, looking pained. “He has styled himself the 'President' of their Assembly, which is some stupid way of being king; the French are all mad about removing and adding words right now. I don't know how they expect anyone to hold a conversation.”

“We should... probably educate Mr. Laurence about the war at some point,” some midshipman mutters. Laurence doesn't recall his name.

Moore sighs again. “Anyway. Robespierre is a tyrant, of course. But he's elected someone else to rule France! Barely more than a boy, too.”

Laurence frowns; he doesn't remember what Moore's talking about. “Why would he do that? Did they capture one of the Bourbons?” Declaring himself regent of a child-prince would at least make sense.

“Well, at least you remember them. No; it is some nobody, a young soldier. Not even French! I cannot fathom it.”

It feels like Laurence has been dunked in ice.

For a moment he can't respond. “What was his name? The soldier.”

“Napoleon Bonaparte. He has been chosen as head of their new heresy, the 'Cult of the Supreme Being,' they're calling it; and now de facto head of the government, too. Must be a priest? I don't know, nothing the French are doing makes sense. I expect his little group will be as short-lived as everything else about these riots.”

But Laurence doesn't think so. “...Excuse me; I'm feeling a bit poorly,” he says, rising on wavering legs.

“Yes, you look it! Go on, we'll tell you about the war later...”

Laurence flees.

[innerchorus]

Arslan Senki Chapter 132

Hoooooly fuck. I knew from the chapter title (Warriors From Beyond the Grave) that some horrific stuff was going to go down, but after spending all month worrying about Isfan and Kubard facing Shapur, the fact that they don't even appear this time didn't make this one any less traumatic, lmao.

So, the contents of the other head jars were revealed as dead warriors pop up across Ecbatana. Seems as though they are the ones Team Zahhak were able to gather the heads of (the two who were missing in action at the first Battle of Atropatene are not included; presumably their bodies were never located and were left somewhere on the battlefield).

I enjoyed how Arslan does as Tahamenay asked and tells Gieve to spread the word that Andragoras died in the fall when Innocentis flung them both from the tower... and that Gieve looks at the bloody dagger on the floor. You know that he knows, his look to Daryun and Narsus before he gives his assent just confirms it, and you also know he won't breathe a word of that truth.

(And here we have the first of the dodgy translations in this chapter, because of course there's not going to be further fighting between Parsians at this point unless you count undead Parsian warriors...)

I like that we see word spreading like a ripple through the city. Zaravant's reaction of "NO FUCKING WAY" followed by "Wait, really?" was hilarious. And as we see a lot of the citizens are thinking the same; a man of Andragoras's might, toppled like that? Zaravant had a close encounter with Andragoras; it's no surprise that his first reaction is denial.

Also lol Elam, not quite lying in his attempt to uphold the official version of events. Yes, he saw him die, but not quite in the way that was reported. So Zaravant wasn't wrong, really. Not that he'll ever know it.

Rumours spreading that Arslan killed Hilmes in a duel! It does make me wonder, might the truth of Hilmes's survival be kept quiet and this rumour allowed to flourish instead? Mirroring Hilmes surviving when all thought he had perished in the palace fire, this would allow him to eventually make a quiet exit with Irina and go and live out his life peacefully beyond the borders of Pars. (I would still like to see him rule Maryam with her, though.)

Tahamenay being left alone to watch over Andragoras's body is giving me prickling feelings of imminent Team Zahhak interference...

Dark storm clouds heading towards the city in that one panel look veeeery ominous. I still keep wondering whether we are going to see any of Team Zahhak's creatures unleashed on the world. I'm not sure exactly how dark things are going to get, but we did see winged apes when the legend of Zahhak and his earlier defeat was presented in Chapter 127. So who knows?

THE FACT THAT UNDEAD VAHRIZ SHOWS UP IN THE VERY COURTYARD WHERE HE USED TO TRAIN ARSLAN! I cannot scream about this coming full circle enough, and here it is so very wrong.

But even though it's his uncle, Daryun's typically fast warrior's response saves the day and he gets in front of Arslan to defend against Vahriz's blow (and fuck, these undead warriors are fast!).

The horror just continues to mount as more and more famous undead warriors return, but wrong, so very wrong. I am really digging the way they are presented, though.

Silent, black-eyed, still bearing the wounds they wore in death on their faces, their bodies wreathed in bandages... I'm... honestly not sure that anything below the neck is even corporeal. They look like severed heads on bodies formed from sorcery, wrapped in the same sort of magic-infused cloaks that Team Zahhak wear. Even their weapons are formed from tendrils of snakes (see Kharlan's spear forming). It makes me think that when they are defeated, their bodies may just disintegrate and only the severed head will remain. And that's... fucked up, considering they are fighting people who remember them, who fought by their side, who loved them.

More off translation when Manuchurh shows up; Kishward didn't see his head (he was in Peshawar), he only heard about it. I did wonder why Gieve was so slow on the uptake given that it was his report that confirmed Manuchurh's death to Kisward and Nasrin, but he heard about it from Parsian soldiers rather than recognising Manuchurh for himself. That's why he only infers it from how Kishward addresses him here.

I do like that we get to see Manuchurh's sword here! Sure, it's probably made of snakes, but it is at least modeled on the weapon he would have wielded in life, and that's a neat detail to have so late in the story.

As always, I badly wanted to see Team Hilmes but given what's going on my heart still started to beat faster in alarm when we cut to the room they're in. But it's Sam who leaves the room and is confronted by Garshasp! An undead version of the man whose death he envies... not sure I'm ready for this but please for the love of god let Sam kill a sorcerer before this is over.

Please know that when I scrolled down just far enough to spot Kharlan's moustache I scrolled back up so fucking fast and had to sit for a bit before I could continue.

ZANDEEEEEEH. THAT'S NOT YOUR FATHER! His face and the way he says "Father?" so questioningly breaks my heart.

Hilmes sees quickly that it's not, it can't be Kharlan, because he knows Kharlan is dead, and (unlike Zandeh, who hasn't actually witnessed any sorcery yet) he knows that this is something Team Zahhak are capable of... in fact, he knows it can only be them.

For one horrible second I really thought Zandeh was going to get stabbed right in the heart. Definitely made me realise how utterly devastated I'd be if he died in the manga version.

Thankfully the wound he receives on his shoulder doesn't look life-threatening, but you can see how unprepared he is for it, how he can't quite understand why his father (IT'S NOT YOUR FATHER!) is attacking him like this. I really don't think it would have gone well for him if Hilmes hadn't gotten involved. The way these jar warriors move.. It's fast, it's unnatural, it's deadly. These were all skilled warriors in life; are they even more dangerous now they are dead?

Hilmes protecting Zandeh like this is a brilliant moment, and never have I been so fucking glad to see Hilmes in a rage as I was to see him FINALLY display some anger towards the sorcerers who he knows are responsible. He must finally see now that they are not, and never were, on his side. Sam was right, and I hope Hilmes lets him know before this is over.

I keep thinking about the way the eyes of some of the undead seem to leak blood like tears... their faces look... empty, I guess, but this does make me wonder, is there any sort of awareness there? Do they know what their bodies are being used for? That bit of blood in Kharlan's eye at the end; is there part of him that somehow knows he's attacking his son? Perhaps it's nothing more than the remains oozing blood as they are puppeted by sorcery. The thought that there might be even a fragment of consciousness there is horrific, so I truly hope not.

So yeah, no sign of the encounter with Shapur but all of the undead jar warriors have now taken to the stage, and that stage is set for some unpleasant clashes next chapter. I hope to see some Team Zahhak deaths for sure, and I'm still banking on Team Arslan capturing a mage before this is all over. I imagine the disciples are largely seen as disposable by the Holy Master at this point, but there's no way he would allow himself to be killed or captured so easily, not when he is so close to his goal.

I am worried, though. This is... a lot... for all of Team Arslan to come through unscathed. What a horrible position for them to be in, and even if their instincts tell them that they're not fighting their comrades/relatives, they're surely at a disadvantage due to the shock and emotional turmoil involved. And I'm left wondering, what are Team Zahhak up to? What's the purpose in bringing the dead back like this? Do they wish to kill, torment, or capture other warriors as snake food? Do they simply seek to cause Ecbatana to fall into chaos? Where the heck is Zahhak?

It's going to be a difficult month until the next chapter, lol.

[littlewriterfullofwords]

Only one for me pt. 3

Parring: Hanaoka Y/N x Takajo Tsukasa

Summary: YasuKiyo knows some things they shouldn't

Warnings: she/her pronouns, fluff, mention of fight, wounds and blood

A/N: Hi! I'm back...again. Enjoy my work and let me know what you think😊

Dark eyes scanning your face, gentle touch of a thumb caressing your cheek, causing blush to appear, the smell of his perfume tickling your nose. He was closer with every second. Your lips were about to touch. You were so close to kissing Tsukasa, only the air was between you two....

"Are you listening?" Yasushi's voice kicked you brutally out of your dream world, almost making you jump on your seat.

"Yes." You nodded vigorously, trying to not only convince YasuKiyo but yourself as well.

"Yeah, sure." Murmured Kiyoshi with a smirk. "And your red face says otherwise."

"It's just hot in here." Your answer was given too fast, and was totally out of the frame because everyone in Oya was wearing long sleeved clothes.

"Bullshit." Summarized Yasushi. "We know who you're thinking about."

"You're in love!" Yelled Kiyoshi as he burst laughing.

"No." You opposed.

"You're in love!" Joined Yasushi and now both of them were jumping around you, yelling that you're in love.

"Who's in love?" The crazy mood was interrupted by Fujio and Tsukasa coming into the room you and YasuKiyo have been sitting in.

The only response you could give the guests was more blush on your cheeks and the eyes on the floor.

"Your sister." You were ready to kill Kiyoshi for that, you were even planning his murder in your mind.

"Oooo." Fujio looked surprised but happy at the same time, his eyes were focused on his sister that has been looking away all this time. "With who?"

"No one." You jumped out of the table and headed towards the exit, but before leaving you ruffled Tsukasa's and Fujio's hair with a smile to hide your nervousness. "Bye."

And you left, leaving all four men with confusion in the air.

You walked out of the building and ended up on the patio you really liked, actually it was your favourite spot in the whole Oya, besides the roof.

Your eyes searched the surroundings, and when you saw nothing and no one, you sighed loudly. Your hands immediately touched your red and warm cheeks to cool them a bit. The impact Tsukasa had on you was huge, out of your mind, heart and will. And YasuKiyo noticed that, for your unfortunate.

"Still reacting like a girl in love?" Todoroki's voice made you roll your eyes and turn around to look at him.

"You have a problem with it?" The hidden side of Hanaoka siblings started slowly to show off.

"As long as you won't be walking around, smiling like an idiot with a red tomato face, then no." Yosuke shrugged. "I don't wanna see you drooling over Takajo on my floor."

You gasped offended. It's not like you weren't drooling over Tsukasa, you were, but how the fuck did he know that? Was it that obvious?

"I- I don't know what you are talking about." You huffed trying to hide your nervousness...again.

"Yeah, whatever." Todoroki shrugged and went away, leaving you with your thoughts.

You decided to consider them on your way home, that's why you left the Oya High and headed south.

Feet after feet, step by step, you were walking on the payment, trying to keep your balance on the edge with arms spread to the sides and eyes focused on your shoes. This lil activity made you feel a bit more nostalgic than anything else. You remembered running down the hill with Fujio and his friends. Doing make up with Madoka or watching Arata cook. But when your brother was spending time with the other group, now the Oya students, you preferred sitting on the swings on the playground or drawing in your room. It would be okay to say you had a favourite group.

"Where is the lady going?" The sudden appearance of the voice and three figures in front of you made you lose balance and step on the pavement.

"Alone." Added another man, the one wearing a cap with a dangerous smile.

"Well." You shrugged. "I like walking alone. It's comforting. So if you, gentlemen, excuse me, I'll be walking."

Without anything more, you continued walking, trying to pass the men but one of them grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

"Where do you think you're going?" Asked the man that stopped you the first time.

"Not a gentleman then." You whispered and the fire appeared in your eyes.

You didn't hesitate to throw a punch, you aimed at the nose, neck and the back of the head. Fujio taught you some things, and you were a good student.

"Y/N!" Tsukasa's voice made you look from above the suffering, bleeding and moaning in pain, men and wipe the blood from your lip, you didn't avoid wounds yourself, things like that only happen in books.

"What are you doing here?" You asked a bit confused but embarrassed as well, he's never seen you as messy as you were now.

"It doesn't matter, are you okay?" Blond haired stood in front of you and gently lifted your chin to examine the wounds.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You looked at the group still curled up and in pain. "I think they are not."

"They don't matter now." Tsukasa looked and sounded concerned and scared. "Let's take care of you."

Takajo grabbed your elbow and led you a few steps away from the place of the incident, but suddenly he stopped, turned back and walked slowly to the men. Without a problem, he grabbed one of them by the shirt, brought him closer to his face and whispered in his ear:

"You better don't mess with her. Next time she won't be that generous."

And he left, letting the man fall to the ground with a loud thud.

"Let's go." Again you were grabbed, this time by the wrist, and led towards the place only Tsukasa knew about.

You didn't ask anything, so did he. You were silent, enjoying the companion and rethinking decisions.

"Sit here." Finally the silence was interrupted by Tsukasa pointing the bench. "I'll be back."

You only nodded and obediently sat on the wooden bench by the playground.

Again the nostalgia hit you, you loved this place as a kid, you'd spent hours here by yourself on the swings or with Madoka. You felt the smile coming up to your lips. It hurt a bit, your bottom lip was cut in a few places, but you didn't mind it too much.

"Okay." Tsukasa showed up as quietly as a ghost and sat next to you on the bench. "Show me your wounds."

"Those aren't that serious." You whispered but turned your face his way.

When he touched your face with his cold fingers, the chills ran up your spine, making you shiver a bit.

"The guys out there...." Started Tsukasa as he was cleaning the cuts and bruises under your eyes and on the cheeks. "You gave them a lesson."

"Fujio taught me some tricks, I used them in self-defence." You shrugged with a little smile. "They were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Takajo's smile was saying one thing, "I'm proud of you." So were his eyes, that were scanning your face for injuries.

"Okay, all done." Tsukasa put the last band aid on the wound on your forehead and gently caressed it, slowly moving his hand to the lost strand of your hair that he put behind your ear.

His cold fingers were touching your skin as he was going down your face, finally resting on your cheek, that was still red from the fight but also from his touch.

Your lips trembled, ready to say something but failed. Your eyes locked with Tsukasa's but only for a second because you dropped the gaze.

"Thank you." You whispered with a gentle smile that hid under your hair that fell down.

To show how grateful you were, you touched every and each band aid with fingertips.

"I didn't cover your lip injuries because you wouldn't be able to talk..." Explained briefly Takajo, sitting straight, his side facing yours.

"Don't worry about that. Some for sure would be happy if I were silent." You joked, having Fujio in mind.

Tsukasa chuckled quietly, making you feel those butterflies in your stomach. You loved this sound, it was so calming and gentle. You could listen to it every day.

Suddenly, your phone rang in your pocket so you quickly reached for it and looked at the screen. Fujio.

"Excuse me." You said and picked up. "What's up? Yeah I'm coming. Yeah. See you. I'm sorry."

"Nah, that's okay." Assured you Takajo.

"Fujio called. Said I should be coming home." You explained with a sad smile. "Guess I will be going."

"I'll go with you." Said Tsukasa. "I'm going this way anyway."

Your eyes brighten and widen. Was your life a book? Was it all real?

"Y-yeah, sure. Let's go." You both got up from the bench and headed one way in silence.

Blond haired hid his hands in his pockets, as usual, and started walking by your right side, the side closer to the main road.

You really felt like in a movie.

"It's here." You pointed at the wooden door and smiled. "Thank you for your help with those..."

You again touched your band aids and smiled a bit wider.

"But your lips...." Started Tsukasa but you interrupted him.

"Don't worry about that. You did a lot."

"I hope it helps." After saying that, Tsukasa came closer and left a gentle kiss on your lips.

Butterflies went crazy, breath disappeared but this warm feeling inside took it place. When the blond haired moved away a bit, you looked him in the eyes with this innocent but happy light.

"Take care." Tsukasa ruffled your hair and walked away like nothing had happened.

It took you a moment to properly understand what just happened. After blinking for some time and thinking too much, you turned around and came to your home.

"Hi! Where hav-" Fujio, who came to greet you, stopped in the middle of the way and went silent after seeing you on the floor with back against the door and a big smile on your face. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." You whispered and nodded. "Yeah."

[crimson-calligraphyx]

A/N: there is some relatively descriptive violence at the end of this chapter.

Charles placed me down on his disgusting mattress with an eerie smile, and my skin crawls. My stomach churns as I tried my hardest to suppress the memories of being in this room before, afraid of what could possibly take place now that I'm back once again. It took every ounce of energy to just breathe and not set myself into a full-blown panic. "I'll be right back, dear. Don't you go running off again," he muses with a wink, and exits the room.

As if I could fucking go anywhere with my ankle in this condition.

I sighed, taking a gander around the room knowing that there was no way I could make a break for it. There was a weathered picture sitting on his bedside table; I picked it up to see a family of four huddled by a tree. The man in the picture of course was Charles, though much younger, accompanied by who I assumed were Alice and his children. The kids were smiling brightly, but the look on Alice's face was anything but happy. I nearly dropped the picture when I took a good hard look at her—the resemblance between us was uncanny.

"Do you remember that day, dear?" Charles reenters the room, and I jumped, not expecting his presence so soon. He came in holding two thin planks of wood and some bandages, amongst other small items. "I, uh...y-yes," I continued with my charade, my hands now shaking from apprehension. "It seems like just yesterday." He places the items beside me on the bed before running his hand down my cheek, tipping my face towards him by my chin. "You're just as beautiful now as you were then," he looks at me with his hollow eyes, a sickly-sweet smile on his face before he presses his lips to my forehead. I froze and held my breath, waiting for him to stop touching me.

I let out my breath when he releases his hold on my face and turns his attention to my leg. He picks up a bottle and carelessly pours its contents over my wounds, making me hiss from the burning sensation that it caused. I watched as bubbles formed on my skin, relieved that it was hydrogen peroxide he dumped on me to help aid some of the infection I'm sure I was going to get. I knew it wasn't going to be enough, though, but I'll take what I can get.

I whimpered when he picked up my leg to wrap it, and he shoots me a look as if he was satisfied with the pain that he was inflicting on me. I swallowed harshly, feeling like I would vomit from both the ache and the fact that this sick fuck was clearly getting off to this.

"S-so, where are the children now?" I asked, trying to keep my mind off the trauma in my leg. He sighs deeply, "Oh, they've run off some time ago," he says with melancholy heavy in his tone. "They left shortly after you did, leaving me all alone." I rolled my eyes at his shitty attempt to make me feel sorry for his neurotic ass. "How long have you been searching for me, Charles?"

He puts the pieces of wood on either side of my leg and shifts my ankle into place aggressively, and I holler from the intensity of the pain he caused. He chuckles at my reaction—if I wasn't already so lightheaded from it, I would've slapped the smile right off his face. If this was how he treated his wife, I can see why Alice ran away.

"A few years now, dear," he mutters as he begins to wrap my leg in more bandages, securing the makeshift brace. "I was beginning to think I'd never see you again, but there you were, with him," he spits, pulling hard on the bandages, causing me to whimper once again. "It was the perfect opportunity, really, like killing two birds with one stone. Not only do I get you back, but I get to watch you and your paramour suffer."

I shake my head in disbelief; this man is a monster.

From what I'm able to gather, he abused his wife and maybe even his kids to the point of no return, and she ran off with whoever he thought Noah was to get away. I knew he wasn't taking his antipsychotic medication, which would explain why he thinks he has the right people—but now we're suffering, and most likely going to die because of it.

I was relieved when he brought me back down to the cellar, only to dump me onto the mattress as if to dispose of me. I cried out in pain when my leg bounced off the ground, immediately reaching for it, hoping I could somehow soothe the ache by holding it. Gritting my teeth, I glowered at him as he gave a quick 'hmph' before heading back upstairs, leaving me and Noah like we were junk items that he no longer deemed useful.

"You okay?" Noah asks from across the room, shuffling to his feet. I pursed my lips and shrugged, "As okay as I can be, I guess." "Here," he holds out the unopened bottle of water and sleeve of crackers from earlier. "You need it more than I do." I stared up at him for a moment, taking in the exhausted, yet genuine look in his eye. Even as upset as he had been earlier, he still cared enough to make sure that I was fed. I take them from him with a half-assed smile as he sits on the ground beside me, leaning up against the wall.

I cracked open the water, taking a few sips before handing it back to him, and he gives me a questioning look. "You need it just as much as I do," I tell him, then opened the package of crackers for us to share as well. He bobs his head shallowly with a minuscule grin grazing his lips, popping a cracker in his mouth.

We sat in silence for a while, munching on the crackers and passing the water back and forth. We consumed maybe half of what we had before deciding to conserve it, unsure of when Charles would be back to replenish it.

Eventually I filled Noah in on the picture I had found, the resemblance between me and Alice, how long he's been searching for her, and the kids that we originally knew nothing about. He even agreed that it made sense that Charles thought I was her if he wasn't taking his medication, certainly hallucinating and picturing me as his wife.

We fall silent once more, leaving me to run my fingers through the dirt again. It dawned on me after a while that the hole we had dug wasn't there anymore; Noah filled it in at some point. "Did you manage to pull out whatever was stuck in the ground?" I asked, looking over at him. "Oh, shit, I almost forgot," he says in a lively manner, sitting up straight. "It was the head of a pickaxe. I hid it and buried the hole back up; thought maybe it would come in handy at some point. Maybe try to break through the boards on the window or something." Yeah, or beat Charles over the head with it and run. "Smart thinking," I nodded and chuckled at my morbid thought, and went back to playing with the dirt.

-

I watched my bandages get dirtier and dirtier as the days went by, the blood seeping through turning from crimson to brown as it oxidized. My leg was still excruciatingly sore, and I could feel the warmth radiating through the bandages, surely due to an infection in the wounds. I needed actual medical attention if I wanted my leg to heal, and properly at that.

I was very limited with what I could do while rendered as a sitting duck; Noah and I played tic-tac-toe in the dirt occasionally to keep ourselves occupied. It was silly, but it certainly helped pass the time. I sighed after our current round, stretching my other leg out, which was stiff due to the lack of walking I've been doing.

"Did you ever do this with Leora? Play tic-tac-toe in the dirt, or was it always just picking out worms?" Noah asks, the corner of his lips curling upwards. I brushed our game away and chuckled, "Sometimes, but not very often." I drew another grid, setting up the next game. He puts his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his hands as he stares straight ahead, indicating he was done playing for now. He had a calm semblance to him, the tiny smile still playing on his lips while he sat there content, seemingly lost in thought.

He rolls his head towards me after a moment, his eyes searching mine as I held onto his stare. It was great to see that one of us was healing well—the swelling on his face was mostly gone, leaving only the purple and red hues around his eye, which he was now able to open. I had no idea what was on his mind, and my stomach was starting to fill with nerves from the uncertainty, but I couldn't look away. All I could see were my daughter's eyes; all I could think about was how much I wanted to see them again, and this was the closest I could get to that.

"Can I ask you something?" He finally breaks the silence. My heart jumps into my throat with apprehension; I tried to swallow it back down as I nodded. "Does she ever ask why she doesn't have a dad? Or is she too young to understand that?"

His question hits me like a freight train, leaving me speechless, breathless even. I sit there with my mouth opening and closing, unsure of how to even answer that. Leora has never asked me about the lack of a father; she most likely was too young to understand. Even so, my dad was always around and filled in the role of a father figure for her.

I shook my head. "She, uh...no, she's never asked," I stammered out, dropping my eyes to my hands that were folded in my lap. "She's too young, I think." "Right," he mutters. I could see him from the corner of my eye, bobbing his head up and down slowly while he processed my words. "I'm sure your dad is doing a great job helping out. Your mom, too." I let out a small laugh, "Yeah, they're great. Nick is, too, whenever he visits. She gets so excited to see him." I smile sadly to myself, picturing their last encounter and how elated she was when she swung the door open, running into his awaiting arms. I could hear her giggles clear as day when he gave her all those kisses on her face.

"So...why didn't Nick ever tell me?" Noah asks; there wasn't any accusation in his tone, just genuine curiosity. "I begged him not to," I mumbled, and started to pick at my nails. "Why, Amelia?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but I could still hear the ache in it. I huffed and closed my eyes, shaking my head back and forth. “I-I don’t know,” I whispered.

I don’t know? What kind of reasoning is that?

My chest felt heavy with regret, hating the way the words coming out of my mouth sounded. It was a shitty reasoning, but it was the truth—I really don’t know why I did what I did. Maybe I was afraid of what his reaction would be, or maybe I wanted to prove to myself that I didn’t need him to help raise her since he just up and left so easily. Either way, it was selfish of me. Nick had been right all these years—it wasn’t just hurting me, but it was hurting Noah. And it was going to confuse and maybe even hurt Leora, too.

“Do you think…” He hesitates, clearing his throat. I bring my attention back to him, and I see the timidness in his demeanor. “Do you think I might get the chance to…get to know her some day?” I took a deep breath and held it as his question ricocheted inside my head, my heart beating out of my chest. It was a question that I knew would come, but I wasn’t prepared for it.

We lock eyes again; his are heavy with hope, glimmering under the dull light above us, pleading for an answer. I let out the breath I was holding, nodding shallowly—it was only fair now that he knew about her. "Yeah, o-of course. Whenever we make it out of this mess," I let out a dry laugh. "Cool," he flashes a soft smile, and I couldn't help but mirror it. It was almost relieving to know that he wanted to be involved, or at least try to be, anyway.

Noah stands and makes his way to our closet of a bathroom, returning moments later with the head of the pickaxe. He walks over to the boarded up window, spinning the tool in his hand for a minute or two before clutching it and jamming it between two boards. I watched as he tried to pry them apart, his brows cinched and his jaw tense as he put all his effort into it, only to have it slip from the ruts over and over again.

"I just don't have enough leverage with this thing," he sighs before finally giving up, turning to me. "It's okay, don't put all your energy into it. We'll figure something out," I reassure him, motioning for him to sit back down. He shakes his head in defeat and starts walking around the room aimlessly, tossing the tool back and forth between his hands as he goes. He fumbles with it when the door swings open, Charles making his way into the room.

I tensed as he stalks over to me, that same foreboding smile plastered on his face. "Relax, I'm here to change your bandages, dear," he tells me as he crouches by my leg. He picks it up carelessly, sending a wave of pain through my ankle. "You fucker," I hissed between clenched teeth, glaring at him. "Could you maybe be oh, I don't know, gentle when doing this?" He chuckles with a shake of his head, starting to unravel the old bandages from around my leg. "Now, now, dear. That's no way to speak to someone who's taking care of your injuries," he muses as the pieces of wood fall to the dirt below me.

Tears spring to my eyes when he peels off the inner layer of bandages, getting stuck to the wounds as he went. I bit down on my lip to hold back my whimpers, squeezing my eyes shut and turning away so I didn't have to see the disarray that my leg was in. "Oh, this doesn't look too good, Alice," Charles tsks, "let's hope you don't lose your leg." My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach from the thought of losing my leg due to his negligence. "Are you fucking kidding me, Charles?" I whipped my head in his direction, taking note of the smirk he was brandishing. "Bring me to a hospital, now!" I shout. "Oh, no, no, no. I'm afraid I can't do that, Alice—"

The next thing that I knew, Charles' body was being ripped from me as he bellowed in agony. I gasped and my eyes grew wide from the sight in front of me; it all happened so fast. Noah was now behind Charles, his arm wrapped around his neck as blood poured down his face from the pickaxe that was now lodged in his eye. "This is for the black eyes you gave me, you sick fuck," Noah growls, pulling the tool from his face.

I couldn't move, I was so shell-shocked. I couldn't muster so much as a flinch, even when the blood splattered across my face from the tool being ripped from his skull. He thrusts it back into his eye socket, the harrowing scream escaping Charles chilling me to the bone. The nauseating sound of his flesh being ground together echoed in my head, my stomach now churning and clenching painfully as I released what little contents it held.

I gather myself as Noah throws Charles' now limp body to the dirt, panting as he watched his life wither away. He huffs, bringing his attention back to me, the remaining animosity heavy in his demeanor. I still couldn't move or say anything as my eyes followed a droplet of blood trail down Noah's cheek, and slip off his chin. He wipes his face off with the sleeve of his shirt before extending a trembling, blood-coated hand to me.

"It's time to get out of here and reunite with our daughter," he says with determination, an assuring grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

|Chapter 10|

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Awakened

Hi there! If you're still accepting requests, can I bls get some kick-in-the-balls sobbing-on-the-floor Virgil centric angst bls and thanks? Love all that you do – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: major character death--roman dies but it is only a dream

Pairings: prinxiety, dukexiety, intruprinxiety, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 2277

    "Is it over?" Roman's voice sounded wet.

There was no color in his face anymore, none except the purple bruises under his eyes and the red along his mouth.

How fitting.

Virgil watched Roman collapse to his knees, spent and shaking, making not a sound. A blade glittered in the fiery red sunlight as it exited Roman's back. A final salute to the battle's glorious, gory end.

Virgil made his way towards the fallen hero until he loomed above his crumpled form.

"Yes," he said, "it's over."

"And did—did I—" Roman gurgled through blood-soaked breaths— "hurt you?"

They came strained, shallower.

Kneeling, Virgil focused on Roman's hands, unwrapping his fingers from his grip with deft, firm movements.

With one swift jerk, the blade slid free.

A river of blood followed, a pained gasp the only sound as Roman slumped forward. Virgil reached out and caught him before he hit the ground.

The light in Roman's eyes flickered and dimmed. For a fraction of a second, the two stared at each other—hero and villain, enemies, opposites, rivals—saying with their eyes what they never could with their lips.

Roman hiccupped once, twice. Virgil didn't move, not even as his knees grew damp with the blood pooling beneath them.

And then the light was gone.

"Yes," Virgil said after a while, "you hurt me."

He closed Roman's eyes and glanced at the sun rising higher over the horizon. He stood, staring at the corpse before him.

"More than you'll know."

Distantly, he could hear the sounds of his army. Assessing the wounded, counting the dead, searching for survivors. White flags began to gleam out of the corners of his eyes, the last few executions carried out with brutal efficiency.

No one dared approach him or his withering altar.

Slowly, with all the tenderness he could never have displayed before, he leaned down to take Roman's head in his hands.

"There is something that goes unsaid," he murmured as he brushed a trickle of blood from Roman's mouth, "about stage performers who play the dead."

The corpse in front of him was silent.

"People who play dead just look like they're asleep." He pulled the corpse closer, almost cradling it. "Dead people don't look like people, they look like things."

He bent closer, resting his forehead against cold—too cold—and damp skin.

"I don't want you to be a thing," he whispered, "you weren't supposed to be a thing."

For things could be kept, and while he had desperately wanted to tame the hero, force him to submit, have him yield, he never wanted to keep him. Roman was wild, feral at times, never something that could be caged lest some part of him that made him him would shatter irrevocably.

But the thought of letting someone else try set the skin under his armor boiling.

"Come on, then," he said, hefting the blood-soaked corpse into his arms, "you can't stay here."

The corpse was bulky, unforgiving. Plates of armor dug into Virgil's arms, the blood still leaking from the gaping wounds. The weight shifted unsteadily as he rose to his feet.

"Even in death," he chuckled, if it could be called a chuckle, "you have to be an inconvenience, don't you?"

The corpse's head lolled to the side.

Virgil began to walk, stepping over the remains and passing the results of some grisly duels. He paid no mind to the heat beginning to blister at his back, making his armor scorch. Instead, he focused on the solid weight in his arms and the dull thud, thud, thud, of his footsteps.

He paid no mind to the survivors who stopped to see them pass, a ghastly figure in blood-soaked armor with the corpse of the people's hope cradled in his arms. Their shadow lengthened as they neared the top of the hill, stretching far into the valley below.

"You would have loved the breeze," he whispered to the corpse, "it smells of wildflowers up here."

It didn't. It stunk of shit and blood and death. But it almost did.

A few stray blooms fell under his boots as he trudged onward into the valley.

The sun had yet to peek over the hill as he descended into the hills proper. The shadows fell across the corpse's face, oddly making it look flatter.

Less real.

"Come, now, don't look at me like that."

The corpse didn't move.

"Where's your boldness, hmm?" He ducked under a tree branch. "Didn't you claim to be unafraid of the dark when we were little?"

He blundered on, even as branches began to scratch at his face.

"You kept blowing out the candles. You said we'll never get anywhere in life if we kept being afraid of the dark. You said you'd be all the light we needed."

A deeper shadow passed over the corpse's face.

"How are you going to be light now? You can't even help me get through these trees. You're just lying there, making me carry you. Stop being such—such—"

What else can I be, said the corpse with vacant lips, but dead weight?

"Alright, just this once," Virgil muttered, hefting the corpse into his arms again, "but you can't expect me to just do everything myself."

He staggered up another hill, the sun beating down mercilessly. The weight made him collapse onto his knees, eyes still fixed helplessly on the corpse's face.

"This isn't fair." He squeezed the body. "You're the one who died."

Roman died. He was dead. He was dead.

"How is it that I'm the one hurting? You should be hurting. It's not fair. It's not fair."

He clutched the corpse's shoulders. The head lolled around uselessly, almost mocking him.

"Don't do that. You're not supposed to do that. You weren't supposed to do that."

Roman was dead.

"You were supposed to be the light," he cried out, voice beginning to rise, "how are you supposed to be the light when you're dead?"

The corpse said nothing.

"You can't have dark without light," he tried, fumbling to cradle the limp head in his hands, "see? You—you have to see, I can't—I can't—"

A lump formed in his throat.

"I can't do this alone," he whispered, voice cracking, "I can't—it was supposed to be the two of us."

Light and dark. As it always had been. As it always should be.

As it would never be again.

"Please," he mumbled, the rest of his armor forcing him to keel over, "please, I can't—don't leave me alone."

A lone shadow sat on the hill, a corpse in their lap, the scattered remains of their armor, still covered in blood, all about them. The sun glared down as they bowed their head.

"You were supposed to stop me," he whispered finally, reaching for the sword on his own belt, "but it wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Virgil! Virgil!"

Virgil shoots up in bed, chest burning. What—no—no, no, no—

"Virgil! Breathe, Emo, just breathe, it's okay, you were having a nightmare."

Roman's dead. Roman's dead, he killed Roman—

"In for four, remember? Come on, you can do it, just—oh, fuck, Virgil, calm down."

His armor—he grabs for his chest, his shoulders, anything—only for his fingers to meet soft cotton and buttons. He's not wearing armor. He's wearing pajamas. He's in bed.

"That's it, you're okay…"

It was a dream. It was a dream.

"Hey," the voice says as something soft touches his arm, "hey, Virgil? You with me?"

"Re-Remus?"

"Yeah, little monster, it's me." Remus's face swims into view and he waves, before making a concerned noise and reaching out to wipe Virgil's cheeks. "Hey, hey, it's okay. You're safe, you're okay."

"I…why are you here?"

"I felt you having a nightmare, little monster, so I came to help."

"O-oh." He sniffles. "Uh, sorry if I woke you up. Shit, um—"

"Hey. Don't do that. It's okay, you're okay, it's—you wanna hug?"

"Please."

So Remus opens his arms and tucks him into an embrace and oh, where the fuck has this been all his life? Remus is soft and warm and smells kind of like the pond where he keeps his Kraken and it doesn't smell like death at all and shit, he's crying again.

"Shh, shh," Remus hums, rubbing his back, "you're okay, little monster, you're okay. I'm right here. It was just a nightmare. It's over now. You're safe, you're right here with me, I've got you."

Virgil sags into Remus and just cries. His chest still aches from breathing so hard and from the fear at waking up, thinking he'd murdered Roman. It's gross and messed up and why the fuck did he do that? He's—he's not mad at Roman, is he? He doesn't want Roman dead! He doesn't want any of that and he—he killed Roman and then he—he was going to—

"Stay with me," comes Remus's voice, "no drifting off again."

"So—" he hiccups— "sorry."

"It's okay, little monster. You cried out most of it?"

"Mhm." He leans back and Remus hands him a tissue. "Thanks."

"Sure. You, uh, you wanna talk about it?"

"…promise you won't get mad?"

"I'll tickle you if you start feeling bad about what your brain does when you can't control it," Remus threatens, "don't try me."

"Okay, okay, I just…" He blows his nose with a desolate honk. "I don't know why I had it."

"Most nightmares do that."

"I…it was…medieval times or something? Armor and sword fight times."

"Mhm. I got it."

"…I, um, I think—I was the bad guy."

Remus doesn't say anything, but he shifts close enough to cuddle one of Virgil's arms.

"And…Roman was the hero."

"Roro being mean to you again?"

"No!" Remus startles at the force of the shout. "No, no, he's—he's great, he didn't do anything, don't be mad at him, I promise, I—"

"Okay, okay, shh, I won't. Calm down, little monster, shh…"

He takes a few deep breaths. "Sorry."

"You're fine. I shouldn't have assumed." Remus gives him another tissue. "You wanna tell me more?"

No. No, he doesn't. What if Remus gets mad? What if he decides Virgil's awful? What if he—

Wriggling fingers poke his side and Virgil yelps.

"No spiraling," Remus scolds gently, wrapping him in another cuddle, "just talk to me if you want to."

Virgil sniffles. "I…we fought."

"Okay?"

"It was bad."

"I'm sorry, little monster."

"I…"

Remus is quiet, letting him finish. Virgil turns his head into the crook of Remus's shoulder and—and—

"I killed him," he whispers, "I killed him."

"Oh, Virgil…"

He's crying again. Remus hauls him up and nuzzles into his neck, making soft shushing noises and rubbing his back again.

"Shh, little monster, it's okay. Roro's okay. You didn't hurt anybody, everyone's okay."

"I know that, I just…"

"I know, I know." They sit there for a moment longer before Remus nudges him. "You wanna see Roman?"

"…isn't he asleep?"

Isn't he dead. lying on a hill, covered in his own blood?

"That's enough out of you," Remus growls against his temple before softening his voice, "that's not what I asked, little monster, do you wanna see him? I don't think he'd mind."

He does. He wants to know Roman's okay. He wants the feeling of carrying Roman's corpse in his arms to go away.

Remus reaches out and summons Roman.

"This better be good, Re, you woke me up for—"

The instant Roman sees Virgil in Remus's arms, still tear-stained and so, so small, he melts.

"Hey," he coos, coming over to the bed and taking Virgil's face in his hands, "hey, little storm cloud, what's wrong?"

Roman's thumbs brush his cheeks and he's so real, he's so warm, he's so alive that Virgil throws himself at him.

"Oof, hey, there, shadowling, you're okay, you got me, see? You're alright, shh, shh, it's okay. You're safe, shadowling, it's okay."

Roman is big and warm and safe and he can hear his heart thudding under his cheek and he's fine, he's safe, he's alive, he's alright. Remus must tell him what's going on because Roman lets out a noise of dismay, quickly shifting his grip until he's cuddling Virgil right up against his chest.

"Hey, baby, it's okay, I'm okay. I'm okay, see? You got me, I'm right here, I'm all good." He grins, big and goofy, right in Virgil's face and kisses his forehead. "I'm okay. It's all okay."

He keeps murmuring and crooning reassurances, kissing Virgil's cheeks and his nose and the top of his head. Remus cuddles up to his back, wrapping his arms around the both of them.

"R'man?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"You…good?"

"Yeah, shadowling, I'm all good. We're all safe."

"'M sorry, I—ah!"

"Remus," Roman scolds, pulling Virgil away from the fingers tickling across his sides, "not now!"

"Told him I'd tickle him if he started feeling bad about his brain doing things he couldn't control."

"Ah. I see. Well…"

"No," Virgil whines, "no tickles…"

"Then I guess you need to stop feeling bad about it," he teases gently, "it's okay, baby. You're okay."

Remus huffs but lets him be, carefully reminding them that they should sleep.

"Do you want us to stay?"

"Will you?"

"Of course, shadowling. Come on, let's lie down and go back to sleep, hm?"

Virgil doesn't let Roman out of his grasp for more than a moment, latching on again as soon as they're all under the covers. Roman just chuckles and pulls him close.

"You go on back to sleep, shadowling. I'm right here."

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[buggstuff]

CodyWan Week day 5!!

I experienced some writers block, and decided it would be better for me to do this from a different perspective, so I just kinda came up with someone to do that with.

@codywanweek

CodyWan Week day 5! Prompts: Sith AU/Established Relationship/Battle Couple

Work Text:

"CLEAR OUT!" RK-2387, Reck, heard their Commander call out. "OUT OF THE WAY, MOVE, MOVE!" Reck stumbled to his feet, wincing at the wound in his thigh. He followed his fellow troopers as they run, clearing the area for the Emperor's righthand-man and his husband's shuttle to land. Thank the maker, they were getting awfully close to losing this battle.

Reck watches as Lord Eirie and his husband exit the shuttle, weapons in hand, black uniforms matching. Eirie, formerly known as the Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, ignites his blade, and it glows the blood-red Reck had seen many times before. Stormtroopers had replaced Clone troopers the moment the Empire took over and the Clones started dying. Few remained, mostly just old ones living on the streets. However, Lord Eirie's husband was a clone. One that had been modified differently, his ageing had stopped some time ago, and he and Eirie grew at the same rate now, at the same age.

They really were made for each other, it seemed. The way Eirie took the offence, Cody taking defence and protecting his Lord from behind or from things he may have not seen, which was rare to happen. They moved in perfect sync, so incredibly well, it was almost- No, it was terrifying. Before Reck knew it, they already took out the entire lot of rebels, assessing the situation and scene.

Reck watched while removing the armour on his left thigh, wrapping a stray piece of cloth around a wound. The couple talked to each other quietly, seeming to have a laugh about something. Reck froze as Eirie's yellow, burning eyes landed on him. He stayed frozen as he was exposed, helmet off to tend his wound.

His body shook with fear as the Sith approached him, taking a good look at him.

"Did someone give you the word to remove your helmet?" Eirie finally asks, and Reck swallowed hard.

"No, sir," He makes no move.

"Well, tend to your wound quickly. We wouldn't want someone less apologetic to see you with no helmet on," The Sith finishes, almost.. a fatherly tone in his voice?

"Yes, sir!" Reck responds, tightening the cloth around his thigh before putting his helmet on, beginning to stand. He stops as a gloved hand reaches in front of him. He looks up and softly takes it as General Cody helps him up.

"Would you like help walking, Reck?" Cody asks, amber eyes looking forward where Eirie stands.

"If you don't mind, sir," Reck says carefully. He liked serving under them, despite being as evil as everyone knew the Empire was, Cody and Obi-Wan were once in the same war longer than most Stormtroopers had been. They were the only two other than the Emperor himself who respected troopers choosing names for themselves. Hell, Cody was a chosen name too.

"Alright, Reck, I'll get you to a medbay quickly," Cody says, their arms going over the other's shoulders, the General helping Reck walk to their private shuttle.

"Thank you, sir," Reck breathes out, thankful for the help. While it was very easy to replace troopers, in this case, Reck had been loyal and serving for 19 years now, as long as the Empire had been around. And they weren't just gonna replace him like that.

"You're welcome," Cody says, helping Reck sit in one of the shuttle chairs.

Sith or not, Reck had to admit.. If anyone in the Empire was nice, it was them. Evil, but caring. Deadly, but kind.

Of course those acts were unforgivable, but neither took pride in it. To them it was simply.. ruling.

Reck appreciated it, respected them a little more.

I mean, more than he already had. They were the galaxy's most powerful battle couple ever. You had to give them some respect.

[lover-girl-estxx]

Promise?.

Crush¡Joel Miller x Crush¡Reader¡Chubby

(have crushes one each other)

Angst I guess +Fluff

Age gap (28 and 56) TLOU STUFF.

I sat in the back of Frank and Bill's truck while Joel drove "I don't know it's only my second day in a car man" Ellie said "Y/n find off where we are" Joel said "last time I was in a car I was 8 I don't know-" "help! HELP ME!" A guy came out covered in blood limping "hold on" he said "are we going to help him?" Ellie asked "no!". "JOEL!!" I yelled when a cinder block fell on the truck shots firing at us.

"can y'all fit through there?" Joel said bullets flying over us "yeah but wh-" Ellie was cut off by Joel "I won't let them I promise, they're not going to hit you" "okay.." " I'll tell you when" she nodded "okay...go," she ran making it in the room "are you ready?" He looked at me "no I don't know if I'll fit" "you'll fit honey, I'll watch you. Okay?" "Um yeah okay.. "you trust me?" "Yeah" "I promise" I ran across the garage, going into the hole in the wall head first getting the worst pain of my life in my thigh before I had it in. I made it to the corner, my hand going over my upper thigh red coming through my fingers "oh my god y/n" Ellie whispered coming over to me "don't worry about me check on Joel". I pulled my pants down a bit to help the bleeding but it didn't, Ellie left and then I heard a gun shot. Then she opened the door for him.

"shit Y/n," he said getting down next to me he lifted my leg a bit "you don't end an exit wound...listen" he laid me back moving some hair out of my face "I have to get the bullet out, it's gonna hurt" "Joel then what I'-l-ill slow you down, you can't left me y'all need to go" "y/n I'm not leaving you here to bleed out so..put your jacket in your mouth for you to scream into" he put pressure on my thigh, Ellie coming to my side rubbing my shoulder, he ding his fingers into my leg blood going everywhere. I grabbed his wrist as hard as I could "I know I know honey" he pulled out the bullet with more blood going everywhere "Ellie grab the stapler now!" He said putting pressure on my thigh "just a little bit more pain okay?" He wiped some tears going down my face, I nodded. He wrapped my leg then picked me up as Ellie opened the door and he sat me behind a car while he checked the building next door.

"you're just a kid" she shrugged, I pushed myself up against the wall next to Joel "can you make it there you look like shit" "thanks Ellie " I replied "eat build your strength" Joel handed me a pack. "You help her go as fast as you can" Joel told Ellie, Ellie nodded.

Joel pushed Ellie up in the window for her to open the door "Joel?" I leaned on the wall and said quietly "yeah?" He came right next to me with his hand on my hip "I think I popped my stapler...I-i think I might pass out" I laid my head on his shoulder he picked me "Joel I'm to heav-" I faded into black.

I sat up slowly, looking to my right Joel was sitting up his head asleep on his hand. I pushed the blanket off me to look at my leg which looks like Joel fixed up. I went to get up to get some food from my pack, I sucked in a heavy breath "lay back" Joel pushed me down "I need water" I said in a whisper "I'll get it" he handed it to me "thank you," he nodded "for everything I wouldn't have made it this far" "yes you-" "no I wouldn't" he laid down on the floor. "Joel?" "Mmm" "lay with me?.. not on the floor. On the cushions" he sighed laying next to me, wrapping his arm around me. I rubbed his cheek and neck "I think I may be in love with you.." I said looking up at him, he came down kissing me softly "that came out of nowhere but I love you too" I smiled.

[cybernecromancer365]

A/O Hospital Headcanon--Part 2

Part 1 here

A.N. A little more to add. Another quick write, not edited.

(Nurse walks in on Alex and Olivia hugging. Alex is sitting on the bed with Olivia practically in her arms)

"Doing good detective?" The nurse picked up the chart at the foot of the bed and jotted down hourly vital readings as Alex and Olivia split. "Yeah, thanks." Olivia answered. Nurse looked to Alex. "I just need a signature on some papers. Are you her next of kin?”

Alex and Olivia's eyes widened. They stayed quiet, until Olivia turned to Alex with a smirk. "What's taking you so long to answer?" Alex glanced to her and stumbled. "W-We're...fri-Coworkers. We're coworkers." The nurse looked between them blankly. "Oh, wow...the whole staff thought you were her spouse." A tight smile stretched across Alex's face. She hung her head and put a hand over her eyes to hide the warmth creeping to her cheeks, and Olivia's hand on her thigh didn't help. Reassuring or not, Olivia's squeeze only made her heart thump faster. "Well then, we'll need to talk to whoever she's going home with." The nurse turned to Olivia whose smile weakened as the moment passed. "Is there anyone you want to request detective?" "I'm good." With a scoff Alex stood, taking the clipboard from the nurse to both women's surprise. "Where do I need to sign—" "Alex it's fine—" "Don't listen to her. She's delusional if she thinks she'll be walking out of here on her own in a few days." Alex kept her eyes on the paper, scanning the legal agreements, then signing where the nurse pointed. The nurse looked to the detective. "She is right." "Of course I am." Alex scribbled her signature.  "Due to her obvious lack of judgment…" Olivia scoffed under her breath and looked away. "…I am acting within the scope of the law by making the decision for her." Alex handed back the clipboard and the nurse looked to the frowning detective with a soft smile.

"See you in an hour detective." Olivia didn't acknowledge the nurse as she left but Alex exited the room and caught up to her. "Excuse me." Alex called, stopping the woman in the hall. "Yes." "Do you know exactly when she'll be released?" "We have her on track for the end of next week. Provided her pain is in a manageable state without the morphine. But her wounds will still need to be re-dressed every 4 hours."  Alex nodded. "Thank you." Alex headed back into the room; Olivia's eyes closed as the detective rested with slow easy breaths. "Hey." She tried to rouse her with a soft tone. If Olivia didn't respond she'd try again tomorrow. The detective’s eyes cracked open and Alex slipped her fingers gingerly under Olivia's good hand, loosely entwining a couple of their fingers. Hopefully Olivia wouldn't remember this in the morning. "So...How would you like to come home with me? Not that you have much of a choice." "Asking a little after the fact, huh?" Olivia closed her eyes and barely smiled. "You didn't have to." "I'd rather get you out of here before this place takes away that wonderful sense of humor you seem to have adopted." "Maybe they shocked me too much when they brought me back, rewired some areas of my brain." Alex had to chuckle. "Or...it's constant drip of morphine." "I would’ve been fine Alex." "You were shot 3 times. You're not fine." Alex looked at the morphine drip. It was only a matter of time before Olivia had to deal with the pain. "Having an extra set of eyes on you is a good thing." Olivia chuckled gently at that. "Piercing blue eyes watching my every move, how comforting. "

"Is that your way of complimenting me?" Olivia gruffed. "Compliment accepted, detective." The room quieted as the look on Olivia’s face turned stern. Olivia didn’t walk around with her nose stuck in the air, but she was a proud person, and one who’d now come to terms with her loss of freedom. "It's not easy to take care of me Alex." "I don't plan on it being easy." Alex paused. "You're stubborn, sometimes grouchy--" "I'm grouchy--" "And I can only imagine you're worse when you're in pain." A tired smile stretched across Olivia face as much as she let it. "I'll see you tomorrow." Alex leaned in, placing a hand on Olivia's shoulder, wanting to kiss Olivia on the head but shutting down those thoughts when she realized what she was thinking. "Get some rest."

[dykefever]

11. with remus n james 💕

we're on a teaching things as a love language moment <33

11. and no one can ever figure out what you want and you won't tell them.

"No, no," James groans, laughter spilling out across his tone like loose marbles, "that's not how you do that - Remus!"

"What?" Remus shouts, cheeks flushed and tongue caught between his teeth. "I'm following you."

Thursday afternoon: Gryffindor sixth year boys dormitory. An afternoon spiked with sunlight through sifting grey clouds. Peter: at chess club; Sirius: off in detention for a prank they all partook but only he was caught for. Sweet, sweet justice. James holds Remus, palm cupped at his narrow waist, the other scooping his hand, trying to waltz him around the debris of their dorm room, the teenage boy detritus - odd socks, crooked-cover textbooks, and crumpled school shirts.

"You're meant to follow my right foot with your left - step back - yes," James directs.

"That makes no sense," Remus mutters.

"I'm teaching you to dance."

"I think you're doing it wrong."

"I think that prefect stick up your arse is making you grumpy," counters James and watches as Remus sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and chews, ravaging the skin like he always does, till it’s pulpy and James is cracking his jaw to close it.

Remus narrows his eyes, tilting his chin to emphasise the half inch of height he has on him. "No, that's the two hours of sleep I got last night because I woke up at four am to your round of quidditch strength training exercises."

James tightens his hold on the small of Remus's back and sweeps them in a half circle, pressing their lower stomachs together. He ignores Remus's stumbling feet, strokes his thumb over the poky bone at the base of Remus's hand. "What were you doing awake at two in the morning, Moony?"

Remus - he, well - he blushes. His ears spit pink and his cheeks go honeycrisp-apple-red. James laughs, their faces so close he can taste the cinnamon tea on Remus's exhale.

"Moony," he murmurs, low, hot.

Remus huffs, rolling his eyes, not looking at James as he answers, "Don't you ever- haven't you - you know, stayed up because..."

James slows their clumsy waltzing. The sun sifts through the open window between their beds and catches on the downy curls by Remus's ear. He shuffles closer, feet bracketing Remus's. His heart cracks his ribcage with its beating. He wants Remus to crawl inside, almost lets him go just to pop the buttons on his shirt, just to claw at his skin and show the cavern Remus has scooped out inside James without even knowing.

He nudges Remus's ducked chin with his nose. "Yes. Didn't think you'd admit it though."

Remus rolls his eyes, again. "Shut up."

James says, "Make me."

Remus looks at him, gaze flicking between James's eyes and his mouth. He hums. Just this tiny flicker of sound right at the back of his throat. James swallows. Remus slides his palm over James's shoulder, hooks his gnarled root fingers into his collar and pulls. His tongue flicks over his bottom lip and James is made of wanting.

And then, Remus blinks twice. Like he's just woken up. Like he's caught himself on a cliff face. His shoulders jerk up and he wrenches out of James's grip, running a hand through his hair.

"Sorry," he mutters, halfway across the room and staring at the ground, not James.

"Remus," James says, "wait- what are you -"

"I've got to - um - leave. I think, I think I have a prefect. Thing," he stammers, glancing between James and the floor. "Sorry," he sighs, closing his eyes briefly.

He exits the room in his bare feet and untucked shirt. It hits James's chest like a wound. He slumps on his bed and puts his head in his hands.

He waits for Remus to come back.

[anukulee]

I Want Him (Loki One Shot)

                       Credit for the image above goes to Nanihoo

A/N: POV you want Loki || Loki x y/n is what got me to write this plus this picture, and what Magery confessed to Joffey to get him to marry him from GOT (Game of Thrones)  inspired a line, which is how all of them came to be. Now before we go on, I will warn you that this is yet again another long ride, so with that in mind you may want to strip in. Now with that in mind enjoy the ride.

Anne Williams was a young goddess who no longer held the power she once had. Despite the fact she was only a 60 years younger then Loki she was formally the sole heir and queen of the kingdom of Magnolia. A kingdom full of intellgient and bright people for while Asgard was known for training some of the best warriors in all the nine realms including the warriors three. Magnolia was known for training some of the greatest minds in all of the realms. They were a kingdom who planned everything out including their alliances. Through their minds were great their warriors couldn't compare to the strength of Asgard. Yet rather Anne being in her own kingdom preparing the final details to become ruler instead she was instead in the last place that she desired to be. For Anne never liked making trips to Asgard especially if that meant Odin was involved. Anne had met Odin many times whether it be through events or when she had studied under Frigga in preperation to become a skilled sedier user to obtain the throne. Yet here she was in the last place she ever wanted to be as....

Anne let out a loud sigh of frustration as upon exiting Odin's war chamber and making her way away from it. She was growing tired of these so called negoations which were mainly Odin trying to ensure he got the best out of Magnolia's ruins and ensuring that he would control her kingdom. Something that Anne refused as heir to the throne through by the looks of it their might not be much of a throne for her to gain. As with each word that came out of Odin's mouth made Anne want to fist him, despite him being the all father of the nine realms. As more often then not Anne would find her finger being gribbed tightly around her fist, the anger being used either on a training dummy, or in a nearby area with little to no people. As Anne was reminded she had likes it so much when Loki was there during negoations. The moment that Anne thought of Loki a smile spread across her lips as she was reminded of the young prince and their shared history.

Centuries Ago

Anne was 750 years old, or 15 years in Midgard, and in that time she had never been one for grand events prefering to lurk in corners and observe rather then dance. Despite Edgar instance, as he would often appear by her side at random moments. Either to demand something or in attempt to scare her, despite Edgar being far older then Anne this never changed. In fact up until then Anne had been minding her own busniess watching nobody in particular when she felt someone touch her shoulder. "Hello." The voice greeting her sounded almost as deep as a frost giant.

Upon hearing it Anne allowed her eyes to roll, as she looked to see her Edgar smiling in her direction. "What do you want?"

At this Edgar put his hands to his heart. "You wound me every day dear sister."

"Sure, now again what do you want?"

"Do I have to want something to see you?"

"Knowing you yes now answer or shall I call someone else to keep you company? Perhaps one of your many admirers?" Anne's arms were crossed, yet a hint of mischief lied in her eyes.

"You wouldn't."

"But I would dear brother unless you tell me why you are here."

"Fine, but just know you don't play fair."

"You speak as if you are any different dear brother."

"Fine, I will make this quick then."

"Aww how sad for me." Upon saying this Anne let out a fake frowny fake in her brother's direction that did little to amuse him.

"Very funny."

"Why thank you."

"I would suggest you at least try to attempt to mingle with some suitors."

"And why would I do that dear brother?"

"Because if you were to become ruler of our fair kingdom you must have a suitor one day."

"What so he can fill be up with babies once we wed?"

"That is the idea."

"Seriously?"

"You act as if I like it any more then you do."

"Yes, but at least you have some sort of choice in the matter."

"So do you."

"Unless some high nobel tries to stick me with their son."

"Well then I would suggest you find someone before they can."

"Here I thought at least 50 more years until I have to do this shit."

"Now, now young lady a princess shouldn't speak in such a manner," Edgar teased, something he often did.

"Oh last I checked the people you seem to keep company with are no different."

"I don't know what you are talking about dear sister."

"Please we both know that you aren't holed up in your room every night."

"You have no proof."

"I have seen you at taverns when you think nobody is watching. So you really should be more careful dear brother."

"What do you watch me?"

"Yes, I am so obbessed with you, that I watch you every night, and the very thought of you gets me off so hard," Anne deadpanned with no real meaning behind those words.

"Seriously must you?"

"Always and why are you not speaking with Thomas of such matters?"

"I am afraid our brother is nowhere in sight so I thought..."

"Why not bother me?"

"Excatly."

"Seriously do you have nothing better to do?"

"Perhaps not aside from asking you where you learned of such matters?"

"What matters?"

"You know those matters you were speaking of."

"You mean se," Anne could barely get out before her mouth was covered.

"Yes, let the whole place hear." At this Anne let out a smile about to say something when a glare from Edgar shut her up. "Now I will ask again where did you learn such talk as that?"

Anne was saying something until she was muffered as she glanced at Edgar before pointing to his hand. As Edgar took his hand off his sister's mouth.

"Books of course."

"And father allows such books?"

"No, but some maids may need to find better hiding places." At this Anne let out a wiggle of her eyebrows.

 "Curious as ever I see."

"When am I not?"

"Then perhaps you would do better company with the prince," Edgar pointed.

"Which prince?"

"Of Asgard you know the kingdom whose event we are attending."

"You don't mean that one, do you?"

"Perhaps I do." At this Edgar let out a wiggle of his own eyebrows. Likely thinking she meant Loki when truly she meant Loki this was what prompted Anne next response.

"Say one more word, and rest assured I will call your fans over here."

"You wouldn't."

"I would if you keep speaking of such matters."

"What do you have such a problem with the prince?"

"He's just not the prince I want."

"Am I really so bad," a voice interjected as once Anne turned she saw that a handsome young man, likely only 50 to 100 years older then her, with jet black and slicked hair, green eyes with mixes of ocean blue, with a mischivous look and smile crossing his face, and wearing a suit as black as night.

"Prince Loki," Edgar said with a bow which Anne soon followed with a curtsy. Through he did sneak a quick look at Anne, he seemed to keep his face professional with his next words. "To what do we own this great honor?"

"I was going to ask your sister of something. But it seems she would rather not prefer my company."

"That is not true your highness. You must've misheard?"

"Me mishear?"

"Yes, for my sweet sister has only been singing your praises."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, isn't that right sister?" At this Edgar directed a look towards Anne that read don't say anything or so help me. Despite Anne wanting to make clear she hadn't meant him.

While Anne hadn't experienced love, she recalled something she had read in a book and thought it might be useful as she let lose a bit of lies. In order to clear up this simple misunderstanding. "Yes, it is true my prince, for you are already starting to take root in my thoughts and I fear for what might happen if it shall get further."

"Then if that is true then you wouldn't mind me asking for a dance?" Loki offered his hand out and before Anne could speak yet again her brother did for her.

"She would love to." As Anne felt a push forward as she took Loki's hand, and allowed him to lead her towards a more closed off area much to Anne surprise their hands were apart from one another and the two were in silence.

"Do you plan to have your way with me here," she teased.

At this Loki shot a brief confused look on her statement. "What do you mean by that?"

"Just what I said."

This seemed to hit a particular spot in Loki as the next words he said weren't so gentle. "You think I would take someone much less a maiden here of all places, rather then my chamber?"

Great not even five minutes alone and I've already offended Asgadian royality. How Edgar would kill me if he saw this she thought as she tried to come up with a solution. "No, I was just merely trying to make conversation my prince," Anne exclaimed nervously trying to clear up the current misunderstanding before it devolped further.

"So dicussion of my private life was the best way to do so?"

"It was the first thing I thought of."

"Was it," Loki asked yet instead of being angry like Anne thought he would be he let out a light chuckle. "My my you must be the first royal maiden I've hear express such things," he exclaimed before disolving into another laugh.

"Surely you jest."

"But I do not."

"Here I thought someone like you would hear thoughts all the time."

"Oh you think so?"

"You are a royal prince after all?"

"And you must be a royal maiden if you are here."

"I am."

"Yet despite that you seem to have a distaste for me."

"I never said that."

"Oh had your brother not covered for you, I am sure you would've said something."

"Whose to say I meant you?"

"Who else would you mean?"

"Perhaps I might your older brother?"

"Thor?"

"Who else?"

"Why would you mean Thor? Surely you think he would be far more suited then the likes of me."

"Why not you?"

"I am the second born, only to rule if my brother is unable."

"Yet you seem far wiser then him."

"How would you know such things?"

"I hear things my prince about both of you."

"You do?"

"Yes, I've heard tales of your wisdom both on and off the battle field."

"Have you?"

"Yes, I've also hear tales of Prince Thor while brave is said to be quite reckless with damage."

"Yes, my brother has that habit."

"So I've heard."

"Speak of which about your brother is he to take over the duties?"

"What do you have a problem with a woman taking over the duties?"

"Never it's just with most nobles and royals it is the males or first borns who rule."

"Not where I come from."

"Oh, I've only heard of one place where that is true."

"You have?"

"By any chance are you from the kingdom of Magnolia?"

"Why yes I am."

"I see. So I expect that the competion might take place soon," Loki said refering to a tradition that was only present in Magnolia. For in the kingdom of Magnolia once all children were of the age of 850, they would hold a competition where the two would battle to see who would take the throne. It had little to no rules aside from all particpants must be alive by the remainder or close enough to live.

"Yes, through my younger brother still has sometime left until he is of age."

"I see so how would you plan to win?"

"If I could I would use seider."

"And why can't you?"

"I'm afraid that their aren't that many in Magnolia who might teach me quick enough."

"Perhaps I could do so."

"Oh would you?"

"You did say I know seider."

"Yes, but..."

"But what am I not fit enough to teach?"

"No, it's just that I wouldn't think you would want someone like me."

"And why is that?"

"I am not as innocent nor peaceful as the ladies of the courts."

"Who said I liked that? Maybe I think feisty woman who test me."

"You surely don't mean that."

"Do I," Loki asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows which sent Anne into a fit of laughters. As Loki wore a confused look on his face. "Have I done something wrong?"

"No it's just you remind me of my brother when you did that."

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"Well I am sorry for that."

"No, it's just honestly I wasn't expecting that from you."

"Well I am full of surprises after all given the god that I am."

"Mischief right?"

"Yes and you?"

"Odin hasn't named me one yet."

"Oh here I thought a maiden as clear as you might already have a title."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"I see."

At this the two drifted into silence for a few moments not sure what else to say or even if they should talk about what went on. Through it seemed Loki was wanting more as he had more to say. "May I ask something?"

"Anything my prince."

"First of all call me Loki, for I am not your prince."

"Your father is the ruler of the nine realms so you are everyone's prince."

"Yes, but you are royality are you not?"

"Yes but..," Anne tried to interject before Loki put a finger to his lips.

"But nothing call me by Loki."

"If that is what you wish m-Loki."

"Good now may I ask my question."

"Yes."

"Why was someone such as you standing alone?"

"I have never been one for scenes such as this."

"Oh have you?"

"No, for I prefer to observe."

"Do you?"

"Yes, after all it will be good training for a ruler. To be able observe the people around them, and understand what they might be faced with."

"I see, then we have something in common."

"You don't prefer crowds either?"

"No, why do you think I took you away from them," Loki asked with a pause. Anne was just about to answer when Loki finished what he was saying. "And don't even think about saying it."

"Who said I was going to say it?"

"You did the first time."

"Doesn't mean I would again."

"Wouldn't you," Loki asked with a hint of his brow.

"Whose to say?"

"Seriously?"

"Always."

"Well then I suppose I should show you what I was going to do. Before you get any other ideas."

"Oh and what would that be again?"

"You forgot?"

"Perhaps I have, mind showing me what you mean," Anne found herself saying.

"As you wish," Loki said with a bow, as he held his hand out towards Anne as she willing took it this time. Rather then be forced even through in truth she wouldn't have minded doing so.

"There was no need to bow to me," Anne said as she placed her hand on Loki's shoulder, while he wrapped his own hand around his waist.

"Wasn't there?"

"You are a prince."

"And you a princess if I recall."

"How would you know?"

"Because in the kingdom of Magnolia there is only one noble family with three children and that is the royal family."

"I see still you shouldn't bow to me."

"Why wouldn't I bow to my queen?"

"Your queen?"

"Yes either you win or you marry me."

"Surely you jest."

"Whose to say through my offer still stands."

"You would really take me on?"

"I would for I see no downsides if I do with such company as you."

"Surely you joke, you must have far prettier maidens after you then me."

"What if all I want was you," Loki asked a statement he meant as true not that Anne knew that at the time.

"You must be joking once more."

"Maybe I am maybe I am not. You will just have to find out," Loki responded seeing it as the best and only option at the time.

"I suppose I will."

"So dance with me?"

"Aren't we already?"

"If we can move that is."

"Then why don't we?"

"As you wish," is all Loki said before he and Anne began to dance. Through bickering was exchanged the two never talked about the tension that was clearly lurking between them. Even when Anne was returned to her brother for to them it was far to soon, not to mention Anne thought Loki was joking little did she know he wasn't.

Present

As Anne thought back to their first meeting she was cheered up more. For the first meeting had honestly been one of the better things to happen in her life and because of the Magnolia kingdom that she would once rule. As she was reminded of the years leading up until the competion where she would split time between Asgard and Magnolia. In that time she would be taught by both Frigga and Loki. Both families through mostly Odin saw it mutual benfinical given their alliance. Even going so war as to giving both Anne and Edgar titles, Anne as goddess of wisdom and stubborness and Edgar of war.

Through despite the training Anne had barely scrapped her win by the skins of her teeth against her oldest brother Edgar merely 90 years previously. The years afterwards would be spent would be spent further educationing her on her new duties. Through Anne only got 85 years of doing so for something happened all due to her brother. For nobody had care to tell her that if either her or parents were away that  one of her brothers would take over should their parents go anywhere. While Edgar was wise much like Anne herself, her second brother Thomas wasn't. He had been banned from the competation due to his recklessness likely to bring the kingdom to ruin. Yet while Anne was off with her studies and Edgar was on a trip with their father. It had been Thomas who was left in charge of the kingdom, sadly this meant before Anne could finish her studies both her and Edgar were made to return to the kingdom. Yet rather it being the bright and prosperous kingdom that rivaled Asgard, instead it was left in ruins. People were rebelling against the Asgardians sent and other things were starting to arise. Thus forcing both Anne and Edgar to begin cleaning up their brother's mistakes and why Anne had been locked in negoations with Asgard despite her distaste for it's king. Something she got little enjoyment out of aside from being near Loki.

For as the years turned into decades, and into centuries, Anne had found herself becoming more and more fond of the younger prince. When they weren't busy with training the two were often seeing together whether it be bickering or just enjoying the other company. Yet they never talked about it nor the comments Loki was always making, comments that Anne were merely taking as him being kind rather then of serious matters. As the two balanced at the edge of a courtship but never quite to it leading them where they were today as Anne was interupted by Loki....

"Rough day," he asked in his usual husky tone?

"Isn't it always?"

"You know, I hate watching you like this."

"I know it's just," Anne started but didn't want to speak bad of Odin especially towards Loki.

"My father I know how it is."

"Yes, through I am glad you are here."

"Are you?"

"Yes, I am not sure what I would do without you?"

"You aren't?"

"Of course not."

"Even if I am a trickester god?"

"Even if," Anne said with a smile.

"So are we going to get back to it," he asked offering his arm.

"Must we?"

"I am afraid you must."

"Then I suppose I shall go."

"I know you don't want this."

"Yes, but do I have much of a choice."

"I wish you did," Loki said with a sad look.

"So did I," Anne remarked before the two made their back into Odin's war chambers. All during reminding herself whatever Loki was saying it was just a game or was it? Through she could've sworn she saw something in him. Throught she put off the moment she and Loki re-entered Odin's chambers.

As yet again negotations began, even worse then the last time. Odin offered nothing to them if Anne even considered his offer. And demeaning Loki at every turn something Anne was growing tired of as she was reminding herself one thing at a time. Through with the way things were going it wasn't likely as yet again Odin offered something clearly in his favor.

"No," she cried.

"Sister can't you think about it," Edgar asked despite Odin, his council, Frigga and Thor being present in the same room.

"Why should I, he is clearly trying something that only profits him."

At this Edgar seemed to get smaller something Anne hated to see around her usual teasing older brother. "We don't have much of a choice."

"Yes, but I would like something if I want to consider this."

"And what would you want," Odin asked as if to remind them they weren't alone.

Anne looked up and around the surrounding area and spotted Loki. As she thought of something. Why should he be standing to the sidelines when I can do something? Even if he doesn't feel the same way wouldn't it be better he be with me then under Odin she thought. As she said something that was very much unexpected. "I want him," she said looking in the direction of Loki.

"You can't have him," Odin declared thinking she meant Thor and not Loki.

"And why not?"

"Because he is to rule," Odin said pointing to Thor.

"I don't mean Thor."

"Then who do you mean?"

"I mean Loki."

"Loki?"

"Yes Loki who else," Anne declared.

At this Loki choose to speak seeing the tension that was shimmering. "You don't have to do this," he said.

"He is right! Why would I allow him to marry you?"

"Well again if you want me to even consider your offers, I want something out of it. And I pick Loki," Anne declared not even faltering despite what was happening.

"Why all he is a mischivious god surely he would cause more trouble," Odin asked.

"To you, but to me he is so much more."

"Is he?"

"Yes, and if bothers you so much I will put more into it."

"Oh and what will that be young goddess who is lucky to be standing," Odin asked.

"I'll take him as he is, and wed Loki in the traditions of your house and Asgard. I will even consider your offer."

"You will?"

"Yes, but only if I get Loki or no dice. So what do you say?"

"Fine, Thor was to be heir anyway, if you want Loki then you shall."

"Thank you my king."

"Now I expect more open negations especially since we are to be family soon," Odin said as if he didn't just steal his own son for his own means.

"You shall have it," Anne said as she took her seat. Despite the earful she was getting whispered by her brother. As the talks continued until finally Odin grew tired and demissed them. Saying they were to talk about the other details tomorrow. Soon it was only Anne, and Loki left in the war chambers the two standing so close yet so far away in silence until Loki spoke.

"Why did you do that," Loki asked.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You didn't have to pity me."

"Who says I did?"

"Because all you have done is dimiss my offers."

"Your offers?"

"Yes, the offers I have made since we first met."

"Those were offers?"

"What do you think they were?"

"Just your usual teasing."

"And why would you think that?"

"Because honestly I didn't think you would choose me."

"Clearly and now you are stuck in a marriage because you pity me, poor Loki."

"I never said that."

"You didn't need to. Every time I flirt with you say nothing proves my point"

"I am not to blame completely for this."

"Aren't you?"

"Last I checked you did nothing to change anything despite everything" Anne countered.

"Because I thought you didn't want me."

"You thought I didn't want you?"

"You never talk about our flirtations."

"Nor do you."

"Well it doesn't matter because now you are forced with a man you don't love."

"I never said that."

"Please we both you don't feel the same," Loki said with a scuff his voice getting just a bit higher.

"I never said that."

"You don't have to."

"Do I?"

"Why would you pick me of all people?! I am just Loki."

"So what?"

"So what I am the second born? I am nothing compared to Thor. I am not a warrior as I prefer books. Not to mention I am in love with a woman who is constantly reject my advances."

"Again you think I reject them?"

"Yes, the first time I talked of you becoming queen. You said nothing."

"Because I thought you were joking."

"When have I ever joked?"

"Always."

"You think I would joke with you of people?"

"I don't know you never said anything?"

"Because I thought you knew what I was doing."

"Clearly I didn't or I wouldn't be fighting with the man I love," Anne blurted before she could stop herself.

"Love?"

"Yes."

"You love me?"

"Yes."

"Since when?"

"Since we met."

"Why?"

"Because you are you. You make me laugh, you make me smile, you are smart, you induldge me despite my craziness, and so much more."

"So you offered to marry me rather then say anything."

"You didn't say anything last I checked."

At this Loki let out a chuckle the first Anne had heard since the talks started. "My aren't we a pair of fools?"

Anne soon found herself chuckling as well. "Me the goddess of wisdom and stubborness not being wise."

"And me the god of mischief not lying?"

"Aren't we a pair of fools not realizing this," Anne finished.

"Are you sure you want this," Loki asked.

"Must you ask me this now after what I've said?"

"Just making sure I am not dreaming."

At this Anne got closer to Loki and despite Loki being taller then Anne she held his face. "Yes, for I have never been so sure about anything else."

Loki smile his own smile. "Then I suppose we have a deal my soon to be wife."

"Well then as your wife, I want a kiss."

"Are you sure?"

"Must you always ask that?"

"Just making sure."

Anne waited yet while Loki tried he couldn't seem to do it fast enough. "Seriously must I do everything in our relationship," Anne asked. Before Loki could say anything else his lips were soon on Anne. As the two shared their first kiss, a kiss that was centuries in the making. Upon parting the two were seen sharing smile, as Loki offered his hand to hers just like the first the they met.

"Shall we go my queen," he asked?

"Yes I believe I should have at least one dance with my soon to be husband," Anne said as she took his hand as the two walked out of the room hand and hand. Nobody watching them as they walked out, as they danced together or in their private moments just like nobody watched them dance that first time. Yet despite this Anne had always wanted him and now that she had him that was all that mattered to her. For she would never let him go again after this no matter what happened for if she had him, he had her they would never want for anything else, as they had what they wanted and nothing else matter to them as long as they had each other. All of it being because Anne wanted Loki.

A/N: The ending was so different from what I thought. In the OG like in the edit it would be after Loki was forced into chains. As all of this would take place after when Loki went to talk to Anne it would be in the past and the last time she would see him until after what happened. After that everything would take place in the throne room as Odin will say Loki is alone and all that. While Anne will offer to marry Loki, in exchange to think about things. The coversation will stay the same mostly through Loki will ensure she wants it.

Anne: Yes I am sure. Now do we have a deal or not?

Odin: We do.

Anne: Good now I also want Loki to be released from his chains seeing as he is my husband.

Odin: *motions* Release him.

*The guards release Loki as Odin will dimiss everyone as Loki and Anne will walk out together like the badasses they are.*

So yeah that was what I was thinking but I thought why not go in a different way. So yeah that is why it ended up like this. Other then that I bid you all farewell until the next chapter.

[determinedwriter]

Whumptober 2023: Day 4.

No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”

Ro

Pepper’s scream jolts me out of my focus on my homework, and I jump in surprise. Exiting my room, I call down the stairs. “Pepper, are you okay?”

She doesn’t answer so I go to the kitchen where I hear her voice, finding her by the counter. “Hi, Ro. I’m fine. I just dropped something.” 

I see it in her eyes. She’s scared. “Umm, okay…Do you need anything?’

Pepper gulps. “You should stay in your room.” 

“I don't think so.” A voice behind me says. Spinning around, I come face to face with a gun. 

I attempt to use my powers to stop the intruder, but he knocks me down with the butt of the gun. “Please, leave her alone!” Pepper protests.

“Shut up! You’re gonna show me to Stark’s workshop and let us steal everything we can carry!” A second man shouts.

“There’s a passcode. W-We don’t know it.” I lie. Pepper and I both have the code memorized. 

“Passcode isn’t a problem. We did hack your security system.” The first guy says.

“Friday?” I ask into the air, hoping to hear the AI that helps run the facility. Nothing.

Guns to both of our heads, Pepper and I are taken to Dad’s workshop where the two men break in. Watching anxiously, I see his work all get stolen. He should be home soon. He’ll stop them. 

Dad arrives home, causing the men to panic. They hide behind a counter like they had with Pepper, gun to my back while she greets Dad, trying not to tip off the invaders for my sake. She knows that any wrong move could get me shot.

“Hey, Pep. Ro. I had to get some things for dinner. Figured we could do something nice just the three of us.” He says to us.

The moment he looks me in the eyes, I know he knows there’s something wrong. “Ro, you’re paler than usual. And that’s saying something.” 

My heart pounds. “Am I?” I reply breathlessly.

He narrows his eyes. “You wanna help with dinner?”

If he goes to the counter, he’ll see the men. And I’ll be shot. He could be hurt too. Even if he is Iron Man. “I can put the groceries away and we’ll figure that out.” 

Still suspicious of my demeanor, Dad slowly nods. “Okay. Come to the car with me.”

One of the men presses his gun to my back in warning. “Dad…”

“Ro.” He replies. 

“Tony, why don’t I help?’ Pepper speaks up. “I think Ro’s just tired”

Please don’t leave me alone here, Pep. Please. 

Maybe she’ll get herself alone with Dad and tell him what’s happening. I have to be brave here. “Yeah, I’m just tired. Long day at school.”

Dad doesn’t quite get the memo. “Okay, what’s going on here? You’re both acting strange.” 

“That’s it.” One of the intruders growls impatiently. 

A shot goes off and I feel pain radiating up my back. “Ahh!”

“Ro!’ Dad and Pepper scream.

Falling to the floor, I writhe in pain. Dad fights the two men in his suit, quickly subduing them. “Friday, call an ambulance right now! Friday!”

“They hacked the security. Friday is offline!’ Pepper tells him.

“Shit!” Dad swears. I finally see him kneeling above me, hands over the wound in my back. 

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” I ask him, grimacing in pain. “God, it h-hurts.”

“No, no, you’re alright. It’s okay.” He reassures me. “Breathe. Breathe, Ro.”

I cough, proceeding to whimper in pain from the movement. “Mmph, Dad please…Please…”

His eyes turn softer. “It’s okay, babe. It’s okay. Pep, you got the police on the line?”

“Yes! They’re coming!” She exclaims. “Oh Aurora, please hold on!”

Wincing as Dad turns me over to inspect the wound, I start crying harder. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Oh God, I can’t do this. Dad, please h-help me.”

He seems to not know what to make of the wound, trying to keep my body still as I shake in pain and fear. “It’s okay. I’ll help you. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, baby girl.”

“I d-don’t remember the…last time you…called me th-that.” I reply.

Eyes full of tears, Dad keeps telling me sweet nothings to keep me calm. “I’ll do that more often, okay? I will. Just keep on breathing. Keep on breathing. I’ve got you.”

His voice slowly fades away, reemerging when I wake up in a hospital bed. “Ro? Ro, can you hear me?”

My eyes open to bright hospital lights. “H-Huh?”

Dad squeezes my hand. “You hear me?”

“Yeah.” I reply. “My back…what happened?”

He puts a hand on my forehead comfortingly. “You’re okay. The bullet didn’t hit anything vital. Doc said it’s kind of a miracle it didn’t hurt your spine. They’re still gonna make me wheel you out of here in a chair though.”

“And the guys that did it?” I question.

“Police got them after I beat the living hell out of those two,” Dad explains.

I sigh in relief. “Good…Love you…”

He grins. “I love you too, Ro.”

The recovery is more grueling than I expected, but both Pepper and Dad are with me every step of the way. But with people like those robbers out there, I still have fear that it may happen again. And I can’t know that it won’t.

What I do know, is that Dad will always protect me.

[ronanception]

I gotta know about Addams family ronance the hyperfixations are colliding

LOL So - I did watch Wednesday and I did find it fun but I also don't think of it as being very Addams-Universe canon. For instance, I don't think something as silly as a knife to the heart would kill Wednesday, even Pugsley's done worse things than that when they were playing 'assassin'. I don't have a ton written for this, mostly ideas.

Here's the entirety of what's been written down coherently. Lots of orphaned lines and paragraphs but this I can share:

Nancy was born at home on the fifteenth of March, and as soon as her father cut the umbilical cord, he handed her to his aunt. Her aunt brought her to the spare bedroom and set her in the center of a ritualistic circle before slicing long, deep lines from her fathers wrist to his elbow. They chanted together as his blood poured from his wounds and coated his newborn daughter. Once the chant was completed, Nancy filled her lungs with her first breath of air and let out a bone chilling howl.

Mike received the same ritual three and a half years later, except this time Nancy’s aunt cut little lines into the toddlers wrists so that she could hold them over her new baby brother like Daddy. Nothing came out of her wrists, but she still felt big and important, giggling at the squeaky howl Mike released.

-

Her fascination with her baby brother came swiftly to an end. He was loud and annoying and the lack of sleep was making her mommy upset and snappy. One night when Mike was about 6 months old and Nancy was positive her parents were asleep, she grabbed him from his crib and quietly exited their old Victorian house. There was a small pond on the property and that was where she took him, smiling contentedly as his screams became gurgles and finally, finally, no more bubbles came up from the bottom.

In the morning her mom was hysterical, crying and blabbering to their father, who didn’t seem nearly as worried as she was. He eventually agreed to go down to the police station himself and then gently pressed two orange pills into her palm. He waited for her to lose consciousness before he turned, hands on hips, to look at Nancy.

“Nancy, were you playing with Mike last night?” he asked patiently. She frowned and worked harder at coloring her cartoons. “I won’t be mad, Nancy, you just have to tell me where you left him.” he tried the gentle approach and, irritatingly enough, it worked. She looked at him with big blue eyes, her lip wobbling.

“I HATE Mike.” she said angrily, stomping her little feet in frustration, “He’s TOO LOUD.” Nancy shrieked indignantly. Her father sighed and shrugged, nodding his head.

“All babies are loud, Nancy. You were loud too when you were his size.”

“Nuh UH” she argued firmly.

“Yes-huh.” he shot back, making her smile.

“It’s okay to be mad about how loud Mike is, but you can’t leave him outside of the house like that. Mommy will get worried if he’s not in his crib in the morning.” he said seriously. Nancy bowed her head in shame and sighed, leading her father to the pond. He dove in and resurfaced with Mike, gurgling and blue, covered in mud. Her Father squeezed him until he stopped spitting up water, and then the screaming began in earnest.

For her punishment, Nancy had to help clean Mike in the sink and then boil a big pot of water so they could bring his body temperature back up quickly.

“If Mommy wakes up and he’s still cold, it’s not going to be fun for any of us.” he warned, plopping Mike into the stockpot before covering it with the lid. Her brother seemed to like the hot water, his cries turning to little happy gurgles.

“What did we learn, Nancy?”

“Always put Brother back in his crib.” she said monotonously. Her father smiled, his green eyes flashing as he ruffled her hair. 

“That’s right, kiddo.”