#he was conscious and screaming in pain and that was my undoing today

[buckybarnesdiaries]

a piece of cake

© @jamesbrnes

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Something happens at Shuri's birthday party that leads to a heated fight.

word count: 3k words. (fuck, it worth every damn word)

warnings/tags: nsfw, +18!!! angry jealous sex, let's start there. unprotected sex, oral sex (face fucking and ridding), fingering, brief daddy!kink, brief praise!kink, language, cursing, handcuffing, mention of bodily fluids, and probably i'm forgetting something else, i just lost my mind. bucky being the cutest and loving man on earth at the end.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

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You had never been so quiet, but you knew that opening your mouth only could cause a storm inside the car, on your way back home. Believing you could have a pinch of luck, Bucky wouldn't notice that something was raving you mad since the moment you watched him letting another woman give him a spoon of cake. Straight to his mouth. You almost choked on your drink, talking to Shuri about how excited she was to celebrate her birthday in New York, when you witnessed the scene hearing their laughs and watching how they dared to touch his metal arm constantly. Your boyfriend was talking with some of his old friends from Wakanda, not even knowing he made friends there. He never said a word about it. Even so, they didn't have the right to flirt with him. Unless he didn't say anything about you.

But Bucky wasn't stupid. Or at least, not like you thought. Gazing you by the corners of his blue eyes, he was conscious that something was going wrong. He licked his upper lip briefly, slowly. He tasted the waters putting a hand on your thigh, which was your favorite gesture while he was driving, deriving with your fingers laced and him placing kisses on the back of your hand. But you didn't move an inch, still staring through the copilot's window with your elbow nailed there and your chin resting on your knuckles.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing”.

Your passive tone and the lie as a response caused him to frown, pulling over the car to focus on you. He turned on his seat and placed a hand behind the headrest of yours.

“Spit it”.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow ironically, looking at him for a second. If he had to ask it was because he wasn't really seeing the dilemma there.

“I'm just tired and I wanna go home, James. That's all”.

James. James. You did it unconsciously, but he didn't take it as an innocent manner of calling him. Unexpressive, the soldier joined the highway driving faster than he used to. You had pissed him off, but it wasn't your problem. He had hurt your feelings with something he didn't give any importance to. The only thing you wanted was to take a shower, put on your comfier pajamas and go to sleep, probably you'd see tomorrow that situation differently than today and you could move on from your insecurities and the jealousy running through your veins.

You arrived at your apartment in record time, keeping the car inside the parking under the building. You removed the seat belt to wear your leather jacket and grab your purse on your feet, stepping out when you were ready. But Bucky stayed inside, just turning off the engine. He didn't have any intention of leaving it, maintaining his hands tightly gripped around the wheel. You ignored him as soon as you couldn't pretend you were just tired anymore. It was the first time something like that happened and you were having a strong desire to throw your guts up.

Three minutes later you were under the warm water with your forehead resting against the cold wall and your eyes closed. Maybe you were overreacting and the rational, mature behavior would be to go to talk with him, tell your boyfriend what made you feel upset. Sighing as you nodded two times, determined to put the cards on the table, you shut off the faucet and walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

“Oh, fucking hell!” You growled because of the scare of your life when you found Bucky already in your shared room.

He had his back supported on the wall, a leg flexed, and his hands behind himself. No expression on his face, but expecting an explanation from you. You were hoping for something from him too, maybe I don't know what I've done to make you feel like that, can you give me a clue? He just stared at you in silence, drying the pearls of water decorating your body before wearing a pair of black panties and your forgotten pajamas instead of one of his t-shirts impregnated on his scent.

“Com'ere”. Bucky whispered, stretching his flesh hand on air when you were about to go to sleep.

“No”.

Well, that wasn't the proper way to talk like grown adults. You crossed both arms on your chest, standing next to your side of the bed.

“What'd you say?” He squinted incredulous, slowly standing from the wall, pretending you hadn't uttered that word.

“I said no, you fucking punk”.

“The hell d'you think you're talking to, darling?”

“To the cretin who let other women flirt and touch him”. You replied with evident annoyance. “Why don't you go to show them your daddy's skills, uh? Sure I can find someone who respects me in the meantime”.

Suddenly, a grimace you hadn't seen before on him appeared like a thunderbolt. You weren't sure if you just made him feel more furious or if you just broke his heart. But before you could figure it out, Bucky shorted the distance between both in two fast strides and his hands gripped your throat and the back of your neck respectively, pinning you to the closest wall and tossing the lamp on your nightstand to the floor. You complained slightly —with his tongue wildly invading your mouth— because of the strength he used to put you against the wall.

You tried to push him away, to not fall into his charmings, but he made your mind blank when his fingers were firmly nailed in your ass and his body was accommodated between your legs. Your fiery provoked a bulge under his pants so painful that in every rock against your core he wasn't sure if it hurt or if it was some kind of pleasure he couldn't handle. Out of breath, Bucky attacked your neck, digging his teeth in your neck with so much passion that you screamed delighted his full name while pulling his hair. That gesture drove him insane, losing the less sanity he had at that point. With just a push, your boyfriend ripped off your shirt to strip you, in anticipation of your panties suffering the same fate.

Bucky threw you to the mattress on your abdomen, perfectly positioned to what was about to happen. He was so eager, so desperate for showing you what he was feeling that he didn't lose time taking off his clothes, just undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans to pull them down to his ankles along his boxers. You heard him spitting in his hand to use it as lube, although you were sufficiently soaked and ready for your Buck that neither of you needed his saliva. He rammed his dolorous erection into your cunt, crashing his pelvis and pressing it against your ass with all his strength, causing you to drown a loud cry in the sheets.

Tangling his fingers with yours and lacing your arms around your neck, putting all his weight onto your back, Bucky pounded you with an insanely quick rhythm, not giving you any chance to mold your throbbing walls around his length. Your pleased vocals echoed inside your room in total sync with the hits to your g-spot. Your body received with every one of them soft cramps mixed with pain and pleasure, making you roll your eyes and tear your throat.

“'S that wh— what you wanted, uh?” Bucky snarled against the back of your neck, totally gone, not giving you a break or showing any mercy.

“Fuck, no…” You replied, challenging him.

He swallowed a rough moan, wrapping his cold fingers around your throat while using the other to pull back your hair and arch your body. “Don' fucking… lie to me, doll… You wan— wanted your daddy to make you… feel desired over tho— those women”.

And yes, he was right. More or less. But you didn't expect him to react like that. Bucky was rabidly fucking you, moving the bed from its position with every angry thrust into your pussy. You knew you weren't going to last for too long if he continued impaling you against the mattress, just like that. But you both had to recognize that it was the best session of sex of your life.

“You were… fucking mad watch— watching 'em touch my arm… your arm, right?”

You whined at the brutality he used to push his hard cock beyond your limits, holding it there as he tilted your head to crash his lips on yours. Bucky devoured them until they were shiny, swollen, slightly ached because of the bit he left on your bottom one.

“If you don't tell me… the truth… I swear I'm not gonna let you come”. The whisper fell into your ear with such a raspy tone of voice, conscious of him being very capable.

“It was… your fucking fault, James. Not… Not mine”. You grunted, feeling him going a little deeper. “I di— didn't let anybody flirt with me… as if you didn't exist”.

That was the truth, but the wrong answer for him. Suddenly, Bucky pulled out his dick covered in your arousal, freeing you from any grip. A pause that only lasted the time he took to grab the handcuffs from your nightstand to place them in your wrists and secure them around the headboard. Now you were under his total control, defying him by strongly closing your legs and frowning at him, panting and sweating.

“Lemme tell you something”. Your boyfriend said, dangerously crawling over the bed till reaching your knees and forcing them to be separated, wide spread for him. “If you think I was flirting, but you didn't see… how uncomfortable I was… This situation is not my fault”.

The tables were turned as he finished his sentence, settling himself between your legs yet kneeling to raise your ass above his lap. “Not so mouthy now, are you, doll?”

You wanted to speak back, to say something after having a second to reconsider the reason why you were so angrier at him when Bucky pushed you down and rammed his dick back to the place it belonged. You forced unconsciously your hands gripped, wanting to put them on him —wherever—. As soon as he handcuffed you, your desire for touching him used to be suffocating. But you were the one who played from the start, instead of telling him how you were feeling about that situation at Shuri's party.

Bucky didn't even let you kiss him, stabilizing you on top with an arm around your waist and his cold hand holding the back of your head. His hips rocked straight to your g-spot once and once, making you lose any kind of control over your body as your boyfriend didn't have any compassion, needing to find relief to his sorrowful erection by cumming inside your clenching walls. You were driving him crazy, maintaining your eye contact at all moments and almost drinking your delighted, obscene crying, aware that only him could cause you to be so dirty.

“Feels good, uh…? You like it?” Your boyfriend brushed your lips with his, depriving you of his kisses or any other touch. “Bec— 'cause you take your daddy... so damn good, baby girl… So tight… so tight you could kill me”.

“Yes, da— daddy”. You whimpered nodding your head. “Only you… can fuck me li— like that… Only you”.

“That's it… that's it, oh, fuck… fuck, doll”.

You saw him roll that pair of beautiful blue eyes to the back of his head, feeling Bucky's thighs tensing under your legs. You didn't want anything else than making him cum, after overthinking about how he felt, and not about what you witnessed. He was right, more or less. He was still being so innocent in those kinds of situations that he used to feel like a scared kid.

You suddenly fell back to reality when the emptiness sensation invaded you. Bucky pulled out his length from you again, causing you to beg in silence for not denying you the orgasm you were about to reach. But he warned you. Bucky asked you to tell him the truth and you chose to challenge him. Letting you sit on the mattress, he flexed a leg to guide his twitching cock to your mouth, not needing to tell you what he wanted you to do. You just parted your lips, receiving him without protesting, curling your fingers when he forced your limits, and positioned both hands on your head. Twirling your tongue around his base as you could, with your cavity completely invaded, Bucky provoked you a strong gag. A gesture that led to his warm seed being spilled down your throat.

“Fuck my life, baby girl!” He couldn't help but howl driven by the pleasure as you coughed and made vibrate his sensitive skin.

Just holding his dick trapped by your lips for a second, he freed your mouth, taking his time to admire you swallowing his cum and showing afterward your tongue. God, you looked so beautiful disheveled, with teary eyes and swollen lips because of the effort.

“Want me to tell you something else?” Bucky asked while cleaning the sweat in his forehead with the back of his arm, taking the small key to liberating you with his free hand.

You didn't reply, not needing to, as he rubbed your wrists to comfort your skin before lying by your side.

“Com'ere”. He whispered, yet trying to recover your breathings. Bucky wrapped you with his flesh arm, rubbing his iron fingers up and down your tense belly, creating a contrast that caused you goosebumps. “'M so sorry for making you feel like that”.

He kissed you. Slowly, passionate, tasting his own juices mixed with your saliva. Caressing your tongue with the tip of his, and no rush. You felt his digits touring down your skin, till finding your throbbing and needed clit. You weren't able to hold back a sweet moan when he circled his fingertip over your sensible pearl, gladly drinking your vocals.

“When I wanted to react… she was putting that damn spoon into my mouth. It felt horrible, doll, I promise”. He murmured, venturing his long cold finger to part your folds and sink it inside you —moaning at the fulfill sensation—. “You always save me from those awkward situations… but you were having fun with Shuri and I didn't want to interrupt you”.

You were feeling like shit, looking at him through your eyelids as he curved a second finger into your cunt and increased the pace of the pounds with his hand made of vibranium. Bucky spread some gentle kisses all around your face, ending with a tender bite to your lips.

“When you told me you wanted to go home, I felt a huge relief… 'Cause that was everything I wanted. Go home with you. Maybe watch a movie… cuddle… fall asleep on the sofa”.

“Oh, God, Bucky”. You wept onto his mouth, as soon as a third finger filled you, nailing his hand in the perfect position to be moved up and down. “I'm so— sorry, Buck… I'm sorry”.

“Fuck, no”. He let out, thrusting you harder, faster, creating a melody of filthy sloppy sounds while your moans were louder and louder. “I should stop 'em, I didn't… I didn't. But I respect you more than anything, doll… I love you with all my heart. I care 'bout you, 'bout your feelings… Can you forgive me? Can you… Can you cum for me?”

You nodded your head running out of words, seeing your boyfriend snaking his body down the bed to between your shaky legs, yet having his fingers knuckles deep inside you. “Keep 'em open for your man”.

The blow to your abused cunt provoked you a lash up to your backbone, landing your hands on his head as Bucky sank his face straight to your center. His digits fucked you savagely, while his tongue took control of your swollen pearl —sucking, licking, kissing, pulling it back—. He wasn't going to deny that pleasure to you, quite the opposite. You pressed unconsciously his face a little closer to your pussy, swinging your hips and riding his mouth when his caresses and his pushes became too much for you.

Bucky made you cum harder than ever, crying his name till you didn't have any strength and you were just a sack of bones under his expert mouth, devouring you and drinking your juices as if it was the elixir of life. And when he was satiated, you glanced at him using the tip of his tongue to trail a path up crossing your abdomen, the gap between your breasts, your throat, until kissing you again getting comfortable on top of you. It was a kiss full of love, and guiltiness, and necessity, and pure devotion for you.

“Did I hurt you with what I said?” You murmured, still enraptured by the fireworks fluttering within your belly.

“This isn't 'bout me”. Bucky clicked his tongue, hiding his face into your sweaty neck. “This is 'bout what I let happen”.

“That doesn't answer my question, Buck… I'm sorry about what I said. I was just… I feel insecure". You confessed stroking his scalp and back with your hands, lacing your legs together. “I didn't mean it. I would never try to… find someone who respects me more than you do. That's impossible. And not talking about how much you love me”.

“I love you with every inch of myself”. He swore, he promised, raising his face to look straight at your eyes. “I can't imagine a life without you”.

“Me either… Your love makes me feel alive”.

Bucky left one last tender kiss on your lips before suddenly standing up and holding you onto his arms to carry you to the bathroom and take a shower together —wash your hair, worship your body again as if it was the last thing he was going to do—.

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader

[cryingoverafictionalcharacter]

Fist Fights and Hickeys

Prompt: Enemies to lovers smut with the teeniest bit of plot. Literally this is just pure filth. Please don’t read if you’re a minor, seriously this is not for you.

Warnings: SMUT! Swearing, Female reader, oral (female receiving),unprotected sex (I don’t have a fun rhyme explaining why that's a bad idea, just use fucking protection! dear lord, this is wizard shit im sure they have magic birth control but we aren't getting into that rn) also reader punches someone early on so violence, fluff and funny stuff at the end.

You walked down the hall as quickly as you could, just wanting the day to be over. It seems like no matter what you did today, everything went wrong. In herbology you dropped and broke a potted plant. In potions, your mixture exploded, coating you and your partner in blue sludge, which was still in your hair, and in divination, your tea leaves literally showed you an omen of death. At this point, you didn’t know how else this day could get worse.

“Hello Y/N” Fred Weasley said, sauntering up to your side. Welp, it just had to go and get worse.

“Leave me alone Fred” You said, irritation clearly present in your voice. You and Fred had a bit of a rivalry, whether it was at quidditch, or in your classes, or with pranks, the two of you were always trying to one up each other, which through the years, has created a bit of a love hate friendship.

“Somebody’s cranky” Fred joked, continuing to walk beside you.

“Somebody needs to shut the fuck up” You responded. Fred was about to reply, but before he could, someone interrupted him.

“Well well well, look what we have here! What happened Y/N, trying to go for a new look” Ethan Hawthorn said, pointing out your hair, which was still blue.

You didn’t answer, you just kept walking, Fred giving you a confused look. Ethan hawthorn was a Slytherin who you had a class with last year. The professor had asked a question, which he answered incorrectly, and when you corrected him in front of everyone, he deemed it appropriate to treat you like you had personally humiliated him in front of the whole school. He basically made it his life purpose to make your life difficult.

“Aw come on Y/N, don’t be like that, it’s nice! It distracts from your face!” He continued, him and a few of his friends now following you and laughing. Upon hearing what he said, Fred went to turn and confront him but you grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“Oh is your boyfriend trying to save you? You probably hired him to be around you, god knows he needs the money” Ethan said.

Next thing you knew, you had whipped around and punched Ethan in the face. It was a bit of a surprise to everyone, including yourself seeing you wouldn’t really consider yourself a violent person. Before you could think about anything else though, you and Fred were sprinting down the hallway towards the Gryffindor common room, Ethan screaming profanities from behind you.

You sprinted to the entrance of the common room, quickly saying the password and running inside, relieved to find it empty. After running for your lives, you and Fred were pretty tired out, both of you walking over to one of the couches and falling onto it, trying to catch your breath.

“You know he’s going to try and kill you right?” Fred asked, turning his head to look at you.

“Worth it” You said, causing the both of you to laugh a bit, before you noticed the pain radiating from your hand. You sat up a bit and examined your knuckles, which were now bleeding a bit. Fred noticed and sat up as well, before gently taking your hand in both of his, looking at the irritated skin.

“You ok?” He asked, skill looking at your hands, which you were thankful for since it made it so he couldn’t see the blush forming on your face.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine” You replied. Trying not to focus on his long fingers gently brushing over the bones in your hand.

“You’re hands are so small” Fred laughed, breaking you out of your slightly flustered trance.

“These small hands can still slap the shit out of you” You replied, taking your hand back and laughing. 

“Here I think I have something upstairs that can help with the pain” Fred said standing, you following his actions and making your way up the stairs to the boys dormitory, walking inside to once again find it was empty.

You walked over and took a seat on his bed, Fred quickly fumbling through a drawer before coming to sit next to you, a roll of gauze in his hand. He sat across from you and gently took your hand again, carefully wrapping the cloth around your knuckles a few times before tearing  off the excess and securing it in place.

“Thank you” You said holding up your hand and examining his work, only to look over and see Fred staring at you, a bit of a frown on his face. “What?”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that guy” Fred said, the atmosphere in the room changing a bit.

“Fred its fine” You said, trying to change the subject.

“No its not Y/N! That dickhead is insulting you constantly, and for what? You don’t deserve to be treated like that” Fred said, standing and starting to pace around the room.

“You’re taking this way to seriously” You said, starting to get annoyed with his attitude. It wasn’t like you and Fred were super close. Hell most of the time you were at each others throat about whos better at what, and when you weren't doing that you were either annoying each other, or on a rare occasion, actually having a civil conversation.

 “I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough!” Fred continued, still pacing back and forward.

“Why do you care so much!?” you shouted.

“Because I fucking love you!” Fred shouted back, stopping in his tracks to face you.

“What?” You asked, not quite believing what you just heard.

“I love you ok? I love the way you make everyone around you smile, and that you’re absolutely hilarious, and that you’re competitive. I love the sound of your laugh, and the way your eyes light up when you smile, and even when you’re being a complete pain in the ass you still-” Fred rambled on, only stopping when you cut interrupted him.

“Fred!” you said sternly, grabbing his attention.

“What?” He asked loudly, breathing heavily from his rant.

“Would you just shut the fuck up and kiss me already?” You asked. That was all Fred needed to hear, crossing the room in one swift motion and closing the space between you, leaning down to roughly push his lips against yours.

Your hands instantly went to his hair pulling him even closer, while his went to the back of your thighs, picking you up and walking you over to the bed, letting you fall back onto the mattress before quickly re connecting his mouth to your neck, biting the flesh there before soothing over it with his tongue.

You moved your hands to his shoulders, sliding them down his chest before landing at the hem of his shirt, pushing it upwards. Fred got the message and pulled away, making quick work of removing his shirt, before his mouth was back on yours, sucking on your bottom lip before his tongue met yours, swirling around in a fight for dominance.

His hands moved upwards, slipping under your shirt to roughly grab your breast, causing you to moan into his mouth. Your hands found their way to his waist, quickly working on undoing his belt. You had almost gotten it unfastened when Fred suddenly pulled away, looking down at you.

“Are you sure?” Fred asked, searching your face for any sign of rejection.

“I have literally never wanted to fuck someone more in my whole life, yes I’m one hundred percent sure” You replied

Fred didn’t waste any more time, quickly working on removing his shoes and pants, while you worked on removing your shirt and leggings, your skirt following soon after leaving you in only your bra and panties, while Fred stood in front of you, his eyes raking up and down your body, you started to feel a bit self conscious with his eyes on you, but before you could move to cover up a bit, his lips were back on yours, pushing you back onto the bed.

His lips started to move downwards, moving from your neck, to your collarbone, trailing wet in between your breasts and down your stomach before finally settling between your legs, looking up ay you before kissing down your inner thigh, deliberately not going near where you needed him most.

“Fred, please” You whined, trying to find some relief.

“Please what?” Fred asked, playing with the waistband of your panties.

“Please do anything just stop teasing- Oh fuck!” You cried, Fred moving your panties to the side and slipping two of his long fingers into you, making your back arch.

“Already so wet for me” He chuckled, pumping his fingers faster. “If you don’t like me teasing then why are you moaning”

You didn’t get the change to reply before Fred's mouth was suddenly on your core, licking a long stripe between your fold before swirling his tongue around your clit, making your head fly back and your hands grip the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, threatening to push you over the edge, but just as you were about to come undone, Fred pulled away, removing his fingers and making you groan at the loss of contact.

“What the fuck Fred?!” You cried, frustrated for being denied your release. Meanwhile Fred was crawling his way back up your body, letting out a low chuckle.

“Don’t worry babe, I’m going to take care of you. But when you cum I want it to be around my cock” Fred almost growled, causing a chill to run up your spine before he reached behind you, unclasping your bra and throwing it to the other side of the room, your panties and his boxers following soon after.

Fred propped on of his arms next to his head, helping to keep his weight off you while his other hand moved to his cock, slipping it between your fold a few times, looking at you for permission, which you gave with a nod, before finally pushing his length into you.

“Please move” You practically begged, Fred waiting to make sure you had adjusted before doing anything.

“As you wish” He teased, a smirk on his face, before he slowly started moving, pulling out half way before thrusting back into you.

You were just about to ask him to go faster, when he was suddenly ramming into you, his head moving to the crook of your neck, sucking on the flesh there, while your hands moved to his back, pulling him closer and creating long red trails as your fingernails desperately tried to find something to hold onto.

You bit your lip, trying to contain your moans, knowing anyone could walk in at any moment.

“I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.” Fred said, sucking behind your ear, making your head spin.

“Someone could walk in” You said back, trying to come up with an excuse. In reality, you knew most of the other students were in class so you didn’t have much to worry about.

 “I really don’t care. You look so fucking hot writhing under me and I’m going fuck you senseless right now.” He rasped out, moving his free arm under your knee to hike your leg up higher, the new angle making you gasp, allowing him hit your G-spot perfectly each time. 

“Oh fuck, Fred- I’m gonna-!” You cried out, no longer in control of the pornographic sounds leaving your mouth.

“Cum for me, beautiful” Fred murmured into your ear, bringing his hand down to rub circles around your clit, finally pushing you over the edge, the knot in your stomach snapping and flooding your body with pleasure.

Fred continued to thrust into you, helping you ride out your high before coming undone himself, resting his head on your shoulder as he came down from his high, slowing his movements before stopping completely, gently pulling out of you and flopping onto his back beside you, both of you staring at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath.

“That was...wow” You started, still to blissed out to think of the right words.

“Yeah... why didn’t we do this earlier?” Fred asked, causing the both of you to laugh, finally catching your breath and sitting in a comfortable silence.

“I love you too” You said, breaking the silence and making Fred look over at you.

“Really?” He asked teasingly, but he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

“Yeah, ever since you hugged me when we won that quidditch tournament last year, I knew I had feeling for you.”

“I knew when you made frogs come out of Snape's pockets for a week” Fred replied, causing you both to fall into another fit of laughter.

“Wow, so romantic” You teased, Fred moving to wrap his arm around you as you scooched closer into his chest, both of you moving under the covers.

“I know, its a gift” Fred replied, making you giggle. 

“Well, I should maybe get going” You said, moving to get up, knowing classes would be ending soon.

“You thought we were done?” Fred asked, stopping you in your tracks.

“We’re not?” You asked, a confused look on your face.

“Not even close” Fred replied, leaning in and connecting your lips again, to which you enthusiastically responded, before quickly pulling away, grabbing your wand and casting a locking and silencing spell on the door.

Needless to say, while you may have had a bad streak during your classes, you most definitely got lucky that night.

The next day you had to get up early for quidditch practice. You had suck out of Fred's room a few hours later without too much suspicion, but needless to say, you were sore. You walked to practice with your roommate Angelina, who was currently talking about something to do with McGonigal's hat, but you honestly weren’t paying much attention, too distracted by last night events playing over in your head.

“But I think she might be hiding something in it you know? Like... hold up. Is that a fucking hickey?” Angelina asked once you finally got to the bleachers, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“What?! No!” You quickly defended, trying to move the collar of your shirt up, only for Angelina to slap your hand away, pulling your collar further down, exposing the dozens of marks that littered your neck and chest, which you didn’t realize you had this morning.

“Oh my GOD! Did you get beat up? Who’s the guy?” Angelina asked with a teasing tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” You replied, trying to keep your cool, digging through your bag to find your water bottle.

You stood back up, looking over to see Fred and George walking your direction. You gave them both a wave, your eyes lingering on Fred for a few seconds longer than usual. They dropped their stuff off a bit always from you, and started getting changed, both of them coming in sweaters.

“Besides” You continued, turning away from the twins, trying to keep your cool. “You have no right to talk, I know you and George are getting pretty comfortable in the room of requirement” You said, taking a sip of your water.

“That’s totally different and- Oh my god?!” Angelina said, looking past you, causing you to turn and spit out your water, the sight before you making you choke on the liquid.

Fred had taken off his shirt to change into his Jersey, and his back was covered in bright pink scratch marks. He heard the commotion, turning to see you covering your mouth trying to stop choking, not sure whether to be horrified or laugh.

“Jesus Fred, did you piss off a hippogriff and not tell me about it?” George asked, Fred suddenly realizing that of course, you would have most definitely left marks. Not that he was completely innocent either.

“Oh that, yeah I fell out of a..... tree” Fred said, making you smack your palm to your face. Sure, he may have been the best prankster in the school, but damn was Fred a bad liar.

Angelina took in your reaction, adding it to Fred's back and your hickeys, finally putting the pieces together.

“You two!?” Angelina said, pointing at the two of you. “Last night when you got back to the dorm late! You were fucking fucking!” 

“Shhhh!” I shushed loudly, making Angelina and George laugh.

“Fred and Y/N, sitting in a tree” George started

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G” Angelina finished, the two laughing and heading off to start practice, leaving you and Fred slightly embarrassed at the blatant teasing.

“Well, we’re never going to hear the end of this” You said, admitting defeat.

“Yeah, but at least now they know. But speaking of  K-I-S-S-I-N-G, you wanna...” Fred asked, moving his head towards the back of the bleachers.

“As fun as that sounds, It’ll have to wait. First I need to beat your ass at quidditch” You said, collecting your gear, looking up to see a gobsmacked Fred looking back at you.

“You are literally my dream girl, how did I get so lucky?” Fred asked, grabbing his things and walking with you to the center of the field.

“I know, I’m pretty much the best thing that's ever happened to you” You said in a serious tone.

“This dicks the best thing that's ever happened to you” 

“FRED!”

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A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed!!!! I didn’t read through this before posting so if theres any grammar mistakes I’m sorry, I literally wrote this at 3 in the morning because who needs sleep when you have Fred Weasley porn. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it, feel free to leave any feedback/recs!

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fic #fred weasley headcannon #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n

[moonlit-mizukage]

Chapter eight: Perfect

Summary: Popular punk band, Skull crusher, had to find a new drummer due to the sudden disappearance of the last one. As band manager and lead singer, Semi Eita’s girlfriend, Y/l/n Y/n brings Kyotani, a rising internet drummer they found online into the picture. Everything was great at first, then Kuroo, the lead guitarist, started getting creepy messages and presents. Y/n is determined to find out who is trying to sabotage the band when things only take a turn for the absolute worst. Who could be the mysterious stalker really be? Is it their new band mate? Or could it be a close friend of one of the members?

Tw; DEATH! BODY HORROR! BLOOD! KILLING! Swearing, police This chapter is the mark start of the murders. I will begin tagging tw blood and tw body horror so If you do not want to see this, please block those Tags!!

Word count: 1.1K

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Third person pov - The Next Day

A loud knock on the door startled Yukie. She got up from her couch and headed over to her door.

“Police! Open up!” They yelled from behind it. She pulled open the door.

“Hello, how can I help you today officers?” She asked.

“We have a warrant to search the place.” The officer flashed her the paper as he and his partner pushed past her.

She went and sat back down on her couch sighing as she picked up her phone to tweet about the current situation she was in.

The police were looking around in the distant rooms. When they reached a door that was locked.

“Excuse me Ma’am, can you unlock this door for us?”

“It's my room for photography. It has to stay dark so the photos all dry out nice.”

“Open the door or we will break it down.” The officer snapped.

Yukie sighed as she got up and walked over to the door unlocking it. They entered the room as she moved back.

Inside the room were about 50 fresh pictures strung out all around. The officers soon came to notice it was all the same person, more specifically Kuroo.

“Why are all these photos of the person being harassed?” The one officer asked Yukie.

“I promise it’s not what it looks like! I have so many of the other band members I just do specific members at times.”

“Come down to the station tomorrow for a lie detector test at 3pm.”

“Yes of course officers.” The two had left after that as Yukie pulled out her phone to text her friends group chat.

 (WRITTEN PART AGAIN)

Yukie was sitting on her couch crying as she heard a noise come from her room.

“Hello?” She asked. She stood up and started to walk down by her room.

She screamed when she noticed a large pile of blood by her bedroom window on the floor with one finger placed in the middle. She turned to run out of the room only to be stopped by a masked figure.

“Where do you think you are going?” Said the eerie voice.

She tried to run to her window as the hand gripped her wrist. She was tossed onto the floor with a hard thud. Something slammed into the back of her head before everything went dark.

Yukie woke a little while later on her bed. She tried to sit up but she noticed her arms were handcuffed to her bed post.

“Hello?? Please let me go! I won’t say anything.” The person reentered her room.

“Oh good, you are awake. I have been waiting for you to get up. I wanted you to be awake for what comes next.” The person moved closer as they pulled a hand saw from behind their back along with some rope. “So you don’t move.” They said grabbing her left leg and tying it tightly to the bedpost.

They stood beside the bed, holding her right leg with incredible strength.. They lined the saw up with her ankle. They began to put pressure down as the blade began to cut through her delicate layers of skin. Yukie let you a blood curdling scream as the person stopped.

“I almost forgot.” They reached into her bedside table drawer as they pulled out a ball gag. They shoved it in Yukie’s mouth as she struggled. Yukie tried to scream now but it was barely audible. “Perfect.” They then grabbed an elastic band nurses use to take blood. They tied it as tight as possible just above where the ankle was cut. The person got back to their spot holding her leg as they continued to saw into her ankle. Yukie was desperately trying to scream and move, but her attempts went barely noticed.

Yukie’s eyes were puffy and red. Face covered in snot and saliva as the person reached the final side of their bone. Yukie’s leg was pouring out blood. The person reached into their bag and grabbed a torch out. Yukie shook her head as she watched the person turn it on to cauterize her wound to stop the bleeding. The person grabbed a first aid kit as they wrapped her wound up to be sure it would stop bleeding enough to make her live through what was next.

“Can’t have you bleed out before we are done now can we?” The person said with a laugh.

They walked over to the other side of the bed now starting on the second ankle just like they did to the first. Yukie was dizzy and feeling herself fade in and out due to the blood loss and pain. Barely awake, the second one fished and was burned and wrapped before she realized.

The person moved now to the top of her bed. Undoing the handcuffs as they knew Yukie couldn’t escape with the amount of blood loss she had faced.Yukie was barely conscious as the masked person began slapping her face.

“Wake up Yukie. You can’t die on me yet, I am not done playing with you.”

Yukie looked at the person almost lifeless now. They tied another band around her arm before they brought the saw up to her hand and began to push into her wrist. Cutting into it deep on the first try, Yukie was trying to pull away but her strength barley even moved it an inch.

By the time that wrist was sawed and they had started the second, the person could tell Yukie was on her last breath.

“Since you are about to die, I will show you who I am.” The person said before lifting their mask. Yukie’s eyes widened in horror as she tried to move away again. The person laughed at her pathetic attempt and began to saw into her again.

At the end of the second wrist, Yukie was lifeless now. The person began to laugh as they stood up. They placed the saw into their bag as they grabbed a large axe. They pulled back and began chopping the body as the blood now began spraying the walls of the room. They sadistically laughed while doing so.

As they finished they made sure to space all the limbs out as they took another bag of blood from their bag and stabbed it with a nearby pen. They made sure only to spray the wall now. The fresh blood dripped down the wall as the killer took their gloved hand and began to write a message. As they were done they grabbed Yukie’s phone off the couch, using her finger to unlock it. They took a few pictures, then grabbed the right foot and shoved it in a box. They wrote on the top a name as they shoved a note from their pocket inside it. After placing the box inside their bag, they returned to the phone. They chose a number off the list and sent the two pictures, one of the wall and the second of Yukie’s body, with a simple message that read;

You were wrong Y/n.

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Previous | Masterlist | Next

Taglist: @satan-ruler-of-hells @elianetsantana @elephantloser @putmeinyourdeathnote @levithansbabygirl @megumitodoroki @idontknow-whatto-callthis @jellyfishsart @freakydeaky226 @atria-avior @doodletingz​ @kac-chowsballs @twistedvalkyrie @ranu-chan @why-couldnt-it-be @thisnoodlewritesao3 @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu yandere #semi x y/n #semi x reader #semi x you #semi smau #kuroo smau #haikyuu horror #haikyuu horror smau #tw blood #tw stalking #tw body horror #tw murder

[lyssawritesfanfic]

the touch i’ve desired

CW: explicit smut reader/Van Helsing

It’s a simultaneously awkward and comfortable silence as the two of you walk home from the flower meadow. Your fingers go back and forth between delicately touching his to having your entire palm covered by his rough, calloused hands. You both continue to steal glances at each other, but whenever your eyes meet, both of you can do nothing but blush and conspicuously look away. However, it’s not unpleasant. There’s something warm and very you about the artless silence you share, almost as if this lack of interpersonal expertise is something you both can relish in. And it’s something that you can relish in for the rest of your lives. After all, Abraham Van Helsing, former vampire hunter and portrait of cool, ruthless calculations, has just asked you to marry him. Well, perhaps it was more of a demand. But it wasn’t a demand you had any intention of refusing. In fact, what he demanded was what your heart most deeply desires. As the thought runs through your head and you walk through the door of the home you’ve made together, you hold his hand tighter, look at him, and smile. Finally meeting your gaze, some of the worried creases around his eyes soften as he smiles back. But you notice that they aren’t all gone. “Van Helsing... is there something wrong?” “No. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’m... honestly so pleased that I don’t even know what to do with myself,” he says as he closes the door behind him, still holding onto your hand. You search his face and know that he is telling the truth, but there’s somehow still traces of... anxiety, perhaps? “I’m not sure I understand.” He gives a signature self-loathing smile. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. You’re far too pure...” He gently reaches his ungloved hand out to cradle your cheek, and you lean into his touch. You love the feel of his hands on your skin. It’s the feeling you love and crave more than anything in the world. You never thought you’d be able to touch anything ever in your life, you had resigned yourself to that, and now... perhaps you’ve gotten greedy. You close your eyes. As you feel his fingers leave your face, before you even realize it, grab his hand to keep it there. “Please... I want you to keep touching me.”

You feel a shiver through his hands and as you open your eyes, his face is fully flushed. “You’re going to give me the wrong idea if you keep saying things like that, you know.” “Hm? What do you mean? I’m simply telling the truth.” “Is that so...” He trails his thumb over your lips and it’s your turn to shiver. For some reason it sends some sort of dull, pleasurable electric shock through your body. You instinctually kiss his finger, but it’s... different somehow. Your kisses up until now have been deep, yes, but still somewhat chaste. “Shall I continue to touch you, then?” his eyes are hazy. His cool gaze has gone hot. “Or rather... can... can I please continue to touch you?” All you can manage to do is nod as he closes the distance, holding your cheeks with both of his hands now and pulling you into a deep kiss. His lips part and yours follow when you feel his tongue gently slip into your mouth. Any tension you may have felt in your body melts. You’re putty in his hands. A quiet moan escapes you as Van Helsing pushes his body towards you. You’re forced to step back a few paces to keep from falling until you find your back to the wall, never once breaking the kiss. One of his hands falls down your neck and lands at your collarbone, sadly covered by your shirt. You miss the feel of his skin on yours. “You... you said you’d keep touching me.” Your breathing is surprisingly heavy. Van Helsing smirks. “Is that what you want, beloved?” “Y-yes... please.” You try to bring his hand back up to your neck, but instead you feel the buttons of your blouse begin to fall away, his hand sliding inside to find your bare skin. If you melted before, you’re melting even more now. You’ve felt the touch of another on your chest before in a clinical manner, but who knew it could feel so amazing? “May I?” “Mmhmm...” He leans back in and places soft, wet kisses on the nape of your neck. Your arms almost of their own volition wrap around his broad, muscular back and hold him closer, gasping for breath. Your reaction urges him on and he completely frees you from your shirt. He kisses farther down now, stopping at your chest, and you’re suddenly acutely aware of the array of gems embedded in your flesh. Before you have time to become self-conscious though, he gently brings his lips to each fragment, kissing them reverently. “You are so beautiful, you know. Every part of you.” He continues kissing down until he reaches your breast. He teases your nipple with his tongue and you cry out a little louder in pleasure, your leg instinctually wrapping around his waist and pulling him even closer. He pulls it into his mouth now, sucking and playfully flicking his tongue back and forth. “A-ah!” He pulls away momentarily. “Do you not like this?” his hot breath tickles your wet skin, sending shivers through your body. “N-no... quite the opposite...” you repeat his earlier words back to him. He holds that nipple between his fingers, coaxing another cry out of you. “My beloved has such a lovely voice for me. I wonder how loud I can make you sing.” He showers attention on the other nipple with his mouth in the same way, yet massaging your other breast all the while. You writhe against his touch but he holds you tight, offering no escape from the overwhelming sensations shooting through you. He now continues lower, kissing and trailing his tongue down your torso while he undoes your pants, pulling them to the floor as he himself sinks down. He stops right below your navel, nipping and kissing, eliciting more uncontrollable squeals from you. But then... he brings his mouth even lower, spreading your legs, and lapping at your parted lips that are inexplicably soaking wet. His tongue enters you and your body quakes. “Ha-aaah...! V-v-van...!” “Ah, yes... cry for me, beloved.” Even if you wanted to remain quiet there’s no way that you could. He pulls your pants off of your feet now, leaving you completely naked at his mercy. And he has no mercy, relentlessly assaulting your senses with previously unimaginable pleasure. You grip his shoulders, fingers digging in, and you feel something rising within you. Something screaming for release. It’s almost painful how good it feels. “V-van...! I...! I’m...” He slides a finger inside you and you come completely undone, your voice reaching places you never thought possible, your legs spasming, threatening to give out, but Van Helsing holds you firmly as you climax, drinking up your juices as if he has been trapped in a desert unable to quench his thirst for decades. And yet he hardly offers a moment of reprieve, standing back up to his full height and biting at your ear. Everything is... so intense... you could pass out from the ecstasy. Your moans are wanton and ragged. You can hear him urgently tossing his own clothes aside, then you feel his bare chest flush against yours, his hard cock pressing against where his mouth just left. “I... I wanted just to give you the pleasure of touch today... and afford none for myself... but... Apologies. I don’t think I can do that. I can no longer hold myself back from you.” “Th-then don’t...” Your hand cups his cheek tenderly as you look into his eyes. Van Helsing... I thought we’d been over this... Allow yourself the happiness you wish for me... You can’t say it with words, you’re much too out of breath, but you hope your eyes can say what your voice currently cannot. He answers wordlessly by plunging himself deep inside you, causing you to cry out once more. He then hooks his arms around your legs, bringing you completely off the ground, pumping hard and fast inside of you. “Ah...! B-be careful!” “Heh... don’t worry... I... won’t drop you...” He’s smirking but the strain in his voice betrays his cool words. He’s not burdened by your weight, but you know that in this moment he has never felt such bliss either. He works your body, pounding you relentlessly, bouncing you up and down on him. You feel that heat rise again in you, but before it reaches its peak, he slows his pace. His strokes turn from hard and fast to slow and earth-shattering. Your back slams against the wall with each one, reverberating through the mansion, and each time you scream for him. “Nng... yes... cry louder for me...” Your wails increase in intensity as he growls his command, not because he wishes it, but because you can’t help but grow louder and louder with each of his excruciatingly blissful thrusts. You reach the edge once again, but this time he speeds up, his fingertips digging into your rear. In a blinding flash of ecstasy, you’re both completely spent, and you feel his own proof of that shooting up inside you. Through labored ragged breaths, you finally meet each others’ gaze. He gently lets you down and kisses your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, sliding out of you. “I... I’m so glad I can finally touch you like this...” he whispers. “Yes... so am I. Will you...” you pause. Is this something you’re supposed to say at a time like this? “Will I what?” there’s a touch of concern in his voice. “Will you... continue touching me like this? In the future? I don’t believe I can handle more now, but...” And then Van Helsing does something you’re unsure you’ve ever seen him do. He laughs. A full, whole-body laugh. “Haha, yes! Yes, beloved. I will touch you like this whenever you desire it. Should I be asleep, eating, on an important work errand... whenever you wish to be touched, all you need to do is ask. And I will touch you for as long as you wish. It would be my greatest joy to do that for you.” His hand comes back to your cheek, your foreheads pressed against each other, and you see the warmest smile he’s ever had spread across his face. You can’t help but blush. “Thank you, Van Helsing. I love you. Let’s keep touching each other... for the rest of our lives.”

#lyssa writes fanfiction #lyssa writes fanfic #code realize #code: realize #code:realize #van helsing #abraham van helsing #van helsing code realize #code realize van helsing #van helsing code: realize #code: realize van helsing #smut #fanfic #code realize fanfic #code realize fanfiction #fanfiction

[zodiyack]

Every King Needs An Heir (Part I): The Beginning

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Fem!Original(Vampire)!Reader

Warnings: Changing the story line of The Originals, i think/somewhat torture?, fluff, swearing, angst, sad stuff, sexual references / implied smut, not proofreading

Note: So a) I’m posting this before i finish the requests because it was sitting in my drafts for a lil’ bit oops, b) I’m posting a masterlist with it because I plan on posting loads more of The Originals heh

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace​

Masterlist | The Originals Masterlist

Part I / Part II / Part III

Cami stepped back, eyes watery, “Oh my God-” As she hesitated, Klaus flinched, but she stepped forward again, to his relief. The past made Klaus feel vulnerable, as it was a time he felt the weakest, soft in public and private, yet treated like a beast. “No one should have to experience things like that...”

“Exactly what I think, darling.” A new voice, someone she’d never met before, stepped out, standing next to Klaus with the same teary eyes as the two of them shared. Her voice quivered as she spoke. “Exactly. What I think.”

“I- uh- Excuse me,” voice crack, “but just who are you?”

Klaus stepped forward, grabbing Cami again to bring her diving into another part of his memories, this time, showing a bit more than him chained up. More than him begging for Elijah’s help.

“Help me.” He looked into his brother’s eyes, pleading with every bit of hope he had left. However. All four Mikaelsons’ attention was drawn elsewhere. To someone Klaus knew all too well, to someone who had been turned with the rest of his family due to the fact that they were sweethearts and she was someone his mother, as impossible as it seemed at the moment, adored.

Y/n was screaming in agony, begging for his father to let him go. She ran up to the Mikaelsons that were present, eyes red and nose snotty. Niklaus could see the hurt miles away, as her voice flooded his mind. The hybrid took in her state of sorrow, slowly processing her presence.

Klaus did not ignore this. After Elijah refused to help him, he began shouting a different request, “Stop her! Don’t let her see this! Don’t let her get hurt! Brother, please! Please!”

Just as his father was about to smack Y/n away, Elijah obliged to his younger brother’s desperate wishes and grabbed her by her waist, pulling her back and gripping her tightly. She hit at him, over and over again, but it was no good. Esther was preventing her as well, with magic, but not for Klaus. It was so Niklaus couldn’t be helped from what they were going to do.

He looked to his beloved in pain, not just his own, but hers. Seeing her, merciless, fighting just to return to his arms and help free him. His heart broke a thousand times while he was forced by his chains and his, currently breaking, heart to watch as she flailed in Elijah’s arms, reaching out to her lover with one hand, while grabbing at Elijah to let her go with the other. His heart was in worse pain than his body was. The hybrid cried for her, for his father, for anyone, begging for help.

She cried for Klaus. Her voice was becoming hoarse after all of her screaming, yet she did not have the intention of giving up. Elijah continued to stand behind her, holding her back with regret and sympathy on his features. He was wounded enough that he ignored his brother’s cries, and to have Y/n involved would be too much. For Klaus, and for Elijah.

Y/n managed to escape, running to Mikael and jumping. She wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. He moved his shoulders roughly, causing her to thrash every which was he turned, then threw her off of him. Her head hit a rock and black filled her vision.

Camille was shown a new memory. 

Y/n lied there, underwater, cursed by her future mother-in-law to remain unconscious until someone were to lift her out. Luckily, Klaus was allowed to, now that the deed had been done.

He crouched by the small hole in the ground, reaching and lifting her with one of his arms under her neck and the other wrapped around her soaked, however still clothed, body. He pulled her with him as he scooted from the water. Niklaus gazed at her face, eyes closed and looking peaceful...somewhat...angelic. He sobbed softly, pressing a kiss to her lips.

‘Please wake up, please wake up’. 

The words were racing through his head. Maybe his mother didn’t actually put a temporary spell on her like she said she did. He was going to pull away, bury her wherever he thought appropriate until he could figure out a way to undo the spell, but he stopped. Somewhat by his own doing- but also somehow maybe not all his own.

A hand came to the back of his head, another clung onto his shirt, pushing him deeper into the kiss, the lips his met dancing with his.

They finally pulled away, and Y/n clung to Klaus. “You- you were being hurt-” she finally looked him in his face. His full face. She studied the look in his eyes as her expression softened, “Oh Nik... what did they do to you?”

He couldn’t bring himself to speak. She had been knocked out before they started the ritual, so she didn’t have to suffer seeing those parts, but he had to suffer living through them. Y/n’s eyes widened. Klaus knew by the look on her face that he had shared the memories with her without meaning...or rather, without conscious meaning.

His eyes met hers one more time before he roughly kissed her again, and rolled sideways, hovering over her. She tightened her hold in his shirt, fighting his tongue with her own. Y/n was still wet, covered in water droplets, from the hole that held her, but both originals could care less. The couple eagerly returned to the largely missed embraces of one another. Their need was not controlled by lust, rather, by love.

Y/n had been stashed underwater for an amount of time she had no knowledge of, as well as watched the love of her life plead for help, and Klaus had been through various ways of pain and torture while his mother and father put a block on the beast inside of him, not to mention struggling just as much as she did watching him as he watched her through a very similar view. They were in no mood for foreplay, nor quick and rough. They missed each other, needed each other, needed comfort, needed love.

When Camille's conscious returned to the present time, she let out a small sigh of relief, obviously from the thankfulness of not having to witness a sex scene from her friend’s memories with this mysterious woman she now guessed to be his lover.

“Oh... Oh my... Both of you...both of you experienced such horrible things... I can’t imagine how- how- how horrible, that was... No one should ever have to experience things like what Klaus had to, or what you had to.”

A small silence, accompanied by the never ceasing tension filled the room. The sadness was lingering, dancing to the water droplets splashing from one person’s face onto their skin, then leaping to the next face, listening to the same melancholy melody repeat form person to person.

“Ahem,” Klaus wiped away his tears, wiped the smile off his face, and returned to his point, “Unfortunately, it’s time for us to be taking our leave.” He nodded to his wife.

“Indeed. Alas, Camille, it’s time for us to say our goodbyes. It was a pleasure meeting you. Take care, alright?” Y/n smiled softly at the confused woman. She turned back to Klaus and kissed him lightly, before nodding and walking out of the room.

“What was that about?” Camille’s voice could be heard from the other side of the door. Obvious hurt and confusion intertwined with the feminine voice, her argument about wanting to help both Klaus and his wife filled Y/n’s ears as she waited by the door. The familiar masculine voice that joined in shortly was much more hushed, bringing comfort to Y/n while she rubbed her stomach softly, and was filled with similar emotions.

“Knowing what you do about this world will only get you killed.” He thought about Y/n and how joyful she was to meet Cami, about Kieran and his love and wishes for his niece and her safety, about the friendship he had grew over time with this mortal woman. It had been a bit since he had considered someone a friend. “And I cannot allow that.”

He cupped her cheek, forcing her to look into his eyes, “Leave New Orleans. Forget everything you’ve learned here today... Forget Y/n, and forget me.”

She cuddled into his warmth, and closed her eyes.

“Love?”

“Yes, Nik?”

His arm came to hers and rubbed it up and down lazily, his nails were what touched her skin, so soothing that goosebumps made home on Y/n’s skin.

“When the little one comes, do you think I’d do what Elijah seems to believe I might?”

“I believe,” she opened her eyes and lifted herself, shifting over her husband and straddling him. She trailed kisses up his torso and stopped at his lips, not fully kissing him, but touching them as she spoke, “that you will do what is necessary. Even if that means killing off all vampires, or witches, so on. As long as you,” She moved to the right side of his face, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “me,” his left cheek, “and the baby,” finally, his lips. She whispered the final part before connecting their lips again and staying, giving him the control he waited ever so patiently for, “are safe.”

“I still can’t believe you’re pregnant-” He chuckled, his breath hitting her soft lips. They rolled over. Y/n wrapped her arms around Klaus’ neck.

“Magic gave me the opportunity and my heart told me to take it. Plus,” Y/n’s hand came to Klaus’ head, shoving his mouth back to hers for the-whatever-th-time that evening. She smiled against her husband’s lips, “you’re a good fuck.”

#niklaus x reader #niklaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus x reader #joseph morgan x reader #niklaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson #joseph morgan #the originals #the originals x reader #the vampire diaries #x reader #reader insert #the originals imagine #mikaelson x reader #mikaelson imagine #the originals oneshot #klaus mikaelson oneshot #niklaus mikaelson oneshot #zodiyack #all readers #vampire!reader #the originals reader insert #original!reader #klaus mikaelson drabble

[justanother-unluckysoul]

Working My Way Back To You 8/11

Killian gets captured. When Emma finally rescues him, he’s traumatized and nearly broken from the torture he endured. Angst and h/c galore as Emma helps him through it.

I tried to go easy on the whumpy side of it since it’s supposed to be for Comfortember, but it’s me so I probably failed lol

I promised you guys some more comfort and here it is! For the prompts “panic attacks” and “exhaustion.” In which our poor pirate has just had a tough session with Archie and finds himself in dire need of some comfort. Thankfully, Emma is close at hand to give it to him. (also chapter count has gone up because these guys need a fluffy epilogue after everything they went through haha)

Unbetad as always so mistakes are all mine.

Tagging @cocohook38 as requested.

Read this chapter on AO3

Working My Way Back To You

Panic Attacks + Exhaustion

Killian gets better. He spends some time on the Jolly Roger, though his fingers still struggle to do much of the finer work on her and Henry picks up the slack with great enthusiasm. He goes out for drinks with David on a Friday night and only imbibes an appropriate amount of liquor, just enough to feel a pleasant buzz and not so much it leaves him hungover in the morning. Killian takes Emma in his arms regularly and kisses her and lets her hold him – though after the disaster of their last attempt, any further enjoyable activities are focused on Emma’s needs, and his trousers stay on until he’s alone in the privacy of the bathroom. But it’s okay. Emma continues to be supportive and gentle and like she promised that night, she doesn’t do anything he’s not comfortable with. Meanwhile, Killian keeps his appointments with Stacy and with Archie. He loves and laughs and lives, and does his best to move forward. But the way to healing is not smooth sailing. Other days every sound still makes him flinch, makes him want to hide away even from Emma. Some nights his terrible dreams have him running to the bathroom to empty his stomach. Sometimes his hand just won’t stop shaking.

 -------

It’s a combination of a bad day and Archie poking at his trauma that finally does him in. His sessions with the cricket often leave him feeling drained, but this is something else – a dark, roiling storm of fear and horror throughout his body as his legs carry him onward without conscious thought. He can’t even remember leaving Archie’s office at the end of their appointment, but the overwhelming urge to get away has brought him to the Jolly’s deck and he can’t bloody breathe. He trips on something and slams onto the deck, hard. For a moment it all stops, recognizable wood under his cheek and his hand steadying, grounding. But up, up his mind screams, wild with fear, and he’s helpless to refute it. He should be feeling calmer now, standing on the Jolly like this, and maybe he would if he could get any of the salty air into his lungs or hear her familiar sounds over the roaring in his ears. The need to hide away lest someone sees him in such a frenzied state overwhelms him, driving him below deck to his quarters before his wobbly legs give out once more. This time he doesn’t have enough strength to follow the commands of get up, Hook! And it’s been a long time now since his subconscious has called him by that name. Killian’s losing himself, he’s going to fall right off the damn world, his head is spinning so much and he knows, knows he needs to breathe but he can’t quite get that message through to his ribcage that seems set on squeezing his lungs. He crawls rather pathetically to the nearest vertical surface to lean against. He fights his body’s instinctive desire to curl up and instead focuses on the feel of the solid thing at his back, legs sprawled in front of him, because he needs to breathe and folding in on himself is just going to make it more difficult. Just focus on where you are right now. Breathe. I’m safe. I’m safe. Just breathe. He’s so single-mindedly concentrating on trying to calm himself down that when his phone jingles, he nearly jumps out of his skin. And that sets him right back at where he started, undoing all the efforts he’d put into slowing his breathing and he bites out a strangled curse between ragged breaths, furious at his own weakness. He tugs the phone from his pocket, fingers trembling so bad he nearly drops it, and squints at the screen. Emma.

“Hey, Killian,” Emma’s voice comes through almost immediately once he presses the answer button, “How’d it go today?”

He doesn’t know how she seemed to sense all is not well and called him at this exact time. He hadn’t thought to ask for her help, but now her voice is in his ear, he’s feeling rather desperate for the comfort she could provide. But the words falter on Killian’s lips and since when did they start tingling like that?

“Killian? Are you there?”

“S-swan, I need…”

Help. Killian’s mind is at war, one side screaming that he’s going to die and the other, a quiet bit of rationality saying he’s actually fine, he’s experienced this before and he knows how to deal with it. Just relax, slow your breathing, you’re okay, you’re okay. He knows what he needs to do to bring himself out of it but dammit, it’s been centuries since he’d been felled by one this powerful and so he’s out of practice, okay? (He doesn’t know who he’s trying to justify himself to.)

“What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“Jolly…” he gasps and that’s all the breath he has.

The phone slips out of his hand. His fingers push into his chest, over his racing heart, as he tries futilely to draw a decent breath. It feels like his heart is trying to beat right out of him, an almost painful hammering that echoes in his ears.

“Killian?”

Emma sounds close. Real. No longer tinny through the phone, although the blood rushing through Killian’s head still muffles it. He startles at the sight of her face suddenly appearing in his darkening vision as she kneels beside him, the flinch making his head smack against the wood behind him.

“Hey, easy, you need to calm down, Killian, you need to-”

As if Killian’s not painfully aware of that fact and doing his best to manage such a feat. It shouldn’t be this difficult.

“Can I… can I touch you?” Emma asks, her voice a carefully steady tone, like she’s panicking as much as he is and trying not to.

Speech is beyond him now, but he nods, a tiny motion as his eyes flutter closed. Emma’s hand is on his shoulder at once and her fingers are tugging his fingers away from his chest to hold onto them firmly, a solid counterpoint to the terrible whirling of the world. It only makes him want to pull away a little bit, his scrambled mind briefly unsure if this contact is safe or not, though she asked and he gave permission. And he knows it’s safe. It’s only Emma. Gods, he really needs to calm down.

“Killian. Killian.” A soft mutter of don’t make me slap you, and Killian thinks he should respond to that strange comment. He can’t though, he’s too preoccupied with trying to get air. “I need you to slow it down a bit, okay? Breathe with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Come on, you can do this.”

He’s probably crushing her fingers right now, Killian thinks dazedly. Last time, he’d gripped the charms on his necklace so hard the marks on his hand remained for hours. The time before, he’d twisted his fingers into a rope, pulled it tight enough that it chafed his skin, desperately trying to find something solid to drag him back to reality as the tempest rattled his mind. Huh. Killian hadn’t even thought of those events in probably a century. It’s funny where the mind goes when it thinks you’re about to die.

“Hey, look at me. Look at me, Killian.”

Oh, right. Emma’s still here. And he’s still not able to take a decent breath. He lifts his heavy eyelids and she’s so close, and so beautiful, green eyes wide with concern for him and her hair framing her face. He’s not sure at what point he’s ended up laying on his back with his head on her lap, but he’s not complaining.

“There you are,” she’s saying, and he’s earned a wan smile, apparently, “That’s it. It’s going to be okay. Take a nice, slow breath for me, yeah? Can you do that?”

Gods, she’s far more patient with him than he deserves. But his breath is flowing easier, her gentle touch and her calm voice quelling the storm within him. She’s caressing his face and he tries to pull his hand from hers because he’s surely hurt her fingers during his episode, but he’s trembling quite strongly now as he comes out of it and she won’t let him go.

“Ssshh, just relax,” she murmurs, soft and tender, “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just keep breathing, just like that. You’re doing so good, Killian.”

Killian thinks he’ll never get over how much he loves hearing her say his name like this, or any other way, truthfully. After so long being Hook to everyone he met, in both title and deed, the way his true name sounds in her mouth sends a wave of warmth through his whole body. It’s not desire or arousal; no, it’s more akin to the pleasant burn of rum down his throat. And what a miserable pirate he is that his only point of reference for how good things feel is to compare them to rum.

“Good, good,” she praises a bit more, and he revels in it, “Nice and slow, that’s it.”

With the calming of his body comes the calming of his mind, his thoughts sorting themselves into a functional order and-

“Swan, did you threaten to slap me?” Killian asks, going for dramatically offended but his voice is still weak and trembly. He hopes his face expression conveys his teasing.

It must, because Emma laughs then, a slightly unhinged version of it, testament to how shaken she too is, and Killian feels a rush of guilt for scaring her like this.

“Sorry,” she says, “I didn’t… I saw it in a movie once. It’s supposed to snap you out of it, either that or a kiss. But I don’t know if it would work.”

“A kiss? Well, I’d not make an objection to that method. Perhaps you could even show me right now, just how you intended to kiss me in such a way that I would snap out of it…?”

Slipping back into the easy, flirtatious banter feels good. Normal. Safe. His head rested on Emma’s legs, her hands on his skin, and now the attack has passed he can hear the water lapping against the hull and occasional soft creak-groan of his ship as the ocean moves her gently. But exhaustion seizes him now, abrupt and all-encompassing like every other time, and his head rolls further against Emma’s palm as he lets out a tired sigh.

“Whoa, are you okay?” she asks, startled at his sudden change in demeanour.

“Aye,” Killian says but he can’t quite gather the strength to move, “Tired. S’normal. I just need to sleep it off.”

“Normal? Killian, has this happened before?”

She sounds angry and he slowly tilts his chin up a little so he can see her. She looks angry too but he can’t fathom why.

“Not for a long time, love,” he assures her.

“A long time? Why didn’t you tell me?” she presses, “Weeks? A month?”

He can feel the weariness in his very bones. His eyes are closing against his will.

“Centuries, Emma.”

“Oh,” she whispers after a moment.

Then her hands are holding him a little tighter as she moves them through space in an instant, and the sounds of the harbour are replaced with the soft growling of a heater and what’s probably Henry rummaging around downstairs. He’s back home. He blinks slowly and takes in their bedroom, warm and cosy and Emma’s still holding him.

“Can you stand?” she asks, “The bed’s right here.”

“Aye. Can you-”

She knows what he’s asking before he asks it, carefully helping him to his feet and bracing him through the dizziness at the change of altitude. He collapses facedown onto the bed once his body allows him movement again, fully clothed but he isn’t intending to move again for quite a time.

“Do you want me to take your boots off?” Emma asks.

Killian nods, eyes already shut again.

“Jacket too?”

“Whatever you desire, love,” he mumbles against the pillow.

She snort-laughs, and he allows her to wrangle his limbs through the removal of his jacket and his boots, and then his waistcoat as well and finally his hook. He’s too weary. He feels as though he could sleep for an eternity.

 -------

He wakes feeling terrible and it’s dark outside, his mind foggy and his mouth stuffed with cotton. The sensation is so strong that he must work his tongue around his teeth just to be certain there’s actually nothing in there. He probably should have had a drink before passing out. Ah, but it’s too late for that now. He’s just gathering his strength to go in search of water when-

“Killian? Do you want some water?” Henry’s walked into the room holding a bowl of… soup? Potentially. Whatever it is, it smells amazing.

Killian doubts his ability to speak with his mouth as dry as it is, so he just nods, and Henry grabs the cup of water from the bedside table – how had Killian not noticed that? His mind is still a little foggy, it seems. He sits up slowly and gratefully takes the cup that Henry gives him. The water feels wonderful, cool and fresh, and his thirst is only barely slaked once he’s downed all of it.

“Thank you.”

“Are you hungry?” Henry asks, “We made soup. But my grandparents are here for dinner, so… Do you want to come downstairs? Or you can eat up here if you want to.”

The weariness has somehow now morphed into a full-body ache, despite the hours of sleep he’s just had, and he doesn’t think he’ll be very good company in this state. He says the last part of his thoughts to Henry, who nods in understanding and sets the bowl of soup on the bedside table.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No, I’m alright. Thanks, Henry,” Killian says with a grateful smile.

“Ok.”

Henry smiles back before leaving the room. Killian hears him taking the stairs two at a time, and Emma half-heartedly admonishing him for it. The smile doesn’t leave his face as he takes a mouthful of the perfect soup, gently spicy and warming him all the way to his toes. Emma obviously had some help with the cooking tonight – she’s good, but not this good. He must remember to thank Snow White later.

 --------

Archie had called her, Emma tells him when she comes up to their bedroom after Snow and David have left. That’s why she’d called Killian when she had, checking to see if he was alright.

“He just wanted to make sure you were okay,” she says, her fingers absently brushing through Killian’s hair as she sat on the bed next to him, “He said you left his office in a hurry and he was a bit worried about you.”

He remembers back in the hospital when he’d woken, disoriented and panicked, and she’d used this same method to calm him, gentle pressure and the tiniest scrape of her nails against his scalp as she worked her fingers through his hair. It had been comforting then and it was comforting now. After his meal, Killian had gathered the strength to ready himself for bed properly, but that small amount of energy is depleted again now. And if Emma’s not careful, he’ll go right back to sleep before this conversation is over, his belly comfortably full and his tired muscles coaxed into relaxation by her affections. He tries to rouse himself a little more. It’s not really working.

“He’s… that was good of him, I suppose,” he says, voice rough with the sleep he so desperately wants more of, “It’s just… My mind got a bit… stormy. It does that from time to time, and I didn’t want anyone to see me in that state.”

He can’t help the hint of loathing in his voice. Now that Killian’s had some time to think on the events of the day, he’s rather mortified that Emma had witnessed his moment of vulnerability. It would have been better if she hadn’t shown up, then it’s likely Killian would have blacked in his quarters and woken sometime later, once his mind had settled. It had happened that way before. And then nobody would have known how pathetic he really is.

“Did you tell him what happened?” he asks, trying to keep his mind on the present.

Emma’s fingers in his hair are helping to anchor him here, though they’ve stopped moving, just settling amongst the dark strands instead.

“Yeah. Was that… was that okay?”

No.

“Aye.” He’s lying through his teeth and Emma can probably tell. “I suppose he should know.”

“He wasn’t really surprised to hear about it, anyway. He said you guys went into some pretty dark topics today.”

Killian’s breath hitches, and his hand curls reflexively into a fist.

“Is that all he said?” he asks carefully, and he looks intently at her for any sign she’s not being honest with her answer.

“Yes. Don’t worry, Killian. I’m not going to hear any details from him, and I wouldn’t ask anyway. Patient-doctor confidentiality and all that, you know.”

Of course. He does know, logically, that Archie would never share with anyone what Killian tells him about those two weeks in captivity, not even Emma. And he knows Emma would never ask Archie to do so either. But still, Killian can’t help that little thrum of fear in his heart.

“But if you ever wanted to talk to me about any of it, I’m willing to listen,” Emma says quietly.

Killian’s mind cries yes and gods no in equal parts. The two sides of him wage a brief but intense battle on the other, one wanting to open up to this beautiful woman who cares so deeply about him, but the other part wanting to hide away all the hurt in some dark corner of his soul.

“Perhaps one day,” he compromises, “But it wasn’t… I don’t want you to have those images in your mind, love. It’s bad enough having them in my own.”

“I’m the one that found you in the cellar, remember? I know what they did to you.”

Killian swallows, hard.

“It’s one thing to see the aftermath of that sort of situation, Emma. Quite another to hear the details of how it was done.”

She nods once.

“It’s okay. I get it.”

They don’t talk for a long moment, but the silence is far more tranquil than any sort of awkward. Emma resumes her soothing motions through his hair, fingernails occasionally scratching lightly at his scalp. His hair has got to be sticking up all over the place by this point and he knows it’ll take more than a little combing in the morning to get it tamed again. Killian’s just about to drift off to sleep when Emma finally speaks again.

“Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m okay,” Killian mutters, his words coming out a little slurred, “But I wouldn’t mind having you under the covers.”

Emma chuckles, her cheeks getting a bit pinker. Oops.

“To sleep, Emma,” Killian specifies quickly, because he’s definitely inadvertently dropped a potential innuendo in having you, but he is bloody exhausted and he really didn’t mean it that way, for once, “But I can have you the other way in the morning, if you like.”

“Sure,” she says with a grin, “Let me get ready for bed and I’ll be right back, okay?”

He loses his fight to stay awake while she’s brushing her teeth and slips into a deep, dreamless slumber. He wakes with the sun, like he so often does, and feeling much improved, with Emma sleeping pressed against his side and her arm across his chest like she’s trying to hold him in place.

to be continued...

#comfortember 2020 #cs ff #cs fic #killian whump #ptsd #panic attacks #hurt/comfort #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan #my fanfics

[the-winter-witcher]

🥀 Destiny Destroyed

It's been five days since you've last seen Jaskier, since he'd practically run through the door to get away, and he hasn't tried to make contact with you since. Of course he'd sent a 'protective detail' to keep an eye out for you and provide you with some necessities for your stay but that had been it. Each time the door opened and someone other than him walked through you could feel anger, rejection, betrayal all bubbling in your veins, but more worrying was the afterglow of relief that washed over you each time. But no, now wasn't the time to dwell on it, not while Geralt still remained unconscious by your side.

You’d spent the last few days rarely straying from your seat next to him, clasping his hand firmly in yours as you repeated the same redundant apologies over and over again like a mantra, as though stumbling through the same words would somehow make them ring true and he’d suddenly be awake and back in your arms, as though they would heal the wound in his chest and undo where you’d ripped him apart. 

Nurses had been coming and going several times a day to check various charts and equipment but not actually giving you any information, only that he was stable for now and that they would need to continue to monitor the situation, and it seemed like today was going to be no different than usual. You’d been dozing throughout the day as you sat by his side and were now comfortably resting with your head on his bicep so that you could be as close to him as possible, you told yourself it was for his protection but really it was so that you could try and cut through the clinical antiseptic stain that coated each breath you took to try and find a little bit of him underneath it all. You thought, if you concentrated hard enough, that you could pick up the soft notes of citrus from his cologne- Jaskier’s cologne- the ripe sour sweet fragrance that makes your mouth water.

A loud beeping startles you from the sleep that you didn’t even realise you were in and you can feel panic rapidly swelling in your chest as you rub the sleep from your eyes and try to locate the source. Before you’re even fully awake and on your feet there are two nurses in the room and you’re being ushered out, feet dragging as you strain to see what’s happening to no avail.

“What’s happening, is he okay?” 

“You need to move, please”

“I need to know what’s happening, please!”

“Clear the room. Now!” The nurse’s tone leaves no room for argument as she pushes past you and you find yourself standing outside the room before you’ve registered what’s happening. 

Time seems to simultaneously stand still yet rush past as you watch through the window; two nurses become four, his gown is now open and two cold metal plates are pressed down and no they’re too cold, too cold, he’ll be freezing what are they thinking! You’re not even conscious of your shaking hands typing in Jaskier’s number, you don’t hear yourself scream at him that you need him, you don’t feel yourself sink to the floor. All you’re aware of is the hospital bed that goes rushing past you.

Jaskier finds you curled up in the same spot on the floor when he arrives an hour later. Your eyes are glazed over and you don’t acknowledge him at first as you stare straight ahead. The tears have long since stopped but your eyes are sore and red rimmed from exhaustion and the tracks marked out by your sorrow are well worn, etched into your skin by salt and pain. He doesn’t say anything as he reaches his hand down to help you up before pulling you in for a hug, but you just hang limply in his embrace rather than return it.

“I’m sorry, I should have been here…” the words roll over you as he speaks them and you don’t respond, “please talk to me, I’m sorry. I’m sorry”

“Where have you been?” you pull away and finally look at him; he reeks of alcohol and smoke, the bags under his eyes accentuated by guilt and sleeplessness. He has the same disheveled clothes on that he left in and you notice a dark mark on his neck. 

“I needed to clear my head. I made a mistake and I was scared and I ran” his eyes don’t meet yours and his words are halfway between a mumble and a slur. You want to be angry with him, you want to scream until your lungs burn and he understands just how utterly broken you are, how broken he has made you, but you don’t. This is your fault. You did this with your actions. You led him here.

“Okay”

“That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say Jaskier? I’ve spent five fucking days sat here waiting for him to wake up and now he’s been taken away and it’s all my fault. All of this is my fault. Do you want to hear again how I wish it was me instead? Or do you want to hear me tell you what happened between us was okay because it was the least that I deserved? Or perhaps you want to hear that I’m happy that for the last five days you’ve been out drinking and smoking and evidently getting laid because the last thing that you deserve is to be tied down to me after what I’ve done. Is that enough?” 

“Angel…” 

“I shouldn’t have called you-”

“Stop. Please, please, listen to me” he cups your face gently and pulls your chin up to look him in the eyes, “I made a mistake. Not you. I’ve been staying away because I don’t know what to say, I still don’t, but you needed me and I came. I can’t take it back, god knows I wish I could, but I can’t. And I don’t know how to move forward but for now I am here and I will be here as long as you need me” 

You’re not sure when both of you started crying but you finally hug him back, your head finding the familiar resting place in the crook of his shoulder as he holds you close to him. 

“I’m sorry-”

“No more, sweetheart, no more apologies are needed. You’re okay” you’re surprised by how soothing you find his words as you seek comfort in his arms, though the prickle of unease still lingers in the pit of your stomach knowing how easy it was for him before to slip from the sweet and supportive partner to something darker. You fight back the thought as he presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head and try to focus on the present. 

“He’s been gone for an hour Jask, I’m worried. It didn’t look good”

“Wait here, I’ll go find a nurse. Sit down and drink some water for me, okay? I won’t be long” you nod as you watch him hurry off in search of some answers before slumping down in a chair and closing your eyes again. You’re greeted with visions of red and Geralt’s eyes and Jaskier’s face twisted beyond recognition as you fall again.

“I need you to wake up, sweetheart, please”

“What? How long has it been?”

“Another hour, you were asleep when I got back and I didn’t want to wake you unless I had any news. The doctor wants to speak to us, come on” his hand is shaking as he leads you towards the ICU and yours isn’t much better. If they were talking to you here and not in his room then, fuck, no no no.

“Jask, Jask I can’t. I can’t. Please” panic is clawing at your throat as you get closer and you can’t stop it from bubbling over, falling from every pore of your body in torrents of fear that you can’t hold back anymore.

“I need you with me, please my love, for me” 

“Okay, okay, I’m here” you squeeze his hand in what you hope is a reassuring way as you enter the room, though tears are already falling and panic is still flooding your lungs. 

You daren’t look at the doctor as he greets you both, instead you try to focus on the feel of Jaskier’s hand in yours, the familiar sound of his voice, and the spicy scent of scotch that clings to him as you try to keep yourself grounded. 

All you can hear is the drone of the doctor’s voice as he explains to Jaskier but you can’t allow yourself to focus on them, couldn’t even if you wanted to, or at least that’s what you tell yourself until you hear- 

“Do you want to see him?”

“Yes” you swallow down the lump in your throat as you answer, fighting back the tears that are threatening to spill. As though there was any other answer that you could give. As though you would say no. 

“You can spend as long as you need with him, I’m so sorry for your loss” he says, as though he could possibly understand what you were going through right now. Jaskier hasn’t let go of your hand but you can feel the way his body is shaking with the force of each sob, or perhaps it’s you that’s crying, you’re not sure. All you know is that you need to see him. You can’t rest until you do. You needed to see what you had done. What you had done. You. Nobody else. You’re not sure how you manage to make it to the room he’s being kept in, your feet barely able to keep you upright as you wander the corridors behind the goddamn useless doctor, no, no it was your fault not his, until you end up at the door to the room he’s in.

Cold.

That’s all you can think as you look at him. Not peaceful. Not content. Cold. Gone. Your fault.

His silver hair has been brushed back neatly and he’s covered in a blanket- as though that will help- and god he’s so still. You’d thought he’d been still before but this was something entirely different. Lifeless. Empty. 

Red clouds your vision as though taunting you, red, his blood, as though screaming at you that you could never put it back. You stole it. You spilt it. And now he’s gone.

“Jaskier-”

“He’s really gone” you can barely hear him, his face etched in horror as he looks at Geralt’s empty shell, tears falling like silent pleas to bring him back, “he’s, he’s gone. He’s gone. Gone”

If you’ve read this, congrats! So, surprise, it’s not canon. I’m just fucking with you! Please don’t ruin it for anyone else, I have a canon version ready to upload on Friday. Surprise, enjoy the chaos xxx

#🥀 #flowers of evil #tw hospital #tw surgery #angst #tw character death

[just-call-me-johnny-archive]

The following contains mentions of Christmas, blood, injury, hints at past trauma/abuse, and a semi-detailed panic attack. Reader discretion is advised.

It's a normal day. It's not Christmas. Christmas doesn't exist in space.

It's rather early. Dwight and Leera are still in their own room, probably sleeping. The interior lights in the ship are still dim, and the hallways are still silent and barren. Not even the staff are up at this point, and it's times like this that remind Johnny he never needed a bedroom. And yet, here he was.

He rolls over under the covers, which are larger than he needs in a bed that could fit about ten of him. The room should be cold, but it's not. It's also not hot or overly warm. Much like the rest of today- it just is.

It's a day. This is a room. He is here.

Johnny hadn't been sleeping, but the weight of the blankets had lulled him into a sort of half-conscious state. He was in that comfortable space between slipping into sleep and being just aware enough of noises that one might imagine they're hallucinating when they hear a misplaced sound among the otherwise silence.

The smaller man is curled into a ball, facing the window in his room, watching the stars go by until he hears a knock at the door. It's three stretched out raps and then complete quiet.

He slowly turns over, staring at the door for a moment, wondering if he'd imagined the whole thing. Johnny doesn't hear the sound of feet walking away or of voices drifting down the hall. He can't imagine that Dwight or Leera would just knock a few times and give up. Especially not Dwight, who seems to be hyper-aware of Johnny's lapses of isolation and nonresponsiveness.

Eventually, curiosity wins out, and Johnny pulls off the covers, walking around the large bed to the door. He opens it and finds that the entire hallway is just as he imagined. The lights are low, and the only note is the white noise of technology whirring in the background. He's about to head back inside when he sees a small, rectangular box on the floor near his doorframe.

The box is white with a stark red bow around it. After a moment, Johnny carefully takes the gift into his hand and shuts the door behind him. It's been a while since he's had gifts. The room he's in currently and the clothes in his closet were surprises that he hadn't seen coming. He can only imagine what might be hidden in the confines of the container as he climbs back onto his bed with the present in hand.

He undoes the ribbon, and it falls and pools like blood on the top of the black of his bunched up sheets. Johnny flips off the lid and is immediately hit by the sight of deep maroon.

Instead, this is a sort of color that he hasn't seen in a while, and he feels his heart drop down to his stomach.

One would imagine him to chuck the box, start screaming, maybe break down, but the pure terror he feels is paralyzing, and despite his better judgment, he shakily reaches for the perfect fold of the hand towel.

It feels just like he'd remembered- cheap, Earth cotton. He unfolds one side and then the other, anxiously unwrapping until finally, he discovers what he'd been unwillingly searching for.

The unassuming tool is nestled amongst the cloth, and he pulls it out, his hands tremoring. The stainless steel of the straight-edge is unmistakable. There's not a single sign of use or handling. No fingerprints have dulled the shine of the blade, and his own horror-stricken face is reflected at him until he sees something come up from behind. His body goes frozen, blood running cold in his veins as the figure draws nearer.

There isn't a face to match the body, but Johnny already knows. He's known for a while. Suddenly, the sound of the shoes smacking against the floor stop right behind him, and he flinches at the feeling of a face drawing closer towards his side. The smell of nicotine is heavy in the air, and Johnny feels faint and ill and like ants are running along his arms and face. His heart may stop any minute.

"I see you got my gift."

A shiver, like a convulsion, builds up the smaller man's back as he tries to physically disappear by being as still as silent as dead as possible. He watches as a black butterfly drifts lazily onto the shaking steel in his clammy palm. He watches the antennae twitch for a moment, and all he hears and feels is Vargas breathing into his neck, feeling the sensation of a hand moving in to trace along with the lines of his shoulder blades.

"Swallowtail."

Johnny shouts and takes the blade into his hand, clutching the handle with a vice as he goes to stab the blade right into the man's eyes. As he stands with the razor in his fist he realizes he's alone and he'd grabbed the wrong end of the weapon, blood is leaking out of the sides as he finds it hard to breathe correctly. It drips onto the floor as he backs into the door, looking all around himself, his fist not once uncurling despite the pain radiating in his fingers and palm.

Finally, his back hits the door, and through the panic, his vision is back as he stares out into an empty room of blacks, grays, and blues. On the bed, a box that's white as snow with a blood-red ribbon sits ominously in his place.

Johnny shakily uncurls his hand from around the straight-edge, finding that in its place, there's a dead butterfly. Its wings are crushed like leaves and shredded in two. It's a swallowtail.

He yelps and throws the creature- instead, a loud metallic clank resounds instead and the bloodied blade is what ends up on the floor.

Johnny sits there at the bottom of the door, shaking as he holds his injured hand to his chest, eyes darting around the room, at the blade that's now at the foot of his bed- the box- and the window. After a moment, the tears start to fall slowly as the trembling worsens, and he clenches both fists, ignoring the slick feeling of blood that stains his fingers as he instead focuses on the red rings of tension around his knuckles.

Now, it's certain. Vargas found him, and he wasn't going to stop the tormenting until he was as crushed as the butterfly that he keeps seeing when he closes his eyes and leans his spinning head against the coolness of the door. He can't find it in him to get up from the ground despite the knocking that he hears at the door after a while. He just keeps staring at the razor, knowing it's an omen. That it's only a matter of time. That he's run out of time.

#tw injury #tw trauma #tw panic attack #tw dissociating

[trying-write-fanfics]

OverhaulXReader part 42 (E)

“I hate you.” Shigaraki said, kicking Overhaul in the stretcher. “Tell me again who the next leader is going to be?”

“Have you come to kill me?” Overhaul asked just above a croak. 

“No, I thought of something you’ll hate even more than that.” Shigraki said. 

 Overhaul was barely conscious. The events of today kept repeating his failure to escape. How he told Pops it was going to get noisy. It was that Lemillion and then that green kid. Overwhelmed, Overhaul did just about everything, but he couldn’t reach those two young heroes to destroy them. Restraint, unable to move. What more could the villain do to him? It was dying here or rotting in prison. 

“I hate you truly.” Said the deranged man. “You’re so full of yourself.”

Mr. Compress marbleized Overhaul’s left arm. What 

next his leg? His head? He was a husk of a man. He wanted it all to be over. Laying there, strapped down felt like an entirety. They were going to pull him apart and squeeze him out, weren’t they? It did hurt, but he was an empty man. His body was exhausted using himself to max potential over and over even if what seemed like a year long battle was only an hour max. He was lost for reactions.

“Two little boxes, which one holds the finished product?” Shigaraki asked, holding the blood bullets. “I’ll just take both.”

“That’s mine.” Reality was setting in. 

“You know what I think, Overhaul?” Shigaraki asked, loading the gun. “Why not test this on yourself?” He asked shooting Overhaul in the shoulder that still had an arm. 

 Overhaul breathed heavily as he felt the pill doing something to his body. He wasn’t going to be able to save the people closest to him! Shigaraki was taking all of his hard work that he sacrificed so much for! 

“But what’s even more-“ Shigaraki began to speak, but the unthinkable happened. 

Someone had climbed on the high way they were on and attacked Shigaraki. The attack didn’t land but they backed up. The attacker stood between overhaul and Shigaraki. 

“It is I- none of your business!” He yelled.

“Get him!” Shigaraki yelled. 

 Shigaraki came for the attacker and then a loud noise erupted. The attacker took out a smoke bomb and began undoing Overhaul. Overhaul recognized it was one of his men saving him, but couldn’t concentrate without a mask. There was more yelling and sirens, but it didn’t matter. Shin had already carried Overhaul off the bridge and into his car below. He loaded Overhaul in the back seat and escaped. 

“Why did you come to save me?” Overhaul asked with a hoarse voice. 

“C’mon don’t be like that, it’s me, one of your valuable expendables!” Shin laughed with the gas mask on. “I was late again today, but turns out my bad habit saved your ass!”

 Shin Maturo. He was a thief and an escape artist. He wasn’t much trouble to the Yakuza, but when Overhaul recruited the young man, he was in the middle of trying to escape his own life. He confessed he was done with running but wasn’t ready to face the consequences, he would be escaping the police one last time and would never be caught. With his charm, Overhaul asked if he wanted some security instead, a different purpose of seeing an entirely new future. Shin agreed and was with the Shie Hassakai ever since. He was a devoted follower, but was always late to things. Though it bugged Overhaul, Shin was ever out on anything too important, just being a thief and distracting police officers. 

“I don’t think there is much saving left for me.”

His left arm was bleeding too much, and his right arm was too numb. Overhaul’s body felt more like a prison. 

“Don’t say that! Don’t ever day that SIR! You had the gull to get into my business on whether I can or cannot throw away my life, so neither do you!” Shin got angry. “I know you’re not going to kill me, let me just get you out of here.”

Shin went to a pharmacy and picked up a first aid kit. He tried cleaning the wound the covering it, but he wasn’t sure what to do next. Overhaul was losing consciousness again as he couldn’t really do much in his situation laying in a back seat of a car.

“Oh shit it says on this google search to keep your feet up. Just keep breathing boss! And stay calm!” Shin said. “I’m letting you bleed all over this car. 

There was not one comment out of Shin’s mouth that was helping. Though he kept wanting to black out he would be jerked back awake again. Shin tool Overhaul to a shady vet to dig the bullet out of his shoulder. It was agony and he couldn’t do anything. The vet even checked out the stub on the other side giving it some proper care.

“I’m not even a real vet. The city took my license away.” The vet told Shin. 

“That sucks what happened?”

“I was selling horse meat and calling it beef.”

“Oh that’s dope, did you at least make a lot of money?”

“Well…” the vet said, applying the damp cold cloth to the wound which caused Overhaul to bite down on the chew toy they gave him to prevent screaming. “I tried to buy a car but they didn’t like my credit score.”

 It was the worst day. The bleeding had stopped but the pain still remained. He wished he could just die, but Shin had a point to give him hell before death. Around noon, Shin managed to get Overhaul to a beach cabin. It was secluded and looked a little abandoned. He helped carry Overhaul to the couch. 

“You look like hell.” Shin said. 

Overhaul didn’t respond. 

“I can keep you here while you recover. It’s my sister’s place. She’s not coming here anytime soon doing an eat pray love sorta thing out of the country.” Shin explained. “Listen man, I don’t know what you feel or what you’re going through, but I didn’t want you to die. You were a dick, but without you stopping me from ending it all, I would have never been able to live the life I have now and it’s one of the best things. I wanna help you, I really do.”

Overhaul’s eyes stayed still. He was in so much pain, it was all he deserved. He was the loser. His fingers flinched as he felt the other little box in his pocket. Y/n… what was she doing now? Probably at work. She was probably scared shitless last night, and today would be no better for her. Finding out her boyfriend’s place was raided, then he was attacked on the way to the hospital and is currently missing. Who knows if she found out about any of that yet. Y/n was still alive, and not in a coma. Pops may pass and never be able to receive the debt he was owed, but Y/n would be forever disappointed. She won’t even understand why he disappeared if no one tells her. He choked on the thoughts. 

“I’ll let you rest now. Just stay here and rest.” Shin told him, bringing Overhaul a blanket.

Overhaul eventually blacked out. His heart still beating.

#chisaki kaixreader #chisaki kai #overhaul #overhaulxreader #bnha #bnha fanfiction #xreader

[dwhumpster]

Whump compilation: Grey’s Anatomy

This is a comprehensive list of whump in Grey’s Anatomy.

List established as of 15x25, series ongoing.

Characters

Alex Carev (Justin Chambers)

2x08, “Let It Be”, slapped

4x02, “Love/Addiction”, punched in the face, knocked out

4x17, “Freedom: Part 2”, tears, comfort

5x17, “I Will Follow You Into The Dark”, anxiety, hands shaking

5x19, “Elevator Love Letter”, upset over his partner who has cancer

5x22, “What a Difference a Day Makes”, tears, worry for his partner who has cancer

5x24, “Now or Never”, worry, tears, partner crashes

6x01, “Good Mourning”, partner nearly dies in his arms, tears

6x07, “Give Peace a Chance”, tears

6x19, “Sympathy for the Parents”, friends discover he spent his childhood in and out of foster care, fight, nosebleed

6x23, “Sanctuary”, shot, blood, drags himself around, heavy breathing, spasms, rudimentary operation

6x24, “Death and All His Friends”, heavy breathing, hallucinates his dead wife, brought out on a gurney, nose cannula

7x01, “With You I’m born Again”, scar from bullet wound, counseling for trauma, flashback to the hospital shooting

7x02, “Shock to the System”, operated on, bullet removal

7x08, “Something’s Gotta Give”, punched in the face, beaten up, bruises, guilt over leaving his family behind

7x09, “Slow Night, So Long”, bruised face

8x02, “She’s Gone”, partner injects him with needle by accident during surgery, knocked out, collapses, defibrilated, hospital bed, friend worry for him

9x23, “Readiness is All”, worry/concern

10x13, “Take it Back”, angst, abusive father admitted to the hospital & dies

12x24, “Family Affair”, upset his girlfriend won’t marry him

13x01, “Undo”, bruised hand, angst, guilt, arrested, handcuffed, imprisoned

14x22, “Fight For Your Mind”, locates his neglectful mother, brings up pent-up frustration about her leaving him and his siblings, emotional whump

Richard Webber (James Pickens Jr.)

2x17, “As We Know It”, diaphoretic, heavy breathing, heart attack, bedridden

6x01, “Good Mourning”, car accident, minor leg injury, medically treated

6x15, “The Time Warp”, rehab (brief)

8x16, “If Only You Were Lonely”, worry for his wife, minor burn to his arm, tended to

8x20, “The Girl with No Name”, angst, catches his wife (who has alzeihmer's) in bed with another man, tries to make her remember their life together

9x10, “Things we said Today”, worry for his ex wife, tears, grief/she dies

9x11, “The End Is the Beginning Is the End”, guilt, grief, support

9x24, “Perfect Storm”, implied electrocution, unconscious

10x01, “Seal our Fate”, unconscious, colleagues worry for him, cardiac tamponade

10x02, “I want You with Me”, operated on, hospital bed, breathalyzer

10x03, “Everybody’s Crying Mercy”, hospitalized, nose cannula, mentions of significant weight loss due to surgery, feeding tube, bedridden

10x04, “Puttin’ on the Ritz”, hospitalized, bedridden, nose cannula, refuses treatment, angst

10x05, “I Bet It Stung”, hospital bed, IV in his arm, pancreatic leak

10x06, “Map of You”, hospital bed, constant shoulder pain

10x07, “Thriller”, hospital bed, pads/sensors on chest

10x08, “Two Against One”, hospital bed, nose cannula

10x09, “Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word”, wheelchair

10x10, “Somebody that I used to Know”, falls down while overexerting himself

11x06, “Don’t Let’s Start”, angst, rejected by his biological daughter

14x18, “Hold Back the River”, his AA sponsor dies, grief

14x19, “Beautiful Dreamer”, friends worry for him

Derek Shepherd (Patrick Dempsey)

2x18, “Yesterday”, bruised hand, ice pack

3x05, “Oh, the Guilt”, upset, learns the extent of his wife cheating on him

3x14, “Wishin’ and Hopin’”, exposure to neurotoxine, passes out

3x16, “Drowning on Dry Land”, saves his partner from drowning, worry (she has hypothermia), angst, tears

3x17, “Some Kind of Malice”, worry for his partner, guilt, comfort

5x01, “Dream a Little Dream of Me, Part 1”, hit by a bus, hospitalized, operated on (dream sequence, not real)

5x02, “Dream a Little Dream of Me, Part 2”, minor hand injury, bandaged

5x16, “An Honest Mistake”, fight with Mark, punched in the face, bruised

5x17, “I Will Follow You Into The Dark”, angst, bruised face

6x07, “Give Peace a Chance”, dehydrated, stressed, throws up

6x23, “Sanctuary”, shot in the chest

6x24, “Death and All His Friends”, aftermath of being shot, heavy breathing, partner worries for him, operated on

7x01, “With You I’m born Again”, flashback to being shot and the subsequent hospitalization, locked up for overspeeding (not serious)

7x03, “Superfreak”, recalls his father being shot in front of him

8x24, “Flight”, plane crash, head injury, arm trapped beneath plane debris, injures himself further to free himself, limping, passes out, wound pinned shut with safety pin without anasthesia

9x02, “Remember the Time”, flashback to being rescued, hand bandaged, hand splinted, operated on

9x03, “Love the One You’re With”, flashback to the plane crash

9x06, “Second Opinion”, hand splinted, may never do a surgery again

9x09, “Run, Baby, Run”, arm operated on, sedated, unconscious, hand bandaged

9x10, "Things we said Today”, hand bandaged, bedridden

10x03, “Everybody’s Crying Mercy”, exhaustion

10x18, “You be Illin’”, sick, exhaustion, passes out, bedridden, dehydrated, IV in his arm

11x07, “Could we start again, Please?”, guilt, flashback to father’s murder

11x21, “How to Save a Life”, hit by a truck, severe injuries, hospitalized, misdiagnosed, operated on, wife terminates life support, death

George O’Malley (T.R. Knight)

2x19, “What Have I Done to Deserve This?”, dislocated shoulder, tended to, arm in sling, angst, upset

3x08, “Staring at the Sun”, angst, father has esophageal cancer, aortic regurg, and needs aortic valve replacement

3x11, “Six Days, Part 1”, father needs to be operated on, angst, friends comfort him, eventually has to unplug father’s life support, grief

3x14, “Wishin’ and Hopin’”, sick from exposure to neurotoxine, shaking

3x16, “Drowning on Dry Land”, worry for his friend, angst, tears

4x04, “The Heart of the Matter”, guilt for cheating on his wife

5x24, “Now or Never”, severely injured, deformed face, rushed into the hospital, death

Preston Burke (Isiah Washington)

2x26, “Deterioration of the Fight or Flight Response”, shot, blood, shoulder injury, medically taken care of, nose cannula

2x27, “Losing My Religion”, bedridden, hand pain

3x02, “I am a Tree”, bedridden, arm in sling

3x03, “Sometimes a Fantasy”, arm in sling

3x04, “What I Am”, trembling hand

3x09, “From a Whisper to a Scream”, hand pain, partner removes him from an operation without him knowing, angst

3x11, “Six Days, Part 1”, bedridden in hospital, arm in sling

3x14, “Wishin’ and Hopin’”, exposure to neurotoxine, heavy breathing, passes out

Owen Hunt (Kevin McKidd)

5x01, “Dream a Little Deam of Me, Part 1”, calf injury, taken care of, stapled

5x06, “Life During Wartime”, vague mentions of past trauma in Iraq

5x14, “Beat Your Heart Out”, panic attack, “forcefully” hugged for comfort

5x19, “Elevator Love Letter”, insomnia, PTSD, accidentaly chokes his partner, guilt, tears, comfort, zones out, worried friend

5x20, “Sweet Surrender”, guilt

6x01, “Good Mourning”, PTSD counseling

6x18, “Suicide is Painless”, insomnia, has flashbacks/dissociation during an operation

6x23, “Sanctuary”, angst, partner breaks up with him

6x24, “Death and All His Friends”, held at gunpoint, romantic partner held at gunpoint in front of him, shot in the shoulder, operated on

8x09, “Dark Was the Night”, angst

8x13, “If/Then”, hits hand against glass, bruised/bloody knuckles, tended to

8x19, “Support System”, guilt, worry, partner breaks up with him, angst

8x23, “Migration”, angst

9x02, “Remember the Time”, worry for his partner who has PTSD from the plane crash

9x09, “Run, Baby, Run”, guilt over the plane crash (he chose a cheaper plane)

9x10, “Things we said Today”, angst, tears, divorce

11x15, “I Feel the Earth Move”, worry, support

11x20, “One Flight Down”, angst, operation brings up guilt over the s8 plane crash

12x07, “Something Against You”, PTSD (brief)

12x10, “All I Want is You”, grief over sister’s supposed death, upset (brief)

12x20, “Trigger Happy”, guilt, upset

13x12, “None of Your Business”, injures himself with barbed wire while trying to help a patient (who is entangled in it)

13x17, “Till I Hear it from You”, insomnia (brief), romantic angst, teary-eyed

13x23, “True Colors”, dissociates, hallucinates, comfort, hugged, tears, long lost sister is found & guilt over leaving her behind during a military operation

13x24, “Ring of Fire”, zones out

14x01, “Break Down the House”, worry for his sister who is in surgery, heavy breathing/panic attack, supportive friend

14x05, “Danger Zone”, insomnia

15x09, “Shelter From the Storm”, angst, teary-eyed

15x10, “Help, I’m Alive”, sick, accidentaly injected with paralytics/propofol, passes out, bedridden

15x22, “Head Over High Heels”, therapy, guilt, recalls father’s death, tears

Mark Sloan (Eric Dane)

5x16, “An Honest Mistake”, fight with Derek, punched in the face, bruised

5x17, “I Will Follow You Into The Dark”, swollen hand

6x20, “Hook, Line and Sinner”, angst/upset, gives up his baby for adoption

7x18, “Song Beneath the Song”, worry for his wife who was in a car accident

8x24, “Flight”, plane crash, head injury, heavy bruising, romantic partner dies in front of him, tears, grief, lethargic, friend discovers he's more injured then he lets on (whole chest), operated on while conscious

9x01, “Going, Going, Gone”, unconscious, hospital bed, breathalyzer, friends stop life support, death, friends grieve by his bedside

9x02, “Remember the Time”, flashback to being rescued, defibrilation, hospital bed, heavy breathing, nose cannula

Jackson Avery (Jesse Williams)

7x06, “These Arms of Mine”, panic

7x08, “Something’s Gotta Give”, bruised hand tended to

7x09, “Slow Night, So Long”, nightmare

9x24, “Perfect Storm”, injured rescuing someone, tended to, arm in sling, bedridden

10x01, “Seal our Fate”, injured, bruised face, arm in sling, bedridden, dislocated shoulder, partner worries for him

10x18, “You be Illin’”, sick, exhaustion, sluggish

11x09, “Where do We go from Here?”, worry, tears, emotional whump

11x10, “The Bed’s too Big without You”, tears, emotional whump

11x11, “All I could do was Cry”, learns his baby has a genetics disorders affecting his bones, tears, grief

11x22, “She’s Leaving Home, Part 1”, upset, worry for his partner

12x11, “Unbreak My Heart”, injures himself, bruised cheek, arm stitched, tears, divorce

12x24, “Family Affair”, worry for his pregnant partner

13x16, “Who Is He (And What is he to You)?”, angst over his estranged father not recognizing him when he bumps into im again, teary-eyed, emotional whump

13x24, “Ring of Fire”, rescues patient from a fire, heavy breathing, coughing, oxygen mask

14x10, “Personal Jesus”, operation brings up memories of police brutality against him

14x16, “Caught Somewhere in Between”, forcefully kissed

14x23, “Cold as Ice”, tears/worry for hospitalized partner

15x10, “Help, I’m Alive”, upset his mother didn't tell him she has cancer

15x11, “The Winner takes it All”, fear/worry for his mother who is in surgery, partner comforts him, tears

Ben Warren (Jason George)

11x22, “She’s Leaving Home, Part 1”, treated for beestings on his shoulder (not overly serious)

12x18, “There’s a Fine, Fine Line”, angst, upset over mistake that kills a patient

12x19, “It’s Allright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)”, breaks rules while trying to save a patient, suspended, tears, angst

14x11, “(Don’t) Fear the Reaper”, worry for his romantic partner

15x04, “Momma Knows Best”, hand bandaged

Nathan Riggs (Martin Henderson)

12x08, “Things We Lost in the Fire”, punched in the face twice

13x24, “Ring of Fire”, heavy breathing/coughing from operating in a hospital  on fire, oxygen mask, tears

14x01, “Break Down the House”, tears

14x05, “Danger Zone”, injures his fnger (minor)

Andrew DeLuca (Giacomo Gianiotti)

13x01, “Undo”, gurney, face and neck trauma, nebulizer mask, zygomatic fracture/eye injury, broken nose, intubated, operated on, hyphema, arm in sling, bandaged, fear/panic

13x02, “Catastrophe and the Cure”, bruised face, arm in sling

13x03, “I ain’t no Miracle Worker”, bruised face, arm in sling, bandage on nose

14x14, “Games People Play”, slips, hits head on floor, passes out, head CT, concussion (not too serious), hospital bed

14x16, “Caught Somewhere in Between”, fakes injury for a medical simulation (comedic)

15x17, “And Dream of Sheep”, exhaustion (fluffy)

15x25, “Jump Into the Fog”, arrested for fraud, escorted by police, locked up

Nico Kim (Alex Landi)

15x08, “Blowin’ in the Wind”, thrown against a truck by blast of wind, ice pack to the head

15x09, “Shelter From the Storm”, forehead bruise

#Dwhumpster's whump compilations #Grey's Anatomy #Text post #(hkfqqsdfjlhvsv I've been working on this since January) #(I am officially dead)

[sentry-bots-scare-me]

An original work I’ve been writing, titled Dusk. Let me know what you think!

Cold. It is very cold.

Though my gown has many layers, long sleeves, and elbow-length gloves, I feel the chill down to my bone. I do my best to hide my shivers.

An army at my back and my sword drawn, I stand a bit straighter as the castle doors rattle.

I look around the castle walls, a brightness emanating throughout the hall.

The wood on the doors begin to splinter and crack.

I take a more defensive stance.

The doors break open. It is worse than I imagined.

I have the same dream every night.

Tonight is no different, and as I wipe the sweat from my brow, my brother speaks."You up again?"

"I am, " I say, knowing Jaimie could never understand my dream.

A single candle lights up the monochromatic walls. He sits at an old wooden table. "The dream again?"

"Yes," I swing my bare feet to the floor. "It's been quite a while since then, Alenis, are you not over it?"

I roll my eyes and sigh, my patience wearing thin. "Jaimie, you weren't there, it was an absolute massacre."

"But it was three years ago, Alenis."

"You weren't there, you didn't watch them all die. You weren't the one that failed to protect them."

"Alenis, no one expected the princess to defend them. They thought it would be me, or Father."

"It doesn't matter," I tell him, frustration increasing. His nonchalance and apathy dig deep beneath my skin. "They're dead or enslaved, because of me."

He lets out a deep sigh. "You're reading too much into it. Besides, my plan to bring me back to power will work. You needn't worry about it any longer."

I say no more, just take a sip of water and pad back to bed, my back facing Jaimie.

Three years ago, a miserable failure was made on my part, one that resulted in my now current situation, finding suitors for an arranged marriage in order to acquire a large army.

To undo my mistake. Everything is always about my mistake.

In my head, I still see it clear as day. I still remember the Dark King's threats. I remember him storming my home, slaughtering my people, my friends, my family, my mother. I remember them screaming my name, begging for help, just as they should have. I was their protector, and I failed them.

Jaimie never understood this. He was always abroad, never forming a bond with his people. He sees it as a casualty of war, nothing more. But I don't see anything casual about death at all.

I close my eyes, waiting for sleep. In the morning, we see Prince Brandon Gardner, a close ally to my dead kingdom, and perhaps, my husband to be.

————————-

My body feels heavy as I ride beside Jaimie. Each day we do this, dread fills me more and more. "Why are you so worried?" Jaimie asks me.

Wind whips past me, my hair moving in wild directions."I'm not worried at all," I tell him. Nerves surround me, yes, but only because I'm not quite fond of selling my life away to a man I don't know quite well. If I married, I had always thought that it would be for love, not to save a dying kingdom. Duty calls me still, though."You're doing the right thing,"

I just nod my head and keep sight on the castle ahead of us, trying not to think of the absolute chaos my own must be in."Welcome, Princess Alenis, Prince Jaimeson." A guard at the gate says as he motions for the others to open the wrought iron barrier.

Jaimie looks at me quickly and I take in my own state. Jaimie somehow managed to keep his regal appearance, but my disheveled state says otherwise. Compared to normal regal wear, it would not be thought that I hail from one of the formerly most powerful countries in the Armetian area.

I wear loose, breathable pants, and an old tunic of Jaimie's. Equipped with a sword, and bow and arrows, you would not be able to tell that I am a girl if it were not for my long hair.

"You don't have to call me that anymore," I say as I guide my horse through the gate. "I no longer rule anything."

The guard does not meet my eyes, and I understand. I'm not sure I would be able to hold his gaze myself. Jaimie's horse trots a few paces ahead of mine. "You know," he looks back at me, scanning my figure. "You could have presented yourself a little more appropriately."

His ignorant words send me scathing. "Jaimie, when you're the one getting married off for your brother's gain of power, you can tell me how to dress."He glares.

"Do you not want to right your wrong?"

"Yes," I refuse to look at him.

"Then perhaps you should take heed to what I say."I begin to retort, but a tall man with distinguished features walks toward Jaimie and me. His posture is perfect, and the sun glistens off his salt and pepper colored hair. "The Prince is waiting for you," He says matter-of-factly, leading us down the path and gesturing two men towards us.

The men lead our horses to the stables as we follow the man."He's quite excited to see you, Princess," the doors pull open almost just as we step onto the stairs, and I remember all at once what it's like to be important.

We turn a corner into the castle as he introduces himself to us as sir Eldwin, Bran's chief hand.

Light streams in from floor-to-ceiling windows, creating a warm atmosphere. We follow a red runner down the hall and the esteemed man does not say much. I am self-conscious about the boots I wear, worried about tracking mud onto the fine carpeting, ruining my chances at gaining Bran's marriage proposal and worse so, Jaimie's reaction. I try to step as lightly as possible, though I am sure it does no difference.

We come to dark wood doors, and though I know I'm seeing an old friend, nerves daunt me still. "I'll leave you here," Eldwin says, turning just as poised and proper as ever. Jaimie pulls the door open and I find the smiling blond inside. He sits, blue eyes shining with joy, just as always.

"Aly!" He jumps from his seat to wrap me in a hug. I smile, noting the familiarity, Even though it seems as if everything has changed in the last three years, Bran has always been a constant. I note his scent, as comforting as it was when I was younger. He pulls back for a moment, taking me in. I watch as he scans my being almost as if to make sure I'm still me. I track his eyes, focusing on the way the light hits his eyes, illuminating the little gold flecks within the sea of blue.

He then realizes that this is the first he's seen me since my kingdom's demise. "Are you okay?" He pulls me into a hug, though this one is not as happy as before. It is a different hug, more comforting than the one before.

"So much has happened," I say, finally beginning to feel comfortable.

"I know," he says, and then he snaps up as he remembers Jaimie, leaning in the door frame. He pulls away from me, standing straight and regally, extending his hand to Jaimie. Jaimie accepts it with a solemn shake. There is no joy within that man.

I watch as Bran leads Jaimie to a table with a friendly smile, and I marvel at the changes. Bran is just the same as always, a bittersweet reminder of the past, and Jaimie, he is dark and empty, a constant reminder of the present pain. He is nothing but business and vengeance.

I know that more than likely, Bran would be more than willing to marry me. But as he pulls out a chair for me next to him, I think of how I am more of a cow at the fair being shown for sale than a princess readying for marriage. Jaimie will not let just anyone marry me. He wants the best of the best. The one with the best army, the best kingdom, not the best heart or even the best man. Bran, with a modest kingdom, may not be that man.

Bran takes my hand as he and Jaimie discuss our current situation. He looks at me as if he knows more than he lets on.

As the finer details and stipulations go on, my mind begins to drift away from the topic. While Jaimie and Bran negotiate the details of the sale of my freedom, I allow Bran's hand to slip off of mine. I stand up, absent-minded and move to the bookshelves. I catch Bran's eyes tracking me, unsure of my movements. He sees that I am okay and continues back to the conversation, seemingly distracted.

I focus once again on my own movements, trying to take my mind off the men's conversation.

I study the spines of the leather bound books, allowing my fingers to drag across them. Dust dances off of each area my fingers grace, and I watch them, illuminated in the light pouring in from the skylight. A newish book catches my eye as it is pulled out farther than the rest. It is unlike the others, as the pages are a bit thicker and worn more so on the edges, as though it has been paged through quite a bit. A brief look within it reveals neat handwriting. I flip it around, confused, and take a look at the cover. In fancy, inlaid gold scrawl, "Avenir" is written. My heart instantly sinks.

I flip through it carefully.

It's Bran's accounts of his trips to my kingdom and his knowledge of it. I turn to the last third of the book, looking for something more recent.

I close my eyes and sigh upon seeing the large heading "The Great War." I pain myself further and read on, knowing it is important to absorb all accounts possible.

"I saw Alenis today. She had warned me of the Dark King's treats to Avenir. She said she wasn't very convinced that he would make good on them but still wished for Jaimie or her father to come home.

"She said as a woman, even in power, there wasn't much she could do. She said she hated it, that she felt like she should do more. I wish I could help her, but I'd never ruin any chance she'd have at taking the throne. Besides, Jaimie would have my head for it."

I give a small chuckle and flip forward a few pages.

"I visited Alenis again. It's been a few weeks since I last saw her. One of her guards ran in the throne room and told her that the Dark King was on his way. I had never seen a woman poise herself so professionally in the face of danger. She had me sit behind the throne, worrying the Dark King would become enraged at my presence.

"The whole time she spoke, she was more than respectful to the vile man. That day I had finally understood Alenis's fear. He planned to take Avenir for himself and rebuild the Dark Kingdom. He said it was happening, by one of two choices. She could marry him, or he would take her land by force. She said she was in no place to give her hand, nor was there anyone around who could.

"The king said to expect troops by dusk the next day. I stayed the night to reassure her and keep an eye on her safety.

"His threat was not an empty one. Avenir lost 1,320 soldiers this day.

"Alenis was crushed, but nevertheless persisted, she continued to send for her father and brother, though they never came."

Tears prick my eyes and I skip to the last few pages.

"Avenir was lost today. The Dark King is presumed dead, though dark forces are currently in control. I have yet to hear from the Tudors.

"I went to Avenir in reconnaissance, it was truly decimated. I found a beaten Alenis and an angry Jaimie. I offered them stay in Daeeli, but Jaimie refused. I had worried for Alenis's health, though Jaimie wouldn't let me speak to her. I saw the pain in her eyes and nothing in Jaimie's."

I turn to the very last page. It is not Bran's handwriting. the cryptic message sends chills down my spine.

"Hell is upon you."

[writingsofspn]

We’ll Be Okay - Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Sam, Dean and Y/N are hunting something that is kidnapping young women and removing their reproductive systems to survive. On one of the nights, Y/N is taken and it’s a rush to see if Sam and Dean get there in time before the worst happens.

A/N: I read a fic similiar to this about a character from another tv show and wanted to try my hand at writing it for Sam. It’s quite a sad one - but I really love the angsty, sad drabbles I’ll admit! Enjoy:)

Warnings: sad, mentions of hysterectomy and blood, gore

(Y/N = Your Name , Y/L/N = Your Last Name, y/h/c = Your Hair Colour, y/e/c = Your Eye Colour, y/h = Your Height)

*set in season 2/3

——————————

“Guess it’s my turn to go get food tonight boys. What do you want?” You asked, getting up from the bed and grabbing your jacket.

“Usuals, please.” Dean said, flipping through the pages of the book he was reading about the creature on your case.

“Yeah. Thanks Y/N.” Sam spoke while scrolling through his laptop on the other side of the room by the door.

“Okay. I’ll see you in 20 minutes or so. Be back soon.” You walked to the door, kissing the top Sam’s head as you grabbed your wallet. You two always made a conscious effort to show affection before either one of you left the other; it was a comfort, really. Too many bad things had happened to you guys and showing your love was something that provided security if something was to ever happen - which it often did.

The diner wasn’t far from the motel, a 5 minute walk? You’d seen it as you drove home from the case you were working today.

This case was getting to you, you had to admit. The creature you’d identified it as, survived on the uterus’ of young women. Being a women, you felt somewhat closer to the case. This ‘thing’ was kidnapping the young women from the street, their homes, the grocery store, anywhere; and then taking them to an unknown location. There, It would surgically remove their uterus and then leave them in the street for people to find and help. It wouldn’t kill them, it would just take what it needed. It made you feel sick to your stomach that these women were being violated and that their lives were being altered so dramatically without their consent...

You stopped in your tracks.

Something was following you, watching you. You put your hand on the gun that was tucked into the back of your waistband and did a 360 around you. Nothing. You walked faster, keeping an eye on your surroundings. You heard a laugh, then your vision went black.

——————————

“Yo. Where’s Y/N? She should be back by now. It’s been an hour.” Dean asked, standing up and going to look out of their motel window.

“I’ll call her.” Sam said shortly and from that, Dean knew Sam was already worrying. Him and Y/N belonged together. They were practically two halves of one person, and Dean had seen what happened to Sam when Y/N wasn’t around. Your death a few years ago had effected Sam in ways that Dean had never seen before, and it scared him. Though you were resurrected, Sam hadn’t been the same since. He wouldn’t be able to cope if something happened again, Dean was sure of it.

“No answer. Dean, she isn’t answering.” Sam paced the floor, his lip between his teeth in anxiousness.

“Sammy. She’s fine, maybe the foods taking longer than it should be. We’ll go down to the diner and find her.” Dean tried to reassure Sam, a bad feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. You were never late, and if you knew you were going to be; you texted. You knew the boys would worry if they didn’t know you were okay.

Dean grabbed his jacket, Sam doing the same. They rushed to the diner, rushing through the door and looking around anxiously. They couldn’t see Y/N anywhere.

“Hey. Hey. Excuse me. You seen this women? She’s got y/h/c hair , y/e/c eyes, about y/h?” Sam said as he went to the person taking orders. He held up a picture of you that he kept in his wallet.

“No. I’m sorry. Never seen her before.” The worker said. “Do you wanna use a phone and call someone?”

“No. I’m fine. Thank you for your help anyway.” Sam turned away from the counter, and felt sick. He gave Dean a look and he returned it. They walked out of the diner and Sam sat on a bench with his head in his hands.

“We’ll find her Sammy. You know that.” Dean said.

“I know. It’s just...if something happens to her Dean. I won’t...I won’t be able…” Sam stopped and took a deep breath.

He needed to find you.

——————————

You went to turn around and found you couldn’t. Your wrists and ankles were tied down tight with leather straps. The top of your body was pinned down and your mouth was gagged. There was something laced in the gag, you could smell it and you felt woozy. You pulled at your restraints a few times before staying still and taking in your surroundings. It looked like an abandoned OR in an old fashioned hospital. The walls were crumbling and the floor was filthy. Rusted equipment lay around the room; various scanners, medicines and beds. A surgical tray lay beside you with gleaming tools, which seemed out of place in the dirty room. You gritted your teeth and instantly knew that clean equipment was for you.

You’d been taken by the creature you were hunting. Dread filled your body as you knew what was to come, and you felt numb. You and Sam had talked about children in the future, and you both had agreed that you perhaps wanted them. Bringing children into this life wasn’t something either of you wanted, however it was nice to have the option that if you ever got out of the life and settled down - you’d be able to have kids. You felt tears running down your face at the prospect of this decision being taken away from you, and your body being so violated. You felt exposed and helpless, your restraints taking all the power away from you.

The plastic sheet at the front of the room rustled and a normal-looking man emerged from behind it, dressed in full surgical scrubs. You were surprised; this creature looked nothing like it did in the lore books. They must be able to disguise themselves to blend in. He pulled the mask down and your eyes widened. It was the father of the victim you and the boys had talked to earlier, he was the creature . You thrashed violently but it was no use.

“No need to do that sweetheart. This won’t hurt a bit, don’t you worry.” He pulled the mask back up to cover his mouth and pulled up your shirt to expose your lower body. He stared at you for a while before picking up the scalpel and inspecting it in the light. He heard him chuckle and your crying worsened as you longed for Sam or Dean to burst through that plastic entrance. He lowered the scalpel and pushed it into your skin. You screamed loudly before you passed out from the pain.

—————————

It had been a few hours and Sam had just found where he thought the creature had taken you. There was an abandoned hospital just outside town that hadn’t been used in years. Sam thought he must’ve taken you there, it all made sense.

Dean drove like a maniac through the town to get to the hospital. Sam’s foot tapped nervously on the floor as he felt so anxious he thought he might throw up. Dean pulled up at the hospital and both of them broke through the boarded-up entrance and raced up the stairs. They went from room to room trying to find any sign of you. Sam approached a room and the smell of blood was ripe. He burst through the plastic sheet covering the door and saw a man leaning over you. Sam didn’t even think twice before he cocked his shotgun and put two through the guy’s chest. He fell to the floor and Sam felt his legs go weak and his eyes feel damp as he saw you laying there. You did not look good, and the amount of blood that surrounded you was extremely worrying. He rushed to your side and began undoing all of your restraints. He called Dean’s name loudly in the process.

“Hey Y/N. Hey. Hey. It’s okay. I’m here. He’s gone, don’t worry. You’re gonna be okay.” Sam said shakily, his hands fumbling with the straps. Dean threw the sheet back and stopped dead.

“Oh my god.” Dean breathed. He watched tears fall down Sam’s face and rushed to help him.

“I got it. I got it.” Sam pushed his hands away as he lifted Y/N into his arms. They quickly got to the car and went to the nearest hospital. Sam was in the back with you, holding his hands over your lower stomach to stem the bleeding. Your face was pale and your pulse was extremely weak. Sam told Dean to drive faster as he attempted to keep you awake and with him.

“Hey Y/N? Stay with me, please. You gotta stay with me baby. Please. You can’t leave me, not now.” Sam kept pleading, more and more tears streaming down his face. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and cradled your head. Dean’s heart broke at the scene behind him.

Finally, Dean pulled up at the hospital’s emergency bay. He got out of the car, shouting loudly for help. He helped Sam get out of the car with you still in his arms and watched as Sam handed you over to the doctors; who strapped you to a gurney and rushed inside. Sam watched helplessly as you were carted off, feeling about as useful as a glass hammer. He was helpless, and he couldn’t do anything to save you.

He should’ve gotten there sooner, he should’ve figured it out sooner, he thought.

Dean led him the waiting room and they both sat down, completely exhausted.

Sam didn’t want to sleep.

He needed to stay awake in case there was any kind of news about you and whether you were okay. He watched the door, silently praying a doctor would walk through and ask where your family was.

—————————-

“I’m looking for the kin of a Miss. Y/N Y/L/N?” A doctor announced. Sam must’ve fallen asleep as he was jolted awake by the announcement. He leapt up from his seat.

“Yeah. That’s….uh...me. That’s me. I’m Y/N’s family. That’s me.” He said quickly. Dean’s head shot up from where he was sleeping. Sam stood up and approached the doctor. “I’m Sam Winchester, Y/N’s boyfriend. That’s my brother over there, Dean. Is Y/N okay?” Sam asked the doctor, feeling sick at the next possible answer.

“You’ll be glad to know she pulled through. She lost a lot of blood and the internal damage was expansive. But I’m happy to say she’s stable now. However there is something, I’m sorry to say that…um...” The doctor lowered her voice and pursed her lips. “ I’m sorry to say that Y/N will no longer be able to have children. Her organs for that to be possible were removed. We understand that other women have been in her situation this past two weeks so it’s safe to assume it was the same person who did this to Y/N, that did this to the other women. I’m so sorry Mr. Winchester.”

Sam took a few steps back to process the information. What did she mean? He killed the guy before he did anything, surely. He didn’t remember seeing anything when he was in the room, but then again; he was so focused on you and trying to make sure you were okay. He put a hand to his face and took a deep breath.

“I can take you to where she is, Mr. Winchester. If you’ll come with me.” Sam followed her, Dean behind him. “She’s awake now. I came to get you earlier but I saw you were both asleep and thought I’d let you rest - must’ve been an exhausting night.” The doctor smiled.

“You’ve got no idea. Thank you so much….Dr. Ling. You’ve been so kind.” Sam said, reading off her nametag. He was thankful she’d let him sleep, he felt a lot better than he probably would’ve done without the rest.

“No problem. Have a nurse page me if you need anything.” She offered her hand and Sam took it, shaking it firmly before she walked away. He turned to look at your room and took another deep breath.

“I’ll stay out here man. This is personal. You do what you gotta do and let me know when I can come in.” Dean said to Sam, putting a hand on his shoulder. Sam put his hand on his brother’s for a few seconds before stepping into your room. The blinds were open and Dean could see you inside. He saw your face light up when you saw Sam and he felt his body ache. He watched Sam hold your face for a few minutes before taking your hand and sitting down. Dean watched as Sam told you what had happened and the outcome of the night’s events. He saw your eyes water and your sobs could be heard through the door, Sam moved to sit beside you on the bed and take you in his arms.

“We’ll get through this, okay? You’re okay, that’s the most important thing here. We’re together, and we’re gonna be okay.” Sam said, running his hands through your hair as your head rested on his shoulder.

He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince, you or him.

“I know we’ll be okay. We always are Sammy.” You sniffed, holding him tighter.

——————————

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural drabble #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #fanfiction #sam #sam x reader #supernatural fanfic #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester drabble #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #dean winchester imagine #spn fanfiction #spn family #spn imagine #spn fanfic #spn drabble #x reader #sam winchester x fem!reader #y/n

[lyssawritesfanfic]

the touch i’ve desired

It’s a simultaneously awkward and comfortable silence as the two of you walk home from the flower meadow. Your fingers go back and forth between delicately touching his to having your entire palm covered by his rough, calloused hands. You both continue to steal glances at each other, but whenever your eyes meet, both of you can do nothing but blush and conspicuously look away. However, it’s not unpleasant. There’s something warm and very you about the artless silence you share, almost as if this lack of interpersonal expertise is something you both can relish in. And it’s something that you can relish in for the rest of your lives. After all, Abraham Van Helsing, former vampire hunter and portrait of cool, ruthless calculations, has just asked you to marry him. Well, perhaps it was more of a demand. But it wasn’t a demand you had any intention of refusing. In fact, what he demanded was what your heart most deeply desires. As the thought runs through your head and you walk through the door of the home you’ve made together, you hold his hand tighter, look at him, and smile. Finally meeting your gaze, some of the worried creases around his eyes soften as he smiles back. But you notice that they aren’t all gone.

“Van Helsing... is there something wrong?” “No. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’m... honestly so pleased that I don’t even know what to do with myself,” he says as he closes the door behind him, still holding onto your hand. You search his face and know that he is telling the truth, but there’s somehow still traces of... anxiety, perhaps? “I’m not sure I understand.” He gives a signature self-loathing smile. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. You’re far too pure...” He gently reaches his ungloved hand out to cradle your cheek, and you lean into his touch. You love the feel of his hands on your skin. It’s the feeling you love and crave more than anything in the world. You never thought you’d be able to touch anything ever in your life, you had resigned yourself to that, and now... perhaps you’ve gotten greedy. You close your eyes. As you feel his fingers leave your face, before you even realize it, grab his hand to keep it there. “Please... I want you to keep touching me.” You feel a shiver through his hands and as you open your eyes, his face is fully flushed. “You’re going to give me the wrong idea if you keep saying things like that, you know.” “Hm? What do you mean? I’m simply telling the truth.” “Is that so...” He trails his thumb over your lips and it’s your turn to shiver. For some reason it sends some sort of dull, pleasurable electric shock through your body. You instinctually kiss his finger, but it’s... different somehow. Your kisses up until now have been deep, yes, but still somewhat chaste. “Shall I continue to touch you, then?” his eyes are hazy. His cool gaze has gone hot. “Or rather... can... can I please continue to touch you?” All you can manage to do is nod as he closes the distance, holding your cheeks with both of his hands now and pulling you into a deep kiss. His lips part and yours follow when you feel his tongue gently slip into your mouth. Any tension you may have felt in your body melts. You’re putty in his hands. A quiet moan escapes you as Van Helsing pushes his body towards you. You’re forced to step back a few paces to keep from falling until you find your back to the wall, never once breaking the kiss. One of his hands falls down your neck and lands at your collarbone, sadly covered by your shirt. You miss the feel of his skin on yours. “You... you said you’d keep touching me.” Your breathing is surprisingly heavy. Van Helsing smirks. “Is that what you want, beloved?” “Y-yes... please.” You try to bring his hand back up to your neck, but instead you feel the buttons of your blouse begin to fall away, his hand sliding inside to find your bare skin. If you melted before, you’re melting even more now. You’ve felt the touch of another on your chest before in a clinical manner, but who knew it could feel so amazing? “May I?” “Mmhmm...” He leans back in and places soft, wet kisses on the nape of your neck. Your arms almost of their own volition wrap around his broad, muscular back and hold him closer, gasping for breath. Your reaction urges him on and he completely frees you from your shirt. He kisses farther down now, stopping at your chest, and you’re suddenly acutely aware of the array of gems embedded in your flesh. Before you have time to become self-conscious though, he gently brings his lips to each fragment, kissing them reverently. “You are so beautiful, you know. Every part of you.” He continues kissing down until he reaches your breast. He teases your nipple with his tongue and you cry out a little louder in pleasure, your leg instinctually wrapping around his waist and pulling him even closer. He pulls it into his mouth now, sucking and playfully flicking his tongue back and forth. “A-ah!” He pulls away momentarily. “Do you not like this?” his hot breath tickles your wet skin, sending shivers through your body. “N-no... quite the opposite...” you repeat his earlier words back to him. He holds that nipple between his fingers, coaxing another cry out of you. “My beloved has such a lovely voice for me. I wonder how loud I can make you sing.” He showers attention on the other nipple with his mouth in the same way, yet massaging your other breast all the while. You writhe against his touch but he holds you tight, offering no escape from the overwhelming sensations shooting through you. He now continues lower, kissing and trailing his tongue down your torso while he undoes your pants, pulling them to the floor as he himself sinks down. He stops right below your navel, nipping and kissing, eliciting more uncontrollable squeals from you. But then... he brings his mouth even lower, spreading your legs, and lapping at your parted lips that are inexplicably soaking wet. His tongue enters you and your body quakes. “Ha-aaah...! V-v-van...!” “Ah, yes... cry for me, beloved.” Even if you wanted to remain quiet there’s no way that you could. He pulls your pants off of your feet now, leaving you completely naked at his mercy. And he has no mercy, relentlessly assaulting your senses with previously unimaginable pleasure. You grip his shoulders, fingers digging in, and you feel something rising within you. Something screaming for release. It’s almost painful how good it feels. “V-van...! I...! I’m...” He slides a finger inside you and you come completely undone, your voice reaching places you never thought possible, your legs spasming, threatening to give out, but Van Helsing holds you firmly as you climax, drinking up your juices as if he has been trapped in a desert unable to quench his thirst for decades. And yet he hardly offers a moment of reprieve, standing back up to his full height and biting at your ear. Everything is... so intense... you could pass out from the ecstasy. Your moans are wanton and ragged. You can hear him urgently tossing his own clothes aside, then you feel his bare chest flush against yours, his hard cock pressing against where his mouth just left. “I... I wanted just to give you the pleasure of touch today... and afford none for myself... but... Apologies. I don’t think I can do that. I can no longer hold myself back from you.” “Th-then don’t...” Your hand cups his cheek tenderly as you look into his eyes. Van Helsing... I thought we’d been over this... Allow yourself the happiness you wish for me... You can’t say it with words, you’re much too out of breath, but you hope your eyes can say what your voice currently cannot. He answers wordlessly by plunging himself deep inside you, causing you to cry out once more. He then hooks his arms around your legs, bringing you completely off the ground, pumping hard and fast inside of you. “Ah...! B-be careful!” “Heh... don’t worry... I... won’t drop you...” He’s smirking but the strain in his voice betrays his cool words. He’s not burdened by your weight, but you know that in this moment he has never felt such bliss either. He works your body, pounding you relentlessly, bouncing you up and down on him.  You feel that heat rise again in you, but before it reaches its peak, he slows his pace. His strokes turn from hard and fast to slow and earth-shattering. Your back slams against the wall with each one, reverberating through the mansion, and each time you scream for him. “Nng... yes... cry louder for me...” Your wails increase in intensity as he growls his command, not because he wishes it, but because you can’t help but grow louder and louder with each of his excruciatingly blissful thrusts. You reach the edge once again, but this time he speeds up, his fingertips digging into your rear. In a blinding flash of ecstasy, you’re both completely spent, and you feel his own proof of that shooting up inside you. Through labored ragged breaths, you finally meet each others’ gaze. He gently lets you down and kisses your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, sliding out of you. “I... I’m so glad I can finally touch you like this...” he whispers. “Yes... so am I. Will you...” you pause. Is this something you’re supposed to say at a time like this? “Will I what?” there’s a touch of concern in his voice. “Will you... continue touching me like this? In the future? I don’t believe I can handle more now, but...” And then Van Helsing does something you’re unsure you’ve ever seen him do. He laughs. A full, whole-body laugh. “Haha, yes! Yes, beloved. I will touch you like this whenever you desire it. Should I be asleep, eating, on an important work errand... whenever you wish to be touched, all you need to do is ask. And I will touch you for as long as you wish. It would be my greatest joy to do that for you.” His hand comes back to your cheek, your foreheads pressed against each other, and you see the warmest smile he’s ever had spread across his face. You can’t help but blush.  “Thank you, Van Helsing. I love you. Let’s keep touching each other... for the rest of our lives.”

#lyssa writes fanfiction #lyssa writes fanfic #code realize #code:realize #code: realize #Van Helsing #abraham van helsing #van helsing code realize #code realize van helsing #code: realize van helsing #smut #otome #otome fanfic #otomate #fanfic #fanfiction

[melodypond-thewomanwhomarriedme]

Mattex prompt, “Oh God—how are you still so tight?” Oh man I'm kinda afraid of this one but also super excited.

Matt’s smile widens as he kicks the front door of the flat shut. He drops his bag by the door and takes his shoes off, throwing his socks into the hamper sitting at the corner of the room.

He’s been battling the arousal building inside him all day at work. Alex hadn’t shown any mercy with the pictures she’d sent, and he’d even had to take a break in the middle of shooting to find a quiet corner to wank to the photo of her naked body.

He hears movement from one of the bedrooms and smiles, knowing that Alex knows that he’s back. Ever since they’d started experimenting in the bedroom - and occasionally, outside the bedroom - things had taken a turn in their relationship. In a good way.

If he’d thought that Alex was giving and generous before, he had no words to describe how she was now. Her passion and love for him knew no boundaries and while he tried to give her everything, he was very conscious of the fact that he doesn’t deserve her.

It had developed quite naturally - both of them were very comfortable around one another, already used to the natural rhythm of how they worked. But one day he’d suggested trying a new position that he read about on one of his magazines - and when that had been a success, he’d tried suggesting more and more. There were some bumps in the road, as they anticipated, but they always bounced back quickly, with something else to try.

New positions escalated to experimenting with certain items in their bedroom - handcuffs, whips, paddles and even something called ‘scream cream’. They’d taken in turns donning the handcuffs while the other took hold of their instrument of choice and they both found that they quite liked it. Both times.

By then, Alex had started doing her own research, finding new things to try. They had toyed with the idea of having a threesome or going to a sex club together, but neither of those ideas came to fruition - both of them had admitted to being easily possessive and jealous, and that really wasn’t the ideal personality type for trying either of those things.

But then one night, after a particularly satisfying round (in which he’d been the one handcuffed and tied up), she’d stroked his hair tenderly out of his eyes and quietly asked if he would enjoy trying anal sex. His eyebrows had shot up his forehead and his eyes had widened in surprise that she bit her lip nervously, wondering if maybe Matt wasn’t the type after all.

But after a few serious conversations about whether or not she was doing this because she felt like she had to please him, or whether it was something she genuinely wanted to do, Matt had agreed. Quite enthusiastically, much to her amusement.

The first time was heaven. They’d needed a substantial amount of lube to push through but it was worth it, because it was glorious. Pleasure coursing through his body like he’d never known before. And when it became clear that Alex wasn’t in pain and was thoroughly enjoying the experience, it couldn’t be helped. He’d fucked her arse hard and fast, over the vanity while staring at her lust-filled face in the mirror. The second time, after he’d recovered, had been tender and slow, on the bed with his arms around her waist and whispering words of love and devotion into her ear.

Since then, they’d peppered it into their daily routine. Finding it incredibly inconvenient for them to stop and search around for lube, Alex had taken to finding smart hiding places all over the house to store it in.

It’s only been a week since then, but he feels like he’s on top of the world. Alex is just perfect all around, even more so outside the bedroom. He loves her more than anything - he can’t imagine his life without her and he plans to keep it that way. Soon, he promises himself, he’ll make use of the ring he bought that’s sitting just out of sight in his side of the closet.

His phone pings in his pocket and he digs it out to find another text from Alex. It’s a picture of her bum, fully exposed (he’s left wondering for a few seconds how she’d managed to take the picture), with her hands pulling her cheeks apart and revealing something dark sitting snugly in the small hole.

“Fuck,” he swears, and he throws his phone onto the couch and practically runs into their bedroom, shirt half unbuttoned.

He finds Alex naked with her cheek pressed to the bed, her arse high in the air and a naughty smile on her face.

“Welcome home, darling.” She says softly, her low and sultry voice washing over him like holy water.

He feels the cadence of her voice go straight to his cock and he almost groans aloud. He settles for staring at her in wonder, his fingers moving on autopilot and unbuttoning the shirt fully, throwing it down onto the floor carelessly. He unbuckles his belt and undoes the button on his trousers, pushing that and his boxers down onto the floor and stepping out of them.

He licks his lips almost unconsciously, his eyes hungry for her. After staring at pictures of her the entire day it feels gratifying to finally be able to look at her in real life - pictures just can’t do her beauty justice.

“You bought something today,” he says, the question obvious in his voice. “You didn’t tell me.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” she replies, feeling the bed dip as he places one knee on the mattress. She shivers when she feels his warm hands caress the soft skin of her arse tenderly. “I’ve been wearing it all day to get ready for you.”

His eyes darkens even further as he places each hand gently on her two cheeks and pushes them apart, revealing the toy inside her. One of her hands brush his knee lightly and he looks down to see her holding a bottle of lube.

“Good girl,” he breathes, and he feels her flushing pleasantly at the praise. “What a good girl you are, my Alex.”

He lubricates himself sufficiently before licking his lips, feeling excitement and tension flow through him as it always does before he fucks Alex. He takes a hold of the little toy still inside her and pulls it out gently, as Alex lets a small breathy moan escape her lips.

“Butt plug,” he whispers, identifying the toy. He places it down on the bed beside him and bends to kiss her back sweetly. “I love you so much. You are perfect. You make me so happy, sweetheart.”

“Darling,” she whispers, turning around to face him. He leans forward to press a lingering kiss to her lips and pulls back. “Anything for you.”

He bends down to kiss her neck and grasp her hair, tugging her  head gently to the side to allow access. “I’ll do anything for you too, you know,” he whispers, in between mouthing at her skin, “whatever you want me to do. Anything. Everything.”

“Just fuck me,” she whispers back, a pleading note in her voice. “Please, darling, I’ve been on the edge for so long - I need you to - please, Matt.”

He pulls back slowly and grasps himself in his hand, steadying her hips in front of him. He aligns himself carefully and pushes in slowly, surprised at how hard it is still to bury himself fully inside her.

“Oh God - how are you still so tight?” He asks desperately, pulling out with just half of him inside her and pushing back in, harder this time. “Fuck, you feel so amazing around my cock baby, I - fuck -”

“You feel so good there, darling,” she moans, throwing her head back. It feels almost painful having to stay still when all she wants to do is fuck him wildly, but she knows that Matt will get to it when he’s able to. “Please, darling, I need you to fuck me hard, please - you can make love to me later, sweetie, right now I need you to -”

Her words are lost in her throat when he pulls back out and slams deeper into her again, and she gasps for air as she bites her lip hard. He swears again and places his hands on her hips, letting them travel up and down her sides.

“Fuck, I wish there were two of you right now,” she whispers breathlessly into the air, as he thrusts his cock deeper and deeper into her arse. “I want to feel you inside my cunt too.”

“Jesus, Alex,” he swears, and he slams the entirety of his length into her, making her cry out in pleasure. “We’ll use your rabbit next time, okay?”

She nods enthusiastically as he pulls out slowly. Tired of the slow pace, she leans her weight on her elbows and starts grinding her hips back into his, making him hiss in pleasure as his eyes shut tight. His grip on her hips are white-knuckled but she doesn’t give a damn how many bruises he leaves on her body because it feels so fucking good and she doesn’t ever want to stop.

“Alex!” Matt cries out as she fucks him roughly. “Fuck, Alex - I - ”

He seems to regain his senses quickly, wrapping his arms around her torso and pulling her upper body against his. His hips move even harder against her, his hands finding her left nipple and her clit, flicking them simultaneously as a throat-wrenching cry leaves Alex’s body.

He feels her tense up, her rectal muscles working vigorously around his shaft and he knows she’s close, so close - and if he rubs her clit just right as he thrusts hard into her-

She comes with a scream, heaving and panting from the exertion, and he fucks her harder and harder, his vision blurring around the edges as he feels her tightening around him. God, he wishes he could stay here forever - pleasuring Alex into orgasm after orgasm, his cock buried deep inside her arse, his fingers slipping across her wet and swollen clit, dipping into the soaked flesh between her legs. Fuck, everything about this is just absolutely fucking perfect and he doesn’t ever want it to end.

But the pleasure crests inside him and he feels himself being pushed over the edge, his vision blurring altogether as he thrusts wildly, and he collapses onto her with the force of his orgasm.

Taking in deep breaths as he rolls off her and making sure she wasn’t hurt by his weight, he reaches out and wraps his arms around her sweat-slicked body.

“You make me so happy,” he tells her again, his voice gravelly. “What did I do to deserve you, Kingston?”

The devotion in his voice is so very clear and she brings her hand up to his face, stroking her thumb over his cheekbone softly.

“I just want to make you feel the same way you make me feel,” she whispers back, the loving look in her eyes making his heart full. “I love you so much, Matt.”

Tomorrow, Matt decides. He’ll ask her to marry him tomorrow.

#mattexfic #mattex fic #mattex #nat’s tumblr fics #grapefruit #my gosh this is the kinkiest thing i’ve ever written i’ #m so surprised by my depravity #songsandfairytales

[ukthxbye]

AU of Empty hearse scene that still pisses me off wtf was that Sherlock just really kiss her

For @katiebuttercup and @mollyappreciationweek

(on ao3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/15913782)

“Moriarty slipped up. He made a mistake. Because the one person he thought didn’t matter at all to me was the one person that mattered the most. You made it all possible,” Sherlock says sincerely but then draws in a breath, nearing a sigh.

Thank you for indulging me my small fancy today, he thinks.

“But you can’t do this again, can you?” he earnestly asks. He knows her answer. Her sense of loyalty and he thinks, finally, love for another is clear.

Molly smiles, “I had a lovely day. I’d love to – I just ... um …” Her voice catches in her throat and she looks down to her left hand.

He follows her eyes to the ring, small and simple. He would have done something larger, he thinks but then shoves that thought back.

“Oh, congratulations, by the way,” he attempts and accomplishes in a near happy tone.

“He’s not from work,” she slips out

He smiles warmly and ignores the tightening in his chest.

“We met through friends, the old-fashioned way. He’s nice. We ... he’s got a dog ... we-we go to the pub on weekends and he ... I’ve met his mum and dad and his friends and all his family. I’ve no idea why I’m telling you this,” she rambles.

He turns a deaf ear to the tiny hitch in her throat. You have taken enough and she needs you to let her go and be happy, without any guilt, just be happy, he commands himself.  

He locks his eyes with hers. He sees her shrinking in instinctual defense.

“I hope you’ll be very happy, Molly Hooper. You deserve it. After all, not all the men you fall for can turn out to be sociopaths,” he declares.

“No?” she asks.

“No,” he says, as his chest tightens again. This is a goodbye, she needs to let me go, she needs someone who is worthy of her love, you don’t do love, remember, he reminds himself.

Sherlock spies his target, her right cheek is where he will kiss her. He’s kissed it before. It was an apology then. Perhaps it is again. It's what friends do, and an approval of her letting go.

He leans down, there is his target, and he risks closing his eyes as he nears her face.

Something makes his brain go blank. Wait, what happened, he wonders.

His closed eyes were his undoing and lead him to a more unconscious target. His lips do not feel her blushed cheek, but those lips he thought thin, oh no that bottom one is far from it, soft and warm against his.

His mind flashes with panic. Neither moves a muscle, exchanging breaths for what seems like forever. But Molly relaxes, and he feels her lips shift and caresses his. Every nerve ending fires and his better sense is unrecoverable.

Why is she responding, didn’t she just tell me about her fiance oh my god she is trying to part my lips, he thinks.

He almost backs away, but can’t seem to stop himself. Instead, he moves his lips to match hers, letting them part to deepen the kiss, his hand finding her hip. He follows her to the wall as she backs against it, pulling him lightly by the scarf.

One of part of his mind is screaming at him to stop this. The other part doesn’t give a damn, it feels better than anything he’s felt in a long time.

Her tongue teases his lip and he matches it. It's all so achingly slow, and he savors the moment. Her fingers slide up his chest and wrap around his back, pulling him in tight against her.

It feels desperate and he knows now he must stop it. But he is afraid. Afraid of what she will say after they part.

That was wonderful Sherlock, but you are right I must move on, he thinks is the most likely phrase.

He breaks the kiss, moving away by millimeters unable to will himself to end it quickly. He puts his forehead and nose against hers to not lose that connection of skin he now shockingly craves.

“So your place or mine?’ she says breathlessly.

“Molly...I am not sure what” he starts.

“I’ll just need to drop off a ring real quick,” she blurts out.

“Molly...”

She is crying, the tip of his nose now wet as her body shudders under his hands.

“Damn you, Sherlock,” she quivers.

“I am sorry, Molly,” he whispers. “I cannot let you...I cannot let you...”Why won’t words come out, he screams in his head.

“Cannot let me what?” she grits through her teeth, anger hiding and threatening to burst forth.

“Marry Tom” he divulges in a desperate voice.

She laughs, a painful sarcastic one, “So you kiss me to make sure he won’t want to?”

“Yes” is all he can manage with a sigh.  

“Oh, you are a bastard.” She is getting angry now but somehow still staying close to him like they cannot find themselves able to part.

“I wasn’t going to kiss your lips, I was aiming for your cheek and I miscalculated as I shut my eyes. But I am grateful I was bad at the geometry,” he says, the side of his lips curling.

She raises an eyebrow and shifts to indicate she wants to look at his face, and he obliges.

“I’m sorry, what?” She looks him in the eyes with uncertainty.

Sherlock holds her gaze, hoping his words are correct. “Molly, quite simply I made a happy mistake,” he smiles warmly as he places a timid hand on her face, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

Her face tightens at his touch, but he keeps his hand there on her cheek. That cheek he was supposed to kiss.

“What are you saying? Because I need you to, as best you can be honest here because if...if what you are asking...what you are asking is something I cannot take back,” she starts and stops herself as she fights back tears.

Sherlock swallows hard, conscious of the weight of their next decision and his next words.“I know. Molly, I do not ask it heedlessly, I...I” he begins his voice not as confident as he wants and he stops himself and shuts his eyes again. He breathes in deeply and out, letting both hands rest on her hips.

“Dinner...let’s start there, and we’ll come up with what you can tell Tom to let him down easy,” he says finally, opening his eyes cautiously.He catches her eyes again, wet but not angry, and he waits.

She sighs, rubbing his back with her fingers. “I should tell you to sod off,” she smirks.

He bites his lip, and then curls it, “You should have a long time ago, but I am afraid it's much too late for that now. My lips have found yours, and I wish for them to always be mine to possess. We must go forward with that knowledge.”

Finally, he sees her face lighten and her eyes glitter not just from tears. His chest tightens again but oh how delightful that ache is now, he thinks.

“Then dinner it is,” she grins, slipping her hands down from his back, then up to his neck as she pulls him down for one more quick kiss. He wishes they could linger there,  but they have much to discuss. More kisses will come later.

He steps back, running his hand along her scarf and wraps it for her. He grabs her hand and intertwined their fingers as he pulls her out the door with him. She shifts her bag, and he pauses on the sidewalk as she stands beside him.

“Italian? I know just the place,” he asks, looking to his left and back to her.

She leans into his arm, beaming, “ Sounds perfect.”

With that they turn and walk together hand in hand, chatting about the evening ahead.

#sherlolly #molly hooper appreciation week #katiebuttercup #au #Sherlock Holmes #molly hooper

[rain0205-blog]

Terminal State

Summary:  She tried leaving, submerging herself in work to escape the horrors she had seen. The horrors she kept seeing. She never wanted to go back to that life. But when the Empire takes her home, she’s forced to face her past. Can she move on? Can she cope? Or will she require a bit of help? still bad at summaries, still working on it. ever so slightly more than slight AU gadioxoc

Insomnia Falls

...

Athenacia ran as fast as her body would carry her toward a pile of fallen dreadnaughts. Troopers barred her path, human and machine alike, however, every blow only invigorated her. Taking them out only ensured that they weren't out wreaking havoc on other innocent people. The former Glaive could only really see a blind rage within her as she passed them all. Heavy breaths fell from her lungs, finally taking a moment to catch up to where she was. Cor was far behind her and there was no need to worry; he could take care of himself. Athenacia had to leave him behind, had to finish this. There was no other option. This was the only way to silence the protests of her guilty conscious.

The sun was beginning to set and she knew what that meant: daemons would be out. Without King Regis to stand against them with the magical wall and the crystal, they were free to invade the city. The Empire enjoyed using them anyway, something Athenacia remembered vividly from her war days. Sighing, there was still a long way to go before she reached the daemon. There seemed to be nothing but obstacles in her way and it only enraged her. Dreadnaughts above were focused on a specific target, placed in a tactical assault and she ran into fewer and fewer troopers the further away she drew from their prey. The devastation around her was unbelievable; she wished that she was having one of her nightmares and that this wasn't really happening, however, the pain in her body told her otherwise. Athenacia's pink scrubs were coated in blood and dust, and she was sure her hair was covered in it as well. The doctor was also positive that her left upper arm was near fractured and that her left tibia was bruised. Thankfully she had thought to pack potions and it was probably the only reason she could keep going at this point - that and the adrenaline from all the fighting she had done today.

Once she turned the corner of the street she was walking down, she was stopped dead in her tracks by someone most unexpected. Libertus, his back turned toward her in a string of dead bodies and debris. Athenacia was about to call out to him when an unfamiliar voice sounded in her ears. It was a sound she had never heard before, but she knew the name. Everyone knew the name, it was whispered on the lips of Insomnians and other territories in fear at the dead of night.

"This is Glauca. King Regis is dead. The ring is on its way to section D. We must recover the ring to realize our goal. If Ulric or the Princess get in the way, take them out. Reclaim our hearth and home," said Glauca.

It was evident that his voice was coming out of a radio.

"Hearth and home?" she heard Libertus repeat those words.

Titus Drautos, the only one who ever used that line. He was General Glauca? He was the mole? How did no one realize this until now? This entire time he was spying on them, spying on all of them.

"Libertus, come in," she snapped her attention back to the scene in front of her, "Where are you? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he grunted at them.

"On the way back to base now. We need you to head to the junction in section D. We're gonna join up with another unit and make a clean sweep of the place. We're one step away from realizing this revolution. Let's not let Pruvia's death be in vain. We'll be waiting for you, hero."

The transmission ended. Rage was bubbling within her as everything she had heard turned in her head. Athenacia clenched her weapon in one hand, ready to strike him.

"Libertus," she said his name in disgust. The man spun around, his face growing shocked as his eyes landed on her, "What have you done?" she asked in horror.

"Cia..." he was at a loss for words, "You don't understand... You were there, they killed Crowe!"

"Luche killed Crowe. But this..." she gestured towards the bodies contorted in death around them. The fallen debris of the once fair and peaceful city, "This... this chaos. This is all on you."

His face was riddled with guilt and he looked down at his feet. The girl couldn't believe what she was seeing. Had the treaty really torn everything apart? Or was this the plan from the start? Ulric and the Princess. Nyx and Lunafreya, they were headed for a trap. Athenacia had to find them, had to warn them of what was to come. Libertus looked up at her once more, his eyes glistening with tears. Evidently he now felt remorse for what he had done, but it wasn't enough.

It wouldn't undo what had happened here.

"I hope you can live with yourself after this," she spat coldly, before turning her back and walking away.

Section D, it would take her a while to get there, but if she had any hope of doing any good here then she had no choice but to make it. With any luck, she would see Luche there and finally have her vengeance for what he did to Crowe.

...

Why didn't she just take a car? Right, because that would have been far too easy. Night had settled in on her journey and her prediction about daemons invading the city was right. The original reason she was out on her own in the first place, the large tentacled daemon that had crash-landed in an airship was still unseen but she knew the location and would go take care of it after she was done helping Nyx. He may very well be the last of her friends left alive, the last one that was fighting for the right side. She scoffed at her own thoughts as she pressed on.

Her gladius was still in her hand tightly. Athenacia had been fortunate not to run into anything overpowering. One swipe and they were dead, scrubs not the best armour, however, she had no time to go and change. Plenty of time for that when she defeated her enemies and made her way out of the city. With less to distract her, fatigue was able to settle its way into her bones, the girl barely sleeping in the last two days and had hardly stopped moving - just like when she was a Glaive that fought in the war. No matter how hard she tried running away from that life, it was hot on her heels, following her to the brink of oblivion it seemed.

The screeching of tires in the distance, followed by a loud crash snapped her awake and immediately she began to run to the source of the noise. Athenacia was still a long way off, a scream echoing into her ears. Now more than ever she wished she had the King's magic, not that she warped all that often but it sure felt a lot faster than what she was doing now. The girl ran as fast as her feet would carry her, finally reached section D with her eyes widening upon the scene before her. Libertus was reaching toward Nyx, who was on the ground with Lady Lunafreya behind him. Her arm was up in defence, while Titus Drautos, General Glauca, was swinging his massive sword down for the killing blow.

"Nyx!" Athenacia shouted as loud as she could.

But the Glaive didn't seem to hear her. The physician watched in horror as the massive blade was coming down upon him and the Oracle and despite that she readied her weapon, she wasn't completely certain about what she was going to do. Hopefully her aim was still as deadly as it used to be, a silent prayer in her head as she prepared herself. Just as she was about to launch, a shield erected around them which threw Glauca off as Nyx used lightning to blow away his enemy. Athenacia's eyes widened at what she was seeing. He still had the King's magic? Now wasn't the time, as she made her way over toward them without another second thought. Libertus had also come to stand beside Lady Lunafreya, as Nyx was on his feet. The three of them watched her as she approached.

"Cia," Libertus still kept the guilt in his voice from their previous encounter.

"What are you still doing here?" asked Nyx almost in shock.

"I was coming to warn you, but luckily someone else made it here first," she smiled at Libertus.

"I'm sorry," said Libertus.

"Don't be," replied Nyx, "You saved me. Now I owe you."

"For a change," the large man smirked.

Nyx returned the smirk, "I'm gonna need another favour. Meet Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, our Prince's beloved bride-to-be. She has the future of the world in her hands. Keep her safe, get her out of Insomnia."

Libertus nodded at his friend before Nyx turned towards the Princess.

"Oh, I almost forgot. You'll need this," said Nyx, handing her a very small object. Athenacia frowned in thought, obviously missing something here, "Give Prince Noctis my regards. Libertus will take care of you from here. Have a safe journey, your Highness."

"Nyx!" Athenacia shouted at him in alarm, frowning.

"What will come of you?" asked Lunafreya

"What the hell are you doing?" demanded Libertus.

"Following the King's orders," replied Nyx.

"I will see the ring to Noctis," said Lunafreya, "The future will be safe. I swear it."

Libertus held out his weapon to his friend, however, the Glaive just shrugged it off.

"Planning on punching your way out of the city? Keep it. Now we're even."

"No," replied Libertus fiercely, "We'll settle up once you're back in Galahd. Me and everyone else will be waiting for you."

Nyx smiled, "I'm counting on you... Hero. All of you, get going."

Libertus and Lady Lunafreya began to walk toward the car that wasn't damaged, one of official Lucian royalty. Athenacia remained, staring at Nyx still intently. The man met her gaze and only smirked, fingertips absently running over his knuckles. The doctor wondered what he had done, how he was wielding the King's magic while he was dead - though was desperately trying to ignore the real answer in the back of her mind.

"You're not going to make it out alive, are you?" she asked finally.

"No, I'm not," he replied.

Athenacia sighed heavily, her grip on her weapon lost completely. It fell to the ground with a clang but it was far from her ears as his hands came to rest upon her shoulders. There was nowhere to look but his face, all the memories of their youth flashing before her eyes. The smile he was giving her, she remembered seeing it for the first time and how it made her feel. Even now, after all this time, it had the same effect on her. Nyx placed a gentle, lingering kiss to her forehead and tears welled up at the bottom of her eyes. Athenacia broke then, hugging him close and letting herself sob once she felt his own arms come around her. Eyes squeezed shut, her body shook slightly with her own whimpers, unable to believe that this was the last time she was ever going to see him. She had lost so much already.

"You were right," he whispered.

The girl tensed, opening her eyes. The way he was speaking, so tender like the way he used to when they once were close, it made her draw in a quivering breath in a poor attempt to compose herself. To get lost in the past... well, that would be a fleeting dream.

"About what?" she asked.

"It just wasn't meant to be. The timing was never right."

Athenacia almost laughed at how stupid it was for him to bring that up right now, "Shut up," she told him, holding him tighter.

Nyx ran a hand through her hair, not even commenting on the tangles and allowed them to finish their moment. Another kiss was placed at the top of her head and it was then she begrudgingly pulled away from him, offering him a weak smile while he gingerly rubbed her tears away, holding her gaze as he did so. Nyx was looking at her the exact same way as he did all those years ago before they parted ways, she remembered it all so well and how she hated herself for what happened. Absently, her fingers came to curl around his wrists as he continued to cup her cheeks with his hands, thumbs wiping any fresh tears that escaped her. It was like nothing had changed, even in this dire moment.

"I hope that guy looks out for you," he said finally, voice still as soothing as ever, "And I hope you let him."

Athenacia scoffed as another tear fell down her cheek. She was about to open her mouth to respond but nothing she said would have been heard. The moment was lost, the two of them hearing a roar in the distance. The pair of glowing red eyes, the ones she as chasing in the beginning, it was close.

"Ultros," said Nyx in disgust.

"I'll handle him," she replied, her eyes distant as she stared in that direction. Athenacia turned back to face him, "You take care of yourself, even if you plan on dying."

The Glaive nodded at her, placing a hand on her shoulder, however, their moment was short lived once more as Glauca began to stir. This wasn't her fight, she would leave him to it. Athenacia caught sight of Lunafreya and Libertus reaching the car they were going to use to get out of the city. Immediately she raced toward them, reaching the Princess just before she was about to get into the vehicle. Lady Lunafreya looked at the young doctor curiously.

"I know you have a duty to the Prince, but could you please do me a small favour?" asked Athenacia tentatively.

"Anything you need," the Oracle nodded.

The physician reached into her pocket, pulling out a silver chain. It was the necklace she usually wore, a disc with a tree inside of it. This was her only real keepsake, something that she had since she was a child. Truth be told, she didn't think she would make it out of the city either, so she placed the necklace in the hand of the Oracle, sighing as she did so.

"When you find the Prince, he'll have companions. Give this to the biggest one and tell him I'm sorry," instructed Athenacia gravely.

Lunafreya looked at the girl sadly, nodding once at her, "I'll see that it is done."

"Thank you."

"You're not coming, Cia?" asked Libertus, almost in shock.

She shook her head, "No," she answered, looking over at Ultros, "I've got some unfinished business. Safe journey," and she took off toward her target without another look back.

...

Athenacia was positively exhausted, head in a haze and magic no longer able to heal her after the day she had. The burning flesh of the deceased all around invaded her nostrils, ears ringing with the destruction of her home at the hands of Niflheim and their daemons. Whatever Nyx had planned, she hoped that it was enough. The roar of her enemy closing in on her position had her head to the heavens, nothing but black smoke and flames greeting the night sky and wishing to bring a tear to her eye. Purple tentacles came to engulf everything they ran across, destroying with every touch. The beast was injured that much was for certain, even a daemon wouldn't be able to escape an airship crash unscathed. Exhaling deeply, she was closing in on its location. The tremors beneath her feet were getting stronger, increasing their pace as she ran to her destination.

The girl had to keep going, throwing herself to the ground, finally reaching her target and narrowly dodging a thick purple tentacle. The wind raged against her skin, keeping her on the ground as she hastily took the bag off of her back and shot to her feet. Jaw set, Athenacia charged toward Ultros, the daemon that was destroying her home and constantly haunted her nightmares. Dodging another tentacle, she whipped around and struck the third that was coming for her. The gladius was stuck partially against the thick armoured skin; so when the tentacle moved it pulled the blade with her attached to it. Ultros shrieked as she was flung around like a piece of trash, keeping a death grip on her weapon while detaching it from the tentacle and falling quickly to the ground. Her entire body was rigid, bracing herself for pain and sticking her gladius straight into another approaching tentacle. The whip from her body suddenly changing directions nearly broke her arm but she pushed through it and waited until she was closer to the ground. Yanking again on the weapon, she was pulled free and tried to aim for one of those glowing red eyes. Ultros roared and knocked her back before she could make contact. Athenacia let out a large cough as the wind was taken from her from impact to the streets of Insomnia.

With her head in a haze, she rose to her feet slowly. That inhuman scream reached her ears, nearly deafening her. Weapon in hand, she pursued the creature and attempted again to do some sort of damage to it. It was so much bigger, more powerful than the last time she had faced it years ago in the war. Athenacia was also much weaker than before and knew that there was no way she could win. So be it. As her attempts grew more persistent, she was only getting more and more injured. She had to fight consciousness with the last hit, her body making an indent with the force used to drive her away.

Athenacia gasped for breath, trying to will the air into her lungs. A rushing in her ears took over anything else she was meant to hear and everything started to have a red tinge to it. Eyes scanned over the destruction around her, wheezing breaths keeping her conscious though just barely. The once tall buildings of Insomnia were dwindling down, bodies strewn all over the streets and flooded with debris. More dreadnaughts made their appearance, following in the wake of another red-eyed daemon bringing devastation. The diamond weapon, the one that defeated her years ago and the Glaives before a treaty was even thought into existence. But it was being detained by a force like nothing she had seen before. Blinking hard, it was familiar blue sort of flash. Athenacia blinked again and everything turned red once more. On the third one, she knew it was Nyx and she knew that she had to help him. If Ultros got anywhere near that battle, he would surely lose. Her skin was beginning to burn, body spent and refusing to move from its spot no matter how much she willed it to. As everything had finally settled on red, she managed to twitch her finger. That was a start. Taking another rasping breath, she blinked her eyes. Still her vision was stuck in red but it was enough to bend her knee so that her foot was flat on the ground. Every movement was nothing but pain, however, she had no choice, she had to get up and fight. Screams of past comrades and civilians reached her ears, causing her to blink again, taking in another breath. Her other knee bent and she put her foot flat on the ground.

The doctor willed herself to move, the cries of the beast before her getting ready to kill her. There was no way she was going to take this lying down, even as her skin continued to burn and in agony, she slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. Her eyes were glossed over as she could hardly process what was going on, just knew that she had to stand. Tears began to well up within her eyes at the pain she felt with every shallow breath she took in, crying out when she pushed herself to her feet, her legs trembling beneath her at the sheer weight of herself. Everything was that same burning red that she could see, almost like she was within a dream. Her body was persisting with agony as the tears started to fall. Her skin was on fire it felt like and everything only grew redder and redder. Athenacia felt a tentacle on her back, trying to push her down and cried out at the impact, but her voice was drowned out with the wail of pain that emanated from Ultros. Breath heavy in her own ears, she struggled to stay on her feet, hardly able to lift her hands to block any more attacks even though none came.

Doubling over and hugging herself, tears poured freely down her face while her skin only grew hotter and hotter as the seconds passed. Athenacia whimpered, terrified at what was happening to her. Ultros, the purple tentacled daemon with many teeth and glowing red eyes was unable to grab her but persisted his attack anyway. Her body writhed in agony at all the abuse it had taken since the fighting broke out. The inhuman scream of the daemon attacking her sounded in her ears and she managed to crane her neck up, looking at the oncoming attack.

Her skin only burned hotter as she braced herself for impact. This was it, the end of her journey. After all she had been through she was actually welcoming death, she would finally be able to rest peacefully. Memories of all the people she was close to raced by in her mind, of Tash and Crowe that didn't deserve to die so suddenly, of Gin, who was safe in Lestallum now and would have her baby. Athenacia regretted that she would never meet the ginger-haired woman's child but at least it would be safe, have a chance at life. She thought of Nyx who was giving his life to make sure the daemons were subdued just like she was, of Cor, the man who pulled her from the orphanage and stood by her side her entire life. The man who raised her and taught her to fight, the first person ever in her life to notice her existence. Finally, she thought of Gladiolus. More tears streamed down her cheeks as the memories she shared with him clouded her mind, their relationship and how he made her feel stung into her bones no matter how much she tried to forget him. At least her last moments weren't spent alone and bitter.

The deafening scream of Ultros sounded in her ears once more. Athenacia wailed at her own loss and hoped that she would no longer feel any pain. Her legs were trembling beneath her as she could feel him closing in on her. She did everything she could, at least she felt that way as she hugged herself tighter. A gasp erupted from her lips when her body felt completely aflame, seeing an azure glow start to form on her skin. The tension built up within her, an undying need of power trying to burst its way out. Athenacia couldn't, had no idea who was still near this area, however, she couldn't hold it long, her body weak from all the fighting. The gust of Ultros bearing down upon her, grazed her skin, reminding her of what she had to do.

That was when she started to scream. Athenacia felt her throat hoarse as her cry pierced any and all that could hear it. The azure glow that surrounded her released in a burst of power unknown. Tears were still streaming down her cheeks as her mouth projected her howl. It echoed throughout the city and the azure dome that came from her flew out slowly, incinerating anything that touched it. The trail of destruction ranged wider and higher than ever before. Ultros was no more and neither was anything else in its path. The buildings that surrounded her, the enemies, the dead bodies all disintegrated into dust while she still wailed.

Then there was silence. Athenacia began to sob once it was all over, holding herself tightly while her body quivered. Her head was hit with a wave of dizziness and she struggled to stay conscious. The gravity weighed upon her, arms dropping from her abdomen and shoulders completely slumping. She couldn't fall,, she could not fall. The girl forced her eyes open, seeing nothing but glowing embers in front of her. Weakly, she took a step forward, only to stumble and have her body give out entirely - but she didn't hit the ground like she had expected. Someone had reached from behind and caught her shoulders, holding her up effortlessly.

"You survived," it was a man with a thick accent and an amused voice, one she didn't' recognize, "I must say that was a good show," he complimented her.

Athenacia tried to form words but nothing would come out. There was no way to relinquish herself from his hold, far too weak. The stranger forcefully whirled her body around so that she was facing him. Again, she attempted to defend herself but only ended up falling into the mysterious man's chest. A light chuckle at her feeble protests of his person was felt against her cheek. He held an arm around her shoulders while her head flopped around with her inability to hold it up on her own. The lack of willpower made it so that she didn't even react the way she wanted to when she felt her feet lift off the air as his other arm held her up by her knees.

"You just keep amazing me as time goes on. Turning up in places I never thought you'd be," he purred, looking down at her.

Hazel eyes were glazed over, but she tried to focus on the person. Her skin crawled at his touch and she couldn't will her body to move much any more than it already was. Grunting, she narrowed her eyes as she tried to get them to focus on his face. He was wearing a hat, his hair longer and reflecting in the flames with a violet ting, amber eyes were amused as they regarded her. Evil was all she could think as she looked into them. This was not someone she wanted to be near her whatsoever.

"Who are you?" she croaked out weakly.

"I've been many people. But today, my dear, I am your saviour," he smiled brightly at her.

"No," she protested, out of breath.

Athenacia brought her left hand to push him away from her, wanting desperately to free herself of his grasp. It was to no avail, her body so frail after everything that happened. There was simply no strength left in her, no longer even able to fight with herself to stay conscious as her head drooped one final time and the darkness took over. Her head hit his chest, her body going completely limp as she passed out in the arms of a man unknown.

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