#DRABBLE NO. 1 (DARKNESS DESCENDS)

[fanaticsnail]

how do I convince you to make at LEAST a part 2 to The Sword and Spear?! Cause omg I need more! I wanna know if Mihawk eats his words once reader is dressed more in the way he prefers and then just the aftermath of MIHAWK showing up STARK NAKED to see GARP!!

Please I beg of you- if not a full part then you can do a short little imagine but please at least something to quench my hunger!!

I hope you have a good rest of your day/night! :)

Wine and Warlords

Masterlist Here, Part 1 Here

Word Count: 700+

Synopsis: Celebrating your victory by goading in the arms of a fellow warlord.

Themes: Mihawk x f!reader, warlords, drinking, drunk kissing, swearing, flirty dialogue, name calling, secondhand embarrassment.

Notes: This little drabble was brought to you by a couple of glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon, and by you, beautiful @h0n3y-l3m0n05. Thank you for your ask, it ate at me. Part 2 Drabble to your initial request, @sexc-snail.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @gingernut1314 @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @vespidphoenix

Lulling your head onto his shoulder, his arm draped in a soft shroud over your torso. His smile tickled the shell of your ear, a soft puff of wine-tinted breath beckoned your attention closer.

“Finally got the feral filiform in my arms,” he whispered in a slow and slurred breath, “And in such a pretty black dress.” He swayed in his seat, wineglass laying limply in his hands as he swirled the deep rouge in the ballooned base of the glass stem.

“Such a flatterer, for such a conceited cunt,” your own voice slurred back at him, smiling broadly within the lap of your fellow warlord, “Particularly one who just walked in: balls out and dick swinging in front of the marine council and the world government.”

Joining with his soft laughter, you attempted to lean away from his embrace to collect the bottle of wine atop the bar; only for him to tug at your body to pull you in closer. He reached his left hand down to collect your chin, turning your face with the tip of his index finger. His lips parted, lazily descending to claim yours beneath his own.

“Not so conceited as you may think,” his smile cracked the corners of his eyes in a playful twinkle.

“Still a cunt,” you taunted back, flicking your tongue to brush with the tip of his nose.

Lips engulfed your mouth, whiskered flesh brushing and chafing the soft skin of your face as his hands drew you in closer. Turning in his arms, you braced your hands against him: grasping his opened shirt in clenched fists as you gasped into his mouth. His tongue darted out, rolling lazily with your own and tinting your tongue with the subtle hint of red wine.

His hands wandered over your back, molding the flesh beneath his firm palms and skilled fingertips. Your knee knocked against his crotch, a moan a few times higher than he truly intended falling freely from his lips.

“Let me get the wine, Hawk,” you murmured against his mouth, taking his bottom lip within your clamped teeth and tugging at it, “Let's drink in celebration of my victory. Again.”

“Go and get it then, Hyena,” he taunted you, “And I'll drink as many glasses as you require of me to cement your win. Go on,” he taunted you, his amber eyes fluttering dangerously with an air of danger. His nose scrunched in a small twitch, his lips snarling in a smirk, “Get it.”

“Oh,” you taunted him in return, eyes mirroring a similar dark intensity as his own, “I’ll get something, alright,” you cooed down at him.

Your fingers found his pectorals, the pads of your digits circling the sensitive flesh of his nipples as you descended your lips once again to claim his. Licking, biting and molding your lips atop his, he was held helpless beneath your ministrations.

Uncharacteristic moans, whimpers and cries fled from the world's greatest swordsman as you journeyed your hands over his torso. He cupped the backs of your knees, ushering you to straddle his waist and angled his chin in a circular rotation to deepen the oscillation with his skillful, needy lips.

Snapping your head away from his, arching your back up and offering him a winning smile, you reached for the wine bottle and raised it to your lips. Gulping back a hefty swig, Mihawk's eyes both held mortification and awe.

“You absolute savage,” Mihawk praised you, easing back into the chair and staring up at you with glassy eyes: obs blown with unbridled lust.

Mischief danced over your face, your eyes holding him at ransom beneath your ferocious intensity. Leaning down, you split your lips and fed the deep, red wine to him through your mouth.

He whistled a hum through his nose, shock evident on his features as he gulped down his favorite vintage through the partition of your lips. Humming in momentary bliss, Mihawk cradled your body against himself and humbled himself to be truly at your mercy.

Pulling away from his body, you used your thumb to cast aside the few droplets spilling over his bottom lip. Elevating your thumb, you sucked at the digit as his fingers brushed your thighs dangerously higher.

“Go on, big boy,” you taunted him, snarling with a small smirk, “Show me all the ways you can please a woman.”

Horrified eyes, shocked lips and tense shoulders were littered throughout the tavern. Cadets, marines, generals, admirals and other warlords dare not spare the two of you more than a subtle glance before returning their attention to their tankards.

Not a breath was huffed, nor a murmur mentioned at the prior exposure of Mihawk's bare ass in the sandstone building. Although none spoke it, all eyes held an intense silent understanding they all shared.

Both warlords were in for a wild ride.

[peachdies]

The Wind and His Moon (Sanemi x Reader)

A/N: hello! Part 1 of an ongoing story I wanted to write as I procrastinate studying for the Bar. I posted an earlier Drabble of something from later in this series, but I wanted to get the beginning out now.

Sanemi is drawn to the reader from the start.

Massive CW: canon typical violence, graphic violence, gore, child death, and implied sexual assault. Swearing and later smut. MDNI.

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

Sanemi was there that day; the day she became part of the Corps.

The day her world had ended.

It had been fucking freezing that morning. The sky had been a muted gray as snow drifted down from the heavens in wet, fat flakes. The snow had started sometime the previous night, already having blanketed the village in its thick blanket.

The carnage, however, was fresh, and so the snow was not white.

It had only been an hour since the watery gray light of dawn had begun to bleed from the east, when his crow had swooped down over his head, tugging frantically at his hair. Rengoku ducked as his own crow collided with his head.

“Northeast! Northeast! Right at the base of the mountain! A horde of demons attacked the village!” They had cried.

Not just one. A horde. A horde of demons had descended upon a decently populated merchant village and had torn it and its people to shreds.

As he and Rengoku had furiously made their way towards the village (having learned that Tengen and Iguro were also en route), the crows screeched as much information as they could about the village and what had prompted the attack.

It had been her.

Or rather, her family.

The head of the village was a merchant known for his imports from the West; his success had meant the village was a success, with many small shops and tea houses lining the streets, always crowded with locals and tourists.

Demons have no use for money or exotic baubles; but Muzan Kibutsuji had a keen interest in obliterating Lunar Breathing from the world. And so he had.

The very same merchant whose business success had bolstered the local economy with his imports was also directly connected to the Clan that had created Lunar Breathing, the powerful, dark twin to Sun breathing. The merchant was the youngest and only living relative of the aging head of the Lunar Clan. The head of the Clan had never taken a wife after he had retired from life as a Pillar for the Corp some fifty years prior and had no heirs to continue on the family legacy. That burden, instead, was placed on the surviving eldest child of the Merchant in the village that the Flame and Wind Pillars now rushed to.

There had been an elder son, the crow panted, but he had passed a few years prior from illness. And so, the next surviving eldest had been tasked with the mission of becoming a demon slayer so that she could continue on the Lunar Breathing tradition. Her.

The crows did not know whether she had been present for the attack. Final Selection had only ended a few days prior, and it was entirely possible that she had either been killed on the Mountain, or was still making her way back to the village, unaware that no one would be there to greet her home.

The village had been eerily silent as Sanemi and Rengoku arrived. Dawn had given way to a dark gray sky, and visibility had not been ideal.

But it hadn’t taken much effort to see the blood and gore that littered the village’s once lively streets.

“What on earth,” Tengen’s voice broke the silence, as he and Iguro approached their comrades from the Eastern gate of the village. Behind them trailed a group of nearly thirty Kakushi. The Hashira silently took in the nightmare around them, unable to find the words for the level of destruction which had befallen the village just hours before.

“Kakushi. Spread out. Look for any survivors. They may be buried or hiding.” Rengoku’s voice was steady but uncharacteristically grave, his face stony and hard.

“Shinuzagawa, let’s make our way to the Lunar Merchant’s estate. We need to send word to the Clan head right away if-“

“You didn’t hear?” Iguro interjected, “the head of the Lunar House is dead.” Though the lower half of his face was covered, the anguish on Iguro’s face was evident. “That’s where Tengen and I just came from. He was ripped to shreds.”

“Fuck,” Sanemi hissed, a toxic mixture of anger, guilt, and despair roiling in his gut. An entire clan — and entire village— had been decimated in a matter of hours, and no one — they — had not been able to protect them.

“Have we word on the Lunar heir?” Rengoku asked quietly. Iguro and Tengen shook their heads. “Then she likely is lost, too.” The Flame Pillar turned back to Sanemi, his face a mirror of his own. “Let’s go.”

The snow and wind had picked up just as the Wind and Flame Pillars approached the Lunar Merchant’s Manor, obscuring some of the wreckage before them. Out of the corner of his eye, Sanemi thought he could see movement from the side of the Estate, but when he turned to examine it, all was still.

Before he could inquire further, Rengoku drew in a sharp breath, snapping Sanemi’s attention back to the Flame Pillar. But Rengoku was not looking at him; rather, he was staring straight ahead into the courtyard of the manor.

“Dear god,” Rengoku whispered.

Sanemi followed his gaze, through what had been once-proud iron gates, though only one side of the gate remained hinged. The other had been ripped from its stone setting, twisted by some unfathomable strength and thrown carelessly to the side. Just past the gate, Sanemi beheld a single, bloodied arm. But his stomach clenched at what lay beyond it.

There was not an inch of ground not covered in blood and bits of gore.

Body parts were strewn about, having clearly been ravaged by multiple demons. Broken glass and wood from the manor littered the ground, and the walls that were left standing had been showered in a thick coat of blood.

Most sickening were the pieces of bodies that were stuck to the sloped roofing of the Manor, as though some demon had plucked fleeing humans from the yard and feasted on them mid-air, allowing a shower of human entrails to paint the estate in gore.

A group of ten Kakushi had arrived at the Manor, gasping and crying out at the horror. Behind him, Sanemi heard one or two begin to retch, unable to stomach the carnage before them.

“Move!” Sanemi barked, his voice scratchy over the lump forming in his throat. “Fucking look for survivors! Anyone!”

Rengoku, a few paces ahead, called up to the crows circling over head. “Do you have a description of the heir?”

“She is around 16, Lord Rengoku!” It cawed back. Not helpful, given that most of the bodies here were unrecognizable.

Rengoku turned back to Sanemi. “I will check inside the house. You!” Rengoku called to a small group of three Kakushi nearby, “come with me!”

Sanemi continued to make his way through the debris and body parts outside, lifting stone and wood in hope that he might find someone — anyone — who had managed to hide.

He came across a large chunk of curved, chiseled stone that had become half-embedded into the soft ground below. Grunting, Sanemi heaved the rock aside, thinking it was perhaps some part of a fountain or statue.

But when he beheld what lay beneath, Sanemi’s stomach lurched. Crushed beneath the weight of the rock was the small body of a child, severed completely at the torso. Her two halves lay next to one another, a ragged seam torn between the two as though she had been pulled apart by force.

Sanemi felt the bile rise in his throat as his gaze fell upon the child’s face, utterly frozen in fear. Though death had snuffed any life that had once illuminated her eyes, it had not concealed the terror she had felt in her last moments, her mouth fixed in a scream.

She could not yet have been ten.

He could not help it. Sanemi turned away from the grisly sight and vomited into the snow, every inch of him trembling.

Sanemi wretched until his stomach was empty, and his throat burned from the acid and strain of his dry-heaving. With great effort, he forced his legs to carry him forward, any hope that they would find the Lunar Heir or any survivor growing dimmer by the second.

Even as Hashira, Sanemi doubted any of them had quite seen wreckage like this.

Sanemi neared the center of the courtyard, and halted before a large, circular stone inset that had been smashed to gravel. A large piece of rounded stone wall was all that remained standing.

Found the fountain, Sanemi thought bitterly. Another sharp, icy gust of wind whipped its way through the courtyard, disturbing the little bit of snow that wasn’t packed down with blood and gore. But the wind had also stirred up something else, something dark and wispy. Had the Wind Pillar’s lilac gaze been focused anywhere but that piece of stone fountain, he would have missed it softly fluttering up before disappearing beneath the lip of the fountain.

Sanemi moved to examine the other side of the broken stone. As he did so, Rengoku reappeared on the outer steps of the of the engawa surrounding the Manor, a frown etched deeply on his face.

“Shinazugawa, something is off. Demons were clearly here, but the house looks like it was ransacked— jewels, silks, valuables, all strewn about. Some things are clearly missing, like-“

“I found her.” Sanemi bit out, gruffly. “The heir.”

It was her hair, Sanemi realized, that had been disturbed by the wind, a few strands having drifted up before settling back down upon the bloodied shoulder of the lifeless girl collapsed before the fountain.

Had there not been a thick spread of red-stained snow and earth beneath her, Sanemi almost would have thought her to be asleep. Her face had been almost devoid of any injury, save for a few fresh scratches along her jaw and temple. Her eyes were closed, long dark lashes tickling a soft, and unblemished cheek, as pale and smooth as the Moon. Her expression was almost serene, in stark contrast to the chaos and horror around her.

The rest of her had not been left untouched. Sanemi noted that while she appeared to have maintained her limbs, her back was soaked in blood — no doubt the source of the large stain beneath her, and he saw that some of it still oozing from some sort of wound between her shoulders. Her the wrist on her left arm, stretched out before her, was bent at an unnatural angle, skin mottled from a mixture of the cold and an attempt to bruise before her blood had ceased flowing.

Beneath the torn and bloodied haori around her shoulders, were a pair of pants and a fitted, long sleeved top that had clearly seen better days. They hosted various tears and stains, and were caked in blood and what looked like mud.

The crows had said the Lunar Heir was around 16 years of age, but as Sanemi stared at her lifeless form, all he could think about was how small she looked; how young she had been, when she lost her life to the brutality of demons.

The thought made his blood run cold.

“No doubt this is her,” Rengoku said heavily, nodding at wounds Sanemi had not noticed on her hands. Squinting, Sanemi saw bruises and cuts in various stages of healing dotting her knuckles and fingers. He suspected more lay beneath her soiled clothing, though Sanemi ventured he could guess where they had come from.

“Final selection wounds,” Rengoku confirmed. “She must have just returned from the mountain when the attack began. Perhaps she even stumbled into the middle of it.” Rengoku shook his head. “She didn’t stand a chance.”

It was well known that even if one survived final selection, it was unlikely they would descend the mountain without injury. Seven nights with no access to shelter, food, or water was tough enough, but the added danger of starving demons almost guaranteed that one would not emerge unscathed.

She must have been injured, enough to slow her return home by a few days. Even if she had the skill to hold her own against the swarm of demons that had attacked her village, whatever injuries she sustained during final selection had likely sealed her fate.

Sanemi swore, looking over the last of the Lunar Breathing Clan, feeling the acrid bite of guilt and pity seep into his veins. The poor girl had survived the controlled horrors of final selection only to meet an even more grisly end at her home — where she was supposed to be safe. It was cruel, but so was a world in which demons lived, unchecked.

“She will get a Slayer’s burial, in the Master’s garden.” Rengoku declared firmly, raising his voice so the nearby Kakushi would hear. “She passed final selection; she’s one of us.”

“No,” Sanemi said, voice hoarse. “Bury her here with her family.” Sanemi’s eyes returned to the girl’s face, an inexplicable bitterness coating his tongue. “She fought to return to them; let her be with them.”

Sanemi lifted his eyes back up to the crimson gaze of the Fire Pillar. Rengoku stared at him for a long moment, before nodding, turning back to the Kakushi. “You heard Shinazugawa. Let’s give them a proper burial.”

The Kakushi began to move, thorough and efficient even among the horror around them. Sanemi readied himself to assist, moving to stand when his eyes snagged on the girl’s torso, his gaze drawn to the sizeable swath of smooth skin that was exposed to the icy bite of the snow. Sanemi’s frown deepened as he took note of the odd way that her clothes sat around her exposed abdomen. The girl was half laid on her side, but the front of her shirt had been bunched and twisted together, like it had been gathered and shoved out of the way. Sanemi’s eyes lowered a fraction to the front of the girl’s pants. At first glance, they seemed to be fitted around her hips normally, but that was precisely what caught his eye. The waistband on the girl’s pants slotted across her lower hips, not higher up on her waist as it should have been. One side was noticeably lower than the other, almost as though they had nearly been tugged off.

Almost as if-

Sanemi felt the hairs on his body rise. Looking over the girl once more, he noticed the suspicious lack of claw marks and bite marks to her body. The way that she seemed intact, compared to the bodies of her friends and family scattered in pieces around her.

The way that her blood seemed even more fresh than what caked the snow around them, as though she had been attacked right before they had arrived to the manor.

“Rengoku,” Sanemi said sharply. The Flame Hashira was back over to where the girl laid in an instant, though he maintained a respectful distance.

Sanemi jutted his chin toward the girl’s body and Rengoku followed his gaze. Sanemi could see the gears turning in his comrade’s head, as he too took note of the odd skew of her clothes, the lack of demon-like injuries despite her having stumbled onto a veritable feast on her family.

“How many demons do you know that try to-,” Sanemi ground his teeth at the word that came to mind, his blood beginning to boil and rage. “Have their way with victims before eating them?”

“Not many,” Rengoku conceded darkly, a similar anger simmering in his eyes. “Though not unheard of. It is… rare. Most can’t resist their hunger.” Rengoku fell silent, thinking for a moment.

“Didn’t you say the house had looked ransacked?” Sanemi turned his gaze away from the girl and towards the broken doors of the manor.

Rengoku’s eyes widened. “Yes. As if someone came in and grabbed anything they could.”

Sanemi nodded. “Bandits. Probably heard about the attack and got excited to loot. Found a body that wasn’t completely torn apart by demons and tried to take advantage.” Rather than bile, Sanemi felt anger, hot and lethal, threatening to spill out of him. He loathed men who sought to abuse women, but a girl who had just been attacked by a demon? There was no mercy he could give them.

Rengoku exhaled sharply through his nose, a weariness clouding over his features. “Though I don’t suppose we can really know for sure. There isn’t enough left of anyone else to compare.”

Rengoku clasped his hands in front of himself, and closed his eyes. Sanemi heard him mutter a small prayer for the girl’s soul, one that he had heard from Himejima.

“Whatever happened to her, she’s gone now. Let us ensure she can rest.” And with that, Rengoku turned to head back to where the Kakushi had begun digging graves for the deceased.

Sanemi watched the spot where the girl’s body had lain long after a pair of Kakushi had gently removed her to ready her for her burial. Sanemi watched with hollow eyes and a hollow heart as the Kakushi — female — tenderly brushed the girl’s hair from her face and straightened her haori. They crossed her arms over her middle and lifted her gingerly, carrying her over to join her family’s remains.

Hers was the last of the graves to be prepared. The Kakushi were just beginning to pack the mud and snow over her body, when one of them collapsed from exhaustion both physical and mental. The group had resolved to take a small water break before finishing, and neither Shinazugawa not Rengoku had objected.

After all, digging eighteen graves was no easy task.

Both Hashira had assisted, and their combined strength and stamina had streamlined the task considerably. While Kakushi rested, Rengoku had gone to the front gates to update Tengen and Iguro, who had been dealing with the wreckage within the village. Reinforcements of both Kakushi and lower rank slayers had been called in to assist with the clean up and burial.

In total, over sixty-three graves had been dug.

And not a single survivor had been found.

It was a heavy day — perhaps one of the darkest in the Corp’s history, and its crowning poisoned jewel was the eradication of one of the oldest breathing styles.

The news that there was one less defense against the demons was not a welcome one.

Sanemi had gone to the other side of the courtyard, away from the voices and graves and rising stink of death. Out of sight from any prying eyes, he found a tree and shoved his fist through it, clear to the other side. Pieces of bark and wood flew and splinters bit into the skin around his knuckles and palm. Sanemi could not find it in himself to care; he sought only to break through the silent numbness threatening to consume him.

Because he had taken refuge on the other side of the courtyard, away from the new gravesite, Sanemi did not see the hand and arm that shoved through the pile of earth resting atop the last grave. He did not see clawed fingers sinking into the mud and snow, desperately seeking purchase as the body attached to the arm hauled itself — herself — from beneath the earth, the remnants of her grave skittering to the side as she heaved her body out.

Sanemi did hear the terrified shriek of the Kakushi, and immediately drew his sword. In the distance, he could see Rengoku racing towards them, hand on the hilt of his blade.

Sanemi came into view of the gravesite right as the girl spilled out from the hole in the ground, using her bare hands to pull herself forward as the rest of her body remained limp.

Sanemi Shinazugawa was not a pious man; in fact, he frequently ignored Himejima’s prayers. If there were any gods out there, then Sanemi wanted nothing to do with them. They chose to let chaos and devastation run rampant. They chose to let demons exists.

But hell had apparently frozen over, and Sanemi found himself offering a prayer for the girl’s forgiveness as he prepared to behead her demonized form. He hoped she would understand; after all, she had joined the Corps intending to rid of the world of demons.

It was what he hoped one his his fellow Hashira would do for him, if he ever found himself in that situation.

As Sanemi cocked his blade, ready to strike the crawling demon from behind, Rengoku cried out.

“Shinazugawa, NO!”

Sanemi stuttered, his arm in mid-swing as he neared the demon’s neck. A flash of violet and white shot towards him, and a piercing shriek of metal tore through the sky as Tengen’s blade parried Sanemi’s, the force of the clash knocking him out of the air. A frustrated grunt tore from his chest, and with great effort, Sanemi twisted mid-air to avoid falling flat on his ass, managing just in time to swiftly land on the balls of his feet.

“What the fuck,-“ Sanemi had begun to growl, but his voice faltered at the look on the Flame Hashira’s face as he gawked at the girl sprawled on the ground.

In that moment, Sanemi’s sharp ears picked up on the weak heart beating rapidly and unevenly below him. At the same time, he caught a whiff of fresh blood, rising from the dark stain on the girl’s back. No doubt the product of a re-opened wound.

Ears ringing, Sanemi stalked around to where Rengoku and Tengen both stared unabashedly at the sight below them. Only when he was face to face with her did Sanemi finally understand what had caused Rengoku to desperately move to stop Sanemi sword from hitting its mark.

The three Hashira were not looking at a newly turned and bloodthirsty demon, but at a sweaty, pale, and trembling girl. The girl whose death they had feared doomed the Lunar Pillar House had just clawed her way out from her grave with nothing but her hands and sheer will.

She had not been dead, after all.

Slowly, so slowly, her eyes lifted to glare up at the person standing directly before her. Though she clearly strained to raise her head more than half an inch, her silver eyes met Sanemi’s lilac ones, and goosebumps erupted all over his skin as he beheld what lay within them.

Defiance. Pain. Rage.

So, so much rage, relentless and raw.

And so, so human.

She reached another trembling hand out before her to further drag herself away from her tomb. A thin sheen of sweat coated her pallid skin, and fresh blood was beginning to stain the snow beneath her.

She was panting, clearly fighting every urge in her body to give in, to let death beckon her back into its sweet embrace.

“I-I’m not d-dead!” She grit out in between shallow, uneven breaths, her jaw clenched so tightly that Sanemi wondered how her teeth didn’t crumble.

The three Hashira remained dumb and silent for half a heartbeat before-

“WHAT ARE YOU ALL STANDING THERE FOR? HELP HER!” Tengen bellowed, startling birds in nearby trees into flight.

The Kakushi sputtered into action, several of them moving to assist the girl, to help her when she exploded.

“DON’T TOUCH ME.” She screamed, eyes screwed shut and head bowed defensively over her hands as she clenched her fists into the earth. When she finally opened her eyes again, her gaze clashed with Sanemi, and his heart tightened as he recognized the emotion threatening to overcome her.

Fear.

Whatever this girl had experienced over the last few hours had overtaken all other senses. She had no logic, no ability to rationalize that she was among other humans, among comrades. Instead, all that drove her now was the primal instinct to survive.

And to her, they were another threat.

The girl continued to try and crawl away from them, but her movements became even more shaky, more uneven as the blood loss combined with her physical exhaustion. Rengoku caught both Sanemi’s and Tengen’s eyes, waiting to confirm their next move. All nodded, and Sanemi, having the advantage of being in the girl’s blind spot, struck the pressure point on the girl’s neck with his his hand.

She collapsed against the ground, unconscious and still. Gingerly, Sanemi lifted her into his arms, mindful of the open wound on her back, and of her head.

Once she was secured, the Hashira began their frantic sprint towards the Butterfly Mansion.

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

[americasass81]

Promises To Keep . . .

Warnings:- Oral (female receiving), Edging, Use of Pet Names, Blindfold, Previous Bad Relationship, Implied Kidnapping, Overstimulation. 18+ only. Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting. Feedback is welcomed.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- This was written in response to the fabulous ask pictured below.  Sent by our wonderfully talented @stargazingfangirl18 , thank you so much Siri for this inspirational thot as well as helping me prove that I am hopeless at writing drabbles.  1k words or less?  Yeah right, maybe one day 🤣.  For now I just hope anyone who reads this thoroughly enjoys the ensuing filth.

Author’s Note 2:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- A deal with an angel didn’t seem so bad until a devil was revealed.

Pairing:- dark!Andy Barber x Female Reader

Word Count:- 3,215

Waking up to the eerie sensation of strangeness all around you, opening your eyes on an all consuming darkness you had never known before brought an overwhelming sense of panic when you reached up to remove the fabric you now acknowledged covering your eyes only to have those same hands brought back down to the bedsheets by another.  Struggling now against this intruder's hold before opening your mouth to scream out for help you knew would never come, a warm mouth descending upon yours brought the stark reality of what lay before you into frightening clarity.

At least until the stranger spoke.

Pulling back from your mouth while now running his hands along your arms, he waited just a breath for you to stop moving as his words, and as a result his identity, finally hit you.  Andy had found you.  Oh sure, it's not as if you were actively running from him.  Why should you?  But if you were being honest after all you had been through dealing with another man had not exactly been something you were ready to dive back into ..... even if it was just dinner.  After all, how many times did men in Andy Barber's profession or of his caliber for that matter write off their fees for a simple dinner.  No, it was safe to say he was looking for something more and right now more was not something you were willing to entertain. 

You wanted freedom.  You wanted fun.  You wanted to do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted without having to plan, make apologies or excuses.  But it seemed Andy took your promise seriously.

"Did you really think I wouldn't be able to track you down, gorgeous?  You promised me a date.  One dinner and a night of your glowing company for making sure your deadbeat ex was out of your life for good.  Surely you haven't forgotten?" he now asked before rolling you over onto your side and slipping his body beside yours.  Spooning you closer now as he continued talking about how all he wanted to do was to show you not all men were the assholes you were used to but this didn't really get him the reaction he was hoping for.

"Not all assholes?  Have you lost your mind?" you asked as your voice finally worked now that you had stopped fighting him and Andy in turn seemed happy with the way things were going.  "You break in here, blindfold me and hold me down against my will while my bed covers I assume lay scattered on the floor.  You really think you're not being an asshole right now?" you continued, but stopped short when a laugh rumbled through his chest, vibrated against your back and settled in your own.

It seemed he thought you were being funny.

Kissing softly against your neck now as his hands continued to soothe you while the blindfold held fast and made everything feel more intense, you had no idea just what lay in store until Andy spoke again.  It seemed he had really done his homework before taking your case to the point where he had somehow discovered the feelings you harbored towards him and the fantasies your overactive imagination had conjured up about him.  You wanted him.  Deeply.  Badly.  Intimately.  Nights spent alone after a fight with your ex who had once again gambled away the week's rent or not fixed something he had promised you weeks ago he would and thoughts of Andy had quickly invaded your dreams and taken on a life you never imagined.

Moving next door after the tragic events that had altered his life beyond recognition, Andy had been only too happy to help out with any tasks that proved too much for you and often gave a willing ear when conversations inevitably made their way to the man sharing your life while treating you worse than the dog poo fouling Mrs. Delaney's front lawn.  No, if Andy had his way your deadbeat boyfriend would soon be a distant memory and then he would find a way to become a permanent fixture in your life.  Thankfully for him you would present the perfect opportunity without even realizing it.

Bemoaning once more to Andy what a lousy, no good piece of trash you had shacked up with as a busted faucet spewed water all over your bathroom floor, a trip by your kindly neighbor to the basement to turn off the water and not two weeks later to the day your useless boyfriend returned to not only bum some more cash while begging your forgiveness, but also to find himself on the receiving end of a police raid.

Arrested along with him as he swore blind, black and blue that the drugs, guns and ammunition had been planted by you as some perverted means of punishing him, your one phone call had resulted in you calling the only person you knew could get you out of this sorry mess.  Something he was only too happy to do.  Relaying then to all who would listen the litany of offenses your other half had committed while leaving you to scrimp and borrow just to keep your head above water, you soon walked free with the court's apologies only to discover the true price your freedom would cost.

A cost you thought very little of until that debt came due.

Lying beside Andy now as all these memories warred with the sensations his hands, lips and beard were presently creating, your thoughts lingered on how to talk him out of his plans until a sudden nip just below your ear produced a flood of moisture between your legs and a sound from your lips you never dreamed yourself capable of producing.  Whatever he had done had felt oh so good.

Continuing to explore this newly discovered pleasure point now as his hands left your midsection and wormed their way up your night top, a quick squeeze of your tits and Andy knew he was finally getting through.  "Hmm, you love that, don't you gorgeous?" he now asked as he pulled his lips back from your neck and focused once more on squishing your mounds like one would a stress ball before trapping each nipple between his fingers and twisting sharply.

Screaming out in both pain and ecstasy now as your legs clamped tight to hold back the fountain leaving your pussy, it seemed Andy knew more about the workings of the female body than you ever thought possible as his right hand moved down to cup your intimate area while his lips returned to rest against your ear.  "It's weeping for me isn't it gorgeous?" Andy asked with a smirk before continuing, "Crying out to be fucked and filled.  To feel my beard burn it up so good you'll remember me every time you try to close your legs."

Biting your bottom lip hard now so as to neither confirm or deny his outrageous accusation, him nuzzling deeper into the crook of your neck to leave a taste of what he promised still couldn't distract you from the reality of what had gone before.  Your ex had tried this once and it had been a complete disaster.

Coming home drunk one night very early on in your relationship, his prodding and pleading had seen you relent and the experience had not been a good one.  Sharp coarse hair, a tongue that flopped around like wet, limp celery and the resulting infection that left your private garden needing lots of t.l.c. was definitely a sexual encounter you were not looking to repeat ever again.

And yet something was different here.

Flipping you onto your back now while at the same time ripping your top clean down the middle, the cool air of the room kissing your skin hit differently now that your eyes were still covered and your other senses compensated for their loss.  Straining to hear and feel what Andy was doing now while still not one hundred percent sure you wanted what he offered, you instead tried once more to reach up and remove the blindfold only to cry out when Andy's mouth descended towards your left breast and bit hard.

Soothing it quickly then with his tongue before pulling back and warning you now not to try that again, you nodded obediently while also noting the striking difference in your two lovers straight away.  Andy it seemed knew exactly how and what to do with his tongue.  Which may work in your favor after all.

Relaxing a bit more now as the man above you began to pepper soft kisses, sharp nips and tickling brushes along your front, you were surprised by the shiver along your spine and the fluttering in your stomach at the next words that interrupted the rhythm of your ragged breaths.  "I'm gonna mark you all over gorgeous and maybe then I'll see about giving you what you need."

Pouting at the threat now that offered no relief yet also still somewhat reluctant to accept what your body craved, Andy moving ever closer to the oasis calling out to him proved far more powerful however than any bacterial infection or embarrassment at your physician's office.  Having him was worth anything and so you gave in.  This time when he released you and settled himself between your now parted legs, your hands reached out to gently massage the ache he left around your chest, the blindfold thoroughly forgotten in your zeal to touch something substantial.  Something that was yours.

Placing his lips against your calf then as he slowly and sensually worked his way back up towards your center, your ragged breathing was now replaced with whispered yeses that gave life to his ever hardening cock as your own body tried to focus on what exactly it was experiencing.  Soft and thick, unlike the scouring pad your ex might as well have used, yet still short enough for you to almost feel the individual hair strands penetrate your tender flesh, you knew come morning your legs were going to resemble someone that had spent just that minute too much under the sun but at the same time no antibiotics or medicated cream were going to be called into action this time.

But somehow that outcome no longer mattered.

Letting your mind go blank and focusing simply on the here and now, you wondered if this was heaven.  As Andy's lips and teeth left hickeys you knew would linger long after this night ended, the beard was something you secretly admitted to wanting to feel forever.  Delighting now in the heat left behind wherever he rubbed his chin, combined with the wispy, soothing breaths he then assaulted the tender skin with, you soon found yourself an active participant in an activity you had now discovered a new appreciation for.

Grabbing hold of Andy's head now as he reached your center once more, you somehow convinced him through action alone to meet you halfway and soon your lips were meeting up once more in a kiss that conveyed a heat and passion you had never experienced with a lover before.  Melding your lips together as your tongue first explored his mouth before allowing his to do the same, the moan that traveled between the two of you as your fingers scraped his scalp spurred you on to finally let go.

Falling back onto the bed again as your lungs now welcomed some much needed air, the blindfold still covering your eyes robbed you of seeing what Andy was doing, but the rustling of fabric and his naked chest touching yours moments later told you all you needed to know.

He was moving things along.

Kissing you once more before moving down your body once again, you were prepared to finally lose your shorts but lost your cool instead when Andy reached out and began the same sequence on your left leg that had worked so successfully on the right.  And it frustrated you no end.  "Andy, baby, please," you whined now as his bearded chin rubbed clockwise and anticlockwise circles along your calf and inner thigh while your core got wetter and wetter with no relief in sight.  No, you needed him now.

Debating taking off the blindfold once more and allowing him to see the full force of your disapproval, you instead decided you liked the effect it created in this experience and chose a different tack instead .... you pulled hard on his locks and at least got his attention.  "Fuck gorgeous take it easy.  I kinda like my hair attached to the roots.  Is there something specific you needed?" he now asked and you didn't need your eyesight to know the fucker currently sending your body towards orbit was grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

Which only infuriated you all the more.

"I need you there Andy," you answered crossly with an accompanied finger pointing directly at your now long neglected flower.  "I need to feel you burn me up.  Drown my garden, spread your seed and make me question how I ever thought my dreams could compensate for the reality."

Chuckling once more now at how needy you had become without yet experiencing the full arsenal of his sexual repertoire, he thankfully decided to take pity on you it seemed when he removed his head from your hands before pulling down your shorts and exposing your core to him, the night air and all the plans he had for you.

Removing the rest of his clothes then if the sounds of a belt, falling shoes and rustling fabric were anything to go by, you took the opportunity to situate yourself in a more comfortable position before the main event actually kicked off.  And what an event it turned out to be.  Kissing gently either side of your flower now before giving into your whining and diving in, the sensations here were even more intense than what had come before.  Rubbing his bearded chin back and forth along your mound before blowing softly on the heated flesh, Andy kept this rhythm going until you had enough and once more tried to exert some measure of control.

Grabbing hold of his head again and this time employing a strength you never knew you possessed, you shoved his face against your pussy and simply held it there.  Waiting now for the man to get with the program and give your body what it ached for, you were instead treated to the full force of his professional resolve when, like you, he simply did nothing.  Not a tongue, not a wisp, not a strand of his glorious beard offered any relief and it seemed a stalemate was the only possible outcome.

That is if you weren't already a desperate, sex starved mess.

Nudging his head once more and still getting no response, a tiny part of you wondered if perhaps you might have smothered him but the greater part told you he was simply playing the long game.  Waiting for you to cave and beg him again to take you.  But that you weren't about to do.  Giving up silently instead, you now released Andy's head and honestly, a part of you was sorry for it.  But at least he got the message.

Holding down your hips now the second you let go, Andy's tongue, teeth, lips and beard worked outside and inside your pussy with a skill that put all your toys to shame and as the tears flowed freely from your eyes and soaked the blindfold you knew you were fucked.  Oh not in the sense you craved, no.  This was more in the 'how is anyone or anything ever going to satisfy me again?' sense.  The man was ripping you apart and it was divine.

Nipping at your clit every so often now as his tongue twisted inside your pussy as far as it could go, the vibrations from his laughter every time he heard you pleading should have been enough to break you and send you hurtling over that unseen cliff edge, but Andy was still in charge.  Talking against your pussy now in a room filled with nothing but sex, breathing and a man you thought had never seen a meal throughout his life, you felt your ears were playing tricks on you when his muffled words finally broke through your orgasm starved haze.

The bastard couldn't be serious?

Eating you out now as if he were fully prepared to die right here between your legs, there was no way the smarmy git could have told you to hold it, to stave off the building orgasm your body was literally crying out to release.  Letting go of the sheets again and reaching for his head once more, you took a deep breath knowing the loss you were about to feel and pulled him anyway before speaking in the direction you knew him to be.  "Did you just .... seriously tell me .... to hold it?" you panted out now while the bastard laughed out in confirmation before actually dignifying you with a response.

"Absolutely gorgeous.  You'll come when I tell you and or you come at all," he answered firmly before removing your hands from his head and returning back to the activity you had so rudely interrupted.  Starting back up again while now adding his right hand fingers to the mix, your clit, pussy and asshole all now receiving an equal amount of attention and you didn't know how much longer you were meant for this world.

Could someone actually die from sex you wondered?  From an orgasm so powerful it sets all your synapses firing at once in a chain reaction that resembled the big bang?

Setting this thought aside momentarily to focus instead on your breathing so your lungs at least didn't give out before you got your reward, you thankfully didn't have long to wait when Andy suddenly tapped your stomach to get your attention.  It seemed he was finally ready.  Easing off the break now before the bastard changed his mind and tortured you even further, you relaxed every muscle your body possessed and let the feelings previously trapped within your body wash over you.  And that's when all hell broke loose.

Spasming outward from your core in one continuing burst, the tears continued to flow, your keening broke the silence and Andy's slurping competed with your voice as he drank down every bit of your delicious essence while still holding your body flat against the bed.  He drank so deep in fact you wondered if your soul had actually left your body when the shockwaves finally subsided and your spent body rested back against the pillows as Andy traveled up the bed to join you where you lay.

Reaching up to remove the blindfold then and wipe away the stray tears the intensity of your release had just produced, Andy now kissed you deeply and placed your hand around his shaft before uttering the words that told you a very long night and many more orgasms were all that lay in store.  "Buckle up gorgeous, there's a lot more real estate left to claim and I'm just getting started.”

[imtrashraccoon]

Edit: Future Tumble here! I just wrote a short drabble that is related to this fic. Check it out here!

Or check the rest of the fic out here.

The Nightmare of Apathy: Chapter 1

Word count: 4,712

Nightmare x Female Reader

く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡 ~ ~ ~

"Don't forget to refuel your lantern before you leave!"

You stopped abruptly at the door, groceries in one arm and your other hand on the knob. Glancing down at the lantern swinging from your hip, you saw that while the fuel was low, it wasn't dangerously so just yet.

Mrs. Jones appeared from the back of the shop with a child on one hip. She looked haggard and a rather thin considering she'd had five kids by this point, yet her face was stuck in an annoyed expression. "You know what will happen if you get stuck in the dark..." she warned, although the tone she used sounded like she was scolding a small child.

You shook your head, "Yes, I know, but it's fine. My home isn't far and I'll be able to get there quickly enough if I run."

The shop lady sighed and shook her head. She seemed a bit more stressed than usual and you knew she'd only reminded you about your lantern out of habit from reminding her own family.

"Right. May the Moon keep you..." She turned and returned to the back room to finish whatever she had started doing earlier before you'd stopped by.

You scowled and, more harshly than you should've, responded, "And may he guide you for the night..." You opened the shop door and left, the little bell signaling your exit.

While you knew in your soul that Mrs. Jones was only wishing you to be safe as was custom, you couldn't help but feel disgusted whenever anyone did so. Why should you partake in some stupid religious tradition when it had never been helpful before? You scoffed and descended the steps to the cobblestone road, before beginning to make your way home through the dim streets.

This whole world was cursed and you had been unlucky enough to be born into it. It was perpetually in a cycle of darkness and twilight, but never to be any brighter. Only the stars and the moon pierced the veil of permanent black and granted some relief to its denizens. It was often chilly, even in the warmer months, but the cold of winter was more often than not, deadly to any creature caught without shelter.

It was all you'd ever known and all you would ever know. You were unimportant and worth little more than the clothes on your back. No amount of hard labour could change that, which was a fact that everyone seemed only too glad to remind you of at every little opportunity.

You were lucky to have lived as long as you had. If not for your late grandmother, the darkness would've taken you long ago after your parents both suddenly passed. She was a kind and infinitely selfless woman, who cared for you as if you were her own child. But even she could only give so much and as hard as you'd tried, you were unable to save her when she fell ill last Winter.

Now, you were completely alone. While you were fortunate to have a job working at the local mill, it was hard work and you often had little time for anything else. The pay wasn't great either but at least you only had yourself to worry about. If you needed to, you could skip a few meals here and there to help save money.

You glanced up at the crescent moon and scowled again before quickening your pace. You needed to get home before your lantern did run out of oil or else you'd really be in trouble. While this town had lanterns on each street corner and at major intersections, the spaces in between were often large and nearly pitch black once the shops were closed.

You weren't afraid of the dark per say; you and every other child growing up had quickly squashed that fear early, but it was what lurked in the dark...or what could. While wild animals would certainly be something to fear, a far greater evil dwelled in the shadows. One who no one dared to speak his name carelessly lest his anger be turned on them.

Lord Nightmare.

Even just the thought of his name sent shivers down your spine, for good reason too. He was a god, the Lord of Dusk and Shadows, and the ruler of this cursed world. His word was absolute and he ruled through fear and an iron fist.

No one could stand against him, though countless fools had tried. Yet they'd only served as grim reminders of his absolute power. Not only was he physically powerful, but he was also prone to targeting the mind, even when you weren't anywhere near him. Indeed, constant nightmares were the norm for everyone and the only known temporary relief was by taking an expensive and highly dangerous drug, but when that wore off, the nightmares would only return in full force.

In the face of such bleak hopelessness, it was only natural that people would turn to anything that could promise them even a smidgen of hope. Enter the commonly held worship of the Moon. While you'd never been interested in the schematics of the belief, nowadays it seemed most worshippers only believed in spirit, rather than actively taking part in any actual worship. You only saw it as a superstition, like wishing someone good luck, and didn't actually believe the Moon had any power over someone as powerful as Lord Nightmare.

Of course, when the worship of the Moon came to his attention, he'd threatened to block it out entirely unless his demands were met. He really could block out the moon though, and regularly did so whenever the people were late with the yearly tribute that was really just a tax. Speaking of, he regularly demanded exorbitant taxes that were due each year once Spring had arrived. And if the tribute wasn't deemed good enough in his eyes? He'd lash out and punish everyone severely, be it in the form of increasingly horrible nightmares or whatever other twisted punishment he could think up.

Still, you had more immediate concerns to worry about, like getting home so you could refuel your lantern for one. You still had enough oil to last at least another day or two if you conserved it. For now, you would do what you'd always done, live one day at a time and not worry about things outside of your control. One day, you would save enough money to live in a better house and maybe after that, you could save enough to at least live comfortably.

You were in such a hurry that you almost weren't watching where you were going and you rounded a corner a bit too sharply, nearly barreling into someone. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you and I...." Your apology died in your throat as you regained your balance and saw who it was that you'd collided with.

The girl snarled and shoved you away from her. "Yeah, you'd better be sorry," she grumbled and very obviously looked you up in down, her ugly face curling into even more of a disgusted look.

The ever so wonderful, Catherine "Cathie" Lee, the mayor's daughter and your worst enemy. What you did to warrant her hatred? You still had no idea and you could only remember one time when you were both kids that you weren't able to go to a birthday party of hers. She'd seemingly hated you ever since and it had only gotten worse as you'd both grown up.

To top it off, she wasn't alone. Two other girls stepped around the corner and stood beside Cathie. Their tittering laughter only made you even more angry than you'd already been. Of course all three were wearing matching sparkly pink cocktail dresses and of course they looked like they'd just stepped out of an equally disgusting speakeasy. You could swear they stank of alcohol above all that perfume that was practically cascading off their skin.

You took a deep breath to try and remain calm. "Becky, Marcelle,...Cathie. Lovely evening to be out on the town I see..." You weren't even trying to hide your irritation but you were at least attempting to act civil, even if you were being snarky while doing so.

"Well it was, up until a minute ago," Cathie grumbled.

"Then, you know what, I'll do you a favour and remove myself from your sight," you muttered and rolled your eyes slightly. "Stars know my evening will improve drastically..."

You went to walk past them but Becky and Marcelle moved to block you. You narrowed your eyes at them and tried to go around but they blocked you again, this time trying to restrain you as well.

"Don't touch me!" you growled and yanked your shoulder away from their grasp.

"Do you ever stop talking?" Cathie hissed as she stepped closer to you. She shoved you roughly, causing you to stumble backwards into the arms of her cronies.

They grabbed your shoulders again, much tighter this time so you couldn't so easily pull away. Your bag of groceries you'd been carrying hit the cobblestone and the contents spilled out, much to your irritation. Once again, you tried desperately to pull away from them, but their grip held fast and your efforts were futile.

"You know what, your attitude reeks...must be because you spend all your time in the graveyard!" Cathie shouted in a mocking tone.

"I do not!" you shouted back. "Just because your parents are both alive, doesn't give you any reason to say that!"

Cathie growled and kicked the brown paper bag, scattering the contents across the street. There hadn't been much in it anyways, but much of it was fragile like fresh produce and eggs. She noticed this and made eye contact with you for a moment, before stomping and kicking everything until there was little hope in salvaging any of it.

You fell silent and just stared at her. This wasn't the first time her and her friends had accosted you, and likely wouldn't be the last. Sure, you could buy more food, but you still had to buy oil for your lantern. You weren't due to be paid until next week too.

Seeing the effect her actions had on you, Cathie grinned triumphantly and planted her hands on her hips. "Look what you made me do..." she grumbled and tried to wipe the bottoms of her feet against the stone. "My shoes are ruined, what do you have to say for yourself, Grave Girl?"

You stared passively back and refused to answer. Evidently, this only served to infuriate her and she backhanded your cheek in retaliation. This earned her a harsh glare and you spit at the ground in disgust.

"What do you want me to say? You did it to yourself, so why don't you go beg father dearest for new ones? Or has he finally smartened up and realized how much of spoiled brat you've become?"

Cathie scoffed and waved dismissively at Becky and Marcelle. They let go of your arms and you jerked away as soon as you were free, shooting a glare at them too.

"You worthless rat..." Cathie hissed under her breath as they started to walk away. "You'll pay for this..."

You tentatively touched your cheek and winced slightly from the stinging. That was probably going to swell up and bruise. You would have to deal with people being nosy and staring at you for a couple of days now.

With a sigh, you tried to salvage what you could, which wasn't much. Some of the vegetables could still be used and a small pouch of chili powder hadn't been burst open. Everything else had already mixed with the dirt of the road and by the sputtering of your lantern's flame, you couldn't afford to spend any more time trying to save anything else.

く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡 ~ ~ ~

You were woken rather rudely by heavy pounding on your front door and someone shouting for you to open up. The commotion shook your little shack and you worried they would knock your door off its rusty hinges if you didn't.

It turned out to be the Captain of the Town guard and with him were six heavily armed soldiers. Their weapons were drawn when you opened the door and they immediately set upon you. Roughly pinning you to the ground, they cuffed your wrists together and despite your protests about what was going on, hauled you off to the dungeon.

You were left to stew there for several hours. Your body ached from how rough they'd been with you, even though you hadn't even tried to resist. You probably had many more bruises to add to the one on your cheek now.

There were several questions that swirled in your mind as the hours stretched on. Why me? What did I do? Surely they'll realize this was all just a big misunderstanding, right...?

You were held there for several nights. While you tried to get answers from the guards, no one would explain what was going on and they treated you with the same amount of care as any common criminal. Yet you had committed no crimes so it made no sense.

Catherine Lee. This was her doing...it had to be! She must've gone crying to daddy and spewing lies, for them to treat you this badly. While you could feel the despair threatening to consume you whole, you also began to feel angry. It started out small but with each cold night that you spent rotting in the dungeon, your rage at the injustice of this situation grew more and more.

By the end of the week, they finally retrieved you, although they weren't much gentler this time either. Your wrists were once again cuffed and you were brought into the court house, again with a heavily armed guard as if they expected you to attack someone.

It looked like nearly the whole town had filled the room, save for the children and infirmed of course. However, it immediately became apparent that this was no trial. No, this was your sentencing.

"Ha...guilty until proven innocent? What a joke!"

They still hadn't told you what crime you'd committed and they wouldn't let you plead your case, let alone ask any questions. The only thing they were willing to discuss was the annual tribute.

"What do you mean there isn't enough?!"

"...it was raised last minute..."

"Well what are we supposed to do?!"

"There is one thing..."

They planned to send you as the tribute.

You were stunned.

"This can't be happening..."

Lord Nightmare was flexible when it came to payment, so long as it was on time that is. His subjects could give a majority of their livestock and harvest, which wasn't usually feasible after a hard Winter, or a hefty sum of gold, which was the preferred method. He had never accepted humans as tribute with the closest being the few times he'd accepted some of the best builders, artisans, or crafters to work on his domain. The last time this happened though was at least fifty years ago.

"At least she isn't completely ugly..."

"He's not human, there's no way he'll know any different..."

"...it'll be good to get rid of her...."

You were given a nicer dress and forced to wear makeup to hide the bruises you'd sustained during the arrest. After practically being threatened to go along with this for the sake of the town, you were shoved into a carriage for the several hour journey to Lord Nightmare's domain.

So much for being lucky...

く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡 ~ ~ ~

The forest was so dark. Only the lantern at the front of the carriage permeated a few feet into the inky black. The horses didn't care though and they continued to faithfully pull the carriage through the darkness.

You knew you were close by now. Your nerves felt frayed, like the slightest tug would cause you to unravel completely. You had to be strong right now though, for the sake of your people.

The carriage came to a stop and one of the horses whinnied softly. You could hear the two soldiers disembark and one came to open the door to let you out. You didn't need to be told twice and hopped to the ground with a small huff. The other soldier was talking with two guards in front of a massive iron gate.

You were ushered over to the guards and you could now see that they were far from human. They both towered over the soldiers by at least a foot and you estimated they were probably close to seven feet tall. They appeared like they were wearing plate armour, though it was hard to tell as they were covered in an inky black substance. Their heads seemed to be skeletal and they had sharp teeth as well as cyan pinpricks in their hollow eye sockets. Definitely fitting guards for Lord Nightmare if you were to say.

Frankly, you didn't pay attention to how the conversation went and you were unceremoniously handed over to the skeletal guards. Then the soldiers from your town got back into the carriage again. They left hastily, as if they were afraid Lord Nightmare himself would stop them if they didn't. You didn't blame them, but you couldn't help the wave of disgust that welled up inside you at their obvious cowardice.

You were guided through the iron gate and up a winding path to the castle itself by one of the guards. It was hard to grasp the sheer scale of this place because much of it blended into the night sky, but it was by far the largest building you'd ever seen.

The castle was made of large stone bricks but you weren't an expert on rocks, so they just looked like vaguely dark gray stones to you. Even in the darkness, you could see that the lawns were well manicured and there seemed to be some rather nice landscaping too.

The castle itself was decorated much more opulently than you'd initially expected. Numerous paintings and tapestry hung on the walls, depicting various scenes and themes, and you could tell the creators were far more talented than you could ever dream of being. The rooms were also lit with a variety of different light fixtures like lanterns or candles, but the flames were a light blue and most fixtures seemed to be made from gold.

The further into the castle you were led, the more expensive everything seemed to get. The floors were now covered in long plush carpets with intricate patterns, most of which seemed to be of the stars and the moon interestingly enough.

Finally, the skeletal guard came to a pair of beautifully carved wooden doors and with basically no effort, pushed them open. You immediately realized that this was the grand hall and also the throne room.

There were multiple stained glass window murals depicting what you recognized as the tale of how Lord Nightmare came into power. Weirdly enough, there were a couple of scenes and figures that you didn't recognize though. In the middle of the room was a long table that had room for at least two dozen seats around it, sporting an intricate black lace table runner.

But it was beyond the table that really caught your attention. There, casually lounging on his throne, was the god of this world and the one you now essentially belonged to.

Lord Nightmare himself.

Due to the consistent nightmares, everyone already knew what he vaguely looked like, but to actually see him in the flesh? Well, to put it simply, it was taking everything in you to remain standing and not drop to your knees right now. You could literally feel how powerful his aura was from here and he wasn't even trying to manipulate your emotions, yet.

Lord Nightmare seemed to be a skeleton although he was much different from a human one. Aside from being constantly coated in some sort of black substance, his bones appeared to be wider and thicker, giving the appearance of mass underneath his clothing like he actually had flesh. His phalanges were tipped with sharp claws and adorned with several gold rings, all of which had precious stones embedded into the metal.

On his skull was a circlet formed from gold with a black moon in the center. The black robe he wore was definitely made of the highest quality fabrics to be found and had been tailored to fit him perfectly. Underneath that, he wore a plumb coloured dress shirt with the top button undone, revealing his sternum and the top of his first pair of ribs. While his gray pants looked simple, you knew they were likely far from cheap, and even his shoes were made from a high quality black leather.

His singular glowing cyan eyelight narrowed as he leared down at you from his throne before he beckoned you to approach with a claw. Steeling yourself, you did so, although you hoped he couldn't see how badly your hands were trembling.

"What is the purpose of your visit?" he inquired. His tone of voice was low and it seemed to permeate into the very back of your mind before almost curling up inside. There was a general air of boredom about him at the moment and you really hoped things wouldn't get worse than that.

You took a steadying breath and bowed respectfully. "My Lord, I am here to present the annual tribute from the town Rynbarn," you answered. Your voice was higher pitched than it normally was and your palms felt clammy from how nervous you were.

His eye socket narrowed critically and you could feel the way his eyelight studied you. "Alright, where is it then...?" His tone suggested that he was unimpressed so far and it only caused your heartrate to increase further.

Realizing you should've been more clear, you quickly tried to course correct. "My apologies, I meant to say that they sent me as tribute..." You couldn't help the way your voice trembled at the end of your explanation.

He stared at you for a long time. You couldn't tell if he thought you were lying or if he was simply shocked by what you'd said. You subtly tried to wipe your hands on your dress and shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

He sat up straighter and rested his chin on one of his hands. He definitely didn't seem bored anymore, rather his demeanor seemed more confused than anything. "I see..." he murmured.

You swallowed nervously and looked down at your shoes.

He sighed and muttered under his breath. "Are they fools?" His tone suggested that the question was rhetorical and he continued speaking, rather than wait for you to answer. "Or do they care so little for you that they would rather give you away?"

"I wouldn't know really..." you responded quietly. Well, you had some pretty strong suspicions as to what had happened but you weren't about to complain in front of Lord Nightmare and risk upsetting him.

He made a quiet tisk sound and shook his skull. "I'm genuinely trying to understand the situation but frankly, I am more than a little bewildered." Tilting his skull, he studied you once more, trying to make some sense of this.

"Do you have any enemies or anyone that would wish harm on you?" he asked.

You hadn't been expecting a question like that and for a moment debated how you should answer. Ultimately deciding to be truthful, you took a deep breath and looked up at him again. "I'm afraid so, my Lord."

He raised a bonebrow at that and motioned for you to elaborate. "You hardly seem like the type to purposely make enemies. So, tell me why they sent you specifically."

You got the sense that he was only asking to satisfy his curiosity and not because he felt empathetic towards your plight. Nevertheless, you didn't really have the right to refuse him.

"Well... I may have slighted the mayor's daughter once when we were children and she's seemingly had it out for me ever since. I suspect she spread some sort of lie about me and turned the whole town against me," you explained.

For a fraction of a second, the corners of his permanent grin seemed to quirk up slightly before returning to a more passive expression. "A shame," he murmured. A moment later, his low tone shifted and he raised his voice slightly. "So, this whole situation was caused by a childish squabble?"

You shrank back at the sudden change in his demeanor and could feel the way his voice bounced off the walls. While he didn't seem angry per say, you could feel his aura had shifted to a darker emotion from before, which was concerning.

He calmed down again a second later, as if nothing had happened. "Ridiculous..." he muttered to himself and shook his skull. Looking back up, he frowned at the distance you'd created and motioned for you to come closer again.

Only once you'd done so did he speak again. "I am slightly insulted that they thought they could both get rid of you and appease my demands at the same time. However, I can't very well send you back now either..." He trailed off and studied you thoughtfully for a moment.

"Um, if I may..." you started to say, although you almost immediately regretted doing so with how sudden his gaze flicked to your own. "I can be useful...if you're willing to give me a chance?"

He nodded thoughtfully. "As you may have noticed, I already have my own staff, however, something about you intrigues me. Do you have any particular talents? Such as, baking or gardening for instance?" he asked.

You shook your head, but quickly tried to explain before he could become too disappointed. "My late grandmother taught me everything I know about baking and while I remember several of her recipes, I wouldn't say I'm better than any other person. And gardening was more of a hobby of hers but I helped out when she wasn't able to keep up anymore."

To your surprise, he seemed pleased by your response, although the moment was brief before his expression returned to it's previous passive state. "Very well," he hummed. "You will show me what you can do and if it is suitable, then that will be your place here. If not, well..."

He trailed off and held eye contact for what felt like ages. You didn't dare ask what he was going to say next, but it probably wasn't good. Still, you struggled to keep the staring contest going, although you quickly lost your nerve and dropped your gaze to the floor once again.

He reached out and tilted your chin up with a clawed digit, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him again. You hadn't noticed it much earlier, but now his expression was positively frigid. Even without words, his intentions were immediately clear to you now.

Entertaining this chance for you to prove yourself was him showing kindness, but, you only had one chance to do so. He had been far more civil and patient than you'd expected, yet he had no patience for fools or those who would waste his time. He held the power here and there was nothing you could do to change that.

"I expect utmost loyalty from my subjects and you are no exception. Do you understand?" he asked.

You swallowed nervously. "Yes... I understand very well, my Lord."

"Good." He let go of you and leaned back again. Changing the subject, he asked, "What is your name?"

"Aylin, my name is Aylin," you murmured.

His cyan eyelight seemed to glow brighter and a look of recognition flickered across his face. It was enough to send a shiver down your spine, especially when he let out a soft chuckle.

"A fitting name indeed..." he purred.

く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡 ~ ~ ~

Hey, Aylin is a Turkish name meaning "moon halo" or "the one who belongs to the moon". I wasn't originally going to name the reader but it is a very fitting name, wouldn't you say?

Updates may be slow but I intend to post a part two at some point.

[thereyoflights]

Movie Night, a Gallavich drabble for this week’s @galladrabbles prompt by @mmmichyyy - Movies.

Got to this prompt just in time!

CW: public sex, mild sexual content

Rated M, 100 words, 1/1 complete

The movie is reaching its tumultuous end when Ian slides onto his knees in the dark theater.

He’d toyed with Mickey throughout the entire runtime. Running his hand up and down his thigh. Getting high enough to make Mickey squirm and gasp before descending back to his knee, smirking.

Ian only has to glide his hot mouth over him once, twice, before Mickey comes with a stifled groan, a direct result of Ian’s overstimulation, hand fisted in ginger hair.

Afterward, Ian asks, “What’d you think of the movie?”

“The ending was the best part.”

Ian chuckles. “I’m sure it was.”

[raplinesmoon]

A Place For Us (KSJ x F!reader)

pairing: ex-boxer!Seokjin x lawyer!reader (from On The Ropes)

genre(s): angst! and fluff

au(s): established relationship, parents au

word count: 4.5k

warnings: Seokjin and OC are older (late 40s/early 50s), being a parent is hard, moody teenagers, revelations, mentions of infertility, words are exchanged, lots of crying, doubts and insecurities about relationships, flashbacks, making up (happy ending yay!), brief makeout session at the beginning

rating: pg-15 (the OTR universe is 18+)

summary: It’s always on the most momentous occasions that things fall apart - but with some luck, love is always enough to bring people back together.

a/n: Happy 1 year anniversary to OTR! I’ve had this drabble in my head for quite some time, and I shed so many tears writing it. It’s pretty angsty, but really special to me (and you get to meet the newest member of the Kim family!). The title of this is inspired by my absolute favorite book, A Place for Us by Fatima Farheen Mirza. Nothing I write will ever come close to it, but please go and read it right now (the drabble can wait). I hope you enjoy!!

glossary: olchaeng-i (tadpole)

Seokjin darts his eyes nervously between the two options - black tartan or blue paisley, and feels pain shoot up between his eyebrows. Rubbing his eyes, he lets out a heavy sigh, wondering if it was finally time to go see the eye doctor after you’d begged him for weeks.

He hears the door close softly behind him, and your telltale perfume waft into the room, the warmth of your arms wrapping around his back.

“I don’t know why you even bother, you always pick blue,” you whisper into his ear, and he turns at the sound of your voice.

It’s been twenty years, and Seokjin is still never prepared for the sight of you in a dress, never failing to knock the wind out of him every time. He pauses, trying to refrain from vocalizing the first silly, ludicrous thought that creeps into the back of his mind, and instead return to the pressing matter at hand.

“Maybe it’s time to go with something different, the black does match my hair,” he snickers, knowing that now his head was more littered with grey strands than anything.

“You are hopeless,” you huff, snatching up the blue paisley tie and beckoning him closer, wrapping it around his neck. He watches your face scrunch in concentration as you tie it, tongue poking out from between your lips, and his foot taps on instinct, resisting the urge to disrupt your focus and kiss you.

“There,” you step back, admiring your handiwork, but Seokjin pulls you back into him.

“How much time do we have?” he asks, his eyes glimmering and gaze hungry, drinking in every inch of your body.

“We have a little bit,” you whisper against his lips with a smirk, sliding your hand underneath his suit jacket and feeling the hard planes of his chest. “She was still starting her makeup when I left.”

Seokjin barely lets you finish before his lips descend on yours, palms digging into your ass, and it’s a matter of moments before he’s backed you up against the door, wedging a thigh in between your legs to keep you spread open for him. 

“Seokjin… please… careful,” you try to warn him, but the words are lost in between moans when he moves to your neck, licking and sucking at your pulse point.

Before you know it, the long skirt of your dress is hiked up to your waist, Seokjin’s hand barely pulling aside the embarrassingly wet fabric of your lacey white thong when—

“MOOOOOOOM!!!”

The two of you freeze, breathing heavily. Seokjin’s eyes are still dark pools, and he shakes his head silently, begging you not to go.

“Mom, I need help zipping up my dress!” your daughter’s frantic voice echoes from outside the door, and you both move quickly, untangling yourself from each other. You straighten out Seokjin’s crooked tie, and he falls to his knees, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress. The two of you collect yourselves, and then you’re off, pressing a kiss to Seokjin’s cheek as you open the door.

“We’ll finish this later.”

“Appa, how much longer?”

Jin-ae sighs heavily. It’d been nearly an hour in the car, and they still weren’t anywhere close to this wedding. She watches her parents whisper to each other in the front seat, whispering quietly to one another, and huffs, pulling out her phone to text Hae, her best friend. 

“Five minutes, olchaeng-i,” Seokjin chuckles.

“Appaaaa!” Jin-ae flushes with embarrassment at the childhood nickname. 

When I first met you, her appa’s voice echoes in her head, you were on the ultrasound monitor, no bigger than a tadpole.

It’d been cute when she was younger, but now she was fifteen, and growing up. She didn’t just want to be his little tadpole for the rest of her life.

Get me out of this car, she texts Hae.

Tell me about it, Hae texts back. Hae’s dad was her dad’s best friend, and this was the first time she’d seen Hae in two weeks after Uncle Yoongi had grounded her friend for sneaking out at night.

Jin-ae opens up the front-facing camera, nervously smoothing down her hair and patting her makeup.

“You look beautiful, Jin-ae,” your voice comes from in front, and she sees you eyeing her through the rearview mirror.

“Thanks Mom,” Jin-ae smiles sheepishly, instantly feeling guilty for badmouthing her parents to Hae. They’d been nothing but kind and supportive for most of her life, even if they were a little dorky and overprotective. They’d come to every ballet recital and every soccer practice, they rewarded every good grade with a trip out for ice cream.

Her appa had been the one who stayed home with her most days when her mom worked, making sure she always had a homemade snack after school and coaching her through her math homework. When you came home, you would always promise to read Jin-ae a chapter of the book the two of you were reading together, talking about the plot and the characters until her eyes felt heavy and she began to slip away into her little world of dreams.

Jin-ae had the best parents in the world. Nothing would ever make her believe otherwise.

The real reason she was on edge wasn’t because of them. It was because her crush, Mingyu, would be at this wedding too. She’d grown up occasionally seeing him around because their parents were friends, but recently she’d begun to notice how cute he actually was, always making people laugh. Not to mention he was the captain of the basketball team. 

The car screeches to a halt as Seokjin pulls into the parking space, and Jin-ae throws open the door immediately, launching to her feet. Mingyu was waiting inside!

“Bye Appa! Bye Mom! Hae is waiting for me, I’ll see you!”

“Jin-ae!” you shout after her. “Make sure your phone ringer is turned on!”

Jin-ae doesn’t even bother to check, too excited at the prospect of finally dancing with Mingyu. She turns on her heels and hikes up her skirt, watching you and Seokjin smile at her.

“Love you both! Byeee!”

“They’re so excited to see each other,” Yoongi snickers at Jin-ae and Hae tucked away in the corner, giggling at everybody on the dance floor. “Hae’s been driving us crazy over the past couple of weeks, and then Do-woon on top of it.”

“Aren’t you glad we only had one, ___?” Seokjin chuckles, and you give him a half-hearted smile back. Suddenly his hand is reaching for yours, giving it a comforting squeeze.

It wasn’t like you didn’t try. You tried. And tried, and tried, and tried. But something got in the way every time, whether it was not being able to shift out of your tiny apartment into a house, or not being able to move into a bigger house because Jin-ae didn’t want to change schools. Until the doctor told you that no matter how hard you tried, some things just weren’t meant to be.

You supposed it was why you treaded so carefully with Jin-ae. She was all you had, what made you turn from two broken, battered souls into a family. Which is why it scared you and Seokjin that she was growing up so fast. It was only yesterday that the two of you had been holding her hand, bandaging her cuts on the playground.

And now she was older, bright-eyed and curious, and beautiful, and as much as it made you proud, you were also afraid. Afraid the world would hurt her, afraid that it’d dim her light. Both you and Seokjin never wanted your daughter to experience the darkness you both went through, which still lingered in the background of some of your sleepless nights that were few and far between.

“You guys should take a vacation,” Yoongi suggests. “We went to Jeju last year for a week and it was the best week of our lives. Jin-ae could come stay over.”

Seokjin wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you pinch him playfully. In the many years you’d been married, it had never occurred to either of you to take a vacation. Jin-ae had hurtled into your lives not long after the wedding, leaving you with low hopes for a honeymoon.

“Maybe we can take her,” Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “I’m sure she’d like to get out and explore too.”

You smile at that. A family vacation. It would be nice, just the three of you, away from school, from work, from here. 

When you look up again, Jin-ae is no longer by Hae’s side. She’s wandered off to the side, teetering on her heels behind a boy, the two of them walking out of the room.

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to resist the urge to go after her, reminding yourself she’s still just a kid, and you tap Seokjin on the shoulder.

“Dance with me?”

“I’d love to.”

Jin-ae’s heart pounds in her ears, anxiety sending prickles over her skin at the thought of finally being alone with Mingyu. Hae had urged her on when Mingyu came up saying he wanted to talk to her about something. 

This was it, the moment she’d been waiting for all night. Love was in the air everywhere it seemed, and now Mingyu was finally going to confess his feelings to her.

“What did you want to talk about, Mingyu?” she asks him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear shyly.

Jin-ae blushes when she realizes how little space is in her and Mingyu, and how close his face is. All he has to do is lean in…

“You tease!” Min-gyu says, and Jin-ae jumps back in surprise, not expecting his response. “When were you gonna tell me about your parents, huh?”

Jin-ae purses her lips in confusion. Her parents? What did they have to do with anything? She was pretty sure her mom didn’t even know Mingyu’s name, and her appa would be happier knowing he didn’t exist. 

“W-what are you talking about, ‘Gyu?” she stammers. “Did they say something to you?”

Mingyu’s face falls. “You really don’t know?”

“Know what?” Jin-ae tries to stop her voice from cracking, and the tears from falling, but they do anyway.

“Jin-ae, your parents, they uh, well uh, your mom was engaged to this other guy, and she cheated on him… with your dad. That’s how they got together. Wendy told Karina last week and now everyone’s talking about it.”

The tears become heavier, clouding Jin-ae’s vision, and she tries to back away, only to be met with the wall. There was nowhere to go.

“N-no, you’re wrong,” Jin-ae croaks out. “Everybody is wrong. My parents love each other, t-they met in the park, they would never do something like that. NEVER!”

The last word is a plea, Jin-ae looking Mingyu in the eyes and hoping that he backtracked, that he admitted it was all some kind of sick joke. However, she’s met with only guilt.

 Turning on her heels, she runs.

Seokjin is worried. He hasn’t seen Jin-ae ever since you told him she disappeared with some boy, and now he can’t stop fidgeting with his fingers, wondering if everything is okay with his little girl. What if he hurt her? What if he took advantage of her?

It’s this worry that presses him to nudge you, turning your attention away from dinner. You give him a nod of acknowledgment, and he knows you’ve been wondering the same thing. The two of you excuse yourself from the table, hand in hand as you slip out into the hallway.

Moments later, Seokjin’s worst suspicions are confirmed when he hears the telltale sound of familiar set of sobs. Only this time, they sound worse than the time Jin-ae was riding her scooter down the street and crashed into the curb. Or the time when Minji invited all the girls in the class to her sleepover except Jin-ae. 

The two of you come to a stop outside the bathrooms, and you raise your hand, ready to knock, when the frantic figure of Hae stops in front of you, waving you away.

“Mr. and Mrs Kim, you shouldn’t be here right now,” she says, a waver to her voice.

“What happened Hae?” Seokjin can’t stop his voice from rising. “What did he do to her?”

“You guys should really go, I’ve got this, I promise,” she gulps.

You swoop past her, opening the door handle.

“Jin-ae? Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?”

You look up into the tearful eyes of your daughter, her makeup smudged and her hair jumbled, like she’s been pulling at it, strewn on the floor of the bathroom.

When Jin-ae notices you and Seokjin standing in the doorway, she sobs harder, curling up into a tiny ball, and you feel your heart break.

Seokjin moves first, crouching down to wrap his arms around her, but Jin-ae swats him away.

“GO AWAY!” she screams. “I don’t want to talk to you!”

“Olchaeng-i, is this about that boy Mingyu?” Seokjin says softly, stroking her hair and trying to set it back into place. “It’s okay, Appa’s here, we’re not leaving you.”

“But I want you to,” Jin-ae warbles, and you and Seokjin look at each other with concerned faces. “I want you to leave.”

“Jin-ae, please talk to us, tell us what’s wrong,” you give her space, but don’t leave.

“What’s wrong is that you both lied to me! What’s wrong is that you guys shouldn’t even be together because you cheated… you cheated on someone you were engaged to, Mom! And appa just let you instead of saying no! What’s wrong is that my whole life feels like a lie… we shouldn’t even be a real family!”

Seokjin feels his blood run cold, and he looks over to see you in the exact same position, frozen and unable to move. This was never how you wanted Jin-ae to find out. The two of you had spent your whole lives trying to atone for the truth, and now it had come back to haunt you, in the worst way possible.

“Olchaeng-i, we can talk about this, your mom and I can tell you, it’s not what it seems like,” Seokjin stutters over his words, hands fidgeting at his sides. He wants to hug Jin-ae so badly, but it feels like his arms have been encased in cement blocks.

“What is it then?” Jin-ae is relentless. “I have to listen to you explain why you’re not a fucking adulterer, and mom’s not some slut who opened her legs for you the first chance she got? You’re going to explain how you didn’t ruin everybody else’s life because you both were so goddamn selfish? Was I just some stupid way of trying to make up for it, huh? Did you get married and have me because you felt like it was the right thing to do after doing everything else wrong?”

Jin-ae rises to her feet, ignoring Seokjin’s arm reaching for her, and he looks over to still see you frozen on the floor, tears rolling down your face silently. You can’t even look anywhere but straight ahead.

“I don’t want to hear it, appa. I don’t even want to be around you anymore. You make me sick,” she spits out before leaving.  

Seokjin is at your side before you can even say anything, crushing you against him as you both erupt into sobs, holding each other and wondering how everything had gone so wrong.

From then on, everything is silent. You and Seokjin barely utter more than ten words to each other as Seokjin pulls Yoongi aside and explains what happened. You see Yoongi nod in acknowledgment, telling his best friend that he’ll find Jin-ae, and make sure she stays out of trouble, while a tearful Hae looks on. It’s silent when both of you pile into the car, the air heavy without Jin-ae’s bubbly chatter to break through it. Seokjin keeps his eyes on the road, and you keep them outside, watching the lights drift by, fighting off the urge to make him stop and vomit on the side of the road. Instead the pit in your stomach only grows deeper when he pulls into the driveway, and everything is dark, with no Jin-ae on the steps waiting for you both.

The two of you step inside, and while normally you’d be relieved to be home, the tiny, two-bedroom house the two of you built your whole life inside now feels like little more than a shabby cardboard box. All the pictures on the wall, the furniture you’d picked out together, Jin-ae’s shoes by the door, feels hollow with the weight of her accusations in the back of your mind.

The scary thing was, part of what she said was right. You and Seokjin had cheated, and you lied, upheaving not only your lives but Jungkook’s in the process. And while every day you thanked the universe that he’d been able to move on and find love, to find forgiveness in his heart, forgiving yourselves had been less of an easy task.

You thought the love would have been enough to fight the feeling of guilt. And it was. Until now. 

You plop on the couch, bending over to take off your heels, when suddenly, the words come back, and you crumple, unable to stop shaking. Seokjin is there in seconds, arms around your side, stroking your hair, and the two of you cry it out together, finally growing tired of the silence. 

“Shhh, jagiya, it’ll be okay,” he whispers into your hair.

“What if she’s right, Seokjin?” the hopelessness creeps into your voice. “What if this wasn’t meant to last? What if we can’t keep running anymore?”

“___, this is real,” Seokjin takes your hand in his, running his thumb over the thin gold band you wear every day to symbolize your love. “I told you a long time ago that you were it for me and I meant it. I know we’ve made mistakes, jagi, but this, our family, has never been one of them. Jin-ae is just angry, and she’s hurt. She’ll come back to us.”

“I hate that we have to keep doing this,” you lean onto his shoulder. “I hate that we have to remind each other all the time. When will it stop?”

“Maybe never,” Seokjin admits. “But I’ll still be here every day.”

“I love you, Seokjin,” you whisper. “I’m so lucky I get to have you.”

He watches your eyes flutter shut, before whispering:

“I’m the lucky one.”

It’s midnight when Jin-ae sneaks back into the house, finding the spare key her parents kept in the plant pot outside. The house is dark, and it’s quiet. 

Guilt causes the knot in her stomach to become tighter. Uncle Yoongi and Hae had taken her to their house, where she’d had a warm meal and time to cool off. She was so confused. So hurt that the perfect parents she’d known growing up were revealed to be far from it. She didn’t know how to process the news, or how to feel anymore.

So she’d sat on the Mins’ front porch in the cold, thoughts running every which way in her mind, until she’d heard the door click and footsteps behind her, coming face to face with Yoongi by her side.

“Still upset?” he asks her, and the gentle look in his eyes reminded her so much of her appa, and how he’d come by with cut-up fruit every time she was upset.

“Shouldn’t you also be, Uncle Yoongi? He’s your best friend.”

“I did my time, little tadpole,” Yoongi chuckles, using Seokjin’s nickname for her. “I told Seokjin it was a bad idea, I told him everything would fall apart. I was angry with him too.”

“How did you make it go away?” she asked him, swinging her legs side to side. “The anger.”

“Jin-ae, he’s made a lot of mistakes, but he’s not a bad man,” Yoongi says quietly. “Neither is your eomma. They love each other more than anyone I know. They were so happy when you came, I thought they’d never stop smiling. You’re their entire world.”

Jin-ae smiles softly at his words, a memory washing over her.

. . . 

“Me and mom will be back to get you after school, little olchaeng-i, okay? Be good for us.”

Seokjin gives Jin-ae a kiss, eyes wet with tears. You’re no better off beside, eyes red-rimmed at the new dress she’d picked out, and the pretty bow sticking out of her neat hairstyle. It was the first day of school, and you and Seokjin were going absolutely insane at the thought of leaving your little baby, even if it was only for a few hours.

“Appa, let me go peez,” Jin-ae lisps, watching the other children run around the playground with their colorful backpacks. When she sees Seokjin’s teary eyes, her chubby hand reaches out for his, pressing a tiny butterfly kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t cry Appa, olchaeng-i wuvs you. And mommy too.” 

The two of you try to stop from erupting into more sobs, holding her tightly. Before you know it, she’s waving goodbye, her tiny body disappearing inside the classroom.

The rest of the day passes by in an eerie trance. You fret over Jin-ae at work, wondering if she’s making friends, and whether or not she’s okay to use the bathroom on her own. Seokjin stares emptily in the fridge, looking at the heaps of fruit that Jin-ae loved to eat, and decides drown his sorrows by eating the whole carton of strawberries. 

You come home early, and the two of you head back to the school, waiting with anticipation as the children spill out of the hallways, eyes looking out for your little girl.

When you see her, she screams, running excitedly into your arms. She doesn’t waste a second before launching into a whole explanation of how her day went, excitedly showing you the colorful “art” she’d scribbled.

“Sounds like you had a fun day, baby,” you crouch to her height, swooping her bangs out of her eyes.

“Was ok,” Jin-ae says, becoming quiet.

“What happened baby? Is there anything wrong? School was fun, right?” Seokjin asks her.

“Was ok, but I like home with you and mommy more. Can we go now?”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Jin-ae was growing up, faster than you thought she would, but at the end of the day, she was still happiest by your side. And that meant everything.

. . .

Jin-ae tears up at the memory, regret instantly settling into her heart. 

“I’m such an idiot, Uncle Yoongi,” she looks at him. “I said such awful things, I, I can’t even take it back. They’ll never forgive me.”

“They’re your parents Jin-ae. Of course they will.”

The memory of school, and the talk with Yoongi linger in the back of her mind as she slips out of her shoes, tip-toeing silently and making a promise to apologize in the morning. When she stumbles past the living room, however, she stops.

Seokjin is there, his head shifting from side to side, trying to keep from dozing off, while you snooze on his shoulder. He’s humming softly in your ear, and his eyes are so full of love that it makes Jin-ae’s heart hurt. 

A choked sob escapes her at the emotional scene, and Seokjin turns at the sound, eyes widening at the sight of his daughter in the hallway, but Jin-ae runs up the stairs before he can say anything.

The door to her room is open, and Seokjin knows by the light that her lamp is still on, and she’s awake. He knocks quietly before letting himself in. Jin-ae lies on the bed, her back to him, not even looking up when she feels the bed sink next to her.

Seokjin doesn’t know how to begin. He’s never been the talker between the two of you, preferring to let his actions speak instead. He feels as though he’s made his way to a wide chasm, able to see his daughter on the other end, but unable to reach out and take her hand.

Which is why it surprises him when she speaks first.

“Aren’t you tired, Appa? Of the guilt? Doesn’t it hurt?” the words are less an accusation, and more of a genuine vocalization of concern.

Jin-ae sits up, and looks at him, really looks at him, and her eyes widen in realization, like she’s seeing him for the first time. He’d tried so hard for her, to be the perfect appa, to be the perfect husband, but deep down, he was the same Seokjin from many years ago.

“I don’t want you to be hurt anymore, appa. I don’t want you or mom to feel like this because of me.”

Jin-ae throws her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder, and he rubs gentle circles on her back.

“I’m only human, olchaeng-i. I try my best, and so does your mom. We try every day to forget the mistakes we’ve made. Do you know what helps us the most though?”

Jin-ae shakes her head, biting at her lips to keep more tears from spilling out.

“It’s you. It’s our family. This love that we have, it’s our second chance. Our shot at happiness. And neither me, or your mom take it for granted ever. We can tell you whatever you want to know, just please, don’t be afraid to talk to us. We need you.”

Jin-ae nods, resting her head on Seokjin’s shoulder.

“Can you tell me about her? Mom? Did you love her the very first time you saw her?”

Seokjin smiles at that, marveling at how it’s been twenty years, and he still launches into the story with the same enthusiasm. Jin-ae’s curious voice interrupts him to ask questions every now and then, until the questions are replaced with yawns, and she drifts off by his side. 

Tucking her in, Seokjin shuts the door quietly, surprised to see your sleepy figure at the top of the stairs. 

“You did good,” you tell him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“We did good,” he pulls you into him, and the two of you head to bed.

. . . 

It’s only been a few hours of restless sleep when you and Seokjin are disturbed by the presence of a third person in your bed, Jin-ae crawling into the sheets between you, wrapping her arms around you.

“I’m sorry mom,” she whispers. “I love you.”

“I love you too baby. I love both of you.”

“Can I sleep here with you guys tonight?” Jin-Ae asks, her voice full of uncertainty. 

“Okay,” you tell her, pulling her into you to lay across your chest, like she did when she was a baby. Seokjin puts his arms around both of you, pressing a kiss to your lips when Jin-ae has fallen asleep.

The little house is quiet again, but the good kind, a place for your family reserved within its four walls. The night is peaceful.

A/N pt. 2: I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR!! I WILL KEEP LOVING THEM!! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

December Drabbles

Prompt 1: Snowflake Character: Grim ------------------------- Winter was on it's way. You were well aware of this, as you had pointed out to Grim little signs here and there as trees lost the last of their leaves, and the temperature dropped enough to cause frost to form on the windows. You even pointed out that he was catching more mice than usual, explaining they were just looking for somewhere warmer to stay than outside, but he waved it off saying it was just his skills improving.....and that you should reward him with more tuna. Despite his very very busy and stressful life being taken care of by a human who fed and cared for him daily and keeping him out of trouble to the best of their ability, he did notice when you stopped your studying to go sit by the window instead. Curious, he climbed up and curled up next to you. He watched your expression, wistful and almost longing as you looked outside and he turned his head to follow your gaze. To his confusion, there was nothing out there. He tried looking around a little more before gently pawing at your face to get your attention. "Hey henchhuman, what'chya doin? It ain't like the trees are gonna grow legs and walk away." You hummed a bit in amusement and scooped him into your arms, gently scratching his head. While he wasn't a housecat, he would allow it. Clearly you wanted to hold him and it was cold so. Sure it was ok. "It hasn't snowed yet. Back home the snow would sometimes start as early as September, and watching the first fall was always relaxing for me. My f...doesn't matter. I'm here now and just....wondering when I'll be able to see it." You looked out for a moment longer before sighing softly. "But it's not like it'll snow just because I want it to. Come on, I'll get you some food." Grim wasn't about to contest your offer, but as you set him down he couldn't help but look outside for just a moment longer, before deciding he would make sure you would get to watch the first snow fall.

He must have fallen asleep after eating, because the next thing he registered was waking up on the couch. It was dark outside - though to be fair, it had been getting darker earlier- but as Grim woke up he rubbed at his eyes a bit. Surely he had just seen a bug? But another white speck floated lazily outside of the window, beyond his field of view. He hopped up and headed for the door, fighting the knob to let himself out, and watching in awe as he watched a few more snowflakes descend. He shook himself out of his stupor before sticking his paw out to catch one. As soon as he felt the cold speck on it, he raced upstairs, determined to show you (basically) the first snowflake of the season. You were in the bathroom, getting ready for bed when a grey fuzzball barreled into your legs, rambling on about one thing or another until you registered snow. It took you a moment, but you stepped out of the bathroom into the bedroom where you had a clear view of the first snow outside. Grim hadn't seen you smile quite as excitedly in a while, getting very proud of himself as you waved him over to come watch with you. "I even broughtchya something! Say hello to the very first and best snowflake caught by....MYRAH?!" He looked down at his paw, surprised and disappointed. "But I had it right there! I did! Now it's just a- I had the snowflake!" You held back a small laugh and hugged Grim gently. "It must have melted, but I still believe you Grim. Thank you for telling me about the snow. Now we can watch it together." You placed a small kiss on his head. He was about to protest, but decided just to snuggle into you instead and watch the snow. About two minutes later he piped up a little sheepishly. "Hey Prefect?" "Mhm." "I forgot to close the front door." ----------------------------------------------------------

[nrdmssgs]

A heart full of pity (part 3)

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2

Part 4 (final)

Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Summary: Cruelty leads to cruelty. This circle is difficult to break apart, sometimes it ends up breeding monsters, chimeras. But if one participant finds the strength to show compassion: there is hope for everyone.

TW: Mention of scars left by an injury (burns). Swearing. Thanks: @homicidal-slvt opened this portal for me and helped me share something very personal. I can never thank her enough. Check out her absolutely beautiful Nik drabble. @sofasoap created Lastochka series and got me absolutely enamored by a character I, could barely stand before. This is the real power of writing. And my dear @gamergirlbones who woke up one morning and decided to be the best, most supporting and encouraging person out there.

Authors note: Guys, Im sorry, I have to split ending in 2 parts! But I will post both right away.

Others slowly but surely noticed the changes. Of course Price was the first one, when he saw, how careful was Nik while helping her out of the car. Their debriefing was short. The documents that they brought back from the mission spoke for themselves: 141 got into a big fight, which they knew very little about before. 

“How are you?” Price skimmed through the papers and looked up at her. She glanced warily at Nik, but he was clearly not going to interfere in the conversation. “I'm going to be fine, captain.” 

“Yeah, so why every time I hear that, we are talking major injuries in the tf?..” Price muttered under his breath, giving one final look at the documents. “Nikolai, a friendly favor: take this one to the hospital right now and make sure she doesn't exit it the next minute you turn away.” Captain stopped them at the door of his office, calling her name. "Impressive work out there. Keep it this way."

For a while they drove along the night country roads in silence. Both were lost in their own thoughts. Outside the car was pitch darkness and only rare pointers reflected the headlights. “I think Price hates, how I executed the whole thing.” She almost didn't expect Nik to answer - just wanted to say out loud, what was on her mind. “How we executed it. And the last time I checked, he called our work impressive.” He pats her shoulder, not looking away from the road. 

“That's the thing. You ever heard him calling anybodys` performance impressive? Clean, effective, messy - yes, he uses that. But “impressive”? I worked with the man for many years, and I hear it for the first time.” She's clearly venting, and Nik just lets her go, comforting her with his hand on her shoulder.

***

The first time she reunited with others from 141 was weeks later, when she was out of the hospital, and others from the task force came back from yet another mission. Their plane was descending on the landing strip. 

Gaz notices her sitting on the ground near hangars, her arms buried up to the elbows in the open belly of Nik's helicopter. He nudges Ghost and nods at the porthole. "World War III begins in 3...2...1..." Ghost eyes her for a moment, then looks to the far hanger, from which Nikolai emerges. “I'm not standing between those two, when they're on each others` throats,” Simons` voice is muffled, but he is clearly not amused by what might happen, when two of his colleagues might start a full-blown fight over that helicopter.

"My twenty says that they will now peacefully dig under the hood of a copter side by side." Price suddenly intervenes in their conversation.

“Thirty and you deal with them if there's blood,” answers Gaz.

When they finally land and exit the plane, Nik sits beside and helps her, explaining something, pointing to a few spots on the helicopter and giving her a reassuring firm grasp on the shoulder. “What the hell just happened?” Gas is utterly confused.

"I just made 60 pounds - that's what happened." Price has the most cocky and satisfied grin, a man could ever master. “I didn't bet,” mutters Ghost.

***

Since then, she and Nik are often spotted together. Sometimes they are working in one of the hangars on Nikolais` bird, sometimes they just sit on the steps next to the barracks and chat. Sometimes he grins, leans closer to her ear and quietly says something in Russian, and she bursts out with laughter. They develop inner jokes, they are unable to explain to others, little gestures of care, reserved only for each other. But most importantly: the tension that appeared earlier in any room where they were forced to be together disappears.

She still can't participate in the operations, since they grew much more heated. So all she is left is to sit in the office, doing paperwork and greet others after missions. And of course, there are hospital visits. Her least favorite part, because she is so eager to be back in the game, to fight along them. And instead, she gets check up after minor operation after check up after yet another operation. Nik tries to make it better, cheering her up, saying his ‘do svidaniya*’ and furtively stuffing sweets into her jacket pockets so that the hospital diet doesn't finish her off. He finds himself missing their chats, when they are apart, so he makes sure to write her time to time. Usually she gets just a nice encouraging message, something like “You survived soviet medicine*, at this point you're gonna make through anything, little one”. But sometimes Nikolai lets himself be more sincere. “The base looks empty without you.”

“I've left just a day ago. It's your way to say, you miss me?”

“That… And I may or may not look for anybody, who could give me an alibi, while I talk to one particular Sergeant, that got way too creative with customizing his seat in my heli.”

“... Nik, radi vsego svyatogo, ostav` vospitanie Maktavisha ego kapitanu*.”

When Nikolai leaves 141 for a long time for private business - something changes. It doesn't happen overnight: she just gradually starts responding to his messages more rarely. Although he knows, there may be many simple reasons for that - he can't help, but worry. Nik knows he can always make a call, and of course Price would alert him immediately if anything serious happened. But his gut tells him that something is wrong, way worse than “she slipped back into ‘oh he is a bad mean FSB-guy, i'll ignore him’ paranoia”. 

***

So naturally, the first place he visits back in the UK base is Prices` office. After talking business, Nikolai asks captain, how is she. “I was hoping, you'd tell me…” Prices` face darkens by a scowl while he is rummaging through a pile of papers. Finally, a document falls on the table in front of Nik's face. Letter of resignation, signed by her. “Don't worry, I'm not certifying anything, until she uses our insurance to a full advantage. This may take months. But it's the least I can do.” “She's here?” Nikolai slowly lifts his gaze from her letter. “No, she has another screening session in the hospital. Rents a tiny apartment, so that she doesn't have to lie in a hospital bed all day. Think, I've had her address somewhere.”

Nik tries to not break speed limits, he really does. But a rage, rising somewhere deep inside his chest, doesn't help. He is angry at himself for being so ignorant, for not noticing that passion in her eyes burning out. How many times he witnessed her volunteering for a mission and Price turning her down, because he couldn't risk her? And that was before he left, so he doesn't know, how many more times she met that wall with her forehead. He left her alone at the exact moment, she needed him the most. Arriving at the house where she temporarily rented an apartment, Nikolai forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down.

She quickly answers the knock on the door. Despite the hot summer evening, she wrapped herself in a huge sweatshirt. First, she looks at Nik incomprehensibly, as if she did not recognize him. But then she shakes her head and speaks jazzily. "Hey, what are you doing here? Come in, I was just thinking about you!" “Considering the late hour, I hope, your thoughts were sinful.” Nikolai chuckles, letting her drag him in the apartment, but almost stumbles, when she plainly answers him. “Well, actually yes.” As he follows her to a compact kitchenette, she adds, “I was about to indulge in the sin of gluttony and was trying to remember how you prepared that thing on a mission ... Great, I even forgot the name of it.”  

He softly pushes her away from the stove and looks at the set of groceries. "I might just have an idea, what you had on your mind. Go sit, I'll figure out your ‘thing’, little one." Before she goes, Nik feels her hands clasping around his chest in a short, tight hug. “Spasibo, chto navestil. Ya tak po vsem vam skuchaiu, ti ne predstavlyaesh*.” She is so lively and bubbly in comparison to the last time, he saw her, it's almost easy to decide, she is happy. But Nikolai feels, she is not relaxed. Her smiles, jokes and touches - everything feels like a facade, hiding something. 

He is patient though: he cooks and shares diner with her, then tells her about the places he went to, some people he met. It's only when she yawns and stretches, he finally asks her. “So, what are your plans for the future?”

She frowns, smile still plastered to her face, yet eyes growing cold. “Price told you?” 

“Don't be mad at him. I'd find out one way or another. Captain just saved us time. And by no means I came here to lecture you. It's your life, your decisions. All I wanted to know is why and what's next.” Nikolai speaks in a friendly tone, easing her into conversation. 

She brushes the crumbs off the table and sits beside him. “Why? Because for years I've begged Price to accept me to the team. For years, Nikolai! While the rest of his crew got invitations from him, I climbed up the walls so that he would notice me. It means, Price was doubting me, but still gave me a chance. All I had to do is to prove myself worthy of his trust. And instead I throw a tantrum, refusing to work with you, then I almost go KIA. And after that I, a proud member of the 141, start a freaking street riot, even though I know very well that Price and the others always work nice and quiet!” She squeezes and spits the words out of her throat, trying to not raise her voice. “All I did for the last few months - I costed Price a great deal of money. I do nothing. Moving papers along his desk doesn't count, you could teach a goat to do that. This is not the way you thank someone, who gave you the chance of your life.” Niks eyes are glued to her face. He doesn't interrupt, although he disagrees with her. He just lets her share this pain. When she goes silent, he rubs her back. “Looks, like the Captain is your hero of a sort…” 

She hides her gaze somewhere between a countertop and a wall. “What, you want to get jealous now?” “My plans, my dear, never included becoming your idol or role model.” His breath rolls hot just above a tip of her ear. “You know, I have another perspective on your situation. With all your respect, I've been working with the Captain long before you met him. And let me tell you one thing: Price picks his men very carefully. But if he lets you in: he won't turn you down ever. You are in 141 till the end, you like it or not.” She turns to him, but Nikolai doesn't let her question him further on the topic of Prices` personal traits. As a professional negotiator, he understands, that the only way, he may get the answers, he needs, is to push for them right now. “Now, to the part, I'm most interested in: your plans.” She goes silent, trying to come with anything. After an obviously too long pause, she finally confesses. “Nikolai, there are… no specific plans. I just get out of military, find some place to work… I don't know, maybe someone looks for a personal assistant or a secretary.” “A personal assistant to help you sort through your paperwork and take your business partner hostage if the meeting don't go according to plan? Sounds like a great CV."

"Stop scoffing!" She slams her palms loudly on the tabletop. "What do you want from me? I have enough self-respect to stop feeding of Prices mercy, since I let him down. I'm just trying to figure out my life without 141. Or are you suggesting that I put on a mask on my face, take an edgy call sign like "phoenix" and go solo to get revenge on all my offenders? Don't be ridiculous, I'm too old for that sketchy shit!”

Nik looks absolutely unbothered, he gives her time to hear and analyze her own words and tone. Only when a guilty blush appears on her cheeks, he answers. “Someone's got teeth, I see. But you can't just drop something like that and pretend, you don't know, John Price took this guy, who was believed to be absolutely uncooperative. When they started working together, no one even heard a name ‘Ghost’.” 

“Don't compare us. With his skills, Simon Riley can overthrow a few governments a week and Price would still want to keep him. Gods, anyone on Prices place would frankly want the same. Lt is on another level, and it's too late for me to even try to get there.”  She holds her open palms up in a gesture of conciliation. “Look, Nikolai, I`m sorry. I hate it more, than anyone of you guys, but this just has to be done. I will not drag the whole team to the bottom, I will leave quietly, no drama. I promise we'll all meet in a pub sometime in a few years and have nothing, but laughs about the times I pretended to be a soldier."

“Little one, maybe you can manage to escape Price, but I'm not letting you anywhere that easily. What you need is not jolly reunions on a grave of your career - you need… Oh, and I just might be able to provide it…”  She doesn't like the smile with which Nik says it, but she doesn't have time to get a word in before he gets up and walks out into the hallway. "How much longer might they need to screen you? A couple of days?" She jumps up and hurries after him. "Yeah, I guess. Wait, what are you even talking about?"

Nikolai stops at the door. "I'm talking about a little break. You can think of it like a vacation. I'll pick you up in 2 days."

“Remind me, what state of mind I was in, when I agreed to this?” She flicks through the magazine in annoyance, as if such an action might magically reveal anything other than a couple of uninteresting travel articles and a list of duty-free goods.

“I'm a charmer, and you just can't say no to me.” Nikolai purrs, leaning back in his seat. “Are that the same words, you marched with in Prices` office, when you convinced him to let me with you?” She looks him up and down and takes her plastic cup of water.

“Getting jealous? Don't worry, you are my only one. Besides, what happens in the Caps office - stays there.” For the next 10 minutes straight she fights for her life, choking on a water, she was drinking. It looks like anything but a vacation. They move from city to city, attend meetings where Nikolai negotiates, argues, trades in several languages simultaneously. She is left to silently sit in the far corner and make a stern face, because Nikolai for some reason introduces her as his business partner. In fact, she has no idea what these meetings are about. Knowing Nik, these could be harmless contracts, or they could be deals for the resale of weapons of mass destruction. This is more interesting than loitering around the base or sitting in line at the hospital. But every day she gets more and more nervous. Nikolai promises her that he will need her help soon, but the next day comes, and she still silently follows him, wrapping herself in thick warm shirts and cursing the scorching sun.

One morning, when she is already beginning to confuse where they were yesterday and where they got last night, he stops their car by an old unkempt park overgrown with wild grass and low sparse shrubs. “The stage is yours now: this meeting is on you. We either get this contract or not.” Nikolai opens the door and holds out his hand to her, helping her out of the car. "What!? What meeting, what kind of ‘we’, what contract? Nikolai, you're out of your mind, I don't understand what's going on here at all!" She yanks her hand out of his with force and presses her back into the car seat.

“The kind of ‘we’, that starts with you and me. Now come on, we don't want to make our client wait. You can always turn the deal down if you don't feel, you can do it.” She is amazed at this incredible ability of him to give detailed answers that somehow do not carry any information. But now there was not the right time to appreciate his many talents, as she saw a lone figure standing beside an old tree. As they approached ‘the client’ Nik introduced them. “Farah, this is the one, I was talking about. She is the best, I could ever offer for your task.” He turns and goes on. “This is Farah, a dear friend…” “No, Nik, that is not the way you introduce the Farah Karim.” She looks down on a woman, she heard so much about and never even dreamt to met. “You know me?” Farah eyes widen in surprise. “Had a pleasure to work with mister Keller on one of our missions. Safe to say, I know you better than him after all his stories.” She speaks to Farah in a completely different voice: soft and caring. Convinced that they got along well and fast, Nikolai backs off and lets them talk things over in private. 

She and Farah wander together along old paths covered with layers of dry grass. At first, they do not even discuss future objectives, but simply talk about life, get to know each other. But then she asks Farah ‘why not Price or Alex? Why me?’. “Nikolai said, he'd trust you with his life. And Price and Alex are exceptionally good, but… we are talking your territory here.” Farahs` gaze darkens, becomes heavy.

“My territory? You need to extract someone or something from Russia? I guess, Nik didn't tell you, It's a long time I haven't visited my home country?” She understands, this confession might cost Nik his contract, but she could never lie to such a client. But when Farah starts explaining the whole situation, lays out a map of her hometown on an old bench and traces a large area with her fingers with the words "the man, we are looking for… we got his phone ping from this area", her face changes. She takes Farahs` hand and moves it a good 10 centimeters left. “Here. If he is valuable to Russian superiors, they'll keep him here.” After that moment there is no way back, as she understands, that she's going to find the man, Farah needs, at any cost. That insect thought, he could hide in Russia. Well, he should have thought better. 

When she comes back to their car, Nik asks, how it went. “Looks like you and I have a work to do.” He smiles to himself: everything is going just as planned. *** “Just of interest: is it Farah or specifics of the task, that got your attention?” Niks` voice wakes her from a peaceful slumber, when they arrive to an airport. “Well, it turns out, you are not the only charmer, I can't say no to.” Her answer is vague, but Nikolai doesn't mind: in her place, he would rush to help Farah as eagerly as she did. At the check-in desk, they are given tickets to seats at opposite ends of the plane. Nik is about to move on when suddenly she grabs his arm, pulls him closer and presses her soft lips against his cheek. He freezes for a moment and looks from her to the airport employee. "After this flight, I will have to part with him for several months. Can we sit next to each other? I cherish every second i'm close to him. Please!” She coaxes the employee behind the counter with the most innocent look and gentle cooing voice. Nik doesn't hesitate to play along: he hides his smirk, burying his face in her hair and embraces her with all care and tenderness, he could demonstrate. When they walk away with new tickets, he leans in and whispers. “Oh, what a drama, ‘my love’. Don't know, how will you make it through several months without my loving hands.” She grins. “Ok, Nikolai, next time I'll be straight and admit, that I have a kidnapping to discuss with my business-partner.” “I'm not discussing work with you on that plane. I have a poor girl to comfort as she is about to part her ways with me, remember? What a lover would I be to trade that for your boring planing?” “And what for did I play out this tragedy there at the registration in the first place? For you to ignore me?” She stops with a bewildered look.

“Never said, I'd ignore you - I just won't talk business.” He gently pushes her forward to their gate. “As for your reasoning? Don't know, maybe you're aiming for BAFTA award, maybe you're developing separation anxiety…” As they board the plane, she catches herself thinking that she has lost count of their flights and moves over the past week and a half. But she finally feels alive, and it's worth every time he woke her up before dawn, every meeting where she just propped herself up against a wall, every half-joking half-flirting that Nik allowed himself to confuse her more and more. “One question.” Nikolai hears that and turns away immediately, but she doesn't surrender. “Just one, I promise. And after that you are free to go comfort whoever you want. Funding. If you want me to get in this fight - tell me, what we have.” Instead of answering, he pulls out a heavy folder and places it on her lap. There is a small inscription on the first sheet in the corner. "Project C". She flips through the pages and her hands go cold. At first glance, the folder is filled with accounting records, financial plans, personal profiles, and some dry statistics. But she had seen similar documents before when Laswell visited their base.

"Nikolai, I needed a pair of good men, maybe some techs and wheels, and this is a full private military..." “It's just a club for friends.” He cuts her off, brushing hair from her face. “But you could help me to grow it into something big and beautiful. That is, of course, if you don't change your mind about quitting 141.” Suddenly everything Nik has done for the past weeks starts making sense. All those meetings, he dragged her in - it was business pitches, where he not only discussed his plans, but also showed off his partner, demonstrating, that his organization is being approved by the famed Prices` TF. Even Farahs` contract now looks suspiciously lucrative for Nikolai: the perfect "trial run" mission. By no means was it a vacation: Nik just hunted for a new team member. For the rest of the flight, she doesn't let go of the folder and reads sheet by sheet without missing a single digit. 

*do svidaniya (here and below Russian) - Goodbye.

*soviet medicine - Russians sometime refer to any medical procedures or Russian medicament as to "soviet" hinting that their quality has not improved since the days of the Soviet Union. So here Nik is just saying, she is a tough one and will overcome everything.

*Nik, radi vsego svyatogo, ostav vospitanie Maktavisha ego kapitanu - Nik, for heaven's sake, leave Mactavishes upbringing to his captain.

*Spasibo, chto navestil. Ya tak po vsem vam skuchaiu, ti ne predstavlyaesh - Thank you for visiting. I miss you all so much, you have no idea.

[napollya-inspiration]

@heytheredeann requested #17 for the Spotify Wrapped game (thanks for taking one for the team and giving me a bunch of numbers). This is another 998-word long ficlet, really stretching the definition of short here...

#17 on my 2023 Spotify Wrapped is The Archer by Taylor Swift (aka the most Napoleon Solo song to ever exist!)

(send me a number between 1-100, and I'll write a drabble about the corresponding song on my 2023 Spotify Wrapped)

Napoleon wakes in the middle of the night. The previous day comes back to him at once, in excruciating detail. It was the first time Sanders had demanded to meet him in person since he started to be on loan for UNCLE. It turned out to be nothing more than a warning call. A reminder whose leash his neck is really attached to.

In the dim light of dawn, he can’t help but recall the icy fear that had gripped him before and all throughout the meeting though. He’d been made aware that all it would take were a couple words from Sanders to yank him away from this little oasis of peace he’d found. The worst part was that Sanders could probably read it all on his face. He’s found something that matters. More than anything else in his sorry life.

He crawls out of bed as the heavy weight of panic descends on his chest. It wasn’t just that they were doing the job that they were doing. It wasn’t just that they came from opposing sides of a quasi war. At the end of this all, he thinks Illya and Gaby would look at him. The truth of him because they would learn to see right through him and then- who could stay with someone like him?

He fumbles for a glass of water in the dark kitchen of the safe house they’re staying in. His hand trembles like Illya’s when he lifts the glass to his lips. It’s been a long time since it’s been this bad, he thinks abstractly. The oxygen seems to be thin in the room as his mind replays, unbidden the moments in which he’d felt the desperation try to claw its way out of his throat.

He thinks of Gaby jumping into his arms at the beach in Istanbul. He thinks of Illya against his back during a shootout a few weeks ago. He thinks about Illya brushing his hair back to clean a wound on his forehead. He thinks about Illya’s triumphant grin when Napoleon has successfully walked him through picking a lock. He thinks about Illya, Illya, Illya.

He should leave before either of them can. He should run while he can. He should confess that the only thing in life he wants is to be with them.

Napoleon slams the glass down, dragging in a desperate breath. He works so hard to make everyone wonder who would leave him, while knowing quite well that no one would put in the effort to stay.

The next breath sounds more like a sob as he claws at the counter desperately. It’s been awhile since it’s been this bad, he thinks again.

The whole world seems to be closing in, becoming narrower and narrower until only the inevitability of his loss and his devastation about it are left.

“Cowboy?” A light turns on and Napoleon spins in place. He doesn’t notice he’s hit his glass until it shatters on the tiled floor.

“Illya.” He tries to think of something that would make him leave, not see the state Napoleon is in but it doesn’t take a spy to see it.

“What happened?” Illya asks, stepping forward quickly while Napoleon tries to remain upright as his panic spikes even further.

“Panic attack,” he mumbles because it’s impossible to deny and he’s sinking to the floor anyway, gasping for breath.

“Breathe, Cowboy.” It almost makes him laugh because of course, why hadn’t he thought of that? But also because Illya looks so scared. Like he’s terrified of losing him.

Who could ever leave me? He wants to scream. But who could stay?

Illya stays, murmuring soothing nothings until Napoleon can feel his lungs fill with air again. As the adrenaline subsides, tears follow unbidden. He’s too exhausted to care.

“Napoleon,” Illya says softly and Napoleon squeezes his eyes shut even as he feels hot tears spill down his cheeks. Illya hadn’t ever called him that. No one ever calls him that because no one ever gets close enough that they would feel the urge to.

“Not so pretty under the facade, am I?” He asks.

Illya reaches out and gently wipes away the tears. “You do not have to be pretty all the time.”

Napoleon manages to give him a little smile. “That’s a cute sentiment, Peril.”

“Is true,” Illya insists. “You are not going to scare me away.”

Oh, but I will. I always do.

Napoleon wonders if Illya can see. The emptiness that he tries to hide every day. The desperation that accompanies it. Some days he can forget about it himself. That doesn’t mean he can’t see right through himself.

Before Napoleon protests any further, Illya has pulled him against his chest. “Is ok. I got you.”

Napoleon is afraid he really does. Illya gets him, more than he should, considering their different backgrounds. Normally, he’d pull away, trying to collect his dignity after shattering like that in front of someone. Tonight, he’s run out of energy to do so, and giving in is too easy.

So he clings to the arm that’s holding him and tries to believe that it will be okay, just this once. Once is all he needs really.

I want to keep you.

“Help me hold on to you,” he says quietly. He doesn’t mean to say it, not really. It would mean he’s desperate enough to ask for help. Desperate enough to beg for Illya to stay.

The arms around him tighten, and it feels like being tied down during a bad storm for once, safe and secure rather than restricted. Illya hums, and there’s a quick press of his lips against Napoleon’s forehead - so quick that Napoleon almost thinks he’s imagined it. “Not letting you go, Cowboy.”

[outofangband]

For @spring-into-arda ‘s prompt board, true drabbles (exactly 100 words)

Here are four (not connected, don’t worry, I know that would be cheating) drabbles 

I hope these are ok! I haven’t written a whole lot of true drabbles before!

1, Morgoth immediately post Nírnaeth  They had sent news ahead of the man’s successful capture and the death of the Noldor king. These victories heartened Morgoth as he sat upon his throne, even amid his rage that Turgon had once more slipped into nothing. But his nothing could not last forever. One of the infernal descendants of Hador had seen that sanctuary. The stories of that brief battlefield meeting had not escaped the Dark Lord and he was more certain than ever that the news of his spies over a decade previous had been correct. Soon he would have the key to Gondolin before him. 

2, BoLT!Tulkas waits in chains for the Gates of Utumno to open Tulkas did not enjoy the waiting. He was not known for patience even at the best of times which these were decidedly not.  His kin had drifted off to either side. Tulkas knew they must remain distant if they were to support the King’s story but he longed for a comforting presence or the banter he had been distracting himself with throughout these negotiations. Angainor was an oppressive device. He could feel it sapping his strength already. But this plan did not rely on his strength, not in the usual sense. He was to play a different role this time. 

3, Morwen watches Aerin leave  Morwen had given Aerin her cloak. She had two still and the spare would fit no one else in the household. Aerin had been reluctant but had agreed at the point that if she were to show up chilled from the sudden rain, her departure from the Incomer’s House would be more likely noticed. The younger woman was thinner now and the sleeves hung over her wrists. The dark material meant that she was swallowed by the night she left into soon after the door closed behind her. Morwen watches from the window even though there is nothing to see. 

4, Maedhros and memories of the flight He has few memories of the eagle. Just dim awareness of sudden light he was certain then would burn him to nothing. He learns later some of his recollections of the flight and arrival are false ones. For years Maedhros is certain he remembers the feeling of shackles cold on his skin and the agony as they are pried off where they are all but embedded. But the last of the chains was cut away with his hand and he could not have said where this memory originated though there are still marks on his body where he was restrained. 

[realperson022]

I know somewhere @/viacursecasting tagged me when she referenced this song for what we like to call a kpop-sonadow analysis :) but I’m bringing it back to go over it with little drabbles of sorts to go along with the lyrics that speak to me the greatest.

Definitely recommend to give the song a listen in general! 

Drabbles under the cut:

In this world of zero I know you're my one and only In this endless darkness like Oh my god, so holy

Drabble #1:

There was always this unspoken understanding of what Sonic was for Shadow. 

Full of surprises and overly enthusiastic for races, the hero was a worthy match for the Ultimate Lifeform, meeting the striped hedgehog’s strength, speed, and agility in equal countermoves. 

His cockiness and confidence came hand-in-hand to the GUN agent’s displeasure, but those qualities brought forth an even playing field with the enemy. Sonic’s nonstop talking was a great distraction, especially for a wildly tyrannical man that could compete with the blue hedgehog for who loved hearing themselves talk the most. But such annoyance was an overlooked source of entertainment for many of Sonic’s friends at this point, not for Shadow, though.

Almost counterintuitively, the hero withheld aspects regarding patience and empathy when needed in times of hardships and darkness. For that, Shadow always offered his silent gratitude toward his rival on his teammates’ behalf. And when the fight was long won with every ounce of determination and effort, Sonic was running off to another adventure, and only then did Shadow give his own quiet thank you to his counterpart who was long gone. 

Down to its bare meaning, Sonic was something for Shadow, but it was in moments where the fights became wars that everything was crystal clear for the hybrid. 

If the world needed a hero, it was Sonic that came running to protect it. 

If the world didn’t need a hero but someone to blame, it was still Sonic that came running to protect the planet despite the world being against him.

But it would never be the entire planet against one hedgehog.

It was always Sonic and his friends, and if god forbid it, his friends gave up on the blue hedgehog, too...then, Sonic still would not remain alone. 

Because down to the last defense, to the last hope, Shadow would stand by Sonic and fight against any evil thrown their way.

The two of them versus the end of the world because Shadow always knew from the very first moment that he was meant to be Sonic’s one and only even when everyone stood against them. 

It would always be Sonic and Shadow till the end.

--

From this bottomless pit You're the only (one) shining gold Now I can't stop thinking 'bout you When I'm sinking alone Angel who one day appeared to me Take me away to your hometown

Drabble #2:

“Shadow.”

The black hedgehog awoke with a silent gasp, standing up and immediately knowing he was nowhere familiar. His surroundings were practically...nothing; just endless black in every direction. Even the ground under his feet looked nonexistent as he glanced down.

“Shadow.”

And yet somehow, there was a light that penetrated all the darkness around Shadow, casting a glow over the alarmed hybrid.

Scarlet rubies looked up at the source of light, widening at seeing a familiar face.

“Sonic...?” 

The usually blue fur was bathed in a blinding gold shine, and what Shadow remembered as emerald eyes were now a mix of reds that reminded him of cherries, burning fires, and blood. 

“Shadow,” the striped hedgehog’s rival called out to him again, descending onto the invisible surface the hybrid stood over. It was when the gilded hedgehog now was in front of him that Shadow finally put the pieces together, taking note of the upturn quills and thrumming chaos energy now sensed in the air.

Super Sonic.

“How are you feeling?”

Blinking away his shock, Shadow cleared his throat. “I’m fine, but where am I?” The striped hedgehog took another view of his surroundings, finding nothing in the distance regardless of his sharp eyesight. “Where are we?”

The hybrid returned his attention to the other hedgehog, wary by Super Sonic’s conflicted gaze. 

“You don’t remember?”

Shadow frowned, “Remember what?”

The ethereal-looking hedgehog sighed, seeming to run through his next thoughts on how to approach this; after a minute, Super Sonic extended a hand to Shadow, gloved palm facing up. “May I?”

Regardless of this being his rival, Shadow gave the outstretched hand a cautious glance, extending his own out when he didn’t sense any grave danger. Upon contact, the infinite environment around the two hedgehogs morphed into something else, something visible.

When the lines and shades of blue and green below became clear, Shadow instantly recognized where they were now, his eyes looking up to see blinking stars and a pale round moon staring back at him.

“The Space Colony,” he whispered, whipping his head around to see where the station was. To his relief, the colony was still in its orbit, no alluding signs of it possibly crashing into the planet below anytime soon. “Why are we in space?”

Super Sonic met Shadow’s gaze, striking red meeting its match in the other hedgehog’s eyes. “I’m not, Shadow...you are.”

Confusion kept washing over the striped hedgehog, trying to decipher his rival’s words. “What do you mean I...” Shadow gazed down to see where his hand was still in Super Sonic’s own. Then, another - the last - piece of the puzzle came into the hybrid’s grasp. 

His inhibitor rings were missing.

“This is after the chaos control,” Shadow realized, looking up to the other hedgehog to see if he was correct. 

Super Sonic nodded, brows furrowed. “Yes.”

“Hm.” Shadow hummed, averting his eyes from the unbelievably shining hedgehog to look over at the planet he came from. “If I’m still in space, are you referring to me simply floating around here?”

Super Sonic’s hold on Shadow’s hand tightened; the striped hedgehog didn’t need to hear the hero’s words to know what the gesture already gave away. 

“I’m sorry, Shadow.”

At this, the hybrid glanced at Super Sonic over his shoulder, huffing with a roll of his eyes. “Don’t apologize. These are consequences of my actions, not yours.”

“You don’t understand,” Super Sonic argued, meeting Shadow’s gaze with all the guilt the black hedgehog had never seen come from the hero before. “I was supposed to hold on to you.”

“You are,” Shadow motioned with a vague swing of their conjoined hands. “So, don’t begin to blame yourself for something you don’t need to.”

“But I let you go...I let you fall, Shadow.”

The heartfelt words echoed around Shadow as their surroundings morphed again into a new scene - the one Super Sonic was mentioning. In a painful silence, Shadow watched as Super Sonic and Super Shadow saved the world again before him, the figures in the distance resembling the outline of ghosts. And as if to remind him of what was currently happening, Shadow watched as all the energy in his doppelganger seeped out of him and fought to hold onto the other Super Sonic, who with sheer determination in his eyes attempted to save the slipping hedgehog with his hand.

When the scene finished, Shadow took a moment to collect his thoughts and turned to the Super Sonic holding onto his hand in the present. 

“You think I’m falling to my death...”

One nod later and Shadow was snickering to the super transformed hedgehog’s surprise. 

“Please, Sonic...the last thing I need is for your ego to grow any bigger.”

“What are you on about? I’m being serious here! You’re dying, Shadow!” Super Sonic growled, tugging at the hybrid’s hand to bring him closer face-to-face. “You’re dying.”

Crimson eyes looked into two brilliant red and remorseful eyes, thousands of words exchanged in just one long stare. And if Shadow had the time, he would stay here and explain them to Sonic...if this really were his last moment with the hero.

But it was not - Shadow knew deep down.

“I’m not dying, Sonic,” Shadow let go of his rival’s hand and cradled Super Sonic’s face, gently and reverently because this was the closest Shadow had been to a god. One that he believed in forever from now on. 

“And I’m not falling...” Shadow assured his rival. “You’re returning me to my rightful home.”

“I am?” Super Sonic whispered, the touch of Shadow’s hands on his face emitting more warmth than the excessive chaos energy swirling in his body.

“Earth is my home, the home of Maria...you’re letting me say goodbye to her one last time, Sonic.”

Swallowing the despair lodged in his throat, Super Sonic let out a trembling sigh, placing his hands over Shadow’s cheeks, the two hedgehogs mirroring each other. 

“You’re not dying,” the hero accepted this, pressing his forehead to Shadow’s and smiling. “I’m saving you.”

“And for that, I thank you, Sonic,” Shadow’s breath fanned over Super Sonic’s muzzle, their words kissing between the distance of their lips. 

“I’ll see you, again, Shadow.”

The Ultimate Lifeform smiled at hearing the steadiness in Sonic’s voice, giving one last nudge to the hero’s forehead. 

“Sooner than you think, hedgehog,” and finally, Shadow let go of Super Sonic, losing consciousness once again.

[waltwhitmansbeard]

go on, claim my heart: drabble #1

this drabble takes place after chapter seven. see my masterpost for what came before this. inspired by @romeoandjulietyouwish's medieval au.

Vax understands the point of keeping a good pace as they ride—gods, of course he understands, can barely keep himself from charging at a dead gallop in the direction he believes his daughter to be—but part of him still wishes to slow to a crawl, to slink behind the rest of the party like a dog with its tail between its legs. His mistake is so great he cannot bear to think of it, so he thinks instead of Percy's story, an entirely separate catastrophe to the one he has just made for himself.

There is one detail in particular that sticks out to him, a description that Percy used that sparked a memory. He motions to Percy to fall back, and he does, confused, as the rest of the group proceeds a few yards ahead of the two of them. "What is it?"

"Your sister...you said it was a bolt of green light that struck Cassandra, did you not?"

Percy's face goes pale. "Yes. I could not see the source in the dark of night, though it came from the direction of the castle. Why?"

Briefly, Vax sees flashes of a stone stairway descending into the dark, the maniacal grin of a halfling man above. He makes sure that they are not being overheard and murmurs, "I believe this to be the same spell that Gaben Finefirn used to kill Keyleth."

Percy draws in a deep breath. "I mean...it would make sense. I have always assumed Lady Briarwood to have been Cassandra's killer, and both she and Finefirn were potent arcane casters."

Vax works his jaw in tight circles. "I fear...I fear we will not be enough. That the power and strength between us will not be enough to defeat these Briarwoods and bring Vilya home." His voice cracks on his daughter's name, and he squeezes his eyes shut to keep prickling tears at bay.

"Vax." Percy reaches over to clap a hand on his shoulder. "I do not know if we are enough. But I know that I, at least, will either give Keyleth her daughter back, or I shall die trying."

Vax brings a hand up atop Percy's. "You are a true friend indeed. But for my sister's sake, let's talk less of your dying and more of killing those Briarwoods, yes?"

"Certainly." Percy pauses, then adds, "She will forgive you, you know. I have known Keyleth since she was a child. Her anger is passionate, but the fire will die eventually. And you: know that you did not cause your daughter's disappearance." Vax turns away from him. "I'm serious. Self-flagellation will not undo what has happened. The only way out is through, my friend, and we will not get through without you."

Vax nods, though his stomach is twisted into such horrified knots he worries he may vomit at any given moment. "I am fine, Percy." Then he laughs to spite himself. "I mean, I am very much not fine, have never been less fine in my life. But I am here, and I am not going home until I can bring my daughter back with me."

Percy squeezes his shoulder once and then drops his hand back to his reins. "And so we press on."

Vax urges Simon forward, to catch up to the rest. "And so we press on."

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

Fourth of July

by seagreenwaves

In this post-apocalyptic world, Caitlyn and Vi are running for their lives from the infected. Vi's condition worsens and as darkness descends, Caitlyn must make a desperate choice to save her friend's life.

Words: 1990, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/F

Characters: Caitlyn (League of Legends), Vi (League of Legends)

Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)

Additional Tags: alternative universe, Alternate Universe - The Last of Us (Video Games) Setting, Clickers (The Last Of Us), Useless Lesbians, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Expanded Drabble

from AO3 works tagged 'Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)'

[ashesandhackles]

Stigma

Written for @harrypocter​​ drabble fest “Winter Sun”

Week 1 prompt: Kingsley Shacklebolt

Trigger warning: allusion to a violent attack. The photos of David Montgomery grew heavier and heavier in his bag as he descended down the narrow flight of steps. Kingsley pushed the door open to find Remus at the end of the long wooden table, writing a report in the light of the dying fire. 

Remus looked up, the lines on his face more pronounced in the firelight.  Even though this was a place he had stayed for countless Order meetings and dinners, the room looked unfamiliar swallowed in darkness.

He swallowed the rising guilt, and approached Remus, whose expression was unreadable. Kingsley had observed enough of Remus to understand the carefully curated neutrality was a mask.  

“What did you find out?” he asked as Kingsley pulled a chair next to him. Up close, Remus looked thinner and shabbier, and his robes were worse for wear. 

“The child was attacked by a werewolf,” Kingsley confirmed.

He tried to extinguish the images swirling in his mind: of the wound he had seen on the child, the horrified disgust of the Healers when they understood the implications. “It looks like Greyback’s work.”

The nib of Remus’s quill broke on the parchment, and yet his expression remained unchanged. “How do you know?”

Kingsley gave him a sidelong glance. “It seems the child was attacked by a human- at first.”

“He probably tried to hold on-” Remus said, rolling his shoulder, where Kingsley knew - from the files in the Werewolf Registry - his own cursed wound was. “-Until it was time.”

Bile rose in Kingsley’s throat. He wished he had the forethought to change out of gleaming red robes. How careless, how casually cruel - to wear the colours of an enemy and ask to be understood. “I wanted to talk to you about that-” he began.

Remus tapped the quill with his wand to fix the nib. “The Ministry is rounding up the known werewolves for questioning?”

“I don’t know how much I can protect you,” Kingsley admitted. The straps of his bag cut into his shoulder. “Especially with Scrimgeour having Aurors tail Dumbledore and who he suspects-”

“The Order comes first,” Remus interrupted in a clipped voice. “I understand.”

“I’m trying to get the investigation routed to Greyback,” he told Remus, leaning towards him on the table. “I am trying to -”

“I understand,” Remus repeated, the exhaustion in his voice strangled the rest of Kingsley's sentence.

Remus began scratching words into the parchment. “I’m grateful you warned me," he said finally.  "Thank you Kingsley.”

Kingsley had never hated himself more.

Read on Ao3 here.

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

||Van Ink Za Tatsu No Harem pt. 5: Party Rumble||

*Waves* Hello there. This is part 5 of the drabble series Van Ink Za Tatsu No Harem. @demon-blood-youths has written this drabble and it’s been a crazy wild ride has it? If you wish to read up on this, the parts are here below:

~~Chapters~~

Part 1

Part 2 - New Challenger

Part 3 - Planning Operation Party B̶a̶c̶h̶e̶l̶o̶r̶e̶t̶t̶e̶

Part 4- Party Time Descending Into Chaos

((Your reading Part 5 right now))

~~Guests for this drabble~~

Demon mun’s guests

(The DBT)

(The fractions : Elite Demon Anthem, Upstander Campaign, The Lupins, knights of darkness and the leaders

My guests

(My Oc fractions: Dark Eclipse Nightshades, The Shallow Butterflies, The Season demon warriors, Cursed Vixens

((Canon OC guests: Deku and Bakugo from BHA with some of the A-1 class, Rin Okumura from Ao No Exorcist, Atsushi from BSD, Ren aka Joker from Persona 5 and Denji from Chainsaw man.

((Their is not much of a warning but will be swearing, maybe fighting, and possible insulting. Grammar is still not good but just giving a heads up. With that, I hope you like it.))

“........................”

Everyone in the room was silent with eyes wide or some just really speechless. Denji really had the guts to say this to everyone with no problem! He was fully confident in this. He was happy with his answer like nothing was wrong.

Well, not anymore.

“What? Did I say something wrong?” He was confused to why everyone got silent but their was still silence in the room till-

“THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY!?” Denji blinks to look over at Bakugo that gets up but glaring at him while getting up in his face. “What the fuck do you go off saying that like you know any better!” He shouted but Denji looked confused.

“What? We were playing a game and I did answer honestly.”

“...SO YOU WERE FUCKING SERIOUS! Look Extra, their is no way that you would get that chance. You don’t even look like her type!” He jabs his finger into his chest but Denji blinks to glare back.

“And you think your her type? Last time I recall, you don’t seem like proper dating material since you tend to be violent, you insult everyone that you see as ‘extras’ you always seem to love insulting Yuuka for being one, and if I heard this right, you scared the living shit out of that girl over there. Uhh Ashley right?” he looks seeing her slowly nod but Bakugo growls.

“FUCK HER! THIS IS NOT ABOUT THAT WIMPY BITCH, THIS IS ABOUT YOUR DAMN ANSWER! WHERE DO YOU GET OFF HAVING THE BALLS IN SAYING THAT!!!”

“You son of a-”

“Rex, easy. Please I’m sure he didn’t mean it!” Winter was worried seeing him now angry. It had to get Joshua, Shadwkz, and Rust to help calm Rex down from him wanting to beat him up again.

“And I did! Hell, it’s like the only one that is not some extra is my classmates and others but the only extras are idiots getting in my way! If she learns to defend herself, then she won’t be a bitch!”

“.....................” Ashley looks down feeling upset but she didn’t show it while some of the other girls tries to be sure she was fine. Kali was watching this to see both Denji and Bakugo glaring.

“Hold on, you two shouldn’t fight. Besides, Ink might not want things to get out of hand.” Rin said trying to calm things down. “Besides, were at a party here..” Yukio said but Bakugo glares at him.

“You know what? Fuck you two!” he said but looks to Denji, “And don’t give me that shit! I bet you were lying when playing the game! If you were honest, I bet you would have tried to at least get a chance to marry Ink or date her!”

“As Rin said, you need to calm down Bakugo. Your causing a scene..” Ren said with arms crossed that Bakugo looks angry to him till Denji speaks.

“And what makes you think your good at being there for Ink? You change people’s hearts but that don’t always help.”

“And how is that a problem to you?” Ren asked Denji with the three now looking at one another. Kali was eating popcorn seeing this, Yuuka was panicking inside while looking worried.

‘This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening!!’ she screams in her head.

Jinx already shook her head seeing this while the others were hoping this wouldn’t turn into a fight. Joshua was trying to be sure his team along with Ashley’s team make sure she was fine even if she didn’t look up. Hellmare was wondering if this is getting out of hand but deep down, she can tell it was.

“G..guys guys please! Were at a party to have fun. Please lets not make this some battle arena! Please!” Atsushi was panicking with Midoriya trying to break this up.

“Fuck off! I bet you were thinking the same with Ink too, and you too Midoriya!” He shouted seeing the two look shocked.

“H..huh?! What are you taking about Kachan!? Ink is my friend!” He said but Bakguo glares but looks to him.

“I know you since your always nervous around her but your just trying to hide it!”

“That’s not true!!!”

“I bet it is!” Bakugo said though hearing this, Bakugo was acting just like Navarro but he had the thought the guys were all in on him trying to kick him out of this game or to at least keep with Ink to hang out and keep her happy.

Mouse was worried seeing this as she was near Fosh. She was also trying to help him breath due to coughing some of the soda in his lungs.

“HUH!?”

“Goodness me, your making such a big deal out of this, Bakugo. Maybe if you just calm down then maybe you wouldn’t look like some idiot.” He stops hearing Vivi speak while looking at him with arms crossed. He sighed to look at her.

“Listen here, this is between me and the idiots alright?” he said now pointing at her chest. “So why don’t you mind your own damn business, stay out of my business, and stay out of it?” he said but vivi looks at him that her dark violet eyes looked like she was ready to rip his soul out before Breezy gets in between them.

“Hey hey HEY! Were trying to have fun at a party! You shouldn’t be starting something even with your friends dumb ass! Now, why don’t you calm down before you do something you’ll regret.” Breezy and Bakugo glares at one another that daggers were being shot. Melinda was worried but the guys saw.

“See!? He’s not dating material or marriage material. That won’t do for Ink if she did marry-”

“Who said she was going to marry you!? I don’t think she would unless she’s ready!” Midoriya said worried.

“True so now Bakugo is blowing this out of reason.” Ren said with Atsushi and Rin agreeing but Bakugo looks at Breezy ready to fight!

“Bakugo!!”

“What?! This fucking dumb monkey started it! She seems to wanna fight!” he said.

“Oh, is that how it’s gonna go!? I’ll be glad to beat your fucking ass you stupid air head motherfucker!” She hissed back cracking her knuckles. That’s when Rust and Midoriya grabs the two to pull them back.

“Breezy, calm down! It’s fine!” Rust said holding her back.

“Stop trying to start a fight with everyone Kachan!” Midoriya said. “Their our friends!”

“I know that, then tell that stupid monkey and her boyfriend to stay out of my way!”

“Hey, don’t call me a stupid money you fucker!” Breezy growls at him with Rust looking at him with a glare. “Yeah, and don’t call her that man!”

“What? She don’t like that face then I don’t care!!! Right now, I don’t like how smart and over confident this mother fucker Denji is!” He said looking to Denji who glares back.

“You wanna start something baka?! Fine, I’ll be sure to do that!” He said as the boys were glaring at one another but the fractions were in shock seeing this. Just how the heck did this happen!?! Kali was eating more popcorn but she was watching this happening. They looked to now start arguing with one another until.

“WILL YOU GUYS JUST STOP PLEASE!!!!”

They stop to look to see that Ashley spoke but she was looking down still upset. “L..Look, can’t we all just g..get along? I don’t get w..why you have to start something when you don’t understand. I m..mean, were having a party.....s.so can’t you just calm down and l..lets not f...f..fight..” she said even if she was nervous everyone looks to her but Bakugo looks to her before glaring.

“Look, no one asked for your opinion! This is between me and these idiots who things they know what’s best for Ink! We all are friends right!? Why that would be fine, if this idiot didn’t say anything!” he said but Ashley looks to him holding her hand.

“E..even so. You shouldn’t start fighting. You only c..causing a scene h...here.” She said to Bakugo but he sighed to look at her even with more hate that Ashley looks at him.

“Tch, your nothing but a damn extra to me. So why don’t you sit down..and shut up? You can’t prove to be a leader nor do anything so I was right. If we did marry like I said, I seriously would have dumb your sorry bitch ass for another!”

“.........”

“That’s not nice to say Baku-”

“And YOU! Stay out of it! Why are you all getting nosy with this when it’s nothing related to you!?” He shouts to Melinda but she stood her ground poking at his chest.

“The last time I remember, this is a party you stupid fucking idiot!!!! You shouldn’t be saying horrible things even when your surrounded with friends! You already said many hurtful things to them and my friend!” she said glaring at him with her silver eyes.

“I don’t care! She don’t have a backbone in that weak body of hers! Hell, she’s not as strong as Ochaco and at least she could stand her ground. True, she lost against me but she wasn’t a weak idiot! She wants to be useful then be better! Your too weak to do anything and you’ll just be in the way of your team, yourself, and anyone else!” he said but Ochaco remembers but wishes Bakugo didn’t include her in his little drama party right now. The girls in the A-1 agrees.

“And besides, your no better either right!? So why don’t you be quiet and sit down yourself! If she wants to prove shit to me..then stop being a fucking useless idiot! Your just a waste of space!” he said shouting at Ashley who looks quiet looking down.

“Hey, that was uncalled for!”

“I’m being honest!” He shouted at Melinda but she didn’t stand down.

“Then why don’t you stand down and relax!?” she shouted at him only for Bakugo to sigh looking away.

“Yeah, calm down. You’ll only make yourself a idiot with this sort of behavior.” He felt his eye twitch hearing that to look seeing Denji looking to him when Bakugo did something the others was not expecting. He grabs some of the cake that Melinda made to hold it.

“WHY DON’T YOU SHUT UP!!??!?” He shouted slamming his fist into the cake Melinda made as it exploded from Bakugo’s quirk. It exploded spreading cake all over Ashley, Melinda, some of the boys even on the floor. He panted to look but the other guys even Denji twitches.

“See, You even ruined the cake. Nice going you-” Denji couldn’t speak before being knocked down by Bakugo as they were fighting now. “Guys No!” Now the boys were  trying to break up the fight while Melinda was cleaning the cake off of her face but she heard a hic to look. She got worried seeing Ashley crying before she goes to the washroom.

“Ash! Ashley, come back! Please come back!!” Melinda glares at Bakugo before follow her with Ophelia, Yuuka, Luna, Hellmare, and Ochaco too. Now everyone was either trying to break up the fighting or end up trying to get the group to stop this. It was crazy that it worried everyone but now it was crazy with the fighting and the crazy mess.

“Take that back you jerk!”

“Make me!” Denji shouts but got hit with Midoriya and Atsushi trying to break it up worried with Ren and Rin as well. Now the fighting has gotten worse and worse that everyone was shouting trying to break it up with a door slamming shut while it shows Ashley locked herself in the bathroom alone. Yeah, this was getting out of hand now.

“I think Ink will be happy with me! Your not dating material!” Denji said holding Bakugo down.

“SHE DON’T EVEN SEE YOU AS THAT! SHE WOULD BE MISERABLE!” Bakguo shouted.

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!!! SO FUCK YOU!!” Bakugo said angry.

“NO FUCK YOU!!”

“FUCK YOU!!”

“Guys please, your not making this better and Ink wouldn’t be happy seeing this so stop please!” Midoriya said.

“SHUT UP DEKU!!”

“Guys stop!!” Rin and Ren said trying to break it up. The fighting just kept going with more and more cake being thrown or things being chucked like the board games and things. However, before it got worse..

“ENOUGH!!!!!”

The fighting stops along with the shouting to see it was Ink that said it. She looks quiet but looks to the group. It seems she had something to say  but what could it be after seeing that?

[jamiewintons]

I posted 1,888 times in 2022

That's 955 more posts than 2021!

910 posts created (48%)

978 posts reblogged (52%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@jamiewintons

@adhdthomasthorne

@carolsfeelgoodstuff

@demontoucansam

@agir1ukn0w

I tagged 1,866 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#ask - 451 posts

#anonymous - 395 posts

#mari speaks - 370 posts

#bbc ghosts - 172 posts

#jamie winton x reader - 155 posts

#thomas thorne - 143 posts

#thomas thorne x reader - 141 posts

#you me and the apocalypse - 138 posts

#mat baynton - 134 posts

#ariel conroy - 112 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i just thought that thomas would definitely be the type to do the whole 'the stars are beautiful tonight' 'you know what's more beautiful?'

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Heya ! I read all your Thomas related writings and I must say that I love them, it's so much fun to read ! Could I request a fic or drabble where the ghost!reader who came from a similar era as Thomas, disappeared 3 years before Allison's arrival and everyone thought that she had moved on but in reality she was just asleep somewhere and they just forgot to check that specific place so reader just comes back without realising that years went by and Thomas is just in SHOCK 😂 thank you !!

This was a fun idea! I hope you enjoy what I wrote, anon!

Warnings: One s*xual comment (made by Julian). Both Thomas and the reader being dramatic and sappy.

As your eyes fluttered open and you looked around at your surroundings, you realised you'd fallen asleep in the attic. Again. You really needed to stop wandering up there.

You had a bad habit of falling asleep in the strangest of places, which you believed was a lasting effect of your death. You had died in your sleep, and would often find yourself so tired that you'd take very long naps, sometimes for days on end if no one came to wake you. Though this time, you had seemed to have awoken on your own. That was good. You hated to be a bother.

Enthusiastic to get to go and see your fellow ghosts, you stood from your rather uncomfortable sleeping place on the floor with a yawn. You walked out through the wall and descended the stairs, taking a look around you as you strolled through the hallway. Everything looked… nicer. Far less dilapidated. No cobwebs littering the ceiling corners. No dripping water. You couldn’t imagine that Heather had been going around cleaning and repairing things, the poor woman was so old and frail that she could barely find the strength to leave her bed most days. Plus, her money had all but run out, so she hardly could have been hiring people to do it for her.

All of those thoughts seemed to leave your head when you saw a familiar head of dark brown curls walking around the corner, and with a smile and a wave, you greeted him.

“Good morning, Thomas, it’s lovely to see you,” you said politely, and watched the man stop dead in his tracks.

Thomas’ eyes went wider than you’d ever seen them as he stared at you unblinkingly. “H…heavens above…” he stammered, “This is… what on Earth?”

“Oh, Thomas, are you feeling alright?” you asked him, concerned. His eyes grew wider still when you placed a gentle hand on his arm, and he spent a few more moments simply staring at you, utterly flabbergasted, before abruptly turning away and bolting through a wall.

As you stood there alone, you felt your heart sink. What was wrong with Thomas this morning? He was usually so happy to see you, all sweet smiles and kind words. Had you done something to offend him? The two of you were getting along perfectly fine the last time you spoke, and that was only yesterday. What could have changed?

Dejected, you turned and walked back towards where you had awoken in the attic.

*

“Everybody, please, be quiet for a moment, I beg of you!” Thomas exclaimed, nearly tripping over his own feet as he burst through the wall into the common room, where all of the other ghosts were sitting, seemingly listening to something that the Captain was saying.

“What is it, Thorne?” The Captain asked, sounding more than a little impatient. “I think you will find that we were all supposed to meet here at–”

“Y/N! She was there! I saw her! Oh, good God, I thought she was gone forever…” Thomas collapsed dramatically into the chair by the window, almost as if he had fainted, but he was wide awake.

“Y/N? Who’s Y/N?” inquired Alison, who Thomas had surprisingly not noticed was present in the room until she spoke up.

“Another ghost that lived here a while ago. Moved on a few years before you showed up,” Pat explained as he adjusted his glasses. “Didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to her.”

“Thomas in big love with her,” Robin added with an amused smirk. “He cry for days when she leave.”

“I did not cry for days, actually, I–”

“Was she wearing all of her clothes when you saw her?” Julian interjected, with a smirk of his own, though his was far more mischievous than Robin’s had been.

Thomas let out a loud, scandalised gasp. “Of course she was!”

Julian shrugged nonchalantly. “I thought you might have been having one of those dreams,” he said with a wink, as if his tone didn’t convey what kind of dream he was talking about. “I mean, everyone knows how much you wanted to f–”

Thankfully the Captain cut Julian off before he could finish his sentence, which would certainly have caused he and Thomas to begin fighting, and not for the first time. “Yes, thank you, Julian. Anyway, Y/N has been gone for years, so Thorne can’t have seen her.”

“I swear, she was right in front of me! She said good morning… and touched my arm…” Thomas was holding his hand over his heart, which surely would have been beating frantically if he were still alive. “I was shocked, of course, so I ran down here, and–Oh God, I left her so suddenly, I hope I haven’t upset her.”

Thomas looked back to his fellow ghosts, noticing that they were all still staring at him with either disbelief, sympathy, or a mix of both. He scoffed, offended. “Fine. If you all doubt me, I shall go and find her myself, and prove to you that I am not simply imagining things.”

He stormed out of the room through the wall, irritated that no one believed what he was saying. Why on Earth would he imagine you there, after you being gone for three years? In all honesty, he did his best to not think about you, it hurt him far too much. You had gone and moved on before he’d had the chance to tell you how he felt… if only he’d gathered his courage sooner…

But none of that mattered now, because you were back. Thomas had no idea how, but he was never going to question such a glorious miracle. Why would he? It didn’t matter how it happened, only that it had. Under the initial shock, he still felt the same warmth in his chest when he looked at you; something that should have been impossible owing to the fact that he was dead.

Thomas went back to where he had seen you earlier, though you were no longer there. That made sense he supposed, he had been gone for a while as he argued with everyone else about whether you existed at all. He wouldn’t expect you to just stand there in the hallway and wait around for him. 

So he traversed the hallways, searching for where you could have got to.

See the full post

217 notes - Posted May 8, 2022

#4

I saw this TikTok and immediately thought it had intense Thomas Thorne energy. (Source)

264 notes - Posted April 26, 2022

#3

See the full post

307 notes - Posted March 17, 2022

#2

See the full post

316 notes - Posted May 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

See the full post

506 notes - Posted January 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →