#{ behold i am making my words in your mouth fire and this people wood and it will consume them | t h r e a d s | uriel black }

[hclyxghcst-archived]

{ @brxkensovls ♡’d for a wine drunk starter! }

He’s already drunk enough to be flushed by the time he gets Aaron’s text, stranded at Evan’s house in the middle of the afternoon, back flat on her couch and contemplating his own hunger but too intoxicated to move or be bothered to move. The Simpsons on her TV but too low to be heard above the music, he can’t help but grin at his phone when Aaron’s name flashes across the screen. It’s the same words as always - “Hey man, I’m dry again - what’ve you got?” - but by now he knows that it carries more than just a request for drugs, holds the promise of danger, possibility, night - all manner of conditions for thoughtless nocturnal ruin. She laughs at the sight of him, head hitting the couch as she exhales and ask him which girl has him wrapped around her finger now; he just shrugs as if it doesn’t matter because it matters more than he can say.

He knows Aaron’s text is referring to weed, both because he always is and because he referred to himself as dry - still, Uriel’s mind sparks with bad ideas, and he’s just gone enough to let them catch, wander. By the time he finds himself on Aaron’s porch, he’s well past notions of self-control and preservation, lips wine-dark and his neck covered in someone else’s bruises as he bites his lip at the sight of the other, desire on full display in broad daylight like some kind of animal. He shifts slightly and feels the crunch of a hundred little tabs printed with rainbow-colored wings in his backpack, longs to place them on his tongue and make he and Aaron children again. So maybe the drugs have changed him, or maybe he’s too old now to care; all he knows is that he cannot know Aaron until he knows him in the garden acid makes of the mind.

He wants to find a way to say all this and more, or at least something close. 

Instead all that makes it out is, “Hey. Wanna do acid?”

[yoonpobs]

who's the boss | jhs

pairing: jung hoseok x oc

genre: fluff, slight enemies to lovers, boss!hobi, pa!oc

warnings: like one moment of suggestive content, confessing but no real confessions, jimin is your annoying best friend

words: 4, 663

summary: valentine's day with your stupid (hot) boss

“You look miserable.”

Jimin snickers when he walks past your slouched body across your desk, ensuring that you saw the mocking look he gives you when you glare at him.

“Please tell our boss that.” You mutter under your breath, attempting to avoid the mountains of work that sat in front of you.

“You’re his assistant—you out of all people should know that he’s a force to be reckoned with.” Jimin points out, slamming a new pile of folders on your desk.

You gape at him, observing the unforgiving amount of work that now occupies both your desk and time; and Jimin only offers you a half-hearted shrug before patting you on the shoulder.

“Mr Jung wants it by tonight,” Jimin lets you know as he begins to walk off.

The deadline has you snapping your head rapidly to his retreating figure as you quickly stand up to call for him.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” You exasperate, “Jimin—there’s no way I can get this done by tonight let alone this week!”

Jimin doesn’t even turn around when he shrugs, as if to tell you that it was your problem to deal with.

You growl, helplessly staring at the work that scatters your desk before your eyes narrow to the office next to yours, doors shut tight.

Before you can think twice, blinded by pure anger, you storm towards the secluded room; ignoring the stares from your co-workers, and a few sighs that you can tell is coming from Jungkook knowing that you were going to piss your boss off yet again.

You don’t knock, long past that level of formality with your boss as you slam the door open, eyes narrowed intimidatingly at the unsuspecting victim of your rage, who just looks up from his laptop with a raised brow.

“____, are you already done with—”

“Jung Hoseok.” You hiss, interrupting him as you shut the door behind you, rolling up your sleeves as if that would intimidate the man; fully aware that he towered over you, even in heels.

He slowly brings his laptop to a semi-closed position and leans back into his seat, arms carefully folded across his chest in a way that makes him look intimidating yet commanding.

It was a pity that your boss was such a douche because he was truly one of the most beautiful men that you’ve had the pleasure (or displeasure) of meeting in your entire life. Hoseok had the charm of a man that held himself with confidence and assurance, knowing that he was likely the hotshot of every room he walked into.

However, that also meant that he had a justifiable inflated ego that you were on the receiving end off, purely because you were hired as his personal assistant and not some other poor soul.

“That is my name, yes.”

You stomp towards his desk and slam your hands down onto the expensive wood, making sure your eyes are locked onto his stoic expression.

Momentarily, you see his eyes glance down to your chest where a decent amount of cleavage is likely being displayed to your boss, but it goes as quickly as it comes when he returns his gaze onto your blazing one.

“Are you fucking crazy?” You snap.

He blinks at you, hands clutched together as he leans forward on his elbows, face getting impossibly closer to your own that you have half the mind to put some distance between the two of you to preserve the beating of your heart.

“Is that any way to speak to your boss?” He cocks his head to a side, a teasing smirk dawning on his face.

“Cut the shit,” You hiss, “In what goddamn universe did you think it was justifiable for you to give me a month’s worth of work and expect it to be done by tonight?!”

He sighs, leaning back into his chair and man spreads in a way that you usually would hate, but of course, Hoseok made it look undeniably hot, and inviting.

“Didn’t I hire you because of your work ethic?”

You scoff in disbelief, arms folding across your chest.

“This is not about work ethic, and you know it. You have some secret vendetta against me and I see through your shit.” You accuse.

“Do I, Ms ____?” He says in a voice so low that it makes you stutter in your response.

“You tell me, Mr Jung.” You retort.

He observes your expression for a moment, taking in the way that you were breathing heavily and how your cheeks were a little flushed from your rant. Hoseok smirks at you because even though you were a lot to deal with, and had a tongue sharper than anyone he’s known, you were adorable.

Just like a kitten that was waiting to be tamed.

“Very well then,” He claps his hands together and opens his laptop again.

You raise an eyebrow, waiting for his next set of words. You recognise the slight gleam in your eyes and that causes an unsettling feeling to develop in your stomach.

“Work overtime.” He says simply as if it was the most obvious solution.

You gape at him, baffled at his blunt suggestion.

“What? That’s your solution? To work overtime?” You snap.

“I don’t see a better option knocking at our door’s here.” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

You grit your jaw and feel your eye twitch at his indifference, and you think about risking getting reported to HR, or even getting fired just so you could reach over and strangle the hell out of your insufferable boss.

“Give me an extension.” You all but demand.

“No.”

You’re about to leave with your dues until he answers you, and you snap your head to look at him incredulously.

“What do you mean no?” You hiss.

“It’s exactly what it means, Ms ____. I want the documents sorted through and filed by tonight. Even I’m working overtime and I’m the boss.” He smirks, eyes still not straying away from his laptop.

“Hoseok you don’t understand. I can’t.” His name slips out involuntarily, and you almost miss the way a smile teases his lips when you opt for his actual name than the nicknames you’ve resorted to.

“Oh? Did you have plans tonight?” He pries, eyes twinkling with mischief.

He knew. He knew what today was and gave you a shit ton of work.

You clench your jaw and give him a curt nod.

“Yes. I do.”

He hums under his breath, glancing down to type something onto his laptop before shutting it completely.

“Well—cancel them. You have plans with me now.” He says.

You choke on your spit at his calm declaration as you splutter to find a response.

“I can’t just cancel a date—!”

You snap your mouth shut when his eyebrows shoot to his hairline in a mischievous manner as if seeing you flustered was his favourite sight to behold.

“As your boss, I think I call the shots here, don’t I?” He pushes himself off his chair to walk towards you, height and presence imposing on your retreating figure.

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” You spit when he engulfs your space with his presence.

The navy grey suit he chose to wear today flattered his physique wonderfully, showcasing his lean and long limbs as well as his built. It didn’t help that he styled his hair with it parted by the side, his forehead on full display—as if to mark his territory as the most intimidating (and handsome) person at the office.

“Call me what you wish,” He shrugs, a smirk on his face, “We’ll have a lot of fun tonight, won’t we?”

You’d be lying if you didn’t have butterflies in your stomach.

.

“Mina—tell the blind date you set me up on that I can’t make it tonight,” You sigh, phone between your shoulder and your ear as you type away at your computer.

You hear Mina whine on the other end about how she thought the guy she set you up with was a perfect match for you. Truthfully, you didn’t even want to go on the date in the first place; but Mina said that you needed to get over the hots you felt for your boss even if he was the most infuriating person in every room he’s in.

“You’re not lying to get out of this, right? Do you really need to work overtime?” She whines.

You sigh.

“Do you remember who I work for? Of course I need to work overtime.” You mutter.

“How am I going to tell Jae?” She complains, and you briefly hear a thud on her end; probably signalling the fact that she flopped onto a surface in despair.

You snort and narrow your eyes to get a better view of the details on your spreadsheet, ensuring all facts and figures were aligned before saving it and proceeding to the next set of work you needed to finish.

“You’ll find a way,” You tell her, “I need to go. I have ten more documents to sort through and they’re all due tonight.”

Mina blows a virtual kiss for you and bids you goodbye, saying to kick your boss in the ass for her.

The moment you hang up, you see Jimin and Jungkook walk pass your desk with their bags over their shoulders, stopping by you to offer a sympathetic smile.

“Have fun working overtime ____,” Jungkook says, and it’s sincere enough to make you give him a half-hearted smile.

“Work on sucking your boss’ dick too.” Jimin snickers, mimicking the action inside of his cheek as you glare at him, chuckling a piece of crumpled paper in his direction.

“Jungkook—tell Taehyung I said hi,” You smile sweetly at him, then narrowing your eyes into slits at Jimin, “Jimin, I hope you puke out all the chocolates you’re going to binge on tonight.”

He gasps, hands resting on his chest in mock offence as he waves you goodbye, heading out as you return the gesture with your longest finger.

There the last bit of your co-workers that left the office, and now it was just you—and Hoseok—but he was cooped up in his office, for whatever reason it may be.

You sigh, cracking your knuckles forward as you attempt to race through all the documents that needed to be sorted through as fast as you can so you could go home and binge-watch all the romantic comedies in your watchlist.

The quote time flies sits prettily on the tip of your tongue when you glance at the clock on your table to tell you that it was half an hour till midnight, meaning that you slaved away to work for an additional 6 hours.

You huff, at least thankful that you were finally done.

Even with Hoseok’s words saying that he’d work overtime as well, you were sure he was just in his office relaxing while you did his hefty work. The thought makes you frown as you clean up your workspace, ensuring that it’s in a pristine condition before you head back.

“_____?”

Hoseok’s voice peeks out from his office and you stop your ministrations to turn your head to look at him, a few stray strands of hair falling by the side of your face as you do so.

Hoseok can’t help but appreciate how relaxed you look, a juxtaposition from the usual prim and proper persona you took on during work. Your hair was tied in a messy bun, and a few buttons of your blouse were undone to give yourself some room to breathe.

“Yes?” You raise an eyebrow, beginning to get irritated with the way his eyes unabashedly observe you.

You have the words on your tongue already, preparing to cuss him out with your mouth and your fist if he gave you any more work to do.

“Have you eaten yet?” He asks.

You raise an eyebrow, watching his figure lean against the frame of the door.

“No, I haven’t. I was too busy finishing up the documents for you, remember?” You bite, can’t be helping the snark that your tongue releases.

A small twinge of a grin appears on his face as he cocks his head to his office, gesturing you to enter.

“I have some food. Do, join me.” He asks.

You blink at him, hands still clutching the last bit of your belongings as you mull over his proposition. While you and Hoseok worked close and hand in hand in business operations, you managed to have professional boundaries with him (which didn’t include the fact you cussed him out every five minutes). So, for him, the poster image of uptight and professionalism; with the occasional blunder, to invite you for a small meal outside of business?

You try to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster.

“Ah … it’s fine—I’ll probably heat some leftovers up—” You shake your head to deny.

But as you were caught up in a daze, Hoseok had seemed to have made his way to your desk, body positioned in a way that locks you in so that you had no other way to escape.

“Nonsense.” He tuts, grinning at you with his award-winning smile and you find it very hard to find him distasteful when he has the ability to reduce you to mush.

You notice that he mirrors your appearance in the sense that he looks far more casual than he usually does during work hours. He’s abandoned his blazer, and all he’s left in is his dress-shirt that does absolutely nothing in hiding his figure and slacks that just accentuates his waist even more. The fact that he also has his sleeves rolled up makes you more flustered than you’d like.

“It’s late—” You try to make an excuse, but he’s tugging you by your wrist to follow him and you have no objection on your tongue when you’re in his office.

Somehow, you've been in the room a million times, the second person that spends the most time in here besides Hoseok himself, yet tonight feels different.

The context of sharing a small meal with him seems almost illegal as if you were committing a crime.

“When did you even order this?” You mutter, when you realise his desk was already cleaned of all work-related stuff and only left with the brown packaged bags of food.

“Of course you didn’t notice,” He teases, gesturing for you to take a seat on the chair next to him.

You roll your eyes, bowing your head slightly to thank him when he passes you a sandwich, and you’re pleasantly surprised to know that it was your favourite order from a place you frequented during your lunch breaks.

“How did you—?”

“I’m not that much of an asshole to not know your likes and dislikes ____.” He jokes.

You purse your lips, flustered because while you and Hoseok bantered back and forth, and you were definitely tougher on your own boss than you were to your colleagues, you knew deep down it was an act of self-preservation to convince your own heart that keeping him away was safer for you.

“I didn't mean it like that …” You mumble, munching on your food.

Your eyes are too focused on the sandwich that you miss the fond expression Hoseok gives you, opting to just observe small bites that you were taking.

Eventually, you do notice that Hoseok isn’t eating but paying full attention to you, chin resting on his palm as he blatantly stares at you. When your eyes look up to meet his own, you flush and look away immediately, ears burning red under the dim light as you attempt to cover it up with a cough.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

He shrugs.

“I had my dinner hours ago. This is for you.” He gestures to the food, “You know I despise these things. They’re so pretentious.”

You gape at him with an open mouth.

“Then why are you still—” It seems like Hoseok is dead-set on not allowing you to finish most of your sentences tonight when he responds before you can finish.

“I was waiting for you.” The confession knocks the wind out of your chest as you look at him with wide eyes, heart beating faster when he nonchalantly admits that he was cooped up in his office��waiting for you?

“You didn’t have to do that Hoseok …” You mumble, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear bashfully—a habit you only do when you’re embarrassed.

He snorts.

“A thank you would be nice, sweets.” He leans forward, face inches closer to yours as you yelp and leans back into your chair.

The term of endearment doesn’t fall deaf on your ears as you blush even harder. You want to curse at yourself because you’re much stronger than this, you’ve trained for years to not let your feelings show in front of Hoseok because well … he was the CEO and you were his personal assistant.

While there was no strict ban on dating your boss, you had ethics and principles of your own that somehow convinced you that it would’ve been messy. And messy it would be because you worked with him on every single project, communicated information to him and basically was his confidant—purely transactional—so you wouldn’t risk your career just to be with him.

Especially when you didn’t know if he felt the same way.

Even when he looks at you like that.

“I’m waiting …” He sing-songs, grinning at you.

You roll your eyes, looking away when you mumble:

“Thank you.”

He seems satisfied as he leans back into his chair, gesturing you to finish your meal.

The sandwich was delicious, as always, but once you took the last bite you were starting to wonder if Hoseok had really just waited hours, and now to just have you eat in front of him.

“Thank you for the meal, Hoseok.” You say politely.

He eyes you for a second, until his eyes glance to the side of your head—then back at you.

“It’s five minutes before midnight.” He points out.

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“… okay?”

“So … aren’t you going to wish me?” He pries.

The cue falls over your head, until you see and feel Hoseok, cage you in your chair.

You let out an eep at the sudden proximity, flushed at the way Hoseok grins at you all suave-like.

“Wish you?” You squeak, “W-What do you mean?”

He sighs, resting his palms on the side of your chair, looking at you with a fond expression that you were sure your eyes were deceiving you with.

“I dunno. Isn’t today a special day?” He teases, and he revels in the fact that you’re turning into a tomato under his scrutiny.

“I-Is it? I didn’t—I didn’t know that …” You gulp.

Hoseok takes the leap of faith and reaches out to pat your head, as you freeze under the touch.

“There were flyaways.” He smirks.

You feel like dying because of how close he is to you, and you know that he won’t let you go unless you say the words he’s tried to pull out from you. So, you swallow your pride, and honestly, gather all the courage you have in you to wish him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Hoseok.” You mumble, eyes avoiding his.

He doesn’t do anything for a split second, and you feel like a fool. You’re about to push him away until he moves—shuffling between his drawers to pull out—

“Flowers?” You cock your head to the side when he hands them over to you.

They were a beautiful arrangement, meticulously curated with the hands of someone that wanted perfection. It was very like Hoseok, but also included all of your favourite flowers and colours that you can’t help but imagine how cohesive the two of you would be.

You try to shake out of your delusions because you’re still processing the fact that Hoseok had handed you a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers you’ve ever seen and received.

“Happy Valentine’s Day to you too, _____.” He smiles, and it lacks the usual mirth that he carries when he’s out to poke at you. This time, his smile is kind, warm—and longing.

“W-What is this for …?” You admire the arrangement, and it feels heavy in your palms. A testament to the effort put in, as well as how expensive it must’ve been.

“For being a great personal assistant,” He says.

It’s like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on you when he says those words. You blink up at him, then you scowl—shoving him away from you as you abandon the flowers on the table. Your heart was so hopeful as if you had managed to understand what was going on in Hoseok’s heart—but he reminded you of who you were and the world between the two of you shattered.

“Hey—hey. Where are you going?” Hoseok seems panicked but you don’t pick up on much as you hastily try to leave.

“Home, Hoseok.” You say curtly.

He’s faster than you when he grabs your elbow to spin you around to face him.

“Do you not like it?” He furrows his eyebrows.

You glare at him, and all the irritation in you returns when he genuinely looks clueless.

“No, Hoseok. I fucking love it.” You try to pull away, but he’s stronger than you.

“Then what’s the problem?” He huffs.

You narrow your eyes at him and even though he both makes you want to rip your hair out and makes your heart feel funny—he genuinely looks confused.

“You!” You yell, shoving at his chest as he just looks at you quizzically.

“You’re my problem Jung Hoseok,” You point a firm finger into his chest, “You’re always making me do your work for you and teasing me until I want to rip your hair out—then you do this … whatever this is, with the flowers and the stares you’re giving me and you—and you expect me to be okay?”

He blinks at you.

“You’re so confusing Hoseok! Like God—first, you look at me with those eyes of yours and expect my heart not to flutter? Is that it? Do you just like embarrassing me like this? You stupid son of a motherfucking bitch—!”

He really needed to shut you up, and granted, it wasn’t the best way to do it. But there was something oddly endearing about the way you were yelling his ear off that he needed to just close the distance.

Hoseok grabs you by the waist with a firm hand on your cheek when he leans down to kiss you.

The kiss is explosive, both in pent up frustrations and longing all at once and you’re both confused and relieved when you feel the plush of his lips against your own. You forget what you were saying when he holds you like this—close.

Hoseok looked like a magnificent kisser—you theorised—and your hypothesis was proven with the way he’s gentle yet assertive with the way his body moulds against your own.

You whine when he pulls away, your hands clutching at the front of his dress shirt. Only when you see his flushed cheeks, and swollen lips do you remember what was happening.

“_____—”

You punch him in the stomach.

Hard.

He grunts, doubling over as you glare at him.

“Are you insane?” You shriek.

He wheezes, clutching at his abdomen.

“You could’ve just told me you didn’t like me!” He snaps, shooting you a venomous glare.

Your mouth falls open as you give him one of your own venomous stares.

“Are you stupid?” You throw your hands into the air, “Why the fuck did you do that?”

“I was trying to be romantic!” He grits out.

You huff, and you soften for a moment to see him still holding onto his stomach.

You quietly reach out to him, holding him by the elbow like you did something wrong (punching him in the stomach) and look up at him with apologetic eyes.

“Does it really hurt?” You meekly ask.

"No. I'm on the floor because it's comfortable," He deadpans.

You pout as you flush a pretty shade of red.

He’s about to retort when he sees how guilty you look, then he sighs; reaching an arm around your shoulder to bring you into an embrace against his chest.

“It’d hurt a lot more if you were rejecting me.”

You scoff, leaning your cheek against his chest when you feel the movement of his chest with his deep breaths.

“Why couldn’t you ask me out like a normal person?” You complain.

He rolls his eyes.

“You’re not a conventional person to ask out.”

You narrow your eyes at him, and he wants to kiss you again because you’re the cutest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

So he does.

This time, you’re not as shocked, but it’s still as pleasant as when he first kissed you. You lean into his embrace, taking the initiative to run your hands across his shoulders and into his hair.

“We could’ve been doing this way longer if you weren’t such an annoying brat.” He mumbles against your lips.

The moment is broken when he returns to his normal self, but your heart still remains.

“Me? Annoying? You know what’s annoying—the fact that I spent six hours on Valentine’s Day sorting through your stupid documents because you wanted to hold me, hostage, here—”

Hoseok purses his lips as you progress through your rant, but in all honesty, you looked like a little rabbit that was frustrated than anything else, and all he feels in endearment.

He lets you have your moment, though—because he likes you like this—honest, unforgiving and so irrevocably yourself.

“—like, romantic? Please, Hoseok—you have zero romantic bones in your body and I’m pretty sure you’re 100% annoying than human—”

He pouts when you resort to insulting him, and he reaches for your cheeks to squeeze them in his palms so you’d stop.

“Okay enough of that, my feelings are hurt.” He pouts, “But … I’ll let you off the hook cause you’re so cute.”

You glare at him, cheeks still squished together like a chipmunk.

“I hathe eberything avout you.” You say through a muffled breath.

He sighs.

He releases your cheeks and begins packing up the trash, and you’re confused at the way his touch suddenly disappears and disappointed because you weren’t close to him anymore.

“Hobi?” You meekly call out, and he swears his heart stutters at the nickname.

“Can you stop being cute for one second and let me clean up?” He groans, shoving the stray paper bags away into the dustbin below his desk.

You blush even harder, keening under the praise.

You twiddle with your thumbs, awkwardly hovering by his desk as you watch him. You’d try to help, but there was something so utterly domestic and … homey about the way that Hoseok tuts you off when you reach out to pick something up.

Once he’s satisfied (because as annoying as he was, you applauded him for his neatness), he throws his blazer over his shoulder effortlessly, and shuts all the lights off, saying nothing more besides walking to the door.

You eye him curiously, wondering why he hasn’t uttered a single word yet, but as you’re about to open your mouth, he turns around to look at you over his shoulder with a raised brow.

“Are you coming?”

You tilt your head to the side.

“W-Where?”

“With me,” He shrugs his shoulders, leaning against the wooden frame of his door as you feel your heartbeat grow faster at how effortlessly good he looks under the dim light.

“I think I owe you a belated Valentine’s Day celebration, no?”

Oh.

[highviewsmoved]

✽ overhaul x oc (NSFW) ✽ with the promise of a cure, a young woman uses the contents of her grandfather's will to her own advantage.

CAUTION WARNINGS: stockholm syndrome, references to illness, mental instability, emotional manipulation, unresolved sexual tension, voluntary imprisonment, voyeurism, obsession, dubious morality, masturbation. 

“A gentle hand upon a flower, causes it to bloom with love, you see. It takes a caress similar to that of a partner. It’s been a part of our family for generations, this ability.” He uses his hands to cup the sunken plant before him, slowly examining it as it blossoms upward to a renewed state.

The child blinks up at the older man, his eyes wrinkled with a faraway smile.

“But grandmother says I have a curse.”

The older man frowns, eyes downcast. “It may be, but to me, it is a gift.”

The child continues in a monotone that no one should possess at such an age. “All the flowers I touch, they come out of me, grandpa.”

The grandfather doesn’t know how else to respond, but goes and provides aid to the flowers dying from heat, the shade of brown passing over to a healthy green.

“It is a blessing, child,” he reaffirms. He is certain as the flowers that bloom from his hand that his granddaughter is special. “Always count them for yourself.”

Her grandmother lays bedridden. A restless thing that looks so close to the doors of death. Ume feels the tears spill from her eyes. It is a foreign thing to cry with meaning behind it, but it’s what she feels.

“Ume, my flower. Yuzuki left you something you must know. The Hassaikai, our business partner, can take you in. They can heal you.”

She sniffles, wiping her eyes. “Grandfather always told me it was a gift,” she coughs into her hand, an azealia appearing on her lap. Her grandmother coughs, but for a different reason.

“You’re ill, find them, show them this,” her hand is skeletal, like the gnarled twigs of a tree in winter. She nods, taking her hands. “I will, I’ll find them,” she promises.

Her grandmother heaves a shaky breath, passing quietly while the heart monitor keens a high sound, leaving her alone with the paper in hand.

Ume thinks of another time of when her grandparents were just with her moments before, still alive. Still there.

The hospital staff come bursting through, calling out to her and moving her away from the sight. She watches as they cover her grandmother’s face, they push her to the outside of the room.

Ume opens the letter, the will being precariously typed, the calligraphy neat and organized. Something her grandfather was always meticulous about.

It is written on this piece that she is property of the Boss from the Hassaikai. The newly appointed young lord of the organization.

When she returns home, doing a simple search through the calculated books her grandfather left behind. She sees the face of the older Shie Hassaikai and a photo of a young man she’s met and seen before.

A slow smile forms across her face.

Her finger tracing lines against the image of the younger man.

She finds them easily. Ume had to pull some strings. The company her family has owned had ties with the Hassaikai for many years. They developed pharmaceuticals together for people with quirks. They lobbied with one another.

It was all to keep themselves afloat.

And now she’s here. She feels an ebbing of excitement when she’s welcomed into their headquarters.

Ume sits across from the leader of the Shie Hassaikai. The young man was adorned with a plague mask. It’s a signature look for them. The massive paper is being read by the other henchman, a man by the name of Kurono.

“It reads here you are a part of the will that was granted by your grandfather, Yuzuki. The boss knew him for quite some time. And you’re fine with this?” Kurono is skeptical. He is clearly unsure of what sort of play is happening here.

She sits up a bit taller, attempting to seem much more presentable. She must play her part in this as best she can. “I am.”

The man, Chisaki Kai, one she has seen come across her family’s estate many times before. The one from the photo in her grandfather’s files. A young man who seemed quite lost when she saw him. Now looks much more hostile and methodical. He tilts his head curiously.

Mimic below makes a curious noise in the back of his throat. “You don’t think that’s a little off, miss?”

Ume smiles amiably, causing the men around him to shift uncomfortably. Her gaze was pinned on the leader. “I understand my duties entirely well, and I have been raised to meet them. Our families have had a partnership for decades. It’s to continue the union as we see it.”

Overhaul’s gloved hands she notices start rubbing against each other, she glances quickly at the motion but removes her gaze before he can notice. When she meets his eyes they’re locked on hers in a challenge. A heated fire in them, he surely must’ve seen.

“What do you gain from this, Miura? What's your endgame if you were to be kept by the Hassaikai? Is it a business alliance you wish to continue?”

Ume hearing his voice is all she wanted and she exhales shakily, heart giddily pounding. “I’m sick,” she says in a false, weepy tone. “I want to be cured and you have the capabilities to help me.”

Overhaul tenses considerably. Kurono passes a nervous glance towards his boss. Overhaul looks terse, Kurono can sense his hands twitching to rid this woman before him like an infection.

“What’re you ill with?”

Ume’s eyes glitter, the rumble coming from deep in her stomach, rising to unfurl out of her mouth. A flower upon the table. It was a shade of vibrant purple, shaped similar to that of a star with the center protruding yellow. Kurono makes a disgusted noise and Mimic reels back.

Overhaul feels his nostrils flaring at the flora before him. The belladonna, the nightshade resting against the wood of the coffee table. Ume in tears coughs into her mouth.

Disgusting, he thinks. A sickness waiting to flourish if he does not cut it out.

Ume is in a room of white. An area so pristine that she feels she will blacken it with her sight. She lays herself down on the bed as instructed and allows the men to enter with the needle. They say it’s supposed to be a prep, to see if this can really work to nullify the quirk enough to not be a bother for her any longer.

“We’ll remove the illness from you entirely, Miura,” the voice comes from the intercom belonging to Overhaul. She wants to laugh happily, she’s content with how simple it was to get herself here. They were so easily swayed. The tears leak from her eyes.

“Please," she begs. "I no longer wish to be this way.”

“Begin,” comes the buzz from the intercom and one of the men comes close towards her with the needle. The liquid is an odd shade and she forces herself to relax, the lower half of her body shaking.

When she can sense the press of the sharpened needle against her thigh she wants to pull away but she stares straight into the camera in the corner of the room, her eyes never leaving the tiny blinking dot. She knows he’s watching. He is alone and she is here with him.

“We’ll be recording you for updates on the serum we’ve injected. It’s still something roughly in the works, but there’s no reversal for it which you should already have known about—” The man before her continues to drone on about the nullifier and Ume frowns.

She feels disconnected, she’s been in this room for the last seventy-two hours and is beginning to feel restless, her mind drifting to someplace else. In her thoughts she sees Overhaul, with his face against her hand, her lips grazing his temples. She purses her lips and continues to nod as if she’s understanding. She hasn’t listened to a word.

The man coughs. “Well, we’ll leave you to yourself.”

Ume stands up quickly, reaching out. “Please, wait a moment,” her voice light and sweet.

The doctor of some sort seems rather nervous to be in her proximity, his body language on high alert. Ume notices this, thinking of how this room is on heightened surveillance.

She poses herself to be the perfect angel, a young woman in fear of the unknown. “I don’t want to be alone,” her gaze underneath the fluorescence like a sharpened jewel. The man’s entirely stumped, uncertain of what to do or say.

The blinking from the camera seems to analyze every inch of the interaction. She moves closer, her eyes watering with a pleading look. “I’m here alone and I don’t have anyone else, will you let them know that?”

The man swallows heavily, feeling the blood rush to his head, she has a mind-numbing effect on him. “Ah, yes,” he clears his throat rather loudly. “I’ll let the boss know, of course. Pardon me.”

He exits the room quickly, terrified Overhaul may have seen the odd display between them. Entirely unaware the young woman was smiling the moment he turned his back.

Overhaul sits up quickly, moving out of the observation room with a purpose. He feels overwhelmed by the sudden scene he witnessed. Ume was too vulnerable. No longer is the young woman with a horrific ailment, but now someone without it. It was gone and it could not harm her anymore.

She was as clean as that room she was in. She was a sight to behold and he watched her every waking moment bewitched by her. Seeing her with one of his men, alone and so close. It drove him to leave, it’s what’s making him go to her room to ensure the man did not linger or stay.

“Overhaul,” Kurono comes to his side, matching his quick strides. “What’s happening?” The boss doesn’t respond. Overhaul only waves him off dismissively.

Kurono stops, leaving through a different part of the headquarters, not wanting to bother him any longer. A part of him knowing full well where he’s going

Overhaul reaches her area of the base and stops outside the door. He could easily go in and see what’s happening. She’ll be there, in her room with her own personal belongings, and see her. He’s been watching her.

His first memory of Ume was back when she came to the old Hasaikai office, where the boss was in talks with Yuzuki. She was a dainty thing, with a twinkling gaze and an amicable aura about her. She seemed serene, something he was not during his early years. He remembers glancing at her, words not spoken between them, but her gaze held his. It never once left his, as if she could see right through him into the core of his head.

The memory dissipates immediately when he hears a gentle moan, he wavers. An odd feeling washes over him. Why is he here exactly? He is the one in charge and so he thrusts open the door, and he sees an image that will be seared into his memory.

Ume on her back, her hand in between her legs that are spread apart for him to see. He stands there, locked into place with the door closing with a puff of air and she looks up to see him, her hands hiding as she sits up, looking ashamed.

Her cheeks heated and a look of worry flashes across her. Overhaul hasn’t moved.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, her eyes watering and he feels a rapid emotion overcome him.

“You—” he can’t seem to get the words out. It was like he completely lost his purpose for being there in the first place.

His mind was screaming in itself.

Ume lifts herself away from the bed, her skirt covering the legs he saw moments before. She drifts to him like a phantom.

“I’m still not well, my display must’ve concerned you,” she tells him. She is now only a few feet away. Overhaul attempts to rein in his muddled thoughts.

“Clearly,” he spits. He wants to flee, he wants to tear her apart and then rebuild her back again.

Ume was a striking beauty, the mole beneath her lips. Her eyes were a shade of pink, her hair the color of mulberries. She was such a captivating individual that he seems to understand why he feels such a magnetism towards her.

It must’ve been the number of times when she has held his gaze evenly. So at odds with what he expected her to be.

Ume snares him with a hook. “You’re just as twisted,” he feels an odd anger bubble up in him at her.

“What do you know? You’re here on account of your family selling you like a business offering.”

Ume’s eyes flash. “I am here on my own volition with what was provided.”

Overhaul doubts her, she can’t be serious.

She steps closer, her lips a beautiful shape. She reminds him of a spider creating a web. “You’re a sick man yourself. You come into the room of a woman who has no way to defend herself from someone like you.”

“You’re a witch,” he hisses. He feels an emptiness in his core with this talk. He can’t understand what this is.

Ume is unsettling, he realizes. She’s not what he thought she was. “I’m not a danger to you, Kai.” The way she says his name so tenderly, like a woman in love disturbs him more than anything.

She’s suffocating. She’s a boa constrictor wrapping herself around him ready to squeeze.

The effect she has on him is vexing. “I’ve always watched you,” she tells him like a shared secret between lovers. He shakes his head. “Just like you have been watching me.”

He turns on his heel and leaves, shutting the door. Overhaul feels his pulse rising with each step he takes. The way she looks at him, the way she has him in her hands.

Overhaul feels a genuine moment of horror.

What is she?

He returns with an ultimatum. She could finally be released, with the exception of constant surveillance on her. She could return to her old life of doing what she was before.

Overhaul does not want to push her away but his mind keeps thinking of seeing her in that specific position from that day. He wants to get rid of it. He needs her gone.

“I’m still unwell,” she tells him. She watches him warily, but something in her is telling him it's a ruse.

“You’re still sick?” He asks, his hand moving to hover across her face. Overhaul feigns his own concern for her. Ume’s eyes drift downwards. Her day-to-day was a cycle. An endless myriad of nothingness except her own thoughts to please herself with. She’s been in this room for days on end and after their last moment together, she was hoping she had finally gotten through to him. Finally, the object of her attention returned. She has him all to herself.

Ume shifts closer. Overhaul looking down at her, and he does not side step or moves away. “I’m here to get better, aren’t I?”

He tilts his head curiously to her advancing. “And you are? We’ve already given you the antidote.  Don’t you want to leave here?” Ume smiles, eyes bright. She looks similar to a specific painting he’s seen in a galleria. The piece being a ghostly woman standing across the moors in a European isle.

“But you’re here. You keep me company.” He came here on a whim hoping this offer would be one that she would comply with.

Overhaul may have underestimated her, she's like a siren calling him softly from the sea, coaxing him to shore. Her words simply hold that much power.  

His lips feel dry beneath his mask and he swallows. Her gown is loose, revealing her skin below and a part of him feels he could move to coast his hand across. To be able to hear her breathing hitch, close to his ears. To be able to see that display of her legs opening. He ceases the thoughts. She’s at his mercy. He has control.

“I know what you’re doing,” he murmurs, more to himself. His mind has become a frenzy. A demented voice in his brain begging him to lay his hand upon her. One touch won’t hurt, it won’t. It would be quick, a simple thing.

Ume drifts from side to side, her hand reaching above to move a piece of his hair. Her fingers dance across his forehead. He grits his teeth, his gloved hands twitching. His mind suddenly gearing up for a tirade. It’s filthy. It’s disgusting. It feels wonderful.

“Then leave here,” she whispers. “Don’t come back.”

“You’re a vixen. You’re sick,” Overhaul emphasizes. This time he means it, but he can’t help but let himself be entranced. She’s maddening. Enticing, his mind supplies.

Ume laughs, she’s infuriatingly beautiful. “And yet you come, again and again. For me.”

Overhaul retreats, her eyes twinkling with mirth. He leaves her there, walking quickly away, his steps echoing down the halls as he moves around the labyrinth. “Overhaul, where are you going?” Kurono asks in shock, he’s never seen his boss move in such a hurry.

“To my private quarters.”

He shuts the door to his room, locking it, hurriedly taking off his jacket stripping himself of the ailment. His thoughts cause images to be projected into his mind. Seeing himself close to Ume, pressing his lips close to her breasts, and his hands placed where hers was between her thighs.

He feels tight all over, collapsing onto the ground in a mess. His breathing is all over the place as he removes his mask from the heat of it all.

Ume was dangerous.

His hands moving on their own as if she was puppeteering them herself. He imagines her there with him. She could be, his mind adds. That filthy part of himself could go in there and take her. Keep her with him all the while. It’s what she would want. It’s what he wants.

Overhaul unzips his pants, his hands grabbing his cock, feeling the girth against his palm. He imagines her there, she’s so real against him. She is stunning as her mouth presses against his dick.

Fuck.

He begins moving, pumping to get to a fast release. The image of Ume licking his shaft, her fingers dancing across his body. Her touch is absolutely vile, but it causes his heart to pound.

He fondles himself more, beginning to feel his body clench around him. This is sickening, he thinks. It’s not right. Ume is still there, the image of her never left.

Overhaul could’ve taken her into his room. Having done everything his filthy mind was displaying out for him, his pleasure exceeded all logical thoughts.

The idea of her as his alone. “Come for me again and again.” He hears her voice so close to his ear, the way she said his name. Kai. Fuck.

He’s so close.

Her pussy would be pressing against his shaft, she would be so wet, so tight. Her moans would be sensual when she continues to take him how she wants. The way it would spasm against his dick. He grabs his balls roughly at the thought.

Overhaul comes with a grunt, a desperate sound freeing itself. He shivers at the sensation of his own cum warm against his body.

A harsh breath rakes through him and he stumbles his way into the bathroom. He starts the water, the steam rising above when he takes a step in. Overhaul hisses, the water scalding against his skin.

He thought with this he could exorcise the thoughts of her, but knowing that she could be doing this too. Ume’s own fingers deep inside of her, imagining himself was something he never experienced before.

A pleasure all their own.

Ume imagines what she would do if Kai would come and stay with her. If he would be willing to let her touch him, to touch her. His large, gloved hands caressing her thighs, reaching up to grab her breasts.

She begins trailing her own fingers down to her thighs, reaching the clit, the gentle motions budding into herself.

The thoughts of Overhaul down on his knees for her, what a simple touch could do. She moans, her fingers working with a quickened pace to reach her own orgasm. A fast one to rid herself of her desire. She needed to continue her control. She was the one above him. He couldn’t kill her even if he tried.

He kept her here offering whatever possible to release her, but her devotion to him and her own cause kept her to stay in this room so he could return.

Ume puts him through a hideous pattern and it pushes her to the edge. The tightening of her abdomen is ready for her to cum and she does. She arches her back, the sensation of her quivering pussy overwhelming.

The arousal of her knowing that he’s in his room, touching himself despite his abhorrence to it. She licks her juices off of her fingers, her breath heavy as she watches the familiar red dot of the camera.

Ume’s awakened by the opening of the door, and one of the many men announcing she’s allowed free reign to wander their base. That her status was cleared, that the nullifier accomplished its effect and healed her.

She was now free.

It was another offer she realizes, to really get her to leave this place. But she’s having so much fun here, in her own little space. She wishes to be a blight.

A stain that is so deep that it leaves Overhaul a crumbling, cumming mess every time he leaves her room.

He doesn’t touch her, there is no tenderness. Just her words and his own, and a continuous cycle of touching themselves at moments she hopes are timed at the same.

She smiles at the men, a coy thing that holds so much, but does not provide them with what exactly she’s thinking.

Ume’s not done here. She’ll see this through in its entirety.

“I won’t be going,” she sits against the wall, her hair so long that she toys with one of the strands. “I want to be here.”

They seem a bit nervous about her response. Not exactly sure what the procedure for a willing asset is.

“You can leave now,” Ume says. “I won’t be asked again.” They can hear the threat in her tone, her eyes narrowing as the men shuffle out in fear of incurring her terrifying attitude.

Overhaul returns with a quickened haste. Not even bothering to knock on her door and she grins.

“You’re a wretched thing, aren’t you,” he states. His finger pointed at her. She stares at the appendage; wishing to take it deep against her throat.

“I am, but aren’t you?” She’s challenging him. Miura Ume is a shogi piece on the board. The way she calculates his every mood, her eyes gauging him. She could eat him alive. It’s nauseating.

“I could kill you,” he’s trying to convince himself it’s the only rational thing to do. She sits up, the chemise sliding down her shoulder exposing her supple skin. He yearns, a sick part of him wants to see her exposed for him.

He wants to touch her just once.

No! His mind screams. She’s foul. She’s stunning.

Ume moves her hands to hold his, he begins to tremble. He wishes he could grapple with his failing control. To get back at her. She purses her mouth against the tip of his gloved finger, tongue brushing against the leather. When she bites down she never looks away from his sight.

He makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat. Ume releases her hold on him and licks her lips. The pink of her tongue swipes the redness of her mouth. Overhaul is a mess of a man. What kind of the leader of this organization is he, that he is seduced by a single woman.

Ume lowers herself onto her knees, a wicked gleam in her eyes. She’s close to the crotch of his pants and he wants to run. So he can rid himself of these thoughts she’s causing.

“You won’t break your favorite toy,” her silky voice slithers in his ears. Her fingers feather across his thighs.  Ume’s own hands wishing to dig into him.

The light sensation causes shockwaves across his flesh. Overhaul is enraptured. What else could she possibly attempt to do. He replays the image of her mouth around his finger. A dark rumbling in his gut jolts him away, and she smiles. It breaks him away from the reverie of this siren below him.

He stands above her, he could press all five fingers deep into her neck, ceasing her diabolical wishes. “You’re heinous,” he grits out. A realization blooming in his mind that he’s lost this power play. He was already in her clutches the moment he saw her.

She owns him. Every touch, every single way he jerks himself off, the orgasms he has. It’s all for her.

He’s mortified. He feels the room is like a cage. He’s the canary in the cat’s mouth.

Ume pouts. “I could make you feel so good,” she says this as if it’s the only thing he needs.

Overhaul wants to throttle her. He wants to hike up her gown and shove his cock so far deep into her that it makes her hold onto him.

This is dangerous, his mind says. You need to clean yourself.

“You’re a plague,” he spits. “You’re just a wretched thing who wants too much.”

She laughs as if he said the funniest thing in the world. “I am, but you enjoy this just as much as I do.” Ume sits up no longer on her knees. He still towers above her.

Overhaul could end it right now. He just has to touch her. Let her rot against the floor. He’s torn, he fears she’ll reanimate on her own. His own personal karma.

“You want me on my knees for you, telling you the dirtiest things imaginable.” Her eyes were that of a feline.

She backs him against one of the corners of the room. Overhaul slides down against the wall.

He wants this to end.

Ume lowers herself to his level, her lips grazing his ear. “You want me to fuck you senseless.”

Overhaul grunts. “I don’t—“ he can’t get the words out. He’s completely losing himself. He can touch her. He can. He can’t.

Ume’s tongue prods against his neck and he nearly groans. The way it slides up to his chin. He would let her take a bite out of him. It’s what he wants.

He feels his cock hardening against his trousers.

She leans a bit away, getting a good look at him in this state. That longing look in his eye. The lust in his crotch. He’s only wearing his medical mask and she wants to tear it off of him.

“You’re spineless,” she mocks. “You can’t even help yourself or your boss.”

He snarls. “What do you know,” he fires back. “You come here like a leech wanting a cure.”

“I know more than you do,” she tells him.

“Your teasing routine ends here,” he stands. The way she moves away from him pushes him to continue backing her against her own bed.

“Is this what you want? Do you want me to fuck you senseless? Or do you just want my finger in your cunt?” Overhaul feels a recharge in his power. He could finally see her resolve falter.

“I do,” Ume flushes, looking away from him. A gentle admittance. “I want all of it.”

The room is silent, save for the labored breaths from Overhaul and the quiet words from Ume echoing.

They look at each other for a long moment.

Overhaul makes the move first. He presses his lips harshly against her mouth.

She makes a noise but tries to remove the mask he’s kissing her through.

He rips it off and his hands lift her gown as she lays back against the bed.

Her legs wrapping themselves around his waist pulling him to her. Her touch causes him to groan. Overhaul feels his head swimming. She’s delicious. The way her lips form around his, her tongue gliding against his own.

He refuses to lay his hand on her, that part of him with his clear disdain for touch still scratching in his mind. It tells him to stop. To cease.

She’s a drug. Her moans are intoxicating. Her lips drag against his cheek and she suckles his neck.

“I want you,” she presses into him, reaching to unbuckle his pants. Ume grabs his cock through the fabric. No, she’s filthy.

“Fuck,” he exhales. She’s pliant against him.

“Touch me, Kai,” she moans, her legs tight around him. His hips are close to hers. His hands are still balled into tight fists.

“Just one finger,” she prods. “Make me cum.”

He snarls. Overhaul bites her shoulder and she yelps. “I’m not touching you.”

She laughs against his lips. “Your loss.”

They continue like this, lost in the sensation of each other's lips. His hips thrust into hers and she groans a needy sound.

She unbuckles his pants, freeing his cock. He feels dizzy. Ume guides him towards her wet entrance.

“Fuck me,” she moans. Overhaul gnashes his teeth together, his balled-up fists feeling like an anchor.

He’s imagined this so many times. This exact image, her voice right at his ear.

“Please, Kai,” her voice calls again.

Overhaul grunts, thrusting into her. Ume’s cries were delightful. “Oh, Kai.”

He doesn’t move for a moment, and she hugs him tightly to herself, caging him in her arms.

She looks elated, something he hasn’t seen in her expressions. Her controlled, manipulative faces have only been used against him. At this moment she looks genuinely content.

His fists begin to uncurl. Just one touch to wipe the way her tendrils are covering a bit of her face.

A loud knock stops them from going any further, startling them both.

“Overhaul!” A panicked voice comes. “There’s a plan of attack from the heroes.”

Overhaul and Ume look at each other for a long moment. “Put your clothes on.”

He pulls out of her. The feeling of it winding them both up. He would let his men take care of it. He could finish here, before going out there to fight. No. He stumbles away from her. He doesn’t have time to clean himself and he shudders.

Ume is unnervingly complacent through it. Once he readjusts himself, setting his mask on.

She’s back to being fully clothed, her eyes blankly staring ahead.

“I’ll be back,” he says. His head dips, to get her to look at him. Her bright eyes stare into his. “I’ll finish this.”

Ume releases a laugh. “You won’t.”

Overhaul stands at his full height, eyes narrowing. “I will,” he promises.

He shuts the door leaving her alone.

Ume's trademark grin returning.

She walks back to her bed, curling into herself as she waits.

It’s been hours and there’s a breach in her room.

A team of heroes enters and there's a multitude of voices.

“Someone���s in here!”

“It’s a woman! We need a medic!”

They come in a cluster, checking her, and Ume’s tears come falling forth. Her character this time is a hysterical woman who was wrongly experimented on.

“We’ll get you out of here, miss. What’s your name?”

She is inconsolable as she gives them a name, a fallacious one. “Yumi, my name is Yumi. Please, I want to go home.”

The heroes escort her out with a blanket over her shoulders. She looks around the base and it is destroyed. The walls are crumbling. Nothing looks the way it did when she first arrived.

Ume tries to hide her grin. A beautiful downfall that Kai went through, she thinks.

So pretty.

The trip to Tartarus was a vicious one. The seawater lapped against the tides of the boat. The young charge, in connection with the Hero Commission, shields himself from the onslaught of the rain.

“Fujita! We’re almost to the island.”

Agent Fujita, one of Ume’s many disguises only clad in a suit and raincoat, nods affirmatively. “Good.”

The man calls for the steering of the boat to the dock, the entire vessel moving onwards and the agent does not budge. She stays with the breeze against her face, whipping her face as the boat’s sound alerts the officers on Tartarus of an arrival.

The ship is stopped against the steel dock as they rein in the anchor, wrapping the sails against each other as the young escort jogs to her.

“We’ve arrived. Please go this way to the base.”

Ume follows down the ramps. The clanking of the steel-toed boots beneath her into a rhythm.

“Private Personnel coming through please.”

“Identification is needed for passing into Tartarus.”

“I have it,” Ume says, her fingers handing over the passes and a note from the Hero Commission granting the access.

“Agents Gentaro and Fujita?” The man in the dark outfit is splashed by the nearby tide. “Dammit, alright. That’s fine. If they know you’re here. We’ll send them word you’ve arrived.”

Gentaro steps forward. “We won’t be here long, it’s a quick interview with one of the prisoners.”

“It’ll be a fast one,” Ume adds.

One of the other guards snickers. “As long as you both don’t try to break these monsters out.”

Ume smiles a familiar grin that halts the guard's laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The massive gates open forward walking into the long corridors of Tartarus.

“This place is bright,” Gentaro hisses. Ume doesn’t react, only blinking in response.

“The criminal you’re about to meet is infamous, you know? He’s pretty vile, kept a woman and a child, using them for test subjects.”

Ume’s new voice has a low tone. “I’ve seen quite a bit in my heyday, Gentaro.”

He snorts. “Alright, alright. Gotcha, well, I’ll tell the guards you’re ready to see him.”

The room they entered was accessed only through a fingerprint scanner, which Gentaro uses. Ume walks in, standing across a reinforced glass, waiting for them to bring him in.

Ume feels her heart rate pick up. It’s been months on end since the disbandment of the Hassakai, since their separation.

Ume was taken in with the heroes, saved by them. Or so they think. But Ume returns as Agent Fujita now.

She hid her identity, easily enough with a modifying bullet she received from the underground which gave her a new quirk.

It was the ability to change the face, so one does not recognize her immediately as the woman who was captured. Ume had many ties, connections her grandfather left behind; she was able to put them to good use. She used them all to give her this gift before her.

To be able to see him again.

Chisaki Kai enters, completely wrapped in a straight jacket, pushed forth on some sort of mechanism that was strapping him in.

“Agent Fujita, Prisoner 23554 is here. Chisaki Kai, Overhaul, reporting in.” The bleeping over the intercom disperses and she is granted some privacy when the guards leave. They had nothing to worry about since Overhaul could not wield his quirk nor did they know that Ume didn’t even have one.

She smiles.

He looks pathetic, still facing downward, refusing to look up. His hair is overgrown. He has tired eyes, stubble coming in and she wishes to grab his face and rub her lips against the roughness of his chin.

“Kai,” she calls softly. Her voice is the sound of honey dripping from the corners; like it was seeping through the glass. He shifts, raising his head slowly. When he comes to, his eyes widen in shock. “You,” he swallows roughly. His throat feels dry.

She coos, walking closer to the glass, her hands resting on the counter. “Kai, my destroyed, beloved,” she grins all white teeth and red lips. Overhaul quakes, feeling overcome with the oddest emotion. Is he excited? Is he terrified? It’s a rush of cold pouring through his veins. He feels the familiar ache of the loss of his arms, wishing to thrash in his restraints, but the poisonous woman is here and she still speaks.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Ume says in that deceptive tone of hers. It sounds as if she were in awe, but her eyes. Her gaze is so dark that he imagines himself devoured by her.

The reversal of the situation. The way he had her for months on end, trapped in his own area. He should’ve had the upper hand to take back his own control of her relying on him and the odd web of seduction they found themselves in.

Before he was free, he could’ve left her to her own devices. He should’ve killed her when he had the chance, but she stands before him on the other side of the glass. This time, she is where he once was. Now she could continue to see him, the vicious cycle continuing. He wants to yell, scream out to the guards. The rush of blood goes to two places, his head and to his dick.

“You’re here,” he says. She laughs lightly, nodding. Ume was a wretched woman for this. A parasite burrowing her way into his flesh, never coming out. He wants to heave. Her constant advances were intoxicating, they cursed his life. He loathes his own weakness for not denying her. He couldn’t have. He was so close. He aches for her.

She tsks, her fingernail scraping against the glass. The sound high pitched and torturous to his ears. He gasps, not knowing how to make her stop.

Ume presses her lips too close against the mirror, the shape of her lipstick leaves a mark there. He clenches his teeth tightly together so he doesn’t groan.

She leans back, admiring her handiwork. Him on the other side, just how she always wanted to see him. Overhaul, the methodical, locked away in a small room just as she was. He was her likeness.

Ume’s voice points out the obvious, but he can’t bear to think of it, he doesn’t want to hear it.

“Kai,” she says, observing him as if she’s viewing a virus through the lens of a microscope. His head hits against the steel of the odd-standing chair that he’s restrained in. “You look ill.”

The contamination has already made its home in him. In her. He can’t escape it. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he’s wheeled away back to his cell. Once the resounding click of the door encloses him in. He can feel her still there with him, the moaning in his ear returning and the tears are hot against his face.

Your loss, her voice returning from that time. Replaying itself over and over.

[whaleofatjme1920]

I saw your wolfman reader and loved it so much! Was wondering how you feel about maybe a Trader x reader? He's so sweet I feel like he's always looking out for you in the woods whether you know he is or not 🥺 also thank you so much for the darkwood fic we are starved here

Late Autumn's Trader

[The Trader X GN!Reader]

[Warnings: like, none?]

[AN: I was watching the VVitch when making this, and Thomasin is well, Thomasin. That poor girl deserved so much better lmfao, I will stand by that statement forever. At this point, I should just say that the Creepypasta/Marble Hornets requests are closed until Sunday lmfao I am not in love with that fandom rn. Anways, I hope you enjoy and that it's up to par <3 1.4K words]

The sun is beginning to set on the cursed, yet self-sufficient village you call your home. It’s not like there’s really a sun to see - the light is never able to pierce through the thick clouds, but it’s gradually glowing darker. Autumn is slowly coming to a close, and the villagers have found reason to celebrate.

The sow has been most bountiful, and the woods more graceful.

The lights of the village are almost as warm as the ever falling orange and red leaves that now blanket the forest floor. It’s almost surprising how good this year has been, almost as if the power that be is granting a moment of breath and mercy.

Of course, the woods grow at an alarming rate and soon you will be consumed, but it is a sweet consumption all the same.

Your father and mother call it false security.

Quietly, you step out of your house into the cold autumn air, wondering if winter will be just as gentle and forgiving. In the distance, you can hear violins carrying on the chilly breeze and the sound of people dancing.

This is the only levity they’ve had in years.

You pull at your shawl, attempting to stay warm before blowing warm air into your hands and rubbing them together. Perhaps you’ll stop by the square and pick up some soup. Your boots gently tap against the earth, a small hum leaving your lips as you do so. The air smells sweet, nostalgic and still stuck in time, but sweet. The woods around you, though dark and foreboding, are not near as imposing as they normally are.

You huff silently before crossing through the dirt paths, your journey taking you near the entrance of the village. You glance out to the side, the shrine in her glory decorated with offerings both to the woods and herself. She’s done an incredible job of keeping her people safe and the woods to bring sustenance for yet another year.

But there, out in the darkness, is a man you’ve only ever seen in whispers and sparsely through the fog. He rolls his shoulders forward, almost as if he’s uncomfortable with the weight on his back before nodding to the shrine. He holds his hand out to her, the metallic band catching the remaining of the sun’s lights and flashing in your eyes before he leaves it at her feet.

You blink and flush with embarrassment when you realize you’ve been staring a tad too long and quickly avert your eyes, unsure if he’d take offense to the notion or not. Instinctively, you grip at your shawl and will yourself to move forward.

The man gazes at you, his head tilting to the side as he draws closer to the mouth of the village.

Embarrassment floods your system as you move closer to the crowds. That was rather rude of you, come to think of it. The smell of food and fire fills your nose as you walk closer and closer still. You’re watching the heads for your mother or your father, your younger siblings and hope to find them. It would do you well to see some familiar faces after that rather awkward experience.

You keep your head on a swivel as you walk and push past the people who chatter like they’ve never seen a nicer night. The moon is rising higher and higher in the sky, and the light she is able to shine through the clouds bathes the village in her beauty.

It almost feels warm.

You mentally curse yourself at finding your family when a strong bout of intuition leads you back away from the celebration, to the outskirts of the square.

“Excuse me,” you mumble as you push past merry people, your gut guiding you downwards.

What a sight to behold.

Your eyes widen and you feel an immense amount of protection flood through your system, practically breaking from the lights and merrymaking when you see that man from before, knee on the earth as he places a crown of autumn leaves on your little sister’s head. She giggles, her hands grasping at her dress as she sways side to side, a warm smile on her lips.

“Thomasin!” You hiss, rushing forwards and tackling the young girl, snarling in defense when the man widens his eyes in surprise.

“R-Reader!” She cries out and yelps, her small hands grasping at your forearm.

“Don’t touch her!” You growl.

The man immediately backs up, his hands raised in submission before stepping back, giving the two of you your space. The glass of his mask is fogging as he breathes in deeply, the scent of mushrooms overtakes your nose.

“Well?” You sneer as you back up with your sister in your arms. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

The man only stumbles for a moment, his movements snapping out of a daze before he rolls up the sleeve of his coat, revealing smudged marks.

You’re barely able to open your mouth when you see him procure a pen.

‘I’m sorry,’ the words read out.

“Huh..?”

His gloved index finger points again at the words. ‘I mean you no harm,’ he scribbles down after wiping away the previous words. ‘I came here for business, but your little one-’

“My sister.”

He wipes the words away. ‘Your sister (apologies) asked for my help.’

You look at the young girl in your arms and raise a brow. “Thomasin?”

She looks up at you sheepishly, the autumn colored leaves covering her head obscuring her full expression from you before she giggles nervously. “I’m sorry, Reader,” she says with that same sheepish smile. “I wanted some flowers.”

“It’s almost winter,” you frown.

“That’s why he gave me the leaves instead,” she beams. “He is a nice man!”

Curiously, you look between Thomasin and the man who nods in agreement. Your eyes lock with his, checking for any deceit when you find none. “Do you know the way back to mother and father?”

Thomasin nods against you.

“Head over there now, please.” Hesitantly, you unpeel your arms from your little sister and watch as she steps forwards to the ‘nice man’. Her hands reach out to him, and he smiles ever so slightly, his gloved hand reaching back out to her before you shoot a disapproving look his way. You sigh, unwrap your shawl from your shoulders and throw it over her to keep her warm for the journey back.

You clear your throat before she scampers off, an apologetic smile on her lips as the man watches her disappear into the crowd.

“So,” you begin.

‘So,’ the man writes.

“What’s your name?”

‘Most people call me the Trader.’

“Creative.”

He smiles. ‘Reader is a pretty name.’

You flush for a moment.

An awkward pause follows between the two of you, the quiet growing and swelling much like the village’s festivities. You can hear laughter, the sow in the distance, good tidings for am approaching, hopefully short winter.

“Did you get to check out the festival yet?” You ask quietly, effectively breaking the thick silence.

The Trader shakes his head.

“Would you like to?”

He nods.

Slowly, the two of you stand, almost hesitant in the other’s presence and look each other over in full. He looks like a traveler, covered in layers of clothing and gear you’ve never really seen before except for maybe on the strangers that wander through once in a blue moon. You’ve heard whispers that they are the ones who come from beyond the trees.

You feel safe in the numbers of your fellow villagers, a small smile spreading on your lips as the Trader sticks close to you. You get the sense that he likes it too, and you reaffirm it when you see the ghost of a smile on his lips through the mist of his mask.

You’re about to ask him something when you’re suddenly pulled from the crowd to the center, a gasp falling from your lips before the music is seconds from starting back up. You look around with concern before the Trader steps forward, his bag an afterthought as he assuages your brief fear.

You smile at him as he holds his hand out to you, the beginnings of a lively song beginning to fill your head. He feels warm, and gentle, like sunlight that pierces through the clouds.

He nods his head almost playfully at you and you follow in suit, a courtesy feeling far too formal but you give in and demonstrate anyway. Another smile crosses onto his lips, his form dipping to accommodate yours.

You melt into his warmth and dance.

[ajbwasntwriting]

Daughter!Reader x Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 3. Shorts Fired

First | Previous | Next

This chapter originally contained Daryl...Then I remembered that conflicted with Canon and changed it, but he’ll appear soon. Additionally, I got a request to start a tag list so if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me

Also in the event that the link’s don’t work I’ve started adding a hashtag to this series: AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires. 

“This is what we found sir,” Simon said, his team depositing a bag, a bow, a quiver of arrows, and a knife with your name engraved on the side. Negan picked up the knife, eyeing at the dry blood on the blade.

“She put up a fight” he commented, a smirk on his face. “That’s my girl.” He looked back at Simon from his seat in the meeting room. “We’ll find her” Simon’s men looked at each other nervously. Simon found his mouth dry and had to clear his throat to keep talking.

“Sir...We found her...she”

“Then where the hell is she?” your father asked, interrupting Simon as you would interrupt him. The room went incredibly quiet.

“She turned, sir.” Simon spoke. Negan froze for a moment before falling back into his chair. “We...captured her... if you’d like to see.” Wordlessly Negan rose from his seat and rushed towards the exit, specifically to the van Simon had been out in.

The shutter raised and low and behold, there stood a walker. Her face had been devoured but she was wearing your clothes, right down to the military boots you never took off, despite how many nice clothes and shoes he’d find for you. ‘Just encase’ you said.

Looking at the walker growl and reach for him, Negan felt numb. He now realised he hadn’t dropped your knife. “Gimme a minute” he ordered, climbing into the van and closing the door behind him.

Now it was just Negan and the walker, he began to tear up. “I’m sorry y/n.” he whispered before reaching behind and destroying her brain. It fell and he cradled her in his arms as he wept. “I’m so sorry. I tried to keep you safe, princess.” he rocked back and forth gently, stroking it’s hair as he mumbled to himself “I’m so sorry”

The night of your escape you broke into a thrift store to get some new clothes, though it’d hardly count as breaking in as whoever owned it was probably dead. You found some old khakis, a tie-dye shirt, and a black sweatshirt that had seen better days. It wasn’t much but it was warm. If only they had socks. You pulled on a pair of trainers and ran, wanting as much distance between you and Sanctuary as possible before your old man got back.

From there it wasn’t easy. Food was gone, ammunition didn’t exist, and the closest thing you had to a bed was a car with the doors closed. Anyone else would crack under these circumstances, but not you. You had experienced stuff arguably worse than this. You were a trained soldier with experience on foreign battlefields, so a few undead going bump in the night wouldn’t stop you from sleeping. What did keep you awake was the memories.

“You shouldn’t take those with booze, ma” you interjected, your mother just gave you a filthy look from over the edge of her bourbon glass. “I am the mother, you are the child. Remember your place.” was the usual reply, and that was the reply you preferred. It meant she’d spend the night cursing you out, picking apart your flaws, and blaming you for your old man’s fooling around. The words were easier to deal with than dodging a flying glass.

You were 15 when your mother got diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and your world went from sunshine and rainbows to cleaning up after your mother passed out so she wouldn’t be embarrassed in the morning and letting your dad in at 4 in the morning so the neighbours didn’t see him. In the morning your mother would make you pancakes to say sorry, even though any movement would hurt her. Your father would slip you twenty bucks for ‘being a team sport’.

You had accepted that your mother just didn’t have the nerve to confront your father on all his cheating because she was worried she’d leave him, and your father was an idiot that was more bothered by the parents at the school he teaches at finding out that he screwed around then what he was doing to your family. You accepted it. You understood it. That didn’t mean you forgave them. It also didn’t mean you wouldn’t call them every chance, that you wouldn’t send a hundred letters to them every year, that you wouldn’t kiss their cheeks while declaring ‘I love you’ to all that heard.

Every morning you woke at what you believed to be 6 am. It had been hardwired into you from your service. You’d start walking in the same direction, trying to get as far from Sanctuary as possible, though your speed was slow and you often stopped at towns or houses to scavenge. Now and then you’d stumble into houses that had gardens or farms that had been overrun. Usually, there were more walkers than food but you had secured a rather sharp knife to replace the arrow you’d been using to bring down walkers quietly. You also carried your things in a child’s school bag, being the most together bag you could find at the thrift shop. The bright pink glitter didn’t go with your desire to stay low but sacrifices had to be made, such as hygiene.

Your form was weak from a strong lack of food, your feet were raw from the constant walking, you were constantly exhausted. Taking down walkers with the kitchen knife had become muscle memory. Hand on chest, knife in head, hand on chest, knife in head, and so on. You felt more dead than alive when a gunshot fired somewhere behind you. You swirled around to see a clearly a few steps right of you and a walker being downed. You put the math together and knelt into the foileage. “Sasha what are you doing?” you heard a lady call from far off. A moment later you noticed your sleeve feeling more and more damp. A quick glance confirmed blood, making you curse under your breath.

The gun shot attracted more of the biters out of the forest and into the clearing to see this Sasha character, but three were more interested in the smell of your blood. You cursed again, jumping back and taking steps away from the clearly. You reached for your gun on instinct before realising it would probably attract the people, and you didn’t want that. To make matters worse your shot arm was your stabbing arm. Flexing the arm caused the blood to start pouring so you took the kitchen knife in your other hand, the walkers approaching you. Having little time to react you kicked one back, sending it into a bush while another lunged at you. You narrowly sunk the knife into its skull, though the combination of it falling on you and your lack of good footing sent you backward, banging your head off a tree. Your head began ringing when the third reached for you over the lunger, giving you enough space to swing your arm and shove it through it’s temple.

You turned to get the two corpses off you, settling into a squat against the tree as the first offending walker got to its feet. You flipped the knife in your hand as it wandered towards you, using the tree to stand up quickly and stabbing up through its neck. The last one fell and you heard more shuffling through the woods. “I’m coming with you”. Crap it was those people. You ducked behind your support tree, the sudden exertion making your arm bleed. You clasped a hand over it as you bit your lip, watching from behind the tree. Three women walked by, two following another with a large rifle. ‘Are they from an outpost?’ you thought. You waited a while for them to pass with short breath, not wanting to risk them looking for you.

When you were sure you were in the clear you ran, making note not to run in the direction they came from or were heading. You ran and ran until you found a gas station. There were a couple of walkers in there but you needed something to dress your wound. You took a step back and shot through the glass at the first, getting the second with your knife when it stumbled through the shattered window.

Walking in you noticed it was a treasure trove. Most of the shelves still had their goods and the first aid pack was still there. Taking off your shirt you were relieved to find the bullet had only grazed you and the bleeding was slowing. Still, you cleaned and dressed the wound, popping a lollipop in your mouth for good measure.

You only got a few bottles of water and some stale chips in your bag when a car pulled up. You dove behind the counter without thinking, pulling the walker you shot over your body. Cracking glass signaling they had walked in.

“I thought this place was locked up” a man’s voice spoke out.

“It was” another man’s voice replied.  “Whoever broke in didn’t clear it. Come on”. You heard shuffling, then felt someone kick your leg.

“Anything behind there?” the woman called.

“Nah, just a couple of dead ones.” you tried to maintain your stillness when what you assumed was one of the men, stepped on the back of the walker, and pushed the air out of you. It took everything to maintain your quiet when he reached for your bag, cutting it off your shoulder. You stole a look to see a man with long messy hair, a button-up opened over a t-shirt, and a sheriff’s hat rustling through your stuff.

“This one had a first aid pack,” he called, pulling everything from your bag into his own. You made a mental note to kill this man the next time you saw him.

You lay as still and as silent as you could until you heard the car drive off again. You pushed the dead off you and dived for your bag, looking through it just to confirm what you already knew. He took everything. Your bullets, your food, everything. You threw the bag across the floor cursing. You sat on the ground, your head in your hands. You stared at nothing until an old map caught you. You slowly pulled it out of the hole it had been shoved in between the counter and the register and unraveled it, wanting something to look at other than your distinct lack of supplies. The map must’ve been used by the previous manager, because your current location was clearly marked and the DC city limits weren’t that far out. Your eyes lit up

‘The only place left with stuff would be the city. They had a refugee centre.’ you thought. You sat there a moment longer, soaking in your helplessness. Standing up from behind the counter you realised how badly they’d empty the place. The shelves didn’t even have the dust on them anymore. You took off your shirt, using it to pick up a piece of shattered glass, then walked over to one of the walkers to start carving it open. If you were to brave DC without weapons you’d need a disguise.

After soaking yourself in undead guts you repurposed the walker’s shirt to hold your make-shift blade. The walk into the city was short once you cut through the woods. As expected the road was lined with cars and walkers, non paying you any attention. You walked into an abandoned RV to check your wound, making sure no infection had seeped in. Once you opened the door some walkers lunged at you, making you step in quicker. Immediately your nose filled with a vile stench, causing you to vomit into the entryway. In your new position, bending over with your hands on the floor sitting in your vomit, you could see the cause of the smell from the corner of your eye.

You walked over slowly to the back of the rv in case they turned, but also to clarify the image as the bodies had been decaying for so long. The blood spatter confirmed a gunshot. It looked like a woman in a summer dress and two young children. Pinned to a board above the bed were some pictures. Smiling children, older people with drinks in hand, and a happy family on the beach; A mother, a father, and two children barely out of their toddler years. You looked up and down the alley, no sight of a fourth family member.

“Coward ran” you mumbled to yourself. The covers lay at the bottom of the bed. You grabbed them and pulled them over the family.

A little bit of scavenging brought you a new ruck-sack in a dirty green colour, two bottles of water, some painkillers, and a pair of socks. You celebrated silently before you put them on, already feeling the old trainers rub your feet raw. As you closed the presses something in the bathroom cubby began to move. Clawing at the door but not sure how to get out. If he couldn’t get out then only one thing came to mind.

“Guess you weren’t a coward.”

You opened the door, the walker falling out and quickly meeting your glass, it breaking off in his head. You picked him up and laid him down with the family, noticing he was wearing the same shirt as in the picture above the bed. You felt jealous of the family, but you pushed it down. Now wasn’t the time. As luck would have it the walker was keeping a hunting rifle with a low power scope in his cubicle, along with five bullets. You picked it up, looking it over. You hadn’t used one of these before the world went to shit but what time better than the end of the world to get a refresher lesson.

Getting into the city was relatively easy, finding your way through the crowd, down an alley, on top of a garbage can, and in through an old apartment window into a complex with only a couple of the dead following you. They groaned and reached into the higher window, but you were safe in someone else’s sitting room. You jumped up when another walker strutted in from another apartment room. All you had were two guns and firing either one of them would drag too much attention.

You looked around for anything to use but it was on you before you could act, pushing you back towards the window. Pinned to the breaking frame by the undead and more of them reaching for you from the back you pushed against it with all your strength, its jaw snapping at you. You took in a deep breath and pushed back with all you had, sending it to the ground running to the other side of the common space. It rose confidently from behind the couch looking around there was a tv to your left and a dead potted plant to your right.

It walked around and lunged at you just as you got the potted plant off the floor, swinging it around and knocking it to the ground. Before it could get up again you dropped the plant on its head, followed shortly by the tv for good measure. You leaned against the wall, causing it to crumble and collapse, sending you back into a child’s bedroom. You coughed as the dust fell on you, pulling yourself into a sitting position. Looking into the sitting room you now noticed it featured a kitchen area, complete with a full block of knives staring right back at you.

You gathered up the knives and went up a floor, wanting some distance between the dead and yourself. It seemed the complex had been cleared, but that made sense since it was the city. You found an apartment with a street view and made your camp, pulling an old mattress from the bedroom into the common room to keep watch. You opened a window to clear a little of the dust from the room. You’d sleep here tonight then move more in the city later. You found some books in the apartment. ‘Jane Eyre’, ‘Little Women’, ‘Get Slime in 40 days’. It painted the image of some sad spinster trying to better herself to get back at the world. ‘The Woman’s Guide to Single Life’ added a frame to that image.

“Come on!” you heard a man yell, followed by a gunshot. You fell to the ground instantly, crouched over, and crawled to the window. Peering out there was a sight to behold. It was the same hat-sporting man, no a boy, and an older man with a beard with a herd on their heels. They’d be at your window. You loaded a bullet in the chamber of your hunting rifle, using the scope you had it on the older man’s head in moments since he had a larger bag on his back. All you had to do was squeeze the trigger and he’d be down, dropping his stuff and maybe the other would be eaten and you could take your stuff too. All you had to do was squeeze that trigger.

“Dad!” The boy screamed out when a dead grabbed his bag, your scope moved in a moment and the walker was downed. They looked around wildly while running. You made a rash decision and stuck your head out the window and yelled to them as you reloaded the gun.

“Hey you two, round the corner there’s a busted window! Get to it!”. They seemed to understand and began sprinting. You took down one behind the man that had gotten too close, then another. You heard a thump downstairs just as you ran out of ammo.

You walked out of your apartment just as they came up the stairs, you pointed the gun at them in defense. “Stay right there”

The two stood with their hands up. They glanced at each other and then you. The older man began to speak. “Thank you for-”

“If you wanna thank me, give me back my shit” you cut him short.

“We didn’t take anything from you.” the boy in the hat replied.

“Three bottles of water, two packets of chips, and the first aid kit.” you retorted, noticing the shock in the man's eyes. You motioned the gun to the boy “You cut the bag off my arm back at the gas station. The pink glitter thing.”

The man swallowed hard “We can’t. That stuff. We have people that need it-”

“I could have fucking killed you. Is that not worth shit?” The silence that followed made it all worse.

“Listen, I’m Rick Grimes, This is my son, Carl” He motioned to the boy behind him “We come from a place. A safe place with walls. If you let us keep your stuff you can come back with us. We can give you a safe place to live.” The rest of his words turned into white noise after you heard his name.

“Alexandria?” You questioned, a sad smile coming to your face. “You’re not gathering stuff for your own people, are you?” you lowered your gun a little.

“You know these people?” the boy asked, getting angry. You nodded solemnly.

“Look, I’m not going back with you, but I’ll offer you a deal. Give me the first aid kit and I’ll give you this gun” you said, holding up the rifle to further your point.

“We need it,” Carl argued.

“So do I.” You rose your short sleeve to show the bandage. “Some asshole nearly shot out there.” Carl reached into the older man’s bag, Rick immediately telling him not to.

“She saved us,” he argued, pulling out the red plastic pack.

“One good turn deserves another,” he stood up and went to hand it to you before you raised the rifle again, shaking your head no. You motioned to the ground, where he put it down. You once again motioned to the ground and he kicked it over. You knelt down, placed down the rifle, and snatched up the kit before diving back into your room, slamming the door shut.

You rushed over to your bag, grabbing it and shoving the kit in. “This is empty!” you heard Rick yell as you dove out the window onto the fire escape and descending back to the streets.

Tag list

@softsebastian​

[wonderwomanfantasy]

Today, Tomorrow, Forever.

Behold, the four AM dabi fic. Also this is the first part of a series so look out for the next part. Also Also, this is based on a lot of different books and shows so if at any point you’re like “hey this is just like X” you’re probably right. 

Dabi x Reader (not really in this chapter but we’ll get there)

warnings: swearing, violence, abuse, Endeavor, spooky shit, cannon divergence (Dabi is a good brother), this is a full AU so I did mess with the ages of the Todorokis,

words: 2,300

summary: Out of the frying pan into the fire, that was the expression right? leaving one bad situation into something much much worse? That’s where you were right now, in the fire. 

Sometimes it was hard for you to tell what was real, and what was fiction. Often you’d wake from a vivid dream and as you blinked the spots from your eyes and looked up at the textured ceiling of your bedroom, and for an instant, or in truth much longer than an instant, you’d still be there. In the dream. Then you would get up and you would remember, you were in your room, in your bed, in your body. At least that’s what it seemed like. 

Then of course there were the ghosts. You weren’t sure if the ghosts were reality or fiction, they seemed like a gray area between the two. Sometimes other people could see them, which lead you to believe they were real, but then most of the time it was only you seeing the figures and shapes, But that didn’t mean they weren’t real. 

All this to say when Enji Todoroki told you his house was haunted, you were surprised to meet someone so open to believing in ghosts. Of course, he rather quickly squashed that idea with the next words out of his mouth being “Those rumors are of course ridiculous but some idiots still believe it,”

“Of course,” you replied meekly, dropping your eyes from his stern gaze.  “Ghosts, real or not don’t bother me so that won’t be an issue, Sir.”

You needed the job, badly, so you were willing to lie. Enji was looking for a Nanny for his youngest son, you were looking to get away from where you were coming from, so you were both in a position to help the other. And the only catch seemed to a slightly haunted house. You could live with that, as long as your own ghosts stayed away.  

“When can you start?”

The Todoroki manner was a large one, Ornate and lavish if not old, clean and well taken care of it seemed, but empty. There was a housekeeper, a cook, a gardener, and a pool boy, all of whom seemed very nice but all of them seemed to slip into the shadows the moment you turned your back, and as it where you were to be the only one who lived in the manner full time, isolating you further. 

As Enji walked you through the home you couldn’t help but think that perhaps it was more than the ghost rumors that were keeping people away. There were framed photos on the wall, of Enji, his wife, and four children all of varying ages, you found it strange that none of them seemed to be here, save Enji and Shoto. 

Speaking of Shoto, You were warned about the scar that covered nearly half of his face, but the warning wasn’t enough to prepare you for seeing it in person, it took all you had not to gasp when you looked the boy in the face. Similarly, you knew that he was a quiet boy, but you hadn’t been expecting him to give you a single “nice to meet you,” then stay silent for the rest of your interaction. 

“He’s just a little shy, we’ll warm up to each other,” you assured, smiling first at Shoto and then at his father. 

Then Enji left leaving you alone with his son. You were awful with kids, terrible really and if you had had any other choice you might not have taken this job. You had no idea how to even begin acting around this kid. 

You decided to pull from what little human interaction you could and decided to treat him like a coworker. Right so what would you do with a cold coworker?

“Shoto, I’m still new so why don’t you show me your favorite part of the house alright? Then we can do something fun,” you offered. He thought about it and nodded. While he didn’t say anything just stood up and started walking out of the room. You followed him as he lead you out into the backyard there was a large grass field and a pool with trees lining the promoter. It was a warm spring day, but most of the trees in the yard were dead, not yet budding, still suffering from the harsh winter.  

Shoto lead you into a patch of trees further in the back of the field to a cluster of oak trees and you saw one had an old ropes wing hanging from the lowest branch. 

“You like to swing?” you asked and he shook his head

“No? Then why this spot,” you asked and for the first time since meeting him, he spoke

“My mom used to like this swing, she’d sit on it and read me stories,” he said, crouching down and sitting down on one of the roots of the old tree. You crouched down beside him.

“I see, so you come here to remember your mom?” you asked and he nodded silently. You took a shuddering breath and reached down the collar of your shirt pulling out a slender silver chain that held a locket, and showed the necklace to Shoto.

“I do the same thing with this locket, it helps me remember my mom too,” you said. 

“Your mom went away too?” he asked.

“Yeah, she got really sick when I was younger and, she went away,” you said, choking back emotion, you were surprised that talking about your mother still brought up this sadness in you, Shoto reached out and touched your hand. Almost like he was trying to comfort you. 

“We still see her sometimes, in the hospital, but it’s not the same,” He said quietly, a cold breeze passed over you, ruffling your hair and making you shiver. 

“That must be hard,” you said and he nodded, “why don’t you show me some of your other favorite places okay?” You said and he nodded. You both stood and walked back into the house, another shiver going down your spine as you tucked your locket back into your shirt. 

It only took you a week to realize that Enji Todoroki had never spent a day in his life with his son. While Shoto’s room was littered with sports equipment, soccer balls, baseball bats, tense rackets, all unused. 

Shoto liked the library, he liked to read and draw, he wasn’t a hard kid to look after, you would read with him, or fill in coloring books at his request, and often the two of you would walk around the field talk about the books he’d read. 

Sometimes Shoto would ask to see your locket, and you’d show it to him and you’d talk about your mothers together.

“Is there a picture inside the locket?” he asked and you winced, instinctually closing your fist around the silver heart. 

“No,” you lied, “the latch is broken so it doesn’t open,” you  said. He nodded and dropped the subject. You tucked the locket back inside your shirt and went on with the game of chess you were playing, losing badly to Shoto.

He was a good kid, and he opened up to you easily, which only solidified in your mind that Enji had never once tried to understand him but you weren’t getting paid to play family therapist. 

While taking care of Shoto was easy, living in the manner was anything but. The house was old and made a lot of creaking settling noises that never failed to make you jump. The rooms were dimly lit and furnished with dark wood making the rooms feel smaller than they where, making you clostrophobic.  Even though you had been living here for over a month now the lay out of the house still perplexed you sometimes, leading to geting lost in rooms you’d never seen before and would never see again. 

The rooms of the Elder Todorokis, Shoto’s brothers and sisters, always remained locked, not that you had ever tried to open any of those doors, the strage chill that seemed to emanate from that room was always enough to keep you away. 

All of that was annoying, chilling even, knowing what you knew. But none of it was unbearable, but the ghosts. The ghosts made you want to leave. 

Sometimes you would wake up with a transparent blue woman looming over you and you had to clap your hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming. She left as soon as you saw here, leaving you shaking. 

“I am in Todoroki manor,” you started shakily, touching a hand to the top of your head.  “I’m in my bed, I’m in my body,” you reminded yourself before collapsing back to the bed

 No one else seemed to be able to see the man in the kitchen or  the apparitions that plaied out side. So you kept quiet, and didn’t say anything. 

Some nights how ever, they kept you up. You would sit shaking in your bed, one hand firmly around your locket the other over your mouth while widows slammed open and things toppled from shelves.  While most of the ghosts in the house seemed docile there was at least one who wasn’t. This villant ghost never showed themself, until one night. 

It was pitch black when you returned home. You had been permitted to Take Shoto out of the house and the two of you had gone to a movie. 

He tieredly rubbed his eyes as you helped him out of his jacket. 

“Ready for bed?” you asked and he nodded. He took your hand and slowly you both made your way up the stairs.  There was a loud cracking sound and before you saw the heavy oak banister crack. 

You frose in place. Not now, you silently pleaded, not in front of someone else, you couldn’t contain your fear and still play it off as normal. You could smell smoke. 

Shoto suddenly gripped your hand tighter.  “We should run,” he said, could he possibly see what you were seeing?

Before you could ask him anything, the painting on the wall to your left fell to the floor with a crash, blood oozing out of the eyes of the people inside, Shoto screamed, and without thinking you lifted him in your arms and took off running. His short nails dug into your shoulders as he clung to you.  You saw a door cracked open and without thinking you burst into the room slamming the door closed behind the two of you and slumping to the floor, Shoto in your lap your back to the heavy wood. You took a look around assessing your surroundings and saw you were in Shoto’s neat and tidy room. 

There was another loud crash and you felt Shoto go stiff in your arms frozen in fear and suddenly there was only one thing you could think and that was oh god I have to protect this child I have to protect this poor poor child. You lifted him easily in his arms and marched to his bed, then you firmly removed him from your shirt and place him down.

“Hide under the covers, I’ll be right back okay?” you ordered, he looked terrified, he didn’t say anything just crawled under the covers. You spun around on your heel and headed to the door, picking up his toy bat as you went. Sure it was a toy but damn if you weren’t going to swing it hard enough to cause some real damage. And you barrage into the darkened hallway. 

At first, there was a disturbing quiet, just the labored sound of your breathing. “Don’t play coy now you son of a bitch,” you hissed under your breath. There was a groan and you whipped around seeing your ghost for the first time.

The first time you’d seen a ghost, and known it was a ghost, was when you were seven. You were five or six. You were in a park sat on the swingset trying to learn how to swing without needing to be pushed like the big kids did when you saw an old woman who had neither arms nor legs. Most ghosts were like that, half-formed, incomplete as if they had lost more than just their lives.

Not this one, however. You could see him perfectly from the tip of his spikey white hair down all the way to the clasps on his boots. He looked surprisingly like Natsuo, with white spikey hair, a lanky body, and angry eyes. Toya, he had called his dead brother. Toya was right in front of you now. 

This revelation paused you for only a moment before you glaired at the spectator. 

“Can you-” he began to speak but you cut him off by swinging the bat through his middle section, it passed through him harmlessly but you didn’t care you moved to hit him again. 

“Stop,” he growled and caught you by the thought, you gasped feeling his cold skin touch your throat, then his fingers clamped down choking you. He looked stunned, not that you really cared about whatever revelation this bastard was going through if he could touch you that means you should be able to touch him. You swung the bat again this time hitting his wrist knocking his hand off your throat, you stagged back and sneered at the ghost your heart pounding in your chest so loud you wondered if he could hear it. 

He, Toya, Looked at his hand flexing his fingers, then at you, then vanished. You whirled looking for where he would pop up next, but he didn’t appear. You rushed back into Shoto’s room coking him out of the covers and holding him while he sobbed. You might have cried a little too, it was hard to tell.

In the morning there would be bruises of fingers on your neck.

[huaxxian]

Stone Skipping || CH1 ; 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴

In the midst of their pleading, rickety lines overcame [name]'s vision. They were wild and quickly spread throughout the darkness that encased them, spreading hope within the depths of their heart. Light seeped through these cracks, and before they knew it..

The darkness was no more. 

First, it was their eye. Their actual sight had returned. From what [name] could tell, the stone pieces were cracking and surely falling off from their body. Then, they looked around the environment. Unlike only-Senku-knows-how-long ago, nature had completely taken over the area they were in. The plants were lush and green, the trees so tall that they practically reached the sky, the vines grew over and into anything they could grasp, there were no signs of buildings or any man-made structures. Instead, what greeted them besides green, green, and even more green, were two pairs of beady little eyes staring at their form, in what [name] could gather, to be perplexity. They were curious, but at the same time, were keeping their distance.

Monkeys, their mind helpfully supplied. Monkeys that have most likely never seen a human, or a bipedal for that matter, in what I could only assume to be a very long time. 

Deciding to move, they tried to wriggle their fingers, but to no use. It was still stuck, so they left it be for now. Instead, they inspected the pieces of stone gathering around their shoulders, and slowly but surely turned their head, accelerating the process. It's working. More pieces of stone fell from their head and hair, until finally, most of them had already fallen. [name]'s head and neck being free for the most part, they turned it to the side to look for any of her friends. 

Unfortunately, no one could be seen. 

[name] frowned. Not much better than being in that darkness. 

Alright, that's enough. I shouldn't stay stationary for too long. They fought against the restriction caused by the stone, successfully freeing their hands. Then, their arms followed, their upper half, and last but not least, their lower half. They slid down to the floor, sighing. The school uniform as well as the lab coat had completely disappeared from their body, leaving them open. [name] would be more embarrassed, if it weren't for the state of the world they were in.  It shouldn't matter as much as it did before

. 

Still, prioritizing clothes should be pretty high on the list. 

The teenager stood up, walking over to a patch of vines and leaves nearby. They took some and placed them on their body, acting as temporary clothes. It's been so long that their feet had been merged in the ground, and upon their movement, had left heavy footprints. 

Out of nowhere, the loud screeches of other monkeys echoed throughout the forest, making [name] look towards their general direction. The ones that were staring them down a while ago had ran away at the sound, returning the screeches. I should avoid that area, who knows what's there that made them run away in fear. Instead of going towards there, they chose to continue forward. Statues surrounded the teen from all sides, all varying in sizes. Adults and children, all frozen in the very same state they were in prior. Most look to be running away, or at the very least, must have been trying to before they got petrified. Several of them had missing body parts ranging from arms, to legs, to even pieces of their head. Their hands reached out, their expressions horrified, their mouths open to call for help.

But no one came. 

They stopped, head tilting to the side. To their left, they see a person sitting down on what it seems to be tree's huge roots. He was extremely muscular. His abs showed easily, and his whole body was buff. He leaned on his knees, while his long hair was left covering his expression. They weren't close enough to see the rest, but they didn't need to. They already knew who he was, after all.

Shishio Tsukasa, the strongest high school primate. 

Or at the least, that's who he was towards the others. 

However, to [surname] [name], he wasn't that. 

He was only the kind acquaintance who had helped the [hair color]-haired student during his spare time in the library. 

Taking note of the male's location in their head, they returned their gaze forward and journeyed once more. They passed by more statues, more broken pieces, more people frozen in time. More monkeys stayed in the trees and watched the teen carefully, not making any other move or noise. The only thing that [name] could pick up that had continued to change was the lessening of green. The plants, grass and trees were still abundant; however, as they moved further away from their origins, more land began to show itself compared to before.

The statues, just like her feet had been submerged in the dirt, had merged with the mountainside. 

Least to say, it wasn't a pleasant sight. [name] immediately frowned and looked away, not wanting to focus on them any more than they already have. 

Petite hands carefully pushed aside vines that had obstructed their vision, and lo and behold, the next scene made [name] smile and hold a chuckle to themselves.

"I'm going to build everything back up from zero.. A scientific civilization advanced enough to go back to space..!" 

There he was, the man of the hour, kneeling down on one knee. He held a stick in his right hand, and on his left, he held down a log. Like them. his body was covered by a patch of leaves and vines. It seems that they hadn't taken notice of them quite yet. They watched as he spun the stick against the log repeatedly, but to no result. 

Sen-chan's getting frustrated.. 

This time, they couldn't help the chuckle that escaped their lips. 

The sound immediately made Senku stop, and slowly, he turned around. His eyes widened, and the look of disbelief as well as the smallest relief in his red eyes was evident as he called out their name. They smiled at him softly, moving towards his side, just as they had done all those years ago, in the Science Clubroom.

"Sen-chan.. it's been a long while." 

Senku smirked in response, waving offhandedly. "Yeah. Now help me out, won't you?"

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

The taller of the two slumped down to the ground, groans of exhaustion escaping his mouth. [nickname] and I alone can't manage this for very long. The brute strength moron Taiju could do this, and even the handicrafts club's ultra skillful Yuzuriha could manage this no problem. [nickname] probably could spark it up by twisting this stick too, but how am I gonna do it especially with this humid air?! He called for his friend, only to receive no response. Speaking of that shortie..

He looked around. All he did was slump down to rest, and the [hair color]-haired teen was already gone from his sight. Where'd they go? 

Groaning once more, he moved to stand up, but was immediately pushed back down by familiar petite hands. "Rest, Sen-chan." [name] smiled, patting his head affectionately. "We can't have the scientist running out of fuel." Reluctantly, he did as they wished, watching as they sat down on the ground as well. They adjusted their position for a few moments, before bringing out.. a flower crown? 

Senku deadpanned, not able to hold back his grumpy retort. "Out of all the things you could have made, you made a flower crown. Really, [nickname]?" They laughed in response as they placed it on his head and fixing his hair. "I just wanted to know what your reaction was gonna be if I showed that first, Sen-chan. That's not just all I did, don't worry.." With a smile, [name] moved aside to show the objects sitting on the ground behind them, making Senku's smirk from earlier return.

Different kinds of rock have different uses. Chert is hard as hell, which makes it perfect for making a small knife out of. 

"Already way ahead of me, huh?" 

We'll investigate everything, and experiment with it all!

Taking the objects in his hold, he turned back to the teen. They stood, smiling and waiting for his next move. They were ahead of him, as if they shared the same brain he did. As if they were already connected to begin with. 

I don't have claws or fangs. All I have is my steady, straight-forward ingenuity and them.

[nickname], the jack of all trades, but master of none, my friend and assistant.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

"Will you do the honors?" 

Not bothering with a reply, [name] neared the log and with barely any difficult, twisted the stick quickly. Smoke began to appear, so they stopped, buried it into a pile of leaves, and blew, watching as the fire slowly but surely spread. Senku, with the use of the axe that the shorter had made, quickly cut down more pieces of wood, before adding them to the lit up pile. A grin spreading on his face, he stared it down along with the [hair color]-haired teen. 

There are a surprising number of animals that use tools. Crows, racoons, orangutans. But, of all species in this world.. there is only one that uses science! 

"Generating heat from the oxidation of gas released from cellulose. In other words.. combustion." 

[name]'s eyes stayed on the flames. The gradient colors sought their attention and refused to let it go from their grasp. It danced along with the calm whispers of the wind. Not turning their head, they spoke, "Sen-chan, you have a goal don't you?" For once, their voice had wavered, uncertainty seeping through. So much uncertainty that he couldn't help but detest the sound of it. 

It was strange and illogical, especially considering he had wanted an inkling of emotion to show through aside from just that dead smile. But now.. the sight was detestable. Nonchalantly, he faced them, turning his whole body. He picked at his ear using his pinky and replied, "Of course I do. I'm going to restore the civilization from before, and then I'll proceed with my end-goal."

The same smile appeared on their face.

Senku supposed it was better than hearing doubt and uncertainty. 

"I figured you'd say that." Turning their head, the small smile he had gotten used to.. was gone. 

Instead, what replaced is a genuine grin, full of hope, happiness, and whole-hearted belief. "I have no doubt that you'll reach that goal. No, I'll ensure it. Ishigami Senku will reach his goal, and I will utilize myself so." 

[name]'s whisper barely audible to his ears, but despite that, their voice and words echoed like a broken record throughout his head, unending. Yet, despite the determination and positivity it was supposed to bring, it brought a bit of the unexpected. His stomach did flips and flutters, dread and apprehension seeping in his bones.

 Stop wording it like that, he wanted to say. I don't like it.

He couldn't bring himself to do that, and instead, faked a grin in return.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

Since then, the two had worked together for days on end. On the way, they had achieved not only clothing, but a decent settlement up on the tree. It wasn't anything fancy, however, it wasn't too shabby either. 

"Kukuku, the birth of every boy's dream treehouse! Now, we've finally collected all the necessities for survival." Senku spoke triumphantly, staring up at the building they had made. [name], a flower-crown adorning their head, adjusted their matching skirt from beside him, smiling. "Sen-chan did a good job.." 

He chuckled dryly, "You say that as if you didn't do half of the stuff we needed to do without me saying anything." His smirk was stripped from his face as he continued blankly, "Now then.. It's about time. My 'ignoring all fatigue would be most logical' switch is at its limit.." With that, he collapsed completely, expecting to land harshly on the ground, but was pleasantly surprised to land on [name]'s arms instead. They adjusted his body gently, making sure that he was comfortable as they smiled down at him, shaking their head in amusement. They pat their skirt before sitting down, relaxing.

Senku, too tired to complain, just let his body lay in their hold. Damn it, even with [nickname] here.. Just surviving is taking every ounce of energy out of me. Let alone time for science progress.. I can't just let them do all the work. They'll get burnt out too, as much as they try to hide it. His nose scrunched at the thought. That'd be a bad scenario. If worst comes to worst for me, at least [nickname] will be able to cover in my stead. But if it happens to them instead, I wouldn't be able to do the same. I'm lucky that they could even catch animals often while doing manual labor. 

If there was at least one more person.. someone with lots of physical strength and stamina. Someone who wasn't either of us.

"You know, Sen-chan, we both started from the area we got petrified in, right?" This time, [name]'s smile was knowing. "Perhaps we should pay Tai-chan a visit?" Senku smirked up at them for the nth time, "You just read my mind." They carefully pulled him up, dusting his shoulders and skirt as they did. 

A few minutes of walking later, they watched as Senku walked again towards the hand reaching out from the ground. He begins digging, making [name] follow suit. Slowly but surely, they uncovered the statue, revealing it to be Taiju. This was the very same expression he had three millennia ago when he had gotten petrified. [name] assumed that he was protecting Yuzuriha just as Senku had tried to, but got separated just as they had.

[eye color] eyes softened as they see the quick relieved expression that passed by his face.

He stared down at their friend in silence, smirking not too long after. "Kukuku," he snickered, "Now there's a face I was so sick of seeing, I never thought I'd want to see again." [name] shook their head in amusement. What a lie, Sen-chan. "It's been a good long 3,700 years, hasn't it, you big clumsy oaf?" 

Senku repeatedly tapped on the face of Taiju's statue, beaming innocently. "And now it's time for Senku's Investigation Lab to begin! C'mon, you oaf.. What's it gotta take to get you to revive like [name] and I did?" Wait.. speaking of [nickname], red eyes glanced over at the shorter's form, who merely sat on their knees, looking at the sky. I haven't asked for the details of their revival yet. 

Sensing the male's stare, [name] instantly turned their head to him and tilted their head. What is it? They seem to be asking. "About your revival.. I haven't asked about the details yet. Mind telling me?" Was it dark for you as it was for me? Were you keeping yourself conscious 24/7? I was holding on for my goal, but how about you..? What on Earth could have kept you going so much that you ended up going as far as to wait 3,700 years just as I had done? 

"It was dark." His eyes snapped back to their body, finding them to be looking at the sky once more. "I hated it there, because I was alone and it felt cold. I was really lonely." He wasn't usually keen on affection, but.. Senku couldn't help but feel sad, and gave their shoulder a pat. They didn't sound saddened, and somehow, that alone was enough to make him feel sympathy. [nickname].. Softer than he had intended, he asked again, "What kept you going?" 

The tiny frown and the smallest of shrugs is what he received, and the taller couldn't help but feel aghast. "I'm not sure. I just imagined seeing you guys on the other end of the road.. and somehow, that alone was enough. I knew you were going to be alive even back then, because that's just how Sen-chan is." Senku snickered, "You're not wrong there. Your assumption, as illogical as it would be for other people, is ten billion percent correct." 

He turned back to Taiju and waved offhandedly, as if shooing away the [hair color]-haired teenager's worries away from them. "Don't worry about it now. Let's make that a temporary goal of ours, and I'll help you out. That's the least I can do for you, considering you did most of the manual labor to get us where we are right now." 

[name] smiled thankfully. "What are your possible theories, Sen-chan?" The taller of the two stared at the ground in thought. "I have quite a few." 

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

Not long after he had explained, they walked back to Senku's spot of origin. The two had figured that it was an external source, and so, here they were, standing in front of a cave. Just like everything else, the entrance of the cave was overrun with vines and roots from the tree above, but fortunately enough for them, the opening was not occupied to the point of no enter. 

The stone pieces closest to our heads had fallen first, with further pieces laying on top of them. In other words, when we had revived, it started from my head first. There must be some kind of key behind that direction! Red eyes widened as he caught sight of dripping from above. "Nitric acid.." Mumbled the shorter, making Senku nod in acknowledgement.

The male faced his [hair color]-haired friend. "Do you have any body parts that are still left petrified?" They nodded to his question, exposing their shoulder behind their clothing, revealing one medium-sized covering of stone. "Geez, you were doing manual labor even with a stoned shoulder? You should have told me." [Name] cheekily grinned at his grumbled response, replying, "No use grumbling about that now," with a giggle. "Besides, it only aches. It doesn't hurt like a wound or bruise would." 

Senku rolled his eyes. Sometimes, he gets exasperated at the cheekiness of his friend. Honestly, the male turned back towards the dripping nitric acid. "Should I try it out with my shoulder?" They were surprised to receive a shake of his head. "No, it's better if you don't. If it goes wrong, you'll most definitely get affected negatively. That'll hinder our efforts and progress, not to mention you'll likely to get hurt." Instead, the scientist plucked a few strands of hair from the back of his neck, where small pieces of stone had stuck. 

[name] watched as Senku walked forward towards the nitric acid and holding the hair strand out. Upon contact, the stone immediately burst into pieces. The grins on the two's faces matched as they made eye-contact. Immediately, the assistant rushed off to get a jar they had made and handed it to him, watching as the nitric acid started piling up within. 

Not too long after they had placed the jar underneath it, the nitric acid had been filled almost completely, and Senku rushed to take it from the younger's hold. He splashed it on Taiju's face and sit down criss-cross, waiting. [name], after patting their skirt, sat on their knees beside him. They waited in silence, expecting the third person of their quartet to wake up. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Nothing. 

Senku looked at the statue in confusion. Deciding to wait a bit more, he started whistling familiar songs out of boredom, [name]'s humming harmonizing with it. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Senku's face started contorting weirdly, making the shorter of the two of them choke and laugh. "Sen-chan, your faces are still as weird as ever." He grumbled in response, saying, "Don't laugh at me." This only proved to make them chuckle more. 

After a short snickering fit, they turned serious once more, facing the statue of Taiju. "It isn't that easy then.. Something between us and him must be different." They shared a nod. Senku rushes back to their investigation lab, leaving [name] behind. The said teenager quickly took out more jars and placed them on the ground. They placed the first one under it before backing away, looking around for something to do. 

Now that they look closely, there were flowers here too. 

Taking it into their hands, they started skillfully weaving a flower crown. Occasionally, they'd get up and take replace the jar before going back to their sitting position and continuing the flower crown. With all the jars filled and covered with animal cloth, they carefully balanced it within their hold, walking ever so slowly back to their destination. 

By the time they arrived, Senku had multiple birds on the floor. Tiny amounts of nitric acid were noticeable on them just as much as there were on some statue's heads, making it evident that he had been experimenting with the amount they had gathered prior. Senku sat criss-cross on the floor, frustrated with the lack of progress. Why did the nitric acid only work on us? He pressed his two fingers on the side of his forehead. It didn't have a single effect on Taiju, the swallows, or any of the statues I tested it on.. But why?!

What's the difference between them and us? Think! Even just a hypothesis is fine! Think! Thi—

clink, clink, clink 

His thoughts, interrupted by the sounds of three jars gently being put down, caught his attention, making his red eyes dart over to [name]. They stared at him, blinking slowly. Their presence immediately brought an idea to his head, and soon, he sat up hurriedly, escaping to the cave of nitric acid they had found. What he left behind was a smiling [name], having pieced together his string of thought. 

I've figured it out! 3,700 years.. that whole time, we were both still fully conscious! 

The brain burns about 400kals a day. Over three thousand and seven hundred years, that comes out to over two trillion joules of energy.

[name] hummed, sitting down and looking down on the sky.

E=mc² is the foundation of science. Energy can never be created from nothing!

He breathed heavily, but did not stop, not until he had arrived at the entrance of the cave, staring. 

That means.. that if Senku-chan / [nickname] and I can get rid of that something, then he/we can undo the petrification!

For now, the of us have got to experiment. It doesn't matter what. We just have to keep experimenting!

[name] sighed, picking at their fingers. There would only be one conclusion that they would resort to until Senku is able to recover their friends back.

On the other side, Senku poured the rest of the remaining nitric acid to bigger containers, sweat increasing by the second. I really wanted to try nital, the standard industrial corrosive agent.. Damn it, I don't have any alcohol.. It's so frustrating! 

"Just believe, Sen-chan.."

A smile. 

Another whisper lost to the wind. 

Keep experimenting.. Keep experimenting.. Keep experimenting! The phrase repeated itself in his head like a chant, beckoning him, tempting him, no, making him do it. 

Senku bit harshly into his thumb swiping it on his collar right after. Don't forget.. No matter how much this petrification seems like fantasy.. 

"No matter how long," they mumbled. "Sen-chan will achieve it. I believe in him, and I'm sure they do too." They dusted off their skirt after they moved from their position. A short walk towards the cave, they see Senku struggling with Taiju in his hold. "There is not enough manpower around here, even with you and me, [nickname]." Senku panted out.

"That's why you gotta hurry up and eat that nitric acid to wake up already! The hell's taking you so long, you scruffy-headed scatter-brained oaf? Your little sibling will collapse if they continue to work this hard unsupervised!" He stepped not too harshly on Taju's head, making [name] shake their head. "That's an exaggeration, Sen-chan," they grumbled.

"Is not," he replied right back. 

They rolled their eyes in reply, making Senku snicker. 

"Besides," he turned back to the statue, "I know you want to wake up too! For the past three thousand and seven hundred years, you've wanted it.. because you're just like me and [name]. You can't stand to give on anything, especially with a goal!"

Senku grit his teeth and continued, "I believe in you. [name] believes in you. We both believe in you, and we'll wait as long as it takes.. because neither of us can't do this without you." 

Various emotions showed on his face, from sadness to want. The shorter of the two placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling before speaking in sync, 

"Come back, Taiju!"

[annhellsing]

A Hundred Demons

notes: i accidentally deleted my other naraku fic so have some uhhh questionable romantic liaisons rating: teen, there’s some making out but nothing heavier pairing: naraku / reader word count: 1,796

You pry up the cellar door and flinch at the smell of decay. The castle festers at its core, exacerbated by Naraku’s transformation.

He detests this state, but the struggle of holding his body together is prolonged by denying it. His most precious asset is his ability to reforge flesh, And for this process he prefers to be alone. You know that. Still, you descend.

The smell is worse with your feet in the dirt. You’re careful not to grip the ladder too tightly, should your grip make the brittle wood crumble. You closed the hatch before climbing down, the only light now from the cracks around its edges.

It’s barely enough to make out the mass in the centre of the room, but your eyes adjust. A wriggling, pulsing thing blinks it’s single eye. Then, another tendril uncoils slowly, as if in sleep. Knotted together and writhing as one are a hundred demons.

At their centre is his head, bowed in sleep.

You feel a lurching sensation, a knee jerk reaction to the dirt in the cellar. It feels like old, dried blood beneath your feet. The corruption has seeped into the support beams of the cellar. You doubt the place would stand on its own if not for his magic.

Blinking slowly, you wait for the head to notice you. A demon’s maw lolls open, it’s fleshy tongue poking out at you before it also succumbs to sleep. Naraku’s body twitches unnaturally, and then his true head finally moves.

You see two red eyes beneath his black fringe. His skin is so pale, white in the shadows like a death mask. He sneers in your direction, seeing nothing but darkness and the faint outline of a person.

“Kagura?” he snarls. His eyesight is poor when he’s in pieces. Naraku inhales sharply, recognizing the new blood that woke him is human.

“No,” you reply, “it’s me.”

“Hm,” he grunts. It’s difficult to tell if he’s still angry. “I did not summon you.”

You shift your weight to your hip, hazarding to step closer. No doubt he’s irked at his sleep being interrupted, but you understand that his desires are always a double-edged sword. Regardless of your actions, it’s his natural state to be displeased.

“I missed you,” is the only excuse you can offer. 

You half expect him to dismiss it as pathetic, but instead Naraku hides his shock beneath a grimace. 

“I didn’t think you were foolish enough to disturb me as I regenerate,” he finally tries, though it lacks the bite you know he can have.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” your chin is still raised to look at him. But Naraku understands that it is at once both practical and an act of defiance. Despite that, he can’t bring himself to lash out.

Instead, he laughs. It’s like dark water, pulling you in a few more steps. You’re lulled into a half-way sense of safety, worried less for your own bodily health. Perhaps it’s too soon, you fear. But Naraku seems unwilling to pin you with cruelty.

“Of course, I suppose I am the one who disturbs,” he says, “at least, for the time being.”

His cheeks are gaunt and heavy bags hang under his eyes. He looks tired, his voice is barely more than a reedy breeze. He creaks more than he speaks. You move even closer, until your toes touch the edge of the mountain of demons.

Naraku’s head is supported by a nexus of thick, gray tubes. His hair is entwined with the cellar rafters. He is hideous, you can admit that, and yet you shake your head.

“Do I not terrify you?” he asks, sounding more amused than shocked or angered by your lack of reaction. He does so love fear. “Most can’t bear to look.”

“Have many people seen you like this?” you ask, cocking your head to the side. You kneel on the body of the demon at your feet, using it as a stepping stone to get to the second.

Naraku makes a dismissive noise, unwilling to grace your question with an answer. He lacks one that will prove his point, and that annoys him.

“I thought as much,” you reply, “Kagura’s opinion hardly counts, in that case.” The demons are foul to the touch, but you manage to climb them one by one. Naraku stays terribly still as you do so, waiting and watching to see what you’ll do. 

“And yours does?” he asks. A hint of thank ink-black, cruel humour creeps into his voice again. Still, you don’t flinch. He wonders if you might wish to hear him laugh again.

“Generally yes,” you kneel on the back of a sturdier demon, your eyes at level with his. “As I’m your lover,” you’re close enough for him to smell your blood, and the hummingbird beat of your heart. 

You’re fragile, he thinks. But then again, so is he. And you’re looking at him with the worst kind of adoration a creature like him can fathom. Still, in his chest that’s now in pieces on the cellar floor, his heart that was once human lurches in your direction.

“You make a compelling argument,” Naraku decides. There is still a sharpness in his eyes, and it comes from ugly fear. You’re close enough that in a single, violent motion he could be dead. And your knife could be bloody.

But you keep your hands on your knees, looking at him with your head tilted. You move slowly, as if you know exactly what he’s afraid of. Maybe he has a right to be unnerved by this, but that won’t make you stop.

You lift your hands and put them on his cheeks, wiping dirt and grime from his face. His thin lips turn up into a smirk. He is a monster, a hateful, terrifying beast of hell and still you lean in to kiss him.

Your lips are human and soft. You’re warmed through, not disquietingly clammy the way he is. But you seem not to notice. You seem to reach through the haze of evil energy and the smell of decay to find the spark of heat belonging to Onigumo. That bit of life that makes you love him so.

He drags his tongue across your bottom lip, demanding out of habit that he be granted entry. Naraku gets what he wants, he’s used to that. So when you press your mouth closed, making a tight seal that his sharp teeth can’t break-- his eyes open.

“Did you come here only to torment me?” he asks, pulling away enough to be coherent. But he’s still so close.

He’s never felt more like an insect than when chasing your warmth. Naraku has looked on at moths flying headlong to their death, toward fire and now he understands why. It’s addictive, your humanity. It’s like a song that he could fall into.

He wishes he had arms, that’s what the longing in his displaced chest is telling him. He’ll wrap you up and keep you with him for hours when he’s finished remaking his body. And you won’t be able to deny him a thing.

But for now, you look at him with an amused expression he does not appreciate. You have ideas above your station and too little fear for his taste. At least, until you press your lips to his again.

It seems you grant him permission to deepen the kiss now, though he doesn’t know what’s changed. He’s the same as he was a minute ago, just as breathless and horrible to behold. Perhaps you simply wanted to prove you could control him.

That thought is simultaneously gut-wrenching and delicious. Naraku doesn’t know which is worse.

The smell of rot doesn’t register as pervasively, you notice. You put your hands in his long, black hair and drag his severed head against your mouth. Your fingers brush gray-mottled tendons and pale flesh. 

He’s making decisions about which parts of him to keep even as he accepts your kiss, but he’s working a lot slower than before you arrived.

You have a nice time ruining his solitary confinement, sneaking kisses over his cold flesh. You try your best to warm him, he realizes, and the sentiment is unhelpfully pleasant. He loses count of how many times he needs to reconsider his decision to discard part of himself, you’re a beautiful distraction.

“I’m inhibiting you,” you say when you finally pause to breathe. He mirrors the action, struck very suddenly by how distant the need to do so was with your mouth to his jaw.

“Deeply,” he replies.

“My apologies,” you say, bowing your head. “I really did miss you.”

“If it would please you,” he begins, making you lift your head, “you may stay a while longer.”

“It would please me,” you reply. You kiss the corner of his mouth, moving too quickly for his poor vision to see. “I’ll be still as a mouse so you can be done sooner.”

Naraku closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before nodding. You can feel a shift in the cellar as he goes back to sleep. So much for parting remarks, you suppose. But he isn’t one for affection, especially not when vulnerable.

You sit back on your knees, watching his severed head hang from the rafters. And the sight, to your intense displeasure, inspires no fear. You know what he is, who he is, and still you make yourself comfortable.

Somewhere in the space between Naraku regrowing his neck and shoulders, you too succumb to sleep. The dark, cool cellar fades away, as does the smell of rot. You lean against the old wooden wall, the demons underfoot don’t bother you.

By nightfall, he’s finished. And you, his lover, lie curled up on the packed earth. His body is as it was, but now it’s much stronger. He feels better, more in control and sturdy. As much as he would like to look down on you with vague disgust brewing in his now rightly-placed heart, he can’t.

You’re roused hours later, somewhere just as dark but less oppressively macabre. You’re not in the cellar any more, you know by the smell. The wet, old air is cleaner in this new place.

Your fingers brush the floor, no longer made of packed earth. It’s tatami, you realize, the same tatami found in Naraku’s private chamber. 

Sitting up, you realize how warm you are in this new place. Even in the blue-dark, you can’t feel anyone else’s eyes on you. You’re alone. 

You look down next, wondering what’s covering you. You didn’t bring anything when you climbed down the ladder. But thrown over your chest, undisturbed by your heavy sleep is a white cloak of baboon fur.

[sunflowersupremes]

Eyes Bigger than your Stomach

Read on AO3

Series: A/B/O Ficlets

Geralt wasn’t certain why the Omega was still following him. He kept expecting the man to leave, after they’d gotten out of Gullet where he was in imminent danger, but Dandelion had only continued to trail after him. Even in Posada, where they’d been captured by elves, he hadn’t once seemed to regret his decision to follow Geralt.

After their narrow escape, they found themselves in a small tavern at a nearby trading post, where Dandelion was more than happy to purchase a room for them both (since Geralt had given all of his coin to the elves). After their room was settled away for the night Geralt made his way upstairs to it, while Dandelion remained behind, playing his newest ballad for the tavern crowd.

The Witcher checked his weapons and potions, making certain that everything was in order and in its proper place, before digging into his meager supplies for something to eat.

“Ugh,” came a voice from the door. “You aren’t actually going to eat that, are you?” Dandelion, his lute thrown over one shoulder, was standing in the doorway with two plates of food in hand.

Geralt didn’t know what to say other than a weak thank you as the bard handed him one of the plates, then made himself at home on the floor in front of the fire. Geralt joined him after a moment, crouching down beside him as the bard unbuttoned his jacket, exposing the loose fitting chemise he wore underneath.

Geralt looked away before he was distracted by the scent glands on his shoulder, marked with a mess of healing bites that catalogued his previous lovers.

“Rations are fine and good on the road,” said Dandelion, slurping up his stew, “but when in town, it’s always preferable to get a warm, fresh meal, don’t you agree?”

The Witcher nodded, understanding that Dandelion didn’t really want him to speak. The Omega was still chattering on, passing on bits of gossip he’d picked up downstairs, even hinting that one of the locals claimed the next village over was having monster problems.

“Could be worth looking into,” muttered Geralt around a mouthful of stew.

Dandelion hummed happily, rolling his shoulders and yawning. He glanced around, as though looking for something to lean on, then choose Geralt, leaning his shoulder against Geralt’s side. The Witcher froze, barely remembering to breathe.

The scent of the Omega flooded his lungs, sweet like honey and flowers - cornflowers, he thought, and chamomile - and Geralt wondered if he ought to run. Did the man have any idea what he was doing? Dandelion barely knew him and yet he was cuddling up to him as though they were great pals.

Suddenly remembering his food, Geralt took a bite. Dandelion didn’t seem to have noticed his pause, too consumed in his own meal. He ripped up pieces of bread and dunked it into his bowl, then shoved them into his mouth. Slowly, his eyes meeting Geralt’s, he licked his fingers.

The Witcher looked away.

It was becoming increasingly obvious what the Omega wanted, and Geralt resisted the urge to pull away from him. It wasn’t that Geralt didn’t want him - you’d have to be blind not to realize how pretty he truly was, with his blonde curls and huge blue eyes - but he had a feeling that Dandelion had no idea what he was getting into.

They finished their meal in silence, and Dandelion gathered up the plates, carrying them back out of their room. When he returned he shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on a peg beside the door. “Here,” he said as Geralt tried not to openly gawk at his exposed skin. “You’ve got something on your cheek.” He reached out, no doubt intending to wipe away whatever was on Geralt’s face.

Geralt’s hand shot out and tightened around his wrist. “Don’t play coy, poetaster.”

“If you want me to stop,” Dandelion said quietly, “then all you have to do is tell me.”

He let go of Dandelion’s thin wrist, giving a slight shake of his head. “You don’t know what you’re proposing.”

“Sex, Geralt, I’m proposing sex.” Suddenly Dandelion was in his lap, giving him a wide eyed and innocent smile, the scent of arousal hanging heavily in the air around him. His hand, which had somehow escaped the Witcher’s grip, rubbed at the spot on his cheek. Geralt knew that he ought to push him away, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

But it seemed Dandelion had caught the unease in his eye, and he tilted his head, quietly asking, “Am I making you uncomfortable, Geralt?”

“No,” the Witcher admitted quietly, “But-”

“Oh I know what you’re about to say,” snorted the poet. “Something about how you’re inhuman, is that it?”

It should disturb him how easily Dandelion read him. “Is that your game, bard?” Geralt asked. “You want to know what it’s like to be fucked by a mutant?”

“Nonsense,” said Dandelion. “I find your personality charming and your voice pleasing. The scent of you is absolutely divine - what I can smell of it, under the scent of the road - and even your face isn’t as bad as I’m certain you believe it is.”

He didn’t seem to be lying, but Geralt was still uneasy. “I would hurt you,” he said quietly. “You-”

“Oh gods damn it, Geralt, is that it? You think I’m some delicate flower?”

Geralt tilted his head, unable to help the slightest of smiles. “Well, your name is Dandelion,” he pointed out. “And you are rather small.”

The Omega scowled. “I’m not delicate,” he sneered. “And I know you want me, as much as I want you, I saw your eyes on me.”

“It’s hard not to stare,” Geralt informed him bluntly, “as I’m certain that you’re aware.”

“I’m very aware of my own beauty, but I will accept further compliments at any time.”

Geralt snorted. Whats the harm? He wondered, tilting his head and studying his young companion. Perhaps getting what he want would teach Dandelion to think things through, make him realize that just because he wanted to bed someone didn’t make it a good idea.

Slowly he reached out and took Dandelion’s wrist, then moved to it hold over his own crotch. “Are you certain your eyes aren’t too big for your stomach, or, in this case, your ass?”

Dandelion’s eyes gleamed hungrily. Instead of responding verbally he groped Geralt’s cock, rubbing his fingers over the sensitive flesh. “I know exactly what I want.”

“Undress for me then,” said Geralt.

“No.” Dandelion hopped out of his lap and onto the bed, sprawling out on his back against the headboard. “But you can undress for me, if you’d like.”

Geralt stood slowly, turning to study the smirking Omega. He’s toying with me, Geralt realized. I- I believe he wants me to put him in his place, although I’m not certain he would mind if I didn’t.

Geralt’s experience with Omegas was extremely limited. There weren’t any Omega Witchers - they had stopped making Witchers long before the Omegas had gained any rights, when people still looked down on them - and Omega whores charged extra, so he usually went for Betas. But what he did know, was that Dandelion was unusually mouthy, even for Omegas of his age, born after the Omega rights movement.

The Omega watched him as he considered his next move, his cornflower blue eyes gleaming.

“Get up,” Geralt said quietly. “If I have to say it again…”

Dandelion leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “What?” he asked.

“I won’t fuck you.”

The bard’s mouth fell open. Clearly that wasn’t what he’d been expecting, but it prompted him into movement and he jumped off the bed, pulling at his chemise all the while muttering about rude and controlling Alphas.

Geralt felt himself smile as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching as the bard put his chemise aside and started working on his pants.

His mouth watered at the smell coming from Dandelion, the bard clearly having worked himself up into a strong arousal just from Geralt’s few words. Soon he was entirely naked, standing in front of Geralt with his hands on his hips, head cocked to the side.

“Go ahead,” he said cheerfully, “Admire, me, I know I’m quite the sight to behold.”

He was, if Geralt was honest. Slender and pale, with just enough fat to make it worth grabbing. Already half hard, his cock hung between his legs, larger than Geralt had expected from an Omega.

“Come here.”

Dandelion didn’t need to be told twice, launching himself at Geralt, landing in the Witcher’s lap and wrapping his legs around his waist. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” he complained, his fingers beginning to pull at the laces of Geralt’s breeches as he buried his face in his scent gland.

Geralt cupped his ass, feeling the slick that was dripping from him. Thankfully, he was spared from having to make any further decisions by Dandelion who began removing Geralt’s clothes for him, pushing the Witcher onto his back as he undressed him.

The Omega made quick work of his clothes, dropping them onto the floor. Then, once Geralt was naked, he lined himself up with his cock, but before he could drop himself down on him, Geralt grabbed him and rolled them both over, pinning Dandelion beneath him.

“I don’t need stretched!” the bard protested noisily as Geralt ran his hands between his legs, feeling at his hole. “Geralt-”

“We do this my way or not at all, Dandelion.”

Dandelion huffed and rolled his eyes, then lifted his legs, grabbing the backs of his knees to expose himself for Geralt. The Witcher slowly rubbed his finger over Dandelion’s dripping hole, then pressed it inside, pleased at the lack of resistance. He pressed in a finger from his other hand, then slowly pulled his fingers apart. Dandelion let out a long groan as Geralt opened him up, the noise turning frantic as he felt the Witcher’s hot breath on his opening.

“Oh gods,” he moaned as Geralt’s tongue licked inside him. “Oh- please-”

The whole inn was going to hear him if he kept it up. They’d already been stared at when they entered, a small, delicate looking Omega with a black eye alongside a surly Witcher, it wasn’t hard to imagine what people would think. “Quiet little Omega,” Geralt murmured.

“But-”

He could imagine Dandelion’s pout at denied.  “If you’re quiet, I’ll fuck you in the woods and you can make as much noise as you like.” Geralt wasn’t entirely certain why he was already offering the man more, when, in all honesty, he shouldn’t have let it get as far as it had gotten already. But Geralt would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying himself. He buried his face between Dandelion’s legs, pressing kisses to his cock and balls, all the while continuing to finger his hole until the blanket beneath him was drenched in slick.

Only when he was confident that Dandelion was as loose as he was going to get did Geralt sit up.

“Oh finally,” moaned the bard. “Come on, Alpha, give me your cock.”

Geralt rolled Dandelion over, rubbing his back as the bard shivered with anticipation. Slowly he began to thrust his cock between the bard’s ass cheeks, drawing out a series of soft whimpers. “Geeeraaalt-”

“Hmm?”

“I want your knot,” said the Omega. “And I’m accustomed to getting what I want.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” warned Geralt. Dandelion was too small, slender and breakable. Geralt didn’t want to hurt him.

“I want-”

“No.”

Dandelion huffed. “Then you had better give me a good fuck, at least.”

Geralt grabbed Dandelion’s hips, pulling him back until his chest was flat on the bed, his ass elevated and half in the Witcher’s lap. For a long moment he kneaded Dandelion’s asscheeks, then slowly lifted his hips and pressed inside.

The bard let out a startled gasp that ended in a choking noise as his body struggled to accommodate Geralt’s girth. “By all the gods, you’re huge!”

Geralt stilled, rubbing his thumbs in small circles on Dandelion’s hips. “Are you alright?”

“Alright?” squeaked Dandelion. “You’re splitting me in half, Geralt, and it’s absolutely divine.”

Geralt shook his head. He began to slowly thrust in and out of the velvety heat, enjoying the soft whimpers it was pulling from the Omega (who had his face buried in the blankets to muffle any noises). It was clear the man was uncomfortable from Geralt’s size, particularly as his thrusts increased in speed and ferocity, but it didn’t seem to dampen his enthusiasm.

He leaned over and pressed his lips to Dandelion’s neck, licking at the scent gland on his neck, overlapping the healing marks from previous lovers. It made him feel at least a bit possessive to see all the marks, and his body craved adding his own.

Geralt ran his tongue over Dandelion’s neck, at the same time bringing a hand around to fondle the man’s cock.

“Bite me,” pleaded the bard. “Please, Geralt, bite me.”

It was impossible to refuse such a plea. Geralt sunk his teeth into Dandelion’s neck until he tasted blood. The bard muffed his sob of delight in the pillows, his ass clenching as he spilled over Geralt’s hand.

It seemed he really loved pain, and Geralt couldn’t help his own reaction to the man’s happiness.

His orgasm washed over him, nearly catching him off guard. In that moment there was nothing that his body wanted more than to pin Dandelion down and knot him, force his cum to remain inside him. Even if he couldn’t breed the poet, that didn’t mean he didn’t desperately want to try.

But remembering the pained noises Dandelion had already made, Geralt forced his body to relax, taking several deep breaths.

“Please knot me,” sobbed the Omega, wiggling in Geralt’s grasp. “Please, please, please, fill me up.”

Geralt rubbed his back, pulling out of Dandelion’s hole. “Next time,” he found himself saying. “Next time, I’ll knot you.”

“In the woods?” the bard asked hopefully. “So I can scream?”

Geralt snorted. “If you wish.”

[jcolden]

     ❝𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚❞

                  – – a Julian Colden playlist.

1. “What It Means To Be Alone” The Dear Hunter

Oh, you were born with the sun And oh, you will die with the moon And everything you thought you had you lost But now you'd never lose what you don't have

Prayers from above Never answered quite enough Looking up Never offered you too much Now the only one you have is you

2. “If G-D Don’t Follow Me (Down This Road)” Trubdr. Adam Road, Danielle Parente

If God don't follow me down this road If God don't follow me down this road

When you try to live You want to die When everything you feel collides God don't follow me Down this road Down this road

3. “Hellfire” Barns Courtney

Run in an alleyway through a dead end street Murdering promises that I just can't keep We could sing pretty melodies On the unmade bed Slow-dancing to a silhouette Cause I ain't dead yet

Ain't no chariots of fire come to take me home I'm lost in the woods and I wander on

Hellfire, hellfire, take my soul I'm waiting, waiting, I'm ready to go Yeah, mothers, children, lock your doors I'm waiting I'm ready to go

4. “Bible Belt” Dry The River

You say "My love, you take the cards that you're dealt ‘Cause there's no guiding light arching a line to Bethlehem If it's dark outside, you light the fire yourself."

Darling, when the ice caps melt When the devil's in the bible belt Don't cower in your bed

I'll be on the 545 You can meet me at the railway line And don't look so scared

‘Cause we've been through worse than this before we could talk The trick of it is don't be afraid anymore Oh, the trick of it is don’t be afraid anymore

5. “Lord Have Mercy” Empires

I think I see things some other way I think I've marched as an angel into the devil's cage I wanna fuck up society and piss in its grave I wanna love somebody in a selfless way

It's time for the end and beginning to meet Time for what I lost to come back to me I wanna challenge my death by coming back to life I'm gonna do it all over, gonna make things right

Lord have mercy Lord have mercy Lord have mercy On me

6. “Grip” Seeb, Bastille

We got drunk on this unholy wine To deliver us from our own minds The promise of a better time 'Til we’re feeling barely human

We don’t know what’s good for us 'Cause if we did, we might not do it Who knows where our limits lie? We won’t discover ‘til we push it

'Cause the devil's got my arms And it pulls me back into the night And I should just walk away, away But it grips me 'Cause the devil's got my arms And it pulls me back into the night 'Cause the devil's got my arms And it pulls me back into the night

I would rather forget and wash my memory clean Oh, I would rather forget and wash my memory clean I would rather forget (would rather forget) Wash my memory clean Oh, I would rather forget And wash my memory clean

7. “That’s What Heaven Feels Like” The Dirty Nil

I'm a million impulse decisions tonight Back in the city, howling, but I won't bite Bored of a certain safety Got me a death wish, baby

No, I don't believe in the long romance No, no, no Crash, leave a flaming vapor trail and Maybe one slow dance 'Cause you wouldn't know how it feels Under the tread of your wheels

Caught up like a canine Howling in your headlights Rolling through the windshield That's what heaven feels like

8. “Arsonist’s Lullabye” Hozier

When I was sixteen, my senses fooled me Thought gasoline was on my clothes I knew that something would always rule me I knew this scent was mine alone

All you have is your fire And the place you need to reach Don't you ever tame your demons Always keep them on a leash

When I was a man, I thought it ended When I knew love's perfect ache But my peace has always depended On all the ashes in my wake

9. “Let Me In” Snowmine

If you could you keep it together For a moment in time Then you'd see that I'd be Your excuse for a lover Your own mountain to climb You would see

I left my shoes under your bed But I left my body outside How did I get back into this mess? I kept telling myself the temptations would do me in And they did

10. “Heaven Help Us” My Chemical Romance

And will you pray for me? Or make a saint of me? And will you lay for me? Or make a saint of…

'Cause I'll give you all the nails you need Cover me in gasoline Wipe away those tears of blood again And the punchline to the joke is asking Someone save us

Heaven help us now Come crashing down And hear the sound As you fall

You don’t know a thing about my sins How the misery begins You don’t know So I’m burning, I’m burning I’m burning I’m burning again

11. “Strength Of The World” Avenged Sevenfold

Avenge the dead Killed all who crossed me in my path Suicidal I never planned on coming back I want it, I need it Revenge is dripping from my teeth Need nothing to feel power And bring the killers to their knees Nothing to lose, vengeance to gain (You know I’ll never be the same) So taste my breath, I'm close behind you (So desperate on your final day) Sorrow swallows my screams

Strength of the world is on my shoulders Strength of the world is on my side Strength of the world The one true beholder Ice in my veins for those who'll die

I've seen my family fade away You've taken my whole life There's nothing left to say

12. “We Are Nowhere And It’s Now” Bright Eyes

If you hate the taste of wine Why do you drink it 'till you're blind? And if you swear that there's no truth and who cares How come you say it like you're right? Why are you scared to dream of God When it's salvation that you want? You see stars that clear have been dead for years But the idea just lives on

I got no plans and too much time I feel too restless to unwind I'm always lost in thought As I walk a block To my favorite neon sign

I've been sleeping so strange at night Side-effects they don't advertise I've been sleeping so strange With a head full of pesticide

13. “Pain” Bilmuri

They abandon me 'Cause I'm not like them They hold me down And tell me what I am

I feel the death inside this place surround me I know that you will live only near to me

I feel the pain inside my lungs When you take away the ones that I love And I feel the pain with so few to trust When they fall away and say I'm not enough

When I have nothing, you're always with me, with me When I have nothing, I need you here, next to me Next to me

14. “The Brothel” Susanne Sundfør

Love I laid in payment Stars were stains in heaven and afterglow Beneath the ashes of echoes buried alive They are howling through hollows Once we share their temples Now our heads are hung up on walls

We are ruins within ruins On every corner a gladiator is begging for another century When no one cut your tongue To know nothing and to know it all To be both the animal and God

You cover your eyes You cover your mouth You cover your ears Still you follow my trail I’ll do all I’ll do whatever you say God has left me anyway

There are echoes in the garden Is anybody listening? There are echoes lost in the garden Is anybody listening? They whisper The ones who are only living Are the ones who are only dying

15. “Last Night I Watched Myself Sleep And I Saw Things That I Wish I Could Forget” Aurora View

A loss of breath, a pinch awake A melancholy kind of pain Hold out your tongue, let in the rain Keeping your eyes closed keeps you sane

What can you say when all of the words and all of the pain It won’t go away And you do, you do When nothing comes through I’m going insane I’m losing my faith

Feels abused and sedated It’s pulling me out of my skin But as I sway my intentions Despite misdirections Lead me back to where I begin

If I cut out my eyes What would I leave behind When monsters are all that I see? Cause I feel so alone And I hate to admit that I wish you away in my dreams

16. “Jesus Christ” Brand New

Well, Jesus Christ, I’m alone again So what did you do those three days you were dead? ‘Cause this problem’s gonna last more than the weekend Well, Jesus Christ, I’m not scared to die I’m a little bit scared of what comes after Do I get the gold chariot? Do I float through the ceiling?

Do I divide and pull apart? ‘Cause my bright is too slight to hold back all my dark And this ship went down in sight of land And at the gates does Thomas ask to see my hands?

I know you come in the night like a thief But I’ve had some time, o Lord, to hone my lying technique I know you think that I’m someone you can trust But I’m scared I’ll get scared and I swear I’ll try to nail you back up So do you think that we could work out a sign So I’ll know it’s you and that it’s over so I won’t even try I know you’re coming for the people like me But we all got wood and nails We turn, turn out hate in factories Yeah, we all got wood and nails We turn, turn out hate in factories Yeah, we all got wood and nails And we sleep inside of this machine

17. “Magnolia” Gang Of Youths

Still honking those horns, yeah, just drive around ‘Cause you’re all being ignored Deadpan and bright As I flip you the bird, I’m a pain in the ass Yeah, I’m a real piece of work Just waving my arms like some terrible mime And shaking my ass ‘till they kiss it goodbye Just show me the right things That I didn’t do Oh, enlighten me now With impossible love from the former you

Just tell everyone I know what I did, I did for us, and in haste ‘Cause I’m terrified of dying in vain

There’s no way tonight As far as I know That heaven will take me So I’m staggering home Wretched and wild All glory and trash Yeah, I’m drunk, but I’m ready To kick some fucking ass

No way tonight As far as I know That heaven will take me So I'm staggering home Fire of my loins, oh, light of my life We’re vastly outnumbered Every motherfucking time

[hclyxghcst-archived]

[ guide ] to roughly grab my muse and pull them into a passionate kiss. Uriel

rough commands meme | o p e n 

She’s got the darkest part of him on her leash and he loves it, can’t get enough of her hands in his hair, teeth on his neck, sharp red nails tearing into his back as she cries out, plucks the feathers from his wings like they’re nothing, like he’s nothing. All her madness and all her fire, the way it sparks a terrible light in her eyes when she’s got a bad idea, the darkness it draws out of him like water from the bottom of a well - it hits harder than any drug he’s ever known, leaves him on his knees and aching for another hit. She’s better than coke, almost, but he does another line off the motel bible in their dirty honeymoon suite just to be sure before he allows her to drag him by the collar into a filthy kiss, bloody hands staining his white t-shirt with some unfortunate stranger’s warm blood. He can hardly help the growl that tears itself from low in his throat as he pins her to the stained faux-velvet on their heart-shaped bed, moves to drag his teeth across her skin and tear the lingerie from her body. He smirks then at the thought of the “do not disturb” sign hanging from their door, knows they are the disturbance, and if they don’t get thrown out for noise complaints by sunrise, he’s not doing it right. Pupils blown and black as he crests the high of adrenaline, he is gone and hopes never to return, lost and hopes never to be found; this, he thinks, must be what they mean by s e e i n g  r e d.

{ @headbitchtm }

[dailychapel]

God my Champion, embolden me with the power of Your Holy Spirit when I am tempted to fear. Please strengthen me, help me, and hold me up with Your righteous right hand. These circumstances will not prevail against me, for You champion my cause. These troubles will be like grass that withers in the heat of the sun, for Your hand of blessing rests on me. Amen.

[Psa 18:2-16 NKJV] 2 The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer; My God, my strength, in whom I will trust; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. 3 I will call upon the LORD, [who is worthy] to be praised; So shall I be saved from my enemies. 4 The pangs of death surrounded me, And the floods of ungodliness made me afraid. 5 The sorrows of Sheol surrounded me; The snares of death confronted me. 6 In my distress I called upon the LORD, And cried out to my God; He heard my voice from His temple, And my cry came before Him, [even] to His ears. 7 Then the earth shook and trembled; The foundations of the hills also quaked and were shaken, Because He was angry. 8 Smoke went up from His nostrils, And devouring fire from His mouth; Coals were kindled by it. 9 He bowed the heavens also, and came down With darkness under His feet. 10 And He rode upon a cherub, and flew; He flew upon the wings of the wind. 11 He made darkness His secret place; His canopy around Him [was] dark waters [And] thick clouds of the skies. 12 From the brightness before Him, His thick clouds passed with hailstones and coals of fire. 13 The LORD thundered from heaven, And the Most High uttered His voice, Hailstones and coals of fire. 14 He sent out His arrows and scattered the foe, Lightnings in abundance, and He vanquished them. 15 Then the channels of the sea were seen, The foundations of the world were uncovered At Your rebuke, O LORD, At the blast of the breath of Your nostrils. 16 He sent from above, He took me; He drew me out of many waters.

[Jer 5:1-31 NKJV] 1 "Run to and fro through the streets of Jerusalem; See now and know; And seek in her open places If you can find a man, If there is [anyone] who executes judgment, Who seeks the truth, And I will pardon her. 2 Though they say, '[As] the LORD lives,' Surely they swear falsely." 3 O LORD, [are] not Your eyes on the truth? You have stricken them, But they have not grieved; You have consumed them, But they have refused to receive correction. They have made their faces harder than rock; They have refused to return. 4 Therefore I said, "Surely these [are] poor. They are foolish; For they do not know the way of the LORD, The judgment of their God. 5 I will go to the great men and speak to them, For they have known the way of the LORD, The judgment of their God." But these have altogether broken the yoke [And] burst the bonds. 6 Therefore a lion from the forest shall slay them, A wolf of the deserts shall destroy them; A leopard will watch over their cities. Everyone who goes out from there shall be torn in pieces, Because their transgressions are many; Their backslidings have increased. 7 "How shall I pardon you for this? Your children have forsaken Me And sworn by [those that are] not gods. When I had fed them to the full, Then they committed adultery And assembled themselves by troops in the harlots' houses. 8 They were [like] well-fed lusty stallions; Every one neighed after his neighbor's wife. 9 Shall I not punish [them] for these [things]?" says the LORD. "And shall I not avenge Myself on such a nation as this? 10 "Go up on her walls and destroy, But do not make a complete end. Take away her branches, For they [are] not the LORD's. 11 For the house of Israel and the house of Judah Have dealt very treacherously with Me," says the LORD. 12 They have lied about the LORD, And said, "[It is] not He. Neither will evil come upon us, Nor shall we see sword or famine. 13 And the prophets become wind, For the word [is] not in them. Thus shall it be done to them." 14 Therefore thus says the LORD God of hosts: "Because you speak this word, Behold, I will make My words in your mouth fire, And this people wood, And it shall devour them. 15 Behold, I will bring a nation against you from afar, O house of Israel," says the LORD. "It [is] a mighty nation, It [is] an ancient nation, A nation whose language you do not know, Nor can you understand what they say. 16 Their quiver [is] like an open tomb; They [are] all mighty men. 17 And they shall eat up your harvest and your bread, [Which] your sons and daughters should eat. They shall eat up your flocks and your herds; They shall eat up your vines and your fig trees; They shall destroy your fortified cities, In which you trust, with the sword. 18 "Nevertheless in those days," says the LORD, "I will not make a complete end of you. 19 "And it will be when you say, 'Why does the LORD our God do all these [things] to us?' then you shall answer them, 'Just as you have forsaken Me and served foreign gods in your land, so you shall serve aliens in a land [that is] not yours.' 20 "Declare this in the house of Jacob And proclaim it in Judah, saying, 21 'Hear this now, O foolish people, Without understanding, Who have eyes and see not, And who have ears and hear not: 22 Do you not fear Me?' says the LORD. 'Will you not tremble at My presence, Who have placed the sand as the bound of the sea, By a perpetual decree, that it cannot pass beyond it? And though its waves toss to and fro, Yet they cannot prevail; Though they roar, yet they cannot pass over it. 23 But this people has a defiant and rebellious heart; They have revolted and departed. 24 They do not say in their heart, "Let us now fear the LORD our God, Who gives rain, both the former and the latter, in its season. He reserves for us the appointed weeks of the harvest." 25 Your iniquities have turned these [things] away, And your sins have withheld good from you. 26 'For among My people are found wicked [men]; They lie in wait as one who sets snares; They set a trap; They catch men. 27 As a cage is full of birds, So their houses [are] full of deceit. Therefore they have become great and grown rich. 28 They have grown fat, they are sleek; Yes, they surpass the deeds of the wicked; They do not plead the cause, The cause of the fatherless; Yet they prosper, And the right of the needy they do not defend. 29 Shall I not punish [them] for these [things]?' says the LORD. 'Shall I not avenge Myself on such a nation as this?' 30 "An astonishing and horrible thing Has been committed in the land: 31 The prophets prophesy falsely, And the priests rule by their [own] power; And My people love [to have it] so. But what will you do in the end?

[1Co 4:1-21 NKJV] 1 Let a man so consider us, as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God. 2 Moreover it is required in stewards that one be found faithful. 3 But with me it is a very small thing that I should be judged by you or by a human court. In fact, I do not even judge myself. 4 For I know of nothing against myself, yet I am not justified by this; but He who judges me is the Lord. 5 Therefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord comes, who will both bring to light the hidden things of darkness and reveal the counsels of the hearts. Then each one's praise will come from God. 6 Now these things, brethren, I have figuratively transferred to myself and Apollos for your sakes, that you may learn in us not to think beyond what is written, that none of you may be puffed up on behalf of one against the other. 7 For who makes you differ [from another]? And what do you have that you did not receive? Now if you did indeed receive [it], why do you boast as if you had not received [it]? 8 You are already full! You are already rich! You have reigned as kings without us--and indeed I could wish you did reign, that we also might reign with you! 9 For I think that God has displayed us, the apostles, last, as men condemned to death; for we have been made a spectacle to the world, both to angels and to men. 10 We [are] fools for Christ's sake, but you [are] wise in Christ! We [are] weak, but you [are] strong! You [are] distinguished, but we [are] dishonored! 11 To the present hour we both hunger and thirst, and we are poorly clothed, and beaten, and homeless. 12 And we labor, working with our own hands. Being reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we endure; 13 being defamed, we entreat. We have been made as the filth of the world, the offscouring of all things until now. 14 I do not write these things to shame you, but as my beloved children I warn [you]. 15 For though you might have ten thousand instructors in Christ, yet [you do] not [have] many fathers; for in Christ Jesus I have begotten you through the gospel. 16 Therefore I urge you, imitate me. 17 For this reason I have sent Timothy to you, who is my beloved and faithful son in the Lord, who will remind you of my ways in Christ, as I teach everywhere in every church. 18 Now some are puffed up, as though I were not coming to you. 19 But I will come to you shortly, if the Lord wills, and I will know, not the word of those who are puffed up, but the power. 20 For the kingdom of God [is] not in word but in power. 21 What do you want? Shall I come to you with a rod, or in love and a spirit of gentleness?

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.

Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

[acraftedmistake]

A Person Who Has Never Played MCSM Writes A Story About MCSM Chp. 12

YEEE CHP 12  I may be tired but I had a BANGER time writing this chapter..... 

Enjoy!! 

Uncomfortable. That was the only word Jesse could use to perfectly describe the nave he sat in. Pure, unfiltered discomfort.

Two days after Lukas’ funeral, Nell came knocking on his door in the middle of the day saying her ‘support group’ was getting together soon, and offered to walk him there. As she guided him out of Obsidian Town and through the seemingly infinite field of grass, past the northwest forest where the once-active shrine laid, a horrible realization consumed Jesse’s mind: he’s going to be surrounded by enemies with no protection. No sword, no arrows, nothing.

He had been too consumed with the loss of Lukas to properly plan his visit to the ‘support group’, he had practically forgotten about Nell’s offer as well, but there was no point in dreading his past poor planning now.

Here he sat in the nave, hundreds upon hundreds of feet below the surface and away his friends, of The Awakening.

Jesse was unsure when the service would begin. Every eternal minute he waited was another nail being impaled into his head, telling him this was the worst decision he’s made in his entire life.

What was he doing here?

‘You’re here for Lukas.’ He reminded himself. Not just Lukas, but for Aiden, Maya, Gill, Cassie, and Stella too. They were his friends as well.

Nell must’ve seen Jesse’s hands shake as they rested on his legs, she reached and held one of them, giving him a smile. Jesse gave her a small, forced smile in return.

Jesse was seated in the middle of a bench, pressed between Nell and a middle aged man, in the third row of the nave. There were seven rows, fourteen including the other benches on the left side, and they were all packed. He scanned the nave and everyone in here. They were all sitting and talking to one another. Not a single person was standing. If Jesse attempted to leave now, they’d all notice.

The chattering of the people, which was the only minimal source of comfort Jesse had, turned to hushes, then to silence.

Jesse brought his attention to the front of the room where the stage stood, it had hanging banners, red flowers in pots, redstone torches aligned on the walls, and three men who stood behind the podium. The names of the eldest, white haired man and the older, dark skinned man to the right had slipped Jesse’s mind, but he remembered the horribly pale, blond man to the left of them: Cecil. Out of the three, Jesse, Aiden, and the others fought Cecil--back when he and Radar worked together--the most.

The eldest man, with a smile on his wrinkled face, began talking. Jesse couldn’t listen. He can’t. He tore his hand out of Nell’s and gripped onto the edge of the bench in front of him, focusing on the stone floor below, breathing in and out of the mouth hoping it’d calm his nerves. He remembered the older men being blind, but Cecil wasn’t. What if Cecil spotted him in the crowd? What would he do? Would he run? Fight his way through?

Why didn’t he tell his friends where he was going? Why didn’t he tell them about Nell? He should have. One of them could have joined him. He’d feel safer. He’d be safer.

Jesse heard the creaking of wood followed by tens of footsteps. He brought his eyes back up to see the people from the first row form a line by the small staircase that led to the stage.

“Are you alright?” He heard Nell ask.

He nodded as he watched a person step on stage, approach a basket set on the podium, place something inside, nodded, then stepped down. Another person repeated this process.

“What’s going on?” Jesse asked, continuing to watch the people.

“People’s payment.” Nell answered.

Jesse’s body jolted. Payment?

“I didn’t bring any money--!” He felt the panic begin to rise again.

“Relax, you’ll be okay.” Nell hushed him, “You can ‘pay’ with a confession.”

The people of the second row stood and came to the stage as the first row returned to their seats.

“What? What does that mean? What should I even confess?”

“When you step up there, put your hand over the basket and tell a truth.” She vaguely explained.

Jesse looked back at the people. Maybe him sitting in the third row made it hard to properly see what the people were doing, but it seemed everyone was giving money. He didn’t want to be the only one. What if he let important information slip? The men heard his voice before, they were bound to know it was Jesse. Maybe he could deepen his voice, confess in one quick breath, then leave. He still needed to come up with a confession, even a white lie would do.

Nell nudged him, “Don’t worry, people have confessed to some pretty awful things before.”

She directed his attention to the people sitting beside him, who had risen from their seats, and began walking to the stage. Nell hoisted Jesse up by his arm and began guiding him to the line.

“If you confess to something embarrassing, I’ll be sure to make my confession worse.” Nell promised. Her tone was optimistic and fueled his anxiety rather than helped it.

Jesse prayed for the line to go slowly, that the truths people told would be long and time consuming, but instead he found himself moving closer to the stairs every few seconds. Each step he took, he could make out more of the men’s appearances. Every strand of hair, every crack and wrinkle in their faces, the scars of severe burn marks, and every other despicable detail. They repulsed Jesse.

When one person stepped off the stage, the men would turn to the next person coming on. Each time they turned their head, Jesse swore Cecil’s eyes locked onto his.

“Thank you.” Jesse heard the oldest say to the middle aged man. When the man walked off, they brought their heads to Jesse’s direction.

‘You’ve fought them before.’ Jesse told himself as he put his weight on the first step.

‘Just be quick. Get it over with.’ He dragged his feet across the wooden planks, his eyes beholding the men before him. He saw Cecil had now closed his eyes, a light smile on his face. The same smile he wore whenever he witnessed Jesse and his friends in misery.

Jesse stood in front of the podium and hovered his shaking hand over the full basket.

“I once…” Why was his voice so brittle?  

The dark skinned man lifted his head upon hearing Jesse’s voice.

Jesse swallowed, “I once broke my friend’s sword. I felt awful, so I made him a new one. He never found out.”

He pulled his hand back, ready to leave, but the man on the right stepped close.

“I don’t believe I recognize your voice.” His voice was deep and deceitfully calm. A smile was on his face, and his foggy eyes created the illusion of softness.

“Is this your first gathering?” The man asked, his hands were clasped together.

He doesn’t want to do this anymore. Please. Please let him sit back down. Please let him go.

“Yes.” Jesse answered quietly, looking down.

“Ah, it is always wonderful hearing a new voice.” The man raised one hand and placed it on Jesse’s shoulder. Jesse’s body stiffened.

“I am Brenner. Who might you be?”

Jesse felt all eyes in the nave pierce through him. He could feel them watching. Don’t panic. Don’t cause a scene. Don’t.

His mind couldn’t create a false name in time, “Jesse.”

Brenner’s smile grew, he pulled Jesse close and spun him around to face the crowd.

“We have a new member in our family!” Announced Brenner as he held Jesse close.

Jesse looked on in horror as the audience stood up and cheered for him. His eyes darted over the crowd; from complete strangers, to kids, to elders, to people who lived in his town, they all watched him. Clapped for him. Celebrated his presence.

He wanted to go home.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jess studied what little of the shrine he could make out. Had it not been for the sunlight outside, it’d be nearly impossible to see the ruined shrine’s interior. The inside actually looked far nicer than what Jess imagined. When he heard the words ‘abandoned shrine’, he expected massive cobwebs, walls seconds away from crumbling and a ceiling moments away from caving in, or giant, collapsed columns with their remains spilled over the floor. But amazingly, the place was in decent condition.

The walls and floors had minor cracks throughout them, the biggest being those the size of Jess’ arm, and there were four, sturdy columns in the room that supported the ceiling. Speaking of which, chunks of the ceiling were missing, most likely due to the quakes throughout the years, and had fallen onto the ground and the benches. Rain must’ve seeped through the cracks above, as mold had formed in the corners of the room, on the benches, and on the thin, red carpet that led to a broken, battered stage at the end. An odd, earthly scent clashed with a powerful, rusty odor which Jess’ stomach wasn’t sure how to feel about.

“This place’s definitely seen better days.” Gill said aloud. His voice echoed through what was once a nave.

Maya took out two torch sticks and struck them against the wall, setting both ablaze. The room brightened, tinted orange by the fires, and two doorways became visible. One was on the left of the ruined stage while the other was in the center of the left wall. Neither appeared welcoming.

“Here.” Maya handed Aiden a torch.

The four followed the moldy carpet past the benches then stopped in front of the stage. Jess turned towards it, beholding the torn banners and the eerie symbol placed between them. Something about seeing the symbol in a wall of a forgotten shrine, luminated by a flickering source of light, made Jess feel as though the shrine were haunted.

He dragged his eyes away from the symbol and locked onto the door-hole by the stage.

“Should we start our search there?” Jess pointed to the hole.

Aiden glanced at the door then shook his head, “Nah, we wanna go through that one.”

He pointed to the other doorway, which was more refined and had a wooden frame unlike the one Jess suggested.

Aiden walked around the benches and headed to the doorway, the others followed behind.

“I’m not sure where that leads to, but I do know this hallway branches off to a bunch of different rooms.” Aiden explained, extending his hand with the torch in front of him as he entered said-hall.

Jess followed behind Aiden, Gill and Maya behind him, small bits of ember occasionally flying into his hair. They truly needed the torches, not only because of how dark the hallway was, but because the smoke overpowered the putrid smell of rust and mold.

It didn’t take much walking for them to soon encounter their first door, however, they didn’t enter just yet.

“Hold on, I want to check something.” Aiden said, and continued walking through the narrow, pitch black hall, the light of his torch revealing five more worn down, wooden doors as he passed them. The brightness of the fire faded the further he went, but before he became completely consumed by the darkness, fire and all, he stopped. His whispered cussing bounced off the walls.

“You okay?” Gill asked, squinting at the flame of Aiden’s torch, barely making out his silhouette.

“Yeah.” Aiden huffed, returning to his friends, “Remember those stairs that led to the real big room underneath?”

“Uh huh?” Gill responded.

“It’s been completely blocked off by rubble. Even if we managed to move the rocks, I’m pretty sure the trip down wouldn’t be safe.”

“That’s alright.” Maya said.

She glanced at the walls, “We got six rooms to search through. They should have something.”

“Exactly.” Aiden looked at the three.

“We’ll go in pairs. Maya and Gill, you check out the rooms on the right side. Jess and I will go through the ones on the left.”

“Got it.” Maya approached the first door she saw and swung it open with her free hand.

Gill followed behind, “We’ll holler if we spot anythin’!”

Aiden didn’t waste any time, he opened the first left door at the beginning of the hallway and tilted his head, signalling Jess to follow. Not that Jess needed to be told, he was already rushing inside, eager to see what the first door had to offer.

What laid in the room they entered were the remains of a small library. Towering bookshelves covered the walls, a few had fallen to the floor and broke into pieces, and were filled with dusty books of a variety of sizes. A tattered ladder with missing steps leaned against a bookshelf which stood beside an old writing desk, who had clumps of black ink all over it’s old, wooden top. Chests, all closed, were placed in front of bookcases by the desk, and had a few books on their tops. The stone floor had a large, round, torn carpet with intricate golden-yellow and deep red designs sewn into it, along with the symbol Jess saw before. Despite how worned it seemed, the carpet was still in good condition, and looked as though it took months upon months to make. It made Jess wonder why someone would leave it behind.

By the door they came through, there were two unlit torches on each side. Aiden fed fire to them; the combined strength of the three flames revealed tiny symbols painstakingly carved into the walls. As Aiden started removing the books from the chests, Jess brought himself closer to what walls weren’t covered by the shelves and started running his fingers over the symbols. As he felt each bump, scratch, and tiny hole thoughtfully chiseled into each unique symbol, he imagined what Olivia would do if she beheld what he saw.

She would get on her knees, fingers would carefully trace each individual line that created each miniscule detail, trying to figure out what each shape represented or what the shape was meant to be. She’d wonder how long the symbols have been around for, and how important they were to the people who created them.

Speaking of wondering…

“How many shrines are there?” Jess asked his first question.

Aiden looked up from the chest and thought for a moment, “Around Obsidian Town or around the world?”

Jess slowly raised his brows, “Do you know how many shrines are around the world?”

“No.” Aiden chuckled, “But there’s four known shrines around our town, I wouldn’t be surprised if that number shrunk with all those quakes over time though.”

Aiden moved to the next chest to the left of him after he found nothing, and began digging around, “Apparently The Awakening has been ditching old shrines and building up new ones whenever something goes slightly wrong for years.”

His fingers reached the bottom and felt a soft, sandy substance, causing his eyes to brighten.

“They did it again after we beat ‘em, nice to know some things never change.” A smug smile spread across his face. He took his hand out of the chest and saw the tips of his fingers coated in a red, glittering dust. He grabbed the leather pouch from his jacket’s pocket, opened it, and carefully started transferring the redstone powder into the bag.

Jess, not wanting to stand around and only ask questions, brought himself to a chest on the farther left side of the library, and started searching as well.

“Was there a specific reason why these were built?” He asked, hand digging through the forgotten items, “Are they all made for worshipping The Hero, or is each one built with a specific reason? Do people live in them?”

“I dunno about people living in them--” He halted and swore under his breath as the red powder slipped through his fingertips and clouded his vision red.

“You’d probably have to ask Hadrian and Mevia for more details on shrines. Or Gill.”

Aiden scraped as much of the powder he could and poured it into the pouch, “Most of them were made for worshipping. The Shrine of Eyes? Worshipping, but was also used for attempted summonings.”

Jess remained still for a minute, staring aimlessly into the chest as he thought to himself.

“Why do people worship The Hero?”

Aiden opened his mouth but quickly closed it, clenching his teeth.

“That’s…” He pressed his lips together, “We only know the surface level of The Awakening. Radar knows a lot more, but he probably won’t share much.”

He closed the chest and tightened the strings of the pouch, “The Awakening has this crazy theory that The Hero is a god who’s been banished to another dimension--another universe?”

Aiden stopped to think, then continued, “He was made to represent the worst in everyone, the exact opposite of the Impossible Man. I also remember a lot of people linking the earthquakes we get with The Hero judging us and ‘trying to escape’ his banishment. There’s a lotta theories out there.”

He stood up, “So my only guess is The Awakening hopes them being suck-ups will be enough to make The Hero spare our world. It’s such a weird rabbithole I don’t wanna get myself into.”

“All I need to know is they’re doing bad things,” Aiden slammed the chest closed, “and we gotta stop them.”

“Don’t they have a lot of members?” Jess tilted his head, “Isn’t it overwhelming?”

“Didn’t stop us last time.” Aiden grinned, but his pride was short lived as he remembered something.

“But first we need to get our Jesse back.” Aiden mumbled as he dragged his feet to the next chest.

Jess could see a sadness form in Aiden’s eyes as he began searching through the chest.

‘Ask another question. Change the subject.’ He told himself. Jess glanced at the carpet then back at Aiden.

“What’s the uh, what’s that symbol supposed to be?” He pointed to said-symbol in the center of the carpet.

Aiden turned to the rug, “Oh, that. It’s supposed to be The Awakening’s empty eye. It’s their way of showing loyalty.”

Jess focused on the empty eye and scrunched his brow, “How?”

“Shoot, you’ve never seen it before, right. Well it’s--it’s when you do this.”

Jess watched Aiden begin to roll his pupils to the back of his head, further and further till only his thin veins were visible on his empty, white eyes.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Stella tapped her foot impatiently, her worried expression growing. Cassie Rose was leaning against the wall by the door of the old, wooden house, her hands in her hoodie’s pockets. Olivia stood in front of the door, staring at the “Closed” sign, the once bold red bleached by the sunlight.

All Olivia could do was keep facing the store, she could hear the footsteps and chatter of the citizens walking along the road, which only made her bury her face into the hoodie more, praying no one would recognize her. She still couldn’t wrap her head around the fact the people here were active at night, just imagining people enjoying their breakfasts and heading off to work at 9 PM weirded her out.

“Maybe we came at a bad time.” Stella said out loud, her fingers picking at the skin of her face.

“He said he’ll be here in a few minutes, we just gotta wait.” Cassie tried to reassure her friend.

“I know, I know.” She took a couple of deep breaths to settle her nerves. These past minutes felt like hours.

Cassie looked at Olivia, “You got a Hadrian and Mevia back at your place?”

Olivia quickly glanced at the redhead, “Yes, they were the more… Interesting people.”

“Yeah?”

Olivia kept going, “They ran games, liked sending people to mines, sadistic--oh my gosh, they were so twisted. I think they were the worst senior citizens I’ve ever met.”

Cassie bursted out into laughter, Stella didn’t comment on Olivia’s description. She didn’t need to. Her bugged eyes said it all. Olivia’s cheeks got hot.

Cassie took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, “That’s great. Would love to meet them one day.” She said through chuckles.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, our Hadrian and Mevia are nothing like your’s. They just run a little shop and dress a little weird.” Stella said, clasping her hands together.

Olivia grinned, “Mine’s dressed pretty weird too, it’s nice to know they have one thing in common.”

Cassie Rose opened her mouth, ready to say more, but the doorknob started jiggling. Faint clicking sounds could be heard on the other side. Stella and Olivia stepped back, and the door swung wide open, the small bell tied to the knob dangled wildly.

“Hello, girls!” Greeted a jolly looking Hadrian, “Sorry bout the wait, I--”

Hadrian’s eyes locked onto Olivia’s face. His body froze, his mouth hung open, and before Stella or Cassie had the chance to say anything, he swiftly slammed the door in their faces. The three stood there awkwardly and exchanged concerned expressions with one another.

Stella leaned forward, ready to knock again, but Hadrian cracked the door open and barely brought his face out.

“You…” He said in a whisper, gazing at Olivia, “You wouldn’t happen to be from… From another universe, would you?”

Olivia blinked, Stella and Cassie looked as surprised as she did.

“Who did--” Stella sputtered, “How did you--”

“Hadrian? Who are you talking to?” The four heard Mevia coming closer. Hadrian jumped and shut the door again. The girls listened to the muffled conversation; Hadrian said no one important was there, Mevia kept pushing to see who it was, Hadrian kept refusing, then the two started shoving each other. The ruckus continued growing until Mevia successfully kicked the door open.

She let out a loud gasp and pointed to Olivia, “Please, please tell me you’re from another universe.”

Olivia saw Mevia’s barely contained smile and wondered if she really needed to answer her.

“I am.”

Mevia was beaming. She slowly turned to Hadrian, who was clutching onto the door frame, her smile growing stronger.

“Don’t do it.” He pointed at the blue haired lady. Mevia opened her mouth.

“Don’t you say it.” He growled.

“I…”

“Mevia, I swear to all things possible--”

“I was right~!” She sang, her finger jabbing into Hadrian’s arm.

He hung his head in defeat and loudly groaned, “You were right.”

“I’m confused, what’s going on?” Stella questioned, giving the two a baffled expression.

Hadrian pushed up his glasses, “I’ll tell ya inside.”

As the girls followed the man into the store, squeezing their way through the tight spaces and carefully stepping over the scattered candles, he went on to explain what had happened after Jess, Aiden, and Gill had visited. He repeated everything he’s been told by Jess and Aiden to Mevia, they both took note on how out of character he was, along with Olivia being mentioned, and that’s when Mevia theorized the possibility of another universe coming into play. Hadrian told the girls he thought her idea ‘was the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard’, and ‘there’s no way, it’s impossible’, but turns out he was wrong. Mevia wore a smug smirk as he talked about his loss.

Throughout the summary, Olivia watched Hadrian gesturing with his hands, holding her breath every time his thick, unbuttoned, dusty yellow and purple striped cloak swung close to the flames of the lit candles. If his cloak wasn’t making Olivia nervous, then it’d be his long, striped pants that looked as though they’d get caught on the many items laying on the floor, or hooked on whatever was sticking out of shelves, and make him trip. The only article of clothing he wore that wasn’t considered a hazard was his pinned, yellow dress shirt, which was somewhat covered by his loosely worn cloak.

Olivia didn’t even want to start on the flowing red and black dress Mevia wore. While it had laces tied around her chest to keep it from slipping off, the dress’ straps would slide down her shoulders, and the fabric would fly everywhere every time she spun around to face the girls. How could they wear outfits like these in this mess?

But was it fair for Olivia to criticize their jumbled store?

She thought back to her home, how she had an entire room dedicated to creating redstone contraptions, and how disordered it was. Powder was smeared everywhere, half-crafted items and broken materials would lay on every surface, her tools and torches were sloppily thrown onto tables; calling her workshop ‘messy’ would be generous. When Olivia scanned Hadrian’s store, she couldn’t help but find charm in it’s chaos, and feel the importance and history of every object placed in this store.

“I can’t breathe.” Olivia heard Cassie mutter. She turned to see Mevia giving the redhead a crushing hug.

Mevia let go, “Sorry, sorry! I’m just excited my favorite girl came to visit! I’m a little sad Gill’s not with you though.”

Cassie wanted to comment how their last visit was merely two weeks ago, and the fact they also lived extremely close to each other, but she decided to let Mevia’s enthusiasm remain.

Stella had taken a seat on one of the many cushioned, wooden chairs who faced the small stage, while Hadrian was searching through a tower of boxes.

“I know we gotta have one flint’n steel here…” Hadrian said, taking junk from the box by the handful and dumping them onto the floor.

“It’s for a crafting recipe Aiden found in your journal.” Stella explained.

“Oh no, ain’t mine!” Hadrian said, “Got it from some crazy bearded guy. ‘Sides, you know my handwriting’s nicer than that.”

The two continued conversing.  

‘I guess Stella already told them what’s been going on.’ Olivia thought to herself.

Mevia suddenly jumped and faced Olivia, “You! I have so man--so many questions!”

She was choking up. Olivia and Cassie noted her voice cracking.

“You okay?” Cassie asked the older woman.

Mevia nodded wildly, fanning her eyes, “Yes, perfectly fine! It’s just really, really weird to see her again, you know?”

Despite her shaky tone and the few tears running down her eyes, she was beaming. She didn’t look too sad, and she certainly didn’t feel sad over seeing this Olivia.

“I’m only a little overwhelmed. Thinking about--” Mevia rubbed her eyes and took a quick breath.

“Okay, questions!” She clapped her hands, “What am I like in your universe? Is Hadrian a killjoy like he is here?”

“I heard that!” Hadrian shot back.

“You were axe-crazy and Hadrian was a real bad liar.” Olivia said. Mevia bobbed her head.

The woman then recalled something, her eyes sparkled and she rushed to the top of the cluttered stage, grabbing a cracked head from the pile of statue remains. Mevia held the head with both hands and spun it around so it’d face Olivia and Cassie when they caught up with her. The head was a man with an unchiseled beard and a determined expression.

“Do you have your own version of ‘The Impossible Man’?” Mevia asked, tossing the head from hand to hand as if it were a toy.

Olivia opened her mouth and thought for a moment.

“I… Actually don’t know much about The Impossible Man.” She did remember her book describing the man, but her knowledge was still limited. It’d be nice to hear more about him from a person who lived in this universe.

Her response was met with the dropped jaws of Mevia and Stella.

“Shut UP!” Mevia threw the head to the ground, “You don’t know?!”

“Mevia, please be careful with the statues.” Hadrian pleaded.

“Sorry! Anyways! Quick lesson!”

Mevia slid to the center of the stage, “Picture this:” She started, flicking her hands up and splaying her fingers.

“You have a man who’s done it all! Traveled across the world through the most wild biomes, fighting different, ferocious monsters and making companions along the way! He’s explored the deepest oceans and the tallest mountains!” She swayed herself over to the statues again, fingers running along the edges where stone had cracked.

“He destroyed countless beasts in the Nether and single handedly slayed the dragon in The End!” She said as she swung an imaginary sword.

“But isn’t that--” Olivia began, but was interrupted by Mevia.

“Impossible?” A grin crept across her face, “Exactly.”

Olivia went quiet for a moment.

“For someone who’s done so much,” She said, “why isn’t he called by his name?”

Mevia shrugged, “Well, no one knows what it is! He’s been called a number of names throughout generations, from Aaron, Alex, Daliso, Milagro, to--”

“Steve.” Hadrian added with a chuckle.

“Oh, that’s my least favorite one.” She laughed. “But I don’t think it matters what his name is. He impacted our world, he represents the good in everybody, people see themselves in him, he’s an inspiration, and I think that’s what’s important.”

Mevia stepped off the stage, “Heck, he inspired Hadrian and I to explore the world when we were younger!”

“Good times...” Hadrian commented, a warm smile on his face.  

Olivia sat on a chair closest to the stage--Stella had gotten up to help Hadrian search through the boxes--and thought to herself. She pondered about The Impossible Man and her universe.

“We had The Order of the Stone,” Olivia said, “They were a group of people who killed the Ender Dragon, along with going on many adventures.” She chose to leave out the fact The Order lied to everyone about the dragon, she didn’t want to ruin the mood.

Then Olivia recalled a detail, “You and Hadrian were a part of The Old Builders! There were two other members: Harper and Otto. Do you have them in this universe?”

Mevia’s smile weakened, a flash of sorrow flickered through her eyes, and her shoulders dropped.

“Used to.” She answered

Olivia’s face fell, “Oh, I’m… I’m sorry.”

Mevia’s hand swat the air, “Don’t be! Don’t worry, it’s all in the past now. Back in our adventuring days.”

She walked to a small, round, brown table covered in papers in pens, knelt to the floor, and placed her hand on a loose wooden plank. She removed the plank and took out a diamond axe.

“We may not leave our house as much anymore, but if something or someone dangerous breaks in, we’re more than capable of taking care of ourselves.” She gripped the axe, holding it over her shoulder, and focusing on the wall in front of her.

“The second something dangerous waltzes in here--WHAM-O!” She chucked the axe with all her strength. It flew across the room and hit the wall, releasing a loud crack and causing Stella to jump. The axe was now stuck in the newly formed hole in the wall.

Mevia turned to Cassie and they high-fived.

“Please do not throw axes in our humble store.” Hadrian whined, rubbing his temples.

“I needed a visual demonstration!” Mevia exclaimed.

“No you did not!” He grumbled.

Hadrian shoved the boxes aside and brushed himself off. He came to Cassie and Olivia, Stella following behind, and showed them the flint and steel he had found. Whoever had owned this--whether it was Hadrian himself or a stranger--really made the most of it. The firestriker was crooked and stained with soot, the tool was practically useless.

“Thank you again, we really appreciate your help.” Stella said.

Hadrian handed her the item, “Not a problem. Now get outta here! Shoo before Mevia decides she wants to show you three more ‘visual demonstrations’!” He chuckled.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The library only offered redstone powder for Jess and Aiden, while the room next to the library had been taken over by debris, so any items that could’ve been in there were crushed and not worth the risk of getting harmed if they attempted to move the rubble. The last room at the very end of the hall held weapons and many, many dead redstone torches. Aiden was able to find enough powder to completely fill the pouch and last him and his friends for the rest of the week. Jess kept mental notes of everything to tell Olivia what he’s learned during his time here.

Aiden tightened the strings of the pouch, ready to get the others, when a series of knocks caught their attention. They turned around to see Maya and Gill standing in the doorway.

“Any luck?” Maya asked.

“Lotta dust.” Aiden said, showing her the heavy pouch. “What about you?”

“We got several pieces of flint!” Gill answered, lightly patting the jacket pocket he put the rocks in.

His eyes scanned the room, “Hey, I got stabbed here!”

Jess looked at Gill, then at the room, then back to Gill. What was he supposed to say? Gill sounded optimistic, was he supposed to apologize? Laugh nervously? Stay silent? Was there even an appropriate way to respond to what he’s said?

“Good to know?” Jess said, his eyes wide.

Maya changed the subject, “We found a storage room, we thought we’d find some gold there, but a lot of the chests were empty or destroyed.”

“That’s okay, just glad we got something. We should get going though, I don’t think there’s anywhere else we can look.” Aiden said. Before they returned to the nave, the group double checked the six rooms to make sure they didn’t leave any torches lit, then began their walk through the tight hallway.

“Maybe we’ll run into some gold later on?” Jess suggested as they continued walking.

“I don’t think people leave gold laying around.” Aiden turned his head a bit to face Jess with a smirk, “But maybe, who knows.”

Once they got out, Aiden, Gill, and Maya were discussing the flint and steel crafting recipe, and how things would play out depending on what Stella was able to translate when they returned home. As the three talked, Jess caught a glimpse of the door hole by the stage from the corner of his eye. He brought his head around and stared into it.

“Can I look through there?” Jess asked.

The others brought their attention to the hole.

Maya thought to herself for a moment then said “I think there’s only one room at the end. You probably won’t get much outta it.”

“Just in case?” He tilted his head.

“Alright,” Aiden agreed, “but make it fast.”

Jess nodded and scurried through the doorhole, entering another narrow hallway. The hallway, much like the previous one, was nearly pitch black. However, the further he went, the colder it got. As he descended further into the hall, his eyes were no longer any good. He had to rely on his hands to feel for doors.

He stopped when he felt his foot hit the end of the hallway, but something felt off. He lightly kicked the dead end and realized he was standing in front of a door.

“Told you there was only one room.” Maya said. Jess almost jumped out of his skin, he didn’t think it was possible to walk quietly through this ancient place.

Maya could hear his quick breaths, “Sorry.”

“It’s good, we’re all good.” Jess collected himself then faced the door again. He extended his arm and let his fingers run against the rough, jagged, wood, trying to feel for the knob. Once his hand came into contact with a cold, round object, he wrapped his hand around it and turned.

He opened the door a crack. That’s the most he could open it. He thought the door might’ve been stuck, so he pressed his body against it and pushed harder. It didn’t budge.

“Can you not open doors?” He heard Aiden whisper.

“No, something’s blocking it!” Jess whisper-shouted back. He peeked into the crack.

The first thing he noticed were the stone bricks stacked halfway to the door and prevented him from completely opening it. The second thing he noticed was the room was empty. Actually, that wasn’t true, there were stains on the cracked floor, a ladder on the left wall, and on the wall across from the door were two lit redstone torches. While the other rooms were ruined and in poor condition, it was clear people had used them, lived in them. This room was devoid of life.

‘Wait…’ Jess peeked back into the room. Why were the torches lit?

He scanned the room again; his eyes landed on the ladder which pulled his attention to the ceiling. There was a trapdoor. Where did it lead to?

“I think... “ Jess mumbled, “I think someone’s been in here.”

The air became frigid.

“Let me see.” Aiden said, pulling Jess to the side. He got close to the crack and studied the room.

“Who wou--” Aiden started but immediately shut up and pressed his head against the door.

“What’s up?” Gill asked, who was quickly shushed by Aiden.

The four stood in silence for a moment, then they heard it. The faint sound of footsteps nearing the trapdoor. While they weren’t approaching the trapdoor itself, they were close. They were coming from above.

Then voices.

“We’ll start… He gives us… Or…” A deep voice said.

Aiden could only hear bits and pieces, which was far more than what the others could understand.

“Few days… Should… Portal…”

Aiden’s body tensed when he heard the last word. He listened for more, but the voices dwindled and he was left with a haunting silence.

He carefully closed the door then faced his friends, “They’re planning something.”

“What? Who is?” While Jess was confused, Maya and Gill seemed to know what Aiden was referring to, and were instantly on edge.

“We gotta go. We need to tell the others.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cassie, Stella, and Olivia were sitting around the coffee table studying the items, the recipe, and the old flint and steel. Cassie kept rereading the directions over and over, attempting to make sense of them, while Stella held the flint and steel from a distance, rotating it around to get every angle of the tool. Olivia was sitting on the floor, brainstorming how they could possibly craft the odd variant of the flint and steel along with thinking about what Mevia had told her.

Olivia felt a yawn coming and attempted to suppress it, not wanting to come off as uninterested in what they were currently doing, but failed.

Stella peeked at her, “Oh right, time difference! Do you need to sleep?”

Olivia wasn’t sure what time it was; their trip to Petra’s was about an hour or two long and she had no idea how much time they'd spent in Obsidian Town, but it was obviously late. The sky was now a deep blue with stars scattered throughout, and the waning gibbous had risen high.

Olivia shook her head, “No, I’ll be okay, we need to figure this recipe out.”

“That’s true, but Cassie and I are well rested and we’re going to be busy all night. You shouldn’t force yourself to stay awake.” Stella said.

Olivia stared at the table for a minute.

“If I wake up early enough,” she started, “I could continue working on the flint and steel. I do know my way around redstone, so if Jess and the others bring some back, I could definitely make some progress.”

Admittingly, she’s never seen redstone be used for flint and steel before, but hopefully her and Jess would be able to figure out what to do.

“Sounds perfect!” Stella clasped her hands together.

“What the heck’s taking them so long anyways?” Cassie asked, looking up from the paper

Olivia didn’t know how far the shrine was from town, but it's been nearly half an hour since they’ve returned from Hadrian’s, and the others had yet to return. She started wondering if Jess needed to rest as well, but remembering how enthusiastic he was to join Aiden on his scavenger hunt made her doubt that.

Suddenly, the front door swung open and Aiden, Jess, Maya, and Gill rushed in. Before either of the girls could greet them, they began frantically--and sloppily--explaining what had happened at the shrine. Their words would clash together, everyone was interrupting and talking over each other, no sense could be made.

Stella raised her voice, “Please--One at a time, please!”

“Yeah, all I could hear was flint and something about a door.” Cassie said.

Olivia popped out from behind the girls, Jess gasped and ran up to her.

“Olivia! Gosh, I found out a lot of weird stuff, and we went down this hallway, and--” Olivia put her hand up to quiet Jess down.

“I would love to hear what you’ve learned, and I’d like to share what I’ve found out as well,” Olivia breathed in, “but I am also getting tired. Why don’t we go to our room and we can talk there?”

“Oh, yeah, fine with me!” Jess turned to Aiden, Maya, and Gill. They needed a moment to tell Stella and Cassie what happened, he could come back down after he and Olivia were caught up.

As they headed towards the stairs, everyone gave quick goodnights and returned to discussing what had happened in the shrine.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gill had hurriedly told the girls about what materials they found, while Maya was in the process of telling them about the empty room and what they had heard. Aiden was sitting on a bar stool and had placed the pouch of redstone dust on the table. He leaned back, trying to relax, but his whole body felt stiff.

Those voices had to have belonged to Awakening members, barely anyone went anywhere near the shrines, even he and his friends rarely went to them unless necessary.

‘Were they talking about the portal in the Shrine of Eyes?’ He asked himself, clenching and unclenching his fists.

‘Or are they creating a new portal?’

Aiden heard footsteps from the second floor. Olivia and Jess, most likely.

‘We’re gonna need to alert the guards, have them keep an eye on who’s going to the mines or acting suspicious--’

Another sound came from above him again, this time, a clattering sound. Aiden glanced at his friends who rather didn’t notice, or didn’t care, about the noise.

‘What are they doing in that room?’ Aiden thought, bringing his head to the ceiling as he listened to more footsteps.

The guest room was on the right side of the house.

His bedroom’s on the left.

His bedroom’s above him.

The noise was coming from his bedroom.

Aiden scrambled off the stool and told his friends he’d be right back. He rushed up the stairs, his breaths becoming faster and shorter with each step, and opened the door. His eyes darted around. The window by his desk was open. He took a step in, scanning every inch of his room, thinking the intruder could still be inside, but then the world froze when his eyes landed on his bookshelf.

Olivia’s hat.

It was gone.

He didn’t have to look out the window, he already knew who it was. He rushed out of his room--colliding with the wall--and ran down the stairs nearly tripping several times, and bursted out of the house, not giving his friends a second of explanation.

He sprinted through the busy streets of the town, shoving whoever he couldn’t avoid out of the way. When was the last time he ran so fast the world had been reduced to streaks of colors, and the wind that rushed past him had muted all sounds? He can’t remember, but it doesn’t matter right now.

The instant his foot stepped through the entrance, his head whipped around, looking for any signs of the man. How Aiden wished the sun was still up; the light the moon and stars provided wasn’t enough.

Standing here panting wasn’t helping, he needed to start looking. Fast. Maybe the forest to Petra’s? Or maybe he could run along the town’s border and run into him.

Aiden’s mind flooded with the possibilities of where he could go, but then he looked ahead and saw something--someone--in the distance straight ahead getting smaller and smaller.

‘Get him.’ Aiden’s mind commanded.

He darted off, holding his breath as he got closer and closer to the man, soon being able to make out his red suspenders and dirtied, white shirt.

“JESSE!” He shouted, still running towards him.

Jesse turned around, a look of absolute repulsion was on his face. He held Olivia’s hat to his chest.

Aiden screeched to a halt and hunched over, taking in mouthfuls of air.

“Jess--” Aiden began, still heaving.

“Where did you find this?” Jesse muttered, hugging the hat tighter.

“We--I found--” “WHERE?!” Jesse barked, taking a step closer.

Aiden brought his eyes to Jesse, whose hands were shaking and pupils had shrunken.

Lie. He needs to lie. Say whatever he can to get her hat back. What would his friends say when they find out he let it get taken?

“Look,” Aiden started through heavy breaths, “that doesn’t matter. I need to--”

“Doesn’t matter?” He heard Jesse repeat in a sharp hush. Jesse stared at Aiden with his mouth parted, he was gripping the hat so hard his knuckles were turning white.

He dragged himself closer to Aiden, “Doesn’t matter? Doesn’t matter!?”

He kept repeating those sickening words over and over, getting louder and louder as he brought himself closer and closer to Aiden till he was practically screaming them into his ears.

Jesse grabbed the collar of Aiden’s shirt and pulled him down to his face, locking onto him with his wild, bloodshot eyes.

“After what I’ve been through…” Jesse’s voice was shaky, “You think you deserve her MORE!?”

Aiden’s jaw clenched. He could see the green of Olivia’s hat from the corner of his eye. His hand immediately shot out and grabbed a strap of the hat, holding onto it like his life depended on it. He tried pulling it closer to him, but he dragged Jesse along with it, who refused to let it slip his grasp. ‘Don’t rip it. Don’t rip it.’ Aiden told himself.

“You have everything Lukas owned, and you can’t let me have this one small thing?!” Jesse growled. His free hand was beginning to curl into a fist.

“Because I--”

Jesse didn’t want to hear his sickening voice, “Because you ‘need’ it! Because you and everyone else thinks you’re so great! Because you’re selfish!”

Aiden couldn’t see Jesse’s fist flying towards him in the darkness until--

CRACK

Bright colors invaded one eye while the other could vaguely make out Jesse’s hand swinging back to his face. He didn’t have time to move, he could only squeeze his eyes and brace himself for the impact--

CRACK

Colors flashed, and despite not knowing whether his eyes were still closed or trying to adjust to the darkness once again, and his face burning to the point he thought it was melting off, he still held onto the hat.

Don’t hurt Jesse. Don’t hurt him. Take the hat and go home.

He could feel anger flooding into Jesse’s body when he realized his grip wasn’t weakening.

“You just hate seeing me happy, don’t you?” Jesse hissed. He began scraping the heel of his shoe against Aiden’s leg, hoping to shred his skin off. He hated fighting Aiden. Hated it. Not only did he have to look at his miserable face, fighting him wasn’t nearly as fair as fighting Radar, or Stella, or Cassie.

“You know I wou--”

Jesse began to pry Aiden’s fingers off the strap, bending each finger in unnatural angles. The strap was beginning to slip.

“You can’t stand not having any attention! It always has to be about you!”

“Jesse--”

“Just like the day Olivia died!”

“SHE NEEDS IT BACK, JESSE!” Aiden shouted.

Jesse gasped and let go of the hat, causing Aiden to fumble back with it.

“Who?” Jesse asked in a whisper.

What did he just say?

What did he just say?

Why did he say that?

Why?

The world and all it’s sounds came to a stop. All Aiden could hear were those questions booming through his head, clashing with the sound of his pounding heart, and the blood rushing through his body. His eyes were stuck on Jesse, he was trembling from anger and impatience.

“Who needs it back?” Jesse asked again, still in a harsh hush.

“Stella.” Aiden lied, but he sounded so serious he could’ve fooled himself.

“Stella found it, and she wanted to keep it by Lukas’ stuff…” He wanted to add more, but he couldn’t think of anything else.

But he didn’t need to.

Jesse only nodded, his hands still fists, as he began walking backwards. His eyes were still piercing through Aiden as he stepped further and further away until he turned and ran through the field.

Aiden watched as he grew smaller and smaller, and when he could no longer see any part of Jesse, he ran.

Cold sweat rushed down his face as he bolted back to town, back to his friends, with only one question blaring in his mind:

What did he just do?

[starlightspeedster]

"[David] shall cry to me, ‘You are my Father, my God, and the Rock of my salvation.’ And I will make him the firstborn, the highest of the kings of the earth. My steadfast love I will keep for him forever, and my covenant will stand firm for him. I will establish his offspring forever and his throne as the days of the heavens. If his children forsake my law and do not walk according to my rules, if they violate my statutes and do not keep my commandments, then I will punish their transgression with the rod and their iniquity with stripes, but I will not remove from him my steadfast love or be false to my faithfulness. I will not violate my covenant or alter the word that went forth from my lips." -Psalm 89:26-34 ESV

"Your (Jacob's) offspring shall be like the dust of the earth, and you shall spread abroad to the west and to the east and to the north and to the south, and in you and your offspring shall all the families of the earth be blessed." -Genesis 28:14 ESV

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Genesis+18%3A18%2CGenesis+22%3A18%2CGenesis+26%3A4%2CGenesis+28%3A14%2CJeremiah+4%3A2%2CActs+3%3A25%2CGalatians+3%3A16%2CGalatians+3%3A8&version=ESV

"Sing praise to Yahweh, you saints of his. Give thanks to his holy name. For his anger is but for a moment. His favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may stay for the night, but joy comes in the morning." -Psalm 30:4-5 WEB

"Behold, I send my messenger, and he will prepare the way before me. And the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple; and the messenger of the covenant in whom you delight, behold, he is coming, says the LORD of hosts. But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears? For he is like a refiner's fire and like fullers' soap. He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the sons of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, and they will bring offerings in righteousness to the LORD. Then the offering of Judah and Jerusalem will be pleasing to the LORD as in the days of old and as in former years." -Malachi 3:1-4 ESV

“Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him if a great millstone were hung around his neck and he were thrown into the sea. And if your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life crippled than with two hands to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. And if your foot causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life lame than with two feet to be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to sin, tear it out. It is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than with two eyes to be thrown into hell, ‘where their worm does not die and the fire is not quenched.’ For everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good, but if the salt has lost its saltiness, how will you make it salty again? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.” -Mark 9:42-50 ESV (emphasis mine)

"Dear brothers and sisters, when I was with you I couldn’t talk to you as I would to spiritual people. I had to talk as though you belonged to this world or as though you were infants in Christ. I had to feed you with milk, not with solid food, because you weren’t ready for anything stronger. And you still aren’t ready, for you are still controlled by your sinful nature. You are jealous of one another and quarrel with each other. Doesn’t that prove you are controlled by your sinful nature? Aren’t you living like people of the world? When one of you says, “I am a follower of Paul,” and another says, “I follow Apollos,” aren’t you acting just like people of the world?

After all, who is Apollos? Who is Paul? We are only God’s servants through whom you believed the Good News. Each of us did the work the Lord gave us. I planted the seed in your hearts, and Apollos watered it, but it was God who made it grow. It’s not important who does the planting, or who does the watering. What’s important is that God makes the seed grow. The one who plants and the one who waters work together with the same purpose. And both will be rewarded for their own hard work. For we are both God’s workers. And you are God’s field. You are God’s building.

Because of God’s grace to me, I have laid the foundation like an expert builder. Now others are building on it. But whoever is building on this foundation must be very careful. For no one can lay any foundation other than the one we already have—Jesus Christ.

Anyone who builds on that foundation may use a variety of materials—gold, silver, jewels, wood, hay, or straw. But on the judgment day, fire will reveal what kind of work each builder has done. The fire will show if a person’s work has any value. If the work survives, that builder will receive a reward. But if the work is burned up, the builder will suffer great loss. The builder will be saved, but like someone barely escaping through a wall of flames.

Don’t you realize that all of you together are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God lives in you? God will destroy anyone who destroys this temple. For God’s temple is holy, and you are that temple." -1 Corinthians 3:1-17 NLT (emphasis mine)

"The holy prophetic Spirit taught us these things, saying through Moses that God said to the first-formed man, "Behold I have set before you good and evil, choose the good." (Dt. 30:15) And again through Isaiah, another prophet, this was said to the same purpose, as from God the Father and Master of all things: "Wash yourselves, be clean, take away wickednesses from your souls, learn to do good, give judgment for the orphan and defend the cause of the widow, and come and let us reason together, says the Lord. And though your sins be as scarlet, I will make them as white as wool, and though they be like crimson, I will make them as white as snow. And if you are willing and listen to me, you will eat the good of the land; but if you will not listen to me, the sword will devour you; for the mouth of the Lord has spoken these things." (Is. 1:16-20) The phrase, "The sword will devour you," does not mean that the disobedient will be slain by swords, but the sword of God is the fire, of which those who choose to do what is evil are made the fuel. Because of this he says, "A sword will devour you, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken it." For if he were speaking of a sword that cuts and at once destroys, he would not have said, "Will devour." -Justin Martyr, First Apology Chapter 44

"Now it came about, when mankind began to multiply on the face of the land, and daughters were born to them, that the sons of God saw that the daughters of mankind were beautiful; and they took wives for themselves, whomever they chose. Then the LORD said, “My Spirit will not remain with man forever, because he is also flesh; nevertheless his days shall be 120 years.” The Nephilim were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of mankind, and they bore children to them. Those were the mighty men who were of old, men of renown.

Then the LORD saw that the wickedness of mankind was great on the earth, and that every intent of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually. So the LORD was sorry (וַיִּנָּ֣חֶם) that He had made mankind on the earth, and He was grieved in His heart. Then the LORD said, “I will wipe out mankind whom I have created from the face of the land; mankind, and animals as well, and crawling things, and the birds of the sky. For I am sorry that I have made them.” -Genesis 6:1-7 NASB

[holdonendure]

AGAIN in the ninth year, in the tenth month, in the tenth day of the month, the Word of YAHUAH came unto me, saying, son of A'dam, write you the name את eth-of the day, even of את eth-this same day: the king of Babel set himself against Yerushalayim this same day. And utter a parable unto the rebellious house, and say unto them, Thus says ADONAI YAHUAH; Set on a pot, set it on, and also pour water into it: Gather the pieces thereof into it, even every good piece, the thigh, and the shoulder; fill it with the choice bones. Take the choice of the flock, and burn also the bones under it, and make it boil well, and let them seethe the bones of it therein. Wherefore thus says ADONAI YAHUAH; Woe to the bloody city, to the pot whose scum is therein, and whose scum is not gone out of it! bring it out piece by piece; let no lot fall upon it. For her blood is in the midst of her; she set it upon the top of a rock; she poured it not upon the ground, to cover it with dust; That it might cause fury to come up to take vengeance; I have set את eth-her blood upon the top of a rock, that it should not be covered. Therefore thus says ADONAI YAHUAH; Woe to the bloody city! I will even make the pile for fire great. Heap on wood, kindle the fire, consume the flesh, and spice it well, and let the bones be burned. Then set it empty upon the coals thereof, that the brass of it may be hot, and may burn, and that the filthiness of it may be molten in it, that the scum of it may be consumed. She has wearied herself with lies, and her great scum went not forth out of her: her scum shall be in the fire. In your filthiness is lewdness: because I have purged you, and you were not purged, you shall not be purged from your filthiness anymore, till I have caused את eth-my fury to rest upon you. I YAHUAH have spoken it: it shall come to pass, and I will do it; I will not go back, neither will I spare, neither will I repent; according to your ways, and according to your doings, shall they judge you, says ADONAI YAHUAH. Also the Word of YAHUAH came unto me, saying, son of A'dam, behold, I take away from you את eth-the desire of your eyes with a stroke: yet neither shall you mourn nor weep, neither shall your tears run down. Forbear to cry, make no mourning for the dead, bind the tire of your head upon you, and put on your shoes upon your feet, and cover not your lips, and eat not the bread of men. So I spoke unto the people in the morning: and at evening my woman died; and I did in the morning as I was commanded. And the people said unto me, Will you not tell us what these things are to us, that you do so? Then I answered them, The Word of YAHUAH came unto me, saying, Speak unto the house of Yashar'el, Thus says ADONAI YAHUAH; Behold, I will profane את eth-my sanctuary, the excellency of your strength, the desire of your eyes, and that which your soul pities; and your sons and your daughters whom ye have left shall fall by the sword. And ye shall do as I have done: ye shall not cover your lips, nor eat the bread of men. And your turbans shall be upon your heads, and your shoes upon your feet: ye shall not mourn nor weep; but ye shall pine away for your iniquities, and mourn one toward another. Thus Yechezq'el is unto you a sign: according to all that he has done shall ye do: and when this comes, ye shall know that I am ADONAI YAHUAH. Also, son of A'dam, shall it not be in the day when I take from them את eth-their strength, the joy of their glory, את eth-the desire of their eyes, and that את eth-whereupon they set their minds, their sons and their daughters, That he that escapes in that day shall come unto you, to cause you to hear it with your ears? In that day shall your mouth be opened to him את eth-which is escaped, and you shall speak, and be no more dumb: and you shall be a sign unto them; and they shall know that I am YAHUAH.

YECHEZQ'EL (EZEKIEL) 24 את CEPHER

[ffej16]

THEinc-HIM Daily Bible Meditation - February 20 - Full Text - Shabbat Shalom

FEBRUARY 20

PSALMS: 20, 50, 80, 110, 140

PROVERBS: 20

OLD TESTAMENT: 1 SAMUEL 12:1 - 13:23

NEW TESTAMENT: JOHN 7:1 - 30

PSALMS: 20

1 May the LORD answer you in the day of trouble.

May the name of the God of Ya`akov set you up on high, 

2 Send you help from the sanctuary,

Grant you support from Tziyon, 

3 Remember all your offerings,

And accept your burnt-sacrifice. Selah. 

4 May He grant you your heart's desire,

And fulfill all your counsel. 

5 We will triumph in your yeshu`ah.

In the name of our God we will set up our banners:

The LORD fulfill all your petitions. 

6 Now I know that the LORD saves his anointed.

He will answer him from his holy heaven,

With the saving strength of his right hand. 

7 Some trust in chariots, and some in horses,

But we trust the name of the LORD our God. 

8 They are bowed down and fallen,

But we rise up, and stand upright.

9 Save, LORD;

Let the King answer us when we call!

PSALMS: 50

1 The Mighty One, God, the LORD, speaks,

And calls the eretz from sunrise to sunset. 

2 Out of Tziyon, the perfection of beauty,

God shines forth. 

3 Our God comes, and does not keep silent.

A fire devours before him.

It is very tempestuous around him. 

4 He calls to the heavens above,

To the eretz, that he may judge his people: 

5 "Gather my holy ones together to me,

Those who have made a covenant with me by sacrifice." 

6 The heavens shall declare his righteousness,

For God himself is judge.

Selah. 

7 "Hear, my people, and I will speak;

Yisra'el, and I will testify against you.

I am God, your God. 

8 I don't rebuke you for your sacrifices.

Your burnt offerings are continually before me. 

9 I have no need for a bull from your stall,

Nor male goats from your pens. 

10 For every animal of the forest is mine,

And the cattle on a thousand hills. 

11 I know all the birds of the mountains.

The wild animals of the field are mine. 

12 If I were hungry, I would not tell you,

For the world is mine, and all that is in it.

13 Will I eat the flesh of bulls,

Or drink the blood of goats? 

14 Offer to God the sacrifice of thanksgiving.

Pay your vows to Ha`Elyon.

15 Call on me in the day of trouble.

I will deliver you, and you will honor me." 

16 But to the wicked God says,

"What right do you have to declare my statutes,

That you have taken my covenant on your lips,

17  Seeing you hate instruction,

And throw my words behind you?

18 When you saw a thief, you consented with him,

And have participated with adulterers. 

19 "You give your mouth to evil.

You harnesses your tongue for deceit. 

20 You sit and speak against your brother.

You slander your own mother's son. 

21 You have done these things, and I kept silent.

You thought that the "I AM" was just like you.

I will rebuke you, and accuse you in front of your eyes. 

22 "Now consider this, you who forget God,

Lest I tear you into pieces, and there be none to deliver. 

23 Whoever offers the sacrifice of thanksgiving glorifies me,

And prepares his way so that I will show God's salvation to him."

PSALMS: 80

1 Hear us, Shepherd of Yisra'el,

You who lead Yosef like a flock,

You who sit above the Keruvim, shine forth. 

2 Before Efrayim and Binyamin and Menashsheh,

stir up your might,

Come to save us. 

3 Turn us again, God.

Cause your face to shine,

And we will be saved.

4 LORD God Tzva'ot,

How long will you be angry against the prayer of your people? 

5 You have fed them with the bread of tears,

And given them tears to drink in large measure. 

6 You make us a source of contention to our neighbors.

Our enemies laugh among themselves. 

7 Turn us again,

God Tzva'ot.

Cause your face to shine,

And we will be saved. 

8 You brought a vine out of Mitzrayim.

You drove out the nations, and planted it. 

9 You cleared the ground for it.

It took deep root, and filled the land. 

10 The mountains were covered with its shadow.

Its boughs were like God's cedars. 

11 It sent out its branches to the sea,

Its shoots to the River. 

12 Why have you broken down its walls,

So that all those who pass by the way pluck it? 

13 The boar out of the wood ravages it.

The wild animals of the field feed on it. 

14 Turn again, we beg you, God Tzva'ot.

Look down from heaven, and see, and visit this vine, 

15 The stock which your right hand planted,

The branch that you made strong for yourself. 

16 It is burned with fire. It is cut down.

They perish at your rebuke. 

17  Let your hand be on the man of your right hand,

On the son of man whom you made strong for yourself. 

18 So we will not turn away from you.

Revive us, and we will call on your name. 

19 Turn us again, LORD God Tzva'ot.

Cause your face to shine, and we will be saved.

PSALMS: 110

1 The LORD says to my Lord, "Sit at my right hand,

Until I make your enemies your footstool for your feet." 

2 The LORD will send forth the rod of your strength out of Tziyon.

Rule in the midst of your enemies. 

3 Your people offer themselves willingly in the day of your power,

In holy array.

Out of the womb of the morning, you have the dew of your youth. 

4 The LORD has sworn, and will not change his mind:

"You are a Kohen forever in the order of Malki-Tzedek." 

5 The Lord is at your right hand.

He will crush kings in the day of his wrath.

6 He will judge among the nations.

He will heap up dead bodies.

He will crush the ruler of the whole eretz. 

7 He will drink of the brook in the way;

Therefore will he lift up his head.

PSALMS: 140

1 Deliver me, LORD, from the evil man.

Preserve me from the violent man; 

2 Those who devise mischief in their hearts.

They continually gather themselves together for war. 

3 They have sharpened their tongues like a serpent.

Viper's poison is under their lips.

Selah. 

4 LORD, keep me from the hands of the wicked.

Preserve me from the violent men:

Who have determined to trip my feet. 

5 The proud have hidden a snare for me,

They have spread the cords of a net by the path.

They have set traps for me.

Selah. 

6 I said to the LORD,

"You are my God.

" Listen to the cry of my petitions, LORD. 

7 LORD, the Lord, the strength of my yeshu`ah,

You have covered my head in the day of battle. 

8 LORD, don't grant the desires of the wicked.

Don't let their evil plans succeed, or they will become proud. Selah. 

9 As for the head of those who surround me,

Let the mischief of their own lips cover them. 

10 Let burning coals fall on them.

Let them be thrown into the fire,

Into miry pits, from where they never rise. 

11 An evil speaker won't be established in the eretz.

Evil will hunt the violent man to overthrow him. 

12 I know that the LORD will maintain the cause of the afflicted,

And justice for the needy. 

13 Surely the righteous will give thanks to your name.

The upright will dwell in your presence.

PROVERBS: 20

1 Wine is a mocker, and beer is a brawler;

Whoever is let astray by them is not wise. 

2 The terror of a king is like the roaring of a lion:

He who provokes him to anger forfeits his own life. 

3 It is an honor for a man to keep aloof from strife;

But every fool will be quarreling.

4 The sluggard will not plow by reason of the winter;

Therefore he shall beg in harvest, and have nothing. 

5 Counsel in the heart of man is like deep water;

But a man of understanding will draw it out.

6 Many men claim to be men of unfailing love,

But who can find a faithful man? 

7 A righteous man who walks in his integrity,

Blessed are his children after him. 

8 A king who sits on the throne of judgment

Scatters away all evil with his eyes. 

9 Who can say, "I have made my heart pure.

I am clean and without sin?" 

10 Differing weights and differing measures,

Both of them alike are an abomination to the LORD. 

11 Even a child makes himself known by his doings,

Whether his work is pure, and whether it is right. 

12 The hearing ear, and the seeing eye,

The LORD has made even both of them. 

13 Don't love sleep, lest you come to poverty;

Open your eyes, and you shall be satisfied with bread. 

14 "It's no good, it's no good," says the buyer;

But when he is gone his way, then he boasts.

15 There is gold and abundance of rubies;

But the lips of knowledge are a rare jewel. 

16 Take the garment of one who puts up collateral for a stranger;

And hold him in pledge for a wayward woman. 

17 Fraudulent food is sweet to a man,

But afterwards his mouth is filled with gravel. 

18 Plans are established by advice;

By wise guidance you wage war! 

19 He who goes about as a tale-bearer reveals secrets;

Therefore don't keep company with him who opens wide his lips. 

20 Whoever curses his father or his mother,

His lamp shall be put out in blackness of darkness. 

21 An inheritance quickly gained at the beginning,

Won't be blessed in the end. 

22 Don't say,

"I will pay back evil."

Wait for the LORD, and he will save you. 

23 The LORD detests differing weights,

And dishonest scales are not pleasing. 

24 A man's steps are from the LORD;

How then can man understand his way? 

25 It is a snare to a man make a rash dedication,

And later reconsider his vows. 

26 A wise king winnows out the wicked,

And drives the threshing wheel over them. 

27 The spirit of man is the LORD's lamp,

Searching all his innermost parts.

28 Love and faithfulness keep the king safe.

His throne is sustained by love. 

29 The glory of young men is their strength.

The splendor of old men is their gray hair. 

30 Wounding blows cleanse away evil,

And beatings purge the innermost parts.

OLD TESTAMENT: 1 SAMUEL 12:1 - 13:23

12:1 Shemu'el said to all Yisra'el, Behold, I have listened to your voice in all that you said to me, and have made a king over you. 2 Now, behold, the king walks before you; and I am old and gray-headed; and, behold, my sons are with you: and I have walked before you from my youth to this day. 3 Here I am: witness against me before the LORD, and before his anointed: whose ox have I taken? or whose donkey have I taken? or whom have I defrauded? whom have I oppressed? or of whose hand have I taken a ransom to blind my eyes therewith? and I will restore it you. 4 They said, You have not defrauded us, nor oppressed us, neither have you taken anything of any man's hand. 5 He said to them, the LORD is witness against you, and his anointed is witness this day, that you have not found anything in my hand. They said, He is witness. 6 Shemu'el said to the people, It is the LORD who appointed Moshe and Aharon, and that brought your fathers up out of the land of Mitzrayim. 7  Now therefore stand still, that I may plead with you before the LORD concerning all the righteous acts of the LORD, which he did to you and to your fathers. 8 When Ya`akov was come into Mitzrayim, and your fathers cried to the LORD, then the LORD sent Moshe and Aharon, who brought forth your fathers out of Mitzrayim, and made them to dwell in this place. 9 But they forgot the LORD their God; and he sold them into the hand of Sisera, captain of the host of Hatzor, and into the hand of the Pelishtim, and into the hand of the king of Mo'av; and they fought against them. 10 They cried to the LORD, and said, We have sinned, because we have forsaken the LORD, and have served the Ba`alim and the `Ashtarot: but now deliver us out of the hand of our enemies, and we will serve you. 11 The LORD sent Yerubba`al, and Bedan, and Yiftach, and Shemu'el, and delivered you out of the hand of your enemies on every side; and you lived in safety. 

12 When you saw that Nachash the king of the children of `Ammon came against you, you said to me, No, but a king shall reign over us; when the LORD your God was your king. 13 Now therefore see the king whom you have chosen, and whom you have asked for: and, behold, the LORD has set a king over you. 14 If you will fear the LORD, and serve him, and listen to his voice, and not rebel against the mitzvah of the LORD, and both you and also the king who reigns over you are followers of the LORD your God, [well]: 15 but if you will not listen to the voice of the LORD, but rebel against the mitzvah of the LORD, then will the hand of the LORD be against you, as it was against your fathers. 16 Now therefore stand still and see this great thing, which the LORD will do before your eyes. 17 Isn't it wheat harvest today? I will call to the LORD, that he may send thunder and rain; and you shall know and see that your wickedness is great, which you have done in the sight of the LORD, in asking you a king. 18 So Shemu'el called to the LORD; and the LORD sent thunder and rain that day: and all the people greatly feared the LORD and Shemu'el. 19 All the people said to Shemu'el, Pray for your servants to the LORD your God, that we not die; for we have added to all our sins [this] evil, to ask us a king. 20 Shemu'el said to the people, "Don't be afraid; you have indeed done all this evil; yet don't turn aside from following the LORD, but serve the LORD with all your heart: 21 and don't turn aside; for [then would you go] after vain things which can't profit nor deliver, for they are vain. 22 For the LORD will not forsake his people for his great name's sake, because it has pleased the LORD to make you a people to himself. 23 Moreover as for me, far be it from me that I should sin against the LORD in ceasing to pray for you: but I will instruct you in the good and the right way. 24 Only fear the LORD, and serve him in truth with all your heart; for consider how great things he has done for you. 25 But if you shall still do wickedly, you shall be consumed, both you and your king."

13:1 Sha'ul was [forty] years old when he began to reign; and when he had reigned two years over Yisra'el, 2 Sha'ul chose him three thousand men of Yisra'el, whereof two thousand were with Sha'ul in Mikhmash and in the Mount of Beit-El, and one thousand were with Yonatan in Gevah of Binyamin: and the rest of the people he sent every man to his tent. 3 Yonatan struck the garrison of the Pelishtim that was in Geva: and the Pelishtim heard of it. Sha'ul blew the shofar throughout all the land, saying, Let the Hebrews hear. 4 All Yisra'el heard say that Sha'ul had struck the garrison of the Pelishtim, and also that Yisra'el was had in abomination with the Pelishtim. The people were gathered together after Sha'ul to Gilgal. 5 The Pelishtim assembled themselves together to fight with Yisra'el, thirty thousand chariots, and six thousand horsemen, and people as the sand which is on the sea-shore in multitude: and they came up, and encamped in Mikhmash, eastward of Beit-Aven. 6 When the men of Yisra'el saw that they were in a strait (for the people were distressed), then the people did hide themselves in caves, and in thickets, and in rocks, and in coverts, and in pits. 7 Now some of the Hebrews had gone over the Yarden to the land of Gad and Gil`ad; but as for Sha'ul, he was yet in Gilgal, and all the people followed him trembling. 8 He stayed seven days, according to the set time that Shemu'el [had appointed]: but Shemu'el didn't come to Gilgal; and the people were scattered from him. 9Sha'ul said, Bring here the burnt offering to me, and the peace-offerings. He offered the burnt offering.10 It came to pass that as soon as he had made an end of offering the burnt offering, behold, Shemu'el came; and Sha'ul went out to meet him, that he might greet him. 11 Shemu'el said, What have you done? Sha'ul said, Because I saw that the people were scattered from me, and that you didn't come within the days appointed, and that the Pelishtim assembled themselves together at Mikhmash; 12 therefore said I, Now will the Pelishtim come down on me to Gilgal, and I haven't entreated the favor of the LORD: I forced myself therefore, and offered the burnt offering. 13 Shemu'el said to Sha'ul, You have done foolishly; you have not kept the mitzvah of the LORD your God, which he commanded you: for now would the LORD have established your kingdom on Yisra'el forever. 14 But now your kingdom shall not continue: the LORD has sought him a man after his own heart, and the LORD has appointed him to be prince over his people, because you have not kept that which the LORD commanded you. 15 Shemu'el arose, and got him up from Gilgal to Gevah of Binyamin. Sha'ul numbered the people who were present with him, about six hundred men. 16 Sha'ul, and Yonatan his son, and the people who were present with them, abode in Geva of Binyamin: but the Pelishtim encamped in Mikhmash. 17 The spoilers came out of the camp of the Pelishtim in three companies: one company turned to the way that leads to Ofrat, to the land of Shual; 18 and another company turned the way to Beit-Horon; and another company turned the way of the border that looks down on the valley of Tzevo`im toward the wilderness. 19 Now there was no smith found throughout all Eretz-Yisra'el; for the Pelishtim said, Lest the Hebrews make them swords or spears: 20 but all the Yisra'elites went down to the Pelishtim, to sharpen every man his plowshare, mattock, ax, and sickle; 21 yet they had a file for the mattocks, and for the plowshares, and for the forks, and for the axes, and to set the goads. 22 So it came to pass in the day of battle, that there was neither sword nor spear found in the hand of any of the people who were with Sha'ul and Yonatan: but with Sha'ul and with Yonatan his son was there found. 23 The garrison of the Pelishtim went out to the pass of Mikhmash.

NEW TESTAMENT: JOHN 7:1 - 30

7:1 After these things, Yeshua walked in the Galil, for he would not walk in Yehudah, because the Yehudim sought to kill him. 

2 Now the feast of the Yehudim, the Feast of Sukkot, was at hand. 

3 His brothers therefore said to him, "Depart from here, and go into Yehudah, that your talmidim also may see your works which you do.

4 For no one does anything in secret, and himself seeks to be known openly. If you do these things, reveal yourself to the world." 

5 For even his brothers didn't believe in him. 

6 Yeshua therefore said to them, "My time has not yet come, but your time is always ready. 

7 The world can't hate you, but it hates me, because I testify about it, that its works are evil. 

8 You go up to the feast. I am not yet going up to this feast, because my time is not yet fulfilled." 

9 Having said these things to them, he stayed in the Galil. 

10 But when his brothers had gone up to the feast, then he also went up, not publicly, but as it were in secret. 

11 The Yehudim therefore sought him at the feast, and said, "Where is he?" 

12 There was much murmuring among the multitudes concerning him. Some said, "He is a good man." Others said, "Not so, but he leads the multitude astray." 

13Yet no one spoke openly of him for fear of the Yehudim. 

14 But when it was now the midst of the feast, Yeshua went up into the temple and taught. 

15 The Yehudim therefore marveled, saying, "How does this man know letters, having never been educated?" 

16 Yeshua therefore answered them, "My teaching is not mine, but his who sent me. 

17  If anyone desires to do his will, he will know of the teaching, whether it is from God, or if I speak from myself. 

18 He who speaks from himself seeks his own glory, but he who seeks the glory of him who sent him, the same is true, and no unrighteousness is in him. 

19 Didn't Moshe give you the law, and yet none of you keeps the law? Why do you seek to kill me?" 

20 The multitude answered, "You have a demon! Who seeks to kill you?" 

21 Yeshua answered them, "I did one work, and you all marvel because of it.

22 Moshe has given you circumcision (not that it is of Moshe, but of the fathers), and on the Shabbat you circumcise a boy. 

23 If a boy receives circumcision on the Shabbat, that the law of Moshe may not be broken, are you angry with me, because I made a man every bit whole on the Shabbat? 

24 Don't judge according to appearance, but judge righteous judgment." 

25 Some therefore of them of Yerushalayim said, "Isn't this he whom they seek to kill? 

26 Behold, he speaks openly, and they say nothing to him. Can it be that the rulers indeed know that this is truly the Messiah? 

27  However we know where this man comes from, but when the Messiah comes, no one will know where he comes from." 

28 Yeshua therefore cried out in the temple, teaching and saying, "You both know me, and know where I am from. I have not come of myself, but he who sent me is true, whom you don't know. 

29 I know him, because I am from him, and he sent me." 

30 They sought therefore to take him; but no one laid a hand on him, because his hour had not yet come.