#(and of course the prey who trusts them enough to hold back that instinct)

[mmmleckerlecker]

feeling some type of way about being curled safely in a stomach where you can feel the love and warmth and protection of the pred surrounding you but even so, the stomach you’re in is like a wild beast and you can still hear it growling and whining for you. you can feel the way it kneads impatiently into you, wanting to tear into you and reduce you to nothing. but the only reason it hasn’t is simply because your pred said, “no. this one is mine. not yours. stand down.” and the stomach obeys. it holds you right in its center and goes against its every instinct, merely because your pred would rather hold you tenderly within them and keep you safe from the rest of the world than give in and let you get hurt

[kuruasu]

You have inflicted me with visions and thus I must return them. Enjoy.

.

Get iron. Find someone alone. Kill them quickly. This is the mantra Scott whispers to himself, struggling to think past the bloodthirst of the curse and the tick tick tick of precious time slipping away.

Technically speaking, he doesn't have to rush. He has hours before the boogeyman decides he's failed and takes the penalty, but that's hours of people working together, forming trust that could be betrayed or teams that could defend each other or hunt for revenge. Better to do it fast, when there's no deep emotional investment yet, nothing to really lose.

Tango, Impulse, and Skizz are all together when Scott finds them, but they're easily trusting so early on. Skizz eyes his shield and Impulse warily calls his iron axe menacing, but they just as quickly brush it off to ask if he's seen any cows.

They split up with barely any prompting, and then Scott has Skizz alone.

"Life is short," Skizz says, and he almost laughs at the irony. The curse roars in his ears, and he can practically taste how easy this is, axe and shield in hand, standing above an unarmed, unarmored, utterly alone Skizz.

Standing above, his common sense whispers, because you're on the bank, and he's in the river.

That breaks through the red haze and makes Scott hesitate. The riverbank is wet enough to squelch under his shoes, but while he's still nice and dry, Skizz is in the river, water lapping almost waist deep as he steadies the boat holding the cow.

Surrounded by water. Dripping with it.

He hesitates, instincts split between longing and fear, but he knows this is the best chance he has. The others won't be gone for long.

"You gotta live to the fullest," Skizz says, not even looking up, "and murdering isn't part of it!"

The curse pulls at him, and Scott steeles himself; he'll just have to be careful.

"Well for some people, murdering is."

He raises his axe.

"Sorry."

Skizz turns fast enough to catch the first blow on an arm. He yells, reaching for his pick, but Scott is quicker and the next blow slams right into his throat. The curse surges at the blood spraying from the wound, and Scott can't help the twisted grin as he strikes his prey.

Skizz buckles, something like betrayal in his fading eyes as he splashes into the water. Scott pants, adrenaline and bloodthirst and red red red all twisting together into crimson satisfaction.

"There we go," He murmurs as the body vanishes back to spawn. He can feel his lifeline grow longer with stolen time. He can feel the frantic ache of knives in his soul drain away as the boogeyman leaves him.

He can feel water on his leg, from where Skizz splashed him.

The lingering haze vanishes in a rush of clarity, and he has a split second to think oh no before it hits.

His skin itches, the feeling of wetness spreading in an instant to engulf him in the sensation of being underwater, of being made of water. Bubbles course through him as his magic reaches a tipping point and surges, flesh and bone nothing more than malleable water flowing with the current. Water, boiling to vapor and coalescing to liquid and finally freezing back into a solid form, and gravity reasserts itself on a body that can no longer stand and he slams into the ground.

For a second he just breathes, uncaring of the water dripping off of him. The transformation always leaves him shaky for a minute if it happens on dry land, and he hates the feeling of vulnerability.

Vulnerability that's now a thousand times worse, in a death game. A weakness that leaves him helpless to anyone who wants to use it against him.

Anyone who knows.

He pushes himself up and looks over the hill with fear. Skizz's death message must've pinged the chat by now, and the others will be coming back to him; if not for revenge or information, then at the very least for the cow still mooing a few feet away.

They'd see him. They'd see the claws and fangs, the webbing between his fingers, the finned ears and thick gills. They'd see the tail, long and shimmering with blue and green scales and wide white fins. They'd see him.

They'd know.

He has to escape.

The river, mer instinct whispers, water is safe, water is home, but the river leads to a pond a short distance away, and the source of the waterfall is a hole too small to swim through.

He has to change back.

There's only one way to get dry quickly enough, and Scott winces in anticipation. Mers come in threes, after all, and he isn't the one that can blast water into vapor or make it flow off his scales and back into the river. Instead he reaches for it, for that sense of water on him, around him, and bids it to freeze.

Frost crackles as ice spreads, freezing into sheets over his scales. Cold doesn't really bother Scott, not like it used to, before, but it's still painful as shards dig into his skin and icicles form in his hair. He glances at the hill as he shatters the ice and shakes it off. There's no time to get it all off, but while ice may be water it's dry, and with his power keeping it from melting, it stays that way for long enough.

His skin feels papery and chapped and desert dry, fins and scales itching like they're covered in dust. Bubbles burst under his skin, like he's trying to rehydrate himself from the inside out, and his magic surges once more. He's water again, wisping to vapor and falling to liquid and freezing to solid. Scott gasps and shakily stands on two legs, looking around in case anyone saw.

He's alone.

He's safe.

He's not safe, actually, not yet. Not while Impulse and Tango and anyone else nearby is on their way. Not while he's in a death game with a constantly ticking clock.

Not while he still has ice in his hair.

He can make somewhere secure enough to fully dry out, but he needs legs to do it. Keeping the ice from melting while in human form is tiring, but he can handle it.

He has to.

Scott trudges up the hill just as Tango comes screeching down it, Martyn not far behind.

He's cured, he has an extra hour, and no one saw him transformed. Whatever happens from now on, he'll take that as a win.

limited life scott working on h2o mermaid mechanics. hello. can anybody hear me

[harveywritings92]

BNHA Vampire soulmate au: they feed off you for the first time.

They explain to you how blood tastes to them and enjoy a meal... 

Tw: Blood drinking, heavy petting

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Hawks: It's been a year you and Keigo seem to be together, you've been talking about moving in together anywho, You got a paper cut and Keigo who was crashing at your placed smelled it from your living room, he nearly gave you a heart attack when you turned around to see him standing behind you, his gold eyes had red tinge as he eyed your finger like a like man who hasn't eaten in a week. "Ey, there I thought you've already had enough to drink today?" you were referring to the black and red sports bottle he'd brought with him. "I did, It's just- You have no Idea how hard I've been holding back, your blood it does something to me..." Keigo husked eyes locked on the crimson nectar dripping down your hand he was salivating and swallowed hard. "My blood...does it smell good?" you asked timidly.

The blond snapped out of his trance. "Petal, you smell like ripe strawberries and chocolate to me..." Keigo has already told you how smoker's blood smells and taste to him, well you now you were curious about non-smokers, and asked if blood type also has an effect on the blood's flavor? the winged vamp was happy to answer! 

Smokers: Charcoal/moldy bread.

Drunks: depends on how drunk they are, it's somewhere between hard soda and hard wine or liquor.

Drug users: no idea, he says they smell like rotten eggs, and he's seen how loopy other vamps act after feeding on them and stays clear of them.

Sick/injured: He stays away from sick people but they smell like a cross between a hospital or a funeral home.

Virgins: sweet/tart like fruit-punch.

regular folks: like Sangria the fruitiness is still there but it's mixed with bitter wine . 

"Blood types don't really change up the flavors, but I've noticed type As have a spice to them, Bs start off sour, and type Os are pretty mellow." You hummed very intrigued at what you were hearing then, noticed Keigo was still eyeing your finger, like a starved animal, you looked down at the cut then back Keigo and noticed his wings were tense and he was clenching his jaw, after some thought you sighed you held your hand out to him. "Go head before your jaw breaks" His wings bristled. "I'm not some desperate leech y'know." he huffed you shrugged and went to went to put a band-aid on, but Keigo stopped you.

"Let's not be hasty here..."  He stammered out at you cocked a brow at him. "Yer really giving me mixed signals here." you huffed did he want your blood or not? " Um... Are you sure about this?" he said blush adoring his cheeks. "I'm just letting you suck my finger...Why are you acting like I just asked you to pop my cherry?" Keigo's face was as red as a cherry as you said this. "Because you essenually are..." He explained the big difference between mates and prey, on instinct he wouldn't give a crap about some rando he picked up off the street or whatever mystery pack the commission gives him, but you... 

You're his soulmate, his fated one... and right now your pretty much telling him to make you his! He's not gonna stop at your finger, once he's had a taste he's going for your neck! And once he bites you that's it, you have his mark forever, You paused absorbing what the blond male just told you...Well, he hardly leaves you alone already might as well go all in? "Do it." Hawks's eyes were red now. "Come" he hissed sitting across from you and gesturing to sit in his lap.

You complied and watched Keigo warily as he brought your finger to his mouth, immediately you felt a shock go through you the second Keigo's tongue started lapping at the cut, he moaned tasting your blood for the first time. He was right you tasted every bit as sweet as he thought you would...*more...more...* his monster groaned euphorically he felt the cut on your finger close from his saliva's healing properties.

Keigo's eyes drifted towards your neck, You gasp feeling his grip on your hand tighten before his free hand found it's way behind your head, you tensed seeing Keigo's fangs elongate but before he could pierce your neck he smelled your distress.

His rough hold on you suddenly slacked and his hands lowered to your hips his thumbs gently rubbed you sides as he left little kisses and nip along your jaw before you calmed down enough to trust Hawks wasn't gonna tear your throat out. "Just relax." he cooed kissing you neck a couple more times like a countdown. one...two... three! 

You tried not to scream as you felt his fangs pierce your neck, your fingers gripped his jacket as you felt yourself be drained... then like a switch had been slowly tuned the pain tuned into pleasure? moans started sneaking their out from your mouth which confused you, the blond vampire groaned in ecstasy at how rich your blood tasted with lust mixed in he buck his hips against you, after what seemed like hours Keigo's fangs finally retracted from your flesh and lap at the two holes he left on your neck, they sealed as you whimpered weakly Keigo just shushed and you. "It's alright kid, you did good" he cooed kissing your head as you started drifting out of consciousness.   

When you woke up your head was pounding like a bad hangover Keigo was cradling you in his lap looking relieved and sheepish, he explained he went a little overboard with his drinking and venom dosing and you got drunk on him and passed out! you must've looked panicked cos Keigo assured you were completely fine, the venom isn't lethal... (To you anyways, one of the benefits of being a vampire's soulmate.) Though you might be a bit feverish and cranky for the next couple days.  

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Dabi: You were on your period so yes Dabi's self restraint was breaking! you had no fucking idea what you blood was doing to him you smelled like a 5 star meal and all he could do was sit and drown in his own drool and watch you, like a hawk as you moaned and groaned about  cramps and ruining your pajama shorts when you woke up this morning! a low growl escaped the faux raven haired vamp when he saw you toss out a bag with said aforementioned shorts, it took every nerve in him not to run after the garbage truck like a starved dog! before something you said snapped him out of his trance. "hn...What ya say?" he looked at you drinking his third pack of cow's blood.

"I asked if my blood smells good and what does it taste like?"

"I wouldn't know haven't tasted yours yet..."

"Well, what about anyone else's?" 

"Why are you suddenly interested?"

You huffed "Sorry for wanting to know you..." and were about to tell him to forget it, when the the undead cremator spoke up. "Mocha mixed wit' something spicy like cinnamon or rum" he muttered not looking at you. Of course you cocked a brow now intrigued, now that that was out of the bag he might as well tell ya the rest. 

Smokers: burnt rubber/earwax (eh, everyone was a kid once, had to know what that gunky crap in your ear tasted like.)

Drunks: Depends on how much they've drank, it could between hard water to straight up red wine.

Drug users: the one time he fed on one he thought they were just a pothead, but in turned out they had ate a few shrooms which made them kinda taste like... orange juice and black liquorice?... Honestly he can't give a straight answer, as he was too busy trippin out on another plain of existence to remember.  

Sick/injured: doesn't feed off the sick, but they smell like a hospital or a morgue.

Virgins: like apples and honey

Regular folks: they taste like Apple cider. 

Animal blood: kinda tastes like artificial cherry cough syrup, and he hates it!

"Then why do you drink it?" you gulped seeing his cerulean eyes flash red for a brief second as he locked eyes with you. "Why?...*growl* your standing in front of me smelling like a walking buffet and you have to gall ask me why I drinking this crap?!" he snapped crushing the blood pack in his hand as you started backing away, you were nervous that only fueled Dabi's sadistic side you learned early that he enjoyed agitating you via flashing his fangs, popping behind you out of seemingly nowhere, and faking you out.

I.E. making it seem like he was gonna bite you then blow air in your ears before walking away laughing at your reaction, something about putting you on edge and having your adrenaline pumping through your veins adds more "spice" to your scent, it happens so often that Dabi started noticing arousal was mixing in with your fear, you bet your ass he started mocking you for getting off on him scaring you. 

Of course right now you weren't sure if he was seriously mad, or making fun of you again? He was not making fun of you again he was seriously pissed off, The nerve of you walking around asking him about useless crap, and offering him nothing in return! Dabi had you backed against a wall face buried in your shoulder you felt him sniffing you and flinched you felt him nipping along your neck, and like all the other times he's riled you he smelled that that little speck of arousal through the fear. 

He let out a low chuckle causing you to to become fed up, you though he was screwing with you again! "Goddamm-.hm!" You were cut off by sharp yelp as Dabi's fang suddenly pierced your neck! oh god it hurt! you whimpered tried shoving Dabi off! he groaned pushing your back against the wall, suddenly your body felt weird... you moaned it was hot and and everything felt sensitive...

You barely registered Dabi lifting your legs up you instinctively wrapped them around his hips, he let out a low purr and his demeanor became less angry and forceful, his shoulders relaxed as his hands gently rubbed your legs, after what seemed like hours Dabi finally pulled away from your neck lapping at the pin holes he left on, he checked on you only to find you passed out his eye had a rare tenderness to them as he eyed your flushed appearance. "Well aren't you high maintenance." he cooed his thumb caressing you chin before taking you to bed.   

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

Bakugou: He didn't want say what you smelled like to him as it made him look soft, he finally cracks after more poking a prodding. "If I fucking do will you shut up and let me sleep?!" he hissed it was 8: 47 p.m. and he was tired which confused you, the sun was still out and you could hear kids playing in the streets outside. You heard a angry growl Katsuki's ears were pink. "S'mores...you smell like S'mores, happy?" he groaned when you started shaking him, no point in trying to sleep now that he's lit the fuse! He gave you the sum up of what blood tastes like to him.

Smokers: old news paper and figs.

Drug users: No clue stays clear of them, they smell like pickled eggs.

Drunks: Somewhere between hard water and flavored vodka.

Virgins: Why would you want to kno-... arhg! Coffee and vanilla!

Regular folks: Irish coffee and bitter mint.

Then you you started asking about blood types and what it was when he drank, Next thing you knew Katsuki let out this frustrated bellow! You yelped as he grabbed your wrists and pinned you under him. "You wanna know what it feels like?" you sheepishly mumbled a meek "yes" but the blonds red eyes narrowed. "Hah? say that again I couldn't hear ya?" he jeered trying to get you to use your voice, you repeated "Yes" again a bit more forceful as the ash blond unbuttoned the shirt he let you borrow exposing your neck to him. 

Katsuki frowned he could smell your reluctance, then grumbled in annoyance as he recalled Shitty-hair's advice ""Take it slow, be gentle..."" He took a deep breath and carefully buried his face in you neck, You flinched expecting him to clamp down, giving how much you annoyed him, but to your surprise; Katsuki instead opted to started leaving kisses along your jaw and collar bone.

You bit back a moan when he found you sweet spot and causing Katsuki to smirk if wasn't so hungry and tired right now, he might've taken this much farther, but the mouthwatering scent of your blood calling him was too much to pass up. "I'm gonna do it" he husked as you nodded and with that, Katsuki's fangs pierced your neck.

You gasped in pain felling them puncture your skin as Katsuki grasped your hand, the blond groaned in euphoria your blood tasted every bit as rich and sweet as he thought it would, he could smell your discomforted and on instinct inject a doses of his venom into your bloodstream in minutes your blood's flavor intensified with added lust, your tiny moans and whimpers were music to his hears, soon his instincts were warning him stop.

Katsuki's fangs retracted he lapped at the punctures he left on your neck, before pulling away to look at you and snorted you were a flushed out mess. "That sate your curiosity?" he huffed fixing your shirt you tried to say something but were too exhausted to say anything tangible, the ash blond chuckled and settled down next to you for the night.   

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[pixy-stix-art]

This is my gift to @crystalk17 for the MCYT G/T content exchange!!!

I fell in love with this prompt (because it’s a favorite trope of mine) so I really hope you enjoy your story! I used Ranboo and Tubbo for this so hopefully that ok! And I had to add noms because you said that was ok. So I hope you enjoy! This is probably the longest fic I’ve ever written.

Prompt Used: “Anything with a predator and prey situation. Like preds and prey, cat and mouse, basically the unlikely friends situation.”

(Warnings: safe vore, swearing.)

———————————————————————

Ranboo was a black and white cat hybrid. And somehow Tuboo, who was a small brown mouse hybrid claimed Ranboo as his friend. Not caring how dangerous Ranboo was to him. Ranboo would obviously never hurt Tuboo, or any other hybrid. But it was very uncommon for a mouse to be seen happily hanging out with a cat.

“You sure you want to do this?” Ranboo asked his much smaller friend.

“Yep!” Tubbo nodded excitedly. “It’ll be fun!”

Ranboo shook his head. He had meant for the suggestion to be a joke. And of course Tubbo had took it seriously. Tubbo was being annoying as always trying to get Ranboo to play and chase him. Ranboo playfully pushed Tubbo away saying he wouldn’t stand a chance if he decided to actually chase after the mouse. Tubbo, being Tubbo took that as a challenge.

“You actually want me to chase you and hunt you down?” Ranboo was baffled by how Tubbo didn’t seem scared of the idea. He imagined it would be scary to have a giant cat run after you. Even if that cat was your friend.

“Yes!” Tubbo flicked his big brown ears in excitement.

Ranboo knowing the little mouse wasn’t going to give up on this. “Fine, I’ll do it.” Ranboo cut off Tubbo’s cheers. “Only if you tell me if it gets to much. Have a code word, or something.” He suggested.

“You want a safe word?” Tubbo asked confused why that would need that.

Ranboo continued. “I don’t actually want to scare you, so if you scream a random word, I’ll know to back off.”

Tubbo thought about it. It wasn’t a horrible idea. Though he didn’t see himself needing it. “Ok, the word will be… pancake!” He shouted.

“Pancake?” Ranboo questioned tilting his head to the side.

“Yes pancake.” Tubbo nodded satisfied with his word choice.

“Ok fine. Pancake it is then. But, if I win I want something.” Ranboo added.

“Oh? Now you want something?” Tubbo asked rolling his eyes.

“Yep!” Ranboo grinned smugly.

“Do I get to know what that something is?” Tubbo asked looking up at the cat.

“No, but you should start running soon.” He smiled.

“W-what?!” Tubbo squeaked.

“One, two….” Ranboo started counting.

“That’s so rude ya dick!” Tubbo shouted running off to hide.

Ranboo shook his head at his friend before getting up. He always made sure to keep his instincts in control. Especially around Tubbo. But now he lets that part of his brain take over as he begin to hunt Tubbo.

Tubbo knew this wasn’t going to be easy to win. But this also wasn’t the first time he had to run away from a cat. He made lots of turns getting out of sight as quickly as possible. He ducked under a book shelf to catch his breath. He looked out worried that he didn’t see Ranboo. Where did he go?

Ranboo stayed close to the ground sniffing the air. He smirked knowing where Tubbo was. He knew his friends scent by heart. He jumped up onto the couch to wait for Tubbo to grow board and come out.

Tubbo hadn’t seen Ranboo in a few minutes. He was a little worried. He slowly crept out from his hiding spot. His tail curled around himself as he looked around. He stepped out all the way from under the shelves. “What? Where are you?” He mumbled.

Ranboo tensed up getting ready to jump as Tubbo came out all the way. He smiled pouncing down next to Tubbo.

Tubbo screamed as Ranboo came out of nowhere and landed next to him. He ran off in another direction. Squeaking madly.

Ranboo let Tubbo run for a second before chasing after him. He was just about to reach him but then he hit his head. He fell to the ground hissing at the pain. He had been so focused on Tubbo he ran right into the couch.

Tubbo ran under the couch knowing Ranboo was right behind him. He gasped as he heard a loud thunk sound, tuning around to see Ranboo holding his head. He laughed putting together what happened. “Still think I’m a easy catch?!” He shouted at the cat.

Ranboo huffed looking under the couch at the smug mouse. He got up and quickly tried to swipe at him. He wasn’t close enough. He growled softly pacing around the couch.

Tubbo gasped as Ranboo tried to get him. But thankfully he was far enough back that he couldn’t be reached. He let out a shaky breath as he heard Ranboo growl. He was a little nervous now.

He watched carefully as Ranboo paced around the couch. He had to time this right, or he’d get caught way to easily. He quietly snuck over to the opposite end of the couch, and the second Ranboo was on the other side he took off running on all fours.

Ranboo gasped as he saw Tubbo dart out from under the couch. He jumped across the couch heading straight for him. Tubbo took lots of twist n turns but couldn’t find another good hiding spot. He could tell Tubbo was getting tired.

Tubbo wasn’t going to win this one he knew that now. He turned seeing Ranboo was right behind him. He tried to quickly turn, but ended up sliding across the floor, softly hitting the wall. He couldn’t get back up to run anymore.

Ranboo gasped worriedly as Tubbo hit the wall and not get up. He quickly went over to him to make sure he was ok. “Tubbo…?” He questioned. He gently poked Tubbo trying to get him to move. “You ok?”

Tubbo huffed as Ranboo poked at him. He swatted at the finger. “Fuck off.” He was exhausted now.

Ranboo smiled soft seeing Tubbo was ok. “You still think that was fun?” He asked a teasing tone to his voice.

“I- yes actually that was fun.” He rarely got to run around like that. Getting all that extra energy out was nice. But he was tired and needed a place to rest….

“Well, I’m glad you did enjoy it. It was actually fun.” Ranboo gently scooped up Tubbo from the ground. He held him to his chest. He walked over to the couch to sit down. He curled his fingers up around Tubbo resting his thumb on Tubbo’s chest. He could feel how fast his heart was going. It remind Ranboo of a hummingbird.

Tubbo curled up in Ranboo’s hand. Nuzzling the cats fingers.

Ranboo hummed looking down at Tubbo. “You remember when I said I got something if I won?” He smiled softly gently fidgeting with Tubbo’s tail.

Tubbo groaned rolling away from Ranboo. “What do you want?” He asked annoyed.

Ranboo brought Tubbo up closer to his face. “I want to eat you.” He purred.

Most mice would panic at a cat telling them that. But not Tubbo. He smiled looking at Ranboo. “That’s what you wanted? You could’ve just asked big guy.” He laughed.

“Yeah, but this was funner.” Ranboo nuzzled Tubbo with his nose. “Soooo…. Can I eat you?” He asked.

“Yes, you can.” Tuboo agreed not even having to think about it. You see this wasn’t the first time they had done this. It was a common thing between the two. Tubbo got to cuddle with Ranboo, and Ranboo got he keep Tubbo safe. Plus it satisfied his instincts.

Ranboo purred more at the answer. He wasted no time popping the small mouse into his mouth. He curled his tongue around Tubbo as he closed his mouth.

Tubbo laughed at how quickly he was eaten. He sighed relaxing as the long tongue curled around him. The sharp teeth clicked close behind him.

Ranboo enjoyed Tubbo’s taste a lot. It was savory and just a little sweet. He leaned back on the couch closing his eyes and he licked over Tubbo pushing him around in his mouth. Carefully chewing on him a little.

Tubbo knew how terrifying this would be if this was any other cat. But this was Ranboo, and he trusted him. He playfully pushed against the tongue pushing him around. He didn’t have enough energy to fight as much as he normally would. He gasped softly as he felt his tail got lightly chewed on. There was never any fear though.

Ranboo hummed happily as he gently sucked on Tubbo. He was so glad Tubbo trusted him enough to be able to do this. He pushed Tubbo to the back of his mouth seeing if he was ready.

Tubbo went limp as he felt himself slip back. He patted Ranboo’s tongue. “I’m ready.”

Ranboo swallowed after hearing Tubbo say he was ready. He pressed his fingers against his throat as he felt the small form slip deeper down past his collar bone.

Tubbo stayed as still as possible as he was swallowed. It wasn’t his favorite part, always seeming to take too long. Though it couldn’t be more then a couple seconds. Finally he fell into a more open space. Ranboo’s storage stomach. He crawled around finding the best spot to curl up at.

Ranboo purred louder feeling Tubbo move around in his storage stomach. He placed his hands over where he felt Tubbo moving, softly pushing at him. “You ok?” He asked making sure.

“Ya, I’m fine. You don’t have to check every time.” Tubbo rolled his eyes. He leaned against where he felt a soft pressure pushing at him.

“I know, but I just want to make sure you’re ok.”He rubbed at Tubbo a little.

“You worry too much.” Tubbo teased pushing against the silky wall.

“And you worry too little.” Ranboo replied. He simply rested his hands over his stomach.

Tubbo rolled his eyes huffing. He curled up in a good spot wrapping his tail around himself. “I’m going to fall asleep…” He mumbled. “It’s so cozy.”

“Rest then. I’m sure you’re tired from running around like that.” Ranboo spoke softly. This was perfect for them. Tubbo got to rest and Ranboo, not being tired from the chase could go about his day.

“Ok.” He yawned. The warmth added with a feeling of being completely protected by his favorite person, let him easily fall asleep.

Ranboo stood up, being mindful of his small passenger. He went to go work on some school work as Tubbo rested. He wouldn’t let anything get to Tubbo, he had him close as possible. His mouse was safe.

[kodzumie-archived]

❝YANDERE❞

Synopsis; What they’d be like as yanderes.

Featuring; Kokichi Oma, Mikan Tsumiki, and Nagito Komaeda x GN! Reader

Warning(s); Yandere themes, manipulation, gaslighting, drugging, somnophilia, stalking, nonconsensual photographs, worship, masturbation, and sacrilege. (These are pretty long headcanons/imagines!)

➤ KOKICHI OMA

⤷ To his very core, he’s a cunning, paradoxical individual. Kokichi derives from fantastical ideals; daydreams of a world in which his interest remains piqued.

⤷ He hates boredom, such emotion is merely viewed as unforgivable in his eyes. And he’ll do all that he can to ensure he’s enjoying himself; to ensure he’s entertained.

⤷ So, as to be expected, he’s enamored for all that is able to provide him such recreation. Thus why he began to develop the buddings of interest towards you; you kept him on the tips of his toes, eager with anticipation.

⤷ But he wouldn’t push forth and pursue after the claim of your heart through confession.

⤷ Why? That’d be too boring, of course! Confronting you with an admission of how he feels towards you would be nothing short of monotonous. Much too bland for the tastes of an Ultimate Supreme Leader such as himself.

⤷ And what would be more fascinating other than watching the gradual rupture of the human mind? Especially the mind of the one who held his heart captive.

⤷ Thus the game of cat and mouse had commenced, caging you in the cycle of a game you never wanted to be a part of; all to entertain the one who claims to adore you. But you wouldn’t believe that. Nobody would. He’s a liar, through and through.

⤷ Kokichi is as deceitful as a bat is blind. His sly nature proving to be merely his asset in order to conquer over you as his pawn.

⤷ He’ll wreak his havoc over you. Instinctively, he’ll begin with your mind, toying with all that you believed and knew in order to tug the rug beneath your feet.

⤷ He promises that he truly does love you and cares for you beyond anything else. But with his reputation, it’s nearly criminal to believe the lies that spill from his mouth; you should know this, he doesn’t care for you. It’s lies, lies, lies!

⤷ But Kokichi knows just how you think, an invasion of privacy to the encompass of your thoughts as he plagues every inkling of doubt.

⤷ His behavior towards you differs from the others; from everyone, either of you knows. And you can see it too, he makes sure you’re aware of it.

⤷ He makes sure you’re aware and acknowledges the sheer contrast of tone when conversing with you in favor of others. To you, his words hold a playfulness that’s comparable to being juvenile; boyish.

⤷ If anything, his banter with you could be described as soft. Well, as soft as Kokichi could ever be associated and described as.

⤷ But you’re aware of how the sharp daggers of playful insults are with that of a dull blade, merely a poke in good fun. Yet with others, his words possess an animalistic, carnivorous bite.

⤷ You knew that he sought to submerge himself under the skin of others, irritating them to the point of grit teeth and yanking of their hair, tugging their scalp raw.

⤷ However, you began to believe those weren’t his intentions with you. Dare you say that perhaps Kokichi didn’t view you as the prey to his jabs, but rather as someone he’d prefer to expose his care towards.

⤷ It warmed your heart, these assumptions of yours. And thus you believed them; you believed the wholesome thoughts that the young male truly did enjoy your presence and valued you.

⤷ You believed what brought you the most comfort, and perhaps that was where you were fatally mistaken.

⤷ As soon as the belief that he cared for you had sunk into your mind, he’d escaped your clutches of familiarity without a trace; hardened glares, crude insults.

⤷ Upon the moment you thought you had begun to understand him, he morphs into someone unrecognizable. It was as though you never knew him in the first place; as though you never knew Kokichi.

⤷ And with the hope of finding what you assumed was the Kokichi you knew, you attempted to withstand the cold, blatant detachment of his eyes as they meet your own. You pushed forth the barricade of insults and attempted to reclaim your ideals of Kokichi’s care; to reclaim someone you prayed even existed.

⤷ It was through the hope that you began to notice the inklings of care and acknowledgment seeping through him. It seemed that you’d finally be met with the Kokichi you’ve come to love; the one you’re able to recognize.

⤷ His insults that once pierced and mauled into your heart like the canines of a beast, chewing you apart and tearing you to mere shreds were now an obvious jest; one that attempted to retrieve a giggle from you rather than a sob.

⤷ And at long last, it seemed as though you were able to calm yourself. You’ve retrieved the comfortable attachment you’d acquired from Kokichi, and now you find that there’s nothing to worry about.

⤷ You feel safe; relieved. The title of friendship with the prankster himself wasn’t one you’d ever taken lightly.

⤷ So when he throws you for a loop—a vicious cycle—of indifference and then care, your heart was split relentlessly. The wounds healing only to be torn open, their stitches tugged out as fragments scattered your withered mind.

⤷ To his enjoyment—his sick, twisted delight—your mind was being built up only to be knocked down; familiarizing you with the mind fuck of an attachment he’s forced upon you.

⤷ It was cruel. His malicious intents unbeknownst to you, yet tauntingly clear.

⤷ Kokichi Oma is a liar, through and through. His tongue dipped in the silver coating of falsified hope for his words to stain themselves within.

⤷ But his adoration is an unbreakable truth sketched with the ink of his promises in the fine print. His love for you is real, as is proven by the inscription in contrast to mere words hanging in the air disguised as wishful whispers.

⤷ Though as true as his love is—as true as his devotion to you may be—he wouldn’t dare admit it to you. At least, not the first between both of you.

⤷ Regardless of how far gone down the plundering realm of love he was, he wouldn’t utter the words you crave to have confirmed until you pursue him first. His pride is an angry, green-eyed villain, one that holds his confession hostage at the back of his throat as he toys with you; toys with your mind.

⤷ And as tough as you make yourself to be—head held high with an unfaltering smile resting upon your lips—he’d break you down eventually. The longer he plays, the more interesting your reactions become.

⤷ Your erratic, borderline deranged hysteria at being left behind once more as he provides you nothing more than a cold shoulder is so, so amusing.

⤷ He’s perfectly aware of your desperation as the cycle of his cruel ways repeats once more, just as you’re aware of how you’re on the brink of falling apart if you’re left behind once again.

⤷ So with a long-forgotten pride that’d been swallowed as easily as a pill, you find yourself situated before him, eyes spilling over with tears.

⤷ You beg, and you beg, and you beg. Over and over until the words that fall from your lips hold no other meaning than please don’t leave, not again.

⤷ And with that, he’s satisfied. His patience having been run through the mill as he waited for the eventual breaking of your mentality, enough so to have you on your knees begging for his affections.

⤷ He’s aware of how malicious it is. How toxic he had been to put you through a maddening cycle of love and loss to acquire your sacred words of desperate devotion; your pleas for his returned affections.

⤷ Now he’s sure, so very sure, that you won’t leave him. You simply can’t. You came crawling to him first, you came begging for his love first, you came to him.

⤷ You wanted to be with him first, he never made such advancements. At that very moment, you’d sealed yourself to him, encasing yourself within the mousetrap as Kokichi’s grin held genuine care with the faux silver lining of deceit.

⤷ He’ll be sure to remind you of how easily he could leave you, much like the cycle he’d put you through. He’ll be sure to engrave it within your mind that you mean nothing to him.

⤷ Of course, that’s a lie! But you wouldn’t know that. He wouldn’t let you know that. If you even try to search for the truth within his devotion and adoration, he’ll put you in your place; you begged on your hands and knees for his mutual love, you confessed to him.

⤷ Kokichi Oma is a liar, that much is certain. He’s a cunning and paradoxical individual. His words tethered with insincerity and cutting into whomever he targets.

⤷ Yet there’d be no greater truth to be uttered by him other than that he loved you, he truly loved you.

⤷ But you wouldn’t know that. You wouldn’t know that was the truth amidst the Atlantic sea of his falsehoods, each picking apart at all that you believed was true. All you knew was that Kokichi Oma was a liar, through and through.

➤ MIKAN TSUMIKI

⤷ Her entire existence had been the heart of inconvenience. The world tossed her aside as though her life were nothing but a hassle, her survival proving futile to anyone and everyone; she was alone, and not a soul cared for her.

⤷ Her instincts were derived from being abandoned. In the lifetime of Mikan Tsumiki, abandonment was inevitable. Being left behind is merely the dissonant outcome of trust and interaction.

⤷ And thus, she’s untrusting. As it’s been engraved into her mind, if you are not needed, you will not be wanted.

⤷ It’s been a concept—an idea—that she’s been forced to bear. If others weren’t given a reason to need her, to rely on her, they’d find no use in her. This was the harsh reality Mikan had been forced to instill within her mind.

⤷ Yet, despite the harsh and unforgiving pains of betrayal within her life, she still found herself falling for the fragments of care you provided her.

⤷ Perhaps it was within your nature to be kind; to be someone that surrounded others in the warmth of your presence as you soothed their worries momentarily.

⤷ Mikan wasn’t one to trust easily, but she was one to love. And when she falls into love, she devotes herself with every scrap of her pathetic life she can muster.

⤷ Her heart swells in remembrance of how you appeared upon first meeting her; meek and fragile. Though that was to be expected, you were in the nurse’s office with reasoning, of course. A fever, a rather high one at that.

⤷ With Mikan’s status as the Ultimate Nurse, she took care of you. Providing you with a damp washcloth to regulate your temperature as she shuffled to retrieve your medicine from the cabinet. It was an ordinary occurrence, her daily life as the trusty nurse after all.

⤷ And yet the most peculiar thing had occurred amidst the most ordinary of days. As you lay gasping from the heat your very own body radiated, you still found it within you to meet eyes with Mikan.

⤷ She could tell how difficult it was for you to remain conscious, your body exhausted from attempting to preserve itself, yet you pushed yourself to give her a sincere smile. A passive thank you escaping your lips before an exaggerated sigh followed, and your eyes fluttered shut.

⤷ For a moment, she swore her heart had halted thumping, her breath catching within her throat. Was she hearing things? Had she managed to catch your fever in the few minutes of reach with you and experiencing some sort of hallucination?

⤷ Hundreds, if not, thousands of thoughts and excuses passed her mind before she settled; you had thanked her. Pitifully enough, this had been a first-time occurrence and one that stuck with the young nurse.

⤷ You were sent home that day. Yet your nearly inaudible whisper of gratitude echoed within Mikan’s mind as though it were a blaring alarm signaling for her to wake up.

⤷ But as always, she assumed that as soon as your eyes had shut, your moments together had concluded. She never expected to see you again, much less speak to her, and yet she was sorely mistaken.

⤷ There you stood before her, eyes trained on her own lavender hues. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you spoke, your words barely registering in her mind. Her mind occupied with the realization that you sought her out, you searched for her, you took time out of your day for her.

⤷ She manages to hear the end of yet another thanks, another voiced gratitude towards her as you smile.

⤷ The same smile that forces her to appear akin to a deer gazing at headlights. She was frozen momentarily and struggling to comprehend what’s being told to her.

⤷ Her first instinct was to apologize; to beg for forgiveness. Yet she had no reason to apologize, you’d just thanked her, after all. But it was an instinct and one that consumed her.

⤷ Thankfully, you weren’t looking for words to be sprouted back to you. Instead, you left with the same treasured smile on your lips that you’d blessed her with.

⤷ And with that, Mikan had deemed that the last of your meetings. It was inevitable, no matter the circumstance.

⤷ Life was run on a clock, a timed death sentence as every being awaited their own demise. Nothing was forever, not unless it were in death. And Mikan doubted she’d find someone who’d love her in life, much less even in death.

⤷ Though Mikan, yet again, finds that she is proven wrong. Not that she assumed she was right, anyway.

⤷ But the two of you meet again. This time under circumstances that she had hoped to avoid. It was a common occurrence, almost as common as her being found within the vicinity of a medical center; being picked on.

⤷ This was the closest thing to friendship Mikan had managed to acquire. Hiyoko had always had a sharp tongue, regardless of friendship status, her sharp words would still sear through and pierce into the hearts of whomever she preys upon.

⤷ And fragile, meek little Mikan was a typical victim to these harsh words. Every insult stabbing through her stitched heart, threatening to tear open the wounds once more.

⤷ Mikan was familiar with embarrassing moments. Her clumsy antics landing her in positions she prays to forget. And yet, she’s constantly attracting further embarrassment; much like her own pitiful existence she relentlessly apologizes for; apologizing for existing.

⤷ But having you witness her being torn down by the blonde had been an entirely new tidal wave of embarrassment. You, of all people in the forsaken academy, had seen her in her weakest moments.

⤷ She was familiar with being viewed as weak. She knew, herself, that she was an easy target, one that required minimal effort to instill rue within.

⤷ She was aware of them much like those around her were. Yet she didn’t want you to be aware of this knowledge; of this fact.

⤷ In the moments she’d known you, she had been at her most collected. Assisting you and nurturing you back to health as much as she could. She appeared as strong as she could be; as strong as she could ever be. And all of that strength displayed would mean nothing once you bear witness to how pitifully pathetic she truly is.

⤷ Would you prey upon her as well? Would you seek out her weaknesses and tear into them with your canines as though you inherited an unfathomable, animalistic hunger? Would you hurt her too?

⤷ It was then that her true infatuation had been birthed. Her yearning to love and be loved pulsating within her barren heart in which was deprived of genuine care. She felt the beginnings of a chance, the dispersion of her despair.

⤷ Your abhorrent gaze fixated ahead of you, and to Mikan’s relief, it wasn’t directed towards her. You gazed at Hiyoko with the flames of Hell itself raging in your eyes. Pure, unaltered anger burning a passionate fire.

⤷ It was all akin to a butterfly effect; a chain of events as a result of a singular action.

⤷ Mikan wasn’t sure where the chain had begun, but she understood that the flaps of the butterflies within her stomach weren’t in relation to sickness.

⤷ Of course not, she took excellent care of herself. But regardless, these flutters were delicate; ever-so soft. So much so, she swore they even tickled.

⤷ It was the first bloom of the garden of her potential devotion to you; the garden in which is littered with thorns—poisonous thorns—awaiting to prick at those unfortunate to be subject to her adoration.

⤷ And to your unaware dismay, that poor soul just so happened to be you; the same blissfully oblivious individual assisting the young nurse from her position on the floor after having been kicked by the antagonistic blonde; Hiyoko.

⤷ Much like the first blossoming of her feelings for you, that very moment had been the beginning of your friendship. Hand-in-hand as you walked her back to her house, only separating at your respected stops.

⤷ For every second you held her hand in yours, Mikan’s heart spun all the way to the moon.

⤷ If only you knew what you were doing to her and her poor little heart. If only you knew the nightmare you were brewing for yourself.

⤷ The walks home together soon turned into grabbing a bite together as well. Rather than obligation, it was a decision; one that you indulged in. And Mikan found herself swooning with hedonistic desire, a dangerous swirl of obsession within the cocktail of her love.

⤷ It was times like those that Mikan thanked her ability as the Ultimate Nurse. Having been accustomed to most prescriptions and symptoms, she was relied on by those who found themselves ill.

⤷ Much like you did when you claimed that you’d felt the slightest bit dizzy as the two of you walked home together, sipping on your drinks that Mikan had offered to fetch for you both; reciting your usual order as though it were the lyrics to the popular radio songs.

⤷ She asked you the typical questions, or well, what you assumed was typical. You wouldn’t question the nurse in her own field. You trusted Mikan to know what she was doing, leaning against her as your head grew foggier.

⤷ She had taken you home, assisting you up the stairs with an arm slung around her shoulders. Your breathing slow, nearly inaudible as you suppressed the urge to cave into a deep sleep.

⤷ With delicate care, she managed to tuck you into your bed. She scurries about in your room as you eye her with a fluttering gaze, stars littering your vision.

⤷ It wasn’t long before you’d shut your eyes without another worry. You’d assumed you were merely exhausted, a reasonable explanation. With the amount of testing you’d done that same week as a result of the semester coming to an end, it’s no wonder you’d be so worn out.

⤷ And being in the presence of the young and ever-so-talented nurse, Mikan, you knew you didn’t have anything to worry about. Mikan would take great care of you, without a doubt!

⤷ So when you woke up to find her sitting on the edge of your bed, peering down at you with a smile so soft—so sincere—you swore you couldn’t differentiate if it was the warmth of the blanket or the blush that was overwhelming you.

⤷ Mikan was truly so kind to you, treating you with such care and assuring you that you’d feel A-Okay under her watchful eye.

⤷ Before leaving, she lets you know she’s going to go fetch you some tea. She claims it’ll be easier on you and the herbs will provide you with an organic remedy your cells will be delighted to indulge in; whatever that means.

⤷ Yet as she stands by the door, she turns to you with a gleam in her eyes, one that you should’ve paid closer attention to as she asks you; would you like sugar in your tea?

⤷ You nod your head, signaling to her that you’d prefer having your tea sweetened.

⤷ Laying your head back down onto your pillow, you sigh as you allow yourself to relax once more. Truly submitting yourself to the care of your dear friend, Mikan.

⤷ After all, she only wants to do what’s best for you. She’s the nurse and you’re her patient. Who are you to question what she’s doing?

⤷ Even as Mikan rips open a miniature packet of a granulated white substance—gamma-hydroxybutyrate—a fine powder appearing akin to sugar, but is most definitely not the ladder. Though you shouldn’t bother worrying your little head over it.

⤷ Mikan knows best, Mikan knows best, Mikan knows best, Mikan knows best, Mikan knows best—

⤷ And it’s through blind trust—the very same trust that Mikan had shunned yet you embraced so easily—that you sip the tea Mikan had prepared for you. Merely biting back the scrunching of your features at the odd salty taste with a soapy undertone.

⤷ Mikan had always been a bit clumsy, so surely she must’ve simply mixed grabbing the salt rather than the sugar. Your mind rejecting any assumption that was anything other than that; you trusted Mikan. She wouldn’t do anything to harm you.

⤷ So as your head fogs further, your eyes drooping once more as the world grows darker, Mikan takes your cup from your hands and sets it on your nightstand.

⤷ Your body seems to have a mind of its own as you find yourself unable to move, your consciousness slipping before you could comprehend what’s happening. Though it’s not like you’d even steer your thoughts towards the bitter truth.

⤷ You trusted Mikan, you believed in her and the kindness of her actions, and the sincerity of her care.

⤷ And before fully submerging in the clutches of a deep slumber, you can feel the slender, wistful hands of another cradle your skin, squeezing and familiarizing themself with your figure.

⤷ As your eyes finally fluttered shut, your last sight had been of Mikan—your dear, trusted friend—hovering over you. Her lavender-hued gaze painted over with a sickening lust as her cheeks were flushed. Her visage is that of a crazed, lovesick fool.

⤷ The storm of Mikan’s obsessive love had been brewed. Stirred into a whirlwind of singed rose petals in which blood stains the thorn of the torn flowers from within her garden of despair; her heart torn to shreds only to be stitched together once more.

⤷ You, her beloved, are caging within the brambles of her desire. As her lips ghost over your unconscious form, suckling on your plush skin that she fawns over with such feverish admiration.

⤷ Her hands wander, and they wander, and they wander; she can’t get enough of you. She’ll never get enough of you. She’s truly a fool, disillusioned by the possibilities—the hope—love provides.

⤷ She’ll take all she can get. She’ll take every ounce of affection you have to offer. Her grasp clinging onto your body, stealing what unexplored regions you have to offer. Her yearning pushing her to take more; to steal all that she can, in the name of your love.

⤷ But it’s alright. After all, you won’t remember a thing once you awaken. And she can do it again, and again, and again.

➤ NAGITO KOMAEDA

⤷ In his love-stricken eye, you were ethereal. A beam of absolute hope, relinquishing despair and paving a path for the greater good. In his eyes, you were more than his hope; you were his god.

⤷ He hailed your every word; your every step; your every notion. Anything you do or say, he follows with every bit of his culminated devotion.

⤷ He saunters behind your lead, his head dazed with the true belief in the words that leave your mouth. You were never wrong. You were flawless in every form imaginable. You were perfection personified.

⤷ His devotion spiraled from your overwhelming optimism. Your positive energy seeping into the heart of others, as seen within their visage.

⤷ You were the embodiment of true hope, his one, and only. You were his beacon of light shining towards a better tomorrow.

⤷ And he swore there wouldn’t be a day in his miserable, worthless life that he wouldn’t cherish your very existence.

⤷ He swarmed his lifestyle with you, you, you! His fixation manifesting through his every action and train of thought. Anything he did, he did it for you.

⤷ So when he began observing you from afar, eyeing you as you go about your daily life, he swore up and down it was for you. To truly invest in you; his hope—no. His god.

⤷ You didn’t notice his presence lurking behind you at almost all hours. But, of course, you wouldn’t! He wouldn’t dare hope for someone of your elite status to pay heed to mere scum like him; like everyone around you.

⤷ Nagito was as self-loathful as he was jealous. Though he wouldn’t dub such turmoil as jealousy. Someone as lowly as him had no right to be jealous. You’d never associate with someone whose worth is that of garbage.

⤷ No, no. You’re better than that. You’re deserving of far more than that. You were a deity. You reigned over filthy nobodies much like him, casting hope upon everyone no matter how meaningless their existence may be.

⤷ So it was only natural he’d feel such a searing, blazing burst of repugnance at the audacity of people. The audacity of society. To see the way strangers so easily conversed with you, so carelessly interacting with you.

⤷ Were they not aware of your ethereal mien? Were they not aware of who they were speaking to?

⤷ Nagito found it nauseate. Witnessing so many nugatory nobodies engaging with you yet holding no regard to just how valuable you are; to your aristocracy.

⤷ Truthfully, he thought of it as a miracle that you would speak to those so invaluable. But that’s what pulled him—like a magnetic pole—to be enamored by you.

⤷ You were so hopeful. You sought the beauty of everything and everyone your treasured gaze laid upon. You discovered hope within the most purposeless of entities, and he could only fantasize the hope your beloved eyes would seek out within him.

⤷ But he merely dreams of such a thing. Never would he dare pollute your valuable time and existence with the thought of his irrelevant self. He was nothing, and he sure as hell was below even a nobody to you.

⤷ So he watched, and he watched, and he watched your every move. His ghostly green hues trained on your form, from any and all angles.

⤷ Anywhere you were, he was as well. Trailing behind you was as common as your very own shadow. He promised he’d follow you to the ends of the Earth. If his hope would allow, he’d do anything and everything to pursue complete allegiance.

⤷ He sought to appreciate and worship the entirety of your existence. For as long as you lived, he hoped—oh, how beautiful hope is to allow him to dedicate his life to you—he’d treasure you entirely.

⤷ His days spent following behind you, avoiding being seen by the public eye, or rather your eye, had soon evolved into beyond that of just following.

⤷ Much to Nagito’s dismay, he harbored fragments of bitter selfishness. Atrocious, it truly was. How could someone as lowly—as much of a scum as him—possibly writhe in selfishness?

⤷ He was already undeserving of being within your shadow, following you home. Yet he still had the shameless desire to yearn for more. Sickening; he could only be further disgusted by his miserable existence.

⤷ But he couldn’t help himself. Someone as faultless as you was meant to be obsessed over, right?

⤷ And thus, he began to take pictures. Photographs of his beloved hope—his god—saved within his phone.

⤷ At first, he was shaken beyond his own comprehension of the impudence to take a photograph of you, especially with photography skills as shameful as his. But still, much as he expected, even through his worthlessness you had shone; you looked absolutely beautiful in each and every shot.

⤷ His collection of photos only increased with each passing second. Soon enough, his fingers instinctively curled to the dimensions of his phone, readily waiting to snap a picture of your radiance.

⤷ It took a singular day to accumulate one hundred photos, and after a week he’d managed to possess well over seven hundred photos of you; of his beloved god.

⤷ Not a single photo was scrapped. Each of them equally cherished and mounted upon his wall with the use of tape. The walls of his bedroom soon filling with pictures of you, you, you!

⤷ And he wouldn’t have it any other way. As he laid atop his bed, his eyes would trail towards the pictures on his wall.

⤷ One was of you leaving your home to begin your walk towards the academy he was blessed to enroll in along with you. Your uniform ironed and peppered with your fragrance that Nagito dreamed to be drowned in.

⤷ Another was of you changing in the locker room. Of course, it was rather difficult to acquire the photograph due to the mirrors and the risks of being caught if you managed to catch sight of his reflection as he took a snap of you. But, thankfully, his luck had been on his side that day.

⤷ And his personal favorite, a photo taken from outside your bedroom window through the miniature crack that your curtain provided. It was an odd angle, but Nagito didn’t mind it. After all, the view it provided was one worth a million; beyond the worth of his unworthy life.

⤷ It was a photo of you seated atop your bed. The hem of your tee tucked between your lips as it allowed the exposure of your delicate chest and abdomen.

⤷ Nagito’s eyes were trained upon your exposed skin. Every inch blessed his eyes with a euphoria he knew no bounds of, his chest swelling with rapture at the sight of your body; a figure so holy.

⤷ But his eyes didn’t remain on your chest for long, instead deciding to flicker down to where your left hand squirmed.

⤷ Nagito swallowed the lump in his throat at the sight, his eyes darkening with the sheen of lust as his gaze remained trained on where your hand sunk onto, your sweats pulled down to your thighs.

⤷ There you were, in all your glory, pleasuring yourself. From behind the glass of your window, he could hear the muffled noises of your pants and moans. Whispers of whiny wants as you strive towards your climax.

⤷ The view was one that would forever be engrained into Nagito’s mind. Of all memories he’s acquired in his life, he wouldn’t dare allow himself to forget this one.

⤷ Nagito could only watch as his darling hope—his god—pleasured themself by their very own hands.

⤷ Drool collected within his mouth, seeping through the corner of his lips as his pants strained. The erotic yet maddeningly hypnotizing sight of you committing such a lewd deed brought him heeps of pleasure, and he hadn’t even been touched.

⤷ Despite his practically animalistic craving, he wouldn’t allow himself to wander into his own, tainted imagination. He wouldn’t allow himself to imagine his own dirty, grimy fingers touching your plush skin. He wouldn’t allow himself to imagine his forgettable, horrendous name being moaned from your lips.

⤷ No, he wouldn’t. He’d take what he had been blessed with wholeheartedly, and that was the sight he was given the grace to see. All that matters is that of all odds, he was there at that very moment and witnessing the treasured sight of a lifetime.

⤷ The same sight that was now on his wall in the form of a photograph. Though that wasn’t the only one of that sacred, divine night.

⤷ In the span of the fifteen minutes you’d spent, touching yourself and blubbering out pleas for more pleasure—more exquisite delight—Nagito managed to acquire two hundred sixty-three photos. Each of them stashed within the shoebox beneath his bed.

⤷ His admiration for you had caused him to plunder into an abyss of inexplainable hope. He constantly yearned, constantly strived, and relentlessly hoped to achieve.

⤷ He continued to hope yet he was unaware of what for. Had he been hoping to be noticed by you? By his beloved hope that had no business meddling with scum like him? Or had he hoped to truly achieve absolute devotion to you within his minuscule lifetime?

⤷ Nagito was blissfully unaware as he allowed himself to drown in the hope you radiated, unaware of his worthless existence basking within it.

⤷ Perhaps he’ll never truly decipher what he had hoped for. But for as long as he lived, he’d dedicate himself entirely to you; to your ethereal entity. He’ll continue to trail in the encompass of your shadow until his dying breath.

⤷ Nagito Komaeda devoted himself to you; to your hope; to your words; to your actions. He committed to your very existence, following the belief in you; his god.

[acourtofsnakes]

Haran - Rogue, Chapter 8 | The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: The Mandalorian tries to get back on with his normal routine without you. So he decided to go visit Peli on the quiet, almost deserted planet of Tatooine. Where he will meet no one of interest or danger. At all. 

Warnings: Hmm, not many. Some light swearing and mentions of death briefly. 

Word count: Around 7139

AN: I’m not sure if everything I wrote about Tatooine is strictly ‘correct’, so forgive me if not!

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist:  @snipskixandbeskar   @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss​ @jackgrzs @sarahjkl82-blog @boomtownboy

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl | 5: Kyr’am | 6: Cabur | 7: Ret'urcye Mhi | 8: Haran

Mando’a translation: Haran – Hell

The Mandalorian watched you walk away. 

He watched your figure retreat further and further into the distance, each step taking you closer to Nevarro, and further away from him and the kid. He watched until he could see you no more, then sighed, murmuring to Grogu and returning to the cockpit to leave. 

And it hurt. 

He knew it would, he wasn’t stupid. He just hadn’t expected it to hurt so very much. Didn’t expect that it would feel like you’d wrenched his heart from beneath his armour and took it with him. 

He hadn’t even hugged you. Touch like that was rare for Mandalorians, wasn’t considered… ‘normal.’

But when had your… friendship... ever been ‘normal’? You’d started off as hunter and prey, for Maker’s sake. He’d hunted you down and took you onto his ship with every intention of delivering you to the new Client and being on his merry way. 

Only, you were different. You didn’t shy away from him. You didn’t cower or beg for your life. You were cocky, inappropriate and had a silver-tongue and knew how to use it. You got under his skin and drove him insane. 

But… he’d laughed more times with you than he had with anyone that wasn’t the kid. 

You made him feel… less alone. And he’d hoped he’d done the same for you

Then you’d saved his life. 

And he’d realised just how much he had come to adore your presence and your company. 

As cliché as it sounded, it was like having a little bit of sunlight in his ship. 

Well, no. That might not be the right analogy. You weren’t just sunlight. You weren’t just a flame; you were a blaze. 

You burned brighter than anyone he had ever met, determined not to be dragged down by your past. Your anger was a storm, ravaging everything it came near, with all the force of a tempest. He’d borne the brunt of it enough times in the few months he had been together. 

But you had a light inside you, a thirst to see the good in the world, the beauty no matter how dark it may have appeared. He admired that about you. There was a word for it in Mando’a. Shereshoy; a lust for life. 

The last argument you’d had… He knew from the moment you ran from the market, that you would lash out. He didn’t know how, but he’d seen the shift in your eyes, seen the way that fire had blazed – only to gutter out into consuming darkness. 

It had flickered as you had yelled at each other, and when he saw it go black, saw darkness cloud over and suck you into the depths, he’d dived right in after you. 

It had been instinct to run to you, catch you in his arms and let you both sink down together. Only he held you from being pulled too deep.

And you’d let him. 

The moment you’d let go and curled into his body, was the moment he felt everything change. 

It had broken a gate within him. A carefully and purposely crafted wall of adamant in his mind that held back the force of everything he shouldn’t feel. 

It was why he’d done what he did the other night. 

He’d been on the hunt, tracking the bounty. It was an easy one, so easy he didn’t even really need to think about it. Which of course, left his mind open to wandering. 

And it kept coming back to you, over and over again. 

What you were doing, if you were okay, if the ship was too hot for you and if he’d set the locks correctly. 

He always had the same thoughts whenever he left the kid, but with you there, they had eased. He’d trusted you from that first night you sung Grogu your mother’s lullaby. 

So that didn’t plague him. 

No, it was your hair that was the main subject tonight. That damn hair that he couldn’t take his eyes off of since the moment you’d let it down a couple of days ago. 

The light had caught it just right, turning it to gold and when you ran your hands through it…

He’d been struck with a craving so intense; it took his breath away. 

He yearned to move away your hands, replace them with his own. 

To shuck off his gloves and truly feel the silky texture of it, to feel anything but the worn leather interior of the material. 

He couldn’t have been more relieved when you’d landed on the desert planet. He had though that the Maker had taken pity on him, saving him before he could do something really stupid. 

The distraction had remained with him throughout his hunt, sneaking up on him whenever he should be at least trying to concentrate. 

By the time he’d caught the bounty and had begun to lug him back to the Crest, his body had begun to itch. Less of a persistent irritation and more of a yearning. At first, he’d thought it was from the heat, but when he’d climbed the ramp to the Crest, he could smell the lingering aroma of the soap you’d used in your shower. 

He’d quickly dispatched of the bounty in the carbonite chamber, eager to escape to the small storage compartment he had now taken up residence in. 

He hadn’t bothered to take back his sleeping quarters, something in him wanting to give you that small bit of comfort. Besides, he’d slept in worse places. 

He’d retreated there after a brief conversation with yourself, trying to clear his mind as he lay on the collection of blankets and sacks that he’d made up for his bed and waited for his body to relax and sleep to claim him. Eventually, it had. 

It wasn’t Grogu’s crying that awoke him that night, as it normally would. 

No, it was that damn smell. 

It had filtered through his helmet, invading his sleep and gently tugged him awake. 

He’d sat up and without a thought, followed that scent like a hound. 

It had led him to the kitchen and then…

Then he’d seen you. 

In that flimsy drape of fabric that could hardly call itself a dress. 

There was just… so much of your skin on show. So much of your smooth skin on display, lined with scars here and there but it didn’t matter to him. It told your story, your survival  

The Mandalorian’s own body had tightened, heat blazing across his skin and making his armour uncomfortable. He rarely acknowledged the heaviness of it, but standing there, looking at you, had truly made him feel the crushing weight. 

And when you’d turned, the water rolling down your neck…

The image of removing his helmet and catching that bead of water on his tongue, of trailing it up your neck and finally tasting your skin that he knew would be as sweet as your scent.. it nearly undid him. 

In fact, it did. It broke a restraint in him and set a haze in his mind that cleared only when the beeping of the autopilot had demanded his attention. 

He’d sat up in the cockpit for hours afterward, staring at his now gloved hands. 

He had touched you. He had removed his gloves in the presence of someone else, trusting in you not to turn around. He’d felt you. 

Felt that gorgeous, silky hair on his fingers. 

Felt the bumps of your spine beneath your skin. 

The noises you’d made, the sighs and the moans, they were branded into his memory, followed him when he finally went back to bed. 

They’d echoed in his ears, playing over and over until his trousers had become even more painfully tight and he was forced to fix the problem. 

The next day, the pleasure and breathless thrill of what had occurred went stale. It turned into shame, disgust at himself for treating you like that, thinking of you like that in the late hours. 

The snide voice in his head had whispered that it was time, time to invoke what he already planned when he was out on his hunt. 

And like a cowardly fool, he gave in. 

The betrayal and hurt in your eyes when he’d told you had been like a punch to his heart. 

He’d been battered in fights and that hurt less. 

Hurt less than this pain as he re-joined the atmosphere above Nevarro and moved the ship away. 

Was he making a mistake? Should he have kept you with him? OR stayed with you, even just for a little while longer? But what if someone had caught up to you or spotted you and gave you up. There would be no telling who would-

Ping!

A metallic note on the back of his helmet snapped him from his frantic thoughts, echoing in the confines of his helmet. It had come from Grogu’s direction.

He turned around, looking at what it was… and saw Grogu’s ball on the floor. 

“Hey, kid, what are you doing?”

An angry gurgle emanated from the little green creature, waving his arms in the air and his face full of disdain. 

Mando sighed, “Look, I know you’ll miss her, but we have to do this, okay?”

Grogu only waved his hands again, and suddenly the ball was flying through the air, bouncing off of his visor before rolling along the cockpit again. 

“Hey!! Now you decide to use your powers? That’s enough. This has to happen.” He pointed a finger at Grogu. 

Which just made the kid burst into tears and scream. 

Loudly. 

Mando swore under his breath, pulling him out of his crib and plonking him down on his lap. He turned back to the front of the ship, one hand holding the back of the kid’s head, the other piloting the ship, “Hey, hey… look, I’m sorry but… she had to leave. It wasn’t safe for her to stay with us..”

Grogu just wailed more, his little fists thumping into Mando’s belly. He was not happy with his father, and seemed intent on letting him know that. 

He sighed, letting Grogu pummel him. After all, his little hands barely made an impact, and it just reminded him painfully of that night in the cargo hold, where you fought him and broke down. He switched the ship to autopilot, tilting his head down to give Grogu his full attention. “Grogu.”

More wailing, the little tyke was determined not to pay attention. 

“Cmon, Grogu. Look at me.”

Grogu’s head shook rapidly from side to side, his little body shaking with sobs. 

“Not even for cookies?”

A pause. A questionable gurgle replacing the wailing. 

Mando couldn’t help the smile on his face behind the helmet, “Ah, see, I knew that would get your attention. If you look at me, I’ll let you have the pack.” It was bad parenting, not to mention bribery and he knew that. But anything to stop Grogu being upset – and to convince himself he’d done the right thing. “Just look at me, okay? And listen..”

Grogu lifted his head up, looking up at his father with glossy, tear filled eyes. 

Mando felt his heart break a little, and he gently wiped the tears from Grogu’s cheek with the back of his little finger, “I know you’re mad at me, and I completely understand why. But… there are so many people after her. After us as well.”

Grogu listened intently, little snuffly breaths rising from him now and then as a result of the previous tears. 

The Mandalorian reached across to a little box beside him, pulling out a package of the blue space cookies. He unwrapped them as he spoke, “The people that are after us all might start to work together. They might think that... if they can get to one of us, they can get all of us.” He pulled out a cookie, then held it out to the kid. “Everyone knows that I threw away the tracking fob. And that will draw more attention.”

Grogu took the cookie, biting it and his head tilted as he let his father speak, munching away. 

Mando leaned back in his seat, head still tilted down to watch, “If they find us… they find her. Any of the bounties I catch could turn, like that guy before with the tail. So.. if she goes to Nevarro… She can blend in and hide. Cara and Greef will monitor anyone coming in. They’ll keep her safe and steer away any authorities or hunters. She’ll be safer there than she will with us… and if we need to, I can draw away any hunters who think we’re all still together.”

Grogu’s ears sagged a little, a softer coo rising from him that flung a few tiny blue crumbs onto his fathers lap. 

Mando huffed a slight laugh, shaking his head a little, “Messy.” He brushed a few more crumbs from Grogu’s mouth, “Do you understand though? Why I had to do it?”

The kid nodded, though he still looked sad.

The Mandalorian held him closer, “I know, kid. I wish we didn’t have to do it either.”

~

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Just travelling to Tatooine. His ship needed repairing, and the Mandalorian hadn’t met with Peli for a long while. 

And… maybe something in him was craving the comfort of… a friend? 

Besides, the kid loved her too and he wanted to cheer him up. 

He would see if the sparse planet had any extra work for him. He doubted it, the cantinas were rarely ever half full, but it didn’t hurt to try. He needed something to keep his mind occupied and away from thinking of a particular cocky, snarky, gorgeous companion. 

When he was close, he set the ship to autopilot, the display on the panel and his internal body clock telling him it was time to sleep. 

He scooped up Grogu, who had been playing with his ball, “C’mon, kid. Time for bed. You can come with me tonight.” 

The Mandalorian made his way to the little area that had become his bedroom. He looked down at the pile of blankets on the floor, pausing. 

Maybe he should return to his bed. The floor was wreaking havoc on his already aching back, and it was cold on the floor. 

He sighed, taking way too long to think about it, before returning back up to his sleeping compartment, pressing the pad on the wall to open it. 

Fuck. 

The entire compartment smelt like you. It hit him as soon as the door slid open, wafting under his helmet and filling his head with your scent. He swallowed back a soft groan, made his body move across the room. He didn’t need this. He needed sleep. He needed to focus. 

Mando walked across the room and set Grogu laying down closest to the wall, before sliding in and manoeuvring his clunky body and armour into the bed too. 

It was stronger here, the smell of your perfume. If he closed his eyes, maybe he could imagine you were there with him. Tucked up against him, sleeping deeply and evenly. 

He sighed, pulling the blankets over Grogu’s body and then his own, images swirling through his mind, the same ones that taunted him every night when he tried to sleep. He tried not to feel them, the thoughts that relentlessly filled his mind. It had made him restless, made his inhibitions low – hence why he’d found you in the kitchen, unable to hold back on the things he wanted to do and say. 

Mando said quietly after a while, rubbing Grogu’s ears, “You really liked her, huh?”

Grogu cooed, nodding his head a little before tilting it into his father’s touch. 

Mando sighed softly, resting his head on the pillow again and closing his eyes, “Me too, kid… Me too.” He allowed himself to inhale deeply, let that scent envelope him and lull him into sleep. 

~~

“Oh, thank the Force!! You’re still alive! Come here you little womp rat!” 

Peli’s excited exclamation was broken only by Grogu’s delighted squeal as he tottered over to her, arms outstretched and making grabby hands. 

Mando smiled behind his helmet. He knew coming here was the right thing to do. Grogu adored Peli, and hopefully this would cheer him up somewhat. He looked at Peli, the raised eyebrow evident in his voice as he leant against the side of his ship, “Did you expect us not to be?” 

Peli scooped Grogu up, holding him close after inspecting his body for injuries or hurts. “Are you blind, boy? Everyone is out looking for you. They know what you did, even out here. The droids picked up chatter from the town. Word is, they increased the bounty on your head and doubled the girls.”

Mando stood up straight quickly, “They’ve doubled her bounty?! That’s… That’s ridiculous. It was already the highest I’ve seen.” 

Peli narrowed her eyes, watching his reaction. “So, it’s true then. You kept another bounty. I didn’t know Mandalorian’s liked to collect things so much.” Her voice was a little disapproving, but she motioned for Mando to follow her. “You shouldn’t be taking such stupid risks, Mando. You’ve got a child to look after. Harbouring criminals isn’t the way to do that.”

The words left his mouth like an instinct, “She’s not a criminal.” He followed her though, his boots scuffing up dust on the floor. 

Peli looked over her shoulder at him, her own eyebrows raised this time, “Oh? She’s not? So that bounty fell on her accidentally did it? Look, if we heard of her all the way out here, she must have truly done something b-“

“She is not a criminal, Peli.” He tried to rein in the steel in his voice. Peli was just looking out for Grogu, and for him. But something about her tone had struck a nerve, reminded him of the own conclusions he had jumped to, and how badly it had hurt you. 

Peli didn’t even bother to turn around as she walked into the hangar, “And how do you know that? She tell you what she’s being hunted for?” She shifted Grogu to her other arm and pointed at the droids that rolled past her on their way to the ship, “Careful with those parts.”

Mando swallowed, hesitating as he looked back at the droids and then back toward Peli, following her to her desk area. “No. She didn’t. But I just know.” He sunk into a chair, picking up something from the desk and fiddling with it. 

Peli watched the movement, assessing him and she just hummed as she sat down herself, Grogu on her lap. “Look. What you do, who you meet and decide to put in your band of rogues is none of my concern. Hell, we know nothing about each other. But you have to remember, this child is still wanted by Moff Gideon. You’re still wanted by both sides. You need to be careful.” Her voice was firm, but there was a note of softness there that you had to look to find, but it was there all the same. “I assume she’s in that ship of yours hiding? You can bring her out. I won’t bite her.”

Mando swallowed, his words becoming a little difficult and he had to pause again, “No. She’s not there. I… we parted ways.”

Peli frowned, looking down at Grogu who had turned his head to her, cooing. His ears had flopped a little again, but he didn’t contest the fact. She made a thoughtful noise again, “Parted ways?”

Mando sighed silently, wanting to take the subject away from you, the pain in his chest, “How has business been?”

She blinked, then burst out laughing, “Business? Are you actually pulling a joke on me, Mandalorian? Do you see any business here? Tatootine is just as quiet as it was the last time you were here. Why? Looking for a job?”

Mando shrugged, setting down the object he’d been playing with, “It wouldn’t hurt to get some extra credits.”

Peli tilted her head thoughtfully, “Well, I can’t promise anything. But there have been a few new stragglers coming through the town lately. Some hunters, smugglers and the like. One of them might have something you can do. I wouldn’t rely on it though.”

He nodded, grateful for the chance to go and do something. Even if it was just walking into town, being told no, and heading back again. “Great. I’ll check it out in a bit.”

She wasn’t listening. She’d already diverted all of her attention back to Grogu, cooing at him and pulling faces.  

~~

Tatooine was just as dry, dusty and barren as it was the last time the Mandalorian had set foot here. Its inhabitants were scattered throughout the towns, which were dotted few and far between, though there were a handful more inhabitants here in Mos Eisley. It ws one of the larger spaceports, so had a little more traffic. 

It was still almost deserted though. 

You didn’t often see people or creatures in the streets, as the sun beating down was too much sometimes even for those that called the desert planet home. They also seemed to know when sandstorms were coming – which were often. Maybe there was another on its way. There was a wild wind brewing, stirring the sand. 

There weren’t many out today, maybe driven inside by the relentless sun, though a cluster had gathered here, in Chalmun’s Spaceport Cantina. 

It was a roughly hewn building on the outside, the same colour as the dusty ground. It was small, but its thick walls provided a natural shade, cool and dim out of the sun.

Mando ducked under the upper threshold as he stepped inside, ignoring the glances and muttering that occurred whenever he walked into a place. Even if he hadn’t been clad in shiny – albeit rather dusty – beskar, he still would have garnered the attention, simply for being a Mandalorian. 

He was used it to by now, but it did still make him feel uncomfortable sometimes. 

He surveyed the room, then walked to the bar, which provided the main source of light in the centre of the room. The atmosphere seemed…calm, though that could change at the drop of a hat and the bar could erupt into one of it’s famous brawls. 

The last time he’d set foot in this particular cantina, he’d helped a young bounty hunter… who’d turned traitor. 

He would try to avoid that this time. He only wanted a job. No help. 

The Mandalorian tapped the bar to gain the attention of the barman, “Hey. Anyone come through here with bounty pucks?” 

The barman paid him no attention, continuing to serve the customer, a pilot by the looks of his jumpsuit. 

Mando frowned behind his helmet, “No?” He was hot, a little agitated and he missed you. So his temper wasn’t the greatest. 

The barman snapped, “No. Come back tomorrow, maybe there’ll be a line of people waiting to fall at your shiny feet.” He looked at Mando in disgust then walked to the other end of the bar to serve.

Mando sighed, counting to ten his mind. He needed a job. He would just have to keep trying. 

And so, he did. Over the next three days, he went back again and again. And every day, he would come home with nothing. 

Each night, Peli would tell him over dinner that it was because of the approaching storm. That there would be more people once it had cleared. 

The third night, the storm finally rolled in. 

Mando was already awake, the lack of distraction meaning his thoughts were spiralling again, so he was conscious when the howling wind roared to life, bringing with it waves and waves of sand. 

He spent the night watching the wind move like it was an animal, unleashed from its cage to be free. It didn’t sound angry. It sounded mournful. Like it was tearing through the town looking for something, for someone. 

Mando couldn’t help but relate. 

~ 

The storm stayed for another four days. Endless howling of the wind, the cold chill it brought of a night, so different to the scorching wind of the days. 

Luckily, it gave the Mandalorian something to do. He secured his ship when the wind had died down a little, making sure there were no gaping holes or anything that could get damaged should the wind change direction. 

As much as he didn’t like droids, he had to admit that Peli’s did a pretty good job. 

After that, she had him clearing out any of her gear and belongings that were outside. 

Which meant hauling in all the nearby boxes and making sure the droids didn’t roll out and get buffeted and dragged away by the wind. 

When that was done, he was to spend his time clearing away the dust and sand that blew in through the openings. 

Peli told him she couldn’t work in a messy environment, but the scattered parts, oily rags and various paraphernalia dotted around would have him beg to differ. 

Still, it gave him a way to keep his mind busy. 

However, the jobs and handy work he did for her didn’t stop him from watching the storm every night, or from checking Peli’s rusty but still operational tablet for updates on the atmospheric pressure. 

…

The morning of the fifth day dawned bright and scalding. 

The storm was gone, reduced to a few gusts of heavy wind here and there, but nothing like the raging force of the past four days. 

The heat was even more oppressive than usual, like the wind had sucked any minuscule ounce of coolness from the air and left it feeling like fire in the lungs. 

Peli told him he was stupid, that the town would be deserted. She was even more annoyed when he informed her that he was taking Grogu. He had been penned inside for four days and was starting to act as stir crazy as Mando felt. 

Peli yelled at him, even threatened to take apart his ship but he respectfully ignored her and made the trek anyway. Even if every step in the blazing heat made it feel like his armour was melting to his body. He’d popped Grogu into his crib, to spare him from the scorching air. 

Why did he decided to come to another desert planet?

Maybe he would go somewhere cold next. 

Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. Somewhere where he could take a breath of chilled, icy air. Somewhere he could show Grogu the snow..

~“Snow and ice are stunning. They’re powerful and strong. I’ve only ever been in a proper snowfall once, and I fell in love. The way the flakes float down and.. dance even if there’s the faintest breeze. And then when they land on your skin or your eyelashes like little cold kisses… The sound it makes under your boots when you walk on a fresh fall. And it softens everything, makes it easier on your eyes to see across the landscape… it’s quiet, muffled…”~

Mando’s heart wrenched as he remembered your words, the way your face lit up and your eyes danced as you described the feeling of snow on your skin. He swallowed, shaking his head free of the memory and walking into the cantina, Grogu’s crib floating along with him. 

The barman sneered at him, “What, no questions today?” 

Mando just shook his head, ordering a bowl of cold broth for the kid and then he retreated to a table in the corner, sinking into his seat. 

Maker, he was tired. So, so tired. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper sleep and it was beginning to catch up with him now. 

The tiredness, mixed with the physical work of the past few days was getting to him. His back ached and his shoulders were constantly tense with the weight of his armour. He wasn’t a young man anymore, things had started to niggle and irritate more than usual. 

The quiet ambiance of the cantina and the soft slurps of Grogu enjoying his broth were beginning to lull the Mandalorian into sleep. His body relaxed into the hard bench seat, his eyes began to close behind the helmet, no matter how hard he fought it. 

Maybe he could just close his eyes for a moment… just to rest..

It wasn’t until Grogu’s sharp warning cry echoed through the fog in his brain, that he realised he’d actually fallen asleep. His head shot up from where it had rested on his chest, adrenaline shooting through his body so fast it made him dizzy. His hand had flown to the blaster on his hip by instinct, and he looked around rapidly for the cause of Grogu’s cry. 

And then he found it. 

Sitting opposite him and the kid, was a male figure, draped in an expensive looking black cloak that was embroidered with golden thread. The hilt of an ancient blade protruded above broad shoulders, sheathed down the figure’s spine. The cloak hid anything on the figures body, but Mando knew it was lined with weapons. 

The male figure had an elbow on the table, a long arm propped up with his hand disappearing into the darkness of his hood where he presumably had his chin resting. 

He knew that this man was a hunter. 

A predator. 

He could sense the coiled energy slumbering within the relaxed stance, just knew that the heavy material of his cloak hid an arsenal of weapons. 

That and the fact he could see the faint outline of a knife hidden within the man’s sleeve. 

The Mandalorian straightened, alertness flooding every single sense, along with the anger at his own sheer stupidity for falling asleep. He reached out, pulling Grogu off of the table and back into his crib in one fluid movement, shielding it between his body and the wall behind him. 

He might have chosen a corner table, might be backed into that corner, but at least no one could get the jump on him from behind. 

Mando had already marked the exists and potential attack points the first time he’d come here, so he didn’t need to worry about those. 

He was in the process of trying to spot any tells on his new acquaintance, when the figure laughed. 

A laugh like silk, flowing over the skin. A laugh that was designed to draw you in, to caress you and seduce you. 

The voice was the same. Low, with a rich baritone like velvet that slid over the Mandalorian’s bones, “Relax. You don’t need to go on the offence, Mandalorian. Though I know that might be hard for you.” He was grinning under that hood, and Mando could almost imagine a set of fangs to match the voice, itching to sink into flesh. 

“Don’t I?” The Mandalorian’s voice was hard, cold. He needed to get out of here… but something was making him curious about who this shadowy figure was, something niggling at the back of his mind like he knew. 

The figure shrugged, an easy gesture, “Nope. Trust me, if I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have woken up from your little nap there. I could have killed you and that Peli woman during the storm and hung your skins out as wind gauges.”

He knew who Peli was? Who was he?

The Mandalorian said nothing. He supposed someone from the town could have spotted him staying at Peli’s. He’d have to leave. He didn’t want her getting hurt because of him. 

The man laughed again, set Mando’s teeth on edge, “Honestly, Mando. Are you always wound this tight? No wonder you don’t sleep.” He dropped his hand, resting both forearms on the table and lacing his fingers together. They were clad in fine leather gloves, perfectly snug to his hands. “I won’t kill your little friend either, I promise. I’m here on business.” He paused, “Acceptable business, if you could call it that. Not my usual or favoured type of business, mind you.” 

Mando kept his hand on his blaster, kept his other arm held slightly out in case Grogu’s crib was on display. It was only then that he’d noticed the entire cantina had emptied out. It was just the three of them. How long was he asleep? 

“What business would that be? I don’t exactly fall into the ‘acceptable business’ category myself.”  He couldn’t keep the snideness out of his tone. 

The figure leaned into his hands, no ounce of light creeping past the hood. There was nothing there, just heavy darkness shrouding his face. “I need you to find someone for me. I’ve been tasked by someone supposedly important to bring them in, and I heard you’re almost as good as me.”

Mando had a feeling he knew where this was going. “And who am I helping you bring in? I don’t have sidekicks.”

The figure snorted, like Mando’s words amused him, “You think I’d be your sidekick? Please. You’ve been living with your head in that bucket too long. You obviously don’t know who I am.” He might have shaken his head beneath the heavy cloak, “I digress. Here is the person I want you to help me find.” He slid a puck onto the table, “I think you’ll be able to help. I’d be happy to split the reward in half with you. It would be enough for you to take your little one to one of those sanctuary planets.” 

He didn’t want to press that puck. He didn’t want to reveal what he already knew. “Sorry. I just remembered. I’m busy.” He made to rise from his chair. 

The figure didn’t even move a finger, and suddenly an iron grip wrapped itself around the Mandalorian’s throat. He choked, his hand slipping from his blaster to his neck, trying to prise away whatever was suffocating him, but it wasn’t there. Nothing was touching him. 

The man watched him, “Sit down.”

The pressure became tighter, dragged down Mando’s body and forced his legs to relax and for his body to dump back onto the bench. “Now. Activate the puck.” 

Mando shook his head, gasping for breath beneath the helmet, his lungs already fit to burst and his eyes tearing up. He had to protect you and the kid.

This man, if he was one, snarled softly, “Unless you want me to crush your windpipe and slit your baby in half, open the damn puck.”

Mando growled, clawing across the table and slamming his fingers onto the puck. 

At once, the pressure immediately vanished. The man still sounded calm, casual, “That’s a good boy.” 

The sudden rush of air was surprisingly not what had Mando gasping. It was your face, lit up in holo with the now absurdly high bounty flashing above it. 

He’d known it’d be you, but it was still like a blow to his heart. The hazy blue mirage of your face, projected into the air stared at him, cutting right through him. 

Mando shook his head again, his voice hoarse, “I don’t know where she is. I lost her. I don’t have the rights to go after again.”

The shadowy man leaned forward closer, flicking the puck “I knew you’d say that. I also knew that roughly a week ago, you dropped her off in Nevarro. I know that she’s currently staying under the protection of Marshal Cara Dune and Greef Carga.” He pressed the button to deactivate the puck. 

Ice spread through Mando’s belly. How did this freak know where you were? How did he know where you were staying? Had he been following you?

His heart started to increase rapidly in his chest, his brain scrambling for a way out of this conversation. If it were anyone else, he would have ripped them apart and left by now. 

But some primal instinct told him if he tried, he wouldn’t be the one walking away. 

The man pulled the puck toward him, slipping it deep within his cloak, “You catch on fast. You’re right. You wouldn’t be walking away. There wouldn’t even be enough of you left to paint the walls of this disgusting building. Not even with your precious baby.”

What the fuck? He just… 

A silky chuckle emanated from the hooded abyss, “Yes, yes. Don’t dwell on it, Mandalorian. There are bigger things to worry about.” He sat up straighter. “Now, I’m assuming you don���t remember what I am. So, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. I have been employed by someone who is far too arrogant and overestimates both their intelligence and their influence.” He paused, “No… employed is the wrong word. That would imply that they are my boss, and that is simply beyond ridiculous.” He tapped the table, “Anyway, as I was saying. I have been paid by someone to find your little girlfriend. And I will not stop until I find her. There are no ifs, buts or maybes. I will find the girl. And it’ll be sooner rather than later.” 

Mando couldn’t breathe. There was a roaring in his ears. 

The man continued on, “My client has asked me to bring her back to them. And I am nothing if not a gentleman of my word, so I have promised that she will be taken to them. On one condition.” He reached behind him, unsheathing his sword and resting it on the table in front of him with a movement so smooth it could have been choreographed. “I will have her returned to me after they are done with her. For she belongs to me, truly. And I will do to her whatever I see fit.”

A deadly fury rose within Mando like a tidal wave at the disgusting possessiveness in this mans words, but it was diminished when he saw the blade.

As long as his arm, a metal so black it sucked the very light from the room. There patterns within the surface, liked it was folded back onto itself again and again, until it was virtually indestructible. The centre of the blade and its hilt were etched in gold with symbols that Mando didn’t know. 

But he recognised them. 

With a sudden clarity, it came rushing back to him. 

As a child, he was told bedtime stories, of a terrifying phantom of death. He rode the night sky, which answered to him. He slipped through the shadows and into people’s minds. He could kill a man from the inside out without touching him, reduce him to a screaming pit of fear, so tortured that he would tear out his own eyes. 

He left behind no trace. He killed without mercy, without remorse for he had no soul. 

There were rumours that beneath his hood, lay the head of a monster, so vile and cruel that the deepest pits of the galaxy spat him back out because they were too good for someone like him. 

There was even talk of him in Mandalorian culture. Warnings. 

This being was the one thing that a Mandalorian should never engage in. For he would make even the most skilled hunter or assassin cower. He had slaughtered in the Mandalorian wars, killed thousands on either side and then returned later to suck the souls out of the dead. 

There were multiple names for him in Mando’a, the two most prominent being Werda which meant shadows, or more commonly, Haran. Translated, it meant hell, or cosmic annihilation, as he was said to be older than time. Older than the galaxy. He was death. 

Haran chuckled softly, “Ah, I thought that might stir up some memories. I admit, I was surprised when I learned that the Mandalorian’s knew who I was, and even warned you about me. As if they believed that would save you. I thought you were all… what’s the phrase? Ori'buyce, kih'kovid. All helmet, no head."

He might throw up. Mando might throw up right here. He couldn’t wrap his head around what was happening. A fucking myth, a legend told to Mandalorians and people across the galaxies, was sitting opposite him. 

He was real. 

He could speak Mando’a better than some of his fellow Mandalorians. 

He wanted you. 

Haran was caressing a gloved finger up and down the edge of his blade, “I am going to get her, Mandalorian. She will be mine. She has belonged to me since the moment she was born, our fates entwined like threads of time. I will have her back by my side, and I will teach her everything that she is. I will help expand her past the limits of what she can be. She will be unstoppable. Indestructible.” There was a hunger in his voice, a hunger that struck genuine fear into Mando’s heart. 

Mando croaked, the only thing he could manage, “What are you talking about?” 

Haran tiled his head again, his movements stilling, “She never told you?” That irresistible voice actually sounded surprised, then he chuckled, “Oh, that’s interesting. She’s obviously tried to forget who she truly is. No matter, I’ll show her soon enough.” He appeared to be thinking about something, then his cloaked head tilted up and Mando knew he was watching him. 

If he even had eyes under there. 

“You can go and run off to her now. But you won’t be able to save her.” Such simple words, spoken with such a casual knowledge, a man used to being right. 

The Mandalorian didn’t even think. He lurched from his seat, numbly pressing the button on his vambrace that had Grogu’s crib following him. 

He had to get back to Peli. He had to get back to the Crest. He needed to find you, needed to take you somewhere far away, somewhere where you’d be safe from this monster.

“Wait.” 

The man caught Mando’s arm as he made to go past him, gripping it with an iron strength that seemed to reverberate throughout his bones, root him to the spot. He couldn’t move. 

“I tell you what. I’m a generous man, so I’m going to give you a head start. I’ll be here for the next seven days. After that, I’ll be making my way to Nevarro. And I will lay waste to anyone that tries to stand in my way. ”

Mando couldn’t speak, his tongue had frozen to the roof of his mouth with that same phantom grip. He could only make a choked noise, a growl that sounded as threatening as he could. 

The man laughed again beneath that fucking hood, letting go of the invisible grip and sheathing his blade, “Better hurry… Lori.” 

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[edenmemes]

hades sentence starters

❝ somebody else came through earlier. you should have seen the look on my face when it wasn’t you! ❞ ❝ let’s forgive each other and forget, go back to how things used to be? ❞ ❝ right now i wouldn’t talk to me if i were you. ❞ ❝ i’ll have to pick up the pieces somehow, and figure out how to get on with my existence. ❞ ❝ we have caused such violence in the intervening time, that we must take this as a real victory. ❞ ❝ i’ll wait for you however long it takes. ❞ ❝ i’m sorry. but this is something i have to do. you wouldn’t understand. ❞ ❝ the only one responsible for all of this is you. and i thought even you would have understood that by now. ❞ ❝ i don’t like it when you’re quiet for too long, what’s on your mind? ❞ ❝ what is it with you gods talking behind the backs of all your friends? ❞ ❝ the world you seek out there...it’s even crueler than the one you know. ❞ ❝ look, i don’t hold grudges, you know that. ❞ ❝ i’m worried you’re going to burn yourself out if you keep pushing yourself past your limits. ❞ ❝ your lapse in judgement here is not so easy to forgive, yet easily punished. ❞ ❝ i didn’t mean to lose my temper with you. ❞ ❝ the fates are pretty mean to keep on doing this to you. ❞ ❝ i hardly think this is the time or place to indulge your overwrought imagination. ❞ ❝ for our sparring practice, there's no teacher than the real thing. ❞ ❝ they say a lot of things about me; and they’ll tell you, ample caution is in order. ❞ ❝ either your limitless power has considerably waned, are you are up to something. ❞ ❝ i risked everything by helping you out there. ❞ ❝ my voice is nothing but the crunch of gravel underfoot compared to yours, which soars as though on wings. ❞ ❝ to doubt is an important instinct. without it, we could not conceive of better circumstances than the ones we know. ❞ ❝ let’s not set a bad example for the family. we’re better than all that, they’ve many bad examples as it is. ❞ ❝ you are persuasive like your mother, and determined like your father. ❞ ❝ if you think for an instant that i shall go easier on you, you’ll soon learn otherwise. ❞ ❝ is clinging to a memory what keeps the soul from fading? ❞ ❝ don’t know what it is about you, but i feel like i can be me with you, you know? ❞ ❝ war, much like the heavens and the sea, can be considered as a force of nature. ❞ ❝ if you know that you could only see me for but a moment’s time...would you still make the journey for me? ❞ ❝ i, too, wish for a lot of things. unfortunately there’s no unraveling the fates’ patterns. ❞ ❝ i left when it was necessary. i thought of you and hoped you’d understand. ❞ ❝ all of which you think you have achieved was merely handed to you. ❞     ❝ the past me, it’s as though...it wasn’t even me. this is me, now. ❞ ❝ in war, one must take sides, and you had best choose mine. ❞ ❝ i do not act by whim or by mistake. ❞ ❝ i just don’t understand. why keep on being nice to me, like this? ❞ ❝ you’re so much more than what you said. i wish you could see that. ❞ ❝ it’s really nice, sometimes...knowing somebody really cares about me. ❞ ❝ my father? he’d not a one redeeming quality. ❞ ❝ we can learn from our mistakes or we can keep repeating them. ❞     ❝ there’s nothing you can do to hurt me. ❞     ❝ soon doubtless it’ll be your portrait hanging on that wall back there. ❞ ❝ just don’t go starting any wars you don’t intend to finish. ❞ ❝ you do something for me, in the meantime: don’t give in to what you’re feeling now. ❞ ❝ it is not often i attempt to kill someone and they survive. bravo! ❞ ❝ why does the soul remain, after the body bleeds, and dies, and turns to ash? ❞ ❝ all gods and goddesses are to be feared. ❞ ❝ what more could i have even done? could i have swayed you, in any other way? ❞ ❝ i tried, with all my might, with all my heart, you must know that, and still, it never was enough. ❞ ❝ i’m pleased to see your father’s stubbornness is manifest in you as such determination. ❞ ❝ i’m really starting to hate you. you know that? ❞ ❝ know that i am grateful for the outcome. even if i fail to act like it ❞ ❝ i’m with you every step. then i will probably ignore you like the rest. just warning you ahead of time. ❞ ❝ i only wish we met sooner, though i’m grateful to have met you at all. ❞ ❝ you work too hard. live a little. ❞ ❝ i warn you: i shall hold nothing back. ❞ ❝ that’s something very private that you’re asking... ❞ ❝ use caution with the tone you take with me. ❞ ❝ if you have any sense remaining in that head of yours, i caution you not to discuss this here and now. ❞ ❝ you saw something in me i never knew was there. in turn, with you, i felt....calm. whole. ❞ ❝ i only know that i was filled with rage. ❞ ❝ the fates decided this for us, i guess, and so...who are we to complain? ❞ ❝ i pray the fates not ruin all your dreams as they did mine. ❞ ❝ what’s the worst that could happen? ❞ ❝ they left their mark upon the world. shall you? ❞ ❝ your mockery of me may temporarily embolden you, but achieves nothing useful in the end. ❞ ❝ what exactly is it that makes you feel entitled to show me such disrespect? ❞ ❝ i’ve got to admit, you are really frustrating, you know? ❞ ❝ i seem to have this whole ‘easy-to-underestimate’ thing about me. ❞ ❝ you seem a little quieter than usual. dare i even say a little somber and remorseful, for some reason? ❞ ❝ it’s because i like you. in case you still have some misgivings about that. ❞ ❝ keep following that heart of yours. it’s good enough a guide, believe me. ❞ ❝ you always seem in good spirits, though. ❞ ❝ i cannot change the past. and there is only so much i can do about the future. ❞ ❝ a loving heart is a forgiving heart. ❞ ❝ just in case it hasn’t been made clear as crystal lately, let me tell you: when presented with the opportunity, don’t ever reject me. ❞ ❝ you know, i got to say i had a few concerns when we first met, your father being who he is and all. ❞ ❝ i like it when my prey bites back. ❞ ❝ my attempts at making peace are going to be rather subtle for your tastes. ❞ ❝ you'd best not take for granted my affection yes, i’ve lots of it to go around; but i can just as easily rescind such privileges. ❞ ❝ don't be messing with my feelings. my loyalty's hard-won and quickly lost. ❞ ❝ the truth is i’m a lover, not a fighter. ❞ ❝ if i may say? you’re a hell of a guy. ❞ ❝ you truly take me to the best of places. ❞ ❝ death shall come. either to your enemies, or you. ❞ ❝ a mortal’s life is short, and fraught with pain; is that truly the life you yearn for? ❞ ❝ you think you are superior to me? you are a fool. ❞ ❝ even i have doubts, from time to time. ❞ ❝ i wasn’t expecting to make any new friends here anytime soon. ❞ ❝ i grow angry merely thinking of your situation. ❞ ❝ i wanted to apologize for when i pried about your past. ❞ ❝ nobody gets out of here, whether alive or dead. you think i jest? you think i haven’t tried? ❞ ❝ they got me, finally, of course. but not before i broke them first. ❞ ❝ you are immortal, but in a manner, you can die. ❞ ❝ you have a lot of nerve --- but little else. ❞ ❝ oh, you look terrible, if i may say. ❞ ❝ you’re either naive or you’re much too kind, or both. ❞ ❝ despite whatever difficulties you’ve encountered, again and again, you have never yielded. ❞ ❝ though, that war? don’t ask me about it again. all right? ❞ ❝ you may not make your father very proud, but it is just the opposite with me. ❞ ❝ even i’m beginning to fear you, i think. seems i don’t know you as well as i thought. ❞ ❝ you have a worried look about you. spare me your thoughts? ❞ ❝ names are there to be forgotten. ❞ ❝ it’s not your fault. you couldn’t have known. ❞ ❝ i know it’s not been easy for you. ❞ ❝ you honor me...i have done nothing to deserve this. ❞ ❝ oh, how i hate to fight with you like this! ❞ ❝ follow your heart? that’s odd advice, especially from you. ❞ ❝ the fear of death keeps mortals well in check. you’d best learn to fear something yourself. ❞ ❝ you are going to get me in a heap of trouble before all is said and done. ❞ ❝ i'll hear no more such wicked lies, half-truths, or quarter-truths. ❞ ❝ well, if you won’t say it, i’ll say it. good-bye. ❞ ❝ i know of no one, nothing stronger, other than the love we share. ❞ ❝ i’ve some memories i’m not quite ready to give up on, yet. ❞ ❝ you seem less warlike than the rest. ❞ ❝ can’t always trust what feelings say. ❞ ❝ my temper i shall keep in check, but only barely so. ❞ ❝ i am unmade, unwhole, here in this place, alone. ❞ ❝ my past is not really worth mentioning. ❞ ❝ you may not really need me, but i will take these opportunities to help. ❞ ❝ you sound a little tongue-tied. just like you always used to around me. ❞     ❝ you should be ashamed of yourself, and learn your place. ❞ ❝ this look like a shoulder to cry on to you? ❞ ❝ ...you know who you sound like right now, don’t you? i can’t believe this. ❞     ❝ i think, deep down, you are still that inexperienced little godling that you used to be. ❞ ❝ i always had doubts the gods were listening. that they could even hear. ❞ ❝ i was just checking up on you, just...let me know if you wanted to talk, for any reason. ❞ ❝ if there’s one thing i know, it’s that the three fates always get their way. ❞ ❝ hey, you’re not alone. you’re not alone, ok? ❞ ❝ you're not exactly easy to approach, you know. ❞          ❝ i grieve for you, my friend. ❞ ❝ are you lecturing me about healthy relationships with family? your family is the most broken and corrupted in the history of the entire concept. ❞ ❝ you think you can just walk away from me? ❞ ❝ how about it, then? care for a drink, with me? ❞     ❝ you are entirely too young to have had meaningful experience with loss. ❞ ❝ something the matter, there? or have you come to torment me some more with idle chat? ❞ ❝ you will find me waiting for you once you get here. every single time. ❞ ❝ men worship ares willingly; they are so much like him. ❞ ❝ while love’s the force that brought me and countless other’s low in life, it also brought me and countless others strength. ❞ ❝ others shall always doubt me. you may doubt me. ❞ ❝ beware the narrow distance between hastiness and swiftness. ❞ ❝ a crashing wave or thundering tempest are nothing to a broken heart. ❞ ❝ think back on when you started all of this. you now know so much more. are capable of so much more. ❞ ❝ as ever, you think only of yourself. ❞ ❝ this is where you belong. you feel out of place? where would you even go? your place is here. ❞ ❝ your path is yours to shape as you see fit, regardless of the fates’ design. ❞ ❝ you’re no god! you’re nothing but a piece of trash, born into all of this. ❞ ❝ you seem to have me all figured out. and here i thought we were still getting to know each other. ❞ ❝ are there truly no depths to which you would not stoop? ❞ ❝ leave me be, and don’t think you’re going to be so lucky next time we meet out there. ❞ ❝ you have the tendency to ask too many questions. ❞ ❝ i smell the blood on you. you are severely wounded. ❞ ❝ don’t be messing with my feelings there. my trust is hard-won and quickly lost. ❞ ❝ if you wish to test the fine relationship we’ve built, why then, i can confirm you’re testing it, all right. ❞ ❝ don’t ever take me for some thoughtless nymph to be manipulated. ❞ ❝ don’t get on my father’s bad side like that and you’re going to be fine. ❞ ❝ how’s your endless toil treating you? ❞ ❝ i’d never trade my bow for all that pomp and armor. but, to each their own. ❞ ❝ let me see you now for what you truly are. ❞ ❝ was i deceived, in thinking this of you, of us? ❞ ❝ i get what i want around here. ❞ ❝ don’t you understand i’m trying to fix the problems you caused? ❞ ❝ the gods are on my side, not yours. ❞ ❝ don’t you dare look at me like that. ❞ ❝ life isn’t particularly fair. i’d have expected you to know as much. ❞ ❝ i’m leaving. try and stop me. ❞ ❝ you have no concept of which impulses to act upon, and which to keep in check. ❞ ❝ when i inevitably, inadvertently trample all over your feelings at some point, please tell me, all right? ❞ ❝ you don’t even know who i am. who i was. ❞ ❝ won’t you come back to me? when you are able, please. come back. i shall be waiting here, however long it takes. ❞ ❝ never met a god that bleeds like you. red. like a worthless mortal. ❞ ❝ i got to hanf it to you. you don’t back down. you don’t ever back down. ❞ ❝ i’ve a tip for you: don’t be slow! ❞ ❝ you can’t escape your problems. you have no choice but to confront them, and work through it, sooner or later, one way or another. ❞ ❝ i knew you had a more sinister trick at play, because your fighting style certainly is of no concern just on its own. ❞ ❝ i...feel awful. i...i have to go. ❞ ❝ once people set their minds to certain things, it can be difficult to show them other possibilites exist. ❞ ❝ there’s something that i’ve wished to tell you: there’s no shame in your upbringing. ❞ ❝ i have known too many far too proud to accept help, even when it was sorely needed. ❞ ❝ may you yet come to your senses. ❞ ❝ i have virtually done everything within my powers to prevent this. all of it...for nothing. ❞ ❝ you can’t be serious. you’re going to pretend as though it never happened? ❞ ❝ seems i’m left to thanking myself, since you’re too proud to do it. ❞ ❝ fight like i’d fight out there. ❞ ❝ what have i done to deserve such scorn? ❞ ❝ you left, without so much as telling me good-bye. ❞ ❝ you’ve such weak blood, and such a temperament... ❞ ❝ i am very, very sure i haven’t murdered anyone. ❞ ❝ i am truly blessed simply to have made your acquantince. ❞ ❝ you wish to take advantage of my pity? ❞ ❝ it comforts me to see how far you’ve come. ❞ ❝ i’ve always wanted to kill a god. you’ll have to do. ❞ ❝ you don’t have to give me something in return, it was a gift! ❞ ❝ you know i’d take you if i could. ❞ ❝ you shut your mouth right now, with that. ❞ ❝ it’s never been an easy time for me. ❞ ❝ why do you think i keep on showing up? ❞ ❝ who might you be, wandering all the way out here? you’re trespassing on private property, you know. ❞ ❝ i’d rather have you as a friiend than as a foe. ❞ ❝ really, you’re kicking me out? why? ❞ ❝ you’re funny, but you’ll break. they always do. ❞ ❝ you must think that i abandoned you. you think i had a choice?❞ ❝ you’re stuck with me forever. remember that. ❞ ❝ you know these heroes by their deeds, not by their character. ❞ ❝ some would question the destruction which you sow, but i shall never do so. i fully understand your impulses. ❞ ❝ you’re quite effective at locating me, but not so good at leaving me in peace. ❞ ❝ you don’t need me & i don’t need you. ❞ ❝ you lived through all that? ❞ ❝ my heart soars, knowing you live. then it breaks, that our time together was so brief. ❞ ❝ you’ve only me. and i have only you. ❞ ❝ sulk in your chambers all you like, for i care not. ❞ ❝ where did you go...? what did you do...? ❞ ❝ monster! you have no bearing, grace or courage! ❞ ❝ you’re beneath the notice of the gods. i have earned their favor. ❞ ❝ your youth provides you with a certain mindless strength. ❞ ❝ wait. i don’t think i owe you any favors, here. ❞ ❝ you appear to have grown stronger since when last we interacted. ❞ ❝ please...it was never my wish to hurt you. ❞ ❝ death is your only family. ❞ ❝ i too was born of darkness, but i chose the path of light. ❞ ❝ don’t know how come everybody doesn’t sing. lightens the mood, passes the time. what’s not to like? ❞ ❝ you come from the bowels of hell. this is not your place. ❞ ❝ heroes? mere mortals, same as all the rest. ❞ ❝ offend me, and i’ll drain the last traces of colour from your cheeks. ❞ ❝ punishment is not the path to rehabilitation. ❞ ❝ you’re nothing like your father. i mean that as a compliment. ❞ ❝ i just hope that their intentions are as pure as they appear. ❞ ❝ don’t be sad, pretty much everybody dies sometime. ❞ ❝ i’ve done some things that maybe aren’t great. ❞ ❝ actions beat intentions. ❞ ❝ look! i’m grinning ear to ear! ❞ ❝ my fits of anger come and go just like the tides. ❞ ❝ you know, i’d rather have my eyes put out, but thanks for offering! ❞    ❝ you will need to face your fears someday. ❞ ❝ true wisdom only comes with age. ❞ ❝ something has stirred within your heart. i can always tell. ❞ ❝ or...wait...what is this, did you just ask me out? ❞ ❝ i’m getting awful sick of seeing your smug face, time, after time, after time. ❞ ❝ your humility is matched only by your perseverance in the face of adversity. ❞ ❝ your stubborness shall only bring you pain. ❞ ❝ sometimes, our hearts become so full that they could burst. if only you could see how much i care. ❞ ❝ let’s see if you’re as skillful as you think. ❞ ❝ wait, you’re not serious. that famous sense of humor shining through. ❞ ❝ i’m surrounded by my family, but i always feel alone. ❞ ❝ i shall make myself quite clear in one respect: i fear i have a lack of patience for discussion. ❞ ❝ thought i might find you all the way out here. although, quite frankly, i’m surprised you’re still alive. ❞ ❝ absolute silence is my general preference. it may not be yours. ❞ ❝ i just like to see you menacingly smile. ❞ ❝ don’t tell anyone about this, understand? ❞ ❝ i told you i don’t need your help. ❞ ❝ you’re much too modest for someone with such a number of heroic deeds to their name. ❞ ❝ if anybody asks, we’re even. ❞ ❝ we had a lovely time getting to know each other. we laughed, we cried! ❞ ❝ what’s the matter, you gone soft or something? ❞ ❝ be sure to add those to the list of words you’ll eat someday. ❞ ❝ you know i’d do just about anything to aid you. ❞ ❝ you again. i told you to stay clear of me. ❞ ❝ in spite of all your efforts, it is probably the case that you still have a long and painful road ahead. ❞ ❝ you’ve always cared for me. i can’t ever repay you for that. ❞ ❝ i just thought i’d say, that was well fought back there. ❞ ❝ hush, it’s the god of trash, come once again to filthy up this place. ❞ ❝ changed your mind yet, or looking for more pain and suffering? ❞ ❝ maybe get some sleep or something? you look pretty beat. ❞ ❝ look, i’ve got a reputation to uphold. ❞ ❝ your father’s quite the big shot around here, but that means nothing to me, understand? ❞ ❝ you don’t have what it takes. nobody does. ❞ ❝ there’s no returning to the way things used to be. ❞ ❝ can i offer you some words of advice? get over yourself. ❞ ❝ fear is for the weak. ❞ ❝ you now what i like about you? the way you bleed. ❞ ❝ may all the death you bring become the stuff of legends told in fearful mortal whisperings around the world. ❞ ❝ i just happen to think you deserve better than you’ve got. ❞ ❝ no love without pain. ❞ ❝ failure is the greatest instructor of all. ❞ ❝ i think you feel like you have some sort of fearsome reputation to uphold. ❞ ❝ you know what? i think we’re finished here. ❞ ❝ i know you’re not in a good spot right now. ❞ ❝ what you’re attempting is impossible. ❞ ❝ i’m not your practice partner, fool. ❞ ❝ i know you don’t mean any harm, but it just isn’t something i discuss with anyone, ok? ❞ ❝ first you defy me openly, and now you lie. ❞ ❝ admit it. you can’t stop thinking about me. ❞ ❝ i’d like to be alone again, so you go on ahead. ❞ ❝ maybe this might numb the pain a bit. ❞ ❝ something’s troubled me a little, about you. ❞ ❝ your failure is quite easily imagined. how often it recurs! ❞ ❝ found this, thought of you and all that, so...here. ❞ ❝ how i love these unexpected little run-ins with you. ❞ ❝ what brings you back around this way again? ❞ ❝ now what’s the matter? it’s like you’ve been up feasting day and night, you’re barely standing, everything ok? ❞ ❝ first i found you, i was certain that you had no chance at all. ❞ ❝ if it wasn’t you proposing it, i’d like to call it madness. ❞ ❝ i'll sleep when i’m dead. ❞ ❝ thank you for not forgetting about me. ❞ ❝ you must see plainly, then, what your birthright amounts to: you’re no better off than any of us here. ❞ ❝ i’ll do my best. for both our sakes. ❞ ❝ the world is not all lies and deceit as you make it out to be. ❞ ❝ you fight so desperately. at first i thought you simply lacked in patience. but now i see it’s urgency that drives you. ❞ ❝ you don’t know who or what you’re dealing with. ❞ ❝ who are you to judge, you misbegotten, shameful, unfilial maggot? ❞ ❝ you’re getting real predictable, you know. ❞ ❝ no one can avoid taking sides forever. but you can take the more sensible side, at least. ❞ ❝ ahh, so you are taking pity on me, then? ❞ ❝ thank you for making me feel welcome in your pleasant home. can’t say the same for most places i’ve been lately. ❞   ❝ i would very much prefer to think we both know better than to let old grudges stew forever. ❞ ❝ nothing is ever perfect, right? no matter how hard you try. ❞ ❝ while i know what you meant, i don’t want you to say such things again. ❞ ❝ look at you, you’re hurt there pretty bad. ❞     ❝ i can’t be completely sure but, what you said just now i think contained some of the component pieces of a compliment? ❞ ❝ don’t fall for mortals. use them if you must, but do not waste your love on those who waste away. ❞ ❝ you’re stubborn. however, so am i. ❞ ❝ you think me cruel, yet know nothing of cruelty. ❞ ❝ you just stick with me, i’ve always time for you. ❞ ❝ you look a little down and so i was just wondering, would you perchance fancy a song right now? ❞ ❝ i get the feeling we’re starting off on the wrong foot. ❞ ❝ a harsh winter is coming for you. and i’m afraid you’ve brought it on yourself. ❞ ❝ i was unkind last time. forgive my indiscretions there...or don’t. but i wished to apologize. ❞ ❝ don’t suppose i can talk you into fighting back this time? ❞ ❝ go occupy yourself someplace else. ❞ ❝ don’t feel bad! it had to happen! but if it’s any consolation, it’ll probably happen again! ❞ ❝ you’re running from yourself. ❞ ❝ wine does have a rather special way of making everybody look even more beautiful than ever. ❞ ❝ i am not interested in having company, especially from you. ❞ ❝ my faith is prone to shakiness sometimes. ❞ ❝ you’re not your father, thank the gods. ❞ ❝ i’d ask you to join me for a drink, but i know you’ve a task ahead of you, and liquor dulls the senses. ❞ ❝ you’re more stubborn than your father. i never thought that such a thing was possible. ❞ ❝ remember, next time, that on my whim i can take everything from you. ❞ ❝ haven’t we had more than enough of each other by now? ❞ ❝ i get the feeling i’m being watched. ❞ ❝ you’ve berated me repeatedly and often. ❞ ❝ you ever lose somebody dear to you? ❞ ❝ as you grow long in years, perhaps you shall learn better judgement as to whom to trust, and whom to never, ever disrespect. ❞ ❝ sometimes things weigh heavily on me, but then i hear from you, and it’s like i don’t have a care in the world. ❞ ❝ stay focused on the hunt, and it’ll help keep the pain at bay. ❞ ❝ you are just so spontaneous, and i’ve a liking for that sort of thing! ❞ ❝ no one gets out of here, whether dead or alive. ❞ ❝ what is it that you’re after, really...? ❞ ❝ don’t take my silence the wrong way, all right? ❞ ❝ that’s terrible...wish there was something i could do to help. ❞ ❝ your unpredictability is one of your assets. ❞ ❝ do not throw away your life as i did mine. ❞ ❝ you do not take all your defeats to heart, do you? that’s good. ❞ ❝ the fates can twist intentions. i don’t want to take the risk. ❞ ❝ sometimes you make me feel alive again. ❞ ❝ why...i was much stronger once, than this... ❞ ❝ sometimes i wish i knew more about your past. ❞ ❝ you shall not goad me into anger with a petty insult such as that. ❞ ❝ we’ve been through a lot, and i think we’ll be going through a lot more yet. ❞ ❝ feelings we shared...they faded, with time. ❞ ❝ learn well to shut that foolish mouth of yours, or i shall shut it for you. ❞ ❝ i knew so many warriors who would throw away their lives for glory, believing that the gods were on their side; refusing to consider that their opponents felt the very same. ❞ ❝ you didn’t need to vent all that inner turmoil onto me throughout my life. ❞ ❝ swear to me that you shall never repeat what you are about to hear. swear it! ❞ ❝ sometimes i wonder what’s going through your head. ❞ ❝ i can do this. i can do this. i can do this. ❞ ❝ i heard you got yourself into another mess that needed cleaning up. ❞ ❝ you have a good heart. keep listening to it. ❞ ❝ you picked sides, and things are not the same. ❞ ❝ all the terrible choices i’ve made. by the time you have existed for as long as i have, pray youo will have made fewer. ❞ ❝ i must admit i have grown fond of you. ❞ ❝ please open your mind to the fact that there are those who care about your wellbeing. ❞ ❝ i know you mean well. from the bottom of my heart, i thank you truly for the thought. ❞ ❝ how can somebody be so brash yet hate to take unnecessary risks? ❞ ❝ i know we can’t exactly change the past, but we can try to move forward. ❞ ❝ you didn’t answer my question. though, you know something? forget i asked. ❞ ❝ just checking in on you, but i’ll be on my way again shortly. ❞ ❝ you would speak to me of foolish mistakes? ❞ ❝ do not question my power. ❞ ❝ there is no point in doing it but pride. and pride is dangerous. ❞ ❝ i must admit, your strength of will is quite inspiring. ❞ ❝ i don’t hate you. i don’t think i can ever hate you. ❞ ❝ i've decided not to kill you. no sport in cornered prey. ❞ ❝ i never thought i’d hear you talking about looking forward to working. you feeling alright? ❞ ❝ it has been far too long. although, the passing of the time was very kind. ❞ ❝ i have been thinking on this for some time, and i’ve a declaration i must make: i shall hear no more of your silver-tongued lies. ❞ ❝ oh good, somebody’s here to save me from myself. ❞ ❝ i wonder how much more insulting you could be. ❞ ❝ may i have this dance for old time’s sake? ❞ ❝ no matter how far you run, it doesn’t make your problems go away. ❞ ❝ i ever tell you you’re a real sweetheart? because, if not, i’m telling you right now. ❞ ❝ oh don’t worry, i’ll be back in fighting shape in no time. ❞ ❝ it’s not that i’m upset or anything. you know i’m not, but truthfully i’m a bit annoyed. ❞ ❝ you’ve got quite the fighting spirit in there, i have to say. ❞ ❝ ...answer me something. what am i to you, exactly, as of late? ❞ ❝ if you’ve not anger enough for it yet, you’ll learn, i promise you. ❞ ❝ i shall bring desolation upon those who wrong you. ❞ ❝ you know nothing of tempers if mine is your frame of reference. ❞ ❝ let me save you lots of future suffering: i happen to be the jealous type. ❞ ❝ i was really hoping we could change the subject. please? ❞ ❝ finally you cleared the mess you caused. ❞ ❝ i never grew accustomed to the air, up here. it gusts senselessly whichever way it pleases. ❞ ❝ i need your help with something. as i’m about to risk it all. ❞ ❝ love tends to blossom in the strangest places at the strangest times. ❞ ❝ normally they grovel, then they scream. they shut up eventually, but not you. at least, not yet. ❞ ❝ you know, you ain’t near as bad as i’d heard! ❞ ❝ so now you know. but, only half the truth. ❞ ❝ you are and always will be an insufferable brat. ❞ ❝ they say both gods and mortals are notoriously poor at estimating how long it takes to get anything done. ❞ ❝ flattery never got me anywhere with you to begin with. doesn’t mean i won’t keep trying. ❞ ❝ i’m warning you, i’m not susceptible to bribes. many have tried. ❞ ❝ by my estimation, you have slain at least a thousand souls. ❞ ❝ everyone’s saying i went easy on you. ❞ ❝ no, on quite the contrary i’ve been under no impression that avoiding conflict is an option here. ❞ ❝ you really won’t tell me anything about you? you’re just going to leave me to speculate, forever? ❞ ❝ fears, i think, are born of ignorance. ❞ ❝ i don’t exactly know the ways of mortals. ❞ ❝ it’s not just you swept up in all this nonsense now. you didn’t ask for me to get involved but what did you expect? ❞ ❝ if only i had wisdom such as yours, so that i was more capable of picking up on subtle jabs and insults such as that. ❞ ❝ did i detect some hesitance on your part just then? perhaps you knew that you were making a mistake. ❞ ❝ i need you in my life! how can you just...turn me away like this? ❞ ❝ no. no mournful speeches. now get out of my way. ❞ ❝ you needn’t lavish me with your faint praise. ❞ ❝ our memories are warnings. when you have lived as long as i have, you come to understand your weaknesses. ❞ ❝ you speak none of this, to anyone! ❞ ❝ it seems to me your strength outweighs your smarts ❞ ❝ you’re really too much for me sometimes, you know that? ❞ ❝ you speak as one who’s not experienced war. ❞      ❝ you’re looking kind of down. normally you’re all smiles, for whatever reason. ❞ ❝ your heart shall never carry you astray. ❞ ❝ it almost sounds as though you’ve broken up with me. ❞ ❝ come now, i don’t think that’s anything to be concerned about. ❞ ❝ where did you steal that kingly blade you’re brandishing about? it seems ill-fitting for one such as you. ❞ ❝ you overstep your bounds with me. but i shall make you fall right back in line. ❞ ❝ if there’s one thing i’ve learned since we met, it’s that the trust we share is at the very foundation of our relationships. ❞ ❝ it is woefully infrequent that i’ve cause for this, but i do have to thank you. ❞ ❝ so you’re realizing now that your entire image of me came from your imagination, is that it? ❞ ❝ sorry, my lips are sealed. how about we change the subject? ❞ ❝ you mistook me for someone who blindly follows orders without considering the implications. ❞ ❝ you, in a healthy relationship? why yes, that i have to see. ❞ ❝ you won’t tell me anything about you? you’re just going to leave me to speculate, forever? ❞ ❝ oh, would you look at whom i found, all by their lonely self. ❞ ❝ sometimes our tempers get the best of all of us. you’re fortunate mine didn’t get the best of you back there. ❞ ❝ you really need to learn to stop meddling in others’ affairs. ❞ ❝ was just thinking about you. ❞ ❝ the mortal concept of what constitutes as a hero is absurd. ❞ ❝ i may not be the one to kill you. but i’ll soften you up for whoever does. ❞ ❝ i have been waiting for a special moment to confess my great appreciation for your deeds. this moment’s special enough, isn’t it? ❞ ❝ all mortal life is fragile; it simply is a struggle to survive. ❞ ❝ it wasn’t any of my business to pry into your personal life. i should have asked. ❞ ❝ what do you say we deal some death together? ❞ ❝ the more you step away from your responsibilites, the less you shall want anything to do with them. ❞ ❝ what we were once, i wonder if it’s but a falsely ringing memory of mine... ❞ ❝ in all your boundless intellect, i’d have expected you would know i see through your intentions, plan as day. ❞ ❝ ii shall not lie to you again. that much, i swear. ❞ ❝ oh, i don’t have the heart to keep exacting vengeance on you. ❞ ❝ privileges are earned, not begged for. ❞ ❝ i thought we had an understanding. but, this wouldn’t be the first time i was wrong about someone. ❞ ❝ i have every confidence you’ll someday clamber from the shadows into the light. ❞ ❝ no paradise awaits you. ❞ ❝ did you miss me? i thought i’d steal away a bit and that together we might make up for lost time. ❞ ❝ when blood is spilled and death is dealt, i simply cannot remain discontented for too long. ❞ ❝ unlike my present company, i do not ask too many questions. ❞ ❝ what’s life without a little pain. ❞ ❝ i would do anything that you would ask of me. ❞ ❝ such a waste, all for your foolish pride, that you should care more to be remembered by those you shall never know than to be loved... ❞ ❝ look, if you don’t feel the same way about me at this point, i would rather know. ❞ ❝ you chose to die in glory, not to live in peace...and all for what? ❞ ❝ what’s the matter there? gone awful quiet. did i hurt your feelings? ❞ ❝ please, if not for your sake, then for mine...do not return. ❞ ❝ you blame your ancestors for your own weakness? ❞ ❝ i still grow frustrated with myself quite often and don’t always know whom to turn to. ❞ ❝ i’ll just remain here, comfortably at rest, for some untold millenia. ❞ ❝ the world has a limitless capacity for pain. ❞ ❝ well, if you do require some emotional support, know that i likely shall be standing over here. ❞ ❝ you’re not fooling anybody with your feigned benevolence, you know. ❞ ❝ i'm just an old killer, yet you treat me like i’m the one who’s royalty around here. ❞ ❝ life and death are inextricable, and war is often what connects the two. ❞ ❝ someday or night you shall look back on this, and thank me. ❞ ❝ i can no longer tolerate my life here in this place. ❞ ❝ they said you were headed this way. i said i’d stop you. ❞ ❝ if you were being too pushy, you better believe i would have put you back in your place, royalty or not. ❞ ❝ i am leaving, even if it kills me. ❞ ❝ hey, can’t ever be too careful when it comes to people’s past and feelings and stuff, right? ❞ ❝ should you ever go to war...do look me up. i imagine i would take your side. ❞ ❝ have you given any thought to just...leaving me alone, and going back to wherever it is you came from? ❞ ❝ and here i was beginning to think we had something special going. ❞ ❝ i’m worried you’re going to burn yourself out if you keep pushing yourself past your limits. ❞ ❝ whoever it was you used to be, i believe you’ve changed. ❞ ❝ i’m no mere mortal. ❞ ❝ i suppose this must be what it’s like to be a god. being shown affection such as this. ❞ ❝ admittedly i was quite good at it, but i was nothing other than a killer. ❞ ❝ no need to get emotional, is there? i’m not the sentimental type. ❞ ❝ all that pent-up rage behind your smiling words... ❞ ❝ don’t ever fall for mortals. use them if you must, but do not waste your love on those who waste away. ❞ ❝ i was never terribly fearful of gods. they seem to have their struggles much like mortals do. ❞ ❝ i would ask you to think of your well-being for the time, not mine. ❞ ❝ must say you’re very good at hiding your worries. ❞  ❝ anger fades. anger burns hot, then burns out. what’s left is a dull ache. ❞ ❝ you have much to be proud of. you’re a great warrior. a great instructor. a great friend. ❞ ❝ you must know the seven types of love by now, don’t you? why, i have several types of love for you! ❞ ❝ sometimes i fear i shall develop some sort of grudging respect for you. ❞   ❝ as you grow long in years, you gain more burdens and responsibilities, until they bind you. ❞ ❝ you’re being very nice to me, and that makes me suspicious, understand? ❞ ❝ you like me? i never thought, i...don’t know why that sounds so strange, coming from you. ❞ ❝ just know that...if you feel the way i do...you know where to find me. ❞ ❝ i still have feelings for you, i think. ❞ ❝ you’re a god. i’m telling you to learn to act like one. ❞ ❝ we were invincible together, weren’t we? though, i have never missed those days... ❞ ❝ i like being on my own and all, but it’s been nice, talking to you like this. ❞ ❝ you’ve done more for me than i’ve any right to expect, from anyone. ❞ ❝ the heart can make us do the strangest things, can’t it? ❞ ❝ i would never have been remotely prepared for everything i’ve had to face, if not for all your guidance. and i don’t just mean the violent stuff. ❞ ❝ you’re not so bad, you know that? careful with that, or you’ll undermine the ruthless reputation you have. ❞ ❝ well, for all his failings, i’m thankful that he did not teach you how to hate. ❞ ❝ i don’t know that i hate anybody, really. ❞ ❝ why am i never proud of you? don’t take it personally. i’m never proud of anything. ❞ ❝ there are a myriad of tales to be told, of both great deeds and of vainglorious defeats, and this has been a tale that falls somewhere in the middle. ❞ ❝ why your path keeps on crossing mine, i’ve not the slightest clue. ❞ ❝ there is no replacing your presence. i felt that before we ever met, and now i know for sure. ❞ ❝ mortals are so bent on clinging to their lives, that many among them would gladly kill for it. ❞ ❝ listen to me. i don’t know how else to put this, but, i want you to come home. ❞ ❝ i think we understand something of loss, now, don’t we? ❞ ❝ hey, look, i can tell you’re struggling right now... ❞ ❝ you must know i often hunger for destruction, almost uncontrollably at that. ❞ ❝ you still have no idea how to be up front with me, do you. why don’t you tell me why you’re here, and what you want. ❞ ❝ the destruction you have sown, the sheer carnage...nothing can surpass that. ❞ ❝ i do not think i ever would have asked for help, at any point, because...i don’t entirely know how. ❞ ❝ but hope alone is worthless without action, is it not? ❞ ❝ as bloodshed has become somewhat of a necessity in my situation, i am very grateful that you’re with me in this. ❞ ❝ many mortals strive for greatness all their lives, never quite realizing there is no existing formula for it. not even a specific definition for it. ❞     ❝ there are aspects of my country that i miss, from time to time. the stark, bright beauty of that strange, wondrous land. ❞     ❝ pride is perhaps our family’s worst trait. ❞ ❝ i think for many of us, it can come as a surprise to learn that love and war often go hand in hand. ❞ ❝ you don’t have what it takes. ❞ ❝ had a feeling i would find you all alone out here. ❞ ❝ quit messing with my heart. ❞ ❝ swear something to me. that you’ll discard your fears about our bond. ❞ ❝ each time we fight...i think i learn a little more. ❞ ❝ you’re nothing to me anymore. ❞ ❝ say, you must know a lot of big shots, don’t you? other gods and all that? ❞ ❝ i trust, from time to time, you stop to ask yourself how come you choose to fight. ❞ ❝ you cannot change the course that has been set. try all you like. ❞      ❝ we don’t all share the same demeanor, nor see eye to eye. though all of us, i think, wish you the best. ❞ ❝ i’ve known great men throughout my life, and i can always tell when someone’s better than their circumstances. ❞ ❝ i am quite capable of making your life plenty difficult. ❞ ❝ i bet whoever it is that loves you...it’s because of who you are. ❞ ❝ i lay the blame entirely upon you, yes. who else? ❞ ❝ i think, deep down, you are not the heartless harbinger of retribution that you want everyone to think you are. ❞     ❝ in my domain, you either find your place, or you learn your place. ❞ ❝ you have no idea how good you’ve had it here. maybe someday you’ll come to understand. ❞ ❝ do not mess with me right now. ❞

[negasonicimagines]

Revelation; Part Two (NSFW)

All the warnings and details you'll need are in part one. Enjoy!

As soon as they return to the mansion, Yukio and Ellie immediately go to their room. Wade gets up from where he was sitting on the floor, slowly stepping aside. The girls rush in to comfort you but a wall of scent leaves them dizzy with pheromones.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so glad you’re here,” you weep. The scent of your slick seems more intense, but maybe you’re just more aware of how turned on you are. The girls strip off their super-suits, joining you on the bed.

You practically tackle Ellie, burying your face in her neck.

“Mm, even better than I imagined…” you moan, starting to roll your hips so your soaking cunt can get the friction it needs on her thigh. Ellie carefully pushes you off of her, and you recline in the position you were before.

“Easy, sharpshooter. What the fuck happened? How are you in heat?”

“S-suppressants, not antidepressants, fake father, Wade,” you slur, explaining as best as you can.

“Wade,” Ellie and Yukio realize in unison.

“So, right now, you’re having not only your first heat, but a heat after years of taking suppressants,” Ellie fills in the blanks, and both she and Yukio look horrified.

“Mhm,” you confirm, “Need you. Both of you.”

“Of course, baby,” Yukio accepts, looking over you. Neither of them have seen you this stripped down before.

“Wait,” Ellie stops her, and you. “How do we know you actually want this? You’ve been really uncomfortable with the idea of sex until now, what if it’s just the heat? You literally said you don’t want to have sex today, like, two hours ago.”

“You don’t trust me?” You question, looking absolutely devastated.

“Y/N,” Ellie groans. “Of course I trust you, I just don’t want to hurt you. I love you. We love you.”

“It hurts. Please love me, Alpha,” you beg.

“Look at her, Ellie. She needs us,” Yukio adds.

“Fine. But we start out slow. Very slow. And if I get even a whiff of doubt or discomfort, we stop. Understand?”

“I need…” you whimper, clutching at your stomach as it continues to twist in pain.

“What is it, baby?” Yukio asks.

“I don’t know,” you sob, burying your face in your hands and squeezing your thighs together. “Just need it so bad, please.”

Both girls quickly shed their underwear, like the urgency of the situation is finally hitting them.

“So, the roses I smelled earlier…” Ellie trails off, feeling even worse. Not only is it not some other omega, it’s your heightened state of emotion, a sign of how much you want her and Yukio both.

Yukio gasps.

“Oh, Ellie, we can finally…” Yukio trails off.

“You’re gonna have to give a little more detail than that, Yukes. We’ve been looking forward to a lot of different things.”

Yukio whispers in Ellie’s ear, and the girl turns red before nodding.

“What are you gonna do to me?” you wonder.

“Well, if you want, we could both use our mouths on you at the same time,” Ellie reveals.

“Please,” you try to convince them to give you what you need. “Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely…” Yukio teases, like it’s not taking all her strength not to knot you right where you lay, propped wide open for the taking. It’d be so easy, and she could even try to have you to herself all week, and even though it’s probably impossible, you might have a baby. Oh, they’d be just the cutest, the perfect combination of her and you. What if you had twins? Or triplets? She’d never be able to tell them no once they flashed her your signature puppy eyes.

“Yukio,” Ellie snarls. “You’re panting. And drooling. She’s mine, too, remember?”

“Trust me, I remember,” Yukio snaps back.

“Alphas,” you whimper, and it’s like a switch flips. Their tongues battle for dominion over your most sensitive place, and your hips roll forward, desperate for more.

Ellie eventually concedes, giving your inner thigh some special attention that makes you squirm while Yukio devours you. The completely new sensations cause a tension to build in your stomach that you’ve only heard of.

“Oh my gosh, Ellie, Yuki- Ah! Ellie, Yuki- Ah! Ellie, Yuki- Oh, oh, oh!” you moan, embarrassed at how quickly you come undone.

“Oh, wow,” Ellie says. Yukio continues to lick up, well, everything, making the aftershock even more intense. “I- I didn’t realize you’d be that sensitive.”

“Never, ever, um, even by myself, ‘cause I never had any interest, because suppressants, so…”

“So, Yukio got to give you your first… Ever,” Ellie clarifies.

“U- Um,” you stutter, feeling a bit guilty for not making that clearer.

“You’re so adorable...” Yukio sounds almost reverent, and you taste yourself on her lips when they meet yours. You moan into the kiss, face burning under Ellie’s gaze and Yukio’s touch.

Ellie’s gaze turns into a glare as the kiss draws on, and soon that glare is joined by a growl that makes you gush. You pull back from the kiss, panting.

Yukio growls back, and your arousal intensifies even further, distracting the girls from their beginning turf war. You can’t help but wonder how many hickies you’re going to get in the next week.

“You really are an omega,” Ellie taunts.

“You like it when we growl?” Yukio adds.

They look like they’re ready to tear you to shreds in the best way.

“I guess it’s your turn,” Yukio remarks, sitting down next to you. “It’s still her first time, even if it won’t be the first time she-“

“Shut up,” Ellie snarls before going in for the kill, using her tongue to make you squirm and moan. She holds your hips down and your legs thrash around her, making you look the part of prey even more.

“Calm down,” Yukio suggests to you, stroking your hair. “It’s not like it’s ever gonna stop.”

“Oh fuck,” you whine, bucking your hips despite Ellie’s grip on them.

“That’s a good girl, fuck her face,” Yukio praises, taking one of your hands and putting it on Ellie’s head, holding the other. “She really likes having her hair pulled,” Yukio whispers in your ear. You get chills, but you do as she says.

Ellie groans into you, and at this point you really are fucking her face, your other hand having found its way into her hair.

“Oh my gosh, fuck, Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you whine before unraveling again, hips still rolling like your life depends on it.

“Fucking called it.” Ellie grins proudly. “And she called me it. I think I win.”

“Oh, whichever way you slice it, I’m the one that ate our brave little be- omega first and made her fucking weep slick, so… Whatever small victories you can find, I suppose,” Yukio giggles.

“Yeah, but I’ll be the one to fuck her first,” Ellie counters.

“You really think so? I think it depends on who can get a condom on faster,” Yukio retorts.

“You trust me to pull out, don’t you, omega?” Ellie wonders, winking at Yukio.

“O-Of course. I mean, with the suppressants, even if you didn’t, it’s a one in a billion chance,” you remind her.

“Can I use my fingers to help you get ready?” Ellie asks.

“Uh-huh,” you agree, nodding as she slides one in, pumping, followed by another. Your breathing gets heavy again as she hits that divine spot over and over.

“Imagine my fucking cock hitting right there,” she breathes to you.

“Don’t wanna imagine, wanna feel it,” you plead. She adds a third finger. “S-so full, alpha…”

Yukio hands trail along your body carefully, as if you’re a priceless artifact she’s trying to appraise. She seems okay with letting Ellie have this, despite the fight she put up before. It’s probably the best compromise, you all know, because your first orgasm is something Yukio has that Ellie can never, now.

“Is this still okay?” Ellie wonders as she slips her fingers out of you, sliding them into Yukio’s mouth. The girl moans, cleaning them off eagerly.

“Yes, I promise,” you agree, and Ellie positions herself, unintentionally teasing your entrance. “Ellie, please.”

Her hips snap forward, but she’s careful not to push her rather swollen knot in. It throbs every time it presses against your entrance, where every nerve in her body is begging her to shove it in.

The two of you sync up so quickly it’s almost romantic, you meet her thrusts perfectly and her cock does feel amazing when it pushes up against that spot deep inside. She’s practically got you folded in half as you whine and whimper and moan.

You instinctively start to rub your clit, but Yukio pulls your hands up and away.

“You’ve had your turn, let us have ours,” she tells you rather calmly.

“B-but it’s too good, I need…” you weep.

“Oh- Oh f-“ A strangled noise catches in Ellie’s throat and you feel her cum spurt into you as she hastily pulls out. “Uh- Oh. Oh, wow.”

Yukio moves around you to get a look at whatever Ellie’s blushing over.

“You should be ashamed,” Yukio teases, playfully popping Ellie’s shoulder. “Giving our innocent little omega a creampie her first time. She looks really cute with you dripping out of her, though. Almost good enough to eat. Almost.”

Yukio pulls out her own member, and you watch her stroke herself, Ellie mouthing at her neck between their passionate kisses. Her strokes speed up gradually until ribbons of her orgasm splatter right onto where you’re starting to feel neglected, with a soft little moan from her that makes you throb even more.

“Fuck, it’s so pretty. Sit up, Y/N, look,” Ellie encourages. Her cum has mostly flowed out of you and onto the sheets, while Yukio’s paints you. Speaking of Yukio, she trails a finger up your tarnished slit, sliding it into your mouth. You taste the salty sweetness of all your juices combined and give a pleased hum, almost not wanting to let her finger go.

“Hmm… Now it looks good enough to eat,” Yukio confirms. “Wanna try to share again?”

“Absolutely,” Ellie agrees. The two girls lick up the mixture of their cum and your arousal as you tremble, squeaking and whining more than you actually moan, too sensitive to do much of anything other than lie there and take whatever they want to give.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip and your toes curl as you’re finally allowed release once more, but they don’t stop, despite your shaking.

“A-Alphas, what are you… What… I… Oh, oh, please,” you weakly implore them, so far gone that you’re not even sure if you’re asking them to stop or keep going.

After another orgasm, they come back up to check on you.

“So- So much,” you say, in response to “Are you okay?”

“So, I’m gonna go with water break time,” Ellie chuckles, opening up a bottle before opening your mouth with her hand. You let her help you drink.

“Good girl,” she praises, and you blush as Yukio stares you down.

“You should have a bath, too,” she suggests. “We can all take it together.” The jacuzzi sounds great for your aching muscles.

“Can you walk?” Ellie asks. She wasn’t particularly rough with you, but considering nothing that big’s ever been up there before…

You nod, already starting to feel normal, or, well, at least at what’s probably the baseline of this whole heat thing. You get up from the bed and immediately collapse into a heap on the ground, knees having turned to actual jelly at some point over the past hour.

The girls can’t help but snicker before helping you back into bed.

“I’ll go draw the bath. Your cuddle time got cut off earlier,” Yukio remembers.

“You’re doing amazing,” Ellie praises you once more, fingers running through your hair and stroking your face. “Such a good girl. Such a good omega. My omega.”

“My alpha,” you whisper back, before burying your nose in her neck. Ellie tightens her embrace.

“Thank you for letting us take care of you like this. You’re being so brave, sharpshooter, I- I know you were really nervous. I want you to know, y’know, as happy as I am you’re an omega— And that’s really, really happy, by the way. —I’d be just as happy right now if you were a beta. I love you. We love you, and we’re so grateful you trusted us with this.”

“Thank you. You smell good and I love you,” you tell her, not able to articulate much beyond that.

“You too,” she chuckles.

Yukio emerges from the bathroom, and Ellie helps you hobble over, both girls giggling and giddy at your stumbling.

“So, we’re probably gonna have to take another week off, huh?” Yukio notes, trying to sound sympathetic, but both girls can’t help their proud grins at how they’ve already fucked you to pieces and they’ve barely even started. This week is gonna be great, and so will the next, blissful and full of aftercare.

“Mhm,” you whimper. The girls help you into the bath, stripping off their remaining undergarments before joining you.

The warm water is such a comfort that your eyes involuntarily slip shut. Its embrace soothes your sore muscles, and your breathing slows. Yukio starts carefully scrubbing your arm with a lathered up loofah, holding your wrist like it’s the most fragile, priceless thing in the world.

“Hm?” You open your eyes, but Ellie slides your eyelids down with two fingers, stroking your cheek after.

“Shh… Just let us take care of you, okay? You’re always protecting us, keeping the den tidy, and you took us so well… Just relax, now.”

You do as you’re told and relax.

Ellie joins in washing you while Yukio hums softly.

“You’re so fucking pretty…” Ellie murmurs, the soft washcloth she’s using drifting down from your sensitive neck to your far more sensitive chest. You give a shallow, shaky sigh as each girl cleanses a breast, chills spreading throughout your body. Your heart flutters when Ellie’s washcloth meets your inner thigh under the water.

Yukio’s hand rests against your stomach, more specifically, your uterus.

“Yukes…” you sigh.

“I know,” she says quietly. “I was just thinking.”

It’s a bittersweet moment, but Yukio ends it before the bitter overcomes the sweet by gently washing your stomach with the loofah she was holding before. The girls switch positions and you whine needily. Your infertility can be discussed later, when tensions aren’t quite so high.

“Oh, sweetpea, are we doing something wrong?” Yukio questions teasingly.

“N- No,” you admit, brows furrowing. “I just- I-“

You’re already too blissed out to string together a coherent sentence, but you need more.

“Yeah, we can do that,” Ellie understands. You keep your eyes closed as fingers slip up and down your slit, leaning into the touch. The steam of the bath blends yours and your alphas’ scents, clouding your perception of where each girl is. You try to get a peek, but Ellie quickly, gently reminds you: “Eyes closed.”

Your chest is slowly, sensually massaged, the palms of whichever girl is doing so rubbing up against your nipples perfectly.

The alpha who was teasing you below the water before now slides her fingers inside you, making you gasp softly.

“Hmm… Good omega,” Yukio murmurs, closer to your ear than you thought she was, before nipping at it. You yelp in surprise, but the sensation has you feeling even tinglier. You lean towards Yukio, wanting to obey their limitation of your sight, but needing the comfort of knowing where each of them is. You cling to her arm, she’s now only massaging one breast and using the other hand to stroke your face.

The fingers inside you, which you’ve determined by process of elimination are Ellie’s, curl into that spot, hard, and you moan before you can quiet yourself.

“I think someone’s starting to feel ignored…” Yukio jeers, and you hear an indignant “Hmph!” from Ellie. “How about this?”

Yukio pries you off of her, and you hear movement in the water. Soon after, she pulls your back to her chest, allowing you to recline. The feeling of the alpha’s skin against yours is heavenly. She starts to massage your chest again, and Ellie resumes her activities as well, now from in between your legs.

“This is perfect,” Ellie agrees. “You are. Both of you.”

“Thank you,” you and Yukio both sigh.

You start to get restless as the girls continue to stimulate you, letting out little whimpers that sound more like impatience than pleasure.

“What is it, love?” Yukio wonders, so close to your ear again. You shudder before answering.

“Want, um… Um… Y-you… You know.”

“To cum?” Ellie asks.

“Y-yeah, but…” You rock against Yukio’s hardness, which is pressed against your back.

“Ngh, oh, okay, yeah,” Yukio agrees. “Lean back.”

You lean back, moving up and bracing yourself against the rim of the jacuzzi before sliding down onto Yukio’s dick, eyes rolling back as you’re filled by an alpha once more.

“W-wait, with this position, we could…” Ellie trails off, and you can sense Yukio’s smirk.

“I know.”

“W- What is it?”

“Well, uh, if you’re okay with it, Yukio and I could try to fit inside you at the same time,” Ellie suggests.

“That sounds nice, but…”

“But?”

“First time having Yukio,” you quietly say.

“Oh… Okay, babe, that makes sense. Maybe later?”

You nod eagerly, and Yukio starts to move a little, hooking her hands under your knees to maintain more control over you.

“E- Ellie.”

Yukio growls.

“N- No, I just… Ellie, could you rub my-“ You’re cut off by a moan that’s a mix of pleasure and pain as Yukio thrusts harder, resenting the lack of attention. “A- Alpha, I’m yours. I’m yours.”

“I- I know, sorry. Such a good omega,” Yukio quickly apologizes, sprinkling kisses all over your neck and shoulders as she takes it down a notch. Ellie summons the courage to touch you despite Yukio’s possessive burst, and you’re on cloud nine once again. “You feel so good.”

Eyes still closed, you’re caught off guard when Ellie kisses you, but you respond quickly, tangling your fingers in her hair and moaning into her mouth.

“Love you,” Ellie whispers against your lips before kissing you some more.

“El, go faster, I think she’s close,” Yukio tells your shared lover, and she obeys. Your moans rise in pitch and volume but due to your position there’s not much you can do other than take what you’re given.

“Yukio, Yukio, Yukio,” you whine in sync with her thrusts, squirming in an attempt to meet both Yukio’s motions and Ellie’s hand.

You don’t last much longer, and the way you tighten around Yukio causes her to finish as well, burying her face in your neck and groaning; likely resenting the fact that she can’t bury her teeth there, not yet.

“Well, so much for gentle aftercare,” Ellie chuckles, stroking your cheek, which honestly feels as sensitive as the rest of you.

“S-sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

Ellie helps you off of Yukio, and you nuzzle into her, embracing her.

“You two are the best alphas ever,” you mumble, eyes growing heavy again.

“We’re the only alphas you’ve had,” Ellie skeptically responds. You whimper at the perceived rejection. “Oh, but thank you. You’re sweet.”

“More than just sweet,” Yukio argues, pulling the plug on the jacuzzi. Ellie holds you as the tub drains, so you don’t get too cold, while Yukio hunts down some towels and your robes. Pink satin for her, black flannel for Ellie, and a plush F/C one is yours.

The girls assist you as you get out of the tub, wrapping you in your robe and helping you to bed before equipping theirs.

Being bundled between them is enough to keep the worst of your heat pains at bay.

“Can I open my eyes now?” You wonder, and the girls chuckle endearingly.

“Yes, Y/N,” Ellie permits, but it seems as though you could’ve done so or at least asked much sooner, based on her tone. “I said yes.”

Your eyes stay closed, so heavy that you don’t even wanna bother yet.

“Babe, stay awake. We need to talk,” Ellie insists.

“About what?” Yukio asks curiously.

“The, uh.. The thing Wade stopped her from doing.”

“Jus’ thinking about it,” you correct.

“And the Supreme Court is ‘just thinking’ about overturning Roe v. Wade. It’s still a fucking problem,” Ellie argues.

You shake your head.

“I have real medicine now, I’ll be fine.”

“You still hid it from us,” Yukio says softly, tearfully. “We- We failed you. You didn’t feel like you could tell us, your alphas.”

“Being my alphas is what made me not want to tell you. Because you can’t- Because- Because I knew it would be torture for you both if I had a problem you couldn’t fix; a need you couldn’t provide. I just wanted to protect you.”

“Sharpshooter…” Ellie looks heartbroken, and the devastation that both girls reek of makes you want to lock yourself away (or worse) so that you’ll never hurt them again.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I never meant for you to find out.”

“That’s not the problem here,” Ellie disagrees.

“Isn’t it? If you two never found out, you wouldn’t be unhappy about anything right now. I ruined this.”

“No,” Yukio snarls, wrapping her arms tighter around you, as if they can protect you from yourself. “You’re good. We… I told you, we were the ones who made you feel like it wasn’t safe to be honest with us. We’re proving you right the longer we talk about this before you’re ready to. Don’t you agree, Ellie?”

Ellie nods, seeming to finally understand.

“Can you at least promise that if there’s any other time you feel like you did then, you’ll talk to someone you trust, even if it’s not us?” Ellie requests.

“I can do that,” you concede.

“Thank you,” both girls reply, and Ellie moves a little closer, maneuvering her arms so that she’s embracing both you and Yukio, who’s spooning you.

Between the drowsy scent of petrichor, the nostalgic scent of a campfire, and your own relaxing lavender aroma, the three of you are finally soothed, and able to rest before continuing to contend with your first heat.

The next week is nothing short of an absolute fuckfest. Sure, you all take breaks for food, water, showers, et cetera. But, on what should be the final night of your heat, something causes you to stir.

The absolute need that came with your heat had waned over the week, but now it seems to be back with full force. You squirm in your half-sleep, trying to ignore it, but sense that your girls are already awake.

“Baby,” one of your alphas whispers. You’re draped across them both, all of you naked and entangled. You’re not even sure where you end and they begin right now, let alone which is which.

“Can we touch you?”

“Mhm,” you agree sleepily.

Their hands wander comfortingly, making it easier for the sandman to lure you back into his arms, but one of the alphas is bold enough to slip her fingers inside of you, sliding them right back out for some reason.

“Wow…”

“That is… A lot of slick.”

Oh.

You whine, spreading your legs for whichever one of them will touch you, it really doesn’t matter. You’re guided into one of their laps, whoever it is feels huge with no prep.

“Please just knot me so we can sleep, s’not like I can get pregnant anyways,” you request.

“Mmkay, sharpshooter, if that’s what you want.” So, it’s Ellie fucking you. That’s nice. Hers is a little shorter than Yukio’s, but she’s thicker. You fidget around, adjusting to her girth before finding that perfect angle and just bouncing.

“You look so pretty riding our alpha like that,” Yukio quietly praises, making you shiver. She plays with your nipples, hardened in the cool night air, while she touches herself. You resent your current position for limiting your sight of the other alpha, but you wouldn’t trade Ellie’s embrace for anything. “Touch that clit for us, won’t you? Cum all over her cock. Maybe you’ll even squirt again. That angle is normally what does it for you, isn’t it?”

“Oh, Daddy,” you sigh, obeying.

“No, baby, Ellie’s your daddy. I’m your mommy.”

“M-Mommy,” you whimper, continuing to squeak and moan for your two lovers as you clench harder and harder around Ellie, sinking your teeth into her scent gland as you three finish, nails digging into her already scratched-up back. When you relax, Ellie pushes her knot in. “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to without asking,” you apologize, pulling away with a mouth full of blood that both girls are just dying to taste.

“No, babe, you know I wanted you to do that.” Ellie kisses your lips, cleaning them. “Don’t worry. Can you bite Yukio, too?”

“Of course! But, um, how am I gonna get to her?”

“Don’t worry, I can wait,” Yukio reassures you both.

“But- But you’re mine, too,” you insist. “I’m yours, remember?”

“Baby, of course I remember. Maybe- Maybe I could just bite you for now, and then you can bite me and Ellie can bite you in the morning? That way everyone has a turn.”

“When are you two gonna bite each other?”

“We can do that in the morning, too,” Yukio explains. In her drowsiness, she’d forgotten that part. “Are you ready?”

“Y-Yes, Alpha,” you stutter, because while you’re ready, you’re still nervous. Yukio picks a spot with her teeth, gently pressing, as if to ask you and Ellie, ‘Right here?’

You nod.

“That’s good, Yukes,” Ellie agrees, and the other girl sinks her teeth in deep.

You moan in pleasurable pain, and Ellie’s hands grab at your hips, feeling you flutter around her.

“Fuck,” she snarls, tensing up with you until Yukio’s no longer clamped down on your neck. The pink-haired girl licks up the blood, and you start to writhe, turned on all over again.

“One more time?” you request meekly, like Ellie’s dick isn’t literally locked inside of you.

“Of course,” Ellie consents, needing it just as much as you do.

Despite your now-limited range of motion, you carefully gyrate your hips. Yukio presses against you from behind, embracing you but also letting a hand slip down, fingers rubbing circles on your clit.

“That’s it, ride that knot like a good little omega,” Yukio taunts you, and you can feel her touching herself again.

“Your good little omega,” you moan.

“Ours indeed,” Ellie reminds you both, fucking up into you as you continue. Your breathing deepens and you clutch Ellie’s shoulders tighter, burying your face in the crook of her neck once more. “Close, sharpshooter?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, the three of you entangled once again as Yukio strokes her cock and your clit, the heat radiating off of all of you intensifying your scents. “So close, wanna cum so bad,” you beg.

“Come on, baby, you can do it,” Yukio encourages. “Cum all over her.”

You whine as Yukio’s strokes become quicker for the both of you. Feeling the hand she’s using to get herself off brush against you turns you on even more, just knowing she’s getting off on this makes it even better. You can feel Ellie pulse inside you as her breathing also becomes labored.

“Cum with me, omega, please,” Yukio murmurs against the back of your neck, and you shudder, finally finishing. “Good girl… Good omega… Good girl…” Yukio sighs praise as she comes undone as well, Ellie’s orgasm falling somewhere in between yours and Yukio’s.

Ellie reclines with you on top of her, with Yukio nestled between her arm and her body. Both alphas embrace you, and the three of you finally fall back asleep.

[gophergal]

So this is the third oneshot I've finished this week (second I've posted here. The other that isn't posted here is already up on Ao3.) Don't expect this often, I just wanted to get some WIPs off my plate and I still have many to finish. This is just a short, sweet ficlet, but may have a companion or sequel later on. Who fucking knows. This is a sort of a collection of short moments with the two of them. No real plot, just fluff.

Home On The Range

Word Count: 2,000+ | Rating: T+ | Michael Myers x Jason Voorhees (Western AU) | M/M

Warnings: Implied Murder, Description of Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Failed Hanging Mention, Rushed Ending, Fluff

Samhain plodded along wearily, his rider slumped forward in the saddle as he made his way toward safety. The shootout in town, when the Shape had been driven from its prey, had resulted in Michael being shot thrice, twice in the shoulder, once center mass. He'd fled in a haze of pain and blood loss, mounted his horse, and eventually passed out.

And so that led Samhain to his current situation, following instinct to get he and his master somewhere safe, preferably somewhere with abundant food and water. The stallion stopped for a moment, ears perking up as he caught the sound of whistling coming from the valley below. A tall man, his head covered in a feed sack, was the source. The horse tentatively descended from the hilltop towards the strange man, focused on his joyful whistling.

Hearing the careful clop of hooves behind him, the large man turned, ready to strike with the ax in his hands, which he quickly lowered. Samhain snorted weakly where he stood, far away enough that the man couldn't grab him. Instead, the bag-headed man reached into a pocket on his tattered jacket, and pulled out a half eaten stick of peppermint, holding it out to the stallion who took it, eating greedily. His rough hand pet the horse's black, velvety nose and he hummed reassuringly. The horse's rider did not move, even as the tall man took the reins from his hands and led the horse away from the area.

Trees became more dense as they walked until they came upon a small cabin. Samhain's head perked up as his rider was removed from his back, and he let out a piercing whinny. The man hummed again, reassuring the distressed animal, who slowly returned to a relaxed state. Michael was taken from the horse's back, draped limply in the big man's arms like a doll. He groaned, still unconscious, but alive. After taking the smaller man into the tiny log cabin, the large man returned and removed the tack from the black stallion, running his hand along the sweaty, matted coat that had been beneath, then led the horse to a small stream by the halter, leaving him there to graze and drink the fresh cool water that flowed so freely.

Back in the cabin, Jason studied the man he'd sat on his bed, scratching his beard through the rough burlap of his hood. The dark haired man was covered with a layer of cold sweat, his face twisted in pain, even while asleep. Grabbing a basin of clean water and a rag, Jason set to work undressing the man's torso, looking at the bullet wounds that littered his flesh, nestled alongside other pale scars, some fresher than others. While dabbing the blood crusted injuries, he examined them, determining that the shoulders had been entered and exited cleanly. They would only need liquor poured on them to fight infection. The shot in the abdomen, however, looked more serious, and had no exit wound, all but guaranteeing that the offending lead was lodged within. Jason debated whether he should remove the bullet while the man was unconscious or not, deciding to finish dressing the other two wounds beforehand.

When the alcohol was administered, the man roused with a shout of pain, startling Jason, who in turn fell backward. The man looked around in panic, wearily reaching for his gun, which was no longer on his hip. There was a fire in his eyes, which Jason could now see were mismatched, one black as the horse he rode in on and the other milky white. Rolling off the bed, the man struggled to get to his feet, groaning quietly in agony. Jason approached slowly, as one would a wild animal, which earned him a glare. Disregarding this, he grabbed the man's good arm, careful to help him get seated on the mattress. He did not fight back, but kept scowling weakly, allowing his saviour to do as he pleased. With little fuss, his wounds were bandaged, the pressure of it relieving some of the aching.

Michael fell back onto the cushion, flinching in pain that radiated from his midsection. He inhaled sharply, looking over at the bag headed man who gestured to the leaking wound. He mimed pulling something out, which Michael nodded in response to. Steeling himself in preparation of the pain and biting down on the rolled cloth which was put in his mouth. His eyes screwed shut at the first penetration of the hole, burning pain blinding all his senses as the man's fingers searched for the bullet. It seemed to last forever, and Michael threatened to black out.

His stomach turned as the white hot agony coursed through him, reaching every point on his body. Finally, the man extracted his fingers, and he relaxed slightly, breathing heavily around the fabric gripped tightly in his mouth. When he looked up, the man held the bullet in his bloodied hand. Which he set down beside the basin of water. The pain had subsided enough that Michael could feel the touch of water on his abdomen as the man cleaned his wound again, and finally wrapped it.

“Michael,” he rasped, exhaling sharply and extending a hand to the other man, who said nothing in reply, instead holding his hand after shaking it, and drawing wobbly letters into his palm with a finger. He did this twice, then again, writing on his palm until Michael picked it up: J-A-S-O-N. Michael nodded in recognition, leaning back into the mattress and shutting his eyes. He let out a shaky breath, recalling what had happened in the past week. Then shoving it aside. Yet again, the Shape had led him into danger, just as it always had in search of feeding its insatiable hunger.

A few days passed with Michael resting up and Jason keeping his wounds clean. The two would sit in each other's presence, drinking in the peace. Samhain was well, happy to munch on the green grass of the field nearby. It was nice, but Michael was growing restless. His wounds were beginning to close and hurt far less than they had at first. As soon as he was well enough to ride out again, he'd go after that damned Marshall's head. The thought was delightful and served as his sole motivator for remaining at the cabin. So he told himself, that is.

The other big reason was standing out in the clearing around the back, the muscles of his arms shifting as he chopped firewood. Jason had the strength and stature of no one Michael had ever seen. Even the big bastards he'd get in fights with while swacked on whiskey were puny in comparison, though Jason didn't seem the type to fight drunkards in run down dead-fall saloons. No, he seemed like a good enough man that Michael felt no worry around him. Even if he hadn't seen the man's face, which Michael figured was his right to hide anyway, he could tell in his gut that Jason could be trusted. Michael stirred the pot of stew on the stove as he tried to figure out his plan for when he'd head out.

The more he thought about it, he began to realize that he had no idea where to start looking for Marshall Loomis. In theory, he could just go to the nearest town and start shit, then wait while word spread of his whereabouts, but that just wasn't the way Michael liked to do things. He'd much rather be the hunter, waiting in the shadows for his prey.

Jason walked in, skin still glistening from his hard work outside. It should be time for supper soon, he figured. After all, the sun was hanging low in the sky, ready to set within a couple hours. Jason stopped in the doorway, watching as Michael stood at the stove. Something was nice about watching the smaller man (and that's smaller, mind you, not small. Michael was a large fellow in his own right) tend to their supper.

It was very thoughtful of him, despite how Jason tried to keep him off his feet, lest his wounds reopen. There was also something about the scene that caused warmth to bloom in his chest. He pushed it down. Michael would leave at some point. Jason would be on his own again. He didn't even know why he'd helped the younger man.

A month later, December brought cold, dry weather and Michael sitting in front of the fireplace with Jason, whittling away at a chunk of wood. As he whittled, he made excuses for why he should stay now that his wounds had fully healed, now just marks on his skin where the skin dipped low. He owed it to Jason to repay him for all he'd done in nursing him back to health. Samhain needed time to recuperate. Things to justify his extended stay.

With a glance to his side, he stopped carving for a moment, taking in the picture of Jason, his burlap hood nowhere to be seen. His red hair burned vibrant in the firelight as he mended the hole in a shirt. Michael stopped lying to himself, knowing in his heart that he stayed for his own selfish reasons. Jason was a warm presence. Comforting in a way Michael had never felt.

It was contentment, he supposed it would be called. The closest he'd ever gotten was the come down off an adrenaline high of fighting or the fuzzy, numb stupor he would often find at the bottom of a bottle, but neither of those quite fit the word. It just felt good to be around the red haired man. Michael was good at reading people, a trait that came from many years of playing poker to pay for his needs, but he didn't need any of that to know that Jason felt the same. Michael just couldn't leave him now, he simply had no desire to.

Jason had once showed his face freely to those around him. Back when his mama was alive. He remembers the name calling, the tears Mama wiped away, the accusations after her death, the first bit of darkness when his head covered when he was to be hanged, all of the things that led to his hiding. He'd been nervous when Michael saw his face that first time. Washing his burlap hood in the stream, he'd been suddenly confronted by the brunet. His good eye scanned Jason's face with curiosity. He didn't say anything, just looked. There was no laughter or disgust, just the fire of interest, then of concern when they dropped to the faint ring of scarring around his neck. The two sat there quietly, a silent understanding forming.

That had been within the first couple weeks of Michael's stay. Now, Jason kept the hood off. Only putting it back on when trespassers came to their land, in need of disposal. Michael showed no hatred of that horrible face, but often looked at him, focused as though he were looking at the brightest star in the heavens. Jason allowed himself to hold onto the warmth it brought this time, savoring the way Michael brought him comfort.

Michael rode off to take his vengeance on the Marshall in mid spring. He'd put it off long enough, for as much as he wished to stay with Jason, true peace would not come to him until Marshall Loomis was dead and buried. There was a kiss goodbye, a lingering farewell and promise of return, then suddenly the red haired man was left alone once again. The land was emptier now without Michael. Jason busied himself with protecting their home (for now it was just as much Michael's as it was Jason's before) in the meantime.

It was incredibly lonesome, more than he'd expected. It's not as though Michael left without warning, he'd mentioned he would, and yet Jason was worried. Worried that he'd never see the dark haired man again. Had those silent confessions of adoration been lies? They never were on Jason's part, but Michael's face held no clues to the truth. He supposed Michael would been great at bluffing. It reminded him of something Mama once said: You ought not trust a poker player, Jason, they'll steal everything from you, and they'll make you feel special when it happens. He didn't want to think about that, and held on to the memory of the last time he held the black eyed man.

Days began to blend together before Michael returned on his black stallion. He'd been injured again, but nowhere near as badly. He fell into Jason's arms two months after he'd first left. He was weaker now, a husk of who he'd been. Anger no longer held him together. Jason could tell that he'd ate little and slept less since he'd been gone. His heart was simultaneously broken at the sight of his frail state and filled with his presence. He didn't want to ever let him go again. After a few days rest and many good meals, Michael looked much better physically, but something was different still.

Touching was more common than it had been before. When they sat in front of the fireplace of an evening, Jason would often find Michael reaching out for his own calloused hand, weaving their fingers together and scooting closer. Once, he pushed a curly, red lock of hair behind his ear, the corners of his mouth quirked up in an unpracticed smile. Jason melted at that first smile and every smile after. The weight that had been lifted from Michael's shoulders would never be commented on by either of them. They were simply too wrapped up in the pleasure of one other's presence and comfort to bring up that pain.

There was no pain or unhappiness in their little home that they built, not anymore. Not so long as they had each other to look out for them.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

I know you wrote a drabble where Scott is almost sacrificed at Dogwarts and wanted to ask if you could write a version of that where he actually is sacrificed.

okay so this one is an alternate ending to this one, so it’ll start off the same and branch out into a different ending. read it first/save it for after if you want a happier version lol

author’s note: due to my severe discomfort surrounding decapitation, i’ve altered the method of killing slightly

lives at the start of this fic: Jimmy - red, Scott - green, Ren - red, Etho - yellow, Martyn - green

cw: blood, strangulation

just a reminder: please do not tag as shipping :)

…

Scott is starting to regret letting the Dogwarts trio take him and Jimmy back to their base, but he can’t exactly back out now. It’s his own fault, really, for asking if there’s anything else he can do to support Dogwarts from a distance, rather than putting up their banner.

He shoots a sideways glance at Jimmy, who seems even more nervous than him. Scott resists the urge to reach out and take his hand.

Finally, they arrive at Dogwarts. Scott is more than worried to see that a new platform with torches surrounding it on all four corners has sprung up in the middle of the carrot field. It looks innocent enough but something about it gives it an ominous vibe.

Unfortunately, this is exactly where Ren leads Scott.

“What is this?” Scott asks warily, putting one foot on the step up.

“This is the Altar of the Black Heart,” responds Ren ominously. “For Dogwarts to truly achieve full power, it requires a sacrifice. The blood of an outsider.”

Scott’s eyes widen as he realises what this means. “Whoa, whoa, hold on a second!”

He backs away a few steps but bumps into Etho, who takes hold of him in a surprisingly strong grip.

Jimmy starts forward with a gasp but Martyn grabs him and pushes him down, holding him in place. “Scott!” Jimmy cries uselessly.

Ren stands on the hill just above the altar as Etho drags Scott into place and tries to hold him down. Scott struggles against Etho’s grip, causing Etho to backhand him across the face.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Jimmy screams. “SCOOOOOOTT!”

Blood trickling out the corner of his mouth, Scott coughs and tries to fend Etho off again.

“I’d stop resisting if I were you, Scott,” comes Martyn’s cold voice.

Scott glances over at him. His heart freezes as he finds Martyn holding a sword to Jimmy’s neck. “No!” he gasps. “Don’t!”

“Then hold still.”

After a moment, Scott squeezes his eyes shut and falls still, letting Etho push him to his hands and knees in the centre of the altar.

“Scott…!” croaks Jimmy. “No…!”

Scott forces himself to meet Jimmy’s terrified gaze. “It’ll be okay, Jimmy,” he whispers, just loud enough for Jimmy to hear. “Just stay strong for me, okay? Stay strong.”

“A sacrifice must be made!” announces Ren, spreading his arms to the skies. “Do the honours, Etho.”

Etho nods and raises his axe.

Jimmy looks away, starting to hyperventilate. He can’t watch this.

Scott closes his eyes.

The axe comes down hard and buries itself in the small of Scott’s back, the tip piercing his heart and killing him instantly.

Smajor1995 was slain by Etho

Jimmy starts to scream and doesn’t stop. His eyes are fixed on the spot his husband just was seconds before, tears streaming down his face. Tears of terror, of grief, of anger.

Something snaps inside him.

“Take Solidarity to the dungeon,” Ren orders. “We’ll deal with him later.”

But as Martyn starts to move, Jimmy reacts lightning fast and kicks him in the stomach with unbelievable strength. Martyn staggers back in shock and pain, allowing Jimmy to snatch his sword and slice cut after cut in his former friend’s body, not stopping despite the screams. His lust for blood has finally been awakened and he WILL avenge his husband.

InTheLittleWood was slain by SolidarityGaming

He spins round to find Etho charging at him with the axe that had killed Scott. Seeing his husband’s blood still dripping down the blade sends Jimmy completely over the edge.

His swing has so much force behind it that it knocks the axe cleanly out of Etho’s hand. Before Etho can recover, Jimmy shoves him to the ground and kneels on his chest, his hands wrapped around Etho’s throat. His eyes are so flaming red that they’re practically glowing, teeth bared in an animal-like snarl.

THIS is the person who killed his husband. Jimmy will make him pay.

Someone is trying to pull him off Etho but the bloodlust increases a red lifer’s strength and stamina, and they can’t budge him. The smell of blood is making Jimmy dizzy and disoriented, but all he knows is that he wants to kill. No, he NEEDS to kill. His desire to maim and murder is so strong that it’s all-consuming, growing inside him like lava escaping a volcano, rising up until it’s about to explode outwards and destroy everything in its path.

“STOP!” Ren’s voice yells desperately.

Jimmy doesn’t. He can sense that Etho is almost dead, and every instinct in his body is driving him forward to finish the job.

“Jimmy!”

This voice causes Jimmy to freeze and slowly release Etho, blinking against his red vision as he looks around wildly for its owner.

A hand touches his shoulder, then hugs him from behind. The cool, smooth arms… the scent of strawberries… the gentle heartbeat…

“S-Scott?” Jimmy croaks.

“It’s me, Jimmy,” whispers Scott. “I’m here.”

Jimmy slowly turns around and finds Scott’s face looking back at him. It… It really is him.

He pulls Scott into a tight hug, clutching him like his life depends on it. All the pain and anger and terror melts away, leaving only love.

Still holding Jimmy tightly, Scott carefully moves him away from Ren and a freshly-yellow Martyn as they dash to the semi-conscious Etho’s side.

“We’re even,” he says firmly. “A life for a life. There’s no need for further bloodshed.”

Ren glares back at him, but his expression softens slightly as he registers what Scott’s saying. “Really? You’d be satisfied leaving it like this?”

“Well, of course we’d still be enemies,” responds Scott. “But I want to call a temporary truce. I don’t want anyone else to die, not even any of you.”

After a moment, Ren glances over at his right hand man. “It’s your call, Martyn. You’re the one who died.”

Martyn considers Scott’s words on his own for a moment, before glancing up and happening to make eye contact with Jimmy. All traces of the bloodlust in Jimmy’s gaze are gone, replaced only with the eyes of the person Martyn used to be close friends with all those years ago.

“I accept your olive branch,” he says.

Ren nods and addresses Scott and Jimmy: “Then you two may leave this place in peace.”

“Come, Jimmy,” Scott murmurs. “Let’s go, quickly. Before they change their mind.”

Jimmy dithers as Scott takes hold of his hand and starts pulling him towards the exit. “S-Sorry, Etho,” he says awkwardly. “Sorry, Martyn.”

“Come on.”

Scott practically drags Jimmy to the gate and out of Dogwarts, only slowing down once their walls start to appear in front of them. Jimmy stays silent, letting his husband lead him.

Finally, they get into their base, which is where Jimmy takes the lead and pulls Scott into the former’s house, shutting the door for privacy.

“Jimmy, what-,” Scott starts.

“Let me see the scar,” says Jimmy seriously. “Please.”

After a moment, Scott turns around and lifts up the back of his shirt. A clean, straight mark running down his back shows Jimmy exactly where the axe entered his body. He gently traces the line with the tips of his fingers.

“I told you this would happen,” he says hoarsely. “I said they’d do this to you but you didn’t listen!”

Scott huffily pulls down his shirt and takes a few steps away. “I know, Jimmy. TRUST ME, I know! You’re just lucky they decided to go for the green lifer, not the red.”

“LUCKY?!” cries Jimmy. “Did you SEE me back there?! I murdered Martyn and nearly choked the life out of Etho!”

“Yeah, I did! I set my spawn right outside the walls before we went in and it’s lucky I did or you might’ve kept going and gotten yourself killed in the process! I can’t believe fear for your own life is what finally triggered your bloodlust.”

“What?!” Jimmy stares at him with wide eyes. “You think THAT’s what happened?”

Scott frowns at Jimmy’s reaction. “Well… I DID, but…”

“There’s a reason I’ve stayed back and tried not to get involved in any of your stupid conflicts, you know! I NEVER wanted to kill. EVER. But when they sacrificed you right in front of me, I felt the desire to rip Martyn and Etho apart like a predator with its prey. THAT’s what triggered my bloodlust, Scott! They killed you and I wanted them to suffer like they made you suffer!” Jimmy’s voice breaks and he dissolves into tears. “My bloodlust was triggered by the need to avenge you. And to make sure they never hurt you again.”

His heart breaking, Scott pulls Jimmy into another hug, letting him cry into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” he murmurs. “I never considered how traumatic that whole thing must’ve been for you. How are you holding up?”

Jimmy coughs, trying to clear his throat. “B-Better now. Please promise me we won’t ever go there again, though.”

Scott rubs Jimmy’s back soothingly, feeling Jimmy’s heart still pounding in his chest.

“I promise.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Niecest? With yandere!Huaisang?

Silver Mist - part 1/3 - ao3 

According to Nie Huaisang’s teachers, there was a small voice in people’s heads that told them what was good and what was bad, and that voice was called the conscience.

Nie Huaisang concluded, after some observation, that this was true – for other people, that was.

Nie Huaisang himself did not appear to suffer from this particular affliction.

Which was not to say he didn’t have a small voice in his head, of course he did, only he was pretty sure it wasn’t actually telling him the difference between good and evil. When he was very young, he thought the voice might be his mother, who had died (or possibly disappeared) when he was born – it sounded a bit like the way people described her, witty and enchanting, with a fox’s face and a fox’s mind.

A poisonous beauty, they called her, and they sounded almost afraid.

His mother’s voice might not have much to say on the subject of morality, but it had plenty to say on the subject of people: how to study them and learn the weaknesses even they didn’t know of, how to flatter them and lower their guard, how to deceive their eyes and minds until they did everything you wanted.  Men or women, it didn’t matter much – they were all there for the taking, ripe for the plucking, prey waiting for him to hunt them down. All he needed to do was want it and he’d be able to feast upon them at his leisure, harvest their desires for his own, eat their hearts out of their chests and pick his teeth clean with their bones.

Possibly literally.

His mother’s voice wasn’t very clear on that.

(How did a no-name no-family girl from nowhere marry a prestigious sect leader to become the second Madame Nie, a new disciple asked, laughing, not noticing how the others glared at him, what was she, a man-eating nine-tailed fox in human guise?

He didn’t last long.)

Still, no matter how much Nie Huaisang’s mother’s voice – or possibly his own – entreated and enticed him, Nie Huaisang didn’t go around convincing people to jump off cliffs or murder their spouses out of love for him, not even if he did secretly think it would be a bit funny. He might not have a little voice that told him right from wrong the way other people did, but he still had something to show him the way – something better.

He had his da-ge.

Nie Huaisang loved his da-ge.

Other people said that Nie Mingjue, the great and fearsome Chifeng-zun, was not easy to love, but what did they know? Nie Huaisang had never found it difficult. Sure, his brother was often angry, intemperate, volatile – prone to lashing out and then making it up later – cold and standoffish with those he did not trust – stern and unyielding in his righteousness, convinced of his position and unwilling to compromise – but that was all for other people.

For Nie Huaisang, his precious didi, Nie Mingjue bent his unbending spine, relaxed his rigid standards, denied his obdurate instincts, strained himself almost to the breaking point. He spoiled him and scolded him and believed in him when no one else would – he gave Nie Huaisang his heart, full and entire, laid it bleeding in his palm, before Nie Huaisang even knew that that was something he might want.

The sky could fall down, but his da-ge would still hold it up for him if he could.

And so Nie Huaisang did not, in fact, go around eating the hearts of unwary cultivators, neither metaphorically nor literally – except for a few times when he wasn’t paying close enough attention and let a little bit of that fox-face he’d inherited from his mother slip out, a handful of people falling madly in love with him and pursuing him until his da-ge beat them black and blue and kicked them out of the Unclean Realm, but no one could be held accountable for a few tiny slip-ups, surely. Nie Huaisang did not become everything that he could be, neither great nor glorious nor terrible, but rather stayed lazy and indulgent and indulged, luxuriating in his brother’s attention, whether positive or negative.

And then there was a war.

His brother was gone for months and months and months. He sent letters when he could, asked his friends to check up on him, worried endlessly about his precious little brother – but he was far away and could neither return nor allow Nie Huaisang to come to him.

It wasn’t fair.

Nie Huaisang got bored.

Maybe he also fucked his way through the Cloud Recesses, but he didn’t eat anyone’s heart in the process, so it was still mostly fine, he thought. According to the adorable stuttering version of the talk his da-ge had stumbled through for him at one point, long after Nie Huaisang already knew all about it, sex was something natural and wonderful that two people (or more) shared to express their affections for each other, nothing to be ashamed of, but also please don’t overdo it or do anything that would result in children outside of marriage, as that was more trouble than it was worth – just look at the Jin sect.

Nie Huaisang had a lot of affection to share, and avoiding by-blows was easy, with a bit of creativity; besides, there was a war on, and all those people didn’t really need their virginities, anyway.

It wasn’t enough, though. It didn’t make up for not having his da-ge.

It didn’t make up for not knowing how his da-ge was doing, because obviously he wouldn’t include details in the letters he sent and the people at the Cloud Recesses were inclined to think that Nie Huaisang didn’t need to know about the brutal realities of war, when all he wanted to know was if his da-ge was eating properly and sleeping properly and not working himself up into a stress migraine from unvented rage.

It didn’t make up for hearing that his da-ge was missing.

(He’d fucked that one out of Lan Xichen, who wasn’t supposed to say, on one of his frequent visits, licking bits of knowledge out of his mouth through grunts and thrusts and starry wide-eyed stares that seemed to be mostly puzzled at how he had been so thoroughly charmed by him.)

It didn’t make up for the sudden and horrible feeling of fright, of concern, of fear – the abrupt realization that his brother had been in danger during all this time, not merely called away by duty – the notion that he might not return – that Nie Huaisang might have to do without him forever.

And then his da-ge came back.

That was when Nie Huaisang abruptly realized that he was just too greedy to give up either his da-ge’s affection or sex, and in fact would ideally like them both at the same time.

(His da-ge had come back from the war injured. His robust spiritual energy had been drained from overuse, his strong body broken and beaten down by a force greater than him, broad shoulders bowed; his lips were pale, his limbs weak, and he clung onto Nie Huaisang as if to a savior, refusing to let him go even when urged.

Nie Huaisang liked that.

He liked that a lot.)

There was really only one problem with this little realization, beyond the obvious disappointment awaiting all of his previous lovers: unlike Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue really was possessed of that little voice that said do or don’t do, and he heard the sound of it loud and clear, even clearer than most. He was a righteous man, an upright man; even if he were to develop a sudden passion for his younger brother, who he had raised, he would die rather than act upon it.

Right, there was that bit, too – they were half-brothers, sharing the blood of the same father, but Nie Huaisang didn’t see that as a real issue. His mother’s voice laughed like a jackal when he mentioned it, and all the history books were full of salacious tales of noblemen who took twins as brides into the same bed or married someone who fell a bit too close on the family tree; the erotic works he collected as a hobby were stuffed full of such tales, and they were often among the most hotly requested for borrowing. The number of times he’d been asked to play the little didi, asking for his dearest darling gege or jiejie to give it to him hot and hard… if he had a coin for each instance, he’d be a rich man.

He already was a rich man. Maybe he ought to use some other metric.

No, the main problem was the righteousness that Nie Huaisang so admired when it was aimed at everyone but him. His brother had been making exceptions for him since the very first – why not this, too?

Still, sex was such a tricky subject for some people, and thinking back to the way his brother hadn’t looked him in the eyes for nearly a week after that initial talk, that was probably applicable here. Nie Huaisang loved his brother far too much to wish him any real harm – his brother had only the single heart, fragile and precious, and if it broke there would be no recovering it so he had to be careful – and some initial explorations, done under the guise of drunkenness, confirmed that Nie Mingjue had never considered the possibility of the two of them together in that way and almost certainly would be horrified and upset by the suggestion that Nie Huaisang had.

Forcing the issue might win him some small and temporary pleasure, since his brother didn’t know how to deny him anything, but it would shatter his brother into a million pieces to give up something so fundamental to his sense of self as his sense of righteousness.

Perhaps for someone else, that would be enough to convince them to stop.

Not so Nie Huaisang.

He was too greedy, too spoiled. He wanted what he wanted – his da-ge, in his bed, wanting him – and he’d never been denied anything he really wanted before, least of all involving his brother.

He went to his brother’s room at night.

“Da-ge,” he said with a smile. “Let me brush your hair.”

His brother grumbled something about being tired but acquiesced at once, accustomed to Nie Huaisang’s petty dictatorship of their household. He sat in front of a mirror and Nie Huaisang settled behind him, slipping his fingers into his brother’s hair and rubbing against his scalp until he could feel the tension in his brother’s body start to dissipate. He chattered as he worked, speaking of nothing and everything, and his brother at first responded with grunts and hums and occasional comments but soon enough succumbed to the feeling of safety and security and home, slipping as he relaxed into a state not unlike meditation.

He’d trained his brother well.

Normally, Nie Huaisang would only take a little advantage of his touch-starved brother’s torpor, which rendered him so very agreeable, asking for favors or presents or excuses – he’d won his first visit to the Cloud Recesses in just this way, not to mention authorization to start his aviary. In normal times, he couldn’t push too far, since what Nie Mingjue might agree to in a daze might not survive his temper when he’d returned to full sobriety, but Nie Huaisang had recently been watching his brother’s new sworn brothers using musical cultivation to soothe his brother’s ever-present temper, and it had given him all sorts of ideas.

It was easy enough to adjust his voice – Nie Mingjue wasn’t really listening to him anymore anyway – and to modulate his tone into something very near to a melody, the cadence quickening and slowing, rising and falling, infusing it with his own very special cultivation, and it wasn’t long before his brother began to instinctively incorporate the music into his own cultivation just the way he did when it was his sworn brothers who were playing for him. The situations were largely similar, after all, what with there being meditation, music, and a younger brother he trusted.

The fact that the melody was different from what Lan Xichen played, the instrument a voice rather than a guqin, was unimportant; as Nie Huaisang had hoped, his poor nearly tone-deaf da-ge either couldn’t tell the difference or didn’t care to. Nie Mingjue’s own talent took care of the rest, spreading the effect of the music through his entire body at double-quick pace, sinking him deeper and deeper into his pleasant, comfortable rest.

Nie Huaisang smiled down at his beloved brother, his fingers still deep in his hair even though the braids had long ago been fully taken out.

He leaned down and whispered in his brother’s ear, “Wake up.”

His brother’s eyes opened – but they were glassy and blank, unseeing and empty.

Nie Huaisang’s smile widened, and in the mirror he saw a grinning fox’s face where his own ought to be.

“It’s me, da-ge, it’s Huaisang,” he said, voice coaxing, his tone still half-singing. “You love me, don’t you?”

Slowly, as if his head were terribly heavy, his brother nodded.

“And if you love me, you must trust me.”

Another long, slow nod.

His smile widened still more, and the fox’s face gave way to the fox’s voice, which, it was said, could stir up the hearts of men and lead them to their doom.

“Because you trust me, you will listen to me, believe in me,” he crooned in his brother’s ear, watching in delight as the words were carried by the unconscious habit of cultivation straight into his brother’s core. “Whatever I say is how things are. Whenever you hear me hum this tune, you will remember that, won’t you?”

His brother’s brow wrinkled, just a little, instinctively fighting the spell for a moment, but Nie Huaisang pressed harder, with his cultivation and with his fingers digging into his brother’s temples, and after a moment habit kicked in, the tension released, the words accepted, the trance state complete.

His brother was as docile as a doll, as impressionable as wet clay.

His beautiful, wonderful da-ge.

For this first outing, he would not push too hard. His mother’s voice urged caution, care – the prize could not be won in haste, and if there was one quality Nie Huaisang did not lack, it was patience. He would move slowly, gently, and in the end he would get everything his black little heart desired.

Just like his mother had.

“Your didi, Huaisang, is special,” Nie Huaisang murmured in his brother’s ear. “He needs special care and love from you. You know that already, don’t you? That’s why you’re always so permissive with him, so indulgent. That’s why you let him touch you, even when you don’t let anyone else. Even where you don’t let anyone else.”

He let his fingers slip down his brother’s chest to settle into his lap, tracing lightly over the outline of his cock, even though he couldn’t really feel it through all the layers.

“You let him touch you here, sometimes,” he whispered, and the words flowed in with everything else. “And sometimes, as a treat, when he’s been good, you touch him back, make him feel good. It’s not wrong. Not when it’s Huaisang. It’s normal, natural, as easy and unremarkable as breathing – you don’t say anything about it to anyone else, but why would you? You don’t tell people about ruffling his hair, either.”

His da-ge’s eyes stared blankly into the mirror. He did not object.

“You’ll forget about this conversation when it’s done,” Nie Huaisang told him. “Every time I hum this song for you, you’ll return to how you are now, nice and relaxed and quiet and listening, and when you wake up you forget it, every time. That’s normal, too, and nothing to worry about.”

That should be enough for today, he thought. A small adjustment, yet well within the realm of what he could play off as a laugh if the spell didn’t take – and if it did, it would edge his da-ge’s mentality a little closer to what he wanted, to a world where his righteous brother didn’t perceive that there was anything wrong with bedding his own half-brother, his little spoiled fox that he loved so much.

Each future time he took his da-ge down into the quiet, he would reinforce the command, move him just a little closer to there – it would be like replacing a single item in a room at a time, moving so slowly and delicately that the person in the room didn’t ever realize that the room had completely changed.

“Time to wake up, da-ge,” he said, and snapped the connection between them.

A moment later, his brother’s eyes cleared up.

“Are you still not finished?” Nie Mingjue complained, as Nie Huaisang had all but expected. “Some of us wake up early, you know.”

“I was being thorough!” Nie Huaisang protested, rolling his eyes at the mirror and watching his brother smile at him. “You’re always telling me to be! It’s all ‘work on your follow-through, Huaisang’, ‘don’t give up halfway through, Huaisang’, ‘finish what you set out to do, Huaisang’ –”

“All right, all right. Off with you. And go to bed this time, I don’t want to see you at breakfast with circles under your eyes because you stayed up until dawn again, you hear me?”

Nie Huaisang raised his hands in surrender. “Da-ge’s so mean,” he pouted. “I do all that hard work for da-ge, working until my hands hurt, and da-ge just sends me away to bed?”

He got an eye roll in return. “You’re the one who barged in here and insisted on it!”

“I still did it! That means I deserve a reward,” he insisted, leaning back on the bed, spreading his legs.

A hint, although it could be laughed away as innocent if needed.

“You’re so spoiled,” his da-ge complained, but he stretched out his arms high above his head, twisting and cracking the air out of his back and neck, and seemed pleased enough by his improved flexibility. “All right, all right. You big baby. You can’t do anything yourself, can you?”

“Nope,” Nie Huaisang said with a grin, watching as his da-ge climbed onto the bed next to him, his expression open and free and relaxed, and started to open Nie Huaisang’s clothing as if it was the most normal thing in the world to do, his hand sliding down to wrap around Nie Huaisang’s cock as if he’d done this a hundred times before – although the clumsiness of the action suggested otherwise. “I depend on my da-ge for everything.”

“You really do,” Nie Mingjue grumbled, starting to pump Nie Huaisang’s cock firmly. Nie Huaisang made a happy sound, bucking his hips up encouragingly – he’d been hard since he first walked into the room, and honestly the feeling of a plan working out just as he’d intended was very nearly as good as the actual physical pleasure of having his da-ge’s hand on him for the very first time. “What am I going to do with you, Huaisang?”

“Many things,” Nie Huaisang giggled. “Many, many things.”

[mylittlemystery]

Tongue Tied

Summary: for someone who usually had such a way with words, it was a rare occurrence for Gundham to find himself at a loss for them.

A/N: I have a total of three brain cells remaining, and all of them have been starving for some ‘lee Gundham content.

Sonia glanced up from her book when she felt the mattress dip beside her, and a warm smile graced her lips once she recognized it was none other than her boyfriend. “Gundham!” she chirped as she marked her place and set the book aside on her nightstand. Reading could wait until later - spending time with her lover was much more important. “How can I help you?”

Surprisingly enough, Gundham was rather quiet. He wasn’t usually one to actively seek out physical affection, so this situation was already strange enough as it is. He rubbed his forearm rhythmically, multicolored eyes taking up a striking interest in the wrinkled bed sheets beneath them, and his typically pale skin almost looked like it had been airbrushed with a baby pink hue. “U-um,” he muttered under his breath, already quiet words muffled even further by the large scarf covering his mouth.

Sonia’s previously cheerful expression melted into one of careful concern, and she scooted her body closer to the other’s after a moment’s hesitation. “Gundham? Is something the matter?” she inquired softly before resting a palm atop his bandaged hand. “If there’s something bothering you, you can always tell me…”

“N-no!” Gundham exclaimed with a sudden ferocity as he snatched his hand away. Immediately realizing that he had raised his voice a little too much, he recoiled back into himself like a wounded puppy. “It’s nothing like that,” he elaborated in a much gentler tone than before. “It’s just...I...I just…”

Sonia found herself at a loss for words for a moment as well - she had never seen the ordinarily prideful man in such a state. She knew that it was impolite to pry, but she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving the other like this. “Just what?” she echoed softly, raising a hand to cup one of those flushed cheeks.

Gundham flinched ever so slightly at the unannounced physical contact, but he made no move to stop his lover’s advancements. “W-would you…” It wasn’t that he had wanted to pause - rather, it was as if his very voice had been abruptly ripped away from him. Damn it...he was feared by countless beings, both mortal and supernatural alike! He shouldn’t be so easily overcome by such a harmless request! “...Would you perform that mortal ac-activity with me again?” he finally managed to choke out.

Sonia blinked obliviously, taking a minute to recall the events the two had participated in during the past week. “Do...do you mean tickling…?”

Judging by how red the other’s face grew at the mere mention of the word, it appeared that her shot in the dark had landed. “If...if that’s what you call it, yes,” Gundham murmured, seemingly trying to bury his head in the protective cocoon his scarf provided.

It was safe to say that Sonia’s heart melted at this downright adorable reaction, and a tender grin spread across her mouth. “Aw, of course I can!” she gushed without truly meaning to - seeing her boyfriend like this was just too cute for her to handle. “There’s no need for you to be so embarrassed over something like that.”

“F-foolish girl! An Overlord such as myself does not fall prey to such trivial enchantments!” Gundham insisted in an attempt to recover some of his lost ego, but it wasn’t very convincing when he still couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with the other.

Clearly, Sonia didn’t buy the act (if her bubbly giggle was anything to go off of, that is). “Alright then! Lie down so we can do this properly!” she instructed merrily as she gave his chest a delicate prod.

Gundham did as he was told, face practically turning into a radiator with how much heat was pouring off it, laying on his back with his arms crossed like a little beetle stuck on its shell. His legs began fidgeting ever so slightly, feet toying with the top sheet beneath them anxiously. It was clear he was nervous, but not in the typical manner one might expect; this was a giddy sort of nervousness, one a child might experience when playing tag with their friends.

Sonia definitely wasn’t going to take this opportunity for granted, and she took some time to relish in the sight presented before her. The Forbidden One was as red as a tomato, his gaze focusing anywhere but on her own, and his normally carefully guarded body was being offered to her like the greatest gift she ever could have imagined. It made a sense of immense humility blossom within her heart; she felt absolutely honored to be trusted by the other to this extent. Finally, figuring she had kept him waiting long enough, she slipped her hands underneath his shirt and began skittering her well kept nails along the seldom touched flesh.

It didn’t take long at all for Gundham to burst into a flurry of tiny titters, his hands instinctively lowering themselves to push at those of his lover. “Nnnnnh! G-guhuhuhahahaaa!” His smile was much softer than his ordinary sneer, closed eyelids wrinkling at the corners with forced mirth, and his laugh sounded much lighter as well.

“You have such a wonderful laugh, Gundham,” Sonia gushed without really realizing it. “I’m so happy you’ll let me see you like this...all giggly and flustered!” A few giggles of her own mingled with those of her lover’s as she watched his plethora of reactions, her fingers continuing their devious dance along the expanse of quivering flesh.

Gundham didn’t think it was possible for his face to grow any redder than it already was, but this line of complimenting proved him sorely mistaken. He turned to bury his head into one of the many pillows beneath him, hoping that this would succeed in hiding his atypical demeanor, but all this did was result in the earlier scratches turning to gentle kneading. He barked out a laugh as he instinctually brought his knees to his chest, or, rather, into his beloved’s lower back.

Sonia clicked her tongue in mock chastise at this, shaking her head solemnly as if the other was nothing more than a particularly naughty pet. “Trying to hide yourself away from my claws?” she hummed as her formerly adoring smile morphed into one of a much more devious nature. She couldn’t help herself - she took a great fondness in teasing her brooding boyfriend to smithereens. “Silly dear...you know they’ll just find a way to keep on tickling~”

Gundham couldn’t hold back his yelp of surprise when he felt one of those dangerously long nails twirl inside his navel, and he fell into a bundle of chest shaking chortles. Words certainly seemed to hold an immense amount of power over him, what with his frantic clambering to hide his face behind his forearms, so it was no wonder that these sultry laden quips were making him feel weak in the knees. Still, he had to keep his composure. He wouldn’t dare surrender to something so light hearted!

“That’s right, love. Giggle all day!” Sonia cooed as she gradually let up on the area, her fingers idly tapping against the still quaking abdomen. “My goodness, you’re all aflush! I suppose not even the Supreme Overlord of Ice is a match for the Tickle Monster…”

...On second thought, he was surely going to die here. Swallowing down the antsy lump in his throat, Gundham affixed the best glare he could manage given the circumstances against those icy blue eyes. “You...you truly are a wicked enchantress…”

An unusually dark titter slipped from Sonia’s lips as she batted her lashes down at her captive innocently. “But of course~! And now that I’ve got you in my clutches, I have to wonder just what I’ll do with you…” She raised her hands so they were now at her sides, fingers wiggling in anticipation, looking the other up and down like he was the tastiest meal she’d ever laid eyes upon. “I could keep playing with this ticklish tummy for a while…”

More deep chuckles escaped from Gundham as the scribbling on his stomach resumed.

“Maybe I could play piano on your ribs…”

Delicate tapping soon followed, earning the princess a trifle of squirming.

“Maybe I could burrow under your arms…”

Said action won an outright snort.

“I could even play This Little Piggy with your toes~!”

Though she made no actual followthrough to these words, Gundham couldn’t help but bury his feet into the mattress protectively.

“Or maybe…”

The Dark Lord’s heart skipped a beat at the sudden silence that overpowered the room, his gaze trained on the surely rising claws of his demise. He felt so utterly meek in this position, so inconsequential and powerless, and it made an unfamiliar feeling brew in the pit of his stomach. Perhaps this was what humans meant when they referred to another as being bashful…?

“I’ll get at that cute little neck of yours!”

Gundham was rudely tugged away from his inner thoughts by the horrid sensation of...well, he didn’t quite know exactly what it was, but it was enough to make him explode with powerful belly laughter. “AHAHAHAHAHAAAA!” His lower half thrashed to and fro violently as if his very existence itself was determined to escape this predicament. “WH-WHAHAT IS THAHAHAHAHAT?!”

“What, you’ve never had a raspberry before?” Sonia asked dumbfoundedly, momentarily dropping her sadistic creature act. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at things), she recovered just as quickly. “Well then, I’ll guess we’ll just have to make up for it now~!” Preparing herself with a dramatically loud inhalation of breath, she blew against the other’s typically concealed neck once again.

To say that Gundham was hysterical would’ve been a major understatement; his throaty cackles were reverberating off the walls with the intensity of a clap of thunder. “NOHOHOHOHOHOOO!” he wailed desperately as yet another raspberry was delivered, creeping up to the edge of his sanity, clutching the other’s long strands of hair weakly. “IHI YIEHEHEHEHELD!” he cried out at last. “M-MEHEERCEEEHEHEHEE!”

With this dire call for reprieve, Sonia ceased her consensual torment immediately. Her smile melted back into the warm one others were more accustomed to seeing, and she delicately rubbed her thumb underneath the edge of his jawline. “Oh, love...I’m sorry, I got a bit carried away,” she mumbled sheepishly. “I do hope I didn’t go too far...did I?”

Taking some time to steady his breathing to a level he was satisfied with, Gundham gently shook his head. “I...I found that to be quite...entertaining,” he admitted in a hushed whisper, as though he was uttering a forgotten secret, his eyes shifting around the room awkwardly. “Th-thank you, my bunny…”

Sonia felt her own face grow hot at the sound of the beloved nickname, not hesitating to plant a kiss of appreciation on the tip of the other’s nose. “Of course!”

Gundham sighed as he wrapped his arms around her slender frame. She was a devious little minx, that much was for certain, and he’d managed to get tightly coiled around her little finger...

[caprina-mints]

Could we maybe get a scenario where EJ is in heat and doing the dirty with his s/o if that’s fine ówò

So This Became a Oneshot Because I accidentally made it a bit too Long! But I Hope everyone Enjoys This Though! : )

Type : SMUT

Word Count : 4208

E.J's HEAT

As Usual it's like any other Day at the Mansion being part of this bizarre family is really one heck of a ride. You never know what could happen like anything could happen. Anything.

You're fresh meat. You just joined the family two months ago and getting used to everyone and their behavior was a real pain in the ass.

But surprisingly you clicked well with Toby and E.J the two both have a unique and striking personality but the one that intrigued you the most was Jack.

He gives off a cold and mysterious vibe and you just can't help but to have your curious eyes gleaming at him. You two got along well and he told you a little bit of everything when it came to the human anatomy.

He's a bit over protective of you maybe it's because he sees you as a trusted friend? Well during those 2 months You and Him became a little Mushy together and a week earlier he has been acting extremely weird.

Like, He'd growl if another male creep came near you or even talked to you. He's around you all the time and the only place you're actually alone is your bedroom.

He kept tugging and nudging you just to get his attention and whenever you give him any form of physical touch he'd purr and lean onto you .

He's become very clingy and from the looks of it. It wasn't good judging from the looks the creeps were giving you.

They knew something You don't. Today you were sent on a Job which is unusual because you never get sent out alone but you are now.

Fortunately the Job was easier than expected so you went back to the mansion early.

You barely even touched the door and a Body was sent flying out knocking you along with it.

Groaning you sat back to see who it was and it was none other than the resident smile kid, Jeff.

" What the fuck? " You groaned standing up and brushing your clothes off of the remaining dirt.

" Y/n!... You're fucking back!? " Jeff sounded nervous and bothered seeing you and his expression and tone made it so obvious it offended you.

" Yeah? What's wrong with it? You think I'd never come back because of a tiny Job? " You threw a sharp glare his way and he didn't seem to give a reaction to your attempt on intimidating him .

" You gotta go. Now! ASAP! " Jeff tried shoving you back into the forest and you were dragged on the way.

" Hey! Let me go! What gives!? " You grumbled trying to pry his hand away from your wrist.

But your action was cut short when you heard a loud Yell which sounded more like an animalistic Growl come from inside the mansion.

" What the fuck? What's going on Jeff?! " You asked in panic and at the corner of your eye you could see Jeff Visibly Swallow.

It was definitely serious.

" Did you guys summon a Demon or something!? To get revenge on slenderman? " You jumped to your own assumptions because if he isn't giving you an answer you're going to make your own assumptions .

" No why on earth would we do that? Ok I would! But our Demon Boy is Going In Heat which means He's basically A Cageless Feral Beast on the Loose! " Jeff explained as he continued to drag you deeper into the forest but his pace had increasing by every passing second.

" What does it have to do with me!? " You yelled looking back at the doors of the mansion which were now pounding violently.

" Are you Dumb? Isn't it obvious? He's a demon. He's in heat. If Demons are in Heat they look for a Mate to Fuck and You're unfortunate enough to Have E.J see you as a potential Mate " Jeff explained and you were actually quite shocked by his statement... That's the most well executed Explanation you heard him say.

" Wow.. You sounded kinda uh... Less stupid when you said that " You commented which earned a groan of annoyance from the bleached Smile Child.

You two didn't manage to get far when the doors burst open and you could see. A Black figure heading your way at full speed and following behind that figure were Masky, hoodie, Toby, Ben , Helen and Even Puppeteer Seemed to be involved with the chase.

" Run! They couldn't Hold Him much Longer! " Ben yelled coming out from the mansion and Immediately You Bolted off with Jeff at Full speed never looking back.

You were actually terrified ... 1. if you stay You get Fucked By E.J who you have a hidden feeling for which is... Uh.. Kinda Great? But... 2. I heard Demons Eat their Partners After Sex and you definitely don't want to end up dead. It must be a fact because the one who told you about that was a demon... Jack himself.

" Mate! " You heard a rough growl from behind you his voice Echoing through the woods and when you looked back to take a peek boy were you scared shitless.

He was running on all fours his mask off and his teeth razor sharp, his claws extended and looked extra deadly and he has this domineering aura with him that made every cell of your body shout RUN. Behind him were the rest of the Boys Following Behind and even Puppeteer's strings couldn't hold him.

" Shit He's Catching up! " Jeff yelled and you couldn't help but give off a snarky comment.

" Ya Think!? " You snapped , Your feet were getting tired from running because you just got back from a fucking Mission. You didn't expect to be served a full course of Bullshit when you got back.

" Y/n! " Oh Lord the way he growled out your name made your knees weak and you stumbled on a rock but lucky for you Jeff wasn't being a prick and he pulled your weight back up while running .

" Don't Touch Her! " E.J's threatening Snarl was heard from behind and his Voice changed to something more vicious and ruthless.

" Jack! Stop Chasing Us! " You Cried out because your legs couldn't Take it Anymore, You were panting, sweaty and most of all Traumatized.

You once lived as a normal human who knows nothing about Demons and This World of killers. You were just dragged in unexpectedly and you can't take everything in one go! .

" Then Stop Fucking running from me! " You didn't expect him to reply and you felt relief wash over you.

" So you'll stop chasing us if we stop running? You'll Leave us alone? " You asked making sure you and him are on the same page.

You heard a loud audible growl before you heard his answer.

" Yes " It sounded forced judging by his tone and you were skeptical at first but Jeff had other plans and saw right through His.

" Don't listen to Him! I've lived with Him longer and obviously He's Lying! " Jeff stated and his words made the angry demon boy growl at Jeff, as if he was warning Him.

" Jeff. Don't Fucking Test Me! " He barked and that was enough to silence both of us.

" I can't take it anymore. Jeff even though you're an asshole you're gonna have to live on " You panted and Jeff Flashed you a questioning Look. You didn't bother to reply because it's time to face your fears.

You stopped on your tracks as you turned around Closing your eyes expecting the worst .

You felt sharp claws tug on your hips and your back was slammed on a nearby tree.

You heard growling , the type of growl a prey gives to a little bunny... Yeah it was that scary.

You forced your eyes to peek a look and you saw E.J's figure towering over yours baring his sharp teeth and his claws dug deeper on your flesh making you whimper.

" Why'd you run!? Especially with another man! You like others touching you Huh!?" He spat out angrily his face dangerously close to yours. He was using the same tone earlier and it made you weak.

" Why'd you chase us!? Of course it's a common instinct to run if you see something chasing you... Ready to eat you" You murmured the last part but E.J heard it loud and clear.

" I just wanted to be close to You But you ran away... You don't want to be with me that much? " He whimpered almost like a small dog who was abandoned by his owner.

He nuzzled his face on the crook of your neck your sweet smell intoxicating him but he knew he had to control himself.

His claws were no longer as sharp as they were before and you could hear him purring while rubbing himself on your form.

" Guilt Tripping me is a really old move E.J " You chuckled trying to pry him off you but he whined holding onto you even tighter.

Oh what the hell I'm going with it.

You placed your hand gently on his head petting his locks of brown hair, he started purring and leaned on your touch his hands going lower but the two of you were interrupted.

" Y/n! Get away from Him! " You heard the familiar voice of Jeff and this time Masky, hoodie and the rest were here.

You didn't get to react because Jack pulled you in his arms growling at the other males. Baring his teeth and almost hissing at them Jack took a few steps back with you.

" Stick your noses to your own fucking business! "

" Jack! She may be a potential mate but we can't have you fucking someone in the mansion just because of your heat. You may not even feel anything for-"

" She is MY mate, she is Mine to Keep and Mine to Love. I don't need your opinion to tell me what to Do! She'll be mine forever and I'll stay true to my words now fuck off! " Jack Snarled glaring at everyone else . The boys seemed to be communicating in a telepathic way because they just exchanged a few looks to one another before finally leaving.

" Y/n...last call if you don't want to just say so we'll help you" Hoodie called out and when you gave the slightest reaction to his question Jack Started whining and whimpering almost like he was physically hurt.

" Uh... I'll be Fine " You answered and Hoodie nodded walking off.

" So- Ah! " You squealed when you were thrown over his shoulder.

" Jack! Wait where are we going? " You asked when he started walking the opposite direction of where hoodie and the rest were heading.

".... I have a cottage around here whenever I'm having my heat... " He answered in a hushed tone .

You looked back at his features and you noticed how he kept realising puffs of breaths, His Face was oddly a different shade that usual and his hands were really fidgety.

" Jack if I'm heavy you can put me dow-"

" And let you run away again? you're not doing that you little Brat. Running away like that with another man. Oh you like teasing me don't you? " His tone was deep and taunting and you could feel his hand crawling its way up your ass.

You felt him squeeze your butt cheek making you gasp and groan when he smacked your ass.

" Jack stop! " You grumbled bit he didn't take that lightly.

" Oh? Resisting me too? " His hand trailed lower down to your pussy rubbing your pussy through the thin fabric of your leggings.

You bit back a moan closing your eyes , he didn't like it and started rubbing you at a rougher pace.

He didn't stop while maneuvering his way through the thick forest and by the time you two arrived at a small cottage you were soaked.

You survived that part by swallowing your voice and it seemed to have thrilled him even more taking it as a challenge.

Opening the door he closed it using his feet and immediately threw you on the couch were he towered over you glaring down at your form.

" Holding back your moans I see? You'll be screaming before you know it " He muttered his large hands gripping onto the fabric of your shirt and with ease he tore your shirt to shreds leaving you in your bra and the only piece of clothing you had now were your leggings.

Your heartbeat began to increase as you scooted away from him . He noticed that and grabbed your foot pulling you over in between his legs both of your legs spread and set on each of his sides and you could clearly feel his hardened cock from your position.

" Oops to Late to run away Now" He grinned using his claws to tear the fabric of your bra and before you knew it he attacked your lips in a hungry Kiss his hands groping your boobs, squeezing and pinching your nipples making you moan in the kiss.

He bit down on your lower lip just enough to tear the skin drawing out a small amount of blood before continuing down to your neck and collar bone his sharp teeth pricking your skin feeling him suck, kiss and nip your neck, your shoulder and collarbone.

You tried pushing him off but he had your hands under his grisly grip before licking and taking your cold buds in his warm mouth his tongue playing and swirling around your breast giving a subtle bite before sucking on your breast each Mounds having the same amount of attention and pleasure.

You arched your back moaning slowly giving into the pleasure he released your hands before shoving two of his fingers inside your mouth . You got the hint and welcomed his fingers inside your mouth sucking and coating his fingers with your saliva while continuing his unfinished worked with your breast.

After awhile he pulled his fingers away and faster than you could say 'I' your leggings along with your soaked panties were ripped and thrown to the floor gasping when the cold air hit your glistening pussy and the very same fingers you sucked on earlier came rubbing on your clit earning a loud shaky moan to tear away from your throat.

He looked so smug seeing how wet you were and he didn't waste another second and placed both of your legs on his shoulders his face dangerously close to your heated flower .

" J-jack Wa- Ahh~" You couldn't stop him when his long Black tongue came lapping on your juices.

His tongue draped over your pussy in a slow and agonizing way making you whine and glare up at him with heavy lidded eyes.

He chuckled at your needy state before his teeth came in contact with your inner thighs biting down on your flesh making you flinch and squeak.

He left a noticeable bite mark on your inner thighs before his teeth grazed on your other thigh doing the same thing while your slick covered pussy was needy for his attention.

" Jack please " You whined biting your bottom lip and hearing you plead for him to give you more aroused him further.

His tongue sneakily slid past your folds and into your squelching pussy , your moans shaky and desperate your hands flailed around to find something to hold on and subconsciously you held onto his brown messy locks raking your fingers through his hair as his tongue went in and out of your fleshy walls and your walls wet and needy welcomed him desperately sucking his tongue in.

You could feel him so deep inside of you it made you squirm and cry out his name in pleasure.

How long is his tongue!?.

Your hips bucked and rocked while he ate you out his tongue playing freely inside you but that was when another tongue rolled out of his mouth and another one.

" Oh shit Jack! " You screamed when he inserted another one while the shorter one lapped on your clit and teased your folds.

Your core lit up when both of his tongues came wiggling inside your walls only making your walls clench tightly around his tongues and when a bubbly and hot sensation built up inside you and was ready to release he pulled back his chin and mouth covered by your juices and slowly dropped down on his chest. He stared at you with a lascivious grin when you grumbles and whine for him to finish what he started.

" You were resisting and running away from me earlier... Look at you now... So wet and Needy for me... What do you want mate? " He purred as he pulled down his pants along with his boxers revealing his thick veiny cock which was bigger than you expected.

How's that supposed to fit?

As if he read your expression he gave you an answer.

" Oh it's gonna fit. I'll make sure you're taking every inch of me for making me go through all that trouble chasing you around like a mad Dog" He growled his figure growing bigger , his ears began to grow longer as well as his claws . Now you know that this is the demon Jack had been hiding.

" Answer me! " He spat at you his hand snaking to your throat slightly choking you and damn hell it sure did turn you on.

" Your Cock... Fuck me till I can't walk anymore " You choked out and that was enough for him to ram his whole length in not even going gentle at first. He didn't give you time to adjust because technically this isn't Jack anymore. He slid inside easily because of how wet you were to begin with .

" Oh- Shit Jack! " You couldn't even finish your sentence because you were choked up in your own moans.

He was going so fast, You felt his Knot and the very shape of his Cock mold inside your pussy. He hit the deepest part of you with every fast and rough thrust.

His speed was in human and it felt so good you almost forgot how to breathe being choked up and at the same time being a moaning mess from his roughness.

You heard his gruff groans and pants not even holding back a loud snarl he placed both of his hand right next to your head trying to steady himself as he pounded is inside you mercilessly and everytime he pumped himself in, your walls would gladly squeeze the life out of him.

An animalistic growl escaped his lips as he gritted his teeth, his claws digging and ripping into the cushion of the furniture and you heard something crack. Was it the couch or the wooden floor.

Tears began to pool at the corner of your eyes holding onto his neck for dear life your legs tightly wrapped around his torso , you couldn't keep up with how rough he is you began to feel dizzy.

Every time he snapped his back and rammed himself in he could reach the deepest depths he could .

Your toes curled arching your back while moaning in pleasure as you reached your high releasing your juices all over his cock. Your walls dangerously clenching his cock which led him to bite down on your shoulder finally releasing his thick seeds deep inside of you.

Panting while staying on that position he pulled himself out of your cum filled pussy that leaked out his seeds.

He sat back on the couch panting before his hand came down on his cock jerking himself while staring at you.

It didn't take him 5 seconds and he was already rock hard.

Oh wow.

He yanked you by your arm and you sunk down on your knees infront of him with his cock standing hard with all its glory.

This time he guided your hand on his shaft letting you stroke him.

Did he really think you're that innocent? Hah. Just watch.

At first your movements were shy and timid and you stuck your tongue out a little to give his tip a few kitten licks.

Looking down at you he saw such an adorable expression in your face. He didn't expect you to directly take his whole cock in your mouth in one go unexpectedly.

He was completely caught of guard his clawed hand pulled on your hair and a loud breathy moan was forced out of his throat staring at you with wide eyes.

" Fuck " He groaned out when you started bobbing your head up and down while occasionally pulling away with a pop before trailing your tongue from his base up to his tip.

The sight of you was really something he'd kill to see. Kneeling right there with an Innocent face while taking his cock like that. Shit he found it extremely hard to control himself around you.

It didn't help when you took him whole once again your hands going down to massage his balls while increasing your speed.

You were so pretty and so good with your tongue. He just had to have you right now and that's exactly what he did.

He stood up shoving your head down on the couch befire you felt him his cock enter you again .

Gasping in surprise you felt his clawed had dig into the skin of your hips and your pussy took him in so tight and so well it made the both of you moan in sync.

Shit how the fuck are you still this tight after he literally wrecked you earlier? .

He didn't much for awhile and it irritated you. You wanted him to fuck you already. You raised your hips but his grip on your flesh made it hard to do so.

" Fucking Move! " You groaned clutching onto the cushion of the couch.

" I'm fucking working on it you impatient little Mate" He pulled back only to push himself back in again.

It made you moan and shudder your knees shaking and your hands trembling as you held onto the seat of the couch when he started ramming himself in again and again .

Your pussy swallowing his cock deep inside you every time he did so. You sucked him inside your walls so well he was so close to releasing again.

You cried out and loud pants and mewls filled the room because you were still so fucking sensitive and you were still being fucked by him at such an animalistic way.

You felt his weight in your hips and he started going even faster. You were practically drooling while moaning out his name.

Your mind felt so mushy and you were slowly seeing stars.

You started moving your hips to meet his thrusts and every time you did he kept hitting that one spot that could make you scream .

You cursed under your breath and felt your walls hugging his cock even tighter. He looked down on you seeing you at such a vulnerable state under his mercy was really something. A growl rumbling at the back of his throat. You were squeezing onto his cock like you were ready to milk him dry.

His thrusts became shallow but soon he sped up almost immediately catching his breath while you made a lot more sinful sounds underneath him.

After a few more thrusts the two of you came at the same time your cum mixed with his and you could feel it leaking out of your hole because of how much was inside. Panting while trying to keep yourself from fainting he stayed at that position for awhile before leaning down to trail soft kisses on your bare back.

" ... after my heat you are obligated to Date me. If you say otherwise... I have my ways to get you around-"

" Oh my God Jack I love you too ok? No need to go that far " You grumbled and from you position you heard his chuckle and another kiss was planted on your back.

" I'm glad you do Y/n "

" Oh and... You're not gonna eat me right? " You asked cautiously and he was quiet for a few seconds before he burst out laughing.

" You seriously believed what I said? I was just Joking Little Mate "

" Tsk... Fuck you Jack "

" Oh I see that you're ready for another round"

By the Time you two were finally done you were cum soaked and sticky, the two of you hopped in the shower but it led to something more again.

[carllisle]

How do you think Esme first reacted when Alice and Jsper showed up? Do you think her and Carlisle had some talk alone? Was she concerned or just accepted them without questions

Thank you for this question! One thing I really love is how Alice +1 arrived! That she planned it for so long and carefully examined her visions to see exactly the best way to show up is so fascinating to me. Emmett and Edward were not at home and I really REALLY love the description of their arrival in Edward’s memories;

I’d missed that first introduction, when Alice and Jasper had presented themselves to an extremely wary Carlisle, a frightened Esme, and a hostile Rosalie. It was Jasper’s warlike appearance that had them all so apprehensive, but Alice knew exactly what to say to ease their anxiety. 

Of course she knew exactly what to say. She’d envisioned every possible version of that momentous meeting, and then chosen the best. 

It was no accident that Emmett and I had been away. She’d preferred the smoother scene without the family’s primary defenders in residence. It was hard to believe how firmly entrenched they were by the time Emmett and I arrived, just a few days later. 

I don’t like that Rosalie is not counted by smeyer as one of the ‘primary defenders’ but in our hearts she is the rottweiler of the coven, yes? 

Thanks to her foresight, Alice knew every possible outcome of the first meeting so I think that she knew exactly what to tell Carlisle, Rosalie, and Esme, so as to dissuade their fears, although that in itself must have been unsettling. When they first heard Alice and Jasper approaching I’m sure they were cautious as they are with any other strangers, but the sight of Jasper must have been extremely worrying. Bella’s description of first seeing his scars in Breaking Dawn highlight how terrifying he must have actually appeared;

Instinctively, I tensed to defend myself. Any vampire who saw Jasper would have had the same reaction. The scars were like a lighted billboard. Dangerous, they screamed. How many vampires had tried to kill Jasper? Hundreds? Thousands? The same number that had died in the attempt.

It’s well established that Esme is the most physically vulnerable and given how worried Carlisle was when Esme was around Bree, I imagine he was tenser than he had ever been in his life before - here was a god damn war machine strutting up their driveway perhaps looking for a fight, and here was sweet Esme who refused to eat female prey in case they had young to look after!! She was totally opposite to what Jasper appeared to be. I think he didn’t want to look aggressive, but he definitely shielded her as best he could without outright looking like her bodyguard. 

Given Rosalie’s ability to love and hate, I think she did not hesitate to be a physical barrier between Jasper and her parents. 

At this point, it seems likely that Esme was the most relaxed among them. She had not seen the true horrors of the vampire world, the Volturi was still a far-off benevolent family looking after the welfare of their kind, the Denali coven was dear to them, and any nomads they came across seemed to already know and love Carlisle. She had not known, I don’t think, the truly dark and sadistic side that many vampires had and so she did not have the same fear in her. Esme wants to see the best in people, and believes that everything will always work out (she was right about Edward and Bella working out, and she was right about the stand-off with the Volturi not ending in a fight so like. maybe she do be manifesting uno) and so it seems likely that, despite her fright, she was most willing to accept the strangers. 

Her gut instinct was to probably believe Alice right away (I imagine she trusts women and distrusts men) because why would she not? It all makes sense and oh! how wonderful! what a talent! what a gift! to have foresight and to have seen us for all these years! oh goodness! And if Alice vouched for Jasper, that would be enough for Esme although he was still a frightening presence. She knew a man of war once, and it gave her a life with no peace. 

As Rosalie was also at home with them it seems fair to guess that the three of them had a discussion, and all took different sides. Rosalie, I think, was not swayed by Alice’s enthusiasm and she probably resented what she perceived to be the invasion of privacy of Alice watching them for years (”First Edward can’t get out of our heads, and now she’s watching our futures play out for her own entertainment? Please!”). Carlisle, always wanting to give strangers the benefit of the doubt but still being tense at the sight of Jasper, was a little more understanding. He was deeply touched by the story of living their vegetarian lifestyle in preparation for meeting them but what Alice asked was not just friendship but companionship - this was not just a couple passing through, this was a couple asking to become part of their family. That is quite the ask. 

Delighted and wary in same measure, Esme was already warming to them within hours of meeting. Hearing Alice and Jasper’s story - Alice’s vision of him, their meeting decades later, their search for the Cullens (but no mention of how he got his scars) - had Esme falling in love with them so quickly. She could feel the love and affection radiating from Alice and when Alice told them how she had also seen Emmett and Edward and loved them already too, Esme was sold. Rosalie resented how quickly Esme took to the pair and refused to even entertain the idea until Jasper had disclosed his personal history and how he came to be covered in scars. 

Jasper’s stories - both human and vampire - deeply concerned Carlisle. A boy lying to get enlisted wasn’t unheard of but it did have Carlisle questioning Jasper’s character. He heard only Jasper’s tale of Maria but his own knowledge of the Southern wars was enough for him to believe Jasper’s story of why he was involved with the conflict for so long. He was interested in Jasper’s story, albeit morbidly so, and spent time with him listening to what little Jasper felt able to tell. Jasper wanted to talk to him ‘man to man’ but Carlisle gently declined and assured him that that would not be necessary, that whatever he had to say should be heard by Esme and Rosalie also. Alice nudged Jasper and said “I told you he’d say that” and Rosalie had to hold back a hiss. She hated how much Alice knew of her family already, it made her angry and even more protective because who the hell does this girl think she is?? 

Like Carmen welcoming Renesmee and being the one to break that barrier, Esme was the same with Alice and Jasper. She took a chance on them and with Carlisle and Rosalie refusing to leave her side, they apprehensively let them into their lives. As Edward says in Midnight Sun, the two of them were firmly entrenched by the time he and Emmett came home a few days later. Where Alice’s knowledge of the family enraged Rosalie, it reassured Esme and Carlisle and the pair got on so well with Emmett when he came home, Rosalie had no option but to get used to the idea. Thanks to her gift, Alice always knew what to say to Rose to win her over. 

I think all serious or long discussions involving Alice and Jasper’s future with the family always involved all 5 of the original family members, and while Carlisle confided his apprehension to Esme only, no decision was made without the rest of them. 

[holycatsandrabbits]

                                      Give Me A Kiss

Released as part of the #Great Good Omens Snake-Off event!

ficlet by @holycatsandrabbits (Dannye Chase) based on a comic by @hayamiyuu 

*comic reposted with permission*

Crowley learned that Aziraphale was comfortable with snakes in Crete around 3000 BC. Crowley had been fleeing from something—probably some mob of humans he’d played a trick on. He’d taken his serpentine shape to hide, turning himself small and dark and slithering beneath some stones in a field. It was cold, and the meager autumn grass didn’t offer much protection, but that had seemed the least of all evils at that point. Eventually, he’d become cold enough that he drifted off to sleep. Which was rather a dangerous thing for a snake to do, but again—a lesser evil.

When Crowley woke up, though, he was warm. No scratchy grass surrounded him, no dry dirt. He was somewhere with a heat source, somewhere soft. He opened his eyes to realize that he was curled up in the lap of an angel, who looked delighted to see him awake.

“You missed our lunch date,” Aziraphale said, with obviously false reproach, his blue eyes sparkling sharply as only an angel’s could.

“Sssssorry,” Crowley managed to say.

“Oh, no matter, dear. I was able to track you down. You know, I don’t think I’ve seen you as a serpent since Eden. It’s quite becoming.”

It took a lot of determination, but Crowley slithered off the warm angel’s lap and back onto the cold ground.

Aziraphale’s smile faded. “Oh,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, I’ve upset you.”

Aziraphale got to his feet. He towered over Crowley like this, and Crowley felt almost claustrophobic. He stretched himself back into human form, the right size, right temperature, right face. He shrugged, and they said no more about it.

But he never forgot what it felt like to wake up feeling so warm and—and safe. It was a harsh thing to realize that he could trust an angel.

                                                          oOo

Crowley discovered that Aziraphale was comfortable with giant serpents in 1038 AD in Cappadocia. Hell had ordered Crowley to hang about in a cave, menacing the population of a nearby town, collecting treasure and making some sort of legend of himself. Crowley had thought that sounded like quite a nice assignment for once. Of course, Hell had failed to mention that the presence of an enormous serpent-monster in a cave would attract knights with swords. That part was not fun.

The first few knights ran away at the sight of Crowley, and so he’d relaxed a little. Then had come a braver man who’d held a blessed weapon. When he got past Crowley’s defenses and stabbed him, Crowley had nearly passed out from the pain. He managed to win the fight, sending the knight fleeing for his life, but Crowley wasn’t sure how long it would be until he came back, with more men and more swords forged with priestly aid.

Crowley needed to leave. The problem was, he was too injured to change form, and he could hardly crawl about the countryside hoping no one would notice a dragon. So he’d blocked off the entrance to the cave as best he could and tried to sleep enough to heal.

He woke later to a sharply cold sensation and the sound of someone humming a hymn. He knew who it was without looking. “Angel,” he growled.

Aziraphale stepped into view around one of Crowley’s enormous black coils, looking a little more dusty than he usually did. “Oh, you’re awake,” he said, in an ordinary tone, quite as if he were talking to a person and not a giant snake. “I’m sorry, I had hoped you’d sleep through the healing. It can’t be pleasant.”

Crowley wanted to hiss at him, but in this form he feared he’d terrorize the angel. He pulled in on himself, groaning in pain.

Aziraphale gave him an admonishing look. “I’ve been here a week, my dear. If I was frightened of you like this, I’d have left by now.”

“A week?”

“And without my magic cloaking this cave, you’d have had other visitors by now. So you can be self-conscious later. Right now, you’ve got to let me heal you.” Aziraphale bustled away out of sight again behind a serpentine coil, but he kept chattering. “Bloody irresponsible of you to do this, you know. Become a dragon, fight knights. We just set up our Agreement, and now you’re risking it all without a thought for me. What am I going to do if you get discorporated? I don’t want Hastur or Ligur as an adversary. Disgusting, the both of them.” His voice fell low. “And if someone comes back with another holy weapon, you could be destroyed completely, so—”

“Ssssssorry,” Crowley said, and the sound filled the cave, making it uncomfortably loud.

Aziraphale popped up again, completely unimpressed. “I should say so. Now, hold still, I don’t fancy being knocked about by your tail.”

The healing took another two weeks, during which Crowley mostly slept. Aziraphale didn’t normally sleep, but the work seemed to take a lot out of him. Once Crowley woke up to the startling sight of an angel curled up for a nap with an enormous demonic serpent, tucked among his coils like a little white mouse. As if prey had found itself protected by its predator.

Apparently Aziraphale trusted Crowley as well. This was not good news. In fact, this was really going to put a cramp into the whole falling-out-of-love-with-Aziraphale plan that Crowley had been working on for the last thousand years.

                                                      oOo

It took a lot longer for Crowley to discover that he was comfortable being a snake around Aziraphale.

After the Abotchalypse, when Crowley was free to visit the bookshop as often as he pleased, he found that it was quite fun to lurk among the books as a small snake, scaring away customers (and startling an angel, if he could manage it). One day, Aziraphale made an exasperated noise and shooed him out of the Yeats section and onto a sunny windowsill. Crowley found that it was actually quite pleasant there, even if it was out in the open, and still a great place from which to menace potential customers.

The point of being a snake in the bookshop, Crowley had told himself, was just that it was an age-old instinct to avoid making it obvious that he and Aziraphale were friends. If Gabriel came through the door, Crowley could easily hide. The problem with that was, if Gabriel made one false move toward Aziraphale it was very likely that he’d be met by a giant serpent who definitely was not attempting to be inconspicuous.

The truth was that Crowley still just wasn’t sure how Aziraphale loved him. He knew that Aziraphale did love him. Aziraphale had said so, and looking back, he’d certainly acted like he had for millennia. But Crowley was a demon. Could an angel really love a demon? Could he love someone who didn’t even have a human face?

One night Aziraphale was sitting on the couch by the fire, reading a book with those ridiculous little glasses on his face, and he was simply the most adorable, impossible, beautiful thing Crowley had ever seen. So Crowley, in snake form, slithered down off of a chair and crawled into Aziraphale’s lap.

Aziraphale gave him an absent-minded caress, still reading. Crowley lifted his head up over the top of Aziraphale’s book, getting in the way. They sat there a moment, human and snake, angel and demon. Aziraphale didn’t recoil or pull back. He never had. He just smiled a little, looking patient. Crowley kissed him.

It was a wonderful thing to be a demonic snake who was trusted and loved in all of his forms. But, Crowley discovered, after having given Aziraphale a small snakey kiss, that it really was much nicer to kiss an angel if you had hands to hold him with.

HolyCatsAndRabbits (Dannye Chase) on Ao3. Fic Commissions for OC’s open!

@summerofspock thank you so much for organizing this event!!

[wolf-and-bard]

Drown With Me If You Can

Prompt: White Frost/Apocalypse

Relationships: Arnaghad/Erland of Larvik (from one of the witcher-centric cards)

Rating: M

Content Warnings: swear words, grief, themes of giving up on life and hopelessness at the beginning

Summary: After the fall of Kaer Seren, all that is left for Erland to do in his gloomy cave is write his journal and let the cold take him. He doesn’t expect to be saved, especially not by his former-lover-turned-nemesis Arnaghad. In which: Erland wallows and Arnaghad calls him out on his bullshit. A lot.

Word Count: 5.6k

AO3 link

I.

I close out this account with a warning: the knowledge I hereby hope to preserve is essential for the day the monsters return to our crypts, our battlefields, and our gardens. It is a call to battle and heroism and in that it is treacherous. If you use these pages with the intention to do good in this world, you will soon find yourself to be an outcast among humans. You will save them and they will spit at you. You will beg for fair payment and they will burn you at the stake. Be prepared for that, and take up the sword nonetheless for if you do not, no one will. Peace, brothers and sisters of the future, peace and blessings of the Gods. May you never need this journal.

Erland signs the bottom of the last page with fingers gnarled by the cold, trembling from how his muscles have hardened as a result of his lethargy. When it is done, he grips the quill hard, clings to it. It is a childish instinct that makes him do this, but this feather has been his lifeline for the past… past. A lifeline to the past. Time flakes away from Erland the same way the tattered pieces of the quill do once it breaks under his tightening fingers. The last few pages of his journal are barely legible and he can’t tell whether that is because his vision is fails him, like a pane of glass slowly devoured by a sheen of ice, or because his script has fallen prey to his tremor. As Erland waits for the ink to dry, he uses his weak hand to arrange his good one into the proper gesture for an Igni and casts it down the dark tunnel of his home.

A perfect cone of lightly crackling flames shoots outward, illuminating the glazed rock all around. The sign holds for several breaths, steady and sturdy and its heat singes Erland’s frayed cuffs, has the ceiling drip crystalline melt-off.  Erland smiles grimly to himself and shuts the journal. This time can’t take from him and the ice won’t feast on, this his body will always know how to do. A perfect channelling of what Chaos he may access.

Shaking, Erland crawls over to his makeshift bedroll – a dirt-hardened pellet of furs he collected on his way up here, a long hike with Kaer Seren a steady ruin at his back and the names of his brothers and children a steady weight on his shoulders – and collapses on top of it.

It is done. His lips trace the outlines of these words, but his tongue is too heavy to lift. Erland sneezes into his pillow and draws a ratty quilt over himself. It used to be bursting with reds and oranges, a gift from an old woman for saving her granddaughter from an early death by harpy, but now it is faded and as grimy as the rest of him. Erland cannot distinguish the colours of his belongings any longer, not even in the stale light of the last sparks of the Igni that cling to the cave’s walls.

It is done.

His journal is finished, his life chronicled, his school honoured and his knowledge preserved. All that is left to the former griffin master is to wait for the sparks of his life to die out alongside those of his magic. Erland flops onto his belly and uses his weak hand to arrange the fingers of his good one into the shape of Axii. His wrist creaks when he angles the hand at his own face and he casts it with the same impeccable precision. The spell hits instantly and his body goes slack, his mind punctured through by holes. Erland sleeps and hopes a harsh wind will blow through his abode tonight.

II.

There is a long interval of darkness that is marked by bursts of hot and cold shivers that wreck his body, but Erland doesn’t truly wake and by the time he does, he isn’t sure that they were real at all. He goes through a stage of sleep paralysis in which all he can do is to stare at the coarse ceiling of the cave. It has frozen back over and if there were any light, Erland would see his own face reflected in it. Sunken cheeks, eyes reddened from burst capillaries, undercut grown out into shaggy strings of hair. The griffin tattooed on the side of his skull drowns in them, just like the griffin witchers drowned in dust and snow the day their school was buried in an avalanche.

Erland sighs. He cannot move a muscle for half an eternity. His nose itches and another sneeze finally frees him, releases him into an unsettled slumber that pushes him along the maze of corridors that is his own memory. He retraces every step he took along the Path, faces all the monsters he slaughtered and all the humans he failed to convince that he shouldn’t be slaughtered alongside them.

There is no lesson to be learned from these dreams. Only patience. Erland has long lived with his regrets, knows them as intimately as the beasts whose traits he noted down in his journal. Only patience, yes. In all his striving to be more than a mere mercenary or rat-catcher perhaps his most undervalued and least practiced virtue.

Erland can be patient.

He vaguely remembers one who never was, an old friend, a former lover who faced the world with steel first and foremost, steel accompanied by a detached pragmatism that was so at war with everything Erland believed in. That friend – now less than an enemy – would not have lain here so wallowing in the drawn-out pain of his end days. He would not have waited for his death, he would have summoned it by drawing his slowly rusting blades and cutting himself open, would have watched his hot blood hiss against the ice at the heart of this mountain and would have born a proud curl of his lip until the moment the fire in his own heart extinguished.  

Erland smiles and his jaw creaks.

He takes the high-road.

He…

He sleeps.

He thrashes.

He recites every lesson the knight Gryphon ever taught him. They are the foundation of his life’s work, they are all he has left.

He is patient.

III.

Erland is caught in a sleep paralysis once more when it enters the mountains. The monsters usually haunt him when he’s somewhere in the realm of insanity, but now he is wide awake, body one rigid line under the quilt that has long since lost its ability to keep out the winter, which means the thing could be very real and out for his blood. Its steps boom and quake through the rock for hours before the giant passes into the dead end that is Erland’s makeshift dwelling. Even with no light to illuminate it, Erland can see it glittering, can see its giant head swing left and right, can hear the scrape of its fragile marble skin against the walls.

An ice elemental.

If Erland is extra lucky, this used to be its lair and he accidentally usurped it. There is no moving away, no putting up a fight and he resigns himself to a quick and violent death after all. How graceful of Destiny to show her face now, after everything else has passed her by.

But then the ice elemental shakes off the snow, hundreds of flakes that rain down to cover the floor, and Erland blinks. The outline of the monster softens from harsh crystals to wet strands of fur that hug broad shoulders. A werewolf? Erland can’t draw breath, doesn’t trust his ears when the thing opens its mouth and speaks, a deep baritone. Not nearly raspy enough to be of anything other than human origin.

"Alzur’s rotten balls, Erland is that you?"

Erland wants to laugh. Of all the demons the depths of his consciousness could have summoned to this cursed place, it had to be Arnaghad. Arnaghad with his hulking form and his smooth voice, his tattered bearskin overcoat and his terrible timing. Always terrible. He can’t laugh, of course, can’t do more than wheeze faintly.

A torch flares up, casting eerily long shadows at the feet of the apparition, more real than anything Erland has thought in a long time. At the same time, Erland catches Arnaghad’s eyes – dark ochre with narrow slits, eyes that are set deeply under bushy eyebrows which underline the blocky shape of Arnaghad’s face as though it was whittled from planks of red birch – and Arnaghad starts.

“It is you,” he says and follows that up with a curse Erland can’t discern, courtesy of Arnaghad’s Gemmeran linguistic oddities that persist to this day. With them comes a harsh edge to all his syllables and a tendency to mouth-breathe. Funny how after decades of reciprocal avoidance, Erland still remembers these details. Casting his mind down the drainage canal of history, he also remembers himself: a young fighter, just two decades of age, stuck in a body that was overflowing with emotions of visionary self-determination, of rough-and-fast passion, of compassionate anger. Erland waits for the spark of that anger to rekindle, especially as he watches Arnaghad toss his swords and pack and drop to his knees by Erland’s pellet, the torch held close. It’s heat licks across Erland’s cheeks and cradles his skull.

It remains the only heat.

His anger is but a relic of a more complicated time.

“By all the gods,” Arnaghad breathes, hand passing over Erland’s sweaty forehead. His touch too feels familiar, feels too familiar, but his scent isn’t and neither is the concern that drenches his tone. “You look like a giant lump of bird shit.”

Erland’s nostrils flare. Slowly, ever so slowly, his lips peel back in a snarl. He still can’t move, no matter how much he tries. He wants the ice elemental back, if only for the simplicity of its puny gravel brain. Arnaghad’s may only be a smidge bigger and more substantial, but with that comes so much. Arguments that have been left unburied, thoughts that have been left unspoken, memories that have been left unfinished.

Erland hisses weakly through his teeth and Arnaghad growls in reply. He doesn’t extinguish the torch, he sticks it into the ground somewhere to Erland’s right and sits back on his heels, the growl building and building. Erland drifts off again, waiting for Arnaghad to speak. He hopes that when he wakes, the phantom will be gone.

IV.

If anything, Arnaghad has solidified by the time Erland opens his eyes again. He sits by Erland’s bedside still, even cross-legged tall enough that his head grazes the ceiling of the cave if he straightens. Before him he stokes a small campfire with several crude bursts of Igni.

“That is a waste of precious firewood,” Erland says, voice croaky. He pushes himself up onto his forearms, head sluggish to lift from the scratchy pillows. Arnaghad doesn’t turn around, instead he retrieves an iron pot from his belongings and presses it against the cave’s wall, using his dagger to scrape off the ice there. Practical, first and foremost, that is exactly how Erland remembers his lover of yore. Lover being a euphemism for something Erland still cannot name.

“I’m hungry,” Arnaghad says and fires another sign. Briefly, the cave explodes with heat and Erland just about stifles a vulgar moan. When did he last have the pleasure of warmth this intense and indulgent? The fire slowly seeps into his blankets and furs and nestles against his skin. He sinks back into them and closes his eyes. “Besides,” the bear witcher continues. “You might have died of hypothermia if I hadn’t started it. It’s almost funny, Erland the righteous asshole letting himself freeze to death, where is the glory in that? Alas, I find it hard to believe that you have developed a sense of humour since last we met.”

“Neither have you.”

“Ha,” Arnaghad says and that’s it for a while. Erland listens to the water boil, to Arnaghad hacking at dried vegetables and jerky. It doesn’t even smell bad and despite his self-imposed fast, Erland’s stomach rumbles and the inside of his mouth feels coated in dirt. How long has it been since last he drank? It didn’t matter until Arnaghad stampeded into his life again, shaking him awake.

Erland sneezes.

Maybe not all of him.

“Bless you,” Arnaghad grumbles. “So, how did you end up here, little birdie? Your wings broken?”

“I’m not little and griffins aren’t birds.”

“Smartass.”

Erland snorts. He isn’t about to stoop down to Arnaghad’s level and start bickering and he has no inclination for small-talk. That’s what he tells himself anyway. A part of him is almost… glad for the company. Glad for this company in particular. Fuck that.

“I will allow you to stay the night,” Erland says, and squints to see Arnaghad raise one of his caterpillar eyebrows at him. It isn’t like either of them can tell day from night, and depending on where Arnaghad entered the tunnel system of the Dragon Mountains, the last time he saw sunlight may have been weeks ago. “Fine, I will allow you to have a rest. After, I want you gone.”

“I don’t care what you want. If it hadn’t been for me you would be a corpse right now. Take a peek.”

Erland follows the gesture of Arnaghad’s hand and glances down himself, gingerly lifts the blanket. He is swathed in thick, padded linens, an extra pair of breeches and woollen-knit socks. The bearskin that usually hugs Arnaghad’s shoulders is draped across him and what is more, his lips do not feel chapped any longer. His hair curls around his head in a long, neat braid, like a viper in slumber. Shit, how long was he out for?

“Have you considered that it might have been my explicit wish to die?”

“I have,” Arnaghad says on a low chuckle. “A ridiculous notion. You’re sick, that is all. Sick people lean towards melodrama.”

“I’m not being melodramatic,” Erland replies and, oh, there it is. Frustration breaking through the hard-packed stratum of the years like a flower through the earth in early spring. It’s fast to burst and blossom. He does try and sit up after all, but before the world can start to spin around him, Arnaghad has roughly pushed him back into the sheets.

“You are always melodramatic,” the bear witcher replies and glowers at him, face cast in darkness by his bulky outline. Erland’s eyes narrow.

“One night,” he says. “And then you’re gone.”

“We’ll see about that. The stew is going to have to cook for a bit, and you should go back to sleep. Want me to Axii you?”

“And have you make minced meat out of my brain? No thank you, I can do that myself,” Erland snaps. He’s being petulant, why is he being so petulant? It’s all these rifts tearing open in his chest, all these holes he abandoned when he left the order with his friends to found the griffin school. These holes pull him back to life and reality, pull him back through time and into a persona he thought he buried. Erland is not a child. Erland is the griffin grandmaster, Erland is a knight, Erland is a witcher. It doesn’t matter that these functions are all theory now, they make up his identity. Not Arnaghad and his quarrels. And yet…

Erland turns away, facing the wall. When he makes the gesture for the Axii, he doesn’t even have to use his hand to arrange the fingers. He didn’t want to live. Now he does. And that’s more than he can take after everything he’s lost. More than he deserves, really. Erland puts very little force behind the sign, letting it spill to the tips of his fingers then gently touching them to his own face and thankfully, the world blots out around him.

V.

Arnaghad’s voice pulls him up again, like the detonation of a bomb.

“Wake up, stew’s ready.”

Before Erland is fully awake, a coughing fit grips his body and although it scratches at the back of his throat, it also feels freeing in a way, loosening the plaque on his bones and the dust in his chest.

“So you’re still a victim of your winter sickness,” Arnaghad laughs. “I wondered.”

“What do you know of it?” Erland’s voice is muffled as he wipes his mouth, the words come out spiteful, acidic. This time, he does have the strength to sit up on his bed, but he needs the sturdy stone wall at his back to keep him upright. It’s a cool antithesis to the slight swelter of the cave’s air, a gracious counter-force to the merrily burning fire and the bubbling stew.

“Erland, you have spent twenty odd winters in my embrace, would you not think some of that has stuck with me?”

“In the face of your betrayal, no, I would not,” Erland says, crossing his arms, though admittedly, Arnaghad is right. Erland has always been susceptible to the cold, more so than any of his fellow witchers. Perhaps that is because Skellige, in the shape of his mother, rejected him when he was young, or perhaps it is because of his father whose origin Erland still doesn’t care to investigate. Either way, when the frost’s first tendrils start to wind their way into the atmosphere, he falls ill with sneezes and shakes, fevers too. It must be winter already then.  

“My betrayal, yes,” Arnaghad mutters and retrieves a wooden bowl from his pack into which he shovels some of the stew. It smells prickly and hot, thick with Ofieri spices and has Erland’s mouth water. Now that he is fully himself again, his senses have returned, an assault on his mind. As with any battle he ever fought, Erland decides to be methodical about it. First the food, then the fight. He reaches out for the bowl, but Arnaghad scoffs at his trembling hands. “Don’t think I’ll let your atrophied muscles spill any of this. It’s too damn good, here.” Arnaghad settles into a cross-legged seat before Erland and the fire paints a halo around him. He’s so big that it cowers at his back, which suits Erland fine. This way it is easier to ignore the concentrated, caring expression on the bear witcher’s face as he submerges a wooden spoon, scoops up a chunk of whatever dried meat he put into the stew and gently blows on it before holding it out.

“Why do you care?” Erland asks weakly, lips parting around the spoon. As soon as it hits his tongue – the perfect degree of scolding hot and spicy – he can’t help a small groan. Blunt though Arnaghad may be, his cooking has always been phenomenal. Erland’s stomach mewls for more.

“I always cared.”

“Funny way of showing that.” Erland gives him a pointed look and Arnaghad’s eyes dart along the scar that neatly sections Erland’s face. He has yet to receive even an attempt at apology for it. “Back then you didn’t seem too caring with me. In fact, I acutely remember your sword flaying me.”

“If I’d wanted to kill you, you would have died. But I didn’t want that then and I don’t want it now. I hold to my promises, Erland.”

Accusation is slabbed thickly onto those words and Arnaghad holds out another spoonful of stew which Erland dutifully swallows. It’s not the first time the sickness held him down so hard he had to be fed, but it feels strangely agitating for Arnaghad to be the one to do it. After he left and founded his own school, the only snippets Erland ever heard about the bear witcher were rumours of his death, especially with the vipers splitting off the bear school. Perhaps, Erland liked to believe that Arnaghad was dead because that took away the possibility of whatever was happening now. Perhaps, Erland left the one promise he spent all his life circumventing at Morgraig Castle the day he set out for Kaer Seren. Perhaps, Arnaghad didn’t change at all and neither did Erland.

“Do you even remember?” Arnaghad asks quietly, then allows himself a few gulps of soup before refilling the bowl. He doesn’t meet Erland’s eyes, but Erland can see the faint glow of anguish speckling his cheekbones. Oh, but this is bad. If Arnaghad goes berserk in here, they’ll both be buried in rock and ice and Erland is too awake and vivacious now to want that.

“Remember what?” Erland asks, feigning ignorance as long as that leaves him the proverbial high ground, the only place from which he can match Arnaghad’s sheer height. He accepts another two spoons, then shakes his head. His stomach feels brilliantly full, close to bursting, and he rubs it weakly. Arnaghad puts the bowl to his lips and drinks the rest of the stew. They’ll both want more later, especially with the firewood dwindling, but for now the next field is to be played. It all gets muddled anyway, who is he kidding. Erland sighs and that lets Arnaghad’s gaze snap upwards, latching onto Erland’s. They silently glower at each other for a handful of breaths.

“Of course, you do,” Arnaghad says eventually. “Knowing you, you remember your exact words.”

“I do,” Erland says and the ghost of his own voice flashes through his mind.

My heart lies at the end of a dream, Arnaghad. And as long as that dream remains unfulfilled, I cannot give it to you.

“You lied.”

“I didn’t lie, I never lied,” Erland protests, but Arnaghad shakes his head.

“I don’t understand. You obviously felt something for me, feel something still. Oh, don’t give me that look, I told you I care. I always paid attention to you, you know that.”

Erland does. It pains him to admit it, but he does.

“I didn’t lie,” he repeats, hands balling into fists.

“You threw me scraps of affection when it would have cost you nothing to invite me to your table,” Arnaghad says.

“Do we really have to do this now? I told you I want you gone.”

“I saved your life.”

“UNBIDDEN,” Erland screams and his arm shoots out in an arc. It is only by Arnaghad’s quick reflexes that the Aard doesn’t have him fly into the back wall. Erland heaves, watching Arnaghad’s thick Quen dissolve with a buzzing static, and he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. After everything, he doesn’t want to hurt Arnaghad, of course he doesn’t.

“Why couldn’t you love me?” Arnaghad says, so fucking stubborn in his resolve to have this conversation. What a stupidly vulnerable question.

Back then, Erland bought in to the delusions he liked to paint for himself in blood and gore. He was destined for more, he was a noble knight, he was to rid the world of evil forevermore. Arnaghad didn’t fit in with that dream. He would try and keep Erland from it because he didn’t understand, had no ambitions for himself. And while that was, and likely still is true, it was never the reason Erland didn’t allow anything more than physical between them. But it was the reason he clung to and dangled before Arnaghad’s eyes over and over. After the night of the sundering… it didn’t matter so much anymore and Erland locked the true reason away in a dark corner of his heart, huddled together with the feelings he held hostage in the hopes they would fade to nothing.

Erland listens to his own heartbeat thump at his temples in a nagging ache and he forfeits his answer. Arnaghad doesn’t deserve forgiveness for what he did to Rhys and Erland and whomever else his sword cleaved, but he deserves the truth.

“You really want to know why?” he asks weakly, cringing inwardly at Arnaghad’s curt nod. Erland continues on a sigh, feeling fragile now that his anger evaporated with the sign he just cast. “I was afraid. I ruined my mother’s life by existing and I couldn’t spare Jagoda the experiments Alzur put us through and I never managed to make the humans see us as anything other than aberrations. I can slay monsters and teach others to do the same, but I can’t save the people I love.”

“That is horseshit, just complete and utter horseshit. Your mother was a right old cunt and nothing could have saved Jagoda. All the girls died, remember? Do you blame yourself for their deaths too?”

“My school,” Erland whispers, blinking rapidly to do away with those questions. “I loved them too and now they all lay buried under rubble. My brothers, my sons, my whole life. I loved them and I couldn’t save them. I’m a curse.”

“…why did you never say anything?” Arnaghad reaches out and his thick fingers brush Erland’s scraggly face. Erland stifles a dry sob. Some truths are better left unspoken and this was definitely one of them. He never dared to utter it to himself, in the quiet safety of his own mind, and now Arnaghad knows it. Arnaghad his ex-lover, used-to-be friend, nemesis for some years, phantom of his past for more, saviour of his life. Arnaghad who does, when it comes down to it, have a claim to his heart.

“Because you would have ridiculed me, as you itch to do now.”

“It is true that I was never good at understanding how other people feel,” Arnaghad says and his thumbs come to rests against Erland’s temples, smoothing out the ache there. He shuffles closer and their knees bump together which sends a jolt through Erland’s weakened frame. “But if you would have told me this, I would have found it impossible to demean you. I care, Erland, why won’t you believe that?”

Because you don’t care about anything other than your own survival.

Because it took five years for you to ever look at me twice and double the time for you to answer my frequent knocks on your door.

Because you attacked our brother and cut me and your eyes were filled with pure hatred.

Because you spent decades on your mountain, pretending like that was the only life you ever knew.

Because…

Because…

Erland grasps for more reasons, grasps for the steely indifference he felt for Arnaghad ever since the day he left Morgraig for Haern Caduch. He stops. No forgiveness, not yet. But perhaps, in the face of his grief and all that he lost, it would do well to cast his gaze into the future. Erland releases his tense muscles and lets go of something. After, his breath comes easier.

“You would have me believe that your care is rooted in love? Even after all this time?” he asks.

“Yes,” Arnaghad replies. So simple, huh?

“So maybe you love me. That doesn’t change the fact that I would have let you down.” Or Arnaghad him. Or maybe they were fated to let each other down.

“Look, birdie. I don’t know what it means to dream big, but I know this, and I know it for certain: you did what you could and because you’re a persistent shit, you did it exceptionally well. There are forces at work in this world one man alone cannot overcome. You did what you could.”

Erland doesn’t know what to say to that. Because that isn’t simple, that is insightful and attentive and not at all Arnaghad’s usual refrain. Maybe he did change and Erland is the only one who stagnated. He feels stupid, all of a sudden. Stupid for holding himself up to such high standards, stupid for being afraid in the face of his own bravery, stupid for ever calling himself honourable.

What man gives up on love because he assumes himself to be cursed? No knight. A coward.

“Could I have stopped you?” Erland asks. “If I had loved you, could I have stopped you from attacking Rhys and from waging your war on the rest of us witchers? Could I have changed the course of history?”

“You’re doing it again,” Arnaghad replies with a sly smile. He shakes his head and leans over his own legs to press a dry and warm kiss to Erland’s lips. In a way, it’s a homecoming. In a different one, it’s completely novel. Erland tilts his head for a second kiss that has his body thrum with wanting more, and Arnaghad allows it, for a bit. It’s another kind of warmth, that of their bodies re-learning one another and before long, Erland finds himself on Arnaghad’s lap, held close in a way he thought he’d never be held again. It isn’t forgiveness. It’s far from forgiveness. But it’s a start.

VI.

“Erland, there is something I have to tell you,” Arnaghad says long after they have spent the pent-up emotions of the last centuries in drawn-out kisses and frantic clashes of their body. They’re both tucked under the quilt and the bearskin, Erland’s beaten body sheltered in Arnaghad’s mountainous embrace. Erland gives a sated mumble, basking in the magic of the moment for just a heartbeat longer. Of course it couldn’t last, contentedness with Arnaghad is always the eye of the storm. “Listen to me,” Arnaghad continues and a sense of urgency replaces whatever fluttery feelings Erland just had. “I didn’t come to the Dragon Mountains to find you nor had I head of Kaer Seren’s fall. I came here for a reprieve from the storm. Have you seen it before you entered?”

“It will pass,” Erland says, unwilling to match Arnaghad’s frantic cadence. His chest is a warm rumble behind Erland, an upset sky. Damn Arnaghad and his terrible timing. “Winter is always brutal in these parts and the storms bite, but they pass.”

“It’s not winter, we are coming up on Belleteyn.”

Belleteyn… that means it’s almost May. Erland blinks stupidly before the implications sink in. Snow storms in May simply don’t happen.

“By the gods,” he breathes, and grips Arnaghad’s hand which is splayed over his own chest. His body tenses up and the cave feels stuffy now. “How long has the storm been going on for?”

“October,” Arnaghad says warily and that is so much worse than Erland expected. A harbinger of conflict Erland can deal with, an old love he can squabble over, but he is not at all equipped to handle an apocalypse. It has to be the end of the world because October is only a month after Erland entered the mountains and straight-out winter for close to eight months can only mean one thing:

“The White Frost.”

Arnaghad nods, cheek rubbing against Erland’s head. A branch in the fire bursts with a mighty crack right then, as though it is afraid too. The prophesised end of the world. Erland always assumed it was a tale to scare children and he doesn’t believe in foresight. There is no other explanation. Arnaghad’s other hand draws Erland closer and his steady mass of muscles help anchor Erland as the emotional storm resumes alongside the one that rages outside.

“I know this is a lot, but we don’t have much time. Is there anywhere we can go? You are weak still and these peaks will not protect us for long.”

“I… yes. There is a gulf that runs deeply under Kaer Seren, it carries heat out of the earth’s core and disperses some leagues out into the ocean. We have dug our cellars deep enough to tap it for the winter months… we might have food stores left too, but… I don’t know that there is a way in any longer and with a snow storm we might die trying.”

“Better to die trying than to die giving up,” Arnaghad says.

“If this truly is the White Frost, is there any chance of survival?” Erland asks closing his eyes. This is not how he wants to go out, not when he still has so much grieving and loving to do. Not when he just discovered that he can.

“I’ve never been through an apocalypse before, I couldn’t tell you. We got this far, though, so we might as well try.”

“Might as well,” Erland sighs, pulling on Arnghad’s fingers to bite the tip of one of them. The other witcher grunts indignantly. “But I’m not spending the rest of eternity stuck in a damp basement with you if you are going to keep wearing that bearskin. My nose may be clogged up with snot, but I can still smell it and it reeks. Did you piss on it?”

“I didn’t, but you might have with all the feverish thrashing and moaning you did.”

“Fuck off,” Erland snaps and they both laugh. It’s a glimpse of a relationship they barely scratched the surface of back then. If they survive now, they could learn its ins and outs yet.

And if Erland is anything, if he’s ever been anything, it is determined. He is determined to give his long life one last purpose. It’s a selfish purpose, lacking chivalry and heroism, but Arnaghad was right. He did what he could and now he can allow himself this, a shot at love in the middle of the apocalypse. Erland’s had more idealistic and futile dreams.

“What a horrible retirement Destiny has chosen for us,” he says.

“This isn’t worse than being dragged away by an ugly mage and suffering his experiments for years and years.”

“Speak for yourself, big bear, speak for yourself.”

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@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo , @littoraly-art