#im just soft for monster falling hard for humans that are so different for them-

[stitchthesewords]

Hey hi hey hey hi I am having an Emotional day so uh. Have an Apocalypse AU idea I had. Full disclosure - I uh. Actually hate stories set within and just beyond apocalypses, which is why my stuff is always set pretty far Past an apocalypse. But. I'm feeling things and I dislike apocalypse stories because of that whole Lone Wolf/Everyone Turns On Each Other mindset so many writers seem to have and this is Not That so - below the cut.

Okay so I'm less interested in how the apocalypse happens here but I'm picturing it being some kind of monster apocalypse. This is definitely gonna be a minecrafty like. low fantasy world like all my ideas so maybe the apocalypse is caused by mobs coming in the night for the first time. The struggle of stuff spawning when it gets dark - and maybe with the added difficulty of the sun not killing things. My own difficulty is figuring out like, doc and Cleo bc i still want them to be a creeper and zombie hybrid but I imagine everyone being human??????? maybe I change that. But I still don't know how to justify like doc existing like Cleo mightve gotten bitten but not become a full zombie for some reason but doc? IDK. then again im now thinking about like maybe mild hybridization okay. So maybe like. avians. Sheep hybrids. Simpler hybrids than what i usually do and everyone else [sans the hybrids] are just Dudes. Okay so

Monsters start appearing one day and it causes, understandably, mass panic in a world where monsters didn't exist beforehand. Before its all said and done, people are fleeing left right and center and no one is really keeping track of anything and a lot of things kind of fall apart. You know, standard monster apocalypse stuff. BUT. here's the thing. I don't think this is a 'government steps in a takes over' and I dont think this is a 'everyone turns on each other and refuses to share supplies' - just the opposite.

And the hermits end up being one such group of people who end up collecting together. They pool their resources and support each other and build a safe place to live - lit up, with walls to keep the new and dangerous mobs out, and houses to keep everyone safe and warm. Support. No man left behind. And it - admittedly - takes them a bit to really get their feet underneath them. Feeding a group their size is difficult and gardening and farming is a brand new idea to a lot of them who had other jobs before the apocalypse [Architects, tailors, scientists, engineers, etc etc]. And they're jobs are important and useful too, but they're got to learn to do stuff like Milk Cows, grow their own food, process that food, process animals - all of it.

And what I'm thinking is like this is both a soft and hard au. Soft in that there's a lot of focus on learning to trust their new family, learning these new skills they need, falling in love amongst themselves, and learning how to accomodate different issues everyone has. And its also a hard AU in that it's learning to fight to defend each other from the mobs and learning to explore safely and learning to protect each other and all that stuff.

But its also like - welcoming strangers who need help who may or may not stay with open arms because they're people and they need help. And yeah, sometimes people have bad intentions and it might bite them in the ass occasionally but this is a group of people who came together to protect each other they aren't just going to leave someone else out to starve or die.

Is this even coherent. Anyway just kind of a lot of thoughts about learning to care for other people and trust and build community both literally and figuratively. Learning to build houses with your hands and repair what you have and learning to farm and process and cook. Rebuilding from the ground up a community in your own image. lkhsfkdlk

@atherix @braxiatel @greatbridge @ellalily @lesbianwilby @em-mermaid @loombarrow @sparksnevadas @aceofthefandoms

#Stitch Talks #Stitch's Writing #Hermitcraft #Apocalypse AU #god #just #glsdfhkhfslhjhgd

[sheviolentlyher]

Friday and the only thing I can think is that god is the infinite nothingness. It’s why people are more content with calling it “the universe “ because it’s something we know has energy and we know exists, with the same thought of something being more powerful than us, igniting the worship.

smoke weed and draw. channel creativity. I can see things no one else sees. That’s how I fall in love with myself over and over again.

Queen of underground- queen of creativity, queen of new world, maker of reality.

I may be manic. I may be just bored. I become manic when bored. But because I realize it — it’s artistic and articulate. Sometimes I let it be destructive- just for fun. I can find excuses for anything really. But what or who deems them excuses? Why not dreams?

there isn’t a single fucking cloud in the sky, and it looks like an upside down ocean.

I’m thinking crazy. Everything that I want wants me, and again I’m worry free and begin attracting. Choice is only an illusion when applied to reality. Choice is a mentality.

the choice is mine. I choose to think- I choose to love.

I am a phantom bride that dances the halls of my mansion mind, perfectly happy she is alone and there is no one there to reject her. What if ghosts are afraid of our rejection? What if energy is afraid of our rejection? What if what is meant for us is afraid of us? It can’t afford our hostility, so it circles us just out of reach—- I don’t really like being relaxed in my void. I can’t do nothing for long, but I’m learning to listen to the silence.

the birds here are absolutely stunning. The loudest I’ve ever experienced— it makes me feel like Snow White and again I’m lucky.

I was thinking about my husband yesterday. The way he thinks is so solid, he seems to have no visible anxiety or worry- ever. He is a straight shooter and recovers quickly when presented obstacles. I know this because this potent masterpiece of masculinity keeps my divine feminine soft, nurturing, creative, blooming, free and most importantly stable. He’s my best friend, but I want to make him my lover. Him and I jumped into life so quickly, but he never let go of each others hands. And now it’s time for me to get to know him as a lover — it’s time he gets to know me as a lover — being me attracts him the most, it gives him satisfaction to see me happy and moving authenticity. He knows there are a million different versions of me and seems to be accepting that they always make one of me.

I am not ashamed to admit my lust for money, sex and violence. That is a monster that lives inside me, a muse, a slave. It may be a monster but i am a bigger one and i have control of reality, more so than i think now. Yes im hard on myself, but it’s all constructive even if it may project as destructive. I stand in my belief that destruction is inevitable so you might as well learn to become the architect of you head, your mind- your thoughts. Building carefully, maybe pulling like jenga- it may fall but the pieces are always still intact, so there is no “real” loss- only the feeling of loss. Are we tired? Yes. But I mean either way we become tired—- so what will your intentions be? Intentions live subconsciously.

We need to capture them like kings. Never being the victim but the victor. Battle isn’t pretty but it can be slow and silent like a game of chess. ♟️ don’t let the world convince you battle only counts if there is blood, you don’t need to bleed, you need to think. Exercise your god damn mind. It is a muscle for god sake- the most valuable, the most magical, without the mind we are vegetables.

You are loved. You are noticed. You are wanted. You are of god. You are of the stars. You are human. You are beautiful.

-x

#it’s friday #friday vibes #girl in pieces #girl interrupted #self concept #human nature #human behaviour #human #diary #tumblr diary #diaryposting #personal diary #poetic #writeblr #writing #writers and poets #poetry #poetry blog #please reach deep into my mind #deep thinking #dear diary #deep thoughts #deep writing #free writing #thoughts into the void

[quintiliusheartripper]

pls show and tell me more about Octavos??? (@commanderhorncleaver)

Im going to be completely honest with you i do not know wben this was sent to me so i hope it wasnt long ago 😭 tumblr mobile on my new iphone (i used to be a android user lol but my dad gave me his old phone since my own broke) is weird

Anyway!!! Octavos!!!

A massive charr at 13ft, his whole bloodline is known for being monsterous sized gaurdians even from ancient times. He is one of my three grothmar born and raised charr (the other two being Vytt, quint’s father and Kytt who is uriahs father) who was given to an ash legion fahrar outside of the main city. It wasnt easy growing up, both because of his size in a place like the ashlegion but because his fahrar wasnt exactly the best. Like rylands there was a lot of abuse just to break the cubs down to be obedient and to harden them for the world.

Regardless hes always been quite a soft but extremely smart charr under his now threatening exterior. His mission for the ash legion after his graduation would be to infiltrate blood legion and root out or track any flame legion comings and goings within their ranks. Even better if he could get juicy tidbits on blood legion too. The best part is it was honestly easy because he just had to go in the ooze pits.

What he didn’t expect was the current imperators son to choose him. Thats right bangar chose him. It was definitely a double edged sword that octavos would have to dance around. Bangar in his youth likely wouldnt be any different from any other charr due to the fact theres still wars to be had against the humans and the flame legion. So i compensate in my writing by making him a little fucking nepotism asshole who would point out his fathers position anytime he wants something. Eventually bangar would realize that this massive charr wasnt as dumb as he pretended to be and they would eventually get into a very close, very casual, relationship. Afterall bangars one and true love is almorra but lets face it bangars the type to fuck others but be a pissy abusive baby when his girlfriend fucks someone else.

Anyway fast forward about ten years after, octavos has quite the dossier and has realized cracks and holes in grothmars defences. Octavos blends perfectly into blood legion, even getting the nickname The Devourer due to his appetite and eatting habits. But things start to get hot, literally, as some important players turn to the flame legion in secret. Plans are whispered among spies and defectors of a bombings and a invasion- the enemies exploiting areas octavos would have noted as weak points. He had a choice to either keep quiet and let it happen or come up with a plan to prevent it and come clean to the imperator about what he was and he did just that.

With the alarms sounded he gave the instructions on how they could prevent it, who to jail with hard evidence to back it up, and he helped lead something that would have had grothmar fall to the burgeoning flame legion.

Regardless bangar is extremely upset about the fact someone he was so weak with and shared so much to was a spy. In my head this plus almorra dumping him for a much nicer ash legion soldier is why he hates ash legion with a passion LMAO

I had done a tiny comic thing for charrtober. Id like to one day expand it more

But this leads to hims become a tribune for ash and head of defence for grothmar, appointed and suggested by the blood imperator. Bangar would soon rip his fathers throat out and become blood legion imperator and the two will instantly start butting heads. Octavos was progressive- he wanted reforms for fahrars both to make it so they were less abusive but so that the intergration of all the legions meant better teamwork. He would also advocate for the treaty and ceasefire as he put forth economic prosperity especially with trade relations and switching people to more important more dire circumstances like branded.

Octavos would eventually find himself in a odd predicament. He was the type who, when travelling the countryside, would help captured humans be able to escape especially if it looked like they werent soldiers. Usually he would buy them and free them. Sometimes he would even kill the charr if they were violent enough. Which he did upon meeting his future mate Silva. The human had known nothing but slavery under the charr (this is years 30-20 years before ceasefire) and upon seeing their violence octavos killed them, took the human with him, and told him to escape to the shiverpeaks. But silva was too scared to try and so octavos struck a deal that he could live in his house (something along the hillsides where the farmwrs are in grothmar) but would be called his slave untill he felt brave enough to go ahead and run. Silva would stay and while octavos would insist he didnt need to do anything silva would help feed octavoses pets and water his rooftop garden. (One pet is a tiny devourer he named Miss Pepper and a skritt named Biknip who was kicked out by the other skritt and just loves how big octavos is. So pet isnt the right word but everyone who sees him says hes octavoses pet) while octavos kept himself from acting inappropriate to someone he was aiming to help and save it was silva who fell for him and they would start a secret relationship in a age a human charr relationship was extremely taboo especially in grothmar. Dont be fooled by the fact he has a mate though. He has quite a few cubs who are adults by now and is still very sexually open to anyone who has the guts to ask him.

As years go by bangar appoints crecia and slowly but surely he loses his positions of power in grothmar. He and crecia are positive towards one another though, octavos sometimes giving tipsand even argued to bangar about the conditions for flame legions integration. He didnt agree to forcing the cubs to assimilate to blood legion as that will cause future animosity that they do not need. Like crecia they will always remember who theg were. He would again bang on about better fahrar structures and wpuld take the commanders and almorras side about aurene. He didnt want war anymore and instead wanted to see the charr become protectors, a spy network, and craftsman for the benefit for the rest of tyria. He would soon continue to butt heads with bangar even more as he railed on him about his failure to deal with the renegades that were hurting charr and foreigners. He would speak out against the antiforeigner sentiment since it rose to not just be about humans anymore. (He could understand that animosity. Like bangar he has seen what the humans can be capable and im still one to believe that while anet plays the humans in a good light due to gw1 i highly doubt the warcrimes just stopped at skinning a charr and wearing their pelts as armor . Or atleast i like to assume it was a lot more even in terms of the horror the two nations did to one another)

Renegades would plant a listening bug into a toy that octavos bought to give to biknip and soon bangar knew of octavoses illicit relationship that disgusted him. He gave octavos a ultimatum before the planning for the legion gathering truely came into motion. Retire early or have your mice killed. He retired, reluctantly. A part of him wishes he had stood up against him more. Maybe if he screamed more it wouldnt have came to civil war. His mate would soon live life as almost a werecharr, using magic. To go between human and charr. They liked the courage they felt as a charr but knew he was safe in octavoses arms even as a human. They would have a baby girl late in their life.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #gw2 art #guild wars 2 fanart #guild wars 2 art #charr #raes art #furry #guild wars 2 fan submission #octavos #asks

[cynettic]

Kissing Genshin Characters before you Die

Summary - Kissing the Genshin Characters one last time before you enter the battlefield.

Pairings - Reader x Albedo / Barbara / Bennett / Beidou / Chongyun / Diluc / Eula / Kazuha / Kaeya / Ayaka / Ningguang / Childe / Venti / Xiao / Zhongli

Warnings - Angst, death mentions

Tips - I wrote this listening to ‘Lovely’ and ‘Listen before I go,’ so it might make it better if you listen to both those songs while reading this :’) Both are by Billie Eilish btw, both reverb and slowed down songs for the extra angst

A/N - Im so tired, so so tired of human interaction and having no motivation to talk to people. Its like my social battery simply does not recharge, and I'm stuck writing about interactions I wish I could have, even if it's angst. Burying myself in the delusion that being in a different reality would change everything, burying myself in little imaginations and dreams of a love that doesn't exist.

Also yes, if you did notice the song lyrics playing at first are from "If the World was Ending," used to listen to that song so much. Thought it would fit this :)

“If the world was ending you’d come over right?”

It was absolute chaos, flames crawling up the wooden buildings and spreading smoke through the nation of Teyvat. Everything burned with the scorching heat, children crying, men and woman trying to run from the unescapable flames. Terror etched into citizens faces when encountering the monsters who appeared unaffected by the destruction.

Hilichurls and ruin guards smashing past people, till there was nowhere to run. And it was the mere decision of whether being beaten to death or burnt crisp was a better way to leave this world.

“You’d come over and you’d stay the night.”

But there you were, weapon in hand as you stood up against the blaze. Strong against the unblinking inferno in front of you, unwavering as you stood in front of the monsters that eagerly rushed towards you. Cut and obliterated in seconds, your eyes held nothing but a sickening disgust.

You slowly turned back to your s/o, relief quenching your heart when they were safe in the little location you’d found for them. They were injured, they wouldn't be sitting on the sidelines otherwise. And holding your weapon up again, you claimed the role of protector against the hoard of monsters.

“Would you love me for the hell of it?”

Their voice broke past your focus, a ragged sound that was suffering. It only took you a few strides till you reached them, crouching down to face them fully. Your faces were mere inches away, and you could see the frustration on their face. A deeply rooted feeling that fueled the action as they curled their hand around your head. Pressing your lips against theirs, one last kiss before you assumed the role of predator against the monsters.

“All our fears would be irrelevant.”

Both hands coming to hold their face, you pressed forwards into their kiss. Grasp tight against them, clinging onto them as if they were your lifeline.

“If the world was ending you’d come over right?”

You kissed them as if the world wasn't a aflame, like it was just you both sitting there. Hands grasping for their skin, for their lips, for them. Because without them you couldn't live in this smoldering world, a bright light that cocooned you in its comforting warmth. Nothing like the blazing flames that surrounded the two of you.

You kissed them like they were the only thing that mattered.

“The sky’d be falling and I’d hold you tight.”

But you felt the shake in their hands as they pressed their hand against your back, scared to let you go, scared to lose you. Scared to let this kiss end and have to face the scorching reality.

“And there wouldn't be a reason why.”

You pressed one last kiss to their forehead, basking in their embrace once more between you broke away. The look on your face was confident as you faced them one last time, softened by their teary eyes. Whispering soft words to them, you could only watch as they broke down, a tight feeling in your chest urging you to do the same.

But no, you had to be strong. For them, for yourself, for all of Teyvat. You slowly turned to the flames and monsters, holding up your weapon, screaming one last battle cry as you let your weapon lead your actions. As you let death become your only objective in a flurry to protect your partner.

“We would even have to say goodbye.”

Sobs wretched out of their throat as they watched you crumble, watched you fall the ground and collapse. Till the movement of your chest came to an abrupt stop, and monsters pooled at your sides.

They were forced to watch, unable to move.

“If the world was ending you’d come over right?”

Their cries turned to whimpers, until they couldn't hear the noises that spilled form their lips. Until they didn't care. What they cared about was thrown on their battlefield, beaten and ragged, torn and broken.

Dead.

“You’d come over… right?”

_-_-_-_-_

Albedo

He takes his time, hand on the back of your neck pushing you so hard against him till he’s woozy. Memorizing the feel of your plush lips against his, molding them into memory with every kiss. He’ll break away from your lips, pressing soft pecks up your face, along your nose, to your forehead. Infatuated with the way your hands gently hold his face, careful, delicate. He doesnt want to let you go, and with one final peck right between your eyes, he’ll close his eyes, whispering a goodbye as you leave. He doesnt open them when you die, he doesnt open them when the monsters reach him. No, he dies in your embrace, even if its not real.

Barbara

Desperate, oh so desperate. She doesnt know what to do with you when you press your hands to her face, tearful. You’ll have to be the one to initiate the kiss, muffling her cries with a short lived sweetness between the two of you. She’ll have her hands all over you, unsure of how to hold you, how to press you against her. She wants to stay like this forever, and even if her kisses are sloppy and messy, she’s crying too much to notice. She won’t break away, you’ll have to tug your way out of her grip and press one last kiss to her forehead. Her voice is angelic, even when she cries. You remind yourself that this is what you’re protecting as you enter the battlefield, giving it your all.

Beidou

Oh she knows, knows how this will play out. The kisses shared between the two of you are strong and compassionate, its more intense than any other kiss you’ve both shared before. Because she knows. She knows what’ll become of you and her, that this is the last kiss she’ll share with you, that there's nothing she can do about it. She lets herself indulge in you, her strong hold on you never letting go until you vocally ask her to let you go. You make her promises she knows you can't keep, but simply smiles, telling you to come back to her.

Bennett

Awkward, his hands will grab your shoulders when you approach him, pressing for a kiss immediately. He misses his mark, accidentally pressing his lips to the edge of your lips, noses bumping against each other as he tries to shift his face. You chuckle, holding his face as you adjust the angle, till you can fully reach his lips and press him against you. Like Barbara, he’ll cry, letting himself melt into you. He doesnt resist when you back away, whispering to him. Just sitting there he’ll cry, sob through it all, vision blurry with tears. But its better that way, he can picture you better when everything is fuzzy.

Chongyun

Everything was smoldering hot, too much for Chongyun who has so much yang energy trapped in him. He’s going through one of his rushes when you get to him, eager to tuck you into his arms. His kisses are sporadic, like he’s trying to kiss you but he cant. Like no matter how much his lips meet yours, it isnt enough. He wants more, he wants the promise of your forever embrace ingrained in his head. And when you break away, he’s left empty, the kisses he’d given you the only warmth on his lips. Suddenly everything was cold, so cold, and he only wished for you.

Diluc

Too rough, mashing your lips against his until you couldn't breath. Dizzy with the lack of oxygen, he didn't stop. You were ‘his,' right here right now, no one could take you away from him. You belonged alongside him, crouched in front of him, pressed into his arms where he could keep you safe. He wouldn't let you go, strong arms pulling you to his chest so firmly that you couldn't escape. He wanted to be selfish, he let himself indulge in the promise to himself that you weren't going anywhere. You’ll have to physically break out yourself, pressing back his hands as he tries to make a grab for you, tears brimming.

Eula

You were her everything, and she’ll tell you it through her kisses. She’ll run her hands along the curve of your back, holding you tenderly against her. She doesn't wish for vengeance for all the soft kisses you’ve stolen from her good days long ago, no, she’s willing to forgive you for everything as long as you’ll ‘stay.’ She promises that in all honesty, she loves everything about you, even if she denies it sometimes. And when you leave, she tells you to come back. That its the one and only thing she’ll hold against you if you don't.

Kazuha

Soft, so incredibly sensual with every touch. Kazuha was always filled with words, filled with lovely compositions made for you and only you. But now, he couldn't think of anything, no haiku he’d written in the past that compared to what he felt right now. Metaphors and hidden meanings couldn't compare to the raw pulsing throb he felt in his chest. “I love you,” he whispered, plain and simple. It held so much affection, he was afraid even those words weren't enough to express what he felt, but he settled with it either way. “I love you,” he repeated, brushing your lips against his before he said it again. “I love you.” He said it again, even as you left, entering the battlefield. He didn't stop saying it, not when he saw the monsters take you, not when they approached him with the promise of death. “I love you.”

Kaeya

He doesnt kiss you, because kisses to Kaeya are a sort of affection that brings the sense of normalcy. He likes the way your lips feel against his, but holding you against him is more special. He doesnt depend on kisses to express what he feels, instead pushing your head to his chest, sighing when your own arms come to wrap around him. No kisses, no touches, just you and him. Offering each other your last shreds of hope, because in the end, you only need each other.

Ayaka

“Look at me.” Her hand cups your cheeks just as you do to her. Now you both simply stare into each others eyes, love and adoration filling hers. She loves you, oh she loves you so much. But she understands duty better than anyone, the urge to protect you almost consuming her. When she kisses you, its soft, butterfly kisses. She doesn't rely on the contact to keep her grounded, no holding your face is a gift enough for her. To stare at you, even for one last time, is all she needs. You’ve given her so much, she would follow you to the ends of the world if you asked her to, and that's why it hurts her so much to watch you fall. She closes her eyes, noticing that she’d follow soon after and perhaps see you in the afterlife. No, she would, that's a promise she makes to herself.

Ningguang

Ningguang has delt with loss before, the concept isnt foreign to her. But you… you’re more than the jade chamber, more than any possession she has. You’re precious, like she sold a piece of her heart to you that she could never gain back. You took it from her, and you plan to take it with you to the battlefield. All she can do is press her lips against yours. Kiss you and the world beside you both becomes meaningless, until air becomes a chore instead of a necessity. Because without air she'd kiss you forever.

Childe

Details, in the case that Childe himself cant fight alongside you, he’ll hold you and repeat the details in his head. The way his hand feels on your hair, how soft or rough your lips are against his. How you fit against him, how badass you look out in the battlefield. He won’t stop you from leaving him, because he knows that if this case was reversed, he’d want you to let him go too. So he presses intimate kisses, slow ones that dont consist of a fight for dominance like they usually do. No, he wants to tell you how much he loves you, one last time.

Venti

He doesnt know what to do, pressed against you firmly. He presses soft kisses, but theres no emotion, he doesn't know how to express himself here. He’s lost a lot, lost so much in his existence, but nothing prepared him for this. Only after a kisses will he ask to cry, and when you tell him yes he’ll press his head against your shoulder. He’ll sob, hands gripping the fabric of your shirt as he does so. And then he kisses you while tears stream down his face, mashes your lips against his until his face grows numb. And he’ll continue to feel numb when you leave, when you die, when he dies.

Xiao

He doesn't know what to do, Xiao has never felt so utterly useless when you crouch to him. Form battered and bruised, when you embrace him he feels whole again. You’re his world, he doesn't care about the blazing inferno just beside you, the monsters that threaten all of Teyvat. You are his everything, what he strives to protect and keep safe. Kisses with him are breathless, both of you passionately pulling each other closer. He cant get enough of you, he wants all of you, every single piece. Molded into his embrace until you cant get out. When you break away, he tries to pull you to him, but he finds himself only able to move in the slightest. But Xiao is a protector, he is ‘your’ protector. He follows you as you head to the battlefield, dragging his limp body in a crawl to get closer. He doesn't stop when he sees the monsters overtake you, no, he continues. Just until he reaches your body, grabbing you and holding your corpse into his chest. He numbs out the monsters that attack him, knowing sullenly that he's going to die. But death doesn't seem so bad, not beside you.

Zhongli

As someone who always has control over the situation, Zhongli will be able to adapt quickly. But he doesnt want you to suffer, admiring you for being so strong when everything presses against you. He wishes to relieve the weight if only a little bit with a few kisses. Sensual and intimate, he wants to support you, and if he cant do it on the battlefield he’ll do it right here. Hold you close and promise you that he’ll always be there for you. Only after you die does he allow himself to cry, not wanting to have burdened you with his tears.

#genshin impact xiao #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact hc #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact albedo #genshin impact barbara #genshin impact beidou #genshin impact bennett #genshin impact chongyun #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact kaeya #genshin impact eula #genshin impact ningguang #genshin impact ayaka #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact childe #genshin impact zhongli #albedo x reader #bennett x reader #chongyun x reader #beidou x reader #barbara x reader #eula x reader #kaeya x reader #childe x reader

[kaunis-sielu]

Brutus

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Bucky warns the Agent with his phone out about to take a picture of you curled up like a cat in the sun.

“It’s just a picture sir, my best friend has a huge crush on her.” He says with what Bucky assumes is his attempt at a charming smile.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Bucky says with a little shrug and the Agent grins then lines up the shot again. Before he can there’s a puff of smoke a large roar and a loud scream then the Agent goes tearing past him.

“Brutus,” your soft sleepy voice says, “are you playing nice?”

“Doll.”

“Mm, Bucky.” He reaches a hand down for you, one of the few people that Brutus will let approach you, but you pull him down into your sunspot. “Was Brutus yelling at you?” You ask as you curl into him.

“Nah, some Agent. I tried to warn him.” He gives the massive black bear a friendly pat on the belly and he receives a gentle swipe in return. Bucky knows if Brutus wanted to hurt him he would without hesitation, it speaks to how much you trust him.

“Mm,” you hum softly tugging Bucky back so he’s leaning against Brutus too. “So the roar was deserved?”

“In my opinion yes.”

“Okay, good boy Brutus.” You mumble, and Bucky chuckles softly. He’s not sure your eyes have been open for more than a few seconds since you’d said his name.

“What are we doin Doll?”

“Charging, we’re gonna be called for a late mission today.”

“And you’ve had me join you because?”

“Because you’re safe. And Brutus likes you.” The bear gives a low rumble from beneath him and it honestly warms his heart. You’re so small against him, curled like this your head is at his chest and toes brush just below his knees. But on the battlefield you’re easily the more deadly. Bucky has seen you take out a dozen hydra agents without even breaking a sweat. Thor had once accused you of being his sister Hela you were so deadly.

But it took a lot out of you, more than once Bucky had carried you back to your room where you’d stayed for a couple days your familiar not even letting Bucky in to see you. And Bucky wasn’t willing to fight with the bear, he knew that had you needed him your familiar would always come get him.

He also knows to listen when you say that you’re going to be called for a mission. While you swear that you can’t see the future you’re almost never wrong about calling a mission.

So Bucky relaxes against the bear, curls an arm around you and goes to sleep.

Sure enough, a night mission, you lounge on Brutus’ back while he and Bucky walk to the meeting.

“Is that even comfortable?” He asks and you hum softly in affirmation as the three of you enter the jet. It’s a quiet flight to Washington State where in the wilderness there’s a cell of Hydra terrorists hiding.

Hydra sees the team coming, Bucky is fighting not far from you when he hears a cry of pain and a flash of black magic. Brutus roars loudly then charges a hydra Agent. You’re on the ground and throwing the man he’s been fighting into a tree Bucky rushes to your aid. Blood is seeping out your side at an alarming rate. You cry out again and Brutus falls with a roar, you grab Bucky’s arm and pant,

“Save Brutus.”

“No. I have to stop your bleeding first.”

“No, if he dies. I die.” You gasp and horror rushes through Bucky. So, he does as you ask and rushes to the bear who has been shot more than once.

“Brutus. She’s okay.” He lies and the bear gives him a look, “I gotta get you to stop bleeding.” Working on humans is one thing but a black bear is very different. He’s having a hard time finding all the wounds.

“What are you doing?” Wanda screams from above him, “Midnight is bleeding out and you’re worried about a bear?”

“Get the bullets outta him Wanda!” Bucky yells back and with a flick of her wrist the bullets work their way out of Brutus. She lands next to him then runs to you. “He dies she dies!” Bucky roars and Wanda sprints back.

“What?”

“He’s what keeps her immortal apparently!”

“Shit.”

“Help me!” Bucky is in a panic now, Brutus is breathing less and less and blood is still oozing out of him.

“I got this. Go get Midnight and get her on the plane!” She uses one hand to work on Brutus slowly drawing his blood back into his body and closing each bullet hole, “go so you can get back and cover my six!” She snaps and Bucky rushes to you, he doesn’t like how much blood is on your uniform, why you’re not wearing body armor is something he’ll be changing about your uniform and he doesn’t care if you like it. He gently scoops you up and the movement is enough to jolt you back to consciousness for a moment.

“Bru-“

“Wanda’s working on him.” He tells you, “I’m getting you back to the jet.” What feels like hours later, but is really a couple of minutes, he puts you in the cradle and turns it on. “I’ll be right back Doll. Don’t you dare die on me.” He says before sprinting back to where Wanda is working on Brutus.”

“Go get the intel. We’re fine.” She’s got this red shield around her and Brutus and the bear is looking better so Bucky does as she asks and heads inside the small cave that was being used as the Hydra hideout. They’d defended it fiercely so hopefully there’s something good. Sure enough he finds several laptops and throwing them into a bag he finds then hurries back out to where Wanda is levitating Brutus onto the jet.

“Where’s Midnight?”

“Cradle. FRIDAY get us out of here.” Bucky snaps before going to sit next to you in the cradle.

The flight is half over when you start to stir, the cradle stops and opens with a soft hiss and Bucky is ready to help you out.

“Where’s Brutus?” You ask, swinging your legs over the side of the cradle.

“Careful Doll,” Bucky warns just before your legs crumble underneath you. Bucky catches you before you hit the ground and pulls you against him. “I got you.”

“I need to get to him.”

“Wanda took good care of him Doll.”

“Bucky please.” Like he could ever deny you anything, he scoops you up and carries you to the back of the jet where Brutus is laying on a mat. “Put me down next to him please.” Bucky does then goes to sit next to you but stops when Brutus growls lowly. “It’s okay Bru, it’s time.” You tell the bear before pressing a kiss to his nose. You lean back and there’s a flash and suddenly Brutus is on fire.

“Woah!” Bucky jumps up to grab the fire extinguisher but it’s too late, all that’s left of the bear is a pile of ash. “What, Doll, what the fuck?”

“Just wait.” You tell him watching the largest pile, so he does too. A sneeze erupts from it and to Bucky’s astonishment a small ear appears. “Sit with me. I want him to remember you.”

“Why?” He asks as he sits down next to you.

“Because then you’re not a threat, ever. He’ll accept you into our family.” Sure enough a few seconds later the creature shakes and the rest of the ash falls away from the small body. There sits a black bear cub, who grumbles around Bucky then crawls his way into your lap.

“How long will he be that small?”

“A couple of days.” You say depositing the bear into Bucky’s lap. He swipes Bucky’s arm but other than a metallic noise nothing happens and the bear seems confused.

“Bru, be nice. This is Bucky. We like Bucky.” The bear, who is apparently Brutus, blinks up at Bucky then nuzzles his head into his metal hand. Bucky gives him a little scratch and Brutus makes the pleased noise that he’s always made when Bucky scratches his ears. “He remembers.” You tell him with a smile over at him, “he might even let you into my room when I’m having a bad day now.”

“So this whole, him lighting on fire is a normal occurrence?”

“It is. It’s just usually not such a public affair.” You say leaning against Bucky, “sorry I’m still a little tired.”

“I’ve got you Doll.”

“You know Bucky, our souls have known one another before.”

“What’s that Doll?”

“Our souls, they know one another. It’s why Brutus likes you so much, why you make me feel safe. Why you have this urge to protect me.”

“Pretty sure that’s not just cuz I knew you before Doll.”

“Why else would it be?”

“Maybe because I’m falling in love with you.”

“Oh good.” You say dreamily and Bucky isn’t sure how much of the conversation you’re actually comprehending. “I’m falling in love with you too. Which makes things much less complicated.” Bucky laughs softly, you’re not wrong.

“You should get some sleep Doll.”

“Will you come with us?” You ask picking up the sleeping bear cub who grumbles then snuggles into you.

“If you want.” You hold out a hand and he climbs to his feet and takes your hand. You press yourself against the side of the jet’s built in cot. Brutus is in your arms and Bucky joins you on the cot facing you on his side.

“Goodnight Bucky.” You whisper before letting your eyes drift shut.

“Night Doll.” He says with a little half smile, he watches you for a few minutes before closing his eyes and drifting off.

Tag list:

@abschaffer2 @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @thesassmisstress @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @killcomet @dumblani @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @scuzmunkie @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden @connie326 @inkedaztec @valsworldofcreativity @strangersstranger

#Bucky Barnes #imagine bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #one shot #bucky barnes one shot #avengers one shot #avengers oneshot #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky x witch!reader

[dragonblobz]

I'm on my bullshit again. No lemons. Just Shinigami goodness. Wrote this to In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth 3 by Coheed and Cambria.

Ryuk has been around for such a long time. Ever since she had found that notebook sitting on that tree stump years ago. Cover soft looking and beaded with dew. It had looked as if it had been there some time. And, although the pages looked weathered and yellow, there was no mold or outward damage.

Surprising given its location in the middle of the woods. She’d only even seen it because she’d stopped and knelt to retie her shoe. Just an alien black square looking sharp and unreal sitting on that stump just off the jogging trail.

She can remember how the thing had felt when she’d picked it up. Soft in texture. Like careworn leather.

The words “Death Note" emblazoned on the cover had made her feel a little unsettled. Eerie out here in the predawn misty quiet.

A silent voice inside her mind had whispered that maybe she should put it right back down on that stump and keep running. As far and as fast as she could.

Another voice, vapid and cunning, had laughed at the absurdity of such a book, with such a title, being left out here in the middle of nowhere.

She hadn’t left it there. Without opening it, she’d tucked it under her arm and continued on her morning run.

She performed all the menial tasks of her daily life, forgetting all about that Death Note leaving dew marks on her dining room table.

Breakfast was bland. Work was tedious. No different than any other day. Even when she’d reentered her home and plopped her work bag next to the thing, her eyes really didn’t focus on it.

It was the tall bony Shinigami standing in her kitchen that finally arrested her fuzzy mind from the blandness of living.

He hadn’t even been looking at her. Instead, the spinous processes of his vertebrae pressed onto the dark material upon his long back as he leaned over her counter. Observing a bowl of fruit as if it were a still life masterpiece.

She hadn’t moved. Was utterly frozen. Just watching this creature as it looked at her food.

“What’s all this junk? Taking up room that could be used for perfectly good apples.” It’s voice, low and yet raspy, grated on her eardrums as it lifted a hand and poked a claw into the ripe flesh of an orange. The movement causing several pieces of fruit to fall out of the over filled bowl entirely.

With a deft movement, the creature caught the only apple which had exited the bowl. Rubbed it with the pad of it’s thumb as it finally lifted it’s face to look at her.

It’s face………

Cadaverous. Eyes beady and large and yellow. Nose squashed. Like a mummy who’d decided to affix it’s hair for a punk rock concert. It was even sporting a dangling silver earring on one of it’s little ears.

At her gawping expression, it had smiled. Wide thin dark mouth sporting a row of razor teeth appearing aged and yellow.

“No screaming, eh? Hiya, Y/N.”

She hadn’t bothered to question how this thing knew her name.

“Um…….. hi?” Her own voice sounded dry and distant in her ears. “And you are?”

It bit into that apple, it’s eyes closing. As if savoring the fruit. A stray drop of the juice dribbled down onto it’s chin.

It said a word. But muffled thru a mouthful of apple, it nearly sounded like a retch.

“Ex….Excuse me? I didn’t…… I didn’t quite understand that.”

“Not a good listener tho. Ah well. Nobody is perfect.” It’s long tongue snaked out to swipe at that bead of juice as the creature had studied her.

Raising it’s free hand, it extended a long bony finger. She noticed now the rings glinting on his hands.

“I. Am. Ryuk.” He said it very slowly. As if she might have been a child who might not understand. But there wasn’t a trace of sarcasm or ill temper in it’s behavior.

“So….. Ryuk…… why…… um…. What……. What do you want?”

At this, it’s smile had widened.

“I’m just here Y/N. YOU are the one that picked up the Death Note.”

Imagery of that notebook popped up in her head.

“I….. I did……”

“Yes. You did. And I’ll be with you until you die now. Or I do.” It was leering now. “Whichever comes first.”

“I see….” She didn’t really see. Turned from him and went into the dining room to pick up that notebook. Opening it. Reading the first thing written on the inside of the cover out loud.

“The human whose name is written in this note shall die.”

It had been frightening in retrospect. Not those words. Not that Death Note. Not even the monster standing in the doorway happily crunching it’s way thru a second apple and watching her.

What had been utterly terrifying was that she had not blanched. Had not set this note down and backed away. Had not told that creature to take it and go.

Instead, she’d stood there. Continuing to read. A name and face already coming to mind.

A face belonging to a monster who’d put that apple eating shark mouthed monster to utter shame. The man who’d killed someone she had loved.

Without looking away from the Death Note, she’d reached over and started rummaging thru her work bag. Fingers shaking and fumbling at keys and change.

“Never can find what you’re looking for if your bag is too full, Y/N.” Ryuk looked vastly amused. “You’re not even going to question the validity of the Note? That’s what you humans usually do.”

She hadn’t answered. Simply gasped as her fingers had clutched onto a great fistful of bullshit in her bag. Lifting the whole mess out to drop carelessly on the table. Chapstick and a tampon scattering across the surface.

And there, rolling and coming to rest against an old broken key chain, had been a blue ink pen.

She’d looked up at Ryuk. Eyes wide, almost manic.

“Any person?”

He smiled again. Repeated her words.

“Any living person.”

There had been no eloquence. No artfulness nor ritualistic care taken in that first death. She had scratched the name onto the paper. And a way to die. Almost stabbing it in. Breathing coming out in ragged desperate gasping.

After the deed had been done, the pen clattered to the floor as she’d wept. Fingers numb.

It hadn’t occurred to her that there would be no way to instantly verify this death. Not until that moment. And so, with a frustrated cry, she’d slapped the Death Note onto the table and fled into her bedroom. Right over to the dark corner to collapse, wrap her arms around her knees, stuff her face into her knees, and cry as a child. Ryuk following her, tilting his head quizzically at this suffering.

“Why are you crying? You couldn’t have liked that human if you wanted them to die.”

“Please…… please go.”

But he didn’t. Simply had sank down. Knobby knees on either side of his ghastly face as he sat across from her.

“I told you. I’m here till you die, Y/N.” There was no camaraderie or sympathy in his voice. It had been matter of fact. “But this surely will get boring very soon, won’t it?”

“When will I know if he died?”

Ryuk smiled again. Leering.

“My my. Impatient aren’t you. Actually that’s a quality I like about you humans. As for your question, I guess you’ll just have to find out for yourself.” His eyes glint as his smile turns wicked. “You could always write a name belonging to someone closer. If you’re seeking validation, of course.”

“There isn’t anyone else I wanna kill.”

“Then this is going to get very boring very quickly, Y/N.”

She hadn’t had to wait long. Two days later, she’d received correspondence that her presence would no longer be required at a hearing. The defendant was dead.

A quick Google search verified that the person had died just as she’d written.

Setting the phone down, fingers numb, she'd simply looked up at her Shinigami.

She knew that’s what he was now. She’d been peppering him with questions about himself and his kind. And about the Death Note. He hadn’t answered many of them. At least, not until she’d given him an angelic grin and revealed a bag of bright green apples.

“Your apples can be green???” He'd looked absolutely delighted. And had been far more forthcoming.

“He’s dead. He’s really……. Gone…….”

Ryuk merely grunted in visceral enjoyment as he popped the core of that Granny Smith into his maw.

Without warning, she’d reached forward, patting at another errant drop of juice on his chin with a Kleenex she’d just snatched from the box. The action was mainly impulsive. And she’d laughed.

“You’re so messy.”

The Shinigami had frozen. Utterly motionless. He didn’t breathe himself. Statue still. Simply looking at her.

The years passed by like this. The shock and relief provided by this first killing soon giving way to an almost comfortable routine. She didn’t go on a wholesale slaughter. And often targeted those who hurt children. The pain of such cases resonating with the events of her own life.

And there were so. Many. Apples. Loads of them. Ryuk loved all kinds. Although he did seem preferential to Honey Crisp. She never once could get him to try another fruit. And she DID try. Not even a damn orange.

“It’s yummy. Ya know, for somebody that says he gets bored easily, you sure are picky.” She waggled the bright fruit.

“I’ve watched you peel one of those things. What sort of food makes you work so hard? Now THIS……” He'd held up his half eaten apple. “THIS is the pinnacle of crisp and juicy. Now leave that orange wherever you found it, if you please.”

Time was littered with conversations as simple as these, intermingled with serious discussions in which he was as non informative as ever.

It was one of these more serious conversations which followed an observation on her part.

She’d noticed changes in him. Very slight. But she was simply around him so much that she could see them. His movements had become slower. More careful. His speech slowed as well. As if he might be thinking more carefully. Or even forgetting things. She never once pointed this out.

Not until, one day, after clearing 6 entire apples, he’d actually groaned as he’d flopped upon her couch. Long booted feet hanging over one of the arms.

She plops next to him. Poking at one of the skulls on his belt. He’d long since stopped being surprised by her impulsive touches and nearness. Her humanness. Simply tolerating it.

“Are you hurting, Ryuk?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Oh. No reason.”

“I’m dying, Y/N.”

For once, it is she who freezes.

“I thought Shinigami lived a long time.”

“We do. My time is simply running out.” He’s just watching her.

“You’d said….. you’d said that you guys get more years by taking ours.”

“We do.”

She stops toying with that skull entirely. Turns her body so that she’s facing him directly.

“Is it time, then?” She’s oddly unafraid.

“Time for what?”

“For you to….. ya know…… write my name in YOUR Death Note?”

At this, he chuckles.

“I’m not going to write your name.”

She looks confused.

“But….. why not?”

Now he’s actually laughing.

“Do you WANT me to write your name in my Death Note?”

She chews on her bottom lip. Reaching out to pat his chest. Once again, he doesn’t react.

“I don’t want you to die.”

He laughs again. But there is no more true mirth in the sound.

“Why?”

She counters.

“Why won’t you write my name?”

“I am not entirely sure, Y/N.” The slight confusion in his voice gives credence to this answer.

“Well. I am sure.” She’s staring intently at him. “Everything ends, Ryuk. Nobody ever stays. Nothing is constant. I’ve never had a single person ever remain in my life. Except….. except you.”

He sighs. Patiently repeating himself.

“I will be with you until you die.”

“I don’t care if it’s because you have to be here. You’re still HERE……. Will it be soon?”

That same, toothy leer.

“You know I won’t tell you your lifespan, Y/N.”

“I don’t mean me.”

He just looks at her. She’s never seen his face so expressionless. Then repeats yet again.

“I will be with you until you die. Or until I do.”

“I will write my own name then. Will that do it?”

“Stop being foolish. Be a dear and get me another apple won’t you?”

“Yeah….. I will. But I’m not done.”

“I’m sure you’re not.” He chuckles.

It is as if this conversation opens a chasm in this inevitable process. Everything about Ryuk is changing. And so quickly.

Already emaciated and pale, even his dark lips turn papery and light grey. His hair grays too. Yellow eyes growing filmy where they had been so keen before. As if, when the aging process actually begins in a Shinigami, it is accelerated.

It is barely 2 weeks after this conversation that he gives a defeated grunt, sprawled on her bed as she’s on her laptop.

“I can’t get up.” He barks out a laugh. As if this is genuinely funny to him.

She closes her laptop and rises from her chair. Turning and walking over to the bed to flop next to him. Staring at the ceiling just as he is.

“You want another apple?”

“Thank you, Y/N. But I do not.”

“That close, huh.”

“I believe so, yes.”

“Will the Death Note still work? When you’re gone I mean.”

“Yes.”

Her voice is oddly cold.

“Do death gods go to hell? I cant go to heaven or hell. What about you?”

He doesn’t answer for several minutes. She doesn’t speak either. Finally…

“I suppose we will end up in the same place, Y/N.”

“I'm glad.” She turns her face to look at him. “I’ll need something before you go.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

“The Shinigami eyes.”

At this, Ryuk turns his face as well. And they just stare at each other.

“Clever greedy impatient girl.” The insult is almost affectionate. “Are you truly that afraid to die alone?”

“Nobody should die alone. And this way, neither of us will half to. Half my lifespan for the Shinigami eyes. We’ll die at the same time.” She looks back up at the ceiling. He does too.

When he feels her fingers intertwining with his, as always, he doesn’t react.

“I never actually made that offer to you. Merely spoke of it.”

“I don’t care. I want the Shinigami eyes.”

He turns his face to her.

“Who am I to turn down such a lucrative deal?”

She sees his hand coming towards her face. Closes her eyes.

When she opens them again, the picture of her and some old friends on the wall is noticeably different. One face, the face of the friend who’d committed suicide years before, is clear and unblemished. The other faces each have a name and numbers above them.

And when she looks back at Ryuk, she sees that his hair is once again jet black. Eyes just as clear and sharp as she remembers. He leers at her. Squeezes her hand as she’s squeezing his.

“I’ll take that apple as well. If the offer is still there.”

She grins.

“You got a new lease on life and you STILL won’t try an orange?”

He scoffs.

#death note #ryuk #fem reader #ryuk x reader #tw suicide reference #my writing

[h0unds-of-h3ll]

Talking to the moon

The rumors and trauma lived inside his head in fact it ate him alive. Each and everyday lifeless and a black cloud hung over his head. Except when he received and a test message from an unknown number. He knew it was unknown for three reasons. 1) Everyone knew to not text him or disturb him unless he contacted them first. 2) He could recite his entire list of contacts over anything else in his life. And the third was that he didn’t know that this unknown message would change him forever.

Word count: 15,000 *im so sorryyyy*

This is another dreaded Bucky Barnes x reader fic.

Viewers beware you are in for a scare with the: fluff, Bucky is a wanna be alcoholic, blood, angst, cheesy tropes *wrong number,etc*, bad jokes, one liners, awkwardness, sexual innuendos, mentioned sexual harassment, suicidal thoughts, depression, murder, slight dark Bucky who’s just trying to get through life, Sam Wilson mentioned, astrology and planets, knifes, ptsd, nightmares and terrors, flashbacks, sad bitch Bucky missing Steven and using the reader as a better therapist then the certified one, she/her pronouns used for the reader, mostly from Buckys POV, she/you referring to the reader JOHN WALKER SLANDER NO HATE TO THE ACTOR, glass.

(This is dedicated to my friend, tiny adjustments to buckys story and I am dearly sorry if I didn’t write bucky true to his character!)

He choked awake on the air that never left his cold lungs, meanwhile, his skin was afire. A coat of sweat coated him, he slept shirtless since this occurred so often. Always waking in the depth of night to little to no light, only the low gleam of the moon shone through his window near his kitchen along with the soft luminosity of the television sat in front of the sofa. One that he refused to sleep on. He couldn't even sleep on the soft bed tucked in the back corner of the room down the hall in his apartment. He debated why he just wouldn't move into a studio apartment instead of the one he resides in.

He huffed staggeringly and his eyes falling to the ground, searching for something that was never there. Tranquility. His brain trying to calm itself in some form, it never worked it took hours for it to. Even then it never lasted. He suffers another day's trauma trying to sort the world back into order. Sam would often notice but knew to never ask him about it. He knew from the months working together asking and attempting to comfort Bucky often led to arguments. Bucky strongly knew this was nothing and that others were just blowing it out of proportion.

That also led to bias work and Bucky not doing his best, since Sam put him in a bad mood beforehand. Bucky went to therapy. He was more forced than offered, the government felt he was more of a ticking bomb than anything else. Bucky thought of it as more of a joke than anything.

There was no sense in for him to go to the sessions. He often found himself trying to find excuses to skip sessions. He thought that the past is the past and trying to fix it wasn't a possibility. Bucky dealt with it the way he could. He pushed it deep, deep, down in the roaring sea of his mind and dealt with it later. Only in his dreams did it resurface to haunt him. Always making him uptight and tired from the lack of sleep.

However, at this point, he was use to the torture of it all. His brain is his worst enemy. Through shaky breath fanned on his arm, he was crouched over his left leg up his metal arm resting over his knee his other arm holding his weight. He watched the glow of the tv, his chest heaved in exasperation.

Nothing piqued his interest in broadcasting. It was all the same mumbo jumbo of stereotypical things like romance, the reality that was depicting the species as inhumane, the comedy he didn't understand, only one channel did hold his interest.

Perhaps it worsened his mental state but he didn't care and it was the news. It was all the current disasters of the world and the avengers trying to stabilize the circumstances and the best part of it all how disturbing the world is. Even if his bringing was normal to where he is now, he'd most likely be a deeply tormented individual.

He nearly had heart failure when a banner at the bottom of the screen read "John Walker elected as the new Captain America." In blinding letters. Above the banner was John Walker himself standing in front of the podium a hand raised in a gesture to recognize the audience's howl.

Buckys head burst with memories of Hydra and the way it evoked him. The way of how Hydra forced him to be something he wasn't. John Walker was the perfect example of an alternate reality with a substitute Steve. Everything Steve was for John Walker was against.

Images flashed in his head. He put his hands on his head his natural one warm and clammy, in contrast to the bitter cold one. It just gave his flashbacks even more fuel. Living with a constant reminder of who he is. A monster.

He grabbed tightly onto his hair the strands were being plucked as this was being written. He felt small patches of balding from this happening so regularly. His legs parted and creased by the knees. His face strained into pain. His extensive wrinkles from age, noticeable, and worsened from him doing so.

His blanket thrown away to the side with disregard, he started to rock softly front and back. The wood floor burned his tailbone from him sitting on it for so long. Suddenly he felt a different pain. A killer one.

The beige cabinets thrown open papers and documents scattered everywhere. The dark grey of a ceiling of the shelter peered over him judgingly. His arm pushed down into the metal of the chair burned from the uncomfortable position. The bolts leaving deep indentions in his skin. The helmet pressed tightly to his skull leaving him render less against the horror of hearing the words. So many times he had to go through this routine, the monitors loud and buzzing. He bit down strenuously onto the guard in his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. The electricity drumming into his head, his brain setting fire to its system, he feels it in his muscles, in his blood, the veins that pop in his neck. The tubes behind his head generated and pumped large amounts which umped higher and higher in velocity each time an activation word was spoken loud and clearly. Spat carelessly not in his mother's tongue, he would never think of the language to be beautiful only to be a monstrosity of the world one of the greatest. His dull fingernails dug into the chair it did nothing other than to give him some sort of balance. He screamed but it was muffled to an extent of the guard doing its purpose. "Daybreak."

The announcer spoke into the fuzzy black microphone that's the only word he made out to hear. The daily news report drone on for what of which he came back into reality.

He opened his azure eyes and looked to the left the window that sat in the middle of a pale white wall and his kitchen showed the red bloom of the sun and the tall buildings of the city.

He felt resentful towards the time of day since his flashbacks usually only lasted a minute or so.

Lately, they've grown in duration and that stroke dread into him. He was horrified that someone would say or do an act that would put him in a state of mind. One that he wished to not be in.

Somedays he just yearned to be left for dead in the snowfall of the forest. Notably, so far from the arm that was taken from him that it would be hidden to the world for eons. And from the pessimism of the clouds above him.

He grew irritably hot and damp from the excessive sweat he did to himself, he felt everything was his fault, enlisting, going on the train, helping Steve.

He hated himself for a moment realizing what he thought, he felt selfish for thinking that Steve did this to punish him. He sighed and laid his head tilted to the plastered ceiling.

His neck outstretched. His legs and his arm, limp from the compression of him tensing them for so long. His muscles trying their hardest to relax. His figure seeming to be the equivalent of a sack of potatoes.

He didn't care about how he presented, perhaps it was his past with being a soldier the constant thriving to be the strongest and the son of Hercules. He pushed so far that his body couldn't endure the strength he put it through.

Super soldier serum and all, he was still just a man. He was still human deep into the last atom of his DNA. His eyes nonchalantly examined his ceiling a soft pale white like the rest of his apartment, it reminded him of the moon outside.

If he were to take out his ceiling it'd be right above him. He was enamored by how it seemed to have an ever-lasting glow. He let out a shaky huff then fell ever quiet. Until the day grew old.

Yori had scheduled a lunch meeting earlier that week, they had a routine. Yori attended and Bucky paid. This happened every Wednesday they would meet up and discuss whatever they wished. Yori was just an old decaying man who lived in Chinatown, he lived across from Bucky's building. Yori was kind to the ones he knew.

It was otherwise to people he didn't. After Yori's son died it was hard to, if he only knew who Bucky was entirely he'd die out of shock. Bucky swore to tell him but honestly, Yori was his only friend he had out of work, and even that he couldn't let himself go and confide in Sam.

So here he was in a plain-back leather jacket, some jeans and the same pair of boots he had since the war. He didn't understand the fashion trends of late. Last week he and Yori saw a woman in a bright suit, it looked like a second skin from how tight it was.

Yori was simple-minded as he was and had similar morals and interests. It was disheartening to say that Bucky had a sort of envy for Yori, Bucky wished to have lived a normal life of maybe dying in the war or growing old and gray like Yori.

Get married, have a couple of kids, live a normal life. He understood greatly why Steve went back but he never fully forgave him for it. He felt like Steve was selfish for doing so, but isn't everyone? Steve got a normal life while Bucky had to rot in the world alone and was terrorized by his brain.

He crossed his arms, the leather making a strange sound since he gripped himself so tightly. He sat up straight, his shoulders back, his face set with a profound scowl. It forever imprinted on his face the dark scruff of a new beard growing in.

He hated how it meant uncleanliness, but he didn't have the motivation to shave it off, there wasn't a reason to anyway. He hadn't been on a date in years, centuries even.

He poked and played with his sushi that Yori said was great to try at least once. Bucky felt bad and tried a bite, he had to give credit for a thing so small having to be so spicy. That was about the first and last bite Bucky had. Since then he just jabbed at it with one of the sticks.

The other laid across the small complimentary plate with the rest of the remains of the sushi he failed to eat, he lost his appetite a few weeks ago.

He's been nursing a strong drink called Shōchū. Every time Bucky ordered it Yori said that he put an accent on it and that it made him sound like a foreigner. Although Bucky didn't know how since he was fluent but that was an argument for another day.

The employees there grew to know that they should just leave the bottle there since he usually drinks half their supply on each visit.

He just simply didn't think eating was something he needed. Recently things just seemed to bore him to the point where things that he needed to do he couldn't.

All because his brain tells him this doesn't matter. He's just lived so long from numerous life-ending things and he'd be damned if he'd kick the bucket from starvation.

"That scowl of yours is going to scare the women away," Yori spoke, breaking Bucky out of his trance. Bucky only saw the select few people around them and the women that Yori was referring to were a few older women with smiles and when Bucky turned to look they suggestively waved their fingers.

When Bucky looked back Yori smiled and waved and went back to inhaling noodles. Bucky looked at the man across from him in the small sushi restaurant he grew to know too well, they always sat in the same place a small table near the front of the glass doors.

Some posters and decorations were scattered throughout the small building. The dim lanterns gleam radiantly against the cryptic night. It rained before and the droplets of rain still reside on the windows behind Yori.

Yori slurped pounds of noodles into his mouth at a time, the residue of it was left behind on Yori's pale-white mustache. Bucky was surprised that the stick didn't break from the weight of it. Bucky's eyebrows furrowed together in thought, his posture relaxing.

He laughed inside his shoulders coming up and the side of his lips curved in a smirk. The demeanor he held was appealing from afar, (specifically to the cougars adjacent from where they were.)The conversation always breaking Bucky's previous mood, Yori was very light-hearted when he wasn't in a mood. Especially when he had food and good company. He decided to further it:

"What do you know about the ladies here that I don't?" Yori swallowed a big round lump in his throat slowly going down to his stomach, he must've had a pile of noodles in it by now.

"Well first off all, don't test my ways of making them swoon over me," Yori stated it more of a threat than a declaration. He used his chopsticks and pointed them at Bucky and a warning manner.

His eyebrows perked up and the wrinkles on his forehead worsened similar to the ones that grew on Bucky. His eyes became wide at the thought of being disrespected like the way Bucky just did.

"Second of all, you don't understand how to look without your eyes." And with that Yori chowed down once again on his bucket of noodles. Bucky couldn't perceive Yori's advice, what does seeing without your eyes even could mean?

His smirk faltered into his normal resting face which Yori liked to remark and say was the equivalent to people putting the trash into his garbage can. There was no rhyme or reason for people to do so but they just did.

Just like the way Bucky was always in a sour mood it reminded him of himself always being angry at the world because of other people.

"Have you been seeing anyone lately, if not that might be the cause of your problems," Yori spoke as if he knew everything about Bucky and maybe he could Truth it since Hydra and after being the winter soldier and Steve passing.

Bucky hadn't really been ready to mingle. He just knew he had too much baggage for a partner to put on deal with him. Every now and then when he felt completely alone he downloaded some dating app he didn't actually want and deleted it on the same night.

He had flings here and there and since he met Yori he had been setting him up on dates whether Bucky liked it or not. None of them worked out since Bucky didn't try; he was too wrapped up in his own problems to be listening to hers.

Bucky's gloved metal hand wrapped behind his neck and scratched his stubble coming back down.

"You know Yori surprisingly enough I haven't," Bucky spoke grimly and clutched his teeth. He knew Yori was going to tell him off. He winced when he heard Yori's chopsticks fall into the cup of noodles. Yori sat back into his wooden chair, his arms crossed and a displeased look came across his face.

"And why is that?" Bucky began to open his mouth "Don't give me some excuse that you always give me or this will be our last meeting." Yori stated in a harsh manner with his face twisted in that fatherly manner. "I don't understand why it's a great value to you, to know about my love life,"

Bucky spoke of it as a statement but it came out more as a question. Yori quieted and thought for a moment thinking of the proper words to say. "The stars are aligned in your favor, in which that means you should try and put effort into those small details in what is grief, if not love persevering."

Bucky sat there thinking over the things Yori told him. Bucky stretched his arm out to sip on the Shōchū. He was about a quarter way through. They'd only been there for two hours.

Since Yori met Bucky he learned that people can't always be that bad. Unless of course, you're the type who knocks over his trash can and the men don't pick it up and so it rots to hell when he fills it.

Bucky sighed and reached for the half-full glass of Shōchū. Yori never favored seeing him drink. It was too similar to him drinking when his son passed.

So Yori being Yori he made a little catapult with his chopsticks and put a small piece of noodle into his device and flicked it at Bucky. Bucky glared at him and touched the spot where it hit. Right in the middle of his creased eyebrows. The residue of the noodle followed his fingers Yori went back to eating but before he did so he gave a word to Bucky

"You're not supposed to think about how to see without your eyes. It defeats the purpose entirely if you think about it as strongly as you do, I may have some years under my belt of practicing but you are going to go nowhere soon with the troubles that live in your scowl."

He paused searching into Bucky's storm-driven eyes, Yori saw nothing that lived behind them other than sorrow. It pained Yori to see his friend in such a state.

Yori rested his hands on the table interlaced in front of him, trying to find anything worth reviving if it wasn't already killed behind Bucky's aurora. But then all of a sudden a glimmer, a spark you could say flitted inside the fellow in front of him.

Yori leaned back in his chair and smiled softly, his eyes creasing. "Ah, there it is," Yori spoke softly. Bucky confused more than he had ever been in his life questioned everything.

He had no idea what Yori was doing or as to why he endured the unwanted staring contest they just had. Then his answers were spoken by the one who created the questions.

"The way you see without your eyes is simply to be at peace with yourself, look at the moon and the stars.

They have no troubles or worries and they are the most looked at things in the entire universe no matter where you are. They see everything, yet they still choose to have no regard for the ones that judge them. For you young sir, for them to have that happiness you take that amount doubled."

Bucky scoffed that he didn't intend to be disrespectful, but how in the world was he supposed to be calm when he knew Yori's speech was literal. Yori never made jokes or metaphors, he learned that the hard way.

He uncrossed his arms for the first time since they sat down, and rested his elbows on his knees, and leaned forward in the wooden chair. He squinted his eyes, questioning Yori's statement.

He knew Yori hated to be questioned and tested, they always led to night and day-long arguments that never fully were resolved. Maybe it was the half bottle of Shōchū he drank that made him confident. He spoke rough and dry from it taking over his throat and liver.

"So let me get this straight. the only way I can find peace and happiness is if I talk to the stars and the moon? Yori, you've got to be joking." Yori grew agitated but his composure remained ever the slightest of relaxation.

Yori reached towards the back of his pants to retrieve something while glaring at Bucky and the staring contest resumed. Bucky thought for a moment that Yori was going to shoot him in point-blank range in front of the small company that was set at different tables all over the place.

Instead, Yori pulled out a small crumbling paperback book with the cover filled with stars and galaxy-type depictions and inscribed above it was

"Talking to the moon, and other astronomic casualties"

Yori sat the book gently on the side of the table he got up and before he left he looked at Bucky for a long while before turning and walking out the door. Not another word was spoken between them until the next Wednesday.

Bucky walked home that night by himself. Usually, he would walk with Yori but what happened at the sushi place he felt disturbed by. He lost his temper and he never should've.

He's been put in worse situations than thinking that Yori made him out to be a fool for believing that the stars could talk. Who knows if they do. He should've been more open-minded, he's just been riled up from the flashbacks.

Shōchū seemed to make things worse but he'd forget about things for a while. He wanted to apologize to Yori;

he severely drowned the urge. With the rest of the bottle. Yes, the restaurant let him take the rest. He had to pay handsomely. He thought it was worth it until he had to walk up the stairs to get into his apartment. He swayed back and forth mostly to the left. The arm weighed more when he was like this.

He had not a thought in mind about the world other than seeing the bottom of the clear bottle made of glass.

He tried to walk up the stairs he really did but his chunky boots made it hard to judge the height of the stairs. He got about halfway up them and then he fell. He smashed his chin against the wood and his chin started to bleed. He didn't try to stop the fall.

His right hand was occupied with the bottle. His thick scarred fingers tied around the neck of it securely. He'd kill anything that would try to take it away from him. He pushed himself up off the stair and he winced in pain when his right hand was now in the pile of glass. It fell and broke when he did.

His back burned with being indented from laying on the stairs. His chin seeped down onto the pit of his neck where his jaw formed.

He pushed slowly up off the stairs entirely putting his damaged hand behind his back. How ironic that his normal flesh is the damaged one.

He lifted off with the metal one. He clutched his wrist and pinched it tightly with the metal one.

Trying to cut off blood flow so it won't get more infected than it already had. He walked to his apartment shamefully. His head hung down low, too insecure and awkward about what happened. His jaw stern and gritted he was embarrassed.

The alcohol dimmed it but it was still a major event. He'd hit the rock bottom of an endless pit.

He dug out his key in his pocket and went inside. When he entered he always felt worse than he had left. Yet he never had a problem leaving. It always felt like he was welcomed back into a deep aurora of depression.

He stepped on the back of his boots and left them by the door. He walked to the bathroom but he stopped and turned to look at the tv. There he was again in all his glory. John Walker.

Although this time in his clutches was Steve's shield. He grew saddened by the fact Sam gave it over. He felt betrayed. Sam was the only one he knew other than him how valuable that was and John Walker out of all people had it in his possession.

He'd have a long discussion with Sam in the near future about this. He was always infuriated by John but now he couldn't put it into words. Except for the word imposterous.

Bucky felt a sharp pain in his wrist and when he looked down. He soon found that he was nearly fracturing his wrist with his metal modeled fingers. He also took into mind how deep the glass shard was. Some tiny, some huge. He cursed under his breath a soft and crude

"Fuck."

He quickly loosened his grip and shook his head in regret when he looked down to his wood floor. He realized that blood trickled from him since he opened the door.

He hastily shuffled awkwardly to the bathroom trying his hardest to not make more of a mess than he already had. He walked with long strides and his white socks dirtied from blood.

The bathroom was small, with half tiled walls and a tiled floor, beige paint covered the rest of the wall. A shower shoved to the left of him, an off-white bulb accentuated the room.

He swore to change it but he never did. A mirror and sink in front of him, the mirror was a small white rectangular one, matching the shape of the sink. Sandwiched in between the shower and sink was the smallest white toilet imaginable.

He hated going into the bathroom for this reason alone. He saw how weak he was in the mirror.

A busted bleeding wound. That crept close to the imprint that marked the middle of his chin, dark drunk eyes, shaded pink lips, sharp cheekbones accompanied with a keen jawline, scars littered across his body. His face had a few abrasions, and cheeks hidden in the scruff that continued to grow.

His hair tousled and strewn every way it pleased. He never cared about it; he never tried to style it since he'd just put his hands in it. His shoulders were clad in leather and a beige henley that matched the walls. The calmness after getting pounded reminded him of when hydra made him fight the other soldiers. Then suddenly he was there.

It was a day that Bucky would think about for the rest of his life. Bucky had a lot of those days but this one, in particular, was one that made him feel excruciating pain. The fight he was trained to lose. The compound was a dimly lit walkway in between the cells. Two would fight momentarily continuously one was declared the winner and fight the champion. Bucky or the soldier.

The commanders of hydra love to evoke fear. Seeing the men riddled with fear. Some vomit, others beg. Some are like Bucky. Ruthless. They don't care who they are or what they want to be. All they strive to be or do is fight and the blood splatter after winning against the enemy, releases stress so sometimes it's a release unless you have a guilty conscience. For Bucky, it's the latter. He has nightmares, sure, but everyone does.

Bucky had perfect posture, his head tilted into the way hydra trained him to do or to be brainwashed until he was complicit. Bright ocean eyes were unknowingly dead. The thunder of the other candidates to fight by the cells on the sidelines until it was their time to fight.

Although before they went to fight they would have a fistfight with Bucky to higher their combat skills. Bucky was the best soldier they had to let them practice on. That being said Bucky wasn't being used to his full potential. Bucky hadn't fought anyone to his skill level, everyone was either at a lower or average level. They were put into groups of two in fighting whoever won would fight either Bucky or another soldier even crueler than Bucky. Bucky had some remorse and would hold back. He still deep down was a person but the other soldier killed many from going too far. And today was the day that Bucky had to fight that soldier. Bucky had three other men for the soldier to fight until it was him, all skinny and small, scrappy.

The soldier was big and unruly. He was undefeated, sure Bucky was scared but at the compound, it's kill or be killed.

No one knew the soldier's true name, just the series of numbers he was given. His confidence may be the death of him. Bucky believed-knew that he was more than the average man. He had courage, a heart of gold, and the endurance of a bull and here he was amping himself up and nervously fidgeting wondering what would happen if he won this fight. He wondered if everyone would think of him as superior or if he'd be more of a black sheep.

He heard a crack of a hydra man yelling to start. The man in front of him was next and the one that lost had gashes to the bone and blood oozing out of places where he didn't know could.

Bucky felt exposed when the man in front of him went to fight, there was still a very long list behind him to fight but he was next up. The soldier looked at him, his demeanor felt like the grim reaper and Bucky was fixing to pay his toll.

The soldier had muscles upon muscles and as broad as one can ever be. The word powerful couldn't even describe him in the lightest.

Bucky chewed on the inside his cheek he was nervous.

The soldier was known to put the others in the infirmary for days on end and those he hurt abnormally bad gotta not fight for a while and rot in their cell until. More often than none they'd put you back out in the field.

The stories of this soldier were the type you'd tell sitting at a campfire to scare kids, instead, it was grown, men. Even if Bucky was the bravest out there he wasn't like the soldier.

Bucky observed all of his techniques and styles over the weeks. Preparing himself for his scheduled fight. It was an algorithm for the soldier to react to specific hits and counter them with the same thing over and over. The hydra men taught all of the soldiers the same moves except the one Bucky was going to go against. They knew Bucky was their best soldier so they had to at least put him in a good fight. Bucky caught on to this pattern and that made him think that he could win.

The man in front of him laid in a fetal position with mud and red splatter across his pale form, the boisterous crowd making the shame feel unbearable.

Then all of a sudden Bucky felt a harsh shove on his back. One of the hydra men shoving him into the pit with the soldier. Bucky nearly fell face forward on the cement. A burst of loud booming laughter deafened him more than the crowd on the sidelines.

The soldier crouched low and Bucky knew what he was going to do. He took out the legs then beat his component to a pulp like a gorilla. Bucky did the same stance. He looked foolish, his hair stuck to his forehead, sweat-soaked his clothes which were already tightened to his skin from the excessive working out he did. Courtesy of Hydra wanting him to be in top shape. The other soldiers grew restless as they psyched one out. They went into circles staring at one other like vultures testing who was the quickest. Whoever blinks first wouldn't blink for weeks after.

A screech came from the soldier and he came after Bucky.

Now imagine a vicious lion combined with a cyclops coming at you. Bucky psyched him out and pivoted. That just angered him more since the battles never lasted more than a couple of minutes. This one was already the longest. The soldier turned slightly and looked over his shoulder and before he could do so Bucky had gotten close enough to kick the left of his knee in and he fell. It was as loud as the thunder when he did.

Although Bucky wasn't watching his feet and the soldier took his left foot and grabbed Bucky. He fell. The roar of the other soldiers boomed. His ears went out painfully, a ringing sound, and the rain flew harshly against his face.

He couldn't move, the wind knocked out of him that he couldn't breathe. He felt ashamed to have even thought that he could win. The black ceiling littered with golden beams.

The gold reminded him of the stars behind them, how someday he could be out of this dungeon to see them again. Abruptly all the ringing in his ears came back. He heard a low hum of breathing; he thought it was his own until he saw the beast above him. The soldier grabbed his arms and Bucky struggled even through his stupor. Bucky wiggled and tried to get out from his grasp but he was a god amongst men. Bucky then thought of how Steve felt when he'd get cornered in an alley and he'd come and save Steve from being killed. But Bucky didn't get saved. The barbarian struck Bucky over and over. The nurse would later tell him that she was surprised that he didn't have any brain damage. Bucky waved in and out of reality. Every time he tried to open his eyes it'd be welcomed with a fist. Bucky spat the blood out of his mouth onto the soldier. The soldier was just too strong. He was impossible to win against. The soldier rubbed the blood into his face and laughed. He leaned to Bucky's ear only so he could hear "puny."

Bucky screamed loud. Loud enough that the neighbors awoke from their sleep and he'd sure have a lot of complaints to address in the morning. In a split second, he found himself with his fist through the mirror, the glass falling every way onto the tile into the sink and toilet. Into the already damaged hand of his, the glass poked through his palm, and through the other side, the previous glass dug deeper into his flesh.

Severing the tendons. All he could think about was the pain of having to clean everything up. He didn't feel the pain he caused himself because that didn't matter. It made him feel the least bit human. Pain. Everything living thing felt alive and once he lost that. He'd feel like a complete and utter monstrosity.

He looked up from his hand and to the mirror. Shards still hung and it displayed a perfect depiction of what Bucky was. Damaged.

Bucky spent the rest of the night with a bandaged chin that kept bleeding like a waterfall. Hw picking out pieces of glass with the smallest tweezers known to man, that too ruby red water ran down the sides of his hand onto his bare beefy thighs and pooled in the middle of his palm.

He had calmed down after a couple of hours by sitting on the bumped-out window.

He often likes sitting there and watching the city. The cars zooming past the bright casinos.

The one thing he enjoyed the most was watching the constellations and making them out to be the things he liked. Often he'd see a star in the moon and he saw the shield.

He hated that one since it put him in the pain of remembering Steve and how he had no one.

He didn't need anyone. That's what he told himself but he was very wrong. His jacket was thrown over a wooden chair in the dining area. The sleeves of his henley rolled around his elbows showing the veins in his forearms.

He changed out his jeans for a random pair of dark shorts, he threw off his dirtied socks.

To say the least, he was at comfort for the first time this week. He started to read the book a little, the pages were torn and faded. Yori must've read this multiple times.

Bucky wondered why. The book was small and petite and was only a hundred or so pages. It was interesting, it was all about philosophy, it was written as if it was a big life poem.

He hated a lot of it but here and there were a few good points. He was about halfway through the book when a paragraph struck him.

Heart. Mind. Body. Soul. Great beings of life and they can only communicate by stars. Life and everything between can be carried through them. So if you speak to the sky of night. You will often hear a reply.

He thought of it as silly but then his brain began to wonder. What if he could talk to whoever he wished dead or alive. Just from talking to the stars. It seemed too easy and childish.

Although what did he have to lose the majority of the world hated him and the other half tolerated him.

He put the tweezers down and wrapped his hand with the bandage used to box. He had leftover wrappings since he used to do dirty street fighting when he got dumped from S.H.E.I.L.D's payroll.

He picked up the book that was under his thigh, holding the book open. He held it there since that was where the most light surfaced. He didn't exactly have the expenses to pay the electric bill so he always kept it off.

His eyebrows furrowed ever close as he came across a sentence he seemed to not understand.

The book looked like it shrunk in the size of his hand. His fingers twisted and ran over the cover and the letters on the page fell off onto his lap. The shorts rode up about mid-thigh and engraved their way into his skin.

He couldn't read anymore. He sighed when he read the same paragraph twice over.

All he could think about was being able to talk to Steve. He pushed it into the back of his mind, he carried the book carelessly in his hand, the feeling an odd one since he hadn't read anything for ages.

He walked over to his little place where he slept and laid down.

The news wasn't showing anything interesting. He became quite bored. He wondered if Yori was doing okay.

Maybe he should check up on him even if they weren't on the best of terms. He drifted in and out of consciousness, he played with the wrapping of his hand to try and keep him entertained.

He sat up against his wall observing everything around him how bland and monotone everything was.

He felt a buzz in the pocket of his shorts. He begrudgingly went to grab it. He didn't know who or why they were messaging him. Whoever it knew that it was just for emergencies.

He swears that he was going to murder Sam if he sent him one of the pictures with a caption that never related to the image. Sam said that supposedly there was a joke in the caption but that just made Bucky even more confused.

Bucky didn't know why he kept the phone. He never answers it and usually, he finds out everything he needs to know by watching the news.

When Bucky did finally open his phone to see the lock screen. He stared at it in bewilderment for a long while trying to make sense as to why someone messaged him.

He noticed that it was from an unknown number. That being said there was a one in a million chance for someone to know what his number was. He sighed he was going to have to change his number again. He was surprised what the message was.

"Hey! I had a wonderful time on our date today, I was wondering if we could go on another this week? If not I completely understand I'm new to this..um..blind dating thing. I really enjoyed meeting you instead of talking to a screen! Lol! Anyway, Ttyl!"

Bucky didn’t know how or what to feel. What date? Why was she (he assumed so since the person seemed vibrant and bubbly.) So happy to see him? He didn’t even know who this person was! A thought crossed Bucky’s mind.

Perhaps he could initiate the partner she went on a date with. He wasn’t exactly busy and had a girl on his arm. He realized that if he were to go on this hypothetical date that it would be very obvious that he wasn’t the man she was interested in.

He subconsciously stood up and paced his living room to his kitchen to and fro. The soft glow of his phone illuminated his face in the dark. It was wrapped tight in his metal fingers. The yellow stripes that were like a snake coiling around his arm grew more visible.

He threw his right hand into his hair, his henley slightly rising and showing a patch of skin between the waistband of his shorts and where the sweater laid. It allowed a drooling sight of a teasing view of his defined “V” of his hip bone that flowed below his shorts.

It's been a while since he felt any blood circulate under his shorts. He didn’t understand what this girl did to him but it got him going and that was certainly uncommon under his circumstances of life.

Don’t get him wrong back in his day he was a player. Now it's lessened to nothing. Not even dates, so this could be big for him. He stopped when he concluded. What the hell did ttyl and lol mean? It took an embarrassing text to Sam and Sam merely laughed at him and told Bucky to google it. That just made things worse.

What was google? He went through every single thing on his phone until he found the icon labeled google and he did google it. ‘Talk to you later and 'laugh out loud' Oh. Bucky was embarrassed how long it took him to figure that out.

He sloppily used both of his thumbs and stood in the middle of his living room texting out a reply.

'I'm totally down to go on another date with you, sweetheart."

He was proud of himself since he remembered Sam using the word totally in a sentence before. He was confident that the confidence and the suaveness from his past never left. And then the regret started to hit him with a bat.

Why’d he called her sweetheart? What if she didn’t like to be called that. God how could he be so stupid?! He started to give up after he didn’t seem to have a reply in his future.

He sat down, crisscrossed in front of his tv and his couch, and began to swim ever so quietly in his mind. His eyes burned with strain as he watched the bright screen in front of him. A festival celebrating the new captain he nearly lost his mind until he felt a buzz against his thigh and when he looked down he saw that the mysterious girl messaged him again.

He opened his phone to find three little dots appearing and disappearing continuously. He wondered what she was writing that required that attention to thinking of what she was writing to him. He wasn’t anyone special. He was a natural disaster but that was about the unique thing about him.

He grew impatient and shifted his weight every few seconds. He was very nervous about what she was going to say. He felt like a schoolboy asking out his crush and being afraid of rejection. Lord help him because he missed feeling something other than pain. Then another buzz ran up his arm and under his spine, it was the message she sent. It was short and simple of the lines of what remembered to be:

"..."

Bucky nearly threw his phone across his apartment. But then sucked a huge breath through his teeth when another buzz went through.

"It's just no one has ever called me 'sweetheart' before."

That made Bucky feel like he wanted to crawl into the deepest darkest ice chamber and live there for the rest of his life. This was it he destroyed his life by trying to flirt with someone hundreds of years younger than him. He exposed himself and he could never redo it. He should've known that this was a bad idea.

Technically he did but he just ignored it. How could he be so idiotic to spoil his chances of getting out of this cage of death. This was the epitome of a fish drowning. He was overreacting and hyperventilating solely because he doesn't know how to flirt like the modern age. He was doomed.

His fingers resisting the strength of his mind telling him not to type out sent her the message reading:

"Do you like being called sweetheart or do you prefer doll?"

He swore he died when he saw that he sent that. SWEETHEART AND NOW DOLL? He wanted to take a steaming hot bath and maybe splurge with bubbles and fall asleep and hey maybe he'd drown.

At this point, he didn't think it wasn't that bad of an idea. He put his palms on his forehead, his knees on his thighs staring at the pitch-black rectangle below him. Impatiently waiting for her response.

An on-set headache developing from all the stress he's had under the last thirty minutes. His heart jumped at the sight of the glow lighting up his screen. He quite literally jumped out of his sin to read it:

"You have no idea. It's way better than getting called mama and shawty by the fuck boys. Lol!"

Bucky was now in the crisis of not knowing what was a shawty and an *ahem* fuck boy. It was so worrying the amount of googling Bucky has done just talking to this girl. He noted to never call her..shawty or mama and to never be a fuck boy.

When he did figure out what those things were he wasn't exactly surprised. He was jealous and angry that she'd been called things that she didn't want. The feeling was common but never this strongly. It was an odd feeling it rose from his stomach to his throat and made it dry and hard to speak.

It made him clutch the sides of his phone so harshly that webs started to hatch from within the glass. His eyes cold and dead staring at the screen reading over her sentence once, then ten times over.

A little buzz came from his phone gasping for air from Bucky choking it out with his metal hand. (You wish that was you, huh?)

"I do love how polite and gentlemanly you are tho. It's hard to find guys like you."

Such short sentences made his heart gallop so fast in minutes. The logical side of his brain kept telling him that her compliments weren't for him but the attention for someone was much louder.

Maybe his old ways of flirting were beneficial, which caused him to be more at ease. His tensed shoulders relaxed along with his metal arm. Although his body felt he was burning alive. His free hand pulled his collar off his velcro skin, letting his structured collar bones come breathable. His breathing became shallow.

"It's hard not to be when you meet someone so radiant."

He didn't even know who this girl was but all he knew is that he didn't want to lose her and become utterly alone again. Not this time. His hair stuck to his face. He was going to have to take the coldest shower ever to get rid of her and even that he won't.

"LOL, Speak for yourself, I'm nothing compared to you."

He scoffed and typed furiously, how could she think such things about herself. He was deeply frustrated he didn't know why but he felt very drawn to her. He'd do anything in his power to just want her to promise him that she'd never leave him.

God, he sounded like a psycho and maybe he was. Maybe this was his last straw and when she'd break off he would too. He was so afraid of going back to the way things were to going back to being the winter soldier that he felt like he lost his mind trying to prevent it.

"Alright doll, how about this, we meet up this Friday for dinner and a movie at nine o'clock?"

He was scared that she would reject him. Fuck. She didn't even know what he looked like. What if she took one look at him and saw past his facade and into how broken he was and decided that no. All these feelings are what drew Bucky to stop searching and to think that he was a burden to everyone. Maybe that's why he felt the only place he could be himself was when he knew that he was 100% alone.

He huffed softly and threw his head back against the couch staring up at the ceiling once again. His Adam's apple bobbed as he listened to the soft murmur of the tv. All the world's troubles put onto Steve's back for years and he gets a little tongue-tied and that was it for him.

He needed help. He needed to get better. He laughed softly, his face breaking out into creases of his tanned skin, his lips parting and his teeth glowing against the white flush. He was insane and there was no going back. He laughed at himself for what seemed like an hour until he felt the familiar buzz against his heated skin.

"Hell yes man as long as we watch sharknado!"

Bucky's smile grew more and stretched his face into a radiance that made him look like he did when he was young.

Bucky didn't know what the hell sharknado was but he was glad to know she liked him enough to go on a date with him. Bucky Barnes had a date to go on Friday and he couldn't be happier. He didn't have any nightmares that night but he'd rather have a life-ending one than what he told Yori in the morning.

It was a couple of days after the fight with Yori. Bucky finished the book the day after he read it that's why he was here along with wanting to apologize for his actions at the restaurant. He was currently sat on the wise man's couch. His son's shrine right on the small table in front of him. He bit the inside of his cheek hard and let his eyes fall elsewhere. He was ashamed to have kept this secret for so long but he couldn't find a way to tell Yori.

"Yeah, hey I murdered your son but it was fine since I was brainwashed by wanna-be nazis?" He let out a small nervous laugh and ran a hand through his hair. Yori was going to find out somehow sooner or later. Bucky just hoped it was later. He didn't want what he had with Yori to end because of his past.

"What's worrying you?" Yori said softly as he walked briskly into the living room with a cup of green tea. He sat down on the couch on the right side of the Bucky. Nearest to the door. Bucky couldn't but think Yori was in some form afraid of him since he tested him that night at the restaurant. No one ever tried to test Yori.

Bucky was different. A way that Yori wanted to understand. But Yori saw the trouble of the glass downstairs when he went to put the trash away. The brand was still visible and Yori only knew one person who drank that. Bucky. Yori figured bad things came from it.

Partly the reason since he knew what came after from drunken mishappenings. Yori sat the green tea on the brown coffee table in front of them by Bucky and put his focus back onto Bucky.

"I asked a question," Yori said softly. It seemed that Bucky was in a trance his head downward and his eyes shifting searching for something maybe an answer to Yori's question but there were so many things going through Buckys mind that it'd take months for Bucky to explain to Yori everything.

Bucky looked up to Yori with a smile but in his eyes were nothing but disaster. Yori sat uncomfortably. He was disturbed not once in the few months of knowing Bucky did not smile.

Bucky ignored the question instead "I finished the book you gave me," Bucky spoke with a waver in his voice making him sound unsure. While he reached into his pocket to grab it Yori pursed his lips.

"I didn't want you to read it I wanted you to return it to the library," Bucky's smile faltered and his eyes dimmed even darker than the way they did before. "Oh" is all Bucky said before he put the book back into his jacket pocket. He messed with the wrapping on his hand that Yori took notice of. Bucky was acting odder than usual and Yori couldn't put his finger on it.

Yori took out a scratch piece of paper and handed it to Bucky. In scratchy handwriting, Bucky assumed it was another book 'life on mars.' Then Yori spoke up "Are you going to drink your tea if not I will," Yori jabbed a finger pointing to the white cup. Bucky cleared his throat "I'm not that thirsty,"

Bucky handed over the glass cup to Yori and he glared over to Bucky and he glared back. Yori smacked his lips together after he finished. "If you're here just to have a staring contest with me, then I'm afraid you'll be here for a very long time,"

Bucky readjusted his posture and breathed roughly. "I wanted to apologize for the way I acted at the restaurant. I know I shouldn't have lost my temper at something so minor."

Bucky stopped thinking of words to say he gave up. Yori got up and left the kitchen uninterested in Bucky's apology. His son's portrait started yearning to be alive again. He stared brutally into Bucky's existence. It asked to switch position with Bucky and Bucky swore that he was out of his body and then sucked back in when Yori started to swirl a spoon around the top of the lip of the cup.

"Sugar makes green tea flavorful," Yori sat down when he was finished he swirled it into the now full cup. Bucky guessed he made a few more for later. Yori came back up to the lip and dampened it with tea it made and a remarkably loud song.

Around and around it went putting Bucky into a trance his posture regained to straight and his shoulder back head high with eyes dead. "When my son, RJ, was one he used to sing this song 'a longing rusted freight car coming to an end where it went when the furnace descended.' it was quite a beautiful song when he sang it,"

Bucky heard bits and pieces before his brain went to a mush of the activation words being said in his head. "When he was nine had a tumor and we took him to the doctor but we found out it was benign."

Bucky couldn't hear. He couldn't see. The sky was filled to the brim with stars. The moon brightened and removed his appearance from the trace of a normal eye. He stepped carefully on the roof of the building. His suit blending him into the shadows. His hair stuck to his face closing him in and disguising him more than he already is. He saw RJ through the roof's window. This couldn't have gone more perfectly. He slipped behind one of the paintings and was quiet, his breathing irregular. He heard footsteps and assumed it was RJ and punched through the painting and grabbed tightly onto the neck of the man he mistakenly thought was RJ and tossed him back into the debris of the painting. A man came after him and he quickly threw the knife from the back of his belt and plunged it into the neck of his victim. Another man slammed into the stairway when he flew out of the painting the rest of the men flew down the stairs in pursuit of fleeing the winter soldier. As they shot at him he was faster and killed them first he jumped off the stairs and threw the other spare knife at the man in front of him. An old man grey in the green leather jacket he smashed against the wall even threw metal Bucky could feel the man's heartbeat quickening and then faltering to nothingness. "Hail Hydra'' The last words the man heard as he dropped from Buckys grip to a heap of a corpse in a matter of seconds. Bucky turned to his right and watched the RJ struggle to put the key to escape Bucky. Bucky wanted to laugh at how weak and puny his attempt was to get away; he was constantly looking behind him at Bucky. Closer and closer Bucky's strides were to capture his life. Bucky's shoulder swayed a demeanor threatened with authority and anyone who dared to test it would feel the stupidity of their choice. When RJ started to beg Bucky thought that was all he had in him. Bucky didn't care. He raised his hand and straightened it perfectly matching the hilt to the RJs head.

"I KILLED RJ!" Bucky yelled standing upright. Saliva flew onto Yori when he screamed. Bucky's metal arm was tightly tied around Yori's throat. Yori was in pure terror, his eyes wide, his hands in front of him wrapped around the metal as he leaned back to get away from Bucky as he confessed to him who killed his son.

His mouth was wide in shock gasping for air. Bucky's eyes widened in horror, his mind running thousands of thoughts per second he took his hand off Yori's throat and choked on air. Bucky stared down at his metallic pitch-black hand and then Bucky ran. He ran to his apartment. Hands in his hair pacing kitchen to the living room.

What the actual fuck did he just do? He felt tears brim his eyes and he couldn't believe what he just did. He ruined everything he worked for since Wakanda. His reputation was obliterated just like that in a matter of seconds. His breathing became ragged; he managed to take off his dark black leather jacket and tossed it to the couch.

The black t-shirt he had on raised slightly from his arms being on his head. His wrapped hand tore into his skin making him even more upset from the broken mirror in his bathroom that he still didn't clean up. The memory just kept running itself over in his head he couldn't stop thinking about it. Yori's reaction.

There's no way he'd be able to repair what he did to Yori and he'd had to live the rest of his life knowing how badly he fucked up. He wanted to so badly tear this goddamn arm off with everything he had. He remembered trying the old one off that Hydra gave him it never worked. He still had the deep gashes from his nails where they latched onto his shoulder.

The scars never really healed right, instead of being in the skin, they rose like mountains from it. Bucky clutched his head tightly, his form shaking with tremors. He just kept thinking of the word stupid.

"I, John Walker. Captain America has taken the super-soldier serum and in my disregard, I feel as if there are no consequences and it should be open to the public. And in retrospect of the world, I personally think that Steve Rogers was too soft on his components and since I have taken the serum I will no longer be tolerating the life of the terrorists. That being said I will in no regard will hold back. I will do everything in my power to rid this Earth of the monsters we know until their last god-ridden breath."

Bucky lifted his head from its place hanging down into his hands, his jaw gritted tight, his nose flared, and his eyes full of fury. John Walker. He was going to kill that man one way or another. Bucky was pissed so beyond natural anger that he stood up and walked straight in front of the tv.

This man was beyond no right in having that televised. What he said could destroy the world in an instant. Who or why did he get the serum from? And Bucky was the time bomb? Bucky closed his eyes, his hands turned into tight fists, and let the image of John Walker in an interview with a lady sat across from him at John's old school burn in his mind. The white noise of the crowd cheering John's opinion made Bucky's blood boil.

Bucky thought he had calmed himself until he opened his eyes he saw John look into the camera and point.

"The world would be a better place if there were more brave soldiers like me."

Bucky reared his metal fist back and pounded the tv until the screen was ridden of John Walker's face. Bucky came to the idea that when he got another tv maybe he shouldn't watch the news for a while. Glass fell on the table and pieces on the wood floor by his feet.

He fell to his knees. His knees cracked from all his weight on them with no support. His knees being crushed by the glass. His hands hiding his face from the world.

His cheeks and face grew warm from how he felt. His nose burned when tears started to fall ever so gently down his cheeks. Grey eyes becoming the most vibrant of blues. He choked softly, his throat closing as he sat there in the middle of his destroyed living room. His apartment is the greatest amphitheater in the world.

His shoulders rising and falling and stuttering when he gagged on air. He parted his hands from his face and sat upright. His hands fell into fists, his arms tensed and the veins in his neck pulsed when he let out a blood curdling scream. It was a long screech filled with his voice cracking his vocal cords giving upon him.

His tears despite his yelling still fell and stained his cheeks. He thought so many things at once and everything involved him being a monster. He was hurt and this was the worst self-harm. The arm was given to him and the brain that wasn't his own.

He decided that he needed to go on a walk to calm himself down. Maybe he'd go and return Yori's book. All he knew is that the world for Bucky Barnes was getting darker and worse by the day. Who knows how long until he loses who he is. But one thing was for sure. It wasn't going to be for long until he does.

He stayed home for the rest of that day. It was in the evening when he had gotten home from Yori's. He was still greatly upset by what happened. He couldn't think about it until he grew angry with a suicidal rage. He was alone. All over again the monster that kids are scared to go to sleep over.

He sat by the window again just in the same random shorts and no shirt out of fear of coating it in sweat. It was the least of his problems but it was still a burden. He wished he had something to listen to, his thoughts were so loud that he was surprised that mind readers didn't go deaf from it. He watched the people below him walk past the building complex.

Not batting an eye at the monster in the window above them. He wanted to laugh at how normal people were and how he was once like them but now turned into this creature. His shoulders broad and held his form up by the sides of his sculpted waist.

His legs crossed over another he leaned against the wall that joined the window in the corner. He sat across from the kitchen. His stomach growled at the thought of food, the last time he could remember eating something was at the restaurant and that was just a nibble. It wasn't like he could eat something. He never splurged on food, all the food he had was fruit sitting in a white complimentary bowl on the middle of the island.

He pushed his head against the wall swallowing thickly debating whether he should or not. He decided he didn't deserve it after what he's done. Disrupted from his thoughts he felt a buzz on his thigh in the pocket of his shorts.

He fished out the stupid little box and saw that it once again another text from Sam. He's been ignoring them since he's had Sam's contact; he deemed them not worthy of a response. They were all on the lines of are you okay? Bucky smiled at something so incredulous. He started typing out

Yeah. Just losing my mind but other than that I'm just fine. But went against it. When he read more of the missed messages one did pique his interest. Did you hear about the rumor of Steve being on the moon? Bucky's eyebrows furrowed and his face contorted. What? How could Steve be on the moon? Sam and he literally watched Steve grow old in front of them. How absurd to say that Steve was on the moon. But when Bucky thought more of it, it reminded him of what he read in the book.

Talk to the stars and they'll talk back. Bucky groaned in annoyance. Was this what he was resorting to in a desperate measure for interaction? Talking to inanimate things. He let out a deep breath his chest rose then fell shortly after. He closed his eyes imagining Steve back in Brooklyn and all the mischievous things they did.

He remembered the day Steve got rejected and then Bucky being deployed the next day. The day that started it all. The downfall of Bucky's life. Bucky didn't know what he would say to Steve but he thought he started out well enough.

"Do you remember when we were kids and we'd always have to act like we were soldiers because of you. God Steve even when we were kids you had your mind made up. Always wanting to be something when I couldn't even choose what cereal I wanted,"

Bucky stopped and thought over the words he said. It was true. Steve was always headstrong about everything he wanted. Bucky remembered that Steve was going to create this comic of this monkey who shot bananas out of a bazooka. And Steve did.

It never took off or anything it was just the thought of if anything Steve wanted he would never stop until he got it.

While Bucky always had his priorities elsewhere, the majority of the time he made Steve do his homework so he wouldn't fail. Two opposite people were the best of friends, who knew that one of them would turn out to be the villain.

"You know Steve I enlisted because I felt like I had to prove something, I had to prove that I was better at something than you. Just that one thing I ended up not even being better than you at."

Bucky's voice was dry and raspy when he spoke. The screaming fried his throat when he talked. It burned like a good bottle of Shōchū.

He'd kill for a bottle right now. He was starting to understand that this wouldn't work but he grew angrier at the thought of Steve trading him out for some girl. Bucky knew how much Peggy mattered to Steve but he still never got why he'd trade him out for her. He was jealous in a sense over the life Steve got.

"If I could I would change places with you in an instant, to be at peace. You got to live your life and I had to decay for years without my best friend. Maybe this was for the best so you couldn't see me become who I am now. Someone that we swore to never be ever since we were kids, the bad guy."

Bucky chewed on his lip after that. Til the end of the line his ass. Bucky ran his hand through his hair, the strands comforting his hand. He got up from the window and walked over to his little bed and went to sleep. The night's toll took everything out of him.

The only thing he currently wanted was this thing he had with this girl to be good. How wrong he was.

He decided that he was going to go and return the book Yori gave him. He still hated what happened and he knew trying to fix it would make it worse. The least he could do is get him the book he wanted. So Bucky put on his washed-out jeans, his shirt he wore yesterday, shrugged on his jackets and slipped his feet into his boots, and a black glove to hide his metallic arm, and went to the Library.

The library was a little old place with the roof caving in not far from the complex building. He wondered why Yori didn't just go and get it himself, Bucky didn't really care about having to go but he just wanted to know if Yori was okay and doing well.

Bucky went down the stairs and found a few remaining pieces of the glass bottle he broke last week. The memory of him falling and breaking it etched in his mind vividly. He felt a chill run up his spine at the feeling of someone seeing him like that.

He hurried down the last of the stairs and opened the glass door and went outside. The warm air wafted itself around him in a soft summer breeze. It was warm but not hot enough for him to go without a jacket and the chilly breeze lightened it up. It felt relaxing since he forgot how long it's been outside of his apartment.

He took long strides on his walk. But he couldn't shake the paranoia of being stalked. He was about halfway when he saw a shadow mock him. He walked faster not wanting to have to deal with this today.

The other person's shadow grew larger and bigger as Bucky walked further. When Bucky saw the library and a few he nearly bolted to the building. When he was inside he saw that it was just a lost dog. He was losing it. He sighed his mind relaxing and then jolting when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

"Hey, are you okay mister?"

A warm voice made his heart pump faster than it already was he felt like he was going to have a heart attack. When he turned around he was met by easily the most beautiful girl. It was you. He thought in that instant that everything about you was perfect the way your eyes looked at him, the way your face was adorable, the way your hair fell behind your ears, the way your lips looked the most perfect shade along with your eyes. He promised himself when he got home that he'd paint his whole apartment that color.

He went cross-eyed from staring at the shape of your lips and how they shaped around the words he couldn't hear from being so entranced by you. He started to feel his heartbeat out of his chest. When he thought of how you'd look with pretty lips wrapped around him and dull bedroom eyes looking up at him through thick eyelashes. He needed to stop, he just met you and now he's so hard against his jeans that he was sure that he was bruised.

And your hands on his shoulders shaking him wasn't helping him. His trance was broken when he realized what was happening. "Huh?" That is all he managed to make out through his lust-clouded mind. You did this face that made him die, it was when your eyebrows furrowed and your lips went to one side pursed together. Your eyes were cut at him and he knew he was in trouble but he just couldn't help being enticed by you.

"I asked if you needed help," You stopped and wagged a finger in his way "You're all sweaty." He looked down at himself and you were right, his hair stuck down and his shirt showed pools. Shit. Way to embarrass yourself, Buck. You're sweaty, you're horny for some girl you just met. He was a trainwreck embodied. "I'm okay, it's just the heat," Bucky spoke with uncertainty. He had no idea what was happening why he was acting like this. He usually never felt like this around a girl, especially one he just met.

Your face was still cut, your lips went back into the fullness of how they are naturally. "Weird but okay." You spoke under your breath since it wasn't sweating weather outside. You were going to be the death of him and thankfully there were only a couple of other people in the library since it was the morning of a weekday.

"There's a cool spot where the ac is over there." She turned and pointed towards the left somewhere. He couldn't concentrate in the slightest even if he tried. And god your body from just the standard shirt and jeans you wore he felt his turn into skinny jeans.

"But anyway if you need me just yell, its y/n." And you left and when you walked away to assist someone else he got the perfect view of your ass. He scurried into the thick of the bookshelves and triple-checked if anyone was around him and adjusted himself.

It was so painful to not jump your bones right there. He rubbed his face with his hands and groaned. Get it together Buck. He realizes that he was going to have to go and talk to you again since he had to check the book in. He mentally stabs himself in the neck.

He calms himself down enough so that he could talk to you again. He feels like a prepubescent boy talking to his crush. Bucky guessed that he lost his cool with talking to girls over the years since he stopped. This was hell. You were at the front desk, the one in front of the door. You were reading some book that he didn't know.

He took a moment to admire the way your hair frames your face, the way your ass jutted out so you could lean over the desk on your forearms. Your free hand, the one not holding your page was used as a support beam for your face under your chin. God you were so beautiful, he hooked his finger under the collar of his shirt and started to flick it back and forth to generate air.

He was the human-dog drooling over a mate. He hated himself for not getting to know you and he already felt like this towards you. He was a monster but he wasn't impolite; he drew the line there. He was in the clouds that he didn't notice you staring at him with squinted eyes. "Can I help you, sir?" Your voice hung on sir in his mind.

He couldn't help but envision you beneath him moaning sir. "Uh, yeah, there's this book" He startled himself when his voice croaked out a response. He patted the pocket of his jacket and had a crisis when he thought he left it at home. But when he shoved his hands into his pocket he let out a smile of relief and grabbed it and slid it over to you on the other side of the desk.

"I need you to check that in and then" He stopped and searched for the piece of paper Yori gave him. He found it crumpled as lint in the bottom of his other pocket and the words faded. "Shit, uh, and check out this." He shoved his hands in his pocket and looked at his feet afraid of confrontation. You silently grabbed the book and checked it in and grabbed the note. You couldn't make out a single letter. Your eyebrows pinched together and when he looked up quickly and then darted his eyes away. He knew that you couldn't.

He wanted a sinkhole to open up and swallow him whole. You scratched the back of your neck trying to decipher the note "I can recommend something similar to the book you turned in, I'm sorry but I can't read this." You spoke with sincerity. And walked out behind the desk and poor Bucky followed you like a lovesick puppy.

You cursed Jordan, another employee for putting the desired book on the top shelf. The bookshelves were very tall and you weren't short but you weren't 7' foot either. You pinched your nose shutting your eyes and put a hand on your hip. "Do you see the book at the very top with the red back?" You muttered and Bucky looked up and saw the issue. "Do you want me to grab it for you?" Bucky looked at you with the softest eyes and you couldn't help but admire them.

You shook your head and lord you were about to melt. His body was brushed up against yours, you could've moved but you really didn't. You could feel the texture of his jacket against your soft skin and you cursed yourself for blushing. He took notice and let a small smile creep on his face when he handed you the book and your head was hung low when you walked back behind the desk.

Bucky guessed that he didn't completely lose his effect on girls. When you were checking out the book he noticed the book you were reading. It was The hobbit. He actually enjoyed the book when he read it when it first came out. He didn't take an interest in fantasy and so he shrugged it off until he actually read it.

When you stamped the books inside the page and slid it back. Bucky smirked "You know they all die in the end." The pure confusion on your face was amusing and with that, he left.

When he got home he started to feel the metal of his arm become rusted and thinking back it had been a while since the last time he cleaned it. He was wanting it to fall off so bad that he forgot he actually needed it.

He wondered where the girl went that texted him before. He didn't want to bother her by texting her first that to him was unnatural. It didn't bother him that much since he used to. And that the date was tomorrow so she would either show up or not and he'd suffer the consequences either way.

He went to the bathroom to grab the grease and a rag he uses every time in the cabinet under the sink.

He stopped shortly catching himself in the shattered mirror. The bandage on his chin began to fall off God forbid it started to at the library. He took it off slowly, the hair of his stubble getting caught in the crossfire. There was a bright pink little scar where the gash was. His skin healed relatively fast but it never cured the scars. He figured if his chin was healed that his hand should be.

He unwrapped his hand slowly for some reason he was scared of what it looked like. When he finally finished unwrapping his palm was littered with scars ranging in size. He touched the scars to see if they hurt with his metal hand and nothing.

Just a scar.

Bucky grabbed the grease and took off his jacket and boots and the first time he moved in he sat on the couch.

It was stiff as ever and it never got out of the store phase. He poured some grease on the white rag and it turned brown and he started to put it in the creases where he noticed it too slow. His mind ran back to you that never happened to him. God he was caught red-handed too, he'd have to take a very long and cold shower when he was done cleaning his arm. The rest of the evening all he could think about was what would happen tomorrow and how he'd destroy the girl of his dreams.

Bucky spent Friday constantly checking his phone for two reasons.

1) to see if his admirer would message him and

2) always checking the time.

He honestly couldn't wait; it's been forever and he was excited about something new. For change. The only source of entertainment he had was the book he checked out earlier. It wasn't the book he was supposed to get. The book in contrast was called American Psycho.

Bucky was about halfway and he fairly enjoyed it. Although it disturbed him since he found similarities in himself with Patrick Bateman. Bucky laughed at all the dark jokes and liked all the points where Patrick lost all sanity; it was the highlight of the book.

Bucky flipped one of the knives carelessly in the hand that wasn't occupied by the book. Bucky loved the power a single knife had. A single slip of the wrist could end something as fast as it began. Time flew by when simple hobbies turned into jobs. He cursed himself because it was seven o clock and he had only an hour to go to the restaurant which was the sushi place that he and Yori used to eat at.

He texted the directions to the girl, he grabbed his glove and jacket and shoved the knife in the back of his belt and fled down the stairs and out the door, and ran the rest of the way.

You sat at the small petite table, your phone clutched in your hand carefully watching the time. When it turned to 8:55 your gut twisted. Maybe he didn't like you as much as you liked him.

The waitress came by once again asking if everything was okay and if you'd like to eat and each time and you'd have to politely decline. You crossed and uncrossed your legs, they grew numb from you sitting in the wooden chair for the past hour. You didn't know what to wear so you opted for a sleek white dress and some heels.

You hoped you didn't overdress and make the wrong impression. You sipped on your water looking through the window to find any hint of your lover boy. You knew what to look for since you knew who it was. But maybe he didn't come and you were set up. How embarrassing this was. Yori told you that he was stubborn but he seemed pretty into you at the library. You know Yori through Leah, an employee at the restaurant who was a friend of yours.

She promised you that she would pay for your meal every time you ate there. How could you refuse? You sighed and began to get up and leave since you thought Bucky gave up on wanting to go on the date. You quickly sat down when you heard the bell of the door ring open and then there he was in all his glory.

Bucky Barnes, in the same leather jacket but you couldn't believe how good he looked underneath the dim light. His bandages were now gone and his face was sullen and structured from the shadows that made his face deepen. You smiled your ruby lips catching Bucky's attention and he hadn't seen something so pleasing to the eye in ages. Although he was confused since he didn't know that it was you who he was texting was there something going on that he didn't know about?

He pulled out the chair and sat across from you with his face stern. "Why didn't you tell me it was you that I was talking to?" He spoke slowly and his head tilted in question like a puppy's. "Yori told me about how you are with dating and he was afraid of you always being alone, and he gave me your number, I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

You fiddled with your fingers when you talked you were nervous about his reaction. You knew all about Bucky's reputation and embarrassing enough growing up you developed a crush on him, so you jumped for this opportunity.

You loved how strong and brave he was and even though he was brainwashed you thought of him as a good person. He chewed on the inside of his cheek thinking of what were the right words to say. "Just no more secrets from now on." With that, he waved down the waitress for a bottle of Shōchū.

After the half, the bottle was gone you couldn't help but be in wonder from how he managed to be able to drink all that meanwhile you were still sipping on your first shot. Every sip you took you gagged and your face turned into a kid who took their first sip of alcohol which made Bucky laugh.

Dinner was going along nicely there were many jokes and stories shared but Bucky couldn't help but be skeptical of how this could work. Bucky was severely messed up and couldn't care for another. He wanted to but he was just incapable, maybe he could just live this lie and things could be normal.

When they called for closure Bucky finished laughing at some remark you made, you and he were sat there talking for a couple of hours. It was just so easy to talk to him. Although you did notice a few times he would wince in pain and put his face in his hands. You thought it was odd but shrugged it off from his excessive drinking. Speaking of the devil he asked

"Do you want to go to my place. There have been complications with my tv so we can't watch a movie, but I can keep you company." You smiled a drunken buzz of Shōchū. Not nearly did you drink as much as Bucky but it was still written across your features. Your face flushed pink and your body made of jello hung off of Bucky's arm the whole walk to his house and Bucky every now and then had to pick you up.

Bucky didn't want to do anything rash to you but in the back of his mind, something kept itching it made it so painful that he couldn't ignore it. It kept making him shake his head and wince it was like a headache but much more painful. When he got into his apartment you took notice of what he meant by complications of a totaled tv. You shed off your heels and sat on the tv nervous to be in Bucky's house, your form off-putting to Bucky.

He sat down across the couch from you and he became hurt by you sitting so far away from him. "Are you scared of me or something?" He spoke grimly staring at the floor, his face holding no emotion to his words. "What? no!" You were shocked by his words. How could he assume that you were scared of him? Bucky looked your way and a strange look appeared in his eyes.

"Then why are you sitting so far away from me?" He gritted his teeth and his hands turned into fists, they were clamped tightly together on his thighs and this side of Bucky did scare you. He wasn't Bucky, he looked like him but his whole persona changed in the span of minutes. You wondered if it was something you said or did.

You became fearful when he fell off the couch onto his knees his head clutched in his hands. He started to scream not like the ones before this one was full of pain and torment. The moon's light made this scene unfold a lot more sinister. What was happening to him, why was he acting this way? Then all of a sudden he grew very quiet nothing could be heard other than your breathing.

You were confused and scared but you did care for Bucky and in his position, you assumed he was in serious need of help. You walked carefully taking notice to not step loudly to provoke him. You crouched down your dress falling over your feet, you reached your right hand out hesitant towards Bucky.

You stayed with your hand on his shoulder

"Bucky?"

You whispered softly, scared to disturb him. Everything was at ease at a calm one that felt too unrealistic.

That was true because a few seconds later Bucky grumbled out

"Who the hell is Bucky."

He slung around his body twisted and grabbed a knife from the back of his belt and stabbed you straight into the heart with it. Before you could even have time to run it was over.

The white of your dress now became a soaking deep red. The way your eyes forever open to the moon the way the moon took your life. And that day was when Bucky Barnes lost his sanity and forever came the winter soldier.

*A few months later*

She sat with her legs crossed, her hair tied up perfectly.

Her posture evenly to the ceiling while sitting. The only one that a soldier would perfect. She read over his portfolio over and over to get every last detail to stick in her mind so she wouldn't forget.

She breathed heavily finishing the last sentence. She took off her glasses and shut the case file on her lap, and put her right elbow up on the white seat, her glasses in the same hand.

She pursed her lips staring at the man in front of her and sat on the white couch in front of a forest mural. He was in all black a blank face, his hair a little longer and his stubble now thicker.

He played with the pink protruding scar on his right hand. Pushing and watching the blood rush to it. She wrote that in the notebook.

When he caught notice he stopped and tilted his head slightly. He narrowed his eyes and stared at her.

He was convicted of third-degree murder and numerous accounts of other convictions.

She thought over all the things that were stated in the portfolio but what struck her the most was that he drank excessively and faked being drunk just to feel

"more human."

She thought of a way to form a sentence to not upset him about what he's telling her to see if what he recollected matched what was in the documents but there was no easy way to do that.

She listened to him finish the last of what he was telling her:

"And that's how the story ended."

Fin.

#bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barns x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader angst #angst #fluff fic #fanfic #writing #marvel #marvel fic #mcu fanfiction #mcu spoilers #the falcon and the winter soldier #sam wilson #tfatws #bucky barnes #steve rogers #yori nakajima #suhi #library #flirt dates #wrong number #fluff #dialogue prompt #ship tropes #sebastian stan

[jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav]

Obey Me: The Brothers Accidentally Trigger an Abused MC (Asmodeus) (5/7)

Disclaimer: I’m not an expert on abuse or mental health. I’m not portraying how one should respond to these situations, only how I think the characters might. Abuse and trauma in particular are very complex topics, and people respond in all sorts of ways to them, and sometimes it gets really bad on all sides.

I can only draw from my personal experiences as well as those of people who have shared their stories or who I’m close with. There’s no one narrative of abuse and how it affects someone, so what I’m familiar with might not be what you’re familiar with. Let’s try and all be respectful of each other.

Content Warnings: Heated arguments, reference to past abuse, parental abuse, trauma response, breaking down in tears, this is quintessential hurt/comfort y’all, buckle up, mentions of alcoholism and abuse of alcohol as well as child neglect

I know abuse is never an easy or light subject, but this also has the added issue of addiction and alcoholism, so I’d like to add a second disclaimer here: addicts are not inherently abusive. If you or someone you know struggles with an addiction to anything, that doesn’t make you a monster or a bad person. I want to make it as clear as possible the problem here is neglect, and MC’s personal triggers related to alcohol, not a grand statement about addiction.

Now then... HERE IT IS! The long awaited fifth entry in this very angsty series. I’d say, “Don’t worry, things will pick up from here!” but uh... I don’t know what to do for the twins, sooooo... I’m not gonna make any promises about timing, but it Is Coming.

Lucifer (X) Mammon (X), Leviathan (X), Satan (X), Asmodeus (you are here), Beelzebub (X), Belphegor (X)

The flashing lights. The sea of sweaty, stumbling bodies. Music that pounds in their ears and shakes their bones. The miasma of a thousand perfumes and colognes failing to cover up the smell of drunken debauchery and things MC doesn’t want to think about. For the first time during their stay in the Devildom, it really feels like Hell.

But this is where Asmodeus thrives. MC sees him on the dance floor now, a gaggle of admirers all but clawing at each other to get closer to him. His cheeks are flushed, from exertion or alcohol no one can say, all sinuous movements and fluttering eyelashes. A demon- a concubus maybe? - is stroking along his upper pair of wings and saying something that makes him grin lavisciously in response. He looks at home here. In his element. Happy.

No sudden drops in energy followed by artificial cheerfulness to disguise the slip-up. No befuddled stares when he thinks they’re not looking. No boring plans with MC to worry about cancelling again. 

They should be used to this. They’ve always been a bother to everyone around them, not even their own parents wanted to spend any more time with them than absolutely necessary. More nights than not, they’d carry home the stench of the bar back with them, and MC knew they’d be paying their bus fare with the change from recycled bottles once again. 

Ugh, why did they let him talk them into this? They’re so stupid, this is how it goes every single time, they can’t go anywhere fun, all because of that smell-

Someone calls their name, enthusiastic but slurred. MC turns around on their barstool and comes face to face with Asmodeus, in all his lipstick-smeared glory. 

“MC!” he repeats, drawing out the syllables in their name. “What are you doing all the way over here? Come dance with me, silly!” 

He paws at where he thinks their shoulder is, missing and settling for the front of their shirt instead. He tugs them off their seat and they stumble into his arms. His hands wander and the lights are flashing and he smells like perfume and cologne and that damn smell of alcohol-

MC shoves the Avatar of Lust as far away as they can, yelling, “Get OFF of me!”

On any other day, Asmo would have a) not been phased by the panicked shove of a mere human, and b) recognized the distant look in MC’s eyes as they glared through him. But tonight his blood is more Demonus than anything else so he goes flying back into the crowd. They absorb and push him back onto his feet as one, the membrane of a world he can no longer return to.

All he can think is he came here with MC, because of MC, because they make him feel something exhilarating and terrifying all at once and he’s scared. (Scared he’s too much, scared he’ll push them off, scared he’ll hurt them, scared they’ll hurt him, he wants them close, so close too close please don’t leave-) 

He just wants to have a good time, he thinks. That’s all it is. That’s all they are. Except now they’re looking at him like that and he wants to help, wants to forget, too close too close too-

“Fine,” he spits, adjusting the roses on his top as he struggles to remain standing. “I can have more fun without you anyway. Go back to the House of Lamentation if you’re gonna be such a stick in the mud.”

He wishes they’d curse at him. Keep yelling, shove him again. Tell him to fuck off and never speak to them again.

Instead their eyes well up with tears and they run past him into the crowd until they reach the exit of The Fall.

###

MC: Is anyone awake?

Mammon: I am now! Why’re ya texting at 3AM?! Some of us are trying to sleep!

Satan: You’d have an easier time sleeping if you didn’t leave your ringer on whenever MC is outside the House.

Mammon: >:O

Mammon: I DO NOT!!!

Leviathan: what are you normies doing spamming the groupchat

Leviathan: im trying to watch My Demon Boyfriend Can’t Articulate His Emotions Properly So He Compensates By Acting Like A Total Jerk But I Still Love Him? 

Leviathan: but i keep getting interrupted by these notifs!!!! 

MC: I’m outside The Fall.

Mammon: ALONE?!

Satan: No, Asmo has to be with them.

Leviathan: lol mammon’s simping so hard rn

MC: He’s not...

Mammon: HE LEFT YA A L O N W ?! 

Mammon: IM CMOIGNCONEESC

Satan: ...I will go with. 

Satan: Expect us there soon MC. Stay safe.

Leviathan: text me when you find them! 

Leviathan: Guys?

Leviathan: …

Leviathan: stupid normies…

###

It’s Mammon who stays with MC. Satan quickly checks in with them, making sure they aren’t physically hurt, but seeing their bloodshot eyes and shaking hands spikes his already flaring temper. He apologises and promises he will return shortly, before storming into The Fall, magical flames licking at his silhouette.

MC is curled up on the steps to the club, hugging their knees. Without a word, Mammon takes off his jacket and drapes it over their shoulders. They start at the feel of the soft leather and look up at him in confusion.

“Why are you doing this?” they ask.

Mammon blinks at them owlishly. He gestures to their current position, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to figure out how to start his sentence, before saying, “You- I- He just- You said you were out here alone! A-and then we come find you, and you’re crying in the cold! What’d ya think we were gonna do, drag you home and dump you in your room?” He blushes fiercely as he scoffs.

MC doesn’t meet his eyes as they mumble, “Kinda… S’what everyone else does…”

If it weren’t for the muffled sounds of fireballs and curses being thrown around in the club, Mammon would say he temporarily became the Avatar of Wrath right then.

“Well then those people are a bunch of scumbags!” He taps MC’s chin so they look into his eyes. “You don’t deserve that, MC. I don’t know what my stupid brother said to you or did to you that made you this upset, but I’ll be…” He pauses. “...even more damned than usual if I let you think you deserve whatever he did.”

MC sniffles as their eyes well up again, this time for a different reason. Mammon’s ears burn. He blinks back what are most certainly not tears, and holds out a hand to MC-

Just as the doors to The Fall open and two familiar faces are thrown out by a very large and very annoyed looking demon.

Satan wastes no time. “Apologize. Now,” he demands from the floor, tail thrashing as he rights himself.

Asmodeus, charred, bloodied, and disheveled as he is, can barely get his hands under him, let alone upright. He glares up at the Avatar of Wrath, something vicious and ugly dancing in his eyes. He spits at his brother, blood staining his lips red. Satan lunges at him, claws extended, but Mammon is faster.

He separates the younger demons with ease and stands between them, arms outstretched. “Enough! I don’t care what you do later, but right now we’re taking MC home!” His tone leaves no room for debate. 

The walk to the House of Lamentation is silent.

MC wakes up to the pinging of their D.D.D.

###

Asmodeus: please come to my room

Asmodeus: i would go2u

Asmodeus: but I think if i get up now i wilk not make it to ur room

Asmodeus: evertyhign is so bright

Asmodeus: imcsorry 

###

    He’s typing more, but MC decides they’ve seen enough.

They pad over to Asmo’s room, still in pajamas and comfortable slippers. They don’t even have to flick the lights on to know something is wrong. His normally pristine bedroom is a mess. Clothes and bedsheets are strewn about as though a miniature tornado blew through his closets, and in the middle of it all sits Asmo himself, cocooned in a blanket, identifiable only by a shock of peachy curls.

MC calls his name and he springs to life, jumping up to greet them before unceremoniously falling off his bed in a tangle of fabric. They almost smile at the sight, but remember why they came here and stay in the doorframe. 

“You actually came,” Asmo says in a scratchy whisper. He looks up at them and MC sees last night’s partially removed makeup smeared all over his face. His bloodshot eyes water.

“You look awful,” they reply and curse themself internally. What a way to start fixing things, MC.

To their surprise Asmo laughs, an uncharacteristically cynical edge to it. They giggle too, and it’s not long before the pair are both howling on the floor. The tension almost dissipates, until Asmo’s voice hitches and suddenly he’s crying again. 

“It’s only fair, right?” he says, voice wavering. “I-It should m-match the inside, no?”

“Asmo…”

“Don’t!” he cries, shushing MC with a finger. “There is no excuse for what I said last night!”

“You were very drunk…”

“I shouldn’t have been!” He processes what he just said. “I shouldn’t have- I was supposed to watch over you! You were all alone in there and I just-”

“I shouldn’t need a babysitter. It’s not your fault I’m such-”

MC doesn’t get to finish their sentence on account of a bruising hug from a still-blanketed Asmodeus. 

“Shut up,” he says, and it’s their turn to start blubbering as he continues, “I don’t know who made you start thinking like that, but you are not a bother, or a burden, o-or boring, or anything like that!” He loosens his grip on them so he’s just holding their arms. “MC, what I said yesterday was completely untrue and totally uncalled for. I… I can’t take it back, but I’ll do anything in my power to make it up to you, I promise.”

MC doesn’t meet his eyes for a long moment.

“Tell me what’s been bothering you,” they ask.

“Huh?”

“Don’t pretend with me anymore, Asmo. Something’s been bothering you the past couple of weeks. Tell me what it is, and I’ll see if I can forgive you.”

“...Only if you tell me what got you so upset before… you know…”

“...Deal.”

They leave him on read and refuse to speak to him. At first he’s pleading, apologetic, chasing them down at RAD or in the halls of the House of Lamentation when his brothers aren’t around. They finally give in on a deceptively warm afternoon in the courtyard outside RAD.

“What do you want?” MC snaps, half turned away from the demon in question even as they stop speed walking. 

“Please, can we ta-”

“I think you’ve said enough, no?” They rattle off a list on their fingers, “I’m boring, I’m whiny, a prude, a stick in the mud, I need to get over myself… Do I need to keep going or have  I gotten through that thick skull of yours?” 

Asmo says nothing. 

“I’ve done this before, Asmodeus. I get it. I’m easy to take advantage of. That’s why you put up with me for so long, right?”

“That’s not-”

“Save it. I saw the looks on your face when we were together. You were humoring me. Honestly, if it wasn’t for that night at The Fall, I probably would have let you do it even longer.” They take a deep breath. “But- I can’t… I’m not your priority. That’s fine. But I made a promise to not let this happen again. So… Stop chasing me down. I’m not interested.”   

It takes him over a week to accept that MC isn’t budging, and another to convince himself that they’re just being stubborn.

Who wouldn’t want to spend time with him? He’s the darling of the Devildom, the Avatar of Lust, the jewel of Heaven - or at least, he was- he’s irresistible! So one human threw a fit out of nowhere at The Fall, whatever.

They’re not worth his time. 

That’s why he’s out clubbing so much now. It’s a better use of his time.

A less painful use of his time.

If he can’t remember the nights they’re not with him, do they even count?

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me! asmodeus #obey me shall we date #obey me: shall we date #mine #my writing #asmodeus

[johnismyreason]

Hell on Earth (TWO) // KOH!TOMHOLLAND X HUMAN!READER

Summary: Tom, Prince of Hell and only heir to the throne, is sent to Earth by his parents as a punishment. He ends up in an odd city full of the worst humans, except one, who, despite not knowing who he truly is, decides to help him.

Note: Well, well, well... It’s been a while. I’m sorry but a lot of things happen and honestly I wasn’t in the mood to write anything. Anyways, I hope I didn’t loose everyone was reading the first part of this Koh!Tom series. Let me know what you thought and if you have ideas for next chapters. And send me an ask to be added to the taglist :) Love you ! 

words: 2.3k

Warnings: panic attack, cursing, fluff-ish?, bad english bc im french 

First part

Tom was so nervous. How the hell was he going to tell you where he is from. He doesn’t have much time to think about it, since you seat in front of him. “Here you go” you said, placing the tuna sandwich and a cup of coffee before his hands. Seating down, you create a slight draft, giving Tom the chance to breath your smell. Honey and apple. Not too sugary, not too strong but present enough to be under your spell for a spilt second. 

“Thank you” Tom said taking a bite in the sandwich. The taste of tuna on his tongue repulses him but he fakes a smile “’S really good” he lied his mouth full, before swallowing with a hard gulp. 

“I’m glad you like it” you smile back laying down a bit, your elbow on the table and your hand in a fist holding your chin. “So... what’s going on, Tom ?” the sound of his name on your lips makes it hard for him to concentrate. It almost sounds like a prayer or a blessing, instead of the curse he always heard when his father called him. 

“Right,” closing his eyes and shaking his head, Tom tried to regain his composure “Um, here’s the thing. I don’t have anywhere to go. My parents kind of kicked me out” You blinked a few times trying to process what he just said. You’re surprised and shocked, you didn’t expect that at all. 

“What ? W-why ?” you let your hand that was supporting your head, fall on the table, a few inches from his. 

“Uh...” now is the tricky part. Tom has to think fast but coherent. "I was not the best son” he confessed. By the confused look on your face, the prince of Hell understood that it wasn’t enough of an explanation “I- uh. I didn’t take my responsibilities seriously and partied too much. So I fucked up everything.” Tom felt shame thinking about the look on his parents’ faces before being banned. “Basically, if I want to come back home, I have to change. Like, everything about me must be changed” Tom let his head fall forward, to avoid your gaze. 

His head snapped back up when he felt your reassuring hand on his wrist, the veins of his heart loosened at the sight of your compassionate smile. 

“I’m sure not everything is good to put in the bin” you said softly. 

“How would you know ?” Tom almost whispered. “You don’t know me”

“I can see it. The good.” you replied pointing at his heart. “You’re just lost. You’ve done some mistakes, what about it ? A few of them doesn’t make you a bad person. We're not perfect. We’re just humans after all.”

“I’m not-” Tom cut himself from dropping his secret. But it hit him. We’re all humans. He’s human now. The loss of his powers, the bangs in his head after drinking the whole night away,... His parents made him human. Suddenly, Tom feels a rush of panic invading him. He starts looking around nervously, his palms become clammy and his madness takes control. Fuck, is what being human feels like ? Feeling weak and pathetic ? Succumbing to the unreasonable and to our every perfidious feelings ? 

“Tom ?” you brung him back, your eyebrows furrowed. “Is everything ok ?” 

The young boy’s wide opened eyes stare at you, scrutinising every detail of your face. Every stain, every barely formed line and indentation, every curve. Everything and anything that makes you... human. 

“No.” he blurbed out, by freeing himself from your hand, which until now had reassured him but now made him feel like a prisoner. “I gotta go...” and with that, Tom stood up abruptly and left the coffee shop. 

“Tom wait !” you tried to stop him, but he’s fast. 

Tom sets off into the city, looking for a way home at all costs, even though he knows it's impossible. He bumps into things and people who then insult him for not paying attention without apologizing. He wants to cross the street and run away. He gets off the pavement and takes two steps when a van runs into him. Surprised, Tom holds still until a hand grabs his arm and pulls him back, causing him to fall with the person who saved him. It was you. Is she always going to save my life like that ?

Lying next to each other and trying to come to your senses, your breasts rise and fall in rhythm with your twin breaths. You turn your head towards him, the asphalt slightly scratching your scalp. His face is still tense but it hasn't changed. He is still beautiful, elegant, almost mischievous. His curls fall backwards against the ground and you notice the touch of red in his reflections. My God, how beautiful he is.

“Do you often have panic attacks ?” Tom's face gradually relaxes at the sound of your voice. But what frees him from the anxiety monster inside of him, is your laughter. Your sweet giggle. He almost killed you both, but you're laughing. Lying on the floor in the filthy street next to him. 

“I’m so sorry...” 

“Don’t be” you replied getting up. You then hold your hand for him to take it. “Come on, let’s go home” you smiled, putting the almost tragic incident that just happened behind you. Tom takes your hand and pushes himself off the ground with your help. 

“Home ?” he asked confused without letting your hand go.

“Yeah, I mean at my place. You’re going to live there until you... um... change.” you pressed your lips in a tight but friendly smile accompanied by a small puff. That’s when he doesn’t understand anymore. 

“Why are you doing this for me ?” he asks sinking in the back of his chair. “You don’t know me, I could be a sociopath !” or the prince of Hell. 

“Well, First of all I don’t think that sociopaths know they are socipaths. And when they do, I also don’t think it’s something they want to scream everywhere.” you replied standing in front of him, your fists of your hips. “And two: It’s you who came to my shop and ask for my help. And it’s not like you have somewhere to crash, don’t you ?” you titled your head to the side as if you were playfully challenging him. Tom grinned a little, trying to hide his hint of embarrassment  “But if you prefer, we can always find you a piece of cardboard that we will set you up in a not too badly famed alleyway, you'll love it, it’s-”

“Ok, alright you won !” Tom cut you placing his palms in defeat. “Hell, are you always like that ?” he chuckled. You just smiled cheekily and shrugged your shoulders. You took his arm and started walking. 

You didn’t live far from the bakery, only 10 minutes walking, which was very pratical since, before going to the bakery, you followed classes at university and had to go change at your place before going to work. You led Tom to your appartment. The building was far from the ivory towers in which Tom had grown up. Yours was much more dilapidated, with a cold cigarette smell in the stairwell that you asked him not to pay attention to. Ms. McDougall had never learned good manners, and enjoyed smoking in the small lobby. 

After going up the three floors without a lift, of course, you stop in front of the door of your flat to open it. “I wasn’t expecting someone today, so please forgive me for the old tea cups in the kitchen... and the living. And probably in the bathroom.”

“The bathroom ?” repeated Tom. 

“Yeah. Don’t ask. I don’t have any excuse” you chuckled finding your keays at the bottom of your bag. “Ok. Here you go !” you invited him in with your arm extended so he can enter first. Tom thanked you before walking in, discovering your small but cozy place. 

There was a main room which served as kitchen, dining room and living room. The black sofa in front of the television looked comfortable and could be folded out to make a bed. There was also a coffee table with books for the university, the remote control, chocolates, a cherry blossom scented candle and two mugs. A garland of light framed the window overlooking the street. The neighbourhood was not pretty, but at least it was quiet. Just like the flat which was very cozy. Tom already felt good there. 

You took off your jacket and your bag and started to tidy up the room quickly. Tom looked at you with an amused smile. He looked how a few strands of hair fell on your face as you pick up the mugs out of the table and put them in the sink; and how your hands worked quickly to collect your books. 

“What do you study ?” Tom asked pointing to your books that you held close to your chest. 

“I am studying to become a nurse” you responded with a soft smile. “My finals are in three weeks.” 

“Oh, that’s a noble job” said Tom, immediatly regreting sounding condescendin. “I mean, it’s a great one ! Better than selling sandwiches and croissants.” When he saw your lips thightening and your eyes squinting, he held his hands in front of you, trying to catch back his mistake “No, I mean, working in a bakery is great, it’s just... being a nurse is better for you !” 

“How would you know what’s better for me ?” you teased. Tom felt his palms sweating and his cheeks redenning. You got him. 

Why does he react like that ? He was prince of Hell, and soon - hopefully - king, for fuck’s sake ! He’s used to people being affraid of him and his powers. Used to spill his venom on any creature, human or not, using harsh, insulting and degrading names, without the shadow of an ounce of embarrassment. That's what he did. To be the cursed prince of Hell. The beloved child of death and eternal torture. 

But with you it’s different. You are different. He feels deeply in his soul, that he would never use these words on you. You had a force on him that he couldn’t explain. 

“I-I... I don’t, yeah you’re right. Sorry, I didn’t want to-” he stopped when he heard your light giggle. 

“Tom, I was joking. I understood what you meant, I just wanted to mess you with. Selling sandwiches is great but it isn’t my professional perspective. Sorry for making you uncomfortable, that was dumb.”

“No, no, no ! It’s fine. It’s just a joke.” he puffed. What ?! In Hell, he would have sent the fool who dared messing up with him, in the worst session of torture of his entire eternity. 

You smiled to him before heading to your bedroom, throwing your books on your bed. You came back with a blanket and a very soft looking pillow. You then walked to the bathroom with a new toothbrush and clean towel. 

“My brother lived here for a while a couple of years ago and left clothes. You can take whatever you want, he’s not gonna come back.” 

“Where is he now ?” you felt a hiver running through your body at the thought of him. 

“I don’t know. Aaron never felt like he belongged in this society, that he had nothing to bring to the community. So he wanted to join the army. They know how to talk to kids who feel like him. Telling them that their lives will save thousands of others. I told him it would be the biggest mistake of his life, that he’s smart and talented but he didn’t want to hear anything. So he left one day, and I never saw him again.” It was the first time you talked about your brother in two years. You felt tears threatening to fall. “I don’t even know if he’s still alive.” you choked on the last word, unable to bear the very idea that he may no longer be of this world. 

Tom looked at you not knowing what to do. He tried to remember an Aaron who would have gone to hell. The Prince has the ability to know all the deaths that fall and the division of souls between heaven and hell. This means that he knows every name, story and sin that enters his kingdom. Unfortunately, without his powers on Earth, he cannot know whether his brother is alive or not. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he murmured before clearing his throat. “I’m sure he’ll come back one day.” You raised your head with a heart-rending smile, trying hard to hide your pain. 

“He’s in the past now. Let’s talk about something else.” You entered the kitchen, looking for something to eat, but you forgot to go to the grocery store today. Well, you didn’t really forgot, your plans just... changed a bit. “Um... I have nothing in my fridge and clearly I don’t want to grocery shopping right now, so is chinese take away is fine with you ?” 

“Perfect !” He never ate chinese food. 

“Great ! I’ll just call my favorite place after taking a shower” you said walking backwards to your bathroom. 

When Tom heard the water running, he fell on the couch dramtically. His legs spread and his right hand on his forhand he stared into the void, trying to process what happened those two last days. Him being banned from Hell for an indefinite period almost dead two times on the road, loosing his powers, and ending up living in an girl’s appartment. Tom sighed loudly, wondering how all of this could happen to the fucking prince of Hell. 

And now what ? 

________________________________________________________________

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#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #koh!tom #koh!tom x reader #spiderman #peter parker #Peter Parker Imagine #mcufam #mcu imagine #koh!tomholland

[theonlygamergost]

My enemy, ally and friend

Technoblade deeply misses Wilbur and Phil, to a point where he thinks their friendship and the SleepyBoisInc was based on a lie, fortunately, he now has by his side an enemy, now teammate, and most definitely a new friend. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reviewed by the amazing @im-default

Enjoy~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes it was hard recollecting your thoughts, maybe it was the sleepiness, maybe it was the quantity of thoughts, either way, sometimes the only thing Techno could do to stop the storm inside his head was to sit down on the edge of a cliff and watch the world silently.

It was still, yet bursting with life… it was silent, yet full of all kinds of sounds.

Techno took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a few seconds: he had found a monster he could not slay with a sword and shield… neither with arrows and potions.

The thought of abandonment was something brute force couldn’t defeat.

Let’s address the elephant in the room, shall we?

Since Techno had been split apart from the SleepyBoisInc in Minecraft Championship, Techno could not shake off the feeling of getting abandoned… no… left out?.. no… he felt like an immovable burden was lifting off of Wilbur’s and Phil’s shoulders… and that burden… was him.

He had begged them to always team together because he was uncomfortable teaming up with unknown players… yes, they agreed but…

What if they were doing it only to please him? What if they didn’t care about him?

What if they were happy he couldn’t team with them anymore?

A shiver went down Techno’s spine, he didn’t think that was true… wasn’t it?

He sighed and took his head between his hands, shaking lightly.

There was no way that was right… They were the SleepyBois! Three great friends that always had each others backs… right?

Techno had recently gotten out of the potato war, meaning that he didn’t have a lot of time to talk to them, they supported him, listening to his rambles for hours… But what if Tommy was a better friend than him?

Tommy was energetic and played way more with Phil and Wilbur than Techno ever did.

What if?.. no… there’s no way…

…

But what if?

Techno looked at the valley underneath him, the Minecraft Champions server wasn’t the most aesthetically pleasing one, but it served its purpose: It helped Youtubers and Streamers alike to practice for the next competitions, Techno didn’t spend a lot of time in here, but when he did it was always pretty full, allowing players to get in a discord call and talk without the eyes of viewers and fans on them.

DIstracting himself from his thoughts by looking around was working quite well… but he couldn’t ignore it anymore…

What if Tommy was slowly taking his place in the SleepyBoisInc?

A shiver went down his spine. He desperately hoped he was wrong…

But this feeling was more real than he liked to admit.

Oh so many times he had seen the three of them in a call, oh so many times he had seen them playing till morning together…

“Lost in thoughts, Technoblade?”

He snapped his head in the direction of the unexpected voice. He wasn’t expecting to see the blonde boy with the green hoodie to be honest, but they didn’t have to pretend to be enemies anymore, he didn’t have to be alarmed of his presence anymore…  so he relaxed the shoulders he didn’t know he tensed up.

“Yeah… something like that…”

It was a reflect of his to always place a hand on his sword when he heard movements behind him, so he moved it back to his lap, spine curved and head looking down.

“Chin up king, your crown is falling”

Dream quickly caught Techno’s crown which was slowly threatening to slip off the head it was placed on.

Techno couldn’t help but flinch at that comment… they always said that to him… Phil and Wilbur always said those words to cheer him up when he wasn’t feeling too well or his anxiety had taken over… Wilbur and Phil…

Dream noticed how sad Techno looked, and how trapped in his own mind he was, it was a common recurrence lately, but Dream had never had the guts to ask him since Techno could be… aggressive and over-protective without realizing it, and Dream was scared to bother him, so he never asked.

But it’s now or never, right?

“What’s going on Techno? You look lost”

In a way, you aren’t wrong, he thought, but said nothing, fidgeting with the soft fur of his cape.

The blonde boy stiffly sat down next to him, admiring the view as well, legs dangling off the cliff.

“Look Techno,” the crowned pig turned his head so he could see the green hoodie, but not his face, “I-I know we haven’t talked much… and we were… quote on quote rivals ‘till recently… but if anything is on your mind, a-anything at all… I’ll be here to listen”

Dream was stuttering more in his brain than he actually was, talking to Techno as a friend was something he never imagined and it took him time to get used to it… but he cared for Techno… even if they had the same age, to him, Techno knew way more and he looked up at him like some sort of… idol… even if he had more subscribers than him.

The pig-skinned man still wasn’t looking at him, Dream felt like he messed up, like he wasn’t supposed to be there, so they sat in silence next to each other, one freaking out, the other debating with himself.

Did Dream need to know about his theory of the Sbi? Did he need to know that he missed them dearly and was scared to confront them, even if it was just a casual greet?

No… he didn’t need to… he thought to himself, but Phil always told him that keeping his thoughts to himself wasn’t going to make a difference so…

“Are you sad that the Dream team got split up in Mcc?”

Dream was so surprised to hear Techno’s voice he jumped, he was even more surprised that the question was addressed to him.

“Uh… uhm… well… y-yeah? I guess I’m kinda sad that I c-can’t play with th-them? They are my best friends after a-all… “

Dream was taken off guard and his stuttering was inevitable.

He never stuttered when they were live or recording since Dream told himself that Techno was talking to him to make content and entertain, so he was able to act cocky in front of him since he was “better than Technoblade”... he knew that statement wasn’t wrong, but if Techno would set his mind to it, he could easily surpass him.

“Well… I’m… very sad I can’t play with Phil and Will but… “

Was he ready to expose himself? Was he ready to get judged by Dream? No… not really… Techno was one to keep his burdens all to himself, placing a smile as a curtain to avoid everyone seeing what was hiding inside.

Wilbur and Phil could see straight through his act and they would annoy him until he let out everything… but they weren’t there right now, they weren’t there for him… but Dream was.

“I honestly miss them very much… I know I was the first one to find myself a team without them... yet… something is bothering me-”

“You’re afraid to get replaced?”

Techno’s eyes widened as he turned to face the blonde boy with a white mask, in complete shock.

“H-how did you..?”

Dream smirked, collecting his legs and squeezing them into his chest.

“I was afraid of that too… Have you ever watched a manhunt video with BadBoyHalo in it?”

Techno nodded, imitating Dream by bringing his right leg to his chest.

“The synergy between George Sapnap and BBH is amazing, Bad is an amazing leader and while I was being silent not to give myself away… They laughed, joked and had tons of fun together… and as much as I tried to join in… They even ignored me from time to time… hell, they even called themself the “Three Muffinteers”... I honestly was scared they were replacing me with Bad…”

Techno looked at the server in front of them, the players looked like ants from where he was standing.

“And what did you do?”

Dream looked at Techno and sighed, his stuttering went away in a heartbeat, Techno was vulnerable. He was asking him help, Dream, his enemy, from the eyes of the fanbase… Dream had a hard time not to freak out like a fanboy, but this was serious, Techno was serious, and so was going to be his attempt to help him.

“Nothing, I was actually very sad for the entire night…”

Techno looked down, already hopeless.

“But the next day, as I joined a call, George and Sapnap were there, happy to hear from me… acting like the day before never happened.”

Techno tilted his head in confusion, Dream took a deep breath and turned to face him, “Look Techno, they can’t replace you, everyone is their own person, with their own personality, quality and flaws, even if it looks like Tommy is taking your place, he can’t replace you because he isn’t you!”

Techno was astonished by Dream’s words, he had recently watched a couple of his videos to understand what type of players he was and all he had seen was a confident, solitary player who thought almost always two steps ahead and never went in without a plan. Realizing these kind words were coming from him, they definitely made him look more human… same with himself showing Dream this insecurity of his, made him look human too.

“C’mere Techno, you look like you need a hug”

Techno was pulled in an embrace he didn’t expect nor want, his whole body was stiff because of the unwanted human touch, but he wasn’t a robot, he wasn’t perfect, and as he looked at the green of Dream’s hoodie and the blonde of his hair, the memories poured in.

Phil…

He couldn't hold in the sobs at this point and broke down.

Dream imagined how hard for his pride this had to be, crying on a shoulder of someone he barely knew, he just remained silent, trying his hardest not to move to break this moment.

~~~~~

After the hiccups calmed down, Techno’s weight shifted and Dream took it as a sign to let him go, his eyes were red from the tears and his cheeks were still full of tears, so was Dream shoulder.

“S-sorry about that…”

Techno apologized while looking at the wet spots on the other man’s hoodie, turning away from him to blow his nose.

“Don’t worry, we all need to cry sometimes, I’m happy I was able to help you… as a teammate… and a friend”

Dream cringed instantly, thinking he pushed his luck too far by calling him friend, but Techno just smiled at the comment, wiping the remaining tears away with his sleeve.

“I might not be Wilbur or Philza but… if you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask, I promise i won’t judge”

Techno was looking beneath him, he smiled again before he placed a hand on Dream’s shoulder to help himself get up.

“Thank you, I'll’ keep that in mind... Now, I’m kinda hungry, I know a place that makes good burgers, want to go get something to eat? it’s on me” he extended his arm to Dream, pointing at it with his eyes.

It was Dream’s turn to smile, he took Techno’s hand to help him get up, “I can’t refuse, can I? Well then, lead the way” he gestured Techno to go first, when he started walking, Dream following right after.

“Want to 1v1 later? I could teach you some tricks about 1.9 combat if you’d like”

“What a nerd, always thinking about practicing… sure, why not? But don’t complain if you get destroyed, I’m better than you think I am”

They both laughed, hands in pockets and diamond sword strapped on their back.

Maybe opening up to him wasn’t such a bad idea.

#I CRIED WHILE WRITING THIS #WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF #technoblade #dreamwastaken #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #ph1lza #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #sleepyboisinc #sbi #mcyt fanfiction

[calmlftv]

safe. - a.i.

description: covid-19, also known as “the zombie virus,” claimed hundreds of thousands of victims in 2018, and while it all seemed to be going great, something much darker was hiding within research facilities across the nation. 

word count: exactly 4,001

warnings: descriptions of graphic imagery, blood, injuries, feelings of hopelessness. 

w/n: this is my first fic for the 5sos writers collab! i’m so excited to participate in this, i always love reading the fics that come out from this and im so happy i get to be part of it! my prompt for this was zombie apocalypse au so i hope i did it justice! 

taglist: @spicycal @n-ctarinenga @irwinkitten @castaway-cashton @blackbutterfliescal @ashtonsos @loveroflrh @bestyearssos​ @treatallwithkindness @bestyearslftv​ @another-lonely-heart-blog​

****

It’s been 730 days. 

That’s 24 months since the world went to shit. 

Two years since the haunting screams have driven you to nightmares and panic attacks, something you had never had to deal with in the Before. 

That’s all it was now. The Before. The time before the virus contaminated the body, before the monsters smashed into your home and tore your family apart. 

Before all of that. Before, you were a nice person. In the Before, you were having the time of your life. But now? 

Now you’re miserable. 

With a gasp you awoke again, chest heaving as your mind raced. Your palms were pressed against the cold wooden floor of the house you had cleared, eyes quickly darting between all means of entry as you assessed your surroundings. Only when you saw the makeshift barricades you had created did you begin to calm down, your eyes squeezing shut as you pulled your knees against your chest. 

I fucking hate it here. 

Moments passed until you were able to open your eyes again, your vision blurry as you scrambled up to your feet. The old and ragged coat you had been using as a blanket was bunched up in your hand, the old and rotting pillow you had used being kicked to the side as you quickly found the mass that is your backpack. You stumbled through the house, making all kinds of noise as you made it to the closest counter, a shaking hand already reaching up to open the two cabinets above. 

Empty. 

Just like the other ones. 

The dust on the shelves made your stomach hurt, determination already slumping your body as you pushed off the counter and headed towards the door. You knew it was no use to search the rest of the house for food; you had been hiding in this shithole for 14 hours, and if your searches yielded no results by now, you might as well move on.

Carefully you pried pieces of dusty and damp furniture away from the back door of the home, your foot landing on a shattered picture frame on the floor just as you cleared the doorway. You yelped, leaping away from the frame as your eyes landed on it. Captured within the frame was a beautiful blonde woman, curly hair down to her waist and a jungle green dress hugging her body as her hands rested on her rather large belly. In front of her knelt a man with shaggy brown hair, his lips pressed against her belly as she beamed with joy, the two of them so obviously in love with their bundle of joy that it could have made you sick. 

Feeling empty you tore your eyes away, the lack of blood on your foot propelling you forward and out the old, creaky door. You started off slow, like always, watching your footsteps and listening intently as you ignored everything your body was telling you; the aches in your knees and tightness in your jaw could wait; your life depended on it, after all. 

After a few miles you picked up the pace, your vision blurring slightly as you moved faster. Despite the pain that was now in your stomach you pushed on, determined to find some sort of shelter before you passed out, your weak muscles and body screaming at you with every step and breath. 

You’re not entirely certain how far you made it before you heard the near-silent steps nearby, just out of sight on your left. You sluggishly turned around, quickly trying to wipe the fog from your eyes as you tried to find the creature that stalked behind you. 

Much to your surprise a figure appeared, a gentleman peeking around a tree with dark hair. Fear struck you quickly as you backed away, almost immediately tripping over a large branch and landing on your ass as the figure stepped closer, now coming out from his hiding spot as you tried so hard to scramble away. 

“Hey, hey, wait,” he said gently, the voice jarring to you. 

Another human? You thought, shock freezing you in place. But how-

A grunt followed by a bone chilling moan came from the right, your head snapping in that direction. To your surprise, the man quickly got closer and extended his hand, carefully taking you by the arm and hoisting you up easily just as another man appeared from the direction of the sound. 

Another normal, human man, brown hair pulled back into a bun.

“There’s a horde on the way,” he stated, jerking a thumb behind him as his eyes took you in. “We’ve gotta go, Ash.” 

“Alright, Logan, but we’re taking in a stray.” 

The man stared at you and nodded, a silent agreement you had no idea of happening as the first man - Ash - carefully spun you around and guided you forward, footsteps falling in sync between the three of you as the strangers guided you onwards. 

The trees were closing in on you as you gripped Ash’s arm, knees trying to buckle underneath you from pure exhaustion and pain. The man chuckled and soon another hand was on you, the two men hoisting you up and quickly carrying you away. 

***

“Whoa-!” A woman said, strong hands immediately trying to push you down as you struggled against them. 

“Who the fuck-” you started, panic filling you now as you bit down on the side of a hand. A yelp came from the stranger and the hands were gone, your mind racing as a woman knelt beside you. 

“-shh, little love, it’s okay. You’re safe now,” she soothed, hand running in circles along your back as you focused on her voice. It was soft and gentle, the voice a stark difference to the harsh grinding in your mind. 

Safe?

Your eyes landing on her, finally taking her in as she gave you a soft smile. “Hey there,” she said kindly, tone gentle and soothing. “Sorry to have given you a fright, Devyn’s just so used to dealing with...rougher patients.” 

Her eyes guided you to the other side of the room where a young man stood at the sink, glaring at you while he seemed to nurse his bitten hand. 

The woman chuckled, gaining your attention once again. “My name’s Tabitha, but most people ‘round here call me Tabby,” she said, gently taking your hand and turning it over. Her fingers carefully pressed against the inside of your wrist, your pulse pounding against her skin. “And you, little stray, are very much alive.” 

You blinked, Tabby’s eyes taking in your face. 

“Where am I?” 

Your voice was hoarse and broken, vocal chords seeming to ache as they were used again. 

Tabby smiled. “You’re in our Community,” she said sweetly, gesturing vaguely to the room around you. “It’s a bit shabby, but not the worst place to be. It’s a safe place for people to be, little stray, I promise.” 

“M’not a stray,” you mumbled, your voice slightly stronger but not by much.

Your exam went by fairly quickly, Tabby settling you back into your bed as soon as possible before she excused herself. Once you were laying back against the pillow Devyn popped back over, quietly and carefully adjusting some things as you watched. He glanced at you and nodded, seeming to have gotten over your first impression, before he turned around and left the room. 

Once you were alone you finally, truly relaxed, sighing as you carefully sat yourself up. You were able to take in the room, looking around at the chipping paint on the walls and the bits of dust floating in the air around the only window to your left, the light reflecting gracefully as the particles moved within it. Desperate for some light you started to stand, legs shaking as you tried to make your way to the window. 

“Hey hey, what are you doing?”

The new voice startled you, adrenaline flooding your veins as you spun around. You grabbed the nearest object that could be used as a weapon and held it in front of you, ready to fight for your life if need be. 

The man who found you in the woods stood in the doorway with his hands up, a single dark curl falling over his forehead as he stood perfectly still. 

“Hey,” he said calmly, voice soft and warm. “It’s alright, I’m not here to hurt you. We’ve already sort of met, remember? In the woods?” 

As he spoke the memory came flooding back to you and you dropped the weapon, a blush settling on your cheeks as you tried to find the right words to apologize. 

He chuckled, dropping his hands and stepping in. “Someone’s a bit jumpy, hm?” He teased, obviously trying to calm you down. He glanced at your empty bed before looking back at you. “And a bit eager to explore.” 

You cleared your thoughts and nodded a bit, still hesitant to trust him too much. “Just wanted to see outside, sir,” you admitted. “Maybe feel some sun if I’m lucky.” 

The man watched you and nodded, his hands going into the pockets of his jeans. He had on a simple black t-shirt that seemed clean, something that was a foreign concept to you these days. “Well I’d definitely say you’re lucky. You barely made it to the gates of the community before you passed out, I had to have Logan carry you in.” 

The blush returned, causing him to laugh. “It’s okay, you’re in good hands here. Tabby was a doctor before all this happened, and she’s taught Devyn everything she knows.” 

You nodded. “Tabby seems nice,” you said, feeling a bit safer again. “I, uh, kinda bit Devyn on accident, so I don’t know if he likes me.” 

When you met his eyes he was containing a laugh, ultimately failing as you moved back towards your bed. “You bit him!” He chuckled, calming down a bit. “Well, once you’ve got your strength back, I’m sure we’ll have a hell of a fighter on our hands.” 

You smiled, chuckling a bit. “Not sure how much help I’ll be until then,” you said, sighing again. 

The man moved closer, sitting on the edge of your bed. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” he said softly, flashing a reassuring smile. “Start out with the easy tasks, and work your way up when you’re feeling better.” He ducked his head down, catching your eyes and smiling again. “Sound like a plan?” 

You met his eyes and nodded, the hazel color full of so much warmth that you couldn’t help but believe him. Somehow, despite being on your own for two years, it was easy to trust him; it was easy to let the fear melt away. 

He grinned, reaching to squeeze your shoulder until you jerked away. Maybe you weren���t ready to trust him too much. “We’ll work on that,” he said kindly, nodding and standing up. “I’ll check in this evening around dinner, okay? Maybe bring by a surprise, for our Lucky Stray.” 

You both nodded to each other before he headed towards the door. You quickly remembered something and stood again. 

“Wait,” you said, the man turning around in the doorway. “What’s your name?” 

He smiled. “Ashton,” he said simply. “M’name’s Ashton.” 

You nodded, the man repeating the action before he grabbed the doorknob and stepped out.The door closed softly behind him, the silence making your ears ring as you stared at the window again. 

This is a hell of a place, you thought, settling back against the bed once again. A blanket was draped at the end of the mattress but you curled up without it, the previous rush of adrenaline in your system keeping you warm as you closed your eyes. 

Maybe I’ll stick around for a while, you accepted, your exhausted mind already starting to settle into sleep. Where it’s safe. 

For now. 

****

Over time you were able to recover, your days filled with visits from Ashton and other members of the community. The visits you were always most excited for were Ashton’s, the length of them going from a couple minutes every couple of days to a few hours every single day. Sometimes he’d bring in whatever work had to do and set up a table next to you, teaching you the different jobs within the community from cleaning weapons to childcare to anything else that may need to be done. While you absolutely adored being able to learn about the community more and more, you enjoyed your time with Ash a bit more, the two of you building a strong bond that made recovery easier. It certainly helped that your heart would skip a few beats every time you saw him, his winning smile and wonderful laughter having their calming effect on you. 

Before you knew it you were moved to your own room, a window looking east over the woods bringing you peace on the mornings you awoke in a panic. Though the things that lurk in the darkness between the trees terrified you, the peace that the air carried would blanket around you enough to calm your racing heart. 

The community had slowly become your home, the sights and sounds of the people and the work to be done settling you into a new, welcoming routine that felt like fresh air after the suffocating two years you had been through. All was well and perfect in the months that passed, and as you and Ashton continued to steal glances and flirty smiles, you finally felt normal again. 

Until the day that it changed. 

Day 1,095. Three years since history was changed forever. 

Your normal nightmare was terrorizing your mind again, your body tossing and turning in the restless sleep you had to endure before the dawn of a new day could wake you. This time, however, it felt urgent, more panicked than it had before; the screaming was closer, somehow, the footsteps of your loved ones echoing desperately around you as your mind spun it’s twisted tale. You did everything you could to escape it all but felt the cold hand wrap around your mouth, covering your screams as you tried to launch yourself away. 

“Wake up!” 

You jumped at the sudden voice, the sound shattering the terrifying images that flashed within your mind. You tried to lurch out of bed but a heavy weight stopped you, the hand from your nightmare becoming real as you fought to get up. 

“Stop-” the voice said, the word turning into a grunt as a blow landed against a solid chest. Your eyes began to focus as the voice came again, messy dark hair and hazel eyes finally coming into view.

“Stop fighting,” Ashton asked, voice barely above a whisper as he kept you quiet. You met his eyes and he held a finger to his lips, his other hand still covering your mouth as he paused. 

After a moment he nodded and moved, taking your hand to help you up from the bed. “We have to go,” he said softly, with urgency in his voice. “Do you need to grab anything?”

You stopped, your brain stuck on his first request. “Go?” You asked, voice louder than you anticipated as Ashton quickly covered your mouth again. 

After another moment he pulled away, hands resting on your shoulders. “We don’t have a lot of time,” he started, “but I’ll make it quick. We’re being raided, and we have to go. Right now.” 

Your mind started spinning again, the new information feeling impossible to process as Ashton took your hand again, obviously taking your silence as his cue to start leaving. He led you to the closed door of your room, pressing against the wall as he slowly opened it enough to peek outside. 

Your mind snapped to attention at the sound of a distant shout. “Tabby-” 

“-is already gone with Logan,” he assured you, looking back at you. “They’re getting everybody else out. I wanted to come for you.” 

The gesture was sweet, and while it wasn’t lost on you, your mind now focused solely on getting the hell out of there as more yelling started on the other side of the community, followed by harsh crashing. 

“Okay, let’s go,” Ashton said suddenly, hand tightening around yours as he dashed out of your space and dragged you along. Your steps eventually synchronized, the two of you quietly avoiding detection as you tried to loop around to where everybody else was supposed to be. 

As soon as you got close enough a loud bang echoed through you, chilling you to the bone as a warm liquid started to trickle down your neck. Within seconds you were being dragged along again, adrenaline giving you strength as Ashton started running. Your mind became cloudy as your body fell into autopilot, the distant sounds of your own footsteps not even feeling real as you carefully made your way through the forest. 

Ashton kept the pace, only slowing down as the trees got more and more dense, the path he was taking you down becoming harder to safely navigate as you escaped the home you thought was safe. The questions started racing through your head, each one leaving you more and more confused and frustrated than the last. 

While lost in your thoughts your feet collided with a fallen branch, seemingly taking you by surprise as you tripped over it. You tried to catch yourself but failed miserably, your legs giving out from pure exhaustion as your ribs and jaw met the dirt and debris you had previously been running through. 

Ashton stopped the second your hand left his, spinning around just in time to watch you land on the ground. He quickly came to your side, kneeling beside you and helping you slowly sit up.

“Alright?” He asked softly, eyes meeting yours as you nodded. He looked around, pausing as he heard the unmistakable shuffling of a zombie. He quickly quieted you and helped you stand, leading you in the opposite direction of the sound as the smell invaded your nostrils, turning your stomach over in protest as you forced yourself to move. 

The new path was a large loop, the sound and smell making your heart race. At one point you caught a glimpse of it, the flesh blackened and decaying, exposed bits of muscle staring at you as you held in the contents of your stomach. 

Ashton tugged you further, slowly and carefully until you finally broke through into a clearing. He helped you sit and started to walk the edges of the small space you now inhabited, checking the trees until circling back to kneel in front of you. 

“Alright, we’re about a half mile away from the meeting point,” he said, meeting your eyes. “The others will be taking a longer route in case the raiders followed them, so it’ll just be us for a day or two.” 

You nodded to his words, wincing at the sudden pain in your right ear. His brow furrowed as you reached up, fingertips barely touching it before you hissed. 

He was suddenly very close to you, turning your head and carefully inspecting the injury. He chuckled. “They nicked you real good back there,” he stated, your head jerking away as his fingers got too close. “Sorry. We need to get you to the point, get you bandaged up.” 

All you could do was nod, your mind still racing from everything that had happened. It was all too fast, too overwhelming and hard to process; you had just been sleeping in the safest place you knew of, finally finding somewhere that feels like home, just to have it all ripped away from you just as suddenly. It gave you whiplash, and quite frankly, it was enough to drive you to the edge of your sanity. 

You just wanted one good thing to stay good. Was that really too much to ask?

The two of you were quiet during the rest of your break, the silence only breaking when Ash said it was time to move. Despite the two of you being out of immediate danger he still took your hand, the two of you making your way to this meeting point he had mentioned. 

When you arrived you didn’t even see anything at first; the entrance was in the ground and heavily guarded by plants and fallen logs, Ashton brushing it all away before tugging open the heavy metal door. Inside was a ladder, Ash gesturing for you to go down first. Despite everything aching and screaming for you to stop, you obeyed, climbing down the ladder first as Ashton followed you and sealed the two of you in. 

According to Ashton a member of the community had found this old bunker while hunting one day, the man literally stumbling upon it and finding his way inside. When Ash and the others caught up to him they decided to keep it hidden, only telling a few others about its existence for situations just like this. 

“So what happens with it when we don’t need to hide in it?” You asked, venturing to what seemed like a bedroom with a single bed in the middle of it.

Ashton chuckled. “Nothing,” he answered, following you and leaning against the doorway. “It just sits here, really, until we have a use for it.” 

You sat on the edge of the bed, eyes taking in the concrete around you as Ashton moved towards you, his eyes locked on you. 

“You should get some sleep,” he stated, holding up a hand before you could protest. “It’s obvious you’re exhausted, love, and I know you’ve got to be in pain.” 

You dropped your eyes. “I’m fine, Ashton.”

“Don’t lie to me.” 

The tone in his voice made you look up, meeting his eyes again. “M’not lying. I’m fine.” 

He sighed, moving back towards the door. “Fine. But I’m cleaning up your ear.” 

Before you could protest he was gone, only coming back once he had found a first aid kit. You huffed but let him take care of you, hissing as he cleaned your wound and wrapped it with a bandage and gauze.

“There,” he said, sitting back and cleaning up the mess. “Once Tabby gets here she’ll really get that fixed up for ya.” 

You nodded, his voice sounding far away as the bandage muffled him. He tossed the kit on the ground beside the bed, the two of you sitting in silence. 

“What are we going to do now?” You asked softly, your mind still thinking of the home you had lost. 

He shrugged. “We’ll start over,” he answered, his voice just as soft. “Find a new place for everybody. Build new defenses. Maybe start planting our own crops, even.” 

You looked over at him, chuckling a bit. “Alright, Farmer Ash,” you teased, the man laughing lightly. You both fell silent until you found the courage to speak again. “Maybe I am tired.” 

He chuckled and looked at you, gesturing for you to lay down against the pillows. “Get some rest, then,” he said, standing and moving towards the door. 

“Wait,” you said, the man pausing and turning towards you. “Stay with me? Just until I fall asleep.” 

He smiled and nodded, coming back and sitting on the opposite side of the bed as you got settled. You gave him a look and he rolled his eyes, laying back himself and settling in. 

You faced each other, eyes locking as he smiled. “You can’t sleep with your eyes open,” he teased, earning a light laugh from you. 

“Fine, fine,” you said, letting your eyes fall shut as you slightly adjusted your sleeping position. After a second you opened your eyes again, seeing Ashton with his closed. 

“Ash?” 

He cracked one eye open. “Yeah?”

“You promise this new place will be safe?” 

“Darling, you’ll always be safe with me. I promise.” 

#ashton irwin #5sos #5sos au #ashton irwin au #zombie apocolypse au #blurbs.ai #pls dont hate me for ending it where i did #i rlly didnt it to be like 10k words #also sorry for my lack of imagery y'all #im trying 😔 #someday i might revisit this and do it over

[chris-spacehere]

Penthos

hey girl, i had to make a greek myth for english class and im too lazy to make my own characters i made an au.

Penthos: philza Thirio: Techno.

Aplistos: Dream

(ok that was just a clarification cuz i had to change their names for obvious reasons)

uhh enjoy this crappy fic im kinda proud of also i had to write this as a greek myth set in modern times so please don’t kill me for the shitty way i wrote this.

                                                        Penthos.

Penthos was a mortal, whos soul had fallen to the rivers of Hades as he fell to his death, pleading he wanted a second opportunity to see the sun another day, Hades agreed on the deal as Phentos became an immortal, by the price of having to live as all the people around him die, family, neighbors, beasts, animals, his power became a curse, proclaimed as the ‘Angel of Death’, fallen from grace, watching everyone and everything fall with him.

He watched from afar, as the mortals challenged gods, filled the world with machines and power-hungry beasts, hiding on the woods, hiding from the horrible monsters humanity has become, scared of getting attached to anyone, scared of the death from those around him.

He lived in the woods, scared of going out, scared of himself, as he was walking and gathering fruits to make food, he found some pointy pink ears going around, as he thought this was a pig, he instantly went to hunt it, but when Penthos found it, There was no beast or pig, but a child, He had long elf-like ears, glasses, a bright pink hair, a white shirt, black pants and a dead bunny in his hands, plus he looked like he was around 14 years old, why would a child be alone in the woods? Where are his parents? and why are his ears so weird?

“who are you? Where are your parents? Why are you alone? what’s with your weird ears and hair?’ were some of the many questions Penthos asked the child, it’s been ages since the last time he talked to someone. “i’m an orphan” the tiny kid answered in a very soft and low tone, “aren’t orphanages a thing? you don’t need to be in the woods alone, the animals could eat you or-” the orphan interrupted Penthos before he could finish his claims of how dangerous it was for him to be alone. 

“I am a strong person, old man! i can’t die and if i tried going to whatever on earth those humans were doing outside of this woods, they would just get me to their labs or treat me as a pet just for some pointy ears, you know you people just treat people like me as dumb animals for being different!” the kid cried in anger, pushing away Penthos “i understand you” Penthos said trying to calm down the child who seemed to have so much emotions going on his head “i made a deal with gods, y’know back then when people actually respect the olympus and all of this machines were just dreams of what the gods could barely make, i didn’t want to die and they accepted my cries but..everyone around me died, it is hard to not me human, but what happened to you? It has been so much time since i last saw someone like you..” Penthos said, trying to relate to the kid, so much time without being with people but he did miss the feeling of trying to make a child smile.

“They cursed me..” the orphan said “they cursed me to be a ‘beast’ for eternity, my own city exiled me for what I've become and now i’m here, but i don’t need some old man to tell me what to do! I've been surviving for one month already, I can handle myself, I know how to fight and I know I will never die, just like you or whatever you say the gods did to you!” The kid exclaimed while shoving back his tears. Penthos was surprised by this kid's confidence and use of words, he may not have understood well what he meant, but he thought he might have finally found someone like thim, a companion for his everlasting time on this planet, someone to share stories with, someone to take care of, a friend.

Penthos open heart seeking for company after all of this centuries, lonely, decided to invite the child to stay in a shack he built in that forest, he was known for not letting himself  get attached to stuff but this time it seemed like he wasn’t going to leave this one, this time he felt comfy and wanted around. “My name is Thirio by the way” The kid said to penthos on their way to the shack. “Penthos” Penthos replied softly to the kid as they walked their way to home.

It was nice, for first time since the old ancient greece times he had a family, they touched the guitar and sometimes went to the Mortals cities to watch what was going on, you could say they didn’t really like the way governments and economy were working this days, just an old man and an smart child ranting about society from afar while cracking jokes.

One time when they were done with their visits to the Cities of the mortals as usual they returned to the woods and headed to take a nap on a lake near their shack, but this time there was someone following, an unknown man with golden hair in a green hoodie, he just silently followed them into the woods, no words, just a long walk back home.

As Thirio and Penthos relaxed in the lake the man with the green hoodie came out of the darkness, he was just a human wasn’t he? there was no reason to be scared, he was probably just a wanderer, Penthos told Thirio to just try avoid talking to the man as they started getting ready to go back home, but the man was staying still.

The man’s hands would slowly be turning into black void covering his skin, as his green hoodie slowly turned into tiny green vines surrounding the black void skin, and his face slowly turned into a blank “ :) “ face in a really bright white color in his black void face, Penthos turned his head before going back to his shack as his eyes open wide open to the reaction of the wide figure standing still staring at them.

Penthos yelled at Thirio to run fast into the shack and so he did, Then the man chuckled behind his breath “i’m sorry for catching you off-guard, i must present myself, i am Aplistos, sent by the gods to punish humanity for you all abusing the resources they provided you mortals and just wasted it and threw it over and then had the audacity to try challenge the gods!” Aplistos claimed at Penthos, clueless of his gift and curse from Hades, as then Aplistos pulled out a knife, Penthos thought he would finally be granted death,  but the terrifying figure of Aplistos ran with his knife to another direction far from Penthos, what was the point? did he know he was immortal? no, then Penthos had the realization, he knew exactly where Aplistos was going, then Penthos went running after him but it was too late.

As soon as Penthos arrived he saw how Thirio’s body fell into the floor dead, as aplistos started laughing like a mad-man “i’ve noticed that taking people’s attachments is much of an easier way of having control over them,  it’s easier to make you mortals learn your lesson this way you know?’ Aplistos said as Penthos got filled with rage as tears fell from his eyes, his worst fear came true, the one person he cared about, the kid he raised, the reason he learned to be kind and soft once again, the ‘kid that never dies’, gone forever. As the rage filled Penthos while Aplistos laughed to death, Penthos grabbed a rock and smashed it on Aplistos head as Aplistos reached the same destiny as Thirio. 

But one does not cry forever, as Penthos made honor to his name, he reached acceptance and in honor to the one person that ever made him laugh, Penthos swore the rest of his infinite life to protect poor mortals from horrible monsters such as Aplistos, and make some good for humanity in all of the time he had got on his hands.

#dream smp #dsmp #dreamsmp #mcyt #philza #technoblade #dreamwastaken #pog trough the pain #just killed an old man with heart problems

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

shit (me again and again and again) i saw somebody else’s request on another fandom and i thought it was really cute so i’m going to copy them, you buy a pregnancy test but chris finds it before you can take it?💕

A/N- This one was super sweet (got me feeling all fluffy) and I hope that you like it Babes. 

Chris had his head ducked under the bathroom sink, looking for the dog shampoo, Dodger had gotten himself muddy in the fresh spring grass and tracked through the house. Chris’s first goal, get the mud off him before tackling the floors. 

“April showers bring May flowers... and muddy prints all over Y/N rug Bubba.” Chris glared a bit at Dodger who was now sitting in the bathtub, wagging his bushy tail to thump thump thump against the tubs side. Chris sighed with amusement and reached over to give the dog a rub on the ears.

“Just be patient boy, we will get you situated before you know it.”

A bark was given in agreement, and Chris ducked his head back under the sink, and then started looking in some drawers, wondering if it got stuck somewhere else when a box tumbled out at Chris’s feet. He bent down to collect it and put it back when he happened to notice what it was.

A pregnancy test?!

Chris sat on the edge of the tub suddenly, and just stared at his hand a moment. It wouldnt be unusual for you to keep a test right? Just in case. Nothing was ever a hundred percent sure proof as far as birth control, and it was best to be safe then sorry. Dodger rested his head on the edge of the tub and his big eyes looked up at his human, giving a slight whine at the difference in Chris. Absently his hand went to pet Dodger, who nosed him back to the present.

“Hey boy... what do you think I should do?” Chris eased the box up on the bathroom counter and stared at it a moment. “Should I ask Y/N about it? Or just... assume its nothing?” Dodger tilted his head and gave another whine, getting impatient at being stuck in the tub. “Okay, Okay Bubba, hang tight.” Chris grinned and move to his knees on the outside of the tub, turning on the water. “I know, youve been so patient Bubba, lets get you cleaned up and go find Y/N” No he didnt have the dog shampoo, but he could get the mud off and put it on the list of supplies needed.

You were just coming inside from picking up the yard, and listened to hear Chris talking to Dodger upstairs in the bathroom, You had to smile to yourself, brushing your hand across your sweaty dirty forehead to wipe away the stray hairs plastered, and went for a glass of water. Fretting a bit as you glanced at the calendar, you thought back on your purchase yesterday. You had told yourself purchasing it if Aunt Flo hadnt turned up today, well... You were gonna have to tell Chris and take the test. This was honestly a first for you, having had to recently go off your regular birth control and hadnt yet gotten a new one started.

It scared you, rationally you knew better, Chris had always said that kids were something he wanted in the future and he couldnt wait to be a daddy. It was his term In the future. What if he wasnt ready for this? What if you werent? His career was at its peak, daily there was offers for him to sort through, show interest in or pass along, you were busy with your shop, and it needed all your time right now. Your hand grasped the counter, going white knuckled at the idea of it all suddenly overwhelming, the glass you held shook slightly, but you didnt notice. You were lost in a moment, your thoughts taking over, and Chris’s voice broke through. “Baby? Y/N?”

A slight jump sloshed the water. “Oh shit... “ You hurriedly say and set the glass down, grabbing a rag to wipe it up. Chris came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you to calm you down, kissing your shoulder. “Sorry, I didnt mean to startle you Babygirl.”

“Ugh, Im just jumpy” Your still wiping up the counter, when he set the box down in front of you, and you zip right up, staring at it.

“I happened to find this looking for Dodgers soap.” He eased you around to face him, his hands rubbing along your sides gently to ease you. Your eyes lift and his, well his blue ones looked hopeful at you, seeming to want you to confirm what he was suspecting.

“I- I bought it yesterday, it occurred to me that Im late. And well going off birth control, it takes a while to get back into the swing of things, but its been a while since ive stopped and.... You just, never know.”

“you never know... “ Chris’s voice echoed back and you bit your lip, pulling in a bit closer so his arms slid around your hips and you looked up at him.

“I should take it, I have been holding off, wanting to tell you, but now that you know, well theres no more reason to wait.” You reach behind you and take the box, peeling it open and taking out one of the sticks. “Uuuhh, how will you feel if its positive?” You fret with the wrapper, a bit scared of the answer.

Chris’s fingers slip under your chin and tilt your face up to meet his, warm lips press against yours and his tongue slips past the seam of your lips to glide around yours. It was a passionate, loving kiss, your hand dropping the stick to slide your hand around the back of his neck, sighing softly against his lips when you two part.

“If were pregnant Y/N, nothing would make me happier. I love you, and cant wait to see you radiant with that baby bump.”

“You mean you cant wait to see me fat and all bloated?” You teased him, so relieved to hear how absolute he was in his answer.

“Oh babygirl, I will have such a hard time keeping my hands off you, all the back rubs and belly kisses, watching you ride on top of me to get pleasure.” He grinned, at all he was describing and you rolled your eyes playfully, about to reach down for the stick, but he swept down first and handed you the still wrapped test.

“Well dont get to excited Chris, cause it might just be me after all.” You warned him, and took his hand, leading him up the stairs towards the master bath. When you two enter, you look at him nervously. He cupped your face and kissed your forehead. “Are you ready to have a baby?” Chris simply asked, and you nodded. “Lets find out then if thats in the cards for us today then.”

You went inside and looked over your shoulder to see him go to sit on the edge of the bed, his hands folded between his knees, ready to wait as long as you needed. You close the door a bit for a bit of privacy and do your business. Sitting it on the edge, you pace around and walk back out, Chris’s head whips up, a questioning look. “Now we wait.” You say as you go to sit next to him, but he isnt having it and he draws you into his lap, rubbing the small of your back.

“Can you imagine... our lives with a couple kids?” You ask him and he cant help but grin, thinking about it.

“I can and have.” He states, falling into what hes imagined, your head tilted watching as his face lit up, eyes growing wide and gleaming with the idea. “The pitter patter of feet running down the hallway with Dodger right behind to jump in bed with us, cuddling right up to there momma.” He brushed his lips against your neck, breathing your soft scent in. “Getting up middle of the night to check for monsters in the closet, plan out birthday parties, family vacations, getting to cuddle with all of you watching cartoons for the night.” He continued on, and you couldnt help but ache for all that to.

“Family dress up for Halloween. Can you imagine how many times they would want to be avengers? Since there dad is captain america after all.” You giggle a bit, and he embraces you against his chest, chuckling softly.

“I might even still fit into it at that point. Maybe. Okay baby, times up. Want me to come with you?”

You slip up and pause him. “No, be right back Handsome.” Slipping into the bathroom, you pick up the stick, and your heart sinks slightly. It was a negative. You couldnt help but feel overwhelming disappointment at it. Going back out, you shake your head softly.

“Im sorry Chris...” You start but he interrupts you and pulls you closer to him.

“Hey, theres no need to be upset.” He assured you, and when you look him in the eyes, theres a determined glint in those blue orbs, and he wiggled his brows, sweeping you to lay on the bed, and he moved over you, kissing down your neck, growling softly through his kisses and his hands slid under your shirt.  

“Just means we get to work on making a baby more often.”

You had to admit, you rather liked the sounds of that.

[rhaenyratargeryn]

31 Days of Wayhaven

Prompt: Day 5, Moon Pairing: Adam du Mortain x f!detective Summary: Unit Bravo and the detective visit the local Halloween bonfire and things (oh god im gonna say it) HEAT UP between the detective and the commanding agent. Come and get ya pining juice. Notes: The idea is that Adam and the detective are KINDA in a relationship by now. They have definitely kissed and then promptly never discussed it. So yeah. By Adam’s standards they are practically engaged. Ao3 link

Meadow Outside Wayhaven, October 31. Halloween Night.

Even from their place atop the far hill overlooking the meadow, the light from the roaring bonfire was visible, casting an orange glow across the dark field, only stopping where the milk-light of the moon blended it out from pastel to pale silver.

The moon was full this year and would be all the way unto November 1st. The veil between the worlds was already thin around this season, for reasons the Agency had yet to divine, and the presence of the moon served to even further part the rifts.

It was as much a holiday for the humans of Wayhaven as it was for the inhumans. A time where they could more readily slip their glamor and live openly… though as Adam painted it, few took such a risk. Unit Bravo was on patrol, even tonight of all nights, but it was a half-hearted one as even Adam had come to sit as near to her as he would allow.

Farah was down among the people, mingling with a growing entourage of admirers as she asked endless questions on their costumes and their customs— playing the “small town southern girl from the States” card enough to let any questions they might have slide. Nate was doing the lord's work, taking it upon himself to mingle with the Mayor alongside Rebecca, a task the detective was happy to relent.

Morgan… the detective couldn’t quite recall when she last saw Morgan, but most likely the solitude was doing the agent good as she kept up checking the perimeter away from the strong smell of burning wood and the chatter of people.

The detective shifted, fishing a rock out from beneath the soft flannel blanket she had spread out on the side of the small hill and chucking it away. When she resettled, she gingerly shifted closer to Adam, feeling more keenly the warmth coming from him when she did so.

“Are you cold?” Adam’s voice nearly startled a jump from her, his green eyes turned with concern to her, “You should have brought a thicker jacket.”

To be honest, she wasn’t that cold, not really.

“Yeah, kinda a weird balance between freezing and roasting out here.”

She hoped it was enough of a white lie that he wouldn’t sense the change in her pulse or her breathing. Could he even do that? God, she hoped he couldn’t do that.

Adam was silent for a moment, his attention going straight ahead again towards the flames. The tension in his body was hard to ignore and the reason for it obvious when the detective felt his arm brush slowly at her lower back. He kept his grip loose, but it was unmistakably there as Adam settled his arm around her waist. 

He seemed at a loss for what to do with his hand, so kept it balled into a slight fist and pressed at her side.

“Is… that better?”

No. Because now she was absolutely, most definitely combusting.

“Yes.”

Adam seemed satisfied because he did not press the subject further. In fact, he was doing his best to not appear to notice her at all, despite the fact she was fairly certain she was all he could notice by the way he was still holding unto so much tension in his shoulders. He seemed determined now to do his best not to move.

She noted to her annoyance, she had frozen up too. They were never going to get anywhere if every time they so much as touched they transformed into statues. The detective remembered at the carnival how she had leaned over and rested her head on Adam’s shoulder… how he had not drawn away and if anything he had softened beneath the touch. 

Maybe that would happen now? Or maybe it would send him scrambling away from her. There was only one way to find out and so, as tentatively as he had reached out around her, the detective slid herself flush against his side and let her head gently fall back against his shoulder.

It took everything in her to get her heart to quiet and her muscles to uncoil, taking in a deep breath and releasing it in a sigh… a very contented sigh at that. She had no idea where it had come from beneath the layers of anxiety and longing that often twisted in her when Adam was around. But then again, nothing terrible had happened, neither of them turned into monsters or burst into flames… Adam was holding her and the world, miraculously, was not ending.

Neither of them spoke. She felt Adam’s touch become more confident, the pressure firmer as his fingers uncoiled themselves from a fist and spread out on her hip. 

The detective wasn’t sure what possessed her to place her hand on top of his, a perfect smaller mirror, curling her fingers between his own. Just enough to guide them. 

And Adam was letting her.

The drag of his palm over the denim left a trail of heat that she could feel down to her skin. His hand a warm solid weight that now so easily came to rest on the side of her thigh. 

She heard him swallow, the sound catching her gaze as she turned slightly to see if she could make out his expression.

Warmth erupted from the top of her spine down to her core when she saw Adam was not looking away, he wasn’t even looking at her really, but at his hand on her. Icy green eyes were dazed, dream-like and far away. She felt his fingers flex, just barely kneading the softness of her thigh before he drew it back up and stroked down the length again in one slow, languid motion.

The detective’s hand was still on top of his, but she was doing nothing to guide him now.

Adam had moved his palm closer to her inner thigh, his thumb stretching out to rub a small circle at the furthest most point he could reach. There was absolutely no reason for her mouth to go dry and for her to feel the sharpest most delicious ache deep within her center. Just this tiny brush of contact, so far away and yet so close to where she really wanted him, needed him, was enough to make her breath catch in her throat and heat bloom on her cheeks.

“Woods are clear.”

Morgan’s voice sent a different kind of fire through the detective as she jolted nearly upright. Adam, to his credit, had let his arm go immediately lax, leaning back on his palms and all traces of the previous contact smoothly removed.

The detective noted, as he spoke, that her back still touched along his arm. He had moved, yes, but he was still touching her. A part of her demanded she read nothing into it and yet another, louder part of her demanded just the opposite.

“Good,” Adam said with a nod,,  “It seems to be setting out to be a quiet night. If you’d like to join the others, I can see no reason why you should not.”

Adam’s voice was curt, but it was nothing Morgan would find offensive. He had not turned to look at the other agent yet, so the detective risked a glance over his shoulder at Morgan now.

The positively shit eating grin the dark haired woman was wearing was enough to make the detectives own expression sour. She mouthed a silent but good natured fuck off Morgan’s way, which only made her grin wider as she pressed a cigarette to her lips and chuckled darkly.

“I think I’ll do that.” Morgan answered, to her or Adam, the detective couldn’t say.

And with that Morgan swaggered off down to the bonfire, accosted immediately by Farrah and her gaggle of admirers…. though judging by the way Morgan seemed to be sauntering closer to one such woman, that was probably part of her new evening plans.

Adam did not put his arm around her again, the detective doing her best to repress a pout. They sat in silence once more, but the detective noticed that the tension did not return, and, after a few lengths of a heartbeat… his arm slowly, but purposefully wrapped around her again.

“Tell me if you get too warm. I will move over.” He mumbled, trying and failing at playing off a disinterested and business like manner to his actions.

The detective couldn’t find it in herself to find fault with that, she was too busy getting comfortable once more, laying her head on his shoulder and smiling to herself as she did so.

“I’m freezing. Positively Arctic. Will be all night most likely.” She said, voice a perfect picture of bliss.

Adam’s own smile was faint.

“But do let me know if your arm falls asleep.” She added quickly.

“Would you even move if I did?”

“No, but I promise to feel really bad about it.”

“Considerate of you.” Adam chuckled, but did not protest her declaration. His warmth, the smell of his cologne, woods and spice and the smoke and heat from the bonfire beneath it all did as much to soothe her as it did to set her nerves aflame themselves. One day she promised to herself and to him, in the dark under the Samhain moon, she would feel those hands on her thighs again.

#adam du mortain x detective #adam du mortain x fdetective #adam du mortain #twc fanfic #the wayhaven chronicles #twc adam du mortain #also features a brief cameo of Farrah Nate and Morgan #but only Morgan speaks #31daysofwayhaven #twc

[billhaderlovebot]

beep beep (3) - richie tozier.

(how fucking babey is this man?? i??? hhhh???)

@ceruleanrainblues @the-star-above-you @a-second-hand-sorrow

ok! so! some like, violence type stuff? some fluff, some angst, richie being babey, bad language, sex references. here we go lesbians.

---

it had taken richie everything in him not to break when he had returned from the arcade. not to just unravel in front of you and let himself go.

but he didn't. he couldn't.

and he couldn't, now, either.

when pennywise, with gnarled, elongated hands and fingers that almost looked barbed, lifted you from the ground.

ripped you from richie's arms and held you struggling in the air.

"always the hardest to scare." It said, and you groaned in discomfort as It's hot breath fanned the back of your neck, its clawed, twisted hand tightening around your waist. "always the fighter."

"you get the fuck off of her, right the fuck now." richie gritted his teeth, clenching and unclenching his fists. yeah, he was probably going to throw up.

--

richie loved you.

obviously.

he had loved you every single day of his life since he was fourteen fucking years old. every single day.

he knew, now, staring at you, your body curled around his protectively even though you were so much smaller, that his wretched heart would continue to love you for every moment of the rest of his life (plus two or three weeks, for good measure.)

often, when you were kids and you'd nap together in his bed because his parents were out (they were always out) and you needed to be near each other, he would fall asleep after you, just so he could lay awake and watch you breathe. watch you exist so serenely and look so fucking soft in his arms that he could have cried. you looked frightfully vulnerable when you were asleep, though, which always bothered him.

now, years later, you were no different. breaths coming slow and warm and ghosting across the crook of his neck where you had buried your face. so small. so vulnerable.

richie subconsciously held you a little tighter.

he would do anything for you, good lord.

even if it killed him.

you'd been asleep for about a half hour, but richie couldn't drift off.

richie hadn't told you about his artefact because the guilt that came with it sat on his chest like a fucking dumbbell. guilt, because he hadn't told you something very, very important.

you were not his first love.

but eddie kaspbrak was.

and he was guilty. guilty because he had moved on and because he had hidden such a huge part of his life from you. you, who wasn't his first love, but would undoubtedly be his last.

you, who was the love of his life.

eddie had been the first person he'd ever felt any sort of love for. when they were young, before you, and eddie would obsessively straighten the collars of his hawaiian shirts and clean his glasses for him and put band-aids on cuts and scrapes and used curse words that rivalled his own. eddie was the only one to care about him when his parents didn't. richie loved him so, so much and it had awakened a part of him he'd been ashamed of ever since.

it had been a sort of relief when he had met you, really, because he could pass himself off to the world as a normal guy with a normal girlfriend and a normal life. normal.

and oh, how he would do anything for you.

the girl who swore like a fucking sailor and held him tight and got so stoned she couldn't walk while listening to the cure on her portable radio. you'd been his distraction, to begin with, but he found himself falling fast and hard for you.

it scared him, how much he loved you. he'd never fallen so hard. he'd never given so much of himself to another person, bearing his soul to you because you were the only person he wanted to see it.

he'd come to you for solace and comfort, and had ended up loving you so much that nothing else mattered to him. and the day he'd kissed you in the clubhouse was perhaps the best decision of his life. the towering tsunami that was his love for you, crashing over him in almost overwhelming waves, kept him going for two fucking decades.

there was a smaller wave, though, too. smaller, but potent, lapping at his ankles and reminding him that he was not, by any stretch of the imagination, as normal as he wanted to be. as normal as he willed himself to be. because... he loved you, but once upon a time, he had loved eddie kaspbrak. so much.

he had carved your initials onto the kissing bridge the same day he had kissed you for the first time, bigger, and far away from eddie's, as if it would erase what had used to be.

it couldn't erase it, of course. erase what was, and always would be, a part of him.

richie tozier was...

he was different.

and he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why it had happened to him. he had always been told it was wrong.

wrong, wrong, wrong. run, you fucking fairy.

and he had run. so fucking far. even now, when his job was to be controversial, he couldn't fucking say it. he could think of nothing more controversial than being b...

than liking both.

i mean, he could, but after years of being told how fucking weird and perverted and wrong it was by people who didn't even know him, he expected a certain reaction. richie glanced over to his jacket hanging on the back of the door, where the arcade token sat in the pocket. well, fuck.

you stirred a few minutes later, looking up at him with sleepy eyes and a tired smile, and, in that moment, everything was okay.

he kissed you, then. softly. ever so softly and almost like he was afraid you would break.

"what was that for?" you asked after he pulled away, heat rushing to your cheeks.

"i just... love you. that's all." his voice was quiet. "im so fucking in love with you."

you didn't notice anything out of the ordinary until tears welled in his eyes, his lips shaking as he held something back.

"richie? what's-"

"marry me." richie whispered, wiping his eyes and leaning his forehead against yours.

"huh?"

"let's get married, baby."

"yeah. yeah, okay."

----

you had gone absolutely fucking mental when richie had been caught in the deadlights, his eyes clouding and his face devoid of any emotion. beverly had had to hold you back to stop you from going right after him, screaming for him at the top of your lungs because he was floating.

he was floating away and you were going to lose him to the jaws of hell.

"RICHIE!"

"stop!" bev had pleaded. "stop it, you can't do anything! he's too far up!"

you hated her for that. for just a split second, you hated her. and you were kicking and screaming and crying, hot tears sliding down your face faster than you were sure you could make them.

and before you knew what was up:

"BEEP BEEP, MOTHERFUCKER!"

eddie had yelled, launching the monster-killer right down Its fucking throat. and then richie was on the ground, disoriented and spluttering, and, bev, with a sigh of relief, let go of you. out of the corner of your eye, you saw It, struggling and vomiting what might have been actual lava but also looked strangely like blood. your mind cast back to richie and then you were by his side, shaking him awake.

"richie! fuck!" you were aware of just how loud you were sobbing, grabbing him and holding his head to your chest. "you fucking idiot, oh, fuck, i love you." and he was wrapping his shaking arms around you, panicking and probably crying because he had been caught in the deadlights and what the fuck.

"rich!" eddie was ecstatic, kneeling beside the two of you. "i did it, richie. i think i killed it, guys!"

"EDDIE, LOOK OUT!"

you didn't know what was going on, really, until a colossal, razor sharp claw dug itself into the rock where eddie had just fucking been.

and you were sure you'd never been more thankful for ben hanscom and his intuition.

"holy shit, eds." you just about shrieked.

"it's not dead!" richie was suddenly alert, dragging the three of you to your feet as pennywise crawled up from the ground, the spikes it had fallen on making a wet crunching sound as It tore itself off of them.

everything was happening so fucking fast, and you must have zoned out or something, because all of a sudden you were in the fucking air, torn away from a screaming richie. the sharp, jutting bones of it's long fingers dug into your torso as you were lifted, flailing.

"always the hardest to scare. always the fighter." pennywise all but giggled.

"you get the fuck off of her, right the fuck now." you knew what it sounded like when richie was trying to keep his cool, and right now, he was not doing a very good job.

"are you scared now?" It asked you, grinning from ear to ear. "are you scared, richie's girl?"

"FUCK OFF, YOU BIG DUMB ASSHOLE!" any attempt to kick and struggle was cut short by It's tightening fist, and the sharp ridges of It's fingers cutting into you.

oh, and, yeah, ouch, that was a cracked rib. fuck.

"you are." It growled. "i can smell you."

the losers on the ground stared up in frantic horror, flocking around richie and eddie.

"maybe i should take him, instead. your richie."

"YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM!"

"i told you i'd get you, richie's girl."

it flicked a long, black tongue over its razor teeth.

"AND I TOLD YOU THAT IM NOT FUCKING AFRAID OF YOU, YOU STUPID CLOWN."

it's face dropped.

its eyes rolled back into its head.

it fucking smiled.

and then, as if you were a ragdoll it was tired of playing with, it tossed you aside.

richie heard it. the fucking sound. the crunch as your body collided with the jagged rocks at the other end of the sewer. he retched and heaved and his legs didn't seem to be working anymore.

he saw your body crumple, and the scream that erupted from his throat wasn't quite human.

---

"you need to wake up." richie held your hand in his own, the wires protruding from your wrist making him feel sick. "you gotta wake up, baby." the steady beep of your heart monitor was the only thing stopping him from going completely fucking insane. "cmon, we're getting married, so... so you gotta come back to me." richie ignored the bile rising in his throat at the sight of you with tubes and wires spilling from every part of you that wasn't cast in bandages. you looked so fucking broken. "we've already lost so much time... and we need to catch up." richie couldn't find it in himself to crack a joke. this was the first time he'd been really, truly happy since he was seventeen, and now it was all hanging in the balance.

richie had heard from bill the morbid account of your injuries. the doctor wasn't able to tell richie, directly, as he was going on a fucking rampage outside, throwing trash cans and yelling and such.

you'd almost died in the operating theatre twice, he had also heard from bill.

"sh-she had uh, bad in-internal b-b-bl-bleeding. they almost c-couldn't stop it."

but they had stopped it. and now you were here. you were alive. but you'd been out for a good three days, and every hour that passed, richie was less and less sure you'd wake up again.

beverly had had to coax richie into a bathroom to clean himself up, bringing him a clean outfit, because he flat out refused to go back to the inn and shower and change. he wouldn't leave you here. she allowed him to cry on her shoulder, and she knew that he only cried in front of you, which threw her, but she held him and let him cry until he couldn't anymore.

"mr tozier?" the nurse who came in regularly to change your feeding tube and medicine and such was stood by the door, clipboard in hand.

"yeah?" he croaked, not making a move to stand up.

"there's someone here to see you."

richie was sure it could have been the queen of fucking england, or freddie mercury risen from the grave, and he would have told them to fuck off.

"will you, uh, send them in?" richie requested. he hadn't left you for more than ten minutes the whole time you'd been admitted. "i don't wanna-"

"of course, mr tozier." said the nurse, nodding sympathetically and backing out of the room. the door clicked shut behind her.

moments later, richie heard a voice.

"sorry, but, who exactly are you?" said the voice. richie looked up from your hand, which he was still holding, by the way.

a smallish, mousy brown-haired man stood at the door, his hair slicked back with far too much wax that didn't do anything for his terribly receding hairline. "and why are you holding my wife's hand?"

ah. the husband. fuck.

"oh, yeah. right." richie didn't let go of you. "you must be, uhh... umm..."

"timothy. timothy milo." the man said with an air of superiority. richie would lay this guy the fuck out.

"oh, yeah, of course." he nodded, squeezing your fingers gently.

"forgive me," said timothy, pulling up a chair. "forgive me, but, my wife has been missing for almost a week, now, and i get a call saying she's here, in... in derry? is it? battered, and... and comatose."

richie had only known the guy for all of thirty seconds, but he'd knock out those perfect, sickeningly white teeth in a heartbeat. "yeah, there was... an accident-"

"and richie tozier, big-shot comedian from malibu, is holding her hand and looking like... his whole world has been torn down."

timothy was becoming increasingly irate, and richie found it more than a little bit funny. he raised his hands in defense.

"look, man-"

"i ask you again, tozier, who exactly are you? to her, i mean."

and richie had... no idea what to say. for once in his life. no sarcasm, no witty comebacks. nothing.

"well... i fucking love her, man." was all he could think.

and then, with a crunch, timothy milo's manicured fist collided with the side of richie's face.

---

you didn't remember much.

the only thing you could fathom was a faint beeping sound, and a warm, calloused hand on top of yours. you cracked one eye open (with great difficulty) and sighed in relief. it was him.

your richie. disheveled and distraught, but your richie, all the same.

"r-r-r-" your throat was so fucking dry. it hurt to speak. "rich..." was all you managed, your fingers twitching under his hand.

"holy fuck." the smile that lit up his face was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. he had a rather large bruise on his left cheekbone, and his eyes were red and puffy, but he grinned so big and so bright that you could have burst into tears. "you're awake."

"and y-you're... beautiful." you croaked.

"woah, how hard did you hit your head?" he joked, sniffling, a tear slipping down his cheek. he kissed your hand, mindful of the tubes.

"that... that looks like... a punch, richie." you noted, eyeing the purple bruise that started on his cheekbone and ended below his eye.

"you should see the other guy." richie sniffed, a sad smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes. it hurt you.

"wh-who?"

"timothy fucking milo." richie scoffed, rolling his eyes in a manner that reminded you of stanley.

"he was... he was here?" your head fucking hurt.

"yeah. gone now. after i told him what was what. fucking asshole."

"wh-"

"another time, babe. you're not up for it."

and you knew he was right. you'd only properly processed about half of the words he'd said.

"i've been outta my fucking mind waiting for you to wake up, yknow. don't do that again." richie said, dragging his hands down his face and rolling his shoulders. his back hurt from sleeping here for just under four days, leaning over the cot and holding your hand.

"it wasn't... my fucking fault... you asshole... it was... oh my god. It."

"we won't dig that up now, huh?" richie interjected. "you rest up a little, i'll chat to you about boring shit, you'll perhaps give me a sympathy hand-job, and when you're a little less drugged up, we can talk about the heavy stuff."

"okay." your attempt at a nod was feeble as fuck. "and... sympathy hand-job?"

"yeah. for making me fight your husband and cry for three days. in no particular order." richie explained, as if it were obvious.

"do you want me to... pull your dick off with my medicine tubes?"

his eyes widened.

"no, ma'am."

"then... shut up." you whined, breathless. your chest burned and your side hurt and you didn't even want to talk about your legs.

"i need more drugs, trash-mouth." you groaned, and he leaned over you to press the red button to alert the nurses.

"believe it or not, you've said that to me before." richie snorted. "no chance of a hand-job, then?"

"beep beep, richie."

#it richie #adult richie #richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #it chapter 2 #it 2019 #losers club x reader

[monster-bait]

Monster Match: Alon the Sea Krait Naga

For @lovelylittlenova​...thank you for being patient as I finished Fionnghall! (it was SO HARD keeping this SFW!)😂 Hi! Could I get a match please? Im female, 25, 59 and Bi. I am often playing video games between college classes. I love holidays and decorating. Im the scary looking but gentle type that has a soft spot for animals. 

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You walked out of class that day with a spring in your step. 

Your last final was officially over, and the winter intersession stretched before you—several glorious weeks of rest and relaxation, of sleeping in and video games and Netflix before the new semester began, and you intended on taking full advantage of every moment of freedom you could. 

You’d always loved the holidays, loved decorating your small apartment with garland and twinkling lights. There was something about snow—the magical way it would blanket everything, the way it coated the trees and hid the grime and ugly bits of the city—that made you giddy every year as you looked forward to the approaching holidays. This would be the first year you did not travel to be with family: money was tight and resources slim, and you lived clear across the country for school, but everyone understood. Weekly care packages of cookies and groceries had been steadily arriving from home, and you were determined not to be sad or lonely, although it would be hard. 

The snow was beautiful, but it also made you volunteer job an even bigger priority.

You’d started volunteering at the cat shelter the previous year, and it had quickly become one of your favorite places. Kitties that had overstayed their welcome at the city pound were scooped up by the organization where they would live until appropriate homes--foster or permanent could be arranged. Your job was to man the phones and play with the cats, three days a week, and you couldn’t have been happier with the way you’d chosen to spend that time. Now that the cold weather was here, it was even more important to find homes for the current cats, clearing space for new arrivals from the local pound.

It was the shelter where you found yourself sitting just a few hours later, a calico bundle of fluff curled up fast asleep in your lap. When the phone rang, you were unsurprised by the slightly sibilant voice on the other end.

“How did your finalsss go?” he asked sweetly, and you blushed before answering. He ran a foster house, located about two hours away, on the coast. Remotely located, he’d explained to you once before, but he’d been successful at permanently homing close to half a dozen of the cats he’d taken in over the course of the year. The first time he’d called when you’d answered, shortly after you started with the shelter, he’d seemed bashful, stammering and hissing, surprised to be talking to someone other than the no-nonsense owner.

Since then, you’d gotten to know Alon pretty well. He called at least once or twice a week, and you’d long ago dispensed with the pretext of the calls being strictly about the cats, although you always brought him up to speed on your favorites, and told him about your own cat, a little tabby, who was the reason you’d wound up at the shelter in the first place. 

“I’ll-I’ll be up there sssoon,” he blurted, as soon as you’d finished telling him about the TA who’d fallen asleep during the exam he was proctoring, his loud snores a distraction from the work until one of your peers, a spotted gnoll, had tapped him awake. “Just before the holidaysss...I’m picking up a few new buddies to take back...I hope we get a chance to meet at last.”

Your stomach tightened with nerves at the thought. You’d been told you possessed a consummate RBF, and that was from friends. People found you intimidating, even though you were a big softy, and you were much more comfortable talking to the cats you minded in the shelter than any of the people who came by to look for pets. The notion of your very enjoyable phone calls with Alon coming to an end because he found you awkward made your heart flip, and you didn’t want to concede why. 

It was hard to admit that you’d developed a crush on him, but you knew it was true—he was kind, loved cats, and he made you laugh, and even though you occasionally daydreamed about what he might look like, you didn't want anything to get in the way of the friendship you’d formed.

The days passed and you spent a fantastic amount of time burritoed in a fluffy comforter, playing video games and catching up on your streaming. Alon hadn’t mentioned visiting the shelter again, and you’d put it out of mind until the day you arrived for your scheduled shift, just two days before Christmas. You’d just hung up the phone, answering a question about blanket donations, when the shelter owner entered the room, laughing. 

Behind her moved the most striking Naga you’d ever seen, and your mouth went dry.

His impossibly long tail trailed out into the hallway—white scales banded in gleaming black, leading to a slim human torso which was currently encased in a snug, black sweater. He was finely boned, with high cheekbones and thin, bloodless lips, although they were currently pulled into a hesitant smile. 

“This is one of our volunteers,” the owner told him, before turning to you with a smile. “I’d like to introduce you to one of our most successful foster dads!”

She processed to rattle off the statistics on how many of the shelter’s cats for whom Alon had managed to successfully find forever homes, all things you knew. He was blushing, you realized, as his icy white skin splotched with faint blue. He wore a pair of square-framed black glasses, but behind them, darting to yours nervously, were the most beautiful cerulean blue eyes you’d ever seen.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he murmured shyly, ducking his head, before the owner led him on.

It wasn't until your shift was nearly over that you saw him again. His black hair looked glossy and long, but was currently pulled into a twist at the back of his head, and you watched, slightly hypnotized by the way his body swayed in place as he read through the medical records of the cats in the room. 

“I-I’m glad you made it up here safely. When do you head back to the coast?”

He blew out an exasperated breath as he turned. “Not for a few dayss, apparently. I don’t drive, obviously, and the transport I’d arranged doesn’t want to risk their driver getting stuck out there on Christmass, the coastal roads can get pretty icy. I understand, but I’d be lying if I sssaid I wasn’t disappointed.” He ducked his head then, cheeks spotting with blue once more. “I don’t celebrate Christmass, but I-I like the lights and decorations, the way everyone is happier. The snow on the water is beautiful...”

He broke off again, and you felt heat bloom through your chest. You’d be spending the holiday alone, he was alone...there was no reason for it, you decided.

“What about your cats?”

He shrugged gracefully. “I’ve already called a friend. She’ll come by with her kids and make sure they’re taken care of while I’m gone. She’d one of the permanent homes we found. Her family applied to three different shelters and were turned down by all three. The humans who ran them just assumed lizard people would eat the catsss. That’s why I’m so successful at placing, I find good homess outside of the traditional community.”

“We all have love to share,” you agree, your turn to blush when his blue eyes raised from behind the black frames to meet yours. “There are really nice decorations in the little town square, and my apartment is full of twinkle lights...if you’re going to be stuck here, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have a nice, home-cooked meal.”

Alon’s smile curved up, and you wondered how soft his lips were. “That-that soundss wonderful..I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you over the past few monthsss.”

The phone rang and you turned to answer, taking a moment to compose yourself, to steady your breathing. You’d make him dinner with the loads of grocery care packages you’d been sent from home, would watch the snow softly falling on the town square as you snuggled feline balls of fluff, and you might just found out about his lips after all. 

It would be a merry Christmas, and hopefully, you thought, the start to a wonderful new year.

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Monster Matches available on my ko-fi!

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