#this is devastating why was this so devastating

[sparring-spirals]

Still emotional about Fy'ra Rai and Opal, actually. Thought dump time bc i. dont have the energy to cut this down effectively.

Because at that point in the episode, Opal is doomed. Not in the fun little "oh things are getting worse ;)" kind of way we'd been experiencing leading up to the fight, or even IN the fight. At that point in the fight, Cyrus is dead. Dorian and Dariax have their minds twisted, bodies clambering away from the fight. Morrighan has felt, firsthand, just how far gone Opal is, holes in her mind, her friend broken. The heartbreaking sentence of. "You can always come back." understands that she is gone already. She's lost already. Opal has forgotten Ted. Opal has forgotten herself.

So at that point in the fight, we know Opal is doomed. Us as the audience, the cast, the characters. Aabria is running through each of the other crownkeepers and it is more of a goodbye than a round of combat. Defying the Spider Queen invites death, with zero hesitation- Cyrus's body as physical evidence of that. The terms were very clearly set: You leave Opal, you let her be lost. Or you die. (Leaving Opal anyway).

and Fy'ra Rai then. Grasps the crown, understands intimately that she can break it off and it will kill Opal. (I will free you, if you want me to. We would lose you but you would not be taken). And asks, what do you want me to do. What do you want.

and Opal says, I want you to leave. (I want you to live.) and Fy'ra Rai functionally says. No. Sorry. That's not one of the options.

If you wanted to go. I will do that (your blood on my hands). If you want me to stay, I will. But I'm not going to leave you.

There was the point where Fy'ra Rai broke into the communication and I felt my insides sink because. Look. Lets be real, Aabria had already demonstrated the stakes here. The gesture would not be rewarded for the gesture alone. The Spider Queen's terms were: You leave Opal. Or you die.

And Fy'ra Rai said: no.

I don't think I'm overstepping to assume that if Fy'ra Rai had failed the intimidation check, she would have died. This entire thing hits me so hard because I think Anjali knew that too. I think Fy'ra Rai knew that too. Yes, Fy'ra Rai convinced a Betrayer God to negotiate. She carved a third option out of a non-negotiable situation. She knew what would happen if she failed and did it anyway, with no fear, no regret, no waver in her resolve. She had lost enough sisters. She wasn't going to lose anymore, no matter the personal cost. That's part of why it succeeded, I'm sure, but.

Just. Fuck me. The amount of resolve. The amount of love. The amount of conviction. "I am. A protector." You know your friend- your sister- is doomed. So no more negotiating away from that. You step to her side and you grasp your hand and say- doom me with her.

And in some, sideways way, this saves you both, at least for a little while.

Because this story is a tragedy. This ending is a sad one. We know this already. But think about- Opal, under Lolth's bidding, alone in the dark. Think about Fy'ra Rai, alive, intimately aware that she had failed to protect yet another sister.

And think about what we got, instead: the two of them, in deep darkness, danger encroaching- holding hands. Someone they love at their side. A champion. And her champion.

This is still a sad story. But it's not the same one. Fy'ra Rai stared down a Betrayer God and made her change her mind. She stared down a Betrayer God, and her love and conviction changed the nature of the story. It shouldn't have been able to. But she did.

Fy'ra Rai chose to doom 2 people instead of one, and the sheer strength of her love and will managed to save them both, at least for a little while. Isn't it funny how that works? Isn't it devastating? Isn't it. fucking incredible?

#critical role #cr spoilers #c3e93 #opal #EVERYONE CLAP FOR AABRIA AND ANJALI AND AIMEE BC I GO MORE FERAL THE LONGER I THINK ABOUT IT #character meta #fy'ra rai #fy'ra rai meta #opal meta #spar speaks #i had to get this out bc i cant Stop Thinking About it.... god..... she really Did That... #its not just about refusing to leave its understanding the consequence and facing it so unflinchingly that the narrative flinches first #UAHHHGGHH. #anjali bhimani do you know how much i respect you for this move. aabria iyengar do you know how much i respect you for setting up the stake #so clearly that this success(?) Hit the way it did. Aimee carrero do you know how much i respect you for how truly and devastatingly #you played opal while keeping the core of her character so poignant. #what the fucmkc. anyway im fine . #anyway this is why a lot of my devastated wailing is going to be reserved for dariax. and dorian. and cyrus. #my meta #FORGOT. I HAD THAT TAG. gotta go back and retag

[jwnstars]

제이! boyfie! jay x reader 🗒️ synopsis boyfriend jay plays with your hair and cuddling you because you cried until you felt safe and went back to sleep. warning. very sad and short :,(

# (separation anxiety at its finest.)

“I’m back home pretty, let me see your gorgeous face.” your boyfriend, jay, was busy today. he left early, and to your surprise, he came back home late. and your separation anxiety definitely did not help. you found nights without jay empty, not just because you were alone, but you felt empty when your other half wasn’t in sight. “love?” jay called out to you, but you didn’t reply as he was still looking for you.

he would expect you to be in YOUR spot on the big couch you guys shared, laying down while eating your favorite ice cream tub, watching the kdrama you wait weeks for a new episode. but no, it seemed like tonight was different. it was like you didn’t wait for jay. and that was rare, because jay knew how much you would miss him at night so that’s why he would try to come home as fast as possible to kiss you and cuddle you endlessly.

jay quietly strolled to your guy’s room, peeping through the gap in the door and to his expectation, you were curled up into a ball. covered by the comforter that barely even covered anything, seeming like you were cold.

jay smirked, he found you cute. he thought, maybe, you just went to sleep because you were exhausted and tired. so you just gave in and went to bed, “even when your snoring, your gorgeous.” he giggled, getting on the bed slowly approaching you. he intended to kiss you on the lips and express his love, however; with his sharp hearing, he heard your sniffling. hiccups. he was a tad bit stunned, he didn’t know how to react if you were crying. “oh my baby.. look at me.” he said so.. so soft. so gentle. with all the care he could ever use.

you slowly turned to him, revealing your red puffy eyes. you cried, it devastated him. “my poor baby, why are you crying? you shouldn’t cry.” he cupped your face, bringing you closer to his face. “I’m hideous right now, jay. I just cried, so I don’t look my best.” you looked down and frowned, a bit embarrassed. “hideous? fuck, love. never call yourself that. that shouldn’t even be in your vocabulary. your crying over here, but all I can think of right now is how your so pretty when you cry.”

“now come over here, I’ll show you how much I care.” jay opened his arms and you immediately came to him, engulfing into his warm presence. he held you, so close. as if you guys were interlinked. jay didn’t want you to cry, he wanted you to know he loved you.

“oh baby don’t cry.. your too precious.” he wiped your tears, looking at you with so much love. you were rested on his chest, and he softly and slowly rubbing your back, his lips were near your ears, and when his voice touched your ears, it felt warm and tingly.

jay started playing with your hair, removing the hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. “don’t cry anymore. I’m here.”

“pretty, pretty girl.”

@ jwnstars !! sigh. why isn’t he my bf.

I FORGOT TO POST/PUBLISH THIS. this has been sitting in my drafts unfinished. I feel like this is one of my most detailed works bc I fricking suck lmao 😿🎀

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagine #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen fan fiction #enhypen drabbles #jay enhypen x you #jay enhypen x y/n #jay enha #jay enhypen x reader #jay x reader #jay enhypen #enhypen jay #jay park au #jay park #jay enhypen drabble #jay drabbles

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Hi I see your requests are open (btw love ur blog) could I possibly request Rook, Idia, Azul, and Floyd falling for the “my boyfriend left you can come over” text prank? Pls pls pls 🥺

Azul Ashengrotto:

Not that it’s a great prank to play on anyone, but Azul who is already riddled with trust issues would especially not appreciate it. He doesn’t address it immediately but it’s due to his internal panic over the situation, thinking you wouldn’t be so stupid as to text him something meant for another person and that if you had, you would’ve tried to cover for yourself at least. But there’s always a part of his brain that’s ready for disaster, that activates the second something potentially devastating lined itself up to happen and it completely throws Azul off his normal logical conclusions. You do notice he’s a little more emotional than normal, getting snippy with you and refusing to look at you; it doesn’t get better when you tell him it was just a prank, wondering why you had entirely ruined his day just to get a laugh.

Idia Shroud:

Can one person be double cursed? Because Idia felt double cursed. He stared at the text, trying to pick it apart, analyze different meanings, figure out what you were trying to actually say but was instead autocorrected to this extremely unsettling text. His logic skill wasn’t high enough to figure out this minigame and he almost texted you to ask what you meant but paused, realizing his social skill wasn’t high enough for him to send one out about the topic of you potentially cheating on him. He would normally torture newbies online to get out his feelings but he doesn’t feel like doing much of anything, sitting with his knees brought up to his chest and lamenting his inability to recognize that your relationship points had fallen so low. There’s relief that comes with knowing it was just a prank, proven by Ortho doing a quick internet search, but you see the tiniest tinge of red flutter through his hair even as he tells you he’s fine.

Floyd Leech:

Floyd had never whipped around so quick in his entire life, kicking the door to your room in and glaring at you with a knowing look. You’re unable to stop your giggling though some of it might be from nerves, as dealing with a grumpy eel was never the most fun. He whined at you for trying to play a mean trick on him, asking if you wanted to be squeezed that bad; you knew exactly what he was like when he was jealous and you couldn’t help but want to see a little more. There weren’t many people stupid enough to flirt with you when they knew who you were dating so you had to make your own fun, but having Floyd wrapped around you and refusing to leave your side until this potential ‘other person’ showed up was making you think twice about any future pranks.

Rook Hunt:

Rook doesn’t fall for it. He knows you’re just teasing in your normal playful way, trying to pull a reaction out of him which made him chuckle. You kept his daily life interesting so he couldn’t take your little prank personally, but he knew you inside and out. He would hold your face with his hand, delicately caressing your skin as he talked about your scent, one that he had memorized as he held you close each night. The only man he had ever smelled on you was himself, and since he didn’t pick up on anything unfamiliar, he concluded right in front of you that you couldn’t possibly be cheating on him. He pressed his nose into your neck, whispering against your skin that if you didn’t want him to go you just had to say as such.  

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Floyd Leech #Rook Hunt #Azul Ashengrotto #Idia Shroud #Floyd Leech x Reader #Rook Hunt x Reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #idia shroud x reader

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (28)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: mention of masturbation, public dirty talk, sexual tension, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Even though he had expected nothing else, his wife's reaction completely devastated him anyway − her words cut through him like daggers, showing him his own face in the light of the truth.

What should I do now?

Divorce you?

Not speak to you for eight years?

He didn't know what he should answer.

The realisation that he was constantly searching for fault in her because he felt guilty himself, that he was accusing her of betrayal because he had betrayed her himself, caused him to no longer know who he was anymore. He felt so lost and heartbroken that he had simply burst out crying in front of her like a child scolded by a parent.

He just wanted her to forgive him.

When she told him what Alys had seen in her dream and informed him of her conditions, even though he was dying at the thought of spending even one more day in this fortress, he sat down at her oak desk the next morning to write a letter to his brother-king.

My King, our half-sister has agreed to our terms, however, she makes her own demands. I have decided, in order to alleviate the situation, to travel with my wife to Dragonstone, where we are currently staying. We want to try to convince them to change their minds − one order from you is enough for me to return to King's Landing. Your loyal brother

His niece was furious with him − he had never seen her like this before and preferred not to address her at all when she spoke to him knowing that he would only make matters worse. He hoped that his conciliatory attitude and the fact that he had fulfilled her wish would make her calm down.

The thought that he wasn't her prisoner didn't comfort him, because he felt like one anyway.

Wherever he went he might encounter someone he didn't feel like looking at, so he preferred to stay in her chamber and bear it somehow.

As soon as she had left her quarters he rose from his chair and began to walk around her room, looking at the various objects on the shelves and bookcases − he looked through the books she was reading, finding with satisfaction that most of them were also in his possession in King's Landing.

He spotted her embroideries in one of the drawers, including those he remembered well from his childhood, and smiled involuntarily at the thought, wondering if she had kept them for the sake of memories.

He shuddered as the door to the chamber opened suddenly and he slid the drawer back in, turning with a rapidly beating heart − Daemon stood with his hands folded behind him, sighing heavily.

"− come, nephew − we must discuss many important matters −" He said with a kind of boredom, as if what he was speaking of was a duty he had no desire to perform at all.

"− I will not go anywhere with you, uncle − I am quite comfortable here −" He said lowly, looking away, frustrated.

Why did he always feel like a little child in his presence?

Daemon chuckled at his question.

"− it wasn't a request − come, let's have a walk −" He encouraged him in a ferocious, mocking tone from which he felt rage and a clench in his stomach.

He knew he couldn't refuse.

Daemon led him out of the fortress through one of the side entrances − he checked a few times before the sound of the sea surrounded them that the dagger he always carried with him was strapped to his belt.

They stepped out onto a gigantic white beach seeming to stretch on endlessly to him, with only the water to their left and high rising rocks and mountains to their right.

They were completely alone.

His uncle finally stopped and turned to him, looking at him for a moment without a word.

"− why did you suggest you spend the night in Dragonstone? −"

He licked his lips, feeling his heart stop at his question.

"− that was her wish −"

"− don't fucking lie to me or I will pierce your skull with my sword −"

He looked at him in disbelief, his jaw clenched so tight he felt like it was going to burst, his fingers involuntarily tightening into fists.

Silence fell again, the sound of the waves around them, their hair and tunics blowing in the wind.

It seemed to him that his uncle's gaze was piercing him to the core.

"− Larys Strong had his own plans for you − I couldn't let that happen −" He muttered at last.

"− does she know about this? −" He asked coldly.

He swallowed hard at the thought that he was referring to his wife.

"− yes −"

"− did you tell her before or after we came here? −"

He lowered his gaze already knowing what he was leading up to, he felt like his whole body was quivering.

"− after −"

Daemon snorted in annoyance, shaking his head as he looked out at the sea stretching before them.

"− you fucking cunt − I was supposed to personally deal with his rats overdue in the Eyrie, but you ruined my plan − though surely that's good for you −" He confessed looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

He felt a powerful, cold shiver run along his back at the thought that he knew everything.

He knew that they were about to be murdered.

And Rheanyra?

Seeing that he couldn't force out the question that was pressing on his lips his uncle laughed out loud.

"− the rider of the world's greatest dragon since Balerion's passing is unable to get a word out − shame has taken away your speech? − where is your pride that you always boasted so much? −" He continued, provoking him to explode, his heart pounding like mad.

What should he do?

How should he behave?

"− you are exactly as I assumed − you are still a boy who has lost an eye and who is waiting for his betrothed to come to comfort him − you are like a stone, unable to move on − my daughter has sacrificed everything for you, and you stand before me like some fool −"

"− what do you want from me, uncle? −"

"− no − what do YOU want − are you able to name it in your head, or are you like a child in a fog without your mother? −" He asked in a raised voice, frustrated, making him feel a hot wave of humiliation flowing through his body.

"− I want her to be safe −"

"− what happened in King's Landing? −"

"− I −"

"− fucking speak − and you'd better say the truth −"

"− your spies in the Red Keep didn't report it to you? −" He hissed, his uncle taking a step towards him, looking him straight in the eye.

"− you're trying my patience −"

He pressed his lips together feeling his heart rise to his throat, cold sweat running down his back.

"− my mother gave her moon tea without my knowledge − she wanted to be able to pact with you and give her to Lord Arryn's son −" He said dispassionately feeling, however, that his voice trembled. Daemon looked at him wordlessly.

"− and what have you done to punish those who wronged my daughter, and your wife? −"

He looked at him feeling his whole body freeze.

"− what would you have done to her if she had been the one to fail your trust? − if she tried to fight for her freedom, if she stood up to you and threatened your mother? −" He asked, stabbing his words into him like daggers .

He didn't know the answers to these questions.

He never wanted to ask himself them.

"− I did everything I could − she is my mother − you would expect the same from your daughter yourself −"

"− and yet she was the one who came to beg her own mother to surrender her claim to the crown when yours was encouraging your brother to steal the throne that never belonged to him − gods, Viserys has taught you nothing, has he? − you see nothing but your mother's skirt to which you have always been clung −" He muttered with some kind of disgust from which he felt a cold, unpleasant shiver and discomfort in his stomach.

"− I regret − I regret that, seeing this, seeing Viserys fail you, seeing Otto make you his pawn, I was not a fatherly figure for you to follow − I did not, though it was my duty −"

He looked at him in disbelief, feeling with horror the burning under his eyelids. He laughed and shook his head, wishing he could somehow control what was happening to him − he hid his hands behind his back feeling how much they were trembling.

"− are you remorseful, uncle? − do you see that you yourself also contributed to the division of our family into two separate parts? −" He asked with mockery and regret in his voice feeling that he was weak.

What had happened in the last few days had completely destroyed him.

"− I want to hear the truth and I will ask for the last time − what do you want? −" His uncle asked with emphasis on the last sentence.

He shuddered, realising that deep down he knew what the answer was.

He always knew.

"− I wish it was all over − I wish I could take her to Essos, as I promised her − I am tired, uncle − I have been tired all my life − I only rest when she is by my side −"

Daemon looked at him for a long moment and let out a loud breath, looking out to sea. They stood like that, not speaking to each other.

"− is there anything else you have hidden from her? −" He asked coldly, and he felt a squeeze in his throat at the memory of the Witch of Harrenhal's words.

You will betray her at the moment she trusts you the most.

You will achieve victory, but she will never let you touch herself again.

You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death.

He raised his eyes to his uncle and met his gaze, proud and distrustful, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"− I −"

"− speak −"

"− there is − there is a woman in Harrenhal, called by some a witch − she came to me last morning and −"

"− did you take her to your bed? −"

His voice stuck in his throat at his question, so he shook his head quickly, horrified.

"− no, but she said − she prophesied to me that this would happen − that − that I would put my child inside her −" He muttered, feeling with what difficulty those words left his mouth. Daemon raised his eyebrows in disbelief and rolled his eyes.

"− and? − if she said so, now there's nothing left for you to do but put your cock inside her? − don't make me laugh −" He sneered, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"− she can predict the future − I −"

"− are you listening to me, or have you not only gone blind but deaf? − if she told you that you would run away with her to Essos and beget twenty children with her would you believe her too? − she told you exactly what she wanted to happen − she hopes to still use you in the future by doing so, and you reflecting on her words are doing exactly what she wants − I don't know any man who would put his cock into a woman by accident or by fate − pull yourself together −" He said impatiently, causing a warm wave of embarrassment to surge through him.

He thought he really was a fool.

How could he have believed her with such ease?

Though he didn't want to admit it to himself, his words brought him relief.

"− do you have anything else to convey to me? − this is your last chance −" He asked coldly, and he shook his head.

"− very well − I'm glad we've got it behind us − you may leave −" He said dryly; he pressed his lips together at his words and simply walked away, swallowing his dignity and pride.

As he stepped into his wife's chamber he noticed her seated figure out of the corner of his eye, but he did not say a word to her − he felt humiliated and tired and did not feel like making conversation.

He also recognised that she certainly still hadn't forgiven him, so they might as well keep quiet.

He therefore sat down with one of her books by the fire, trying to concentrate on what he saw before him and not on his uncle's words.

I regret that, seeing this, seeing Viserys fail you, seeing Otto make you his pawn, I was not a fatherly figure for you to follow.

Though some part of him did not want to admit it, he knew that subconsciously he had been waiting for those words, for any praise or appreciation from him, the Rouge Prince himself, the greatest warrior and dragon rider he had seen in his lifetime.

So why did he feel so bad about what he had said to him?

You are still a boy who has lost an eye and who is waiting for his betrothed to come to comfort him.

My daughter has sacrificed everything for you, and you stand before me like some fool.

He swallowed hard, knowing that there was partly truth in his words.

For some reason though he wanted to, he couldn't completely free himself from the past and move on.

"− Jace kissed me − on the lips −"

He lifted his gaze to her from his book thinking he had overheard himself. He felt a wave of anger and disbelief surge through his body when he noticed in her gaze that she wasn't mocking him.

She meant it.

"− he did WHAT? −" He growled, getting up from his seat, throwing his book on the table and leaving immediately thinking he was going to kill this fucking bastard with his own hands.

When he finally walked into the right chamber he breathed heavily and grinned, feeling as if all the frustration, the things that had been happening to him after his conversation with his wife and uncle were going to find release at this very moment.

Jace stood up from his chair, pale at the sight of him, clearly knowing exactly what awaited him.

"− haven't you learned yet not to take what's not yours? − hm? −" He murmured teasingly, feeling the presence of his niece beside him, the scent of vanilla filling his lungs again.

"− Aemond −"

"− your sister when we were children told me that she never desired you as a man − she knew even then that you were a cunt −" He sneered, cocking his head to the side, resting his weight on his right leg, watching curiously as his nephew turned all red with embarrassment.

"− Aemond, that's enough −"

"− how dare you? − you are a guest under our roof − get out −" Baela growled, his smile widening even more at the sight of her, her lips tightening into a thin line.

He thought he would love to hit her in the face again before he remembered that she was a woman.

What a pity.

His wife appeared suddenly in front of him, looking at him warningly.

"− we are leaving −"

He felt like laughing at her words.

Her brothers were getting away with far too many things.

"− no − I'm speaking with my nephew −" He said sweetly, looking his nephew straight in the eye thinking with amusement that this time would be different.

"− we are leaving, uncle, or I swear I will never return with you to King's Landing −"

"− so I'll stay here with you − Jace as ruler of Dragonstone will surely be delighted to host us, won't he? − he seems to have a weakness for you, sweet wife −" He muttered in a voice filled with challenge and poison seeing that Baela looked at her betrothed in disbelief.

Always pretending to be so righteous, so wronged.

He was nothing more than a pathetic brat who was once again reaching for what didn't belong to him.

"− Jace, say something at last! −" Baela thundered, clearly wanting Jace to stop being a scared cunt, which unfortunately he was unable to do.

He could feel his own heart pounding fast, his hands clenched into fists, his breathing quick and deep.

He was ready to attack him, he was ready to rip him to shreds.

Some part of him wanted to do it.

A fucking would-be King.

You'll never sit on the throne − he thought with satisfaction − and in my wife's eyes you were never a man she could desire.

"− I made a mistake − I shouldn't have done it, forgive me − I −" He mumbled in horror as he looked at his niece with pleading eyes.

Did he really think that he would let him hide behind her skirt like a coward?

That he would allow him to escape the consequences of his foolishness again?

"− you made a mistake? − I seem to be able to understand the feeling − I have made a similar one many times, as well as others, even worse ones −" He hissed grabbing her cheeks, heard her draw in a loud breath, shocked, as his lips pressed against hers in a hot, aggressive kiss − she moaned quietly as his slick tongue forced its way deep into her throat with his low sigh of delight.

He pulled away and met her simultaneously terrified, enraged and thirsty gaze − she only mewled when he turned her with a confident tug with her back against him and pressed her figure against his chest, gripping her neck with one hand, the other sliding down her lower abdomen.

He involuntarily licked his lower lip when he felt her fingers tighten on his wrist trying to stop him from doing what he wanted to do, her mouth parted in disbelief.

"− so beautiful, isn't she, nephew? − I couldn't help myself either − I can't count how many times I took her − how many times I have filled her with my seed − right here −" He breathed out, not really understanding himself what he was actually doing, focusing more on her than on them as he dug his fingertips into her womanhood lying beneath the material of her gown.

Her head was tilted back, her thighs clenched, her lips struggling to hold back the moan from which his erection slapped impatiently against her buttocks in his breeches.

He thought he will fuck her with his fingers in front of his eyes.

"− u-uncle − stop −"

In fact, he had to stop when Daemon walked into the chamber − the ashamed, horrified expression on Jace's face who couldn't even look at them and the accusing look his betrothed turned towards him was reward enough for him.

He wanted to watch his world, everything he desired burn and fall apart in his hands.

He wanted him to know what it felt like.

He knew his wife enough to know that her rage was mixed halfway with the desire and tension he himself felt. He wanted to respect her request not to take her and break it at the same time, feeling that he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, so he did something that stopped halfway between both, coming with a sigh of relief on the material of her nightgown when he heard her moans of sweet fulfilment.

He wanted nothing more after this than to lock her in his arms and fall asleep.

"− let me embrace you −" He muttered.

"− no −" Her frustrated, trembling voice answered him.

He huffed loudly, heartbroken, at the same time understanding her and longing to take refuge again in the warmth that the closeness of her body gave him. In a gesture of desperation, he simply pressed his face against her neck, taking in her scent.

"− move away, uncle −"

"− I inhale the wonderful scent of vanilla after having experienced fulfilment with my wife −"

"− your wife does not wish for this −"

"− sleep −"

He heard her sigh heavily, annoyed, but said nothing more. When he finally felt she had fallen asleep, his hand slowly touched her waist and slid to other side, taking its place on her warm lower abdomen.

"− no −" He heard her quiet, unclear mumble, her body stirring in his embrace.

"− shhh − let me −" He whispered in her ear, his lips placing a soft, warm kiss on her cheek.

"− mhm −" She muttered, twisting towards him immersed in a deep sleep − he sighed heavily as her body involuntarily clung to his, her face sinking into the hollow of his neck.

He swallowed hard, feeling the squeeze in his heart and the tears under his eyelids that, one by one, began to run down his cheeks as his hands wove through her hair and the material of her nightgown at her back, pressing her close to his body.

He thought that for some reason during the nights he spent with her he was most vulnerable and weak, her presence, the warmth of her flesh, her closeness made him feel as if something was melting inside him, not allowing him to pretend that Daemon's words had not hurt him.

Despite repeating to himself that his uncle's words meant nothing to him, as a child he had looked up to him, dreaming of being like him − fearless, ironic, intelligent, confident, proud of his family and his heritage.

I regret that, seeing this, seeing Viserys fail you, seeing Otto make you his pawn, I was not a fatherly figure for you to follow.

He pressed his lips together at that thought, at his words, which cut into his heart like a sword, because although he had tried to find his pattern of masculinity in his father, in his older brother, in his grandfather, in Ser Criston, it was his uncle that his gaze had always followed, it was his uncle's reaction that he looked at when he and his father watched them duel.

He never heard a single warm word from his lips.

The fact that he was his mother's son had crossed him out in his eyes, and he had no intention of apologising for anything.

So what was he to do with his words?

That he did not know − nor did he know what purpose the conversation had served or why he had told him about the Witch of Harrenhal. He thought with shame that guilt and fear had crushed him so much that he had to get it off his chest, and he had chosen the worst person to do so.

What if he uses this against him?

Poison his daughter's thoughts with words that her husband feared that he would betray her in the future, beget a bastard child with another woman?

He felt a cold shudder run through his body at the thought, but for some reason he had a feeling that this would not happen.

She told you exactly what she wanted to happen.

She hopes to still use you in the future by doing so, and you reflecting on her words are doing exactly what she wants.

He was right.

This woman, whoever she was, was playing with him and his wife.

He thought she was hoping to frighten them both and lead them to lose trust in each other.

That this was perhaps also part of Larys' plan.

He had no intention of killing his wife.

He wanted her to do it herself.

That thought, that realisation flashed through his body like a flame, his fingers clamped down on her flesh as he swallowed hard, feeling some kind of indescribable relief, finding meaning in it at last.

They knew that if his wife disappeared, he would join the war.

He sighed quietly, thinking with surprising calmness in his soul, stroking his wife's soft, dark curls with his fingers, that he would cut off the heads of all the vipers plotting against her, one by one.

He intended to personally inform his brother what their grandfather and Lord Strong were planning to do behind his back.

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond smut #aemond angst #aemond tagaryen smut #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell fic #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell angst #aemond fandom #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen angst #canon aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x female #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #aemond x wife #aemond x niece #aemond x strong niece #hotd fanfic #hotd fandom #hotd fanfiction #hotd fic #hotd smut #hotd angst

[ckret2]

Chapter 50 of by this point human Bill Cipher is almost relieved to be imprisoned in the Mystery Shack again: Bill tells Mabel about his adventures, and Ford and Dipper tell Fiddleford about theirs.

But first Bill's gonna die for a bit.

"Guys! You're okay!" Mabel flung her arms around Dipper and squeezed him. "We were worried you were floating around and broke your legs when the gravity came back."

"N—no, we were fine," Dipper said. 

Mabel let go of Dipper to hug Ford next—and then drew back, looked him up and down, and looked at Bill. "What happened to your clothes?"

Bill said, "We fell in the lake."

"Ha!"

"Tate was kind enough to loan us dry clothes," Ford said.

"You look like big dorks." She turned to Bill last, took in his dirty haggard appearance, and said, "And you look awful. Where have you guys been the last two days?"

"Thanks for asking! I've been in..." Bill glanced at Stan. "Am I allowed to say the name of the place I've been?"

Stan shook his head. "Not in front of the kids, you don't."

Bill sighed. "Agony. I've been in agony."

"Aww!" She hugged Bill last. "I like your stupid Fishmas sweater."

"Consider it yours as soon as I can change." He wriggled out of her embrace to point at his feet. "Check out the shoes, though!"

Mabel cracked up. "Omigosh, fish slippers! Fi— Fishlers? Fishppers?"

"Fishoes?"

"Fishoes!"

Soos said, "What did happen out there?" He was in the kitchen, cleaning and reorganizing after zero gravity had tossed everything out of order. "Did you heroically save Gravity Falls from imminent multidimensional devastation?"

Ford said, "No. Aside from the effects on gravity, it... turned out to be a benign phenomenon."

"Oh," Soos said. "Like... what Bill said?"

Ford grimaced. He managed to just nod instead of saying afraid so.

Again, he expected Bill to gloat; again, Bill said nothing. He didn't even look at Ford.

"It wasn't an eclipse, though," Dipper muttered, shooting a dark look at Bill. "It would've been an eclipse if it had gotten between us and gravity. It was basically the opposite."

"What do you want from me." The question was more sighed than spoken. "It was called an eclipse when I was growing up, I dunno what to tell you."

Ford, Dipper, and Mabel all looked straight at Bill at the mention of his childhood; but he didn't say anything more. He just trudged to the kitchen and leaned tiredly on the doorframe, watching Soos work. "Grab me something from the fridge."

"Sure thing, dawg." Soos opened the door. "What do you want?"

Bill was silent for a moment. Slowly, like a spirit medium channeling a faint message from the other side, he said, "I think... the body wants a vegetable. Gimme some guacamole."

"Sorry, dude, we had the last of it with dinner."

"Fine. Just give me an avocado and salsa, I'll make do."

"You got it."

"Two avocados."

Soos started rummaging through the jumbled mess in the fridge. "So if everything was okay, what took you guys so long to get back?"

"Yeah, I've been wanting to ask," Stan said. (He hadn't been able to in the car; when everyone realized Bill had passed out as soon as he'd sat down, they'd fallen into an awkward silence.) "Was the demon making trouble or what?"

Dipper and Ford exchanged a glance; who wanted to share the embarrassing news? Ford said, "Actually, under the circumstances, he was... well behaved." Ford resisted the urge to add the modifier "tolerably." It seemed mean-spirited. Bill had constantly complained, sure, but in retrospect could Ford say the complaints were unjustified?

"Then what took you so long?"

Now Ford felt Bill's gaze on him, watching him sharply. Ford understood now. This was why Bill hadn't mentioned saving them. He was holding it in reserve—offering a deal. If Ford and Dipper didn't embarrass him, he wouldn't embarrass them. If they mentioned his breakdown, he could cut in, claim it was natural for him to be in shock after performing such a difficult, heroic deed.

It wasn't blackmail, per se. Revealing the truth wouldn't cost anybody anything but a bit of momentary self-consciousness. But wasn't that just like Bill—only passing up an opportunity to boast so he could use it to shield his ego.

"It was Bill's fault," Dipper said quickly. Ford's heart leaped into his throat. "Because—we had to climb up and down the tunnel to Gravity Peak, and he only brought dress shoes and dumb fish slippers. We kept having to slow down."

Ford felt the pressure of Bill's gaze slide off of his face as he turned away, staring back into the kitchen. Bill said, "Yep. Guess I should have brought my hiking shoes—oh, wait."

Stan said, "You could've got some better shoes when we were at the mall! You're the one who wanted those dumb dress shoes."

"In my defense, I didn't think you paranoiacs would ever let me wander around in the great outdoors—much less force me to." He leaned more heavily against the doorway with a groan, muttering, "My legs are still jelly. Worthless human body."

Dipper glanced at Ford, as if checking with him to see if he'd made the right decision. Ford gave him a tiny nod of approval. After the day they'd had, humiliating Bill just for the sake of humiliation wouldn't have served any justice; it would have just been mean.

For the past three decades, Ford had always felt that Bill deserved the strongest possible punishment, both for his prior atrocities and to prevent future ones; but, he wanted to deal with Bill swiftly and efficiently. No gloating, no torture—just one quick shot. Sure, he got some grim satisfaction from knowing Bill was unhappy—knowing that Bill's vile intentions were being thwarted—and if anyone decided to treat Bill cruelly for cruelty's sake, he couldn't say they were wrong for it... but the thought of committing it himself made him uneasy.

He tried to remember if he'd felt that way when Bill had first arrived.

"I found the salsa!" Soos called from the fridge. "Somehow it all floated onto the highest shelf? Which kind do you want?"

"That one with a picture of a sobbing baby on it."

"Extra spicy it is!"

When Soos handed over the salsa and avocados, Bill said, "Hey, Hick Junior said his father was making announcements about staying inside and low to the ground? You didn't happen to have anything to do with that, did you?"

"Oh—yeah, I called Old Man McGucket and said I had a hot anonymous tip about what was going on," Soos said. "You said it was this whole public safety thing, so I figured the whole town should probably know? He's the local respected science guy now, I thought he'd know what to do with that kind of important information."

Bill grunted. "Terrific, he gets credit for my help. But you'd all be giving me heck if I'd said nothing and half the town broke their necks, so... whatever, net zero. Here." Bill took off the Monster-Mon backpack and swung it over to Soos. "Your reward. Good job."

"Whoa, haha, this is heavy. What's in here, a bag of rocks?"

"No, just one." Bill pushed off the doorway, wheeled unsteadily around, and trudged toward the stairs.

Soos unzipped the bag. A drugged geodite blinked sleepily up at him. He gasped. "Dude! A real Monster-Mon! Is this my call to epic adventure with a lovable animal sidekick?"

Ford grimaced, remembering watching Bill feed a geodite cold medicine. "Ah."

"I think I'll name you... Rocky," Soos said.

"That—really shouldn't be here. Its natural environment is caves, I don't know if it's safe for it to be out here—for it or us." They had been known to bite.

"Aww." Soos cradled the backpack like a swaddled baby. "Do you think it would be okay if I made it a fake cave to live in?" He gasped. "I could make an exhibit for him! I'll say he's a living meteorite! People love aliens."

"I'm not sure that..." Ford sighed. Well, none of them were going back to the cave today. "Maybe you should put it in the cellar where it's darker."

"Great idea!" Soos carried the geodite through the living room. "Hey, I've already got a mattress down there. You're gonna love it, lil dude..."

Ford hoped Soos didn't get attached to that thing. He shot a glower at Bill.

Bill was already on the stairs. "Now everybody leave me alone. Except you." He pointed at Mabel. "I don't want to do anything but lay on the floor and talk about whatever Mabel wants to talk about for the next three hours."

"Cartoons and boy bands."

"Yes," Bill sighed in relief, already preparing to turn 95% of his brain off. "Wow, yes, that's exactly what I want to talk about. I can't wait." He grabbed the handrail as he climbed heavily, leaning against it for balance as he dragged himself upstairs.

Before Mabel could follow him, Ford put a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, before you go—there's something I wanted to tell you and Dipper." Voice low, he said, "You remember when you told me that Bill had mentioned Edward Bishop Bishop?"

"Yeah? When we were drawing our houses."

"Something Bill said while we were out shook a memory loose. It reminded me of a book I read as an undergraduate—Flatworld, written by Edward Bishop Bishop."

"Aww," Mabel said. "Not an artist?"

"No, although he did illustrate the book," Ford said. "It's a novella that combines Victorian social commentary with a primer on higher-dimensional mathematics by using an allegory about sentient shapes living in a two-dimensional world."

"That's what you were talking about in the boat, right?" Dipper asked. "When Bill said something about..." He scrunched his face, trying to remember, "'Up in the sky'...?"

"Upward-but-not-skyward," Ford said, "to describe something that isn't higher than us in the third dimension, but rather, in a higher dimension relative to us."

"How do you know about it?" Dipper asked. "The first time it came up, you said the name Edward Bishop Bishop was familiar, but..."

Ford sighed in irritation, "I read it as an undergraduate—in a haze of sleep-deprived exhaustion just before finals week—to get extra credit in a course on the history of mathematics. I immediately forgot ninety percent of it—which I'm sure is why I never thought of it in relation to Bill. If only I'd remembered the book thirty years ago, when it might have done me some good..."

"It's okay," Mabel said. "I forget almost everything I've read for class basically as soon as I've taken the test. I think it's pretty good that you remember anything about Flatworld at all!"

Ford smiled awkwardly. He was afraid that might say more about Mabel's study habits than about his. "Thank you, Mabel."

"And you did have a lot on your mind thirty years ago," Dipper said. "Like, Bill. Literally. On your mind."

Mabel added, "Doing creepy possession things!"

"I suppose that's true, too." What would he have done if he had remembered the book during that frenetic, delirious period when Bill and Ford had wrestled for control over his body? He'd been in no fit shape to go to the library. "I did think about it a couple of times in the multiverse—when I was visiting Exwhylia, for instance—but at the time I'd brushed it off as a lucky coincidence that I'd read a book that invented a society of shapes. It wouldn't be the first time science fiction predicted science fact. But now that Bill's mentioned it twice, I'd say it's less likely a coincidence and more likely that Edward Bishop Bishop was another of his 'students.'"

"Is there a way for us to find out?" Dipper asked. "If he was Bill's student, would he have left behind any... hints? Coded messages?"

"Like secret society conspiracy things?" Mabel asked.

"Yeah!"

"I suppose it's possible," Ford said. "If Flatworld happens to feature a one-eyed yellow triangle sharing the secrets of the universe, we'll know for sure. But, there's only one way to find out: now that I do remember the book, we can pick up a copy for research."

"That's great," Dipper said. "If Bill told the author about his home dimension... there's no telling how much we can learn about him by reading it."

"So it's basically a math textbook disguised as a story?" Mabel groaned. "That's just like doing word problems! The most confusing kind of math problems. Why does Bill keep making me have homework this summer?"

"You know what he's like," Dipper said, elbowing her with a grin. "Dastardly villain."

"Pure evil."

Ford huffed. "If it helps, as I recall the book teaches you about math concepts, but it doesn't make you do any math."

She let out a longer, more theatrical groan. "Fine. But if there's a cousin Throckmorton I'm throwing the book away."

"I dunno, sounds kinda neat," Dipper said. "It might give me a leg up when we start geometry."

"I don't remember the details of what it covers, but I bet it could," Ford agreed. "I have to visit Fiddleford this evening to return the equipment he loaned us, and... discuss the events of the last couple of days. If the library's still open when we're done I can go by and see if they have a copy of Flatworld."

"Can I come along?" Dipper asked.

"Of course. Just give me a moment to..." He looked down at himself, "change into something a little less ridiculous."

Dipper tried not to laugh. "Okay. I'll wait here. Mabel, do you want to...?"

"No thanks!" She pointed upstairs. "I've got a captive audience to teach about boy bands. I'm going to make him listen to Sev'ral Timez's entire discography."

"He's already had a pretty bad day. Don't torture him even more."

Mabel blew a raspberry. "He'll love it." She bounded up the stairs.

Ford headed to his and Stan's guest room. Dipper took off his backpack, dropped it in the living room, and stuck his hands in his pockets—then pulled one out in surprise.

The enchanted friendship bracelets. They were still in his pocket. Bill hadn't had them on since Dipper's out-of-body experience that morning.

Dipper stared at them uneasily; then hung them in their usual place on the entryway coat rack and resumed waiting for Ford.

####

It was a rare opportunity that Bill was allowed in the kids' room; but with Ford and Dipper out of the house, the one person most likely to complain wasn't around. So after having extracted a strict promise for him to behave himself, Mabel had let him in, for ease of gossip and CD-switching.

But even if Dipper had been in the room, he wouldn't have found much worth complaining about. Once Bill had finished his snack (he'd eaten the avocados like pears, skin and all, and drank down the salsa like a chunky smoothie), he'd laid down on the floor, and since then had remained a dead lump. Face buried in his crossed arms, curled up in the oversized Fishmas sweater and a set of loose stolen-from-Soos sweats to replace the towel skirt, he might as well have been a pile of laundry that had sprouted curly golden hair. Mabel had put Sev'ral Timez's first album on the boombox, sat herself on Bill's back, and started brushing out his damp, knotted curls without asking as she talked about each track.

To her delight, Bill started insisting they skip past the slow, emotional love ballads, saying he preferred the bouncier dancier tracks; she thought the fact that he was displaying a preference rather than begging to turn the band off was a good sign. He was actually listening to the music. Possibly even liking it! Maybe she'd manage to convert him into a fan. She recounted her experiences with the band's cloned members and Bill threw in the polite "Mhm" and "Uh-huh?" where appropriate without lifting his head from the floor or opening his eyes. She'd thought he might have had something to throw in about the cloning thing, that seemed like the kind of conspiracy nonsense he might have a hand in; but if he knew anything, he wasn't up to sharing it.

When she'd wrangled his hair into some semblance of order, she got to work on his fingernails. His arm was like a dead weight in her hands, loose and unresisting but not helping, either. He shifted his head over to rest on his other arm and otherwise didn't move.

"Your fingernail polish is destroyed," Mabel said. On three fingers the paint had been all but completely scraped off. When he'd left a couple of days ago, it had just been lightly chipped. She started stripping the remainder with nail polish remover.

"Is it?" Bill mumbled. "Mmh. Yeah, probably from clawing in the dirt."

"Pfff. What did you do the last couple of days?"

Bill slowly sucked in a breath so deep that Mabel felt his back lift her a little higher off the ground; and then he just as slowly let it back out. "Do not," he said, "get me started."

He got started.

He began with a tirade about the contempt that both Ford and Dipper had shown him and his far superior subject matter expertise for the last two days; and then about being hauled out and exposed during totality after repeating over and over how dangerous it was and how much he would prefer to not do that—Ford had even admitted he'd dragged Bill out into open air just because he knew how much he didn't want that!—and from there Bill looped back to listing a whole litany of gripes against what he perceived as egregious and undeserved disrespect from Ford over the last couple of weeks—"Youmight have lied to me about that glass pyramid, but at least you didn't laugh in my face about it!"

(Mabel thought Ford pretty much had the right to be as disrespectful to Bill as he wanted, after everything Bill had put him through. Lying about a silly imaginary cult was less mean than lying about taking over the universe. But part of being a good friend, she knew well, was lending a sympathetic ear to your friend's venting without suggesting that said friend might be in the wrong. She had a Color Critters episode about being honest with your friends she could show him later.)

Bill seemed to gain strength as he aired his grievances, bolstered by Mabel's encouraging "mhm" "uh-huh" noises. By the time she'd finished repainting his first hand (she'd picked a glittery purple polish she thought would compliment all the yellow he wore), he was sitting upright and Mabel had to sit in front of him to start on his other hand.

"—and my stupid feet hurt," Bill griped. "Since Stanford made me traipse halfway through the mountain barefoot because he wouldn't let us go back down before the gravity returned and I don't even own shoes for spelunking. And my knees hurt, and my back hurts, and I could have killed for a walking stick but do think they'd have allowed me one if I asked? Because I don't think so! I tripped over—I don't know, a hundred roots."

"Worst hiking trip ever." Mabel finished painting his second hand, and started looking through her miniature sticker sheets for some fun stickers to put on Bill's first hand now that it was dry.

"Worst in the history of your planet! Even the Donner party had a better hike! At least some of them got something to eat," Bill said. "All I got for two days was a handful of cereal and Stanford's liquid meat in a toothpaste tube."

Mabel stuck out her tongue.

"And Stanford walks too fast. And your brother kept trying to squeeze through gaps between trees I couldn't get through. And Stanford kept fiddling with his—stupid—useless antique Civil War lantern he's so proud of, and he's just lucky that I thought to bring a way to find a light source even though I didn't even need one, because I knew he would bring that stupid Civil War lantern..." Bill's complaints petered out.

And then, voice oddly quiet, he said, "And I saw my corpse." 

Mabel looked up from carefully placing a yellow butterfly on Bill's middle fingernail. There was a dark look in his eyes. "Oh," she said. "Oh, Bill. I'm so sorry."

This wasn't just a bad camping trip. This was serious. She had to treat it seriously.

She ejected the current CD from the boombox, put in another Sev'ral Timez album, and skipped to track 4: "This goes out to anyone having a bad day. Ladies, this one's for you. 'Girl, today has been—straight whack. You don't know how you're gonna—bounce back. But any time you're down, I'll always be around; I'll drive your heart back to Happy Town'..." Oh yeah. That was the exact energy Mabel was trying to channel.

"And I didn't feel anything when I touched it." Bill was staring down at his hands like he barely recognized them. "No energy, no connection—nothing. What if there isn't a connection anymore? What if I'm just a human now?"

Did that weigh on Bill? Clearly, enough that he'd decided to endure imprisonment in the Mystery Shack rather than kill his body to see if there was still a triangle inside.

But he'd never talked about it before now; she'd thought maybe he just didn't worry about it.

But that was dumb. Of course he worried about it. He was just like her. When something scared him, he just pushed it down and hoped that if he ignored it enough, everything would be okay! Until he couldn't pretend anymore.

And she'd never heard him sound this scared before.

She took his hands and hoped that would help.

He squeezed her hands so hard it hurt. His still-wet nail polish smeared on her hand. "What if I'm really gonna grow old and die in this rotting meat doll, what if I never go home again—? There's so much I haven't done, I was going to throw an eternal party, it would have been beautiful, everyone would have loved me, but now— and now—" He let out a choked noise, head bowing over their joined hands, posture broken. Hot tears landed on the backs of Mabel's hands. "And I didn't even get to, just, die and be done with it, I have to know I'm dead, I have to know everything I was going to do..."

"Hey—come here." Mabel tentatively wrapped her arms around Bill's neck and shoulders, compressing his bouncy curls. She half expected him to pull away.

Instead, he buried his face against her shoulder and hugged her back like she was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

After spending the last two days suppressing his grief and fear so hard his body couldn't function through it—after spending over a month suppressing his grief and fear—finally, finally, he peeled the tape off his cracked shell to let it leak out. He couldn't hold it together anymore. He'd barely put himself back together long enough to get on his feet and make it to the shack. This was the only place it was safe to fall apart. He muffled his sobs in Mabel's sweater.

And Mabel—who was used to being comforted by adults but who had never been called upon herself to comfort anybody but her brother and the occasional friend—had no idea how she was supposed to comfort a zillion-year-old almost-definitely-adult alien through an existential crisis.

Not for the first time, she wondered whether she might have gotten in over her head.

She pushed the worry down. Everything would be okay. Bill needed her—she could feel him trembling—and he didn't have anybody else in the world he could trust. And if she didn't know what else to do, at the least she could keep hugging him.

Voice so tight it almost squeezed out as a whisper, Bill said, "I was going to make a utopia here, but now I'm just gonna die here."

"I'm so sorry." How do you comfort someone processing the fear of mortality? She'd never processed it herself, she was thirteen, it was just another scary future thing she'd deal with when she had to. The best she knew how to do was be nice. "But... I'm here, okay? For—for anything you need." (Anything that wasn't evil, anyway—but now was not the appropriate time to make Bill feel like her support was conditional.)

"Tell me I won't die."

"You won't die! You're never, ever gonna die." Mabel hugged him tighter. "I'll fistfight Death. I'll—break his bony kneecaps."

"Thanks."

"I'll swing at the reaper with a baseball bat."

Bill laughed feebly. "With nails in it?"

"Yeah! And barbed wire! Connected to a battery!"

"Oh, we're taking Death down. Nobody's dying ever again."

"Everybody lives forever!" Mabel laughed; but it quickly petered out. "But... I'm not gonna let you die. You're my friend, and I won't let anything happen to you."

Bill's trembling had stopped, and his embrace was less death-grippy. "I owe you one, Shooting Star." From Bill, "thanks" sounded hollow, but "I owe you one" really sounded like a thank you.

"Hey. If I tell you a secret, do you promise not to do anything evil with it?"

"Sure. Promise."

Mabel doubted it, but that was as good as she was gonna get. "I've always thought you're still a triangle on the inside. You've got those creepy cat eyes that see the future and stuff! If you were just a normal human, wouldn't you have normal human eyes?"

Bill made a noncommittal noise.

"Plus, if you'd really been turned into a human on the inside, then being in a human body wouldn't feel so bad—right? It'd just feel normal."

Bill was silent for a moment. Voice hoarse, he whispered, "I hope you're right."

####

Fiddleford answered the door himself. "Stanford, Dipper, come in! I was just cleaning up." He had a broom, and the great hall's floor behind him was sparkling with broken glass. Ford was relieved to see Fiddleford had put on shoes. Unfortunately, they were fuzzy slippers. "Pardon the mess!"

"Think nothing of it. The shack's been turned upside-down, too." Ford stepped around a broken chair. "Don't you have anyone to help you clean, though?"

"Oh, I do, I do! I built me a Janitorial Executive Drone to tidy up," Fiddleford said. "I'm just cleaning up the mess JED left."

Ford and Dipper looked around at the shattered glass, broken furniture, scorch marks around the fireplace, and torn curtains. Dipper asked, "Did... JED make this place any cleaner?"

"Not at all!"

Ford and Dipper caught Fiddleford up on their scientific findings of the last couple days. Ford was almost embarrassed to admit they hadn't found any noteworthy quantities of micro-rips, as if he were confessing to a personal academic embarrassment—even after Fiddleford pointed out that it had been his own theory, not Ford's. (All the same, Ford hated to be so wrong, even by association. Being wrong felt like a moral failing.)

In return, Fiddleford told them what he'd been up to. He'd confirmed with them NASA fellas that the odd gravity effects weren't detected anywhere but Gravity Falls. At their behest, he'd set up some sensors around town, and when gravity suddenly reversed, the measurements they'd taken had allowed him to make a very loose model of the shape of the force that caused it. He showed Ford and Dipper the model on a computer in his lab, black screen with sharp glowing green lines forming an armature in the shape of a force. It looked like an enormous flying sausage that tapered down at one end. Too little detail to tell exactly what it was; but it certainly could have been an axolotl.

It was turning to look at the cliff where they'd stood.

Fiddleford wasn't pleased to find out the information he'd passed on from Soos had originally come from Bill; but he'd suspected it and already done all his soul-searching before reluctantly sharing his advice with the masses and hoping it wouldn't come back to bite him. "He didn't bother to warn us that gravity would actually disappear today, though," Fiddleford said indignantly. "So he could crow about being right and still get to see some folks get hurt, I reckon."

"Actually, this time I don't think he was hiding it. I kinda think he just made an accident?" Dipper said.

Ford nodded. "Dipper's right. Bill was incredibly alarmed this morning when it became clear our estimates were wrong. It only made more trouble for him."

"I suppose," Fiddleford said grudgingly; then gave them a sharp look. "This mornin'? You took him camping?"

Ford and Dipper winced. Ford mumbled, "Not for fun."

"Stanford Pines—!"

It took a minute of hooting and hollering before Ford could calm Fiddleford down enough to explain the circumstances: that they'd only brought Bill because of just how much he explicitly did not want to be brought; that it had been a thoroughly unpleasant experience for everyone and Ford had never expected it to be otherwise; and that Bill had proven useful—Ford decided not to share the details—but he hadn't forgotten that Bill always made himself useful before he betrayed someone. If a man helped a little old lady cross a street, opened her door for her, put up her groceries, and then knocked her out and burgled her house, only one of those actions mattered.

(Dipper fell silent rather than help reassure Fiddleford. Ford supposed that was because he'd objected to bringing Bill, too.)

Fiddleford grudgingly admitted that under the circumstances, bringing Bill had been logical. "But that's just the thing—sometimes your logic don't account for the fact that you've got human emotions, too."

"Ah, yes, those human emotions. One of my worst flaws," Ford joked.

Fiddleford didn't laugh. "I mean it, Stanford. The most logical plan in the world don't mean nothing if he talks you into throwing it aside."

Ford thought of all the times he'd let his temper get the best of him over the last couple of days. Could he really say he'd made the logical decision when he'd made it out of anger? "Yes. I... see what you mean."

"Just be careful," Fiddleford said. "I saw you under that demon's oppression for months and never thought it was anything worse than how you always got around finals week—heck, for all I saw, I reckon he coulda started possessing you without me noticing—and I don't want that to happen again!"

Dipper winced. Ford found somewhere other than Fiddleford's face to look.

"What?"

"He... did. Possess me." (Dipper didn't pipe up with his experience. Ford didn't blame him.)

"He what? When?!"

"Remember toward the end of the project? When I started pulling all-nighters to finish the calculations...?"

Fiddleford smacked his forehead and sank down into the nearest chair.

Ford winced again. "I should have told you." During their talks over the past year, he'd been very reluctant to mention Bill or the fallout at the end of the portal project. They both had. "But—I assumed you'd guessed by now. What did you think was happening?"

"Frankly? I thought you'd started taking something illicit."

Ford snorted. "I—all right." He'd done stupider things during finals week.

"If he was possessin' you, why didn't you ask for help? I could've found somebody who knows how to do exorcisms. Did he not let you? Or—or did I miss you trying to tell me...?"

Ford shook his head. "No, I didn't want an exorcism." He wasn't sure Bill was the kind of "demon" that responded to exorcisms anyway. "At the time, I thought... that he was helping me."

Dipper reluctantly piped up, "He... possessed me once to. I didn't know that's what he was doing until too late, but... Even after you know he's a bad guy, he's really good at making you think he's just helping."

Fiddleford didn't immediately say anything to that. Ford couldn't meet his gaze.

Finally, Fiddleford said, voice low and worried, "Just tell me you won't let him get into your head again. Either one'a you."

Dipper shook his head. "Definitely not."

Ford said, "As he is now with all his powers gone, I don't think he can enter my head. Anyway, I had a metal plate surgically installed—"

"I didn't mean that way."

Right. "I won't. I promise."

Fiddleford nodded. "Didja really get a metal plate installed?"

Ford knocked on it demonstratively.

"Hmm." Fiddleford stroked his beard thoughtfully. He pointed at a contraption in the corner that looked like a ten foot tall tuning fork with electricity arcing between its tips. "Try not to get within five feet of that thing."

Ford eyed it nervously.

####

Fiddleford insisted Ford and Dipper stay for dinner. It was the first proper meal they'd had after two days of tubes mushy meat and mushy vegetables; so they tried not to show their disappointment when they received mushy meat and mushy vegetables. Fiddleford's automatic meatloaf-and-mashed-potatoes maker did its job more competently than JED did its, but Ford suspected that was partially because it didn't have legs to let it go get in trouble.

As they drove back into town, a stoplight turned red at the intersection with Main Street. Ford glanced down Main toward the library and asked, "Do you still want to stop by the library?"

Dipper, who'd nearly nodded off, blinked sleepily. "Huh?"

"To pick up Flatworld?"

Dipper yawned. "Honestly, I kinda just wanna go home and sleep."

"I hear that." He'd almost drowned today. He was exhausted. "Perhaps this weekend."

"Aren't you going to that concert with Mabel?"

"Was that this Saturday?" He'd lost track. Mabel had won four tickets from some radio contest to see Phrancisco in Portland and had asked Ford if he'd like to come. "I'm undecided. I'd like to go—I've been a fan of Invisible Plastic Yellow since they formed." He was the one who'd told Mabel about the band after their Portland trip and gotten her their albums. He'd had a phase when he'd really gotten into cutting-edge underground new wave music. It had made him feel conventionally cool, which not many things did. Now, all his musical tastes were three decades behind. He hadn't even known Phrancisco had a solo career until Mabel came home with tickets.

"But she's bringing her friends, and whoever has the fourth ticket needs to chaperone; and I'm afraid an old man escorting around three young girls would look... odd. It may be more appropriate for one of the other girls' parents to go." But he did want to see Phrancisco. "Perhaps I'll wait and see whether Mabel talks me into it."

"Better pack your bag now, then."

Ford laughed. He had a point. "If I do go to Portland, maybe I can stop by a bookstore to pick up Flatworld. If it tells us anything useful about Bill, I suspect we'll want a household copy for reference."

He was eager to reread it. He'd forgotten so much of it since college. He only recalled the vague, overarching plot: something about a third-dimensional sphere teaching a second-dimensional square about realities with higher and lower dimensions—from zero dimensions up to four—and a stuffy society based on what geometric shape you were... but that was it. He probably never even would have remembered the phrase "up but not north" if Bill hadn't referenced it. He wondered how much it could have helped him if he'd reread it sooner.

Dipper yawned again. "Sounds good."

The light turned green; and Ford drove past the library and headed on home.

####

(After going full tilt for two months, we finally get a breather lol. I hope y'all enjoyed, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #mabel pines #fiddleford mcgucket #grunkle ford #dipper pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

[norringtondeservestheworld]

Obsessed with Simon sacrificing his life every chance he gets to save Markus but when it's Markus risking his life to save him Simon tells him every fucking time he shouldn't have done that

#simon be like markus' life > the lives of other androids > my life like literally every android life comes first than his own #and people wonder why he is my favorite dbh character and one of my favorite characters of all time #he is so selfless and brave always ready to die for others but he doesn't want anyone to die for him #just imagine if markus died trying to save him???? I don't want even think about it fuck how much simon would be devastated???? #simarkus #markus x simon #sirkus #dbh simon #simon pl600 #dbh #detroit become human #detroit: become human

[brucewaynehater101]

In reverse Robins, technically Steph would be the second Robin, she would be in Jason's pixie boots and come back devastated and vengeful. Tim would either still be stuck at the one who has to put all the pieces together with people throwing all his effort and work back in his face because of the loss of a loved one and him not being them, or maybe in Barbara's position, crippled, traumatized, and having to rebuild himself both as a civilian and vigilante

Then Jason as the Replacement, the one who has to live up to his multiple predecessors, who has to mediate between two (mostly) grown men, who believes that Gotham needs Robin, needs the hope that Batman brings to the city

Bored with Red Hood Tim, give me Oracle Tim, give me a Tim who's forced to create his own mantle instead of taking on someone else's name while he gets the job done

You are absolutely correct. Why didn't I think about it that way? If we are reversing Robins, Duke would be a very temp "Robin" before Damian, who is older, takes over the role. They wouldn't be called Robin, but whatever mantle they end up passing down.

Duke would be it for like a minute or two (maybe his gang is inspired by Batman, wants to help the crusader, and then Duke settles into being his own role). Damian would then come into the picture, take up the mantle Duke discarded, and need to be Batman's partner (Duke doesn't need to. Damian needs the constant presence of Bruce both so he can get to know his dad and so that he is guided on Bruce's version of vigilantism).

Damian goes off to do whatever (maybe he does a few years in the LoA similar to what Bruce did but obviously different).

Bruce stumbles upon Steph, who's Spoiler, and negotiates with her to take up Damian's discarded mantle. Steph, who has her mom, never actually joins the Waynes. She also never truly bonds with Damian (who's away and not approving of her taking "his" mantle). Duke and her get along, but he typically works the "day shift."

Then Steph spots Tim stalking her on a roof. At first, creeped out, she hits him with a brick. Then Tim shows her the photos of the other Bats and the evidence he's collected of cases. Steph begrudgingly grows fond of the little stalker.

She doesn't have the best relationship with Bruce and is still a little miffed he forced her to be a vigilante under his watch (instead of continuing to be independent). Because of this, Steph keeps Tim to herself and away from the Bats. Tim doesn't want to be a vigilante anyways.

Steph shows Tim some moves to keep himself safe while he collects evidence and becomes a stalker. Cass gets adopted around this point and becomes the only Wayne aware of Tim's presence. It's a secret between the three of them.

Tim even introduces Steph to Helena Bertinelli. He met her while he was gathering clues for a case. While Tim and Helena are closer, Steph admires the older woman and her way of vigilantism. Steph can't copy it cause of Bruce, but Steph doesn't find it to be wrong either.

Then the whole mess with Black Mask happens, and Steph "dies."

Tim, who's devastated at the loss, sees Bruce losing it. He, despite the many jokes and promises he made to Steph, offers to take up her role in order to leash Bruce.

Bruce, who finds out the dead person he considered a daughter had kept a whole side of herself from him, pushes Tim away even more. Tim gets sent away, learns from Shiva, and stubbornly forces Bruce into healthier methods of grieving.

In the end, Tim gets captured by Joker, and the Joker Junior arc happens. While Tim isn't physically disabled, the torture and brainwashing makes returning to the field incredibly difficult. Tim has a hard time keeping himself present when he's not at home (and sometimes struggles even then). He has laughing spells and other shit. Tim has to pull himself from the field because of this.

Bruce, on the other hand, goes off the rails again. Tim, who can barely get out of bed some days, gives up. He can't keep managing Bruce's mental well-being on top of his own.

Tim moves out to the clock tower and spends a while moping (understandably). That is until a villain tries to pull some shit online, and Tim discovers another way he can help without being a liability in the field.

Tim nearly orders a hit on Bruce when he finds Jason in the same role that killed Steph and disabled Tim. Duke talks him down and promises to always look out for Jason. Maybe Damian comes back as well.

While Tim isn't able to go in the field, he can still train. It acts as a soothing routine to him. He ensures that Jason is always able to escape and drills into his head that running away is always better than dying. There are worse things than dying, too.

Then, while Jason is "Robin", Steph comes back as "Red Hood." She would probably do a play on words as Black Mask instead for her name. I'm not sure what her training arc would be like, but I like to imagine that she teams up with Helena sometimes.

Tim, through his connections with Helena and Harley, still creates the Birds of Prey.

Anyways, hope this is a decent timeline! There's more that can be added for each of the Batkids, so feel free to add what else you think should happen

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #steph brown #duke thomas #jason todd #bruce wayne #damian wayne #cass wayne #reverse robins #thank you for the ask!!!!

[peachdues]

THE GREAT WAR — PART II TEASER

A/N: ok, this one is just pure fun. Enjoy our two lovebirds being idiots.

His fingers brushed delicately against the curve of her cheek. “You’re ashen,” his frown deepened and his hand smoothed worryingly over her hair. “My treasure, are you unwell?”

She closed her eyes against the comfort of his touch. “I suppose I haven’t been sleeping as well as I could,” she admitted shyly.

A shadow passed over Giyuu’s face. “And I am to blame.”

“No!” Y/N’s hand covered his where it rest against the side of her head, and she wound their fingers together. “I’ve also felt rather nauseous — I haven’t had the stomach for much, lately.”

But Giyuu did not look convinced, and his hand slid to her forehead, resting her temperature.

“Perhaps I am only feeling hungry,” the Miko offered with a faint smile. It wasn’t true; she hadn’t been able to muster an appetite in days, but she wanted nothing more than to soothe his nerves.

“You haven’t eaten?” Giyuu’s hand dropped from her forehead and he rose. “Then I shall prepare something for you.”

“Giyuu, please don’t trouble yourself —“

“I won’t,” he said plainly, as he began rooting through his cupboards. “It won’t take me long.”

—

“Here,” Giyuu slid a steaming bowl in front of her with a soft smile.

Y/N looked gratefully up at her raven-haired lover, and she reached to cup his cheek. “Thank you.”

Giyuu almost blushed under the stroke of her thumb, but he nudged the bowl toward her. “Eat up.”

Her eyes dropped down to the meal her beloved had so carefully prepared for her and her stomach dropped.

Somehow, the broth looked both thick and thin, and it had taken on an unsettling muddy-gray hue. Large chunks of something white floated just above the surface, mixed in with what looked like brown seaweed.

She looked back up to him. But at the first glimpse of the quiet pride brimming in his eyes, the shrine maiden balked.

Y/N brought the bowl to her lips and took a long sip.

Her eyes flew open.

For one, dreadful moment, the Miko agonized over whether to spit out the rancid, sour broth or whether she should fight it down, Giyuu’s soup festering on her tongue all the while.

After another torturous beat, Y/ N chose the latter and with a hard gulp, she swallowed. The liquid and whatever chunks Giyuu had thrown in to create the abominable concoction were slimy as they slid down her throat.

The shrine maiden forced her mouth into a smile as she fought to conceal her shudder. “It’s wonderful,” she managed through clenched teeth. “Truly, I — hand me that bucket now.”

Her fiance had barely managed to shove the wooden basin under her chin before Y/N wretched, her body convulsing.

She’d been wrong, she decided between the few quick, gasping breaths she managed before her stomach revolted against her once more. However bad the soup had tasted going down, it was infinitely worse coming back up.

Finally, her heaving subsided though her nausea remained. Slowly, Y/N managed to lift her head up, in search of Giyuu, but when she found him, she was met with an expression that she could only describe as tortured devastation.

Guilt bubbled up hot in her throat alongside the bile she desperately fought to keep down. “It wasn’t you, I promise!” It was. “I’ve not been able to keep much of anything down lately — your soup was wonderful.”

A half-truth, but Giyuu looked so crestfallen and she couldn’t bear it.

hmmm I wonder why she’s feeling nauseous??? Also Giyuu is indeed a horrible cook lmao

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #giyuu tomioka #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny tomioka #kny giyuu #demon slayer giyuu #giyuu x reader #giyuu #giyuu x y/n

[wolfpawzjakey]

big jason death denier. you considered the posibility of Percy being able to get to jason in time.

if he can travel at around mach 5 in the water thats roughly 3,836.35 miles an hour.

santa barbra is 2,878.0 miles from new york. He could have gotten to Jason in less than an hour. in mark of athena HE LITERALLY HEALED JASON. HE COULD HAVE SAVED HIM OK. it literally parallels their confrontation in blood of olympus where percy spoke about how he felt like he shouldn't fight back against polybotes. IM SO SICK PLEASE

WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS???!??? I saw your other ask too so… 44 minutes you say

I’m devastated. Broken. Falling apart. How dare you but also thank you for pointing it out and doing the math for me. Because I cannot do math.

Imagining Percy fucking screaming through the water because something just isn’t right, and when he gets there it’s like he’s hit a bullseye. Jason’s bleeding out, he’s injured as all can be and he’s got exactly the remedy. Through shaking hands and stuttered assurances, he begins to heal Jason and it’s not perfect, not anywhere near close to enough due to the amount of blood he’s lost, but his wounds are closing and he’s not at risk of totally bleeding out and the most important thing is… he’s alive. He’s breathing, albeit shallow like, and he’s got even less color to his skin than usual (pale blond man moment) but he’s alive. And Percy starts to laugh, it’s not funny, not at all but he’s just gone from such pure utter horror, coursing through his veins like someone was personally pumping it there, to the most relief he’s felt in his life after getting his mom back. The adrenaline rush is so high, he must seem crazy, must seem absolutely insane, but grasping Jason’s hand in his own and feeling movement and life still there makes it all feel okay.

-

Jason, if ur out there buddy. This one’s for you.

#percy jackson #jason grace #pjo #hoo #toa #jercy #jason x percy #pawz replies #asks #what’s up with my guys named Jason dying huh?

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter 4

Warnings: Swearing, angst, Bucky's a dumbass, Sharon sucks

Cookie jumped up, dropped her phone on the bed and took a fast shower before rushing up to Nick Fury's office, in a t-shirt, leggings and wet hair, for an emergency meeting. On her way there she texted Dylan and Iris to meet her in her office in an hour. She crossed paths with a number of other agents rushing to their assignments. Everything was on lockdown and high alert as they tried to work out where Sharon and Bucky had gone.

Cookie hurried into Nick's office to see Maria, Sam and did a double take when she saw Steve Rogers amd Tony Stark at the table. She felt her stomach drop, must be serious if they were coming out of retirement.

A flash of red hair caught her eye and she turned her head to see Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton huddled together.

Cookie swore internally, she had a tenuous work relationship with the Black Widow, who hadn't taken Cookies close friendship with her former lover very well. Cookie realized that Steve and Nat might be the only people here who knew more about Bucky than she does so of course they were called in but she knew that working with Nat would be a challenge.

Steve and Clint weren't a concern as she had a good working relationship with both, when the two Avengers had been involved in the past.

Tony saw her and winked "No breakfast cookies, Cookie?"

Everyone chuckled and Cookie smirked at Tony as she took a seat and snarked back "Sorry Mr Stark, sir, didn't have time to grab any but if you want to come to the common room there are plenty."

The rest of them sat down and Nick started by explaining the current situation before Sam and Cookie gave their insights into Bucky's recent behavior.

Cookie noticed that Steve looked concerned while Natasha was leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face, staring at Cookie.

The Russian spy made Cookie nervous after a threat that was made when Nat saw Cookie and Bucky cuddled on the couch in the common room, watching a movie. Nat had told Cookie to stay away from her man under threat of violence but tried to play it off as a joke when Bucky snapped at her.

The meeting lasted just over an hour and everyone left for their own work spaces to keep an eye on the manhunt. The quinjet was prepared to take off as soon as they had any sightings of Bucky or Sharon.

Every agent worldwide was notified to be on the look out and warned that Barnes was on Sharon's side. Deadly force was only authorized as a last resort.

On the way back to her office, Cookie was near tears. She knew that something had changed about Bucky and now she understood, Sharon was not only manipulating him but had figured out how to brainwash him, or something. She knew how Bucky felt about being controlled after his time with Hydra. She knew that this would devastate him, if they could even bring him back. She wiped her tears, and got to work checking in with her informants around the world with the hopes that someone could find them.

Iris came up behind her and tried to look over Cookies shoulder "Any luck finding your boyfriend?"

Cookie bristled "What the Hell Iris? Where have you been? I texted you over an hour ago and you wander in now? and why would you sneak up on me like that? And he's not my damn boyfriend, we're not really even friends anymore."

She turned and glared at Iris "Why are you fucking around when we have a situation here? Get back to your desk and contact all your people, everywhere, to see if we can find them. Dylan can give you any information that you need."

Iris shrugged and wandered away "I will, I just needed to stretch and get some coffee."

Cookie shook her head, Iris was a great analyst but in recent months had been getting too full of herself and seemed to think the rules didn't apply to her. Her skill was the only reason Cookie hadn't fired her but Iris was really pushing her luck.

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

Bucky was sitting in his room, flipping channels when there was a knock at the door. He answered the door and smiled when he saw Sharon but frowned when he saw Cookie standing next to her. Cookie kept saying that Sharon was the Power broker and played a recording of Sharon saying she was the Power Broker and wanted the Winter Soldier for her enforcer. Sharon pulled a gun out and shot Cookie in the heart, then looked at him with a creepy smile and grabbed his hands, refusing to let go when he tried to pull away. His head started hurting and everything became a blur before he jolted awake, breathing heavily, head still aching. He sat up and rubbed his face, confused because that wasn't what happened. He tried to remember the encounter from the day before but it made his head throb even more.

He saw that Sharon was curled up next to him, like every other time he woke up, and he noticed he had lost another half a day. Then he looked around and realized they weren't in his room at the compound. Or Sharon's. He didn't remember going anywhere and worked to get up without waking Sharon.

He looked out the window and saw nothing but trees surrounding them. He checked out the house, more like a cabin, with one bedroom, a cellar and a loft. He checked the gps on his watch and saw they were way upstate, near the Canadian border. He was relieved they hadn't gone far but confused as to why they were here.

Bucky was distracted when Sharon woke and called him back to bed. He planned to ask her what was going on but she tried to distract him with sweet words and her nude body.

Bucky closed his eyes and stepped away from her. "Sharon, what's going on? Why are we here? I don't remember leaving the compound. Why do I keep losing time?"

Sharon smiled, and for the first time since she arrived at the compound, it made him uncomfortable "Don't you remember? You saw Dr Cho yesterday morning, she told you a head injury on your last mission was causing the blackouts. Don't worry baby, I've been with you the whole time."

Bucky's head started aching again "Hurts when I try to think about what happened with Cookie. I've never known her to be so completely off in her conclusions. What if- aarrgh!" he grabbed his head and stumbled before sitting on the bed.

Sharon moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around him "Don't worry, Buck. I've got you."

Bucky jumped away from her "No! Every time you comfort me or we fuck, I lose hours and shit keeps getting worse. Tell me right fucking now, what are you doing to me, Sharon?"

Sharon sat up and sighed "I'm just trying to help baby. I hate seeing you so upset and in pain, please let me help."

Bucky shook his head and shouted "NO! Not before you tell me what's going on."

Sharon stood and shook her head "No Barnes, you don't give me orders, it's the other way around. You should have gotten back into bed, it's more enjoyable than what's coming."

Bucky backed into the wall "What are you doing Sharon?"

She sighed "Just taking care of business."

Bucky felt a sting in his neck and looked at her "Wha whut what have you-" and fell to the floor unconscious before he could finish his question.

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

Sam showed up at Cookies office with fresh coffee and a bagel around 11am and forced her into a needed break.

"Come on Cookie, I know you barely slept but you need to take a break once in a while."

Cookie took a drink of coffee "I know, Sam but we have to find them. She's controlling him somehow. I played audio of her saying she's the power broker and wants the soldier to be her enforcer but he didn't hear what was said. I don't know what she did but she got into his head he's not himself."

Sam nodded "That would explain a lot but how? They got rid of the soldier in Wakanda."

Cookie shook her head "No, they got rid of the trigger words but the soldier is most likely still buried in his psyche. As far as how? I don't know, that's what we need to figure out so it can be reversed but first we need to find them."

Cookie thought for a minute before grabbing her phone and making a call "Hey Bruce, it's Cookie. Yeah, I know this shits crazy. So on that subject, I could use your help. Helen's too." she paused listening "I know, you're not an M.D. but you know about biology and biochemistry." she explained what happened with Bucky "I need you, and whoever else you think might have knowledge on brainwashing, drugs and hypnosis." Pause "Yeah, like how could one potentially wake the Soldat without the trigger words?" Pause "Exactly." she hummed "Thank you, I knew you'd understand. Ok and try to keep it vague with anyone who doesn't have that level clearance or is outside of the Avengers" she listened "Yes. Yeah we also need to figure out, if one were controlled with the aid of hypnosis or drugs, how we could snap them out of it. Right, exactly. Ok. Ok, I'll be in my office for the foreseeable future." She chuckled "Sleep? I've heard of such a thing but never experienced it myself." She laughed out loud "Ok Bruce. Keep me updated. Ok, thank you."

She looked back at Sam "They're gonna look into known methods and hopefully we can find an easier and faster way to handle the Soldat than tranqing him."

"What about Sharon?" Sam questioned.

Cookie growled "Bullet between the eyes sounds like a fitting reward for her. If she is taken alive I can't promise I won't make her wish she were dead."

Sam's eyes grew wide "I don't remember you ever being so bloodthirsty before, Cookie." He smirked "She took your man, right?"

Cookie shook her head "No, I'm not planning to renew my friendship with Barnes. He was an ass to me before she got here but no one deserves to be controlled, abused, like that."

After Sam left, Cookie continued to reach out to everyone she knew until Iris came back into her office, holding up a tablet "Hey boss, I think I found something"

Cookie nodded "Bring it over, let me see." Iris handed her the tablet and Cookie looked at her, confused "Map to a safehouse in Harlem? What's this about, Iris?"

"Sharon's personal phone pinged from a local cel tower. I bet they're staying at that safe house."

Cookie shook her head "Why would they stay at one of our safehouses? Sharon should realize we'll check all of them."

Cookie did a double take. Did she just see Nat pass by her office?

Iris persisted before Cookie could check

"I have a strong feeling about this and need you to come with me."

Cookie furrowed her brow "Take Dylan, I'm a little busy."

"Please boss? I can't find him and don't want to give them time to get away."

Cookie relented and they hurried to Iris's car. When they sat in the car Iris grabbed something from her purse and flicked it towards Cookie.

Cookie slapped her neck and her eyes grew wide before they started closing "Ouch! What was that? Iris, y y you-" and slumped over in her seat.

Iris rolled her eyes and started driving North.

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx @blackhawkfanatic @casey1-2007 @scott-loki-barnes @selella

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #james bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #no benefits

[thewolvesof1998]

Don’t get me wrong I’m devastated that we’re not getting the karaoke scenes (mostly because they said we were and now are not, don’t get my hopes up like that abc) but really the annoying part is that this Madney story is being crammed into one episode. The way I understood it at first was that “oh chimney’s missing but is quick to resolve” but an hour and 45 minutes!?!? (I don’t remember the exact run time they said but it was something ridiculously long) that’s a lot bigger of a story, so why isn’t it a two episode arc?? One, Madney deserve it and two, surely when they were writing this episode they knew how long it was all going to be and then they filmed it and still thought it would all fit in one episode??? And then to know you have a lot of footage and promise people that a certain scene was going to be in it when there was a high chance it might not?

#I know this shit #I studied this shit #it’s very unlikely they didn’t know they were going to have too much footage #not to mention the extra time and money it take to film this much #like it’s noticeable #like give me the script and the filming schedule pls #don’t hate me but someone said it on tiktok: do we really need another Bobby arc in a 10 episode season #I love Bobby but there are other characters #like chim and maddie #who are getting married #also abc decided to make it all more elaborate with Chim going missing #if your going to do that give us the time to tell it right #9-1-1 #madney #buddie

[raina-at]

Fall

Warning: If suicidal thoughts trigger you, please proceed with caution.

It’s not the fall that kills you, it’s the landing.

Five minutes. From the time he got out of the taxi until he saw Sherlock’s lifeless body lie on the pavement, five minutes passed. At most.

John has lived through these five minutes countless times. Endless times. If you strung up every time he sees these five minutes play before his closed eyes - in dreams, in memory, in penance - you could reach the next century. At least that’s what it feels like. 

How did he do it?

Why?

How did I not see?

These questions haunt him, derail him, consume him.

He walks by Barts at every hour of the day, he studies the police report, he looks at the crime scene photos. 

How could I be so stupid? 

He was devastated when Sherlock jumped. He was traumatised and grieving and barely functional for so long. He pulled himself out of a deep dark black hole by the skin of his teeth and the ridiculous thought that he had to live on to preserve Sherlock’s legacy. That he needed the world to see how brilliant he was, how loveable. How human.

How deeply, bitingly ironic, then, that Sherlock’s return from the not quite as dead as you thought after all has derailed him completely. Sent him into a tailspin he sees no way out of.

He barely eats, he kips on the sofa in his office. He only notices Mary’s thrown him out because one day, all his earthly belongings are dumped in a heap in front of his office door.

He doesn’t care. More time to devote to the one thought he cares about. How? Why?

He replays these five minutes in front of his mental eyes so often. He takes pictures, he tries to find witnesses. He does all the things he should have done after Sherlock jumped, if he hadn’t been so stupid. So paralysed with grief. 

It didn’t even occur to him. That it could be fake. Because Sherlock wouldn’t. He would never.

What a fucking idiot he was. Maybe that’s why Sherlock did it. To get rid of him. To be free of the bumbling fool blogger running after him like a puppy.

Alex, his boss, puts him on medical leave when she finds him at the surgery at three in the morning, pacing his office, muttering to himself. 

He doesn’t tell her he has nowhere to go. He just shows up at Murray’s house, who lets him sleep on the sofa in the basement and doesn’t bother him otherwise.

It’s a grey December day when he stands on a roof, diagonally across the street from Barts. Mycroft told him about the snipers, and he imagines what it must have looked like, from way up here. 

He imagines watching Sherlock jump from this angle. Imagines the crosshairs of the rifle mark the place where the bullet would have entered John’s skull. Spends a visceral moment feeling it, wanting it. Wanting this all to end.

It would be so ironic, he thinks. If he actually did it. If he jumped. Like Sherlock did(n’t). Maybe then he would know. Maybe then he would understand. 

It’s easy to sneak up on the roof at Barts. Easier than it should be, after a suicide. 

It’s freezing up here. The wind cuts through his clothes. He shivers with cold and fear and a ringing sort of despair. What do you do when the only person you truly loved fucked you over this badly? What do you do when you’re not even worth a good lie?

He should have seen it. A thing like this isn’t easy to do. There had to have been cables, or a body switch, or some sort of catching device. He should have seen it. He didn’t, because he’s stupid and worthless and Sherlock never loved him, never wanted him, never cared. 

The windchill freezes the tears on his face. He steps up to the ledge. 

“Please don’t.”

Sherlock’s voice is raw and tired and rough with cold. 

John isn’t surprised. Not really. He knows he’s being watched all the time. 

He hasn’t spoken to anyone in days. He has to clear his throat before he can answer. “Why not?”

“Because I’m not worth it,” Sherlock answers. He sounds as hollowed out as John feels. As tired. As desperate.

John turns around. Sherlock looks like shit. He’s pale and wan and so thin, and John can see the lines the last two years have cut into his face. His nose is red from the wind and there are tears in his eyes.

“How did you do it?” John asks. I should make you watch, he thinks. Like you made me watch. Maybe then you would understand. 

“Does it matter?” Sherlock asks, weary and sad.

“Maybe, just for this once, I can decide what fucking matters,” John yells, his throat raw, the words like barbed wires, ripping him up from inside. “Maybe just this one time, I matter!”

“You always matter!” Sherlock answers, “Please believe me. You always, always matter.”

“Two years,” John whispers, unbelieving. “Two fucking years.”

“I know,” Sherlock answers, his voice as raw as John’s, holding John’s eyes. “I know.”

“What does that even fucking mean?” John yells. He’s shivering with cold and anger as he takes a step towards Sherlock. 

“Two years,” Sherlock says quietly, reaching out to gently touch the tear tracks on John’s face with ice-cold fingertips, his voice shaking with unshed tears. “I’ve missed you so much.”

John tries to bite down on a sob, but he can’t hold on anymore, he’s been biting down on that bullet for over two years, and he can’t do it one more single fucking second.

Sherlock’s there, wrapping him up in warmth and safety and that Baker Street home smell as John sobs out two years of grief and anger and sorrow into Sherlock’s ridiculously expensive coat. John can feel Sherlock lose control as he cries into John’s shoulder, muttering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again, but John doesn’t need to hear it anymore. 

He can feel it.

He finally, finally understands. 

“Let’s go home,” he whispers into Sherlock’s hair. He’s done with this place. “Let’s finally go home.”

------

I promise happy fluff tomorrow to make up for the pain.

Tags under the cut as usual.

@calaisreno @peanitbear @meetinginsamarra @totallysilvergirl @jolieblack @keirgreeneyes @helloliriels @catlock-holmes @jrow @salmonsown

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #my fic #ficlet #careful this gets dark #may prompts 2024 #fall

[katelynnwrites]

so long, london | sydney lohmann

warnings: angst once again

word count: 957

summary: you have to say goodbye to london because of sydney

a/n: the seventh and last installation of my 'the anthology' blurbs series

it was quite clear to you, the moment sydney became disinterested in your relationship.

she stopped flying out to london when she had free weekends and stopped asking when you could fly out to munich.

you kept calm and carried the weight of the rift.

until you couldn’t.

despite your attempts at pulling your girlfriend closer, each time she drifted away, it was futile.

syd simply didn’t want to be with you anymore.

you thought she had known the commitments of a long distance relationship. the confidence in which she had asked you out after playing against your club in the second leg of the uwcl quarterfinals had mistakenly led you to believe that.

so you stopped trying to make her laugh and instead, started thinking about how much sad she thought you had in you.

on your first date, the midfielder had taken you to a cute little coffee place that you had never been to or even heard of, despite living in london for years, the day after arsenal knocks her team out of the european competition.

it didn’t matter that she had a flight to catch later in the day, she made time for you.

she was sweet and warm and ever so attentive to you.

it drew you in easily, she drew you in easily and it was entirely unsurprising that you quickly became smitten with her.

you learned that she loved her coffee and it became a point whenever she flew in to see you, that the both of you would find a new coffee place to try.

it led to the two of you discovering all the nooks and crannies of the english city.

small parks, quaint little side streets and endearing out of the way cafes, you and syd explored them all.

you flew out to munich to see her too. sat in the stands of the bayern campus to watch her play, experienced her cooking which she insisted upon and fell in love with her somewhere along the way.

she told you she loved you too, made you believe her words with intimate kisses and touches.

honestly, it was a tragedy how the end of your relationship came about.

it wasn’t anything like how they showed it in the movies you watched growing up. or in the television dramas sydney loved watching.

there was no big fight and storming out or someone cheating on the other.

it was just a slow and inevitable sinking of the ship. it simply was bleak. and agonising. and oh so devastating.

you took a blow to your heart, the day you realised that you couldn’t remember the last time the blonde had told you she loved you.

‘i love you.’

three basic words that had meant the world to you when she had promised them to you the first time.

you never thought there would be a last time hearing them from her lips. maybe that’s why you can’t remember when she said them last.

you didn’t know to memorise the moment because it had never crossed your mind that the moment would come.

that’s when you stopped CPR, after all it’s no use if sydney doesn’t want to love you anymore.

you fly to munich, to tell the german woman that you are done trying.

it ruins you when the blonde promptly accuses you of not loving her enough. that you are the one abandoning your relationship.

her voice is filled with quiet resentment and that is when your white knuckle, dying grip on the shreds of your once beautiful relationship relents.

for months, you have lived in fear of her walking out on your love affair. your friends have been telling you it wasn’t right to be scared every day of your relationship and now you see the truth in their words.

you’re helpless to save your relationship if she refuses to try on her part.

if sydney isn’t sure if she wants to be there, if she wants to be yours…then there is no way that you can force her to stay.

she swore that she love you but where were the clues? you died on the altar waiting for the proof.

so really, how much sad did she think you had in you?

because here you are, standing in your apartment with packed boxes all around.

you can’t stay in london.

not when every street and every corner reminds you of the walks you used to take with the bayern munich player, hand in hand. of the affection you used to hold for her. or the laughter you used to share.

you’re strong but you’re only so strong. you can only take so much and you aren’t sure if you can take the break up.

by the time you land in america, you’re just mad as hell.

because you loved that place. you loved london and you loved playing for the arsenal. you even loved the dreary weather.

but you had to give all that up because of sydney.

she’s spoilt london for you and you had to leave it and arsenal because of her.

you had to leave europe altogether, god forbid the two of you end up playing against each other in the champions’ league again.

the very competition that started your relationship in the first place is now a bitter memory.

north carolina is where you flee to.

it’s far enough from sydney. and munich. and london. where all your hopes and dreams once lived.

for so long, london. you had a good run.

sydney lohmann was a moment of warm sun but you’re not the one for her.

so long london. stiches undone. two graves, one gun. she’ll find someone.

it just won’t be you.

#sydney lohmann #sydney lohmann x reader #sydney lohmann imagine #woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso oneshot #woso fanfics #fcb frauen #gerwnt #dfb frauen #katelynnwrites #'the anthology' blurbs series

[yanhoe]

𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄… 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪? 𝙄 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙨𝙩?

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩; 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙮𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙘 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮/𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙨, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙨, 𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨, 𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙥𝙨𝙚𝙨, 𝙖𝙢𝙥𝙪𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚, 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙪𝙢𝙖, 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨, 𝙨𝙠𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜

𝙩𝙩𝙢; 𝙣𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 (𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩)

He was more than a man; a creature ripped from the smothering hell he vacationed in. Agony and anguish reeked through his pores, blending into the crimson ichor that he doused himself in. Like a person madly driven off the edge, he’s done something that would put his name down in history for all to remember.

They made him do it. It wasn’t his fault. He repeats this inside his head, over and over—clinging to it with desperation. What he’s done is justifying. There was no other way. He was right… and they were wrong. All of them were wrong for him. All of them but… one.

Like a statue that will one day be built in his honor, Julius stands immobile in a one man blood bath. The smell of copper lingers in the air, the iron sword in his hand never felt so light since the day he learned to wield it.

If they had just stopped mettleing with his life for once, then maybe they would still be here and he didn’t have to kill them. But within the royal walls, everyone was cold and guarded, lacking warmth and affection.

His parents ruled with an iron fist, their words were absolute. Money and power were the primary aim. Why were they so surprised when their own son gave them exactly what he was taught? They should..would be proud.

It was their strictness and high expectations that kept him away from society if not business related—he didn’t even have a single friend. He can’t complain for the most part. His upbringing brought him to you, albeit a little too late.

His angel, the only light to his hellish world, was betrothed to another. Imagine his devastation when he came to find out it was his cousin, the son of a Duke. That could have been him. It should have been him. It will be him.

The injustice of it all ignited a simmering resentment within him. Blame fell squarely on his parents for shaping a life that kept you apart from him. They were asking for death the second they denied his request to break off the engagement. A viscount child has no business with a future king, they said. Who are they to tell him who he can and cannot want?

They’re just lucky their deaths were quick. He can’t say the same for all the other women they pushed on him over the years. He didn't mean to do it the first time. It was entirely an accident. She just wouldn’t shut up. Everything that came out her mouth was horse shit. One fork in the neck, blood spat in his face and on the tea table, there she laid lifeless.

How many people did he have to kill to get it through their thick skulls that he only wanted you? Too many, he’s lost count and they still didn’t care. They brushed all of them off as collateral damage… oh how pathetic they must have felt in their last moments realizing that’s exactly how Julius saw them.

Unnecessary baggage in the way of something greater. Something he’s spent many nights awake, contemplating how to get to you and finally make you officially his. Don’t be confused; you were already his the second he laid eyes on you, but it felt like forever you’ve been out of reach.

Footsteps thud against the marble flooring before coming to a stop behind him. He doesn’t need to turn around to know reinforcements have come, but they weren't fast enough. “Do you think it wise to make an enemy of me?” Julius mocks them, waiting for them to rush him. But they never do. He humors them by peeking over his shoulder, smirking at finding them all kneeling before him.

That’s more like it.

He turns back forward, stepping over the remains of his deceased parents, may they rest in hell where they belong and ascend the many steps to his rightful place: the throne. It sits atop in pure gold, decorated with patterns that go back centuries.

Now for first order of business… he sits on the throne, glaring down at the solders who shake in their armor up at him. Perhaps it was the slow drying blood on his face that got them spooked? His lips twitch, finding this way more amusing than he anticipated.

“Bring them to me.”

That was all the information needed. They knew exactly who he was referring to. Over the last few years, the ex prince has been very foolhardy about his attraction to an already spoken for woman. It’s almost like his mannerisms flew out a window in a blink of an eye.

One man hesitates to leave with the others to receive the person of interest, causing Julius lips to twist into a scowl at the disobedience. “…?” he silently question the man with his steely purple eyes, tilting his head and resting it on his hand in a sense of boredom.

The man swallows thickly, raising a shaking finger to his parent’s corpses, “The bodies, sir?” Well good on him for managing not to stutter at least.

Julius waves him off, “Leave it. A gift for my beloved.” The man flinch at his curt dismissal of his parents, whom he doesn’t refer to as actual beings at this point. He opens his mouth to reply, but Julius cuts him off, now sitting forward on the throne, “Perhaps you’d like to join them since you seem so concerned?”

That’s shut him right up. He bows in respect for the throne before shuffling out of the gigantic room with his tail between his legs. Julius hums in contentment, sitting back against the throne. Now alls that left to do is wait for you and start a life together, as it should’ve been.

He taps and taps and taps his fingers on the hold arm rest of the throne as seconds turn into merely minutes. But it was minutes far too long for him as he grows impatient waiting. It was quiet, he was alone; that was never a good thing. His mind starts to question your hold up.

Did you get hurt? He will murder all of them if even a single hair on you was harmed. What if they decided to use you as a bargaining chip for him to step down from the throne? It’s be a cold day in hell before he allows either two to play out. From where he’s sitting, he figures he has to go find you himself before he drives himself mad with what ifs.

When he finds you because he will find you—he always does somehow. Sometimes you’re not even aware he has…. You’re in the middle of being tugged by the forearm back in the direction of the palace entrance by none other than your fiancé.

The guards are trying to stop him, which is ridiculous to Julius. The man was half his size. A puny little punk. All he would need to do is—one little push—and he’ll fall like a domino overtaking. But this kind of scene needs a different set of actions.

“Have you all lost it? They’re my fiancée!” he shouts repeatedly, face pink in anger as his chest heaves up and down when he pushes a soldier back enough to continue dragging you.

A tantrum that falls on death ears because all Julius can focus on and care about was you. His sight goes fuzzy, black dots dancing behind his vision as his skin grows impossibly hot. How dare… How dare he continue to touch you like you were his? How fucking dare he continue to challenge him, even now?

“Brandon, Let me g—“ your cut off by some liquid splashing specs on your face. The scream came immediately but you were still registering what just had happened with rapid blinking. Everything from there was moving at a speed of a snail.

The soldiers who once tried to stop Brandon before, step back in fear. This is exactly what they were trying to avoid, but he persisted in taking you back home where you belong. The King made it abundantly clear you belonged to him.

Brandon kneels on the ground, wailing uncomfortably in agony as he holds his gushing arm. The bleeding flowed with urgency, the liquid was everywhere! The pink in his skin was losing color quick, you’d think he saw his worst nightmare if you didn’t know any better. It was just Julius, but then again it’s not too far off.

He raises his sword just as Brandon looks up in terror, swinging it down so vigorously, it matches the same fire found within Julius eyes. It strikes Brandon across the chest, deep enough for him to cough up blood but still be conscious…if you can call him that after he falls to the floor, shaking like a newborn cub first time in snow.

“You’re being a bit dramatic, cousin.” he taunts, pointing the end of his sword on his cheek, pressing into it to draw beads of blood, “Truly pathetic considering you bold attempts to go against me.”

Brandon’s lip tremble like he wanted to say something in protest but it couldn’t open wide enough to say even a syllable. Igor stains the corner of his lips and chin as his mind struggles to decide on which wound to aid to first with a single good hand left.

His current state…it pleases Julius so much. Slowly a twisted grin surfaces on his face, making him look even more demented than his actions already have. He’s grown to like crushing those that didn’t understand their place. It’s unfortunate that it’s been mainly family who never heed to warnings.

It finally registers what you’re witnessing, an ear bleeding scream rips from your throat as you fly your hands to your mouth to muffle it. It only aid to hyperventilate you when Julius turns to you, face devoid of the blood thirst from earlier, now evidence of concern.

“What? What’s happening?!” he asks, dropping his sword in favor of seeing about your wellbeing. He was standing in front of you with three long strides. He reaches for your hands, pulling them from your face, gripping them tightly to still your trembling.

When that didn’t work, he places them on your face, forcing you to look at his, which is still soiled in the blood of his opponents. “Tell me what troubles you, my love?” You claw at his hands in a desperate attempt to separate, but he doesn’t even flinch.

Words can’t even describe the fear rattling your very being. He wasn’t even human—a monster—that’s the only explanation for the lack of empathy and ability to harm others without a second thought. Were you next? The thought made you sob harder.

He didn’t like that. Not even a little… Maybe it’s because he’s foolishly in love with you but your scared expression wasn’t one that sit well with him. It both worried and irritated him the longer it went on. “Stop it now.” he demands, holding your face tighter, eyebrows furrowed as he focused solely on you, “I didn’t give you a reason to cry.”

He meant that in a reassuring way—that’s how he tried to come across but you interpreted it differently. With his appearance and actions, it was terrifying to say the least. You’re shaking your head in protest, “Please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry,” you apologize for no reason.

Hurting YOU was the farthest thing from his mind now that you’re within arms reach. He wants nothing more than to keep you close, where you can suffocate him with your unconditional love that he craved since laying eyes on you. So don’t you look at him like that and don’t you speak to him like he didn’t jump through hoops to get this far.

Before Julius can try to soothe your woes, a tug on his trousers leg caught his attention. He tsk looking down, seeing Brandon, who somehow pulled himself together and crawled over to him. From where Julius was standing, he really did look like a pest—he just keeps pestering and meddling in his affairs.

It really pissed him off that he didn’t just die already. Can’t he see he’s in the middle of something? Well… since he wants to be a pest so badly, he might as well be treated as one. The corner of his lips twitch, rising into an unsettling grin as he still holds your face firmly.

He doesn’t even consider how he might look in your eyes as he lifts his leg up, slamming his foot down on Brandon’s face, barely making a dent in his skull. To your horror, he repeats it over and over again, each stomp more aggressive and purposeful than the next until his brains were peeking outside his head and his eyes popped out of its sockets.

“Hey—“ Julius calls out to you after a while. He noticed your lack of attention on him. You were too busy gawking at what remains of your ex-fiancé. “Look only at me. Are you trying to upset me?…”

He wasn’t already???

“As my lover, you’re not allowed to look at any other man… unless you want me to gift you their head as consequences.”

𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

#obsessive love #obsessive yandere #yandere #fanfic #yandere boyfriend #writers on tumblr #♡ to my only one | mstl lvl 4 #yandere boy #yandere male #yandere x #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere fanfiction #yandere x darling #yandere headcanons #oc yandere #yandere oc x reader #yancore #yandere obsession #yandere original character #yandere oneshot #male yandere oc x reader

[haikyu-mp4]

Just Dance

word count; 1307 – gn!reader, talk about sexual activities but no descriptions

Your neighbour, Kuroo Tetsurou, wasn’t a nuisance all the time. Mostly when he had friends over. It was never quite clear what they were doing, but when did men ever need a reason to be loud?

However, you had the worst day at work today and listening to two men knock into stuff, pant and groan was not making it any better. Usually, you assumed they watched sports or played video games, but you weren’t sure what it sounded like this time. This friend was the loudest one, you had met him a few times already after he eagerly introduced himself in the hallway.

Now, you had enough. You made your way across the hall and left three knocks on the door, tapping your foot as you waited. A low headache was squishing your brain and the hallway felt smaller than it really was.

“Hey, hey, hey! It’s the neighbour!” A shirtless Bokuto opened the door, and you shouldn’t be surprised that he was so sweaty after all those sounds. Still, it made you a bit flustered, so you looked past him and tried to remember your words when you noticed Kuroo come up behind him. He still wore his work shirt, but the top buttons were undone and the tie hung loosely around his neck. Sweat covered the part of his neck that you could see, and the shirt clung to him in the most attractive way.

He looked hot.

So now you were scrambling for words as you looked between the two, wondering if you weren’t Kuroo’s type at all. Had they been… playing around… with each other?

Kuroo didn’t seem to understand exactly why you were so flustered, leaning an arm on the door frame and throwing you that classic smirk that reeked of mischief and charm. “Hey, kitten. What’s up?”

You looked from one man to the other and back, repeating this process a few times before settling with looking at your feet. “I’m sorry for disturbing your… activities. I was just wondering if you could keep it down,” you asked, voice a little shaky when trying to choose a word to describe what you assumed they did.

Kuroo frowned, taking note of how your hand came up to massage your temple. “Don’t say sorry, we’ll try to keep it down. Are you okay?”

Bokuto looked between you two and wiggled his eyebrows at his best friend, making said friend give him a look that said not now, go away. He did as he was told, turning around and leaving, but not without letting him know “I’ll set up for another round.”

Your cheeks flushed a deeper red, taking a step back. “Don’t worry, you two have fun,” you said before turning around and running back to your own apartment, swiftly closing the door behind you.

Kuroo was left in confusion, staring at where you just stood and replaying the moment in his mind once or twice before the colour drained from his face. He turned to Bokuto with a hand in his hair and a dramatic gasp. “She thinks we’re fucking.”

Standing in the living room, Bokuto was stretching his thighs to get ready for their next round, a preview of Black Mamba by Aespa playing on the TV when he bursts out laughing at Kuroo’s realisation. They were practising Just Dance because Kenma and Akaashi realised they liked teaming up with each other and challenged the leftover duo for their next game night. Such an innocent activity turned into a devastating misunderstanding.

Thankfully, they seemed to get the message and kept the noise to a minimum for the next few hours, letting you take a much-needed nap. When you did wake up, the headache was less prominent and more of a foggy haze that you would try to fix by drinking a glass of water or two.

While you were gulping down the second glass, there was a knock on the door. You wipe your mouth with the back of your sweatshirt and put down the glass before walking to the door. When you were almost there, the person on the other side knocked again and you huffed out a “Coming, coming,” before flinging the door open.

There stood Kuroo, a crooked grin under his nose and two boxes of takeout food from the closest Chinese restaurant. The second the smell wafted into the apartment, your stomach growled loudly. You had gone straight to bed earlier without eating and the hunger didn’t hit you before now. “Sounds like I came just in time. Care to help me eat all this food?” You opened the door wider and gestured for him to come inside.

“Come right inside, kind sir.” Kuroo had put on a sweatshirt over his messed-up shirt and switched to sweatpants, but your eyes still stuck to him like he wasn’t wearing clothes at all. Maybe he likes men and women? That would still give you a chance!

The two of you had eaten dinner together several times before, and it always came with loud laughter and some silly movie like 21 Jump Street. This time, you were not being as loud. “Sorry about Bokuto. He gets pretty loud.” Kuroo suddenly said after swallowing a piece of chicken. You chuckled under your breath.

“I didn’t mean to intrude on your business,” you excused yourself, glancing at him only to look back at your food when you saw that he was staring at you like he wanted to say something he shouldn’t. Kuroo who was usually so good with words wasn’t sure how to approach this. He put his food on the coffee table in front of the couch you two shared.

“We were playing Just Dance,” he blurted out, laughing nervously like he wasn’t quite sure. You stopped eating, almost spitting your food back out before forcing it down and putting the rest on the table like Kuroo did. Holding your hands out between the two of you, you made a weird face.

“You don’t have to lie, Kuroo.”

The man finally gave up, laughing loudly as he couldn’t quite believe he was in this situation. “In many ways, I wish I was lying! Bokuto and I were challenged to a Just Dance competition with our friends this weekend and wanted to practice.”

You started laughing with him, one hand covering your mouth. “Are you serious? I thought you guys had sex!” you admitted, letting your shoulders relax as Kuroo seemed to do the same.

“I know!” he groaned. Your laughter slowly blended into each other and you were left with soft grins on your faces. You licked your lips and leaned back, realising you had been leaning forward on the couch.

Kuroo seemed to do the opposite, leaning forward with one hand supporting him on the couch between you two while the other went to the back of your neck, quickly pulling your lips to his so he didn’t have to figure out what to say. You understood loud and clear and returned the emotions as you moved across the couch to straddle his lap instead.

That weekend, you laughed even more from Kuroo’s couch as you watched the guys dance. They were all pretty nice, and you were happy to get to know them. Kenma even asked you to do a duo with him, and Akaashi complained that he was replaced when you two beat everyone’s scores.

Everyone was having fun as Kuroo wrapped an arm around your waist, making some pouty comment about you not dancing with him yet and you just kissed the pout off his face followed by an evil laugh.

“Can you believe I thought you and Bokuto were fucking?” you giggled.

Why was it suddenly so quiet?

Oh, everyone was staring at you. They didn’t tell Akaashi and Kenma about that. How funny!

masterlist

#haikyu x reader #haikyu #haikyuu #hq x reader #fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu fluff #haikyu fluff #haikyuu x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader

[torialefay]

Hi! I always love the way you ellaborate things in detail. Can you also describe how lee know is like when he get jealous? Will he get extremely possesive when it comes to his lover?

thank you so much for your kind words!!! ❤️ that means the world to me.

here's the thing about lee know: i think deeeep down, he has a need for his freedom. he UNDERSTANDS freedom and he values freedom. but in relationships, he just can't fucking do it (at it's probably hell for him).

i say this because:

#1 his moon in sag. it's all about freedom and being able to be adventurous and explore. it's tied to who he is emotionally. at his core, he understands this and HE needs this. he needs his freedoms, and he doesn't alwayssss want to feel like he's being tied down. but that doesn't necessarily mean that's what he wants for you... even if he does understand HOW you could be like that, it doesn't mean he's okay with it.

#2 his mars in virgo. he knows how to be direct and get shit done. he is going to be practical in the way that he does things. so it's not like he's lost in his head about all of this. he is fully aware of what he's doing. what is he doing exactly? well.....

his sun, mercury, AND venus in scorpio. we first have to look at the characteristics of scorp. obviously known to be deep and emotional. they have desires that they often lock away, but can open up for the right person. and in the end, that's all they want. someone who can be there to UNDERSTAND them. but since scorpio knows what it's like to feel so deeply, it can lead them to hide things for others. it can also lead them to manipulate others. they will want to know every little thing about you. and you can bet your ass they will use that to their advantage. they know how you'll react, and that makes it 10x better.... and the fact that they "know you so well" makes them extremely possessive of you. to the point that they can definitely become jealous if they think you are getting too close to anyone else.

sun: it's gonna shine through in his personality. at least he doesn't outright hide it... well, most of it, at least. you just don't know how deep it goes. but he will very much make it known in everyday life that he wants you to only be his by his everyday actions.

mercury: he will tell you exactly what you want to hear (when he wants you to do something) OR he will tell you something that he knows will completely devastate you (to basically use it against you to do what he wants). and the thing is, he may not even be cognizant in the fact that he's doing this. it's just inherent.

venus: he's a lovesick lover boy who can get possessive and obsessive under the right corcumstances. if he knows the most intimate parts of you, he can feel like he has some sort of "claim" to you. he literally feeds into these delusions bc deep down, scorpios really want that deeeeep emotional connection, but they dont necessarily feel comfortable offerring up their own selves... that's why they need you to fulfil it.

long story short, in relationships, lee know is very much possessive in relationships. but it is inherent in him. he quite literally doesn't know any other way. BUT there is conflict with his moon, so it does try to put it at a hault sometimes and keep him in check. but at the end of the day, actions beat out intentions.

"you are not going there dressed like that baby. wear it for me instead."

"i didn't think you'd be the type to want to do that... i mean, i didn't think you'd be into that scene."

"you're meant for me. only me. do you understand that?"

"see baby, that's why you need to stay with me. nothing bad will happen to you as long as i'm around, okay?"

#lee know skz #lee know angst #lee know x you #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #lee know #skz minho #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #skz astrology #skz x reader #lee minho angst #lee minho x reader