#There's no red swirling clouds but I guess that could be explained away as a side effect of permanent Dynamaxing

[melonthesprigatito]

Honestly, I think it's hilarious that the Detective Pikachu movie managed to slip in a blatant reference to Dynamaxing with that entire Torterra garden scene and absolutely NOBODY noticed because the movie came out before Sword and Shield did.

First time I watched the movie, I was like "Oh, I wonder what kind of fucked up unethical experiments that lab did on those poor Torterra to make them grow so big. :(" but when I rewatched it during quarantine after I played Sword, it dawned on me that they must have pumped the Torterra full of Dynamax particles.

Like, this movie and SwSh were probably in development around the same time so I bet some writer on the Detective Pikachu team was just sitting there like "Wouldn't it be funny if we had this entire scene with a game mechanic nobody knows about yet, so when people rewatch the movie later, they'll be like "OH YOU MOTHER FUCK-"

[darth-aces]

Orange Hour

Bella Ramsey x Reader

A short one for this week. Some feedback or suggestions for other stories is always welcomed if you wanted to share any by the way!

Walking towards Bella’s trailer, you unravel a clementine. One hand held the orange, the other hand-multitasking-began peeling away as it held onto a second orange. It’s small volume made it easy to peel and divide, making it even easier for you to share with others.

By the time you reached Bella’s door the clementine was completely peeled. Holding the peel and oranges in one hand you used the other hand to knock. Almost instantly the door opens to a smiling Bella.

“I see my daily dose of vitamin c has finally arrived.” When they say this they bring their hands up cupping them signaling me that they wanted some.

You and Bella do this at the end of each day after filming. You two have even coined this time of your day as the ‘orange hour’. A play on words to it’s ‘golden hour’ counterpart and an attempt to mark a time of the day dedicated to each other.

Surrendering the clementine to them, you place it in their hands and they begin tearing the pieces apart in pairs.

“Lets get going or else we’ll miss it.” You say.

With this ritual you and Bella share the first orange as the both of you make your way up a nearby hill that overlooks the set, giving you a great show of the color changing sky ahead of you before the sun disappears casting a dark blue. During the ‘orange hour’ you two sit and talk about your day and anything that came to mind as you shared the remaining clementine.

“How do you always peel it in a swirl like that?” Bella asks.

“Practice, I guess. Making smaller peels are harder to carry before throwing it out, it’s also less pleasing.” You explain, your eyes fixated on the sky.

“These are good today, sweet and cold. They’re the best when they’re cold.” You nod in agreement. They truly were the best when they were straight from the fridge or a cooler, enhancing it’s taste.

“They’re even better shared.” You say handing them the last slices. They hum in response before letting out a small ‘thank you’.

Suddenly you ask, “what do you think the sky taste like?” Bella snaps their head in your direction, with a humored expression.

“What?”

“The sky, like right now. What’s it taste like?” A chuckle came from their growing smile.

“I wish I could tell you, but I haven’t tasted the sky before.” They confess. “Although, right now when it’s all orange like that, I like to think it’d taste like the oranges we just ate.”

You nod, agreeing with them. “Yeah, I always thought the sky would taste fruity too.” This garnered a laugh from them and an immediate smile from you, satisfied from hearing them enjoy your joke. “I’m serious. It’s orange, pink, red, there’s even some white from the clouds. The sky is just one gigantic lesbian flag.” They find this irresistibly funny, giggling with you.

“But it’s blue most of the day.” Bella points out.

“That’s what makes ‘orange hour’ so special,” you point at the remaining peels in between you, “The sky is blue most of the day until it smells the citrus from the clementine because it reminds her of her lover. She gets so excited and she can’t help but change colors: red, orange, pink, and white. Lastly, she tries to change her taste: a citrusy, cool, orange flavor. Then she realizes that she’d been mistaken and her lover hate’s oranges causing them to ignore the sky’s attempts completely. The sky then returns to her blue state, only now its a darker blue because she’s saddened by how little her lover likes oranges.”

After intently listening to you, Bella says “You made that up.”

“Maybe I did, but you liked it.”

They hummed in agreement. “I think it deserves a better ending. I mean, why would the sky want to taste like an orange? You know, if her lover hates it so much.”

“They taste good, she can’t help it. I think I’d want to taste like a clementine.” Impulsively confessing trying to be funny.

A snort emerges from Bella, making you realize the accidental innuendo you made.

“Not like that. I meant like if someone were to kiss me.” You looked down at your shoes blushing, hoping to avoid eye contact.

A silence brew as you waited for their response, and you get nervous hoping you hadn’t just embarrassed yourself any further with your honesty. Your anxiety from the quiet was soon overcome by curiosity, wanting to see their reaction. Moving your eyes toward Bella’s face you see them looking right back at you. Their expression had a hint of seriousness but it was mostly made up of something that you couldn’t describe.

Keeping their eyes locked on yours, they softly ask, “Did you want someone to kiss you?”

With a shy tone you say, “Only if they liked oranges”, jokingly trying to regain control of the conversation again.

Quietly Bella says, “I like oranges.” They’re eyes never leaving yours adding weight to their honesty.

“Good, I like bringing them to you.” Gaining some confidence you added, “I’d like to bring more though”, as you start to slowly lean your head toward them.

With the remaining space between you two, they look down at your lips. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Another odd question comes to your mind. “Do you think I’d still taste like the clementines? Like the sky?”

“Could I find out?”

The sun disappears and the dark blue begins to take over. The only remaining sign of any red, orange, pink, and white that night was up on the hill, sharing a kiss with their lover.

[wh3nturtlesfly]

Hi sorry if I'm doing this wrong, I don't know how requests work but I would love to see a hero x villain piece where they're stuck in a log cabin together cause of a snow storm! Bonus if the hero has injuries the villain has to take care of 🤭 thank you, your writing is amazing :)

Thank youuu, and I’m SO SORRY this took so long to answer, I hope its still alright, and again I’m sorry for such the long wait!!

The world outside was a slur of white. Flakes passed across the windows with a crystalline grace. They swirled amongst gusts of wind, all of which sent drafts through the old window panes. Frost continued to spread along the corners of the glass and even indoors Hero’s own breath clouded.

They winced when Villain pressed a damp cloth to their abdomen.

“Stop struggling, you’ll only make it worse.” they said, never looking up. The cloth had been white just moments before, pristine as it was taken from the closet and dunked into a bowl of warm water. Now it was caked with crimson. Hero bit their tongue to keep from grimacing.

A patter of water droplets returned to the bowl as Villain wrung out the towel. With a sigh they looked once at Hero’s wound before dunking the fabric back in.

Hero allowed their eyes to trail downwards and for the first time took in the true extent of their injury. A gaping hole served as the aftermath of a dodge executed too slowly. The cause still lay on the floor, having been torn out the moment they stepped indoors. Its blade glinted beside the fireplace, the silver tarnished by scarlet blood.

“Do you mind me asking what you were thinking?” Villain didn’t look up but Hero could only imagine the wrinkle in their brow. Their voice sounded tired. Whether they said it or not, the subtext hung above both their heads. How could you be so stupid?

Hero winced through another wave of pain. “Supervillain’s plan-” they grit their teeth, “I couldn’t just stand by when I figured out what they’re going to do.”

“And you just happened to graze over the fact that Supervillain might suspect you’d come after them?”

“I didn’t think they’d send their lackeys after me.”

“Yeah, well you guessed wrong.” Villain’s jaw was set, but there was concern laced with their words. With a quiet splash they deposited the rag into the bowl and felt for a roll of bandages at their side. It was a shock to find Hero’s skin was nearly as pale as the fabric, still carrying a bluish tinge from the cold.

They looked out the window in hopes of distracting their mind. The cloth was rough against their skin, a contrast from Villain’s cool fingers. “If you’re thinking of running off I would advise against it.” Villain spoke up just as they secured the last of the bandage.

“How’d you know?” Hero was only half joking.

A half hearted attempt at a laugh fell from the Villain. “I know you,” their chuckle faded into wariness. Outside flakes swirled in their frozen paradise and they couldn’t help but gaze out into the raging storm. “Nothing will stop you. Even bleeding and on the edge of consciousness, you would have kept crawling until you died had I not found you.”

Hero shrugged, “That’s just my job.”

“Your job is to help this world. If you go out there now you’ll die, and that sure wouldn’t be very helpful would it?” Villain turned away before they could get a response. Depositing the bowl and rag on a nearby counter, they felt for the kettle at their side.

Steaming water poured from its spout. Villain filled two cups nearly to the brim, just enough space left to insert a tea bag into each. Color began to flow from the thin paper, creating swirls of red. Red. Villain forced themself to look away from the Hero and the soiled cloth they had discarded.

“To help regulate your body temperature,” they explained when they handed Hero the cup. The scent of berries and spices drifted from the beverage’s surface. It almost made the whole exchange feel normal. Cozy even. Villain raised their hand just before Hero could take a sip.

“Careful, it's hot.”

They were met with a chuckle and despite the warning Hero downed a fair portion. It splattered across the floor a moment later.

“Ack! It burns!”

Villain didn’t try to hide it as they rolled their eyes. “A simple cup of tea, and even then you have no self preservation.” That got them a scowl in return, though Villain’s attention had already fallen onto something else. Outside the wind had grown and whistled loudly against the windowpane. Nearly everything was covered in white, not even the nearby trees visible in the storm. “It’s getting bad out there,” they sighed.

“Guess I’m lucky you found me then.” Hero took another drink, though more careful this time. The distant look in their eyes was all too recognizable.

“I told you. You’re not going out there.”

“What makes you think you could stop me?”

“You wouldn’t get three feet from this cabin without succumbing to the cold and snow. Not that I’d ever let you reach that point regardless. With your wounds you are in no shape to face it out there, much less enter battle.”

Hero scoffed, “A little storm doesn’t scare me.” Their voice faltered as they looked to the ground, “Not when there are worse things.”

Tea untouched in Villain’s hands, they forced themself to take a sip while also processing the statement. They knew the detriments of going out in Hero’s shape, and as such they would never let them leave until they had healed somewhat. But after that- Was it selfish that they didn’t want the Hero to cross Supervillain’s path? If this is what had come of the first time, Villain hated to admit they feared what would happen the next time. And still, to keep Hero locked away, even if it meant they could be safe-

“We have two nights left at most. Storms of this level will continue for some time, and I assume we’ll be trapped through most of the day. However,” Villain raised their gaze, “If the sun does make an appearance, it may be possible to set foot outdoors a few mornings after.”

Hero’s head cocked to the side, “What are you saying?”

What were they saying? Villain opened their mouth to speak, then closed it again. This was their nemesis, someone they had fought before. They had quarreled time and time again, but the moment Villain had seen Hero, shivering as flakes covered their nearly unconscious body, they had to help. Something about seeing their nemesis, bloody, freezing, scared. Though they would never admit it, Villain hated to see the Hero hurt.

With a deep breath, they squared their shoulders and faced Hero. “Once the storm ends, you can leave. Your wounds should be decently healed by then. But until then, you must stay. Rest, and gain back what you’ve lost.” Villain gripped their mug tightly, “I know how important this is, for you and the world, and I could never take something like that from you- but, I do have one condition if you do decide to go.”

Hero was hesitant. Curious yet unsure as they gazed into the eyes of the criminal.“And that is?”

“You must take me with you.”

[alcinadimitrescuwu]

Snow Day (An Alcina x Reader Fanfic)

“Found you!” You jump with a start as Cassandra grabs you by the shoulder. You glare at her. “Congrats on finding me, but was the scythe at my throat really necessary?” you ask as she took the aforementioned weapon away from your throat.

Cassandra pouts. “You’re no fun, Maman!” She links your arm playfully and led you down the hall. “Now we just need to find Daniela! Nerd’s probably in the library, reading Wuthering Heights for the 50th time.”

It was a beautiful winter’s day at Castle Dimitrescu. Your wife Alcina Dimitrescu had braved the snowy weather to check on some deliveries. While she was gone, it was up to you to entertain your adopted daughters.

So naturally, you had to play Hide and Seek.

You had already found Bela hiding behind the portrait of her mother in the atelier. Now all that was left was to find Daniela.

“We should split up,” you say. “We can cover more ground that way.”

Cassandra grins manically. “Good idea! We’ll make a hunter out of you yet! I’ll go check the east wing, you go for the west!” With that, she vanished in a swirl of flies.

You head down the hall, glancing behind suits of armor and objets d’art to search for your youngest. Suddenly, you see a glimpse of red hair peeking out from behind the velour curtains. Not a very good hiding place. Surely she’d read Hamlet enough times to know that.

You sneak up behind her, intending to get back at her for the amount of times she’s scared you by jumping out at you in the hallways. As you get closer, you see her looking out over the village. A group of children are in the midst of a snowball fight, squealing as they run over the breast of the new-fallen snow to avoid the frosty missiles being pelted at them. You see from Daniela’s profile a wistful expression has clouded her features.

“Daniela?” you ask gently. She whirls from the window and begins wiping furiously at her eyes.

She turns to face you and beams, her wistful expression vanishing as if it had never been there in the first place. “Oh, there you are Maman! Sorry, I guess I just got a little distracted!” She looked back at the window, where the children’s mother was ushering the little combatants inside, probably for a cup of hot chocolate. “I guess that’s everyone! Can we go for another round, Maman? You found me last, so that means I get to count this time!”

You smile indulgently at your youngest. “Of course, love.”

*****

Later that evening, you and your wife Alcina are lying in bed together, basking in the afterglow after having made love. Your head is on her chest, your body nestled comfortably in the curve of her hip. She runs a hand through your hair. “You’re getting that faraway look in your eyes again, draga mea,” Alcina says, kissing your bare shoulder. “A lei for your thoughts?”

You turn to face her and she rests a hand on your waist. “While you were gone, the girls and I were entertaining ourselves by playing a round of hide-and-seek,” you explain. “When I found Daniela she was staring out the window...at a group of children playing in the snow.”

Alcina’s aureate eyes cloud over and a pained expression crosses her face. “Oh,” Alcina says quietly. “I see.”

She looks away quickly and when you turn her face towards yours, you find her eyes are brimming with tears.

“What is it darling?” you ask gently. “Talk to me.”

“It was the winter after I first took the girls into Castle Dimitrescu,” Alcina begins to explain. “There was a blizzard the night before and Bela and Cassandra came to me suddenly in my office and told me they couldn’t find Daniela anywhere. Daniela and I had had an argument the night before when I told her it was too dangerous to play in the snow. When the girls came to me, I immediately knew what she had done.”

Alcina takes a shuddering breath before continuing. “I bade the girls to stay inside while I searched for Daniela. It was still snowing pretty hard by the time I went outside. I could hardly see ten feet in front of me, the snow was so thick. I tripped over something and when I looked down, I saw her.” Alcina’s voice began to grow thick. “My Daniela. My baby. Lying facedown on the ground. Right next to the snowman she had built.”

You run a hand along her back, tracing your fingers over her spinal column to help calm her down. “It’s all right, my love. You don’t need to tell me any more if it’s too painful.”

“No, dearest, it’s all right,” Alcina says, smiling weakly before going on. “I picked up Daniela and rushed her inside as quickly as I could. I piled blanket after blanket on top of her and ordered the maids to make a fire. But she was so still and her body was like ice, her lips a pale blue.” Alcina sobs. “I thought I had lost her until she suddenly leapt up in my arms. And when she came back, she was so happy. She couldn’t wait to tell me all about the snowman she had made.

“I don’t think I remember being so angry. I shook her hard, telling her to never do that to me again. I wanted to make her realize how dangerous it was for her to go outside, but when she looked at me again, I saw fear in her eyes of me. For a moment, my own daughter was afraid of me.”

Alcina’s body is heaving with sobs and you take her in your arms, kissing her brow before resting your chin on top of her head. “Darling, that was so long ago. You and Daniela have long made amends since then.”

“I know,” Alcina says, as you lift her face up and gently wipe the tears from her eyes. “But every winter since then I get this pain in my chest when it starts to snow because I know how badly Daniela wants to go outside. I know Cassandra and Bela feel it too.”

You think for a minute and then suddenly an idea comes to you. You put on a dressing gown and head over to the telephone. Alcina sits up as you turn the rotary dial. “Darling, what are you doing?” she asks.

You hold up a finger to tell her to wait. The line connects and you hear a soft voice say, “Pronto?”

“Donna! Bona sera. Listen, I was wondering if you could help me with something…"

*****

“Can I open my eyes yet, Maman?’

“Not yet, dearest,” you say as you guide Daniela along down the hall, her eyes covered by a blindfold. ”Just a couple more steps and we’ll be there.”

You look behind you and your other daughters have similar blindfolds on, hanging on Alcina’s arms for support. Alcina looks up at you and gives you an encouraging smile.

“Maman, you know I hate surprises,” Cassandra complained.

“Just be patient,” you chide. You come to a stop in front of the library doors. Gently taking Daniela’s hands in yours, you have her push open the double doors. Alcina herds the rest of your children inside and the doors close behind you.

You and Alcina take the blindfolds off your daughters and you hear Daniela gasp and clap her hands together in delight.

Donna has truly outdone herself. The library has been transformed into a wintery landscape. Big fluffy snowflakes pour down from the skylight although it is closed for obvious reasons. In the middle of the dais, there is a skating rink.

You are surprised to see Moreau and Heisenberg there too along with Donna and Angie. “Well, we knew how much this would mean to the girls, so we wanted to be here to see their reaction,” Heisenberg said with a grin.

You stand to the side and lean your head against Alcina’s side as you take in the scene around you. Daniela is happily making a snowman with Moreau and the fish-man proudly sticks a fisherman’s cap on top of its head. Cassandra and Heisenberg are in the process of making some heavily ramparted snow forts. Bela takes Donna’s hand and leads her to the ice rink. Donna is nervous at first but Bela gently guides her along the ring hand in hand until she feels comfortable enough to skate on her own. Angie, in the meantime, is skillfully doing triple axles seemingly without any effort. Honestly, nothing about that doll surprises you anymore.

Alcina takes your hand in hers and kisses the back of your hand. “Thank you, my darling,” she murmurs against your knuckles.

You smile up at her. “You’re welcome, my-”

The moment is interrupted when a snowball hits Alcina on the shoulder. Alcina whirls around and you are not the least bit surprised to see Hesenberg doubled over with laughter.

Alcina’s thunderous expression softens and she simply gives Heisenberg a smirk. She then reaches down and forms a snowball of her own. Heisenberg realizes the grave error he has made when Alcina straightens and lobs the missile at him. It hits him straight in the stomach and he drops like a stone to the ground.

You glare at Alcina. “Well, he started it!” Alcina says defensively, crossing her arms over her chest.

Donna soon starts getting a headache from the effort of holding the image of the illusory snowscape and the other Lords have to leave as well. Daniela surprises the dollmaker by giving her a big hug before she leaves. By the time the door closes behind her, the library is reverted to the way it was before. You turn to your daughters and see they are happy, but tired from the snow day.

Alcina smiles at you and takes a book from one of the shelves. She settles down in her favorite wing-back armchair in front of the fire and the girls gather on the floor around her. You settle yourself in her lap and kiss her cheek as she opens the book and starts to read. “One morning Peter woke up and looked at his window. Snow had fallen during the night. It covered everything as far as he could see…”

[c-r-ash-crash]

New Life Chapter 2

Grian yanked his comm out of his pocket and pulled up the player list. He needed to know if he was the only yellow life. He glanced over it and saw a mix of colors. Him, Jimmy, Scott, Ren, and Cleo were all on their yellow lives. He saw a smattering of light green names in the list (Impulse, Skizz, and Bigb). The rest were all a dark green.

“Why do we all have a different number of lives?” Ren asked in chat. Martyn’s response popped in. “I think it’s random this round. Probably a way to make it more interesting.” “You don’t all have four lives?” Lizzie asked.

Grian froze, hand hovering over the communicator screen. Lizzie had four lives. How did Lizzie have four lives? That shouldn’t have been possible. You got three lives, and then you permadied. Or at least, you were a ghost until everyone on the server bit the dust. Lizzie shouldn’t have gotten more. It wasn’t fair.

Bitterly, Grian forced a laugh out. Of course it wasn’t fair. Nothing about this curse of a server was fair. He should’ve been on Hermitcraft, pulling pranks and building an alleyway filled with magic. He wasn’t supposed to be here, shoved back into a horrific trial of life and death. It wasn’t fair.

A new message on his comm drew his attention back to the situation at hand. “Wait, do the different colors mean a different number of lives?” Mumbo asked “Yeah,” Tango said. “But the maximum number should be three.” “Lime green names mean that person has three lives,” Joel explained. “Yellow means two lives. Red means one life. Trust me, Mumbo. You don’t want to be on your red life.”

A chill ran through Grian, and quickly, he shut off the chat. He didn’t need to be reminded of crimes past. He needed to shift through his admin panels anyways, figure out what was different this time around.

He slumped against a tree, sliding to the ground as he entered command after command. Screen after screen of code appeared, most of it the same player code as always. But about twenty screens in, he noticed something strange in the list of crafting recipes. In the TNT recipe, where there should have been gunpowder, there was instead sugarcane. Grian whistled softly under his breath. That was a game changer. Explosives would be so much easier to get his hands on his own. He chose to ignore the idea that the new recipe would also make it easier for others to make the weapons.

He dug further into the code, and found a list of commands, most of which were disabled for all players, even the admin. But one jumped out at him. “Give life.” His eyes widened. Could they transfer lives between themselves? Was that why some players had more lives? He swore under his breath. With a mechanic like this, lives were the most valuable currency imaginable. Suddenly his eyes lit up as he realized that meant he could push himself back up to his green life. Maybe he could even gain more.

His mind began racing, sorting through and dismissing people he could scam out of lives. He couldn’t do anyone who was on their yellow life like him. They needed to avoid red lives at all costs. He should probably also avoid anyone on their green life, just in case. But given that everyone with a dark green life seemed to have four lives. Finally, he settled on Scar.

A knot of guilt nestled up in his chest, but he shoved it down. Scar would understand. He would probably be happy to five it in fact. Besides, Grian had already owed Scar a life. Scar could return the favor. Surely he’d understand. They were surviving. Putting Scar down to three lives wouldn’t really hurt him. Scar had survived into the late game with only one life. It would be fine. Before Grian could second guess himself further, he stood up and set off.

Scott dug into the ground, pickaxe breaking through the stone and leaving a small hole. He swung again, hair hanging down into his face. He brushed it away, but froze when he felt cold metal around his temples. Slowly, he reached up, hands curling around a thin circlet, fingers wrapping around thin spires of gold. He removed it and held it in front of his face. It was a thin gold crown, lightly tarnished. It was in near perfect condition, except for a small trace of dark red along the bottom of some of the spires.

Scott’s face fell, eyes clouding over, as memories filled his head. The sight of a small, broken body, an arrow pierced through the chest, a grave adorned with flowers and a small garden of poppies planted around it. Anger welled up in his chest. He reeled back and chucked the crown away from him. It clattered to the ground loudly, and Scott’s shoulders slumped in relief. Then, slowly, the crown began to dissolve into bunches of light. Then, they began to float off the ground and swirled around Scott. They settled into his hair, and hardened into metal once again. “No, no, no,” Scott muttered, yanking the crown off his head, and smashing it into the ground. He couldn’t do this again. The crown simply appeared on his head yet again, heedless of his wishes.

Suddenly, a soft voice drifted through the air, startling him. “Hello?” it called out. “Is everything alright?” “It’s fine!” Scott called, a bit more harshly than he meant to. “Are you sure?” the voice said. Then, Pearl appeared from behind a rock. “I heard something fall.” “Oh, yeah,” Scott said, forcing himself to sound fine. “Just dropped my pick. Nothing to worry about. Say...” he muttered, eyeing her wrist and the small dark green hearts embedded there. “Mind showing me your wrist? Wanna know how many lives you ended up with.” “Oh, sure,” Pearl said, cheerfully pulling up her jacket sleeve and proffering her wrist. Scott’s jaw dropped slightly when he saw the six hearts there. “You have six lives,” he muttered. “Yeah,” Pearl said sheepishly, pulling her sleeve back down. “I figured from everyone’s reaction to Lizzie and Mumbo having four lives, this much was unusual.” “Yeah,” Scott said. “Last time, we only had a maximum of three lives. You know...a deal might be in our best interest.”

Bdubs and Etho blocked up the entrance to their little cave. “Kind of glad I ended up with you,” Bdubs said. “If there’s anyone on the server I’d want as an ally, it’s you, Etho. And maybe Grian. I mean, he did win the game last time.” “I’m honored,” Etho said, pulling a small furnace from his pocket and tossing it to the ground. It expanded to a full size block, and Etho began to load it with fuel. “But you know I’m not actually all that powerful, right? I only survived last time because I got lucky. And even then, I died to something as pathetic as a fire. Don’t overestimate my abilities.” “Well, don’t sell yourself short,” Bdubs said. “You’re ancient. You know things about this universe that I’m pretty sure even some of the gods don’t.”

Etho opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, floating text appeared in front of his and Bdubs’ eyes. “1...” “What is the server doing now?” Bdubs asked. “I don’t know,” Etho said, the slightest hint creeping into his voice. “2...” “It’s counting down,” Bdubs said. “I noticed,” Etho deadpanned, loading the salmon he had caught into the furnace. “3...”

Across the server, the text read: “You are not the boogeyman.” But for Bdubs, bright red letters screamed, “You are the boogeyman.” What did that mean?

[yandere-sins]

The Exception

My friend let me try playing Hades on her switch and well... I kinda liked it. Namely, I liked all the characters, so my brain went like “what if they were yandere” and I had an idea for this story that I threw together this morning before working on the Fox Wedding (: The latter isn’t done yet, but this sure is, so who knows, mayhaps some of you will enjoy it! Just tried to answer the question how we could get Thanatos to whisk us away.

Characters: Yandere!Thanatos x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Blood, War, Wounds/Impaling, Major Character Death (???) or well dying, I read into greek history for almost an hour but if I gotten something wrong then so be it

Thanatos had seen enough of the world to know that he didn't want to stay on the surface forever. 

The current battle spreading before him was a mere reason to sigh deeply as he watched bodies fall left and right, their souls soon leaving to a better, or perhaps worse, place. It was mandatory he stayed, but Thanatos was well aware of which side was winning and which was losing. It was his duty and his work to know these things, even though it didn't make the fighting any less futile in his eyes.

Letting his gaze wander over the battlefield, he watched the red splatters on the ground, heard the crushing sounds of iron against iron and the cacophony of fearful and devastating screams. He still couldn't believe Zagreus would want to come to such a place. A place where there was futile fighting and too much light, but perhaps, it was a world that fit the Prince of the Underworld, as he was the same, even if Thanatos only recognized this fact bitterly. 

Finally, the battle was closing in on its end, just like the hundreds of people that found their death because of it. The ones who weren't dead yet slowly but surely started to hesitate and retreat. Even as the personification of death, Thanatos reckoned that a pointless death was scary, even though so many humans chose it over desertion. Their death was inevitable, preordained by Thanatos sisters. Still, he had seen many hold on to the last sparks of hope that they could escape Thanatos' grasp. 

And then, on the other side of the coin, were those that practically would have offered their life to Hades and fought to the end.

You weren't an exception. Yes, your quest and pride were your downfall, and by the gleam in your eyes Thanatos could tell you knew. You knew and recognized that you'd die. However, as if you were spiting him personally, you still continued to fight ahead of everyone else, gaining questioning glances from your comrades and contempt from your enemies, which you pulled to the ground one after another and sending them to hell. 

Many before you had this overzealous compulsion to make that best out of their inevitable demise. Thanatos would admit that yes, most had a good reason for it, like saving their family or fighting for their own life. Others simply lucked out on the gift of pride and ignorance, forcing themselves and occasionally many more lives with them into the deep, dark pits of death. 

What was your reason? Thanatos wondered. 

He still had time before he needed to take action, he could allow himself a short - minuscule, really - different thought than his upcoming work, and you presented yourself so nicely to him as the incarnation of death waited for the end of today's battle. It wasn't often that he had the leisure to let his thoughts wander, so Thanatos intended to use these few seconds, which would fall under the radar, to still his curiosity.

By the looks of it, you weren't an inexperienced fighter. Or perhaps, you were just a farmer judging by your muscles. Surely, you seemed enthusiastic about your task, so were you fighting for something more significant than the glory of your country? Family? A loved one? Thanatos couldn't help but be curious about what your drive was, as he had seen so many reasons, yet they were all the same. Perhaps, yours was new?

Even so, you were graceful as you swung your sword around. What did he know about footwork, but at least, yours seemed to pay off as you weren't dead yet. When one of your foes managed to smack off your helmet, Thanatos believed that was it, but alas, you regained your strength, charging at the very same attacker. 

In a way, fighting was like an elaborate play. The only difference was that neither of the parties knew the other one's move. The person reacting better was the winner. He couldn't find joy in watching wars, but even Thanatos had to admit that it was a joy watching you. Even if you lacked the enthusiasm as the heroic shades that lingered below, like Theseus, had, you fought a fight worth mentioning in the books as well. 

Every move you made, Thanatos could see the calculations in your eyes, that keen shine reflecting in them. The sun seemed to break through the clouds just to reach out to you, making your armor sparkle in its rays. Yes, you were a formidable human, and Thanatos caught himself thinking that it was a shame you were fighting even if you looked so beautifully while doing it. 

Taking another deep breath, he could see the swirls in the air left by it. While the winter wasn't affecting him, no matter how little clothes he wore, Thanatos felt a second of pitiful understanding for everyone who had to fight in those conditions. Undoubtedly, the cold armors, freezing hands and weapons, and frozen ground were another nemesis for every soldier out here. Even if their bodies stayed warm from adrenaline and running, it certainly was another reason many of your human bodies gave out quicker, merely submitting to their fate. It was fair enough for Thanatos. It meant his work was over faster, and judging by you being circled and the other soldiers at your side beginning to see the end coming towards them with long spears and sharp swords, it was all over soon. 

You had fought bravely, that much he could give you. Perhaps you had impressed him enough to put in an unusual good word for you with Hypnos, who'd pass it on to Hades himself, granting you a shot on being put into Elysium. But your fate had long been decided, and as you fell to the ground, the battlefield erupted in victorious screams, announcing your time of death. 

And also, his start of work. 

As the winners retreated one after one, happy whenever they found a friend that survived too, Thanatos passed by them and onto the battlefield instead. Unseen by the human eye, he began his duty of reaping, one soul after the other, as mangled and frustrated over their death as they were, following his orders as he shushed them away. Usually, some pleaded and bargained with him for another shot of life, but even if Thanatos had wanted, there was no way for him to help them. But that day, everyone seemed awfully aware that there was no negotiating nor mercy waiting for them as they looked at his figure, frightened and frustrated. A pointless battle, with meaningless deaths, brought forth the self-pity in them, but this wasn't the first battle Thanatos tended to, so he felt nothing akin to that. It also wasn't his duty to take care of the souls gathered here, as it was Hermes' job to lead to them. 

He had something very different on his agenda. You. 

It was unfortunate for both of you, but when he reached you, you had yet to breathe your last breath. One eye slowly and in pain, opened, the other one damaged from the blow to the head you had received. However, as you looked at him, serene clarity laid in your gaze, and you recognized him, mayhaps by the giant scythe he carried around. Your stare was clear and less afraid than he expected you to be when acknowledging him, but you closed your eyes as a cough overcame you, hot, red blood dripping down your lips. 

"Guess that's it," you croaked, and Thanatos could only stare. Conversing… wasn't his strong suit, and there wasn't exactly a reason to talk to you.

"Are you going to kill me?" you continued, undeterred by his silence, and Thanatos weighed his actions. "No, of course not," he eventually spoke, shaking his head slowly, the hood on his head shifting along to his movement. 

"Ouch, that's cruel. You'll just wait until I die like this?" 

Your words were nothing he hadn't heard before, and he didn't feel offended by them. However, he didn't expect your lips to briefly curl into a smile, adding a jesting notion to what you said. Even that wasn't new, but… it struck a chord inside the usual stoic bringer of death. "I can't end your suffering," Thanatos explained, hoping you'd simply know about the unspoken rule that he couldn't harm you. 

"I think, I get it," you heaved, feeling worse by the minute. "You are just making sure I know I am supposed to die here."

That assumption wasn't wrong, even though there had been more playing into his service than just that. Too many kept trying to escape their fate, and sort of, Thanatos was just checking and cleaning up what would be left. You still had some time before your organs would fail and finally take you to the grave, different from the other souls that were already leaving for their new home. 

"No, you will die here," he retorted firmly. 

"I could," you chuckled, followed by another painful cough. 

"Don't test me, Mortal."

In between deep breaths, you allowed yourself a short laugh. Just like him, you were probably aware that there was nothing worse that could happen to your situation, so his threat was just a way he hoped to shut you up with. In silence, he watched over you, until eventually, your eye opened up again. This time your gaze was searching for him - or something really - but your sight had already begun to cloud. No matter how proud and achieved you are in life, in the face of death, everyone looked the same.

 "I think I did a good job. You know, fighting. Thought that if I already had to do it, I might as well give it my damn best."

More coughing. Thanatos watched the puddle of blood around you grow by the second. The spear inside your body must have been stirring up your insides the more you talked. Thanatos had expected something like this, you, young as you still were, had been led by the belief that doing your best could make up for the fact that you'd die. "But in the end, it was worth nothing, right? We lost after all."

Thanatos could only stare as he wondered what you expected him to say. He came here, knowing your life would end here, so really, the hope you had put into yourself didn't have the same disappointment to him now as it did to you. And yet, as he listened to you, seeing your body battered up with cuts and bruises, for the first time in centuries, he felt something akin to pity for you, and you specifically.

"Why did you fight then?" he asked, perhaps against your expectations. 

"Why? Because they told us too. The King ordered us to fight this battle, and only he could have known how many soldiers our opponent would bring."

"You could have run." Thanatos tried to stay as detached from you as possible, though it didn't quite work, your words taking their influence on him. "Can you?" you retorted before letting out a long sigh. Death was near, literally as well as figuratively. 

"Can you run from your duties? You don't have to do this either, do you?" 

"I do--"

"Really?"

There was no immediate response this time, your question justified, despite your little mortal soul undoubtedly never understanding the burdens on the shoulders of Gods. The world would stop if they all decided to not continue their work and fulfill their duties and expectations. If Thanatos stopped, no one would die anymore, and but the suffering of everything would never disappear too. 

"Dying sucks," you whispered, turning your head away. 

"I reckon," he muttered indifferently. Not like he could talk about it from experience. It must be painful, dreadful, and, depending on the circumstances, frustrating too. Right now, though he couldn't imagine the extent, you must have felt so hopeless and so, so scared. There wasn't much other reason for your banter.

"Thanatos… I always thought it was a pretty name, even if everyone feared it." Regaining his attention after finding himself momentarily lost in thoughts, he looked down at you again, watching as your eyelid closed slowly. "Say what you want, but you can't blame them for fearing death, and alas, me."

"Perhaps if they talked to you, they wouldn't be so afraid."

"Meaning you don't feel so afraid anymore?"

A smile danced over your lips once more, a truly unusual sight for a soul so close to their end, and especially after talking to him. Hypnos often teased Thanatos with being too formal and dutiful to be amusing, and Hades beware, comforting. Though he didn't care for his twin's words, yours did make him feel... happy. 

"Let's go then," you whispered, and Thanatos kneeled down, his hand falling to your wrist, listening to your pulse. Even with the feeling of your heart still desperately pumping blood through your body, only to lose it through your wounds, you didn't utter another word afterwards. You undoubtedly were dying, but perhaps, for now, you were merely unconscious as your lungs didn't stop reaching for air, and your heart used all your strength to function. 

Once more, the sun broke through the clouds, shining down right at you two, bringing Thanatos into the predicament of being blinded as it reflected off your armor. Perhaps he understood it now. Understood how unfair it was that someone like you, innocent and kind, was doomed to die out here. How awful his job on this day was, forcing him to take you to Tartarus and put you before the judgment of the god residing there. 

So what if... he didn't. 

He couldn't heal your wounds, nor make you feel better. But what he could do is battle the fate, earn the scorn of many, but at least, even if he took out the spear from your bloody body, you'd live. You'd live to tell your tale, and who knew, even he could apply some bandages, so maybe you'd recover some. 

It was a risk, and one Thanatos did not like taking, nor found pleasure in executing. But you couldn't refuse to come to this battle, whereas he, perhaps, after all these years, could refuse to do his job once. For your sake, and unbeknownst to him at that time, for his own even more.

His scythe disappeared in favor of Thanatos grabbing for the dreadful spear. Never before had he experience the kind of sound a wound could make from so close, and by the gods, he hoped he never would again. It was just your luck that you were unconscious, or the pain would have perhaps killed you faster than your wounds.

Leaning down, he scooped you up, his hand sullied with your blood and the dirt on the ground. The snow wasn't cold when he touched it, but your body was warm in his arms and still alive. Your threat of fade wasn't cut yet, and he wouldn't do it. With you in his arms, he stepped back, looking into your sleeping face before he retreated from the battlefield with a quiet, "Let's go."

No, the surface wasn't a place Thanatos liked to linger. It was too loud, too wrong, and too bright. But to see your smile, lively and happy, one more time, he didn't need to stay above ground. Where you were going, it was dark and, at times, lonely if you weren't a being born there. But you'd also be safe and alive for as long as you wished to.

And Thanatos would be with you, even if everyone would turn against him and his decision, for all eternity if he must.

[the-scandalorian]

Tempered Glass: Chapter 3

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 6.3k Warnings: slow burn, canon rewrite, canon-typical violence, cursing Summary: You and Mando choose Sorgan as your place to lay low, only to get wrangled into a risky job. Notes: In my head, Cara Dune is Katy O’Brian.. Yes, I’m ignoring the fact that she plays one of Moff Gideon’s officers lol Taglist: @bbdoyouloveme​​ @beskarhearts​​ @dincrypt​​ @honey-hi​​ @just-me-and-my-obsessions00​​ @red-leaders​​ @zoemariefit​​

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Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

The three of you sat in the cockpit—Mando piloting the ship, you in the copilot seat behind him, and the kid perched on the console. He had slipped out of his own seat, waddled to the front of the cockpit, and managed to grasp the edge of the console with his tiny hands and scrabble his legs against the front of it to shimmy all the way up there. Honestly, it was an impressive feat for such a small being. Mando pretended not to notice, keeping his visor trained on the viewport.

You’d been sitting in silence for a while, watching the stars streak by. It was a fairly comfortable silence, considering you were complete strangers and still trying to feel out the limits of your tenuous alliance.

Looking at the back of Mando’s helmet, the surface of which reflected the bands of hyperspace that surged around the Crest, you thought again about how challenging it was to read him: there was so little to go on. No facial expressions, no significant looks, and very few gestures—even the cadence of his breathing was largely disguised by the helmet and modulator.

That was definitely part of his appeal: the mystery. He was an almost blank canvass where others were open books. Because your survival had hinged on your ability to read people, you had gotten so good at it that the task lost its fun rather quickly. Mando was an interesting new game.

In some ways, the armor forced the Mandalorian to be much more straightforward. Because it obscured his features, he had to ask for what he wanted outright—unless it was from a bounty. He could easily communicate threat with just his stance. Anything else, though, he had to verbalize. You were interested to see how this would play out in his interactions with you. You weren’t a job or his enemy, and you were really hoping that meant he’d eventually be slightly less withholding with you.

The baby, looking around, cooed quietly and reached over to flick a random switch on the panel to his right. Mando disregarded the action, pressing a few buttons in front of him. You stifled a chuckle.

The kid, clearly testing his boundaries, leaned over to flick another switch. It turned green when he activated it, and the sound of a machine whirring kicked in.

“Stop touching things,” snapped Mando, frustrated, turning to look at him. You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face, grateful that Mando couldn’t see you.

The child lowered his ears and trilled sadly in response to the admonishment but recovered quickly: his ears pricked back up, and keeping his eyes trained on Mando in what seemed like a purposeful act of open rebellion, he leaned over slowly to flick yet another switch. This one turned red, and the ship rattled in response. You let out a sharp bark of laughter, slapping a hand over your mouth to smother the rest of your reaction.

This time, Mando pushed one large gloved hand past the baby to deactivate the switch and picked him up to set him on his lap. You smiled again, knowing this was likely what the kid was trying to achieve anyways. He wanted attention.

“Do you know his name?” you asked. You assumed he didn’t because he always called him “the kid”...but it also wouldn’t be a surprise if Mando did know his name and just chose to call him that instead.

“No,” he replied. “You ready to pick a planet?” Mando changed the subject abruptly as he reclined to look at you over his shoulder.

“Sure,” you agreed, standing to lean over the back of his chair so you could see the screen in front of him.

After some discussion and research, toggling through the nearby planets on the nav, you decided on Sorgan as your place to lay low. It was a rural planet, sparsely inhabited and undeveloped. Mando described it as “a real backwater skughole.” But there were some small settlements, so there would be food and fuel.

Your stomach gurgled loudly.

“I’m going to go eat,” you said, standing to leave the cockpit.

Mando, still holding the baby, stood to follow.

You moved toward the door just as Mando did the same, both attempting to walk through it together. He paused and stepped back, pressing himself against the wall as far as he could to let you by, gesturing you forward with his free hand.

Without thinking, you touched his arm lightly as you slipped past him in the tight doorway, and he flinched away, wrenching his arm back. You withdrew your hand quickly and looked up at him.

“Sorry,” he explained gruffly, visor tilted down at you. “Reflex.”

“I get it.”

He twitched his hand forward like he was considering reaching for you then decided against it, clenching it into a fist by his side.

You stood in the confined space for a moment, pinned by the mesmerizing void of his visor. Inches from your chest, he was so tall and imposing, somehow equally menacing and alluring as he towered over you. It was hard to ignore his intoxicating magnetism when you were this close to him.

He cocked his head the tiniest bit, and you realized, with a rush of embarrassment, that he was waiting for you to move.

Flustered, you turned and climbed down the ladder to find your pack. Mando followed and sat across the hull from you, after settling the kid into a makeshift crib—a storage box lined with blankets—on the floor beside his feet. He busied himself adjusting something on the complicated armor that covered his forearm, as you ate one of your ration packs.

You studied him as he worked. As far as you could tell—with the glaring exception of the presence of the child—Mando was the definition of a bounty hunter. He worked alone, and all he did was work.

He was clearly not used to casual, nonthreatening human contact, aside from that of the child.

You felt a deep, cutting sadness when you really pondered the solitude of his existence. The bulk of his interactions were violent confrontations. He had the child, but for how long? He seemed a recent acquisition. Did Mando have friends? When was the last time he felt at ease around another adult person?

When was the last time someone touched him, other than a bounty during a fight?

You’d been on the run for years and, at times, it had almost killed you—not the running itself, but the loneliness. No matter how much time you had to adjust, it remained a draining existence. You maintained only loose contacts and casual, fleeting relationships. How long had his life been exactly the same? Decades? Had he ever known anything different?

You looked down at the baby. The presence of the child spoke to the possibility that he at least wanted something different for himself.

The kid seemed to feel your gaze and turned his head to train his huge eyes on you. You smiled at him. He grabbed the edge of the box with his tiny three-fingered hands to haul himself over the side and toddled his way over to where you sat. He hugged your calf, looking up at you expectantly.

Mando was busy fiddling with the controls on his vambrace and didn’t notice.

“Can I?” You gestured down at the kid. Mando’s head flicked up.

“I guess,” he acquiesced hesitantly. He watched as you reached down to pick up the kid.

The baby settled happily into your lap, looking up to reach a hand toward your face. You met his hand with your own, and he was content to latch his little fingers around your much larger one and sit back. He babbled and wiggled the tiny green toes that poked out of the bottom of his outfit, which appeared to be made out of the altered sleeve of an old beige flight jacket.

Despite the fact that the child was more than happy cuddled in your arms, Mando was visibly uncomfortable. Abandoning his task completely, he sat forward with his elbows propped on his knees and watched you tensely.

He didn’t relax until you set the baby back down, turning him toward Mando, and he toddled his way back across the floor. Mando took the kid with him into his bunk when he disappeared to eat.

***

From the ship, Sorgan looked inviting: lush greens and blues, the landscape broken up by winding rivers. Clouds swirled across the atmosphere. Mando touched the Razor Crest down in a clearing of a pristine forest.

Mando wasn’t about to leave you behind with the kid—or with the ship, for that matter—so he informed you that the two of you would set out to the nearest village to find lodging, and he would leave the child behind. You understood that he didn’t have a lot of options, but leaving a toddler alone on a ship seemed like a terrible idea. You decided not to question it for the moment.

It was abundantly clear that Mando was accustomed to running the show and operating alone. He was used to making unilateral decisions...and that was going to have to change if the two of you were ever going to get to a place of easy coexistence. As someone who was also used to making unilateral decisions, you didn’t take well to being told what to do without even being consulted. You figured you’d give him some time to adjust to your presence before bringing this to his attention. You reminded yourself that this was a temporary arrangement.

Before leaving, Mando gave the baby a very serious, very stern talking-to about not touching anything and staying put. This was another instance that made it clear that he hadn’t been in charge of this kid (or any kid) for very long. You tried your best to conceal your amusement while Mando lectured the child. When he started to wag his finger dramatically to punctuate his points, you coughed to cover a laugh that escaped your lips.

As you both gathered what you needed in the hull, you asked, “How effective are your lectures usually?”

He let out a tired sigh, shoulders dropping slightly: “Not very.”

You laughed.

Sure enough, the baby shuffled up behind the two of you as the ramp of the ship lowered.

Mando looked down and sighed heavily.

“Oh, what the hell? Come on.” He strode forward decisively without a backwards glance.

You bent down to scoop up the child, not sure how Mando expected this tiny creature to keep up with his long strides, and followed Mando into the verdant forest.

***

The village was made up of a collection of circular wooden structures with pointed roofs. You ducked after Mando into the public house, the largest building in the small cluster. Good-natured conversation and the smell of something delicious permeated the air. You set the baby down on the floor to walk beside you.

A lothcat curled underneath a table hissed loudly at him as he waddled by, and he cowered in fear. You scowled at Mando, who didn’t react besides tilting his helmet down, and picked the child back up, patting him lightly.

“It’s okay, buddy,” you murmured reassuringly. Mando paused to watch you comfort the kid. You waited for him to pull the baby from your arms or say something to discourage you, but he didn’t. When you looked up at him, he continued forward to find an empty table.

Mando scanned the room carefully as he strode between the tables. You noticed an intimidating woman surveying him as he passed. You seated yourselves, and a woman in an apron approached with a friendly smile on her face.

“Welcome, travelers. Can I interest you in anything?”

“Bone broth for the little one,” requested Mando. Then he turned to look at you.

“One for me too, please.”

“Very well,” replied the woman.

Jerking his head towards the intimidating woman, Mando asked, “That one, over there—when did she arrive?”

The woman hesitated, and then said, “Uh, I’ve seen her here for the last week or so.”

“What’s her business here?”

You studied the woman in question, noting her piecemeal armor and tattoos. She looked like a war-hardened soldier.

“Oh, well there’s not much business in Sorgan, so I can’t say,” the server responded noncommittally. “She doesn’t strike me as a log runner.”

Mando reached into his belt and threw some credits toward her on the table. She brightened.

“Well, thank you, sir. I will get those broths to you as soon as possible, and I will throw in a flagon of spotchka for good measure. I will be right back with that.”

The server left, and the unobstructed view revealed that the woman he’d been asking about had disappeared.

Mando stood quickly.

“Stay with the kid?” he asked, looking down at you.

You hummed your assent, but he watched you for a long moment, as if assessing whether or not this was a safe idea. He was weighing the risk of leaving the kid with you against the risk of not neutralizing the possible threat of this stranger.

“I’m not going anywhere. We agreed to stick together for the time being, remember? Relax,” you assured him. It wasn’t much of a commitment, but what else could you say?

He nodded decisively and turned on his heel.

You and the kid watched him leave. The baby made a small whimpering sound as Mando disappeared through the curtain that hung over the exit.

You considered the baby as you waited for your food. He looked around, curiously taking in his surroundings.

What species is he? You’d never encountered anyone like him. Despite the fact that he was clearly a toddler, he looked a bit like an old man. And a tortoise? And maybe a frog? Whatever he looked like, he was really damn cute. Those big eyes and huge, expressive ears were undeniably adorable. You’d never felt a maternal instinct in your life, but in that moment, you wanted to pick him up and snuggle him again. You resisted the urge.

The server returned with two steaming bowls of broth and a flagon of electric blue liquor. The child immediately reached out for the broth, letting out a string of gibberish.

“It’s too hot. Let’s let it cool.”

He narrowed his eyes at you and let out a disapproving huff.

Despite his protests, you waited until the broth cooled a bit before setting it in front of him. He picked up the bowl and slurped happily.

You didn’t start to worry about Mando until you’d finished your own broth and the drink—you’d figured Mando wasn’t about to drink spotchka—and he still hadn’t come back. You scooped up the kid, who was still holding his little wooden bowl of soup, and slipped out the exit to look for Mando.

The loud sounds of a brawl made it easy to locate him.

He was locked in an intense hand-to-hand fight with the woman. They were both on the ground, Mando on top of her briefly until she used her strong legs to launch him over her body onto his back. He landed with a thud.

Ouch.

You set the baby down on the ground, but neither Mando nor the woman noticed. The two of them seemed fairly equally matched. To be safe, though, you eased your blaster out of its holster and held it loosely by your side.

Before you’d decided whether or not to intervene, the fight ended in a stalemate, both of them flat on their backs, having drawn their blasters simultaneously.

They panted on the ground, until Mando lolled his head to the side and saw you and the kid watching them, the baby slurping his broth loudly.

“You want some soup?” Mando deadpanned, looking up at the woman. You let out a sharp laugh at the unexpected question.

The tension dissolved, and they both brought their blasters back down to their sides.

You sheathed your blaster and offered Mando a hand, and—to your surprise—he took it without hesitation.

“Thanks for jumping in to help,” Mando grunted as he got to his feet slowly and dropped your hand to dust himself off.

“Hey, I was ready to step in,” you held out your blaster pointedly. “I probably wouldn’t have let her kill you.”

The woman chuckled as she straightened up then turned to walk back to the public house.

“Good to know,” retorted Mando, fixing you with an exasperated head tilt.

***

The four of you sat down together and talked for a while, sipping broth. Mando introduced himself to the woman, ignoring you and the kid. His manners seemed to come and go.

The woman shared that her name was Cara Dune.

“And who is this?” Cara inquired, eyebrows raised, looking from you and the baby to Mando.

Interested to hear how he’d explain your presence, you waited to see what Mando would say before answering.

“Long story,” replied Mando. Yep, that seems about right.

You introduced yourself, offering a fake name and sticking out a hand to shake Cara’s hand.

Mando’s head snapped to you: “You didn’t tell me your name.”

“You never asked,” you shrugged.

If Cara was confused that Mando didn’t know your name, she didn’t say anything about it. She shared that she had been a shock trooper in the Alliance, but she was trying to make a new life for herself, away from all that.

When she inquired, you shared a carefully curated set of details about yourself: born on Naboo, studied on Coruscant, now a freelance programmer with a diverse set of clientele and therefore stayed off the grid as a rule, with Mando at the moment to get from one place to the next and find more work—Sorgan was a temporary stopover.

You figured Mando didn’t love the idea of being described as a glorified taxi service, but it was better than disclosing the truth.

Mando leaned forward slightly and fixed you with his unwavering gaze while you spoke but questioned nothing. You knew he likely recognized the gaping holes in your story, considering he’d witnessed firsthand how well you could hold your own in a fight.

He shared little about himself, aside from the fact that he was in the Guild but not currently in pursuit of a bounty. Cara explained that she’d thought Mando was hunting her and that was why she reacted so defensively.

Understandable. That’s a much more reasonable reaction to his attention than flirting with him from afar liked I’d done in Nevarro. Whoops.

Finally, Cara stood: “Well, this has been a real treat, but unless you want to go another round, Mando, either you or I are gonna have to move on, and I was here first.” She turned to you and added: “You, on the other hand, are welcome to stay.” She winked at you and sauntered away.

You let out a surprised laugh, and Mando swiveled his head from Cara to you so fast, he probably tweaked his neck.

You couldn’t decide if it was hilarious or frustrating (probably both) that Cara had warmed to you over the course of a twenty-minute conversation while Mando remained aloof after more than twenty-four hours together.

Mando shook his head like he was willing away an unwelcome thought and leaned an elbow on the table: “Well, looks like this planet is taken.”

“Technically, that only applies to you.”

“You want to stay here?” There was a hint of unease in his otherwise even voice.

“No, Mando. You’re stuck with me for now, remember?”

“Right.”

You leaned forward and placed both your palms on the table: “But before we leave, I would like it on the record that I watched the kid for a full ten minutes without running away or harming a single hair on his wrinkly head.” You reached over to rub one of the child’s ears briefly, and he cooed up at you. “And I am electing not to ditch you and stay here with Cara even though she seems much more fun than you.”

A sound that might have been a laugh crackled through the modulator.

“So maybe you don’t have to breathe down my neck every second when we’re on the Crest?”

“You did almost let Cara kill me.”

You leaned back and laughed. “So, you admit it—you needed help.”

“No—I...That’s not the point.” You enjoyed how easy it was to agitate Mando.

“You’re right, it’s not. The point is that if I’m going to stick around for a while, you’re going to have to give me the benefit of the doubt. Otherwise, this doesn’t make sense.”

He hummed noncommittally and rested a hand on the tabletop, gloved fingers tapping out an erratic rhythm.

“I could have abducted the kid and stolen the Crest while Cara took her time kicking your ass, but I didn’t.”

“It sounds like you considered it.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Mando.” 

You fixed him with an impatient stare, and he met your look with his impassive visor.

You huffed, and letting the levity fall away, so he knew you meant it, you asked, “Maybe it would just be easier for me to find some other way out of here?”

His fingers stilled. “No.”

“Okay... so, you’ll lighten up?”

In a well-timed interruption, the kid quirked his head at Mando and let out a string of nonsense that had the upward cadence of a question.

“He’s wondering the same thing.”

The child stretched his arms out toward Mando and wiggled his fingers. “He just wants to be picked up.” Mando scooped him up and tucked him under his arm. “But, point taken. Let’s get out of here,” he said, lifting his hand to flag down the server.

Mando seemed surprised when you reached into your bag and pulled out a small pouch of credits to pay for the food. In reality, it was one of three that you had on you at the moment.

You were a professional at disappearing. You always had a blaster at your back, a knife on your belt, another knife strapped to your ankle, and plenty of credits on your person. Plus, the roughly hewn necklace tucked under your shirt looked unassuming but was worth a small fortune—though, you’d have to be in a really tough spot to ever consider selling it. You were used to leaving places at a moment’s notice. Being prepared for anything was your default state.

Mando should understand that better than anyone.

***

When you returned to the Crest, Mando mumbled something about routine maintenance and disappeared outside with a heavy metal toolbox in hand. The kid was asleep in Mando’s bunk, and you were sitting in the hull, reading about potential planets on your datapad, when you heard strange voices approaching.

Setting down your datapad, you stood and walked down the slope of the ramp at the back of the ship quietly. You peeked your head around the side, staying out of sight, and watched two men speaking to Mando’s back as he continued working at an open panel on the side of the Crest.

The men didn’t look threatening, and Mando was clearly unconcerned. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Our whole village chipped in,” explained one of the men, a touch of desperation in his voice. The other man, who had longer hair, held up a pouch of credits.

Mando turned to face them. “It’s not enough,” he answered simply.

“Are you sure? You don’t even know what the job is?” the man with short, curly hair continued.

“I know it’s not enough. Good luck.”

Rude.

The men were insistent, pleading. Mando’s harsh rebuff surprised you. He seemed to flip flop between being decidedly cold and cautiously warm with strangers, and right now he was the former. You weren’t fooled though. With a little more prodding, you were sure they’d convince him—well, you hoped they’d convince him to take the job and stay.

“This is everything we have. We’ll give you more after the next harvest,” promised the second man.

The side door of the Crest hissed loudly as it opened, and the two men jumped back in surprise. They looked at each other, resigned, when Mando walked up the ramp, ignoring them.

“Come on, let’s head back.”

No, don’t give up yet. He’s secretly soft. He adopts stray babies, protects complete strangers, and offers soup to people who have just thrown him on his ass!

They turned to leave, mumbling sadly to each other. You hurried back up the ramp to meet Mando in the hull. You stopped, settling your hands on your hips.

“What?”

“I mean... we were looking for a reason to stay, and they just gave us one. We were looking for a place to stay middle of nowhere... they just happen to live in the middle of nowhere...”

“Cara—,” he started.

“She seems like a reasonable enough person.”

He let out a long, dramatic sigh then turned to lean out the open side of the ship. “Where do you live?” Mando called after the retreating men.

One of them called, “On a farm. Weren’t you listening? We’re farmers.”

“You have lodging?” Mando clarified.

“Yeah, absolutely!”

“Come up and help,” he said to the men.

The two men paused when they saw you.

“Hi,” you greeted, turning to pull on your boots and grab your bag.

“Hello,” they both replied tentatively.

“She comes too,” Mando stated, jerking his head in your direction, as he began to pack up a chest of weaponry.

“Sure, that’s fine,” one of the men responded.

“And we have to make a stop.”

***

You waited with the two men—they introduced themselves as Caben and Stoke—at their speeder while Mando took the kid and tracked down Cara. They shared that they were krill farmers and needed help because Klatooinian raiders had been terrorizing their settlement.

Mando located Cara quickly, and they met you at the speeder, the back of which was full of weapons. You scooted over to make space for them as the speeder stuttered to life. It was cramped and when everyone was seated, your side was pressed into Mando, the kid settled on his lap.

Mando and Cara talked quietly while you laid your head back to watch the stars. You looked down when you felt something gently press on your thigh. The kid had climbed off of Mando’s lap and was looking up expectantly at you, as if asking permission to crawl into your lap.

You smiled at him and looked up at Mando, posing a silent question.

He nodded once, and you pulled the kid onto your lap. The baby cooed happily, wiggled around to get comfortable, and closed his eyes. You rested your head back again and let the movement of the speeder lull you into a light sleep.

Before you were totally out, you felt Mando adjust beside you, leaning back and stretching an arm over your head. Instinctively, you lifted your head so he could settle his arm down behind you, and you relaxed back so your cheek rested on his cold shoulder.

In a sleepy haze, you decided to capitalize on this opening and let your hand rest on the beskar plate covering his thigh.

***

You woke up when the speeder stuttered to a stop and opened your eyes, rubbing them in the brightness of the morning. You sat up and Mando did the same beside you, moving his arm from where it had been supporting your back. He hadn’t moved all night.

The scene before you was nothing if not idyllic: green and peaceful. Wind whispered through the tall grasses that lined the village, forming a natural buffer between the settlement and the forest. Circular wooden structures, the same pointed shape as the public house, were clustered at the middle of the clearing. Villagers, catching flopping blue krill in flat baskets, waded through square ponds that encircled the small community. Children giggled and called out, running toward the speeder.

“Well, looks like they’re happy to see us,” observed Mando.

“Looks like,” agreed Cara.

The children flocked toward you to see the baby in your arms, and you hopped down to greet them.

***

You spent the morning meeting people, learning the layout of the tiny village. The children took to the kid immediately, following you wherever you carried him. Apparently, Mando had accepted the fact that the child was safe with you because he didn’t object.

The gaggle of children showed you around excitedly, even demonstrating how to expertly sift krill from the ponds. They brought you to the long hall where food—stew and spotchka—was served. You sat on the ground outside, eating and enjoying the sun, with the children and the kid. They watched in enthusiastic disgust as the child caught and ate a live frog.

That afternoon, you and Mando followed the woman who introduced herself as Omera to your lodging. Though there did not seem to be an official leader of the small community, Omera clearly garnered respect. You watched as she gave easy instruction to those around her, and they complied reflexively.

She led you to one of the wooden buildings on the edges of the settlement. You noticed the way Mando stopped in the doorway to admire Omera as she raised a window covering and the afternoon light illuminated her beautiful face.

“Please, come in,” Omera invited warmly. 

You set the baby on the ground, and he waddled a few steps before plopping down to lean against a crate, his eyelids heavy after a full morning of play.

“I hope this is comfortable for the three of you,” Omera continued. “Sorry that all we have is the barn. There is a spare crib for the child.” She gestured at a well-made looking crib. You wondered when the last time the child had slept in a proper bed was.

You picked him up from where he sat dozing on the floor and settled him into the crib.

You looked around the open space of the barn. It was clearly used for storage: it was lined with baskets, furniture, crates, fishing equipment, and more, but a large space in the center of the room was clear. You hadn’t considered until this moment that you might be sharing one room with Mando. Neither of you would be comfortable in these close quarters.

“Oh, we’re not—,” you started.

“This will do fine,” confirmed Mando, cutting you off mid-sentence. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, surprised that he seemed okay with this sleeping arrangement.

“I stacked some blankets over here,” Omera pointed to a stack of quilts in the corner.

“Thank you. That’s very kind,” replied Mando as he turned to unstrap his rifle from his back.

A little girl crept up to the open doorway, looking down at her feet with her hands clasped behind her back. You recognized her from the gaggle of children. She was one of the quieter, shyer kids.

Mando, who was facing the back of the room, whipped around defensively at her movement. His hand hovered threateningly over his blaster.

The little girl gasped and jumped back, disappearing from view. Omera turned to follow her out the door.

You stepped toward Mando and put a steadying hand on his elbow in the space between his armor, drawing his arm away from his weapon. He looked down at where your hand gripped his arm.

“Are you okay?” you asked, under your breath.

He gave you a curt nod and exhaled loudly through the modulator.

You dropped your hand to your side when Omera returned, the little girl hugged tightly to her.

“This is my daughter, Winta,” she explained in her dulcet voice. “We don’t get a lot of visitors around here. She’s not used to strangers.”

Neither is Mando.

Mando stood awkwardly and said nothing.

“It’s nice to meet you, Winta,” you greeted gently. She smiled timidly against her mother’s stomach.

“These people are going to help protect us from the bad ones,” Omera said.

“Thank you,” replied Winta quietly.

“Come on, Winta. Let’s give our guests some room.” Omera took Winta’s hand and lead her away.

As soon as the two of you and the baby were alone, you turned to Mando. “How are we both going to sleep in here? You can’t sleep in your helmet.”

Mando stood frozen, staring at the doorway. He seemed not to have registered that you said anything.

“Mando?”

He turned to you. “I—uh, it’s fine. I didn’t want to inconvenience them any more.”

“But how is this going to work?”

“I can sleep in my helmet.”

“No way, that’s ridiculous. I’ll ask if I can stay with Cara.” You took a step toward the door.

He looked down at the floor. “I’d rather you stay here.”

“Ah...okay. I thought we were past the stage where you felt the need to babysit me,” you joked, hoping that wasn’t the reason for this.

“No. That’s not...” he started to explain but trailed off.

He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, and, despite the prickle of irritation you felt at the confirmation of his mistrust, you felt compelled to fill the uneasy silence that followed.

Avoiding his gaze, you looked over to where the kid was snoozing in the crib. “It’s fine. I’m going to go out for a bit if you want to take it off now. I’ll let you know before I come back in.”

“Thank you.”

You dropped your bag onto a crate and slipped out of the room and into the soft sunlight that shone through the sparse clouds.

Unwittingly, Mando seemed to know how to give you just enough reassurance to keep you around and just enough doubt to keep you guessing about why you were here with him. He was holding you at arm’s length, but not letting you go.

The potential between you was as enticing as it was confusing.

The more time you spent with Mando, the more of a paradox he seemed to be. He was constantly torn between a need to be hard and his instinct to be soft. You had an inkling that at heart, he was soft through and through. How else could you explain the presence of the baby?

His literal and metaphorical armor were clearly worn out of necessity—for several reasons, you guessed: to be successful in a brutal profession, probably as a result of past trauma, and simply because life is just fucking hard. You barely knew him, but you couldn’t help but want to be someone with whom he felt comfortable letting his guard down.

You pushed these thoughts from your mind as you stepped into the dappled light that filtered through the canopy of the forest. You were happy to explore the woods on your own, enjoying the serene atmosphere and natural beauty. It had been a while since you’d been on such a lovely planet. It reminded you of home.

***

When you returned a few hours later, all the villagers were gathering around the barn where Mando and Cara stood on the porch. You walked up to join the crowd and Mando’s visor followed your movement. You smiled at him, and he looked away abruptly, turning to Cara. They exchanged a few words then Mando stepped forward to address everyone.

“Bad news. You can’t live here anymore,” Mando announced. He declared this in an infuriatingly neutral, straightforward way, the same way you’d tell someone there was going to be rain.

They must have seen the same tracks in the forest that I saw.

The villagers broke out in surprised chatter: “What?” “Why?”

Cara and Mando muttered to each other. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you hoped Cara was explaining how callous he’d sounded.

Cara started forward, “I know this isn’t the news you wanted to hear, but there are no other options.”

Despite her slightly better manner, the villagers broke out in angry protests again.

“You took the job!” Caben cried.

“That was before we knew about the AT-ST!” exclaimed Cara.

Your stomach dropped. You had hoped you were somehow wrong about what those tracks belonged to. It would take serious preparation to successfully take on a band of raiders and an Imperial walker.

“What is that?” asked Caben.

“The armored walker with two enormous guns that you knew about and didn’t mention,” said Cara indignantly.

That is a pretty important piece of information they had chosen to leave out.

More protests erupted. The villagers shouted pleas over one another. Mando was surveying the desperate villagers, saying nothing. You had a feeling that despite his initial refusal and these adverse circumstances, he would elect to help them anyways. Eventually one of the many heartfelt appeals was likely to sway him—listening to their pleading voices, you knew you would find it hard to refuse them.

Omera’s plaintive voice broke over the crowd, and you suspected she’d be the one to convince him.

“We have nowhere to go,” she entreated.

Mando met your gaze, where you stood silently at the back of the crowd. He cocked his head, and you knew what he was asking. You gave him an understanding smile, nodding your agreement. He bowed his head slightly in response.

You turned and walked away, not needing to hear the rest of the conversation to know that Mando had already decided to stay.

***

Chapter 4

[scrcndipix]

red dawn. 01 | jeon jungkook.

The fall of the Baegyum Dynasty was imminent. Sangyu and his Insurgents from the Clans of the Mountains, known enemies of the royal family, have attacked the Sacred City of Ilsan, once the capital of an empire, now was reduced to ashes. And you have only one mission: to protect with your life the princess and heir to a broken realm. In your way to the neighboring kingdom in search of protection, you find yourselves in Yerin Woodland, territory of werewolves —ancient enemies of the Baegyum Dynasty who would gladly kill an Ilsan priestess like you.

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jeon jungkook x female reader.

wordcount: 3.9k.

contents/warnings: hobi is not that sunshine, bossy namjoon bcs i wAnT iT. lots of swearing, mentions of death, blood, major injuries (explicit, i guess lmao). some korean words (written in italics).

a/n: this is my very first bts fic ever and honestly at this point i don’t even know what i’m doing lmao. english isn’t my first language btw (spaniard human being over here), so if you see any mistakes please let me know!! thank you for coming to my ted talk and i hope you enjoy this mess.

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next.

You could still hear the screams of pain echoing in your head, as if they were coming from your own mind.

As if you had caused them.

Tears blurred your vision, already clouded by the thick snowflakes swirling around you in the blizzard. The relentless gusts of wind, so cold they cut like blades, kept throwing you off balance over and over again. But you didn’t stop.

Beneath the layers of fur shielding you, not nearly enough, anyway, your body was drenched in a cold, sticky sweat. You pulled at the hand of the little girl stumbling beside you when you felt her collapse to her knees.

The snow buried her up to her thighs, and in her exhausted face, you could make out an absent expression—the kind worn by those who have yet to grasp what is happening around them.

“Stand up princess, we have to go on.” You mumbled, bending down to help her.

Your voice was hoarse. Perhaps because of how much you had screamed when you saw your whole world reduced to ashes in a few moments. Ilsan, the Imperial Jewel, the Eternal City, was nothing more than a smoldering pile of dust by that moment.

“Eonnie, where are we going? Why are we running away? I want to see mom, it's cold, and-

“Come on, we are running out of time.” You interrupted her, when you felt the tears fill your eyelids again. 

Without saying a word, you tugged on her hand and started to walk again. She didn't understand, how could she? You felt guilty, but you also didn't want to explain exactly what you were doing meant. What it meant to be an exile, a fugitive, or why you were escaping from your kingdom to seek protection from Ghaleen, the neighboring one. 

You didn't want to say out loud what your mind was still trying to process. You didn’t have a home anymore, and all who had been your family and friends were dead. You only had each other.

The day was bleeding into nightfall and you had no idea where you were going to spend that night. You weren't lucky enough to find an abandoned cabin at a bend in the road like the day before, so you'd have to improvise, and probably stay awake to stand guard all night. You didn't care though, you just wanted to sit down and rest. 

You had decided to abandon the roads and guide the princess to the border cross-country. Your pursuers would have a harder time finding you that way. You hadn't seen anyone chasing you in the two days you've been on running away, but you knew that Sangyu wouldn't let you escape the kingdom alive if he could help it.

And so your steps that advanced inexorably towards the south took you to the borders of Yerin Woodland. You didn't realize until you took a look around you, and you instantly cursed yourself. That was a very dangerous place, almost as dangerous as Ilsan at the moment. And it was an obstacle that stood between you and the border, between you and your only chance to live.

A detour would take too long, and you had neither food nor water. Both of you were starving for two days. You definitely couldn’t reach the neighboring kingdom in time if you did’t cross the forest. It was an almost suicidal act, but you had no choice, you were going to die anyway. 

You stood still, in front of the first line of trees, holding tightly the trembling hand of the princess, for a while, evaluating the options, trying to prolong your last hours of life as much as you could. You were almost certain that you wouldn’t live to see the next sunrise. 

You had to try. You had to do whatever it took to survive, you had promised the queen before leaving Ilsan. Hana, the princess, had to live.

"Let's go."

The girl had not opened her mouth since you had refused to answer her question, hours ago. She perhaps was beginning to realize what had happened in Ilsan. You sighed, letting out a breath that rose towards the full moon. Your footsteps crunched the snow as you entered the forest at a steady beat. Soon the snow would bury your legs, but that didn't slow you down. You were totally focused on your surroundings, trying to identify all the sounds that occasionally echoed through the trees —the hooting of an owl, a pile of snow falling from a branch, hissing gusts of icy wind, your own footsteps...

And then you realized. Your blood ran cold instantly and your heart skipped a beat. You heard more footsteps than you should, and they were faster than yours. When you looked back, you wished you never had. A group of men were behind you, chasing you, closer than you thought. They carried torches and were armed. They were running, and they would reach you in less than a minute. An arrow whistled through the air and struck somewhere near your feet.

That was what made you react.

“Run, Hana! Don't stop running!” You yelled, feeling a painful lump burn in your throat.

With your right hand you held hers, as tight as you could, while you both struggled to make your way through the thick snow that covered you up to your knees. With the other hand, you searched through the furs you were wrapped in until you found the medallion that bounced on your chest with every miserable step you took.

The metal was hot, so hot it burned your skin. Just by touching it, you could see it. You could feel it —strands of light interwoven around you, binding everything in sight like a spider web. And yet you couldn't reach them.

Your power was running out of you, as was your strength.

Terrified, you felt the air barely reaching your lungs. You were exhausted, but you had to keep running. You turned your head over your shoulder, still struggling to advance. Not far from you, among the trees, you could make out the shining torches of your pursuers, lighting up faces constricted in grimaces of anger and hatred.

No, you couldn't stop running. There would be no mercy for you if they caught you, nor would it be for Hana. They were going to kill you.

The swish of an arrow streaking through the air in your direction awakened your reflexes and you pushed Hana to the ground. The arrow flew over your heads and stuck in the trunk of a tree just a few steps ahead of you. Hana whinned in pain and put her hands on her right ankle, as some tears began to spill over her lids.

“Eonnie!” The princess screamed, terrified as she pointed behind you. “They are coming! I can't run! I can't-”

You let out a strangled pant and mustered the strength you had left to stand up and lift the girl with you, struggling to put her over your shoulder.

“Don't look, princess, don't look at them!” You ordered, as you started running again with a grunt.

A second swish. Your hand went instinctively back to the medallion, praying for the light strands to be within your reach. You sensed the arrow, that was hazardously approaching from behind. But you couldn't turn around in time. Hana screamed. You felt a lash of dull pain on the back of you thigh. The tip of the arrow breaking through your skin tore a scream from you that ripped your throat. You fell to the ground, dragging the princess with you. She rolled a few feet further and raised her head to see what had happened.

When you took a look at your leg, you could see the tip of the arrow which had been shot from behind poking through the fabric of your clothes. The arrow had pierced you cleanly. And it hurt like hell. The entire limb burned as if it was on fire. The snow you had fallen on was turning red. The smell of blood awakened the most primitive instincts of two creatures that, not far from there, were patrolling the borders of their territory. It was also your screams and Hana's which lured them to the scene of the tragedy.

You tried to move, crawling back with your bare hands over the snow. You tried to reach Hana, who had froze watching the crimson stream of blood gushing out of the wound on your leg and staining the snow. But the timing didn't work out. Your pursuers —eight Insurgent soldiers sworn to Sangyu, caught you before you could get to the princess, two of them aiming their crossbows directly at your head. Two others instead headed for Hana. The remaining four had not arrived. Not yet.

The terrified whine the princess let out when those men cornered her against a tree was what awakened your instincts again. For the third time, you enclosed the medallion that hung around your neck with your trembling fingers.

The Insurgents who were targeting you yelled at you to stop when they saw your move, but by the time they wanted to shoot you, it was too late. Fear and rage gave you the last pulse of energy you could muster, and you managed to reach the strands —which only you, as the owner of the Cornerstone, could see and feel— that linked your medallion to the bodies of the warriors. You pulled that strands hard, closing your eyes.

The next instant, they were all falling to the ground, dead. Your power had struck them down in the blink of an eye, scoring deep transverse cuts in their torsos and decapitating them in the process.

In moments like that, you could understand why everyone feared you.

The scene was a chaos of limbs and guts. You turned your head towards Hana, who was still in shock, stained with the blood of the men you had just killed. You tried to speak and calm her down, but the four men still chasing you made their appearance in the clearing, their eyes even more fiery with anger as they saw the corpses of their fellows.

“Damn bitch!” One of them roared, as he advanced towards you.

He wasn't carrying a crossbow but a huge, heavy ax, sharpened exclusively for you. Sangyu longed to have your pretty little heads nailed to two pikes at the gates of Ilsan. You clung again the jewel, but you didn't see any light strands to pull. You had used up all the energy you had left. You gasped, covering your head with your arms as you saw him raise the ax to kill you once and for all. A shaky voice tried to interrupt, it was one of the Insurgents, who raised one hand to stop him.

“Comander! Don't-

But the coup of grace never came. Instead, something that sounded like the most terrifying growl you've ever heard in your short and miserable life made open your eyes. You didn't know if you were relieved to be alive or afraid of having to face whatever it was.

Rather the second, let's be honest.

Your eyes went from side to side trying to process the scene. They were two creatures, not one, two. They were large and in the darkness of the night—barely lit by the torches of the insurgents—you could only make out two pairs of ice-blue eyes, which made you shiver from you tiptoes.

It was, in fact, thanks to the torches you could tell that those two creatures were attacking Sangyu's soldiers, reducing them to a pile of flesh and bones in a matter of seconds, leaving no time for their comrades to react.

And, yes, you could also tell that those creatures were nothing more than two fucking werewolves from Yerin Woodland. In front of you. Killing four grown ass men as if they were shaking the water off their fur.

To say that you would like to face those men a hundred times better than those monsters would be an understatement.

You stood still, barely breathing, just like Hana. With the absurd hope that, that way, perhaps, they would not notice your presence. You couldn't run away with your leg like that, and even if you were able to, you couldn't just leave the princess behind.

Once they finished off the four soldiers, they turned to you. The torches extinguished when they fell in the snow, but the powerful light of the almost full moon was enough to allow you to make out the outlines of their silhouettes and faces. Dark, thick blood dripped from their open jaws. They showed you their oh so sharp teeth as they growled deep in their throats. You held your breath and tried to move back a little, to reach Hana.

The wolf on the right, who appeared to be larger, and with mahogany-colored hair, bristled as it saw you move. You stopped right away, freezing in place. By that time, you were coated with your own blood mixed with your pursuers'. Your wound kept bleeding copiously. The two beasts approached slowly, without lowering their guard, in attack position, their ears pressed back to their heads. The other one, the smaller one, was white, with some gray spots staining its nose and chest.

The eyes were identical to its partner's —a deep, mesmerizing ice blue. They were as terrifying as breathtakingly beautiful.

Suddenly, they were so close to you that you could touch the tip of their noses if you reached out a hand. You were still holding your breath, and your lungs were starting to burn. Your heart beat furiously against your ribs. You were completely sure they could hear it. The red-haired wolf lowered its head without taking its eyes off yours, and sniffed the wound on your thigh for a few seconds.

The lick came without expecting it. Its tongue, kinda rough and yet warm against the skin around the wound, gave you a start. And you weren't the only one startled. The white wolf flinched when you jumped in place, growling at you a little louder. A warning.

No sudden movements. Ok. Got it.

The medallion slipped from the folds of furs that protected you from the cold, and the silver-encrusted crystal sparkled in the moonlight. The creatures watched it, as if their eyes had been hopelessly drawn to it. Their pupils turned into two barely visible slits, and what were gentle licks on your wound turned into a jaw closing around your ankle and pulling you. The growls of the wolves grew louder and louder. The redhaired one dragged you into the center of the clearing where the massacre had taken place. Hana screamed, terrified, as she tried to reach you. The white wolf barked at her. She froze in place, tears streaming down her bruised cheeks and her mouth open, letting out a silent scream.

The one which was dragging you, hovered over you, pinning your arms to the ground with its front legs. The shaft of the arrow snapped when your leg fell flat on the ground, causing a deep groan of pain to escape your lips. Its gaping, bloody mouth full of sharp teeth hovered over your throat. You scrambled, screaming, calling for help.

Fuck that «no sudden movements.»

You turned your head to the side, burying your left profile in the snow, still screaming, trying to get as far away from the wolf's jaws as possible, but you could already feel the canines on the delicate skin of your neck. 

Was that how you were going to die?

“Hoseok, stop.”

The order was clear and direct, spoken by an authoritative voice, the kind that leaves you no choice but to obey. And still, the person who spoke did not raise their tone at any time.

The wolf above you growled in disgust, as if it was trying to resist the stranger's words. But it could not. The wolf withdrew, leaving your arms free. You stayed still for a second, fearing that if you moved again, it would be the last time you did.

A male figure crouched beside you, his eyes traveling directly to the arrow stuck in your leg. His digits fingered the edges of the wound carefully, earning a pained hiss from you. The adrenaline had isolated the pain for a few moments, but you were already beginning to be aware of your injury again.

A fucking arrow piercing your leg.

Your eyes, unfocused by pain, managed to evoke the features of the stranger who at that moment was looking at you with a mixture of curiosity, concern and mistrust. A nasty crunch of bones—as if someone were literally stepping on a corpse—made you turn your head. The red-haired wolf had grown into a shirtless grown man, with an athletic build, sharp jaw, and teardrop-shaped eyes. He had soft orange hair, totally disheveled.

You almost hated yourself for finding him fucking attractive.

“She's one of them, Jungkook. One of those witches from the Sacred City.” Hoseok spat venomously, pointing to the medallion that shone on your trembling chest.

The one who was next to you, Jungkook, watched him silently as he spoke, and then followed his partner's finger with his gaze until he found the jewel. When he found it, his eyes, until then serene, emitted a sinister reddish glow that made you shudder. His serious, analytical expression hardened as he reached out for the medallion. You instinctively pushed his hand away with a sharp blow from yours. The slap echoed across the clearing. An eyebrow rose on his face as he looked you straight in the eye. You flinched, again, instinctively.

He waited a few seconds. You weren't going to look away. Both of you stayed like that, measuring each other with your eyes. Finally, he turned to where the white wolf used to be and where now was standing another man, shorter and skinnier than his companions, pale to death, but beautiful. With platinum hair and cat-like eyes, he had his gaze on Hana, but he was keeping an eye on what was happening around him.

“Yoongi, please, take the child to the village. Tell Seokjin to check if she's hurt,” Jungkook said, his calm voice was still commanding. “And tell Namjoon what's happening. The night's getting complicated.”

The latter statement was said by looking at you again, as if you were the greatest inconvenience he has ever had to face.

“What happened this time?” Asked a fourth person, appearing among the trees like someone entering the living room of their house.

“Yah! Namjoon. Thank the Moon you are here.” Hoseok sighed in relief.

He was the tallest man you had ever seen in your life. Also one of the most handsome. Why are all the lycanthropes you meet so fucking handsome? He had tanned skin and bright blond hair, halfway between long and short, slicked back slightly. His slanted eyes analyzed the scene calmly, as he walked towards you, crunching the snow under his boots. But you didn't care, you could only focus on how Yoongi was approaching Hana, who was still as petrified as before, to pick her up and take her with him.

Over your fucking dead body.

“Leave her alone!” you yelled, trying to move towards them, sending the pain that shook your leg to the deepest corner of your mind. “Don't fucking touch her! Don't you dare touch her, beast!”

“Yah. Calm down,” Jungkook ordered, grabbing your shoulders to keep you in place. “At this rate you will only bleed out faster. Stay still.”

He forced you to lie back in the snow, despite your complaints and your attempts to get out of his grip. Hoseok grunted impatiently and crouched down beside you to pin your wrists to the ground.

Yoongi did not seem upset by your insults, because he put Hana over his shoulder as you had done while you were trying to escape and began to walk, passing the newcomer, who took a quick look at the princess and gave Yoongi a nod before let him go out of your sight.

“Where is he going? What are you going to do to her?” You asked then, in a panic, squirming under Hoseok's hands. “Don't take her away! Don't hurt her! If I find out that you-

“Easy there, sweetheart,” said the stranger, coming up to you. “No one will hurt the girl, I promise. But, you...”

You swallowed as soon as that last statement left his lips, and you forced yourself to be quiet, although you didn't take Namjoon at his word at all. You couldn't do anything else if you wanted to gain some time to think about what to do. He crouched next to Jungkook on your left. Hoseok on your right.

“Hyung, how did you know that-

“The screams could be heard from the village. It was impossible not to find out about this fucking mess,” He mumbled, with a bitter tone, as he scanned you from head to toe with a serious look. “The others were about to come see what happened, although I forbade it as soon as Taehyung tried to cross the edge of the forest without permission.”

Then he went on to check out the macabre scene around you.

“Those four weren’t killed by you guys,” Namjoon pointed out, looking at the corpses of the soldiers you had murdered. He looked at you again. “Was it you, witch?”

You swallowed, but didn't respond. You couldn't have done it even if you wanted to —your mind felt increasingly light, dispersed, like butter spread on too much bread. You were bleeding to death, although they seemed to have forgotten that little detail. Namjoon stared at your medallion, just as his comrades had done before him. His blank expression darkened.

“Hoseok and Yoongi arrived before me,” Jungkook pointed out, slowly shaking his head in a thoughtful gesture, looking directly at the aforementioned.

“We weren't here in time to see it. Those four were already dead when we arrived, and one of the others was going to kill her when we intervened,” Hoseok explained, pointing with his chin at the mass of bones the man with the ax had become. His gaze came back to you, and he stared at your frame as if you were a mosquito stuck in the sole of his shoe. “I wish I had known who this witch was, I'd have let her die before killing the others.”

Namjoon and Jungkook sighed simultaneously, probably agreeing with him. Jungkook nodded and looked at you, as well as Namjoon. Their gestures and expressions were so similar that for a moment you thought you were seeing double.

“They are not imperial soldiers. Who are they, huh? Why were they going to kill you?” Jungkook asked you bluntly. “Why were you and that girl running away?”

“...please, I-” you moaned painfully, noticing their presences farther and farther away; their voices muddled.

Your eyes closed against your will. You didn't want to, you were in danger, you were terrified that you couldn't see what those strangers could do to you. You shoke in the snow, groaning in pain because of your leg. You started to shiver uncontrollably, for both cold and fear.

“No, sweetheart. Don't you dare to leave us now. Open your fucking eyes. I want to know what the hell has led the damn High Priestess of Ilsan to leave the fucking city where she has been hiding for years to enter our territory and make this mess.” Namjoon's voice had lost all traces of calm, and he was furious, you could feel it.

A hand cupped your cheek and shook your head a little to make you react, but you couldn't feel anything, anymore.

Just darkness.

[ace-does-stuff]

Corrupted

"Sam, this, this isn't you." I stammered out as I looked at Sam in slight fear, Jazz and Tucker at my sides.

Sam had been corrupted, splotches of her skin having faded to a light green, accents of bright reds here and there. Cuffs of spiked vines attached to her wrists and ankles that kept her linked to the ground, writhing occasionally.

"Really Danny? Look at you, join me and my friends," Sam said, raising her hand and calling upon a set of three kids that burst from the ground, one of them Kwan, all plant like zombies of their past selves. "Become, stronger, and better like them."

"Sam, please listen to me." I said, more forcefully than before, her eye twitched a bit as she flicked her wrist back down, her small army melding into the ground again.

"Fine, you have five minutes to convince me to not make this school my army." Sam claimed as she lowered her arms to her sides and shook herself down, a cloud of pollen floating off of her into my face, I coughed a bit at the bitter particles.

I felt a sting run down my trachea as I inhaled some of the pollen, numbness taking place.

"Look, Sam, this isn't you, your not an ectoplasm powered plant nymph, your not meant to be this," I tried to explain, having a hard time forming a counter argument, desperately, numbness slowly spreading across my nerves. "You were my friend, you were our friend, our closest friend, at my side through everything.

"Even before all this ghost stuff started.

"Before Vlad revealed his powers and cloned me.

"Even when I got my powers, hell you were the one that convinced me to step into that stupid fucking portal and get stuck between life and death!" I snapped, the numb of the pollen doing nothing to quell the bubbling emotions in my ice cold core.

I don't even know what was brewing, but I felt chilled breezes fly past me, the wind gaining intensity and bring bits of powdery flakes of snow and icy chunks of hail that slowly grew in size. I heard footsteps, Tucker and Jazz fleeing as I brought down bone chilling breezes and swirls of snow and near golf ball sized hail.

Sam stared in shock at me as she backed away a bit, the blizzard I was bringing down intensifying, the snow on the ground sticking to the grass creating a thin sheet on the ground below us.

I'm still human, guess some of what Vortex gave me stuck, just needed the emotions to be more intense.

Lucky me.

I shot out my hand as Sam leapt into the air, vines keeping her steady in the air, I tilted my hand upwards, a stream of snow and wind knocking her from her balance causing her to fall to the ground, I could hear something snap, I cringed a bit at the sound. I walked over to her as she flicked her hand, raising her henchmen, the ice spreading from below my feet and coating the ground preventing the three from raising.

"Get rid of your ice, so I can have a trying chance." Sam growled as she backed away, shooting a stream of spiked vines at me, I deflected the attack with a flick of my hand, a look of shock washed over her face.

"No, I don't think I will." I said, a smirk playing at my lips as I slowly stepped over, going ghost as I did so, Sam grabbing a handful of the vines that clung to her and throwing out at me like a grappling. The vines wrapped around my torso through the blizzard I had spawned in, I struggled against the vines as I kicked off a small golf ball of hail that quickly gained size as the hail rolled across the ground towards Sam who leapt out of the way.

"Stop fighting back! I was told this would be easy!" Sam shouted at me before flicking both wrists in the air, the vines around my torso dropping down to the snowy ground below me as she held her head, slowly lowering to the ground from her position in the air.

I inched over, emotions down to a light simmer as Sam reached the ground, falling to her knees, she released a strangled scream once I got close enough, the plant restraints tightening, thorns gaining size as they dug into her skin, blood trickling down her arms. I reverted back to human form and looked at her from a slight distance, the green splotches seemingly fluctuating between gaining size and loosing size as she struggled.

The vines, that's the problem.

I summoned a small blade of ectoplasm, and leapt at her, the vines and Sams form lurching away from me as I went to try and slice off one of the vines. They had a mind of their own, I growled a bit as I lunged again, slicing the vine on her right ankle off, the part that was attached to her ankle shrivelling up and dying, the patches of green reverting to her normal skin.

She hissed at the sudden reversion, and froze up giving me a chance to slice off at least one more of them, I lunged once more with a second ectoplasmic blade, with some twisted luck lopping off the vines on her right ankle and wrist. Sam fell unconscious as the last vine dragged her further from my range, the vine lifted her into the air before going to slither past her loose lips. I leapt up, going ghost as I did so before yanking at the vine and sliding down, my hands being shredded against the thorns, ectoplasmic knife being retracted.

"Maybe this will work...?" I said weakly as I pulled out an ectoplasmic knife again and hacked against the writhing vines until they snapped, I fell back as the vines dropped down to the ground. I stumbled with a roll before dashing over to where Sam was falling, just barely catching her, hearing another snap.

Oh man... That does not sound good at all.

Is, is she gonna wake up?

Is she gonna get hypothermia from the cold?

I have fucked up...

[marjansmarwani]

fading under dying light

3.9k || ao3

After a rough shift TK comes home to an empty condo and decides to go for a run to clear his head, to avoid being alone with his thoughts. But when he runs into trouble on his run it’s Carlos who comes home to find him, to save him. He just hopes he was fast enough, that he wasn’t too late to save the person that matters most. ------ Day 7 of Angst Week: Free Choice + “grabbed by the hair” for @badthingshappenbingo

--------

He hadn’t been able to save them.

Two brothers, 16 and 19, trapped in a car that had gone off an embankment and he hadn’t been able to save them. It didn’t matter that he had been able to go down to the vehicle without a problem, it didn’t matter that he and the fire crew had done everything they could. In the end, they were still gone. Two young lives ended far before their time; two fearful gazes that had held his own until the very end. He had seen the moment it had ended, he had been there still fighting against fate when their time ran out. He had been there for the moment that would shape a family’s new reality and he couldn’t get it out of his head. 

So, when he had arrived home to an empty condo and Carlos still had another 2 hours left in his shift, he had decided to go for a run. It was better than sitting alone with his thoughts — anything was better than that. 

So he found himself in the nearby park; the sound of his feet pounding against the pavement echoing through the cool night air was almost enough to drown out his thoughts. It was late and the park was nearly empty, which suited TK just fine. Being around people right now seemed unbearable. His crew - both fire and medical - had extended invitations, had offered to stay with him; to prevent him from being alone.  But being alone is what he needed right now. He needed this time to process, to sort through the thoughts swirling through his head. 

He had done everything he possibly could have to save those boys, he knew that. He knew that he wasn’t at fault, that he was in no way to blame for what had happened. No one was. It had been an accident; a tragic, awful accident. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe it wasn’t so much that he hadn’t been able to save them as it was the grief and guilt in the older brother’s eyes as he told TK in a low voice that it was all his fault. That he had taken his eyes off the road for one second, and that single second had made all the difference. Maybe it was that though TK had tried to reassure him that mistakes happened and that it didn’t make him a bad person he was almost certain that the older boy — Danny — hadn’t believed him. That he had died thinking that it was his fault, that he had killed his brother. 

Maybe it was the fact that TK had made so many mistakes of his own — mistakes far, far worse than looking away from the road — but he was still here and Danny and Ryan weren’t anymore. He had been given so many chances and they hadn’t even gotten one, and he couldn’t reconcile that idea in his mind.  

He had been trying since it happened. He had even said as much to Paul and Marjan when they had checked in on him, when they had caught him in a vulnerable moment. But no amount of logic or reassurance could make this better, nothing could make it make sense. That wouldn’t stop him from trying, though. 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not see the skateboard in his way until it was too late. His foot caught the edge of it and sent him crashing to the ground where he lay as pain blossomed from throughout his body. He groaned and was about to push himself up to assess the damage when he heard footsteps. He froze for a moment, trying to get a sense of how many there were when a fresh pain ripped through him as a hand reached into his hair and hauled him up. He hissed in pain as the hand tightened in his hair, pulling him up to his knees so he could see the figures surrounding him. 

There were three of them and, as best TK could tell through his watering eyes, they looked young. No older than Danny. 

“Hand over your wallet and no one needs to get hurt,” the one in front of him instructed and TK shook his head. 

“I don’t have it on me,” he explained, “I don’t carry it when I run.” 

 “Why don’t I believe you?” the figure asked and TK shrugged the best he could. 

“I don’t know, but it’s the truth.” 

“Maybe we should just check to see,” the figure said to the companion standing beside him he nodded and lunged forward and TK felt a blinding flash of white-hot pain. 

“I don’t have anything,” he gasped again, “all I have is my phone and airpods. You can take them, but that’s all I have.” 

There were hands on him then and though TK tried to follow the movements it was hard when his head was a cloud of pain. It seemed like an eternity before a new voice spoke. 

“It looks like he’s telling the truth, all I’ve got is his phone and airpods, like he said.” 

The first figure shrugged and looked down at TK, “Then I guess that’s what we take. Let him go and let’s get out of here.” 

The hand gripping his hair disappeared and TK sagged forward without it to hold him upright. He crumpled to the ground, instinctively curling in on himself to protect his wound and prevent any further pain. But the sound of retreating footsteps told him that there was no need, the danger was gone and he was on his own. He pulled himself off the ground and looked down, trying to locate the source of the white-hot pain burning through his abdomen. 

He located a red spot, steadily consuming the gray of his shirt. He pulled up his shirt, hissing in pain as the material clung to his skin, to get a better look at the wound. It was a puncture wound, likely from some sort of blade, but it didn’t look too deep. He was only a few blocks from the condo, he could make it home and get a better look at it. Besides, they had taken his phone. He had no way to call for help. He was on his own. 

He pulled himself off of the ground gingerly, swaying for a moment on his feet before he found his balance. He took a deep breath and headed in the direction of his home, keeping a hand carefully pressed against the wound all the while. It wasn’t a far walk but he was moving more slowly than usual and though he had no way of knowing how long it had been, he was certain it was longer than the usual 8 minutes it took to walk to the park. 

He let himself in; thankful they hadn’t thought to take his keys, at least, before heading up the stairs towards the bathroom. He had to pause in the middle, gripping the railing tightly as a wave of dizziness washed over him, nearly toppling him on the stairs. He waited for it to pass before pulling himself up the last few stairs and entering the bathroom. He flipped on the light and was taken aback by the sight of his own reflection in the mirror.  

He was far paler than he should be and the bloodstain had grown to show beyond the hand covering the wound. He lifted his hand to see that the blood was now dripping at an alarming rate. Maybe it was deeper than he thought after all. 

He stepped closer to the counter, reaching for the medicine cabinet. If he could at least get it bandaged, if he could put some better pressure on it he should be able to buy himself some more time. He just needed enough time to figure out how to call for help without his phone. Or for Carlos to get home. TK had no idea how long had passed since he had set out for his run but he was sure that it had been nearly two hours; Carlos should be home soon. It would be okay. He just needed to handle it until then. 

He managed to pry open the medicine cabinet and fumble through it, hand landing on the first aid kit they stored there. He tried to tighten his grip on it, to pull it out, but his body wasn’t responding to him. Hypovolemic shock his mind provided, far too late to do anything about it. He had lost too much blood; his body was starting to shut down to preserve itself. He tried to grab the first aid kit again, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. There was nothing in there that could help him now. 

He got one last look at his reflection in the mirror — skin pale and face shining with sweat despite the fact that he could feel shivers racing through his body — before darkness began to encroach on his vision. He tried to tighten his grip on the wound, to put as much pressure on it as possible but he knew it was a lost cause. 

He had one fleeting thought as the darkness took over and he could feel himself sinking to the ground: though he hated the thought of Carlos having to find him like this he hoped desperately that he came home soon. 

He hoped that he got here before it was too late. 

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

Carlos sighed wearily as he stepped up to his front door, pulling out his keys as he reached the threshold. It was late and his shift had been long, he was just happy to have gotten out on time. For a while, it seemed like it would never end. 

But it had and now he was home and all he wanted to do was convince TK to order some takeout and curl up on the couch with his boyfriend and possibly fall asleep in his arms. He didn’t think that was too much to ask. 

He barely looked around as he stepped inside, calling out to TK as he shut the door behind him, “Hey babe! I’m thinking takeout tonight, unless you had other plans.” 

There was no response and Carlos frowned as he pulled off his shoes. He glanced at the table beside the door to see that TK’s keys were there. 

“TK?” he tried again. “You here?” 

He didn’t get a response but a glance up the stairs showed him that the bathroom lights were on. Carlos grinned and headed in that direction only to freeze when his foot made contact with something wet and sticky. He looked down and felt his heart jump into his throat. 

It was blood, and there was a trail of it leading all the way up the stairs. Carlos stood and stared for a moment, rooted to the spot by horror before his mind caught up and put all the pieces together: TK was hurt. 

Carlos raced up the stairs the moment the shock faded; heart thudding in his chest. He barely took a moment to dwell on the growing horror at the sight of a larger puddle almost at the top. It was too much blood. Whatever had happened it was bad and he needed to find TK now. 

He reached the bathroom a moment later and careened through the open doorway only to freeze at the sight that met him: TK, sprawled on the ground in a small pool of blood. He wasn’t moving. 

Carlos crashed to his knees beside his still form, reaching out a shaking hand to feel for his pulse. For several moments he felt nothing and Carlos couldn’t breathe, the weight of dread and despair pressing on him from every angle. Then, by some miracle, he felt it. A slight beat under his fingers. It was weak and slow but it was there and in that moment it was the best thing Carlos had ever felt. 

He blinked to clear his eyes of the tears that had gathered as he reached into his pocket for his phone, dialing before tossing it next to him on speaker. He leaned forward to examine TK as the call connected and the familiar cadence of dispatch answered: 911, what is your emergency?

Carlos swallowed before speaking: “I just came home to find my boyfriend unconscious and bleeding. I think he’s been stabbed.” 

Because know that he was looking he saw it: a wound at the center of all the blood. It was angry and red and nothing he had ever wanted to see on the body of the man he loved but a sight he was all too familiar with nonetheless. He answered the rest of the questions on autopilot, providing his name and address and other relevant details but the majority of his focus was on TK. He had been next to him, touching him and moving him and he hadn’t stirred. Carlos was no medic but even he was well aware that was a bad sign. 

He desperately wanted to know what had happened. TK had sent him a text two hours ago to tell him he had made it home. He had been fine, but now he was bleeding in their bathroom wearing his running clothes and Carlos had no idea why. The only thing he knew for sure was that he needed TK to wake up. Nothing else mattered. 

Soon there was commotion as a paramedic team showed up as well as some uniformed officers. Carlos told his colleagues what he knew, answered all the questions the best he could but his eyes never left TK. Through all the prodding and commotion he hadn’t stirred once and that more than anything else reignited the cold fear in Carlos’s chest. 

The paramedics worked quickly and efficiently and in no time they had him on a gurney, ready to head to the hospital. Carlos stepped away from the officer he had been speaking to without a word, silently following them down the stairs and to the ambulance. He paused at the door, eyes seeking the paramedic Captain who met his eyes and nodded, gesturing for him to climb in. 

He did without a second thought and watched with a heavy heart as they continued to work on TK, giving him fluids and starting a transfusion. 

“Is he going to be okay?” he asked quietly, desperately. His voice was thick and when the other paramedic — Megan from the 132, Carlos had worked with her on several scenes — looked up at him, her gaze was grim. 

“He’s going to give it the best he has,” she said eventually, “and from what I hear he’s pretty stubborn, but I’m sure you know that.”

Carlos nodded. TK was stubborn, more so than anyone else he had ever met. But there had also been so much blood on the stairs and the floor and god knows where else and he knew what that meant. He knew how precarious this situation was, he knew exactly how much danger TK was in. 

He closed his eyes as they raced towards the hospital, squeezing TK’s hand that he had been holding since he had entered the ambulance. Megan was right, TK was stubborn, but so was he. And if anyone thought that they were taking TK away from him, they’d have to go through him first. 

He wasn’t about to let him go without a fight. 

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

When TK woke up, he wasn’t fully sure he was awake. 

Actually, when he wakes up, he’s not too sure of anything. 

He opened his eyes to see the dim light of dawn peeking through the window. Soft pinks and oranges paint the room and distantly TK wonders how he forgot to shut the curtains. He always made sure to shut the curtains after Carlos has a late shift. His boyfriend is naturally an early riser but blocking out the morning sun helped to make sure that he got an adequate amount of sleep after a late shift. TK went to roll over to make sure Carlos was still sleeping when he realized that he wasn’t in their bed. 

From there the pieces fell into place and the realization dawned on him: he was in the hospital. He frowned to himself trying to remember how and why. He didn’t think he had gotten hurt on shift and he was pretty sure it hadn’t been one of his usual kitchen accidents but he couldn’t figure out what it was, his mind was too hazy. 

He looked around the room and smiled fondly as he saw Carlos, asleep in the chair next to his bed, his head rested on folded arms next to his hip. He reached out a gentle hand to brush a curl off of his forehead, nearly jumping himself when his light touch caused Carlos to sit bolt upright, eyes frantically looking around the room. They seemed unfocused when they found TK looking at him, for a moment. Then he blinked and they cleared as relief flooded his expression. “TK,” he breathed, reaching out to place a hand on his cheek. 

TK leaned into the warmth of the touch and smiled at him until he saw the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. 

“Carlos?” he asked, voice weaker than he expected, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Carlos repeated incredulously, “what’s wrong? TK, you almost died. I almost lost you.” 

“What?” he asked, his heart rate picking up at the distress in Carlos’s voice, “What do you mean? What happened?” 

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Carlos said more softly. “I came home and found you passed out and bleeding in the bathroom. You had been stabbed, and it was pretty deep.TK, what happened?” 

His voice was desperate and TK frowned as he thought. His mind was still fuzzy, but bits and pieces were starting to come back to fill in the blanks left by Carlos’s words. 

“We had a rough call during my shift,” he remembered, feeling the pang of guilt and grief hit him all over again, “and I didn’t want to dwell on it so I went for a run. I was running in the park and I think a group of kids robbed me. They were just kids, Carlos, they couldn’t have been more than 19.” 

“But they stabbed you,” Carlos said darkly. “I think that graduates them from ‘just kids’, TK.” 

“They asked for my wallet but when I told them I didn’t have it…” he trailed off but judging by Carlos’s grimace he could fill in the blanks. “They’re just kids Carlos,” he told him again, “they have their whole lives ahead of them.” 

“But thanks to them, you almost didn’t.” Carlos pointed out, his firm tone shifting as choked out the last words, “you almost died, TK. I almost lost you. That goes well beyond kid stuff.” 

TK knew Carlos was right but the thoughts he had been running away from were back. He couldn’t stand to think that these boys, no older than Danny had been, were out of chances. He couldn’t stand the thought of their lives as they knew them ending over a stupid mistake. 

Carlos was studying him now. He knew that he was an open book to the other man, he had always been. Carlos reached for his hand and wound their fingers together, “Why don’t you tell me what is really going on,” he asked gently. “It has to do with the rough shift, doesn’t it?”

TK swallowed and looked down. “There were two brothers,” he whispered, just loud enough that Carlos could hear, “16 and 19. The older brother was driving. He kept saying that he had just looked away from the road for a moment, that it was all his fault. He made a mistake Carlos — a simple, stupid mistake — and now he and his little brother are both dead. They didn’t get a second chance.”

There were tears running down his face now, but he didn’t bother wiping them away. 

“They didn’t get a second chance,” he repeated, “and I’ve had so many. It just doesn’t seem fair.” 

He felt a hand on his face as Carlos wiped away the tears running down his face. “You’ve used those chances Ty,” he reminded him tenderly, “you’ve used them to become a better person, to help people. They brought you here and made you who you are. They weren’t wasted and they weren’t a mistake; I think they were fate.” 

“But why me?” he asked, voice thick with tears as he met Carlos’s warm brown eyes, “Why did I deserve it? Why didn’t they?” 

“I can’t answer that Ty,” Carlos responded sadly, “no one can. We don’t get a say in who gets a second chance. That goes for you, the brothers, and those kids that did this to you.” 

TK knew he was right. He knew that it was out of his hands and that regardless of what he said or did, the boys who had robbed him in the park would either be caught and punished out they wouldn’t. It was out of his hands. Carlos was watching him and TK was sure that he knew what he was thinking. 

“If that’s not enough,” Carlos said after a few moments, “think about the fact that they could do this again, and that the next person might not be so lucky. The next time it could be a loved one planning a funeral instead of sitting in the ER, because that’s almost where this ended, TK. You can’t protect them.” 

TK wasn’t sure “protect” was the right word. He just didn’t want to see three young lives altered over one mistake. He wanted to see them move past this, to grow from it, but he knew he had no say in the matter. He shifted his focus instead to Carlos who was here and who he could help. 

“How are you doing?” he asked him, shaking his head at Carlos’s objection. “Don’t give me that,” he insisted. “You have been waiting and worrying all night. You found me and saved me. While I am beyond grateful, I know if it had been me and it had been you, I would be a mess so don’t lie to me, Carlos.”

He held his boyfriend’s gaze, watching as it wilted and as Carlos took a deep, shaky breath. 

“It was the scariest thing I have ever faced,” he admitted. “I was a wreck the whole time you were in surgery. If it hadn’t been for your dad and your team, I don’t know what I would have done. But I knew you would be okay because any other possibility was unacceptable.” 

“Is that so?” TK asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Mhm,” Carlos agreed. “Because if anyone tried to take you away from me they’d have to go through me first. I don’t give up easily; I learned from the best, after all.”

TK smiled and pulled at Carlos’s hand. He was still too weak for it to make much of a difference but luckily Carlos understood and moved closer. TK leaned in to give him a kiss: short, but full of love. He liked to think that it was a promise too, but just in case he said the words aloud. 

“And I would do the same for you,” he vowed, holding Carlos’s eyes and giving him a smile. “We’re in this for the long haul, you know. Anybody who says otherwise will have to answer to me.” 

[theodora3022]

How bnha boys would ask you out (Big three edition)

Request: Since you watched Season four, can I have some Mirio and Tamaki headcanons? Similar to your "how they ask you out" post before.

I assume you mean separately because I am not comfortable with writing poly.

Pairing: Mirio togata x reader, Tamaki Amajiki x reader

Notes: Reader is their underclassman, a student of 1A, met them during the work-study arc. Condition: the reader is single. Female reader I guess.

Warning: Just big Fluffs.

Mirio Togata

Before

Sunshine. That is what Mirio is, a pure package of warmth and enthusiasm. If you are shy like Tamaki, you would probably envy his outgoing spirits.

He notices you as soon as he first sets foot in your classroom. You sat there with a hand underneath your chin, looks up to your senpais with those shiny eyes. He seen you around the campus before, also seen your exceptional performance at the sports festival.

When they were introduced as the big three, he did not miss that bright light of admiration in your eyes. Congratulations, you successfully peaked Mirio’s interests. During his short speech, his eyes would circle around the classroom, resting on you for a few more seconds.

When he trained with you that afternoon, whether you are a long-ranged or melee combatant, Mirio would knock you down the first chance he got. Would not want you to hurt yourself recklessly, right? He also thinks how you try to counter him is absolutely adorable.

Nejire and Tamaki notices the extra attention Mirio is giving you. While Neijire would tease him and jokes about it, Tamaki just silently assess you with his intense glare. Mirio is happy that they both think of you as a hard-working kohai, and their approval is just icing on the cake.

After the beat-up training, Mirio approaches you causally and ask you to train together sometime. To make his intentions seems less suspicious, he also extends that invitation to Midoriya.

After a couple of training sessions, you start to warm up to him. You no longer seen him only as Togata Senpai, just Mirio the friendly upperclassman. But he is still not satisfied with the result.

His quirk is made for stalking. I do not accept counter arguments. You all seen how he scares Midoriya Izuku. Probably stalks you as a pastime, you wonder if you are losing your sanity since you always feel like someone is watching you.

During

After another intense afterschool training session, Mirio would ask you to get dinner with him in the city.

“You’re working so hard lately; you deserve a break! Why don’t we go get a bite in the city? My treat.”

You accept delightfully, did not think of it as a date. Just your upperclassman friend treating you with something tasty. You chatted with him about all sorts of things, such as your homework. It feels nothing more then hanging out with a pal.

It is when he tries to kiss you on your way back, you realize something is off.

If you accept, he will become eccentric. You thought the normal Mirio is energic enough, but this mode, good gracious.

Lifting you up by the knees with his strong arms, he will give you a bright smile that can make you blind. “Oh! My dearest (y/n)! Thank you, thank you, thank you! We’re going to be the cutest couple!”

If you flinch and distance yourself from him, that is another story.

“(y/n), not going to kiss your date goodnight?”

When you explain you see him nothing more then a friend, Mirio would laugh. It honestly creeps you out since you expect him to yell, or even show you a hint of anger. Then he would bid you goodnight as if nothing is wrong.

The next day you found an elaborate flame rose bouquet on you desk, without a single clue of who the sender is. Mina would start rambling about how sweet your secret admirer is, but you just felt shivers down your spine.

You texted him. “Can we talk?”

“Of course, anything for you.”

When you meet him in a nearby café few hours after, his usual enthusiastic attitude is still present. The sunshine boy sure knows how to hide any stormy clouds.

Mirio urges you to reconsider, sing you praises that made you blush like mad. You told him you would. “I just never thought of you in that way, but I guess there’s no harm in trying.”

Once the sunflower got you, he will spoil you, probably not with expensive gifts, but with all of his attention.

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

Tamaki Amajiki

I relate to him on so many levels, you have no idea

Before

If his best friend is the sun, shines proudly with endless energy, Tamaki is the moon, shy and would hide behind clouds. (I love this analogy you cannot blame me)

Just like Mirio as soon as he saw you in 1A classroom you got his attention.

Nejire and Mirio would notice how his gaze linger on you more then others, and tease relentlessly until Tamaki is flustered mess.

He asks Mirio to go easy on you on the beat-up training, but Mirio said if you want to get strong, he should not.

It takes a while to get Tamaki even say hello to you, however his eyes will not be left you when you are in the same room as him.

Surprise, surpise, it’s Nejire who come asking for your number, when you ask her why she needs it, she just tilts her head and say: “Tamaki said he wants to train with you sometimes! Here’s his number for you.”

If you are aware of the surroundings you could find a red-cheeked ravenette hiding in the shadows. You wonder why you, out of all your classmates who all have just as much potential.

Tamaki likes to observe small details. How you wave at your friends, how you dash through the hallways as the bells rang, how your sight follow pretty butterflies, how the rice sticks on your chin at lunch time. He got it all down.

You need to text him first, no doubts here. “It’s kouhai (y/n). Hado Senpai said you want to train together? When are you free?”

He felt he has been run over by a train. Is this what having a crush is like? No wonder why people act so stupid while in love.

His reply would be short. Tamaki is not doing that to be rude, he is just at a loss of words. Even though you would never ignore him even if he made typos. 

When you offer him a bottle of water after training, he would freeze. After ten seconds or so, he would snap back, take your gift, and mutter “thank you” before running away, leaving you there confused.

From then on you two would text on a regular basis. You ask him to help with your homework and training, he would ask you about how to deal with social anxiety (if you are outgoing like his best friend). You figured he is a lot more expressive through texts then in person, even though you still need to initiate conversions most of the time.

Tamaki starts to check his phone so often, even when he is at work with Fat Gum. The pro hero would also tease him (poor him, just endless teasing) about his “little girlfriend”. The older man laughs as Tamaki stutter how you two are only friends.  

During

After he answers some of your questions concerning an assignment, Tamaki offers to buy you ice cream. You met him by the gate, in your casual clothes.

As you two are walking back licking your treats, you notice how his dark hair has fallen in front because of the afternoon breeze.

“Ah, your hair is getting in the way. Let me help you.” Your fingers brush his face lightly as you tug strands of raven hair behind his pointy ears. His blush confirms your suspicions. Rumors has been swirling around about you two being more then regular friends, since Tamaki never spends much time with anyone apart from his two best friends.

“(y/n) ...” He dips his head as he finishes the ice cream, screaming inside. What if you say no? How is he going to face you afterwards? What if you say YES by some insane fluke?

“Would you...consider d-doing this s-some other time? W-with me, I mean.” Tamaki instantly regretted it as soon as it comes out. He seen enough rom com to know this is not how you ask a girl out.

If you said “Yes, of course!”, Tamaki would panic. He was not expecting you to, he seen how the other boys in school gazes at you. “Can you pinch me, please?” The sharp pain confirms this is all real, not some wild dream. Very insecure, he would get jealous easily. If you have male friends, he will not interfere (you need your own space too). but if you are being hit on in front of him, Tamaki would like you to kiss him on the cheek and proudly proclaims that you are taken.

If you turn him down, Tamaki’s expression turns grim and he said he understand. Of course, who would love him when they got so many other better options? 

Tamaki would not attempt to court you like Mirio. To him your happiness is his top priority, his personal feelings comes after. If you are happy, Tamaki is content. To him if you love someone, you need to ensure they are happy no matter what (such selfless love is true love).  If you eventually come around, he would be over the moon. Tamaki would bury his face in your chest, saying “thank you” over and over again, and hug you like he would never let go.

The shy ravenette may be timid and emotionally vulnerable, but Tamaki is the kindest soul you will ever find. Treat him with lots of affections and he will give you triple in return.

These boys are just so lovable aren’t they? Honestly I won’t say no to either of them...

[robininthelabyrinth]

Silver Mist - part 3/3 - ao3  or tumblr pt 1, pt 2

warning: adult content, read the ao3 tags

Every enchantment had a weak point.

There was a reason there were more cultivators than foxes out there, why even the cleverest fox had to hide behind a human mask and pretend to some level of decency – why Nie Huaisang had been so careful with playing with his brother, his most favorite and most precious of people. There would come a time when he got weakened, or distracted, or something, and suddenly all his enchantments would slip through his fingers, breaking down, and he’d be left with nothing but what he earned fair and square.

(Nie Huaisang’s mother, the second Madame Nie, had disappeared right after he’d been born, and yet it was Nie Mingjue’s mother that everyone said went away, that everyone recalled leaving, not his – his mother was the one they all said had died.)

Nie Huaisang lived in fear of that moment.

When his brother burned his fans in a rage, he thought – this is it. He’s remembered.

He hates me now.

It was all so very frustrating, too, because he’d finally settled everything just the way he liked it: his da-ge in his life and in his bed, feeding him with his heart and body and happy to see him flourish. It was all he needed in life, just that and nothing more. Sure, Nie Huaisang loved the gifts his brother’s sworn brothers brought for him – he’d always been spoiled beyond belief, and never saw any reason to change. It was ironic, really, that it was Jin Guangyao’s gifts that his brother always found fault with, not Lan Xichen’s which were just as multitudinous, but perhaps it was because he needed to wheedle and whine and beg for gifts from Jin Guangyao.

With Lan Xichen, he just needed to smile.

(Lan Xichen was always weak to a smile. Back at the Cloud Recesses, during the war, his weak protests had died at once at the sight of a smug little curl of the lip as Nie Huaisang pressed him down and climbed on top of him –)

Lan Xichen’s ears didn’t turn red the way Lan Wangji’s did, nor did he duck his head and grin the way Wei Wuxian did, Nie Huaisang observed judiciously, but that didn’t mean he could hide his embarrassment at the very sight of Nie Huaisang, and that made it very easy indeed to talk him into buying Nie Huaisang all the gifts he could possibly want with barely any protest. Maybe a But your brother - that quickly cut off when Nie Huaisang pressed his fan to his lips, but nothing more, and then he’d go above and beyond to find an excuse to take Nie Huaisang shopping for anything that caught his eyes.

But Jin Guangyao…

Sometimes Nie Huaisang would swear that his san-ge gave him all those gifts in front of his da-ge on purpose, the sneaky little minx, even though he knew Nie Mingjue would only rage at him for it.

Nie Huaisang’s presents burned, and he shouted and screamed and fled and cried, and he waited in his da-ge’s bedroom shivering in fear but unwilling to back down. He was a Nie, after all, and being a fox didn’t make him any less that.

“Huaisang?” his brother said, coming in through the door.

He looked – tired.

Tired, not angry; his eyes were bloodshot and he appeared to be in pain – his da-ge, his brave and bold da-ge who feared nothing, in pain!

“Da-ge, what’s wrong?” Nie Huaisang said fitfully, deciding to ignore… everything, at least for the moment. “Why are you like this? What happened?”

“I don’t –” His brother rubbed at his face. “I don’t know. I – I got so angry –”

His nose was bleeding, Nie Huaisang noticed, and frowned. “Da-ge?”

Maybe this wasn’t about what he’d been doing at all.

“Da-ge, come here,” he said, and his brother came to him. “Lie down,” he said, and his brother obeyed, free and clear and of his own volition. “What’s wrong with you?”

“The saber spirit,” Nie Mingjue said dully, staring up at the ceiling. “I thought I’d have longer.”

Nie Mingjue had never explained the exact details of their family’s cultivation technique, only postponed discussing it, and so Nie Huaisang had known there was something wrong with it – his brother only ever shared good things with him, while shielding him from the bad. He’d taught him everything he could, omitting only the last few details, and thus it was in those details that the problem lay.

As if Nie Huaisang couldn’t guess, when every generation of his ancestors had died from a qi deviation.

He scowled.

“It can’t be,” he said, settling down next to his brother on the bed. “You haven’t even been cultivating it that much, recently. Not more than your usual training.”

“Maybe it’s the war?” his brother wondered aloud. “After-effects, only becoming apparent once my cultivation increased further –”

“But the recent increase in your cultivation isn’t even because of saber cultivation!” Nie Huaisang argued. “You’ve been helping me, instead; it’s completely different, a totally different approach. A problem with one method wouldn’t affect an increase in your cultivation through another.”

His brother frowned.

“Huaisang,” he said, his brow furrowing, his eyes clear and thinking – thinking and realizing. “Your new cultivation ‘technique’…”

…oops.

“It’s only because I love you so much, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said at once, immediately pulling himself up and over to straddle on Nie Mingjue’s lap. It gave him an unfortunate view into the expression of shock and no little bit of horror currently forming on his brother’s face, but he needed any advantage he could get – he wouldn’t be able to pull his brother into the trance state like this, not when he’d realized, not when he was fully sober. Nie Huaisang had gotten stronger since they’d started this, but not strong enough to beat his brother when his brother was trying. “Haven’t I been good to you? Don’t I show you how much I love you?”

“Huaisang! There are – you can’t – you’re not allowed to love me that much!”

“Why not?” Nie Huaisang said, and when his da-ge tried to sit up he put his hand on his chest and pushed him back down. Maybe it was the angle, maybe it was the surprise, maybe it was just that his brother wasn’t really trying, but he managed it, and immediately a short sharp shock went straight to his cock. “Why not? Who’s it hurting?”

“Who is it – me! You’re doing it to me!”

“And sometimes you do it to me, what’s your point?” Nie Huaisang said, breezing past the fact that his brother wasn’t referring to penetration at all. “If we keep it discreet, no one will learn from our bad example, and you weren’t really looking for a spouse anyway, were you? You always wanted to leave the sect to me. Why shouldn’t I have you? I want you.”

“Huaisang –”

Nie Huaisang ground his hips down and felt the answering twitch. “It’s too late, anyway,” he said, and his brother stared up at him. “Look at you. I’ve already ruined you – you’ve got my words in your brain, in your core. You’ve had my cock up your ass and you’ve loved it, you get hard just thinking about my cock in your mouth –”

“Because you put it in my head.”

“Just because I put it there doesn’t mean it’s not still there,” Nie Huaisang said, and leaned forward to press his lips to his brother’s neck. “It’s still in there, da-ge. And if it is, then what’s the point of not letting me have you? Haven’t I been taking good care of you, all this time? And look at where it’s gotten us: you sleep better, you eat better, you have the strength to train, I’m stronger than ever before… I’m a good didi, da-ge, I’m your good didi.”

His brother was weakening. Nie Huaisang could feel it in his heartbeat.

“You didn’t take advantage of me,” he whispered, intimate as the lover he had made himself into. “I took advantage of you. There’s nothing to be afraid of, nothing to be guilty for. The act’s already been done, plenty of times – the line’s been crossed, and there’s no going back. There’s only the way forward.”

“Huaisang…”

“Don’t I have your heart?” Nie Huaisang demanded. His fingernails were like claws where they dug into his brother’s chest as if to rip it out himself, his teeth like fangs filling his mouth; he didn’t know what his face looked like right now and he didn’t care. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted – a cultivator as righteous as his brother would be a prize for any fox, any yao, any creature bent against humanity, but all Nie Huaisang wanted was what his brother had always given him freely. “You love me, you love me. Give me your heart and I’ll be happy. Da-ge, I’ll be so happy, you don’t even know, it’s everything I’ve always wanted and more. You give me anything and everything, you always have. Give me this, too.”

“I can’t,” his brother whispered, and it was only I can’t because he couldn’t make it I won’t. “Huaisang…”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Nie Huaisang coaxed him. “I know you love me, and that’s enough. You don’t have to go against everything you are, da-ge, I’d never ask that of you. All I need you to do – the only thing you need to do – you know already, don’t you? You know what you need to do for me.”

Nie Mingjue did know.

All he had to do was let go, give in, and let the words already swirling beneath his skin come to the surface, sink willingly down into the quiet world where Nie Huaisang was master absolute, and Nie Huaisang would make sure that he never felt bad about any of it. Not ever again.

“Give me your heart,” Nie Huaisang said. “Please, da-ge.”

His da-ge’s heart, whole and entire with nothing held back, was the best thing he’d ever gotten.

-

The art of deception was misdirection.

Change one thing in a room at a time, and in time no one would notice that they were in a different room entirely. Set water simmering slowly, and the crabs would cook without ever thinking of escape. Dress up as a god and play the demon to confuse –

Nie Huaisang knew how to play with the hearts of men, for good or for evil, and in comparison their eyes were nothing much. A talisman for illusions, a mimicry of mannerisms – it was easy enough to pretend to be his brother, who was sleeping so sweetly in his bed. A deep sleep, a healing sleep; his poor brother’s meridians were all twisted up into something like a nightmare, but it wasn’t anything that they couldn’t straight out over time, together. All he needed was some sleep and some peace, and Nie Huaisang could give him both, so he did.

His brother had stirred briefly, hearing the siren call of duty, but Nie Huisang was a better siren by far. He promised him that it would be handled, and his brother trusted him to see it done – and he would.

No one knew that the Nie listening coldly to their requests wasn’t the right one.

Not even Jin Guangyao, who came with his head bowed and his demeanor meek, setting up his guqin to play music designed to provide clarity – he expected Nie Mingjue to be there, steady as a rock and just as unshakable, and so, to all appearances, he was. There was no reason to check any further.

He played.

Nie Huaisang listened, his eyes narrowing in a smile – oh, san-ge, he sighed. Oh, Meng Yao.

I always knew we were too much the same.

He did nothing, though, nothing but wait for the song to finish and Jin Guangyao to take his leave, bowing, and then he said, “Will you spend some time with Nie Huaisang today, before you return? He’s still upset from yesterday and not speaking to me.”

Why would he be speaking to his da-ge now? His brother was asleep, just as he ought to be, and speaking to him would only wake him.

Jin Guangyao had been expecting this, too. “Of course, da-ge,” he murmured, and Nie ‘Mingjue’ scowled, Nie Huisang scowled – no one who wanted to really hurt his brother deserved to use that term.

“Dismissed,” he said, and waited until Jin Guangyao left to remove the disguise, drifting out after him, calling, “San-ge!”

Jin Guangyao turned with a smile and Nie Huaisang threw himself forward, wrapping himself around his sworn brother-by-proxy’s dominant arm – he could use both, but he had a preference if you cared to look – and immediately burst out into chatter, complaints and stuff and nonsense, wailing on and on and on about how wronged he had been.

His voice modulated itself into a melody, the cadence quickening and slowing, rising and falling, infused with his own very special cultivation, and it wasn’t that much different from what it normally was – and Jin Guangyao wasn’t really listening to him anymore, anyway, not any more than it took to respond with a few hums of sympathy and the occasional word of consolation.  Why would he? The situation wasn’t anything different from normal, from the boring and mundane and uninteresting, what with there being complaining and whining and Nie Huaisang, a younger brother that he trusted, even if only to be a complete idiot. Absolutely harmless.

Jin Guangyao wasn’t the cultivation genius Nie Mingjue was, but he’d had a very long way to go to catch up; he wouldn’t have made it to where he was now if he hadn’t taught himself the habit of constantly cultivating, drawing in qi from the outside and channeling it inwards. He did so now, unconsciously, spreading the effect throughout his entire body, pulling him inch by inch into something nice and comfortable, pleasantly restful.

There was no need for schemes with Nie Huaisang, after all. He was so silly, so useless; he couldn’t even really be used, only indulged, like the little brother Meng Yao had never been able to afford to have growing up. Look at how dependent he was: scared to do anything else, wholly in the palm of his hand.  

There was nothing to fear.

There was only –

Listening.

Give me your heart.

[lemonpepperhawks]

Castaways

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: After a freak storm, you find yourself shipwrecked on a deserted island with Pro Hero, Keigo Takami. While you work hard to get rescued, you realize too late that all may not be as it seems.

Themes/Warnings: Smut; Yandere!Hawks; Noncon; Bit of a slow burn; This is my first time writing smut so I can’t guarantee it will be good, but I like to think I can at least tell a good story lol

It was a beautiful day to be on the water. The weather report said there would be rain, but the only clouds you could see were far off on the horizon. You stretched out on the bow of the boat, letting the warm sun soak into your pores.

You closed your eyes, reflecting for a moment. At first you had thought a private boat ride was a bit... much, for a first date. But being here in the moment, you couldn’t have had a care in the world if you’d tried. You felt utterly at ease, with the caress of the sun above and the gentle rock of the waves below.

“Order up,” came a voice beside you.

You opened your eyes to see your date, Keigo, standing above you with a drink in each hand. One large wing stretched out behind him, blocking the sun so you didn’t have to squint. He passed you a glass and took a seat on the bow beside you. Lounging side by side, you both sipped your drinks and looked out over the ocean.

“You know,” you began, “I thought you were a little crazy when you asked me out here. On a boat, in the middle of nowhere.” You chuckled. “But I’m really glad I came.”

“Bet you’re also glad I’m not secretly an axe murderer,” Keigo joked, tossing back the rest of his drink. “Refill?”

You looked down at your own almost-empty drink and shook your head. You were feeling unusually drowsy from the combination of alcohol and warm sunshine, and what you honestly wanted was a nice nap.

Somehow, Keigo seemed to pick up on this and scooted closer to you, twisting his finger through a strand of your hair.

“You look so peaceful,” He mused. “You can go to sleep if you want.” “Noooo,” you protested weakly, a small smile on your lips. “I don’t want to fall asleep on you during our first date. I really am having a good time.”

Keigo let out a small chuckle. “Don’t worry, you falling asleep on me would fulfill... several fantasies. And don’t worry, I’ll protect ya from any sharks.”

With this, he swept you into his arms and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead. Normally, this would be far from anything you’d do on a first date - but your head felt so heavy, and the combination of rocking waves and the soft, soothing rhythm of his heartbeat had you falling asleep in seconds, smile still spread across your lips.

☙

You awoke suddenly. You had no idea how much time had passed, but you were immediately aware that several things had changed. First, you were no longer out on the bow of the boat. Instead, you lay inside the boat’s cabin with a towel wrapped around your shoulders. Secondly, you noticed that your hair was damp and dripping onto the planks below you. And finally you found the reason for all this: there was a storm raging outside. 

“Oh!” shouted Keigo, noticing you wake. “I’m sorry, I had to move us inside. This storm sprung up so suddenly; there wasn’t even a cloud and then-”

“Keigo?” you muttered. Your body felt heavy and groggy as you came out of your sleep. You still weren’t alert enough to comprehend what was happening.

“Don’t worry,” assured Keigo. He turned around from his place at the ship’s wheel to face you with a smile, the same easygoing one he always seemed to have. “Lucky for you, I am a master of not only land and air, but also sea. We’re perfectly-”

A loud thud shook the boat as something hit the left window, hard.

“-safe.”

That noise had finished waking you up, and now you were on your feet, stumbling as the boat rocked violently. You made your way over to Keigo at the helm, tripping over your own two feet like a drunk, and gripped onto one of his arms for support. Looking out the windshield, you could see the full force of the squall. Wind slammed the rain back and forth like a whip, severely limiting visibility. You looked up at Keigo, who was focused straight ahead, his eyes seeming to try to pierce through the storm.

“Look, there!” he exclaimed. “There’s an island ahead and to the right.”

You squinted, but couldn’t see anything yourself. 

“Should I steer us over?”

“I think so,” you agreed. The boat seemed sturdy, but it was small. Just a simple vessel meant for trips of no more than a day or two of light sailing. You didn’t like the thought of being out on the open water during a heavy storm like this.

Without another word, Keigo steered the boat in the direction of the island. The motor sputtered, but stayed running. Slowly, you became able to see the outlines of cliffs and trees through the downpour. There didn’t seem to be any dock, so you guessed this was going to be a beach landing and hoped Keigo knew what he was doing.

Suddenly, a huge shudder went through the boat, knocking you off your feet. Without taking his eyes off the storm, Keigo reached out and caught you with one of his strong wings.

“Hold on,” he commanded steadily, tucking you closer to him.

With terror, you realized that your feet were getting wet. Water was starting to seep into the cabin. You looked back to see a large hole in the boat’s hull, and were about to tell Keigo when another spasm rocked the boat. This time even Keigo lost his footing for a moment.

“Rocks,” he explained quickly. “We’re hitting the rocks.”

His voice was calm, but looking up you could see a hint of panic in his eyes. The wind was whipping furiously, and it felt like the boat might capsize at any moment. The shore was tantalizingly close, but you felt in danger of being swept away before you could reach its safety.

Keigo took his eyes away from the storm for a second, to look at you reassuringly. He gave you a smile and opened his mouth to say something, almost shouting against the sound of the wind.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fi-”

And then, all at once, there was a crash, a jolt, and you felt yourself and Keigo being thrown through the windshield and into darkness.

☙

You found yourself waking up again, this time on the soft sand of a beach. The sky was dark, but clear - thank goodness. Looking to your left, you saw a small campfire, and beyond it, Keigo.

“Good evening, sleepyhead,” he said lightly. “Had me worried for a bit.”

You looked down at yourself, making sure you were all in one piece. Amazingly, there was not a scratch on you. Your muscles were a bit sore, but that was it. Nothing hurt, nothing bled.

Looking back at Keigo, you noticed that the same could not be said about him. He was covered in bruises on his arms and legs, and he had a cut running across one of his cheeks that was still freely bleeding.

He must have noticed your look of surprise, because he said, “Don’t worry, I was just about to clean myself up.” He patted a first aid kit at his feet. “Just wanted to make sure we had some warmth first. It’s getting to be night.”

He looked up and out over the sea, and you followed his gaze to marvel at the stars. You had never seen so many. Being far away from any light pollution, the sky looked like a swirling, winding map of light. And there were so many colors in the sky; it was unbelievable. Casting your gaze downward, you landed on the washed-up wreckage of the ship. It was a miracle that it looked to be mostly in one piece. 

“Keigo, what happened?”

“Well,” he said, rummaging through the first aid kit. “I’m sure you noticed the storm.”

Even in a situation like this, he was lighthearted and joking. Part of you found it a little appalling, but part of you wished you could be more like him - more able to quell the rising panic in your chest. 

“It really did come out of nowhere,” he continued. “Never seen anything like it. And it was gone just as soon as it came.”

It was both alarming and astonishing that such a short storm could cause so much destruction. You stared numbly into the campfire as he went on.

“Luckily you’re safe, and that’s what matters.”

You looked up, and Keigo was staring back at you intently. You could tell he meant it. Even though his own body was battered, it was more important to him that you were safe. You supposed that was part of what being a Pro Hero was all about, but it still sent a shiver down your spine to think that he cared for you that deeply, even if only in a professional capacity. He returned his attention to his injuries, dabbing something on his scraped arms. You moved over to help.

“Thanks,” he laughed. “I’ve had worse, but it never hurts to have a pretty girl taking care of ya.”

He winked. Okay, maybe the care and concern extended a little beyond professionalism. 

“Anyway, I took stock of the boat while you were knocked out,” he resumed. “And we have enough supplies to last a few weeks. Which is good, since it looks like we may not be going anywhere soon.”

“Wait, a few weeks?” you interrupted. “Can’t you just, like, fly us out of here?”

“Well, about that...” Keigo mumbled as he turned his back to you.

Where once there had been two brilliant red wings, now there were little more than stubs with feathers protruding from his back.

“It was a pretty rough landing,” he explained. “A lot of my feathers were torn off and swept away while we were in the water. And on top of that, most got mangled anyway when we were thrown out the window. Honestly, I probably couldn’t even get myself off the ground right now.”

At this point, Keigo looked to you and noticed that you were on the verge of tears.

“Hey, don’t worry though.” He took your hand and clasped his fingers around it tightly. “I promise, I’ll take care of you here. You’ll always be safe with me.” You looked up into his soft, golden eyes. His smile beamed back at you as he opened his mouth to add:

“And hey, what a first date this has turned out to be!”

☙

It undoubtedly was turning out to be quite the “first date.” It only took a few days until you had somewhat settled into a routine. There was a lot of free time, but it allowed you and Keigo to get to know each other and work on projects to make your lives easier on the island.

Keigo had insisted on making identical shelters for the two of you, side-by-side. 

“So I can keep a better eye on you,” he explained cheerfully.

At first he had wanted the two of you to share a single lean-to and bed of leaves, but you insisted that you were more comfortable being at least a little ways apart, and eventually he relented. 

“I get it,” he teased, “not ‘that kind of girl.’ But you know I just want to look out for you, chickadee.”

What exactly there was to look out for, you weren’t sure. You had both circled the island several times - it wasn’t that large, and could be walked in a few hours - and the place was completely deserted. Your only fellow inhabitants were a large population of wild chickens, much to Keigo’s delight. Every morning before you woke, he would wander off into one of the more forested areas. And by the time you were awake, he would be wandering back with fresh meat. You didn’t particularly like thinking about where it came from, but you were grateful for the food.

And chickens weren’t all the island had to offer. There were also delicious fruits and wild carrots, which you had stumbled on while clearing some weeds from around your campsite. There was even a spring of fresh water only a ten minute walk from the beach. It was almost the perfect island to be stranded on. And all of this, along with the nonperishable food from the boat, ensured that you were both well fed and hydrated.

Once, you had asked Keigo about the food. Why there was so much on board for just a day trip. He shrugged.

“Better to be prepared and not need it than to need it and not be prepared.”

☙

While there were certainly worse people to be stranded with than your handsome date, you were still looking forward to being rescued. The whole situation was overwhelming, and, although Keigo was doing a great job at playing survivalist and keeping you warm and fed, it made you uncomfortable to be in such a committed situation with someone you had only been on one date with.

Granted, the one date had now turned into a two-week-long stay on a deserted island, but nonetheless you were hoping to get back to civilization so that the two of you could pursue a more normal, less stressful and intense relationship.

Keigo himself seemed unaffected by stress as far as you could see. The first morning on the island, you had asked him how long it would take for his wings to grow back.

“Last time I got this beat up?” he considered. “It took a few months.”

That was not the answer you had been hoping to hear, but it did inspire you to branch out and think of other creative ways to speed up your rescue.

The first thought was obviously your cell phone. However, one look at the glitching screen told you that your phone had been destroyed by the impromptu swim during your arrival. Keigo’s was the same way.

You then turned your attention to making a good old fashioned “SOS” sign out of rocks, which Keigo helped with. You didn’t have much hope for it - you had seen no planes or other boats since being marooned, and you didn’t even have an idea of where the island was in relation to any populated areas.

“Won’t people start looking for you?” you asked Keigo hopefully as you both worked on the sign.

“Eventually,” Keigo agreed. “But honestly, my friends are used to me disappearing on missions without notice. It could be awhile before they realize something is up.”

You, unfortunately, were the same way. A loner. No close friends who would be suspicious of you dropping off the face of the Earth for a few weeks. Of course your presence would be missed at work, but of course you hadn’t told anyone at the office that you would be on a boat,in the middle of nowhere, with the No. 2 Pro Hero for fear of the gossip that would spread. They wouldn’t even know where to start looking for you. 

The two of you really might as well have fallen off the face of the Earth. 

A few days after the completion of your SOS sign, you had an epiphany. The body of the ship was still on the beach, and ships had radios. Even small ones like this. The ship itself might be beyond repair, but the radio could still be functional. You sifted through the rubble to get to the cabin, which was surprisingly intact. 

Keigo wandered up behind you as you went over to the radio. It was rare for you two not to be in each others’ line of sight these days.

“Whatcha doin’?” he asked.

“I just remembered, we can use the radio to get out of here!” you responded excitedly.

Keigo said nothing. You flicked on the radio and were delighted to see the small green light on its casing come to life. You held the receiver up to your ear, and were greeted by silence. You flipped to another channel. Silence. And another. More silence. Your heart sinking, you went through the channels one by one, and were rewarded with nothing. 

Keigo came up to put an arm around your waist. “No luck?” he asked calmly.

“I don’t understand,” you sobbed. “How can this be? The light is on; it should be working. There’s not even static!”

“Let’s not wear out the battery,” Keigo suggested, reaching past you to flick the radio off. 

The green light, and your hopes of rescue, blinked out.

“Maybe I could fix it,” you mused, brightening a little.

“Maybe,” Keigo agreed, giving you a squeeze. “I think I have some tools in here somewhere.”

☙

The days drew on, and you began to feel stagnated. You hadn’t made any progress toward being rescued. Despite several weeks passing, Keigo’s wings did not look any fuller. The bruises and scar across his face had healed nicely, but his wings remained bare. You had no idea how their growth worked, but you had been hoping that by now he might be able to fly himself - even if it meant leaving you on the island alone, he could at least scout for a rescue ship during the day, or perhaps even fly back to civilization and tell them where to find you.

Keigo, however, had grown increasingly reluctant to leave your side. You supposed the isolation was getting to him and making him clingy. You were his only company after all. And besides, it was kind of cute, having an otherwise confident and laid-back man follow you around like a puppy dog. You could tell he was infatuated with you, and you couldn’t deny that you had been developing stronger feelings for him as well. It was hard not to when he spent most of the day in just his cargo shorts, sweat glistening on his muscled back.

Still, you insisted on keeping your separate sleeping arrangements. Keigo pouted about it, but seemed to understand that you weren’t ready for that yet. 

Aside from your daily chores of sleeping and eating, you spent most of your time cleaning up around the campsite, playing games to pass the time - you were both pros at Rock Checkers by this point - and just talking to each other. You enjoyed hearing about all of Keigo’s exploits as a hero, and he seemed just as interested in the details of your average civilian life. You had spent so much time together at this point; it was impossible not to grow close, and maybe even a little dependent. You couldn’t blame Keigo - you liked having him around too.

Occasionally, Keigo would disappear into the dense forest during the afternoons, and you would be left with free time to work on tinkering with the radio. On one such occasion, before leaving,  he gave you a playful warning.

“You stay right there while I’m gone, chickadee. You never know what big scary monster you might run into in these woods.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s just you in those woods, Keigo,” you returned, laughing. 

Keigo just smirked and disappeared into the trees.

☙

Later that same afternoon, you sat hunched over the radio. Not only did Keigo have a toolbox stowed in the ship’s cabin, but the radio operation manual as well. These resources had proved to be very helpful in taking the radio apart, but not too helpful in actually getting it to work. You were beginning to grow frustrated when a voice behind you startled you.

“Hey!” called Keigo. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You turned to see his messy mop of blond hair poking through the doorway behind you.

“Come here,” he said excitedly. “I have something to show you!”

“Hang on just a minute, Keigo,” you responded. “I think I’m close to a breakthrough here. The manual says there should be a green wire right here-” you pointed to a terminal node on the radio “-but I can’t see one. It must have been knocked loose. If I can just find that, we should be able to-”

“Aw, come onnnnnn” whined Keigo. “It’s getting dark out, and you’ve been working too hard. This can wait until tomorrow. I have something I really want to show youuuu.”

You sighed. He could be immature at times, but his childlike excitement was also something that drew you. You couldn’t resist the excited light in his eyes. 

“Okay,” you relented, putting your tools and loose parts away. “If you’re so eager, I guess we’d better get going.”

Practically skipping, Keigo dragged you into the woods. You had not explored much of this part of the island, seeing as it was in the opposite direction from the fresh water source. You hadn’t really had the interest or need to.

“Close your eyes,” Keigo commanded giddily.

You must have been getting close to whatever the surprise was. After a few minutes of guiding you through the trees, Keigo put his hands on your shoulders to stop you. He put something rough into your hands. 

“This is a rope ladder. Climb up and I’ll let you know when you’re getting close to the top.”

You smiled a little to yourself as you started up.

“And don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you slip,” he added. 

At the top, Keigo made you keep your eyes closed until he could scramble up to join you. You had expected to be in a tree, but beneath your feet it felt like solid ground. You guessed that this, whatever this was, was what Keigo had been working on during the times he disappeared into the woods. 

“Okay,” said Keigo, a little out of breath as he came up behind you. “Go ahead and open your eyes.”

You opened your eyes and gasped as Keigo wrapped his arms around you. You were in the trees, their leaves surrounding you on all sides. Actually, you realized, you were between several trees, standing on a firm platform of vines and leaves suspended within their branches. The trunk of one rose up through the center of the floor like a giant column. Peering beyond it, you had a magnificent view of the ocean and sky, where the sunset was just disappearing, giving way to night.

“You like it, baby?” Keigo whispered in your ear. “I built this just for us.”

“It’s - wow it’s - definitely impressive,” you stuttered. 

You had the sudden and overwhelming feeling that you were perched in a nest. A nest belonging to a very large, very strong bird.

Keigo nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“I know you’ve been feeling shy, chickadee, so I wanted to make our first time extra special.”

“You wha-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Keigo spun you around and planted a kiss on your lips, silencing them. One hand was in your hair and the other around your waist, pressing you fully against him. His mouth moved with desperation, trying to force yours to open further. 

“I’ve dreamed of this for so long,” Keigo panted, lowering you both to the floor. “And I know you have too. I see the way you look at me, baby.”

Keigo’s own eyes blazed with hunger, his smile beaming above you. In the dying light, his skin seemed to glow, taking on an unearthly sheen. You were speechless, and unsure of what to say even if you could find your voice.

Keigo started to lift your tattered shirt, and that snapped you back to reality.

“Please, wait,” you begged, grabbing at his hands.

“You don’t need to be shy anymore,” Keigo insisted, pushing away your hands. He reached beneath your shirt to squeeze one of your breasts. “I love you and I’m going to take care of you. Always. Please, please just let me make you feel good!”

“Keigo, STOP!” you demanded.

He stopped, and pulled his hands away from you slightly.

“Keigo, I- you’ve been so nice to me,” you started. “But I’m sorry, I’m just not ready for this. This is all so intense and I- I just want to go home so we can have a normal relationship instead of being stuck on a fucking deserted island!”

Keigo backed off from you, looking hurt and dejected. You were almost in tears, and your voice hitched as you spoke.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. “I think… maybe it would be best if you slept here tonight and I went back to the campsite.”

Keigo made no response. Unsure of yourself, you stood up and made your way over to the rope ladder. His silence persisted as you lowered yourself down and started back in the direction of the campsite.

☙

Eventually, you found your way back to camp. It was fully dark by the time you reached the side-by-side lean-tos, and you flopped down in one of them, eyes blurred from crying.

You didn’t know what had happened back there. Keigo had been nothing but sweet and generous throughout all of this. Even his treehouse, while a bit presumptuous and misguided, was a sweet testament to his feelings for you. You just weren’t prepared for how fast things were moving. 

Maybe you had overreacted. It was too dark at this point to try and find your way back to Keigo, but in the morning you would find him and explain things. That you had feelings for him, but wanted to focus on getting out of here before pursuing anything more.

You leaned back and closed your eyes. You had half expected Keigo to follow you, but it seemed he hadn’t and was going to spend the night apart as you requested. Uneasily, you drifted to sleep.

☙

You were prodded awake in the middle of the night by a stabbing sensation in your shoulder. Groggily, you propped yourself up and felt behind you for whatever loose twig was the culprit. As you did, you realized with some amusement that you had fallen asleep on Keigo’s bed. He always took the left lean-to and you took the right. It had become a sort of unspoken rule, like a couple who each has “their side” of the bed.

You felt a pang of regret thinking this. If only Keigo hadn’t come on so strong. The truth was that you did want what he wanted. You wanted to be with him. But the stress of your situation and the intensity with which he tried to seduce you had been too much. You hoped you could work things out in the morning.

“Such an idiot,” you muttered. “Hope I didn’t ruin our chances for good.”

Finally, your fingers located the thing that had been poking you. It was oddly smooth, and, as you saw lifting it out of the pile of bedding, not a twig at all. 

You held it up to the moonlight in disbelief: a little green wire. 

Your stomach dropped. Swiftly and silently, you stalked toward the wrecked ship, needing to be sure. By the light of the moon, you quietly opened the casing of the radio, found the node with the missing connection, and slipped the green wire in. It reached perfectly to the node on the other side.

You tried not to let the panic set in. But something was very wrong. You felt the need to get out of there, away from the confined space of the ship.

Tumbling into open air, you began to pace on the wet sand, away from the boat and the campsite. Your thoughts were a whirlwind. Why would Keigo keep that wire from you? Why would he have it in the first place? The answer was obvious, but you didn’t want to believe it. You had been walking aimlessly for at least ten minutes, frightened and confused.

Suddenly, your foot hit something sharp in the sand.

☙

You fell to your hands and knees on the beach, and immediately scrambled around to see what had pricked you. There was a sharp point sticking out from the packed sand, and you dug around to reveal the object.

It was a feather. 

Brilliantly red even in the glow of night, and far too big to belong to any normal bird. Tears welled up in your eyes. You continued to dig and uncovered another, then another. Soon you had unearthed a pit filled with the things.

“Enjoying your night without me, chickadee?”

One of the feathers zipped past you, toward the sound of the voice. 

Trembling, you turned to face him as plumes of feathers swirled around you. One by one, they found their way to Keigo, and his wings began to reconstruct themselves in front of your eyes. Keigo’s hands were stuffed in his pockets as he looked down on you.

“Glad I don’t have to keep secrets anymore,” he said flatly. “I was really beginning to miss having these.”

His wings were stretched out to their full length, making his presence impossible to ignore and extremely intimidating. He relaxed them slightly and sighed. 

“Keigo, you- you knew this whole time,” you spat. “The radio, the feathers, the food - this whole island!”

The man in front of you said nothing.

“Why?” you asked weakly. “Why would you do this?”

“What? Is it so bad to want some time with you?” Keigo shot back suddenly. “I told you, you had nothing to worry about. I love you. I can take care of you here.”

With this, he flew toward you at frightening speed. Before you had time to attempt an escape, he was on top of you. Pressing you down into the wet sand with the full weight of his body.

“Why can’t you just be appreciative? I did all this for you. Just to be with you!”

“You could have killed me!” you screamed into his face. “You weren’t keeping me safe! You could have killed me!”

At your words, Keigo’s expression darkened drastically. He was frowning at you, and you had never seen him like that before. No, not just frowning, but scowling. 

Your shirt was torn off before you could even register what was happening. 

“You said it yourself,” remarked Keigo, towering above you as he kept you pinned with his legs. A smile was creeping back on his lips. “I’ve been so nice to you. But I think I’ve been too nice. I think it’s time for me to take what I want.”

Keigo grabbed at the rest of your clothes and dragged them off of you, leaving you exposed beneath him. Then he undid his own pants and let himself spring free.

Slowly, all while looking down at his captive, Keigo used a hand to pump his throbbing cock. Reaching, he took one of your hands and wrapped it around his length, holding it there as he leaned down to bring his face right against yours.

“This is exactly what you want, you little tease,” he whispered harshly. With his other hand, he plunged two fingers inside you, feeling as your walls became slick and clenched around him.  “I know you do.”

Smiling wide, Keigo straightened up. With his hands, he pushed your arms to either side of your head and pressed them against the sand. With his tongue, he trailed up and along your body from hip to breast, making you squirm. He was marking you as his, showing that he owned and could do whatever he wanted with you.

“Keigo, stop!” you cried once again, trying to look anywhere but up at him.

“No,” he growled. “This time, I won’t.”

He slammed his cock straight into your core, making you cry out in shock and pain. 

“Quiet, baby. Wouldn’t want anyone to hear us!” Keigo taunted.

He thrust into you again, this time only eliciting a whimper. Keigo’s own unrestrained grunts and moans mixed with the sound of the waves against the beach as he continued at his frantic pace. After a few minutes, he regained his composure and looked down, where you were trying to shrink into the sand beneath him.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Keigo crooned. “You know I really do love you, and I promised I’d make you feel good, too.”

Using a wing to continue holding your arm in place, Keigo brought one of his hands up to his mouth and gave two fingers a scandalous lick. He never stopped looking down at you as he did so, an amused little look flashing across his face as you shivered at the sight. He brought the hand down between your legs, and began to rub slow circles around your clit, his saliva mixing with the wetness that already coated you. Involuntarily, you let out a moan.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he coaxed. He began to pump his cock in and out of you again, slowly this time. “Show me how much you want this.”

Not letting up, Keigo leaned down to use his mouth on you as well, biting and licking at your collar bones. He picked up his pace steadily. Your hands remained pinned, and all you could do was writhe under the onslaught of his touch. 

His fingers were rough, and they grazed your clit relentlessly, sending shocks up your sides. You could feel a coil winding deep in your stomach, and despite yourself, you were desperate for a release. Keigo could feel you tightening around him as he neared his own climax.

Forgetting the restraints, Keigo shot up and pulled you with him, continuing to pound into you while on his knees. With your hips raised in the air, Keigo kept the pressure of his fingers on your most sensitive spot, sending you past the point of no return.

As he felt your walls clenching, he growled into the night:

“Tell me who makes you feel this fucking good!”

“K-Keigo!” you screamed, your body convulsing as you reached your climax.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming you both down into the sand again. “And it’s because you’re mine. All. Mine.”

At these words, you felt his cum gushing into you, making you flush from head to toe. He held his arms around you tightly as he rode out his own high, moaning in a gravelly, guttural voice.

The night was quiet for a moment, with only the sound of heavy breaths and crashing waves to echo off the beach as Keigo remained poised above you.

Finally, as his panting slowed, Keigo spoke.

“We should probably get comfortable, chickadee. It might be a long while before they find us.”

[judediangelo75]

An Enchanted Kiss (Part 1)

An Enchanted Kiss

Alright, let’s see if I can do this…

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

This is a story that took place long ago.

A story of about loneliness... sadness… understanding... love...

Between a young Winter Sprite and a Spring Nymph...

This is their tale...

----

Once there lived a young couple, a summer Fae named Ava and a Winter Sprite named Trent. The two were madly in love with one another and desired to start a family together. 

For many years, the couple have struggled to conceive a child.

Until one day, Ava felt something stir in her womb. This both shocked and delighted the pair, for now they had a chance of starting the family they longed prayed for. 

The pregnancy, however, took a toll on the Summer Fae. She could feel ice build within her veins with each passing month of her pregnancy. Her unborn child is already proving to be a powerful Winter Sprite. 

Strong enough to freeze her from the inside out...

With a steely resolve, she knew she wouldn’t survive long after the birth. With this in mind, she informed Trent of her possible demise.

The Winter Sprite was heartbroken to her the news that he would be without his beloved, but heeded her words of wisdom about how to care for their child when he or she was born.

Despite the pain, Ava still glowed with the warmth of the summer sun. She constantly doted on her expanding belly, singing and speaking kindly to her unborn child.

It wasn’t until one fateful day, she felt a painful contraction and liquid leak down her leg.

Her child was ready to see the world.

In their home, Ava went through several long hours of labor. She could feel the cold spread more rapidly, causing her blood to grow sluggish. Trent attended to his weakening wife’s every need.

Even suffering a mangled hand and she pushed their child into the world.

Their faces lit up at the sound of their child’s first wail of life. Trent quickly cut the cord that connected mother to child and proceeded to clean the babe.

“It’s a boy,” he whispered to his tired wife, tears of happiness and heartbreak running down his face. Ava raised her arms.

“May I...” Never one to deny his lovely wife anything, Trent handed off their son to her. Ava gazed down at her son, whose cloudy red eyes gazed sightlessly back at her.

“He... he has your eyes,” she whispered, caressing the babe’s soft cheek. Trent pressed a kiss to her temple.

“And he looks like he’ll have your hair color,” he whispered back as the young boy fell asleep in his mother’s arms.

“He’s beautiful,” Ava said softly, the cold began to slowly numb her senses.

“What would you like to name him,” Trent asked, gently squeezing her freezing hand.

“Talbott... his name is Talbott,” Trent smiled.

“Talbott... it’s perfect,” he said. Ava gave her husband one last adoring look, squeezing his hand back. 

“I love you, Trent,” she whispered. Trent willed himself not to cry in front her, knowing she wouldn’t want him to feel sad.

“And I you, my beautiful Swan,” he replied, placing a chaste kiss to her cheek. A week giggle escaped Ava’s lips at the gesture.

She placed a kiss to her son’s forehead.

“I love you, my little Talbott. Forever and always,” she told the sleeping babe. Ava could feel her heart slowing down and suddenly felt immensely tired.

She gave her husband one last smile before closing her eyes, submitting to her eternal slumber.

Trent pressed another kiss to his wife’s cold forehead, a lone tear running down his cheek. He then took his sleeping son in his arms so he could rest in his nursey.

Then there were two...

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

Years would go by and Talbott grew up to be a quiet handsome boy. 

He inherited his father’s red eyes and sharp facial features but had the same skin color and hair color from his dear mother.

He was told what happened to his mother after he constantly questioned his dad about her whereabouts. Trent didn’t want to break his son’s heart by telling him what really happened to her but when he asked if she abandoned them, he broke.

Talbott balled in his father’s lap when he understood what has become of his mum. It was almost impossible to calm the weeping child. Until Trent remembered a gift left behind by his late wife. Leading his son to his bedroom, Trent searched the drawers until he found what he was looking for.

He dusted off the box before handing it to his sniffling son.

“What’s this, dad,” the young boy asked, wiping his teary face. Trent gave his son a small smile.

“A gift from your mother...” Talbott stared at the plain brown box before tentatively opening it. A white feather necklace.

“Your mum was an Animagus, meaning she could transform into an animal. Her Animagus form was a Swan. She wanted to leave you something to remember her by,” his father explained. Talbott gave his dad a teary smile before on the necklace. The young child hugged his sire.

“Thank you, dad. I love you and mum,” he mumbled into his chest. Trent let out a shaky breath before returning the hug.

“And we love you, Talbott. Always...”

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

“Dad, dad! Guess what, I can d-” The excitement that flooded the young Winter Sprite was replaced with devastation.

There laying in bed was his father. He held a wood drawing of his late wife to his chest. A single tear streak was found on his ashen face.

Talbott quickly rushed over to his side, trying to find a pulse. But there was none.

Talbott wept over his dead father’s body, pleading with him to come back. To open his eyes so he could show him his new ability to turn into a Golden Eagle. That he inherited another gift from his mother. To watch him smile and laugh as he flew overhead.

A gaping hole was felt right where his heart was. Frost was building in his veins as a snow storm quickly began to form outside his home.

Pulling away, Talbott stared sightlessly at his father. With a flick of his wrist, Trent’s body levitated under a cushion of snow flurries.

Talbott got up and walked out, with his dad’s body trailing behind him. With his destination in mind, the young man walked in the snow that was quickly picking up speed. But he paid it no mind.

For it can’t compare to the cold emptiness building within his chest.

Some time would pass until Talbott reached a lake. Heading towards the massive weeping willow, Talbott stood in front of a familiar ice gravestone.

This was the place his mum was laid to rest.

It would only be right if he were to give his dad the chance to be with her again.

Using his magic, Talbott slowly lowered his dad’s body towards the ground, watching as nature seem to swallow it body home. As if they were claiming one of their own once more.

Talbott erected another gravestone of ice, this time with his father’s name one it.

The young Winter Sprite stood there for some time. Not saying a word as his magic swirled around him.

The only thing he could think of was now his parents were together again.

But he was left alone.

His passive face morphed into glare.

And if he had to be alone, then the entire world will feel his loneliness as well…

————————————

Few days later, miles away from the Winter Sprite’s home was a Spring Nymph. Her name was Judith.

The young girl was her father’s pride but her mother’s disappointment.

Kendrick, a Summer Fae, and Sade, a Fall Pixie, only were together out of circumstance.

The Summer Fae had intentions on leaving since he didn’t believe the relationship was going anywhere until the Fall Pixie said she was pregnant with his child.

He cared the pregnant woman and helped her through the birthing process of their child. Kendrick may have not knew love with Sade but he couldn’t help but to fall in love looking into his daughter’s droopy gold eyes.

While he was happy to have a daughter, Sade detested the young babe. She knew Kendrick didn’t love her.

Last thing she wanted was a child that reminded her of this.

Few months after the birth, Sade left.

She didn’t leave a note as to why.

Kendrick wasn’t sure how to feel about her disappearance. While he wasn’t sad or angry, he felt worried that his child wouldn’t have a loving maternal figure.

But his little princess didn’t seem bothered at all. So neither was he.

Judith grew up to be a beautiful young woman, almost her father’s twin.

The Spring Nymph proven to be a ray a sunshine. Kind and gentle. Graceful and beautiful.

She was singing and dancing in the forest. Birds responded to the sound of her voice and flowers blossomed by her feet where she danced. Even some of her magical creature friends came out to play with her.

She giggled as she watched her Knarl, Porlock, and Fairy dance around her.

Though it all came to a halt when a cold breeze brushed past her. Her body shuddered at the sudden cold touch.

“How odd… Winter ended not too long ago, why is suddenly getting cold in the beginning of Spring,” she mumbled aloud. Her creature friends took note of this as well, huddling closer to her for warmth.

She gently hushed them and quickly made her way home where they could stay for a bit.

“Papa,” she called out as she walked inside. Her father popped his head out from the kitchen.

“Hello, baby girl. Is something wrong?” Kendrick can see the crease of worry in his daughter’s brows as her lips were pulled down in a small frown.

“I think there’s something wrong, Papa. The temperature outside seems to be getting colder for some reason… do you mind if Ash, Baron, and Lily stay here for awhile?” Kendrick cocked his head to the side upon hearing this. Of course he allowed the creatures to stay in their home.

It was the cold he was curious about.

Stepping outside with his daughter beside him, Kendrick let out a full body shiver. Gold eyes narrowed out of concern as he spotted dark snow clouds rapidly coming their way.

“This is no ordinary winter snow, baby girl. This has to be the work of a powerful Winter Sprite,” he informed as he quickly ushered his daughter inside again.

“Papa, there’s something different about this… it’s like I can feel loneliness and heartbreak mixed in with the magic,” Judith told her father. Kendrick rose a brow at this.

He always knew Judith was a sensitive soul, so to hear this was intriguing.

“I want to find the person behind this,” Judith said. Kendrick looked like he was ready to argue but stopped when his daughter hugged him.

“Please Papa. I promise I’ll be safe…” Kendrick frowned, slightly conflicted. He didn’t want his only child to get hurt, or worse, freeze at the hands of this Winter Sprite. But he know how determined his little girl was. She would probably sneak out on her own if he said no.

He let out a sigh.

“Fine. But you better stay safe, you hear?” The Spring Nymph nodded against her father’s chest before getting on her toes and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“I will, Papa. I’ll be back soon…”

——————————

Talbott was trekking through the snow, watching his power cloak the world in ice and snow. The cold temperature didn’t faze him as it did the wild life around him. Magical creatures ran away from him to seek shelter from the bitter cold.

“Hey!” Talbott paused at the sound of a female voice calling out to him. He turned to see to a girl around his age.

Judging by her attire, she was a Spring Nymph. 

‘A beautiful one at that...’ the Young Winter Sprite thought with narrowed eyes. 

Still. 

Just because this girl was one of the most stunning creatures he ever seen, he can’t find it within himself to get close to her.

“What?” Judith blinked at the harshness in the Winter Sprite’s tone. One of the first things she noted was how handsome the boy was, ever with his glaring red eyes...

“Please Winter Sprite, cease this journey for eternal cold.” Talbott’s lips formed a sneer as he let out a hollow laugh at the sound of her plea.

“And why should I do that, little Spring Nymph? I was left alone! My mother died bringing me into this world and my father joined her just days prior. I have nothing but this ice in my heart! And this world will feel the same as I,” The Winter Sprite snarled, stepping menacingly towards her. 

Gold eyes widen at the ice flurry building in Talbott’s hand. Judith was quick to dodge his attack, wide eyes staring at the ice shard that now stood in her place. 

“I don’t want to hurt you. I want to help! You can come and live with me and my father,” she said slowly as she saw the Winter Sprite charging another attack.

“I don’t want your pity. And I don’t wish to hurt you either... but I will if you continue to stand in my way,” he replied smoothly. Which was true. He didn’t want to hurt her at all. 

Something about her felt right. Like if he were to be wrapped up in her arms and see her smile, he’d melt like an ice cube on a summer’s day. 

But he feared growing attached to her. People in his life will always leave. His fragile heart couldn’t take another hit if he let her in and she did the same.

“I can’t let you freeze the world,” the girl said, pulsing green energy came to life in the palm in her hand.

Talbott gave a cold smirk. 

“I would love to see you try to stop me, darling,” he chuckled.

And the battle begun.

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

“Come out, come out wherever you are, little Spring Nymph...” Judith could her the taunting sound of the Winter Sprite’s voice as she hid behind a tree. 

She has no idea how long they’ve been fighting but she could feel the exhaustion being to set in. 

Along with the biting cold surrounding her. 

Her magic helped kept her warm enough to handle the cold but with her spending energy in putting up shields and attacking, she began to numbing cold. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep this up. She would have to escape and try to fight another-

She gasped with she felt a cold hand on her shoulder and was swiftly turned around to meet red eyes.

“Found you,” Talbott purred. Talbott had no idea why he made his presence known to the Spring Nymph.

He could’ve just froze her on the spot without her trying to fight back. 

But he wanted to get closer for some reason.

He could smell the sweet fragrance coming from the flowers in her hair. Despite her shivering, he could still feel the gentle warmth radiating from her soft skin underneath his hand. Even with the panic in those pale gold eyes, they reminded him of the sun on a summer’s day. 

Radiant and warm.

Judith could feel a blush steadying rising in her cheeks as the Winter Sprite seemed to being studying her face. With him even closer now, she could see his handsome features up close. His ombre hair was slicked back to reveal the sharp features of his face. The intense glare of those red eyes reminded Judith of thorny red roses.

Beautiful but harmful if you’re not careful.

Not even the frown on lips can hide their fullness. Judith licked her lips out of nervousness, which grew worse when Talbott’s eyes zeroed in on her’s.

‘They look as soft as the petals in in her hair... maybe even softer...’ Talbott silently mused to himself as he unconsciously leaned closer. Judith’s eyes fluttered closed as the Winter Sprite got closer. Both unsure where this was going but eager for the possibility nonetheless.

She could feel the coolness of his lips brush against her warm ones when the Winter Sprite was blasted away from her.

“Judith!” She gasped when a pair of arms scoop her up bridal style and she was carried away. Judging by the familiar warmth, her Papa found her.

Peeking over the man’s broad shoulder, she could see the glare being sent their way by the Winter Sprite.

As well as the hand touching his lips...

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

Talbott didn’t appreciate the sudden attack from the towering man who seemingly came out of nowhere, stealing the little Spring Nymph away. While he never saw the man’s face, judging by same locs and skin tone, that man could’ve been her father. 

Talbott couldn’t help but to rub his lips out of wonder.

He didn’t plan sharing the near kiss with the Spring Nymph, who he now knows goes by the name Judith. He acted out of impulse.

Something in him shattered with he caught the motion of her tongue wiping over her plump red lips. 

He only wanted a taste. A taste of what being with her could mean. 

He was no fool. He knew he couldn’t truly harm her like he threatened to do. Some small part of his frozen heart wouldn’t allow it. A small part that she thawed.

Despite his harshness towards her, she meant what she said. She didn’t want to hurt him. While he threw ice daggers and beams at her, she didn’t retaliate.

She mainly threw up shields to protect herself, aim her magic near him so the snow would engulf him or for her plants to grow in attempts to restrain him.

Talbott can see the kindness in her heart. After all, who offers their home to a stranger?

His hesitance to harm her and the almost kiss proved that he felt something towards her.

While he was still planning on cloaking the world in ice and snow, he was considering on making her his Queen.

He knew she felt the connection between them, she wouldn’t have gave into him so easily.

He would just have to find out how much...

Transforming into his Golden Eagle, he flew after the retreating pair.

[spider6oy]

Magic Sticks || Peter Parker

summary: as y/n is trying to practice her witchcraft, peter can’t help but feel intrigued - leading to him coming to watch her first hand.

peter parker x fem!reader

warnings: witchcraft

word count: 1200-ish

masterlist

You pushed your hair behind your ears. The loose strands had begun to tickle at the skin along your jaw, causing you to lose your concentration on the spell before you. You let out a small breath before raising one of your hands; an averaged sized stick was being gripped tightly in your right palm, another stick in your left. You pursed your lips, using the stick in your right hand to tap at your chin; reading over the words written by one of your ancestors (Elizabeth Y/L/N; a handmaiden during the eighteenth century). Her writing was all swirls and long strokes. Your eyes traced over the fading ink as you readied your hands to begin the spell once more, gripping the sticks even tighter.

You closed your eyes, soon feeling the swell and build-up of power deep within your chest as your body readied itself to perform the simple incantation.

"Like brass to fire, like stick to flame, heed my words, know my- “

“What’re you doing?”

Your eyes immediately shot open at the sound of the voice; whatever type of power that had been coursing through your veins instantly vanishing. Your body twisted and turned as you searched the room for the prime suspect who has disturbed your craft. Your eyes quickly landed on the culprit; narrowing into slits as you glared at the teenage boy stood in the entranceway to the training room.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You questioned sarcastically, waving the sticks in your hands around for added emphasis.

Peter pushed himself off from the doorframe he had been leaning on, keeping his arms crossed as he slowly walked towards you. “Uh, practicing your new super-cool drum solo?” He answered, eyebrows raised in question as his eyes shifted between you and the sticks currently in your possession.

You blinked lazily; questioning how the boy who stood in front of you was both one of the smartest people you had ever met and also one of the dumbest. You shook your head in disappointment as you swivelled back around on your spot on the floor, facing the yellowed piece of parchment once more.

“I’m practicing witchcraft, you dumbass.” You stated, sighing lightly as you shifted the paper closer towards you. “Well, I was before you interrupted me. You’re lucky I didn’t set you on fire by accident,” You pondered on the thought, “I don’t know how I would have explained that to Tony or May.”

Peter walked around you, ignoring your empty threats, as he sat on the ground opposite you. His hand inched towards the aged paper, “Woah, is that the spell?!” He asked; excitement and wonder laced in his tone as his eyes shone in amazement at the not-so-simple piece of paper.

You lightly hit his outstretched hand with one of your sticks, sending him a look of warning. “Don’t touch my spells, Parker.” You pulled the enchantment towards your body – making sure it was out of Peter’s grasp. “It’ll turn your skin to ash.” You said, raising your sticks into the same position from earlier as you once again began to attempt the simple spell.

“Oh my gosh, really?!” Peter questioned.

He sounded. . . excited?

Did he actually want his skin to turn to ash?

“No.” You watched as the glint of awe that had been swirling in his brown irises disappeared, a new look of disappointment flashed across his features. “But I will if you try to touch my spells again.” You threatened, not missing the way Peter rolled his eyes at your statement – he knew you would never actually harm him.

“So. . . what are you trying to do?” Peter queried, eyeing the two sticks you had yet to put down in your hands, “And why do you need those?”

You shook out your shoulders, feeling some form of energy begin to build in the pit of your stomach as you readied yourself to begin the incantation. “I’m trying to create fire, and the sticks are required to do the spell.” You stated before breathing out slowly, raising the sticks into the air.

Peter watched you as you closed your eyes once again. He studied your face intently; watching in adoration as your face soon became a picture of utmost tranquillity. His eyes traced over the smoothness of your brow, the way in which your eyelashes gently rested upon your delicate skin, and the way your lips pouted ever so slightly as you concentrated on completing your spell.

He pulled his knees up to his chest, hiding the lower half of his face behind his folded legs in an attempt to hide the smile that had slipped onto his lips – all he could think about was how truly beautiful you looked in that very moment.

He never wanted to forget it.

"Like brass to fire, like stick to flame, heed my words, know my name. Faster than light, dark corners seek, lick to flame, my vengeance wreak." While the words slipped from between your lips, you continuously tapped the sticks against each other, just as the spell had instructed. Your eyes snapped open quickly, witnessing the sparks that shot from the pieces of wood, making white dots cloud your vision. The sparks soon died down, revealing steady burning red flames, reflecting off of your Y/E/C orbs.

"Holy shit. It worked!" you whispered, slightly startled at what you had just done – not actually thinking you had the capabilities to pull off even a simple spell as this.

“Oh my god!! That was awesome!” Peter shouted, practically jumping up from his place on the floor as he continued to watch the fire burn.

His eyes then flickered from the flames and moved towards you; staring at you with one of the brightest grins you had ever seen (you believed it could rival the sun). “That was honestly one of the coolest things I have ever seen! I had no idea you had the power to do that, Y/N. Can you do anymore spells? Could you show me them? Please?”

You were completely stunned.

Never had somewhere been this interested in your powers before – or even you for that matter.

Your mouth bobbed open and closed as you struggled to find the words to respond. You quickly stifled a cough as you tried to regain a sense of composure; whilst wondering why Peter Parker of all people had made you lose it in the first place.

“Um,” you tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, “yeah, I guess. I mean. . . if you really want to?” You muttered, somehow not seeming to look away from Peter – the look on his face becoming oh-so addicting.

His smile seemed to widen even further at your reply (you didn’t think that was possible) and he quickly pushed himself up from his position on the floor - you couldn’t help but notice the eagerness that had begun to seep onto his features.

“Oh, you mean right now?”

“Yes! W-Well only if that’s okay with you, Y/N?” He stuttered, awkwardly scratching at the nape of his neck.

You pushed yourself up from the floor; collecting your sticks and your ancestors spell as you silenced the burning flames with a few words whispered under your breath.

“Yeah that’s fine Parker, just don’t go touching anything in my room.” You stated, heading towards the door to the training room, hearing Peter’s footsteps follow closely behind you. “I will not be held responsible if you lose a finger or get possessed by a Demon, got it?”

“Uh. . . did you say a Demon?!”

[ask-the-riders]

Liar, Liar

Another flashback sorta thing that I decided to write as a way to explore some different relationship dynamics :P

There's some recently introduced characters (Cobalt and Diamondback), one you already know and love (Othni), and an older one that I decided to revive (Valence), because why not

I'm gonna include some trigger warnings for a little blood, super light gore (if you wanna even call it that), some violence, and implied past abuse

"Does she know, Val?"

Valence ran a hand over his skull and let out a deep sigh, his magenta swirled eye lights constricted in fear as he paced around his living room. Avoiding looking at his companion as much as possible, he sputtered, "I-I don't think so. I wasn't being careless again, I swear!" Leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs, the demon arched a single brow, "For our sake, I hope you're telling the truth." He paused, vanishing into thin air and making the skeleton yelp and nearly stumble backwards as he reappeared, blocking his path. Backing Valence into a corner and making sure all possible escape routes were blocked, the demon leaned closer, his vibrant blue eyes becoming brighter as he lowered his voice, "For your sake, I hope you're telling me the truth. If you're lying to me again, I'll find out." 

The skeleton stared at him with wide, fearful eyes, his breathing momentarily coming to a halt. Remembering the last time the demon had caught him telling a lie, he nodded, hoping to convey that he understood. Feeling satisfied, the demon hummed, taking a step back as he continued watching his host. It was a while ago that the two of them had made that contract, and while they did occasionally bicker, they were normally on the same wavelength with one another. Val's gaze flickered back toward his kitchen, and as he lowered it to the tile floor, he took in the red liquid that had begun pooling in the spaces between the individual tiles. Part of an arm laid on the floor in the middle of the puddle, and a shape resembling a handprint stained his shirt, the bright crimson a stark contrast against the cream colored fabric. He had another mess to clean up now, and this time, he hadn't even been the one that'd made it.

Turning his back to the demon, he let out a deep breath and slipped into the kitchen, squatting in front of the sink and opening a set of wooden drawers, digging through various cleaning supplies. His companion quietly followed him, completely uncaring as he stepped in the pool of blood and crossed the kitchen, leaving behind a short trail of footprints. Seeing that Othni was, once again, trying to aggravate him, Val frowned, his brow bones becoming knit, "Do you mind? I'm trying to clean here." The demon stole a glance in his direction, a wide, almost manic smile slowly stretching across his face and putting his unnaturally sharp teeth on display, "Oh, I'm not in your way, am I? How rude of me." 

Val let out a soft, irritated growl in response, and Othni snorted in amusement, shaking his head. As Val returned to trying to ignore him, he dragged his clawed fingers over the surface of the kitchen table, leaving deep scratches in the wood. Hearing the sound, the skeleton finally shifted his attention back to Othni, immediately scowling as he took notice of the damage that was being done to his table. Careful not to step in the blood, he gave Othni a light shove and hissed, "Stop it, Othni. Can't you see that this is pointless? We made that deal in order to help each other, and you decide to damage my belongings because I'm not paying attention to you?" Othni arched an eyebrow again, quietly daring the skeleton to keep talking. With his mind clouded by anger and frustration, Val did just that, practically sneering at Othni, "You're no better than a spoiled child, I swear." 

An image flickered in Othni's mind of a middle aged human with dark, curly locks, scowling at him and shouting words that he couldn't quite make out. As the human lifted a hand and prepared to strike him, Othni's locks of hair that resembled the rounded ears of a big cat laid back flat against his head and he was on Val in an instant, one hand immediately seeking out his neck vertebrae. Feeling himself be lifted up off of the ground and slammed into a wall hard enough to cause a small crack to form in the back of his head, Valence let out a pained and startled yelp, instinctively trying to free himself from Othni's grip. The demon's eyes burned into him as he moved closer, only inches away from Val's face as he growled lowly, "Shut your mouth before I shut it for you, monster. If you even so much as think about speaking to me like that again, I'll-"

He was cut off as someone knocked on his front door and called out, "Hey Bandersnatch, are you in there?" Almost as quickly as he'd lifted Val up off of the floor, the demon set him down again and released his neck. His expression had completely shifted, no longer holding even a trace of anger, and he offered another sharp toothed grin to Val, tilting his head and murmuring, "Answer it, Valence. Go see what he wants." The skeleton hesitated, and then upon seeing that Othni had become docile again, he darted to a coat rack, nearly tearing a jacket off of it's peg and tugging it on, zipping it up just enough to hide the handprint that stained his shirt. The demon continued watching him, slinking back into the shadows as Valence made a beeline for the front door and answered it.

Making a face at the other male skeleton that stared back at him, he cleared his throat, "Oh. Hello there, Cobalt. How can I help you?" The skeleton in question eyed him for a moment, "Where were you a couple nights ago, at about this time?" Val blinked in confusion, "...I was here, preparing a dish for Banquet. Why do you care about my whereabouts all of a sudden?" Cobalt's gaze hardened and he stuffed a hand into one of his pockets, "No, you weren't. Try again." Val stared at him, clearly at a loss, "Would you just speak plainly, please? I have a lot on my mind and the last thing I want to do is play this stupid guessing game with you." The shorter of the two continued to watch him, his expression turning suspicious, "Fine. According to Glo, she bumped into you at the store. Said you had a big bag of cat food in your arms, which is odd, even for you. Considering that you don't have any cats, and all." 

Valence was frozen for a moment, having been caught off guard. Processing what the other had just said, he regarded him with clear disbelief, "So you think I'm lying about where I was? How do you know Glo wasn't the one lying? Don't tell me that you believe every word that leaves her mouth." Cobalt was unphased, pressing on just as confidently as before, "I take everything she says with a grain of salt. When she does lie, it's usually in a joking manner over something small and unimportant. Seeing you at the store would be a little too random for her to lie about, I think. You, however..." The guard paused, leaning a bit closer and inhaling deeply, "You could lie through your teeth, right here and now, simply for the hell of it. And then there's that disgusting stench you bring everywhere with you." 

The taller skeleton furrowed his brow bones, "Since you're so keen on sniffing me like some kind of dog, tell me, Cobalt. What stench do I have, hm? These clothes just came out of the dryer, and I took a shower as soon as I got home a little while ago." Cobalt frowned, narrowing his sockets at the other monster, "You reek of death... To be a little more specific, in case you don't understand that, there's always the faint scent of human blood wafting off of you. Sometimes when you start acting even weirder than normal, there's this gross, rotten fruit kind of smell there, too. Care to explain why you smell like blood?" Valence raised a single brow bone, "I stopped by that new meat place in town and picked up some beef. The butcher was a human, so maybe he cut himself or something while he was working." The guard scowled at him, his tone gaining a much sharper edge than before, "Wrong again. That's a monster shop, run only by monsters, not by humans. And also, cow blood is completely different from human blood. I've smelled both before, and they're really easy to tell apart." 

Valence unconsciously took a step back, his gaze darkening as he smirked, his own tone becoming malicious, "Because you've killed countless humans in the war, I know. Did you keep track of how many potentially innocent lives you took, or were you running solely off of mindless bloodlust?" Cobalt was momentarily taken aback, glancing away from Val, "...If it was up to me, I wouldn't have killed any of them. That's not the kind of guy I am." Valence shook his head, choosing to mock the soldier, "Oh, I know. The big bad, evil princess of darkness made you do it, didn't she? How truly awful of her. Does Chimera know what you've done?" Upon hearing his friend's name, Cobalt squared his shoulders and made a sound in confirmation, "Yeah, she knows. I make it a point not to keep secrets from her." 

The taller skeleton reached out, his grin condescending as he patted Cobalt's head and cooed, "Awe, how thoughtful of you. I'm glad you're so open with her!" Cobalt growled and slapped his hand away, glaring up at him. As the scent of rotting fruit began to waft out of the house, he hissed, "Listen, Val. You might've gone on a few dates with her, and yeah, she likes you, but I want you to stay away from her. I want you to stay away, and I want you gone." Valence smirked again, "And what'll you do if I stay? Are you going to run that blade of yours through my body and kill me like you did to those humans?" Cobalt faltered, and when words failed him, he summoned his sword and drew it, trying to maintain at least the appearance of being confident, "If that's what it takes to keep you away from Chimera, then yeah, I will. Something about you is off, and every time you're around, all the red flags immediately go up. I don't trust you, not even a little bit. I wouldn't trust you to take care of another person, let alone Chimera. She deserves so much better than lying, manipulative, scheming bastards like you." 

Another unseen person made a sound in agreement, "For once, I believe you're right. She does deserve better." Val jerked in surprise, momentarily freezing as a set of glowing green eyes peered at him from the shadows under a tree that sat in his yard. As the demon in the shadows presented himself, he crossed his arms over his chest, calmly approaching the two skeletons. As he drew nearer and nearer, Cobalt made a face, noticing the way the scent of rotting fruit began to rapidly fade away. Recognizing the demon almost immediately, Val scoffed, "Oh, please. The social reject is trying to tell me to stay away from Chimera now, too? Listen, buddy. This has nothing to do with you. It'd be in your best interest if you minded your own business." Diamondback tilted his head, "On the contrary, this has everything to do with me. You can either be a good little brat and get lost, or I'll have to teach you how to listen better. Which will it be?" Valence let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eye lights, "I'm not going anywhere, ok Gramps? This is my house, and this is where I live. Nothing is gonna change that. Not when I've already settled in so well." Without warning, Diamondback warped through the space between them, backing Val further into his house.

As Val tried to slam his front door shut, one of the demon's hands caught it and he hummed, "Please don't make this difficult. I'm really not in the mood to be doing this right now." Struggling with the door and quickly noticing how much stronger the demon was than him, Valence panicked and snapped, "Then why bother?! Just go home already!" Diamondback's body warped beneath the door easily in the form of a shadow, and before Val had any time to process what was happening, a hand gripped the front of his shirt, forcibly dragging him closer. Making sure to expose his fangs as he spoke, Diamondback hissed, "I don't appreciate you taking that tone with me, Valence. Bark one more order at me, and I'll be taking your jaw. Now, you already heard me when I told you to leave, correct?" 

The skeleton nodded, and Diamondback continued, "Good. I have another thing I'd like you to do for me, if you'd be so kind." Val nodded his head, his voice much softer than he would've liked, "Y-Yeah, sure. What is it?" Diamondback's bored, slightly annoyed expression shifted, a knowing look in his eyes as he offered Val a small smirk, flashing his fangs at him again, "Tell Othni that he's not very good at hiding. Even if I can't see him, I can smell him, and he smells like shit."