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st4rrth0ughts · 3 months

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Ok I know I said I’m taking a break but I’m going to just dump this idea and expand on it soon, warnings below

Reader is aven’s bodyguard, mentions of dead body, death, a bit of a word vomit, and a sfw brainrot (I know, shocking, Im writing on the train anyways) probably ooc aven? Prodding at the hsr 2.1 leaks (if ykyk), I’m not in my computer so no more yellow text T-T

Aventurine peeking into your dreams through that phone in the Penacony dreamscape, only to see you, his precious bodyguard, always so stoic and unemotional, breathing hard, in the ‘real’ dreamscape, desperately yelling his name.

but the feelings of happiness, the feeling that he was important to someone, goes away the moment he sees you mortified, staring at his dead body. He wants to just jump into the dream, hold you and tell you it’s alright, seeing the look of panic, desperation and pure agony in your eyes makes his heart shatter. He would never make you cry, and he certainly wouldn’t want to in your own dream, where it’s supposed to be relaxing.

nothing much he can do about it when he stares at the dream playing out in shock, when your begging, begging for him to wake up, praying to the Amber Lord himself that this dammed nightmare would end soon, and that you would see him alive and well again.

Aventurine has never known how to receive from anyone. All his life, it was him giving, since childhood to his current age as Senior Manager of the IPC. The fact you, on a daily basis, already sacrifice so much for him, your time, freedom, even your own safety, bearing cuts, wounds while Aventurine remains perfectly unharmed was a foreign concept he still struggles to comprehend.

the fact that in a dream state, where your supposed to be happy, thinking about something else, no, even in your dream, it revolves around him. As much as he wanted to be smug and shit and be proud he was the main priority in your life, seeing you quietly sob as you hold the dead body of his doesn’t sit right with him. Never in 700 years. (See what I did there)

the dream ends, and the caller cuts off the call before he can even say anything. He walks aimlessly through Penacony, the dream replaying in his mind.

You crying. You holding him close. Of course, close contact wasn’t exactly unheard of between you two, you always did keep a eye on him, mostly during gambling sessions because of jealous competittors, he can’t count the number of times you pounced on someone for trying to attack him, but to be still cannot wrap his head around the fact that he was so important to you that he was quite literally on your mind even unconscious.

He hears footsteps, and your just right behind him. He always questions and teases you about how fast you can clear up your appearance after it gets disheveled, but he doesn’t say anything as he stares at your slightly trembling hands.

“Apologies for being late, sir. I was caught up in the dreamscape.”

Stop apologising, he wants to yell. You just had one of the most horrific nightmares in your life and your apologising for being late?! He grabs you and pulls you close. Sometimes he wishes he was taller so he could bury you in his chest and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, but feeling your chest in his face isn’t that bad either.

“I’m staying here. I won’t leave you, never did and never will.”

You run your hands through his hair. It’s not just the nightmare, it was the fact you were trying to find him, and overheard his plan to be a sacrifice to reveal The Family’s secrets to the universe. But you can’t tell him that for now, he’ll be sure to make changes so that you can’t interfere and be a self sacrificing idiot (as he puts it).

So you simply nod, thank the Amber Lord that you have those sunglasses that hide your bloodshot eyes as you let yourself be consumed by his lie of forever.

“Likewise, sir.”

#dom male reader #dom reader #dom gn reader #sub character #sub honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #star rail aventurine #sub aventurine #hsr leaks #hsr spoilers #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader

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localkiss · 1 month

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Screaming for attention!

manipulative brothers best friend re4!leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!! Mentions of past grooming by leon, age gap(~8 yrs), manipulation, guilt, dirty talk, p in v, afab reader, noncon creampie, slight anal/talks of anal, codependency, slapping, daddy kink, pet names, depressed thoughts in the beginning, chubby/thicker reader, manhandling, praise kink, degradation kink, talks of pregnancy (just a bit), oral (f receiving), virginity talk, controlling leon, obsessed leon, slight size kink if u squint!

note: hhh... read the warning lol before you comment. I was going to put more of leon being so fucking weird but erm, decided not to. not proof read btw!! but i do want to say i am a victim of SA and i used to heavily think about him and wished that he went further. lol idc what people say, i still struggle thinking like that, but ik it's wrong. so yes that's what this fic is loosely based on -_-

wc: 3.1k! tags: @rigorwhoring, @argreion, @xoxostarlet, @fairry1 bc I love u all :33!

Maybe it's for the best. No more surprises. This is nothing new. All you can hear is deafening silence, swallowing you up in a warm cocoon, suffocating you like a million years of guilt and thousands of weights on your throat and chest.

You can't help but wish he had done more. Maybe he would've if he could see your thoughts. Maybe he would've stayed.

But those sleeping pills really did a number on your body. You tried to overdose on everything you could, even your antidepressants. Yeah, it was dumb. But it was all just killing you from the inside anyway.

All you can do now is just sob violently into your pillows. Claw at the sheets and at your scalp, so pathetically. No wonder he chose you. So fucking easy to manipulate, to knead into someone he can use. No wonder he said he only loved you like a friend after he finally got caught in the act.

Whatever it was that he said, you can't remember exactly. You just tuned him out. White noise oozing into your eardrums like water does when you stand underneath the showerhead. He didn't apologize. Didn't explain. Didn't even try to. All you did was cry and plead for him to stay.

"Please don't leave me, Leon. Please, I can't live without you! I love you! Please!" You sobbed into the phone because, yeah, he broke up with you over text. It's not like you guys were even in a relationship. The age gap was too big and illegal to even be considered a real relationship.

You knew he was so much older than you. Liked it. Knew it was wrong, yet went forward with it. He should've stopped it. Should've. But he didn't, though.

You still love him deep down in your heart. He was your first love. First 'boyfriend'. First person to grope your body. You asked for a kiss, and he pressed his chapped lips against your forehead. He asked you for ass pictures, and you gladly sent them. Giggling happily whenever he complimented you and your body.

He's still your ideal type. A cuddly, tall, muscular brunette.

You wish you could stop yourself from comparing every guy to him or hoping they won't end up like him. Using you and throwing you away as soon as they got what they wanted.

But, now that you're legal, he reached out to you. Said some nonsense to try and get back into your heart. You didn't even care what he said. Just wanted to feel alive, to feel loved, and to be loved again. Even if it meant being loved by your abuser, you would let him drag you through hell and back if it meant he would love you like he did in the past. If it meant you could feel happy, free, and weightless again, you would march into hell with him.

As messed up as you are, you would do anything to make him stay. So that you can feel full again. Happy again.

"Wish you would've taken all of my firsts," you pouted as he pulled away from your lips. Swollen and red, so pretty.

Leon grinned and raised an eyebrow at your statement. "Really, baby girl? Damn," he bites on his lower lip, and his thumb brushes across the apples of your cheeks.

Taking in the way you look different but still the same as you were years ago, just a bit fuller in your hips, thighs, and stomach, he remembers when he gripped your thigh with both of his hands. Couldn't even manage to grab ahold of all of the fat. A few inches away from completely grabbing your thigh with both hands.

Now, he probably couldn't even make it so that there were a few inches between his hands; it would be a bit of a distance. That's how much you've grown width-wise. Length wise, you haven't really grown much.

"Yeah, daddy," you preen under his attention, shifting your weight from your heels to your toes, and back down flat on the floor. "I mean it."

He lets out a soft chuckle, and his calloused hands softly grab onto your shoulders, rubbing small circles into the fabric of your shirt. "Wish I could've taken all of your first too, baby. I know I would've made it all special for you. For my special girl." Leon coos, his head dipping down to lick into your mouth.

Hot spit trickles down the back of your throat and onto your chin. Making you squeeze your doughy thighs together, moaning as his hands squeeze down to your ass. Pressing you up against his built body. His hard-on throbbing against the confines of his skinny jeans, onto your soft, pudgy tummy.

He groans as you tug at the hair on the back of his head. Pulling back and squishing your cheeks together, and then tapping your face as you try to press your lips on his. His blue eyes darken as you moan when his hand makes contact with your face.

"Fuck," he grips onto your chin, forcing your mouth open to let a wad of spit hit the edge of your tongue, letting it slide down into your tummy. "Daddy knew you'd like that. I've got a slutty little princess, huh?"

It's a rhetorical question, but you answer with a few quick nods.

"Yeah, daddy, I'm your slutty little princess." Always so quick to repeat what he said. What he drilled into your brain years ago obviously holds up. You still want to make him happy, even if he ruined you for anyone else. Ruined you for life.

The corners of his lips quirk upwards, his hands giving your ass a quick squeeze before he pushes you down into the bed. He climbs on top of you like a hungry animal, licking his lips at the sight of his prey.

A whine escapes from your throat at the sight. He's gotten even more attractive and bigger, and it's making your brain all mushy. Shooting directly down to your core, feeling it gush out slick onto the gussets of your panties.

You lick your lips and wrap your legs around his hips. "Please, Leon."

He lets out a low growl, his veiny forearms coming up by the sides of your head. Firmly planting them on the mattress as he rocks his hips into yours. His bangs fall into your face as he teasingly grazes his lips against yours. Panting hotly against your lips.

"Relax, baby," is all he says before he moves his mouth, making a wet trail from the corner of your lips down to your jawline.

"Let me love you." Leon murmurs into your skin as he sucks a hickey underneath your ear, making you gasp and squirm beneath him.

You become pliable, easy to bend, and easy to please. Brain too foggy to clearly think straight. Leon's marking up your neck like you'll try to run away from him. It's like you're his property now. God, you've always been his, ever since that fateful day, right?

Just a few words, and he can do whatever he wants with your body. Maybe one day you'll let him take your first time with your other hole. Who knows.

"So pretty, fuck," his tongue dips between the valley of your breasts, hands grasping at your shirt to push it up, exposing you to his hungry eyes. His knee slots between your thighs, making you squeak and squeeze his leg involuntarily. Pressing your tits together to swipe his tongue across your perky nipples.

Bathing your tits in his spit, he suckles on them like a madman. Enjoying the way you mewl and gasp, using his teeth to draw out more noises from you. Obsessed with every single part of you, even the not-so-pretty parts. He has you mapped out in his mind, his sweet, supple princess.

"Has anyone ever eaten you out?" Kissing your areolas, soothing the small bite marks he left. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, brows furrowed in concentration. He's doting on you like it's the last time he'll ever see you again.

"No," you say, pressing your lips together in a flat line. Feeling your stomach tighten up with butterflies and hints of nausea.

Leon likes that. So much so that he smiles into your stomach, softly gnawing on the pudge around your belly button, earning some soft squeals and pats to try and push him away. He wants to make you crumble under him, submit to him, and never leave. Never want another man. Always comparing someone to him, wishing they did it like him. He wants to plague your mind and control you from the inside out.

He wants to tie you up in his bedroom and never let you leave. Live your own life? No. Leon wants to drill it into your brain and body that he owns you, no thoughts about anything else but him and his body.

He pulls down your shorts and panties in one go, watching the string of your arousal stick to the gussets of your panties. His large hands pry open your legs, pushing them up to your chest and holding them down with his weight.

"Remember this," he spits onto your pussy, watching it swim down to your holes. Squeezing your legs when you squirm a little too much for his taste, deciding to spit once more to make sure you'll have his DNA in you for the next couple of days.

Pressing chaste kisses on your clit because he knows it'll make your mind go all fuzzy and only think of Leon, Leon, Leon. And how good he's making you feel. Nobody else but him.

He dips his tongue between your folds and begins to languidly make out with it. Thrusting his tongue and swirling it upwards as his upper lip continues to make contact with your clit. Drawing out all sorts of pathetically cute noises from you.

Wishing he was recording this so he could show it to his friends and brag about how he has molded you to be his perfect girl. You're not a woman until he fucks a baby into you.

"You like that?" He suckles on your clit and gently bites down on it. Watching the way your face crinkles up and how you squeeze your eyes shut. Everything you do amuses him.

"Daddy, mmh... god, yes!" You grasp the sheets as you feel a warm, fuzzy feeling in your lower abdomen. Toes curling as Leon fucks his tongue into your drippy hole.

He shakes his head, pressing his nose into your sensitive bundle of nerves, trying to get you to cum quickly.

Your hands desperately try to reach for Leon for comfort as you stumble into an orgasm. "Daddy... Mmphh—fuck!"

Legs kicking out and vibrating as he coaxes you through your orgasm. Slowly swiping his tongue through your folds to slurp up all of your cum, he presses soft kisses all around your pussy. "Such a good girl," he sighs.

Leon spreads your legs, kissing his way up to your face. He licks his way into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue and gulp down some of his saliva. "So easy." He puts his hand on your neck, lightly applying pressure as he goes back in for more kisses. Make sure you never leave this cloudy state of mind, so he can do whatever he pleases with you.

"Maybe I can even eat you out here," he says, letting his hand wander down to your asshole and lightly tracing the rim of it. Feeling you tense up brings a sly smile to his face. "No? Okay. Maybe next time." He chuckles and pulls back to unbuckle his jeans.

Slowly undoing his belt and putting it next to you on the bed. Unzipping his fly as he makes direct eye contact with you the entire time. He makes you gulp nervously as he finally pushes his jeans down his muscular thighs.

Your eyes immediately jump to his hard-on. How does he even keep that thing in there? It's begging to be freed, and quite frankly, you want to run away out of nerves, not believing his cock can even fit inside of you! What the fuck did Leon even eat for it to even have grown that big and thick?

Leon sees the cogwheels turning in your head as he steps out of his pants. With each step he takes, it bounces against the slightly stained, striped fabric. "Baby, don't be so nervous. It'll be alright." His voice is soothing and convincing, almost hypnotic in the way it makes your body buzz and your mind go blank.

It is a bit terrifying to think about the effect he honestly has on you, your mind, body, and soul.

"Are you on the pill?" He asks, although he already knows the answer.

"No, I'm not." You mumble shyly. Embarrassed to not be on some sort of birth control.

Leon reaches down for his wallet and pulls out a condom. "Good thing I always come prepared, huh?" Chuckles as he pulls down his briefs, stepping out of them as he tears open the condom packaging. He slipped it on his drippy and flushed tip, sliding all the way down to the base.

Slowly kneeling on the bed to lead his dick to your hole. Sliding through your folds to gather more fluids to make the first push easier on you.

"Ready?" He grunts as he teases you by tapping himself on your swollen clit.

"Uhuh, 'm ready," you whine as he slowly eases himself into your pussy.

Moaning as you helplessly flutter and tighten around his shaft. Watching your face carefully as you scrunch and tense up. Stopping halfway and grabbing ahold of your hand, his other one grips the fat of your hip so tight it'll leave a bruise the next day.

"Almost there, baby girl, doing so well for me," he presses a soft kiss to your forehead as he drives more of himself deep inside of you.

You look down at your stomach and tighten around him as you notice the bulge from his cock being so big and deep inside of you. His tip is brushing against the opening of your womb.

"Nnh, Leon, too big," you gasp as he rolls his hips against yours. Legs squeezing against his waist as he slowly starts to thrust shallowly.

"Baby, relax. Can barely pull out of you," Leon rasps in your ear, sending chills down your spine as you try to force yourself to relax around him.

"Mnmph, sorry, Daddy. Please—" you pout, squeezing his hand tightly. Trying to signal for him to start pounding your needy cunt already.

He nibbles on your earlobe, slowly shifting his hips to thrust in and out of you properly. Soft plap, plap, plap, of his body hitting yours, making sure that he hits your g-spot.

You swallow a whine as he lets go of your hip to lazily rub his thumb on your swollen little button. Hearing the way your breath hitches and seeing the slight curve in your spine makes all his administrations worth it. Slowly speeding up his movements as he squeezes your hand, groaning low in his throat when you clench around him tightly like a vice.

"Tight cunt all f'me," he thrusts harder and harder, making it difficult to keep quiet. Soft punched-out cries leave your lips alongside Daddy, Daddy, Daddy's. "Fuck, daddy's gonna make you cum so hard around his cock, might even make you scream."

Leon slowly pushes your legs up, putting you into a mating press as he drives himself deeper into you. Fucking into your womb, which craves his thick cum. Ecstatic with the idea of 'accidentally' slipping the condom off and cumming deep in your womb. Get you pregnant and finally be his woman.

"God, wanna get you pregnant so bad, baby," he pants, bangs falling into your face with each harsh thrust. "Would take care of you and the baby. Mmhh shit—would suck the milk outta your fat leaky tits."

Drools into your mouth as he kisses you with fervor, teeth clashing as his dick continues to fill up your sloppy pussy.

"Leon, please, 'm so close," you hiccup as he vigorously rubs your clit in tight circles. Your legs brush up against his head as you feel that familiar warm coil in your stomach.

"Cum for me princess." Leon's eyes darken; pupil's swallowing up his iris as he watches you unfold before him. Because of him.

Your body tenses up and convulses with each swipe of his thumb on your sensitive nerves. Letting out a silent scream, your eyes close tightly as you try to hold onto Leon as best as you can, feeling his hot breath on your kissed, swollen lips. His fat cock is hitting all the right spots, almost painfully good as he fucks you deeply. Constantly pressing up against your womb, making your toes curl.

Slowly rutting through your orgasm, he feels his own start to creep up on him. "Fuck, hold on, baby. Gonna pull out for a sec," he pants, pulls out of your heat, and discreetly pulls off the condom, letting it fall on his jeans.

He quickly puts it back in before you can notice, giving you a spine-chilling smile. Giving you a few pecks on your lips and on your forehead as he uses you like a fleshlight now.

Letting out soft whimpers and moans, he puts his head on your shoulder. The sounds of sex are his favorite sounds. Your crying is his favorite sound in the entire world. Nothing can top you crying out for him while moaning like a total slut.

"So fucking hot, Jesus Christ," he groans, hips rabbiting into your pussy. Your insides are so warm and so wet, he feels like it's the first time he's going raw ever. Orgasm on the fence with each thrust. That and you're making all these noises, it's hard for him to concentrate on not cumming so fast.

"G'nna cum, babe, holy fuck—" He lifts his head off of your shoulder and kisses you feverishly, spitting deep into your throat. Putting his forehead on yours, his nose touches yours as he grunts, pumping his cum into your pussy. Sticky white ropes straight into your womb.

Panting and whimpering as his cock slowly ruts into your messy cunt. "Fuck... So good," he chuckles lightheartedly.

Your pussy quivers around his shaft as it softens up. It feels so hot and sticky, and your mind is too fuzzy to even process that he came inside. A dumbfounded smile plastered on your flushed pink face makes his heart swell up.

"Such a good girl. My good girl, right?" Leon nuzzles his nose against yours. Driving the fact that you'll always be his. Even if you move across the country, he'll always follow. Always in your shadow.

"Uhuh," you respond shyly, giggling at the affection he's giving you. His eyes soften up, and you take in his face. The light stubble, small acne scars, and the way his hair is fading from dirty blonde to brown. "always, daddy."

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil smut #leon smut #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #leon resident evil #re4 leon #re4r leon #leon scott kennedy #localkiss

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lostgirlmuseum · 9 months

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Give Me A Sign

Made with photos from Pinterest ^

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: Bucky asks the universe for a reason to live. The universe delivers you.

Warnings: HUGE WARNING, please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable! Heavy suicidal ideation, but happy ending. Please be very careful in considering if this is triggering for you. It won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t read, your mental health and safety comes first.

A/N: I’m really sorry if this isn’t great, I wanted to do more but I kept getting stuck, and tbh I just want to post it as is instead of stress about it.

(Dividers from @saradika)

The air was unusually crisp the night Bucky snuck into the gardens of Cornelia Park. He had a faint memory of visiting once, in another century, with Steve. But that was then, and this is now. Now, Steve is dead. Bucky feels the weight of his entire history on his scarred shoulders. He feels out of place in such a green and flourishing area of flora. It’s wrong for him to be among such a place of peace and beauty, he finds it almost funny. Almost.

He followed the path of lavenders into the private area of the park, surrounded by tall hedges. At the center stood an old stone statue, one he remembered from the last time he visited. Only now it looked much more worn and weathered. The statue was of an angel, a woman with wings. Her eyes were kind, her features soft, despite the stone. She held her arms out, one hand holding a lantern, the other beckoning him to hold. Instead, Bucky sat on the bench in front of her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, apologizing for his very presence. He dropped his head into his hands.

And then he started crying. And his cries evolved to sobbing. He let himself cry, a privilege he rarely allowed himself. He let the tears flow, and they didn’t stop for what felt like hours. After forcing himself to pull himself together, he wiped his final tears from his cheeks and looked up to the black sky.

“Give me a sign, God.” His voice wavered.

“If you’re real, give me a sign to keep going. I’ve been at this a really long time. Just gimme— gimme a sign to keep going. That it will be worth it. Because life feels pretty damn bleak. And I know I should keep going, but I…”

The words wouldn’t come.

“I… fuck.” He looked back down at his hands. He thought about how much he hated those hands. He thought about how he wished he could wash the memories from his head like he does the blood from his palms, and how he wished he wasn’t Bucky Barnes. He thought about how he wished he had died at the bottom of that cliff, and how everyone would be better off if—

“Hello?”

A small voice shook him from his thoughts. He hadn’t even heard someone approach. But there you were, standing in the entrance of the hedge garden.

“Oh, hi,” you smiled, once you saw him. At least he thinks you smiled. It was hard for him to see you in the shadows.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologized, once he realized he hadn’t said anything yet. He had just stared. He looked away from you and back at his lap.

“No need to be sorry,” you said, walking up to the bench he sat on, “I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”

He didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what to say. He too thought he was the only person there.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” You kindly asked, wrapping your white cardigan a bit tighter.

That was when he looked up and saw your face in the light of the lantern for the first time. The first thing he thought was that you looked like you belonged there in the garden, unlike him. You could replace the angel statue, and its meaning would stay the same.

“Go ahead,” he simply said. Although what he really thought was to warn you. Are you sure you want to sit next to him?

You took your place on the bench silently. Neither of you spoke for the first couple minutes. Bucky tried to focus on the sound of crickets, and the lack of traffic.

He wasn’t sure why he stayed. If anything, his first thought should be to get up, walk away, escape. But he didn’t.

“My name is Y/N.” You softly said.

Stunned by your confession, he let his guard down.

“Bucky.” He half whispered back.

You simply hummed in response.

He could sense your gaze on him. It wasn’t malicious or judgemental; it felt curious and gentle.

“Are you okay?”

His throat started to constrict again. He didn’t like that question, because he didn’t like the answer. He knows he’s not okay. But he doesn’t know how to say it. After struggling for a response for many seconds, he conceded to shaking his head softly. No.

“I hope it gets easier soon.”

He felt the dam begin to break again.

“It will get better someday,” you continued, “maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, or month, but someday it will get better.”

“How can you be so sure?” He choked.

“Life is like a pendulum, have you ever heard that before?”

“No.”

“Well, it is. Right now you’re swinging into the bad, but eventually you’re gonna swing right back into the good. It’s just physics. And it sucks in a way, because what’s the point of swinging into the light if it’s just gonna cast that shadow you’ll fall back into? But it’s also comforting to me, because I know as long as I keep pushing, I’ll end up on the other side.”

Bucky let your words ring in his ears. He didn’t know why he felt the urge to open up to you, but he did.

“I just keep asking myself why should I stay?”

“The trick is to find a new reason when you can. I think of one everyday.”

“What’s yours?”

“Today?” You sighed and looked up at the stars. “I want to see the next snow.”

“That won’t be for months,” he said.

“Guess I’ll have to stick around then.” You gave a knowing smile.

“What should mine be?”

He knew there should be a million things, but they were all just out of reach of his mind.

“That’s up to you.”

Bucky didn’t say it, but he quickly came up with his reason to stay.

You.

He told himself that he had to see you again.

Bucky went back the next night. And the next. And he kept going back, because you met him every night for a week until you finally asked him if he wanted to meet you for lunch. That was the start of your relationship. Soon enough Sam started asking where Bucky had gone so often. He wasn’t in his room all day anymore, and he seemed lighter. He wasn’t ‘fixed’, obviously, but he was better. It started to get easier to breathe.

The pendulum had begun to swing in Bucky’s favor, and it stayed that way for months. He still had his days, as did you, but you were happy together. You supported each other.

And then came a very tough week.

The anniversary of Steve’s death.

The wound had reopened, and Bucky spiraled. He was a mess, a total mess, and you were there to comfort him.

But your kindness reminded him of Steve, and how he wasn’t enough for him. If Bucky was good enough for Steve, he wouldn’t have left, right?

Although Bucky knew you wouldn’t leave him. That was the problem. He was an anchor, and you held on.

For your own good, he convinced himself he had to let go, if you wouldn’t.

The absence of warmth next to you woke you up.

“Bucky?” You whispered. The clock blinked 4:13 A.M.

No reply. You figured maybe he was sleeping on the couch, so you carefully sat up and waited a couple seconds before letting your bare feet touch the cold ground. Pulling your robe on from where it had fallen on the floor, you wiped the sleep from your eyes and padded over to the living room.

It was dark, and your eyes were still adjusting, but you could tell that he wasn’t there. You felt the rise of panic in your chest just before you spotted him standing on the balcony.

He didn’t turn around to look at you as the door slid open and shut. He remained staring over the ledge at some unknown point.

“Hey, honey,” you whisper, your voice hoarse, as you walk up behind him and wrap your arms around him, giving him a big hug.

You hear his whimper before you feel his body shake.

“Y/N, I—”

“What’s wrong honey?” You quickly let go, turning him to face you. You notice his puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. His cheeks were rosy; you could tell he had been crying for a while.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t look you in the eyes.

“Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry for everything.” He starts. “I’m too much. I don’t deserve you, you deserve someone easier. Someone better, someone— someone good.”

“But I love you, and you are good. Bucky, where is this coming from?” The concern was thick in your voice. Sure, he had been a little down lately, but nothing alerted you to this level of distress.

“Sweetheart, all I do is bring hardship into your life. You deserve to live,” he looks into your eyes earnestly, “I know I shackle you to me. I know you give up things to be with me. But you don’t have to anymore. I’m letting you free.”

You hold back a shiver.

“What are you talking about? I want to be with you. You’re scaring me.”

“It’s not fair that I’ve lived this long, and it’s not fair that I’m dragging you down with me. I’m a fucking burden, Y/N. At first to Steve, then Sam, and now you. I can’t keep adding to the list of lives I ruin.”

“Honey, listen to me. I need you to take a deep breath.” You place your hand on his bicep, and try to speak with an appropriate mix of confidence and compassion.

“I’m doing it now!” He shakes his head vigorously, wiping away his tears as if evidence that he’s stopped crying will convince you to go. “You should be sleeping, please go back to sleep. You shouldn’t have to watch over me and make me feel better.”

“How long have you been feeling this way?” You whisper, fearing that if you spoke any louder your voice would break with your heart.

He took a while to answer, biting his lip and looking around before finally responding.

“Do you remember when we first met? In the garden?” He looks at you, eyebrows drawn. As if you could actually forget. You nod.

“I wanted to—” his voice breaks and he looks down— “I went… I was thinking about—” it cracks again, and his throat is constricting itself around the words he can’t say. “I was thinking I was really going to do it. I had basically decided. And then right as I was asking God for one more chance, one reason to stay alive—you appeared. I thought God sent me an Angel. A real Angel.” His eyes sparkle before dimming again. “I tarnish you. You waste your goodness on me, and the world needs it more.”

You don’t like where this is going. You know you need to reel him back in, and fast.

“Look at me, Bucky Barnes. Look at me.” You grab his face firmly and make sure he’s seeing you.

“I’m a burden.” He crumbles.

“Then be my burden!” You cry. “I want you to be my burden. Maybe without you, my life would be ‘easier.’ But I don’t want it to be if it means a life without you.” You search his blue watery eyes, wiping a tear that starts to leak from one. “I don’t fucking choose ‘easier.’ I choose you, Bucky. My choice is to be with the love of my life. And if that means skipping a couple hours of sleep to comfort you, and staying in on weekends, and crying with you, that doesn’t change the fact that I am the luckiest person on Earth. This is my choice too, Bucky. Do you hear me?” You place your hands on both of his arms.

He closes his eyes, takes a shaky breath, and nods.

“I choose you.”

He nods again, and bites his bottom lip.

“I choose you.” You repeat, not once looking away from him.

He whimpers.

“Say it. Can you say it, please?” You don’t want to push him, but you need to know that your point has been made clear.

“You choose me.” He whispers, before falling into your embrace, and tucking his head into your neck.

“I do. I really do.” You say, holding back your own tears as you rub his back.

“I’m sorry.”

You know telling him he has nothing to be sorry for won’t work, so you instead answer by agreeing.

“Me too. I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way. I’m sorry you struggle to see how much I need you, too. But we are going to be okay, okay?”

He sobs harder, holding you tighter. You feel his warm tears start to stain your shirt under the thin robe. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you hum.

“Don’t leave me,”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You promise, bringing one hand up to the nape of his neck and start gently playing with his hair. “Are you ready to go back inside? Do you want to lay down with me?”

Without pulling away from you, he nods. You wait for him to let go of you before going to grab his hand and leading him to the bed, but he stops you. Instead of letting you show him the way, he decides to pick you up bridal style and carry you to your room, knowing he couldn’t wait until laying down to have your body pressed against his.

Once you were both settled under the cozy blankets, your bodies facing each other, his head on your chest and your hand rubbing his back in circular motions, he spoke drowsily, exhausted from his breakdown.

“I love you.” He mumbled.

“And I love you,” You cooed, placing a small kiss on his forehead before drifting off into your dreamless sleeps.

A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. I know life can be a fucking shit show, but please stay alive. If you know someone who is struggling, consider reaching out to them. And if you yourself are struggling, please reach out to someone. And if you feel like there is no one to talk to, my asks/dms are open. You are not alone.

I don’t want anyone to read this fic and their takeaway is that if they have no partner, they are on their own. I choose you. Do you hear me? I choose you, and I implore you to choose yourself. Stay alive for yourself. Be spiteful against your depression. And if you’re one of those people who can’t help but say “I hate you,” to the mirror, and feel like you mean it, know that there is hope for you too. Because I was once that person. And with help, and time, I am able to say that I don’t hate myself. I can look in the mirror and appreciate who I am. Of course I still have my moments, but my point is that if you told me when I was at my lowest, that I’d one day be able to say “I love you” to the mirror without bursting out in tears, I’d call you a liar.

(Sorry for making this A/N so long, hopefully someone can find comfort in it. I’m still here. And you should be too.)

#bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n

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semisolidmind · 3 months

Note

What happens when they outlive angel? Since poppy was first created in the 50’s it seems like being preserved as toys has granted them longer lifespans if not technical immortality, so angel aging is going to become a problem sooner or later, and I’m kinda wondering what happens when the inevitable comes. I made myself sad thinking about this and now all of you will be too, suffer with me

(i was thinking about this as well, uuuugghhhh)

it's so so sad. what will the toys do without their one advocate, the one person who truly understands them and what they represent? when the one good home they've ever had is gone, they've got nowhere else to go.

so, they stay.

when y/n dies, the toys have a quiet burial for them in their backyard, under a big shady tree. they make a simple marker from rocks, and pick wildflowers nearby to lay on the grave. none of them speak. it was hard enough digging the grave, and unbearably difficult to lay their savior to rest.

the house is horribly quiet afterwards.

poppy is likely the strong one throughout all this. she's had the most experience saying goodbye to people she cares about (thanks to her longevity), and she attempts to maintain a sense of optimism about it all. they'll all be ok, she's sure of it. they'll find their way through this, like always. it's what y/n would have wanted. kissy withdraws into herself further, following poppy's lead and trying not to cry.

dogday is devastated. devastated beyond all measure. he was the one to discover y/n when they passed. they were so pale, he could feel their warmth leaving them. their face looked so peaceful, they looked like they had just fallen asleep. he knew it was coming, they were getting older, but—but it's still not fair. it doesn't feel real. it can't be, his angel can't be dead, nothing has ever kept them down before, they always get back up, why couldn't they get back up—

...he tries to stay calm.

he took on the duty of grave digging. he took on the heavy burden of laying his beloved angel into the makeshift coffin they were able to cobble together. he could barely keep it together when he did. he managed, but not without crying.

that night, he waits until the girls have gone to bed before he closes himself off in y/n's bedroom. in the privacy of the once-shared space, dogday allows the truly desperate, heaving sobs he's been keeping in to finally leave his chest. tears mat down the fur on his face as he cries. he shakily grasps y/n's jacket to himself, wishing that there was some way, any way, that they could come back to him. he knows humans aren't meant to live forever. but that doesn't stop him from wishing that y/n could achieve the tentative immortality that the toys have, if only so that they could stay with him.

dogday becomes somber after his angel dies. they were his source of hope, his reason for living. they saved his life in ways beyond just physical. they were the only reason he was alive at all. without them, he's...he's not sure if he wants to keep going.

but he must. he knows he has to. y/n would want him to take care of the others, they'd want him to protect and provide for them. so, without any other purpose...that's what he does.

the toys live in their savior's house for as long as they're able. it's just their luck that the house is never put up for sale, that it's just sort of...forgotten about. it becomes a "haunted house in the woods," feared and avoided. they're more than happy to become the vague, cryptic monsters in local legends if it means that they're left alone.

nobody will come by to check on y/n for a while, and the toys will have power and food (their water comes from a well hooked up to the house) for at least a little while longer. and after that, they'll manage on what they can find in the woods.

they live as peacefully as they can for as long as they can.

#fr dogday may as well be a widower here #he and y/n werent married technically but they may as well have been #if this is canon dogday he goes completely hopeless after yn dies #but survivor dogday with his limbs intact would keep going and just get kinda bitter about everything

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emotionalsupportemoboys · 1 year

Text

SOMETHING TO LIVE FOR

Just an idea I wanted to get out of my head. A quick Dabi x F!Reader where he gets the (mostly) happy ending that he deserves, god damn it. I may expand on this at some point, we’ll see. Contains vague spoilers for chapter 390.

1.2k words

You’re watching the coverage and you see the moment when Touya’s badly charred body hits the ground. You were supposed to stay away, to remain in the flanks supporting the fight, but you book it to his location; Endeavor and all the others be damned.

The Todoroki family looks on in stunned silence as you drop to your knees beside him, crying his name and begging him not to die. He can’t see you, but he can hear you, and he croaks a single, pained word, “…Doll…”

Your heart shatters.

He was your world and you were watching it slowly slipping away.

You plead for him to hang on while searching for a place to lay your hands. Even in his fractured state of mind, he knows what you’re doing and he’s afraid that you might take a lethal toll on your body by using your quirk to heal him. It probably wouldn’t even be enough to save him, you were bitterly aware of that, but it wasn’t going to stop you.

“Don’t.”

“I have to try, Touya! I love you! I love you so much! Please don’t leave me!”

He knew this. You’d told him countless times before, but even so, he’s grateful that these are the last words he ever hears. Knowing that he was truly loved tempered the pain of failing to accomplish his goal. He just wished that he could stay to love you longer, to give you the normal life that you deserved.

You pour every ounce of yourself into keeping him alive and the chaos around you eventually fades to black.

. . .

It feels like everything is over in an instant.

His eyes flutter open and he briefly experiences the same sights and sounds from the battlefield before realizing that he was somewhere else; in a brightly lit, sterile room. He didn’t recognize this place, but you were sitting beside his hospital bed, fast asleep while upright in a folding chair.

He’s so relieved to see you that bloody tears well in his eyes before spilling over onto his cheeks. You looked different, healthy, and no longer war-torn. How much time had passed?

He’s not entirely sure what he’s expecting to see when he looks down at his hands, but the fact that he has both is startling enough. It takes some effort for him to move his tired body. He touches his face and finds smooth skin where scars and staples had once been. Was he dreaming? Was he dead?

He quickly decides that he didn’t mind either option, so long as he got to stay with you. He watches you sleep for what feels like an eternity before finally reaching over to take your hand.

You were solid. Real. Warm. Familiar.

“Doll?”

You wake to the sound of his hoarse voice and, for a second, you’re half convinced you must be hallucinating.

“Touya?” Your heart leaps inside your chest. You’d been praying for this moment for so long, having fantasized about it so many times that it almost didn’t seem real.

You throw yourself at him, pulling him into a fierce hug, which he reciprocates as best he can.

“Don’t cry, Doll,” he says softly while rubbing your back.

“You’re one to talk,” you sniffle, having noticed the crimson tears on his face. “Fuck, I love you so much, I’m so glad you’re awake.” You start sobbing in spite of yourself, “I missed you.”

He clears his throat, getting choked up as he squeezes you tighter, “I love you, too. More than anything.”

You enjoy each other’s company for a while, holding each other in comfortable silence, just as you always had. This man was your best friend, your lover, your fucking soul mate. You could have sat with him in silence until the end of time and it would have been more than enough just knowing that he was still breathing.

“How long was I out?” He asks quietly, expecting you to say a few weeks, or maybe a couple months.

You pull back to look at him wearing a sad smile, “Three years.”

“What!?” He blinks at you in shock.

You nod while squeezing his hand, “Just like Sekoto Peak.”

He probably shouldn’t have been surprised, it made sense considering his previous experience, though he was in much better shape this time around. His body looked damn near brand new, but he did still have some scarring on his torso, which would forever serve as a reminder of the pain and suffering he’d endured.

Over the course of the next few days, you explain how you’d found the best healers who’d survived the war to work on him. You also gently break the news about the villains losing and Endeavor still being alive, though he’d long since retired after issuing an apology to him and their family. You assure him that his efforts hadn’t been completely in vain, as society had made some changes for the better over the last three years, and the PLF was still working underground.

He takes his time processing all of this information, not quite sure how to feel. You help him through it, rarely leaving his side.

. . .

One week later, you walk into his room and sit on the bed to take his hand. He’d been doing well. You could see him slowly starting to envision a future for himself for the first time in years and you believed it was time to press forward.

“Touya, there’s someone very special who I want you to meet.”

He looks at you curiously, and with a bit of apprehension.

You smile fondly, “I think you’ll like him. He’s a lot like you.”

He narrows his eyes, but agrees to this meeting.

You step out and return a few minutes later carrying a small boy on your hip.

Touya knows as soon as he sees him.

His heart stops, his blood runs cold, and his stomach lurches. He tells himself that it couldn’t be possible, but there was no denying what was right in front of him, and the timeline added up.

“Mama!” The toddler says sweetly, beaming while tugging on the front of your shirt. He had a mop of white hair and big, beautiful blue eyes, just like his father.

He was the most precious and yet utterly terrifying little thing that Touya had ever encountered in his life. He stares at him in awe while fighting back tears.

You move to sit in the chair beside the bed and the boy suddenly takes notice of Touya. It’s rather endearing how the two gawk at each other.

“Touya, this is Seiko,” you say softly while ruffling his messy hair.

The look of pure love and devotion on your face as you gaze at your son—his son—makes his heart swell. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he struggles to keep his emotions in check.

“The Sweepy Man,” Seiko says while pointing at Touya. “Mama, he ‘wake.”

“Yes, baby. He was asleep for a long time, but he’s finally awake. Do you wanna say hi?”

Suddenly shy, Seiko hides his face against your neck before mustering the courage to peek at the so-called Sleepy Man, whom he’d been visiting every day since birth. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Touya’s voice cracks as a single crimson tear escapes from the corner of his eye, yet he finds himself smiling. “Hi, Seiko. I’m…I’m your dad.”

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he-goes-down · 5 months

Note

Idk if u do requests but can u do a rly good slash angst where maybe he says smth hiiigh n they get into argument and then make up sex

I DO REQUESTS DW BOOKIE

ILL TRY MY BEST I HAVENT DONE ANGST IN AGES

This is absolute dookie i apologize you can shoot me in the face with a bazooka if you wish

Masterlist

Love Lies

Pairing: Slash x reader

Warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected p in v and angst , argument, fighting, crying and mention of addiction

Second Person POV:

It had been weeks since you and Slash actually had a normal conversation or even done couple things. Since the realise of the album and the money racked in, he spent the money on drugs on booze and to town everyday, coming back home late and completely out of it. You were home alone most of the time, your quality time was gone. Any time together was gone.

It was 1 am. Again. You lied in bed, rubbing your fingers together. Nervousness. You tried to give him another chance and wait for him to return. You had enough of this waiting and stressing. You turned off the bedside light and turned on your side holding the covers with irritation.

3 am rolls around, you were in a sleeping, and anxious state. But it was finally getting to you being so tired that you could drift to sleep. As you drifted Slash had came in, drunk. Falling onto the bed, groaning and mumbling. You didn’t realise he was there until the bed creaked and he slumped an arm over your waist and tried pulling you closer. You groaned in annoyance and pushed his arm off you, shifting closer to the edge of the bed. He was confused, that drunken confusion turned into drunken anger. “Hey!” He shouted with a groggy groan. He tried to out his arms around you again but you pushed him off again with a-lot more irritation. “What the fuck is the problem?” He yelled. You quickly turned on the light next to your bed side and sat up to look at him. “Are you serious?” You asked with disgust. “The problem is you coming home every night at 3 am. Saul I don’t even see you during the day! At all!” You told him. Calling him Saul drove a stake through his heart and sobered him up real fast, you’d never call him that, and now he could see you were dead serious and angry. “But-…” “But fucking what? Hm? You need to be drinking so much? You need to be around all those girls 24/7? What happened to ‘your girl’?” You shut him up. He always called you his girl and showed you off to everyone he knew. But now it was like you were invisible and forgotten. “I’m… Sorry.” He sputtered. You just rolled your eyes and groaned a ‘mhm’. You got out of the bed, “I’m going to sleep on the couch. Night.” You said as you walked to the door. Slash speed and scrambled off the bed.

“No baby please…” He said as he grabbed you arm pulling you to stay. You tried to get your arm away from his grasp but he just didn’t let go. “Please.” He begged. Your eyes went from his hand that held you to his eyes. Sparkling with tears that were forming, his face laced with worry. “ I don’t want to hear it.” You said. But you wanted to, you wanted him to say sorry and everything go back to normal. But how would you know if it will turn back. “Please baby, I’m sorry.” He pleaded. Tears now falling down his cheeks. God you couldn’t do this when he cried. Fuck it broke you. You stopped struggling under his grasped and gave him a sincere look. You went to hug him and he hugged you back holding you tight. Crying into your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I don’t want you to leave me.” He sobbed. You were about to cry as-well, but still so much rage was filled in you. “I don’t want too either.” You told him. Thoughts were still spinning in your head as to if he’ll change. But you gave him that chance. “I love you honey.” You kissed his cheek getting out of the hug. You then told him how you still needed to cool down and that he needed to start doing something about his drinking and partying problems. You were going to walk out if the bedroom again, but Slash fell to his knees and began. “Baby please, I need you with me now.” He said, his eyes still watery.

“I’ll make it up to you, right now.” He said as he pleaded. You looked at him quizzically. “I’ll help you…” He began to speak again. His hands now on your legs trailing your thighs. “Cool down.” He finished and he began kissing your bare inner thighs and then your clothed area. You whined, you missed the feeling of him pleasing you. This was definitely making up for it. He looked up at you, his fingers moving away the fabric of your short pyjama pants, and feeling your already wet cunt. “Oh god fuck.” You moaned as he slowly entered your pussy with his two thick fingers. Stretching you out as he watched your head fling back with lust. He began to pump in and out of you. Curling his fingers and pressing against your sweet spot, making your stomach turn and legs buckled. He smirked as he watched you moan his name. He pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine, and pushed you onto the bed. Spreading your legs and pulling your pants down with one swift move. Then putting your legs over his shoulders and planting his face onto your pussy. Kissing and licking your pussy. “Fuck-… Slash…” you moaned and tangled your fingers in his hair. Slash sucked on your clit as he put his fingers back into you. Finger fucking you whilst your wet coated his fingers and dripped down his big hand. You clenched around his fingers as his tongue flicked your clit, making you writhe under him as the burning feeling in the pit of your stomach grew stronger. “Oh fuck!” Your head flew back onto the bed as you came all over his fingers and moaned curses. He pulled out his dripping fingers and licked them, getting every last drop of you in his mouth. You sighed as he now crawled on top of you, kissing your passionately. Tasting yourself as his tongue found his way into your mouth. His hips grinding against yours, feeling his big hard on against your bare cunt. “Slash… please…” you begged against his mouth. Now it was your turn to plead for him. “What is it baby?” He asked as his kiss went to attack you neck. “Fuck me.” You said. You hadn’t had his dick in you in ages and your body was begging for him. “Anything you say doll.” He told you. Taking off his clothes and tossing it to the floor before positioning himself at your aching pussy. His dick was bigger than you had remembered, you whimpered at the sight of it. He slowly penetrating you and stretching your pussy out even more. “Fuck, I love you…” he groaned as you clenched tightly around him. His head slumping in the crook of your neck. His hands held your legs pushing it back into you to get the right angle to pound into you. You moaned as he bottomed out. He pulled out swiftly and pushed back into you, hips snapping and a loud slap echoed. You screamed as he perfectly hit your g spot, making you cry with pleasure. He groaned with each thrust into you, god he could cry again, just thinking that he would have lost this from his recklessness, how could he have ever gave you up. You were so perfect in his mind. You were his and he was showing the neighbours just how much you belonged to him. You moaned loudly with each deep and fast thrust. His cock twitching inside of you as he was reaching his end. “God baby, I’m gonna cum.” He sighed, you were too, he felt you clench hard around him as his thrusts got sloppy and you both came at the same time. You coating his dick with your slick and him coating your walls with his cum.

“I’m so sorry honey, I love you so much.”

“I forgive you baby.”

A/n: THIS IS MY WORST WORK EVER IM SO SO SORRY I DONT KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT BETTER 🙁 You can yell at me all you want I apologise 🤞

#guns n roses #izzy stradlin #slash #axl rose #duff mckagan #steven adler #slash gnr #duff gnr #izzy gnr #axl gnr #steven gnr #slash x reader #slash smut

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shadesslut · 7 months

Note

hiiii! could i suggest a fic thats kinda been on the top of my head recently?? soft ethan landry originally tried to get close to the group by getting with amber freemans ex whos the adopted daughter of dewey and gale. originally she died alongside her dad, but the doctors brought her back. so now, she lives in constant ptsd from it and has a bad episode after having a nightmare of deweys death, though even though she tries to not bother ethan about her past, hes there then and helps her thru it

IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE THIS. I HOPE YOU ENJOY🫶

haunted

Pairing: (Ex-Amber Freeman x Ex-Fem!Reader, Fem!Reader x Ethan Landry)

Content Includes: (Angst, fluff)

Main Masterlist

✮

Her mouth was stained with a taste of metallic. Her vision was blurred, everything tinted by a bright white light, but she knew what was happening. Her father was dead, staring coldly at her as he laid on the white tiles of the hospital. Was all of this for nothing? All those years of fighting not only for himself, but for his daughter. All those years of winning those battles against Ghostface. All of the sacrifices he gave, it was taken away by a simple kitchen knife. Taken away by her.

Amber Freeman. The one who finally got Dewey. The one who haunted Y/N’s dreams, and the one who haunted her nightmares. Tonight was a nightmare.

She knew she was dreaming, she knew it. But the way Amber pulled off her mask as she laid there bloody, it hurt just as much as it did that day.

“Please, Amber,” she pleaded in pain. Blood spewed out of the freshly cut wound on her chest. “I love you.”

Amber looked coldly down at her, and at that moment, Y/N realized. Realized all of it was fake. All of the words and kisses Amber gave her; none of it was real. She wished she could apologize to her dad, she wished she could tell him how much she loved and appreciated him. She never did that. And now she never could.

She prepared herself for the knife to sink into her side. She knew the routine by now, it was like clockwork. It would hurt, it would feel real, but every time, Amber would kiss her. And maybe, just maybe, that made up for the pain.

The knife sunk into her stomach, and she arched up as she screamed in pain. Amber kissed her, just as she anticipated. Her vision started to grow black, like spilled ink staining a painting. Amber was a painting to her. Her beautiful work of art she loved looking at, even if Amber wanted to hurt her.

Then, she awoke.

First she shot up, then she breathed heavily. Her breaths were sharp and quick, and her hand went to her chest as she felt it tighten. Ethan stirred as she started to cry.

His eyes fluttered open as he looked to the source of noise. His eyes widened, and he immediately sat up to wrap his arms around her.

“Shhh it’s okay, I’m here,” He whispered.

She turned her head to look at him, and all she focused on were his eyes. Dark, brown like hers. She hated how sometimes she would get so lost in his eyes, she would think of Amber’s eyes. How they darkened as she looked down at her in excitement.

“It’s just me,” he said. It was just him. There wasn’t any evil in his eyes

She only let out a choked sob, and Ethan moved her head to rest on his chest. He pulled her to curl in his lap, her legs pulled up to her chest as he cradled her.

“You're okay, I've got you.”

She steadied her breaths. Don’t think of her, think of him.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. This was the fourth time this week. He shook his head and shushed her. He kissed the crown of her head and started humming her favorite song. The same song Dewey sang to her when she was little.

“I miss him.” She whispered under her breath.

“I know.” He whispered back.

She didn’t know how many more nights of these she could take. She knew Ethan would leave her soon, that he would grow tired of this.

“I’m sorry for waking you, again.”

“It’s okay,” He cooed, playing with her hair. “It’s not a bother. I just want you to be okay. I love you.”

She looked up at him, eyes glossy. She opened her mouth to respond. To tell him she loved him too.

“You don’t have to say it. I know it’s hard for you.”

She let her head move against his chest as he breathed. They sat in a blissful silence in each other’s arms. Her nose whistled as she breathed softly, and Ethan smiled down at her. He was the only thing that made her feel happy. He protected her, just like Dewey did.

“You know,” Ethan started as he wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “The moment Chad pointed you out at that party, I knew I was done for. I knew that you were the one for me, and I didn’t need to look for that perfect girl anymore.”

“Ethan,” she choked out.

“Let me finish,” he gently interrupted her. “I knew what happened to you last year. Chad told me that he’d kill me if I hurt you, but I knew you could do that yourself. You’re so strong, Y/N. You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. You are so much more than what happened to you that night, so much more than her. She wasn’t good enough for you, and even if she was she didn’t deserve you. No one does, because you are perfect. I love you. I love you with everything I have.”

She grabbed his hand, and she placed it over her heart. I love you too.

He kissed her. He kissed her so many times that she forgot about her dream. And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel bad about her father’s death.

That night, Amber wasn’t in her dreams. Only Ethan.

#scream #scream 6 #scream vi #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #jack champion #ghostface x reader #ethan kirsch #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman #mikey madison #ghostface

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greatstormcat · 2 months

Text

Be Careful What You Wish For

Part 1 Part 2

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x chubby!f!reader

TW: MDNI 18+, darkfic, kidnap, imprisonment, non-con, poorly prepped anal, forced orgasm, oral m!receiving, double penetration, degradation, vomiting.

AN: dead dove read the tags, if you proceed below the cut you consent to reading what is there and will suffer in silence if you do.

You wake up sore and bruised the next morning, hoping that the nightmare you had wasn’t real, keeping your eyes closed trying to remember what the inside of your hotel room looks like so when you open them and see the bland but functional furnishings everything will be okay. You open them, and you fight the urge to scream. You’re in the basement still, lying in a musty bed with a single light bulb illuminating the windowless space, secured behind a metal mesh against the ceiling.

Kyle is nowhere to be seen in the dim light, but a warm space remains on the mattress beside you to indicate that he hasn’t long left the bed. After a few moments of staring at the ceiling above you, trying not to think about the creeping wetness oozing between your thighs, you give up and roll from the musty bed and stagger, naked, into the tiny bathroom. Your stomach curdles and churns, giving you only a few moments to get to the toilet before you throw up.

“Good morning to you too,” a cold voice cuts through your weak sobs once you finish emptying your stomach. Your skin crawls as you look over your shoulder and see the masked man, Ghost, leaning against the doorway nonchalantly, a mug in one hand as he watches you. He isn’t wearing the skull mask now, just a black balaclava with a skull pattern printed on it. His blue jeans cling to his thickly muscled thighs, and a black tshirt covers his broad chest and arms.

“Fuck you,” you mumble between retches, tears wetting your face as bile and acid sting your throat and nose before you slump back on the floor, the cold concrete almost soothing against your exposed skin after the heat of vomiting. “Just kill me already and get this over with.” All too late you realise your mistake, this might have been a somewhat safe approach with Kyle but with this huge man, defiance only makes his eyes burn more fiercely and an obvious tightening at the crotch of his jeans has you swallowing back a rush of panic.

“Are you so eager to get roughed up and fucked again you want to antagonise me the moment you wake up?” he asks in a tone as sharp and cold as steel. Instinctively you clench your thighs together and shake your head.

“No, no,” you babble, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t mean it…” His eyes rake over your naked, trembling form as you try your hardest to shrink back into the wall behind you.

“Get up, I brought you breakfast,” he snaps eventually, and turns away towards the main room of the basement again. You hear him walking up the wooden stairs to the ground floor of the house again, and the sound of the door being locked behind him. You take a moment to make sure you are alone before getting up and making your way out of the bathroom. There’s a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs on the bedside table, and the mug Ghost had been holding sat beside it.

Ignoring both you head to your case, the one they’d stolen from your hotel room and open it searching for anything you can use to help yourself escape. Your leg razor is missing from your wash bag, as is anything else that would have made a vaguely serviceable weapon, as well as your supply of pain meds for headaches and so on.

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself as you suddenly realise the majority of your clothes are also missing from the case. They only thing you’ve been left with is your cotton pyjamas, some underwear and an over sized hoodie you keep for relaxing in.

With a sense of defeat you dress in the pyjamas to stave off the cold of the room, and lie on the bed to cry. You must have cried yourself to sleep because the next thing you are conscious of is a sudden, violent slap on your backside making you scream with fear. You bolt upright and find Kyle standing over you, his face twisted in annoyance.

“What’s wrong with the food, eh?” he demands, a note of disappointment in his voice as he sits on the bed making you roll towards him slightly. “We can’t have you refusing to eat and passing out on us.” He is dressed more casually now, dark jeans and a white crew neck shirt.

“It’s not going to stop us, if that’s what you think,” Ghost adds as he comes down the steps and looks at you on the bed beside Kyle, his arms folded over his chest.

“I don’t want anything from you,” you reply, trying to make your voice sound firmer than you’re feeling. “I don’t want to be here and I don’t want anything from either of you. Let me go!”

“If you won’t eat we’ll have to punish you, understand?” Kyle continues in a calm, infuriatingly mild tone, as though he is speaking to a close friend and not a captive. He completely ignores your protest, as though dealing with a petulant child.

“You’re not listening to me,” you persist. “Let me go, I won’t tell anyone about you. I promise,” you plead, trying to bargain your way out of the situation.

“Why would we do that? When you’re exactly what we’ve been looking for all this time?” Kyle smiles, draping his arm across your shoulders. You shudder and try to pull away but he tightens his hold, crushing you against him. “We want to keep you here with us, to keep us… company.” He continues, his eyes wandering down your body, lingering on where your nipples press against the thin cotton of your top with the chill.

“And if you’re staying with us you better behave or you’re going to regret it,” Ghost adds. He walks over to the small set of drawers and pulls one open. He retrieves a collar and lead from inside before closing in and moving over to sit in the armchair beside the bed. “You want to be a disobedient bitch then we can treat you like one.”

“Get on your hands and knees,” Kyle whispers into your ear, his hot breath sliding over your skin. “Over there infront of him, don’t make him wait.” The threat is obvious in his words and the way the masked man glares at you. Haltingly you get off the bed and onto the floor as told, crawling over towards Ghost and eying the collar and lead warily. It’s better than acknowledging the bulge in the front of his jeans as he manspreads in the chair.

It's a basic dog collar and lead, a small silvery tag hanging from the D ring on the front. You’d seen fancy, artisan leather collars online, things given as gifts to lovers to enjoy during kinky sex, but this is a rough black leather thing clearly picked up from the pet section of a supermarket. This was not a tantalising and titillating thing, it is a symbol of your imprisonment. Likewise, the lead he holds is a simple black length of webbing, cheap and basic but ideal for its job.

“Chin up,” Ghost grunts once you are kneeling in front of him, and you comply with his words despite the sinking feeling in your stomach. He puts the collar around your throat and tightens it to the point of almost restricting the blood flow to your brain, the rough fabric already irritating your skin, before clipping on the lead. There’s a satisfied noise rumbling in his chest as he sits back in the tattered armchair and looks down at you.

He sits with his thighs spread, the way he did the night before, his eyes dark and feral as he looks down at you kneeling on the floor. With a head spinning tug on the lead he jerks you closer, a pained yelp escaping you as he does so, and you take the hint to crawl into the space between them. It's hard not to lean against his thick thighs, the cold of the room making you keen to feel the warmth this bastard is offering you by being close to him like this.

He uses his empty hand to unfasten his jeans and free his half-hard cock, the piercings underneath shining in the low light. He stares at you while he runs his hand up and down the shaft several times, making it thicken and lengthen just a few inches from your face.

“Open you mouth,” he tells you, and you hesitate, earning a sharp tug on the lead that snaps you closer with a gasp. He takes the opportunity to force the thick tip between your lips and holds you there as you fight and splutter. “Open, I said,” he growls and you relent rather than end up with a broken neck as he pulls the lead again. You gag and choke as the thick length pushes further and further back down your throat, making it harder to breathe.

“You can do it,” Kyle chimes in from behind you, rather unhelpfully. “Just breathe through your nose and you’ll be fine. Try and open your throat, then it won’t hurt so much.” The tremor in his voice betrays how turned on he is, watching your predicament, and you try to relax your throat to stop the burning, bruising pain as Ghost fucks himself into your mouth.

You choke and cough, trying to gasp for air as he repeatedly fills your throat with his hard length, using the tension on the lead to keep you in place. After a few minutes his slows and stops, leaving you gasping and shaking against his thigh.

“I want to see some more of those tears while I fuck your mouth,” Ghost says quietly and then looks up at the other man. “Kyle, fuck her big, plump arse for me, that’ll get her going.”

“No!” you snap in panic, eyes wide, and the wet cock before your face twitches in response. He holds the lead tight in his fist as Kyle pulls your pyjama legs down and throws them in a crumpled ball onto the floor. Ghost quickly jams his dick back into your mouth to silence your protests, salty pre-cum leaking onto your tongue.

“Don’t worry, I’ll lube you up a bit,” you hear Kyle mutter, before he uses his broad hands to spread your cheeks and spits on your furled hole. You feel your face burn hot with humiliation, and tears well as a thick finger rubs over your hole slowly, before slowly pushing against the ring of muscle.

“Look at these pretty tears,” Ghost whispers, running the tip of one finger down your cheek to collect the tiny, glittering droplet. “C’mon, get your pretty dick in her,” he grumbles to Kyle

“Okay, there’s no rush,” Kyle coos as his finger slips in and out of your hole, the foreign sensation shockingly intense and invasive. You’d thought having his cock in your pussy was as intrusive as things could get, but this is so much worse. “The build up is just as fun, and I don’t want to break this one. I feel like she could be the one, y’know? The one we keep.” A second finger joins the first, pulling and stretching you open with sharp stings. Once he is satisfied he withdraws, and you hear him spit again, presumably into his hand to wet the head of his cock, before you feel the spongy head press against you.

Your arsehole burns at the invasion of Kyle’s cock, and his breathy moans over your shoulder do nothing to calm your panic, he’s enjoying the feeling too much to care about what’s happening to you now. His facade of sweet and caring comradery is completely abandoned as your arse squeezes and tightens around his cock and he fights not to spill himself into you immediately.

Every thrust Kyle makes forces you onto Ghost’s dick harder and harder, your gag reflex battling every single movement and you’re thankful you ignored the breakfast now. The gods only know what would happen if you vomited into the man’s lap, despite him not caring about the tortured sounds you are making. His hips buck, and you can feel the way his massive thigh muscles are beginning to twitch and shake.

“Make her come,” Ghost rasps through his mask. “Make her come so hard so she screams around my cock.”

“Copy,” Kyle cryptically answers. You’re aware of Kyle shifting slightly behind you, and then the buzz of your vibrator sings through the air on its highest setting. There’s nothing you can do to avoid it as Kyle, once again, presses it to your clit while Ghost grips tightly onto the dog lead holding your head in position. You’re trapped between the two of them as the bullet vibrator pummels your clit and fires up your entire nervous system.

“Mother fucker,” Ghost groans when you cry out, the vibration of your throat around his cock matching the feel of the buzzing on your highly sensitive bundle of nerves. A deep pulsing in your pussy matches the movements of the cock in your arse with the added stimulation, and you fight the feeling as hard as possible, clenching your muscles as though you can physically push the impending orgasm away as it coils and tightens in your belly.

It crashes over you, violent and unholy, making you scream around the dick in your throat and drools spills from your lips in a depraved display. Your mind reels from the force of the orgasm, your aching walls clenching around nothing leaving you with a horrible empty feeling missed with the despised waves of pleasure. You can feel how wet you are, some of the cum from the night before dribbling from you with your own juices.

“Shit, you’ve gotta feel this,” Kyle groans.

“Yeah, need to fuck her properly now,” Ghost agrees. He rearranges the three of you up on the bed, slipping his massive bulk between your legs and Kyle’s so he can notch his erection against your entrance, all while Kyle returns to being buried deep in your arse. Impaled on Kyle’s dick, you cannot shy away as Ghost grinds his hips upwards, forcing his pierced cock into your soaking wet, traitorous pussy.

The sensation is like nothing you’ve ever felt, the two cocks stretching your holes to the point you’re positive you are going to tear apart, but with an underlying high from your orgasm sparking your nerves. Not helped by the piercings underneath Ghost’s dick which press into the back of your cunt and rub against Kyle. The man in your arse isn’t unaffected by the additional pressure and lets out a shaking breath against your shoulder.

“Fucking hell, that’s… that’s tight,” Kyle groans.

“You’re tellin’ me,” Ghost replies, his voice tight, the pair of them ignoring you between them and simply using your body for their pleasure. Ghost shifts his hips, dragging his cock out of your pussy experimentally and throwing his head back at the resulting sensation. “Fuuucckkk…” he moans and begins to rock his hips. Behind you Kyle shudders again and then starts thrusting again, grinding his dick against the other man’s in the process. You’re caught between them, unable to move at all as they fill you to breaking point.

Fresh tears well up and stream down your cheeks, and gasping sobs rack your chest.

“Lookin’ so pretty like this, love,” Ghost sneers. “Bet you’ve never felt this full before, have you?”

You barely hear his words over the burning feeling, and he slaps you on the breast viciously.

“Answer me,” he snarls, fingers digging into the soft swells of your hips for a moment to pull you down onto his cock.

“No, never!” you whimper and shake your head roughly. You slump forward as their thrusts become rougher, having no choice but to rest your hands on Ghost’s chest which brings your breasts closer to his face. They swing with every jolt of your body, and his eyes lock onto them quickly. He lands open palmed slaps against them at random, slamming his hips upwards into you as he does. To add insult to it all, Kyle picks up the abandoned vibrator once more, reaching around and pressing it to your swollen clit.

“Don’t! Please, not again,” you beg. “Don’t make me come.”

“Shhh,” Kyle chuckles, pressing his lips to your shoulder as the vibrator hits your overstimulated clit. “Just take it, you’ve got no choice, remember?”

You cry out, writhing in an effort to dislodge the toy from your screaming nerves which only makes the two men moan. Your breasts swing closer to Ghost’s face. He rolls up the bottom of his balaclava to reveal scarred lips, before grasping at one of your breasts and craning his neck down to suck your nipple into his mouth.

Your pussy tightens around him at the harsh suction, and you feel his groan vibrate into the tissue in his mouth greedily. You try to pull away but Kyle leans onto you back, trapping you in place. His movements are becoming more frantic and his breathy moans are lewd and disgusting in your ear.

A sharp, tightening sensation warns you another organs is building as their cocks rub at your abused walls.

“Fuck, gonna come,” Kyle groans, lips and teeth grazing over your shoulder. “Gonna come in your ass, love. First man ever to do it too, lucky me.”

“Won’t be… the last…” Ghost grunts, lips curled in an evil smirk that makes you whimper.

Kyle’s teeth sink into your neck as he finds his release, filling your backside with thick ropes of his cum, and you cry out in pain. Its only moments before Ghost does the same, his upward thrusts becoming harder and uneven, and he kicks his head back with a final harsh grunt as he spills into you as well.

His final thrusts send you over the edge and you orgasm, wailing with the mixture of pain and pleasure. The room falls silent, the only sound that of ragged breathing from the three of you.

“You’d better eat the food we bring you going forward, yeah?” Kyle instructs you, kissing gently over the livid teeth marks on your shoulder.

All you can do is nod weakly.

——————————————————-

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queenofthedisneyverse · 1 month

Text

Fall little Wendy bird fall - Chapter 1? (Please watch video first if you haven't seen it)

youtube

TW: Mentions of child death (I added Wendy's brothers in here just for extra angst)

Peter couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even look away. He wanted to. Needed to. But the shock prevented him from doing so. Tears fell down his cheeks as he saw her lifeless body atop of the rock. The blood flowing from her skull and painting the rock a sickeningly dark red color.

“Wendy…” he wanted to scream it out but his throat…his body…he didn’t know what to do with himself. What was this feeling? What was it called? He was in so much pain but couldn’t describe it.

His first and last true love…dead. Died the most horrific and tragic death without even knowing why. Hell, he doesn’t even know why. The other lost boys were being put on land by Tink and the other Faes. confused and scared they were. What the hell just happened?!

Vidia was still holding him in the magical bubble, and she saw that hurt look in his eyes. The look of grief. The very first stage. She knows that feeling all too well. And she felt bad but…what had to be had to be done. And he’ll get over it soon enough…hopefully.

All the boys were taken back to the treehouse to rest. They were explained the situation but…with lies and the half-truth.

Tinkerbell and the others informed them that Wendy was going to take them to a horrible place. A place filled with monsters and people only wishing to harm them. Not only that, but she was going to make them forget the fairies.

“She was going to hurt you and us. We couldn’t let that happen, we had to protect you.” Tinkerbell touched the cheek of nibs and wiped his tear away.

As children do, they believed them. somewhat. There was a small feeling inside them that told them she was lying but they didn’t want to say anything.

“Come on boys. It’s been a long day, how about a bedtime story? Afterwards, you sleep” Rosetta said softly. The boys always loved bedtime stories. One of their favorite things.

The boys all cuddled in their signature sleep spot near the window. Peter was sat down next to the lost boys and let out of the bubble by Vidia. But he wasn’t mentally here right now. He was still picturing the lifeless body of his true love. The blood…that color. He for sure despised the color red now.

Tears still ran down his cheeks as he sobbed. He hasn’t stopped crying since the incident. He didn’t even hear the cover story. Not that he would’ve believed it. Wendy was a kind soul. Peter noticed that. No lie would or will tarnish his perception of her.

Tinkerbell noticed his mental absence and flew up to his face. She looked into his eyes. The once brown and hopeful ones were devoid of color. Barely a light brown. Tink knew she messed up with this one.

She never experienced true love before so she couldn’t empathize with that part, but she did love her friends. She loved those friends of hers, but they all died the more children started to lessen their belief in them.

She knew the feeling of grief very well so she could empathize with that.

“Peter…come on now. Everything will be alright. Wendy was only trying to trick you”

Don’t do it Tink!

“She didn’t love you, it wasn’t real” she tapped lightly on his nose as a small way to bring him to reality.

Yep…she just had to say it.

Peter had memories of him and Wendy having fun together. How she looked at him and made him laugh. How she made his brothers laugh and experience what having a mother was like. Even if it was small.

Her kindness. Her gentleness. There’s no way that was a trick or a lie.

“What?” he said quietly. His eyes zeroed in on her in less than a second. He stopped crying.

“She didn’t love ya pete.” Rosetta flew up next to tink. Some part of her knew this was wrong but had to try to get him to understand.

There it was again. That word, love. The way Wendy made him feel…there’s no way…

“We had to do it. There was no other choice” Vidia said with a stern tone but it was a little soft.

They had to do it?! Why?! What reason could they have to kill AND lie on an innocent girl?!

“You…killed…her” Peter said slowly, his fists balled up. The rage was seeping through. One more wrong word and he might snap.

Cubby sniffled and tugged at Peter’s short sleeve. “Tink said she was going to take us to a horrible place peter. The faes saved us”. Cubby wasn’t sure to really believe the fairies but…surely they wouldn’t hurt Wendy for no reason.

Peter snapped his head over to Cubby. The look in his eye was evident that Peter was…not okay to say the least.

“What?!” He barked

Tink knew what was about to happen. Seems like he’s going to be hard to get through to.

“Peter please! We did this for you, all of you” she flew up to his face again and looked into his eyes. Searching for any sign of him believing her. In an instant. In less than two seconds. Peter smacked her away from his face. Smacked her hard enough for her to hit the ground.

“For me?! You did this for me?! You killed her! The only person that…that..that I LOVED! She was kind to me. Not a monster!” Peter seethed as he looked down at her.

The other lost boys stood there in shock. Peter would never hurt Tink or her friends. Sure, he swatted her away when she was annoying but never a full pledged smack. Pete basically did the equivalent of smacking your aunt in the face.

The other faes were shocked too but instantly got into action. Iridessa constrained Peter back with vines. Rosetta and Vidgia helped tinkerbell off the floor with concerned expressions.

Peter squirmed and thrashed relentlessly. His rage boiling over big time the more he was tied up.

“Let me go you monsters! You killers! Let me go, you bugs!” Peter tried to get away but he couldn’t. Some of the lost boys began to cry and hug Peter to calm him down.

“Peter stop!” screamed skunk

“Peter please” said nibs

The boy of discussion wasn’t listening to them at all. His main focus was tinkerbell and the other faes. Peter has never felt this much anger in his entire life…which is a long time. The color came back to eyes but it was the same color as Wendy’s blood but with a brighter more glowing hue.

“I’ll kill you Tinkerbell if that’s the last thing I ever do!” Peter fumed as he still tried to get out of the vines that were wrapped around his arms and legs. Tinkerbell looked into his eyes. There was real truth and intent in them.

This made her angry, but she stayed composed. Vidia was about to smack Peter, but Tink flew up behind her and put her hand on her shoulder. “Vidia, Rosetta, Iridessa…take the boys further up the tree. I need to have a talk with peter”

The Faes did as she asked and took the boys out of sight. Rosetta was a little hesitant, so she added an extra layer of vines around him just in case, then she left with the others.

Tink flew up to Peter’s face…and smacked him. Not as hard as she pushed Wendy but hard enough to leave some pain. It hurt. It really did. Tink wasn’t one for physical discipline, that was Vidia and Rosetta’s job but a lesson needed to be taught.

Peter let tears fall down his cheeks. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the physical pain of the slap or the emotional pain of Wendy’s death. Either way, he was hurting.

Her face was composed but eyebrows furrowed. “Peter…you know what happened to my kind. We died off one by one. Because little brats out there stopped believing in us. You and those boys were going to leave us behind and forget…I couldn’t have that.”

Peter's eyes widened at the realization. He forgot all about tink and the others while he was on that ship, the boys did too. But still…Wendy didn’t deserve that…wait..her brothers. Where were her brothers?! They were on the ship to…oh sweet neverland.

“John…John and Michael. Where are they?!” Peter asked with fear but anger in his tone.

Did this boy not hear her? Did he just blatantly ignore what she just said?! This angered Tink further. So much so that…she wasn’t mindful of what she’ll say

“Dead! Their dead peter! All three of them! They drowned and died just like their sister!” Tink yelled at him. And she regretted it as soon as she said it. The hurt look in Peter’s eyes was all it took for her heart to sink.

“No…no. You're lying…please tell me you're lying!” Peter begged as more tears left his eyes.

Tinkerbell wanted to lie, to tell him all of it was some big joke. But how could she? He already saw Wendy die and she already yelled that her brothers were dead. Wendy’s death was already an indication that she couldn’t even lie if she wanted to.

Her silence was loud, loud enough for him to know the answer. The dam broke further and he bursted out in full uncontrollable sobs. It hurt Tinkerbell to see him like this but she had to do what she needed to do.

“I hate you” Peter breathed out as he sobbed, “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you, you monster!”

Those words shocked Tinkerbell. Off all things that was the last thing she would ever expect him to say to her. That hurt worse than the slap he gave her. No, she couldn’t show weakness. Not at a time like this.

“You ungrateful little brat. I gave you this home! I gave you brothers and the chance to never grow up! You have every child's dream yet you dare speak to me that way?! I gave you everything” She reprimanded.

“I DIDN’T ASK TO BE HERE! You could’ve taken any other kid yet you took me! You ripped my life away once and did it again! I was going to have a life with-.” Peter felt sick as he saw the dead body of Wendy in his mind again. Not to mention her brothers bodies are at the bottom of the ocean by now “you took their life…you killed them”

How could he not see that this was not necessary?!

“ We would’ve died if you left!”

“You think we would’ve forgotten you?! We care about you as much as you do for us. How could we possibly forget you?!” Peter sobbed louder as the pain in his heart grew bigger each second.

“Why didn’t you just come with us?” his voice was small and faint, the crying was making him lose his voice.

Tinkerbell was caught off guard by that question.

“What?” she didn’t need to ask him that. She understood the question very well-

“...you could’ve left with us…”

Tink didn’t think of that. Not at all. You mean to tell her she didn’t have to kill three innocent children? No, that’s not possible.

No, all of it was for a reason. That’s final.

“You killed them” Peter repeated as his mind and heart continued to shatter into pieces.

“well…I didn’t bring them here. The only person to blame here is you” more words she regretted as soon as they slipped out of her mouth. Did she really just say that?! Take it back, take it back!

“No wait I’m-”

“My fault...MY FAULT?!” Rage settled over Peter again as tears flowed.

“No, Peter please”

“I just wanted to give them a better life YOU KILLED THEM YOU MURDERER!”

The argument went on back and forth until Peter refused to listen to anything she had to say. All words that came out of her mouth fell on deaf ears as he had one thing set on his mind.

He wasn’t even looking her in the eye. Just at the floor as tears dropped onto it. He spoke his final words “....count your days Tinkerbell”

Tinkerbell stopped trying to get through to him. That was a threat. Not an empty one either. Tink decided it was best to leave Peter alone to cool off because right now he wasn’t in the right space to talk to. And she was a little bit scared of his presence.

She flew out of the window and sat on top of a tree branch.

“He’ll come around Tink, everything will be fine and go back to how things used to be” she told herself with a smile. She actually believed that.

For the following days, weeks, and months, Peter wouldn't talk to any of the Faes. Hell, he wouldn't even speak. Not even to the lost boys.

He did a couple times, but to only tell them the fairies were lying to them. After that, Vidia banned the boys from ever going into Peter's room.

They were only allowed to visit him when it was feeding time. Peter wouldn't take food from the fairy girls, so the boys were the best way to ensure his health.

At these times one of the boys would be accompanied by a fairy to make sure Peter wouldn't tell any lies. Or put down any belief in them if he did manage to say something.

Tink was the only fairy who refused to see him. She couldn't bare seeing him in that condition. That pure hatred and intent to kill in his eyes.

It hurt all of the fairies honestly, to the very core of their being. It hurt to lie. It hurt to see the boys being unsure and skeptical around them. They never wanted none of this to happen. But it did...and they were paying for it internally everyday.

They didn't want to treat Peter as if he was some prisoner who did a heinous crime but if they let him go their lives would be at stake.

And Peter didn't know is that...he would remain in that room..,for a very long time.

To pixie hollow/Tinker bell fans I'm letting you know now that I only watched Pirate Fairy and Secret of the wings in the entire franchise. So, I don't know that much about the characters. I'm basing half of my knowledge off of the Peter Pan movie in 1953.

If you want to drop some info in my inbox, go ahead and if you have any questions drop them there too.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!

#tinkerbell #disney fairies #iridessa #vidia #Rosetta #silvermist #fawn #Youtube #pixie hollow #au #FLWBF au #my asks are open

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teyamsgrl · 1 year

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Okey u said request angst so here I am! I’ve been non-stop thinking abt the idea that Neteyam left his love behind when the Sullys left for Awa’atlu. So what I’m thinking is he promises her that he’ll return and she waits and hopes, and hopes and waits and one day he appears to her when she visits the spirit tree and it’s kinda fluffy for a minute but then it sinks in that he’s never coming back to her </3

THIS SHATTERED MY HEART WTF 😭 I LEGIT CRIED WHILE WRITING THIS OH MY GAWWWWD

this is also gonna be more of a blurb style in the way of length

when will i see you again? ✧ neteyam

°˖➴ warnings: fem omatikaya reader, neteyam death mentions, to sum it up: sad 🫠 - yawne: beloved

it had been almost 7 months since your mate had left for awa'atlu with his family. it had been hard without him, you wanted to go with them desperately but it was something that was much easier said than done. neteyam's last words to you ring through your head each day that passes, "i promise, yawne, i will be back before you know it to come visit. i promise i will be with you again soon". you couldn't help but wonder what was happening in awa'atlu, you figured it would maybe be 2-3 months before neteyam returned for a visit, but 7 was pushing what you had assumed.

having been down in the dumps all day, you decided a visit to the tree of souls would be a good way to unwind and bring you some comfort. upon settling under the tree you grabbed your queue, examining the tendrils as they began to attach themselves to a section of the tree. your eyes flutter shut at the connection, a sigh falling from your lips.

once connected, you spot neteyam who is sitting on a rock beside a stream within the forest. you smile as you remember that this is where you first met, and he was sitting on that exact rock. your heart swells when a grin creeps onto his face, teeth showing and eyes bright. "neteyam!" you say excitedly... before it hits you. there is only one way that neteyam would be visiting you through the tree of souls; if he was dead. you begin to hyperventilate, tears pouring from your eyes which neteyam always said were sparkling.

"this- this can't be real, no no no!" you cry, hands reaching for the neteyam in your vision. "i'm sorry, yawne. this is the only way i can visit now. i'm sorry i didn't get to give you a proper goodbye before i went with eywa..." he steps closer, grabbing your hands tightly in his own. it is as though you can truly feel him, rough and large hands holding your soft and small ones. you sob more at this action, body shaking from your cries. "no neteyam, no you aren't dead no! no this isn't- no you aren't dead!" you blubber out the words while gazing at his face through your teary eyes. "i'm so sorry, i didn't want you to find out this way. i wish i was really there with you.." he whispers, hands now holding your waist gingerly. your hands grip his shoulders, digging into them as though you do not want to let this vision of him go.

"neteyam-" even uttering his name caused a sob to escape. "when will i see you again?" you whimper as you fully comprehend that you will not be able to physically be with neteyam ever again. you will never get to have his kisses or his warm cuddles through the night or his hand holds as you walk through the village together or hear his jokes or listen to his laugh. all you will have is this vision of him. "ma y/n, you can come to the tree whenever you need me, i will always be here. and when it is your time, you will be able to join me here with eywa. you will always have me, i will always be in your heart. you will never be without me, yawne"

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thequeenviana · 1 month

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Inkbound

CHAPTER 1

Pairings:

Yandere Taehyung × OC × Yandere Jungkook

Warning: This story is a work of fanfiction and is purely a product of the author's imagination. It does not depict any real-life events or individuals. While some characters may be inspired by real-life idols, their portrayal in this story is fictional and not representative of their true selves. Please note that this story may contain triggering content, including themes of abuse, gore, murder, humiliation, bullying, rape, and other mature and dark themes. Reader discretion is advised, especially for those under the age of 18. If you are uncomfortable with such content, it is recommended to refrain from reading and kindly disregard this story.

A painful cry escapes from Yana's swollen lips as her husband mercilessly beats her with his belt, the force of each strike leaving marks on her pale skin. Helpless and lying on the cold, dirty ground of the mansion's basement, Yana endures the brutal assault as this is not new to her. Her husband gazes at her with a mixture of disgust, hatred, and rage, his desire to kill her was evident in his eyes and actions towards her.

However, he knows it won't be that easy; he intends to make her suffer for all the harm she has caused his family, especially his beloved Nara.

Finally, he ceases his attack, observing Yana's battered state on the ground blankly.

Blood surrounds her body, as if she is bathing in her own pain. Yet, there is no trace of regret or guilt in his eyes as he coldly looks on her trembling figure. Yana, still crying in agony, curls herself into a ball, her body heaving with sobs.

A whistle suddenly reaches his ears,the sound echoing on the basement,but he pays no attention, refusing to turn around and identify the source. As the person approaches with a deadly smirk and an aura of danger, he stops and places a comforting hand on the younger man's shoulder.

Overwhelmed with emotions, the younger man breaks down in tears, hastily wiping them away. The older man embraces him tightly, his gaze fixed on the bloody woman, who is still painfully breathing. Yana, lying on the ground, gazes blankly at the ceiling, numb to the presence of the newcomer, as she already knows who it is,and she's scared of this man more than the one who beats her up to a pulp just right now.

She can't number the tortures that he have done to her that made her traumatized but still her love for him won't ever change even though he even cutted off her two pinky fingers after he have accused her of stealing.

"I missed Nara, hyung! So much!" the younger man cries out, his tough facade crumbling. The older man gently pats his back, closing his eyes and suppressing his own urge to break down in front of this cruel woman.

"I know, Jungkook. I missed her too," he whispers softly, reaching for the gun concealed in his black pants.

"Let's put an end to this woman's life. I can't bear it any longer."

Jungkook nods, his anger evident as he swiftly turns around, crouching in front of Yana. With a voice filled with coldness and hatred, he grips her blood-soaked hair tightly.

"I wish it was you who was dead, not our love," Jungkook harshly says through gritted teeth.

"And I also wish I never met you, you clingy bitch," he adds, his eyes burning with resentment. Yana, in her final moments, looks at the two men, making eye contact with them. All she sees is pure hatred and rage, as ever since Nara entered their lives, they both despised her from the depths of their hearts, deceived by Nara's lies.

A faint smile appears on Yana's face as her entire life flashes before her eyes like a movie recap. In her mind, she wishes she could express her feelings to both of them, to tell them that she had been there for them from the very beginning. But in the end, they abandoned her, even after all the time she spent by their side. She loved them both, forever.

She wished she could bring back time, change everything and never met them, stay away from them and live her life to the fullest.

She broke her family,her parents heart for this mans.

She turned her back to her parents who's begging for her to stop her ridiculous actions,but she never listened for this mans.

She have wasted and pushed away her best friends who she believes that time was not supporting her but now she regrets it for not listening to them,

She missed them,very much and she wishes to just for the last time she can say sorry to them,one last time and hug them tightly.

"I wished you two had trusted me more, because I was the one who was there for you both from the start. But you chose to believe her over your own best friend," she silently declares in her mind. With her eyes closed, she smiles one last time.

'BANG!'

In the basement, the sound of the gunshot reverberates, marking the end of the woman's life.

"The end."

"Wait, what?!"

The young girl suddenly stood up from her seat, shouting in disbelief. The book she was reading was still in her hand as she stared at the last word, flipping the pages back and forth, hoping the author was playing a cruel joke with the ending.

"You've got to be kidding me! That's it?"

She continued to stare at the book, a pout forming on her red lips. Dissatisfied with the conclusion, she put the book down and crossed her arms in defeat.

"Yah!"

She yelled in surprise as someone shouted near her ear, startling her. Her flailing hands accidentally hit the intruder in the nose.

The unexpected hit made the person groan in pain and touch their nose to check for blood. She quickly turned around to see her younger brother, Jae, still touching his nose and moaning in discomfort.

She gasped and quickly moved his hand away to inspect his nose, sighing in relief when she saw it was fine.

"Why would you do that? You know how clumsy I am sometimes."

Jae scoffed at his older sister before grinning and sitting beside her. His attention was drawn to the book.

"Why were you cursing, sis?"

Jae asked, noticing his sister's disappointment. She huffed, crossed her arms, and looked down at the book.

"I just don't like the ending of the book. And stop calling me old sis! It's annoying!"

She said, lightly hitting his head. He groaned and playfully glared at his older sister.

"What, you're my older sister, so I'm gonna call you that!"

He retorted.

"But still, don't add 'old' to 'sis'!"

She huffed and looked away, as Jae chuckled at his older sister's childish behavior.

"Oh, come on, just tell me why you're upset about the book's ending."

He asked, resting his head on his arms on the table and focusing on his sister.

"Can you believe it? The girl in this story died just like that, without getting justice for that evil woman, Nara's lies. Oh, I hate her! But I don't like what Yana did in this story either."

She shrugged before continuing, as Jae silently and eagerly listened to her rant.

"Yana was too desperate in this story. She didn't even do anything to get revenge for what that woman did to her life! And also, she was so clingy to those men! Like, woman, there are so many men in the world, not just them!"

She paused, panting and reaching for a glass of water which she quickly gulped down before slamming it back onto the table, startling Jae.

"And! You know those men! If I were in her shoes, I wouldn't be that dumb to chase them desperately and lower myself to them! Ugh! If I were Yana, I would change the whole story and make her life have a happy ending, not her chasing those men desperately and throwing herself at them like a whore!"

She spoke quickly, as Jae frowned at his sister's frustrating words about the story.

"Maybe the author planned it–"

Jae tried to interject, only to be cut off by his frustrated sister.

"No! It's absurd! How can someone just end it like that without a proper ending and justice for the character!"

She rolled her eyes and looked away as Jae looked at her blankly, shaking his head and chuckling.

"You should sleep now," Jae suggested, patting her head before standing up and leading her to her bedroom.

After wishing his still-grumpy sister a good night, he left for his room.

On the other hand,Fae slowly trudged towards her bed, slumping onto it, her mind still preoccupied with the frustrating ending of the book. She grabbed a pillow, hugging it tightly as she lay down.

"If I were her, I wouldn't be that stupid!"

Fae muttered, rolling her eyes as she gazed out of her window. The tranquil night gradually soothed her racing heart, and sleep began to envelope her, leading her into a deep slumber that she would never forget her whole life.

The mansion was suddenly engulfed in a wave of panic.

The once peaceful silence was shattered by the noises that stirred Fae from her sleep. She frowned and groaned in annoyance at the disturbance, her mind still foggy with sleep. The murmurs of hushed voices filled the air, their whispers carrying an undertone of urgency and worry.

Gossip swirled around her, whispers of strange happenings that stirred the mansion's usually calm environment. Yet, Fae was too lazy to wake herself fully and investigate the cause of the commotion. Despite the intriguing rumors and the frantic atmosphere, she preferred the comfort of her bed, choosing to ignore the chaos and attempt to drift back into her peaceful slumber.

As Fae was on the verge of slipping back into a deep sleep again, her bedroom door suddenly burst open, causing her eyes to snap open in startlement. She gasped, quickly sitting up to see who the intruder was, her expression filled with anger as she prepared to unleash a barrage of words, determined to set this person straight and impart some wisdom about the importance of not disturbing a sleeping human, for God's sake!

But before she could utter a single word, her eyes widened in disbelief as she laid eyes on the furious man storming towards her.

"Young Master–"

One of the girls attempted to intervene, trying to stop the raging man from getting closer to Fae.'wait who were these people!' Fae couldn't help but wonder who these people were. Were they intruders? Are they being invaded?What was happening? Her mind raced with panic, but her thoughts were abruptly cut off as the man forcefully pushed the woman aside, causing her to stumble and fall to the ground. Fae's eyes widened at the sight, her heart pounding in her chest.

In an instant, the man's hands closed around her neck, squeezing tightly, cutting off her airflow. Panic surged through Fae's veins. She desperately tried to speak, to gasp for breath, but the man's grip prevented her from doing so. She clawed at his veiny, tattooed, muscular arms, her attempts at resistance in futile. She knew she stood no chance against this imposing figure.

"Who–"

Fae managed to choke out a word, only to be abruptly silenced by the man who was choking her.

"You! I told you to stay away from her! Yet, you hurt her again!"

He yelled, his eyes filled with a mixture of rage and....hurt? as he glared at Fae.

Confusion swirled in Fae's mind. 'Hurt who? What was this man talking about?' She couldn't comprehend the situation unfolding before her.

"Yah! Stop that!"

A manly voice suddenly shouted, and the man was forcefully pulled away from Fae. She gasped for air desperately, silently thanking the unknown savior who had intervened and saved her from the clutches of the man who had been choking her.

Fae's gaze darted between the man who had attacked her and the newcomer who had come to her rescue. As she looked around, she realized there were other unfamiliar faces in the room. Fear gripped her heart. Who were these people? And where in the world was she?

Questions flooded her mind, but before she could voice them, the man who had attacked her spoke up again.

"Let me go, hyung! This witch hurt Nara because of her jealousy!"

Fae furrowed her brow, her confusion growing as she looked at him with a mixture of frustration and bewilderment.

"Calm down, Jungkook!"

'Jungkook?'

The name struck a chord in Fae's memory, though she couldn't quite place it. She shrugged off the familiarity, still struggling to understand what was happening. Was this some kind of prank?

"How can I calm down? This bitch is crossing the line! She's hurting Nara because she's jealous of her!"

The man continued, pointing an accusing finger at Fae, who glared back at him, her anger boiling over as she stood up in bed.

"What did you just call me, you bastard?!"

Fae burst out angrily, her voice filled with indignation.

Everyone in the room gasped, their eyes widening at Fae's outburst. It was a rare sight to witness their young madam raise her voice, especially directed at someone like Jeon Jungkook,her love.

Jungkook himself froze in place, stunned by Fae's sudden outburst. Had she really just shouted at him? It was a new and strange experience for him, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. He continued to stare at Fae, trying to make sense of the conflicting emotions swirling within him.

Fae rolled her eyes, her frustration still evident as she exclaimed, "GET OUT, ALL OF YOU!"

Her voice rang out even louder this time, causing everyone to flinch, except for Jungkook, who looked at her with wide eyes. He couldn't help but wonder what was happening. Why was his heart racing like this? And why did he feel a strange sense of hurt at Fae's words? It was the first time she had ever shouted at him and what's strange for him was he didn't like it.

Jungkook's mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation, but he was abruptly pulled away from the room, not fully comprehending what was unfolding.

Fae's gaze settled on the last woman who was about to exit the room.

"You!"

Fae called out, causing the woman to freeze in her tracks.

'God, I need to find out what's happening!'

Fae thought to herself, feeling utterly confused by the events that had transpired. She yearned for answers, realizing that this was not a prank anymore.The unfamiliar faces in the room made it clear that her family wouldn't orchestrate something like this, knowing how sensitive she was.

As she took a deep breath, preparing herself for the confrontation, a mix of fear and confusion coursed through her veins 'like the hell is happening,am I being kidnapped?oh hell no! that's not it and what the heck does that handsome man a while ago talking about?'

She only remembered sleeping in her room,then this!

She stepped forward, her voice steady and resolute as she addressed the last woman who had paused at her command.

"You! Stay right there. I need to know what's happening. I demand the truth.Did you all kidnapped me!?"

The woman's eyes widened, her expression a mix of surprise and fear at her young madam's exclaim of being kidnapped?

'Oh no,we need doctor Lee again' The woman thought with fear for the young woman's well being.

As the room fell into a tense silence, Fae's mind raced with questions. Who were these people? What had transpired to lead to this moment? And most importantly, why was she at the center of it all?But one thing she was sure of,she was kidnapped.

With each passing second, Fae grows annoyed as the woman still did not talk anything .

The woman looks here and there not meeting Fae's annoyed eyes.

"Young Madam,I think you need to take a rest right now. Your father will come here and he will answer your questions."

She quietly excused herself and left in a hurry as Fae grips her hair in frustration.

Fae stands up straight again and ignore what the woman had said.

'No!I need to go home,my family is probably waiting for me!'

With a determined mind, Fae cautiously stepped forward towards the door, her main goal being to escape from wherever she was and return home. She couldn't shake the feeling that her parents must be worried about her by now.

Casting quick glances around, Fae stealthily crept out, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of the people who had caused her distress. Fear gripped her as she worried they might catch her and lock her up.

As she ventured further, she noticed that the hallways were devoid of any people. Seizing the opportunity, she swiftly ran down the left hallway. However, her hurried pace came to an abrupt halt when her eyes fell upon a picture hanging on the wall.

"Wait... What in the world is this?"

Fae exclaimed in surprise, her eyes widening as she stared at the picture framed with a golden border.

"Is that me?!"

Horror washed over her as she realized she was in the photograph, surrounded by faces she couldn't recognize. A sense of unease crept over her, causing her to slowly back away.

But her retreat was interrupted as she bumped into a solid chest. Startled, she quickly turned around, only to find herself face to face with a strikingly handsome young man. She couldn't help but be awestruck by his appearance.

'Oh my god, he's so handsome!'

Internally fangirling, Fae found herself momentarily lost in admiration of the handsome man before her. 'wait where does he came from?I didn't seen him coming.' However, her focus quickly shifted back to her priority: escaping this imposing house and reuniting with her family, who she missed dearly.

Fae cautiously backed away from the man, catching his attention. He raised an eyebrow, surprised by her actions. It was the first time for him, as she had always been the one to throw herself at him, acting like a clingy leech. Her sudden change in behavior intrigued him.

"Jungkook told me what you did again, Yana," he said, his gaze turning cold as he took a step forward, cornering her against the wall next to the photograph.

Fae furrowed her brow, trying to make sense of his words.

'Jungkook again? No... no, Fae, that's ridiculous and did he just called me Yana?! Nope! It's probably just a coincidence,' she chuckled, momentarily forgetting the dire situation she was in.

Growing increasingly impatient and angry, the man punched the wall, not too forcefully, to bring Fae back to her senses. She flinched and became scared as she saw the murderous look in his eyes.

"W-what are you saying?!" Fae stammered, her fear palpable. There was a dark aura surrounding the man that made her tremble. Something in his eyes told her to run as far away as she could.

The man let out a dark chuckle, his deep voice resonating through the empty hallway. He briefly looked down, poking his tongue inside his cheek. Under different circumstances, it might have been attractive, but given the situation, Fae couldn't focus on that.

He looked up, glaring at her once again before speaking, "If you do that again–"

Fae had had enough. Before he could finish his sentence, she forcefully pushed him away, causing him to stumble back. Seizing the opportunity, she dashed away, leaving the angry, handsome man yelling for her to come back.

Gritting his teeth in anger, the man dusted off his expensive shirt and straightened it, glaring at the spot where Fae had disappeared. A loud commotion reached his ears, and he turned around to find a group of maids running towards him, panting heavily.

"Young Master Kim, pardon us, but have you seen Young Madam?" one of the maids asked, fear evident in her eyes from their frantic chase.

Raising an eyebrow, the man answered coldly, "I saw her running in that direction," pointing towards the path Fae had taken. With a smirk on his handsome face, he walked away, knowing full well that the woman's father, whom he had encountered earlier, would be furious after what he had said earlier. Punishment awaited her once again.

As he continued on his way, he heard the maids rush off in the direction he had pointed, their footsteps fading into the distance.

69 notes · View notes

asumofwords · 1 year

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: All of your replies, and reblogs, and love make my heart so very full! You are all so sweet, thank you so very much! I wish I could reply but I am a dumby who made this blog as a secondary one and tumblr wont let me reply with this account :( this chapter was so bittersweet to write. Currently writing another Aemond POV chapter from this story since you all loved the last one, and will post soon! <3 Thank you all again for all the love you show this fic! <3

Chapter 40: Tales from the dead

It was as if your body was on autopilot. Your feet pushed you forward as fast as you could go, racing toward the two figures, pushing past the pain in your side, or the burning in your lungs.

There they were. They were real. In front of you.

Home.

And nothing in the world could have prepared you for this moment. You could not think, could not do anything, but run towards them with every bit of strength you had left.

“Y/n?” Queen Rhaenyra’s voice cut across the open air, uncertain as your body ran towards them both.

“Mother!” You cried out, as you got closer.

Your father beside her tensed as he watched you. You could see their faces now, Rhaenyra in complete disbelief and Daemon in shock. Your side ached terribly but you pushed on.

Rhaenyra broke away from the path running towards you, hands clenched in her skirts, holding them up as her Knight followed behind her. You ran as fast as your legs could take you, feet slapping against the cold stone as you got closer to each other, when suddenly your bodies collided together.

You clutched at her robes as she held the back of your head, crying loudly, pressing kisses to the side of your face. You could feel her chest rise and fall, and shake as she sobbed. You inhaled the smell of your mother, and that was when it hit you.

You were home.

The dam inside of you broke, and the tears began to fall. You could be strong for them and you would, but in this moment, you could not hold it back. All of the loss, all of that grief and pain, every single part of your experience flooded out of you.

Queen Rhaenyra pulled you back at arms length, looking at you for visible injury, and to reassure herself that you were truly there with her. Her eyes were dark, and face wet with tears. Those beautiful eyes you loved so much, red and raw.

You smiled through it all as you sobbed, before the voice of your father caught your attention.

“Y/n?”

Daemon stood behind your mother looking at you, still in shock, mouth agape. He was dressed in all black as usual, with the Dark Sister blade at his side. He had large bags beneath his eyes, and even his usually neat hair looked as though he had combed many a stressed hand through the silver white strands.

His eyes were glassy.

You nodded your head tearily at him and sobbed louder before he broke the spell, wrapping his arms around both you and your mother. You cried loudly into their arms as they held you tightly. Your father pressing a soft kiss to your head, sniffing into your hair.

The Rogue Prince pulled back, looking down at you, eyes wild searching your face.

“How?”

You craned your neck and looked behind you to the two brothers who stood watching the teary reunion.

“They helped.” You spoke through your tears, smiling gratefully at the two men whose backs straightened as your mother gazed at both of them.

“It is not as valiant as she tells it to be.” Darras awkwardly intoned.

His brother gave him an irritated look.

“I promised them gold.”

Your mother looked at both of them as they waited with bated breath for the Queen or King Consorts reaction.

“Give them whatever they want.” Daemon purred to your mothers Knight, before turning his attention back to you.

“Thank you.” Rhaenyra spoke to the Dornish men behind you, voice soft as she still held you.

Sumayl and Darras bowed their heads.

“Come.” The Rogue Prince gently spoke to you and your mother, turning as he began to lead you back up the path to the castle in front of you.

You stopped in your tracks, before letting go of your mother for one second, turning to walk alone back to the two brothers. You threw your arms over Darras roughly, pulling him into a sharp hug before gently kissing his cheek.

“Thank you.” You whispered to them both, nodding your head at Sumayl who watched with a softer expression.

“You were not lying.” He stated.

“I was not.”

“Then we are rich men.”

“You are.”

You looked at Darras once more before holding his hand.

“Please do good by her.”

“I swear this to you, as I did before.” The Dornish man smiled, before you let go of his hand, walking back up to your mothers side who held you close, as your father flanked your other side hovering over you.

It did not feel real.

You walked up the path together in a blur, your surroundings flying rapidly as you felt your heart beating in your chest. The halls were still the same, the walls were just as you remembered, and there was warmth from the fires inside.

But there was something amiss.

There was no loud laughter to be heard, nor the racing footsteps of your brothers, nor the recounting of stories in broken High Valyrian. For all that was the same, the castle felt still with the absence of your brother.

There were no books strewn about your chambers as you were escorted there. There were no snacks on the table, half eaten with crumbs left behind by greedy hands. There was no cloak, or coat or jacket, thrown haphazardly on the chair, or chaise, or bed, by a boy who had grown warm by the fire.

The emptiness in the room stifled you.

Your bed had been made, your sheets had been changed, and the fireplace was still lit in your absence, waiting for your return. And although the room was full of your two maids who doted on you, and the Maester and your parents, you still could not help but feel alone.

Even when Joffrey came to your side, and your eldest brother came and gripped you so hard you could not breathe, and the pain in your side caused you to cry out, and all those around you rushed to inspect what was wrong, there was still something missing.

There was no small mop of brown hair in your room. No small boy to laugh at your silly jokes, or listen to your tales of Old Valyria. There was no small boy to eat dates with in secret, or fall asleep beside the fireplace as he told you stories of ghosts. There was no little boy who was scared of the sea, or becoming the Lord of Driftmark.

He was gone.

And with him, a piece of you died.

And as you sat in shock in your chambers which suddenly began to suffocate you, you could not help but notice that he was not there to comfort your anxiety, to hold your hand and soothe you. His cherubic smile was not there to assure you that everything would work itself out.

There was a stillness to the castle that had not been there before.

The brave little Velaryon boy who had stood up to his uncle with a blade was no longer. The small boy who loved so deeply, no longer existed. Your brother was gone.

Lucerys was dead.

And the castle was still.

Your surroundings rushed back around you and suddenly your father was standing before your face, uttering your name softly in concern.

You blinked. Once. Twice. And felt your face wet with tears. You sniffed and apologised softly, as you looked about the room.

Your two maids stood by the fire, stoking the flames whilst peering back at you in concern. The Maester had brought more maids to the room with medical supplies, and had begun to fuss about the table beside you as you sat numbly.

Your mother stood at your side, stroking your hair gently as she watched you with hawk like eyes, whilst your brother, Jacaerys stood beside her, watching you in concern.

“Sorry.” You cleared your throat.

“My sweet, there is nothing to be sorry for.”

If only they knew the truth.

You felt that vile wave surge inside you again, grief clawing its way up your throat as you looked down in your hands. You fought against the tide that surged within, its dark thick crest rising inside of you. You began to drown in it, falling deeper and deeper into its swell as it dragged you down, reality catching up to you.

You had been in survival mode for so long, that now that you stopped, you felt yourself slipping. You sucked in a ragged breath as your ears rang. You cleared your throat again, sniffing as the ringing disappeared and the surge subsided.

The Maester spoke again, in a tone that alluded to him having asked you once, or perhaps even twice already.

“Where are you injured, Princess?” The old man asked.

Numbly you pulled the large shirt from beneath the loose breeches, pulling it up your side as you leant to expose the makeshift bandages that Darras had given you. You felt your mothers hand still against the back of your head.

“May I?” The Maester asked.

You nodded, looking away, eyes fixating on a spot on the floor by the fire. You had sat there before many times. Reading, or drinking or eating with Lucerys. Playing games with him and your brothers. Teaching him High Valyrian, listening to his ghost tales. And despite the spot being before the flames of the fire, it looked cold. Empty.

Still.

The Maester's steady hands began to softly and slowly, as to not hurt or frighten you, unravel the rags from your side.

Time stood still.

Your mother gasped quietly beside you, as the last of the rags were pulled away. The Maester came closer inspecting the injury as you felt the hot gaze of two violet eyes staring at the wound.

Your gaze moved from the floor to the Rogue Prince, who stood in front of you. His hand was clenched on the hilt of the Dark Sister blade, whilst the other was stiff beside him. His eyes were burning with rage as they never left your side, jaw tensed and nostrils flaring.

“Princess,” The Maester began, unsure of how to continue, “These are quite extensive.”

“How?” Your mother blurted.

“Aemond.” You uttered, voice quiet in the room.

A flash of black moved in front of you, as Daemon began to storm out the chambers, hand on the hilt of his blade, fury rolling off of his tense shoulders.

“Where are you going?” Your mother called across the room.

“Where do you think? I am going to end this as we should have in the beginning. With their heads mounted on spikes.” Daemon spat.

“Kepa.” (Father) You softly called out to him.

His eyes flicked to yours as you called.

“Please.” You begged. "I have only just got you back."

The Rogue Prince stood as he made a hard decision, unsure of how to react as he stared at you, watching him in anticipation. The Prince looked at his wife, before back you, and slowly made his way back over, standing in front of you again, watching as the Maester continued to inspect your side.

His gentle fingers prodded at what was left of the stitches. Humming as he softly wiped you with a wet cloth. The cloth stung as it touched your wound and you grunted, flinching away.

“It seems that they treated your injury whilst in the Red Keep.”

You nodded down at the healer.

“You’ve healed well.”

You nodded again. The cloth stroked you gently.

“Though I see you have torn some stitches here.” His finger hovered above the open part of your wound, which had begun to heal thickly beneath.

“New bruising.” The man muttered to himself as he looked on.

“New?” Your father asked.

Maester Gerardys hummed, finger hovering around your side where the stitches has pulled loose, dark bruising blooming from the edges, underneath the old yellowed bruises.

You did not look up, nor did you attempt to.

You did not have the strength to meet your fathers eyes just yet, or recount your days in the Keep, or tell them of Aegon’s assault. Or how you spent days in your room listening to the wails and cries of your aunt at their hands.

Or how you fell into the depths of a storm after watching the brother you failed to protect, be crushed by Vhagar’s jaws. Or how you watched your own dragon be attacked as you plummeted towards the sea below, unable to do anything.

You found that you did not even have the strength to tell them you were okay.

Nor did you have the strength to lie.

The wave began to build inside you again.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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nebulaafterdark · 1 year

Text

More Than Anyone Pt. 5

Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: The fate of the realm lies in their hands. Everyone must choose a side.

18+ ONLY, Targest, mentions of sex, birth and character death.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Aegon dreams of a boy that night, a little babe with dark hair and his eyes. In his children he saw Y/N, but he also saw himself. Aegon hates himself, and only in the beauty of their shared features did he find acceptance and love for tiny bits of him.

This child is Y/N’s through and through. His sweet girl wants to name him Aegon. After the man she so dearly loves. Aegon hasn’t the heart to tell her that she’s wrong. He isn’t worth anything, he never was and he never will be, because he is Aegon. Not a Conqueror, not a King, just a man forever in her debt.

Y/N made him whole, the closest he’s ever been to it. Though he cried himself to sleep, face buried in her neck, Aegon knows he is safe to do so. For he is unconditionally loved.

“Aegon.”

Y/N’s voice is wrong, pinched with the heaviness of tears and distress. It does not match the joy on the face of the woman he dreams of.

“Aegon, please wake up.”

He does. Disoriented and dizzy at the sight of her, fully dressed. The sun has not yet risen but the flame of their bedside candle is lit, Y/N’s face glistening with tears.

“Sweetheart.” Aegon murmurs, voice rough with sleep. Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “What’s happened?”

Her brows pull together, bottom lip quivering as she attempts to force the words out.

“Do not cry.” Aegon pleads, moving to sit, catching her face in his hands.

“I am frightened.”

“Why, my dearest love? Tell me why.” His eyes search her face for any indication.

“Because I am a bastard.” She chokes out, lungs taut; fighting against the air she’s forcing into them. “And a bastard cannot sit the Iron Throne.”

The throne? What of Rhaenyra? “Why would you say such things? Laenor Velaryon was your father, Rhaenyra is your mother. Corlys and Rhaenys are proud to have you as a member of their house. Sure as Viserys is your grandsire. You are my wife, my future Queen.”

Y/N shakes her head, “they will demand you take it.”

“No one will demand a thing.”

“Aegon, please,” she sobs, “you don’t understand. Viserys is dead.”

“My father?” Aegon springs to his feet.

Y/N nods, desperately clinging to his hand. “I’m so sorry, Aegon.”

The Prince blinks at her, is this real? Is any of this real? “Does everyone know?”

“I don’t believe anyone knows, aside from my family and a few maids.”

His heart is beating too fast. “Where is your mother?”

“She is-” Y/N breaks off. “She has begun her labors but…it’s too soon. The Maesters cannot say what will happen.”

“Rhaenyra is strong as she is stubborn. She will come out the other side of this.”

“And if she does not?”

Aegon draws his wife into his arms, “then you shall be our Queen. Knowing it is your rightful place, you were born to be Queen. My Queen, who I swear fealty to. Whom I will not usurp, nor betray, by anyone’s will. Not my mother, not my grandsire; even Aemond cannot sway me. I kneel to you freely and above all others.”

“Are you certain that is your desire?” Y/N swipes the back of her hand over her face, attempting to dry it.

“You are my desire. Your continued happiness and peace. To stand forever at your side.” His palm finds her belly. “I will defend you and our children, from any threat. Naysayers will be put to the sword. And so help me; any man who dares calls you a bastard, any man who so much as suggests that you are illegitimate shall be sent to the wall.”

Y/N nods. “Thank you.”

“My father loved Rhaenyra, he loved you. This line of succession was his wish and in that he never faltered.”

“You were his son, Aegon.”

“I have made my peace with this, Y/N. For all he was my father, he did not like me. He did not want me.” Aegon says with finality.

“That is not your fault.” Y/N clings to him. I like you. I love you. I want you.

“It matters not. For now, we wait for word of your mother’s condition; then we determine a course of action.” It is rare for Aegon to take charge in these affairs, but she needs him now. To be efficient, to be leveled, to be kind.

————————————————————————-

Rhaenyra’s cries echo through the corridors of the Red Keep. Her three eldest children lying in wait, just outside her chambers.

“It’s taking too long.” Luce shakes his head, dark hair bouncing as he does.

“Be patient, brother.” Y/N passes a hand over his curls, “these things take time.”

“All is well,” Jace assures him, though he is not sure himself. Pacing the floor as the noise intensifies.

“Get out!” Rhaenyra roars, to whom the children cannot say.

“She should not be in so much pain.” Lucerys pulls away from his sister. He loves her, but in this moment it is his mother he wants.

There is another howl, a wail, and silence.

Y/N presses her ear to the door, waiting, hoping, praying for the babe to cry.

“I’m going in,” Jacaerys moves her aside, swinging open the door.

“Mother,” Luce rushes past them both.

“I am well,” Rhaenyra pants, exhausted from her efforts. “All is well, sweet boy.”

“Thank the gods.” Y/N breathes.

“You’ve a little sister.” Rhaenyra informs them.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Jace smiles. Moving to kneel beside Luce on either side of their mother.

Y/N inches in, peering down at infant. She does not cry, her eyes wide and searching. She is so tiny, but she is, “beautiful. She’s beautiful.”

“Visenya,” Rhaenyra tells her.

“Healthy?” Y/N makes no other move toward her.

Rhaenyra looks up from the babe to smile at her daughter, “I believe so. In any event, she will not bite, come closer.”

Y/N hesitates.

“Come,” Rhaenyra insists.

The Princess obeys, closing the distance between them to slip in between her brothers. The infant kicks her little legs, sucking a fist into her mouth.

“Would you like to hold her?” Rhaenyra asks.

————————————————————————

“Behind you!” Rhaena points just beyond the children’s heads. Joffrey, Aegon III, Viserys II are gathered with Visera, Dahlia and Laenor in the children’s chambers. “A big scary dragon!”

The children squeal as Aegon II flaps his arms, chasing them about.

The adults in the room know that this is hardly a time for games or laughter. The fate of the realms hangs in the balance of these next hours. But somethings are not for children’s ears and so they shield them, at any cost.

“Save me, Baela.” Visera tugs at her Aunt’s dress.

“I’ve got you, Princess.” The woman takes the girl into her arms. “We’ll need a weapon.”

Joffrey tosses over a pillow, “get him, Baela! Get the dragon.”

Laenor catches his father’s leg, wrapping around as if to scale him. Seated at his foot.

“What are you doing, Laenor?” Aegon chuckles at his son.

“Papa.”

“No, Laenor. Papa is a big scary dragon.” Dahlia giggles, peeking out from behind the arm chair.

The little boy only holds him tighter.

“Now I have a baby dragon.” Aegon reaches down, taking his son into his arms. Continuing to chase Viserys as he toddles after his brothers. Screaming as they scramble with huge grins on their faces.

When Aegon finally claims a victim, it is Joff, tickling him into submission.

“Behold,” Aegon chuckles, “my opponent sues for mercy.”

The door opens then, the Maester stepping inside. “Prince Aegon, if I may have a word.”

Aegon swallows, prying himself away from the children with a forced grin. The news must be grim.

The men step out into the hallway, Aegon closing the door behind him. “Well?”

“By the request of Prince Daemon we have examined the contents consumed by the Princess Rhaenyra at your last supper. Her cup did contain remnants of moon tea, seemly enough to force her body into labor.”

“That is awful,” Aegon frowns, lost for words.

“His grace is looking into the matter.” The Maester assures him. “I rush this message to you, in hopes of sparing Princess Y/N from a similar fate. Until we can determine the culprit of this heinous act, her intake must be closely monitored.”

“Of course, thank you.”

————————————————————————

Visenya clutches Lucerys’ finger in hand, swaying gently in her eldest brother’s arms.

“Soon you will have two more little ones to play with.” Jacaerys tells his sister, fair haired as her father and mother.

“Two?” Y/N quirks a brow.

Rhaenyra is resting on her bed, just a few feet away. Watching her children with a tired smile.

“Yours…and mine.”

Y/N blinks at him. “Baela is with child?”

Jace nods, “the Maester confirmed it.”

Luce nudges his brother, lightly, in congratulations.

“I’m very happy for you.” Y/N beams, they have wanted a child for sometime.

Rhaenyra’s light snores greet their ears.

“We should leave her to rest.”

“Will you have the nurse sent in? I believe Visenya is hungry.” Lucerys says, as Y/N rises to her feet.

“Of course,” She nods. Her brothers are men now, soon to have families of their own. When had childhood fleeted them?

The Princess hails her mother’s nurse before returning to Aegon and her brother’s wives with the good news. Only her husband is missing from the children’s rooms.

“Where is Aegon?” Y/N wonders, greeting her children as they come.

“We thought he’d gone to find you.” Rhaena’s brows furrow.

Part 6

Series Taglist: @sophiexoxosblog @alicentswife @f4ll-for-you @tempt-ress @percyjacksonspeen @zoleea-exultant @midnightrqin @buckystevelove @httpjiikook @neenieweenie @springholland @zeennnnnnn @yelenabeleovapocket @nejiho3 @thatkindofgurl @aemondsb1tch @narwhal-swimmingintheocean

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victoirey · 1 year

Note

hello! i saw that your requests for avatar was open :) neteyam death had me sobbing for a few hours, so i decided to request a one shot where reader was there with him and never stopped trying to save his life. maybe with a happy ending please 🥲. the reader can be whatever you decide (human or na'vi). i think that's it, thank u so much 🫶🏼✨ hope you're having a great day!

♡. "why?" —

synopsis / why?

gn!human!reader | there are alot of crazy things people would to for a dead loved one. y/n is coocoo in this. I'm sorry anon this is so silly I failed you

"I'm supposed to fight with you!" you yelled, neteyam only scoffed. "we're supposed to fight together, that's what we do!" neteyam interrupted you promptly, placing a firm hand on your chest to stop you from moving any closer to the sea. "you are safer on the shore. don't make this any harder than it needs to be, y/n." his tone was firm as he geared up, leaving you on the shore with nothing but a broken heart & an unsatiated wrath.

you were hurt. you were hurt that he thought you were safe here. in Pandora, no where was safe. you were a human, after all— the only time you'd ever be safe would be with him. and you're not with him. you're alone. you're alone, and maybe that works better for you. a part of you hopes you get hurt so that neteyam can feel bad for leaving you out here, and yet you choose not to entertain that thought. even then, you're stuck with it for god knows how long before you hear ruckus coming from the sea. two soldiers swims to the shore,

"get all the supplies the tsahik requested! he's dying! the forest boy is dying!"

the forest boy.

it was an umbrella term, and yet you had a gut feeling. it was bad. it was real bad. you panicked, scrambling to ask what had happened— and what you heard left a ringing in your ears.

"neteyam has been shot."

neteyam has been shot.

god, you wish you never even asked.

the things you do for love.

all you remember after asking is grabbing a spare spear and making a run for it, to the sea, to neteyam. now, you float, in the middle of the battle field — ten seconds away from slaughtering everyone in your way. neteyam is dying. neteyam is dying. neteyam is dying. thats all you can think, thats all you hear, and blood— blood is all you smell. there has been so much blood shed. so much corpses are infesting the water, and—

you hear neytiri's scream of anguish.

neteyam may have joined them.

you didn't think that. you couldn't think that. you just kept swimming. you just kept fighting. you just kept killing any human who tried to pick a fight with you. you ignored anything else. you couldn't think of anything else. you kept hearing neytiri's screams. you cant think of anything else but seeing neteyam smile again. you remember everything you've experienced with him, everything you've ever done together, you remember his kind smile. you realize,

you want to be his. you have always wanted to be his. you can't be his if he doesn't survive, and that just gets you to swim faster, to be more ruthless— to kill with no hesitation. you scream, rage filling your lungs as you charge at the soldier that fell overboard— impaling them on your spear as you cry. you knew nothing but neteyam, once. but now, you know death. you know death in all its forms. you're almost positive you have killed enough in the lifetime you have right now. You just hope Eywa forgives you, and to some extent— helps you.

"Eywa, have mercy on me."

you could've been swimming all this time, for a dead boy.

you just kept swimming.

why?

when you finally arrive, that is all you can think.

why?

why didn't they protect him? why couldn't anyone else go? why couldn't anyone else go? anyone would work. anyone but him. why didn't they notice sooner? why weren't they quicker? why didn't they get him medical help quicker? why didn't they do everything they could to save him? why couldn't he have stayed alive? if not for himself, for you?

a scream tears out of your throat.

except it is not what one would think a scream would be, it is not full of just fear or just anger or just sadness. it's just a scream. it's a scream comprised of every negative emotion because you could've saved him. you could've saved him. you could've saved him. why didn't you come sooner? why?

why?

"my neteyam, my neteyam—" you cried, cradling his dead body like it was worth diamonds. it may have been heavy on a normal day, but right now, it was weightless. tears fell down your cheeks, drying and staining and falling down in blobs of salt. you could only focus on him. you noticed his wound was stitched shut, you noticed the bullet that pierced him discarded. so why did he die? why couldn't they save him? why didn't he live?

you couldn't think anymore.

you should've done the thinking when things were tame, you should've thought to tell him, "I love you" — atleast before he entered his demise.

you couldn't think anymore, nonetheless.

you could only stare at him blankly, tears dripping down and landing onto his face, your lips sealed. your mind screamed his name one last time, and your once sealed lips placed a kiss onto his closed eyes. you hugged him, tight, close, for one last time. "I love you." you whispered, voice hoarse from all the screaming. you were tired, that's what you were.

you laid him down, and you laid yourself down aswell. muttering prayers for your first love, you laid yourself next to him— hands clasped together on your stomach, and you slept.

if you died because of this obviously foolish decision, atleast you'd be with him.

atleast you'd be with him.

you believe you're dreaming once you wake up.

you're still on the battle field, on that same rock, except you're surrounded by the Sullys. they crowd over you, and you realize the battle, at last, is over. you send jake a small smile, he sends one back. his smile is different.

it is a knowing smile.

tuk greets you cheerily, and you wonder why they let a child on the battlefield but not you. lo'ak sends you a grin, "enjoy your sleep, oh royal liege of rockdom?" he teased. you whack him. you miss a certain someone's chuckle. the family seems uncharacteristically happy, after having lost a son. kiri blows a raspberry at a miserable spider. another person whacks spider upside the head, and he gasps dramatically.

you are out of your mind, surely.

because that person is neteyam, with the same stitched wound. you yell out in surprise at the epiphany, it's a curse and you catch everyone's attention. neytiri covers tuk's ears and hisses at you, but you could care less. you frantically look around, hopefully to find an explanation— and you point to a very alive neteyam. "is he alive or are we dead ?!" you yelled, neteyams eyes widen and he holds his stomach , busting his arse laughing. jake smirks at you, and neytiri is the only one with the kindness to explain.

"mawey." she says, 'calm. calm yourself.' you do. "we don't know how he is alive, y/n. all we know is that Eywa has given us a gift, and we must be grateful for it. no questions need be asked any longer." she says, voice even. "maybe the power of your love revived him y/n!" lo'ak adds, only to hiss in pain at the fact his own mother pinched him right after. he's betrayed.

the power of your love... the power of your love.

oh, crap. they know. neteyam told them? neteyam definitely snitched. you look at the culprit, and when you do, he places a kiss onto your forehead. you look at him, flustered and dazed. he can only respond with— "I see you."

the whole family coos. besides spider. spider just marvels at the scene, adding in his two cents a moment later—

you only look at neteyam, lovestruck & stupid with love. both terms work.

"IM SORRY? DID NETEYAM JUST GET HIMSELF A BABE?" spider yelled.

kiri almost pushed him into the water.

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