#scream: curse of carnage spoilers

[silens-oro]

Spoils of War: 8. A Duty Fulfilled

Aemond Targaryen x F!Targaryen!Reader Minor side relationships with the reader will be present throughout this.

Spoils of War Masterlist Masterlist

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Synopsis: The truth emerges.

Word Count: ~8.3k

General Warning: 18+. POTENTIAL SPOILERS FOR UPCOMING HOTD EPISODES. Targaryen uncle/niece incest (lite, nothing truly weird other than they are both Targaryens), blood, gore, murder, child murder, ptsd. Let me know if I’ve missed any!

AN: It's been 200 years, but I am back! Next chapter will be super long. We'll get some Cregan. We'll get some battles. We'll get some dragons. Thank you for sticking around!

Likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated.

Your horse did not stop fully before you jumped from it. Dirt kicked up behind you as you sprinted up the steps and through the side door to the guards quarters. 

“Princess?” A guard on duty -a tall, sturdy man near your father’s age called in surprise as you ran past him. 

“Ser Erryk -where is he?” You asked urgently, breathing heavily as you continued past him. 

“I saw him not ten minutes past, my Princess!” He ran behind you, understanding that something was amiss. 

“Where has he gone?” You nearly screamed, slowing down so he could catch up with you.. 

“I-” A shrill scream of a maid echoed through the halls.

Without looking at the guard you took off into a full sprint towards the noise. More and more guards followed behind you as you traversed through the halls and into the main hall that led to Keep. As you got closer, the sharp clashing of swords colliding met your ears. 

The line of guards behind you ran past and you were nearly trampled when you stopped in your tracks. 

Erryk and Arryk Cargyll were in a vicious tangle of swords, each meeting the other blow for blow. Two guards put themselves between you and the fighting brothers in the wide hall. Heart racing, your eyes flashed to the other end of the corridor when your name was called. The furious eyes of your father cemented your feet to the floor. 

Your attention was brought back to the dueling brothers when Erryk landed a devastating blow to Arryk’s shoulder, nearly cleaving his sword arm from his body. Blood sprayed from the wound as Erryk pulled his sword free and the beginnings of a scream made its way free from your mouth but was cut by your hands covering your face at the sight. 

With his intact arm, Arryk pulled a dagger free from his belt and swung at Erryk, landing an inevitably fatal blow to his gut. With that, Arryk collapsed onto his back, pulling Erryk with him in a groaning, bloody, squabbling heap. 

Both brothers, mortally wounded, lay cursing each other on the ground as they bled out. 

“Fucking traitor!” Erryk growled down to his brother, startling you with how much hatred and anger was held in his voice. In every interaction you had with Ser Erryk, he never spoke of his twin and you could guess that this was why. Had you and Jace, even without the twin connection, been on opposite sides of this war…you couldn’t imagine the pain and heartache it must have created between them. 

The commotion died down soon after Arryk’s final bloody gurgle of life. Your father pushed two guards towards Erryk and ordered them to carry him to the infirmary, then made a beeline straight to you. You made to move around him to follow after Erryk, but Daemon grabbed your arm roughly. You pulled it back with equal force, startling him enough to let you go. This scene was startling, horrifying. Your knight was grasping to life by a single thread. Whatever your father had to say could wait. 

“If you wish to reprimand me, Kepa, then do it on the morrow.” You looked down to the carnage of Arryk’s inert body on the floor behind your father as he continued to bleed after life had left him. Your face mirrored your father’s as you returned his glare. You held his eyes for a moment before turning and making your way to the infirmary. 

Erryk’s shouts of agony shook you to your core as you made it to the maesters’ wing. You were stopped at the large doors by a guard. 

“This is not a place for you, Princess.” Erryk’s screams nearly shook the door from inside. You set the guard with the same menacing look you gave your father. 

“You will stand aside. I need not ask twice.” The guard nodded when you did not falter. 

“Apologies, Princess.” He stepped to the side and you pushed the doors open. Chaos ensued inside as maesters and a single nurse worked to stabilize Erryk in the first room to your right. 

Tears welled in your eyes as you watched them try to staunch the blood that seeped from his abdomen from outside of the room. Erryk’s pain filled eyes met yours and you had to bring a hand over your mouth to keep your sobs from escaping. 

“My Princess,” the Grandmaester gently placed his hands over your shoulders to move you from view of the room. “Please do not look at such atrocity.” He guided you to a chair to sit. 

“Will he live?” You asked hoarsely, eyes begging for a positive outcome. You knew it was foolish. You saw the damage that the Cargyll brothers inflicted on one another, but the look in the elderly man’s eyes said everything. 

“Unfortunately, my Princess, he has been wounded in such a way that repair cannot be done. He may pass tonight, he may linger for days -it is hard to tell.” The maester explained gently.

“But you are certain?” He nodded solemnly. “Has he been given milk of the poppy?”

“He refuses it.” You stood as the maesters and nurse exited the now silent room. 

“Have some prepared. He will take it.” Your tone held no room for argument. He nodded and scurried off as you slowly entered the candlelit room. Erryk’s tunic and jerkin were tossed in a pile on one of the tables against the wall. He lay shirtless in the bed, with a sheet pooled at his waist. A sheen of sweat covered his pale skin from his face down to his navel. A bloody gauze was wrapped around his midsection, but the bleeding seemed to have stemmed for the time being. 

Erryk’s crystalline eyes opened when you let out a small gasp for air. You hadn’t moved from the doorway, feeling as if you were intruding. 

“May I?” You whispered, motioning to the chair at his right side. Erryk gave you a small nod, and you closed the door behind you for privacy. “You are refusing milk of the poppy?” You questioned as you sat. 

“I need to be alert.” He replied with a groan as he winced. 

“You need to be comfortable.” You countered. He opened his mouth to argue, but you brought a hand up to silence him. “I will command it if need be, Erryk. Please.” His bloodshot eyes softened as he saw you up close. Tear tracks glistened in the candlelight and a deep frown marred your lips. A knock sounded at the door and you called out to enter. 

A young maester bowed his head to you as he entered the room and walked to the opposite side of the bed with a cup in his hand. Erryk looked at you, pleading silently, but you held firm. He sighed before allowing the maester to tip the liquid into his mouth. The maester scurried out of the room, closing the door silently behind him. 

“You should not be in here.” Erryk spoke softly with another wince. “I cannot bear for you to see me like this.” He groaned as he shifted in the bed to find comfort. 

“I will leave if it brings you peace.” You offered in a whisper, terrified that he would say yes. “But if you allow it, I would wish to remain at your side.” Erryk let the silence hang for a moment before answering. It seemed like he was having an internal battle with himself. His shaking hand slowly moved towards yours on the bed. Without question, you grasped it firmly within yours, squeezing it to give him comfort. 

“I have failed you.” Erryk’s voice was groggy; the milk of the poppy had hit him almost instantaneously and his eyes began to flutter. 

“You have not failed me.” It felt as if there was a stone lodged in your throat. “You have given me your loyalty and your trust, Erryk, in a time when I could turn to no other. And I know your heart holds a fondness for me -though ever dutiful, you would not allow yourself to act on it. Your affections do not go unreciprocated, I hope you know this.” You sniffled as you tried to keep your tears from falling. “It tears my heart in two to know what lies ahead.” Erryk freed his hand from your hold in a haze and lazily brought it to your cheek. His thumb rubbed over it tenderly. 

“I am not worthy of your tears, my Princess.” 

“You are.” You breathed, you held his rough hand to your face. “I command you to accept that.” With a soft smile, Erryk fell into the clutches of sleep. You brought his hand back to the bed, but you did not remove your hold on it. 

It was just before the sunrise when your eyes opened. Your body was bent forward in your chair with your head resting on the bed. Fingers trailed over your hair, pushing away the bits that had fallen forward as you slept. Erryk’s sunken eyes met yours when they opened. His skin turned pallid and gaunt in the few hours since he was brought to the infirmary. 

“I thought you were a figment of my imagination -a trick of the poppy.” Erryk’s voice was weak and his eyes tried their hardest to stay focused on you. Lips tilting in the faintest of smiles, you squeezed the palm in your hand.

You sat up in your chair when a knock sounded at the door and the same young maester from the night before entered. He bowed once more before requesting that you step outside so he could change the dressings. Nodding, you squeezed Erryk’s hand once more. 

“I will return.” You promised. Erryk nodded and braced himself. When you reached the maester, you leaned in close to his ear. “Ensure he has milk of the poppy at his side should he need it.” He nodded and set to work unwrapping the bandages. 

You shut the door behind you with a sigh. You leaned back against it for a moment to compose yourself before straightening your shoulders and beginning the walk back to your chambers. 

Your intention was to change into a clean pair of trousers and a new tunic, then return to Erryk as quickly as possible, but your father’s presence out on the balcony caused you to instantly deflate. He leaned against his forearms on the stone ledge, looking over the beaches of the island below. 

You straightened your back with your head held high and stepped straight through the room, joining him against the balcony’s edge. 

“You spent the night in the infirmary.” It wasn’t a question. “I should’ve ran your knight through myself when I discovered you were sneaking out of the Keep with him under the cover of darkness.” Daemon spoke, squinting as he looked ahead. “His suffering would not be so prolonged.” 

“It was hardly sneaking. We left through the front gates, for Gods’ sake.” You replied with an irritated roll of your eyes. “Affection is felt between us, Kepa, I will not lie,” You confessed, “but that is not why we have been leaving the Keep at night. Had our intentions been to merely fuck, we would not need to look outside of the Keep, I assure you.” Your father raised an inquisitive brow though his face remained unimpressed. “My virtue is still intact and Erryk’s duty to his Queen is of higher importance than any feelings he may or may not have for me. He would not abandon his oath and I would not have asked him to. This is just one more tragedy within this life to add to the ever growing list.” 

“I trust you would not lie to me.” 

“Believe my words or don’t. The outcome is the same either way.”

The severe look on his face broke and he held his arm wide to bring you to his chest, his arms held around your shoulders in an embrace only he could give. Out of instinct your arms wrapped around his waist and you held him just as tightly. 

“I have been given a second chance at life, Kepa.” You turned your head so he could see you fully. “I would not be surprised if Ser Erryk did not make it to see the next sunrise. I understand fully what is to come. I will soon be sent to the North and the war will wage on in the realm. I will allow myself this one small comfort, regardless of your feelings about it. I care not. We will all be dead by the end of this, I am sure of it. None of this will matter in the end.” Your father stared at you as you pulled away from him to sit on the chaise. Your elbows rested in your thighs and you rested your chin on your hands. 

“If you did not leave the safety of the castle for an amorous getaway, then what were you doing out there?” He questioned, genuinely curious. He leaned his back against the railing and crossed his arms. The grin you gave him was minimal, but your eyes…they were serpent-like and they told Daemon that what you kept close to your chest harbored danger. 

“You would not believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“I know you well enough to know you are not so open minded.” You licked your lips. “I will show you.” You stated with finality. Leaving no room for argument, you stood. “If you wish to sate your curiosity, I will be at the stables at the hour of the owl. I will not wait long.”

Daemon looked at you, unblinking for a long moment. He studied your face, trying to see any of your tells, but there was nothing. 

“Seeing is believing, Kepa.” You said with a wily grin. A mirror image of myself, he thought. It irked him sometimes, if he was honest. 

“If you insist upon it.” He sighed, making his way to the door, but not before shooting you one last look of mild irritation. 

The biting edge of the silence that filled the small council chamber was sharper than any blade. Alicent sat at the head of the table, her father standing over her left shoulder with Ser Criston to her right. 

Alicent’s dark, twitching eyes never left the scroll on the table and her ever present severe frown grew deeper and deeper with each passing second. 

“Find my son.” She ordered Criston, jaw clenching so hard Criston Cole thought her teeth would shatter at any moment. Her eyes held a world of fury as she finally looked up from the table. “Find Aemond.” 

Erryk seemed to waste further and further as each hour passed. His hand was gray and clammy in yours and his body trembled with feverish chills as the inevitable infection settled. 

The unpleasant odor of decay from his festering wound tinged the air of the small room, even with the far window open. It did not bother you as you watched his chest slowly rise and fall with each labored breath.  

Erryk was heavily dosed with milk of the poppy at your request and had been since you left him earlier that morning. His condition was declining rapidly. Sweat pooled in Erryk’s hair and on his gaunt skin, but he slept peacefully through the worst of it. You’d occasionally take a damp rag to his skin to give him any relief you could. 

That is what he deserved -peace. To die writhing in pain was an end you did not dare entertain with Erryk -not after he had sworn his loyalty to your mother’s claim to the Iron Throne. Not after he delivered your Grandfather’s crown to its rightful owner. Not after he was willing to die by dragon fire on the chance that you were wrong. His trust, faith, and loyalty had been devoted to you, and in turn you would not leave him to leave this world alone. 

Looking out of the window at the far end of the room, you noted the moon’s position in the sky and stood. Bending over the bed, you placed a soft kiss on Erryk’s damp forehead and squeezed his hand before making your exit. 

“Your affections lay with your dying knight?”

“I believe I could have loved him.” You spoke honestly. “Though it seems that fate does not care about ‘could-have’s’.”

“You are your mother’s daughter.” He noted with a shake of his head. Your brows furrowed. 

“Is that meant to be a slight?”

“You are more alike than you think.” He clarified. “She also gave her heart out too freely for those unworthy of it.”

“Before she gave it to you, you mean.” You said pointedly. 

“Even then. I do not worry much when it comes to you except for this,” Daemon said pointedly. “I hope you are learning that fickle matters where the heart is concerned will lead you to peril. They always will.”

“As I’ve said before, I see life differently since my capture. The softness I used to harbor has long left me. I feel only contempt and anger in my heart, but Erryk…” You shook your head. “It doesn’t matter now. That will soon be taken from me as well.”

Dameon let the conversation end there. He didn’t wish to torment you, but he did want you to see the detriment of leading with your heart instead of your head. 

“Where are your thoughts on your betrothed?” He changed the subject. 

“Do my thoughts matter if my heart is not mine to freely give?” You nearly snapped but kept your composure. “If I’m lucky, he too will die in battle.” You scoffed. “I know nothing of him except what Jace has so biasedly described him as. It seems my brother is quite taken with the Warden of the North.”

“Yes, your brother took a liking to Cregan Stark.” Daemon grumbled. 

“He seems to think this is a smart match, but as the bride I cannot say that I agree with him.”

“I do not blame you for your doubts. Your hand has become a hot commodity since you came of age and yet I did not entertain a single inquiry, nor have I pushed you to marry. That is a freedom that your mother was not granted. Always remember that.” Be grateful, were the words that were implied but not spoken. 

“Have you met Cregan Stark?” You asked, curious about your father’s opinion.

“Only in passing until recently. He was a boy of Luke’s age back then,” A sharp pain in your chest rippled with the mention of your slain brother. “But he was just as rigid when he was a boy as he is a man. You’ve also met him, though you wouldn’t remember.”

“Regardless, I hold no love for the man and I doubt I ever will.”

“Even still, I am loath to say that it was Cregan Stark who saw to your freedom.”

“And had Jace not pestered him, I would still be rotting in that dungeon. I am grateful for what he has done, make no mistake, but I am also not so dull as to not understand that men rarely do things -especially for women- out of the kindness of their hearts.” Daemon’s lips lifted in a barely visible smirk.

“So you do have your wits about you. I’ve taught you well.” The playful twinkle in his eyes made you want to kick him off his horse, but you grinned all the same. 

“Pardon if this is too forward, but I was worried, Miss. You did not return last night as usual.” The farmer greeted you with an apprehensive look thrown to Daemon. He could not see your father’s face, but he knew this man was different from the one you usually brought with you. 

Erryk did not hide his face. 

“Apologies, my good man. It was not my intention to cause you worry nor to waste your time.” The man bowed in dismissal of the apology. 

“Never, miss. What’ll you have tonight?”

“Two heifers, if you can spare them.” You handed the purse down to him and he quickly tucked it into his pocket. He did not stop to count it as he did the first few nights. You had been rather generous, so he felt it was fair to trust whatever you put in the purse. 

“Of course. It’ll be but a few minutes. I’ll bring ‘em ‘round the back.” You nodded and led your father to the gate nearest to the cattle pens. The big dog followed lazily alongside your horse, tail wagging now that he was used to seeing you. 

You could feel the questions your father wanted to ask. They were simmering and steaming as if he were a kettle about to screech. Still, he kept silent as the man brought your livestock to you. Handing one of the ropes to your father, you tied the other to your saddle and nodded to the farmer before taking off towards the Mont. 

“Where did I go wrong?” Alicent’s words stopped Aemond’s steps at the end of the council table. His hands instinctively grabbed onto one another behind his back in a defensive position. 

“Mother?” He questioned with a tilt of his head and a furrow of his brows. She was the sole occupant of the council chambers and that did not sit well with Aemond. Alicent stood from her chair and picked up a scroll from the table. 

“Was it not I who stood at your defense with every breath you took?” Her dark eyes were rimmed red, the flesh around them was puffed as if she had been crying for some length of time. Distraught, Aemond noted as she slowly stepped towards him with each question. “When your eye was cruelly stolen from you, was it not I who demanded retribution? Who would’ve taken that boy’s own with her very hands?” Alicent’s voice shook with anger. “With every cruelty thrown your way, was it not I who took the brunt of it?!”

“Of course you have, mother. No one would contest that.” A heavy, burdened frown sagged on Alicent’s face as she held her eyes to his, unyielding. Her fist tightened, crushing the parchment inside of it with a sharp crack that echoed through the empty room. 

“You take me for a fool, Aemond.” Alicent spat. “You’ve always had me, and I’ve always had you. Our bond is unbreakable and yet it now lies shattered between us.”

“I do not understand-”

“Understand this,” She hissed, pointing a finger accusingly. Never had her words held so much venom as they were directed at Aemond. His heart pounded fiercely and his palms started to sweat. “Your actions alone have wiped a generation of this family from existence, Aemond. I fear Helaena will never recover from this.” Alicent wielded her voice like the sharpest blade. Aemond remained silent as she turned to pace back to the fireplace.

“I have given everything to you, Aemond! I have sacrificed everything for you! For all of you!” She screamed as she painfully struck her index finger into her own chest in emphasis. “I have done my duty as a wife and as a mother -as a Queen- and what do I have to show for it?” Alicent turned to look at Aemond, tears of rage building in her eyes. 

“Lying,” She took hard steps forward with each word. “Ungrateful, and deceitful sons! I’d expect this from Aegon, but you? You, Aemond? You looked your mother in her eyes -the very same mother who has loved you unconditionally- and lied so maliciously! Why?! What has happened to you?!” She screamed desperately. Aegon, in all of his terror, had never garnered this type of behavior from their mother and it shook Aemond to his core. 

“A son for a son.” Alicent spat, throwing the scroll at Aemond.  “A daughter for a daughter.” She sneered. The parchment bounced off his chest and fell to the stone floor with a hollow thud, rolling against his boot. Aemond kneeled down to pick up the parchment and gently unrolled it. 

Using the light from the fireplace, his eye scanned the words that were hastily written, then rolled his eye back to meet his mother. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she held herself tightly in a trauma induced comfort. Aemond swallowed thickly as he set his sharp jaw, but remained silent all the same. His mother’s behavior was more than warranted. 

“Are Ser Arryk’s words false? Do his own eyes deceive him?!” Alicent’s eyes begged Aemond to state the contrary, that Ser Arryk had to be mistaken with who he saw. Aemond’s fist clenched the scroll within it, his knuckles turning white from the force. “Speak, my son! Or may the Seven damn you!” Alicent screeched. 

“He speaks the truth.” Aemond finally relented through his clenched jaw. Somehow, Alicent’s crumpled even further at his confession. 

“You told me she was dead!” Alicent pointed at Aemond accusingly. “She had perished over Stonedance and Bronzegate! Those were your words, Aemond! Why does she still breathe while Jaehaera is slain?! I will give you one opportunity to tell me the truth, Aemond. Either you have lied to me or she has miraculously survived the jaws of the world’s mightiest dragon.”

Aemond turned over whether to be completely honest or not, ultimately deciding that this was his chance to come clean. What’s done was done and he couldn’t continue to lie to his mother any longer -not when he had seen what his fallacies had done to her. 

Sweet Jaehaera paid the price for his deception, and in turn so had his dearest sister. He would hold that in his heart for the remainder of his days, however many they may be. 

Alicent sat back down in her chair at the small council’s table, a daze overwhelming her. 

“After Vhagar tore Lucerys from the sky, I tried to reason with her.” Aemond began, stress coating his every word. It felt as if a stone was placed in his throat, his words constricting his vocal cords. “I begged her to land her dragon and she would not listen. Vhagar made the choice for her and pulled Maestron to the ground of Massey’s Hook. Vhagar put the beast out of his misery and the princess tried to jump from the cliffs. I stopped her attempt.”

“You kidnapped her.” Alicent accused, her hoarse voice just above a whisper. “You have brought a wretched misery upon your family just as you’ve brought it upon theirs!”

“I…I subdued her and brought her here to keep her safe.”

“Safe!” Alicent exclaimed, madness once more taking over her. Stopping herself from working up even further, she took a deep breath before continuing. “And what we’re your plans for her, Aemond? To marry her just as you pleaded with me not a month before this series of events?” 

In retrospect, Aemond knew just how stupid all of this had been. 

“I’ve known you to be a great many things, but stupid is not one of them. This…this is stupid.” Your voice echoed in his mind. You hadn’t been wrong -you rarely were, but Aemond was blinded. He was cornered with no way out and he did what he had to do, as stupid as it was. 

Alicent took Aemond’s silence as confirmation. 

“Aemond…” Alicent did not want to ask, but she needed to know the answer. “Where was she kept?” 

“In the Southern dungeons.”

“The Southern dungeons?” A dark, decrepit pit with not a soul in sight but the rats that scurry afoot. A cruel fate, even if she held no love for you. “You kept her in complete desolation with the rats?! Who knew about this?”

“A girl of no importance…she was killed in her escape.” Alicent could read between the lines. Her head fell into her shaking hands and a gods-awful sob broke loose from her trembling lips. 

“She was here this whole time? While my grandchildren were brutally beheaded, she was alive and well just below our feet?!” A long moment passed before Aemond confirmed. 

“She was.”

“Have you taken up farming in your free time?” Daemon’s voice was mildly irritated as you trotted down the road with the two cows in tow.

“Ser Erryk asked the same the first night I brought him out here.” What seemed like a lifetime ago had been a mere couple of weeks. “But to answer your question, no. I don’t fancy myself a farmer. Once you see where we’re going, that question is going to sound sillier than it already does, Kepa.”

“Then begin your explanation. A war is on the horizon and I am shaperoning my daughter and two cows across Dragonstone at the hour of the owl, so forgive me if I am a little short tempered about this.” You did not need to look over at him to know his gaze was smoldering in your direction.

“I had a dream the first night I was home.” Daemon’s eyes immediately closed and he sighed from atop his horse. He pursed his thin lips, doing his best to not immediately berate you. “It was…surreal.”

“I will not entertain dreams, Tala.” He interrupted in a bored tone, his lips pulled into a minute sneer. “Dreams didn’t make us Kings-.” You pulled your horse to a swift stop, knowing it would only take a moment before he was mocking you as he mocked his brother for merely speaking of it. 

“-Dragons did.” You finished defensively. “It was a dragon I saw in my dream, Kepa.” You glared at him vindictively. 

“You’ve dragged your Knight around the entirety of Dragonstone in the middle of the night, and now you’re dragging me because you had a dream?” He looked more and more irritated the further the conversation progressed. He thought he would’ve been done with this nonsense once his brother had passed, but clearly he was mistaken. 

“I’ve had three.” Your own scowl started to blossom. “One night after the other consecutively.” Daemon rolled his eyes once more with a shake of his head and kicked his horse’s flank to turn around and head back to the Keep. You were quick to follow him, the cow making it difficult to catch up. 

“Enough. We are turning back.” 

“You cannot go back! Each dream was different, but they all held the same dragon, Kepa! You must listen to me!” You shouted, making him pull on the reins of his horse to come to a stop.

“You have suffered immensely and your mind is trying to cope,” He reasoned agressively. “-Which is why I will ignore these delusions. You will speak of them no further, am I understood?”

“Just because you are a nonbeliever does not make them delusions!” You pushed. “I have never thought clearer in my life! I beg you to listen! You asked me where I went with Ser Erryk, but I must tell you what led us there to begin with! Do not cast me out as mad before you have heard what I have to say!” The daughter who left for Storm’s Landing and the daughter who returned from the dungeons of the Red Keep were two very different people, Daemon was coming to terms with. 

“I need you to trust me, Kepa.”

Daemon’s brows were pinched together, the scowl permanent on his face, but he listened to your tales of dragons and fire nonetheless.  

“One dream would be excused as my imagination, as coping, but all three…I could not ignore them.” Daemon listened, intrigued but still taking everything you said with a grain of sand. “The night of the third dream I did leave the safety of the Keep.” You confessed. 

“With your knight?” Daemon couldn’t help himself. 

“No,” You stated firmly. “He was none the wiser. Probably assumed I was asleep in my bed just as everyone else did.” You shot him a look. “Every night after that third dream, I bought livestock from the farmer in the village and brought it up to the Mont as an offering. It was only on the tenth night that Ser Erryk finally caught me as I was leaving the stables.” You stated pointedly. 

Your horses stopped just as the path split up ahead. The rest of the journey would be on foot, just as it was night after night. The cow shifted to gnaw on tufts of grass, unbothered by the interruption. 

“Your dream dragon dwells in the Dragonmont?” Daemon asked as he tied his horse to a tree and untied the cow from his saddle. Once you had done the same, you continued on.

“He does.” You replied proudly. “He nests in a cave on the eastern side of the Mont -about an hour’s hike from here.” Your father’s look of irritation dropped into a deep frown. He was intimately aware of who resided within the Dragonmont.

“I have done the impossible, Kepa.” You whispered, stepping closer to him. “On that tenth night, and Ser Erryk was witness to it, I bathed in the Cannibal’s flames and I rode him into the night sky.” Daemon could only stare as you rambled, absolutely unhinged in his eyes. “This was a prophecy I had spoken of as a child, though I did not know it, and it came to fruition. Every night, barring last night, Ser Erryk and I made the journey to the Cannibal's nest with an offering. The dragon called to me and I answered. That is why I was up last night. Ser Erryk was supposed to meet me at the stables, but it was Ser Arryk who had crossed my path. By the time I realized he was an imposter…it was too late.”

Daemon took all of this information in and dwelled in his thoughts before he finally spoke. 

“The Cannibal is unpredictable.” He finally settled with. “Vermithor, Sheepstealer, even Grey Ghost have the potential to be ridden, but not the Cannibal. He is not like the others.” 

“I disagree.”

“Be that as it may, he cannot be bonded to a rider and to believe he could is foolish. He is not of the same lineage as the dragons from Old Valeryia. He holds no ties to us nor our dragons.” Daemon sighed, his fingers rubbed even further at the pain that was no doubt growing behind his eyes. “He cannot be trusted around the others and we cannot afford to lose any more than we already have.” 

“You say this as if he was not already bonded to me. Perhaps it is the hatred and darkness that dwells within me that has pulled me to him, that made me worthy of riding upon his back. My alliance with the Cannibal goes as far as the war. Once it has been won, and he still lives, he is free to go where he pleases. He has agreed upon it. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. Is it so difficult to believe what I’ve done?”

“Yes.” He replied without hesitation. His face pulled back into a scowl. “Dragons do not make deals. Have you lost your mind?” 

“Erryk didn’t believe it either until he saw it with his own eyes. The Cannibal may not have seen war, but he is lethal. He is feared. We’ve lost Maestron and Arrax, but we have gained a dragon they could never compete with. Sunfyre and Dreamfyre could not compare. Vhagar herself will fall -mark my words- and it will be my dragon who casts her from the sky.”

“You are to go North, as we’ve discussed. You will not ride into battle.” You stopped in your tracks, gobsmacked.

“I tell you that I have bonded with the Cannibal and you say I will not go into battle? Have you gone mad?” You did not wait for his response before continuing on. “This changes everything!”

“It changes nothing! The delusions end now!” He shouted, stopping you in your tracks. “You will go North. You will marry Cregan Stark, and you will stay put! Aegon and Viserys will join you as wards in the North as has been arranged with Cregan Stark. You will be safe should the worst happen. I will hear no argument from you.” 

“You will hear argument from me!” You shouted back. “I am not a mother, nor am I a nursemaid, Kepa.” You spat, taking a few steps towards him. “I will ride North to marry Cregan Stark. I owe him my life and it is a debt I shall repay, but it will be my hand that drains the life from Aemond and any other Hightower I can get my hands on. Cregan Stark will not stop me and neither will you. It is naive of you to simply think I would stay put because you command it. I have followed your word my entire life. I have been dutiful, but this” You shook your head “…I cannot. I will not be denied retribution from you or anyone. This is now my war just as much as it is yours.” 

That morning found you back at Erryk’s bedside and something in your heart told you that today would be it. There was no way he could continue on as he was, nor did you want him to continue to waste away. He still hadn’t opened his eyes, nor had he taken any more milk of the poppy since the morning before. His hand was cold as you held it in yours and your tears fell before you knew they were falling. Erryk’s chest rose and fell with short, hollow, raspy breaths that were spacing further and further apart. 

Everything, all of the rampant emotions and sleepless nights, seemed to catch up to you in that moment. Resting your head on the side of the bed, hand still in his, you allowed your eyes to close. 

The rolling green forested hills of Rosby sheltered you from the outside world, from duty and propriety. There was not a soul around, other than the two who resided at the top of an abandoned lookout tower of a Keep of the past that had been decimated, completely intertwined with one another. 

You were tucked into Aemond’s side, his arm holding you to him while your legs tangled with his as you both watched the sky above. 

“I’ve missed you,” Aemond spoke freely, his fingers toying with the tips of your hair. Playfully swatting his hand, you turned to gaze up at his striking features. The beautiful sapphire sparkled with the setting sun’s rays and it mesmerized you. Smiling softly at him, you brought a hand up to cup his jaw. Affectionately, he turned to kiss your palm, making a girlish giggle escape you. 

“And I’ve missed you quite terribly.” You relented. The outer corner of his expressive eye crinkled in delight as you doted on him. “I wish our meeting weren’t so fleeting.”

“When you are my wife, you will be sick of me, I promise you!” Aemond wrapped his arms around you to lock you on top of him. He rolled the both of you over and you let out a howling laugh as he trapped you beneath him. 

Aemond’s ever growing hair was pulled completely back in a rare sight with a few strands escaping the leather strap holding the rest back. Remarkable, stunning -all words seemed to pale in comparison to the man before you. 

“I could never be sick of you, dear Aemond.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you gently pulled him down to your lips. “I could never be sick of your kiss, of your touch.” Feeling rather cheeky, your nimble fingers tugged on the leather strap and his hair was let loose to encase you both in the long strands. “But you may get sick of me.” His fingers pinched your thigh in a teasing warning, then he stole another kiss when your defenses were down. 

“Never.” He promised between kisses. Earth shattering thunder echoed overhead, startling you. Aemond shifted to the side and you both looked up at the once clear skies as they darkened and swirled angrily. Fat drops of rain began to pour down as the skies opened, drenching you both in a matter of seconds. Lightning flashed across the sky, cracking to the ground seconds later.

“We need shelter!” You shouted over the storm, but Aemond did not get up, nor did he let you up. “Aemond!” You shouted once more to gain his attention. His head tilted back to look at you and when lightning flashed once more, it was as if he were two people. His eye had darkened, and he exuded danger. His grip on you tightened painfully.

“You will not leave me.” 

“Have you gone mad?! We need shelter!” He rose to his knees, pulling you up with him into a seated position and shook you. Horrified, you pushed against him -fighting with everything you had to get him to let go.

“Do you love me?” The manic look in his eye made your stomach drop further. “I need to know that you love me. It will have made all of this worth it. I need to hear you say it!” Finally wedging your foot between your body and his, you kicked him with everything you had. Aemond fell to the other side of the tower, but quickly righted himself as you scrambled to your feet. Running for the slick stairs, your boots slid down most of them, only catching yourself on the uneven stones of the wall on your way down so you did not fall to your death. 

“I will find you! Wherever you run, I will bring you back to me!” Aemond shouted in your native tongue behind you. “Was this not what you wanted? To love and be loved by me, my sweet?” He taunted as you shot through the entrance of the tower and back out into the torrential rain. Your boots slipped on the grass and the mud as you shouted for your dragon.

“Maestron!” Your voice broke as you shouted over the storm. “Maestron?!” You begged for your dragon to come, to sense your desperation as you continued to run. Lightning hit the ground to your right, sending you slipping down the hill ahead. 

“I will be all that you want and everything you shall need, my Princess.” Aemond cackled from behind as you righted yourself. “Why fight fate? You were mine from your first breath.” 

“Maestron!” You shouted as you spotted your dragon on the field below, the ground around you started to spin violently though you kept your feet planted firmly in the mud. Your stomach turned and just as you were going to be sick -the spinning stopped. 

Breathing heavily, you took a step forward just as two arms latched themselves around your waist and held you. Kicking and screaming, it felt like you were fighting against a boulder.

“Watch.” Aemond whispered in your ear, sending chills down your spine. Vhagar’s behemoth mass stepped out of the fog just past Maestron and you knew what was going to happen before it did-

You shot up in your chair with a violent gasp. Panic coursed through your veins as you stood, completely disoriented. Trying to catch your breath, you counted back from ten as you rubbed your face to wake yourself up as fully as you could. Pushing your head out of the window in the room, you sucked in as much sea air as you could to curb the attack that was going to settle in if you didn’t get a hold of it at that very moment. 

After a few minutes of collecting yourself at the window, you remembered where you were and looked over to Erryk. Dread spread through your body as you watched his chest. 

He was too still, too gray.

“Erryk,” You spoke aloud as you carefully stepped back to his bedside. Your hand was hesitant to touch his, but the second it did -you knew he was gone. 

“I thought I’d find you here.” Jace’s gentle voice broke the silence of the crypts. You stood before Maestron’s pristine skull, surrounded in an orange glow of burning candles. It was displayed in its own secluded space to pay tribute to his memory. Your palm lay flat against the hard curve of his snout, just as it did in life. Even before your very eyes, your skin to his bone, it did not feel real. “Mother wishes to see you.”

“Does she know you’ve found me?” 

“Well…no,” Jace blinked, then stepped forward to stand beside you.

“Then she can wait a few minutes more.” Your words did not garner an argument from him. “I needed time with him.” 

A brief moment passed before Jace spoke again.

“I’m sorry he met his end the way he did -your mount and your knight. ” You acknowledged Jace with a small nod, clearing your throat to respond without your voice wavering. 

“I’m just relieved there was something to recover of Maestron. Vhagar was considerate enough to leave something behind in her frenzy.” You muttered, mind flashing to his final moments on Massey’s Hook. “He was valiant and he fought until his final breath.”

“I would’ve expected nothing less from him.” You hummed in agreement. A moment of silence passed between you, and you could tell Jace was holding back from saying what was on his chest. 

“You can speak freely.” You offered, still keeping your eyes on Maestron. 

“I don’t wish to upset you,” Jace spoke softly. “It’s about Luke…” Your eye twitched. You brought a hand up to rest on Jace’s forearm to let him know he could speak. 

“Did he suffer? Was his death quick? For my own peace of mind, as selfish as it is, I must know. You are the only one who knows what truly happened and I beg for your honesty.” Tears lined Jace’s dark eyes as you looked into them. Your hand slid down to grasp his larger hands in yours to give him any comfort you could. 

“He was gone before I could comprehend what was happening. Had Maestron and I relied on my reflexes alone, we too would have perished right then as well. That’s how quickly everything transpired.” You squeezed his hands. “I have to believe Luke didn’t feel it. He did not see it coming for that matter. It was in the blink of an eye and he was gone.”

Jace breathed heavily through his nose and nodded. 

“Then it is what I shall have to believe as well.” You wiped the tears from his cheeks with the pads of your thumbs that had dared to fall and held his face in your palms. “Luke did not deserve this.”

“No, he didn’t. I will fight for him until my very last breath, Jace, this I promise you.” He nodded, ducking his head down in embarrassment for crying. If there was ever a place to mourn the dead, it was within the confines of the crypt. You would never think any less of him for mourning his brother, your brother. 

“I shall be escorting you to Winterfell soon.” Jace changed the subject, clearing his throat. 

“Yes,” you confirmed. “But you will not be my only chaperone.” 

“I overheard Damon speaking with mother…about a dragon. He says that you’ve bonded with the Cannibal.” He turned to you completely, his thick brows were furrowed. “Mother does not believe him.”

“Since when do you spy?”

“Since Daemon has become more secretive than he usually is. If they refuse to tell me what is happening, I will find out for myself. We are at war. I am no longer a child and I must be able to serve my Queen if we are to make it out of this.” 

“I do not say it often enough, but I am proud of you.” Jace bit his lip in shyness at the praise. “We shall be separated soon and you must stay clear-minded. You must survive. You are mother’s heir, Jace. Should the worst happen, it all falls to you.”

“We cannot begin to think about those things.”

“We must.” You stressed. “We must think of every possibility, Jace. Many, if not most of us, will perish in this. That is inevitable in war. We can only hope to take as many of them out with us should we fall. This is not easy to speak about, but it is our reality.”

Silence overtook the crypt as Jace turned your words over in his mind before nodding resolutely. 

“So is it true?” Once more the subject was changed by Jace. A foreign seriousness took over his features. 

“Is what true?”

“The Cannibal,” 

“Yes, it is true. He is to ride with me to the North so I may wed your newfound friend.” Jace seemed almost bashful at your comment.

“I think…I know Cregan will make you happy. I do not say that lightly, sister. There aren’t many good men in this Kingdom, but he is one of the few who is worthy of your hand.”

“So you keep reminding me.” You turned to look at Jace. His dark eyes glowed amber in the light of the flames, but they held earnestness. 

“I will continue to do so until you believe my words.” He held his arm out to you and you placed your hand at the crook of his elbow so he could lead you out of the crypts and into the Keep. “I plead with you to keep your mind open to him. Cregan is kind, and he will treat you as you should be treated. The Starks are a good family above all else, and Winterfell…is different, but different does not necessarily mean bad.” Jace rambled. “It will take some adjusting, but I think it will suit you…and your dragon. I’m sure he will be happy to be alone in a territory that only belongs to him.”

“We shall see.”

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added or removed): @thelittleswanao3 @bellameshipper @praline357 @crazymusicgirl104 @visenyaverse @nina2697 @malfoytargaryen @ana8swift @ladymoon666 @sunmoon-01  @snh96 @louiselouve @neenieweenie @kemillyfreitas

#aemond targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fic #aemond targaryen #x reader #ewan mitchell imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd #aemond x reader #spoils of war fic

[queenendless]

❤️‍🩹Lost in a Moment (AU!Adult!Gojo Satoru x Adult!Geto Suguru)❤️‍🩹

A/N: Listening to Lost In A Moment from Stray Gods the Role Playing Musical helped put me in an emotionally wrecked state.

Yet watching yesterday's new episode ... that topped it. 😢🤧

CW: DEFINITE ANIME SPOILERS; UP TO S2 E9 NOW! AND YEAH IMPLIED MANGA SPOILERS BUT NOT IN MUCH DETAIL! Angst, hurt/comfort, reincarnation into modern age AU with retained memories of canon lives, cliche corny cheesy sappy lovey dovey feels, and yes Imma make more for this AU with the rest of my JJK babies ... and put in some x Reader soon. When the next episode drops... cause God that's gonna be a ride. OF FEELS! 😭

Credit for JJK goes to Gege ... despite all the madness they've put our babies through!

* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.

More JJK content coming as daily as this season runs. I hope you enjoy.

So much blood shed.

So many lives lost.

Panic and disgust at all that carnage yet enjoyment enacting violence against those special grades.

Roughly a thousand transfigured heads rippled through the blood-soaked station, trapped in his Infinite Void, within two tenths of a second.

Then came the Prison Realm.

The cube swishing open to take its true form.

Its wrinkly red skin stretched out into an X, wires stretching out its shrunken warm colored eye dripping with blood.

His instincts screamed to turn tail and get away.

"Yo Satoru."

That waving, closed eye smile sent unsettling, too trusting tremors through him.

"Huh?"

"Long time no see."

A fake?

A transformation technique?

No … the Six Eyes burned it onto his brain.

It all came flowing into him.

Three years' worth of his youth.

Smiling at that face.

Eyes full of hope.

Taking a minute to unfold in his head.

Enough time for the Prison Realm to merge with him, jutting out of him, keeping him hanging and pinned.

"You shouldn't lose yourself in thought, in the midst of battle, Satoru."

I can't sense any cursed energy. I can't get my body to move, either. This is checkmate, huh?

"So, who the hell are you?"

"I'm Suguru Geto. Don't you remember me? How sad."

"Your body, your cursed energy … all the information provided by these eyes is telling me you're Suguru Geto. But … my soul is rejecting all that! Now answer me already! Who the hell are you!?"

"Creepy." Pulling on that near invisible thread. Lifting the top half of his head off. Revealing the mouthed alien brain; juices dripping down his face, his wide ass toothy smile pissing him off. "How could you tell?"

"That's my technique you see. I can pass from one body to another by replacing its brain with myself. Of course, I'm also able to use that technique etched into the body I inhabit. I really wanted this man's Curse Manipulation and this situation, too. You didn't have Shoko Ieiri handle the disposal of Suguru Geto's body that day, did you?"

He couldn't … he just couldn't bear it.

Watching his one and only best friend being buried … or even cremated … after all those years spent apart on opposite sides … his selfish grieving heart had to keep him.

Plopping that head cap back on, squelched noises were made, it all churned Gojo's guts.

"That was an odd time for you to show consideration. But thanks to that, I was able to obtain this body with ease."

Pulling the thread to hold its creped hold back in place.

"You needn't worry. I'll release your seal eventually. A hundred… no … maybe a thousand years from now? You're just too strong. And you're in the way of my plans."

"Hah! Have you forgotten? Who was it that beat the crap out of that body before I killed him?" His stubborn pride and confidence in his distant relative turned aspiring pupil knew no bounds.

"Yuta Okkotsu, huh? I just don't see as much appeal in that boy as you do. Copying techniques without any conditions, and a bottomless well of cursed energy … both of those were just effects obtained from binding the soul of his most beloved with a pact. Sorry to say this, but Yuta Okkotsu can never replace you."

False Geto …

No ….

Kenjaku.

Damn him.

"Goodnight, Satoru Gojo. We'll meet again in the new world."

His pleading hopes that his one great weakness – his greatest strength – would respond to his desperate cries to come back and end the madness were all dashed.

Betting all his hopes that Suguru was still in there somewhere, trying to break free like himself, and that someway, somehow, something blessed would arrive amiss all this cursed madness.

Yet, even as the instincts of keeping him safe ingrained in the overtaken body of his best friend surfaced just to choke his hijacked being, it was a lost cause.

Lost in the moments of the times he missed most of all.

Lost in the song of their laughter, their fights, their banter, when they could be kids and nothing else.

Being each other's strength.

Making up for what the other lacked.

Each other's missing piece.

And to have that cursed Kenjaku make him relive the hell of a life failing Suguru. Tainting his entire being. Not even in death could the suffering end for his lost and lonely other half; matching Gojo's inner suffering for over a decade long in a world without Geto.

The strongest one, the honored one, defeated by the greatest curse that is love.

Failing his moral compass, his one and only friend, who needed someone in his time of need when he fell apart over his struggling morals after witnessing the cruel truth of their world. Expected to protect those that don't deserve it. Losing those that are too pure for that horrific reality.

Unable to protect his students, allies, and friends from the onslaught of hell that came for them that bloody Halloween night.

Unable to resist the moment that monster greeted him in Suguru's voice.

Unable to save the one he loved most of all.

Three years spent trapped.

Trapped in isolating hell.

Swallowed whole in suffocating, soul crushing darkness.

The muffled voice of someone pulled him out of the murky pulls of deep slumber. The jostling shake in his being, the solid digging of fingers in his shoulders, the overwhelming heat shoving back the freezing sunken teeth of the nightmare.

The muffled sound became clear out in the open as the most familiar voice of all was yelling out his name desperately.

"Satoru!? Wake up! Come on, please!"

Rescuing him from that insufferable reality.

Awakening him in a new one.

Blinking his eyes up several times, heaving and catching his breath as he broke out into a sweat.

Non vibrant eyes darting all over as he took in everything. Late at night. The AC humming in the background. Streams of moonlight creeping in through the skinny gap of the curtains. Trickling along the hunched form of Geto over him in their shared bed, wearing a long-sleeved charcoal sleeping shirt, an all-knowing concern written all over his face.

"What was it this time?"

No stitched-up forehead.

No more lies.

Looking into those enriching, trusting eyes.

Gojo shakily breathed out, draping an arm over his eyes. "Me being sealed away."

It is him.

Really, truly, his Suguru.

Breathing.

Safe.

Free.

Gojo felt his walls collapsing.

His vulnerability surfacing.

"The price a do over gives us." Geto murmured somberly.

"Yeah." His throat constricted, his eyes watered up, gritting wrecked grunts left him as his hand enclosed in a shaking veiny fist. Trying to keep it all in, not wanting Suguru to see him falling apart over a bad dream. But the contents of said dream made him want to behold to hold Suguru and never let him go again.

Alarmed by panic, Geto leaned down immediately to lay right atop him, embracing his emotional love with his own tightening grip, shushing him insistently as his hand brushed through those lovely white locks. "It's okay. I'm here. We're both here."

Recollections of their past lives flaring up in dreams is but one of the few downsides to reincarnation in this new modern age. But shouldering that burden with another makes it less of a struggle.

"This better not be a dream." Gojo lifted his arm, revealing the pain flashing in those emotionally teary blue eyes which tore at Geto's heartstrings. "Or I swear to God," Gojo sobbingly hiccupped as he clawed at Geto's clothed back, distraught battling relief within himself as his face nuzzled into Geto's strong neck.

"It's real. All of it. And this." Geto's tender, warm firm lips pressing to his cheek felt too good to be true. "I'm real, Satoru. As are you."

Breathing in Suguru's scent to calm his irrational state of mind, easing down just hearing his name spoken in that cozy voice from the genuine article. "This is real." Whispering that mantra over and over slowly kept Gojo grounded in the here and now as it did with Geto.

Gojo's next words struck a chord within them both. "I … I'm sorry Suguru."

"What?" Geto pulled back enough to look into those normal yet breathtaking blue eyes.

"For everything. For ignoring your pain all those years. For not letting you go when I … I killed you. If it weren't for me, that bastard wouldn't have taken it over and everyone … everything … wouldn't have turned out so wrong. I ... I was never the same without you." Gojo's voice cracked, braving himself to look him right in the eye even in this harried sorry state, when a gentle peck to his lips halted his words.

Geto's almond eyes narrowed as they became murky with lament. "Don't blame yourself. I'm … sorry too. For leaving you. For not divulging all my troubles to you. I just … the weight of the world was already on your shoulders. I believed I alone could find a solution to my problems … and that of our world … even if it meant becoming the worst curse user of our age. Yet after all that time …" His smile had Gojo at a loss of breath as Geto's other hand cradled his tear-stained cheek, rubbing calming circles with his thumb. "You still trusted me to the very end. After all the damage I had caused. After I hurt you … envying your power over seeing you for the person I always knew you to be deep down inside." Geto shut his eyes, letting his own tears trail down freely, sparking from the sliver of moon beams hitting them, mesmerizing Gojo.

To him, Geto Suguru never looked more radiant.

Gojo dug his fingers in Geto's back to pull himself up enough for their faces to be a mere inch or so apart, wiping away his tears in kind. "We've both suffered. All of us did. Doomed in that world from the start. Trying to change it all our own way. Prepared to lay our lives down for that dream. And yet, here we are."

Geto chuckled in wry amusement, resting his forehead against Gojo's. "The irony of it all."

Both ready to welcome death when their times came. On the same day. Their anniversary. Only to reawaken in a whole new world, one with no cursed energy at all. No cursed spirits, no sorcerers, nothing. With everyone else coming along for the ride. And all the memories attained from their past lives. Whatever higher power intervened to bring it all to fruition, neither knew at the time whether to be thankful or resentful.

And yet … finding their grown-up selves seeing each other again in the flesh … instinctually running to each other, collapsing in each other's arms, heart ruled over reason ever since.

Such as now.

Sitting up on their legs and calves, their embrace was as cathartic as the first one shared in the pure light of a new venture. Looking into each other's eyes, the sparks of hope reigniting.

"I forgive you, Satoru." Geto gently rubbed his nose against Gojo's.

"I forgive you too, Suguru … my one and only." Gojo's endearing grin had Geto laughing softly.

"Same old Satoru."

"Of course. It's still me, after all." That cheeky smirk says it all.

"How I have missed that sight …" Geto's gaze gleamed with amour that made Gojo's heart soar. "We have a second chance. We all do."

"Let's not waste it, then." Gojo's sculpted strong hand weaved through those silky raven locks, cradling the back of Geto's head. "I'm willing to fight for this life if you are. Nightmares, memories, and all." The conviction rose to meet his newfound dream.

"I'm not going anywhere. If I must live again, I'd rather live a long life worth living … as long as it's with you." Geto's own firm resolve gave him the urge to just come out and say it.

"We are the strongest duo, after all~!"

Geto's free hand playfully wacked Gojo's white long-sleeved shoulder, chortling, "Idiot."

"You love it, though." That drawn out kiss lingered between them as their half-lidded eyes stayed connected. "Admit it."

"I do." Geto's warm breath made Gojo want to kiss him again, longer, deeper, relishing his taste.

Drowning in the overwhelming pleasure as he pulled Geto even closer by the head, wrapping an arm around his body, meshing perfectly together.

As their tongues battled for dominance, Geto pushed Gojo to lay fully down in their big welcoming bed, laying down atop him once more, parting their panting mouths, connected by a line of their saliva, burning puffs hitting each other's mouths. "I love you, Gojo Satoru. All of you."

His soul told it to be true.

"And I love you Geto Suguru … I always have. In our old life… in this one …. if it's with you, that's the only place I want to be."

"So sappy. Even for you." Geto teased.

"Hey, you're stuck with me for life. Deal with it." Gojo stuck his tongue out, feigning annoyance.

"Like I have any other choice," Geto sighed, resigning to his fate, but his smitten grin displayed how fine he is to it all. The loud yawn released from his taller lover had him cup his cheeks to give a goodnight smooch, moving to lay on his side, cozying up to Gojo. "Good dreams should await you now."

"Having you here with me is a dream come true~" Gojo purred, intertwining their legs together as he wrapped his arms around Geto's shoulders.

Geto rolled his eyes, exasperated. "God the corniness."

Gojo laughed mirthfully before kissing Geto repeatedly, speaking in between the breaks. "I mean it. I do."

Wrapping his own arms around him, Geto could relax completely knowing his dear Satoru was so happy. Thanks to him. Because of him. Return those kisses in kind, humming at how good it felt. "Well, I do too."

Embracing each other under the sheets, lulled by each other's warmth, their even breathing and synchronized heartbeats became the telltale signs that they both fell fast asleep.

The catharsis was profound.

For that night would be followed by many others.

Where dreams come to fruition.

When living peacefully was possible.

Waking up to the early morning sunrise and seeing themselves in each other's arms brought sleepy smiles to their faces, kissing soundly before snuggling even closer to each other, falling straight back to dreamland.

Lost in a moment.

Lost in a song.

Their moment.

Their song.

Of a new beginning.

Together.

#jjk #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #jjk gojo #jjk au #jjk fanfic #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu gojo #jujutu kaisen au #satosugu #gojo satoru x geto suguru #modern au #reincarnation #jjk angst #jjk anime spoilers #jjk manga spoilers #satoru gojo x suguru geto #hurt/comfort #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jujutsu kaisen season 2 #jjk shibuya arc #gojo and geto #satosugu au

[notable-phlyarologist]

ok ok ok Baldur's Gate 3 has made me aware of a certain piece of Faerûn lore which i have been unable to shake so I am screaming it into the tumblr void in the hopes it forever leaves me

In Baldur's Gate 3, explicitly, repeatedly, to the point where it is in fact a plot point, it is stated that illithids do not have souls. A fact which makes me go fucking feral. here we fuuuuckin go

Spoilers for Baldur's Gate 3 under the cut, and also maybe for Curse of Strahd.

Ok so first off souls exist in Faerûn, provably. They can be trapped, used as fuel, shoved back into mortal shells to bring them back to life, all of it. It is impossible, in fact, to bring someone back to life without having access to their soul, meaning that souls umambiguously comprise a fundamental aspect of the self. Additionally, gods specifically derive their power from individuals with souls.

This creates a strict delineation between those with souls and those without. Souls are that which gives the mortal dynamism and identity, and given the way illithids are exclusively referred to with it/its pronouns even when they take on individual identities, it is thus implied that individuals without souls *cannot truly* lay claim to an identity. This is then extended to create the necessary justification for typical adventuring party justified carnage-- illithids do not have souls and are not people, and you do not need to feel sympathy for the ones you kill.

Beings without souls are simply ontologically evil.

And okay, I get that this is Faerûn we're talking about, where the whole setting is awash with sapients who are 'Always Chaotic Evil' and whom can be killed on sight with no greater thought put into it. I get that if you open up a Monster Manual it will happily tell you about all kinds of beings incapable of positive emotion whom you may simply mow down en masse and which reads like a big ream of genocidal propaganda. I get that. I understand. The whole setting was fundamentally founded with some very fucked up ideas and no amount of after-the-fact polish can fully escape them.

But even by Faerûn standards this drives me bonkers. Like, okay. Illithids don't have souls, and can be killed with impunity. But they are also continually under the control of a giant psionic hivemind and are allowed no individuality. We meet two illithids, one very important to the plot, who are in fact free of the brain's control and who are perfectly capable of existing in polite society, given that polite society unpersons criminals which provides an easy source of brains for them to eat.

So illithids don't seem, once freed from an evil alien supercomputer's control, to be any more ontologically evil than, like, a picky carnivore. Hell, they can eat, like, demon and devil brains and be totally chill. And demons and devils are even more ontologically evil. So already we're seeing friction between what we are told and what happens most often (illithids as evil body snatchers who need to die) and what we see (illithids are weird creatures who need to eat brains and who can simply decide to not be evil same as anyone else).

But now it's time for my second question. What happens to a mortal soul when they are transformed into an illithid? Illithids exclusively reproduce by transforming souled creatures, and they thus become unsouled. So what happens to the soul? Does this count as death of the self, thus letting the soul move on into the messy and complicated D&D afterlife? Does the soul just vanish, obliterated? Can you bring someone back to life if they were turned into an illithid and that illithid is still alive? Does the illithid not have the soul, but traps the soul somehow, meaning that they aren't actually using it but the soul can only be released when the illithid is dead? What the fuck does Faerûnian philosophy even look like because I'm going insane and we're not even to the part that drives me the most crazy yet.

Because, spoilers, you can become an Illithid! Or more specifically, any one of the player characters, be they Origin or Original, can. When they do, shielded from the influence of the Evil Lobe, they still possess all their normal personality traits and are basically the same except that now they think brains are yummy, that being an illithid is super cool, can blow stuff up with their brain, and use it/its pronouns. #transitiongoals

But they still do not have souls! They still possess the fundamental identity that they had as a souled person, yet now they are continuing to have it without the soul that makes it possible to have an identity! What the hell is going on? They have all the memories, the mannerisms, the internal perception of self that they did before they became an illithid. Somehow, the illithid version of them is fundamentally false! Despite being functionally indistinguishable from who they were beforehand! If it walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then where did its soul go?

And that's not even touching whatever the fuck being a half-illithid does to your soul.

Which is where Curse of Strahd enters the field, because my outside experience of Ravenloft further complicates this. See, Ravenloft is a plane of existence magically sequestered from the rest of reality, and souls cannot pass through the barrier between Ravenloft and the rest of the D&D multiverse. No souls out, and no souls in (except for the ones brought in by the stereotype brigade). This means that the whole plane is just recycling the same set of souls, forever, resulting in a perpetual cycle of reincarnation. But the actual population of Ravenloft can grow and shrink, even if the number of souls doesn't change. Meaning, sometimes in Ravenloft, a baby is born *without a soul*.

These soulless people have some common traits. They are quiet, uncreative, boring. They don't seem to have desires or hopes or dreams. They just kind of Exist until eventually they stop doing that. In short, they are the purest form of a video game NPC imaginable.

This implies a whole suite of entirely different things about the presence or absence of souls in Faerûn which makes me froth at the mouth. What the fuck do souls even *mean* in this setting? They definitely exist, and they definitely do Something, but the nature of that something varies wildly. And don't even get me started on at what point souls stop happening with regard to animals, because from what a cursory search tells me 'plants and vermin are typically not sentient enough to have souls' which basically just makes smoke that smells like burning plastic begin leaking from my ears.

I have no answers and I must scream.

#faerun #baldurs gate 3 #soul #illithid #ramblings

[haruchiyos]

medieval fantasy w kamisato ayato the only man ever !! congrats 2 your milestone, beloved !! here’s a kiss and toasting for many many more to come !!

A Love Forged in Peace but Destroyed in War

Ayato x gn!reader

Content warnings in tags — contains spoilers

Despite years of battle, Kamisato Ayato never could quite get used to the sensation of blood on his skin. When fresh, it was slick like oil and warm. The liquid burnt him: not by way of heat, but rather its vitality. Liquid life. It sank deep within his pores, poisoning him with the heavy reminder of what it means to take a life. 

Emotion was considered unbecoming of an Elf, especially those of the high court. “Don’t do this.” The plea was desperate. “Take counsel with your uncle; urge him towards peace; we can negotiate beneficial terms for both sides. This war is purposeless.”

In the midst of the calamity of war— its death, its cruelty, its carnage — he still found your gaze to be one of the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, no matter how hollow. “It’s futile. All of his advisors spoke against the decree; not a single soul within our lands condones his thirst for power. Yet, he cannot be reasoned with and we cannot disobey.” Your voice rang though the madness: through the mantra of clashing steel and choked screams.

For once in his life, the King didn’t know what to do. “Pleas—“ Your blade came down hard against his cross guard, but he was quick to counter. Lunging, Ayato drove forward in an offensive, and an ill places body sent you tumbling to the blood soaked muck in a failed attempt to evade. The point of his blade froze at the base of your throat. “Surrender and I will offer you sanctuary from his madness.” He states in desperation rather than mercy.

For a split second you consider his offer, but the shout of one of your soldiers brings you back before you could sink too far into false hope. “General!” The chaos halted, but was immediately followed by the sound of bows being drawn.

“Stand down!” The words escape you without thought. Despite the danger to his life, Ayato never once broke your gaze. Heartbeat roaring in your ear, you swallow. “My loyalty lies with my people; I could never abandon them — not even for you.”

Pain flashes in his cyan orbs and you find yourself resenting the look. Not because his attachment offended you, but rather seeing his anguish made breathing nearly impossible.

“I would protect you. Do all within my power to help you liberate your people — I give you my word.” The tears welling in his eyes cut deeper than any blade ever could. If decades of knowing him had only taught you one thing, it would be that Kamisato Ayato never let emotion cloud his judgement. Endless hours spent talking child to child, teen to teen, young adult to young adult, letting the weight of royal titles and responsibilities slip away in exchange for the opportunity to truly see the other. And in that time, the spark of love found kindling and grew and grew and grew into a raging inferno so large it threatened to consume the both of you. But peace eventually gave way to war, and it’s cruelty reduced the flames of your love to mer embers.

Kamisato Ayato may never have been able to grow accustom to the feeling of another person’s blood on his skin, but he found that the sensation of his own to be tolerable. He much preferred it over your own blood. And so, as the liquid began to seep from the juncture of your blade and his abdomen, nestled skillfully between the seams of his armor — he was relieved that he’d never have to feel it.

A scream slices through the air, but it isn’t his. Anguish drives it’s own dagger deep into your heart in return and you welcome it with open arms. “I’m sorry.” You sob, driving the sword further into his body.

“I love you.” He chokes, and you curse him for the forgiveness in his gaze even as his life drips down the hilt of your blade onto the battlefield. “I’ll always love you.”

Darkness clouds his gaze as Ayato takes you in one last time. And he prays that in the next life you share, he will be able to hold you like he always wanted to.

“I know.”

#tw death #tw mcd #tw war #tw blood #tw violence #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #🖤.milestone event #🖤.az writes

[samsaurwrites]

The World is Cruel (Past!Eren Yeager x Reader SFW Drabble)

Eren's world is cruel, and so is yours.

Tags: Potential Attack on Titan Spoilers, I Don’t Know How the Manga Ends, Please Don’t Spoil it For Me, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Embodiment of ‘Feels Bad,’ Past Trauma, Past Eren Yeager/Reader

A/N: I was listening to ‘Akuma no Ko’ and feeling sad about Eren, so now you can be sad too.

Read here or on AO3.

The world is cruel. You know this. You learn this the moment you see your mother crushed by rubble, the moment you see your sister eaten—ripped apart right in front of you.

You learn the cruelty of humans when you are beaten and bullied for your food. When you are cursed and spat on. When they shout at you to go home even though they know you don’t have one. Not anymore.

Two years later, you join the cadet core, and you struggle and strive and bleed just to keep up with the others. You start to wish you had fought harder for your food.

You also meet him. Eren Yeager, the boy who fights and fights and fights. Whose eyes burn with anger and determination and life.

“I’ll put an end to it,” he says, to you, to anyone who will listen, and at first, he means the titans. He means to end the death and the suffering, the fear that he’s suffered through—that you all have suffered through, cowering inside the walls.

And then, he starts to mean so much more.

He leaves you, and you don’t know why. He comes back different, cruel and cold, and you don’t know why. He won’t tell you; he’ll hardly even look at you, and when he does, you realize you don’t recognize him anymore.

You bear witness to the beginning of the end.

You watch as lightning strikes the ground, brace yourself as shockwaves ripple across the city, feel the walls fracture and crumble and fall.

He promises to protect you, swears he won’t stop until every last life beyond Paradis is wiped out.

You fall to your knees, clamp your hands over your ears, and cry.

~

The world is cruel. You know this.

The bodies devoured by mindless beasts—just like your sister—the bodies crushed and forgotten under the rubble—just like your mother—tell you that. The lives you’ve taken, chasing after him. The blood that stains your hands, that soaks into your clothes, your bones, promises you that.

You watch as the battle rages. As the 104th tears itself apart.

You limp forward, begging them all to stop. Grounded by the broken ankle you drag behind you, the dislocated shoulder you cradle with one hand. Your swords drag behind you, useless, useless, useless.

You know now what he’s done is wrong. That it is vile and abhorrent and cruel.

But you also know why he did it—and all you want is for him to come back with you.

You find him in the wreckage, in the midst of the carnage and blood.

“Do you still love me?” he asks you, weakly.

You clutch him to your chest, arms wrapped around his torso. Cling to him and weep a broken ‘yes’ that rips your heart, your being, in two.

You hold him while he dies. Scream and sob until your throat is raw, until your voice cracks and shatters, until the others find you and cry too.

The world is cruel. And you hate it for taking him from you.

~

You never forget him. The boy you loved, the one you lost.

For the rest of your life, you see him in the wildflowers that blanket Paradis, in the petals and the blooms that dance on the wind. You see him in the sunsets, in the clouds stained sapphire and amethyst and gold. You see him in the midnight skies, in the stars that sparkle and gleam.

You see him in the walls he broke.

The world is cruel, but you love him still.

You always will.

Thanks for reading! Check out my other writing here.

#eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #eren yeager #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #aot #snk #sad boi hours #fanfiction #writing #my writing #writeblr #drabble #cross posted on ao3

[art-i-know-yes]

SPOILERS FOR LIMITED LIFE

also someone drop a compilation of skizz's affirmations

Jimmy's Ep

I didn't watch everyone from last week anyway

5 MINUTES IN

THIS IS MAKING ME NAUSEOUS

me sobbing every five minutes of fear even though i know it's his last

I'm shaking

bdubs is a savior

plz get off the bread bridge it's a single file line

grian's popping off

anytime someone's near the edge I get nauseous

the podcast gets their kills

joel got 2 people

54 minutes

I'm not joking I'm physically sick

...jim...babe...wtf

can't WAIT to see this from Grian's pov

Canary curse continues

dumbest person alive/lh

i hate him/j

awww it's the fact that it ISN'T on purpose not even a bit

AWWW

i love him so

was rooting for him rip

Tango's Ep

"is it a pet"

oh so that was just...there

at the end of this every base is just hung to be flooded

"i think I'm gonna hand back"

seal team ties *falls*

it's panic from everyone

"im...a... perfectly honest person" *side eye*

impulse turns red and was like "im filled with guilt"

scott got the good shots

back to yellow scott

omg my heart. Tango why would you cut like that

Grian solo

bread bridge is carnage

"Yeah my guy I needed that time"

impulse is eagle eyes for those minecarts

bdubs is luck incarnate

sky net is the exact same problem as bread bridge and my mental health CAN'T

2nd kill from bad boys

Grian was farming kills from bread bridge 2.0

there wasn't even a death message

THE LOAF

the silence after

JOEL

it's the silence from all of ties as the do this

scott is GETTING those kills

is skizz out out?!

oh good he's ok just playing his

SKIZZ

tears...beautiful...thunder

down to tie

they're surrounded

bad boys aren't playing

aw joel at the VERY end

a WHAT 30...omg

TIME FOR MARTYN

scott just can't wait

the boom effect

babe said i'll give you time to change that

but they're anyways jumping

fake beds

everyone's so jumpy

"you feel like a dad for figure, I'll take it" "No we already did the soulmate thing"

an exhausted "No! You're not getting a new dead"

then making fun of ties

ohhh so scar was given that kill

oooooo sneaky

"how about Martyn" *GULP*

"because I'm bored"

'safe'

"and a tnt minecart" "oooh"

"me?! im not telling you that"

is that his joel died

Martyn being salty about the glass pane is so funny

ohh that was Jimmy's frantic grab

oh he felt bad

was that the 2nd one

it was

martyn's sneaky this episode

jumpscare

break time to mourn

to be a fly in that discord to HEAR jimmy explain himself

ominous

*sigh* watcher's will be done

did i miss lore last episode

"game on" *death* "game off"

sky net was WILD

like the ground is like nearly unscathed

ok so that's what happened

"bye martyn!"

the mansion was always a massive death zone

i was right! on Joel's death being by the glass

i was so curious about what that was

"im saying it's-spacious"

"don't blame me! i shouted move!"

the carnage is wild

oh he only killed himself

'i could really use that affirmation right now'

why do you want grian?

poor joel

"oh. dear."

'tatters'

oooo joel

SCOTT GOT JOEL OUT

ohh he gained that hour only to lose it

at the beginning of this, even just 2 sessions ago, it was really looking like skizz and scar being the first 2

but we lost 3 and got lore

^^^these three were done the night of^^^

Grian's video is too long for my unfocused self rn and i need to consume different media before i can watch Scott's despite it being short so it's got to be later for them.

Grian's Ep

Scott's Ep

im in mourning already. time to watch the final bad boy.

"what the arrows doing"

THEY FOUND THE BASE

ok well that explains a few things

grian could not let this go

rip the podcast

"maybe" bc it was such a foolproof plan

oh i didn't even notice that he called him jimmy

grian was off doing a solo podcast and just popped off

i love his happy/evil screams

lost about 2-3 hours to the podcast alone but like yeah

it's like every season grian gets one kill that gets him REALLY excited (i almost remember nothing about last life)

bdubs was a real one for that

don't you worry grian

Jimmy's the sadistic one?

oh grian is quick with it

bread bridge mvp

nauseous grian nauseous

"the family"

grian's squealies

idk if i can watch this again *sobs* /lh

it's bc i know that it's cause he stopped crouching that he WALKED OFF

painful every time rip bad boy

grian's cackling is so much fun

AH they put their mourning back on

i love this funeral awww

JOEL

god my favorite part of this server is just when they LOOK UP and you can see all the bridges

back to bigb he's fun

THE DOGS

"AH THE BREAD"

"can you be a nosy neighbor" "You don't wanna be a bad boy?"

"mine are dying or dead"

they are all bad at making allies

time to point and laugh at martyn

good 'ol amnesia cold

he's accepted that Joel is also dying this ep

jimmy dies first, Joel becomes a psychopath--things happen

"if i don't say bye im gonna regret it"

Joel is just like grian you can get this kill

grian-lightheaded lightheaded l- myheart

joel is PLAYING

don't play on the bridge scar

"breathe breathe"

so THAT'S what caused it

omg grian was racking up more than i thought-- that's another hour

it is nice that they were thinking about giving hours for each other

gotta give that update to Joel

"oh scar--force of habit-- joel"

bread bridge 2 is literally the most op

"*gasp* he's got 11 minutes left"

like the moment you left him alone

scar has gotten better at mlp buckets

"im gonna kill pufferfish" "can keep it alive for fun!"

scar bargaining

SCOTT KILLED JOEL 3 TIMES

"im not gonna kill you again you need to survive!"

joel becomes more and more hysterical with every death

"grian it's not going well-" His final words

he wasn't going to do it anyway

he always has. good words good words

bad boy forever at heart

that was a TRUE allyship bad boys till the END

rip bad boys joining the nosey neighbors

(im a bad boy at heart)

he was everywhere this session

scott was a monster this ep

oh so that's where he went

he didn't want that boogie death

scott is so observant

the fact that Scott managed to make so many allies while everyone else is enemies

awwww skizz

therapy but like fun

'stunning, beautiful, jaw-dropping, outstanding'

"i said i was gonna fight but-"

"i wasn't- meaning to!"

it's like the only times Scott has died is because he let them (except for Grian's kills)

impulse's shaky "you are the nicest guy ever"

I think I wanna try to keep count of Scott's kills- i'll be inaccurate though

there's so much happening

they did chase him down

omg god it was everyone

scott is shmovin

just turn it into a challenge arena

"why'd your voice go high Joel" "cause I'm scared scott" that is so funny to me

oh I didn't even notice that Joel killed scar. somehow.

SCOTT KILLED JOEL 4. TIMES. INCLUDING THE FINAL KILL.

9 kills total this ep (i think) 4 of which were joel

that was. a lot.

rip bad boys. so while if Grian wins, it will be a bad boy win- i do not care.

but ah now. i kinda hope the mean gills win. i wonder how lore will happen if Martyn wins. considering last season Scott gave the win to pearl (even if they both technically won bc soulmates)

i also hope ties win.

this, surprisingly, has been like the most loyal season.

tbh i don't care as long as someone i watch wins bc that's a team win. but also very excited to see who wins, even if it isn't someone i watch.

time to watch empires now. so many villain arcs

#you could and should absolutely ignore this #mcyt #life series #limited life #limited life spoilers #life series spoilers #limited life grian #limited life martyn #limited life jimmy #limited life scott #limited life tango

[manysmallbugs]

so obsessed with Scream's brand of "justice" btw. I love that she simply does not give a fuck when it comes to proving a point and just wants to help the person in need. like

this?? whole part???? Scream simply ignores the punisher trying to "make things right" and calls him out on the fact he just wants to bring about death since she wants the girl safe and can't bother to deal with him. throughout this entire part she just looks for the girl,

finds the girl,

and gets said girl to a safe place.

her grip on this child???? that's her entire agenda. the only thing she cares for is bringing the girl back safe. no motive of justice or whatever, she simply wants this one girl to be safe. it makes for such an interesting character trait, I guess I've just.... never seen it done like this before?? a genuine attempt at saving someone that is not over shadowed with justice and being right or a personal bond with the person? it makes so much sense that Scream and Andi create this mindset given they both felt like they had no one there for them at one point or another, like they couldn't possibly be saved, like they were doomed.... but they both found a home in eachother, and they were saved by each other. they (especially Andi but.. you know) are angry about having to feel like that and don't want anyone else to feel like that. specifically kids and probably people in F.E.A.S.T after the convo with aunt may? anyways this is just so special and wonderful to m

#scream #scream: curse of carnage #venom #marvel #my heart has a hole in it and its shaped like them #women who are angry ♥️❤️💞❣️❤️💗❤️💕💓❤️ #the glowing eyes are super cute also. cant get over them #scream: curse of carnage spoilers

[symbioteburnout]

Could Andi be getting a girlfriend...?

Random screenshots from Scream Curse of Carnage #6

My thoughts; either ‘Guinevere’ is a new character, or (and most likely) she’s Spider-Gwen working undercover.

#comic pages #comic panels #andrea benton #andi benton #scream #Scream Curse of Carnage #marvel comics #wednesday spoilers

[reliena-red-is-a-witch]

Scream :Curse Of Carnage #1

#spoilers #scream #scream symbiote #scream curse of carnage #venom #carnage #symbiote #andi Benton

[kkeidawrites]

Lost Light

Whew, let me tell y'all writing this one shot was killing me...having to re-watch and relive the experience from this made me have a broken heart again like all those years ago. But, here we are.

Loki Laufeyson x black!reader

Disclaimer: The story you are about to read is full of spoilers from the Avengers: Infinity War movie, I do not own any of the quotes or the gifs that are displayed on this fanfic, that all belongs to Disney, Marvel Studios which is a subsidiary of Walt Disney Studios and its proper companies and I would suggest you not read this if you have not seen the movie yet. This story is both fictional and all the characters that are mentioned are all my personal, made up ocs that I wanted to share. So, just you know, prepare yourselves. Thank you.

The stench.

The falling ash.

The haunting distress call, pleading for any help that was close by, didn't reach a willing ear.

Pieces of the ship, that once held all of the surviving members of Asgard, were scattered astray and skewed in space.

Asgardians young and old littered the remaining floating, functioning part of the ship, dead and being stabbed again by the ones who created the carnage to ensure they stayed dead.

Mawu watched helplessly as Thor laid on the bay of the ship, defeated and critically wounded, his breathing was becoming labored but the Moon Goddess couldn't do anything as she was restrained by the large behemoth that had its foot on her back.

They had fought valiantly and fearlessly, but in the end it didn't matter, Thanos had took them down without breaking a sweat. His lackeys went to work to kill the rest of the innocent Asgardians, claiming he was doing them a favor.

"Your people are nothing now...you have no world to occupy." he had said after he broke our spirits. He spoke to us like we were his captured kill from a glorious hunt.

"Your people are powerless, tired, it would be best to end your suffering."

"I know what it's like to lose," the titan turns his back to stare at Loki who shifted his gaze from his wife back to Thanos. The last thing he needed was the titan to know that he was a married man and Loki refused to allow anymore harm come to her.

He had done so in the past and he vowed to protect her since then. Mawu watched powerless as the feeling of the creature's foot pressed a bit more on her back, making Mawu grunt in pain.

"Feels so desperately that you are right, yet to fail none the less."

Thanos approaches Thor and picks him up by the neck dragging him over to Loki's stiff form.

"Turns the legs to jelly. I ask you to what end? Dread it, run from it. Destiny arrives all the same. Now it's here, should I say 'I am..'"

Thor makes a clipped comment and Loki quickly gazes at his brother fearfully then back to the menacing titan's glare.

"The Tesseract or your brother's head." His large fist began to squeeze the new king's head.

"I assume you have a preference?" Thanos asked smug.

"Oh, I do. Kill away." Loki's statement lifts the titan's chin smugly and Mawu's jaw drops in disbelief; the large brute then takes the power infinity stone and presses it against the side of Thor's head. Thor screams from the immense pain that was coming from the stone and Mawu squirmed under the beast's foot.

"Stop it! Leave him alone!" Mawu yells as she struggled. More pressure was applied to her back and the Goddess gasps in pain going limp, and had no choice but to listen to the agonizing screams of the king of Asgard. Tears were running down her cheeks, as a sob left her lips.

After all they had been through, Loki would pull something like this. Mawu believed that her husband had changed for the better and here he was allowing this monster to kill his own brother. She struggled to turn her head and out of the corner of her eye she watched her husband. He was looking conflicted to what was happening. Thor let out another excruciating cry of pain and Loki balled his fists at his sides.

"Alright, stop!" Loki yells.

The power stone was removed from his brother's head and Thor panted helplessly at Thano's side. Loki sighs in relief.

"We don't have the Tesseract. It was destroyed on Asgard." Thor wheezes.

Low and behold, Loki materializes the Tesseract in his right hand, raised to Thano's eye and the titan gives a chilling grin.

"You..you really are the worst brother." Thor says and Loki comes closer to Thanos as if to hand over the sacred item to him.

"I assure you brother , the sun will shine on us again." Loki tells him and that makes Thanos chuckle.

"Your optimism is misplaced Asgardian."

"Well for one thing, I'm not Asgardian. And for another, we have a Hulk." Just as he said that, the green gamma fused hero came barreling through and punches Thanos giving Loki enough time to move Thor out of harm's way.

"Let him have his fun." Ebony Maw tells Black Dwarf who moved to help their master.

Mawu was shocked at the quick turn of events and the pressure on her back was lifted long enough for her to roll out from under Black Dwarf and use her cosmic beam emission to blast him away from her. Sending another beam at Corvus Glaive, Mawu floated over to Thanos to help Hulk.

This brought Proxima Midnight attention to Mawu's sudden escape and she steps in Mawu's way to halt her assault. Spins her three-pronged spear to ready her stance. Mawu readies herself and her hands and eyes begin to glow a bright blue color.

"You won't leave here alive." she taunts with a smirk.

"We will see, bitch." Mawu sends beams her way and Proxima dodges them, moving close to unleash swings from her spear. Mawu dodges them and blocks the ones that reached her face.

Hulk began with having the upperhand on Thanos but, the titan quickly unbalanced him and took his down within seconds, hauling his large body over his head then slamming it on the ground of the ship's bay. Hulk lays there defeated and not moving.

Thor comes up behind Thanos and hits him with a lead pipe that bounces off his armor and the titan turns around and pushes him away. Ebony Maw takes this time to use his psychokinesis and trap Thor's body with the iron from the ship.

Mawu manages to scratch Proxima's right cheek and the woman grunts in pain touching her cheek to feel the blue blood running down to her lip. She gives a battlecry and sweeps her spear under Mawu's feet but she was quicker to jump back and uses her right leg to come down and snaps the spear in half.

Proxima uses one end of her spear to throw at the Moon Goddess and Mawu dodges it.

Elbowing her in the face, Mawu is quick to get onto her hands and spin her straightened feet in a kick combo on her face. Proxima dodges the first spin but was hit by the second one, along with an uppercut Mawu sent once she returned to her feet.

.As she stumbles back from the attack, Mawu grabs Proxima by the neck and throws her down into the ground, raising her leg to bring it down on her head as a final blow when she was suddenly grabbed by the back of her neck and pulled away from her opponent. Black Dwarf had grabbed her threw her but, Mawu was stopped by an invisible force.

The Goddess squirmed from the invisible force holding her and turned her head to see Ebony Maw holding her against her will.

She cursed him in her native tongue as she was left floating at his side.

However, the thing Mawu saw was Heimdall as he prayed softly to his ancestors and her eyes widened at what he was doing.

"Forefathers, let the dark magic flow through me one last...time." his soft prayer was heard and the Bifrost was opened and immediately took Hulk away. Thanos approaches Heimdall and grabs Corvus Glaive's double-sided polearm as he looks down at the struggling man.

"That was a mistake." Thanos tells the watchman of the gods and stabs the polearm through his heart. Heimdall stares defiantly at Thanos until his last breath of life left his body and he fell limp against the piece of metal he was propped up against. Thor cries in anguish as he watched his friend die and glares hatefully at the titan.

"You going to die for that." Thor swears to Thanos then his lips are bound when Ebony Maw seals his lips with metal.

Ebony Maw then presents the Tesseract to Thanos, as he kneels before the titan and the purple brute removes his armor, and plucks the cube from his lackey's hand. He crushes it and inside his hand sits the space stone. He places the stone on his gauntlet and hums in pleasure of the new power flowing through him.

Mawu suddenly feels weak and lethargic, her head begins to pound severely. You see, when the space stone is disrupted, it effects those who helped create the universe, Mawu is beginning to lose her powers because, the space stone is what keeps the balance of all the nine realms in harmony. With a dark heart like Thanos, the space stone could easily kill the creator gods of the universe.

"There are two more stones on Earth," Thanos marvels at the stones on his gauntlet, he then turns his attention to his 'children'.

"Find them my children, and bring them to me on Titan." he orders and his 'children' kneel down in front of him in respect.

"Father we will not fail you." Proxima Midnight says. Mawu glares at the woman.

"Karachi ẹnu kẹtẹkẹtẹ bishi (Stupid kissing ass bitch)." Mawu cursed and Proxima gives her a menacing glare as if she understood what the Goddess said.

"If I might interject," Loki makes his appearance and slowly moves closer to Thanos.

"If you are going to Earth, you might want a guide. I do have experience in that arena." he gives a dry chuckle.

"If you call failure experience.

"I consider experience, experience."

"Oh mighty Thanos," he grew closer now as he sneakily summoned a knife in his left hand.

"I, Loki, prince of Asgard...Odin's son, the rightful king of the Jotunheim, God of Mischief...do hereby pledge to you..." he gives his wife a look. Just one look to show that he loved her and Mawu's eyes widened. Mawu watched in horror as her husband approached the titan and began shaking her head.

"...my undying infidelity." Loki moves to strike Thanos through the throat but, the space stone possesses his arm to stop him. Loki pants in disbelief and Mawu struggles in her metal bindings, trying desperately to get out to help her husband.

"Loki! Get out of there! Loki!" she screams to her lover, whom even if he wanted to, could not move.

"Undying? You should use your words more carefully." Thanos scolds Loki and pushes back his arm, making the God of Mischief grunt in pain as he was quickly disarmed and Thanos gripped him by the throat. Mawu struggled harder as the titan raised her lover higher to get a better look at him. Loki's choking gargles alerted both her and Thor.

"Let him go you alainiye lori (son of a bitch)! Loki!" Mawu grunts as her metal prison squeezed around her body. She watched pitifully as her husband squirmed in Thano's squeezing grip and her tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Don't...Do not do this! Please don't do this!" she cries as the sound of Loki's bones began rattling.

As he struggled, Loki had the gal to look in Thanos in the eyes as he whimpered out one last statement. "You...will never be...a god." Loki then shifts his wavering gaze to his wife and gave her a painful smile then mouthing his love to her before the crack of his neck resounded in the tense atmosphere.

"Noooooooooooo!" Mawu yells.

Thor's muffled cry of anguish is a haunting one as Thanos brings his dead brother's body over to his bound form, dropping him at his feet.

"No resurrections this time." Thanos taunts. The titan then raises his gauntlet and activates the power stone, all around them what's left of the Statesmen began to explode and Thanos uses the space stone to open a portal and the Black Order leave the blowing up ship.

The metal around Thor disintegrated and he quickly crawled over to Loki's body. He looked over his brother's face and sobs left his lips as he hugged him to his chest.

"Loki..." he whimpers solmenly.

Mawu however, had another agenda, once she was released from the metal prison her eyes had coated over to a dark blue color and her hands glowed a illuminated white color. Her adrenaline was high as hell and so was her anger which gave her more of a boost as she flew up from the Statesmen and aimed her glowing hands at Thanos' ship.

"O gba ọkọ mi, ẹbi mi, lẹhinna o ro pe o kan le sá? Iwọ yoo ku loni, aderubaniyan(You take my husband, my family, and then you think you can just run away? You will die today, monster)! " Mawu beams up her hands and begins throwing concentrated cosmic energy balls at the ship.

Two of the engines on the ship went up in flames, and Mawu flew closer to punch a side of the ship but, her assault was cut short when a canon blasted her away. This gave the ship enough time to portal out of there.

Mawu regained her balance mid-flight and her brows furrowed in anger as she watched the ship disappear through the portal. Her tears returned and her adrenaline wore off, as the Statesmen blew up in a purple flash behind her. Mawu welcomed the force of the blast as her eyes returned to its original brown color.

She simply floated in outer space as the debris of both the ship and deceased Asgardians coasted past her. Mawu's eyes caught Loki's departed form and moved closer to him, grabbing his cold hand and pulling him to her chest. Mawu cried in his chest as she wrapped his arms around her body, wanting to once again feel his loving embrace.

The moon has a dark side and it has a bright side but, with how her emotions played out, the moon has been cased in a dark grey hue that stirs the gravity on the Earth.

Mawu didn't care about any of that right now...her husband was dead, her heart has been torn in two, and there was nothing she could do to change it. Mawu's eyes filmed over a grey color and she fell limply against her deceased husband's chest as her body shut down into a vegetative state.

The light was lost from the moon that day and the end of the universe was closer.

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I hope you all had a good cry like I did when I wrote this story. This had been sitting in my brain for weeks, yall. WEEKS. And I finally sat my ass down and wrote it. So, enjoy, like, comment and reblog. Also make sure to head over to my inbox for any requests. Peace y'all.

#black reader #black oc #mawu oc #loki x black!reader #loki laufeyson #fanfiction #black fanfiction #my writing #loki layfeyson x reader #loki layfeyson x black!reader #marvel #marvel x oc

[cloudaura93]

Fall for You Pt.2 - Cindy/Alice Fanfiction (FEAR STREET)

Synopsis: SPOILER WARNING. Please don’t read if you haven’t watched the whole series. The second part of this story. Picks up at the end of the first part and covers the ending of the 1978 massacre flashback. I have an idea for a smaller final story to wrap everything up. Cindy and Ziggy are trying to reunite Sarah Fier’s hand with her body to stop the curse meanwhile Alice is helping in her own way as best she can given the circumstances. AU with alternating POVs between Alice and Cindy. 

Alice’s POV:

I hear Cindy and Ziggy flee the cabin as I struggle to subdue Tommy, my former friend and current possessed killer. He throws me off, recovers, and lifts me up by my neck slowly squeezing my windpipe, and then decides to toss me through the front doors of the cabin instead of strangulation. I land hard with a thud on my back while also smacking my head on the ground.

“Ouch.” I say under my breath as I slowly sit up and start scrambling to my feet. I see Tommy slowly approaching with the axe in hand, and I realize I either need to run away or find a weapon. A weapon. Of course. I reach down and remove the knife from the sheath Cindy used as part of the splint to support my fucked up leg.

“Here goes nothing.” I whisper as I launch myself toward him. When I’m a couple feet away, I throw the knife toward his face where it hits its mark squarely in his left eye as I dodge to the right, narrowly avoiding the impact from the axe swing. It momentarily stuns him as I start hobbling away to hide. I hope I bought Cindy and Ziggy enough time. I hope they are still alive because I’ll be damned if I let some stupid ass curse ruin my life further especially after I just got my girl back. We deserve happiness too.

I expect Tommy to continue pursuing me, but instead I turn around and realize that he is heading in the opposite direction.

“Oh shit!” I exclaim as it hits me that I was only a distraction, and the main target is Ziggy who is at the Hanging Tree with her sister trying to reunite Sarah Fier’s hand to her body. I instantly swivel around and limp behind killer Tommy moving as fast as I can. I try to keep up to hopefully have a chance to warn the girls as they try to stop this carnage once and for all.

We are approaching our mutual destination a few minutes later, and I notice out of my peripheral vision that I’m too late to help. I watch my beautiful snitch getting brutalized by her ex-boyfriend’s axe at the same time Ziggy is being repeatedly stabbed by the Milkman. It’s like some horrible plaguing nightmare, all playing out in slow motion while I’m about thirty seconds away, but hopeless to do anything to help. 

“NOOOO!” I scream out in agony as I collapse to the ground on my knees ignoring the piercing pain in my leg.

As I’m crying for a few seconds, it suddenly goes quiet and I glance up to see all the Shadyside killers have disappeared. I instinctively crawl on my knees toward the girls’ bodies hoping to say goodbye. I’m almost to Cindy when I hear the rustling of footsteps next to me. 

“Alice?!” He says, and I recognize the voice. Nick Goode. Of course he’s here. Fucking Sunnyvale’s prodigal son. The savior. The knight in shining armor trying to rescue the poor surviving Shadyside campers.

“Save her Nick! Save Ziggy!” I shout through choked back sobs willing him to understand my meaning as I sadly reach my girlfriend, and grasp her hand letting the tears flow down my cheeks. I couldn’t save Cindy, but I can at least attempt to keep her sister alive.

“I will. I promise. And Alice? I’m sorry.” Before I can even react, I feel a stinging sensation in my back and as my vision fades to black, I realize that this is how I’m going to die. With a whimper, not a bang. Alone and betrayed by Nick fucking Goode. A literal backstabber. You unimaginable bastard. We were so close. Not that it matters anymore. No one will remember us, and our sacrifice. This will just be another unfortunate and bloody tale of the cursed town of Shadyside. The infamous Camp Nightwing massacre of 1978.

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Cindy’s POV:

As Ziggy and I are digging down to find Sarah Fier’s body, we stumble upon something hard that we hit with the shovels. 

“I found something!” Ziggy states excitedly. I hold my breath as I help her unearth whatever was buried underneath the tree. It’s a rock with an engraving on it.

“The witch forever lives.” I shakily gasp out.

“The witch forever lives.” My little sister repeats the statement before following up with “Cindy, what does it mean? Cindy?!” She asks worriedly.

“I don’t know.” I answer softly.

“What...where is she? Where’s the body?” 

“I don’t know.” I replied. We share a look first at each other and then at Tommy who is on our tails.

“This way. Come on.” I continue as I grab Ziggy’s arms and drag her up so we can attempt to run away. We turn around and realize that the other Shadyside killers are also here quickly approaching from every direction.

“What do you want, Sarah Fier? You want this?” As I hold up her hand. “You can have it. Just let my sister live. Just let my sister live!” I plead. I drop the hand next to the hole we dug in frustration and grab one of the shovels.

I realize sadly that there is no escape, at least not for me. But I can protect Ziggy as best I can and give her a fighting chance.

“You bled on the bone. They are after you. Get ready to run.” I tell her sadly. I’m so sorry Ziggy. I’m so sorry Alice. I wish we had more time to spend together, to make up for lost time. I tried my best but I failed both of you again. I love you so much. I’ll see you again.

“No Cindy no!” I hear her cry out at the realization of my decision. I hurriedly take hold of her arm again and we start sprinting together. At the last second however, I push her aside and swing the shovel at Tommy where I connect with his head but he immediately retaliates with a smack to my head with the axe’s blunt end. 

I fall down onto the ground hard helpless as I glance out of the corner of my eye to hear Ziggy screaming while being attacked by the Milkman at the same time the axe collides with my chest piercing my insides. Tommy strikes me repeatedly and as blood begins gurgling out of my mouth, I turn my head to face my baby sister who I notice is reaching out her hand toward me. I reciprocate the gesture and say one last thing to her knowing this is the end. 

“Nothing...will...pull...us...apart…” I gasp my final breath as the world goes dark and my eyes slowly close and I feel myself fading away. 

Some time later…

Cindy’s POV:

“Cindy. Wake up. You need to see this...to understand.” A disembodied voice whispers in my ear. I struggle to regain consciousness as I hear the faint sounds of terror around me.

“This is important. Please wake up.” The voice repeats itself. I stir and slowly attempt to stand as I’m feeling wobbly on my feet. Once my balance returns, I instantly realize that I feel different than I did when I was alive not too long ago.

“Where...where am I?” I ask the voice which has a feminine tone to it.

“Not quite sure. All I know is this is where the poor unfortunate souls who have attempted to thwart the Goode family’s treachery end up after they die. It’s sort of like limbo and you are a ghost observing the effects of the curse until one day it can finally end.”

I nod in understanding as I look around and realize that I’m standing at the edge of the clearing where the Hanging Tree is located.

“Sarah Fier.” I reply, finally figuring it out. 

“Yes. It’s me. I tried to warn you. I’ve always tried warning everyone who stumbles upon the curse. No one has ever figured it out completely. You were the closest, but alas you ran out of time just like the others.” She answers sadly.

“Will she live? Did I save my sister at least?” I inquire as I stare at Ziggy who is slowly dying.

“No. You did your best, but ultimately failed. Your girlfriend fared slightly better, but will still pay the ultimate price.” Sarah replies as she teleports us closer to the tree. I stare in shock as I notice my dear sweet Alice stumbling toward my body.

“Alice! No! I have to help her!” I cry out desperately wanting to save her from her fate as Nick Goode drives a knife deep into her back where she collapses onto my corpse, the light leaving her eyes as she bleeds out.

“She’s gone, but your sister will live. Nick Goode will see to it. Take solace that she survives. And your dear Alice will join us shortly so you will be reunited. You won’t share this existence alone..” Sarah nonchalantly explains. 

As if on command, I hear soft footsteps from behind and spin around to face my badass and brave girlfriend.

“Hey snitch.” She greets with a smirk. I race over and embrace her by wrapping my arms around her neck, tears misting at my eyes. She instinctively wraps her arms around my waist and pulls me closer. We hold each other for a couple minutes until I have to ask her a very important question.

“What took you so long?” I whisper in her ear echoing the last time I said that to her when we were still alive. She pulls back from the hug and grasps both my hands with her own.

“Three guesses. Besides, I couldn’t leave you to face this uncertain future alone. You are stuck with me now princess. For better or worse. Not letting you go this time” She beams.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I smile and close the gap between us to gently kiss her on the lips. 

Despite recent events, I still have hope. Alice and I get to spend eternity together even though we are both dead, and Ziggy lives even with survivor’s guilt. It’s not a perfect happy ending, but I’ll take what I can get. It’s better than what most Shadysiders get to experience in their lives.

And since we have been given a second chance to fix our mistakes and help prevent the spilling of more innocent bloodshed, it means we have a chance to help the next generation. To help Sarah stop the Goode family from continuing to enact this curse over Shadyside. Alice and I just need to watch over Ziggy until she’s ready, and then bide our time until the opportunity presents itself to intervene. This time we will be ready, and revenge is a dish best served cold. We are coming for you Nick Goode, one way or another.

The End?

#fear street 1978 #fear street #fear street 1994 #fear street 1666 #horror #fanfiction #cindy/alice #cindy berman #alice fear street #f/f #fanfic #lgbtq #netflix #rl stine

[uncomicmas]

Reseña de EXTREME CARNAGE SCREAM #1 libre de spoilers, a la venta el miercoles por Marvel ¿De qué viene? ¡SCREEEEEAM! ¡El escritor de SCREAM: CURSE OF CARNAGE Clay McLeod Chapman regresa al personaje para prestar su sensibilidad letal a EXTREME CARNAGE! Andi Benton siempre ha sido una luchadora, y eso nunca ha sido más cierto desde que se unió al simbionte Scream hace unos meses. Pero incluso después de ABSOLUTE CARNAGE y KING IN BLACK, Andi nunca ha tenido que luchar así y, peor aún, si no puede salvar a su simbionte de cualquier fuerza invisible que lo esté afectando, es posible que tenga que hacerlo sola ... Trama Carnage tiene un plan que involucra al senador Peter Krane, cuando Scream detiene a una amenaza en la ciudad, Carnage la contacta, tiene un nuevo control sobre los simbiontes que supera a la unión entre Andi y Scream. Este cómic revela algo del plan de Carnage y como poco a poco se va fortaleciendo. Mucha accion y suspenso. Arte Destaca la fluidez de Carnage y Simbiote asi como sus poderes. Resumen Andi sufre una perdida inesperada Calificación 3.8 de 5 Créditos Fecha de lanzamiento: 14 de Julio Escrito por CLAY MCLEOD CHAPMAN Arte de CHRIS MOONEYHAM Portada de SKAN Fuente @marvel #carnage #venom #symbiote #djcarnage #marshmello #yellowclaw #trapnation #djsnake #thesound #junkiekid #astateoftrance #marshmellomusic #flosstradamus #ilovehousemusic #traphouse #asot #skrillex #afrojack #r3hab #edmlovers #steveaoki #tiesto #trapmusic #owsla #alesso #deadmau5 #hardwell #diplo #martingarrix https://www.instagram.com/p/CROoOVDnZct/?utm_medium=tumblr

#1 #carnage #venom #symbiote #djcarnage #marshmello #yellowclaw #trapnation #djsnake #thesound #junkiekid #astateoftrance #marshmellomusic #flosstradamus #ilovehousemusic #traphouse #asot #skrillex #afrojack #r3hab #edmlovers #steveaoki #tiesto #trapmusic #owsla #alesso #deadmau5 #hardwell #diplo #martingarrix

[spider-manholland]

I’ve Been Broken Before | Peter Parker

part three of the mending hearts mini-series

Pairing(s): Ex!Peter Parker x Female Reader, Peter Parker x Michelle Jones, Brad Davis x Female Reader

Warning(s): angst of course, tiny bit of fluff, swearing, Far From Home spoilers

Summary: Sometimes it takes losing the person you once loved to make you realize how much they still mean to you.

Requested by @decaffeinated-turtle 

Masterlist

“God, he’s so fucking stupid.” You groaned angrily, tearing a piece of toilet paper off the roll and dabbing it gently under your eyes, wiping the running mascara that stained your face. “Why would he do that?” You asked yourself, tossing the now black-ish colored toilet paper into the garbage before grabbing another piece.

“He’s so stupid...” You mumbled quietly, staring at yourself in the dirty mirror and cringing at the sight of your reflection. Your eyes were bloodshot from your recent crying, your cheeks were bright red from anger and frustration but also heartache. “Why did he have to do that?” You asked to yourself, feeling another sob building up in your throat as tears filled your eyes once again, the memory of what just happened reappearing in your mind.

You were sitting on one of the benches beside the stone bridge in the center of the market area with your phone in your hand, the image of the Red Dragon necklace that you wanted so much visible on your screen. After staring at the picture for a few seconds with disappointment clear on your face, you clicked ‘delete’.

“This sucks,” you muttered softly to yourself, frowning slightly as you shoved your phone back into your pocket. Getting that necklace was the only reason why you were excited to even go to Venice, only to find out you didn’t have enough money for it. Your entire class trip to Europe was now ruined because going to Venice was the only thing you looked forward to since that was the only place you haven’t visited that was on your trip’s itinerary.

“Hey.” You whipped your head around at someone’s voice, your heart stopping at the sight of Peter standing behind you with a small smile on his face. “Can I sit?” He asked, gesturing towards the empty spot next to you.

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, sliding yourself to one side of the bench as Peter sat down on the other side. You felt your eyes glance down at his hands, seeing that he was now holding two bags instead of one. “You got another piece of jewelry from that store?” You asked, motioning towards the small teal colored bags in his hands. “How could you afford it? They’re really expensive.”

“I have my ways.” He answered, slowly sliding one of the bags towards you, causing you to stare at him confusingly. Seeing your face, Peter just nodded head towards the bag, signaling you see what it was. You carefully took the bag in your hands and opened it, your heart fluttering in your chest when seeing the Red Dragon necklace laying in the bottom of the paper bag.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, taking the piece of jewelry into your hands and running your thumb gently over the smooth red glass. “Why?”

“Because I remember you telling me about it.” He answered, smiling at your reaction to his gift. “You told me that it reminded you of Mushu—ya know, from your favorite movie of all time-”

“No.” You cut him off, your tone becoming harsh, causing Peter’s smile to drop. “I mean why did you get me this? We aren’t together anymore, Peter.”

“I was just trying to be nice.” Peter replied softly, his voice as low as a whisper. “We’re friends, so I just thought-”

“We’re not friends.” You stopped him, shaking your head. You could feel your heart ache at the broken expression on his face, his lips curling down into a frown. You didn’t want to be mean to him, especially after what he just did for you but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t ‘just’ be friends with him after everything you both went through with each other. You were there for him when his parents passed away, when he get his powers, when his Uncle Ben died. You there when he became Spider-Man, you took care of him whenever he was injured from his patrols. So you couldn’t ‘just’ be friends with him, because you both suffered through too much together to ‘just’ be friends.

“Keep it.” You dropped the necklace back into the bag and shoved it against his chest, your words laced with anger. “I’m sure she will love it.”

You stood up from the bench and walked away him, not wanting to be anywhere near him because you knew that if you stared into his soft brown eyes for one more second you’d break down, and you knew that he was watching you.

You entered some random shop by the bridge that sold decorated vases and walked up to the front counter, getting the worker’s attention. “Excuse me, do you have a bathroom I could use?” The worker nodded his head and pointed towards an open door. “Just take the staircase down and the bathroom will be right in front of you.”

“Thank you.” You smiled politely before heading towards the stairway, already feeling the tears swell up in your eyes and begin to slide down.

You didnt realize you were crying again until you felt the tear drops fall onto your arm, breaking you out of your thoughts and bringing you back to reality, the first thing you see was your tear-stained face. “Shit.” You cursed, tearing a couple more toilet papers off of the roll and used them to wipe your tears and the rest of your mascara off.

“Shit!” You repeated again more loudly, but this time it wasn’t because of your tears. Instead it was the guilty feeling forming in the pit of your stomach for snapping at Peter. He didn’t deserve it and you knew that, he was just being his normal self, always nice and caring. But the breakup between you two was still fresh and you’re trying to move on, like he is. But when he does something that, buying you the one thing you’ve wanted for so long makes getting over him so much harder and falling in love with him even more so much easier.

You knew accepting the gift he got for you would’ve been the easier and better choice for the both of you. But seeing the other bag, knowing that he was going to give her a gift too made your blood boil. Because you knew him giving you yours was a friendly gesture, but to her, it would be romantic and that hurt you.

I should head back, you thought, wiping the last of your tears and fixing your hair. The others are probably wondering where I am.

Just as you were about leave the bathroom, the ground shook abruptly, causing you to stumble back, your eyes widening. “What the hell-” You began ask no one in particular but the ground then shook again, this time more violently, sending you falling on your back right onto the hard tile floor, pain shooting through your body as it made contact with the ground.

“Holy shit.” You gasped, your wide-eyes staring at the ceiling that now had large cracks spreading all along it. You shot up from the ground, ignoring the pain in your right ankle as you went to open the door, but it didn’t. You banged your fists against it, trying to force it open but no luck. “Hey!” You shouted, banging your fist against the door harder. “Can someone help me! I think the door is stuck-” You froze, feeling your feet suddenly become wet.

Glancing down at the ground, you could see water pouring in from under the door, soon flooding the bathroom floor.

You quickly reached for your phone and dialed the first number you could think of. The one person you knew that could help you get out of this situation. Peter.

- - -

Peter didn’t know exactly was going on but all he could think of right was stopping whatever that—water monster was. He was swinging from building to building wearing some random masquerade mask, due to the fact he didn’t have his suit with him, trying to help whoever that magic-wielding man was who suddenly appeared out of no where and immediately attacked the monster.

While swinging and trying to follow the carnage, Peter could suddenly feel his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Peter quickly landed on some random building’s roof and pulled out his phone, his entire body tensing up when seeing your name appear. “Y/N, I can’t talk right now-”

“Peter, I need your help!” Peter felt his heart sink at the sound of your panicked voice. “What’s wrong? Where are you?” He asked, his voice filled with worry.

“I-I’m stuck in the bathroom at that store that sells decorated vases by the bridge.” You answered, stuttering. “Water is pouring in and it won’t stop.”

“I’m on my way.” Peter said, already firing his webs in the direction of the now destroyed bridge where you were currently at. “Just try standing up in high places.  Like the toilet or sink.”

“O-Okay,” your trembling voice pushing Peter to swing faster, practically slingshotting himself from building to building with his webs. “Just please, Peter. Hurry.”

Peter ended the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket, now using both of his hands to fire and swing from his webs, increasing his speed.

When Peter got to the shop he immediately ran inside, tearing the masquerade mask off his face, his eyes landing on the worker hiding behind the counter. “Hey, where’s the bathroom?”

“D-Down the stairs.” The worker stuttered out, pointing at the doorway with his trembling finger that led to the bathroom you were currently stuck inside. Peter gave the man a nod before running towards the stairway, ignoring the soaking feeling in his shoes as he ran through the small puddles that covered the store. Peter froze, his heart sinking when seeing the water already at the top of the stairs.

“Oh no,” Peter mumbled to himself before diving into the water, swimming down until he got the door, seeing a piece of rubble that fell from the ceiling blocking it. Peter swam over and wrapped his fingers of the edge of it, using all of his strength to pull it away from it. Come on, he screamed internally to himself as he used all his strength to finally tear the piece of rubble away from the door. He pulled it open, feeling his heart immediately fall into the pit of his stomach at the sight of you, just—floating.

Peter swam as quick as he could, taking you in his arms before swimming back up the staircase, gasping for air as soon as you both reached the surface.

Laying you down gently onto wet floor, Peter took in your features, tears forming in his eyes when seeing your pale skin and the blueish color on your lips. Peter laid his head down onto your chest, his heart stopping when he couldn’t hear any beat. He didn’t waste anytime before beginning compressions and blowing air into your mouth, just like how he was taught in health class.

It took him only a couple tries before you shot up from your laying position, coughing up the water that clogged up your throat and gasping for air. “Hey baby,” Peter cupped your face in his hands, forcing your eyes to meet his, both of you unaware to what he just called you. “Look at me, you’re okay. You’re okay.”

You weakily nodded, resting your head against his chest as his strong arms wrapped protectively around you, holding you close. “I’m s-sorry for yelling at you, Peter.” You sniffled, letting your hands rest on his chest.

“You almost died from drowning and that’s all you gonna say?” Peter joked, feeling his heartache at the realization. You almost died. “I-I’m just sorry.” You mumbled softly, stuffing your face deeper into his chest as tears stream down your face. You could feel your breathing slowly get back to normal as well as your heart rate as Peter just held you close.

“It’s okay.” Peter smiled, rubbing his hands comfortingly up and down your back.

“I got you. I got you.”

A/N ~ I suck at writing action or intense scenes so sorry if the part of Peter swinging around wasn’t really that good.

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and let me know if you want to be part of this series taglist.

- Permanent Taglist -

@laic2299 // @starsholland // @untoldstoriescomingtrough // @squid-kidd8 // @harringtonwife // @maybemona // @valentinevirgo // @disgustangg // @peterparkers-waffles // @xxtomxo

- Series Taglist -  (if your username is crossed out that means I couldn't tag you.)

@wonders-of-the-universe // @stuckonpeterparker // @cherry3bombshell // @slytherpuffyy // @skarsgard-bill-sstuff // @the-nargles-made-me-do-it // @liljennyx3 // @h00drhatwaifu // @fakindob // @charli-xy // @imagine-lovebug // @greene-house // @sweetdarlingholland // @t-holland2080 // @baby-unidorn // @unsolvedhearts // @fizaalam98 // @lunatic--charm // @lbuck121 // @its-the-unknownspidey // @ravngers // @tomshufflepuff // @hypotheticallyhumanxx // @mizzvanjie // @jessiyoshi // @clairestarkparker // @yoonmiint // @tom-hollands-blog // @awokenfandoms // @goldenpeaxh // @geeksareunique // @promiscuous-banana // @ppkrtingle // @spideyyeet // @parkeret // @cleoprker

#spider-manholland #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker oneshot #peter parker blurb #peter parker imagine #peter parker series #peter parker headcanon #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #spiderman angst #spiderman fluff #spiderman oneshot #spiderman imagine #spiderman blurb #spiderman series #spiderman headcanon #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland oneshot

[blazefire-engine]

Chapter 13 Verse 3

Based on the additional route, Chapter 13 Verse 2, in which we saw Gladio and Ignis traversing Zegnautus Keep.  In this fictional piece, we will see Lightning’s perspective.  {Spoiler Caution}

AN: So I’ve had this in my files for a whiiiile.  I couldn’t bring myself to finish it, but here it is!  You might notice the writing is a bit different from my others (and plot points slightly off), and it’s because I wrote this in 2017.  

I thought this would never see the light of day! (Heh, get it? Light of day?  Because Eos fell into darkness for 10 years?   While this fic has been buried for almost 3... Heh...)

With slow, cautious steps, Lightning glanced around the corner.  Clutched tightly in her fingers was Blazefire Saber in gun form.  

Mere hours ago, the four of them escaped the daemon infested train and infiltrated the capital of Niflheim, Gralea.  During their escape, they managed to pull through miraculously unscathed, despite the fact their connection with the Crystal was somehow severed, disallowing the call to summon weapons.  They were delivered unharmed to the capital with the exception of one unfortunate casualty; the Regalia, having given its final push, bursted through Gralea’s gates.  

Events turned for the worst when they were separated from Noctis.  The Prince was weaponless but, by no means, defenseless.  However, the unknowns inside Zegnautus Keep is enough reason for the three of them to reunite with Noctis immediately.  

As they were about to enter the Keep, Ardyn intervened and somehow, with a snap of his fingers, returned their connection to the Crystal, allowing them to summon their weapons once more.  

Making their way in the mazy, military base, Lightning was separated from Gladiolus and Ignis.  No doubt it was Ardyn’s handiwork messing with the base’s operational controls and doorways.  

Rounding the corner and her weapon ready, Lightning let out a breath as no enemies were in the vicinity.  

She was grateful she chose to bring along her trusty gunblade.  While she could have opted for her Crimson Blitz or Overture, Blazefire Saber was unique due to its independence of the Crystal.   Her two other weapons were bestowed upon her with the Crystal’s connection.  The incident earlier made her aware that it is possible for the Crystal’s link to be severed anytime.  

The hallways seemed never-ending.  The amount of time that had passed was unknown.  After a period of silence, she sensed a change as she heard one of the doors hiss and footsteps echoed down the hall.  

Lightning spotted a crevice in the hall, big enough for her to hide in.  She slipped in and held her breath, her weapon ready once more.  

As the footsteps approached closer, she stilled and as a portion of its silhouette came into view, Lightning whipped out her weapon in blade form, appearing like a thorn on a rose.  

The figure raised both its arms.  Familiar and clad in black, relief surged through her as she wiggled out of the hiding space.  

“Noctis.”  She exclaimed, retracting her gunblade and returning it to its case by her thighs.  

“Lightning!”  He surged forward, wrapping his arms around her.  

Settling her head below his jaw, she breathed in and muttered softly.  “Thank, Eos, I thought I would never find you.”

“I’m alright.”  Noctis murmured in her hair.  “Why are you alone?”

“I was separated from Ignis and Gladio.  This place is a damn maze.”

“At least we’re together now.”  They separated from the embrace and he nodded towards her saber.  “And I see you have a weapon.”

“It’s a good thing I brought Blazefire Saber.”

“An interesting inscription.”  He eyed the writing, “‘Invoke my name.  I am Spark.’”

“Yeah.” Lightning looked at him briefly.  Odd.  She had asked him before, what the inscription meant, but he said he didn’t understand the language.  She felt an ominous presence behind her and looked back, but nothing was there.  

“You look rather perturbed.”

Her brows furrowed slightly at his words, but continued to glance back. 

“There’s this daemon, a foras, who I think keeps following me.”

“It shouldn’t be too much trouble for you then”  He winked and they began traversing through the keep.

Long minutes of silence passed as they walked through the halls.  Noctis taking point and Lightning guarding the rear.  It was then they heard an ear-cringing sound caused by a rogue axeman dragging its axe on the metal floor.  

With nowhere else to hide, the two slipped into another narrow, shadowed crevice in the wall.  The space just enough for them, however, the front of their bodies were pressed up against each other, breaths mingling into one.  

As the rogue axeman passed by without notice, Lightning let out the breath she was holding.  About to slip out of their hiding, Noctis blocked her with his arm and slowly tipped her chin upwards.  

“I’m so glad you are here with me.” He breathed softly.  

With his words, Lightning’s heart began to palpitate.  Her duty faltering, wavering, as she became more aware of their bodies, the feeling of his against hers, their breaths mingling into one.  She was sure he could feel her heart. 

“Noct.” She sighed and closed her eyes as his palm cupped her jaw.  How long has it been since they were alone?  How long has it been since they’ve touched intimately?  To be able to shut away the world, if only for a brief moment, and just be Claire and Noctis, not Glaive and King.  

He dived for a rough kiss, molding his lips into hers and their teeth clacking.  He pressed his body further against hers, trapping her within the small space. “Lightning.” He mumbled between frantic kisses.  

She continued to kiss him harshly, pouring out everything.  Everything that had happened since the beginning, King Regis, Insomnia, Altissia, losing Luna, Ignis’ unfortunate injury, losing Prompto, and the destruction of the Regalia.  The grief and pain that had numbed everyone, Noctis the most.  She didn’t know how to help him, if she couldn’t even help herself.  

The kiss continued, she wondered how Noctis wasn’t running out of air.  As her mind began to clear, the kiss began to feel different.  No longer passionate, but rather aggressive and almost violating.  She pulled back a bit to take a breath, but was soon covered again with his mouth, almost suffocating her.  As she felt his tongue about to roam over past her lips, her soldier instincts rang alarm bells in her head.  At that moment, she abruptly pulled away.  

“Noctis, no.” She panted, trying to calm herself and catch a breath.  She shoved him aside and escaped the crevice they were in.  She looked at him warily.  Her instincts still screaming at her.  She knew one thing for sure; the kiss scared her.  Terrified her.  

“I apologize, Lightning.” Noctis murmured as he stepped out of the shadows eerily.  “It wasn’t my intention to scare you.”

Her eyes slightly widened.  

Lightning.

He called her Lightning.

Not Claire.  

And at that moment, her mind ran purely on instinct.  

With a flick of a wrist, Lightning converted her weapon into saber form and had its sharp edge by Noctis’ throat.  

Her cold blue eyes stared against the prince’s, which were unusually calm. 

“Who are you?”

“Lightning, what’re you talking about?”

“Who are you?” She repeated the question, emphasizing each word.  Lightning, he never called her that, not after an intimate moment...

A smirk slipped on his lips.  “I see nothing escapes your notice, Lightning.”

It was still Noctis’ voice, but she can tell it was someone else.  

Ardyn.  She clenched her jaw, pressing the blade further.  The applied pressure tearing the skin of his throat.  A thin trail of blood began to flow.  

“Where’s Noctis?”  

“Traversing towards the keep.” He replied, unfazed by the sharp edge against his throat.  “He’s doing very well for someone without a weapon.  Of course, with the power of kings at his disposal… he shouldn’t have a problem.”

“He wore the ring.” She stated.

“All according to plan.”

“So you forced him to wear it?”

“Of course not.  It was his decision.”

“You separated him from us.  Singled him out... And somehow took and returned our ability to use the crystal’s magic… so who are you?  Really?”  She repeated the question the third time.  But it wasn’t the same implication as before.  As a soldier, she was specifically trained to read people and understand their intentions.  But this man had his own agenda.  What was his plans for Noctis?  

“What are you trying to accomplish?”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow.  “The Great Lightning can’t figure it out?”

“Enough word games.” With a snap of a wrist, her saber switched to gun mode. “You’ll be taking me to where Noctis is.”

As they travelled deeper into the keep, more daemons and troopers appeared and Lightning ticked them off one by one seamlessly, single-handedly while holding Ardyn hostage.

“Very good, Sergeant.” Ardyn crooned and praised in mockery.  “What a fantastic display of butchery.”

“Hn.” She flicked the daemon blood coating her blade. “Doesn’t matter how, as long as the job gets done.”

“Interesting.”  There was a gleam in his eyes that she could not explain.  “Your killing intent.  It's very controlled and calculated.  You make a remarkable soldier.”  She remained silent at his words as he continued on.  “Your crusade of carnage is very palpable.”

“Quiet.”  They walked until they reached a control room and at the other side, a hallway leading to another open space.  Lightning eyed the structure of the room, control panels looked untouched, almost pristine, which could only mean they are nearing to the heart of the keep.

As they strode forward, Lightning paused, eyeing the long hallway littered with dead shock troopers.

“In case there was any doubt: it’s a trap.”

At that instance and with her guard down, he shoved her into the hallway and an energy barrier arose between them, trapping Lightning in the hall.  

“I do thank you for the kiss.”  Ardyn kissed and blew his fingers.  “The Prince is quite lucky.”  With a tip of his hat and a bow, he walked away.

She heard crackling sounds behind her.  The bodies of shock troopers coming to life from the ground.  She cursed under her breath and immediately tried to eliminate them, but that wasn't her only problem.  The electric walls were coming closer and if she can’t get out soon, she would most definitely die at this place.  

“Dammit.”  She panted at the never-ending onslaught of troopers, sweat gathering at her brow, and the walls just kept getting closer.  Looks like the jig was up.  This was it.  After all they’ve been through, this is where it ends.  She could only hope that Noctis could reach the Crystal, stop the darkness to come, and return home to Insomnia.  

Within her final thoughts, she thought of Noctis and heard him say her name, Claire.  

But she heard her name once more over the crackling of electricity and realized that it wasn’t in her head.  

“Claire!” Noctis appeared behind the barrier, looking panicked and in despair.  

“Light’s in trouble!” Gladio yelled, scanning the operating room for something to get her out.  

The Prince scoured the walls.  “Hang on, we’ll get you out!”

Ignis shouted.  “There ought to be a kill switch nearby - find it!”

Gladio responded, searching desperately.  “And how do you know that?”

“I believe it’s the reason we were brought here.”

“Found it!” Noctis pressed it immediately and the crackling died down.  He sighed in relief.  “Shit.  That was close.”

Lightning stumbled out of the hall and into his arms.  “How did you all get here?”

Ignis responded.  “After we were separated, we received “help” from the usual suspect.”

“That bastard’s playing with us.” Gladio growled out.  “But at least we’re together.”  

“All but one of us.” Lightning stared at the hallway, which could’ve been her place of demise.

“Claire, you alright?” Noctis asked worriedly, cupping a side of her face.  She noticed the way he held her was gentler and wondered how on Eos didn’t she know it was an imposter a while ago.

“Yeah.” She breathed and held onto his wrist.  This was him.  The real Noctis.  “I am now.”

“Reunited with your retainers at last.” The sneering voice of Ardyn echoed in the PA system.  “How very touching.”

AN: Urgh. A bit rusty, but I wanted to share my take on Chapter 13 if Lightning was part of the gang.

Totes got inspired by that cutscene when Ardyn was Noctis.  And when Noctis had that deep voice… Ohhhh babyyy...

Also, is this still Lightis LOL I gotta say though, Ardyn/Light has some good potential, especially with lore involved…

#lightis #nokurai #noctis lucis caelum #lightning farron #ardyn izunia #ffxv #ffxiii #i wrote a thing #animus #hahaha yikes #what did i do #is this lightis #evil smirk

[primasveraas-writing]

The Privilege of Love

Request: "about the finnpoe prompts... Could you write a fic about how after a very dangerous mission and Poe almost losing Finn, he (poe) asks Finn on a date and can't believe his ears when finn says yes and he flies him to some very pretty planet and have a fun, heartwarming date? Ps. I love your fics" -@buckysentbycyberlife

Thank you for the request ❤ This ended up being much angstier and much longer than anticipated, but I hope you enjoy!

NO tros spoilers included

Word count: 2075

XXX

Finn cried out in pain, and Poe fell apart.

At the least opportune moment, he lost all composure, in the middle of a firefight, a desperate, barely successful mission to pick up new allies for the Resistance. Responses to Leia’s call for help had trickled in slowly, but she seized every opportunity available to rebuild their forces. Or rather, Poe, Finn, and Rey did, at her behest.

However, these new recruits needed extraction. They were untrained and in the middle of a First Order-occupied planet, but the risk was determined to be worth it.

(“We’re sending in the calvary,” Leia had said grimly, referring to their trio. “We need everyone we can get to win this war.”)

At first, the mission had gone relatively well; they had gone undetected until their group was making its way back to the cargo ship they were using for incognito transport, and they were rapidly overcome by First Order troopers. Rey led the new forces, a scraggly group of about ten people, to safely, while Finn, Poe, and a few other ground fighters held off the endless waves of stormtroopers chasing them.

It was then when a blaster bolt struck Finn in the leg, and Poe forgot a lifetime of training.

He heard Finn’s yell, a terribly familiar thing after a decade with the Resistance- how many pilots’ dying screams had he listened to through his x-wing’s comms, how many friends had died just feet away from him- and his heart thudded to a stop in his chest. Poe’s instincts told him to keep fighting, don’t look. He had to stay alive, and that meant, sometimes, shooting first and examining the carnage later.

Finn, it seemed, was the exception.

With his blaster in one hand, Poe grabbed Finn’s arm with the other, half-carrying, half-dragging him behind the meager shelter of an abandoned speeder littering the street they had turned into a battlefield. He was trembling, he realized, as he held Finn’s face in his hands. The other man’s eyes were half shut, breaths coming in shudders. 

“Finn! Finn-” Poe pleaded, shaking his shoulders slightly. “Come on, buddy.”

Finn's eyes opened suddenly, bright with pain. They focused on his companion's, flashing with fear. “Poe- my leg. I can’t walk.”

“I’ll help you. Look, it’s gonna be alright, just stay with me and it’ll all be fine.”

But Finn shook his head, his voice growing steadier. “I’ll be too slow. You go while you still can.”

Poe stared at Finn, suddenly overtaken by the imagine of Chewbacca descending from the ramp of the Millennium Falcon, Finn limp in his arms. For the briefest of seconds, the glory of destroying Starkiller Base had been squashed entirely. If Finn was dead, then it wouldn’t have been a true victory, and he knew it then, ever after meeting Finn just two days prior. Instinctually and instantly, he understood that Finn was an instrumental part of his existence, one that would be all the lesser without him in it.

The thought had become a recent subject of his nightmares, the more and more he spent his nights falling asleep thinking about Finn.

“No. You’re coming with me.”

And before Finn could protest, Poe stood, hauling their combined weight to stand. He slung Finn’s arm around his neck, raised his blaster, and shouted for his men to cover their retreat. 

As they moved, slow and encumbered, Finn was silent, concentrating on his feet. Their journey was not gentle, bounding over rubble, almost endlessly, lengthening the frantic flee back to the safety of their ship.

They made it after an eternity, the last ones up the ramp, collapsing on the ground in an exhausted mess of limbs. Finn grunted in pain, more blaster bolts struck the side of their hull, one of his companions shouted “go, go, go!” towards the general vicinity of the cockpit, and the cargo hauler lurched into motion.

Poe untangled himself delicately from Finn, cautiously minding his wound.

“You’re gonna be okay, Finn.” The commander glanced up at his forces. “Lin, go get the medkit.”

With deliberate motion, Finn sat up, pressing his hand against his thigh. Poe, drenched in both his and Finn’s sweat, still shivered at the smell of charred flesh mingling in the air.

“Thank you,” he said. “For saving me.”

“Of course,” Poe replied instantly, with a brief smile that failed entirely to meet his eyes. “I wasn’t leaving you behind.”

The casual tone of his words sharply contrasted the intensity of his stare, an unusual seriousness tainted with something deeper that Finn couldn’t quite place. His mouth opened, question on his lips, but Lin returned with bacta patches and bandages, and the moment was lost. He was treated quickly enough, but before they could regain any semblance of privacy, Rey rushed in from the cockpit to Finn’s side, and after the latter had been made comfortable on a makeshift bed of emergency blankets, he was left to rest.

Poe watched him from across the cargo bay and wondered why he would never be able to let Finn go.

This was war. Poe had seen more death than he cared to think about, had learned to carefully navigate the line of personal investment and the very real possibility that they could all be dead tomorrow. He loved his friends, his fellow Resistance members, and unfailingly dedicated himself to the cause, but concurrently braced himself for the worst. Their own mortality confronted them in every waking second, and he was no stranger to accepting the loss of others.

Yet, despite the adaptive skill to endure endless casualties, Poe knew that if Finn of all people died, he would never recover. Maybe to the point of losing the ability to pretend that it was okay, to get out of bed and resume his responsibilities without acknowledging his own pain.

He released a long sigh, and turned away.

xxx

By the time they landed, Poe managed to justify his feelings. He would have saved any other of his friends like he did Finn, and it was only natural that he was afraid of losing someone he cared about. There was no difference between his feelings about Finn and his feelings about his other companions.

Aside, of course, from the feelings that caused him to watch Finn sleep peacefully from across the hull, studying the lines of his face, trying to memorize his every perfection in the span of their two-hour hyperspace journey.

The next afternoon, after a sleepless night and a busy morning, Poe accepted an invitation to play sabacc cards with Finn and Rey in the medbay, spending his lunch break to entertain his friend while he recovered, still constricted to bed.

“Poe. Are you okay?” Finn asked him for the second time, and Poe snapped back to reality, focusing on the cards in his hand. He supposed that this was better, to be caught lost in thought about his sabacc hand rather than anything else; just five minutes earlier, he had realized that he was staring at Finn and heat had rushed to his cheeks before he could rationalize why he was studying the corners of Finn’s mouth and the way they slyly turned up whenever he was about to smile.

No difference in feelings indeed.

“Uh- yeah. Just a long day.” He lied quickly, avoiding Finn’s eyes and flashing a tired smile, which, at the very least, was genuine. He had replayed the day before over and over again in his head, conducting fantasies both torturous and blissful. The paranoia of losing Finn made him ache, yet concurrently, he imagined a universe where he could have swept Finn off of his feet, away from danger, and kissed him senseless.

He was face-to-face with his affection now. Dismissing the truth was easier when he could turn away, ignore the thundering in his chest and put off his emotions for a day of calm that likely wouldn’t come until the war was over, whatever that meant for him.

Last night, as he tossed and turned, he realized that he had almost faced the horror of losing Finn, and barely prevented the sobs from escaping.

Both Finn and Rey were watching him carefully, mirror expressions of each other. Uncanny at times, they frequently possessed the ability to know exactly what the other was thinking, and would either act in tandem or finish each other’s thoughts accordingly.

“I’m fine, guys,” He told them, but the strain in his voice said otherwise. The pair accredited him enough to not question his words, although Finn fixed him with another concerned glance that he ignored, despite the pang that pierced his heart in doing so.

Poe tossed his losing cards on the borrowed medbay table, “I’m bombing out,” he announced in distracted defeat at the same time that Rey’s commlink buzzed and she cursed quietly under her breath. The men turned to her, and she sighed.

“The General needs me.” She stood from her chair next to the bed, then leaned down to kiss Finn’s cheek. “I’ll see you later!”

The Jedi smiled at them both, wide and earnest as always. Poe felt a pang of jealousy- not for the nature of the two’s relationship, because he did believe Finn’s assurances that they were indeed just friends- but for the ease with which Rey was able to demonstrate her bond with Finn. Force, how he wished that he could do the same, or even define their bond to begin with.

“You aren’t acting weird because of yesterday, are you? I know I shouldn’t have gotten injured, but I was covering for someone and-”

Holding up his hand, Poe cut him off. “No, no, that’s not it. I’m fine, really, buddy. Just glad you’re okay.”

“You know I don’t believe you, right?” Finn demanded, and Poe barely choked back a stranged laugh at his persistence. 

“I do. I do trust that you don’t believe me, but this doesn’t really change much for me.”

“Why not?” He pestered. “Look, I don’t know what’s happened in the last day, but you can tell me.” He sat up straight in bed, pushing himself up with his arms. “Things went wrong yesterday. I’m sorry you had to worry about rescuing me too.”

The words hadn’t fully left his lips before Poe was shaking his head. “Don’t blame yourself, Finn. There was a lot going on in that battle.”

Nonetheless, Finn’s eyes met his, relentless. "Thank you for saving my life," he told him somberly.

Poe melted in his brown eyes instantly, worries of staidness aside. "Of course. It's what we do around here."

The steady gaze between them lingered far too long to be considered casual. For a split second, Poe broke his stare, eyes flitting to Finn's lips.

"Actually I- I really care about you Finn. I don't ever want something bad to happen to you."

The other man recoiled slightly, surprised. "That's hard to guarantee in this line of work, isn't it?"

The deep, forbidden longing arose in Poe, like an uncontrollable wave, washing over every fiber of his being. Finn was right: it was too dangerous to care, too dangerous to promise any semblance of safety, and most of all, too dangerous to love without being hurt.

It was too late for some of those things now. Poe's love expanded beyond him, into the darkest confines of the universe, pushing out his fear and inhibitions and will to stay stoic. He could die tomorrow, and it would never matter to the First Order or anyone else in the galaxy if he loved Finn openly and freely. Their bond was theirs, their love and affection and burden all the same.

He answered Finn carefully, "You know, it is. But some things are beyond my control."

Nodding silently, Finn seemed to understand. Then, a hand slid into his own and squeezed. Poe's heart skipped a beat and out of his chest.

"There's a place I know," he began, deliberately slowing his words. He felt that his happiness, if unchecked, could lead to a mess of rushed words and sentiments that he would never be able to fathom into sense. "just over the hill on the side of the base. If you're interested, I'd like to show you sometime. It's-" he was breathless suddenly and inexplicabably. Perhaps it was Finn, subconsciously leaning towards him or the glimmer of understanding that flashed across his face, "-it's lovely."

Another squeeze. "That sounds perfect."

#finnpoe #finn x poe #stormpilot #finnpoe fanfic #star wars #stormpilot fanfic #tros #stormpilot imagine #poe dameron #poefinn #finn #the rise of skywalker #finnpoe imagine #star wars imagine #star wars fanfic

[weirdsciencecomics]

Writer: Clay McLeod Chapman Artists: Chris Mooneyham & Garry Brown Colors: Rain Beredo Letterer: VC’s Cory Petit

Release date January 29 2020 Review by D. Brown (WolfCypher)

Andi Benton is attracting dangerous symbiote sea-creatures and corpses wherever she goes, jeopardizing unintended civilians around her. Knowing that these attacks will never stop, she heads into the deep of the New York Harbor in pursuit of her attacker. Bringing the fight to whoever they may be, she encounters a creature, “Mother”, who wants the Scream symbiote to serve as a surrogate daughter. Andi’s life, however, means nothing to Mother, and she wants to steal away with the Scream symbiote before Knull arrives (read Donny Cates’ Venom) and annihilates all life on Earth.

So, we finally have the full motivations behind these mysterious attacks on Andi. Not to say its been a long build-up. Clay McLeod Chapman gave us readers a fair amount of the plot to accurately guess where things were going, and issue 3 just hammers that nail on the head. Chapman has so far done no wrong with the character of Scream, and that streak continues unbroken with our third chapter of this arc. Andi has quickly come around to the physical presence of her new unwanted symbiote. In fact, before this book ends, Andi seems to be starkly dependent on its presence, and not just for the sake of her own survival. We have here an issue where Andi and the Scream symbiote share a inner-dialogue conversation about her childhood as they give chase into the deep waters of the New York Bay. The conversing between the two, host and alien, seem to imply that Andi has either warmed up to the symbiote, or she’s realized that considering the threats coming after them, she has to put her anger and self-pitying aside and maintain a mutual symbiosis with the Venom symbiote’s spawn. But lets explore the nature of their conversation, one where the topic of Andi’s mother comes up. There is definitely a theme here, with the Scream symbiote asking about Andi’s mother and Andi sharing a story about her so freely. Then there’s the antagonist here is, referred to as Mother, and the implications of the opening pages within this book (NOT a spoiler if you’ve seen the preview pages), an opening sequence that shows us a fight long, long ago between Thor and the “symbiote dragon” Grendal. In the tales of Beowulf, Grendal and its mother were principle villains. Is it safe to assume the “Mother” attacking Scream is “Grendal’s Mother”? What Donny Cates started in his Venom run alllll the way back in the very first arc, Chapman continues to explore, tying in more Beowulf lure into the history of the symbiote race.

And can I say how much I love Chris Mooneyham’s Grendal? We’ve seen this dragon several times in other Venom stories since the Cates run began, but its appearance here is definitely my fave. I’ll continue to state that Mooneyham was the right choice to draw this gritty book. We get a chance to see Scream take on a new form once she submerges into the bay, and it gives Mooneyham a chance to draw our heroine with new, exaggerated figures…maybe we’ll get an action figure of this form on day…If you read Absolute Carnage (or its dozens of tie-in comics) and enjoyed the moments of horror Stegman’s art provided (that sounds like I’m saying Stegman’s art was horrific…obviously I mean the tone and dark mood his visual provided), then I’d say Mooneyham carries that thematic into this spin-off title perfectly. Finally, I won’t deny Garry Brown his credit. Any time I can read a book with multiple artists, and I don’t even notice the discrepancy between the two artists, I don’t even realize I’ve hit the point in the book where the art temporarily shifts, all parties are doing a good job! Honestly, I am very happy with this art team!

Final Thoughts

Scream: Curse of Carnage is both an entertaining follow-up to Absolute Carnage and addendum for Venom. It manages to tell its own story while still staying within the circle of stories, developments, and twists that the two aforementioned books have set up. This issue suggests that Andi’s past life and familial longing are going to continue to get put into play as this story rolls on. At least I hope so. Between little teases of Andi’s life before becoming Scream (or Mania or Hell-powered…) and her changing relationship with the Scream symbiote, and the menace of Mother and her kin, this reader is still singing this book’s praises!

8.5/10

Scream: Curse of Carnage #3 Review Writer: Clay McLeod Chapman Artists: Chris Mooneyham & Garry Brown Colors: Rain Beredo Letterer: VC's Cory Petit…