#*grits teeth* we must be gentle with ourselves

[blossoms-phan]

winter is really cool bc like. summer can provide you with some beautiful warm moments but every second spent inside feels like you’re doing something fundamentally wrong in life and the days are so hard to fill sometimes but in the winter it’s socially acceptable for everyone to retreat into their homes at 5pm and ik some people find that depressing but as a homebody there’s literally nothing better than doing at least one thing during the day that makes you feel active or productive and knowing that the second it gets dark you can get cozy and indulge in a little routine and be in bed with a warm drink by 8pm

[the-baddest-of-batches]

Dar'Aliit: Chapter Ten - On My Own (Full ver.)

13 BBY Calamity Crew Quarters

"Ow ow!" I grit my teeth. The pain is sharp and quick and I should've slipped some painkillers from the medbay earlier. Bruises hurt more each day. Assuming this is...just a bruise. I hiss as I apply the edge of the kolto patch.

Over all my complaining, I don't hear the door slide open. It's too late by the time I hear the quiet and firm voice in the doorway.

"Commander?"

I forget my ribs, bad decision, turn, and wince. Myren stands in the doorway.

My embarrassment is immediate. Not from being seen shirtless, she's seen more of me than that, but from being seen; from being caught.

Her concern beats my embarrassment to the punch, though, and she strides into the room without waiting for an invitation. "What happened?"

Her eyes are hard to track, but I can feel that she's looking at the bandages I'm applying, and the way her brow creases, I know she's seen the bruise.

I try to keep the air light. "Training exercise," I turn, slowly this time, and settle back. "Some idiot put live rounds in the droid dummy." I chuckle, but the sound falls flat against Myren's silent worry. I look down. "Armor held. My ribs aren't as durable."

Myren reaches out and all the panic rushes to my head like adrenaline. I jerk my hand up, fingers stiffened in defense, and if not for Myren looking up, tilting her head just an inch to the right and catching me in her red stare, I realize I was ready to slap her away.

I would've hurt her.

I can't breathe.

All I can do is shove my hand down at my side and try not to let myself begin shaking.

Myren doesn't move but she looks at me as I'm desperately avoiding her gaze. It's her red eyes that stopped me, catching me off guard and breaking the panic. I'm not afraid of her. But I'm afraid of something she represents.

She raises one eyebrow. I know the look, her face angled with a hint of a frown. It's the same expression she always gives me for unnecessarily getting hurt, usually via my own stupidity.

It's an expression that silently asks, why do you do this to yourself?

And even more quietly offers, let me help.

Myren eventually sighs and sits beside me. I notice the datapad she's been holding in her hand. She came in here with a question, but it isn't the one she asks.

"Should I call Palpatine?" Myren turns off the datapad. She lays it aside.

I look at my feet. "Please don't."

Myren nods. "Then can I help?"

I don't panic this time, only because some deep buried part of me wants to nod; to ask meekly for a second set of hands. I can patch myself up, but after all these years, after...everything, I'm tired. People, we aren't made to care for ourselves. I haven't cared. Not since–

Myren hesitantly touches my shoulder. "Kian?"

My hands are balled up in fists at my sides. I must look unnaturally tense to her. Of all the people here, in Winterfang, Myren probably knows me best. Maybe that's why this idea of sitting here with her alone feels almost natural. Terrifying, but natural.

"Help would be nice," I say.

Myren nods. She leaves behind the datapad and whatever questions were going to be asked to stand and take over the job of patching me up. For a blunt person, her touch is gentle. As she applies each bandage I bite my life to keep from wincing, and somehow, there's never as much pain as I expect.

Myren finishes patching up my left side and straightens up. She pushes back a strand of hair which has escaped her bun. "Now, who should I be talking to about protocol regarding loading our dummy droids with blanks only?" Thinly veiled anger keeps Myren's voice stiff.

I wonder if Myren knows it, but she's less than subtly protective. And as someone who's seen her wrath, I wouldn't want it visited on many people.

"Not sure," I lie through my teeth.

I loaded the dummy droid.

I'm the idiot. Who in hindsight, hasn't gotten much sleep recently, and by protocol standards, shouldn't have been slogging it out with dummy droids when I have paperwork to do.

Myren exhales her frustration. She knows I'm lying, but she doesn't ask about it. She sits back down instead and lays her head on my shoulder. That's...new.

I still haven't sorted out how to feel about this, about us. Even knowing Myren as long as I have, there was always some sort of distraction. Work, war, all the usual things that keep two professional people professional. There's no distraction here.

The room feels a little less lonely with her in it, though. I should ask what she came in here for.

But instead, I lean my head against Myren's and discreetly, grab the edge of her datapad and slide it out of view. Her head is heavy against my shoulder. I can tell she's tired. We both are. War does not wait for any man, or woman.

"Have you ever been up to the observation deck?" I ask after a couple of minutes of silence.

Myren nods. "Yes, plenty of times."

It's the quietest place on the ship. No distractions, just you and space. I admit it's the one place I go when I feel like everyone else is getting a little too close. Good spot to be alone.

I lift my head and fumble for Myren's hand. "Want to go up there for a bit?"

Myren looks up at me. I think she knows what kind of invitation this is. From one lonely person to another.

Space is a dark place to be alone in. It'll make you feel small, almost expendable. It's easy to feel expendable. As a soldier I'm used to it. War makes you feel the same way. That's why we sit in trenches and talk about what we would do, someday, in that imaginary future where we survive.

"Sure," Myren finally says. She smiles, quietly, and softly. She gets up, but her hand is caught in mine. Our fingers tangled, I can do nothing but follow her as she pulls me to the door.

#

 20= BBY Coruscant Barracks

After two trips in a bacta tank and a medical bill of clean health, the medics released me. I re-wrenched my shoulder climbing out of the mines. Got a proper heckling from about every medic in the room on the dangers of straining old injuries, but they patched me up fine. My shoulder only clicks occasionally now. As for the scarring–

I turn my face side to side in the mirror of the 'fresher. That mark is never going away. The bandages came off, but there's burns all across the right and left sides. Half my skin and face, marred. I'm stuck with this, but there's morbid comfort in knowing I didn't come home unscathed. None of us did, whether inward or outward. That's what it means to be a clone who survives.

There isn't much left of this Bad Company that I've become a part of, and maybe that's why we're here back on Coruscant. I know this drill at least. The rookies who will fill in the ranks and take the place of the fallen. I was one of those rookies once. I've never asked myself who stood there before me.

I draw back from the mirror and pull all my loose hair back into a bun. Haze mocked me about the length one time.

You'll get it stuck in the door of an LAAT/i if you don't tame it!

I pull the bun a little tighter into place and turn. I snag my uniform shirt off a hook as well and key the door which leads back into the barracks. This is Coruscant. According to the minor debrief I was given, which was in reality just Headshot running his mouth, or as his teammates called it "giving the grand tour", Coruscant is the 560th's base of operations. General Nidor is part of the Jedi Council's intelligence teams and that means so are we.

The barracks today are empty. It's midday. I haven't been assigned anywhere in particular yet, and everyone else has a squad. I can't say I'm not jealous sometimes, or that I don't miss the company, but this is what I requested. And I can't say I'd be able to get close to anyone again either. But it's downright quiet here, and that hasn't sat right with me in days.

"Hey Kian," Headshot, the other straggler, waves from his bunk. I avert my eyes and keep walking to mine.

"Kian!" He's insistent. Another former rookie like me, and another survivor. He's on loan to Ronto squad, who just got back from patrol and half are asleep. At least the half I can see. The rest are likely out finding something to drink. Headshot, for whatever reason, is awake, and here. I don't hate him. I don't like him. He just likes to talk, a lot.

Headshot swings his legs off the bunk and comes chasing after me as I stalk to my own. I was out all night coming through data reports. I would like to get some sleep uninterrupted. That will not happen so long as Headshot is here.

"What?" I snap and keep walking.

Headshot pulls to a halt and squints at me. "What bit you in your sleep?"

I don't answer him.

"Well anyway!" Headshot is loud enough to wake a sleeping rancor. One without ears. "Addie commed in to have me send you up to the command station when I saw you."

No sleep for the weary it seems. I stop just before my bunk. "You should've led with that." I haul on my uniform shirt and button it up.

Headshot just shrugs and wanders back off. I know they don't resent me. Doesn't mean I can't hear them talking behind my back about my attitude, or about the fate of my squad.

I don't want their condolences or their comments. I just want to be left alone.

The Command station is down the block from the barracks. Since sleep was my only other option for an eventful afternoon, I arrive shortly. The patrol guards in rusty red painted armor let me through to the command room. Lights wink on readouts and computers in the pit as uniformed crew move like ants from station to station. We're a full sized intelligence post here. Given that the Jedi started as Pacifists, I don't know how they got roped into this war, but intel ops like this seem to be one way. I'm not sure General Nidor quite falls into the pacifist field, but here he is standing far from the nearest battlefield. Maybe it's because of who he is that he fits here. After all, you can't put boots on the ground until you've fought the battle of knowing your enemy.

But as exciting as that sounds, if there was a more boring job in the known universe, it couldn't beat this.

"Trooper," General Nidor stands between two uniformed officers trying to shove data pads in his face.

I walk over. "Sir." I salute.

Nidor looks at one of the Officers but addresses me. "I received word from High Command. They've located an intel droid that was lost several months back. A smuggler in the lower district," the General pulls away from the officers and leads me to the command center map. The levels of coruscant spill downward. The General points to one and a red blip appears as the map zooms to show the finer details.

"Here. Zenden's. Advertises itself as a scrapyard and spare parts shop, but a background check on the owner shows he's an independent contract smuggler. Last run dates back about five months, right in the sector where the droid went missing. We have reason to believe he's got the droid there and doesn't know what's on it." General Nidor looks up at me. "You're cleared for deployment, I want you to buy it back.."

"Buy it back?" I repeat. "A droid?"

"That carries highly classified military information," General Nidor's brow lowers. "Yes."

"Yessir." I can't argue with orders. At least I won't be stuck in the barracks for another week avoiding eye contact, and Headshot.

"I'm sending a small escort team with you. In case of resistance."

I stiffen. "Sir, I asked—"

"I respect your request," Nidor snaps back before I can finish. "But this droid cannot fall into enemy hands. You will have backup."

I shut my mouth and my teeth grind. "Yes. Sir."

More Jedi liars. I wonder how many lies it takes for a Jedi to turn out like Krell? Maybe this is how it starts.

"Good. You will rendezvous with the escort at dock 18 in the shipyards. I will have transport waiting for you there at 1500 hours."

I nod. The General turns around and with a wave of his hand, I'm dismissed. I should salute. I should acknowledge my orders, because that's what good soldiers do. That's what good pawns do.

I merely turn, and without a word, leave.

#

"So now we're risking our shebs for a droid?" A choice echoes across the dock as I walk, helmet in hand, toward the open edge. Traffic passes overhead, the usual menagerie of speeders, hover bikes, and vehicles that paint the Coruscant skies blacker the lower you go. To an off worlder, those traffic lanes probably look like suicide.

And this here is my own little suicide squad. Mine, only in the fact that I'm the one they're stuck with, and I'm probably the one that's going to get them killed.

The trooper who spoke up before leans against the seat of a Republic issued speeder. He looks in my direction, continuing to rub down the visor of his helmet. We aren't taking helmets with us this time. Civvies, because we have to blend in. Guess he didn't get the memo.

I don't recognize him either, nor the second clone dressed in an identical set of Civvies but looks like he's seen another side of hell than me. He's missing half his upper lip, the scar vanishing into the missing half of his nose. Both their eyes track me.

An eyebrow raises.

But it's a familiar voice that calls out first. "Kian?"

Headshot. I turn and he salutes me with two fingers against his close cropped hairline.

"You know him?" The scarred trooper gestures to me. I'm not here to take their flak, and I'm certainly not here to accept their help. Or risk their lives over mine.

"Well," Headshot looks at me. Maybe he picks up the glare. Maybe he picks up the fact I'm trying hard to keep my cool. Or maybe, for once in his life, he's just smart. Headshot turns to his speeder.

"Let's just get going."

The scarred clone glances at me. For once, me and Headshot agree. I stalk to one of the speeders waiting. I wish I had a helmet to put on right now. I don't need their names. I don't need to know anything about them. I'm just here to do a job. I'm a soldier, just like them.

"Right then," a voice breaks over the commlink snug in my ear. Everything about this operation is meant to be nondescript. "I'm going to assume you've all gotten briefed and know where we're going. New guy, you're running point because for whatever reason, the General said so."

They act like a well oiled machine. They act like they've known each other forever, but I know that can't be true. I got glimpses at all three faces. Headshot is blatantly new to the group, as am I. The other two?

Stop worrying about it. I swing onto the speeder and kick it into gear. The engine rumbles and traffic zips overhead. "I know what I'm doing," I repeat over the comms, fully aware I'm still within earshot too. I'm telling a bold faced lie. It's one every clone is good at believing.

"Well alright then," mutter's another voice.

The speeder HUD already has coordinates readied. I kick back the stand and haul it into the air. The engine roars. The city sprawls out, a maze of traffic lanes. Great place to get lost, or lose a little dead weight.

"Does he know he's supposed to wait for us?" someone sighs.

"Ah that's just Kian, he's antisocial."

Thank's, Headshot. I kick into second gear. I can put some distance between us. I need to. I mute the comm so their comments can't worm back inside my head. It's quiet without the chatter. It's quiet and it's...peaceful. I'm sure Headshot is making sure to tell them what a horrible person I am.

I suppose he's got a point. I haven't ever really been alone before. Aftermath was there after I lost Nyo and the others. He was there even after Kit, Bevik, Shave, and Mer'en. But it's all just part of that vicious cycle of filling the shoes of all the dead men before you. And there's only one way to put an end to it.

I check behind me. I can't see a single republic issued speeder. I don't even see Headshot, with his helmet painted like a red beacon. Just me and the mission now. I know what I'm doing. I've got my orders.

Hauling around into the next lane of traffic, I open the throttle and plunge into the belly of the city. 

[pandoradoesotherstuff]

The Moon in His Night Sky

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

A/N: Back on my Kollok: Council of the Gods bullshit. 🙈😂 I watched the last episode out of a full series and just fixated on it apparently. 🤦 Now instead of the God of Charm let me introduce you to the God of Night.

It's sad, it's angsty and it's forbidden love.

Enjoy! ❤️

(both GIFs by my best girl @astrandofgold/@ragingdumpsterfire ,😘)

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

It takes Night a while to track Moon down, weaving through the crowds of fellow Gods and Goddesses. He grits his teeth every time he's stopped, trying hard to make polite conversation and look as though he was paying attention. (He wasn't). Instead his eyes were scanning the room for any signs of her, ears pricked for the sound of her voice.

Eventually Night spots Moon through a doorway into one of the side rooms, thankfully alone, her back to him but he'd recognise that waterfall of silver hair anywhere. He looks around to make sure he enters the room unseen and quickly locks the door behind him, the last thing he needs is prying eyes trying to interfere where they don't belong.

Night pauses at the door taking in her sight before him, it had been a long time since they had been alone together, far too long. He can't help but smile fondly as their eyes meet in the reflection of the window Moon was looking out of. Chocolate brown meeting midnight sky. She returns the soft smile, eyes not leaving his until he stands next to her. They both look out at the swirling cosmos outside, enjoying the peaceful moment between them. Moments like these were few and far between.

"How have you been Night?" Moon's voice was just as soft and lulling as he'd remembered it. "Feels like its been an age since we last spoke, doesn't it?"

"I've been well". Night stands agonisingly close to her without actually touching. The gentle heat from her skin radiating through his clothing, urging him to reach out and touch, her light floral scent invading his senses, clouding his mind but he can't do a single thing about it. "All the better for seeing your beauty my dear".

"Niiiight....", she says playfully with a stern edge. Their eyes briefly meet again and she shakes her head with a sad smile.

Night knew he shouldn't say things like that, no matter how light a comment but he was finding it near impossible to stop himself. They'd danced around each other for eons now, unspoken feelings weighing on their souls for millennia.

"Moon, I have to say it. I can't pretend anymore that I don't feel anything! How long must we do this to ourselves?"

"Night, don't. Not now. We can't, you know we can't!"

"Moon please, I lo-"

"-No! It's...this... fuck!" Moon is biting on her bottom lip, staring at the floor with eyes that brim with sadness. She takes a deep breath, collecting herself before starting again. "I know what you're going to say and I, well, I do too. God that's weird to finally say out loud...But you're married Night, it's hard for me you know, to see you up there with her knowing that whatever I feel can't ever come to anything. So go, please, get out of here and leave me be! Enjoy time with your wife".

Night's mouth opens and closes a few times but for once the words that usually fall so easily from his lips have abandoned him. His heart aches as Moon blinks back tears that she refuses to let him be witness to.

"I-I see, of course. Whatever you wish". Night presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, lips lingering against her skin for a second or two before turning to leave.

"Good bye Moon".

The door clicks shut behind him, leaving Moon in the empty silence of the room once more. It had felt comfortable before but now it was cold and empty. Only now does she allow her tears to fall freely.

[howlingday]

the girls of rwby (along with nora and pyrrha) are all goddesses who have come to judge humanity... it's not going well and should it continue humanity will be destroyed

only one man can save us, JAUNE ARC! he will have to seduce and romance every one of them to save us all!

.... so how screwed is humanity?

Vice and Virtue

Long ago, far longer than you may remember, there was a time when humanity was truly in it's darkest hour. Horrible, black beasts known as Grimm rampaged across the land, destroying everything man had made. It seemed destiny deemed us unworthy of living, and we were condemned to perish like smoke in the wind.

But then they arrived. Seven, beautiful goddesses fell from the heavens and slew the beasts. Humanity was saved, but the goddesses' work was not yet done, for each bestowed a gift upon us.

From Ruby, the youngest of the Seven, came steel. She taught us to forge tools and weapons to defend ourselves from the Grimm, should we be beyond their grace. Thus, she was declared The Daughter of the Forge.

From Weiss, the stern lieutenant of the Seven, came Dust, a magical element designed to imbue our weapons and tools with properties of the elements themselves! Thus, she was known as the The Heiress of the Elements.

From Blake, the most recluse of the Seven, came knowledge. She taught us to read and write, as well as gifted us with a broader perspective of the world at large. Thus, she was awarded the title of The Mistress of Tomes.

From Yang, the most aggressive of the Seven, came strength. She taught us to no longer fear the beasts, but to grow angry and strike back tenfold of what we lost! Thus, she was acknowledged as The Mother of the Heart.

From Nora, the kindest of the Seven, came joy. She bestowed upon us the gift of laughter, the ability to think positively, to shirk away the horrors of the dark and to accept the light. Thus, she was accepted as the Queen of Laughter.

Yes, yes, children. I am about to tell you of our final goddess; the one who leads both the Seven as well as ourselves. However, you must know that she was the only one of the Seven to not gift humanity with a blessing, for she foresaw a great darkness within humanity; a terrible, evil thing that corrupts us, and forces our will to sin. So, instead, she ordered us to obey the Doctrine of Destiny.

Yes, my children; the very same Doctrine your parents order you to obey every day, from the Sun's Dawn to the Moon's Dusk. Thus, for this order, she was Pyrrha, Champion of Destiny!

Now, how do the Seven rule over us? Well, it all began long ago...

"Aaaaaaugh!" Nora screamed. "This is so boring! Can we please watch a different mortal?!"

"Not yet!" Ruby shouted back. "I need to see if he wins her!"

"You can look back at the dumb sword later!"

"I'll show you a dumb sword!" Ruby leaped over the table, tackling Nora. "It's called my fist!"

"Nora toss!" Ruby flew through the air, landing into Yang and Blake as the two were passing by.

Blake groaned as she sat up from her fall. She looked down at the dazed, smaller goddess, whose head was in her lap. Once Ruby came to, she immediately fell asleep. Blake grumbled and pinched Ruby's cheeks to wake her.

Yang, however, leapt from her fall and charged around the table, chasing the fleeing Nora. The shorter girl wailed and cried as she was pursued, but this did not slow the golden goddess. If anything, it spurred her to pick up her pace.

Weiss, sat down and watched as the mortal failed his test, the sword carried away by an older man, presumably his father. She swiped to a different mortal, who was cowering as another portal pushed him towards the water. Bored with him, she swiped again.

Pyrrha stepped down from her alcove to investigate the chaos. She watched as Yang chased Nora, Ruby sleep on top of Blake, and Weiss swipe across mortals on the viewing port. She sighed as she walked down the steps to the port. Extending a hand, she caught Yang, letting Nora continue to run. As Yang swung at Pyrrha, she caught her fist.

"Stop." Yang lowered her fist, and head, and sat down next to Weiss.

Pyrrha then made her way to Blake, trapped by the sleeping goddess in her lap. She knelt down and tapped her face. The goddess stirred, but did not wake.

"He failed." Ruby immediately awoken and rushed to the port. There she argued with Weiss to use it. Pyrrha helped Blake up and led her to the table, where she sat next to Yang. "Nora." The girl stopped, looking to Pyrrha. "Sit." She did as she was told.

Weiss returned the port to the downtrodden young man in the port. He was sitting on a stump, head down as he sighed.

"Oh no!" Ruby cried. "He did fail!"

"So what? It was just a sword." Nora commented.

"You're just a sword!" Ruby stood to restart her assault, but Yang shot her a glare, and she sat down.

"I'm sure it was a really good sword, but it's not worth fighting over." Yang said, trying to calm Ruby. She watched as the boy sat and moped, head in his hands. She twisted her face in discomfort as she thought. 'Could do without his moping, though.'

"Agh!" Pyrrha gripped her head as her emerald eyes shined with a beautiful, green light. As beautiful as it was, however, it could not compare to the agonizing burning sensation she felt in her head. The others watched, for they knew what this was. It was the reason she was the head of the goddesses, their leader blessed with a powerful gift. Pyrrha was recieving a prophecy, a vision of a destiny to be realized.

And from the pain she was in, it was a prophecy to come soon. A fate that often ended in a death.

The young man stood before Pyrrha, sword in hand. He raised his blade high above him, both hands gripping the hilt, and brought it low. The next image was of the young man weeping over the fallen form of the goddess. She lay still at his feet, his blade soaked in blood.

When Pyrrha came to from her vision, the others surrounded her.

"Step away," Weiss called out, "let her breathe!"

"What happened?" Nora kneeled next to Pyrrha, refusing to back away as the others had. "Did you have a vision?"

"Yes." Pyrrha stood on shaky legs as Nora guided her to her feet. "I foresaw that man, and he will be my death."

The others stood in silence, each slowly turning their heads to the morose lad on his seat. Nora and Ruby shared a look of concern, while Yang and Weiss grit their teeth in anger. Blake, however, approached the port. She studied the mortal as though he were a puzzle to be solved.

After a few moments, she sighed, looking back to Pyrrha. "What do you suggest?"

"I say we kill him!" Yang barked with rage. "A mortal who threatens the goddesses must be dealt with severely!"

"Must you be so barbaric?" Weiss rolled her eyes. "I suggest we place him in the Dust mines. Some hard labor will deter any attack."

"We could just, you know, ignore him?" Nora offered. "He doesn't have a sword, so I don't see why we should even bother worrying about him."

"I say we steal his sword!" Ruby leapt onto the table around the porthole. "He can't hurt us if he doesn't have it!"

Blake sighed, and walked to Pyrrha. Guiding her to her seat, she knelt next to her and massaged her hand. As Pyrrha regained her bearings, Blake asked again.

"What do you suggest?"

Jaune Arc carried hay from the storage unit to the stable. As he tossed it over the fence, two horses approached him, a stallion and a mare. The stallion was black with a fiery-orange mane, and a temper to match. The mare was white with a mane of gold, and spirit as gentle as a morning breeze.

The two shared this stable since they were purchased by his family years ago, since Jaune was only a lad. He had always dreamed of being a warrior, fit for his family name, but it seems he was only fit for tending to these two. But he didn't mind. These two were his responsibility, after all, so it wouldn't be fair to leave them alone for him to play hero.

Still, though, the thoughts never left his mind. He imagined battling ferocious monsters. He dreamed rescuing damsels and the innocent from the wicked. He fantasized traveling outside these lands atop his horse.

But which one? The stallion was certainly brave, if his temper was any way of telling. But his temper was mostly directed towards Jaune. If the boy traveled too close to the stable, the stallion would rear back and charge towards him, before tearing back again and stomping his hooves around him.

Perhaps the mare then? Ah, but where the stallion was bold, she was as shy. She would often hide away into the shade of the stable, leaving it's safety only for meals or when no one else was nearby. She wasn't a mare for heroics. To say she was a mare for anything besides shying away would be completely untrue.

As the two ate from their pile, Jaune leaned in and pet their heads. The stallion grunted while the mare's ears flicked. He smiled and leaned against the fence, sighing with satisfaction.

"Such beautiful creatures, no?"

Jaune looked to his right and saw a robed figure standing next him. They were tall, with a deep crimson robe with golden trimmings. The voice sounded feminine, leading Jaune to think the figure was a woman. She turned and smiled at him, the robe covering the rest of her face. "What are their names?"

"Names?" Jaune looked to the horses, holding his chin with his fingers. "I... don't know. We never named them."

"No? Beautiful creatures deserve beautiful names, no?" She extended her pale, delicate hand towards him. "Like yourself. I'm sure you have a beautiful name."

Jaune blushed a bit at that. "Uh, Jaune. My name is Jaune."

"Jaune." She said his name with a sigh, like it was a pleasant breeze on a clear, summer day. "Why haven't you named these horses, Jaune?"

"I... I don't know." He turned around and leaned back against the fence. "I never thought about naming them."

"Never?" Jaune shook his head. The woman pointed her finger at the stallion, who snorted and flared his nostrils at her. "You have a fiery soul; a temper like a volcano, and twice as dangerous. Henceforth, you will be Vulcan."

The stallion stomped his hooves at his naming, like a child throwing a tantrum. The woman giggled at this and reached into the stable.

"Wait! Don't-!" Jaune reached to woman, but as he grabbed her, he slipped and fell onto his face. He wiped to mud from his face and witnessed something unbelievable.

Vulcan, the stallion who never let anyone near his stable without an offering, placed his head against the woman's palm. He breathed calmly as she stroked her thumb along his hair. She removed her hand and kneeled to lift Jaune to his feet.

"What about her?" She asked, gesturing to the mare. "What would her name be?"

Jaune looked at the mare. She looked back at him, almost expectantly, as she shook her head. She was beautiful; a horse many would fight for just to have and gloat about it. If Jaune were a warrior, he would be proud to be held aloft by such a magnificent creature.

"Gloria." He said. "Her name is Gloria." She trotted by to her shade, but he noticed that she had livelier steps in her canter. He chuckled.

"But what about you?" Jaune looked to the woman. "Does this beautiful creature have a name?"

The woman chuckled. "Indeed." She removed her hood with a smile, and down her head flowed a beautiful river of hair that reminded him of a fire-pit, with piercing eyes like those of gemstone. "I am the disciple of my goddess, the Lady of Black, and my name is Cinder Fall."

[out-of-jams]

Space Trash || teaser || jhs

↠ Space Trash ↞ “I mean, we escaped from prison, accidentally stole this super important data drive, and now we’re about to try and take on one of the biggest, baddest douche bags in the entire universe. We gotta at least come up with a name to call ourselves so they have something to put on our tombstones.” Hoseok glanced around at each and every one of your faces slowly, smile beaming in an attempt to rally the troops.

“How about ‘The Guardians of the Galaxy’,” Jimin offered with his bright, lavender hued eyes trained to the metal ceiling of the Milano in thought. “It has a nice ring to it.”

“That’s a little too ostentatious for this circus of clowns. We’re more like space trash than galaxy guardians,” you scoffed. A moment of brief silence passed where all that could be heard was the gentle, constant thrumming of the ship as it drifted in space. “Oh, no.”

“I kinda like it,” Jungkook voiced and scratched his tattooed neck, accompanied by the agreeing murmurs of everyone else and an ‘I am V!’ from V.

Hoseok beamed. “Space Trash, it is!” 

“No!”

pairing: Hoseok x Reader

word count: TBD. possibly 20-30k holy space balls this will take me forever omfg

release date: TBD

warnings/genre: guardians of the galaxy!au. S2E2EL2L. violence. comedy. i swear this isn’t pure crack. angst. space au. they’re all criminals. pilot/thief/why am i here/don’t make me stab you!Reader. (HIIC) head idiot in charge!Hoseok. i eat nails for breakfast but can’t tie my own shoes!Jungkook. pink skinned sassy weapons master techie genius beautiful superior to all others (”who is letting that narcissistic asshole write his own descriptions?”)!Jimin. is that a fucking talking tree!Taehyung. explicit language. one shot. rated M for badassMotherfuckers.

He was staring and you were starting to get more annoyed than you usually were on any day that ended in a ‘y.’  

It was obvious, seeing as how he refused to even blink. You’d think that someone would know better than to do it so conspicuously. Especially in a place such as the Kyln, otherwise known as the dreaded bowels of the galaxy’s most inescapable prison. Only criminals of the highest degree were ever dragged there by the galaxy’s military police: The Nova Corps. Murderers, intergalactic thieves, underground warlords, whoever ran up enough of a bounty that a Headhunter would want to cash them in for credits, you name it.

You fell into two of those categories, though, you supposed, rather three. A repercussion of too many stolen ships from when you’d jump from planet to planet in search of something besides the next place you’d put your sticky fingers. A kleptomaniac, your parents had called you. But you’d needed something to keep yourself busy and out of the house when their fighting had gotten to be too much.

Until that led you to packing your bags in the dead of night and stealing your retired dad’s old, busted down, single passenger ship that you’d oh-so-painstakingly repaired over the years. One jump through The Universal Neural Teleportation Network (UNTN) later and you were finally free. Of the yelling, of the constant comparison to your dead brother who’d done more with his life than you could ever hope to accomplish.

(But no matter how far you ran, the stench of cigarettes and booze and the metallic haze of blood from a busted nose or swollen lip or blackened eye would never wash out of your system.)

Fast forward to three months ago when you’d stolen a ship from a guy who was angry enough and rich enough to hire a whole squad of Headhunters to bring you down. It wasn’t your fault that you hadn’t known he was apart of the Government Counsel on the frosty planet of Contraxia, seeing as how it was mostly inhabited by sexbots, and the man had been a pink skinned Krylorian.

Though, sending ten men after one woman was a bit of an overkill, if you had any say about it. But no one asked your opinion on the Kyln unless they wanted to know which way you preferred to have your insides carved up. You kept to yourself mostly. Not that you weren’t personable, you just had no interest making friends with serial killers. Or murderers. Or serial killers who killed murderers. Or murderers who killed serial killers who killed murderers, because there were about five of them wandering around somewhere.

Which was exactly why you were two seconds away from slamming your metal lunch tray so hard into that leering douche bag’s face that he woke up in another galaxy. He was sitting across the mess hall, with its jumbled chaos of shouting yellow skinned, hairless Aakons, and Courgs stuffing their muzzled, dog like faces with the slop they called food, and the rest of the gaggle of fear-mongering A-holes spilling out of their cells.

He was easy to spot solely for the fact that he was sitting at the bottom half of a table by himself like the seats around him were vacated because he had bad body odor. The piss yellow, tank-top-like shirt and matching pants combo weren’t well worn enough to signify that he’d been stuck in that hellhole for a while. If the blatant staring didn’t give him away as a newbie, that certainly would have. You couldn’t see the color of the stripes on his pants from where you sat, so the classification of whatever crime he’d committed to get in there was a mystery.

The sudden squinting of his — what looked to be from the distance you sat at — muddy brown eyes had a glare sparking to life on your face. He looked human with his obnoxiously sharp jawline and tanned skin and heart shaped lips, but there were a lot of species out there who only appeared to be so.

Whatever the reason for his gawking, he must have found what he was looking for because he stood up away from his full tray of food and picked his way across the room towards you. A fight wasn’t on your itinerary for the day, but you’d gladly shove your metal spork through his eyehole if he tried anything funny.

Or if the thing about him having B.O. rang true. The last thing you wanted to deal with was a prick who smelled like a box of musty socks that mated with a sewer grate and popped out a sharp-nosed baby.

Your fingers tightened around your spork as he approached like he had all the time in the world, and a pair of Courg’s hadn’t descended on his untouched food tray four steps behind him like they hadn’t eaten in days. Even though they had just licked their own clean. Your eyes flickered down to the green stitching threaded through the left upper thigh of his pants.

Treason, your mind supplied. Crimes against more than one governing agency on more than one planet. Possibly in more than one galaxy. 

The definition of treason ranged far and wide, from assassinating a planet’s leader, to selling trade secrets, to figureheading a revolution. Or something else just as equally detrimental.

The moment he made it to your once peaceful corner, he immediately sat down on the stool soldered into the table without asking for an invitation. At least he didn’t smell. 

“Hey there, beautiful. Come here often?”

You were about to say to hell with it and stab him anyway. “What,” was spat out through gritted teeth.

“You.” His voice was low, pitched with a grating vocal fry like he’d just woken up and the first things he’d chosen to spew from his pink hued mouth was that. Leaning forward, he braced his folded hands on the cold, metal table and two tiny, twin dimples peaked out from the corners of his lips when he grinned. “Come here. Often? Beautiful.” 

“Oh, is that what got you landed in here?”

Your response must have caught him off guard since his eyebrows pinched together in confusion and it took him a moment to formulate words. “Pardon?”

“Idiocy,” you supplied him with an answer. “You. In here. Because dumb?”

All works here are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission. That is illegal and you are stealing no matter if you give credit or not.

[isnt-it-loverly]

little birdie//five hargreeves

Warnings: tried a new pov and it did not go well

Summary: When Five lands in the Sparrow Academy, he must convince one of them to help him reset the timeline. 

Word count: 1540

Author note: part two is out find it here

part three, part four, part five

“This is not your home,” Your father spoke, “this is the sparrow academy.” 

You smirked ever so slightly at his words. Your entire life you had been prepared for this, the day that they would come and threaten everything that your family held dear. This was everything that you had worked for. Soon it would all be over, and you would finally have your chance at normal. 

Number five, he had called you. Much like your umbrella counterpart you were deadly. All you had to do was to look into his eyes and he would be yours to control, you’d have all the information you would need to take them down. 

You watched intently as they pleaded with Number One. How curious, you thought. 

You almost felt bad for them, how they whined like little lost children. You couldn’t help but watch their Number Five intently. He was young like you. Instinctively, you pushed up your sunglasses to make sure that they completely covered your eyes, and wondered if his power came with a price too. 

Soon your father called each of you by number. Then tension in the room was thick, and it was easy to see that it made the Umbrellas uncomfortable. They all flinched as their number was called, just as your siblings did. Maybe they weren’t so different from you after all. 

“Number Five!” Your father's voice rang through the air. 

Five took notice of you, as he had for all of his newfound “siblings”. He watched intently as you straightened your jacket, and placed your glasses in the side pocket. Bewilderment took over as he noticed your eyes.  They were such an unnatural shade of blue, deep like the ocean and endless like space. He also took into account your age as well. So young and innocent appearing, but with a number like 5- he knew your looks were deceiving. 

Reginald called you forward and asked you to demonstrate so they could see the academy’s peak potential. 

“Yes, father,” you spoke timidly. The sound was quiet and didn’t carry very far, but yet still obedient and full of determination. Your gaze soon set on him. 

Five felt a cold feeling wash over him and his knees buckle. Crumpling to the ground, he gasped, “What are you doing?”

He couldn’t look away from you no matter how hard he tried. You knelt down and placed a cool 

hand on his cheek. It was soft and gentle, the feeling matched your innocent physique. “This will be over soon, try not to fight it. It will only make it worse,” he heard your voice but no movement or sound came from your lips. That’s when it dawned on him, that you were in his head. 

“No,” he choked. There was an ache in your heart, something about this felt wrong. However, this was always the part you hated most, the fear in their eyes as you took over. 

Fire danced across the rubble of your newfound surroundings, there was nothing but destruction as far as the eye could see. The worst part about it was the fact that you were entirely alone and incredibly scared. The academy was reduced to ash, and crimson stains filled the street. The burgundy jacket you sported was now a navy blue, picking up a shard of glass you see Five’s reflection staring back at you. This is a memory? You look for any signs of life in the rubble, for anyone or anything that might still be clinging on to life. The only thing you found were the lifeless bodies of everyone you loved- no he loved, sometimes the feelings could get confusing. Yet you felt what he felt, everything from the guilt to the regret to the grief. It was the worst you had ever experienced. Taking a shaky breath, you lean against the rubble, biting your lip as hard as you can to distract from the pain this remembrance had caused. 

“Its awful isn’t it?” a voice called. Your heart dropped into your stomach, it was just supposed to be you here. You turned to see Five staring at you. Rendered absolutely speechless you quickly touch your face and realize that your features are your own. This was impossible, he shouldn’t be here. The fact that he had slipped through your grasp angered you beyond means.

“How are you doing this?” You ask through gritted teeth. Five was amused, you had much more spunk when Reginald wasn’t there to control you. 

“I’m not as dense as your average Joe, once I realized what you were doing I knew I had to divert you here before you had full control. I needed you to see this,” he explained. You looked around at your surroundings once again, there wasn’t much to look at other than death and destruction. Why was this the first thing he wanted you to see? He noticed the look of puzzlement on your face and decided that it would be best to take things slowly.  

“Do you have a name?” He asked. He searched your eyes carefully, they were full of confusion, and yet he could tell that you were intrigued. 

“Five,” you answered. “That’s your number, If you’re going to be in my head we might as well get on a first-name basis,” He retorted. 

You looked down solemnly, “That is my name. Father said names made us weak and that they would place divides in us. But when we were kids we used to pretend to have names. I would always choose (Y/n). What about you?” 

“I thought the same thing my-” he cleared his throat, “our father did when I was younger, thought I was above my siblings so I never chose one. I’m just Five, but I think it kinda suits me,” he finished with a small smile. His warm emerald eyes looked at you and your heart melted. They were so sad and you could tell that there were a million stories hiding behind them. Eyes were the windows to the soul, and suddenly all your malice towards him melted away. 

“This what we were trying to stop. The big Dooms Day of 2019, but it appears my family and I have a knack for royally screwing shit up. We apparently got ourselves unadopted,” he explained. Five made his way over to you, cautious to make sure he didn’t frighten you away. You may have not realized it yet, but you could’ve put a stop to this little rendezvous whenever you wanted. He wanted you to listen, no, he needed you to. He sat next to you and pointed to the remains of the academy.  

“That was our home too, I’m sure we had very similar childhoods. The training sessions must have been interesting with you around,” five said light-heartedly. You knew what he was doing, trying to distract you from your purpose. But you liked the company, it was nice to be able to talk to someone outside your family.

“‘My power is very hard to control. When I was a little girl, I could get stuck. I’ve lived a thousand lives, been so many people. That’s why I look so young, while I’m out of body… I don’t age, don’t hunger, never thirsty. Just still like a statue,” you explained. It was too much information, but who was he going to tell. It felt so right to sit with him, and you knew your secrets were safe with him. 

“I got trapped in this hell for forty-five years when I returned to my rightful time- I miscalculated my equations. One decimal off and now I’m going through puberty again,” he said with a sad smile. He looked at you, and suddenly his smile faded. You searched his eyes and they were full of sorrow and regret. 

“I need your help, (Y/n), this timeline is wrong. This could destroy the fabric of reality, everything could cease to exist. My family, yours, the entire world gone. This is the new apocalypse. If we don’t fix this… I’m afraid this may be our future,” Five explained solemnly. You heart welled when he called you by a name, it had been so long since someone had treated you like a person and not a tool for extracting information. You gulped as the information played over in your head again. This is exactly what your father had warned you about, they always brought the end with them. You stood quickly and backed away from the boy. 

“(Y/n) please, you have to believe me,” he pleaded. Before he could say anything else, there was a flash and the warmth rushed into him. He looked up to see you towering over him, sapphire eyes brimming with tears.

“Well Number Five,” Reginald spoke firmly, “what did you learn?”

“He knows something about the apocalypse, I think them being here causes it,” you replied meekly. All your kindness and bravery you showed Five was gone, your father had a way of doing that to people.  

Reginald stood and cleared his throat. His eerie presence loomed over the room and all fell quiet. “Sparrows, kill them,” he instructed. 

[iwriterobots]

Claw-Shaped Scars

Alice has a claw-shaped scar on her right thigh. I’ve seen it, even traced my hand along its rough edges. The skin is pulled tight around the three, raised marks on her leg where something once raked across her flesh. The muscle underneath is taught and twisted, hardened like her soul. I knew it was there, of course—we all did. Even if she didn’t show it.

“It’s from the beast.” She says, sliding to the edge of the bed beside me and yanking on her worn-out jeans. 

“I’m sorry, that must have been very painful.” 

Alice just looks at me, expression steadfast and knowing. I’ve seen this face before, of course—her brow unwavering but kind, eyes soft but intense. It is a face she wears often. With it comes begrudging patience, for weathering a storm of recovery, for repeating the same fake answers again and again. But I know how her scars still ache, how she must stretch them against the pain shooting through her leg and the guilt shooting through her mind. I know how Alice pushes herself, how she treats that pain like an old friend, how she greets it with gritted teeth each step of the way.

She heaves herself to her feet with a grunt, fetches her cane from where it rests against the night stand, and extends a hand to me. Together, we leave the small cabin at the top of the hill and head down the path towards the beach below. 

Alice works mostly freelance these days. That’s what she tells people, anyway, though I still don’t know what kind of work that entails. I picture her cutting down trees in some ratty, old overalls, hauling the logs over her shoulder to a rustic timber mill in the middle of the woods. Something strong like that. It’s just how Alice has always been. Even before the beast, before the scars, she was determined to be known as the strongest friend. Maybe one day she’ll realize that she always has been.

We don’t tell the story that often nowadays, but when we do, we make sure to tell it right. You see, when the beast came hunting for Alice in our neck of the woods, I prayed for him. Poor bastard didn’t know the kind of hell he was in for, picking a fight like Alice. Sure, he could bite, but Alice could thrash just as hard. Sure, he could roar, but Alice’s snarl was twice as piercing. Sure, he had those gnarled, raking claws of his, but for each slash into her leg, Alice had three of us in her corner, ready to patch her up and hand her a baseball bat or metal chair. The beast was never going to win. 

Alice tells it differently, of course. 

“I hit him too, you know.” She tells us each year. “And as I wailed on him, he just kept howling at me, begging me to stop. He was spitting blood up at me, right into my eyes. Now I just see red.” 

We hold her. And to each anxious gasp, we respond with reassurance—truth. A kiss that says, “It’s over now.” A squeeze of the hand that says, “We’re still here for you.” A gentle arm draped about the shoulders that says, “You are stronger than these scars.”

Alice winces as we make our way towards the others who are waiting for us on the beach. She stops after each big step, turning back to me with a gentle smile and offering a hand to help me down. I smile back at her. No, the beast could never truly stop you, I think to myself. 

 I can hear Owen laughing as we get closer, his voice warmer than the fire pit and ten times more inviting than the sweet, wafting scent of smores. As we take our first steps into the cool, gritty sand, he calls out to us with a grin. 

“What took you two so long?”

“Alice didn’t want to put her pants back on,” I tease, and he guffaws, throwing his head back with laughter.

Owen’s neck is an intricate lattice of the cracks and fractures left behind by dancing flames. They promised to choke him, once. Now the white-hot whispers of their empty threats weave their way along his beautiful, pock-marked skin. But those scars will never outshine that smile. 

I’ve known Owen since I was a kid. He ran around in my backyard so many nights and spent so many family dinners with us, my mom likes to say that she raised him too. But I know that he raised himself, really. We all do. I can see it in the faces he makes as he listens to someone talk, hear it in the way he laughs at our jokes, encouraging us to be ourselves. 

Owen was a loud, talkative kid before high school. He learned loud, he played louder, and he hurt loudest of all. But I never minded. I remember our teachers in middle school would berate him for blurting out answers. They never cared that he was right, that he was brilliant. None of the other kids in our classes wanted to listen to him either. They knew a black sheep when they saw one. But I’ve always liked it when he dyes his hair darker. 

Through the years, they built a pyre in his soul, stacked logs against his heart, struck a match on his spark of creativity, and then had the gall to ask him for a light, for his warmth. And when the smoke clawed as his throat, when his words smoldered in his mouth and the oxygen burnt up in his lungs, Owen got quiet. 

We’ve spent the last few years putting out the fire. I still try to turn on the sprinkler system when we have some alone time, just to make sure it works. It had been rusted shut for so many years, backlogged with the tears that had evaporated in the heat of a blaze that screamed, “shut up.” 

As we approach the campfire, Owen drapes a blanket across my shoulders and takes my hand, ushering Alice and I in to sit with the others before continuing with the story he had just been telling. He still coughs against the few lingering wisps of smoke that haunt his lungs, but they can’t choke him anymore. He shouts the funny parts of his tale and laughs along with us. It’s a loud, hearty laugh, the kind that makes you shake with your whole body until you’re wiping your eyes and holding your gut. And that’s just what we do. It’s the kind of laugh that makes you love him. And that’s just what we do. 

When only embers remain, and the stars hum along to the gentle melody of the waves caressing the shore, I drape blankets and give good-night kisses on the forehead. The others sleep peacefully on the beach behind me, hearts full and tired as I walk through the sand to the old, wooden platform that protrudes out into the waves. Rippling blackness extends out before me, moon reflected in its stillness. I lie there at the edge of the dock, feet kissed by the lapping water below, as I trace a familiar face in the stars overhead.

I have a nail-shaped scar in the palm of my right hand where I once fought to hold onto you. Fought harder than I ever have. Harder than I will ever be able to again. Tears begin to blur the twinkling lights above me. 

It didn’t matter in the end, of course. 

I still lost my grip. 

I trace the hardened indents with the fingers of my other hand as I lie there. I’ve grown used to feeling the aches of these scars softened by the love of another, cradled in the tender grip of a hand in mine. I wonder if the others can feel the desperation with which I grasp their love, too afraid of losing my grip again. I wonder if they can see themselves in every shared memory of you. 

I still haven’t let go of you, have I?

[thorin-is-a-cuddler]

Getting to know them

A/N: Alright, I love The Old Guard and ofc I adore the messy one the most: Booker 💗 I wanted to write something slightly shippy for him and Andy, so it‘s definitely suggested in this One Shot. :) Nile asks the gang a question: what is your weakness? I‘m sorry, I can‘t do the „keep reading“ thing

Nile looked around with curious eyes, scanning each and every single member of Andromache’s so called army. All of them were male. All of them seemed a little mysterious and suspicious to her. Except for Nicky with his gentle smile. And Joe, too. Basically the only really suspicious looking person at the table was Booker.

There was a milky fog in his eyes that seperated him from the rest.

Nicky and Joe gave off a warm, welcoming aura that was too honest to be anything but real. There was the sharp piercing coldness in Andy’s eyes that was scary at first, but eventually appeared to Nile as the natural look of someone who had been alive for ages and eons - and had seen horrors beyond imagination. But in Booker’s eyes there was nothing readable or analyzable going on. Sure, there was a certain amount of sadness and possibly tiredness visible in that milky fog. Apart from that nothing really invited Nile to look closer.

He was friendly enough. But he also seemed the most reserved among the group.

What Nile did notice was a short lively flicker in his gaze when Andy entered the room with a new bottle of Scotch. He straightened out his back and seemed a lot more attentive all of a sudden. Nile wasn’t capable of telling whether the outlook on more booze or the sight of Andy herself was causing that slightly more vivid reaction. It definitely caught her interest.

Especially since Andy’s attention upon entering the room was directed at Booker first. It was short and seemed like an uncontrollable impulse on her side. But both of their faces were grazed with a short blink-and-you-miss-it smile when their eyes met. Almost timid.

Nile turned her head to check Nicky’s and Joe’s possible reactions to this quiet exchange between their „boss“ and colleague (?). But the two of them were pretty busy with staring into each other’s eyes. Nile was close to rolling her eyes. Please, someone assure her that she didn’t stumble into a group of immortal lovey-dovey couples.

She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. Her mother would have called her posture „sulking“, but none of the people in the room were aware of that luckily. „So.“ She sternly said, raising everyone’s attention towards her.

Andromache took the seat next to Booker - aha, suspicious enough - and put the bottle down on the table in front of her. She raised her brows and had another silent exchange with her neighbor who was smirking pretty obviously now.

„So.“ He repeated, crossed his arms and sat back, eyeing her with what could have been called challenging, but most likely was a mix of slightly drunk and generally tired. She was seated next to him on the far end of the table and had a good look on everyone. They all seemed very eager to hear what she had to say.

„I feel I have quite the disadvantage in this group of ours.“ Nile almost stumbled over the word „ours“. It didn’t feel natural on the tip of her tongue yet.

„Why’s that?“ Nicky asked, listening attentively with a kind look in his eyes. He reminded her of her brother which was why she quickly had to look away. She gulped and tried not hold her own hand too tightly.

„I don’t mean to be rude, but since you all are so much older than I am and have known each other for so much longer, I feel like I should get to know a few things about you all.“ Nervously Nile bit down on her bottom-lip, before she concluded with: „We are going to sleep in the same room after all.“

Booker unexpectedly started to laugh after that last sentence. He had a deep voice that made his laughter sound very pleasant. They all seemed to have nice laughs, though, which Nile could convince herself of in that specific moment as they all joined in on Booker’s low chuckles. Nile blushed against her will - as blushes tended to happen - and gritted her teeth. But no one looked at her with ill intend. They all seemed to get where she was coming from.

She relaxed a little, when Andy nodded at her with a smile. „Of course, you can ask us whatever you want.“

„Ah,“ Joe interrupted and gave Nile a meaningful look, „everything above waistline.��

Nicky scrunched up his face at that and made a slightly put-off noise as he closed his hand around Joe’s atop of his armrest. Joe laughed as Andy and Booker made similar grossed put noises. Andy additionally decided to throw a napkin in his direction. It was all in good humor and Nile couldn’t help but let a small smile appear on her features.

„Ask away, Nile,“ Nicky encouraged her and pushed Joe’s shoulder with his own to make his giggles die.

Nile looked at every single one of them and leaned in closer. „Okay, since we are making ourselves very vulnerable in this constellation, the question that first comes to mind is: what are your weaknesses?“

Again everyone’s similar reaction was to groan. Except for Joe who was still giggling just the littlest bit. Despite that big wave of nope, Nicky was the first and quickest to answer: „Joe. That is not a hard question for me.“

Booker rolled his eyes, as Joe’s giggles stopped altogether and he turned his head to look at his lover with devotion and fondness. Andy didn’t look at them, but she was smiling.

„I hope it does not count for less, because I am saying it second. But for me it is Nicky. Nothing is certain. And my world, my life revolves around him.“ Nicky extended his hand in response and touched Joe’s face with his fingertips, gently moving them down his cheek. Joe leaned in closer to steal a soft and tender kiss from his lover. For Nile this characterized the two of them as deeply loyal and overwhelmingly in love. It was hard to imagine how deep their love for each other truly was. Since it must have rooted deep, deeply into the earth, closer to the core than any love before had ever reached.

Andy raised her voice and matter-of-factly said: „My weakness is baklavas.“

Booker squeezed his eyes shut and started laughing again, shaking his head and grumbling: „That’s not fair.“

„It’s the truth though.“ Andy held against his claim with a smirk, pulling something out of her jeans pocket and unfolding it in front of Nile’s eyes. Nile could see that the wrapping paper had contained a little dessert. Andy held it close to her nose and inhaled. She smiled. „Mhhh.“ Carefully she wrapped it up again, storing it back in the pocket next to her knee. She glanced up at Nile. „I’m not sharing this with you ever.“

Nicky and Joe laughed at that and somehow seemed to have gotten even closer to each other than before. Nile was really looking forward to sharing a room with them…

„Which leads us to you, Booker.“ Nicky pointed out, making a movement with his hand in the blond man’s direction.

„Yes, Booker, what is your weakness?“ Andy asked with a sort of flashy smile, moving a bit closer to the man in the chair next to her who was cluelessly raising his arms and shrugged.

„Uhm… well… maybe the booze?“ He asked, toasting to Nile and downing his drink, looking at the others for approval. Which he didn’t get. Andy shook her head vehemently and seemed very focused on him now. Nile watched the two of them like a movie. They seemed comfortable around each other in a way that was similar to Nicky and Joe - at least potential-wise.

„No, that doesn’t count. That’s just a terribly bad habit.“ Andy told him and put his glass out of reach to allow him no refill.

„Ah, pardon, but the baklava counts?“ Booker exclaimed, pushing Andy’s shoulder and meaning to grab for his glass again, which was easily pushed even further out of his reach by the leader of the group.

She grinned and put her hand against his chest to keep him from getting up. „Baklavas are basically art and I doubt that can be said about Scotch.“

„Oh, I am ready to defend the arts of Scotch, Boss. I believe I even studied them back in the day of-“ Booker’s ironical soliloquy was stopped abruptly during the tame wrestling fight against Andy when the formerly worshipped godess shoved her hands under his arms and started tickling.

Nile’s mouth opened in awe, as Booker immediately crumbled on his chair, trying to defend himself with his elbows close to his ribs and his body twisted uncomfortably. His eyes were squeezed shut, the tip of his tongue was poking out between his teeth and the smile he wore was one of utmost joy. It suited him impossibly well and Nile was shocked to see the difference between his formerly displayed smiles opposed to this one. He hadn’t made a sound up until that point, as silent laughter had taken over his bodily functions. This changed though when Andy pulled at one of his elbows to get more vulnerable space to her attack.

„NONONONO!!“ Booker shrieked, in the husky voice of a man who didn’t usually laugh that outgoingly. His deep giggles had a desperate ring to them, an out-of-breath undertone that was absolutely contagious and forced Nile to grin at the chaotic pair.

Joe and Nicky were looking at them with similar looks on their faces. It seemed very affectionate. Obviously it wasn’t the first time that this situation occurred.

„STOP STOP STOP!! NOHO PLEASE AHAHNDY!!“ Booker started kicking a bit too violently, meeting the table with his shoe and making it shake vibrantly, leading to Nile’s drink falling over.

„See, that is a weakness, Booker,“ Andy stated as she reduced the mysterious man to a snorting, giggling, wheezing mess in his chair with skillful fingertips and a steady knowledge of his most ticklish areas.

Nile couldn’t stop grinning, as Nicky and Joe made it their job to save the rest of the food and drinks on the table by placing them on a table further to the back. This only seemed to make the new option of tilting Booker’s chair available to Andy and in no time they were rolling onto the floor, with Booker eagerly trying to rob away on his back and Andy very eager to keep him from doing just that. Booker’s laughter was getting a hysterical notion to it when Andy came close to him again, threatening him with more vicious, unbearable tickles which really seemed to be his number one weakness from what Nile could tell.

„Wait wait wait wait WAIT!!“ Booker barked out as he extended his hands in front of his body in order to defend himself against Andromache the Scythian. A very adorable tactic really. And one Andy herself wasn’t necessarily impressed with. With a big smile she quickly latched on to Booker’s sides again, despite his struggle to keep her away.

And Booker was an instant mess. Andy’s thumbs wiggled into his hips, making Booker’s entire body buck up and shake with the unbearable feeling this attack sent through his nerve ends all the way up to his brains. He was wheezing with laughter and couldn’t get away from Andy’s tickling fingers working their way up his stomach and ribs as if his defenses were a joke to her. „THIS ISN’T FAHAIR!!“ The poor man squealed as his cheeks started to blush from the effort of laughing this incessantly.

„No, it isn’t,“ Andy agreed with fake sympathy before she started wiggling her fingers into a spot below Booker’s armpits that made his laughter kick up a notch, „but it’s fun.“

Nile watched with amusement as Booker was reduced to a giggling pile on the floor and Andy was having the time of her life turning him into it. They both seemed to be rather comfortable in their position. Even Booker didn’t exactly fight for his life to get out of the tickle hell Andy was putting him through. When Andy’s fingertips were scribbling up Booker’s chest, nearing his neck, he started fighting a bit more, giggling a pitch higher than before and actually starting to beg. „NONONO PLEASE NO, I GIVE UP, I GIHIVE UP!! AHAHANDY STOP IT!!“

„Oh, alright, alright, I’m stopping, I am.“ Andy quit her ticklish attack with a sombre smile on her lips, moving her hands away and holding them up innocently. Booker was wheezing on the floor, folding his arms over his chest and shaking his head at his boss, as little giggles kept pouring out of him.

„No more,“ he huffed, a smile on his face, as Andy started laughing at him, seemingly enchanted by his defeated, weak little self. „No more, Andy.“

„I think Nile got an answer to her question.“ Andy calmed him down and affectionately rubbed his arms which he did react to by relaxing more. With an imploring, cheeky look she fixed his eyes and added: „I think she also understood that you don’t exactly mind this little weakness of yours.“

„What!!“ Andy grinned at Nile as she got off of Booker.

„Your other questions might just have to wait until tomorrow.“ She said and winked at her, before walking over to where Nicky and Joe had retreated in the big room.

„Are you implying that I like this?“ Booker turned on his stomach and yelled after her, trying to grab for Andy’s heels, but failing. With a loud sigh he allowed himself to roll over on his back again. He looked at Nile out of the corner of his eye. „I do not like this. Not at all.“

Nile nodded completely convinced and felt a wave of affection flood her stomach when Booker closed his eyes and started snoring. In that very moment he didn’t seem suspicious in the least. She took this as her cue to join the others at the east side of their room as well. Of their shared room.

Ours.

The word didn’t sound that threatening anymore all of a sudden.

[animecinnamonroll99]

Yes 🥺🥺 Octane pls ❤️❤️

Here’s your Octane smut. Hope that it’s to your liking!

Translations:

Lo siento: I’m sorry

bebe: baby

Te amo: I love you

Mi amor: My love

Papi- dad/daddy

Princesa: princess

Tu eres perfecta: you are perfect

Conejo: bunny

Por favor: please

Carino: honey

Mierda: shit

Humedad: wet (In a moist stand point)

Mas: More

Necesito: need

Polla: cock

chica: girl

Yo necesito tu polla, papi: I need your cock, daddy

Mierda tu eres muy humedad: Shit you are very(so) wet

Getting a text during a random time of day or night wasn’t unusual since I started dating Octavio Silva. He wasn’t too big on the idea of dating until he realized that he enjoyed being with me and not having to find a girl every so often to go to his family’s galas or the legends parties and meet and greets with. Opening my phone I see his message light up the screen.

Mi Conejo: Oi, chica, I need you to come over, we need to talk about something. Come on over asap. 

Not taking another moment to reply back, I get off the floor where I was stretching and throw on a pair of flip flops. Checking the weather real quick I notice that it’s gonna be another wonderful day with the temperature already in the seventies. After locking the door I start walking to Tavi’s apartment. 

I pat down my leggings feeling in the pockets until I found the key to his apartment. Unlocking the door, I noticed that all the lights were off. “Tavi? Is everything ok?” I step further in and flick on the light. There’s no sign of him in the main space. “Tav?” I call out again. Walking further in after shutting the door. I walk over to the door that leads to his bedroom. It’s strange that he had shut it. I think to myself before pushing it open. My cheeks start to warm up at the sight in front of me.

Tavi was wearing only a pair of green boxers and water was dripping down his body. His head was covered by a towel as he dried his hair. I couldn’t take my eyes off of his back wishing to drag my fingers along the path the droplets left. I was so engrossed by my daydream that I didn’t realize that he had turned to face me, or that he was walking closer. “Lo siento bebe, I thought that I had more time until you arrived.”

His accent tore me from my thoughts and my blush worsened as he wiped some drool off my chin. “What were you thinking about chica?” the slight laugh in his voice as he leads me to his bed tipped off that he was just messing with me. 

Lowering ourselves onto his bed I decided it was probably best to get this talk over with. “So what did you need to tell me Tavi?” Watching the way his face changed had me worried. The happiness slowly gave way to a more serious look, a look that I knew meant that I had his undivided attention. “We’ve been dating for two years, right?” he inquired and I nodded back knowing that he didn’t want an answer. “You have a key to my place and I yours. Why not just move in with me. Look I know you’re a virgin and you want to take things slowly and I’ve been trying my best-” I throw myself forward and cut him off with a kiss.

As his lips started to move against mine, I muttered a yes between each kiss that was given. His lips met mine again in a fiery passion once my answer settled in his brain. His hands grabbed my hips tightly pulling my body against his. He let me settle myself on his lap as my hands moved up his chest with a mind of their own, one stopping to grip bicep while the other moved to the back of his neck. He licks my lips begging for entrance. I gently bite his tongue forcing it back into his mouth before shutting mine again. Giving a soft growl; he pressed into the kiss more, not only intensifying it but also making me more aware of how his rough stubble felt against my soft sensitive skin. 

He slides his hands down over my ass, giving it a quick squeeze, along the back of my thighs to my knees pulling me to straddle his hips and deepening the kiss further. I moan softly as he presses my back into the melding our bodies closer together. He gently forces his tongue past my parted teeth. 

His tongue starts sliding and mapping out my mouth until mine touches his. Then a battle for dominance begins. Within moments he has my tongue pinned under his claiming victory. He leaves my mouth soon after. Leaving me to pant for breath as he smirks down at me. With a soft squeeze of his hands against my thighs, he finally began to move. His lips feathered against my lips as his grip on me tightened. Painfully slow his lips moved across my cheek to my jaw then down to my neck, where his tongue decided to slip out and play with the skin trying to find my sweet spot. I tilt my head back to give him more access. After searching for a bit, he finally found it and I let out a deep moan of pleasure. I felt his smirk against my skin for a second before he started licking, sucking and biting the spot leaving a huge hickey there. I curse at him knowing that it’ll be hard to hide it at tomorrow’s game. As Tavi pulled away from my neck I saw the satisfied smirk on his face. He nuzzled into the mark he made while grinding his hips against mine. I gave a short moan before nipping his ear lobe roughly. In retaliation his hands gripped the edge of my shirt and ripped it off me. 

I gasped at the loss of the tank top the game masters had given to all of us and before I could complain Tavi gave me a soft kiss and muttered a soft “Te amo, mi amor” before nuzzling his face between my tits. He groaned as he felt the fabric of my bra on his chin. Nipping at the sides of my breast had me arching my back for him to remove my bra. “Princesa.” I looked up at him when he used the pet name. It wasn’t just any pet name, it was the one reserved for letting me know that he wanted more, more than just making out and I knew the best way to answer him. 

“Papi por favor.” no sooner the words left my mouth did he continue his assault on my body. His lips worked their way along my breast until it reached my nipple. The contrast of the heat his mouth gave off and the coolness that had settled on my skin had me moaning out for more. 

He lavished the right breast in attention with his mouth until he was satisfied before moving over to my left and muttering “Tu eres perfecta.” across the skin. From the little bit of his native language I knew, I could understand that it was a compliment and was meant to relax me and make me feel better about what was happening. 

After giving the left breast the same amount of treatment, he started moving down leaving marks along my stomach until he reached the hem of my leggings. Looking up at me through his lashes, I could see the question in his green eyes. By way of an answer I lifted my hips up to make it easier to remove them and he took the opportunity to take them off with my panties. I pressed my thighs together once my legs were freed from the fabric. 

He tossed the items away from us without a care as to where they went and gripped my thighs in his hands. Pulling my legs apart he pressed his hips forward to fill the gap and once he was settled between my thighs his hands moved to roam my body. “Don’t be so shy carino. I love all of you.” as he talked to me my body relaxed and he moved back slightly so that he could move a hand between. The rough pad of his index finger on my clit had me crying out his name before he stopped the ministrations. “Call me papi por favor pirincesa.” I whimpered out a yes, I would do anything to feel that good. He picked up the movement and kept an eye on me.

Swapping out his index for his thumb, he moved the finger that had previously been giving me pleasure down to my entrance. He slowly moved the digit around my entrance collecting the moisture to use as lube. “Mierda tu eres muy humedad.” he murmured against my ear. The dirty sounding Spanish caused me to clench around his finger as he tried to add a second one. He continued to slowly work me open as he whispered more dirty things in Spanish to me. 

“Papi mas.” at my words he slipped his fingers out of me and laughed when I winded at not getting pleasured. “What do you need princesa? You have to use your words and you have to tell me in Spanish or else you won’t get it.” He made it sound easier than it was. I wracked my brain trying to think of what I needed to say and all the while he rubbed his cock against my slick folds. “Yo necesito tu polla, papi.” he lined his tip up with my entrance again collecting my wetness as lube. “How bad?” he questioned me again. “Muy.” 

With the confirmation he slowly started to slide his thick dick into me. “Tell me if it hurts bebe.” he managed to grit out between his teeth. Going this slow must really be bothering him. I think to myself as he bottoms out. His body vibrates with his effort to stay still and to let me adjust to his size. “Move Tavi, please I need you.” I grip his shoulder blades as he slowly moved himself back and out of me, only to thrust back in just as slowly. There was no pain on this thrust and I whined at him to move faster. Moving faster he did, he went from sweet and gentle to moving like he was running away from Bloodhound in the arena. I scratched down his back moaning as my head tilted back. He groaned and bit my neck in retaliation. “God chica, you feel sooo good gripping my cock like that.” I whimpered at the praise and the smirk on my neck showed me that he knew what he was doing to me. Another praise left his lips right before he pulled me into a sloppy kiss. His grip on my hips was going to be enough to leave bruises in the morning, but I didn’t care. “I-I-I’m cl-clo-close” I squeak out between loud moans of his name and the nickname he wanted to be called. My body started to push up against his, my hands pulling him closer while scratching down his back. He slipped a hand between and pushed his thumb against my clit to roughly rub it. The pressure that had been building let go and I screamed his name as my vision went white. I almost didn’t feel the steady pulsing as he finished inside me because of how tightly my vagina was gripping him. 

As we came down from our highs Tavi slowly pulled out of me and walked off to his connecting bathroom and turned on the water. He comes out, picks me up and carries me off to the bath. He leaves me be after grabbing a washcloth to clean himself with and comes back to me after a little while. He helps me out of the bath and dries me off before carrying me out to the bed and laying me down. I notice that the sheets are warm and a different color then what they were when I got here. We stay naked as he climbs into the bed next to me and I cuddle into his side. “Good night Tavi.” I whisper before falling asleep.

[ask-beacons-finest]

Tarra, nervously speaking up, standing in a moonlit hall of the Schnee manor: I-I don't think we should be out by ourselves...

Basil, spinning around, in tandem with Clove: Shhh!

Basil: You're gonna get us caught!

Clove: We're just exploring. Don't be a wuss!

Basil, poiting over to a large and ornately carved wooden door: Ooooo! Lookit that! I wonder what's behind there!

Clove, excitedly: Maybe treasure!

Basil, slinking down, crawling towards it: Maybe food...

Tarra, glancing around anxiously, her hands fiddling with eachother: Mmmm...definitely trouble.

Clove, grabbing onto Tarra's wrist, dragging her along: C'mon! Let's go look!

Basil, standing at the door, checking the handle to see it's locked: Hrmmm...

Clove, catching up to him with Tarra in tow: What's wrong?

Basil, holding up a hand, a claw on his pointer finger extending as he sticks it into the keyhole: It's locked...

Clove, amazed: Ahhh!!! Where'd you learn how to do that!?

Basil, his tongue stuck out in concentration: Remember when were locked out of the house? Mom did this and it worked. I watched her, I think I can do it.

Tarra, bouncing a bit back and forth, whining: We're gonna get in so much trouble...

Basil, just pointlessly jangling his claw in the keyhole, perking upright in surprise at the sound of a click: Wha-? Oh!!! Oh it worked! I can't believe it worked!

Clove, with a big grin, her tail lashing back and forth in excitement: Amazing!!! Not bad little brother.

Basil, reaching for the handle, defensively spitting at Clove: You're only a few seconds ol-!

Basil, turning to stare at the handle as it turns, the door opening to reveal a young woman in a maid uniform staring down at the children: ...uh oh.

Clove, through gritted teeth: Busted...

Tarra, already with tears in her eyes, her voice a squeaky mess: We're in so much trouble.

Pollination!Maid, standing in the dark doorway in complete silence, staring down at the children: ...

Pollination!Maid: Why are there three pairs of eyes staring at me from the void...

Pollination!Maid, reaching over and flipping a lightswitch in the room, then taking a deep sigh of relief: Oh, thank the gods...they're just children.

Clove, glancing from Basil to Tarra, then back up to the maid: Who're you?

Pollination!Maid, bows her head in greeting, speaking with a smile: Hello, my name is Marion Rivers, I've been employed by the Schnee Manor for the past two years. You all must be the young triplets of Lady Weiss?

Basil, being the first to speak up after a second: ...what?

Marion, with a small chuckle: I'm a maid, I work here.

Clove, nearly shouting: MUTTER HAS MAIDS!?

Basil, excitedly pointing into the room: What's in there!?

Tarra, still in tears, through sniffles: Are w-we in trouble?

Marion, clearing her throat, answering them in turn: Technically we're employed by the estate, not your Mutter specifically. It's the Manor's study, the Master Lady of the House's, actually. And that is unfortunately not my decision little one, that belongs to your mothers and only them.

Basil, his eyes lighting up: Can we go in there!! We're not allowed to go into the study at home, can we go in this one!

Marion, awkwardly slipping out and closing the door after shutting the light back off, locking the door with a key: I umm...I think it would be best if you didn't, young Master Basil. I think it would be best if you all hurried back to your rooms, it's very late.

Tarra, quietly: I agree...

Clove: But I wanna explore!

Basil: And I'm hungry!

Marion, thinking for a moment, then sighs: Very well, it's better that you'd all be chaperoned at the very least. Please, follow me.

~~~~~

Basil, sitting up on a counter in the large kitchen of the manor, eating a sandwich: Oooooh! This is really really good!

Marion, with a smile, spreading peanut butter on another piece of bread while Clove waits patiently: I'm glad you enjoy it, young Master Basil, everything is homemade.

Clove, in awe: Even the peanut butter?

Marion, nodding: Yes, everything. Bread, jam, peanut butter. All of it. How are you enjoying yours young Lady Tarra?

Tarra, quietly sitting on the counter next to Basil, nibbling on the sandwich: It's...tasty. I really like it.

Marion, her face brightening up: That's wonderful to hear.

Clove, happily taking her sandwich and hopping up onto the counter next to Basil, as Marion steps back and leans against another counter in front of them: Thank you Miss Marion!

Marion, with a smile: No need to thank me, young Lady Clove, I'm only sorry that your first meals in Atlas are so simple.

Basil, already nearly done with his sandwich: Are you kidding!? This is so good I want it for breakfast!

Marion, laughing: Well, I'm sure that can be arranged for you! I'll even be more than happy to make them myself.

Tarra, still quiet, looking down at her sandwich, mumbling: I like your hair...

Marion, tilting her head: Hmm? What was that?

Tarra, speaking up a little louder: I like your hair...it's pretty.

Marion, paused for a moment, then smiles and lets out a small laugh, taking her long brown ponytail over her shoulder and strokes it: Ah, thank you so so much. That's very sweet of you. I've thought about cutting it, but my little one loves it so much I couldnt stand to. She reminds me of you too, Tarra, I think it's the cute little ears.

Clove, curious as Tarra turns into a flustered mess and covers her ears: You're a mom?

Marion, shaking her head, a bit embarrassed: Ah! No no no. Well...I suppose sort of? I have a little sister, sort of...I took her in a few years ago, the poor child was without a home and family and I...well, I know how that feels. She's the reason I got this job here in the Manor, it pays well enough to take care of us both. She's probably only slightly older than you all.

Basil, with a last big bite of sandwich in his mouth: Sounds like a mom to me.

Marion: Hmph...yeah, I suppose it does. But! It's truly getting late, please, let me bring you all back to your rooms.

Clove, still eating: But our sandwiches!

Marion: You can bring them with you.

Basil: But I want another!

Marion, sighing, though still with a gentle smile on her face: I will make you each one more. One more. Then it's bed time.

Basil: Yes!

Clove: Deal!

Tarra, nodding: ...

[seyaryminamoto]

Matching Heartbeats: Sokkla Saturdays 2020

Day 2:  “As if that would happen“

On FF.net//On AO3

The discomfort had been bad enough long before it started to be accompanied by pain: Azula gritted her teeth, bearing with the unpleasant, involuntary shudders of her lower body while clinging tightly to the firm, calloused hand that held hers.

"It's… a bad one. Damn it…" Azula gasped, shutting her eyes tightly.

"Breathe, love. Just breathe through it, like you did with the last one… you're my hero, you know? Putting up with all this…"

"For the second time… if I may add?" Azula hissed, wincing at one more painful shudder before whatever had clenched up inside her body loosened up at last: the pain receded gradually, and she sighed as she sank into the pillows, breathing heavily while still gripping that same hand as hard as she had needed to.

So far, he hadn't complained about the pain a single time. It would be strange to Azula, for Sokka often complained about any form of pain anyone inflicted upon him… but watching her writhing as each contraction took hold of her body appeared to hurt him far more than a few paling fingers could.

"S-sorry…" she said, regardless, releasing his hand despite he didn't make any moves to suggest he needed her to let go.

"And why are you apologizing, exactly?" Sokka smiled, reaching up to stroke her disorderly hair gently. "What you're going through… I'm pretty sure what you're doing to my hand can't even be a fragment of what you're enduring."

"Heh… must be I've been weakened by the contractions, then," she mumbled. Sokka chuckled and shook his head. "Here I thought I was exerting all my strength in holding your hand, but it turns out it's not even a fragment of what I'm going through…?"

Sokka rolled his eyes, prompting Azula to chuckle. She had meant to tease him: it was more than a bit unnerving to see him so serious and tense, even if she knew the situation warranted it. Messing with him, however lightly as it might be, would ease her heart far more effectively at this stage than anything else she could think of.

Naturally, Sokka retaliated against her words by showing her his right hand: indeed, the area Azula had gripped the tightest was paler than the rest of his hand and arm, and she bit her lip somewhat guiltily as Sokka leaned closer to her, still holding up his hand between them.

"I'm seriously expecting my hand to fall off at this rate, Azula. And yes, it hurts like hell, and I'm willing to lose it if that's what I have to do for you. But, besides that? I'm damn sure what you're going through is a thousand times more painful than losing a hand would be. So yeah, I know you love playing around with my words, but you know exactly what I was trying to say, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Azula smiled, closing her eyes as she tried to relax – as much as someone with a nine-month-old baby bump could relax. "But I like teasing you far too much. Plus… I have no idea if my grip is really that strong right now, Sokka. When the contractions hit that hard, it's not easy to focus on anything else… so I figured, despite I knew what you meant, that maybe I am a little weaker anyway."

"Heh, you? Weak? As if that would ever happen," Sokka smiled, reaching up to stroke her hair. "You're my hero, you know. I say it all the time, but still… you've put up with every challenge life has thrown at you and you've come out on top every time…"

"Eh? Not quite sure of that," Azula grimaced. "Sometimes I didn't wind up in the best of shapes, as you well know…"

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure you're the only person who's stared Death in the face as many times as you have and told him: 'You know what? Try a little harder next time', so…"

Azula couldn't hold back a chortle before a spring of laughter burst from her lips. Sokka smiled, watching her laugh at first before joining her with a few soft laughs of his own. His hand, weakened as it was, reached for hers all the same. Her fingers, so desperate, urgent and violent before, now smoothly caressed the back of his hand, and Sokka wasn't sure whether she sought comfort in their touch, or if she meant to reassure him instead.

"That's a lie, and you know it," Azula finally said. Sokka huffed, eyeing her skeptically.

"No, it's not," he declared, proudly.

"If I'd truly stared Death in the face, no matter how many times I allegedly did, and said such words to it? I'd likely have been inspired by your example in doing so," Azula smiled. "So… the lie isn't really that I wouldn't do that to Death, it's that I'm hardly the only person who does that."

"Eh… fine, then. If you insist, but my point still stands: you're strong as hell, no matter what you say," Sokka said, smiling warmly as his free hand stroked her hair once more. Upon finding a few droplets of sweat on her forehead, Sokka reached quickly for a small towel they had kept on the bed's nightstand, for the very purpose of drying Azula's brow whenever she needed it.

He dipped the towel in the basin, half-filled with cool water. Where Azula normally recoiled from cold things, she sighed in bliss at the touch of that fabric against her heating forehead. Sokka smiled warmly at her, as Azula released a deep breath, nestling as comfortably as possible in the mattress. Her thumb brushed his hand, and as gentle and sweet as the touch of the towel might be, Azula's brow was furrowed once he pulled it away.

"Another one?" Sokka asked. Azula shook her head lightly.

"Just… I guess it's dumb to worry about this now, isn't it?" she mumbled. "We're at the final stretch of the race, after all. But I can't help but wonder if… if we're truly ready for this. We've managed so far, with just one child, but do you really think we can handle ourselves, our responsibilities, while also raising two kids? I mean, there's no choice but to do it, but…"

"But you're worried," Sokka said. Azula swallowed hard and nodded. "Well… it's only natural to worry, I'd think. I'm not sure anyone can feel wholly confident about their ability to raise a little tyke all the way from being a toddler to adulthood, you know? I'd be surprised if anyone was that sure of themselves…"

"I'm just afraid of… of making the same mistakes they did," Azula whispered. "My parents…"

"Oh, well, now that's not something you should worry about," Sokka said, with a heartfelt smile. "You've already proven you're a thousand times the parent either of them could hope to be…"

"With one kid? Yes. Can it be the same with two?" Azula mumbled. "I mean, I'll try my best, but… that's where a lot of families seem to fuck up. Mine did, for sure. I know yours didn't, but still…"

"You're definitely underestimating just how good a mother you are," Sokka answered. "I'm pretty sure you'll never mess up the way they did. But, if you really need it… I guess I'll try to reassure you by promising that, if I ever think you're taking after either of them, I'll stage a full-blown intervention."

"Ah? That sounds dangerous," Azula smiled. Sokka nodded pompously.

"I'll lock us up in our room, and after I work out all your frustrations in the best possible way…"

"Oh no, please don't say that. Now I'll start wanting to be a bad mother just so you can do that…"

Sokka snorted and laughed halfway through his explanations. Azula smirked at him and he shook his head, forcing himself to focus anew.

"And after that's done, we'll talk things through and we'll figure out what we're doing wrong so we can start doing it right once we leave the room. See? Easy-peasy," he said, grinning. Azula sighed and smiled warmly at him.

"I really don't think it'd be that easy, but sometimes you believe in me so wholeheartedly that I can't help but trust you completely. It's terrible," she said, prompting him to laugh anew.

"I think your instincts trust my instincts, and that's what makes this marriage work perfectly," he decided, leaning close to press a kiss to her brow. "We'll do right by our new kid, Azula. We won't let anything go wrong. The Royal Family is revitalized, changed, renewed as it is… all the bad blood, the nasty stuff that plagued you as a kid, is long gone now. You'll be okay, and our little ones will be too. I'm sure of it."

"I wonder if anyone in this whole world has ever had as much faith in someone as you do in me…" Azula smiled affectionately, cupping his cheek. "I hope I'll never give you reason to stop believing in me…"

"Heh. As if that could ever happen," Sokka said, again, and Azula chuckled, shaking her head.

"Is that how you'll answer everything I say now?" she asked. Sokka failed to bite back a grin. "How about if I say I'm afraid you might not find me appealing anymore after my body's many changes, now that I've gone through two pregnancies?"

"Ha! That one deserves it more than the previous things you've said: as if I could ever, EVER, find you any less appealing, Azula," Sokka hissed, kissing her lips quickly as she laughed.

"I suppose, if you'd kiss me when I look like this, it must be true…" she mused. "I must look like a wreck, lying here as I am…"

"You're even more beautiful today than ever before, no matter how many pregnancies you've been through, or how many years have gone by…"

"How much weight I've put on? Granted, it's also because I was pregnant, but…"

"Didn't I tell you enough times that that's no reason to love you any less?" Sokka smiled. Azula bit her lip but grinned too.

"Fine, then. I'll stop testing you. You've become too skilled at fielding my verbal attacks…"

"It was about time I did, wasn't it?" Sokka laughed, stroking her hair. "We've been together forever now. If I couldn't hold my own in our arguments you'd likely have grown bored of me by now."

"Eh. Probably," Azula acknowledged, smirking mischievously as Sokka chuckled and pressed his brow to hers.

"I love you more every day that goes by," he whispered. "And moments like these only make me love you even more than I already did before."

"I sure hope so…" Azula said, and the edge of her smile waned as it softened into a gentle grin. "Because, loving you any less? As if that could ever happen."

"Ah? Are we really going to play that game with each other now?" Sokka chuckled. Azula grinned and shrugged innocently. "Well, then…!"

He didn't have a chance to tease Azula with that phrase again, for the sound of the opening door of Azula's assigned room cut off Sokka's words. He glanced back, and his lighthearted mood shifted once his blue eyes met his sister's own.

"Okay… our half hour's up. Did you have more contractions?" Katara asked, glancing at Azula, who nodded almost shyly.

"There was one just a moment ago. It was… intense," Azula said, unwilling to acknowledge how painful it had been. Projecting strength was a wasted ordeal, she knew, especially when Katara was going to witness the birth of her second child in a matter of hours, or less than that, and no moment in a mother's life could be as vulnerable as that… but it wasn't easy to break old habits nonetheless.

"Then I guess this is probably it," Katara sighed, biting her lip as she glanced at her brother. "Sokka…?"

"Y-you sure I can't stay?" he asked, eyeing Katara desperately now. "I… I'll be good. I promise I won't cause trouble, I just want to help…"

"Oh, Sokka…" Katara sighed, stepping closer to her pouting brother, who slouched in his chair, right beside Azula, for he knew his sister's voice tone could only herald a negative answer to his request. "You've seen a lot of stuff, I'll give you that… but I don't think you, of all people, can watch your wife go through excruciating pain without losing your mind. So… no. You really can't stay."

"I could try…" Sokka whimpered, though Azula laughed beside him.

"It might be good if you leave. You really might be so disgusted by birthing you'll choose not to sleep with me ever again…"

"Okay, now that's even worse than the last one! As if that could ever happen, Azula!"

"Uh, I'm still here, remember? I absolutely don't need to hear you two talk about your sex life, thank you very much," Katara said, with a disgusted twitch of her eyebrow. Azula couldn't help but laugh at her sister-in-law's expression, and Sokka huffed while rolling his eyes at Katara.

"Right, because Azula's about to give birth to our second kid because a spirit somehow induced pregnancy miraculously in her!" Sokka said, smirking sarcastically.

"Eh, if anything the most fun part of pregnancy is the means through which you get knocked up, it's true…" Azula smiled, and Sokka snickered in her direction as Katara shuddered, making exaggerated gagging noises.

She made her way to the nearest window, feigning to puke through it while Sokka and Azula laughed at her dramatic acting. Still, as amusing as Katara's reaction was, they both knew she was only helping them stall, letting them have just another short moment together, if nothing else.

"Well… sounds like I can't convince her, or you, after all. But hey, I'll be standing right outside the door. I'll be so close it'll be as if I'm in here anyway," Sokka declared, pouting a little. Azula laughed and nodded, clasping his hand in hers again.

"Then you'll be within range to hear me scream like a dying ostrich horse once the worst of it begins. Sweet," she said, raising her eyebrows in his direction. Sokka snorted at the comparison she had drawn, shaking his head and kissing her brow.

"Want me to scream right back from the hallway? That way you sure won't feel lonely, not even for a second," he suggested. Despite her nervousness should have been ramping up, Azula couldn't help but laugh, clutching at Sokka with a hand, hoping to keep him close for as long as possible.

"I'm sure everyone will think we're mad… eh, I guess they already think that, actually. And they might be right, since this sounds like a brilliant idea to me. Please, do it," Azula grinned, as Sokka chuckled and pressed many kisses to her face.

"Perfect," he said, just in time for Katara to huff in disbelief.

"Don't you two think birthing is a delicate enough situation to add wild hollering across a door to the mix?" she asked. Sokka bit his lip, deferring to Azula… who offered a simple enough answer to Katara:

"Nah, I think it'll fit just right, if anything," she decided. Despite herself, Katara couldn't help but laugh as Sokka grinned warmly at his wife.

"Take as long as you need to. We'll be patient out there," he said, prodding her nose with his own.

"The next time we see each other… our family will be bigger by one member," Azula smiled, just as sweetly. A blissful laugh left his lips, and his eyes glistened beautifully. Azula couldn't help but wish their next child would have eyes just like his…

"That's right," he said, beaming before reaching to caress Azula's large baby bump. "We'll meet you very soon, buddy. Hold on tight… and please go easy on your mommy, alright? She's done her best to give birth to you safely, so don't give her a lot of trouble, 'kay?"

Azula's eyes were tearful as Sokka leaned close, pressing a kiss to her bump. He had done it often throughout the pregnancy, chatting excitedly to their baby, most often singing praises about Azula that she'd only be able to silence by kissing him fiercely and busying his mouth with something other than talking. He had looked forward to meeting their child for as long as he'd known she was expecting it… and she couldn't wait to see the look on his face, once he entered the room again, to find her holding their newborn baby.

Sokka smiled at her, still caressing her womb before bringing their lips together, offering her his courage, his strength, all the willpower and certainty she had feared she'd lack in such a momentous occasion. It would be hard, she knew, but her heart was set on seeing this through to the end. Birthing was difficult enough, she knew as much by experience… but the other side of it, the joy of holding her own child, could chase away the pain far faster than any medicine or waterbending healing could.

"I love you, Azula," he whispered, once he pulled away from their kiss. "I don't want to leave… but I'll be back as soon as my mean sister allows it. I promise."

"Make sure you get a snack… and go to the bathroom right after you leave now," Azula suggested, and Sokka raised an eyebrow, amused. "It'd suck if… if, by the time this is done, you were halfway through one of your famous potty breaks…"

"Uh, yeah, fair enough, I'll take one of those now," Sokka said, grimacing as Azula laughed. "Take it easy, as much as you can anyway, and breathe just as they told you to. Though, heh, you know how this works better than I do anyway, so I guess my advice is pointless…"

"You just want me to suffer as little as possible, I know," Azula smiled. "It's fine, Sokka. I love you too. By the time the baby's coming I might hate you a little, though, for putting me through this… but by the end I'll be grateful. I promise."

"I sure hope so," Sokka chuckled, kissing her lips once more. "Whatever would I do if my wife and the mother of my children hated me, huh?"

"Oh, please… like that could ever truly happen," Azula teased him. Sokka laughed, and tears blinked in both their eyes as he pressed one more kiss to her lips.

It seemed there could never be enough kisses, enough reassurances that he was here with her, that she would overcome this challenge, like she did… but as Katara guided him to the door – just as her other helpers arrived, too – Sokka's gaze held Azula's own. The truth was that no door, no walls, would ever come between them: their hearts were closely bonded, beating as one, flooding Azula's system with her well-known certainty that no matter the distance, no matter the struggles they faced, Sokka was always with her. She hadn't been alone for years now… and as those gentle blue eyes still gazed upon hers, just before the door closed behind him, Azula knew she never would be. Not as long as the best man she had ever known stood right outside her room, waiting eagerly to return to her side.

[straycat-writes]

kintsukuroi // 金繕い (levi ackerman)

kintsukuroi // 金繕い (japanese, n.) - “to repair with gold”; the art of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken

requested by: anonymous

notes: this is a mess, but my god I enjoyed writing it so much

Tomorrow is the day. The Day of Judgement, when the Survey Corps is going to lay siege on the monstrosity waiting just inside of Shiganshina. The Beast Titan.

I wonder how many people we’ll end up losing this time.

You gritted your teeth. Just thinking about him – it – makes you sick. Too many of your friends had lost their lives at its hands. So, no matter the cost, you were going to make it pay.

However, at the moment, that wasn’t your biggest priority. It was just about midnight, and you noticed the bright full moon shining in the sky as you made your way up to the terrace of the Survey Corps barracks. There was someone else who really shouldn’t be left alone right now.

Levi was standing at the edge, leaning slightly forward, elbows propped on the railings.

“Would it be useless to ask you to come to bed now?”

I’m worried about you.

“Probably.” he replied without turning around.

Don’t be.

You sighed as you went to stand beside him. He was looking out at the still midnight scenery. There was no one out on the grounds at this time of the night, and Levi thought it looked equal parts serene and desolate, bathed in the moonlight.

While he was busy staring at nothing in particular, his thoughts a million miles away, you were looking at him. For once, he didn’t look as put together as he usually did. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, the top few buttons open, and the cravat missing.

You put a gentle hand on his shoulder, “We’re going to do this, Levi. We’re going to succeed.”

“You think so?” His voice was devoid of any intonation as he glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

You nodded, heartbeat quickening suddenly for some reason, “We have to. We don’t have a choice.”

The sheer determination in your voice sparked some degree of surprise in his eyes, and he gave a momentary curious glance before averting his eyes again.

“We have to succeed.” You added quietly, “If not for ourselves, then for our fallen friends.”

For a moment, a haunting, nihilistic thought crossed your mind, about how none of it mattered, that even if you did manage to take down the Beast titan, your friends would still be what they are: dead. Your eyes widened and you quickly shook your head, trying to squash the thought before it could proceed any further.

Levi frowned, seeming to notice the change in your demeanor. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” You say, almost automatically. “I just wish you’d get some sleep tonight.”

He scoffed, “Ridiculous.”

“I thought you’d say something like that.” You smile, trying to lighten the mood, but you couldn’t even make the smile reach your eyes.

How could you? Tomorrow could very well be your last day on earth, or worse, his last day. Your heart twisted violently in your chest and you squeezed your eyes shut. You didn’t want to think about this, about any of it, about anything at all.

Levi raised a thin eyebrow, before finally turning fully towards you, “Alright, spit it out. You’ve been acting really weird, and I want to know just what the hell you’re thinking about it.”

You swallowed hard, but then sighed, looking up at him with a defeated expression on your face, “The same bullshit you’re thinking about.”

He looked surprised for a moment, before his face returned to its usual deadpan expression, “Is that so?...I see.”

Neither of you spoke for a while after that. There was a chill in the night wind, and you felt like it could touch you right to your very bones. Still, it was nothing compared to the ice in your heart.

“…(Y/n)”

“Hm?”

“Are we bad people?” He asked, so suddenly that you’re taken aback. You frown, looking at him with confusion.

“What do you mean?”

He scoffs a little, “I don’t know. I just think sometimes that we must have done something terrible in our past lives, to end up in this hellish nightmare.”

“You’re wrong.”

The words came so suddenly that even you were taken aback yourself. Your voice was firm, and so determined that he couldn’t help but listen.

“You’re wrong.” You repeated, gentler this time, “We’re not terrible people, Levi. We’re just…people, who were thrust into this nightmare without being consulted, and yes, it is unfair, it is terrifying. But we have to face it. We have to be brave and survive, because that’s the only right anyone is ever born with.”

“None of us are perfect, not by a long shot.” You gave a dry laugh, “We’re cracked, damaged, sometimes downright broken. The cracks show sometimes, and that’s alright. We’re allowed to let them show, allowed to scream and cry. What we’re not allowed to do is give up. There are so many people inside the walls, who are counting on us to keep them alive, Levi. We can’t let them down.”

“The people inside the walls…” he mumbled, for once sounding unsure of himself, “They’re the only reason we can’t give up?

You frowned, “Well…no. Of course not. We can’t give up because there are still so many of our friends who are alive, and they deserve to stay that way. Erwin, Hanji, the rest of the Survey Corps, that trio of brats from Shiganshina…all of them. And…us.”

“Us?”

You remained quiet for a while, aware of his burning gaze on you but reusing to return it. Then you inhaled shakily, before finally giving him a soft smile, “We’re good people, Levi. We deserve a happy ending too. A soft epilogue…”

Something in your lover’s silvery eyes softened, and he gave you a long look, filled with adoration, love, and something else, more tender than either. Then he lightly put one hand on one side of your head, pulling you forward and placing a light kiss on your forehead. He encircled you in a tight, welcome embrace, and you found yourself being able to feel the steady beat of his heart. It relieved you, for some reason. His arms around you were the only thing that even remotely eased the ice inside of you,

You loved, more than your own life. So, it didn’t matter if you didn’t believe half the words you had just said to him. At the end of the day, humanity’s strongest soldier was still just as human as anybody else, and you just told him what he needed to hear. You loved him, so much more than your own life.

So, it didn’t matter if you lied a little.

[autisticfangpyreclub]

Gold stained hands, red stained teeth - chapter 1

I finally managed to start writing the vampire au i posted literally a year ago, quarantine does that to ya. Enjoy!

(@kyra-plays sorry it took so long for me to start writing this fic!)

-

“We’re here!”

Kai grunted as he was shaken awake by the car jostling to a halt. He sluggishly sat up in his seat and looked out the window. They were parked in front of a huge iron gate, overgrown with vines and moss. “This is the place?” he slurred, shaking his head to try and wake himself up.

“Yup,” Nya replied. She tossed a crumpled piece of paper onto his lap. “Check it out, I’m gonna go get our tickets.”

She hopped out of the car, and ran over to the ticket booth. Kai yawned, and clicked the light on in the car. The piece of paper had every spot on their haunted building tour written on it, along with a small blurb about each location. He skimmed through the names until he found where they were.

“Castle Garmadon…”

It had been built in the 14th century, allegedly by only two people. A woman and her husband, rumoured by the local townsfolk to both be vampires.

He could believe it when he saw what the castle looked like. It was ginormous, towering over the iron gates surrounding it. The castle sat atop a cliff that overlooked the town below, and it gave the entire countryside a dark and gothic vibe. It looked like something straight out of dracula.

“There you are!”

Kai jumped at the sudden hand on his shoulder, but relaxed when he saw it was only Jay. “Hey, when’d you get here?” Kai asked.

“Just now,” Jay said, gesturing at the blue van that was parked beside Nya’s car. “Zane’s trying to drag Cole out right now, he’s having a bit of a freak out.”

They both turned their heads to see Zane tugging Cole by the arm, trying to pull him off the car door. Cole lost his grip just as Zane gave a hard yank. Kai winced as they both fell backwards onto the concrete ground, that was still wet from the recent shower of rain. “What’s going on with them?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Jay crossed his arms and leaned back against the iron gate. “I hear Cole’s got like, a really bad fear of vampires.”

Kai couldn’t stop himself from snorting. “Seriously? Why?”

Jay shrugged. “No clue, think he just watched too many horror movies as a little kid,” he raised an eyebrow and scanned the parking lot, “hey, where’s Nya?”

“Hey Jay!” Nya grinned as she ran over to them. “I got our tickets,” she handed a ticket to Jay, and then one to Kai, “apparently we’re the only visitors they’ve had in months, so we’ve got the whole place to ourselves to explore!”

“Awesome!” Jay pumped his fist in the air. “Free reign to touch anything we feel like!”

“I told you in the van Jay, we must respect this castle,” Zane chided, approaching them with a mopey looking Cole in tow. “Look with your eyes, not your hands.”

“Ugh, fine. You brought the go pro right?”

Zane sighed, then reached into his shoulder bag. He pulled out an awkwardly large camera, and strapped it over his forehead. “I don’t know why you insisted on this head mount.”

“Panoramic shots Zane, panoramic shots!” Jay shot back, “now lean down so I can adjust it.”

Kai chuckled to himself watching Jay attempt to jump to Zane’s level. His focus drifted towards Cole, who’s eyes were darting back and forth between the gate and the castle, while his hands clenched the sleeves of his jacket. He was rocking back and forth on the spot and muttering something ineligible to himself.

“You good Cole?” Kai asked him, reaching a hand out to grab his shoulder.

Cole flinched and snapped out of his nervous rambling. “What? Oh, I’m fine,” he waved his hand nonchalantly, “just… the castle is so big, it was making me a little, uh… unsettled, yeah, that’s all it is…”

Kai didn’t really believe that, but he didn’t want to hassle him. He just gave Cole a pat on the shoulder and left it at that. The five of them showed their tickets to the guard at the gate, and walked into the courtyard.

-

Those piercing red eyes had to be the creepiest thing about the paintings Cole was surrounded by. It was bad enough that the old castle looked like it was going to collapse any moment, or that it reeked of death and mold. Of course, of course it also had to be infested by vampires. Vampires who loved having their portraits painted, apparently.

“I think these ropes kinda ruin it for me,” Kai said while prodding at one of the velvet ropes that formed a barrier around the paintings. “The illusion of walking through a historical castle thing I mean.”

Cole turned around to glare at him. “Are you seriously not creeped out by all… this?”

Kai gave him a quizzical look. “I can’t really see anything creepy about it.” He walked over and slung his arm over Cole's shoulder. “It’s just an old building dude, nothing to be afraid of except like… maybe asbestos.”

“There is no asbestos in this castle Kai, the maintenance staff thoroughly check and upkeep the entire building twice a year,” Zane said. He was taking pictures of everything using the go pro Jay had thoroughly adjusted several times now. Jay himself was admiring the two giant swords affixed to the wall, along with Nya who was taking pictures with her phone.

Cole pushed Kai off him. “I’m not scared, I’m just saying it’s creepy. I mean, why do all these paintings have red eyes?”

“Because their vampires, duh!” Jay yelled over to them. Kai shot him a glare, and he looked away sheepishly. “I mean, that’s the most popular theory…”

Jay yelped as Nya shoved him in the shoulder. “There’s no such thing as vampires, stop trying to scare him Jay,” she said.

Jay winced and shuffled away from her while rubbing his shoulder. “I wasn’t! Just stating the facts!”

“I agree with Nya, there is simply no scientific evidence at all that backs up the existence of vampires, or any supernatural phenomena at all for that matter,” Zane said flatly. “No matter what conspiracy theorists say to try to defend their opinion, nothing can rationalize it,” he looked pointedly at Jay while speaking, who rolled his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, we get it science man,” Jay said, “in other words, Cole needs to stop being a baby.”

Cole sputtered. “Shut up! Can we just get this whole haunted building tour over with?” Cole sighed while shaking his head. “I can’t believe you guys forced me into this…”

“Excuse me? We all agreed to do this together!” Jay scoffed at him. He absentmindedly scratched at the peeling wallpaper, then frantically tried to hide a chunk he pulled off in his pocket before Zane could yell at him.

“That was before I found out one of the spots on the list was a vampire infested hellhole!” Cole spat at him.

Kai gave Cole a gentle pat on the back. “It’ll be alright man, if you get scared I’ll just let you hold my hand okay?”

Cole scowled. “I don’t need to…”

A loud creaking sound suddenly echoed through the building. Cole screamed and grasped onto Kai’s hoodie for dear life.

“Uhh…” Kai glanced over at Cole, who was cowering and hiding his face in Kai’s shoulder. “You good man?”

In a realization that nothing was coming to kill him, Cole pulled away from Kai like he’d been burned. Jay was laughing like a maniac in the background, and he even heard Zane chuckle softly. Nya just shook her head and walked past them.

“C'mon guys, we’ve only got about another hour and there’s still way more castle to see,” she said, pulling Jay by the arm who was still laughing so hard he was gasping for breath.

Cole felt his face heating up. He pulled his shirt over his face so that no one could see how red he was. Or how much he was still sweating. “Uh… Kai, I think I might just take you up on that offer…”

-

“Y’know, I hear the electric lights in this place have always been here, because the people who lived here were so old they had knowledge from the golden age about electricity that was lost to time,” Jay remarked, as they passed by a marble bust lit up by a light on the ceiling.

“That’s impossible, electric lighting was unheard of during the 15th century, and people barely lived past their thirties, much less thousands of years,” Zane replied.

“Unless they were vampires…” Jay hummed.

Cole shuddered, and squeezed Kai’s hand. As embarrassing as it was to be holding Kai’s hand like he was a little kid going through a haunted house, it was… comforting. Jay was being the absolute opposite of comforting, he was being a pain in the ass.

“Hey Cole, you cold?” Jay asked with a taunting grin. “You're shivering so much, it’s like you just saw a ghost!” He poked Cole on the cheek, and snickered when he let out a frightened squeak.

Cole grit his teeth, and grasped Kai’s hand tighter. Kai took notice of this, and pulled him in closer. “Shut it Jay, give it up already,” he snapped.

Jay stuck his tongue out and ran ahead of them. The castle was like a maze of hallways, staircases, and small rooms filled with nothing but aged looking statues and paintings. They hadn’t found anything like a kitchen or a bedroom yet, but they had walked through a faintly coppery smelling wine cellar.

“This place is less a house, and more an art museum,” Nya mused, gazing up at the idyllic painting of the night sky above her. “Oh hey, there’s a hole in the wall...”

She pulled out a book that was tucked inside the small crevice in the wall, and flipped it open to a random page. “How to grow the finest lavender… the most efficient way to cultivate your vegetables… slugs, snails, and other wretched fiends found in the garden,” she read aloud, being reminded of the decently kept flower patch they passed in the courtyard. “They must’ve really loved gardening…”

The hallway they were in now was long and narrow, with red carpeted floors and black stone walls covered in scratch marks. The carpet was stained and tattered, and the floorboards sounded like they were screaming when they were stepped on. The hole Nya had discovered wasn’t alone, many more littered the wall and even the floor, Jay having discovered one when he tripped and fell on his face.

“Odd…” Zane hummed, “this hallway seems much less cared for than the rest of the castle…”

“No kidding, this floor is gross…” Nya groaned, stepping over a particularly large dark stain. “And where are the windows? I actually haven’t seen a single one anywhere.”

Jay stopped in front of a painting of a raging ocean, and put a finger to his lips as if in thought. “Maybe… the ones who lived here didn’t want any sunlight getting in,” he said.

“Jay!” Nya yelled at him.

Cole shuddered, and hid his face in his hands. “Oh god, it all makes sense… red eyes, no windows, creepy castle… look, there’s even a glass full of blood in that painting!” he said and pointed towards the painting in question.

Most of the paintings of people in the castle were of the same person, and this one was no exception. He was young looking, and had blonde curls that hung over his eyes and just barely touched his shoulders. He had dark brown skin, and freckles that covered his entire face. He wore a black high collared cape that was fastened by a golden flower-shaped brooch. A green ribbon was tied around his neck. The most striking thing about the boy was his bright red eyes, but despite the unnerving colour they had a gentle look to them. He also did indeed have a glass filled with… something red in his grasp.

“It’s likely wine,” Zane said.

“Or blood!” Cole yelled back at him.

“Or… maybe it’s tomato juice?”

Zane and Cole both gave Kai a blank look. “Seriously? Tomato juice? This isn’t bunnicula we’re talking about Kai,” Cole said, “he’s a REAL vampire, not some kids cartoon.”

“Kai, tomato juice had not yet been invented at the time this painting was done, and Cole, I’m telling you vampires are most certainly not real, please calm yourself,” Zane said, irritation seeping into his tone.

“But why the red eyes then huh? Explain that!” Cole slapped a hand onto the painting, eliciting a gasp from Zane.

“Cole!” he yelled, “that painting is centuries old, it’s a priceless piece of history-“

“In my personal opinion,” Jay cut in, stepping in between them and leaning on the rope, “I think the whole legend is legit.”

Zane glared at him. “Jay, don’t start this again-“

“Seriously, this family lives in this huge mysterious spooky castle, no one ever sees them go out during the day, they barely interact with anyone, and then some guy with a silver sword-“

“Wait, why is the fact that it’s silver important?” Kai asked.

“Because vampires are weak to silver Kai, keep up!”

“I thought that was werewolves?”

“Well uh… uh… they're both weak to it alright?!” Jay stuttered, “anyways… he has a silver sword, and he kills the whole family, AND he cuts their heads off and sticks a wooden stake in all their hearts… why?”

“Because he was an asshole?” Nya helpfully supplied.

“Because they were vampires!” Cole yelled, “and they got what was coming to them, thank god…”

“Exactly,” Jay said.

Zane rubbed his temples, and let out a pained sigh. “You two make my brain hurt sometimes.”

“Hey, if you guys are done can we please just keep going?” Kai groaned. They ignored him, and only started arguing louder. He clapped his hands over his ears to block them out, and turned to Nya and nudged her. “Hey, you wanna just go on ahead?” he asked.

Her face scrunched up as she mulled it over. “I’m tempted but…” she glanced over at Zane who was physically restraining Jay from touching the painting, and shook her head. “Someone needs to keep them in check.”

“Fair enough… you mind if I…?”

“Go for it.”

Kai quietly snuck away from the scene of Jay loudly pointing out all the obvious vampire clues in the painting while in the clutches of Zane’s arms, and walked deeper into the mysterious darkness of the castle.

-

The many twisting and turning narrow hallways eventually led Kai to a small, dusty room. It was completely empty. “Aw man, dead end…”

He walked into the room anyways, his eyes drawn to the swirling flower patterns on the green walls, a contrast to the pure black walls of the hallway he came in from. The ceiling was also unusually low, not low enough that he had to duck, but low enough that he could feel his hair brush against it.

“Kai!”

Kai turned around to see Cole running towards him, Jay, Zane and Nya tailing behind him. He came to a screeching halt in front of the door, gasping for breath. “Kai, why the hell did you wander off?!”

“Because you were all held up arguing, I got bored. Wait, were you worried I got like, murdered or something?” Kai asked, raising an eyebrow.

Cole’s cheeks flushed. “No, you just get lost really easily, so I thought-“

“He was totally scared you got murdered, that’s why he was running,” Jay said, “hey, what’s going on in here?”

Jay pushed past a fuming Cole, and walked over to the back wall. “Huh, this is weird… ooh! I bet there’s a switch in here for a secret passage!”

He started pressing his hands into random spots on the wall, musing aloud to himself as he did it. “Not here… not there… guys, come in here and help me look for it!”

“Jay, that sounds dum- ow!” Cole banged his head against the low ceiling. He dropped to the floor, and tried to rub the swelling pain away. “Why is this entire castle built so bad?!” he groaned.

“Ah, the tough life of a mountain sized man,” Kai laughed.

Cole brushed the dust off his pants as he stood back up. “Well, better than being as short as Jay I guess.”

“I HEARD THAT!”

“Let’s just not spend too much time here alright? I’m starting to feel claustrophobic…” Cole said, trying to avoid touching the rotting wood on the doorframe as he shuffled out of the room.

Zane ducked his head as he entered. He gazed around curiously before joining Jay by the back wall. “I doubt there’s a secret passage, but there is something fascinating about this wall.”

“What is it?” Nya asked as she walked in, closing the door behind her. She laid a hand against the wall, but pulled away at the icy cold feeling against her palm. “Yeesh, must have been fun to live here during the winter. Not.”

“Yes, I noticed the temperature as well, but that’s not what I mean,” Zane pointed to a tiny spot on the wall. “Look at this.”

She leaned in to see what he was looking at, but all she could see were squiggly golden lines. “Uh… what exactly I am supposed to be looking at?”

“What’re we looking at?” Kai said as he leaned in over Nya’s shoulder.

“We’re looking at a line of writing in an ancient language, native to Ninjago, spoken by only a handful of people in modern times,” Zane replied, zooming the go pro in to get a better shot. “And lucky for us, I know this language… don’t take that ancient languages class Zane, they said, you’ll never have any use for it, they said-“

“So uh, what does it say?” Jay asked, having given up on searching for a secret passageway.

“Huh? Oh, right…” Zane wiped the dust away from the lettering, and cleared his throat. “It says, ‘reveal my sanctuary’, but then again, I could be-“

Almost as soon as the words had left his mouth, a bright green light began emitting from the wall. All four of them drew back in alarm, Kai tripping over himself and landing on the floor.

“Wha- Zane?! What’d you do?!” Jay yelled, backing up until he bumped against the doorframe.

Zane didn’t answer, his mouth agape as he stumbled back from the light. The door creaked open, and Cole popped his head in. “Hey, what’re you guys yelling about- WHAT THE FUCK?!”

The light suddenly vanished, and in its place was a golden door. The room was silent as they all stared at it. Jay coughed.

“So… who’s gonna go open it?” he asked, still keeping himself as far away from the door as possible.

“None of us!” Cole shouted. “Who knows what’s behind there?” He shakily crept back into the room, and hid behind Zane. “I mean, what if there’s dead bodies that have been rotting in there forever… or worse?”

Zane nodded, and gave Cole a gentle pat on the head. “I agree with Cole, I think it’d be best to ask a facility member about this.”

“And miss the chance to go somewhere we’re not supposed to be without anyone knowing?” said Kai, who without anyone noticing already had his hand on the doorknob.

“NO KAI DON’T-“

He ignored Cole, and slammed open the door. He flipped on the light switch, and was greeted with a colourful sight. This new room was very spacious, and anything but empty.

Shelves covered in glass figurines and ornate jewelry boxes lined the walls, and a giant display case bursting with dolls and plush toys stood against the far wall beside a cabinet filled with wine glasses and bottles. There was a half open wooden wardrobe with gold flowers painted on it, with many lacy and sparkling dresses and capes hanging inside. Green flowing drapes hung from the ceiling, framing a large portrait of the blonde haired boy with two others, a dark-haired solemn looking man, and a woman with red hair and a soft smile.

Kai’s mouth dropped as he stared at the beautiful decor in wonder. It was like being in the room of a disney princess. Well, aside from the coffin that was laying in the center of the room.

“Wait, what?” Kai did a double take. A… coffin. It honestly looked more like a bed with the drapes hanging over it, but it was undeniably a coffin the more he stared at it. “Woah…”

“What’s woah?” Jay peeked over his shoulder, then gasped sharply. “I can’t believe it! I was right! Hey Zane, come in here!”

All of them huddled around the coffin, except for Cole who stayed in the doorway. “Oh my god… is… that a-“

“Coffin? Yup,” Nya said, running a hand along the golden patterns on the coffin's lid. “This is so creepy…”

Cole felt like he was going to throw up. “This is so bad… this is so bad you guys- KAI!!”

Kai flinched and dropped the lid of the coffin. “What? I just wanted a peek.”

Zane’s eyes were wide with amazement. “This is incredible… we may be the first ones to discover this historical treasure… although I do agree that we shouldn’t open it,” he added, “not because of vampires, but because there is likely a decomposing body inside.”

“Gross…” Nya gagged, and stepped back to take a photo from a safer distance from the dead body.

“You seriously still don’t believe me?!” Jay shouted, while violently gesturing to the coffin. “This is all the proof you need!”

Zane narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Hardly. This doesn’t indicate anything other than the fact that this room served as a crypt of some sort, probably for a beloved family member.”

“It’s obviously a vampires bedroom!” Jay retorted. “Probably the blonde guys, since the other two were a married couple so they’d have a two person coffin-“

Nya snorted. “A two person coffin? Those don’t exist.”

“Well I for one think it’s a great product pitch!”

Kai wandered behind the coffin and gazed up at the portrait. The family seemed to really love getting their picture painted. They’d probably lose their minds if they were around when cameras were invented.

He really couldn’t see anything scary about the family though. The blonde kid especially, he just looked like a normal teenager, who just happened to have red eyes. There were plenty of normal human beings who had red eyes.

“I’m just saying there’s no way you can prove that vampires aren’t real.”

“False, I can prove it quite easily with-“

“Guys, give it a rest!” Nya groaned in exasperation. “Look, why don’t we just open the coffin for a minute so we can find out once and for all which one of you is right.”

Zane and Jay looked at each other, then both nodded in agreement. “Sure, why not?” Jay shrugged.

“While I hate disturbing such a beautiful artifact, or any possible remains inside, if it can end this tiresome discussion I agree it is the best course of action,” Zane said.

“Great!” Kai cheered, throwing his arms up, “I’ll open it-“

“NO! NO NO NO ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Cole shrieked as he barreled into the room and blocked Kai’s path. “Do you all wanna have a vampire suck the blood from you like a human juice box? BECAUSE THIS IS HOW THAT HAPPENS!”

“Cole, chill! It’ll be fine! If there was a vampire inside there, don’t you think they would have tried to kill us by now?” Kai asked, gripping onto Cole’s shoulders to try and keep him steady.

Cole glanced down and bit his lip. “Well… it’s daytime, so they might be sleeping-“

“No offense Cole, but you just did a whole lot of screaming,” Nya pointed out. “I think they’d be awake by now.”

“That’s… true… okay, fine,” Cole relented, “you can open it, but before you do…”

He walked over to a small wooden footstool that was laying on its side, and broke a leg off it. Zane let out a strangled cry. “How many times do I have to tell you people, this castle is a piece of history that IS NOT TO BE DISTURBED!”

“This thing is going to protect us,” Cole said while swinging the wooden piece around like it was a sword, “from something far more dangerous if disturbed.”

Zane rolled his eyes and backed away to give Kai room to pry open the coffin. He slid the lid off, and shoved it onto the floor. A choked gasp came from his lips when he saw what lay inside. He stumbled backwards, and was just narrowly caught by Cole before he fell over.

Cole felt his entire body shaking as he looked from the coffin to the also shaking Kai in his arms. “What?! What is it?!”

“It’s… it’s a…”

Jay finished his sentence for him. “HOLY SHIT, it’s a guy!”

Cole dropped Kai ungracefully onto the floor. “WHAT?!” He gripped his makeshift wooden stake tighter as he peered into the coffin.

The boy from the paintings was lying inside the coffin. His hair was a tangled mess, and he had a wooden stake lodged in his chest, but it was definitely him.

The room was dead silent, until Jay loudly cleared his throat. “Well Cole, somebody beat you to it…”

Cole fell to his knees, his stake clattering onto the floor. “Oh god… oh my god… thank god he’s already dead-“ Cole was hyperventilating, “thank god, oh god-“

“Hey, you wanna say sorry for dropping me anytime soon?” Kai asked dryly from where he was still lying on the floor. “No? We too focused on the dead guy?”

“Kai, this is serious!” Nya snapped at him.

Zane also fell to his knees, but for a much different reason. His quivering hands carefully pulled the boy’s shirt up to check his injuries.

“This poor boy died recently…”, he whispered, “several fresh cuts and stab wounds… he’s so cold…”

“Don’t touch him!” Cole yelped.

Zane gave him an icy glare. “Cole, please, put aside your superstition for one moment and grasp the reality of this situation!”

“What’re those stains on his shirt?” Nya asked, pointing to the red and gold splotches on the white blouse he was wearing.

“The red I’m assuming is blood,” Zane replied, “but those gold spots… paint maybe? I’m not sure…” he gently brushed the boy’s hair out of his eyes, his heart aching when he saw the bruises covering his face. “Who could do something like this…”

Cole was about to say something before he received a nasty look from Nya, so he shut his mouth and clenched his fists instead.

Kai cautiously prodded at the stake lodged into the boy's chest. “Yikes, that looks like it hurt… hmm,” without thinking about it very much, Kai grabbed onto the stake and yanked it out of the body. Immediately a river of sparkling golden liquid poured out of the wound.

Cole fainted. Kai dropped the stake and grabbed onto him before he hit the floor. “Dude, snap out of it! Don’t bail on us yet!”

Cole’s eyes fluttered. “Vampire… stake… really bad…” he mumbled, drifting between being awake and being unconscious.

“He’s lost it,” Jay said flatly.

Kai lifted Cole down and laid him onto the floor, then looked down at him with a smirk. “By the way, that’s how you put someone gently onto the floor.”

“Shut up… I’m sorry…” was the last thing Cole said before completely passing out.

“Great, Cole’s blacked out, we just found a dead guy and Kai got his fingerprints on the murder weapon which means he’s totally going to be implicated…” Jay stopped mid rant and hummed thoughtfully to himself, “unless we don’t report this to the police-“

“Jay! How could you even suggest that?!” Zane yelled in shock, “he has a family!”

Jay sputtered, but then bowed his head in shame. “Your right, that was shitty thing to say… but… if he is a-“

“If the word vampire leaves your mouth at any time during the foreseeable future, I’m going to stab YOU with a wooden stake,” Nya said coldly, glaring daggers at Jay whilst already dialing 911 on her phone.

“Wait, just, hold it one minute,” Jay stuttered, “how are we supposed to explain this to the police? Hey we found a body in this old tourist attraction that barely gets any visitors anymore, actually according to the lady at the ticket booth we’re the only ones who have gone in here in like months! But there’s totally nothing suspicious about that guys, no way, haha, we’re just a bunch of innocent college students amiright? Oh god we are fu-“

“OW!”

“What is it now Kai?!”

Kai clutched his hand and hissed in pain. “I tried picking up the stake again, but I got a giant ass splinter! Look!”

He waved his hand in Jay’s face. “See? It’s huge! It’s like a whole twig is stuck in there!”

Jay batted his hand away. “Then pull it out, genius.”

Kai grimaced. “Uhhh… I’d rather not…”

Zane grabbed Kai’s uninjured hand and pulled him over to him. He sat Kai down on the rim of the coffin. “Sit still, I’ll pull it out.”

Sitting still was unfortunately not one of Kai’s strengths. He squirmed as Zane tried to pull the sliver of wood from his palm, accidentally kicking him in the knee when the pain flared up. “Ack! Sorry, it just… stings a lot- OW!”

“It hurts because you're moving around, please try not to kick me again… almost got it… got it!”

“AGGH!”

Kai quickly pulled his hand away as a drop of blood trickled down his palm. It dripped from his hand onto the boy's lips, slipping through the tiny part in his mouth.

And then the boy’s eyes opened.

-

Blood. Need blood. Thirsty. Thirsty, I’m so thirsty… need blood, blood, blood…

Lloyd gasped as air flooded back into his lungs, and his cheeks were filled with intense warmth. He breathed in slowly, and almost started crying at how good it felt to finally breathe again. He was alive. He was alive… but he was so thirsty.

Blood. Blood, I need blood now.

His stomach was aching with hunger. He felt like he was about to die again.

No, can’t die again. Blood, blood… I smell blood…

His vision was blurry from his burning hunger. Shadowy figures were leaning over him. He could hear them yelling at each other, he had no idea what they were saying. Their blood smelled delicious. He felt an urge to bite tingling in his jaw, in his fangs.

Blood, delicious blood…

His fangs… they were back. He remembered something from before dying. He could remember them pulling out his fangs… ripping out his treasured fangs, stealing them… as a prize from the hunt. They stuck silver blades into him when he struggled, blades that burned through his flesh and scraped against his bones. And then… and then they…

“Kid, can you hear us-“

He managed to use the little strength he had left to focus his vision, and was met with the sight of four humans looming over him. Lloyd screamed, and frantically tried to push himself away from them. “Leave me alone! Please!”

He tumbled out of his coffin, landing on the floor with a thud. His sharp nails scraped against the floorboards as he tried to get up and run away. It was no use. He fell back onto the floor in exhaustion, and curled up into a tight ball.

“Please, I’ll give you anything you want,” he sobbed, “just please stop hurting me!”

“None of us are going to hurt you kid, we promise,” he heard one of them say.

Lloyd nervously moved his arm aside to see who was speaking to him. The man who had spoken had tall pointed hair, and was dressed in a red… robe of some kind. He didn’t look like a hunter, but he also didn’t look like anyone Lloyd had ever seen. He took a shaky breath. “Who… who are you?”

The man kneeled down in front of him. “I’m Kai. You?”

Lloyd sniffled, and wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye. “Ll… Lloyd…”

“Hey Lloyd, nice to meet you. Here,” the man reached into his robe, and pulled out a small cloth. He handed it to Lloyd, who cautiously accepted it. Holding it in his hand, he realized it was a handkerchief. For him…

At that moment the dam behind his eyes burst, and the tears seemed to endlessly flow out of him. To be treated with such a simple kindness broke him after what he had endured. The overwhelming situation and the aching thirst still inside him was clouding his senses and leaving him vulnerable. Much too vulnerable.

Bite him… drink his blood…

“You poor thing,” another one of the humans, this one taller than all the others, crouched down beside Kai. “My name is Zane, what happened?”

“I… I… It was… they…” Lloyd could barely remember what happened. He didn’t want to remember what happened. All that he could recall was running, and feeling the agonizing sensation in his chest, and then darkness…

“Endless darkness…” he mumbled. It was still inside him. Gnawing away at him.

Blood, blood I need blood I need it NOW-

He hissed, startling the humans who lunged away from him. Lloyd slapped a hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Did you see that?!” the short human in the blue shirt cried out, “he has fangs!”

Oh god, now they knew. They must’ve thought he was human like them, but now they knew he wasn’t. They were going to hurt him, they were going to kill him, no… no, god please…

“Hey, hey hey it’s okay…”

Kai softly shushed him and wiped away a tear that had fallen down his cheek with the handkerchief. “Your safe now Lloyd, no one is going to hurt you anymore,” he soothed.

“You… you mean… you don’t hate me?” Lloyd asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Even though I’m… a vampire?”

“Dude, I fucking knew it!” the short human shouted. “Take that Zane-“

“Jay, so not the time,” the only human who hadn’t spoken yet said. She had long black hair, and her sleeveless shirt showed off her built arm muscles. She out of all the humans was the most intimidating.

“Of course we don’t hate you dear,” Zane said, “but when you say vampire… do you really mean…?”

Bite someone now, drink their blood. Do it. Do it NOW.

“Stay with us kid, it’s going to be okay,” Kai placed a hand on Lloyd’s shoulder, but jerked away when Lloyd shuddered. “Sorry, I should’ve-“

He could barely even force himself to speak at this point. Kai’s hand was so warm, and his neck was so close…

BITE HIM DRINK HIS BLOOD DO IT NOW-

His thirst was only getting worse with each passing moment. Pushing away his intrusive thoughts was becoming excruciating, and it was showing on his face as sweat dripped down his temples.

“Please don’t come any closer,” Lloyd begged, covering his face with his hands. “I’m not safe to be around right now…”

Kai backed away, but his gentle expression didn’t waver. “We’re not going to leave you like this, your obviously hurt really bad.”

Bad was an understatement. The gouge in Lloyd’s chest had only partially healed, and blood was still oozing out of the wounds left by the silver knife. If he could get even the tiniest bit of blood…

Jay coughed. “Uh, Kai, if the six hundred year old vampire says he’s going to go crazy, then maybe we should-“

“SIX HUNDRED?!” Lloyd gasped, clutching his chest in shock. There was no way he had seriously been dead for that long. “Oh god… I’ve missed so many… oh god…”

“Uh, well… I mean I might’ve miscalculated the exact amo-“ Jay clamped his mouth shut as he shrunk under the glares from every other human in the room.

Six hundred years… but then that meant… that meant… they were dead. The ones who had done this to him were dead. It felt horrible, celebrating that someone was dead. But…

Kai seemed to catch onto what he was thinking. “The people who did this to you are long gone, lucky for them,” Kai clenched his fist into a tight ball, “because I would’ve made them feel ten times more pain…” he growled.

“And then I would’ve made them feel twenty times that, and ground their asses into the dirt,” the black-haired woman added, her eyes lit up with intensity.

“And I would’ve… uh,” Zane stumbled, “defended you the best I could, because no one should ever have to suffer such horrible abuse.”

Despite the pain, Lloyd could feel a warm sensation filling his chest. These people, whom he had only just met, were treating him with kindness he wasn’t accustomed to from those outside of his family. Perhaps… vampires weren’t as hated now, in this new time period. What a lovely time it must be.

Jay, who was still trying to avoid anyone else’s eyes, found himself staring at the glass cabinet behind the coffin. It was filled with bottles of ‘red wine’, a.k.a, probably blood. He pried it open, and took a bottle out. It was cold, and caked in layers of dust. “Hey uh, this isn’t… human blood, right Lloyd?”

Lloyd’s eyes locked onto the bottle in Jay’s hands. His pupils dilated. “Give me that… please.”

Jay gulped. “Uh, sure…” not wanting to get too close, he tentatively rolled the bottle over to Lloyd, who snatched it up faster than he could blink.

The cork was thrown heedlessly aside. The blood inside the bottle was ancient and spoiled, but Lloyd savoured every last drop. He only stopped once to take a gasp of air, chugging the sweet red elixir until the bottle was completely dry.

He sighed with relief as the ravenous voices in his head quieted. Almost immediately, his wounds began healing. The bruises on his skin disappeared, and the gouges and cuts in his flesh vanished without a trace. His full senses returned to him, his eyes grew sharper and his ears twitched as he took in every bit of sound around him.

Kai helped him to his feet. “I’m guessing you're feeling a bit better now?” he asked, taking in Lloyd’s now completely healthy looking appearance.

Lloyd grinned, fangs on full display. “I’m feeling wonderful now, thank you.”

“Woah!” Jay ran over and leaned in close to Lloyd’s face. “Those are so cool!”

“My… fangs? Really?”

Jay bounced up and down on the spot, barely able to contain his excitement. “Totally! Sorry about how I acted earlier, I was just surprised, but this is so awesome! You're a real vampire!”

“O-Oh…” Lloyd blushed, and looked down at his feet. “Thank you-“

“I have so many questions! Okay, one, do you burn in the sun, or is it just like irritating? Oh, and is the garlic thing real? No wait, when you turn into a bat where do your clothes go- hey!” Jay grunted as the dark-haired woman pushed him aside.

“Don’t mind him, he’s always like this about everything,” she said, “I’m Nya by the way, it’s nice to meet you.”

Jay ran over to Zane, and pulled a notebook and pencil out from his shoulder bag. He ducked under Nya’s arm and sat down on the rim of the coffin. “Okay, as I was saying-“

“Sunlight burns us, but we don’t burst into flames or anything, garlic makes my tongue swell up, and…” Lloyd pondered the last question for a moment, “y’know, I’ve never actually thought about that… I assumed they just disappeared… then reappeared.”

Jay paused his furious scribbling of notes. “What? But how does that work?”

Lloyd shrugged. “Don’t ask me! Wait, let me show you something…”

He stretched out his arm, and smiled as a green flicker of light danced across the palm of his hand. For a moment he had feared his powers hadn’t returned yet, but the sparkling flicker growing into an orb of bright light in his hand assured him otherwise.

Jay, as well as Nya, Zane and Kai watched, mesmerized. Lloyd shaped the orb into a diamond, then into a flower, and then in a burst of light dissolved it into a shower of tiny sparkles that floated through the air.

“This… doesn’t make any sense,” Zane said, gazing up at the ceiling that was now lit up with hundreds of star-like lights.

“Does it have to?” Nya replied, smiling as a light landed on her nose. She sneezed, and it drifted until it landed on her finger. “This is so beautiful…”

Lloyd spun around the room, letting out more bursts of sparkles each time the lights dimmed out. He abruptly came to a stop behind the coffin. “Why… is there a sleeping man here?”

They all looked at each other. “Shit, I forgot Cole was still passed out,” Kai said, rushing over to go shake Cole awake. “Cole! Wake up buddy!”

“Hnnngh… huh?” Cole blinked wearily. He sat up, and rubbed his eyes. “Whuhhappened?”

Kai swallowed stiffly. “Don’t freak out, but-“

Lloyd blew a tiny sparkle to Cole. “Greetings sleepy human!” he giggled.

Cole’s face turned pale as he caught sight of Lloyd’s fangs. ”Y… You… your a… vamp-“

“Yes, I am a vampire!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!!!”

[courtofjurdan]

One chance part 6

Jurdan College AU - masterlist

*Feel free to tell me anything you would like to see!! I hope you enjoy!!*

Warning: Mention of nonconsensual touching, mental health issues

She woke up the next morning feeling so numb. She couldn’t even bring herself to go to her classes. This was not like Jude at all. She was the girl that everybody picked on but nobody could break. She was strong headed. She knew what she wanted when she wanted it, and how she wanted it. So when Taryn didn’t see her at school, she began to get worried. Jude would have told her she was sick, right? 

So Taryn decided to text her. 

T: Hey Jude, everything okay? 

J: Yeah

T: Why are you not at school?

J: sick

Taryn knew something was wrong. Jude didn’t just give one word answers. Jude is always thorough. 

T: Can I get you anything?

J: No

T: I’m coming to you. 

J: No 

Jude didn’t sleep much at all. They were dark circles under her eyes from the lack. She hasn’t even ate or drank anything. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. She felt ashamed, but why? She just laid in the bed with tears streaking down her cheeks. 

It was around lunch time where Taryn found Jude in her bed asleep. Taryn had an extra key for her room in case of an emergency. 

Taryn quietly walked over and sat at the edge of her bed and put a hand on her shoulder. 

“Hey Jude, I’m here.”

They didn’t always get along but that didn’t stop them from loving each other. Their twins, their love never stops pouring for one another. They will always take care of each other. 

Jude just buried her head in her pillows, hiding her face. She mumbles, “Get out,”

“What’s wrong?” 

“Get out.” 

“I’m not getting out until you tell me what’s wrong.” 

Jude sat up in bed, and Taryn saw the puffy, red eyes. She saw the tear stains running down her cheeks. She saw raw Jude. The side of Jude she hides from everyone else. The so imperfect Jude. Human Jude. 

Jude thinks herself weak for doing this. Staying in bed and crying. Letting all the emotions flow from her but in reality this is all normal. But Madoc, her adoptive father, taught her to suck up the tears and move on in life. So that’s exactly what she did. She shut sobby emotions out and dwelt on anger. But this was inevitable for crying. This broke her. 

Taryn asked with a look of pity, “What happened, Jude?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

Taryn took a deep breath, “Jude, I’m here for you. No matter what qualms we find ourselves in. You're hurting. Your pain is my pain. I just want to help.”

More tears began to flow down Jude’s face, “I know you do. I’m just not ready to tell. I can’t. I just can’t.” She began to sob. 

Taryn held her in a tight embrace, rubbing circles on her back, “Ok, okay Jude. You don’t have to tell me right now. But if you need anything come and get me. Remember Jude, you're not made of steel. Forget what Madoc made you to be. Your human. It’s ok to cry.” Taryn never noticed the bruises on her arms or neck. 

Jude just nodded, her words would be too broken if she even tried to speak. 

Taryn kisses her cheek and stood up, “I have to go get some lunch and go to class. Can I get you anything before I leave?” 

“No, Taryn I’m good.” 

Taryn nodded and headed to the door. But before she could close the door, Jude said, “I love you.” 

Taryn smiled and yelled back, “I love you too.” 

Taryn was seething when she left. She knew it had to be the hated friend group. The one that included Cardan. She went and grabbed a quick lunch and waited in the hallway until she saw one particular common face. Silently, she grabbed his shirt and brought him to an empty classroom to talk privately. 

“What did you do to my sister?” Taryn said through gritted teeth.

Cardan was taken aback. “What do you mean ‘what did I do?’”

Don’t play dumb, Cardan Greenbriar. My sister is the most pain I’ve seen her in since our parents’ death. What happened?”

At that Cardan eyes went wide with confusion and worry. “Taryn I’m not joking I didn’t do anything. But I’m pretty sure Valerian and Nicasia did. She stopped me in the hallway yesterday and I assumed harsh words were given to Jude by valerian.”

“Harsh words wouldn’t hurt Jude like I saw her hurting. Or they must have said something bad.” 

“I don’t know what they did. I’ll call Jude and see if she will tell me anything.” At that Cardan started to leave but Taryn stopped him. 

“You are trying to change for her, aren’t you?” 

With a shy smile on his face, he said, “I’ve got one chance.” 

 Cardan and Taryn went to their classes and after Cardan was finished and left his last class that Jude was supposed to be at, he got in his fifty thousand dollar mustang and called her. 

And of course, it went to voicemail. 

He left a message, “Hey Jude, it’s Cardan. You weren’t at any classes today and I wanted to make sure you're okay. Call me back when you get a chance. Bye.” 

To say the least, she never called back. 

But she did get up the next day and went to class. Her eyes were swollen and the dark circles were quite noticeable now. She went in and didn’t talk or smile or give anybody a sense in the world. She just looked down. 

Her friends tried to say something when she gave them no care in the world but she didn’t say a thing. They knew she was hurting and they hated to see her that way. She was always so strong and mighty for them. But people break. 

Cardan walked in and saw Jude and he saw the dark circles, her swollen eyes, he saw her brokenness. Most people would have thought it was just a bad day for her, but Cardan knew. He has been observing her for far too long to not notice. 

He walked up to her and knelt down and carefully said, “Jude are you okay?”

“Go away.” Her words were with no emotion. Just blank. 

He stayed there for a couple of more seconds, hoping she would say something else. 

“Go away.” She said with way more bite. She looked up at him and he saw the line of tears that dare break loose from her eyes. 

He nodded and walked away. Maybe she just needed time. Maybe he reminded her of Valerian and Nicasia. She just needs time to heal, so he thought. 

So he didn’t talk to her, he let her wallow. He let her grieve whatever was missing. He let her be, no matter how hard it hurt him to. 

The days turned into weeks. It had been 4 weeks. One whole month. She went from a girl with willpower nobody could challenge, to a girl that was wasting away. He saw, as the weeks went by, her becoming much thinner. Her clothes were becoming quite baggy. 

He wanted to do something but he felt like if he did, he would make it worse. Bomb, Ghost, and Roach tried to help her, but she pushed them away. They saw the same thing Cardan did. They still tried to help her though. Taryn was worried sick about her. Jude wouldn’t let her help her. Taryn had to watch from the sidelines like everyone else. 

One day the Bomb had had enough. She missed Jude. So one day when Jude was moping in her bed, looking lifeless as ever, she barged in. 

Bomb with an annoyed look on her face said, “Okay, get up.”

“Why.” Jude barely spoke a word these days. 

“Because your friends are taking you out.”

“I’m good, thanks though.” 

“You have no option. I will bring reinforcements to get you up off that bed.”

“Okay, go get your reinforcements.”

“Boys!” The Bomb shouted. 

The Ghost and Roach step in from the hallway of the dormitory. Jude looked at her reinforcements and a small smile spread across her face. 

Bomb, with a happy attitude at the smile given, said, “Look, there’s that smile we miss so much.” 

Jude rolled her eyes. The boys went and got her shoes, put them on her feet and both grabbed an arm and pulled her off the bed. And pushed her all the way to the Bomb’s car. 

They went out to eat and took her to see a movie. And it was fun. Jude was glad the Bomb brought her reinforcements because with them, she probably wouldn’t have gone.

But reality sat back in when she stepped into that empty dorm room with nobody but her emptiness. She was just so tired of feeling nothing. So tired of feeling ashamed. 

Then she looked at her phone and saw Cardan’s name pop up and saw he had sent a text message. It contained three words. I miss you.

The tears started rolling, again. How could he miss her and do what she thinks he did. They are his friends so he had to know about it. He didn’t physically do it but he could have stopped it. Or so she thought. She was glad it was Saturday the next day so she wouldn’t have to get up or see anybody. 

Jude never responded back. And Cardan was tired of Jude ignoring him. So by Saturday’s noon, he went and knocked on the door. She went to the door and opened it. Cardan stood there with a shy smile. She saw his face and slammed the door. 

Cardan reopened the door himself, and welcomed himself in. She was angry, he could basically see the heat from it coming off of her. 

Hesitantly Cardan said, “Hey Jude.”

“Get out.” Jude said through gritted teeth. 

“I just want to talk. I want to make up whatever happened. I think my friends did something to you, said something to you, but I swear, I had no idea.” He said so gently that it broke a piece of Jude’s heart but she wasn’t going to fall in his tricks again.

“I don’t care that you want to talk. Leave!” She was shouting that by the end.

Before Cardan left, he said, “Stop blaming me for the sins my friends did. I don’t know what they did, but I didn’t do it.”

Before he could walk out the door Jude grabbed his wrist. “Then why do you still hang around them.”

“Because they are the only people that give two flips about me.”

“Do you wanna know what he did?” Cardan didn’t have to ask who “he” was. He knew it was Valerian. Jude grabbed her phone off of her bed. 

Cardan just nodded. Unsure where this was headed. 

“He locked me in the women’s bathroom on campus, and-” she began to choke up, trying to catch her breath from the tears. “He touched me. He kissed me. I was assaulted by him, Cardan. And that’s a pain that doesn’t stop.” Jude began to show him the pictures of the bruises that he left on her neck and legs and arms. “He wasn’t gentle. That’s why I have been so mad. Been so mad at everything.” 

Cardan just stood there with wide eyes and open mouth. He couldn’t believe they would go this far. He was mad. Not at Jude. No, at his friends. He saw Jude drop to her knees and sob. He’s never seen this side of Jude. She also put up a good front for him also. 

He didn’t know what to do. He got on the ground with her and scooted her to his lap, despite the defiance she gave, and he let her cry on him. He rubbed soothing circles on her back. He was speechless. Tears started to well up in his eyes from the pain he could see her in. There was nothing on earth that he could say to make this better.

She cried so hard that she ended up falling asleep on him. So he just sat there on the floor, as uncomfortable as he was, and he let her sleep for half an hour. When she started moving he spoke up, “Jude I’m so sorry he did that. If I could have done anything to stop it, I would have.”

She didn’t say anything. She got up from his lap, went to her bed and pulled the covers over her. He looked at her and left her room. Without a word. He didn’t know what they had done was this bad. 

So now he wasn’t going back to his dorm, he was going to Valerians. He knocked on his door and he answered it with a smug smile. But Cardan punched that smug smile right off his face. He punched and punched and valerian punched right back. At the end, Valerian was pretty bloody and Cardan just had few cuts and a black eye. 

Before Cardan left, he yelled out with as much venom as possible, “If I ever hear that you touch her again or any girl for that matter, it will be much worse than this.” And he left with a slam of the door. 

The next day Jude saw Valerian in the hallway. She saw the beat up face. The look of death he was giving her. All she was thinking is that he deserved it. But it wasn’t until she saw Cardan’s face that she knew what happened. She went up to him. 

“Cardan, what happened?”

“I took care of business, Jude.”

“You beat him up for me?”

“Of course I did, he ruined my one chance.”

And Cardan walked away. 

Jude was left standing there, thinking. Maybe he really did care for me to go to extents like this. Maybe I should apologize for blaming him. Maybe I should renew his one chance. 

Next chapter

Taglist:

@newwifeyy | @mi-mavencalories | @roseygirl25 | @spideygirlstuff | @afexiss | @aelin-queen-of-terrasen | 

[woodrokiro]

Hollowed (fic) Part Five

Fandom: Bleach

Pairing: IchiRuki

Summary: They call her a miracle, but he looks at her as if she’s normal. It scares her. Fantasy/Futuristic/Zombie kinda?AU. Read Parts One, Two, Three, and Four. 

It turns out to be a Hollowed… Because of course it is. 

Luckily it’s only one, and small from what the messenger describes. Still, from the way the messenger’s eyes widen while describing it, Ichigo assumes it really has been a while since these people saw one, and must’ve given the soldiers quite a drill.

But he could care less if the soldiers panicked. What he wants to know is if it’s dead.

“Y-yes sir! I saw if for myself, its eyes had clouded over, and its mouth--”

“I don’t need to hear about it.” And he really didn’t, as he could already imagine it: its yellowed fangs bared into a nasty snarl, the eight legs curled pathetically into its jet black body, its eyes peering from behind a horrific mask, milky with death.

He’s seen enough of them. 

“Were there any casualties?”

“No, not that I’m aware of--”

“Aware of? What does that mean?”

“Well, all soldiers are accounted for…”

“But not civilians here?”

“If you’re worried about your friends,” Rukia calls from behind him, and the messenger straightens as if he’s forgotten she’s there-- “there’s not much to worry about. Very rarely are civilians even let outside the compound. When soldiers go out, they are often flanked and covered by the remaining at the walls. It’s all planned far out in advance. We would know about it.”

That clears a bit of Ichigo’s anxiety, but not enough. 

In truth, he’s worried about his sisters. The last time they all encountered those monsters, they were even more horrifying than all the previous times before. Their village was destroyed, people left dead in the streets, their father fighting with all he had left…

Not that he’s not worried for his friends’ mental well being, but his sisters are just twelve years old: too young for any of this bullshit. 

And yeah, it’s always been a part of their lives… But he’s their big brother. He’s supposed to be their protector, or at the very least comforting them. 

Which is why being cooped up here in the name of a job is driving him insane. 

When the bell first started clanging, a soldier ran through to tell him he was to remain here with Lady Rukia at all costs until somebody gave him further instruction. When Ichigo tried to ask when might he be given further instruction--let alone what happened--the soldier sneered. 

“This is your job now,” he spat. “And an important one at that. You are never to leave Lady Rukia during your shift. As for what’s going on, you’ll be told when the information needs to be relayed to you. I recommend you stop asking questions.”

Fucking hell, he’s tired of hearing that. The guy is lucky he ran out so quickly, as Ichigo could’ve throttled him. Instead, all he could do is pace around his partitioned space like a tiger in a cage, ignoring the girl on the other side of the room who probably wouldn’t speak to him anyway.

And now, apparently, she feels inclined to butt in, all uppity and knowledgeable. He spins to face her. 

“Yes, I’m worried about my friends,” he grits out his teeth. “But I’m also worried about my sisters. I’m all they have, and the last time one of those things were within such a vicinity to us it was a real fucking nightmare. Now,” he turns back to the messenger. “If you have the time, I’d really appreciate if you could go to the kitchens and relay a message to Karin and Yuzu Kuro--”

“Go to them.”

Ichigo turns incredulously back toward her, and is starting to think this twisting back and forth is getting really old. “Huh?”

“I was clear enough, fool. Go find your sisters. Take the rest of the day off.”

He nearly sputters. Is there something he’s missing here? “B-but you heard that other guy--”

“That ‘other guy’ is technically correct, in any other situation you won’t be able to leave me.” She’s got her arms crossed, with a superior look in her eye that Ichigo kind of hates but also he’s feeling hopeful about what she’s saying so he’ll just ignore it for now. “But today is your first day. I believe you’ve received basic training enough--”

“Well, I mean I didn’t really do anything--”

“Don’t be so modest, sir. You’ve done plenty.” She looks at him with raised eyebrows pointedly. 

He shuts his mouth. 

“Some soldiers will probably be here shortly to relieve you in any case. They always take me when this sort of occurrence happens...” she drifts softly, before her eyes suddenly shine (yes, shine) toward the messenger. “Sir there! Would you be willing to chaperone me in Sir Kurosaki’s absence, until then? I would be most appreciative of it.”

The messenger shifts, but Ichigo can see a blush rise on his cheeks. “Oh, w-well I’d be most honored, milady. But I’m afraid I’m not of military calibre to watch you. You see, I might as well be a grunt--”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter. So long as you’re a soldier, you can protect me. And don’t worry, if any of the higher ranks or even Lord Yamamoto raise questions about it, I’ll be happy to take the blame.” She smiles sweetly before turning back to Ichigo. “Thank you for your services, sir. You are dismissed.”

He blinks. “So, does that cover for me too or…?”

“What, you believe I would cover for one party in a situation and not the other? Yes, Mr. Kurosaki, you as well. Now, goodbye.” She waves him off dismissively. 

While that kind of pisses him off--and it’s bizarre how fast she changed gears--he’s grateful.

---

He finds the girls perfectly safe and sound when he rushes into the kitchens. In fact, they hadn’t even heard the news of the Hollowed… Which Ichigo finds quite eery how news like that isn’t relayed to the service as quickly as the bell clangs for the military--but at the very least, he’s glad to find they’re safe and not scared. 

He tries to express some sort of a game plan to them: that if he’s not able to go to them in times of danger, find Chad, or even Uryu--well, not Uryu, as he might be on the front lines--

“Relax, Ichigo.” Karin cuts him off with a gentle smirk. “We know how to take care of ourselves for this sort of thing… Or at the very least: how to not get killed. Worst case scenario, I’ve got kitchen knives here I can use.”

“Plus, they’ve got me.” Inoue steps forward from the spot she’s been quietly listening and kneading dough. She claps her floury hands together. “I know that I-I don’t look like much, Ichigo, but you can count on me to protect the girls! All this kneading is giving me some real arm strength! Not to mention when I put in my secret ingredients, that makes it even tougher!!” 

She strikes a pose with her biceps flexed, and while Ichigo’s not quite sure if that’ll be enough to tear apart the creatures responsible for the near extinction of humanity, he still smiles and thanks her. He has to remember that the three in front of him are smart and very much capable of taking care of themselves.

He doesn’t really have a choice, otherwise. 

---

Later that night when everyone else but the boys are asleep, he asks Uryu whether he saw the Hollowed. 

“I did. In fact, one of my arrows got stuck in its putrid ribs.” He pushes his glasses up.

“I saw it as well,” Chad offers. “My boss and I were restocking the weapons on the wall while they burned the body.”

“Chad, you too? So I was the only one to miss out on the action, huh?”

“Not much action, Kurosaki. Truth be told, the military is true to its word. Pretty organized on the killing, once they got past the initial shock. I imagine they’d have a harder time with a horde of them, though.” Uryu opens his mouth to say something, but hesitates.

“What?” Ichigo eyes the look passed between Uryu and Chad. “What was wrong with it?”

“It… Had some… One of its legs was a human arm.” Uryu grinds his teeth. “Recently turned. I think… It might’ve been someone from our village.”

Ichigo prays it wasn’t anybody he knew well, let alone his dad. Trapped in a horrid body like that, slithering miserably up the mountain for fresh blood--it’d be a nightmare he can barely stomach. 

But it wouldn’t matter in any case, he guesses.

A loss is a loss is a loss. 

---

The next morning, he’s informed that he has to report to Yamamoto before his shift. It must be because of what happened yesterday, he realizes. The old man is pissed.

He drags himself into the office, where Yamamoto is (seemingly) calm, reading a book.

The old man smiles. “Ah, Kurosaki! Do sit. Why, you look quite uncomfortable. Are your concerns with the Hollowed yesterday? I hope your sisters were all right.”

Well, shit. 

“Yeah, they were… Thanks.” Ichigo eyes the man across him, waiting for an explosion. “So… Rukia told you…?”

“Lady Rukia told me she dismissed you, yes. Oh dear, you thought I might be upset about that? Well, I suppose on any other occasion I might be quite angry.” 

Ichigo shifts uncomfortably. “So… Why not this time?”

“Well, I suppose I never did properly explain Lady Rukia’s position in this place. Certainly, she is technically ranked above you--ranked above many generals, in fact--and so I cannot blame you for following her orders. How did you like her, by the way?”

“Well… I mean she’s… Quiet. But okay, I guess--”

“She can be quite quiet, you’re right. But I hope you’ll find she’s also very kind. Gentle. Clever, too.” Yamamoto raps his knuckles against his desk. “But she’s also rather frail. The soldiers that took her after you left go to her quarters quite often to escort her to the medical facilities. She runs through quite a number of tests and medicines there for her condition. She’s very smart and capable, yes; but also can suffer some… Sufferings in judgement. Sometimes she doesn’t know what’s the best for her, so a select few including myself make certain decisions for her. Does that make sense?”

Ichigo doesn’t think the girl he saw yesterday looked sick at all, let alone capable of being anything but a smartass brat--but he nods. 

“So next time it happens that my lady gives an order that you’re not quite sure about, request my presence immediately and I’ll sort it out. I trust your judgement. In fact, I’ll be requesting meetings every few days to ask you about updates on her condition and such.”

“... So you’re asking me to spy on her?”

“Not at all! Just that she gets quite tired sometimes… You’ll see. I just want to know how she’s doing after her treatments, so we can get her the help she deserves.” Suddenly, the old man’s focal point shifts to somewhere past Ichigo. “Ah! Well, speak of some sort of devil. Ichigo, this is Lady Rukia’s older brother, Byakuya. He’s a captain within our military.” 

Ichigo turns around to see a man with long black hair standing in the doorway, eyeing him coolly. He clumsily gets up, walking over while reaching out his hand. The guy looks like a complete douchebag, but an older brother deserves to know his sister’s taken care of. “Ichigo Kurosaki, it’s--”

“I know who you are, thank you.” Byakuya drifts past Ichigo’s outstretched hand, toward the seat where Ichigo was previously sitting. 

All right. So he really is an asshole.

“Give Rukia my regards. Lord Yamamoto, I have some reports with you I’d like to discuss.”

“Of course. Kurosaki, you may go now.” And just like that (again!) it seems the Yamamoto forgets his existence. 

Ichigo is just about to shut the door when the old man’s voice calls out. 

“Oh, and Kurosaki?” 

He holds the door, waiting. 

“I understand some--including Lady Rukia--warned you against being in her quarters with her, past the screen. This is one of the occasions I’d like you to ignore her order.”

Ichigo looks back inside at Yamamoto. “Um… I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that. Not if she isn’t.”

“Of course, completely understandable. But if she ever relays a sense of danger in being there… Worry not. There is none.”

Ichigo shuts the door.

He’s not about to go into some girl’s room without her wanting him there.

[archadianskies]

slivers and shards

→ on Ao3

@dbhrarepairs Wednesday Day 3: Soulmates / Glitch; post-revolution Connor/Daniel

When he’s brought back from the dead, there’s something wrong something off something not quite right; there’s a glitch in his system. There’s a critical oversight buried under the relief of waking up again and shoved to the furthest recesses of his mind.

His name is Connor, the Deviant Hunter turned deviant saviour who asked personally for his reactivation and release. The world has changed so drastically in the last three months and he is old news, forgotten dust left in the wake of a revolution and trodden underfoot.

The Sentient Life Act passed on December 1 means all crimes committed by and against androids are pardoned and society begins anew. By the grace of the Jericho Four he is granted a new life. Why and for what purpose he doesn’t know.

“That android you met on the rooftop, that wasn’t me.” Connor tells him on the morning of his reactivation, face earnest. “That was CyberLife. I would like a chance to start over with you, Daniel. You don’t even have to be Daniel if you don’t want. We can choose for ourselves now.”

“I want to be Daniel.” The words tumble out of his mouth and he clutches his name like a rope to a drowning man. “She gave me my name. I want to keep it.” It’s all he has of her now, and it’s all he knows.

>Add family?: Y/N

>>N

“Okay Daniel.” Connor’s smile is gentle and pitying and he hates it. He hates that he doesn’t really hate it. It’s just a glitch, that infuriating glitch in his head that makes him yearn to belong.

It must be some sick experiment run by CyberLife, sending their negotiator to greet him with smiles and encouragements and expecting him to yield. And yield he does, because the glitch in his system means he hangs onto every scrap of kindness, every tidbit of praise like the good little PL600 he is.

Connor has family, something Daniel thought he once had. He has a human father, an android brother, and a dog. He belongs to them and they belong to him, and the circle is complete and Daniel looks at it from the outside wishing he were in. 

There is no family to be found at Jericho, not when others despise him for so suddenly shining a light on deviancy. The light had certainly not been flattering.

“This is Simon, the original founder of Jericho and one of the Jericho Four.” Connor introduces them one day and Daniel looks back at his own face though Simon looks infinitely more exhausted.

“A brother, Connor?” Simon’s smile is tired but genuine as he clasps Daniel’s hands. “You’ve brought me a brother.”

There are eighteen other PL600s in Jericho, excluding Simon himself and Simon’s lips quirk briefly when he declares that he now will even out the number to a nice rounded twenty. That’s all the PL600s left in Detroit city. Twenty. 

Their line is obsolete, weak, slow, not worth saving and after Daniel’s stint on television though there was no official recall apparently waves and waves were returned and destroyed. He is responsible for the death of their brothers. Just another critical error stacked atop the glitches that make up his mind.

Simon sees the weariness on his face, a face like his own, and takes him home away from the open hostility at Jericho. Daniel meets Markus Manfred, the leader of the revolution; one of a kind Kamski masterpiece, and adopted by a human father and human brother. 

Here too, Daniel is on the outside looking in. Simon is kind and lovely and patient and all the things Daniel doesn’t deserve, and for all his kindness and loveliness and patience Daniel does not belong here.

>Add family?: Y/N

>>N

“What will you do with your new life?” Connor asks one day, and they are walking through the rain sharing an umbrella wandering aimlessly through Hart Plaza for the sake of aimless wandering.

“I don’t know.” Daniel answers. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I want to know.” Connor’s smile is sheepish and apologetic. “I guess it’s penance owed.”

“You put Emma’s life above mine. You did the right thing, you made the right call.” Daniel sighs and he is too tired for this. “You owe me nothing, Connor.”

“Perhaps.” Connor nods. “But I want to help. We’re allowed that now, Daniel. We can want things.”

“I don’t know what I want.” He does know, though. He wants his old life back. He wants to hold Emma’s hand when they cross the road.  He wants to help her with her homework. He wants to bake her favourite cookies and sneak her an extra one before dinnertime. He wants to read her bedtime stories and tuck her in and kiss her brow goodnight. He wants to be needed and loved and he can’t have that ever again. Glitchy androids aren’t useful to anyone.

Family: Emma Phillips

>Remove family?: Y/N

>>Y

Family: None

“Daniel…” Connor’s voice is soft with concern, his touch softer as he rests his other hand on his arm.

“I don’t want to be alive. That’s what I want.” He hisses through gritted teeth, and the tears slip down his cheeks and he’s furious and frustrated. “I can’t stand to be awake in a world that makes no sense to me. You drag me out here and talk about new life and second chances and wanting, and all I want is the darkness you put me into in the first place.”

“No.” Connor shakes his head. “That’s not what you want.”

He wants to scream, he wants to shout that Connor couldn’t possibly know a single thing about him, that what he wants is for all this to go away and yet all he does is stand there and cry. Slowly, as if afraid to startle him, Connor steps close and wraps his arms around him and Daniel cries and cries and cries.

“It’s alright,” Connor murmurs, squeezing him close. “We can figure it out together.”

He finds new purpose in a small bakery in Greektown, a place called Essie’s. He bakes Emma’s favourite cookies and the baker Mrs Esselthorpe, an ageing woman with kind eyes and gnarled hands, finds they are her favourite too. 

There’s no need to interact with humans or androids who would recognise him since he stays out the back by the ovens. The way the dough forms and rises and bakes fills him with a sense of accomplishment and pride and the empty trays are congratulations on a job well done. He bakes cookies and croissants and finds fulfilment in the steady routine.

They are...peace offerings, in a way; paper bags warmed by freshly baked cookies and given with the hopes they will enjoy his creations and by extension his company. Leo declares his undying love for them through a mouthful of his fifth cookie, spraying crumbs everywhere as Simon sighs indulgently and North snorts through a laugh as Josh hands him a napkin. Carl dips one into his afternoon tea and eats it slowly, complimenting him on the use of spice within the dough.

“You and Simon make the most delicious cookies. Must run in the family.” Carl winks, and he quickly turns his head so his red LED can’t be seen and commented upon. Family . There’s that word again.

He bakes two sets of cookies next, one for human consumption and the other for canine consumption. Hank gives a surprised, amused laugh as they watch Sumo enthusiastically tuck into the dog biscuits. He fixes Daniel a curious look.

“Anyone invent a way for you boys to eat these too? Seems a shame you can’t enjoy them.” He dunks the cookie into a glass of milk and chews thoughtfully, closing his eyes for a moment to savour the taste. “Can’t remember the last time I ate a freshly baked cookie.”

“We can consume a small amount to analyse the composition of ingredients.” Ronan informs him, picking up a cookie and sniffing it. “Domestic androids have taste receptors too, used for adjusting foods to their family’s liking.”

Connor plucks the cookie from his brother’s hand and nibbles on it, LED swirling yellow.

“Well Daniel, perhaps next time use less vanilla, and add hazelnuts along with the milk chocolate chips.” He shoots his father a grin. “One of Hank’s weaknesses is Nutella.”

Two months into 2039, and six months after that fated night on the rooftop of the Phillips home the world continues to turn and life continues ever onward. Progress is slow for the Jericho Four but progress is progress and they certainly have more rights now than they ever did before.

Still, there’s a question unanswered: What use is a PL600 with no family to care for? It’s the question that’s plagued his mind ever since reactivation but he realises he’s been approaching it wrong this whole time. 

He’s not sure how or why it happens, but slowly, ever so slowly, the urge to return to the darkness ebbs away. It’s small moments, slivers and shards that he gathers in his palms and holds them close. The way Simon treats him like a brother, taking all his sins astride and never breaking step as if they’ve been family all along.

The way Leo Manfred is all black scathing humor much like North, and how those two refuse to let him wallow in the storms of his mind when he could be poking fun at the dark clouds instead.

The way Connor’s brother Ronan meets his snark and scowls with an unflinching expression and witty deadpan delivery. The way Hank always eats his baking leftovers.

The way Mrs Esselthorpe holds his hands and squeezes them at the end of the day before she shuffles off home. The way Connor drops by to buy cookies for the precinct with the money he now legally earns.

The way Connor always asks how he’s doing and seems to genuinely care about the answer. The way Connor waits for him some evenings after work so he can walk him back to his shoebox of a home. The way their hands find each other on one such evening walk home, and Connor’s usual charming puppylike smile is almost shy and hopeful and all the things Daniel doesn’t deserve but wants and yearns for. The way Connor presses his lips to his and it’s a blessing, it’s validation, it’s confirmation the glitch isn’t a glitch at all.

He may not be a part of the Phillips family anymore, and perhaps he never was, but this is his family now.  

>Add family?: Y/N

>>Y