#“I see the danger - It's written there in your eyes

[moritofu]

“ Just give me one Chance, and I’ll make you feel what Heaven is ”

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ; My very first writinggg that I have uploadedd ekkkk, i’m exciteddd & i hope you guys like ittt <3. Pleasee forgive me if you see grammar errors, as English is not my first language ! Also might be a bit cheesy !

𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Satoru trying to make you jealous but got UNO reverse card back to him. (Desperate Satoru)

𝐖𝐂 ; I genuinely don’t know 😔🤞

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; Pure fluff, kissing, Swearing

  ۫   ּ  ֗  ִ    ۪  ⊹  ˑ  ִ  ֗   ִ  ۫   ˑ   ᳝ ࣪   ۫   ּ  ֗  ִ    ۪  ⊹  ˑ  ִ  ֗   ִ  ۫   ˑ   ᳝ ࣪   ۫   ּ  ֗  ִ    ۪  ⊹ 

"Suguru, don't you think the girl right there is just so attractive!" Satoru's loud voice can be heard from the other classroom as the girl he was trying to make jealous was not even paying him a pinch of an attention. Oh how you had hurt him for not giving him enough attention, let alone look at him for a second, you were clearly ignoring his annoying voice and presence.

Meanwhile Suguru and Shoko looked at the stubborn paled dude beside them, they knew that he was starting to get desperate. Although they were excited for the upcoming dramas, they knew how dramatic Satoru can get everytime he doesn't get what he wants.

On the other hand, you were busy doing your work that Yaga had assigned you, the sound of Satoru making you irritated as you can't focus on your work. To add onto that, he was even trying to make you feel jealous?? Honestly, it was working. You thought. As the three friends were talking, you can't help but eavesdrop and listen to their dumb conversation.

"Stop trying hard, Satoru. She's clearly busy." Suguru replied back while leaning on his seat and crossing his arms, manspreading was his go-to position everytime. While Shoko was copying the written notes on the board. Yaga had dismissed you guys early than the original time, but allowed you guys to stay inside for awhile.

While talking, the dismissal time came and grabbed your bags walking side to side with Utahime.

"Maybe she's just not into you." Shoko bluntly said, grabbing her school bag. Walking in the middle, between the two guys.

"That's possibly the rudest thing you've said to me, Ieirie, not nice." Satoru replied while pouting at his friend, and having his hands on his heart as if he got hurt badly. Trying to show that he was hurt by what she just said.

"It's true, I even heard her and iori talking about this one dude she saw from the cafe they went to.. it was yesterday I think." Shoko added, this made Satoru's heart burn in flames. Jealousy? Anger? h the guy's safety was infact in danger.

Satoru felt the urge to hollow the purple the guy. Oh but anyways, who won't reject the Gojo Satoru? His mind was in shambles. His yet-to-be girlfriend was admiring other boys. And by just thinking about it, it made Satoru a bit upset and jealous. He wants to be the one who she thinks about. Oh poor Satoru.

The two friends were horrified, looking at their friend who just zoned out. He was whipped.

. . .

"I'll be getting some drinks from the vending machine, Iori." I said as she was sitting down on one of the garden's bench, swaying her legs back and forth, she nodded at me while putting my bag down beside her figure.

While walking to the nearest vending machine, and to my nightmare, I saw Satoru walking to the same direction as me. Oh God.

To my surprises he wasn't looking at me, it was obvious he was trying his hardest to avoid me. Hmm.. Guess he lost feelings? I didn't know why I was feeling sad just because of a mere thoughts. Obviously, I don't like the white haired dude.. Or unsure.

Grabbing my soda, I turned my back and heard my name from his low voice. I never heard him calling me from his low toned voice before. It made me stopped walking on my tracks as I slowly turned back on his tall figure. His white hair was a bit messy, his of course charming blue eyes was staring at me intensely. The tension was getting hotter and hotter every second. Oh Gosh, what is he doing to me.

. . .

"Was the guy that attractive???" I asked, I probably look so hideous right now. I just can't help it. Suguru was pointing out how I was looking so furious. And here I am right now, jealousy was driving me insane. But talking to her made me feel better, oh how she looks so innocent but so beautiful at the same time.

"What do you mean?? What guy, Satoru?" Her soft voice was enough for me to be happy and forge the jealousy I was feeling.

"Shoko told me, was the guy attractive? More than me?? You don't know how Jealous I am right now."

"I don't know what you're talk-" She was talking but then stopped, she was frowning at me. I was having the urge to kiss her right on the spot, but she might think of me as a dirty bastard. I didn't work hard to get a good reputation for nothing.

"Oh... You were talking about that guy? Why do you wanna know. Oh yes, he was attractive" Her voice changed from soft to a teasing one. Does she enjoy me being jealous?

"Really? Much more attractive than me? But not richer than me-" I was blubbering until I felt her tiny hands covering my mouth, forcing me to shut up.

"Really Satoru." She interrupted while looking at me annoyingly, what did I do now???

While she stopped covering my mouth, I walked closer to her. The gap was nowhere to be found as our body was pressed together.

"Satoru!" She yelped softly, her figure's obviously smaller than mine as I dominate against her. Her round eyes looking up at me, waiting for my next move.

Her hand moved to my chest, trying to push me but didn't even made me move a bit.

“Can I??” Although, I have the chance to finally kiss her, I asked for a consent as I didn’t want to make her even more uncomfortable.

“Go for it.” I didn’t even exactly let her finish off her sentence, as I grabbed her chin up and place my lips on where it rightfully belonged to. Her soft lips.

The kiss was sweet and memorable, her cheeks were bright red when I pulled away. Just like a tomato, but a cute one. After the kiss, I felt like an old kid getting the candy that I’ve been wanting, if this was a dream, I’d gladly not wake up and be stuck right here with her.

The two of us were busy staring at each other, my hands on her waist, caging her. We both heard a sigh in front of us, looking at the three figures, we saw Suguru, Shoko and Utahime.

“Pay up losers, told ya.” Suguru grinned in victory while the two girls who had unpleasant look gave out few yens and gave it to Suguru.

“I didn’t expect Gojo to have some balls left in him!” Utahime spoke, while Shoko was left with a nonchalant expression.

The two love birds laughed awkwardly, pulling away from each other. Shyness was the only thing you can describe everytime they look at each other’s eyes.

[onepiecereactions]

A little guide for Trafalgar Law, to learn how to live with Monkey D Luffy. Written by Nico Robin.

A little guide for Trafalgar Law, to learn how to live with Monkey D Luffy. Written by Nico Robin.

OS, around 1k words.

A little guide for Trafalgar Law, to learn how to live with Monkey D Luffy. Written by Nico Robin.

- Introduction

Congratulations Trafalgar Law! You have just created a symbolic alliance with my captain, Monkey D Luffy.

I therefore allow myself to transmit this little guide to you in order to help you for this new life in community that awaits you.

Living with my dear captain can be a troubling experience, I admit it. But you will come out of this experience stronger! If Luffy does not kill us all first because of his stupidity, of course.

I wrote this document with great pleasure. It will be divided into several parts to facilitate your learning. Do not be surprised by all this work, you will thank me soon enough, I am sure!

If you have any questions, do not hesitate to contact me, I would be happy to help you. (Do not go to Roronoa Zoro or Usopp, they will mislead you without realizing it. If I am not available, refer to Doctor Chopper.)

- Respect

Respect is an extremely important concept for our captain. Luffy will grant you his respect easily, if you meet the following conditions: respect your crew, respect our crew, and respect civilians who do not harm you.

The crew's philosophy is rather peaceful. We only attack a man or a woman if we are in danger, or if the said person represents a danger to others.

We make a special exception for the high-ranking officers of the navy. In particular Luffy, Zoro and Sanji who take a malicious pleasure in attacking them. Do not hesitate to join them if you wish.

Our captain however has a particular vision of respect concerning material goods. Know, and do not forget, that Luffy does not respect any object. If you have to rush into a building instead of going through the door to go faster, the building will be smashed. If you have to fight in a bar, beer mugs will be the first weapons!

Note however an exception to this rule: Luffy respects our ship to the highest degree. The slightest broken wooden board or the smallest holed sail will be experienced very difficultly by our captain.

However, our dear carpenter Franky, is always glad to take care of our ship.

Another important aspect to consider: morals.

Luffy does not respect moral rules. Do not be surprised to see a Monkey D Luffy walking around naked in the ship because he smelled the appetizing meals of our dear cook Sanji.

Do not be stunned either to see him picking his nose while he talks to you. It is even possible that a booger falls on your coat inadvertently. In this case, I advise you to apply hot water quickly.

- Community life

Community life, and more particularly with Luffy, can be disconcerting at first.

I could give you many recommendations, but I will limit myself to the two most important in my eyes: the bathroom and the culinary protections.

Bathroom: Be aware that Luffy gets up very late and therefore goes to bed late. Our captain enjoys taking a hot bath every evening, which allows him to relax after a day of fighting or napping. However, he sometimes spends a long time splashing around. It is therefore possible that when you wake up, there will be no more hot water available. We are currently in discussions with the rest of the crew to resolve this problem. In the meantime, I can only advise you to take your bath in the evening, before Luffy. Also, be careful not to touch the plastic ducks that are wandering around the bathroom. They are annoying, I know, but our dear captain loves above all to play with his ducks during his bath. Do not be surprised if, some days, you see the ducks stacked in pyramids. Our captain has them take part in a synchronized swimming competition that he was able to admire on the island of the fish-men.

Also, but this concerns our dear navigator, I strongly advise you not to touch any of her beauty products! You would end up with a debt bigger than your bounty on your head! If necessary, do not hesitate to dip into my products.

Culinary protections: Meals are sacred moments in the day of our dear captain. With a few variations of the things you consider sacred in your life. We are extremely lucky to live alongside an outstanding cook. Dishes in sauce are his specialty. However, you will rarely eat them. But when you do, you will receive a small personal note from the chef himself warning you, so that you can equip yourself with a protective overcoat. Our captain eats a lot and very quickly. Dishes in sauce are therefore carnage when you eat in the same room as him. Believe me, if you value your clothes, take an overcoat. You can find some in the bathroom in the second closet.

- Hobbies

Our captain's hobbies are certainly quite different from yours in my humble opinion. You will rarely see our captain immersed in one of my archeology books or any other encyclopedia. Indeed, Luffy's hobbies are more "childish" I would say. That is why it is imperative that you have small balls of wax for your ears. Right now, Chopper, Luffy and Usopp are starting a choir. A few wrong notes may get lost. Don't worry, we are not torturing anyone, it's just Luffy singing. If you want, you can of course join the choir. They perform every Thursday night.

- Air transport

Last crucial point in my opinion: air transport. Maybe you have never had the opportunity to fly, especially you who live in a submarine. But living with Luffy involves unexpected flights.

Our dear captain's devil fruit is very useful, even more so when he does not feel like walking and prefers to swing us all in the air. I can only recommend that you take anti-nausea medication every morning.

Unfortunately we are not able to predict our captain's mood swings. We also recommend that you always carry a life jacket, instantly inflatable, in your pocket. It could save your life, especially since you are a devil fruit user. You can get this life jacket instantly inflatable in the various shops of the Sabaody amusement park. In the meantime, you can always borrow some from our personal reserve. In these moments, make sure you are near someone who can swim.

-Conclusion

I conclude this first little guide which is intended to be reassuring. If you would like more information on various subjects, do not hesitate to contact me, I would be delighted to write you a second guide.

Nota Bene: The Straw Hat Crew represents a united and loving family. We will never judge you. By making this alliance, you enter our family. I sincerely hope that it can bring you all the love, comfort and happiness that it has given me since the beginning of my adventure.

Sincerely,

Nico Robin.

[echo-riot]

✞⛧Fading Love (Abby x Reader)✞⛧

Warnings: graphic violence, emotional distress, angst, infection (zombie-related), grief, sad ending

An: Another one from the drafts ✌️����

The air is thick with dust and the heavy scent of decay. You can feel it in your bones, that oppressive weight that only the world after everything has crumbled can bring. Every scavenger’s mission is filled with the possibility of danger, but you and Abby have become efficient at navigating the wasteland, like two hunters in sync. That’s why this feels different. You didn’t expect to feel so… vulnerable.

The two of you have been out all day, the sun now dipping low, casting long shadows through the overgrown streets. You hadn’t thought it would be a problem, at first, when you spotted that small building—just another old store, its windows long shattered, half-buried under vines and debris. But now, standing with Abby by your side, you wish you had listened to the gnawing sense of unease.

You’ve been in worse places, done worse things, survived worse situations. But as you step into the dark interior of the building, your foot catches on something hidden beneath the layers of rotting wood and scrap metal. You curse, but before you can steady yourself, the creature comes out of nowhere. A click of claws against concrete, followed by the guttural hiss of an infected, and then—pain.

The sting hits your leg first, a hot burst of fire shooting up your calf as the infected’s teeth sink into your flesh. You scream in shock, stumbling backward, but Abby is there—always there—pulling you away, her strong arms gripping your shoulders. She swings her crowbar with precision, the infected’s skull cracking open in an instant. But by then, it’s already too late.

“Shit,” Abby mutters, her voice strained with that raw edge you know so well. She’s already kneeling beside you, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. “You okay?”

The world feels slow, like you’re watching from somewhere far off. Your breath is coming in shallow gasps, but you know what’s happened even before you look down at your leg. The deep puncture marks are already swelling with a sickening tinge of purple, blood welling around the wound. Your fingers tremble as you touch it, knowing full well that the infection is already starting to spread.

“Abby…” you whisper, your voice barely a breath.

Her eyes are wide, and you can see the panic clawing its way up from the pit of her stomach, but she’s fighting it. She’s always so strong, so composed in the face of danger, and yet right now, you can see how utterly helpless she feels.

“Don’t worry,” she says, though it doesn’t sound convincing. Her fingers graze your cheek, and you can feel the tremble in her touch. “I’ll get you back to camp. We’ll figure it out. I’ll fix this.”

But you know. You’ve known from the moment that bite sank into your leg that there’s no coming back from this. The infection spreads too quickly. There’s no cure. No matter how hard Abby tries to save you, the end has already been written.

You force a small, weak smile, but it’s hollow. “It’s okay, Abby.” The words are barely above a whisper, but she hears them, her brow furrowing, a fresh wave of panic clouding her gaze.

“No,” she breathes, her voice tight, almost pleading. “Don’t say that. I can get help. We’ll find a way.”

You want to tell her that there’s no point, but you can’t bring yourself to crush whatever hope she’s clinging to. So instead, you look up at her, your vision starting to blur at the edges. You can see her trying to steady herself, her jaw clenched as she pulls you into her arms. You know what she’s thinking: she’s already planning a dozen ways to save you, even though she knows there’s no saving you from this. The thought of losing you is enough to make her break, to make her desperate.

But there’s a finality to this moment, something that both of you have been trying to deny for months now. That unspoken thing that’s always hovered between you, ever since you first met. The way you felt when her eyes softened just a little too much when you laughed, when you caught her lingering glances. You’d never said it out loud, but you’ve been waiting for it, just like she has. Waiting for the right moment to bridge the gap between you.

You don’t have time for that anymore.

“Abby…” you murmur, your hand weakly reaching for hers, your fingers trembling. She looks down at you, her face drawn tight with worry, but there’s something else too—a quiet sorrow, as if she already knows what you’re going to say.

You reach up, your other hand pulling her closer, your lips brushing against her cheek. You can feel the warmth of her skin against yours, the familiar strength of her body. She’s everything you’ve ever wanted, everything you’ve ever needed, and you’re not sure why you waited so long to let her know.

“I love you,” you breathe, the words tasting like bittersweet honey. They come out so easily, and yet you’ve been holding them in for so long, waiting for a moment that never came.

Abby’s breath catches in her throat. “Don’t,” she whispers, her voice trembling with raw emotion. “Don’t say that. Don’t leave me. Please.”

But you know it’s too late. You can feel the infection crawling up your veins, darkening your skin, numbing you from the inside out. Your heartbeat is slowing, and there’s nothing either of you can do to stop it. The world around you seems to be closing in, but in the distance, you hear her voice, soft and filled with a desperation that makes your chest tighten.

“I’ve wanted this too,” you say softly, your eyes locking with hers, and for the first time in months, you can see the same truth reflected in her gaze. The pain of knowing that it’s too late for anything more, but the desire to feel the closeness before the end.

Abby hesitates, just for a moment, her eyes searching yours, but she knows. She knows what this is. And as she lowers her lips to yours, the kiss is soft at first, tentative and unsure, as if neither of you wants to let go of the moment, even though it’s fleeting.

But the kiss deepens, and everything you’ve been holding inside spills out. The love, the longing, the ache of knowing it’s not enough, that this moment will be your last.

When you pull back, her eyes are shining with unshed tears, her face a mask of anguish, but you can see the understanding between you. The kiss was everything it needed to be: a farewell, a final act of love in a world where so little of it remains.

The world around you fades, the edges of your vision blurring, darkening. Your body grows heavier, the cold creeping up your spine. You know what’s coming, and as much as you want to cling to the fading warmth of Abby’s touch, you feel the sickness crawl deeper inside you. Your heart is slowing, the infection taking its toll on you. You can feel the numbness spreading, and you know, with every heartbeat, that there’s no coming back from this.

You hear Abby’s voice again, shaking with desperation, but it’s too far now. “Please, don’t leave me. I love you…” Her hands are still cupping your face, her fingers trembling as if she can hold on just a little longer, but you know the truth. There’s nothing left to hold onto.

“I love you,” you repeat, barely able to force the words out. It hurts, every breath feels like a weight, but you need her to know. You need her to hear it because you’re not sure she’ll ever hear it again. “Please… just remember that. You’re… everything to me.”

The world continues to darken, and you feel her lean closer, her lips brushing your forehead. She’s crying now, her tears falling on your face, and it’s like her heart is shattering with every drop. But you know it’s inevitable. You know she’s doing what needs to be done, even though it’s killing her inside.

“I’m so sorry,” Abby whispers, her voice breaking between each word. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I can’t— I can’t let you turn. I can’t lose you like this.”

Your eyes flicker open one last time to meet hers, her face a blur of emotion, her features twisted with grief, but you see the love in her gaze. It’s the same love you’ve felt all along, but now there’s nothing you can do to change the outcome. You’ve run out of time.

“Please,” she says again, her voice trembling. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

You don’t have the strength to answer. All you can do is squeeze her hand weakly, trying to tell her it’s okay, that you don’t blame her. But you don’t think she’s listening anymore. She’s shaking her head, her face twisted in anguish as she pulls away from you, her breath ragged, raw with pain.

The sound of her sobs fills the silence, and then you hear the distinct, sharp click of a gun being cocked.

Your heart stops, but you know what’s coming. You know what she has to do. You want to tell her it’s okay, but the words die on your tongue. She’s already made the decision for both of you.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers again, almost too soft to hear. Then, there’s the deafening crack of the gunshot, and everything goes still.

It feels like your world ends in a single, violent second. There’s no pain, no more fear, just… nothing.

Abby’s voice, barely a broken breath, drifts through the empty space that’s left. “I’m so sorry. I love you. I couldn’t… I couldn’t let you go like that. I’m sorry…”

[rhyrhy]

Ok I've never seen someone write this but viking abby has been playing in my brain 🥰

AHHHHH I HAVE THE PERFECT STORY FOR THIS IN MT NOTES POOKIEEE 💐

Headcannons

Viking Abby! who definitely names all her swords. When teased or asked about it, she’d explain how it ‘gave them extra strength.’. 

Viking Abby! Who sucked at hnefatafl, and when she was close to losing, she would hold your eye contact and swipe the pieces onto the floor.

Viking Abby! Who absolutely loves the longship, always volunteering to row because she can’t really sit still and secretly enjoys showing off. You’d catch her flexing as she rows and giving you that little smirk if she sees you looking. Followed by a soft, “See something you like?”

Viking Abby! Who takes her braiding very seriously. Her hair is always pulled back into perfect, intricate braids for battle. If you’re close to her, she’ll insist on braiding your hair too, saying it’s a “warrior’s bond”.

Viking Abby! Who hates the cold and gets grumpy during long winters, always complaining but secretly enjoying the chance to spend more time indoors with you. She’d spend the nights sharpening her weapons by the fire while stealing glances your way.

Draft/storyline idea in my notes

The haunting memory of Abby’s father’s death echoed in her mind as she stood at the helm of ‘the viper’, continuing his journey in his memory. The same crew that had pulled her from the wreckage of the attack on our village, the one that took his life, stood beside her. We were entering dangerous waters in the Caribbean, but she pushed forward—it was just another voyage.

She jolted from sleep by screams. Her ship was under attack Grabbing her sword, she rushed into the chaos.

As she fought to defend the crew, abby blocked a strike, grabbing a woman’s arm. Her sword faltered, and you pressed the advantage, knocking it aside. As their eyes locked, and her heart stopped.

“Y/n?”

The memory of two girls laughing, running on this very ship, clashed with the vision of your family leaving hers behind, abandoning them in chaos when fleeing the raid that took her father from her.

“Abigail ?” You whispered, guilt and disbelief written on your face “I thought you—”

“You left us. You left me.” She snapped of anger, her grip tightened on her weapon.

But Before either of them could speak again, a massive wave hit, Clanks of metal faded. sending you both overboard into the freezing water.

Abby woke, gasping for air, sprawled on a rocky shore. Her muscles ached from the cold, her clothes soaked. Struggling to her feet, she scanned the beach, trying to orient herself.

You choked out a mouthful of water, catching your breath. Sand stuck to your face, hair, everywhere.

Once your thoughts came back to you, you glanced around you, seeing wherever the hell the water had taken you.

With a heavy breath you closed your eyes for a moment, trying not to freak out. The water was unpredictable but sending your long lost friend your way? especially when how things ended years ago, felt like a cruel joke.

The reflection of your face came into view when her boots landed in front of you. You slowly looked up to the woman before you…and oh her face? That look in her eye of hurt and anger

nothing was going to be as cruel as abby once she gotten a hold on you.

[silence-ofthe-llamas]

The Mecha AU-AU continues. In todays episode; the Protectobots exist, Trepan is weird, and Vortex gets a pleasant (?) surprise.

I've also written an UNGODLY amount of Combaticon pre-mech content so ig that's gonna have to escape containment at some point, weeh.

“Hey, isn’t that Felix?”

Hot Spot watched the TV in the break room intently as he drank his coffee. His cereal sat half-eaten and forgotten on the table in front of him. Blades looked over from the toaster, flinching when his toast popped up.

“Felix?” Blades asked. “What, on TV?” He asked in disbelief. He rounded the counter and jumped over the back of the sofa to sit next to his commander. “No way.”

“Seriously – look!” Hot Spot grabbed the remote and rewound, pausing when Felix had come up out of the joint of a mech, looking at something behind the camera in pure relief.

“Holy shit. That is Felix!”

“Look – he gets into that mech.” Hot Spot wound it forwards, showing the brief moment of Felix climbing up and slipping into the face of the mech, the visor snapping shut behind him. “Do you think he’s a pilot?”

“No, no way – he’s a medic. He never ever wanted to pilot, they’d have to be really desperate for them if they’re resorting to using their medical crew.”

“He seems way too comfortable getting into that thing.” Hot Spot shuddered. “It looked like it was eating him.”

“Don’t, that’s creepy.” Blades cringed, climbing back over the sofa to rescue his toast.

“Stop that.” Hot Spot scolded. “Just walk, it’s not far!”

Blades ignored him. “Have you heard the rumours about that base? With all the body bags? I wonder what that was all about.”

Hot Spot rolled his eyes and returned to his cereal. “No idea. I guess when you’re fighting quintessons your life expectancy isn’t great.”

“Neither is ours, and we don’t have giant metal exoskeletons or unexplainable numbers of body bags. What’s their excuse?”

Hot spot shrugged. “No idea. Why don’t you ask them?”

“Oh, good shout – I’ll text Felix.”

“Blades-”

“Relax! I’m not going to say anything stupid.”

“You said that last time and look where that got us.”

“Yeah, right, fair, whatever.” Blades waved him off dismissively. “I’ll just mention I saw him on TV, see?” He turned his phone around to show Hot Spot. “Totes fine, perfectly safe, nothing could possibly go wrong. Worst case scenario, he ignores me, best case he says ‘haha yup’ or something and that’s the end of that.”

“Don’t make him uncomfortable. You know he asked to be left alone.”

“We send each other reels on Instagram again, I think it’s okay if I reach out.”

Hot Spot sighed and unpaused the TV.

-------------------------------------

The tech was too new when they shoved their first AI’s into it.

They’d tested a connection between live pilots already - two separate units that operated as one. They found that it worked, to a point. The two consciousnesses would wave, but never shake hands - the physical contact snapped their psyche. It was only when they had developed the RABIT units that they could truly operate as one – but the pinch point had always been getting them into the same machine . It just did things to people.

Prowl and Jazz had been their best duo’s team, their dark horse - the pair flew under the radar until they were fitted with the experimental tech and blew the project out of the water straight into the lap of investment. And, Swindle noticed, into the scope of

Trepan.

He giggled as he watched them, humming and hawing. Which one? Which one would be his sacrifice?

They’re married , they argued. You can’t force one to pilot the corpse, that’s wildly unethical.

Fine. Then we find a new pilot.

Swindle could only watch. If he objected now, he’d cast doubt onto himself. Vortex would be in more danger. His team might stay in that poxy little box forever.

Vortex himself was a monster. As a prototype, he was huge. Way too big. The technology hadn’t been fine tuned yet to bring the scale back down - and so he towered above them, a monument to their attempt at survival.

And he’d survived. The experimental tech, too fresh and too new, had destroyed the rest of his prototype cohort. Out of the original 15, he alone survived. The 11 carved into his shoulder shone in the red of the blood that they had spilled to get there.

The next cohort was smaller. Swindle hadn’t put forwards any of his team.

You want people who will survive - these guys ain’t it. I know my team, they haven’t got the moxy. The tech needs to be more stable.

Trepan didn’t raise his brows. He seemed to delight in his harsh words, and selected 5 other banked sacrifices.

They all died too. Burned out. Literally. They’d decreased the size of the mechs, the faults and failures of the predecessors informing their design.

Vortex stood alone.

Swindle chewed his nails until they bled fretting over his mental state. He couldn’t get close to him, he couldn’t go and check - he couldn’t even acknowledge him. The magnifying glass pinned him, every breath studied. The tech was so new. Was it really still

Vortex in there? Was he recognisable? Did he know what was going on? Did he know anything ?

God Tex, I’m so sorry.

The pilots falling out of him started telling horror stories.

There was something else in there with them. Something beyond the AI, a malevolent presence in there that wanted to hurt them. The researchers had been dismissive, but Trepan had been intrigued. Swindle had been corralled by him, armed with questions.

What had Svastjan been like in life? Did he have the same devotion to violence in life as he did in death? Was he particularly skilled with any weapons? Were any other members of his team like him? Or was he alone in his brutality?

He told him the truth. He was like this. He had a tendency to jump on the heads of the ones he’d knocked to the ground, to force himself through their body. Pistols and knives were his speciality. And no – he was alone. The others were what they liked to call well adjusted.

The expectation he had was that Trepan would be disappointed, but he had just hummed and nodded his head, quickly returning his attention to the next mech to come off the assembly line.

He uncomfortably ran a hand through his hair as he saw the footage that aired. Trepan was sat beside him, still as much of a crane of a man as he had been back in the research lab. He sat with his legs daintily crossed, his hands resting on his knees as he sat up perfectly ram-rod straight.

“Who is the man so comfortable with our pet?” Trepan asked.

He’d started referring to Vortex as his pet as some kind of cute nickname for him – he’d survived so much and had given him so much information to chew on that he’d grown a real soft-spot for him.

“That’s Felix.”

“His pilot?”

“Correct. First one he hasn’t outright murdered or mentally destroyed.”

“Fascinating.” He steepled his fingers together, eyes wide and beady, taking in all the information on the screen. “He seems to be very familiar with the mech.”

“Felix is a weird one.” Swindle knew he had to toe the line, to act as a gossip to displace the suspicion, to offload it somewhere else. “He’s weirdly attached to his mech – he’s always around it.” He hoped the look on Trepans face wasn’t a bad sign.

“Vortex is a success. Finally.” He leaned back in satisfaction. “We can justify further use of his batch. As their guardian… choose. Who is next to be interred into living metal?”

Swindle remembered the day the experiments came to an end vividly. He hadn’t been able to stomach it after they’d all started screaming for each other – and they weren’t using their call-signs, either. The time for that had long gone – it was their real names that had come spilling out. The ones their mothers had given them as they first swaddled them in blankets. The ones that had been carried on the wind when it was time for dinner. The ones now spoken in hushed voices after dinner.

All he had left of them was a fucking box. He could hold all four of them in one hand. Small components that were welded into the motherboard. A collective century of experience and knowledge and history condensed down into four identical electrical components.

Swindle wanted to scream. He wanted to scream and cry and throw himself off of the bridge, swept away by the current and buried under sediment and rubbish and corpses. But he couldn’t - he had to hold it together. If he broke now, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. There was a job to be done.

Vortex was the obvious first pick. The next pick was harder. Significantly so. Who next? It had been a question that had haunted him ever since.

Swindle felt himself break out into a cold sweat. The tech wasn’t anywhere near where he wanted it to be, and the thought of having to try and wrangle two of them had him sprouting greys. He ran through them in his mind, counting it off on his fingers.

Onslaught. His commander. He’d trusted him with this, and he was certain to be disappointed with how it had all worked out, but he was also the one who could keep Vortex in line. However, Vortex was currently staying firmly in line and was studiously behaving himself now that he had Felix. It seemed that he’d cottoned on to the fact he was now the bargaining chip, and he was determined to play the part of a good little boy in order to keep his favourite toy.

Brawl. His personality was explosive, and any mech they made for him would have to have the thickest armour available, and even then that probably wouldn’t be enough. They weren’t at the point of making a viable mech for him yet, which left…

Blast Off. Their unifier. The centre of their team, their point of gravity. Damn, it was fucking obvious now – if Trepan was keen to crack the mausoleum back open and bring his team online, then he’d have to start with the one who kept them from cannibalising each other.

Trepan was looking at him expectantly, a small smile on his face.

“Jean-Luc B. Ollier.” Swindle promptly replied. “Code name: Blast Off. He’s a sniper and a navigator – where are we at with that gun? He’d be a great test for it.”

“Not Oscar Den Koning? Juan Perez?”

“Oscar will be hard.” Swindle replied. “Very strong personality – if we want him, we’ll need the others all up and operational first. Juan was our demolitions expert – we don’t have the ability to make armour strong enough to withstand the beating he would put it through right now.”

Trepan nodded like a priest having sins confessed to him. “Very well. I will pass this on. Thank you as always, Swindle. This has been most enlightening.”

“When will the designs be ready for viewing?” Swindle asked.

“Very soon, I hope.”

And with that, he was gone. Swindle exhaled slowly before breathing in deeply, holding it there in his lungs, and slowly exhaling.

Fuuuuuuck.

-------------------------------------

“Did you hear? They’re making a new batch of mechs.” First Aid conversationally said as he scrubbed the floor panels of the cockpit with a toothbrush. Despite his best attempts, there was still some dirt and grime in there – he was starting to get a little sick of noticing it every single time he got into his mech, so he’d decided that today, his precious day off, he’d dedicate it to making him sparkly clean.

On the inside, at least. The outside he’d leave to the professionals.

[OOOH? TELL ME MORE <3]

“One’s a prototype mech – apparently it’s going to be designed to be more like you? Something about balancing out what a powerhouse you are. Might end up being on loan to the Shatterdome to the south, apparently they’re having real big issues at the moment.” He sighed and rolled back to sit on his heels, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hands. “What did you even do back here? It’s still coming up red – I’ll need to pop the panel off!”

[THIS.]

An arm swooped down from the ceiling, sharp implements spinning and twisting on the end of it. First Aid yelped and scrambled backwards, and Vortex rumbled in a laugh.

“Why do you even have that?!”

[HACKED A MAINTENANCE DROID. HACKED TWO MAINTENANCE DROIDS.] He corrected himself.

“And they just let you keep it?”

[AS IF I’D LET THEM STOP ME.]

First Aid hummed, running his fingers across the offending metal. “I need a toolkit to get this up. I’ll be right back – I think I saw one in the cupboard…”

[LATER BABE <3 BE QUICK.]

First aid hopped out with ease and quickly whipped off his gloves, hanging them over his belt. He rubbed his hair from his eyes and silently wished he had a hairband when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Curiously, he slipped it out – he wasn’t expecting any messages from anyone, and he couldn’t think of who would text him out of the blue-

His pace faltered when he saw the name.

Blades.

He shoved the phone back into his pocket and the message to the back of his mind. Later. He’d… He’d deal with it later. Right now, Vortex was waiting for him, and he was so close to getting that panel clean.

-------------------------------------

Having a chatty little man like Felix around had its perks for sure. Such as giving Vortex such useful bits of information, like new mechs.

Each time he learned that new mechs were being added to rosters around the world, he went digging. He’d brute force his way in, hammering and chiselling away until he got what he wanted. Information. Something that gave him an idea of who they’d stuffed into them.

He wondered what Trepan would think if he knew that he wasn’t as brain-dead as he was meant to be, that he wasn’t a silly little AI that said ‘yes, sir!’ and did as he was asked, that he still remembered who he was and clung onto it, that he knew exactly what had happened to him and let it burn inside of him to the point of consumption. Sometimes he wondered if any of the other mechs on base remembered who they once were too, but then that implied that they still hadn’t figured out the damn tech yet, and at least one of the pilots would have gone squealing. Prowl definitely. The man was such a tattle tale.

Huh. Maybe that was why he’d been shipped off to the States? That would be so fucking funny. Jesus.

Anyway. The digging.

He’d poked and probed where he could, the enjoyment he got out thinking of Swindles face when he realised it was him spurring him on, and eventually – he cracked it.

Felix was popping the panel off on his floors when he got hold of the file. A small batch – just five of them. Apparently investors hadn’t bitten as hard as they’d hoped. And they’d had to cut it down by two thirds – ouch. That had to sting. Swindle must have been chewing the walls. Giggling to himself, he began flicking through the folders within, plucking out bytes of information, straightening out the ones and zeros until they were in a format that he could understand-

His lights flickered, and First Aid froze, abused and beaten toothbrush in hand.

“Vortex?” He quietly asked. “I’m sorry – did I knock something?”

[YOU’RE ALRIGHT, HONEY.] He managed, not quite thinking of his reply more than it instinctively coming up on his display. Because he was alright. He hadn’t done anything.

Trepan, however, clearly had his paws on this batch.

SNIPER, the document read. LONG DISTANCE SHOOTER. LIGHT ARMOUR FOR MANOEUVRABILITY. DESIGNATION: BLAST OFF

Motherfucker.

Even the mech somehow managed to look like him – the armour followed the same patterns as the armour that he’d worn on the field, albeit significantly brighter. They could afford to be bright and gaudy when they were made of metal – they wanted to attract the hits. And a bright purple chest was just begging to get punched.

Eagerly, he flicked through the other documents. Brawl? Onslaught?

No. He didn’t care about these names – he didn’t give a shit about them. Not a goddamn single shit. He childishly mentally threw the file over his shoulder, his frame creaking ominously and the wiring under the panel Felix had removed sparking. Trepan was doing this on purpose, he could feel it. He was denying him his team, he was savouring their torment for as long as he could. Fucker. He’d crush him himself.

[literatureloverx]

(bsd spoilers)

i really like your interpretations !! fyodor has lived for a really long while — his plans for world peace and him wishing to eradicate ability users while being one himself must have belied a lot of trauma and suffering. i've seen people in the fandom take notice of this but i don't think a canon character has done the same ... (here's to hoping that this will change after sigma learns more of his memories !)

also! take a look at this bonus illustration from hoshikawa-sensei from about two years ago ~

what interests me most are the concentric rings in his irises ... look at how instead of the usual purple, his irises are red here, a color often used to indicate alertness and danger ! look at how he's looking at us, the viewer ! look at how he's grinning ! you've mentioned that there was a subtle madness in his eyes but here in hoshikawa's illust his madness couldn't be more apparent !

i wish you the best of luck in your productivity too !! i appreciate your words of encouragement lots and i'm delighted to hear that you find my username pretty !! it took me a ridiculous amount of time to come up with a good username hahaha 😤

So… this isn’t exactly a direct interpretation of his eyes, but more of the character himself. First, I completely agree with you about the madness in his eyes—it’s undeniably there.♥️

The rings in his irises immediately reminded me of tree rings, where you can trace the age of a tree and the history it carries. It almost feels like an allusion to how old Fyodor truly is—perhaps even older than humanity itself? Of course, I might be getting ahead of myself since there is no concrete evidence to support that idea, but it is a thought that lingers.♥️

As for his character, I feel like there are two possibilities: either he’s endured some deeply scarring or traumatic experience that shaped him into the person we see now—though I’m hesitant to believe Asagiri would go down that route, as it doesn’t quite feel like his style—or he is far more inhuman than we give him credit for.

Perhaps he has always been set on this mission from the start, which would explain why he is able to act with such ruthless precision. Either way, it is that combination of his philosophy and his relentless drive for a perfect world that makes him such a compelling, enigmatic figure.

Also, I think that his gaze directly at the viewer symbolises that, much like Dazai, he is fully aware that he (and the entire BSD universe) exists as a book called Stray Dogs, and not in the real world. This awareness likely ties into his ability to control Amenogozen (I hope I have written that correctly, lmao). Do you remember the part where he mentions Amenogozen being able to fight as a 3D being stabbing into 2D ones (or something along those lines, haha)? That is exactly what I am talking about. Fyodor sees us.♥️

[m1ng1ology]

teach me

changbin x fem!reader

warnings : suggestive

wc : 1.3k

synopsis : where changbin teaches you how to play pool in his own way...

a/n : lol guys sorry for disappearing.. school started back and i had to lock in for a second...but i rewatched some skz videos and saw them playing pool and knew changbin had to be written about

changbin leaned against the pool table, spinning a cue stick casually in his hand. the dim lighting of the room cast shadows across his sharp features, and his dark eyes sparkled with mischief as you walked in.

“you made it,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips.

you rolled your eyes, dropping your bag onto a nearby chair. “don’t sound so surprised.”

his gaze flickered to your braids, tied neatly and cascading over your shoulder. “nice look,” he commented, his voice smooth. “ready to learn?”

you shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the way his deep tone sent a shiver down your spine. “you’re the teacher, aren’t you?”

he grinned and motioned for you to come closer. “let’s start easy. grab a cue.”

you picked one up, its smooth wood feeling foreign in your hands. changbin moved to stand behind you, his presence warm and far too close for comfort.

“first things first,” he murmured, placing his hands lightly on your waist. “your stance. widen your feet a bit—yeah, like that.”

his voice was low, and the proximity of his body to yours made it impossible to focus. you cleared your throat, trying to keep your composure.

“okay, now grip the cue like this,” he said, his hand covering yours. his fingers were firm but gentle, guiding your movements.

you glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow. “are you always this hands-on when you teach?”

he chuckled, the sound rich and deep. “only when the student needs extra attention.”

your breath caught as he leaned closer, his chest brushing against your back. his lips were near your ear now, his voice dropping even lower.

“line up your shot. see the ball? aim for the center.”

you tried to focus, but the heat radiating off him and the way his hands lingered made it nearly impossible. you pulled back slightly, trying to regain control.

“you’re distracting,” you muttered.

“am i?” he asked innocently, though his smirk said otherwise. “i thought i was being helpful.”

you turned your head to glare at him, but the movement brought your faces dangerously close. his dark eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

“go on,” he said, his voice soft but laced with challenge. “take the shot.”

with a shaky breath, you lined up the cue, pulled back, and hit the ball. it rolled across the table, narrowly missing the pocket.

“not bad,” changbin said, his lips curving into a grin. “but i think you need more practice.”

he stepped back slightly, but not before his hand brushed against your hip. the touch was brief, yet it left a trail of heat in its wake.

“maybe you should demonstrate again,” you said, turning to face him. “i think i missed something.”

his grin widened, and he leaned on the pool table, his eyes never leaving yours. “oh, i’d be happy to. but only if you promise to pay close attention this time.”

“oh, i’m paying attention,” you replied, matching his smirk.

the game wasn’t just about pool anymore, and you both knew it.

the air between you was charged, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. changbin’s smirk deepened as he picked up his cue stick, his movements deliberate, fluid, like he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

“watch closely,” he said, his voice smooth as velvet. “this is how it’s done.”

he leaned over the table, lining up his shot with precision, his muscles flexing under the dim lighting. his focus was sharp, but he threw you a quick glance, as if to make sure you were watching every second. with a swift yet controlled motion, he struck the cue ball, sending it gliding across the table. it collided with a striped ball, which rolled neatly into a corner pocket.

straightening up, he spun the cue in his hand and shot you a triumphant look. “see? easy.”

you crossed your arms, tilting your head at him. “you make it look easy. big difference.”

he stepped closer, the space between you shrinking again. “that’s why i’m here—to make sure you get it.” his tone was teasing, but the intensity in his gaze made your pulse race.

“you’re enjoying this way too much,” you said, attempting to sound unaffected. but the way his lips twitched in amusement told you he wasn’t buying it.

“maybe.” he shrugged, his eyes sweeping over you again. “but you’re the one who keeps coming back for lessons.”

“i didn’t say i needed lessons,” you retorted, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.

“oh, you definitely need lessons,” he said, leaning down slightly so his face was level with yours. his voice dropped, rich and teasing. “and i think you like it when i teach.”

the challenge in his words made your stomach flip, but you refused to back down. “think whatever you want, changbin. just don’t let it mess with your aim.”

he laughed, low and warm, the sound curling around you like smoke. “don’t worry. my aim’s perfect.” he stepped back, his eyes still locked on yours. “but we’ll see if yours gets any better.”

you couldn’t tell if he was talking about pool anymore. and honestly, you weren’t sure if you cared.

changbin’s laughter faded, but the smirk on his face stayed firmly in place, his dark eyes holding yours with an intensity that sent a thrill down your spine. he leaned casually against the pool table again, his presence commanding even in his relaxed stance. the way his gaze swept over you felt deliberate, like he was undressing every layer of your defenses.

“you know,” he drawled, his voice low and rich, “i could teach you a lot more than just pool. if you’re interested.”

you raised an eyebrow, fighting to keep your expression neutral even as the heat crept up your neck. “is that so? and what exactly would that involve?”

he straightened up, closing the distance between you with a few slow, measured steps. the pool cue in his hand was forgotten, discarded on the table as his focus zeroed in entirely on you. “depends. how far are you willing to let me take it?”

the double meaning in his words wasn’t lost on you, and your pulse quickened. you tilted your head, meeting his challenge with one of your own. “maybe i’m the one who should be teaching you something. ever think of that?”

changbin’s smirk deepened, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. “oh, i’m sure you’ve got a lot i could learn,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. “but let’s get one thing straight—I’m very hands-on when it comes to learning.”

his hand brushed yours, featherlight, but the heat of his touch spread like wildfire. he stepped even closer, his chest almost pressing against yours. the faint scent of his cologne—dark and spicy—wrapped around you, making it harder to focus on anything but him.

“you’re awfully close for a teacher,” you said, your voice steadier than you expected. still, the way his dark eyes flicked to your lips made your breath hitch.

“is that a complaint?” he asked, his lips quirking up. “because if it is, i can step back… if that’s what you want.”

you knew it wasn’t what you wanted. not even close. but you weren’t about to make it that easy for him. “i’m just wondering if you’re always this… invested in your students.”

he chuckled, the sound sending a shiver straight to your core. “only the ones worth my time,” he said, his tone heavy with implication. “and you? you’ve definitely got my attention.”

you swallowed hard, refusing to let him see how much his words—and the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the room that mattered—affected you. “then prove it,” you said, stepping into his space. “show me something i won’t forget.”

changbin’s grin widened, his gaze darkening. “oh, don’t worry,” he said, his voice a low purr. “by the time we’re done, you won’t be forgetting a thing.”

[glasvera]

Blackened Gold

Adam Warlock x GN!Reader x Venom

Description: When a new vanguard is assigned to assist yourself and Adam Warlock, you didn't expect it to be a symbiote. And you certainly didn't expect tensions between all of you to come to a head one night on a scouting mission. Sexual tensions, that is.

Warnings/Disclaimers: 18+, Minors DNI! 19 inches of Venom, spitroasting, oral sex (male receiving), tentacle/tendril play, nipple play, asphyxiation, biting, rough (and I mean brutal) sex, inappropriate usage of healing magic. Established situationship between Adam and Reader.

A/N: This is the first gender neutral reader smut I've written, so I hope I did well. I tried to focus on the parts that "count" and make it as inclusive as possible. Everyone has a hole and a mouth, after all ;) Also this is barely proofread. I think I was possessed when I wrote this.

Word Count: 3.8k

On these strange, haphazard missions you find yourself on with unlikely allies, you weren’t expecting to fall into any sort of rhythm.

Well, perhaps one of them was to be expected. Adam Warlock worked well with you, keeping you alive during the dangerous segments with his perfectly timed healing. And you kept him alive any time someone dared to attack him directly. You had been on several missions together by now that it was easy to fall into step alongside each other. Not to mention your… out of work activities.

Needless to say, your closeness had not gone unnoticed.

But recently, the two of you had found yourselves a new protector.

A lethal one.

It started on a particularly risky mission. You were up against incredibly competent and incredibly dangerous enemies. Even Adam, try as he might, was struggling to keep up healing you. Things looked grim, and for a moment, you thought all was lost. Your mouth was filled with the metallic tang of blood, and it was getting harder to stand… regardless, you moved in front of Adam. If anyone needed to stay in the fight, it’s him. The team could do without you.

Then a flash of black streaked across your vision. That flash turned into a… splash? Tentacles sprayed forth from the pavement that cracked from the force of the impact, but soon they came together to form a vaguely humanoid being. It was huge, with broad shoulders and defined muscles that seemed to absorb any attacks coming its way. When its head turned to face the two of you, you felt a shiver run down your spine at the impossibly wide grin of razor sharp teeth.

“Good,” a gravelly, alien voice rumbled forth. “It seems we arrived just in time.”

Tentacles spewed forth and speared your enemies as the alien savior chortled at their feeble attempts to hurt it. It was terrifying to watch, and you almost felt bad for those on the receiving end of those piercing appendages… and yet at the same time, there was something irrefutably attractive about how effortless it was. Adam was quick to take advantage of the opportunity to finally heal you properly, but you simply watched in awe.

You had learned after the battle that the identity of your savior was Venom, or rather, a symbiote named Venom that had bonded with the human named Eddie Brock. It towered over both of you even as it crouched down, giving you both that unsettling grin while its white eye markings took in every detail. Adam was stitching the last of your injuries together with his powers, but he kept a wary eye on the new third member to your little party.

“This one…” its grumbling growl echoes as its finger pokes into your chest, “pleases us.”

You could see Adam stiffen a bit. To say that he’d become protective of you over the last few months was an understatement. White gold eyes narrow at the shiny black digit that lingers against your body, and his lip curls in visible disgust as he watches the way those tendrils seem to writhe and pulse constantly beneath Venom’s skin. But before he could jump to your defense and play the chivalrous knight he so loved to be, you made sure to speak first.

“Is that why you saved us? Because I please you?” you accuse with a pointed stare.

It’s impossible to read the expression on Venom’s face, but it does cock its head to the side.

“It is our duty. We protect our team.”

Your brow furrows, but it states it so matter-of-factly that you can’t argue it. Though you can’t help but notice the way tiny tendrils seem to peek out curiously from its finger, spreading a few inches across your chest as they feel their way about. You’re about to swat its hand away, but it seems to notice your discomfort and pulls away, resting the offending appendage on its thigh.

Adam sighs as he withdraws his healing energies, a reaffirming hand on the small of your back as he helps you stand up properly. “So you are the new vanguard assigned to us. Tell me then why I sense the stain of Knull’s essence in your being?” His voice isn’t as hostile as you might have expected. There’s a cautiousness in his tone and in his movements, to be sure, but it’s clear that his curiosity has been piqued.

“Knull is just as much our enemy as he is yours, golden one,” it growls, squinting those wide, white alien eyes at your comrade. “We do not recognize his authority even if he is our creator.”

Adam’s lips press into a thin line. “While I find it difficult to trust you easily, there is wisdom in your words. Wisdom I can personally relate to.” He nods, and the possessive grip he has on your back relaxes slightly. “Welcome to the team, Venom.”

The three (four?) of you fell into quite the, ahem, symbiotic relationship over the next few weeks. You worked quite well together: without the focus of the enemy’s fire, you were able to dish out a lot more damage, and Adam found it much easier to heal a target that mitigates much of the damage it takes in the first place. It also helps that the two had found common ground in something, even if it occasionally put them at odds.

They were both obsessed with you.

Protecting you, healing you, taking care of you, killing for you. You’d begun to notice the energy shift and just how acutely aware they both were of your well-being at all times. There were also the extra glancing touches, lingering glances. You were used to those from Adam before, but those had been ignited into a fury once Venom had begun them as well. At first it was unsettling, but you’d grown accustomed to the way its tendrils caressed and wrapped around you in passing. If it carried you to Adam for healing, you could feel the way stray tentacles explored, dipping and slithering about. Never where they shouldn’t, but the intention was still quite clear. And that healing energy, the kind that makes your knees buckle? Yeah, Adam had returned to applying that in full force.

It all came to a head when you were all turning in for the night during a scouting mission. You had some down time while waiting for the target to make a move, so you made camp in an abandoned convenience store in one of the more wrecked parts of the city. Lighting a fire could potentially draw too much attention, and seeing as you were really the only one to suffer from any sort of cold, it fell to Adam and Venom to keep you warm. As you all lie down on a makeshift bed of blankets with bags of stale cereal for pillows, Venom is the first to make its move.

They bickered a little less nowadays, at least, so all Adam gives Venom is a slightly disappointed glance when those symbiotic tendrils curl around your body. Despite its intentions, they’re cold and slimy, and you shiver at the initial feeling. It responds by liquefying itself even further, enveloping your limbs and waist in a cold black that slowly responds to and encases your body heat. Adam rolls onto his side, propping his head up on his hand as he watches the two of you.

“Is that… comfortable?” he asks with genuine curiosity as he watches the slick ooze form to your body’s shape. It stirs something in him, but he’s not ready to admit that yet.

The shuddering subsides as your body acclimates to its symbiotic cocoon. “It’s warm, at least. It’s not uncomfortable,” you respond. But, as a living entity, it seems the symbiote can’t quite stay still, pulsing and writhing against you. It seeps under your clothes, seeking out your body heat to better maintain it, and you squirm slightly. Body heat doesn’t seem to be something you’ll be struggling with for long, as your face begins to flush with the way those tendrils caress you almost lovingly.

Adam could have sworn he saw Venom smiling knowingly, but it could be so difficult to read its expression. Once he hears your staggered breaths, however, his eyes narrow even if he doesn’t make an immediate move. “What are you doing to Y/N?”

“Keeping this one warm,” it responds with a guttural groan. You feel something stir against your backside, and it causes you to gasp. “We know of a good way to do this.”

The golden man’s throat goes dry as he watches. Your body squirms, yes, but it doesn’t look as though you’re trying to break free. And he of all people recognizes the flush on your face and that needy warmth that radiates from your soul. 

You were enjoying this, even if you yourself hadn’t recognized it yet.

And then that long, pink tongue is snaking around your neck and teasing at your parted lips.

“This one feels good on us. We would please you further, if you allow us…” it whispers, that normally grating voice taking on a low and almost seductive quality. “We have thought of this a long time.”

Those tendrils are dipping into your hero suit, teasing along your hip bone or touching just out of reach of your hardening nipples. It’s hard to breathe, not from the tongue that curls about your neck, but from the arousal that builds in your core. You ache with a primal need, you ache for more, so much so that you almost forget that Venom is waiting patiently for your permission. How quaint for a being that’s clearly fine with fondling you already.

“A…And Adam?” you finally eke out, and you see his cheeks turn a deep copper at your offer of inclusion.

“The… blindingly golden one may join. We do not care. We only wish to feel you and keep you warm. Hot.” A tendril finally snakes around your nipple, flicking it beneath your clothes. “Quivering.”

For now, it’s all Adam can do to watch as Venom toys with your body, snaking between your legs and lifting one up as it begins exploring your thighs. Venom parts its symbiotic casing of you, leaving your desire on evident display even beneath your clothing. Even that is done away with quickly as its appendages work in tandem to strip that away, leaving you bare and naked before them both. The chill of night is all but forgotten as you moan at Venom’s ministrations, and Adam is finally spurred to action as he swallows those sounds with his lips on yours. This feels wrong, like he’s aiding in your defilement by allowing this symbiote to have its way with you, but then he feels your hand shoving its way down his pants as you palm at his hardening length.

“Y/N,” he gasps out, breaking the kiss as you stroke him back and forth, flicking your thumb over that sensitive golden tip. Your movements are much less sure than they usually are, distracted by the way Venom’s tendrils travel lower, lower…

They tease at your entrance, slathering your skin in black slick as they poke and prod. It draws a staggered cry from your lips. Adam watches you in awe, twitches in your hand even as it falters, cupping your face in his hands before kissing you hungrily. Desire wins out over duty in his mind as he bucks into your touch.

“This one is responsive. We knew this would be enjoyable,” Venom growls before that tongue begins gently squeezing, restricting the air from your lungs ever so slightly. You see stars in your vision as the asphyxiation only turns you on further.

Venom’s tentacles spread your legs further as smaller ones thread their way into you, fucking in and out while your mind goes blank. Adam’s lips continue to devour yours, and it isn’t long before his tongue spears into your mouth, demanding even more. You’re desperately tugging at Adam’s pants with the hand that isn’t wrapped around his cock, and more symbiotic tendrils aid in your efforts to divest your mutual partner of the offending fabric. Adam kicks it off readily as Venom tosses it to the side. When that golden length springs free, you stroke at it with a renewed vigor and, much to your surprise, your hand is joined by a slimy black tentacle wrapping around the base.

“A-ah, that is-” Adam stammers, but his words are cut off by a broken moan as you and Venom work in tandem. That slick quickens and smooths your movements, acting like lubrication that leaves your golden god gasping for breath even as he kisses you again.

All the while, Venom continues adding more and more to your spreading hole, thicker tendrils fucking into you relentlessly. You can feel its cock resting against your ass and silently thank whatever powers are listening that this symbiote was kind enough to prepare you before spearing you with that.

As if it’s reading your mind somehow, you feel more than hear Venom’s growling chortle behind you. “This one still isn’t ready for all of us.”

You’re perfectly aware of that, and even still you feel a growing fire building in the pit of your belly. Tentacles squeeze and tug at your nipples while others dance and grope at the apex of your thighs. A few even whip experimentally at your ass, and you choke out a moan despite the tongue that keeps a tight hold around your throat.

“Golden one. What is it that you normally do to this one to make them cry so deliciously?” Venom asks Adam, snapping the man out of his own building orgasm as he focuses his attention back on you.

“I-I,” he stutters, deciding actions would speak louder than words when said words fail him. The hands that cradle your head begin to travel, but one of them stays and presses two fingers against your parted lips. You stare at Adam with pleading eyes and pupils blackened with lust, eagerly opening your mouth further to allow him access. He slowly fucks your mouth with those digits as your tongue laves them with attention.

And then the energy flows forth.

You practically go cross-eyed as those streams of golden energy spread through your body, caressing your tongue and filling your mind with pleasure. At that very moment, Venom’s tongue withdraws from your neck, allowing you to scream out as all of the sensations overwhelm you at once. Those tendrils filling you so deliciously almost seem thicker now, and you can feel the way they stretch your walls. Adam’s healing quite literally mind-fucks you, and the vein on his cock pulses as you continue stroking it. Your exposed neck doesn’t need to wait for long as sharp teeth sink into it. It’s a white-hot, searing pain, but paired with the constant flow of Adam’s power, it’s replaced with pleasure as quickly as it hurts.

You’re so close. You can feel it pooling low in your stomach and they can sense it. Adam’s mouth waters as he continues thrusting his fingers into yours, mimicking the pace at which Venom spears you. Your fingers and Venom’s tendril wrap around him so perfectly. But it’s not enough.

“Need… Need your mouth,” Adam finally speaks, and how can you deny such a request when those hooded milky eyes stare at you with such unrestrained desire?

Venom withdraws its tentacles from you just as Adam removes his fingers, and you whine at the sudden loss of stimulation. You were so close, and they were so mean for that.

Those are your thoughts, at least, until you feel Venom manhandling you onto your knees. Its tendrils still slither and slide around your body, but you notice now that none of them seek to enter you. No. There was something altogether larger prodding at you now.

Sweat drips down your back as you begin to tense up. Venom’s tongue laps at the salty sweet of you as it positions itself, and your breath hitches in your throat when you feel the head of its cock slip inside with an audible pop.

And gods, that was just the head.

Breathing just got a lot harder. You're practically gasping, and Adam kneels in front of you before sliding his own length into your open mouth. Inch by inch, Venom fills you from behind, stretching you for what feels like an eternity. Adam at least has the restraint to keep himself to shallow thrusts, cupping your chin as he stares down at your absolutely fucked-out face. Your lips close around the tip and you try desperately to focus on the salty taste of his precum as you swipe your tongue up his slit. It’s hard to focus on anything else though when Venom is set upon rearranging your insides.

Finally, after a few minutes of that, Venom bottoms out in you. If you thought you couldn’t breathe before, you certainly weren’t prepared for this. You’ve never felt so full in your life, and with your mouth occupied, you feel like you might pass out.

That is, until you remember you have a nose to breathe through. Though, who could blame you for forgetting when your mind is going blank with pleasure? You inhale deeply, furrowing your brows as you take a moment to concentrate on getting air back into your lungs. Sensing your discomfort, Adam runs a soothing hand through your hair.

“You are doing so well, Y/N. I know you can continue,” Adam praises, and Venom groans at the way you clench around it in response. He trickles healing energy into your head, leaving your mind buzzing and numb in the best way.

Venom is the first to move in earnest, pulling its cock out before slamming it back into you. Your eyes widen and you feel your stomach distend from the force of it, but once again Adam’s healing prevents any long lasting damage. No, instead, every ounce of pain is immediately converted into pleasure as your body stitches itself back together.

“It is good you are here, golden one. We would likely destroy this one’s organs if you were not here to heal Y/N,” Venom’s gurgled speech states through grunting thrusts.

You’re going to be completely ruined after this.

Adam can only laugh breathlessly. “I had never considered such a thing. I have only endeavored to be gentle with Y/N. Perhaps this warrants further experimentation,” he replies. Oh… you’re not sure if you hate or love the sound of that.

Once Venom has settled into a steady rhythm, Adam begins to increase his pace until he’s fucking your mouth. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but the hand at your chin continues pouring forth that golden energy. Your throat doesn’t even get a chance to ache from the intrusion before it subsides completely. That process continues, repeating endlessly, as you find yourself utterly spitroasted between them.

Loathe as he might normally be to admit it, the choked gurgling and slobbered moans that sound from your throat only bring Adam closer all the quicker. His eyebrows knit together as he gasps and groans, holding your head in place as he loses himself in the wet cavern of your mouth. You obediently suck and lave on his cock even as spittle dribbles down your chin. Venom takes its pleasure readily, growling possessively as it hunches over you. You’ve braced yourself on your hands for long enough, but your muscles begin to fail you as your arms shake and slip. Venom wraps its tentacles around you and holds you up, using its large hand to capture your wrists behind your back. Now you really have no choice but to take everything they give you, spearing you from both sides as you’re overwhelmed by their cocks and the golden morphine that pulses through you.

“This one will cum soon.” It’s a proclamation, not a prediction. Tendrils swirl and tug on your nipples, tentacles work you from the front, and soon its tongue is wrapped around your neck again. Venom growls in satisfaction as it feels the bulge of Adam in your throat, and Adam’s breathing stutters at the sudden tightness.

Your eyes are rolling back into your head. You might die, you think. Forget the “little death,” this felt like an imminent explosion. Your face is a mess of tears and drool.

Adam is the first. His thrusts grow erratic at this newfound constriction. Your name spills forth from his lips, over and over, a desperate prayer before he spills stream after stream of his cum down your throat. You swallow it eagerly, even if it leaves you coughing a bit when he finally withdraws from your mouth.

Once Adam pulls away, you feel everything. No more healing to mask what Venom was doing to you. But you were too far gone at this point. Even without that golden energy, pain was becoming nothing but pleasure to you. And with your mouth unoccupied, your screams go unimpeded save for the tongue around your neck. It builds, pulse after pulse, thrust after thrust, until that spark ignites fully into an inferno.

You cum with a strangled cry, convulsing around Venom’s cock as you make an absolute mess of yourself. Your voice gurgles and you see stars before your body goes limp. Venom has no issue keeping you aloft as it finishes, thrusting into you erratically with a final roar before pulling out of you to spurt ribbon after ribbon of spend onto your heaving back. The tentacles withdraw suddenly and you collapse onto the ground, unable to move a muscle.

As you all take a moment to collect yourselves and catch your breath, you hear vehicles in the distance and the shouts of several henchmen. Thankfully, they seem to be heading away from you this time. You’re not sure you could take on any bad guys right now.

Oh. Of course they were running away.

Your head falls to the ground with a light thud, and you groan now that you’ve come down from your orgasmic bliss.

“So much for not giving away our location…” you mumble ashamedly.

A hum akin to a laugh rumbles in Venom’s chest. “It is no surprise with the sounds being made. This one is quite vocal.”

You groan again, hiding your face behind your hands. Adam finds himself chuckling too, even if this little debacle has put a handicap on your mission. “I am sure we will pick up on their trail come morning. But perhaps, for now, we all should get some rest?” he offers as he gathers his and your clothes and folds them into a neat pile.

Venom murmurs its agreement before it begins to envelop both of you in that symbiotic cocoon, surprising Adam as he finds himself pressed so intimately against you and Venom. But after that session, it’s hard to protest anything, and it isn’t long before you both fall soundly asleep in the embrace of your diligent vanguard.

[moosesarecute]

Chapter 7: The Shadow to my Flame

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Ashe woke up hours later. It was already dark outside. She was laying on her stomach.

“Thisty?” Eris asked her and handed her a cup of water. He sat at her desk, probably reading some reports. “There’s a pain tonic in it.”

Ashe didn’t drink it.

“He told me not to see a healer.” Her voice was raspy and it was painful to speak.

Eris was visibly mad at his father.

“You didn’t see a healer. I did. Now, drink.”

She did as he told her. She knew it would take a while for the tonic to work, but even the thought of less pain helped her.

“Don’t you have more important things to see to?”

“Do you want me to leave?”

Ashe shook her head. Being alone was the worst thing right now. She needed to have someone close.

Eris stood up and sat down beside her on her bed. He brushed some of her hair away from her face and Ashe found herself leaning against the warmth from his hand. Eris immediately noticed and tucked her deeper into the blanket without being near her back.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Ashe.”

“I know. But Samli has helped me through so much. I didn’t want to see her go through that.”

Eris only nodded at her words. Ashe was proud of what she had done, even though she currently felt both weak and humiliated.

“Maria is taking your tasks for today and tomorrow morning. You’ll have to help during the ball, but you have Sunday to heal. I have written an approval of leave if you wish to go to your cabin.”

Ashe’s initial thoughts were that it wasn’t enough time to heal. But at the same time, she needed to be present at the ball.

Eris gave out a small sigh.

“Thinking clearly? Seeing clearly? Hearing everything?”

Ashe nodded at his questions.

“Good. You should sleep for a little longer before you eat.”

Eris was still in her room when she woke up the next time. It seemed to be in the middle of the night, but he still sat reading reports. He was deep in thoughts, so it took him some time to notice Ashe was awake.

Ashe herself felt too weak to move or speak.

Eris stood up and sat down on her bed again.

“You need to eat. I’m going to pick you up and help you sit, okay?”

Ashe only shook her head. She didn’t have power to face the pain that would come with moving.

“No, please don’t,” she said aloud as Eris tried to move her.

“I’m sorry,” he answered and lifted her up anyway.

She didn’t have the power to scream, so she only cried. She was bawling her eyes out by the time Eris lifted the first spoonful of soup to her lips. She ate the soup, but her crying only got worse.

Ashe felt so weak. What had she done? She had mixed herself into something far too dangerous. She just pretended to know what she was doing; she never actually did something useful.

Eris looked at her with an extreme amount of guilt and worry. As she had taken another few spoonful of soup, Eris put the bowl on her desk and carefully embraced her. He was careful not to touch her back. He only held her waist and shoulders even though his arms were around her entire upper body. He let her rest her head on his shoulder as she cried and cried and cried.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Ashe had no idea why he was apologizing. She heard in his voice that he was crying too, but it didn’t matter. She had enough by just caring for herself at that moment.

Eris had stayed with her through the entire night. Ashe didn’t know how she could make him understand how grateful she was. He gave her a small kiss on the top of her head and went to prepare for the ball. It made Ashe feel safe in the middle of all her other feelings.

She felt weak, stupid and humiliated. She felt like a burden. Ashe knew she was doing too much. Doing too much dangerous, but at the same time, she needed to help.  She had the opportunity to make a change, and she was not letting it go to waste.

That’s how she dragged herself out of bed an hour before the ball started and got dressed in her finest uniform. It was a loose sitting dress with a wool apron on top. She struggled lifting her arms, but she eventually managed to set up her hair in the correct way. She walked up to her desk and places the pin from Shadow on one of the straps on her apron. It was visible, but it didn’t take anyone’s attention.

Walking was a struggle, and she used a lot time longer than usual, but she eventually got all the way to the kitchen.

Maria was the first one she met there. She immediately started to fix Ashe’s hair. That was nothing unusual.

“You have to carry glasses,” Maria told her. “I’ll set then down on the table. We’ll do the same for all five dishes. Then for the rest of the evening you’ll stand on one of the stationary posts, so that you can hold onto something and not fall over. Got it?”

Ashe nodded.

Usually, the servants would be parted in two. Some that worked during the dinner and some that worked afterwards.

However, since they were a lot fewer servants than before, everyone now had to work the entire night.

Only the thought of standing for that many hours made Ashe nauseous. She would have to find a way to pull through.

Every movement hurt, but it would be worse without the pain tonic Eris gave her.

The first dish called for a light white wine. Ashe carried ten of them. Ashe and Maria oversaw the ten that sat the furthest away from the High Lord. Ashe was always placed far away from him. She didn’t mind of course. Ashe didn’t know if she could be controlled if she had to stay that close to the High Lord for such a long time.

Ashe was daydreaming as she held the cups. She had always wished to attend a ball. She wanted to wear the prettiest of dresses and dance with the kindest male. The chances that it would happen was zero. Eris sometimes danced with her in her room. It was like he had hope she one day would get to experience her dream.

Holding the cups was easy enough. Ashe quickly realized she was in the least amount of pain when she didn’t move her upper body.

Ashe stepped backwards each time Maria had sat down a new cup. In turned into her own kind of dance. One step backwards, stop, cup up, cup down and then repeat.

The imagined dance was how she ended up walking into something. A wing. She turned fast, but not fast enough to spill any wine.

She immediately did a small curtesy and mother did it hurt.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” she said.

“Don’t apologize, it was my fault for taking too much space with my wings,” the male answered. He smiled brightly and Ashe didn’t know how to react. She expected a scolding or a small slap, not an apology. Confused, she ended up just looking at the male.

Maria luckily continued passing out the wine and rushed Ashe to the next person.

The High Lord of the Night Court.

Ashe immediately knew who he was. His violet eyes and living power gave him away.

Ashe found herself straightening her back, not in fear as she usually did for her own High Lord, but in respect. The High Lord of the Night Court had taken in hundreds of lesser faeries and he had arranged the discussions that lead to the High Lords trying to stop the High Lord of Autumn. Somehow, Ashe knew he wasn’t as evil people thought he was.

The High Lord looked swiftly over her. Ashe was sure only she noticed how his gaze lingered just a second over the pin she wore on her uniform. Then, he looked at Maria and thanked her for the wine. Thanked her. Who was this male? No one thanks a servant?

Each time Ashe and Maria gave drinks to the High Lord of Night and his companion, they thanked them. And each time, Maria and Ashe shared a small, confused look.

As the dinner came to an end, Ashe went to collect cups, and she couldn’t not overhear a particular important conversation. She walked past two of her High Lord’s generals. They were speaking quietly, but not silent enough to not hear.

“The Shadowsinger was caught lurking around our border. They think he might have been helping lesser faeries out. The bloody Night Court is always ruining things for us.”

Shadowsinger. Shadowsinger from the Night Court.

Shadow.

Ashe struggled to concentrate on her task, but she had to pretend she didn’t hear. She kept collecting cups, but at a slightly slower pace than before.

“So, he’s in the dungeons now?”

“Yes, we’re using him against the Night Court tomorrow during the meeting.”

Ashe had heard enough. If it was even the smallest chance that the Shadowsinger that currently was in the dungeons was her Shadow, she would have to save him.

“Maria?” Ashe asked carefully and Maria looked over at her.

“You look awful, Ashe,” Maria answered sounded almost worried. “Go take a small break. Twenty minutes at most.”

Ashe nodded and tried to show gratitude through her pain. She needed to have a reason to leave her tasks for a little while, so she had been stretching. She had probably opened some of the wounds Eris had tended to, but at that moment it had seemed like a good idea. Now, Ashe had realized that it definitely wasn’t. She was dizzy and nauseous from the pain and for each step she took, she thought she would throw up.

However, she stuck to her plan as good as she could. She went to the kitchen, filled up a cup of tea and snuck it out with a serving board.

Then, she made her way down the many stairs to the dungeon. The longer down she got, the more her arms started to shake from the pain. She managed to not spill any tea, and that was the most important part. Her shaking she could use. She could pretend it was from fear, not pain. Because of the ball and because of the reduction in staff, it was only one guard on duty that evening. Ashe saw him sitting at the end of the corridor, which usually meant the most important prisoner sat there.

Ashe made her way over to him, overexaggerating her shaking so that the guard thought she was terrified. In her side vision she could see wings and shadows from the cell closet to the guard.

“What do you want, slut?” the guard demanded from her.

Ashe was used to being called that however, she made herself flinch anyway.

“The kitchen sent me to give you some tea, sir,” she answered with an unsure voice.

The guard rolled his eyes but put forward his hand so that Ashe could move the tea closer to him. As Ashe stepped forward, she intentionally tripped on her own dress, spilling the hot tea all over the guard. Ashe watched as the teacup rolled down the guard’s lap and crashed into the ground, breaking into many pieces. The guard hissed in both pain and anger.

Ashe leaped into action.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said as she lifted her apron using it to dry the guard. The action disgusted her, but it was the only thing she could think of. She dried his chest and when she saw he felt distracted, she grabbed the keys from his belt.

“I’m sorry,” she said again and moved to the ground in one swift movement, trying to pick up the broken cup. “I didn’t mean to. I promise. Please don’t-”

The guard pulled her up by her hair, making her drop the broken cup and the keys to the ground.

“You fucking useless whore,” he said and started to drag her to the opposite end of the dungeons. However, before Ashe started moving, she kicked the keys into the cell with the shadows.

She saw the keys go into the cell and then she prepared herself to take the punishment. He couldn’t kill her. Spilling the tea was an “accident”, so that was not enough reason to kill her. Ashe could take anything else. The guard threw her onto the ground and pressed her head into the rigid stone wall.

“You’re the one that got whipped on Friday,” the guard said with a taunting voice. “You’re a painslut, aren’t you? Into fireplay?”

His hands lit up with fire. It wasn’t a strong flame like the ones the High Lord made, but it would still hurt like it was the end.

He moved his hand closer to her chest, and Ashe realized burning probably wasn’t the only punishment he was planning for her.

His hand was only centimetres away from her breast when the male stopped. His fire disappeared and he let out a choking noise.

“Get your hands off her,” a scary voice sounded from behind the male.

The guard immediately moved away from her, he reached his hands to his throat and then, he fell lifeless to the ground.

Ashe felt her eyes widen.

“Are you okay?”

First now she looked up at the male she helped. He was intimidating but had kind and soft eyes. He was tall and had huge wings. Shadow’s floated around him, some calm and others travelled back and forth in a hurry. Ashe could see he was studying her as well.

“Is he dead?” was her only answer.

“Yeah,” he said as Ashe tried to stand up. It was painful and took some time, but she managed it in the end.

“From the reckless behaviour I’m guessing you’re Flame?” the male asked her.

“You got caught, I’d say that is more reckless than what I’m doing.”

“Fair point.”

His shadows were moving even more rapidly now. Ashe realized he was waiting for her to confirm her identity.

“You’re Shadow,” Ashe answered.

“Also known as Azriel.”

Azriel.

It was a pretty name.

“I’m Ashe,” she told him. “You should get out of here. The wards for winnowing around the castle are open because of the ball, but I’d wait with winnowing out of the court. They are on high alert today.”

He nodded at her words.

“Thanks for helping me out,” he said, and he really looked like he meant it. “And thank you for telling me to be more careful, I’ll remember to listen to you next time.”

And with that, he disappeared into shadows.

Taglist: @tele86 @demon-master-zero @kbear8863 @atluky

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[luvashli]

Synopsis -> you are pulled into a mysterious mansion where seven men are bound by a dark pact. As you navigates their secrets, desires, and emotional turmoil, you must decide whether to break free or embrace your dangerous connection with them all, uncovering love and sacrifice along the way.

14 -> A Dangerous Connection

That night, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something crucial. The mansion, with all its secrets and cryptic warnings, felt like a labyrinth designed to keep you trapped. The pieces were there—scattered and incomplete—but they refused to fit together, no matter how hard you tried.

You found yourself in the library again, drawn back to the book you’d hidden from Ni-ki. This time, you were determined to find answers, no matter how dark or twisted they might be.

The pages were brittle beneath your fingers, the text faint but legible. One passage stopped you in your tracks:

“The bond is forged through sacrifice, its strength drawn from the hearts of the willing. But beware the hunger of the eternal, for it seeks more than it is given.”

Your stomach twisted. The words felt like they had been written with the boys in mind, their meaning too close for comfort.

“What are you doing?”

The voice startled you, and you looked up sharply to see Sunoo standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“Research,” you said, snapping the book shut and holding it against your chest.

Sunoo stepped into the room, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was approaching a wild animal.

“You shouldn’t be reading that,” he said, his voice low.

“Why not?”

“Because it won’t change anything,” he said, his gaze locking onto yours. “You can’t fight the pact, Y/n. And the more you try, the more it’s going to hurt all of us.”

His words sent a chill down your spine, but you refused to back down. “Then tell me what it is,” you demanded. “If you don’t want me looking for answers, give me the truth.”

Sunoo sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. “It’s not that simple.”

“It never is with you,” you snapped. “You all act like you care about me, but you keep me in the dark. How am I supposed to trust any of you?”

His expression softened, and for the first time, you saw something raw in his eyes—regret, maybe, or guilt. “We’re trying to protect you,” he said quietly. “Even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

“Why do you care?” you asked suddenly, your voice barely above a whisper. “If this pact is so important, why do you care about what I think or feel?”

Sunoo looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he leaned forward.

“Because it’s you,” he said simply. “We can’t pretend you don’t matter. Not anymore.”

His words caught you off guard, your chest tightening with a mix of emotions you couldn’t name. Before you could respond, Sunoo leaned in, his face inches from yours.

For a moment, you thought he might kiss you—and part of you wanted him to. But just as his lips brushed yours, he pulled back, his eyes full of something you couldn’t quite place.

“I won’t do it,” he said softly. “Not if it hurts you. Not if it makes you doubt us more than you already do.”

You stared at him, your heart racing. His restraint, his quiet strength, shook you more than anything else had.

“Why are you doing this?” you whispered.

“Because we’ve made enough mistakes,” he said. “We can’t undo what’s been done, but we can try to be better. For you.”

For the first time, you felt a flicker of something other than anger or distrust. But it wasn’t enough to erase the betrayal you still felt.

“I need time,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “I can’t just forget everything that’s happened.”

Sunoo nodded, his gaze steady. “Take all the time you need,” he said. “We’re not going anywhere.”

As you left the library, your mind swirled with questions and emotions you weren’t ready to face. But one thing was clear: the boys cared about you—perhaps more than they should. And that terrified you more than anything.

The mansion seemed heavier with every passing day. The silence, once comforting, now pressed down on you like a weight you couldn’t shake. You avoided the boys as much as possible, and though they tried to approach you, you always found a way to slip away.

But that night, as the halls grew darker and the air colder, you felt the pull of the forbidden wing. The book was clutched tightly in your hands, its weight grounding you as you crept through the shadowed corridors.

The door at the end of the hallway groaned as you pushed it open, revealing a massive chamber. The walls were covered in intricate carvings, their meanings lost to you but their presence unsettling. At the center of the room stood a stone altar, its surface etched with symbols that seemed to pulse faintly in the dim light.

“What are you doing here?”

You spun around to see Jungwon standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“I’m looking for answers,” you said, your voice steady despite the fear curling in your chest. “I’m tired of being kept in the dark.”

“This isn’t a place you should be,” he said, stepping into the room. “It’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous for me, or for you?” you shot back, clutching the book tighter.

Jungwon’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he hesitated. “Both,” he admitted.

“Then tell me the truth,” you demanded, stepping closer. “What is this pact? What does it want from me?”

For a moment, Jungwon’s expression softened, as if he might finally give you the answers you sought. But then he shook his head. “You don’t want to know,” he said.

“Don’t tell me what I want,” you snapped. “I’m done being kept in the dark, Jungwon. If you won’t tell me, I’ll find out myself.”

His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. His touch was firm but not forceful, his voice trembling slightly as he said, “Y/n, please… just stop.”

You stared at him, searching his face for answers he wouldn’t give. Finally, you wrenched your arm free and walked past him, leaving the chamber and its secrets behind—for now.

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@d-dilemma

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 4: Shock, “I see the danger, it’s written there in your eyes”

We had to get to the bloody ones eventually—

This was originally going to be standalone, but one thing led to another and I think there’s going to be another part at some point. I couldn’t make it longer and I’m very stuck on the idea hehe

Warnings: blood & injury, specifically a stab wound, and just general battle violence and injuries

Read it on ao3

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“Ugh, wizzrobes again?” Legend grumbled as he slid under a bolt of electricity. “We just fought some of these clowns yesterday! Did the Shadow just give up on originality?”

“Less complaining, more fighting!” Warriors shouted at him from nearby, and Legend rolled his eyes.

“Less criticism and more fighting!” Hyrule called back with a mischievous look, and Legend almost laughed, though it turned into a yelp when he dodged another bolt of magic.

Wizzrobes were such a pain.

Especially Wild’s.

Warriors shouted at him again, but this time it was a warning, and Legend deftly jumped away from a blast of ice that would have frozen him solid. He nodded a thanks at the captain, and went back to trying to defeat the wizzrobes, which was nearly impossible with how crazily they moved.

Legend dodged a fireball, and quickly turned and shot a blast of ice at the offending monster. It shrieked, and disappeared into a puff of smoke, and Legend swapped out his ice rod for a fire rod, and did the same to another.

The different rods seemed to work well, and along with the others all fighting together, soon there was only one wizzrobe left. It was in a color Legend hadn’t seen before though, and he looked at it suspiciously.

“Yours come in purple now?” he called behind him towards where he knew Wild was sniping.

“I’ve never seen one like that before!” Wild called back, voice uncertain. “I don’t know what it—”

As he spoke, the wizzrobe grinned, letting out a deranged cackle as it shot a huge burst of magic into the sky. Purple lights flashed, and a glowing ball fell from them, dropping down into the clearing and exploding into blinding light before anyone could do a thing.

Legend yelped and covered his face with his shield, but the magic still knocked him off his feet and onto the ground. It shook into his limbs and up to his face, his vision going white and spotty. It didn’t... hurt, exactly, but something about it felt all mixed up inside of him, jolting through his body and limbs, and he felt rather discombobulated.

“Legend!”

The sensation abruptly faded, and he felt arms tugging at him. Legend gingerly opened his eyes, almost surprised he could see at all, and looked up, meeting Hyrule’s worried gaze. The traveler was looking down at him with wide eyes, and Legend blinked a few times to get the last few spots of white out of his vision.

“Are you okay?” Hyrule asked, looking him over worriedly, “you were closest to that beam, it felt like an explosion went off.”

“Fine, fine,” Legend coughed, then gingerly pulled himself up to a sitting position. “Think it was just... magic. I don’t even think it did anything to me.”

“Nothing?” Hyrule asked suspiciously, and Legend shook his head.

“No. Is everyone else okay? Where’d that wizzrobe go?”

“I haven’t checked yet, but since you’re fine I would guess they’ll be—”

An arrow slammed into the ground right between Legend’s feet.

He jumped, and in one swift movement was on his feet with his shield out, back to back with Hyrule as he looked for the enemy who’d shot. He scanned the field as he looked for where his sword had gone to, then he froze, and stared at who had fired the arrow.

Wild stood across the clearing, his bow drawn with an arrow nocked in Legend’s direction. His brows were lowered as he stared at the veteran, stance unusually firm, and something about the way he held himself just screamed danger.

Legend flicked his eyes around, and felt his breath leave him as he saw Warriors and Sky both staring at him as well, swords drawn and angled towards him in a threatening gesture. Time stood on Legend’s other side, claymore raised as he stared silently at the veteran, and Legend’s heart skipped a beat.

He and Hyrule were surrounded. By their own teammates.

No, Legend realized with a dawning horror, sunlight glinting proudly off Time and Warriors’ armor, no not my teammates.

Knights.

“Captain? What’s going on?” Twilight asked nearby, Wind and Four looking equally confused next to him.

“Traitor to the crown,” Warriors said in a low voice, eyes never blinking.

“You kidnapped the princess,” Wild added in a growl.

“We have our orders,” Sky said in a smooth voice, and raised the Master Sword accusingly. “Dead or alive.”

Legend couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t be crazy!” Wind said in disbelief, looking at Time and Warriors with a shocked expression. “Legend didn’t do anything! What’s wrong with you guys?!”

“The wizzrobe,” Four said with a sharp inhale. “That attack must have done something to make them think he’s the enemy.”

“Time, please, you know Legend, he hasn’t done anything wrong,” Twilight said gently, inching towards him. But Time stopped him with a firm glare, his sword never lowering. The knights all took a step closer to Legend, and he felt Hyrule stiffen at his back.

“Legend, you need to run,” Hyrule whispered. “Now.”

Legend couldn’t move.

Suddenly he was eleven again, staring at a wanted poster with his face on it, wondering why the reward was so high. He was eleven, screamed at by the townsfolk, and surrounded by guards just for trying to walk into the village to buy food on his quest. He was eleven, chased down by brainwashed knights and forced to fight them, some of them people he knew, his uncle’s friends, raise his uncle’s sword against them and hurt them—

“Legend RUN!”

He snapped back into himself just in time to avoid a thrust from Warriors, and Hyrule grabbed his wrist when he merely stared at the weapon that had almost killed him, pulling him away.

“Come back you traitor!” Warriors shouted, and Legend blinked, able only to watch in numb shock as Four and Twilight leapt to defend him, Hyrule still dragging him away.

Sky leapt forward, then cried out as the Master Sword fell from his grip, sparking as she was about to be used against one of her own. Wind took the opportunity to tackle him, and Legend watched blankly as the sailor wrestled Sky’s pouch away from him so he couldn’t grab any more weapons.

“Don’t hurt them!” Wind cried out, still struggling with Sky, “they’re not themselves!”

“Keep them away from Legend!” Twilight shouted as he crossed swords with Warriors, the captain swinging his blade with fierce strokes.

Hyrule nodded, and blocked a slew of arrows from plunging into Legend’s chest, then yanked him behind his back as he avoided a huge swing from Time.

“You’ve betrayed us all!” Time spat, and Hyrule crossed blades with him, nearly driven to his knees by the force of it. “You’re nothing but a false hero, poisoning the land with your lies!”

The words were like a knife, and Legend could only watch in blank shock, stunned as Hyrule struggled against Time, as Twilight and Warriors still fought against each other, Wind nearly getting punched in the face by Sky while Four tried desperately to get close enough to Wild to stop him from sniping them all down—

“Legend! Snap out of it!” Hyrule shouted as he somehow managed not to be lopped in two by another of Time’s swings. “You’re going to get killed, wake up!”

He wasn’t sure if it was the phrase or the desperation in Hyrule’s voice, but Legend finally snapped into action, firmly shaking himself. You can freak out later when half of your team isn’t trying to kill you!

Legend dove for his gilded sword, but hissed at the warning spark he felt as he grabbed it. Sometimes he forgot his blade was another version of the Master Sword, upgraded and changed, but at times like these it was impossible.

I’m not going to hurt them, I’m only defending myself, he begged as it got hotter, still stubbornly holding on even as his hands began to burn. Please, you know I’m not!

The hilt scorched his hands, and Legend was forced to shove it into its sheathe, grabbing in his pouch for a backup sword. Before he could though, something swung towards him, and he only barely got his shield up in time to block it.

The strike threw him to the ground for the second time today, and Legend nearly had the breath knocked out of him. His eyes widened as Wild raised a claymore of some kind to strike him with, and he just barely managed to roll out of the way of another hit.

“Champion I don’t want to have to hurt you,” he gritted out, but Wild didn’t reply.

His face was eerily closed-off as he tried to hit him, strikes almost clinically precise. Legend had to dodge all over the place, and he still got a shallow cut on his arm. Not to mention his hands were smarting from trying to use the gilded sword, and every time a hit rang out against his shield, he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

Wild swung again, and Legend gritted his teeth and used his backup sword to shove the champion backwards, then grabbed for his ice rod again. His aching fingers closed around it, but then he felt his entire body freeze in place, yellow shining in his vision.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t defend himself. He couldn’t do anything, and he suddenly realized that Wild must have used the stasis rune on his slate on him.

No, no no no no no—

Before he could panic too much, the magic broke, and Legend stumbled, thrown off-balance. He looked around in surprise, then saw Four standing next to him, having frozen Wild’s feet to the ground with Legend’s own dropped ice rod.

He could only stare at him for a second, and startled as Four yanked him behind his shield, blocking the arrows Wild was shooting at them again.

“Should have gotten his arms too,” he cursed, then turned towards Legend. “Vet, they’re all after you, you need to go find that wizzrobe and beat it. That should break the magic, I think it’s our best bet. We can keep them all busy while you go.”

“But— you’re outnumbered,” Legend said a bit hysterically, his panic over the whole situation starting to come back, “not in numbers but skill, have you ever seen Sky and the captain duel? Not to mention the old man, he could probably take on all of you at once—”

Four put a hand on his arm, and gave him a small smile as he raised his sword.

“I can get us some more help. But you need to go.”

Legend swallowed, but he knew Four was right, and gave him a nod as he grabbed his ice rod and bolted in the direction he’d last seen the wizzrobe.

He suddenly felt like he was eleven again.

He caught sight of Hyrule as he ran, the traveler using his magic to stay away from Time’s deadly swings. He had blood on his leg, but his face was as determined as ever, and he firmly blocked Time from following when the older hero saw Legend running away.

“Coward!” he heard shouted behind him, but Legend kept running despite the sting it left in his chest.

He bolted past Twilight, who had an arrow in his arm and multiple other injuries, but was continuing to fight anyway, blocking Warriors’ strikes with a grieved look, almost like he’d been forced to do this before. Wind was still wrestling with Sky, fists flying as the Skyloftian tried desperately to get his weapons back, but Wind was determined to keep him down.

Every instinct of Legend’s was screaming at him to turn around and fight, help his friends, his brothers, he had so many items that could help them— but he forced himself to continue, ignoring a pained cry when he heard it.

Legend was smart enough to realize the only way they would all get out of this alive would be if he broke the curse. They couldn’t stand against some of the best fighters of their group forever— it was only a matter of time before someone was seriously hurt.

But no matter how many times he told himself that, it still felt like he was abandoning them.

This is the only way to help right now. You’re not leaving them, you’re doing what needs to be done.

If you stayed here, you would only make their job more difficult.

Legend searched desperately through the trees for a flash of purple, hoping desperately the wizzrobe was still in the area.

He had no way of knowing if he was looking in the right spot or not. For all he knew, the wizzrobe was long gone, but he kept looking, even as the clashing of swords still rang in his ears, and a scream that sounded a bit like Four echoed nearby.

Legend bit down on his lip so hard he tasted blood, and ignored the stinging that had started up in his eyes as he searched.

The others were back there somewhere, fighting against their brothers, risking their lives, all for him, to keep him safe, and he’d frozen and barely helped them and now he couldn’t even find the stupid wizzrobe.

“Come on! Come out and fight me!” he screamed, voice breaking a little. “Are you afraid? Because you better be!”

A giggle flitted through the trees, and Legend shot a blast of ice out, the laughter only growing.

Purple weaved through the foliage, and Legend shot another blast out, obviously missing due to the giggle he overheard. He knew his emotions were making him sloppy, and Legend forced himself to steady his hand. He breathed out, lowering his weapon and acting as if he was unaware of where the wizzrobe was.

Come on, take the bait...

A giggle erupted in his face, and Legend thrust out his ice rod, making the wizzrobe scream as it was launched backwards. It fell to the ground, stuck solidly in a chunk of ice, and Legend pulled out his fire rod, prepared to burn it to a crisp.

Then something hit him in the side, and he went flying, crying out as he fell to the grass.

His side ached where he’d been hit, and before he could move, what felt like a foot stepped down on his chest, pressing against his doubtlessly bruised ribs and stopping him from getting up. Legend opened his eyes and saw Warriors staring silently down at him, sword raised to pierce him through.

Somehow he’d gotten past the others.

“Wars— Warriors don’t,” Legend choked out, struggling to catch his breath. “Link, please I’m not your enemy!”

“You’re a traitor,” Warriors said in a cold voice, still not blinking. He had blood running down his face from a cut over his eye, but his face showed no sign of pain. “My orders are clear.”

“Captain wake up!” Legend shouted, terror rising in his throat. “You’re not yourself, you’d never hurt any of us, snap out of it!”

Warriors didn’t react in the slightest, and raised his sword.

Legend felt a burst of panic, and he shot his arm out, feeling desperately for where he’d dropped his fire rod. If he could just kill the wizzrobe, Warriors would wake up, the spell would break—

Warriors’ sword went down as Legend’s fingers closed around his rod, and he shot a desperate plume of flame towards the dazed wizzrobe.

The fire hit it right as Warriors’ sword buried itself in his middle, and Legend’s scream mixed with the wizzrobe’s, hot agony slicing into his chest. The sword was pulled out again only seconds later, but then Warriors stumbled back, the weapon dropping from his hands.

Legend barely noticed, trying not to scream again as the sword fell to the ground beside him, already feeling blood start to dampen his tunic.

Okay, okay okay easy, you’ve been stabbed before, no big deal. Just because Warriors was who did it doesn’t change a thing, put pressure on it, you need to put pressure—

His chest burned and Legend couldn’t hold back a cry, taking thick breaths through his nose.

Goddesses please, not like this, he’ll never forgive himself.

“L-Legend?” Warriors said dizzily, shaking his head as he tried to clear it. He put a hand to his forehead, and blinked several times, wiping blood from his face with a confused look. “Vet, what...”

Then his eyes focused, and he noticed the stab wound in his chest.

“LEGEND!”

Warriors dropped to his knees beside him, and Legend couldn’t help but jerk away from him, nearly shrieking as the captain immediately pressed his hands to his middle, trying to stem the flow.

“Legend don’t move, what happened how did this...”

Warriors trailed off as his gaze landed on his bloodied sword, and every bit of color drained from his face as he recognized it as his own.

“Legend?” he said shakily, and Legend swallowed, unable to stop himself from meeting his eyes.

A sword was abruptly pressed to Warriors’ neck, and Legend watched dizzily as Twilight forced the captain back, the look in his eyes equally furious and horrified. Warriors jerked like he wanted to go back to Legend, but he raised his arms in surrender, and moved back as Hyrule dropped to his side. More of the Links rushed into the clearing around Legend, but Warriors only had eyes for him, confusion and horror shining bright.

Hyrule’s hands pressed against his middle, and Legend sucked in another trembling breath.

“It— it’s gone,” he stuttered, and felt something warm slip past his lips. Oh that’s not good. “Wizzrobe— he’s not— not g-gonna—”

“Don’t talk Legend, you’ll be fine,” Hyrule said firmly, and Legend wasn’t sure if he imagined the tremble in his voice or not. “Just stay awake, okay? I’m gonna fix you up.”

Hyrule moved a careful hand around his chest, feeling at the injury, and Legend tensed, hissing through his teeth. Someone’s hand touched his head, and he flinched, choking as something moved in his middle.

The cold he’d been trying to ignore was growing closer now, nipping at his extremities, trying to suck him down. Legend firmly ignored the feeling, despite how easy it would be to sink into it, and focused on Hyrule’s face, blearily realizing there was blood on his shoulder. He wondered who had done that to him.

The pressure on his chest abruptly increased, and Legend couldn’t muffle his scream, so many sensations hitting him that his brain couldn’t even process it.

Then something began to trickle through his middle, something that warmed the cold that had been falling over him. Warmth blossomed in his chest, different from the hot blood that had been trickling across it, and Legend exhaled, relaxing slightly as Hyrule’s magic wove through him.

Once he could focus enough to realize Hyrule was still healing him, he reached down and grabbed his wrist, giving him a look.

“I’m good, don’t overextend yourself,” he said a little shakily, and he cut Hyrule off when he went to argue. “You already used a lot of magic, I saw you.”

“You lost a lot of blood,” Hyrule retorted.

“Well I’m not the only one who’s going to need healing,” Legend said more quietly, and Hyrule stopped, the glow fading from his hands.

Twilight appeared in his vision then, arrow still jutting from his arm, and he scanned Legend’s bloodstained middle in silence. Then he met Legend’s gaze, looking much older then he normally did.

“You definitely got the wizzrobe?” he asked seriously, and Legend nodded, his eyes suddenly heavy with exhaustion.

“It’s dead. The spell broke the moment I got it,” he said in a quiet voice. “They won’t... they’re safe.”

Oh gods I hope they are.

Twilight exhaled, and nodded, putting a hand on Legend’s arm.

“Okay. Try and get some rest, Veteran. We’ll handle things.”

“Take the literal arrow out of your arm first,” he muttered back, and a faint smile pulled at Twilight’s lips.

“We’re working on fixing everyone up. Rest. We can... we’ll figure all of this out later,” Twilight said quietly, glancing behind him at something. Legend followed his gaze, and saw Warriors sitting on a log, staring silently at the blood on his hands.

The others who’d been affected by the wizzrobe were nearby, and Sky looked like he was trying to talk to the captain, but Legend looked away as Hyrule began to bandage his middle.

Traitor!

Legend closed his eyes, and tried not to listen to any of the voices that still rang around his head, or focus on the horrified look of Warriors’ that was still seared into his mind.

He didn’t want to think about it. Any of it.

[nade2308]

I was thinking long and hard about what to do for today's theme. Ultimately I decided on the parallels between Julia and Ilsa bringing Ethan back to life by having to shock him with electricity. These two moments give me feels.

@thethistlegirl

@whumptober

AO3 link here

[whumpsday]

K&J: Kane's Whumptober Bites #4

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, starvation, electrocution, torture, captivity, multiple whumpers, sadistic whumper

@whumptober Day 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.” / Cattle Prod / Shock / “You in there?”

-

The hunters laughed as Kane lunged forward again, pulling his chain taut. It wasn’t even silver this time, the steel more than enough to hold him in his starved state, but it didn’t matter.

All that mattered was the blood. Right there, glistening and red and rich and delicious and everything he’s ever wanted, dripping decadently from the hunter’s finger, forming a lovely red trail down his hand. Kane needed it more than anything. He couldn’t even find it in him to be afraid, in that moment, every ounce of his mind devoted solely to his desperate need for food.

He whined, eyes wild, trying to scramble forward as best he could, broken nails scrabbling against concrete floor. It was no use. The chain pulled at his ankle, stopping him from getting close. From sinking his fangs into that hand, into its owner’s neck, from drinking and drinking until he’s finally had his fill–

“You in there, parasite?” One of the other hunters poked him in the head with something plastic, but Kane couldn’t focus on that right now.

Fangs bared, he pulled and pulled, reaching his arms out desperately toward the bleeding hunter. His whines were louder now, and he managed to express a coherent thought: “Please, I need it! I’m so hungry!”

Another round of laughter.

“Oh, I dunno, I think you’re perfect just the way you are. Let’s see if we can get you under control another way.”

The plastic thing came back, but turned around this time, poking him in the chest with the other end– not plastic. Metal. He yelped at the burn, flinching back. But this was different from silver, not the same kind of burn.

As his eyes focused, Kane realized it wasn’t a burn at all, but a shock. They’d poked him with a cattle prod.

“I– I’m s-sorry, sir–”

The bleeding hunter squeezed his finger, another drop of blood oozing from the small cut. The last of the coherent thought vanished as the intoxicating smell intensified, and he leapt once more, his chain pulling tight and forcing him back to the ground.

He screamed as the other hunter stuck the prod into the back of his neck and held it there, not letting up.

“Not sorry enough. Don’t worry, we’ll teach you.”

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 4: "I see the danger, it's written there in your eyes" + "You in there?"

Read on Ao3

- Wind & Warriors

- Summary: Wind is forced to fight a malice-possessed Warriors

CW for possession, blood and injury, and mild body horror

---------------

Wind has seen Warriors in many different states. He has seen him pale and haggard from stress and exhaustion, ashen and white-faced from deep wounds. He has seen his eyes crinkle with laughter and his expression fall as he cries. He has seen him angry and joyful, heartbroken and terrified.

But never has he seen him like this.

The knight stands before him, wavering unsteadily on his feet. One half of his face is pale – too pale – and his eye shines abnormally bright from within it. But the other half is coated in a mass of sticky-looking purple-black goo. It clings to him like a mask, burrowing beneath his eye socket. The usual Hylian blue of his eye has turned to black and his pupil is a golden, cat-like slit rimmed in crimson.

The purple stuff travels down his body from there. It trails along the curve of his neck, spreading around his chest, creeping across his abdomen, traveling down to wind about his left leg. It gurgles as he takes a stumbling step forward.

“What’s the matter, sailor?” He grins, cracked lips pulling back to reveal crimson-tinged teeth. “Do you not like this new version of me?”

Wind takes a step back. His sword feels heavy in his hand.

“You-you’re not you, Warriors.”

Even saying it makes his throat feel tight. But he has to. He has to speak the truth.

When the Captain had gone missing last week, he had feared the worst. They all had. And when Wolfie had tracked his scent to Hyrule Castle, the mood had only dipped further.

(“No one goes in this place, anymore,” Wild had said, gazing at the castle with something akin to bitterness. “Not unless they don’t want to come out. There’s malice hidden in the walls. Zelda and I haven’t gotten around to cleaning it up yet.”)

But even that hadn’t completely dashed Wind’s hopes. Warriors was tough – is tough – and he had thought…well, he had thought he would find him when he had walked into the castle. Injured maybe, and in need of help, but not like this. Not unrecognizable, a monster in the form of his brother.

That is who he must face, however. And now with the rest of the heroes locked outside, he is left to face him alone.

“You’ve gotta fight it,” he pleads as Warriors comes steadily closer. “I know you can do it! You’ve just gotta try!”

“Try?” Warriors laughs and the sound seems to echo off of the stone walls. “There is nothing to try. This is what I am now, and I am better for it.”

He raises his sword. His breathing is haggard, every inhale sharp. Wind can’t say he’s afraid of him…not truly, not when he knows there is still a part of him, hidden deep within that is the Warriors he knows and loves. But when the goo begins traveling along the floor toward him, he can’t help the way his heart leaps into his throat.

“I was a servant of the goddess for so long,” Warriors continues, his voice hoarse and crackling. “I thought she gave me purpose, made me strong. But now I see that that was all a lie.”

Wind swallows. He can feel the tension in the air, building up for the knight’s next words.

“Why would I serve her, when I could have the ability to resurrect one infinitely more powerful?

“Ganondorf.”

He had known it was coming, but the name hits him like a massive wave anyway. Wind takes a step forward now, anger and fear coursing through him.

“He’s the bad guy and you know it!” He cries. “I know you do!”

Warriors only chuckles, the sound grating and sinister. “You’re foolish, just as I was. But you’ll see soon enough.” He grins, eyes glinting. “Or you’ll die.”

“Sailor!” Twilight calls from behind him. His words mingle with the curses and sounds of frustration of the other heroes. Their voices are muffled by the thick walls that stand between them and Wind, but he can hear them well enough. “What’s going on in there? Are you okay?”

Wind drags in a breath. His palms are sweaty, his hands trembling.

“Wars is…he-he’s covered in purple gooey stuff.”

“He’s what?!” It’s Wild now, panic sharp in his tone. “Sailor, is he acting weird?”

“Yeah.” His voice trembles and he clears his throat. “He…I-I think he’s possessed.”

“Possessed?” He can hear Legend groan. “That’s just our luck.”

“I’m going to find another way in,” Time says, voice brittle as ice. “You all remain here and aid the sailor any way you can.”

“There is no other—” Wild cuts off with an audible sigh. Wind guesses the old man went off before he could finish.

“He’s still fighting,” Wind says, even as he steps back again, trying vainly to keep some distance between him and the slowly advancing captain. “There’s gotta be a way we can help him.”

“There is,” Wild replies. “Listen, Wind, he’s trapped in malice. So, you’ve got to shoot the…”

A piercing scream drowns out his next words. Wind startles, grip on his sword tightening in preparation. But Warriors has stopped short and the malice with him. 

He is curled in on himself now, hunched figure looking so much weaker and more broken than seconds before. He presses a hand to his face and instantly the goop oozes over his fingertips. The scream trails off into a moan that quickly turns into a croaked word. 

“Wind?”

The sailor inhales sharply at the sound. Hope leaps inside his chest.

“It’s me, captain! I’m here! We-we’re all here! We’re gonna save you!”

Warriors falls to his knees. Wind can’t help but take a step towards him. But then the captain lifts his head and there is such anguish in his expression that it breaks his heart. He comes to a halt, throat dangerously tight.

“Wind….” The word is softer this time, more breathed than spoken. “I-I can’t…”

“You can!” Wind takes another step, ignoring the warning signals blaring in his brain. This is his brother and he’s not about to abandon him now. “I believe in you, Wars! You can fight this!”

The edges of Warriors’ mouth lift just slightly. A tear rolls down his cheek.

“Sailor,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry…please…run.”

There’s a beat of silence. And then, he begins to cackle.

He rises on shaky legs, stumbling upward like a redead rising to consume its prey. He moves forward, every step slow and jerky. The malice spreads out like a carpet before him.

Warriors grins, all sharp teeth and deathly pale skin. Blood dribbles from his mouth.

“You thought you’d won, didn’t you? You thought you wouldn’t have to fight me. So sorry to disappoint.”

He flicks a finger and suddenly the malice speeds up. It zips toward Wind in a blur of violet and black and bits of crimson. His heart jumps into his throat and he leaps sideways. Not a moment too soon either. The malice collides with the wall behind him with a sickening splat.

Wind cringes.

Is that how it had attacked Warriors? He wonders. But there isn’t time to imagine how such a horrifying fate had befallen his brother. Because Warriors whirls with startling speed and strikes again.

This time Wind is better prepared. He drops into a somersault. The malice rushes past his ear, so close he’s almost sure it’s going to hit the tip. But then he’s up again, just behind Warriors. Taking a deep breath he raises his sword and brings it down on the mass of malice that trails in the captain’s wake.

The hit does nothing.

The malice retracts, then with an unholy screech reaches for him. Wind’s eyes go wide.

He dodges, shoulder colliding painfully with the wall. Warriors turns to him with a leering smirk. Wind is unpleasantly reminded of the little imps in the Forbidden Fortress — the ones that poked at his heels and chased him up the walls. The thought makes him sick.

Warriors isn’t supposed to look like that.

“You’re fast,” the captain says. “And skilled. No wonder I loved you. At first I wasn’t sure how I could’ve cared about  some kid. But now I know. You were useful.”

Wind swallows, hard. The words hurt him more than he’d like to admit.

It’s not true. He doesn’t mean it, he tells himself, firmly. It’s the malice talking, not him.

Warriors leaps toward him again, this time bringing his sword slicing through the air. Wind is forced to hurl himself sideways to escape being pinned against the wall.

But he doesn’t have time to even catch his breath. Malice surges toward him across the ground, grasping his feet even as he turns. He struggles, fear running hot in his veins. Its grip is strong, however, and it holds him firmly in place.

Warriors stalks up to him. Wind forces himself to meet his crazed stare.

“You can’t run anymore,” he sneers. “Fight me or die. There are no other options.” He steps closer, hand outstretched inches from Wind’s face. Malice encases his fingertips. “Unless, of course, you would rather join me.”

He tilts his head and the way the light falls upon the still-human side of his face almost makes him look like himself again. Almost. 

“You could help me resurrect him. You could help me bring an end to this world.”

Tears run in rivulets down his cheeks. He tastes salt. But Wind curls his hand into fist. 

“I won’t help you. Not like that. I’m gonna set you free!”

Warriors straightens, sword clasped tightly in his fist. The eye of malice narrows, as though seeking prey. Its contrasting array of colors seem to gleam.

With it so close, Wind finds it hard to take his gaze off of it. His hands almost itch to lose an arrow into it like he has done in so many dungeons.

Legend’s voice echoes in his mind, colored with peals of laughter.

“Always shoot the eye.”

Then, comes Wild, tone panicked but determined, muffled by the thick walls, cut off by Warriors’ cries of agony.

“You’ve gotta shoot the…”

Wind inhales sharply.

That’s it! 

There is still hope, after all.

The malice continues to climb sluggishly up his body, weighing him down. The darkness that emanated off of it is suffocating. Lifting a shaking hand, Warriors aims the tip of his sword at his heart.

“Then you’ll die.”

Wind takes a deep breath. Swiping at his tears, he steels himself. Hand heavy, heart in his throat, he lifts his sword.

Please let this work, he prays.

And then, he plunges the weapon into Warriors’ face.

There is a nauseating squish, a skull-splitting scream, and Warriors crumples. The malice around Wind’s legs dissipates in a cloud of dark violet specks. The goop on and around Warriors follows suit seconds later.

Instantly, Wind is on his knees, sword sheathed, hands on Warriors’ shoulder. He turns the knight over, choking out his name as the windows and doorways of the Sanctum slide open and the sunlight streams in. It illuminates the captain’s — now completely human — face in blessed light.

Distantly, Wind registers that the others are racing into the room, calling his and Warriors’ names, punctuated with panicked questions. But he can’t bring himself to reply.

Warriors’ eyes are closed now, his freed body still.

…Too still. Wind watches his chest, waiting for it to rise.

“Come on.” Tears spring to his eyes anew and roll down his cheeks, tracing the paths of their predecessors. He doesn’t bother to wipe them away. “Come on, Warriors, wake up.”

Please don’t be dead.

Time is dropping down beside him now, already uncorking a bottle. A fairy flies free and heads straight for the fallen captain. Wind watches as she begins to whirl around him.

Her dance seems to last forever. But then, at last, she zips away and disappears.

Wind leans forward, holding his breath.

Abruptly, Warriors jolts upward coughing and gasping. He looks around the room, wildly, eyes wide and panicked. But they are blue as the Great Sea and full of the life he knows so well and Wind can feel nothing in that moment except joy and relief.

“Warriors!” He wraps his arms tightly around the captain, half to support him and half to cling to him. To remind himself he is still here, alive. That he is safe.

Warriors stiffens and pulls back, eyes roaming his body.

“Sailor,” he croaks in the voice that is so unmistakably his. “Are-are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

With a shaky smile, Wind drags him back into the hug. “I’m fine! Promise! Don’t worry about me.”

Warriors makes a sound like a half-sob. He shudders.

“I-I’m so, so sorry.”

The sailor shakes his head, viciously. “Don’t be! It wasn’t you.”

“But I should have…I could have fought…”

Time leans forward, setting a hand on both of their shoulders. Emboldened by his presence Wind sucks in a breath, nearly choking on tears.

“You did fight, captain! I saw you. You-you fought all you could!”

“There is nothing else you could’ve done,” Time adds, quietly. “The champion hasn’t known anyone to resist the pull of such evil, save for Flora. And it seems you continued to battle it for quite some time.”

Warriors doesn’t reply. He slumps, defeated, and Wind holds him tighter.

“I’m just glad you’re okay. I-I was really worried.” He raises his head to look Warriors in the face. “You…are okay now, right?”

There are tears running down Warriors’ pale cheeks, blood trickling from his mouth and various wounds Wind can see now that the malice is gone. But he cracks a broken smile.

“Yeah, I’m alright now, sailor. All thanks to you.”

[serickswrites]

"Written There In Your Eyes"

Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, electrocution, rescue

Whumpee's chest was heaving. They hadn't been able to get a good breath in for hours. Between the tightness of the metal chains around their chest and the repeated shocks with a cattle prod, Whumpee's bones buzzed, their chest ached, and they could think clearly.

And their heart was racing out of control.

"Why won't you just give me what I want?" Whumper had hissed minutes--hours?--ago.

Whumpee put everything into the smirk they threw Whumper. "Where's....the....fun...in...that?" It had taken all of their breath to get that sentence out, but the look on Whumper's face had been worth it.

They just needed to hold on a bit longer. They knew Caretaker was coming. The team was coming. They just had to hold on until the cavalry arrived. Just a bit longer.

Fortunately Whumper had left in a huff after Whumpee's comment. No doubt they were trying to calm themself down so they didn't kill Whumpee. They needed the information that Whumpee had.

Or so Whumper thought. Whumpee did not have the information. But they had lied, hoping it would lure Whumper out into the open and the team could catch them.

And Whumpee's plan had worked. Sort of. They just hadn't accounted for Whumper's determination to eliminate a threat with minimal effort. And taking Whumpee when they had been home alone sleeping had been their perfect opportunity.

Whumpee just focused on their breathing. Focused on trying to control their heartbeat. Focused on anything to keep themself awake. And alive.

Distant sounds of banging and a struggle came, but Whumpee couldn't focus enough to care. Whatever it was, threat or not, it would make itself known to them eventually.

A banging came on the door to their cell. If Whumpee had the energy they would have jumped. As it was, they barely lifted their head. "Whumpee? Whumpee? Are you in there?" Caretaker's voice was strained with worry.

Whumpee took as deep a breath as possible. "Here," they called weakly, hoping it was loud enough for Caretaker to hear.

"Whumpee?" Caretaker called again.

Whumpee closed their eyes, drawing on their remaining strength. Caretaker needed to hear them. "HERE!"

Caretaker threw the door open just as Whumpee slumped forward. "WHUMPEE!" Caretaker rushed forward, the team on their heels. "Talk to me, Whumpee. Talk to me."

"Y're......'ere," Whumpee whispered. They closed their eyes and swallowed. They held on. Caretaker was here. Caretaker found them.

"I'm here. I'm here. Hold on, Whumpee. Hold on a bit longer. Help is on the way." Caretaker nodded to Teammate One. "Get them out of these chains. I don't like their respiration rate."

Teammate One nodded and went to work while Teammate Two searched the room. "Boss," they said carefully as they found the modified cattle prod. "I think I know what's wrong with Whumpee."

That's good, Whumpee thought as the darkness that had been threatening to consume them inched ever closer. I can't breathe enough to speak.

"Got 'em," Teammate One said triumphantly as they unlocked the padlock on the coils of chains.

Whumpee sagged forward in the chains as their breath went out in a sigh. Finally.

Caretaker could hear Whumpee's rasping breaths becoming more and more irregular. As they looked at the cattle prod in Teammate Two's hand, their heart beat quickened. "We have no time to lose!" They scooped up the limp and pliable Whumpee into their arms and started to run. They wouldn't lose Whumpee now. Not after everything.

"Hold on, Whumpee, hold on," they murmured as they ran. "Hold on."

[sheppardsmckay]

Whumptober2023

No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”