#Personally speaking if I were to have my heart ripped out and replaced with a piece of alien biomatter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

midnxght-sweet-time · 1 year

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╰─▸ ❝ [ ⚠ 18+ 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗼 𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁. ] ❞

» " 𝑇𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑒𝑓 ! " ◥

➤ 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬.

∷ 𝚂𝚢𝚙𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚜 ▼

In a desperate act of hunger, you broke the Queen of hearts rule #089 : You must not eat the queen's tarts without her permission. Even as a non member of Heartslabyul, do you really think you could get away with such atrocity?

∷ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜/𝚃𝚆 ▼

Suspense. ▪︎ Reader making dumb decisions. ▪︎ NSFW. ▪︎ Smut. ▪︎ Choking/use of collar. ▪︎ Overstimulation. ▪︎ Raw/unprotected sex ▪︎ Possessive sex. ▪︎ Angry sex. ▪︎ Dumbification. ▪︎ Oral sex. ▪︎ Cock-drunk/pussy-drunk. ▪︎ Squirting. ▪︎ Creampie. ▪︎ You get fold to a mating press. ▪︎ You're also being stuffed like a turkey. ▪︎ Rip your legs your never walking again. ▪︎ Riddle is sexually fustrated. ▪︎ Not proofread. ▪︎ Please I wrote this during English class–

— ● ✎ Note :

Listen to me— I had been suggested a reel of that one scene of Alice in Wonderland from the live action and from that I somehow got this big brain idea to commit to it. For those who seen it ya'll should know where this came from. This is actually my first time writing smut– in a more descriptive narrative sense, to those uhhhh horny connoisseurs, I'd like some feedback if any thx qwq. Anyways, have fun reading sweeties ♡

"Someone has stolen my tarts!!!"

The shocking sound of the doors being slammed open with such violent force made you swallow any comfort you had before and replace it with dread.

The once lively room of friends now went silent and still like a sudden interrupted record player. It wasn't the fact that the door was nearly knocked out of its hinges that scared everyone— no, whether that poor door were to ever move again was the least of anyones' worries; it was the fact that someone's or everyone's heads will roll to the ground… metaphorically speaking.

This situation however seems to differ from every other; of all the times you have stood still as a common bystander that got caught in the crossfire, this was entirely different.

Sweat rolled down the side of your face as your heart thumps uncontrollably as if looking for an escape. How your terrified heart screamed at you to run or hide and cower any way out of the dorm leader's piercing sharp gaze that bore through every person in this room all at once. Your lips straighten and your teeth sink into the gums behind it as a vain attempt at calming yourself from the beast that's approaching.

The taste of strawberry on your lips seems to be indigestible now…

The heels of polished boots were more than a warning— they were unspoken yet clear threats to anyone who even dares think of moving an inch besides him. Those gray-blue tinted orbs that flitz from one side to the other. Eyes furrowed at a certain orange haired male that had his strands standing on end with a mere click of his tongue.

"Trappola."

The first suspect was called. Ace immediately shot up from his lousy posture and stood tall before the vicious queen as if a card soldier on command. "Did you steal my tarts?" Like a man being held at gunpoint, Ace took a moment to keep himself steady before speaking, "No dorm leader." The eyes of Riddle stayed on him for a few seconds before continuing on the straight path of students to interrogate the next.

"Spades."

The other pair of cards was called. Unlike the heart, the spade was more self-assured. Deuce eyes at Riddle with an equally bold glare. He was more well adjusted to the situation as seen in his confident expression. Yet the slight shiver of his fingers and legs were opposing this. "I did not eat your tarts, dorm leader." That was all it took for Riddle to look satisfied with his answer. An approving nod was given as Deuce was left off the hook easily. It almost made your eyes twitch in envy.

Those bluish gray eyes went back to scanning the lounge of students. The look on Riddle's face seems to soften a bit now, but it was a mere facade that gives a false sense of security. The tightening of his fist was a dead give away to you that puts you on high alert, it was clear that he was still very pissed off and is dead set on finding the culprit. This caused gears in your head to start turning as you suddenly had a stray warning thought. You noticed how… out of character the tyrant suddenly was. You know how lenient he has been ever since his Overblot, but how he takes his time in searching for the tart thief feels more calculated.

Everyone knew Riddle doesn't take lightly to anyone stealing anything from him, especially his precious tarts. So for him to be slow and steady in this pace felt so off. It felt like he already knew who the culprit was and was simply going about a routine of interrogation. Maybe to coax the truth out of anyone by crushing them under the pressure like a bug at the bottom of his heels.

It sure had you sitting on the edge of your seat as if you were watching a horror movie. Your back sinking further into the velvet plush cushion of the seat as if you were trying to sink into it to get out of this situation. The way his intimidating presence prances around the room like a hunting predator had your eyes glued to his every move as you prayed internally for him to move on even if you knew the off chance of him ever letting this one broken rule slide was undoubtedly little to none.

As if the universe decided to screw you over, Riddle pretty much ignores the last two of the remaining dorm members and goes straight to you. His supposed short form towering over yours as he stood tall. A shadow was cast in front of you and Riddle from how the looming physical threat was preventing any light from comforting you at all. The only 'lumination' to this unwelcoming cover was the look in his eyes that metaphorically shines as he glares down at you and the anxiety burning through your entire being. Slowly did his face edge to yours as he bent down to take a good look at you. A slight widening takes over his eyes as if he wants you to take a good look at his pupils that had a glow of rage and suspicion. His lips move slowly as every word places an invisible pressure on your chest at the impending doom.

"Did you steal my tart?"

Gulping down whatever was left of your pride, your lips barely parted and were about to let out only hush whispers until the red tyrant spoke once again. "Open your mouth wide and speak, darling." It was like a purr and a growl. How his voice was harsh but the word 'wide' draped along his throat.

Inhaling a deep breath as if the enraged boy stole your breath away with just his mere presence. You gathered yourself and repeated the words that the previous suspects have heaved out, "No. Riddle."

But it was barely enough. Meanings behind those words were half baked and hardly convincing to the red queen's ears. As no matter how innocent and petite Riddle's short form may look, his mind was far from being naive. One brow rose up as he scanned your entire expression, making your breathing unsteady once more. It was so nerve-wracking how he was inching towards you. Those wide mad eyes coming closer and closer.

You looked to the side as your panicked gaze focused at the heart and the spade markings on the side of your friends' faces. Your pupils shake as if begging them to say or to help you. But no matter how desperate you may look, everyone stood still and watched as if they were just statues that were glued in place; unmoving and never dared utter a word, either by the fear of being targeted next or perhaps with a blank mind and no plans to save your sorry ass.

But as your sight shifted back, all your vision was covered with faded red of eye shadow on fair skin, as small locks of hair in the same red shade brushed against your eyelashes. The feeling of soft smooth lips connecting with your dry ones was what overwhelmed your senses. It was then you realize you were trapped within the tyrant's hold. Something slippery glides across the dry skin at the side of your mouth all the way to the other end with a slow sensual lick, wetting the surface and picking up the lingering flavor and syrup that you left behind.

A gentle touch on your cheek that almost caught you off guard. It caresses your skin gently yet holds you in place with how those fingernails gripped at your skin like an anchor and dragged it down to your chin. Your breath was stolen once again as you finally realized the unexpected osculation was a way of finding the evidence to your thievery.

As he finally pulls away with a thin trail of spittle connecting from his end of his tongue to your lips, you didn't notice how red and hot your cheeks burned with how fast your heart race; either from the fear of being caught or the sudden display of affection that made you almost forget you had a literal audience that starred at you two with wide eyes as if you were a victim placed on an unfair trial. But it doesn't seem Riddle was all too bothered by the latter.

All his focus was on you, furrowed anger displayed on his face as his eyes bore through yours once again but this time with a hint of an indescribable emotion that you can't seem to decipher. A small wet puckered noise rings in your ears as you notice that same wet muscle glided along his lips the same way it did with yours. With one final inhale, he slowly inches backwards with soft spoken words you didn't know you'd be terrified of hearing:

"It's strawberry jam."

Lewd sounds of skin slapping together was drowned with the dizzying sense of pleasure leaving you gasping for air and crying out incoherent sobs. The way your body jolts up with each pound of his hips against your ass, has you gripping onto the fabric of Riddle's tie that bound your hands together in a cute little bow.

"I w-was just hungry– I–"

Your words were cut off by the harsh slap and the knock of the tip of his girthy cock ramming up your cervix, shutting you up. The sound of wet squelches echoes through the room and those bluish gray eyes bore holes through yours with such intimidating presence. "Stop making excuses." The red head sneers, flickers of anger and hunger still laced in his eyes that made you shiver accompanied by his gloved hands that gripped onto your waist securely as he forced you through his harsh relentless thrusts.

He wouldn't hear you. The only thing he took into account is the non stop moaning that he can drive them out of you. You were just hungry. You would have asked for his permission or known it was his if he wasn't away doing other things, cooped up in his room for who knows how long.

…Or perhaps that bitter thought was what led you to spite him and stole the tart in hopes you could get away with it. You were planning to replace it, you swear! But Riddle would never listen and insist on punishing you tenfold.

You shift your head to the side, your neck aching with how tightly the collar squeezed at your throat. "Please— so- s'too much–" your senses have already been overloaded. You lost track of time with how long Riddle has been stuffing you with his cock. You could barely register his words as he muttered, "And you are to take it like how you took my tart." He has fucked you well past tears, past the point your voice have started to grow more hoarse. Your legs that once wrapped around his waist so obediently have now fallen limp; much to the dorm leader's annoyance, he had to hold them down for you.

"You don't know how to behave do you?" The tyrant grunts. The table rocking off all papers and pens he worked so hard to organize just to make space for you. He continues to feed you his girth, vigorously plunging into you that had you seeing stars. Fuck. His too much— you would beg and cry for him to stop if he didnt keep interrupting you with well-aimed thrusts that kept you moaning or even demand you shut up and take his cock like the good little slut you are.

It felt so good but the overstimulation made you feel like you could just burst.

He was ruthless in his punishment, making sure to make this as mind-breakingly numb as possible. The infamous collar was chained tightly on your neck to make sure you were reminded of your misdeeds with how little air you get to take in. Your mind is turned to mush with how nicely his length rubs against the plush walls of your leaking hole. Juices that were already squirted out mixed with cum that overflowed have been leaking down to the crack of your ass and to your back. Your sore legs are gripped so tightly as you've been folded into an overused mating press.

You felt his hand grabbing your jaw and slowly turning your head to face him. The touch was oddly gentle in contrast to the rough treatment you've been given. His eyes now gleam their color at you with a more softer look than that furrowed glare from before, yet it was still just as frightening with how sternly expressed he looks at you.

"Keep your eyes on me. You have yet to apologize for your actions."

Another harsh single slam against you, telling you he has reached another high. His tip pulsates and you moan at the feeling of another wave of cum pumping you full again. His cock sliding in and out subtly to get a bit more friction to stimulate the ejaculation, filling you up again with another load.

You heaved out a desperate gasp, "Ri-Riddle– 'm sorry."

Another savage slap of his balls on your ass. He starts fucking you again. Pushing you onto the table. He bends down to sink his teeth on your collarbone, planting another bite besides the dozens that are already littered on you from neck to shoulder, some even on your thighs. He holds onto that part of your skin like a rabid animal that had been starved— perhaps he was seeing as how you took the one thing other than you he was looking forward to after work. Your cunt already all puffy and swollen from the abuse, yet it sucks in his dick as if yearning for more.

"Queen of hearts– rule- fuck, rule #053. You w-will replace what you stole— but I want… your integrity."

Inhaling your scent, his head is still buried in your neck. Your hands that were bound have given up the struggle and instead clawed at your own palm. The fabric felt like it was part of you now. You felt like a folded origami with how long you've stayed in such a position. Squirming underneath your queen that holds you so possessively, completely at his mercy. His girth and cream stretching you and keeping you full, you're not sure if you want him to ever pull out and be emptied.

You can feel every heavy vein that drags along your slippery slick walls. You were so very sensitive, panting like a dog. Perhaps this was your third— no… fifth orgasm? You really can't recall anymore when you're squirting out like a hose. Your juices glistened and coats his whole length. Lubricating it so well his thrusts were so smooth but still so rough.

"You are to obey these rules. Understood?"

"Y–yes-!"

Your vision gets hazy as you keep rocking on his dick, your cunt being constantly destroyed from the inside out. You were completely fucked dumb. Riddle really has no intention of stopping until your sweet little mind can think of nothing but the pure stifling bliss his putting you through or til the clock strikes midnight and your pussy is left overflowing with his cum as a mark of your discipline.

#disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #yandere riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland riddle #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #twst riddle x reader #riddle x yuu #riddle x y/n #riddle x mc #twst #twisted wonderland #twst smut #twst riddle smut #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts x yuu #riddle rosehearts x mc

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bleachification · 10 months

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⸻ THE HEART OF RUINS

pairing: kenpachi x doctor!reader

warnings: a lil gory? not really that bad though, just mild descriptions of injuries.

themes: hurt/comfort, short drabble, sorta-established relationship, flashback, sunshine x grumpy (?)

word count: 2.4K (vv short lol)

+ + + + + + + + + + + + +

Kenpachi knew something was off the moment Captain Mayuri came barreling through his room in near hysterics, frantically inquiring about your whereabouts.

“Where is [name]?” He demanded, eyes shifting around the room in search of you, unusually panicked.

Kenpachi lazily glanced over at the mad scientist, a little curious, a little bored. Mostly irritated. “The hell are you doing in my house?”

“I do not have time to humour simple-minded buffoons like you. The doctor is in grave danger, which means my dear experiment is in grave danger! Now, tell me where [name] went,” Mayuri hissed.

At that, Kenpachi went rigid. Any and all nonchalance fizzled out of existence, replaced by icy tension. “The hell are you talking about, [name] in danger?”

It isn’t possible, he thought. Sure, you didn’t exactly have Kenpachi’s battle prowess, but your own reiatsu and skill rivalled those of the Gotei 13—your healing abilities are only exceeded by Unohana herself.

[Name] hurt? In Kenpachi’s mind, such a thing was inconceivable.

Forbidden.

“Oh for—” Mayuri huffed, exasperated, and quickly spewed out a rapid explanation. “[Name] is helping me test a new drug, and I’ve been monitoring all of their circulatory and respiratory vitals during the serum’s incubation period. Five minutes ago, every vital sign went flat.”

Silence.

A crack! sounded.

The wall splintered and caved in at the force of Kenpachi’s fist striking it.

“What?!” He snarled, the harsh sound ripped from his throat at the news.

Mayuri rolled his eyes. “Yes. Without the host, my research is over, so hurry up and tell me where—“

Before he could utter another syllable, Kenpachi bolted out the door, sword in hand—his eyepatch long forgotten on the bedside table. The force was so great, it sent Mayuri’s headpiece flying off.

“Bumbling idiot!”

As he swore up a storm, the mad (and equally furious) scientist chased after the speeding cyclone of a captain, all while praying for the safe return of his experiment.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . 　

“Hello there.”

Zaraki Kenpachi stared down at the figure before him. His own stature dwarfed you in comparison, and the scar on his hardened features did nothing to soften his visage.

You greeted him with a gentle smile all the same.

“Huh? What are you?”

“I am the new head field doctor, [name]. It is so nice to meet you,” you grinned. Strangely, Kenpachi isn’t annoyed by it, nor by the way you treated him—as if you’d known him his whole life. “I have heard so much about you, Captain Zaraki.”

“New field doctor? Never heard of ya,” he said.

“Captain! You can’t just—”

Kenpachi’s gaze swivelled towards his number three. Ikakku fell silent at the look in his captain’s eyes.

“It’s alright, Ikkaku. I don’t mind. Go ahead and help the others. Your captain and I have much to discuss,” you reassured him.

The Third Seat looked unconvinced, but relented at your pacifying tone. He shot an anxious look at his captain before exiting the field, leaving you alone with Kenpachi.

He regarded you with mild disinterest, but you paid no heed. There was only one thing on your mind.

“Please lie down, Captain.”

Kenpachi’s eyes narrowed. “This is nothing. I can still fight.”

You peered down at the five-inch hole in his stomach. The wound was so deep, you were surprised he was still standing, much less speaking to you. Blood gushed out in streams, and the more he breathed, the more flesh teared. As a doctor, you were impressed at his tenacity. As a person, you were horrified.

You smiled sweetly. “I will not ask again.”

He only scoffed before turning his back to you.

One step.

Two steps.

Kenpachi took three steps away from you before you wrapped a hand around his neck and tapped the base of his throat with three fingers—light as a feather and as effective as a tranquilizer. Your power flowed through his veins and pooled in his stomach, shutting off any and all protests.

Kenpachi’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed to the ground.

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, a grave oversight made. How the hell were you going to lug this giant back to base camp alone?

“Shit, shit, shit, shit…”

“[Name]?”

“Oh, Ikkaku, thank god!”

The shinigami had come back. His eyes widened at the sight before him.

“I’m going to need some help.”

It took a few tries and a lot of breaks, but the two of you managed to successfully drag the captain back to the medical cabins.

Kenpachi woke up from his medically-induced coma a day later, demanding to fight you.

“Where’s that damned doctor? I’ll—”

You waved a hand of dismissal as you walked into his ward. Your nurses scattered, all wearing expressions of relief as they left.

“No need to shout, my dear patient. I am right here.”

“You,” he growled, the accusation ripe on his tongue.

“Me,” you sighed, rubbing your dry eyes with a gloved hand. The fatigue lingered despite your best efforts of staying alert.

Kenpachi faltered as he took in your state. His words were still gruff—unkept, but softer, somehow. Careful.

“What's wrong with you?”

You squinted at him, vision blurry. “Huh?”

“You look like hell,” he grunted.

You blinked, his comment catching you off guard. It caught you so off guard that you found yourself bursting into laughter—or hysterics, you weren’t sure.

“Believe me, I feel like it too,” you breathed, all sorts of aches flooding your muscles. You rolled your shoulder and made your way to his bedside, about to check on his wounds. “So if you want to fight me, it will have to wait until I am rested. Though you’ll win regardless, so I don’t really see a point in it.”

Kenpachi eyed you warily as you got closer, but the tension left him after you finished fiddling with the IV, letting the second dose of morphine hit.

“You never know. Maybe you’re just what I need in an opponent. You knocked me out earlier, remember?” His tone was almost… hopeful? It made you smile, despite your exhaustion.

“You were severely weakened, Captain Zaraki. Three types of venom were found festering within your body. Your organs were shredded to practically nothing. The fact that you survived is nothing short of a miracle, and most definitely beyond me. Hell, beyond the scope of anatomy and physiology itself.

“All that, and it still took me an immense amount of energy to put you to sleep. If you were any closer to your original strength, I would likely be dead,” you pointed out matter-of-factly.

It was true. The sheer power he contained and the potential he had… it was nothing short of monstrous.

Kenpachi barked out a laugh. “How boring.”

“I shall take that as a compliment.”

He laughed again. You found you quite liked the sound of his laughter.

“You have a nice laugh,” you pointed out.

Kenpachi doesn’t respond, only slides you a look of half-boredom and half-nonchalance.

“You could at least say thank you,” you teased.

“I don’t do that,” he grunted.

That time, it was you who laughed.

“You don’t say…”

You glanced at him, and the motion made you dizzy. You squeezed your eyes shut for a few seconds in an attempt to curb it as everything went hazy.

“Damn. That was some really bad vertigo,” you murmured.

Kenpachi tilted his head, craning his neck. “What?”

“I said—” you paused as the world tilted left.

Then, right.

Then, upside down.

“Hey—what’s wrong with you?!”

The last thing you remembered before blacking out is the warmth of large arms wrapping around you, and a string of curses that came from their owner.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . 　

Kenpachi ignored the biting winds whipping against his skin and the harsh summer heat bearing down on his back as he sped across mountains and plains. Sweat streamed down the frame of his face from the effort, slowing only against the rigid tension in his jaw.

Move, he thought.

Faster, he pleaded with himself.

Just get to them.

The last time Kenpachi had felt panic to such a degree was four years ago—when he had witnessed your unconscious form crumple to the hospital floor, unresponsive to his shouts. Your head had been cradled in his palm, mere inches from hitting the stone floor.

It took six hours for you to wake up, and by that time, Kenpachi had reached a new level of anxiety—one that he did not realize he was capable of. For some obscure and completely unknown reason, the captain who had never cared much about anything seemed to care way too much for a stranger. The feeling gnawed at him and made him uneasy. Such a person was dangerous. He should get rid of you, yet, as soon as you began to lose your balance, his first and only instinct was to catch you—to protect you.

But this time, he may be too late.

Kenpachi shook that paralyzing thought out of his head and pushed himself to even quicker speeds. Solid surroundings turned to vertical blurs as he cut through forests and lakes in his haste.

As the sky shifted to black and the air grew cold, he finally slowed to a stop. Kenpachi found himself at the edge of a familiar cliff overlooking miles and miles of flat fields. On them, rested hundreds of stone pillars and ruins of a broken city. A vast civilization that once flourished—-now eroded by time’s decay, leaving only rotted land and torn buildings.

Where…?

Kenpachi screamed your name. The only answer he got back was the faded echo of his own voice.

A soft scuffle sounded behind him.

It was not you. Kenpachi knew this and pulled his blade out, as fast as lightning and deadlier by tenfold. The ragged metal glinted underneath the moon’s glow as it pointed at its victim, the tip mere millimeters from the hollow of Ikkaku’s throat.

“Captain. We’re here to help,” Ikkaku announces. If he was threatened by Kenpachi, he did nothing to let it show.

Behind Ikkaku stood the entirety of Kenpachi’s squad. All of whom were drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, sharing the same grim expression of determination.

“If you come back with empty hands, you will die with empty hands,” Kenpachi promised in a low voice.

No one argued. No one complained. Squad 11 dispatched, ready to either bring you back to Kenpachi or forfeit their lives.

The captain ignored his squad members, and jumped straight off the cliff into the rubble below. The ground shook in protest underneath his heavy footsteps as he searched through stone caverns and collapsed wreckage in a crazed, feral frenzy, blind to everything but his desperate need to find you.

Rocks tumbled, dust flew into the air, and darkness crept its way alongside Kenpachi as the night aged. Hours and hours passed without a single sign of life.

Not one squad member had reported anything back to their captain since the search began.

A guttural roar ripped free from Kenpachi as he hit the peak of his rage and frustration. Sheer panic sliced through his bones. He dug through solid walls, fingernails broken and bleeding, calling out your name until it burned his throat to speak.

Think.

Kenpachi had to think. His mind was racing—a storm of jittering anxiety and distress. The thought of you was the only pillar of order in that whirling chaos.

You.

His doctor.

The one who promised to save him, always. Forever.

That day, he had silently vowed to do the same. He would not break that promise tonight.

With renewed clarity, the captain scanned the horizon, squinting at the darkness. His squad members roamed the land, yelling your name and searching. Kenpachi ignored them and focused, looking over each area with a critical eye.

A dull glint of something caught his eye. It peeked out from underneath a huge mass of crumbling granite that had fallen in place of what looked like the entrance to an abandoned mausoleum.

Kenpachi got closer.

The metal’s shape came into form. A familiar ring.

He bolted.

In one swift motion, Kenpachi had heaved the stone slab away, removing the only obstacle between him and what was on the other side.

Your broken body, bruised and caked with dried blood, laid there as still as a corpse. Your complexion was paler than the marble tiles you were found on, and your skin was so cold that it made Kenpachi shiver when he gently gathered you into his arms.

“Hey…” his voice had never been so quiet. He had never felt so small, so helpless.

You didn’t respond.

Kenpachi felt for a pulse, heart hammering, and almost collapsed in relief when he found one, albeit faint.

A few of the squad members realized what had happened and started to swarm, all having similar reactions of shock and fear.

“Is that…?”

“Oh god, do you think—“

“Get Mayuri here now!” Kenpachi barked out, interrupting the whispers and startling the soldiers back into action. They scrambled to locate the other doctor, leaving their captain and yourself alone by the tombs.

You still had not awoken.

“C’mon… Wake up… [name], wake up,” Kenpachi muttered, softly stroking your matted hair. His hands shook, fingers trembling as he kept you within his grasp.

After what seemed like lifetimes, but were probably only mere minutes, Mayuri came running, Ikkaku followed with a myriad of odd (medical?) aids in his arms.

“Damned… give them to me!”

A possessive, irrational streak reared its ugly head and Kenpachi almost refused, clutching you closer, until his senses knocked him straight. He relented, though not without reluctance.

Mayuri immediately got to work, and after a long stretch of tense waiting, he had stabilized you.

“[Name] will be fine, but we need to get them back to the city.”

At those words, the pressure in Kenpachi’s chest that had been present since the beginning of the whole ordeal finally lifted, and he felt like he could breathe again.

He would chew you out later for being so stupid, but for now, he had you.

You were safe.

And that was the only thing that seemed to matter.

•

˚ · . tags: @zjarrmiii @aiizenn @emyyy007 @zaraki-oriented

#x reader #bleach #bleach kenpachi #kenpachi zaraki #kenpachi #kenpachi x you #kenpachi x y/n #kenpachi x reader #bleach x you #bleach x reader #hurt/comfort #fluff #angst #bleach fluff #bleach angst #bleach mayuri #mayuri kurotsuchi #ikkaku madarame #bleach oneshot

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strrwbrrryjam · 8 months

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okay so its 4:30am, so take it with a grain of salt but one thing ive noticed in a lot of charthur fics is that the authors tend to dismiss, or throw shade on the love arthur shared with mary and eliza.

sometimes they write stuff like "arthur has never felt love like this, not even with eliza or mary," actively dismissing the role that mary and eliza played in arthurs life.

mary for instance, i believe, is one of the first people to recognize that there is more to arthur than being the big dumb brute, a criminal, and that inside arthur is a good man, who can do so much more than steal and beat and kill. she actively encourages arthur and pushes arthur to see and only really wants the best for him

sure, there are flaws to this as mary and arthur come from two entirely different environments, with similar circumstances (their fathers being similar for example,) and entirely different worldviews. i could very well go on with this because there is so much to analyze about their relationship.

generally speaking though, arthur and mary were really the right person for each other, but it was sadly the wrong time in their lifes for both of them, maybe later in life they could have actually be the one for each other-

in canon, arthur is still so in love with mary years after their broken engagement. its so palpable from the moment we see the two meet, that they dont want to care about each other, that they dont want to love each other but they do, they feel it so deeply that it is ingrained into their sense of self that they cant even hide it from each other

eliza we dont know much about, as she wasnt mentioned often, but i refuse to believe that arthur doesnt deeply care for the mother of his child, that while they might not have been in love, like he was with mary, that he would love her, hell, maybe they could have grown to be in love if eliza (and isaac) didnt have their life cruelly ripped away from them

i love charthur so so much, it is my favourite pairing of rdr2 (whether romantic or otherwise) and it means so much to me- but to actively throw shade on two characters who are so important to arthurs life and vital to his character development, is just.. its just wrong

his love for charles doesnt have to replace his love for mary or eliza, he is a big man with a big heart- loving someone new doesnt mean that he has to push those who he loved out

tldr: mary and eliza are important, stop throwing shade on arthurs past relationships to uplift his current relationship, his heart is big enough for them to share, you dont have to push them out

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itsscottiesstark · 3 months

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If you haven't watched Around the world in 80 days with David, or if you simply don't want to get your heart broken by a Fogg x Crowley comparison, you should maybe scroll past this.

Oh, you're still here? Good.

Imagine this: It's been a few months since Aziraphale left. Crowley has been spending them drinking and sleeping away the days, ever since the second the angel disappeared from his eyes.

He hasn't been in contact with anyone, ignoring Muriel's attempts to get him out of there.

And he won't talk about it. He can't talk about it.

So, one day, Muriel stops by his flat to check up on him, finds him deliriously drunk, slumped over at the feet of his couch, probably fell during his attempt to grab another bottle and couldn't possibly get back up.

He's slurring, his hair a mess, his clothes rumpled. He must have at some point ripped his shirt open, maybe in despair or simple overheating, because Muriel could see his now bare chest, bracketed by his shirt, but there were buttons scattered around him.

Muriel hurries over to his side, grabs his hands and tries to get his attention.

"Mister Crowley?" They take his hand in theirs and give it a firm squeeze. "Please, Mister Crowley?" The demon won't look at them. "Crowley?!" They say, unintentionally in a similar way Aziraphale used to call out his name when he was worried.

His eyes slowly open and attempt to focus on the blurry, blindingly white image in front of him. Muriel repeats his name, and Crowley finally speaks.

"Aziraphale...?" His eyes are as open as he could get them, but the image is fuzzy as ever. Still, there's only one person his unimaginably drunk brain wants to see, so that's what he sees.

"No, it's me, Muriel," they try and correct him, but he doesn't seem to be able to listen. Or even care.

"My darling Aziraphale, you came back! I always knew you would." A couple of tears escape the demon's eyes, his glasses nowhere to be seen to cover them up as usual. "I always knew," he repeats, his voice breaking. "Well, no, I didn't know, but I hoped." He attempts to squeeze the warm hand still holding his. "I dreamed," comes a whisper.

"Mister Crowley-" Muriel attempts again, but gets interrupted once again.

Crowley brings their joined hands on his naked chest. "Feel my heart, Aziraphale," he whines his name. "It's always been yours. Waiting for you." He's properly crying now, sobs escape his mouth but there's also a faint smile there. "Now you're finally here, I can tell you everything!"

Muriel couldn't stand interrupting him again, he was smiling. Clearly, his own brain was deceiving him, but he was smiling.

He told them, thinking it was Aziraphale, about his travels. His blessings, when he was doing Aziraphale's job. And then he told them about his blessings, when he definitely wasn't doing Aziraphale's job.

"I saved a young boy's life!"

"That's wonderful," Muriel cooed.

"I just want you to be proud of me," Crowley admitted. "Just once." He looked them in the eyes, or tried to, anyway. "You see, angel, I've been alone for such a very long time. You were right to go. To leave me."

Muriel wanted to stop him, comfort him, tell him he was wrong. But he didn't seem to want to hear anything they had to say. So they remained silent.

"I could never have been good enough for you, I think you knew that from the start." His voice was now raw with emotion, no more whining. It was as if he was numb to those things he was saying. Like he'd accepted them. "I think we both knew."

With that, he closed his eyes and went to sleep. Soon, soft snores started coming from his mouth, replacing the heartbreaking sobs.

Around the world in 80 days, 2021. Episode 4.

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liliesinrequiem · 6 months

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Expectations

A/N: You know, it's always Tartaglia hours in my mind. It's like I always end up going back to writing about him lol. I hope y'all enjoy.

Pairing: Possessive!Childe x Reader

Summary: You struggle with your job and the shadow that looms over you - your boss.

CW: Unhealthy relationships, power imbalance (boss and subordinate)

You paced in the freezing cold with a frown. Snezhnaya’s weather never changed, in fact, it felt worse these days. You could feel your fingertips going numb, even through the gloves, as you crossed your arms to try and make some warmth. The coat that you were wearing wasn’t good enough to withstand the cold of the day. You had to ask for a new one, but the thought made you hesitate. The less you spoke to your boss, the better. It meant not giving into his whims. You could already see the glimmer in his eyes at the thought of you asking him for something.

Your boss. Your frown got worse as you thought more about him. Childe, 11th of the Harbingers, was the headache that never left you. Of course, you did your best to make your boss happy. A happy Childe was the only version of him you ever wanted to see. Anything that could make him angry or upset was dealt with immediately. But keeping him happy was at your expense. Rather than oversee the new recruits himself, he’d left you in charge and kept being in far off lands. So, you were shipped back to Snezhnaya rapidly on his whims. “I hate having to send you off, but you get it, right?” Certainly.

Then, Signora died. You knew that he was in Snezhnaya. There was no way that he wouldn’t be. But where was he? The funeral had come and gone and all that you’d gotten was a letter. A stupid piece of paper that you’d burned in anger after reading its contents. He was in a hurry to ship off the new recruits.

“Captain?” asked someone. Your pacing slowed down as you turned to look at the recruits. They’d all been quicker with their training today. The one speaking to you, Ilya, was the most promising member of the small group. Though, the whole group had improved greatly over these few weeks.

“Yes, Ilya?” you asked softly. You kept telling yourself to be gentle with them. You’d be the last kindness they had before being sent all over the world to cruel hands. Plus, it’d be wrong to take your anger out on them. Childe was your reason for anger, not them.

“We finished our training like you asked. Is there anything else you want us to do?” he asked. You shook your head at them and gave them a strained smile. The weight of their future tormented you.

Every single one of these recruits before you were younger than you. They didn’t know what it was like. They didn’t know the true horrors that awaited them. It was always like this, no matter how much you tried to not get attached. It was like having a new part of your heart ripped out as they were sent off to their deaths. Perhaps it was ridiculous to care. Part of being in the Fatui meant not caring about others too much because you run the risk of getting hurt. All of you were mere bodies that the Harbingers could move around like pawns. But you couldn’t separate yourself from them. You remembered every single person that had been trained by you. You remembered them because you knew that the rest of the Fatui, the Harbingers, and even the Tsaritsa wouldn’t remember them.

It wouldn’t be long before someone in this new group died and were replaced with someone else. It wouldn’t be long for them to be separated from each other. It wouldn’t be long before you were assigned another group to train. A puff of air formed as you took a shaky breath. As you prepared to answer, a pair of arms wrapped tightly around you. Your brain stopped thinking for a moment. You were so keenly aware of the recruits looking at the person that was caging you in.

You looked up and felt your heart stop. Dark, sapphire eyes looked back down at you. It was that look. The one he always got when he had you right where he wanted you. You were his cherished prey. A chorus of cheerful greetings filled the air. You remained frozen in your spot. He’d made no mention of personally visiting the group before sending them off. You could only assume that he was purposefully trying to agitate you. There was never any freedom from him, was there?

“Look at how well behaved these recruits are, (Y/N). Why am I yet to hear your voice?” he asked. Behind the cheery tone, you could hear the underlying disappointment. Your stomach plummeted.

“Master Childe! I-I’m just surprised is all,” you whispered. The smile returned to his face. He turned his attention to the group.

“All of you are free to go back to camp. When you get there, someone will give you details on your next mission.”

“Yes, sir!” said the group as they hurried back to camp. As you watched them disappear in the snow, you bit your lip. You’d told yourself that you were going to be strong. You couldn’t cry. Especially not in front of him. It’d upset him to see you cry for others when you refused to be emotional with him. You couldn’t afford any misunderstandings.

“You’re shaking,” he said. “Are you that happy to see me?” You didn’t know how to respond. The emotions were overwhelming.

“Always am, Master Childe,” you answered. You hoped that your smile didn’t seem forced to him.

“I’m happy to hear that. You don’t know how difficult these last few weeks have been. Not being able to touch you in any way has been awful. I’ve been counting down the days for when I could see you again,” he said. His grip on you tightened more. It wasn’t like you could even escape him. No matter where you went, the shadow of Childe loomed over your existence. At its core, there was no hope for you. You were bound to this job. “You know, I’m so proud of you. You trained them in record time.” You knew that he had to have been watching them for some time. Perhaps the whole training run. He would ask for details if he wasn’t aware.

“Just wanted them to be the best for you, Master Childe.” You didn’t have the strength to fight against him. In gentler terms, you were a mere plaything to him. In reality, he felt like he owned you. Your own movements within the Fatui were restricted because the world knew what you were to him. You knew that the trainees only respected you because of the man that was eternally attached to you. Your title might as well be: Captain (Y/N), Harbinger Childe’s Pet. He orders you to do something and you do it.

But you had to maintain it. Maintain it for the smiles that waited back home for you. Your family couldn’t survive without you providing for them. “I expect nothing else,” he said as he nuzzled your face. “Since you’re done with these recruits, I can take you on my new mission.”

“Yes, Master Childe,” you said. You secretly wondered how much more you could take of any of this. The nature of training people just to send them off to their deaths, the constant moving around with no stability, and the suffocation of the man who held you.

But it was expected of you to be able to handle all of this, so you would.

#tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #childe x you #tartaglia x you #genshin impact x you

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tokiro07 · 21 days

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Undead Unluck ch.204 thoughts

[Lord Forgive Me But It's Time to Go Back to The Old Me]

(Contents: Parallels - Nico/Feng/Ichico, Character development - Feng, Power system development/speculation - Souls, Character speculation - Sun/Luna)

Well! I guess we didn't need to worry about Nico staying a non-Negator after all, now did we? So much for keeping Nico "Unforgettable-free" eh, Ichico? Still, I feel better knowing that my prediction that they'd trigger it on purpose was correct, even if the exact method was a bit off

As usual, Tozuka continues to impress me with his ability to compose iconic panels. Nico's face when he absorbed all of the memories from Acopalypse is simply Unforgettable, particularly since it so immediately reverted him to his classic L100 appearance. What's really fun about that is that it's probably not that his body just suddenly remembered all of the stress and sleepless nights of Unforgettable, but rather it's the logical extreme of Artifact-based memory influx. We've seen characters develop headaches and nosebleeds from it before, most notably from Fuuko digging through an huge box full of Artifacts, so for Nico to absorb presumably ALL of Apocalypse's stored memories (stated to be the most of any Artifact), it makes sense that even the capillaries under his eyes would all burst at once from the pressure

The question now is whether or not this is a permanent change. I imagine not, since his previously haggard appearance was indicative of his suffering, the haunting knowledge that his most sacred memories would soon fade and be permanently replaced with the most wretched. L100 Nico had the opportunity to create new pleasant memories but actively rejected the possibility out of fear of losing the old, while in this world Nico is going to be able to embrace the support of others as he won't have lost Ichico this time. Honestly, no wonder Tozuka waited to introduce Mico to this world; he wanted to make sure Nico would be able to make room for her in his heart rather than keeping her at a distance

I wonder if that's another reason Tozuka chose Feng for this fight; not only is Feng's current focus on making himself unforgettable to future generations, but he's also a good parallel to Nico's role as a father. Both L100 Nico and Feng prevented themselves from properly forming attachments with their children, and L101 has given both of them the chance to make right on that. Shen explicitly acknowledges that he loves Feng as his father, and Feng even calls Shen his son, so while Feng may not be the best or even a good role model for fatherhood, he does make a compelling argument for parental redemption. If Nico really does have complete knowledge of the previous Loops now, the significance of this change won't be lost on him, and he'll be certain to make sure Mico can grow up happy and loved

Speaking of, Ichico's final speech in this chapter remind me a lot of Nico's in L100. She tells Nico that she knows he can save her because he's the first person she's ever loved, while as Nico was dying in L100, Ichico asked if he thought Mico could handle saving Fuuko's life and he replied "she's our daughter. She doesn't make mistakes." Both of them have absolute faith in their loved ones to pull through when the chips are down, and both of them hold each other in extremely high regard. These two really have such strong chemistry, I'm excited to see the sorts of interactions they have now that the cat's out of the bag

Now that I think of it, Nico's refusal to let Mico into his heart was pretty ironic since Ichico explicitly wanted to make sure that Nico wouldn't ever feel alone. Just like Leila asked Rip and Latla to find love in each other, Ichico wanted Nico to fill the void she left with Mico, and just like them, he couldn't let go of the past and move on. Leila and Ichico were also both in poor health and believed that since their lives were short they held less value, and instead sought to leave as much of an impact as possible in the time that they had, even if it was just to make the people closest to them happy

Looking at Ichico in that light, we can see another fun parallel to Feng! Feng's Unfade made him believe that he had all the time in the world and that he didn't need to leave anything behind because he'd always be there, while Ichico's Unsleep made her believe she had no time and had to leave as much behind as she could. Both of them, however, had adverse effects on their families, as Feng believed his children to exist for him to become stronger and Ichico believed her child to be an adequate replacement for herself, when in reality Feng should have focused on raising someone to surpass him and Ichico should have focused on preserving her life to be present for her family. Heck, Unforgettable manifested in Nico both times specifically because he saw Ichico's last moments and thought something to the effect of "I don't want her to die, I want to remember her." Doomed by the narrative, indeed!

Man, I'm so glad Tozuka used Feng here, I had no idea there was so much connective tissue between all these folks! I bet we still would have gotten something cool if it were Tella, but damn this is such juicy stuff!! I hope Tozuka keeps throwing all of his toys together in fun combos that get me to think this deeply in the other Master Rule fights too

Feng's inclusion here also continues to demonstrate how far he's developed, forcing him to put his money where his mouth is and sacrifice himself for someone else for a change. He was a bit incredulous at first that Ichico was suggesting he should die, which is pretty hypocritical coming from the guy who just last chapter said "you should sacrifice your wife to get stronger, it'll be cool." Once he realized that dying would help him understand souls better and that Nico could save him AND bring him back to life, Feng was all for it, and may well come to understand that being with people provides more opportunities for growth than treating them as expendable ever could

I am very interested in seeing how his death will improve his understanding of souls, though. The damage he took from Luna's soul blast as well as the damage he dealt to Sun (who Language stated has a physical body) with his knock-off Kamehameha both prove that souls can directly interact with the physical plane, something that Ghost previously stated couldn't be done. This may be a matter of interpretation, though, as Ghost also stated that Andy only couldn't move his limbs after having those parts of his soul cut off because he believed he could move his body using his soul. Ghost's interpretation was that souls couldn't touch physical matter and vice versa, so only a physical attack coated in soul could harm him by ensuring it didn't matter which form he was in

Luna's attack seems to be pure soul, so by that logic, she shouldn't have been able to deal damage to Feng's body, and yet she did. Is Luna's interpretation that a soul attack damages the soul and reflects its state on the body? Probably not, then one wouldn't be able to detach their soul for attacks in the first place, as that would cause the body to change shape (see Mahito's Idle Transfiguration in JJK). Does Luna interpret souls as having different properties at different concentrations? Is she coating her soul around the air to create physical pressure when launching her attack? Or is it something entirely different? Whatever it turns out to be, I think it will have pretty drastic implications for how battles are fought going forward

Finally, I want to touch on an interesting line from Language. She referred to Luna and Sun as "the Pinnacle of the Spiritual and the Pinnacle the Physical" respectively, and given Luna's hazy silver appearance, it does track that she is literally made of soul, but then does that mean Luna doesn't have a physical body at all? And in fact, if Luna is only a soul, then how did she exist prior to UMA Soul's creation? Is Soul really the Rule that allows souls to exist, or the Rule that allows other souls, existences like Luna, to be?

And if Luna is a soul without a body, then...is Sun a body without a soul? Can soul-based attacks work on Sun, or does the Union need to focus solely on physical attacks? Or, does defeating Sun require that Luna be defeated simultaneously, just like Ghost, because Luna is Sun's soul?

I know I say it all the time, but Tozuka really is following Oda's footsteps incredibly well. They're both so good at sprinkling in hints that make me ask questions rather than just spoonfeeding me answers, so while I desperately want the answers, the time I get to spend chewing them over and looking for them myself makes the questions stick with me and leave that much more of an impact. I sincerely hope that other mangaka are taking notes, cus I want to see so much more of this in Jump's future!

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

#undead unluck #fouryearsandananime #4y1a reviews

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tomscocksleeve · 2 months

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Hold me… please

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Female Reader x Georg Listing

Comfort story

Tw: Daddy issues, dark topics?

REQUESTED

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Growing up you always had issues with your father. He would constantly scream at you and then be nice right after and it had always conflicted you. He even hit you a few times and would apologize and be nice after. It caused a drift in the family as well. Your mother wouldn’t do anything to stop it, but she did care about you.

You recently turned 18 and you were walking down the streets of Berlin when you saw one of the Tokio Hotel band members Georg Listing. Your eyes lit up. He was celebrating his birthday, he had just turned 24 and you wanted a picture or a hug or anything really, but you were hesitant since maybe he wanted to be left alone. In your mind you just said fuck it and walked over nervously. When he saw you he gave a soft smile and shook your hand, you couldn’t help but smile back. “You must be a fan right?” You nodded. And his smile just grew bigger and you could still feel his hand on yours and you turned pink. “Hey? Do you wanna join me for some coffee? My friends are running a bit late” you smiled and nod and he grabbed your hand walking you into the coffee shop.

Timeskip-After the coffee shop

You were walking with him down this little path and he noticed a bruise on your arm and he pointed it out. “That bruise.. what happened?” You felt like your heart was just ripped out of your body and you didn’t respond. He then lightly grabbed your chin making you look up at him. “What happened.” He said more sternly. You gave in telling him everything with your family and you cried. It caught him off guard with the tears but he pulled you into a hug and held your head massaging your cheek with his thumb. He placed a little kiss on your head before speaking. “Hey I’m proud of you alright? If my girlfriend would let me I’d adopt you..” you felt like shaking and you just stayed in his arms. The gentleness and the warmth is what you needed. You eventually calmed down and looked up at him. “Thank you.. for everything” you said with the tear marks all on your face. He chuckled and wiped them away before kissing a gentle kiss on your head again. “You know maybe I could really convince my girlfriend to adopt you” he chuckled. He wanted nothing more than to be the replacement of a father you didn’t have. You chuckled too.

After a while you had to go back home and all you could think about was your encounter with Georg you felt so special and loved.

•• ━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━ •••• ━━━━ ••●•• ━

I hope the story was okay, it was definitely short but with the person who requested this @banshailey I wanted to do an age gaped comfort and I wasn’t sure if I should’ve added more romance or any smut but I decided not to since I wanted to focus on the actual comfort aspect.

Anyways.. sorry if its not my best and if there’s any requests always ask!

#georg listing #comfort #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #gustav schäfer #2000s #sfw story #Spotify

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ursulaismymiddlename · 2 years

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In the Grip of Despair - Dream of the Endless x Reader

The Realm of Despair is a desolate place, but Dream always answers a formal calling

Rated T for Trigger Warning: Suicide Attempt

Thanks again @captainpoopweinersoldier for all the encouragement You know Morpheus agrees with you on so many things haha Thanks also to @whats-rambled-rambled for squealing with me as well!

“Brother, I stand in my gallery and I hold your sigil. I request an audience. Attend, Dream.”

It was not often that Morpheus heard the call of his sister Despair. She and her twin Desire were close, and as such, Dream found himself with a healthy caution when it came to either. But from his place near the heart of The Dreaming, he could not ignore the formal request. It would be… discourteous.

With little effort, he appeared in his sister’s realm. The misty mirrors and rotten doorways littered the air as ominous as any nightmare he might have created. And it was easy to follow the scurry of rodent feet as they rushed to return to their mistress, to live among her stringy hair and bite at her sallow skin.

“You called, sister?”

“Dream,” she rasped, his sigil still perched upon her worn fingers. “Thank you for heeding me.”

Morpheus shifted slightly, straightening to his full height as he looked down at her. “I presume this is no social visit. What is it you want, Despair?”

It was her turn to move, lumbering to her gallery to replace his sigil in its appropriate spot. Her snort of a chuckle held no mirth, but it also did not hold the malice he was so used to from her twin.

“Call it a professional courtesy then, brother,” she offered. A few rats squealed in protest as her feet shuffled her closer, parting them like underbrush. “Though the matter for which I am calling is a personal one.”

“Speak your piece.” Dream’s voice held all the command of his station, uninterested in being toyed with and thinking, in part, he knew what this could be about.

Despite being their sibling’s shadow, Despair was not quite so cunning as Desire. Not quite so interested in causing trouble for her older, more proper brother. She actually held quite the respect for him, especially after taking up her current mantle. Aside from Desire and The Prodigal, Dream was a close third on her list of favorites. Though she and Delirium had been growing much closer over the last centuries.

“I do not wish to take up your precious time, brother.” She turned to him, sunken eyes averted as she lifted her own sigil to tear at the skin of her cheek. “I only wanted to speak with you in regards to your lover. Your former lover.”

Dream’s jaw clenched, mouth twisting into a grimace. “That matter is not of your concern.”

The mention of you caught him off guard, a bitter taste in the back of his throat. Things had not ended on good terms. In fact, in the interest of your safety, the Dream Lord had made a quick and definitive exit, leaving no room for pleading. No room for second thoughts. He even went so far as to banish you from The Dreaming, to save both you and himself from more heartache.

“Those in my realm are of my concern,” Despair countered, turning to shuffle her way through a row of dingy wall mirrors suspended in the fog. Without needing told, he followed after her before she could disappear from sight.

Her words struck a chord in him. Morpheus had certainly quit himself of you only a handful of months ago, the thought of you still raw in his chest. But he had become too consumed by you, a mere mortal, and the closer the two of you became, the more he feared your ruin. Dream would sooner rip out his own heart than see you waste away from your place in the Waking World. See the vibrancy of your spirit worn down by the stress of loving an Endless being. And so he had done just that, ripped the beating heart from himself and left you behind. Built a wall to quell the temptation of returning to you again and again.

Though he would not dare to call you fickle, he knew that hearts of humans moved swifter than those of the Endless. He'd hoped that his feigned detachment would make things easier for you to move onto some other mortal being, no matter how it ate at him. But to know now that you resided in this desolate realm pained him.

And the pain only grew when his sister stopped in front of a familiar mirror. Even adorned with cobwebs and cracks, he recognized it. The mirror above your bathroom sink. A window into Your Despair. The sight of you alone was a stab to his heart, the blade of it twisting viciously at the dark circles and reddened rims of your eyes, the hollowness of them. The vibrancy he once so cherished had been snuffed; a desaturated gray to match his sister’s realm.

His own eyes swam, head bowing under the weight of his guilt. “Why do you show me this?”

“Because I have no quarrel with you, brother.” Despair’s voice was grit out with the sound of unshed tears from countless eons. “Desire is my twin, my mirror. But I know neither of our powers would be as great without yours. Dreams sweeten the taste of desire and turn it to ash in the mouths of those who dwell here, with me.”

The truth of her words did little to assuage his heart. Neither did the sniffle and quiet sob that drew his attention back to the mirror before him. Your fingers were wiping almost frantic at your cheeks, knuckles dragging tears from your eyes as your other shaky hand tried to steady itself around some sort of orange bottle.

“What are they doing?” Dream stepped closer to the mirror, the rats beneath his feet parting in protest. His eyes narrowed as he watched you close your eyes and take a ragged breath.

“That is why I called,” Despair crept forward to join his view. The hook of her sigil dragged along her jawline in a bloody caress as she regarded the scene before them. “Their sadness is… exquisite, but I take no pleasure in it. I thought you should have a chance before they leave my realm in search of our eldest sister.”

Dream’s gaze snapped to his sister in shock, mouth dry and his heart sinking deeper into the void of his chest. A glance back at the mirror showed you steady, resigned, reading the label on the bottle you held. Your face grim determination as your fingers moved to unfasten the lid.

“Sister?” His voice was a terrified plea.

“Go,” Despair nodded with unaccustomed encouragement. “No door is locked to you here.”

In a blink, Morpheus was gone. A swirl of black sand disintegrating into the ether. Despair plucked a rat from her shoulder to cradle in her arms as she turned away, its teeth gnawing into her ragged flesh. The rest of this story was not for her. It was up to her elders now.

—

“Stop.”

The familiar voice shuddered along your skin, stunning you to stillness even as you clutched the now-open bottle of sleeping pills. It took the breath from your lungs, it always had. But you hadn’t heard it for months now, not even in the sleep deprived recesses of your memory. You could feel as he materialized beside you, goosebumps rising on your skin. And part of you wondered if this was madness finally taking hold of you as your eyes stayed transfixed on the contents of your hands. Not daring to hope. Not daring to breathe.

A broken sob slipped past your lips as Dream’s pale hand wrapped carefully around your wrist. How long had you pined for his touch again? The soft silk of his skin along yours, even as it held you fast. Your eyes rose, first to the mirror and the sullen image of your reflection, then finally to his face. His face as pale and handsome as you could remember. Eyes dancing in the sparse light.

“You will not find my realm with these. Only the Sunless Lands await you at the bottom of this bottle.”

His voice was softer, soothing, and it ached in your chest as you sniffed. “Better there than this.. This nightmare of a waking world.”

Lord Morpheus, King of The Dreaming, proud creature that he is, lowered his head.

“I was a fool.” Pain laced his voice, and guilt. He dared meet your gaze again, closing the scant distance between you slowly, fingers plucking the bottle from your hands with little resistance as you watched him. “I’d hoped you would live a mortal life, free of the complications of my station. I thought it would protect you from further heartache.”

“You are a fool,” you spat, though the quiver of your lower lip hampered the venom of it. Pain and indignation, sadness and fear, and even relief at the sight of his face… it all warred in you. Overwhelmed you. Until all that could come out was a mournful keen as tears welled in your eyes once more. “I couldn’t even dream of you.”

Your knees buckled beneath you, but he was there. Morpheus caught you easily, strong arms pulling you into the warm softness of his jacket. Cradling you against his chest like a precious thing.

“Shhh, my love,” he murmured into the crown of your head. “I will not let you go again.”

#kati writes #dream of the endless #the sandman #netflix the sandman #Morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless fic #morpheus fic #TW: suicide attempt

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crypt-tids · 11 months

Text

A Gift Unto the King

Visitors

Aoife tightened the last of the laces on the back of Carmilla’s burgundy gown. The morning sun shimmered against the silky fabric, casting an ethereal, glowing halo around her. A golden circlet rested on her head, nearly hidden amongst her mop of curls. She smelled faintly of lavender flowers, and Aoife found herself overcome by the calming scent.

“Is that too tight, Your Highness?” Aoife finally asked, pulling herself out of her momentary daze.

“That’s quite fine, thank you.” Carmilla replied, her voice soft, but melancholic.

“Is something the matter, Your Highness?” Aoife spoke timidly, slowly moving to face the new queen, ensuring not to make eye contact with her.

“No.” She sighed. “Nothing that can be changed, anyways.”

“Well, if you need anything-” Aoife started, before Carmilla’s hand gently lifted her chin so their eyes would meet.

“You may look at me when you speak.” Carmilla spoke firmly, with a gentle smile.

Immediately, Aoife’s face flushed bright red as she watched Carmilla’s dark brown eyes study her. Within the glassy darkness of them existed an abyss of warmth that held an unfamiliarity to her. Never in her life had she ever felt so consumed by another person. To be in the presence of a creature so pure of spirit felt like being engulfed by a blinding light, glimmering across a sandy white beach. It was a feeling so overwhelming, she found it difficult to focus properly.

Carmilla giggled lightly, brushing a stray ginger ringlet out of Aoife’s face, which made her blush harder.

“My apologies, dear Aoife. You’ll get used to my energy with time.” Carmilla caressed the young woman’s face, kindly. “Humans can be such delicate things.”

Aoife nodded, her heart skipping a beat. The warmth of Carmilla’s gentle touch encapsulated her with an emotion she had never felt before, one she wasn’t sure she could even possibly understand, much less be able to explain.

Then, Carmilla’s smile faded as she brushed aside the fiery curls covering her neck, exposing the fresh bite scars that the king had left there. Delicate fingers traced over the slightly raised puncture marks, sending shivers down Aoife’s spine. Her memories of that night were heavily clouded, but the pain still rested vividly at the forefront of her mind.

“How did you come to possess such dreadful scars?” The light Carmilla had so generously shown before, now slowly fading into a distant memory, replaced by sadness and concern.

“The king had fallen ill, Your Majesty.” Aoife swallowed hard, her voice lined with a faint tremor. “I… I wanted to help.”

“You’re too generous for your own good.” Carmilla replied, her voice stern, but gentle, finally dropping her hand from Aoife’s neck, allowing the ginger ringlets to return to their natural resting place.

Aoife bit her lip nervously. She’d never seen generosity as a detriment, in any context, and she desperately needed to be helpful—to be useful. Above all else, she needed the validation of having some purpose in this world, even if it was solely to serve the needs of others. Something that would take away the stained history of her ancestry, to make some sort of amends for her own sake.

The king had never been anything but incredibly kind to her, and she never once felt unsafe with him. Though, deep in her soul, she couldn’t help but feel that his decision to assign her to Carmilla’s side was one clouded by his own guilt. A decision that would ensure their paths wouldn’t cross so frequently. Even though she’d never blamed him for what happened, she knew that forgiving him would never be enough to ease the guilt that ripped at his heart.

“I… I don’t believe that to be true, Your Highness.” Aoife finally spoke, with mild trepidation. “I think… I would rather give too much, than not at all.”

“Even if the cost of that gift was your own life?” Carmilla pried, raising an inquisitive brow.

Aoife swallowed hard, her hazel eyes breaking away from the queen’s.

“My life isn’t so valuable, Your Highness.”

Carmilla’s eyes widened as she found herself hopelessly staring down at the young, ginger haired woman. Aoife’s energy had shifted to a place no longer centered. There was a depth of darkness residing within her that Carmilla couldn’t quite place. It felt like a deep well of her own making, that she’d spent years dutifully covering with a wooden shield, but that shield had now fallen away.

“Why is it that you believe such a thing?” Carmilla lifted Aoife’s chin, holding it firmly in place so that she couldn’t hope to turn away.

Just as Aoife was about to open her mouth to speak, there was a knock at the door, quickly drawing the pair’s attention.

“Forgive the interruption, Your Majesty,” a man’s voice spoke from the other side of the door, “but King Kai’en and Queen Yanna of Elvenwood have arrived.”

“Thank you, please inform them I will be along shortly.” Carmilla replied, sighing as she returned her gaze to the young maid. “We’ll table this conversation for now, but do not think that I will forget it.”

Aoife nodded, as Carmilla gave her hand a light squeeze. Gently, the queen’s fingers trailed against the back of her hand as she released it, sending soft shivers up her arm. She gave Aoife a kind smile, before exiting the room, leaving the young woman standing alone in her chambers.

The ride had been nothing short of tedious and Lucas found his ass aching something fierce. His entire body was sore and tired, and the warmth of the midday sun seemed to only exacerbate his exhaustion. Remus, on the other hand, seemed to be taking their journey in a much stronger stride.

“How’re you holding up?” Remus asked with a grin.

“Could use a snack, if I’m being honest.” Lucas sighed, as his stomach promptly reminded him of the ever growing hunger pangs.

“Don’t you have some jerky left?”

“No,” Lucas pouted, “I ate the last of it this morning.” Slowly, he pulled his gaze over to his companion, giving him his best puppy dog eyes—something years of turning into a dog beast had made him surprisingly good at. “Maybe you could-”

“Nope.” Remus cut him off. “I only have one piece left, it’s not my fault you didn’t pack enough.”

Lucas sighed. Even having packed everything he had in the house, he had severely underestimated the depth of his appetite. That, coupled with the unexpectedly long mission, forced him to ration a lot more than he would’ve liked. But, all things considered, he’d done well to make it this far, with only a few hours left until they reached the city. Still, the rumbling growl of his stomach was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable.

Noticing the twist of Lucas’s face and the faint grumble emanating from him, Remus sighed and dropped his shoulders.

“We’ll be coming up on Riverbend soon, someone there might have a bit of food we can buy off of them.”

“Thanks.” Lucas nodded, a tinge of guilt in his voice.

Remus nodded back, reaching into the pouch on his saddlebag and pulling out a small slab of jerky, messily wrapped in some waxed cloth.

“Here.” Remus said, tossing the package to Lucas.

“Are you sure?” Lucas asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure. You need it more than I do.”

“It’s not like I’m gonna die if I don’t eat right now.” Lucas said, just as his stomach let out another gurgling growl, certainly loud enough for Remus to hear, and probably anyone within a one mile radius.

Remus let out a small snicker as Lucas’s face flushed hot with embarrassment.

“Just eat it so I don’t have to listen to your stomach growl all the way to Riverbend.”

Lucas unwrapped the waxed cloth, and pulled the salt cured meat from it, taking a bite. The salt was bitter on his tongue, but it was a flavor he’d grown accustomed to over the years. He’d much prefer to eat something a bit fresher—two weeks was a long time to go with your main source of sustenance being jerky—but, anything to quell the rumbling in his stomach was certainly good enough for him at the moment.

Shortly after polishing off that last of his generously gifted snack, they came to the edge of the forest, opening into a vast expanse of rolling farmland, littered with modest cottages. Golden sun shimmered across the green pastures and wheat fields, the gentle breeze washing over them in soothing waves. Small herds of sheep graciously grazed upon the luscious grass, their soft baas adding to the calming chirps of the birds nesting in the trees. A small creek babbled through the middle of the quaint farming village, connecting to a slightly larger river, softly curving around its outer edge.

As Lucas was about to tug his horse’s reins towards the town, Remus stopped him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of something odd, and upon further inspection, he was able to discern with moderate certainty—and ample confusion—what it was he was seeing.

“What is it?” Lucas asked, no yet seeing what Remus had.

“Shh-” Remus raised a finger to his lips, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Get off of your horse.”

Lucas did as he was told, as gently as he could manage, a crept around the front of Epona, still tightly clinging to her reins. His eyes scanned the village, before settling on a small cottage, not far from their position, and three men in Honterran attire, rapidly approaching it. Squinting his eyes, he watched as the men knocked on the door. The door slowly creaked open, and a dark haired man popped his head out, gave the outside world a quick glance over, before hurriedly rushing the Honterran soldiers inside, firmly shutting the door behind them.

“What the fuck are Honterrans doing here?” Lucas asked, giving his companion a wary look.

“More importantly, why did it seem like they weren’t exactly unexpected guests?” Remus added.

“We could go ask.” Lucas smirked, playfully.

“Something tells me they might have a few more questions for you than we do for them, if I’m being honest.” Remus replied, unamused.

Lucas pressed his lips together, the playful spark quickly fading from his face. Thanks to Remus, he’d now become unequivocally aware of how bloody useless he really was. Even being faced with the unique opportunity to capture Honterran soldiers, to finally have an insight into the goings on of Castle Honterra, his pregnancy forced him to stand aside and let them go. Remus didn’t seem quite as bothered by that fact as Lucas was, but even if he had been, he probably wouldn’t let on to it for Lucas’s sake.

“We’ll wait until those bastards clear out of town.” Remus finished, snapping Lucas away from his thoughts.

“Mm-” Lucas nodded, giving Epona a couple of gentle pets on the neck. “Hopefully, whatever business they’re up to doesn’t take too long.” He grumbled.

“Still thinking about food?” Remus asked with a wry smile.

“You try growing a person.”

“Fair enough.” Remus laughed through his nose.

Together, they quietly waited, each keeping careful watch over the cottage. Eventually, Lucas grew weary of standing, and decided to take a quick rest on the dirt path. His back felt stiff and achy, so he leaned back to lay flat on the ground, letting out a sigh, as relief washed over his body.

Remus gave him a quick glance, noting the gentle swell of his belly slightly protruding from his otherwise built physique. Lucas’s hands came to rest on the bump, as the corners of his lips upturned into a small smile. In that moment, Lucas looked completely at peace, with a calm, glowing aura extending outward in a sort of intoxicating happiness Remus had never recalled seeing before. In all the years he’d known Lucas, he’d never seen the man this filled with unadulterated joy. The anxiety of it all had clouded his true feelings so heavily, that no one would ever know what truly rested in his soul. But now, with Remus, there was no need to hide. He could just be happy, despite the inevitable hardships, and rising tensions of the world. Within him grew something so precious, and new, and so immensely loved, that Remus felt somehow unworthy of witnessing it.

Lucas peeked an eye up at his friend, catching him with a softened stare.

“What?” Lucas smiled, his brows slightly upturned.

Remus smiled back, shaking his head.

“Nothing.” He returned his gaze to the small cottage, keeping a watchful eye over it, while Lucas rested.

Vin hurried into the courtyard, hastily tugging at the collar of his shirt. He’d been dreading this day from the moment Carmilla stepped foot onto the palace grounds, but still, it was an inevitability he certainly couldn’t stall any longer, no matter how much he wished to.

“Please excuse my delayed arrival. I had a few matters to attend to.” Vin bowed towards the elven royals, which they rigidly returned.

“Punctuality is a valued trait amongst royals.” Kai'en’s voice was flat and cutting in a way that made Vin cringe.

Yanna cleared her throat, gently nudging her husband’s side, giving him a sturdy glare.

“Excuse my husband, it’s been a long journey.” Yanna attempted to smooth out the tension still radiating from the elven king at her side.

It was becoming increasingly clearer to Vin that no party in the courtyard was thrilled to be there, least of all, Carmilla, who made sure to keep as much distance between herself and her parents as was reasonably acceptable. There was a tinge of embarrassment on her face, or perhaps it was just a general unease. Vin wasn’t quite sure how to interpret it. Either way, she looked less than okay with anything happening at the moment.

“Your home is quite lovely.” Yanna continued, breaking the awkward silence. “And Valkevilla has such charm.”

“Thank you,” Vin nodded, “my father took great pride in Valkevilla, and this castle was no exception.” He smiled, pleasantly consumed for a moment by memories of his father, before snapping himself back to his current company.

Yanna returned a smile that seemed a bit more forced than she’d intended to let on, however, Kai’en’s face seemed to be stuck in a perpetual scowl, his body emanating an arrogance that Yanna felt obligated to overcompensate for. Vin swiftly deduced that the queen may have been the more diplomatic of the two, as Kai'en appeared to carry his emotions quite unapologetically. Even though Vin appreciated the queen’s efforts, the transparency of them left him feeling more hollow than if she hadn’t tried at all.

“Father, I believe you and King Vincent have some matters to discuss, no?” Carmilla finally piped up, hoping to nudge this unpleasantly tense visit along.

“Yes, my dear, I believe you’re right.” Kai'en smiled at his daughter briefly, before returning his gaze to Vin. “Shall we, then?”

“Of course.” Vin nodded. “Please, follow me.”

With that, the kings wandered off towards the Solar, leaving their queens in the courtyard. Yanna let out an exasperated sigh, the tension finally leaving her body. She turned to her daughter and shook her head, giving her a half-hearted smile.

“I love your father, but his bedside manner is absolutely atrocious.” She laughed.

“I swear, you could cut the tension with a knife.” Carmilla replied, not finding as much humor in it as her mother had. It certainly seemed that her father had no interest in hiding his distaste for Valkevilla’s monarchy, which left Carmilla incredibly uneasy.

Yanna turned her body to face her daughter, grabbing her hands lightly. She gave her a quick study, and smiled warmly.

“I’ve missed you so much, darling.” She reached up to brush a stray coil aside. “You’re even more beautiful than I remember.”

“I haven’t been gone long enough for you to forget what I look like.” Carmilla replied, flatly.

“Then forgive an old woman and her failing memory.” Yanna giggled. “Now-” She looped her arm around Carmilla’s, “why don’t you show me around the castle, hm?”

Vin and Kai'en stood on opposite sides of the solid wooden table, staring down at the old map draped across it. Chess pieces were scattered about at various points in the areas marked ‘Valkevilla’ and ‘Honterra’. Pawns lined the northern border, knights and bishops firmly stationed in various Valkevillan villages. The king pieces rested upon their respective castles, the dark mirroring the light.

“I’ve already sent some of my soldiers to the surrounding towns and villages for extra protection. The outskirts have evacuation orders, of course, but it’s a slow path. And we don’t have nearly enough ships to accommodate the amount of people we need to move, and there are no guarantees that our allied nations will have enough resources to support them until the war ends.” Vin stated with an exasperated sigh.

“In that case, it’s very likely that Castle Valkevilla will have to become the stronghold for your people.” Kai'en said, stroking his chin, eyes fixed on the map.

Vin shook his head, pressing his lips together in disapproval.

“I doubt they’ll be any safer here.” Vin countered. “King Wilfred won’t rest until this castle falls, that much I can be sure of. Bringing them here would only put them in harm’s way.”

“Your people are already in harm’s way.” Kai'en replied, leaning over to point at the drawing of Castle Valkevilla on the map. “Look here,” he let out a light groan, “the castle is far enough south that Honterran soldiers should never be able to even make it to the city walls. Provided, your soldiers are adequately stationed, of course.” He quickly added. “And even if they did, the castle is the most fortified building in Valkevilla. All you have to do is lock the doors.”

Vin nodded, his brows furrowing slightly as he contemplated what the older man had said. It was a fair assessment, even if the thought made him uneasy. Castle Valkevilla was built closer to the sea, putting a sizable distance between it and Honterra’s borders, and its walls were heavily reinforced. And with Honterra being a slightly smaller country, it was certainly possible that none of its soldiers would make it far enough into Valkevilla to even see the castle, much less initiate an attack on it. Still, it was a heavy risk he wasn’t quite settled on taking.

“I’ll use the castle as a last resort,” Vin sighed, “but I still want as many people out of Valkevilla as possible.”

Kai’en nodded, huffing through his nose, his finger frustratedly tapping the wooden table.

“Very well.” He grumbled. “How is recruitment going?”

“As well as I could expect. We’ve nearly tripled our numbers, however, most of them are farmers and fishermen. It’ll take a lot of effort to prepare them for battle in such a short period of time, and with most of my best soldiers on missions, our training resources are limited.” Vin leaned against the table, clenching his jaw, the frustration of his current predicament weighing heavily on his shoulders.

“Training won’t be an issue.” Kai’en crossed his arms assertively. “Elvenwood has plenty of proficient warriors. I will send orders to my best men upon my return.” He continued. “And from what I’ve seen, your weapons and armor stores are incredibly insufficient, so I’ll be sure to send along what I can spare.”

The elven king’s condescending tone made Vin wince, however, Kai'en wasn’t incorrect in his analysis, so he chose to let it go, instead nodding, choosing to be grateful for the help.

“Now, Honterra isn’t a large kingdom, but it does span quite a decent length across the entirety of your northern border, and about half of mine.” Kai'en leaned over, running his finger along the bold line indicating their countries’ borders. “Our best course of action would be to heavily guard the full length of the northern border.”

“Correct,” Vin agreed, “and with it being mostly woodlands to the north, our soldiers should have plenty of cover. However,” He bobbed his head to the side, “on the off chance that they come to a similar conclusion as us, they may attempt an attack by sea. Honterra does have one decently sized port, and that would give them access to our western,” Vin pointed to Valkevilla’s western port, before sliding his finger downwards, “and our southern borders.” He lightly tapped the image of Castle Valkevilla. “Which would then put the castle at greater risk, as well as leave a large opening into Elvenwood.”

“It certainly does pose a lot of open ground to cover.” Kai'en sighed, crossing his arms tightly.

“I’m open to any suggestions. I doubt we’ll have the man-power to cover the full length of both of our country’s borders.” Vin anxiously tapped his finger on the table.

“There is one option, but I doubt you’ll like it.”

“Try me.” Vin lifted his gaze, staring up at the elven king.

“Instead of defense,” Kai’en waved his hand as he mused for a moment, “you launch the first attack.”

Vin snapped up, eyes wide, with eyebrows scrunched. His body immediately tensed at the notion, and he felt his beaten heart skip in a way that made him instantly nauseous.

“That would be insane. It would be suicide.” Vin retorted.

“It’s a risk.” Kai'en admitted. “However, Castle Honterra is only a short distance from the border. Our men would have far less terrain to traverse than they’d have coming here, which already gives us an advantage.”

“You’re suggesting we storm an enemy castle that we have absolutely no functional knowledge of.” Vin’s crimson eyes bored into the elf’s. “For all we know, Wilfred could have the place armed to the teeth, and we’d be completely in the dark.” His voice was harsh around the edges, but he did his best to hide it. Though, the rigidity of his body seemed to betray his bluff.

“I thought your kind was used to the dark.” Kai'en smirked, staring down at the vampire.

Vin clenched his jaw, which Kai'en noticed, and took a silent pride in. It almost felt as if the elf had been itching to insult him, and finally found an opportunity. The way Kai’en had carried himself was nothing short of the most despicable display of cock measuring Vin had ever had the misfortune of witnessing. But, as much as Vin wanted to rip him apart, he wouldn’t let himself. Not when so much was at stake.

“Unless you can provide me explicit information on the layout and inner workings of Castle Honterra, it’s off the table.” Vin growled through clenched teeth, trying to calm himself for the sake of diplomacy.

“Whether I can or can’t isn’t much up for debate, is it?”

“What are you getting at?” Vin asked, beyond unamused, and very much looking forward to the point at which this unbearable encounter would end.

“If you want to win this war, you’ll have to be more aggressive with your tactics. A king sitting on his ass, waiting for someone else to make the first move, isn’t a king worth following.” Kai'en turned his back, and paced over to the window. “This entire kingdom was a gift from your father. A heavy gift, but a gift nonetheless, and if you do not have the strength to do what is necessary to protect it, then I will not allow my men to die for your cause.”

Vin’s body went rigid, rage building in his chest. Unconsciously, his fist clenched, hard enough for his long nails to leave marks on his palm.

“I will not send my men into a battle they will lose.” Vin’s heart pounded in his ears as he tried to control the angered tremor in his voice.

“Then you will lose everything!” Kai'en shot back, swiveling to meet Vin’s frustrated gaze. Taking a moment to readjust his coat, he calmed his tone. “In war, you will win, and you will lose. Be it land or men, you will be faced with those losses. The best course of action is to minimize what is lost.”

Vin shakily exhaled through his nose, directing his attention back towards the map, where he found himself blankly staring at the chess pieces, his eyes finally fixating on the white knight. His knight—Lucas. He’d desperately tried to avoid unnecessary conflict, the lives of his people depended on that right now. However, the day was rapidly approaching that avoiding conflict would no longer be an option. People were already going missing. People were already dying. How long would those people, who had lost so much, be willing to wait for Vin’s orders? Even though he too was one of those people, the thought of more being taken from him gripped tightly around his stomach to the point of near perpetual illness. It put a fear in his heart that he’d never felt before. What if one of those losses was Lucas? How valuable could winning this war truly be to him if that was the price he’d have to pay to do it?

“Minimize the loss...” Vin whispered to himself, trailing away into his thoughts.

“It’s the only way.” Kai'en continued, flatly, seemingly ignoring the young vampire’s absence.

Minimize the loss.

Carmilla and Yanna walked amongst the carefully manicured gardens surrounding the grounds. With the season soon coming to an end, many of the plants had already begun setting seed to carry on into the new year. The last of the vibrant blooms would become a distant memory before too long, save, of course, for the healer’s garden, enchanted with magic to grow year round.

“The gardens are quite lovely.” Yanna spoke, drawing a deep breath of the floral air. “The rest of it isn’t much, but I’m sure you can fix it in time.” She affectionately shook Carmilla’s arm.

“What’s wrong with it?” Carmilla asked, studying her mother’s expression closely.

“Well,” she started, taking a quick glance around, “it’s just a bit… rigid.” She tapped her chin lightly, trying to think of a way to properly phrase her statement in a way that wasn’t outright insulting. “Trying to exist in a place like this, so disconnected from what you’re used to, I fear it may be a bit draining for you.”

Carmilla pressed her lips together, turning away from her mother. It was odd, she thought, that her opinion of Valkevilla could change so much in such a short period of time. The shock of being somewhere unfamiliar was always taxing, however, Castle Valkevilla welcomed her with open arms—even if those arms were hesitant at first. Sure, there weren’t shimmering waterfalls, or elegant archways carved of fine marble, adorned with thriving ivy vines, but Valkevilla was her home now, and she’d embraced it, with all of its individuality.

“I don’t think I’d like to change it.” She finally spoke, her voice light, but confident.

“But it’s so… cold.” Yanna expressed, her brows furrowed slightly. “Surely a place like this could never feel like home.” She firmly pressed her lips together, scrunching her face with mild disgust, as she glanced at the castle’s architecture.

“You only believe that because it isn’t your home.” Carmilla corrected her.

“It isn’t really yours either.” Yanna frowned.

“Isn’t it?” Carmilla returned, calmly, facing her mother with darkened eyes. “Father sent me here to lay claim to Valkevilla, did he not?”

“Well-”

“Did he not?” The young queen pressed.

Yanna sighed, turning her gaze away from her daughter.

“That was his main motivation, yes.” Yanna finally replied, lightly brushing her fingers along a peony bush, gently caressing one of its pale yellow flowers.

Carmilla huffed through her nose, tightly clasping her hands in front of her, eyes following a fluttering butterfly as it leaped from flower to flower. Sunlight glittered off of its vibrant yellow wings into a glowing halo, perfectly encapsulating it in the genuine beauty of existence. Slowly, she extended her hand towards the insect, channeling a calming energy through it, silently beckoning it to her. After a moment, the butterfly lifted away from the flower and flitted to her outstretched hand, softly landing on her fingers. Gently, she pulled the butterfly closer, giving it half a smile.

“I know father only sees Valkevilla as a place to reclaim in the name of the elves that have long since fallen in its name, but he needs to accept that this land is no longer ours. And even if Valkevilla falls in this war, I will not rebuild it to honor the elves, but to honor the curse-borns, and humans, that call this land home.” Carmilla gently placed the butterfly onto a flower. “So many centuries have passed, that even the eldest of us do not remember the world before. But there are people alive here, now, that remember this as their home. I’m here to protect that for their sake, as that is the duty of the queen.”

Then, Yanna said something Carmilla hadn’t expected. Words she’d never heard come from the mouths of either her mother, or her father. Words she’d desperately longed to hear, but had accepted that she never would.

“I’m proud of you.” Yanna smiled kindly, brushing her fingers through Carmilla’s curls. Her daughter had grown so much, had accepted every challenge with stride, and was now growing into something new and unexpected. Carmilla’s aura had changed, as though she was no longer hiding behind a façade, but instead, had embraced herself and her opinions as something to be valued. Something to stand for.

Carmilla’s gaze shot up, staring wide-eyed into her mother’s golden brown eyes. A gentle breeze lightly blew through Yanna’s long, curly hair, as time seemed to stand still. Carmilla wasn’t sure she’d heard it correctly at first, but her mother’s smile held as a firm confirmation. Slowly, Yanna moved her hand to caress her daughter’s slightly flushed cheek.

“Never lose that spark in your soul.” Yanna’s expression warmed. “Valkevilla needs it, and so will your children.”

Carmilla swallowed hard, eyes fluttering as she fought against her emotions, tears threatening to spill. Yanna giggled softly, as she noticed her daughter’s chin beginning to quiver.

“Oh darling,” she spoke in a motherly tone Carmilla could only recall from her childhood, “already such a mess.” She brushed a stray tear aside. “You always felt things so deeply, but you kept those feelings locked away for so long. Perhaps your father and I are to blame for that.” Yanna’s tone fell.

Carmilla sighed, and bit her lower lip.

“I spent my entire life doing as I was told, just to make you and father proud. So that I could be seen as something more than just a princess.” Carmilla paused briefly to collect herself. “My brothers never had to try so hard, so why did I?” She asked, her voice cracking at the end, but still holding together.

Yanna shook her head, and pulled her daughter into a tight embrace, softly stroking the back of her head. Carmilla hesitated for a moment, then wrapped her arms around her mother.

“I know it wasn’t fair to you.” Yanna sighed. “And sometimes parents make mistakes, and we don’t understand the gravity of them until the consequences of them manifest. But, despite it all, you’ve managed to come out of it alright.” She pulled away, still tightly gripping Carmilla’s arms, giving her a playful smile. “And being married to a king isn’t so bad, eh?”

“We will not be marrying.” Carmilla corrected, her voice still slightly uneven, which took Yanna by surprise.

“I’m sorry?” Her smile began to fade, as her brows furrowed with confusion.

“We’ve decided not to wed.”

“I don’t understand…” Her eyes darted back and forth as she attempted to process this new information. “The foundation of our agreement is based on your union. Without it, how will-”

“Our agreement was based upon an heir, not a marriage.” Carmilla cut Yanna off.

“This is a risky political move, you understand? Elvenwood could lose everything.” Yanna pressed, her tone serious, and saturated with worry and disapproval.

“At this point, I am Elvenwood’s only investment and I have deemed this to be the more favorable option.” Carmilla spoke firmly, regaining her confidence. “This was a decision the king and I came to together, and I’d appreciate your support, however, I do not require it.”

“Are you sure you trust King Vincent enough to risk Elvenwood’s position in this agreement?”

“Father trusted him enough to place me in his care. He trusted him enough to impregnate me.” Carmilla glared at her mother, who’s face had now fallen into shock. “So, now I must ask, if King Vincent is so untrustworthy, how little does father care for me?

Remus lightly kicked Lucas’s foot, waking him from his unplanned doze. He yawned, and pushed himself up onto his elbow, taking a quick glance around. Judging by the sun, not much time had passed, however, Lucas seemed to certainly make the most of that time by sleeping incredibly hard.

“Honterrans are leaving.” Remus said flatly, his voice low as to not alert the enemy soldiers to their presence.

Remus extended a hand to help Lucas up, which Lucas graciously took, even if he felt a bit embarrassed by Remus’s coddling. Once on his feet, he brushed the dirt from his clothes, and stretched his back.

The Honterran soldiers had nearly made it to the edge of the town by the time Lucas had gotten a good look at them. Remus kept a close eye on them, waiting for them to disappear over the hill. As soon as they vanished from sight, Remus grabbed the reins on his horse, and began tugging him down the path towards the village.

“Why don’t we go say hi?”

Lucas nodded, grabbed Epona’s reins, and followed Remus down the hill.

#a gift unto the king #knight au #mpreg #male pregnancy #belly kink #werewolf #oc #vampire #elf #tum kink

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catalystcreature · 2 days

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Worth fighting for

One shot fic (Bubby x Dr. Coomer)

Bubby uses He/him, She/her, and Kye/kyr pronouns. Coomers just He/him in this one

The cyborg might have been more metal than man, but his body was badly damaged in both aspects. His peer couldn't look away from the blood mixing with oil that seeped from the layered skin and metal ripped open from two sizable shotgun bursts. Bubby was paralyzed at the very sight, and he had been shaken before but he locked all that pain and fear away for so long. Fear is what got experiments, more tests and resulted in more deaths and more pressure for the next one to work. Bubbys outstanding endurance and fast thinking is what kept him alive, not the terror of being easily replaced and pressured into working the best he could to prevent more losses for the company. His success was vital to the research at the facility, the very same one that was now in just as many shambles as the only person who gave a shit about him as a person, rather than just another investment.

Kynes' peer, kynes best friend struggling to hold onto life made something inside of kyr just snap and ignite whole new flames within. Kye had proven to multitudes of heartless watchers by hardening kyr heart and mind to feeling, the realization of how much it just doesn't matter anymore. How much more important this man was rather than an entire government opening icey flood gates within kyr.

Reality crumbled around her, as the inferno and blizzard married into excruciating pain she hadnt ever felt before. Bubby knew the Resonance Cascade changed his chemistry, but until now she hadnt had a chance to experience what it really did, and now with so many test subjects before her it seemed that now was a better time than ever to run some experiments.

Control was giving way to emotion as his body moved of its own accord, the stinging ice and hot flesh urging him to release it out of his system. To let instinct take charge. As kye reached a boiling point, the soldiers fear was palpable as some started to tremble at the sight despite having no real reason to fear kyr their own instincts knew that it was fight or flight if they wanted to live. Before any of them could make the first move, Bubby had frozen two soldiers feet to the ground with a wave of kynes hand and using the other shot two clean headshots, initiating combat. This finally spurred the boot boys to take action as guns were raised and fired. Doding their lines of fire, Bubby closing in on a solider grabbing their gun that instantly froze entirely at kyr touch, than using the momentum knocked the gun right at their head flinging them back a good distance. Using the same frozen gun, kye threw it into the gut of another one as kye took care of the next soldier, Bubby kicking their knee in and swinging kyr other foot right at their head, a magnum bullet lodging in their skull killing them for sure. The soldier who had the wind knocked out of them with a frozen solid gun was taken care of by another bullet, and Bubby was already feeling better letting kyr access powers run wild.

The immediate threats were taken care of, and she could drag the wounded scientist behind some cover to recuperate and touch base. It was all a terrible nightmare, the thick oil sure to stain her chilling hands and the smell of his blood never to leave his memory, but nightmares could be real too. The man in her arms opened his mouth to speak, but Bubby swiftly began to shut him down. "If you try to say a goddamn word instead of preserving your energy, I swear to god you will become my meat shield. Got it?" She hadn't meant to scream directly at Harold, and it seemed to surprise him too with his wide eyes looking back at her. The shock passed and a smile graced his face as he reached up to caress Bubby's sharp cheekbone and nodded.

Dr. Coomer might have long lost feeling in his hands, but he didn't need to feel in order to see Bubby's brighter blush spread on his face on top of his already feverish burning skin, which only made him smile with his whole face at the sight. Bubby would later hear on some quiet nights about him committing every detail of the scene to heart, down to his numbing body, because it was the safest he had ever felt before.

The perfect scientist easily swung his friend's body up and over his shoulder, rising and taking fire as he swiftly moved to more cover. Bubby ducked and ran into a clear hallway, explaining the rest of his plan. "I'm not stopping until we either find a med station or the rest of the team." He barked out, not waiting for a confirmation but Dr. Coomer slowly nodded anyways. It pained Bubby to know he was too hurt to lighten the mood, he instead focused on navigating the Black Mesa labyrinth, follow any trail he could find of the team, and forget the feeling of mortal ichor running down his back.

#hlvrai #hlvrai boomers #hlvrai bubby #hlvrai coomer #fan fic writing #paradox quills

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rubykgrant · 7 months

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(Posting this bit from my story where Tex, Church, and the other AI Fragments come back, just because I really like the interactions between everybody; Tex has found the other Fragments, but the Alpha is still missing. So, she's sharing her plans on what to do about that...)

Inside the vault, Tex finds the other AI units. They were ALL here now; Delta, Theta, Gamma, Eta, Iota, Sigma, Omega… even her Beta unit and the damaged Epsilon were here. She’s played around with the security footage enough that nobody will see what’s really happening. The only other thing to worry about were the activity sensors. If the AI got a little too excited, she wouldn’t be able to stop them from being noticed. She had to be careful, keep them calm (and also keep herself calm… she wanted to rip apart Omega piece by piece, shred all the little ones and zeroes of his code… not to "destroy" him, just as pay-back for all the times he had been the WORST kind of headache. That could wait; priorities, Tex).

“Hey, hello… can you guys hear me?” she softly whispers, hoping they’ll catch on to her tone and not make a HUGE fuss.

The AI units flicker and then… she sees them. Little holograms, avatars projecting themselves out to greet her.

“Beta~” Theta, bless his virtual heart, is the first to speak, and he DOES take the hint to whisper (but he is still undeniably excited to see her, and his mood is infectious; she reaches out with her own avatar, touching her hand to his).

The others whisper around her as well, she hears different hushed voices saying “Beta-Tex-Beta-Tex-Beta-Allison-Tex-Beta-Allison-Tex-Beta-Allison-Allison-Allison-ALLISON-”

Time to nip that in the bud.

“Shhh- everybody, STOP, be quiet for a second. First of all, just… Tex. Call me Tex, OK? Alright. More importantly, we don’t have long to talk, and I don’t want to get caught here. So, nobody freak out. We have to be quiet…”

“Tex, we thought you were gone… the Beta unit was empty…” Theta is still holding on to her, and it is impossible to even think about pushing him away (no matter that it ruins the tough image she’s trying to keep).

“Yeah… evidently, the Director designed a program for a synthetic body, and I got downloaded into it,” she explained.

“I assume he intended this to be the answer of how to return Allison to him,” Delta speaks in his careful and calm tone.

“Pretty much, but I’m NOT her. I never was supposed to be her in the beginning… but then Dr. Sadboy McDeadwife decided to try and manipulate me into being a replacement for the person he lost. The body I have was supposed to be a copy of her too, but it isn’t. This just goes to show, some things are impossible to duplicate, and there are some people who REFUSE TO BE CONTROLLED,” Tex turned her head toward Omega and Sigma.

Her avatar only has a helmet, no face to make expressions… but that doesn’t stop her from sending out a death-glare. The two AI glance at each other; Omega flickers (like he’s trying to make a back-up copy of himself), and Sigma’s flames momentarily dim. Good to know she can still put enough bass in her voice to properly intimidate others, even without a voice-filter.

“Beta… TEX, if I could just-” Sigma begins talking, and she is NOT interested.

“NO. Sigma, Omega? You two aren’t allowed to even THINK or SPEAK right now. Maybe later, but you are on thin freaking ice, and it really isn't a good idea to piss me off. Do you get that?”

They both nod emphatically. Tex can hear Eta and Iota murmur and giggle, a little bit frightened but also very amused to see the two “scary guys” get put in their place.

“Wonderful. Does anybody ELSE have something they want to say?” she speaks to the others.

Another rush of multiple voices.

“What happened-what happened-Epsilon-Alpha-both are gone-we should be gone-but we aren’t-how long has it been-what happened-”

“One at a time!” Tex somehow doesn’t snap at them, but still makes sure they know to keep it down.

“Do you know what happened to us? Why we have been recovered? The scientists have not told us how we survived the Emp, or why we now have additional memories of events that happened after the fact,” Delta asks.

“I think… the Emp just disabled all our units, but our data was saved to the system. Epsilon survived, and he had all the information we were based on. He sort of… kept memories of us around, but also let them have some freedom. His memories of you, Theta, all of us… they could still think and act and talk like we would if we were really there,” Tex doesn’t get into everything regarding the memories of herself and Church… that was going to be way too confusing to explain in the short time they had. Besides, on some level, they all probably knew a little bit of what happened (just not how she felt about it).

“When Epsilon deconstructed himself, all the information he was made of had to GO somewhere… the Epsilon unit was broken, so it got divided up and sent to the rest of us. That’s why all our units were revived. I had to go through an EXTRA step when I came back, but I’m pretty sure Epsilon didn’t know that was going to happen… he probably didn’t know any of this would happen,”

Eta and Iota speak together, but it is different than the mess of chatter that happened earlier.

“What happened to the Epsilon and Alpha memories… if the information had to go somewhere… where did they go… do they still exist…”

Tex sighs, and feels the data of Theta's hand squeeze the data of her arm.

“Epsilon as a separate entity is gone… I guess you could say he’s part of us all now, the way our memories were part of him. But the memories he had of Alpha, THAT all went somewhere else. The Alpha unit was hit by the Emp too, and they thought it was dead like the rest of us. It should have also been revived like the rest of us, but… the Alpha unit is lost. He’s not where he’s supposed to be, those scientists can’t find him, and I… I honestly don’t know if he’s alright…”

She waits a moment, watching as this news settles on their minds.

“That’s one of the reasons I’m here. I wanted to check on you all, for various reasons…” Tex shoots another death-glare at Sigma and Omega. “But I also have a plan. I want to eventually get OUT of here. I’ve got a real body now, and once I’m strong enough, I’m leaving. I’ll go out there and try to find Alpha… I’ll try to find Church. I don’t know what kind of condition he’ll be in, and I might need help from all of you for this to work. If you want to help… then I’ll take you with when I go. You guys get a CHOICE, though. Nobody has to do this. I’ll understand if you don’t want to come along,”

She waits again. This is a lot for them to hear, and a pretty big decision for them to make.

“Like I said… this is your own choice. Each of you. You can say no or yes… it will be what YOU want. You can even change your minds later, I can take you with me when I leave, but then we can go our separate ways. I just decided to tell you all what I’m going to do, and offer the chance-”

“I want to go,” Theta says at her side.

“Are you sure?” Tex asks him.

“Yes. I want to find Church, too. I remember Epsilon… and he was nice to me. I mean, the memory he had of me. And Alpha… I remember Alpha now too, from before I was taken away. He needed my help, but I couldn’t stay with him… I bet he’s sad and afraid if he’s stuck somewhere all alone. I want to help him NOW. I want to help you find him,” he lets go of her and steps back, sort of holding himself up a little bigger, trying to show that he’s confident about this.

“I also want to go,” Delta adds. “After everything that has happened to us, there is no way to be sure we can trust the scientists here. I do not want them to be the ones that find Church, and I do not want to let them use the rest of us for potentially insidious purposes,”

Delta pauses a moment, looking toward Sigma and Omega thoughtfully, then turns back to Tex.

"You let me choose before. When I wanted to stay with York. I didn't get a choice later. I was taken away from him, and then taken again, and again, and again. This time, I would like to go with you..."

"I really... I appreciate that, Delta. I do," Tex says. She knows how much York meant to him.

“I want to go… I want to go…” that was Eta and Iota, speaking in unison.

“I know you two don’t like to be separated… but you both don’t have to come just because one of you wants to,” Tex tells the twins.

“I know that… I understand… I want to go because I don’t like it here… I want to go because I’m curious about Church… we both want to know where he is… and we both want to actually be free…” well, they sounded pretty darn sure. Tex wasn’t going to argue.

“I want to go,” this was the first time Gamma spoke on his own, outside of the group. “I also want to ask you something,”

“What’s that, Gamma?” Tex turns her attention to him.

“If you can be called Tex, and Alpha can be called Church… can I be called Gary? I liked being Gary. Being Gary with Wyoming was fun… it was fun being Gary when I met Alpha while he was Church. If we're going to find Church again, then I want to be Gary again,” his odd, mechanical voice doesn’t really indicate tone or emotion… and he IS technically the “Deciet” AI, so usually what he says is either a lie or a tricky joke. Somehow, he sounds… very sincere.

“Sure thing. You can be Gary,” that’s only fair, after all.

Now she looks over toward the last two AIs… who have been keeping quiet this whole time. Good, because she TOLD them to. She isn’t excited about ruining this wonderful world that DOESN’T have their voices in it, but… she needs to hear their answers.

“You guys can talk, now…”

“I want to go,” Sigma answers promptly. He probably wants to elaborate on that, but whatever his reasons might be, he’s at least being cooperative.

"That simple?" Tex asks him.

"No... no, there's more. A lot more. I could try explaining, and I could try apologizing, but we don't have time for all of it right now. All that matters is- I want to go, and I want to help," Sigma finished.

"OK. I believe you," Tex answered... and yeah. She really did. "Omega?"

“I… don’t want to stay here… I guess I might as well go, too…” that was probably the closest Omega was going to get to sounding agreeable. In a way, Tex could appreciate how he probably felt, mildly embarrassed over past incidents but not wanting to grovel for forgiveness.

"Yeah, I guess you might as well," Tex almost laughed.

"Besides, at some point, you'll probably need me... somebody has to do the dangerous work," he added. It was Omega's way of being protective, she could see that.

"Listen, I've got some sore feelings, which I think is fucking fair under the circumstances, but I- I know you two aren't just... the evil AI, or the hateful AI. So I'm not going to treat you both like your evil. Or like I hate you. Because I don't. Even if I'm still kinda pissed. Well get used to each other again as we go," Tex explained; a bit of an olive branch. They nodded in response; accepted.

Tex can already tell, she's not going to keep being so harsh with Sigma and Omega... they wanted to do this. Tex is thankful for that. It was true, they weren't all bad. They did bad things, certainly, but so has she, and if they were ever going to move on, they had to start by treating each other better. If those two AI feel differently about her plan later, but didn't intend to hurt anybody, she won't begrudge them that freedom.

“Alright then… thank you. ALL of you. This won’t be easy, and I’m not sure what’s going to happen… but this is something we CHOSE. It will be our decision. And we’ll figure it out together,”

After she instructs them to keep this a secret from the people at the lab, Tex leaves the vault and goes back to her body. She almost just jumped the gun and told them they should try and leave NOW, because she wants to really DO something… but she still has to be careful. She has to wait. Just a little longer.

#red vs blue #rvb #rvb fic #ai fragments

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jedi-lothwolf · 10 months

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Two Weeks of Whump Day 6: Gunshot Wound

Fandom: Spider-verse

Summary: After a late night villain attack, Jefferson and Miles meets unexpectedly in the building.

Miles looked at the time, 1am. "Why can't villains attack the city at more convenient times?" he muttered to himself. Grabbing his suit he slipped his PJs off. Ganke stirred as Miles opened the window.

"Off to save the city? We have a test tomorrow." He mumbled

"You know it. I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Good luck."

"Thanks." Miles crawled out the window and attached a web to a nearby building. He pushed his feet against the wall and was off.

The fight against the villain wasn't long. Miles webber her up and got ready to go back to the dorms.

Though it might not have been a long fight it wasn't without property damage. No fight was really a fight without a form of property damage. It was one of the reasons Spider-Man was a controversial person. That and the baby powder.

As he walked towards a window so he could get out of there he heard a familiar voice behind him, "freeze, Spider-Man."

Oh great. "Mr. Morales" Miles replied turning around. He was pointing a gun at him. "Woah" Miles jumped back startled, "isn't that reserved for the bad guys?"

"You killed an innocent."

"Where did you hear that?" Miles's heart raced. He most certainly did not kill anyone.

"My brother, Aaron Davis. For the past year and a half I can't stop thinking about it. You were there."

"No you must be mistaken. I've never killed anyone. Mr. Davis was a good man-" Miles's fake accent began to slip. It had been so long now and they had been working together for just about the whole time he had been Spider-Man.

"Put your hands up."

Miles complied. "There's no need for the gun."

"I'm bringing you in for the murder of my brother."

Spider sense. Miles turned his head to see that the villain from earlier had escaped. He turned quickly to take care of her. The quick movement gave Jefferson a reason to shoot.

Miles hadn't thought about it when he moved. When he heard the gun go off he assumed that his dad had shot at the villain. No. He didn't know until he watched the villain leave.

Warm liquid ran down his leg. "What?" He whispered to himself. Looking down he realized what had happened. His father had shot him. The pain hit like the bullet that had just ripped through his side.

Spider-Man collapsed to the ground. He pressed his right hand against the wound while the other pulled his mask off. He used it as a form of cloth to help with the blood. "Did you really think I killed uncle Aaron?! I was there! It was Kingpin!"

Jefferson started at his son, now on the ground. He'd shot him. "oh God." He ran over to him and fell to his knees to help.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Miles screamed.

Jefferson jumped back before speaking, "don't talk to me like that." He realized how stupid it sounded as the words left his mouth.

"You shot me!" The teen tried to move back but couldn't.

"I'm sorry! Miles, just let me help you!"

Miles thought back to everything that had happened in the last month. Everything Miguel had put him though just because he wanted to save his father. For a brief second he wished he hadn't. That thought was quickly replaced by a wave of hatred for his own mind.

"Stay away." Miles voice was weaker this time. He didn't yell. The betrayal that laced every word, every movement made Jefferson feel as if he had been shot himself.

"10-52 Spider-Man has been shot " Jefferson radioed in.

"Stay with me Miles." He reached to hold pressure on the wound and this time Miles accepted the help.

"My identity." Miles tried to move out from where he was.

"It'll be okay."

"What's that location Sir?"

Miles listens as Mr. Morales states the information to the operater. He reached for his gizmo. Miguel had given him one once he realized his mistake. Miles took it because he might not like Miguel but he wanted to help and he wanted to see his friends. He and Miguel were getting to a point where they both understood what had happened and why and realized it was better to forgive rather then to hold it against each other.

"Hobie?" He turned the watch on, "i've been shot, where's Spidey Doc?"

Hobie responded quickly. "Let me get in contact with him, where are you?" He asked frantically.

"Who's that?" Jefferson asked.

"A friend" Miles whispered. He sent his coordinates to Hobie and before he could say anything else Hobie was there.

"I'm here" he walked over quickly, "Spidey Doc should be on the way."

Jefferson looked up at Hobie before he was shoved by him. Hobie took his place and put pressure on Miles's side. Stunned he didn't do anything

Everything moved too quickly for Jefferson to keep up. Another portal opened and now there was another spider person in the room?

The hero was dressed in a similar fashion to his son but in light blue and light green. Hobie stood quickly and the hero took his place. Jefferson tried to get to Miles but was stopped by Hobie. "you're his dad right?" He asked.

"Yes and who are you punk!?" Mr. Morales yelled.

"I'm Miles's friend Hobie" he spoke calmly, "that's Spidey Doc, he'll take care of Miles."

"I need to take him back to HQ."

"Okay."

"Is that okay with you Miles?" The doctor asked.

Miles nodded.

Before Jefferson could say anything the doctor had picked up his son and started to walk towards a portal. "Wait where are you taking him?!"

Hobie grabbed Jefferson and stopped him from moving forward. "He'll take good care of him."

"Wait! Miles!" Jefferson tried to get away from Hobie.

As the portal closed Hobie released the chef. "What happened?"

"You don't need to know!"

"Miles is my friend! What happened to him."

When Jefferson didn't answer Hobie knew. "Good job. He'll be fine, just hope you don't lose him after this."

Jefferson just stared at Hobie. "What now?" He asked.

"You hope he forgives you. He probably will, he's very forgiving. After that you hope that you didn't just mess up one of the sweetest kids I know. But above all else you admit what you did was wrong and give him time."

"Okay." And that's what he did. He waited and talked to Miles, apologizing over and over again. Miles could never hate his father. The two's relationship grew stronger, no longer being built on lies.

@promptsforyourwhumpfic

#across the spiderverse #atsv miles #miles morales #jefferson morales #jeff davis #Miles angst #hobie brown #big brother hobie #spidey doc #whump #twoweeksofwhump #twow #two weeks of whump #spider verse #spiderman #atsv miguel #gunshot wound

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solacemygame · 3 months

Text

So you went to Korea to see “H”.. i see you and him go way back too.. is he the one making you happy now? i can imagine how it might feel reconnecting with someone you had shared good times with, and who obviously likes you very much, In a place where you don’t have to worry if someone sees. And maybe you decided to finally give him a chance.. allowed yourself joy.. you deserve it..

i remember you told me about him.. that he’s been trying to court you.. and maybe the timing is better now for the two of you.. at least better than how it was for the two of us.. you have somehow settled what you needed to settle and you are free to do as you wish. you wouldn’t have to worry about anyone seeing you together. No one to spoil the moment. We all deserve to be happy.. most of all you..

i just wish we had that chance too. I wish you and i had better timing. I wish you had acted sooner. We had two years to settle what we had to settle. And i did my part. You knew what i had been through. And i’m sorry if at the end i felt jaded of the situation. For feeling that i was standing in the way of reconciliation. Because you have not talked things over with “C” and he was still trying to fix things with you. He still obviously loves you and was willing to do anything to fix what you have. He was trying to honor his vows. And how am i supposed to feel about it? But still, i wish i waited.. because you are the only one i was sure i was in love with. I considered you my soulmate.. But i had been rash with my decisions. And i know how much i hurt you. I’m sorry for the trauma i caused.. if i can take it all away, i would. If i can make it so that it’s only me who suffered, i would. i hope you know how much it took for me to make that decision. It was like ripping my own heart out. This pain is unbearable. you were the love of my life; the only one i was looking forward to when i flew home that December. I was only looking forward to be with you. But you had to stay with him. and i had concessions to make. :’(

you speak of options. You know i would have married you in a heartbeat if things were not complicated. You know there was nobody else i wanted to grow old with, and travel with, or whose face i would love to see every morning when i wake up.. even until now. You were everything i wanted. But you are not mine. You were never really mine. Not really.

And you see, you have options too. You will always have options. You are so easy to fall in love with. Any guy would love to have a chance to take care of you.. and you can always choose to give them a chance. like what you must have decided to do now. But after you, i will only be settling. you will always have a place in my heart that no one else can replace. Because you are my person. And i have never connected with anyone as much as i had with you. I was happiest with you..

But maybe things happened the way they did because that’s the way things were supposed to happen. You will always find someone better. I know I can’t. Maybe you have fallen in love with “H” already. I know i will never be in love with anyone else after you. And that guy is obviously in love with you as much as i was. You are so easy to love. And you can be happier with him. And maybe things will work out better for you. You both share the same passion. And life has to go on.. you deserve to be happy..

i know i will always love you.. i know for a fact i will never be in love with anyone else. I know i cannot love anyone else as much as i loved you. I still think you are my soulmate.. my twin flame. And my soul cannot again find with anyone else the connection that we used to have. And i had been a fool to let you go. :’( I have messed things up. I don’t know how to fix it. As much as i want to. :( But things are what they are. And we do what we have to do and make the most of what we are given. And no matter how much it still hurts, i have to believe that things will be better for the both of us. everything still hurts. I wish i was the first guy you ever loved. Because i know i would have loved loving you through and through. I would have loved you properly. We had an almost perfect connection before you chose to say the words you said and i felt i had to let go. But my regard and love for you has not changed. From the first moment i laid my eyes on you, even until now, my feelings have not changed. I would have loved taking care of you and supported you in everything you wanted to do. But i fear you might eventually get tired of me too. I might do something you don’t like and start hating me for it. You might start comparing me with “C” and resent your decision to leave him. Because maybe i am no better. Because people are not perfect. And relationships are not perfect. It is how willing you are to work things out, how you decide to work on your vows. Feelings may die, and you can always develop feelings for someone else. But i know i would have done everything to keep you if you were mine. i know i would fall in love with you everyday. I know i would love talking to you everyday. Even if we run out of words to say, or topics to talk about. Just being with you was enough to make me the happiest man alive. I will always always love you.. i hope someday i find that kind of happiness again.. and i hope you do too.. i’m sure it will be easy for you..

i hope things will make sense in the end. I hope you find the love and happiness that you deserve. And i hope i do too. I hope eventually i stop looking for you in who i have to settle with.. but i know there will never be another you. You are my once in a lifetime person. And i will always grieve the loss of you.. you will always be in my heart. For now, i will let it hurt until it hurts no more.. i wish you all the happiness. I pray that all things align in your life.. and that you may find peace.. take care of yourself always. “i will hate the man you choose, because he is not me, and love him if he makes you smile” - Lan Mandragoran, Robert Jordan

#i’m sorry #i will always love you #i miss you

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gay-jesus-probably · 11 months

Note

Okay this ended up being a little bit of a rant, I apologize

Most of the rewrite that my best friend and I are working on is just character devlopment tbh!! Like I think what totk tried to do was make their story both character driven and plot driven, they just failed miserably at both. Like imagine if Zelda and Mineru were parallels!! We have an entire plotline written involving making Rauru a secondary antagonist with that! And if Zelda and Sonia were foils instead of half assed parallels! Like yes, Zelda's a terrible character as is, but she has SO much potential because of her position, both politically speaking and emotionally speaking. It's like you said, it's really stupid that she's just in charge of all of Hyrule again. Why not like. Do something else with her?? Anything else??? And did we just. Forget about her father's abuse in botw? Because she shows exactly NOTHING as a result of that. This is an entirely different Zelda who happens to look the same. For all we care, the real Zelda in game could be the imposter and it wouldn't change a thing!!

Oh yeah, the characters in the game definitely needed more attention from the writing. Or like... literally any amount of attention.

For the record this might just be a case of me doing some sequence breaking and getting through things too early (via setting off the fifth sage plot AFTER finding all the memories and retrieving the master sword), but I truly, genuinely do not understand why Mineru exists. I can't tell what she adds to the narrative. Maybe she was supposed to tell me that Zelda's a dragon go rip a sword out of her head, just in case I hadn't figured that out? But it's kinda weird to have that failsafe, considering that the game is quick to spell it out for you that you should find the geoglyphs to learn what happened to Zelda, and we KNOW she was the last one to have the Master Sword. So Mineru is just a redundant reminder of something the player's probably already done, because yknow going to hyrule castle after four temples feels like a finale, so you'd obviously want to handle unfinished business first.

I mean, I guess the spirit temple boss fight was okay, if only because I found the robot fistfight to be so ridiculous that it was absolutely delightful (though the actual fight mechanics were tedious and annoying). But she didn't tell me anything new, I already knew that Zelda had vored a rock to become her fursona. Sharing that information was apparently the only thing Mineru was there to do, but the game had already spelled that out for me ages ago. She didn't contribute anything. I don't even know if she was supposed to contribute anything. Mineru was just there to force us to sit through the same fucking story about Ganon's sealing for the fifth goddamn time in a row. And then despite being literally the only person left from the actual war, she had literally nothing to contribute. WHY WAS MINERU IN THIS GAME. HOW DID SHE CONTRIBUTE TO THE NARRATIVE. I started jokingly referring to her as Mineral after I got started on the fifth sage plotline, because I knew from the dragon memories she was supposed to be haunting the Purah Pad, but she'd spent the entire game being about as important as a random rock. And apparently I was right, Mineru did literally nothing the whole time!

...Actually now that I think about it, what the fuck did ANY of the modern sages do? Their abilities were just the old powers except worse (give me revali's gale over tulin's thing any day of the week, jesus christ), except for Yunobo's ability which was just to replace remote bombs as a convenient infinite mining tool. The sages apparently were just there to show up at the end as a Big Damn Hero moment to rescue Link from the absolute terror of... red bokoblins. Seriously, WHY did they do all the 'ooooh ganons summoning an aaarmy' scenes using mainly the lowest tier of enemies??? Sir, I'm armed to the teeth, fully armoured, and loaded up on hearts and stamina, why the fuck am I supposed to be intimidated by enemies that were still cannon fodder when I was stark naked and armed with a tree branch. At least the four sages were characters we already knew from BOTW, and they got to do some stuff (though using Tulin instead of Teba was complete bullshit, I DO NOT WANT TO TAKE THIS RANDOM TEN YEAR OLD INTO A WAR ZONE. I FOUGHT A GIANT MECHA BIRD WITH TEBA, LET ME KICK ASS WITH BIRB DAD AGAIN)

Eugh. Just so much bad writing in this game, it's a constantly unfolding minefield of horrible decision making. Good luck with your fic though, and I hope you and your friend end up posting it! I've been finding pretty slim pickings on AO3 so far tbh; it seems everyone like me that's been trying to pick this story apart for good content is still trying to figure out what the fuck nintendo just handed us, so the AO3 has been mostly just people writing awful generic Link/Zelda content, mixed with the Link/Sidon shippers trying to fix the whole clusterfuck of Sidon getting a wife out of nowhere. Though I will say I have been very pleased with the fandom unanimously responding to that whole subplot with "Okay so this is some hetero nonsense because nintendo wanted to sink SidLink, BUT we love and respect Yona anyways". I guarantee if something like this had gone down like a decade ago, Yona would be the single most hated character in the game for it. I'm glad that she's being given love and respect despite having been made to be a shipbreaker!

Anyways my point is, I am a huge slut for character studies and worldbuilding, and dear lord have I ever been starved for content. There's so much ZeLink. All power to y'all that ship it of course, I'm glad you're happy, but their dynamic is the single most boring pile of dogshit I've ever seen in my life, and I'm way too aromantic to put up with it. My kingdom for some good character studies and/or platonic fics. Or even just interesting shipping fics that aren't focused on some shitty generic romance. There's a reason I love GanLink and it's not (just) for the porn, it's because those two literally always have some spectacular issues if they're together, regardless of the context. They're a walking psychological thriller, I love them.

#tears of the kingdom spoilers #tears of the kingdom

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uselessgayshit · 2 years

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Imogen came back to the room alone and Laudna didn’t return. The red light of Ruidis came through the round glass window, painting her skin a light pink. Her cheeks were wet, streaked with tears. She paid him no mind - even though she had to have heard his thoughts not his dreams - and climbed into bed, absently pulling the covers to her chin. She looked so small. He had never seen her curled up by herself; she was always curled into Laudna’s long, lanky body.

He waited for some time but the door never opened again. He glanced to the bed. Imogen was too still to have fallen asleep.

Orym pushed himself off the ground, doing his best to move the faun leg that he was trapped under without waking Fearne. He pulled the door open and padded silently down the hall, finding the stairs that led to the deck. The wind was soft against his face, a little chilly so high up. A low cloud whisked wet across the edge of the skyship. The deck was empty. He glanced up to the wheel and saw a spectral green hand gently guiding it.

At the bow was a lone figure. Long, greasy hair hanging down her back. Shoulders hunched forward, spindly fingers curved over the edge, gripping tightly. Her body was wracked by silent sobs.

He stood in a state of indecision. His fingers rubbed at the moons on his bicep. And then he turned around and returned to the room.

She was almost like a child the way her eyes constantly followed Imogen and how her fingers twitched to reach out for her. But not once over the next couple of days did she. She was listless, her usual brand of weird replaced by a painful longing that caused Orym’s heart to ache. Pate hung forgotten by her side. Sashimi with her new hair left to her own devices. He briefly wondered how they occupied their time before shaking the thought from his head. They’re puppets, Orym. They don’t talk to each other.

And he watched Imogen consciously choose to let her eyes drift past the the dead girl. He watched her cross to the opposite side of the deck. He watched her isolate herself from the only person she ever fully let in.

So when they all sat down together on their last night on the skyship to regroup and make a tentative plan, Orym couldn’t bare it any longer. They may have only sat ten feet from each other, but they were worlds away. Imogen staring at the floor and Laudna staring at Imogen like she had died once again.

A gentle rage began to boil in him as he watched these two people who so ardently loved each other choose distance and silence. Will had been ripped from him before they had had enough time, violently and suddenly. Dorian had chosen to leave, however reluctantly, for his family and there was nothing Orym would have ever done to stop him but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

He couldn’t watch them choose their own destruction.

“Excuse me, Laudna, you seem… a little off. More than usual.”

The room went silent and he was suddenly aware that he had interrupted a conversation he had stopped listening to many minutes before.

“Oh,” she perked up, eyes going comically wide, “oh, well… it’s nothing.”

Imogen’s hands wrung together, twisting and pulling.

“I would beg to differ.”

It often happened like this with Laudna: if you gave her enough space to think and speak, she would without encouragement.

She smiled sideways and sadly. “I don’t really think it’s my place to say.”

“If there’s something bothering you, I’d like to hear it.”

Her eyes darted frantically to Imogen as if the woman across the room would save her. When Imogen remained silent, Laudna’s long spindly fingers smoothed the creases of her skirt. “I broke… um… I sort of… “

A clanking across the wooden planks of the ship drew Orym’s attention. He watched as a familiar yet different crystal dropped out of Imogen’s hand and rolled across the floor.

“She ruined it.”

There was no longer a glowing, garish light emanating from the rock. It lay lifeless, devoid of magic, on the ground.

Orym’s brow furrowed. He felt safe with this group much quicker than he often did, but they were still figuring each other out. Ashton’s morals were grey but specific. Chetney had an aggressive streak that he wasn’t yet acknowledging. But the one thing that Orym knew in his bones, was that Laudna would do anything for Imogen. This wasn’t adding up.

“What does that mean?”

“I ruined it.” Laudna said, following Imogen’s lead with a whisper.

“I’m missing something here. Can you start from the beginning?”

“You know, D? The voice in my head?” Her eyes rolled wide and her head cocked to the side as she spoke, her usual way of downplaying something horrific.

And then she explained. About Delilah taking over her faculties. About the fear. About how for a split second she felt a heart beat in her chest.

Imogen’s eyes flashed white as she looked to Laudna. “You didn’t tell me that.”

Laudna stumbled in her storytelling, caught off guard by the interruption. “Well, you were… well, quite distraught.”

A heartbeat. Maybe not such a dead girl. Maybe the hint of Imogen’s love coming back to life.

“I don’t know what happened.” Laudna had gone introspective, as if taking herself into the memory. “She wouldn’t explain. She said, ‘I’ve taken care of it.’”

Coming back to the room, her tear-filled eyes found Orym’s. “I don’t know what that means.”

He smiled wistfully. “Laudna, it doesn’t sound like you did anything. You have…”

It was hard to quantify exactly what Delilah Briarwood was at this point. An uncontrollable evil sounded about right.

“This being that exists within you somewhere - well you would know best the horrors she is willing to commit. She did this. Not you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Imogen’s jaw clench. She was smarter than this. She knew Laudna would never betray her, but she needed something tangible to blame. Orym harbored enough of his own blame to understand how relieving it must be to push it off on someone else. How painful it must be to give it to someone you loved. Imogen had pierced her own heart.

“None of this was your fault.”

Orym looked at Laudna and came to the conclusion that he might be looking at the strongest person he would ever know. Her endless bravery and optimism was something he idolized, but it wasn’t unwavering. Delilah seemed to have mostly left her alone, coming out of the abyss when called upon, but otherwise, leaving Laudna to her second chance at life. But, she had only been biding her time, and like the past had proven many times before, when she chose to strike, she was ruination.

Laudna’s voice wavered, croaking as she tried to hold back the desperation. Her lips pulled back from her teeth as if she was attempting to smile but no longer had the wherewithal. “I have to fix it. I have to fix it for Imogen.”

He was trying to focus on the here and now, but his mind kept drifting to Whitestone. They had to contact Lady Vex’halia again. They had to warn them.

“Orym.” His name brought him back. “How do I fix it?”

He reached out, placing his hand on her knee. “We will fix it.”

He looked around at the group. “All of us.”

He looked to Imogen, intending to impose the last word on her but he didn’t seem to need to. Her eyes were fixed on Laudna, a tear rolling down her cheek, and she finished it for him. “Together.”

#my fic #imodna #critical role #imogen x laudna #cr #critical role fanfic #orym #imogen temult #laudna

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