#Cameo from The Predator

[lumiambrose]

✰ masked intentions

kinktober 24 - day twentynine

featuring: tabito karasu x f!reader

summary: it's the party of the year, and you’re on a mission to get laid. seems like the ghostface you ran into wants to endulge your fantasies.

tags: smut, mask kink, slight predator/prey, petnames (darling, pretty), reader is wearing lingere, big dick karasu, paise, possessive karasu, tiny bit of angry fucking, teeny tiny bit of degrading, oral (m!receiving), @/strawchocoberry cameo <3

wc: 2.6k

it’s the night of halloween. children are trick or treating, couples are binge-watching scary movies under blankets together, and you’re getting ready for the biggest party of the year. you’re slipping on the wings of your angel costume (which is really just a flimsy piece of white lingerie) as you get ready with your friends. all of you doing your best to make an impression. i mean, you’ve heard that stars from across the world will be there. you for sure won’t miss the opportunity to mingle with a-listers.

you arrive at the function, and it’s not long until your friend group has split up. while some are trying their luck at one of the many games of chance, others are buying over-the-top colourful drinks. you though, find yourself on the dancefloor with your friend, candy. swaying your hips as you dance on one another. you all had a few drinks before arriving to the party, which are now starting to take effect as your vision gets dizzy and your body feels lighter. although you're snapped out of your trance by the strong smell of cologne filling your senses. it takes you a moment to process the unfamiliar smell, although before you can turn around, you feel two large palms on you, swaying your hips for you.

candy lets out a short giggle before disappearing amongst the sea of people, leaving you alone with the stranger behind you. he finally spins you around, keeping his hands firm on you as you get your first glance at him. he’s tall, muscular too. although quite underdressed. donned in a black shirt and pants, but what really catches your attention is the scream mask covering his face.

the music pounds in sync with your heartbeat, your pulse quickening as his hands move you. he’s firm, but not too rough, guiding your movements like it’s second nature. he looks down at you, tilting the mask slightly, and you can almost feel his gaze burning through the fabric. he’s close, way too close for a stranger, but you find the tension quite enjoyable.

you smirk, still dancing in his grasp, but now you glide your hands up his chest, giving you the chance to feel him up. to no surprise, you feel his hard abs beneath the shirt, tracing them with your finger. "you always dance with strangers like this?" you tease, voice low and playful, barely audible over the pounding bass.

he doesn’t answer you verbally. instead, the grip he has on your hips tightens just a little, pulling you closer so that your body is pressed up against his. you catch your breath, feeling goosebumps trail up your skin. you wonder if he’s enjoying this as much as you.

"not much of a talker, huh?" you challenge, grinning up at him. his silence is intoxicating, like a dare you can’t help but take. you slip out of his grasp, taking a step back, watching as his head tilts ever so slightly, almost like he’s intrigued—confused. your heart races, the alcohol left in your system giving you enough courage to pull through with your silly stunt.

"it’s a pity, ghostface. you can’t just stare at me the whole night and expect me to fold.” you whisper, barely above a breath. “catch me if you can." with that, you take off into the crowd.

you sneak and wriggle your way through the sea of costumes, your pulse pounding in your ears. you glance back once, twice—he’s following. even while you’re running away, you can feel his presence, his height towering over everyone else as he keeps up without even breaking a sweat. the thrill of him chasing you sends a rush of adrenaline through you.

you turn a corner, slipping into a darker part of the casino where the lights are dimmer, more ambient. you try to blend in, but before you can catch your breath, you feel it again—those hands.

he’s fast.

he hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you back into his body as though he’s done this a hundred times before. he spins you around, backing you up against the wall, and you let out a breathless laugh, unable to stop the grin from spreading across your lips.

"gotcha," he murmurs, finally speaking. the first thing you notice is his accent and low voice, sending a shiver down your spine.

you look up at him, trying to keep your cool despite being out of breath and shaky. his mask is close, his body pressing into yours, making your skin burn. "that was quick," you tease, catching your breath.

"you didn’t run fast enough," he replies, his voice carrying a teasing edge now, one that mirrors your own.

something in his words makes your stomach flip. he leans in closer, giving you no space to move, gaining your undivided attention. even if you do want to look away, you know you can’t. you’re too enamoured by your mystery man to do so.

before you could ruin the mood, his voice interrupts you. “seeing as i caught ya, it’s only fair i receive a reward, no?” instead of giving you time to reply, he scoops you into his arms, leading you away from the casino. frankly, you should be scared shitless by now, but your gut is telling you that you’ll regret it if you chicken out tonight.

he ends up carrying you to a hotel room, presumably his, and on the way there you can’t stop thinking about his voice. you know you’ve heard it before; it’s so familiar, but you can’t quite put your finger on from where.

although, as you finally enter the hotel room, your brain clicks. you’re greeted by a lavish suite with a king-sized bed and a view to die for. although what really catches your eye is the pair of cleats and pxg uniform.

you connect the dots. you’re in karasu tabitos hotel room.

“karasu?” you don’t even think as you murmur his name, still trying to process the situation at hand.

he pauses. you’re still in his arms, but not for much longer. “oh? so you do know who i am,” he mutters, sounding almost disappointed in you. “were ya feignin’ innocence the entire night, huh? ya want me that badly?” he throws you onto the bed before leaning in, towering over your frame. even without seeing his face, he looks frighteningly hot. you can even see a trace of his abs beneath his shirt.

“that doesn’t matter, does it? yer still gonna give me my reward. ain’t that right, darlin’?” his right hand moves to your face, holding you firm, forcing you to lock eyes with him. even underneath the mask, you can feel his eyes burning into yours. you muster out a quiet “mhm”, but he won’t take that as an answer.

“c’mon pretty. can’t quite hear ya. ya gonna let me use ya?” he’s much closer this time and it’s intoxicating. your instincts are telling you to undress him then and there, but you’re too scared to make your move yet. instead, you play along with his little game.

“of course. use me all you want, mister ghostface.” a smirk plays on your lips, doing your best to hide the excitement coursing through you. although, he doesn’t seem all too pleased with your answer.

“ghostface? though ya knew my name,” he tuts, feigning sadness in his words. “what a dumb bitch. guess i’ll have to fuck it into yer head tonight.”

he rips your outfit. not even giving you time to breath as he removes the cheap fabric, tossing any stray pieces to the side as he basks in the sight of your bare body.

“what a naughty angel i’ve caught,” he’s moving you to the side of the bed, helping you off. “ya gonna repent for yer sins? on yer knees, darlin’.”

you obey eagerly. i mean, who in your situation wouldn’t? you’re naked, in your celebrity crush’s hotel room, who's asking you to suck him off. only a fool would give up a situation like yours. following his orders, you sink to your knees, occupying the space between his legs. you take matters into your own hands as they sneak their way to his crotch, feeling up the area in front of you, earning a light groan before you tug at the hem of his clothes and rid them.

you could already tell he’s big, but now? you’re almost taken aback. can all that even fit in your mouth? you trace the vein along the lower side of his length, earning another low noise from him. growing impatient, he grabs a fistful of your hair, guiding you closer to his cock.

you hesitate for a moment, taking in the sight before you. ironically, it’s quite familiar. you've fantasised about moments like this countless times, and now that it's actually happening, it feels almost surreal. you close the remaining distance, your tongue darting out to lick his angry tip, tasting the salty pre-cum that has gathered there. he shudders at the contact, his grip on your hair tightening as he pushes you further onto his shaft.

you finally take him into your mouth, inch by inch. it's a struggle to fit him in, but you carry on nonetheless, saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth as you push him deeper. you start to bob your head up and down, your lips sealed tightly around him as you work your way along his length. sucking on the muscle whilst teasing his tip with your tongue when you have the chance. he’s quite expressive, to your surprise, not trying to cover his noises at all, letting you hear the way you make him feel.

“shit—darlin’, just like that,” he mutters out in between moans. “yer gonna take every fuckin’ inch i give ya, understood?” his hand sneaks around you, grabbing a fistfull of your hair and letting him guide you up and down on his length. every lick, slurp, and bob of your head only pushing him further. you try your best to keep up with his movements, but it only feels like he’s getting bigger by the second. drool pooling at the corners of your mouth as you hollow out your cheeks, trying not to choke on the length fucking your throat.

of course, karasu notices your struggle. he finds it quite amusing, seeing such a pretty thing gag on his dick, trying so hard to impress him. he partially wishes you could see the expression under the ghost mask, but alas, he won’t ruin the immersion just yet. instead, he opts to see just how far you’re willing to take things with him. “look at ya. ya havin’ fun takin’ my cock, pretty?” he teases from above. despite not being able to see the expression playing on his face, you can tell he’s mocking you. although, instead of giving you the chance to whimper around him, he abruptly pulls you away. you let out a gasp, finally able to breathe as you stare up at him with confused eyes.

“what’s wrong, darlin’? ya want my cock in yer mouth that badly?” he pulls you up from off the ground and pushes you onto the bed. “too damn bad. need that slutty cunt suckin’ me dry.” your bare back makes contact with the luxurious bed, enjoying the brief moment of relaxation before the masked man climbs on top of you, making you sink deeper into the mattress. he latches onto you in an instant, hands roaming your body, every touch electric against your skin. he quickly positions himself between your legs, his leaking member pressing against your wet entrance. you can feel the heat radiating from his body, and it's driving you wild.

“ya gonna be mine tonight? gonna make ya mine, pretty,” he growls into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. although, despite his claims, he still teases the area around your hole, prodding his tip against you and collecting the leaking slick. it’s making you desperate, desperate for any touch, any friction, any pleasure. you grind yourself against him, taking anything he’ll give you with a whiny plea, “yes—please karasu, wanna be yours.”

frankly, he’s not too sure why you specifically are driving him wild. after all, you’re just another fangirl, one that coincidentally caught his attention. but the way those words left your mouth, the way you begged him, something inside of him snapped. without giving you time to adjust, he enters you, setting a brutal pace.

“good fuckin’ girl, gonna be my perfect lil’ cumslut,” he’s breathing hard against your neck, even with the mask, you can still feel his hot breath on you. it’s overwhelming—his size, the pain, the pleasure—it’s all driving you insane. the burn from stretching you out still lingering as he picks up the pace, filling you up as much as possible.

he pulls away from your neck to get a good look at you through the mask. you can’t see his eyes, but you can tell his gaze is intense, taking in your every curve. “look at ya, takin’ me so well,” he coos while one of his hands finds their home on your breasts, groping the soft flesh and playing with your hardened peaks. “she’s suckin’ me in so well. ya like being used by me, hm?” any form of coherent response is beyond reason; even thinking straight is a challenge while he’s fucking you dumb on his cock.

his brutal assault continues, and you both eventually reach your orgasm, crashing over you like never before while he pulls out to make a mess all over your stomach. if you weren’t sure before, now you’re certain that he’s the best you’ll ever have. he’s made his space next to you as the two of you lie down and catch your breath together, and you almost don’t want to give him up. unconsciously, you move closer to him, wrapping your arms around his chest. honestly, you expect him to shrug you off, telling you to clean up and go home, but to your surprise, he embraces your touch and even reciprocates it with his own.

the two of you stay like that for quite a while. sweaty, naked and recovering from the intense session. the only thing left to bother you is the mask. considering the situation you’re in is already surreal enough, it won’t hurt to push your luck, right? you lean closer to him, tugging on the fabric part of his mask. “the mask, take it off,” you whisper. you wonder if you’re even audible.

he hears you, shifting his weight to face you. “take it off? not too sure, pretty. if i take it off, yer gonna be stuck with me.” his own hand is now toying with the fabric of the scream mask. “ya want that, darlin’?”

instead of answering him verbally, you let your actions speak louder. reaching over him to take off his mask, regarding it to the floor of his suite. you’re completely taken aback by the view in front of you. he’s panting, his hair is down and all messy, and he might even be blushing. but in your eyes, he looks fucking divine. frankly, you could take him then and there again and he seems to pick up on that, pulling you on top of him and claiming your mouth for the first time tonight. the way he kisses you is heavenly, like you're the only woman on this planet.

“gonna have to go back on my words, darlin’. looks like yer mine forever now.”

taglist: @ryescapades @143-ilyuu @maruflix @pixelcafe-network, @o-sachi

©lumis kinktober 24' ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[arilevenatz]

Ironheart

Pairing: captain!hongjoong x reader

Genre: Angst, action

Word count: 13.3k

Warnings: Child Abuse, Blood, injury, graphic Description of Injury, gore, pirate king hongjoong, lethal face card of the cameos (there will be two surprise cameos)

A/N: so yeah captain hongjoong is here. Not gonna lie, I cried while writing this. It has been in the back of my mind for a long time and I have finally written it.I don't know if it's good or not you guys will be the judge of that! and please like and reblog, it really motivates me to write, thank you!!

The sea was a vast expanse of restless waves and ominous clouds as the pirate ship Halazia sliced through the water like a predator on the hunt. Its sails, black as midnight, bore a crimson emblem—a snarling dragon that struck fear into the hearts of all who dared cross its path. At the helm stood the notorious Captain Hongjoong, a name whispered in fear across the seven seas.

Draped in a long, tattered coat with gold embroidery, Hongjoong’s piercing eyes glimmered with a mix of cunning and menace. His voice, sharp as the crack of a whip, commanded respect—or death. To defy him was to invite the unforgiving depths of the ocean.

The Halazia's crew, a motley band of cutthroats and thieves, worked with disciplined chaos. They revered Hongjoong, not out of loyalty, but out of fear. He was a man who showed no mercy; betrayal was met with the sharp edge of his blade, and failure was punished with cold indifference.

“Land ahead, Captain!” called Yunho, the ship’s navigator, from the crow’s nest.

Hongjoong’s lips curled into a sinister grin. “Prepare to drop anchor,” he barked. “Tonight, we take what’s ours.”

The crew scrambled, each man knowing his role as the captain’s plan unfolded. The small port town ahead was quiet, its people unaware of the storm about to descend upon them. Hongjoong’s reputation was built on raids like this—swift, brutal, and leaving nothing but ruin in his wake.

Below deck, the Halazia's armory gleamed with weapons. Seonghwa, the ship's relentless quartermaster, handed out cutlasses and pistols to the crew. “Make it quick and clean,” he growled. “The captain doesn’t like loose ends.”

As the Halazia approached the shore under the cover of darkness, Hongjoong unsheathed his sword, its blade catching the faint light of the moon. His voice cut through the night like a blade.

“Tonight, we remind the world why the name Halazia is whispered with terror.”

The crew roared in agreement, their bloodlust ignited. For Hongjoong, it wasn’t just about gold or glory—it was about power. And no one, not kings or gods, would stand in his way.

The Halazia glided silently into the small port under the shroud of night. The unsuspecting town, nestled on the edge of the island, was quiet save for the distant crash of waves against the shore. Its residents were blissfully unaware that terror had arrived at their doorstep.

“Lower the anchor,” Seonghwa ordered in a hushed tone, his sharp eyes scanning the darkened town. The crew worked swiftly, the only sounds were the creak of ropes and the splash of water.

Hongjoong stepped onto the gangplank, his boots striking the wood with deliberate force. “No mercy,” he commanded, his voice cold and unforgiving. “Take everything. Leave nothing behind.”

Yunho and Mingi led the first group ashore, their movements swift and calculated. Mingi’s massive frame carried crates of supplies with ease, while Yunho mapped their route through the maze of narrow streets.

Wooyoung darted through the shadows, his nimble hands prying open doors and snatching valuables with practiced ease. He hummed a quiet tune to himself, a stark contrast to the fear he left in his wake.

San, ever eager for a fight, kicked down the door of the local tavern, sending its patrons scrambling. “Hand it over, or face me!” he roared, his blade gleaming in the dim light.

Jongho remained by the cannons, his sharp eyes fixed on the town. He was ready to unleash hellfire at the first sign of resistance, though he doubted any would dare.

Yeosang followed the raiding party at a measured pace, his medical kit in hand. He had no illusions about the chaos that would ensue, and he was prepared to patch up the crew—or anyone foolish enough to stand in their way.

By the time the town's alarm bell clanged in desperation, it was too late. The Halazia's crew moved like a storm, looting every corner of the town. Gold, food, weapons—nothing was spared.

Hongjoong stood in the center of the chaos, his sword drawn, a chilling smile playing on his lips. The flames of a burning warehouse reflected in his eyes as he declared, “Let this be a lesson to all who think themselves safe. The sea belongs to us.”

As dawn approached, the Halazia sailed away, its hold overflowing with stolen treasures. Behind them, the once-thriving town was left in smoldering ruins, its people haunted by the memory of the dragon-emblazoned sails.

As the first rays of morning sun illuminated the island of Aphynx, its streets bore the grim evidence of the night’s raid. Doors hung off their hinges, market stalls lay in splinters, and the blackened remains of a warehouse sent tendrils of smoke spiraling into the pale sky. The townsfolk gathered in silence, their faces etched with disbelief and despair.

In the center of the town, Mayor paced nervously, his finely embroidered coat now stained with soot and sweat. His eyes darted over the wreckage, his mind racing. Every crate of provisions, every ounce of gold, every weapon had been stripped away. Aphynx was defenseless, vulnerable, and utterly at the mercy of the sea.

“This was no ordinary band of thieves,” he muttered, clutching a scroll of parchment in his trembling hands. “It was them... the crew of Halazia.”

A young messenger arrived, breathless and pale. “Sir, the kingdom must be informed,” he urged. “Without help from Wonderland, we won’t survive another raid.”

Mayor nodded grimly. He knew there was no time to waste. “Prepare my fastest horse,” he commanded. “We ride to the capital immediately.”

By midmorning, the mayor and his escort departed, the sound of hooves echoing through the barren streets. Their destination: Wonderland, the kingdom under whose banner Aphynx pledged fealty. The crown would not take this insult lightly—piracy threatened their trade routes, their reputation, and their wealth.

As the mayor approached the towering gates of Wonderland’s capital city, he steeled himself for the audience with the royal court. He would demand justice, but deep down, he feared that even the kingdom’s might might not be enough to face the legendary Halazia and its fearsome captain.

The kingdom of Wonderland stood as a beacon of strength and unity, its influence stretching across the seven seas. Its towering white walls and majestic spires reflected the brilliance of its rule, and its bustling streets were a testament to the prosperity its people enjoyed. At the heart of this mighty kingdom sat King Eldred, a ruler beloved by his people for his wisdom, fairness, and unwavering commitment to protecting his land.

But what truly set Wonderland apart was its secret weapon: the Nishi. These elite warriors operated in the shadows, their faces concealed behind eerie white masks with two eye slits. The sight of a Nishi was both reassuring and terrifying—they were symbols of the kingdom’s unyielding resolve and its ability to strike from the shadows. Trained in combat, strategy, and espionage, the Nishi were unmatched on the battlefield and in the murky world of subterfuge.

As Mayor Alden stood before King Eldred in the grand throne room, flanked by banners bearing the kingdom’s sigil, he recounted the horrors of the raid. “Your Majesty, Aphynx has been stripped bare,” Alden pleaded, bowing low. “The people have nothing. The Halazia will return unless we act swiftly.”

King Eldred leaned forward on his throne, his sharp eyes narrowing as he processed the report. “The Halazia,” he repeated, his voice measured. “Captain Hongjoong and his crew dare to challenge Wonderland’s peace.”

From the shadows, a figure emerged, silent and imposing. The Nishi wore their signature mask, their presence sending a chill through the room. “Shall we mobilize, Your Majesty?” the Nishi asked in a calm, almost mechanical tone.

The king rose to his feet, his regal robes flowing around him like the waves of the sea. “Not yet,” he declared. “The Halazia is cunning, and we will not be drawn into a hasty response. I want information—where they’ve gone, who their allies are, and what they seek.”

He turned to the Nishi. “Deploy your finest. Track the Halazia. And when the time comes, we will remind the pirates why Wonderland is unchallenged on the seas.”

The masked figure bowed and disappeared as silently as they had arrived. The king’s gaze returned to Alden. “Fear not, Mayor,” Eldred assured him. “Aphynx will be avenged, and the Halazia will pay for its crimes.”

A few days after the raid on Aphynx, the Halazia anchored in a secluded cove to divide their spoils. The crew was in high spirits, reveling in their success, but the mood shifted when a small, unmarked vessel approached their ship under a flag of truce.

A lone messenger, dressed in simple but pristine clothes, was rowed aboard. He carried a scroll sealed with the royal insignia of Wonderland. The sight of the mark immediately put the crew on edge.

Seonghwa was the first to intercept the messenger, his sharp eyes scanning the man for signs of treachery. “State your business,” he demanded coldly.

The messenger bowed respectfully, his voice steady. “I come with a message from His Majesty, King Eldred of Wonderland.”

Hongjoong, seated on a barrel nearby, motioned for Seonghwa to step aside. “Give it here,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding. The messenger handed him the scroll with trembling hands.

Breaking the seal, Hongjoong unrolled the parchment. His eyes scanned the elegant script:

> To Captain Hongjoong of the Halazia,

The Kingdom of Wonderland invites you to discuse the recent events at Aphynx. We believe diplomacy may resolve this matter without further bloodshed or hostility.

You are offered safe passage to the island of Eletheris, where a representative of Wonderland will await you.

We hope you will consider this opportunity to avoid unnecessary conflict.

Signed,

His Majesty King Eldred*

Hongjoong’s lips curled into a faint smirk as he handed the letter to Seonghwa. “Diplomacy?” he mused. “From Wonderland? Either they’ve grown soft, or they’re planning something.”

San, ever eager for confrontation, crossed his arms and scowled. “It’s a trap. No kingdom invites pirates to talk unless they’ve got blades hidden behind their backs.”

Mingi, thoughtful but cautious, shrugged. “Could be a way to buy time. They might not know where we are and want to stall while they gather their forces.”

Wooyoung, leaning against a mast with a sly grin, added, “Or maybe they’re scared of us. That raid shook them up.”

Seonghwa handed the letter to Yunho, who studied it carefully. “The location is Eletheris,” Yunho noted. “Neutral ground, but also isolated. Perfect for an ambush.”

Jongho, standing by the cannons, spoke up in his usual calm tone. “We should assume the worst. If we go, we prepare for a fight.”

Hongjoong tapped his fingers on the hilt of his sword, deep in thought. Finally, he stood. “We’ll go,” he decided, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the crew. “If Wonderland wants to talk, we’ll give them a show. But we’ll be ready for anything.”

A sinister grin spread across his face as he turned to Seonghwa. “Prepare the ship. We’ll make our move at nightfall.”

The crew exchanged uneasy glances, but none dared question their captain. Suspicious as they were, they trusted Hongjoong’s instincts. The Halazia would sail for Eletheris—not for peace, but for the opportunity to show Wonderland just how dangerous a cornered pirate could be.

As the crew debated the letter, Yeosang emerged from below deck, wiping his hands clean with a cloth. His sharp eyes scanned the gathered group, noting the tension in the air.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his calm voice cutting through the discussion.

Seonghwa handed him the letter without a word. Yeosang read it quickly, his expression unreadable. “An invitation to ‘talk,’” he said, his tone skeptical. He folded the parchment carefully and looked at Hongjoong.

“If this is a trap, which it likely is, I hope you’ve accounted for the injuries we might sustain. I’m running low on supplies after Aphynx, and if Wonderland has their warriors, this won’t be a simple skirmish.”

Hongjoong’s smirk remained steady as he met Yeosang’s gaze, his voice laced with confidence. “Prepare for the worst, but we’re not backing down.”

Yeosang nodded, handing the letter back to Seonghwa. “I’ll do what I can. Just try not to get yourselves killed unnecessarily. I’d rather not have to stitch anyone back together because of bad decisions.”

With that, he turned and disappeared below deck again, leaving the others to their discussion.

The Halazia arrived at Eletheris under the cover of twilight, its black sails stark against the fading light. The crew stood ready, their hands brushing weapons as they prepared for whatever awaited them. The island, a neutral ground known for its wild forests and rocky shores, seemed unusually quiet as they approached the dock.

As the crew disembarked, they were met by a contingent of Wonderland’s warriors. At the forefront stood a tall, imposing man clad in gleaming armor, a crimson cloak flowing behind him. His sharp features radiated authority, and his piercing gaze swept over the pirates like a hawk assessing prey.

“I am General Kael of Wonderland,” the man announced, his voice steady and commanding. “Welcome to Eletheris, Captain Hongjoong. His Majesty extends his gratitude for your willingness to meet.”

Behind Kael stood a line of warriors, their stances disciplined, their weapons polished to a deadly sheen. Among them were four figures that immediately caught the pirates’ attention—the Nishi.

Clad in flowing black cloaks, their white masks with two eye slits were hauntingly featureless. The presence of the Nishi sent a ripple of unease through the Halazia's crew.

Hongjoong stepped forward, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “A grand welcome for pirates,” he remarked with a faint smirk. “I wonder if this is hospitality or intimidation.”

Kael’s lips curled into a small, humorless smile. “Perhaps a little of both. The king values peace, but Wonderland does not take threats lightly.”

Seonghwa exchanged a glance with Hongjoong, his hand hovering near his sword. San, standing nearby, muttered under his breath, “They’re itching for a fight.”

Kael gestured inland, toward a path that wound through dense forest. “His Majesty awaits you at the royal outpost further inland. You will be escorted there. I trust you and your crew will conduct yourselves appropriately.”

Hongjoong inclined his head, his smirk unyielding. “Lead the way, General.”

As the crew followed the warriors into the forest, the Nishi flanked them silently, their presence a constant reminder of Wonderland’s power. The forest was thick and eerily quiet, save for the crunch of boots on the dirt path.

Yeosang walked near the rear of the group, his gaze flickering between the Nishi. “If this is a trap, they’ve gone to great lengths to set it,” he murmured to Seonghwa.

Seonghwa nodded subtly. “Stay sharp. If they wanted us dead, they’d have done it already. This is a show of strength.”

As they neared the outpost, the imposing silhouette of a fortified structure came into view. Wonderland was not just extending an invitation—it was making a statement.

As the crew of the Halazia trudged along the forest path, flanked by the silent Nishi and Wonderland’s warriors, tension hung thick in the air. Despite their outward composure, the pirates exchanged quiet whispers, their curiosity about the masked figures overwhelming their usual bravado.

Wooyoung leaned closer to Yunho, his voice barely audible. “What’s with the creepy masks? Who walks around like that?”

Yunho shrugged, his brow furrowed. “I’ve heard rumors, but nothing solid. Some say the Nishi are assassins, trained from birth to kill without hesitation.”

San, walking ahead, glanced back with a scoff. “Assassins? They look more like ghosts. It’s the quiet ones you’ve got to watch out for.”

Mingi, ever the practical one, muttered, “I’ve never seen anyone move like them. It’s unnatural. Did you see how they didn’t make a sound, even on the dock?”

Jongho, his tone calm but wary, added, “If Wonderland brought four of them here, they must be expecting trouble. No kingdom wastes resources like that for a simple meeting.”

Seonghwa, catching their murmurs, spoke softly but firmly. “Focus. Whatever they are, we’re not here to fight them. Not yet.”

Yeosang, his keen eyes studying the Nishi out of the corner of his vision, finally chimed in. “I’ve heard whispers in ports about them,” he said. “The Nishi are Wonderland’s shadow—their secret weapon. They’re not just warriors; they’re spies, assassins, and strategists. Their masks are said to symbolize detachment from emotion. No mercy, no hesitation.”

Wooyoung shivered, his usual smirk replaced by unease. “Sounds like a nightmare. You think they’re human under those masks?”

Yeosang gave him a faint, enigmatic smile. “Human, yes. But how much humanity is left in them? That’s another question.”

Hongjoong, walking slightly ahead, glanced back at the group with a sharp look. “Enough,” he said, his voice low but commanding. “Whatever they are, we’ll deal with them if we have to. Until then, keep your wits about you. Wonderland’s trying to intimidate us, and we won’t give them the satisfaction.”

The crew fell silent, their unease replaced by steely determination. The Nishi remained as still and silent as statues, their masks giving nothing away, but the pirates knew one thing for sure: they had entered a world far more dangerous than they’d imagined.

The grand hall of Wonderland's palace was an imposing sight, with high arches and intricate tapestries adorning the walls. The crew of the Halazia stood before King Eldred, whose presence filled the room with an unspoken weight. His regal attire shimmered in the light of the chandeliers, his eyes sharp and calculating as he regarded the pirates.

"Captain Hongjoong, welcome to Wonderland," King Eldred said in a calm, steady voice, his gaze briefly sweeping over the crew before settling on their leader. "You've been quite the thorn in my side. But I believe diplomacy is the best course now."

Hongjoong, arms crossed, met the king's gaze with a wry smile. "I'd agree, Your Majesty. But let's not pretend this is anything but a show of power. You want to make sure we don't think we can walk away from this, don't you?"

Before King Eldred could respond, a sudden movement drew the attention of everyone in the room. A man-seemingly a servant-lunged toward the king with a dagger in his hand. The room fell into stunned silence as the assassin's target became clear.

But before anyone could act, one of the Nishi moved with blinding speed. In a single motion, the Nishi unsheathed a gleaming blade and, with flawless precision, cut the assassin's hand clean off at the wrist. The dagger fell to the floor, and the man screamed in agony, collapsing to the ground as blood pooled beneath him.

The Nishi stood motionless, their white mask revealing nothing-no satisfaction, no hesitation, just cold efficiency. Without a word, the other Nishi advanced, securing the would-be assassin and dragging him away, the severity of the moment leaving no room for mercy.

The room remained still, the only sound the heavy breathing of the wounded man as he was pulled out of the hall. King Eldred, unfazed by the attempt on his life, turned his eyes back to Hongjoong.

"Do not mistake this for weakness, Captain," Eldred said, his voice unwavering. "My kingdom is protected by those who do not falter, no matter the circumstances."

Hongjoong's gaze shifted to the Nishi, his interest piqued. He had seen many warriors in his time- skilled men and women, each formidable in their own right-but the way the Nishi moved, the speed, the precision-it was something entirely different. These were not mere soldiers. They were something else.

"The Nishi," Hongjoong mused, his voice low enough only for his crew to hear. "What are they? You say they protect this kingdom, but what are they truly?"

Seonghwa, standing beside him, spoke quietly. "Rumors. They're said to be more than just fighters. Spies. Assassins. Trained from the moment they can walk."

Hongjoong's eyes flicked back to the Nishi, who stood motionless at the king's side. His curiosity deepened. "Trained from birth... and no emotion. Just warriors without hesitation."

Yeosang, who had been silently observing the Nishi, nodded. "That's what they say. They wear those masks for a reason-to erase any trace of humanity. They're tools, not people."

Hongjoong's smirk returned, though it was tinged with something new-respect, perhaps even admiration. "Fascinating," he said quietly. "They're more than just soldiers. They are something beyond. And it seems Wonderland's power lies in them.”

King Eldred observed the pirates with a slight tilt of his head. "Indeed. The Nishi are the foundation of my kingdom's strength. Without them, Wonderland would be but a memory. And now, Captain, I suggest we return to the matter at hand."

Hongjoong's gaze lingered on the Nishi, but he returned his focus to the king. "Of course. Let's talk."

But as he spoke, the feeling in the room shifted. There was an unspoken understanding now, one that Hongjoong had picked up on, and he couldn't shake the thought: Wonderland had more to offer than riches. Its true strength was in its shadows- the Nishi. And that, more than anything else, was what intrigued him.

The grand hall of Wonderland fell into a tense silence after the attack on the king, the lingering unease palpable. The pirates stood with guarded expressions, while King Eldred’s steady gaze remained fixed on Hongjoong. The Nishi, ever silent, returned to their posts, their white masks as unreadable as ever.

The king cleared his throat. “Captain Hongjoong, let us return to the reason we are here. Your recent actions on Aphynx have caused great suffering. Wonderland cannot allow such acts to continue.”

Hongjoong, unshaken, stepped forward, his tone casual yet laced with authority. “You want us to stop raiding your lands? That’s fair, Your Majesty. But pirates don’t sail away empty-handed. If you want our respect, you’ll have to offer something in return.”

Eldred’s jaw tightened. “And what is it you seek, Captain? Gold? Resources? Wonderland is not a kingdom that barters with thieves.”

Hongjoong smirked, his gaze shifting to the Nishi. “I don’t want your gold, Your Majesty. I want your shadows—your Nishi.”

The hall erupted into murmurs, and even the ever-stoic Nishi seemed to shift slightly. King Eldred’s expression darkened, his voice rising. “You dare demand my kingdom’s most sacred protectors? The Nishi are not pawns to be traded!”

Hongjoong didn’t flinch, his smirk unwavering. “You want us to stop touching Eletheris and your other territories? Then give me three of your Nishi. And not just any—I want the best. Warriors who can ensure my enemies fear the Halazia as much as they fear Wonderland.”

The king leaned forward, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the arms of his throne. “Do you think I would sell my kingdom’s greatest weapon to a pirate? You overestimate your position.”

Seonghwa, calm and calculating, stepped in. “Your Majesty, consider this: Wonderland’s resources remain untouched, and the Halazia becomes an ally rather than an enemy. You lose nothing, but gain peace.”

The king hesitated, the weight of the decision evident on his face. He turned his gaze to General Kael, who stood at his side. “What do you make of this?”

Kael frowned, his voice low. “Risky, but tactically sound. Better to have them as allies than adversaries.”

Eldred’s eyes returned to Hongjoong, his reluctance clear. “You ask for much, Captain. The Nishi are not merely soldiers. They are trained from birth, their loyalty bound to Wonderland alone.”

Hongjoong’s smirk softened into something more serious. “I don’t need their loyalty, Your Majesty. I need their skill. Three Nishi, and I swear Wonderland’s lands will never again know the Halazia’s wrath.”

The king sat back, his expression one of defeat. “Very well,” he said reluctantly. “But you will not choose. I will decide which Nishi to send.”

Hongjoong’s smirk returned. “No, Your Majesty. If I’m to trust my life and crew to them, I will choose. Send me your best, or the deal is off.”

Eldred’s fists clenched, but he finally nodded, his voice heavy with resignation. “You will have your three Nishi. But know this, Captain: should you betray this agreement, their blades will be the first to find your throat.”

Hongjoong chuckled, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “We'll see about that.”

The crew of the Halazia had been granted an unexpected stay in Wonderland, a rare opportunity to explore the fabled kingdom and observe its famed Nishi up close. The palace guards kept a watchful eye on the pirates, but Hongjoong and his crew were far from intimidated.

On the second morning, they were led to a large training arena within the palace grounds. The space was surrounded by high walls and overlooked by balconies, where nobles and soldiers often gathered to witness the Nishi in action.

“This,” General Kael announced as the pirates entered, “is where you will decide. The Nishi you seek are among the finest we have. Observe them well.”

The Nishi, clad in their signature black cloaks and white masks, were already in the arena, demonstrating their skills. They moved with an elegance that was almost otherworldly, their swords flashing in the sunlight as they sparred. Each strike was calculated, every movement a testament to their rigorous training.

Hongjoong watched with keen interest, his arms crossed as he leaned casually against a stone pillar. His sharp eyes darted from one Nishi to another, assessing their movements, their precision, and their lethality.

“These aren’t just warriors,” he murmured to Seonghwa, who stood beside him. “They’re artists of war.”

Seonghwa nodded, his gaze fixed on the display. “Efficient. Deadly. They don’t waste energy or time. You’re choosing weapons, not people.”

San, standing nearby, grinned. “Weapons or not, I wouldn’t mind seeing what they’re like in a real fight. Sparring’s one thing. The heat of battle’s another.”

Yeosang, ever observant, added, “Their discipline is unmatched. But loyalty is another matter entirely. They’ve lived their lives for Wonderland. You think they’ll follow us?”

Hongjoong’s smirk returned. “They don’t need to follow us. They need to obey orders. And I intend to make sure they see the Halazia as worthy of their blades.”

As the demonstration continued, one Nishi stood out. Their movements were impossibly fluid, their strikes faster and more precise than the others. Even among the elite, this figure commanded attention.

“That one,” Jongho said, his tone firm. “They’re the one I’d trust in a fight.”

Wooyoung tilted his head, watching another Nishi with blade, who moved with a deadly rhythm. “I like that one. Quick, unpredictable. My kind of chaos.”

Mingi, ever practical, gestured toward a Nishi with a massive glaive. “That one’s strength could turn the tide in a skirmish. We need power as much as speed.”

Hongjoong listened to his crew’s observations, his mind already working. He approached General Kael, his smirk never wavering. “We’ll need more time to observe. But I already have a few in mind.”

Kael nodded stiffly. “Take your time. The king’s orders are clear—you may choose three. But remember, Captain, they are not yours to break. They serve Wonderland first.”

Hongjoong chuckled, his gaze drifting back to the arena. “We’ll see about that.”

The days passed with the pirates watching the Nishi train, each session revealing more of their deadly skills. By the end of their stay, Hongjoong and his crew were ready to make their choices—Nishi who would become part of the Halazia’s legend, and perhaps its greatest weapon.

As the sparring sessions continued, Hongjoong’s sharp eyes scanned the arena, observing the Nishi with a mix of curiosity and calculated intent. His crew murmured among themselves, pointing out impressive maneuvers or debating the merits of strength versus speed.

But then, something—or rather, someone—caught Hongjoong’s attention.

Standing at the far edge of the arena, away from the other Nishi, was a lone figure. The Nishi wasn’t participating in the training but instead stood silently, its posture rigid, observing the others much like Hongjoong and his crew. The way it leaned slightly, arms crossed, almost mirrored Hongjoong’s stance.

This one wasn’t like the others. Its stillness was different—not passive, but deliberate. The air around it seemed to hum with an invisible tension, as if it were assessing not just the Nishi in the arena but the pirates themselves.

Hongjoong tilted his head, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. “Who’s that?” he asked, his voice cutting through his crew’s chatter.

General Kael followed Hongjoong’s gaze and frowned. “Ah, that one. It is not a combatant today. A senior Nishi, more involved in leadership and strategy.”

“Leadership?” Hongjoong’s curiosity deepened. “What’s its name?”

Kael hesitated. “Nishi do not use names. They are referred to by rank or designation.”

“Then give me its rank,” Hongjoong pressed, looking bored.

“Second Blade,” Kael said reluctantly. “One of the most skilled among them. But it is not intended for this... arrangement.”

Hongjoong’s interest was piqued further. The detached aura of the Second Blade, combined with its air of quiet authority, intrigued him in a way no other Nishi had. There was something magnetic about the figure—a mystery that demanded unraveling.

“That one,” Hongjoong declared, pointing at the Second Blade. “It’ll be my first choice.”

The general’s expression darkened. “Second Blade is not for sale, Captain. It serves the king directly.”

Hongjoong’s smirk widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You said I could choose. And I choose it. If the king values peace with the Halazia, he’ll agree.”

Kael stiffened but said nothing, knowing this matter would ultimately fall to the king.

The Second Blade, as if sensing the attention, turned its masked face toward Hongjoong. Even with no visible expression, the intensity of its gaze was palpable. For a moment, the pirate captain and the enigmatic Nishi seemed locked in a silent exchange, one that neither his crew nor the other warriors could decipher.

“I like it,” Hongjoong said, more to himself than anyone else. “There’s something about it. A spark I haven’t seen in anyone else here.”

Seonghwa, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure about this? It doesn’t seem like the type to take orders easily.”

Hongjoong chuckled. “That’s what makes it interesting. I want the best, and that one’s the best.”

As the pirates continued to watch, Hongjoong knew he had made his decision. He wanted the Second Blade—not just as a warrior for the Halazia but as a puzzle to solve, a force to understand. And he wouldn’t leave Wonderland without it.

After days of observing the Nishi, the Halazia crew finalized their choices. True to Hongjoong’s word, the first pick was the enigmatic Second Blade, the senior Nishi who had caught the captain’s eye with its silent yet commanding presence. The other two selections were equally skilled—strong, agile warriors with ranks just below the Second Blade.

When General Kael informed the chosen Nishi of their new roles, the Second Blade simply nodded, its white mask betraying no reaction. The other two Nishi, larger and imposing, accepted the news with quiet compliance.

As the three assembled before the pirates for their departure preparations, something became strikingly apparent.

“Wait a minute,” Mingi said, breaking the silence. He squinted at the lineup, tilting his head as if trying to reconcile what he was seeing. “Is it just me, or is that one... shorter?”

The crew turned their gazes toward the Second Blade, and sure enough, it stood a full head shorter than the other two Nishi.

Wooyoung snickered, elbowing San. “You picked the shortest one, Captain. Thought you were all about power and presence.”

San crossed his arms, frowning slightly. “Size doesn’t matter if it can fight. You all saw what it did to that attacker in the throne room. Fast and precise.”

“It’s true,” Jongho added, his voice calm but analytical. “Height isn’t everything. If anything, it might make it more agile.”

Still, the contrast was hard to ignore. The Second Blade’s stature seemed almost diminutive next to the hulking forms of the other two Nishi. Yet, despite its smaller frame, there was something undeniably commanding about it.

Hongjoong, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally smirked. “You’re all looking at this the wrong way. It’s not about size. It’s about presence. And that one,” he gestured toward the Second Blade, “has more presence than anyone else here.”

The crew exchanged glances but didn’t argue. They’d seen enough to trust their captain’s instincts, even if the choice seemed unconventional.

Yeosang, ever the practical observer, leaned toward Seonghwa and murmured, “Smaller frame or not, it’s still the most intriguing of the three. The way it carries itself... it’s like it’s always thinking three steps ahead.”

Seonghwa nodded in agreement. “If anything, the contrast makes it even more dangerous. People underestimate what they don’t fully understand.”

As the crew prepared to leave Wonderland with their new recruits, the Second Blade remained as silent and enigmatic as ever. Despite its shorter stature, it exuded an undeniable authority that seemed to silence any lingering doubts.

Hongjoong glanced back at it one last time before boarding the Halazia, his smirk growing wider. “Short or not, you’re exactly what I was looking for.”

In the dimly lit barracks where the Nishi rested, the Second Blade stood by a window, its white mask catching the faint moonlight. Across the room, the two newly chosen Nishi, seungcheol and Mingyu, sat on a bench, their masks placed neatly beside them.

Seungcheol, the elder of the two, crossed his arms, his brows furrowed as he broke the silence. “I don’t understand it. Of all the Nishi, why pick you first?” His tone wasn’t hostile, but there was an unmistakable hint of curiosity.

Mingyu, chuckled softly. “Come on, Seungcheol. It’s obvious, isn’t it? The captain likes the mysterious ones. Second Blade’s got that whole ‘silent and deadly��� vibe going on. You can’t compete with that.”

The Second Blade turned slightly, its masked face tilted as if considering whether to respond. After a moment, it spoke, its voice low and measured. “The choice was the captain’s. Not mine. Does it bother you?”

seungcheol sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not really. I just think it’s strange. You don’t even interact with anyone, and suddenly, you’re the captain’s favorite.” He leaned back against the wall, his gaze narrowing. “But I guess that’s part of the appeal, huh?”

Mingyu grinned, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Honestly, I’m just glad I got picked. Can you imagine staying here, doing the same drills every day, while the three of us get to see the world? Feels like a promotion to me.”

seungcheol rolled his eyes. “You would see it that way.”

Mingyu shrugged. “What? It’s true. Besides, the Halazia crew seems... interesting. They’re not exactly the kind of people we’re used to, but they’ve got their own kind of charm.”

The Second Blade returned its gaze to the window. “They are unpredictable. That makes them dangerous.”

“Dangerous to us?” seungcheol asked, his tone more serious now.

“To everyone,” the Second Blade replied, its voice calm but firm. “But that is why we were chosen. To ensure their chaos is controlled.”

Mingyu leaned back, resting his arms on the bench. “Controlled, huh? I don’t think those pirates are the type to take orders. Especially not from us.”

The Second Blade turned fully now, its posture straight and commanding despite its smaller frame. “Then we adapt. As we always have.”

seungcheol watched it closely, his expression softening. “You’re really something, aren’t you? No hesitation. No second-guessing. You just... do.”

Mingyu nodded, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, that’s what makes it so cool. Honestly, I think we’ll learn a lot from this one. Even if it’s shorter than both of us.”

seungcheol snorted, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Don’t let the captain hear you say that. He might have your head.”

The Second Blade didn’t react to the teasing, instead walking toward the exit. Before it stepped out, it paused and said, “Rest while you can. Tomorrow, everything changes.”

As it left the room, seungcheol leaned toward Mingyu, his voice low. “I’m not sure if I admire it or if it gives me the creeps.”

Mingyu laughed, patting seungcheol on the shoulder. “Why not both? Keeps things interesting.”

The two fell into a comfortable silence, both wondering what lay ahead as the newest recruits of the Halazia.

The following morning, the Halazia crew and their newly acquired Nishi stood at the gates of Wonderland, preparing for departure. The Second Blade stood slightly apart from seungcheol and Mingyu, as stoic and silent as ever, its mask firmly in place.

The pirates were busy securing their belongings and discussing the logistics of integrating the Nishi into their operations. Hongjoong, however, couldn’t shake the lingering curiosity he felt toward the Second Blade. Something about it was different—unreadable, yes, but also magnetic in a way he couldn’t explain.

As the group prepared to board the Halazia, Hongjoong lingered near the Second Blade, his curiosity still piqued. He turned to her, gesturing for her attention. “Second Blade,” he said, his tone casual but firm, “before we leave, there’s something I need to clarify. You’ve barely spoken a word since we met. Let’s change that.”

The Second Blade paused, tilting its masked head slightly, and finally spoke. “What do you wish to clarify, Captain?”

The voice caught everyone’s attention. It was soft yet sharp, calm yet commanding—a voice that held the kind of authority forged through years of discipline. But what stood out most was its unmistakable femininity.

Hongjoong’s eyes widened briefly before his expression settled into his usual smirk. “Well, well. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Mingi, standing nearby, blinked in surprise. “Wait a second... That's a woman?”

A crew member laughed nervously. “A woman? On a pirate ship? Isn’t that, like... bad luck or something?”

The atmosphere tensed for a moment as some of the crew exchanged uncertain glances.

Another chimed in, “I’ve heard the stories. Women on ships are supposed to bring misfortune.”

Before anyone could respond, Hongjoong’s voice cut through the murmurs like a blade. “Enough.”

The crew fell silent as their captain stepped forward, his sharp gaze sweeping over them. “Bad luck? Misfortune? Since when have we, the crew of the Halazia, believed in such pathetic superstitions?”

He turned to them, his smirk hardening into a glare. “Do you think the Halazia have survived storms, battles, and betrayals because of luck? No. We’ve made it this far because we’re the best. And I’ll take anyone who proves their worth—man or woman.”

Hongjoong’s gaze then shifted to the Second Blade. “And this one? This one’s already proven it’s better than half of you just by standing there. So unless you’d like to challenge that, I suggest you keep your mouths shut.”

Wooyoung scratched the back of his neck, glancing at the Second Blade. “Honestly, after seeing her fight, I’m not about to argue.”

Hongjoong turned back to the Second Blade, his smirk returning. “You’ve already got my respect, Second Blade. And that’s not something I give out lightly.”

The Second Blade inclined her head slightly, her voice calm and unbothered. “Respect is earned, not given. I will continue to prove myself, Captain.”

Hongjoong chuckled, stepping back. “I like you, Second Blade. You’re full of surprises. But if you’re going to serve on the Halazia, you’ll need a name. I can’t keep calling you by rank.”

She hesitated, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her. Finally, she said, “Call me whatever you wish. It makes no difference to me.”

Hongjoong’s smirk widened. “Then I’ll think of something fitting. Welcome aboard, Second Blade.”

She inclined her head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment.

As the crew of the Halazia made their final preparations to set sail, the Nishi stood off to the side, silent and unreadable. Seungcheol and Mingyu exchanged glances, each wondering what life aboard the infamous pirate ship would hold for them. The Second Blade, as calm and composed as ever, remained still, watching the pirates as they moved about with practiced efficiency.

Hongjoong returned to the main deck, his sharp eyes scanning his crew. “Alright, let’s get moving. Wonderland’s hospitality is wearing thin, and I’d rather not linger where too many eyes are watching.”

The crew murmured in agreement, their movements quick and purposeful as they cast off from the docks.

Seungcheol leaned slightly toward Mingyu, his voice low. “This crew is... different. They don’t seem to operate on any rules I’m familiar with.”

Mingyu shrugged, his tone light but curious. “That’s what makes it exciting, don’t you think? We’ve been stuck in Wonderland for too long. It’s about time we see how the rest of the world works.”

The Second Blade didn’t join the conversation, but its masked face tilted ever so slightly, suggesting it was listening.

As the ship drifted farther from the port, Hongjoong approached the three Nishi. “I’ll be clear with you now. You’re no longer in Wonderland. On this ship, you follow my orders. I don’t care about ranks, titles, or protocols from your past. You’re part of my crew now, and that means loyalty to me and me alone.”

Seungcheol and Mingyu nodded in unison, their movements precise and obedient. The Second Blade simply inclined its head again, its silence speaking volumes.

San, standing nearby, crossed his arms as he eyed the trio. “Can they fight in real battles, though? Wonderland’s training is one thing, but out here, it’s chaos.”

Hongjoong didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned to the Second Blade. “What do you think? Can you handle the chaos of the seas?”

The Second Blade’s voice was calm and unwavering. “Chaos is an opportunity. It reveals the weaknesses of those unprepared. I have no intention of being unprepared.”

Mingyu chuckled under his breath. “I think that’s the most poetic way I’ve ever heard someone say ‘yes.’”

Seungcheol shot him a look, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Hongjoong smirked, clearly satisfied. “Good. Then let’s see how you adapt to life on the Halazia. You’ll have plenty of chances to prove yourselves.”

As the ship gained speed, Wooyoung called from the galley, “Captain! If they’re part of the crew now, they better learn how we eat. Mingyu looks like he could finish off the week’s rations in one sitting!”

Mingyu glanced toward Wooyoung, his posture relaxed. “Only if your cooking’s as good as you claim.”

Wooyoung grinned, leaning out the doorway. “You’ll regret challenging me, rookie. Dinner’s in a few hours. Let’s see if you survive it.”

The crew laughed, the tension from the earlier departure easing. The Nishi, while still enigmatic, were beginning to feel less like outsiders and more like the newest pieces of the Halazia’s puzzle.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Hongjoong stood at the helm, his eyes flickering between the horizon and the Second Blade. That strange pull toward her lingered, growing stronger with every interaction. He couldn’t quite place it yet, but one thing was certain—this journey was about to get far more interesting.

As the crew of the Halazia made their final preparations to set sail, the Nishi stood off to the side, silent and unreadable. Seungcheol and Mingyu exchanged glances, each wondering what life aboard the infamous pirate ship would hold for them. The Second Blade, as calm and composed as ever, remained still, watching the pirates as they moved about with practiced efficiency.

Hongjoong returned to the main deck, his sharp eyes scanning his crew. “Alright, let’s get moving. Wonderland’s hospitality is wearing thin, and I’d rather not linger where too many eyes are watching.”

The crew murmured in agreement, their movements quick and purposeful as they cast off from the docks.

Seungcheol leaned slightly toward Mingyu, his voice low. “This crew is... different. They don’t seem to operate on any rules I’m familiar with.”

Mingyu shrugged, his tone light but curious. “That’s what makes it exciting, don’t you think? We’ve been stuck in Wonderland for too long. It’s about time we see how the rest of the world works.”

The Second Blade didn’t join the conversation, but her masked face tilted ever so slightly, suggesting it was listening.

As the ship drifted farther from the port, Hongjoong approached the three Nishi. “I’ll be clear with you now. You’re no longer in Wonderland. On this ship, you follow my orders. I don’t care about ranks, titles, or protocols from your past. You’re part of my crew now, and that means loyalty to me and me alone.”

Seungcheol and Mingyu nodded in unison, their movements precise and obedient. The Second Blade simply inclined its head again, its silence speaking volumes.

San, standing nearby, crossed his arms as he eyed the trio. “Can they fight in real battles, though? Wonderland’s training is one thing, but out here, it’s chaos.”

Hongjoong didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned to the Second Blade. “What do you think? Can you handle the chaos of the seas?”

The Second Blade’s voice was calm and unwavering. “Chaos is an opportunity. It reveals the weaknesses of those unprepared. I have no intention of being unprepared.”

Mingyu chuckled under his breath. “I think that’s the most poetic way I’ve ever heard someone say ‘yes.’”

Seungcheol shot him a look, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Hongjoong smirked, clearly satisfied. “Good. Then let’s see how you adapt to life on the Halazia. You’ll have plenty of chances to prove yourselves.”

As the ship gained speed, Wooyoung called from the galley, “Captain! If they’re part of the crew now, they better learn how we eat. Mingyu looks like he could finish off the week’s rations in one sitting!”

Mingyu glanced toward Wooyoung, his posture relaxed. “Only if your cooking’s as good as you claim.”

Wooyoung grinned, leaning out the doorway. “You’ll regret challenging me, rookie. Dinner’s in a few hours. Let’s see if you survive it.”

The crew laughed, the tension from the earlier departure easing. The Nishi, while still enigmatic, were beginning to feel less like outsiders and more like the newest pieces of the Halazia’s puzzle.

The Halazia loomed over the coastline of a small, unsuspecting island, its black sails striking a foreboding figure against the azure sky. Hongjoong stood at the bow, his piercing gaze fixed on the settlement below.

“Alright,” he said, turning to his crew. “We go in quick and clean. Take only what we need—gold, weapons, supplies. Leave no loose ends.”

The main crew gathered around him—Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho—all ready for the raid. Beside them stood the three Nishi, their white masks gleaming ominously in the sunlight.

“This time,” Hongjoong continued, his smirk sharp, “it’s just us. No extra hands, no distractions. Let’s see how well our new recruits handle the chaos.”

San grinned, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “Finally. Let’s see if they’re as good as they looked in Wonderland.”

Wooyoung chuckled, glancing at Mingyu. “Think you can keep up with us, big guy?”

Mingyu tilted his head slightly, his voice calm. “I think the better question is if you can keep up with me.”

Seungcheol sighed, ever the level-headed one. “Let’s focus on the task, shall we?”

The Second Blade, as always, said nothing, but its presence was palpable.

As the crew descended on the island, chaos erupted. The inhabitants, though armed, were no match for the seasoned pirates. And then there were the Nishi.

The Second Blade moved like a shadow, weaving through the fray with unnerving precision. Its twin blades flashed, striking down attackers before they could even raise their weapons. Every move was deliberate, efficient, and terrifyingly silent.

Seungcheol, meanwhile, was a powerhouse. His strikes were methodical and brutal, each one designed to incapacitate swiftly. He moved in sync with the others, covering blind spots and ensuring no one was overwhelmed.

Mingyu, despite his easy going demeanor, was a force of nature. His sheer strength was undeniable, and every swing of his blade sent opponents flying. Yet, there was a grace to his movements, a calculated elegance that belied his size.

The Halazia crew couldn’t help but notice.

“Did you see that?” Mingi shouted, fending off an attacker. “That’s insane!”

Yunho, navigating through the chaos, grinned. “I think we made the right choice bringing them along.”

Jongho, in the middle of taking down a group of armed guards, smirked. “Not bad for newcomers. But let’s see how they handle the next wave.”

The fight raged on, but it became clear that the Nishi were unstoppable. By the time the dust settled, the islanders had been subdued, their weapons confiscated, and the pirates stood victorious.

Hongjoong, standing amidst the wreckage, surveyed the scene. His eyes lingered on the Second Blade, which was wiping the blood from its swords with calm precision.

“Well,” he said, his voice carrying a note of satisfaction. “I’d say you’ve all more than proven yourselves.”

Seungcheol, ever the professional, inclined his head. “We’re here to serve, Captain.”

Mingyu leaned on his sword, grinning. “That was fun. When’s the next one?”

The Second Blade remained silent, but the way it sheathed its blades with a flourish spoke volumes.

San, catching his breath, clapped Hongjoong on the back. “You weren’t kidding when you said they’d be useful. I don’t think we’ve ever had a raid go this smoothly.”

Hongjoong chuckled, his sharp gaze still fixed on the Second Blade. “Useful? They’re more than that. They’re exactly what we’ve been missing.”

As the crew gathered their spoils and prepared to leave, the bond between the pirates and their new allies had grown stronger. The Nishi had not only earned their place on the Halazia but had also become a force to be reckoned with—one that the seas would soon learn to fear.

As the crew regrouped on the beach, the spoils of their raid piled high behind them, Wooyoung let out a dramatic sigh, collapsing onto a barrel.

“Well,” he said, wiping imaginary sweat from his forehead, “that was easy. Almost boring, actually.”

Mingyu, standing nearby, chuckled. “You call that boring? You screamed when that guy lunged at you.”

Wooyoung pointed a finger at him, indignant. “It was a battle cry. You wouldn’t understand.”

San smirked, shaking his head. “Pretty sure it sounded more like a dying seagull.”

“Seagull?” Wooyoung gasped, clutching his chest as if wounded. “You wound me, San. I’m the voice of this ship!”

“More like the noise of this ship,” Jongho muttered under his breath, earning a laugh from Yunho.

As the crew bantered, Hongjoong stood slightly apart, his eyes fixated on the Second Blade. She was meticulously cleaning her twin swords, every movement precise and deliberate. Despite the chaos and bloodshed of the raid, her calm demeanor remained intact, and Hongjoong couldn’t help but find it fascinating.

Seonghwa, noticing his captain’s lingering gaze, sidled up to him with a knowing smirk. “You’ve been staring at her for a while now.”

Hongjoong didn’t look away, his voice low and thoughtful. “There’s something about her, Seonghwa. The way she moves, the way she fights... it’s mesmerizing.”

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. “Mesmerizing? Or are you just—”

“Don’t,” Hongjoong interrupted, shooting him a sharp look. “Don’t even start.”

Seonghwa chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say anything, Captain.”

Nearby, Wooyoung leaned toward Mingi, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear, “I think the captain’s got a crush.”

Mingi snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. She’s not exactly the talkative type.”

Hongjoong turned sharply toward them, his glare cutting through their laughter. “Focus on the loot before I throw you both overboard.”

The crew burst into laughter, but it quickly subsided when the Second Blade stood and approached Hongjoong. Even under her mask, her presence was commanding, and the air around them grew quiet.

“Captain,” she said simply, her voice steady and calm. “Your orders?”

Hongjoong cleared his throat, straightening his coat as if caught off guard. “We’ll load the spoils onto the ship and set sail immediately. Good work today, Second Blade.”

She inclined her head and turned to help with the loot, her movements fluid and efficient.

As she walked away, Hongjoong couldn’t help but watch her again, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

Seonghwa leaned in once more, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re obsessed.”

Hongjoong didn’t deny it. “Maybe. But there’s something about her, Seonghwa. Something I can’t quite figure out.”

San walked by, overhearing their conversation, and quipped, “Careful, Captain. You keep staring like that, and she might think you’re planning to challenge her to a duel.”

Hongjoong chuckled, shaking his head. “If I did, I’d probably lose.”

The moment the words left Hongjoong's mouth—"If I did, I’d probably lose"—the deck went completely silent.

San, mid-step, froze. Wooyoung dropped the sack of loot he was carrying. Yunho, who was tying down a sail, turned so quickly he nearly tripped over the rope. Even Jongho, typically stoic, looked like someone had just smacked him in the face with a fish.

Seonghwa stared at Hongjoong, his jaw slightly slack. “Did you... did you just say you’d lose a fight?”

Hongjoong blinked, realizing what he’d said, and immediately tried to backtrack. “I mean... hypothetically. It’s not like I—”

But Wooyoung wasn’t about to let this go. He clutched his chest dramatically, stumbling backward. “The great Captain Hongjoong, admitting defeat? To anyone? Oh, this is historic! Someone write this down!”

Mingi, trying not to laugh, nudged Yunho. “You think the world’s ending? This feels like one of those moments.”

“Maybe he’s sick,” Yunho said, pretending to inspect Hongjoong from a distance. “Captain, should I call Yeosang? You might be delirious.”

San, smirking, crossed his arms. “Or maybe... you’re just that whipped.”

The entire crew burst into laughter, the kind of loud, boisterous laughter that echoed over the waves. Even Seungcheol and Mingyu exchanged amused glances, clearly entertained by the pirates' antics.

The Second Blade, however, remained silent, standing as still as a statue. Her head tilted slightly, as if she was processing the conversation but chose not to comment.

Hongjoong, trying to salvage his pride, raised his hands. “Alright, enough! You lot have had your fun. Get back to work before I start assigning punishment duties.”

But his threat only made Wooyoung laugh harder. “You can’t scare us, Captain! Not when you’re this close to writing poetry about the Second Blade!”

“I do not write poetry,” Hongjoong snapped, his cheeks faintly red.

Seonghwa smirked, leaning in just enough to whisper, “If the mask comes off and she turns out to be beautiful, you’re doomed.”

Hongjoong glared at him but didn’t reply, his mind briefly wandering to what might be beneath that mask.

As the crew slowly returned to their tasks, still chuckling under their breaths, Seungcheol spoke up, his tone even. “Is this how your crew normally behaves, Captain?”

Hongjoong sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Unfortunately, yes. They’re skilled, but they have no sense of decorum.”

Mingyu grinned. “I like them. Feels more... lively than Wonderland.”

Seungcheol hummed in agreement, but his sharp eyes flicked to the Second Blade. “Though I’ll admit, I’ve never seen someone affect a group so quickly.”

Hongjoong ignored the comment, instead turning his focus back to the horizon. But as the laughter of his crew faded into the rhythm of the ship’s movements, he couldn’t shake the faint heat rising to his cheeks.

He stole a glance at the Second Blade, who was quietly inspecting her weapons near the mast. The sight of her—silent, enigmatic, and completely unbothered by the chaos she caused—only intrigued him more.

And though he would never admit it, not even to himself, Hongjoong knew one thing: he was whipped, and he wasn’t entirely sure he minded.

As the days turned into weeks, Halazia sailed through the vast oceans, leaving a trail of fear and fascination in its wake. But amidst the looting, planning, and endless chaos that came with being the pirate king, Hongjoong found his thoughts increasingly occupied by one thing—or rather, one person.

The Second Blade.

She was unlike anyone he’d ever encountered. Her movements were a study in grace and lethality, her silence spoke louder than words, and her presence was magnetic. Hongjoong had always viewed his crew and allies as tools to further his goals, weapons to carve his path to dominance. But the Second Blade… she was different.

She wasn’t just a weapon; she was a treasure. And as the self-proclaimed king of the seas, Hongjoong always took what he wanted. Right now, he wanted her.

He often found himself watching her, more openly than he intended. Whether she was sharpening her blades, silently observing the crew’s antics, or simply standing at the bow of the ship, her mask reflecting the sunlight like polished ivory, Hongjoong couldn’t look away.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and red, Hongjoong leaned against the railing, his sharp eyes fixed on her.

“She’s something, isn’t she?”

The voice didn't startle him, and he turned to find Seonghwa standing nearby, a knowing smirk on his face.

Hongjoong scoffed, crossing his arms. “Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Seonghwa said innocently, though his tone was laced with amusement. “I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

Hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She’s not like the others, Seonghwa. There’s something about her… something I can’t quite figure out.”

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. “You mean besides the fact that she could probably kill us all in our sleep without breaking a sweat?”

Hongjoong chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Exactly that. She’s a mystery, and you know how much I hate not knowing things.”

“Maybe that’s why you’re so drawn to her,” Seonghwa mused. “You’re used to being in control, Captain. But with her, you’re not.”

Hongjoong didn’t respond, but the truth of Seonghwa’s words lingered in his mind.

Later that night, as the crew gathered for their usual round of rum and storytelling, Hongjoong found himself drawn to her again. She stood apart from the group, leaning against the mast with her arms crossed. Even with the mask, he could feel her sharp gaze cutting through the revelry.

He approached her, his boots clicking softly against the wooden deck. She didn’t move, didn’t even acknowledge him, but he knew she was aware of his presence.

“Why do you always stand alone?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

She turned her head slightly, the white mask catching the moonlight. “I’m not part of your crew, Captain. I’m here because I was ordered to be.”

Her words were cold, but Hongjoong detected a faint crack in her usual stoic tone.

“Maybe,” he said, leaning casually against the mast beside her. “But you’ve proven yourself more than just an order. You’ve earned your place here.”

She didn’t reply, and the silence stretched between them. For once, Hongjoong didn’t mind.

Finally, she spoke. “You’re different than I expected.”

“Oh?” His lips curled into a smirk. “What did you expect?”

“A tyrant,” she said simply. “Someone who rules with fear and takes without thought.”

Hongjoong chuckled, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “I am those things, Second Blade. But even a tyrant can appreciate something extraordinary when he sees it.”

Her head tilted slightly, as if she were studying him, trying to unravel his words.

“Goodnight, Captain,” she said finally, her voice softer this time.

As she walked away, Hongjoong watched her disappear into the shadows, a strange sense of longing settling in his chest.

For the first time in his life, the pirate king found himself wanting something he couldn’t simply take. But he was determined to have her—one way or another.

The clash of swords and the thunder of cannons filled the air as chaos reigned on the Halazia. The navy had come prepared, their ships surrounding yours with ruthless efficiency. The crew fought valiantly, their cries of defiance rising above the din of battle.

You moved through the fray like a shadow, your twin blades cutting through enemies with practiced precision. Every movement was deliberate, every strike lethal. You had faced battles like this before -chaotic, bloody, and merciless-and you thrived in them.

But then, a presence caught your attention.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a man moving toward you, his stance predatory and his sword glinting under the sun. He was no ordinary soldier; the way he carried himself spoke of years of training, and his eyes locked onto you with singular intent.

You met his first strike with one of your blades, the force of the clash vibrating through your arm. He was stronger than most, but you didn't falter. Instead, you pushed back, twisting to deflect his follow-up strike with your second blade

“You're nothing more than a masked puppet” the man taunted.

The two of you exchanged a flurry of blows, each one testing the other's limits. For a moment, you thought you had him, your blade finding an opening in his defense. But then, he sidestepped with surprising speed, his sword coming down in a powerful arc.

You raised your blades to block, but the force of his strike was immense. His sword slammed into yours, the impact sending a shockwave through your arms. Before you could recover, his next strike came, aimed high.

His blade scraped against the edge of your mask, and you felt it-the sharp crack of the material breaking under the pressure.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to slow. You felt the pieces of your mask splintering, the fragments falling away from your face and scattering onto the deck.

The man froze for a split second, his eyes widening in shock as he took in your uncovered face. The noise of the battle seemed to fade for an instant, the world narrowing to just the two of you.

You didn't hesitate. Using his momentary distraction, you surged forward, your blade slicing through the air. The fight wasn't over-not yet-but you knew one thing for certain: the secret you had guarded for so long was now exposed.

The man fell before you, your blade driving cleanly through his chest as he crumpled to the deck. You pulled your sword free, standing over him, but the usual sense of victory that came with a kill was absent. Instead, a cold weight settled in your chest.

Your mask was gone.

You could feel the open air against your face, the stares of those around you. The battle continued to rage, but in your world, time seemed to slow, every sound muffled as if you were underwater.

Your hand instinctively twitched toward your face, but there was nothing to cover it with. The scar- the mark that had defined you in more ways than one-was exposed to the world. It stretched from the corner of your lip to the middle of your cheek, a cruel, jagged line that almost mimicked a half-smile.

A mockery.

You didn't need to look around to know what they were seeing. A warrior, unmasked, scarred, and vulnerable. The thought alone made your stomach churn, a bitter taste rising in your throat.

You could feel their gazes-some fleeting, others lingering. Enemies paused mid-battle, caught off guard by the sight. Even your crewmates, the ones who had fought beside you for weeks, faltered for a moment.

"Second Blade!"

The sound of Hongjoong's voice snapped you back to reality. He was fighting his way toward you, his sword cutting down anyone who stood in his path. His eyes, sharp and calculating, locked onto yours.

For a split second, you saw something there- surprise, yes, but also something else. Something softer.

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to focus. The battle wasn't over, and neither was your duty. You turned sharply, ignoring the weight of the stares, and threw yourself back into the fight.

But no matter how many enemies you cut down, that feeling of exposure wouldn't leave you. The scar wasn't just a mark on your skin-it was a reminder of what you'd endured, a testament to your survival. And now, everyone on this cursed ship could see it.

You had always been the Second Blade, a faceless warrior, a weapon to be wielded. But now, stripped of that anonymity, you felt exposed. Vulnerable.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt defeated.

The battle raged on, but your focus wavered, a rarity for someone of your skill. Each strike of your blade felt mechanical, detached, as though the strength you once carried had been siphoned by the shattering of your mask. The scar burned—not from pain, but from the weight of being seen.

You cut down another attacker, breathing hard as the chaos around you began to subside. The navy soldiers were retreating, their numbers dwindling under the relentless force of the Halazia crew.

"Second Blade!"

Hongjoong’s voice rang out again, this time closer. You turned to see him approaching, his sword slick with blood, his expression unreadable. Behind him, the rest of the main crew was regrouping, their faces a mix of triumph and exhaustion.

And curiosity.

You stood still as Hongjoong stopped in front of you, his sharp eyes scanning your face. He didn’t speak at first, his gaze lingering on the scar.

“Your face…” he started, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

“I know,” you interrupted, your tone clipped. You turned your head slightly, as if to shield the scar from his view, though you knew it was pointless. “It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” San commented, stepping up beside Hongjoong. His eyes flicked to your scar, but there was no malice there—only curiosity.

“Looks like a story,” Yeosang chimed in.

Wooyoung, leaning on his weapon with an almost playful grin added,“And you know how much we love stories around here.”

“Enough.” Hongjoong’s voice was firm, silencing the murmurs of the crew. His gaze hadn’t left your face. “Are you injured?”

“I’m fine.”

“Good.” He took a step closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “You don’t need to hide from me, Second Blade. Not here. Not with us.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Before you could find the right words, Yunho called out.

“Captain, we’ve got their ship retreating! What’s the plan?”

Hongjoong straightened, his commanding presence returning in an instant. “Let them run. They’ll spread word of what happened here. That’s enough for now.”

The crew began to cheer, their energy renewed despite the toll of the battle.

Hongjoong turned back to you, his voice quieter but no less authoritative. “We’ll talk later.”

With that, he moved to rally his crew, leaving you standing amid the aftermath of the fight. The scar on your face still felt like it burned under the weight of their gazes, but there was something about the way Hongjoong had looked at you.

Not with pity. Not with disgust.

But with something else entirely.

You exhaled, steeling yourself. There was no room for weakness on the Halazia, but maybe—just maybe—there was room for something else.

The dining hall of the Halazia was alive with the usual banter and clinking of cutlery. Plates of food were passed around, and the crew reveled in the aftermath of their victory against the navy. Yet tonight, there was an unusual air of curiosity lingering in the room, all eyes subtly drifting to the three Nishis seated among them.

You sat at the table, your mask broken and discarded, your scar fully visible under the warm light of the lanterns. To your left, Seungcheol and to your right, Mingyu sat quietly, but the absence of their masks drew more than a few glances.

San finally broke the silence, gesturing toward the two Nishis. “Alright, I have to ask—what’s going on here? I thought the masks were, like, sacred or something.”

Mingyu, ever the more casual of the two, shrugged nonchalantly. “They are. But when an upper rank removes their mask, it’s tradition for the lower ranks to do the same. Out of respect.”

Seungcheol nodded in agreement, his tone more formal. “It’s a symbol of unity. If one’s identity is exposed, the others stand with them. It’s the least we can do.”

The room fell quiet for a moment, the weight of the explanation sinking in.

“So, you’re saying it’s because of her,” Mingi said, gesturing to you with a nod.

“Obviously,” Wooyoung chimed in, grinning as he leaned forward on his elbows. “Makes sense. She’s the top dog, after all.”

“Second Blade,” Jongho spoke up suddenly, his voice cutting through the chatter. His expression was unusually curious, his gaze fixed on you. “How did you get that scar?”

The room fell into an awkward silence, the air heavy with tension. Hongjoong, seated at the head of the table, immediately narrowed his eyes at Jongho.

“Jongho,” he said sharply, his tone carrying a warning. “That’s not your place to ask.”

But before he could continue, you raised a hand, stopping him. “It’s fine, Captain.”

You set your utensils down and leaned back slightly in your chair, your gaze sweeping over the expectant faces of the crew. It was rare for you to speak, let alone about something personal, but tonight was different.

“If you want to know, I’ll tell you,” you said, your voice steady despite the weight of the memory.

All eyes were on you now, the room completely silent as the crew waited for you to begin.

The house was cold when the men came for you. Your mother’s hands trembled as she clutched the doorframe, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Your father stood stiffly behind her, his jaw tight as if forcing himself not to speak.

You tried to hold back the fear clawing at your chest as the soldiers stepped inside. Their uniforms were spotless, their movements brisk. You’d heard the stories—families giving up their children to the military for better housing, steady food, and money. You just never thought it would happen to you.

“Come along,” one of the soldiers said, his tone curt but not unkind.

Your mother’s lips moved, forming silent words. Maybe a prayer, maybe an apology. She didn’t look at you as she gently pushed you forward.

“Why?” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Your father’s eyes flicked to you for the briefest moment before he turned away. “It’s for the best,” he muttered.

The soldiers took you by the arms, and as they led you out of the house, the weight of abandonment settled heavily on your chest. You didn’t cry, but your throat ached from holding it back.

The training camp was a harsh, unfeeling place. From the moment you arrived, you were thrust into a world of grueling drills, barked orders, and punishments for the smallest mistakes. It was exhausting, but you pushed through, clinging to the faint hope that surviving this would lead to something better.

But then, the whispers started.

“She’s got potential,” one of the camp hosts murmured, their eyes lingering on you.

“For more than just combat,” another added, their tone making your skin crawl.

At first, you didn’t understand what they meant. But when you were summoned one evening, it became clear. The hosts eyed you like a prize, their polished appearances and honeyed words hiding something far uglier.

“She’s got a face that’ll sell,” one said, their gaze raking over you.

“Such a waste to send her to war,” another added with a smirk.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. They didn’t see you as a soldier in training—they saw you as a commodity.

When the general was informed of their plan, you were dragged to his quarters. General Rael was an imposing figure, his towering frame and sharp eyes making him impossible to read. The hosts explained their intentions, their voices sickeningly eager.

“She could make us a fortune,” one said, as if you weren’t standing right there.

The general listened in silence, his expression unreadable. Then he turned to you.

“You,” he said, his voice like gravel. “Come here.”

You hesitated, fear and anger warring within you, but the sharp tug of a soldier’s hand forced you forward.

Rael’s gaze bored into you for a moment before he spoke. “They think you’re too pretty to be a soldier.”

His words made your stomach churn. “I don’t care what they think,” you said, your voice trembling despite your attempt at defiance.

“Good,” he replied, pulling a dagger from his belt.

Your breath hitched, your heart racing as he stepped closer. “W-what are you doing?”

“I’m fixing the problem,” he said flatly.

The blade was cold against your skin as he pressed it to the corner of your lip. The first cut was searing, a pain so intense that you couldn’t stop the scream that tore from your throat.

“Stop!” you cried, tears streaming down your face as he dragged the blade across your cheek. Blood poured down your face, warm and sticky, soaking into your shirt.

“Stop struggling,” Rael barked, his grip like iron.

When it was over, he stepped back, tossing a rag at you. You caught it with shaking hands, pressing it to your wound as sobs wracked your body. Your legs felt weak as they gave out and collapsed on the floor.

“Still think she’s worth more off the battlefield?” Rael asked, turning to the pale-faced hosts.

They left without a word, their greedy smiles replaced with wide-eyed shock.

You sat there trembling, blood dripping onto the floor, the rag clutched tightly against your face. Rael said nothing as he turned away, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room.

That night, you lay in your bunk, the pain of the wound throbbing with every heartbeat. Silent tears slid down your face as you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing with anger, humiliation, and despair.

You weren’t just scarred—you were marked. A cruel reminder of what had been taken from you. And yet, somewhere deep inside, a spark of resolve burned.

They had tried to break you. But you would not let them win.

The room fell eerily silent as you finished speaking, the weight of your story settling over the table like a heavy fog. Your hands were still clenched tightly, the memory of the pain and humiliation as fresh as if it had happened only moments ago.

The crew, usually so brash and unfiltered, seemed almost reverent in their silence. Their eyes locked onto you, no longer the fierce, untouchable warrior they’d seen before, but a person—a woman with a past far more painful than they could have imagined.

Hongjoong’s gaze softened, his usually sharp and calculating eyes filled with something different—sympathy, perhaps, or understanding. But before he could speak, you lifted your chin, your voice cutting through the quiet like a sword.

“You wanted this,” you said, your tone firm and unwavering. “You asked. So I told you.”

The crew exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of shock, admiration, and something else—something that mirrored your own unspoken resolve.

Jongho, usually the most forward of the bunch, was the first to break the silence. “I... didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just curious.”

You nodded once, sharply. “Curiosity has consequences. But you wanted to know, so I told you.”

Hongjoong leaned back, his gaze thoughtful. “You’re not just some weapon, are you?”

You looked at him, eyes hardening slightly. “I never was.”

A heavy silence passed between you all, and for the first time, the crew seemed to understand you better. Not just as the deadly, cold warrior they had seen fighting beside them, but as someone who had been broken and reforged into something stronger. Something they couldn’t quite fathom, but now respected even more.

“Let’s eat,” you said, your voice cutting through the tension. “We’ve got work to do.”

And with that, the crew reluctantly returned to their meals, the weight of your story lingering in the air as they silently processed what they had learned. The bond between you had shifted, subtly but unmistakably.

The bond between you and the crew had grown stronger with each passing day, but there were moments when things shifted, when the air between you and Hongjoong became a little heavier. He noticed the way you held yourself—how you kept your distance, how you threw yourself into your duties with a fierce intensity, but never allowed yourself to relax, never allowed anyone to get too close.

One evening, as the crew settled around the ship’s deck after a long day of sailing, Hongjoong approached you. You were leaning against the mast, staring out at the horizon, your arms crossed over your chest in that familiar defensive posture.

“Second Blade,” he said quietly, standing a few paces away from you, his voice low enough not to draw attention from the rest of the crew.

You didn’t turn to face him, but you acknowledged his presence with a slight tilt of your head. “Captain.”

He hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, his words measured and thoughtful. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you? More than anyone should have to endure.”

You didn’t respond, your gaze still fixed on the endless ocean. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you, but you weren’t ready to let the walls down, not yet.

“I get it,” he continued, a slight edge of frustration creeping into his voice. “You’re protecting everyone else. The crew, the ship, the mission... but who’s protecting you?”

The question hung in the air, but you kept your silence. You couldn’t afford to let anyone protect you. You couldn’t afford to need anyone.

Hongjoong stepped closer, his presence a comfort and a challenge all at once. “You don’t have to do it alone, Second Blade. You’ve been protecting everyone around you, but what about yourself?”

You finally turned to look at him, meeting his gaze for the first time. There was an intensity in his eyes, a longing that you couldn’t quite place. “I don’t have time for that,” you said, your voice quiet but firm. “I have to protect the people who matter. The ones who can’t defend themselves.”

His gaze softened, and a small, understanding smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I understand,” he said, his voice low and serious. “But while you’re out there protecting the world, let me protect you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest at the simplicity of his words. It wasn’t just a promise—it was an offer. A chance to be seen, to be cared for. Something you hadn’t allowed yourself to consider in a long time.

“I don’t need protecting,” you said, though your voice was quieter now, less certain.

Hongjoong’s expression softened even more, his eyes holding a quiet intensity. “Maybe not from the world. But from yourself, Second Blade. Maybe you need someone to look out for you.”

For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you standing there in the soft glow of the evening. The crew continued their chatter behind you, unaware of the subtle shift in the air.

You swallowed, the weight of his words sinking in. Could you really let someone protect you? Could you allow yourself to lean on someone else for once?

But before you could speak, Hongjoong gave you a small, almost teasing smile. “I’m not asking you to let your guard down completely. Just... let me take care of you when you need it. It’s what a captain does, right?”

A small part of you wanted to refuse, to keep your distance, to push him away. But another part of you, the part that had spent so long alone, finally relented.

After a while, you sighed, “But don’t expect me to make it easy for you.”

Hongjoong chuckled, a rich, warm sound that made your heart beat a little faster. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

And as you stood there with him, the weight of his words still lingering between you, you realized something. You had always been the protector. But maybe, just maybe, it was time to let someone else guard your back for a change.

[k4vehrtz]

WHATEVER HAPPENED TO THE YOUNG, YOUNG LOVERS? dom ! nanami kento / sub ! m. reader

content warnings. nsfw content / hybrid au ergo predator - prey dynamic where applicable / bunny hybrid ! nanami & reader / explicit mentions of and allusions to social anxiety / age gap (reader is 25 + nanami is 45) / satosugu cameo / self - degradation (brief, nanami) + mild degradation (r receiving) / fingering (r receiving) / spontaneous sex / ‘bunny’ & ‘little rabbit’ used as a pet name / doggystyle / ass‐to–mouth / overstimulation / heat cycles / nipple play / explicit consent / reader is shorter than nanami but there is no explicit description of a body type / virgin nanami ergo loss of virginity

word count. 3K

notes. i’ve had this bunny ! reader req in my inbox for a while and it has been on my mind so i decided to explore a couple ideas :) i’m dyslexic so any errors just give the fic personality

nanami had, over the course of his life, nurtured a particular distaste for other human beings.

he’d grown up in a city — one that never slept; a city that hummed to the tune of debauchery. busy days pre–empted busier nights. and he’d always remember two things: one, that the winters were cold, but the people there were always colder and two, he’d stuck out in a crowd.

hence, at the age of forty–five, he’d decided to leave.

“… so let me get this straight,” satoru, who’d made it his mission to mimic a koala, says as he untangles himself from suguru after having concluded that this was, in fact, a serious conversation. “you’re moving to a small town to avoid human interaction more efficiently instead of addressing your underlying social anxiety?”

satoru naturally spoke faster than the average individual, but his pace increased near the end of his sentence. nanami pretended not to notice (something he’d become exceptionally good at).

“real subtle, smart ass,” suguru hadn’t though, narrowing his eyes at his partner before turning his attention back to nanami, “i think it’s a good idea, better environment to write and all.”

writing, yes. he’d gotten in the habit during high school. it was nothing more than a hobby — something to pass the time between classes. being a loner by choice (as he’d liked to call it), he’d had a lot of time to get lost between the lines of an empty notebook. and being a creature of habit (in the self–proclaimed ‘right’ opinion of the startlingly blue–eyed man sitting across from him), he’d made a career out of it.

“i…suppose,” he responds almost nonchalantly, lacking the energy that his two closest friends possessed.

he hasn’t written since his last work — a collection of essays on how one’s perception of their surroundings is impacted by one’s perception of oneself — was published two, almost three years ago.

he’s embarrassed, a sensation that sticks to his skin uncomfortably and the silence that falls between them only exacerbates his discomfort.

“i’ll see you two, then,” he speaks up after the silence proves to be too much for him, standing to his full height in a bashful sort of way that can only be described as endearing — typical for rabbit hybrids.

the two fox hybrids, long since accustomed to the abrupt end of get–togethers, exchange their goodbyes as they stare at his retreating form with sympathetic eyes.

and nanami, instinctively observant of his surroundings to a fault, doesn’t have to turn around to know the expressions that colour their complexions. he can feel it — the eyes of predators following his every move.

he exhales slowly through his nose: once, twice, and then a third time before the intensity of his heartbeat subsides. they’re his friends, not a threat.

his stride resumes, albeit awkwardly, with full awareness of the fact that he has a problem. he’s had a problem for a long time. but running comes naturally to prey animals.

designated ‘safe spaces’ for prey animals had become the norm in recent years following a series of unfortunate events. the café you worked at was one such establishment.

“…i’m so sorry for the delay, my co–worker called in sick so i’ve been on my own and today is a lot busier than—”

nanami clears his throat, his intention crystal clear, and your ramble comes to an abrupt end.

warmth gathers beneath the surface of your cheeks as you raise your gaze to his, though he swiftly looks away, “what can i get you?”

without looking at the menu, he responds, “a croissant,” and you interject, “so you’re the croissant guy!”

he stares at you for a moment before slowly repeating after you, “the…croissant guy?” and when you smile at him, he can’t help but think that he’d need sunglasses if you were to do that again.

you apologize for the second time before continuing, “you should know by now that there aren’t that many people that live here and, between you and me, even fewer people that buy our croissants,” a distinct warmness to your tone.

nanami nods thoughtfully, responding curtly with an indifferent, “i see,” as he pays for the pastry before finding himself someplace to sit with his laptop.

it’s been a week since he’d first arrived and he considers himself familiar enough with his new surroundings. all that was left to do was to write but, as it turns out, a change of scenery only goes so far.

as he stares at the empty document on his screen, his thoughts wander back to a few minutes ago. you’re a new face — he presumes the co–worker you’d mentioned was the barista he’d met before.

but his thoughts wander so far before you appear at his side, croissant in hand, “i heard you were an author, that’s pretty cool,” and your seemingly perpetual smile curling your lips.

you mean no harm; it’s merely an attempt to be polite, making small talk is perfectly normal. but nanami isn’t normal, he feels strange, a surge of anxiety materializing seemingly from thin air.

“you heard?” he repeats after you, stumbling over his words, and he feels stupid and embarrassed.

you tilt your head to the side, your overly large ears flopping as you do so, before taking it upon yourself to sit across from him.

“isn’t it great to have places like these to ourselves?”

he raises a brow at the sudden change of topic but you continue nevertheless, “i think it’s great, ‘cause you get to meet people who understand you. there’s a book club at the library down the street this saturday, i think you should stop by if you have the time to spare,” before excusing yourself, leaving as fast as you came.

nanami lowers his eyes to the croissant, not entirely sure of what had just happened. while you stare at him from behind the counter, a complex mixture of emotions colouring your expression.

“i think you should go; it won’t hurt to get out of the house.”

satoru’s voice echoes through his laptop’s speaker and nanami falls into contemplative silence.

“besides —” suguru interjects, “you’ve been seeing that therapist, right? i bet she’d agree that this is a step in the right direction,” moving into the camera’s frame as he settles down on satoru’s lap.

they’re not wrong; he, deep down, knows that they’re not wrong, but he hesitates all the same.

“i don’t know,” he breathes out after a moment of silence, pushing the pickled vegetables around his plate with his reusable chopsticks absentmindedly.

the line of communication falls silent once more and then suguru responds, “whatever you decide to do, we support you,” before ending the call.

and nanami exhales slowly, staring at his reflection on his laptop’s screen. he’s aged (of course he has), baby fat no longer rounds his cheeks, and crow’s feet round the corners of his eyes.

but, even now, he stands out — and nanami hates standing out.

he’d stood out among his peers; other prey animals were shorter, always shorter. there was always ‘too much’ of nanami — it made him easier to spot and made his movements awkward. he never fully knew what to do with himself.

rabbit hybrids were meant to be small and cute, two things nanami wasn’t.

you, on the other hand, were the epitome of society’s expectations; smaller and sociable. at least, that’s what he’d observed over the past four days. and he doesn’t hate you for it — ‘hate’ is too strong of a word to describe how he felt.

‘envy’, however, leaves a bad taste in his mouth, it ruins his already depleted appetite, and he pushes the ceramic plate of pickled vegetables away from him when the thought crosses his labyrinthine mind.

he doesn’t envy you; that would be absurd. but, isn’t that what this world is, absurd?

‘it is’, he decides as he changes into more suitable clothing for leaving the house — abandoning his pyjamas for a white shirt tucked into the waistband of black slacks. it was plain, nanami liked plain; he liked uniformity.

but you, you again, you were anything but plain.

as he rounded the corner of the library after receiving directions from the librarian, a sweet elderly woman, your brightly coloured sweater caught his eyes first. it stood out amidst the piles of books of all different shapes, sizes, and colours that surrounded you.

his gaze flickers to the watch around his wrist, an all too familiar sensation creeping up on him. he’d come too late. but the sound of your voice drags him out of his thoughts before he can spiral any further. hell, he hadn’t even noticed when you approached him.

“you should get out of your head sometime.”

he narrows his eyes at you, not entirely because of what you’d said (though it played a role) but because of how you said it. now that you were in such proximity to one another, he can’t help but acknowledge that you look terrible.

you sound as though you’d just run a marathon, your chest rising and falling in quick succession. without thinking he presses the back of his palm against your forehead, beads of sweat dampening his skin but he doesn’t mind. you’re burning up.

“christ,” he grimaces as he gives you a once–over, adrenaline coursing through his veins as his own body begins to heat up in a similar manner.

so, this is not a regular fever, duly noted.

“i don’t consider myself a believer but each to their own,” you grin, a lopsided type that nanami swore could give him cavities. but now is not the time for that.

he clears his throat, making the conscious decision to ignore the growing strain of his cock against the fabric of his slacks, and asks carefully, “do you need a ride home?”

nanami’s studio was a blank canvas; untouched white walls, and brand–new furniture (some still encased in its plastic wrapping) in different shades of grey. even in your heat–induced haze, you could tell that this was a ‘house’, not a ‘home’.

he doesn’t comment on it though, so you keep your thoughts to yourself as he gently guides you to his designated bedroom.

the mattress sinks under the combined weight of the two of you. your chests rising and falling in sync as you stare into each other’s eyes, your oversized ears touching in a way neither of you knew could be so pleasurable until now.

“i look old enough to be your father,” he murmurs, his voice breathier the longer his body hovers over yours. and your response comes between laboured gasps, “i’m—oh shit, you’re big—twenty-five, don’t worry, i’m a big boy.”

you can feel his growing erection through the fabric of his slacks against your own. and the air between the two of you feels charged, igniting as he lowers his lips to your throat, his warm breath feeling like miniature needles against your sensitive skin, “do you or do you not want this?”

it’s the question of the hour and you nod eagerly but he pauses, holding your chin between the soft pads of his thumb and index finger as he tilts your head upwards, “i need words, bunny, think you can use your words f’me, bunny?”

your lips part, a low, open–mouthed moan cascading down your tongue before you manage to form a coherent response, “i want ‘you’, not ‘this’.”

and your choice of wording is not lost on him, he hears you loud and clear.

“i’ve never done ‘this’ before,” he blurts out, embarrassed by his lack of cleverness when compared to your confession only moments prior.

it is the truth though; something he prides himself on being to others — truthful. although it’s up for debate how forthcoming he is with himself.

he had, however, every intention of taking you back to your place wherever that may be. but as the distinct floral scent indicating the arrival of your heat enveloped the confines of his car, he had to make a decision that was for the best of both of you. driving while approaching his heat was no better than driving while intoxicated; thus, the choice was clear.

“i can teach you,” comes your response, sounding as though it took a great deal of effort to say whilst pushing yourself up into a seated position, unintentionally bumping your forehead against his in the process.

“it’s so warm,” you both groan in unison as you pull away from each other, removing all articles of clothing deemed ‘unnecessary’ which truthfully rendered you both nude.

your state of undress mattered not, though, as nanami promptly leaned to the side, rummaging in the upper drawer of his nightstand for a moment before retrieving a lubricant specifically designed for rabbit hybrids (a gift he’d received from the ocean–eyed freak) and handing it over to you.

which you happily accept, coating both your own and his fingers in a considerable amount of lubricant before leaning against the headboard and spreading your legs.

you carefully guide his palm between your legs, gently nudging the tight ring of muscle with one of his fingers.

“i haven’t done this in a — fuck fuck fuck, your fingers are thick,” you hiccup, your breath catching in your throat as you rapidly descend into a string of curses as his finger breaches your entrance. the sudden intrusion hurts, but in the midst of your heat, it’s enough to send you over the edge, your toes curling as ropes of cum erupt from the head of your cock.

and there’s that bad taste in nanami’s mouth again, clinging to his bones and invading his muddled thoughts: ‘you just have to be perfect, don’t you?’ but with it comes the realization that he’s the reason why you’re like this and it fills him with an odd sense of satisfaction.

determination renewed, and perhaps in tandem with his desire to experience such relief, he cautiously adds another thick finger whilst you come down from your high.

“is penetration all it takes to send you over the edge, little rabbit?” he questions, curling his fingers towards what he presumes is your prostate, and you can’t help but whimper.

it’s strangely degrading when you think about it; nanami, a rabbit, a prey animal like yourself taking on a dominant role. a role that isn’t in his nature thus his tone remains mild–mannered whilst his words and actions, while cautious, are the exact opposite. 

 another finger is added — the total amounting to three now. you’re stretched around three of his thick fingers as he memorizes the layout of your insides, curling his fingers in such a way that he grazes your prostate with precision.

instead of teaching him, you’re rendered speechless as he maintains a steady pace with his fingers. the sound of your gasps, moans, and whimpers creating a symphony in the otherwise silent studio.

by the time he retracts his fingers for the final time, you’ve already climaxed two more times, your cum splattered across your bare abdomen.

“you’re so easy, little rabbit,” he whispers as his lips ghost yours before fully enveloping them in a heated exchange of saliva. there’s no real heat behind his words but you shudder nevertheless.

when nanami pulls away from your lips, it’s solely because you both need air. a string of saliva, however, remains connected to both of your lips, a testament to the heated kiss.

as you both catch your breath, you take it upon yourself to reposition yourself so that you’re on all fours, gleefully presenting yourself to nanami who obliges you.

your thighs tremble in silent anticipation of what’s to come, your loosened ring of muscle winking invitingly. but it’s not his cock — no, when the wet muscle breaches your entrance you squeal, almost losing your balance had nanami’s hands not been on your hips.

it’s a strange sensation — his tongue in your ass, his warm breath wafting across your most sensitive region. but you slowly adjust as he ravages you, lapping at your puckered entrance as you subconsciously clench and unclench.

and in a matter of minutes, you’re climaxing once more, the muscles in your pelvis twitching convulsively as your erect cock spurts ropes of cum onto the sheet beneath you. 

nanami pulls away from your ass with a ‘pop’, aligning himself with your entrance before easing into you and savouring every spasm of your gummy walls. he doesn’t move until he’s buried to the hilt, angling his hips as he thrusts into you with a steady pace, his balls colliding with your sensitive skin.

you’re overwhelmed by a sense of euphoria, having experienced multiple orgasms. so much so that salty tears roll down your cheeks as you feel nanami throb inside of you, the angry tip of his cock bullying your prostate relentlessly.

he truly is brutal, desperately chasing his high as one of his hands wanders up to your chest, taking your nipple between his thumb and index finger and teasing it.

nanami’s thoroughly bullying you but you can’t even protest, ‘uh–uh–uhs’ tumble past your lips in rapid succession along with the overwhelming urge to please him rearing its head.

thus, you endure his assault on your body until you fall limp on his mattress in a puddle of your cum as his leaks out of your entrance, some cascading down your inner thighs.

you’re still asleep when nanami wakes up the next morning, golden rays filtering into his apartment through the blinds. and he takes it upon himself to wipe your unconscious body with a damp towel from head to toe before taking a shower and heading into the kitchen.

a sense of dread settles in the pit of his stomach as he ponders the various directions the conversation the two of you are bound to have may go. but with it comes a new perspective.

[phantomrose96]

So do you have any Silt Verses thoughts that you wish to share with the world?

oh boy! okay time for some buckshot statements

Paige absolute character of all time for being an upper-middle class benefiter of the oppressive class structure who is radicalized and skips right past the "slacktivism on twitter" phase to instead jump directly into "creating gods and killing people." She's smart she's driven she's idealistic she will rend the earth in a horrid symphony of predator and prey ensnarled on bloody oaken crucifixion and I support her.

Hayward does not actually deserve the disproportionate attention I give him and that's because he's a loser and a failure (said with all the love in my heart.)

I may give the impression Hayward is the single fail-man of the series but that is not true. It is actually the case that every single The Silt Verses character is batting between a 50%-70% on the "a situation has occurred and it's gone So Fucking Wrong for them" measure. However Hayward stands out as the single indominable character batting a pure 100% in this category who can never be surpassed.

The voice acting is SO across the board good?? Hayward and Carpenter and Faulkner and Paige would all, in isolation, stand out as examples of excellent voice acting and they're all just together. Also the cameo from Harlan Guthrie in season 2 went so fucking hard.

When I started TSV I was like "oh okay so WE'RE the bad guys. like we're following the disciples of this bloody human-sacrificing river god cult. It's like if the TMA avatars were the main characters." And it was a fascinating revelation for the world to peel back and make clear that, actually, everyone is doing this. The world works like this. The Trawlerman followers are not being targeted for being human-sacrificing cultists - they're being targeted for being the losing human-sacrificing cultists on the wrong side of history. I haven't dug too deeply into this thought but it feels significant in the vein of "MY country's wretched human rights violations are the just and moral ones, because we're the correct people. Unlike those losing nations barbaric and unforgivable human rights violations."

The unavoidable cycle of "I kidnapped you as my hostage but maybe we're fwiends now? 👉👈🥺"

Why did Hayward LARP a whole story about being in a fail-marriage with a fail-wife. Why did he tell all this to Carpenter, a woman he just met. Why is he like this. 💖💖💖💖

Really love Faulkner's brand of "happy little sunshine boy who's being that way precisely because he wants to manipulate you into thinking he's a simple happy little sunshine boy." Very guy-who-killed-his-brother behavior of him.

[madwomansapologist]

YOU LOVE BLOOD TOO MUCH (BUT NOT LIKE I DO)

★彡 synopsis: awakened in a new era, sukuna found endless opportunities to hurt and maim others. he also found you, a sorcerer with an ever-expading soul bonded to oaths of pacifism and self-control. allured by the strength you decided to hide, sukuna realized this era could be far more fascinating.

chapter one: a blinding glimpse or the one you politely offered your heart to the king of curses in an attempt of mocking him.

warnings: ryomen sukuna, meet-cute (they're actively trying to kill eachother), hate to morbid curiosity, canon level of violence, blood and gore, near death experience, cannibalistic thoughts, hot villain covered in blood, sorcerers being clinically insane, satoru gojo cameo, fight style visual.

word count: [1.2K]

kill count: [0]

Observing it all from above, scarce stars battling with artificial lights to test his blurred vision, Sukuna realized he awakened in a distant era. One that overflow with life, he assumed.

He could hear it all. At every dark street and its endless crossroads kids would bid their farewells and run back home. Wind carried the hiss of kettles and brush of soles against old rugs. Sukuna reveled in the harmony reverberating inside each and every human blissfully unaware of the hungry void lurking above.

Offenses cowardly whispered, commands shouted, nauseating confessions. How many voices. So much unnecessary noise. Sukuna’s initial deduction was proven correct in a matter of seconds. Life overflows in every moldy corner. Surviving isn’t a concern in this brand-new world, and herds born for slaughter confuse not having a predator with having strength.

It truly is a perfect era to destroy, considering the reek of sorcerers nearby.

I was brought back, Sukuna rejoiced as the receptacle resisted his presence. To a world build to be torn apart, Sukuna laughed as an extravagant sorcerer dared use him as a training dummy. Nothing good will came out of this, Sukuna felt a shiver on his nape.

A thunder silenced the world. Wall after wall shattered as the impact of a lightning bolt threw Sukuna inside the building. Involved by a dense layer of dusty, Sukuna regained balance. Pearly white waves danced above his skin. The aftermath of sheer electricity.

It didn’t burn Sukuna. It didn’t hurt him at all. A basic and quick attack lacking cursed energy and strength. Sorcerers sunk to such a low level during his slumber? Pathetic, although not surprising or disappointing. He never expected them to become stronger.

A blink later and his arrogant smile oscillated. As the energy dissipated, it was all healed. Every wound and scratch. Broken ribs and cut lips. As good as new. In an instant, all the pain inflicted in his vessel disappeared. It definitely wasn’t his doing, since Sukuna haven’t decided if this maggot was worth his time.

“Don’t ruin another school,” wind carried a new voice towards Sukuna. One tender and hospitable. It reminded him of silk. “People will question it, and then Yaga will question us.”

“His brain only works against us”, Satoru whimpered, handing Megumi the bag with his future midnight snacks. “Not an ounce of trust on our good, flawless work. When did he ever let us be?”

Looking at his pout, you giggled. “And since when did we ever let him be?”

Sukuna followed after your voice. What an alluring conversation. Two sorcerers, half-complaining and half-laughing. No remnant of dread or fright. This night, no one that spoke carried the fear of someone challenging the King of Curses.

Feeling moonlight on his flesh once more, he finally saw who dared healing his vessel. And for a moment, all Sukuna could do was stare.

A pearly mist expanded with your every breath. As if haunted by a wraith, or perhaps surrounded by a still gathering storm. It shined so brightly, floating right above your skin, in an extreme contrast with the darkness of your cursed energy.

Sukuna was staring at your soul.

A shiver travelled down your nape as his gaze burned something within you. Tilting your head, you faced Ryomen Sukuna. The weight of his presence alone could make curses beg. Staring back into his red eyes, you smirked.

The double-edged long axe on your hands glistened as you imbued it with more cursed energy. Biting the tip of your tongue, a habit you never truly escaped from, you observed the ancient predator in front of you. It was time to hunt.

Crouching down on the ground, you supported your weight on your toes. A simple change of position. Enough to make stupid curses hesitate. Why crouch down while holding an axe? Why not go straight for the throat? Why put your strength on your knees when you need it on your torso?

You saw no confusion inside Sukuna’s eyes. Only amusement.

In a fluid motion, your body floated above his. The fabric of your yukata covered the wide arch of your arm. The edge of your axe came down, cutting the concrete bellow you even far away from the ground.

As you expected, Sukuna dodged it easily. By making a fuss with your robe, you forced Sukuna to move further away in order to obtain a better view of your movements. And he moved exactly where you knew Satoru would be.

“And I am the one destroying the school?” Hands inside his pockets, Satoru forced his presence upon Sukuna. You wondered who between you three flashed the most annoying grin. “That was on you.”

In the air, you three danced. Satoru and his surgically correct dodges. Sukuna’s incessant pace of physical attacks without breaking a sweat. You forcing them both to move higher in search of the upper hand. A perfect dissonance.

 “You told the kid to let him take control”, you remembered Satoru. “Everything is on you from now on.”

“How convenient for everyone else”, Satoru hissed. “And remind me who said fighting a special curse would make this day interesting? You manifested this.”

“I can take the blame if you pay the price”, you offered. Sneaking a glance at Megumi, you checked if he was safe down there. One of Sukuna’s black nails brushed against the sash around your waist. “I’ve been craving fish and-”

Hollow.

How to define inexistence properly? How to explain the palpable feeling of lacking something? The best you can do is summarize it to a single word: red. Your teary eyes, the energy growing between Satoru’s fingertips, the fist deep into your chest. Everything was burning red.

“Don’t look away from a fight”, Sukuna mocked you, tearing your chest open. There was a certain poison in his words. “And I thought you were promising.”

Crushing your heart between his fingers, blood gushed upon his lips. Sukuna laugh echoed in the midnight sky. How uncommon. Tender and hospitable. You taste just like how you sound.

If you had cried, Sukuna would be tempted to taste your tears. If you had fallen, Sukuna would enjoy the sight of a human turning into a puddle of organs and bones. If you had screamed, Sukuna would feed on your delirious rage.

But as your right hand closed around his wrist gently, Sukuna had no reaction.

“I appreciate the compliment, Sukuna-sama”, you smiled.

Grabbing your black hairpin, the golden opal gem on the end of it reflected moonlight directly into his eyes. Wind moved your hair, framing your face and carrying its perfume directly into his nostrils.

“You can have my heart.” Piercing the still beating organ, your smile turned into a cheeky grin. “I have no need for it anymore.”

 “Yuji”, Satoru called. And just like before, there was no remnant of dread or fright in his voice. “You can come back now.”

Staring into your menacing eyes, Sukuna felt his vessel taking control over the shared body. Licking his lips, he tasted you once more. Yuji Itadori regained consciousness to find himself with a heart in his hands and teeth dangerously close to it.

Fascinating, Sukuna admitted to himself. What an interesting era to ruin.

all rights reserved to © madwomansapologist | @mwalibrary @mwashelf

[punishereditz]

Name For Myself

Pairing: Jake Seresin x f!reader

Warnings: 18 plus only! Minors DNI! DO NOT COPY! Major spoilers for Deadpool & Wolverine! Light smut. Making out. Little bit of biting. Praise. Oral. (f receiving)

AN: Look, don't ask me why I made this. I just get the feeling that hangman would love Gambit... so here we are.

Word count: 1k.

Summary: After you and Jake went on a date to see the new Deadpool movie; he can't stop using the Gambit voice.

~

Last week you and Jake went on a date to see Deadpool And Wolverine. It was opening weekend. The two of you were in anticipation to see it for months. So… the day finally rolled around, and you were not disappointed.

It was a movie experience the two of you would never forget. The jokes made you laugh until you hurt. The heartfelt moments made your chest ache. The cameos made you feel special. Through all the scenes you got a sense of deja'vu. Your childhood flashing before your eyes as you saw Jennifer Ganner, Chris Evans and Wesley Snipes reprices their iconic roles.

It made you feel everything a cinema should make you feel. It really had everything you could wish for in a movie. A funny heartfelt action movie with Hugh Jackman's 55-year-old abs, which you were still thinking about a week later. Your mind was heavy on Hugh Jackman and Jake’s mind was heavy on Channing Tatum.

Jake’s been a fan of his for years, so to see him in the film was amazing for Jake. He couldn’t stop using the Gambit voice and it was driving you crazy. It was funny, but Jake overused it. But luckily you had gotten him to ease up with it. He could use it, just not every second.

You were sitting in bed on your phone. Jake walking out of the bathroom and his eyes going to you. You looked so good. His lips curled into a mischievous smile as he approached the bed. When you felt the end of the bed dip from his weight, you looked up to see him slowly crawling up to you.

“What are you up to?”

"I'm kissing my girlfriend. That a problem?"

"Nope." You smiled and once his body was complete over you. His legs on either side of your legs and his hands on either side of your head, he leaned down. Capturing your lips in a deep passionate kiss.

Your hands went to his broad shoulders, and you softly groaned in frustration when he stopped the kiss. Pulling away. He smiled up at you and he moved down to your neck. Leaving feather like kisses up and down your neck. Softly biting the bend of your neck. A moan spilling from your lips at the feel of his teeth going into your skin and then his tongue soothing it.

He chuckled against your neck. Making a chill run down your spine. He then groaned in frustration. You were to covered up for his liking. He leaned up. Grabbing your shirt and pulling it over your head. "Hmm. That's much better." He hummed. Taking one of your breasts in his hand. Then he brought his face down, taking your nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirling around it. You gasped and arched your back when he started to suck on your nipple. He chuckled and he moved over to the other breast.

Giving it the same treatment. He squeezed your breasts. Moving off of you, he pulled the cover off of you and raised his eyebrows in surprise when he was met with the fact you weren't wearing any panties.

"No panties sweetheart?" He teased with a big grin. Getting back on top of you like a predator finally catching its prey. He looked down at your cunt. A growl escaping his lips. He gently started to rub his thumb over your clit. His smile growing wider when your body shuddered to his touch.

"My pretty girl..." His eyes stayed fixated on your cunt. Like he was in a trance. "Always so wet for me." He leaned down. Kissing along your thighs. Gently biting the soft skin. His tongue slowly licked up your clit. Your body tensing. He finally caved and he couldn't bring himself to only tease. He licked and sucked your clit just the way he knew you loved it. His mouth slowly getting soaked from your sweet arousal and his spit. He gripped your hips and pushed you further into his face. His face buried in your cunt. The more he sucked your clit, the harder his cock got. It throbbed and twitched under his towel with every breathy moan that left your perfect lips.

The way your back arched. The way your knuckles turned white from gripping the sheets around you. Your moans getting louder. When your hand gripped his hair and you bucked your hips up into his face, he knew you were close. He kept the same rhythm of his tongue, but he moved a hand away from your hip. He pushed two of his fingers in you. Curling them up. His name erupting from your mouth.

He didn't need to say anything to push you over the edge. The combination of his fingers and mouth was enough to drive you right into your sweet climax. You shouted his name as you covered his fingers and mouth in your release. It wasn't until your breathing slowed and your body relaxed when he stopped. He slowly raised up. Sucking his fingers clean. You leaned up and captured him in kiss. Tasting yourself on his mouth. Your hands ran over his back as he kissed your shoulders, your breasts, your collar bones, then your lips again.

The kiss more heated this time. He pulled back. Pulling the towel off of his waist and throwing it down. He kissed your neck, and he had to bite your skin to keep himself from laughing. An evil idea crept to his mind. He knew it would piss you off, but it was too good not to do. He couldn't help himself. He leaned up. Looking down at you.

"Do you know how long I been waiting for this one?" He had to hold back a giggle. "Ooo. I'm about to make a name for myself here." Your face dropped and you rolled your eyes. Scoffing as he used the Gambit voice.

"Are you fucking serious? I told you to stop using the Gambit voice!" He was indeed right. You were pissed off. And he knew he was about to make it even worse.

"You just make sure people know what happened here today."

"Oh my God." You rubbed a hand over your face, and you pushed him off of you. As he landed back on the bed, he started dying of laughter. Holding his stomach and feeling tears coming to his eyes from the laughter. He just laid there laughing as you went into the bathroom to clean yourself up.

Yeah, it was worth it.

[barrenclan]

"Issue #30: Time Is a Circle"

...that's why clocks are round!

The story that Cypressfoot talks about in this issue is a reference to Issue 2, where she doesn't get very far into it except saying RoseClan's name for the first time. What she does end up telling is an expanded version of Nightberry's story from Issue 7, with more details and specific character names. And yes, it does indeed confirm that Longest-Claws and an early form of his predator gang were the ones who destroyed the original lost Clans.

In the first panel on the 3rd page, I included a couple cameos of other comicker's characters. They belong to thegreatmaddu, Giogeth, Songdogx, and StarrySwirly.

If you aren't familiar with the seasonal antler cycle and are very confused by why Deepdark is covered in blood goop, he's in the process of shedding! During the summer months, while deer grow their antlers, they're covered with a fuzzy substance called velvet. This fuzz is in fact full of veins and tissue, so in mid-fall when the antlers begin to shed, they can appear very bloody as the velvet falls off, leaving those familiar, calcified pointy antlers behind.

Next issue is a big one.

Previous < > Next

[da-floof]

Poppy Playtime Chapter 3. (Spoilers)

Did anyone else feel that despite being given such individualised characteristics-the smiling critters were underutilised?

The fact that they only even showed up in the playhouse as small enemies aside from a VERY brief cameo from Dogday was annoying.

This leads me to MAJOR missed opportunity in the use of Dogday as an immediate opposing force to Catnap: having HIM be the one guiding us instead of this random kid named Ollie who we STILL know nothing about (Poppy apparently does but neglected to so much as give us a hint). I just feel that trying to get the lights on would have it perfectly into Dogdays element and worked against CatNaps sleep/night element. It would have at least given us more character to Dogday as a leader and how he goes about it.

Also we were NEVER even made aware there WERE bigger body versions of the other critters. They went on and ON about poor Theodore nearly dying and the protype saving him (by letting him be transferred in to a body anyway, which is the in game version of ‘my job here is done’ ‘but you didn’t do anything’) but we didn’t hear so much as a PEEP about DogDay or the other Bigger body versions of the critters he references. Massive missed chance for story and gameplay by not having them as antagonists, or even warring factions (half with catnap, half against etc) even a few notes detailing craftycorn painting with kids resulting in half a wall becoming a mural, Dogday being kind and bringing Stella coffee or being a general helper, hoppy stealing Stella’s coffee and going on a bender.

Catnap himself was pretty underutilised despite having creepy moments and the boss battle was just plain repetitive towards the end.

Hell, Miss Delight felt more like a ‘stalking in the night’ predator then Catnap.

There was a LOT more that could have been done with them, or even just Dogday.

[cosmo-production]

the samus cameo in kirby dreamland 3 is a tone whiplash in both a halirous way and scary way

samus this traumatized yet stone-cold bounty hunter who, trough trail and tribulations, has defeated multiple apex predators and beat two different plagues that threaten to take over the entire galaxy, both of which were sentient one them was half symbiote, half zombie plauge and the other was invasion of the body snatchers.

was taken in by race of wise sages like aliens after her parents were murderd by space pirates only for that same alien race to destroyed by the Metroid so she had her whole family die TWICE, when she was just seconds away from revenge the last metroid imprinted on her (after samus killed its actually parent btw) so she learned to empathize with it,only for THAT LITTE GUY TO DIE TOO!

THIS SAME WOMAN HAS KIRBY ON HER CONTACTS LIST!

(and I will forever hc them as drinking buddies just for the comedy of it)

And don't get me started on the implications of humans in the kirby universe

[sanjoongie]

𝐇𝕠ռ𝜚𝘺𝘦𝒅 𐐛𝗶ҽ𝒔 𝑎𝒏𝖽 ɑ 𝓢ѡℯ𝟈𝘁 𝙱ꭵ𝚝ⅇ

📗Thrill of the Hunt collab Masterlist

📗Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin (Gean-Canach Fae) x Reader x Choi San (Part Fae Part Hound of the Hunt)

📗Au: Fae au, Artist au, Writer au

📗Trope: s2l, mated pair, lovers to enemies

📗Genre: smut, angst, dark themes

📗Warnings: ⚠Please be aware of the dark themes featured in this fic⚠ imprisonment, slave/servant treatment, mentions of blood, death, violence (choking), humans kept for breeding, cannibalism, torture, broken heart, pregnancy

📗Kinks: prey/predator, penetrative sex without a barrier, knot dynamics, imprinting "mated" sex, celibate! San, feral sex, biting, baiting San into fucking you, "just the tip" mentality but from the reader!, rip-able clothes, aphrodisiac (willingly taken by reader), slight hate sex mentality, breast worship

📗Summary: after being lured to the Fae Realm by Hyunjin on a false pretense, you decide enough is enough and risk attempting to escape your pretty prison. What you didn't expect was to fall for the Fae that was sent to bring you back.

📗Word Count: 10,331

📗Dedication: @mejuii speedy beta reader @stardragongalaxy provided Txt's Kelpie! Kai cameo, @flurrys-creativity 's winged Faerie! reader & Brownie! Changbin, and finally @anyamaris 's reader makes a cameo as well as Rose! @smallfrye who let me get excited about this and bounce ideas off of her

📗Songs to listen to while reading: Seventeen's Monster, Jackson's Bullet to the heart, Ateez's New World

“Oh human!” A melodic voice called into your room. 

You sighed loudly and closed the book you had been reading. You may live in a wondrous set of rooms in a tower at the end of a valley, but it was a prison all the same.

“Hyunjin,” You sighed, “You could at least refer to me by my name.”

Hyunjin threw the doors open to the room you currently inhabited. “Ash is so dull. Like you're what comes after a great fire.”

Your mouth felt like it was full of ash. Hyunjin never hid how quickly his passion for you became ash. Now you were simply a human caught in the fae realm, his muse for creativity when he, as an immortal, could find none.

Still, Hyunjin prattled on, not swayed by his purpose. “What have you been working on?”

There was no use trying to keep it away from him. He would cajole it out of you sooner or later. You tilted your book towards him and he peered over. His intelligent and bright eyes moved with alacrity, consuming the words you had put to paper. He smiled in glee, wicked and cunning. “I know the perfect painting for that.”

This was the ever-turning of your life. You couldn't tell the pass of time, not like in the mortal realm. There were different seasons, but Hyunjin lived in a valley that was permanently caught in the throws of high summer. So the only way to judge the passing of time was your works, and the works of Hyunjin that followed after. Either he would create from inspirations of your writing or you would write from inspirations of his paintings. It was a torturous pairing, and one that you would sever, if only you could.

You had first met Hyunjin when you were a burgeoning writer. You were young and fearless but also clueless. Hyunjin had been a gorgeous temptation. His sharp mind was what lured you in, another kindred spirit of the arts. You had fallen fast for the beautiful man, but he had a secret.

“If only I could bring you back with me,” Hyunjin sighed as the sun set. He leaned against the windowsill of your tiny cottage. 

“Back to the city?” You wondered curiously, interest suddenly piqued.

Hyunjin shrugged. “It’s amazing there. So many others like us, who love the arts and want to live their lives surrounded by the arts.”

“We can go!” You jumped up, cheeks flushing at the pleased look in Hyunjin’s eyes. 

“Are you sure? Didn’t you say your elder sister frowned upon our companionship?” He quirked an eyebrow at you.

You sighed heavily. “Oh, poo, she can sit on a stick. I want to live my own life.”

Despite your elder sister's warnings about Hyunjin, your head was full of dreams of creating a life with others that honored the arts--unlike everyone else in your tiny, back water village. You followed Hyunjin, hand in hand, down your well-worn road and into the forest. Hyunjin sent you a mischievous smile when you wondered why you had left the road.

“This is a special shortcut,” he said.

A jolt of excited electricity shot through you at the thought that perhaps shortcut was an euphemism for some slap and tickle, perhaps Hyunjin would indulge you with his head between your legs like you had fantasized--

“Over here,” Hyunjin brought you back to reality, tugging your arm towards a mushroom circle.

“You’re not about to lure me to a faerie circle, are you, Jinnie?” You teased back.

“And what if I was?” Hyunjin drew you into the circle of his arms just barely hovering before the circle.

“I would follow you there,” You murmured back, drunk on his attentions.

It took a while to settle into the fact that Hyunjin was Fae. As soon as the two of you crossed over into the Fae Realm, his glamor had been dismissed. The delicate curve of his ears was the most apparent, along with the blast of his power, it practically radiated off of him, alluring and warm like the sunshine of the realm you had crossed over into. 

The sex perhaps distracted you from the majority of the way Hyunjin mindfucked you into believing this was the life you had traded for. The first time he bent you over your desk to fuck you, was titillating. 

“I’m here to give you inspiration,” he murmured into the shell of your ear.

His flowing shirt fluttered over your lower back as he pressed into you. “My muse,” he cooed and continued to enter you until he hit the end of you. 

“Hyunjin!” You whimpered, nails digging into the oak wood below you.

“This is only the beginning of the pleasures I can give to you,” Hyunjin promised. 

He urged your upper body to lift up, so that he could whisper further honeyed lies into your ear. He waxed poetic of the world the two of you would live in; he would wrap himself around you for years and you would write and he would paint and your lives would be fulfilled. 

This was when he imprinted on you, biting into your shoulder and connecting you with himself forever. You heard from the lesser Fae that imprinting was usually meant to connect two Fae, like a pact of marriage. Your heart surged when you heard this, sure in your decision to follow Hyunjin away from your mortal life.

And for a decade or two, you were so utterly in love with Hyunjin, that you grew ignorant of the way he treated you. Hyunjin kept you locked up in a wonderful tower. He told you it was to keep you safe from the other Fae, even though he was never a threat to you. He told you the tower let you view the city, the valley, all the inspiration a writer would need. And it worked. 

Until he stopped visiting your bed, stopped whispering honeyed lies about how much you meant to him. Oh, he meant every word that you meant a lot to him for he could not lie, but it was not about love, like you had been interpreting it. Hyunjin valued you for your human emotions, for your human imagination. Being immortal meant that you grew bored, you lacked any new sights, but a human--a human was full of new eyes and thus the perfect muse.

When you caught up with his trickery, it was too late. You were bound in your pretty prison, bound to repeat whatever Hyunjin wanted in order for him to live his best immortal life. And that’s when your summary, lovely, warm life started to leak its colorfulness.

You started to rebel and truly learned what it was to be at the mercy of a Fae Master. Hyunjin didn’t take well to you refusing to create anything for him. Your first set of punishment was to be worked as a servant for the Fae. You spent a spell as a food server but the atrocities you were privy to truly opened you up to the world you were trapped in. Torture was a passing amusement for Fae while they ate. You once watched a starving human be served up their own foot and ate it. 

But nothing was worse than the months you were forced to serve the humans that were kept in the breeding pits. “You should watch your tongue, mortal, before I cast you in with that lot,” Hyunjin had threatened you when you broke your quill and threw your book out of your window.

Certain humans were kept in a series of cells in the very tower you were trapped in, unbeknownst to you. The Ciaradh court loved to study humans and they were constantly obsessed with creating new young. Some Fae theorized that getting a human fat with child was easier than bunnies fucking in spring, so there was a dedication to seeing if it was so true. 

There were chances when said breeding humans were ‘walked’, for their benefit of course. Hyunjin would also, upon feeling like boasting of his Human Muse, take you for a walk in the beautiful cultivated gardens surrounding the tower. Of the flowers that grew there, there was one that was a washed-out blue, a rose that seemed to get skimmed over, but you were drawn to it. It was an imperfect color that reminded you of the skies in the human realm, unlike the perfect summer-sky blue that this realm always seemed to maintain.

You remembered this particular poor human, in a ratty white dress that barely covered her modesty, whom you had fed in the breeding pits. This one you found a few times smiling at a bluebird singing to her. You had fondly called her Rose, for you two were the only ones who admired the washed-out blue rose that the Fae sneered at for its imperfection--that only made it more beautiful to the two of you. 

Back to the current time, where Hyunjin was painting something dark and seductive--which matched your mood to a T from your writings that you showed him. You couldn't help but resent the fact that he could still pull creatively from you, despite your connection to him remaining solely in the fact that he had imprinted on you because of his ambitions.

Hyunjin put down his paintbrush and sent a look your way; you knew what that look meant, he was going to torture you. You were starting to wonder if physical torture might be preferred to the methods Hyunjin enjoyed.

“Doesn’t she look like she’s enjoying herself?” Hyunjin wondered at his painting. 

The painting wasn’t completed but you couldn't help but agree. The human lady in question, flowing robes not bothering to conceal her nakedness, had a Fae at her throat and a Fae between her legs. She was giving and taking, caught between violence and passion; exactly where you wanted to be.

“Yes,” You said dryly.

“Oh, come on now!” Hyunjin stood up from his stool, “No need to be jealous!”

“I’m hardly jealous, Hyunjin,” You spat.

Hyunjin’s eyes, dark and cruel, focused on you. “That’s right. It could be worse. I could throw you to the hounds, see if they eat you up or create a new mongrel for the court.”

Your anger seethed through you, fear interwoven within. “You’re so very considerate,” You replied blandly, attempting not to rise to Hyunjin’s barbs, even though you knew he could tell exactly how you felt, through your bond.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. “You’re no fun anymore, human.”

When Hyunjin left, you threw a fit. You threw books and tore papers, spilled ink and broke quills. And when you were done letting your anger course through you, you were left with a broken heart and a near-broken mind. You couldn't do this anymore, you simply couldn't. Centuries more like this and you were likely to truly go mad, and the worst thing was, that would delight Hyunjin all the more. That you could not let happen.

You had to escape.

You knew what happened to humans who ran. The stories were practically drummed into you after Hyunjin broke your heart but wanted to dissuade you from even risking the chance. You knew the consequences, the repercussions. But what if you could twist and tailor this escape to benefit you? You had lived amongst the Fae long enough to have learned a trick or two. 

For weeks, the plan coiled and formed in your mind. If you ran, Hyunjin’s bond would direct him where you were. But Hyunjin was a spoiled rotten Fae, he wouldn’t dirty his hands and go after you. He would run back to his parents, for he was from the Oidhche court originally. When you were still starry-eyed for the Fae world, Hyunjin would fill you with stories from the darker realm. He told you of how they would hunt humans for sport, to make you squeal and giggle. But you distinctly remember the stories about the Hound.  

The Hound was a cautionary tale but a useful one. During one of the many wars between the courts, a Fae Hound had been changed from a dog to a humanoid form. It had been a way to save one Fae from fighting teeth and claws. That Hound had survived the war, miraculously, and gone on to settle down with a Fae woman. They had copulated and made a child, who much to the horror of the mother, had his father’s characteristics that he had kept hidden. The child was left at the mercy of the dark forest within the Oidhche court’s borders, but had grown up, albeit a bit more wild than most Fae children, which was saying something, really. That Hound Child was indebted to Hyunjin’s father who had taken him in, and that particular Fae would be sent to bring you back.

How were you going to escape when a Fae who was part Hound of the Hunt was tracking you? Well, you had an answer for that. You see, Hyunjin had also taken great glee in telling you said Hound was celibate, and had been for as long as Hyunjin could remember. So if you could offer the hound sex, tempt him with breaking his vow, he would be forsworn and nothing meant more to a Fae than his word. He would be worthless and without standing in his court. He would be… at the same level as a human, basically a death sentence. You could work with that. You would need a liquid aphrodisiac to prepare yourself for the seduction but you knew in your gut you would need more to seduce a century’s old Fae.

Hyunjin found your rooms the next day in ruins. But the true fact that actually made his face cloud over in anger was his ruined painting. That sent you to servants quarters. They put you on duty to the breeding pits, delivering their pittance of food. 

You found Rose in a bad place and yet still she found a smile for you. An idea struck. It was very clear that Rose was recovering from a game played with her body and a Fae. You told Rose of your idea to escape and asked to exchange your clothes for the provocative dress that covered Rose’s body.

“Are you sure about this?” You couldn't help but worry that Rose would get in trouble for losing her dress.

Rose’s smile was strong despite her fragile appearance. “Even if they take it from me tomorrow, at least I’ll have slept in some clean clothes that were warm for one night.”

Rose’s attitude, despite what the world had thrown at her, only made you steel your spine. You were going to be like Rose and persevere. You were going to leave this place behind. 

Hyunjin’s visits, however, were throwing you in a loop. You had a pack prepared and stashed for weeks before you were given an opportunity. If you left and Hyunjin found you gone too quickly, your escape would be pointless. So you had to wait until Hyunjin visited you next but there was no rhyme or reason to Hyunjin’s visits. 

All you could do was work on perhaps the last thing you might write in your human life. 

You wrote a story thinking of your sister, of your childhood, of how not everything was better on the other side of the grass. You wrote and distracted yourself and soon enough Hyunjin visited. You showed him your work, his eyes gleamed with inspiration and then he visited for three days before his painting was finished. And if you were honest with yourself, his painting was one of his best in decades.

Hyunjin eyed you curiously. “What’s got you suddenly so fired up? You haven’t written something that refreshing in years?”

You shrugged. “I’ve got a new lover.”

Hyunjin blinked at you blankly for a few seconds and then burst into laughter. He would have felt your lust if you were having sex with someone else through the bond. He knew how lonely you were for companionship, it practically wafted off of you when he visited. Hyunjin clutched his arms around his belly before finally he wiped some tears from his eyes. “Well, whatever it is, keep it up. I might let you come back to court if you do.”

Honeyed lies were Hyunjin’s specialty. He had you living off hopes and dreams forever until you let your love for him die for him. He would promise the world and mean it but there was no keeping track of the amount of loopholes he could find. He was Fae after all. 

Once Hyunjin left, you could hardly contain yourself until nightfall. Then, during when the moon rose to its highest peak, you stole into the night in a dress that would lure every predator out. You ducked your head and told each guard passing that you were finally destined for the pits. They either made noises of sympathy or laughed at your demise, having seen you with Hyunjin during one time or another. 

That was how you made your way down the Tower. At the base, you brightly informed that guard that Hyunjin had finally taken you back. You watched as a romantic look passed through his eyes and he let you go. For Fae that twisted the truth to their own benefit, slipping through them as a lying human sure was satisfying. 

You pulled out a map and followed the landmarks to quickly get out of Ciaradh and cross over into Oidhche territory. Hyunjin would think you were an idiot, moving closer to the Fae that would be hunting you but that was all a part of your plan. You wanted the Hound to find you. 

First things first, you had to get out of Ciaradh. 

The various cities were easy to avoid. It was the faerie mounds and valleys that made it hard to travel. There was nowhere to hide. Just the beautiful rolling hills, which was the other reason why you wanted to get to Oidhche. 

There was one place that you spotted and thought perhaps it would give you relief. A tree had fallen high atop a hill. With its roots still clinging to the earth, it made an impromptu overhang. You’re not sure if an ogre had knocked down the beautiful, solitary tree or perhaps the earth was simply taking back what once it gave, but either way, the hair on your arms rose with the feel of power once you reached the shadow of the overhang. 

This was a well of the natural magic of the Fae realm. With it, you would be hidden from the majority of any Fae magic. The natural magic simply messed with anything else. Except you weren’t the only one that thought that it was a good hiding place for a human fleeing. 

During the early morning after you had slumbered in the well of magic, you heard talking and shouting, waking you up immediately. “Oh, Yeon-Yeon, are you hiding here?”

You froze as an adorable female Fae with wings poked their head from the top of the overhang. “You’re not my human,” she said, clearly perplexed. “He’s not here, Binnie!” The head disappeared and you thought perhaps your luck won out. It had not.

The female fairie yanked you by your arm and half flew, half dragged you out to show the other Fae she was with, that you were, in fact, not ‘Yeon-Yeon’. You protested and ended up landing on your ass in front of a very buff Brownie. “I told you he isn’t smart enough to hide here!” She scoffed.

He frowned down at you, arms having a hard time crossing over his chest, but contemplated you with a hand at his chin. “But I swore I smell him this way.”

“Are you sure we can’t just take this one? She’s adorable too!” The female cooed at you. You slapped her hand when she reached to bop your nose. 

Binnie’s frown deepened. “No. We have to find OUR human, Heart. This is not our hunt. And you know we must respect another’s hunt. Now respect ours and leave that human.”

The female sighed heavily. “Fine. I don't like that one anymore anyways. She’s not that cute if she slaps.”

After your encounter with the two Fae, you continued to hit your streak of bad luck. You almost got lured into a satyr’s traveling party, where the music got your feet tapping and dancing, and you would never stop. As a human, it was a death sentence. You ate a flower that you thought you read gave you night vision but in fact made you believe the opposite of everything you thought true. You almost backtracked a full day before it wore off--your feet trying to take you back to Hyunjin. 

You almost cried in relief when you saw a dark forest in the distance. That was the territory marker for Oidhche. You had felt Hyunjin’s rage a few nights ago zoom through your bond and you knew that the hound would be sent to retrieve you. The second part of your plan was about to come into effect and you couldn't help but be excited. And that’s when you downed the Faerie Dew, preparing to seduce a Fae.

🐕🐕🐕

“Get up, Hound.”

A boot kicked San’s foot and he rolled his eyes upwards slowly in response. “Hyunjin,” He acknowledged.

Hyunjn’s eyes scrunched up into half moons, malicious delight beaming from them. “I’ve got a job for you.”

“I don't do jobs for you,” San retorted and closed his eyes again.

“It’s an order from my father,” Hyunjin said tightly.

San sighed heavily. “What is it?”

“It’s time for you to hunt down a little lost human,” Hyunjin revealed.

San rolled his eyes and stood up. He rolled his neck, cracking it dramatically. “Why do I feel like this has to do with you?”

To say that San did not like Hyunjin was an understatement. San was a useful tool to have in the household he was adopted into but Hyunjin was the prized son. Where San was made to work and toil, sneered at by the majority of his peers, Hyunjin was sought after, praised and elevated. The two had never liked each other; Hyunjin because San was the son his father chose and San Hyunjin because he was never a beloved son. 

“It doesn’t matter why the command was given, just follow it like the good little doggie you are,” Hyunjin sneered.

“At least I didn’t flee my family because I couldn't live up to their expectations,” San shot back, balling his fists and readying for a fight.

But San would get none. Hyunjin’s power was not in his fists but in his words. “Go fetch my scraps, doggie. That’s all you’re good for, after all.” Hyunjin threw a piece of personal clothing of yours at San and turned around.

Every muscle in San’s body tensed but he knew he could not attack his benefactor’s son. He would lose the tiny foothold he had in the Oidhche Court, however tiny it was, it was something he clung to. He would always want to be a part of the Fae, to prove he was worthy of remaining amongst them; that he was not an animal.

Hyunjin walked away, confident that he came out on top, and from his point of view, he had. But San had the true last word. 

“I’ll fetch her and come back and be told that I am his most worthy son, that you are worthless, and that I should have been born to him.”

🐕🐕🐕

San transformed to his other form, a Hound of the hunt, in order to use his abilities to the best. His sleek, powerful form ran through the Oidhche dark woods and marshes, ruins and lakes. He followed your scent, nose to the ground, taking only time to drink water and rest only minutes at the time. His endurance could take him far but his determination even farther.

Something San did not call was that he would encounter another Fae on the hunt. He drew abreast with a horse that was not a horse. San recognized Kai in his other form, the dark horse with long fangs, a Kelpie. 

Kai, like himself, was a bit of an outcast within the Oidhche court. Kai had slowly become blind when he changed courts and was looked down upon, like San was as a half-breed. They weren’t friends but more like allies in a world that saw them as the bottom of the barrel of Fae.

Kai threw his head to signal that they should veer towards a nearby lake and San barked in reply. The two of them slowed their pace and then changed forms, to speak to each other. 

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” San said first, cupping his hands and pouring water over his head from the lake. 

Kai looked amused. “I’m hunting a human but what’s your excuse?”

“Fetching trash for the master’s son,” San grumbled.

Kai’s amusement slowly melted away. “You should snap it’s neck then.”

San ran a hand through his hair, shaking out access water, and stood up. “Wish I could. You know we can never interfere with a hunt. An escaped human is an escaped human.”

Kai’s slightly amused expression was back and present. San recognized it as Kai’s default face, the mask he wore at court. “Then we should do what’s in our power to help each other out.” Kai gestured with his chin towards the lake that spanned far and wide. “I’ll help you cross the lake.”

San shutdown the feeling of gratitude and surprise he felt immediately. Kai wouldn’t be able to see it anyways but his court training of not truly revealing what he felt kicked in regardless. “That would be appreciated.”

Kai waded into the water and changed form once again. This was his third form, his truest form. His upper half was that of a horse and the lower part of a fish. San rode on Kai’s upper back, amazed at the speed of the kelpie. That lower half that was tail helped them sail through the lake’s waters and Kai’s Kelpie presence kept all the other, nastier, baser Fae away. What would have been hours of circling around the lake was cut in half as Kai swam through the center of the lake and delivered San on the other shore.

Kai changed back to his human form to rest but jauntily saluted San as San turned back into a hound and went back to his hunt.

📗📗📗

Your attitude once you were inside the dark forest was a bit 50/50. Your heart was in your throat, knowing at any moment a Fae Hound would be on your heels, and you were excited for that, but what if he never changed into his human form? What if he simply clamped his jaws around your wrist and dragged you back to his master…back to Hyunjin?

Soon, you felt like the forest was fighting against you. Branches tore at your bare arms as if they were trying to slow you down. Roots threw themselves in your way, trying to trip you up. Noises, that which you had never heard during the years you had lived in the Fae Realm, haunted you. There was a small part of your human mind that knew you shouldn’t be here but was that a part of the dark spell that was this forest or was that instinct kicking in for you to survive?

Your lower half was slick and wet, preparing for someone to fuck you and that conflicted with your state of mind. How could you be so turned on but so terrified about what was around each thick, gnarled tree trunk? Did your heart beating in your throat add to the throbbing of your cunt? It had been so very long since the last time Hyunjin had fucked you, perhaps this hadn't been a good idea to tempt yourself, and fate, like this…

A loud howl broke through your inner thoughts and you shivered in response. The hound had found you. You knew it in your bones that this was the defining moment that would free you… or break you.

You broke out into a run, stumbling at first and then becoming hyper aware of everything. The rocks that you had to jump over, ducking under low-hanging branches, you ran in the opposite direction of where the howl had sounded. 

“Please, please, please, please,” You chanted to yourself. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes, the need to fuck and to survive prompting them. You dashed them away with the back of your hand. That wasn’t going to help.

Soon, the howls began to get closer, and you could hear sharp barks. Did he smell your scent as a human or did he smell how wet your sex was? Was he eager for the hunt or for your cunt? Your heart and mind were working a million miles per second, the unknown playing with your mind. 

A growl made you jump and you almost tripped and hit the ground. You caught yourself, pushing back up and running. You didn’t dare look back, afraid you would lose your courage in completing this if you did. You did hear a snapping of jaws and a snarl and you hoped that your planning would all work out in the end. It had to.

You gasped as something hard and real slammed into you and you finally fell. There were no nails digging into your shoulder blades nor teeth snapping at you, so you felt relief to know that the hound had changed into his humanoid form and sealed his fate.   

The snarl in your ear was just as real as the body pressed up against you, pushing you into the soft, forest floor. The snarling tampered down to a quiet, curious growl. You could feel puffs of air along the skin behind your ear and then down your neck. Your pulse was beating wildly and you were worried for a moment that instead of this moment pushing towards lust, it would turn towards bloodshed like its original intent.

You pushed your ass back into the body above you and the snarling started up again. “Do not struggle, human, it’s futile.” The one on top of you was Fae, you knew that, but his melodic voice was not what you had expected. 

“I think you like the struggle, pup,” You shot back at him. 

You pushed and rubbed your ass further into the hard body and struggled to halt your smirk. You could feel him hard against the soft material of your dress. His hips pressed forward to pin you harder but he only managed to choke on a moan at the friction.

Just as soon as your body had been pushed against the ground, you were flipped over and hauled up with a harsh hand around your upper arm. The sharp cut of his jaw and cheekbones almost took the breath from your lungs, despite living amongst the beautiful fae for so long. 

The hound opened his mouth to probably threaten you some more but no sound left it. His eyes scanned over your dress, that was ripped in a few places that definitely aided in your plan. The globes of your breasts were pushed up, the swell of your hips framed by the cut-outs in the dress, it was the perfect peekaboo dress.

His eyes snapped upwards to meet yours. “Where did you get such a garment?”

You smiled sweetly. “I live amongst the Fae. Is it so odd to acquire a few pieces of their beautiful clothing?”

The hound shook his head, almost as if he needed to clear it. “I’m taking you back now.”

You were still in close proximity, so you boldly pressed your hand to his tight leather pants. “This poses a problem, does it not?”

The whimper that escaped the hound’s lips made you clench your thighs tightly together. Anger immediately radiated from him. “Stop with your human tricks.”

You cocked your head. “Tricks? But I’m a mere human. What could I possibly offer?” The heel of your hand grinded down on the head of his cock and he gasped softly. 

The hound grabbed your wrist and wretched your hand from his cock. His shoulders moved slightly, indicating you’ve got his breathing increased at least. “I am under a vow of celibacy, you will cease your antics.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “A willing vow of celibacy?”

The hound kept his grip on your wrist and began to tug you back the way he came. “I am a mongrel; I cannot further pollute the bloodlines,” He muttered over his shoulder.

You tugged back, trying to halt your movement, but just ended up slamming into the broad back of the Fae sent to bring you back to your life of torture and tedium. “I’m not Fae. You won’t muck up my bloodlines.”

You felt rather than heard the sigh from the hound. “A vow is a vow. Now, be quiet, it was hard enough tracking you down from one kingdom to another.”

Instead, you wrapped your arms around his tiny waist, fingers tracing his padded leather armor. “We don’t have to head back so soon,” you purred.

Once again, you were manhandled. Both of his hands clamped down on your wrists. With movement speed beyond a human’s comprehension, you were whisked around his body and pinned up against a tree now, your wrists in manacles made by his hands, the bark digging into your back.

“I don’t know what your intentions are, and I do not want to know. All I know is that I’ve been ordered to track a human pet that’s escaped from the Ciaradh kingdom and to drag her back. I’ve been ordered to bring you back alive but accidents can happen.” And in all his righteous anger, he was a glory to behold. You had struck gold, to be hunted by such a Fae.

You licked your lips in anticipation. You hooked one of your legs around his slim waist and arched your back. “Is it really breaking your vow if you slid into me just a wee bit? Surely getting your tip wet isn’t against the rules.”

You watched as the hound’s adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed. “Why do you tempt me?” He whined, perhaps already feeling the temptation you were offering.

“You are temptation itself,” You whispered back. Your eyes moved over his features, strong and handsome. “How could one not want to tempt you?”

He scoffed, looking away. “You are a human drunk on Fae magic.”

“I have lived for a long time amongst the Fae. Their magic isn’t as strong as it used to be on me. I speak no lies,” You pushed.

The hound examined you for a moment, pursed his lips and then looked away again. “You could be lying about a lie, you are human after all, and do not have to adhere to our ways.”

“What do they call you, hound?” You wondered, feeling yourself falling into your own trap, in a way.

The hound’s eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion. “Why? I am nothing.” He shook his head. “You are a peculiar human.” When he saw you still waiting patiently, he professed his name was San. 

“San,” You tested it out, like it was candy on your tongue. “It’s a good name to scream during ecstasy.”

You watched as his eyes changed, a fraction from his righteous anger, to curiosity. He simply did not understand why you were offering what you were. Surely he was used to the games the Fae played, he was one of them after all. But he did mention he was a mongrel. Perhaps he did not get treated as one of them?

You took the moment to wrap your other leg around his waist. San’s arms flexed to balance out the weight so that your upper half was still pinned successfully as your lower half pressed against him. “I’m offering a taste. Don’t you want it?”

“I have been celibate for more years than you have been trapped here,” San whispered, a tinge of sadness coating his words.

You weren’t sure when was the last time Hyunjin touched you. It had been so long that you gave up ever hoping for it again. It was odd to have such a thing in common with one of them. Your body was practically singing for San. This was how you survived but couldn't you perhaps enjoy it as well?

You rolled your body against San’s again, groaning lowly when your completely uncovered bottom half ran against San’s leather-covered groin. “Please.”

San’s precarious control snapped like a leash on a feral dog. His lips slanted over yours, tongue tangling with yours. His hands released your wrists and connected at the small of your back, urging your body against his. He sighed into your mouth, this time of relief instead of defeat, still kissing you in earnest, messy and full of saliva. Your hands curled around his jaw in an attempt to hold him in place, to gain control, but there was none of that with San. 

He led the pace and the pace was grueling. He was rutting against you and you were very sensitive due to the aphrodisiac, the Faerie Dew, you had drunk. “Wait, wait,” You protested against his mouth, “You should be inside me, not against me.”

San panted heavily now, eyes wary and dangerous. “I should not. We can circumvent my vow this way. Simply take what I can give you, human.”

His sentence gave you a bad taste in your mouth, similar to how you felt after interactions with Hyunjin.

“Oh human!”

“My name is Ash,” You snapped. 

San narrowed his eyes on you. “And I'm the Fae in charge of hunting you down. The Hound. We all know our place by now.”

You reached between your bodies and desperately pulled at the ties of his pants, undoing them and revealing something mouth-watering. Hyunjin had always been long and slender, but San’s cock was heavy and thick, something that looked like it deserved to part lower lips. “Goddess,” you cursed under your breath.

“Just the tip, right?” San reminded you, tongue coming out to lick his lips.

“Just the tip,” You reassured him and then sunk down on his cockhead.

You both groaned in unison, eyes rolling into the back of your heads. You started to move your hips when San’s hands grasped them hard. “Don’t move,” He ordered you.

“I plan on doing more than moving,” You informed him, lifting a little only to push him further into your heat.

“You--you can’t,” San whined, his eyes getting a faraway look. 

“Who would imagine, a Fae pussy-drunk on a human’s cunt.”

San’s eyes sharpened on you. He pulled out of you completely and you almost cried out at the loss before he slammed into you full-hilt. Your breath was caught in your throat at that moment. You were so full and he was so thick--

“What’s wrong, Ash, stupid from my dumb mongrel cock?” San hissed into your ear. His nose ran along your neck, inhaling deeply.

“It’s so--” You desperately shook your head. You had a plan to enact, you couldn't afford to fall into the lust so deeply. Your life depended on this.

The hard snap of San’s hip against you had your body jolting. San’s eyes zeroed in on the mounds of your breast bouncing because of his harsh pace. He withdrew and then snapped into you, his head dipping low to lick the tops of your breasts. “So good,” He growled.

You wrapped your arms around San’s head, pushing him into your bosom. “Indulge in me,” You encouraged him.

“I--” San raised his head, looking as if he was barely treading water from his lust-filled mind.

“Take it,” You whispered, pressing your forehead back to his. “Take what’s freely offered. Take what you’ve been denied.”

San’s eyebrows furrowed again, pain and pleasure etched across his strong features. “I can?”

You reached down to the neckline of your dress and ripped it effectively freeing your breasts. “You can have whatever you want, San.”

It was off to the races after that. With the freedom to indulge, to experience, to take what he had been denied for so long, San was lost in his urges. He licked and sucked all over your breasts, leaving marks and bites, even whimpering when he fought over the need to hold them in place or leave his hands on your hips so he could hold you in place. His thrusts were calculated sometimes, looking to hit that sweet spot inside of you, to hear your moans of his name. The rest was lost to his passion, fucking into your wet pussy in search of his climax. 

“Oh, Goddess, yes,” You cried out, feeling your climax approach. “Fill me up, pup.”

San’s eyes took on a look of fear for a moment. “I can’t!” You realized you had said the wrong thing. 

“You can, you can!” You held his head between your hands, making him focus on just you. “I’m just a useless human cunt, right? You can just fuck me like you were fucking your hand. It’s the same thing.”

San shook his head. “It’s not the same. You don’t look at me with derision or perverse pleasure. You don’t play with me, you encourage me, you…”

You began to panic. Where was the feared Hound, the legendary Fae from the Oidhche court, who executed others with his teeth dug into their jugular, just at the whim of his master? Who was this creature peeking out of the mask, looking for softness, looking for heart? Fuck, what was that pushing feeling at the base of San’s cock?

You looked down and took San’s gaze with you as well. He paled at the sight of the base of his cock pushing outwards, almost as if-- “Nonono,” San began to chant, “I cannot--!”

You had to throw all caution to the wind, despite the worry that you were about to be connected to a Fae for a few hours, by the looks of things. Not what you wanted when you were about to make said Fae break a very important oath, but there was no avoidance of it, it seemed.

“Follow your instincts,” You whispered before slanting your lips over his. Your teeth tugged playfully with his bottom lip. “Let us both see the stars behind our eyes, come on, San.”

San whined but thrusted up into your cunt. “So close,” he allowed, closing his eyes as if he couldn't witness his own treachery. 

You moved your body up and down on his length, encouraging his head into your bosom once again. “Fuck me San, fuck me full of your cum, release inside of me, release your beast, let yourself go.”

With a loud howl, his back arched and his head thrown back, San ejaculated inside of you. He panted and sighed and then the knot at the base of his dick stopped, the copious amount of cum he had just dumped inside of you, firmly sealed inside of you. The knot pushed against your g-spot and sent you into a spiraling orgasm you didn’t see coming. 

You gasped, squeezing San even tighter to your breasts. “That’s it, pup, fuck, that feels so good.”

With a precious look sent up towards you, filled with raw emotion, San closed his eyes and then bit onto the mound of your tit. You were so deep into your climax that you almost didn’t register the pain but the flood of emotions that weren’t your own into your skull sure let you know what you had let happen a second time…

“San!” You panicked. “You! You imprinted on me!” What did that mean? Wait…

“Mine,” San said drowsily. A wave of satisfaction was felt through the new bond as he lazily lapped at your breast and then he started to sink to the ground.

“San? San!” You protested, your dress barely protecting you against the bark rubbing against you as you sunk with him.

“Tired,” He mumbled. His tongue absent-mindedly licked at his bite. 

You had a dick tight inside of you, a large Fae slumped against you, and your tit hurt from a bite. This was not really how you were looking to finish this plan but perhaps this worked even better in your favor. 

📗📗📗

“What have you done?!” 

That rage and fear woke you up reasonably fast. 

“What I had to do to get what I wanted,” You replied quickly.

“I have broken my vow!” San moaned, pacing a few steps from you.

You preened at your success. “And thus, you cannot go back. They will see your word broken. You will be worthless.”

San stopped his pacing. “...you planned this?”

“I've lived here for centuries and you think I'd just up and run away?” You sneered at him. “I may be human but I am not stupid.”

“And now I've even imprinted on you!” San looked horrified.

“That was your fault, I didn't do--” 

Your words were choked off as San’s hands wrapped around your throat, long nails digging into the thin flesh of your neck. Your fingers clawed at him to let you go. San bared his teeth at you, peaks of fangs flashing between his lips that had previously been kissing you. A mental image of San’s raw glance before he bit you rushed through your mind and you whimpered. 

San let you go just as fast as he started choking you. “You have ruined my life.”

You choked and coughed and gasped for air and choked again. “And I'd do it again. I'd do anything for my freedom.”

San started pacing again. “What is freedom when you have a home? You live in the Fae Realm, your life extended. All your days are warm and you do what you love. What is it that you're running away from?”

That's when it hit you. You weren't connected to Hyunjin anymore. You didn't have to feel anything of his mind or emotions again. You were finally free. You smiled in glee. 

“It's not what I'm running away from, it's what I'm running towards,” You rasped.

San sent you a look that could have cut diamonds. “Do not wax poetic to me, human. I will only fall for it once.”

You raised your chin. “You will escort me to the nearest mushroom circle. I will leave this place.”

San shook his head, grinning and shaking his head. “You are truly not right in the head! What if you crumble into a pile of dust once you leave?”

“Then I will die disconnected from a man who broke my heart and that will make me happy,” You said firmly.

San carded his hand through his hair in frustration. “I can feel how determined you are!” He didn't say anything about the broken heart. 

“And I'll have died after having some of the best sex I've ever had in my entire life.” San didn't need to know your only comparison was a village boy named Jake, Hyunjin and now he.

San frowned hard at you. “You still smell like it.”

“There's a lake back there--” 

San stepped in your way. “No, you won't bathe there.”

You fetched your pack and changed into the set of clothes in there. “Make up your mind, San.”

You examined the bite on your breast mid-change, tutting at the mark that was now going to be there for the rest of your life. You patted your shoulder for the mark you had on your shoulder but without a mirror, you were unsure if it had healed or it would remain as well, even though it was nothing more than a scar rather than a tool to use against you. 

“Do you have anything for the bite?” He asked.

“I have only food, water and clothing. I wanted to pack lightly for the journey,” You admitted.

San sighed. “I…I have a power. They don’t let me use it--I don’t want to use it! But… I’ve seen what happens to Fae when the one they’re imprinted with dies, so I will help you.”

You eyed him cautiously. “Pardon me if I don’t jump at the offer.”

“I’m not! Trying to trick you!” San insisted. His face was open and honest. 

But still, your trust was not easily won. You shook your head. “No. You’ve done enough damage.”

“Fine!” San huffed and immediately turned back into his hound form.

You swallowed hard, memories of that same hound hot on your heels, chasing you through the woods--you couldn't help it when a whimper escaped your throat.

San’s head cocked in curiosity and he padded over to you closely. You held still as he sniffed your head. You couldn't help but ease a bit when he licked your cheek. And then he licked your wound that you left uncovered in hopes it would heal in the open air. But when the bite started to tingle, you yelped backwards from him.

“What did you do?!” You demanded.

San whined and dug a foot into the soft ground. It seemed somewhat of an apology.

But when you looked down next, you watched as the bite healed. Oh, the scar was there, but it was as if it was days, even weeks healed. Did San’s tongue have healing abilities? Perhaps it was a result of his mixed heritage. 

You shook your finger at him. “Just because you're in dog form, that doesn’t mean I won’t hit you!”

San’s head lowered and then he began to sniff the ground. He slowly followed its meander trail until he was almost in between your legs. You slapped his snout and he yelped. “I get it, I smell like sex, that does not excuse your nose from going to where it shouldn’t.”

San sneezed and you rolled your eyes. “Can you lead us to the nearest faerie ring or not?”

You followed San in hound form in a quick jog, the pace that the hound of the hunt set grueling for someone who spent the majority of their time sitting and writing. San would only wait for a few minutes as you gasped for breath and then he would bark sharply at you and you two would start running again. 

“San! San, I can’t.” Eventually you called it quits, collapsing at a copse. 

San transformed into his human form and sent you a disappointed look. “We would be twice as far if you weren’t a human.”

“Sorry I can’t change into a dog,” You spat.

“No but you sure are a bitch,” San spat back.

“Takes one to know one,” You retorted.

The two of you snapped and snarled at each other for the entire journey it took to get to the nearest faerie ring. This one was located deep in one of the dark forests, surrounding a tree that had a gap in the front of it; almost as if it was a door to the Mortal Realms. 

“I can’t believe it.” It was almost too good to be true, that your plan had truly worked out and you were finally escaping the Fae--and leaving your past mistakes behind you. You knew the chances were slim that your sister was still alive, but if you had the chance to apologize to her, to tell her she had been right…

San stood a ways off, looking very closed off. “It’s not that different,” you conceded to him.

“I’ve never been there,” San admitted, face still very shut down.

“If a fragile human can live in your world,” You sent a knowing look his way.

You watched as San visibly straightened and shook his head. “You’re right.”

“Imagine that,” You muttered under your breath. 

The two of you stood shoulder to shoulder, and for a moment, you were both equals. You were unsure, San was unsure, and neither of you wanted to be the first. So when you brushed San’s hand against his, and after a moment of hesitation he took it, you both stepped through the faerie ring and back into the Mortal Realms

📗📗📗🐕🐕🐕

It was a rough month when you crossed over. You were very lucky that only a day had passed in the Mortal Realms instead of centuries. You found your sister and she was in tears that you had left but you had a lot of explaining to do--especially when you came back with a different man that you had left with. 

Eventually, with help from your sister, you and San were able to settle into a cottage that was in the next village over from where your sister still lived. For better or for worse, you and San had imprinted and that basically meant you two were married, so the illusion had to be maintained. You wrote and found a publisher in the closest big city, earning some coin in that regard, but San became a hunter for the surrounding villagers and that was truly how you were able to survive.

Regardless of how much San informed you on the daily that you had ruined his life and it was your fault he had to work for his keep, you saw a change in the Fae. The village was more than happy to receive the kills he took from the forest, unaware he actually took down the prey in his other form. San was very easily received in the village and that seemed to be the turning point for him. Other hunters and men of the village joked with him and you saw him lose the sharp edges he had acquired growing up in the Fae Realm.

One morning, when San had risen from your shared bed with the sun, to hunt, you lurched from the bed yourself and barely found your basin before you threw up into it. 

San wrinkled his nose at you, one leg lifting to be put into his boot. “If you’re sick--” He paused, sniffing the air and then his eyes widened. You felt fear and hope surge through your bond with him.

You waved him off. “I’m sure it’s nothing you can catch.”

San blushed and that threw you off. He quickly put both his boots on and found a cloth for you to wipe your face with. You stared at him with intense scrutiny. Although the two of you lived like husband and wife, San didn’t go out of his way to be kind to you. You were the reason he was reduced to a mortal’s boring life, after all. 

“Ash…” San offered his hand to you, and you took it, but you were confused.

“What’s going on?” You demanded. 

San looked a bit bashful, running his thumb over the back of your hand. “You are going to have to endure a change in me. It is a part of a Fae male to become extremely territorial when their partner is pregnant--”

“Excuse you!?” You screeched.

San flinched at your volume. “You’re pregnant, Ash.”

You blinked at him several times, still unable to comprehend. “But we haven’t…”

San’s eyes shot upwards to the ceiling. “It only takes one time.”

You felt your knees weaken and San quickly escorted you to your bed to sit. “It can’t be.”

“I can smell the change in your smell. You have morning sickness. Have you bled since we’ve been back?” San inquired gently.

You shook your head. “I just thought my body was adjusting from one realm to the other, I didn’t--”

A child only bound the two of you tighter. Your heart sank. San was only going to hate you more for this. “I promise, I didn’t plan this!” You protested.

“Human,” San started and you felt anger surge through you. 

“Don’t you dare make our baby hate me, you will not refer to me as such in their presence!”

San, the bugger, had the audacity to smile shyly. “I would never think of it.”

You frowned. “Why are you being so weird? Why aren’t you yelling at me?”

San shrugged. “I told you. Things are going to change.”

And change they did. Your sister was ecstatic. Not completely won over by San personally, she still admitted he was a good provider and in the very least, she was excited for a new niece or nephew. You worried about her approval but it seemed like she had no care for the fact that it was part Fae.

The biggest change was San. His shrewd eyes were always on you. You never seemed to have enough pillows or blankets to cover you or keep you comfortable. He was constantly asking if you needed more food. He worried about the baby non stop. But the minute he pushed his head against your stomach, to use his hound hearing to listen to the baby’s heart, a soft smile would pull at his lips and your own heart would feel as if it was about to burst.

Your mood swings affected you the most, after your morning sickness, and San took those in strides. There were times when you threw anything within arms length at him and then there were others where you sobbed into his arms, and he rocked you in sympathy. You didn’t know how you felt, carrying a child into this world that had been born from trickery. You felt slimy, truth be told, and you didn’t want the baby to carry that into this world.

Until one night, when you were reading in bed, San crawled into your shared bed and scooted over until you had to sit up to let his arm curl around you. “Ash,” He called out your fake name to grab your attention.

You hummed in acknowledgement and closed your book. “What is it, San?”

“I think I should tell you this, before our baby is born,” San said solemnly, hand slipping over your protruding belly. 

This was it. San was going to inform you that once the baby was born, things would go back to how they were before. He would despise every breath you breathed and it would grate your nerves to live with a man who hated you. You braced yourself; you had been somewhat preparing for this.

“Although it was not your intention, you bringing me into the Mortal Realm has let me realize that I was not living a life before this. In the Fae Realms, I was considered not of them. They begrudgingly even acknowledged I existed. But here… with your sister and the village… they are happy I'm here. They enjoy my presence. I have never known such a feeling of belonging.” San paused swallowing and you felt nervousness through your bond. “And you. You have had to endure living with me, who cut you any time my mouth opened. You are with child from a man… no, a mongrel, a monster, who despised you. Yet, don't think I haven't seen you retrieving the few paintings Hyunjin had gifted you of the place he had grown up in. You hung up paintings done by the Fae you despised, just so that I could have pieces of my home here. I know how much it means to have a reminder of him.”

You pressed your lips together. San had never mentioned the paintings. You didn't think he even noticed them. “Well--!”

“Let me finish,” San said, cutting you off firmly but gently. “I have every reason to thank you but my stubborn self could not. But you need to know that you are my mate, and I do not regret imprinting on you, because in that moment, you had truly made me feel like I was important and I will love a child that was born from that union.”

Your throat tightened and tears threatened to escape. “That's lovely, San.”

San lifted his hand from your belly and used it to tilt your head to meet his gaze. “I will love the child… just as I love you.”

You could feel it. There was no lying with the bond that existed between you two. San truly loved you. It wasn't the grand romance you had once felt for Hyunjin but that wasn't a bad thing. Your love for Hyunjin burned brightly but went out just as quickly. The love San had for you was fragile but it was hopeful. And if you nurtured it…

“San, I--” Your heart was beating wildly but you found that it was not as bruised as it once was from Hyunjin’s false words. You leaned to San’s cheek and whispered into his ear your true, real name.

San reeled back, surprise and shock all over his face. “You honor me, wife of mine.” By bestowing your name upon him, you acknowledged that you trusted him with something he could use to have complete control over you. It was better than saying I love you.

You smacked his chest at the ‘wife’ comment, however, and San let out a high pitch giggle that you weren't aware he was even capable of. You stared at San like he was a completely different person.

San’s eyes grew hooded and he drew you in close. You protested, sensing the taste of lust from the bond, but he didn’t let you go against your half-hearted struggle.

“The midwife suggested that mounting my wife would aid her in feeling like she wasn't a lump on the log and would ease her moods,” San purred.

“So you're saying you're doing this just because the midwife suggested it?” You raised your eyebrow at him.

“No, I wish to make my wife happy,” San said, leaning in, his lips whisper-close.

“I am happy, San,” You said softly.

San grinned. “Then let's make you elated.”

La Fin

[candywife333]

Moo Moo

PART 2

I know it has been a while, so sorry about that guys. Here is PART 2, hurried along due to popular request. Thanks babe, @yuna0309, for making this story come out faster😂than it was originally slated to! I definitely needed the push. We will have one more part to this. I intend to not procrastinate the last part and have it out ASAP.

chubby cow hybrid y/n x alpha wolf jungkook

cameo of Wheein and Hwasa from Mamamoo and a lot of Taylor swift lyric references throughout

triggers: lactation kink, humiliation, dub con, bullying, body shaming, angst, betrayal

Recap:

He continued crucifying Y/N's gentle heart, "Do you know how many times I did her? She moo'd like a cow every time, as she spilt milk onto the floor. Her pussy is loose and floppy, used up by me. Why would I get with someone with such low self esteem that she gives me unlimited access to her pussy like that, screaming of love every single time. Delusional bitch. As if she would be ever worth my love or undivided attention".

He was so casually cruel in the name of being honest, in the name of telling the truth. What an honest, upright man. Y/N hid behind a potted plant , sliding down to the floor in agony. He had crumpled her like a useless piece of paper , whose words were forgotten.

Maybe she was just a low down cow slut, who wasn't good for receiving love from him or anyone. Maybe it was time she left.

_________________________________________

And that is what Y/N did.

She packed her bags and left.

The horrifying debacle had happened the day before graduation incidentally. Y/N said good-bye to her friends and packed up whatever remnants of her life she had in her hometown. Hwasa sniffled loudly, tears spilling down her face as she sobbed ,"Why are you leaving us? BECAUSE OF WHAT SOME STUPID, UGLY ASS , DISGUSTING PREDATOR SAID ABOUT YOU"? To Y/N's dismay, even Wheein hiccuped, tears streaming down in torrents down her pale cheeks.

Wheein mumbled out ,"You know that you are worth more than any of the predators in this town. You are the heart and soul of our town. Without you, all the young hybrids without parents would go without milk. They would go without your care and love that you give them every Saturday at the orphanage".

Even Y/N couldn't help herself as she silently wept, eyes red, riddled with sorrow at her situation. Even as Wheein and Hwasa embraced her, as she sobbed wretchedly on the floor of her room, she could not stop weeping for all she had lost and all she was going to lose. She may not love her classmates or her school, but she loved the young souls in her town. She sure loved the babies of her town, the gentle souls who never judged her by her looks. They held a pure, unconditional love that she had never been the recipient of. A love she was deemed undeserving of, in the eyes of teenagers and adults . She never received that type of love even from her own parents.

She would miss the babies with chubby cheeks, thick thighs, and pudgy arms. The ones who she cooed and stumbled around, as she cradled them in her lap on the cold harsh winds of winter that were not protected by the red brick walls of the decrepit, run-down orphanage. She would miss the ones she would babysit and watch when their parents were not at home, working long hard hours in the town factory. She would miss feeding them her milk, quenching their thirst for love and attention-their little rotund hands fisting and catching on her shirt in silent adoration as they nourished themselves. Feeding was never just about feeding, it was about connection. Connection to another's soul--transferring unto young babies love and care that they deserved. It was about celebrating a child's entry into the world , by bestowing onto him/her, unconditional comfort and warmth.

But the town would not understand...only absence might teach them. And so she would make herself scarce, absent. She thought she would miss Jungkook, but there was no love left within her to give to him anymore. He had ripped her heart open so callously, she did not know if she could ever heal from this. It would leave a scar, a permanent dent in her soul. It would confirm to her, that perhaps she could never be loved by a man or by perhaps anyone --other than the innocent souls who depended on her.

He had blessed her with a revelation, and if Y/N was anything ---she was perhaps naive , but she was not a goddamn fool to stick around as he trampled her heart to prove his worth in the eyes of other foolish men. He had devalued her, maligned her name, called her a slut- a blatant lie , called her delusional for giving him the gift of her love and her presence. He had insulted her body that wasn't merely to serve as an ornament for any singular man's lust, but he insulted her functional, life giving body--the body of a maternal figure to many kids who had none , a nurturer.

Yet the revelation was, that, what she could give--she could very well take away. And the time had clearly come to do that action.

So, she disappeared into the darkness.

The clock had struck 12 , and there was not a sound to be heard in the town square.

Not a sound to be heard, except the squealing and gurgling of babes faintly resounding in the balmy summer night.

----------------6 years later---------------------------

Jungkook was at his wit's end as he sat down at his office, thick black hair askew , perspiration trickling down his temples . He had become the mayor of the town and he could not have a single night of rest for the past few years as he struggled to take on the burden that came with the heavy mantle of power from his dad.

Their town had been doing alright 5 years ago, till they started noticing a decline in the health of infants. Infants of the town, and especially infants from the orphanage, were becoming more prone to sickness, and some were even dying off without explanation. Nobody could truly explain what was happening, not the doctors, not the parents. The only explanation that the town orphanage could come up with, was Y/N's absence.

According to the orphanage, Y/N used to annually pump a year's worth of milk for the town since she hit puberty - on top of the milk she fed to babies at the orphanage . The sheer volume and quality she was capable of providing was unheard of. A fact Jungkook and many of the town's council members were astonished to find out. Before Y/N , they had been providing all the babies a fortified formula of milk that came from the next town over.

But, once that town's supply had dried up and they refused to help, their town had been getting by in terms of milk supply (without having to seek out costly alternatives) by drinking the milk Y/n produced. The town had been skimping and saving money, instead of buying costly formula--and had skated along on Y/N's abundant supply.

Even when Jungkook decided to buy costly formula from a distant city, to make up for the lack---it simply wasn't the same as Y/N's milk. And the effects of Y/N's milk were abundantly clear as , prior to, and after her supply , rates of infection were higher among infants--compared to when she supplied the milk. The babies of the town on Y/n' supply had flourished, they were a smarter, happier, healthier bunch.

The doctors of the town had to beg the question, if it was merely attributed just to the superior quality of her milk---or was it also her interaction with the babies as she had fed them? And as most elders of the town like to say, "True love cannot be bought".

Something the town had clearly lost out on in Y/N's absence. Y/N thought that the adults of the town wouldn't feel her loss. But they had. The adults had lost Y/N's kind presence around their children, and the eagerness with which she cared and provided support for busy working parents and even the elderly of the town.

Nobody understood why she had left so suddenly without warning.

Nobody except Wheein and Hwasa, who glared contemptuously in Jungkook's direction with disgusted gazes anytime he passed in the town square. And Jungkook was left with the horrible feeling, that Y/N had heard or seen something she wasn't supposed to. He had been trying to prove himself as worthy of this position, since he was in highschool- especially their Senior year.

He had said some harsh words about her at the time, to save face for liking someone rather unconventional in appearance. The entire group had been teasing him, and so had to do something to right their perception of him. He couldn't be known as the chubby chaser, if he was to be mayor.

As he matured, he felt tortured by the memory of what he had said about her that day. She hadn't deserved such disgusting, cold words that put her down. Clearly, she was more important than any of the predators in this town, the so called head honchos of this small town. It was abundantly clear just how much power her love had--- that they all had lost because of his stupidity and immaturity.

He realized it now, that she was the love of his life. And he cringed in pain, recounting how he called her a slut-when he very well knew that he had been her first. The memory stabbed him in his gut, reminiscing how he had ridiculed her body--- her life giving beautiful body. All the slurs he had hurled against her to gain the acceptance of a society, that was anyways crumbling without her.

Even the immature kids that they had gone to highschool with, most of whom stayed in the town, had understood what type of blunder they had made. Pushing Y/n away, harassing her for no reason, ridiculing her body that was valuable regardless of what it did , or did not produce. Most of those who did know what Jungkook did, ceased interacting with him.

Jimin had stopped talking to Jungkook after his statement that day. One thing that Y/N never got to see, was the way Jimin had slapped Jungkook for his cruel words, scoffing at him, yelling, "You miserable son of a ****, how dare you put down your childhood friend like that? Can you even call yourself a good person after what you have implied about Y/N"?

She had not looked up to peer at anybody's face during graduation, or else she would have seen the red imprint of a hand on Jungkook's cheek on the day of their graduation. She would have seen Jimin's righteous indignation as he continued to shiver in anger well into their graduation ceremony.

So, now Jungkook had to right his wrong. He had to somehow find Y/N, and convince her to come back to a town that she thought hated her. He had to somehow show her how lost he felt without her love, how what they had was all he could think of day and night. He couldn't get with anybody after what he had done to her, nobody was enough. He couldn't forget her. He couldn't forget her beautiful lush body stretched out beneath him as she mewled rhapsodies of love into his ear.

He couldn't forget how she listened to every one of his fears and insecurities, and smoothed her hands over his forehead, cupping his cheeks as she kissed him well into the night. His brain could not forget how he pounded into her, his sweat dripping onto her chest as he drinking sweet milk from her nipple-- her wrapping her thick legs around his back as she hugged him , hands around his neck - littering his face with tiny kisses ,cradling him as though he was something precious, as though he was worthy of all the love in the world .

He couldn't forget her love, her kindness, her warmth, her body. Her. She was unforgettable. There was not a second that passed, that he did not remember her shy smile and her warm eyes.

She had ruined him for anyone else, imprinted herself onto his soul. He had found out too late. He had to lose her to find out that he loved her.

And she had given him the greatest punishment of all eternity for his sins. By withdrawing the love he had spat upon mercilessly.

By leaving him.

tags: @yuna0309, @ghostlyworld, @cutiethecupcake

[stormdash2]

Some Archie Character Reboot Ideas.

I've been thinking more about the return of Sally and The Freedom Fighters. Be it another reboot, a revival, a new show, IDW or even the games.

These are some ideas that have come to mind for me on any possibility.

First there's Nicole.

If Nicole got rebooted in any shape or form, I can see her as a hacker who assists Sally against Eggman in many ways. I also see her as a bit of a shut-in, due to her past prior to being adopted by Sally's family.

She strikes me as someone who could be socially awkward, and I imagine that in this timeline, she'd be an adopted sister for Sally, and fully Mobian rather than a computer.

I can imagine Sally being the only person she's comfortable talking to, but anyone else would be met with hesitation. As an homage to her shut in nature, I could see her using holograms or radios to speak with others, akin to how she first appeared.

If anyone could get Nicole to open up, it would be Sonic himself. He's very good at talking to others, when he wants to be. He's not the best for conversation himself, but his kind nature would be alluring for someone like Nicole who could just use some comforting words.

Nicole's backstory of being a shut-in hacker is partially inspired by a Persona 5 character by the name of Futaba Sakura.

A good friend could go a long way. I wouldn't mind if Sonic played the role that Ren Amamiya/Joker played in getting the shy girl to open up. Soon Nicole could have friends like Tails and Amy, just like Futaba eventually had friends in The Phantom Thieves.

I do feel like Bunnie's cybernetics would be Wispons this time around rather than actual cybernetics. It would fit the current direction that Sega is going. Just keep her southern charm, and you have potential for something good.

I can't see Antoine ever using a laser sword, even in a reboot he will stick with a classic sword. He believed his sword to be superior to the Z-Saber that Zero uses, and Zero is an iconic Mega Man character who's strong enough in his own right. That speaks volumes of Antoine's confidence in a sword.

I also believe that Monkey Khan should return somehow. Given that Chun-Nan exists, he could easily come back as a resident of that country, or even the Ruler of Land here. He has a lot of potential as a character.

Give him his own Freedom Fighters too, like the ones from the Archie Reboot.

If anything, they could borrow much more from Sun Wukong, the very character he's based off of. Imagine him going against Gaia the way Sun Wukong would against any deity that defied him.

Of course the Freedom Fighter story would just be an origin of them wanting to keep their town safe during the Phantom Ruby Incident. I imagine Sally has seen Infinite on multiple occasions.

Sonic Forces was just made for the Freedom Fighters' potential return. The fact that Sally and Bunnie cameoed in one of the comics is proof of that. Pictures only, but still worth mentioning.

And of course The Freedom Fighters would be allies with The Diamond Cutters should they appear in IDW. I can even imagine Sally as a mentor figure to Lanolin. Though I imagine it would be predated by a lot of bickering. Lanolin is stubborn and doesn't always listen to others, but may come to respect Sally while Tangle just admires her and Whisper respects her.

Then there's Mina Mongoose and Fiona Fox. I imagine their stories would cross paths with one another. Mina's good nature could balance out Fiona's cynicism, while Fiona is tough enough to watch out for Mina should she be too naive.

Mina's personality would be her cheerful and loving nature, while Fiona would be a nihilist due to old traumas, but not too anti-social. She just keeps a distance from everyone, except her best friend Mina.

I can't see any romance between either of them or Sonic, and that's fine. Last time there was, both girls ended up getting screwed over somehow and mistreated.

Mina would not be a pop idol per say, but it's a dream she's working toward while Fiona is still a medic.

I can see Mina at least admiring Sonic for his free will, while Fiona may find him a bit irritating.

Out of the Diamond Cutters, I can see Mina being best friends with Tangle and the two would interact a lot. All the while, Fiona may mess with Whisper a bit, but the two may find time to bond later.

They would also befriend The Freedom Fighters and be official members. Fiona's medical skills would come in handy more but Mina has plenty to offer.

Surge and Kit would be a fun interaction. Fiona might find the duo unsettling, and a look into what life she could have had if she had not befriended Mina.

Surge's personality around Fiona could mirror Scourge. Difference is that it's less likely to be romantic, and more that Surge wants to befriend Fiona, but their friendship is very toxic.

Surge could end up jealous of the bond that Fiona and Mina have with the other Freedom Fighters, The Restoration, and Sonic's friends.

When it comes to Tails, I can see Mina really admiring his intelligence, and wanting to be his friend. She may also find him really small and cute and dote over him.

Fiona may like Tails too, but that may take time. I can see her being annoyed by him at first, likely to call him childish insults (i.e. Twerp), and just mildly bullying him. She still has a soft spot for Tails though.

Lastly when it comes to Sally herself, she is the leader of her Freedom Fighter friends in their village of Knothole. They protected their town from Infinite and Eggman to the best of their abilities.

As mentioned prior, Sally could form a bond with Lanolin and in time be one of her dearest friends.

As also mentioned before, she'd have her big sister/little sister bond with Nicole. and always be ready to protect her.

She'd be a brave girl that goes after badniks, be it with Whispons or just on her own. She might even have an intensity that rivals Princess Peach in the old comics.

Like seriously, it's easy to forget how intense Princess Peach was in the old Mario comics (Or Toadstool as she was called at the time). Imagine Sally having this type of drive. Or maybe it might be too much.

I can also imagine Sally being in the movies as a girl who met Sonic once upon a time. Maybe they were childhood friends, maybe they knew each other in passing, but should Sally ever appear in the movies, there's plenty of story to be told.

I can imagine a situation similar to the anime Zatch Bell, where Sally is the one telling Tom and the others what Sonic was like back home, as she would be the only one from Mobius to know anything about him, even if it's something minuscule, like Tia having to explain Zatch's home life to Kiyo. She didn't know everything, but she knew enough.

I don't know what will happen regarding romance. In a perfect world, Sally is with Sonic. They are, for me at least, the definitive Sonic pairing in Sonic media. Like Superman and Lois Lane. Like Spider-Man and Mary Jane Watson. Granted I prefer someone like Kitty Pride for Peter Parker, but you get my point.

Sonic and Sally are just it for me. But I know that Sega may believe differently. Be it the games, the comics, or the movies, Sonally just may never happen. That doesn't mean fans can't have some sliver of hope. Optimism is good, but be ready to accept reality.

I can see three potential replacements for Sonic if romance doesn't work out between them. Note, this is not mandatory for Sally, she doesn't need to be romantically paired off. But if they feel the need to, there are options.

First option, Monkey Khan. Back in Archie, I did not like the pairing between Sally and Ken. It was typical love triangle drama that did not need to be there.

This time around, there is no worry of that. Ken is there with his own story, and the romance thing could just be on the side or merely hinted at. If they want to go all in, they can do so without Sonic being pulled into that drama.

Option two is Mighty the Armadillo. The relationship between Sally and Mighty could mirror SatAM Sonally, without it being a complete copy. Maybe Sally's more chill, or Mighty is just a less hyper version of SatAM Sonic. Point is, there's potential.

Option three, one of my favorites, is Sally with Ray the Flying Squirrel. I feel like he'd know how to be that perfect mix of Adventurer and Freedom Fighter. He loves thrills, but shows some caution in doing so. I think Sally and Ray have potential for a good bond.

We could just skip the romance, or have Sally with a one-sided crush on Sonic. Sonic may never end up with her, but I can see something similar to Final Fantasy 7 with Cloud, Aerith and Tifa.

There was no major love triangle drama with them. Tifa and Aerith were good friends, and Cloud just have to make a choice eventually. It can be a nice running gag in the games and the comics.

None of this is fool proof, but it's better than nothing. Sometimes you just gotta take a chance, just be wise about it.

This is just more of my head canons on how to use the Freedom Fighters in the games, comics or movies. Or any other media. Perhaps one day, they truly can return.

[syndrossi]

Do you have any thoughts about the Cannibal? Would he ever play a part in one of your AUs?

I could see him making a cameo in one or two of them (and possibly even an appearance in Resonant further down the line). And hey, if Laena lives, Aemond still needs a dragon so you never know.

He tends to be a very popular choice in the "character finds themselves as a Targaryen in the Dance" genre, so I personally shy away from him as a primary option. I did consider him for Rhaella in the Rhaella AU, but ultimately, the delicious irony of Jaehaerys's dragon choosing the bastard child of the daughter he disowned was too appealing.

The "never tamed" dragons are quite interesting, from a dragon lore perspective. I find the rumors of the Cannibal predating the Valyrian presence on Dragonstone fairly unlikely. Not just on the age front (he would have been massive by now, since dragons don't seem to stop growing), but also because presumably he would have been a young'n, and I can't see Valyrian dragonlords just leaving him to his own devices. A dragon of unknown lineage would have been too interesting to them.

It seems more likely to me that he came from either a brood of eggs laid by one of the Valyrian dragonlords who helped oversee the construction of Dragonstone, or, more likely, sometime after Aenar moved his family there and some of their eggs hatched. Though again, if the Targaryens thought that there was a dragon of another line of Valyrian dragonstock, I have to think they would not have left him to his own devices, which makes me think he was a hatchling after their migration who grew large and wild enough not to bother.

[albertonykus]

The 2018 Doraemon episode "うら山危険生物パーク" ("The Dangerous Creature Park on the Hill") is a fun zoology-themed story. Nobita and his friends create a wildlife park using Doraemon's Real-object Encyclopedia series, but Gian and Suneo accidentally release a bunch of animals from the "Dangerous Creatures" volume, and so the main characters have to spend the rest of the episode trying to recapture all of them.

I like that the production team chose some unconventional "dangerous animals" to highlight. A couple of large mammalian predators show up, as one might expect (the final animal they need to wrangle being a tiger), but the first animal to be unleashed from the book is a hippo.

A Komodo dragon proves to be a challenge to capture. Doraemon notably mentions that it is venomous, instead of repeating the outdated conventional wisdom that Komodo dragons rely on infectious bacteria to bring down prey.

Not all of the animals in the book are deadly to humans. Even so, one wouldn't want to be on the wrong end of a snapping turtle.

A honey badger is featured for its reputation as "the most fearless animal in the world". Its thick skin and ability to prey on venomous snakes are shown, as is its liking for honey.

A cassowary gets a cameo as part of a montage. Although it doesn't happen often, they are among the few birds known to have killed people.

It's also interesting to see an animal that is "dangerous" as a result of having a noxious chemical defense, namely a skunk.

[i-will-say-what-i-believe]

Are they really mentally THAT unstable to NOT understand that Lou Ferrigno Jr was the one who deluded them all?

All those cameo headcanons... PEOPLE! THAT MAN LOOTED YOU ALL & FUELLED YOUR DELUSIONS FOR MONEY!! How difficult is that to understand?

And you all are still supporting him & making "tributes" for him😂😂😂

You know he's a predator & are still refusing to believe it🤷🏻‍♀️😬

Tim Minear & OS have been clear from the start that bummy is not heading ANYWHERE 😂

[infiniteetcetera]

RAPID FIRE ACOTAR CHARACTER HOT TAKES

. [Mostly focused on side characters but thoughts about our mains too BC why not]

🔥Emerie is one of THE most underrated characters and deserved a bigger storyline in ACOSF (obviously it’s Nestas book but other side characters like Gwyn, Feysand, etc got more time that could have been hers)

🔥I don’t know why people really like Helion or want him with LOA😭 mans has let her be in an abusive relationship for DECADES & I feel like if he really loved/deserved her he would have blood dueled by now. he might make a fine father for Lucien but I don’t want to read a love story that involves a few centuries of abandonment

🔥I like genuinely wonder often if the rest of Lucien’s brothers are evil evil. Like if Eris is playing along to their abusive dad’s whims, how do we know the rest of them aren’t? They likely don’t know Eris is different so why would he know that about them? Lucien didn’t? IDK i’m just curious about more Vanserras

🔥Jurian is genuinely one of the funniest characters👀 his revival may be a little pointless but his vibes are immaculate and he’s underrated

🔥You don’t have to hate Mor for leading Azriel on (there are others reasons to not like her) but she definitely did💀aside from the fact every character including her says it we get literal scenes of it too. like she FR tells Feyre he has a huge dick and just says so many other sexual/romantic things about him that are NOT platonic, it makes sense he’s been confused AF😭

🔥Kallias and Viviane have one of the sweetest love stories in the series and I wish we saw more of them. they also just have such good vibes & if they’re gonna keep popping up for little cameos I want more deets

🔥TW SA: I won’t even argue about Tamlins wrongs against Feyre bc i’ve done so before & it isn’t worth the breath BUT it bewilders me that so many people ignore/excuse what he did to Lucien😭 aside from just the generally abusive vibes he not only ignored what Ianthe was doing to Lucien (when equally if not more depressed people like Feyre/Rhys noticed) but also made him have sex with that creepy ass predator😩 Lucien’s struggle with that is so overlooked in general but still bothers me people ignore Tamlins fault in it and that Lucien is now groveling for his friendship

🔥 While on the topic of SA, i’ve seen a lot of people in the fandom have such a gross attitude about what happened to Rhys recently. like man has plenty of flaws and has done a lot of wrong things but that’s not an excuse to make jokes about him being SA’d for DECADES especially when male SA representation is so rare and it’s dumbass jokes like the kind fans are now making that makes guys feel uncomfortable about speaking up

🔥One more on this topic, the SA Nesta experienced is also SO overlooked, even by the narrative itself. The general fact she was using sex as a form of self harm/punishment is also weirdly addressed a few times but then excused if it’s with Cassian in a way that’s so gross

🔥Feyre and Rhys having Nyx so soon was a bad decision. No matter how many people bring up the “oh they were so close to dying” “oh they don’t want to waste time” blah blah blah doesn’t change the fact that’s a TERRIBLE reason to have kids😭 like does the fact they made that decision kind of make sense given what they experienced? sure! was it at all smart or level headed or much more than a trauma response? literally no

🔥I feel like Rhys’ mom…kind of sucks? She’s spoken about more highly than any of the other ACOTAR parents but she literally forced her son to go to a child soldier camp she knew was full of misogyny, poverty, and a bunch of other barbaric practices, did nothing to help any of the other kids unless she was forced to (Rhys brought cassian home, and Az’s mom begged her to take him, she then let Rhys & Cas beat on this poor traumatized boy) and overall Rhys turned out far from perfect but actually could have been SO much worse when you think about it

🔥On the topic of bad parents KIER BEING ALIVE STILL IS SO STUPID AND MAKES NO SENSE.