#you can’t see the head wound even if he takes the scarf off but you can feel the evident scar

[hello-galad]

Hello friends, here i am again with my headcanons that no one asked for:

Ilfana and Gast dressed Vincent when Hojo decided to lock him in the coffin.

First things first, I think after being killed, Vincent was given the Jenova cells. He was their test dummy before Sephiroth. Vincent was revived and got enhanced like SOLDIER do and THEN Lucretia decided to put the three demonic entities inside him to see if his body could be a vessel for them so they could study them, like they had been doing when Grimoire died. Shocking everyone, Vincent was able to stand them and that is when Lucretia puts Chaos in him. Chaos latched onto Vincent as his host/connection to the physical planet and obviously refused to cooperate with them proving to them that they couldn’t control them even when in a physical body.

Nothing new was figured out about Chaos or the other entities, no more than they already knew and that is when Lucretia starts spiraling down because a) she just had a baby. Also, they have been experimenting on from said baby from day one. Vincent tried to stop them and they killed him and b) She has caused the death of not one but TWO Valentines. The last Valentine currently strapped to a surgical bed screaming his throat out while her hubby probably takes an organ out to see how much Vincent can take.

I think Lucretia loved Sephiroth, but she also loved the magnificent being he could become once the experimentation was complete, those feelings clashed inside her brain until she decided she couldn’t take it anymore, says nope and goes to die in a cave.

Hojo is ANGRY, then. He blames Vincent for being the cause Lucretia is dead. Let’s remember that Dr. Lucretia Crescent was one of the top scientist at Shinra and a key scientist of the Jenova project. So Hojo starts experimenting with Vincent in earnest. He takes many organs to see if and how they regenerate, cuts him up and sews him up. He is trying to control his transformations, the demons inside him but he can’t. Eventually his body can’t take it anymore and Vincent ‘dies’. Truth is, Chaos puts him in a sort of coma to preserve his psyche because they are tired of the scientist prodding around, ruining the body that hosts him.

Gast and Ilfana (who was not in the lab but was living with Gast there) dress him up in a way that resembles Grimoire’s attire as a fucked up way (but kind of understandable) to say sorry to both father and son, after all Gast is a scientists and just like Lucretia, he believes that what they are doing will ultimately be worth the means since they are creating something that will revolutionize everything. Hojo expects to be able to retake his experiments on him in the future, although with Vincent dead, they don’t know if the entities inside him have left too.

They give lock him up in the coffin inside the Nibelheim mansion in Grimoire’s coat and scarf, which now hides a head wound…you see I believe Hojo shot him in the chest when Vincent threatened the Jenova program, he thought that it was Hojo who had brainwashed Lucretia into giving her own child to be a test subject. Vincent doesn’t die from a bullet to the chest. He dies from a bullet to the head from Lucretia who can’t allow him to have the program closed.

Let’s remember that Lucretia is a scientist, she is not in love with Vincent, she is not in a love triangle because she rejected Vincent’s love for her. This is the project she has worked for for years, the Chaos project was a failure but this could be it!

Vincent is the one in love with her, a love that probably was born of infatuation and as I like to headcanon as a promise Vincent made to Grimoire before he died. He promised his father he would protect Lucretia, Grimoire already knew they were working with dangerous things and he wanted her to be safe. (Because daddy issues make people do weird things and if his relationship with his father was already strained and Vincent failed in the one thing he promised his father, he truly believes he has to atone for his sins i.e. getting Lucretia killed by not being able to protect her even from herself. Also, he feels guilty about Sephiroth, in his head he could have stopped the Jenova project and spared him but he got distracted and he, Shinra’s best marksman, was killed of a gunshot because he couldn’t control his emotions and underestimated a dangerous person.

Now, here is something I like to think about: just like it happens when people are subjected to abuse by the person they love or have created an attachment to: selective memory. Vincent starts making excuses for her in his head. He blacks out the fact that Lucretia shot and also experimented on him as a way to cope. It is until the events of DoC that he has to face everything and he accepts the truth and lets go of her for good.

[themultifandomgal]

Shelby Sister- Troublesome Twins

This was requested, but I can’t find the actual request sorry.

Although YN and Finn were twins, YN was the youngest. Being 3 minutes younger than Finn and a female meant that everyone was protective of her, but she was just as dangerous as her brothers hence how they both got into this little pickle.

"YN stay behind me" Isaiah YN's boyfriend says earning an eye roll off the girl. She takes her own gun out with her brother and they sneakily walk up the stairs. Tommy told YN and Finn to stay out of the business, but they both love to defy Tommys orders, in their minds it's to prove themselves, in Tommys eyes they're just stupid. While YN stays by her brothers side they reach a door. Finn goes to open it but a gun shot it fired leaving a hole in the middle of the door. Finn goes to open the door again but this time he gets shot in the arm

"Fuck" he whispers. YN bends down wrapping her scarf around the wound Aberama Gold shoots the man before he can harm anyone else, killing him

"Damn it Finn"

"Ow" he groans as YN tightens the scarf around his arm more

"Aberama help 'im up would ya. We're going to Ada's"

"The couch, put something down on the couch or my sister will fucking kill me" Finn shouts at Isaiah who yanks a blanket off another chair

"Oi be carful" YN scolds her boyfriend

"She spends thousands of pounds in this shit"

"Finn shut the fuck up and sit down" YN sighs getting some alcohol for the wound and some for Finn to drink

"Peaky boy give me your blade" Isaiah looks at me asking for what I think

"Is give Aberama your blade" YN tells him taking a swig of the vodka she had found

"Why the fuck you drinking?"

"Because I still have to deal with the wrath of Tommy, getting yourself bloody shot Finn" YN shakes her head annoyed. Finn snatched the alcohol from YN and takes a swig himself

"Don't want you throwing up on your sister's furniture"

"Is hold 'im. Finns gonna squirm" Isaiah gives YN a nod and holds Finn down "what do you want me to do?"

"Pour the vodka and pressure on the wound as soon as I get the bullet out" YN nods ready with her scarf once again

"You know what you're doing?" Isaiah asks

"I've done this a thousand times" Aberama replies before cutting the bullet out. YN quickly pours the vodka on the wound and then applies pressure while Finn shouts and pants

"There you go just a little one"

"What the fuck is going on?" YN jumps hearing her sisters voice

"Hi Ada" she tries to sweetly smile

"What has Tommy told the pare of you. Shelbys stay out of the sporting

stuff"

"I know" YN pouts.

The following day YN hears the doors the the garrison open while she's cleaning up Finns mess. She walks to the bar and sees Tommy sat down and Arthur looking around

"Ok before you say anything I have no clue who she is" YN points to the girl Finn brought back with him "and Isaiah isn't here I promise we're still waiting for marriage" YN puts her hands in the air even though they all know she's lying straight between her teeth. Of course YN and Isaiah haven't waiting for marriage but at least they aren't flashing their relationship about

"Go home" Tommy tells the girl who's just woken up

"Come 'ere you. Put this on. Wrap up warm" Arthur says holding out a coat trying to give the girl some dignity even if that was YNs coat. She huffs crossing her arms

"You owe me a new coat"

"No he doesn't, but you owe us an explanation" Tommy grumbles

"Fine but you wanna hear it from the mastermind" YN clears her throat walking over to Finn

"Oi!" she shouts making him jump awake "wake up time" she then sweetly says smiling

"Rise and shine" Arthur says standing by Tommy

"What are you two doing here?"

"Wasting our fucking time you you both"

"Oi" YN says frowning "I'm not the one who trashed this place"

"No but you didn't do as I asked. You never fucking do" that's when the bottom lip comes out. Normally this works on her brothers but not today "don't do that" YN sighs "sit down" YN sits down next to her twin taking a drink off the table "what do I have to do, to make you both fucking listen to me?" both Tommy and Arthur now join YN and Finn in one of the booths "you took a bullet. You could have been shot. You've both been running around the streets with fucking guns in your hands"

"Somebody has to" Finn says

"Finn, we've got people for that kind of work. And what's your excuse?" Arthur looks at YN who shrugs

"You all left, just me, Finn and Isaiah here now"

"Ahh your jealous"

"Am not"

"Your acting out to get our attention" Tommy catches on to YN's game "what about you Finn your a fucking Shelby, a general. When was the last time you saw a general near the blood and puke eh? Now on ya feet"

"I thought you ust said I was a general"

"I did just say you were"

"Get on your fucking feet" Arthur grabs his younger and tries to yank him up

"Arthur..." Tommy steps in "Finn, YN look at this" tommy holds a bullet in his hand "this is the bullet that Aberama Gold cut from you. First and last. That goes to you YN as well. I don't want to be hurrying my little sister in the ground or having to hunt down whoever shot her do you understand?"

"Yes Tommy" YN looks down

"Go get dressed" Arthur tells Finn

"Oh and while your here. I've met this girl we wanna get marrrie"

"Ha what 'ave I told you. They'll say no. I've been with Isaiah for 4 years and I'm still not to allowed get married" YN chuckles

"This girl your trying to impress. Tell me 'bout her"

"She like the life"

"She likes the life eh? Do what I've been telling YN for years. Find someone who hates the life. Look at him" Tommy nods to Arthur "that's what he did and now he's chairman of the board"

"Now off you go" Arthur says to Finn

"And you. Go home"

"Fine" YN sighs

"And I'm mean home. Not Isaiah's"

"One of these days I will marry Isaiah and there nothing you will be able to do" with that YN walks out of the pub to go to Isaiah's not caring what Tommy says.

[tenderleavesbob]

Whumptober 29/31

No. 29: FATIGUE Labyrinth | Burnout | “Who said you could rest?”

Sky awoke slowly. His hands burned and his head ached. As he tried to open his eyes, he found himself flexing his fingers. They still worked. It felt like he had grabbed a hot iron. 

Everything was sore, like he had been in a fight. He had been, hadn’t he? There was… He wrinkled his nose. A rat?

What happened? Had he won? He was still alive, so he guessed he had. It didn’t feel like he had, though.

“I think he’s waking up,” someone said. Four?

“Wakey wakey, Sky.” Legend. Definitely Legend.

Sky shifted and groaned. He was on the ground, and he could feel every rock under him. It really didn’t feel like he had won.

“Guys?” he slurred. Ugh. It tasted like he ate Hyrule’s cooking again. What had happened? Sky tried to think but his head hurt.

“Sounds like he’s back, at least,” Legend said.

Back? Where did he go?

“C’mon, Sky.” Twilight’s voice. He sounded exhausted. “We can’t stay here. We gotta find the others.”

It took effort, but Sky forced his eyes open. It felt like the ground was moving under him, and when he squinted above him, it looked like it was moving, too. Twilight’s face appeared, bruised and apologetic, and Sky frowned at him. “Twi?” he murmured. “ ‘urt?”

Twilight’s grin looked forced even to Sky’s dazed brain. “I’m fine. Up and at ‘em, Sky.”

Sky murmured and grumbled as Four and Legend helped him onto Twilight’s back. They looked bruised and worn, too. What had happened? Weren’t they resting? He tried to ask, but his lips felt numb and his tongue was a dead weight in his mouth.

“You okay, Twi? You look tired.”

“Eh, I’m fine. C’mon now. Let’s go find Hyrule.”

“Yeah, let’s go check on Rulie. Then we’ll go look for the others, right?”

“Right.”

Rulie… the others… Sky couldn’t remember what happened, but he couldn’t shake the awful weight of failure. He saw Legend strap the Master Sword to his back and frowned. Why…?

“Rulie?” he managed. Were the others hurt? That was more important. 

His head hurt but he couldn’t pass out yet. He needed to know what happened. He couldn’t pass out yet. He couldn’t…

In a different room in the dungeon, Hyrule sneezed and rubbed his nose. Time paused where he was washing his hands and stared tiredly at him. “Please don’t tell me you’re getting sick.”

While Hyrule denied it, Wind focused on wrapping a blanket around Warriors. Wild helped so Warriors wasn’t jostled too much. Time wouldn’t let them use a potion, just in case the wound wasn’t completely cleaned out, and he also didn’t want any clothes to keep them from accessing the wound. A blanket from Wild’s Slate was the best they could do. Wild had put Warriors’s scarf in his Slate with the solemn promise to wash it later.

Warriors moaned quietly again, his head rolling in Wind’s lap. Exhausted and trying not to cry, Wind stroked his hair. “The worst is over now,” Wind whispered. “Time said you’re going to be okay, so just rest, all right? We’ll be right here.”

Some of them, anyway. They still didn’t know where the others were or if they were okay. Wind sniffled and absently wiped some of his tears from Warriors’s cheeks.

Wild pressed against his side and wrapped an arm around him. Wild was trembling, and Wind rested his head on Wild’s shoulder. The other boy relaxed a little, at least.

He heard Time talking Hyrule out of another green potion and watched through slitted eyes as Time encouraged Hyrule to lie down again. Time looked tired, too, but he managed a small smile at Wind. “You’re taking good care of him,” he said softly.

Wind looked away, back at Warriors’s face. He wiped away some more tears. He was so tired, but he couldn’t sleep yet. Not until Warriors opened his eyes again.

“Twilight will be back with the others soon,” Wild whispered into his hair. “You’ll see.”

Warriors’s face grew blurry again. Wind silently wiped his tears off his brother’s face and kept watch. Warriors was still unconscious. Twilight and the others weren’t back yet. He couldn’t rest yet.

Wild pressed himself close to Wind’s side and rested his cheek on Wind’s head. Warriors moaned again, and again, Wind gently shushed him.

Not yet. He couldn’t rest yet. Warriors still needed him. He couldn’t rest yet.

First | Previous | Next

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2023: October 4th

Day 4: Overstimulation, Oviposition/Egglaying, Human Urinal

Pero Tovar x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Alien creatures, bites, mentions of weight gain, changing bodies, sex, unprotected sex, eggs, egg fertilization, egg transfer.

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

China changed you. You can feel it in your body, simmering under the surface even as you deny it. Sweating and cramping when you think that no one is paying attention to you. The nasty wound from one of those creatures, the Tao Tei, slowly healing and fevered as it seeps and oozes. 

“She eats too much.” The grumble from across the fire is barely even heard, too busy stuffing your face with the contents of the generous plate you had dished up for yourself just as soon as the food was hot and partially cooked. Unable to wait until it was completely done before you start scarfing it down. 

“She is eating a lot.” William watches with a sense of bewilderment as he tears a hunk of bread in two and tosses a bite into his mouth. 

Pero Tovar sneers and narrows his eyes as you greedily gulp down your meal. “She’s getting fat.” 

“Fuck you.” That captures your attention and you look up at the Spaniard, glaring at him even as you shovel another spoon of food into your mouth. “See if I let you fuck me again.” 

It was true that your stomach was starting to poke out. Your armor and clothes are starting to tighten on your frame and making dismounting the horse a pain in the ass. 

Tovar scowls even harder, shoving William when he starts laughing at the obvious cut down. “Pendejo.” He hisses, hating how you just banned him from your bedroll. “I worry.” He grunts at you. “The food will not last if you keep eating like this.” 

You can’t explain why you need so much food. Why the pangs in your stomach are only satisfied when you eat to the point where you are gorging yourself. Feeling as if you are starving if you don’t. 

It’s later when Tovar shuffles up to you. The horses bedded down and William is already curled up and snoring in his own blankets next to the fire. You hiss as you pull away the rag from the bite the creature had given you. It was lucky that it hadn’t killed you, freezing right as it started to bite down. Only causing a flesh wound that was slowly starting to close up. 

“It looks better.” He grunts, kneeling next to your leg and his hands cradle your calf. “Not as ugly.” 

You roll your eyes and resist pulling your leg away from him. Wanting to snap that he should go off and tug his cock if he wants some pleasure because there is none to be had in your bed tonight. 

The thing with Tovar was simple. You fucked because he was a rough and decent lover. He wanted a warm cunt to fill and you wanted the weight of a man on top of you. It had started while you were at the wall and continued on as you make your way back west. 

The only reason that you don’t is because your appetite for more than just food has increased. Always wet and eager to take his cock, you feel like whore at a brothel, unable to think of anything else but the next time he fills you up. You had even rubbed your clit while riding your horse you had been so desperate for relief. 

“Are you going to fuck me?” You ask. “Or am I too fat for you now?” 

Pero snorts and shakes his head. “Too fat to fight, not fuck.” He smirks, making you reach out and pinch him. “Ow!” He hisses, jerking back from your fingers. 

You slap away his hands from your body and drag him close for a kiss. Since starting to fuck you, he had kept his beard trimmed. Noticing how you liked it shorn. Eagerly reaching down and palming his rapidly hardening cock through his breeches. “Then fuck me, you asshole.” 

Pero hisses when you squeeze him, twitching under your rough touch and pushes you back on your blankets. “You are always demanding my cock now.” He’s not complaining, just like he wasn’t complaining about the belly that is expanding under your leathers. If he were the type of man who lived that kind of life, he would imagine you even rounder. Keeping his home and riding his cock every night. Plump from giving him babies to raise into strong sons. But he’s not that kind of man. 

When you both are bare, Tovar sinks into your wet cunt without any loving words or soft touches. Need is what is driving you and your moan fills his ears. Wrapping your legs around him to push him deeper, clenching around him as your stomach cramps. 

The pains have been consistent, but you thought it was the hunger, now you aren’t so sure. Not painful, but they are squeezing your insides. Making your entire body contract. 

Not that Pero either notices or minds. His groans are filthy as he starts to frantically rut into you. Fucking you like he’s not fucked a cunt in years rather than less than a day. 

“More, Pero, more.” You beg, nails digging into his back as he rocks into you and your own body responds by squeezing his cock like a vice. 

“Mierda.” Pero hisses, feeling like you’re going to squeeze his cock off as he fucks you. Every time you clench down it gets harder. Not that he minds. It’s the tightest fucking cunt he’s ever had and he loves fucking you. 

The pressure builds, like an ache in your stomach and every harsh thrust makes the belly that you’ve developed shake. The softness of your stomach becomes a rock under the skin. 

Your eyes roll back and you beg for more, needing him to fill you up. To bathe your womb in his seed as your stomach cramps up again. Feeling like some of the pains you have during your monthly, but more intense. 

For his part, Pero doesn’t stop. Continues to fuck into like you begged him too. Enjoying the tightness that seemingly gets tighter every few seconds. “Fuck.”

You cry out, not caring that you might wake William. Nothing matters but for Pero to cum, for you to have him deep inside you as he fills you. Your fingernails score down his back hard enough to make Pero hiss, hips bucking out of rhythm and it throws you over the edge. 

Clenching down, your cunt spasms and the pressure of something being released from your womb makes your eyes widen with a loud gasp. Pero can feel it too, his own expression startled right before he gives out a strangled grunt and pushes deep. 

There’s something inside you. Something being pushed back as Pero cums. Wave after wave of his seed making whatever has just pushed out of your womb move in your cunt with his cock. 

“What the hell is happening?” He demands tightly, his jaw tightening and his face contorting in surprise and perhaps a bit of pain as you cling to him, not letting him pull away from your cunt. Legs wrapped around him and locking him deep inside your body. 

Rationally, you don’t know. Instinctively, you know that Pero needs to stay inside you while he rides out his high. Moaning his name as the egg that has been growing inside your body is transferred to the male of your species. Pushing inside him to hold and grow until it is ready to emerge. 

Pero doesn’t realize it yet, but he is going to be a father. The egg is your child. You had changed in China, and now that is going to give way to a new breed of humans. 

[fanfictionstuff]

Amaimon x Student Reader 9

*for the Bon x reader x Amaimon request. I love the idea, and I'm trying to write it, but then I think Amaimon might just get annoyed and off Bon. Also it'd have to end with Amaimon because- I'm obsessed with him lmao*

I might've written the last paragraph first, then wrote the rest to fill in until I got there smh. I'm also writing chapter 3 for Amaimon x Exorcist. This chapter is not smut-heavy, but there is a tad bit.

You fidget awkwardly while sitting across from Amaimon in the restaurant. Upon your arrival, the owner greets you warmly and excitedly, informing you that Sir Faust has reserved your table. It’s a stunning restaurant, one you’d usually only visit for special occasions due to the menu prices. Even though the owner reassures you that everything is already covered and encourages you to order whatever you desire, you can’t help but gravitate toward the least expensive items. While all the options are pricey, there is a significant cost difference among some dishes.

As the waitress approaches, she glances over both you and Amaimon. When her gaze settles on you, a wave of embarrassment washes over you, making you want to shrink down. You can’t shake the feeling that her eyes are fixated on a particular spot on your neck. Just before you left the cinema, Amaimon had bitten you. Hard. Before leaving the theater, you checked it in the bathroom; the wound was still open and bleeding freely. The bleeding has stopped, but you know that bruising is beginning to appear.

During dinner, you sit awkwardly, unsure what to do or say. Amaimon doesn’t care to start a conversation, finding just watching you squirm entertaining enough. 

After dinner, Amaimon takes you home. “Kiss me.” He orders, pinning you between himself and the door. Nervously, you nod and softly press your lips against him. Izumo was correct. Amaimon doesn’t hesitate to slide his hand up your thigh, slipping beneath your dress. Amaimon's lips leave yours, trailing kisses down your neck as he whispers, his voice low and commanding, "You're my pet." His grip on you tightens, possessive. His lips press against the bruising skin on your neck. “This better not be covered Monday,” he warns before sucking hard and making sure there will be a visible mark for at least a few days.

--------------------------------

Shiemi stares at you, her jaw dropped, as you recount what happened on the date. It’s the day after, and you’ve invited Shiemi to your apartment since Izumo and Paku are unavailable today. Shyly, you tug at the scarf covering the mark he left on your skin. “I don’t know what to do. It’s so noticeable. On Monday at school, not only will our group tease me, but everyone else will be staring if I don’t cover it! Oh God, the teachers! I hadn’t thought about them yet; they’ll definitely tell my parents.” You know your mom and dad would move you out of Japan if they discovered you had any kind of relationship with Amaimon. “What do I do?!” Poor, sweet Shiemi looks completely lost and has no idea what to suggest. “Maybe you should just wear a scarf tomorrow anyway? You wore one all last week, so it won’t seem like you’re trying to hide it, right?”  

“R-right. Right. Yes, you’re right. I’ll just tell Amaimon I forgot, and yeah- that’ll work.” You nod confidently. 

-------------------------------------

Everything is fine. You go to class, and weirdly, Amaimon doesn’t mention it. You think at first maybe he had also forgotten, or he’s gotten used to seeing you in a scarf, so it went over his head. 

Everything is working out; it’s fine. 

Perfect. 

Except it’s not perfect because Amaimon is pissed. 

You can’t tell because of the stoic expression. If you could read his mind, you would’ve realized how angry he was and probably thrown the scarf in the trash to appease him. But alas, you’re not a mind reader. 

He doesn’t show it until lunchtime. 

Amaimon watches with a snarl. Not only are you covering proof that you belong to him, but you’re also getting too close to Rin Okumura, the one human he despises more than the rest. His first instinct is to kill Rin, but Mephisto has already warned him that if he kills anyone, he’ll end up locked away again. His eyes scan your face; you’re too happy. Why are you so happy with Okumura? How long will he be separated from his pet if he's imprisoned again? He observes Bon throwing an arm over your shoulder, saying something that makes your face turn red while you bashfully look away.  His thoughts of torture and murder instantly vanish when you make eye contact with him. 

You watch as Amaimon’s expression turns from rage to eerily blank. Oh fuck, oh fuck, he’s angry at me. Where is Shiemi when I need her? If Shiemi were here, you’d cling to her, needing something to ground you, hell, even Izumo. But the girls aren’t here, so you’re sitting stiffly between Rin and Bon. 

Amaimon approaches you silently, his eyes locked on yours. “Why are you wearing that?” I don’t like when my pets disobey. His words ring through your mind. 

“It’s cold. I wasn’t trying to hide it.” As you undo the scarf, you lie through your teeth, tossing it towards the deadly grumpy demon. Rin is to your right, where the mark is. Shima is also to your right, and thankfully, he reacts quickly, harshly shoving his elbow into Rin’s ribs to keep the half-demon quiet. “You didn’t say anything this morning, and I forgot.” Another lie. You can’t forget it when a tinge of pain shoots through you if you move a certain way. You just don’t want someone to tell your parents. 

“Kiss me.” 

Your mind goes blank, and you can barely hear your friends’ dramatic reaction to Amaimon’s order. Just like before, you stare in disbelief, like maybe you might have misheard him. But your face flushes crimson as you realize you heard him correctly. You’re at school, and this goes against the rules. You could get suspended. He removes the lollipop from his mouth and gazes at you expectantly.

Peach. It’s the first flavor you experience after hesitantly pressing your lips against Amaimon’s. He quickly deepens the kiss, running his tongue along yours. The artificial scent and taste of peach candy flood your senses, blended with a hint of the earthy forest scent that always clings to Amaimon.

As you pull away, gasping for air, Amaimon smirks at you, pleased. You're left feeling both embarrassed and aroused, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. 

Your friends are still watching, their expressions a mix of shock and concern. Rin looks like he wants to say something, but Shima's arm is still wrapped tightly around him, holding him back. Bon seems to be trying to process what just happened. 

“Amaimon, we’re at school, " you whisper as he leans in again. He pulls back slightly, running his fingers lightly down your cheek. "You're my pet," he growls. “And I will claim you whenever and wherever I please. Is that a problem?” 

You quickly shake your head. “No. No problem at all.” 

Shima releases Rin while scratching the back of his head. “She’s melting in his arms.” 

Rin growls, stepping forward. “What the hell is that?” He points at your neck while snatching the scarf from Amaimon. “You idiot. She can’t walk around with that; she’ll get in trouble with the school. She could be expelled!” 

“It’s Big Brother’s school.”

“So? You said he told you to follow the rules, right?” Rin points at the bite/hickey. “That is against the rules!” He shoves the scarf back into your hands. “And so is kissing!”  Rin snaps, but Shima steps in between them, his hands raised placatingly. “Guys, let’s calm down; like you said, we’re at school.” He attempts to help. 

Bon speaks up for the first time since Amaimon’s arrival. “What the hell is that? Did he force you?”

Your eyes widen at the thought, and you shake your head quickly. “No! Of course not.”

“Please, we all know it was her choice,” Shima interjects with a smirk.

“Yeah, right,” Rin scoffs.

Amaimon glares at Rin, his voice low and dangerous. “Stay away from her.”

Rin bristles at the threat, “What do you mean to stay away from her?  She’s been friends with us for months. She’s known you for a week. Who the hell do you think you are to her?” 

Amaimon stares blankly, and for a moment, Rin thinks maybe he won, maybe Amaimon will back off and leave them, and ______ alone finally. But then the demon king smirks, using Rin’s words from the other day. “I’m long term- marriage, kids, and all that.” 

---------------------------

Shiemi, Izumo, and Paku stare at you with wide eyes as you share what they had missed earlier in the day. Izumo recovers first; she stares at you long and hard, looking for something in your expression. “You do realize he wasn’t serious, right?” 

“Of course.” 

Izumo sighs. “But?” 

Slowly, you shake your head. “No, no buts. I know he wasn’t serious. Of course, I know he wasn’t serious.” 

She sighs again. “But?” 

“I said no buts.” 

“_____.” 

“I know he wasn’t serious…but hearing him say it- I just want it more now, and it’s so stupid. I know it’s stupid. I’ll be lucky if this lasts longer than a month, won’t I?” 

The three girls just give you looks of pity. 

Izumo glares at the floor. “Okumura needs to learn to shut up. None of us are happy about it. I understand how he feels:” Her fists clench in her lap, “but you’re so stupidly blinded by lust and love. He just needs to sit back and shut up until it plays out.” 

Rin doesn’t shut up; it’s almost as if he actively seeks out you and Amaimon whenever you’re together. You can tell Rin is nearby when Amaimon unexpectedly pulls you in for kisses. It’s not just to annoy Rin, though; Amaimon genuinely seems to relish having his hands or lips on you whenever he gets the chance.

Amaimon has specific preferences; he likes to make you take the initiative. He rarely kisses you first unless Rin is present. Though there have been multiple times when Rin was present, he’d order you to kiss him.

“I’m surprised you don’t have another date with Amaimon tonight,” Rin grumbles, flipping some meat on the grill. Amaimon has been intersecting you and your friends after school all week. You think he might only be asking and taking you on all these dates to piss Rin off. The half-demon is almost always there when Amaimon cuts in. 

You shrug, “You can’t complain about him. You’re the one who caused him to have an interest in me. Thanks, by the way.” You grin, flipping the meat, Rin hadn’t gotten to yet. 

“No!” 

“You told him I liked him, so it’s your fault that Amaimon decided to take an interest in me.” But that’s not entirely accurate; Amaimon had already mentioned you intrigued him for a different reason, although he’s yet to reveal what it is. You suspect it has something to do with what he overheard the first night you met him. He still claims he doesn’t remember.

Bon glares at Rin. “Can we go one night without talking about him? Why did you even have to bring him up?” 

You glance at your phone as it lights up with a notification. 

Perfection: Come here. 

“Oh, I have to go.” You stand, tossing some cash on the table. Shiemi grabs onto your arm. “______, you haven’t eaten yet.”

“I’m not that hungry.” 

Amaimon stares down at his pet with a stoic expression. He enjoys getting under Rin’s skin, sharing details about the dates, kisses, and everything else with him, knowing it will anger the son of Satan. He kisses you in front of him, unabashedly moving his hand up your skirt when he knows Rin is watching. He knows this will infuriate Rin much more than all the previous incidents. But seeing you like this—shy, nervous, and excited—is a sight that makes him feel possessive. Rin doesn’t deserve to know just how amazing you are, and Amaimon will ensure that no other man does either. He tangles his hand in your hair. “Swallow, pet.” He demands, shoving your head lower on his cock. 

[yrsdf]

The cold wind cuts across his face. His vision is blurred from the condensation that forms over his breath. He pulls the scarf tighter around his neck and adjusts the goggles on his head that lay above his mask. He squints at the dark, snowy landscape and begins walking towards his girlfriend, eyes focused on the ground for any landmines or traps that might have been left by the enemy. His left hand is holding the radio antenna, listening for any messages from the other squads, while the right pulls up his sleeve revealing the wristwatch that’s been strapped around it for the last month. He isn’t paying attention and you trail off ahead of him walking beside an abandoned house, your gun in hand as a loud boom is heard, his eyes look forward and all he sees is a large thick cloud of smoke, and his girlfriend not in sight.

Konig makes it to the house, and the smell of smoke and destruction fills his nostrils and burns his throat.

"Damn it, where are you?" 

He coughs, and his vision still hasn't fully corrected itself, making it even harder to make a clear path toward his goal.

Frustration and fear begin to build as his hands grasp at anything, desperately searching.

he hears her, the sound of gasping and small sobbing

Konig scrambles toward the sound. He pushes the door open, and staggers as he pushes his way through the debris littering the floor. The smoke forces him to double over, and he coughs and wipes away tears from his eyes.

As his vision starts to return, he reaches his hand out blindly, and finally comes in contact with her. 

"___! I'm here."

He falls to his knees beside her, gently feeling her face, then moving to her side, searching for more wounds or anything to stem the blood. 

"my love… darling!?"

Konig takes her hand and whispers to her. His vision is still hazy and his ears ring with the sound of the explosion, and tears well in his eyes. The smoke makes it hard to breathe and his vision becomes blurred as he tries to clear away the tears.

He leans close to her, gently touching her cheeks and the sides of her face.

 "___, you can't leave me,"

 he says, his voice wavering.

she can’t really make out his face, she shakily places a bloody hand on his face, gently rubbing his cheek until her arms begin to go weak, her hand falls limp against his leg, her gasps turn into smaller shallower breathing

Her hand is cold and frail against his warm face, and tears stream down his cheeks.

Konig holds her close, wrapping his arms about her as she lies in his lap.

 "Please, _____. Please hold on,"

 he pleads.

He buries his face between his arms, and weeps. 

"This can't be happening."

 A feeling of despair and emptiness fills his chest. 

"Please."

she leans her head against his shoulder as her breathing comes to an end, her small body limp against his, her heart beat slow and almost gone

"No..No,No,NoNoNo.."

 he slurs as his voice breaks.

 "Please, ____."

Konig holds her close, and for a moment closes his eyes. His hands gently cup her head, and he kisses her hair. 

"What am I going to do without you, ___?"

 he whispers. 

"How will I live with myself for not keeping you safe? What was I supposed to do?" 

His voice wavers, and he trembles.

___________________

back to the base

As Konig returns to base, he passes by the lifeless bodies of his fellow soldiers, the sight causing him to stumble.

Once he gets inside, he collapses to the floor as exhaustion and anguish wash over him. A sudden sense of guilt consumes him, and he presses his hands into his temples and presses hard in an effort to hold back an explosion of tears within him.

He lays there for a long time, feeling each breath like a burning sensation in his lungs. 

"It's not fair-,"

 he says, and his voice breaks as he buries his head into his knees.

___________

years pass

The years have changed everything. Konig once saw himself as a boy scout, a well-mannered, level-headed, and calm individual. But now he feels a great emptiness where his heart used to be. Instead, it was replaced with a cold, calculating attitude where he views all others as either useful or worthless.

He is filled with a constant anger, and a desire for vengeance, for redemption. He sees all those around him as weak and soft and he despises their apathy. He pushes himself harder than ever before, in combat training, in his career, in everything.

Konig lies in his bed, drifting between sleep and wakefulness. He can feel a warmth against him as if someone is lying with him, and he smiles. 

-___? Is that you?-

he thinks, and turns over to search for her.

[lune-de-miel-au-paradis]

Collision

Summary: Maul and Nina have their first fight. Both of their lack of communication and trust issues show up. It’s long and heated. 

Pairing: Darth Maul x OC Nina Cerasus

Warnings: Mention of wounds, medication, anxiety, mutual pining, miscommunication, idiots in love, angst (Let me know if I left out something.) Minors DNI! Every sentence in italics is an inner monologue.

AN: This fic means a lot to me and I worked on it a lot. If you have any advice or comments, please share them with me kindly. I'm posting for the first time in years and I don't want nasty comments to discourage me from posting again. Remember it’s a slow burn! If you don't like it, please go to another blog. I did my best to translate it, so pls forgive me, English is not my first language.

Please enjoy reading!

previous chapter

divider by the lovely Saradika

“Get out of my head if you can’t face me in person!”

Maul heard her firm words toward him. She didn’t even turn, just stared at the landscape.

Earlier that day Maul was meditating by the lake, deeply hidden in the forest of Naboo. 

Rays of sunlight danced warmly on his tattooed chest. This time, thanks to the pleasant weather, he only wore his black pants.

Being in nature meant that one of the purest manifestations of the Force could be felt more strongly and unobtrusively. He could feel it in the soft grassy ground, the gentle trickle of the water, the leaves of the trees and all the living things that were nearby, whether in the lake or in the sky. He could sense the mossy smell of approaching summer in the air.

The Force hummed around Maul, which helped him go deeper in his meditation, helped him concentrate and see and feel everything more clearly. It was as if he saw everything he wanted to see through a crystal mirror.

Zabrak was preoccupied with so many things. His mind was filled with questions that he knew he could not address to his Master. Most revolved around a young woman with particularly green eyes.

The appearance of Nina in the last few days caused a serious disturbance in the relationship that bound Maul to the Force. 

It felt like taking a wrong turn off his path, a misstep from his goal. 

For once, he didn't understand the path he was on, he saw the final outcome towards the big Greatness only as a very uncertainty. 

He had been sitting upright, eyes closed, motionless since coming from the hospital. From the outside, he looked like a statue. A fearsome warrior stuck and frozen in time. Awaiting the adequate moment of awakening, the command to act, spilling filthy Jedi blood.

In his mind, he held the fragments of memories stolen from Nina like pieces of a puzzle. He tried to match and interpret them chronologically. He knew exactly what he was searching for. A presence of his Master. For that unmistakable characteristic, immense kind of darkness. It’s so intense he sometimes even tastes it on his tounge.

He found himself disappointed. Nina was not in contact with his Master, or at least not in these bit’s he could see in her mind. That's why he continued to look at the memory fragments continuously. Scrutinizing every moment. Childhood memories filled with light, music and stars. There weren't many of those. He saw fingers on piano keys, on a telescope, among holobooks. He sensed the smells of paint and sweet cherry. A colorful scarf, a woman's laugh, a gentle caress. Neon lights, bitter taste of alcohol and dancing in bars. Smiling girl with pink hair. An older lady sits with tea in her hand, her face tired but peaceful.

These were followed by memorial images that were imbued with grief and sorrow. A little girl clings to a man -but Maul see this one quite blurry- 

"Don't go! Stay! We need you!" cried the little girl. The man just shook the little girl off him. "This will be the best my little Comet." 

The visions then became vivid of a woman lying on a bed, pale and obviously ill. He felt a strong hand gripping the arm of the little girl he had just seen, albeit already older. "I'm not ready to leave yet! I don't want to leave you my little Star!" 

Maul could feel the fear and panic emanating from the little girl. She was traumatized and understandably horrified by the woman's death, since she was too young to see and understand the occurrence of another death.

Other memories were not particularly significant. 

He noticed a pattern. After each bad memory the next one was more and more vague, confusing and short. He concentrated and with the Force guidance he manipulated them to see them in his mind over and over again, like a holofilm with big breaks. Every rift was dark, filled with anger and grief. He probably accessed and stole some of Nina’s deeply repressed memories. 

He also saw fragments of today's event, her mind showed him. He felt Nina's fear, but her firm resistance when she was attacked today in the city. He saw the attacking Clawdite's face. He saw another man, a man with forest green eyes. He looked at Nina with angry and deep hatred. Who could he be? What if his Master made some sort of deal with the young woman but erased his presence to hide it from Maul? Maul learned a long time ago that he can't be suspicious or careless enough when it comes to his Master’s mind games. 

Pondering the memories didn't solve anything or answer Maul's further questions. He needed to know more. He was sure that there was some significance to their meeting. He felt conflicted. 

He formed a plan. When the starry night reclaimed its territory above the daylight, he dressed and left the lake and the old villa behind. He knew the location of her apartment downtown, but something told him deep inside that he didn't have to go that far for Nina. So Maul decided to rely on the Force, which would lead him to the young woman eventually.

He barely reached the edge of the forest when he saw her. In the darkness, he watched her carefully from among the trees, like a shadow.

Maul didn’t know the answer why but seeing Nina being hurt and vulnerable angered him, made his breathing hard, his hands were both forming thigh fists on his sides. He saw her small form facing him with her back.

Her hair was still a bit damp from an earlier shower, her braid slightly sticking to the back of her a loose knit sweater that evoked the colors of the dawn. Under the sweater her dress was green.

He was so close he could hear her heart breathing which was slow, slower than a normal human heart should beat. Her scent filled his nostrils. Cherry, almonds and mint tea. This time it was more fresh and it mixed with the sweetness of the milla flowers that bloomed at night on Naboo. He closed his eyes, he memorized her nosie, just being and breathing quietly. He liked it. The sound of her existence made him feel light in a way. As if despite all the bad things that happened in the universe, her existence was the only good thing. As suspicious as she made him, Maul had to admit that she still had a peaceful effect on him. He felt an unfamiliar warmth, which was not anger, it was soft.

This kind of feeling of lightness surrounded him, and weighed on his soul. He felt it since they both shook hands a few nights earlier. Then the Force infused this warmth, this lightness, into Maul's being through her touch. This, among others, piqued his interest. That it was the Force or Nina herself? What is the purpose of this? And why right now, before the Great Plan is starting its steps set into motion? If it’s the Force is it prue or is it manipulated by his Master?

He had so much to lose, and he was not ready to fail. He needed more information, and quickly before this wave of new emotions washed over him and made a damage that will be incapable of improving by him.

He needed to dig deeper in her mind, search for more information that’ll answer this feeling he has, and take it.

If he wants to get what he needs to make sense for this whole situation, he has to be ruthless. Yes, he was too weak, too compassionate last time with her. How pathetic of him, that he let Nina get under his skin even for a pathetic minute. To let her be a wedge between him and his revenge, and him and between his destiny: power and greatness. Maul would have chosen these, and sacrificed everything for these without second guessing until now..... 

Why would Nina have an intention with him if this is not a test? What could he offer other than serving his Master's Great Plan? Nina does not fit into this goal, to his life. Yet he wants to be with her. What a conflicting situation…

He was there again. She felt him before she saw him.

He was there. Calm, Collected and powerful energy surrounded the air.

She waited to fill her lungs with the fresh night air, then she spoke, her back still facing him. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her sweater, she didn't even notice she was crying. The moon phases tattooed on her back were slightly visible to him.

She felt something in her mind, barely noticeable, shadowy dark hands with clawed ends tried to reach into her thoughts. They were so careful that Nina almost failed to recognize the strange sensation.

“Get out of my head if you can’t face me in person!” she ordered the darkness. 

He didn’t answer, instead she heard his barely audible soft footsteps coming closer. 

“One is a coincidence, twice is a pattern. What should we call the third occasion?” she said and plucked off a cluster of fragrant jasmine, elegantly lifting it to her nose, inhaling its sweet scent, then fiddling with the flowers in her hands.

First the Pantheon club, then her favorite place by the lake, and now the garden that extends towards the forest and becomes one with the backyard of her home. She wasn’t sure if the hospital visit was real or a vivid fever dream.

“Fate.” His voice was velvety like a lover's touch.

He stepped next to her and began to admire the dawn, whose colorful lights slowly brightened from the obsidian dark night, but even the first rays licked their silhouette warmly. She chuckled softly and turned to Maul, leaning her hips against one of the rock walls.

"You might be able to convince me of coincidences, but you'll never convince me that you believe in fate. It's an ideal for dreamers and romantics. Something says you're not one to be one of them, Maul."

“You’re injured..” Instead of an answer, he just said this, referring to the bandage on the girl's hairline and the bruises on her body.

The deep, rich voice brushed over her skin like a dark whisper, followed by a shiver that meant equal parts of waring and pleasure. She recognized it immediately; she heard it only two times in her life, but it was enough to etch itself into her memories. It was unforgettable, just like the owner of it. 

“You have a talent to turn every question into an observation.” 

“Who did this to you?” he asked, faceing her, his glooming irises searching for her green ones.

“So you were worried about me then?” she asked in a teasing playful tone.

It was not a worry he felt, because there was no bond nor fondness. He felt some sort of curiosity mixed with lust and a little amount of amusement for her. The Force tried to tell him something he yet could not understand, that was the part that made him curious. The problem was that she was not immune to the touch of darkness. So he couldn’t know her without being familiar with her acts and the way she uses truth and information.

“I’m merely curious.”

“Let’s just say this attack was a response to my bold move. The consequences of my decisions.” she shrugged her shoulders.

“Why did all of her answers have to be so nonsensical, yet suggestive at the same time?” he thought.

Maul started to lose his patience toward this situation and toward Nina he wanted answers, and he wanted them now. 

“Why did that man want you to quit? Who is he? And why did you get attacked after talking with him?” he asked in a demanding tone. 

Maul towered over Nina like a hungry sinister shadow, dressed in black to the feet, scrutinizing the young woman's movements and the micro-mimics of her words from under his hood.

“What? How did you..?  Were you spying on me?!” Nina's voice dripped with surprise and Maul could feel the distrust in her with a hint of fear. This filled him with satisfaction.

Nina’s posture shifted, she didn’t step back, she stretched and straightened her spine and shoulders, looking like a cobra before biting.

"I thought you made it clear in our first conversation that you weren't some sort of stalker."

"I am waiting for my question to be answered." Maul said.

The condescending style of tone irritated Nina. Jade eyes were searching for him. She tossed the jasmine branch away. She let it fall down into the depths towards the waterfalls that surrounded her planet. She touched the upper side of her arm, where the fall of the sweater allowed her shoulders and upper arms to be seen. It still had the four horizontal and one vertical mark on her pale flesh. Her dad's hand print.

Maul held out his gloved hand. Nina controlled her first reaction to pull away, inhaled as his fingers tingled over her skin. Baerly and almost gently ran over the bruise. She had goosebumps.

"What do you want from me?" she breathed out the question.

Maybe even Maul himself didn't know exactly.

“Everything”-He thought -“I want everything.”

Instead he said this, pulling back his hand.

“Answers. But if it brings you comfort, if I wanted to kill you I would, on our first meeting.”

“Then ask.”

So he did. 

“Do you know my Master?”

“No. Maybe. What is his name?”

Already with the first question, they entered dangerous territory. Nina souldn't even know about Maul's existence let alone his Master’s. She is always so twisted with her words. Maul has to reframe his questions to get the answer implicitly but clearly.

"Did someone pay you to be there that night at the club? And later in the woods."

"No." she answered firmly but raising her eyebrows questioningly.

"So they blackmailed you? They instructed you? Maybe in a message or in person."

"What? No! YOU were the one who came to me that night in case your memory fails you." Nina stepped closer. “ Are you in any kind of trouble?"

"Answer the question!"

"I already did."

"Why don't I believe you then?

“That sounds like a YOU problem.” 

Maul looked at her with such a sternness that it seemed to Nina that the quiet darkness surrounding him was taking physical form. She inhaled and exhaled a long breath.

“So, if I understand  you correctly, you think that I have some sort of ulterior motive toward you? Except, that I find you attractive?”

Maul just stared at her with piercing golden eyes. She read them easily.

“You imply that not only am I some sort of threat but I am a liar too?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. You twist my words.”

“Well, it jolly well sure sounds like it!” she was angry, he could tell. 

Anger was good, familiar. He could work with that. It was a familiar field, an emotion he could cope with.That he could provoke and manipulate just as he pleased.

“Is this an interrogation? Should I call my lawyer? ” she mused.

“Who was that man who sent you to hospital?” he pushed further.

"This is absolutely none of your business! He is nobody.”

Maul stepped closer, intimidation pouring into the young woman's aura. He can't leave room to dodge. He has to take advantage of the opportunity while Nina is still so vulnerable. He lifted her chin with his index finger. 

“That's a lie. Why do you lie, Starlight?

That name again. That voice!

Maul's voice affected her like a seductive melody, menacing yet veiled in the air between them. Endless wild night, darkness and the promise of freedom mixed with violence. Maul was like the dawn around them, a wild and vivid red beam of light penetrating the calm colors of the night. Orange, purple, rich colors of crimson. Nina never knew she had a voice kink. Now he unlocked this in her.

Her heart fluttered. She didn't welcome the feeling in her chest. She needed space but also yearned for the warmth of his darkness. She felt the butterflies flutter inside her. She needed something to distract herself. She needed space as well as distance.

“You are observing me too closely! I’m not a little bug in your palm!” she pushed his hand away.

“Why are you making this much effort to avoid the question? Are you afraid, Starlight? It's a natural emotion, but it makes you seem like a coward.”

He stepped on thin ice of her patience. 

“You call me a coward?! Funny. If the Force using path doesn’t work out, you should be a comedian!” she laughed dryly. “I'm not sure what exactly you want from me to answer. But I have this feeling that no matter what I say, it’ll never go through your thick skull. You already decided about me. Let’s negotiate then. What is it you except from me?”

“I want your confession.”

“A confession? About what? I didn't do anything!” 

“A confession about me. What did you do to me? Why are you holding me back from my path?” he thought silently.

“I know there was a reason behind today's incident. I know you have something planned. I’m interested in who is involved in this case? What is your goal?"

"Stars above! Felix hired you? It's him, isn't it? I succeeded, I found something and now he's afraid. How much did he pay you to get close to me?"

Nina's gaze was surprised and enlightened, her green eyes glittered triumphantly. She surprised Maul with this question. He had to admit, the young woman proved to be a really good negotiator. She had this gift which she apparently used well.

He did not expect such a turn. Or is she just trying to confuse him?

“I was clearly wrong about you.” he said, implying that he thought she was a weak outsider, a beautiful but ordinary person on this planet. 

“It's okay, most people are. They underestimate what I'm capable of.” She held eye contact. 

Realization hit him. Nina won't say anything on her own. But she was clearly hiding something. The time for asking and answering questions has ended. This time, the Force is needed. Maul was annoyed, she was convoluted with her answers and his patience was running out. He was amazed that it had been this far at all.

He stepped closer until Nina was trapped between him and the stone wall. Nina looked back, the stone wall was up to her waist, behind her was only the dark abyss and night, the stars had already started to speckle the sky, the crescents of the moon provided enough light for her to see the male clearly. 

Damn those eyes! she cursed them. She had to force herself to look away. They were so captivating. So pretty. How could she not get hypnotized by them? 

The stone wall separated her from falling down into the chasm, the place where a few nearby waterfalls cascaded. She certainly wouldn't survive. The other way out is to somehow get them through Maul. This solution also seemed unrealistic, the man didn't hurt her, but Nina could feel the blood beating violently in her ears from the adrenaline and her lungs taking in more air.

With a light movement, he swept a few locks from her face, carefully avoiding her freshly bandaged wounds. Meanwhile, he noticed that several lighter freckles were hiding next to the darker ones.

"Are you afraid Starlight?" he asked, voice low but his tone was light and casual just like he was small talking about the weather, insignificant compared to what really interested him at the moment.

"Yes." she said honestly. "But not from you."

Maul lifted his brow. She licked her dry lips.

"More like, afraid of what you're capable of."

"You should be…  But. Do not fear Starlight, this will not hurt, if you let me in.” he said in a calm voice, cupping her face with his gloved hands. 

“What are you doing?”

He closed his eyes and concentrated. He felt her mental walls,as he smoothed the wall around, looking for a gap. They were still weak from the concussion, but he sensed some attempt at resistance, though he slipped in successfully.

This time he avoided the deeply buried memories, concentrating on searching for traces of his Master's presence, any sign that this was a trap. But he found nothing. Nina resisted and pushed him out of consciousness, even if a little clumsily, but Maul still appreciated her attempt more than anyone he'd ever faced. Compared to himself, he was gentle, he did not touch other areas, but there was something that Nina's mind revealed to him unintentionally. The man she was threatened by was her relative. This made her snap. 

A sudden movement jolted him out of his meditative state. She wanted to slap him, but he caught her wrist in the process. 

She was staring at him, she trembled with anger in every cell of her body. Maul couldn't get in deep or full, he saw what she allowed him. Even in weak conditions her mindfulness was strong. She lost her compliant calmness, and she fighted him. 

His hand wrapped around her throat the gold irises that pinned her down burnt like twin suns in the darkness of night. Nina’s hands tore his wrist from her, touching the small part where his cloak and leather gloves don't cover his skin. She shoved at the strong wall of his chest, yet, he didn’ move, he was way stronger than to be pushed by a weak woman like her.

“Don’t kriffing touch me like that”

He searched for her. She was frustrated. He slipped in her mind again, under that frustration he felt her panic, her post traumatic stress. Her attacker tried to suffocate her by squeezing her throat. It was still a fresh memory. She lived it through again now. It was playing on her mind like a holofilm. His expression softened. He slowly removed his hand, and whispered.

“Breathe.” his voice grounded her just like at the hospital. 

He didn’t feel his Master's presence in any way. This calmed him. But when he opened his eyes, he saw her.

Her face flushed, blooming red covered her freckles spreading towards her ears. Her jade green eyes turned dark. She stared at him and if looks could kill, he’d be a dead male by now. He had never seen her this beautiful before. Her beauty became ethereal for him, her anger oosed around them deliciously. Cold fire gleamed in her green eyes. 

“Don’t you ever do this again!” she told through gritted teeth.

Tension twisted between them like an invisible rope, he felt it, as it kept wrapping its limbs around his words and around his neck. It was maddening. Maul felt the urge to push her against the wall, fist her soft hair, claim her mouth and taste her and ignite a fire in his chest.

They were observing each other with cold gaze and anger. None of them had such warmth in their hearts.

“This isn’t the Jedi way!” she breathed hard, panting heavily. Ruby red blood dripped from her nose onto the ground. Probably the side effect of resisting Maul’s telepathic power. " I have to admit I don’t usually like Jedi, and you mister are certainly not fun to be around.”

“I’m no Jedi.” he sounded offended, almost harsh as he snapped at her.

“Says the man with the light saber. So you’re some kind of Force user then?” she raised a brow. 

“A specific kind of Force user.”

“What does this even mean?! So not only Jedi can use and connect to the Force?”

Silence. He made a statement, but didn't add anything to it, and Nina understood that it was a "Leave it !" kind of silence.

“Never mind. Did you at least find what you were looking for, if you've sneaked into my mind so brazenly?”

“Yes and no. I still don’t know what your motivation is.”

“Stars above! You don’t get it! ” she laughed at him. 

Maul lifted his brows; she was clearly a lunatic. Laughing in a Sith's face while it’s cornering her. To laugh in the face of darkness, power, death.

“You still don’t get it! You saw my memories, my thoughts and you couldn’t figure it out.” she was shaking while he still pinned her down. See was shaking from laughing, not from fear.

“You poor man. Here I am thinking he was the one who hired you to get me. Silly boy! I have no plans for you! I’m gonna have my revenge on someone that I used to call my father.”

Her voice was raspy but it dripped with contempt and pride. 

Maul didn't understand why he was so insecure about her. Nina clearly posed no physical threat to him. Nina merely existed in the orbit of her own life, completely independent of Maul's celestial body. Yet... Maul could still feel the gravitational pull between the two of them. He felt mesmerized, like the light of the night lights on a moth. He considered the approach dangerous, but he could not resist.

"So you really are insignificant."

It was a big mistake on Nina's part to make fun of him. Maul stabbed back mercilessly, unable to let the previous insults pass without a counter strike. And she might as well be thankful for him not using his light saber in the process. Nina went silent, stern. The light from her eyes faded. 

His sentence clearly hurt her. Deeply. He saw it in her eyes, yet the satisfaction never came to him. 

“I need space!” She stepped away creating a few steps between them. She thought about hurting him hard with a chair or something heavy. 

“Maybe you have power I will never understand nor carry, but one thing I understand clearly, that you truly are an asshole! We’re done here!” 

She passed by him and went away. He looked at her receding silhouette for a long time, never saying a word, only observing her. Again she left without permission and without fear.

Green eyes. Green dress. The symbol of life and nature.

He always thought red was a powerful color, the symbolism for power and destruction. But turned out green was his new fucking favorite color.

next chapter

Taglist: @stardustbee @hellhound5925 @cloneloverrrrr @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @firstofficerwiggles

Let me know if you want to be added 💖

[sl-newsie]

Cool Your Jets- Ch. 10: Stabbed (Riff x newcomer)

It’s not easy to slip through the streets. Everywhere I look I see cop cars patrolling everywhere, but they pay little attention to an innocent-looking girl walking the streets at night. One copper even calls out to say if I need a ride home, but I just smile and politely decline.

I follow the railroad tracks down to the trainyards, and up ahead I see Anybodys following Tony. Guess I’ll just follow everyone to the rumble.

I finally reach my destination: a metal warehouse. I see Tony and a Shark member slip in, and then Anybodys creeps in afterwards, but that leads me with no means of getting in myself. But when I look up I see a small window next to some crates, one big enough for me to squeeze through. After climbing the makeshift ladder I quietly sneak across the catwalk up in the warehouse rafters.

It’s a big warehouse, used for storing salt for winter roads. They keep the lights off, which only makes my vision on the situation worse. Another downfall is that the rumble’s already started, with Riff fighting Bernardo dead-on in the center of a circle-a both gangs.

Wait- is that a knife? They’re fighting with switchblades!

Quickly, I scramble down from the rafters and rush up to where Anybodys is hiding. Now that I’m closer I can see the fear in Riff’s eyes, like a caged animal. But he’ll never back down-

And just like that, Bernardo suddenly jerks forward and drives his knife right into Riff’s chest.

“NO!” I screech.

I try to struggle past a chainline fence but Anybodys pulls me back.

“No, Marilyn! You can’t-!”

“Watch me!” I hiss as I climb the fence and swing over.

Meanwhile Riff just stands there, looking between Bernardo and the switchblade in his chest. Slowly, he turns around to put a hand on Tony’s shoulder and shake his head.

“‘S ok. It’s ok.” Then he falls flat to the ground in a pile of blood, and I sprint over to kneel next to him.

It’s also nearly dead-quiet so you could hear a pin drop, until Tony’s eyes fill with murderous rage and he goes to jab Riff’s knife into Bernardo’s chest. I don’t pay attention to the violence that emerges all around me- all I can focus on is the life draining from Riff’s eyes. I hear police sirens blur in and out of my thinking, and the cops must be on their way because the two gangs start dispersing.

“I tried to stop him!” Tony sobs as he holds Riff’s hand. “I tried to talk with Bernardo-!”

“Tony, you gotta go! C’mon!” Anybodys drags Tony away, leaving only me with Riff.

Riff’s almost gone- I can see it.

When he sees me, he starts panicking.

“N-No- Marylin. You gotta leave- get outta here! Get-!” Riff goes off in a coughing fit and clutches his chest.

I rub his wrist and try to calm him down, already pushing my scarf against Riff’s bleeding wound. “Shh, shh. I ain’t going anywhere without you, Riff. But ya gotta breathe steady to keep your pulse down so ya don’t bleed out. Now-” I wrap my arms around his neck and legs. “I’m gonna carry you-” I grunt as I attempt to lift his nearly-dead weight.

“No- I’m too heavy. Just leave me and get outta here!” Riff moans. 

“I’ll be damned if I leave you to die alone here, Gariff Lorton!” A quick adrenaline rush helps me find extra energy and I begin to stagger towards the exit, but not before a police siren blares outside.

“Shit!” I huff as I frantically look for a way out. 

“Señorita! Over here!” 

I look over and see Juano holding a gate open. Quickly, I heave Riff’s limp body over and follow the Shark towards a scrap metal pile.

“We can’t stay here,” I pant as I gently lay Riff down. “I- I have to get Riff outta here! To a doctor!”

Juano shakes his head. “Señorita, you are too weak to carry him. Besides, the cops will arrest him if he lives.”

I glare at the Puerto Rican. “And I will not be able to live with myself if he dies! I’m taking him to a doctor!”

Beside me I hear Riff groan in pain. “N-No- Can’t go there- you’ll be caught-”

“Shh.” I lift Riff’s torso up so I can pick him up again. “It’s ok, Riff. I have a connection in the local clinic, and they won’t ask questions. Just- just stay alive long enough to get you stitched up.” I look up at Juano. “Will Bernardo be ok?”

He nods. “Last I knew they patched up the bleeding, but he was still unconscious when Pepe and the others carried him out.”

“Ok. Let me know if there’s any news. Not all the Sharks saw him get taken, so they think he’s still dead. Same with Riff. But part-a me thinks that if we let everybody know they lived then they’ll be want’n to set up another rumble. You know as well as I do that both Bernardo and Riff need to recuperate, so we should keep this quiet ‘til they’re patched up.”

Riff groans again, and I pick him up all the way.

“Hang on, Riff. It’ll only take a few minutes.” I try run’n as best I can towards the hospital.

¡Que Dios te acompañe! Godspeed, my friend!” Juano calls after me.

I hurry as fast as I can to the clinic, ducking in and out of alleys to avoid the cops- but they seem to all be swarming over the warehouse. When I get to the clinic I immediately flag down Josephina, and when she sees Riff her face freezes.

“Dear God! What happened?”

“Riff- he got stabbed,” I pant as I still try to hold up his dead weight. “Please, Josephine! You gotta help me stitch him up!”

She frowns. “He’s that Jet boy that’s always in trouble! Does he deserve another chance?”

“Josephina- please! I’ll pay whatever it costs, just please help him! I luv him!”

“I’m not talking about costs, chica. How many times does he have to learn his lesson?”

“He needs my help, and I’ll always regret it if I can’t save him!” I sob.

Josephina comes over to pat my shoulder and take some of Riff’s weight. “Shh, shh. Just get him on an operating table and I’ll get my supplies.”

I quickly wipe my face and lift Riff up again. “Thank you- thank you!” I set him on a table in a private room and start ripping off his blood-soaked clothes. It’s a simple but deep wound, which means it might be easier to close. God I hope his organs didn’t get pierced.

“Marilyn… Marilyn...” Riff slurs.

“It’s ok, Riff. We’re gonna stitch you up.”

“No… don’t…” He drifts off again.

Josephina comes back in and starts prepping the surgery equipment. Here we go…

After what seems like an eternity, we’ve finally gotten Riff fixed up as best we can. He’s still asleep, so I stay with him while Josephine goes to check on other patients. God, what a night. I sit in a chair across the room and start to drift off as the comforting sound-a Riff’s breathing lulls me to sleep…

“Ah!”

I jolt awake and remember where I am, then react to Riff’s scream.

He’s awake and try’n to sit up, look’n around and unsure of where he is. I quickly stand up and go over to the bedside.

“It’s ok, Riff! It’s ok! It’s me!”

“Lynnie? Marilyn... What happened? Where am I?”

“West Side Emergency Clinic. I brought you here after the rumble. God… you nearly died, Riff.”

“You- you didn’t leave me? Why- why did ya do that? You coulda just left me to die.”

“Well the Jets couldn’t tie their shoes without you, so I had to do someth’n.” I try to tease, but Riff won’t have it.

“Damn it, Marylin. I was supposed to die- I wanted to die!” He groans.

My face freezes. “What? Riff, you- you try’n to tell me that you were gonna commit suicide by gangfight? Why the Hell would you do that?!”

“You’ve heard what the cops say, Lynnie. Pretty soon all-a my turf is gonna be gone, and I’ll just be some poor bum in the streets without two nickels to rub togedda.”

“Life without the Jets is still life, Riff! There are odda things that give life meaning! You could get a job, see the woild- there’s so much opportunity but you’ve been so stubborn to ignore it! A dumb gang shouldn’t make you wanna die. Do you know how many people would miss you?” I fight back tears.

Riff huffs. “Not much. There’s kind’ve a grow’n list-a people that hate me, Lynnie.”

“Not everyone hates you, Riff. Tony was devastated when he saw you get stabbed, and right now he’s probably at Doc’s right now beat’n himself up over it ‘cause he still thinks you’re dead. And…” I take a deep breath and rethink one last time before I spill the truth. “I care too, Riff. Believe it or not, you helped me adjust to this big city life and if it’s selfish to want to keep the man I luv alive then God can send me to Hell!” I  choke down a sob.

There. That’s it. I told him, and now he’ll just start laugh’n.

“Marilyn... you luv me?”

I nod, unable to speak anymore.

Then, I nearly faint when I feel Riff’s hand touch my cheek. I look up with watery eyes and see him with a wide smile on his face. Not a tease’n one, one that makes him look as if he’s won a million bucks.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I gulp and try to look away again, but Riff won’t let me. “‘Cause I thought it was just me be’n a hopeless romantic and that you’d never want me around. I’d rather keep quiet and be your friend than spill my guts and have you hate me.”

“Oh, Lynnie.”

Riff gently grips my face and crashes his lips against mine, causing me to gasp in surprise. He leans back again and smirks. “What? You didn’t think I ever thought-a you as just a friend, didja?”

I moan and pull his shirt to smash our faces togedda again. “Who told you to stop?”

Riff’s eyes brighten and he pulls me into the bed with him in a big hug. 

“God, I don’t wanna leave you, Lynnie. I didn’t think anyone would ever care or notice if I suddenly fell dead in the dirt, and right now you’re the only one I’d miss. You sweet, wonderful goil.”

I try to answer, but I just start smiling and leaking tears of joy.

“I’m never letting you go to another rumble again, Jet Boy.

(Could We Start Again, Please? from Jesus Christ Superstar)

I've been living to see you

Dying to see you

But it shouldn't be like this

This was unexpected

What do I do now?

Could we start again, please?

I've been very hopeful, so far

Now, for the first time

I think we're going wrong

Hurry up and tell me

This is just a dream

Or could we start again, please?

I think you've made your point now

You've even gone a bit too far to get the message home

Before it gets too frightening

We ought to call a halt

So, could we start again, please?”

When I finish, Riff’s looking at me with a tired, grateful smile, and it suddenly occurs to me just how exhausted he must be.

“Riff, you should get some sleep-” I try to lay him down.

“Oh no, I can’t sleep after I just learned the goil I’m sweet on luvs me back!”

I shake my head. “Riff, you’ve lost a lotta blood. You’re too weak to sit up, let alone walk. Just lay down and get some sleep.”

The Jet leader thinks for a minute, then says; “Alright. But only if you come sleep next to me.”

He pats a spot on the bed next to him and looks at me with a giddy smile. 

I sigh. “You won’t go to sleep willingly unless I agree, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Fine,” I smile as I gently settle down next to Riff, careful not to touch his bandages. “If you need anything, just wake me up.”

Riff doesn’t answer. He just holds my hand and lays his head back with a blissful look on his face, as if he’s finally at peace.

“I luv you, Lynnie.”

I’m startled at the comment, but it feels… right.

“I luv you too, Jet Boy.”

[ipsen]

How do you think Shuu and Eto would interact?

lucky for you, i have a draft sitting in my... drafts demonstrating this ever so slightly. takes place shortly after re 57. enjoy!

---

“Even a ghoul can’t survive from this height.”

If only it were that simple, Eto thought, as she tumbled through open air, half a body and bleeding out.

Her kagune burst out and latched onto a nearby building, slowing her fall. As she slid, the mouths spoke in hushed tones, just loud enough for her to hear.

“Idiot.” “Eto.” “Corpse.” “Not yet.” “Almost!” “Excited…”

Tendrils burst out of her torso to make ‘legs’, then her skin slowly crept over it. Shards of glass and crumbled bricks bounced harmlessly off her skin until she made it to the bottom.

She glanced up at the top of Lunatic Eclipse. “Bon appétit,” she muttered, smirking to herself.

She looked down at herself, the fresh skin all red and raw and exposed, and realized she’d left him her coat too. Maybe he’d use it to wipe off the blood soaking his hair. Or not.

Either way, it wasn’t like she was going to use it anyway; she wasn’t going to be hiding for much longer. She’d tossed away her floral scarf for a similar reason, passing it on to a shivering stranger when they were asleep— If she wasn’t going to use it, better to give it to someone who would. 

Still, it was rather chilly tonight. A mark of change in the narrative: the return of reality for Ken Kaneki.

One of her kakuhou— the one situated at the small of her back— unfurled to make a kilt to maintain some semblance of dignity. The RC cells linked together like chain mail and then overlapped in broad strokes of red tissue and muscle.

She spotted two objects— her last project and his darling— falling from the top of the building. She caught bits and pieces of Kanae’s final confession before flinging the Gourmet to safety.

Eto smiled and shook her head. Kaneki could hide it all he wanted, but he was still a kind boy under that frigid demeanor. She sighed, hoofing it over; what was she going to do with him?

Following the fresh potholes in the streets, she found the Gourmet half-conscious and collapsed against a rack of abandoned bikes. Oh, dear, she thought, noting his legs bent in the wrong direction and the gaping hole in his chest. That wouldn’t do, either.

Her wounds had already begun to close; a shame, but no matter. She formed a short kagune from her shoulder and sliced it off, approaching Tsukiyama.

“Eat up,” she said, tossing the meal into his lap. “It’s a long walk where you’re going.”

He groaned in response, then sat up and let the meal fall onto the ground. “You…?” he rasped. “Kanae… Why did you…?”

(“you monster”)

“Is that what you’re going to fixate on? I’m throwing you a bone here, as a favor to your actual favorite.” She squatted in front of him, chin in her hands. “Kanae missed you so much while you were out galavanting with Ken Kaneki, Monsieur. Yet even after you abandoned him for a human ghoul, he still went through all that trouble just to see you happy. He’s even dead now because of you.”

Tsukiyama couldn’t even get up in his state, but she could taste the heat of his anger. “I… I…”

“Come to think of it, this whole thing is your fault, isn’t it? Your voracious habits and descent into despair all caused this. And yet, here you are! A survivor. Kudos are in order.” She stood back up and felt her toes grow back in. “Your whole family sacrificed themselves for you. Will you join them? After all, you’re the cause.”

“I won’t die.” Tsukiyama seized the kagune and devoured it. “Not yet. This body is not just mine now…”

Oh, good. Eto wasn’t wasting her time.

“It belongs to everyone who gave their life for me, and everyone I have ever eaten…” His legs snapped back in place, and he struggled to his feet. “I’m going to live, as long as I can…”

She grinned and pointed. “Then head down that way. There’s less Doves there.”

And, if the hint of a familiar stench told her anything, help was there too.

[ahawkinhallownest]

There was once a Wyrm, mighty and wise who slept among the mountains as the worn blue flag she wore upon her horn flapped in the alpine wind. Her coils wound around ancient rocky spires as she dreamed of a land unlike her own, one filled with mortal creatures of all shapes and sizes. She saw a town that sat in the protective shadow of two towers that pierced the sky, where the body of a long deceased Root took on a life of its own and became a sacred tree that purified the ground and air. Bugs of every kind walked through the streets, from Bees to Ants to Beetles, all ignorant of the Void brewing beneath their feet. As the ground cracked open and unleashed a hoard of dark creatures, the bugs fled into their houses, only for their doors to be torn down and for them to be dragged out and killed. Some ran to the tree, and while the sacred aura of the towering arbor kept the dark monsters at bay, it would only be a matter of time before the tree too would wither and die as the ground became polluted with Void.

What started as a pleasant dream about bugs had quickly turned into a nightmare of death and destruction, but there seemed to be a single glimmer of hope. A blonde-maned Moth wearing a crimson scarf his way fought through the horde with a golden Pure Nail in one hand and a magic nailgun in the other. He slaughtered as many as he could until he was able to make his way out of the village, where he was able to spread his wings and take to the sky. Where he intended on going was unknown to the Wyrm, for she woke before she could see where it was.

Something had entered her territory, stirring her from her slumber. Vibrations from feet as her uninvited guest climbing cliffs and mountains and the subtle shift in air currents as wings flapped directed her attention to near the border of the mountain range. The ground lurched as the Wyrm unwound her elongated body from the pinnacles of her mountains, with boulders tumbling down their slopes as she began slithering down, careful not to allow the flag she wore on her horn to catch on any debris. Her tremorsense afforded her an accurate map of every inch of ground in her domain, and she was able to easily locate the intruder.

A blonde-maned Moth wearing a crimson scarf stood before her, eyes wide in both terror and fascination. “I have been waiting for you, Ringo of San Miguel.” She rumbled, her voice shaking the ground below her as she loomed over the insect. “You come seeking my aid.”

“I have, but how did you know?” Ringo replied, jaw dropping at the realization that she had him completely figured out.

“Have you forgotten? I am a Wyrm, dearest golden one.” The Wyrm wormed her tail towards Ringo and placed it behind him, blocking off his ground route to escaping her if she were to attack. In spite of the obvious threat, he remained firm, afraid as he was. “I knew you were coming all along. I had dreamed about you.”

“You did?”

She nodded her huge, horned head. “I had been waiting so long for you.” She leaned in, her mandibles so massive that they could crunch through boulders with ease. “You are brave for coming all the way here to seek my help in saving your homeland.”

“Well,” Ringo started and took a defiant step forward with his hands balled up into fists. “If you know why I’m here, will you help us? My home is being attacked by monsters from underground, and we can’t fight them off by ourselves!” He reached out to her pleadingly. “Please, you have to!”

“Be calm, dearest golden one.” She raised the fan of uropods at the end of her tail to get his attention. “I will agree to join you in your crusade, for I have also dreamed that you will succeed with my help. But I ask for one thing in return.”

Ringo eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed in confusion. “You want something from me?”

“It’s only natural, is it not? No one does anything for free, even you should know that.” The Wyrm leaned down, her colossal mandibles becoming a deadly cage to prevent the Moth from escaping. Though he was afraid, he kept his eyes on her face. “I only ask that you do something very important for me...”

Mani is a wyrm in this alternate world, which is basically the Hollow Knight setting’s equivalent of a dragon. She’s big, she’s purple, and she has lunar markings, and when she turns into a mortal bug later on, she becomes a luna moth, thus continuing her lunar aesthetic. She even has the blue scarf that Sabat would eventually wear on her horn, a small detail I was happy to somehow work into this design, though I describe it as an old flag. I wonder where the flag came from?

[writingwithjade]

In pursuit of the fragile heart

Chapter 2

Primrose drops her belongings on the floor as she walks to her bed, plopping down onto the soft, cozy blanket. She doesn’t care to take off her shoes, or that her manuscripts are scattered on the floor, she just wants to stay here, unbothered by her surroundings.

The scarf around her neck feels warm and fluffy. The greyish color reminds her of those beautiful eyes, the silver orbs shine brightly like the stars in the sky. Even to this day, she is still captivated by them. Never in her life has Primrose thought about seeing him again, and yet, this scarf and the warmth that still lingers around her prove her wrong…

Caleb Vatore…

Just the thought of his name makes her face heat up…

She remembers very well, those memories of many years ago when she was just a teenager attending a summer camp in Glimmerbrook, meeting Caleb for the first time.

If she had to describe their situation back then, Primrose would say that they had been through thick and thin together. From healing his wound to joining his quest to save his friend, Inna Cent, to celebrate their victory after defeating Professor Thebe. They have been through them all…

And during that time together, Primrose developed feelings for him. How could she not? He was the one who took her in after she was being chased by Professor Thebe, aiding her on the quest to find Marlin Ember and helping her destroy Thebe’s wicked plan to turn the magic town of Glimmerbrook into the blood bank of house Straud. With Caleb by her side, she felt like she could conquer everything. His kindness and how he cared for her, the tenderness in his eyes whenever he patted her head gently, how safe she felt whenever he pulled her into a hug. Everything he did made her feel so special, so loved…

Caleb Vatore was her first love…

But falling in love with him was her mistake…

He said no to her feelings but never gave her a reason. He told her that he couldn’t accept them, even though he was grateful that she loved him. Her heart shattered into pieces upon hearing this and then, the next morning, Caleb was no longer with her. He left before she could say goodbye, telling L.Faba and Marlin that it would be better if they hadn’t met.

The intensity of her heartbreak was too much to bear to the point Primrose could no longer attend classes at Glimmerbrook School of Magic. So she went home, crying in her mom’s arms as she mended her broken heart. But even when many years have passed by, somewhere in her heart still holds a small space for him.

“I’m crazy…” she murmurs under her breath, hanging onto the scarf tightly “I am crazy…”

She is crazy to believe that he came to see her after all these years. There is a fire light up in her heart, warm and cozy, something that she has pushed aside and ignored for too long. However, the way Caleb appeared in front of her, saying that he misses her dearly, something about that doesn’t sit right and it would be a lie if she said that it’s not painful to see him.

Too painful that she thought she might burst into tears in front of him…

But Primrose is proud of herself, she has to keep her dignity and it is not worth wasting her tears on the man who abandoned her years ago. She needs to keep her mind straight, she can’t allow herself to be the victim anymore. This peaceful life of hers, he doesn’t have the right to enter and be a part of it, and Primrose will make sure that he stays out of it.

She will make sure he can never enter her life anymore…

************************************************************************ The first thing Caleb sees when he walks into his mansion is his sister’s beautiful chocolate orbs shining with hope, the hope that her brother is able to find the woman of his life.

“Caleb!” Lilith walks up to him, behind her is a young man around her age whom she calls her husband, Kian “How was it? Did you find her?”

“Yeah, I did…”

The smile on his face is rueful as he trails off, slipping off his long coat and giving it to the butler.

“Thank you, Richard.”

“Of course, my lord.” the elderly man nods his head “I will prepare some tea. A good cup of chamomile will surely chase away those negative thoughts of yours.”

Caleb chuckles as he sits on the elegant burgundy sofa, watching his younger sister and her husband settle down on the opposite side of the coffee table.

“How was it? Did she say anything?” Lilith’s face beams up “She must be very happy to see you, yeah?”

“Lilith, calm down. Caleb can’t answer anything if you keep asking him questions.” Kian sweatdrops, tapping his wife lightly on her shoulders.

“O-of course…” she blushes at his comment “Sorry brother, I got a little too excited…”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. Besides, it’s not like she is happy to see me…”

Lilith bites her bottom lips, knowing that her excitement is inappropriate for his situation right now. She can see how those silver eyes are filled with sadness and disappointment as if he is blaming himself for everything that has happened up to now. She hates to see her brother sad, he has sacrificed everything for this family, for everyone around him, and for the world of vampires to live peacefully with humans once again.

When the war between house Vatore and house Straud broke out, Caleb left behind all his dreams and ambitions to devote himself fully to the future of his family. And along with those dreams, he let go of the person he loves and holds dearly to his heart, the young girl he met at Glimmerbrook when he was rescuing Inna Cent.

Caleb, with his vision of living peacefully with humans and no longer relying on human blood to survive, was too progressive for an old vampire lord like Vladislaus Straud to handle. To Vladislaus, humans were only mere blood sources, a weak species that deserved no respect from them. However, house Vatore’s idea became more prominent in the vampire world and Caleb rose to become an important figure, Vladislaud knew that only a war could settle the differences, once and for all.

A civil war broke out between House Vatore and House Straud, a battle to determine whose ideas would influence the next generation of vampires of years to come.

During such a critical time, Caleb had to put his family and people above everything, even if it meant casting away his own feelings for his beloved Primrose. No matter how deep and genuine his love for her was, it was not the right time for both of them. On top of that, Primrose was a human and to have a dhampir as the next heir of the family would throw house Vatore into another chaos, so Caleb chose to let her go.

Lilith remembers very well when his friends came and tried to talk him out of that silly crush of his. It was when they got home after the successful rescue mission and Inna Cent called out his feelings for Primrose, believing that the love he had for her would cause a huge outrage and demoralize their army.

While the decision to leave Primrose lies solely on Caleb, Lilith can’t help but want to blame his friends too. Those who force her brother to push aside his own needs and feelings and then have the nerve to introduce him to many female vampires to ensure a pureblood heir for the Vatore family.

“Don’t worry, Caleb. I’m sure she will open her heart to you eventually…”

Kian looks at his brother-in-law, offering an encouraging smile. But his comment doesn’t make Caleb feel any better. The way Primrose’s eyes look at him, he can see how agonizing they are, as if she is looking at a ghost. To appear in front of her many years after their separation, he is not proud of himself for scaring her like that.

“I will go to bed now, it has been a long day…”

“Of course, Caleb. You deserve a good rest.”

Lilith’s brown eyes glued on her brother’s back, sighing. Even when he is able to protect his family and people, even when he is praised to be the hero coming out of the civil war, even when he has many people who would lie down their lives for him, Caleb always looks so lonely, as if no one can understand the pain he carries in his heart.

“Don’t worry, Lilith. Caleb is more capable of dealing with this.”

Knowing his wife’s worries, Kian steps in with words of advice, smiling as he plants a kiss on her cheek.

“But Kian, how can I not worry? Caleb, he’s…” Lilith’s voice trails off, not knowing what to say.

It hurts her to see that somber look in her older brother’s eyes, the pain and disappointment that have haunted him for so many years, the guilt of leaving the person he holds dear to his heart and now, seeking for that person’s forgiveness.

“Lilith, the way to one’s heart is not an easy path to walk on. You know that, right…?” Kian’s lilac eyes shine a light of understanding “Caleb will be alright. He is more than ready to take on this task, remember?”

“I guess you’re right…”

************************************************************************ Caleb closes the door behind him, running his hand through his hair and sighing heavily. The young vampire lord lays on the bed, ignoring the possibility of his clothes getting wrinkly. It is only behind the door of his private quarters that Caleb is able to strip off his professionalism and become more mundane with his life.

His body, despite its lack of natural heat, is surprisingly warm. The lingering of her apple scent is surprisingly soothing. His vampire nature gives him an enhanced sense of smell, which sometimes can be quite troublesome, especially when he is in a party setting, where the heavy perfume worn by the ladies can give him a headache.

But Primrose’s bright apple scent is different, maybe it’s because she only puts a little bit of perfume on herself, or maybe it’s her natural fragrance. Either way, it’s nice and soothing, and it keeps lingering on his clothes.

Primrose…

She has changed so much since the last time he saw her. But then again, it has been years since that day.

Her previous short hair is now reaching her waist, shining and lush. Her midnight-colored eyes shine bright like the sea of celestials in the sky, yet they hold a dreaded expression upon seeing him. The sweet and innocent face she had years ago is now replaced by a more mature and complex look, the light makeup adds a touch of color to her porcelain skin.

Primrose is no longer the little girl he knew years ago, she is an adult, a beautiful young woman…

But if there is anything that stays the same, it’s probably Primrose’s height. Her petite stature is a stark contrast to the mature and alluring vibe around her.

The thought draws out a chuckle from him…

But the reality is hitting him, that dreaded look on her face, how terrified she was upon seeing him, how she looked like she was going to cry. Primrose didn’t want to see him…

Caleb can’t blame her, he knows the pain he caused her. He was the one who chose to deny her feelings and left without saying anything. For a young girl at the age between teenage and adulthood, the rejection hurts Primrose deeply.

It was for the sake of his people that he had made that choice, a choice that had left Primrose heartbroken. Even when he had reasons for what he did, to Caleb, they were unacceptable.

He could have done it a different way, but the thought of seeing her again the morning after rejecting her feelings made his stomach turn, so Caleb left. The rejection and abandonment cause Primrose her heartbreak to the point that she can not continue her studies at Glimmerbrook. Caleb knows about this because it was Marlin who informed him about this. If it wasn’t for Marlin Ember, Caleb would never be able to find Primrose.

For the fire sage to set aside his irritation and give Caleb a second chance to redeem himself, the vampire lord is forever grateful.

After the civil war ended and he ascended the hierarchy ladder to become the most influential vampire lord of the supernatural world, Caleb found himself always looking out to the window with guilt slowly eating him. He had never forgiven himself for doing that to her. Days turned into months, months turned into years, and Caleb still yearned to see her again.

Lilith, his forever supportive little sister, told him to face reality and follow the calling of his heart. Caleb hesitated at first, but the thought of seeing her again lighted a warm fire inside him, something that no woman had been able to do.

He wanted to see her, he yearned to meet her, his lovely raven head...

Inna Cent, his friend, tried to reason with him but no more would Caleb allow anyone to dictate his heart. He had followed her advice and left Primrose heartbroken, while his action was for the greater good, he hurt her, the woman that Caleb swore to always protect.

Caleb contacted Marlin Ember, an acquaintance of his and Primrose, and asked about her whereabouts. There were scoffing and sneering here and there, but the blond mage gave in and asked him to come to Glimmerbrook School of Magic if he wanted to learn more about Primrose. Caleb accepted the request.

Upon arrival, he is greeted by a nonchalant Marlin Ember and a disappointed L.Faba. They told him everything they knew about Primrose, her heartbreak, her decision to leave Glimmerbrook, and her request to learn magic under them instead, they let him know it all. To Caleb, these were valuable intel but at the same time, they were also the constant reminder of the pain he caused her.

Marlin agreed to give him Primrose’s location, but L.Faba fought against it, believing that Caleb had no right to know anything after his grave mistake. She refused to let him hurt her precious student again. But the fire sage stepped in and offered a piece of advice for Lumera, telling her that what Caleb did was valid due to the intensity of the civil war at that time.

Lumera, still holding skepticism over Caleb’s wish to see Primrose again, knew that she could not argue her husband out of this, decided to drop the topic and left angrily. But before she teleported away, Lumera gave Caleb a warning of what she would do if he hurt Primrose again. The venomous look in her deep purple eyes is as if I can strike him down immediately.

And now, finally able to see her after years of longing almost makes Caleb acts on his own instinct, to whisk her away and tell her how much he misses her and how sorry he is for breaking her heart. But the young lord knows that it takes more than just a few heartfelt words to work things out between them.

The scar he has left in her heart is undeniable, the pain that even after so many years passed by still resides in her mind. Caleb is not a fool to be oblivious to this, he too holds onto the guilt of leaving her. Primrose has never been a good liar, his lovely raven head is someone who wears her heart in her sleeves.

When she tells him to leave her alone, those pretty onyx orbs have betrayed her. The vampire lord can see through her lies, that spark of affection still resides in the depths of her eyes, longing but also afraid. She is afraid of this, of his sudden appearance, of what can possibly happen between them, of how she can not endure another heartbreak. The once beautiful bud of blossom finally grows, but her growth is nothing but agonizing and despairing, as the lovely flower – Primrose – is fragile and vulnerable. Her heart, guarded by many layers of walls, protects its owner from the potential pain and heartache.

Caleb knows that he can't rush this delicate process of rebuilding what he has broken. Primrose needs time to process what is going on and he has to earn her trust again. But despite the future hardship of his quest for Primrose’s heart, Caleb is determined to do whatever it takes to make amends for the pain he has caused and give her the love Primrose truly deserves.

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 51: Pathetic

MONDAY - WINTER 1

Achilles had spent the last day of Fall in bed, rising once to use the restroom and once to clean out Voltaire’s litter box. 

Shane had come a-knocking in the afternoon—to collect the last harvest of the season, no doubt—but Achilles, half-asleep, had only tossed the cigarette he’d been smoking into the ash tray on the floor and punched his pillow. The man needed neither him nor his approval for whatever farm-related task was at hand. Shane knew what he was doing, better than Achilles ever did, that was for sure… 

The fresh start Fall had once foreshadowed had petered out, to be replaced by a terribly drastic decrease in both temperature and mood. Achilles had already wasted his second day of being 28, and was quite a bit inclined to waste another. But plans and promises made by a more functional Achilles of seasons past were now waiting to be fulfilled, and he had little choice but to drag himself out of bed before the dawn of a late rising Winter sun. 

Today was to be his final visit to Meteor Elementary and his somehow still-stubborn pride wouldn’t allow him to let Penny down. 

Besides, perhaps it would be good to get out, right? Be… somewhat productive. 

Right. You tell yourself that… 

After deciding he didn’t really need to shave, he tugged on a scarf, grabbed his messenger bag from the back of his chair, and hurriedly made for the kitchen to scoop some more food into Voltaire’s automatic feeder before heading out. 

“Meow.”

“Yeah, yeah, go meow yourself,” Achilles grumbled, chucking his early morning cigarette into the sink. “Chill, I’m not bringing it to the school, who do you think I am?” 

To emphasize his point to the cat, he withdrew the lighter from his pea coat pocket and slid it across the kitchen table. It was just a plastic little thing, part of the “mental breakdown emergency supply kit” that he always kept under the bed (it was also where the cigarettes had come from), and it ricocheted off the edge of the typewriter that he and Alex had placed there three days before. 

It was still in its packaging. Still untouched.

Achilles paused to study the box, a small frown on his face. 

And then he left, slamming the door behind him. 

*****

The children had been sorry to see him go.

Earlier in the Fall, he had offered to have the students’ stories professionally bound by one of his old contacts in the industry, but the slim paperbacks would be mailed directly to the school, and so today’s visit was to be his last.

It had been tough to sound alive, when all he wanted to do was return to his bed. But he sat himself down on the stool at the front of the classroom, feeling like an open wound and yet plastering on a smile. He even managed to flash a thumbs up to little Jacob Carney who complimented his six day old stubble, and answered any final questions from the enthusiastic crowd with as jovial a tone as he could muster before handing back his final edits and notes to each of the students. 

They had been sweet. Had gifted him a small, potted crocus flower, a handwritten card, and a bevy of hugs when it was time to go. He would miss them, he was sure. But the brief elation those clamoring kids had inspired was quickly soured by a new thought. 

Really just can’t help but miss even the tiniest bit of attention, can you? Pathetic. 

*****

Take the bus back. Grab food. Go home. Three bullet points to check off in his brain. Simple. Easy.

He flung up his hood as he shuffled into Pelican Town. It was scarcely past noon and already getting much too cold for his comfort. He’d done his research, he knew Winters in Zuzu could be tough… at least, compared to those in Hyacinthia and Monstera…

Soup would be nice. Maybe a grilled cheese… Did Gus make tuna melts? Ooh with a slice of tomato… sourdough bread and extra sharp cheddar… 

“Achilles! Oh, how are you holding up, my dear?” 

“Ah.” With a start, Achilles turned to his right—he hadn’t removed his hood when he’d entered the Stardrop Saloon, and had to fully pivot to make out Evelyn standing beside him at the bar. “I’m… doing well. And yourself, Evelyn?” 

“I’m doing very well, dear, thank you for asking! Oh, and how lovely it is to see you up and about, George and I were just so concerned after Spirit’s Eve, now, weren’t we? Alex had mentioned the maze had been an awful fright for him this year. Now I’ve said this to Lewis before and I said it to him again…”

Achilles smiled wearily and turned back to the counter, but Evelyn continued to prattle on.

“…now George and I have got a rare evening alone tonight! I thought it might be nice to surprise him and order something special for dinner. No one fries mushrooms better than Gus.” 

“Oh? Is Alex not around? I was thinking of—” He cut himself off. What was he thinking of? Surely nothing. Must’ve been a slip of the tongue, something out of habit. To be honest, he hadn’t allowed Alex to occupy much of his thoughts lately, not since Spirit’s Eve. 

“I’m afraid not, dear. He likely won’t be back until quite late, he’s got a big date of his own tonight, I believe! Were you looking for him?” 

A big date? 

Gus had returned with the rather large order Achilles had placed, but as he clutched the steaming boxes, he found he hadn’t much of an appetite; the plastic containers burned his fingertips, but the pain felt strangely distant. 

“Oh. I see. No, that’s quite all right—”

“I can let him know you were looking for him—”

Achilles cut her off with another tight-lipped smile. “It’s nothing important.” It was nothing at all. “Just… was simply thinking of going for a run. Thought he might want to join.” 

“Oh, yes, you boys and your runs.” Evelyn patted Achilles’ hand as Gus returned to the kitchen. “He can’t join today, but you stay warm, dear! And do stay safe—the paths can be quite slippery in the Winter, especially the bridges.” 

“Of course. Thank you, Evelyn.”

He nodded curtly, left the saloon, and returned home. 

Check, check, check. 

[cooltrainererika]

Alt-talia: Keep Calm

@royalredbrosweek

For Day 1: Historical

So this is an old fic I wrote, being reposted as it’s own because it used to be part of a compilation (“Bloody”, if any are interested in the rest; warning though, it’s incredibly dark). Because I’m lazy! Yaaaaayyy!

Seriously I really want to elaborate on these two but I can’t come up with any at this moment. Except for maybe like one fic.

It probably, hopefully, still holds up, though it’s the most mid of the compilation.

First thing I’d like to note; this is semi-AU. The characters act kind of differently. England here is hardly the tsundere he is in canon, he’s more an unflappable kuudere with consummate Stiff Upper Lip.

Second; TW, there’s Blood. Also bombing and war. While this fic is relatively lighthearted, it is somewhat dark humor.

—————————————————————————

The Battle of Britain had been raging for days; and Canada was growing worried.

The bombing had just begun and it was bad; quite bad. He had finished ushering another contingent of civilians into bunkers and tunnels, following the signs that now covered the city, hopefully safe from the fire and fury that rained upon what used to be their homes.

“Ah, Canada-“

And there his father was.

His head, a good part of of his face, and neck covered in blood.

Matthew just barely held back a scream.

“Father, your head is covered in blood, can you not see that?! Please take it easy!”

“Ah, this?” He was terribly serene, but that was punctuated with a cough.

“Terribly irritating, I must say-“ more hacking coughs “-Jerry, that nuisance. The blood is stinging my eyes-“

And with an especially painful-sounding cough, he hacked up an unmistakable red liquid.

Canada’s face paled as it stained his uniform.

“Ah, sorry for your uniform-“

“GOOD GOD! …Sorry at the outburst, but how can you call that ‘terribly irritating’?!”

The Blitz had indeed been affecting him; however, his face, as usual, was calm, as if he had a somewhat annoying cold.

More bombs fell, and again he coughed red, making Canada flinch.

He had never seen his father this hurt; the cliffs of Dover had protected him since the time of the Norman Conquest, and he probably hadn’t experienced this much damage, especially in his capital city, in that long a time.

But yet…

“A mere few square kilometers destroyed, is all…”

“MERE?!”

“We are nations, Canada. And can you not shout? I’m quite fine, thank you.”

He took off his scarf, compressing his wound.

“I shall get back in the air in two hours now. You need to take flight soon too, lad. Chop-chop.”

Matthew, the personification of the Dominion of Canada, sighed loudly.

“I’m not a ‘lad’ anymore father.”

His father chuckled.

“You are finally growing up, Canada.”

Even after all these centuries, his father’s ability to seemingly be unfettered by anything always never ceased to surprise him.

“I could use an ale now, however.”

“Father! Please!”

As he had been outside, guiding the citizens to their bunkers, many had been just like him.

Maybe, the best way to spite the enemy was this after all; to show that you wouldn’t be affected by their attempts to break them, that no matter what, they would always remain as they always had been.

After all, his father hadn’t become the largest empire the world had ever seen for no reason.

——————————————————-

Canada might have wanted more autonomy, but he still values his father and his approval a lot, let’s say that.

I really love writing Alt-England sometimes because of how much of an unflappable gentleman he can be. It can be funny. But yet when some things happen or he’s drunk he reverts to his more canon-adjacent self.

Also look, Canada inherited the tendency to say “sorry” a lot! How cute.

[violet-yimlat]

Honestly I’m not sure if anyone is even reading these anymore so prepare for a drop in quality lol.

Lucifer! (But he’s unconscious for half the chapter)

Aaron! (You haven’t met him yet)

Amelia! (Doing surgery but you don’t really get to see that because I don’t know how to write that)

Chapter five

Amelia Butler had heard the legends, but she was more concerned about the screams.

She had already gotten her phone out. Whether she was going to have to call the police or an ambulance was yet to be determined, but she was prepared either way.

She tentatively stuck her head into the alleyway.

Oh God.

There was a body.

It was a young man, tall, thin, pale, but pale like a corpse—which may very well be what he was. The reason was obvious. He had a huge puncture wound to his abdomen.

She was going to have to act fast.

She called emergency services immediately after scanning the scene for any danger to herself. If she was injured, she wouldn’t be able to help anyone.

She knelt beside the man slumped against the wall and set her phone down beside her on speaker mode.

The calm, almost bored voice of the operator crackled out of the phone.

“Emergency services, what service do you require?”

“Ambulance.”

In the moment between the general operator hanging up and passing her call to the ambulance dispatcher, Amelia took the first aid kit out of her bag, put on rubber gloves and patted down the body of the young man to check for injuries. Part of was smug that her over preparedness had paid off, but she had to focus. He only had one wound, but it was big and deep, going in one side of his abdomen and out the other. His pulse was extremely weak and fast. He had lost a lot of blood.

“Click” went the phone.

She started to talk.

“Hello. I’m in an alley with a young man who has been stabbed through the abdomen. He looks to be in his mid twenties but he’s unresponsive so I can’t be sure. He’s losing a lot of blood. I’m putting pressure on the wound with bandages and sterile pads.”

After this, the dispatcher asked her a few more questions about the incident, her location and the casualty.

“An ambulance will be there in ten minutes. Don’t hang up.”

After about five minutes, the blood began to seep through the bandages. Amelia took off her scarf and wrapped it tightly around the man. After thirteen minutes, the ambulance arrived.

The nearest hospital was a ten minute walk from that alley, which Amelia knew because that’s where she had walked there from. It was a further seven minutes from there to her apartment, where she had been aiming to go before incident had occurred.

So Amelia was going back to her place of work so that one of her colleagues could operate on the man she found bleeding out in the street. He would need stitches, surgery to deal with internal bleeding and a blood transfusion, and even then, he might not survive.

It was a very busy night at the hospital. They were a bit understaffed and the moment, so Amelia wasn’t surprised when she had to be there one to deal with the young man. She hurriedly changed into her medical scrubs and checked the chart that had been compiled in the five minutes it had taken her to do so.

She got to work.

***

White.

Lucifer opened his eyes to see white.

Bright, cool white.

He began to panic.

He tried to sit up.

He yelped with agony.

Where was he. Why was he there. How did he get there? Was he even alive?

Calm down. Figure it out.

What did he last remember?

Pain.

Well obviously, idiot, he thought to himself. What else?

A person hurrying towards him while he was lying down in the alley.

And why were you lying in the alley?

Because he had been stabbed.

Yes, keep going. Why were you stabbed?

Well that’s a little victim-blamey.

Fine then. Who stabbed you?

Uhhhh…

He began to panic again.

Stop that. You’re not dead. You’re being over dramatic. Look around. Take stock of your surroundings.

There were tubes both around and, to his disgust, in him. They were in his left arm which he could see because he was tilted to his left. There were things going “beep” at fairly regular intervals.

He noticed that his clothes were gone and he sighed. He had really liked that waistcoat. Human made fabrics seemed to be somewhat corroded demon blood, not to mention the huge hole that was stabbed in it. He was wearing some kind of papery-fabric robe with nothing but bandages underneath.

He struggled through the pain and managed to flip himself over. There was a small bedside table with a lamp, a glass of water and, most exciting of all, a button.

It was round and white and had a picture of a bell on in. That was slightly annoying. Lucifer didn’t like bells. They always gave him a headache and half the time if they were being rung near him, it was a specific effort to make him go away.

He weakly pushed the button.

It went “Bong”.

Nothing happened for a few minutes.

He tried to drink the water but he fumbled the thin plastic cup and spilled it all over himself.

“Ah, fuck!”

“Good afternoon, sir.” Said… someone. Young, male, stifling giggles over his unusual greeting.

“Yes. Good afternoon. The afternoon is good, because I’m not dead.”

The young man giggled again and kept walking towards him pausing momentarily to pick up a white towel.

“At least I don’t think I’m dead. This isn’t Heaven, is it?”

He winked at the towel-carrier, who blushed profusely.

Lucifer glanced at his lanyard and picked up two important pieces of information.

The young man was called Aaron, and he was a nurse.

“I’m sorry, but am I in a hospital?”

Lucifer had been in a hospital before. Not for many years and not always for non-nefarious reasons, but he had never been admitted to one, though.

“Yes sir.”

“And can you please tell me why I’m in a hospital?”

“I’m not entirely sure of the full story, but what I was told happened is that on her way home, Amelia —she’s actually the surgeon who operated on you and saved your life— found you in an alley, so she called the ambulance, did first aid, then came back to the hospital with you and saved you! Most of us thought you weren’t going to make it, honestly. It was a real miracle.”

Lucifer laughed sardonically.

“Miracles indeed. It sounds more like a case of competence. Now if I may ask, what exactly has been done to me?”

Aaron giggled again.

“It should say on this chart here.”

He flipped through it, reading aloud.

“So your original injury was a stab wound, but a sword stab which isn’t something I’ve ever seen before. Who even uses swords anymore? Anyway, you needed stitches inside and outside, it’s a miracle that they missed all of your vital organs. You were also put under general anaesthetic and you got a blood transfusion.”

And for the third time that day, and he’d only been awake for half an hour, Lucifer began to panic.

“What kind of blood?”

“Type O negative,” said Aaron with a shrug. “It’s funny, but it says here that they couldn’t figure out your blood type. I suppose it must happen sometimes. I suppose that’s why we have the universal donor!”

The things that went “beep” began to do so more frequently.

“Are you alright, sir—I’m sorry what’s your name?”

Human blood. Human blood and demon blood were not meant to mix. He needed to get home as soon as possible or this would end very, very badly.

“I’m fine. Mostly. Apart from the obvious. And you can call me-” he hesitated for a moment “-Louis Zephyr.” He was quite pleased with that pseudonym.

“Good, good. So, the police were wondering if you could answer a few questions. Because of the stabbing, you know. Sword stabbings aren’t common and they really want to make sure it isn’t going to be a new thing.”

“I don’t think it will,” said Lucifer, “the attacker had a personal vendetta against me so I don’t think anyone else is in danger. At least not from them.”

“Can I call the police in, then?” Asked Aaron, almost out of his field of vision.

“Wait. One moment. What was the name of the doctor who saved me?”

“Amelia. Amelia Butler.”

“I’ll have to thank her later. And what’s the name of this hospital?”

“This is st. Michael’s hospital.”

Lucifer laughed. He laughed hysterically with tears streaming down his face. He laughed until he couldn’t breathe.

Aaron looked on in concern and waited for him to stop.

“…Right you are, Louis. I’m going to go and get the police now.”

I hate to pull this card but

Pulls out a deck of cards from various sources and draws the tarot card, The Tower.

Oops. Wrong card.

Draws the Cards Against Humanity card reading “A hummingbird drinking nectar out of my urethra”.

I do hate to pull that card too but it wasn’t what I was looking for- ah! Here it is!

Draws a card reading “If this post can get 5000 notes within the next week I will continue writing my terrible, stupid book”.

Preview under the cut.

Prologue

You might have heard the urban legend. It goes like this; someone is walking along a street. They’re always pretty much alone, perhaps with the exception of maybe a pet dog, a conveniently non-verbal companion, when they hear sounds of a pretty intense struggle in an alley. So they go to check it out, but nobody is ever there.

Although sometimes, there’s a little pool of blood or a few feathers.

Mostly this is dismissed as a hallucination, or birds fighting, but the amount of blood and the size of the feathers makes it hard to believe.

And the voices. Most people report hearing arguing. But wherever in the world the story takes place, nobody can understand the language spoken by the fighters. The reports are fairly consistent. The language is described as “mellifluous” and “ethereal”, and there are always multiple people speaking it. Or at least shouting in it, but it is generally agreed upon that they are angry.

But there is always another voice, speaking a different, but still incomprehensible, language. He, for in the stories it’s always a he, sounds defiant and cocky, speaking in a harsher, less musical tongue, unless, of course, you count black metal. Some especially astute listeners have picked up words and sentences used by the lone, defiant individual and the angry group, coming to the conclusion that they seem to be speaking different dialects of the same language.

And another thing; birds don’t generally use weapons. One witness said that they heard what sounded like a fencing match or duel before they turned the corner.

There are so many witnesses that they should probably make a discord server.

Now we come to the theories. We have the rational explanation as mentioned previously; birds.

We have the “Time travelling fight club” theory.

We have the “That one alien spaceship where they keep having to get out because that one alien speaking another dialect keeps picking fights and they always threaten to maroon him on Earth but they never do” theory.

There’s the “Mothman vs other Mothman” theory and the “Crazy global cult who’s leader travels from place to place to perform blood sacrifices” theory, and let’s not forget the “Magical mutant cock-fighting ring gone wrong” theory, but one theory stands above all the rest.

The most well known, and probably the most ridiculous, theory is the “Demon repeatedly getting jumped by angels” theory.

But it’s all just a conspiracy theory. An urban legend. A joke.

Until the day Amelia Butler found the devil bleeding out in an alley.

[ptergwen]

idea for a peter x stark!reader: the graveyard scene at the end of nwh and reader is there with happy, visiting tony's grave (lets just pretend he was buried in the same place as may) and she sees peter but doesnt remember him at all :((

something to remember me by

warnings: BIG NWH SPOILERS and angst lots of angst

a/n: i changed it a bit so they’re all visiting may :( my heart absolutely broke writing this btw um have tissues on hand

-

icy air nips at peter’s skin as he paces himself through the cemetery. he carries a white rose along with him, his thumb skimming over its thorns.

he’s severely underdressed for the chilled winter day, something aunt may would surely chastise him for. he could never step an inch outside the apartment until she made sure he was bundled from head to toe.

it used to bug peter to no end. now, he understands that she was only looking out for him. all may ever did was for him.

her love might have been overbearing at times, but that’s because may parker loved fiercely. she loved with her entire being. mind, body, and soul.

she’d taught her nephew to do the same, which is why peter stands before her grave alone. he asked doctor strange to cast a spell making everyone forget him.

knowing peter comes with consequences. he refuses to ruin the lives of those dearest to him any more than he already has, so he thought it best to remove himself from them.

in turn, peter lost the few people he had left; happy, ned, mj, you. he’s on his own. but, maybe that’s for the best.

maybe, that’s what he deserves.

peter kneels so he can set the rose down in front of may’s headstone. he reads its engraving, his eyes instantly glossing.

when you help someone

you help everyone

peter’s chest aches, his heart excruciatingly heavy.

before his grief consumes him, he heaves himself off the ground. he distracts himself by admiring the other bouquets of flowers brought by the many who may touched.

that fierce love of hers went both ways.

proving this to be true, two pairs of feet pad toward peter in the snow. whoever they belong to, they’re visiting may.

“thanks for coming with me, kiddo. it can’t be easy, being here after your dad.”

peter’s head snaps up when he recognizes happy’s voice. happy, he’s missed him terribly. he never even got the chance to say goodbye.

he must be talking to…

“it isn’t, but may was important to you. that makes her important to me, too.”

you.

“y/n?” your name tumbles out of peter’s mouth like word vomit.

he doesn’t notice the confusion your features hold.

peter approaches you slowly, the fragility of yours and his situation pushed to the back of his mind. he blinks his teary eyes that have settled on you.

“it’s… it’s so good to see you. how’ve you been?” he breathes.

you’re beside happy with a comforting hand on his shoulder. happy pats your hand, then continues the short distance to may’s grave.

that leaves you and peter alone.

he takes you in as if it’s for the first time.

there are snowflakes stuck to your hair from snowfall earlier, a scarf wound tightly around your neck. it has a checker print that’s tattered from how worn it is.

it’s peter’s.

he’d lent it to you just recently, during one of your late night walks. you often went on those together.

you were cold, and peter was determined to warm you up. you’d tried to protest at first, too proud to accept the scarf from him, so he decided to wrap you in it himself. you ended up liking it so much that peter let you keep it.

that feels like ages ago, but it was only a matter of days.

“sorry, i…” you trail off, studying the rosy cheeked stranger who’s gazing at you. “do i know you?”

you don’t remember him.

of course you don’t, hence the memory erasing spell.

part of peter hoped it hadn’t worked on you. the selfish part of him, that is. you’re better off this way.

“uh… no,” peter lies, technically.

“but, you know me,” you reiterate. “how’s that so?”

the tips of peter’s ears turn a shade of pink that matches his cheeks. he tugs at the beanie he’d thrown on earlier, covering them.

“you’re a stark,” peter clarifies, shrugging to feign nonchalance. “everyone knows you.”

that is how he met you, through tony. you were the pretty assistant in your dad’s lab, and peter was the dorky avenger in training who would “accidentally” damage his tech so he’d have an excuse to spend time with you.

you press your lips into a polite smile.

“right, yeah. i’d forget if the whole world wasn’t constantly reminding me,” you laugh out.

peter’s sunken heart soars at the sound.

his doe eyes lock with yours.

“your dad… tony. he, uh, he was a real hero,” peter praises. “best of us all.”

you break the eye contact and clear your throat, hands shoving into the pockets of your jacket.

there’s a beat before those words register with you.

“us, huh?” you echo the stranger, who might not be so strange. “are you sure we haven’t met?”

peter winces. he gives a shake of his head, followed by a sniffle.

“oh, uh huh. yeah. i’m positive. positive. i just- i meant that-“

“are you okay?” you interject, your tone softer. “you’re crying.”

brows furrowed, peter swipes his fingers under his eyes. the skin is wet, and his lips taste of salt when he licks them out of habit.

he hadn’t realized.

“i’m fine,” peter assures you. he plasters on another smile for your sake. “really, i am.”

“you definitely aren’t,” you state the obvious.

you’re right. he isn’t fine, not in the slightest. may is gone, tony is gone. despite being right within his reach, you’re gone.

there’s nothing anymore.

there’s nothing.

“i’m assuming you’re here for may parker,” you gesture to happy at may’s grave, revealing, “they, um, dated or something. between you and me, i think it was a bit one sided.”

peter finds himself chuckling upon the mention of may’s and happy’s summer fling. he was more into it than her, to be fair.

“anyway, i’m here for support. i didn’t get the chance to know may too well,” you explain with regret. “but, from what i’ve heard… she was a hero, too. i’m sorry.”

you did know may, though. she loved you like one of her own, peter sometimes swore more than she loved him. you’d hit it off the moment he introduced you two.

since it was because of him you knew each other, he supposes those memories have faded.

“she… she…” peter tugs his wobbly lip between his teeth. “yeah, she was.”

your concern is piqued once again when you notice how the stranger’s body trembles.

“seriously, are you alright?” you question him, eyes fixed on his shaking form. “i’ll bet you’re freezing right now… you must be.”

honestly, he is. the thin material of his attire is no match for new york’s winter weather.

he exhales a cloud of smoke from his mouth, rubbing at his tear stained cheeks with his sleeve.

“what gave it away?” peter jokes.

you begin to pull your scarf loose from your neck.

“here, try this,” you offer the scarf to peter, without a second thought. he’s taken aback by your kind gesture. “no, i… i can’t do that. it’s yours,” peter insists, voice hoarse.

despite his refusal, you place the scarf in his hand. you close his fist around it conclusively, still your same stubborn self. peter stares down at your gloved hand over his. you’re smiling at him when he looks back up, a genuine smile.

“you need it more than i do.”

peter mirrors your infectious smile, nodding once. you let go of his hand so he can slip on the scarf. silently, you watch as he tucks it into his jacket, its scent smelling of you. he inhales a deep breath and lets it flood his senses.

“suits you well,” you compliment the scarf, peter laughing quietly. “thanks,” he rasps.

“well…” you glance over at happy, then back to the not-so-strange stranger. “i should really check on him. you gonna be okay?”

“yeah,” peter murmurs, repeating in a whisper, “yeah.”

for the first time since getting into this mess, he will be.

“sorry again about may,” you sympathize with him.

peter’s head hangs low, his eyes stinging from his dried tears. he doesn’t say anything to you in response, anything at all. you take that as your cue to go.

“wait!” peter stops you the second you turn.

you oblige, both eyebrows raised expectantly.

he doesn’t want you to leave, but you don’t have an actual reason to stay. so, he makes one up.

“aren’t you gonna need this back?” peter points to the scarf.

you grin as you start to walk backwards toward happy, sharing your ironic sentiment.

“keep it,” you call to the stranger, who desperately grips your scarf between his fingers.

“it’s something to remember me by.”

[blutopaz15]

Visual ficlet request! Heal our hearts that Zuppi broke!

It was drawn as the follow-up reunion after that scene where he finds her blade, but in this fluffy-ish version, instead of being gravely injured, she’s just temporarily knocked out or taking a post-battle nap when frantic Callum finds her. But however you interpret the drawing is cool 🤗

Ahhhh, numpty this is SUCH gorgeous artwork!!! I'm so happy to write a little something based on it!! have some soft and thoroughly cheesy knocked out rayla/frantic callum <3

He’s shaking when she wakes.

It’s not new: he’s held her like this before—for dear life, his grip practically bruising, everything in him trembling with panic—and for good reason, too…but it’s never been this bad, she thinks, feeling his heart pound against her cheek. 

Not even at the Pinnacle.

Not even at the Nexus. 

Rayla blinks bleary eyes open, trying to make sense of the gray sky dappled with flickers of magic above them, the field under her fingertips that that same spell had flung her far away to, the familiar smell of his scarf in her nose, the words Callum’s chanting in her ear like a prayer…

It’s not just that he’s shaking, she realizes after a few uneven breaths. 

It’s that he’s shaking her.

It’s her name he’s saying, and it’s getting louder. 

It’d been just a whisper when she’d first stirred, but he’s shouting now, desperate to rouse her. He’s propped her upright, hands seizing her shoulders…and her jumbled head is wide-awake, at least, even if the rest of her is catching up.

“Please, Rayla.” he begs, exhausted, tears falling fast against her scalp.

It takes effort—she’d gone down hard—but, feebly, Rayla reaches and closes her fist in the scarf at his neck, wanting to pull herself up, wanting to hold him as close as he’s holding her, wanting to catch his lips, even, with hers...but all her tugging is for naught. The scarf slips off his neck and into her lap, and he’s oblivious, sobbing against her forehead.

His voice cracks as he draws her close against his chest, shaking subsiding to rock her back and forth instead. “I can’t—I can’t lose you again. Please, Rayla—you have to stay with me.”

Weakly, her throat ragged, breath still knocked from her chest, she manages:

“H-hey, Sad Prince.”

Her name is a choked sob this time—a question, like he doesn’t dare to believe it—and then it’s a gasp once he holds her away, his mouth hanging agape as her open eyes meet his. He beams, trembling still, but she barely even gets to see him smile like that—all teary-eyed and tender and so heartachingly soft that it takes her breath away all over again—before he’s burying kisses in her hair, his lips humming and warm on her scalp. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, frantic kisses becoming frantic hands, gripping hurriedly up and down each limb. “Are you hurt?”

“I think—” she blinks at him, waiting to wince, but the only thing that pains her is squinting up at the brightening sky. It’s just her head, it seems, and the sting of the cut on her face that Callum’s fingertips have found. “Hit my head, maybe? But I think—I think I’m okay.”

“You’re bleeding.” Callum’s thumb traces the gash on her cheek, frown deepening when he finds the blood fresh and flowing, and then he searches his collar—for the scarf, she thinks—blinking and confused when he comes up empty-handed.

“Needed this,” she breathes with a muted snicker, offering him the scarf strewn across her lap, “for the luck.”

“I thought—” His fingers shake still, as he lifts the edge of his scarf to dab at the wound, and more tears slip out too, even just at the subtle way the red darkens with blood. “—I thought I lost you. I…I just got you back, and I thought—”

She presses her fingertip to his lips, and he lets her cut him off, his lips puckering against her in response, eyes shut and breath warm.

“It’s okay, Callum,” Rayla says, her hand slipping across his cheek, catching a few stray tears, and he lets the scarf fall from his hand to copy her, cradling her face in his palm still. “You haven’t lost me. I’m okay, and—” Gently, she guides his lips to hers. “—and I’m here.”

“I love you, Rayla,” he responds, like it's the first time—which it is, in such a long while. His voice is soft, and his lips find her forehead, and he cradles her against his chest once more. 

The shaking starts to still, and sunlight streams down around the clearing clouds. 

“I really do.”