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feeling-pushy · 4 months

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The Three Amigos

Recently added a new character to my "Creature Apocalypse" story. A friend for both Montanha and the old Rosie (and also future lover for Montanha >.>) anyways I hope you guys like it! Fallow me on my BlueSky Account to know more about the characters I've mentioned!

“And where did you say you learned this?” asked Rosie as she watched her older friend fiddle with some sticks and a looped wire.

“Wikihow. I googled a bunch of stuff, before the internet went out and screen shot a bunch of how-to's.” Montanha explains as he finishes setting up his little trap. Two sticks were staked into the earth, parallel to each other. One stick was bigger than the other and had a hole in it so a bit of wire could be threaded through and tied around it. The rest of the wire was looped around on itself and resting on the smaller of the two sticks. It was made in a way that if a small animal, like a rabbit, were to hop threw the loop, the loop itself would tighten and hopefully kill it.

Sitting back to admire his handiwork before looking back at Rosie with a grin. “If this one ends up working I can make a bunch more and hopefully we can get a bunch of meat.”

“Ugh, I would kill for some meat!’ says Rosie with an exaggerated groan, ‘I’m so sick of dried foods and foraged shit. I want proteeeiiinnn!”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear yah. Come on, let’s go set up one more test trap and then you promised me that you’d help me practice my bow and arrowing.”

“Oh right, I did promise that. Yeah, you could definitely use the practice.” Rosie says with a smug grin as Montanha rolls his eyes. Getting up, Montanha and Rosie move about a hundred yards to the east before Montanha sets his backpack down and starts rummaging threw it. After a minute he pulls out some bright neon orange rope, “got this from that Home Depot we broke into last week.” He said with a proud smile.

“So resourceful.”

“Shush.” He says, pulling out his phone again to look at some step-by-step guides. Slowly he weaves the rope together into a net. He then takes the slack and hands it to Rosie. “Can you go climb that tree for me and find a good branch to loop this on please? Put it on one of those bottom branches, nothing too weak but I need it to have at least enough give so I can make a trigger for the trap.”

Rosie takes the rope, “You got it Monty my man.”

“You know I hate being called Monty.” He complains, Rosie just smiles at him before climbing a nearby tree. She was like a little squirrel, buck teeth and all, Montanha thought to himself as she scurried up there. She tested a few branches before she found one that seemed strong enough for the purpose of their trap, throwing the rope back to Montanha before scurrying back down. “Alrighty! Branch secured!”

“Thanks.” Montanha takes the other end of the rope from Rosie and begins rigging up the trap. Fortunately, he was tall enough to reach up at the branch with some minimal effort, pulling it down some and holding it in place with the trigger, so that when it tripped it was snap back up to its original position and if they were lucky, the animal that set it off would be inside the net. Sitting back with a satisfied smile, Montanha looked to Rosie, “Alright, hopefully we catch something big with this one.’ He then gets up and dusts some dirt off his jeans, ‘Now let’s go practice some archery.”

“Alright my man!” she said with a grin as the two of them went to go find a nice little clearing, about a hundred yards away from the traps, so as to not scare off potential prey. Rosie and Montanha stand in a clearing surrounded by towering trees. Together the two had taken a nearby rotted log and rolled it over to lean against another tree, Montanha then carved a ring around the middle. Making them a makeshift target to use.

Rosie, with her bow in hand, takes a few steps ahead of Montanha, who holds the bow uncertainly, his tall frame dwarfing the slender weapon. “Alright, big guy, let's go over the basics again. Grip the bow firmly but not too tight, try not to crush it. Then you knock the arrow onto the string before pulling back.” She says as she demonstrates, pulling back with a smooth, practiced motion.

“Alright...” Montanha draws the arrow back as Rosie instructed him to do. It should’ve been easy enough for him strength wise, but for some reason, he always struggled with pulling the string back. Not only that, but he found he was having trouble keeping the arrow from wobbling up and down in his hand. For some reason he just couldn’t keep his hands steady, “Stupid fuckin- ugh!” He growls frustrated after wrestling with it for a few moments.

Rosie watches Montanha's struggle, “Whoa, calm down Paul Bunyan. No need to get frustrated, just adjust your grip a little, you’re still squeezing it too hard.’ Rosie steps over to him, she makes him relax his draw before helping Montanha adjust the grip on the bow, gently guiding them to the right place, ‘Ok better, now try drawing again, but focus on keeping your arm steady as you draw back.” She says stepping back.

With the new hand positioning and advice, Montanha had a much easier time drawing the bow back, though still not as fluid as Rosie, it was still an improvement. “There you go, that's better. Now, the arrow. Slide it onto the arrow’s rest, nock it properly. Make sure it's aligned with your sight.” Montanha nods and tries again. This time he had a better grip on the arrow and kept it straight, he looked over to her expectantly, “like this?” Rosie nods approvingly, a grin spreading across her face, “Much better! You've got the hang of it big guy. Now, hold that position steady, and release when you feel confident. Remember to keep your focus on the target, not the arrow.”

She demonstrates this with her own bow, drawing back the arrow and with a single slow breath, releasing her shot. The arrow struck the center of the makeshift target, and Rosie, with a smug grin, turned to Montanha, “Think you can handle that big guy?” She challenges a little. Rolling his eyes playfully, Montanha took his turn, looking at the target, and once he felt like he was in a good spot, letting the arrow go. However, his shot went wide, missing the bullseye by a wide margin, “shit...”

“Nice try, Mr. Zombie Apocalypse Expert. Maybe you should stick to your axe.” she teases.

“Alright Katniss Everdeen, not everyone can be as naturally gifted as you apparently.” he quips, hand on his hip. Rosie laughs but relents, “Alright, alright once more, with feeling.” she goes over the steps of aiming and releasing the bow one more time with him. Showing him how he needs to plant his feet and to relax his shoulders. With this guidance, Montanha releases a slow breath before letting the arrow fly. This time, it hit the outer most ring of the target.

“Daryl Dixon, eat your heart out.”

“Whatever, Charlie Matheson.”

“You cannot wound me with names of characters I don’t even know. Just like you wouldn't be able to wound me with that arrow.” she sticks her tongue out at him after she says that. Montanha rolls his eyes at Rosie's antics and goes to pull the arrow out of the target. “At least I'm getting closer to the target. I'll be putting dinner on the table before we know it!”

“Yeah! Maybe we'll get a turtle...or a fish or something.”

“Shut up!’ he aims the arrow again and fires, still hitting around the outer rim ‘I meant to do that.” He says a bit sheepishly, “Oh I'm sure you did Apollo...”

The two continued to practice their archery for a while, both playfully going back and forth on the teasing, Montanha especially getting on her when she slipped up on a shot and hers hit a nearby tree a couple of feet away from the target, which annoyed her. Not like he had much room to make fun, when more than half of his shots ended up going wide or embedding themselves into the dirt in front of him.

He did manage to hit a bullseye once and Rosie was actually quite proud of him, “There yah go Montanha! I’ll make an expert out of you yet!” she says beaming up at him. Montanha turns to her with a smile, “Thanks Rosie… Hey, you wanna go check on the snares?” At the mention of the traps, Rosie brightens up. “Do you think we caught anything by now?”

Montanha shrugs, “I hope so. Besides, we should start heading back to camp anyway.” He says, noting that the sun was starting to make it’s way down from the sky, which meant it would soon be evening. “Great!” she says, already running to grab the arrows and kick over the makeshift target. Once the two of them packed up, they set out to check their traps.

The first trap they checked was the small snare trap and it was unfortunately empty. Rosie sighed but then perked up again as they headed for their second, bigger trap, the net they'd made with bright orange rope had the potential to catch something rather large after all. “Maybe we caught something big to eat! Like a fox or maybe even a boar! Whatever it is I hope it's made of meat.” Rosie says with her trademark optimism.

Montanha wouldn't have minded some meat as well, though with their luck they probably be lucky if they caught a fox of some kind. However as they got closer to the net, they did hear the sounds of something struggling, and though they couldn’t yet see it behind the shrubbery, it was safe to assume they’d caught something.

Rosie, eyes shining, ran forward towards the trap, crossing the brush line before him, “Montanha, we got something! We got... uhhh.” her cheers suddenly stopped and Montanha, feeling a small bit paranoid, hurried over faster to see what it was. As soon as he was within sight of the trap, Montanha looks up at the net to see that there wasn't an animal in the net but a young man around Montanha's age.

“Oh god, don't hurt me! Or turn me into the main course!” the young man cried as he struggled in the net, clearly panicked. Both blinked stunned at the sight. They had not expected to see something like this. “ ... Think that’s a Creature?” Montanha says, asking the most obvious question.

It wasn't the most ridiculous question to ask, though. It was better to be cautious these days than to trust something at face value. For all he knew it could be a Creature and whether this was a trap it set up or if it was genuinely caught, wouldn’t really make that much of a difference in the end. Still, Montanha couldn't help but feel a bit bad for the guy, who clearly looked scared, he felt the need to help the poor guy out. Though he refrained from doing so at the moment.

Rosie thought on it for a moment, but then she smirked “No, I don’t think a Creature would be dumb enough to get caught in a trap like this.’ Looking up at the guy in the tree, she leaned on her bow like a prop and looked up at him with a smirk playing on her lips, ‘How's it going, buddy? Come here often?” she teases.

“Ha! Real funny kid, really funny. You right about one thing though, I'm not a Creature. I'm just a guy trying to survive this end of days bullshit like you both are. So... Would you mind letting me down... Well unless you two are Creatures. You’re not Creatures are you..?” he hesitantly asks.

“What would be more embarrassing for yah? If you got caught by people, or Creatures?” Rosie asks, still smirking at the absurdity of the scene. The auburn fellow did not look nearly as amused as her, “Both kinda suck right now, but I'd rather chance it on the ground.”

“Would you prefer the safe way or the fast way? Cause both can be arranged.” Rosie provokes, but before the guy can retort though, Montanha raises his arms, “Alright, alright, everyone calm down. Look, we're sorry you got trapped in our net.”

“Our brightly colored orange net-“ Montanha looks over at Rosie “Shush.’ he looks back up at the man hanging in the net, ‘We're not Creatures and we can prove it... And I'm sure you can prove it as well. So why don't we get you down and we can get past this? Hm?” the young man nods hesitantly, “Yeah, alright.”

With the confirmation, Montanha asks Rosie to untie the rope holding the net, which she does. Once the net released, Montanha caught the man before he can hit the ground, the guy looked a bit surprised to be caught but looked out at Montanha with a small smile, “Thanks...”

“No problem.’ Montanha says setting him down, he gives the guy a friendly smile ‘There you go. Sorry about all that, and sorry about my friend here. She's actually pretty insufferable...” Rosie, annoyed, elbows him roughly, which only made Montanha chuckle. The young man shrugs a bit with a smirk “Hey, it's fine. I'm just glad you guys aren't Creatures or... Desperate cannibals or something.”

Rosie’s eyes go a bit wide, “Yo, that be kinda fucked up though. Who would even resort to such a thing??” Montanha shrugged at her question, but is more focused on the new guy, “So what's your name? I'm Montanha and this is Rosie.” he says as he gestures to both himself and her. Rosie gives him an upwards nod as she looked at him.

“I'm Asher, you can call me Ash for short though.”

“Sup Ash Ketchum!” Rosie quips with a sly grin, Asher merely crosses his arms and smiles “Not much Rosie O'Donnell.” He shoots back. A big grin spreads across Rosie’s face “Oh, I like this one.’ looks at Montanha, ‘Can we keep him Dad?” Montanha rolls his eyes “What, is he a puppy?”

“Aww, come on, Uncle Monty! I've been really good and I got all A's on my last report card!”

“Stop.’ He says, shooting a look at Rosie before looking back at Asher, ‘Do you have a place to stay right now? We got some food if you wanna crash with us tonight. The least we can do after trapping yah after all.” Montanha offers. Asher eyes softened at this, “I don't have a place, so I think I'd like that.”

“Great, come with us then.” Montanha says as he and Rosie then lead the new guy to their camp. They start to hike to the camp which wasn’t too far thankfully.

As they walk, Rosie saddles herself up next to Asher and Montanha could see she was flashing him her signature rat-tooth grin, which Montanha knew meant she was about to try to get something from him. “So Bear Grills, you don't happen to have any meat on yah, do you?”

“I don't...” he says, Rosie throws her head back “Baaallllsss. Not even some jerky? I’ll settle for jerky.” Asher shakes his head, “ ’fraid not.”

“Baaaaalllllllllllllssss!”

Asher feels a bit bad about that, but then he remembers something and suddenly he slyly smiles, “buuutttt, I may know where I can get you guys some.”

Both perked up at that.

“Seriously?? Spill!!” Rosie says grabbing the guy by the arms and giving him a small shake, he gives a chuckle, “Haha alright! Alrighty! Do either of you have any experience bow hunting?” he asks. At this question, Rosie’s chest puffs out a bit in pride, “I'm you're girl.”

“Great!’ Asher then looks up at Montanha, ‘What about you big guy? Did you do any hunting before the world went I Am Legend on us?”

Montanha looks a bit flustered at the question, “No, I wasn't really- wait.’ He stops when the second part of his question finally registered with him, he turns to look at Asher with a grin spreading on his face, ‘you know I Am Legend??”

“Oh no, here we go...” Rosie says with a slight eye roll.

Asher, on the other hand, seems to become equally excited as he grins up at Montanha, “Of course I know I Am Legend! I loved that movie! But I kinda wish they went with the alternate ending a bit more.”

“Seriously!!! Like the alternate ending is so much more thought-provoking!’ he exclaims, the volume of his voice, which he usually kept low to be disarming, quickly going up in his excitement, ‘Letting the zombie lady go and watching them take her back in and Robert seeing that this was their world now is just so much better than the generic girl showing up to the resistance group with the cure bullshit that almost every other movie does!!”

Asher didn’t seemed to be too effected by the sudden change of volume as he matched his excitement, “Right?! And it gives the movie so much more depth!”

“Oh and the part when his dog dies??”

“God yeah that part always makes me cry!”

“And honestly people give so much shit for the CGI looking bad, but like honestly for the time it’s not so bad-!”

“Hey nerds! Hunting?” Rosie asks cutting off their geeking out. Asher gives an apologetic grin as he flushed a bit in embarrassment, ”Oh-right! Ok, Montanha I know you said you didn't hunt too much, but do you think you could still be able to help us as much as you can?”

“Yeah, I should be able to.” He says nodding. “Yeah, don't worry, he's still learning, but my man here is a beast when it comes to lifting shit!” she says, patting Montanha's torso, like a used car salesman might pat the hood of a car. Asher grins at that, “Great! Follow me but watch your footing. I saw a group of deer moving through the woods a ways back. They'll probably be around here by now.” He says before leading the two of them in a new direction.

Eagerly, the two of them followed Asher as he led them through the woods. Both Asher and Rosie treaded silently, already entering a sort of hunting mode. Montanha trailed behind them and tried to stay quiet like them, but he lacked the instinct and he was the loudest out of the three. Which is why he decided to hang back some ways to not ruin their stealth.

After a few more yards Asher, stopped both Rosie and Montanha with a hand and gestured to a pack of deer grazing in a clearing just up ahead. Asher brought the two of them in close, whispering quietly as he shared the plan with the two of them “Ok, what I need you to do Rosie, is to use your bow and go for that older buck over there with the gray fur. Montanha, once the buck is down and the rest of the herd runs, we're gonna need your help to haul it back. Then we’ll all be able to eat like kings.”

Montanha and Rosie both nod as Rosie pulls out her bow. She nocks in an arrow and draws the string back. Her face is flat as her eyes taken in the environment around her and examined the deer. She draws a couple of deep controlled breaths in... and out, in...

She lets the arrow fly on the exhale.

The arrow wizzes threw the air like a dart and hits the deer dead in the side, piercing the heart and making it go down. The other deer, startled, immediately flee the area leaving the elder buck behind. “Nice! You got it!’ Asher says standing up and gestures for them to follow ‘Come on, let's make sure it's down.

Rosie jumps up with a cheer and starts making her way through the brush. Montanha followed the two, his face awashed with awe. Even after seeing her do that a dozen times, Montanha still couldn't help but be impressed by her skill, watching her take down that deer had been quite the sight. She truly was something else. Hopefully one day he could be at her level, but for now he was happy she was around to help him learn those skills and make these crucial kills.

Once they make it down there, Asher and Rosie check the deer. It was down, but not quite out as it let out shallow breaths and looked at the three of them with wild-eyed fear. Rosie hums as she sees this, “I guess the wind was a bit stronger than I thought, sorry about that old fella.” she says to the deer as she crouches down. “Montanha, hand me the knife please.” She asks holding out a hand for it.

Montanha’s stomach starts to churn, knowing what she's going to do next. He’d seen her do it a couple of times before, but he still swallows a bit dryly, as he hands the knife over. Once she has it, he turns his head to look away from what happens next. Asher see's Montanha’s reaction to this, and becomes a bit sympathetic, seeing that despite the size, this guy seemed like the gentle type of soul. Something that was probably hard to be in this more cutthroat world they now lived in.

Asher then looks over at the deer and starts stroking its neck in a calming manner, “Shhhh...it's ok old man...I'm sorry we have to do this.” He says soothingly, no doubt the deer was scared, but he did seem to calm down a bit as Asher continues to gently stroke his neck, its eyes relaxing and loosing some of that wild fear. Asher looks at Rosie and nods as she pushes the knife into the deer's chest.

Even as she does this however, Asher keeps on stroking the deer softly and hushing it calmly as the old buck finally slips away with a final exhale, “There we go.” Asher coos gently. Once the deed was done, Rosie slashed at the neck and turned the creature more downhill to help speed up the blood draining process. It didn't take too long for all the blood to gush out, and once it was drained, Rosie stood up and looked at Montanha, “alright big fella, you're up!”

Montanha nods as he now stoops down himself, bending his knees and hooking his arms underneath the carcass. Getting a good hold on the deer, in one fluid motion he lifted the body up with ease and hoisted it over his shoulder with only a small grunt of effort. Asher was a bit taken aback by the ease with which he did that, “Uh. Do you need any help with it at all, Montanha? That buck can't be light.” He says eyes kinda wide.

“No, it's fine. I got it.” Montanha said rather nonchalantly, there wasn’t even any strain in his voice as he said this, looking at Asher with a bright smile. The deer was heavy sure, but it wasn't anything he couldn’t manage.

“Alright, if you're sure. Damn, you gotta tell me your work out regiment. Maybe I won't be so lanky! Haha.” Asher jokes. Still, his face flushed a bit, most likely due to the now cooling evening air, Montanha thought. He chuckled, “It ain’t nothing special, comes with being the size of a literal mountain. Truthfully if I wanted too I could probably carry both you and this deer, if you’re willing to get thrown over the other shoulder.” Montanha jokes.

“Yeah he once had to do that for me after I twisted my ankle after a hunt!” Rosie adds.

“Haha wow. Uh, I’ll have to take you up on that next time I twist an ankle!” He jokes again with an even redder face. This cold evening air must really be getting to him, Montanha thought. “Well then lets get going before it gets too cold out here.” Montanha says as the three of them head back towards the camp.

Once they reached the camp Asher, wanting to be a polite guest, begins skinning the buck while Rosie started the kindling and Montanha begin gathering up the logs to start a fire. “So, where did yall come from before all this started?” Asher asks.

Rosie stoking the fire is the one to answer the question, “Oh well, the two of us used to work together back before the world ended, just like a shitty minimum wage job, yah know? And well, on the day that it happened Montanha had this like 'bad feeling’ after he saw some strange stuff happen outside and in the store. So he makes this whole big scene as he jumps on the PA system and tells everyone to evacuate the store! And boy you should’ve seen our manager, she was piisssseedd! She and Montanha start like bickering at the front of the store over the whole thing. And I was kinda freaking out at that point, cause I’m worried about my parents and I wanted to go home. So Montanha offered to take me back, and we ended up having to walk like half the damn day to get there cause everyone was already out of the city by that point. But he walks me all the way there and then well...’ she pauses and her face gets a bit sad, ‘well long story short we realized there was no going home. So we've just kinda been traveling together ever since.”

Montanha nods, “Yeah it's just been us.”

“I see... I was just ditching school when it all happened. Right there in the middle of town, the Creatures started attacking and I had to run back to the trailer park where my dad and older brother were. My brother didn't make it... And I don't know what happened to my dad, I can only hope he’s ok out there. But either way, I've been traveling alone ever since.” Asher says his head low and not meeting their eyes as he continues to field dress the deer.

Montanha and Rosie share a look as he says that, Montanha especially looking sympathetic as he looks at Asher, “That must've been tough...”

Rosie nods, “Yeah, I don't think I could've traveled by myself... Montanha is the only person that keeps me going some days.” She admits, looking back at Montanha as she does. Asher, setting the deer's hide aside sighs “It was rough a lot... But I'm at least glad I made a couple new friends today, even if just for today.”

At his words Montanha and Rosie share yet another look with each other. Montanha’s sad eyes already said enough for Rosie, who after a moment of silent debate, meets his sad eyes with a small nod and a smile. Once he got the silent confirmation, Montanha addressed Asher, “You know, if you want too, you can always travel with us for a while.’ Montanha offered, ‘As long as you can tolerate having to put up with this one…’ Rosie shot him another look, ‘but we got decent supplies, and there should be enough for a third person.”

Asher looks up at that, his eyes lighting up a little as he laughs a bit “Well, as long as you two are willing to put up with my dumbass, then I accept!”

Both Montanha and Rosie light up as well, “Well, you're in luck! This is a pack of fools. Now we can be the three amigos of stupid.” Rosie says as she grins.

Asher chuckles again, “Three amigos huh? Yeah I can work with that…”

“Alrighty! Now lets celebrate with some good ol’ deer meat! I need meat now!!” Rosie yells.

“Calm down you clown, we’ll cook some meat soon.” Montanha says rolling his eyes.

“Who are you calling a clown Sasquatch??”

“Ok beaver girl.”

“Boy I’m about to put your ass in the fire if you call me a beaver girl again” Rosie threatens. Montanha just laughs, not at all taking that threat seriously. Asher watches these two have their verbal tussle and for the first time in a long time, the cold and heavy feeling that has been sitting in his chest since the day he lost his family, starts to lighten a little.

#Montanha #Rosie #Asher #my ocs #Creatures #apocalypse #alien apocalypse #writing #my writing #FP writings #fanfiction

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merrock · 11 months

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HAPPY FIRST OF NOVEMBER!

Only two months left this year, how did that happen?! Either way, welcome to November! We're ready for a busy, family and warmth and love-filled month ahead, and hope that you are, too. Read on to see what to expect and any important things we have to share.

HAPPENING IN NOVEMBER!

November 18th -- RAILWAY 5K -- our annual run around town; everyone can participate, whether you're a pro, or a first time runner. run for yourself, or for charity!

NOVEMBER'S MINI-EVENTS!

November 3rd -- away football game; the final game of the season! but the team did make play-offs.

November 4th -- candy day; candy sales for all of your post-Halloween needs around the house!

November 10-13 -- world kindness weekend; a chance to do the kindest of things around town.

November 24 -- black friday; do all of your shopping around town!

November 25 -- small business saturday; make sure to save some shopping for local businesses!

EXTRA BIT OF FUN!

Busy time, easy task? We hope so! We've shared a task for November that you can fill out in character (if you want -- we won't kick you out for third personing it, promise). We'll also be accepting kind things about Merrock and about each other during kindness weekend, so stay tuned for that one!

IMPORTANT NOTES!

as usual, a reminder to read over our rules. we just want to make sure that all of our writers are aware of our expectations; small changes have been made, and a few pages have been updated.

please remember that triggers are triggering: period. whether it's a full out discussion, mention, brief allusion to, it's triggering, so just tag it with "trigger tw" and let that be that! also, do not bring up triggering subjects with someone OOC unless you know they, themselves, are not triggered by that, please.

if someone picks up your wanted connection, please be sure to plot and interact with them! and vice versa. both sides should do due diligence to carry through and make it happen.

in situations where something needs mod approval, please just be sure to have it from us before talking or posting about it. it may seem silly, but it keeps us all from having to backtrack!

be sure you are plotting with everyone! we have implemented the "three writers per character" rule, but of course we would like you to vary your writers. you don't always have to have a thread with every writer / character in the group, but it's really nice to branch out and spread some love.

BEHIND THE SCENES!

we have less events this month, and that's alright! we also have some fun mini-events for you to use for plotting, and we know that this month is always busy. it's okay! we'd really like to see you use this month to post open starters, plot with those you haven't, get some fun stuff going on your own.

but December will kick off with an outdoor Winter Fun Party, and we will have our Winter Holiday Market, plus a New Year's Eve party, so take this month to just plot, relax, and enjoy before the fun hits. start thinking about gifts. ;)

November is largely a "game planning" month for me -- meaning I will be working on saving resources for next year's events. we have some fun stuff in store!

+ THE HOLIDAYS AHEAD

With the holidays around the corner, we know that things are busier, and we understand that it may mean things slow down on dash a bit. So don't get discouraged! We are not going to cut back on our activity requirements, however, as we feel they are incredibly easy to meet, even during the busy times. What we are asking is that you, as players, are responsible with what you can handle. If you need to drop or pause characters, that is okay. Ask for hiatuses when needed, but remember that we do not offer semi-hiatuses. As admins, we absolutely understand and respect that real life comes first! We just also know that groups can't thrive and survive without activity, so all we ask is that you try your best during this busy month/season. We'll have a post closer to Christmas time with some guidance on posting gifts and any changes we need to make to checks, as well! xx

HAPPY NOVEMBER! xx

#merrockadmin

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inherstars · 6 months

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Change of Season

I deleted the previous chapters after I finished the fic, edited the whole thing, and decided to repost it as just one long story.

It was hard to leave him, but harder still to deny him. Eira could never deny him.

“She’ll come if you ask her,” Tyris reasoned, still trying to catch his breath. “Tell her I asked for her. That it’s important. That I need her.”

Eira could have drowned in those dark, yearning eyes. She wanted so badly to reach for him, to hold the other fairy’s head in her hands and feel its weight as he relaxed into her touch. Instead she nodded and eased her wings from their fold on her back, acceding to the request as if it had any hope of being fulfilled.

“Alright, I’ll go. But you can’t stay here. The Queensguard will be looking for you. And if they see you--”

“I can take them,” Tyris dismissed, even as he tightened an arm around his ribs. Crimson threads of blood wreathed his clenched fist, stark against the hard white knuckles, but he paid it as little mind as her warning. Eira sighed and gathered the layered tatters of her handmaid’s gown in both hands.

“You couldn’t fight off a cold right now, let alone Isobel’s guards. I’m doing you a favor by going for her, aren’t I? The least you could do in return is find somewhere to hide.”

“I won’t hide.”

She sighed. “Fine, then find a place to abide until I get back. Until we get back. I’ll bring her to you.”

He hesitated, head turning in tired scrutiny of the surrounding woods. It wasn’t only pride that deterred him… he really couldn’t fly very far. But Eira made a fair point.

“Fine. Where would you suggest?”

“Down, not up,” she said. “If they come looking for you, they’ll have a harder time finding you in the undergrowth.” Inspired, she suggested, “The old beech at the river’s edge, the one with boughs that overhang the bank. There’s cover there, among the roots.” When a rumble of thunder trembled the branch beneath them, she added hastily, “If the rain comes before we do, there’s an old owl’s nest higher up… you can shelter there.”

Tyris disliked her use of ‘shelter’ and ‘cover’ for their intimation of hiding, but he was in no condition to argue. He gathered himself, an arm braced around him. The needle sword hung limp from his other hand.

“I know the tree,” he said. His eyes cut to her, urgent and wounded. “You will tell her, won’t you--”

“I will.”

“That I need her,” he emphasized. “Say it just that way. Use those words.”

“And no others.” Eira withdrew, her wings opening like lotus petals from her back, an ombre of pale pink, lavender and green. “Now go, Tyris. Straight away.”

Tyris’s own wings flared open, oilslick translucent, silver stormlight chasing their edges like the blade of a sword. She backed away, slippered step by slippered step, watching until he’d launched to the air and found his zig-zagging course.

“Straight away,” Eira sighed, turning and speeding into the coming dark with a flash and blur of wings.

Isobel looked beautiful, as she always did. Resplendent. The royal clothiers began harvesting glowmoth silk from the day she was born, knowing this era would one day dawn. They’d only lately had enough to complete her coronation gown.

Eira felt cold and gray by comparison, pale cheeks still wind-chapped, her circlet of braids wildly haloed by loose strands. Once the dressing-women finished lacing her into the gown’s bodice, Isobel nodded to them in turn, dismissing them from her chamber.

She consulted her reflection in the mirror, adjusting the fit and lay of her skirts rather than joining Eira at the foot of the dais.

“What trouble has Tyris gotten himself into now?” she asked.

“He was intercepted outside the palace grounds. He was just… coming to see you.”

“And I imagine the Queensguard ran him off.”

“He didn’t even make it that far. One of the Aerie soldiers saw him on the wing. Their little kestrel got him.”

Isobel paused, meeting her own eyes in the mirror before she looked back at Eira.

“Is he alive?”

She frowned. “He got away. But he’s poorly. He needs help.”

Isobel returned to her reflection, this time fixing the lay of her hair about her shoulders, head turning from side to side as she debated the most flattering style.

“Well. We both know you’re going to go to him. Take what you need to put him right. But… hurry back. It’s unseemly for my handmaid to be out on her own, particularly in that corner of the woods. We have to think about appearances, now”

“He’s asking for you,” Eira insisted. “Practically pleading--”

“When isn’t he? And when will you accept that I can’t?”

“He’s hurt.”

“Which he could have easily avoided!”

The young Queen’s voice was sharp, and she sighed harshly to restore herself to order. Her hands smoothed the iridescent waterfall of her skirts, wings fanning the air slowly.

“You think that I’ve forgotten what once we shared, all three of us,” she said. “I haven’t. I was privileged not to be kept cloistered behind the palace walls, all those years… blessed that they allowed us to gambol and flit about wherever we liked in the kingdom. I am grateful, even, that they turned a blind eye to the friends we made beneath our caste. I like to think it will make me a better Queen.” Isobel turned to look at her, frank. “But those things are behind us now, Eira. We are no longer children, and though I know he struggles with it, Tyris too must face the fact that our paths have diverged, as they were always meant to. To pretend otherwise is a charade.”

She looked again at her own reflection, admiring, and with splayed fingers pantomimed the extension of an invisible crown from her golden curls. “Furthermore… once I’m crowned, I’ll expect you to fall in line as my subject, as you too are meant to. You would be well served to bid your final farewell to him tonight, as I did months ago.”

When Eira’s silence persisted, Isobel caught her eye in the mirror.

“He doesn’t love you. And he will not wake up one day and realize that he does.” She resumed her preening. “Is that what you want for yourself? A lifetime of heartache, pining after a man whose heart belongs to me? To dig yourself a grave, before you’ve even had a chance to live?”

“You don’t know that,” Eira defended, but too quickly. With too much hurt. Isobel looked at her again, firmly gathering the volume of her skirts in both hands as she descended the dais.

She leaned near, eyes hard, voice deliberate.

“Were he in this room, here, with the two of us, would he even see you? Would you exist to him?”

Eira held herself from recoiling, but barely. “If you want him so badly, then--”

“I don’t. He was a toy I played with in my girlhood, like a wicker-withe doll. But here we are, on the cusp of womanhood, and it is time to put those things away.” She stepped even closer. “It is my responsibility to keep our bloodlines pure. He isn’t one of us, Eira. Neither he nor any of his caste will ever be one of us. You would be wise to remember that.”

Standing back, Isobel’s arms folded. “You could have your pick of the Queensguard, you know. Cleave to one of my advisors, or any soldier in our ranks. Fix your hair and go find whatever young Aerie soldier nicked him… thank him for his service. Take more lover than one, for all I care, but do yourself a favor, please, and let him go.”

“As you have,” Eira accused, widening the gap between them. “After all we’ve been through together?”

But Isobel could not be moved, as regal in her cool removal as she was in her gown.

“We have been through a lot,” she agreed. “We were children together. Children.” She favored her smartly with one eye. “But no longer.”

Eira turned away, shaking her head, and with another sigh Isobel’s arms hung loose at her sides.

“Where are you going?”

“To put him right.”

She watched her handmaid’s retreat bitterly, then gathered her skirts to retake the dais.

“Be smart, Eira. Do right by yourself, while you’re at it.”

Though she didn’t think it was the same patrolman, one of the Aerie’s mounted soldiers intercepted Eira as she left the palace, offering a ride on his kestrel. It was an innocent invitation -- gallant, even -- but she couldn’t be sure Isobel wasn’t behind it.

She also couldn’t trust him not to attack Tyris on sight. She would have to go alone.

She donned her waxed-wool cloak, a satchel as heavy as her own two wings could carry, and set off into the storm. The wind was against her most of the way, lashing in wind-blown sheets that made tight turns through the trees a pinball hazard. The river was late-season high, frothing and lapping at the bank when she arrived, and to her frustration Tyris had made no move to vacate the beech’s latticework roots.

“You’re an idiot,” she declared, kiting low and hovering beside him in a stationary flutter of wings. He stood -- eagerly at first -- then sagged with gloom as he realized she’d come alone.

“She wouldn’t come, then?”

“Just follow me, would you? I was only joking about you fighting off a cold.”

Tyris relieved her of her satchel, zig-zagging the beech’s wide, squat trunk and into the shelter of its umbrella boughs. Like two fireflies in a mating dance he followed her, over and under, navigating higher and higher, until she found the old owl’s-nest hollow.

It was bigger and deeper than he anticipated, and after they’d spent a few seconds shaking the rain from their wings and shrugging from their sodden cloaks, they hovered down into the hollow proper.

Whatever had nested here most recently, the owls were clearly long gone.

Tyrus laid his needle sword aside, folding both arms against his chest as he wandered the space, dripping and marveling. Fairy craftsmanship was renowned among the Fae folk, but these furnishings were different Unnervingly alien. It took him a moment to recognize the trappings and trinkets of Men.

“Where did you--Eira, where did you get these things?”

“Sit, please,” she sighed, gesturing to a tinderbox bed in the hollow’s center. He palpated the scraps of velvet stitched together like a quilt on top, peeking beneath to find a cotton pouch mattress filled with rabbit fur.

“Tyris,” she insisted, upending the contents of her satchel. He settled gingerly, wincing as he worked out of his vest and tunic.

“Where did you get them?”

“Here and there,” she dismissed. “Men are wasteful. Thoughtless. You’d be surprised what they leave behind in their campsites.”

He bared himself to the skin, leaning aside to inspect, grimaching, where the kestrels talons caught him. The wounds were mostly clotted, but Eira plucked his hand away to keep him from reopening it. He eyed her.

“What they leave behind? When they pull up stakes, or when they’re off hunting?”

“Either or,” she shrugged.

“You’re not supposed to go anywhere near Men.”

“I’m not supposed to go anywhere near you, either, but here we are.”

Eira bent over him, carefully cleaning the narrow slices along his ribs, flinching as he hissed in pain and sucked his teeth. He looked away, reaching for something, anything, to distract himself.

“So,” he said. “She wouldn’t come. She won’t come. Ever again, I assume.”

Still a glutton for punishment. Eira gentled her voice to match her touch, but there was no sparing him pain.

“No. And I… I did try. But she was firm in her resolve. I’m sorry.”

Tyris grunted. “It’s fine. It was always going to end this way.”

Her eyes cut lightly to his face, then back to her work.

“Tyris… does it matter to you, what I say?”

He looked at her, surprised by the question.

“You know that it does.”

“Isobel doesn’t love you. Not as you want to be loved.” Eira sighed, turning to her bag, and unspooled a length of deckled linen bandages. “Not as you deserve to be loved. And I… I know how that feels.”

Tyris watched as she worked, not her hands but her face, distracted enough by the sting of her words that he forgot those of her ministrations. His head tilted.

“Are you too in love?”

Eira’s hands hesitated. She licked her lips, flustered, then reached around him to wind him in linen like a bobbin. He raised his arms up and out of the way, shivering at her breath on his skin.

“...of a kind.”

“Mm. Then tell me about him.”

“Does it matter?”

“You know it does.”

She knotted and tucked the bandage, relaxing to a kneel, and while she cleaned her hands Tyris climbed wincingly back into his tunic.

“Well. He’s stubborn and hard-headed. He sets his sights higher even than he can fly, but no matter… he fights for what he wants. I think I admire that most about him.” Sadly, she added, “But… all that aside, I think my feelings are overshadowed by my desire, finally, for once, to be the thing he wants.”

Tyris frowned, rankled on her behalf.

“What? You mean he doesn’t--”

“Feel the same? No, I don’t think so. He doesn’t love me. Not as I want to be loved.”

He leaned forward, elbows on knees and eyes earnest. “Not as you deserve to be loved.”

She’d been wiping and wiping her hands all the while, losing sense of what they were doing, but now they fell limply to her lap. She stared at a point in the darkness, fixed but unfocused.

“...Do I?”

Tyris never had any reason to worry for Eira; ever level-headed and mild, always the voice of reason, a foil to Isobel’s sharp tongue and his obstinance. She could be quiet, yes, but never troubled. Certainly never so deeply, fearfully lost as she seemed now.

He knelt down from the bed, crawling on palms and knees to her, and took her hands. She looked at him from far away and he jogged her hands together.

“You know that you do.”

“I don’t know anything anymore,” Eira argued weakly. Her eyes came back into focus. “Isobel said to me, not even two hours ago, that we are no longer children. And she’s right. That season of our lives has passed. I feel too old to be coming to that realization, and too young to be digging my grave.”

Eira stood suddenly, with a sleepwalker’s dispossessed calm. Tyris stood with her, plastering a hand at his ribs.

“Eira,” he begged. “What is it?”

“Oh,” she said, the sound a mewl. She covered her mouth and paced away, then back, eyes scouring the darkness. The half-light sliced like a gleam across her wings as she turned. “I don’t want this to be my grave.”

Tyris, frightened, seized her shoulders as if to jar her from a dream. She couldn’t recall him ever looking at her that way before -- into her, searching -- and welled with tears for how long and how desperately she’d been waiting for that.

“Why do you speak so suddenly of burial?,” he asked. “You’re here with me now, aren’t you? Vital, alive?”

“Am I? Here with you? You see me?”

““Is this a joke? Of course I see you.”

“And would you, still, if Isobel was here with us now?”

Her name was a dash of cold water. He didn’t release her but the grip of his hands relaxed in surprise. EIra pressed, words warbling with grief, “Would I exist to you, then? Or am I -- have I always been -- merely a… a tool to bring you nearer to her? Or her nearer to you. Am I condemned to be a shepherd’s hook that you use to draw closer the things you actually desire?”

Oh, he saw now. He understood. Eira sobbed and bent her head to her hands, and her tears washed the foundations out from under him. Tyris backed away, his own hands spread open in the air before him, tetherless and lightheaded. He trembled a forefinger at her, trying to make a point.

“You… you too are in love…”

She wept into her palms, ugly heaves for breath that quaked through every bone and fiber.

“...of a kind…”

“Tell me again about him. I know already that he is hard-headed and stubborn. And what else?”

She pulled herself together slowly, cheeks shining, wristing at her eyes to clear them.

“He is… sweet. Earnest. Kinder than the world has been to him and those like him. There is good in him, and potential that most don’t see, but I do. I do.”

He leaned forward, a hand at his ribs, but his pain was somewhere deeper.

“...and he is blind, as well.”

Eira looked at him with enough pity for them both.

“And he doesn’t love me.”

Tyris looked up, abruptly reaching a hand for her again. This time she withdrew, head shaking.

“No,” she insisted. “He doesn’t. We’ve been over this already, haven’t we? He doesn’t love me as I want to be loved. I don’t want to be a consolation prize. I deserve to be yearned for. I deserve to have a finger trace my cheek as I sleep… to be the arms that someone aches for at day’s end. But… Isobel’s words are eating at me. I’ve done right by you both, how now do I do right by myself?”

There was nothing he could say that she would not take as hedging his bets. No matter how carefully he wanted to beg for a chance, the well between them was already too poisoned for her to risk a drink.

“Listen,” he said. Again she shook her head, sliding back another step.

“No.”

“Eira--”

“She was right. And I hate that she was right, but it’s true. Our paths have diverged. To pretend otherwise is a charade. Anything that you could put forward to me now -- no matter how well intentioned, no matter how sweetly put, no matter how desperately my heart longs to hear it? A charade.”

He advanced on her and she withdrew, her eyes pleading, apologetic. Please.

“Am I to lose you both on the same night, then?” he said.

“The fallacy,” she answered. “Is that we, any of us, ever belonged to one another to begin with.”

Gathering her courage, willing herself not to bend, Eira stole forward and took his hands.

“Isobel wasn’t yours any more than you were mine. I see -- and so must she -- that I don’t belong to her either. We have been privileged to walk alongside each other for a season of our lives, and now that season is done. Isobel will be Queen, and you will be…” her voice trailed off, eyes smokey with the last wisps of dying romance. “Sweet. And earnest. And kinder than the world has been to you.”

With a smile she curled the backs of her fingers against his cheek. “...And stubborn, and hard-headed besides.”

“And blind,” he said, touching the hand at his face.

“Perhaps, ” she agreed. “But we all are, a bit. I cannot fault you that.”

He lifted his hand from hers, letting her have it back.

“And what of you? You won’t go home?”

“I can’t go back. Home means something different now.” Once more Eira stood back, this time resigned. She turned her head in profile, as if to watch her own wings as they opened. “I can’t stay here, either. Perhaps I’ll see where it is Men go, when they are not in our woods. I’d like to understand why they leave behind the things they do. There might be a wisdom in it I can learn from.”

Tyris followed her silently as she moved about the hollow, gathering everything into her satchel she could possibly use. He helped her into her cloak, their wings humming as they rose from the depths, back to the mouth of the nest. There was just enough room to balance there and embrace.

“I hope to see you again,” Tyris said to her as they peeled reluctantly apart. “I mean that more than you probably believe.”

“No, I believe you,” she promised. “If fate wills it, I’ll come back once I have a few more seasons behind me. Once I better know who I am in the light of day. Out of everyone’s shadow.”

“That person. My friend.” Tyris said, “I look forward to meeting her.”

Eira smiled, still tinged with sadness, but finally, finally with some hope.

“Me as well.”

#my writing #my fic #fantasy #fairies #short story

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tiramisiyu · 3 years

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Tears of Themis: Xia Yan/Luke 【妄夜之魇】 Looming Nightmare - Date Translation

Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist | Unsubbed Video

Transcript below cut:

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Part 1

Forest

In the morning, a group of villagers walked slowly through the forest’s rocks and mud.

Nearby, a young man dressed as a knight noticed them.

Luke: Please wait!

The young man pushed aside the dense branches, rushing over to the villagers.

Villager Captain: You are…?

Luke: My apologies for troubling you all. I’m Luke Pearce, a knight.

As he spoke, he balled up his left hand and placed it before his chest, displaying a standard gesture of courtesy to the villagers.

Villager Captain: So you’re a knight. Greetings, is anything the matter?

Luke: I’d like to ask you all if there is anyone who knows where the evil dragon is?

Villager A: E-evil dragon?!

When they heard “evil dragon”, a momentary fear displayed on all the villagers’ faces.

The whispers among them gradually grew louder, and the originally calm group gradually began to lose control.

Villager A: W-why are you searching for the evil dragon…

Villager B: Why are you asking about that beast’s whereabouts?! Are you trying to get it to come over here again?!

Villager B: O-our village, it…

Villager Captain: Calm down.

The young captain placed a hand on the shoulder of the middle-aged man to calm him down temporarily.

Villager Captain: We were impolite. Sir Knight, none of us have malicious intentions. It’s just…

Luke: Were… you all also attacked by the dragon?

Villager Captain: Indeed…

The young man sighed.

Villager Captain: We originally lived in a nearby village. Three days ago, our village was attacked by that dragon.

Villager Captain: The flames it breathes, and its massive wings that kick up gales when they beat…

Villager Captain: That’s how our houses and fields were thoroughly annihilated.

Villager Captain: Many villagers that couldn’t escape were left forever in those ruins.

Villager Captain: But that dragon didn’t stop there. It… even carried off lots of innocent people.

Villager Captain: That’s what happened to my wife and that grandma’s only daughter.

Villager Captain: We don’t even know if they’re still alive.

The young man spoke until his voice faded. The hands that hung on his sides were tightly clenched, like he was trying to control his emotions.

Villager Captain: Like us, lots and lots of villages and cities have been destroyed by it in the past several days.

Villager Captain: Those attacked by it can only flee in search of a temporary safe place.

Villager Captain: We…

Luke: … I’m sorry for making you recall such horrible things.

The young knight lowered his head in apology.

Luke: On my journey, I’ve also heard lots about its terrible actions.

Luke: When I saw you all from far away, I thought you were all normal passersby. I didn’t think…

Villager Captain: It’s alright. We do have to learn to face this eventually.

Villager Captain: Although, Sir Knight, why are you looking for that dragon?

Luke: Because…

A flash of desolation appeared on the knight’s face.

Luke: Because I’m looking for someone who is incredibly important to me.

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[Flashback]

Fortune-Telling Location

The fortune-teller fiddled playfully with the crystal ball in her hands. The lights floating in the air moved as she did.

With a sliver of curiosity on her features, she lifted her gaze and looked over her visitor, then placed her hands piously in front of her chest.

Fortune-teller: Esteemed Sir Knight, may I ask why you are here?

Luke: …

The knight’s rigid body leaned forward slightly, an unconcealable urgency and distress in his eyes.

Luke: I want to find someone. She’s vanished, and I have no idea where she is.

Fortune-teller: Oh? Find someone? Who might it be?

Luke: Someone… that grew up with me since childhood.

Fortune-teller: Someone that grew up with you?

Luke: Yes.

He released a deep sigh.

Luke: It’s been eight years since the start of the war.

Luke: The day I left for battle, I promised her that I would return home safely and live with her forever, never to leave again.

Luke: But after the war ended and I returned to the village, all that welcomed me was an empty house.

Luke: I asked everyone around about where she went, but they all said that she suddenly vanished one day.

Luke: Only after did I find out that everyone had thought that I’d died in battle.

Luke: She…

The knight grasped tight on the longsword in his hands. The ruby on the hilt flashed faintly in the darkness.

The fortune-teller leaned against the table, holding her chin with her hand.

Fortune-teller: Have you ever thought that she just couldn’t keep waiting anymore, or that she might have moved elsewhere because she thought you were dead?

Luke: She wouldn’t. We’ve lived together for so many years. I know best about what sort of person she is.

Luke: I know that even if I made her sad or if everyone said I was dead…

Luke: As long as she hasn’t seen my corpse, she won’t give up, and she’ll keep waiting for me…

Luke: … Something must have happened for her to choose to leave without a farewell.

Luke: So, I want to find her. I want to know what exactly happened.

The young knight’s voice gradually weakened, until it was nearly inaudible.

The fortune-teller tittered quietly.

Fortune-teller: I understand. Then, please wait a moment—

She placed her hand on the crystal ball. As the lights and shadows drifted, an image of a dragon occupying the plains gradually appeared.

Luke: This is…?

Fortune-teller: Do you know of the legend of the evil dragon?

Luke: Evil dragon?

Fortune-teller: Yes. This dragon runs amok over the continent, scattering destruction and annihilation everywhere…

Fortune-teller: Its evil reputation is now common knowledge among all people.

Luke: But what does that have to do with her?

Fortune-teller: I am unsure of the exact connection it has to her, but based on the image in the crystal ball…

Fortune-teller: You just need to kill the dragon and obtain the treasure chest it protects to discover the way to find her.

Luke: …

Luke: Are you sure?

Fortune-teller: Of course. My divinations have never been wrong. If not, Sir Knight…

The fortune-teller unconsciously knocked a few times on the crystal ball, and a clear sound reverberated in the room.

Fortune-teller: Then you wouldn’t have come to find me, correct?

Luke: … They say that you are the greatest fortune-teller on the continent, and that there’s nothing you don’t know.

Fortune-teller: Which is even more reason for you to believe me, no?

Luke: …

The knight nodded ponderously.

Luke: I understand. Where is the dragon right now?

Fortune-teller: That’s for you to find out.

Fortune-teller: However, there is something that you must think over first.

Fortune-teller: You are a brave and martially skilled knight, but the path ahead may be much more dangerous than you imagine.

Fortune-teller: Even if so, will you still proceed?

Luke: Yes, I must.

Fortune-teller: Even if the price it requires is your everything?

[Flashback end]

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Luke: So I can only do as the fortune-teller instructed, travelling as I search for clues on the dragon.

Villager Captain: It seems like the person you’re looking for… must have been captured by the dragon too.

When he finished listening to the knight’s story, the captain gave a quick conclusion.

Villager Captain: The young lady you’re looking for isn’t the only one. In the past while, that dragon has already captured many good girls.

Villager Captain: Many noble ladies and wives in the city weren’t even spared.

Luke: Then… has anyone ever returned among those who were captured?

Villager B: No – no one has ever seen them again after they were taken.

Villager B: Whether the dragon has hurt them, whether they’re still alive, or where they’re kept… no one knows anything.

Luke: No one knows anything, huh…

Luke: If no one knows, that means there’s still hope, right?

The knight suddenly lifted his head, looking firmly at the villagers.

Part 2

Forest

In the forest, the young knight faced the villagers, his gaze firm.

Luke: If no one knows, that means there’s still hope, right?

Villager B: This…

Looking at the villagers’ somewhat hesitant expressions, the knight smiled slightly.

Luke: I understand your concerns, but to me, as long as there is still one thread of opportunity, I will definitely not give up.

Luke: So…

Luke: Please, do any of you know anything at all about the dragon?

Villager Captain: …

The villagers looked at each other. The young captain tilted his head as if trying to recall something.

Villager Captain: I don’t know much about the dragon, but…

Villager Captain: Three days ago, when I was fleeing the village, I think I saw that dragon flying towards the highest mountain peak on the northeast of this forest.

Luke: The peaks in the northeast…

The knight looked towards the direction that the villager captain was pointing towards. He could vaguely see the shape of a mountain peak there.

Villager Captain: Yes, but that mountain is farther from here than it looks.

Villager Captain: Plus, there’s also a path full of thorns at the end of this forest that normal people can’t get through at all.

Villager Captain: Currently, not many people have gone there, so I can’t be sure if the dragon is actually there.

Luke: Is that so… but it’s worth a try.

Villager B: Uh… I’ve also heard a little about the dragon.

The formerly irritable middle-aged man, possibly being moved by the words earlier, hesitated for a moment before he spoke.

Villager B: That dragon probably does live on that mountain peak.

Luke: Are you sure?

Villager B: Yes. Two weeks ago, an artisan from the city went with his brothers there.

Villager B: But several days later, aside from a young man, no one in that group returned.

Villager B: That young man said that they were attacked by that beast on the mountain…

Villager B: But sadly, his wounds were too grave, and he passed away a few days later.

Villager B: After that, no matter how much money the city nobles offered, no one else dared to go put their lives on their line.

Villager B: We also…

The middle-aged man sighed.

Villager B: We’ve… given up already.

Luke: …I understand. Thank you all for giving me so much information.

Luke: It’s not that early anymore, and I need to head for that mountain, so I’ll be heading off.

Villager B: Sir Knight, are you really going to look for that dragon?

Villager B: With how massive and brutish that dragon is, it’ll kill you!

Villager B: You don’t know how that young man who returned…

Luke: Thank you for your concerns, but this is a promise I made with her. No matter how difficult the path forward is…

The young knight looked straight at the group in front of him, his voice firm and resolute.

He spoke each word emphatically, answering the question earlier, yet seeming more like he was telling himself.

Luke: No matter how difficult the path forward is, even if everyone has given up, I will not stop moving forward.

Villager B: …

Villager Captain: …

The villagers fell silent for a moment.

A long moment after, the young captain spoke.

Villager Captain: Sir Knight, since you’ve made your decision to go, we have no reason to continue trying to persuade you.

Villager Captain: The road ahead will be difficult, and defeating the dragon is sure to be no easy task…

Villager Captain: All we can do is to pray that you find the one you love quickly and return safely.

Luke: Thank you, everyone.

The knight made a sincere gesture of courtesy again towards the villagers, then turned around and walked into the depths of the forest.

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Plains

After a long trek, the young knight bypassed that rumoured thorny block and arrived at the wilds outside the forest.

Luke: …

Though it was called the wilds, all the plants had long been burned into crisps. Black dust had settled densely over the rocks.

A massive mountain stood at the edge of his range of vision. A dense black fog lingered over the peak, quiet and strange.

At the foot of the mountain, many volcanoes and short rock mounds created continuous undulations, extending to the horizon.

Luke: …

He lifted his head and looked towards the faraway sky. The red light of the pre-sunset sun was harshly dazzling.

Luke: A precursor to the solar eclipse, huh…

Luke: Maybe it really is as the person before said…

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

[Flashback]

Villager B: Sir Knight, before passing, that person who returned said…

Villager B: On the day of a solar eclipse, it seems like the dragon’s strength will weaken.

Luke: Weaken?

Villager B: Yes, that person kept repeating this before he passed, so I remember it very clearly.

Villager B: If you really must get near it, maybe you can choose this day.

Luke: … Understood.

[Flashback]

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Luke: …

Luke: Based on the appearance of the sun, the eclipse will only start tomorrow…

Luke: The volcanoes around look pretty unstable right now. Now is definitely not the best time to act.

Luke: I’ll build a temporary residence near the forest and wait for a chance.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Temporary Residence

In the wooden hut, the knight was in the middle of pre-battle preparations.

Luke: …

He cleaned his sword in the firelight. When his gaze brushed over the ruby on the hilt, he fell into a momentary trance.

Luke: …

Luke: Soon, I’ll be able to see you again.

Luke: Right?

Luke: …

In the empty room, the only response he received was the crackling of burning firewood.

The young knight lowered his head.

The emotions that he had continuously restrained quietly trickled out where no one could hear, under the comfort of the moonlight.

Luke: I’m sorry… I couldn’t contact you even once for so long…

Luke: You must have been so worried during then…

Luke: …

Luke: I wonder how you’re doing right now, and if you’ve encountered any danger…

Luke: Were you scared, facing that dragon alone? Were you injured?

Luke: Don’t be scared, I’ll save you very soon.

The wind blew past soundlessly. In the quiet hut, the knight’s voice became clearer and clearer.

It seemed as if a burning flame had ignited in his eyes. The moonlight shone in, casting light over the entirety of the room.

Luke: We promised that no matter what happened, you wouldn’t leave, and we’d always be together…

Luke: I won’t let you bear everything on your own anymore.

Luke: It’ll be tomorrow… wait for me.

He smiled, his fingertips brushing over his own reflection in the ruby.

Luke: Goodnight.

The knight placed his sword by his side and sank into a shallow sleep.

Just like all the nights in the past many years.

Part 3

Garrison Camp

Troop Leader: Hey, Luke, you returned with perfect timing.

Troop Leader: Just finished bringing over the new delivery of rations. I brought you the letter from the one at your home.

When he saw the person who was placing the letter on his bed, the knight shook his head helplessly.

Luke: Leader, we’re still in the troops right now. Even if you want to address her…

Troop Leader: Alright, alright. The letter that your wife sent, does that work?

Luke: We haven’t gotten married yet…

Troop Leader: Hahahahaha—

Troop Leader: Hey, honestly though, Miss MC really does treat you well.

Troop Leader: I have no idea how she managed to get that many rations and letters sent over here.

Troop Leader: If I remember right, she’s just a commoner, right? The type without even a fief. Tsk tsk tsk, she really is good.

As he teased him, the leader came up to the side of the bed, jokingly bumping against the young knight’s shoulder.

Troop Leader: Luke, I feel like she’s even more proactive than you. Bring out your knight’s spirit already!

Troop Leader: Though we can’t contact the outside world, I’m cheering you on inside, yeah?

Luke: Thanks, leader.

Luke: Although there’s something you’ve gotten wrong. Though I can’t send her replies…

He layered the letters together, placing them in the closest spot to his heart in his armour.

Luke: This is my answer to her. My heart is always with her.

Luke: The day the war ends, I will return to her side, safe and sound.

Luke: When that time comes, I won’t leave her ever again.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Forest

Luke: …

When he saw the multiple letters in front of him, the young knight sunk into his memories.

To prepare for the nearing battle, he came to the riverside at dawn to change the medicines on the wounds he received in the war.

Luke: Back then, I thought that I would be able to reunite with you after the war ended.

Luke: We’d then be able to be like thousands of other normal people, living out our lives healthily and safely.

Luke: But I never thought…

He couldn’t help grasping tight on the letter papers.

Luke: Did you know that during those eight years, I kept thinking about you over and over, speaking on my own, just like this?

Luke: I remember every single thing you wrote to me about.

Luke: You said that the neighbouring auntie’s puppy stepped all over the rose garden at the doorway again.

Luke: You said that the honey that a friend gave you was very sweet, and you wanted to see the bee yard too, but you didn’t go because you knew I wouldn’t agree.

Luke: And so much more… I’ve remembered every single thing perfectly.

Luke: I… really… miss you.

The knight couldn’t help covering his face with his hand, as certain crystalline things fell slowly between his fingers.

A few minutes later, he took a deep breath, then put down his hand.

Luke: This is bad, I lost control of my emotions for a moment.

Luke: I wasn’t even that sad last night, but maybe it’s because I saw you in my dreams again, so I…

Luke: Now isn’t the time to be sentimental. I’ve got to bolster myself to face the upcoming battle.

The sunlight shone into the forest, past the gaps between the swaying leaves, falling dappled on the knight’s armour.

Far away, the sun displayed a light that was different from normal.

Luke: Is it coming…

He quickly put on his clothes and grasped onto his sword again.

Luke: Wait for me.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Plains

Because he had already crossed over the forest once, the knight arrived at the plains much faster than before.

Clouds smothered the originally-blue skies. The roars of the dragon resounded nonstop at the horizon, and the air was heavy enough to make breathing difficult.

Luke: …

Suddenly, the roars of the dragon became unusually clear. A massive black shadow rushed down from the mountain peak, gradually nearing the centre of the plains.

Luke: !!!

Luke: This is my chance!

The knight immediately broke into a sprint towards the black shadow.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

The moment he arrived at the centre of the plains, the dragon was landing with two young villagers in its claws.

The two people tossed on the round tumbled a few times. Tears covered their faces, and their hands were tightly clasped.

Luke: !!!

Luke: Run!

The knight threw a wooden gun towards the dragon, then yanked out the dagger at his waist and threw it backhandedly on the ground near the forest.

He loaded an arrow as he sprinted towards the dragon.

Luke: Take that dagger and get out through the forest now!

Luke: I’ve left markers on the path. Follow those!

Female Villager: O-okay… tha-thank you!

The pitiful villagers tremblingly picked up the dagger and ran towards the forest as they supported each other.

They passed by the young man, kicking up sand and stone. The two sides of the battlefield changed in a flash.

Luke: …

The knight did not look back to the already faraway villagers. He calmly set his hands on the bow.

The dragon roared furiously at him, spitting a ball of fire.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: …

The knight stepped swiftly off the rocks in front of him, resolutely loosing an arrow towards the dragon, sidestepping the close call of the fire.

Luke: This won’t do. It’s too fast.

Luke: I won’t be able to dodge at all with speeds like that…

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: !!!

Without giving the knight room to think, the dragon launched its second attack.

It looked again at the person in front of it and spat out a large amount of fire. The flickering firelight lit up the entire desolate plains.

The knight dodged the attack. The winds surged, the glint of the blade shone, and the surroundings continuously heated up.

Luke: …

Luke: This is how strong it is when it’s weakened?

Luke: If this keeps going, I’ll lose all my footholds.

Luke: What do I do…

His brow wrinkled tightly, looking at the dragon that had built up its power and was waiting to attack again. His hands held his hilt tight—

Evil Dragon: Roar—

The dragon opened its mouth wide, flying towards the young man.

Rocks were sent flying from the intense movements of the two opponents. The knight planted his feet on the shards of rock, both of his hands gripping his longsword.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Want to kill me? Keep dreaming!

As if he couldn’t hear the dragon’s roars at all, he was completely focused on looking for a chance to attack.

Luke: If it’s the instant before it breathes fire… as long as I grab that chance…

Luke: If I can strike your vitals…

Luke: I’ll still have a chance!

Evil Dragon: Roar—

The dragon threw back its head, releasing a long roar towards the skies.

Luke: Now!

The knight lifted the sword and sprinted up to the dragon, slashing down on the dragon’s neck with all his strength.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Blood sprayed, and the massive creature struggled, writhing, and finally spread its wings, flying off towards the heights.

Luke: Don’t even think about escaping!

The young man ran up, and three arrows cut through the air.

Howling winds blew as the eclipse fully set in. On the faraway peaks, the contours of a black castle could suddenly be seen.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

The dragon dodged the arrows, roaring in pain, then escaped in flight towards the faraway castle.

Luke: It all ends here.

The young knight discarded his longbow and gripped at his sword, planning to chase after the dragon.

However, right then, a pattern of lights shone from the astrolabe he was carrying.

He froze for a moment and thought back on what the fortune-teller had told him before—

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

[Flashback]

Fortune-Telling Location

Fortune-Teller: Wait.

Fortune-Teller: Keep this with you.

The fortune-teller called out to the young man who was on the verge of leaving and handed a metal astrolabe to him.

Luke: This is…?

Fortune-Teller: If the astrolabe starts flashing, it’s a warning from me to stop fighting immediately.

Luke: … I am well aware of when I should stop.

Fortune-Teller: Sir Knight, you do indeed have lots of fighting experience.

Fortune-Teller: But I am the only one who can help you, so trust me, alright?

Luke: …

[Flashback end]

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Luke: …

Luke: Ouch…

The knight frowned in pain, as if he had finally come to his senses from the tense atmosphere, and looked over himself out of habit.

Luke: !!!

The dark armour had long been stained in blood, and some of the parts that were exposed were covered in wounds of all sizes.

Luke: I was… injured this badly?

Luke: Sure enough… that dragon’s strength…

He ultimately decided to stop.

Part 4

Temporary Residence

The knight closed the door to the residence.

He leaned on the wall, like an injured little animal.

Luke: How could this be…

Luke: Is the difference in strength between me and that dragon that big?

Luke: How am I going to save her at this point… I…

The astrolabe beside him shone again. Then, after a flash of white light at the doorway, the fortune-teller pushed open the door.

Luke: It’s you?

Fortune-Teller: Sir Knight, I hope you have been well since our last meeting.

The fortune-teller looked over the person in front of her, her eyes squinting slightly.

Fortune-Teller: Looks like you listened to what I told you. Well done.

Luke: …

Fortune-Teller: This expression… were you not willing to give up?

Luke: None of your business.

Fortune-Teller: None of my business… haha, do you remember what I said back then?

Luke: …

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

[Flashback]

Fortune-Teller: You are a brave and martially skilled knight, but the path ahead may be much more dangerous than you imagine.

Fortune-Teller: Even if so, will you still proceed?

Luke: Yes, I must.

Fortune-Teller: Even if the price it requires is your everything?

[Flashback end]

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Luke: …

Fortune-Teller: Has reality now changed your mind?

Luke: No. No matter when, I will not change my mind.

Fortune-Teller: Will not change? Then… what can you do?

Fortune-Teller: You must have realized the natural difference in strength between you and the dragon from battling.

Fortune-Teller: It looked like you won the battle, but what are the results?

Fortune-Teller: Even while it was weakened during the solar eclipse, the only effective attack you landed was that single slash.

Fortune-Teller: While you…

The fortune-teller looked at the young knight’s right arm, mottled with blood and some burn marks.

Fortune-Teller: You’re covered in wounds already. How much longer can you hold on for?

Luke: …

Luke: I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t give up. I must get that treasure chest and find her.

Luke: I don’t want to think about anything else.

Fortune-Teller: … Is it worth it?

The fortune-teller went silent for a moment, then asked this question suddenly.

Luke: It is.

Luke: I promised her that I’d return to her, that I’d safely tell her that everything had ended, that we would never be apart from then on.

Luke: I think about her every day, and I look forward to seeing her again every day. I’ve reread each of the letters she sent too many times to count.

Luke: She is my everything. I won’t just give up like this.

Fortune-Teller: … So you plan to seek out that dragon again?

Luke: Yes, and I don’t only plan to find it…

Luke: As you said, I will defeat and kill it, no matter what the price is that I must pay.

Fortune-Teller: … I understand.

Fortune-Teller: Then let me tell you one more thing.

Luke: ???

Fortune-Teller: Do you know why that dragon always flies towards that castle?

Luke: Do you mean that the treasure chest is…

Fortune-Teller: Yes. It’s because the box that it values the most is in the castle…

Fortune-Teller: When it is attacked, it will naturally return there.

Fortune-Teller: In ten days, the eclipse will end, and the sky will return to normal.

Fortune-Teller: The skies before daybreak are always the darkest…

Fortune-Teller: In ten days, when the sky is lightening, the dragon’s power will be at its weakest.

Fortune-Teller: It will also lose the ability to breathe fire.

Fortune-Teller: If you must go, go on that day.

Luke: !!!

Luke: Thank you.

Fortune-Teller: No need for thanks, but Sir Knight, let me give you one last warning.

Fortune-Teller: The path you have chosen is full of the unknown. I hope you will not regret this in the future.

Luke: I am sure that I won’t.

Fortune-Teller: That would be best.

The fortune-teller looked at the knight, smiled strangely, then left.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

After the knight cleaned his wounds, he finally had some time to rest.

Like usual, he stood his sword by his side. When he looked over the ruby on the hilt, he suddenly stopped.

Luke: This ruby… you gave it to me.

He gently stroked it, his warm breath leaving a mist on the gem with his movements.

Luke: I remember on the day I set out, you stood at the very front of those who were sending off the troops, a total mess of tears.

Luke: I was the one who was leaving, but you were even more agitated than me.

Luke: You kept reminding me to take care of myself, to not force myself.

Luke: Then I held your face with a smile, telling you that it wasn’t like I wouldn’t return.

Luke: …

The knight suddenly turned away.

Only when he was able to smile again did he turn his head back, as if everything before had just been an illusion.

Luke: Before I left, you took off a ruby from the mirror you always used and embedded it on my sword.

Luke: You said that a highly skilled person gave you that mirror, and it had magical power.

Luke: Especially these rubies, which represent inextinguishable fire and burning vitality.

Luke: We made a promise together, and then you watched me mount the horse, but I never looked back.

Luke: I thought that I would be able to see you soon after the war ended.

Luke: But now that I think about it, I should have taken one more look at you back then.

A slight bitterness appeared on the young knight’s face, but it was soon replaced by his usual expression.

He laid down on the bed, looking at the fluid moonlight in the sky.

Luke: Did you know that there’s something that I didn’t tell you back then?

Luke: Rubies don’t only represent fervour and life. They also represent love.

Luke: I told myself that after the war, I would confess to you, and let this ruby bear witness to our love.

Luke: So, please wait a little more for me.

Luke: There are still ten days.

Luke: No matter what the price is, I will be the victor.

The knight mumbled as he slowly closed his eyes.

Outside the hut, a black mist rose, then vanished in the silence. The moment that the smoke dissipated, a woman’s quiet laugh seemed to sound from deep within.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Plains

Ten days later, as the fortune-teller said, the young knight made his way towards the old castle.

But he did not successfully reach his destination, because on the plains under the castle…

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: …

Luke: Are you here to obstruct me?

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Looks like the fortune-teller was telling the truth. The treasure chest really is in the castle.

Luke: So it must also be true that you’re at your weakest today.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

As if in response to the knight’s words, the dragon snarled in fury. Its massive claws beat heavily on the ground, drawing up plumes of dust.

The knight retreated a few steps, held up his longsword, and stood in battle stance.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: …

Luke: You sure look enthusiastic.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Perfect, then. Let’s have a fierce battle this time.

Luke: This is the last chance. I won’t let you escape again.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: …

At the edge of the sky, the black sun that had persisted for ten days started to “move”. The light of tiny stars shone through the air, casting light on the person and dragon.

The knight lifted his sword.

Luke: Let’s start.

Dust flew as the shining sword blade cut through. Both human and dragon soon were immersed in intensive battle.

Their battlegrounds shifted several times, from the plains to the mountain peak, finally arriving to the front of the castle’s door.

The eclipse was slowly retreating, and the dark sky was beginning to show its original hue.

Compared to last time, the battle this time lasted for a very, very long time.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Old Castle on the Peak

Luke: Urk…

The knight brandished his longsword, pushing himself to block the dragon’s attack.

The originally flat field had already been ruined to the point where it was difficult to stand on. Thunder boomed intermittently as dark clouds accumulated above.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

The massive dragon moved again.

Luke: Ow…

Luke: …

This time, the knight’s resistance started to become sluggish.

Scorching blood sprayed out. He lost his footing, falling brutally onto the ground.

Luke: Ugh…!

Luke: No… I can’t fall yet…

He stabbed the longsword into the ground with difficulty and stood staggeringly up again.

He looked at his enemy, his bloodied, dirtied face full of resolution.

Luke: Ha… what sort of battle is this? Just a bunch of mutual killing attempts…

Luke: But did you think I’d be scared? Stop kidding around.

Luke: You have no idea what sorts of emotions I put behind each slash.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Although, you don’t need to know, because…

The knight suddenly brandished his sword and rushed at the massive dragon.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

For an instant, the heavens and earth shook. Dust and sand flew as the world was submerged in chaos.

Only the knight’s shouts cut through the air, transmitting into each and every crevice.

Luke: Even though – even though there’s no way you can hear this right now…

Luke: But, I’m sorry… I’m sorry!

Luke: I’m sorry for leaving you all alone for these eight years. I’m sorry for letting you face the dragon yourself after the eight years.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Do you know how scared I was when I returned to the village, yet didn’t see you at all…

Luke: I was scared that I would never see you again. I was scared that I couldn’t save you…

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Let me see you again, alright?

Luke: Even one instant, one second is enough!

Bang--!

After an enormous sound of collision, the young man was knocked through the air onto the ground, sliding to a faraway cliff, to the very edge.

But this time, it seemed like he didn’t have the strength to stand again.

Luke: …

Luke: Does it… all end here…

Luke: But I… you…

Boom—

A downpour of rain suddenly started.

Part 5

A downpour suddenly started.

Rain struck against the ground audibly, falling on the young knight’s body, flowing towards where the blood and water had accumulated.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: Am I just… going to lose like this?

The knight couldn’t control his gasps.

Luke: But…

Luke: I still… can’t bear to give in.

Luke: I still haven��t found her… I still haven’t seen her… I …

His voice was full of an unrestrained frustration and helplessness.

He tried, or even forced, himself to keep his heavy eyelids open.

Luke: …

Silence suddenly descended.

It seemed like the rain had weakened, and a small sound was resounding through the air.

Luke: !!!

The knight suddenly opened his eyes wide.

Luke: Is that you?! Is that you, MC?!

He struggled, reaching out into the emptiness.

The black mist suddenly surged over from all directions, winding around the knight’s hand, as if in a gentle “embrace”.

The knight suddenly smiled.

Luke: Are you trying to comfort me?

Luke: Mhmm, I’m not scared. Whether they’re happy things or painful things…

Luke: I don’t care about any of that anymore.

He slowly stood his sword upright, staggeringly standing up.

Evil Dragon: Roar—

Luke: I will… keep going until the final moment…

Luke: MC, you are my strength, and I will fight for you until the end of my life.

Evil Dragon: …

The dragon’s movements suddenly stopped.

It looked at the human in front of it without moving in the slightest, and it seemed as if a light had flashed in its terrifying eyes.

Luke: …

Luke: Now!

The knight brandished his sword for the last time, stabbing it deeply into the heart of the dragon.

This time, the dragon did not struggle nor attack back. It remained in its spread-winged posture as it toppled with a boom.

The turbid blood flowed out from the wound, and soon, its breathing stopped completely.

Luke: H-has it ended?

The knight slowly walked up to the dragon’s corpse. After repeated confirmations, he released a sigh, as if he had been freed from a heavy burden.

Luke: Next… I just need to find the dragon’s treasure chest to find you. Wait for me.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Old Castle Interior

The knight pushed open the door to the castle.

Just as the fortune-teller said, there was a treasure chest placed in the centre of the large room.

Luke: …

He knelt with one knee to the ground, brushing off the dust on the chest.

The moment he opened the chest saw what was inside, he displayed a shocked expression.

Luke: This is…?

A mirror inlaid with ruby sat quietly on the top of the chest.

The knight reached out with both hands, carefully holding the item in front of him.

Luke: Isn’t this the one you usually use…

Luke: Ah!

Suddenly, the gem on the mirror flashed with a dazzling light.

As if induced, the ruby on the hilt of the longsword beside the knight started to shine too.

They shone together, blindingly bright.

Luke: …

Amidst the light, multiple images gradually appeared in the mirror, like a light carousel—

Luke: !!!

In that familiar village, the young woman suddenly lifted her head as she trimmed the plants, her scissors falling onto the ground.

Her face was full of shock and disbelief. Tears slid down her face, finally vanishing.

Luke: !!!

She then left the village on a journey. She walked to all the ends of the world, as if in search of something.

She traversed deserts and snowy mountains, wearing out pairs and pairs of shoes, and her originally fair skin gradually became rough.

But on her face, all there was, was day after day of ever-increasing defeat and pain.

Luke: No… I’m here, I’m still alive! I’m right here!

Finally, she arrived at this castle.

Seeming like she’d lost all hope, she collapsed on the found. Tears and blood fell, droplet after droplet, on the ruby of the mirror’s upper part.

Then, a light suddenly flashed, and the girl in the mirror vanished.

The black mist filled the mirror, and a vicious dragon flew out of the castle.

Luke: !!!

The knight’s entire body trembled.

He dropped the mirror and sprinted out the door, as if he had gone mad.

Luke: No… not possible… no way… it can’t be…

Luke: How could you have been the dragon?! No way, I couldn’t have killed you…

At some point, the storm had started to rage again.

The figure of the dragon had already vanished. What replaced it was a figure that the knight was as familiar with as could be.

Luke: No way… why…

Luke: Why!!!

He held the girl’s corpse in his arms, then howled in despair like a wild animal.

The girl’s body was as covered in wounds as the knight’s was.

The rain struck their bodies, rushing frigidly over each of their wounds, as if mocking them.

Luke: No, no way…

Luke: This isn’t real… this isn’t real…

Luke: MC--!

The knight held the girl tightly. His throat was already raw, and all the light had left his eyes.

Luke: Is that why you stopped right then? Did you recognize me?

Luke: Why didn’t you escape? Why did you wait for me to kill you?

Luke: Please open your eyes, alright, answer me!!

Luke: Why?! Why?!

Luke: Ah--!!!

The rain descended in torrents, finally trickling down to the ruby, which had lost all its shine.

Part 6

The storm raged, and the knight’s heartrending cries never once stopped.

The air distorted for an instant. Right after, the fortune-teller stepped out from nothing, walking up to the sobbing Luke.

Fortune-Teller: Pitiful Sir Knight, you still ended up at this point.

Luke: !!!

Luke: It’s you… it’s you!

Fortune-Teller: It is indeed me, Sir Knight, the one who pointed you down this path.

Luke: Pointed me down this path… right, you know everything!

Luke: Let me ask you, did you already know that she was the dragon?!

Fortune-Teller: Yes, I know everything.

The fortune-teller looked at the young man, her voice gentle and tantalizing.

Luke: Then why did you have me find it - have me kill her?!

Fortune-Teller: I had you kill her? That’s quite an unfair accusation.

Fortune-Teller: I am a mere fortune-teller. All I can see is an established truth.

Fortune-Teller: This is her and your fate – you two are destined for an ending of death.

Luke: !!!

Luke: No way! What fate, what ending – I don’t believe any of it! There must be a way to save her!

Luke: I’ll keep looking. I’ll keep looking. I will definitely find it. I will definitely find it!

The young man clutched at the corpse in his arms and forced himself to stand.

The ground was slippery. He fell one time after another, yet he stood again, one time after another.

Fortune-Teller: …

The fortune-teller stroked the crystal ball, looking at the girl who was gradually getting colder in the rain.

Fortune-Teller: There is a way that might be able to save her, but…

Luke: What is it!

The young man shouted hysterically, but his voice was already so hoarse that he was nearly incoherent.

The fortune-teller paused, then looked at him again, her lips curving slightly.

Fortune-Teller: Simple. Make a deal with the devil, using your life.

Luke: …Deal?

Fortune-Teller: Indeed. As long as you offer your heart, she will be able to live again.

Fortune-Teller: But she will lose all memories of you…

Fortune-Teller: Perhaps she will love someone else and live a happy life, or perhaps…

Luke: What do I do?

The knight cut her words short.

Luke: Can you bear witness to the contract?

Fortune-Teller: … Of course.

Luke: Tell me what I need to do. We start immediately.

Fortune-Teller: … Alright.

The knight’s resoluteness far exceeded the fortune-teller’s expectations. After a simple explanation of the ritual, he finished his preparations.

Fortune-Teller: Will you not say any last words to her?

The fortune-teller placed the crystal ball in front of her, looking towards the silent knight.

Luke: …

The knight lowered his head, looking at the girl in his arms.

Luke: I never would have thought that our last meeting would be like this…

Luke: But at least you can continue to live…

The corners of the knight’s mouth lifted with difficulty. He reached out, pushing aside a lock of hair aside on the girl’s face.

Like a deep, yet wordless, farewell.

Luke: There are some things that I didn’t have the time to say before, but it shouldn’t be too late to say them now…

Luke: I…

The knight closed his eyes.

He slowly lowered his head, solemnly and gently kissing the hair of the girl in his arms.

Luke: Goodbye, MC. I pray that your life from today onwards will be happy and joyful.

He looked at her face, looking as if she were in a deep slumber, and said this to her for the very first and very last time—

Luke: I love you.

Right after he spoke, he stabbed his sword into his chest.

Bright red blood covered the marks that had dried on the sword. Thunder boomed as rain fell in torrents.

His heartbeat’s sound gradually stopped.

Fortune-Teller: …

Fortune-Teller: Hahahaha, hahahahaha—

The fortune-teller suddenly burst into laughter.

A black mist gradually wrapped around her. Her body and clothes changed form, finally turning into the form of a witch.

Witch: Hahahaha, what fate, what ending, what deal with the devil? Utterly foolish, truly, ridiculously foolish!

Witch: Although… thank you both. I found this drama quite the satisfying watch!

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

MC: …

My consciousness gradually awakened.

MC: Luke! Don’t do anything stupid!

MC: She’s obviously doing this deliberately! Don’t get tricked by her!

I tried my best to call out his name, yet I anxiously noticed that I could not even make the slightest of sounds.

MC: Luke!

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Luke’s Home, Third Floor

*Tira’s note: The date itself said it was the second floor, but his living quarters (the background shown) are on the third floor, not the second.

MC: Luke!

I sprung awake from my dream.

And because of this tiny movement, Luke instinctively popped off the sofa, standing upright on the floor.

I lifted my head and looked hazily at Luke, and my consciousness gradually returned to reality.

MC: …

Luke: …

We looked wordlessly at each other for a few seconds, then couldn’t help laughing together.

Then, Luke gently sat back down beside me.

Luke: What happened? Did you have a nightmare?

MC: Mhmm…

As I gave an affirmative, I moved my body a little, realizing that my arms and legs had become a little numb. My chest also felt somewhat stuffy.

MC: (Huh, was I sleeping in a weird pose? I don’t think so…)

Just as I was thinking, Luke started to rotate his shoulders too.

Luke: Why are my arms this sore all of a sudden… I’m sure that I slept pretty well…

MC: …

Luke: Huh? What’s the matter?

MC: I figured it out…

Luke: What?

The only reason why our arms were so sore… probably was because Luke was holding me the whole time while we had an afternoon nap.

MC: (So that nightmare… probably also happened because of this…)

I felt both a little frustrated and amused, and seeing Luke’s dubious expression, I couldn’t help laughing aloud.

Luke: What’s the matter?

MC: Nothing, I just hadn’t woken up completely from my dream yet.

Luke: Alright, you’re fine now. I’m here with you.

Luke: If you’re still scared, then should I sing a song for our great lawyer?

MC: Sure!

I knew Luke was just teasing me, but I felt like either way, it would be pretty nice to listen to him sing for me again.

Luke: Then sit comfy first.

MC: Mhmm.

I shifted over a bit, and Luke sat down beside me, covering us up again with the blanket.

Then, he gently wrapped his arms around me.

Luke: Then, what does the great lawyer want to listen to? Twinkle Twinkle again?

MC: Yep!

I looked up at him, and then Luke started to tap my shoulder like a metronome as he began singing.

Luke: Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

Luke: How I wonder what you are…

MC: …

As Luke sang, my emotions gradually calmed down.

Amidst this relaxation, I couldn’t help thinking of the scene in that dream again.

MC: (A ten-day eclipse… man, the weird stuff I come up with.)

MC: (Did the earth stop spinning or did the sun just check out of work? So ridiculous…)

MC: (Plus, how could Luke be tricked by someone like that…)

MC: (Although…)

Though that was what I was thinking, I still knew…

Just like the knight in my dream, the love and protection Luke gave to me was always that silent, yet so etched into his very being.

But unlike the dream, we were now walking towards a happy future together.

I would hold his hand tightly, and I would never let go.

MC: …

The afternoon sunlight pervaded the room, and a slight breeze blew past. Everything was as great as always.

On the storage cabinet on the side, the mirror and sword model were stacked together. Under the sunlight, the rubies flashed faintly.

They looked somewhat familiar.

Phonecall

Hi! Good morning, are you up yet?

Ah… I bought a medieval-themed game that looks really interesting, so I wanted to ask if you wanted to play it together.

This game also has dual-player co-op mode. We can hit new game records together, just like in the past.

The game plot? Seems like a knight went on a quest to slay a dragon to find his missing lover.

I feel like this story’s pretty remarkable, and the animations done for the fights with the dragon in the middle were done really realistically…

Huh, what’s the matter? Why do you have such a pained expression on?

You don’t want to play this game… why? Does the plot make you feel uncomfortable?

Huh?! You had a nightmare with the same plot? And the main characters were you and me?! And we didn’t even get a good ending?!

Pfft… silly, it’s just a dream, don’t take it to be real.

Plus, doesn’t everyone always say that dreams and reality are the opposite?

You saw a bad ending, which means that we’ll have a good ending. So don’t be afraid, it’s all fine.

Hm… if you still don’t feel at ease, then how about we work together to beat this game?

I’ll prove to you that we’ll definitely reach the Happy Ending!

#Tears of Themis #tears of themis translations #xia yan #luke pearce #未定事件簿 #tot spoilers #tot luke #suffering whiplash and sugar #the xia yan fan experience

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justimajin · 4 years

Text

Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt.3

➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut

↳ (3k), Arranged Marriage AU

➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

➟ Warnings: 18+ rating, depictions of graphic violence

gif credit.

➟ Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2

➟ Next Update: Tuesday, January 5

Your feet pace back and forth.

It must have been two, three‒maybe four days? You can’t recall anymore. All that remains in your memory is hours of roaming the long hallways of the house, nearly close to memorizing the amount of lights from the ceiling, or the multiple portraits set aside in one particular hall, lining together every head that came after Namjung.

You know every room colour, every room door, every speck of dust that lingers behind, but you’re nowhere close to transparently knowing the shareholder’s inside out.

Not having their favour means no communication. No communication means no reports are sent back, the static box still stored and hidden away.

Your bottom lip has become battered from your constant chewing, losing track of how many circles you’ve paced at this point.

And yet, it isn’t very difficult for you to decipher the exact reason for your distress.

The shareholders don’t want you around. The moment you stayed during their meeting was off putting enough for them and Namjoon's sudden interest for you to be vocal about your father’s intentions had piercing glares thrown in your direction.

But you’ve been assigned a task and you have to accomplish it, regardless of their desires.

Sucking in a deep breath, the sound of the doors to your bedroom wrenching open completely fails your attempt to calm down.

Swiveling around, Namjoon stands in front of you, eyes wide with delight.

“Oh, you’re here!” He quickly enters, striding over to you in an instant. “Is everything alright?”

Realizing that you’re simply gawking at his abrupt presence, you hastily shake your head.

“I-I was just surprised to see you.”

He smiles warmly and for some reason, you immediately flush at the gesture. You wonder if there will ever be a day where you can get used to the constant tenderness his eyes hold.

He raises his hand and you simply stare, until he leans closer to signal you.

“Come with me.”

Blinking, you cautiously take his hand, and he tugs you away, far from the confines of your room and into a place that makes it easier to breathe.

***

A gust of a wind immediately hits you, the brisk breeze feeling cold yet exhilarating at the same time. It’s strength blows and ruffles your clothes, the flowers at the bottom of your feet delicately brushing up against your skin.

You spin around with knitted brows, facing Namjoon who stands a distance away from you. He’s still clad in the suit he was wearing from work, but his eyes are closed, as if he was trying to absorb and completely immerse himself with the wind.

A question sits on the tip of your tongue.

“Why did you bring me here?” You nearly have to yell, the sound of the wind and the distance not aiding with your voice projection. Namjoon dreamily opens his eyes, walking over to you.

“It’s my mother's garden.” He points to the flowers, a cascade beginning with white, down to lilac purple and petal pink, “They have a calming effect, don’t you think?”

A strained smile remains on your lips, “I guess…”

Namjoon takes a step closer to you, “I’m sorry.”

You turn to him, eyebrows raised, “For the way the shareholders acted with you during our meeting, for putting you on the spot like that, and then leaving you alone for so many days even though we just got married‒”

He abruptly pauses, a pondering finger left on his lips.

“Wait, I don’t think this is enough of an apology, just give me a moment.”

Spinning around as if to leave, your arm involuntarily reaches out and latches onto his suit’s jacket.

He glances at you with surprise and you let go right away, awkwardly stifling back a cough.

“I-Its‒...it’s okay.”

Namjoon is frozen, teeter tottering between remaining by your side and leaving at once. After a moment however, he makes up his mind and leaves, before hurrying back with what would be adjacent to a small tree in his hands.

There’s a frown on your lips when he presents it to you.

“It’s a bonsai tree.” He quickly clarifies, “I got it a while ago and have been maintaining it since.”

You hum, leaning closer to observe it. It’s best description would be a miniature tree, although now you notice the string of ethereal pink that wraps around the branches.

“It’s beautiful.”

A warm, knowing smile crosses Namjoon’s lips. He gestures for you to sit down, still holding onto the small tree.

“So you mentioned you were raised in the outskirts of the country? And then went to the imperial academy?”

You nod right away, “What was it like?”

“Um…” You attempt to wrack through your mind for an answer, “My family didn’t have much but tried their best to raise me. I ended up going to the academy because they assumed I would be the next L/N head.”

“Did you want to be the next head?”

“Not really…” You fiddle around with the hem of your shirt, “I just went because my parents wanted me to.”

“So you didn’t want to be involved with the business and you didn’t want to go to the academy?” Namjoon repeats, like he was trying to memorize the facts, “What did you want to do then?”

You blink, staring at him wide eyed, “I don’t know….” There’s a cloud brewing above your head, fog spreading, “I guess...I never figured out what that was.”

“Come on, there must be something.” He raises the tree in his hands, “No bonsai trees to look after?”

A wide grin spreads across his features, yet your expression remains stoic and confused. His smile begins to deflate, and he lowers his arms, but an unexpected smile cracks across your lips, morphing into a lop-sided one.

“There was one bonsai tree, but it wasn’t a plant, or a mini tree for that matter.”

Namjoon eyes you in intrigue, as if you were telling a story that he was enraptured in. A genuine smile surfaces on your lips, fond memories emerging from the depths of your mind.

“I used to love reading....with my father, every Saturday morning.” There’s a spark within your eyes, recalling the day you first peered into his library much to his own joy, “It was something he initially picked up on as a hobby and then later introduced to me. I still remember days where I used to be buried beneath books and my mother would scold my father for the habit.”

A snicker leaves your lips, “I got into so much trouble once, I didn’t attend my classes at the academy to keep reading and I’d never seen my mother so furious.”

There’s a ray of euphoria splashing over your features, eyes brimming with excitement and bliss. You can’t believe you can still remember these memories, memories that are years old and only consist of absolutely innocent times.

Times in which you were allowed to indulge your natural curiosity instead of exploiting it.

At that, your smile falls and you turn to Namjoon to apologize for your abrupt rambling, but your breath hitches in your throat. He’s extremely close to you, only a mere inches away, and although there’s a small tree sitting in his arms, the look in his eyes is enough to draw your attention.

You awkwardly cough, looking away with a flush spreading over your skin.

“W-Why are you asking me all these questions?”

Namjoon blinks, as if broken from a trance.

He meekly smiles, “We’re married now, but there’s still so much I don’t know about you…”

You swivel around, eyes completely wide. The loose dots clumsily connect, but it’s enough for you to understand his intention behind bringing you out here.

He’s shared a piece of himself with you, in hopes that you’ll share a piece of yourself with him.

Namjoon gets up holding the tree, offering you his hand. You stare at it for a mere moment, a thousand thoughts swimming through your mind.

Cautiously taking his hand, you have to remind yourself that this is all a simple mission ‒ nothing more, nothing less.

***

Namjoon takes you across the garden, pointing out the various flowers that he’s aware of, while you trail behind him and listen in. At one point his bonsai tree nearly falls from his hands when he trips over a sharp ledge, and you’re quick to offer your help in holding it.

This results in your carrying of the small plant, and Namjoon’s deciding to let you know what he named it.

“Cherry?” You repeat, knitting your brows together.

Namjoon hums, “Like cherry blossom.” Pointing towards the string of pink you noticed before, you realize that the faint dust was indeed the emergence of new blossoms along the branch. “I have other ones too, and they all have names.”

You perk your eyes up at that, continuing to slowly trail behind him. There’s something that uncomfortably itches at the back of your throat, the apprehensive feeling in your stomach increasing.

The longer you’re here, following along with Namjoon and listening to his thoughtful words, the longer the mayhem increases. Red flares are exploding in your mind, and heaving ringing pounds through your skull, dragging you back before it’s too late.

“Y/N?”

You suddenly jolt from the proximity, realizing you’ve stopped in your tracks and that Namjoon is gazing at you with troubled eyes. You’re about to shake it off, mutter that you were just lost in thought, when a loud blare rings through the air.

“Sorry.” Namjoon winces, hurriedly taking out his phone and swiping away the piercing sound. “Hello?”

You peer down at the tree in your hands, curiously holding a branch between your fingers. “The deal’s been finalized? Already, Yoongi?”

At the sound of the shareholder’s name, your head snaps up. Namjoon goes silent for a moment, before his voice dips into a lower tone.

“I-I understand...I’ll be there soon.” The line is cut off, and he looks up at you, an apologetic smile forming on his lips.

“I have to leave, it’s for an urgent matter.” He takes the plant from your hands, “I’m sorry.”

You instinctively shift as he moves, grabbing onto his suit jacket like before. “I‒…”

He pauses, eyes rounding. The naive look he holds makes you grimace, the lie easily slipping from your lips. “I-I really don’t want to be alone here….”

Confusion dawns on him and you gaze down at the ground, attempting your best to mimic a somber expression.

Namjoon tilts his head to the side and places a finger on his lips, as if he were deeply pondering.

“I-I understand…” Although his words suggest it, he struggles with the implication. Relief floods through you, hoping that your professing is enough to sway him.

However, the last thing you expect emerges from Namjoon.

His tone drops a register and his piercing eyes flicker at you, holding onto an alluring yet ominous ambience to them. It sends shivers down your spine and you instinctively want to back away from him, caught off guard.

“It won’t be pretty.” He sharply enunciates. Swallowing hard, you can only nod in response.

Without another look, he gestures for you to follow him.

***

It would be a lie to say that you’re not knowledgeable about the Kim’s.

However, to say that you’re too knowledgeable about them, would be most accurate and a fact that you’ve always been careful to conceal.

The Kim’s manufacture weapons. They have far more connections that an octopus would have limbs, and they spread out everywhere, making deals left and right.

However, these are simple facts. Easy to memorize and remember.

And hurdles away from reality.

The building is far from Namjoon’s office, and exhibits a strange bluish grey hue, almost as if it were abandoned for decades. Yet when Namjoon hurriedly paces ahead and the steel door creaks open, your jaw drops.

It’s massive ‒ assembly lines running parallel and forklifts moving along to put up the heavy bundles of steel. It becomes clear to you in that one exact moment, of how much wealth the Kim family truly reigns over your heads.

Your dilated pupils glance in Namjoon’s direction again and he’s occupied with opening a separate door, far from the catastrophic noise raising in the room. Following him inside into an expansive hall, you’re again confronted with the four individuals that seem to despise your very existence.

Hoseok is the first one to scorn, stepping forward immediately.

“You brought her with you?” He spits, eyes throwing daggers at your form from across the room. Namjoon intervenes in an instant, raising his hand.

“She’s staying.”

Hoseok appears to want to protest more, but instead remains silent with only a twitch of his nose and another glare in your direction. You’re taken aback from how he’s rendered mute, but Taehyung crosses his arms and focuses on you.

“You better keep your mouth shut.” Brushing past you, he turns to Namjoon, his demeanor shifting. “We’ve just received the samples today.”

Yoongi takes out a large briefcase and places it on the table before sliding it in Namoon. As he works his way through the codes on it, Jungkook begins handing Yoongi more of them, and he slides them along.

The moment the first one is open, your heart rate spikes up.

A colossal gun is encased within the soft black styrofoam, nearly double the size of your arm. It’s distressing structure includes a handful of large bullets, one of which Namjoon picks up and inspects.

Tapping the side of the copper metal, his gaze narrows in intriguement, as if the bullet in his hand were a mere lightbulb. “What is it made of?”

“Lead and antimony.” Yoongi clarifies, “It has long distance range.”

Namjoon hums and your fists tighten, nails digging into the flesh of your palms. You had never imagined the Kim’s would be exploring these kinds of weapons, a weapon so fatal when their business has only ever focused on producing simple handguns.

Apart from the severity of the new knowledge you’ve just obtained though, for some reason the glint in Namjoon’s eyes as he views them seems to frighten you more.

His next question drains colour away from your skin.

“Do they work?”

Yoongi smirks like it’s a question that shouldn’t even be asked. Taehyung reaches over, swiftly grabbing onto the abundant gun and lining it with his shoulder.

“Would you like to see?” He ponders, and Namjoon nods, backing away from him. Taehyung cranks back the hammer and closes one eye, directing his aim for the wall.

You patiently wait for him to release it, expecting to hear a sudden spike in the breeze accompanied by a loud boom. But that’s when Taehyung shifts his feet, changing his angle with a small smirk dancing on his lips.

Aiming straight for you.

Your heart pounds in your ribcage and before you say anything in opposition, he releases the bullet.

“….if you ever are found out, Y/N…..

....at the split second in discovering your true nature….

....the Kim’s will not hesitate….

...they will never hesitate at the opportunity to dispose of you….”

The sound of your palpitating heartbeat blares through your eardrums, breath completely halting. Save for the frozen state your body has entered, the sight of having all eyes glued to your form barely draws your attention.

The bullet has whizzed right by you, landing on the wall you are standing in front of.

Taehyung snickers.

“It’s hard not to show off these precious babies when you have a L/N in the room.” He remarks and from afar, Hoseok shares his knowing look.

“That’s enough.” Namjoon stomps over in Taehyung’s direction, grabbing the gun from his hands with a scowl.

“What?” Taehyung innocently questions, cocking his head to the side. “It’s not everyday that you get to see a L/N in here.”

He gyrates, facing you, “I was hoping a demonstration would have helped you understand how the Kim’s operate.”

“Taehyung.” Namjoon warns again, but he saunters over to you, not fazed in the slightest.

“How was your father planning to save the company again? By letting it drown first or by setting all his assets on fire?”

His sharp eyes twinkle with amusement, brows narrowed as if he were observing you. There’s a handful of words prepared to spew from you, ranging from how he was completely wrong and downright conceited, but you bite your tongue back, recalling why you’ve persuaded Namjoon to bring you along in the first place.

You clear your throat instead.

“Well you know what they say,” A small smirk curls on your lips as you meet his gaze, “The L/N’s never did understand true power.”

There’s no naivety leftover in your expression, no hint of hesitation remaining anymore. The card you’ve pulled out is one you’ve been taught rather than naturally embodied, and it’s one you’ve been persistent to never use.

But you’re running of time and the only one to carry out your mission, is to wholeheartedly agree.

Taehyung appears taken aback, prepared for a giant fire to be thrown his way that ends up only drowsed in complete water. Your response has rendered him speechless, but it’s not long before a smile begins to tug on his lips, the dark look in his eyes commending you for the statement.

When he steps back, you notice the look of intriguement surfacing on every individual present ‒ save for the man you’ve been married to.

Although you’re content that you’ve captured their attention, it’s hard to ignore the stunned eyes Namjoon sends your way.

217 notes · View notes

gnocchighoul · 4 years

Text

wax feathers // melting sun

summary:

He can’t be serious. You squint. Diavolo offers you a playful grin—innocent and boyish. Holy shit, he’s serious.

(Diavolo catches your eye and you come to realize that angels aren’t the only ones at risk of falling. It’s the beginning of the end.)

warnings: mc is wearing a dress, but pronouns aren’t specified.

The sight of the Demon Lord’s Palace is one that never grows old. It’s a vision straight out of a dark fairytale—black stone walls that crack open the waxy full moon, branching off into a vertical maze of arching bridges and twisting towers. Golden light spills out of the glass domed ballrooms, swallowed up by the black maw of sky.

It’s ancient. Humming with an energy older than time itself—something powerful. Forbidden and curious.

In your more rational moments, you think you should be afraid. That you shouldn't try—shouldn't want—to get too close. To the palace. To the golden boy within.

It’s a bit too late for that.

You glance briefly at the party goers, hoping to catch a glimpse of Lord Diavolo. He’s nowhere in sight—all around you are demons of all shapes and sizes, horns and scales and sharp teeth gleaming in the golden lights.

The fruity fragrance of alcohol pierces through the savoury scent of food, pulling your attention to a long table, stationed near the enormous champagne tower. An enthusiastic Beel has settled himself in and is already tearing into an impressive spread of food.

In the edge of your vision you see Asmo, prowling nearby and nursing a flute of Cristal Acid Champagne. Sinking his teeth into his first target of the night: a flustered waiter who is very quickly losing interest in their job, clearly more taken with the prospect of Asmo—well, ah, taking them. Across the way, a brunette woman in magenta chiffon is eyeing the two of them in a very brazen manner, and you can’t help but make a face when Asmo beckons her over with a grin that’s all pearly-white teeth and unspoken promises.

The Avatar of Lust isn’t the only one attracting attention. This isn’t your first rodeo at the Demon Lord’s palace, but with the way demons are openly ogling you, it certainly feels that way. Unless you want to get swept up into a dance with a stranger, you need to find one of the brothers in the next five seconds—

“You’re here!” booms an awfully familiar voice, and you pivot, heart jumping in your chest, yards of sky blue satin twisting with you. Diavolo stands before you, arms spread wide, grin shining bright as the sun. He swoops in for a hug, and in an instant his arms are around you—enveloping you whole, crushing you against his left boob and all but knocking the air from your lungs. He pulls back after a moment, holding you at an arm’s length to admire you. “You look stunning.”

Heat travels down your neck—you nervously smooth down the fabric of your dress. "I think Asmo did well in the outfit department.”

“Better than well,” Diavolo says, and your breath catches in your throat. His voice is a low timbre, rich like honey and twice as sweet and oh what you wouldn’t give to drown in it.

But, you notice it then—music. Light and airy, swelling slowly into something buoyant and thrilling.

Whatever you were going to say to Diavolo dies on your tongue as a few couples stride past, and you peer around him to see what’s going on. Between the gaps of the crowd you catch sight of couples dancing, twirling around the dancefloor in a colorful, well versed harmony.

“Hm?” Diavolo notices your momentary lapse of attention and looks back over his shoulder. “Oh, I see. I’m quite fond of this waltz… Dance with me?” He smiles, and holds his hand out to you, palm up.

Your eyes widen, and you think, Oh, shit.

Dancing. Waltzing. In theory? Simple. But in reality…

“I’m not very good,” you confess.

“No worries. I’ll lead.” he says.

Briefly, you wonder if this is allowed. The idea is a striking one—you, weird little human that you are, dancing with the Prince of Hell.

This has to be a breach of conduct, surely. The Devildom is rife with customs that you haven’t fully grasped, and even more that you’re simply unaware of. One little dance can’t hurt though… probably. You are one of Diavolo’s exchange students, after all—it would be weirder if he didn’t pay you any attention. Right?

After all, Lord Diavolo is the one pushing for good relations between all three realms, so spending time with you in a public setting would probably be good for appearances. Yes.

Ugh. You sound like Lucifer.

Diavolo looks amused by your hesitancy—his molten gold eyes dazzling.

Warmth. Like the sun.

You think of Icarus. Of wax and feathers—of a light heart that knew nothing of fear.

You’re supposed to be having fun.

You slip your hand in Diavolo’s own, much larger one, a smile tugging at your lips. “Alright.”

He beams at you, and your heart flutters within your chest. There’s no time to dwell on it—he’s already tugging you towards the other dancing couples, feet moving in time with the music.

Diavolo stands directly in front of you and gently guides your left hand up his right arm, laying it just below his shoulder. Your fingers thread nervously into the soft black fur of his shawl—you’ve known for some time now that the future king is a beefcake, but holy hell is he dense. His right hand comes to rest firmly in the center of your back as he takes your free hand securely into his own. He pulls you closer. You have to tilt your head up to look at him.

He makes you feel so small.

“Ready?” Diavolo asks.

You nod, pushing your shoulders back and your chin up.

You’re a little stiff and a tad clumsy. Diavolo takes it in good stride, thousands of years of experience making up for your woeful lack of. You’re so focused on where your feet are going and trying to not get tangled up in your skirts that you don’t notice the curious observers around you.

Diavolo murmurs instructions for you, counting in time with the music. You don’t have time to be embarrassed, focused as you are on not stepping on the prince’s feet.

...For a third time.

As if he can read your mind, he cheerily says, “You’re catching on fast! Why, you’ve only stepped on my foot twice!”

There’s a teasing lilt to his voice that raises heat to the tips of your ears.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Lucifer, who most definitely heard that and is now gawking at you like you’ve chopped off your hand and hurled it at him. You know in your heart that you’re going to get an earful later. Phooey.

You squeeze Diavolo’s hand, only a little bit accusingly. “I did try to warn you.”

He makes an agreeable mm sound. “Well, you’ve got me there.”

He pauses then—eyes shining like he’s got the winning hand. “Let’s try something else, yes?”

He stops moving, and you with him—he leans in close, whispers into your ear.

You blink, once. Twice.

“Wait… seriously?”

Diavolo nods. “Mhm."

He can’t be serious.

You squint. He offers you a playful grin—innocent and boyish.

Holy shit, he’s serious.

Well, in that case…

You step onto his shoes, this time on purpose (it’s free real estate, baby), and now you’re moving. Gliding. The song swells into something bright and joyful, and a laugh bubbles past your lips when he spins you in a wide circle. You feel like a child again—a bit ridiculous, excitement thrumming through your veins and a lightheadedness that leaves you intoxicated. Weightless. Free.

You could stay like this for hours, you realize. Part of you wants to, even.

All too soon, the music begins to fade. Diavolo spins you to the edge of the crowd and slows to a stop. A bit regretfully, you take a step back, the sudden lack of his warmth stinging bitter cold and hollow in your chest.

He smiles, then—presses soft lips to the back of your hand and murmurs, “Thank you for the dance—the first of many, I hope.”

You melt, a bit.

Diavolo burns like the sun and you know—you know—that to stand by his side, to feel his warmth on your skin and to bloom in his light—you will pay a certain price. Plucked feathers and waterlogged lungs.

You wonder if Icarus regretted it.

Your eyes stray for a moment, gaze passing over Diavolo’s shoulder—locking with red-onyx ones.

You smile.

“I would like that.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #gnocchiwrites #obey me drabble #swd obey me #obey me! shall we date?#.............................................................................#yes u did read that right i did imply dialuci #dont hold me to this but i feel like there may eventually be a part 2 #i feel like theres more to this story - i just havent cracked it yet fghjjhg #if you've read this far i love u lol

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paulbunyanstatue · 3 years

Text

The warm sun poured across his bare arms as Tim stood before the manor’s duck pond. The birds had taken a recess, and in their leave of absence, Tim wished to capture the gorgeous image before him. Soft lily pads floated in the crystal water, a green that stood in contrast of the light pink reflected in the pond. A tall cherry blossom tree was rooted next to the water, branches hanging over the pads and creating a shadowy home for the fish that lived underneath the surface. The tree was in bloom this month, and Tim waited all week for a partially sunny day to come out and capture the vision. A petal tore from the branch and floated down to the water below, and Tim quickly brought the camera to his eye to snap the shot. His camera shuttered in effort and he stopped after the petal sunk below the surface.

He sat down on the grass and crossed his legs underneath him, hiding the screen from the sun with his hand while he peered at his work. He was so enthralled by the images and his ideas for further ones that he did not hear the footsteps that approached.

“Timbers, I need your help with something. I am working this case with Kor and Roy, and there seems to be contradictory evidence. But I think that-" Jason realized Tim’s gaze hadn’t left the camera screen, and he knew Tim wasn’t listening yet. “What are you doing out here?”

“Taking pictures,” Tim muttered without looking up at him.

“No shit.” Tim could practically hear the eye roll in his brother’s response, but he didn’t care. He had a vision now and he needed to plan out how he could capture the reflection of the cherry blossoms in the pond without having to climb the large tree and spoiling the photograph. “You aren’t snapping many pictures. Forget how to use the camera?” Jason continued after a small pause, followed by a snicker. Tim huffed but finally looked up toward his visitor.

“I’m trying to take a picture from high above.”

“You can't really do that while sitting down." Tim scoffed, and Jason continued. "You know there’s a tree directly beside you, right?”

Tim nodded with a scrunched nose. “Obviously, Jay.”

“And they call you brilliant. So climb the tree.”

“I can’t climb the tree. If I climb onto that branch there, the only one that would be beneficial to the shot, then my shadow would be cast over the grass here at the edge and my reflection will be seen in the water.”

“That sounds like a good thing. You are the photographer after all. So just flash those pearly whites and-"

“It doesn’t work like that. I can’t be in it.”

“What does it matter if you are in the picture?”

“It just does,” Tim answered as he stood up, clearly offended. He knew Jason didn’t fool around with pictures, even with his phone’s camera save a few of him and his outlaw buddies. “Being in this shot isn’t like signing your name to the bottom of a painting. And it needs to be perfect because the blossoms are perfect and the water is clear and the stones at the bottom of the lake are reflecting the sun. The lily pads are almost golden right now too, and the ducks are finally gone. It has to be perfect.”

Jason listened patiently, eyebrows drawing together slowly with something akin to concern. If he were being honest with himself, he would admit he was concerned for his brother.

“Too bad you aren’t taller,” Jason taunted smoothly after a quiet beat. He wore a wide grin that stretched across his cheeks, but Tim just grunted and looked back out at the water. He wondered if he should risk running back to the manor to grab a step-stool, or maybe even a ladder. But during that time, the ducks could return. He bit at the inside of his cheek.

Jason sighed.

“Alright, come on,” he ordered, beckoning Tim toward him with a wave of his hand. Tim’s feet didn't move and he met Jason’s eyes with a gaze deeply confused and mildly suspicious.

“Why?” He asked, eyes narrowed and protectively clutching his camera tighter to his chest.

“I’m going to lift you on my shoulders so you can get your stupid picture. Come on before I decide to push you in the water instead.”

“Oh,” Tim glanced back at the pond. He really did want that picture and it had been a long time since Jason wanted to murder Tim. The worst that could happen was that Jason would drop him back to the ground. Or throw him in the pond. At that last thought, Tim pulled his phone from his pocket and placed it on the ground where a tree root tangled furiously into the ground. Then he approached Jason.

Jason ducked and threaded his head between Tim legs, lifting Tim on his shoulders with surprising ease.

“Is this-uhm-is this okay?”

“Yes, it’s fine. Where do you need me?”

Tim awkwardly pat the top of the curly darkened hair in front of him. “Thank you, Jay.”

Jason grunted in response, and Tim directed him on where to stand. Tim leaned forward, his elbows digging into his own knees, and his stomach pressing against the back of Jason’s head. He looked through the camera’s screen and couldn’t help but to grin. The angle was perfect, and the picture was exactly what he was hoping for. After several shuttering clicks that sounded soothing accompanying the chirping birds and chattering bugs, Tim found himself quietly laughing through his nose. He lowered the camera down in front of Jason’s face and offered him a view of the scene.

“Remember this is before light adjustments and editing, but there’s the picture you helped me get.”

Jason was quiet for several seconds and Tim began to feel silly. His cheeks flushed and he dreaded to realize he just assumed Jason actually gave a shit about his childish hobby. He lifted the camera back up to his own eye and took more pictures in an attempt to erase the silence that steadily fed his anxiety. He captured the pond, the grass, and a yellow bird that landed on a shimmering stone.

Finally, Jason stated plainly, “Your picture looks very nice, Timbers.”

Tim paused, his finger frozen on the button. “Thank you. I can make you a copy of you want.” He wanted to pinch himself as the words left his mouth, because why would he have asked-

“Yes.”

Tim’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

“Really. Just because I come from a Dickensian part of town doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate good art. Alright, shutter bug.” Jason tightened his hands around Tim’s calves resulting in an anxious grunt from the carried. “Time for a dip.”

“Jason!” Tim yelped and forcefully gripped a fist through Jason’s hair. “Please tell me you are just jok-"

“I am. You know, the rose bushes by that gazebo on the south side of the property are in bloom right now. I think those would make a good picture.” Jason reached back behind his head and gripped Tim by his sides, lifting him over his head and returning the kid to his own feet.

Tim grinned widely now. “Let’s go.”

They spent the next hour outside. Jason pointed out things that he thought looked interesting, and Tim snapped pictures of them before showing Jason the outcome. They found a tranquil stream a mile from the pond, where Tim captured the way the water rippled along the mossy-covered rocks. They found a squirrel perched on a branch a few feet away, and Jason whistled softly so the squirrel looked at Tim for the picture he took. A large fluttering butterfly hovered above a dandelion, and Tim laid on the ground for the shot.

When Jason's phone chimed, Tim sat up and turned to him with wide eyes. "You came out here asking for something. What did you need?"

Jason leveled him with a calculative gaze, as though he were reading Tim before answering. "Right now, I need food. Let's head back to the manor." He ticked his head and they walked together in comfortable silence. Tim flipped through the pictures on his camera and Jason scrolled through his phone. When they reached the manor's front door, Jason threw it open and fished a folder from his backpack discarded by the entrance before nodding his head to Tim in the direction of the kitchen. Tim followed wordlessly, taking a seat at the kitchen island and watching with interest as Jason stood across from him and tossed the folder onto the table in front of Tim. Jason finally declared, "I will make us lunch. Would you take a look at that for me?"

Tim chewed on his thumbnail as he studied the information before him, and Jason pulled ingredients from the refrigerator and heated a pan on the stove. Tim did not know how much time had passed but he discovered the reason for the snag in the case, as well as came up with three strategical maneuvers that Jason and his team could pull during their next raid as Jason plated the crêpes. Tim's attention snapped back when Jason slid a plate in front of him. Tim stared at the food with surprised longing, since he was too enthralled in the case to actually smell the cinnamon and orange that swirled around him. Though now that he did, his stomach ached with hunger and his mouth watered. He figured he probably forgot to eat that morning... and the evening before. Chocolate, whipped cream, and orange zest topped the folded treat and Jason handed him a fork.

"Orange filling," Jason informed him, already tearing into his own food. "Eat it while it is warm."

Tim pulled his plate closer and took a bite. As the warm, fluffy pancake touched his tongue, followed by the burst of orange cream, he couldn't help but to gasp alongside his widening eyes. Jason smirked and lowered his head at the sincere reaction with color akin to a blush shading his cheeks.

"These are amazing!" Tim shoveled more into his mouth, and even considered how he would look if he licked the plate in front of Jason when he finished. As he cleared the last bite from his fork, he gaze rose to his brother's plate pathetically. Jason noticed and relented with a sigh. He pushed his own plate nearer to Tim and invited him to finish it off while he made more for them. Tim politely asked if Jason was sure, and when he received a confirmation, he quickly finished the food.

"Strawberry or apple this time?"

"You can make these with apple?" Tim jumped out of his seat and approached Jason at the stove. His brother laughed and considered that answer enough to snatch a ripened red apple from the bin by the refrigerator. "How did you learn to cook like this?"

"Alfred taught me," Jason responded, lighting the stove once more and adding butter to the pan. He washed the apple he held and began to cut away the peel, handing the pieces to Tim to snack on. "As you probably already assumed, I did not grow up receiving cooking lessons from my parents. The only tip I got in the kitchen was how fast I needed to get a beer for my dad before he got pissed and came after me with his belt." Tim became uncomfortable and shuffled at that, wringing his fingers anxiously. "It's okay, Timburrito," Jason said softly when he noticed the sudden wave of uneasiness. "That man is dead, and I know how to cook now. Besides, from what Brucie has told me, you had a shitty sperm-donor yourself."

Tim rolled his eyes and turned away, crossing his arms. "Brucie needs to mind his own business. I grew up in privileged circumstances, and it was fine." Jason leveled him with a raised eyebrow, and Tim rolled his eyes again. "I was lucky. You do not need to compare us to lessen the tragedy of your own traumas."

"Bruce is your guardian now. Even more so, he is your dad. If he minded his own business, Alfred would call child services on his ass." Jason dug his elbow into Tim's side, eliciting a reluctant giggle. "Look, you are obviously a good kid. I mean, you forgave me for what I did."

"You couldn't help that," Tim interjected with a frown.

"My point stands," Jason continued. "You are a good kid, and I know you work hard to see the best in people. But your parents left you alone far too often, and that isn't right. You and I, we did not grow up in the healthiest households."

"Your father was an abusive man, and he hurt you. We did not grow up the same."

"Yours did not have the touch of an angel, kid. According to the Dickhead himself, you used to show up here for patrol with a few extra lickings that didn't happen courtesy of some goon on the street."

Tim wrinkled his nose and opened his mouth to snap back, but he closed it again when he realized he had nothing to say. How could he deny something that Dick had no reason to lie about. Jason was right, his father was not a good parent. Tim often wondered if he was even a good person. He watched the butter in the pan come to life, sizzling and bubbling up. The smell wafted around him, but this time it felt suffocating, and it caused turmoil deep in his stomach. "Our fathers sucked."

"They were monsters. And yet, here we are," Jason nodded slowly, waving his knife around the kitchen as though this room alone supported his point. His eyes landed on Tim and he grinned. "Dick told me you accidentally called Bruce 'dad' the other day." Tim's cheeks turned dark red and his eyes widened. "I bet the old man loved that."

Tim shrugged with one shoulder, and turned away. "Dick is far too loud for his own good. It was an accident, and I think I was a few quarts of blood low when it happened." He paused for a moment, chewing on another slice of apple peel. "But besides, he sort of is my dad now."

Jason smiled at the kid's response. It was already obvious to him that Bruce was Tim's father, the man adored the genius kid. And Bruce was a wildly significant improvement from the last one Tim had. "You should tell him that, I think he would appreciate hearing it."

Tim snaked his hand in between Jason and the cutting board and snatched a slice of apple, dodging Jason's swat and burying the fruit in his mouth with a sneaky grin. "Jason?" His brother hummed. "Can you teach me how to make these?"

For the first time since knowing Jason Todd, Tim watched as he lit up with excitement. Jason had always loved learning new skills. When Alfred agreed to teach him how to cook fancy foods that differed so drastically from the Top Ramen he grew up microwaving for himself and his mother, his excitement was palpable. He even kept a notebook during his years as Robin. He brought the spiral paper to the kitchen counter and recorded the information that was fed to him in that loving environment. Being able to pass this experience to another, especially a member of his growing family, sparked new joy in his chest that traveled up to his cheeks and drew a smile on his face. He nodded, keeping his eyes fixed studiously on the apple. "Yes, I can teach you how to make these. And I can teach you how to cook other foods too. You and Bruce grew up too wealthy, you know? Everyone ought to learn how to cook and do their laundry and shit." Tim rolled his eyes again and couldn't help his scoff as he insisted he knew how to do laundry. "This pan is heated enough, we can add the batter now."

"How do you know it is heated enough?"

"Do you see how the butter has browned slightly?" Tim nodded. "And do you smell the cooked butter?" Tim sniffed slowly, and he nodded again. The smell didn't feel so suffocating anymore, in light of their new conversation. "That is how you know. With crêpes, the pancake part has to be very thin. I already made this batter, because you want it to sit for at least an hour, though if it sits overnight, those are the best-tasting crêpes you will ever have in your life." Tim raised his eyebrows because he could not possibly imagine that anything could taste better than the food Jason had just served him. "But I can show you how to do that later. Pour a little bit of batter in this pan, and tilt the pan so that it is evenly spread out." Jason backed away from the counter and watched Tim slowly approach the bowl. He accidentally poured too much batter into the pan, just like Jason had when he first learned how to make crêpes. But, in mimicry of Alfred's own response to him so many years ago, Jason said, "Just a tad thinner for next time, but otherwise, it looks wonderful."

Tim couldn't help but smile with pride.

:) Softer scene from my fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32502511/chapters/80612944#workskin

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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 4 years

Text

The Red Witch

Jasper Hale x Reader part 3

A/N: Part 3 is here you beautiful people! Sorry it this is long! I will be working on part 4 soon! And if there’s anyone who wants to be a part of the tag list, let me know so I can make a list. Thanks lovelies! 😊💕

Summary: Imagine being an immortal witch from the Middle Ages and being the previous love of Jasper before he was turned. You two were separated under certain circumstances and cross each other’s path once again, years later in the present era.

Warnings: Language. Violence and gore. Brief mentions of past abuse. Horror elements.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 4 , Part 5

It wasn’t long after till you arrived to your home with Harper. It was a gorgeous Victorian style manor that you fell in love with right when you laid your eyes on it. The way it loomed over when you looked up at it, to the dark brooding trees with twisted branches that resembled gnarly hands that seemed to lunge at you, down to the immaculate details that you couldn’t help but admire that covered the house. It reminded you of a life you once lived. When you were a child, your mother would tell you stories of how old houses, these old and beautiful things, in time, would somewhat become a living thing. She’d mention how they had bones and skin, were able to feel and breathe, and how they have seen many things. That phrase always used to spook you as a child. You used to think that your house was always watching you wherever you went. But now, you believe that if you took care of your home, “this living thing”, it would in turn take care of you, and become your safe haven.

You opened the door to your home and inhaled deeply, taking in the interior and the evocative scent that you managed to surround your place with. You loved to lay candles and incense about, filling your home with notes like pumpkin, sandalwood, dragon’s blood, musk, almonds, cinnamon, frankincense, and roses. It always made you feel more at home.

“Maleficent!” You called out as you took your shoes off as Harper did the same.

You saw movement in the far corner, seeing a small blur of black fur before you feel it rub against your legs.

“Hi Maleficent.” You cooed as you picked up your black cat with your gloved hands and held her to your chest, smiling with your eyes closed in content as she nuzzled against your scarf covered neck.

Maleficent let out a little mew as she stared up at you with those adorable big bright green eyes of hers, her purring vibrating through her chest as her abnormally large fangs poked out of her mouth. Times like these were sweet but heartbreaking. You loved Maleficent with all your being but you could never truly pet her. Thus your curse.

Harper geeeted Maleficent as well while she was still cuddled in your arms as you went into the living room, walking up to the large metal birdcage to greet your familiar, a Raven.

“Hi Edgar.”

“Well look what the cat dragged in.” He squawked as he stared at you with those mischievous black beady eyes.

“Oh please behave yourself Edgar.” You rolled your eyes before handing him a treat.

“I don’t need your assistance human.”

“Oh?” You raised your brow. “I don’t remember you sprouting a pair of arms to help yourself, unless, if I’m mistaken, your wings can magically turn into hands.”

“Well if I wasn’t stuck in this form I would be able to do as I wish, but woe is me.”

“I can’t believe you have a stupid bird as a familiar. Wish you got something cooler instead.” Harper rolls her eyes at Edgar as she passes by on her way to drop her things in her room.

“How dare you.” Edgar held his head high. “I am not just any bird. I am a great poet! A writer!”

My goodness, the drama on this bird. You had only met Edgar Allan Poe once, but now it looks as if the fame had got into his head.

“Harper! Make sure to do your homework.” You turn to call after her, only to hear her mimic your English accent.

“Did you just mock me?” You asked with a scoff.

“..........no?”

Maleficent hissed at Edgar, which made him spread his wings and squawk in threat. “Get that thing away from me!”

“Maleficent is harmless.” You rolled your eyes as you set her down. “Besides, it’s not as if she’s going to tear through your cage.”

“I get no respect around here.” Edgar let out a little huff before turning away from you, obviously giving you the silent treatment.

I swear to god this raven is the biggest brat.

“Suit yourself.” You shake your head before making your way to the kitchen to see Melanie preparing a meal.

“Smells delicious.” You tell her as you stand next to her. “Is that vegetarian shepherds pie?”

“It is! I know how much you like those.” Melanie smiles at you, before turning back to her food and gesturing to the the little strawberry tarts.“Et voici, tarte aux fraises. I hope they’re as good as the ones mama makes.”

“They look absolutely wonderful Melanie. And I bet they taste just as great as your mother’s.” You squeeze Melanie’s shoulder before you call out to your sister as you set the table. “Harper! Dinner!”

“Alright! I’m coming!” She shouts back at you, making you smile and shake your head.

“So I’m guessing you’re fine?” Melanie eyes you while finishing up her dish.

“I took care of it. I’m much better now, thanks.”

“And what about him? What about Jasper?”

“Jasper?” You look up at her, feeling that same tightness in your chest from the mere mention of him.

“Mon amie.” Melanie rolls her eyes lightheartedly. “I’m not stupid. I know how much he meant to you. I just want to make sure you’re okay, you know, after seeing him when it’s been so many years.”

“I was just, shocked, if anything. I never expected to come across him again.” You look down at your hands, playing with the loose threads on the sleeves of your sweater. “But, he doesn’t remember me, so I’m fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“If you say so.” Melanie sighed, she knew you weren’t okay, and she knew how much his presence ate at you. But she didn’t want to pressure you into focusing on this subject.

The dinner that Melanie made that night was delicious, the perks of having a best friend that was French and a kitchen witch. You had to remind Harper not to scarf down her food so she wouldn’t choke, only to receive a glare, as always. After dinner you and Harper retired to your rooms while Melanie went back to her little cottage that she preferred to stay in that was right next door to your manor. Maleficent decided to sleep with Harper that night. You were already changed out of your clothes and into your long white nightgown, cuddling into your blanket to do your nightly reading of classic literature before crashing out from exhaustion.

The night was dark and foreboding, and the skies were pitch black like the ink of a pen, and the air was crisp as the wind blew sharply through the trees. The thick clouds blanketed the sky, concealing the stars of their beauty and stripping away any form of light besides the moon. It was a full moon that night. And despite the stormy clouds that desperately tried to overpower the moon, the moon still managed to cast some light, illuminating part of your bedroom in this haunting glow. You were lying in your bed, buried beneath your blanket in a deep sleep with the windows slightly down to let in the cool breeze. You had a few candles lit to add some light to your darkened room, when suddenly, your clock struck 3. The wind came to a stop, and your room became disturbingly still. Not a moment later the candles in your room strangely went out all at once, leaving you in complete darkness. There wasn’t the slightest sound, not even the hooting of an owl, nor the sound of a leaf falling to the ground. Everything was as silent as the grave.

Then, as if on schedule, the temperature in your room dropped drastically, and you shivered, clutching your blanket closer to you. Still in a state of deep sleep, you began to have a nightmare. You remember seeing yourself in a beautiful wedding dress. You were waiting for someone, but no one came. The scene slowly shifted around you, then all you could see was fire, this bright and threatening fire. You looked around but the flames were the only things you saw, it completely obscured your vision. The flames seemed to surround you, enveloping you in this smoldering heat. You felt yourself sweat profusely while desperately choking for air, but to no avail, the smoke burned your lungs, you couldn’t breathe. And then there it was, that horrifying noise. That blood curdling scream of a woman in pain. It was your own. Your agonizing screams pierced your ears and the stench of burning flesh stung your nose. It was your own. You looked down in horror to see the flames licking at your flesh, leaving behind these gruesome wounds. You were being burned. Your screams never ceased to stop, but they were muffled by the chants of others. You tried to cry out for help, but no one came. No one cared. You couldn’t even see the faces of the voices. You could only hear those chants, over and over again. It was only a nightmare. And yet, the pain felt real. It all felt too real.

You woke up abruptly from your nightmare. It felt as if your whole body was set on fire in this excruciating pain. You were drenched in sweat resulting to your hair being matted to your face. You tried gasping for air, you tried to scream. But no sound came out. You tried to move but you stayed frozen to your bed, you could only move your eyes. Your eyes shifted frantically around your room and widened in horror at what they saw. You saw your mother in the corner as she stared at you with these white, dead, lifeless eyes. A rope was tied around her bruised neck which was bent at an unnatural angle. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to cry out for help but you couldn’t, the only sound that came out was a whimper as you watched her walk towards you, wailing your name. Tears pooled in your eyes and fell down the sides of your face as the furniture in your room started to shake. You then saw your father appear before you, those cold and calculating eyes stared back into yours. You had his eyes, those cold heartless eyes, and that sinister gaze that terrified you as a child become your own. You watched as your father’s cloaked figure brought out his hands, displaying a whip in one and a heated branding iron in the other.

“(Y/N!) You insolent child!” He boomed in his raucous tone that made you tremble with fear. Bloody boils began to appear on his skin, gradually turning into decay as pieces of his flesh began to fall off, one by one, revealing the bone underneath. “Look at what you’ve done to me! You demon! You bitch!”

You shut your eyes against the terrifying image, your breathing growing more rapid by the minute. He wasn’t real. He died many years ago. He can’t hurt you. And yet, the pain that you now felt said otherwise. The long slashed scars that covered your back and the brand on the left side of your chest still burned as if they had just been inflicted.

There was a knock on your bedroom door, making you open your eyes back up.

“(Y/N?)” you heard Harper’s muffled voice on the other side. “What’s going on?”

She tried to open the door, but couldn’t. The door was locked. You tried to cry out for her, but you couldn’t. You still remained frozen. Your parents had disappeared, but now another ghostly figure stood at the foot of your bed. It was you. You saw yourself standing at the foot of your bed, wearing that same wedding dress from your dream with your face barely hidden behind the white veil.

You heard Harper call out for you again, struggling with the door handle, but your eyes remained glued to the apparition of yourself.

“We deserved this. We are monsters.” The face of this manifestation of yourself was blank and conveying no emotion, yet it was filled with such heartbreak and pain. You saw yourself erupt into flames, the veil burning away to reveal your scarred face as it reached a skeletal hand out towards you. “He could never love a thing like you. No one can.”

Tag List: @shakespeareanbooty @justine-en @5sosfanforever2001 @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem @holyhumorliteraturelight @toomanybandstocare @twilight-kpop @cricketlicket @ashdab2611 @pancake-pages @elisemurphy06 @ineffabledears @seraphpheonix @bella-stenbakken

#jasper hale #jasper hale imagine #jasper hale x y/n #jasper hale x you #jasper whitlock #jasper whitlock imagine #twilight imagine #twilight imagines #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper hale x reader

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fictionwordcounts · 3 years

Text

Home [Anakin x Reader]

Word Count: 2000+

Summary: You're on the desolate planet of Dagobah, and things are a far less than exciting. However, someone crashing close to your home changes everything.

Requested on Wattpad.com at StarkWars084

You were whittling away at a stubborn piece of wood when you saw a ship of some sort fall from the sky not far away. You jumped up from the small chair you had made and examined the smoke trail in awe. Nothing exciting ever happened on this disgusting swamp planet and you absolutely had to go to the crash sight.

Smiling to yourself, you climbed down your tree house and headed off in the direction of the crashed, mysterious object. Wading through the thick mud was easy and you started walking a ways off, but stopped suddenly. You reached toward your back only to grasp empty air-- you'd left your weapon at home. You were furious with yourself for forgetting such an important tool. The planet you were on was nowhere shy of dangerous creatures. Looking over at a large stick on the ground, you decided it would have to do. You grasped it tightly and continued on until you found a broken ship submerged in quick sand. If anyone was alive in there, they certainly weren't now. It was a shame too. You were hoping to find someone (You didn't care who) to make life more interesting. You would have settled for anything in fact.

The sand prevented you from investigating closer, but it was just as amazing from where you were. Sure you had seen ships before, but that was a long time ago, before you came here. The ship was swallowed up quickly by the hungry sand and you strained to see the last bit of the tail disappear. You were about to leave when you noticed footprints leading off from where the plain had been. A sound from behind you made you jump, and you spun around with your makeshift weapon in hand. A man with shoulder-length dark hair and clothes caked in sand stood there. His eyes were kind and calm despite the large stick only inches from his face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," he stated. Even if it wasn't his intention, he had scared you a great deal, and you found yourself unable to lower the stick. He slowly raised his hands and started pushing the weapon down, and you let him since you couldn't do it yourself.

"Who are you?" You asked him once you had found your voice.

"It's alright, I'm Anakin Skywalker. I'm a Jedi, and I can help you off this planet," he answered. "I could take you as far as Coruscant, if you like."

You bit your tongue and changed your mind. I'm not okay with anything! you decided, I wanted anything but a Jedi. The Jedi were the people you had tried to escape in coming here. You had thought you wanted to be one at one time, but they had rejected you when you had failed their ridiculous trials. Now there was one here, though you had chosen to live on one of the most remote planets you could find. You were angry with him though you knew it was not him alone that had denied you the position.

"Well, I'm very glad you've found a way to get home," you said, trying to maintain a steady voice. "You can do so alone. I wish you luck." With that, you spun around and headed back to the home you had made. Sloshing footsteps and swinging branches told you that he was stumbling right behind.

"Hold on!" He called after you. You were nearly running, and you would've kept going, but this was the only social interaction you would get for who knew how long. You rolled your eyes and slowed so he could catch up. "It's dangerous out here alone," he warned.

You slowly turned around and rolled your eyes. "Is it?" you scoffed and took in a deep breath while you tried to get your thoughts together. "Listen, I do appreciate the offer, but I have no interest in heading back to anywhere the Jedi Council is."

"What do you mean back?" he questioned. "You mean you've been there before?"

You glared at him. "Do the Jedi now find things easy to forget?" you felt yourself shaking and tried desperately to stand completely still. You're not mad at him, you told yourself. You knew you shouldn't be mad at all, but it grew more difficult the more he spoke.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about," Anakin apologized. "But at least let me take you to a safer, more populated planet." You almost laughed now.

Gesturing to land around, you responded, "Even if I wanted to leave, how would we?" Anakin looked around.

"I'd find a way," He insisted. You knew there was really nothing he could do, but you liked his determination.

Still, you weren't sold on the idea of returning. "Well," you started hesitantly. "If you're going to find a way back, you'll need a place to stay." You gestured for him to follow you. He was surprisingly good at navigating through the mud. He knew exactly where to step and where not to. You guessed it was the Force showing him the way. It had for you, too, before you memorized the land. When you got to the lake that was not far from your tree house, you made Anakin scrub off all the sand off his arms and neck.

When you made it back to your home you showed Anakin the way up the tree. "You built this?" He asked you once he was at the top.

You nodded proudly. "It took me a while, but it finally came together." You ran your hand across the railing you had put up. You were rather proud of your work and had a right to be. It was sturdy and homely which was perfect for where you lived. "You could probably stay just outside my kitchen for now. Tomorrow I'll have to make a proper bed for you."

Anakin nodded to show he understood then looked questioningly at you. "If I'm going to stay here, I need to know your name."

You had completely forgotten to introduce yourself! You scolded yourself inwardly. "Y/N," you told him.

He smiled "Thank you for offering your home to me, Y/N" You knew he was just being polite. He wouldn't have the comfort of a bed like the one you had made, and you couldn't make one now. You didn't have the items you would need, and it was getting too dark to gather any.

"I recommend you don't leave the house until dawn," you suggested. "The creatures here love the dark."

"I wont," he assured you. Even though he was a Jedi, you knew you couldn't leave him to figure that out on his own.

You would help him the best you could. You didn't hate him. In fact, you found it hard to dislike him. But it was impossible to ignore his title: Jedi. Just thinking the name made you shudder. You wished him a good night, and Anakin took his robe off and lay down on one of your pillows. He pulled the robe over himself to stay warm and you went to your moss bed. It was actually a nice, comfortable bed that took you a while to complete. You looked over at Anakin who was still awake, staring up at the sky, and your stomach twisted. He wanted to go home, but you couldn't help him do that. The best you could do was make sure he didn't freeze, starve, or get killed by ravenous animals, so that's what you would do. You would keep him alive until he could get back home.

________________________________________________________________________________

You woke up earlier than usual and dressed quickly. You decided to go hunting in hopes of finding some meat to balance out the root stew you would make. As you slipped the cotton shirt over your head, you realized that you didn't have any extra clothes for Anakin to change into, and his clothes were still covered in mud that had dried over. Surely, it wasn't a comfortable way to live. You walked over to Anakin who was fidgeting and stirring in his sleep. You would have to make him a change of clothes as soon as possible.

You grabbed your spear and knife and climbed down the tree easily. You wanted to do this quickly so you could start working on the other projects Anakin's arrival had made for you. You waited at some rocks near the lake with your knife in hand. Nudj, you knew, were lizard-like creatures that stayed around this area. You had only killed a few before, but they weren't bad. When a brave nudj climbed the rocks you quickly threw your knife and pierced it's skin. It thrashed for a second before falling still. You knew the alarm it let out would warn the others and keep you from getting anymore from there. You retrieved the knife and nudj and headed to a different patch of rocks. You repeated this pattern four more times until you had three of the lizards to take back. You jogged back to the tree and climbed up. Anakin was awake.

"Good morning," you called to him. His face was pale and there were beads of sweat on his forehead. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Yes, I'm fine." You looked him over worriedly. Treating disease was not something you could cram into today. Deciding to leave him be, you started preparing a stew from roots herbs and the nudj you caught earlier. Anakin came up to you and watched for a little bit.

You turned to him while the stew cooked. "Have you figured out how you'll be getting back?" you questioned.

He shook his head. "No, I haven't, but I'll find a way," he answered confidently. Surely he knew he wouldn't be able to. The only thing that flew on the planet were the bogwings, and you didn't want to mess with them.

"I'll have to make you a change of clothes," you told him. "I'll do that after we eat." You turned back to the food and stirred it.

"Thank you," Anakin said. You pointed to a small pot you had sitting by.

"If you're going to stay here though," you announced. "You'll have to help and boil some of that water."

He smiled and took the full pot to a small fire you had going.

After you and Anakin had finished eating, you walked over to a bin where you kept thread and fabric. You hadn't expected to use it really so you were happy you found a use for it. You sent Anakin to wash the dishes, but it didn't keep him busy for long. He came to where you were working.

"Tell me about the time you were with the Jedi council," he requested.

You stiffened. Of course, he would be curious, but you didn't want to talk about it. You just wanted him to have a magical solution to leave and do so. You hesitated, trying to play out the conversation in your head.

"When I was younger," you started. "All I wanted to be was a Jedi. I looked up to them and my parents did too." A lump formed in your throat. "They noticed me, finally, and I trained for a long time until I became a Padawan. I wasn't long after that my parents were killed. I couldn't preform as well as they wanted me to. I could only think about them, hoping they would come back. It devastated me, and at times, I even felt resentment--hatred. You know that's not acceptable for Jedi." You inhaled deeply and wiped a tear from your cheek with your fingertips. "They expelled me, and I left. I was angry with the council." You gritted your teeth. "I was angry with Master Yoda."

Anakin looked puzzled. "Master Yoda is very wise," he defended. "I'm sure he had a good reason."

You wiped your face and looked at him reasonably. "Master Yoda has it all wrong," you argued. "There has never once been a Jedi who has kept to the code completely. Our emotions make us human, and those that embrace that are the ones he wants to get rid of. He can't turn us into his mindless, emotionless robots to fight his battles for him."

Anakin was silent. The whole time you were talking your hands were working on the outfit for him.

"But never mind," you attempted a smile. "I finished your outfit." You turned around while Anakin switched his clothes. When he was finished you turned back to see your work. You laughed out loud. The clothes looked absolutely ridiculous. They were baggy and blended into each other making it look like one piece.

"Well, it's a start," he teased, smiling. "At least now I'm not covered in sand from head to toe."

You made a note to yourself to practice your seamstress skills later.

You had just finished the bed for Anakin when the sun sank behind the trees. He slept on it well the first night, but he grew restless from nightmares that not even the most comfortable of beds could fix. You often had to sit by his bed with a cold cloth to calm him. He told you they were of his mother. He had to watch her die over and over again every night and it made him miserable. You did the best you could, but that wasn't much. There were nights when he would wake up suddenly, and you would have to speak quietly and soothingly to him until he could fall asleep again. At first it bothered you, but it troubled you more now.

Anakin had stayed with you for two weeks before a ship landed right next to the lake where you were gathering water one day. You dropped the bucket and ran to the ship. The door opened and a light-haired, bearded man emerged confidently. His eyes were tired but that didn't change how he acted.

"Hello there!" he called to you. "Allow me to introduce myself: I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi. Could you give me a hand with something?" Stunned you nodded and beckoned him forward. "I'm sorry about landing here without permission. I didn't think this planet was populated. I'll leave soon, but I seem to have lost something and I need help finding it," he explained.

"What did you loose?" you asked him, though you could already guess. Obi-Wan looked at you warily.

"His name is Anakin Skywalker."

You froze. When Anakin arrived, the thought that he might have someone looking for him hadn't even occurred to you. He was back at the tree house preparing food for the both of you. You weren't sure if you should get him or not. As if he heard his name called Anakin came running up from behind you.

Obi-Wan perked up. "Anakin!" He called cheerfully. "I'm glad you're alive, Anakin. You had us all worried." Despite the fact that this man had brought Anakin a way home, he didn't look all that happy.

"You shouldn't have come for me, Master." Anakin said. "You could've saved supplies and time going on without me."

"Anakin don't talk like that," Obi-Wan commanded. "You are my friend, and I will not leave you like that."

Obi-Wan looked at you. "I thank you for any help you have given my young apprentice. You will be paid in whatever currency you find acceptable." He turned back to Anakin. "Let's go, Anakin. Master Yoda will be happy to know you're alright."

Your heart sank. Anakin had found a way to leave after all. This is what you wanted. You reminded yourself. Once he's gone, life will be normal again. Boring and normal. You didn't want him to go now, but what could you do? It was Anakin's decision, and he was already following his master. You stood there waiting for the ship to take off, but it never did. In fact the door opened once again and both of them walked out.

"Is everything okay?" You questioned with a small glimmer of hope that the ship might not start. Anakin was looking much happier now and Obi-Wan more upset.

"It appears," Obi-Wan spoke first. "That Anakin will be staying with you," he explained.

You looked at Anakin who was next to you now.

"Are you serious?" you asked quietly, though your heart was beating rapidly.

He looked up at Obi-Wan. "Thank you for your training, Master," he said respectfully. Obi-Wan nodded blankly.

"I don't know what I'll tell the council," he said almost talking to himself.

Anakin smiled. "I'm sure you'll think of something," he assured. Obi-Wan looked up and smiled.

"Yes, well, I'll still have to pay you, Y/N," he said. "I'll go and get whatever supplies you'll need." He looked at Anakin again and laughed. "And good heavens hopefully some proper clothes." You both laughed merrily. You felt wonderful and couldn't stop smiling.

Obi-Wan left and Anakin hugged you tightly.

"You're really staying," you whispered.

He chuckled. "Yes, I am." He pulled away and looked into your eyes. "You were right, Y/N. I shouldn't try to push any emotions aside anymore." He rested his hand on your cheek. "I love you, Y/N." He grabbed your hand. "Let's go home."

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mandilflorian · 4 years

Text

Laws of Motion

Marcus Moreno x Reader (fem)

Rating: +18 (minors do NOT interact)

warnings: light smut, dry humping/making out, egregious physics jokes, if i’m missing anything i’m sorry!

word count: 1.8k

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! My resolution is to write more and I’m happy to kick off the new year with a smutty little marcus one shot! I haven’t posted fic in a long time and I apologize if my grammar is off. I have a basic understanding of physics lol so if it’s not accurate then I also apologize for that. I hope you all had a happy holidays. Enjoy!

• • •

Marcus Moreno had been on you all day. A lingering touch as you exchange files and cups of coffee to each other at the office. A hand on the small of your back as he passes you by in a hallway with more than enough space for two people to walk. It’s deliberate. You’ve been craving his touch for a few weeks now. Both too busy with work to truly feel each other. The want has been building and you might just combust if you wait another moment to have him.

He stops by your office during your lunch break, sitting on the edge and playing with the Newton’s Cradle on your desk. Stopping the motion of the cradle in it tracks before gently lifting a finger of one side and allowing it to fall, continuing its demonstration. You watch his ministration while sipping on your coffee, lost in the thought of his hands working you in similar ways. He can read you very well, and he takes note of your distracted state.

“Did you know,” he interrupts your thought and you look to find him staring into your eyes with a glare you can’t quite read. “By lifting one side, you are creating potential energy. And when you release it-“ He releases the ball and the cradle begins its demonstration again, all while keeping his eyes locked on you. “It converts to kinetic energy and transfers that energy to each ball until it gains the momentum to propel the last one forward. And the cycle repeats. Creating a seemingly infinite motion.”

You hide your smile behind your hand, trying to hold your giggling from him. He is prone to scientific tangents and you are in constant fascination with the Heroic, but the simplicity of this is just too cute. “Marcus, I am well aware of the mechanisms of a Newton’s Cradle.”

He drops his hand into his lap and fiddles with a loose thread from his jeans as you set your coffee mug down next to him. Before you’re able to move your hand away he quickly takes it into his and intertwines them.

You look back into his eyes to find them dark and serious. What you couldn’t read before, becomes abundantly clear. He wants you. While the direction of the conversation only serves to confuse you, Marcus continues.

“Maybe we should turn our potential energy,” he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “into something kinetic.”

The contact sends a jolt to your hand and up your arm. Your chest tightens until you realize what he just said. It’s a moment of silence before it’s filled with your laughter. Loud and booming through your office as you try and fail to contain yourself. Marcus drops your hand and stands next to you. “Alright, Geez. It was corny, I get it.” He pats your back as you wipe the tears pricking your sight.

“I’m- I- Oh my god, Marcus, I’m so sorry- I can’t- I- Did you just u-use a physics pick-up line on me?” You hold your palm to your chest, taking a deep breath and letting a few giggles escape.

“Yeah, Yeah I get it. I was trying to be romantic.” He shakes his head and adjusts his glasses. You stand and wrap your arms around his waist. “Baby, I love you, but that was a little too cheesy to be sexy.” You tell him as you rub between the planes of his shoulders.

“Hmm.” He grunts and pushes his tongue against his cheek. “Guess it just needs a little momentum.” He smiles down at you and you raise your brow.

“Was that another pick-up line?” You grin up at him and he meets you with a kiss, pulling away reluctantly and walking toward your office door.

“I’ll see you after work, baby.”

• • •

Finally, you’ve found yourselves back at Marcus’s house. Your relationship wasn’t new by any means. It wasn’t a secret, but you were still being slowly introduced to The Moreno’s family dynamic. You didn’t want to freak Missy out, so you both kept any and all public displays of affection to a minimum. This, mixed with your busy schedules, has left you both high and dry. Tonight, however, Missy was attending a sleepover with her new friends, which gave you the perfect opportunity to be intimate.

You’re barely through the door before Marcus has you pressed against it, pulling you against his chest and pushing against your hips with his own. You wrap your arms around his neck and card your hands through his hair as his tongue glides along your lower lip. He sucks on it and releases it with a graze of his teeth, drawing a moan from you. He grins, knowing he has you in the palm of his hands. Growing impatient with his teasing, you grip the curls by the nape of his neck, dragging him back to your lips. Your faces meeting in a clash of lips and teeth, and your noses pressed to the other’s cheek. His glasses push at an odd angle against his forehead and you take a moment to lift them and set them aside, safely.

“Couch?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

He turns you around and guides you backwards, his lips attached to your neck as your knees meet the cushions and you fall into a tangle of limbs, only separating long enough for you to kick your heels off, pull your pants down and toss them over the side of the couch while he shucks off his leather jacket.

Marcus grips your thighs and pulls you so you fall, unceremoniously, straddling his lap. The zipper of his jeans rubbing deliciously against your clit through your panties. You move at a steady rhythm against each other for a few minutes and he groans beneath you, feeling his cock harden through his jeans.

One particular thrust catches on your sensitive nub and you throw your head back. Marcus takes you in with lust-blown, nearly black eyes. He clenches his jaw, baring his teeth. He wraps his leg around the back of one of your knees and pulls on your hips, flipping you over and onto your back. He then pins you hands above your head and pauses to study you.

His show of strength has you clenching your thighs to ease the loss of pressure from changing positions. “Baby? Why’d you stop?” You try to grind against him, but he takes one of his hands from above your head to pin your waist to the couch.

“Have you heard of Newton’s Laws of Motion?”

You give him a curious look. What is going on with him today? “Marcus, we are in the middle of something a little more important, so it’s kind of hard to remember-“

Marcus moves a strand of your hair behind your ear and leans in to whisper. “Sweetheart, when i’m done, you’ll be reciting them.” The feel of his lips along your neck is the olive branch he extends from your brief disruption.

He grinds against you with a slow and steady pace. Not quite enough pressure, but at least you’re moving. “The first law states that a body in motion stays in motion, and a body at rest-‘ he stills your hips and you whine at the loss of friction. “will stay at rest unless a force acts upon it.” He releases your hands and you tug on his belt loops in protest as he begins to move again to your relief. He grabs your hips and holds your center against his thigh, applying a little more pressure, but still keeping that slow rhythm.

“This brings us to our second law. The acceleration of an object is dependent on force and mass. Try to move against me.” You rid yourself of your lustful daze long enough to listen. You try to grind up into him. You’re barely able to move him, much less yourself. “Not quite.” He tuts. “I am the mass. You have to generate enough force to move me. Try again.” he says in a raspy voice that drives you to do as he says. This time you grind against his thigh with enough force to move him and pick up the pace. “There it is, baby.” You nearly fall apart at his words. This is so much hotter than you imagined and you are quickly reaching your peak just from rubbing against him.

“Now for the third law.” He grasps your thighs and holds you to him as he starts to move in tandem with you. “Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.” With every push of your hips, he returns in kind. dragging his restrained cock against your clothed center. Your vision is blurring and you’re not sure you’ll last much longer, surprised that Marcus has managed as long as he has.

A husky moan escapes Marcus’s lips as he stills your movements to control his own strokes. “I-I’m close, baby. uuuhhhhh F-fuck.” He pushes your shirt over your chest to reveal your pebbled nipples. He kisses up your sternum and nips under your breast. Your breath hitches as he takes a nipple into his mouth and pulls it taut between his teeth.

“Oh, Fuck! Marcus!” His thrusts, just the right speed and pressure, paired with his mouth on your tits. It has you seeing stars. Your pussy constricts with blinding pleasure as you cum. Marcus is not far behind as his steady stride becomes erratic. He grunts and his hips stutter against yours, gripping your biceps while he rides the high of his orgasm.“Fuck.” he collapses on top of you, knocking the wind out of you.

“Ugh! Marcus, baby…” You push him into a more comfortable position for the both of you, his torso between your legs and head resting on your chest. “Sorry, we didn’t make it past the living room this time, honey…” He huffs, rubbing next to your panty line over the dips of your hips.

“Hey, you won’t see me complaining.” You pull his shirt over his head to get you both more comfortable. “Hey, Marcus?”

“Yeah, baby?” He tilts his head to look up to you with those beautiful brown eyes that you’ve fallen for countless times.

“That…. was sexy as hell.” you bite your lip. His smirk grows to a toothy grin.

“Yeah? You think so?”

You nod your head, mirroring his expression. “Yeah, you were really cute at work with those pick-up lines, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn’t into any of it. But this was something else entirely.”

He chuckles and starts to stand. You groan at the loss of him, not wanting to part just yet. But he has other ideas. He leans over you and picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. You squeal in protest and he smacks your ass. You realize he’s leading you to the bedroom.

“Don’t worry, baby, we still have plenty of energy to transfer, tonight.”

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x fem!reader #marcus moreno x female reader #we can be heroes #wcbh #marcus moreno one shot #hot dilfs in your area #pedro pascal characters

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melanielocke · 3 years

Text

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 21

AO3

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised

Previous Chapter: Chapter 20

Next Chapter: Chapter 22

Cordelia returned to the entrance with the dead werewolf for a second time when Alastair had figured out how to operate the water mechanism. It was confusing, apparently there was a sewer system, but it was closed off and that’s why the flood water didn’t recede. Now it was, and Cordelia realized there were even more doors and corridors where the water had been. Perhaps the flood had been on purpose. Solving this couldn’t be impossible, but it could be a pain and Tatiana had probably designed it in such a way that it could take some time to solve.

‘Lucie, are you still up there?’

‘We’re alright!’ It wasn’t Lucie, but Thomas calling back down.

‘We solved the water mechanism and can now access the lower floor!’ Cordelia called back. ‘Alastair is in a different room, he’s trying to solve a puzzle to reveal… I don’t know what it will reveal but we figured it was important. Also, we found a few keys but for some reason they break after opening a door with them. Most so far led to dead end rooms with another key.’

‘Ah, that’s annoying,’ Thomas said. ‘Probably part of the puzzle though. I think it’s common in game dungeons that you can use a key on any locked door in the area but only once.’

Cordelia frowned. ‘That makes no sense,’ she called back.

‘I guess she could have made different keys for every door as well, but this works. Good luck, and come here if you need anything!’

Cordelia hesitated. ‘Is Lucie alright?’

‘Yes, just taking a nap. She reversed the changes but it’s tiring, so she’s trying to conserve energy. Right now, everything is as it was when we entered, but I’ll keep watch.’

‘Alright, I’ll be back,’ Cordelia called up.

‘Good luck.’

Cordelia returned into the dungeon. Alastair was no longer in the room with the puzzle, instead he was standing in the corridor that was formerly flooded. It smelled disgusting down there, and Alastair seemed quite vexed by it.

‘The bloody thing broke again!’

‘What?’

‘The key! I solved the sliding block puzzle, which was more of a physical effort than a mental one considering the blocks were heavy to move, but the only reward was another bloody key. So I figured I’d be careful with it and open this door here, and the key broke again.’

‘Thomas thinks that might be part of the puzzle design,’ Cordelia said. ‘Every key can only be used once. What’s behind that door?’

The key mechanism was a bit odd. Cordelia had tried to cut down another door, but there had been another magical barrier there. A key had been able to open it by sticking it into the air, which made no sense. Then the key had broken. None of the keys had opened the former door to Grace’ skin though, but if the design of this thing made any sense, she suspected there would be a special key. Cordelia hoped sticking the special key into the magical barrier would do the trick.

‘Another room with another puzzle. Come see.’

Cordelia took the ladder to descend into the lower floor and entered the room Alastair was in. It was a room lit by torches, one door on the other end. Along the walls were thick green vines that had overgrown another door. There was a table in the center with a cauldron, several bottles of differently colored liquids, and a recipe on a piece of paper.

Cordelia guessed it was a good thing there was another door, several of the previous rooms had been dead ends, with another puzzle to reveal another key. She suspected this one would take them deeper into the dungeon, which she imagined was where they needed to be.

‘I think we’re supposed to make a weed killer here.’ Alastair said. ‘We could probably bypass this with cortana.’

Cordelia wasn’t so sure. ‘Every time I tried to cheat with cortana, there was still a magical barrier. It looks like all the ingredients are here at least. All we have to do is follow the recipe.’

Following the recipe was not as easy as it sounded. Not all bottles were labeled, and they had to compare pictures. Some of the bottles looked very similar and were hard to distinguish on the drawing. Still, Alastair seemed sure of what he was doing. Cordelia not so much.

‘You’re not supposed to add that yet!’ Cordelia yelled.

‘Yes, I do,’ Alastair groaned. ‘It’s right here.’

‘No, that’s this bottle,’ Cordelia insisted.

‘No it’s not.’

‘And after that, you add exactly three petals of this flower,’ Cordelia added.

‘You do it then,’ Alastair said, putting down the bottle and stepping away from the potion.

Cordelia thankfully took his place and added a different bottle which she believed was the correct one. Not much later they were having a similar discussion, arguing about which of the two remaining bottles needed to emptied into the cauldron and which one was to be discarded.

‘You’re so bloody stubborn,’ Cordelia groaned. ‘Can’t you just accept that I’m right?’

‘I would if you were actually right,’ Alastair said in a superior tone. ‘As it is, I’m absolutely certain you need to use this bottle.’

Cordelia checked the instructions once more and guessed maybe Alastair was right. The drawing was inconclusive to say the least.

‘Alright, I’ll try this one. But if it all blows up, I’m blaming you.’

‘I can live with that. Just do it.’

Cordelia took the bottle Alastair believed was the right one, and emptied it over the cauldron, stirring three times counter clockwise as described.

‘This should be it.’

‘It didn’t explode,’ Alastair said. ‘So I’m hopeful that means it works.’

‘Help me carry this.’

Cordelia was quite strong herself after years of training with cortana, but carrying an entire cauldron of this stuff to the vines was a two person job.

The vines receded, allowing them to reach the door and open it. Cordelia was very thankful this door could simply be opened and was not dependent on another key.

‘This is turning into a bloody maze,’ Alastair said, looking into the next corridor.

He had a point, the door led into a corridor with several others branching off. The pathways were much narrower than before, just wide enough for the two of them, and dimly lit by torches high up.

‘We don’t happen to have a thread, do we?’ Cordelia asked.

‘No, but we can find our way through,’ Alastair promised. ‘You just need to stay with me Layla.’

‘I’ll go warn Thomas first,’ Cordelia said. ‘That we’re entering a maze and it might be some time until we make it through.’

Cordelia climbed up to the first room as quick as she could and shouted upward. ‘Everything still alright there?’

‘Lucie just did the spell again, but she’s getting really tired, she’s taking another nap. I’m not so sure she could do it again.’

‘The next room is a maze and we’re not sure how long it will take,’ Cordelia called back.

‘Are you sure you won’t get lost?’

‘With Alastair’s memory, we can retrace our steps. He can draw a map in his head.’

‘Alright, good luck!’

Cordelia returned to Alastair, who was waiting in front of the door, and the two of them entered the maze together, Cordelia staying close to her brother.

‘I already checked this corridor and it’s a dead end,’ Alastair said.

‘We can try that one,’ Cordelia said, pointing at a corridor to the right that seemed to branch off in several other corridors.

Cordelia followed her brother and it didn’t take long for her to have no clue where she was or how to get back. The maze was dimly lit by torches and Cordelia wondered if those were magic too, or if someone had lit them recently. Their pace was slow, Alastair glancing around, careful to take in enough information to keep track of the location. There were decorations on the wall, old Corinthian style pillar like structures. They weren’t quite pillars as they were part of the wall. There was a relief, something Roman or Greek, even though they were in Scotland and the Romans had never made it here. Perhaps Tatiana liked the classics, she created this right?

Cordelia wondered how someone could create such a structure. It undoubtedly involved making a deal first, although perhaps Lucie had the power to shape things here on her own. Would she be able to make a maze like this too?

They reached a dead end and Alastair turned back, choosing another corridor. Cordelia couldn’t be sure it wasn’t the one they’d been in before, everything looked so similar, but she trusted Alastair knew what he was doing.

‘I must say this is a proper defense,’ Alastair said. ‘Chances of getting lost in here are pretty high if you don’t know what you’re doing.’

‘They say that in a maze, you should put one hand on the wall and follow that wall so that your hand never leaves it,’ Cordelia said.

‘That would work eventually, but takes forever,’ Alastair said.

Cordelia stepped on something hard. ‘Hang on for a moment,’ she said as she bent down, taking the object into her hand.

It was a key, just like the others. ‘That one could have been easy to miss,’ Cordelia said, putting the key in her pocket. ‘Good thing I stepped on it.’

‘Not another key,’ Alastair groaned. ‘How many more of these things are out here?’

‘I don’t want to know,’ Cordelia said. ‘But I’m glad we found it now and don’t reach the exit and realize there we missed a key somewhere.’

‘I think if that happened, I would murder Tatiana, ask Lucie to bring me her ghost and then murder her again.’

Cordelia couldn’t say she disagreed. She guessed exploring such an underground structure would be fun in a video game, but in real life it involved a lot of walking and if you failed at something you couldn’t always just try again.

After some more time of trying different paths and Alastair telling her where to go next, they reached a door with a lock on it. The exit.

Cordelia tried her key and it fit. Once again, it broke off while Cordelia opened the door, rendering the key useless but the door opened.

‘Stupid key,’ Alastair muttered, along with a string or Persian curse words he would never have dared speak in their mother’s presence.

‘At least the door is open.’

The next room was a large dome shaped hall, much lighter than the others. There was an opening to the surface at the top of the room that let light from outside in, but they would never be able to reach it from here. Nor would they fit through, as there were bars blocking the exit.

There were no doors apart from the once through which they entered, and in the middle of the room on an elevated platform was a key.

‘If I were to design this dungeon to keep something of mine safe, this would definitely be a trap.’

‘I agree,’ Cordelia said. ‘But that key has to be the one to Grace’ skin.’

It was a golden key, bigger than the others. This had to be it. If it were a video game, the dungeon would probably end in a fight against some monster who was here to guard the key, but Cordelia had already fought a werewolf, and besides, where would a monster come from here? There was nowhere it could be hidden. But there could be a number of deadly traps on the platform itself.

Cordelia held cortana in front of her and carefully took a step closer until her sword reached the key. She used the dull edge to make sure the key wasn’t harmed in the process, and pulled it towards her, off the platform. She carefully picked up the key from the ground. As she did, the door behind her slammed shut.

‘Now you’ve done it,’ Alastair groaned, turning back and trying to open the door.

Locked, just as expected. She had the key, but now they had no way out. Water started filling up the room, slowly at first, but progressively faster.

‘There has to be a solution!’ Cordelia said. ‘Some way to stop the water and get the door to open.’

‘There’s no time! I knew it was a trap.’

The water reached Cordelia’s waist already. It was cold water, chilled her to the bone. If they didn’t drown, they might as well die from hypothermia.

‘Yes, we both did. But at least I have the key.’

‘Which is no use if we don’t get out of here,’ Alastair hissed. ‘We’ve come too far to drown in gross water.’

***

Thomas was growing worried. He hadn’t heard a thing from Alastair or Cordelia ever since they’d mentioned they had to go into a maze next. Which made sense, going into a maze might take a while and they might not be able to report back as easily anymore. If anyone could navigate a maze, it was Alastair. With his memory, he’d know where he’d been and where to go. He would be able to trace his own route back. They could do this. But Thomas had no idea what else was waiting down there. It seemed to be a rule that there had to be a solution, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any deadly traps.

Lucie was napping. Thomas didn’t think she was really asleep, but at least lying down as comfortably as she could with her eyes closed allowed her some rest. It was becoming difficult for her, Thomas could tell. The wall had changed again, the first sign, but Thomas wasn’t sure if he should wake Lucie already. It was only the first change, it wasn’t coming close to the land of the thief of souls yet.

Lucie sat up for a moment, rubbing her eyes, smudging some dark make up into the corner of her eye. ‘That’s odd,’ she said.

‘What is?’

‘There’s a ghost here,’ she said. ‘Just behind you.’

Thomas instinctively looked before realizing, of course, he wasn’t going to see a ghost.

Lucie tilted her head, her gaze fixated on something behind Thomas. ‘Well, I think it’s a ghost. But it looks like how people portray ghosts in movies, not the way ghosts usually look. White and transparent.’

‘I don’t see anything,’ Thomas said. ‘So that probably confirms it’s a ghost. Can you make them visible?’

Lucie looked into the distance, her gaze fixated on something Thomas did not see. ‘Show yourself.’ There was an air of authority in her voice, she was no longer asking, she was commanding.

A woman appeared in the middle of the ruins. She didn’t seem as Lucie had described, she did not look like a movie ghost, nor was she transparent. She looked vaguely familiar but Thomas couldn’t tell why. She had to be in her early thirties, he guessed. Long brown hair, kind eyes. Upon closer look, they seemed greenish, a rare color. Similar to his father’s eyes though.

‘Who are you?’ Lucie asked.

‘My name is Barbara. Barbara Lightwood.’

Thomas’ mouth fell open. ‘No, it can’t be. You’re not her.’

Barbara was his sister. Barbara was twenty three and had recently graduated as a nurse. Barbara was in Paris with her boyfriend Oliver, and they were having fun. She wasn’t a ghost. The woman did resemble Barbara, but Thomas could tell it wasn’t her. For one, she was too old. Some of the features didn’t match. His sister Barbara had brown eyes, this woman’s eyes were green like his father’s. But he had to admit the resemblance was startling. Then it hit him. His grandmother, Benedict’s wife, was also called Barbara. His father had named Thomas’ eldest sister Barbara in her memory, just like Thomas himself had been named after a close friend of his mother’s who’d died young. This woman was his grandmother, who’d died when his father was five.

‘What do you mean?’ the woman asked. ‘You do not know me, do you? Can you tell me where I am? I need to get home as soon as I can. My children aren’t safe. My husband is up to something and I need to get the children and run before something happens to them.’

‘Do not worry. Your children are fine,’ Lucie said.

Thomas wasn’t so sure that was true, but he suspected Barbara didn’t realize how much time had passed. She believed she had very young children who were with her husband. His father had been around five when she died. It occurred to Thomas that she’d figured out what he was up to. She’d tried to run. Thomas had never realized, he didn’t think his father had either. Was trying to leave why she’d died? Thomas had been told abusive partners were at their most dangerous when one tried to leave.

‘No, they’re not,’ Barbara insisted. She looked terrified. ‘I do not know what it is Benedict’s doing, but it’s bad and I cannot allow him to be around my children. It is not safe for them. I will contact my brother Silas, we can stay with him until I have it all worked out and know we’re safe from Benedict. I had it all planned out.’

‘You died,’ Lucie said. ‘Ghosts do not always realize. You’ve been dead for a very long time. Your children are all grown up.’

Barbara turned to Thomas and took him in. She squinted, taking all of him in. ‘You look so much like him… Is that you, are you my Gideon? I always knew you were going to grow to be very tall.’

Thomas tried to hide the tears in the corners of his eyes. It was all becoming a bit much. ‘No, my name is Thomas. Thomas Lightwood. Gideon Lightwood is my father. And he’s not as tall as me, although he is still taller than average.’

‘Your father… How long has it been? He was five, the last time I saw him. Just this high.’ She held up her hand to indicate how tall his father had been,.

‘He’s forty five now,’ Thomas said.

‘It’s been forty years?’ Barbara’s mouth fell open. ‘I’ve been gone for that long? And my children have grown up without me. I should have been there for them, I should not have left them alone in that big house. Benedict has gone mad.’

‘Benedict died years ago,’ Thomas assured her. ‘We’re all safe from him.’

‘I think it’s the same as with Jesse,’ Lucie said. ‘He didn’t remember anything from where he’d been, and I don’t think Barbara does either. Jesse did realize he was dead, but he could only tell how long it’s been because he recognized me and saw I’d aged.’

‘Where have I been?’ Barbara asked. ‘The last thing I remember is packing up to leave. I had to make sure he didn’t find out, so I hid a suitcase in my closet and secretly packed whatever I would need. He never looks there. I packed clothes, the children’s toys. All my jewelry so I’d have some funds.’

‘What happened after?’ Thomas asked. ‘Did he find out you were trying to leave?’

Barbara closed her eyes, as if she was trying to remember. ‘He did find my suitcase. He realized I planned to leave with the children. He got so mad, I don’t think I’d ever been so scared. I wanted to run, damn the suitcase, but Tatiana was in the nursery and Gabriel was in the play room, and I had to get to them first. I couldn’t leave without my babies. And then he went into his study and although I didn’t understand why, I rushed to my children. I thought I’d get Gabriel and Tatiana, get in the car and go to my brother, and then I could pick Gideon up from school. But I don’t think I ever reached my children. That is the last thing I remember.’

‘That must have been when he made the deal,’ Lucie said. ‘Perhaps he didn’t want to at first, or at least had some doubts, but when he realized Barbara was leaving he decided to make her the sacrifice.’

‘What did he do to me?’ Barbara’s voice broke as she asked that question.

‘Uhm, we’re not completely sure,’ Thomas said. ‘But we think he traded your soul for power. We’re still figuring out what’s going on or why you’re here. We think you can’t remember anything because you were with the thief of souls.’

Was that why she’d appeared more ghost like than usual? Perhaps because she’d been in the realm of the thief of souls, and they were in between, so she was only half there. Perhaps by demanding she show herself, Lucie had pulled her through. Would there be a cost if they set her free? Thomas imagined it wasn’t the same as trading him for Jesse, Benedict must have promised his wife and he never remarried so he didn’t have another wife for the thief of souls to take. Besides, Lucie hadn’t made a deal. She’d taken Barbara away from him, perhaps she could take her into their world as well.

‘I don’t understand,’ Barbara said. ‘He killed me, you say? But what then? Who is the thief of souls? Why can’t I remember?’

Thomas frowned, and then turned to Lucie. ‘Could you make her remember?’

‘I command you to remember what happened the past years.’

Barbara stared blankly. ‘I still don’t remember anything.’

‘That doesn’t work,’ Lucie mused. ‘Perhaps if Alastair helps me. Memory is his domain, ghosts are mine, perhaps if we somehow combine our powers we can help her remember.’

‘They haven’t checked in in a while,’ Thomas said. ‘I think it’s because they went into a maze and it takes longer, but I have no clue how they’re doing.’

‘If anyone can do it, it’s them,’ Lucie said. ‘They won’t get lost.’

‘I don’t understand what you are discussing,’ Barbara said. ‘What happened after I died? My husband killed me. But my children, they are fine? He didn’t hurt them?’

‘Mostly,’ Thomas said. ‘They grew up in Benedict’s house, and I think it wasn’t easy for them. They didn’t realize at the time just how dangerous it was what he was doing.’

Thomas guessed perhaps Benedict did somewhat care about his children, perhaps he would be proud that Tatiana was following in his footsteps. Perhaps it was what he would have wanted for his father and uncle Gabriel. But he was also the kind of man who’d neglected his children, expected them to be his heirs rather than human beings.

‘My father found out eventually, with the help of my mother, Sophie. And then Benedict turned into a giant worm, we’re not sure why exactly, and was killed. I think it was difficult, for them, to process, but my father and uncle Gabriel found ways to cope with it and found support.’

Thomas wasn’t sure exactly how much damage had never healed, but he suspected it was part of why his father cared so much about Alastair. Because like him, Alastair had never had a father he could love or respect. What would it take for Alastair to see that Thomas’ father cared about him, and not just his ability?

Barbara frowned. ‘And Tati? What happened to her?’

Thomas wasn’t sure how to tell her this. The last she remembered of her daughter was a one year old girl, a baby. He sighed, there was no easy way to say this but he couldn’t keep it from her. ‘Tatiana had a son. Jesse was his name. And at some point in his life, Benedict had promised a grandchild to the same being he sacrificed you to. The choice came down to me or Jesse. So when Jesse was twelve and I was nearly fourteen, he died. And now Tatiana made a deal to bring him back. We have not been on good terms with her in a long time.’

He heard a sound from beneath the trap door, something he could not make out. Thomas shone down with his flashlight and realized it was water. Water gushing into the hall, slowly flooding the area. Thomas’ breathing quickened. The place was flooding. Alastair and Cordelia were still in there. They were going to drown, and there was nothing Thomas could do about it. But perhaps Lucie could.

‘Lucie!’

‘What is it?’

‘The dungeon, it’s flooding and Alastair and Cordelia are still down there.’

In the distance, Thomas heard a song. He could make out a sweet feminine voice that sounded like the sea and all he wanted was to go to her. He forgot about Alastair and Cordelia, he forgot about his worries. The song, the girl, she was all that mattered. He would do whatever she asked of him, no questions asked. Why should he? There was nothing he wanted more than to serve her, to be near her always. He could not remember what else there was for him.

#Alastair Carstairs #Cordelia Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Lucie Herondale #Thomastair #Lucelia #fanfiction #the last hours #tlh

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danteinthedevildom · 3 years

Text

A Royal Pajama Party “Analysis” - Part 3 (of 7)

Unlike the previous two posts - which were fairly length - this one is a little less of a formal analysis and more of a “holy shit this man’s so fucking cute” ramble. It’s significantly shorter; I would have actually compiled these together with the previous post if Tumblr wasn’t so awful with its image-per-post limit.

It continues with Diavolo and MC watching a movie together, and once again leads into more Story Key-locked content. So, here is your cursory spoiler warning!

Picking up from the previous post, the movie Diavolo picks to watch with you is a black and white Human World film. A few thoughts come to mind on this.

One: He picked a movie specifically because he wanted to watch it with you. Not just anyone in general, or even just a human in general - specifically you. He spends a lot of time thinking about and noting down things he wants to do with you.

This, to begin with, is just... impossibly sweet. He’s never had a friend before, so he’s never had someone to think about when he’s looking at things he enjoys. Even the closest demons to him don’t generally like humouring him with his more playful whims.

Now, however? He has you. Someone willing to spend time with him. Suddenly, he has someone utterly receptive to the things he loves; someone happy enough to listen, someone who might enjoy them just as much as he does.

We’ve all done it before, after all. As soon as we know someone’s happy to listen to you ramble about something, we take note of things we think they might like so we can share it with them and (potentially) get them into it as well. Make it a bonding experience, because we like the thing and we like them, so why not mix the two? That’s how you deepen a friendship, after all.

It’s such a normal, human thing for Diavolo to do. He’s sincerely just happy to have you there; to finally have someone he can pick out likes to share with. Just a passing thought - “Oh, MC might like that, I’ll have to save it for our sleepover” - that speaks a thousand words to how often (how casually, naturally, easily) he thinks about you.

But it’s also a bit more than that. Because while this is just about the movie, we’ve already seen Diavolo admit he’s quite literally written out a list of activities he wants to do with you.

How long is that list? What sort of things has he got written down? We’ve been given a small glimpse at the list for this Devilgram, but it really is just a small glimpse. How many times has Diavolo seen something that has immediately pinged in his brain as “things I need to do with/show MC”?

(How many things has he never felt comfortable or happy showing anyone else before?

How many times has he tried to share his interests, only for them to be rejected?)

Two: It’s Human World media. Diavolo’s only recently (in the main game) gotten to see the Human World properly, and considering this is black and white, I’d say it’s fairly old. At the latest? Maybe a hundred years old at this point.

That’s (possibly) at least 100 years Diavolo’s been consuming Human World media.

The fact that he’s remembered it this long, too - for you to appear, and him to want to share it with you - either means it’s something he watches frequently, or it’s something that made a big impression on him.

Diavolo’s infatuated with the Human World, that much we already knew; one of his Homescreen interactions is about wanting to see the sunset, and another mentions how he hasn’t been to the Human World (either at all, or often). It’s something he wants to see more - something that excites him in a very boyish, childish way. Like a kid going on holiday to Disney World after seeing it on TV a thousand times.

But this isn’t a recent infatuation. The movie (potentially) proves this. Even before the Exchange Programme - before he met you - he’s held this infatuation with humanity. It’s not just about peace; there’s something about the Human World that draws Diavolo in.

There’s more evidence of this in a later post, so I’ll go over this a bit more then. For now, however...

We can say with certainty that Diavolo wasn’t kidding when he said the Exchange Programme has been a dream of his for some time. It makes me wonder just how far back he wanted to unite the Three Realms, and why; whether he started with interest in the Celestial Realm or the Human World, and whether or not he hoped the Exchange would branch out his social contacts (considering we already know that demons don’t tend to spend time with him, and Diavolo is horrendously lonely).

(As an aside: the fact that he’s seemingly so infatuated with the Human World makes it even more special for him to share this movie with you. This is something he adores, something that’s affected him so much, he’s dedicated his life to improving relations across the Three Realms - and he wants you to experience it, too.)

Three: A bit more of a joking point, admittedly. Boy really said “I’ve been wanting to watch this movie with you that I love that also happens to be related to the Human World” with the same vibe as Ariel seeing the Prince for the first time and realising he could tell her what all the crap she’s been collecting is for.

I just... love the idea that his logic is “well, MC is human. This movie was made in the Human World. Ergo, this is the most appropriate movie to watch with MC for our super special sleepover!”

He’s so determined for everything to be perfect... I wonder if this movie was his immediate choice - something he’s always known from the start he’d do with you first the moment he could - or if he debated over several movies for the longest time, trying to come up with the best possible choice.

Adorable ramble time!

He’s good, in that he won’t make you do anything you don’t want to - you’re always given the choice of how close you want to be to Diavolo, and if you want to nope out of vaguely (or even overtly) romantic situations even at the last minute - but when given the chance? He will get as close to you as possible.

He’ll have you sit right next to him, pressed arm-to-arm, thigh-to-thigh. He’ll thread his fingers through yours, and rest your joined hands on your lap. And he’ll savour every moment, because this isn’t something he gets often, if at all.

That comment - “your hand is so warm...” - has such a sense of awe to it. He’s finally close enough to you to say that you’re warm. He’s finally reached this pinnacle of contact that he’s always wanted - and look at him! He’s so happy! He’s so, genuinely, wonderfully happy to be this close to you.

He’s been wanting to watch the movie with you for at least months, if not a few years (timeline depending), and he finally has the time to show you this thing he’s genuinely excited for you to see - and it is totally blown out of the water by the fact you’re snuggled up to him, holding his hand.

That’s how special you are to him. That’s how special this moment is for him.

There’s something so sweet - and yet so heartbreaking - at seeing the damn Prince of the Devildom get so flustered over asking to hold your hand. I know that the OM demons aren’t always depicted as your typical demons, and a few of them are fairly sex-shy, but there’s just... something about this scene that hits different.

He’s so tentative, so hopeful, to be able to hold your hand. He’s so shy about it, too. And, yes, some of that is absolutely him fretting over ruining the evening by asking - fretting over chasing you off if he’s too touchy, when you’re already doing so much just by staying as long as you have - but some of it has to be him not knowing if that’s an okay thing to ask for. Wanting to get closer, but not knowing if it’s appropriate.

I have a lot of feelings about this scene. It’s just... whether you see it as romantic or not, he’s so happy. He’s so happy just to have you there. He’s so happy you’re humouring him. He’s so happy you’re letting him do these very simple things.

He’s so lonely. And you just make all of that go away.

This is actually more of a silly thing, but I just wanted to note that - the Devildom has fucking Jenga and it’s called The Demonic Tower.

I’m also still not over this for a slightly sadder reason. This is another one of the things that Diavolo wanted to do with you - another activity on his list. And it’s playing fucking Jenga.

He knew/knows so few people and has such little free time, something as simple as Jenga is riveting entertainment for him.

He’s played so few board games in his life, he actually thought it was worthwhile to write down as something he absolutely had to do with you for your special, rare night of shared time spent together.

There are so many normal, plain, boring, everyday life experiences he’s never done, and every new thing he presents just hits harder than the last.

+++

And that concludes our (slightly shorter) part 3! Once again, thank you for making it this far. Hopefully the slightly lighter post was alright-

Next post, we’re going to skip ahead a bit. The game of Jenga itself is mostly just fun, so there’s no need to focus on it specifically. What is important, however, is the next activity - and what Diavolo does based on certain choices.

So, if you’d like, head on over to part 4!

#obey me diavolo #obey me analysis #obey me

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nyxdelanuit · 4 years

Text

My Kingdom for a Bath (Ojiro x Reader)

This is for the BNHarem’s Apocalypse NSFW Collab!! THE MASTERLIST CAN BE FOUND HERE! Be sure to check everyone else’s out c:

NSFW BELOW~

It had been two years since the world you had known disappeared. No one could come to an agreement on what had happened. Some said that a quirk had raged out of control, some said that it was an act of terrorism, and others said it was an experiment to fight global warming and deforestation gone awry.

All you knew was that two years ago, you were visiting your parents in their modest suburban town one moment, and the next, the ground was splitting apart under your feet. It was pure devastation, a reclaiming of the earth sped up by a millennium. From the fissures grew giant redwoods, consuming houses and breaking people along their boughs. Those that were able took to the skies, leaving those like you scattered among the broken ground.

Few lived through that, and fewer still survived the days to come. So dependent on the culture of convenience, not many were able to find ways to feed and shelter themselves. Those with quirks closely related to nature flourished until people flocked to them, relying on their energies to sustain groups double or triple their limit. Those groups tended to die out quickly, the leader succumbing to their frailties or abandoning them altogether. People that were used to farming struggled to till the overgrown soil, barely able to pull together crop enough to feed what was left of their families. And then there were those like you, who lost everything in the fall: no family, no ties, no way of finding out if your friends survived elsewhere.

You wandered, the only way you were sure you'd survive. It was a surprise to you that you'd been able to survive this long on your own, but while everyone else had tried looting the remains of grocery stores and cafes, you had focused on raiding the bookstores. Books on survival, camping, memoirs of people lost in deserted areas, as many as you could carry, were cradled in your hold. The most useful for this new world were compiled, using a stray pair of scissors you found to carefully cut out the needed pages and bind them to the others with twine. You had tried for the first few weeks to carry them all, covers and all, but the weight on your shoulders prevented you from finding enough food to keep you going.

They were invaluable, teaching you how to find clean water and how to make simple snares for small game. More than once, you had held a plant close to your mouth before deciding to check your notes, finding it the more poisonous cousin of a mild vegetable. It made you wonder how many others passed that way before you.

Now you wandered through the central city, normally an hour's drive from your parent's home. It had taken you months to trek here, through the skeletons of cities devoured by ivy and teeming with wildlife not seen in centuries. They were becoming more brazen as of late, and you had wondered how long you'd be able to stave them off with no more than your survival knife at your hip.

The city looked more eerie than any town you had traversed. The concrete below your feet was reduced to no more than pebbles providing you traction. Redwoods and cedars towered where buildings used to kiss the sky, the structures that still stood consumed in creeping vines and sinking into the loamy soil.

You weren't immune to missing the comforts of your old life, that is why you were here after all. On the other side of this sprawling city was an old road, tucked into what had been quaint woods. Following the path took you to a modest hotel, one that you hoped was moderately untouched, for that hotel had been known for the only hot springs within your area. Thinking about it only made you aware of the grime that clung to you like a second skin.

It was so close, you could almost feel the warm embrace of the water against your skin. Washing yourself in the cold rivers and streams only to be covered in pollen and debris the moment you set foot on land had driven you to the edge of sanity, and those outdoor baths would be your only solace. You felt a surge of energy that hadn’t graced you for months, trekking through the ruins of the places you used to visit. It was a melancholy sight, like seeing the places you walked during the day in the lens of the night. It used to be bustling, always busy, and now you were the only soul in sight scrambling over tree roots the size of cars and through brambles that threatened to embed their thorns into your legs as you passed.

You had made good time on trekking through the overgrown city. You assumed you were a good few miles into the city proper by the time night started to descend. While you weren't able to wait for unassuming prey to fall into one of your snares, you had hidden away a few portions of meat you had smoked in your bag, enjoying your full belly as the embers of your fire lulled you to sleep.

That was your intent, at least, until the rustling around you started to sound less like the usual small animals scurrying around you and more menacing, larger. Your hand flew to the knife at your side, dulled from daily use, but the only defense you had.

You wished you still had enough faith in humanity to feel relieved when a man walked into your clearing. You wish you hadn’t seen how far people could fall when their survival was no longer ensured. But your hand stayed planted on the blade as the blonde-haired stranger made himself known. It eased your nerves a little that he was purposefully making himself known. He made no further attempts to placate you, however.

“Fire is dangerous around here.” The words he spoke were rough, as if he hadn’t needed to use his voice until now. Your eyes narrowed as a tail swung behind him, kicking up dirt and smothering your sad excuse for a fire. The moon was bright enough that it only took moments for your eyes to adjust. The stranger was already turning to leave.

“The animals around here will not hesitate to turn on you if you keep making yourself known.” With that, he nodded, moving to leave.

"Wait…" You called out, not knowing why you were trying to reach out to this man. You had gone so long without relying on others, so why were you teasing yourself with the thought of his company? You watched him pause, turning to you. It seemed that something changed within, and he looked over you once more. For a moment, you thought you could see the shadow of who he was before all of this began.

“How far is it to your group? I could lead you to them if you wish.” His voice was soft, as if he was speaking to a victim of some great tragedy. You supposed you all were, at this point.

“I don’t… I’ve never had a group.” You stuttered out, your throat catching on words unused for months. “I’m… not from around here.” He nodded, eyes unfocused as he thought.

"Neither am I. I was stationed here maybe two weeks before…" Before whatever this world had become. It was funny how, when the world falls apart, people became so xenophobic. Anyone unknown turned away to shelter those they had grown with. What a lousy time for you to be so far from your home. "Would you like to come with me? At least for the night?" A fire burned in his eyes, a desire to protect that you had all but forgotten. You found yourself nodding before you could process his request—anything but staying in the ghost of this place, the dark moving in like an unwelcome visitor.

He moved quickly, naturally, through the undergrowth. His tail, thick and sturdy, providing him extra support as he glided near silently through fallen leaves. He made you feel clumsy and loud despite how far you had come these past few years. He at least had a mind to make sure you were following him alright, adjusting his pace once he realized you had fallen behind.

The silence of the night, filled only with the chattering of bugs, unnerved you. Unable to take the creeping quiet, you spoke your name. A small offering to the person saving you from solitude. "Ojiro Mashirao." His voice was tenuous, as if the name would offend. It sparked some dull memory in your mind's recesses, some small thread that you were unable to follow. Your rolled his name in your mouth, savoring the syllables as they fell from your tongue.

He turned to you with a soft smile. How long had it been since he's heard his voice from someone else's mouth? How long had it been since you had heard yours? It felt almost foreign at this point. Ojiro had led you to a massive cedar, the branches reaching out to shelter the area with a pitch-black canopy. You watched in awe as he swiftly launched himself onto the lowest limb, his tail propelling him higher and higher.

He seemed confused when he realized you weren't following. Even if you had wanted to, the nearest branch fell perfectly out of your grasp. You had doubted the large fungi that littered the bark would hold your weight if you tried to scale the tree using them. Ojiro looked almost ashamed as he watched you struggle below.

You were just a lone citizen making your way through this unforgiving world, you didn’t have the advantages of all the training he had. Snaking his way back down to stand before you, he looked down apologetically.

"May I?" He held his hand out to you, timidly. Touch. Something else you had almost forgotten. Not like you had much of a choice as you placed your hand in his. With no hesitation, he perched you on his back, adjusting his hold before he vaulted into the sky. It was a strange sort of adrenaline that filled you as he raced through the branches. You hadn't felt the wind upon your face this way since the last time you had been in a car.

He brought you into the main boughs of the tree, thick enough to relax without falling to your death. It seemed as if he had been here for a while. Things littered the branches, sets of clothes, buckets of water, personal effects salvaged from the town. From up here, the animals hidden at your approach wandered around the trunk, as small as ants.

You weren't ready to let go of Ojiro's firm shoulders, wanting to keep sinking into the warmth he exuded. Yet some sense of propriety still spoke within you, ushering you from his hold. To distract yourself from these feelings, you took the time to really look at your surroundings. Luminescent plants littered the trunk of the tree, and u were so high up that the air started to feel just a touch thinner.

"Come, I'll set up a place for you to rest. I can't make a fire, for obvious reasons, but if you stay close, I can keep you warm. It gets cold this far up." You nodded, it was logical, but you were still nervous—two years since you had been this close to someone. You watched as he pulled fabrics from branches, settling them in the cradle of the boughs. It was easily big enough to keep a handful of people nestled in its hold. Your eyes stayed glued to his back, watching the muscle tense beneath his shirt. Even that was enough to send a shiver down your spine, so touch-starved that you were aching to run your hands over his back for a taste of someone else's skin.

He must not have been kidding, laying blankets and scraps of cloth next to the bundle that must have been his. He patted the fabric as he sat in his nest of blankets, ushering you to his side. You slid into the makeshift bed, not bothering with your boots or your clothes. Sure enough, the air turns cold as soon as you stop moving, driving you closer to Ojiro's heat.

"So, where are you heading, if not to a group?" His voice was barely a whisper, trying to not startle you from your half-awake state.

“It’s going to sound really dumb… but there’s a bathhouse on the other side of the city. I just wanted an actual bath, even if it’s in a hot spring.” Sure enough, Ojiro chuckles.

“And after that?” You dazedly shrug, the lull of another body next to you dragging you into sleep.

“There is no after that.” The last flutter of your eyelashes before they fell still revealed Ojiro looking at you, concern written over his face.

You awoke with the sun, something your body had gotten used to. Ojiro was nestled into your side, the two of you tangling together in the night. He blinked awake slowly, not making a move to extract himself from your hold. On the contrary, he looked to your eyes, searching for any discomfort. With the part of you that screamed you were acting impolite hushed by the sleep still heavy in your eyes, you moved closer, burying your face in his chest.

You didn't speak of the morning once the two of you got moving. Ojiro insisted on accompanying you to the bathhouse, and you weren't eager to rid yourself of his presence just yet. His touches became more assured, helping you over obstacles with the support of his hand, wrapping his tail around your waist when you stumbled. Brushes of hands left unspoken but not ignored.

With Ojiro's help, you were able to get through town much faster than you expected. If you had been by yourself, you would have traveled the roads you used to know, but Ojiro only knew the paths naturally carved into the landscape. Two years of memorizing this city-turned-forest, and by noon you were almost halfway to your destination. It was bittersweet, you weren't sure how you'd react once this taste of his company disappeared. As much as you had adapted, you missed the touch of another. You could only imagine your hands intertwined as someone else's so many times before you started to feel pathetic.

As you walked, you shared stories of how you had survived this long on your own. Ojiro listened, enthralled, and worried all at once. You had made so many mistakes, had so many close-calls. The fire he had thought burnt out suddenly blazing in his stomach—the need to protect, to cherish. Still, you impressed him with how you swiftly collected edible plants, giving Ojiro ample time to take down a fresh kill for the both of you. It was such a relief, having a decently balanced meal for once. Something both of you were so thankful for, despite the lack of words to voice it.

The edge of the city was in sight by nightfall. You had hoped that this night would be as peaceful as your first together, but as Ojiro stiffened, you knew it wouldn’t. His hands flew to your waist, gripping you close as he hopped into the nearest tree. While he focused on finding the areas that would best support the two of you, you watched the sounder of boars scrounge through the roots of the tree. You held your breath as they passed underneath. Boars were known to be terribly aggressive, especially in groups. You could only imagine what would have happened without Ojiro by your side.

You didn't have the luxury of sprawling out that night, instead you were tucked into Ojiro's arms as his tail wrapped around the tree. The two of you had used the knives you carried to cut the green branches into strips, threading and braiding them together to make enough of a rope to secure the two of you together.

Sleep didn't come easy between the noise below you and your heart pounding against Ojiro. You could feel his heart echo under your fingertips, and could tell he was trying to adjust without jostling you too much. The morning sun warmed your back, the heat of Ojiro's chest dueling with the flush of your face. It was too much, being this close and not being allowed to touch. At this point, you weren't sure what stopped you, yourself, or the fear that Ojiro wouldn't reciprocate.

It was easy going, wandering through the fields outside the city. It seemed like every place outside of the towns had just become wild instead of the crazy growths that blanketed the buildings behind you. Ojiro still followed you dutifully as you tried to enjoy the calming warmth and dancing grasses around you. It was even harder to find the road that slithered into the adjoining woods with how broken up the path had become. Yet you still soldiered on, the call of the springs ringing in your ears.

For a moment, you were disheartened. The hotel wasn’t as bad as most buildings, but it still showed the effects of disrepair. Signs hung off the walls, ivy’s climbed and crept through windows, the masonry started to crumble apart. But your hope renewed as you crept around the side towards the back.

The fences were all but destroyed, some floating through the bubbling waters. Besides that, everything looked… functional. It wasn't as glamorous as you remembered, but the appeal still stood. Ojiro sent you into the dilapidated structure with explicit instruction to avoid any upper floors and to look for some towels while he quickly got to work clearing the debris from the baths. Much of the building had grown damp and musty, the fabrics inside eaten by the bugs inhabiting the walls, but you finally happened upon a room. The doors were cracked ever so slightly, bringing a fresh breeze through the musty air. Hidden in the storage lockers were towels, once fluffy and smelling of lavender, but still usable. The plush against your hand brought another onslaught of excitement coursing through you, running back to Ojiro.

You breath caught as you returned. Ojiro had done his best to restore the hot springs, and he had stood in the waters, pants rolled up to his knees, trying to place the bamboo fence back into place. His shirt already thrown to the side, letting you admire every dip of his chest and the pull of his muscles as he maneuvered the fencing into place.

"To give you some privacy." He offered as an explanation after he caught your stare. It could have been the heat of the water, but you swore you caught the hint of a blush as he turned away. You retreated to separate sides of the fence, and you didn't have the heart to tell him that you could see straight through the missing slats. You turned your back to the opening, gratefully peeling the clothes from your body and throwing them into another nearby pool to wash later. Standing bare to the expanse of nature, you slipped into the water. You tried to hold back the groan building in you as you sunk to submerge up to your shoulders in the warm embrace of the water. All the sweat and dirt lifted from your skin, and you couldn't resist moving to stand under a mild waterfall built into the side. In your search, you stumbled upon some real shampoo and various other cleaning supplies, leaving half for Ojiro with his towel. Now you opened the shampoo, scrubbing viciously against your scalp. You repeated this until your hair felt silky against your fingers, running through quickly with conditioner. This was the closest to heaven you could remember, standing under warm water and smelling of lavender and jasmine. Your skin was rubbed a sensitive pink, but pink, all the same, no longer stained by the grasses crushed under your touch or dirt under your nails.

You had a chance to really look at your body in the dull reflection of dirty glass nearby. You had grown considerably more lean as you learned to survive, but surprisingly not just skin and bone. It gave you a quick rush of confidence. You looked pretty damn good now that you had gotten a chance to wash away all the years of struggling.

Finally you could just relax, and relax you did. Propped up against the cleanest edge you could find, you let yourself take in the natural wonder around you. You were truly at ease until your sight slipped to the break in the fence. Ojiro faced away from you, body freshly cleaned and shampoo in his blonde locks. The reach of his arms showed off the muscles in his shoulders, and you couldn’t help but admire how the muscles twitched in response to his tail swishing against the surface of the water. Rivulets of water streamed down his body, contouring to the dips and curves as he rinsed the suds away. So lost in following the water down his body, you almost hadn’t noticed Ojiro turning.

You rushed to hide your staring, ducking your head under the water. You took the time to calm yourself down, to fight the stirring in your stomach at how good Ojiro looked, before breaching the surface once more. Something that was ultimately worthless, as he stood in front of you, reaching out to you in worry.

"Sorry, I saw you slip, and I-" Ojiro's voice faltered as he finally took you in, body not at all concealed by the water around you, and lust blowing out your pupils. It seemed he had also forgotten how bare he was in front of you, the effects of your body on show for you to see. And see you did, eagerly drinking in every facet of his body. The confidence you had found earlier returned, urging you to stand. The cold air enveloped your upper body, sending goosebumps spreading across your arms and pebbling your nipples. Ojiro watched, enraptured by the reactions of your body, but came no closer.

He didn't mean to at least, but his tail almost seemed to have a mind of its own, slithering towards you. You accepted it with a brush of your hand, lewd thoughts running through your mind. You allowed his tail to trail down your thigh, the tip tickling your sensitive skin, before you slipped your leg around it. Now his tail lay between your knees, and you watched his face as it slowly trailed up your inner thigh. It seemed that this was all he was going to do as his tail pulled away, the red on his face no longer able to be brushed away as a result of the heat, but then he surged towards you. His hands lay on either side of your waist, effectively pinning you to the edge of the hot spring. His head dipped towards yours, a chaste peck placed on your lips. His eyes searched yours, unspoken questions dancing before he allowed his eyes to fall closed, returning to your lips in earnest. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him close enough to hook your legs over his lips.

The water was doing you no favors as he bucked against your heat, and Ojiro could tell too. He wasted no time lifting you out of the water and setting you to sit on the edge. He chased the water dripping down your neck with his tongue, dipping to lap the valley of your breasts. You pushed his hair back from his forehead to watch as he reached up to guide a nipple into his mouth. The warmth of his swirling tongue settled the chill, adding another layer of pleasure to the act. He dropped kisses along your chest as he made his way to the other, a hand trailing down your stomach to prod at your slit. Your legs opened quickly to allow him in, and he groaned against your breast as he dipped a finger into your slick.

He pulled away to watch your face as he dipped fingers into your cunt, easily stretching you out. You braced yourself on his shoulders, his free hand falling to the small of your back to bring you closer. Ojiro's patience was growing thin if you could judge by how he stole your breath with a kiss, his tongue tracing the seam before dipping in, molding his mouth fully to yours. The sensation of his tongue against yours and his fingers eagerly pressing into your dripping slit.

The water splashed around his hips as he rutted into the air, quickly pulling his fingers from you. You whined at the loss, eagerly pulling him closer with your legs. He took your suggestion early, adjusting himself to line up with you before plunging in mercilessly. The stretch burned, the water dripping from his cock not a decent lubricant, but it eased with every shallow thrust. You felt yourself grow wet around his length, easing the passage for the both of you, but it still wasn’t good enough. Ojiro’s hands gripped your thighs almost painfully, lifting you from the edge only to settle himself on it, plunging you down onto his lap.

You were finally full of him, wrapped so wholly around his length. The stone surrounding the sides of the hot spring bit into your knees, but you could hardly care as you rocked yourself on his length. Ojiro groaned, his face falling to place kisses and nips on the juncture of your neck. You were startled as you felt his tail wrap around your waist, the furry tip falling between your breasts. His muscular tail lifted you up, slamming you back onto his length with as much ease as breathing. Your legs fell limp, letting Ojiro use you as a glorified fuck toy. His hands tangled in your hair as he devoured the moans falling from your lips. With his tail fucking you onto his cock, his hands were free to position your legs as he wished, pulling them up to your chest. He was deeper now than anyone had been before, dragging the head repeatedly against a spot that made you writhe in his hold.

“Please.” He panted against your neck, “Please cum for me, please.” One of his hands drifted in between your bodies as he placed sloppy kisses on your shoulder. He looked almost in pain as he started to draw sloppy circles over your clit, the calloused fingers dragging you to the edge quickly. Your nails bit into his shoulders as you moved in earnest, pleas and moans falling from you like water from the springs.

The clench of you around his length only spurred him on further, forcing you harder on his cock and rocking your hips against yours before lifting you again. With the rough movement of his tail at your waist, the fingers circling your clit, and his desperate prayers to you, you came with a cry. Ojiro lost himself to your gasps of pleasure, driving himself quickly in and out of your heat until he spilled himself within you, tears pearling on his lashes.

He was careful with you as he placed you onto the rocks, looking you over for any spots he may have been too rough with you. You heard more than saw him move through the water, coming back to your side quickly. The rough texture of the torn towel in his hand was only slightly softened by the warm water as he took his time cleaning his spend from your legs, laying chaste pecks over every reddening mark on your hips. Ojiro cradled you like something precious before allowing both of you to sink back into the soothing water, enjoying the contrast between the crisp wind and your heated skin.

“So where are we off to next?” Ojiro murmured against your shoulder.

“We?” You turned to look at his face over your shoulder.

"If you'll have me, that is?" You flashed him a soft smile.

“I don’t think I’m quite ready to leave you behind.” His arms curled around you tighter.

“I’ll spend every day making sure you won’t want to.”

#ojiro x reader #ojiro mashirao x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #ojiro smut #bnharem collab #nyx writes

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crystalninjaphoenix · 3 years

Text

The Tower

A Stitched Story

JSE Fanfic

So given how this AU is *so close* to being finished, I’m gonna go a little off schedule for these last couple stories. Hence, this one being posted this week instead of next. Might we be able to finally get rid of those menacing strings in this entry? Well...not exactly. There seems to be a side effect. And before they can figure out a way around it, all hell breaks loose. Enjoy ;)

Tagging @septic-dr-schneep for inspiring this AU with this post.

Read where it started: Stitched Together | Season One | Season Two

Previous Season Three stories: Torn Apart | Tales to Tell | Threads | Twice Bitten, Never Shy | Two of Souls

Taglist (finally): @bupine @violet--majesty @ari-trash

“It’s going to be fine,” Chase muttered, bouncing nervously in place. “It’s allll going to be fine. It’s going to work out.”

Are you alright, Chase? JJ asked, giving him a look of concern. Do you not like elevators?

Chase laughed. “It’s not the elevator that worries me, it’s what’s waiting on the floor once we get there.” It was also the fact that Jackie was holding onto his arm tightly, head resting on his shoulder. Clingy as usual. But hopefully, that wouldn’t last long. Because right now, they were going to try to destroy the strings.

The magicians had proposed it the day before. They thought that using magical fire or electricity would be able to get rid of them for good. After a short talk, all the boys had agreed to try. Hopefully, once the strings were gone, Jackie and Marvin would...well, not go back to normal. They knew that was impossible now. But they’d be friendly, at least. In the best-case scenario.

The elevator dinged, and Chase and Jameson stepped out into a long hallway. This was the sanctuary’s very top floor, reserved for any magical testing that might go wrong. Apparently it was heavily protected. It didn’t look like much. Just like all the other halls, it seemed like something you’d find in a hotel. But then Chase noticed all the doors were made of metal. Ah.

Jack and Schneep were some ways down the hall, waiting outside a door, sitting on a bench against the opposite wall. The moment Jack saw Chase and JJ approaching with Jackie, he stood up and waved. “Hey!”

“Yeah, I see you, Jack.” Chase waved back. “Can’t miss you.” They quickly closed the distance. “Are things—ow!” He looked down. “Schneep did you just whap me with that thing?!”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Schneep twirled his white cane like a baton, causing everyone to back up. “I was just confirming you were here.”

“I—don’t you, like, sense souls or something?”

“Chase, please. I still cannot see you.”

JJ chuckled a little, the sound muffled. Is everything ready?

“Yeah, all the magicians are getting ready.” Jack pointed at the door, which was labelled ‘Dangerous Reaction Room 7.’ “When they’re ready, you and I are supposed to go in, while Schneep and Chase keep an eye on Jackie out here, to make sure nothing happens with him while we get rid of the, uh...S-T-R-I-N-G-S.”

“He can spell, Jack, he is not an idiot,” Schneep said.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think he’s listening,” Chase muttered. He tried to pull his arm away from Jackie’s grip, but he held on tighter, making Chase grit his teeth to ignore the uncomfortable closeness. “Do you two really need to go in the room? I mean, look at that sign. It says ‘dangerous’ on it.”

“Yeah, well, JJ’s shields will be really helpful,” Jack said. “But you’re right about me. They want me to tell them if anything happens with the soul bits that are part of the...well, you-know-whats. And I was like ‘Don’t you have instruments or something for that?’ and they were like ‘Yeah but we’re not going to risk something happening to them’ and I said ‘But you’re okay with something happening to me...a living person’ and they said ‘You’ll be fiiiiiine.’” Jack sighed. “Anyway, I’m not gonna argue. It’s too much effort. And anyway, I want to see those green bastards gone.”

Before the discussion could continue, a voice came through the door. “We’re ready!” Yvonne shouted. “Come on in!”

“Well, good luck, bro, both of you,” Chase said.

“Yes, break a leg,” Schneep added. “Or do not. Actually, please do not break anything.”

JJ gave another muffled giggle, and Jack smiled. “Thanks, guys. We’ll see you soon.” He reached over and pulled open the door, and the two of them disappeared into the room. When the door shut behind them, it briefly glowed with a yellow light, then returned to normal metal.

The room beyond the door was entirely bare, its walls, ceiling, and floor reinforced with metal. Waist-high metal walls made a circle in the center of the room. Griffin, Delyth, and Yvonne were all gathered around that circle, with Griffin holding a pair of boxes. In the center, the strings were lying in a bowl-like shape built into the floor. They were trying to wriggle up the sides, but were evidently having trouble grasping the slick metal, and kept falling back down. JJ gave Jack a look. This isn’t a very encouraging room.

“Yeah, I know, it’s like...I get this is for safety and all, but it just feels like things are about to blow up.” Jack closed the door behind him, sealing the room. “You guys just...have a place like this?”

“Yes, of course.” Griffin walked over to the two of them, taking something out of the first box and holding it out. “Here, please put on these goggles, in case of shrapnel.”

That is even less encouraging, JJ signed, but took the offered goggles and put them on. Jack did so as well. This whole thing felt less like getting ready to cast a spell and more like the start of a dangerous scientific experiment. One where things could explode.

Delyth was busy reading something on her phone, lips moving silently. “Are we uh...are we ready?” Jack asked.

“Sorry, just reviewing.” Delyth shut off her phone and put it away. “Fire and lightning aren’t my specialties; it’s been a while.”

“You sure you should be casting it, then?” Yvonne muttered.

“Yes, of course. I’m still a highly skilled agent, and if I must say so myself, probably the most powerful magician in the sanctuary at this moment.”

“Alright, alright, I get it. You want to continue with that horn-tooting, or should we get started?” Yvonne pulled her own goggles down over her eyes.

“I say we should start now,” Griffin said. “Eventually those strings are going to climb their way out of the target zone.”

The five of them gathered around the circle. Jameson, wary, half-held up his hands, weak circular shields flickering in between all of them and the strings, ready to snap into greater strength the moment they needed to. “Alright, I’m about to start casting,” Delyth announced. “We’ll start out with a slow burn, and hopefully that’ll be enough. If not, I’ll increase the severity until they’re gone. Ready?” Everyone nodded. “Good.”

Delyth reached forward, muttering a spell under her breath. Above the circle, directly over the strings, a small, pale purple fireball appeared. It started off the size of a golf ball, but as Delyth slowly lowered the gently burning flame into the circle, it grew to baseball size, then to about the size of a basketball. Below the heat, the strings started skittering frantically, like a cornered animal. They tried to climb the walls, but once again fell back.

When the ball of flame hit the bottom of the bowl, it burst, filling the entirety of the area in a liquid way. In the fire, the strings became panicked, twisting and tripping over themselves in any attempt to get away from the flames. They were unsuccessful. But apparently, so was the fire. The strings were not burning, though they certainly acted like they were. Jack closed his eye to look at the strings in his soul vision, but saw no change there, either.

“Nothing’s happening,” Yvonne said cautiously.

“Indeed.” Griffin nodded. “Delyth?”

“On it.” Delyth clenched her fist, and the flames filling the bowl disappeared. “These next spells are going to be a bit more...pyrotechnic.”

“Oh shit.” Yvonne took a few steps back. Jameson, agreeing with the sentiment, strengthened the shields just a bit.

Delyth raised her hand, then brought it down with a fierce shout of a spell word. A fireball slammed down into the bowl, exploding at the bottom with a loud bang! Purple flames licked at the sides of the walls, and the strings thrashed frantically, some of them clustering together. Delyth repeated the spell one, two, three more times, making everyone cover their ears. The fire inside grew, but the strings were still intact. Now starting to look frustrated, Delyth started chanting. Fireworks of hot purple magic exploded repeatedly in the bowl, causing ear-splitting snap! snap! snap!s every time they blew, giving off smoke.

But the strings were still there.

“Keep it up!” Griffin shouted over the noise. “It’s possible that we’re doing damage, just slowly!”

“Right!” Delyth took a deep breath, wiped her forehead, then raised her hand and sent another fireball down into the bowl, this one sending spears of fire into every direction. The bowl was now full of searing purple flames, yet the strings remained. And so, Delyth started another spell.

A bolt of purple lightning crashed into the bowl, adding yet more flames in addition to smaller branches of electricity that remained, crackling, connecting between the walls. And she did it again. And then sent more fireworks. And another fireball. And another electric spell.

Outside the room, Schneep and Chase remained sitting on the bench, Jackie now in between them. When the first bang! echoed from the room, the two of them jumped in unison. “What was that?” Schneep hissed.

“A spell, probably,” Chase said. “Uh...sounded like a big one. Do you think it worked?”

There was the second bang! Schneep flinched, then muttered, “Apparently not.”

“Right.” Chase looked down at his hands, twisting his fingers. “I guess we won’t know until they come out if it worked.”

“I suppose not.”

Chase sighed. He really, really hoped this worked. Maybe things wouldn’t go back to normal afterwards, but it would be better. Things would be...what was Jackie doing?

He paused in his hand-wringing to give this situation a better look. Jackie was rocking on the bench, forward and backwards, gripping the fabric of his pants in white-knuckled fists. Chase blinked, and stared. Jackie’s expression...it was pained. Every time one of the bang!s went off, he flinched, not out of surprise, but as if he’d been physically struck. “Uh...Jackie? Are you okay?”

Jackie didn’t respond. His mouth opened just a bit, letting out a small groan. Schneep stiffened, turning towards Chase. “Is everything okay?”

Chase didn’t get a chance to answer. “No,” Jackie whispered. “No, no, no, this—this isn’t okay.” He gasped as more loud noises came from the room, then suddenly doubled over, both hands shooting upward to press against his chest. “This—! This—! Isn’t okay!” He cried.

“Jackie!” Chase and Schneep shot to their feet in unison, Schneep backing up and holding his cane defensively, Chase standing in front of Jackie and crouching down again so he could be level with his face. “What’s wrong?!”

“Hurts. Hurts.” Jackie was shaking, all the color drained from his face. “It hurts! It hurts!” He lunged forward, grabbing Chase’s shirt and burying his face in it. “Make it stop!”

“I—I’m sorry, I can’t,” Chase said, at a loss for words. “I...Schneep, can you go—”

“No!” Jackie choked the word out from behind a sob. “Schneep, don’t leave.”

Both Chase and Schneep froze. That was...the first time Jackie had actually acknowledged any of them by name. Anyone other than Chase. “I...okay, I will not leave,” Schneep said slowly. “What should I do?”

“I don’t know,” Jackie shook his head. “I don’t know, I just—just stop it! Make it stop!”

“We—we can’t, Jackie.” Chase instinctively wrapped Jackie in a hug, holding him tight as he continued to rock back and forth, crying into Chase’s bandanna. “What’s wrong? What does it feel like?”

“I—I’m dying,” Jackie rasped. “I-I’m dying again. Chase, I don’t want to die again.” He let out another sob. “I—I’m being torn into pieces. Please, someone. Just stop this! Please!”

Schneep suddenly stepped up next to Chase. “Jackie, I am going to take your pulse, okay?” His voice was surprisingly gentle, and Jackie nodded, letting him press his fingers against the pulse in his neck. “Okay, okay. And your temperature. You need to back up a bit so I can feel your forehead.” Jackie did so, trembling a bit as Schneep put a hand on his forehead. “Scheiße,” Schneep hissed.

“Oh no, it’s in German, that’s not good,” Chase said. “What’s wrong?”

“He is burning up.” Schneep hurried over to the room’s door, hand trailing across the wall to find the doorknob. “And I think I mean that literally.” He grabbed the handle and turned it. Only to be met with resistance. Locked. His face drained of color. “Hey!” He started banging on the door. “Open it! Stop the whole thing, for god’s sake!”

“I’m going to die again,” Jackie said quietly, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. “No, no, I don’t want to die again. I don’t want to go to hell.”

“You weren’t in hell, Jackie,” Chase said, trying to sound reassuring. “A-and it’s going to be fine.”

“Hell,” Jackie insisted. “Hell hell hell. Awful things...happening. Bits of my brain swirling around. So...angry. So much hate. It ate at me. Us. There were two of us, a-and we were just one, and I wasn’t sure—who am I? Chase, who am I? Chase, I don’t know.”

“You’re Jackie,” Chase emphasized. “Jackie Parker. The guy who decided to be a superhero because you thought you needed to. The guy who offered to let Marvin move in after he decided to sell his house. The guy who would babysit Lily and Moira when Stacy and I were too busy. A good guy. That’s who you are.”

Jackie was quiet for a moment. And then, softly, he asked, “Are you sure?”

Before Chase could answer, a loud crashing noise came from the room beyond the door. Jackie screamed, and fell forward off the bench, only held up by Chase still holding him. “Stop stop stop stop stop stop!” He shrieked, writhing and seizing. His temperature continued to rise, and Chase could feel the heat radiating from his entire body, like standing near a fire that was getting increasingly larger.

“Scheiß drauf!” Schneep kicked at the door under the handle one more time, then dropped his cane and reached to the side, grabbing his scissors from out of nowhere. He made a downward slashing motion, suddenly causing a membrane of yellow magic to appear over the door. It lasted for only a second before Schneep cut through it, leaving it in tatters. Then Schneep stepped forward and disappeared, teleporting straight into the room.

There was a lightshow of lightning happening in the center of the room. Jameson had his shields raised against any possible threats, and everyone except Delyth had backed up to around the edges of the room. In contrast, Delyth was stubbornly staying her ground next to the circle, hurling spell after spell at the strings, voice starting to crack and rasp as she shouted the spell words.

“Stop it! Shut it all down!” Schneep yelled.

Delyth looked over at him. “I’m making progress!”

“That is the problem!” Schneep ran at her, hands outstretched, and managed to grab her arm before she sent it down to cast again. “Stop it!”

Delyth shook him off, readying herself for another spell. But before she could cast it, the blue shield in front of her suddenly slammed into her stomach, knocking her to the ground. Immediately, the lightning fizzled out, and any fire slowly died into pale purple embers that soon stopped glowing. Jameson lowered his hands, and glanced back at Delyth. Sorry, he signed, circling his fist on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked. “Why’d we have to stop?”

“Something is wrong with Jackie,” Schneep explained hurriedly. “I-I think we are hurting him.”

Jack’s eyes widened, and he ran out of the room. Jameson followed shortly thereafter, and then Schneep. The magicians stayed in the room. Yvonne walked over to help Delyth up, and Griffin approached the circle in the middle, taking the lid off the second box he was holding so he could put the strings inside.

While the magicians cleaned up, the boys gathered around Chase and Jackie. “What’s wrong?” Jack asked. “What’s happening?!”

Chase looked up at him, not answering. Jackie had calmed down considerably once the spellcasting had stopped, and was now shaking and gasping for air, face pale and hair damp with sweat. He continued to hold onto Chase, who luckily didn’t seem to mind as much as he might have in other circumstances. Glancing upward, his eyes darted around the people surrounding him. “...Jack?” he whispered. “Schneep?” Then he looked at JJ, and frowned, confused. “Who’re you?”

“I...” Jack was temporarily at a loss for words. With this spellcasting, they’d been fully prepared for Jackie to lose it and start fighting to get to the strings, but this? They hadn’t even considered this. He seemed...normal. “This is Jameson, Jackie. He, uh...he’s a friend. But he can’t talk.” JJ waved, looking understandably nervous.

“Are you okay, Jackie?” Schneep asked urgently. “How do you feel?”

“...bad,” Jackie said after a while.

Chase laughed a bit. There were tears in his eyes, but he wasn’t sure what emotion was causing them.

“Where am I...? H-how did I get here?” Jackie looked around some more. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand what’s happening.”

“It’s a long story, Jackie,” Jack said. “We need to know if you’re okay, that’s all you need to focus on for now.” He paused, then closed his eye to activate soul vision. Usually, he’d see a mess of red and blue light in Jackie’s chest when he did this, but this time it was...different. The red and blue were neatly separated out, forming a circle that was roughly three-quarters red and one-quarter blue. But it wasn’t going to stay that way. He could see the edges where the colors met starting to swirl and shift already. “I don’t think we have much time,” he said in a hushed voice.

“Jackie, what do you remember?” Schneep asked. “Can you tell us? Quickly?”

“I-I...that depends on what you mean by remember.” Jackie shut his eyes tight. “I...there was...it was horrible. I-I saw—there were these—horrible, horrible things. Awful things, ha-happening to people. You guys were there. But I don’t know. I-I don’t know if they were all real or just my thoughts. Maybe both, but I...” He bit back a sob. “...I don’t know which were which. And just...so much...hating. I was so...felt so...much...hate.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Chase murmured. “You’re going to be alright. We’ll make sure of it.”

“Jackie, I have a question,” Schneep said. “Do you remember...did you and Marvin do some sort of spell? In your apartment?”

“Spell...” Jackie’s eyes suddenly shot open. He reached up and grabbed something around his neck. That amulet. That broken amulet, one of the pair that Anti always wore. “That spell! That—I didn’t—I didn’t—I didn’t want—”

“What? Did you not want to do the spell?” Schneep asked.

Jackie shook his head. “I did, at first. But then—he lied to me—”

“Marvin?”

“Yes, he didn’t tell me everything, I—I didn’t want that, I tried to stop it—” He suddenly froze. “Oh my god.” Reaching up, he covered his mouth with a hand as tears started to swell in his eyes. “Oh my god, I killed him.”

“What?” Chase asked, shocked.

“It was an accident! I just wanted to stop it! We got in a fight, I-I had a knife, I—he wasn’t supposed to die! I didn’t want to kill him!” His breathing sped into hyperventilating as he started rocking back and forth. “It was an accident! I—if he didn’t move—if I’d just been more careful—he wasn’t supposed to die! I wasn’t supposed to kill him!” The last sentence was ripped from his throat in a scream, and Jackie doubled over, curling over his knees and covering his head with his arms.

“Jackie, Jackie, it’s fine, we believe you!” Chase bent over as well, trying to keep his head level with his. “It wasn’t your fault, and we know that. It’s fine. You’re going to be alright.” For a moment, Jackie was frozen in that position. “Hey, it’s okay.” Chase patted his back, and at that, Jackie moved, leaning into him. “It’s okay.”

“...Chase.” Jack’s voice was low and warning, but Chase didn’t hear him.

“It’s all over now,” Chase said reassuringly, giving Jackie a hug and straightening, pulling him into a kneeling position. After a moment, Jackie responded, wrapping his arms around him. “It’s alright. It’s...” Chase paused. “You’re uh...squeezing pretty tight there. Could you loosen up a bit, bro?” Jackie didn’t answer. In fact, he started to squeeze tighter. “Jackie, I—I really don’t like this.” Chase started to squirm. “Jackie?”

Jameson finally stepped in, quickly pulling Jackie away from Chase. He didn’t seem to mind much, eyes now looking a bit glazed. His head turned around absentmindedly, not really looking for anything. “Where are we?” He asked. “Where’s the rest of me? It’s close...we think.”

Chase quickly backed away, scrambling to his feet. Looking shaken, he walked all the way until his back was pressed against the hall wall. “What...what happened?” He asked quietly.

“It’s weird,” Jack said. “His soul...the two colors were separated, but they were starting to mix together again. Then he started talking about—about killing someone...and it all just snapped back to being all jumbled up.”

“Marvin,” Schneep muttered. “He was talking about how he accidentally killed Marvin. During the transference spell, it sounded like. They fought, and it...must have...” He turned around, burying his face in his hands. It was hard to imagine. And he didn’t want to imagine it at all.

“Yeah, that would cause some problems in the spell.”

The boys jumped in unison at the sound of the voice, and looked over to see the magicians had left the room. Yvonne, noticing them all staring at her, continued, “I mean, I don’t think it’s ever happened before. If it has, it was probably a long time ago. Long enough that all records of it are gone now. But I imagine the spell would want to keep going—black magic like that almost has a will and drive of its own—but without both of the participants, it couldn’t, so it just messed their souls up.”

“God...” Jack breathed.

That must have been terrible, JJ signed sadly.

“I imagine so,” Griffin said gravely. “But I’m afraid I must ask...do we want to continue with the spellcasting?” He held up the box. “We were actually making some headway there near the end.”

“Are you crazy?!” Chase, though still a bit rattled, was put together enough to whirl on the magicians. “We almost killed Jackie!”

“There was no guarantee that was going to happen,” Delyth said calmly. “The chance that he would have survived is equal to the chance that he would not have.”

“You know, I think he would not have,” Schneep stated flatly. “I may not be a doctor anymore, I may be blind, even, but I can still fucking recognize when someone is having a crisis.”

“And the point of this is to get rid of the strings, not Jackie and Marvin,” Chase added, folding his arms. “That is the last thing we want.”

“It might not have killed him,” Delyth repeated. “And besides, while these strings exist, they’re both a high threat—”

“Are you fucking insane?!” Jack shouted. “Are you asking us to kill our friends?!”

“No!” Delyth shook her head furiously. “Alright, what if we took this in short bursts? That took a lot of my magic, anyway. We’ve damaged them slightly, if we keep this up—”

There’s still a chance they’ll die once the strings are gone, JJ interrupted. I understand you’re concerned about what might happen, but this isn’t the way.

“Yeah, Mae, I knew you were strict, didn’t realize you were heartless,” Yvonne emphasized.

Delyth took a step back, shocked. “I didn’t mean—I...I’m sorry. I didn’t want to come off that way.”

“Don’t do it again,” Chase said in a surly tone.

“But what do we do now?” Jack asked quietly.

“That is not clear,” Schneep said. “But one thing is. We cannot destroy the strings.”

“Then...what can we do?” Chase whispered.

Nobody had an answer for that.

— — — — — — —

The sudden pain in his chest was fading. Still, he could only lie on the ground for a few moments, panting and shaking. What was that? Why had that suddenly happened?

...where was he?

Marvin sat up, looking around. This...looked like some random street. The buildings were tall but run-down, and there were no cars or pedestrians in sight. He must have collapsed right onto the sidewalk.

...how did he get here?

He reached up to his face, and felt a mask covering half of it. What? He pulled it off. This...looked like his mask, except snapped in half, with the white ceramic stained blue. Hadn’t he seen this? Or...had he just imagined it?

Attempting to stand up, Marvin winced, falling back down to a sitting position. His feet really hurt. He could remember walking...so much walking. For days, it seemed like. And his stomach was turning in on itself. He hadn’t eaten anything in...in...he couldn’t remember.

“Hello?” He called. “Is...is anyone there? Um...help?”

He tried to recall the last thing he remembered. And immediately regretted it, as all he could find were visions of people suffering, horrible, gruesome sights. Were those real? Or were they just thoughts he’d had? Shaking his head to physically ward off the images, he tried to remember something else. He had been...angry. Full of rage so hot it was like it was physically burning him. But everything was disconnected, broken, shattered. Held together by tenuous strings. His mind was in pieces. He’d been pulled apart.

Suddenly cold despite the sun overhead, Marvin wrapped his arms around himself, squeezing his eyes to hold in tears. “It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine,” he muttered. “It’s fine, it’s...” He let out a sob, and started rocking back and forth. That helped. Tapping his arm with his fist helped, too. What was happening? Why was it happening to him?

What...

He...

There...

Feel...

Marvin shook his head, climbing to his feet and holding the half-mask close to his chest. He was coming apart again. Bits of him were...they were...mixing up. Again. He couldn’t...think...

What else did he remember? What...we...I...you...? Us...? He didn’t feel...whole.

“No, no, no, no.” Jackie pressed a hand against his head. Jackie? No, he was Marvin. Or...was he someone other than both of those? No, he was Marvin. Marvin Marvin Marvin...

He didn’t feel whole. Why? Because...he was broken...?

His hand brushed against his neck. There were...stitches...strings...there. Stitches. Strings. Strings. Strings. Strings.

The rest of him. The rest of them.

He could feel it. He couldn’t feel it for a while there, but something had changed. Now he sensed where they were, clear as day, easy as following a sound.

Turning in that direction, he slid the mask back over his face, and smiled. Now he knew. Now he would be brought back together. He headed straight in that direction, any pain and discomfort instantly forgotten. He had to find the rest of him.

— — — — — — —

The whole group had quickly dispersed after aborting the spellcasting. Griffin and Delyth had disappeared to wherever they usually spent their time, Jack, JJ, and Chase had retreated to their rooms with Jackie in tow, and Schneep had gone down to the basement to do some more training. But not long after, he found he wasn’t in the mood. He just...kept thinking about what they were supposed to do next. Maybe if they put the strings somewhere else, somewhere far away? But where would even be far enough? Eventually, he left, taking the elevator back up.

The doors dinged open much sooner than he expected. That might have been surprising, if he hadn’t sensed the presence of someone on the other side. “Oh! Hey, it’s you.” Yvonne’s voice. “You mind? I can wait for the next lift.”

“No no, is fine.” Schneep stepped to the side, feeling her brush past him.

“Thanks.” The elevator doors shut, and he heard the sound of Yvonne pressing a button.

“We are on the same floor, yes?” He asked. “Are you not going to your room?”

“What? No, I am, I just pressed it again. Y’know...cause I wanted to press the button.” Yvonne giggled a bit. “Huh. Didn’t realize that could be confusing if you couldn’t see what was happening.”

“I did not either, until just now.” It had been months since he returned to the waking world with his sight missing, and he was still learning new things.

“Hey, actually, can I ask you a question?” Yvonne said.

“Go ahead.”

“How’d you manage to get through the protective spell around the reaction room? That’s supposed to prevent anyone from barging in and interrupting everything, but you just teleported right in.”

Schneep frowned. “Well, I just...when the door would not open, I thought there must have been some sort of magic protection. And I was right. So I...I did not think about it too much, actually, I just grabbed my scissors and cut right through, then jumped inside.”

“Huh.” Yvonne paused. “Are these scissors of yours...magic?”

“I am not sure, actually.” Schneep reached forward and grabbed them, pulling them out of a pocket in thin air. “They seem very normal to me, what about you?” He snipped them a few times for emphasis.

“Yeah, they look pretty normal.” Yvonne paused. “In uder’m magima,” she muttered. There was a cool breeze, and then she said, “Nope, I couldn’t pick anything up. They’re just regular-ass scissors. Guess that must be part of your magic, then. To cut straight through wards? Hey, do you mind if I call you some time? We can go on a trip to some of the most protected ABIM storages.”

“Ha ha,” Schneep said. “I suppose that—” He suddenly stopped.

“What? Something wrong?”

“We stopped moving,” he said. “But the doors are not opening.”

“...oh. I hadn’t noticed. That’s—oh my god!”

“What?!”

“The lights went out,” Yvonne said in a hushed voice. “Is there a power outage? That...shouldn’t happen.”

“Why? Are the lights magic?”

“No, but I don’t think sanctuaries would be prone to blackouts.” She banged on the elevator doors, then pressed several different buttons. “Ugh. This is taking too long. Can you teleport us out?”

Schneep raised an eyebrow. “I could, technically. But I should warn you first, teleportation is not a pleasant experience.”

“Hey, I’ve tried it...once. Twice. Anyway, it was fine for me then.”

“You cannot do it again?”

“Nah, can’t remember the spell.” He could practically hear Yvonne shrugging.

Schneep sighed. “Alright. I will do all the work, then.” He held out a hand, and Yvonne quickly grabbed it. Making sure he had a firm grip on her, he thought about where to jump. He had no idea where they were in the building, and he could only really imagine the basement, his room, and the ground floor. That last one would probably be the most convenient. They could just take the stairs. Debatably, his room would also be helpful, but he didn’t want to bring someone into there without asking Jack if he could, since they shared the space. “And going now.” So he jumped.

Instantly, they were back on the ground floor. And instantly, Yvonne yanked her hand away. “H-holy shit,” she breathed. “Holy—” She stumbled away, bracing herself against the wall and taking several deep breaths. “You weren’t kidding.”

“I did warn you,” Schneep pointed out.

“That is not normal teleportation. I don’t know what you’re doing, but it’s not normal.” Yvonne paused. “Wait...do you hear that?”

They both fell silent. Some ways away, there was the sound of crashing and shouting...some sort of fight. In unison, they ran towards the sound.

Rounding a corner, they ran right into a magical battlefield. The ground was broken up, with purple crystals protruding from the floor and stabbing the air. The wallpaper was singed with purple flames, and a couple of the doors had been knocked off their hinges. The moment Schneep rounded the corner, he ran into a long, blue string, which immediately wrapped around his torso and pulled him down with a yelp.

“You two!” Delyth was holding her own against her opponent, eyes glowing pale purple. “What are you doing here?!”

“Mae!” Yvonne gasped. “What—”

“It’s Marvin,” Schneep said through gritted teeth. “Isn’t it?”

“Maaarvin?” That voice identified him shortly before he came into sight, stepping out of one of the rooms with broken doors. His broken mask was firmly on his face, set above a wild grin. “Is that who we are?” Blue strings of magic danced in the air around him.

“Oh fuck.” Yvonne took a step back, raising her hands instinctively. On the ground beside her, Schneep was struggling with his scissors and the thread entangling him.

“Get out of here!” Delyth demanded, thrusting her hand forward to conjure a purple crystalline shield, deflecting the wave of blue strings that flew at her. “I’ll take care of this!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mae, you’re running out of juice!” Yvonne protested. “Look at how faint that shield is!”

“You need to get to the strings! That’s what he’s—” She was cut off as one of the strings wormed its way under the shield and wrapped around her ankles, yanking her upwards.

“Mae!” Yvonne reacted instinctively, hurling a ball of pale blue magic at Marvin, knocking him to the ground and making him drop Delyth. “Oh, sorry!”

Marvin got to his feet, swaying for a moment. He glanced upwards towards the ceiling, and grinned even wider. “We’re really close,” he muttered. A ball of wriggling blue thread spawned in his hand, and he threw it upwards. Once it hit the ceiling, the strings spread out in a fan, digging into the plaster and causing white dust to fall down onto Marvin below.

“Oh no you don’t!” Yvonne swung her hand, sending a wave of magic at the strings and knocking them to the ground. Frowning, Marvin turned his attention to her. More strings appeared in the air, slithering in a way that seemed distinctly hostile.

Schneep finally managed to cut through the string wrapping him up, and he scrambled to his feet. “I can make sure the strings are secure,” he said. “You two hold him back.”

“Got it.” Yvonne raised a shield, then reached down and helped pull Delyth to her feet. “We can handle this.”

Schneep nodded, and jumped away, just before Marvin lunged forward at the two magicians.

His jump took him to the floor directly above him, though he fell a few inches onto the floor. Not bad, for being entirely unsure where he was going. But it sounded like he hadn’t escaped the chaos on this floor, either.

“Got him!” The scene he’d stepped into had Jack, Chase, and JJ struggling with Jackie. Jack had managed to grab Jackie, wrapping his arms around him in an effort to hold him back from...going somewhere. “Guys, can you—”

“Let go!” Jackie twisted around, and suddenly there was a flash of red light. Jack cried out and staggered backwards, suddenly bleeding from a cut across his cheek. Immediately, Jackie started to run again, only to run into a wall of blue light as Jameson created several shields around him, trapping him in.

“What is going on?!” Schneep asked.

“Oh Schneep! Jackie just went crazy all of a sudden.” Chase hurried over to Schneep’s side. “It was weird, he was talking about ��the rest of him’ again.”

“The rest of me!” Jackie whaled. He started pounding on the shields—no, not pounding on them, stabbing them. With bits of red light, long and sharp and almost shaped like a knife. “I need to get to them! I need to—”

Jameson flinched, and one of the shields abruptly shattered. Jackie wasted no time, dashing forward, right past Schneep and Chase, and running up to a closed door. With another flash of red magic, the door was cut right in half, wood folding to the ground, and Jackie disappeared inside.

“No!” Jack cried. He and the other three hurried forward, into a dimly-lit room filled with coppery boxes. Jackie was quickly knocking them aside, until he found one the size of a shoebox. Grinning maniacally, he pried at the lid, but it wouldn’t open. “Stop him!” Jack shouted.

Chase dived forward, tackling Jackie to the ground. He shrieked, but managed to keep hold of the shoebox. “No!” Jackie yelled.

“Give me that!” Chase reached for the shoebox, but Jackie held it away from him. Of course, the other three quickly stepped in to help, with Schneep managing to grab the box, Jack prying at Jackie’s hands, and Chase and JJ holding him down. Jackie shouted, struggling and twisting, and soon the whole situation devolved into a wrestling match on the floor of the room. It only lasted for a few minutes before one wrong kick knocked down a nearby stack of boxes, which came crashing down onto the four of them, momentarily stunning them all.

Unfortunately, Jackie recovered the quickest. He pried the box away from the others and scrambled backwards. “You don’t understand,” he hissed. “We need it. We need to be whole. And we will have it! We will—!” Suddenly, he stopped. And looked down. And then, out of nowhere, he laughed. Raising one hand, sharp blades of red light appeared in the air.

Jameson immediately tried to shield the others, but it turned out, that wasn’t what Jackie was planning. The blades plunged downward into the floor around him in a neat circle, slicing right through. And then the floor gave way, and Jackie fell through the new hole onto the floor below.

In the room beneath, Marvin had been locked in a fight with Yvonne and Delyth. Well, mostly Yvonne, as Delyth’s magic was quickly draining. Shades of blue magic traded blows, blasts pushing back strings and strings wriggling through shields. Then the ceiling was cut through, and Jackie landed on the floor behind Marvin, who immediately froze and spun around. His face split into a wide grin.

“Bell, they have the container!” Delyth shouted, pointing at the coppery box in Jackie’s arms.

“On it!” A pale blue wall sprang up in between Jackie and Marvin, stopping Marvin just before he was able to pull Jackie to his feet. “Now what?”

Jackie got to his feet, looking at the wall of magic. And he laughed. He raised one hand and swiftly brought it down, cutting through the air. An arc of red light ran right into the blue wall...and it instantly shattered. Yvonne gasped, stumbling back. A trail of blood started to leak from her nose.

Marvin grabbed Jackie by the hand, and they both smiled the exact same smile. Then he spun around and sent a wave of blue strings at the magicians. Delyth tried to conjure another shield, but it was much too weak, and the strings cut right through and pinned both of the magicians to the walls.

“No!”

Something flashed in the faint light, and Marvin cried out, stumbling back. He’d been stabbed. A pair of scissors was sticking out of the back of his shoulder.

Schneep had dropped through the hole Jackie had made. Now, he stood behind Jackie and Marvin, expression twisted with anger and his eyes glowing turquoise light. There was a second pair of scissors in his hand, and he lunged. Marvin sent out another wave of strings, but Schneep disappeared, reappearing on the other side. Jackie whirled around and grabbed his wrist, preventing him from using the scissors he was holding. Except that now Schneep had a third pair in his other hand, which he opened wide and slashed, hitting Jackie’s other arm, the one holding the coppery box. Jackie yelped, and dropped it, only for the box to be caught in a net of blue strings and pulled over to Marvin, who picked it up.

Jackie and Marvin looked at each other. “Getting out,” they said in unison.

Marvin sent a few more strings Schneep’s way, who disappeared and reappeared behind the pair. But shortly after doing so, Jackie made a slashing motion, and an arc of red light hit Schneep in the chest. He cried out, falling backwards from the force of it. The moment he hit the floor, Jackie and Marvin grabbed each other’s hands and ran, right out the room and down the hall.

“They’re heading to the front!” Delyth shouted.

Jack, Chase, and Jameson, hearing the shout, ran for the front entrance, though it was far away. Schneep climbed to his feet and jumped, beating them there. But it was too late. By the time the group arrived there, Jackie and Marvin were nowhere in sight.

For a moment, all they could do was stand there, staring at the empty lobby in shock. Then Chase fell to his knees, Jameson collapsed on the nearest chair, and Schneep dropped his scissors. “They got away...” Jack breathed. “They...we have to go after them.”

Schneep nodded. “Yes. We have to, now.” He buttoned up his coat. “We cannot waste any time. Jameson, could you track them?”

“Wh...am I super out of it, or did you not have a coat just a minute ago?” Chase asked. “Where’d you get that?”

“I, ah...don’t...know.” Schneep blinked, running his hands over the black coat he was wearing. “But I recognize this feel. It is my black one, yes?”

“Yeah, but...how’d you get it?”

“And I’d like to know how you got like two other pairs of scissors.” Yvonne and Delyth appeared in the lobby entrance, both breathing hard from running and still with blue string wrapped around their limbs. “Like...seriously, where did those come from?” Yvonne tried for a laugh. It failed.

“Look, I think we have more important things to think about,” Schneep said irritably. “Jamie, can you track them?”

Jameson nodded. “He said yes,” Jack told Schneep.

“Good. We have to do it now, or—”

“Whoa, no way any of you are going out there now,” Delyth interrupted.

“What?!” Chase got to his feet and whirled on her. “Did you see how fast they broke in here?! Do you want to know what the two of them could do with those strings?!”

“It’ll probably take them a while to get the container open,” Delyth said calmly. “It’s designed to be unable to open without the proper authorization. Right now, we can’t just go barging in there, we have to have a plan.”

“Barging in there is a plan,” Jack protested. “We can’t let—”

“No.” Delyth’s voice was firm, unshakable. “Somehow, Marvin got right through our wards. Facing an opponent like that—two opponents like that without a plan? I can think of little more foolhardy.”

“I’ll tell you what’s more foolhardy,” Chase said coldly. “Letting those two have time to open the box, get together, and form Anti again.” He laughed hysterically, grabbing his hair and pulling at it. “That’s what they want to do! You’ve heard them! They’re all ‘we need to be whole,’ and ‘whole’ is Anti! That motherfucker! We can’t—can’t let that happen! We just got rid of him! We were going to fix everything!”

Delyth, please, Jameson signed. I understand your caution. It will be dangerous. But time is of the essence. We need to go NOW if we want to have any chance to prevent this. Chase pointed out how easily and swiftly they broke in and found those strings, they won’t have trouble with the box they’re in.

Jack translated all this, and added, “Plus, you haven’t seen Anti like we have. We...we still haven’t told you everything he’s done.” He swallowed nervously, eyes shadowed for one moment. “There were things that were just too...too hard to talk about. A-and he might have a grudge against you, too, if he reforms. We can’t let...any...anything ha-happen.”

Delyth looked thoughtful for a moment. But then she shook her head. “We can’t risk it. Besides, we have to look at the wards. Figure out why Marvin attacked now.”

“It has to do with us trying to destroy the strings, I am sure,” Schneep mumbled.

“If this Anti reforms, we can protect you—”

“That is not the point!” Chase shrieked. “We had to go through hell to get Jackie and Marvin separate again! We might not be able to do it a second time! We have to go now!”

“Mae,” Yvonne said softly. “I think you’re right.”

“You do?” Delyth said, clearly surprised.

“I mean, yeah, we’re not in any shape to fight right now. Especially you and me.” Yvonne touched her bloody nose. “I think we should go get cleaned up in the clinic. These guys can rest in their rooms. Once we’re all good, we can discuss what to do next.” She looked over at the four others, making significant eye contact with all of them. “In fact, we should go now. It’s on this floor. And you guys should definitely go upstairs while we do this. We might be a while.”

Delyth sighed, thankfully not catching on. “Alright. Let’s go. I know you four are anxious, so we’ll be quick, we promise.”

The boys were silent, but they all nodded in unison as the two magicians retreated back into the halls. They remained silent as they listened to the retreating footsteps until they could no longer be heard.

Schneep whirled around. “Jamie? You really can track them?”

Yes, definitely, Jameson said. I’ve been practicing while in this hotel, finding random things. He held his hand out, eyes scrunching up in concentration. A spinning blue disc formed on the tips of his fingers.

“Should we get weapons?” Jack asked.

“I’d like my gun,” Chase said.

“One moment.” Schneep reached to the side, hand disappearing into a pocket. When he pulled it back out, he held Chase’s gun. “Here you are.” He tossed it in Chase’s general direction.

“Whoa!” Chase leaned heavily to the side in order to catch it. “Your aim’s still as bad as ever, I see.”

Schneep chuckled. “Jack? Do you need anything?”

“Um...no, not now. Maybe I’ll reconsider later.” Jack looked over at Jameson. “Alright, let it go, JJ.”

Nodding, Jameson flung out his arm like he was throwing a frisbee. The tracking disc spun off, disappearing quickly through the front entrance. The four of them ran after it, with not a single ounce of hesitation between them all.

No more waiting. They needed to finish this now.

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