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theangrycomet · 3 years

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Comparing KO’s (OK KO) Character Arc to Cassandra’s (TTS)

Ok THIS^ actually bothers me and I really hope it’s a shit-post. Sorry, @astratic, but you have inadvertently signed up for some Character Analysis.

Let’s establish one critical difference between Cassandra and KO before we really dig into this shall we?

Cassandra is a fully developed, fully functional adult roughly in her early to mid twenties.

KO is a CHILD, who’s age is literally 6-11, though fans typically agree that he acts in the 8-9 range. Additionally, he is commonly head cannoned to be on the Autistic Scale and/or ADHD.

Because of this, their decisions and actions need to be seen through different lenses.

Point 1: work tirelessly to become a hero like [parent] who you idolize

KO:

This statement perfectly depicts KO’s goals. KO strives to be a hero in order to help people to the best of his abilities. He hates being useless and powerless to help his friends, so he trains to be a better hero and works through his struggles with their help. He lives to be like his mommy and his father-figure. I mean, look at him when Gar praises KO and tells him how proud he is of him.

Cassandra:

Cassandra’s goals are different. She wants to be a guard at the end of the day for glory. She wants people to see and acknowledge her abilities and strength and admire her for it.

Yes, making her dad proud is a benefit of that, but that is NOT her driving motivation.

Point 2: Become discourage by lack of progress and hindrance by social status

KO:

Social status was NEVER KO’s problem. His stalling in progress, as I mentioned in another post, was a mental block. He couldn’t tap into his power He came from lower middle, working class family with a single mom.

Cassandra:

Social Status was her problem, but only up until the 1st season finale where she was placed as Captain of the Guard.

She had regular progress in getting more time and respect as a royal guard. The fact that She CHOSE to leave that behind in order to follow her crush on some half-baked, unplanned road trip is only the fault of her own. She threw out the chance she had been waiting for for her entire life to follow Rapunzel.

And than was given numerous opportunities through out the trip to leave and pursue other goals.

Point 3. Be Mentally Ill

Okay, first OP, you could phrased that WAY better.

Secondly, the mental struggles our characters face are completely different and largely incomparable so to group the two is insulting to both characters.

KO:

Disassociative Identity Disorder (or multiple personality disorder)

Possible Undiagnosed Autism and or ADHD

KO develops Disassociative Identity Disorder, due to his frustration at lack of progress, the manipulation of Shadowy figure, and his bottling up of negative emotions. KO is mostly unaware of what happens when TKO is in charge and vice-versa. It took the two a long time to figure out how to work together and eventually merge back into one personality.

He also demonstrates some traits typically associated with Autism and ADHD, though some of those could be on account of his age. It is a common head cannon amongst fans that his either and sometimes both.

Cassandra:

Cassandra doesn’t have to deal with any mental illness until the season 3 finale where it can be gleamed that she’s working through depression if you squint at it.

Yes, there is the Blueberry Ghost, but she was never a result of Cass’ mental state so much as her being host to the Moon Stone.

Her struggles lie in reigning in her anger and her pride so that she can see problems from unbiased perspectives and apologize for her actions. And that is left still unresolved by the time the finale comes around.

Point 4. find out long lost parent is actually horrifically villainous and have a whole crisis about it.

Perhaps, we need a little reminder here before I dig into this one:

KO is a child figuring himself out and Cassandra is an adult figuring out what she wants in life.

KO:

KO had been struggling with his darker side for quite some time before he asked his Mom about who exactly his dad was.

This was something the show had demonstrated time after time that bothered KO, not knowing who his dad was.

So he finds out his dad was this big time hero, and gets reassurance from that fact that he comes from great heroes, so he too can be a hero. Only for that to be immediately tossed out the window when it’s revealed that the only person he hates in the entire world, the person he dubs as the truly evil villain, is actually his father.

His whole world is not only shook to its core, but his self-confidence as well. Laserblast was a great hero who turned villain; what does that mean for a hero-in-training whose already struggling with that darker side.

Praise Carol for not killing PV on the spot.

Additionally, PV didn’t actually know KO even existed until a few months before this incident, and wasn’t even sure if KO was his kid (KO does coincidentally share a lot of Physical attributes to Gar) until KO came busting in, wearing Laserblast’s helmet and bragging about how his dad was a great hero.

So when they attempted to have that father-son relationship, it was as awkward and strained as it should have been. (I’ll get to the OK KO Finale in just a minute)

Cassandra:

Cass could have cared less as to whom her real parents were. She had her dad. She had her goals. She had her job. Who her parents were and why they dumped her on the Captain was irrelevant to her life.

She didn’t care until Season 3, and that whole season was OOC for everybody,

Even then, it wasn’t so much as a crisis so much as an excuse to use to fight Rapunzel. It didn’t matter that Gothel was her mother, it mattered that Gothel picked the Sundrop over her. Which in all honesty was the best thing that could have happened to Cass.

Her “crisis” revolved around a dead woman’s shattered legacy more than her mother.

Point 5: Fall under the influence of said Villainous parental figure

KO TKO: (again, a CHILD)

TKO was used and manipulated into letting his darker side show by Professor Venomous/ Shadowy Figure, (this is my opinion), in order to actually have something they could relate to eachother on.

Yes, Shadowy Venomous saw TKO as more of his tool for power, but you can’t deny that he wasn’t motivated to have his son by his side.

Additionally, KO had at this point literally locked away a part of himself because he didn’t have the tools to deal TKO with this mentally or emotionally. So he responded the best way he could and pushed the problem down so he and others wouldn’t have to keep cleaning up TKO’s messes.

KO was in desperate need for someone to understand how he was and how to help him.

And guess who was there.

Cassandra: (again, an ADULT)

Cass was never led on by Gothel, she was led on by Zhan Tiri.

Cass was delusioned that the moonstone was hers by Zhan Tiri just as much as Rapunzel was delusioned into thinking stopping the moonstone was her destiny by Demanitus.

However, Zhan Tiri really didn’t make Cass do anything, she never pushed her past the breaking point, she never forced her to do anything.

Baked Ziti only prompted Cass, reminding her what she was angry at.

Cass was perfectly capable of ignoring her and doing her own thing.

Point 6: suddenly and dramatically betray everyone you love even as they plead with you to stop. Become convinced they all hate you except for [villainous parental figure] who is actually just manipulating you to gain power.

This point is actually a very good description of what happened to both, given different contexts. Again, remember that KO is a child who is significantly more easily influenced than Cass should have been.

(Note: again, Zhan Tiri’s not her Parental figure and neither was Gothel)

Point 7: ruin everything and destroy your home

KO TKO:

His destructive rampage was motivated by the betrayal of the one person he believed to understand and support him entirely. He was literally grabbed by the shirt, lifted in the air, told he was nothing more than a tool at best, and that the plan to conquest together had been a lie.

Wonder where I’ve seen THAT BEFORE?

(Sorry about the low photo Quality, I quickly search and screen shotted so)

(yes it’s this scene that made me think Mad Ben and TKO would get along)

Cassandra:

Which betrayal are we talking about? Because both involve trained guards rightfully attacking Cass for injuring the crown royalty and wrecking the castle.

Point 8/9: snap out of it at the last second and be horrified at what you've wrought/ the world is fixed by an incredible magic. Reconcile with your loved ones. Flourish

KO:

This is accurate.

But KO didn’t have to lose his power to see how bad he messed up. He was actually at the top of his game. He probably could have taken out the President of the Universe if he really wanted to. Instead he begged for everything to get fixed, and wished that EVERYONE (even Professor Venomous) could live their best lives.

Cassandra:

She was only repentent AFTER she lost her power. Even then, she does not apologize for her actions but rather the circumstances and ONLY to Rapunzel herself. She does not care that she caused a world catastrophe, and still wouldn’t have had she won.

With how it was executed, Cass did NOT deserve such an easy redemption. She should have had to work at it. She should have at least attempted to apologize to the people whose lives she ruined. To the people she’s hurt. Not just Rapunzel. Rapunzel has no right to forgive her in place of everyone else.

Eugene should not have to forgive her.

Varian should not have to forgive her.

The Brotherhood honestly deserves to fight her in combat.

She should not have been able to ride off into the sunset and avoid the consequences of her actions.

BUT I digress.

IN SUMMARY:

KO and Cass, while they share some similarities, do NOT have the same Character Arc. At all.

Sincerely,

TheAngryComet

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waywardfangirl · 3 years

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I was incredibly fortunate to get to write for the wonderful @fight-surrender in the Carry On Secret Snowflake exchange, and she gave some of the best prompts I've seen. I ended up choosing to write a meet-cute (a meet-ugly, really) that takes place on the beach and centers around Simon's new fixation on the supposed dangers lurking below the waves.

I have to give a giant thank you to @foolofabookwyrm and @caitybuglove23 for being excellent betas, cheerleaders, and for helping me get the fic formatted and posted when my computer stopped working - you guys are the best! 💜💜💜

You can read the fic below, or on AO3!

Simon

I've always wanted to go to the beach. Growing up in care, I never had the opportunity to, but now that Penny and I are done with university and enjoying weekends without the threat of homework hanging over our heads, I finally can. Of course, we don't live close to the beach, so our day trip took some planning, but it gave me time to look up all the best places to eat, and it gave Penny time to watch every possible documentary about the ocean. I watched a lot of them with her, and while I know I probably won't see all of the tropical fish that swam across our TV screen, I'm still really excited to see the ocean.

Unfortunately, I also happened to be in the room while Penny watched some show called “Predators from the Deep”, or something along those lines, so my excitement is also tinged with trepidation (or outright fear) of some of the things lurking under the waves.

“Sharks aren’t anything to worry about, Simon! They don’t want to attack you, and the likelihood of even seeing a shark here is extremely low.”

“It’s not the sharks I’m worried about, Pen! It’s all of the other stuff, all those little parasites, and the poisonous things, and the spiny ones.” The documentary was filled with shadowy shots of spiked balls and spotted tentacles just waiting to attack some unsuspecting wader.

“Don’t eat any of it then,” she replies, hardly even paying attention to me as she smooths out her blanket and sets up the umbrella.

“What?”

“You said you were worried about the poisonous things, so just don’t eat anything you find in the ocean.”

“They can hurt me even if I don’t eat them! What about that one octopus?”

“That was venomous, not poisonous, there’s a difference.” She squirts sunscreen into her palms and then slaps them lightly onto my cheeks, not allowing me time to squirm away.

“Whatever, venomous then, there are still things to be scared of in there!”

Penny ducks under the arm I have flung out to point at the ocean with, and grabs two waters from our cooler.

“You’ll be fine Simon, I promise.” She shoves a bottle into my hands. “Rub in your sun cream, and let’s walk by the edge of the water, alright? You’ll like it, we can find shells!” She starts off, picking her way through the sand and looking back only once to make sure that I’m following her.

It turns out that the water feels quite nice, even soothing. The sounds of the waves and the feel of cool water splashing my ankles combine to make me feel safe. They make me forget about the horrors lurking off-shore.

Penny has a handful of shells and has started handing me others to put in the pocket of my swim shorts. I’ve found a few shells of my own too, but I stopped paying such close attention to the ground about ten minutes ago, when I noticed a man about our own age playing in the waves with his younger siblings.

He has dark hair, originally falling around his face but now wet with seawater and slicked back to emphasize his widow’s peak. He’s still too far away for me to tell what color his eyes are, but as Penny and I walk closer I’m able to make out more of his facial expressions. He seems to be putting on sneers for show and occasionally gives bright smiles for the younger kids swarming him. He’s wearing one of those long-sleeved swim shirts, but it’s clinging tight to his body. He looks like he could be a footballer with all of the muscles I can see, even at this distance.

I’ve been trying not to stare too openly at him, but I can’t really help it - there’s just something about him that keeps drawing me in.It’s almost as if I’m under some sort of spell or thrall. Right now though, I’m extremely glad I’ve been so captivated by him, because I seem to be the only person on the beach who realizes the danger we’re all in.

Curling around the man’s left ankle are the tentacles of an octopus, surely about to stick its fangs into him and inject him with its venom (or whatever it is octopuses do to kill people).

"Octopus!" I yell. I’m at a loss for any other words, but I’m desperately trying to warn Penny as I sprint off to rescue him.

"Ooh, where?" She doesn't sound nearly concerned enough for the looming threat of death hanging over us all, but I'll talk to her about taking proper safety precautions later. Right now, I have to go save the life of the prettiest person I've ever seen.

"Octopus! Octopus!" I can't seem to make any other phrases come out of my mouth, but eventually the man looks up to see me barreling towards him, flailing my arms and yelling at the top of my lungs. He raises an eyebrow at me, staying far too calm considering the mortal peril he's in, and glances behind him to see who else I could possibly be talking to.

Unfortunately, that means he's not paying attention enough to sidestep me when the combination of my momentum and adrenalin send me toppling into him. We both splash down into the small waves lapping at the sand and I scramble to extricate myself from his long limbs as quickly as possible, crawling down to examine his ankles and prepared to risk my own life if I have to pull the octopus off of him.

"What are you doing? " His voice is lovely and posh, the vowels round and smooth and expensive.

"Saving your life, mate, you're welcome by the way," I grunt as I make another unsuccessful grab for the tentacles.

"From what? All you've done so far is endanger me, pushing me down and holding me in the water." He pauses. "If this is your attempt at murder by drowning, I think I pity you. First, you caused a scene by yelling the whole way down the beach before you assaulted me, and now you're not even bothering to hold my head under this truly pathetic amount of water. You're an absolute disaster."

"I told you—" (why are these tentacles so hard to grab,) "I'm not trying to kill you, I'm trying to save you."

"Save me from what, exactly?"

Ha! I've got you now, evil cephalopod!

"This!"

I hold the octopus up in triumph, feeling the water drip onto my sodden hair.

"From… a clump of seaweed?"

"What? No. No, it's an octopus."

Slowly, I lower the mass in my hand down to eye level, and immediately I feel my cheeks flame in embarrassment.

"Oh. Right. Sorry, then."

I try to push back from him and stand up, but my hand won't release the seaweed (it really did look like an octopus!). When I try to move a wave hits me, washing the sand out from under my foot and making me flounder for a few moments, only compounding my embarrassment. When I finally look up at the man I accidentally assaulted, he seems entirely unbothered by anything. He's lounging back on his elbows, somehow managing to look down his nose at me even though I'm sitting up fully now, and it's simply unfair how defined his abs are, even under his shirt.

"Do you make a habit of doing things like this?"

His eyes are too intense for me to look at any longer, they're a grey color that seems to be shifting to reflect the ocean behind me, and I have to busy myself with peeling the green fronds of seaweed away from my fingers.

"Like what?"

"Attacking strangers or playing the hero, take your pick."

"Sorry. I thought it was an octopus and I didn't want you to die," I mumble. This prick should be grateful, where does he get off being so smug anyway?

"Why on earth would I have died from an octopus touching me?"

"Because they're one of the most deadly creatures on earth!"

"What? No they're not. Not the ones around here, anyway. The blue ringed octopus is incredibly deadly, but it lives in the Pacific Ocean."

"But, couldn't they-"

He levels me with a look that could probably set me on fire.

"Mordelia!" One of the children comes running over from where they fled when I tackled their brother. She looks to be about twelve or thirteen, and while she isn't quite as dark and villainous looking as her brother she still has his same air of superiority. "Does this gentleman need to be worried about being attacked, maimed, or killed by any octopuses while swimming today?"

This kid - Mordelia, I guess - levels me with the most condescending look I have ever seen, and just scoffs . Actually scoffs at me, like I'm an imbecile. (Although, I still have seaweed stuck to me, so she may be onto something there.)

"No. Most accounts of cephalopod attacks can't be proven, and the few that have been entirely substantiated occurred in vastly different habitats or under circumstances that this beach couldn't support."

With that, she turns and runs back to the rest of her family, leaving me with only a parting eye roll.

"She's going through a marine biology phase."

It's the first thing the dark haired man has said to me in a casual manner, and I startle a bit.

"Did you also have a marine biology phase?"

I think my question catches him off-guard, and I smirk.

"Perhaps," he answers after a beat. "But Mordelia's has been going on for three years now, so we think it may actually stick. Mine dried up after only a few months."

He smiles at me for the first time since I knocked him over, and it's almost painful how handsome he is, sprawled out elegantly on the beach like he's in an ad for expensive watches or cologne or something, and I can't believe I tackled him because of some stupid seaweed.

"I had a dinosaur phase," I confess, smiling back at him.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" I reach down to help him up, and I'm shocked at how cold his fingers are, and how much I want to warm them up in my own. It's too bad I made such a horrible first impression, I would otherwise be sorely tempted to ask him out on a date. "What's your name, by the way? You've already attacked me, had we been in cars we would have exchanged names and proofs of insurance by now."

I’m such a mess. I didn't even think to ask what his name was.

"Simon. I'm Simon."

I go to shake his hand, and then realize that we're still holding hands, and I feel my cheeks grow redder still.

"Hello Simon, I'm Baz. It's nice to meet you, although the next time we meet I sincerely hope you can refrain from throwing yourself quite so bodily at me before we've even said hello."

"Yeah, umm, I'm sorry, really, I-" My brain catches up with my mouth. "Wait, did you say next time? "

His mouth curls up into a grin, and he gives my hand a squeeze as I try to figure out how I messed up so badly and things still worked out so well.

"Of course. For our first date, perhaps we can go to the aquarium and you can see what an octopus really looks like."

#my fic #snowbaz #Down By The Sea #Secret Snowflake 2020 #fluff and silliness 😊

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rocorambles · 4 years

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A Cop and His Black Cat (Part 2)

Pairing: Daishou Suguru x Kuroo Tetsurou

Genre: Superhero AU

Summary: Daishou just wants to solve cases and live his life, but a certain Black Cat vigilante refuses to leave him alone.

Part 1, Part 3

Daishou wakes up to the sound of a beeping monitor and the sight of white walls. He tries to sit up, but quickly stops when pain lances throughout his entire body. He looks around as much as he can without moving to get a bearing of his surroundings and he realizes he’s in a hospital bed, his entire body neck down, bandaged like a mummy. “Thank kami-sama you’re up!” Daichi is rushing through the door and making his way to Daishou’s side. “You idiot! You shouldn’t have gone up against a villain by yourself. You’re lucky Black Cat was there to save you.”

Daishou scowls at the reminder of that night’s events and he flushes when he remembers how he practically cuddled into Black Cat’s hold like some lovesick girl. They exchange details of how the night had gone and Daichi confirms that Black Cat had apprehended the villain for them and stayed by Daishou’s side until Daishou was fully situated and being treated at this hospital. If it weren’t for his wounds, Daishou would have smacked Daichi for the way he waggled his eyebrows and smirked at Daishou when he mentioned how adorable the two of them looked together.

A knock on the door puts a halt to Daichi’s teasing and a doctor with the worst bed hair Daishou has ever seen walks in to greet them. “Hi, I’m Kuroo Tetsurou and I’ll be the one treating your injuries while you’re here.” Daishou can’t explain the instinctive way his hackles rise when Kuroo draws near, but he also begrudgingly admits internally that the man is good looking with his long, lean build, tanned skin, and cat-like eyes. He doesn’t realize that he actually hasn’t said a word or greeted the doctor yet when there’s an awkward pause and Daichi is staring at him like he has two heads. Kuroo grins. “Cat got your tongue?” Daishou splutters in embarrassment and exchanges names with the still smirking doctor and they discuss in detail what treatments and procedures Daishou will need. Turns out Daishou will be just fine, but he’ll need to stay at the hospital for the next two weeks for medications, wound dressings, therapy, and surgery. The two officers thank the doctor and Kuoo makes his exit. The door has barely closed behind him before Daichi is howling in laughter at Daishou for blatantly ogling the hot doctor earlier and Daishou wonders if he can die from humiliation.

The days pass and Kuroo and Daishou spend a lot of time together as he continues down his path of recovery. They learn a lot about each other as they share about their families, reminisce on their old shared love of volleyball, and laugh about their past relationships. Daishou can’t help the little seed of hope that plants itself inside of him when he finds out that Kuroo is currently single and when he’s alone in the hospital bed, bored out of his mind, he lets himself daydream about what dating Kuroo would be like.

One day as Kuroo is dressing his wounds, he asks the doctor if he has any abilities and he just laughs and says no. Kuroo asks him the same question and Daishou shares about the paralyzing venom he can excrete from his teeth. It’s not ideal to get close enough to villains to actually bite them, so Daishou ejects the venom into a container and coats the knives and bullets he carries. Kuroo is fascinated as Daishou explains and pride flares in the officer, but that is quickly squashed when Kuroo lets out a hideous hyena cackle and says “that ability suits you, you snake”. He’s feeling more mobile and stronger, so he grabs Kuroo by his messy locks and shoves him into a headlock, but he freezes when he smells an oddly familiar scent of cinnamon. Where does he recognize this scent from? Kuroo uses his distraction to escape the hold and Daishou’s thoughts are cut off as the two start to playfully exchange light blows.

Two weeks fly by and Daishou is finally being discharged. He’s excited to get back into the swing of things, but he feels a pang of sadness when he says farewell to Kuroo. He almost musters the courage to exchange numbers with the cat-like man, but chickens out last minute and leaves the hospital with regret lacing his mood. However, he doesn’t have much time to dwell on trivial things like missed chances when Daichi and him are again being summoned by Ukai.

“Multiple high-ranking officers have been found dead. Evidence has shown that they were tortured before being brutally murdered. We believe it’s one villain doing all of this, so we might have a serial killer on our hands.” Daichi and Daishou are veterans in the field, but they can’t help but flinch at the photo evidence Ukai shows them. Mutilated bodies (Daishou assumes they’re bodies, but it’s hard to distinguish even that in some of the photos), blood and guts everywhere…”We don’t have many leads yet so I’ll need you two to work with your teams to make some headway on this case.” Ukai pauses before continuing. “And please be careful...these officers who were targeted had similar ranks and standings as both of you.” A solemn silence fills the room at those words.

Daichi and Daishou frantically get to work gathering as many clues as they can from the evidence. Where are the victims going missing? When do they go missing? They sift through information determining what’s useful or not and finally after countless sleepless nights fueled by too much coffee, they feel like they’re closing in on the killer. Daishou is exhausted as he leaves the police precinct and makes his way home. Satisfied with the progress they’re making, he decides to reward himself with a full night of rest. He enters his apartment and starts to make his way to his bedroom when he literally can’t move. It feels like his feet are locked to the floor and he looks down and sees...his shadow?...encasing his feet. A blow to his head is the last thing he remembers.

Daishou blearily opens his eyes and is greeted with the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling. His head throbs and he tries to move an arm to rub the injured area, when something holds him back. Confused and still groggy, he slowly looks down and panic blazes within him when he sees his naked body laid out on a metal table, his ankles and wrists locked down by metal cuffs. A dark chuckle reverberates throughout the room and Daishou turns his head to see a shadowy figure standing in the corner. “I guess you’re the one behind all the cop murders. Why don’t you come out and show yourself, you coward.” The shadowy figure slowly claps as he makes his way under the single hanging light bulb in the center of the room and all Daishou sees is a mass of shadows in the general shape of a human figure. “Well, well, aren’t you quite the clever one, officer. Too bad that knowledge isn’t going to do you any good right now.” The figure bends to examine an assortment of tools lying next to Daishou’s head and Daishou trembles as he picks up a jagged knife and trails it along the officer’s vulnerable body. “Wh-why are you doing this?” Daishou barely manages to spit out as his heart rate accelerates and cold sweat forms on his temples. “There’s something so intoxicating about seeing powerful men begging me for mercy. You cops think so highly of yourselves, but I’m here to show you where you really belong, groveling underneath me.” With that, the knife is digging in harder and harder and Daishou screams at the pain. His world narrows and all he knows is agony as metal continues to carve its mark in him.

A day passes and Daichi is desperately searching for Daishou. He hopes that Daishou just overslept or decided to play hooky from work, but deep inside he begins to accept that the worst may have happened. He quickly rushes to Ukai’s office and immediately a rescue team is put together to find and retrieve the officer. Not willing to lose one of his best without a fight, Ukai has enlisted the help of the big guns and Daichi stands next to Bird of Prey as they get ready to infiltrate the few locations they’ve pinpointed as possible holding zones. Just as they’re about to depart, Bird of Prey places a hand on Daichi’s shoulder and asks him to wait for a second because additional help is on the way. Daichi’s confused but he trusts the owl-like man (even if he doesn’t understand the need to spike his silver and black hair so flamboyantly) and within minutes a lithe feline-esque figure gracefully lands next to them. Bird of Prey slaps Black Cat on the shoulder and Daichi grins at the leather clad man before they quickly move. First location. Nothing. Second location. Empty. Anxiety is beginning to fester and build as they rush to the final location.

The three men stand in front of the abandoned mansion. Daichi and his team will take the top floor, Bird of Prey will take the main floor, and Black Cat will take the basement. Aligned, they waste no time as they perform their duties. Black Cat stealthily saunters through the desolate halls of the lowest level and as he opens a room, his heart sinks. There is Daishou, but there’s so much blood and he doesn’t see a spot of unmarred skin. He is clambering over to the man on shaky legs and lets out a sob of relief when he sees that Daishou is still breathing. “Hey, you stupid snake,” he purrs gently into Daishou’s ear. “I’m going to get you out of here. I promise. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Daishou’s consciousness has escaped to the deepest recesses of his mind. He just wants everything to stop. He’s so tired. So tired of the torment and the darkness. He just wants to be left alone. He just wants to die so that it’ll finally be over. His thoughts are spiraling darker and darker, but a gentle voice halts his dangerous train of contemplation and coaxes him back to reality. He slowly opens his eyes and finds solace in the cat-eared masked face looking down at him. He wants to say something to the vigilante, but it’s too much effort to move his lips. Black Cat smiles at him. “Cat got your tongue?” That phrase elicits a reaction within Daishou and he’s momentarily befuddled as he tries to think about why that phrase spoken by this specific voice seems so familiar and just as he thinks he’s about to put a finger on it, Black Cat is being thrown against the wall by shadowy tendrils. Fear bubbles inside of Daishou when he sees his tormentor, but worry and concern also begin to well up within him as he sees Black Cat struggling to keep up with the relentless attacks. The fight continues and it’s not looking good for the vigilante until he extends fearsome claws from his fingers and pounces at the light bulb illuminating the room. Then there is only pitch black and Daishou struggles to listen to what is happening. He hears the sound of flesh hitting flesh and an agonized scream. There’s a moment of silence and then footsteps are gingerly making their way towards him. He tenses when hands make contact with his wounded body, but as soon as he inhales the comforting scent of cinnamon, he smiles and lets himself be carefully carried away.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu writing #haikyuu drabbles #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo #daishou #daishou suguru #kuroo x daishou #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios

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kayteewritessteve · 5 years

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Love and War - 14/16

Description: In a harsh medieval world, you set out on a perilous quest that will lead you onto a forbidden land. A land ruled and controlled by a ruthless Warlord King, one who does not look favourably upon trespassers of any kind, and punishes all with an iron fist. You may not know exactly where this quest will end, but what you do know is you will forever be altered by it. And that knowledge alone is what truly terrifies you the most.

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 5,800 ish.

Pairing: Medieval!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG for now. May become 18+ later.

Warnings: Violence. Curse words. Mentions of fears and potentially brutal medieval tactics. Most likely more to come down the road. Please don’t let these warnings scare you too much, give the story a try before you judge it.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader either, so I do proudly own all these errors and this story, so there’s that.

You awaken to the feeling of being jostled, before you’re laid down on a plush, yet cold surface. It feels almost like a bed, but one that has been left unused in a cold room. You shiver from the chill slowly seeping into your body, as you slowly open your eyes to peer around. To establish where exactly you are.

Last you remember, you were in your room, wrapped up in the arms of the man you loved. The man you’d just married. The man you’d get to spend your eternity with.

But now, now you are alone. Now you are laying on some cold bed, with no muscular, warm arms anywhere in sight. Which means no Ari anywhere nearby, at least as far as you can tell. He must still be speaking with Athos, and you can only imagine how that conversation is going—though conversation is probably not the proper word to use here, it would probably be more accurate to say argument. As you knew full well that it would become very heated between them the moment Ari told his father the truth. Told him you were now wed, and that the deal with Hepha would be impossible now.

You smile at the thought, both of foiling Hepha’s ridiculous plans, but also at now being able to call Ari yours. Truly and entirely yours. He belonged to you, as you belonged to him. And nothing, or no one, could stand in the way of your undying love now. It would always be just the two of you, for forever and a day.

Your eyes finally fully open, but all you see is darkness. You wait for them to adjust to the low light of your room, but they never do. And it’s after a few moments that you realize something is over your face, some soft material is blocking your sight. You go to reach up to pull, what you assume is blankets, from your face, but your arms don’t move. They don’t respond to your commands, and that—well, that just isn’t right.

You begin to panic as you clue in that you have no control or power over your own body, your own form, and that you are essentially trapped within your skin. That realization only stand to cause you more anxiety, more panic. Why can’t you move?! Where is Ari? Where are you?!

“Ah, I see she has finally awaken,” you hear a disturbing voice comment, and a chill runs down your spine at the voice. One you knew all too well.

Before you can even think about why he is here, the fabric is pulled from your head and you blink a few times to clear your panicky haze. It doesn’t take but a moment to notice you aren’t in your room anymore.

No, from the looks of it, you aren’t even in a structure of any kind. Your eyes dart around as well as they are able, what with your current paralytic state and inability to even so much as move your head. The jagged rock surfaces, looking as if they were chiseled away painstakingly, bit by bit, and entirely by hand, is all you see. You are clearly underground, or maybe in a cave of some sort.

But then your wandering eyes land on 3 shadowy forms off to the side. 2 you recognize instantly, but the 3rd, a feminine form, is new to you. You go to speak, but no words come out, your lips not even moving at all.

“Don’t try to speak,” Hepha says as he moves from the darkness and into the light. Coming towards you and you go to shrink away from him, but once again, your body remains immobile and unresponsive. As he nears you, you can’t miss the smug grin on his face, as if he is proud of himself somehow. As if he is pleased with all of this. “No words will come out, you are under a spell that has paralyzed you.”

You want to snark back at him, make some sassy comment about having already clued in to that. But once again you can’t utter a word, so you settle for a loud sigh and an eye roll, only having control over your breathing and eyes. He’ll know your true disdain for him, if it takes every ounce of strength and determination that you have within you. He’ll know you loathe him in this moment, as you wouldn’t have it any other way.

He chuckles, shaking his head, “I see you still have your spirits about you, even in your current state.”

You just glare up at him, channelling all your hatred for this, this good-for-nothing bastard, into your eyes. Hoping he’d get the message.

A movement behind Hepha catches your eye and you snap them in that direction. Seeing a strange woman and Charandas; Hepha’s loyal dog and servant, now both moving towards you. The woman’s face is neutral, calm even, and something in her eyes tells you that everything will be okay. That you are safe here and she will protect you. But you don’t understand how that is even possible, or why she is even here.

You are curious how Hepha managed to bring this woman here, how he talked her into being a part of all of this. Something about her tells you she isn’t the type to partake in kidnap or imprisonment. So he must be holding something over her, he must be threatening something she loves. And if that is true, it wouldn’t surprise you in the slightest. Hepha was a manipulative snake, through and through.

The strange woman begins to pull out weird objects from her satchel, and you study her for a moment, before your eyes snap back to Hepha. A question settling within your curious glassy orbs.

And luckily for you, the buffoon seems to recognize that, and gives you a wretched grin, “I gather you are curious as to why you’re here?” He raises a brow then glances at the woman, “and who she is, perhaps?” You go to nod, but once again nothing happens. So you just stare pointedly at him, waiting for him to go on.

He chuckles. “I’ll start with the simple question,” he gestures to the woman, “this is Medea, and she is here to do a few different things. One of those was to paralyze you, and then to put you into a deep sleep. As I can’t have you escaping on me this time, now can I?”

You just glare up at him. Millions of questions and concerns running through your head, but you can’t seem to focus on any of them. The only thing you can feel in this moment is sheer anger and unwavering fear. Both of which are clouding your mind.

“As for why you are here, there are also a few different reasons for that as well, but the main ones being that you lied to me. You’ve made a fool of me, Y/N, and I can not allow that to stand. Aasira does not love me, she does not love anyone. You tricked me into believing she did, and for that you will pay.”

His hands move to clasp behind his back, as he begins to slowly pace. You can only intermittently see him, as his slow wandering brings him back to your line of sight, before he disappears again. Only to reappear a moment later. This goes on for a moment before he speaks again, his voice dripping with sheer anger and venom, “and because I overheard Alarick,” he spits the name out like spoilt milk on his tongue, “telling Athos about your little union. About how you both went behind everyone’s backs to secretly wed.” He abruptly stops pacing and leans towards you menacingly, “you think some stupid piece of parchment will stop me from obtaining what I desire most? The one thing I have yearned for above all else?”

He laughs loudly, standing back up as his head tips back, “if you truly do believe that, then you are more of a fool than I thought.” He shakes his head then his eyes meet yours, “I will stop at nothing to destroy the love between Alarick and you. He doesn’t deserve you, he doesn’t deserve to be happy. I have, and will always, love you more than he ever could. He will never care for you as I do.”

You narrow your eyes at him, this man truly is an utter buffoon. Taking someone against their will isn’t ‘love’, stealing them away in the night and bringing them to a desolate place such as this, is not ‘caring’ for someone. It’s kidnap, it’s deceit. He doesn't love you, he is a lunatic if he truly believes this is love. That this is how you show your feelings for another.

Why can’t he see this is madness?! That you don’t love him and you never will! That you love Alarick, and only Alarick, and that will never change. No matter how ridiculous his ploys become. Ari is your one true love, he is your everything, for eternity.

He is pacing again, his voice still oozing malice and spite. “I was so angered by your actions, by your betrayal, that I came up with this little plan. One that would effectively kill two birds with one stone, so to speak,” he abruptly stops pacing, his hands unclasping from behind his back to gesture around the dimly lit space, “I will imprison you within this cave, and keep you and Alarick from each other. He will live out his days searching for his true love,” he spits venomously, “unable to rest, unable to so much as breathe without you. He will crumble, he will wither away, he will become a shell of the man he once was. And that will be my revenge on him. He will spend his entire life endless wandering, hopelessly hunting for you. But he will never find you, and will instead be left entirely alone and miserable. Which, in my eyes, is all he deserves.”

He chuckles, a zestful sound to match the joyous smile now upon his lips, as if that image of Alarick brings him great comfort. Allows him sheer happiness in this moment.

He looks down at you once again, his calloused hand coming up to caress your cheek. The feeling of his disgusting hand upon you, makes you sick. Makes you want to cringe away from him, puke and smack him, all at the same time. You are utterly revolted by the contact, the only man who should ever lay a hand on you, is Alarick. And if he knew of this, of this bastards hands upon your skin, he’d be on a warpath, a complete rampage. He’d be truly out for blood.

“Now that just leaves the final reason as to why I’ve chosen to imprison you here, my love.” Those two words leaving his chapped lips only stand to disgust you further. “I refuse to share you with another, I refuse to lose you to that, that beast. I will hide you here, in this place, where I may visit you whenever I so please. Where you will belong to only me. My most prized possession for which only my eyes may gaze upon. You will be only mine, forever.”

He glances over his shoulder, ushering the strange woman forward with a movement of his fingers. She quickly scurries to the other side of you, picking up your left hand and clasping it tightly within her own. Though not tight enough to hurt, just enough to have a firm grip on it. Then she closes her eyes and begins to chant, the words foreign to you, sounding as if she is speaking in tongues.

After a few moments of this, your heart pounding hard against your rib cage, like a galloping horses hooves against the ground, your eyelids become heavy. You try to fight to keep them open, but the immense weight now upon them slowly begins to win out. You start to lose the battle as they flutter for a moment, before all that is left is darkness. Is a black void for which you are now trapped.

The final thing you feel is complete and utter hopelessness, and the crippling fear that Alarick won’t find you, that he will not be victorious in rescuing you this time. You prey he can find peace with this, that he can move on from the loss of you. That should he never track you down, should he never set eyes upon your skin ever again, that he can come to terms with that. That he can learn to live without you.

Those thoughts break your heart, but true love is hoping with all hope that the one you adore is alive, is happy with their life, and content in its outcomes. Even if the cost of that is your own wellbeing, even if the price is your own heart, happiness, and future. You want nothing more than for them to be settled, to be happy, to be truly okay.

Ari’s face, the last image you see as the darkness finally consumes you, swallowing you whole.

“My Lady,” you hear a frantic whispered voice attempting to pull you from the dark. “You must open your eyes, My Lady.”

You groan, your eyes slowly fluttering open, feeling as though they are currently being held down by some invisible force. They finally open fully and take a second to adjust to the low light, before they settle on an unfamiliar face leaning over yours.

“My Lady,” she whispers hastily, “I haven’t much time, but I need to tell you something of grave importance. And you must remember these next words entirely,” she glances around the space quickly before her eyes lock with yours. “I have made a talisman from your ring,” she holds up a beautiful ring in front of you. One you’ve never seen before, but yet she claims is yours. “It is the key to all of this, My Lady. It will unlock everything. When you finally rise, you must put it on, it will give you all that has been stolen from you. It will return all that is lost.”

You furrow your brows at her cryptic words, your eyes moving from the ring in her hands, to glance around the dark unfamiliar space. Where the Gods are you?! And who is this strange woman?!

She chuckles quietly, “I am Medea, My Lady.”

Your eyes snap back to her, seeing a sweet yet sad smile upon her lips. Did she just—How does she know what you’re thinking?!

“I can hear your thoughts,” she whispers. “You will escape this place one day, but until then, I promise you will be safe here. This is all part of the prophecy, Fate has chosen this path for you. It was set in stone long before my time, and will play out exactly as it should, long after I am gone. You will see, all will be made right in the end. But you must remember this ring, My Lady, you must replace it to it’s rightful spot upon your finger. Heed my words, this ring is the key to it all.”

Why are you doing this?! Why am I here?!

“Because the Fates have decided upon it, because this is as it should be. All will come into the light one day, all will be made known to you in due time.” She smiles, but you can tell it’s forced, “even if Hepha had not sought me out and threatened my life, or the lives of my children, I would have been here. As this is my destiny, my part in Fates plan, and I’ve known it all along. I always knew he would come, and that his arrival would be my undoing.” She sighs, “though even with that said, can you promise me one thing. Just to ease a dying woman’s mind.”

You furrow your brows again, and attempt to slowly nod but nothing happens. Your head doesn’t move, not even slightly. Promise you what, exactly?

“I knew this would all come to pass many moons ago, that this is how my life would end. But a mother's love is unwavering, it is unbreakable, and even with the knowledge of all that is to pass, I still need to hear the words. To know without any shadow of a doubt that they will be okay.”

What do you mean? Who will be? Your children?

“Yes, my children,” she sighs, tears now forming in her eyes. “Promise me you will look out for them. Promise me you will love them.”

You stare at her for a moment, completely and totally lost. Where will you be? Why do you need me to promise this to you?

“I will be long gone from this place.” She glances up at the rocky roof wistfully, as if to look to the sky, “somewhere near yet far.” Her eyes drop back down to meet yours, “and I just need to know they will be okay, that someone will watch out for them, will truly love them. And who more fitting than you, My Lady,” she gestures to you.

Who are your children? Where will I find them? How will I find them?

“You won’t find them, they will find you, when the time is right,” she grasps your hand tightly. “Please, promise me they will be safe with you?”

I don’t know if I can promise that. I don’t even know who I am, or where I am. How can I make a promise to you that I can’t possibly keep. How can I vow to keep them safe, when I have no idea what the future will hold for me.

“I know what it will hold,” she nods and squeezes your hand gently. “They will rescue you one day, but you must promise to watch out for them once they do.”

Okay, I promise I will do everything in my power to keep them safe. To love them. And to watch out for them.

She is about to speak, when the sound of rocks crumbling halts her. Her whole body becomes rigid and unmoving for a moment, before she leans down and whispers, “sleep now, My Lady. And thank you for allowing this old woman one final moment of peace before her end. But please remember, the ring is the key to all of this. You must find it and put it on once you wake, it will be hidden somewhere within this cave. Find it. Return it to it’s rightful place. And follow your Fate chosen destiny.”

Okay, I will, Medea. I promise.

She smiles one last time at you, before your world begins to slip into darkness. Your eyes feeling heavy, and the only thought running through your mind is your promise, and the image of the ring you will need to find once you awaken.

And then, all is just never-ending blackness. A void of nothingness that’s clouded in utter silence.

“Y/N!”

“Oh Gods, Y/N please wake up!”

“What’s wrong with her? Why isn’t she responding?”

“How should I know?!”

Your eyes snap open, as your body lunges up from your laying down position. You hear gasps around you as your eyes adjust to the low lighting. You frantically search the space, as the hazy forms around you begin to morph into people. Not just people but your friends, your family.

As they come fully into focus, you see the worried and startled expressions now written all over their faces.

“The ring is the key to all of this,” you whisper, going to stand but your limbs are wobbly and tingly.

Sam quickly grabs hold of you, “slowly, Y/N. Nice and slow.” He helps you stand, holding you up for a moment while you regain your balance and control.

After a few moments you feel okay, and give him a nod, “thank you, Sam, I believe I can stand on my own now.”

He looks hesitant, but reluctantly releases you. His hands staying close just in case you start to plummet to the floor again.

“Are you okay?” Wanda asks as she moves in front of you and her eyes assess your whole form, as if to see if you’re hurt. “How do you feel?”

You think it over for a moment, then respond truthfully, “I feel fine. A little hazy, but normal.”

“Oh thank the Gods,” Pietro sighs deeply, as he engulfs you in a hug, causing you to chuckle softly. He pulls back after a moment, “you had us really worried there for a moment, Y/N.”

You glance around at the others, “what happened?”

“You just passed out. We have no idea why,” Wanda tells you.

“You touched the glass coffin and just dropped,” Sam adds, worry still prominent in his voice.

You nod, your eyes now scanning the room, “I remember being brought here.” You look to Wanda and Pietro, “I made a promise to someone. One I fully intend to keep, now that I can actually remember it.”

They both nod slowly, glancing at each other before turning back to you. And you can’t miss the confused looks on both their faces now.

You take a few shaky steps, Sam directly behind you, his hands out as if to catch you should you fall. Your eyes continue to search the dark space, glancing to Natasha as you reach a hand out to her, “may I borrow that?”

She furrows her brows as she looks down to the torch in her hand, then passes it to you. “Thanks,” you smile and begin to move around the space. Checking the small dark crevasses thoroughly as you do.

“What exactly are you looking for?” Natasha asks as the four of them follow closely behind you.

You don’t turn to them, keeping your eyes focus on searching. “The ring.”

“The ring?” Wanda asks slowly, sounding utterly confused.

“Yes, it is the key to all of this,” you nod.

“Should we be searching for this ring as well?” Sam asks.

“If you could,” you finally glance back, smiling at him. “It is vital that we find it. It will unlock everything.” Then your eyes return to scouring the dark areas, “you can’t miss it, it will have a large moonstone in it.”

He furrows his brows, but nods. Him and Natasha then move to the other side of the space, and begin searching. Thankfully they both have exceptional night vision, meaning you can keep the torch for your own search efforts. Wanda and Pietro then join you, searching the areas along with you. As the light hits new spots, the three of you thoroughly check them for anything that stands out, that resembles a ring.

A few moments later, a small twinkle catches your eye. You quickly make your way towards it, lowering yourself down and holding the light up to the area. The light hits something and causes it to glimmer and shine. You reach your hand into a small crevice, your fingers grazing something small and cold. Something not made from this place, a foreign material. One that feels very much like metal.

You stretch your fingers as far as you can, finally grasping the small object and pulling it out from it’s hiding place. The others are surrounding you now, having noticed you crouching down to retrieve something.

You hold it in your hand, staring down at it for a moment. It looks exactly as it had in your memory, only now more weathered and tarnished. The others stand around you, looking at the ring now sitting atop your open palm.

You hand Natasha the torch before you move to place the ring on your finger, but a gentle hand grasps yours and prevents you from continuing the action. You look up to see Wanda staring back at you. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Y/N?”

“What if this is all just some elaborate trick?” Sam asks.

“Or what if this causes you to fall into another deep sleep?” Pietro adds.

You turn to Natasha, who hasn’t spoken a word yet. She is looking intently at the ring, as if she recognizes it but yet doesn’t. Her eyes flick up to yours and you can see the confusion in them. The conflict. “Part of me wants to agree with the other. To think logically here,” she starts, her eyes dropping back to the ring in your hand. “But something else tells me that ring means so much more than any of us can even fathom. That it stands for so much more.” She shakes her head, as if trying to joggle a memory loose, “that it was made in the name of love, and that fact alone will never allow it to harm you, to deceive you, or to steer you wrong.” She locks eyes with you again, “I think you should put it on.”

“What?” Sam gasps, eyes wide as he spins to look at Natasha. “You’re just going to go along with this? You’ve never even seen this ring before in your life, how do you know it won’t harm her?!”

She shrugs, “I don’t, but my instincts tell me it won’t, and I always trust my gut.” She looks at the ring again, “But I do think I have seen it before, I just can’t remember it.” She sighs, shaking her head again, “it sounds ridiculous, I know. But I’m positive I’ve laid eyes on this ring before. It’s like I recognize it, yet I don’t.”

Her eyes meet yours and you smile, nodding that you understand what she means then you look between Wanda and Pietro. “She was right, you did end up finding me. You did end up rescuing me. And even though I had forgotten her words, I somehow managed to keep my promise to her.”

They both furrows their brows. “Who?” They ask in unison.

“Medea. Your mother,” you whisper, glancing up at the rocky roof just as she had. As if you could see her up there, looking down on you all and watching. “I made her a promise that I intend to keep.”

Wanda gasps, her hand releasing yours as it moves to cover her mouth. “How did you,” she begins to murmur but trails off as your eyes drop back down to meet hers.

“You knew her?” Pietro asks softly. “How is that even possible?”

You flick your eyes to his and give him a small, unsure smile, “I don’t know how it’s possible. But she was here,” you glance around, “in this cave. She came to me, and told me of the ring. She made me promise to watch out for you both, to love you both.” You nod once, “and that is why I need to do this,” you say determinedly as you quickly push the ring onto your finger, before anyone else can even attempt to stop you again.

And instantly your head pounds, you gasp as you clench your eyes shut and your hands move to your temples. The immense pain ripping through you is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. The throbbing causes you to cry out in agony as your legs buckle and you collapse to the floor. Landing heavily on your knees as you lean forward, your fingers digging into your skin in any attempt to rid your skull of the intense and immeasurable pain coursing through it. The feeling of millions of tiny knives slicing and cutting away at your brain, at your mind.

Memories begin to return to you at a rapid pace. Images, feelings, emotions and sounds all coming back to you in chunks and pieces. All slowly forming full stories, entire recounts of past moments in your life. It feels as if you are the sand, and your memories are the oceans unrelenting waves continuously crashing down upon you.

You grit your teeth, your lids scrunching together tighter as you attempt to endure this agony for as long as you can. You pray you can take this all, you hope you can survive this torture. That you can just hold on long enough for it to all be over. For it to be finished.

After what feels like an eternity, the pain finally subsides. It finally ends. And you take a few deep shaky breaths, your hands drop from your head and land on the cold ground, as you lean forward and allow yourself a moment of reprieve. A few seconds to just breath.

You finally open your eyes, pushing yourself back up to rest in your folded legs. The two Lycan’s both look even more concerned than they had before, they have this strange helpless look in their eyes and you instantly realize Wanda and Pietro are seating on the ground as well. Both on their folded knees just like you. Both have the same dazed, yet aware look on their faces that you are sure resembles your own features in this moment.

A silence falls over the cave as you just glance between the 2 siblings, taking them in, in an entirely new light now. As they both do the same, just staring right back at you.

Sam is the first to speak up, “okay, what the hell was that!?”

You chuckle as you look up at him, seeing his furrowed brows as he also glances between the three of you now seated on the floor. Before you can say a word, Wanda pipes up, “Do you remember everything too?”

You smile at her, nodding, “I do. I remember everything and more now.”

You go to try to stand, Wanda and Pietro noticing and quickly jumping up to help you. “Here, My Lady. Let us help you,” Pietro says politely as he gently grasps one of your arms, Wanda taking the other as they softly pull you up to stand.

“Just because we all have our memories back, doesn’t change anything,” you sweetly scold him. “I am, and always will be just Y/N to you both. Got it?”

They both nod, softly saying, “yes,” in unison.

“Good. So none of this ‘My Lady’ crap. I didn’t like it before I got my memories back, and I still don’t like it now,” you grin at them.

“Alright,” Sam starts, drawing all the attention back to him, “can somebody please explain what the hell is going on? What did you all just remember?!”

The fiery redhead across from you sighs loudly at Sam’s interruption. “You’re always so damned impatient,” she says as she rolls her eyes, and an involuntary smile breaks out upon your lips at the action. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from her, giving her a full assessing once over. It had been too long.

He glares at her, playfully, “oh, and you aren’t even the least bit curious as to what we just witnessed?”

She crosses her arms and glares right back at him, though hers isn’t playful. You know that for a fact. “Of course I am, but I also know we will find out eventually. When the time is right. As I actually have this thing called patience.”

He scoffs, shaking his head then turns to you again with curious, questioning eyes.

You chuckle at him, “you’ll know soon enough, Sam. But right now, we all have to get back to the castle. There is something I urgently need to attend to. I promise I’ll explain everything once that is finished, but this can’t wait any longer.” You turn on your heel and begin to make your way out of the cave, hearing 4 sets of footsteps following behind you as you do.

You exit the hidden passageway and step back out into the dazzling light of the setting sun. The sky a beautiful array of blues, purples and pinks.

“Wait,” you feel a hand grip your upper arm, turning to see the feisty redhead now behind you, her eyes scanning the forest's edge.

“What is it?” You ask, turning to look in the same direction she is, and a gasp leaves your lips when you see what she does.

Men. So many men. All now emerging from the dense tree line, and coming to stand along it’s edge, with weapons in hand.

“Thank you for returning her to me,” a booming voice shouts and your eyes snap over to see Hepha, standing in the middle of the vast line of warriors and mercenaries. “If you leave her here and go, none of you will be harmed. You are severely outnumbered, so I’d recommend you don’t do anything foolhardy.”

Two deep, menacing growls rip from behind you as you are pulled back and pushed behind them both. Wanda and Pietro also tucked protectively behind the two larger bodies, along with you.

“Like hell we will leave her behind,” the redhead yells back, then side eyes Sam as she quickly whispers, “Sam, get them back to the castle. Now!”

“What, and leave all the fun to you?” He scoffs.

“Don’t argue with me right now, Samuel. I’ll hold them off for a bit, while you all get away, and then I will be right behind you,” she snaps back at him.

“You can’t be serious,” he gapes at her. “You can’t take all of them on by yourself!”

“I can,” she affirms. “Now get them out of here! I won’t be far behind you.”

He is about to argue with her, but you desperately need to get back to the castle. You can’t let Hepha get anywhere near you, nor prevent you from finishing all of this once and for all. You need to reach the King, you need to tell him the whole truth. You now know exactly where Alarick is hiding, where he is currently waiting for you, and now you just need to figure out how to reach him.

You grab Sam’s arm and forcefully turn him to face you. “Sam! We have to go. She will be fine, I promise you that. She is more than able to hold her own, trust me, I know exactly what she is capable of. Now you need to shift, you have to get us back to the castle. There is no time to argue.”

He stares at you for a second then nods, “okay, fine. But once I shift I won’t be able to talk to you, so I’ll lower down and then you all have to climb on and hold on tight to my fur. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt me. And whatever you do, don’t let go.”

“Shift?” Wanda asks quietly, to no one in particular. And you instantly realize that the siblings have no idea about the fact that the whole kingdom of Winterbourne consists entirely of Lycan’s. This is going to be a little intense for them both, but you don’t have time to explain everything in detail to them right now. They will just have to trust you.

You nod quickly at Sam, “okay, got it. You’ll need to send word to,” you hesitate for a second, “Steve that we are coming. Now shift!”

He nods then leaps into the air, handing gracefully on all fours, the shiny fur of his beautiful chocolate brown wolf glistening in the setting sunlight. You’ve never seen a more enchanting creature in your life—well, aside from the King’s golden wolf.

Wanda gasps loudly at the sight and you turn quickly to look at them. “I don’t have the time to explain any of this right now. But Sam won’t hurt either of you, and we will need to ride him back to the castle. I just need you both to trust me on this, I’ll explain more when this is all over.”

They both tear their eyes away from Sam’s giant wolf and look to you, taking a deep breath before they both nod shakily. You nod back then turn to focus on Sam, just as he lowers himself down. “Okay, hop on,” you instruct them, “and grab his fur tightly, it won’t hurt him.”

They both nod again and then the three of you quickly climb onto his back, adjusting and grabbing firm holds on his fur. You glance back at Wanda and Pietro, “ready?” They both nod one last time and then you quickly say, “alright, go Sam! We are good up here!”

And just like that, he takes off like a bat out of hell. The trees and shrubs zipping past you at an alarming rate, you didn’t realize until this exact moment just how fast Lycan’s could actually move. Sam expertly maneuvers between trees and bushes, over rocks and fallen trees, every step is calculated and precise. As if he can predict every upcoming obstacle and the exact movement it will take to get around it. Like he is watching it all in slow motion. It’s truly awe inspiring to witness first hand, and if you weren’t so preoccupied with reaching the safety of the castle, you may have put more interest into just watching how he moves so gracefully in his wolf form.

But right now, all you can think about is getting away from Hepha, reaching the King, and then finally locating and reuniting with your one true love, your husband, your world, your Ari.

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

@caps-lockdown @tfandtws @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @steeeeverogers @zombiepotterfour @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @wordlesscaptain @captain-hammer-of-asgard @starstucknature @viarogers @pixieferry @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle @capsicledoll @givemehopenfandoms @pretendingandpreposterous @frozen-phoenix17 @emotionallysalty @atomicsludgedonutbiscuit @saturngirlz @ivannagotthebeat @bohemian-barbie @marvelous-capsicle @ivoryhazlewood @steverogersxreader @cjhorseback @secondstar2disney @jessiedaeum @betsynodak @sister-of-stars @wiserebelpartypie @patzammit

#au fanfiction #fanfiction #long post #long read #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #medieval!steve rogers x reader #medieval!steve rogers #medieval au #fantasy!steve rogers x reader #fantasy!steve rogers #fantasy au #steve rogers au #love and war #chapter 14

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bakusoftie · 5 years

Note

I was just listening to creepypasta and got an idea. Could you do hcs for Bakugo and Kirishima’s reactions to seeing a scary fucking demon/ghost or whatever while they’re hanging out with their crush in some creepy place? Or really, just any situation where they’re hanging with their crush and some scary paranormal shit starts happening. I’m in a big mood for some horror. This would make my LIFE thank you 🙌🏻

I’m such a huge horror fan so this made me uwu so hard (also i hope you don’t mind but I made separate scenarios for them but if you wanted poly I could do that 🥺👉👈)

Warnings: Gory Descriptions!!! + Ouija Boards + Kaminari being a dumbass

Kiricutie + Bakubabe experiencing some scary shit with their s/o

🦈 kiricutie 🦈

It was all Denki’s fault

That living enbodiment of a phone charger was the one who dared the entirety of the bakusquad to go to this “haunted” house

Bakugou, of course, said he had better things to do but,,,

Kirishima (being the manliest man he is) just had to be there to protect his s/o from all the bad spirits and creatures of the night

But the thing is- Kirishima is fucking terrified.

You, on the other hand, are so excited maybe a bit nervous and he wants to be one to protect you and be your man

Kaminari, Mina and Sero get too far ahead of themselves and rush off into different parts of the attraction so it's just you and the sharp-toothed cutie,,,all alone,,,in a dark, supposedly haunted house. Oof.

At first,It isn’t as bad as Kirishima thought. Plus, he gets to spend time with you and whenever you’d hear a scream you would unconsciously brush your hand against his and suddenly he doesn’t even realize that he was anxious in the first place. That is until you get to this bloody door that explicitly says ‘Do Not Enter’.

“Oh well, I guess we’ll just have to move on then, s/o”

Being the dumbass you are,,,You grabbed Kirishima’s hand and busted through the door (all that you could think of was ‘I need to see some ghost cheeks 👻’)

The room was dark and had a overwhelming stench to it. So, you ran your hand over the wall to find a light switch

all the while, kiri is begging that you two meet up with everyone else but 👏them👏ghost👏 cheeks👏

when you did find the strangely wet lightswitch, you turned it on to discover the fresh blood dripping down your hands and wondering why kirishima was so silent, you turned around.

He was in some state of shock, his once bright and tanned skin is now a sickly pale. He moves in front of you when you tried to follow his eyesight, desperately trying to protect you from the horrendous sight but you managed to take a look from over his shoulder

The entire room had dark crimson sludge splattered on the walls and the ground they currently stood on.

But that wasn’t even the worst of it.

It was the various amounts of flesh and guts scattered over a steel, rusted autopsy table where a body laid still as a rock. The body was mutilated and had several markings on it

The two of you weren't sure if it was real or just very detailed decorations but you both shared a look that told each other that they needed to leave and get help.

You moved quickly through the house to find your friends, still joining hands with Kirishima.

When you found Kaminari, Mina and Sero roasting a Pennywise cosplayer, you and Eijirou let out a breath of relief and pleaded them to come with you so you could show them the fucking mess y'all witnessed but when you got to the cursed hallway that you swore had a row of doors along it-

The door was fucking gone?!?

Everyone except you and Eijirou, who were both shocked and sick to their stomachs, was laughing and playing it off as a joke but

Whatever the fuck you both experienced together sure as hell bonded you for life.

💥bakubaby💥

Bakugou doesn't scare easy. This bitch used to watch horror movies when he was 3 years old and had hardcore death metal as his lullaby.

He a tough boi

But when it comes to you, he's so fucking soft and full of warmth 🥰

He fucking loves you even tho you can be kinda stupid sometimes all the time

Like right now, You and Bakubae were at a party that Hagakure was throwing and normally Bakugou would be like ‘fuck no I rather stick a cactus up my ass than hang out with a bunch of extras’ but when you looked so sad that he didn’t want to come with you and said ‘oh,,,that’s fine I guess,,,I’ll just ask Todoroki to come with me’

YOU ALREADY KNOW THIS BITCH DID NOT HESITATE TO LET YOU KNOW YOUR ASS IS HIS

and vice versa (“that bakubooty is MINE NOW,THOTS” - S/O declares from the roof of U.A)

The party was lame and the only thing interesting so far was seeing Iida get drunk and dance to Old Time Road.

Until you ask Momo to whip out an Ouija board from her titties.

Now, Bakugou doesn't really believe in ghosts or shit like that but for some reason, he just has this weird feeling about all of this

But he doesn't want to be seen as a weakling because of a stupid board with the alphabet on it.

You call over Deku and Icy-hot to join you in conjuring some motherfucking ghOSTs

You deadass had to pick all the people he absolutely hates, didn’t you?

Anyway, Bakugou couldn’t let these weak extras show him up so he grabs the planchette and asks you how the fuck this shitty toy works.

when you put your hand on his, he uwus so hard omg

but then dEKU and pRinCe zUkO had to ruin everything by putting their hands on the piece of wood too.

bruh shouto better watch tf out because if he sees y’alls pinkies brush against each other one more fucking time he’s going to go FERAL

The shitty wood chip started to pull their hands toward the ‘HELLO’ side of the board and bakugou went *surprised pikachu face*

HE WASNT SCARED HES JUST TAKEN ABACK FUCKING STUPID DEKU I BET HIS WEAK ASS MOVED IT

“Now we’re supposed to ask it questions.”

”U-um are you here to hurt us?”

”SHUT IT ICYHOT AND STUPID DEKU!,,,I got shit to ask this little dead bitch!!”

Bakudumbass, you should never insult a spirit wtf.

After his rude remark, the candles that you had lit around the four of you suddenly went out. I mean it wasn’t a big deal because shouto could easily light them back up but it definitely shook the lot of you to your core.

When the candles were relit, you couldn’t but help to notice that Izuku was missing from the circle

Oh shit

Bakugou thinks that this is all some stupid fucking scheme to get back at him and he swears when he finds Deku, he will break his bones worse than one for all ever could.

But he shuts that thought down the moment that he senses the burning feeling of eyes staring right into his soul. He looks behind him at the dark shadowy figure that seems to be using the freckled, green-haired hero as it's vessel.

Izuku’s once emerald-green eyes are now a shade of glowing crimson and his once warm, friendly smile now a gruesomely wide smirk as his body now dangles from the air.

Ŷ̵̝̌̂o̴̳͖̼̐͜͝u̷̧̠͙̫̭͖͍͋̍͠ ̵͉̮̲̌̓ň̶͔͊̎͘͝͝ĕ̸̬̜͔̑e̶̤̞̹̜̮̗͂̈́͂͜d̷̡̨̙͎̩̭̭̱̜̟̎̒ ̴̧̬̯̠̼͈̹̽̋͒t̵͓̖͙͍̯̜̣̲̅̀o̸̪͈͓̤͍̖̘͔͎͓͋̂̑ ̴̢̢͙̙͎̠̘̳̳̄̈̉̋ͅl̶̗̭̮͑̃̃͌é̷̜͓̫͚́̐͗̅̃̑á̶̜̲̪̟͙͕͍̹̀̓͋͆͐̉̔ř̴͓͈̥̜̜͆̌̑̓̊͝͠ṋ̷̜͍̲̈͘ ̸̞̘̱̥̞̬̣̫̾h̵͎̻͔̼̻̜̓́͋͘͘o̵̳̭̬͙̠̹̪͇̮͊̈̏̊̕͜w̷̭̟͙̱͔͕̃͋̈́̇̕̚͘͘ ̵̦͎̳͋̀͝͝t̵̢̨̗͖͖͇̺͔͖̾̄͌͗̓̾̀ö̴̲́̀ ̸͇͔̱̟̹̫͓̙̀̏̐̌̆͛̋͑͊ṯ̴̡̭͕̮̯̭̘̌̇̽̉͂̾̓̚͜r̷̪͙͎̱̩͚̻͛̾̓̉̉̓̐̿̀͘ȩ̴̧̣͈͚̗͓̯͚͂̀̈̽̚a̷̛̛̠͙̬͖̾͂t̶̡́̕ ̴̨̡̠̰̮͕͍̘̩͎͌ò̸͖̈̏͜t̶͎̼̑͒̿̔̓̈̕͝͠h̷̨͎̲͔̭̖̗̼̘̅̂͂͗͐̍è̷̝̥̠̬̮͈̮̟̔r̸͍͔̳͕̼͛s̷̨̫̼̙̠͉͓̰̽̊̊̔̀͊̃ ̷̛̰̞̳̖̻͕͕̘̝̹̀̎̕k̷͍̳̥̊̋̂̎͒͑̉̽̈́͌ͅḯ̴̩̹̥̤͉̭̘ņ̸̟͎͕̜̞̥̩̬̝͑̋̊̈́̑̏̀̆͐͘ď̸̜̬͇̙̫͉̬̔̏̀̓͊͋l̸̺̲̤̦̼̓̐̀͒̆ẏ̸̖̟͕̣͔̦̳͜,̶̥͇̝͙͔͎̬͌͐̌” ̵̡̻̺̟̻͓͊B̶͖͇̣̲̙͛̊̆̃͑̈́̾̃̕a̶̧͂̍̐̌ķ̶̨̬͇͙̦͓̝̰̩͗͐̿̈͊̏̀̏̕u̴̢̨͕͍͆̆́̏̓͒̉̂̇͝ģ̷̗̱̟̼͉̱̣̐̌̉̒̓́͆͑͒͠ô̵̡͚̻̬̓͒̀͋̔u̵̡̗̻̝̙̓̿͒͆͐̕͝ͅ ̷͖͖̥̭̳͈̑͐̎̐͒K̴̡̡̯͖̹͍̺̟͉̰̆a̴̡̠̘̫̰̖͚͈̲͘t̷͎͈͉͓̩̋̽̿͌ş̷̙͔͎̰̪̜̫̾̌͜͝u̷͉̝̠͚̣͖̿̈́̀͂k̸̜͎̍͠i̴̬̯͇̻̼̹̦̱̋́”

(”you need to learn how to treat others kindly, bakugou katsuki”)

Bakugou is ready for this weird ass shadow man to attack him, he’s got his palms already sparking for the opportunity to blow his ass away back to whatever hell it came from

That doesn’t exactly go as planned

The monster doesn’t come at him but instead, he uses his black matter tendrils to pin you and shouto to the floor as the vine-like shadows slither around your body and constricts your lungs from breathing properly.

It isn’t long until you and todoroki pass out from the lack of air flow and

Bakugou goes into a rage as he sees your unmoving body displayed across the floor as he was too slow to protect you from this fate

The monster discards Deku’s body across the room like a ragdoll and slides its venom-looking ass next to Bakugou’s face and as soon as his crimson eyes meet then eyeless sockets of complete void, Katsuki’s head is smashed into the floorboard as the demonic energy escapes through the window to wreak havoc on the world.

Kaminari decides to check up on the four that ventured off by themselves and when he enter the room and saw them all laying on the floor huddled together, surrounded by candles all he could think to say was...

”🥺 they didn't invite me to the orgy”

#bakugou x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha #bnha x reader #horror #mha #boko no hero academia #bnha imagines #bakugokatsuki

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elmidol · 4 years

Text

The Soul Once Pure

Three Blind Tooke Part Two Precarious Harmony

Read on AO3

Warnings: angst

Three Blind Tooke

Part Two: Precarious Harmony

Chapter Thirty-Six: The Soul Once Pure

This was the man that had prevented you from joining your allies in the furnace; because of him, you were more than mere ashes. Your mother, likewise, would have been debris if not for him. You walked at his side—Rey behind the pair of you—through the garden. The sun played on his face only to disappear in shadows, and then again return. The perception of him that you had also altered. It played, like a child, on a seesaw. First the kind face rising only to be replaced in the air by the shadowy creature he had once been to you. Monster and man, the two sides of this coin. This final time of playing pretend meant that your mother would not know the horrors you had been subjected to. She was alive, and you did not want to watch her break. This was a new chance for her, for you. She was all that you had left from your old life and the young woman you had left behind when you had joined the Resistance. She, along with your father, was what you had been fighting for. This time, fiction was your weapon. And the monstrous truth was the enemy.

On the Finalizer, there had been a moment where you had seized General Hux’s hand. You now held Kylo’s, although he returned the grip without question or resentment. You had observed in the corner of your eye the way his gaze had dropped. The longing in his eyes at the sight of your hand in his. This was the reality he had wished for, for you to be at his side. It was a beautiful fantasy in a way.

Rey’s presence was something that kept you anchored to reality. Without her, you may have succumbed to the allure of the fantasy. You could feel her reactions through your bond. The worry over you. The moments she did picture the serenity of the scene. The ponderings of what could have been—had the galaxy been different, had all of you met under different circumstances. She kept things in perspective by also thinking of your mother. The joy you felt trickling through the bond regarded you being reunited with your mother. Something she wouldn’t have; a flicker of a memory between her and Ren, him speaking to her about her parents. You did not have all of the information, and you refused to hurt Rey by bringing it up. If ever she wished to talk about it, you would allow her to broach the issue.

The three of you stepped out from the garden, away the trees, and into an open field, across which there was a smaller house. Smaller, that is, by Naboo standards.

That house had been generally empty during your childhood, and you had come to expect it filled only by tourists as well as the occasional guest of your neighbors. You had not expected to find your mother so close to her old home. It did make sense in certain respects; the Knight guarding her would have access to her old belongings, and your mother would be close to your father’s grave. You knew that she would have fought tooth and nail to remain in close enough proximity to visit him.

One of the windows that was visible to you from this distance was open. There was a part of you that wanted to call out to your mother. You wanted to relinquish your hold on Kylo Ren’s hand and go running to the woman though you could not yet see her. Another part remained frightened, terrified that she would not love the person you had become. And that was just it: how could she when you were intent on keeping her from learning the full truth? She would not know you completely. Only the glimpses that you would allow. Maybe in the future, when the war had ended, you would be brave enough and she would be strong enough to know everything.

The door to the house opened. You stopped short, your heart racing in your chest. The black armored Knight of Ren lingered in the doorway, blocking your view from the interior. Beside you, Kylo Ren gave a nod. His subordinate returned the gesture prior to stepping fully outside and moving out the way. He twisted at his torso and called inside to your mother, referring to her by her first name. You felt a sob rising in your throat when her voice called back. Your entire body swayed. Hands were on your arm. Rey’s hands, keeping you steady as Kylo squeezed your hand and looked down at you.

She emerged from the house, your mother dressed in clothes she never would have worn before. It was not that she was snobbish so much as she had always had to worry about being in the public eye. She had not only be representing herself in the past. Now she was. And so she wore looser, more comfortable clothing that were all the same lovely in your opinion. Your mother stopped short when she noticed you standing there.

Her lips pinched into a thin line. For her, it was different. She had seen you more recently in all senses of the word. She had been aware, not under the control of Kylo Ren. You did not have that.

“Mom,” you whispered. She tore her eyes away from you to look instead at Kylo. In a way, you understood her actions. This man was her enemy; the First Order had destroyed the New Republic. And this man was also now the leader of the First Order—did she know that part? “Mother,” you tried again.

The woman lifted a single hand in offering for you to take it. You broke away from Kylo and Rey, stumbling forward and collapsing into your mother’s embrace. You held tightly onto her, your arms crossed behind her back and hands clasping onto the material of her top. Your knees again threatened to buckle. Your mother held onto you, supporting you. The first sob left you then another. Your entire body was shaking with the force of your cries, which drowned out most of her shhs and the whispers of your name spilling from her lips. Her hand stroked down your back repeatedly as she sought to comfort you.

“I know who you are.” You had never before heard such venom in your mother’s voice. Without pulling away from her in the least, you knew that she was addressing Kylo Ren. Said man corrected her, stating that she knew only where he had come from, not his current identity. And then it spilled from him, his title of Supreme Leader of the First Order. Your mother’s hands grasped you, pulling you closer. “She would not have—”

Whatever it was your mother intended on saying, she cut herself off before she could finish. She moved you behind her. Her actions forced you to relinquish your hold on her momentarily; you quickly latched onto the back of her clothes. You could not let go of her for long. A part of you was afraid she would disappear, that she was nothing more than an apparition. Your mother voiced that she was aware it was only due to Kylo Ren that she lived. She knew, too, that he was capable in the Force. From there, she had arrived at the truth—or part of it, at any rate—that Kylo had influenced your actions the last time you had met with her. It was the only way your current reaction made sense.

The Knight of Ren that had been with her since shortly before the destruction of the Hosnian system now laughed. You glanced at him then looked at the Supreme Leader of the First Order. Rey moved forward. The young woman earned your mother’s attention. “What sort of game are you playing?” your mother hissed. Rey froze where she was. “You destroyed the New Republic, however saw fit to spare my life. My daughter lives as well. She belonged to the Resistance. You won’t toy with her like this.”

“Mother…”

“A prisoner of war.” You flinched at the words that were coming from the woman that had given birth to you. She was not backing down from Kylo Ren, whose amusement was clear as day given the smirk on his face. It was as though he was enjoying this experience of learning where you had learned some of your behavior. “You’ve developed feelings for her.”

I want to play make believe. She can’t know. Don’t let her know all the times you raped me.

There was no way for you to speak these words aloud to Kylo without her hearing them as well. You looked to Rey instead, wondering if somehow she could tell him for you. Some sort of warning. Or would that only please the man? His amusement had only grown the more your mother attempted to shield you from him. You had to remind yourself that this was hardly the first time they had met. It was simply the first time that she recognized him for who he truly was.

“I will marry her.” You wished that you could see your mother’s face so that you would know how to comfort her. Your hands trembled where they remained holding her clothes. Kylo Ren looked to Rey, who drew her hand away from the lightsaber on her hip. She was ready to protect your mother, you could sense that. Kylo flicked his attention to the Knight of Ren. Following his gaze, you observed the warrior shifting his hand away from his weapon as well. “When the war is finished, I will return her to you.”

“It’s over for her,” your mother said, her voice quiet with the tone firm.

The Supreme Leader’s eyes darted away from your mother and landed on your face. His confident no preceded the moment you felt the woman begin to tremble. As much as she wanted to have the power to control your fate, to protect you, she did not. What sucked all the air out of your lungs was the words she spoke next. Begging Kylo Ren to spare you by killing you if he refused to leave you here with her; he would destroy you, eliminate all the good that was in you otherwise. The war. The First Order. All of it would erase the parts of you that she loved.

You loved your mother, you did. But in that moment you wished that it was your father that had survived. That you had visited your mother’s grave.

“I am broken!” you screamed, shoving past your mother and Kylo and Rey to run back towards the garden.

Having half expected Kylo Ren to use the Force to stop you, or the Knight of Ren to thwart your temporary escape, you were surprised when you broke past the first of the trees and found your feet on the stone path. What had almost made you stop was your mother shouting your name. Her calling for you, begging you to wait—Maker, you had nearly listened. You were too terrified that you would spill everything to her. She would always know that the relationship you had with Kylo wasn’t typical. You had been his enemy, had been captured. She would know that he had hurt you and interrogated you as a prisoner. Not the extent though. Never that.

You collapsed when you reached your father’s grave. On hands and knees, you stared down at the ground as water collected below you. Your tears.

Footsteps behind you made you hold your breath to keep in the sobs. Was it your mother? Rey? “Creature.” He did not scold you, did not correct you; Kylo Ren responded as though you had said his name. “Am I a monster?”

“She misspoke.” You had heard her say that when she was calling to you. It would have been nice to be able to believe it. “Your mother is worried that you will become the person you were when I controlled you. Hateful towards her. Resentful. Turning your back on morality.” Kylo Ren lowered into a crouch beside you without making physical contact. “I told her that I shattered a part of your mind during interrogation. She won’t know. Rey is with her now. Come back with me.”

You laughed bitterly. To your mother’s standards, you would be half a monster. You threw yourself at your father’s grave and clutched the top of it, hoisting yourself up to your feet. Another laugh caused your shoulders to shake. This had always been the woman who would come home to your mother. Ever since you had been taken as Kylo Ren’s prisoner—even if you had managed to somehow escape him and return home, a part of you had already been broken. In this respect, your father would have fared better. For your mother, it had been one of her greatest fears the moment you had announced that you would be joining the Resistance. War changed people. You would never be the same girl she had raised, that child so innocent.

Had Kylo Ren failed to capture you, you realized, you would still have been broken in your mother’s eyes. You thought of the moment wherein you had been forced to kill your own ally after his weapon had backfired. That was a scar that you would carry.

“She would have been happier to have you here with her,” you told the grave. “I would have been happier… I’d trade places in a heartbeat.” You clenched your teeth. “Why did you let go of my hand?” You landed against Kylo’s chest when you threw yourself backwards. “The thoughts that went through my head… Wanting my mom there...so that I could have my dad here… I’m a monster.”

“Or maybe broken.” You tilted back your head then, not satisfied with the angle at which you were forced to look at his face, you twisted around. He lifted a hand to trace your cheek with his knuckles. It was strange how relaxed you felt at his touch. The gentle way he stroked you was reminiscent of Rey. This was the human part of him, the side he kept buried in the darkness that had drawn him away from his parents and uncle. This was the part of him that you had missed when he had gone away to serve Snoke, when he had left you there alone.

You were grateful that it was Rey who had remained behind with your mother instead of him. Rey was filled with light, not only a small segment here and there. She was the one who could help your mother through the dark storms of confusion that were causing all of this turmoil. Kylo Ren would only have made things worse. Even if he had said nothing more. That was how your mother always had been, and it had served her well in her career. It had served you well when you had developed a similar trait.

This time you did not reach for Ren’s hand. The two of you walked side by side without making physical contact. It was also different in that you stared at the ground the entire way. The feelings of wretchedness had not left you. You were happy that your mother was alive. It had pained you when you had believed that she had been killed during the destruction of the Hosnian system. You lifted your gaze to the doorway only to find that your mother was no longer standing there. You then wondered why it was that you had believed that she would stay put. This was emotional for her as well.

As for the Knight of Ren, you could not hear him as you were able to listen to the the quiet whisperings of your mother and Rey’s conversation. Those susurrations offered you a semblance of comfort in their calm nature.

You paused mere feet from the entrance once you had stepped into the house. Kylo Ren closed the door. He made no move to walk past you, and you found yourself twisting to observe him. A part of you wanted him to greet your mother first this time. That way she could say whatever was on her mind before you made your appearance. Any anger she still harbored would be spent on him. Although, another part of you reasoned, that did not negate the chances of you hearing something hurtful. You stared at him for a little while longer then stopped fighting the inevitable. The longing you felt to see your mother again grew with every step you took in the direction of her voice.

What she had said—at one point, those had been your exact words to Kylo Ren, back when he had been nothing more than a monster to you. You had begged him to simply kill you instead. Demanded it of him. It seemed that there were plenty of ways that you were like her.

Your mother and Rey were seated together on a small couch. Rey noticed you first; your mother sat with her back to the door. Your eyes fell to her lap, to the doll she was holding onto. It had been one of your favorites as a child. One that your father had purchased for you. You could not remember the reason he had bought it. How many years ago had it been?

“Mom,” you said, causing her to turn. The woman did not rise to her feet. She seemed to you more cautious than she had been that first time. Her gaze warmer yet also less certain. “I’m not the person you think you know, not anymore. I won’t ever be that person.”

“I know.” She was not reaching for you as she had at the door. You wanted her to. There was pressure building in your chest. You wanted to tell her that you loved her, but you wanted her to say it first.

What was the extent of her love? She would always love you as a mother loved her daughter. There would be that fondness no matter how far apart the two of you were in a physical sense and otherwise. But did she care for the person you had become? Did this woman respect the choices you were making, that you had already made?

“I never wanted you to involve yourself in—that war was intended to end it. You wouldn’t have to fight. You would not have to carry the scars, because it never fully fades.” You found yourself nodding, agreeing with all that she was saying. “I’m afraid that if you go… This time you won’t come back. You won’t let yourself come back after the things you’ll find yourself doing. You commit yourself to something, and then you…” Your throat felt so thick as your mother swallowed and averted her gaze. “You let it consume you. You’ve always been that way.”

You wanted to tell her that you wouldn’t, not this time, however words failed you.

Kylo Ren stepped forward. Your mother’s attention snapped onto him. “I will bring her back to you.”

“And if you’re dead?” Kylo’s jaw twitched at her words. He managed to hold his tongue, to keep from reacting in anger.

Rey spoke next. “Then I will.” She nodded encouragingly at your mother when the woman looked to her. “She will come back to you.” This time it was Rey who lowered her eyes. “You have to be ready to help her though.” You waited to hear how she would react. What did she have to say to that?

Nothing. Your mother informed the three of you that she was tired, and then, carrying your doll, walked out of the room.

It was not only you that this war had changed. This was not the woman you had left behind. She couldn’t be. She had been forced to deal with the loss of her daughter when you ran away. Then the loss of her husband when your father had passed away. The betrayal that had been dealt to her when the First Order had used you. The destruction of her entire career when Hosnian Prime had met its fate. In her own way, your mother was broken as well.

You moved onto the seat of the couch that she had vacated. Rey had not risen. Her hand went immediately to your knee, and you cupped one of your own around it, keeping her touch from leaving you. You needed something to feel grounded again. Something Light. You could feel her concern through your bond, although that was not necessary. It was written all over her face. She worried for you. You leaned nearer to her and rested your head on her shoulder.

She had waited so long for her own family to come back for her. They never had. Here she witnessed a reunion—oh, Maker. It hadn’t been the first time, had it? Rey had witnessed Kylo’s reunion with his father, and the result. Han Solo’s murder. The apprehension you felt from her, all this fear, it was so similar to your own. You shifted so that you were able to wrap your arms around her. This time Rey rested her head on your shoulder, her arms slipping around you. It was easy for you to forget how vulnerable she was, how much she had given up to be here for you. Leaving behind her friends for now.

It was your decision to return to the home in which you had been raised. Kylo and Rey followed after you, although the former had been delayed by the task of speaking with the Knight of Ren still charged with your mother’s care. At any moment General Hux could decide to make an impromptu visit to Naboo’s surface. The new Supreme Leader was not ready for the redhead’s reaction.

Parting ways with the two Force users once you arrived at the house, you mounted the stairs and walked into your parents’ bedroom. Your mother’s room, your mind corrected. There remained that strange sensation in the back of your head that your father was alive. He could walk through that door with your mother, the two of them sharing one of the secretive smiles. You missed that about them, about your past. You touched the bedsheets, and wondered how your mother had coped. The bed was immaculately made. She had not slept in these covers for some time. How long? It had taken Kylo Ren months to break you. How long had your mother been scrambling to pick up the pieces of her own life?

I dealt the first blow to her by leaving.

For how long had she been clutching your doll? She needed something to hold onto, similarly to how you had used the remnants of Darth Vader’s helmet for comfort.

You smiled weakly while smoothing the crinkles in the covers that you had created. The bedside table had several old photographs that dated back to when your parents had first met and through your younger years. There were no pictures of you after the age of thirteen. They were the years before you truly began to rebel against your mother. You pinched the corner of one, lifting it up and drinking in the features of your father’s face.

There were footsteps coming from the hallway. Instead of entering the bedroom that you were occupying, they continued on further down the hall. You listened to them. Rey’s. She was inside of your bedroom now. Which, you well knew, meant that the second set of footsteps belonged to Kylo Ren. He did not copy the female’s actions of leaving you alone. At the same time, he did not fully intrude. His body blocked whatever light may have entered the room from the hall as he remained in the doorway.

“Tooke… The Knights will arrive by morning. I do not plan on holding an elaborate ceremony. From there, if you wish, I will leave you with your mother.” You lifted your gaze from the photograph. A variety of images swam before your eye. The texture of the wall was a toy for your mind. “It is not my intention to destroy you.”

You knew him well enough to be aware that the offer was genuine. If you asked it of him, Kylo Ren would not force you to participate in the war any further. You could fulfill your mother’s dream of remaining by her side. It was what the Resistance would have done with you if you had succeeded in escaping. Your silence had him speaking again, and you wondered if he was nervous. That you would accept. That you would decline. Which did he fear the most?

You listened as he spoke, his voice passive the more he went on. If you were to embark on the missions he intended for you, your first large target would be none other than Captain Phasma herself. The fight in the throne room on the Supremacy had shown you all you needed to know to be certain that she was a formidable foe. The new Supreme Leader did not want her death traced back to him, as this would cause dissention among the stormtroopers. You did not wish for it to be traced back to the Resistance. Who then? Countless souls come back from the grave; how many had Phasma betrayed in her life? To target her was, in a way, as dangerous as your previous goal of killing Kylo Ren. What kind of a person would you become if you chose to take on this mission?

It’s what I signed up for when I joined the Resistance, you told yourself, averting your gaze from the wall to at last look upon Kylo Ren’s face. “When I would call you creature, was it always tooke that you thought?”

“I thought of you as monster sometimes,” he answered without hesitation. The honesty struck you less harshly than the answer itself. “Other times I thought of you as glitterstim.” You wrinkled your nose. That was a new one for you. Another name to add to the list.

“What if I really am something of a monster, Ren?” You looked to the photographs of your parents. Dissected them in your mind’s eye. Memorized them for the future when you were gone. “I’m glad that she’s alive. But… What I am… I fight monsters. I can never be the girl my mother thinks of me as. I love her. Kriff…. I love her. So much that it hurts, that she can hurt me far worse than you ever did. With you, I never did feel like a monster. But with her… I’m not going to be good enough. That won’t stop me from ensuring the galaxy is safe for her. Phasma and Hux, I’ll kill them both. I’ll be a monster to protect my mother.”

The man who had once been your captor and was soon to be your husband extended his hand towards you. You stepped forward to accept the proffered limb. The leather was cool to your touch in that moment, identically so the following day when you met him at the altar. A small affair. The Knights of Ren had arrived. It was they that prevented General Hux and Captain Phasma from coming planetside during the ceremony. This allowed your mother to be present. She had not understood your refusal to wear white; you were instead adorned in red and gold in a similar fashion to the man that was holding your hand.

It had been at your insistence that the ceremony take place at your father’s graveside. There was no need for him to give you away at your wedding, not really. He had already done so by releasing your hand in order for you to return to the living world with Kylo Ren. You stared at said man through your veil. The two of you dyed red in the garden you had, as a child, played.

Make me a monster like you.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren smut #kylo ren imagine #three blind tooke #elmidolfanfic #precarious harmony

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juleswolverton-hyde · 5 years

Text

Silver Egoism

Genre: Smut, Friends to Lovers, Idol AU

Pairing: Jimin x Reader ft. Jungkook

Warnings: Voyeurism, exhibitionism, dom!/top!Jimin, unprotected car sex (ALWAYS do it safely, lads and lasses), choking, heartbreak, swearing/cussing, creampie, multiple rounds, male masturbation, phone sex (to some degree), overstimulation, (semi-)public sex (does car sex count as that?)

Summary: Within a band as close as a family there is no room for egoism, but one night the envy can no longer be suppressed as a rabbit in love unintentionally tries to outdo a silver fox.

Because when it comes to Love, the rules are different.

And Jealousy will do anything to gain the winning hand.

Masterlist

Friendships can unconsciously deepen by means of little gestures going beyond the realm of mere kindness and gifts to show a person holds more meaning to the other than initially thought. However, even then, the meaning can get lost in translation when the receiver does not reciprocate the emotions which are endeavoured to be shown.

As is the case with the obsidian leather jacket and Chanel necklace gifted to the girl met way back in high school sitting in the chair opposite Jungkook, happily chatting as an unrequited heart sits next to one that recently confessed his feelings for the woman doing the presents justice during a night of drinking white wine together. And despite being like brothers, hating the warm smiles and timidly roseate cheeks whenever Y/N comes over cannot be helped. Still, there is no merit in destroying a close bond on the grounds of unrequited love and henceforth a tongue toxically green with envy remains silent as it pretends to watch cat videos while actually observing the love of a lifetime through the lens of the camera.

Eventually, as the hour grows later and the morning brings the preparation for an interview, the chatter between friends regarded by a hushed third party dies down with the realization of having to make an early start and that going to bed would be the sensible course of action.

‘Alright, I should go.’ Y/N stretches like a feline, a habit likely picked up by hanging out with Yoongi, who is not any competition whatsoever for he acts more like a nagging older brother than a potential rival. And that is fortunate because regardless of having known him longer than yesterday, the musical genius remains a somewhat intimidating individual one should not mess with. ‘I’ll be watching the interview as soon as it comes out. Good luck, lads.’

‘If you want, I can drive you home.’ Jungkook rises simultaneously with the beautiful companion, pulling focused irises away from the screen towards reality.

‘Thanks, but-’

‘I’ll drive her home.’ It comes out on a whim and more vicious than intended, redirecting all attention buzzing in the amicable living room still filled with the energy of the barbecue to celebrate the first good summer weather giving a clear navy and violet twilight sky adorned by sparkling stars. Unfortunately, the splendid circumstances had turned sour by the tropical monsoon that the wind whispered hints of while munching on shaved ice, pushing eight souls indoors. However, it also meant the gorgeous girl was, to much selfish relief, chased off the picnic bench just as Kook tried to sit her down on his lap in a supposedly casual fashion were it not for the clearly yet slowly hardening shape in tight denim jeans.

‘Jimin-ah, are you alright? Why are you upset?’ Taehyung’s brows furrow in sad confusion, always sensitive to the moods of anyone near the golden heart aware of the surroundings more than one might think. ‘Do you want to talk about it? I hate to see you angry.’

‘I’m fine, Tae Tae. Just tired.’ A gentle smile is fabricated with effort but has enough of an effect to make a sometimes too gullible mind believe it for the moment. Howbeit hesitantly so. ‘I’ll just take Y/N home and call it a night.’

‘Hyung, the last few performances have been hard on you so-’ The maknae speaks up again, undaunted by the sharp edge to unintended hostility, and proposes to kindly take on the role of the driver as intended.

But is repaid by the same too venomous irritated exhaustion. Withal, it is not physical tiredness but more so purely emotional. Sensitively sick, all emotions that have bottled up thanks to having to hide in order to save everything coming to a dangerous boiling point. ‘I said I’ll take her home, Kook.’

‘Chim, calm down. You’re clearly exhausted.’ The scent of tulips in spring has appeared between warring parties of which solely one is aware of the fight. The hand first covering a racing heart, the cause of the adrenaline easily mistakable for stress while it is truly the touch and her nearness, rising to swiftly comb through silver manes before coming to rest on the cheek. ‘I’ll be fine on my own and text once I’m home, alright?’

The sweet innocence of sparkling soothing eyes triggers perhaps the most idiotic and selfish decision ever, the storm of feelings no longer able to be contained. Not when being this close and every sense is overrun by the familiar scent of the never-changing perfume, the comforting touch whenever thinking all that is done or said or both will never be enough.

That I am not enough.

For her.

Notwithstanding, just tonight those lingering haunting doubts are put aside as lips unexpectedly crash into each other and a small palm grabs the behind that should have tried to sit on the lap it always does. There is no resistance nor pulling away, only the envelopment of the other cheek and a barely audible gasp dimmed by six-headed surprise filled by soft humoured baritone chuckles when not staring on in speechlessness.

And the broken heart of a long-time amazing now betrayed friend.

Alongside the cruel carelessness of not paying the pain any mind, focusing on making a lasting imprint on long-longed for lips that will ignite a hunger for more instead of on the world coming to a halt.

An existence that slowly starts to turn again as mouths part, a soft murmur all that remains between them and possessive fingers entwining. ‘I’ll take you home. Let’s go.’

‘Um, yeah.’ The attempt of creating a lasting impression is clearly successful, Y/N rendered wordless and needing a second to gain composure before being dragged out the front door with an absent wave of goodbye. ‘Good luck, lads. Figh-’

And plopped down in the passenger seat of the shadowy onyx BMW 8 Series Convertible, proudly brought after completing the driving test and gaining a driver’s license. Swiftly, the belt is fastened and fashionable boots make way to the other side of the vehicle to do the same.

Soon, the engine roars to life, tires screeching over the driveway wrapped in the dusk and speeding towards the illuminated heart of the city.

Towards the medium-sized luxury apartment given as a birthday present last year, simply due to being able to pay for it and wanting the beloved to live a good life.

It has to be said, however, that the current home is a compromise because the original penthouse did not get accepted nor the option to share a roof because the gorgeous woman “did not want to keep me away from the guys and give me space”.

Yet, what was failed to be noticed was that the empty gap carved into an unrequited heart is solely filled by her presence. The reason for that is simple: it is not about money nor fame nor stage persona.

It is about an old friend.

The dancer from Busan.

Chiminie.

‘Uhm, Jimin... about that kiss...’

‘I don’t regret it, especially not because it was in front of everyone.’ Palms tighten around the leather of the steering wheel, voice reduced to dangerous egotistical jealousy. Teeth grit at the memory of the barbecue, Kook trying to settle the wonderful girl at the window displaying a rapid blurry landscape on muscled thighs.

Deform into a snarl when remembering the hardened shape in pants she would have sat against, feeling it. ‘In front of Jungkook.’

‘Jungkook? What does he have to do with this?’ Brows furrow in confusion, sincerely not making the infuriating connection between statements and acts.

‘How can you not understand? After all the hints?’ With a loud noise as of nails scratching a blackboard a sharp turn towards the body of water flowing through the metropolitan is taken, stirring up gravel while descending to the river bank underneath the nearest metal monster of a bridge.

Here, at the waterside reflecting the life of night owls, the engine is turned off before shifting to face the uncomprehending beautiful mistake with perhaps too sharp a tone. ‘I am in love with you! Fucking head over heels.’

‘Why? Why me?’

‘Because with you, I’m normal. With you, I’m okay.’ Frustrated shoulders relax as the volume of speech lowers to a normal conversational level instead of being barely shy of shouting. ‘With you, I’m just Park Jimin, a regular Busan boy.’

‘You’ve never been anyone else to me. Not a celebrity nor a distant person suddenly too good to hang out with normal people.’ A stern severity dims the well-meaning light in honest eyes caressing the cheek once more, the tenderness fading into flickering worry. ‘However, the guy I saw in the living room is somebody I don’t know. Who is he?’

‘He is the guy who cannot deal with seeing his best friend try his luck with the girl he actually loves. He’s the short-tempered unpredictable envious me.’

The me without you.

A persona who rises again by grabbing the wrist to place a wanting kiss on the inside, to take in the scent of young spring clad in leather. At war with the genuine ego forced to simmer beneath the surface and fighting a battle consisting of equal strength. ‘A guy I would never want you to date unless it’s me. No, even if it was me, you shouldn’t. Never let toxic people into your life because it is so short already.’

For a second, Y/N merely looks at double-edged melancholic lips resting on tulip skin. Were it possible, being frozen in this exact moment would likely be the best outcome of the story since this is all there shall ever be if the risked friendship continues to exist.

This is all we have.

All I have.

All that will ever be.

Although, the curiously withholding of something unspoken while continuing to solace a lonesome boy with love forms a hint towards a detail which might alter the seemingly hopeless train of thought. ‘Life’s indeed short, incredibly so. But, Jimin, because it is thus, it also makes every minute with a beloved more precious.’

‘What are you saying?’ Nothing in the attitude leaning forward gives away a straight explanation of the hidden meaning behind the wisdom likely picked up thanks to hanging out with Namjoon hyung. Again, it is fortunate the rapper is merely seen as an older brother instead of being real competition.

‘We see each other very little, but each time we do I’m impossibly glad I have you back for a brief while. My best friend, my...’ The end of the sentence floats in the tense air, blushing cheeks refusing to speak the last part.

‘Your what?’

But eventually do.

‘My... crush.’

The two words spin around, warming up veins grown into arrogant ice and inflating pride to an indescribable extent. Gradually the meaning truly dawns, making both warring egos within mutually smile in relieved excited delight.

The grabbed wrist is lead to regions below where the effects of the frustration still boil painfully though were able to be ignored until now, distracted by the suppressed jealous rage resulting in an outburst. The bottom lip is caught between teeth, not resisting another action of the selfish persona clearly elated by the confession and who has taken over demeanour entirely. Rather, it is perversely fascinated despite playing coy, more so when Y/N’s palm spreads out over hot denim like a blooming flower. ‘Chim, erm, heh, wh- what are you doing?’

I could ask you the same, pretending to be innocent and yet not hiding the need for me.

‘Get in the back, princess.’ Spurred on by the intimate contact essentially ignited by oppressed apparently futile rage, huskiness naturally creeps into the vocal manner of a chest slowly starting to struggle for breath.

‘What?’ Keeping up the pretense or mayhaps sincerely confused by the rapid change in atmosphere, the gorgeous mistress manages to glance away from the point of fascination and take on the roll of the seeker of answers in dark irises regardless of knowing to find none.

‘Backseat. Now.’

Not until a somewhat clumsy way is made to the designated place after hearing the demanding growl and undoing the seatbelt, the hands of a best friend from a great harbour city coming to rest on hips at the end of an enchanting wake.

Until those same hands creep up underneath the oversized shirt despicably lent from someone else before the chance to run up the stairs to retrieve something from the personal collection of clothing, the jacket discarded beforehand. Jungkook had the advantage by being situated on the ground floor of the dorm and literally sprinted to his room once a step into the kitchen was set.

Rip it to reveal the classy Victoria Secret bra underneath.

Another gift.

The meaning of which has only become clear now.

Stone-hued locks tilt to the side in amusement, loving the revelation that compliments the simple Chanel necklace perfectly. ‘Well, would you look at that. Wearing something I got you beneath the shirt of another.’ However, some of the delight dies into the snarling grave of fury at the thought of a charming bunny who outdid a silver fox. ‘Jungkook’s.’

‘He simply offered it so I wouldn’t catch a cold.’ An undignified huff reputes the selfish demeanour though the split second a pout forms tells of a pleasure in driving a boy with love to madness.

Into a persona.

If that is how the game is going to be played, so be it. Anything to make Y/N happy, to create something of our own. Henceforth, husky lips hover over parted ones, teased and left wordless. ‘It sure looked like it, but we both know better. He wanted to see you wearing his shirt, would likely have slipped the scene to see you change into it.’

‘He isn’t like that.’

‘Fair enough, the latter doesn’t apply. Nevertheless, he wanted to confess to you tonight, make you his.’ A cruel smile unconsciously carves itself onto the mouth, thinking of the faltering young face in a disappointed vividly painted image. ‘What a surprise would it have been for him to discover my brand on you.’

‘You’re not so cruel as to actually mean that, are you?’ In spite of the contrasting message by palms slipping to the behind to bring heated bodies closer, big eyes shine with the plead for the current state of mind to not be truthful. Still, the squirming when beginning to move at a slow steady pace to fuel the heat below further while undoing the claps and tossing the bra aside hints at being entranced by the domination. Especially submissive to the tyranny when placing soft kisses from the chest up towards the ear.

To whisper nothing but twilight sincerity. ‘Yes, tonight I am. I meant every word I said in the little periods of time we got to spend together and always will. Life’s too difficult already to complicate it further with lies.’

And show you anyone but myself.

Staying faithful to the thought, skinny jeans are contrastingly calmly tugged off before removing the pair of blushing consenting irises. They know the actual message behind the cryptic wisdom, acknowledging they are not the sole ones to be influenced by the wise leader of BTS. ‘I don’t want to lie to you.’

‘You don’t have, ah, to. Never h- had to.’ Affectionately, warm palms envelop the cheeks while the steady rhythm makes remaining in control of any sense of civilization much harder. And if not that, the barely chaste kisses surely are the cause alongside the bared skin revealed from discarded boxers achingly gliding over wet cotton.

‘Can I ask you something?’ Enough self-control can be exerted to form an important question and register the significant meaning of the nod waiting for the inquiry. ‘Can I be selfish just a little while longer?’

‘Yes.’ The alluring warmth is revealed from beneath the underwear of which the hedonic scent sends the mind into a hazed frenzy and cuts patience short with its temptation. ‘Y- Yes, Jimin!’

Every inch adds to the scenic teary-eyed sight below on the backseat, nails digging into skin helping to colour the painting, guiding hips temporarily slowed down to adjust to the novel enrapturing heat. Exclusive to a harbour town boy with love, the guy beneath the flirty stage persona millions of voices encourage and fawn over.

But he solely does over one person.

The woman beautifully responding to every new strike as shades blend behind shut lashes and create fireworks with every meeting of mouths and stroke.

Something of our own.

This.

This perfect picture.

This is what we have.

Our ending.

And it wants to be shown to the one who almost shredded the canvas.

‘Wha- What are you d- doing? Jimin?’ Y/N looks sensually aghast laced with astonished disappointment at being left hanging somewhere along the way to euphoria despite the harmony of hues strengthened by muffled lewd sounds and physical guidance.

‘Just a minute, princess.’ A rapid mischievous kiss means to nullify the stun, which it does at the cost of creating a quizzical expression on a blushing face as the jeans thrown onto the ground are reached for. From the back pocket, fingers fish out the telephone and dial Jungkook’s number.

After going over thrice, the call is picked up. ‘Hyung? What’s up, why are you- oh.’

Oh, indeed, because neither of the two other parties fully realizes what is going on in the dazed mind under a sensational hypnosis of colourful touches until advances come freely again to resume a shared endeavour long longed for. Exploited at a more savage pace to compose compositions that could not exist with the former method, exacting bittersweet revenge on the steadily becoming breathless young rabbit hanging on the other side of the line.

Tethering.

Alone.

Whereas a Busan dancer and mistress are together on the verge of toppling over the edge.

The arrogant knowledge of this truth sounds through in the proudly jeering undertone of a clear voice leaving no room for mistake, wanting to create havoc to enjoy in schadenfreude. ‘Shit, Jungkook, she’s really tight. Takes cock so well. And her tits, so fucking nice and bouncy.’

And rejoice in the flushed cheeks of the woman the heart has been beating for since the first meeting during a student exchange in high school. Albeit with a degrading manner that expresses the frustration of not entirely coming first at the moment. ‘Do you like that, huh? Being such a slut that you’ve got a man masturbating to hearing me pound you hard and liking it? Spreading your legs just as soon as dick is offered to you?’

The response merely consists of desperate agreeing whines, the warm colours growing hotter as the unintelligible words tumble forth and also spur on the absent yet present boy in love turned sinful in audible fanciful solitude. ‘Fuck, hyung, keep talking like that to her. She sounds so pretty, so whiny.’

The original intent has been reached, egotistically claiming the girl who has been there since the rise of Bangtan while simultaneously feeling the backlash of the sting the chosen punishment for both men in need of chastisement. One for greed and one for attempting to prevent this canvas. ‘Shut up, she’s mine. This is all you’ll get of her, all you’ll hear of her. Just tonight. And I want you to know it’s me between her thighs, not you.’

However, the sneered rebuke is not cared about as the maknae is too lost to actually care, too enraptured by the painting that cannot be seen and close to catch up with the final strokes leading to elevated completion. Notwithstanding, as the sole consciousness same enough to be somewhat of a source of order in the corrupt chaos, the final ultimate state of bliss does not want to be reached before a warning is made very clear.

To hear the mutual claim on me from the panting wonderful enchantress lying on the ruined shirt of an equally as destroyed rival. Hence is why a palm wraps around the heated throat to close off any means of air, the last extreme move to exert dominance. ‘C’mon, tell him how much better I am. That you want me, not him. Say it.’

‘K- Kookie, he- he’s so good.’ The following dominantly rough stroke coaxes out a wonderful complacent high-pitched stream claiming the canvas and the initial painter despite the narrow access to air. ‘Better than you. Fuck! So, so much better. I want him, o- only him.’

After a few repeatings of the same scenario, irritating due to a third wheel yet marvellous thanks to the stunning union, both the defeated golden maknae and Y/N lose a grip on reality.

However, since it happens simultaneously, the younger boy might use it to his advantage in daring yet intolerable later advances or to fancy a colourful storm together with her when not being there. Regardless of what the ulterior goal of the split second of breaking into blissful fragments might turn out to be, it forces the actually still selfishly desperate hand of a boy with love. ‘And yet you cream all over me just as Jungkook cums. Looks like my princess doesn’t know how to show respect and loyalty.’

But anything can be taught if using the appropriate manner, thus hardening the strokes until screaming alabaster flows freely and ever onward without stopping.

Action.

Reaction.

Result.

‘My name, Y/N. Scream my name.’ The slightly slackened hold on the throat forcefully strengthens again, mirroring the reinvigorated power pinning an otherwise wild waist down. ‘Scream my fucking name. Over. And. Over.’

Every word of the last command is accentuated by a sharp advance establishing the desired effect, tuning out almost completely the agonized though satisfied moans of bunny nerves being driven into overdrive. Notwithstanding, instead of allowing them to invoke another euphoria shared with the woman belonging to another, the call is ended just to childishly leave Jungkook hanging dry. ‘Keep calling, babe. He won’t get to hear you again.’

One final stroke triggers the primal second floating in ignorant bliss together with the claimed fleeting soul basking in the dusk enlightened by night owls.

A moment of us.

Slowly and carefully, arms shivering with the blast of shades which are slowly erased lower and meet a warm welcoming pair lovingly enveloping dishevelled grey locks. The soft cheek against which a palm having calmed down in demeanour, no longer suffocating, comes to rest leans into the touch, breathless but sighing in gladness.

‘Did... did you like it? I’m sorry I involved Kook into this, but I couldn’t think clearly. I didn’t want him to confess because I was afraid I’d lose you and that, well, resulted in the self-centred man you’ve been seeing this entire night.’ The confession bordering on a futile waterfall going around in circles manages to be stopped at a good point, preventing speech from crossing the line and falling into a spiral. Instead, the dewy hot throat scented by spring tulips is nuzzled while enjoying the perfume.

‘Had it been anyone else, I don’t think I would’ve enjoyed it as much as I did. So, yes, I really liked it. Really, really liked it.’ A short moment filled with happy giggles lifts a grand part of the heaviness of heart caused by egoism, delighted to no extent upon hearing the sincere amused yet meaningful tone in Y/N’s voice. ‘And before you ask, no matter who the persona is you happen to be in the moment, I still like you.’

‘Even when I’m an arrogant selfish bastard ruining the hopes of his best friend?’

‘Don’t think of it that way, Chim. It’s the choice I made and I have chosen what is right for me. For what I have wanted for the longest time.’

‘I have as well. Wanted this, that is. Even when the company told me I couldn’t.’ A shake of the head dismisses the melancholic thought of the manager’s voice sternly renouncing dating as breathing becomes a tad shallow with grief. ‘This is what’s been hurting me, not being with you. The person who makes me love myself.’

‘Is it selfish then?’

‘No?’ Despite the underlying suggestion, the response is doubtful because the ego overrun by the sensual drive to claim wanted the same but exerted its will in an egotistical manner at the cost of another.

‘No. No, it isn’t. We finally have what we have wanted all along. I don’t want Jungkook and you don’t want somebody else. We’re happy and happiness is never selfish.’ The kiss on the forehead is soothing, assuring of the determined righteousness of the statement and solacing in the request that follows in its wake. ‘Stay over tonight. It’s been too long.’

‘Indeed, too long.’

Too long for true self-love to return.

To have kept it waiting at the door of the familiar apartment.

In empty arms finally embracing the one they should.

Just like the stars in the navy sky transforming into dusky black.

Waiting.

For us.

#BTS #BTS smut #BTS x Reader #ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #Jimin #Park Jimin #Chim #Chim Chim #Jiminie

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suikka · 5 years

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the OK KO finale and how it handled Venomous’s character

i don’t usually post fandom meta on tumblr like, ever, but i just have SO many thoughts about the OK KO finale i’d love to share, especially regarding professor venomous’s character arc, so i’m here to bring out some of my personal analysis about it!

all along i was prepared that we necessarily wont get an explanation to everything because of the time constraints the team had (thanks a lot CN) and i know a lot of people aren’t happy with how venomous’s character was handled in the finale and i, too, hoped that after all that build-up we would’ve gotten at least a little bit more satisfying conclusion to his character arc. he is my favourite character in the show so of course you could also argue that my expectations were a bit higher

that said i really did like the finale for what it was and after analyzing certain parts in more detail i think there’s more to venomous’s development here than meets the eye. i have a lot to discuss so buckle up folks this is gonna be some serious stream of consciousness

before i get into the actual analysis let me start by making clear how i interpret venomous’s character as a whole. i feel like many of his fans see that venomous, without shadowy’s influence, is a pure uwu bean who doesn’t actually want to do anything bad ever and i think that’s…. well, i don’t wanna use the word “wrong” because people are free to interpret him however they want but it doesn’t feel right to me. venomous is a villain. he’s evil. he’s selfish and power-hungry. he ENJOYS being a bitch and doing bad things even without shadowy’s influence. even ian jq himself confirmed he indeed is evil and not just bitter. he is good to the people he does actually care about (fink and boxman) but we’ve seen him be terrible to pretty much everyone who isn’t a villain and even as laserblast his morals were already questionable enough.

something we never got a clear confirmation for was whether or not venomous was exactly.. happy with how merging with shadowy turned out, if that was the kind of power he really wanted. ian told that he willingly accepted shadowy offering him power but i feel like he didn’t completely understand the consequences of doing so. he’s VERY weak-willed and insecure when it comes to the subject of power. he didn’t think through that it would mean shadowy completely overtaking him and hurting the only people that are truly important to him

when TKO punches shadowy out of existence and venomous turns back into his normal self, all that anger and hatred shadowy had is completely gone. since he’s back in control i think he realizes that he made awful choices, he fucked up bad and now the only people he cared about will probably never forgive him. it’s subtle but i think the pained expression tells me enough that he regrets that and he’s ready to face the consequences. he doesn’t talk back, no evil monologue, nothing. instead he’s like fuck me up TKO, i deserve it for ruining the lives of my daughter minion and the love of my life

he only gets devastated when fink runs up to sacrifice herself, because even if he probably believes that he doesn’t deserve her forgiveness, he still deeply cares about her and doesn’t want to see her hurt. even though venomous is evil, this still shows the core difference between him and shadowy as shadowy didn’t really give a shit about fink’s well-being

so let’s fast forward to the part where everyone gets to live their best lives and venomous is given his own planet to destroy because even after all this, he still wants to be the most powerful. you could say he learned nothing after all this, right? well, i don’t think that’s completely true. we can see him wear the laserblast helmet again and that is now the only power he has, which imo tells that he learned to embrace the fact that he already had plenty enough power all along, that his own power, albeit artificial, was always enough. this time he’s the one in control and he can do what he loves the most with fink by his side: being evil and wrecking shit up. this was a time-out he needed to spend time alone with fink again and fix their bonds and also finally live out his power fantasy; this time on his own terms, not under shadowy’s influence. as weird as the whole planet ordeal was to me on the first watch, it makes more sense to me now

so what about that part where venomous and fink come back to destroy plaza? i mostly think that was just meant to be a fun cameo and nothing too deep, but if i were to delve more into it, i like to think this could possibly be a turning point when venomous starts to realize how much he misses the times when he was attacking the plaza with boxman. when he says “we're back to finish what we started”, i don’t think he refers to the complete destruction of the world shadowy was after but the times he was simply attacking the plaza for the fun of it. the key being the fact that he says “we” as in him and fink, since as we know fink was never really up for shadowy’s antics

anyways, once venomous is over his tantrum, he realizes that simply being powerful didn’t fill the void in his heart. he’s had a lot of time to himself to reflect on everything and when he’s finally come in terms with himself, he’s ready to return to the person who filled the void in his heart to begin with: boxman

excuse me for delving into the voxman aspect of this all for a moment but i think it was actually better that they took time with them making up instead of, for example, it happening during the final battle. it feels more realistic to me and it gave both of them have some time to themselves and fix their personal issues before getting back into a relationship. and i think it’s absolutely sweet how it happened this way around instead of boxman trying to pursue venomous despite the fact that boxman has usually been the more clingy one. venomous truly regrets unintentionally hurting him and wants him back and even if he doesn’t really know how to express it, he is really trying (i think it tells something that he seemingly made the cake himself despite not being able to cook)

as for his relationship with KO, i do wish we would’ve seen a conclusion to that, but judging by what we see in the finale they no longer try to connect and you know, that’s probably for the best. i do believe venomous was at least trying to somewhat genuinely get along with him in let’s get shadowy and i’m happy we at least momentarily got that, but KO was clearly uncomfortable with him most of the time and venomous couldn’t connect with him because their interests and morals are like night and day, so in the end he couldn’t bring himself to truly care about him. he was a pretty garbage father to him and it only shows that sometimes it’s okay to not get along with someone just because you’re blood related. KO was still genuinely happy that venomous got to live his best life that doesn’t involve him in the slightest

in conclusion, yes i wish they had fleshed him out more at the end or at least have him face the consequences (P.O.I.N.T. deserves to beat the shit out of him tbh LOL) especially since he played a pretty big role in the show’s main plot, but i’m happy he at least got his happy ending and i’m not blaming the crew for cutting things short. they had lots of characters to give spotlight to in the finale and in the end, the show is about KO so it’s obvious that if they had to give someone more focus in the short time they had, it’s him. but at the end of the day, thank you for watching the show leaves us a lot of gaps to fill in ourselves so i’m just going to assume venomous goes through more development off-screen and hey, that’s what fanworks are for. i personally am plenty satisfied with just the fact that he gets along with boxman and fink again but i know not everyone will agree with my thoughts and that’s okay

i just truly love this show and i will miss it so much

P.S:

THEY’RE CANONICALLY MARRIED AND I’VE NEVER BEEN HAPPIER

#ok ko #ok ko let's be heroes #ok ko spoilers #professor venomous #voxman #ok ko meta #i love the evil snake man and i also love finding the positives about things #sorry for the wall of text but i hope at least someone gets something out of this!

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papipopsicle · 4 years

Text

BULLETPROOF HEART

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Genre: angst and some fluff here and there

Summary: In which Billy's only saving grace in Hawkins is his witty neighbour with cotton candy hair. Y/N was sweet, with a soft touch and caring eyes- too bad she's got a boyfriend, and he's a real dick. AU where Billy has a different backstory than in S3.

Request: Could u do a Billy Hargrove x fem!reader where she is in an abusive relationship but he doesn't know bc she's always covering her bruises and cuts with makeup and clothes, until she arrives at his house all f*cked up? You choose the ending, thanks boo! @ghost-broccoli

Song: Sweet Creature by Harry Styles

Warnings: nothing so far

Words: 1.6K

a/n: fluffy beginnings means angst is to come...

feedback is always appreciated

Billy Hargrove had no idea what love meant. His mother had died in a driving accident eleven months ago. Maybe before that the four letter word held some kind of meaning- he'd never admit it, even back then, but she was his entire world.

But his father found no trouble in moving on, less than a month after the traumatic loss and Neil had a new girlfriend. It took three weeks for him to cheat on Susan Mayfield, and a further week for her to convince him to move their entire life to a dingy little town the other side of America. They were as bad as each other, they deserved to strangle one another with their venomous deceit and end up with nothing but hatred in their hearts.

Billy Hargrove didn't know what love truly meant anymore, but if it was an all consuming feeling of irrevocable passion and a want for someone to be truly happy, then he had found it seven months ago on his first day in Hawkins. Yet he did nothing about it, because she seemed happy in her own little world, but Billy would soon find out it wasn't only his father's appearance that could be deceiving.

"So you're the family moving into Mister Clarke's house?" Y/N called out with a small smile hanging from her lips, skipping down the steps of her porch and crossing the road to greet a boy with ringlet hair and olive skin. He seemed to be unloading a cardboard box from the boot of his navy Camaro, keys carefully balanced between his teeth.

"What?" The boy grunted in a muffled voice as he turned around, bored with the conversation already. Not even an hour into arriving in Indiana and he couldn't take another second of this shithole. His eyes were met with a cloud fogging up his vision, or rather, curls upon curls of long cotton candy pink hair bouncing towards him. Y/N grinned while he shimmied the box to take the metal object out of his mouth, "Yeah, I guess I am."

She wore a short white dress with little blue and pink flowers dotted all over it, knee-high grey socks and black combat boots- it seemed utterly bizarre, but without even knowing her, Billy thought it suited her vibrant personality. Cute.

Y/N slung a small pink bag over her shoulder and stuck her hand out, bright smile making the corners of her eyes crinkle ever so slightly. It was refreshing, rather than having puckered lips in his face and tits pushed so far up you couldn't even see a girl's collar bones, that she smiled with ease and had the most beautifully kind eyes his had met in the past four months.

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N, I live just across the road with my mum and little sister. So, are you going to be coming to Hawkins High? I'm a senior- you know, you might be the first new face I've literally ever seen. Well, apart from a newborn, of course." The girl retracted her hand after a few moments, realising both of his were preoccupied and she instead opted to brush some hair away from her face, which fell right back not even a second later.

"Looks like it." Billy smirked a little, letting a genuine smile fall to his features after a moment. He watched her feet bounce up and down a little and her bubblegum hair moved on que, "Billy."

"Well, Billy," Y/N tried to mimic his golden coast tinged accent, eyes racing over the neglected house behind him before returning to his well built figure, "I'm only a few seconds away if you ever need anything, apart from tonight."

"And where're you disappearing off to tonight then, bubblegum?" The Californian boy couldn't help but mirror her happy tone, finding her positivity overwhelming and infectious in the best kind of way. If it were anyone else, Billy would've started to get annoyed at their preppy attitude, but he simply wanted to protect her from anything bad the world could send Y/N's way. Boy, did that thought haunt him to look back on.

"I'm going on a date." She squealed, failing to hide her pure unadulterated excitement, "A first date, actually. He should be here any minute."

Y/N checked her watch and saw that Declan Harper was twelve minutes late to pick her up. Her lips pursed and she chewed at her bottom lip in thought, disappointment hidden behind her shiny eyes, and her mind raced to find any possible excuse. The girl hated being kept waiting- she always put in a conscious effort to be on time when meeting up with someone and when they didn't do the same it felt like she wasn't their priority. But she was certain Declan wasn't like that.

His eyes rolled playfully, catching sight of Y/N's pink glossed lips for two rather long seconds, "Have a great night, bubbles."

Billy sent the curly haired girl a wink, and turned to bring the box into the house he was meant to call a home from now on. Y/N wandered back over the road after telling him to have a great night settling in, sitting on the steps to her porch and glancing down at her watch again to see that more time had ticked by.

"Hey," The girl's head popped up again as Billy reappeared, crossing the road halfway with the first serious look she'd seen him wear, "come find me if he doesn't treat you like a princess, I'm only a few seconds away."

He mirrored her speech, sending a warm fuzzy feeling straight to her head. She ignored that the same feeling hadn't appeared when the basketball player asked her on a dinner date four days ago, and then again when she noticed his car approaching her house.

The night went by, Declan showed up with a small bouquet of yellow and orange flowers in one hand and an apology in the other. Y/N had a great night, pushing aside the twenty minutes of waiting when he made her giggle and blush at his compliments. She kissed him on the cheek goodbye, but just as she was about to open her front door he twisted her around and locked their lips with a passionate grip on her waist.

She let out a yelp, stumbling backwards in surprise only to find his hands steadying her against his toned body, deepening the kiss before finally setting her free. Y/N chuckled awkwardly, stuttering out a goodbye through burning cheeks and bruised lips.

The girl watched through her windows waving Declan off, moving to her mother's room to let her know she had a good time and was home safe before ten. Y/N began to feel flustered and hot, unable to breathe as she removed her make up. She swapped her girly dress for grey tracksuit bottoms and a bright pink sweatshirt reading 'Barbie' in white text.

My first kiss, Y/N though to herself. It wasn't what she was told as a child and imagined for the past ten years. There weren't any sparks or fireworks and there definitely wasn't a giddy spinning surge of happiness in her head. But that was probably just fairytales and fiction, it was nice enough and Declan seemed sweet.

Y/N tied her hair into a ponytail taming her lions mane, chugged down a glass of ice cold water and went to sit on the porch steps where she had been waiting at hours earlier. Her dad always used to yell it wasn't safe to sit there late at night, but nothing ever happened in Hawkins, other than Mister Clarke forgetting to check his post until midnight.

"So," a deep yet soothing voice called from what seemed like the indigo night sky.

"God?" Y/N whispered in disbelief, looking around to see a shadowy figure appear across the chewed up road.

"Girls have been known to call me that." Billy chuckled, his person dimly lit by the nearby street lamp. His new neighbour looked all too sweet sat on the bottom step of her porch, chin sat against her fleece covered knees, eyes almost glittering in the amber light.

"Shush, you cheeseball." She patted the empty step beside her "Come sit for a bit?"

For over an hour, Y/N Y/L/N and Billy Hargrove chatted about all kinds of nonsense. She told him about the date and her kiss, unable to hide her reservations from Billy that she hid so well from herself. But he didn't say anything, he let her pretend to be happy because, at least her smile was still beaming with hope.

Looking back on it, now with her fragile frame pressed up against his on the exact same steps. He never realised how tiny she was until now, small whimpers and hiccups jolting their body's with his hand pressed against the bloodied forehead he had kissed goodbye too many times.

If only he knew sooner it wasn't hope in her eyes, but the want for something so pure and honest that she never knew what love truly felt like. Declan warped her mind into believing this was love, that love hurt more than healed, and Billy blamed himself for all the torture this flawless soul had to go through.

part two?

Taglist:

@ilkaeliseb @florenceivy @annas-unicorun @astro-sweetheart @4everchrista @delicatelyherdreams @mautand @me-a-hopeless-romantic @buckysjuicyplums @fengarifood @lucyrocks86

Wanna be tagged?? Just send in an ask x

#fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove angst #billy x reader #billy imagine #billy angst #billy fluff #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove x reader

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aimeetiggzx-blog · 5 years

Text

I Used to Think My Abusive Relationship Was My Fault. Now I Know I’m worth more.

I have spent most of my teenage years in emotionally and physically abusive relationships. Until a almost a year ago, I thought I was the worst kind of damaged goods, a girl who could only love men who hurt her I means that’s been my past since I was 15. 5 years now! I didn't want to talk about my experiences at first because I thought that my kind of pain was self-inflicted. If I was stupid enough to stay, I deserved it,

I know there are three sides to every story. In this article, you're going to hear one and that’s mine - Aimee Carver. I don't write this with venom. The men I've been involved with were handsome, smart, charming and talented. There were good times. The bad times outweighed them.

Most people don't know I've been in (to clarify again) emotionally abusive relationships. From the outside, I'd bet my life looks pretty great. Some parts of it always were. I guess I am proof that there is no likely candidate for abuse.

For a long time, I found my romantic past, when the hits started happening I started dreaming of all my ex-boyfriends again.

Trauma is a funny thing. It hides in the shadowy corners of your mind, resurfacing when all you want is for it to be erased from your memory forever.

I'm writing this for a lot of reasons. Some of them are:

I think abusive relationships are an epidemic in our society. It could help someone understand their friend, their sister, their daughter who keeps going back. It could help someone who keeps going back. Because articles like this helped me. Because what trauma really wants is a voice. To anyone who needs help, You think you are crazy. You're anxious all the time. Your heart beats quickly. You have a lot of questions for your boyfriend at the time that you don't feel like you can ask. You wonder if you're always being lied to. You spend a lot time in the past, likely when you first fell in love him. You apologize constantly two your new lover, When you explain your fights to anyone who will listen, no one understands why you're apologizing. You are always confused. You're high as a fucking kite when he's nice to you. He says "one small thing," and with an embarrassing clarity, you are reminded of all the parts of yourself you hate. How can he see those parts so clearly? You cry a lot, you hide a lot. Sometimes you know why. Sometimes you don't.

You are not crazy even if you think your going insane your not.

When you're with your boyfriend in my case my ex you're usually with just him alone. You feel weird around your friends and family, the people you used to feel the most yourself and safest around. You can't remember how to feel like yourself anymore. Now, being in your own skin is like a long dull headache that won't lift and then that slowly feels like normal. Pretty much all your thoughts about yourself are negative.

"I used to be funny, why aren't I funny anymore?"

You think you are crazy.

“Why ain’t I perfect”

“Why ain’t I skinny”

“Jumping over a hug”

There will be good days with your boyfriend. There will be miraculous days of exquisite and suffering beauty between you two.

The sad truth - On these days, you will feel better than the best and like everything's okay. You will believe that the chaos has made you stronger; that he loves you more than anything. These days are bright spots in the darkness that has descended upon you. They are the moments of hope that you'll cling to, your proof that everything is okay, until one wrong word is said and your in hospital due to his harsh actions.But at that time moments aren't a life. Moments aren't enough. You deserve weeks, months and years of feeling like everything is okay. You deserve a lifetime of that.When your relationship ends like mine did, you will drown in the confusing, competing narratives in your head, just like you did while in the relationship. Memory is going to be a weird thing for you for a while. Grief is a delusional state.

We really loved each other (so you thought) I could've helped him if I'd tried harder (but you tried and failed) I'm not perfect. And sometimes, I don't think love should feel like this.

The latter will be quieter, the former will roar inside you. Some days, you will think you left the most beautiful relationship and the truest love in the whole world. Some days you will think you are just hysterical and crazy and that you weren't being abused at all. Until very recently, I still had days like that. After you break up with him, you might not feel an immediate sense of relief, empowerment or really anything that resembles "I know this is the right thing." You will likely feel very alone. Unfortunately, coming out of the fog with your eyes open is more painful than slipping into one without noticing.

But just always remember: feelings aren't the truth. You aren't the worst off you've ever been. Expect the sadness. It sounds crazy but welcome it. That sadness is going to live in you for a long time and it will teach you a lot. I know you don't believe me, but that sadness is your friend. That sadness is your becoming.

Not everyone you lose is a loss.

Tell your story no matter how murky the details seem at first. Keep talking. Read every article you can find on abuse until you feel an intellectual understanding of what happened tunnel into you emotionally. The head will come first, your heart will follow; it will all become clearer.

If you're lucky like I was, you'll find a therapist that can help you. And now I’m in a healthy, beautiful, loving relationship with my boyfriend Louis. It’s early stages but it’s the best kind of love feeling ever. He taught me what love is like, he taught me care but most of all he taught me to be myself again and for that im greatful every single day to you!

Don’t get me wrong you will have to reflect on your past relationship. Don't blame yourself for not leaving sooner, and don't let anyone else blame you, either. In moments of trauma and shock the brain has a funny way of protecting itself. It's called disassociating. You have done a lot of this. You will remember about three months in your ex-boyfriend did something and it was like a mask was lifted. He showed you a person you had never met before. I mention this because statistically an abusive person will do something that throws you completely off balance within the first three months. Then, they will be really sorry.

You will come to learn that real love is not a cycle of cruelty, effusive apologies, a honey-moon period, then a dreaded waiting for the other shoe to drop followed by more cruelty. Abusive relationships are defined by this pattern. When you do leave, you will realize that the space that your relationship took up was enormous. It was, whether you knew it or not, the monkey on the back of every thought you had. When it's gone, the emptiness left in its wake will feel like an ocean around you

It will take way longer than you want to "get over it," and you will think you will never reach the shore.

You will. When I was newly single and going on dates, this is how it went. First, I dated blindly and way more than I should have. I was attracted to guys who were like all my ex-boyfriends, physically and emotionally. Then, I started dating people who were completely different but whom I was not ready to love. Like a teacher, I observed how they treated me with a confusing detachment and thought, "Oh, so this is what it should be like."

"So, this is what kindness is like."

Dating made me feel like the loneliest person in the world for a long time. I wish now I hadn't done it at all, but withdrawal is painful and uncomfortable. I was willing to try anything to feel just a little better. But trust me just like me your king will find his way to you and it will be a little weird at first but that weirdness goes and it will become the most perfect thing in your life.

But in every process till you are full over it You will miss your ex boyfriend in a way you didn't know was possible and you don't think should be allowed. You will want to get back together. Abusive relationships fuck your brain chemistry up. They're addictive, and the withdrawal is not fun.

Don't worry tho baby girl.. with time, your brain will even out. In awhile, you won't want to be with him anymore. Crying helps you detox, so do a lot of it( I still cry alone due to all the horrible flashbacks and memories) you just have to find someone who’s willing to understand and help you over come them not make them worse. So does sleeping, exercise, therapy, eating healthy, seeing your friends and laughing.

For me, alcohol didn't really help I broke down every time trying to kill myself due to the fact of feeling so dirty and broken Or I guess, it did, until it didn't.

When you're in the withdrawal phase, you'll begin to understand why you thought being in an abusive relationship was okay for you. You're going to have to look at a lot of your past and your inherited patterns it’s best to do that alone.. It can get heavy but knuckle through it. You can do it. I’m proof that it can be done.

You will tell people that know your ex-boyfriend about what happened and how he treated you. Likely, no one will be surprised by his behaviour. Likely, no one will confront him. This is one of the saddest parts of our world. You will feel like the last one in on a sick joke.

Your ex-boyfriend will probably never apologize to you. If you do hear from him or see him, he will make you feel crazy. He's really good at that (like sending pics of him and his new girlfriend kissing) He will likely minimize your history, dismiss your relationship and pull the rug out from under you again. The way he frames you and your relationship will be distorted.

I believe that amends can happen, but usually, not in a timely manner. Like you need time to really unpack and understand why it all happened, so will he. Now factor into this that you have the desire to understand yourself and your behaviour. The closure you desire is a myth and it's not reachable in one conversation. Closure happens slowly and keeps happening. You'll give it to yourself.

If you leave your boyfriend for someone else, beware. Until you truly understand why you were in the situation you were, emotionally and intellectually, your subconscious will have a sad way of attracting an identical relationship that looks completely different from the outside. This is not always true.

At first, when the fog is lifting, you will look at your past self with shock and disgust. Then, later, you will look at your past self with sadness. Then, with understanding. Finally, you feel the most visceral pride for the moment you left, even if you didn't want to because you did that on the blind faith that life might be better on the other side. You did that on hope alone. You didn't know what you do now. That's so brave.

“You are so brave”- the only words I need to hear yet waiting for it.

I know how scared you are. I still get scared. My years of all the recovery has been the most challenging and rewarding of my life. It's not perfect and I don't think it ever will be. I get lonely and restless. I live with those feelings. Actually, I try to understand them. One day, your life will look like a version of mine. Things will keep getting better and better, faster and faster. Good things will keep finding you. You will be really happy. That happiness will get so big that you won't notice how the sadness is lifting until it's almost gone.

My life is full of hard work, art, friends who love and support me, friends that I am lucky to know. I have more energy than I know what to do with. I am the most productive I have ever been. I sing, I dance, I have meaningful conversation, I rest, I laugh a lot, I stay out too late. I am closer to my family than ever before. I found my way back to my old friends.

Maybe I'm becoming myself again.

Finally, (I know you're worried about this) you will meet someone else. You will fall in love again and this time, it will be about more than your wounds matching up with someone else's. It will be different and it will be better(I’m proof of that too my new boyfriend is my world for all the good reasons) But something becomes more important to you than romantic love and it's called self-worth. It will feel like it happens almost over night, but you will grow to love the person you are.

You should.

You fought hard to become her.

So love her.

Love Tiggz

AimeeCarver

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poeticsandaliens · 6 years

Text

Spider Eggs

Disclaimer: I wasn’t going to come back to post-MS IV, but I wound up having absolutely nothing to do today, and I needed to write something in between my typical Will-angst and the utter fluff I’ve been reading. Ergo, another weird MSR vignette.

Rating: PG-13

Timeline: Post MS-IV (Yep. Still in this universe.)

Summary: Scully shares her pregnancy with a spider and her eggs, in a strange but fitting friendship.

Tagging @today-in-fic.

The wood pile rotting in their backyard plays host to a society of the Virginia suburbs’ most unwanted. Mulder likes to think they chose this house on purpose, the old-but-still-kicking home of FBI rejects and the sometimes-home of a superhero who doesn’t want to be. Three people whom even death turned away.

Scully lets a raccoon scuffle about as long as it stays away from the house. She tolerates garter snakes and even the stag that munches on their garden. But it’s the black widow spider, tucked into a shadowy corner of the wood pile that fascinates her. She keeps her distance—she’s isn’t stupid—but she watches it craft an immaculate mess of a web. A perfectly disordered home.

One evening in July, the egg sac takes her by surprise. A tight little ball of twine nestled in the corner of the web. Always polite, Scully offers her congratulations.

She’s pretty sure that one typically shares one’s pregnancy with other women—women from mommy blogs and well-timed doctors’ appointments, not a venomous spider she found in the backyard. She has also stopped caring what people typically do—a side effect of twenty-five years with Fox ‘Spooky’ Mulder and of being at least fifteen years older than the couples they see in the obstetrician’s waiting room.

Scully bears her heart to the eight-legged companion. It makes sense, somehow. She carries a cocktail of emotions that only a spider would understand—dancing on fragile strings, catching meals on the fly. Like a spider, she hunts and is hunted her entire life. It’s a wonder she and Mulder were never squished under an old man’s combat boot. It’s a wonder he never crushed their bodies with a dead cigarette and left them dismembered on a grocery store sidewalk for some child to gawk at, scarlet hourglass shining flat on the asphalt.

When Melissa was ten years old, a black widow bit her arm while she was playing in the holly bushes, and Ahab rushed her to the emergency room. They pumped her full of an antidote and sent her home, promising that after a few days of nausea and low fever, she would be fine. For such an infamous creature, the black widow’s attack was strangely underwhelming.

Scully overlooks the crack between two decrepit boards where the spider has built its family. She sips an extra-large lemonate from the gas station down the street. She resents how awkwardly she moves through the tall grass, keys in one hand and soda in the other, her still-small baby bump cumbersome even now. In the isolation of their middle-of-nowhere home, she wants to be vocally proud of her unborn child, and she wants someone to listen.

“Hey, Missy,” she says, stopping ten feet from the spider and her eggs. At first, she wondered if it was inappropriate to name it Missy, but this is how she honors her sister because if Missy were here, she would share share in this strange experience. If Missy were to be reincarnated, she would love to come back as a spider.

The spider crawls lazily into the light, teetering on the upper strand of its web. There it stills. Its hourglass glints in the sun.

“We haven’t spoken since the twenty week appointment,” Scully begins to ramble. “It’s a healthy baby, but with my age and my medical history I’m afraid to be optimistic. Will came by the other day, and he seems excited by the prospect of a baby sister. I think it makes him hopeful, and every time he smiles, the guilt wears off a little bit. It’s strange and awkward with him. It’s strange and awkward to be pregnant again. Everything is awkward, but I’m getting used to it.”

Today is the first day she’s stopped feeling as though her life is a haunted house, an endless stretch of waiting for something awful to jump out at you. To spin around and find a horrifying creature chasing you with a chainsaw like a fucking Halloween movie.

Mulder helps. He looks at her like she netted the moon and hung it over his bed. He touches her gingerly, with unadulterated amazement, as if she rode into his life in a UFO and her body is made of gypsy moths, fleeting and velvet-soft. Like the moths beneath their porch light, she is bordering on clumsily large, although in coming months she’ll not so much flutter as waddle.

The spider retreats back into its web and crouches over its egg sac. Scully envies its slow grace. She hopes she remains as elegant as Missy, as quietly confident in her ability to protect her children from harm. Scully likes to think she has a dangerous bite, deadly to anyone who tries to hurt her son or her unborn daughter. She has bitten like Missy in the past, with her firearm. Too many times, she’s had to bite.

She tells Missy, “I hope your family is healthy. You chose a nice home; any closer to the house and we might have to relocate you. I don’t think your babies would like ours very much.” She chuckles softly and dares to touch the curve of her abdomen. Dares to believe she’ll have a baby and not a tragedy. Sometimes, it hurts too much to be skeptical.

She wishes Missy a happy evening and goes inside.

Autumn arrives, and with it the spider’s inexorable death. She didn’t really consider this part. The part where befriending a spider would inevitably end in her standing teary-eyed before the empty web and it’s stiff exoskeleton hourglass-up in the grass. She is a scientist. She’s read Charlotte’s Web. She knows how these things go. That doesn’t stop her overflowing hormones or the stupid tendency of humans to anthropomorphize everything they speak to.

Standing next to her, Mulder pulls her into a hug. “I’m sorry, Scully. I didn’t know she was that important to you.”

“I didn’t either,” Scully sniffs. She allows herself a weepy laugh. “I feel silly.”

“No,” Mulder tilts her chin and kisses her. “Never silly.”

She wipes the corners of her eyes. “It’s hormones.”

“Scully,” he says, “you’re allowed to be sad over a spider. It doesn’t invalidate your grief for bigger tragedies.”

“I know…” Scully trails off. “It’s irrational, but I hoped she would live until the baby was born.” Mother to mother, creature to creature on this unforgiving planet. She took comfort in watching the egg sac bloom, the lives within it healthy and strong. Her own stomach rounded in time with the knot of spider silk. For each day the spider eggs grew, she let herself hope that something so small would survive here, in the fragile ruins of a human structure. If the spider could do it so could she, and oh, how fragile she felt. She had forgotten how small her frame had always been, how spare and wiry. She only got tougher with age.

“Scully?”

She looks up to Mulder’s concerned eyes. “Hmm?”

“Are you ready to go inside?”

It’s code for I love you. Everything is. The way he grills sandwiches in his boxers, the way he inhales the blueberry scent of her shampoo after they shower, the way he plays eighties rock so quietly it sounds like a waltz and dances her around their living room. She sees it in the way he makes love to her at sunrise, the way he rolls up her nightshirt when he thinks she’s asleep and presses his cheek to her belly, the way he worships her body as if everything and nothing has changed.

“Yes. Let’s go in,” she agrees. She clings to the smell of him—fresh grass and sawdust and the coffee she can’t drink—and together, they go inside. Before she closes the door, Scully whispers a brief, “thank you,” to Missy the poisonous spider, for the odd comforts she provided. And odd friendship was what she needed, to match the oddness blossoming in every other facet of her life.

Outside, the breeze ruffles Missy’s empty web, twitches the corpse’s legs. The trees bend; the forest churns and hums with living creatures. Insects mate and die. Life finds a way. A tiny black spider takes shelter in a knot of wood.

#the x-files #txf fanfic #msr fanfic #fox mulder #dana scully #ficlet #stupid midlife miracle baby #todayinfic

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frejahertziswritingthistime · 6 years

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Teenage kicks chapter 5

A/N: I’m so glad you guys like this story! I’m sorry it’s been such a long wait for this chapter, but here it is!

This story is dedicated to the beautiful and fantastic @redeyedvixen, and it had been requested by the sweet @theboundlesssoul. I think this will be the last chapter with a flashback to the woeful teenage years, just so you guys are prepared.

Remember, I always say yes to requests and feedback feeds the writer!

Teenage kicks masterlist

MASTERLIST

Pairings: Dean x reader

Warnings: language

DEAN’S POV

Summer, 1995

Dean didn’t hear his father come in, but he definitely heard the grumble of his voice, and the harsh words aimed at Sam. Dean had shrunk into the shadows of his room, praying to dear god above, that they didn’t need to leave right now.

He was finally starting to feel happy again. Y/N had crept under his skin, he would admit it, and he was actually starting to… Tingle, whenever she was around. She was still fucking annoying, if he was being honest, but she was his kind of annoying. She was cute.

He knew she had something planned for tonight, but with John here, it would end up shit creek, and he knew it. Dean wasn’t one for being mean, but… John was. He froze, as he heard heavy footsteps. Fuck. He wasn’t ready for this, he wasn’t ready to let her go yet – he might as well admit it, he was in goddamn, stupid, floozy love. Heart jumping, every time he saw her, her laugh was song and all the other crap, people always talked about.

“Son.” John’s voice sounded from the door. Dean didn’t look at him. “Son.” His voice was insistent now, forcing Dean to look at him. “pack up. We’re leaving.” Dean sighed and closed his eyes.

“Why? Why can’t we just stay for a little while? I just…” John’s gaze hardened as Dean’s voice trailed off. “Pack, Dean.” Dean shook his head; he was going to try with all his might to stand up to him, but it didn’t help – he knew it, John was too much inside of him. The will to follow orders was too much for him.

“I just… I’m happy, dad. I’m happy here. I’m… Y/N. We can’t just leave in the middle of the night.” He tried the last thing, he knew might be able to sway him. John’s lip twitched. “Really? I didn’t think you’d want to be a goddamn babysitter. Stop it, pack, and let’s go. Trust me, if you stay, she’ll suffer. She’ll die, you know it. It’s our curse, son.”

“Dad, please…” John rolled his eyes.

“Dean.” Dean stood up, his stance grounded. He didn’t want to go. “What do you think you’re doing? We’re going, Now boy!” John stepped closer to him, and Dean shook his head. “dad, I just…” It was a mistake. John’s hand came flying down, hitting his cheek hard.

“You want to stay for that... girl? Don’t you know what we’re doing here!?” John’s eyes were flaring with anger. Dean didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. “get fucking packing, kid.” John left, leaving the door open.

Dean’s cheek was burning, and his eyes were swimming in tears. He couldn’t show emotions. Not now. He threw his clothes in a bag, giving zero fucks about what he put in the stupid bag.

“Dean?” Shit. Her voice made him want to stop, just let it all go to hell, but he couldn’t. he knew he needed to leave. For her. John had been right. “Please…” He mumbled under his breath, but she either didn’t hear him, or she ignored it.

“Are… Are you leaving?” She asked. Her voice was so small, so… Fuck. “yea.” He said with a huff, his clothes flying down in the bag. “Hey! What the hell? You could at least answer me, douche.” Fuck, he didn’t want her to be mad. He knew he was hurting her, but what other choice did he have?

“What do you want me to say? You think we’ve got something special, sweetheart?” He spat. It didn’t feel right. He didn’t want to do this, he hated the venom in his voice. She took a step back from him, her eyes wide and scared. He knew he had to make her hate him, or she’d never leave his head.

“Aw, did you think you were something special?” he made himself say it, stepping forward. Dean was hating himself, hating how he made her feel. He could see the hurt on her face, but he had to get the last fucking blow in, make sure she wouldn’t try to do something. To not follow him.

“You’re nothing. You’re nothing to me, and if you would ever think I would ever stay behind for you, you must be crazy. You were just a way to pass time, no-name, and you weren’t even that pretty to begin with. Just get out of my face.” He spat, the venom in his voice leaking off his tongue. He grabbed his bag and flung it over his shoulder and pushed past her; she was rooted in place, unmoving, tears streaming down her face, and he ran out of Bobby’s house, her face the only thing he could see.

As the car drove out of the driveway, Sam’s sobs echoing through the small car, Dean looked back. He could see the shadowy figure of her standing in his room.

He knew right then and there, that he would never be able to let her go. She would always be in his head. Always be in the back of his mind.

She was the one, who got away. Forever.

Present day

Dean looked at his phone for the 123578465 time in the last few hours. It had been silent since they left the motel-room, despite him trying to jedi-mindtrick her to write to him. Sam rolled his eyes at him, as Dean groaned and threw his phone on the table.

“Dude, let it go. I think you mucked it up, if I’m being honest.” Sam looked at him with a shit-eating smirk on his face, and Dean was in half a mind to fucking punch it off of his face.

“Shut it, Sammy.” Sam cocked his eyebrow. “Fuck, I know I could’ve handled it better, okay. I know I fucked up. Just… Stop it. She’ll write me.” Dean said before stuffing his mouth with bacon. Sam rolled his eyes. “You’ll never learn, will you?” Dean rolled his eyes at his brother, but didn’t say anything, because Sam was right.

He wouldn’t learn. She had slipped right through his fucking fingers again because he couldn’t get the courage to try and act like a normal human, person; he had hurt her again instead of telling her the truth. Fucking typical. Sam was glaring at him with the stupid smirk on his face, all through their horrible, diner breakfast. Dean couldn’t tear his mind from Y/N; her glare at him, the unbridled hate in her eyes, her snarky comments… Her body. Her moans. Her voice. Everything, really, was playing like a fucking movie in his mind, and he couldn’t get her out.

He knew he should have been more aggressive. He knew he should have stayed, fought for his case, tried to tell her that he never meant the things he said way back when. He should have told her, that all he wanted was to stay with her, make her scream his name over and over, and he knew he should have told her, that she’s been in his mind for the last 12 years. He knew. He was a coward.

“let’s go.” Dean said gruffly to Sam, who stood up and threw a bunch of bills on the table, before leaving the diner. Dean checked his phone again, but nothing came up. Fuck it. As he and Sam drove down the highway, he made a decision. To let go.

A month later, and they had done a whole shitton of salt and burns, a few demons, one witch, and Dean was still checking his phone ever five minutes. He had let go, for a day, but he couldn’t leave it at that; he loved her, even though he knew, he shouldn’t. Sam had, thankfully, kept his trap shut and only eyerolled every once in a while.

It didn’t matter, anyway. He knew she wouldn’t contact him, but he couldn’t help but hope. Either way, she would live a very badass, hunter life without him in it, and even though it hurt his goddamn, marred soul, he couldn’t blame her for wanting it.

He still remembered every single encounter they had ever had; all the way from 1995 to now. He saw her face in every single woman on the street. He couldn’t get her out of his head. Dean wasn’t a man, who got hung up on anyone. Ever. But she had snaked his way into his brain and stayed there for fucking 12 years; and then he had seen her, being so… Perfect. Lethal. He couldn’t force his mind from her, even though he tried his hardest by forcing himself to look at other women. Really look at them. But all he saw was her face, or hear her voice. It was hopeless. Even Sam said it – he was hopeless, a coward and he should have known better. He should have done better.

“Dude, stop doing this. You’re torturing yourself, just let it go, man.” Sam grumbled after Dean checked his phone again. They had been trying to get intel on the monsters, that were mangling half the small fishing-town, but Dean couldn’t focus. He thought he had seen her in the town, and he had not been able to get the brief glimpse out of his head. He knew, it probably had been a trick of his mind because he’d been thinking about her lately, but still.

“Dean?” He looked up at Sam. “Aren’t you going to get that?” he asked with a pointed glare at Dean’s phone, which was lighting up – a unknown number was calling. He sighed, and pressed the answer-button.

“Dean.” He answered. The voice in the other end made him freeze, eyes wide and staring wildly at his brother.

“Hey, douche-head. We need to talk, like right fucking now. Meet me at the café at the pier in thirty.”

TAGLIST: @hobby27, @trustnobodyshootfirst, @wingedcatninja, @supernatural-idjit-95, @polina-93, @greenarrowhead, @baconlover001, @mypage-myfandoms

FOREVERLIST: @supernaturalmagicfolk, @redeyedvixen, @al1y, @roonyxx, @sea040561, @heyitscam99, @sherlockstolemyname, @tayyfvck

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ryssa-ravensdawn · 6 years

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The Captain’s chosen dreamscape never changed. It was the deck of her flagship, The Ravensdawn, overlooking peaceful waters. The ship swayed in the soft lull of the ocean, witnessed only by the twin moons of Azeroth. This was Ryssa’s paradise. Nothing felt more like home than the endless expanse of the sea. Whether it was the sun brightening the waves or the moonlight being broken by choppy waters, the Captain was calmed by the gentle sway of the ship. She did not need a siren to sing her song to pull her into the ocean.

She had sailed before she had learned how to walk.

The breeze carried the familiar scent to her, brushing back blood-red locks. It was her father’s scent of sweat, leather, roses, and sandalwood. For a moment, she imagined hands, brushing back her hair and tying it into a ponytail as he had done when she was a little girl. So long ago.

A few wisps of white could be seen strewn about the crimson mane nowadays. It was not a fashion statement for Ryssa. It was a mark of whatever lay dormant within her. The very thing she feared and needed to face. It made the mark on her abdomen sting as she thought about it. Her fingers idly brushed over the circle and its horns, willing it away.

It was an unknown and she got the worst feeling about it.

“This is wrong.” The mark on her stomach seemed to sting at her dismissal. Something within her spoke, a whisper that told her that this mark was not hers to bear. She had another destiny and not at the beck and call of a creature made of shadows.

Yet this thing lived in her brother.

“Kael.” She whispered under her breath, bidding her brother to listen to her. They had been but children when they had figured out that they could invade each other’s dreams. Of course, the only stipulation was that the other was sleeping. Kael rarely slept nowadays and he had found ways to keep her out.

“Kael’deryn Tyberius Ravensdawn. I call upon your given name. Hear my call from the dreamworld. I need you. Please…I need your guidance.” Her voice was a soft supplication against the dream winds that caressed her. The sting at her abdomen was suddenly everywhere on her skin. The wind was too cold and she found her surroundings changing. It was no longer the peaceful midnight seas but the turbulent, icy waters of the north.

The landscape was changing far too quickly and she realized that her dream was being manipulated. The cold bit at her bare skin. She was only dressed in a crop top and leather pants meant for warmer weather. Calling upon the dream, she willed a fur lined cloak upon herself and pulled it tightly against her body. “Kael. Talk to me. Don’t pull this bullshit on me.”

“I͞ ̷a͠m͠ ͏K͡ae̢l ̨a̸ǹd ̡h͟e͠ ̀is̀s͠ss me.”̧ The voice came first, disembodied and echoing. The figure manifested on the deck of her dream ship. It appeared as a simple black puddle of black ichor before a figure rose from within it in a strange, horrific manner. Shadows coiled around it, wisps forming the figure of her brother until she was left staring up at his tall figure. His skin was a pale violet, his eyes a dark purple, and his hair…his lovely blood-red hair had gone silvery white.

If this was her own fate, to battle some being that lay sequestered within her, she would fight it tooth and claw.

“I am not feeling well enough for this metaphysical fuckery right now.” She shoved a finger at her brother’s chest. He was very much real and solid. “Believe me. The moment I know how, I will knock you out of him so fast you won’t know what realm you are in. Now let me talk to my brother in peace before I vanquish your sorry ass back into whatever darkness my mother pulled you out of.”

“I ̕a҉m ͢the̡ ͜Da҉rk͟ness, my̷ Q͞uee̶n͡.” It hissed back at her.

“Then release my brother, slave.” Ryssa snapped, irate. Even in her dream, she could feel the wound in her right palm on the physical realm. The pain was liable to wake her before she was able to communicate with her brother. The dull throb of the wound was already enough that she was struggling to stay in the dream state.

“We ̛answe̷r͢ ̛t͡o͏ ͠n͞o̡ ̵one͟.͡” The figure began to dissipate, fading into a shadowy transparency. It mocked her in echo.

“That is not entirely true. You answer to someone or something, Great Father of Lies. Come talk to me, Great Serpent of the Dark. Stay a while, Soul Drinker and I will pay tribute to you in blood.” The figure ceased disappearing. Instead, it began to grow solid once more. Kael’s eyes narrowed at his sister but he said nothing. Instead, he scowled down at her and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What's the matter? Is blood not what you want, Great Devourer?”

“What is it that you want, Ryssa?” Her brother’s voice was the familiar tenor she knew. Even the look he was giving her was that of annoyance. That was Kael alright.

“I did something.” She began, biting down on her lower lip as she reminisced upon the events. “I broke the bond a risen spirit had with her Master. I broke it…and made her mine. I knew I could make her do anything and she would have no choice.”

A small frown painted Kael’s features despite the smile that began to quirk at the corner of his lips. “That you did.” He murmured, still watching her in eternal aggravation. “I felt it through our bond. Personally, I did not think you would ever manifest it to that degree. I thought you were condemned to just seeing and talking to spirits. And that odd bit of psychometry you have. I, however, see no reason why you needed to bring this to my attention. Being that you are one of few blood relatives that I still have, take care to not flaunt that ability, will you? The dead do not like necromancers. The living fear them.”

“For shadow’s sake, Kael, I do not want it. It is tainted … just like that … thing that lives inside you.”

“Death cannot be tainted. It is a part of nature. Necromancers have long been a part of the balance despite the talk of being abominations to life itself. The druids commune with nature and their spirits but you do not see anyone calling them out. The shamans talk to the elemental spirits and no one is up in arms about it. Instead, they are revered.”

“That is different. They are-“

“Is it?” Kael’s head canted ever so slightly as he looked upon his sister. “Necromancy is but the practice of communicating with the dead either by summoning them or in the rare occasion, raising them in the flesh. Is that not what they do?”

“Necromancy is-“

“Tch. Do not begin down that path, sister. It is not evil or good. Magic itself is gray. Our innate ability with the spirits, souls, death, and life-forces have long been passed down our line. You and I know this. It is our intent that colors our magic. Did you really call me into this dreamscape to debate the morality of necromancy?”

“No. I called you because I need help controlling it and I needed to do this.” She took a swing at him, rolling her hand into a tight fist. With amazing quickness, she aimed straight for his face. It made a satisfying crunch and she knew he would feel the pain of it in the waking world. He reeled back and brought hands to his face. “That was for manipulating and fucking with my memories and because that thing inside of you is an asshole.”

There was a long silence between both of them before Kael slowly let out a sigh, still rubbing his nose. Ryssa was ignoring the pain of her knuckles. It made it harder to stay in the dream world but Kael had it coming for a long time. He simply nodded, a glare lingering on his violet eyes.

“Very well. Bolster your mental shields against spirits. If you can get extra protection against them, I would recommend it. Avoid graveyards and other necromancers if you can. You’ll feel their aura before you know what they are.” He paused, lost in thought for a second. “Meet me at my Ghostlands Sanctum in five days time and we will get it under control.”

“Thank you, brother”

“Your payment will come in due time.” With that, the figure began to dissipate once more, fading from existence in the dream world. She was left on the deck of The Ravensdawn once more, alone. Idly, she felt herself being pulled into the waking world by pain and a mind too active to remain asleep. Too many things were on her mind and all of them seemed to be of essence.

Her men were wounded. She was weakened. Kael was still pulling his esoteric bullshit. And the real Ravensdawn ship had nearly been sunk. One need not to mention the artifacts in the vaults that needed tending to.

But how to cleanse them without attracting every dead thing within a hundred mile radius?

The pain in her palm was getting worse. Consciousness was slowly beginning to pull her back to reality. She lingered for a longer moment in the dream, enjoying the tropical clime now that she had control of her dreamscape once more. The fur-lined cloak was shed, taking one last breath of freedom before she had to go back to being landlocked in the waking world. The Captain would take what she could.

Resigned, she let consciousness seep back into her. It was only then that a venomous mist crept into her dreamscape. It moved and looked much like the shadows Kael usually appeared out of but these were a sickly green. The color of felfire.

“Oh that’s nice.” She murmured. “Thinking too hard on all this, I’m forcing myself into a nightmare.” Her tone was a bit dry as the replica of the guardian owl that had tried to sink her ship appeared in her dream. Thinking it strange but not giving it much thought, she knew that her own mind could be a weapon against her in dreams.

In slight confusion, she saw the owl begin to melt. She had broken that damned thing, had she not? She remembered it as a pile of scrap but here it was, whole and melting into flesh. Pockmarks marred the skin and the mechanical avian elongated to form a gaunt Sin’dorei male. The Captain took a few steps back out of precaution. She realized that this was not her but something else. This thing could very well hurt her within her own dreamscape. In fact, she was willing herself to wake but she was being forced to bear witness to this creature.

“You took one of mine. I will take one of yours. My family will always live on through me.” The male spoke, his breath nothing but dusty graves and a scent she associated with Shadowmoon Valley. It made her own breath hitch as she stared in half-horror at the male. She was not afraid of his presence but rather of how he had gotten in.

It meant her mental and mind shields were too weak to keep others out.

“Coldlight.” She said through gritted teeth as the pain in her palm had reached an excruciating level. She had cut her own palm as she had held on to the blade of her own cutlass. The poison that coated the blade had seeped in enough that by the time the medics got to it, it was nigh near impossible to cleanse it. They had done their best to clean it and bandage it but the pain of the poison continued to plague her as she rode it out.

The pain should have been enough to wake her. It was time for more painkillers but she was stuck in her dream state, soaked in sweat in the waking world. No one had noticed as she appeared to be sleeping quite fitfully last time they had checked.

“An even trade, Captain.” The male smiled, appraising the woman that had meddled in his affairs. The redheaded let out a bitter laugh as she was given the once-over by the creature she had seen in the vaults.

“Take one of my men, Coldfingers and you will rue the day you were born.”

“My family is eternal. The next time we meet, *Captain*, you will kneel to me. Then we will see *who will serve who.*" Coldlight's voice echoed in her mind as she was finally released from her dream. She jolted awake, staring at the ceiling of the medical bay. A chill was already beginning to work down her back from the sticky sweat the pain and poison were causing.

She sat up, startling a medical attendant nearby. He said something but Ryssa was already on her feet and out of bed. “Where are they?!” Her voice was harsh from misuse. She was looking for her crew. In her haste, she had failed to notice that she was in a very unflattering gown that was waving freely behind her. There was only one thought in her mind.

She had to account for all of her men.

Mentions: @thebuildingcacophony [ for Coldlight ) / @theron-darksunder

#rp #the dark #dio'zochal #coldlight #story progression #my writing

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avryujin-blog · 5 years

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solo. | broken white lies.

He stood not on desolate lands, but the Avengers Park. He supposed he should think it’s good to be back, but the moonshine bottle in his hand was a heavy reminder of what he lost. Looking at the dirty and scratched up glass, he could not help but thumb the opening that was without its cap. ( “Take this, don’t forget me, because I’ll be back!” As he did the terminator pose, a reference most likely lost to the other. He tried to ignore how it felt as if a piece of his heart that was just healing was ripped off again as he looked at the other. Because this was not where he belonged, not really. This wasn’t his home and he was an idiot to have given pieces of his ruined heart like that. He may have said that, but deep down he thought that he’ll never return. And even if he did, it’d probably be when the other’s in his grave. God, the fact he shared a face with Sungjin too— He wanted to hurl, but this was what he did to himself. And for that alternate Sungjin, he had to at least give him hope. In that shitty world, he needed to give something good instead of showing how deeply broken he was inside. A nice white lie.) He should really stop these connections, all these strings he tied himself with to others. It only served to hurt himself more. However, with the knowledge that the world wasn’t thousands of years ahead...that meant that perhaps, some people did still exist. It could only be so right? That was the logical explanation, the hopeful idea. Yet, in the pits of his core, there’s always the belief that something’s just going to fuck up even more. And as he finally raised his head, he found his gaze instantly drawn to the shadows of some trees. For he saw familiar rubies within, and when he did... God, things was just going to get worse wasn’t it?

Discreetly, he moved away. He wondered what Death wanted from him this time. But with such thoughts in mind distracting him, once he entered the shadowy area—he found himself falling down to an abyss. Biting his lips to prevent himself from yelping and holding the moonshine bottle close to prevent it from breaking, he only made a sound once he slammed face-first to the ground. The ground he ha no doubt was of Death’s realm and not anywhere near the Avengers park or the living world for that matter. “And I put that landing to a D. Really Ryu-chan, you couldn’t have landed in the pit of spikes like last time? Is your luck getting better or is this a rare time karma decided to be nice to you because you got fucked up badly?” He groaned hearing a familiar voice, rolling over and thanking the fact he did not break his nose,he looked up to see the face of the bitchiest bitch to ever bitch. Blues glared into reds, a scowl on his feature that was a contrast to her cheshire grin. “Oh come on love, don’t be so gloomy! Shouldn’t you be happy that bottle of your’s didn’t break?” She teased, causing him to roll his eyes as he moved himself to a standing position. “The fuck you want woman? I know you know I just dealt with some shit and I don’t want to see your face just yet.” He snidely responded, but as he caught her expression he froze. It was set into a smile of cheer, he usual expression, however he knew her too well. Her eyes were telling, those bloody orbs that now looked at him in pity. Oh, he wasn’t going to like this at all. “Seventy years passed only, huh? That must be nice to know.” She nonchalantly stated, looking down at her nails that were just as red as her eyes and lips. Anxiety started to wash over him, a rush of a moment that only Death seemed to be capable of doing to him. He was only controlling himself because he didn’t want to break the bottle in his hand. “...Ebony, get to the point.” Words that sounded like an order, but both knew were a plea. And the use of her human name was telling, a sign that things have just gotten serious—a mood they detested. She froze, before she looked back at him. Silence befell upon them, and he felt the nerves ready to burst. But finally, the powerful being spoke. “Don’t get your hopes up. They don’t exist anymore.” She bluntly told him, causing him to flinch. But she did not stop there, instead she dropped an even more powerful bomb. “In fact, the world you know is gone.” Silence once more, and only a stunned look from him before he choked out a “What?” She didn’t quickly answer once more, merely looking at him. Saw how he was crumbling bit by bit when he was already in a fractured state. But it was necessary to tell him now, necessary to give him everything that will ruin him in one straight punch then letting him get his hopes up before crashing it all down. She should have told him truthfully the first time around, but even an entity like her made mistakes. Thinking he could heal before the truth came out ( but when was he ever that luck? ). “74 years ago, an apocalypse occurred to your world. One much worse than Thanos or anything they’ve faced. Absolutely horrible without any escape. You were fighting alongside me in war, but behind your back I retrieved your body in order to send you to a safe world. I couldn’t care enough to get everyone else, it would be too much of a bother and risky. You were tagged as mine so I had some leeway and made a few deals. That’s how you got into this world. And this world is pretty similar, had the whole time perception alteration going on, and ideal to keep you in for the time being.” She informed him coldly. A normal person would get enraged, would scream at her for telling them that she couldn’t bothered with the people they cared for. But this was Ryujin, and Ryujin knew Death. He knew how she worked, knew that she could never care so much for those around him. It wasn’t the first something like this happened, but it was never to this scale. And he’s tired, exhausted. He just came back from another world leaving someone he had grown to love, then he came back trying to see how he could fix himself and with bits of hope—only to be told all...that. All he could say was— “You got the Demon’s Venom ready? I don’t think I want to go back soon.” Translation: Congratulations, you’ve broken me again now let me pretend I’m drunk. Let me forget, play along and let me cry for everything I’ve lost. Let me hate you for keeping me alive still. And let me blame it all on myself in the end, I’m too tired to be bitter about something else. Sharp eyes caught his lifeless ones, and with a wave she seemed to produce the bottle of alcohol out of nowhere. She handed it to him as he proceeded to drink ‘til he dropped ( but he never would ). She’s the only one to see him break down in that moment, protecting his moonshine bottle as he broke everything else. She answered every question he had on the lost souls gone to him, and at times she’d snidely remark about what of the people he met today? “They’d disappear one day too.” The truth was a painful concept. Death liked to shower him in white lies but it all broke in the end as the truth revealed itself. His life was of tragedy, but they both knew it was still to amuse Death. Even if he broke a million times in front of her, she would only be a little bit sad because it made him hate her more. Selfish woman, but he was selfish too. Because she was his crutch in such moments, she was the only one he could dare tell everything. Because she’ll remember it all, knew it all, and she would never disappear from his life. Because he just wanted something constant in his life. It took ages, but when he returned it would have only been awhile. And when he returned, it’ll be with a smile on his face and an air of nonchalance. A broken white lie of who he really was.

#threads. | if you love me do end me.#solo. | broken white lies.#hq:earth616 #( before i cant post this shit anymore lol )

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