#i imagine in his first form his mouth appears only for the wail

[onmyyan]

Straight Venomous ch.6

A/N: I’ll give u 2$ if u pretend this was posted in a timely manner. No but seriously thank you for sticking with me I love this story!! Feedback is always welcome please lmk what y’all think if you want more of a certain character or what!! Also if you want to be added to the Taglist lmk!! This chap is pretty Tim/Jason/Bruce centered but next chap will have everyone!! EDITED 1/11/2023

TW: cannon typical violence, Yandere themes, Cursing

Taglist: @foggyturtleknightangel @j-ma26-rb @bandaged-despair

”This wasn’t the kind of protection I imagined-“ You paused both Symbiote and human left too stunned to speak at the looming gates of Arkham, old and imposing as ever. Seriously all they needed was a moat and the dungeon vibe would be complete.

“-When you said it be somewhere He’d never look.” You finished with a squint at the Halloween attraction that was Arkham Asylum.

”Well I didn’t lie did I?- he won’t.” Oswald smiled, more to himself than anyone in particular, his magenta-tinted Versace shades glinted in what little light Gotham offered.

”If you're telling the truth about him being interested in you, you’ll be out in a breeze. Think of this as my final test, your last hurdle.” He finally turned to look at you, his form as ridged as ever from the back seat of his Mercedes.

”If you survive I’ll genuinely have some use for you.” His sleek black car sped off without another word, if you didn’t know better he seemed almost uncomfortable, like if he got too close the building's jaw would open and suck him back in. 

No more than a second passed before the stone-faced man beside you set his firm grip on your arm.

The man currently dragging you like a raggedy Ann doll was dead silent, letting the wails from within echo that much more. It took more self-control than you anticipated not to rip the arm off of you (and off in general)

‘I get to eat these ones right?’

“We’ll see buddy.” You muttered, too uneasy to care that you’d responded out loud, if anything it made you fit right in.

The guard ‘escorting’ you in had an iron grip on your arm like you were gonna book it the second you could. The almost eerie silence of the lobby was immediately replaced with screaming from all directions.

The air inside Arkham was sterile and thick, if anguish had a smell it is the one invading your lungs, they gave you the almost cartoonish black and white striped uniform the rest of the inmates dawned and shoved you into the common area, after your third ignored question you figured it is best to observe, men and women sat in the large cage, a few tables and torn up sofa chairs adding to the bleak atmosphere. With a huff, you managed to find an open seat, the whispers, and eyes following your every move.

It didn’t take long for the biggest man in the room to lumber over, his brooding figure stood above you. A perfectly shaped brow rose in question at his sudden appearance. 

“I’d ask if I can help you but I really don’t wanna.” You spoke at the giant, eyes flickering over your nail beds. “The names Al.” He leaned on his knuckles, hot breath wafting over your skin making you wince. 

“You start a fight? You ask me first. You need to piss? You ask me first. I run shit in here and I’m only gonna tell you’s this once.” He spoke in a gravelly voice. A bit of spit landed on the table in front of you. “Are you high? It’s amazing they let inmates smoke.” His hands slammed into the metal before you, shaking it with enough force to knock over the tray of food beside you. “You’s looking to get that pretty face of yours fucked up huh? I don’t tolerate that kinda’ shit bitch or not.” Once more his breath fanned over you in a hot wave, and your expression twisted into a grimace. He took that as a sign of fear, grinning darkly from across you.

”I’m in a forgiving mood, maybe if ya get down and put that smart mouth to use-“ your hand twisted his collar, smashing his head to the table twice before releasing the now bloodied man. He stumbled backward into another inmate, clutching his broken nose, tears streaming down his face.

”Y-You bitch! Yer fuckin’ dead for this shit ya’ hear?!” He barked out, blood splattering through his fingers, a loose tooth falling from his maw as the surrounding people didn’t spare you a passing glance, all except the ginger staring at you with the stars in his eyes, an almost eager look on his face. Like he was waiting to see what you’d do next. 

You stood with a sigh, stepping over the small pile of blood he’d left in his scurry backward. You now towered above the trembling man, as he tried to stand you kicked him in the chest as hard as you could, a crack of something breaking echoed throughout the loud room, his limp body slid back hard enough to crash into the wall, your eyes widened at his now still form. “Oops. Too hard.” 

‘Can I have a bite? Just a nibble, as a treat.’

”Absolutely not.”

’you never let me have any fun!’ The child of a Symbiote grumbled in your head. You heard the rushed footsteps of a group of people, most likely guards quickly storming their way to the commotion. On instinct, you sat as far from the body as you could, which just so happened to be on the busted-up sofa, near that oh-so-attentive ginger. He watched you with a wide, skin-splitting grin, his green eyes were almost too vibrant, and pale skin contrasted against bright red hair. 

“That’s certainly one way to make an entrance doll face.” He grinned even wider, resting against his fist, eyes flickered over every inch of your resting frame, you mimicked his stare, fighting the urge to look at the now scrambling guards, two of them held batons, electric you imagined, they bullied their way past the straggler’s lingering around the body, freezing at the sight of the corpse. “Move! Every one of you pieces of shit against the wall!” The shorter of the two barked out, threateningly pointing his baton at the group of inmates. 

“Come on sweet cheeks - we better get moving fore’ they get twitchy.” The redhead pulled you up and to the side, with a speed you hadn’t anticipated from him. He stood tall against the peeling wall, much too eager at the sight of blood.

”Alright- which one of you shit stains did this huh?!” The same guard from before spoke again, making his way down the line of people, most were too delirious to comprehend his demand, and the few still coherent said nothing much to your surprise. When he made his way to you, he lingered. “You see something interesting meat?” He sneered down at you, the crackling baton dangerously to your eye, it took more self-control than you’d like not to shove said baton up his ass.

”Oh I’ve seen something real funny.” The ginger spoke from beside you, it made you tense, would he be so quick to snitch?

The stodgy guard spit at the taller man’s feet. “Valeska. What am I gonna have to do to get you to shut the fuck up?”

”Hm, maybe a gag? Although you’ll have to use your own, I left mine back with your mother-“ the electrified tip was pressed to his chest before the snark could be finished, he crumpled to the floor with a twisted laugh, the cackle trailing into a moan at the end, his lanky form slumping against the dirty wall.

”Oh Johnny boy- I love it when you get rough with me.” The guard kicked at the still-twitching man, quickly ushering another guard to help him. “Of course it was you. Fucking lunatic.”

The drooling redhead is dragged out by his wrists and ankles, his piercing green stare not breaking until they pulled him out of sight. 

“Okay, that was a fluke. Heads down from now on V.”

There was a vaguely irate huffing sound in your mind. 

‘This is lame. I get a little bit of action and you’re pussying out.”

”Bite me you leech.” 

‘I AM NO SUCH THING (Y/N) TAKE IT BACK RIGHT NOW.’

Elsewhere

Tim was conflicted, he was almost always confident in himself and his plans, but this one was making him uneasy. He knew where you worked, and the people you were surrounded by. Penguins club wasn’t the place for someone like you, but he knew his best option was to wait for an opening to get you out, considering the circumstance. 

His original idea was to ‘run’ into you again and arrange a meeting where he could get you alone for a few hours. Get some of that electric-nerve-punching banter in again. Then he’d casually ask for your number and thus would begin your epic romance, he had everything mapped out to a T, even his family’s unusual interest in you couldn’t deter him from his bliss.

That is until you had to go and run.

Then again, he should have considered Bruce would make a move before him, should’ve planned for him to scare you off, but he didn’t. He was distracted, consumed with thoughts of you flashing through his mind like a projector on the wall. You’d taken up permanent residency in his day-to-day thoughts, and it had made him sloppy. 

You’d gotten away, slipped through his fingers just as he was closing in, you had no idea but he was planning a little ‘staycation’ at a cabin well off into the woods a few towns away from Gotham. He’d been getting to know you, the real you hidden in your private browser history and your late-night searches, and he was smitten. He’d done the math, ran the numbers, and knew the two of you were perfectly compatible, from your star sign to your favorite movie, he had all your likes and preferences listed alphabetically, and the scarily accurate list had been memorized in no time. In his frenzied- but thorough- planning he’d neglected to anticipate you pulling such a stunt but he wasn’t worried. It will never happen again. 

 He returned to the cave this morning, popping in briefly wasn’t out of the norm for Tim as the internet down here was much faster than the Portable server he had on him, and he needed this information quickly, he’s certain Bruce wouldn’t mind, he wasn’t home anyway. Alfred greeted him with his usual brand of warmth and eagerly saw him to the wall of computers he’d spent countless hours in front of. 

All was normal until the older of the two paused in his retreat upstairs, Tim could tell something was on his mind, he cocked his head at the man hovering beside him. “Everything okay Al?”

 “You’re going to see some unfinished work when you start her up,” he spoke, dismissing his question entirely, “Master Bruce had an emergency at the corporate office, which means you should have ample time to give that unnamed file a proper look.”

The grey-haired male paused as if worried about the way he delivered whatever message he had, “I believe your father would benefit from your assistance before he lets his passions get the best of him…again.” The older man spoke cryptically, patting a comforting hand on his shoulder as he retreated back upstairs. Tim paused, dark brows furrowing as he processed the old man’s words. He put a pin in his original plan for coming down here, instead of focusing on that pesky mystery file, he knew it burn him up inside if he didn’t at least peek through his father's new dirty little secret. 

The last thing he expected to see was your face, every possible angle of that perfect face. A concerning amount of shots of your dark (e/c) eyes, in a few you even stared directly at the camera, almost as if you knew you were under the harsh eye of Gotham's most dangerous predator. A scoff bubbled up past his lips, his free hand was now aggressively squeezing the little red stress ball that had sat before him, the flesh of the toy nearly burst from the force he used. It took him a few minutes to calm down, once he could think a little clearer, the plan began to form behind his eyes.

He now knew of his Mentor’s dark obsession, his twisted focus on your life and being. Honestly, Tim was worried about his Father, it wasn’t healthy to harbor such intense feelings for someone you didn’t know- Bruce didn’t know you, Jason didn’t know you- Dick sure as shit didn’t know you. None of the others did, not like Tim. He’d be able to read you in ways you’d always wanted someone to. But before your happily ever after could start, he was going to use his family’s dark obsession with you to his advantage, this and this alone is what pushed him to tell Dick you lived with Jason, Why he was letting the older male crash on his sofa bed, and it was the only reason he’d been pulling the strings behind the scenes. It didn’t take much to find your current location, all he had to do was give himself access to every camera in Gotham and run that Gorgeous mug of yours against them, granted once he actually found you he nearly had a heart attack, why in the hell were you beating the bricks off some schmuck in Arkham? After forcing himself in check he quickly saved the footage of the incident, his mind running a mile a much on how to spin this in his favor.

 He made a point to linger in the cave, Bruce was back within an hour, his steps rushed, eager, and Tim knew just who he was rushing to.

”Hey Bruce.”

The older man paused his trek to his desk, finally noticing the man in his seat.

”I didn’t know you were stopping by.” He responded gruffly, his long fingers moving to nimbly undo his tie.

“Well, I was in the neighborhood, needed Ol’ reliable’s for some intel. Nothing too fun.” Bruce made a noise of acknowledgment, now undoing the buttons on each sleeve, “Find what you were looking for?” Bruce was calm as he rolled up his sleeves, if Tim was anyone else his calm facade may have worked. But he wasn’t just anyone. He was nervous. The thought made Tim smirk, he dropped his face to a more neutral expression, turning to face his Father and Mentor. 

“Sure did.” He rose from the seat without pause, “Even had time to look into that folder for you- Alfred said you might need a little help.” 

Bruce didn’t falter in his movements, his expression remained in its usual stoic demeanor. 

The tension in the air had Tim’s heart pounding against his ribcage, Bruce Wayne was the variable he couldn’t plan around, and it made him dangerous.

The older man had an aura of authority around him in or out of the suit, Tim knew this could be a monumental setback if he reacted negatively-

Bruce quickly sat with an amused huff, turning on the monitors with practiced ease.

Just like that the tension evaporated. 

“Exactly how are you going to help me, Tim?” The statement had weight behind it, two dark pools of blue clashed in the reflection of the computer, his fathers accompanied by a lifted brow, his facial expression almost daring Tim to say the wrong thing.

The younger of the two wordlessly typed in a few words on one of the smaller screens pulling up the feed of Arkham’s common area. The video was dated today and was only about an hour old, the footage itself was your run-of-the-mill CCTV quality, so it wasn’t the clearest, but Bruce immediately recognized you, and his heart all but stopped, forced to watch as you were put in the exact kind of situation he was fixing to keep you from. His fists clenched so hard the skin on his knuckles turned white, he wasn’t so shaken at the way you’d brutalized the man, but rather the fact that you were surrounded by such individuals in the first place. Logically as a Metahuman he knew you were the strongest person in the room, but this fact didn’t give him comfort. It did the exact opposite. You’d found yourself cornered in the most dangerous situation and he was all but helpless to get you out.

He knew he couldn’t waltz in there and pull you out, okay he very well could, realistically he could leave now and have you back in time for dinner, but he also knew he needed to pace himself. Because Batman doesn’t break people out of Arkham, no matter how badly they don’t belong. His nostrils flared at the screen. His original plan to observe you from afar was thrown out the window the moment Damian took an interest in you, this Bruce could understand, he even planned for the scenario of you running from him, he hadn’t anticipated this is where you’d run through. 

A beat of silence passed between them before Tim began making his way back upstairs, just before the elevator doors could close he made sure to get in one last quip to seal the metaphorical deal, something that would give Bruce no choice but to intervene.

“I hope that poor girl is safe in there.”

As the doors shut on his Father, a small but genuine smile grew on his face. Now that he’d gotten Bruce in the game it wouldn’t be long until you were right where you belonged, right where Tim could see you without a screen in the way. 

Elsewhere

Jason does a lot of thinking now’a days. He thinks about where it all went wrong when you started hiding things from him. Of course, he couldn’t be upset with you for feeling unsafe enough to run, he hunted murderers and scumbags on a daily basis, if you were intimidated by his occupation, he could understand. But the longer he sat with the thought the less sense it made, he could keep you safe, he could keep the bad shit away, and you knew that he’d saved you as the Hood once before, so what could have changed your opinion so fast? That is if it was a what.

If it wasn’t a what it had to be a who.

As Jason’s mind worked a mile a minute, he paced, and when he had walked a dent into the floorboards, he turned to his favorite outlet. Some people preferred to jog or write when they got stressed, and Jason liked to clock into work.

Usually, he started with a steak-out, leaned against his Harley Davidson* custom in some rank alley, the flickering fluorescents occasionally catching his helmet in a menacing shine. He always chose the most time-sensitive task he caught on the police scanner not-so-legally installed in his bike, but his brain was far too muddled with thoughts of you to put his all into work. It had been a grueling 12 hours since you’d made a break for it and ripped his sense of peace out with clenched fists.

 You’d taken up permanent residence in the worst way, he tormented himself with the most gut-wrenching kinds of scenarios. The intrusive kind where you came under harm because he wasn’t strong enough to stop you- no he wasn’t prepared to stop you. The moment you left was playing on loop, specifically, that split second he had where he could’ve taken you out from behind, gently subdued you until he could find out what had you so scared. 

But he didn’t, he couldn’t force himself to move in any way that would harm you, it went against every cell in his body.

And now you were gone.

 A bitter lump had taken up in his stomach, made of ice and nails, every moment he didn’t know where you were, its spikes dug their way in deeper. He feels stuck in that moment of the horror movie where you see the monster coming but the girl doesn’t, but unlike the movies, Jason can and will be doing something about this monster. He just has to find it first.

No one was talking and that meant one of two things.

You were working close to someone with enough connections to concern Jason, or you were-

He had to physically shake the thought away. Not willing to entertain the idea for even a second. He could feel it, you were fine. In a ludicrous amount of danger yes, but alive. And that’s all he needed. Because when he found you again, he promised himself he’d keep you safe, he knew something major had happened that night forever ago when you crept into the apartment so eerily, leaving a trail of murky water as you passed. You’d been different, in little ways, offering to get the takeout instead of ordering in and always coming back unscathed despite where you lived. Of course, he had to follow you, he vividly remembers a man running through busy traffic to avoid you, of course, Jason marked it as odd from his view above the streets, but he couldn’t have known you were well whatever you were, from that alone, what really clued him in was how confident you’d become before he could only hope you’d chime in the conversation with him and Roy, desperately trying to include you and praying it wasn’t obvious, now you spoke your mind no matter what, almost like you couldn’t help it, and it made your light burn even brighter.

He was beyond excited when you began to open up, the two of you bonding in the kind of way people wrote stories about, slowly, surely, at your pace, you’d begun to unravel the layers of each other. And then someone came along and ruined everything. 

Jason also thought a lot about what he was going to do to this person when he got his hands on them.

The only reason he wasn’t beating the answer out of someone right now was because he was running on fumes and he knew it. Roy had just barely managed to talk him out of his gear. “I care about her too Jay.” The redhead gave Jason’s back a comforting squeeze.  “I’ll ask around some places you can’t okay? This is (Y/n) we’re talking about, wherever she is, she’s in control.” It was that last thought that pacified him enough to passively pace himself into a silent almost boiling anger. It was in this quiet, dangerous moment, his least annoying sibling strolled in the front door like it was an everyday occurrence. 

“You are bad, Roy was right to call me.” The voice of his replacement spoke suddenly, Tim had been snapping his fingers in an effort to clear that dark haze that had begun to fog over his brother’s eyes.

Tim was concerned, that much was obvious from the tone he used like he was speaking to a wounded, feral, animal. As he snapped a few more times in front of his face, Jason’s eyes focused on his successors, “I’m fine. How long have you been there?”

”Long enough J.”

The older of the two sighed deeply through his nose, his thumbs rubbing long circles into the sides of his temple. 

“Yeah okay, I spaced a bit who cares? You really here to check on lil’ ol’ me?”

”Nah, mostly just to tell you your little girlfriend there works for Oswald.” 

His smile fell instantly. You were forced, no choice, blackmail maybe? Debt? Did you gamble? Cashed a favor? 

“Are you absolutely positive?” Tim’s face held rather calm at the ever-growing frustration of his predecessor. He could tell how worked up Jason was, to think (Y/n) had such an effect on him, he looked like a puppy dog waiting on its owner to come home.

“You need some serious sleep- and that’s coming from me so,” Tim said not answering the older man’s question, with a deep sigh he shoved the taller of the two onto the couch, soon sitting beside him, it didn’t take long for Tim to set up his two favorite machines, bulky things he’d built himself that way too many people wanted to get their hands on, lots of dirty little secrets embedded in their code.

Tim was worried. More worried than Jason could comprehend. Because he knew exactly where Oswald had put you- a glance at the unusually shaken man beside him was all he spared as he continued to type- now wasn’t the time to share, that would come later. A time for everything as they say.

Right now all Jason needed was a way for you to get out of the snakepit you found yourself in, so that's what Tim gave him.

"Bruce has a file on your girl, think it has anything to do with her new occupation?" He spoke offhandedly, silently observing Jason’s reactions. That’s all he needed to say, the show had officially begun.

"No." Jason's answer was quick and concise, the lost look had faded from his gaze, hardening into his thinking face. His back straightened, muscles coiling like a snake in the grass. 

He cracked his neck, tired eyes once more meeting Tim’s, “Bruce n’ I need to have a little chat, that’s all.” He was out the door before Tim could stop him, not that he would, this was all going exactly as he’d anticipated. The match had been lit, it was only a matter of time before the fuse blew, the question of the hour was who would break first? Tim’s bet is on Bruce.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere dc imagine #fanfic #yandere dc #straight venomous #yandere damian wayne #yandere batfam #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere tim drake x reader #yandere bruce wayne x reader

[bridgertonbabe]

the irwin au is so cute, you're so creative!! how do you imagine edmund presenting each of the benophie babies in lion king's style? I can only imagine he would be so proud with all of his grandchildren

Edmund makes a big deal of presenting each and every one of his grandkids Lion King style, gathering all staff members of the zoo by the crocodile enclosure before he jumps onboard the little platform where he gives his daily demonstrations and welcoming the team to his newest grandchild.

Charlie had been grumbling in his mother's arms when she and Benedict had joined Edmund on stage, but once he was handed over to his granddad he magically settled, captivated by Edmund's exuberant smile. He was then raised aloft, momentarily bewildering the infant before the staff gave their three cheers. Though perplexed, Charlie did gurgle in appreciation and when he was lowered and cradled by his grandfather, quietly dozed off as Edmund voiced his wonder for his daughter-in-law for bringing her first baby into the world.

Alexander had been fairly content when he was brought onstage in his mother's arms, but in stark contrast to his brother, as soon as he was passed over to his granddad he began crying, distressed to be parted from Sophie. Even though Edmund rocked him gently and tried to ease him (normally he was a natural with babies, having a magic touch of settling his young grandchildren in an instant), Alexander wasn't having any of it, and he only wailed louder when he was raised up and received three cheers. Edmund laughed off his grandson's upset and handed him back to his mother, and once he was safely back in Sophie's arms fell quiet instantaneously. "Well someone's gonna be a mama's boy, just like his father before him." Edmund chuckled, loving the parallels between Alexander and Sophie with baby Benedict and Violet before them.

William had been wriggling in his father's arms when he was brought up to the stage, not being so much uncomfortable as he was enjoying stretching his body, quietly occupying himself with his own movement. He gurgled in greeting as he was passed to Edmund and then when he was held above his granddad's head it looked as though he was smiling from all the attention - and then a very small yet audible passing of gas was heard. Charlie and Alexander, who were in their mother and grandmother's hold, both began giggling with glee at their baby brother's flatulence, and very quickly their infectious laughter led to everyone joining in. "Proud of yourself, are you?" Edmund asked his grandson when he lowered him back into his arms, amused by William's infantile antics. His grandson appeared to smile again - only this time a very wet sounding fart erupted from him. Edmund held a hand up when Benedict rushed forward to take his son from him, and then William was taken by his granddad to have his nappy changed.

Violet was an angelic sleeping beauty in her father's arms, utterly undisturbed despite the constant noise that followed her brothers around. When she was passed over to her granddad she remained sound asleep and even when she was held above Edmund and given three cheers she slept peacefully, resembling a perfect cherub in her swaddling. It was only when Edmund cradled her and pressed a kiss to her forehead that any sort of reaction was extracted from his granddaughter. Her face creased ever so slightly and then her mouth formed a perfect "o" as she yawned. Edmund waited expectantly, thinking she was about to stir; but by all accounts baby Violet was merely yawning in her sleep and she continued to rest. She was then passed back into her father's arms where she remained sleeping peacefully for a couple more hours before awaking, but even then, when she acknowledged she was in her father's hold, she didn't make a sound, being perfectly content to be held by Benedict.

#asks #irwins au #benophie babies #edmund bridgerton #charles bridgerton #alexander bridgerton #william bridgerton #violet bridgerton ii

[aterfish]

Some people were wondering how he looks under the hazmat suit, and I was about to say the same as in canon, but who cares about the canon, let's have some fun design instead.

So right after losing the suit he is in a form that has a lot of energy and also space themed bc why not

and as those energy levels stabilize, he starts to look more like a halfa

#i imagine in his first form his mouth appears only for the wail #it is a personification of every trope in dp i love #in his later form he is still all floaty and has puffy hair #hazmat!danny #danny phantom #phandom #dp #what if reverse colors but not quite #dp au #containment breach au

[ererokii]

i formally request that you write monsterfucking with zhongli absolutely fucking the shit out of us #monsterfuckersuniteagain

— god’s servant

warnings: monsterfucking (in a way) degradation, finger humping (yes that’s right) power play, overstimulation, dacryphilia, humiliation, dry humping, overstimulation wc: 1.9k

note: zhongli is enormous in this fyi, so he’s over 10ft tall, please read the warnings carefully and if you are uncomfortable, scroll away and do not leave unnecessary comments// thank you for requesting i had a fun time writing this <3

You’ve grown accustomed to your current lifestyle— the basic definition of sitting still and look pretty for all to see. You didn’t hate it at all. You lived in wealth and luxury, everything was at the tip of your fingers.

Many came far and wide to give reverence to the Almighty and ask for blessings for days and years to come. You’ve started to familiarize the faces that came more than once, yet you never spoke a word to them (not like you wanted to anyway).

Always, you sat in the palm of his hand, his fingers curled up to keep your small body from falling off. Eyes would stare down at you with adoration and a burning passion. Just the feeling of him underneath your legs was enough to get your blood pumping. You were given a name for your appropriate duty— Morax’s Precious Thing.

His elbow is propped against the stone armrest of his chair, knuckles against his chin. His head is cocked to the side faintly, his lips curled up in the smallest of smirks— amber eyes staring down at you. You always felt small against his streaks, figuratively and literally.

Morax stood at 15ft tall, looking over every human in his nation and could practically squish them with the step of his foot. It was easy to say he was very intimidating, able to strike fear in anyone who dared do him wrong.

“Are you too afraid? Is it too big for a small thing like you?” He asks, voice booming overhead as he shifts, looming his hand over and barely rubbing the top of your head with his finger.

“No,” you say confidently but by the way your legs tremble contradicts your statement. He chuckles and taps your side, your body moving with his motion.

“Come on then. Be my good little human and please me.” His voice is like silk to your ears, just him talking was enough to have your thighs pushed together for some friction.

In between your legs was his middle finger. Each digit was about the size of your body, if not bigger.

He stares at you expectantly, waiting for you to start moving. Your small hands grip the sides of his finger to the best of your ability.

Your cheeks heat up, averting your eyes from him in embarrassment. “Come on.” He urges, moving his finger slightly, the ridges bumping against your bare cunt— a delicious shiver going down your back.

Your hips stutter forward, digging your nails into his skin as you start off slow. Huffs and puffs escape your lips as you gather your rhythm, grinding down against his finger. Soft moans reach his ears and he hums in approval. 

“Look at you,” he coos, almost laughing at how desperate you look. You peer up through your lashes, tears forming by the edges of your eyes. “My little human fucking herself on my finger. Does that feel good? Or is it too much?”

“I-It’s great!” you gasp, your clit dragging against him. You mutter things underneath your breath, maintaining eye contact. Morax shifts in his seat, legs spread open in a comfortable position. His hood covers half of his head, the clothing stopping above his navel, exposing his skin to everyone. 

“You look so pathetic,” he says, squinting down at you. “Imagine if everyone found out how much of a whore you were, humping away at my finger like an animal in heat. What do you think they would say?”

You glance down, gaping at his slick covered finger, your juices practically drenching him. Not pleased by your lack of responses, he bends his finger, the knuckle hitting your clit. You cry out, leaning forward as if you were going to hug it. “P-Please!”

“Please what? You’re going so slow. Go faster, you know I won’t wait long.”

Afraid at his threat, you whimper and go faster, the aches in your hips starting to become unbearable. The bumps and ridges of his finger send your eyes rolling into your head, back arching. Your breasts bounce with the fast pace, his eyes locking onto them. They’re so small, yet look so adorable to him. Everything about you was so adorable.

You were his little human and he cherished you no matter what. Yet he used you for his own pleasure. Numerous occasions he would use your body to get him off. His hand would be wrapped around your torso, careful to not hurt you and drag your cunt against his cock. In a matter of seconds you would be cumming, but he still had a lot in him. 

“M-Morax,” you call out to him, biting down on your lower lip. “I can’t do it anymore! Please!” tears cascade down your face as you helplessly jerk your hips against his skin. Your legs tremble, breathing unevenly as drool dribbles down your chin, landing on your thigh. 

Your god doesn’t say anything, only staring down at you. He refuses to move, he wants to see you lose yourself, aching and crying as the feeling is too much. Morax tells you often how pretty you look getting messed up from the smallest of touches, it was truly pathetic.

“You look so helpless,” he says in a loving tone, reaching down and petting the top of your head with his thumb in a mocking way. It makes the pit of your stomach twist in a way you love. He always talked down on you like this, and his words did nothing but turn you on even more.

“Do you need my help, you precious thing?” he asks and you nod quickly. Your jaw drops as a shiver runs down your arms, a burning sensation running over your body. Your hips stutter in place, head hanging back in a silent cry. You tremble, feeling yourself about to give out.

“It seems so,” he mutters, wrapping a finger around your torso, lifting you off of his finger and onto his palm, sitting you down. “And it appears you made a mess on my finger.” He lifts his other hand up, examining the essence that runs down.

You don’t pay mind to his next movements, but hear the rustling of clothes that you’ve drowned out right after. He lifts you up once more, before placing you down on something that makes you gasp.

You tense up, lifting your head and catch his stare. His creme cheeks hold a pastel pink, his mouth parted open and a content sigh rips from his throat. 

The head of his cock snugs in between your open legs, the strain in your muscles adds onto the pleasure.  His finger around your torso tightens slightly, not wanting to crush you nor wanting you to fall. 

“I got you. It seems something as small as you will collapse right now. Isn’t that right?” He smiles and you can’t help but whine at his teasing. You wriggle your hips in his hold, mewling at the sensation already. 

He grunts lowly, letting you move on your own first. You gape up at him, your fingers gripping the plush of your thighs. You felt full and there was nothing instead of you. 

There’s a mutual look of love shared between the two of you, a burning passion igniting inside. He begins to move his hand slowly, dragging your body back and forth on the tip of his cock. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut, letting him take the lead. Your head hangs back, mouth parted for wanton noises to be heard by all. 

Your pussy feels amazing against him. Morax moans quietly, watching the way your slick drips down the base of his cock. His pre-cum sticks to the inside of your thighs, the smell reaching up to your nose that intoxicates you. 

Your body is overly sensitive from your previous orgasm and you were certain you would break in the next few minutes. 

“So gorgeous,” he says, using his thumb and taps gently at your chin, forcing you to stare at him. “You look so heavenly. I could eat you up.”

The sinful noises sound like rich melodies. In a place that was meant to be pure, only used for reverence and praising their Lord, Morax— was instead tainted with your degrading acts. Your moans bounce off of the golden walls of his domain, the sounds circulating and reaching the depths of his abode.

The squelching noises your cunt made as he grinded you down was heavenly, every noise you made, every noise your body made when he had you like this-- open and submissive to him was heaven on earth. 

He remembers the first time he had you like this. Poor thing, you were deathly nervous to even sit on his finger. After some reassurance, you gained the courage to do so. And once you did, you couldn’t get enough, and certainly he couldn’t either. 

Any mere mortal could walk through those gold gates in the front to come worship their God and find him using you, his little human as his personal cocksleeve to please himself. You would have died from embarrassment, but you could care less.

Your breath hitches when the head bumps against your clit, repeating the action. Pleasure skyrockets at the simple gesture, your wails increasing in volume.

One of your hands reaches forward and grabs at nothing, pleading eyes staring up at him. “God please don’t stop!”

You’ve gone delirious at this point. You’re unable to think, the only thing fogging up your mind was the feeling of his throbbing cock against your body, the head forcing your legs wider as he grinds you against him.

Your hand slid up under your silk dress, tweaking your nipple between two fingers, tugging and rolling it. You gasp out, clenching around nothing as you cry out.

As you convulsed on him for the second time, he didn’t show any signs of stopping and in fact, moved you faster to chase his own release.

“Morax,” you sob, placing your small hands on his finger that’s wrapped around you. “I can’t handle it anymore.”

“Yes you can,” he grunts, his hand stuttering in place. Choked breaths and moans get caught in his throat, his eyes squeezing shut.

His lower lip quivers faintly, his hips beginning to grow restless as he thrusts up unintentionally, causing a scream to erupt from you. His cock bumped against you a bit rougher than you had expected, yet it felt amazing. 

His head hangs back against his stone chair, a vein popping in his neck as he fights the urge to let out a noise, his body not moving until you feel something warm shoot past your thigh and into the air. You quickly shut your eyes, flinching when some of the substance lands on your body.

The inside of your legs are covered in slick and his seed. The feeling began to get uncomfortable but you didn’t want to move just yet. The act was overall lewd, but it made you feel excited even after it was done. 

Your body trembles as you slowly come from your high, gasping and staring down at your hands. Filthy, but endearing. You bring a finger to your mouth, tongue swirling around it as you clean it off, humming around it. 

You’re absolutely drenched in his seed— head to toe if you must say. But after doing this for so long, the feeling of it and the smell brought you comfort in some twisted way. It was his way of marking you as his as he would tell you and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Morax stares down at you through lidded eyes, a small smile cracking at the corner of his lips. “Looks like you need to be cleaned up.” he says through small pants, adjusting you as you are now seated on the palm of his hand. “We wouldn’t want you to drown either, hm?”

You huff, puffing your cheeks out as you avert your gaze from him, having enough of his teasing due to your height. “It’s not my fault you’re insanely tall and I’m short.”

“It’s all more endearing, my love.”

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#zhongli x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader smut #tw: monster fucking #zhongli zmut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #zhongli imagines

[you-are-my-joy]

The Return of an Empress | 07

Title: The Return of an Empress

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Isekai, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Smut (Later on), Slow burn

Characters: Empress!Reader, Advisor!Jin, Advisor!Yoongi, General!Hoseok, Advisor!Namjoon, Assassin!Jimin, Knight!Taehyung, Knight!Jungkook

Word count: ~9k

Summary: After one fateful night, you find yourself transmigrated into your favorite novel as the Empress that shares the same name as you. As a bookworm, most would think you’d be happy, but how could you be happy when the Empress you’ve become is expected to be killed in three months. The only thing on your mind now is to learn how to survive.

Warning: May contain depictions of violence and mentions of abuse throughout the story.

Masterlist 

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In the 380th imperial year, on June 9th, two days after the nobles were caught red-handed and thus apprehended, was the day of the largest massacre of high nobility in the history of the empire. 

At 8 am in the morning, a total of 18 of some of the most well-known and influential nobles of the empire were executed by the city plaza.

With tired steps, you trudge inside your bedroom, immediately falling onto the comfort of your bed. You let out an exasperated sigh, tossing your head back until it rests on a nearby pillow. Despite getting rid of the duke and the rest of the nobles, you can’t help but still feel a sense of unease and tension. Would the original empress make the same decision? You don’t know the answer, but what you do know, is that you’ll most likely be haunted by the cries and screams of those who lost their lives today for the rest of your life.

It’s one thing to actually read of the graphic murders and deaths that occurred in the novel, it’s a whole different story when you actually experience and see first hand how gruesome the public executions truly were. Back in your world, you’ve never witnessed anyone’s death before, as it was the 21st century, public executions were prohibited decades ago. But suddenly you had to endure an entire morning witnessing the horrifying deaths of 18 people as their heads detached from their body, a large pool of blood staining the once clean pavement. 

You weren’t keen on torturing people, so you were merciful in the sense that you chose to execute them through a beheading, with a fresh and sharpened axe to be exact. In this world, beheadings, although gruesome and bloody, were seen as the most ‘humane’ form of execution as the deed would be done in one swift motion, a painless execution to some extent. 

You remember hearing many of the nobles and commoners who attended the public executions express their disappointment at your choice, thinking you were being much too kind considering the heinous crime they committed. Despite their disappointment, they were slightly relieved over your choice, many were still skeptical over the empress’s supposed changed behavior, but seeing you wince and grimace at each beheading finally convinced them otherwise. 

News spread like wildfire around the empire about what had occurred at the party, news articles being published nearly a day later. The most popular topic of course being the Grand Duke himself drugging the empress, and so countless of nobles all around the empire scurried to watch the spectacle. Thus, the grand finale of the execution came when former Grand Duke, Lee Joong-Gu finally stepped forward. 

Many people had looked at him in disgust, throwing rotten fruits and vegetables his way and cursed out his name. The entire time, he wore a solemn expression as he kneels down without complaint unlike the rest of the criminals who wailed pathetically until their last breath. 

You remember that in the midst of it all, he had looked up at you, your eyes instantly locking with one another, and you swear from where you stood, you saw a hint of remorse and guilt in his face. Your mind reeling as he tearfully mouths ‘I’m sorry’ to you, but before you could even react any further, the axe gets raised in the air and in the next second is swung down with much force. His head rolling down the pavement as the cheers of the crowd rang out excitedly at the gruesome sight. 

However, the cheers seem to fade from your ears as all you can focus on is the dukes rolling head. And somehow it stops, facing in your direction, empty eyes that were once so full of life, ingraining themselves in your memory forever. You blink away the tears forming in your eyes, confused as to why your body was reacting like this. You flinch as you stare at his body slumped over, but your view gets blocked when Jungkook steps in front of you.

The entire morning, Jungkook and Taehyung have been right beside you, acting as your escorts as you had requested. Always attempting to block your view when they noticed your grim and disgusted expressions at each beheading. Jin and Namjoon were also present, but they stood a few meters away from you, ensuring that the executions ran as quickly and smoothly as possible. Hoseok was present as well, but as the general, he was in charge of security and surveying the city plaza, prioritizing your safety over everything else.

The only ones who hadn’t shown up were Yoongi and Jimin. Yoongi, you had expected, though you had a glimmer of hope that he would make an appearance, but Jimin? You thought he would come to greet you after the party, but you haven’t seen him since he left you by the ballroom doors. You were extremely worried, thinking something bad had happened to him, but Namjoon reassured you that he was fine as he had ran into him the other day. He further informs you that Jimin wasn’t feeling good, which explains his sudden absence. Though you remained unconvinced, you choose to give Jimin his needed space, thinking it would be better for him to come to you when he was ready.

When the executions were over you stood up from your seat, ready to leave the area in a hurry as the overwhelming stench of blood nearly made you puke on the spot. But suddenly you heard loud cheers as everyone directed their attention to you, “All Hail Empress Y/n!” many of them yelled out, grinning at you as they praised your actions. 

You hadn’t expected to be well received so quickly, since less than a week ago, some of these same people trembled in fear over your presence. You send them a charming smile to express your gratitude, but this only seemed to ignite something in them as they seemingly cheered your name even more.

Despite the cheering, all you wanted to do was go back to the palace and rest. So here you are, groaning as you lay flat on the spacious bed. You feel the bed dip slightly to your left, prompting you to open your eyes to see Jungkook looking down at you with a small smile. “How are you feeling?” he reaches his hand out to gently brush a strand of hair in front of your face. 

“Absolutely exhausted,” you let out a groan, closing your eyes once more. And you weren’t only talking about the past few days. It seemed that you were never truly able to catch a break the moment you arrived in this world. You can’t even imagine the amount of work the past empress had to endure. 

Taehyung, having found comfort in your couch situated in the middle of your grand bedroom, hums at that, “Mentally or physically exhausted?”

You scoff before letting out a yawn, “Both.” 

Jungkook nods as he moves his hand away from your face to lazily trace shapes on the palm of your hand, “I'm sorry to hear that your majesty,” he replies, sending you a pitiful look, as he notices traces of stress and exhaustion written on your face.

Still with your eyes closed, you rest for a moment, “It’s fine. This is my duty as the empress.”

Jungkook nods, “I understand, but before you’re an empress, you’re a human. You need to rest, your majesty,” he says, concern laced in his voice as he continues tracing odd shapes on your palm. 

Though after a while, you’ve come to the realization that rather than shapes, he was actually tracing your name on your skin.

You open your eyes to stare at Jungkook who was too distracted writing your name to pay attention to your gaze. You just stare when a sudden thought crosses your mind, “Hey Jungkook, can you try calling me by my name?”

Jungkook seems to freeze in his spot, his hand stopping right above yours as he stares at you with wide eyes, “Pardon?” this seems to gain Taehyung's attention as well when you see him from the corner of your eye snap his head instantly in your direction.

You shrug, sitting straight up now facing him. Both your faces nearly inches apart that Jungkook instantly blushes and shifts a bit further away from you to calm his racing heart, though you take that gesture as discomfort instead, “What’s wrong? You don’t want to?”

Jungkook stutters as he waves his arms in front of his face in an ‘X’ shape motion, “N-No, It’s not that I don't want to… but why are you suddenly asking that of me?” Both Jungkook and Taehyung stare at you in a mixture of confusion and interest since they haven’t addressed the empress by her name in nearly 3 years. Not after she had scolded the both of them until they complied to her wishes. 

“I figured we might as well go back to our old ways you know?” you suggest, but after taking in their shocked reactions you quickly add, “Of course if you’re uncomfortable with my request then I don’t want to force you to do anything. But I do give you permission to call me by my name when it’s just us.”

Jungkook turns his head to Taehyung as they look at each other wearily, as if doubting your words and thinking this was all just one big test. He hesitantly turns back to you, “Is that truly alright?” he asks while fidgeting nervously with his hand. 

“Of course it is,” you smile reassuringly, your eyes staring at him in anticipation, “will you?” You ask, you try to hide your excitement in order to not pressure him, but who were you kidding, it’s practically written on your face.

Jungkook’s lips curve upward slightly as he couldn’t deny your request, especially when your golden eyes shined brightly at him, “Yes…. Y/n…” though he had said it in a shy whisper, you still heard him loud and clear. You didn’t think hearing your name come out of his mouth would affect you so much but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling widely. It’s times like these that you’re extremely grateful for sharing the same name as the old empress. 

“Woah that’s not fair,” you turn your head to find Taehyung with his arms crossed, playfully glaring at you both, “why does he get special treatment and I don't?” 

You chuckle as Taehyung's pout reminds you of a child who got their toy taken away and wants it back. Your amusement grows even more as you sit back and watch Jungkook be equally as childish when he sticks his tongue out at the older knight. And Taehyung, the ever mature knight, mimics his actions in return. 

You grin at the older knight, wanting nothing more than to ruffle his hair, “this applies to you as well Taehyung.” 

Taehyung finally turns to you after seemingly having a contest with Jungkook on who can contort their face in a mocking way better, “thank you… Y/n,” he replies softly with a gentle smile now on his face. 

They’ll admit, addressing you by your name sounded strange coming out their mouth, but they couldn’t deny the nostalgic and warm feeling in their chest when they finally did. And your smile definitely brightened their day even more.

“Y/n.” you hear Jungkook call out softly, though he flinches when he gains your attention. 

You furrow your eyes in confusion at his odd reaction, “Yes?”

You notice his cheeks glow with a tint of red, “Sorry, it’s nothing. I just wanted to say your name in front of you,” the ending of his sentence becoming a soft whisper as he was embarrassed to have been caught by you. But he should’ve known better than to believe your ears wouldn’t catch him. 

You have to mentally slap yourself to stay calm and composed as to not squeal in delight to embarrass him further. So to spare him, you fight back a giggle as you beam back at him, “you’re more than welcome to call me by my name anytime you want Jungkook.” Gaining a wide smile from him in return.

“Y/n?” Taehyung suddenly calls out, causing you to face him now. Though he chuckles at your raised brow, “I’m not just calling out your name, I genuinely have a question.” You chuckle right back, nodding your head, gesturing to him to ask his question. “Are you still feeling sick?” You understand he wasn’t referring to earlier, rather he was talking about your symptoms from withdrawal. 

Thankfully after properly taking medication daily or as suggested by the royal physician, you’ve been experiencing a lot less symptoms as the days go by. Joy reminding and ensuring that you actually took them definitely helped with the process. 

You nod sending him a soft smile, “no, I’ve been feeling a lot better nowadays. Though, I’ll admit I kind of want to throw up. But I’m pretty sure the main perpetrator to that is the blood.” Despite having left the plaza awhile ago, you seemingly couldn’t get rid of the stench of blood in your nose. Even just the thought of it makes you involuntarily gag. 

Jungkook softly chuckles, “from being in countless battles, you’d think you’d get used to the sight of blood,” he jokes with a teasing glint in his eyes as he grew bold enough to hold your hand after tracing on it for so long.

You stare down at your joined hands, his large ones nearly covering yours completely. You feel him squeeze your hand lightly prompting you to look up at his mischievous grin as he caught you staring. You playfully roll your eyes, “it’s been awhile, alright, I forgot,” you grumble.

Though Taehyung hums at that as leans his head back on the soft cushions of the couch, “you seem to be using that excuse quite often,” he mutters, not looking you in the eye, but instead choosing to stare out your window.

At his statement, you gulp nervously. You immediately take note from the corner of your eyes the prying look of Jungkook as his hold on your hand seems to tighten. 

But before you could come up with yet another excuse, you hear a knock at your door. Someone was definitely looking out for you as you had no idea how to respond without you being even more suspicious than before. 

You sit up straight, briefly glancing at your knights who refuse to look you in the eye before calling out, “come in.” You quickly let go of Jungkook’s hand causing the boy to snap his head in your direction before his shoulders seemingly drop. Though he doesn’t say anything more as the doors to your bedroom open wide.

Soon enough, the double doors reveal Hoseok, Namjoon and Jin. They bow out of respect before briefly making eye contact with Jungkook and Taehyung, to which they send a curt nod, acknowledging each other’s presence.  

For some reason, you felt a shift in the air as the three men stepped into the room. As if they were... hostile? But that doesn’t make sense, you question. Shouldn't they be on good terms with each other? You thought, but you were so wrong when you could feel the tension around you. Something unspoken between the five males. 

You understand that you haven’t known these men for long, but even you could tell that there was a sudden shift in their relationship. You saw it in the ballroom and now your suspicions are confirmed when you observe their body language in front of you.

After many moments of silence, Namjoon finally turns his attention to you, “more of those journalists keep requesting for your time your majesty,” he reports, only now do you notice his tired eyes. He must’ve been dealing with those journalists since he got back, and from what you know, they’re almost as ruthless as those in high society. 

But before you could respond, you hear Taehyung let out an annoyed groan from where he sat, “They bombarded her all throughout the morning, can’t they give her a break?” he scowls when turning his head out the window as he caught a glimpse of those pesky reporters from the border of the palace walls. Their cameras steadily aimed at the palace, hoping to capture a lucky shot of the empress. 

“It’s alright, I can handle them,” you reply, having already mentally and physically prepared yourself for this since you knew this would be a hot topic in the empire. A topic that the reporters wouldn’t let go of until they were satisfied. But just as you were about to stand from the comfort of your bed, you feel a hand gently rest on your shoulder, prompting you to turn and find Jungkook staring at you in concern. 

“Y/n, you need to rest,” Jungkook says softly, “you truly did look sick early, maybe it's from withdrawals or maybe it's from the blood, who knows, but I think it’s best you rest for the day.” You knew it would be hard to go against Jungkook, especially when he had that determined look in his eyes. Though that wasn’t what everyone else was thinking as his statement piqued their interest. 

“Y/n?” Jin questions loudly. He had thought he was hearing things, but by the looks on Namjoons and Hoseok's faces, he indeed did hear correctly. Jungkook had addressed you by your name. 

The boy blushes, not having realized he had blurted out your name in front of them. But before he could explain himself, Taehyung beat him to it.

“Y/n gave us permission to call her by her name,” he boasts with his head held high as if he was bragging about some great achievement he got. Which in a way, it kind of was. 

Hoseok raises his brow as he turns to look at you now, “may I know why?”

You clear your throat, “well, when I got rid of the alcohol and drugs in my system, I wanted to make things right and go back to how they were before. So I gave them permission to address me by my name like old times,” you reply confidently, having already prepared an answer for this question long ago. 

Though after some time, Hoseok’s blank face shifts, “I see,” he replies with a smile, but you knew better than to trust that, you knew hidden in that expression was a man that still had doubts despite witnessing the downfall of the nobles before his own eyes. You had thought Namjoon would be the one you needed to be careful of, but it seems you were wrong in that sense as you become anxious at Hoseok’s judging stare. 

Jin clears his throat, an attempt to get rid of the growing tension in the room, “we also came to discuss plans regarding the property of the nobles as well as what's to come with their families and who would be the ones to take their positions,” he pauses before nodding his head in Hoseok’s direction, “we brought along Hoseok in case military services were needed.”

You nod, though you couldn’t help but wonder, “Where’s Yoongi?” 

Jin stills for a moment before tilting his head, visibly confused from your question, “why are you suddenly asking for him?”

Now it’s your turn to be confused as you furrow your eyebrows, “Because he’s also one of my advisors,” you answer as if it was obvious. 

As if sensing your confusion, Namjoon responds, “pardon our rudeness, your majesty. You just don’t normally call on him for these types of things.”

Now you’re even more confused than before, “I don’t?”

Namjoon nods his head in confirmation, “I believe it’s because he’s not from nobility, that it may hinder and influence his judgment on these types of cases,” he explains in the nicest way possible. 

Dumbfounded, you remain seated on your bed, “I see,” is all you could utter. You knew that out of the 8 of you, the only ones who came from nobility were Namjoon, Jin, and Hoseok. Their families were one of the few nobles who secretly opposed the former emperor, which made it easy for the main character to gain their support in the rebellion. There’s no doubt that Hoseok’s military family, Namjoon’s intelligence, and Jin’s abundant wealth, had an immense influence on the success of the rebellion. 

Of course that’s not to say that the others are any less important. Jungkook and Taehyung were among the best of the best in terms of strength and fighting, not to mention Jimin being an ace when it came to agility and swiftness. They had the skills to go against opponents 10 times their size, and yet somehow win. The three were known to be the best fighters in the empire, after the empress herself of course. Afterall, they learned everything they knew from her. 

Yoongi on the other hand, proved himself to be worthy to stand by the empress’s side as an advisor due to the fact that when it came to forming tactics, he always had the perfect plan to go along with every scenario. Much of the rebellion's success was derived from the various attack plans that Yoongi came up with.

He also knows how to handle her the best out of them all. He knows how to approach her when she gets mad or upset. And he is one of the few people who isn’t afraid to go against her if he needs to, only with her and the empire’s best intentions in his mind. 

But when it came to politics, Yoongi had a harder time due to the fact that he was just a village boy who didn’t receive the same amount of education as Namjoon or Jin. Granted neither did Y/n, having been born from the same village, but she was so determined to become the empress that she worked strenuously day in and day out in order to fit the role. Having Namjoon as her teacher definitely helped the process run smoothly. 

Sure Yoongi isn’t as book smart as Namjoon, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t smart at all. You know that despite things being said about him, his words and inputs at national council meetings have proven to be of great help to the empress and the empire in the past. 

And so without another word, you stand up from your bed with a newfound determination. 

Jungkook and Taehyung eye you in concern. “Y/n?” Jungkook asks, reaching out to hold your hand, causing you to stop in your tracks. 

“I’m going to go and personally find Yoongi. Regardless of our differences, he’s still my advisor, and his presence is just as important as every single one of you.” You feel Jungkook loosen his grip on you, allowing you to slip away from his grasp. 

“Shall we escort you there?” Jungkook asks tentatively, while Taehyung had already stood up, prepared to follow you on your command. 

But instead, you shake your head, “Considering what transpired last time, I don’t think it’d be wise to bring either one of you two along,” Jungkook rubs the back of his neck while Taehyung turns away as they’re both suddenly reminded of the way they had behaved towards Yoongi. Although they were opposed to the idea of you going alone, they couldn’t argue with your statement, since even they don’t know how they would react if they were in each other's presence again. 

“I’ll accompany her majesty,” Hoseok suddenly speaks up with a raised hand, resulting in everyone turning their heads in his direction, “I think it should only be fair after all,” he pouts, lowering his hand to cross both his arms across his chest. 

Namjoon raises a brow at his claim, “Fair?”

Hoseok nods as he accusingly points at every man in the room other than himself, “Every single one of you have spent more time with her than me, that's why I think it’s only fair if I escort her,” he declares with a puff of his chest. 

Taehyung scoffs at him, “Can you blame us? We’re her escorts, of course we’re going to spend more time with her,” he fights back a roll of his eyes due to Hoseok being of a higher rank than him. 

“Exactly, so I hope you don’t mind me stealing your ‘Y/n’ for the time being,” and before you could even utter a word, Hoseok strides towards you, reaching for your arm and practically begins dragging you out the room, “see you boys later!” 

Jin shakes his head disapprovingly as he watches Hoseok roughly pull you, “would you be more careful with her majesty!” 

Hoseok scoffs, “She’s not weak,” he responds as he turns around abruptly, your chest nearly colliding with his if it weren’t for his arms steadying you. 

“I agree, but she’s also not a ragdoll that you could just push around as you please,” Jin snaps back at him, eyes narrowing at the grip on your arm.

Namjoon nods his head at this, “Indeed. Be more gentle Hoseok,” he warns sternly as he shifts his body towards the both of you intimidatingly. 

And you don’t even need to turn around to know Jungkook and Taehyung were both shooting daggers at the general. 

Hoseok sighs and finally lets go of you with his arms raised above his head in defeat, “alright alright I get it. I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Though the men in the room only stare at him with unconvinced expressions as he smiles innocently right back.

You stifle a laugh at their reactions and begin to turn to leave, “we’ll be leaving then,” at this you turn to stare at each one of them, “while I’m gone. Behave.”

Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms as he plops back down on your couch, “We’re not children Y/n.” But his pout tells you otherwise.

The corners of your lips quirk upward in amusement, “could’ve fooled me.”

He turns to you with an offended expression, mouth wide open and before he could give you a piece of his mind, you scurry out the door with Hoseok tailing right behind you. 

“Y/n!” You hear Taehyung’s voice yells out as he appears by the doorway in a matter of seconds. 

You turn around and almost laugh at his dumbfounded expression. Though, you nearly trip over your own two feet if it weren’t for Hoseok skillfully reaching out and steadying you. You quickly thank him before looking back towards your door to now find the rest of the men staring back at you. 

“We’ll set up a proper meeting tomorrow! See you boys then!” You call out before you’re reaching for Hoseok’s hand. He widens his eyes for a moment staring down at your joined hands before he feels you pull on him in the direction you were running to. 

You could still hear their protests coming from your bedroom as both you and Hoseok run away. But Hoseok can’t help but be more focused on your angelic laughter over everything else. 

“So what did the general want to talk to me about so badly that he wanted us to be alone?” you say finally after creating a fair enough distance from your bedroom.

From the corner of your eye, you see him smirk, “What makes her majesty think I had ulterior motives?” he asks innocently, his pace matching with yours as you both walk down the quiet halls.

You shake your head with a smile, “because you’re Hoseok,” you reply with a teasing glint in your eye. 

Hoseok lets out an offended noise as he dramatically brings his hand to his chest, “That hurts your majesty,” he pouts, “couldn’t I have just wanted to spend some time with you?”

You laugh at this, “Sure, but you and I both know that that’s not the case,” your mouth forming a smile, an attempt to show him you meant no harm. 

Hoseok finally lets the innocent facade fall as a smirk begins to form on his face, “Our empress sure has a sharp mind,” you hum in reply, prompting him to continue speaking,  “you’re right, I did want to talk to you.”

Though after some time walking in silence, he speaks up again, “But I had nothing in particular to talk to you about, I just wanted to see for myself whether you had truly changed or not,” he responds bluntly. 

“Your verdict?” you question with your arms behind your back, a carefree aura surrounding you. 

“Hard to tell for now,” he teases with a wink in your direction, “however, something tells me it won’t be long before I give you my answer your majesty.”

“Well let’s hope it’s an answer we both will like,” a wide optimistic grin now on your face.

Hoseok stares down at you, giving you a small smile in return, “Yes, let’s hope.” 

You two don’t speak for a while, though you can’t say it was awkward. There was a comfortable air between the two of you that you actually didn’t mind walking together in silence. You took this moment to look around the scenery, admiring the window view as you don’t really have much time to do that since Taehyung, Jungkook and even Jimin would often preoccupy your attention, not that you were complaining about their company, you rather enjoyed talking to them. But you can’t help but be grateful for this moment to yourself. So for the time being, you just look out the window, little did you know, Hoseok was staring right at you. 

Hoseok couldn’t help but admire the way the sunlight glows on your skin as if you were an ethereal being. Even the slight quirk of your lips mesmerizes him as he watches you bask in the sunlight. A picture perfect moment that he desperately tries to ingrain in his mind. 

“You know, you’re more than welcome to address me by my name as well Hoseok,” you suddenly speak out, turning your head causing the male to widen his eyes momentarily at your abrupt attention. 

But Hoseok’s eyes soften, giving you a small smile before turning his head straight in front of him yet again, “I’ll keep that in mind... thank you.” 

Neither of you speak again after that, just enjoying each other's company in silence. And after everything that you’ve been through, you didn’t realize that this was exactly what you needed. 

“Hey Yoongs”

The man hums, his eyes closed as he lays comfortably against the grass right beside Y/n.

“You’ll be with me forever right?” the young girl speaks up after some time.

At this, Yoongi opens his eyes as he stares at the far away look in her eyes, “Of course Y/n, where else would I go?” he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “why do you ask?”

She shrugs looking straight up at the passing clouds, “just making sure,” the wind softly breezing against her hair.

Yoongi nervously laughs as he turns away from her, “Sorry, but it’s gonna take a lot more for you to get rid of me,” Y/n chuckles at this causing the corners of his lips to curve upward at the sound. “Unless I got it all wrong. You’re not trying to run away from me once you become empress are you?” he questions with a teasing tone. Though he had a smile on his face, he couldn’t deny the feeling of anxiety at the possibility of her leaving him.

She scoffs before turning away, “Of course not, what would I do without you nagging me all the time, you’re practically my brother at this point.”

Yoongi feels a pang go across his heart as he faces away from her, “... right… you just see me as a brother huh,” he mumbles, more so to himself but she could still slightly hear him.

She tilts her head in his direction, “hm?”

Though he just shakes his head, “Nevermind,” now sporting a more cheerful expression as he nudges her shoulder playfully, “so suddenly I’m your brother huh?”

She nods her head, turning away from him, focusing her attention back to the sky, “Of course you are, what else would you be?” she genuinely asks.

Yoongi stills for a moment before responding with a long sigh, “Nothing,” he pauses, watching the clouds pass by both him and her as they lay on the grass in peace, “absolutely nothing.”

“Her majesty told me about it and left the job to me,” Jin responds in a tired voice as he lets out a sigh. If he had known accepting the empress’s orders would lead to this, he would’ve never done so in the first place. Because not only does he need to deal with a pile of work, but also a very pissed off Yoongi. 

“Why would she give you all the work and not me?” Yoongi asks, tone slightly offended and irritated. 

“I don’t know Yoongi, why don’t you just ask her yourself,” Jin replies tiredly as he massages his temple at his growing headache. It’s not that he wanted to get rid of Yoongi, but because he himself couldn’t provide him an answer to his question. He too couldn't understand why Y/n would give him all the work instead of him, frankly he wishes she would divide up the work evenly but alas, that doesn’t seem to be the case as every inch of his desk is nearly covered in piles of documents. 

Yoongi lets out a huff of air before standing abruptly. Jin stares at him and widens his eyes when he notices that he’s about to leave. Nervously he stands from his seat as well, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to ask her myself,” Yoongi replies as if it was the most obvious answer, his hand reaching for the door handle.

Jin gasps, “I wasn’t being serious!” he moves around his desk to grab hold of the advisor.

But Yoongi shakes his head, stepping back from his reach, “I know you weren’t, but you’re right. If I want change to happen, I need to go to her myself,” he watches concern wash over the older male before placing a hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry, I won’t lose my cool,” he says in an attempt to reassure him.

Though both Yoongi and Jin knew he was lying. He was just telling him what he wanted to hear. Jin wanted to stop him, but in the end, he lets it go since he knows that once Yoongi’s got his mind set on something, it was nearly impossible to get him out of it, ”fine, but I don’t want to hear about you getting sent to the dungeons again Yoongi.”

Though Yoongi only chuckles, “I won’t get angry, don’t stress about.”

And boy was he wrong, because it hasn’t even been 10 minutes that he walked into her office until hell broke loose. 

“Just let them handle it Yoongi, why are you so upset, I’ve given you plenty of work before,” she barks angrily.

“I’m upset, because you never give me the same amount of work as them!” He snaps back at her, tone equally as harsh. 

She nearly growls at his attitude, “Would you relax Yoongi, it’s just pieces of paper! If I had known you’d get so fucking irritated over it I would’ve sent the entire pile to you if that’s what you really wanted!”

That’s not what he wanted. He wanted her attention, her trust, he wanted to be the first person she sought out when she needed help.

He wanted her. 

“Y/n-” he gets interrupted when Y/n grabs a pile of documents and throws it in the air in front of him. He watches as the pieces of paper float down everywhere in the room, making it look as if a tornado wrecked havoc in the area. 

“Here! Just do it all for all I care, they’re just damn pieces of papers anyway,” Y/n growls tiredly. Yoongi could not have come at the worst time. Not only did she have to deal with a raging headache, but now her own advisor was yelling in her face far too early in the morning for it to be tolerable. 

She could feel her head ringing at the volume of his voice, but when she told him to leave as she wasn’t in the best mood to argue, he kept refusing stubbornly, insisting she listen to his complaints because apparently what he needed to say was so important to go against her orders. And so when she realized his important reasoning was because he was upset over his workload, her anger only rose from there. 

With her already sour mood, him snapping back at her surely didn’t help his case either.

“I have way too much shit to deal with right now, don’t add onto it Yoongi,” she spats loudly, the piles of paper covering nearly the entirety of the floor around them. 

His shoulder drops, finally coming to terms with everything as he stared into the once cheerful eyes narrow dangerously into tiny slits.

The girl before him, was never and will never be his. 

For the past few days, Yoongi had been actively avoiding not only you, but everyone else. No matter how hard they tried, neither Namjoon or Jin could reach out to him. It was almost as if Yoongi somehow knew just when and where everyone would be to successfully avoid them. 

In the beginning of the empresses reign, no one took him seriously because he wasn’t from noble descent like Namjoon and Jin. when they would attend national council meetings, no one spoke directly to him as if his previous status of a commoner was still intact. And so he had to put on this whole ruthless persona for people to show an ounce of respect for him. He had to exert more effort to prove to everyone that he was equally as worthy as the other two advisors. That he was capable of doing the same amount of work, even if he didn't receive the same strenuous education as them.

And because of the comparison between him and the other two advisors, insecurities were born and shattered his mind. 

So seeing you put your trust in Jin and Namjoon hurt him a lot more than he would like to admit. The fact that they both knew and yet you hadn’t brought it up with him once was like a shot to his heart. 

And yet throughout his time spent alone, Taehyung's voice echoes in his mind.

“When was the last time you ever treated her as one of her advisors? When have you ever truly cared for her majesty?”

He groans out of frustration at the entire situation. Because as much as he hated to admit it, he was right. When was the last time he treated her with respect. Even though the rest of the boys joined the rebellion with him, never once did they blatantly disrespect the empress the way he did. 

And with the current situation, he doesn’t even think he deserves his position of advisor anymore. Never in his life did he imagine that someone was drugging the empress. All this time, he’s been bitterly blaming the empress about the current condition of the empire when in reality, it wasn’t even her fault. He pushed her away when she needed him the most. When she was suffering he unknowingly made things worse. And because of that, he doesn’t even know if he has the courage to face the empress ever again. 

Yoongi freezes when he hears a tentative knock at his door. Slowly, he raises his head from his hands before responding in a loud tired voice, “who is it?” ready to curse out the person on the other side of the door.

“It’s me hyung.” 

Yoongi widens his eyes at the familiar voice that he can’t help but rise from his seat. He carefully walks over and finally opens the door to reveal Jimin’s figure standing before him. For a moment, the two men stand opposite of each other in silence. 

“I need to talk to you,” Jimin finally says. Yoongi nods and steps aside for him to enter, still in complete disbelief that he wanted to speak to him after everything that’s been said between the two in the past month.

As if reading his mind, Jimin turns to him with an uncertain smile, “You’re probably wondering why I'm here,” Yoongi only nods, unable to produce words at this point. Jimin stops at the center of his office before continuing, “I know we’re going through a rough patch right now, but at the end of the day, you’re still someone that I deeply care about. You’re my brother and I’m just worried about how you’re taking the situation,” he explains with a nervous expression. 

Yoongi’s eyes soften, of course they weren’t on good terms at the moment, but Jimin was right, at the end of the day, they’re brothers. He could never truly hate or get mad at him, or any of them for that matter unless they truly betrayed him. 

Jimin wasn’t certain this would be a good idea, unsure how the older male would react to his presence. And so when he hears Yoongi let out a chuckle, although not so enthusiastically, that alone causes Jimin to visibly relax.

Just then, Yoongi lets out a long sigh, “I’ll be honest, I feel like shit. But I know she’s probably going through it way harder than I am,” he finally replies as he rolls his neck.

Jimin nods, “I’m sure she is,” he mutters looking away.

Though Yoongi raises a brow, Jimim’s tone almost hinting at the fact that he doesn’t know about your feelings which was surprising to Yoongi since he knows how close he is to you. At that realization he furrowed his brows, “you haven’t spoken to her, have you?”

Jimin seems to stiffen at his claim, he contemplated lying but knew the older male would see right through him anyway, and so he just shakes his head, “no I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

Jimin lets out a low chuckle, “I wasn’t able to keep a promise with her,” he answers softly, running his fingers through his hair.

Now Yoongi was even more confused than before, he wanted to ask more questions but felt like now wouldn’t be the right time based on the downcasted look on the younger man's face. And so he only nods in return. Though Jimin’s lips quirk up, grateful that he doesn’t push the topic further.

Jimin leans against the back of his couch, crossing his arms, “I saw you that day,” he added, wanting to change the subject. “The day at the ball,” he clarifies when he saw the puzzled look on Yoongi’s face. 

“You attended the ball?”

Jimin shakes his head, “no I was watching from above, her majesty wanted me to be her ‘eyes in the sky’, or something like that,” he pauses before chuckling, “she’s been saying some strange things recently.”

Rather than laughing along with him, Yoongi can’t help but feel annoyed, “Of course you fucking knew about it, too,” he mutters furiously under his breath.

Jimin widens his eyes at his sudden harsh tone, “Pardon?” 

Yoongi scoffs, now stomping his way to his desk, “The empress told you of her plans,” Yoongi uttered with resentment, “everyone but me.” 

And as if the world wanted to continue mocking him, here you appear through the open door, with Hoseok right beside you. You freeze in your spot, when you realize Jimin, who was now staring at you like a deer in headlights, was also present in the room. Despite his surprise, he bows out of respect. Though you can’t say the same about Yoongi.

“What are you doing here,” Yoongi curses at himself, he didn’t mean to take his anger out on you. You just happened to arrive at a bad time. 

Though his cold icy tone doesn’t deter you in the slightest, “I came to inform you that we’ll be holding a meeting tomorrow,” you explain hesitantly, careful not to say the wrong thing to aggravate him even more.

He raises a brow in doubt, “you came here to personally tell me?”

You nod, “the rest of the men wanted to have a meeting regarding the situation, but I didn’t want to attend if you weren’t present.”

Yoongi scoffs, “I'm not some charity case.” Although, Yoongi can’t deny the warm feeling in his chest from what you said.

You stop, taken aback from his words, “Is that what you think you are?” you pause before continuing, “Why do you think you became one of the empress’s advisors?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at this, “Because you think of me as a brother,” he spats bitterly. 

“No, it’s because you’re one of the few people I trust most in this world, I know we had a bumpy road getting here, but you have to believe me when I say that I trust you,” you insist as you take a step closer into the room.

Though your statement seemed to have ignited a fire in him as he snaps his head to you with narrowed eyes, “If you trust me so much then why didn’t you let me know about this entire situation?!” You jump back at his tone, surprised by how angry he got.

Hoseok steps forward in an instant, “Hyung I had no idea about the drugs either,” he blurts out, trying to dissipate the tension in the room as he moves to stand in between you and Yoongi. 

Jimin nods in confirmation, shifting his body to stand protectively in front of you as well, “he’s right hyung, Hoseok also had no idea what was going on.”

“That may be true, but she still sought your help, no? She needed military strength, she needed someone to hide in the shadows and she went to you two,” he snaps at them. Hoseok shuts his mouth, unable to form words to counter his claim. 

Though it’s not like Yoongi was going to let anyone else speak, not until he was finished, “Where do I come into play? Jin hyung and Namjoon helped with the plan, Jimin looked out for you from above, Hoseok provided the military strength, Jungkook and Taehyung came as your escorts. But what about me?” At this point, Yoongi paces around the room frantically, you try to reach out to him but he jumps back as if your touch would burn him. 

“Why am I always in last place!” He yells at the top of his lungs, “Is it because I wasn’t born into high nobility like Jin hyung? Is it cause I’m not some fucking genius like Namjoon? Or as handsome as Jungkook and Taehyung. Or as confident as Jimin. Or as reliable as Hoseok?” He continues his rant when everyone is too stunned to react.

“Yoon-”

“Why am I never good enough for you!” He shouts, slamming his fist hard on his desk. The room becomes silenced in an instant. The only sounds coming from the broken advisor standing before you. 

“Am I not enough?” He sniffles, his voice cracking as he stumbles, grabbing hold of the corner of the table to stabilize himself. He bows his head low, an attempt to hide the tears forming in his eyes.

You turn to look at Jimin and Hoseok, giving them a solemn look as you nod your head in the direction of the door, wanting to speak to him privately. 

They seem to understand your gesture as they begin to silently make their way out of the room. Although Jimin hesitates for a moment standing by the doorway. He takes one last look at Yoongi and back to you, his expression unreadable before finally closing the door behind him. 

At the click of the door, you turn your head back to Yoongi, your eyes focused solely on him. Carefully, you take slow steps towards him, you don't know if he notices but if he did he didn’t take any further steps away from you. “Yoongi, you are more than enough for me, you have to believe me,” you urge as you stop a few feet away from him. Careful to not overwhelm and crowd around his space. 

His silence urges you to continue, “I just felt like you didn’t want anything to do with me so I gave you your space,” you explain softly, “But you’re still one of my advisors, I should’ve communicated with you better on the situation. I'm sorry.” 

You take a few experimental steps towards him, assessing his reaction carefully because if you saw any indication that he was uncomfortable by the distance, you would step away immediately. But he gave you none. Even when you were now standing in front of him, he didn’t make an effort to move away. Instead, he finally lifts his head, holding your stare as his tears now running down his face. 

You don’t know what got over you, but at the sight of his tears, you find yourself reaching your hand out until they cup his face gingerly. His breath hitches when your hand caresses his cheek, your fingers wiping away the seemingly never-ending tears.

“Yoongi, you’re more than enough for me,” you repeat softly as you stare into his eyes. Almost mesmerized as his glossy eyes shined back at you making it look as though you were staring at the night sky.

You lean your body forward until your arms wrap around his shoulders, bringing him into a tight hug, “I’ll always need you,” you say in a soft whisper. But no matter how quiet you were, he heard you loud and clear.

He sucks in a breath as a sob escapes his mouth. He doesn’t try to fight you, instead, he wraps his arms around your waist instantly, tightening his grip around your body.

But instead of calming down, his sobs grow louder at the feel of your body against his.

Concerned, you try to pull away but Yoongi only tightens his grip around you as he shakes his head. 

“Don’t,” he whimpers softly, clutching onto you tighter as if you would slip away forever, “please don’t leave me. Not yet,” he cries out. Your heart nearly shattering at the sound of his voice cracking. 

Your eyes soften as you once again relax in his arm, your hands rubbing his back reassuringly as he continues to cry, his tears falling onto the nape of your neck. “I won’t,” you soothe gently, “I won’t leave you Yoongi.”

He sniffles once more, “You’re really back?”

You don’t have it in you to respond with a straight answer. You just couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him like that, especially in his current state. Lying to his face knowing that the empress he knew was no longer the owner of this body. That you were a completely different person, but who in their right mind would believe you. 

So instead, you nod softly, reaching a hand to run through his hair. His tears stream down his face as he chokes back a cry at the feel of your nod. 

You smile bitterly, as you have to keep reminding yourself, the girl he loves isn’t you, it’s the empress. He’s not crying for you, he’s crying for her. 

You had seen this coming, but it still hurt a lot more than you had expected. The world for some reason just wouldn’t stop being cruel to you. 

A young man approaches the darkly lit room slowly, the only source of light being the fireplace that’s barely holding onto life as it seems as though it’s about to die out at any moment.

“Master, I’ve come with urgent news,” the boy announced, news so important he fidgets in his spot nervously as he anticipates his reaction. It’s silent in the room, the only sound coming from the crackling of the fire as the wood burns. 

There, sat in front of a large window was the boy’s master, he had not turned around to face him, instead, opting to stare up at the moon as it shines brightly down on him, “Speak,” he commands in a dominating voice.

The boy nods his head, “We received a report confirming the death of Grand Duke Lee Joong-gu as well as Sir Taehyung, Sir Jungkook, and Sir Jimin stepping down from the rebellion.”

The man hums, immensely intrigued by the sudden news, “and the others?”

The boy shakes his head, “there have been no reports being made of the others stepping down as of this moment master, though many speculate it’s just a matter of time at this point.”

The man bellows loudly at that, as he leans back comfortably in his chair, his eyes shining with mirth, “I told that damn duke not to get too greedy and look what happened. He got caught,” he scoffs as he turns fully around, hands crossed on his desk as he traces the letter he had received from the late grand duke a mere few weeks ago in a bored manner, “Seems what that fool said was of concern after all, her majesty has truly changed.”

The boy nods, “What do you suggest we do now?”

He turns back around, admiring the night sky, “tell my men to continue keeping an eye on her majesty. And report everything to me.”

The boy bows, “yes master,” he responds before turning away, ready to inform those of the new orders. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” the man whistles as he leans back on his chair, “so you truly did succeed in changing the story,” he chuckles and with a dangerous glint he stares up at the moon, “I can’t wait to meet you, new empress.”

A/N: Hey guys!! I’m so sorry for taking so long to upload this chapter, I had to focus on my final exams and all the assignments my professors piled on me at the end of the semester. So I tried to finish this chapter as fast as I could!

I hope you’re all happy with how things went in this chapter. Also sorry for all the drama, I just felt like it would be better for the reader and Yoongi to make up instead of making more chapters of them avoiding each other when they could just communicate about their feelings. 

Thank you everyone for supporting and reading my story! I also love receiving all your kind messages so thank you so much for that!

And as always, I hope you have a wonderful day!!

Tagslist: (those in bold, I’m not sure if it worked for you, I’m really sorry, I’m not sure how to fix it) (I also apologize if I forgot to add someone, just comment again and I promise to add you in the next one!!)

@reallysparklychaos, @unknownsageking, @casspirit0705, @fangirl125reader, @silscintilla, @serefara29, @chimtaesty-main, @xxqueenwxtchxx, @diamonddia-mond, @vishakhas-world, @purelyecstacy, @resticou, @woopetals, @magicsweetener, @splaterparty0-0, @daydreambrliever, @strangeobjectmaker, @luna-xial, @m0chilattae, @celaenaelentiyavox, @lindsayjoy444, @layzfeelit, @kimsaerom, @songtiddies, @untamedgrape, @sonnymii, @moonssuga​, @kassandravictoria, @galaxyflab, @blank-et-noir, @nynhope , @midnight1199, @yessii-i, @protontippens, @gguktings, @borahebangtan, @katkrusade, @handsupanddropthepotato, @missseoulite, @cellula-staminale, @red-bow-tie3, @whateveritis616, @ggukkieland, @sbroces, @nnessworls, @yoonieebear

#poly bts #poly!bts #bts au #bts fanfic #isekai #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

[b0ther]

tags : drabble/one-shot idk. feminine pronouns, afab reader / royalty or kingdom au, inspired by kill the villainess, eating out, semi-public and clothed though they don’t have sex yet lol we’re gonna have to wait for part two, this was supposed to be short but i got carried away bye.

i’ve been reading a lot of reincarnation manhwas, and i can’t stop thinking about knight yuuta.

knight yuuta with tough, veiny, calloused hands, his fingers are long and pretty and knuckles are chipped with dried blood; a boy that spends his days practicing his swordsmanship against a dull dummy until the sun sets. knight yuuta who is then knighted by a duke’s daughter, whose lips are zipped with obvious intention to display her disinclination to be in the ceremony. knight yuuta who follows the lady home that night, three steps behind her at all times, and recognizes that the vicinity around her isn’t the one that he is welcomed in; knight yuuta who doesn’t speak of it or point it out either way.

“i don’t need a knight,” the lady then says one afternoon, eyes closed as she sips on her most favored flavor of tea under the bright sunlight. knight yuuta is sitting across her, eyes vigilantly watching her every move and ears perked up as if someone is going to ambush her in her own garden — he insisted that the lady enjoy her afternoon tea alone, you see, that he isn’t fit to be sitting on the same table as a lady. but she looked up at him with disinterest that struck his chest, questioning his loyalty to her. he immediately took the only empty seat on the round table.

the duke’s daughter, knight yuuta quickly learns, has a cute side to herself. she keeps him close to her, in the mansion and in the castle, even when she told him that she has no need of him to be around. she takes him to the market, and inside extravagant boutiques that he had never thought that he could enter. and though she has her own lady-in-waiting, she prefers discerning his opinion over hers. knight yuuta does not think of dresses often, and so he carelessly picks ones that he thinks would look best on his lady, and waits just outside the changing room.

but she drags him in, her touch delicate and unforgettable, it’s the first time he’s been touched by those soft hands — she smells of lemon cakes and roses; his lady closes the door and tells him to sit on a chair on the very back of the room. one servant argues — it would be improper for him to see you change, my lady — and she indifferently waves their reasoning away, “he is the only person in this room who has sworn his life to me, wouldn’t it be audacious of me to place my faith on all of you but not him?” as more complaints flows out of the servant’s mouth, his lady raises one hand to silence them and commands another to undo the laces of her dress. that day, knight yuuta learns of the boundaries the lady placed between them — he also learns that the lady has smooth, silky skin, and though his expression is unmoving as he watches her undress to her corset, both hands on his knees forms a fist.

neither knight yuuta nor his lady likes the crown prince very much. he came to learn that the person he is serving is second only to the crown prince, his lady’s inimical fiancé, and that she holds power and influent that most people would not be able to even imagine. knight yuuta knows his lady as one who is loved by all in the duke’s household — and how can one not? his lady, despite her frigid appearance, has the heart of gold that many claims to have, and he is convinced that no one in the kingdom is able to rival neither her elegance nor beauty. and so he wonders, day and night, how is her fate so ill that she is set to marry the wretched prince.

knight yuuta has not ever comment on the countless times his lady hides behind the palace pavilions, shielding herself from leering eyes as she continues to sob and wail quietly into her fragile palms. he has never seen her cry, at all times, he is on the lookout for people that are walking towards them — his gaze is enough to send them away — so that his lady’s dignity would not be tarnished any more than what that bastard prince has commit. he’d kill him, knight yuuta swears, if he isn’t the goddamned crown prince, he’d slit his throat wide open for making his lady cry.

why would anyone choose another woman than his lady? why would anyone openly flaunt their choice in picking arrogant and crude ladies to be their partner? doing so is one thing, but letting his lady catch them in the middle of coition is another. she is trying her best to fit in the mold of the perfect king’s wife, and the crown prince insists lazing around with no inch of grace in his body, even knight yuuta, who comes from a lowly origin, knows better than to exhibit infidelity even in a political driven engagement.

his lady asks him to accompany her to a nighttime tea one evening, and who is knight yuuta to refuse? the underlying sparks in her eyes isn’t present, her voice is low under flickering candlelight as she brings her cup to her lips. “you’re the only one i can trust, sir yuuta,” she says without precipitating movements, “you are my only friend.” that night, yuuta stabs his blade through the chest of a man who tried to bring a knife up to his lady’s face in her own garden. though his lady is unmoving, she lifts her gaze to the sky as the assassin breathes his last breath, “the crown prince has trivialized my knight.” as yuuta peers up at his lady, his eyes widen in overwhelming exalt — she looks magnificent.

trips to town has become a weekly occurrences for yuuta and his lady; her favorite hobby is to dress in regular clothings and prance down the marketplace, making him carry all her luggages. the downtown theater is her best loved place — a new short play every week is to be presented, with new songs and new tricks. his lady loves stories, and yuuta loves watching her eyes light up at every twist the play would offer. though that evening, his lady’s melancholic frown seeps pass her defenses, and he immediately recognizes the presence of the crown prince three rows under where they are sitting — in his arm is another lover yuuta does not recognize.

as his hand creeps to the hilt of his sword, his lady stood up. she is silent, as always, trying her best to not be the center of attention, as she makes her way out the exit. all thoughts of harming the crown prince escapes his mind — his lady is all that matters, after all. he follows her to the empty night streets, hand flying out to catch her wrist; yuuta disobeys his lady for the first time and did not let go even when she tries to pry him off. she refuses to look at him, and he understands, so he tugs her frail body towards his larger one, hand pressing her forehead against his chest.

“i don’t even love him,” as soon as he feels his lady’s sobbings, yuuta pulls them into an alleyway — he will not see her crying face, so no one else can do so. her fingers grip his tunic, tears sopping the material and yuuta can only rock them back and forth as a vain attempt in calming her down. “yuuta, i’m a-always doing my best, i-is that not enough?”

yuuta grits his teeth at the question — he’d kill the crown prince, he swears it. he pulls her from his chest, for the first time, he takes in the sight of her piteous face — her tear-stained cheeks are flushed, eyes swollen, and chest heaving. his heart clenches at the sight, and so, he closes his eyes and brings his large hand to cup her jaws, leaning down to catch her quivering lips with his.

at first, yuuta expects a harsh shove. he expects a slap on his face, or perhaps even a punch. he does not expect for his lady to be melting into the contact; all the tension on his shoulders fades away as he falls in deeper to the kiss, one hand wrapping around her small waist to hold her body closer to his. he can feel her hiccups as she raises her arms to snake around his neck, pulling him down towards her. yuuta knows that he should be careful when it comes to his delicate lady, that he should hold himself back as he is much stronger than she is; and he might have committed a sin when he thrusts her onto the wall.

he silently reprimands his excitement, and while he keeps each hand on her jaw and waist, his dark eyes peered down to his lady, waiting for her to rebuke his actions. but she does not comment on the cold wall or his daring decision — instead, she looks down to her feet, still trying to manage her hiccups, and quietly asks, “are you not going to kiss me again?”

splutters of apologies fly out his lips — he has kissed the crown prince’s fiancé, and while the fear of his own life is not present, yuuta fears for his lady’s. she turns away for a moment, her then erratic breath is now calm and slow, muttering something yuuta does not quite catch. she unhooks her arms from his neck, her soft touch traveling from his neck to the curves of his hard jaws. turning to look at him, shy and timid, his lady grips the base of the hand on her jaw with her smaller ones, tugging it off his face and placing it very carefully on the mound of her breast.

yuuta holds his breath.

the resilient lady keeps her eye contact — he doesn’t know how she does it — and presses her fingers on top of his, making him dig into the fabric and feel his digits drowning in the soft flesh underneath. yuuta does not say a word, he merely does what his lady tells him to do. “you can move,” her pliable voice whispers, and so he does. he takes the initiative to fondle her chest, stepping in closer as he admires how she fits perfectly in his wide palm. the fingers on his hand loosens; his lady takes one thumb to nibble between her teeth as yuuta continues to knead her mound, his breath hot against her face. he was so engrossed in her breast, that when his lady lets out a low sigh, he immediately pulls away.

at an instant, his eyes goes to her face — has he hurt her? he is greeted, however, by his lady’s flushed face (now for an entirely different reason) and her drool pooling on her thumb and on the corner of her pretty lips, threatening to spill out. has her lips always been this plump? yuuta feels his cock hardening against the restraining fabric of his pants as he thinks about how his kiss may be the one making her look so. . . amorous.

“sir yuuta,” his lady whimpers, and he almost flinched at how sultry the complaint sounds. she is so different from the lady he usually serves — so different from the usual bold and prideful woman that she is. yuuta raises his hand back to her chest and she lets out a sigh of relief; his lady looks so small as he towers her, so supple and pliant. is he allowed to do this? is he allowed to see her in such state?

she must have noticed his hesitation. her teeth let go of the thumb in her mouth and she slowly tugs the material of her long skirt to her chest. yuuta let go of her body completely and allows her to exhibit her smooth skin, the fat of her thighs making his head go dizzy even when he’s seen her change so many times. the reveal of her undergarments is slow, but yuuta doesn’t mind, not when his lady is revealing so much of herself to him — her laced underwear cups the shape of her pussy so well, that he almost convinces himself that it’s a sin to be staring for so long.

yuuta swallows the lump in his throat and squats before his lady, the case of his blade clashing against the ground. his face is just inches from her core, breath blowing against her warmth when his lady breaks his trance, “y-you can touch it. if you want.”

he may as well faints. yuuta looks up at his lady who’s intently staring back at him, tense from all that is happening. something tells him that she wants him to touch her, and so he raises one finger — just one, he tries not to be greedy — and presses that finger flat against the length of her slit.

“ngh—“

the responses are all so new for him. he keeps his eyes on his lady as her face rumples into an expression he has never seen her worn — it stirs something inside of him. he wants nothing more but to take his cock out and beat it to the expression she is showing him, but he doesn’t do it. instead, he waits for her cues while occasionally pressing harder on her mound.

“you—“ his lady takes his hand and directs him to a specific spot of her groin; yuuta can feel a bud nestling right there under her underwear, “—you can touch me there.”

yuuta follows her command, and he finds his heart drumming against his chest when his lady’s fingers immediately grips his hair. he places his free hand on her thigh — one he has been longing to hold — and continues pressing her down on the spot she had shown him while occasionally running his finger up and down her slit.

his eyes never leaves his beautiful lady’s face, only glancing to what is in front of him for a moment to see her undergarments getting darker in color when he feels his finger getting wet. yuuta swallows the lump of his throat again — she looks so ravishing, he must say, so inviting. it takes every fiber of his being to not do anything too rash, he wouldn’t want his lady to be uncomfortable around him, but he is only getting more and more close to her pulsating core. her little pants are music to his ears, her little moans of his name — and just his name. they both don’t know what to say in times like this, and yuuta feels content with his lady calling out to him with her velvety voice.

until, of course, something inside of him decides that it’s a good idea to press his lips against the fabric separating his finger and her folds. “yuuta—!” his lady squeals, fingers digging in his scalp as he continues to place flutters of little kisses on her drenched underwear, tasting the sweet slick of his beloved lady. she’s addicting.

yuuta shifts on his feet, angling his face so that he can kiss her better. he uses one finger to pull the fabric aside and let the cool night air breeze against her wet slit. his lady shivers, and he is sure that she is about to say something but his tongue races her, and takes one long lick in between her folds to let her juice run down his tongue. his lips settle on the bud he had felt earlier and slowly sucks on her glistening clit.

noises that his lady makes after he does that is different. though she was panting before, she didn’t do so in a way that is so. . . exhilarating. he is rock hard now, sucking on her throbbing clit, squelching sounds that fill him with delight entering his ears easily. she is so so wet, sopped in her own slick for him.

“y-yuuta—“

he loves her. he really do. yuuta does not lower the intensity of his sucking, and instead, only grips her hips to support her body against the wall once he feels her knees trembling from either side of his body. she’s muttering all sorts of things now, telling him how he feels so good, how his tongue is making her feel so hot.

“yuuta— i’m gonna, i—“

his sweet lady cannot finish her sentence — she is cut off by her own gushing, juice flowing to make a mess on his chin as he continues eating her out, tongue poking at the sensitive button between her folds. she’s trying so hard to keep her voice down, yuuta can tell, biting the back of her hand as she throws her head on the wall. her hips convulses so hard against his face, grinding down on him.

yuuta does not stop. he keeps on lapping up her cum, obsessed with the taste of her honeyed slick as he tugs on her clit softly with his lips, silently begging her to give him more.

“s’enough—“ his lady’s words fall on deaf ears, yuuta keeps slurping up her juice until she finally pushes his head away. “e-enough, sir yuuta!”

yuuta blinks up at her — drowning in the sight of her post orgasm: sweat drenching down her face and neck, chest heaving with massive draws of breath, her hair disheveled and messy (quite unfitting for a lady), and her face somewhat debauched. he made her look like that, a sense of burning pride flares up in his chest, he’s the only one to see his lady like that.

remnants of her juice dribbles down his chin on his throat, and yuuta unconsciously scoops it up with a finger to put in his mouth, indulging himself in another taste of her sweet slick. his lady sees this and looks away, muttering about how indecent he is being. he cannot help the small smirk slipping on his lips as he wipes his face free of her wetness. he stands up, not making a move though his eyes lingers on her chest — he stares longer, more than he usually would and wonders what would his lady’s tits look like under all these article of clothings, and would she ever let him suck on them.

she drops the skirt from her hand, crossing her arms under her chest — perhaps to tease him, or to coax him even further — as her cool expression returns to her face. she still looks embarrassed, face still flushed with her hair sticking firmly on her forehead with sweat, but yuuta does not point it out.

instead, he simply offers her his hand when she says, “take me back to the mansion.” he does not mention too, of course, the way she stumbles in her steps, slightly limping, as they walk back home.

#jjk #one-shot #yuuta #knight yuuta #yuuta smut #yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta smut #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

[asmo-ds]

Hello again! I know that you aren't taking requests at the moment, and might be awhile until then but I want to ask you this. Can you one where MC turns into a child, but can only remember things from that age. For example, turning 5 you only have your 5 year old memories. And the things they remember are bad since they had a abusive past? So they would be scared of the brothers and flinch to small things because if this. Thanks!

w/ scared child!MC

TW: Mentions of Past Abuse

- As if his blood pressure wasn’t high enough already

- He gets a call from MC’s teacher in their Curses 101 class and is informed that MC made a mistake and is with Diavolo in his office

- He storms to Diavolo’s office with the intent to rip MC a new one, but is surprised when he yells their name as he slams the door open and is met with a crying toddler cowering in the corner

- He picks up the child recognizing it as MC and tries to soothe them, and succeeds much to everyone’s surprise

- The paternal instincts he had with Satan come back and he is ready to keep MC safe until the curse has run it’s course

- He brings them back to the House of Lamentation, wrapping them under his coat against his chest to hide them from his brothers who were sure to cause some sort of mischief

- He texts his brothers to inform them that MC has agreed to stay in the castle tonight to hang out with Diavolo to prevent them from looking for them

- He gives MC some blank paper and sets them on the ground away from his desk with some crayons

- He focuses on paper work as MC starts to get more comfortable with him and starts babbling to themselves about random things and coloring 

- When he sees one of his paperwork stacks fall he gets annoyed and stands up to scold MC, but when he sees they’re crying and cowering away from him he leans down and starts picking up the papers quietly

- He reaches a hand out and MC flinches and starts to cry more as they apologize, but are shocked when he just gives them a pat on the head

- Eventually when MC gets sleepy he lets them sit on his lap while he does paperwork

- He goes into his demon form once they are fast asleep and wraps his wings protectively around them as he stares down at their baby cheeks as little snores come from them

- He wonders about their past and why they would act the way they do and he rests his chin on his head with both his wings and his arms around them as he falls asleep as well

- He falls asleep imagining having a kid with MC and how he would protect both of them from everything that comes their way

- He was the reason it happened

- He was bored and trying to get MC’s attention during potions class, and MC got annoyed when he refused to stop poking their cheek, so they swing at his hand that then knocked into the unfinished potion which tipped over, resulting in a tiny MC appearing before him

- All the demons around them looked hungry at the sight of an innocent human child, so Mammon immediately wrapped them up in his jacket (since they didn’t exactly fit in their own clothes anymore..) and sprints back home

- The second he steps in the door, MC swings their foot at his no no square and sprints away screaming and crying

- He sprints after them, capturing the squirming toddler with ease as he brings them to the kitchen and sets them on the counter

- He starts to dig through the fridge- usually if human children are fussy they want food right ?!

- He tries to feed MC, who sits there petrified by the food they present

- So he goes to Leviathan, the only person who would have human world food

- Levi yells at Mammon the second he comes into his room holding MC’s tiny hand

- When Leviathan stands up looking ready to fight, Mammon feels tiny hands clinging to his jeans, trembling with fear

- He remembers MC once mentioned their childhood not being too great as they had showed him a small scar from their past

- He goes into protection mode and transforms, wrapping MC up with his wings to shelter them from the raging snake boy

- “Don’t ya worry, kiddo! You’ve got the GREAT Mammon here, and my wings will shield us from the raging nerd!” he entertains them

- After getting some candy from Levi, he brings MC, who seems to be warming up to him, to his room, where they find fascination in his prized possessions

- He panics when he sees them run to his car and climb in the driver’s seat

- He follows them and sits in the passenger’s seat, buckling up as they pretend to drive super fast and furious

- He plays along with them and for the rest of the night he does stuff like making them “fly” and playing pretend

- At one point he takes them for a real fly, which ends with Lucifer hanging him from the ceiling for endangering the exchange student and not informing him of the mishap

- He had been doing online classes when he heard noises from the kitchen

- He left class early, opting to investigate to see if some normie had broken into the dorms

- When he arrived and saw a small child in the kitchen rummaging through drawers and making a mess, he screeches

- MC falls over, crying and wailing begging him not to hurt them

- He was still unaware that it was MC- so he ran to MC’s room, knowing they had stayed home sick that day and dedicated their sick day to practicing curses

- No MC is found and he panics even more

- That’s when he realizes why the fear in the kid’s eyes looked so familiar, he had recognized those fearful eyes from the TSL quiz when he lost his temper

- He sprints back and sees MC had fled the kitchen, lucky for him they left a trail of the food they’d spilled on themselves

- He finds MC hiding under the sofa in the common room, covering their eyes and shaking

- He gently reaches out and flinches back as they scream at the feeling of his touch

- He gently lays next to the couch and looks at them, leaving them alone until hey calm down, not wanting to scare them more

- When they do calm down he asks if they know him, to which they respond no and that they had honestly thought he was their dad

- His heart breaks as he realizes what MC must’ve been through if they heard yelling and could barely look long enough to realize he wasn’t their dad before they felt they had to run and hide

- He makes a mental note to cast a curse on MC’s dad later

- Does NOT want them in his room because of his precious Ruri-chan figurines

- So he tells them to stay put and runs to grab some of his older action figures he didn’t really care for anymore

- Will also dress up with them using older cosplays that he also does not care much for

- Humiliated when his brothers see him and the child dressed up as anime girls, so he picks them up and runs 

- When he is tutoring MC he hears them misspeak and before he knows it a small child stands before him, blinking up at him before screaming “stranger danger!” and sprinting away

- He chases them around his room, doing his best to guide them to avoid his cursed books, and eventually corners them

- When he catches them by the wrist they scream and look at him with terror in their eyes

- This is where he remembers a late night talk MC had with him about their childhood and he suddenly feels very guilty

- He sits on the ground and picks up the most child friendly book he can find and starts reading out loud

- MC slowly inches towards him until he extends out his arm, beckoning them to come sit with him

- MC runs to his lap and sits, hiding their face in his chest and clutching his shirt as if they’re afraid he’ll get mad

- He gently plays with their hair and reads to them for an hour or so until he hears soft snoring

- He tucks MC into his bed before getting up and trying to find a way to lift the curse

- While reading through a curse removal book he hears screaming from the other side of the room, so he runs out from behind his multiple book cases and sees Lucifer holding a screaming and crying MC with a look of anger and confusion

- Lucifer turns to question Satan but before words can leave his mouth Satan has flung him against the book case while removing MC from his hold and sheltering them from Lucifer

- He tells Lucifer to get out as he cradles the crying child holding onto him for dear life and is a little shocked- but very relieved -when Lucifer leaves and only says “fix this and then find me so we can talk.”

- Satan is very very protective over MC and is constantly holding their hand and stuff

- When he finds out the curse will lift itself after about 24 hours of it having been cast he is relieved

- He will play with MC and teach them stuff all night and locks his bedroom door so they won’t see anyone else and get scared again because he just wants them to feel safe

- After MC falls asleep and he tucks them in he watches their sleeping face with a soft smile and can’t help but wonder if he and MC would have kids as cute as MC in the future

- Asmodeus is NOT a fan of kids don’t @ me

- The avatar of lust was shocked when he walked into MC’s room and found a toddler on the floor that looked eerily similar

- At first he would think of MC as snotty and messy and gross kid that he didn’t want anywhere near him so he’d be scolding them and telling them to go away

- When he looks down at the tiny human after telling them to just leave him alone very harshly he is shocked to see the terror on their face as they step back slowly as if bracing for impact

- Confused he goes to pick them up so that he can talk to them easier

- They kick and scream at him looking horrified of whatever he was about to do next

- He panics and tries to soothe them by holding them close and petting their head slowly and gently

- Once they calm down he is able to think clearly and realizes it must’ve had something to do with their childhood as he knew they had once said it wasn’t a good one

- He decides to put his own joy aside for the day by allowing them to hangout with him no matter how snotty and gross children may be

- He plays dress up with them and will do karaoke with them

- Whenever one of his brothers does anything that frightens MC he will be picking MC up to bring them back to his room before he goes back out there to have a bit of a “talk” with his rowdy brothers.

- He eventually falls asleep with them on his chest sighing happily and overwhelmed by the happiness he felt at getting to see MC as a child

- The experience made him start to want kids, which he had never wanted before

- When MC turns into a small human child he has to leave the room for a minute so he won’t eat them since they’re so small and vulnerable

- When he comes back and finds the contents of the fridge have been thrown about the room by the child he is like WTFFFF

- He goes Demon form seeing all the food ruined and MC screams and cries running away toward the door

- When the door opens to reveal Levi (who screams at the sight of a tiny MC) MC gets even more scared at the fact they’re surrounded by strangers

- MC hides in a cabinet covering their ears and squeezing their eyes shut waiting for someone to come pull them out 

- When Beel reaches in to pull them out gently MC flinches and lets out a loud sob

- “I’m sorry for making a mess I promise I’ll be good please don’t hurt me!” MC cries scooting further against the back wall of the cabinet

- He tries to coax MC out of the cabinet

- When he does he picks them up and hugs them softly 

- Beel decides to play with MC and wear them out so they will eventually fall asleep

- He takes them outside and they play in the back yard for hours 

- Eventually chasing after the toddler wears out Beel and he falls asleep on the couch in the living room

- MC sits on top of him and watches TV before screaming because Devildom TV is very scary to a human child

- He is very good at comforting them 

- He was asleep when it happened

- He woke up to tiny hands pulling at his hair as he yelped out in pain

- He pushed whatever had attacked him off the bed and shoots up - making eye contact with the small human

- He had to be dreaming, theres no way the human actually managed to mess up a spell this badly

- Is reminded that he is in fact NOT dreaming when MC moves to pull at his hair again

- He curses and pushes them off again which makes them cry

- Annoyed with MC, he picks them up and puts them next to him in the bed, urging MC not to pull his hair again

- They do though because they are a child and don’t really understand the situation they’re in

- When he yells MC flinches and runs away crying for their mom to help them

- He suddenly remembers everything MC had told him about their childhood and he feels very very guilty

- feels even worse when they return being carried by a very pissed off Lucifer who is humiliated to have the child referring to him as “mommy”

- Belphie can’t help but laugh as Lucifer looks ready to strangle the child, so he takes MC and uses his powers to make them fall asleep quickly- hoping that they’ll sleep over whatever they had cursed themselves with

#obey me headcanons #obey me headcannon #om! headcanons #obey me headcannons #om! headcannon #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me luficer #obey me asmodeus #obey me fluff #obey me hc #obey me hcs #obey me fluff hc #obey me angst hc

[yinses]

nanami kento ft. f! reader + lots of praise + soft dom nana + fingering + semi clothed sex + domestic au

rating: 18+ wc: 2.2k a/n: inspired by this fanart that sister yulia blessed me with. nanami supremacy for all. 

you take notice in the shift the moment he crosses the threshold. hair tousled and tie askew is nothing new to expect from your husband after a long day at work. he takes his job seriously and his goal to provide even more so, often sacrificing extra hours just to provide for more than what you ask.

he strived for a life of comfort, he’d told you before marriage. it was something he worked hard for prior to you and only doubled his efforts to ensure that future after putting a ring on your finger.

it wore down on him, adding maturity lines earlier than they should present themselves and taking away years he needed to give back to himself. but nanami kento was a man of consistency, even when those boundaries started to fracture.

you could feel the splinters echoing beyond the slam of the door closing shut from the kick of his heel. it rattles straight to your core as you stand there, held hostage by the stormy pools of blue staring down at you. his day had likely been another one of agitation piled on top of another. surely a cup of tea before dinner would help soothe the cracks of frustration.

though neither your lips could form the words nor could your feet cross the distance it took to move in any direction.

this plight was not a fault of your husband who stepped confidently in your direction, a single finger coming up to remove his tie all together.

“is dinner on the stove?”

your mind blanked at the question, frazzled at the sight of him handling his cuffs with practiced care as he set one gifted metal piece aside one after the other. you had a plan set in motion from the moment he kissed your forehead in departure that morning, but everything beyond that suddenly felt trapped.

lips stumbled over answers and your cheeks warmed at the foolish display. what had swept into your household to shift the mood so?

nanami appeared otherwise unaffected as he finished rolling up the last sleeve. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, capturing your fraying attention as he looks around you towards the kitchen. you think you see his nose twitch once before his gaze falls back down.

“i don’t smell anything burning.” his intentions are becoming increasingly clear as his hand comes up to cup your cheek, a single thumb swiping at the fullness of your lips before pressing against the corner. without a second thought, you part them.

it provides a catalyst that gets you pressed against the nearest wall with one wrist pinned near the frame displaying your wedding day.

when his lips lower, you crane your neck in response only to have them stop just short of a whisper. his breath ghosts a trail down the exposed column of your throat, nose edge the line of your jaw. you swear you feel him smile against the shiver of anticipation rattling your form.

“i would like to fuck you in this hallway, if that’s alright, darling?” the thumb still trapped between your teeth, presses down against your tongue as if to prompt an answer yet he doesn’t pause for one.

“i’ve already put in a request for the cleaners to come and groom the rug tomorrow so you’ll need not to worry about that.”

your toes curl against the fine woven carpet at your feet, nerves tingling at the premeditated situation that you’ve found yourself in. your husband, who was now suckling soft blooms under your chin, had taken time out of his day to schedule a clean up for the mess he planned to make out of you. the idea made your knees go weak.

nanami chuckled knowingly as he caught your descent with the sharp line of his hips. “i imagine that’s agreeable with you, wife?”

the hasty nod of your head dislodges his finger, but he’s quick to replace it with his lips. the kiss is all consuming as his tongue slips between the seam, allowing you to taste the moan from his lips.

you may as well have had the script, dressed perfectly for the role as his knee nudges between your thigh and ride up the edge of your summer dress. he tells you all the time that you don’t need to try, that you look pretty in anything. but you like to go the extra mile. painting your lips a nice shade at home just to smear it in the passion of his kisses.

you know he appreciates it too. an inviting contrast to the mundane office view at work.

the same hand falls from the cut of your jaw to drag the hem of your dress up the ascent of your thigh. you’re more proud than embarrassed when his fingers tap against the tacky wet spot at the front of your panties.

his tongue clicks against the top of his mouth, “played with yourself while i was away again?” a firm swipe up followed by a press inward has you keening. “or did you just miss me this much?”

“yes.”

it’s both an answer and a cry for attention. a meaningless wail that meets no need of a man who would fracture the world to build you one better.

“my pretty little angel, it must be so hard when i’m away.”

he follows the panty line, teasing the sensitive skin there. the rumbling laugh you receive when your hips jerk in response makes your heart flutter. you’re still riding the tremors of your excitement when he nudges aside the lace of your panties to push a finger inside.

the intrusion meets minimal resistance as he slides from the first knuckle to the next. he still takes it as slow as your initial night, pumping in and out with care before adding a second. all the while, he peppers your face with kisses and words of adoration. nanami moves his thumb to flick over your nub before pressing down hard until you cry out.

pretty, beautiful, gorgeous, mine, are all formations of adoration that he mutters against your skin while he unravels you thread by thread.

“take it, darling, i’ll give you another.”

he utters a low curse at the sharp keening sound, enthralled by how your body trembled as he worked his fingers deeper. nanami lowered his head back to the junction of your shoulder, where he flicked his tongue against the feverish skin. your high whines and small gasps encouraged him to pick up the pace, hips rocking against yours with the precipice of something more, yet he ignored the growing discomfort in his pants to focus all the different ways your mouth formed his name.

his teeth mark your skin, where they tenderly nipped and sucked, leaving fresh marks while you twisted in his hold. you emit a shuddering cry, nails raking over his skin as your body pulls tight as a bow string. the shaky breath lining your lips forms a mantra of his name, over and over until the tremors ebb away. what remains are shaky legs that nearly slump over, caught by your husband as he follows you to the ground.

still floating down from your high, you could vaguely make out the sounds of nanami sucking off his fingers, removing them with lasciviously loud pops. when your gaze eventually focuses, you find him waiting with an eager, seductive smirk.

“ready for me then?”

swallowing a sharp inhale, you nod.

hands heading down to the zipper of his pants, nanami pulled it down and shrugged the material away to free his cock. one hand grabbing himself and the other reached for your left leg which he threw over his shoulder. you immediately try to grind down, slippery lips colliding with warm flesh.

“thought about you all day while i was at work.” nanami purrs breathily with half-lidded eyes, taking in the sight before he would take you to heaven. “thinking about how you would feel around me and mad with pleasure.”

his hand reaches for yours, capturing the digits and bringing them to his lips. he takes his time, allowing his tongue to glide up and down your fingers before kissing your palm, murmuring heated words against them; “thought about our wedding night… those twisted sheets wrung dry”

you feel his hips roll once, probing slightly, before he jerks forward and grunts at the overflowing heat engulfing him. still reeling from your first, your body was pliant and gracious while he chased his. your chest heaved up and down as you tried to calm your breathing while lips continued to release indecent moans.

his grip slides down to your wrists, pressing them above your head into the rug as he adjusted over you. there was an unmistakable provocative outline in his lust-darkened blue eyes. the blonde’s lips meshed intricate patterns against your cheeks, moving downward to capture your lips in a tight needy kiss that made nanami twitch even further.

it made his last strand of self-restraint snap before he met you stroke for stroke, grounding down on you deeply. your lips broke apart with a loud cry that milked with a following angled push as he snatched at your other leg to wrap around his waist. his movements were perfectly concise, designed to make you lose control with the potent effect of his affections.

picking up the pace when your high whines turned into full-blown moans, he inhaled sharply and choked out as coherently as he could,”together, darling, meet me there. i know you can.”

then he shifted on his knees slightly, that brought on a new change in the angle as he continued thrusting deeper, watching how your head thrashed from side to side and you repeatedly arched against him, trying to meet his every move. the delectable bead of sweat that ran down your throat was promptly licked up by the blonde as he sucked on your pulse.

his hands were ever so helpful in guiding your hips as he slowed down his speed to a torturous beat, rolling his hips in deeply to tease the edge. he knew where the peak was, hovering just at the horizon as he marched gradually up the hill. nanami was practiced in the art of getting you there, watching as your spine arched to accommodate is languid yet deep drives.

“ ‘m there, kenny-please”

it was silenced with on of his brain-numbing kisses again as he captured your lips. you could feel the slight curve of his mouth as he pulled out almost fully, making you slutter in the middle of your kiss.

“that’s it, “ he hissed, loving how you pant his name with each of his thrust, trying to manage coherency past how tightly you clenched around him. “we’re there baby. take me with you.”

nanami could feel himself losing control with your begging, fitfully aware you were going to tumble over the edge with him right behind. he abruptly accelerated his thrusts once more, bringing you to meet him sharply. each time he struck, he made sure that he prodded that spot that would drive you frenzied and wild, gazing in satisfaction as you squirmed harder under his skilled touches.

“c-come now, love.” he grunted, phishing past all bounds as he rammed into you repeatedly, losing himself to the sensation crawling up his skin. “do it. be good for me, princess.”

your head twisted and turned as your mouth hung open. vision getting lost in the blinding white. body growing weaker. as if determined to break you entirely, his hand traveled down your navel to come between your joined bodies. expert fingers quickly found you clit as he rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, coaxing you to let go of everything as he whispered lewd thoughts into your ear.

“k-kenny!”

that was all the warning he had when your toes curled and he could feel your walls spasm around him. the flow of sensations ignited his nerves, left to surrender as you became impossible tighter around him, jerking him into his own release as well. a hiss was all he could manage as he slammed into you, shuddering through his climax.

the world exploded into a disarray of hues as he slumped forward, bracing a single arm above your figure while he panted heavily through euphoria.

“bad day at work?” you manage to get out.

he grunts at first, a small sound of misunderstanding before the mutual foggy haze lifts to prompt clarity. a breathy chuckle leaves him.

“never a bad day with you in my life. just missed you is all.” his words are slightly slurred, much unlike your husband but very a keen to a man on the verge of undeniable sleep.

dinner could wait.

“why don’t we take an early evening nap and have dinner in bed later?”

who could deny that?

you get a slow kiss of affirmation in return.

#nanami kento x reader #Nanami x Reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #nanami sins

[blzzrdstryr]

Misery

Sadistic!Yandere!Diluc x Fatui Harbinger!GN!reader

Wordcount: 6748

CW: torture, sex, foul language, isolation, sensory deprivation, extremely unhealthy relationships, dubcon, mindbreak, violence

Diluc isn’t a cruel person. Not necessarily. He punishes you only when you are difficult and for the last few weeks you tried to stay on your best behavior. Ragnvindr is nice to you, benevolent even, willing to look past your former affiliations and shower you with love. At times his affections seem suffocating and irking, blood red eyes following your every movement and him absorbing your every word as if it is a holy scripture, but you remind yourself that his love is the best thing that happened to you in your whole life.

Truly, Diluc is so kind to take you in and help you fix the errors of your old ways, even when you were snarling and spitting insults in his face, too stubborn to see how wrong your old life was. You were ignorant and ungrateful back then, seeing nothing but a Harbinger title and service to Tsaritsa. You forced Diluc to lock you up to make you realize that you didn't need your title or your vision or your archon. He is there for you and it's all that matters, you can rely on him for everything and he is happy to provide, persistent in his care for you and even now he is patient with your… deficiencies, waiting when you stop staring into the distance with vacant eyes.

You stand in front of an open but barred window, a typically Mondstadtian landscape revealed to you - bright green grass and patches of dandelions and windwheel asters growing in small groups with tall trees of the same shade finishing the picture. A gentle breeze flows through the opening, playing with your hair and caressing your skin, yet you imagine another type of wind - stronger and colder, relentless and carrying small snowflakes on the way. You close the eyes and see another image - tall, leafless trees covered by multiple layers of snow and the white ground between them. Snow shines and glitters under the pale winter sun, and you feel alive and bitter at the same time.

You know the place, having been there once, but your memory now is too blurry and fuzzy. All of the events prior to Diluc fixing you up are too foggy to make out the finer details and it somehow makes you feel sad, when you should be grateful instead. Tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t make them stop, rapidly going from silent crying to full on hysterics.

You hear Diluc asking what’s wrong with a concern in his voice, his hands slightly shaking your crying form. You can’t answer him, wailing even louder and stronger, hiding your face in both hands, ashamed from the sudden outburst and overwhelmed from unreasoned sorrow and heartache. Only when Ragnvindr painfully squeezes both of your shoulders and demands to know what is wrong with you in that tone that makes you shiver and gasp, do you stop, looking at him with wide scared eyes, hands that were used to cover your face, are now up in the air in a semi defensive stance.

He seems uncomfortable by your reaction, a slight frown appearing on his face, scarlet brows knit together and corners of mouth turned downward. “I am sorry”, you say, voice small and pleading, eyes casted aside not meeting his out of embarrassment. Why did you start to act so childish out of the blue?

“There’s nothing to apologize”, Diluc takes off the glove, using an uncovered hand to wipe away the tear tracks from your cheeks. There’s no irritation in his voice, just concern, so you risk a glance at him, as he continues: “You are just making me worry”

“I am sorry” you repeat, feeling a prick to your heart, as you process his words - Ragnvindr is so good to you, providing with everything you could ever ask of, and here you are, making him concerned and anxious over some silly daydreams. “It’s really nothing, I just need to be more attentive, that’s it”

You noticed that it’s harder for you to stay in the moment as you start to frequently space out, mind too occupied by the memories of days long past - playing with peers, entering Fatui, receiving a delusion. It’s a futile thing, but images still consume all of your attention and focus, keeping you from sleeping and eating.

“[First], I...” he starts, but then trails off, huffing to mask his hesitancy. Instead of talking he takes your face in one hand and leans in, his lips meeting yours. It's a slow and gentle kiss at first, but just like all other things with Diluc it quickly escalates into something more: his hands now take you by your waist and tug you closer to him, making you press with your entire chest against him, and he deepens the kiss, his tongue freely exploring the confines of your mouth as you moan into his from pleasure and such close proximity.

When you two part, Diluc leaves you flushed and dizzy, with heart quickly pounding against the ribcage. You feel a fire of arousal igniting inside of you, it travels from your chest to belly and soon spreads to the rest of the body. Your cheeks heat up as you stand up on tiptoes to whisper “Can we do it right now?” in Diluc’s ear, voice full of both shame and anticipation.

“Of course, my dear”, there are hints of a smile in his tone and he effortlessly lifts you up and heads for the bedroom and as he carries you you can’t help but zone out again, the memories of past days flashing in your mind.

***

Your first meeting happens during one winter night, as you receive the order to deal with him day prior, at a Harbinger meeting in the Zapolyarny palace. Eleven of you stay kneeling in the main hall, awaiting for Her Majesty to come in as Scaramouche and Tartaglia start to bicker as usual.

“I bet it’s about that mysterious person who’s destroying one stronghold after the other” Childe starts, voice full of bravado and smugness, fake smile blooming on his face: “Fortunately, Tsaritsa has me to take on whatever this stranger is”.

“I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you, Tartaglia”, Scaramouche remarks, almost spitting out the last word.

“Why shouldn’t I? I am the youngest here, yet I am also the strongest. Why are you so upset? Feeling envious of my power?” Childe retorts, voice still sounding too cheery to be natural.

“If there was anything to envy. You may be the best at fighting among us, but it’s the only thing you are good at”.

“Huh, it seems I was wrong. Maybe little Scaramouche wants to be as tall as me and that’s why he spits out his funny silly slander”.

It must have struck the nerve, as Scaramouche snaps back with an angry tirade, from which their exchange escalates into a heated battle of barely hidden insults. You, just as the rest of other Harbingers listen to their conversation, half amused and half irritated, lifting the brows at the creative mockings.

“Silence”, domineering and overpowering voice says and you still yourself, eyes casted downwards, as Childe and Scaramouche stop their exchange at the same moment. Footsteps echo throughout the hall, as a feminine figure takes its place on a high throne in the middle of the hall. Tsaritsa has arrived.

“As I can see my children already know about the perpetrator attacking my servants” archon starts, divine power and absolute authority evident in each syllable. You feel how the deity’s eyes look at all of you, despite still keeping head bowed and stance obedient.

“Innamorati”, you hear your title and lift up your gaze, ready to take whatever order the Goddess has for you.

“I entrust you with this task, don’t disappoint me”.

***

Diluc is not a coward and he never was one, but now he can’t help but feel a pang of fear, looking at your approaching form.

“Let’s test our delusions, shall we?”, you almost purr, voice soft, silken smooth and full of unspoken threat. It sends shivers down his spine, yet he still equips this cursed thing and braces himself for the upcoming battle.

There’s a stillness in your moves, a confidence that whatever Diluc has in his arsenal, you can endure and answer with something deadly in return. This dangerous calm both disturbs and excites young Ragnvindr.

He lashes out on you with a stream of accursed chains, filling the air with the sickly sweet scent of mist grass. You easily side step his attack, letting out a cheerless laugh and then come back with a cold gust, frost air currents easily cutting through his skin.

He barely dodges the attack, slowly registering the pain from injury. It’s a shallow cut and a testament to your strength, Diluc thinks, as he touches the scrape, marvelling at your speed. In the end, Diluc can’t stand against you - you’re stronger, have more experience and infinitely faster than him, bringing down one overwhelming attack after the other, a catalyst shining and glowing as you do so.

He jumps and ducks and runs, avoiding one hit after the other, yet there's only so much his body can do. Soon his limbs grow heavier and his breathing labored, Diluc slows down and that's when your attack finally strikes him. It pierces his body, pools of blood quickly forming under him.

Diluc falls down, his battered body no longer able to stand. Memories and regrets alike flood his mind, reminding him of deeds he wishes he did and deeds he wishes he didn’t. He remembers his childhood - all daydreams and high hopes, the world around him bright and friendly. He remembers his father's dying face and Kaeya’s guilt-ridden expression. He remembers overwhelming helplessness and grief transforming into righteous anger and hate.

It all seems so pointless now - leaving the Mondstadt, breaking all bonds with Kaeya or spending years in a mindless massacre, satiating his thirst for revenge by destroying one Fatui stronghold after the other, with no regard for his body or spirit. What was the point of it all, if he's still there, lying and bleeding to death, as you look down on him?

He throws, what he thinks, the last glance at the world, a strange thought appearing in his mind as he looks at you: I want them. As Diluc's consciousness fades he misses a sound of an observer's footsteps.

Later, as he gets saved by the said third party’s observer, who commented and praised Diluc’s methods, he replays the encounter in his mind, getting confused at this particular thought. Why would he want you? Maybe he wants you to die or maybe he wants to see you defeated, but in no way he sees you as desirable. In the end he blames everything on his oxygen deprived brain at the time, explaining the strange attraction he felt for you at that moment.

Having a near death experience and a taste of his own dying regrets, he decides to return to Mondstadt and as he does, thoughts about you continue to pester him. They fly around and buzz, reminding Diluc of your face, eyes and voice, of your body and skills and that terrifying speed you attacked him at. He swats them away like a noisy, annoying flies, suppressing and burying feelings deep, deep down, and naming his interest in you “a desire for revenge and retribution”.

***

Your second meeting happens once the news of a sudden Stormterror attack reaches Tsaritsa’s ears - a perfect opportunity for acquiring anemo archon’s gnosis and a new step in her rebellion against Celestia. She thinks about sending La Signora at first, as your fellow Harbinger is fast and ruthless, able to complete a job no matter the cost, but soon archon changes her mind and picks you instead. For secrecy and subterfuge, she adds, don’t disappoint me.

I won't, you promise more to yourself than her, as Tsaritsa never asks but orders. With your head bowed in deep respect and the heavy gaze of the goddess on your form, you decide that you will do your best to bring cryo archon's vision into reality. You are dispatched to Mondstadt the same week, first by ship, then by carriage. Pristine white landscapes of Snezhnaya quickly morph into bright Mondstadtian green, and you finally arrive.

Despite or maybe because of Mondstadt having almost nothing similar with Snezhnaya, it steals a breath from you for a moment - city stands on a lone isle in the middle of deep blue lake, tall windmills and bright red roofs seen from a distance, along with a giant statue of Barbatos blessing the city.

Acting Grandmaster Jean greets you, her stern blue eyes intently observing you, as she says standard Favonius salute and you return your own cliche lines - about Tsaritsa’s concern and a peacekeeping mission, empty phrases that don’t elaborate on what actually Fatui will do. She fails to suppress a frown upon hearing it, sensing your real intentions, but you pay it no mind - Jean has no way or reason strong enough to ban you from Mondstadt without causing a diplomatic conflict.

You turn on the heels after brief negotiations, heading for the Goth Grand Hotel, mind already full of plans and schemes of obtaining the Gnosis. Before you departed, Tsaritsa shared a very interesting fact to you - throughout the centuries Barbatos used only one mortal form, disguising himself as a young cheerful bard named Venti. You dispatch a couple of agents and cicin mage to look for a person fitting the description, and then turn your attention to the rest of the fatuis.

You scold Anastasia for unprofessional rudeness towards Jean. “We need to maintain a benevolent image”, you say to her, right before demoting her and temporarily sending her off to Dragonspine as a punishment. Under your rule fatuis cease sneering and belittling Mondstadt in public, lessening no doubt growing ire of locals.

All goes well, until several events happen. Stormterror attacks the city and some blonde foreigner fights off the dragon, wielding mind blowingly strong anemo powers and riding the wind, like a flying bird. Then your agents finally find a bard, reporting that “Venti" prefers to spend a considerable amount of both time and mora in two local taverns - Angel’s Share and Cat’s tail.

You don civilian clothing, heading for the former tavern and send off a couple of other disguised agents to the latter one. Now, stripped of your mask and harbinger attire, citizens stop gawking and staring at you, their eyes passing your form, as you make your way as an ordinary passerby.

No one pays you attention, as you enter the tavern, save for the strange six fingered bard at the entrance. He tries to sell you his performance, but you wave him off, heading for the bar. And here you see him again - you recognize the unknown attacker, his bright red hair and eyes betraying him the same second. Your faces mirror in recognition as a tense silence settles between you.

“So what is Fatui doing in this tavern?”he asks loudly and half of the customers stop drinking and stare at you. You sigh “enjoying” the atmosphere he created, and utter a premade excuse: “Mondstadt is known for its wine industry and the best wines are sold by Dawn Winery. It would be a shame if I left the city without tasting its finest drinks first”.

You glance at the red gem on his collar, an obvious heirloom of a famous clan: “Didn’t know that Ragnvindr heir would spend his days working as a bartender. You must be Diluc, then. Am I right?". He doesn't dignify you with an answer, preferring to wipe the glasses and serve other customers, his eyes still observing you from time to time.

You quit the tavern early, as “Venti”, as it turns out, leaves the same second he hears about your presence. You order agents to spy on him, waiting for the right opportunity to strike, that you don't get a chance to act on.

You get attacked by Diluc on your way to the Windrise tree, where according to your intel, Barbatos decided to go. He slowly pulls out his claymore and you notice a difference between old and current him.

He is calm this time, his movements lacking fervent hatred and anger that was present during your first battle. He must have gotten stronger then, if he feels so confident, entering a battle with you. Or grown foolish, your mind supplies.

You start to fight, exchanging one blow for another, as he surprises you - there's no barbed chains rushing into your direction, only an orange light fire surrounding the claymore. A pyro vision dangles on his waist, glowing and shining as he activates it's powers. You masterfully dodge his hits, shooting combined anemo and cryo attacks from the catalyst.

Suddenly you step on a burning grass, and hiss and close your eyes from the sudden pain. Diluc uses this time to disarm you, his heavy claymore crushing a delicate catalyst into small pieces. It happens so fast, that you are left speechless at the sudden turn of the battle tides.

With no weapon left, all you can do is dodge and run - you almost reach the city again. it’s walls become visible as you do your best to push your body beyond limits, fatigue weighing down on every muscle. Diluc sends a phoenix - a damn phoenix! - on your way. Fire licks your skin and scorches ends of your hair, but you manage to dodge it too - if only by a small chance - and fall to the ground, mind drifting off to the unconscious world.

***

You come up to your senses slowly and gradually; first there are sensations - a rough rope around your wrists, wet, yet rugged stone walls, then the smells, tastes and sounds - stale, musty air, a coppery blood on your tongue and a shift of a fabric, and then the images at last - dark basement and a bright red blotch, that after a time becomes a head.

There’s a man sitting beside you, Diluc Ragnvindr, your memory supplies. You feel calm and confused for a moment until you remember the fight you both had. Seems, he finally overpowered you.

“You are awake” he says, voice grim and quiet.

“It seems I am. Let me guess, you dragged me here because you want to know what this big bad harbinger plans to do?”. Control your breathing, don’t let him hear the tremble of your voice, don’t let him see the fear in your eyes.

He looks at you with an unreadable gaze and you hold his stare, looking absolutely untroubled in return, a knowing and somewhat self-confident smirk playing in your lips. No matter his status in Mondstadt, Diluc kidnapped you, one of the fatui Harbingers and a close associate of Tsaritsa. His action, no doubt, will force Fatui to severe action, an action that neither his nation nor his people will be able to withstand.

“Think bigger”, he finally says: “I don’t care what you planned to do. I already have you here, weak and helpless. No, what I want is intel on what your goddess and organization are after”.

“Oh, mister Diluc, you want to play a big game? It’s dangerous in case you didn’t know. Maybe after I tell you all of our wicked plans, you will wish you had never asked” you purr, sensing how it grates his nerves, despite him keeping his face and stance impassive.

“How so?”

“Tsaritsa is the greatest of all seven, her vision is absolute. Even if you learn of her plans I doubt you will be able to stop any of them”.

“I asked what the plans were, not what you think of cryo archon”. Diluc’s voice becomes a tone louder, the already present frown on his face subtly deepening.

“Then I am afraid you won’t get any from me”.

He suddenly gets closer to you, his hand yanking you by your head. You hiss, trying to free the bound hands, as he drags you to a nearby barrel with water by hair and then he dips you in it. You instinctively jerk in his hold, a cold water seeping in your nose and mouth as he holds you underwater. Ten second passes, twenty, thirty, you jerk again, your head throbbing and aching from the lack of air, he pulls you upwards.

You nearly black out from the abrupt change, gulping down in the air and coughing out water. He repeats his question and you deny him again. He dips you more, each time becoming a bit longer than the last, only to repeat his query. You lose how many times he lowered you into liquid, absolutely wet and shivering now, when he finally stops and ties you up to the same place you woke up to.

“We will continue tomorrow, I have business to attend to. I suggest you use this time to rethink whether you want to tell me Tsaritsa’s plans or not, as I can get much worse” He heads for the exit from the basement, as you greedily inhale the air.

“Wait”, you say, still breathing heavily: “Aren’t you afraid of the punishment? You kidnapped me, a harbinger, and then proceeded to torture me. Tsaritsa will have your head for this slight against her.”

“Tsaritsa won’t find out. Your Harbingers won’t find out. No one will find out if there’s no evidence”. He steps closer to you, his voice becoming firmer with each word.

“And how do you think you will manage to hide the evidence? You left the knights years ago, you are nothing but a businessman at this point. I doubt they will cover up for you”.

“How did..”

“Oh, Diluc, people talk and I am very, very nosy. That girl, Donna, she told so much to my subordinates about you ”, you mock her, imitating her high breathy manner: “Oh Diluc, he was the youngest captain, but then he left. I wonder why he left? Maybe the knights wronged him!”

“Honestly, with the amount of ire you subject poor knights to, only a deaf and a blind won’t know about how much you despise Favonius Order'', you continue, anger and hatred seeping into your voice.

“I still have connections”, he says absolutely nonchalantly.

“Oh, do you bribe them, then? You criticize the knights for being corrupt, yet you are willing to ask them to hide my abduction? It’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it?”

Diluc doesn’t answer this time, finally stepping out of the room and locking the door. You sit alone in a dimly lit room, water still all over you and heart quickly beating in your chest, trying to calm down. Later, when your heartbeat stops booming in your own ears, you pray to Tsaritsa, asking Goddess to grant you strength and endurance.

***

You manage to doze off once your clothes are almost dry. The dreams you see are vague and murky, dripping with a sense of unease and anxiety, you see dark silhouettes that morph into looming shadows that later transform into phantasmagorical monsters. It must be why you wake up the same second door opens with Diluc entering the room.

He looks grimmer now, more determined. You brace yourself for his hands tugging at your hair again and lungs burning from lack of oxygen, but none of it comes. He uses a dagger to slice your clothes off, careful not to damage skin underneath. Out of pure nerves you quip some stupid joke about dining first, but he pays you no mind, his hands soon touching your bare legs and looks at them with a filthy stare, his red eyes consuming revealed flesh.

You still under his stare, heart pounding as you try to distract yourself from the thoughts of what he might do to you right now. Almost a minute passes, when he finally stops staring at your legs and begins to move his arms, caressing your inner side of the thigh instead.

You shift from the discomfort, alarmed when his palms start to heat up. He wants to burn me, you think and barely stop yourself from screaming by biting your lip. A disgusting smell of burnt flesh fills up your nose as tears start to travel down your face. He removes the hand, revealing two angry red imprints with a collection of small blisters already forming. Diluc, again, asks the same question, and just like the last time you refuse to answer.

He does upkeep his threat of becoming much worse, with his hands burning your naked body - he targets sensitive spots or joints,so everytime you shift or move they throb and burn, disturbed at the smallest of motions.

“You're not the one to think about the consequences, are you?”, you ask when he finishes, voice quiet and raspy from screaming.

"No one will find you".

"I am one of the Tsaritsa's most trusted servants, of course they will find me", you pretend you don't hear desperation in your own voice.

"Time will show", Diluc says philosophically, looking as gentlemanly as possible despite him torturing you seconds ago.

"Yes, it will", you agree with him, picturing the bastard's face once he gets thrown in prison.

He leaves the room and you allow yourself to slump, careful not to move burned areas too much, and then he returns again, this time with food and medicine. He works fast at bandaging and disinfecting the burns, seems he is as intent at patching you up, as he is at tearing you apart. As he swathes another burn, you look at the brought food.

It’s unlikely he would drug it to make you tell the truth, given that he already tortures you and he doesn’t seem to be a type to play mind games. It still could be laced with poison though, not lethal one, that would be counterproductive, but the one that can cause pain and tremors all over your body. You’ve seen such substance at work once, when Il Dottore decided to show you the fruits of his experiments - victims were thrashing and shaking on the floor once a five minute mark had been passed, by the twentieth they already admitted to all crimes, regardless of how innocent they were.

It might be even a new torture method, devised by Diluc, just to strip you from the short respite when you are not in pain. He finally looks up to you, finishing the bandage, noticing the stare you look at the food with. "It's not poisoned" he guesses your thoughts, taking a small bite and a sip to prove his words. A minute passes, then the second and the third ones, nothing happens with him, no blushing or paling skin, no wide blown or pinprick pupils, nothing. It still could be a slow acting poison, but you doubt it - they're usually harder to cure, Diluc wouldn't willingly consume it given the long list of aftereffects that remain even after antidote was administered.

Thankfully, he doesn’t stay to feed you, leaving you with food alone. It’s a potato hash browns, absolutely unseasoned and cold. You almost swallow them whole from hunger, realizing how starved you are once the smell of food reaches you. After a day(?) of fasting, satiation hits you full force, drowsiness pulling at every muscle. The tableware he brought is metallic and easily bends, so you can't smash it and use sharp pieces, nor are there any utensils to weaponize. You lay down on the side, as something falls on you. It's a stone.

Your hands take it, feeling its shape - mostly smooth with one angular protrusion. It's not sharp or pointed enough for you to cut through the bindings, but with enough time and effort it can break the rope with friction alone. You begin to work, grating the rope again and again, fighting off the sleepiness.

***

Diluc nods to Adelinde, as he returns from Mondstadt after signing the contract with winesellers from Inazuma. She understands this wordless gesture, starting to talk: “The.. guest you brought has eaten, last time I checked they still were awake. I did my best to be quiet, master Diluc”.

He dismisses her, thanking for her observations and decides to go down himself. A strange sort of fascination fills him, as he turns the key in the lock, that also prompts a burning shame that he grew accustomed to in the last few days.

It’s an awful thing, to find pleasure in another’s suffering - a trait of a heartless monster, as his father once said, but despite the chagrin he still can’t help but feel a quickening of the pulse as a pained whimper escapes your lips. It’s addicting honestly, to have you of all people, naked and trembling and helpless at his total control, when you were so close to ending his life just a couple of months ago. He supposes it's a type of karmic punishment to you, a fatui harbinger, no doubt a killer and horrible person - you deserve it, he tells to himself - you deserve it for being a fatui.

Moreover, you are not only a terrible, terrible person that deserves much more gruesome torture that he allows, you are also a source of priceless information - how many lives will be saved and avenged if you just tell him what fatuis plan to do. You are a harbinger, you are bound to know something, unlike most of the fatui.

Diluc carefully glances at you as he enters - you are still sitting in the same spot he left you in, head slumped low and shoulders relaxed. It seems you are asleep. He still makes his way to you, steps slow and quiet. Your hands are bound with rope and Diluc knows how much the rough fiber pulls and chafes at skin, grating it to the blood and ropeburns - he needs to use this short respite to quickly disinfect and bandage you again.

Diluc crouches down, as you twitch and then something aims for his head, he flinches a second too slow to dodge. You nearly manage to hit him right in the temple. His head almost splits in half from the burst of pain, vision blurry and disoriented.

You quickly stand, enduring the pain from the burns and make your way to the room. Diluc runs after you, panic and anger distorting his face in equal manner - he can’t let anyone see you like that! - but you manage to lock him in using his own keys. He kicks and thrashes the door, angry at himself for not carrying claymore with him, as something loudly collides with the wall at the other side. He hears a short surprised yelp and whimper - your whimper and the too familiar footsteps descending down the stairs- Adelinde.

“Master Diluc? Is everything okay?”, the headmaid unlocks the room, concern in her voice:”I saw.. the guest running out of the basement, so I pushed them back before other maids could see”

“Everything is fine, check on the Harbinger, I still need intel”.

Turns out, you blacked out upon the impact, a small trail of blood making its way down the head. Diluc is still angry at you, head throbbing and hurting, his hands itching to hit and burn you, but he can’t allow himself to lose control: you are hurt and he doesn’t want to kill you.

In the end, it’s all predictable, Diluc muses, you are an animal first and human second, your allegiance testament to that. He was too soft, too forgiving on you and you decided to twist his kindness like a blade in the back. His head still hurts, but he finally calms, reasoning your attack as an outlash of a mindless beast.

He carries your limp body in hands, finally taking out of the basement and takes you to one of the guest rooms at the second floor of the winery - it’s a risky move, but you injured your head and in Diluc’s experiences such traumas almost always carry a great risk - maybe you will even forget who you are and there’ll be no one for Diluc to interrogate to.

Placing your body on the bed he clasps a cuff around each of your limbs and gags and blindfolds you. After a second, he asks Adelinde for cotton and stuffs your ears full of it.

Human mind stripped of all stimuli is such a dangerous thing, tearing itself apart.

***

You wake up to darkness and silence, head slightly pulsing from pain. You lie on some sort of very soft bed, silk smooth sheets consuming and hugging most of your body as you wiggle your limbs, tugging at the cuffs.

A small wave of panic washes over you, as you remain absolutely blind and deaf to the world, but you try to remain calm, unsure if Diluc is standing near or not. The bindings on your hands are made of iron now, so you soon stop, knowing it's a futile thing. The only thing you can do is wait.

You don't know how much time passes between you regaining consciousness and the air shifting around you. Having been stripped of both sight and hearing, your other senses became a bit sharper, mind focusing on them to compensate. It's a subtle change of pressure but you still feel it, it's enough for you to guess where this person stands. Suddenly hands grope at you, touching and probing the place near burns. You would scream if it wasn’t for the gag, from pain and violation alone. It's a smaller palms, judging by sensations, they change the bandages. After whoever that was finishes patching you they leave you alone, their departure evoking both relief and sadness - they were a source of stimulations, stimulations that your mind desperately needs.

You start to tug at the bindings again - this time to procure pain, just to feel something again. You are bored, you are in pain and you are scared - not the best combination. Soon, you decide to distract yourself from ever increasing boredom with memories. Images of your past life flash and change before you - here’s you playing catch and hide and seek, here’s you receiving a vision, here’s you entering fatui and climbing through the ranks, here's you receiving delusion from Tsaritsa’s own hands and here's you battling Diluc for the first time.

I should have killed him, you think, I should have spent less time talking and more time fighting, the bastard wouldn't live to see another day and I wouldn't be here.

A strange feeling of panic settles in your bones, as you try to occupy yourself, it's subtle but never ending, slowly growing with each second. You try to daydream but you can’t, not when you are cuffed and your body burns. You try to reminisce again, but you can do only so much, memories becoming dull and repetitive. Soon, the subtle panic becomes not so subtle and you realize you are gasping and thrashing, limbs achings as you rub them against the rough shackles.

You must have blacked out or drifted to sleep, because the next time you wake up you feel a bit different - a little cleaner and more sated - they tend to me, when I am unconscious you realize. Diluc wants to limit all interactions I have.

You don't know how much time you spend there in the end, but it has a profound effect on you - at first the concept of sharing fatui plans with your captor seems nonsensical and traitorous, but after a couple of days-weeks(?) of being chained to one place with limited movement and perception, it stops looking like such a bad idea to you.

Time distorts around you, you can't tell how long you were lying there, seconds turning into minutes and minutes into hours and hours into near eternities. At one point you started to cry again, scared and panicked and then you proceeded to scream.

***

Diluc comes to you again, taking out the cotton and blindfold from your person. Your eyes hurt and your head starts to ache again from the rush of noises, and you blink a couple of times to see the man before you. A strange mix of emotions washes over you - you hate Diluc, you truly despise him with every fibre of your being, yet now Diluc is the only person you have, the only person you see. It’s so confusing and overwhelming that you start to cry, unable to process any of the feelings.

Diluc looks as prim and proper as ever, as he shushes your crying and promises to let you go if only you will tell Tsaritsa’s plans. You almost believe him, Fatui secrets dancing at the tip of his mouth, yet you hold on to the pieces of your loyalty, slowly shaking your head. He asks you again, doubt and concern in his voice. It will be better if you tell me, he says, his hand still stroking you, don’t you want to walk and see again?.

His hand stops stroking you, face turning back to stone when you refuse him for the second time. He fixes blindfold and cotton again and part of you is howling - it’s scary, so scary to be left alone with nothing but your thoughts.

This time you start to break far faster, having tasted freedom for a mere second. You break down and tell Diluc everything you know next time he visits. His hand on you feels like salvation and punishment at the same time. At the end of your confession you are too empty, all of your secrets laid before him, no place for sadness or grief left inside of you. You feel whatever was inside of you was scorched off by Diluc and it left you thoroughly burnt. Dead. Made of ash.

“My name is [First]”, you wail and howl, shoulders slightly shaking as you do. You want so much to have some human contact, to hear someone call your name for once.

It’s cathartic in a way, to tell all the secrets your mind has been bustling with ever since becoming a harbinger. He doesn’t flinch or frown when you tell what exactly you witnessed or did, intently listening to each word.

He keeps his promise and uncuffs you from the bed, but you are still not allowed to leave the room, which doesn’t really disappoint you. There are books and a small barred window that opens a view to the wineyard, a feast for the starving mind. You spend at least an hour standing at the window at first, amazed that you can see people working.

He gifts you clothes and other books, assigns a housemaid to look after you, the same one that pushed you down the stairs when you were running away, she doesn’t speak to you, preferring to avoid your gaze.

Sometimes you do feel sad - you betrayed Tsaritsa, you betrayed your homeland, you lost both vision and delusion - but you quickly shove it down, unable to process feelings properly. You know you are defeated, having seen similar behavior from fatui prisoners, and Diluc knows it too, a malice and triumph and satisfaction burning on his eyes, despite the impassive face.

He sees you as a trophy, a reminder of how he reduced the great fatui harbinger to your current condition. He orders you around and punishes when you disobey, calls it reeducation, calls it teaching you how to be a decent person, calls it a punishment for your sins. A part of you wants to retort and point out his own failings, but you stop yourself at the root, unwilling to be stripped from the world again. You comply, you suppress, you break little by little. It all pleases him.

You learn to love what hurt you the most out of pure fear.

***

“First?”, it’s Diluc, shaking you slightly by the shoulders. You snap back to reality, seeing that he already carried you to bed and undressed you.

“I am here, you can continue” you whisper as he leans down to pepper your chest and collarbone with kisses, and then hiss as he bites you.

“Mhm, that’s good,” he says, warm hands traveling down to your thighs, caressing the inner side: “Could you spread them a bit?”

You obey, equally parts scared and excited.

Truly, Diluc is the best thing that happened in your life.

Note: All fatui harbinger names are taken from commedia dell'arte. Innamorati are a couple of lovers, madly in love with each other and with the idea of being in love. I thought it would be ironic.

#yandere diluc ragnvindr x reader #yandere diluc x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #Yandere genshin #Yandere diluc #yandere x reader #yandere #I am lowkey dissapointed in myself #Both reader and diluc are bad people #My sleep meds stopped working:((( #my writing

[lilxberry]

Truth - Maddy Perez

Synopsis;

Maddy, during a party, was dared to pull quite the mean trick on you, who everyone seems to know had liked Maddy. What comes to follow certainly isn’t that of happy endings.

Warnings: Language. ANGST. 

Words: 1,243 (if only the 3 and 4 were switched lmao)

Pairing: Maddy Perez x Reader. Maddy Perez x Nate Jacobs.

(A/N: Here’s part 2 to Dare. I’m definitely doing a part 3 ‘cause I’m feeling iffy with how this ended. Plus I have ideas to where I can take this now.)

Part 1: Dare

_______________

After the embarrassment at the party during the weekend, you unfortunately still had to attend school today. You kept your head down in shame as you pass through the doors, not brave enough to meet anybody’s eye. It felt odd, being surrounded by so many people after isolating yourself from everyone for a few days.

As you walked along the hallways, heading towards the history class for first period, Maddy had her gaze set upon you. She felt a pang of guilt inside of her as she watched your form. She had only done the dare because Nate had roped her into the game. They had only recently gotten back together so she wanted to keep him happy.

The whole school had known of your feelings towards the girl and it appeared they had taken that knowledge and twisted it to fit into their sick game of Truth or Dare.

Maddy wouldn’t dare to speak of how she truly felt about you, especially when Nate is involved. Nate can become...violent when showing his possessive side and she knew that he would somehow hurt you as well as her if he even remotely felt he was losing Maddy to someone like you.

But Maddy’s secretive side stays as it implies. Secretive. 

Oh how she wished she could go up to you, apologise and confess how she truly felt but this isn’t the same sodding game that was played Friday, this was real shit with real consequences which she couldn’t afford to go through.

Maddy inwardly sighed as to not raise suspicion with her boyfriend whom is placed beside her by her locker. She collected what she needed, closed her locker quickly and headed to class, hand in hand with Nate. 

_______________

You had gone through most of the day without many issues. The old look you received from your peers, in pity or amusement, were a less frequent occurrence than you had imagined they be which shocked you.

That changed once lunch time rolled around. 

You made your way into the cafeteria like usual although more reserved, and sat at your usual table. You were halfway through your food when the large space had suddenly fell silent. Curious, you looked up and noticed Maddy heading towards you, just like that Friday at the party, a more sympathetic and sombre expression across her features this time.

“Hey. Can we talk?” If it wasn’t for the deathly quiet room, you’re almost certain you wouldn’t have heard her. 

You scoffed. “Not really in the fucking mood for conversating, Perez.” She had slightly flinch at the use of her surname being spat out with a venomous tone.

Maddy regained her composure and exuded confidence as she spoke. “I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer Y/N.”

You sighed as you realised the truth behind her words. If Maddy Perez was anything, it’s stubborn. You pushed your half empty tray forward as you stood up and made quick haste picking up your bag. 

She turned on her heel and strutted towards the exit of the cafeteria with great speed, you trailing behind. Just by the silence that still remained, you knew all eyes were on the both of you as you walked.

She had led you towards the parking lot and towards her car. Maddy unlocked her vehicle and motioned for you to get in. You inwardly groaned as you rounded the car to the passengers side and climbed in. You situated yourself on to the passenger seat, body slightly turned, ready for Maddy to speak as tries to get comfortable herself. 

Maddy finally broke the silence as she angled her body to face you. “I’m sorry. About Friday. It was a real dick move and I knew I shouldn’t have done it. I knew it would have fucked with you like that but I still went through with it and I’m sorry.”

You sat there silently, processing her words for what felt like hours but in actuality were only minutes. You sighed out before you looked her in the eye. “You never used to be like this, Mads. Ever since you started dating Nate, you’ve become this colossal bitch and I really fucking hate that. And I think you do too.”

Before she could utter a single word, you continued. “When I realised I liked you, it was before you changed into...this.” You motioned towards her with your hand. “I tried stopping whatever the fuck it was I was feeling for you but it didn’t fucking work. You were really fucking nice before Nate, Mads. It pissed me off to realise you changed so much for one prick who, by the way, does not treat you right.”

“I get it, okay! And I’m sorry! I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N.” Maddy exclaimed loudly, trying to show that she understands. You scoffed yet again at the words the girl spoke.

“I don’t think you do get it, not really. Shit, I was in love with you! What you did Friday was seriously fucked up! When everyone found out I liked you, I had so much shit off of people! I was even threatened by Nate when that shit came out, don’t you understand that?!” By this point, you were enraged at how the girl had made you feel. You noticed the steady flow of tears from her eyes and felt the build up of your own. 

“I hate you, Maddy Perez.” 

Those words wounded her to no end. Maddy had felt like she had been punched in the chest by Mike Tyson on repeat. Her heart had felt like it turned into fragile glass that had instantly shattered.

“You don’t mean that! You don’t mean that, Y/N!” She had began to sob as she shook her head vigorously, denying the existence of that hurtful sentence as much as she could muster. 

Maddy quickly grabbed your face surged herself forward whilst pulling you towards her, crashing your lips together. You quickly broke away from her. “What the actual fuck, Maddy?!” You looked at her in surprise, anger and, much to Maddy’s dismay, disgust. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?! What? Do you enjoy fucking with my head? HUH?!” 

You had wiped the back of your hand across your mouth, harshly cleaning your lips of her gloss mixed with tears. You swung the door open and quickly scrambled to get out. Maddy pleaded with you as you exited her car but her pleas fell upon deaf ears. You refused to listen. 

After she watched your form leave the parking lot and heading for the main gates through her blurred vision, Maddy released a guttural scream as she wailed in anguish over pushing you so far that you had eventually left.

Forcing herself to calm down, Maddy decided that she couldn’t go back in. Typing a quick text to Nate with trembling hands, she placed her phone on to her lap and began to drive home. 

‘not feeling too great rn, heading home. speak later xx’

_______________

Nate looked down at his phone and his jaw clenched. He would have believed her if he hadn’t witnessed the whole ordeal between his girlfriend and yourself. He was pissed but he knew how to work the situation in his favour.

He believed Maddy was made solely for him and him alone. He wasn’t going to share and he wasn’t going to play fair. 

No one snatches what’s his and gets away with it. 

_______________

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I mean, Idek what to say about this

It could definitively be both better and worse. Y’all got to remember that I only started writing fics at the end of November PLUS I’m juggling this with college lmao

Anyway, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

#maddy perez #maddy perez x #maddy perez x reader #x reader #x fem reader #x fem #x female!reader #euphoria #hbo euphoria #euphoria fic #euphoria fanfic #euphoria fandom #euphoria fanfiction #hbo #maddy perez fic #nate jacobs

[arashikitten]

Dark Danny Should’ve Come Back at Least Once

I think most of the Phandom can agree that The Ultimate Enemy was one of the best Danny Phantom episodes ever made, and for good reason. It was incredibly dark of a kid’s cartoon, especially one made by Bitch Hartman, and on top of that, it provided some very interesting lore and characters. We get to see Danny pushed to his absolute emotional limit in a way that I don’t think the show ever did before, save maybe for My Brother’s Keeper in season 1, and we get our first glimpse at Clockwork, who thanks to @five-rivers fanfic Mortified, has become one of my favorite DP characters. And of course, we get to see Dark Danny, or Dan.

But there’s one little thing about this episode that’s always bothered me: the very ending.

Because at the very end of TUE, we get a shot of the Fenton thermos that Dan is sealed away in rocking back and forth, before Dan’s face forms a massive dent in the side, his laughter echoing as the screen fades to the end credits.

You would think, with an ending like that, that Dan would come back in a later episode. That he would return in the series finale is this last big bad, this final demon for Danny to confront once and for all. 

But that’s not what happens. And it kinda pisses me off.

Dan should’ve come back. We should have gotten at least one more episode with this guy, exploring more of his character, more of his side of the story, anything at all. And you know what would be a great way to do this?

Vlad.

Imagine this, if you will.

Dan makes his escape from Clockwork’s lair, dead set on finishing what he started. Eventually, he discovers Vlad’s portal (let’s say that Vlad decided to rebuild his here) and, upon coming face to face with the man who made him like this in the first place, freaks out. Dan makes an attempt on Vlad’s life, and Vlad just barely manages to escape.

Once Vlad is sure this strange new ghost won’t find him so easily, he realizes that this new ghost had Danny’s insignia on his chest, and puts it together that Danny must be involved in this somehow. 

So Vlad makes his way to Amity Park to confront Danny about this new ghost. Danny assumes that Vlad is there to try to kill Jack or whatever, the two get into a massive fistfight, before Vlad finally tells Danny that he’s only here because a strange new ghost wearing Danny’s insignia popped out of his portal this morning attempting to kill him a second time.

And Danny freezes. He goes from snarky and flippant to sheer, raw terror that has Vlad actually worried. Danny demands to know what this new ghost looks like, and Vlad’s concern turns to fear when Danny’s face goes white with horror because this is the same kid who went up against Pariah Dark without a second thought, who has faced countless ghosts who’s powers could be considered godly with a fearless smile on his face, and Vlad may not have much respect for Danny but he knows what the kid lacks in intelligence he more than makes up for in bravery. 

Meaning that whoever this new ghost is must be incredibly powerful, incredibly horrific, and incredibly dangerous.

Danny tells Vlad to go to Danny’s house and tell them to put the ghost shields surrounding the town up, to not try anything funny, and don’t. Leave. The Shields. No matter what.

For once, Vlad decides to take Danny’s lead. He appears on the Fenton’s doorstep, Armani suit ruffled and hair disheveled, telling them that there is a very powerful ghost making it’s way toward Amity Park and they need to put the ghost shields up now, or risk a Pariah Dark-level threat again. 

Then Vlad makes his way toward the edge of town, because he still hasn’t gotten an answer from Danny as to who exactly that ghost was, and he’ll be damned if he can’t get an answer.

Meanwhile, Danny is just outside the ghost shields, waiting for Dan to arrive. He’s absolutely terrified, because what if Danny isn’t strong enough this time? What if he fails again, like he almost did before Clockwork turned back time? Would Clockwork do that for him again? Would he have to watch his future burn down this present that he’s taken so long to keep up?

Then Dan arrives. Right as Vlad makes it to the edge of the shield. 

And Vlad watches with awe as the two fight. He watches as Danny holds his own against this ghost that had almost decimated Vlad barely 2 hours prior, watches as Danny outmaneuvers, outsmarts this menace, watches as Danny fights tooth and nail in a way that Vlad is sure he’s never seen before, and he realizes that Danny has been holding back. Maybe not at first, maybe not during those first few months, but definitely for a while now, because Danny is holding his own now when Vlad couldn’t.

But then that leaves the question as to why? Why is Danny going all out now? Why was he so scared of this new ghost? More importantly, when did Danny encounter this guy? 

Because he had to have fought this ghost at least once before, to have had that reaction to Vlad’s description. 

And then, he hears the other ghost’s voice, one that sounds like a strange mixture of his and Danny’s, and he hears him say “It doesn’t matter what you do, Danny. You might’ve stopped that explosion, but there are still so many other things that lead to me. A car crash, an unlucky ghost attack, the ecto-filtrator, Vlad getting lucky, all of them could still happen. Your friends, your family, all gone, and you still turn into me.”

And suddenly, everything makes sense. That ghost that Danny’s fighting, that ghost that attacked Vlad, that is Danny, or it was, before something twisted him into an unrecognizable monster, and Vlad has a creeping suspicion that it has something to do with him.  And he realizes that Danny is so much more than he ever gave him credit for. He sees Danny, fighting his own future with a hope that Vlad would call naive if not for the fact that Danny had already thwarted whatever horrible future lead to this at least once before, and he understands that he was wrong about Danny.

Because this? Fighting against the personification of all the worst parts of yourself not once, but at least twice? It would require a maturity, a strength of will that Vlad knows he himself lacks, and he comes to the stunning realization that for all the childish quips and petty pranks, Danny is far more mature than Vlad ever was, far stronger than Vlad ever was.

And then, Danny does the ghostly wail.

And if Vlad was surprised before, then he's absolutely terrified now. That’s enough power to destroy an entire city, that single wail, and the sound is a bone-chilling scream that rubs the older halfa wrong in every way possible because that sound should not come from someone as young as Danny.

And now Vlad is caught between two realizations: that Danny is so much stronger than Vlad could ever be in every sense of the word, and that the only reason Danny is that strong is because he has to be, because he’s a child being forced to go against all manner of ghostly and cosmic horror all on his own, and Vlad suddenly feels intensely guilty because he should’ve been helping Danny, and instead he’s done nothing but make his life harder.

At that point, Jack and Maddie arrive. They freak out because Vlad is so close to Phantom and this other extremely powerful ghost, what the hell is he thinking!? And Vlad is trying desperately to get them to leave, because Danny looks exhausted and Vlad might be an ass, but he’s starting his redemption arc now and that means making sure Danny’s secret, and by extension Danny himself, is safe from his parents. Vlad knows what it’s like to be on an examination table, knows how terrifying it is to have doctors looming over you with knives and bright lights while you have no idea what’s going on, and he’ll be damned if he lets Danny (who he again reminds himself is very much still a child) go through that with his own parents.

But it’s too late. Danny detransforms right there on the street, in full view of Jack and Maddie and everyone else who’s gathered there (Dan’s been sucked back in the thermos at this point).

Danny turns around, covered in scratches and burns and bruises, blood in his mouth from where Dan punched him in the lip, left arm hanging in an unnatural angle, and he sees everyone: He sees Vlad, icy blue eyes so similar to Danny’s own filled with uncharacteristic worry.

He sees Sam and Tucker, both with wide, scared eyes, and he can just barely see the faint shimmer of tears gathering in their eyes.

He sees Jazz, face pale and her knuckles white as she grips the Fenton peeler with all her strength.

He sees Valerie, her helmet down and exposing a flurry of emotions ranging from shock to anger to horror to pain.

He sees his mom and dad, clinging to each other as they stare at Danny, at their son, and come to the realization that their son is dead, their son is a ghost and he has been for a while now and how did they never notice? How could they not notice that they had been shooting at their own son for at least a year now, that their boy had been putting his afterlife on the line for them while also trying to keep up with school, and evade capture by the GIW, all at the same time?

And Danny is scared, he’s so scared, because his parents look horrified of him and they think he’s a monster, and they hate him, because why else would they be looking at him like that?

He feels his fathers arms wrapping around him and he’s sure, he’s so sure that they’re about to haul him off to their lab to be pinned down and dissected by his own parents, because they saw Dan, they saw what he would become, they saw what he is now, they know now. But then his mom and dad start apologizing, because they never noticed, and they should’ve, they should’ve seen that Danny’s low grades and missed curfews and skipped classes were because he was putting his life on the line for everyone in this town over and over and over again. They apologize for not making him feel safe in his own house, because how many times did they rant about dissecting their own son right in front of him? How many times had Jack and Maddie shown Danny a dissected blob ghost and effectively told him that he was the next one on the list? How much hell did their own son have to go through on his own, because his own parents couldn’t see what was right there?

And Danny finally realizes that no, he’s not going to end up on a dissection table, that his parents do accept him as he is now. 

But there’s still this lingering fear because they don’t know. They don’t know what Danny might turn into, and he can’t keep that from them anymore, because Dan is a secret he can’t keep anymore.

Jack and Maddie are confused when their son pulls away, and for a moment they’re worried that Danny’s upset with them, that he’s angry at them, because why wouldn’t he be?

Then they see this nervousness, they see how he’s shaking and tense, and they might not always be able to read the room that well but they can tell that there’s something else going on here that Danny wants to tell them, even if he’s scared to.

So Jack and Maddie ask Danny if he wants to talk about whatever it is back at the house, and Danny says yes, but Vlad, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz should also be there, because Danny needs some level of support and he knows that Vlad won’t stop pestering him about Dan until he tells him.

Valerie steps in at this point, finally getting over her shock to demand to know what the hells going on, was Danny Phantom the whole time? Who was that other ghost? Why did that other ghost say that Danny would turn into him?

Sam and Tucker, who have been through the emotional wringer watching their best friend fight his evil future self, then reveal his identity to his parents, are kinda pissed at Valerie, because Danny’s already stressed out enough as is, she doesn’t need to be adding on to it. A fight almost breaks out between the three of them, which only stopped when Vlad of all people, steps in saying that while Valerie does have a right to know what’s going on, all of this yelling will do nothing but cause problems.

The three simmer down, and they all head over to the Fenton’s house, where Danny tells them everything: the portal, Pariah Dark (Vlad suddenly finds a particularly interesting spot on the floor), and Dan. He tells them about how Jack, Maddie, Jazz, Sam, and Tucker died in an explosion in that timeline, how that timeline’s Danny turned to Vlad to take him in, how Alt!Danny asked Vlad to remove his human half so he wouldn’t feel that pain anymore. How Alt!Phantom had been driven insane by the separation (he leaves out the part where Phantom fuses with Vlad’s ghost half: he’s not sure Vlad wants him to tell them about his halfa status), killing his human half before destroying most of humanity. How Danny had been forced to fight Dan a year ago, when he had attempted to blow up his friends in family in this timeline to ensure Dan’s recreation here.

When he’s finally done, about an hour and a half later, Danny looks around the room: at Valerie, at Vlad, at his best friends, at his sister, at his parents, and he sees not only acceptance, but respect. Pride. Because they saw that Danny was willing to look his fate in the eye, and say that he would change it no matter what. They saw him fight tooth and nail to protect them, they saw him defend them from his own demons with a bravery most grown adults don’t have, much less a 14 year old boy.

And they accept him.

#Danny Phantom #long post #how I think the finale shouldve gone #Dan Phantom #vlad masters #vlad plasmius #jazz fenton #jack and maddie fenton #sam manson #Tucker Foley #valerie gray #angst #Dan shouldve been the series finale villian and I will fight anyone who says otherwise #Vlad could’ve gotten a redemption arc where he realizes that Danny is technically a kid and is so much stronger than Vlad gives him credit #like yeah I made a post on how Vlad is both an incel and a boomer not two days ago #but like #his character could’ve been so much better? #Danny could’ve gotten a mentor dammit! #BAMF Danny

[ignisaeri]

~

At that time, all Alatus could hear was the howling of the wind, and the screams of the Yakshas as they waged war against their karmic debts.

A blaze of crimson flame splits the night sky as the Pyro Yaksha shrieks, clawing desperately at scarlet locks of hair with bloodied fingernails, trying to rid herself of demons only she can see. Her eyes flash with the light of a thousand stars as she throws her head back, pleading with the darkness in ragged gasps to leave her, to go somewhere where they could not haunt her. She’s still begging as she dies.

~

The Geo Yaksha rests his foot against the Hydro Yaksha’s abdomen, using her still body as leverage to draw his sharpened blade out from between her ribs. His eyes stare into the distance, unseeing, pupils clouded over with an inky black, fingers twitching as they hold the weapon that had killed one of his oldest friends. The Hydro Yaksha only lays quietly, death caressing her form with its bony fingers, the pool of water beneath them tinged pink from blood.

~

The Electro Yaksha falls to his knees, gaze finding Alatus’ one last time, seemingly apologizing for leaving the Anemo Yaksha alone for eternity. His slender hands float over the blade embedded in his chest, then collapses onto his side as his last breaths leave him, currents of violet electricity flickering out into nothing. He dies silhouetted against the blackness of The Chasm, as silent as the sun creeping over the horizon, even as the battle rages endlessly around them.

~

Rex Lapis gazes at Alatus with such pity, such sadness, before smiling hesitantly, gold eyes meeting the Yaksha’s.

‘Sit, Ever Vigilant Yaksha. The archon war is over. Let us share a cup of osmanthus wine.”

“Alatus, I free you from your duty as a Yaksha. In the fables of another world, the name Xiao is that of a spirit who encountered great suffering and hardship. He endured much suffering, as you have. Use this name from now on.”

“Yes, Morax.”

~

The God of Freedom seeks him out one evening, when he’s resting quietly near the edge of a cliff, feet dangling restlessly off the side, imagining the faces of the lost Yakshas floating through the clouds. Barabatos’ braids glow a gentle forest green, and he inclines his head slightly towards Xiao as he nears.

“Alatus, correct?”

“Xiao,” the adeptus corrects him.

“Xiao,” Barbatos says, “Rex Lapis told me of you.”

~

“It was you with the flute, was it not?” Xiao tells Barbatos as they watch the workers construct a massive statue in Liyue’s center, honoring the late Tianquan. Ningguang’s placid face smiles down at them as the workers dust the marble, freeing it from dust and grime.

Venti bobs his head, gaze never straying from where Rex Lapis (now Zhongli) stands with arms folded, gaze dark. With Ningguang gone, the last of the Liyue Qixing has perished.

“Yes,” Venti says. “I saved you that day.”

~

Tonight, they drink, in honor of the dead. Zhongli gingerly holds a glass of osmanthus wine, a glaze lily tucked into his hair. “To Guizhong,” he says. “Havria, Ningguang, and Tartaglia.”

Venti hiccups, face the color of an overripe tomato, the glass of dandelion wine tipping dangerously in his grip. “To the children of Mond,” he choruses. “To the Ragvindr brothers, to Jean, to Lisa, to Noelle. To Klee!”

Baal is here tonight too, and she leans forward restlessly. “To Kujou Sara,” she adds. “To Kitsune, Chiyo, and to Sasayuri.”

Tonight should be solemn, Xiao thinks, as they list the names of their dead companions. Yet, nearly five hundred years after the last of them passed, he feels nothing but contentment.

Xiao raises his own glass. “To the traveler and his sister,” he says. “And to the Yakshas”.

~

Xiao watches as Venti’s fingers dance, weaving an enticing melody through the hollow sounds of his flute. He’s sitting against a rock, the cool water of the stream lapping at his ankles, washing against the outcropping where Venti stands, a face full of bliss as he plays.

The song is one that Xiao wished to hear, one that he had first heard from the cart of a passing merchant shortly after the end of the Archon War.

The notes seem to float away into the air as he listens, chasing away the darkness in his soul, and he closes his eyes, reveling in this small moment of peace.

~

Sometimes, when Xiao sleeps, he dreams. He dreams of a woman wreathed in fire, eyes burning tears down her cheeks. He dreams of a not-truly-there man, standing with his blade buried in the chest of a woman floating limp in blood-tinged water. He dreams of purple lightning dying as a man takes his last breaths deep within The Chasm.

~

He knows, of course, that he cannot run forever. One day, he will become engulfed by his karmic debt, like the Pyro Yaksha, or go mad and disappear, like the Geo Yaksha.

That day comes sooner than he thinks.

~

Liyue is burning. The city is just as Xiao remembers, a perfect place of beauty. If he concentrates, he can still barely remember the night of the Lantern Rite, thousands of years ago. He closes his eyes and wishes to see the light of a hundred lanterns, instead of the light of fire the buildings shudder and succumb to the roaring flame.

Zhongli stands in front of him, something akin to pain in his gaze, one arm thrown to the side to keep Venti from rushing forwards. The Anemo Archon’s eyes are wide and wild, hat askew and bow grasped in shaking hands. Baal stands straight, weapon drawn, sorrow dotting her gaze.

Fontaine’s archon, the God of Justice, flits around the backdrop of burning flame, hurriedly trying to save as much of Liyue as she can. Her hands wave, spilling waves of water over the temples and buildings, undoing the damage that Xiao caused. The Dendro and Pyro Archons are busy, pulling screaming mortals from the wreckage and destruction.

Three torches and three exploding barrels, compiled with Xiao’s anemo attacks, had set all of Liyue aflame.

There is distant screaming in Xiao’s ears, sounds he knows only he can hear. Deliriously, he recalls the Pyro Yaksha howling at non-existent demons millennia ago and wonders absently if the same will afflict him.

The karmic debt has finally taken over, and it seems to favor the path the Geo Yaksha had taken. Xiao almost laughs as he realizes this, feeling trapped within his skin as he wields his polearm, pointed unwaveringly at the archons.

“I am sorry,” he rasps. There is darkness at the edge of his sight, and the screams only intensify. He can hear individual voices now, hissing and howling and wailing, crying for mercy and death and blood.

“Do not apologize,” Zhongli says. “It is not your fault.”

“What is this?” Venti gasps, the sound echoing in Xiao’s ears. “Xiao, what is happening?”

Baal answers for him. “It is the fate of a Yaksha.” Electricity begins to crackle around her shoulders, eyes darkening to violet as she calls the power of the storm.

Xiao wants to weep at how much she reminds him of the Electro Yaksha.

Maybe, he muses, he will see his fellow Yakshas again. Maybe he’ll meet Aether and Lumine too, in the place that lies after death. He may finally meet those who used to belong to Mond, the ones that Venti talks of so adoringly.

Zhongli finally draws his polearm, an earthen pillar appearing before him, casting protective gold around the archons. Xiao knows why.

He can feel the wind gusting around him, responding to calls he does not remember sending out. Leaves swirl in the gale, and trees rip their way out of the ground. The pain in his head intensifies as the number of screaming voices triple.

Xiao meets Zhongli’s gaze. Sometime, somehow, over the years, the archons had become his closest confidants. Yet, Zhongli was always his oldest companion, so now, Xiao asks Zhongli to do the impossible.

“Morax,” he croaks, using a name that hasn’t been spoken for ages. “You must.”

Zhongli’s gaze is pained, yet resolute, and that is how Xiao knows that Morax will kill him to save the world. Baal seems to sense this too, and lightning strikes the ground not too far away, anxiously awaiting her command.

It is only Venti who has not yet seemed to grasp the situation. He frowns at both archons. “What must you do, Zhongli?”

Zhongli only shakes his head, and Xiao knows it pains him to be the one who will have to kill the last Yaksha. So he answers Venti, limbs shaking as he desperately tries to contain the whirlwind threatening to tear from his chest.

“He must kill me. If he does not, I fear I will destroy Teyvat. I have lost control over my body, Venti.”

Barbatos’ eyes flash green, and Xiao is yet again reminded of the power of the archons. “No,” he says simply. “You cannot die. To live for thousands of years, to drink with us, all this time? You cannot die like this.”

Xiao loses concentration, just a tiny sliver, yet the gust of wind that tears from him shears the top off of a nearby mountain. He groans, harnessing the gale yet again, even as the action forces him to his knees.

“Morax,” he says again. “Please.”

Zhongli looks at him, and the archon’s eyes are glistening in the light of the dancing flames, as wind whips his hair into his face.

“Alatus,” he says, and his voice is full of hurt and resignation. “It has been an honor.”

Yes, Xiao wants to answer back, but he cannot force his mouth to move. He just nods, shaking his head as if he can jar the wailing into silence.

Venti starts towards Zhongli, power thrumming at the edges of his fingers, seemingly ready to resort to battle in order to prevent Xiao’s death, and that is when Baal moves. She slams into Venti, pushing him into the ground, even as wind starts to whirl around them - Venti’s magic, not Xiao’s. Her element locking curse comes a second later, binding itself around Venti, even as he hisses at her in protest.

“Xiao,” Venti cries, twisting as if he can escape the curse. His hat is lost, blown away in the wind, and his hair has come loose from its braids, flying around his face.

“Barbatos,” Xiao whispers. “I never thanked you, for saving me that day.”

Venti pauses, for a second, stunned into silence.

“Thank you,” Xiao says, over the voices in his head. “Thank you.”

Baal only looks at him solemnly, and Xiao stares back at her. They exchange no words, but Baal just nods, once, the simple gesture conveying everything he needs to know.

Xiao holds her gaze for a few more seconds, turning back to find the point of Zhongli’s spear resting above his heart.

Zhongli's face is twisted in grief, yet his blade still hits true, sliding into the hollow space between Xiao's third and fourth ribs.

Xiao chokes, the whirl of wind around him finally dying out. His legs buckle and he falls ungraciously, feeling gentle hands grasping at his clothes as he does.

Somewhere, Venti is screaming his name.

The wailing inside his skull is dissipating, and near the edges of his sight, Xiao can make out swirls of color. At first, he thinks they are the archons, and his failing body cannot see the details of their faces. Then, he recognizes a blue that does not belong to those in the present.

“Rest,” Zhongli whispers, as Xiao fades. “Rest, Alatus.”

And Xiao does, letting himself fall into the embrace of the Yaksha's, who are only becoming clearer, even as Xiao dies.

~

637 years later, a scholar strolls through the bookshelves of Sumeru's most famous academy, searching for a piece of information that could support her thesis.

She turns into a lane labelled Mondstadt: The City of Freedom, and begins to scan the titles, careful to replace everything exactly where she finds it.

There are two other travelers within the small space between the bookshelves, and they're talking to each other, quite loudly.

The scholar frowns. No matter how foreign these travelers are, the rule of silence in a library should be universal.

The first traveler, a tall man with golden eyes and umber hair that falls to his lower back flips another page in his book, completely ignoring his companion. A jade spear is strapped across his back, and the scholar thinks idly that the weapon looks more like a piece of art, with great wings of green jade shattering outwards from the main spike.

The tall man's companion is quite short, with yellow cat like eyes and evergreen tufts of hair, a pink pearl necklace slung loosely around his throat. His boyish grin seems quite misplaced.

It only takes the scholar a few moments to figure out why.

A few months ago, the scholar had studied ancient folklore of Liyue. Among them was a tale of several Yakshas, the last of whom had supposedly been buried beneath a statue of himself, on the highest peak in Liyue.

The man standing before her looks exactly the same as the grainy photo in the text. However, in the scroll of lore, the last Yaksha had worn a fierce scowl across his features, nothing like the one that stands before her now.

"Come, Zhongli," the should-be-dead Yaksha says, tugging on his friend's sleeve. "Baal is waiting for us."

"Baal can wait a while longer," the taller man says, turning the page of his book a while longer, which the scholar now sees is a copy of The Ruling System of Mondstadt: Grandmasters and Cavalry Captains.

"You said you wanted me to learn more about Mond, didn't you?" the taller man continues. "Besides, I am quite intrigued as to exactly who this 'Kaeya' is, the one you keep referencing."

The yaksha frowns. "Kaeya," he says. "Diluc's brother."

At his companion's blank stare, the yaksha says. "I'll remind you later," he chides. "We really must be going, Zhongli."

The scholar startles, embarrassed that she eavesdropped for so long. However, she still hears what the tall man says back.

"Fine. Let us go, Venti."

#genshin impact #genshin #xiao #alatus #barbatos #xiao genshin #fic #fanfic #genshin zhongli #zhongli #ningguang #venti #baal #raiden shogun #mihoyo #primogems #ao3 #fic rec #yaksha

[rosiehunterwolf]

oh take me back to the start

Prompts: Comfort and 3am

Word Count: 4,612

Characters: Jay and Cole

Timeline: After season 6

Trigger Warnings: Nightmares, Blood, Mild Gore, Panic Attack, PTSD

Summary: The past should be left in the past. Or, at least, that’s what Jay keeps telling himself. Nadakhan is gone. It’s not logical to still be afraid. But he is, and now everything that he left behind suddenly feels like it’s never going to be the same again.

Cole isn’t so convinced.

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Jay couldn’t move.

Heavy shackles weighed down his feet, and his arms felt like they were made of concrete, even though they appeared to be completely normal otherwise.

What’s happening? Where am I?

Everything around him was dark, so, so dark. Powerful gusts of wind whooshed past, threatening to knock him over, and he tried to lift his hands to shield his face. They still felt so heavy, so wrong, but slowly, slowly, he was able to move them.

He glanced up, but there was no moon, no stars. The night was utterly black.

“Hello?” he called, his voice sounding odd and detached. “Is anyone there?”

The wind whipped away his words, and he gritted his teeth. How did I get here? I don’t remember leaving the Bounty.

“Jay!”

Jay’s head whipped up at the shrill cry. He would know that voice anywhere.

Nya.

No, Nya, no, Nya, no-

Jay tried to jerk towards the sound, but he still couldn’t move. The chains were still there, only curling around his ankles tighter each time he tried to yank away. “Nya! Nya, I’m coming, Nya!”

With a gasp, he suddenly broke free, almost falling to the ground from the sudden release of tension. Not wasting a second, he darted off towards Nya’s voice, stumbling blindly through the dark but desperate to get to her. The wind wrapped around him, pushing in on him and making it hard to breathe.

“Nya!” he screamed, stopping to look around. “Where are you?”

Suddenly, a small orange light appeared in the distance. Jay gasped and started running towards it. He had to go there. She was there, he could feel it.

As he got closer, things began to get lighter- he could make out shadows forming in the corners of his vision, reaching, curling towards him. He forced his gaze forward and ran faster.

He could see something now, two shadowy figures. Green tinted the corners of his vision, slowly spreading forward until his whole world was a shade of sickly lime. He shook his head, but it did nothing to help.

Suddenly, he was there, the figures mere feet from him. One was lying on the ground, a bloodcurdling scream coming from her mouth.

“Nya!” he yelped, but suddenly the other figure was in front of him. A tall, orange-skinned man stood in front of him, long dark hair unfurling from his topknot, a malicious sneer on his face, a dark amber mist curling where his legs should’ve been.

Jay’s heart stopped.

Nadakhan.

Jay screamed, stumbling backward, and the djinn laughed, turning back towards Nya. Grabbing her hair, he roughly yanked her towards him.

“Jay!” Nya shrieked. Jay lurched towards them, but there was suddenly a stabbing pain in his left eye and he stumbled to the ground, watching helplessly as Nadakhan raised the Djinn Blade over her head.

“Leave her alone!” Jay cried, but his voice was dry and cracked. Suddenly, the blade was plunging towards her. Jay didn’t know if his scream or Nya’s was louder as the weapon cut through her chest, and suddenly blood was spewing everywhere, seeping across her dress, into his clothes, dripping through his fingers-

Jay screamed, lurching forward and grabbing her hand. He didn’t know where Nadakhan had gone- the djinn had seemed to vanish into thin air- but he didn’t care. His mind was only on Nya.

A gaping wound stretched across her chest, her delicate, soft flesh torn and soaked in red. He screamed again, pressing his hands over it, but only more blood came, and more, and more-

His hands were dripping red, and he pulled back, sobbing. It was his fault; it was all his fault; he had done this-

“Jay,” Nya whispered hoarsely, and he stopped immediately, bending close to hear her.

“Why… why would you do this… to me… to us… how could you let this happen? How could… how could you fail the one person who always believed in you?”

“I’m so sorry, Nya,” he wailed. “I let you down, because of me- because of me, you’re-”

Nya coughed, blood gurgling at her lips, and suddenly the oozing blood was shifting from red to a bright, nauseating green.

Jay jerked back. Tiger Widow venom.

Oh no, oh no, it was all over him, he was going to die, just like Nya.

He stood up sharply, but his legs were shaky, and suddenly he was falling, falling into nothingness, Nya’s rasping breaths echoing into his ears, each one further and further apart until there was nothing.

---

Jay jerked upright in his bed, stuffing his blanket in his mouth so fiercely he almost choked, muffling his screams as he buried his face in his legs, gulping back sobs and begging himself to be quiet, before he woke the others.

One, two, three, four-

It wasn’t working. Jay’s brain felt like it was going to explode. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Nya, soaked in blood, her lifeless eyes staring up at him, and it was all his fault-

Jay practically launched himself from the bed, just barely managing to avoid falling down the ladder as he stumbled out the door of their shared bedroom.

He just barely made it to the bathroom in time, lurching over to the toilet and throwing up. Woozy, he pulled back, panting, and curled into a ball, rocking himself gently.

It was fine; it was fine; it was just a dream. Nadakhan wasn’t here anymore- he hadn’t- Jay had erased the timeline, that hadn’t even happened anymore-

But the memories were still there. It had happened to him; it was still very real to him, why couldn’t he have forgotten everything like the others?

He was trembling now, trembling hard, why were his fingers red, Nya’s blood was still on his hands, why was that still there, it had just been a dream-

Hallucinating. He was hallucinating, the blood wasn’t there. That… that wasn’t good. He had never had an attack this bad before.

He knew he should go get Nya. Ever since everything had happened with Nadakhan, she had been the only other one to remember, the only other one he could talk to, who knew what he was feeling and could comfort him on the hard nights.

But he had come to her late almost every night for the last couple of weeks since he had defeated Nadakhan. He knew Nya was struggling, too- heck, she had it worse; she had been the one who was actually dying, and the dark circles under her eyes hadn’t gone unnoticed by Jay. He knew she had been sleeping horribly. She deserved one night without him pestering her.

He hugged himself tighter, trying to imagine his own hands as Nya’s, trying to slow his breathing.

Just stop, just stop, just stop, just work- Jay, you idiot, you can’t do anything right, you’re so pathetic, this is all your fault-

“Jay?”

A voice cut through his panic, and he jerked his head up, hitting it against the bathroom cabinet and groaning.

A gentle hand on his arm. “C’mon, let’s get you outta here.”

No. Jay’s brain plunged into protest, tugging away from the unfamiliar contact. No, no, no- “Get away from me!”

The blood was back now, (had it ever really gone?), but it wasn’t Nya’s, it was his, his wrists slit and blood streaming out, concealing the dark, purpling bruises. Nadakhan had beat him again, and now his eye was hurting again, why did it hurt so bad, why couldn’t he see-

“Jay! Jay, breathe, it’s just me. You’re okay. You’re safe. Everyone’s safe. It’s going to be okay.”

His brain faintly registered Cole, and as he reached for his hand, it went right through it. Cole grimaced, gritting his teeth, and Jay tried again. This time, his hand felt warm and firm. Cole pulled him to his feet, and Jay leaned against him, trying to focus on his solid presence, to steady himself.

“Did you skip your meds again, Jay?” Cole asked, reaching into the medicine cabinet and pulling a few bottles out.

Jay blinked, trying to clear the fug from his brain. “I… what? I don’t…”

“Take a deep breath, Jay. Jay- Jay, look at me.”

Jay forced himself to meet his gaze. Cole’s deep brown eyes were soft, comforting, strong. Jay felt himself exhale, slow and long, the first proper breath in minutes. It felt good.

“No,” he murmured, “I didn’t take them. I forgot.”

“Okay, I’ll get them for you on the way there. Right now, you need to get out.”

Jay blinked, letting Cole lead him out of the bathroom. His mind still felt slow. “On the way where?”

“I dunno. But we’re just going out, taking a little car ride. The fresh air will help you.”

“O-okay,” Jay murmured, and suddenly they were outside, cool air gracing his too-warm skin. He let out a shaky breath. Cole was right, already he was feeling a little better.

The Bounty had been stationed near one of their smaller bases that night, but luckily this one housed one of the few normal vehicles they owned- riding around on the Earth Driller or Cole’s elemental dragon didn’t seem like the best option if they wanted to avoid attention.

The two of them climbed into the car, Cole in the driver’s side and Jay in the passenger’s. Cole distributed Jay some of his pills, which he took, and they set off.

Jay leaned his face against the window, the cool glass feeling good on his skin. Cole had the windows cracked too, so a fresh breeze filled the car. He watched the dark shapes flick past the window, mostly trees, but the occasional house as well, which got more frequent as they neared the city. He caught a flash of Nya’s lifeless body in the reflection of the window, and he bit his lip, deciding to count the houses as a distraction.

“So,” Cole said after a while, breaking the long silence. “What do you want to eat?”

Jay turned away from the window, blinking at him. “What?”

“A little food in my stomach always helps me when I’ve had a… rough night.”

Despite himself, Jay felt a mischievous grin spread across his lips. “You’re always thinking about food.”

Cole grunted, taking a hand off the steering wheel to shove him gently in the shoulder. “Shut up.”

After a moment, Jay asked, “Can we go to that little shack on the corner of the city that sells those really good hand-spun milkshakes?”

“I don’t think they’re open right now, bud.”

“Oh.” There was silence, then, “What time is it?”

Cole pressed his lips together. “3 am.”

Jay was quiet. It’s that late? Ugh, I am such a horrible friend. Why would I bother him with all my issues at this time of night? He should be in bed sleeping, like everyone else.

“What about McDonald’s?” Cole’s suggestion interrupted his thoughts. “They’re open all night.”

Jay scoffed. “McDonald’s? The milkshakes there are laughable at best.”

“Yeah, but at this time of night they’re really our only option.”

He sighed. “McDonald’s it is, then.”

Less than ten minutes later, they were pulling into the parking lot, the big ‘M’ sign, which was glowing a harsh yellow color, flickering slightly, giving off an almost eerie vibe. At this time of night, the parking lot was barren except for two cars, likely owned by the employees, which didn’t exactly help that feeling.

“You comin’?” Cole asked, and Jay blinked, realizing Cole was already out of the car, holding open the door for him. Cole extended a hand out and helped him up- Jay was still a little woozy from the meds- and they headed inside.

The little bell that rang as they pushed open the door sounded louder than usual in the emptiness of the building. The only person in sight was an exhausted-looking cashier who glanced up at them with a skeptical expression. Her gaze lingered a little longer on Cole’s ghostly form, but either she recognized him or was too tired to care, because she didn’t question them.

“Welcome to McDonald’s, how may I help you,” she mumbled in the driest, most monotone voice Jay had ever heard.

They ordered, waited for their food, then took a seat near the corner. Jay nibbled on a couple of fries. Cole was trying to look busy with some chicken nuggets, but Jay could feel the earth ninja’s gaze on him. He swallowed, the food suddenly seeming to stick in his throat.

“Man, I haven’t eaten these things in ages,” Cole said suddenly, glancing down at his nuggets. “I must’ve been like, nine, the last time I got a Happy Meal.”

Jay bristled. “I didn’t order a Happy Meal! This is just a regular fries and nuggets meal.”

“But it’s the exact same thing that’s in the Happy Meal, minus the toy. They just don’t call it that because it’s embarrassing if you’re not a little kid. It’s basically just a big boy Happy Meal. Hey, look at that, Jay, you graduated. We should celebrate. Maybe with this big kid Happy Meal?”

“I’ll have you know I haven’t ordered a Happy Meal since I was ten.”

Cole crossed his arms, gesturing up with his fingers.

“Okay, so maybe twelve. But no later than that! Stop making assumptions about me!”

Cole snorted. “Whatever makes you happy, dude.”

“Hey, before you continue to joke about my weird habits, can we discuss the fact that you’re a ghost and you still eat McDonald’s?”

“Hey, just because I don’t need food doesn’t mean it doesn’t taste good. And I’m also doing it as moral support for you.”

“Har har.”

“Jay, I’m serious!” Cole’s teasing expression suddenly grew somber. “What happened to you back there? I haven’t seen you like that since- well, ever. You really scared me, Jay.”

Jay ducked his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, that just makes this worse! I’m not reprimanding you for anything, I’m just worried and want to help you. I’m your best friend, Jay. You can tell me anything.”

Jay wrung his hands together. “I’m not so sure I can, Cole.” His friend opened his mouth to protest, but Jay held up his hand, stopping him. “Oh, I know you want me to. But it’s not that simple.” Softer, he added, “It’s more complicated than you will ever know.”

“Maybe, but sometimes sharing your burdens with someone helps a lot more than you think it will.”

Jay bit his lip. He couldn’t tell Cole about Nadakhan. He couldn’t. Part of him wanted to, but… he didn’t want to relive those memories again. He wanted to leave them as far in the past as they could possibly get.

Besides, there was no way he could know. His memories of the event, like everyone else’s, had been stripped when Jay had made his last wish. Jay could recount the story to him, but it would always be just that- a story. He didn’t doubt that Cole would believe him, but it wouldn’t be the same. Cole still wouldn’t have actually experienced Nadakhan- felt the creeping dread when the accursed djinn caught you alone, the aching in his bones from the long hours aboard the Misfortune’s Keep, or the numbing horror of watching Nya die in his arms.

But Cole was right. This time had been bad. And even though Nya was the only one who truly understood, it wasn’t fair to burden her with all that. He needed help, and Cole was offering it.

“I had a nightmare,” he sighed.

“Again?” Cole frowned, concern flashing in his eyes. “That seems to be happening a lot recently.”

“You knew it happened before?”

“I’m a ghost, not exactly a heavy sleeper. There’s a reason I found you tonight, y’know. I didn’t just decide to wander into the bathroom in the middle of the night because I felt like it.”

“Oh. You didn’t… you didn’t say anything? You didn’t tell the others?”

Cole shook his head. “I thought it wasn’t a big deal. I mean, nightmares aren’t exactly a rare occurrence with our group, and it wasn’t exactly that long ago since Morro. Kai was having nightmares for months afterwards, and if I’m being honest, I think he still is. I myself have been having some… interesting dreams. It didn’t seem that improbable for you to be having them, too. But this…” Cole’s eyes flashed. “I hardly recognized you, Jay. I know you said you didn’t take your meds, but that was no ordinary nightmare.”

“No,” Jay shifted. “I just… I was alone,” he blurted. “It was so dark, and none of you guys were there, and Nya- Nya was…” He stopped, choking on a sob. His heart was racing. “It was all my fault-”

“Hey,” Cole murmured, getting up and sliding in behind him, wrapping a hand around his shoulders. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

“It’s fine.” Jay wiped at his eyes. “I’ve already caused you so much trouble, bringing you out all this way so early in the morning-”

“Hey, I won’t have any of that.” Cole turned Jay’s shoulder so that they were looking each other in the eyes. “I’m your best friend, Jay. That’s what I’m here for. You’ve always been there for me, no matter how inconvenient. I’m just returning the favor.”

But I lied to you. I let my own selfish desires get in the way of everyone’s safety, and I was a disloyal friend. Jay bit back the response. Cole didn’t know about any of that. In his mind, it had never happened.

But for Jay, it had, and he wasn’t about to forget it.

He wasn’t good enough for Cole.

“Ugh, what are these, they’re all crispy.”

It took Jay a moment to register that Cole had spoken, and he swiveled his head towards his friend. “What?”

“Your fries.” Cole held up a fry. “They’re overcooked.”

“That’s the best way to have them,” Jay insisted, grabbing one and crunching it loudly between his teeth. “What, you like yours all soft and mushy?”

“They’re not mushy, they’re rich and fluffy. You’re just eating burnt potato skin.”

“The crunch is part of the experience! It gives them the extra little flair they need.”

“If you want crunchy, why don’t you get chips instead?”

“Are you kidding? This is completely different!”

“Okay, then what about these?” Cole leaned forward, tilting up the carton so that the last handful of fries slid out onto the napkin. They were a dark, brownish-black color, with only hints of gold peeking through. “Tell me how delicious those are.”

Jay winced. “Okay, well, there’s a fine line between a good, crispy fry and a burnt one. What did they do, set them on fire?”

Cole shook his head, grinning. “Did you see how dead-on-her-feet that cashier looked? It wouldn’t surprise me if the kitchen staff looked similar.”

Jay snorted. “I hope not, or this place will be burnt down before the end of the week.”

“We should’ve gone deeper into the city. The night shift workers there would’ve been more capable.”

“We should get a refund on these.”

“Well, you’ll be the one asking.”

“Why?”

“I’m a ghost, moron- did you see the way she looked at me earlier?”

“Yeah, well, we’re also famous ninja. How do you know that wasn’t why she was staring at you?”

“Trust me, it’s always the ghost thing. It’s way more noticeable. Besides, they didn’t look at you, and you’re just as much one of the ninja as I am.”

Jay shrugged, glancing down at himself- he was wearing his worn blue pajamas with the lightning bolts on them, with only an old sweatshirt pulled over his shoulders. He could feel how messy his auburn curls were and knew that the dark circles he had seen under his eyes every time he looked in the mirror over the last few days hadn’t gone away. “I don’t exactly look like myself.”

Cole’s smile faltered slightly, and he squeezed his shoulder tighter. “Jay-”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Pushing away from Cole, he stood up. “Can we go home now?”

Cole gazed at him sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad, I’m just tired. I don’t want to be here anymore. Besides,” he added in a whisper, “we’re starting to get some weird looks from the staff.”

Cole subtly glanced over his shoulder, smirking as he caught sight of the cashier and another staff member who had come out front, murmuring to each other as they stared at Cole and Jay.

“Okay,” Cole breathed, “Let’s go. I suppose we’ve been here a while, anyway.”

The car ride back was quiet, with no other cars on the road to be seen. Even with the slight uneasiness between him and Cole, Jay was feeling a lot better than he had before they had left the Bounty. He still swore he could catch glimpses of red when he glanced down at his hands, but at least he had been able to rid the image of Nya’s lifeless eyes from his mind.

Cole always knew what to do to make things better.

Suddenly, his friend pulled over into a small, empty parking lot. Jay glanced at him questioningly. They were nowhere near the Bounty. “What are you doing?”

“Wait here.” Cole got out of the car and darted towards the small building that the parking lot belonged to. Upon a closer look, Jay realized it was the milkshake shack he had been asking Cole about earlier. A few minutes later, Cole emerged again, jogging towards the car with two cups in hand.

Jay cocked his head at him. “I thought you said they would be closed.”

“They are. But I was able to negotiate.” The earth ninja shot him a wink, and Jay didn’t even want to begin to think about what that meant.

“Did you get-”

Cole shoved a cup into his hands. “Strawberry, yeah. You psychopath.”

“It’s the best kind!”

Cole scoffed, holding up his drink. “Beats chocolate? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

Jay laughed- a real, genuine laugh. It felt good. He couldn’t remember the last time he had done that- probably not since before Nadakhan.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Cole smiling. Jay realized that this had been part of his plan, to get them bickering again so that Jay would be distracted from his nightmare. Deep down, he knew Cole wanted him to talk about it, but when he had decided against that, Cole had accepted it and adapted accordingly.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, Jay felt like he wanted to cry. What did I do to deserve a friend like Cole?

Jay’s life may have had its struggles, but one thing he had gotten really lucky in was the friend department.

The rest of the car ride was much less quiet, instead filled with teasing banter between him and Cole, and Jay felt better than he had in weeks.

By the time they made it back to the Bounty, it was a little past five in the morning. Jay rubbed at his eyes. He was tired, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to go back to sleep. Cole’s distractions had helped a lot, and he was scared of closing his eyes again and finding the memories flooding back.

Cole seemed to pick up on his train of thought. “Are you gonna be okay? Do you want to try going back to bed, or do you want to do something else?”

Jay eyed him uneasily. “But you-”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’ll have all the time in the world to sleep later. This is about you. Wanna play Fist to Face?”

Jay shook his head. “I don’t have the energy for video games right now. Should I try going to sleep?”

“If you’re comfortable with it, yeah.” Cole shot him a sympathetic glance. “You look exhausted.”

“Yeah, okay.” Jay fiddled with his thumbs. “I’m scared to sleep, though.”

Cole smiled sadly at him. “Let me make you some hot chocolate, and then I’ll stay with you for tonight. Would that help?”

“Cole, you don’t have to do this.”

“No, but I want to. That’s what friends are for, sparky. You’d do the same for me in a heartbeat.”

“Thanks, Cole.”

A shuffling of footsteps interrupted them. “You guys okay?”

Jay turned, sucking in his breath.

She was here. She was safe and sound and alive. Although she looked drowsy and was sporting similar eye bags as Jay, there was the familiar spark in her eye and the gracefulness of her movements that was such a stark contrast to the limp body he had seen in his dream that he wanted to cry.

Cole started. “Nya! Sorry, did we wake you?”

She shook her head. “I was already awake. Couldn’t sleep. I didn’t know you left.”

“We just took a little outing,” Cole said. “We couldn’t get to sleep, either.”

Nya’s gaze melted as it turned on Jay. Her eyes showed everything words couldn’t- all the pain, the exhaustion, the sympathy, and the understanding. It was all a little too much for Jay, and suddenly, he was launching himself into her arms. She returned his embrace just as fiercely, clenching and unclenching the fabric of his shirt in her fists.

“I’ll be back,” Cole murmured, leaving them alone.

For a while, they just stood there, holding each other. Jay took a deep breath, inhaling the faint scent of cinnamon and grease that always seemed to linger in her clothes.

“How bad was it this time?”

Jay was silent for a moment. “Bad. Really bad. But Cole helped me. I’m better now.”

“Did you tell him? About… what happened?”

“No, but he knows something’s up. He’s not prying, but I think he’s getting pretty worried about me.”

“I’m getting worried about you, too. You can always come and talk to me, y’know.”

“I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“I wouldn’t have minded.” She reached her hand up to his face and tucked his hair behind his ear. Jay bit his lip as tears started streaming silently down his face. Nya’s deep brown eyes softened, and she leaned forward on her toes, pressing her lips against his. They leaned together, and Jay felt his tears mingling with hers.

Jay didn’t know how long they stood there, but eventually they were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Jay pulled back from Nya, turning to see Cole, two mugs of hot chocolate in hand. His cheeks were flushed at having caught them kissing, but his expression quickly faded to a frown when he caught sight of their tear-stained cheeks.

“Guys, what’s going on? Is there something you two aren’t telling me?”

Jay and Nya exchanged a glance.

“Cole…” Nya walked up to him and took the mug from his hand, placing her other hand over his. “Jay and I are still trying to work some things out right now. I promise you’ll be the first one we tell, when we’re ready. But until then, you have to be patient with us.”

Jay took the other mug from him, taking a long sip from it, and Cole watched him carefully. “Okay, I can do that. I just want to help you, though. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Jay and Nya looked at each other. Nya gave him a small smile, and they intertwined their fingers.

“We will be.”

#ninjago #ninbingo #my fic #rosie writes #ninjago jay #ninjago cole #ninjago nya #yet another case of the ninja not having appropriate reactions to their trauma so rosie ✨angstifies✨ it #skybound was DARK okay? #ofc jay's going to freak out a little bit #luckily he's got cole to help #jay's nightmare does get pretty intense tho... #tw: nightmares #tw: blood #tw: mild gore #thanks for reading! #reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!

[redrosesartcabin]

Kenji x first perspective female reader:

Things happened

—————————————————

(Hey, how is it going peeps! This was requested by @xxno-0xx . I hope you all, and especially the requester, like it. Only one warning: It involves some swearing, so if you don’t like that don’t read. If the requester doesn’t like it, please tell me and I’ll edit the story! Also: The story plays somewhere either between season 2 and 3, or somewhere around season 3. Though not in a canonical episode)

It’s crazy how things sometimes happen.

A very vague description, I know, but it’s the only way I can convey how I feel.

Things happened that made me have the opportunity to go to Jurassic Worlds Camp Cretaceous.

We had won the league as the best female Baseball team, with the price being -besides the typical golden trophy and some media glory- a trip to Camp Cretaceous for one of us. And as the team leader, I was chosen as the one who can go.

“Oh no it’s fine!”, I had said. I already had a funny feeling about the trip. But they all had insisted, “it’s fine”, they had said, “it’ll be cool” they said.

Oh and weren’t they just so right. I am super peachy.

Practically prancing through the jungle and killing Dinos with my little finger-

Ok that’s enough, I think y’all got the gist: The shit had hit the fan.

Things happened, that made everyone be gone, and suddenly it was up to us to survive on this pretend Prehistoric nightmare.

At least my beloved baseball bat had survived the fall of the Camp Cretaceous building. After that discovery I didn’t let go of it anymore. I took it everywhere with me, hitting every living being that even dared to breath in my new found friends direction.

Friends… I had never thought, before the evacuation of Jurassic World and all that crazy stuff happened, that I’d ever call any of them that. I hadn’t really found any of them to be friendship material. I love baseball and building things out of wood in my free time and had a dry, sarcastic sense of humor. The only person in the group who had come close to that was Yaz, but she had been so closed off, that I couldn’t really tell before we became a group that fought for their survival. Darius also had been ok, but I was older than him and we didn’t have anything in common, so that checked itself out. Everyone else sort of annoyed me in one way or another. Especially Kenji’s pompous ass. He had appeared very full of himself and just generally narcissistic, or at least painfully self centered and pretentious.

Now imagine how surprised one might be, when one figured I was crushing on the guy.

Let’s just say, that things happened that made me see Kenji in a completely different light.

Turns out he has a good enough sense of humor to catch my drift when I speak “in sarcastic” as he likes to call it. Turns out, he was a loyal and fun friend. Turns out he was just a lonely soul, neglected by a father whose work is more important to him than his own son.

Everything turned out different than it appears about him. He still sometimes annoyed me with his pranks and especially when he wouldn’t shut up about his wealth. The latter however became very apparent as the means to show that he was someone, although he didn’t need to prove that anymore. But of course he would think that’s how people would like him, his father had taught him no better.

The first thing I mentioned somehow makes me love him even more. It annoys me, gets such a rise out of me, that it’s somehow funny again. It gives me a spark and Kenji seemingly seems to enjoy seeing that spark. And him enjoying that spark makes me somehow happy as well. It would start with a cat fight and ended in rigorous laughter.

“Why so serious?”, he would sometimes ask when I’d respond with a glare towards him when he’d steal my bat for what felt like the fifty millionth time.

“You’re getting so creative. I barely saw it coming”, I answered dryly and one could practically see the words alternating between being written in small and big letters.

“Well then you should have no problem finding your sweet baby bat then”, he cooed. Looking deep into his dark brown eyes and almost devilish handsome grin made me both want to punch and kiss him, which may have made me irritable and even madder.

“Finding? Why should I find anything if I have a living and breathing treasure map. Come here!”, I demanded with a creepily sweet grin as I’d walk towards him. Then he’d run, I’d run, we wrestled for a second on the ground only to break into a laughing fit, rolling on the floor, crying tears, resolving this nonsense prank and then getting back to either relaxing or fighting off Dinosaurs… again.

I didn’t think, however, that anything could happen between Kenji and me.

For many a reason, though only two are essential: For one, we were busy surviving, one barely had time to get downtime with the group, yet alone for themselves. Secondly, I didn’t really know, or couldn’t really tell, if he felt the same. Maybe it was my own insecurities coming to light or something, but I just couldn’t really believe it.

Seemed unlikely.

But then things happened.

Kenji and I were on the run from an especially nasty, big Dinosaur. We had been collecting some water in big canisters and wanted to head back to camp when it sneak attacked, unexpectedly.

It snared at us, opening its huge mouth, showing a row of thin, long, sharp teeth.

“Fuck off, you tooth pick mouthed asshole!”, I hissed back at it, flailing my bat at it in panic.

The reason for my irrational action was mainly, that we were stuck between two huge rocks, backed up against another rock with no way out.

Maybe hills or mini-mountain were a better description, but it’s also not important.

All that I could think of was that we were stuck and that little fucker wanted to eat us.

“Calm down, y/n, this isn’t making anything better!”, Kenji tried to reason with me. I was close to shouting some obscenities at him or a dry ‘got a better idea, genius!?’, but this time his dark brown eyes, that often had a mischievous twinkle, calmed me, instead of creating the usual spark. I crawled closer to him as we were pressed to the stone wall.

The Dino however wouldn’t give up. Vehemently, it pressed its ugly snout between the walls, stretching its uncomfortably wet tongue towards us and exhaling a nauseating breath.

I was paralyzed, as I looked at that thing, not knowing what would happen next.

Suddenly, I felt my bat being taken out of my hand. I watched as Kenji took on a fighter stance, the bat positioned over his head, ready for the hit.

“What are you doing! Didn’t you just tell me that we should calm it?”, I asked. He turned around, a frown adorned his face, “I said you should calm down”, is all he answered before he darted towards the animal.

“NO!”, I heard myself scream. I had never heard such a sound come from my throat. It was shrill, loud and all in all I couldn’t recognize myself. I was terrified, even more than when I first caught sight of this beast that had brought us into this situation.

Everything seemed to pass by in slow motion as I saw Kenji swing the bat towards its snout. At first I thought it was over for him as the Dinos mouth opened, the teeth seeming to scrape Kenji’s head, that’s how close it was to him… but then I saw Kenji swinging the bat again, directly hitting its head so that it flew against the stone wall. The beast wailed in pain, seemingly backing up, and just like that, it was gone.

“I… I made it”, Kenji first whispered, before he laughed, repeating, “I made it!”, even louder, jumping into the air and forming a victory fistbump in the air.

“That was awesome! Did you see how- Y/N?”, Kenji’s joy subsided as he looked into my angered expression. With a swift motion I took my bat back, glaring at him as I pressed out, between gritted teeth “let’s just go, hero”

Kenji seemed to have caught the sarcastic undertone of me calling him a hero, because I could physically feel his mood shift closer to mine, “hey what’s with that attitude? I just saved our lives!”

“By doing what I also wanted to do. Great!”

“You were panicking! I don’t know if you would’ve gotten a good hit by panicking. Besides, I couldn’t risk you getting hurt!”, he explained.

For a second I could feel my heart flutter, but that didn’t help my opinion on what just happened.

“But you were ready to risk yourself?”, I asked, my tone bitter.

“Why are you so mad?”, he asked, “we are safe, what more could you want?”,

“I-“, I stopped in my tracks, thinking. Yeah: What was I so mad about? He was right, I had panicked. Panic never helps with concentration and right decision making. I found it impressive, that he had the courage and the focus to fight the Dino off. But I just couldn’t fight off the thought of it going wrong. What if he would’ve been eaten?

“What-“, I wanted to repeat what I had been thinking, but could feel a hiccup, breaking the tear flood inside me. No- I was not going to cry. I took a deep breath, looking directly into his confused visage, “- what if it would’ve gone wrong, I’m just… I- I wouldn’t have known what to do without you. I can’t imagine being without you anymore”.

I saw and heard him gasp, his glance unfreezing from his confused state.

“I didn’t realize I was that important to you”, he answered.

I chuckled, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes, “everyone is important to me from the group, I wouldn’t have liked any of them to risk their lives for me but- but especially not you. I- I can’t believe I’m going to say this - I had vowed to take this to my grave ya know-“

“- Get to the point”, Kenji urged me.( I wasn’t looking at him, but he later told me he had smiled whilst saying it, I however thought he was getting annoyed and was almost too scared to continue. Stupid how that sometimes works)

“- I, eh- I’m in love with you I think. Or at least I definitely feel very strongly for you”, I confessed, “there! Now you have something to use against me. Finally got something you can laugh at again on this miserable Isla-mpf”, my self deprecating monologue was interrupted by soft lips catching mine. It almost took my breath away, but then I leaned in, still not believing this was happening, though it definitely was.

“I’m not going to laugh, I love you too. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk everything if I didn’t”

“That’s cheesy, but I appreciate the honesty”, I said, wearing my usual shit eating grin as I regained confidence back.

“Oh look who's talking now”

“Oh shut it!”, I laughed and just like that, I found myself kissing him again.

“And here I thought I had to worry, but you two just ran away to make out”, I suddenly heard Darius in the background, half serious, half amused by the moment he found us in.

I quickly broke away from Kenji, grinning sheepishly, “You know how it is Darius: You get chased by a Dino, and then you need a kiss to make the boo boo go away… just so happens I got a bit of a chap on my lips, and Kenji wanted to make it real good again”, I explained, earning a silent chuckle from Kenji.

Darius rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back a smile either, “let’s get you love birds home”

————————

And so things happened. Did we have much time to enjoy us being a couple? Not really.

Did more things happen, making everything crazier and tougher?

Did the rift between Darius and Kenji make me anxious as I was sitting by Kenji’s side, as he, with an expression that was too serious for my liking, drove the yacht?

Absolutely.

But I know, that at least he’s by my side still, as am I, and we will make things happen so that we can finally be free from this place.

Hopefully, we’ll make it.

Depends on what the Dino on the yacht has to say about it...

#request #kenji kon x reader #kenji x reader #kenji camp cretaceous x reader #kenji kon #kenji #fanfiction #jw cc #jw cc season 3 #jw cc spoilers #camp cretaceous spoilers #camp cretaceous

[helena-thessaloniki]

Eren, and that f*cking white bird

Okaaaaay so, here’s an absolutely nonsensical, self-indulgent crack fic alternate scene for you all. Inspired by this comment from Slutty Pennywise @a-slut-for-smut​ that made me scream, fall out of my chair, and laugh for five! minutes! straight.

Babes, you’re a genius and despite what you say, I think you’d make an excellent writer. This comment is proof of it. Hope you enjoy this nonsense. 🖤

Lord, please forgive me. Eremika sympathizers, do not read this. Rated T. Unedited. Content Warning: description of thoughts on animal abuse/cruelty and foul language. Without further ado:

Levi lifts his chin, ignoring the hammering of his pulse, the desperate need to take a deeper breath.  “You don’t like it.”

Her lids flutter, surprised, but then Levi watches the defensive arching of her taut shoulders, the half-curl of her free hand forming into a fist. The hand holding the necklace grips tighter, her knuckles turning white. 

“That’s not it,” Mikasa says carefully, chewing her bottom lip. Her tepidness is dissolved by the time she releases it. “I love it, Levi. It’s perfect. Growing up, I… I imagined a house— a home— like this one. And by the end of the war, after everything we went through; a place like this, this freedom, this peace… it’s all I wanted.”

He can tell she means every word that she says, the same as he can tell there’s still more she is reluctant to say. Mikasa takes in the vaulted pine ceilings, the grand open floor plan, the oil-painting worthy view of the coast from the front windows. It’s not that she’s been unseeing, Levi realizes. It’s that she’s seeing something he cannot. Like she’s seeing ghosts. 

Mikasa turns back to him, openly distraught. “It’s everything I’ve wanted, but it’s… it’s not—...” 

Her words are wrecked with grief. Her watery, washed-out gray irises are drenched with it. A grief viscously different but no less despondent than others he’s witnessed from her. 

It’s not… 

Waiting for the rest of her words is like standing next in line at the gallows. Levi waits, the quicksand no longer just beneath his feet, but filling into all four chambers of his heart. 

Mikasa tries and fails to finish the sentiment. She looks everywhere around the room, at her boxes, at the enormous front windows, at the fireplace in the adjacent living room, at the staircase leading to the upstairs rooms, but not to him. She looks everywhere except to him. 

There’s only silence between them, a horrible, throbbing sort of silence. It stretches on, tense and endless, until a seagull cries in the distance. A sharp, abrasive shriek that instantly spikes Levi’s agitation. 

Retired or not, soldiers’ instincts kick in. Both Levi and Mikasa turn toward the avian cry, intently focused on the interruption. The window they search appears empty at first, but the second Levi blinks, planning to turn away from it, the gull comes into view. 

No ordinary gull, the bird is a large, white creature, its plume of feathers spread out so majestically, Levi has to blink twice to be sure he’s seeing it right. The bird all but floats down onto the windowsill, it’s tail feathers arched toward them to bow down. 

What a pompous, stupid-ass little fucker bird, Levi thinks first. 

But when he glances at Mikasa, her distraught eyes widened by recognition, another thought registers. Eren. 

A cold, heavy reality settles over Levi. When the understanding comes to him, it's the noose tightened around his neck. It isn’t ghosts that Mikasa is seeing; it’s a Ghost. 

It’s not who she wanted, Levi suddenly understands. That’s what she meant to say: It’s everything I wanted, but it’s not who I wanted it to be with.

Levi glares at the pompous, stupid-ass little fucker bird, and the pompous, stupid-ass little fucker bird glares right back. It’s black, beady eyes are eerily reminiscent of a flash of green during youthful cries for vengeance. Eren’s ghost lingers beneath those white plumes. And Levi knows, in that moment, Mikasa isn’t the only one being haunted. 

He stands there, stone-still, not at a desperate loss, but with a dismal certainty. Even from the grave, Eren has managed to cockblock him. 

The gull cries out again, a shrill, stomach-curdling wail, and Levi can almost hear it’s demands. For Titans to be destroyed, all of them wiped out from their world. I’ll kill all of them, the bird shrieks. Every last one of them!

If only the loud-mouthed brat had been half as passionate about the woman who loved him. 

Levi can’t help but wonder. Can he roundhouse kick the little fucker bird off the windowsill just like he did to Jaeger in the courtroom? While he fantasizes, Mikasa sighs, forcing her teary-eyed gaze from the white bird. 

She looks as though she’s about to speak, but before she does, Levi interrupts. 

“Alright,” he says, carefully if not coldly. “I see.” 

Mikasa’s owlish blink is more than just weary, but he doesn’t have the ability to focus on it. 

Levi looks at her like she’s a collapsing house of cards. A deck he shuffled and a hand he dealt to himself. The precarious arrangement made possible by his stubborn refusal to acknowledge its inevitable outcome: they were built to fold inward and fall apart.

“See what?” Her confusion is laced with an edge of warning, a question as much as a threat. 

Levi plans to ignore her warning. The harsh words are about to fly out, but then the seagull cries, once, twice, thrice. It wails, repeatedly, and every muscle in Levi’s body twitches with the impulsive need to launch forward and snap the little fucker bird’s neck.

“What the fu…,” Mikasa mutters, shock quickly turning into agitation. “What is wrong with that thing?”

Levi huffs. “Tch.”

What wasn’t wrong with Eren? He’s about to answer, a bitter retort on the tip of his tongue, when the little fucker bird cranes its neck all the way to the side, appraising him. Levi narrows his eyes, bracing himself for whatever it does next. His battle-scarred hands clench into fists, itching to get a hold of the avian cockblocker. 

Mikasa takes a hesitant step toward it. “Maybe it’s hurt?”

“Maybe it’s stupi--” 

The gull launches itself face first into the window, its frantic beak darting against the glass pane with wild impatience. Despite connecting with the glass, it continues to throw itself forward, squalling again. Its cries become so viciously, obnoxiously loud, Levi has to push his fists into his side to stop from covering his ears. 

“I’m going to throttle it,” he announces, projecting over the whining gull.  

Mikasa takes a hurried step forward. “No, no, you can’t.”

“Why not?” Levi throws another lethal glare at the bird, unwilling to sympathize with it. “The little fucker is just going to kill itself first.”

Mikasa tries to approach the bird on the window, but it's cries become more despondent, it’s thrashing more haphazard. The white bird squalls so loudly at her nearing approach, she has to jump back. 

“Walls,” Mikasa swears, frowning. “Well..., maybe we should put it out of its misery.”

Levi almost sighs aloud in relief. “Yes, we should.” 

The words are barely out of his mouth before she’s brandishing a knife, pulling the weapon out from God-knows-where with God-like speed. 

She is Godlike. Strong and perfect, beautiful and fierce. Her dark hair falls in messy, sensual waves, her clothes still half-wet from her recent swim. They cling onto her figure, displaying every curve, and he’s reminded of what’s beneath them. How she feels when his hands take violent hold of her, how she arches while he glides his tongue up, over, and in her. The glint of steel flashes at her side, an expert hold on the knife between her anything-but-delicate hands, hands that have pushed through his hair, roamed over his chest, took confident hold of his coc—

“Levi,” she says, amused. 

He looks up to her face, surprised at the dark glimmer of mischief and lust in her eyes. Only a moment before, she’d been upset. 

“What?” he asks. Realizing how hoarse he sounds, he subtly clears his throat. 

She gestures to his waist, with a feline grin and mewl of breathless laughter that tells him exactly what he’ll find before he even looks down to check.

Watching Mikasa Ackerman pull a knife out on the bird in Eren’s image has given him a hard-on.

“Hmm. This turns you on,” Mikasa acknowledges slowly, smiling wickedly. 

Levi is shameless. He reaches down to readjust himself better in his pants, unblinking while he meets her gaze. “Yes. Yes, it does.”

She tightens her hold on the knife, lips parting, and drops her focus onto his hand’s familiar hold on the bulge beneath his pants. She’d rather be holding him.

“Oh,” she breathes. If the gull is still shrieking, neither of them hear it. “Well then. What do you want me to do about it?” 

Mikasa lifts the knife, twirling it deliberately with one hand, and waits for his reply. 

Levi decides not to remove his hand now that he’s finished readjusting. Instead, he grips himself harder. 

“I want,” Levi starts, low and guttural, “... I want you to kill that pompous, stupid-ass little fucker bird.”

Mikasa hums briefly, a moan of approval, and bites down onto her bottom lip. “Gladly.” 

#think i'm going to hell #beyond the walls fic #rivamika beyond the walls #crack fanfic #fandom friends are the best friends #rivamika #rivamika fanfic #rivamika fanfiction #lena writes

[willadisastercry]

When the dust clears and you almost wish it hadn’t...

tw: emetophobia warning (brief but there), depictions of being trapped/pinned, broken bone, head injury, blood, threat of being crushed, threat of drowning.

The paladins respond to a distress signal on a foreign planet and make quick work of getting its civilians to safety, but on their last sweep surface side, shit hits the fan. Pidge and Lance are hurt but Shiro is trapped and can’t help them. On top of that, the conditions they’re stuck in are only getting worse. With no access to the coms and no tools to help them, the trio is forced to get creative and make some sacrifices.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Dust rained down in a continuous sheet, the tiny particles lit up in beams where the brightness of the day outside peaked through the mottled roof of debris now sheltering them. It seeped through their shattered visors and cacked their lungs making whatever ragged breaths they took after they realized they’d finally stopped falling harsh and desperate.

Shiro was the only one who hadn’t been knocked out after the initial collapse, more just dazed in momentary shock from the suddenness of it all, his visor most in tact and his com emitting static output that would catch a few garbled words every now and then.

The planet they were on had sent out a distress signal when the galra outpost stationed in their solar system had somehow managed to pull their moons out of alignment, and like on earth, their moons had significant influence over their tides.

Before they arrived, the land had only been hit by minor floods but as soon as voltron and the castleship entered their atmosphere, the unruly currents ramped up tenfold and small tremors could be felt from somewhere deep underground.

The abnormal weather phenomena hadn’t yet delved into anything seismic, just tidal, but they’d only been planet-side for ten minutes before alarms started blaring and the locals emerged from their homes frantic and scared.

Evacuation via lion had actually gone relatively smoothly, the paladins able to relocate the citizens before the trembles of the shifting plates became truly dangerous.

It had started off pretty tame, the rumblings far between and only enough to shake the windows and trees. But they steadily amplified the longer the evacuation went on until shaking became shuddering and soon trees were swaying and buildings were groaning.

After everyone was loaded onto the castle outside of the planets orbit Pidge flew the green lion flew back down to the surface stowing Lance and a lionless Shiro. They were in charge of carrying out the final sweep to check for stragglers, though the only thing they’d actually found was themselves caught in the height of a particularly large quake.

They were in the city center attempting to make it back to Green who was stationed at the beginning of the tree line on the outskirts of the city, antsy and waiting. But they would never get there because the intense trembling brought them to the knees before they’d even caught sight of the lion.

It would’ve been alright if the solid ground they thought they were on was truly as solid as it appeared, but it wasn’t, because the cracks splitting the pavilion open splintered towards them before they could even cry out and then the last thing they could hear was a roar almost as deafening as the sound of the planet ripping apart beneath their feet.

The fall wasn’t long or else they wouldn’t be alive to choke on the sheer amount of crap in the air, their helmets not surviving the broken bits of sediment that accosted them on the decent, cracking their visors and damaging their com systems.

Though cumbersome and clunky, their paladin armor was also sturdy and could withstand the weight of the rubble they were more or less sandwiched in. Their suits were ultimately what saved their lives in the initial collapse but it beat their human bodies to hell in the process.

Their senses returned with the panic of not being able to breathe, the moment they realized the ground beneath them was rough with rubble and uneven uprooted earth that wasn’t quite earth audible, marked by disoriented cries of surprise at the debris still falling while the quake that brought them down tapered out.

Pidge and Shiro came back to themselves first, raucous coughs pulling each other to reality over their ringing ears as they worked to clear the soot from their mouths and lungs. It was hard work. The air was dense with all kinds of minuscule specks of ruin that silenced them for a good minute while they struggled against the dryness in their throats.

It was Pidge who tried to move first. She was slumped over a chunk of what used to be a stone pillar from the building that was sucked into the chasm of non-earth along with them, her legs tucked awkwardly beneath her. She stopped abruptly to let out a strangled wail when she went to push herself up.

She hadn’t felt much of anything when she first woke up, just incredibly dazed as she fought to open her eyes under the layer of dust encrusting them. But when she put pressure on her arms she discovered that something was seriously wrong with one of them, collapsing back onto the jagged piece of stone to writhe as pain shot through to her shoulder and seized her back.

“Pidge?”

She barely registered the crackle of a low voice from somewhere nearby, her mind entirely consumed by panicking over the pain she was in as well as the unknown regarding the extent of the injury.

“Pidge is that you? Are you okay?”

It clicked then that it was Shiro speaking but she didn’t have air in her lungs to produce any answer other than a panicked whimper, too afraid to lift herself off of the injured limb to see the damage and incite another wave of agony. She didn’t have enough air to handle that again, sucking down what she could in too large of quantities for such a limited supply.

Shiro was going through a similar mental battle, though the first thing dawning on him as he registered his new surroundings was that Pidge needed help, not his own physical wellbeing. So naturally, he’d tried to get up as soon as he heard her call out only to discover he couldn’t move much because he was sprawled on his back amongst an ever growing pile of debris, his prosthetic arm likely crushed to shit under a sizable slab of stone with smaller chunks pressing against his chest and legs.

He was sufficiently stuck, pinned in place and unable to get to her but forced to listen as her anguished sounds continued.

“Pidge I’m trapped, I can’t—shit, I can’t get to you. And I don’t have visual confirmation from Lance yet so you’re gonna have to work with me here... talk to me, where are you hurt? How bad does it look?”

The sound she contrived then was like the ones before, except not for her own misery, not entirely at least. Because that meant there was still no sign of life from Lance which meant there was a very real concern that there wouldn’t be which left Pidge having to pull herself together and search for him since Shiro was otherwise incapacitated.

This would be sucky and not ideal at all, but necessary.

”Pidge?!”

Logic told her that bones mend and that pain was fleeting. That agony would be temporary, fear too, and once she found Lance it would be better, bearable at least.

And so with that resolve she willed her breathing to slow enough to form a coherent statement.

“It’s my arm,” she huffed quickly, the shrillness in her voice evidence of the severity of the injury.

“Okay, can you move? Is there something on top of you?” Shiro asked calmly, his voice level and sympathetic.

“No, I’m on top of it... if-if I move again—“

“Take a breath, it’s probably broken.”

Clearly, but Pidge was already ten steps ahead, her brain grappling with the notion of whether stabbing pain meant safe compounded fracture or gruesome and bloody and open fracture that would make her sick if she even caught sight of her own arm like that.

She shuddered violently at the thought and bit back a gasp when it jostled whatever lay beneath her.

“You’re okay, just breathe... are you sitting or laying down?”

Still so calm, somehow. So incredibly practical and disarming. It was almost unnerving how well he could do that, compartmentalize everything.

“S-sitting, sort of.”

“How?”

Awkwardly, Shiro. The man might be terrifyingly apt at rationalizing the impossible but seemed utterly incompetent in predicting the obvious.

“Folded over a rock and using it as my pillow... all my weight is on it—on my arm,” she ammended with a gulp.

Shiro took his precious time turning this information over in his head and the radio silence almost had Pidge worrying he’d passed out until his voice came back somehow even more blunt and pragmatic than before.

“That’s better actually. What I need you to do is hold your arm in place with your good hand, press it to your chest and use your shoulder to lean on as you sit back again. It should be less agitating that way—“

Shiro’s gentle instruction was cut off by Pidge’s cry as she sat up and away from the slab of stone like he recommended, her vision whiting as she cradled her arm against herself.

When she could see properly again she found her curiousity too overwhelming and spared a look at the mangled limb.

It was both better and worse than she had imagined. The forearm component of her armor was hanging on in pieces and clearly displayed the horrifying mess that lay under what remained. No skin was broken, but the tip of her bone was very visibly poking the already swelling flesh where the middle of her forearm sported a new joint.

The sight was overwhelming and her breaths soon came in short pants, the threat of passing out suddenly very real.

“Good Pidge, that was great. Take a couple deep breaths for me while you adjust,” he asked gently, his voice taking on a more solemn tone now.

She already knew what was coming next and began rearranging her legs beneath her, several deep breaths required to clear the black dotting her vision before she was confident she could stand testing their strength without them turning jelly.

“I know you’re in a lot of pain right now, but you need to find Lance... I’m not mobile and I haven’t heard him yet.”

“Already... on it,” she panted as she leaned on her knees before coming to a shakey stance.

The lighting was sparse in the pocket of nothing that the pavilion collapsed into after the fissure opened, barely enough to make out the terrain in front of her and then some. So she made her way slowly, toeing rocks and larger slabs before proceeding, checking for stability with every step as she slinked across the unnatural landscape.

“Follow my voice... I can hear you now... watch out for the crap still falling...”

Finding Shiro wasn’t difficult when his voice carried so well through the wreckage, even despite the shifting fauna and bits still crashing down and settling.

There hadn’t been another quake in the time that they’d woken up, but that only made finding Lance that much more important. If he hadn’t responded yet then it was more than likely he was pretty hurt, which would be even more dangerous for him to be alone if the rubble decided to rearrange itself.

“Hey...” Shiro laughed pitifully as she ducked under a slanted piece of stone to get to him.

Pidge saw his predicament immediately, he was looking at her from where he was propped up one elbow, his metal arm wedged underneath a piece of stone bigger than he was.

“Well, that’s not good,” she stated before coming down hard on one knee, clutching her arm extra close as she lowered herself to the floor for a better look.

“Let me see your arm,” he ordered in his leader voice, a futile attempt to deflect from his own issues.

“My arm is snapped, let me see if you still have one,” she countered expertly, pushing away his searching hand after once he’d laid back down try and examine the disfigured appendage now securely in her lap.

He sighed in defeat. Pidge had too many years of experience dodging brotherly coddling with Matt to concede to Shiro’s fretting and let him distract from her own triage efforts.

“How bad? Can’t really tell from this angle...”

“I’m not seeing much but there is quite a bit of space between the floor and the rock still so that’s kind of promising for the integrity of the prosthetic... let me get this crap off though—“

“No, you’re hurt don’t push yourself, it’s fine.”

But Pidge acted as if she hadn’t heard him and began to remove the rocks, turning over the more meager pieces of broken stone from his chest with her good hand.

“Pidge, it’s okay. I’m not hurt and you need to save your energy to look for—“

“Wait! Shut up...”

“Excuse me?!”

“Shhhh!”

Pidge held her hand up to Shiro’s face as she closed her eyes and listened for something. Shiro only heard a faint whooshing and a steady trickle until it happened again. A very guttural but human moan.

“Lance! Shit.”

“Go, he’s gotta be close, he was just beside me when we fell...”

Pidge moved swiftly, more nimble than she could’ve thought possible as she maneuvered around the rubble with only one arm to steady her.

“Lance, call out!”

Every time she moved her arm throbbed horribly, but slowing down was not an option, not when another quake was due and could occur at any moment.

“If you can hear me I need you to make a sound, throw something, anything!”

Her repeated shouts are what in the end got him to groan again, the sound of her pointed words coming closer making the pressure in his skull swell exponentially.

“That’s it, keep making noise...!”

As he tried to wake up and open his eyes he only succeeded in making himself more disoriented, the world seeming to spin even with his eyes squeezed shut.

It dawned on him then that closing his eyes when he had absolutely no idea what sort of life threatening situation he may or may not be in was a sort of really bad idea. He had no clue how he was oriented, no grasp of what was up or down, how his body was positioned, if he was hurt or not. He wasn’t even entirely sure he was alive but the second heart beat on the side of his head seemed to eventually convince him he was.

“Lance?!”

But then again the agony swirling around in his brain didn’t seem to care if it was stupid to close his eyes, nor did the intensity of the light above him that burned his retinas when he attempted to open them.

“Call out!”

Uh, no I will not, thank you very much.

Whoever was screaming in his face needed to learn some manners and stop. The sound pierced his ears like a thousand needles and traveled to the center of the heartbeat in his skull, another pathetic moan escaping his lips as he tried to reach for the spot.

“Oh, no—no, don’t do that.”

He was sprawled on his side, limbs askew and otherwise undamaged aside from his armor appearing nearly shredded in some places with how roughly he’d been tossed around in the fray. His helmet was missing and it took Pidge a few moments to locate it, almost wishing she hadn’t once she did.

The left side was dented, the visor cracked so severely that there was nothing but a few jagged shards left of it.

“You’re okay, I’m here Lance, it’s Pidge.”

Lance didn’t care that it was Pidge, she was screaming at him and it was making him nauseous. He couldn’t understand why she insisted on being so loud when he had such a bad headache or why she held his wrist so tightly.

“You’ve got a pretty nice gash there—” she muttered, her restricting hand releasing him to turn his head to the side “—a nice few gashes, actually.”

He must have made a protesting sound at the movement because she stopped and cupped his cheek instead, using the top of her thumb to wipe the tears making their way to his chin.

“Hey, you’re gonna be alright. Can you open you’re eyes at all?”

“Mmmmm.”

“Can you try? Only for a second, I just need to see something. C’monnnn, don’t you want to see my pretty face?”

He made a softer sound then and his eyelids began to flutter as he tried to pry them open, wincing at how painful even the dim lighting was once he did.

“Good, that’s good. Okay, I’m just gonna help you out here, don’t be scared...” she said as she moved her thumb and pointer finger to prop open one eyelid at a time and keep them still so she could get a good look.

His pupils were blown which was probably why opening them hurt so bad, more light was coming in than should be which couldn’t feel nice for his clearly rattled brain.

“Kay, all done... I think you have a concussion, but nothing else seems to be wrong aside from the still gushing head and facial wounds. Can you keep your hand there do you think? ” she asked as she brought it to where the bleeding was worst and pressed down, illiciting a hiss but no other resistance as he held it place.

“Great, you’re doing so great. I know you probably feel really out of it but we need to get you over to where Shiro is... and my arms kinda busted so I can only give you one hand...”

His groaning halted for a moment to let loose a low whine as he tried to open his eyes long enough to look at what she meant, his face scrunching up with concern when he finally managed to.

“You-your arm... s’hurt...” he choked out, more a restatement than a question, his tongue unwilling and his energy spent as he tried to form something coherent.

“Yeah, as I said, busted. But don’t worry about that now, just give me your hand.”

Lance seemed a bit confused at her command so she took up the hand that was limp at his side and moved it to his lap where she could reposition her own at his elbow.

“This is gonna be a tad tricky so just work with me, okay?”

He grunted a sort of ‘uh huh’ and returned with his own grip on her upper arm.

“I’m gonna stand up and lean back, when I do you’re gonna lean forward and stand with me...” Pidge detailed as she moved his legs so that they were bent towards his chest and in front of him.

It wasn’t that he was immobile. The rest of his body was free of visible injuries but his brain and his limbs seemed to be on different frequencies for the time being, the channels of communication disconnected and not taking signals from one another making his movements sluggish and sloppy.

“Okay, ready? Alright, up we go...”

What happened next was anything other than graceful. As soon as Lance was upright he lilted into Pidge who fixed her stance as he stumbled to keep standing, his grip tight on her arm and his weight almost entirely on her hip as he held his throbbing head.

“You good? Here, arm around my neck, just don’t touch my arm... there ya go. We’ll go slow, it’s not far,” she assured as she began to walk forward, Lance following in his own sort of zigzag next to her.

They made their way excruciatingly slow. Pidge moved with care, constantly analyzing the most doable path to lead Lance into, stepping on top of and over boulder sized bits of stone as he continued on whatever even ground she could find.

It was only when she was tapping her toe behind his knee to get it to buckle that he was aware they’d made it. He hadn’t heard Pidge asking him to sit, didn’t even register her hand on his face as he fought with the terrible heat on the side of his head that threatened to make his stomach act on how unsettled it was.

He let out a breathless ‘oh’ as his butt connected with the ground, a layer of recently upturned dust rising after him. Once he was safely seated Shiro removed his hand from his back from where he’d been assisting the transition.

“Shiroo...!?!” he gushed, the word sloshing in his mouth.

“Hey, Lance.”

Though he knew his friend’s demeanor was the result of a pretty gnarly head injury, Shiro couldn’t help but let a fond smile appear at his almost childlike vocalization.

“How ya feeling?”

“Oh, not good I think, right Pidge?—yeah, really not good...”

“Concussion, I checked,” Pidge provided after Shiro took Lance’s bloody hand away from the source of the bleeding to check the damage out for himself.

“That looks painful,” Shiro sympathized before returning his hand to the spot as gently as he could.

Lance processed that his hand had made contact again about ten seconds after which seemed to send his head realing because the next moment he was choking back a gag.

“Crap, it’s alright if you need to throw up. Just get it out, don’t hold it in,” Shiro ushered, his hand moving to Lance’s arm as he doubled over himself, his throat clenching against the bile rising and he sputtered.

He was sufficiently out of sorts and could hardly hold on to a coherent thought but he knew that he did not want to throw up. Not here in front of his friends, especially Shiro.

But the wave of nausea that was making his stomach cramp and his head throb was overshadowed by the sound of something crashing, like a stack of precariously placed objects falling over abruptly except much louder and followed by a sustained gush.

“Shiro..?”

The trepidation in Pidge’s voice made her sound so much younger, like how she did before Shiro left for Kerberos.

At the same time that fear erupted in his friend’s chests, saliva welled up in Lance’s mouth and he let out a pitiful sound, the new commotion having him seeing stars with how angrily his head pulsed from it.

“It’s probably just rubble settling, can you see anything?”

Pidge moved towards the biggest source of light from where the surface above them split apart, the scene hazy through clouds of dust and substantially obscured by larger breakages of sediment. She lifted herself onto her toes to try and makes sense of the destruction around them.

“No...”

Pidge couldn’t see much through the chalky blackness, just hints of structures here and there.

“There’s nothing there—oh.”

The gushing sound seemed to pull to the forefront of the concerning noises then, like a geyser of something had erupted and was emptying itself out into the chasm that had opened up beneath them and swallowed them down. This was concerning for a lot of reasons.

“Yeah, never mind we are so fucked.”

Lance wasn’t even trying to follow the progression of events going on around him, listening intently enough to make sense of a single sentence worsening the pressure behind his eyes while he stomach continued to flip.

The acid taste coming up his throat was putrid, but mixed with a grating layer of dust irritating the back of his throat, the presence of it while already massively disoriented was overwhelming.

“What is it?-crap Lance. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Shiro soothed, his hand secure on the other boy’s back while his frame shook from retching so hard.

“Pipe must’ve burst, well I guess not a pipe, more like a main...”

“A main? As in a water main?”

“Yes,” Pidge deadpanned, using her good hand to steady herself against a taller shred of stone as she continued evaluating just how fucked they were.

Shiro gulped, convinced he could actually feel the tons of weight on top of his foreign prosthetic growing heavier the longer he remained wedged under it.

“How much is coming in?”

He could hear it clearer now, like the rumble in your ears when wind rushed past them.

“Too much...”

With a hiccoughing whine, Lance pitched forward, nearly collapsing into the puddle of his own sick as he continued to gag.

“Woah, okay! You’re alright, I’ve got you... just do what you have to do bud.”

Shiro’s free hand on the center of Lance’s chest was the only thing keeping him upright as he worked through the rolling waves of dizzying nausea.

Pidge spared a cursory glance towards her friend, watching how his shoulders worked as he heaved for a moment before returning back to her internal spiral.

“Coms are wrecked but they’re out of range so it’s not like that really matters anyway... the air is pretty thin already, but the longer we’re down here the less viable o2 there’s going to be... and the crater we’re in is flooding so the more pressing issue is—”

“Pidge,” Shiro drawled slowly, his tone placating as he watched her pace back and forth, images of Matt doing the same thing surfacing in his mind as she did.

She might resemble her brother in appearance but their personalities for the most part could not be more opposite. Though during his time in the castle of lions Shiro had found that they actually share a lot of the same nervous mannerisms.

He knew Pidge probably had no idea how similar their actions are and he’s sort of glad only he does, suspecting the knowledge would only make her sad.

The only issue with this discovery is the fact that even though her reaction isn’t new to Shiro, dealing with it was, and once Pidge’s mind started working it was hard to get it to stop.

Lance was winding down then. His breaths still heavy and uneven, the stream of blood down his neck and front steady as ever, but he wasn’t gagging anymore.

“You’re arm is... fucked, my arm is fucked, and Lance’s head! Oh god, this is—“

“Calm down, we can figure this out.”

She spun on him abruptly enough that Shiro was scared for a second she might’ve given herself whiplash.

“Calm down?! How do you expect me to do that when we’re going to be underwater in an hour, hell maybe even a couple of minutes?!”

Lance’s shoulders seemed to slump somehow further from the volume of her voice and Shiro took a second before launching into his response to help him sit back on his heels and away from the vomit.

“No, I’m going to be underwater. You and Lance are going to start walking, climbing, whatever it is you have to do to get to higher ground—“

“Yeah okay, fuck that. We’re not leaving you—uh buh bah, save whatever case you were gonna make because I’ll promptly stop listening.”

The visage of Matt retreated entirely with Pidge’s indiscretion, her words seeding with irritation as she shut Shiro down.

“Pidge!”

“I’m so very sorry for my attitude but you really did just pitch us leaving you to drown, are you really that surprised?”

Shiro took a practiced breath, the kind he uses to ground himself because the pit in his chest was expanding and the last thing they needed was him devolving into panic.

He eyed the way Lance swayed as he sat with his legs splayed on either side of him, his hands limp in his lap and coated in blood from the gash on his head.

“You can’t stay here, not when Lance is hurt like this.”

“Okay.”

“Huh? Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. If you want to waste your energy trying to convince me to let you die, then that’s whatever because the reality is that you’re the one stuck under a rock and I’m the only one whose mobile. This is very much my call. Sorry big guy, but we’re sticking around.”

Shiro actually laughed.

He couldn’t ignore the way that his heart filled with admiration at Pidge’s defiance but it was overwhelmed by the burden of the fact that no matter how much pride he had in her for stepping up, he was still trapped and they were still going to watch him die.

He shuddered and Lance hummed at the movement, wondering vaguely if Shiro was hurt at all before the thought disappeared and the only thing he could remember was how insanely painful the knot on the side of his head was and how heavy his aching body felt.

“M’tired... think I’m gonna... mmmh, gonna lay down,” he managed with some concentration and put his hands on the ground to brace himself but didn’t make any further moves, his face scrunching up in confusion as he struggled to figure out how to maneuver himself down when his arms were so difficult to control and his head pulsed blindingly any time he moved.

“You can’t go to sleep yet, dude. Just sit with Shiro for now, I need you to keep an eye on him for me anyway,” Pidge instructed with a grin.

Shiro huffed and narrowed his eyes but it only made her smirk widen.

“W-why? Is Shiro hurt?” Lance asked worriedly, forgetting himself entirely and attempting to twist around to see.

The gravity of the action caught up with him a beat later, the groan that bubbled in his chest ungodly.

“Easy there, hot shot, I’m okay. Just a little stuck,” Shiro assured, stilling him with a firm hand on his shoulder when the surge of pain had him tipping nearly over.

“Kay... s’good,” he noted through clenched teeth before his eyes fluttered shut and his head began to lower to his chest.

A sharp pain from where Shiro flicked the side of his cheek that wasn’t cut up and coated in blood roused Lance from his attempt to rest.

“Ow. Rude.”

“Not rude, necessary. There’s no napping on the job.”

“I’m so tired though... just wanna sleep... you guys are so mean... why can’t I just—“

“Nope. You’ve gotta keep your eyes open for me bud,” Shiro chided, shaking his shoulder gruffly enough to have his bloodshot eyes shooting open.

“But why?” he slurred, the exasperation in his whine sort of heartbreaking, “I could just nap through... the worst of this, it’d be... it’d be so nice... wouldn’t hurt so much...”

“Since when are you all about what’s easy, you’re like the most stubborn human I know?”Shiro asked, his voice full of fondness.

“And you get enough beauty rest as it is, lover boy, you’ll live if you miss a few hours.”

The rushing water filled the ambient silence while Pidge made her way back to her friends from her watch post amongst the rubble.

“Are... we?”

Lance’s voice was a broken whisper, the gravel in it a painful attribution to the stress his throat had been put under between the abuse of the acid in the bile and coarse texture of the dust.

“Are we what, Lance?”

“Live... are we gonna live?”

The gush of moving water rose up in Shiro’s ears like roaring wind again but stronger this time, effectively tunneling his attention on those words, the innocence of them.

“Of course we are—“

“I want it on the record that I, Pidge Gunderson, am making no such promises.”

“PIDGE!”

“So loud... please... shhh...” Lance cried desperately, his hands almost comically slow to rise and cover his ears.

“WHAT?! I’m being honest!”

“You’re being negative!”

“Coming from the guy who just told me to leave him for dead!”

The fire in both paladins eyes was burning so brightly Lance could’ve sworn there was an actual glow with how horribly his head was beginning to hurt from listening to them.

“Alright, I might’ve had a moment of doubt, but we can’t—“

“Stop shaking me Shiro...” Lance whimpered as he drew his knees up to his chest carefully “—it hurts... please quit it...”

This broke the two out of their heated argument.

“I’m not touching you, Lance...”

“Then t-tell whoever is... to fucking stop!”

His chest hitched pitifully when punctuating the last bit with a pleading whine had his head swimming in vengeance. If it weren’t for the stability of hugging his propped up legs so tightly he would’ve fallen over with how dizzy he was.

Pidge looked at Shiro as if he’d know any better than her what the hell he was talking about.

Unfortunately for the both of them, he did not.

“Deep breaths, Lance. You’re probably just disoriented, it’s normal for head injuries to mess with your sense of balance and equilibrium—“

“Shiro...?”

He was beginning to hate hearing his name being called when it was almost always followed by something he really wouldn’t enjoy hearing.

“Yeah, Pidge?”

But she didn’t have to continue because he felt it then.

A steady thrumming from somewhere below.

A rumble.

“Quiznak...”

#vld #voltron fic #voltron whump #voltron #lance voltron #pidge voltron #shiro voltron #lance whump #pidge whump #mission gone wrong #earth quake #lots of angst #lance angst #shiro tries to be noble #pidge bops him #lance is miserable #they’re all really scared #voltron fandom #voltron fanfic #voltron angst #shiro angst