#'i could hand him the dull side of a blade and he'd still cut his hand on it!'

[starry-bi-sky]

I had a vision. And that vision was “you’ll always be the kid who grew up watching minecraft roleplays” and so i made an silly au of an au where Sam’s a streamer on a random Minecraft SMP with Lore w/ a bunch of other small streamers, and Danyal Specifically is the Cryptid Fan Favorite on her channel. He’s never shown his face but he’s joined her in VC. His username is “SneakAhead” and there is Lore About Him on the server. His bat motif is because he started out in the most Generic Ass Looking Batman skin he could find and thought it was hilarious. Sam eventually got one made for him but the bat motif stuck. Tucker is also on here as TFGeek. Danny built a giant labyrinth under his house to trap intruders and hunt them for sport.

Danyal Al Ghul doodle dumps from my Danyal Al Ghul Au. I was thinking about Him earlier today, and thus decided to draw him. Tis good headshape practice, and just drawing practice in general. You can spot the time difference not by the lighting but by the fact Danny suddenly has curls. Plus an honorary colored version because it twas one of my favorites

[ghosts-cant-sleep]

last night i dreamt we did our laundry together

re2 leon kennedy x male! reader warnings: yearning. notes: n/a.

fem dni.

Morning dew clung to the windows, a hazy, young dawn hanging as a heavy blue blanket over the slowly waking city.

A still morning, just as good as any other. Silence only broken by the scuffing of shoes echoing from the other side of the break room door, the buzzing of the fridge, the slow turning of the fan, it's blades creaking.

[Name]'s nails tapped against the flimsy paper of his coffee cup, it's heat warming his palms, held snug between both hands, fingers interlocked. Coffee had stained the outside of the cup, the outline of a long drop stretching down the length. He was never great at keeping his hands still.

He had tried to whipe similar spills he'd caused on the one he'd brought in for Leon, but to little avail. He could0 only hope the fact it was free coffee would make up for its messiness. That, and the handful of a few different creamers he'd brought-- he wasn't exactly sure how Leon took his coffee.

He kept his gaze glued to his own cup, all too aware of his own body as he sat in the flimsy metal chairs, the slightest shift of his elbows causing the table to shift and wobbling-- the damn old thing-- how the fabric of his slacks clung to his legs, his shoes digging into the back of his heel.

Every thought that passed through his head neared either destructive, or delusional-- the in-between was negligible, and in the past few months, he hasn't thought of much else besides the man infront of him.

He didn't like the word *crush.* It felt childish-- immature. He was a man, not some school boy fauning on the playground. Unfortunately, there was no better word to describe what he felt, try as he might to find one.

Even worse than that was the way his own mind toyed with him because of it.

In fleeting moments, he swore those butterflies in his stomach, the rapid beating of his heart, the genuine want to come into work for more than just his paycheck, were all mutual. What else could it all mean? The lingering gazes, the routine 'good night's' and 'mornings' they exchanged, the little grazes of Leon's palm right between his shoulder blades as he moved past, knees brushing whenever they sat just a little to close to eachother at roll call. God, what else could it mean?

Then, the next minute, [Name]'s world seemed to dull around him the moment any womans name rolled off Leon's toungue. Dread would wrap its heavy hands around his throat and squeeze till every word died in mouth.

He never entertained the idea of a confession either. He'd built up something good with Leon, made himself a friend in an utterly imposing city, and a great one at that. It'd be selfish of him to throw it all out for something as trivial as this.

He often didn't trust himself enough to keep that promise most days. On late nights, especially. The two of them in the station, wasting away the night while they were supposed to be working. His teeth dug into his toungue much harsher those days.

"Hey," Leon's voice cuts through his thoughts, a rush of nerves and anxiety swiftly bunching in his gut in painful, tight knots.

[Name]'s eyes snap to Leon's, breath stilling. He worries he'd somehow given himself away. Was he thinking out loud, staring without realizing, or was there an undeniable want in his eyes he could never hide?

He takes in every inch of Leon's face, his expression, the slight twitch of his muscles beneath the skin of cheeks, the ones he were hardly aware of. A crease between his brows, bunched together, a tense pursing of his lips, the corners of his mouth twitching into a frown.

"You alright there?" Leon finally asks, head tipping to the side, blonde hair sweeping over his brow. From beneath the table, his foot nudges against [Name]'s.

"Yeah," [Name] breathes out all too quickly, the heat of embarrassment washing over his skin, his clothes feeling all the more unbearable. "Just a long night is all," he tries to laugh it off, bringing a coffee-warmed hand to the circles under his eyes, trying to rub them from his face, maybe give Leon something more pleasant to look at.

Leon's unconvinced. He usually is. This would all be much less nerve-wracking if he'd just been a smidge dumber.

"Right." Still, as he always does, he nods, face shifting into that smile of his. The overall softening of his features, lips tilting up, the edges of his top teeth peaking out as his lips part. This time around, his grin doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Well, you know I'm always here if you need anything."

"Yeah," [Name] pulls his gaze back down to his hands, leaning further back into his seat.

Leon was a hard man not to like, and this was just another example. Relentlessly compassionate and kind. Always there to stick his neck out for everyone and anyone. Just talking to him made everything feel so much lighter. [Name] wasn't even half the man Leon was, and it was nearly that reason alone [Name] knew Leon would always deserve much more than him.

"What was it?"

[Name]'s attention is swiftly brought back to Leon. "What was what?"

"Y'know... What was keeping you up?"

"Oh." You, god it was you-- it's always *fucking* you. A gwaing ache eating him from the inside out, cracking open his ribs and making a home in the deepest parts of his being. Arm wrapped around a pillow, face burried into the fabric, pretending he could hear a heart beating beneath the casing. Burring himself under layers of thick blankets, manufacturing a warm embrace. His own hand ran it's fingers up and down the side of his ribs, trying to imagine what it'd feel like if it wasn't his own touch for once. "Nothing really. Just uh, stayed up thinking, I guess."

"About what?

"Just, uh, paper work, and stuff... I dunno, really. You know how late nights can get," he weakly laughs. Every word that slipped from his tongue felt like an awkward caricature of what a normal person should sound like. "When I did manage to get to sleep-- it was really only for a few minutes, really. Felt more like a nap, really, but I feel like you can't really call them naps at night. I still ended up staying awake for most of the night, so. Uhm, but you were in my dream, actually."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. It was about you-- or, I guess not *about* you. It's just, you were in it, like us-- you and me, I guess. So, it was kind of about us."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"... Well, don't leave me hanging here. What happened?"

"I mean, I don't really know how to explain it," he mutters with a soft breath. He pulls a nerves breath from the tension-thick air around them, stuffy and near suffocating. He takes a hasty sip of his coffee, burning the tip of his tongue, holding back a wince. It was all an attempt to stall, to give himself a chance to get a damn grip. "We were in my house, like, my childhood house, back in my hometown. We were in my parents' room, but the furniture was all different-- like switched around, y'know? And we were just... sitting on the bed, folding some laundry."

"Folding laundry?" he repeats with a small laugh.

"Yeah," [Name] attempted to echo the sound, voice cracking at the end. "Folding laundry. There was some song playing, but it wasn't really coming from anywhere. I didn't really recognize it, and to tell you the truth, I don't even remember what it sounded like, but we were both singing along. It wasn't all that bad."

It felt remarkably real in the moment. He woke up nearly believing he'd fallen asleep in a pile of freshly washed clothes. He'd smelt the detergent, the warm of the clothes on his hands, the dip in the bed from Leon's weight in front of him.

But, he'd woken up to the dreery ceiling of his apartment, blankets half off his bed, yet still sweating.

"Doesn't sound all that bad," Leon concedes after a tentative sip of his coffee. "Not sure how happy I'd be after dreaming about chores. Can't say I enjoy doing laundry all that much.

"Yeah, I mean, me neither." His body moves without much thought behind it, mirroring Leon's as if second nature.

Nobody liked chores, laundry least of all, but some company made it feel all the better. He'd like it, [Name] thinks, at least. Something about the thought of standing by the sink, hands scrubbed away as dried food with a flimsy sponge, even if Leon just sat by the counter, talking about anything and everything. He could do that for hours. Shoving dirty uniforms into the washing machine, filling out tax forms, picking up around the apartment, arguing over identical paint swatches. Maybe they'd have a dastardly little creature running around, wreaking havoc; maybe a cat, maybe a kid. Existing with him.

It was stupid dream, one he'd do well to forget about as soon as he could

"... Anything else?"

"... Yeah, actually. You were wearing those bright-ass white shoes. Somehow, they looked even goofier than usual. So, pretty accurate a things considered."

[jaybird3756]

Daystar's story: Thrice-blooded

This chapter takes place when Day is eight; the other boys are around the same age.

This chapter contains: graphic depictions of violence, murder of children, animal cruelty/ death, cannibalism, gore, and implied/referenced child abuse. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

I've tried to depict the feelings of the character in detail as well as the gore and cannibalism so readers (you!) can get as vivid a picture as possible without having experienced this.

It was another quiet day in the forest, sun dappling through the trees as the wind gently ruffled the leaves creating a soft hiss that floated among the tree trunks. Daystar spent more and more time out here; the other kids in the village were unbearable to be around and the adults even more so. A few years ago, he'd been too young to understand the things they whispered behind his back but now it was harder and harder not to hear the insults and jeers every time he looked at a person. 

His ears pricked up. The breeze seemed to be carrying those voices from the village into his woodland sanctuary. 

"That kid's nothing but trouble".... "His father ought to've thrown him off a cliff as a toddler".... "A punishment from the Gods" The trees whispered. 

Go away, Day thought, clamping his hands over his big ears. It shut out the sound of the forest breeze but not the scathing remarks of the townsfolk.

"Insane".... "A dangerous lunatic".... "Maimed someone when you were three".... "Not fit to be a chief, not fit to be a viking".... "Lock you up and throw away the key".... "Too dangerous to live among civil folk"

Daystar dug his claws into his forehead, trying to snap back to reality with the prick of his claws digging into his skull.

"Stop it",  he whispered. He wanted to scream, he wanted to stab something, he wanted to march down into the village and cut out the tongue of everyone who was mean to him. He shuddered at the thought, not out of revulsion but with the happy tingle in his stomach. A toothy smile spread across his face involuntarily. 

"You're a freak, Daystar".... "A horrible person".... "You don't even know what you're doing wrong".... "How could you be so stupid, how do you not get it by now?".... "Daystar the disturbed, Daystar the disappointment, Daystar the deranged".... "Nightshade's cursed to have a brother like you"

Daystar's hands fell from his ears down to his sides. It's all in your head, he told himself. All in your stupid head. He hadn't noticed the tears rolling down his cheeks until one dripped off his chin. The pitiful reaction instantly boiled his sadness into rage. I am NOT upset! Why should I even care what they think! He gritted his teeth, hand reaching for the dagger ever present on his person. He hurled it blindly at a tree's branch. 

He expected to hear the dull CRACK of the blade imbedding into wood. That is not the sound he heard. What he did hear was a high-pitched, shrill twittering like the sound a bird makes when being chased by the little Anklebiter dragons. He wiped the tears away with his other hand to clear his vision. A bird was pinned to the branch by a knife sticking through it. His knife had impaled through where the bird's wing joined to its body. It may have been some sort of dove but it was hard to tell now with the blood painting its feathers red, dripping onto the ground. The bird was still screeching, flapping its wings wildly, flinging droplets of blood. 

Day stood transfixed by the creature's dying struggle. His feet moved him closer without thinking about it. He reached up for the knife. The bloody bird pecked at him, flailing wildly. He pulled the knife from the dove's wing and it fell to the ground at his feet. Immediately some primal instinct urged the bird to fly away; the crippled creature just flapped around in frantic circles like a puppet with half the strings cut. 

Daystar lifted his boot and placed it on the bird, gently pinning it in place. He slowly increased the pressure. The bird screamed. It screamed and thrashed as he felt brittle snaps under his foot. When its lungs were too crushed to make another noise, it just stared at him with those beady black eyes. He stopped adding pressure and stared back. It was almost as if.... No, it was pleading with its eyes, begging him. To let it go or end its suffering, he wasn't sure. He was in control now. Everything else in his life was out of control. He couldn't do anything about his parents, or the insults of his future subjects, or the mean kids that tormented him. I can't kill them, he mused, the creepy smile etched across his face. The bird stared at him with the dull, pained, fearful expression of a dying creature. 

"But I can kill you." He stated to the bird, drinking in the fear and pain before sharply putting all his weight down onto the foot pinning the bird. He felt the last of the bones crunch. He didn't feel anything else. Not guilt, not joy, not grief, not disgust, not sadness. Maybe frustration, but that was it. Frustration that it hadn't been something that deserved it. Someone who deserved it. 

Lost in his own disturbing, too loud thoughts, Day failed to notice footsteps until they were a few feet behind him. 

"So this is where little psychos come to play", A voice jeered. 

The familiarity of the tone was lost on him until he turned around. "Well if it isn't Assur and Asgrim", Daystar snarled back in his typical melodic yet bored tone. "I could say it's nice to see you, but it's not." These boys made a hobby out of tormenting him. 

Asgrim looked down to the red stain on Day's boot and the blood still dripping from the blade in his hand and subtly nudged Assur, who was the more assertive of the brothers. 

"Should've known a monster like you would be out in the woods torturing animals to death." Assur smirked like he was just proven right or had won a bet.

Asgrim huffed, "Yeah we all saw what you did with that Anklebiter a few years back!" He pointed aggressively at Daystar. "You ripped that dragon's guts out and were playing with the damn thing. Our parents say you're more of a monster than the dragons are." 

Daystar narrowed his eyes, tail swishing angrily. 

"And we all know what a good viking does to monsters". Assur unsheathed his sword. "And no one even knows that we're out here. Who would even care anyway? We all know your parents despise you just as much as we all do!" Both brothers laughed, a cacophonous racket that only small children could make. 

Good, Daystar thought. I've been itching for a good fight. Spilling their blood will be oh so sweet. Usually the village kids just beat him bloody or put him in peril some other way. Sometimes people saw, sometimes they didn't. They never helped. He'd learned that if he fought back, if he hurt someone or lost it someone would tell his father about it and he'd be punished at home too. But out here, in his wooded sanctuary, the only witnesses were the two pairs of eyes staring angrily at him. 

But Assur had a very good point. 

"You're right!" Daystar sang, cocking his head to one side, eyes open wide and mouth grinning wider. "No one knows we're out here". He threw his head back and chuckled in that stilting, choking way he did. It sounded the way a drowning hyena might. No one will see you die; I could even take my sweet time, he fantasized. 

He was interrupted by a slash from Assur's sword, leaving a small gash on Day's arm. Day dropped his gaze to the boys sharply. Assur had closed the distance between them and Asgrim stood behind and to the right of his brother, wielding a small mace; bodyguard position, Day remembered. Assur looked smug and determined for what he was about to do, but his hands were shaking. 

The sting of the cut on his arm drowned beneath the sensation of pounding in his head and chest. A shiver ran up and down Day's spine as energy flooded through every inch of him; it tingled, it burned, it made his fur stand on end. His teeth chattered, eyes fluttered, claws extended into his palms. In an instant what little humanity he had was gone, replaced by a cold, frenzied fury and the animal desire to kill. 

Day threw his knife between the two, forcing them to dodge to opposite sides, breaking their formation. Drive the pack apart. Single out the biggest threat. He threw another blade at Assur, purposely off a bit. The older boy predictably dodged, right into the second dagger Daystar had thrown. It embedded into his shoulder. Stunned by pain, Assur looked down and screamed. 

Daystar was knocked off his footing by a mace slamming into his side. Asgrim was younger, but stockier and heavier than Day and he held his weapon with a fiery determination Daystar had seen on himself when someone threatened Nightshade. Asgrim swung for him again; Day used his small stature and agility to dodge and weave between each arcing swing of the mace. Eventually Asgrim got a lucky hit; the hard blow flung Day back slightly and knocked his other knives out of his grip. He was dazed for a split second but that was enough for Asgrim to make a dumb mistake, a fatal mistake. He took his focus off of Day to look at Assur, making sure his brother was okay. 

Assur's face paled with horror. Behind his little brother, Daystar pounced and tore into Asgrim's back with his small claw-blades. Asgrim yowled horribly and tried to shake the feline off of him. Assur ran to help, body slamming Day with his uninjured shoulder. He tackled him to the ground, again making the smaller boy lose his grip on his blades. They slid out of his reach as Assur pounded at the boy's chest and face. He tried to cover his head with his hands, pinned as he was by a much larger Assur. 

In a moment of sadistic inspiration, Day grabbed the knife still lodged in Assur's shoulder and twisted it. Assur screamed bloody murder and loosened his grip just enough for Daystar to wiggle slightly. Day's green eyes glanced around for a weapon but found none within his short arm's reach. In another second Assur was back on him, fueled by adrenaline and wrapped his hands tightly around Day's neck. Frantic green eyes locked onto the only salvation in arm's reach, a stone the size of a man's fist with a sharp pointed peak and jagged edges. Day grabbed it and swung the makeshift weapon into Assur's skull. 

This turned the tide against the older boy and he tumbled off Daystar to the side. Day lunged upon him and kept bashing his head and face with the rock, nearly losing his grip on it with how much blood was slicking the surface. He was locked on his target and kept bashing his skull in despite being slashed at and stabbed several times. Day kept going until Assur was still and there was hardly enough above the neck to tell it had been Assur in the first place. 

"That's my brother!! I'll kill you!!" Day heard a shout and felt a crushing pain in his back. He whirled around to see Asgrim had regained his composure and tried to stop his brother's killer, not quite old enough or experienced enough to register there wasn't anything left to save. Now with a fresh target, Day turned on Asgrim, ignoring the pain in his back and the blood sprayed all over him. Asgrim tried to hit Day once more with the mace but he had closed the gap enough for it not to work; Asgrim simply did not have enough space between him and the raging Daystar to swing the weapon effectively. 

Day mostly finished his work with Asgrim using his claws and teeth. He'd lost himself in the rush of endorphins and glee of senseless violence. Every frustration he had came pouring out with the fury he destroyed Asgrim's body with. Asgrim had not given up quite yet and kicked Day in the chest; the blow to already damaged ribs forced him to stagger back a few paces, gasping with breath knocked out of him. 

Seeming to realize these were his dying moments Asgrim dragged himself over to Assur. It was slow going with his bloody arms and one clawed out eye, a wide smear of blood left in his path. Asgrim started crying, tears pouring from one eye and blood from the other empty socket. Neither he nor his brother would live to be teenagers. For a moment Asgrim wished Daystar had clawed out both eyes; then he wouldn't have to see his brother like this. What was left of Assur's face and head was a mess of red blood with little pieces of white bone poking through, jagged edges where they shouldn't be, flesh hanging on between bloody craters left by the rock that destroyed his skull. Little white pebbles dotted the lower half of the bloody mincemeat. Teeth, Asgrim realized; those were all that were left of his brother's smile. 

Daystar watched Asgrim cry in shock and gasp in pain with the same fascination he'd had with that little bird. Only this time it felt so much better. He picked up the blood-slick rock that had been the instrument of Assur's demise and stalked silently behind the remaining brother. Leaping onto Asgrim's shredded back again, Day crushed the back of his skull with the rock too, pounding him until he finally spasmed and went still under the smaller boy. 

Quiet at last. The forest was silent, not even the breeze carried any breath through the trees. Day sat back on his knees and took a deep shuddering breath. Day looked down at his hands, fur soaked in blood with small cuts from where bits of skull had sliced him as they shattered. Assur and Asgrim had come here looking for him, had made it clear they'd come to kill him. Instead, they'd both died by his hands. Outnumbered and outmatched, he'd lived while they died. They'd made his life miserable for years! And now they'd gotten what was coming to them. He smiled and laughed. It was a joyous, elated feeling to kill, to rip the lives away from those who made his miserable. The power was like crushing that innocent dove to death under his boot. It was thrilling!

He sat against a tree stump, eyes resting on the bloody mangled bodies of the two bullies. It'd be a pity to let good meat go to waste. And he was hungry, so, so hungry. His mother would be horrified. She had been horrified the first time he did it, just three years old when he bit the finger off another boy and chewed the savory digit like a piece of jerky. It was delicious then, it'd be delicious now. He started where he'd already bit Asgrim, tearing away chunks of flesh with sharp, twisting tugs, cutting free sinew with his knife. He slid the soft, wet meat into his mouth. Bloody, rich and vibrant in flavor, a nice marbling that made the meat chewier and almost buttery. The skin was more fibrous, sliding around in his mouth as his teeth poked holes in it. The small hairs tickled the roof of his mouth. He chewed the gummy skin, savoring the metallic and slightly salty tang before going back for more. The taboo only excited him more, making every bite sparkle with more flavor. It tasted somewhere in-between pork and veal, a subtle smoothness he just knew would be excellent stewed. It was a feast fit for a chief; Day savored every bite.  

Day tried to wipe the blood spray from his face, but with the lifeblood of two boys on his hands there was little he could do except smear it all over himself. He stared transfixed at the blood. It smelled so strongly of iron and warmth. He couldn't stop himself from licking some of it off his fingers. It was tangy and metallic and oh so tasty. He licked his fur with vigor, trying to clean the evidence with only his tongue. He paused for a second at a piece of what he assumed to be brain before licking that up too. It was soft in texture and seemed to melt its savory, mellow flavor into his mouth. Not bad at all, but there was no way he could clean all the mess off himself with just a tongue bath. No matter, there should be a small bay nearby. 

He gathered up his weapons and trekked through the forest until he reached the rocky inlet of the bay. He immersed himself, relishing in the feeling of cool water and the harsh sting of salt water in his wounds. Still high off the pleasure of taking two lives, he washed up and cleaned his weapons and still had enough energy to walk back to the clearing, taking a branch with him to wipe his footprints away behind him. 

What am I going to do now? If anyone finds out... Day shook his head, trying to clear the awful thoughts away. He didn't want to die. That's why he did what he did, right? Or was it for some perverse satisfaction, the need to feel in control? He closed his eyes and sighed, remembering how it had started. It seemed years ago Assur and Asgrim had interrupted his nice afternoon. In reality it had been less than an hour. 

I need to do something, Day mused. If someone stumbles upon them... What if no one ever finds them? That may be more suspicious than no bodies. Two young boys wouldn't survive long in the wilderness alone; there were wolves and bears and... boars. A plan began to come together in his mind. There's a den of boars around here somewhere. I remember dad didn't want to risk warriors to go exterminate them. Thank Thor for his cowardice, Day thought. Boars would eat anything, even each other. Reorienting himself, he remembered the boar den's direction and slowly dragged both bodies towards it. He left the older brother right next to a series of dens he assumed belonged to boars. He would have deposited the younger in the same spot except he was proven right about the boars, He couldn't risk interrupting their feeding frenzy as they chowed down on the fresh meat. He envied them for getting to devour the rest of the sweet meat. He rolled the other body down near the boars, inadvertently drawing their attention to him.

Instead of seeing two meals and the person that just fed them, the wild boar saw three tasty children one of whom still happened to be moving. Daystar ran away as fast as he could. The boars were faster and just when he thought he'd gotten away, one cut him off as they circled. Injured and still bleeding, Day swung around with his dagger, knowing that it wouldn't do shit against a boar's thick hide. A boar came at him and he feinted to the side, sliding past the boar and being grazed by its large tusks. He held his bleeding side and ran until another rammed him, knocking him down across the ground until his body skidded into the base of a large tree. Day picked himself up as quickly as he was able. He was completely surrounded, with a large gash in his side and scrapes all over. 

For a moment his short life flashed before his eyes as he pressed himself against the tree to keep away from the boars. Then his eyes lit up. A tree! Cats like him were always good climbers and he better than most. He judged the jump to the lowest thick branch. He thought he might be able to make it despite his injuries, then reminded himself he had to make it. For a brief moment he stared down the boars, wondering if this was how his victims had felt moments before their deaths. To these boars, he probably looked just like that wounded bird had looked to him. But he'd killed that bird and he'd killed those boys. He was tough and strong and he would make it! He jumped and hauled himself up onto the branch, hearing the pigs squeal around the base of the tree. He couldn't stay here; the boars would circle the tree for hours and he didn't feel like waiting that long. He climbed higher into the tree until he saw what he wanted. 

A thick branch of a nearby tree provided a good landing point for his second favorite activity, something he called tree surfing. He hopped from one strong branch to another, crossing over large swathes of the forest without touching the ground. The boars were none the wiser and kept circling the original tree after Daystar was long gone. 

After a long tree surfing session and quite a few splinters, Day ended up back at his little strand of trees. Using a branch, he quickly wiped away as much mess and footprints as he could, trying to mask the signs of a struggle there. If he had more time, he'd try to stage something more elaborate but it was already late in the day and the stench of blood and death would attract predators if it hadn't already. His eyes glanced across the mess he was trying to hide until he saw the blood-slick rock he'd murdered the two boys with. It was a trophy, an integral part of his story now. He'd be taking it home. After he was satisfied enough with covering his tracks, he limped his way back to the village. 

He rehearsed his story countless times before he got into the village proper. In a way, it was good that he'd been attacked by the boars. He stunk of pig and it made the rest of his injuries more believable. He was shaken out of his thoughts by someone grabbing his shoulders and questioning him. He sputtered out his rehearsed story in response to each question. 

"Where were you?" In the forest. 

"What happened?" Attacked by wild boar.

"Are you hurt?" Yeah, I think so.

"Was anyone else with you?" I heard screaming, but found the boars before the person.

"Why are you all wet?" Dunked in the bay to hide my scent from the boars.

And the question he dreaded, "Did you see my sons? I think they went into the woods?" No. I did hear screaming. I think someone else ran into the boars before I did.

"Could you tell who it was?" Maybe a woman, maybe a kid. Too high pitched to be a man.

Lying was easy and the adults assumed he was just in shock when he hesitated to think. Daystar was beginning to feel light-headed and sick to his stomach. He wondered if it was shock or if he might be feeling guilt for the first time. His arm stung, his side hurt, it hurt to breathe. Someone picked him up and took him to the village healer, but he couldn't remember who. He sat in the healer's hut for a few hours until his dad came to pick him up and take him home. Day didn't speak; it was better to look shell-shocked and let people think he was still in shock. Less questions that way. 

He listened with glee that night as his father told his mom that Assur and Asgrim had been found, torn apart by boars. His father wept for not having had the boars killed sooner. He smiled and wiggled happily in his blankets. He'd gotten away with it, for now at least. He thought about the thrill of their deaths. No one except him and the stone hidden under his bed would ever know the truth.

When he woke up in the morning and drank the medicine the healer gave him, he didn't feel sick anymore. Must have just been the shock, he thought. Still, I wonder if that's what guilt would feel like. 

A few days passed before Day was deemed well enough to hear the "full story" of how the boars had killed the two other boys in the forest that day. People continued to ask him questions; he answered along with his story, which had begun to feel so much like his truth he didn't even feel like he was lying anymore. The few times he felt like someone might be onto him or trying to pry too much, he'd just rub his head, go quiet and stare off into space blankly and tell them he couldn't remember very clearly.  He sold his version of events well, and everyone bought it. The few details that didn't line up were swept away by grief for the two dead boys and lack of evidence against the one 8-year old survivor, eventually ending up forgotten in a matter of months. 

People died all the time in viking villages, but Daystar would always perfectly and fondly remember the first two he killed. Sometimes he'd lie in bed awake thinking about the taste of their blood and fear and the power of killing them. Other times he'd daydream about who would be next and how he'd plan on getting away with it. He'd pull the small wooden chest out from under his bed and pull out the only member of his rock collection, whispering his secrets and intrusive thoughts to the instrument of his very first kills. Tracing his claws over the rough surface, he imagined he could still see brown flecks of dried blood on it's surface. He was still just a child, with favorite toys and a cute little sister and loose teeth and a deep dark secret he enjoyed keeping.

[charkyzombicorn]

Written for @botankirishima's immortal au!

Luffy was cackling like a loon, one hand on his straw hat keeping it from flying off and the other holding a dagger he had left on one island too long and it was put in a museum. Some people in pompous clothes were in the distance, yelling and chasing after him, but Luffy only laughed and kept his pace decently ahead of them.

When he saw his loyal sloop he broke into a full sprint, jumping to the ship, and had his anchor pulled up and boat kicked off just as the people began crowding the dock, all sweaty and yelling at him.

"It was mine first!" Luffy yelled, still laughing at the humans.

A few of them looked completely puzzled, while others had clearly ignored what he said. It didn't matter much to Luffy. Now he had his dagger back, he could prove to his older brother he was not, in fact, irresponsible. It's not his fault humans always ignored that his dagger had his name carved into the handle.

He let the wind drive him and the ocean carry him and sailed directionless, sure he'd find his brother again eventually. He always did.

--

It took six years, but he did find his brother again. Skulking around his half of the grand line like he tended to do more and more once he realized how boring the four blues can be. Luffy saw the ship that thoroughly dwarfed his sloop, and he drew his arm back before shooting it forward the hundred meters of distance. He pulled himself onto the large ship with a rubbery snap and broke his fall with someone else.

He looked up and saw an older version of a human he always liked. "Eddie!" He chirped, and the man went from blinking dumbly to smiling.

He grabbed Luffy by the back of the vest, pulling them both up to stand. "You're back! Cap'n was sure you'd be another decade."

"Well, he should know I'm not to be estimated." Luffy shot back.

"That he should." Eddie said with a chuckle, before his smile fell a little. "Listen - Captain's been acting a fool lately. Maybe stay on the ship a little while? Some family might help him get his head on straight."

Luffy's smile didn't falter. "Sounds like fun - I've seen you guys in the news lately, I better be allowed in on the action while I'm here." He teased, stretching his arm so he could still ruffle Eddie's hair like he did when he was a teenager. Eddie smiled and Luffy gave a mock-salute before marching to where he knew his brother was.

He kicked the door open and his brother was already facing him with a matching smile. "Luffy!"

Luffy was already running at him. "Xebec!" He jumped and his brother caught him in a hug.

"You found the dagger?" Xebec asked, nearly dropping Luffy from the hug. Luffy pulled the dagger from the hilt at his back and showed it off with a proud smile.

Xebec snatched it from him, studying it with wide eyes. He ran his finger along the side. "Now there's a sight…" He muttered.

Luffy only shrugged. "I've seen better."

"Not in this age, little brother." He said, still studying the intricacies of the blade, some warn smooth with time, but not dull. "You're sure it's real?"

"Course', Nika gave it to me." Luffy said simply.

Xebec laughed. "Oh, really?" He said with another smile taking over his face. In one swift move he grabbed Luffy's wrist and cut a neat slash in Luffy's arm, before letting go.

"Hey!" Luffy shot, pulling his arm away. "What was that for?!"

Xebec stared at Luffy with his wide smile for another second before he started laughing again. "Take it as a compliment, brother! You're built to withstand pain more than I, I just wanted to check if it was real." He said simply, glancing at the blood dripping sluggishly from Luffy's arm.

Luffy frowned. "I said it was! You know I've never been a liar."

"No no, not a liar, a fool maybe but not a liar."

"Oi."

Xebec burst out laughing again. Luffy started laughing with him.

Maybe it would be good to stay a while

[syncopein3d]

After the Battle

(whump oneshot, f/caretaker m/whumpee)

The knight was unhorsed long since, his lance broken, his sword dull. When the last of his foes fell, he had ranged far from the field of battle, surrounded by looming oaks. He withdrew his blade from the body with difficulty. He had to kneel. An arrow stood from his cuirass in front. It had reached something important below his heart on the left. He knew not what, but his head was light and his legs were heavy, and he had noticed that the pain was beginning to feel dull and strange. There were other wounds. He felt bruises from maces, the agony in the right part of his chest was possibly a cracked rib, and a little hole in his side stung where a dagger had found him, but he knew it was not these that would kill him.

He had to lean on a tree to climb to his feet, looking around. There were dead men wearing the colors of both armies, dead horses, but the only things living were the crows and ravens. Night was falling, too cold for many flies at this time of year. Darkness would bring the killing frost. The knight turned slowly, trying to decide which way to go. He wanted his brothers in arms to have his armor, his weapons, to bury him and speak the rites of his gods. But he could not now tell which way he'd come from. The setting sun was so diffused by the shade that it was little help.

He took up a broken lance from beside a dead horse and put his back to where he thought the dying light was. His vision was spotty now, making it harder to tell. At least it was a direction. He did not want to spend his last moments quietly waiting. He limped grimly onward, leaning on the half-lance.

There were strange whispers in the wood. As it grew darker they grew louder. The knight stopped, swaying, trying to decide if this was real. His legs were numb now, and when he tried to walk again things went away for a moment entirely, spots crowding out his vision. When it cleared he was on his knees.

A cool hand rested on the back of his neck. He went to reach for his sword, but someone whispered words in a tongue unknown to him, and suddenly he couldn't move. A warm, effervescent feeling blossomed in his spine, traveling up and down. Long nails gently scratched the back of his head. Where was his helm? He didn't remember removing it.

"Easy, now," said a woman's voice softly. It was husky and sweet, hard to narrow as to age. "Your wounds are dire. I can save you, but I will need you still. I know what your kind thinks of mine."

He was falling backwards, unable to stop himself. The witch - for it must be a witch - lowered him, pulled his legs out straight. She moved around him as a dark blur, robed, a smear of gray against the browns and greens. The pain was fading. Not just the pain of the arrow, but of cuts and bruises and his aching ribs, smoothing gently away into warmth and tingling.

"Gods accept... My soul..." His eyes were closing in spite of himself. He felt so very light now. Floating.

"Perhaps one day," said a voice that seemed far off. The long nails scraped lightly through his hair. "But for now, you will sleep. Sleep, Sir Knight."

He tried to speak, but only a sigh passed his lips. Clear thought was no longer possible, and without it there was no ability to resist. He slid gently and easily into a deep, deep sleep.

The witch watched the lines of his face relax. Then she bent to the straps of the cuirass. Getting the arrow out of his liver would not be easy, but at least he would feel no pain.

[harwood-pmc-official]

Ghosts - Pt. 1

When Robert awoke, the first thing he noticed was the pounding in his head. The second thing he noticed was the pain.

He had bailed out of his jet. He knew this for a fact, because he could feel the bite of the harness around him, could feel the familiar squeeze of the seat despite currently being on the ground, in the middle of a warzone.

As he looked around himself, the surrounding area resolved into greater focus, the ringing in his ears dulling slightly as the spots cleared from his vision. He was in a city of some kind, one that had obviously seen a lot of shelling very recently.

Coen City, his mind supplied to no avail, his thoughts barely intelligible over the pounding ache.

Wherever he was, he needed to move. No doubt the Capellans would be along shortly, looking for the downed pilot. With practiced hands, he grabbed for the SERE kit under his seat, finding the familiar cylinder waiting for him.

Kit in hand, he began to unbuckle his harness, clumsy fingers struggling to work the clasps as the pounding in his head grew with. However, before long, he was free, pulling himself from the seat with a groan of pain.

Quiet as he could, he moved into cover, crouching in the shadows of an alley nearby. Once he was sure he hadn't been found, he opened the SERE kit, removing its contents and placing them neatly beside him. Four ration bars? Check. A week's worth of hydration pills? Check. Water purification tablets? Check. Army standard signal beacon? Useless, but still there.

Internally, he seethed at the reminder that command wasn't coming back, that there was no backup or salvation coming, in this life or the next. However, before he could dwell on it, he came to the true reason he'd grabbed the kit. In the kit, set into a carved foam inlay in the canister, was the Taurian fighting man’s weapon of choice: The FS-59 pattern fighting knife.

Having inventoried the contents of the canister, he tucked the supplies into the various pouches arranged across his flight suit, before gripping the knife and heading out into the ruined streets.

In less than five minutes, he encountered his first patrol, hauling ass towards the scene of thr crashed aerospace craft.

There were two of them, moving fast down the street. They wore strange uniforms, but then again, Robert couldn't be expected to remember the uniforms for every unit in the Capellan army. Whoever they were, they weren't on his side, so they needed to go.

As fortune would have it, they slowed down to a stop nearby, one stopping to look at a wrist-mounted device, seemingly a screen of some kind, and speaking to the other.

"The map says this way. C'mon, they'll chew our asses if we don't have good response time on this one."

Despite his three years in Capellan space, he'd never learned to speak a word of the language, so as the two spoke, he merely crept closer, gripping the knife with adrennaline-white knuckles as he drew close to the second man, now looking at the surrounding buildings as if to orient himself by distinguishing one pile of rubble from another.

"Are you sure it's that way? I remember there being a dead end dow-"

The man's response was cut short, as Robert's hand silenced him, an instant before the knife severed his brain stem, sending the man to the ground in a heap. Robert withdrew the knife from the soldier's neck, before taking aim and hurling the blade at the second man, lodging it in the man's shoulder with a scream.

Robert bull-rushed the man, tackling him to the ground with all 240 pounds of his frame, sending them both crashing to the pavement. As they wrestled on the ground, Robert reared back a punch, aiming to disorient the man long enough to reclaim his knife. However, he found the arm stopped, deflected aside and slamming into the ground with enough force to crack the pavement.

However, despite this, the man was still screaming, the sickening crack of a broken arm ringing out through the once-quiet area as Robert yanked his knife free of the man's shoulder.

What the hell, wondered Robert. I'm strong, but not that strong.

However, before he could focus on that confusion, he needed to finish the enemy. With an overhead slam, he brought the knife down into the enemy's chest, the tip stopping mere centimeters from the man's armor, as his arms caught the blade.

Robert pressed his bodyweight down into the blade, feeling the Capellan's block weaken as he pushed. Carefully, he removed his hand from the knife's pommel, slamming it downwards and into the man's chest.

As his opponent gurgled weakly, Robert sat back, resting against a slab of concrete as he caught his breath. However, before he could get too comfortable, a voice he never expected to hear again spoke from just above him.

"Hey Tailspin," said Tomas. "Working up a sweat, are we?"

[pure-garbage]

Forbidden Fantasy... A Daydream Or Derangement?

Chapter Warnings: Smut! Minors DNI

Zoro lounged on the deck of the Merry, swords at his right side as always, Lana laid out at his left. Her left arm was folded up, cushioning her head, her right draped laxly over Zoro's left thigh while she dozed. New lovers never complain over opportunities to admire their partners and Zoro was no exception to this rule. His eyes took their time sweeping over her relaxed form. Everything about her posture was open, her sleeping body drinking in the sun that slowly dried the sweat collecting on her skin, even as its heat drew more moisture to the surface in its place.

Her hair fanned out magnificently around her head and her eyelashes swept against her cheeks, feather-like. The slow, steady rise and fall of her chest was enough to make his breath hike. The exposed skin of her collar was shimmering in places, dried salt crysals catching the sun's light with a subtle resplendence that made him want to run his tongue along the hollows of her neck. He licked his lips instead and restrained himself. He wouldn't interrupt her peace.

The hem of Lana's yellow shirt was pulled up a little on the right, baring supple skin and the curve of her body, a line that slipped away to hide shyly under her billowy lavender skirt. Zoro knew where that line led. He'd been there, if only as a visitor. He didn't allow his gaze to linger, but her skirt was askance as well, bunched up and hiked high enough that her thigh was laid bare.

'She wouldn't want to be so exposed.'

He reached down to right her skirt, but she shifted when he touched her, legs parting even further as she sighed in her sleep. He drew back, not wanting to wake her. He settled down, one hand on Kietetsu's hilt, his other tracing lazy patterns along the skin of her right arm.

As his fingers moved in tandem on Lana and Kietetsu, an image popped into his head unbidden.

Zoro imagined unsheathing the mischievous blade, hearing its hum as it tasted the fresh, salty air. His breathing sped up as he imagined reaching for Lana's ankle with its tip.

'I could do it without cutting her... I could...'

In his minds eye, he drew the blade up the curve of her leg, the heat from her body warming the steel as his smooth, uninterrupted stroke travelled higher. Kietetsu liked the warmth too, silently voicing its approval with a naughty gleam.

Lana would stir as he reached her thigh. Zoro's cheeks flushed deep scarlet as he imagined lifting her skirt higher, higher still...

In his fantasy, Lana woke, but did nothing to stop him. Her right hand gripped his thigh as she parted her legs wider in provocative invitation.

"Zoro... keep going," she sighed, tone brimming with a mischief that rivaled Kietetsu's. She stayed perfectly still as he neared the apex of her thighs, allowing him free reign over her body. The Lana of his hedonic daydream wasn't wearing panties, so there was nothing to stop him from slipping the dull back of the blade carefully between her soft lips.

She rewarded him with a quiet moan, biting her lip as she forced herself to stay still. She was smart enough to know that remaining motionless was crucial to her safety as he stroked her slick heat with his most capricious sword. Her fingers would dig harder into his thigh as he aroused her more and more. Could he afford to palm her breasts while he slid Kietetsu through her juices? No, he needed absolute focus. She would kill him if he made a mistake.

In reality, Zoro grit his teeth, one hand tightening around Lana's wrist while the other gripped Kietetsu's handle crushingly.

Lana's imagined cries rang through his occupied head, her conjured voice begging him for more.

"Inside... want him inside," she rasped, prompting Zoro to take the blade from her flesh. He adjusted his grip on the sword, flipping it as he gathered her legs with his left arm. He swiped his tongue down the length of the blade with care, shivering at the taste of her mixing with steel and the chemical taste of solvent. It wasn't strictly a pleasant taste, but it was tantalizing and somehow left him wanting more.

Zoro pulled her into his lap as her breathing became frenzied with anticipation. His hardness pressed demandingly into her ass, but he ignored it and brought the cap of Kietetsu's handle to her soaked entrance. She gasped and whimpered in pleasure as he pushed it in, watching in a trance as she stretched to take what he gave her.

"Z-Zoro! Mm, feels good! Th-thank you!"

"Thank Kietetsu," Zoro instructed breathlessly, head swimming with desire as he pushed the sword's handle in halfway and drew it out again, setting a long, languid pace with his strokes. His arousal throbbed, his desire becoming more urgent as he pleasured her with what should, by all rights, have been nothing but an instrument of death. The illicit nature of the act was a defilement to the sanctity of the blade, as well as to Lana's body, but that knowledge only excited Zoro further, riled him up beyond the reach of reason as he tried to push Kietetsu even deeper inside of her.

"Thank you Kietetsu," Lana purred compliantly. She would do whatever he told her, even address a weapon as if it could hear her while she pulsed and gripped its hilt, slick and dripping around the leather and enamel. "Oh, thank you! You fill me up so good..."

Zoro groaned, the unbearable heat and pressure of his erection interrupting his self-indulgent fantasizing. At his side, Lana still dozed peacefully, sweet as an angel and oblivious to her lover's deranged daydream. It pained him to leave her, but he rose regardless, striding away in search of a dark corner where he could take care of the problem he'd created for himself.

"Lana can never, ever know about this," he vowed aloud vehemently.

At his side, Kietetsu seemed to sigh with cold disappointment.

___________________________________________

<== Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ==>

== First Chapter ==

[henrys-wee-hen]

No-one Fucks With The Lobos - Chapter 11

A short one this time, since I'm dog-tired and low on time!

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48070186/chapters/122056828

Or read under the cut :) Enjoy!

Teddy dropped the console controller, the air tense around us. My hand shook a little with the knife.   

“(Y/N),” he murmured. “Think about what you’re about to fucking do…”   

“I asked you a fucking question, Teddy,” I murmured. “Why shouldn’t I kill you right now, like you tried to kill me?” I pressed the knife a little harder. Teddy leaned back. I could feel his fear.   

“I didn’t try to fucking kill you,” he breathed. He was afraid. “(Y/N), put the fucking knife down… we can talk about it. Let’s talk about it.”   

“Talk about it?!” I ran my hand through his hair, taking a fistful of it so I could brace myself better with the knife. “You nearly fucking killed me, Teddy! What could we possibly have to talk about?!”  

“I went too far,” he said calmly. “I know I went too fucking far – just – let me explain –“   

I held the knife so tightly against his throat, one movement from him would have opened an artery. He knew. He remained stock-still, and I felt the power I held over him.   

“Go on.”  

“I – I saw red. I saw red – you fucking – when you threw it back in my face, and – and the – you know, the fucking – the Mason brothers – those assholes who came in and –“ He swallowed again, whimpering. “(Y/N), relax your fucking grip!” his voice was a yelp.   

“Scared, Teddy-bear?” I asked softly. “Fearing for your life?”   

“A little bit.”   

“Hmm. Then I’m not making myself fucking clear enough.” In a movement so fluid, it stunned even me, I pulled the knife away and stabbed it into the sofa beside him. I intended to miss. I wasn’t him. I was better. Teddy screamed, cringing away. I pulled the knife out and returned my grip to his head. This time, I pressed the dull side of the blade to his throat. He didn’t know.   

“A LOT A BIT!” Teddy held his hands up, still. “A lot – look, (Y/N), please –“  

“My fucking life, Teddy. I remember everything, now. The lead up… when I asked you to give something up for me, and you said no… and then flipping out… you nearly fucking killed me, Teddy. I’m done. I’m so fucking done! I never wanted any of this – and I still don’t fucking know what you want from me!”   

“I WENT TOO FUCKING FAR!” Teddy yelled, trying to lean back further. “I went too fucking far and I lost my shit because you threw what those motherfucking pricks did to you right back in my face -”  

“AND?!”  

“AND THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT MY MOM DID WHEN MY DAD DIED!”  

I froze.  

I remembered the night the Mason brothers had destroyed whatever bit of trust I’d had in... well, whatever I’d been trusting in ... I had thrown it back at him. Even though he’d killed them for me, I’d wanted to hurt him. And I’d succeeded... and it had led to this mess. But I hadn’t ever dreamed that I’d hurt him that deeply. Was his reaction a gross overreaction? Sure. Weeks in the ICU and the regular hospital wasn’t remotely necessary for what I'd said to him. Maybe he could have screamed at me. He could have even hit me, and I’d have taken that. But what actually happened? No. Too far.  

“And you think almost killing me was the right thing to do in retaliation?”  

“You reminded me of my mom,” Teddy said softly. “And I hated it. I saw red, (Y/N). I saw red and I’m fucking sorry.”  

There was a moment of tense silence. I used to be able to read Teddy, to know when he was going to flip out and hurt me. But now, I didn’t know. Holding a knife to his throat, I had the upper hand... but my confidence was already slipping with the fatigue of being upright for the first time in a long time. I was exhausted... and the emotional toll of this on that same confidence was draining me, too. I didn’t know what Teddy would do when he realised I wouldn’t be able to do shit to him. But I didn’t care anymore. He'd tried to kill me so many times, it was getting tiring. I wanted him to just do it, now.  

“Put the knife down, baby... please... (Y/N), baby? Can I take this off of you, or no?” he put his shaking, clammy hand on mine, trying to find the handle. I pressed it harder into his throat. “No! No, alright, baby...”  

“What are you going to do?” I asked softly. What are you going to do to me when you realise I’m not capable of killing you? Teddy swallowed.  

“Talk,” Teddy whispered. “Fucking talk to you. With you.” I sniffed. My arms were dead. I didn’t want to give up the one bit of control I actually had. I didn’t want to be at his fucking mercy again... but I didn’t have any choice. I had to let him go. I was exhausted.  

I dropped the knife, and Teddy was over the back of the sofa, kicking the knife away, holding me as I sat on the floor. He held me, and I leaned against him. I felt something wet hit my arm. A single teardrop. The shaky intake of breath confirmed it. He was crying again.  

“You’re crying?” I asked. Teddy held me a little tighter. I was spent fully, now.  

“What are you gonna fucking do?” he whispered. I wriggled a little. He let me. I looked at him, turning in his arms. He turned his face away from me, almost like he was ashamed of crying. He was ashamed of crying. But a choice between letting me go and wiping his face? He kept his arms firmly around me.  

“I don’t want to be here anymore, Teddy,” I said softly. “I would have said sorry for what I’d said, but after you nearly killed me, I’m not remotely sorry for what I said.” I sniffed. “You’re a monster, Teddy Lobo. And... and you almost turned me into a monster. I don’t know how to move past that.” I pushed away from him, leaning against the sofa by myself. Teddy looked at me side-eye.  

“I am a monster. I know.” He closed his eyes. “And I fucked up. I know I’m a fucking monster, (Y/N). And I know I’ve got issues...”  

“Apparently with your mom.” I looked at him. “And you projected that onto me, I guess.” Teddy ran a hand over his face. “Which... Teddy, that can’t happen again. So much is wrong with this. You kidnapped me, under the pretence that you wanted me to take the knee and let you pay me to shut up. And then you wanted me to make Rebecca fucking Quincy do the same thing. And then you changed. And then it felt like you wanted me for me , but didn’t know how to get me... and then it changed again. It felt like you were into me... and then this...” I gestured to myself. “So, I want you to be honest with me, Teddy. Right now. On the fucking floor, I want you to tell me exactly what thoughts are going through your fucking head. And if you really can’t trust me that I’ll keep it here, I want you to slit my fucking throat and stick me in the river.”  

There was a moment of silence. Teddy stared at a spot on the wall. He was sat there, leaning back, his arms resting against his bent knees. Once again, casual-clothes Teddy threw me. The idea that his slick little criminal would reach into his wardrobe in the morning and pull out a plain black t-shirt and a pair of bordeaux-coloured sweatpants... it got me. He was human. Human needs, human emotions... human experiences. Wants, desires, needs.  

I remembered the day he’d given me breakfast with him, and I’d salivated when I’d discovered he liked berries. It was obvious he liked the colour red, too – not a garish bright red, but a muted, almost blood red.  

My emotions were all over the fucking place. I wanted to go back to the days when I’d see that orange Challenger on the street, and immediately knew I hated the owner.  

But then... as Teddy figured out what he wanted to say, I thought about those car keys. He owned a car. He had papers, a licence, normal shit that people who owned cars had. He’d gone to a dealer, and he’d picked out a car, and had the decals created... I found my addled little mind drifting along a little path of Teddy being in the dealer and driving that car away, a stupid little grin on his face. And once again, there I was, sitting in the passenger seat with him, sharing that moment.  

What the everloving fuck was wrong with me?!  

And, whiplash, it occurred to me that he hadn’t once tried to fuck me. He hadn’t tried to do anything like that, and I realised I hadn’t said I wanted it. In fact, he’d always stopped us. The moment that consent wasn’t clear, or he wasn’t sure if my head was fully in it... he’d stopped us. And I thought of the times he’d battled with his body. All the times he could have done something to really break me.  

Because that would have broken me. If he’d turned me into a glorified punching-bag sex toy. That would have had me begging for death or on my knees swearing to look the other way. Hell, I’d have taken another beat, another position in another fucking department, if he’d done that to me. But he hadn’t. I knew he hadn’t.  

Fuck...  

The day we’d been in the tub...  

That had been fucking real!!!  

I felt the breath hitch in my throat. Teddy looked at me. He ran a hand over his face, and he sniffed, composing himself, as though he really didn’t want to say the words he was about to say. In that split second, I imagined the trauma-dump about his mother’s reluctance to love him. I imagined pain, still, from his father’s death. I imagined the pressure of being his father’s replacement in an empire that his mother had taken between her teeth and refused to let go of. His mother, who’d remained stoic in the face of grief... Teddy had had to be as strong, if not stronger. Teddy had battles on all fronts... I expected him to dump it all on me. Reason after reason for why he’d hurt me so much. Excuses and reasons and all of it.  

He licked his lips, like he was about to choke. He looked down briefly, and then back at me. Forcing himself to look at me. To look at me in the eyes. Even if it was the hardest thing he was apparently going to do. So much harder than slicing me up, or hurting me, or beating me...  

“I’m completely... fucking in love with you, (Y/N).”  

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 - Aemond Targaryen

FINE. FINE. Fuck sake, fine. Jeezus christ, y'all are like rabid dogs😂 Alright, this is the only time I'll give in to peer pressure lmao. I tried to make this just as fucked up as the last one so here ya go. Please mind the warnings.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), NONCON, Dark!Aemond, incest, painful loss of virginity, sadism, humiliation, breeding kink, violence, slapping, choking, bad bad Aemond

word count | 3.2K🤙🏻

part one | part three

Pain; the first feeling you felt when you woke up. And wind, strong wind. The smell of rain...and dragon.

Your vision was hazy, the left side completely black, void, empty. You could barely see your surroundings. You could sense the clouds passing by, flying through them. You could see a large wingspan on a dragon, so it certainly wasn't yours. What was going on?

Then you heard him, his laugh, and it all came flooding back to you so hard a migraine shot through your skull. You groaned, attempting to reach your hand to your head, only to find it restrained. You tried to speak, but you were quickly shushed. "It's okay, niece, we're almost home." Home...Dragonstone? But before you could ask, you blacked out once again.

Aemond couldn't wait to get you all to himself. After your lovely performance at Storm's End, he decided he couldn't restrain himself any longer. Ever since seeing how you grew up into a fine lady, he decided he had to have you.

Before he would've killed you without hesitation, you were just a bastard after all, would be of little consequence. But he always wanted that moment to be special, in battle perhaps? He thought over and over how he'd do it. He would take both your eyes first, cutting off your head and presenting it to his family on a silver platter, and making your eyes into gifts for his mother. But now, he had much greater plans for you. All that was left was for you to finally wake up.

Aemond perked up immediately after hearing you stir in your sleep, the size of his bed making you look almost as small as a child. Though you, you had no recollection of how you managed to be where you were. It wasn't your bed, your room, it didn't even look like anywhere in Dragonstone. The smell was entirely different as well, you couldn't smell the sea anymore. That pain in your skull was still there, it hadn't dimmed since when you felt it. You wondered if it would ever go away.

The room was warm, a lit fireplace coating the area with orange and yellow hues, only accentuating the already golden walls. Then you finally recognized it, that faint metallic smell mixed with wine and musk. You were in King's Landing.

You tried to sit up in the bed you were in, only for a sharp piercing pain to shoot through your entire body and force you to lay still. The throbbing in your head was almost unbearable, you could hear the thumping in your ears, so loud you almost didn't notice the sound of a chair moving closer to you.

Tears came to your eye as soon as you saw your uncle sitting across from you, a smug smirk on his face as he looked over your weak form. "The worst of it only lasts for about three days. The pain started to dull after that."

You frowned, your throat tightening and trying to keep in a sob threatening to escape. "I did what you wanted, uncle. I gave you an eye. I paid my debt, so why am I here?"

Aemond chuckled darkly. "Yes. Yes, you did. But you owed that debt ever since you took your blade to my eye all those years ago, that was just between us. We're at war now, who would I be if I just allowed a traitor to try and take my brother's throne? You're lucky my brother, the King, didn't execute you as soon as I brought you here. It's what you would've deserved."

You felt an all consuming anger fill you, if you had the strength you would have taken your uncle's remaining eye. "I'm not the one who's a traitor. Prince Aegon is the one who usurped the throne. My mother, the Queen, will have each and every one of your family's heads for this treachery."

"Hmm." He smiled. "We shall see. Until then, you remain our hostage. Let's see how much your mother cares about you more than the throne."

A week. It had been a week of playing hostage for the Greens, no sign of your mother coming to rescue you. No sign of hope. You really should've just left Storm's End as soon as you saw that Aemond was there too, now you were at his mercy. You were treated as though he had brought a stray home, only able to keep it if he was the one to take care of it. It was dehumanizing, you just hoped your dragon was treated better than you.

You could never get a read on Aemond, not even when he was a child. You felt like you were chained to a rabid animal, not knowing if or when he was going to lash out. You felt his anger just beneath the surface of his otherwise calm and collected exterior, only seeing glimpses of what you could be exposed to whenever you talked back to him disrespectfully, his eye lighting up with malice and eagerness that he never expressed but it always chilled you to the bone to see it. It was the same look he gave you when you allowed him to take your eye, a dangerous playfulness that you would never want to explore.

One silver lining was that your uncle was right, the pain from your lost eye dimmed slightly. There were now times in your day when you felt like you wouldn't throw up from the pain anymore. You had your own living quarters, albeit with a many number of locks and bars on the door so you wouldn't escape, like you even could in your state.

It was always a roulette game whenever it came to if Aemond would visit you or not. If not the servants, he would be the one to bring you food. Sometimes he'd just show up unannounced and you were left wondering if it was finally time to die at his hands. You were constantly on edge, almost wishing you could go ahead and die already. Put an end to your suffering and your mother's hesitance on what she should do about you. You just wanted some pin to drop, you hated waiting and wondering what would happen, hated being afraid.

If you appreciated irony in awful situations, you would've thought the gods finally answered your prayers. It was night and you were restless, looking out at King's Landing on your balcony. You longed for your home, you missed your brothers, you missed your mother, you missed riding your dragon. You could faintly hear the calls of your dragon all the way from the Dragonpit, sad mewls that told you he felt the same.

"My brother says if your dragon doesn't quiet down he'll cut off his head and serve it to you."

You scowled as you heard Aemond's voice from behind you, the wind flowing through the tower not able to ever give you chills the way his voice managed to. "Then he'd be a dragon slayer as well as a usurper." You snarked, your knuckles turning pale as you gripped the balcony ledge tightly.

Your body froze as you suddenly felt warmth from behind you, trying to not let a shudder run through you as you felt Aemond's breath on your neck. "You surely are disrespectful for someone who's supposed to be our hostage." He voiced lowly, his tone making you dig your nails into your palms.

"I believe I have every right to be disrespectful to the cunts who kidnapped me." You smirked briefly as you thought how Daemon would be proud of you for saying that, but that smirk quickly got wiped off your face as your uncle turned you around harshly to force you to face him.

"Do you have a death wish, girl?" He seethed, one of his hands coming to gently grip your throat.

"Yes, kill me, uncle. That's what you've always wanted, right? My eye wasn't enough for you, was it? So, do it. Throw me off this tower, feed me to Vhagar, whatever you want. Just let me go. Let the war wage on so my family can kill yours." You spat in his face, just below his remaining eye.

He slowly wiped away the spit, his lips upturned in a sneer, staring down at you like he was actually considering it. You were almost shocked he didn't kill you right then and there, but what did was when he swiftly leaned forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You instantly pushed him away and landed a punch to his jaw, causing him to stumble back with a dark smirk. "No, I wouldn't kill you. Not yet, not until I've had my fun with you."

You didn't understand his meaning, thinking you must've knocked the sense out of hum, until he grabbed you roughly by your wrists, dragging you inside and throwing you on your bed. You tried to scurry away, but he grabbed your leg and yanked you back to him. "No, Aemond, stop-!" You shouted angrily, trying to kick at him, but he was too strong to get away from.

He chuckled, only amused by your resistance. "I've waited so long, I've been patient. Well, I'm finally exhausted of this game, dear niece. I'm going to fuck you, maybe you'll learn to respect me, respect all of us after I'm done with you."

Your eyes widened, your fight or flight instinct kicking in. You tried to flee, but that didn't work, so now you had to fight.

Aemond let out a pained grunt as you kicked him as hard as you could in his stomach, allowing a gap long enough to run to your doors, only to find them locked. "Help!" You screeched as you pound your fists on the wood, hoping and praying that someone would hear you. You screamed as Aemond grabbed you, dragging you back to your bed.

"Okay, that's enough of that." He spoke emotionlessly. You kept trying to fight him, only stopping when you suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot through your skull. He had slapped you, on your left side where your wound was still healing. It made everything turn dark for a brief moment, the ringing in your ears so loud you couldn't hear anything.

The world around you was blurry, the ringing subsiding enough that you could hear the fabric of your nightgown ripping down the center, exposing you to your uncle's view. You watched helplessly as he started to shed his clothing eagerly, his eye memorizing every curve and detail on your body. You started to cry as his cock sprung out of the confines of his trousers, the size only scaring you into thinking that it was going to split you in half. "Aemond...uncle, please." You begged, closing your legs as tightly as you could and covering your chest with your arms.

Aemond only smiled, easily kicking your legs apart and situating himself between them.

"Please, don't. I've never been with anyone, please."

"Oh, I know it, sweet niece. That's why I want to do this now, while you're still pure. Aegon has made his jokes about being the one to take your maidenhead, but I just couldn't have that. You're mine to claim, only mine." You gagged as he thrust his fingers into your mouth, trying to turn your head away. "Spit. Do it, or do you want your first time to be as painful as possible?" You finally relented, coating his fingers with your saliva, watching him bring it down to lube up his cock and your cunt, letting out a whimper as he lined himself up with your entrance.

You let out a loud sob as Aemond pushed into you, filling you to the hilt. The stretch was so painful, you felt like you were going to die. You couldn't imagine why anyone would enjoy something like this. "It hurts, Aemond." You whimpered, trying to push him off you but he wouldn't budge, his cock stayed firmly settled inside you and you wondered if the pain would ever go away.

Aemond let out a groan as your walls clenched around him, watching with an amused smirk as you so desperately tried to expel the painful intrusion. "So tight. You feel better than I could've possibly imagined, sweet niece." You cried out once again as Aemond started to move, pulling back out just to ram himself back in again. You whined out his name, but that only seemed to spur him on further. "This will go a lot easier if you just give in." He took your arms and pinned them into the bed on either side of your head, showing no semblance of mercy as he started to thrust into you.

"Uncle, stop-!" You sobbed, trying to thrash about and fight him as much as you could, feeling your tears fall on one side of your face as the ache in your core reverberated throughout your whole body, a migraine in your head making no sign that it would go away soon.

You flinched as you felt Aemond's warm, wet tongue lick up the side of your face, capturing your tears with a satisfied him. "Are those tears of pleasure or pain, sweetling?" He chuckled sadistically.

"Fuck you!" You screamed, headbutting him and immediately coming to regret it as more pain shot through your head, your vision going blotchy and dark again. Then you kept feeling shocks of pain, again and again as Aemond slapped you, until you felt hot thick liquid travel down the left side of your face. Your bandages were removed and you could feel Aemond's breath on your throbbing wound. You cried loudly as you felt his fingers run around your empty socket, the pain unbearable.

"Why must you make this so difficult for yourself, hm?" Aemond then brought his fingers to your mouth, forcing you to taste the coppery substance as he fucked into you harder, the sounds of your cries and his moans filling the room. "Gods, your cunt feels so heavenly. I never should've waited this long, wouldn't you agree?" He asked, knowing he'd never get an answer.

You were so out of it, the pain subsided slightly only for you to wish you could only feel the pain as you started to cry out from pleasure. You didn't want to feel good, you didn't want to give your uncle the satisfaction, but your body was betraying you. You no longer felt the pain of the stretch in your cunt, you now only felt how Aemond's cockhead kept hitting a place inside you that made your toes curl and your back arch.

Soon enough, the room started to be filled with the sounds of your intimate union. Wet, slapping sounds coming from where Aemond's cock met your cunt, your slick starting to coat your inner thighs and his pelvis. "So wet, dear niece? I always knew you were a whore just like your traitorous mother. Fucks, feels so good." He moaned, leaning down to kiss up your jaw, trailing over every bit of skin until he reached your wound. "Perhaps, if you survive this whole ordeal, we can get you a jewel to replace your eye? Whatever you desire; although, I would prefer to see you with a sapphire."

Just the thought of being forced to match your uncle made you cringe. You never wanted to be anything like him, but it was already too late for that.

The lewd sounds that your body was making, along with Aemond's deep groans made shocks of pleasure shoot through you, much more agreeable than the pain you had only been feeling up to this point. It frightened you how it just kept building and building, like you would explode if it never stopped. But you didn't want it to end, you wanted to chase that feeling to see where it led. You threw your head back against the mattress as Aemond started to lick and nip at your nipples, hardening from the pleasure of his cock. "Finally enjoying yourself, sweet niece?" He growled, biting the skin at the juncture of your neck roughly, causing you to wince but it oddly enough made the pleasure that much more intense.

"Please..." You begged, but you didn't know for what. You wanted him to stop, but you needed him to keep going. "Oh, gods." You moaned, writhing beneath him as he started to play with your clit, soon feeling an overwhelming euphoria wash over you, making you completely forget about the pain.

"Come on, princess. Let go for me." Aemond urged, pinching your clit and thrusting into you as hard as he could until you were spasming beneath him, your legs shaking and high pitched whines escaping your lips. "That's it, that's it." He cooed, kissing all over your face until you came down from your high. "See? All you had to do was relax, don't you feel so much better?" He smiled softly.

Your tears of embarrassment and shame kept rolling down your face as Aemond continued to chase his own high, sitting up on his knees and digging his fingers into your love handles for purchase. If you weren't so pissed off, you would have thought he looked angelic with his silvery hair sticking to his face and his body shining with sweat, but you knew better. He was no angel. He was a dragon, and dragons always took what they wanted with no care or concern for others. You were just another one of his conquests.

He kept using and using you, violently chasing his own peak of pleasure until you were whining with overstimulation. "Fuck, I'm gonna come soon. You want my cum, bastard?" He growled. "Want me to sire you a bastard as well?" He chuckled darkly as you shook your head weakly. "If you think this is the only time I'll be fucking this sweet cunt, you'd be sorely mistaken, niece. I'm going to keep you in this bed, all day and all night. You're going to be swollen with my child eventually, that or you're barren. But we can't have that, can we? Your whore mother might be okay with having bastards, damaging the Targaryen name, but I'm not. I'll have my mother agree to marry us. Maybe that will stop this tedious war on both sides."

You did not like the sound of that. No matter how out of it you were, you'd never agree to marry your sadistic uncle. But he talked like it wasn't up for discussion. "Stop, please." You whined, limp in his arms and unable to fight anymore.

Aemond growled, leaning down to wrap one of his hands around your throat, squeezing until your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you could feel your hammering pulse against his skin. "Mine. All mine." He groaned as his cock twitched inside you, his thrusts becoming uncoordinated and erratic until he suddenly stilled. An uncharacteristic whimpery moan escaped his lips as his seed filled you, his face contorting in an expression of pure bliss that made your insides clench despite yourself.

You finally felt like you could catch your breath as Aemond pulled out, flopping down beside you elegantly, a content smirk on his lips as he glanced at your numb, tearstained face. "Don't warry, niece, it only gets better from here. I suggest you learn to accept it, because I am never—never letting you go."

tumblr is being fucky, let me know if the text looks weird please

[coxkboxer]

I'm gonna say it. this dumbass old white man is a fucking fool.

y'know that scene in the movie saw when the body on the ground turns out to be the guy taking a little nippy-nap the whole time?

mf just GETS UP at the end??

that would be mr jigsaw's worst fucking mistake if he put me in that room because my first literal instinct would be to chuck something at it's fucking head to see if it was really dead. that old man would be rendered unconscious by the steel toe of my fucking shoe, bc I'd probably be wearing my mf work shoes when he kidnaps me bc I don't go nowhere else.

But does he take their shoes? probably.

it's been a while since I saw the movie and after some research, he does in fact take their shoes. ok, so he's not that dumb but he's still pretty fucking dumb. Might I direct you to some of the items those two guys find?

HE LITERALLY GIVES THEM TWO SAWS.

but, okay, the blade might be a bit dull and the chain on my ankle probably wouldn't allow me to reach the body without help. I think that one guy only reaches it after cutting off his own foot.

so, after failing to cut off my chain for the next hour, I'd probably take it apart and attempt to use the bits to pick the locks on my chain. You can clearly see there's a lock of some sort on it. once I'm free, that mf is getting bashed in. REMEMBER: MY FIRST LITERAL INSTINCT IS TO MAKE SURE THAT BODY IS DEAD. First time I watched this movie, I knew 100% that I would beat the shit out of that dead guy. No trust.

anyway, if that doesn't work, mr jigsaw had really put together this extravagant, disgusting bathroom deathtrap and even decorated it with everything you'd ever find in a filthy roadside gas station camode. INCLUDING:

THE BACK OF THE TOILET TANK CAP. YEAH. 100% TOTALLY WITHIN REACH.

and it's clearly porcelain and heavy, and would probably even be able to crush his fucking skull if I were to make it. Even if not, that has to startle the bitch and then his jig is saw-ed. even if I wasn't the guy over there, with a little convincing, I'm sure I could get him to do it for me.

but what if I'm the guy on the other side? what if mr jigsaw knew how violent and unstable I am?

those pipes are rusty as fuck and absolutely CAN and WILL come off the wall if I force it to. Then I'll have a stick to poke the body with and that'll be really fucking annoying for his old-ass arthritis-riddled bones, I'm sure. I mean, the reason he'd put me in there to begin with is because I'm an asshole and a general annoyance. I bet I could peel off those wall tiles and throw them at him like slices of cheese when I get bored. Honestly, he's really fucking dumb. I'd want to see if he had anything on him, too, so if I got my hands on his frail little man body, I'd strip him naked. He would no longer have clothes and his dick and balls would be out. How committed to the bit is this guy? hmm? probably not to that extent.

MY POINT IS. either way, his soft supple skull is either getting slammed with a rusted pipe or a toilet tank lid.

then what?? what if I fucking kill him? he's got that stupid little tumor in his brain and I'm about to bjonk him right on his underdeveloped soft spot. literally then what?? what happens when he's fucking dead??? NOTHING!! series over! everyone go home!!

BUT ANOTHER THING

GUN.

I know for a fucking fact I would Not Shoot that Other Guy, no matter fucking what. I would not be able to do it. I hate guns anyway and I'd freak the fuck out. I would sob and empty a round into the dead guy, even if it was one of those "shoot ur friend or die" I WOULD NOT!! So, if the other guy has the gun and decides to shoot me, I still win. bc I'll be dead probably. that's my solution to most bad situations anyway so like :/ maybe I'd shoot myself

and you see that man can get real close to that dead guy, but I think that's after he saws off his foot. idk I don't really want to rewatch it but I just keep thinking about it.

Now me and the other guy either starve to death or cut off our own feet at the ankles. either way, we win. this is before that mf has any interns to help his crazy ass. dumbass bitch. he doesn't account for people being so mentally unwell. in that position, it's I either kill myself or I dismember whatever's closest to me and that's the fucking body in the center of the floor. He really thought that was a good idea? DUMBASS.

thanks for coming to my ted talk <3

[glowingbadger]

hiii angel! i've been really enjoying your fe3h content, i'd love to see your take on this if you'd like to — felix waiting until after the war to act on his feelings he had for the reader, meaning he'd been holding himself back. maaaaybe with some generally romantic spicy content 👀?

Oh ho ho, Anon, this is most excellent Felix content. I absolutely see him as the "quietly and angrily pining" type.

Felix (FE3H) x GN Reader

Semi-spicy idk

Felix is glad the war is over. Really, he is. No more sitting through dull strategy meetings. No more pointless debate just to get through to the Boar. No more frantically looking for you after every battle to make sure you were okay (while doing his best to ensure he didn't look like he was doing so). Of course, his nature demands that he find opportunities to put his blade to work. That will come with time, he figures.

But now, he has to make a decision.

Warfare had given him an excuse. You both had more pressing matters to focus on- a romantic entanglement would only be a distraction on the battlefield, and that was if you somehow reciprocated his feelings. But now, such barriers had vanished, and if he waited too long, someone else may even approach you first. It was this, the idea that he could be made to watch you fall into the arms of another without even a chance to voice his desires, that finally broke through his hesitation.

The forces gathered at Garreg Mach are still recovering from the aftermath of their last battle. There's still much to do- wounds to be mended, funds to be distributed, and so on. But soon enough, those gathered will disperse to attend to their home territories, and Felix will be expected to do the same. He has to act now.

So that's how he ends up at the door to your quarters at the monastery. He thinks to knock, but then thinks that may be overly formal. Instead, you hear a stiff,

"Uh, Y/N, can- can I come in?"

It's late, so you weren't expecting anyone, let alone Felix. You'd already changed into a nightshirt that just skimmed the halfway point of your thighs, and you think perhaps that it may be improper to see him like this. But.. it is Felix. Surely he would roll his eyes at such concerns. So you come to the door and greet him with a smile.

"Hey, Felix! Do you need something?"

His dark eyes dart down your frame, then quickly back up to your face. Abruptly, he steps into your room and let's the door swing shut behind him, muttering,

"Uh, yeah, I guess, sort of."

He's acting... bizarre.

"Is... everything okay?" You step forward and bring the back of your hand to his forehead, "Are you sick or something?"

He lurches away from your touch, and your heart drops just a bit.

"I'm fine," he blurts out. He's silent for a moment. His hand raises as if to reach out to you, then it twitches back to him. You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off, "I have something that I have to tell you. But you need to close your eyes first." Your confusion must be evident on your face, as he sighs in exasperation and adds, "Just- just do it, okay?"

You almost laugh when you say,

"Okay, fine!" and close your eyes as you stand expectantly before him (though expecting what, you're not sure). At first, you don't hear a thing out of the ordinary. Felix takes a breath. Then, you feel a warmth against your lips. He kisses you, deep and firm, very nearly throwing you off balance in the process. You give a little squeak of surprise through your nose, but then, he pulls away. Your eyes shoot open and see him, bright red in the face and turning away towards the door.

"Felix- wait-!" You grab onto his arm and pull him back to you, and you swear you can see the moment of realization in his expression just before your lips meet once more. One strong arm wraps tightly around your waist and the other snakes a hand up into your hair as he leans into your kiss. You cling to the front of his clothing, letting out soft, pleasured sighs against him. His lips are surprisingly soft. He smells like sun and weapon oil.

When you finally part from one another enough to speak, you're both panting very slightly, both trembling just a little.

"Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, Y/N?" Felix says, his voice low and so much softer than you've ever heard it. You nod, your hands still resting on his hard chest as he holds you to him.

"I think so. And I feel the same, Felix."

This time, when he kisses you, it's with such sudden fire and intensity that you're thrown off balance for real. You step back just a little to catch yourself, and instead, your legs collide with the side of your bed and you tumble backward.

"Woah- hey-!" Felix naturally follows, and his hands hit the bed on either side of your head with a heavy fwump.

At first, he seems about to stand up- but your hand brushes dark bangs from his eyes and caresses the sharp contour of his cheekbone down to his jaw, and he freezes. You imagine that your face must be blushing as deeply and conspicuously as his, but you don't allow your gaze to waver. Somehow, you hope against hope that he can see all of your conviction in your eyes. How certain you are of your feelings for him. He whispers your name with an odd scratch in his throat.

"Do you... do you want this?" He says as though he can hardly bring himself to say the words aloud. Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him down onto you, and you reply,

"Yes. I want you, Felix. Only you."

[seeuonadarknite]

smile for me — yandere kozume kenma x f. reader

warnings: slight angst, abuse, threatening, noncon, hickeys, oral, creampie, kidnapping

Kenma was always quite the outcast. He had a difficult time fitting in with the rest of his classmates, and preferred just being a face out in the crowd. In fact, the only real friend he maintained throughout junior high and high school was his upperclassman, Kuroo.

But their time together was cut short as Kuroo had to move on and graduate with the rest of his fellow third years. Once he left his life for good, Kenma's world turned black and white. Every bland day felt the exact same.

Wake up, attend class, go to practice, go home, sleep, and repeat. There wasn't any real reason for him to continue playing, seeing as his original reason for joining was to be there for his best friend. He was an adult now, having better things to do with his time.

Compared to his performance last year, he was mediocre at best. It was sad for his teammates to see him like this, but they couldn't blame him. He had no outside motivation and no reason to give it his all. At this rate, it'd probably be in his best interest to just give up and quit volleyball.

But his pessimism came to an abrupt end as soon as the doors to the gymnasium opened up on that rainy day during practice. Looking up from the dirty gym flooring, his eyes landed on your graceful figure. Not only were you a sight for sore eyes, but you brought colors back into his world once again.

“Everyone! This is [y/n]. She's going to be your manager for the year.” The coach introduced you to the rest of the team with a large grin covering his features. You gazed at each and every player on the court, briefly studying their features.

“Hi! I'm excited to be here with you guys and although I'm inexperienced in volleyball, I'll try my best to help you guys out in any way that I can!” There it was again. That damned smile you always seemed to wear. 

Your beaming smile lit up the dark cave Kenma had been hiding himself in. And he wanted it all to himself. However, it was as clear as day that Kenma wasn't the only one on his team looking forward to seeing you more.

—

His obsession started off innocent. Kenma was just a dependent person, and without Kuroo, he needed somebody else to rely on. At least that was what you told yourself.

At first he would just walk you to your homeroom class. It was on the way to his, so where was the harm in it?

But it gradually became overbearing. Not only would he walk you to homeroom and practice after school, but he soon began walking you home from school in order to “protect you from creeps.”

He followed you around like a lost puppy. An insecure, lost puppy. If you ever tried gently approaching the subject by telling him that you're alright on your own, he'd simply stare at you with glossy eyes and frown.

It somehow felt worse than him getting angry at you. You just felt pure guilt, and would end up apologizing for bringing it up.

Kenma knew what he was doing. With the advantage of his lack of friends, he could cling to you like a magnet without any questions asked.

From an outsider's perspective, it looked as if you had him wrapped around your little finger. But it was really Kenma who had the upper hand. It didn't take him long to analyze your overall personality and learn how to evoke certain emotions from you.

He was strategic, calm and collected. He knew he wasn't the kinda guy you'd go after, so he'd have to take extra measures in making you reliant on him. In a few months time, you'd be begging him to walk you to class and you'd be afraid of being without him.

It was perfect. As long as he played his cards right, everything would go to plan.

“[y/n]! I know this is sudden, but I've really enjoyed spending time with you during practice and I'd love to maybe.. take you out sometime?” Or not.

Kenma was on his way towards the front of the school where he'd normally meet you to walk home with you. He had planned on asking you if you'd like to hang out at the nearby arcade after school. However, he was beat to it. Right before his eyes was the sight of Lev asking you out on a date.

The situation at hand didn't dawn upon him until his vision was filled with the sight of you pressing a gentle kiss onto the lanky Russian's cheek. Sure, he was peeved at his teammate for asking out his crush. But your positive response was what had caused the crushing sensation in his heart. He thought he was going to be ill.

You stabbed him right in the back. That was supposed to be him. Was he not good enough for you? He crossed over so many bridges in order to earn your attention, yet it still wasn't enough. You'd never choose a guy like him.

He'd have to make you.

—

It had been a few days since you last interacted with Kenma. It was weird; you were used to him following you around wherever you went with his focused gaze constantly diverted towards his game. Sure, having him by your side 99% of the time was mildly inconvenient for you, but it was something you had grown used to.

It was nice having somebody that seemed to care about your feelings so deeply. While your bubbly attitude helped you in terms of popularity, it didn't quite fill the void. Not even the boy you had recently began seeing really seemed to deeply understand your emotions like Kenma did.

As much as you hated to admit it, you needed Kenma just as much as he needed you. That was why you were more than willing to walk him home for the first time in days after being asked.

Whilst you didn't understand why he took a break from walking around with you like this in the first place, you were glad to know that he was doing alright. You really did worry about his wellbeing during your time apart. Perhaps you had grown a soft spot for the introvert.

“Do you.. wanna come in?” Kenma kept his gaze on the sidewalk as he offered you to come over. As much as you wanted to agree and try and rekindle your friendship over pop drinks, you unfortunately already had plans for that evening. Lev promised he'd take you to see fireworks at a festival in town.

But you couldn't just flat out reject him. There was something wrong with him and you wanted to resolve things before goofing off with his teammate. Flashing him a small smile, you nodded your head and followed him into his vacant house.

As soon as the two of you slipped your shoes off, he led you into his living room and plopped himself down onto the couch. You could tell that he was nervous by the way that he was timidly fiddling his fingers and avoiding your eyes.

“I can stay for a few minutes. Lev promised he'd take me to see the fireworks in town, but I want to know what's been going on with you before I leave. I care about you, Kenma.” Were you joking? Kenma was about ready to be emotionally vulnerable with you and you decided to bring him up?

It seemed as if your words flipped a metaphorical switch in Kenma's brain. His immediate change in expression gave you chills. “No.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you stood up from your spot on the couch and narrowed your eyes at the pudding head. “I'm sorry?” Your intuition was right. Something was wrong with him.

Following you in suit, Kenma stood up from his spot on the couch and began making slow strides towards you. For each step that he'd take towards you, you'd take a step back. By the time you had taken around five steps back, you ended up with your back pressed up against the living room wall. How cliche.

“Kenma, what's gotten into you? Are you okay?” Even during a time like this, you were still seemingly worried over the male's wellbeing. It was almost laughable.

Instead of lashing out, Kenma gazed at you with dulled eyes. Taking a few steps backwards, he took in a deep breath and prepared himself for his next plan of action. “Just.. follow me. I need to show you something.” Only you could understand Kenma when he murmured like this.

Something about the whole situation was off. The apathetic look in his eyes was unsettling to say the least, seeing as his eyes were clouded with frustration just a minute ago. But you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

So you took him up on his offer and allowed him to take the lead. He ended up bringing you upstairs into his room. Upon first glance, there was nothing that stood out. His bedroom was exactly how you expected it; organized and cleanly, yet not quite bland. The figurines and posters he had set up complimented the room nicely.

But it didn't make sense to you. Why was he so insistent on having you follow him up here? You easily could've continued your conversation inside of the living room, so what gave?

Click. Glancing over at the pudding head, you watched as he swiftly locked the door, rendering it difficult to exit and impossible to enter. Before you could question his actions, Kenma shakily pulled out a pocket knife from his pant’s pocket, slowly inching towards you with the weapon. “Get on the bed..” He almost seemed unsure of his actions.

But his reluctance quickly turned into assertiveness when you wouldn't oblige. “Now.” His arm stopped shaking. One step closer and the blade would be poking at your throat.

You reluctantly climbed onto the queen bed placed up against the wall. There was a window! Perhaps you could— “Don't even think about it.” His tone was dripping with uncharacteristic dominance as he spoke.

Climbing up onto the bed, he lightly nudged your shoulder, quietly ordering you to lay down. Of course you were going to listen, the guy had a weapon in his hand. As much as you wanted to question his actions, your body was in a complete state of shock. What happened to the innocent, introverted boy you once knew?

Noticing your shocked expression, Kenma sighed, crawling up in between your legs. “[y/n], you're all that I care about. I just want you to love me back.” His face heated up as he inched his head towards yours, leaning in to press a chaste kiss on your lips.

However, your reaction wasn't as positive as he wanted it to be. As soon as his plump lips pressed against yours, you immediately drew your head back, forgetting about the weapon in his hold. “Kenma! What has gotten into you? You know that I'm seeing Lev!” You couldn't be gentle with him anymore. There was a line you sure as hell weren't willing to cross with him.

Upon hearing the Russian's name, Kenma clenched his teeth, wearing an expression with pure lividness written all over it. Even after mustering up the courage to confess his feelings and to even kiss you, you still weren't content with him. There would always be somebody better and he'd always have to go through desperate measures just to earn your attention.

But as he gazed down at your petrified expression, he came to a realization. He didn't have to fight for your attention and idly stand by as you gave it to other people. He had the upper hand. He was in control here.

There wasn't a single damned person on this planet that could stop him from taking you away and ravaging your innocence. You belonged to him now. He was the only person you'd get to look at from now on and there was nothing you could do about it.

“You know.. I don't know why I thought you had a thing for me. I guess I was just being really, really stupid.” He gazed at you with a vacant expression. You almost felt bad for him. Almost. But your guilt was gone as quickly as it came once his fingers began peeling your shirt off. “But it doesn't matter anymore. It doesn't matter at all.”

Dropping your shirt onto the hardwood flooring of the room, Kenma gazed at your bare skin with pink tinting his cheeks. Your skin was like a blank canvas, and Kenma was ready to paint a masterpiece.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up at the feeling of his plump lips peppering gentle kisses across your collarbone. Sooner rather than later, he made his way up towards yours your nape and his soft kisses turned into nibbling. “Kenma. Please..” Your voice was strained as you begged him to stop.

But your pleas only egged him on as he began running his tongue over your neck, giving you a ticklish sensation from his wet appendage. He eventually attached his lips onto a certain spot on the side of your neck before sucking on the sensitive skin like a leech. It was your first real hickey and it ached. It felt like your skin was being sucked by a tiny vacuum.

The worst part about it all was that he ended up leaving a giant trail of hickeys from your neck to your chest. Your entire upper body was scattered with vibrant love bites.

Wiping his swollen lips off with the back of his hand, Kenma sat up and admired his work. Just the sight in itself caused metaphorical hearts to form in his eyes.

But it wasn't enough. The need to feel your soft skin against his own overruled Kenma's insecurities, as he reluctantly pulled his t-shirt over his head. Before he could begin dreading the thought of you laughing at his scrawny figure, he leaned down and stared at the bra that blockaded him from your breasts. That wouldn't do.

It was difficult to say the least for Kenma to try and figure out how to remove your bra, especially with you thrashing and squirming beneath him. Not being able to figure out something as simple as a bra clip was frustrating enough; you deliberately making it difficult just pushed him over the edge.

“Stop squirming or I'll cut you.” His small voice was stern as he scolded you for moving. You wanted to believe that his threat was empty, but his exasperated expression told you a different story.

After what felt like trying solve a jigsaw puzzle, he finally freed you from the death trap of your bra, eagerly throwing it off to the side. It didn't take long for him to place a hand on each of your breasts, kneading at your skin like cat.

Kenma felt like he was on a power trip as he fondled your breasts and squeezed your hardened nipples between his fingers. The way you sat idly whilst he leaned his head downwards and began swirling his tongue around each bud was absolutely exhilarating. You knew there was nothing you'd be able to do to defend yourself without hurting Kenma, and you weren't willing to make that sacrifice.

The fact that you still seemed to care more about his wellbeing than your own caused his heart to skip a beat. He really did have you wrapped around his finger.

As he sucked on your soft mounds, he trailed his hands down to the waistband of your shorts, tugging at the fabric. He soon diverted his attention towards your bottoms as he eagerly slid them down to your ankles, leaving you in nothing but the thin material of your panties.

Of course, it didn't take him long to grab onto the sides of your panties and pull them off as well. He had waited far too long for this moment and he wasn't going to waste a second of it.

Upon first glance, Kenma was mesmerized. He couldn't help but bask in your naked glory. The sight in itself was so entrancing that his body began moving on his own as leaned down on his stomach, bringing his face so close to your sensitive parts that you could feel his hot breath fanning your skin.

“Kenma.. Please don't do this.” It wouldn't hurt to try and stop him one last time, right? Even if you weren't officially a thing with Lev, it still felt wrong having another man's hands exploring your body like a sacred temple.

Unfortunately for you, Kenma was trapped in a lustful trance, leaving your pleas unheard. Without further notice, Kenma flicked his tongue against your clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves. As he parted his lips to suck on the sensitive nub, you couldn’t help but unintentionally wrap your legs around his head, practically grinding yourself onto his face.

The sight of you almost bucking your hips into his face gave him a sudden burst of confidence. He plunged two fingers into your greedy hole, feeling his cock twitch at the feeling of your muscles tightening around his thin digits. God, the look on his face screamed shamelessness.

Your back arched as he pumped his fingers in and out of your drenched cunt, feeling a tight knot begin to form in your abdomen. Thinking rationally was out of the question; all you wanted was for him to finish you off and give you that sweet release.

Fortunately for you, his tongue seemed to swirl at just the right pace and his fingers seemed to curl at just the right angle as they rubbed up against your g-spot. It wasn’t long until your hips suddenly bucked upwards whilst you reached your end, feeling your walls clench around his digits and your juices coat his hand.

Although Kenma’s expression was as nonchalant as ever, you could just tell he felt triumphant by the glint in his eye. The look in his eye was akin to the way he’d look after defeating the final boss in a video game.

Dread sat deep in your stomach as you finally came to your senses, allowing your surroundings to truly dawn upon you. Realization struck you like a bolt lightning as your captor pulled his last articles of clothing off, allowing his erect cock to spring out.

The fact that he was a hell of a lot more hung than you pictured for a scrawny guy like him just added insult to injury. This could not be happening. “Stop looking at me like that.” How on earth he still managed to act timid was a mystery to you. This was all on his own accord. And only on his.

But his lustful desires overruled any possible guilt he could feel. If he was being real with himself, there wasn’t a guilty bone in his body. He needed to claim your body as his.

Prodding the tip of his throbbing cock at your entrance, Kenma gradually slipped himself inside of your needy cunt. His movements were painfully slow. The way he slowly pushed his length into your hole really allowed your insides to memorize the shape and form of his cock.

By the time that he had fully inserted himself inside of you, your back was arched and you were moaning like a pornstar. Before doing any movement, Kenma leaned downwards, catching your lips in a needy, desperate kiss. And although the kiss went unreturned, Kenma felt a surge of euphoria take over his senses.

Without further notice, the pudding reared his hips back, only to slam back into you, earning nothing but a choked moan from you in return. Kenma’s timid movements were nowhere to be seen. He thrusted into you at an unbearable pace.

If you weren’t so overridden with forbidden pleasure, you’d be shocked over how rough he was in bed. Was this really the same guy that didn’t have the guts to talk to you without looking up from his game? Where did this sudden burst of confidence come from?

Your internal questions went unanswered as Kenma used your hips to steady himself as he pumped his throbbing cock in and out of your cunt. You’d be shocked if the death grip he had on your curves didn’t end up leaving bruises.

After awkwardly trying to find a better angle, Kenma ended up hoisting your legs over his shoulders as he thrusted even deeper inside of you than before. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes as the tip of his cock pressed up against your cervix with each rapid thrust.

Trailing his hand down south, Kenma placed his fingers onto your nub and began rubbing circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. It was all too much. You hated how much pleasure this man was giving you. But you couldn’t help your muscles from twitching as you suddenly arched your back, releasing your flow of juices onto Kenma’s cock.

The way your cunt hugged his cock had his eyes rolling backwards. It didn’t take him long to hold onto your hips with a vice like grip as he shot his load into your cunt, perfectly filling your womb with his thick, sticky fluids. By the time that he pulled his cock out of your aching hole, fluids were dripping down both of your legs, staining his bed sheets with cum.

As the both of you struggled to catch your breaths, the sound of popping rang throughout your ears. After pathetically scooting your trembling legs over to Kenma’s window, your heart shattered at the sight before you.

Fireworks were going off in the distance— the fireworks you promised you’d see with Lev. Wrapping his arms around your bare figure from behind, Kenma placed a chaste kiss below your ear before whispering bittersweet words.

“This is how things are meant to be. Come on, smile for me..”

[witchofthescions]

Once Ernastral's feet met the familiar cobbles of Ishgard's aetheryte plaza, she began walking on autopilot. The same path she'd walked hundreds of times before over the previous year. So familiar she could walk it in her sleep.

She may as well have been sleeping, as the next thing she knew she was in the Pillars not too far from the Fortemps manor. She had no memory of traversing the distance between. The cold Coerthan winds seemed to cut through her as she stood at the bottom of the stairs just down the path from the manor's entrance. She rubbed her arms distractedly, momentarily frozen in indecision. Part of her wanted to head inside, into the warmth of the familiar old manor.

But what would they think of you? Of what you have done?

She hugged herself tighter against the cold and swiftly made her way past. So lost in her own thoughts was she that she failed to notice the door open as she hurried by, nor did she mark the worried look of the man who chanced to exit just in time to spot her.

She knew the Pillars like the back of her hand, having trod its streets so many times. Ishgard was almost like a second home to her, almost as dear to her as her home in the Farreach. If only her family home weren't so remote and difficult to reach.

As she passed by the Tribunal, she heard a well-dressed Elezen man let out a wistful sigh. She glanced up, eyeing him with a certain amount of confusion.

"After witnessing a spectacle like that, everyday life seems rather dull in comparison..."

"Like what?" Ernastral asked. The man glanced up at her, eyes widening in surprise.

"Hm? So you didn't see that trial earlier?" Erna shook her head. The man shrugged. "Ah, your loss. Fury take me, the way that heretic swung that slab of iron he called a sword was a sight to behold!"

Erna's stomach twisted in knots. She knew some people still clung to the old ways in Ishgard, even after being shown how corrupt the roots of the church were. 

"He couldn't have carried a shield if he'd wanted to, the blade was so big. Had to keep two hands on it at all times! I was amazed he managed to keep up with that Temple Knight for as long as he did."

Gohnoh'a's blade would fit that description, Erna mused. The thing was nearly larger than he was, and he was on the tall side for a Miqo'te.

"Fought like a demon from the deepest pits of the seventh hell, bellowing threats and working his arts," the man continued. Erna perked up at that. That sure described how Gohnoh'a fought, too. "I wasn't sure what to make of it at first, but then I heard someone say that he must be a dark knight!"

Dark knight... She hadn't heard of that before. She fixed the man with a curious look, about to ask him for more details. But a worried look came over him and he glanced around as if he expected someone to spring from the shadows and accost them.

"B-But you didn't hear that from me, eh!? In fact, I'm sure I don't know anything about it!"

For a moment, Erna considered leaving the man to it. Maybe she should leave this mystery well alone, since he seemed reluctant to divulge anything. And the consequences of someone from the church overhearing them could potentially be... dire.

But Erna was a curious lass through and through.

"Tell me more about this 'dark knight' fella," she pressed. The man looked even more fearful as he held up his hands defensively.

"Ye gods, are you mad!? We're standing outside the bloody Tribunal!" He let out an irritated sigh, taking one more furtive look around to confirm they were the only ones nearby. "Fine, fine! But keep quiet and listen well, because I'm only going to say this once!"

Erna nodded, leaning in closer. The man cleared his throat.

"So as I was saying, that heretic was fighting like a man possessed. Even after he took several wounds, he showed no sign of pain─though there was no mistaking the blood. As the fight wore on, it began to soak through his armor, spreading to every ilm of his body. But when it began to rise and envelop him as a mist, I realized it wasn't blood, but something dark and twisted..."

Erna's eyes widened as her mind began to race with questions and theories. Magic worked through blood? It wasn't unheard of. She'd spilled quite a bit of blood while taking the rites to become a Black Mage, after all. And there were many forbidden spells and rites that used blood as a reagent. Sometimes any blood would do, sometimes voidsent blood was needed, and sometimes the blood of other magical creatures like dragons was used. It made for a very potent ingredient at times.

"But the righteous are not so easily cowed, Halone be praised! I screamed myself hoarse when that Temple Knight slipped past his guard and ran him through."

Erna had to hide her disappointment.

"Good riddance, I say. Man was not meant to wield such arts!" A wince. Many would make the same claim about black magic, too.

"Yet I wonder... was he truly one of those... those..." The man let out a huff and waved a hand, as if chasing the thought away. "Well, it matters not. I heard the Temple Knights talking of dumping his corpse in the Brume. By sunrise, it'll be stripped bare and tossed over the walls. It will be as though he never was..." He glanced up at Erna with a knowing look. "And as though we never had this conversation."

Erna nodded and thanked the man for his time, before heading off towards the Brume. Morbid of a thought as it was, perhaps the man's body might hold something resembling a clue as to the nature of the powers he wielded in life.

[phytocondria]

Before the Mines

@coolcoolglassessuggested the prompt of "Advice from a character with more experience to a younger member of Pelican Town" and I may have still had Marlon on the brain. A pseudo-sequel to my last post.

Word Count: 1,008

Summary: Marlon's seen that adventurer's spark before. Too familiar for him not to recognize it in our purple-haired heroine Not after all these years spotting it in the mirror.

Abigail stood at the mouth of the mines, squeezing the hilt of her sword as she tried convincing herself to step into the darkness before her.

Don’t chicken out, you already told the guys, you’d go .

‘Come on, You can do this. Today’s the day.

You- You can do this.

Come on, just go inside. Even Sebastian’s been down the first floor … even if it was on a dare, with Jock boy and Sam.

Alone... Maybe.

Or you could lie to the guys.

Just the first floor.

No, come on.’

“Hey Girlie, whatcha doin?” After twenty minutes of deep breathing and failing to convince herself to move forward, Abigail froze at the gruff voice tearing her from her own psyching up. Abigail felt like she’d been dunked into an ice bath, as panic at being caught by one of the adults in town set in. The only relief was that it didn’t sound like Robin or Demetrius. Muscles finally unlocking, she searched for the source of the voice. “Nothing.” she shouted, fumbling with her pack. Managing enough sense to tear her sword, sheath and all, off herself, she tossed the incriminating piece into the nearby bush. “Playing music, mountains are great acoustic.” she rushed, spouting off the practiced lie as she pulled an old flute from her pack.

“Thought, I’d check out a new spot. You know, new season, new spot.” Abigail shrugged, attempting to explain away as inconspicuous as possible. Even if Marlon replied with an unsuspicious nod, Abigail was sweating buckets in the cool, morning breeze. Marlon didn’t bother pressing any further. Her stiffness only deflated with a sigh as he continued past her.

“Thought ya’ normally play by that side of the lake?” Finally Abigail spotted the source of the mystery voice. Grey and gruff, a man in his late 50s approached.

Abi didn’t relax per say, but seeing it wasn’t one of the parents or the new farmer in town, a bit of relief started to settle in again.

She expected him to keep walking into town, thinking she’d gotten away with something, but the rustling next to her axed that hope quick. No, he'd just been moving to the other side of the bush, pulling out the hilted sword she'd tossed, out from the shrubbery.

“Hey that’s-” she cut herself off, thinking better than admitting she’d brought a weapon up with her to any adult. Just because the guild guys rarely came down to town, didn’t mean they never came down. Even he’d have to know she was Pierre’s kid.

“Yours?” He asked, nonchalant as Marlon raised it up.

“No, never seen it before.” she answered, meeting his gaze and shrugging back. Her heart sank at the sword being discovered, but literally turned her back to the blade so she didn't have to look at him any longer.

“Tha’s good. Thing barely looks good ‘nuff for scrap” Marlon mumbled, pulling the blade out and inspecting it. “Definitely not one a Clint’s.”

“It’s not scrap.” she grumbled under her breath. Marlon looked back at her, a smirk hidden completely, if not for the twinkling in his eyes as Abigail quietly fumed.

“Maybe not scrap, but looks more ‘en those props Grampleton uses in them fair of theirs.” Marlon brought the sword into his hand and gave it a few expert swings. “Balance ain’t too bad. Decent enough to practice with, but things as dull as doorknob.“ he gestured to the mouth of the caves, tossing it as if the metal thing weighed nothing. Catching it at the end of the blade before offering it back to her, pommel first. “Should probably get it sharpened if ya’ hopin’ to go in there with this thing?” He informed as she looked at him with confusion.

“You’re not going to tell me to stay out of the mines?” Abigail responded, her distrust at simply being allowed to take the sword back evident across her face.

“No.” she finally admitted, teenage contempt openly directed to Marlon as she crossed her arms sourly. He looked at her and the sword again, nodding thoughtfully before resheathing it.

“You'da listen if I did?”

No old person was this cool. Abigail really shouldn’t admit it out loud, but no. She'd probably go in as soon as she worked up the nerve. But, he'd said it in a tone she’d never heard from any other adult before. Not angry, or defeated, or worried, just... this calm, inevitability. Instead, Abi just gave a shrug and slowly reached for the pommel of her blade. Before she could, he lifted it up as if on second thought.

Of course he wasn’t going to give it back, she knew this was some trick.

“You ain’t taken it to Clint’s ‘re you?”

No sh*t she wasn’t. Prop or not, that was the best weapon she was going to get her hands on. If she took it to Clint, well... let’s just say Clint wasn’t cool enough not to mention it to her parents. And then months of hiding a sword behind a loose floorboard under her bed and sneaking out with it in the middle of the night when her parents were fast asleep to practice in the graveyard would've been for nothing. Abigail could not let her parent’s know the sword even existed.

“Yeah…. Yeah. It’s not too bad fer practice.” he mumbled to himself, stroking his chin before tossing it back to her. “Come with me.”

“Follow you? Where?” Abigail asked dumbly, scrambling to catch her beloved blade as she gawked at the one-eyed man.

“Adventure’s Guild. I seen that look ‘efore. You got that fire in yer belly, and I ain’t yer pops. If ya’ insist on using this piece of junk, I gotta make sure you ‘least know how to swing that.” He explained, a golden tooth peeking out from the adventurer’s smile and motioned to have her follow.

Abigail hesitated, reckoning the wiser choice was to run. Stash her sword at Seb’s and hope Marlon kept his mouth shut. But there was a challenge in that offer.

“So that cabin, it's like, a guild for adventures?” she asked, slinging the sword across her shoulder and ran after him.

[teyvattherapist]

Another one, set directly after the one where Sandrone finds Childe~ :)

-

Sandrone-- by a feat of miracle-- snuck Ajax into his Academy room and squirreled the boy away into the cramped bathroom while he snuck into the infirmary again to retrieve a first aid kit. When he returned, Ajax had stripped off his coat and scarf, leaving him in a shirt that was more holes than fabric and his bloodstained shorts. Wordlessly, Sandrone handed him an energy bar he'd swiped from the cafeteria and wetted a towel, rubbing away the dirt and grime that layered Ajax like a second skin. As the dirt washed away, the wounds were brought into stark relief. Hundreds of them, layered over each other and crisscrossing Ajax's skin like gaping mouths. Some were fully healed, nothing but thin, silvery lines. Others were an angry red and purple, bruised and swollen around the edges. All had clean cuts, suggesting an expert hand behind the blade. "Who did this?" Sandrone asked. He wasn't really expecting an honest answer, anyway. But Ajax was always one to surprise him. "The Abyss. I fell into a hole in the ground, and I was taken away to somewhere." "Was it scary?" Sandrone didn't look up from his ministrations, choosing to focus on the mangled mess that was Ajax's knees (how hard did he fall?) "It was," Ajax sighed dreamily. "But the things I saw down there... it spoke to me. The Abyss spoke to me, Sulien. It told me things that scared the everloving hell out of me, but I'm grateful to them." "Why?" Sandrone finally looked up. There were a hundred questions packed into that one word. Why are you still alright? Why are you thanking the Abyss? Why do you sound so different?

And from the bloodied fragments of Ajax's face, the eye of the Abyss stared back at him, milky and purple. Ajax smiled, a pristine tear in the mangled visage of a beast rebuilt from the ground up. "So I can protect you."

IM SCREAMING, ALMOND, THIS IS

KJFDSKJDFS??

SULIEN BEING A SNEAKY LIL SHIT IS SO TRUE, THAT'S JUST HOW HE WAS-

BUT THE SO I CAN PROTECT YOU?? SO I CAN PROTECT YOU!! OH MY GOSDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD. THE ?? JFDDF YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW!! I KNOW YOU DON'T KNOW THE LOFE, BUT THAT FITS SO WELL IM SCREAMING

as promised. Part two of Desiderium under the cut.

Another nightmare, another sleepless night. This nightmare was real though, it wasn’t like his usual ones, the ones where he was bound by chains and forced to- No, he didn’t want to think about those. His mind wandered to the latest one. He had given thought to Zhongli’s words, he was longing for somebody. But who? The God had never brought it up again, so he didn’t know. It had to be Lumine right? She was pretty, sure. Strong, good with a sword, her eyes were a nice shade of gold. But something still felt off.

He needed to take a walk.. He stopped when he reached the living room, blinking at.. Lumine? Asleep on his couch? The blonde stirred and pushed herself up some, blanket falling around her shoulders. “Sandrone? Ah- your mask- I- Sorry.” She averted her eyes and Sulien realised he wasn’t wearing his mask. This was his house! Of course he wasn’t wearing his mask. He cleared his throat.

“I thought I heard voices.” Ajax commented from the hallway, hair messier than ever from sleep. “I hope it's alright I invited Lumine to stay with us while she’s in Liyue Harbour. It's closer than the inn.” Ajax explained, seeing the panicked body language only he could understand on his fellow harbinger made him feel bad that he forgot to bring it up. Paimon snored away on the armchair, clearly unbothered by it all.

Without his mask, without his gloves, his scars and face on display. He felt uncomfortable. Incredibly uncomfortable. “I’m going for a walk.” Sulien pivoted and made a beeline for the entrance. Lumine rubbed her sleep riddled eyes, a small yawn escaping her as she looked up at Ajax who was busy staring at the archway into the entrance.

The door slammed shut.

“I’ve only known him for a month or so but,” she yawned, “I take it this is abnormal?” She sat up properly, tightening the blanket around her though. Liyue evenings could get quite cold. Ajax nodded his head in response to her question. Abnormal indeed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen such an influx of emotion. Perhaps when they were kids? That was probably it.

Sulien breathed in the fresh air, late at night, he didn’t need his mask, he didn’t need to be his rank. He could just be another nameless person in the streets, he preferred it this way. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants as he walked down the streets. Very few people were out and about so late at night, but he enjoyed watching them. A ghost of a smile on his lips as he watched lovers enjoying a late night getaway or a tired sailor returning home late.

But despite his usual late night activity that often cleared his mind, his mind began to fog once more. Trailing back to his dream, it wasn’t even that bad, especially compared to the usual ones. But being abandoned in a dream, he supposed, tied into the feelings he had been having recently. The stabbing pain in his poor heart, the squeezing of his lungs, stripping his body of blood and air.

There was no way it was about Lumine though. He didn’t feel anything when he looked at her except the pain, there was nothing underneath. He sighed, finding himself at the docks. He looked out on the dark water, lilac eyes searching the depths for answers. He furrowed his brows, all he could think of when he looked at the water, all he was reminded of.. Just one thing.

Ajax.

Sulien shook his head, no, he shouldn’t think of Ajax of all people. He couldn’t, that wasn’t allowed as far as he was aware. Well no relationship was allowed in general, he was their puppet after all, he couldn’t have any strings except to Her. But still.. This seemed somehow worse. His heart lurched at the thought and he hissed in pain, bringing his hand up to his chest, scarred fingers digging into the black fabric of his shirt.

All the books he had read, all the research he did. None of it had any answers for this. And he wondered why he felt wrong. Sulien sighed, sitting on the edge of the docks, legs dangling above the water. Ajax seemed happy with Lumine either way, right? They were much cuter together. Sulien never really belonged anyways, an outsider looking in on everybody else. He sighed, leaning back on his arms.

There were footsteps on the dock behind him and he tensed his body, ice already forming in his fingers. Then the familiar scent of cologne hit him and he watched as Ajax sat down on the docks beside him, wrapped up in Sulien’s coat of all things. Sulien’s heart hurt and he looked out at the water, it was becoming so frequent that it was more of a dull ache. Ajax deserved better than him, better than some man who couldn’t give him what he wanted.

“Talk to me.” Ajax whispered, dull eyes trained on the ocean. “You’re hurting and I want to be there this time.. I wasn’t.. I wasn’t last time.” The man hesitated, pulling one knee up and rested his arm against it. Sulien wished nothing more than for the waves to take him away, drown him until there was nothing left. He could not tell the man beside him how he felt, it was wrong. It wasn’t fair.

“I’m just sick, I’ll be fine.” Sulien manipulated his voice so he sounded more hoarse, as if to hammer in the point that it was nothing more than some freak illness. “We have field work tomorrow, you should go back home and sleep. I’ll walk you back.” Sulien stood and Ajax slowly followed him. But before Sulien could head off the docks, Ajax grabbed his elbow, stopping him.

“Please talk to me when you feel ready.” Sulien merely smiled, one of the ones that Ajax knew was fake and full of lies. But the ginger accepted it in the moment.

-

Sulien sighed as he summoned his claymore, flipping the massive weapon in one hand. The conversation from the day before played in his head, over and over. But he had work to do now. Why did Ajax care? What did he mean when he said he wasn’t there last time? Sulien swung his weapon, the frostbitten blade slicing clean through the arm of the Ruin Guard. He didn’t expect to be smacked by the automaton’s other arm, he barely protected himself with a wall of ice.

“Sandrone, pay attention!” Ajax called, utterly confused on why his colleague was so lost in thought. Ajax ripped apart his bow, the hydro blades forming as he slashed at the ruin guard. It was a simple side mission, really. Destroy the ruin guard near the skirmisher camp. Easy peasy between the two of them. Hell even alone, just one of them probably could have done it. But it was rare they both were allowed into the field together.

Sulien froze the ruin guard and Ajax’s daggers turned back into his bow, he nocked an arrow and drew his string back. Right through the core, bullseye. “Alright that’s that!” Ajax’s bow dematerialised as the automaton fell. There was a whirring nearby and Sulien narrowed his eyes, Ajax didn’t seem to hear it. But he did.

A wall of ice protected Ajax from the incoming missiles of another automaton. Sulien barely dodged the drill of a ruin hunter. Why were there so many all of a sudden? Ajax easily flipped out of the way of the hit of the ruin guard that had attacked him, sliding back to where he had been when fighting the first one. His bow appeared in his hand and he got into position again. “Tartaglia! How many did the Skirmishers report?” Sulien questioned as blocked an attack with his claymore.

His arms shook as the hunter tried to keep cutting downwards with its long sword-like attachment. He had to yield, ducking underneath it. Ajax bent down on his perch, pointing his bow upwards he released multiple hydro arrows into the air. “They only reported one ruin guard! There was no mention of multiples, let alone a hunter.” Ajax called back as another hydro arrow appeared between his fingers.

Now underneath it the ruin hunter decided this was the time to use lasers. Sulien barely constructed the dome around himself in time, manipulating the frost in the air and creating a solid ice dome. A fourth automaton had Ajax seething, how in the hell did their subordinates miss this? When the one he had been fighting slammed its hand onto Ajax’s perch he used its arm as a bridge, bow turning into a polearm.

The ice around Sulien melted but before he could react a second ruin hunter was slamming into him, sending him flying backwards. “Sulien! Careful!” Ajax called, stabbing his polearm into the core of the ruin guard. Sulien got back up, dodging out of the way of one of the hunters. He ran for his claymore, weaving between various attacks as quickly as he could while Ajax struggled with the ruin guard.

Sulien picked his claymore back up and adjusted his grip on the weapon, he slashed at the legs of the ruin guard Ajax was battling, sending the automaton to the ground, the whirring of its body stopping. Two ruin hunters left- Sulien turned around and was faced with three. What in the world- “Something is summoning them here, Tartaglia. This is abnormal.” Sulien adjusted his grip on his blade, peering through the new crack in his mask. He’d have to fix it again.

A bright light beside him blinded him and Sulien hissed as he turned away from Ajax. He didn’t really have time to focus on the transformation as he shielded the both of them from the incoming missiles. A wall of ice reinforced with vines splintered and exploded, the shards turning into snowflakes as they fell from it. At least the wall had lasted against the missiles.

While Sulien thoroughly distracted one of the ruin hunters, Ajax focused on the other two, he brought his hand down, summoning multiple thunderbolts onto one of the ruin hunters, causing it to collapse to the ground, stunned from the electricity. His bow turned into a water spear as he dashed forward, the water from his weapon spraying the automaton, thoroughly frying it. Sulien’s claymore became encased in ice once more, and the ruin hunter he had to deal with was down for the count.

Ajax turned his attention to the last ruin hunter, turning in time to watch the missiles coming at him. He used his ability to blink, reappearing closer toSulien who was looking worse for wear quite frankly. Ajax lunged forward once more, a wheel of electrified water surrounding the ruin hunter, tightening on it. Sulien stepped forward, releasing a blast of ice that froze the machine, causing it to fall from its awkward frozen position, shattering upon contact on the ground. Ajax was beaming, still in his Abyss form but he let himself actually touch the ground rather than float and he turned towards Sulien.

Sulien's claymore dug into the stone and he used it to keep himself up. Ajax closed the distance between them, his weapon floating beside him. Sulien collapsed onto his knees, the large weapon giving out underneath his weight and clattering to the stone floor of the ruin. Funny.. This didn't hurt as much as the heart problems had been hurting.. Life was funny that way. "Hey, hey what happened?" Ajax shifted back, he was exhausted from the fight and using foul legacy. His eyes trailed down to where Sulien's hand was pressed against his side. Ajax gripped the man's hand, pulling it back. The dark green of his palm stained even darker.

"The ruin hunter hit me." Sulien's head hung low, the mask he wore finally giving out, falling to the stone floor, the crack that had started to form fully breaking through the fragile mask. Ajax wished that Sulien didn't look so void, maybe it could help him assess the extent of the wound. Ajax helped Sulien out of the coat he wore, discarding the heavy material onto the ground. The touch was electrifying to Sulien, whose heart only clenched more. So many things unsaid.. But even now, he figured, he didn't deserve the right to say them.

Ajax pulled the man's shirt up, inspecting the wound. It was bad. Really bad. Sulien didn't even flinch when the man used his hydro vision to try and get rid of some of the blood to see better. "I never wanted this." Sulien mumbled as he stared up at the sky. Yes that much was true, Sulien never wanted to be on the battlefield. He was not a warrior. At one time he wanted to be a scholar, he wanted to teach. All of that ripped away with his memories. This was the end Ajax wanted, surrounded by bodies on the battlefield. Ajax ripped the banner he wore, pressing the fabric against the wound.

"Sulien, keep your eyes open, okay? I'll get you help." Would he be strong enough to carry Sulien and his weapon all the way back to Liyue Harbour? Sulien laughed, it was bitter though and it made Ajax's heart hurt. They both had so many things left unsaid. Ajax grunted as he lifted Sulien, the man hadn't listened. Though, when did he ever listen, Ajax mused. The harbinger had to use foul legacy again, there was no way he'd be able to get from the ruins all the way back to the harbour. The warm blood on his hands made the decision for him.

The stares he got as he moved through Liyue Harbour meant nothing to him, he kept Sulien's coat over the man in question, shielding his face and wound from the general public. The claymore in his free hand as he quickly moved through the streets. There were so many things Ajax hadn't said, so many things he felt, so many things he wanted to do. He gripped the man in his arm tighter.

Ajax kicked the door open, much to the surprise of Zhongli and his guests who watched as the large abyssal creature ducked to get through the doorway. Ajax dropped the claymore in the entrance way, letting the weapon clatter to the ground. He then shifted back, all but falling to his knees, Sulien’s still body rolling from his arms. Ajax slammed his hand into the ground as he tried to push himself back up.

“Help, help him please.” But he found himself unable to get up, breathing too unsteady, his own wounds catching up with him as the adrenalin was all but gone. Zhongli dropped his teacup, moving quickly he picked up Sulien, bringing him further into the house. At least Ajax could rest now, leaning his head against the hallway wall.

“Lumine, go get Baizhu please. Paimon, could you bring me the medical kit from the kitchen?” Zhongli lowered Sulien down onto the couch, pulling the fabric away from the wound the God grimaced. Lumine nodded, stepping over Ajax to get out the door as fast as she could. Paimon also listened, despite her small frame she managed to drag the medical kit into the living room. Zhongli peeled his gloves off and rolled up his sleeves as he tried to stop the flow of blood now staining his furniture.

-

“He should recover if he doesn’t get an infection. But do you think it is wise to treat Fatui? One less Harbinger may be-”

“I appreciate your concern, but Sandrone is a good friend no matter his occupation. He can’t help his work. Thank you for coming. Have a good night Baizhu.” Zhongli shut the door soon after and then returned to the living room. Sulien was asleep on the couch, a thin blanket covering his lower half while his torso was wrapped in multiple bandages. Ajax, meanwhile, was sitting on the ground, holding Sulien’s hand, head resting against the couch.

“They look kinda cute.” Paimon’s whisper was absolutely not a whisper, but at least she tried as she floated between Zhongli and Lumine, a smile on her face despite the fact it was two harbingers in front of her. She couldn’t know, there was no way for her to know what the two men in front of her have been through. Both alone and together. The scars could give her a hint. But that was it, and she was too naive to get it. And so to her, they were just bloodsoaked warriors who fought in the name of something she did not understand.

To Zhongli though, he’d seen this story play out thousands of times throughout history, and all he could muster was a frown, especially as his eyes traced the scars on Sulien's bare chest. As he retraced their previous conversations, he had first thought maybe it was Lumine. But as he watched the way Ajax nearly killed himself for the man. Zhongli sighed softly. What a tragic position to be in indeed.

“I’ll bring him home. Thank you for helping.” Ajax stood slowly, wincing at the pain he felt. He was in a bad state himself. Lumine held out the tattered coat, the black and navy fabric stained in hidden crimson. Ajax took it, wrapping it around Sulien before hoisting him up with a grunt. Sulien stirred in his arms but remained asleep. “I’ll pick up his claymore tomorrow.” Ajax couldn’t carry the weapon right now.

“Be safe.”

-

Sulien blinked at the ceiling of his bedroom. It was light outside, but the room was dark, the curtains drawn shut. His side hurt like hell, the events of what happened melding into his fragmented memory though, and he couldn’t quite recall at the moment. He felt weight shift in the bed beside him and he tensed immediately. There were very few he’d ever let close enough to him who-

“I know you’re sleeping but..” Ajax started with a soft sigh and Sulien promptly squeezed his eyes shut and evened out his breathing as if he were sleeping. “I think I know why you’ve been sick lately.. It’s the same reason why I’m sick.” Sulien wanted to furrow his brow as he quickly grew confused but opted to continue pretending he was asleep.

“I thought spending time with Lumine would take my mind off of you but it didn’t.” So he had been doing it on purpose. “Lumine is nice and all. But she’s not you.” Sulien could feel Ajax’s warm hand against his cold one, his long slender fingers playing with the scarred skin of Sulien’s hand. “I just don’t want to ruin the friendship we have if you don’t feel the same. So I tell you when you’re asleep like a coward.” Ajax sighed to himself. “This is so pathetic of me.” He mumbled.

“And then it’s my fault you’re hurt, they were my subordinates and my mission.” Ajax’s voice cracked and he didn’t even try to hide it. Though, Sulien supposed when you’re talking to somebody who is asleep, there’s nothing to hide. “All I do is fail you, what kind of friend am I? If I can’t even be a good friend, how am I supposed to be a good enough lover to tell you how I feel?” Ajax intertwined their fingers, but his touch was so hesitant. His hand was so warm, too.

“You say it all the time.. We’re just pawns in all of this.. This is one choice I have control over in this mess and yet I can’t even make it. You deserve so much more.” Ajax pulled his hand away and Sulien missed the comforting warmth. “You deserve somebody who can help heal those wounds, not.. A bloodthirsty monster like me. Whew, okay.. That helped. Good job Ajax.” Ajax mumbled to himself, a soft sigh of relief now that the weight was off of his chest.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Ajax sat up, dull eyes wide as he looked down at Sulien whose eyes were still closed. “I don’t really know how love is supposed to feel. But I think I feel it.” The man sighed, he didn’t know very much it would seem. “Could I have your hand back? I like how warm you are.” Sulien finally opened his eyes to Ajax staring at him, a range of emotions on the ginger’s face. Huh.. Had he always had that many freckles on his face? Cute.

“How much did you hear?!”

“All of it.” Ajax inhaled sharply, panic setting in. Sulien reached out, grabbing Ajax’s hand, warm. “You deserve somebody who understands the things they are feeling. And I’m not that. But I can try to learn..” Sulien cleared his throat, it hurt to speak but he couldn’t really remember the last time he had. He must have been hit pretty hard. “Te-” he hesitated, looking away from Ajax’s shocked expression and out the window. “Teach me.”

Ajax settled back down on the bed, intertwining their fingers once more. “Okay.. I’ll teach you.”

[capri-ramblings]

Yikes,I know there's bound to be questions but trust me, chapter 3 will answer most of them. Aha,I'm sorry if this chapter is kinda confusing at first,I'm not good at planning out thoughts or stories systemically,it kinda makes it harder for me to write whenever I try to. But here,the second chapter of Raptured! Thank you for reading! ( ꈍᴗꈍ) ♥️

[ R a p t u r e d ]

Chapter 2: Banter

In the moment Riddle had finished telling his brothers what conspired with their human captive, the first to speak up was Azul.

"They offered what?" His words were a mix of shock and amusement, gaze fixated on Riddle who seemed almost flustered from how red his cheeks were.

The red haired sighed, sending him a narrow eyed glare before crossing his arms.

"The head of their own brother"

"By their own hands?" Kalim asked aloud, his features scrunched up worryingly. "Isn't that bad? Why would anyone want to kill their own brother so suddenly?"

From the chaise across the room,Leona let out a scoff, lips upturned into a smirk.

"What are you? A five year old? If you give a herbivore the chance of freedom,they'd leave their entire fleet open to make sure they survive. Humans aren't so different."

"Indeed" Vil joined in with a smile of his own. "Humans are very fickle things, they live out their life struggling and as a result they stink of repulsion."

"They can barely even stand on their own.." Idia added thoughtfully and as the gazes of his brothers turned to him, the flames on his hair flickered and he looked away.

"Maybe the isolation's got to their head?"

Riddle let out a scoff, his lips upturned in a sneer almost too vicious to be formed on such a delicate looking face.

"The cottage they were in was secluded from the rest of the village,they were already a reclusive. Why should it bother them now?"

"Maybe Idia has a point" Kalim interjected then "Before they were on their own by choice...and they weren't exactly trapped in a tower either"

"It's all the same" Leona snapped " Damn herbivores will always be too fragile."

"Though, our soft-shelled brothers have a sound reason" Vil's lips curled in an effortless smile,his ever sharp gaze glinting like jewels.

"At this rate our small hare is going to die before the homage from her brother, and that makes all of this pointless."

The room went silent then. Each males having their own thoughts wrapped around the situation.

When they came to a decision to face the hunter who killed their family beast, he was nowhere to be seen and left tending to his cottage was none other than their captive human, a young sibling unaware of what their fool brother had committed. They opted it was easier to simply kidnap them and have their brother come looking since neither one of them wanted to wait around. There was also the fact that the death of the beast had affected their Mother's health greatly, and all seven brothers fumed with rage.

"Our methods doesn't matter anymore" Riddle spoke up, "What's done is done. We can't exactly just put them back where we found them."

"I agree" Azul said "Though if the human dies in our care now, when we're fully able to change their situation, I fear the price of that loss would be great."

"What? Are the humans going to chase us around with pitchforks?" Leona sneered,his sharp fangs visible as he leaned back into the chaste. "You saw how further in their cottage was, chances are the herbivore doesn't even go down to the village often enough for people to notice them missing."

"They can't die." Idia drawled the words out this time,his gaze sharp and harsh as he stared down Leona who all but grinned at his brother.

"Why? Because you like them?" The laugh that barked out from Leona was cruel and Idia flinched.

"Go ahead and save the poor herbivore then,Prince Idia of the lands of burrowed moles. You think they'd ever look at you fondly?"

"Enough." Riddle came between the fight with his own ire and before he sent a glare towards Leona, he let Idia catch the solace in his.

The situation was getting worst. They needed a decision quick.

"You're not a five year old as well,Leona, so keep that tongue of yours tamed"

"What are you? Suddenly playing the role of the Eldest when you can't even reach his height?" Leona scrutinized Riddle with an aggression that seemed ready to claw him in the face, but Riddle kept his own spite and promptly choose to ignore his brother.

Instead,he turned to Azul.

"The hunter should've came back and see his sibling gone, you even sent those eels of yours to make sure he got the hints. Why hasn't he made a single move? It's been two months."

"Maybe he's forgetful?" Kalim chipped in, eyes glowing. Riddle wanted to tap the side of his face and gently tell him to shut up but Vil patted his head instead.

"A forgetful hunter managing to kill a wild beast is unlikely, mein bruder"

Azul crossed his arms,gaze narrowing.

"They've sent word that they have information regarding our human and the whereabouts of their brother"

"And?" Vil prompted.

"I told them to come meet us as soon as they can, which shouldn't be long."

The moment those words were uttered, a dull thud came from the would-be-entrance of the tower, and a familiar voice calling out.

"My Princes! Open the door please!" The urgency of the voice had all the present Princes turning their head, though the one who seemed genuinely surprised and concerned was Kalim.

"That voice..." He said, turning to Azul "Is that who I think it is?"

Azul's lips curled into a knowing smile and with a flick of his fingers, the sound of a door being swung opened then slammed shut could be heard within the tower itself,followed by light rapid footsteps approaching them.

Out of breath and desperately panting, a young girl made a hasty bow as she came before the Princes, though the way her legs slightly trembled suggested that she was near collapsing.

"It is her!" Kalim's eyes grew wide with familiarity, the worry in his voice replaced with joy as he came up to place his hand on the girl's shoulder.

"The last time I saw you, you were still learning how to walk!" Kalim's loud voice seemed to make her flinch but the girl met his gaze with warmth before she bowed her head again.

"Pleasure to meet you again,Prince Kalim." She's heard stories of him, the Prince Fae known to give out bits of his treasures to those who come wishing at his well. It seemed odd to act as if she's known him, but she knew better than to put logic before courtesy. He was one of the seven Princes after all. Acting too smart with them was a fool's mistake.

Before Kalim could say anything else, Azul stepped forward and the girl promptly met his side with a suddenly serious demeanor.

"I'd ask you for the information I had you fetch but I wonder why you were running in the first place?"

The girl laughed dryly if not nervously.

"Floyd wanted to see who could win in a race in getting here,your Highness."

Azul frowned, internally sighing.

"Why on Earth did you agree to that?"

Again, the girl laughed. "He terrifies me,my Prince."

Riddle couldn't place where he's met her, but hearing her words had him internally sympathising her. Azul's leeches were a pair he'd gladly avoid for eternity as well.

"So,you got a changeling to be at your beck and call as well,Azul?" Vil sounded amused as he turned to Azul, but the degrading glance he gave the girl bellied the smile coyly sitting on his lips then.

"She's indebted to us anyway" Azul stated simply "Why not put her to work?"

His gaze returned to the girl.

"What do you have about our human then?"

It took a full ten minutes for the young changeling to inform them of what she's managed to compile on their human and hunter. Turns out they aren't related by blood but by marriage. Apparently most of the villagers knew of the hunter but rarely saw the younger sibling as they took more liking in staying indoors. There was also talk that their relationship with one another was never close and answered Riddle's question as to why he hadn't showed up yet.

"So, he's just going to leave his sibling at our mercy?" Kalim asked,he had his expression scrunched up with worry and pity again but Leona shared none of it and only growled with distaste.

"There won't be mercy if they're left with us a second longer"

Riddle caught the flicker of Idia's flames and instantly reacted.

"Threaten to murder our captive one more time and I'll have your head,Leona."

"Hah, you're trying to scare me,Riddle?" Leona sneered,fangs glistening with malice. He's been irritated by the whole situation since the beginning. Taking in a human in hopes that another would appear to save them, it was all a damn fairytale. Leona knew humans were selfish, his brothers should've had that piece of common sense drilled into their heads as well. No one was going to play hero for their captive.

Riddle gritted his teeth and again instead of lashing out senselessly, he swirled around to face the changeling. Every bit of his anger flaring in his grey gaze.

"Where's the hunter now?" He asked,though it sounded painfully like a death threat.

The changeling bowed her head.

"He's at the human King's palace,Prince Riddle. King Aothor ...of Nostorne"

The words sent the entire room tilting, and Riddle would've gripped her by her neck if Azul hadn't stepped forward.

"King? Since when did the humans have a King?" The last time they came to the world,their mother's shrine was built almost everywhere to acknowledge her ruling. Had times changed so drastically since their absence?

"Yes. It's been this way for years now. A dukedom raised after Her Most Divine's departure from the human realm and ever since then a lineage of human nobles have taken the throne as the Human ruler."

"My, how futuristic, and here we were in the guise that we still sat on the top of their world" Vil was laughing but his words cut into the tension of the room like a blade coated in venom and the changeling girl shifted uncomfortably.

"It seems like the order of the slaughtering was made by him and ultimately fulfilled by the hunter. His name is Cyril and he's being celebrated by the King for his bravery."

Leona heaved a heavy sigh,leaning once more into his chaise. He looked ready to fall into a deep slumber already but his irritation kept him awake.

"So,we have information. Now what's the plan?"

***

Jade and Floyd,two of Azul's trusted companions came into the situation while the Princes were sorting out their thoughts and opinions (Which all greatly contradict one another) and brought word that their hunter had refused to save their sibling in a conversation Jade overheard him had with another hunter right before he was called on by the King.

"He said he knew of the Fae's trick and that by taking something of theirs as his own, he'd gladly give anything they took from him as compensation." Jade explained in his usual matter-of-fact tone,his mismatched gaze still and knowing.

Riddle clicked his tongue, brows furrowing. Idia's was the most sympathetic along with Kalim while Leona and Vil seemed ready to send a fleet of their army to storm into the human villages.

"I'm not really surprised though" Floyd spoke up lazily "He seems like a guy who'd do that kind of thing anyways"

"But now the Princes are stuck with keeping a human captive in their care", Boe,the young changeling from earlier, pointed out grimly.

"What if we sent you to negotiate with him in our stead?" Idia suggested which earned a rather hasty look from the girl.

"Human royals don't take too kindly to my kind,Prince Idia. I doubt he'd even let me enter"

Leona let out a menacing growl. One that reverberated through the tower walls.

"This is going nowhere. Riddle, go up to that damn herbivore and have them beg their brother come and pay his homage so we can give them back."

Riddle frowned.

"You heard the changeling,Leona. If their relationship with their brother is as bad as we've heard, do you really think they'd beg for him to come save them?"

"Couldn't you talk some sense in them?" Azul had eyes turning once more to the young changeling who all but reluctantly slumped her shoulders.

"I don't see how me being the one talking will get them to cooperate..."

"Clamshell,you should at least try,right?" Floyd's smile was sickly sweet and when he attempted to sling his arm over her shoulders, she avoided the outcome by shifting close to Jade.

"What would you want me to say to them?"

"The offer they gave" Riddle said "Have them elaborate more on that. I'm not going into a deal without knowing why it was proposed in the first place."

There was hesitation in her eyes but it was swiftly changed to a silent resolve as she nodded her head.

"I'll see what I can do."