#PLEASE ask me about evil heartless I beg of you

[theyandereonmyoji]

General Yandere Silver the Hedgehog Headcanons

Well, I’ve been receiving quite a few requests for Silver, so I thought that, before responding any of those, I should post some of my general headcanons (Also sorry about the hiatus, but thankfully I should be free for a long while) TW: implied murder and kidnapping

This sweet, naive hedgehog would take a long time before he realized he felt anything…special towards you. He’s just happy to have friends he can talk to. After all, he can get pretty lonely back in his future, even with how much he wants to make friends and hang out with them, he can’t. However, after a long while, he starts asking himself tons of questions about his behavior. Like why do his eyes wander off to where you are when hanging out with a bunch of your mutual friends, or why does he get so nervous when you two are alone. Whether his feelings towards you are purely platonic or even romantic, he’ll eventually realize how truly intense his feelings are.

His attitude towards you wouldn't change much on a surface level, he’s still the eager, optimistic hedgehog that wears his heart on his sleeves and likes to be around you. Yet, those traits that would make him a lovable dork in most situations, is what ultimately causes him to be rather intense when you two are together. He’s basically like an overgrown puppy, lovable and ultimately doesn’t want to cause you any issues, yet he can be extremely overbearing and not allow you to have any personal space. It doesn’t matter how boring or mundane your activities are for the day, he’s always there, for better or for worse.

If one day you decide that he’s just too intense for you and ask him to please leave you alone for a while, he will give be noticeably sad even if he tries to hide it, but he will leave you alone…for a little while anyways, him lasting a day without you is a miracle, but eventually he’ll beg you for you two to hang out again, swearing that he will try to give you your space, but to please let him be around you again. And honestly you would need to be heartless to say no to the poor guy, he’s just trying his best, can you really stay mad at him for long? From then on, he respects your personal space a bit more, though he does still have his moments where that type of behavior can resurface.

Despite how sweet and caring he is towards you (and towards any of his friends really) He can be quite…serious for a lack of a better term. If he sees anything or anyone that he might consider a threat, well, mercy might not be in his vocabulary that day. Honestly it’s like a on/off switch, one moment he’s being the sweetest cinnamon roll to ever exist towards all of his friends, and even more towards you, the next he’s willing to commit murder for your sake. Trust me when I say you want to stop him before things get messy, if not for the sake of whatever poor fella crossed him that day, at least to have a healthy conscience at the end of that day. After all, Silver sees no reason to hide what he’s willing to do for you

The poor boy gets jealous easily and he’s terrible at hiding it. The thing he’s not terrible at is gaslighting himself though. After all, there’s no way he would ever harm someone innocent, they must be evil in some way, he just knows you’re not safe with them. Pray to whatever god you believe in (or to good luck if you’re not religious, whatever works) that he doesn’t find enough “evidence” to support his claim that your friend is a menace, because once he does, there’s no stopping him. He’s a stubborn one, and in his eyes, it’s not like he’s doing anything wrong. He’s just keeping everyone you safe away from that bastard, but it’s ok now, they’ll be gone soon, so don’t worry about it, ok?

I hope you like gifts, because with Silver you’re going to get a lot of hand-made ones. He wishes nothing more than to make you smile, and he figured out that a good way to do so would be gifts. Baked good, some small crafts, he’ll try to make anything, and while they might not be of the best quality, it’s the intention that counts, and again, you would have to be absolutely heartless to tell him that you don’t like his gifts, especially with those puppy eyes of his. He’s just so happy when you acknowledge all of his hard work to make you happy, he just can’t get enough of your smile, it’s almost like oxygen to him, he just can’t get enough of it. He’s willing to do anything for you, quite literally. 

Silver probably has the least stable breaking point out of everyone, mostly cuz he’s so used to thinking about how everything can go wrong due to his ruined future, that basically anything happening to you is catastrophic in his eyes. You got a scratch? He panics, a fight with someone? Pray they get a quick death. Eventually as things get worse and worse (according to him anyways) he’ll decide that he’s had enough and not let you go anywhere without him, or more accurately, let you go anywhere at all. Reasoning with him is impossible, after all he’s as stubborn as can get, and as much as he loves you, he’s not taking no for an answer, after all it’s all for your sake, so shouldn’t you be happy?

The only possible way I can see you escaping from him is if you somehow gain his trust enough for him to let his guard down, slip up, and give you a chance to peace out…but good luck with that. It isn’t that he wouldn’t trust you, but he’s just incapable of being apart from you, so a moment when you’re alone are too few and far between, I doubt you would even have a proper plan to escape him. In the case you somehow do manage to do so, your freedom won’t last long, he’s really adept with that psychokinesis of his, so the moment he sees you it’s game over. He would try to justify to himself why would you ever want to run away, after all, it’s impossible for him to see what he did wrong, you probably were just anxious, but no need to worry, he will always be there for you

#yandere #yandere sonic the hedgehog #yandere sonic the hedgehog x reader #yandere x reader #sonic the hedgehog #sth #yandere x y/n #yandere headcanons #green tea #yandere silver the hedgehog #yandere silver the hedgehog x reader #yandere silver the hedgehog x y/n

[agent-black-heart]

The Fallen

A look into what happened the night everything went to hell.

“Pfft you sound like a dad-“ Axel was patching up a wound on their shoulder while on the phone with John. The past couple of days have been nothing but hell but in this small moment it was calm. Well calm enough for just being stabbed several times. “Excuse you, we both know I’m not responsible enough to be a father. I’m everyone’s favorite gay uncle. I’m really proud of you, kiddo. Make sure to rinse the wound again before wrapping it. And feel free to just wrap the shoulder, it looked like most of the blood was coming from your leg.” Axel smiles to themself. “Got it. And uh thanks for-“ They’re cut off by a weird murmuring. “Did you hear that?” “Hear what? Shit it’s midnight I need you to keep talking to me, okay Axel? Just ramble about whatever makes you happiest, try to focus on your inner light. Dispel the darkness.” Axel can barley hear John the noice getting louder. It sounds like radio static. The noise makes it harder for them to pay attention to Johns words. They knock the phone down accidentally as they cover their ears the noise not getting blocked out at all. It’s almost as if the noise is in their head. “Fuck…” Their voice is strained and in pain. “Axel please.” Axel can’t hear him. All they can hear is his voice.

“It’s time little Icarus~ Time for you to fall. Open a portal, step into the black. Your time has come.”

“Shit shit shit no I can’t do that no no.”

“Axel, whatever he’s saying, don’t listen to him. You’re a warrior of light, he doesn’t have any, so he wants to take yours. Don’t fucking let him.” But Johns voice doesn’t reach Axel. They can’t hear him over the god and the static.

“Get out of my fucking head.”

“Not until you come to the Black Agent~”

“I’m not going with you.”

“If you don’t go with me then I will take the General.”

“What…?”

“Oh or maybe I can get full control over Wiley! Or both! Then you would be responsible for both of their deaths!!”

“You wouldn’t fucking dare”

“Wouldn’t I? You or them Agent.”

“No.”

John continues talking at them. “I’m proud of you” is all that breaks through.

“If you fucking hurt them.” Their voice drips with hatred as if they could ever possibly make that threat come true.

“I won’t! As long as you get into the black and accept your fate.”

“Please just leave me alone”

“You must not care about your friends Agent. Right as things seemed to look up for them to? You really are a heartless monster.”

Heartless monster. Something they’ve been called many times before. Something they refuse to be again. They pause staring at the wall in front of them wondering if this really is that best option. With a look of determination Axel gets up. The wound on their leg hurts as they walk opening a portal.

“Axel…?” John asks hoping, praying, Axel is

still there.

“I’m sorry.”

Those are Axels last words before they walk through that portal. Leaving John alone on the phone as he begs for them to respond. They don’t all that can be heard is an evil laugh before their phone dies. Leaving John in a PEIP van Wilbur asleep leaning on him and Axel, dying alone. No one could save them.

@hatchetfieldocweek

#hatchetblr #hatchetfield oc #ooc post #hatchetfield oc week

[thegeminisage]

it's time for. SIIIGH. a star trek update. on ummm feb 20 or whatever we did tng's "aquiel" and ds9's "q-less" (SIGH) and i didn't write an update because i was not very excited about those. and then we paused for a week to do natla. and then last night we did tng's "face of the enemy." ok.

aquiel (tng):

what's weird is that of the two episodes we watched that evening i actually did like this one better

that said it DID involve geordi being a little bit of a creep to the not-so-dead-girl though. when he brings up a fact about her he should not know it's JUST like leah brahams. granted it was actually his job this time to watch her diary and he SUPER thought she was dead but still. can you not open with that

i did like geordi taking his visor off though it's always cool when he gets to do that

i knew from the beginning something was Up with the dog but i didnt EXPECT THE DOG TO BE EVIL..................tng writers that is just heartless. not only is the real dog dead but the fake dog got killed too. you killed the dog twice. are you happy? do you feel proud of yourself? i fucking hate this show actually

nevermind idr anything else about this episode and i have now stopped caring

q-less (ds9):

i only found q tolerable ONE TIME. ONE TIME i found him tolerable and that was when he was drooling over picard who did not want to fuck him and it was the funniest thing i'd ever seen and every day i beg them to do it agaiun but they won't. you know who's not in ds9? picard! so get q out of here!!

this felt way too much like a tng episode for my tastes. i decided i don't like that chocolate in that peanut butter.

vash hot though. whew! you slap some crow's feet on a woman and i swoon instantly

vash rubbing ferengi ears like lwaxana troi made me have ptsd flashbacks to the episode with the ha ha funny rape. no fucking thank you

honestly, does sisko need to be dealing with picard's past lays and guy who wishes he could be a present lay? picard killed his wife. give the man a break

that said i DO think q and vash were fucking purely because that's as close as q can get to fucking picard. disgusting.

anyway 0/10 except for vash's wrinkles

face of the enemy (tng):

THEY MENTIONED SPOCK IN THIS EPISODE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! boy i sure sat up straight fast

deanna racefaking as a romulan AGAINST HER WILL...could they not have just asked. could they not have asked like literally ANYBODY. like she was so underprepared. that said i loved that she actually got to do stuff

the fucking guy in this was tosk or whoever from ds9...he looked SO familiar but i feel like i know him from somewhere else too

my fav part of this ep besides the spock mentions of course was the fact that the romulan commander deanna was up against seemed like a genuinely good person who had been hurt by the empire. like deanna was very much the bad guy here. imagine if some starfleet bigwig took kirk's ship away and used it to kill 18 people, you know? the outside pov vibe was kind of a slay actually

kind of a bummer to do all this angsting about romulus and helping the defectors and everything when quite literally it's gonna blow up in like...what, less than 20 years now, right? yeah. i mean if a romulan had a baby right now that baby wouldn't even live to be old enough to drink. obviously they had no idea when they were making all this but it's THAT VERY FACT that kind of makes me fucking nuts. please smuggle more people out of there. get them out now while you can. but they don't know. and it's not dramatic irony that they don't know like in real life nobody making this KNOWS. AAAAAAA

TONIGHT: ds9's "dax" and tng's "tapestry."

#personal #star trek blogging #tng lb #ds9 lb

[ladyxyliaenchantria]

The Cursed Twin

The story started a thousand years ago, there was a mighty empire name "Sapientia". The empire was blessed with a pair of twins named Elysian Lilianna Sapientia and Pandora Persephone Sapientia. The two of them thought their bonds as a sister would go against any odds, however, they were separated at a young age to be trained by different masters so that they can master the magic better. Pandora was trained by a fox tribe since she was so tricky and quite Witty while Elysian were trained by a cat tribe since she is far more curious and laid back. Elysian who finished her studies earlier returned to the empire first and was made an Empress as their father died due to illness. She was a wonderful empress who lead with pride and spread kindness everywhere she went yet most of her people hate her and visited the God Of Calamity, a curse was set on her and the kind empress turn into someone evil, heartless and ruled by an iron fist. Her peoples suffer the curse together with no way to end it. Hundreds of years later, Pandora has returned to her homeland. She was devastated and shocked at how much Sapient Empire change.

Thankfully for her, some of the old people there tell her about how Elysian was cursed by the God Of Calamity because of her people who have hatred for the girl. Rage arises from inside her, how could people be so heartless and cursed a girl that was so kind? With bravery and determination, Pandora gathers a troupe. She led the rebellion against her sister. The only hope she have was to save her from the curse. Days turn weeks and weeks turn to months, Pandora finally arrives at the castle. She met her sister again after all those years they were apart.

"Elysian, how could you do this our people!? Why did you take the curse?!" She asked her in pure rage. Elysian let out a laugh that echoes through the hallway. She gets down from the throne and walked to Pandora.

"Pandora, my beloved sister. Can you see that I'm myself, ?!" She says sweetly before turning to a loud tone and attacking Pandora. Pandora knows she has no choice but to kill her. A couple of moments later, Elysian was already on her knees.

"Forgive me my sunflower, I'm returning too late. The one who should take this curse was me not you. If there is a chance we were born again, I still wanna be your sister and protect you from all this hatred." She says holding Elysian's face. Tears make their way down her face. Elysian eyes turn back to her normal eyes.

"Please...kill me" Elysian begged. Obeying her sister's request. She used her sword and slashed at Elysian's neck, blood coming out of it as Elysian take her last breath. Pandora hugged her sister's body and let out a piercing cry. Not long after, the knight comes in and saw the two sisters together.

"Pandora has died. She disguised as me and ruled as a tyrant. My beloved Sapientians! We have won the wars and from today onward there would be no empires or empires or emperors ruling this place. Freedom should always win." Pandora lied to them. The people's cheers echo through the castle wall and beyond.

10 nights after that, Sapientia Empire has been rebuilt with no rulers to rule over it. Everything has gone back to how it was. Pandora takes a seat next to Elysian's grave as she looks at the night sky.

"I hope you're happy there, Ely. You are now known as Lady Of Peace while I'm known for being Lady Of Chaos. I met your master too, she is quite hard to follow, isn't she?." Pandora speak and laughed to her own. She talks there for hours as if she talking with Elysian.

Pandora takes the identity of Elysian and keeps being one of the people of Sapientia who protected her homeland. On her last day, she created two schools at the remains of what was once the Empire now an island. Pandora Night Academy, The Allies of Chaos and Elysian Dawn Academy, The Protector of Mankind. The Empire is now known as the Isle Of Sapient.

"Lilith, please protect and watch over the students of Pandora as you, Belian protect and watch over students of Elysian...Hello there...Elysian."

"This was the story of Pandora and Elysian the founder of Pandora Night College and Elysian Dawn Academy. The next time we meet, I'll tell you guys a story about how Pandora Night College and Elysian Dawn Academy got their dormitory and sponsors." Xylia says as she closes the book in her, her ebony black eyes looking at the pairs in front of her. A cat with fiery blue ears looked at her impatiently.

"Eh?! That's all? Ore-Sama want to hear more about!" The cat say in dissatisfaction.

"Grim, Didn't you say that story telling is for kids?" A boy with blonde hair and pinkish highlights teased the so called "Grimm"

"SHUT UP"Grim yelled in embarrassment. A laugh escapes Xylia's mouth as she disappeared back to her dormitory.

"What a great pair of friends."

#twisted wonderland #twistedwonderlandfanschool #ElysianDawnAcademy #PandoraNightAcademy #fanfic #LadyXylia #Twst OC

[localvoidcat]

bitches really look at heartless and go "is anybody going to make his past be evil and angsty" and don't wait for an answer

#it's me I'm bitches #cursing tw #swearing tw #PLEASE ask me about evil heartless I beg of you #caps tw #abd illustrates #abd illustrates heartless #heartless

[astromaki]

part 2 of 5000 $ - shoto todoroki x fem!reader (1597 words)

part 1. (previous)

tw ; minors dni, angst, nsfw, toxic relationship, mention of cheating and breakup, shoto is a complete bastard here

you finally did it.

you broke up with him a week ago. for real this time, not like the last hundred times you'd yelled at him that he was a heartless jerk. just so he could get you into bed the second you calmed down.

no, you threw him in the trash the day after that party. by message, but it was a start.

even your social media status had gone from 'in a relationship' to 'single <3', you'd even reinstalled tinder, and accepted follow requests on instagram from those boys in the same class as you in college.

and shoto seemed to have abandoned you too. no news from him, and you hadn't even run into him on campus in the last few days.

so why did it still hurt to think about him ? why did your lips refuse to say his name ? and why the fuck did your sheets still smell like him despite the many machines ?

so you could tell that you felt a little joy when you saw this message.

he had sent you this two days ago.

and it's been two days, you've been wondering if it was a good idea to see him again right away.

never mind, you were already at his door. besides, you didn't have to talk to him, just take back what belonged to you and go home. it couldn't go wrong ? right ? it's ridiculous, you even had to convince yourself now.

you knocked, once, twice, three times. you could hear someone inside. and you knew he didn't have a roommate. this rich kid could buy the whole building if he wanted.

fuck. you just had to go in and get your stuff, and it's like you were never there. he wouldn't notice you were there.

you opened the door, and were surprised to see a second pair of shoes at the entrance next to shoto's sneakers. which is more like a pair of rather feminine shoes, pumps.

a strange feeling made you shiver. it wasn't like you to track down your exes, but you don't remember seeing a new girl with shoto on social medias.

slight, imperceptible sighs escaped from his room a little further into the apartment. bed squeaks, that male growl you knew all too well.

fuck. fucking hell.

you knew what it was, you knew what those noises were, who was causing them. why he had asked you to come and get those so-called forgotten things.

and yet you still walked to his room, your brain screaming at you to turn around and stay away from that boy and his unmitigated evil. your heart telling you the opposite, to keep going to find out if he still cared about you. no matter how small, you wanted to know, you had to know, if you ever meant anything to him.

or if you were just a joke, that he could throw a little money around.

"shoto, fuck, yes, right there oh fuc-"

you felt tears welling up in your eyes when you finally saw shoto vulgarly fucking a girl in that room, where you used to spend all your evenings.

but that wasn't the worst part. it was that he had taken your best friend to bed, ochako.

"you're so fucking good, i -" he says in a low voice.

he had already created that crack in your heart. but now ?

his blue and gray eyes finally met yours, his gaze was nothing but arrogance and contempt. the only things he ever felt for you. and even though he was fucking your best friend, busy pacing back and forth, he had the nerve to look you up and down. a smirk lit up his face.

and that asshole finally said the three words he never disdained to say to you.

"i love you ochako," he finally said, looking you straight in the eye. you're the best sex i've ever had. "

his words were spoken clearly, slowly, so that they were articulate for you to hear. a mixture of anger, and sorrow suddenly overtook you

as if you had come back to reality, you suddenly left the room. your steps were disordered, you had lost all your balance, gravity seemed to be slightly stronger. your hands dropped some objects on your way.

what was wrong with you? why?

ochako had finally noticed you after her orgasm, and weakly called out your name, as if begging you to come back would make things better. that he was cheating on you was one thing, but with her ? the one who had pushed you to leave him?

you could hear heavy footsteps following you down the hallway to the front door. and a muscular hand grabbed your wrist to turn you around in one simple motion.

obviously, who else ?

"so you just walk into people's houses without knocking now?"

wow, how did he manage to make you hate him a little more every time he opened his mouth ?

"stop it. don't mess with me. you sent me a message to come in today to get my stuff." your voice was firm.

his face was as haughty as ever, yet he already seemed a little more natural and relaxed than the other times. you would have found it attractive if it wasn't after a romp with your best friend.

"ah, that's right. and so it's okay? you got everything? "

his deceptively kind voice made you want to scream. to take anything and throw it at him. he still had this annoying habit of driving you crazy even after you'd broken up. you wanted to hurt him like he'd been hurting you for months.

but your shaky, broken voice didn't reflect your desires. you were about to cry.

"i don't understand why? why you're being so mean to me. i'm not stupid, shoto, i know that you invited me here today just to see you fuck her."

his face hadn't changed, nor had his eyes. he was glaring at you miserably. as usual.

"i was hoping we could talk if i came to your door so we could maybe work things out, get off to a good start." and it's true, that message he sent you had falsely given you false hope. and you had fallen off the deep end.

a slight sigh escaped his lips. that slight sigh that made the cup overflow.

"why do you care ? we broke up, right ?"he said it in such a carefree tone.

"fuk you shoto. fuck you. you don't even realize how fucking toxic you are! you throw money around to get what you want, you fuck with people and play with their feelings! you're a fucking asshole. and you're a lot like your father for someone who hates him deeply. "

your words of hatred and anger that you had been building up for weeks, for fucking months, poured out on him like a lava flow.

it was mean, it was sincere, and it hurt shoto. it hurt him to see that he had done too much this tim.

his emotionless gaze watched you get angry, cry, push him, hit him, dry your tears that he couldn't tell if they were of melancholy or rage. he saw you push his hand away as he tried desperately to calm you down.

you couldn't see it, too busy screaming and drying your tears, but you managed to wring a sincere expression from shoto.

he was just panicking. he was panicking because he knew he had crossed the point of no return. that not even $5,000 or $10,000 or even $50,000 would bring you back.

his love, full of flaws, who never knew a healthy role model from his parents, would not be enough to make you stay. not to leave him alone.

because we know the cliché, the rich boy who didn't know how to love. didn't even know how to make the one person who always cared about his own selfish self, stay. but that was shoto though. he was that boy who only had toxic love to give.

but please don't leave him for good, he was begging you mentally.

if he had put his pride aside to express himself or even make you understand, maybe you wouldn't have left.

"i hate you shoto todoroki. i fucking hate you. but know that you'll end up alone, you and your stupid money. and i'll be the first to laugh. "

fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck.

" i- y/n just wait- "

he didn't think you'd hate him so much. the young man knew he was just an asshole with a fat bank account. he just thought that by fucking your best friend he'd get you to come back to him, out of desperation, out of a desperate love.

he didn't think he would feel such a pressure on his chest when he saw you slam the door, leaving him alone in the apartment with your best friend and a big hole in his heart.

he didn't think he'd regret his actions. he was a rich guy who always wanted what he wanted, whether it was money or sex. so you were easy. right ?

he never imagined that he would miss your perfume, your exasperating smiles, that he would miss you.

you were barely gone, and he knew he would miss you.

a/n ; i've never written such a nasty shoto sorry 😟 kinda want to leave this story like this...

please lemme know what you thought about this second part, should i make a third one ? (+ reblogs are appreciated <3)

🔖 taglist; @deepestranchgoopdeputy @kizuatonoaiko

#bnha x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #shoto todoroki x you #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x y/n #shoto x you #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki angst #shoto smut #shoto torodoki #todoroki x y/n #todoroki shoto x you

[muffindaddystyles]

Tell me you love me, before I go.

A/N: A very short smutty writing I had in my swirling whole night, which unapologetically I ended up writing in the wee hours of dark.

Summary: Harry and Y/N are rivals -- very passive aggressive enemies. When on a mission Y/N breaks into his room he had no choice but to punish her.

AU: Rivals to lovers, dark sci-fi, angry rough sex, spanking and spitting, reassurance kink and unrequited love.

A war between two groups. Left one with nothing but a tech base and other with almost everything. So the Arsonists raid the Phantoms' buildings to steal food items and necessary fuels for their people since they're mostly unarmed due to lack of weapons they try to use their brain as much as possible. 

Y/N works in one of the tech bases of Arsonists and right now she's standing with her five more mates trying to figure out how to break through these large gates of the villain's building, one of his most strong headquarters. 

They've to collect some data before another truck of fuel arrives for Phantoms next Wednesday so they could have access to it without doing much effort. 

Once sneaking in successfully because the two guards were too muddled in gossiping their arsess about their maiden. The building's nothing too extravagant, sleek and able to live, dimmed to an unpleasant light indicating everyone inside it is sleeping. 

She barges into the villain's room easily and almost had all the information in her hands from his drawers when the door to the room banged close, startling her at spot and the frames of her glasses fell on the carpeted floor. 

"Shit." 

"D'ya think cursing would take ye' out of here? if so you're down bad" Her heart sinks in when his cold insensate voice booms within the walls — a heavy boot comes crushing her glasses, again and again mercilessly. 

Her blood boils. Because, what the fuck. Doesn't he have any manners? 

"Do you think I need my glasses to punch the shit out of you, you prick!!" She pounced at him, almost breaking his nose into a splitted eiffel tower but he dodged it, twisting her wrists at her back and snatching the files from her sneering menacingly —- letting her painful grunts fly over his head without any remorse. 

"Well, well." She yelps when he tightens his grip angrily, "Look what cat dragged in come little mousey we're going to have some fun." She didn't know until now that someone could be this strong as he puts her in a chair like a rag doll binding her with no escape out. 

She tries to squirm and wriggle her butt out but he just tuts standing tall and evil in front of her, she rakes her gaze slowly up to his tanned biceps and clavicles popping from underneath his flimsy shirt, matted curls grazing his shoulders. 

"Oh no, trust me sweetheart, you're going to want to stay strapped in here. We're going to find out how many times an Arsonist can break –- and for the fact my people will kill you on the spot if you step out of my room." Shiver runs down her body from fear and he chuckles, flopping onto the edge of his bed, man spreading, leaning onto the heels of his palms behind him. 

"You're pathetic!" She spits out. Full of venom. 

"Pfft, a thief telling me that 'm pathetic." He shakes his head and she's despising his audacity as if he rules the world. She could kick him square in his sexy face but the thing's she's bound to this damn uncomfy chair. 

"Atleast, I don't go on killing people." She grumps and it's like she pushed a button when his irises turn pitch dark. Her eyes widen in astonishment, reeking with fear when he leaves his spot in a thunder striding towards her furiously and drags the chair closer to him, almost lifting it inches above floor. 

The next thing she knows that a gun is resting against her temple ready to be fired, "Ye' really that desperate fo' me to prove it to you, huh?" He growls, hooded gaze following the gun that's sliding down her cheek and the way her breath wavers —- lips trembles, nose twitches he knows he's fucked. 

"Will it hurt?" If she's going to die it better be an easy way. 

His eyes soften at that. Taking in the rosy features of her, the plushiness and squishiness of her skin that his fingers feels like dipping into cream. The women of Phantom aren't like this; they're built differently to fight and kill who wrongs them -- they're almost heartless at this point. 

"Dunno, You'll get to know after taking one." He shrugs like it's not a biggie tipping her chin with the gun's pointer and her eyelids slip shuts. She couldn't cry. Even her dead body wouldn't forgive her if she would cry infront of her worst enemy for the last time. 

"I hate you, Harry. I'd never ever forgive you for kidnapping my cat when we were small." There she said it. If she's gonna die soon she better let it off her chest. Before it could hit him right in the wound he builds a shield fast arguing back with a stoic chuckle. 

"Guilt tripping wouldn't help, darling." He tuts patting her cheek with the gun's barrel —- funny case it's empty of bullets. He just shooted all of them whilst doing target practice. 

"Fuck you." She yells. 

"It'd take much more action than just undressing me naked with your bare eyes." He squeaks dramatically. Stepping away and pouts when she huffs trying to kick her feet in his direction. 

"Not my fault that you're a perv." 

He pouts feigning fake disappointment putting a hand on his chest, "You're such a grudge holder." 

"Think about 10 ways to fuck me until then 'm heading to make amends for you -- see what they offer in return of their precious nerd." He smirks, it's sad such a gorgeous face could be such evil she thinks. 

// 

When he comes back she's fallen asleep from getting tired and exhausted being trapped in the same spot for hours, "Sorry, peaches but they don't want you back –- even told me to kill you if that what it ta —- oooh" He halts in his tracks closing the door behind him quietly not to wake her up and pads softly towards her, putting her dangling head back gently in a comfortable position and tucks a strand of her hair that's tickling her nose behind her ear. 

You're not supposed to act that way with your enemy, you FUCKER. 

His brain screams but his heart says otherwise. 

She has changed. She never cries anymore. Everytime they kidnapped her or she ended up being caught from his henchmen —- she'd always need company to make her feel less frightened from the hollowness of their buildings, would cry when they'd lock her up in dark rooms. 

It's awfully hurtful how once bestfriends turns into rivals just because of a conflict that ruined their and their families lives. 

She has been doing all of this for people who doesn't even care about her. They're using her and many others like her to build a nuclear power plant so they could become intimidating. 

He retires to sleep. Debating in his sleep whether he should just free her and tell her to sleep in one of the rooms of the buildings but soon the possibilities died when he was high in his slumber. 

// 

He groans, knuckling the sleepiness away from his eyes. He woke up from loud the thumping and found Y/N trying to break the door knob, he winces covering his ears when she screams watching him lunge towards her in rush. 

His chocolate curls bouncing atop his head. His emerald eyes speaking with morning's gold and lips ripe like cherry. His brows kinked in annoyance and expression pinched in rage. 

"You're confident." He rasps out in his morning husk and slams his hands on either side of her head trapping, cornering her between him and the wall.

"Did you really think it was going to be this easy." He nothing but purres, pushing her against the door. She gasps abruptly aware of their height differences moreso the radiation of power he daunts that she ignored her whole life. 

"Hmm." He hummed. Eyes black with intimidation burning her under the intensity of it, he keeps his focus on her, smirking. "It suits you. This trying to fight me, desperation is a beautiful look on you." 

"Fuck you." 

"I mean if, ask nicely." His smile is sweetly honey and lethal if you ask me. 

She glares at him with blazing daggers, "This isn't the way you make people love you." Her chest heaving with his heat close to her and his scent enveloping her. 

"Love?" He laughs fondly even, crinkled forming by his eyes and he breathes out when she hovers her dry lips over his's, "Sweet thing this isn't about love — if ye ask me far from that." He's lying. He's full of bullshit. 

"And yet you don't touch me or hurt me." She squints her eyes up at him wrecking her brain how to slip away from his hold, "If you beg so." He simpers awfully lewd for her. Sure as rock for what he said with his whole chest. 

"Come get me then!" She trips him aside and rushes for the door when he pushes her into it tightening his hand around her throat, it's aching him to tell her the truth but he wants to let her know her worth. He rests his forehead against her's muttering a rumble deep within his chest, "They don't want you Y/N." Her windpipes squeezes painfully. The statement punching her lungs. Tears springing in her eyes. 

"You're lying!!" She looks up at him shattered and desperate. 

He caresses his knuckles against her tear stained cheek, "Shh, shh baby I'll always want you even if they don't — " He jerks back when she blows hit at his brawny chest yelling at him. 

"It's because of you!! You, you, you." He sighs. Grabbing her wrists and pining them above her head, "Shut up, please." His chillness irks her more and she nips at him feastly. 

"Make me." So he does. When her eyes drift up at his determined ones it takes her breath away and she knew it was over for her. 

His lips catches her's in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. Nothing gentle mind mushing about it rather pricking needles into her skin with the severeness of it. She feels the door rattling against her back when he shifts, pushing her against it with his hips, every thought of her exploding into white noise of want and lust. The dark curl of desire twisting in her stomach and pearling sweat on her neck. With the last thread of restraint in herself she tries to pull away. 

"No." He says bringing her lips back to his's. Cupping her cheeks to deepen the kiss and it's ardent as before not loosing it's spark, she slips her hands under his shirt — pulling him closer and the low groan at the back of his throat, a small pleading noise of want sets her skin on fire. 

"Fuck me."  She mewls. Trying to latch on his body like a kitten with it's dainty paws. 

He glides his clammy palms down her bum and grabs her thighs wrapping them around his waist. Not breaking the kiss but tasting ever dulcet corners of her mouth and creating heavenly noises. 

The next thing they know she's crawling back with the help of her bum to settle in the nest of pillows and he's fumbling with his belt buckle quite aggressively, she tugs the hem of his shirt down not satiated enough from having his lips on her and meanders her fingers in his hair to pull at them roughly in order to flush her chest up against his's.

"Never thought your sheets would have smelled other than sex." Because, genuinely. They smell that of fresh mint and roses. 

"So, you think of me doing dirty on this bed you're laying at the moment?" He asks mock and degradation evident in his tone, "D'ya get wet dreamin' 'bout me railin' ye' to death?" He grazes his teeth along her jaw and sucks at her earlobe counting in her silence. 

"Shut up." She gasps, probably from the abrupt press of his bulge against the inside of her thigh. 

"Make me then." He growls. Fisting the hem of her hoodie and pulls it over her head throwing it among his skinny jeans. Her head falls back and lips tremble from the effect of slap he landed at her outer thigh —-- she knows she can't shut him.

Though he knows that her single command and he'd be at his knees for her. 

When she clings to him for dear life and whimpers in his ear softly, his eyes widen in realization and he leans away to watch her expressions diffuse into manifold emotions. His nose scrunches up and he holds back his cooes for her. 

She's a subby. A cute one. 

Her eyes blink open to the sight of him out of his boxers and it waters her mouth —- her mind manipulating her to lunge forward and take his heavy member in her palm to give a good suck to his shiny crimson head. 

Down her throat. Nestle her nose against the trim patch of hair under his balls. 

"Like what y'see, doll?" He highers his chin quite smug about her staring and she hates him for that, "Pretty cocky for someone who likes staring at his enemy's tits." Her voice groggy. She wheezes a squeak through her nose when Harry pulls his shirt over his head revealing toned pecs and abs -- skin sewn with tats. 

Unfortunately, she doesn't get to stare at it for longer when that shirt comes wrapping around her eyes blocking her sight. 

He can never let her have nice things would he?

"Wanted to gag your mouth with it … but I'd rather love hearing you moan fo' daddy." He nips at her collarbones -- sucking it harshly to leave a prominent mark. His calloused hand rubs over her tummy smiling against her skin when she jolts and lets a little squeal slip. 

His cock drips precome at her tummy and her breath shudders into heavy pants when the tip of his cock dipped in her belly button nudging it. 

"Ha —- " He glides his sticky head down her happy trail and slips his large palm into her panties cupping her with his middle finger teasing her entrance, "Couldn't hear you!" He ducks down to put his ear near her lips and drums the pads of his digits against her cheek. 

She huffs and squirms for a second then moans breathily when he spanks the side of her hip leaving a sting, "Oh my god, daddy." His grin victorious and he lowers down to smudge his lips against her parted ones -- kissing her tongue and humming around it. 

She's somewhere it's hard to configure out, in between paradise and wonderland. 

"Tell me princess, what d'I do with you in your filthy dreams?" He grabs her jaw patching gentle pecks against her lips and he slops his finger into her throbbing pussy, "Fuckin' drippin' down ye' bum fo' me." She cries out trying to hook her thigh around him but he hisses slapping her cunt hardly -- turning her into a thrashing mess. She's trying hard to suppress the bitter-sweet sensation of her own body getting out of control and her glistening pussy lips flutter erratically creating sloppy noises. 

She squirts drenching the sheets underneath them and her panties. 

He slides his arm under her arching back pushing her up against his chest with a jerk, "Daddy's askin' you somethin'." He grits, propping his knee in between her thighs to rub it against her soaking centre. 

She gulps, licking her dry lips, "You–your rings … ah!" Her whimpers are muffled against his chest and he twists his thumb in tight circles to smear her wetness from her slit to clitoris, "What 'bout them, doll?" 

How does she tell him she liked what he did earlier. 

"Daddy, please … " She whines blindly searching for his face but he grips her wrists in his one hand and groans, "How's daddy gonna make you feel good when you don't tell him, pet?" He takes a kitten lick of her perky nipple. Teasing her areola with the tip of his cold tongue against her warm sweaty body —- he laps at it hungrily then creates a suckling noises, the noises, his slobbery tongue on her body, his fingers curled inside her pussy and the thick humidity is too overwhelming, she feels like fainting. 

She wants him, inside her needy pussy. 

She can't take the teasing anymore. 

"Spanking! I – I liked it when you did it, please." He kisses her nipple for the last time before smashing his mouth against her's in a fervent sinfulness and parts away with a smooching noise to sit back on his heels, "It wasn't that hard was it? Just a word and I could give you my whole world." The sincerity in his voice makes her want to hug him and kiss him for lifetime but for now he has other plans as he rips her panties away moaning obscenely gruff at the sight of her pussy weeping for him to pound his cock inside her, so ready and full of dripping honeyed wetness  for him. 

"Your safe word is clouds." He whispers in her ear. He knows her limits and her resistance but by any chance he'd cross it he'd never forgive himself, "What's it?" He asks and she says in wavering, "Clouds." 

"Atta girl." He pets her cheek. 

Her nail scratches the side of his hands that are pinning her down when he spits on her already damp cunt, a loud noise resonates along with her needy cries when his free hand adorned in jewels came spanking her pussy and her pelvis remains lifted in air bathing in the sting of metal and the throb rattling in her whole core. 

"This's what you wanted?" He kisses his teeth slapping her slick clit again and again, "To be roughed up by daddy, hmm." She bobs her head squirming and wriggling. Her words struck in her throat. 

"To be manhandled." He hums a growlish moan tasting his own fingers coated in her juices, "I'll show you what being manhandled really feels like." He promises her. She gasps a sweet yelp when he flips her over and throws her bum up.

His cock rubbing against her thigh and her heartbeat fastens, anticipating something, crimping the sheets in her fists and mewls into the mattress when he spanks her ass loving the way it jiggles stroking it afterwards to subside the burn down before landing another brutal one. 

She bolts her eyes shut throwing back her hips at him and he lays all the way over her back pushing her down on the bed, her cum trickling down the inside of her thigh, "Want daddy's cock?" He asks. Slicking the head of his prick up and down her asshole and slit. 

When she nods vigorously he bumps it in furious circles against her swollen bundle of nerves, "Then beg fo' it," He says intimidatingly and she doesn't waste a second before blabbering shamelessly. 

"Daddy … please I want your massive cock inside me, all of it." In her entire lifetime -- she never once uttered these kind of words. 

His heart mushes into a puddle seeing her a babbling mess and grabby hands for him, he kisses her gently speaking to her with foremost affectionate, "shh, shh moppet. You could have it anytime you want it, daddy's g'na fill you to rim with his cum and make you keep it there for hours with his prick still snug inside your little pussy, just made for him, c'mere...yeah just like that." He lays her back gently that her front is facing him now and wraps his hand around her calve raising it and pushing it against her chest firmly.

A series of pornographic moans and whimpers echoes in his bedroom when he seathes inside her slowly stretching her out in by inch leaving a burn behind her pulsating walls, their breath laboured breaths mingling, "Fuck you're so warm baby —-- hugging daddy's cock so good." He whines looking down where they're connected and knotted. His stomach twists and turns, his hips stiffens and he resists from pushing inside her when she's not ready but her milking him with her wetness isn't doing him any mercy too. 

She gropes his ass, nudging him to move and their teeths clanks, temples falls against eachother and lips whisper prayers of their unrequited love when he pulls all the way back to pound back inside her roughly. 

"You're daddy's good girl, making him feel so good. I want to keep you to myself. all of you and cherish you, make love to you, w'na mark you however I want." He groans eyes rolling back under his closed lids grinding his hips against her's in rhythmic pleasuring motions to give her clit stimulations and she cries out feeling another bursting orgasm bubbling in her tummy. 

"'M gonna cum, daddy!" She tugs at his roots and he drives more maniacly inside her, "Squirt around daddy's cock pet, so your pussy could swallow it deeper inside you." The headboard of bed hits against the wall vigorously and she digs her heels deeper into the dimples at his back moaning at the top of her lungs when she gushes all over his dick making more squelching, soapy, dirty noises of him raming inside her. 

She desires for more. 

She has become one little insatiable thing. 

His balls smacks against her bum and his thursts turn faster to chase his high, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He curses nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and keeps his hand around his throat with the slight pressure of claimation. 

"Come fo' me again." He spanks her ass and she clamps shut down at him pushing him to the edge of ecstasy, "Squeezing me so tight -- gimme more, I know you can princess." Her legs tremble around his waist when she crampies around him and his cock's head strokes against her sweet spot doing wonders to just topple her off real quick. 

"Daddy!" She feels floaty and foggy head coming on his cock for the many times she has forgotten. Her mind blocking out even the weak shuddering whimpers and beaten moans of Harry as he reaches his orgasm unloading inside her -- his cum sticking thickly to her walls and some of it oozing outside of her pussy hole but he pumps it back with lazy strokes. 

He lifts his smushed face from the dip of her neck, his own curls sweaty against the nape of his neck and he smoothes his palms down her sides to calm her, his lips brushing featherly against the corner of her mouth as she keeps on blabbering something. 

When he tries to pull out gently she cries out pawing at his shoulders, "Daddy no!" He caresses her sweaty hair back and gets rid of her blindfold, pecking her nose sweetly. 

He wants to take care of her. He yearned to have her like this for years. He has to bring her back from her sub-space before it's too late. 

"It's no daddy anymore, petal. I'll crush you in this position — " Carefully he tries to retreat but stop when she says in a very dejected feeble voice, bottom lip wobbling and tears springing at the corners of her eyes, "You don't want me too?" OH NO. This's what Harry was afraid about. A breakdown. He saw the storm coming but didn't know it could be this worst right when she's in her sub-space. 

His face pales at that. His state in frenzy and panic. 

"No bubba. I want you my precious girl -- s'just you're gonna get tired like this, hmm. 'N I have so much to show you and make you meet new people -- couldn't have me baby walkin' on her wobbly legs for whole day could I?" He cups her cheeks tenderly and smiles down at her warmly smothering her in devoted kisses. 

"Promise, daddy?" She sniffles staring up at him with doe innocent eyes and he shakes his head, "Harry sweet angel, come back to me moppet." He keeps his gaze locked with her's, gliding his thumb delicately against her cheeks and seals his promise with a kiss. 

"Promise."��

She lets him pull out and he shushes her wrecked whimpers with his lips. Falling to side with a large puff of breather and embraces her with his arm slinged around her shoulders protectively and she hides her face in his chest, mumbling incoherent things and he tries to stay with her emotionally and physically much as possible -- assuring her and soothing her with his sweet nothings. 

"Harry." She whispers softly and his ears perks up at that looking down at her with most loving eyes, "Hi baby." He giggles quietly kissing the tip of her nose and she sniffs cuddling into him. 

"Sorry —- " He shakes his head pinching her chin to make her look up. 

"You don't have to darling -- s'okay, everything's alright." After, making sure she's okay and giving her million re-assurances because he loves to he cleaned her with a damp wash rag. 

"Such a pretty babe." He makes her blush treating her as if she's a china glass doll who'd break at his slightest poke and showers her in praises and kisses because dunno who got her self-esteem and confidence like that but that person sure needs to get punched in their face. 

"Did I hurt you?" He asks tenderly applying a thin layer of cream on her red imprints. She shakes her intervining her fingers into his's one by one and kisses his knuckle, "No." 

"Good." He chuckles as if he was holding his breath. 

"How bout you take a lil nap and I see if I could bring us some brekkie, hmm?" He's gonna break his own rule. Taking food from mess area to your rooms and taking long showers was never allowed, having lights on after 12 because of the risk of attacks. 

"'M not hungry, please stay." Her eyes half open and her face buried into his scented pillow, "Dunno. But to me you look like y'could faint any time soon." He says sternly pulling a snugly clean duvet over her body. 

"Okie but come back quick." 

"Don't worry. In a snap I'll be infront of you." 

//

It's her fourth day here. She came out of his room to socialize just a day before and she realized from the nasty glowers thrown her way that not a single person likes her. 

But it felt like spending a lifespan with Harry. To fill the emptiness of all those moments of their childhood together they lost once after the war. 

She got to know he's the best cuddler and likes to be a small spoon, she loves to jetpack him. He seems rather scary and is scary when he's commanding people off -- they wouldn't dare but to speak a word over him but he's this big softie Y/N likes to squish in their privacy. 

He got her glasses fixed and put them over her nose with a mishevious kiss, she was unable to not to grin when he murmered against her lips, "Now you could punch me with your glasses on." 

"Seems like I don't have to do that anymore." She shrugged squealing afterwards when he threw her over his shoulder tickling her till all she coul see was him and stars. 

It was all going on track until now when she was passing through the lobby to go to Harry who's practicing out in field, "What are you doing here Alex?" She asks angrily grabbing his arm and he tells her feeling relieved she's okay, "I'm here to take you back." 

"But they don't want me back." She grits, he catches her wrist pleading her sadly, "We want you back -- Nia waits for you daily." Nia is his five years daughter. 

"I know that … but — " How she's gonna tell him she's in love with one person they despise with their whole hearts. 

"But what — "

"Alex!!" He was in the midst when she sees a bullet approaching his way from the side of his shoulder and screeches loudly pushing him aside, the bullet makes it's home in her chest. 

It was fired from Harry's gun with his own hands that were loving on her an hour ago. Life drains out of his body and he feels sickness approaching to split his throat, knees turning weak as he stares his shaking hand in horror. 

Before, he could do anything another bullet hits Y/N in shoulder knocking her to floor and this time it was one of his people, the shot was fired on instinct. 

"Put your gun down!!" He shouts at him shoving him away with a single forceful push and strides towards where the love of his life's laying in a pool of blood. 

He pulls his hair maniacly, falling to his knees and pulls her up in his lap cradling her head gently to press his lips against her forehead, "No,no,no,no baby." He sobs wiping his tears away harshly to see her properly. 

"Ouch. It actually hurts." She gives him a frail smile raising her shaky hand to cup his cheek. 

Will it hurt? 

You'll get to know after taking one. 

He wishes he could takes his words back. 

"You'll be fine, you're okay, 'm so so sorry moppet. Didn't-- didn't know y'were standing behind him, bu –-- but s'...s'okay yeah —-- call the doctor!! Why nobody has called him yet!!!" His scream thunders aggressively as everyone watches  their commander this defenceless and vulnerable infront of them for the first time in shock. 

"It's not your fault, okay?" She manages to speak groaning and eyes rolling back from pain residing in her bones torturesly, he cries out like a wounded puppy patting her cheek to keep her awake, "Please stay with me baby, please." Her chest tightens. His chest tightens from the fear of loosing her and he stands up carrying her bridal style tumbling his way on wobbly legs towards the medical ward in the building. 

His tears shiny droplets on her skin and she nuzzles into his fragrance for the last time. 

"There was no happy ending to this," She murmurs. Any, sign of life fading from inside her and replacing her eyes with stoness.

He brings her closer to himself, "hey, hey now none of that -- you're not leaving. 'M not letting you leave." He kicks open the door and lays her limp body on the stretcher. Snapping his head outrageously in every direction to find any doctor but none and drags his palms down his teary face.

He couldn't stop crying.

He's loosing the sunlight of his bleak life he must protect her at all costs.

But, life's prize is something that would have him selling all of what he had worked for and still he'd be unable to even bring her back from cold dark earth.

"Shit. Shit ---– I'll patch you up myself. I know how to take a bullet out — " He creates a ruckus around to collect stuff, "Harry! Harry! listen to me." but her hollow anguish calls for him breaks him at last. 

"How about you spend these last few minutes with me because 'm really 'bout to die commander." She tries to keep her anxious voice cheery but fails drastically coughing blood, "Don't say that baby -- I just got you, don't leave me, don't make me hate myself again." Sad tears trickles down her cheeks and he feels like fainting imagining the pain, agony and fear she's suffering from. 

She's hating to leave him.

"Maybe in afterlife, we could have a nice homely house, long warm baths and two smol kittens —- and oh I forgive you for kidnapping my cat." She admires him for the last time wiping his tears away and tries to lift his head that's lowered into shame. 

She's so fond of him at the moment.

She gulps, trying to gasp for oxygen feeling her heartbeat drop to zero, pleading him, "Tell me you love me before I go." His bloodshot eyes snap to her's and his chest heaves ruggedly with heartbreaking sobs -- his words full of sorrow tasting the bitterness of goodbye on her lips streaking away the blood on her mouth. 

"I love you so much, baby. Never stopped. Never will." She cries at last kissing him back with all the blood she has left pumping to her heart and tries to exchange the words but it was too late before she lost it all -- cold in his loving embrace. 

"Stay…." He begs praying like he did never before. 

"Y/N!!" He screams trying to shake her alive and hugs his angel to himself with mournful wails. 

Everyone standing outside the room knows that they'll never see this Harry again. 

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles one shots #harry styles dirty imagines #harry smut #You guys are gonna hate me for this #i cried too #pls fetch some tissue before reading

[fyeahmeninroyalnavy]

A Letter to the Forester Estate and the Writers of Horatio Hornblower, the TV Series

This is my letter from Horatio Hornblower and the fans of Archie Kennedy to the CS Forester Estate and also the Hornblower writers who killed off Archie Kennedy and then discarded him as if he meant nothing, particularly to Horatio. You may see their relationship as platonic or not. This is nothing against Lieutenant Bush who is a lovely man and a compelling character.

So, you think I’m such a heartless bastard that I could just move on without my best friend who gave up his good name for me to spare my “now purposeless” life? A life without my sun to my moon?

He’s probably still warm as he’s taken to a pauper’s grave or worse and I’m given a fucking promotion and a ship! I just lost my dearest friend, my brother in arms, my companion to whom I could

communicate without words, and he to me. The man I silently vowed to protect from that evil bastard Simpson. The man whose face I tenderly caressed as he writhed in fits, or nightmares, who I carried through the rain, begged to live, to drink. Whose bedside I sat vigil at, watching over him, feeding him, helping him to grow stronger. Because I said it myself. “I can’t do this without you. I won’t make it.”

Never mind that my men gave me hell, most of them anyway. We weren’t going anywhere without Archie and he would not be left behind. I would not, could not fail him again.

When I had to hit my friend in the head as he fitted, agony was clearly written on my face. And my heart broke as I saw the jolly boat drifting away taking a piece of my soul along with it.

And of course there’s more. Perhaps you didn’t notice how Archie and I called one another by our Christian names. And that he inspired courage, light, and greatness in me that I never knew I had. I was just a scared, awkward, seasick little boy that first day, thrust into the bowels of a Hell I never knew existed. And there was that bright faced animated ray of sunshine cheering me on. “Jump! You’ll be allright.” Then grinning at my no doubt green hue, “Welcome to Purgatory!”

How he still had such cheer and optimism after all he had been through on that hell ship is difficult to understand. After all, he was just a boy as well, only months older than me. And he had been on that ship far longer. Only later, after getting to know just what sort of person my dear Archie was would I understand.

Because there is, “was” no one else like him on this earth. I would have been entirely unmanned and crushed to bits had I endured what he had. I will never have that sort of courage, resilience and optimism, and I’ll never love anyone again now that he’s gone.

It is all I can do merely to get through a single hour, let alone a day. My soul is in agony without him and I look forward to my own death.

End of Part One.

Part Two

Did the writers not notice how very close Archie was to me? Because the viewers damned sure did! Any chance we had to gently touch or comfort one another, we took advantage of. When I returned from the hole in El Ferrol, Archie couldn’t get to me quickly enough. He was so loving, and concerned, and even stroked my chest. If the viewers took it as we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves, then they would be right.

And my loyal Archie went back to the prison hell he had been in, not even fully recovered to show his faith in me, his respect, and his love.

Then there was the disaster that was Muzillac. I believe that’s when I realized there was no going back.

I was so proud of my new Lieutenant’s uniform. I actually began to feel worthy of my promotion. And Archie was obviously just as pleased. I saw that look in his warm blue eyes. The look of love and something more. He’d had a drink you see and as he began admiring my new uniform I realized he was flirting with me. And I flirted back!

Neither of us knew what was coming as we escorted Moncoutant and his men to Quiberon. But as always we would have one another’s back. And if one of us should falter, the other would be there for support.

As it came to pass, it was my dear still wounded Archie who held me up, indeed saved my life at the end. My brother in arms serving as acting Lieutenant in his Majesty’s Royal Navy, not truly recovered from El Ferrol or from the terrible abuse from that scab Simpson, would rise to the occasion for me. Indeed risked his very life without hesitation to save mine.

He was still bantering with me in the beginning as he always did, loving nothing more than to tease and annoy me. Knowing I wasn’t fond of horses, let alone using them as transportation, I saw the sparkle in his eye, the smirk of his lips as I struggled to mount the beast. Secretly I enjoyed the teasing and we both knew it. Anything to get that sunshine smile from him was always worth it to me.

Is it not evident to anyone with eyes and two brain cells how well the two of us understand and care for one another?

Then came the turning point. When Archie became what he was always meant to be. A hero.

After all Archie had been through so recently with being in prison and the events preceding it, he struggled with anxiety about the situation we found ourselves in. I tried to make light of things to reassure him but I don’t believe he was buying it. Still he remained with our men, doing the best he could while I was off playing the gallant hero. I‘m not sure what I was doing or why. Yes I had a crush on Mariette. Yes, I wanted information from her about our enemy. Maybe I was trying to find a ray of sunshine in a black cloud of misery; a failed mission of pain, grief, and loss of life. If not for Archie I would be among the losses.

Acting Lieutenant Archie Kennedy. The man was a true hero. He was there for his men and led them in spite of his fear and panic.

Then he came through for me in a big way. He saved my life.

Archie agonized about lighting the fuse to blow up the bridge in Muzillac. His voice had a slight break when speaking to Matthews about whether I was still alive or not. He kept delaying and hesitating, hoping I would show. Eventually Matthews offered to take on that burden, lighting the fuse himself.

When I suddenly appeared with Mariette over the hill, Archie sprung into action immediately. Holding fire of our marines and asking for protection of us both as Mariette was suddenly shot. As I fell to pieces and the fuse came closer to blowing up not just the bridge but me along with it, Archie bravely broke into a run, arriving to pull my weeping form away from Mariette and certain death. He put his arms about me, gently saying there was nothing more to be done for her, and pulling me away as we ran for our very lives, barely escaping. He provided comfort with an arm around me, empathetic looks and touches. As we made it back to the Indefatigable and I was called to brief Captain Pellew, my dearest friend looked at me and lovingly touched my arm. It will all be okay Horatio he said without words. End of Part Two

Part Three to follow

#ioan gruffudd #jamie bamber #horatio hornblower #archie kennedy #hornblower #age of sail #cs forester #archie/horatio #horatio/archie #my thoughts #indy husbands #brothers in arms #hornblower fanfic #archie x horatio

[ticklygiggles]

It’s not coal! | UshiDai

Merry belated Christmas, @ragewerthers

Oh my goodness, I can’t write fastly. BUT I hope you enjoy this little gift, my friend! I hope you had a lovely Christimas and I hope next year comes with nothing but goos things for you and I hope we can still talk about our sweet boys together and daily life matters! I hope you enjoy this!!

Words: 2k

Summary: Daichi finds a terribly upset Ushijima when he arrives from work. The reason? He’s not sure, but there’s coal in a tray?

---

"I am back!" Daichi announced, letting out a pleased sight when the warmth of his home protected him from the freezing cold outside. He stepped out of his shoes,(making sure to leave them perfectly lined because he didn’t want to get scolded), and frowned when he didn’t hear an answer.

“Toshi?” He asked as he walked into the living room. “Are you home?”

“Welcome back. I’m here,” Ushijima answered and Daichi beamed when he saw him sitting on the couch. 

“There you are! Are you alright? What are you doing- what are those… pieces of coal?” He asked, frowning again when he approached Ushijima and found him staring at a tray with coal in it. 

He was surprised when Ushijima gasped and turned his head to look at him with the most offended expression ever. Daichi instinctively raised his hands in defense. 

“They’re not coal! They’re… they’re Christmas cookies…”

"What?” Daichi tilted his head to the side as he looked at the… Christmas cookies. “They don't look like cookies…”

"Now, stop being so mean.”

"No no! I'm sorry," he chuckled softly. "It's not that, it's just that... You're good at cooking, how did this happen?"

"Well..." A bright smile spreaded over Daichi's lips when a pink blush crept up Ushijima’s cheeks. "Earlier... you and me were messaging and I got... too distracted and didn't hear the oven, so they burned,” he explained sheepishly, avoiding eye contact with Daichi.

"Is it my fault now?” He teased playfully as he sat down beside Ushijima and grabbed his hand. "C'mere," he mumbled and gently pulled at Ushijima's hands, inviting him to place himself into his lap. 

Ushijima blushed softly and Daichi smiled softly when Wakatoshi allowed him to manhandle him a little until he was straddling Daichi's lap: his hands over Daichi's shoulders. 

Daichi wrapped his arms around Ushijima’s waist and looked up at him with a smile, his nose nuzzling against Ushijima's. 

"It was not. I was the one distracted,” Ushijima said with a little sight.

“Are you sad?”

“Mn. I wanted to surprise you.”

“Oh?” Daichi raised a curious eyebrow. 

“Yesterday night, you said that you missed your mom making christmas cookies for you, so I thought… I could make some for you, but they didn’t turn out well.”

Daichi blinked a couple of times, trying to digest what Ushijima just said to him. He almost didn’t remember he said that the night before while they were watching a Christmas movie and a lady was baking cookies. Daichi probably forgot about it as soon as he said it, but Ushijima… he not only remembered it but also tried to bring Daichi’s happy memories back to life by making cookies for him. 

He just couldn’t understand how people, (even himself back in time), could think that Ushijima was a heartless person - Daichi thought that, in fact, Ushijima had the biggest of hearts, ever and Daichi’s own heart soared with happiness at the thought of they being a couple and that he had the chance to love, love, love him so much, so tenderly.

“Oh, Toshi.” He swore Ushijima’s lip was puckered out just a little bit in a tiny pout. “You’re so good to me,” he said tenderly, stealing a kiss to Ushijima’s lips. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. They didn’t turn out well,” Ushijima said with sad eyes and even though Daichi felt his heart clenching at how much this affected his lover, he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at how adorable he looked. 

“Don’t say that,” he mumbled, kissing the corner of Ushijima’s mouth. “I can definitely eat those coal piec- those cookies.”

“Don’t tease me!” Ushijima said and Daichi laughed softly. 

“I’m joking, Toshi,” he chuckled with a playful smile as he kissed the little frown forming between Ushijima’s eyebrows. “Don’t be so upset, love. It makes me feel so happy that you tried doing this because you knew they meant something to me. I love you so much.”

He kissed Ushijima’s lips again, lingering a little longer when he felt him relaxing between his arms, even moving his hands to cup Daichi’s cheeks and gently angle his head just the way they both liked it, to kiss him a little deeper. 

When they pulled apart, they were a little breathless and Daichi smiled warmly when he saw Ushijima’s dazed eyes staring back at him. It made his heart flutter to know that Ushijima loved kissing so much, he always had that dizzy expression on him whenever they kissed and it was one of the many things that Daichi loved about him.

Ushijima looked relaxed now, blushy and soft, so Daichi thought that he was feeling better now, but he suddenly turned his head to look at the cookies laying in their little table and sadness filled his eyes again. 

Daichi shook his head as he purred a desaprovatory sound, making Ushijima look back at him; Daichi processed to kiss Ushijima’s cheeks, his lips and nose, and then started to pepper tiny kisses all over his face and he smiled brightly when he felt Ushijima’s lips curling in a soft smile. 

“Hmm? Do I see a smile?” He said, nuzzling Ushijima’s cheek with his nose. 

“No,” was the stubborn answer and Ushijima moved his head to hide his face against Daichi’s neck. "It's a little ticklish," Ushijima admitted and Daichi smiled brightly, leaning against the back of the couch and pressing Ushijima against his chest. 

"Oh? Is it?" He asked softly. "It made you smile, though. Maybe I should tickle you so you're not sad anymore?"

He felt Ushijima tensing and slowly, almost scared of Daichi attacking him, raised his head to look at him. "D-Don't you dare," Ushijima warned him.

Daichi could only smile even more at seeing the corners of Ushijima's mouth trembling, trying to hold back a nervous smile. "Okay, fine. Are you not upset anymore?"

"I am," Ushijima admitted immediately. "I really wanted to make you happy a-ahahahaand- ahahaha wait!" 

Daichi was a bit surprised when he felt Ushijima’s hands grabbing his shoulders, pushing at him softly as he threw his head back with a loud, bright giggle when Daichi’s warm fingers started tracing his lower back. 

“Oh, now you’re smiling!” Daichi said, laughing softly at seeing Ushijima’s cheeks turning pink as his fingers scribbled at his lower back, fingertips fluttering too close to his sides, making Ushijima shiver.

Ushijima squeaked, one hand moving up to cover his mouth. “N-Nohohot tihihihickling! Lehehehet me be sahahahad!” He giggled out, trying to arch against Daichi to escape the light tickling. 

“What! No! I don’t like seeing you sad, it makes me sad too,” Daichi said, pouting for only a few seconds before grinning at his laughing boyfriend. 

He pulled out one hand from under Ushijima’s shirt to gently remove Wakatoshi’s hand away from his mouth. “Don’t cover it, I want to see you’re not pouting anymore.”

“I wahahasn’t pouting,” Ushijima said, giggling softly at just one hand tickling his back. “I just… I really wanted to surprise you,” he said and Daichi’s eyes softened when Ushijima pouted again, that sad look taking over his features one more time.

It really pained him to see him so sad over something like that, but it made his heart swell to know that Ushijima was trying his best to make him happy. So, it was his duty to make his lovely boyfriend see that Daichi appreciated the gesture, but first…

“N-Nohohoho!” More surprised giggles escaped Ushijima’s mouth as Daichi started to squeeze up and down his sides, making him spasm and squeal.

“I think I’ll have to tickle you until you stop being upset, Wakatoshi,” Daichi said, grinning widely as he clawed up Ushijima’s sides toward his ribs. 

This action made Ushijima let out a high pitched squeak as his attempts to get away became more desperate. 

Daichi laughed, having trouble keeping Ushijima pinned against him. "What's wrong? Could it be that I'm close to a sensitive spot?" He teased, his fingers moving dangerously close to Ushijima's lower ribs. "Are you still upset?" He asked, stopping just one centimeter away from Ushijima's ribs. 

Ushijima shivered heavily and he giggled nervously as he tried to catch his breath. "A- A little…" he said sincerely, his eyes flickering to where the pieces of co- the cookies were.

"Okay, then we'll have to go the hard way," Daichi said, holding Ushijima's waist and gently pushing him against the couch, his body pinning Ushijima down. 

"D-Daichi? Daichi, I thinkAHAHAHA!" Ushijima let out a sudden cackle when Daichi's fingers found his lower ribs and his thumbs started to massage deep and gentle circles against the sensitive bones. 

Ushijima arched his back up as his legs kicked out. He tried to grab Daichi's hands, but Daichi easily grabbed one of his wrists and pinned it over his head. 

"Oh no," Daichi teased. "Wakatoshi is all exposed now!" He purred, his free hand vibrating against Ushijima’s lower ribs and easily shooing away Wakatoshi’s hand trying to protect himself. “What to do!”

Daichi giggled when Ushijima shook his head, his hand weakly trying to save his poor ribs from his evil fingers, but he was already growing weak and his laughter was getting louder and louder as he squirmed and jolted every time Daichi found a sensitive spot along his ribs, making Ushijima shriek when he focused there for too long. 

“CHAHAHANGE- chahahange spohohahahats!” Ushijima begged, feeling his mind going fuzzy by the intense sensation over his ribs. 

Daichi laughed as his fingers slowed down to let Ushijima catch his breath. “Change spots? To where? Here?” He asked and his hand immediately moved up to wiggle against Ushijima’s armpit. 

Ushijima gasped and widened his eyes before tightly shutting them as he threw back his head. “NAHAHAT THEHEHERE!” He laughed with the loudest of belly laughs, his back arching off the couch and up against Daichi.

“Oh? Did I find a good spot?” Daichi asked, totally aware that that was Ushijima’s ultimate worst spot. “And what do you mean ‘not there’? Didn’t you ask me to move away from your ribs?”

Ushijima nodded because he did, but he didn’t think Daichi was going to be a butt and move to attack his exposed under arm!

“It- Ihihihit tihihickles t-too muhuhahahach!” He laughs hysterically.

“I bet it does, I’m sure it will make you stop being upset, don’t you think?” 

Ushijima could only shake his head back and forth, feeling the electrifying sensation spreading to his ribs as Daichi started to vibrate the tips of his fingers against Ushijima’s armpit. 

“Ohmygahahahahad! Anywheheehahaha! Anyw-wehere but THEHEHERE!” He begged, weakly pulling at his trapped arm and trying to cover his underarm with his free hand. 

“Anywhere but here? But I like this spot and look how exposed it is! Your armpit must like getting tickled by me, right Toshi?”

“Nahahaht thahahat!” Wakatoshi howled with hysterical laughter as those fingers kept vibrating against his poor underarm.

“Are you still upset?”

Ushijima nodded as his laughter became a little wheezy.

“What? Are you lying because you want me to keep tickling you?” He teased, but then his big grin freezed when Ushijima’s face turned a bright shade of red after hearing Daichi’s words.

So.. he did like it?

“Oops,” he chuckled softly as Ushijima’s laughter finally became silent and he could only hear soft snorts burning in the back of his nose. “I think that’s enough.”

Daichi stopped painfully slowly, until he was just lightly brushing his fingers over Ushijima’s armpit and he was giggling hysterically. 

“I’ll ask one more time, Toshi,” Daichi mumbled with a bright smile. “Are you upset?” 

Wakatoshi shook his head, still unable to talk as the soft tickling to his armpits kept driving him crazy. 

“Oh, good! Then I think it worked!” Daichi said excitedly as he stopped his assault and let go of Ushijima’s wrists. “Too tired?” He asked, when Ushijima didn’t lower his arm immediately.

“Y-You ahahare ehehevil,” Ushijima giggled breathlessly, tears of laughter clinging to his lashes, eyes half closed, a little sleepy, a pink blush covering his cheeks and a lazy smile playing at his lips. 

He looked extremely beautiful and Daichi could only look at him with nothing but adoration.

“I love you,” he whispered and he almost didn’t see the blush spreading across Ushijima’s cheeks as he leaned down to capture his lips in a kiss. 

“Tell you what,” Daichi said after they pulled apart, his nose nuzzling against Ushijima’s. “What about we both try to make some cookies together, hmm?” He smiled brightly, a playful glint in his eyes.

Ushijima smiled back at him, almost stealing Daichi’s breath away. “Sounds good.”

Daichi giggled softly. “Good, but first-” he leaned down to kiss Ushijima again and Ushijima wrapped his arms around Daichi’s neck, bringing him close until their teeth were clashing against each other and Daichi pressed a knee between Ushijima’s legs and the baking had to be done later on, after a warm bath and playful pokes and squeezes here and there.

And now, every time Daichi looked at Christmas cookies, he could only think about Ushijima’s pouty face and his laughter echoing around their home, and that was also a good memory to keep forever.

#Haikyuu!! #UshiDai #Ushijima Wakatoshi #Sawamura Daichi #ticklish!Ushijima #MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!!

[translations-by-aiimee]

Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 2

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

TW for this chapter: Brief description of suicide

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 2 - Problem-Solving by Elimination

Scholar-Tyrant Song sat in the examination room, his mind blank.

The types of questions at the Banquet of Beauties were more terrifying than Goldbach’s conjecture. At least he would not panic if being questioned by his professor on Goldbach's conjecture.

The Langgan Terrace of the Golden Pheonix Manor was extremely luxurious and beautiful. There are countless cultivators and beautiful women flying in the depths of the clouds. Every guest was more beautiful than the last, and carefree laughter and obscene words were thrown around.

Song Qingshi silently recited his lectures on the human body structure, physiological hygiene, mouse breeding and other courses twice in his heart, finally recovering the calmness of a high-ranking medical student. Thinking about the lab mice he had bred for three years dying off, the scene in front of him no longer meant much.

There are two kinds of divine fires in the original person's body. The first was the Red Lotus Fire used for refining his alchemy, and the other was the Underworld Ghost Fire used for killing people.

Song Qingshi's expression became one that could repel others from thousands of miles away. He released the Underworld Ghost Fire from the palms of his hands, causing the flames to continuously jump at his fingertips and change into different shapes.

Fen Shen and He Ti ancestors are the treasures of all the cultivation sects. They did not usually involve themselves with the mortal world. The Nascent Soul cultivators are all big shots walking carefree in the immortal world. Not to mention the danger of the cutivating path; no one could guarantee that they wouldn't need to ask a doctor for help. Neither righteous cultivators or demonic cultivators were not willing to offend the Medicine Master Xianzun easily, let alone mock his perverse character.

When the cultivators saw the Underworld Ghost Fire, they knew that he was in a bad mood and kept their distance.

Song Qingshi was able to keep a clear area around him. He cut off the cultivators who approached him to make friendships. Then he released the powerful spiritual thoughts of a Nascent Soul cultivator and quickly took in all the beauties at the banquet. He looked carefully and tried to find the protagonist in the crowd.

However, Yang Yuhuan was thicker, and Zhao Feiyan was slender. Everyone had different standards of beauty. Song Qingshi was of the kind of person that was not very reliable. His eyes were quickly dazzled, only able to think that all of them were beautiful during the dinner. Even the maid who poured the water was graceful and beautiful. She was more beautiful than the stars on TV. He couldn't tell who was better looking.

But this stubborn scholar will never admit defeat!

Song Qingshi tried to use the process of elimination to solve the problem. First, he determined that the protagonist was a man, excluded all the maidens during the banquet. Then he needed to make a list of key observations, verifying claims, making careful assumptions, and removing the beauties that did not meet the standards one by one.

The twin brothers brought by the Sect Master of the Blood Demon Sect were extremely beautiful. Jade-like skin, fragrant, and passionately devoted, just like two identical lotus flowers on one stalk.

There can't be two protagonists, cross it out.

The young man brought by the immortal master Longhu Sect is also super cute. He is so childish and adorable, holding his immortal master in his arms and acting like a baby. The immortal master loved him very much, doted on him, and he even hand-fed this junior immortal his food during the banquet. He kept calling him "baby".

The protagonist is supposed to suffer a miserable fate. Cross it out.

The foreign monk from Beizhou used a mysterious iron chain to lead along a handsome man covered in wounds. He stumbled and followed the foreign monk obediently. But underneath, his body revealed a rebellious aura, like being an eagle with his wings tied but still wanting to break free and fly away.

The protagonist is a beauty, so he wouldn't be so heartless, cross him out.

. . .

Into the depth of the night, the whistful music of the Banquet of Beauties had long been replaced by debauchery. Many people took the beauties away from the tables, and the scene became more and more unbearable.

Song Qingshi did not want to peep into other people's private affairs, for fear of seeing something provocative and getting an eye stye. He kept his thoughts away from extra events and kept it focused during the dinner. Then he heard the foreign monk show off the man he had brought with him to the young master of the Hidden Moon Sect: "He was even a famous general in the human world. After he was defeated and captured, he was sold to me. He's an arrogant person, who resists even under the threat of death. He is very exciting to play with."

The Young Master of the Hidden Moon Sect introduced a soft and coquettish young man, and smiled: "A proud person has the taste of being proud, but there is also the taste of being well-behaved. Let's switch and try it out?"

The foreign monk hesitated. The Young Master of the Hidden Moon Sect cast a wink at the slave.

The charming young man immediately snuggled up on the monk’s chest and begged coquettishly: "I truly like majestic bodies of strong masters, please love this slave well."

Fan Seng was ignited by the tender words of this young man, and he readily threw the chain in his hand to the Young Master of the Hidden Moon Sect, and took the young man to the side hall. The Young Master dragged the chain fiercely, and forced the gray-faced man toward the secluded part of the garden.

There were many scenes like this during the dinner, and no one had pity for these tragic beauties.

. . .

Song Qingshi had already learned from the memory of the original body that the spiritual energy of the human world was thin. The lifespan of mortals was short, and the spiritual roots were occasionally weak. Just having a base foundation was like reaching the heavens. Some kind-hearted cultivators will accept mortals as disciples and give them the opportunity to ascend to immortals. Ten thousand years ago, there was a mortal named Mo Yuan who was extremely talented. He just relied on swordsmanship to become a Nascent Soul cultivator. His techniques rivaled the Fen Shen ancestors, and was thus called the Sword Sovereign.

However, the road to immortality was to fight for one's life with the heavens. It had difficult steps and repeated failure was common. Killing someone for their treasures occured from time to time. It was difficult to restrain their behavior with morality.

Weakness is the original sin. Mortals were like ants.

Even if it was the Sword Master Mo Yuan who took care of him, he could only lay down the rules among the elites of the immortal world. He ensured that the mortals who successfully built a foundation base were treated as cultivators and no longer playthings and slaves. But demonic sects and cultivators never cared about the rules. Not even just the mortal cultivators, the immortal monks also suffered in their hands. Their evil deeds were too numerous to count.

Golden Phoenix Manor was regarded as a famous sect in the immortal world, and all the cultivation furnaces in the Manor are of made and purchased in the mortal world.

So even if Song Qingshi couldn't tolerate what happened here, he couldn't interfere. He was slightly grateful that the identity that the system arranged for him was not a mortal, otherwise he would never survive two chapters, let alone save the protagonist.

Fortunately, it was just a virtual world. . .

Novels were all evil works; textbooks were the righteous materials in the world! The professor was correct in confiscating the novels of all the girls in class! If he had the opportunity to become a professor, he will not allow students to read novels! Help them to avoid their Three Views being poisoned!

Song Qingshi sighed silently.

Suddenly, a curse came from the garden. It was the Young Master of Hidden Moon Sect who dragged the stubborn man's corpse and returned with a disappointed face. The man's shirt was torn open, revealing his bruised body. His body was riddled with scars. He had taken a stolen silver chopstick, pierced his throat deeply and killed himself.

The silver chopsticks were very blunt, and it would be extremely difficult to kill yourself with one of them. You couldn't stab yourself with one without exhausting all your energy, which shows his determination.

Seeing this, everyone in the banquet joked. They laughed that the Young Master couldn't even take care of a mortal.

Hearing the disturbance, the monk left the charming young man and hurried back out of the side hall. He saw that the person he had brought was dead. His brows furrowed and his face was full of anger. The young master of the Hidden Moon Sect was even more angry than him. He turned the dead man over, revealing his back covered with lashes, and questioned the monk: "Why didn't you mark this little slave of yours with an Acacia Seal? How could you let him die?"

The foreign monk was stunned by his question: "What is the Acacia Seal? Some new thing from the Central continent?"

Seeing his ignorance, the cultivators couldn't help but mumble that Beizhou must really be a barren land considering that they didn't even know that an Acacia Seal is a well-known thing in the world. The monk was lost during this whole conversation and the Young Master was discouraged. He pulled the monk, hating iron for not making seal, explained the beauty of the Acacia Seal: "The Acacia Seal is a method created by Huanxi Xianzun. The owner can print it on the back of the furnace, and the body and soul of the furnace transfer into the hands of the owner. No orders are needed and it cannot die without permission."

Song Qingshi had found important information. He swiftly concentrated on this discussion and listened carefully.

Hidden Moon Sect's Young Master took out a red bead from his space bag. An idea sparked in his mind. He turned the bead in his hand. The charming young man who was standing next to the monk immediately knelt down and started to bark.

The monk waved his hand, disgusted and said: "It's so obedient, even if you try something new once in a while. If I raise them like this, I would get tired after playing with it for a few days."

"There are a lot of usages in it. You would know if you had used them yourself. This Young Master isn't going to list them all for you." The Young Master withdrew from spiritual mind he had put into the bead, and the young man crouching on the ground stood up. He was used to being humiliated in front of a crowd and blushed. After a while, he faded from his shame and stood behind his master with his head down.

Seeing that the monk still didn’t understand, the young master of the Hidden Moon Sect still educates patiently: “The most important thing is that unless you let the cultivation furnace die, the cultivation furnace will never die against your will. If you brand this little slave with the Acacia Seal, wouldn't it be more fun to make him unable to kill himself and then slowly break down his pride?"

The foreign monk had an epiphany. He nodded and agreed.

The young master of the Hidden Moon Sect erased the spiritual mind of the cultivation furnace's bead in his hand. He threw it to the monk, and said graciously: "Since the young master killed your beauty, I will will compensate you for it. You can take it and study the beauty of the Acacia Seal. Once you start, you won't be able to start."

The monk was overjoyed, and even boasted: "The Central continent people are really bold, this Black Vulture has made you a friend!"

The charming young man's face instantly turned pale. He looked at the original master desperately, looking like he had something to say, as if he wanted to beg, but in the end he didn't say anything, and went with the monk in tears.

The jewels were corrupted and it was like broken jade.

This extravagant feast had finally reached its climax.

The disciples of Golden Phoenix Manor concealed the radiance of the luminous beads above the temple, and let the darkness envelop the entire Langgan Terrace.

The guests raised their heads in amazement. They saw fireworks from several spells across the darkness, blooming in the air into a radiant golden phoenix, dancing lightly, announcing that the performances of the feast were about to begin. Jin FeiRen raised his wine glass and invited guests to share in the festivities again.

Song Qingshi marveled at the beauty of the Phoenix Dance, and admired it for a long while. Then he discovered that a young man in white clothes appeared next to Jin FeiRen. The young man had very clean and beautiful features, like green bamboo in the mountains, a bright moon in the sky. A layer of cold frost covered in his low eyebrows, his hair falling like a waterfall around his face. It was tied back with a ribbon. There were no other notable features on his whole body, but he still easily retained everyone's lingering gazes.

The tall and handsome owner was smiling and gently scratching the young man's palm with his fingers, praising his treasure in a gentle and soft voice, trying to get him to smile.

The young man turned his head away, despite the teasing. He didn't even want to spare him a glance.

Jin FeiRen twisted his head forcefully, and forced his hands behind his back with only one hand. He held him close in an embrace and kissed his forehead and the bridge of his nose carefully. Then he bit his lips hard, as if to he wanted to swallow him whole. The teenager struggled with pain, Jin FeiRen smiled and released him, leaning close to the youth's ear, and asked softly: "Do you want to learn the rules again?"

The young man froze for a moment. He stopped struggling, and sat obediently into Jin FeiRen's arms.

Was this the protagonist?

Song Qingshi secretly watched for a long time. He finally suppressed his social anxiety, ready to speak, and then LingBao Xianzun who had a good relationship with Jin FeiRen walked over and asked with a smile: "This is the new treasure of the Manor Lord? Is he pure? Does he have a good Yin constitution, a single spirit root of the water system? How about giving him to me to taste tonight?

Jin FeiRen glanced at the embarrassed and angry expression of the youth in his arms, gave him a squeeze, and refused with a smile: "Although he is just a toy, he suits my heart and it would be inconvenient to give him to you. Later, I will give my friends some top-quality products, all of them newly branded with excellent physiques and very clean."

LingBao Xianzun carefully looked at him. "Is your furnace still a virgin?"

Jin FeiRen said: "I don't want to treat him like an ordinary furnace."

Song Qingshi had already heard more obscene words tonight than he had in his lifetime. He understood everything that should be understood or even things that shouldn't be understood. He also understood clearly what a furnace was.

He watched as Jin FeiRen was pouring wine for the young man during the banquet, and he was a little unsure whether this was the protagonist. Although the white-clothed boy seemed to be more attractive than the other beauties present, the system had explained that the protagonist needs to be rescued from his miserable fate. Now Jin FeiRen was quite fond of the boy, and every beauty in the Banquet of Beauties was many times worse off than him. . .

Song Qingshi was anxious pondering these questions. . .

At this time, the phoenix finished its dance in the air, and fell into the crowd with a stream of light.

The light faded away, and a huge golden, carved bird appeared on the Langgan Terrace. On this bird frame was a beauty beautiful enough to destroy a city.

The gold fetters inlaid with jewels encircled his pure white ankles, and were tied to both sides of the bird frame with long thin golden chains. His upper body was caged with almost transparent thin fabric, and he could vaguely see the magnificent scenery decorated with gold jewels and jade underneath. On his lower body was a long dress in the shape of phoenix tail feathers made of gold and red feathers. His hair was adorned with pearls resembling mermaid's tears, the enchanting Acacia Seal on his back hidden by his long hair, flowing in the breeze. It was as beautiful as a phoenix with rich colors, the human peony in the world.

He held a jade flute in his hand, his thin lips slightly open, his beauty almost unnatural. The dark golden phoenix eyes seemed to be smiling but held no emotion, and he greeted the audience. Song Qingshi sat up straight. He recognized that this was the beauty in red that he had seen by the river bank.

When the red beauty glanced over at Song Qingshi, his eyes stayed for a while, then slid over as if he didn't recognize him.

Song Qingshi looked at the young man in white clothes on the left, who looked like a bright moon, and the beauty in red clothes on the right, who looked like peony in his prime. He was panicking; he couldn't tell who was more beautiful and more like the main character!

The exam questions of the system teacher were too difficult. . .　

Is Scholar-Tyrant Song going to fail his course?

#mistakenly saving the villain #chinese novel #chinese bl #english translation #song qingshi #mistakenly saving the villain translation

[knchins]

Come Back to Me - Junpei Y.

Summary: When you saw his world falling apart, you did your best to try and save him.

Pairing: Yoshino Junpei x GN!Reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Major character death, Angst w/o a happy ending, Bullying

Notes: This is admittedly not my best work. I kept wanted to scrap it and start over (I did actually...but only once) because I was having a hard time articulating reader’s feelings. My first JJK piece, I plan on tackling the manga sooner rather than later. When requests open back up JJK will be one of the available fandoms you can choose from! Anyway I pulled a lot of inspo from recalling my teenage years and having heartbreaking crushes on unobtainable people lmfao.

 Why did you do it? His words echoed in your mind as the two of you sat, bloodied, bruised, and burned against the chain link fence behind the high school you both attended. Why didn’t you run?    

 The words flowed from your lips so effortlessly, so easily, so without any care in the world, “Because you are my friend, Junpei. That is what friends do.”

 Junpei had a simple view on life. People were evil. They were heartless. They were cruel. They hated anything that was out of the ordinary. That was different. They hated him. So when he was being beaten yet again by Ito Shouta and his cronies, he was utterly surprised when you picked up a rock that had been nearby and hurled it at the ring leader’s direction to get him to stop.

 The broken off ball of concrete hit the center of Shouta’s back, causing a surprised yelp before making him see red. He turned seeing you standing there, fists clenched by your sides and eyes alight with fury. You had ordered them to leave him alone, to buzz off, to do anything but whatever it was that they were doing to your friend.

 They did not spare you. No, instead they threw you down next to Junpei and used you as a second punching bag. You were outnumbered. Overpowered. Defeated. But the one thing you absolutely weren’t was regretful. Sure Junpei was a bit different and sometimes a little odd but he didn’t deserve to be abused for being abnormal. No one did. Shouta was just some douchebag rich kid that had nothing better to do than torment classmates he felt were beneath him.

 “Never do that again.” Junpei said firmly, in a voice that caught you totally off guard. “Promise me, next time you’ll just run.” You couldn’t understand why he was upset with you for helping. Why he didn’t want your help. You couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your chest, the spark of rejection.

 But seeing you hurt, hearing you cry out in pain, watching your beauty being marred by burns that would more than likely turn to scars…it was too much. His heart just couldn’t take it. It was better for him, for both of you, if you just stayed out of it. Junpei, who felt like the most hated person on all of planet Earth, couldn’t let you hate him too. And surely after being beaten up a couple times for him, you would start to.

 His hands grasped your upper arms tightly, in a grip that was bound to bruise. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was even this upset. He’s never wanted to protect anyone other than himself ever in the entirety of his young life. He was shaking, pleading, begging you to please please never do something like this ever again. If you cared about him at all you wouldn’t.

 And despite your confusion, despite your urgent need to help him, to wipe his tears away, to clean up his cuts, to treat his burns, despite your heart swelling with pain at the thought of just walking away as he cried out for help, you agreed. You told him you would get an adult next time. You wouldn’t take matters into your own hands. If that was truly what he wanted, then you would just stay away.

 He hands loosened enough for you to move your arms again and you couldn’t stop yourself from pulling him in for a hug. If you couldn’t stop it, if you couldn’t save him from the worst of them, then at least you’d be there for the aftermath. For the tears and the anger and despair. You could pick up the pieces of him left scattered on the ground by the bullies that had nothing better to do in their spare time than to tear others down. Because Junpei wasn’t just your friend, he was your first crush. Your only crush. The one that made your heart flutter whenever he noticed you or had a smile tugging at your lips when he spoke to you in the hallway. Junpei who was so sweet, so quiet, so gentle. Junpei who had absolutely no idea how you felt about him in any way whatsoever.

 Over the following few weeks you had noticed him missing more and more school. You had volunteered to take his schoolwork to him after class so that he wouldn’t fall behind. This was more of an excuse to see him and make sure he was okay than to actually help him keep his grades up. That evening, you left him your notes and worksheets, and he seemed incredibly distant as he spoke with you. You knew in your heart that something was wrong. Something just wasn’t sitting right. Perhaps Shouta had gone too far, perhaps he just had no will to come back to class. Whatever it was, there was a sick feeling deep in your chest at the possibility that you wouldn’t get to see him every day ever again.

 You left him your phone number, urged him to please stay in contact because you wanted to know that he was alright. That things were okay. That he’d come back to you someday. It was just a crush but being without him just hurt so much. School wasn’t easy for you either, you had your own bullies to handle. The thought of weathering their verbal abuse alone just had tears springing to your eyes as you laid in bed at night waiting for a text, an email, a call, anything.  

 Junpei did none of the above. He did not text you. He did not email you. And her most certainly did not call you. Had you read him wrong all this time? Were his feelings simply not the same? Did he detest you as much as he did all the others?

 A few nights later you finally did receive a message from him. It was a simple five word phrase via text message. A warning that made your stomach churn with nauseating anxiety. Don’t come to school tomorrow.  

 What was he planning? Should you tell someone? The principal? The police? Your parents? Junpei wasn’t capable of something terrible like that, was he? There was no way he could hurt anyone, right? Was this why he had been absent? He was planning something terrible? On top of that, should you heed his warning and miss school?

 You urgently messaged him back, asking why. Begging for him to come clean to you. However, there was no response. No other messages came. You attempted to call him but his phone had been turned off. Did you go to his apartment? Run there despite the setting sun to find out what was going through his head? Why wouldn’t he just talk to you? Let you help him?!

 All night you tossed and turned, mind reeling with every possible scenario you could think of. Nothing made sense anymore. You couldn’t think of a single way to stop him besides to be there in person. Even if it puts you in danger. Even if you got hurt. It was worth it to save him, even if it was from himself. You’d go and you’d find him and you’d stop him.

 When you arrived at school, sleep deprived and exhausted, you kept a sharp eye out for your friend. You sat down towards the back of the auditorium as the morning assembly began. It seemed as if Shouta was getting some sort of award today, some acknowledgment for an achievement that he likely paid for. You struggled to stay awake, the feeling only getting worse when you finally did see Junpei enter the back of the room. You attempted to call out for him, but something was wrong. You couldn’t move, your body slipping into unconsciousness.

 When you awoke, the first thing you noticed was everyone around you sleeping and what sounded like a fight happening outside in the hallway. You stood, ignoring the shouts of Sotomura-sensei for you to stay down, and ran to try and figure out what was happening.

 Once outside, you raced down the hall, skidding to a halt when you saw Junpei along with two men standing beside the stairwell. The odd looking one had an arm around Junpei, the other freakishly stretched to pin the other teenager to the wall. You couldn’t make out what they were saying. Whatever Junpei had done to make you fall asleep was affecting your senses. In fact you weren’t even sure that what you were seeing was real.

 Junpei had morphed into some kind of monster, “Junpei!” You screamed for him as the other two started fighting, running to gather his misshapen body into your arms. “Junpei?” But he was gone.

 Someone was telling you to run, but you couldn’t move. Your legs would not listen to your brain as you sobbed into the mop of black hair on top of the malformed Junpei’s head. Your grip on him would have no doubt been painful if he were still alive to feel any. You begged, begged, anyone who was listening to bring him back. You’d do anything, absolutely anything, just bring Junpei back! Just bring him back to you, safe and sound! Let you take care of him again like old times! Please! Please? Please…

 No one answered your cries. Of course they didn’t. Why would they? In a world so cold and cruel, why would they bring your love back to you? You could feel your soul withering, shuddering with grief as your heart shrank more and more into your chest until you felt nothing. Nothing at all. Just complete and total numbness. He was gone. He was gone and he was never coming back. .

Tag lists are now on reblogs! You can join by filling out the form linked in my pinned navigation post!

#yoshino junpei #junpei yoshino #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #junpei x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagine #jjk imagines #jjk angst #junpei imagine

[makkoskafanfic]

For the wip thing: Berserk 😉

Thank you for asking for this one! 🥰

I started to write this when I was re-reading the Golden Age arc for about the 100th time and I really wanted Guts and Griffith to just get on with it.

I dropped it when I realised no matter what I wrote, canon had it a hundred times better. You can't write fanfic for perfect stories.

Griffith didn’t consider the world to be a complicated place. To the contrary, he thought matters of life were rather straightforward, simple even. He had a dream – or rather an aim, as he knew he was going to achieve it, and everything and everyone was a tool to help achieving that. He didn’t consider himself evil for it, simply pragmatic. He was, in a way, even doing good, providing his men with a reason, a goal to live for.

With steady steps he was advancing up the marble road leading up to the castle. Why would he be satisfied with anything less than the top? His comrades – his underlings - knew they were expendable. They didn’t seem to mind. They had their own aims in life, incomparably smaller they were than Griffith’s though, and they were all moving towards those. It was a dangerous world, where the strongest ruled, and they all knew and accepted that.

And there was Guts.

His skills, his power, his determination was unequalled by anyone but Griffith himself. Yet, he didn’t seem to have a dream of his own. For all intents and purposes, he was the perfect tool. He was not simply willing to do what Griffith commanded – he appeared to yearn for the White Hawk to direct him, to give him a purpose, a task he could live for while it lasted. He seemed the most content when Griffith used him as an extension of his will. Despite his usual gloomy attitude, he was clearly joyful when he could swing his ridiculously oversized sword on a battlefield for the glory of the Bank of the Hawk. For the glory of Griffith.

Problem was, he couldn’t think of Guts as a tool only.

Griffith sighed in annoyance. Being bedridden was a real nuisance. When the sycophants of the court didn’t try to lick his feet in hopes of some gain, he had nothing better to do than to stare at the white ceiling and let his mind wander on all kinds of things. Like Guts, their last fight with that monster Zodd, the castle, the path to the throne, Guts, the Band Of Hawk, Princess Charlotte. Guts. Guts, Guts, Guts.

“What an annoying man,” he muttered.

“Did you say something, sir?” a maid appeared out of thin air, looming above his bed in concern. She was the one who seemed to jump on every opportunity to treat his wounds or give him a bath, letting her hand linger just longer than it was necessary. Griffith smiled at her faintly. Maybe when he got his strength back, he could entertain her.

“Thank you, I’m quite alright,” he waved her away, and with obvious hesitance, she went.

He had to come to a decision on what to do with this growing obsession with his Raiders Captain. It was starting to overshine much more important things and that wouldn’t do.

Should he try to bury these feelings, this yearning? They provided no contribution to the great scheme of his plans, so why harbour them? Problem was, he wasn’t sure at all he was able to do that. Pragmatic he was above anything else, he wasn’t heartless, wasn’t above having emotions.

He could get rid of Guts. The man would take on any task he bestowed upon him, and he could find him a quest dangerous enough not even he would survive. However, just the thought of Guts dying filled him with unbearable pain. When they faced Zodd, he had two things on his mind. One was that he couldn’t let anything, not even a demon with superhuman power stand in his way and prevent him from advancing forward. The other was the burning need to keep Guts alive. The two of them together, they could do anything. The warrior was his, and he would die when Griffith deemed it his time to die. But that time wasn’t now.

The third option was to act on his obsession. Burn it out of his system, so to say. Take Guts as his lover, to make him his, completely.

His heart beat faster at the thought. Young he was, he had several lovers of both genders. He always engaged them for some gain and never for pleasure alone. Sleeping with Guts would be quite different. He yearned to feel those muscles under his touch, he wanted to subdue that brutal physical power, to hear that gruff voice groan and beg for pleasure…

He was going to have it. Guts was his and he could do whatever he pleased with him. And his Captain was going to enjoy it. He felt thrilled by the prospect, uncharastically excited. There was this man he couldn’t keep his usual cynicality around but with his decision made, he was no longer frustrated about that. Why be torn over it, when he could just enjoy it? Decision made, he closed his eyes and sank into a deep, healing sleep.

*/*/*

The hard tiles of the rooftop dig into the muscles on his back, but Guts didn’t let himself be bothered by it. He wasn’t sure how long he was lying there, staring at his sword, at the full moon, pondering, pondering, pondering over the conversation he had today with Griffith.

“There’s no reason,” he said. “Do I need a reason for that? A reason for risking my life to save you.”

He was recalling these quiet, matter of fact words for the millionth time, wanting them to be true, yet scared that they were. Regretting they were interrupted before he gained their meaning on the spot. There was that look in Griffith’s blue eyes - what did it mean? It made Guts' heart race not unlike battle did, although there was no hostility in them. His leader was a very rational man, and it was unlike him to risk his life without a clear gain. Useful as Guts was to him, it made no sense to endanger himself in a fight like that. When he said that, asked if he needed to have a reason to risk his own life to save Gut’s, he appeared as if he didn’t know the drive for his own self-dangerous actions. Yet, the glance he cast at him spoke of something different. Griffith always did everything with a very good reason, even if that reason wasn’t obvious at first to simple men like him. That look though - he would have said more, some kind of an explanation, that would have made the whole situation clear, Guts was sure, if they weren’t interrupted.

But they were, and that made Griffith enter his politics-in-the-court mode, which was so alien Guts. He hated to watch how his leader bowed his head, uttered humble words, even if he understood why he did it.

Well, the King and his companions did cut their talk short. Even if Guts felt resentful and curious about what Griffith would have said, what was done was done.

He did it for me, he thought. He risked his life for no higher reason than to keep Guts alive. He turned this around his mind. It seemed unlikely and yet, maybe it was true.

The moon above him seemed as unreachable, as far above him as Griffith is. A magical, mythical creature. He adjusted the hold of his sword in his hands. The blade was reality, the only thing he knew. He was but a mere swordsman, even if he was a talented one. Yet Griffith deemed him worthy…

He knew only one thing. From now on, he would wield his sword for him. Griffith very much had his dreams, he knew what he wanted and was doing everything he could to achieve them. The least Guts could do was to help him.

#bersek #griffguts #unfished fic

[arotechno]

The Heartless: Chapter 10

Read on Inkitt

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Chapter X: in which the other shoe drops

The northern edge of the royal grounds was flanked by the forest, cut off from the hustle and bustle of the kingdom at large. It was there that Knife Boy and I perched in a tree by nightfall and considered our best plan of attack. It would likely prove suspicious for us to seek entrance so late at night, particularly given our previous encounter with the royal guard in the woods. We would have to find another way in.

An outer wall surrounded the perimeter of the grounds, heavily guarded at all times by both a series of small outer towers and a ground patrol. Our current position was in the blind spot between the two nearest towers, and if we were careful, we could use it to our advantage in order to sneak through the north gates during the guard change. When I asked Knife Boy how he knew all of this, he unsurprisingly told me to shut up. For the remainder of the night, we sat in silence as we waited for an opening. Neither of us slept a wink.

  By morning, the sky grew dark and angry, clouds hanging ominously low overhead. That afternoon, the heavens split open, and the rain descended like a curtain all at once. We were soaked before we even had a spare moment to realize it was pouring, and Knife Boy flew into a panic.

“No, no, no, the maps!” he hissed, scrambling to shield his bag from the rain, cover it with his shirt, wrap himself around it as if it were a child. It was ultimately for nothing—but I quite literally didn’t have the heart to tell him so.

Instead, I merely pointed out that the rain would provide a good cover, and that we should get going. We hit the ground running and crept up alongside the outer wall. The downpour had reduced visibility to nearly zero, rendering us largely undetectable. We moved silently along the perimeter, barely breathing. When the gates opened for the shift change, we made a break for it, slipping inside the grounds the moment the guards’ backs were turned and running clumsily to duck behind some decorative bushes.

Then, Knife Boy said, “Well, this is where I leave you. The king’s probably in his dining chamber. Second floor.”

My stomach dropped.

“Wait, you’re not coming?” I asked in disbelief. “Why?”

“There’s a library,” he admitted. “In the basement.”

“What are you talking about?” I shouted through the pounding rain.

Knife Boy fell silent and stared at me with a guilty expression, still clutching his bag to his chest in a futile attempt to keep his precious maps dry. Raindrops dripped from his hair, tracing rivulets of water from the top of his forehead to the tip of his chin.

His shoulders drooped, and then he asked me, “Do you want to know how my parents died?”

I leaned forward, thinking I may have heard him wrong.

“What?”

“My parents,” Knife Boy reiterated, a bit louder. “The royal guard killed them too. They were studying the kingdom’s history—they got too close to something important, something big. So they were murdered.”

Ah, I thought. So that’s it, then.

“You came along because you want to figure out what they knew,” I charged.

“There’s something off about this kingdom, and you and I both know it,” Knife Boy contended. “We both have a score to settle. This is mine.”

“So I was just useful to you?” I couldn’t hide the hurt in my voice.

Knife Boy shook his head somberly.

“I still meant what I said before, about owing you for saving my life. I wouldn’t have come all this way with you if I didn’t want to. But now I have to go.” He put out his hand and smiled at me. “Maybe we’ll see each other again on the other side?”

“Maybe.” I clasped his hand in mine and shook on it. “If there is one.”

Knife Boy nodded once before he turned and disappeared around the corner in search of the basement entrance.

That left me to find my way inside on my own. A quick glance out of the bushes told me that there was a guard stationed at the northern palace door. There was no way I could get through the door without him seeing me, which left me with very few options short of murder (which I wasn’t too keen on). With a shudder, I opted to fire an arrow into his leg, immobilizing him long enough for me to sprint to the entrance and slip inside, hoping he’d be unable to follow me.

Once inside and finally out of the weather, I stopped to gather my senses. My ears were still ringing from the thundering rain, and I could feel rivulets of water dripping from my fingers onto the immaculate floor. It was eerily quiet inside, devoid of all signs of life. I began to tiptoe down the hall, remembering the entirely non-specific directions that Knife Boy had given me. My footsteps seemed to echo through the rafters, reverberating off of the walls lined with portraits of past rulers set in ostentatious gold frames. I turned a corner and reached a grand staircase, dressed in blood red velvet. I took great pleasure in trekking up the stairs in my wet, muddy boots, tracking filth across the expensive carpeting, but stopped short when I reached the top and took the next turn.

There were royal guards, five of them, at the far end of the hall. Before I could make the decision to run, one of them turned and spotted me.

“Hey!” he shouted, garnering the attention of the other four.

In a matter of seconds as they started to get closer, I processed my options. Running would get me killed. I only had three arrows left, not enough to take them all down, if I was even fast enough. That only left me with one course of action.

I dug into the bottom of my sopping wet satchel, hands trembling, and pulled out the set of red vials from Bertrand. I must be going crazy, I thought, if I’m really counting on these to work on anybody but me. With a silent appeal to whatever higher powers may be, I wound up and threw the vials down the hall. They crashed to the floor and shattered, the liquid immediately vaporizing upon contact with the air. The guards stopped running, spellbound, and that was enough for me.

Thank you, Bertrand, I thought to myself as I turned heel and raced the other way down the hall. When I turned the next corner, I reached a set of large oak doors, the scent of freshly roasted meat wafting out from underneath.

  With my back pressed up against the wall outside the dining chamber, I attempted to steady my breathing. I was out of love potions to use as distractions, so I was going to have to tread carefully. As I stepped in front of the doors, drawing my bow, a small part of me screamed out this is a mistake—but I had long ago resigned myself to seeing this mission through to the end, even if it killed me. The pain of never knowing would quite possibly be a worse fate than death.

But there was no time to contemplate my own mortality, and no use in trying to make sense of it anyway. With another deep breath, I nocked an arrow and kicked open the heavy wooden doors to the dining chamber.

“King Brutus, I request an audience!” I bellowed, inwardly cringing at how pathetic it sounded out loud—it had seemed much cooler in my head.

There was a guard stationed on either side of the room. When the doors opened to reveal me standing there, fully armed, they had begun to rush toward me, swords drawn—but King Brutus held up a hand to stop them, and they relented.

King Brutus was a large, somewhat stout man, decked out in opulent robes and a golden crown glimmering with gemstones I had never seen before and could not possibly have named if you held a knife to my throat. He was the stereotypical image of a self-serving monarch, seated in his fancy upholstered chair at the head of a long table that seemed to overflow with personally catered meats, cheeses, fruits and wines meant only for him. This was the fabled never-emptied cup, the bountiful road paved with gold that I had chalked up to nothing but an idealistic fairytale—but kings and queens had always been the stars of fairytales, hadn’t they?

“If you’re interrupting my meal, this had better be good,” King Brutus warned, but he seemed oddly amused, and not at all alarmed at having an arrow pointed directly at him.

“Please,” I begged, tightening my grip. “I just have some questions. Just a few questions, and then you can do whatever you want with me. I don’t care anymore.”

King Brutus took a long, greedy gulp out of his silver chalice and said, “Ask away.”

“First, you should know that I’m Heartless. About seven years ago, in Swallow’s Point, there were two sets of parents who disappeared after the royal guard came through.” I took a deep breath. “What happened to them?”

“Swallow’s Point, hm?” Recognition lit up the king’s face. “Ah! You must be referring to the town where that Heartless boy was discovered. I did not know there were two of you.”

My blood began to buzz beneath my skin, but I held my ground. “Answer the question, please. The parents, what happened to them?”

“The boy’s parents, I had arrested and killed. I was told that another couple attempted to interfere; they met the same fate. That must have been your parents.”

They tried to protect each other, I thought. They must have known.

“And the boy?”

Infuriatingly, King Brutus shrugged, as if I were asking him about the weather.

I tried to stop my hands from shaking, intimately aware of the fact that I was staring down death’s door.

"I just have one more question for you.” Another deep breath, pulling the arrow back. “Was there ever even a curse at all?”

A beat passed, and then King Brutus laughed.

“You Heartless dregs are so gullible!” he crowed, bits of food flying from his mouth. “I am going to ask you a question, now! Do you, foolish boy, actually believe that you were born from some great evil?”

I could not speak. I felt like I was choking. The blood was rushing to my ears.

“Answer me!” the king boomed.

“I-I don’t know,” I admitted.

“But you do know!” King Brutus stood abruptly, ornate chair screeching against the lustrous tile floor. “It would be easier if you were cursed, wouldn’t it? You choose to believe it, because you want to believe you can be fixed. But there is no fixing you, boy! You were born broken, not even human, and that’s all you will ever be!”

I do not know when I fired the arrow or when the blade entered my chest, but within a matter of seconds my bow was clattering to the ground, King Brutus was dead, and I found myself wishing the sword had hit more than just empty space.

* * *

I knew that had I been born with a heart, the blade would have killed me instantly. Rather, the empty space between my ribs now gave me the time to think. I had always imagined that when I died, I would simply disappear; how can that which is not made of flesh ever return to dust? Instead, my blood seeped bright red from the gaping hole in my chest and returned to the soil. I had lived a life on the fringe of humanity, barely warm enough to be considered alive, but I would die in the most human way possible: alone and full of regret.

In my last moments of consciousness, I saw a blurry figure loom over me—an apparition, perhaps? I had never been the religious type, but I wondered not for the first time if maybe there really was an angel to save me. There was a glimmer of hope somewhere within me that maybe even someone like me was worthy of saving; it was a fragile, feathery sort of thing that fluttered through my brain just before I lost the ability to think entirely, gone again just as quickly as it came.

Before the last light faded from my vision, I felt myself being lifted from the dirt. For some inexplicable reason, I felt like I was home.

#the heartless #aro #aromantic #aro writing #aro writers #aspec #aspec writing #aspec writers #writing #writeblr #op