#They really did that red thread of fate thing with them huh

[asarigg]

Inside the Character's Mind: Part 6

CHILDHOOD. SLY AND KOUJAKU. THE AVOIDANT BEHAVIOR: part 3

As if all that wasn’t already enough, at the end of the Re:connect, this happens. Aoba thinks to himself that this is not what Koujaku wanted, as much as Sly wants to think that it is, that he’s in the right. As if what he has done has helped the Koujaku inside, the one who’s like him, the true Koujaku, to come out. As if they could be free inside that cell.

Koujaku reacts to Aoba’s thoughts. Sly thinks for a moment that it’s his imagination, but when Aoba repeats his thoughts, Koujaku says his name. Koujaku, who despite not having articulated a single word all this time, weeks, months, says his name as soon as Aoba “speaks”, that’s what I’m talking about when I mention their spiritual connection, that’s how strong it is. It happening after such a different sex scene, where neither of them can say no, nor show any kind of rejection, is just a reminder that they are both locked away, suffering, and that they will stay there watching this happen day after day until the day they die, not being able to see, or touch, or call each other’s names, or say “I love you” or anything they once wanted to say. They can only just watch each other wither away.

These thoughts of “This isn’t what Koujaku wanted” are very interesting because just like Sly thought, Koujaku really wanted Aoba to accept and love him. But the last thing he wants is having Aoba reciprocate him just because that’s what Koujaku wants. He’d rather be rejected, and even die in the extreme case of the situation hurting Aoba, than having him living something he doesn’t really want, that he doesn’t feel in his heart. Giving himself to Koujaku letting him do whatever he wants without thinking twice, without thinking about his own wishes. A life that doesn’t respect Aoba’s wishes is a nightmare for him. Just like he says in the confession scene “All I can remember is that I didn’t want to touch you like that”.

I mentioned that they don’t treat the tattoo as something that changed Koujaku, but as someone else inside his mind. When Sly appears before him, Koujaku immediately knows that he’s not Aoba, but has a hard time believing it, because physically he’s the same but white. He doesn’t know what’s going on, he can’t process it, but he knows. And the thoughts that tell him that the man in front of him is not Aoba are in red, like someone else’s, with some lowercase and some uppercase, growing more intense as the madness and anger of his tattoo reflects through. Doesn’t it remind you of how Sly’s thoughts appeared in the middle of the screen when Aoba was in charge?

Sometimes I wonder what Sly’s real intention was here. In theory he wants to break Koujaku and bring out the beast because that’s the part of Koujaku that he sees himself reflected in, that destructive entity, his darkest, true side, his pure animal instinct. Exactly what Sly is.

But he still tells the sane Koujaku that he loves him and wants to convince him that he’s Aoba. If that had worked then what would he do next? Because he truly believes that’s what he wanted to hear, and when the narration returns to his point of view he tells us that his love for Koujaku is true. Obviously locked in a cell it would be difficult for anyone to believe him, and Sly wouldn’t get him out of there anyway when he wants to keep Koujaku for himself. But then why does he keep trying to convince him, over and over again, even when Koujaku still doesn’t recognize him as Aoba any time he wakes up? Would he have been satisfied with a sane Koujaku, with those restrictions he hates, just because he accepted his words? It’s only when he sees that Koujaku won’t buy it, no matter what he tells him, that he changes his strategy.

And it’s in this scene that we see Koujaku in control for the last time, and again the last thing he says before losing his mind is Aoba’s name. This ending makes us see how Koujaku once again enters a cycle of abuse. He has gone from being his father’s slave, to Ryuuhou’s, and now Sly’s, and he will probably never get out of that cell alive. He no longer has prayer beads protecting him, only chains imprisoning him.

Sly is aware of what he has done, and he believes that since he has destroyed Koujaku’s consciousness/spirit, it’s only fair that he is the one to destroy his body, not only fair but it even seems like an attractive idea, to die at his hands (Sly try not to be Ryuuhou challenge). I really like this dialogue where Sly tells Koujaku that he can tear off his flesh if he wants, on the condition that he stays. Staying with him, a reflection of his desire to feel loved, accepted, after so many years of abandonment. After hearing Koujaku speak back to Aoba, it must feel like a punch to the stomach to think for a moment that he’s wrong with what he’s chosen for the two of them, to think that Koujaku doesn’t really love him.

Having him locked in a cage somehow is perfect to prevent the slightest chance of Koujaku walking away, as well as keeping him in this state, unable to speak, unable to think, unable to reject him. It’s because of these things that I usually think that at least at the beginning the relationship with Koujaku in a good ending would be quite turbulent. He would like to flirt with Koujaku, but when he realizes that he really feels love for him, he feels vulnerable, weak, and needs to protect himself because the people who were supposed to always be with him and protect him, abandoned him. And Koujaku somehow “abandoned” him once too. So before exposing himself to that, he would rather push Koujaku away. Sly would always come back to him, because as much as he wants to walk away he can’t, he needs Koujaku to stay by his side. It doesn’t matter if it’s love or hate, Sly will take it because it’s intense, real and raw.

Fun fact: Sly and Beast Koujaku both have golden eyes, when they “transform”. Everyone has those three sides of their conscience but Aoba’s just have a distinct personality and identity each, which I think might lead to thinking that beast Koujaku might have a personality of his own. I think he’s somewhere in between, he’s obviously not like them, but he’s definitely his own entity. Like some kind of natural force, like rain, wind, the energy of the cosmos, possessing him, something more abstract than a spirit or god, which we usually see as human or animal-like appearance wise.

The first thing that strikes us when we see Aoba is that his design radically changes. When Sly takes control of his body it’s not like he suffers any physical changes, besides the shine of his eyes, however here he turns completely white. The only time we see something like that happen is when we see the true forms of Sei and Aoba, but those black marks don’t appear. This is what makes me wonder if the white color has something to do with those forms, as if it were some kind of symbolism of Sly “breaking free” and being himself, without restrictions, without Reason, but they don’t add the black marks to not spoil it, or because it looks like shit with the design, or because it simply has nothing to do with that.

The white color is the color of death, mourning, the color with which the deceased are dressed. A sterile color, without impurities, highly related to the spiritual world. Many white flowers are commonly used in funerals, usually Buddhist, such as the white chrysanthemum, used for its meaning of truth and sincerity. Aoba wears a white kimono and also gives one to Koujaku. These traditional elements could be there just to remember Koujaku but nothing in this document could ever be simple of course.

The hair of a dead person is considered to turn white after a certain period of time, meaning that the hair is no longer a source of impurities, it can't be possessed by an evil spirit, and can be transported beyond the border that marks the separation between the sacred realm of the dead and the ordinary world of the living.

His skin, his characteristic blue hair, his eyes and his clothes turn completely white because at this point Aoba is no longer there. Not in a literal sense, of course, but in a figurative sense, Aoba is dead. And this is basically the same thing that happens with Koujaku. They are both reborn, destroyed, spiritually dying so that something else can be created, the ID, the instinct of destruction, the two beasts freed from the bodies that held them prisoners.

His clothes in general resemble those of a Miko, with a more “fantastical” and sexualized appearance. This post talks about it as well. Again it’s a reference to the spiritual realm, their religious side and how Aoba/Sly is an object of devotion, of how Aoba is somewhat a channeler for Koujaku. Just like there are rituals that call the gods to our world, like I’ve said in the section about hair, which serves as a connection with gods, Aoba is the only thing that connects Koujaku with this world, the only reason why he’s still alive.

[terrence-silver]

Could you write something about Terry's youngest daughter asking him for a bedtime story and the story she wants to hear is how Terry met beloved?

-"Daddy, how did you know, though?"-

-"I knew."-

-"Yeah, but, how?"-

Dusk rituals in his mansion estate household were very much the same every evening accompanied by stories, anecdotes and tall tales he'd tell, legs sprawled out and crossed on a child's plush bed, still carrying the sweat, cologne and salt of the lingering daylight and his time at the dojo, surrounded by an array of pillows, throws and stuffed animals of the serpentine variety (much to his pleasure and amusement) being invaded with a ricochet of questions that to his shock somehow always ended up being more complex, philosophical, clever and thought provoking than he'd ever hoped for from a kid, yet unsurprisingly, coming from his child, his flesh, his cunning little snakey, Terry ponders the answer on just how he was left certified the one was the one. How did he know? -"Your blood,"- There it is, sharp intake of breath as he speaks to the small being leaning on his shoulder, listening intently, never blinking, as if those eyes were ready to dry out the secrets of the universe. -"It tells you. It's an underling instinct."- He explains the concept that was drawing dangerous close to describing love at first sight. To describing pheromones. The birds and the bees. Something akin to destiny, possession, the red thread of fate, soulmates, natural attraction and absolute belonging. -"What's instinct?"- His princess asks as an immediate retort, peering up at him, ever so curious and inquisitive.

Ah yes. How would Terry describe instinct to a small child?

-"Darkness. The need to hide from what's out there."- He starts out simple and small, taking the soft end of the blanket and tucking it over a tiny, huddled body, cozying in his princess nicely as he speaks, keeping her snug and toasty. -"A gazelle running from a Cheetah."- He adds knowingly; that was a commonplace, near mundane example that could've been easily lifted straight out National Geographics. A hunter takes chase and it was simply the prey's cognitive, primal instinct to take flight in order to survive. He witnessed it firsthand on a Safari one time back in '82 over some Cuban cigars and champagne. -"The human eye evolving to recognize patterns in nature as a way to ward off from predators."- Terry blurts out finally, feeling extremely proud of that one, realizing too late his sweetheart undoubtedly didn't really understand what that all meant by her drowsy, discontent expression on the tender, plush pillow lined with a frame of lacy ribbons. He relents and tries again, employing the trappings of a Sensei to achieve an end goal. She was six and way past her bedtime after all. There would be time to discuss the nuances of human relations some other time. -"Breathing, that's instinct too. Don't have to think about it, huh? It just happens. Happens for free."- Terry taps the tip of her nose with a bejewelled forefinger for special emphasis. Can't believe he just said that. Happens for free. Yet somehow, it fit.

-So, when you met mom, you didn't think about it?"-

She interjects and there Terry halts, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Yeah.

Yeah, that was about the jist of it.

Seeing someone and finding them so appealing to the eyes, to the nervous system, to the hormones, to the heart, mind and soul he dared say, that upon speaking to them, face to face, realizing all the chemicals in the body appeal to the brain as well, the potent cocktail having every semblance of a thunderbolt and static electricity. Enjoying their scent and their visage and their voice and concluding, that's mine and I'll have it. But, he couldn't put it quite as explicitly or graphically to a child. That was he was contemplating all the carnal principles of lust with their mother on the spot. That he was contemplating telling every bad thing he's every did on the off chance they'll accept him for it. Instead, all Terry tactically says is. -"I didn't have to think, no."- He leans forward with a smile, planting a kiss on her forehead. -"I just took."- Terry whispers, clicking off the lamp on the nightstand and concluding that that too could've been explicit, depending how one interpreted it. -"And that's how you kiddos happened."- He stands up on the partial darkness of the room illuminated solely by the light from the hallway peeking through the door left ajar; this being the last child's room Terry visited for the night, the others lining the foyer, already fast asleep. She closes her eyes as he turns to leave her. She was the youngest, yet always went to bed last, wrestling that bit of control away from him.

He bids his snakey goodnight, content with the explanation.

[wangshuus]

no love left | diluc ragnvindr

pairing: diluc ragnvindr/gn. reader

genre: angst

wc: 3.2k

cw: mild cussing, brief mentions of violence, probably lore breaking too lol. 

summary: falling out of love is painful but maybe it’s what you needed.

note: please read the authors note after the story ESPECIALLY if you’re confused because i’ve implemented a few odd aspects into this story. i was just typing out whatever so essentially it’s more word vomit (again lol) but uhh yeah. most of the important stuff is at the bottom so like i said before, read that authors note at the end!!

lightly proofread, please don’t mind any errors

fic below the cut.

When the esteemed bachelor Diluc Ragnvindr finally settled down with a lover, the news did not fail to spread across Mondstadt like a wildfire. It was the talk of town for who knows how long but as time passed, the people settled down and the buzz eventually died but no one ever failed to acknowledge the young Ragnvindr and his beloved when they were together. Although the two preferred to keep a composed look to the public eye, the admiration they held for each other burned as bright as a summers day in their eyes at all times when they were together; from that alone, anyone could tell they were in love

So where did it all go wrong?

You sat across from Diluc at a table in the winery, the air thick with a suffocating tension that felt like it was going to swallow you whole at any minute now. Your hands rested on the table in front of you as you barely managed to keep your hands from trembling as a storm of emotions stirred inside of you as you felt your composure on the brink of cracking any second. You decided to finally break the silence as you spoke up, a slight tremble in your voice.

“What is it Diluc? Huh? I was hoping you’d have the decency to speak up about whatever the hell is going on instead of leaving me in the dark but it’s been far too long now. Now tell me Diluc, what’s going on?”

Oh the way your words slipped from your mouth made the room feel so cold, even if you didn’t wield a vision of any sorts. Diluc took a deep breath before he decided to speak up.

“What went on between the two of us was purely business.” Was the simple statement he gave.

Was?

“They’ve shown themselves to be quite the individual, wielding good etiquette with both business and a weapon.” He spoke out once more.

“God sake Diluc you’re fucking stalling at this point. You know what, I’ll make it easier for you. Do you still love me?”

There was a pause. A long painful pause. You already had your answer.

“(Y/n), I still care for you more than you can ever imagine, I truly do.”

The words felt like knives piercing through your form and from that, you felt the first tear slip down your face.

“Diluc, are you even aware of how terrible I feel in this situation right now? I’m watching my lover from a far doing lord knows what and you expect me to just tolerate it? I trusted you enough which is why I never pried at it but fuck Diluc, it’s just unbearable at this point.”

“I never did act upon anything in fears of making the situation worse--” You cut him off.

“Making the situation worse huh? So you were out here trying to do some crowd control weren't you? Was if for the sake of not hurting me or or for the sake of not tainting your pristine reputation?”

“I said before, I really do care for you still.” His hand reached towards your own as he held your hand with utmost gentleness. You were almost convinced he still loved you as much as he did in the past.

“However, I can’t deny that our dynamic has indeed changed. I…” His grip on your hand tightened.

“I can’t lie to you and say that I love you the way I did before.”

There it was.

“You don’t look at me the way you used to, you know? Your eyes used to be so full of love whenever you looked at me but that look is reserved for someone else now, isn’t it? You’ve looked at me with nothing but sorrow and pity nowadays and I guess my assumptions of the worst were correct.” You said as your voice trembled even more.

You wanted to pull your hand away so badly, the hand that once brought you such warmth now felt as if it was searing your skin. But you couldn’t. Not when this was mostly likely the last time you’d ever feel such an intimate touch from him. You found yourself to be conflicted as to whether you wanted to pull away out of pure frustration or savour the moment as it could be the last of him you would ever get to have for yourself.

“(Y/n), from the bottom of my heart, I’m truly sorry. I’ve loved you for so long and you’ve given me more love than I could’ve ever imagined. I never wanted things to change but I suppose fate had other plans. I’ll never stop caring for you however, I’m afraid I’ve stopped loving you in the way you’re used to.”

The truthful words were ones that felt like hell to swallow. You didn’t want to believe it but you knew damn well he was telling the truth. The sincerity and softness in his voice made it so hard to be completely mad at him. He was so gentle with his words but the truth of them did nothing but make your heart hurt and ache. An empty chuckle left your lips as your features were now graced with a bittersweet smile.

“Ah, I think I would’ve appreciated it if you were meaner with your responses. Maybe then I wouldn’t have such a hard time letting you go.” You finally managed to look him in the eyes, his reflection showing on your glossy orbs.

He felt his own heart churn with remorse and guilt, seeing as he terribly hurt the one person that he had sworn to love and protect for the rest of his days. He felt sick over the fact he failed to keep part of the promise-- the part where he said that he would continue to love you.

That was one of the last times you had ever seen Diluc Ragnvindr.

--

Your body shook as the freezing temperatures of Dragonspine overtook your senses. You sat up against a rock, your back leaning onto it as you struggled to keep yourself upright. You were barely holding on by a thread as you physically felt numb. However, your mind swirled with a storm of emotions, almost as strong as the last day you had seen your ex-lover but this time, you reminisced on your time as you felt like this would be your final moments.

You pondered over the fact that this might’ve been the reason that he no longer loved you in the way you wished to be loved by him. You wanted his affections, you wanted his love, you wanted him. But you were too weak. That was it. He let you go for someone that was strong, so very strong; both mentally and physically. God, you couldn’t even compare to the likes of them, being nothing but a measly old adventurer, one that wasn’t even fortunate enough to wield a vision. You were nothing but weak in your own eyes; that's what brought you to your demise.

In your hands, you clutched one of the last treasures you had found in the cursed mountains. It was a pretty little collar that held a jewel that twinkled so beautifully despite the dull, hazy environment.

“You do not wish to be weak anymore do you, little one? Do not be afraid, put me on and I’ll grant you the desires you so wish to obtain. Abide by my rules and obtain for me the essence of life and together, we can make sure that everyone will hail before you.”

A voice echoed inside your head as your mind began to spiral. All morals, memories and feelings began to drown out until you were barely hanging on by thread.

“Hurry, time is of the essence! Quick!”

With little energy you had left, you were able to hang the new found possession around your neck. The second you let go of the clips that held the piece together, you felt a tight constriction around your neck, the feeling was suffocating. Just like the last time you had seen Diluc. For a moment, you thought of the red haired male you once held to dear and close to your heart. It ached for him once more in that very moment because he was the very essence of warmth and it was something that you so desired in such a moment like this. The way he held you against him in the coldest of nights in an attempt to keep you warm and oh how it worked wonderfully. It was a memory that slowly faded away with your conscience. Your hands graced themselves lightly around your neck as you struggled to breathe even more than before, your body finally running out of any sort of energy as you fell limp against the cold and soft snow.

Anything. From this point on, you would do anything to get stronger. You no longer cared for any mishaps that happened along the way. You had no love left, nothing but the hunger for power that drowned out the aching void that was now left behind after everything was torn away from you.

“Sorry... to also have you shoulder the grievances of the world. Since you could endure my bitter cold, you must have the desire to burn? Then, burn away the old world for me.”

Within the bustling harsh winds of the Dragonspine mountains laid a girl with a jewelled necklace as well as a cold, icy blue orb that shined brightly against the blizzards.

--

“The expedition out in Dragonspine was a complete disaster! The winds were harsher than usual and how could we predict such a nasty storm would’ve been upon us? We planned so far ahead and yet it ended up utterly terrible.” One of the adventurers commented as they were in the process of recovering after descending from the unforgiving mountains.

“Did everyone that went on the expedition come back? There’s absolutely no way we can risk going up there again, at least not for a while.” Another commented.

There was an excruciating silence within the camp.

“Has anyone seen (Y/n)?”

--

Diluc had set out once the late hours of the night and the early hours of the morning came upon him. He continued to lurk from the shadows and deal with whatever trivial matters that had to be dealt with in the dead of night as he always did. He had heard of a few nuisances that arose near the outskirts of Dragonspine that hadn’t been dealt with yet. Of course the knights wouldn’t bother with this anyways, as per usual what he thought to himself.

Though the male held a pyro vision, the sharp and bitter cold of Dragonspine was something that never failed to make him uncomfortable.

He swiftly made his way to the location, being stealthy and fast with his movements in an attempt to get the job done faster to refrain from being caught. Once he had made his way to the destination, he remained hidden while he examined the area. In the far distance, he saw camps, hilichurl as well as Fatui camps that were not too far off. His face held a look of distaste as his eyes laid upon the familiar trademark symbol of the Snezhnayan organization.

Just as he was about to step out and deal with the hilichurl camp himself, a figure emerged from afar and into the camp. The movements of said person were agile, fast and swift, ice shards being directed in the direction of every living being on the camp. A blizzard stirred so fiercely upon the camp and as the barbaric bitter winds of the snow died down, there was almost nothing left of the camp that once stood there.

Not a single soul.

Diluc very cautiously moved closer to get a better look at the strange person that appeared before him. His eyes widened in disbelief as he started to make out the figure, his mind refusing to believe what he saw in front him, almost regretting letting his curiosity get the best of him.

“I wasn’t aware that you people are unable to take care of a measly little hilichurl camp. I specifically stated to clear the area before anything else and you couldn’t even follow instructions as simple as that, or perhaps I wasn’t clear enough with my statement?” An icy voice boomed out towards a trio of Fatui skirmishers.

That voice was all too familiar to Diluc. It was so familiar yet it sounded so different, so harsh, so cold. Yet, it was the voice that confirmed his unruly suspicions.

“Make up for your poor performance by getting the camps set up in a decent manner at the very least. I’d rather spare myself the trouble of punishing the likes of you people. You don’t wish to cross me any further, do you?” A cold, hard glare very evident on your fact that was directed to the three in front of you.

They frantically shook their heads, sputtering out a series apologies in an attempt to ease your annoyance.

“Make use of yourselves and set up immediately. By the time I come back to supervise the area, everything should be set up in a manner that is nothing less than perfect. If you wish to please me this time, do as you’re told this time. Now go.” You shook them off with a wave of a hand as they saw themselves away in an instant.

You took your time to avoid the now empty camp that rid itself of almost all remains. A hand placed itself atop the jewel that gracefully sat between your collarbones. The voices that swirled in your head chanting for more power and more life eventually died down as the constrictions of your beloved collar began to loosen, just enough so you could breathe. You let out a breathe that you had been holding before regaining your composure. You stood up straight with a proud stature before speaking out.

“I know you are there, may as well come forth voluntarily unless you want be to bring you out myself.”

Diluc’s blood ran cold when he realized that that you were most likely referring to him, baffled at how you were able to pick up on his own presence. He cautiously revealed himself and made his way a little closer to you. The second you laid eyes on the redhead, you felt like your world stopped for a second. The initial shock was replaced with amusement as the scene unfolded in front of you.

“And to think that last time we saw each other would be the last.” You said before bitterly chuckling.

Diluc took some time to muster up words and recover from his initial shock.

“You never came back from that mission. You were claimed to be dead by the guild the day after and yet here you are. The people mourned over you. I mourned for you. What has become of you, (Y/n)?” Diluc spoke out, pain and sadness laced within his tone.

“Ha, they mourned? As well as yourself? Don’t make me laugh Ragnvindr. Was your mourning perhaps an act in an attempt to keep up your reputation. Would not surprise me in the slightest if that were the case. I refuse to accept the pity of others, and I absolutely detest if it is empty and meaningless. Pity is for those who are weak and as far as I’m concerned--”

You stepped closer to Diluc before you continued.

“I’m not weak anymore.”

“(Y/n), you were never weak--” Diluc said before he was cut off.

“Bullshit Ragnvindr. Utter bullshit.” You harshly spat.

“I wasn’t able to handle myself before. I was nothing but weak. It was one of the reasons you fell out of love with me, was it not? You wanted a strong individual that could take care of themselves and you sure got one, but it wasn’t me at the time. Look now Ragnvindr, I am strong now.”

He took a better look at you as the realization of your position has begun to sink in.

“You... you’re…” In one of the rare times of his life, he was at a loss for words.

“Ah, Ah, Cat got your tongue? Poor boy can’t even muster up any words.” You chuckled mockingly.

“Fatui Harbinger, Ragnvindr. Number 12. Surely you’ve heard right?” You boldly stated.

Yes, he did hear. The Tsaritsa had taken another Harbinger under her wing yet the news and information of said Harbinger was extremely scarce and yet, No.12 stood right before Diluc.

No.12 was once his own beloved.

“What exactly led to all of this? What caused all of this to happen? What have you done to yourself?” The questions kept pouring out from Diluc’s mouth.

“It was quite simple. I got sick and tired of being weak and having things being taken from me. I have lost too many things to count and I have sacrificed many things to become who I am today. I do not regret a single thing I have done since I have started being selfish and being selfish has kept me from getting hurt again. I do not need you anymore, I do not need anyone in fact. I live for myself and to serve the needs of the Tsaritsa to repay her for giving me a chance to live the way I should’ve been all along.” You look at him with a taunting smirk on your face.

The (Y/n) (L/n) that was once known to be the beloved of Diluc Ragnvindr was dead. They died the moment you stepped out of the winery for the very last time. You were (Y/n), No.12 of the Fatui Harbingers. You were the one that sacrificed yourself to a curse upon the Dragonspine mountains in exchange for power to fill the void that was left behind. You no longer had the longing for love; you had none left after all. You craved for power and leverage over others and you refused to let people trample over you like they did before. You refused to be weak again. With the help of your new found vision as well as the curse that now burdened you, you would conquer the world and burn the old one away, along with your old self.

With no love left, there was nothing left to lose after all.

A/N: SOOOO the whole choker thing might be a little confusing but BASICALLY i took the whole concept from the “Love me, Love me, Love me.” song where the girl gets that cursed necklace/choker and i changed the concept around a little bit so that in exchange for power, dear reader has to basically slaughter things to keep the choker from killing them LOL (I’m tired pls my mind if SPIRIALING rn lmfao)

the italics in the second chunk are the weird choker speaking to the reader since it's a whole ‘curse’ thing and the bold italics in the second chunk is basically a quote from genshin from the cryo gemstone thingies and i used it to signify the reader getting a cryo vision^^ there’s a lot i wanna say but i’m too lazy to elaborate sorry lol. kinda feel like making more parts to this bc i feel like the story could go one but ehhh we’ll see how I’m feeling. i really just wanted to make a oneshot where the reader goes batshit after so ahahahahhaha. (also this fic feels lore breaking as fuck but its ok LMAO)

[mysticalsashaxoxo]

TALES THROUGH TIME, CHAPTER 1: MORNING AFTER

SUMMARY: Why was Gangtae miffed the morning after?

Sunlight drifted softly through the windows brushing the lids of his eye, waking him from his slumber. Noticing the weight and warmth on his shoulder he looked down, he could smell her scent before even catching sight of her.

On the crook of his neck lies the woman who wrecked his life. Blowing the barriers he built like a bomb she claimed to be.

Before her he didn’t know that the protective walls around him was the very thing that weighs him down, and with the burden finally lifted — he felt free.

He didn’t know one could feel this light.

Her tightened hold pulled his drifting thoughts back. He felt her lightly stir but instead of waking up she just nuzzled closer to him. Feeling the softness of her naked skin under the sheets made him remember the things that occurred last night.

The slow kisses, the light touches — the soft whimpers and the rough scratches. He remembers it all. How could he forget when for him it was more than just sharing the bed. Last night seems to be the culmination of every moment they had, both the good and the bad.

The day before he wasn’t even sure if he could win her back, not when she was so adamant to make an end of what he once called ill-fate. Something he deeply regretted.

What he feels for her was something he never felt for anyone before. Smiling to himself he pulled her closer. Letting her fingertips thread through her hair.

Now that he got her where he wanted her to be, he’ll see to it that he’ll love her doubts away.

He let himself sleep until the rays became too strong to ignore. Besides, he could already feel his stomach rumble. He’s hungry — which wasn’t at all surprising given the activities they did.

They had a long night, and if he was hungry, he’s pretty sure she is too.

Thinking of getting up to prepare a meal that could replenish them before she wakes, he tried to slowly pull his arm out from under her head but he felt resistance. When he tried again he felt her nails dug on his waist. That’s when he realized that her companion was awake. When he looked down to see she had the audacity to pretend she wasn’t, opting to bury herself on his chest to avoid his inquisitive gaze.

“You’re awake aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled at her childish antics before flipping them over. Enjoying the little gasp of surprise she let out when he hovered over her.

Now she couldn’t hide from him.

Oh she was beautiful, gleaming and glowing with a hint of red tinting her cheeks. It makes him want to keep her away from anything and everything and just have her here under him. The urge was too strong, without thinking he leaned down and gave her a long lingering kiss.

“Good morning.” He breathlessly whispered after breaking the kiss.

She just hummed and gave him a smile so sweet, he had to hold himself back lest they would spend the whole day in this room and he knows they couldn’t do that — his brother would be back.

But he also couldn’t pull away so with a groan he just let himself fall down and rest on top of her. Enjoying the feel of her supple skin against his, letting his nose glide on the column of her neck.

Just for a little more while he wanted to prolong this moment.

Feeling her fingers thread from his nape to his hair he sighed.

“How are you feeling?” He mumbled on her neck, he couldn’t help but ask when he saw the peeking marks on her chest.

“I’m feeling good.” She instantly replied, voice still laced with sleep.

They never really talked about it but somehow he knew that she knew that he was no expert in this area.

Though he never run out of woman throwing themselves at him, all the years he spent caring for his brother made it almost impossible for him to indulge to his worldly needs.

There might have been someone whom he shared a kiss or more but he never once gave his all. Too afraid of any repercussions that might occur had something gone accidentally wrong, he tried his best to resist any temptation thrown at him until it became second nature to him.

Until her.

The thought made him hold on her even tighter, burying himself in their embrace.

As if she felt his unspoken inhibition she slowly moved her hands to cup his face, thumbs running circle through his cheeks.

His eyes were glazed with uncertainty, if she wasn’t feeling merciful she would have rolled her eyes at him.

Was he seriously doubting himself when she never felt so spent before? He was being utterly ridiculous.

He might have grown into a man but he is still a boy who wants to be loved.

How can she put his mind at ease? This was something new to her since she never felt the need to consider someone else before, but with him she always wanted to. She always tried to.

Thinking of something to say she smiled, her eyes were shining so bright it almost blinded him.

“Gangtae?”

“Hmmm?”

“You are the best ride I ever had.”

That would put him at ease. She thought as she relaxed, loving the feel of his hard tone chest against hers.

But then she felt him go rigid, he then pulled away briefly meeting her eyes before looking away — expression sour, if not dark.

Wait, did she say something wrong? Wasn’t he supposed to be happy with what she said?

Silence filled the air until he spoke.

“How many were there?” He then uncomfortably asked, still not meeting her gaze.

She looked at him with blinking eyes until realization dawned at her.

This behavior of his always baffled her.  He could hold himself back with almost anything — but not this, never this.

His jealousy.

It was something he couldn’t hide no matter how much he tried.

Seeing him like this always amuses her, at times she would even intentionally rile him up just to see his flare of emotions — just like what she did the last time they went to the coffee shop.

Something about him reacting like this makes her feel good, was it wrong for her to feel that way she wondered.

"Sorry, forget that I asked." He sullenly replied as he sat up by the edge of the bed, planting his feet on the floor, obviously brooding.

She shook her head at his absurdity. How was he feeling insecure when nothing and no one from her past could compare to what he just gave her?

He was the very thing she asked the moon.

His broad back marred with red marks that was probably a result of all her scratching last night was a sinful sight. He always look scrumptious from behind. She couldn't help but follow him suit. Pulling the blanket around her, she hugged him from behind.

"You're jealous aren't you?" She asked from which he just sighed. "Just be good to me? Hmm?" she added, using the words he did last night.

He knew he was being ridiculous right now, so he heaved a deep breath before looking back and pulling her to his lap. Silently cradling her close to calm his raging heart.

"Gangtae, Are you seriously worrying about that?" She asked, not even hiding her mirth much to his annoyance. "Shouldn't I be worried about you? You're too good for someone who claims to be —“

"Can you not—“

"But it's true—“

"Yah—“

"Tell me how many were there?"

"Munyeong—“

"Where do they live—“

"Stop—“

"I'll tell you my body count if you tell me yours—“

He had to kiss her to shut her up, He would never know how this woman came to know how to push all his buttons to rile him up. Lingering a bit he sighed and looked down, glaring at the obviously amused vixen in his arms.

"I think there were about 20—“

"Can you drop it already—“

"Or was it 30?"

"I said—“

"Wait, are you only asking for men? should I include the women?"

"Are you seriously—“

Seeing his flabbergasted expression she chuckled and took mercy on her sulking lover.

"They're nothing compared to you so stop sulking already." She said as she cradled his jaw with her palm. “Besides, last night is all I could remember.”

Hearing that he let out another sigh, There's nothing he could really do about the past, what he should focus on is what they have right now and what they will have in the future.

He will see to it that he'll do his best.

Until he's all she can remember.

"Wait. So you did compare huh?"

"Oh shut up and just kiss me."

END.

[nuttytani]

Just like a movie

fandom: ikevamp

pairing: vlad x gn!reader 

words: 2000+

warnings: mentions of food and that's pretty much it

a/n- this was my secret santa gift for my dear friend: @jiyuu-chan ! + if you enjoyed it; feedback is highly appreciated!

People say that you are meant to meet a special someone in your life. Someone who would change everything, who would complete you like a piece of a puzzle- someone you are destined to be with from the moment you are born, a string of fate tying you closer.

Soulmates have a special bond with each other; a red string that is attached to their pinky- which can only be seen by them. Such is drilled into every child’s brain from a young age.

When you were younger, your father would always tell you stories of how he had met his soulmate, his wife...your mother. It was otherworldly he said, like nothing else- an indescribable moment, and he wanted you to just know when you had met yours.  

“One day, you’ll also meet your one and only, sweetheart!”

“Really? But…. how will I know?”

“Really! It’s simple. You’ll see a red-,” your dad said- looking a little too excited.

“DARLING- STOP! DIDN’T WE DISCUSS THIS!?? Don’t annoy the poor child…,” your mother screeched from the kitchen as she stormed to your place- giving her husband a sharp look before turning to look at you,  “sweety- you’ll know when that day comes, alright? Why don’t you go play, hmm?”

You only nodded meekly, and rushed upstairs- glad to have your dad stop talking. Your parents’ banter was now muffled, but your mind was clouded with thoughts of what your father was about to say. Perhaps your mother was right...it’s better not to know to keep the moment special.

As you grew up, from kindergarten, primary school to highschool and finally college; you stood by and watched most of your friends find their other half- until you were the only one left. You’d always feel a dull pang in your heart...what if you were destined to be alone for life? When were you going to meet your soulmate? Will people keep on taunting you? These thoughts would lurk in your head, until you couldn’t think anymore. But now you were older and more carefree than before, such thoughts didn’t bother you any longer- at least not completely.

Every once in a while, your family and friends would dreamily tell you about their experience, while you’d just listen and nod. An exhausting cycle, where all your concerns would come rushing back to you. Then, of course, they’d never forget to ask about your nonexistent love life... It wasn’t fun to watch them shoot you a sympathetic smile and say “don’t worry, your time will come soon!”

Truly, having a soulmate or not didn’t matter to you, at least that’s what you think. It wasn’t uncommon for few people to be ‘alone’ although that was quite rare and an unfortunate occurrence. Why was it so hard for people to leave you alone? Real life isn't a romantic movie, like everyone would depict it as.

“There we go! I think that’s it now,” the strawberry brunette sighed as he placed the vase of wildflowers on the coffee table. 

“Finally! I’m so tired,” you groaned, slipping to the floor as your back pushed against the couch.

Fumbling with the book in your hands, you motioned the man to sit beside you- not too long after, he too sat lamely next to you on the cold hardwood. Exactly five hours passed since you and your friend Charles began organizing your new house. The two of you were working nonstop- tirelessly to get the place looking more liveable and comfortable. It was a struggle, but the effort was worth it.

“You know...you owe me for this big time,” Charles announced cheekily.

“Spill it. What do you want Charlot?” Brows shot up your forehead, you knew that smile all too well.

“First of all...stop calling me ‘Charlot’ it’s weird! Only Faust calls me that. And to answer your question- I would like to eat your pancakes.” He flashed you a toothy grin.

“Sure whatever you say Charlot,” you snickered, “with coffee?”

“Uh-huh!”

With a roll of your eyes, you stood up and threw the book on the couch before heading to the kitchen. Straight away- you pulled out the mixing bowl and sieved the dry ingredients, while humming to a tune that was stuck in your head.

About a week had passed since you moved into your new house, it was a decent place and safe neighbourhood. But the best part about it was the fact that your house was a five minute walk from town. That meant no more lazy drives to the market, quite the bonus actually.

Remembering a task- you shouted to Charles, “Can you be a sweetheart and do me a favour?”

“Ask away child, your wish is my command,” he said with a flourish of his hands.

“Haha very funny- go get the mail”

“No no no- you’re forgetting something. What’s the magic word~” he sang in a high pitch.

“...Monsieur Charlie, can you please get the mail,” you huffed in annoyance.

Sounds of pancake sizzling and boiling of the kettle filled the kitchen, you were too busy flipping the pancake to notice Charles' presence back in the living room. His eyes were squinting hard at the brown box and some mail sitting snugly between his arms. He looked back and forth between the parcel and your back before he cleared his throat, capturing your attention.

“Hey uhh...is your home address 216b?”

“No. It’s 215b- why do you ask?”

“Are you sure? Because your mail says-”

Before the man could complete his sentence; you snatched the package from him- your eyes widening momentarily.

“I suppose the addresses got mixed up…” Charles muttered

“Yea looks like it…”

The two of you just stared at the package, not knowing what to do. Your first thought was to drop it off at the right address. The house was just in front of yours, it shouldn’t be a problem and maybe you could introduce yourself to your neighbour at the same time.

A smoky scent filled the living, interrupting your train of thoughts; your nose scrunching up in disgust- “What’s that smell?”

The two of you stared at each other quizzically before exclaiming at the same time “THE PANCAKES!!”

[Unfortunately, it took a great deal of time trying to scrape the burnt pancake off your pan and clean it. The unknown package was the last thing on your mind.]

“Thanks for the help Charles, I appreciate it.” You smiled at him.

“No problem, after all, I got to eat a good meal in turn,” he gave you a wink before bidding his byes.

The sky lost its pale blue colour and was now transformed into soft red and violet, all blending in to create a beautiful gradient with specks of white clouds adorning like freckles. A mop of unfamiliar silvery hair passed by your peripheral as you stared up the sky, taking a shy glance towards the man.

You stared at his back discreetly as he fumbled with the keys before opening the entrance to his house. 

‘216b’ the golden letters glistened. 

Huh. So that’s your neighbour! Maybe now’s the time you give him back the parcel, and that’s what you did.

You knocked thrice on the emerald green door, while balancing the huge brown box on your other arm- waiting patiently while you internally panicked. Your hands started to sweat and the box started to slip. Rushed footsteps echoed from the other side before halting suddenly, the green door opened with a start; giving you a little shock.

Once again, you were met with the silvery haired man; his garnet red eyes flickered to yours and at that moment- you felt as if everything froze around you. Your heart started to beat way too fast, and your breathing became shallow- it felt as if you were underwater. A tingling sensation ran up your left hand, your eyes flashed down to see whatever the problem was- only to be met with a scarlet thread wrapped around your pinky. You looked at the man in clear surprise and he too- looked very taken aback as he followed your eyes.

The silence stretched far too long for your liking, with a clear of your throat- you introduced yourself to the perplexed man and spoke

“...I’m the new neighbour”

“Bonjour, how can I help you?” He stared at you with wide eyes.

“So err- the package— I mean...I-I believe this is your mail?” You motioned to the box in your arms, “Looks like the mailman mixed up our home addresses.” You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Ahh! Why yes- actually I have yours as well- the mail I mean,” his eyes softened in understanding, “Please! Come inside.” He invited you in as he took the parcel from your hands.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.” You shook your head meekly, still recovering from your speeding heartbeat.

“Not at all! Come in, please,” he insisted with shining eyes.

The house was similar to yours, the same white walls with wooden floors and fixtures- it had a relaxing ambience. You spotted several plants and flowers decorating the house, giving the place a much more peaceful vibe, you were too busy admiring the place to notice your neighbour returning.

He placed two plates of strawberries and tea on the coffee table which caught your attention.

“You have a lovely home uhh…”

“Vlad. I’m Vlad- my apologies, I completely forgot to introduce myself. How rude of me,” Vlad said with a slight smile.

When you turned up his doorsteps, you had no idea of what was to come- you definitely didn’t expect to finally meet your soulmate after all these years and in such a way. Now you understood what people meant by ‘feeling butterflies’

“No, it’s quite alright,” you chuckled while calming your jittery hands.

Vlad took a seat on the couch and pat the place next to him for you to sit. He elegantly picked the teacup and blew softly on it.

“So, how long have you been here?” he asked.

“Not too long actually, been just a week. I’ve finally finished organizing today,” you said while taking a bite into the deep red strawberry- the sweet juiciness making you sigh in delight.

“These strawberries are particularly my favourite- in fact, these were in the parcel you brought,” Vlad said with a deep laugh.

You gave an awkward ‘oh’ as you took a sip from your cup.

Not too long after, the awkwardness disappeared as you two got lost in conversation after conversation and more endless conversation, and a few giggles in between. It was quite easy to trust Vlad- he had a calming and serene aura and had you feeling comfortable in no time, perhaps too comfortable that you didn’t realize how late it was until you glanced at your wristwatch.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry- I lost track of time…”

Vlad gave a hum of acknowledgement as he eyed the wall clock, “It’s not that late.” He looked at you with twinkling eyes, ”Why don’t you stay for dinner? I’d like some company.”

“Hmm I don't know… I’ve overstayed my welcome,” You said with furrowed brows.

“Well I for sure know you haven’t —as I’ve said—I enjoyed your company.”

“Ahh fine! You’re good at tempting people you know?” With a grin, you folded your arms which earned a hearty chuckle from Vlad.

Dinner went smoothly as you two chattered on and on. The two of you stalled your return home but stayed in each other’s presence by washing dishes, eating dessert, extra dessert, and washing dishes yet again until there was nothing left to do.

Once again, you stood at Vlad’s doorstep with a meek smile.

“I had fun, thanks for having me”

“Me too- and it’s not often to find that your neighbour is your soulmate,” Vlad gave you an impish smile.

“Yea— it was, just like—”

“Just like a movie?”

“You stole my words, monsieur.”

“Perhaps this is our movie,” he said while tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

*

*

a/n: if you enjoyed reading this, please don't forget to leave a like and/or reblog. feed back is always appreciated. + join my taglist here

[amostimprobabledream]

And He Walks With Flames (Dabi x Reader) - Part One

They say humans, in a strange, ironic twist of fate, owe their magic to demons. A thousand years ago, they walked the earth, wreaking destruction and chaos wherever they tread. Humans were no more than meat for the slaughter, or glorified playthings for their amusement. The first generation of humans to fight back against their monstrous oppressors did so by a peculiar, ancient magic. A power that could repel demons and bring hope to all humanity. A terrible war raged for the fate of the world and the humans managed to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. The demons were banished to their land of origin, sealed away in defeat. But seals don't last forever. While historians argue on how literal these legends may be, there is no denying that ancient creature have begun to stir, appearing in our world again with growing frequency. And soon there might- The last paragraph was torn away. "Oh, for god's sake," you tsk. Sunlight pours through the large, high window of your lecture room, dust motes dancing in the golden rays. Though you were engrossed in your book, once you look up, the spell is broken, and the clear sky outside once again has your eyes wandering to it. It seems that you are not the only one getting distracted, either - even the professor keeps tapering off at the promise of an afternoon outside in the gorgeous spring weather. "Well," the professor says, shuffling the papers in front of her. "That's all for today. Please revise over the material and we'll discuss it in further detail next time. You are all free to go." You're only too happy to comply, putting your things away and scrambling to your feet. Everyone else is hurrying to get outside, pouring down the stairs to the doors, chattering to one another as they go. Normally you love going to lectures, but it's just too nice outside to be cooped up indoors. You push open the doors and step outside, a muted sigh of pleasure leaving your mouth. Your university, the Royal Academy of Magic, has the reputation for being tough, but so far, you've been enjoying the work. Learning about the different faces of magic, its uses, and the history of it, it's all so very fascinating to you. You've been able to use magic since you were young, but it's studying it here that will really help you unlock your true potential, and hopefully give you a concrete idea of what to aim for with your career. So far there are so many options a magic-user might do that it's been a little overwhelming trying to decide. As you cross the lawns, grass crunching beneath your feet, you decide to swing by your dorm first to drop off your books - they may contain a lot of knowledge, but damn if they're not heavy - your mother pointed out that you've developed something of a slouch since you started studying here. "I'm back!" you call as you push open the door of your dormitory. "Huh?" Kendou looks up from her bed, where she has a couple of books sprawled out next to her head, notes scribbled in the margins of her notebook as she looks over her textbook. Her red hair spills down her shoulder, coming loose from its signature ponytail. "You're back early!" "Yeah, they let us out sooner than I expected," you reply with a shrug and a small laugh, dropping your bag on your own bed and stretching, wincing as a kink in your shoulder pops. "Oh, well, that's good timing, someone came by earlier with a message for you," Kendou says, pushing herself up into a sitting position, apparently deciding your arrival is a good a reason as any to take a break from studying. "Your mother wants you to go down to the Imperial Research Centre to get your father." "Did she come by here?" you ask in surprise. Normally your mother arranges to meet you after lectures or seminars if she wants to see you during the week, and she's a rather busy woman besides. "No, she left a message at the front desk and someone passed it along," Kendou shrugs. "But she also said you guys are doing something tonight, right?" "Oh, yes, I'd forgotten all about that!" you say, feeling silly that it could

possibly have slipped your mind - you love it when you get to go out for a meal with your parents and often it means one of them has some exciting news to share. "Thanks, Kendou, I'll head over there now." She grins and gives a little wave. “No problem!” You suppose it's fortunate that the Imperial Research Centre is only a short walk from the campus and that you're very familiar with the place, since your father's been working there for so long. Anyway, it's a pleasant walk, the way there is lined with rows of trees that are only a week or two away from growing from dark to light pink and shedding their blossoms. When the street is in full bloom, it's like there's been a wedding. You even find yourself humming as you walk, breathing in the subtle smell of flowers on the breeze, wondering to yourself if the blossom trees were planted before or after the buildings were founded, but either way, whoever was responsible for them made a good call. The Imperial Research Centre is a peculiar building, made of blue stone and with a roof that boasts four conical points, one in each corner, making it resemble a castle from bygone days just plopped in the middle of the city. There's an aura of mystery to it, too, hinting at the all-important, life-changing work that’s always going on inside. If ever cutting-edge technology is released to the public, odds were that the Centre had a hand in making it. The building is cooler on the inside than it is outdoors, powered by a system designed to spread cool or warm air throughout the entire building, depending on the system. You approach the front desk, wishing that you'd thought to bring a jacket, because it’s always cold in here during the warm seasons, and the receptionist glances up on you with a slightly dismissive expression on her face. It's probably because she thinks you're an overeager student or some hapless intern, it's very rare a researcher your age would be able to work here. "May I help you?" the receptionist asks in a cool, professional tone. "Yes, I'm here to see my father," you reply. "He's one of the vice executives here." You give his surname, and the woman pauses. Is that a trace of nervousness you can see? "He's downstairs in Containment Room 1A," she says, checking a sheet of paper on the desk, which is littered with various papers, random pieces of stationary and one of those magitech intercom systems that they use. They have something similar at the Academy too, though of course, the Centre get the most high-tech version of everything. "All right, thanks," you say, turning to head for the elevator. "Wait!" the woman cries out and you glance back, confused. "I'm sorry, but you can't just walk through here, especially to the lower levels! You don't have the clearance and it can be dangerous." You scoff in disbelief. You have visited your father here before, many times, and this has never been a problem for you before. You always just tell them who you are and then get a visitor's pass. You even know some of the codes to the doors, thanks to waiting around for your father to finish work so often. "Well, please can you have someone go fetch him for me?" you ask, going to reluctantly perching on one of the chairs in the waiting area. "Can't it wait?" the receptionist asks impatiently, and maybe it can, but her attitude is starting to piss you off, so you shoot her a frosty smile you've perfected after watching your mother pull a similar face at people who don't meet her standards. "No, it can't." The woman sighs but she dutifully presses a button on the intercom system and speaks quietly into it for a moment or two, while you idly pick at a loose thread on the chair you're sitting on. She then glances back at you, eyebrows raised. "A messenger has been sent down to speak to him. Hopefully he should be upstairs shortly." "Thank you so much." you reply sweetly, the last words with heavy emphasis. After that, the two of you sit in a mutually frosty silence, with the woman sorting through paperwork on her desk and occasionally

directing people who approach her desk to the correct floor (which seems redundant to you - why can't people just read the clearly printed sign on the wall next to her desk ?), while you flick through some glossy magazines without actually taking in a single word. But you're not leaving until you've spoken to your father. Minutes tick by and you start drumming your heel lightly on the floor, leg jiggling with impatience. You wonder if the woman just lied about sending a messenger down to the Containment Room in an effort to pacify you, in the hopes you'll just get bored and leave. You grit your jaw at the thought, ignoring how cold you're getting, sitting here doing nothing. After maybe ten minutes, a man in a lab coat approaches the front desk, leaning over to speak to the woman. "Kino, could you come with me a moment? Hannah can start her shift." "Oh, I'll be right there!" Kino says, flustered, getting out from behind the desk and following the man as he walks briskly down the corridor, without a backwards glance at you. No doubt her replacement will be along any moment - perhaps she's running late? But you don't plan on sticking around. As soon as the receptionist rounds the corner, out of sight, you spring up and walk briskly across the room to the elevators, stabbing the button and stepping through the doors. You don't bother to fight the smile that spreads across your face as the doors slide shut. ~ "Father?" There's always something slightly creepy about the lower floors. The orbs lining the walls that are designed to keep the machinery running in case of a power shortage cast an eerie glow in the corridors, washing everything with a pale blue light that makes it seem far colder than it actually is. It reminds you a bit of walking through a tunnel of ice. Your boots click on the stone floor as you follow the lights to Containment Room A1. Finally, you reach the double doors leading inside, flanked by two windows each side. You can see your father inside, his back to you, so you rap on the windows. Nothing. You try again with more force, hurting your knuckles, but he still doesn't turn around. Perhaps it's soundproofed, so whatever's out here can't disturb whatever's going on in there? You glance at the keypad next to the doors, but you've never been to this particular room before so the code for the doors on the upper level is unlikely to be the same one for down here. Then you see movement, shadows beneath the crack between door and floor, and the doors slide open with a mechanical swish and two scientists in lab coats come out, comparing notes and murmuring together excitedly. You slip inside before they can slam shut again, unwilling to stand outside in the chilly corridor for any longer than necessary. "Father!" you call out as you enter. But then you stop dead in your tracks. Ahead of you, trapped behind some kind of containment field...is a monster. "What-?!" you hear your father say in surprise at his daughter suddenly marching through the doors. "What are you doing in here?!" But you don't answer. You can't look away from what's in front of you, even if you wanted to. You know without being told that this is a demon, but it's certainly not what they looked like in any of your history books. A tall, humanoid being that is undoubtedly male and you can tell from where you’re standing that he’s tall. The demon's huge, black wings arch out from behind him, reminding you of a bat. Two horns jut out from a crown of spiky black hair, but aside from that, you're surprised by how… human he looks. Your cheeks warm up as you notice he is shirtless, peculiar burn marks covering over half of his body and seemingly crudely stitched together like a patchwork doll. Despite that, he's impressively sculpted, sinewy muscles on full display and you know that demons were said to be uncommonly strong. Your eyes drift further down, and you spot a whiplike tail wrapped around one leg, topped with a pointed barb at the end, like a club in a game of cards. His arms are in restraints and so are his

ankles, yet he doesn't seem stressed in any way, leaning against the back wall of his holding cell as though he's waiting for something. "What...is this?" you breathe out, finally turning to your father. "This is our latest research subject," your father replies beside you, also staring at the demon, though his expression is surprisingly somber, considering just how amazing it is that they have been able to capture and contain a demon. You've never seen a live demon before, and something tells you that the one before you certainly isn't any garden variety one. "Director Fuji is very excited about this. It's not every day you see a demon this high ranking." Slowly, the demon stirs, raising his head a little. You're perfectly safe outside the containment field, as well was the multiple other safety measures both inside the cell and out of it, yet the sensation of being watched makes your flesh break out in goosebumps. From beneath spiky fronds of hair, the demon's eyes - so blue they almost don't look real - stare right at you, his gaze alone rooting you to the spot, laying all your defenses bare and leaving you feeling bizarrely naked before that look. Watching you without once blinking or breaking his gaze, his lips part in a sneer to reveal two rows of teeth, the fangs sharp and white as an icicle. You find yourself holding your breath as your father speaks again. "Sweetheart, meet Dabi."

[springtimebat]

A Family of Draculas

Chapter Two: Corpse Cradle

Note: This is a sequel to my post Babes in the Woods.

It all began on a strange Autumn day, confined to the mist and the thistles that conceal the woods in their thick fog, their addicting scent. In some ways, these events never ended. The woods remain the same. The sky continues to fill its space with monsters. And of course, the Corpse Cradle stands, as it has always stood, in the gingerbread house, hidden away from prying eyes, cloaked in ripped limbs, pulled intestines and dry blood.

The Corpse Cradle. How can I tell you about the Corpse Cradle? I should tell you about the time I fell in love. That’s a good place to begin.

It all began on my birthday. I had just turned sixteen years old.

On my sixteenth birthday, cracks began to appear in the morning sky. As we placed the candles on my cake, the wolves crept out of their caves to howl. The old, old air threw their shrieks into the wind like a strange radio signal. The Darling woman, her skin just scars and pores, sat by the stove as all this went on, warming her claws on the coals. I sat on my knees beside her, watching the sky from the kitchen window. The whistling, the whispers; they caressed my face with spidery palms.

The Darling women watched me as I succumbed to the winds. Her eyes were yellow and greedy.

“Do you know what this is, sourdough?” She asked, tossing a coal around in her talons. Her skin never burned. It didn’t matter how much she strained it, her skin never burned.

I rolled my eyes and twirled the morning breeze around my neck, enchanting it like a snake. The witch let go of the coal lump and it hit the kitchen rug beneath her with a thump.

“I just asked you something Dorothy-Mae. Would you care to repeat it for me?”

“You asked me if I know what this is,”

“Very good. Do you know?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea ma’am.”

“You should know. You of all people should know about this. After all, it’s all happening because of you.”

“Me?” I let the wind escape from my grasp and it loosened, grabbing onto my wrist, “What have I done now?”

“You’ve grown,” The old woman chuckled, “That is your problem. That is your curse to bear. You grow up,” She reached into a pocket and produced a slimy cigar from the shadows. She cackled at my scowling face, “You’re in so much trouble!”

I shot up from the floor and scraped my feet on the boards, “If you’re gonna be like this all day I’d much rather celebrate outside. You’re hopeless when you speak in riddles.”

“I,” The old woman coughed, “Do not speak in riddles. I speak in ominous fortunes.”

“And a fat load of good that’s got us. A run-down cottage and these woods.”

“And the corpse cradle.”

I shivered and pulled my shawl tighter on my shoulders, “Yep. There’s that too.”

“It’s been empty for three weeks Dorothy-Mae. It’s growing lonely. Soon it will be hungry.”

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

“I do hope you’re not shirking your responsibilities, my-little-Dorothy-Mae. After all, I’m old.”

“I hadn’t noticed ma’am.”

“I’m old. I’m old and I’m feeble. Could you imagine the fuss...the strife I would get myself into if I went out on a hunt. A hunt? Me? Never!”

I gulped, “I haven’t been avoiding it. No-one has come through the woods. No men let alone children. And the cradle favours the toddlers.”

“It does indeed,” By now the cigar was spent, yet the old woman continued to puff at nothing but the air, “The skin at its most plump.”

“Do you really wanna send me out on my birthday?”

“I need to send you out there on your birthday. If it isn’t filled soon it’ll try to take you next.”

I scoffed and walked away to grab my coat. The stand winked at me as I pulled at its sharpened tongs.

“Creep,” I growled.

“It knows a pretty girl when it sees one,” The witch grinned. I stuck my tongue out at her and headed to the front door.

“Oh, charming!” She cackled, and she strummed her hands in mid air, playing an imaginary violin.

“I try.”

“Think of this as my birthday gift to you. You never know what you’ll find in those woods, sourdough. The trees like you. You practically have them wrapped around your finger.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t eat all of the cake while I’m gone.”

There had been a white balloon tied to the front door and I took it with me as I walked. It was a kindred spirit in a world full of corpse cradles and winking coat stands.

“‘Tis a strange thing,” I said, “To be sixteen.” My balloon bobbed its head in the wind, “Then again, the world is a strange place and I suppose I’m a strange master,” I hesitated, then spoke up again,“You won’t have to put up with me for long. Just a few hours. Then I’ll let you go.”

We wandered through the hazel thicket and crawled across the marsh. The gingerbread house sat behind the fence, watching the shadows and the oaks. The trees stared back, curious.

“Ah well, who knows what we’ll find,”

I pulled myself through the moss and the damp, expecting to find the woods, trapping me within its confines again.

I greeted ash. Ash and bare fields.

“ Happy birthday to me.”

My balloon stopped abruptly, mid wiggle.

“Thanks for my present I guess.” I sighed, to no one in particular, “ I always wanted a garden.”

No-one answered. But someone was there. A body made up of carpet lay on the singed grass, their head curled into their shoulders like a turtle. I could hear their snoring as their breath rose and fell.

Sighing, I tugged on my balloon.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I have to cut this acquaintanceship short. Have wonderful times out there. I’m a better person for having known you.”

With that, the balloon flew into the smoke like a dove.

“There goes my only friend,” I mourned.

My present trembled in the dirt and I began my slow, agonising walk towards them. Reflecting on these moments, years after my walk ended, it all feels like I was paddling through water, through an ocean, towards them. The wind called to me to hesitate and yet I did not. I took fateful step after fateful step, treading cursed ground until I caught sight of their face. It was shrivelled, gazing at me through glazed, grey eyes. They looked stormy and exhausted. Gazing at this creature was like receiving cracked glass. The grey seeked out colour, found a brother in the wizened skies, then returned to earth, settling on me. As they caught the red on my dress they grinned with rotten teeth. I trembled and I swallowed. Crouched before me was the strangest person I’d ever seen.

{A break in the Narrative}

A Portrait of a volatile, violent, confused young man

Or: The Tale of the Man with a broken back

He was a boy forced into the floor; tired, confined to cages and bars. He was born with a crooked, broken back and glassy eyes, the shade of fading autumn grass.

I saw him and I fell in love.

{Exeunt}

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I looked at the man before me and pulled my coat tighter around me. He attempted to pry himself from the earth, a grin never leaving his thinned face, his eyes never leaving my own.

“Don’t do that. The threads will just tighten.” I whispered.

The man raised his eyebrows and stilled. I took a step closer.

“Have you come to rescue me?” He asked. He had the voice of a toad, low and croaky. I sighed and dug deep into my pockets. Slowly, I gripped my pliers.

“The earth has its claws deep inside you. I can see that, even from here, your heart has turned to clay.”

“It can do that?” His eyes widened and I hesitated.

“It can with the right persuasion,”

“Huh!” He exclaimed, ``That's the last time I take a walk in the woods!”

“Do you...do you know what lives in these trees?”

“You, I assume. Although after today that will change.”

“Oh, how so?”

“Because I plan on taking you back with me.”

“Oh?” I grinned, pulling his arm out of the earth’s grasp. It howled angrily in my ear, upset at losing its meal.

“You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

My grin widened and I stroked his head. His hair was matted and coarse like moss. His neck tensed and an awful crack soared through the air as he raised his free arm to me.

“How many women have you seen?”

“Many. And many women have seen me.”

“How tragic for them.”

“How tragic for me too. They’ve spoiled me for a lifetime. They could not prepare this carpet caterpillar for your arrival.” The strange man guarded by the ground flapped his patchwork torso around. I rolled my eyes and stretched out his leg, readying it for plucking.

“Eerie things live in these woods. Eerier than me. Creatures that would much rather eat you than bear to look at you. Monsters that could fit you on their fingertips”

“They may desire to do so,” The strange man continued, “But only you will get a chance to.”

“I could never eat a carpet caterpillar.”

“Your carpet caterpillar.” And with that he was free and he curled up in my open lap. It happened quickly, too quickly to properly register. We lay there in the dirt as if sleeping on satin. For a while, in my pickled mind, the skies were made out of stained glass and gilded in rose gold.

“How long have you been stuck here for?” I asked, twisting his hair in my open palms. He growled and shuffled closer. He was still wrapped in the carpet. Couldn’t seem to let it go.

“A long, long, long time,” Is all he said.

“You were not here yesterday when I went on my walk,”

“How unfortunate for me...and for you,”

“That thing smells unholy,” I frowned, pinching my nose. He mumbled something and stroked the confines of his old prison, almost disappointed.

“It was fine before you released me,”

“And now you’re free from the earth. Now you’re as human as the day you were born,”

“Not much then,” He sighed, and my heart caught in my throat.

“What are you made of?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He grinned, “Carpets! Of all makes and sizes!”

“Of all fleshes, bones and eye sockets?”

“I am the Carpet Caterpillar of the woods!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. To the trees, to the sky, to the wind. It was then that I realised the man I loved was mad.

I pulled him down to eye level and wrapped his arms of cotton and linen around my neck. I got another evil smile in return, crackling like a fire in the fog.

“It’s not safe out here for you. I’m taking you home.”

“Hmm...is there food there?”

“We have cake,” I grinned.

He chuckled, “Aren’t you a treasure!”

And so I took my present to the Corpse Cradle

{A break in the Narrative}

The Corpse Cradle: A surface level study of a forest monster

The corpse cradle is as old as the dust and the ground, a mass of grass and tissue, clinging and feeding off of the dirt. It has eyes, it has lungs, it has teeth...or so I’ve been told. My caretaker found it when she inherited the woods and it has been steadily fed ever since, in order to keep our home. Sometimes it's sated by travellers, by men, by women, by monsters from other planes. But it loves children in particular. It holds onto their hearts in jars. It keeps discarded limbs flailing around its bodice, in order to live up to its name.

{Exeunt}

He stayed there for six months, having his flesh stripped away, his mind flayed by a monster he could not feel. His face went from fogged glass, to a violent pink, to a terrible purple. I sat by him and watched on and off, as his carpets withered away to thin linens. He never cried. He refused.

“It does this to test you, you know,” The Witch told me one day as we scraped flesh into the cooking pot. At first, I had stopped eating what the Cradle decided to share with us but my present had insisted that I take it.

“If I am to die,” He reassured me, “I would rather you eat this. I’d rather you collect me than her.”

I turned to my caretaker, the closest thing I had to a mother. The Corpse Cradle gurgled happily in the corner as it ingested my lover’s guts.

“Maybe it tests me too much,” I replied, trying to keep myself from vomiting.

Mrs Darling chuckled, “I find it funny that, for years now, you’ve eaten whatever the cradle has given us. It protected you, taught you, nurtured you, almost as much as me. You’ve grown up surrounded by dying things. Yet, this young man appears before you and you turn into a ghost, a silhouette of things past.”

“Perhaps it comes with age,” I said, grimly. The Witch’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t start with that nonsense. I don’t know why you’re so upset sourdough! The trees brought you fresh meat. They practically served him up on a platter…”

“They served him up to me wrapped in carpets. And he continues to wear them like a suit of armour!”

“He loves you.”

“Yes he does, though I have no idea why. We don’t know each other.”

“You don’t?”

“You know we don’t. I met him on my birthday!”

The Witch continued to stir the flesh in her cauldron. I would have pursued the conversation further but the Corpse Cradle decided that it was the appropriate moment to snap its prisoners back.

He had been in the Cradle for four months, the longest a creature had ever stayed, and Mrs Darling had started to think the woods had delivered an immortal to our doorstep. His rough skin was all gone now and he was just a mass of bones and rotten teeth. His spine had been severed and completely digested, leaving him to crawl around in the beast’s belly. His eyes were still in their sockets, but not for long. At night I sat with them in their cage, gazing at his face with a lantern. The confused stare was gone now. His eyes were now the shade of spring grass instead of dying winter. I stroked a rib that encased him and reached to caress his arm. He grabbed my own and held it to his jaw, growing tired in the dark.

He was angry, I knew that. I was angry too.

“Where will I go when I die?”

I swallowed, “I don’t know.”

He groaned. I could hear his neck crack, just like the day we met. My hand gripped his jaw tighter.

“I don’t know what you are. I don’t know what will happen. And…”

“You don’t know what to do,” He finished. I nodded reluctantly. His hand flew up to my own, fixated on his chin, and he caressed the grooves on my palms.

“Where will you go when you die?”

I sighed, relieved, “Oh that’s much simpler! I know exactly where I will go! When I die, I will go to the lonely places!”

“Lonely places?”

“Yes! Lonely corners and corridors of the world. I’ll float and dance on the air with my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

“I do. I was a twin. We were born minutes apart but he was...different.”

“Different like you or…”

“He was born with fangs and glowing eyes. He had shaggy, silver fur instead of skin. He died soon after my mother gave birth. A few minutes later, she followed him.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Sometimes. When I’m lonely, I like to wonder what my life would be like if he lived. If we’d be here together, if we’d love each other, even like each other. Maybe, if he had lived, if he had gone on to grow, our father wouldn’t have given us up. Maybe we would still be together, playing by a creek.”

“I’m sure your father misses you. I can’t understand how he could give you up. And to a witch of all people!” I chuckled, “My father cannot feel. You will never understand. I’m not human. I never have been. Unicorn silk flows and pulses through my fingers. I hold electricity on my tongue. I am what I am because of my father. The only person my father could love died giving me life and it left him cold, frozen in time.”

“You do love to speak in monologues don’t you?”

I giggled and stroked his cheek, “Sometimes.”

“I tell you what,” He announced, shifting in the shadows to press his frame to me, “When I die, I’ll come back to you as a spirit!”

“You can’t determine that!” I cackled.

“You don’t know that I can’t! Perhaps we’re able to decide what we do once we’re gone. I’m a person of little consequence, slowly being devoured by a forest beast! Whatever awaits won’t care for someone as pathetic as me.”

“You’re not pathetic.”

“And I’m not leaving you alone.”

He lowered his haggard hand to my abdomen and tugged at the folds of my dress.

“What colour is it?” He asked.

“Are you losing your sight?”

“What colour is it?”

“Red.”

“Red. Like the day you found me. It’s come full circle hasn’t it?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“If I get the chance to, I will come back to you. I wish to belong to you always. But if I can’t get back to you, Can I at least give you something to remember me by?”

My eyes grew large and I took a step back from the cage. He clutched at the bars of his prison and I could see how hopeful his gaunt, torn face was.

“You really are arrogant aren’t you? Of all the things to wish for! Is that really your last request? Because that’s what this is, your last request! A child...my child? It’ll be…”

“Beautiful,” He whispered, smiling at my flushed face, “It’ll be beautiful.”

I grabbed onto his arm again and sighed.

“I don’t understand why you love me so much. I could have had as many men as I liked, you’ll never know. Honestly, you don’t know the first thing about me.”

“You still haven’t figured it out have you?”

“I haven’t figured out what?”

“The woods gave you to me, right? I am your present and I was designed for you, placed in the ground for you to take. I’m a gift and as such I am a non-entity. I’m just an object. The woods must have thought you were lonely and created me in response.”

“Why-why would they do this?”

“You’re a daughter of the air. You don’t belong here. They’re apologising,”

“You’re-you’re an object?”

“I might as well be.”

I took a deep breath, “I will miss you when you’re gone. I never wished for you but I will miss you as if I did.”

“I’ll miss you too,” My present hesitated and his hands fell to the floor.

“What do you want to say?” I asked, reaching to hold his palms again.

“Can I lie with you tonight?”

I swallowed and stood. Then I slid the heavy doors of the Corpse Cradle ajar.

“Just for tonight.”

He died two months later on a Thursday. I had brought him breakfast early in the morning and discovered that his skeleton had fallen apart. Rain began to fall as the Witch and I burned his remains in the cauldron. My eyes stayed locked on the Corpse Cradle, gluttonous and smug in the corner. It had grown heavy on my lover’s flesh and turned around like a lazy dog in the sun.

“It’s better this way, my Dorothy-Mae,” Mrs Darling reassured, lifting kneecaps from the brewing stew and stuffing them into my pockets, “He wasn’t long for this world anyway. One can only live on lust for so long.”

I didn’t respond. I continued to watch the Cradle.

“Must say, he had beautiful eyes. Like leaves. I almost wish the Cradle hadn’t gobbled them up!” The Witch cackled. I rolled my eyes and gripped the new chain around my neck. Mrs Darling followed my fingers and realised that the very eyes she longed to own were wrapped around my neck.

“He wanted me to have them,” I explained, “Besides, you have enough eyes to gorge yourself on.”

“Don’t be rude sourdough.” She growled.

“He never loved me, you know.”

“Of course he did! He was created to love you!”

“That’s just it. He never had a choice.”

“And no one ever will.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You enchant almost everything you come across. That’s exactly why I took you in. Look at how you’ve manipulated the forest, the very trees! It mourns right along with you! In a couple of years who knows what you will be able to do! I can teach you how to control the rain, twist the wind around your pinky finger! I can teach you how to make yourself stronger!”

“I don’t care about all that,” I scowled, “I’ve lost a friend.”

“There will be others. I’m sure the woods will leave another gift on your next birthday, since you enjoyed this one so much.”

“No. There won’t be anyone quite like him.”

I tugged at my dress, pulling down the skirt hem. The witch followed my gaze to my belly and she sneered.

“Dorothy, please do not tell me that you-” She began to vomit in her mouth, “Please do not confess to me…”

“Yes. I did. And I’m expecting,”

“You stupid, stupid girl! You do realise what that boy was? That boy was linens! That boy was clothing! He was about as human as a raincoat!”

“He was to you. But he wasn’t to me. He was a person that I let down.”

“The Cradle won’t stand for this! You know it’ll take the baby!”

“If it’s human. But I’m not sure it will be.”

“It will take the baby away just to spite you.”

“I’ll kill it.”

“Of course you will.”

“It will die eventually. Won’t it? Nothing lives forever.”

“Perhaps. I’d say the woods have taught you a lesson after all.”

I scowled at her.

The fire began to die and Mrs Darling stirred the stew with a wooden spoon. I peered inside. My lover’s bones had disappeared, melted into black tar.

“I won’t eat it.”

“I don’t expect you to, sourdough. From now on you will eat only the healthiest of meals. We need to keep the baby happy. However strange it may be, it's still our responsibility. Lord knows, the father will be completely useless in raising it!”

“We fed the father to a forest monster ma'am.”

“That couldn’t be helped. Anyway, I’ll set out to find some fresh meat in a few days, once you begin to tire. This here is a delicacy!”

With that we sat down on the ground together, huddled in our gingerbread house. It almost felt like days of old. The Witch began feasting on my lover’s remains while I tugged at the chain around my neck, tugged at the man’s eyes, twisted his tensed muscles and nerves in my hand.

“I will kill it one day,” I whispered sorrowfully, “I will kill it for what it’s done to me.”

The Witch said nothing, just directed her focus to the sky outside. The Corpse Cradle gave a vindictive growl.

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

You Slow It Down

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: M (Mature) Word Count: ~3.6K Notes: This is my Secret Santa gift to @sideeyedkinks for the @starkerfestivals fic exchange! I enjoyed making the prompt fit into the inner workings of my head and hope I did it justice!  Warnings: There be some NSFW stuff, but that’s about it!  Prompt: Tony fully expects that Peter, being a tech-y Gen Z, will prefer texting to phone calls. But whenever Peter initiates contact, it's a phone call. Summary:

Instead of continuing with his journey as Iron-Man, Tony Stark takes a couple of steps back in hopes of finding himself. After 5 years of living harmoniously with the world around him and the position he created for himself within the Avenger organization, Tony literally bumps into the start of the rest of his life. It's funny how life works - the best things always come when they're least expected.

Or, the one where Tony is obsessed with Christmas trees (& Peter Parker, too).

Read it on AO3 here. 

After the debacle with Killian and what felt like an ultimatum from Pepper, Tony took a huge step back from everything; his relationship and the Iron Man suit included. Of course, he didn’t pull his support away from Avenger business or leave them high and dry – consulting specifically with their tech and only their tech became his main gig. When the weight of the world was on his shoulders, sometimes his decision-making processes weren’t up to par – there were too many things that shadowed his vision; too many things that inhabited his head that the world shouldn’t see.

With every step away from the active duty stuff, the better things seemed to be. It started with sleep. Before, Tony would toss and turn; his head filled to the brim with ideas and visions – not so good times past. Little by little, Tony found himself sleeping through the night, his slumber the best he could remember in all of his grown-up years. And the lack of anxiety – Tony’s constant companion for so many years – it felt like a sweet release from the tomb he didn’t know he let himself fall into. Everyday things started to feel good again – including the work that he let himself drift from when he thought the world depended on him and him alone.

Before he knew it, five years were behind him – five years filled with successful technology advances, big rehabilitation in the city, and lots of actual enjoyment of his life. Tony allowed himself to actually get to know Happy; the man was a bundle of ideas, his take on security and the inner most running of Stark Industries both beneficial and fun to kick around when they found the time. Despite still having his toe in the world saving pool, Tony removed himself from it enough to make a place for his wants and needs that wasn’t riddled with grief and the terrifying idea of letting everyone down.

In his enjoyment, Tony found himself getting into the holiday spirit as the city turned from the hum-drum busy-ness to a gorgeous winter wonderland. In all the years of living in New York, the decorations never stood out; until he looked, of course – then, he couldn’t stand to look away.

Which is how he found himself standing in front of the lit-up tree at Rockefeller Center, the multicolored lights and unique ornaments covering the tree making his heart race, the feeling new each time he stood in front of the towering spruce. Tony was so wrapped up in the beauty before him that he didn’t realize he’d taken a few steps backward until he was full body colliding with what could only be another human being – his breath leaving him upon impact.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry – “ the lump of human murmured, his hands on Tony’s biceps before he could catch a look at his tackler turned savior.

Tony took a second to register a couple of things while the words sunk in – the first was that the body now pressed against his own was warm and what could only be described as firm. The second, and most important, was the way the other person’s hands felt in their grip against the upper part of his arm. Almost like he’d fallen asleep on the limbs, both arms were tingling, the place of contact on fire from the rightness of the touch. A shuddered breath left his lips before Tony could even think to respond.

“It was probably my fault. I’ve been staring at the fucking tree for who knows how long – I tend to wonder when I’m hyper focused like that.” Tony finally felt steady enough on his feet to take in the person standing in front of him smiling a gorgeously embarrassed grin.

“I was doing the same thing. Ever since I left for Cambridge, coming back and seeing the tree is more important than it used to be.” The man – the beautiful, young man stepped back then, his hand lingering on Tony’s arm for a second longer before dropping down into the space between them, a bigger grin on his face. “I can’t really say I’m mad about the collision, it kind of seems fated that we meet like this.” He stopped for a moment, taking more of Tony in – and then – “I’m Peter.”

Tucking his bottom lip between his teeth to stop the mega-watt smile from overtaking his face, Tony ducked his head and returned the handshake, his hand tingling all the while. “Maybe you’re right – you’re a fellow tree lover after all. I’m Tony – Tony Stark.” For a second, he held his breath, not sure what kind of reaction he was going to get from the handsome stranger.

As if reading his mind, Peter gave his hand a squeeze, cheeks blooming with a delightful red. “I know – I’m studying Engineering at MIT; you’re kind of a legend.”

A soft laugh left Tony’s lips at that, the breath he’d been holding slipping out with relief. Regardless of what the kid actually knew about him, Tony appreciated the tact – he felt his pride swell with the compliment. His time at MIT was treasured, despite what the rags told the public about it.

“An engineer, huh? How are the new labs? I heard they were starting to finally integrate the holoscreen technology.”

From there, the conversation just took off. Peter gushed about the leaps his research was taking now that the available technology was up to par. Despite being only 21, Peter was a semester from graduating – his hunger for achievement and knowledge apparent in every word out of his mouth. It was easy – talking to someone that showed genuine interest in all the pieces of Tony; not just the techy brilliance or his time in the suit. They walked around the tree a couple of times before making their way to a coffee shop where they occupied the table until very close to closing time.

His eyes still sparkling with the thrill of meeting someone he instantly liked, Tony bucked up some confidence and invited Peter back to the penthouse with him. “I know we just met, but I like you. Want to come back to my place?” Their bodies migrated closer and closer throughout the night, his hand finally wrapping around Peter’s as he spoke.

He felt a spark of hope slip down his spine when Peter shifted his hand just enough to tie their fingers together, the fit nice, just right down to the thread of the inside of each digit. Peter’s hand felt like it was on fire, the heat warming him up down to the very core.

“I think I’d like that,” Peter finally replied, his voice warm and a touch deeper, the idea obviously appealing to him in some fashion.

Tony didn’t give any opportunity for either of them to talk themselves out of it. He urged Peter up and to the curb with a squeeze on his hand, their steps steady as they navigated through the crowd on the sidewalk to where Tony parked his car – their hands only parting when Peter settled safely into the passenger seat.

Luckily, the drive back didn’t take long – the silence in the car was comfortable yet tinged with a sort of lust that encompassed everything. It felt good – to feel a nice kind of apprehension. There was a part of him that reveled at the novelty of the feeling. In all his years, Tony hadn’t felt anything like this – a burning desire that was consuming.

They didn’t let the dam break until the elevator dinged as they arrived in the foyer of Tony’s penthouse, the nearness to each other in the elevator car more than enough to sustain the need. And yet, the second the door opened, Peter’s arms were grabbing Tony’s hips, their lips sealing together without wasting a beat.

As quickly as possible when sealed from lip to toe, Tony steered them back towards his bedroom, the pair stopping every time a hard surface came into their periphery. Tony had to stop himself from letting Peter press him against the wall to take him right then and there. A gasp of success sounded when they finally tumbled into the bedroom, Tony breaking their connection to suck in a breath and do the dirty work of undressing.

Peter’s eyes watched him closely as he shrugged off his jacket, his scarf and hat hitting the floor with it. His fingers were cold, but still nimble enough to steadily undo the buttons of the warm flannel he put on in preparation of being out in the cold. His torso was completely bare by the time Peter blinked and started to disrobe himself.

Without much hesitation on either part, Tony and Peter met in the middle of the bed once the layers of clothing were coating the bedroom floor. Tony’s back pressed to against the mattress as Peter settled over him, the limbs that still spoke of youth covering him completely.

Long fingers ran through his graying hair, Peter’s eyes roaming over his face unblinkingly, as if trying to memorize his features. Tony let him have his fill as his own hands wandered over bare skin, the smoothness of it a perfect addition to the hard muscle residing just under the surface.

“You’re beautiful,” Peter mumbled, each word loud in the soft quiet surrounding them. His eyes were earnest, as if he needed Tony to know how real the words were. “You have the craziest eyes.”

Before Tony could even think to respond, Peter was in action – the quick shift in tone almost too much for the moment. Yet, Tony didn’t even want to stop the moan from slipping out of his lips when Peter let their groins settle together, the shift of their cocks together delicious in the ‘need more’ kind of way. Tony let his fingers grip Peter’s skin a little tighter, the thought of leaving a mark on him adding to it all.

The lack of shyness from the younger man didn’t surprise Tony one bit. The way he spoke of his interests told Tony that there was a deep passion residing in Peter’s belly – the extent of it translating to this aspect of his existence, too. Exploring lips made a trail from the side of Tony’s neck to the junction of his thigh before pressing against the warmth of his dick, making his entire body jump from each passing stimulus.

Tony was just cognizant enough to reach out behind him, his hand fumbling over the bedside table until he could grasp the drawer and pull out the necessary supplies. He thrust them in Peter’s direction his eyes lingering on the ceiling in hopes of not embarrassing himself by coming too soon. On top of the long stint between the last connection with another human being, Tony felt a fire that burned hot – hotter than ever before. There wouldn’t be much need to even touch him once Peter really got going.

The softness of Peter’s touch made it easy for Tony to forget the discomfort of being stretched open again, this particular act one he hadn’t partaken in for quite a while. The slick slide of too much lube and knowledgeable fingers made the usually awkward process an easy escape; nothing else existed but Peter, the weight of his body, and touch of his hands – a touch that felt like it was everywhere all at once.

His patience wearing thing, Tony let his hand drift to Peter’s shoulder, his fingers pressing desperately into his skin. “I’m ready. Please – you need to fuck me.”

The breathiness of his voice usually would’ve caused a surge of anxiety, but the look on Peter’s face at the words didn’t allow any negative feeling to sink in. His stomach tightened as a beaming smile answered him – Peter shifted with an energy that spoke of excitement and anticipation, both feelings that Tony didn’t realize could be so damn enjoyable.

Peter gripped the back of his thigh tightly with his free hand as the other shifted a now condom covered cock, the length glistening with the sheen of lube in the small amount of lamplight. Tony forced himself to relax with every inch that Peter pressed inside of him – the feeling of being stretched by someone that touched more than just his physical body overwhelming; their connection ran deep, Tony could feel it even after such a short time together.

The luscious feeling of Peter bottoming out pulled a moan from Tony’s chest, his hands shifting in an attempt to pull the other’s weight over top of him. Getting the hint, Peter prompted Tony to wrap his legs around his waist, then let his upper body fall forward, his arms cradling Tony’s head, the ripple of his firm stomach brushing against an already leaky dick between them.

With the shift in position, Peter slipped even deeper, the head of his cock pressing smoothly against Tony’s prostate without even a single move of either of their hips. His eyes glazed over; the fingers now buried in Peter’s hair gripping in an attempt to stay in the moment.

“You feel amazing. The sort of full that shouldn’t be possible,” Tony mumbled through a few panted breaths, his stomach and lower half finally relaxing to a point where Peter felt like he could move. Slim hips shifted, the swivel of them driving the contact with his prostate a few ticks further up the pleasure meter.

Their lips were once against sealed together as Peter started to set a solid rhythm, the push and pull between them in sync, their bodies moving in a way that was too easy to bring the end rushing towards them both before either of them were ready. Tony clung to every one of Peter’s movements, the long muscles shifting under his hands, the warm skin covered in sweat to the point where their movements were so easy because of it.

The friction of the slick slide of the skin of Peter’s stomach against his erection with every thrust pulled Tony’s orgasm from him, the feeling of it suddenly hitting him a surprise in its own right. The tightening of his ass around Peter’s length inside him was enough to pull the other over the edge with him, Tony feeling the stuttering thrust just seconds after his stomach tightened and the world shattered for a few blissful moments.

Burying his face in Tony’s neck, Peter let his breath brush against the skin there, the comedown between them just as sweet as the raucous coupling moments earlier. Tony held him closely, the ache in his legs from sustaining the same position not enough to override the utter bliss of a good orgasm and a gorgeous man pressed against him.

----

For the remainder of the days between their meeting and Christmas, Tony and Peter stayed wrapped up in each other. They shared a multitude of takeaway, lots of sex, and time in the lab that Tony introduced Peter to when he finally felt like it was right to get out of bed; it’d been a long time since an attractive and totally youthful person shared the luxury of his Egyptian cotton sheets.

It was easy to pass the holiday with Peter where they snuggled by the fire with the tall tree in their view. They exchanged last minute gifts in the form of physical contact and time spent together – both figuring out just how enjoyable it could be to have a person around that just seemed to get it.

Tony wanted the time to stop so he could keep Peter forever, but it flew by them instead; before he was ready, they were heading into the last day of the younger man’s break. In their isolated time spent together, it was easy to forget that each had lives existing outside the creature comforts of his penthouse and the small bodega across the street. The last few hours before Peter was meant to be on the train back to Cambridge were agonizing, both anticipating the distance already, despite the physical need to rotate within each other’s orbit at all times.

“It’s not goodbye, Tony,” Peter mumbled into Tony’s stubbled neck, his lips caressing the skin there.

His fingers were toying with the small hairs at the back of Tony’s head, the soft comfort of the touch enough to keep him from being too sad about the situation. Leaning into the touch, Tony nodded, his nose brushing against the swell of Peter’s cheek.

“I know – I’m just going to miss you. I probably won’t catch a break until you’re due back for spring break, so I’m trying to soak you in before I don’t see you for a while.” Tony punctuated the words by breathing in a deep breath, his chest tight with the long drawn in pull of oxygen.

Peter pulled him into a swift hug before either of them could say anything else. They already talked about the end of the semester, the time where Tony could actually have Peter to himself without disrupting both of their lives. The promise of more was tantalizing, more than enough to get him through, but a tease all the same. Tony returned the embrace, his fingers digging into the jacket Peter nabbed from his closet.

They shared a brief kiss before separating completely, Tony flashing him a soft smile. “Go – you’ll miss your train if I let myself keep you here any longer.” Tony brushed his fingers over Peter’s cheek, the touch more than enough to say the words he couldn’t get out. “Let me know when you get in.”

There wasn’t any hesitation in Peter’s movements as he got out of the car, his eyes catching Tony’s as he turned back briefly, the obvious need to completely turn around apparent in every minute movement. He shot a quick wave over his shoulder, Tony grinning before returning the gesture.

Getting home from the train station, Tony let himself get lost in his work, the hope of distracting himself from Peter’s absence obvious in the way he tried to bury his being completely. He must’ve been successful because the next conscious thought he could recall came from the ringing of his phone, the cheesy ringtone he set for Peter’s calls sounding around the lab. Quirking a brow, Tony wondered about the phone call – most people Peter’s age were all about texting. He expected to have most of their conversations over the easy to send messages.

Unable to suppress a smile, Tony swiped his finger across the phone to answer the call, his tone rich with the affection he felt. “I take it you made it in okay?” Tony questioned in a way of greeting, the awkwardness he usually felt over the phone vanishing.

Peter laughed, the sound settling low in Tony’s belly. He missed the heck out of everything about him already; the thought making his gut clench.

“I did – I slept the entire way on the train; I was home before I could blink, it felt like.”

And so, things went – Tony worked on the tech on his to-do list in between phone calls with Peter when his boyfriend had a spare minute between all of the crazy academic things he was currently pursuing. When the ringtone for a call came in, Tony let a small smile slip across his lips – every time the action surprising him. He didn’t know if it was just Peter, the man unique in his own right, or if it was a necessity now that they knew and understood the connection between them. Tony liked the sound of Peter’s voice and hoped the feeling was mutual.

When they were finally able to meet for spring break, it was like no time at all had passed between them. There wasn’t much better than seeing each other in person, but the familiar pitch and sound of Peter’s voice felt like a constant companion – enough of a connection to feel like they weren’t so far apart, after all.

And when the time came for Peter to come back home for real, Tony waited impatiently for the phone to ring, his being totally in tuned with the shrill sound of the ringtone that was now so damn familiar. He felt his face splitting into a wide grin when it eventually did go off, his body already in motion – this was the last time he needed to go to the train station to pick his best friend up.

The words “turn around” stopped him dead in his tracks, the echo of them making him look up, his limbs moving before Tony even knew what he was doing.

Peter stood there with the phone pressed against his cheek, the key Tony gave him during his last trip dangling from the other hand. Without a second thought, Peter hung up the phone, the thing falling from his hands with the force in which he moved across the room towards Tony.

Long arms were pulling him into a hug within seconds, Peter’s hands digging under Tony’s shirt without any further preamble. Returning the hug, Tony let himself bury his nose in Peter’s neck, his smile tickling the fine hairs there.

“Welcome home, Petey.”

[mattzerella-sticks]

Desperation, Baby! (coda to 15x19 “Inherit the Earth”, Dean & Lucifer, Dean/Cas, 2.3k, T)

ao3 link

Death took her sweet time parsing through Chuck's book, meaning Lucifer spent longer than he'd like surrounded by his former vessel, his brother, his son, and a man whose obvious longing made him want to vomit. Instead of returning with his prize, Chuck welcoming him back, he must waste his valuable time playing 'nice; with those he can't stand.

Not that it matters. They don't trust him, each member of this ragtag group of survivors watching Lucifer in shifts. Never leaving him alone.

It's Dean's turn now, and he's driving Lucifer up a wall by doing nothing at all save for broadcasting a never-ending supply of feeling. Can he cut the signal without showing his hand, or put Dean's heart to good use?

           It’s pathetic, truly. Lucifer huffs, deflating, sinking further into his seat. Weighed down by obscene amounts of longing that poured freely off Dean like a broken hydrant. Funneled into his awareness because its usual drain was cordoned forever. It flooded these now silent angelic air waves, Lucifer growing more annoyed with each, excruciating second. Until, finally, “Holy hell, can you please quit it?”

           Dean startles from where he stood, jaw tensing. Mouth flattening in a thin line as he glares, “What?”

           “Quit. It. Quitit!” He hisses, leaning forward. Stretches his arms across the table, reaching for Dean. Fingers twitching, Lucifer imagines Dean’s neck between them. “Seriously, you’re giving me a migraine with all your feelings.”

           “Good.” Dean surprises Lucifer with his response. No attempted denial, nor misdirection. His gaze unflinchingly pierced through Lucifer’s vessel, pride bolstering its blow. Lucifer cannot detect any shame that usually clings to his soul, none of that smell lingering. He’s grown since they’ve last seen each other. Stunning character development. “Deserve it, after that dick move you pulled earlier.”

           “You still upset about that?” Scoffing, Lucifer rises. Meanders across the room towards Dean, gaze never straying. Easy since it’s only them. “I thought my gift would have more than made up for that.” He grins, rocking on his heels. A breadth of space separates them now. “How else was I supposed to get in, anyway?” he continues, “Not like if I called as myself you’d’ve rolled out the welcome mat.”

           “But… Cas?” Lucifer savors the taste of his brother’s name, drenched in sadness. Ripped from Dean’s heart in a barely controlled sob.

           “Nasty habit,” he giggles, “Though the results speak for themselves. I mean – you know how easy it was smooth-talking little Sammy when I looked like his ol’ flame, Jess?” Dean doesn’t laugh, snarled lip suffocating Lucifer’s airy mirth. “You’re no fun.”

           “Sorry,” Dean growls, “why don’t you try later when the world’s not ending.”

           “It’s always ending. In one way or another.” Lucifer waves his hand and a chair drags itself over. He straddles it, gazing up at Dean. “If we waited for peace to enjoy life, there’d be no time. Better to… say what’s in your heart, even if it kills you.” He frowns, mockingly, “Or in Castiel’s case… did kill him.”

           Dean slams his fist against the wall. “You have no right –“

           “Timeout there,” Lucifer smirks, eyes glowing red. Reflection of Dean’s entire face, blood rapidly swelling his cheeks. “Don’t want to do anything you’ll regret…” He holds Dean there, frozen, waits until the other man seems calm. Dips his head, tries catching Dean’s gaze. “If I let you go, will you behave?” Dean remains silent, yet Lucifer hears him. Tunes into his frequency, actively sifting through his frenzied emotions. “Seriously,” he lets Dean go, hunter falling on his ass, “how are we supposed to work as a team if you’re not willing to cooperate?”

           “This… isn’t a team,” Dean spits, “you’re working… with the Empty.”

           “And the Empty’s trying to take Chuck out!” he argues, “So, enemy of my enemy is my friend or all that nonsense –“

           “Go to hell.”

           “I wish I could, but I’m kinda on a short leash.” Bored with Dean’s resistance, Lucifer threads his next few words with seriousness. “Listen, once Betty’s done with the book I’ll flit on out of here and one, two, three – humanity is saved from dear, ol’ dad! We can make this all painless if you’d just trust me, or we can keep doing what we’re doing. I, personally, am tired of this bullshit. Rather be napping back in the Empty, but no…”

           “You should be.”

           “Beg pardon?”

           Dean bares his teeth, roiling hatred knocking Lucifer back a few inches. “You should still be sleeping, back there,” he says, “if anyone were supposed to come back, it’d be Cas. Not… you…”

           “Ah, Castiel, yes…” Lucifer sighs, “that would make sense, wouldn’t it? Of course, he lacks my raw power and charm, but… yes, you’d trust anything that he said.” Hand on his throat, he affects his vocal cords. Mimicking the other angel’s gravelly tone again, “Dean, please go along with Lucifer’s wishes and help him –“

           “Enough!” Dean kicks at a chair leg, interrupting Lucifer. Tears threaten to pour, dangling from his lashes like morning dew. “If you really wanna play nice, you’d stop doing that.”

           “This is nice, buddy.” Lucifer pokes at Dean’s leg with the toe of his boot. “Why don’t you grow some thick skin, huh? Where’s the real Dean Winchester? That tough guy with endless bravado instead of this sad, sorry piece of shit that’s pining after some dead guy?”

           Dean turns, Adam’s apple bobbing. “That isn’t me. I… he never was.” An intimate confession whispered into ancient brickwork. Meaningful for a different crowd. Except Lucifer shows little care, sarcastic clapping shattering Dean’s moment.

           “Wow, Dean… really fantastic. Amazing!” He climbs off the chair, crouching closer. Tongue dragged over his lips, smile wide. “Your verbose diction astounds me… did you whip that together after my brother got dragged into super hell? Are you still workshopping it – okay if I give you a few notes?” Lucifer pinches Dean’s cheek, poking this rabid grizzly. “At least you’ve got that face. Clearly Cas didn’t fall for your emotional maturity, your observational prowess or timing…”

           He weakly bats Lucifer off him, “You don’t know anything…”

      ��    “I think I know quite a lot,” Lucifer challenges him, “Between the both of us, only I managed to slip inside my tight-ass little brother. Probably why I knew all his little… perversions, although it was clear as day how he felt about you to everyone – well… almost everyone.” His hand settles on Dean’s chest, atop his heart. “Do you know amazing it was, when I slipped my blade through him? You were a buffet that night… fear, relief, hope… despair. I could’ve ended him in that other dimension, but I waited until he crossed back. Knew how much more painful it’d be.”

           “Monster,” Dean says, “Fucking psychopath.”

           “The old me, maybe.” Lucifer teleports, sitting on a nearby table. Legs absentmindedly pedaling, stirring confusion within Dean. “But I’ve been reborn on the right side, Dean. Nobler. I’ve got purpose.”

           “You’ve got a load of shit,” he accuses, standing on shaky legs, “that you’re trying to sell me. Us.”

           “Come on!” Lucifer groans, hands flying skyward, “Isn’t this supposed to be your eleventh hour? How can you be so stubborn? Here I come, with a Hail Mary, and you’re turning your nose up at me like some snob. Like you have better options waiting. All because you won’t work with the Empty –“

           “It’s not just that,” Dean corrects him, “I also don’t want to work with you.”

           He crosses his arms, pouting. “You’re gonna have to suck that up. So the Empty wouldn’t send your boytoy, do you blame them? For a broken, little thing he sure is popular. Who’s to say Cas’d come back once this all wraps up? At least the Empty trusts me.”

           “I guess something has to.”

           “You can, too, if you want.” Lucifer casts his reel wide, waiting. Eyebrows waggling like baited worms. “It’d be a hell lot easier than what you’re doing now. Come on…” he needles, “why is it so hard to believe in miracles?”

           “Please…” Dean says, hiding his face behind his knees. Arms circled around his legs, curled into a ball. “Stop talking.”

           He relents for the time being. Proud of what cracks in Dean’s armor he made. When Chuck sent him, he asked Lucifer to ruffle a few feathers. Mess with their heads, ensure this ragtag group of losers would stay down. Accept their fate, end this miserable experiment called humanity in sadness. “Don’t provoke them too much, though,” Chuck warned, fists curled along his jacket’s lapels, “Betrayals only work when the other side doesn’t expect them. Plot’s stretched thin as it is, bringing you back doesn’t really make sense –“

           “I love you too, dad.”

           “That’s why you need to lay it on thick,” he said, “steer them away from why, keep the action moving.”

           Lucifer stared down at his father, frowning. “Anything else you need?”

           “No,” Chuck clapped Lucifer’s shoulder, nodding. “Just be yourself.”

           Except none of them wanted him. Especially Dean. He wanted… Castiel.

           It’s a little off-script, but Lucifer bets Chuck will enjoy what he plans. Even if it’ll involve his least favorite character. Lucifer hops off the table, grace burning across his body. Razing this vessel’s form, stealing its characteristics and distinguishability. A tall mound of clay left that he molds into a new body. Darker hair, sturdier frame, and bluer eyes. “Dean,” he says, swallowing his laughter. “Dean…” He tries again, sounding exactly like him.

           Like Castiel.

           Dean tenses, “Cas?” Barely audible, Lucifer strained to hear his prayer. That hope, sweetness quickly bittering as Dean digests the scene. “No…” he sighs, mumbling into his legs. “Lucifer, thought I told you to quit it.”

           “Lucifer is gone, Dean,” he lies, kneeling. “I’m here… please, Dean, look at me.” Lucifer grabs at Dean’s head, thankful the other man lets him. Green finds masked-blue, their ‘reunion’ drawing a pained breath.

           “What?” Dean asks, a single tear slipping free. Trails along his cheek until it falls off his chin. “How – how is this happening?”

           “Because of you, Dean.” Lucifer’s hands shift, a thumb smearing that tearstain while he runs fingers through Dean’s hair. “You refused Lucifer’s help, even though what he said was true. The Empty saw and decided, if we were to truly end Chuck, the risk of sending me will be worth it.” Expression darkening, Lucifer leans into dramatics. Lips quivering as he recites his next line, “Though not without conditions, Dean – I… you know I can’t stay, right?”

           “You will,” he says, “Cas – we will… if this book really can end Chuck, and we take him out, what can the Empty do –“

           “Take you,” Lucifer cuts him off. “Take you… Sam, and Jack. I step even an inch out of line and we all get sucked into their being, with no hope of actually defeating my father.” He nearly breaks character, watching how the light in Dean’s eyes flickered before being snuffed. Lucifer regains composure, growling his next words. “You understand this, then? What it means?”

           Dean nods, snaking his hands across Lucifer’s wrists. “Means we don’t have long,” he barks, squeezing tight. “I have to set it right, right now.”

           “Dean –“

           “No, Cas,” Dean talks over him, guiding Lucifer’s hands off where they rested. Silences the disguised archangel by chaining him, making Lucifer a helpless victim. Awe real as he waits for Dean, cowed by longing powerful than his earlier annoyance. “I… I need to get through this because – well, the last time you didn’t let me get a word in edgewise and I, there was a lot left unsaid that I don’t want to stay that way. If we can’t have a future, then at least… at least we have here.” He laughs, choking on it. More tears dance their way down.

           “When you told me you loved me, I couldn’t believe it,” Dean confesses, “and then, when you told me why I – I was… I believed that less. I mean, you… you’ve listened to your heart more than I have. Even if a few of those times it was wrong, everything you did was for love. Knowing you was – that was my happiness. Having you, in whatever way you’d let me. Because there you were, this shining beacon, and for some reason you kept on letting me bask in your glow. I felt I… I didn’t deserve it. That I didn’t deserve you.”

           Dean brings Lucifer’s knuckles to his lips, pressing a light kiss along a patch of skin. The gesture disgusts him. “And you were right about how – I thought of myself so… so poorly, it kept me from saying and – and doing things I wish I’d done sooner. All my life I thought there were things I couldn’t have, rules I had to live by, and I never questioned them until you saved me from hell. Literal and figurative. Because of you, I wanted to be a better person. I wanted to be good. But I never believed I could. Then you tell me you loved me… because I was good. I already was the kind of person I thought seemed impossible. I couldn’t believe it. What’s stranger… I didn’t have to believe it, to know it’s true.” Dean smiles at him, Lucifer mirroring his gesture though it pained him. “I’m the person I always wished I could be, and even when you’re gone I’ll still be that person. I’ll miss you, Cas. Always. I’ll miss you, and I’ll love you. I’ll love you always.”

           It happens before Lucifer realizes. Distracted, nauseated by Dean’s powerful emotions, he missed how a hand snuck its way towards his neck. Pinched there, startling him. In that second, Dean forces Lucifer into an embrace. Lips crashing together, Lucifer stays frozen while Dean attacks his mouth. Mewling, whimpering.

           Disgusting.

           He pulls the curtains back, reverting to his previous form. Delights in how Dean senses the change, peeking with one eye as Castiel’s face vanishes. The other man violently hurls himself to the side, gaping at him. “Why Dean,” Lucifer grins, awkwardness heavy in his tone, “if I had known that’s how you felt about me…”

           Dean sobs, wiping at his lips. “How… what the –“

           “You really thought I was Cas, didn’t you?” Laughing, Lucifer towers over him. “I figured you’d catch on but… I underestimated you. And for that I’m sorry.” He devours these new emotions radiating from Dean, eagerly lapping them up. “I’m also sorry that you’ve convinced you deserve a happy ending,” he twists the knife further. Dean flinches, turning. Fleeing. Lucifer shouts at his retreating figure. “That’s not your story, Dean! Don’t ask for more, be happy with what you have!”

           Then, as he waits for his next babysitter, Lucifer’s eyes glow red. “Because soon enough… you won’t even have that.”

[smol-and-grumpy]

Something Just Like This - CH27

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.

Warnings: NSFW, just really fluffy, dash of angst.

WC: 3491

SERIES MASTERLIST

As usual, Dean’s already up when she wakes. He’s been working mostly when she’s already asleep or before she wakes up so he can take care of her during the day. But that, she thinks, is no way to live. She feels the guilt nagging at her. Hates that he has to go out of his way and all of it only because she was too stupid and jumped into the line of fire. 

Well, he thinks that she saved his life and maybe she really did but she did it gladly, would probably do it again. It’s not like she wants to play a hero, it’s more that she’s grown up selfless and she really doesn’t know anything else than risking her life for others. Not really a great treat, probably.

Y/N gets up to use the bathroom. She decides to wash her face and brush her teeth. Still feels groggy from the last pain medication she had to take last night. From today on, she’ll be drug free. It’s the eighth day that she’s been home. Her wound has healed, it just needs tending to every day for it not to leave a nasty scar. She’s still not allowed to use her arm too much for the next week, though. 

“What are you doing?” He’s standing in their bedroom and leans his head against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest.

“Brushing my teeth and washing my face?” She replies a little annoyed. It came out exactly how she feels on the inside. And the guilt is back because she didn’t want to snap at Dean. She’s just frustrated with everything at the moment and he happens to be the only other person in here. The only person she can project her anger towards.

“I can see that, but why didn’t you tell me. What if you get up too fast and you black out and hit your head somewhere?”

“My god, Dean, I’m not a fucking toddler. I can get up and pee on my own!” She hisses, and storms out, Dean has to take a step to the side as not to be in her way. 

Y/N climbs back into bed, she’s still feeling too tired and she’s mad. Mad that this all happened to her. But mostly, she’s mad that she knows all she has with Dean will be over soon. And now she feels bad for being mad at Dean because he had her best interest at heart. 

Dean climbs back to bed with her, spoons her from behind. He’s still in a t-shirt and pj bottoms. “I’m sorry that you feel like I’m crushing you.” He whispers and it makes her feel even more guilty, if that’s even possible. He snuggles up against her, his big arms holding her tightly. “Do you want me to leave? I can go out for the day, leave you alone.”

She strokes his arm, feels his muscle underneath his skin. “Don’t you get tired of being holed up with me all the time?”

He chuckles against the side of her neck, buries his face deeper into the crook of her neck. “Nuh-uh.”

“You’re weird,” She mumbles, “I’m sorry you have to take care of me.”

“That’s alright. You kind of saved my life.” He then pulls at the collar of her sleep shirt, brings it down past her shoulder and spreads kisses along her exposed flesh. “In more ways than you think.”

Y/N smiles as he continues to nose behind her ear. She gets restless at that, feels her body heating up. Dean slips a hand underneath her shirt, fingertips skidding over the goosebumps on her belly until he cups one of her tits in his hand, fingers twisting at her nipple and she moans out softly. It has been way too long and she feels a sudden need to feel him. How could he behave for so long? She doesn’t know if she could have, if it was the other way around. 

She wriggles with her hips, pushing against him and feels his hard bulge poking at her ass. 

“Baby, you’re not back to health yet.” He says but his voice is strained. She knows that it takes everything in him to utter those words, his self control is hanging by a thread and she’s ready to take a scissor and cut through the thread.

“Please?” She whines, and she really needs it. Feels like she’s going to suffocate in her want if he doesn’t give in. 

Dean loosens his grip, lets her grind into him when he hears her whine. “You absolutely sure?”

“Uh-huh,” She nods and Dean’s hand that was on her tit travels down, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties to lower them. She helps him by desperately kicking it off her legs. 

“Fuck,” Dean mutters as his fingers find her clit and feels that she’s already wet. “Still getting wet pretty fast as always, huh?” 

She tilts her head up and to the side, finds him looking down at her and he kisses her, his tongue plays around in her mouth. It has been way too long since they kissed like this. Mainly because Dean’s afraid that if they start, he’ll have a hard time to stop and she’s still recovering. And he was kind of right because my god, his kisses are so good. She’s basically gasping for air when they part, his fingers are lazily rubbing at her clit. “Dean, please?”

“What do you want?” He asks as if he doesn’t know. And that’s the little shit speaking out of him because he knows exactly what she wants but he likes to hear her say it.

“Want your hard cock in my pussy, please? I’m wet enough I swear. I miss your dick stretching me out. Miss feeling your cum inside of me.” And she’s sometimes a little shit too, for giving him more than he bargained for.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N,” Dean let’s out some more profanities as his fingers leave her clit to pull down the waistband of his pj bottoms. Pj bottoms she once bought him because she thought they were cute. It has cats on it. “You really sure?” 

She hears him spit into his hand, wetting his cock, can feel him stroking his dick and lays it to her clit, he moves his hips, thrusting into the apex of her thighs, coating his lengths with her wetness.

It already feels good as it is but she wants more. 

“I’m sure.” 

Dean’s breathing picks up as he holds his cock and nudges against her entrance. She parts her thighs slightly for him for better access. “Just know, I’m not going hard, fast or dee— god dammit!” He pushes in and he’s breathing through his mouth. 

She moans at the intrusion. It has been way too long. It feels way too good. 

“Shit, I was gonna say deep. I’m not going deep.” Dean’s words are strained and he’s clearly gritting his teeth. “Christ, baby, did you get tighter?”

Dean spreads out his arm, so that she can lay her head on it, his other arm comes up around her, slipping underneath her shirt again and he kneads her tits while he fucks up into her at a slow pace. 

“Dean,” 

“Nuh-uh, don’t even try to persuade me.”

“Please,” 

“Baby, I can barely hold myself together as it is, I can’t fuck you harder.” He whispers, because he knows exactly what she wants him to do and he’s not wrong.

She lets out a whine and turns her head into his arm, takes in his scent, feels his soft skin. Dean Winchester has freckles all over. 

“You can rub me, please?” She whines again and wriggles her hips, trying to get him to fuck her deeper. 

He moves his hand that was kneading her tits lower, skids over her tummy, dibs into her belly button on the way down until he rubs at her with his long thick fingers and she moans out in pleasure. It’s the best feeling in the world. She’s missed this so much. 

“Dean, don’t stop, don’t stop, oh my god.” She closes her eyes, feeling the pressure building. 

“Will you come for me, baby? You feel so fucking good, I’m… fuck.” Dean groans loud and deep next to her ear.

Y/N comes as soon as she feels his warm cum coating her insides, bites into his arm, she couldn’t help herself. “Shit, I’m sorry,” She says as she looks at her bite mark. There’s red blood on the surface. The skin didn’t break, though. 

“That’s okay,” He mutters under his breath, laughs a little as he still thrusts in and out lazily until his dick goes soft. 

It’s a lot of cum, too, still seeping out around her hole, she can feel the sticky mess in between her thighs.

“I think I blacked out. Didn’t even feel you biting me.” He kisses her shoulder, “I’ve missed this. Missed how good you feel around me. But I’m also not gonna fuck you again today, don’t even try.”

She let out a sigh because that’s basically what she wants after she’s got a reminder of how good it feels.

“Not even if I pout?” She asks, and Dean laughs. 

“Not even then.”

  Dean was true to his words. Didn’t fuck Y/N again that day but he got into the shower with her and ate her out on their bed after, made her come twice more. He just had to, couldn’t not because he’s been missing it too. 

He was being good for almost two weeks, let her see that their relationship does not involve around sex, and she knew that before already, of course she did. They have gone without sex for a couple of days already before that. Even made a bet once who could go longer without it. She lost her shit after four days and rode his dick that night like she’s a madwoman. He didn’t mind and was secretly happy that her walls crumbled down first because he was sure that his balls were slowly falling off with all the teasing that she made.

Things began to get back to normal pretty soon and Dean dared to go out to meetings more while she spends her day drawing, and if she’s not running errands, she goes for long walks. Walks that he sometimes joins too if he’s free. But more often than not, she’s going alone and does stupid things like a week ago.

He came home and as soon as he opened the door to the bedroom, she disappeared into the bathroom, locking the door behind herself.

Dean was wondering why until he saw the evidence on their bed. Cuddles was there and there’s also another cat, a little one, probably maybe five months old if Dean had to guess. It was wrapped in a blanket while Cuddles was licking at it. 

“Y/N! Why are you in there!” He shouted and walked to the bathroom, knocked on the door. 

“I’m pooping!” 

“No, you are not!”

“I am!”

“Why is there a cat on our bed?”

“It’s Cuddles!”

“No, it’s not!”

She unlocked the door and walked out, her face flushed. “Okay, okay! I found it on the side of the road. It has probably lost its mother.”

“We are not keeping it.”

“Why not?”

“Because we already have Cuddles!” He looked back to see Cuddles still licking away and rubbed his face on the new intruder. What a fucking traitor. 

And that is the story, how they got another cat. 

On Dean’s walks with her, he’ll talk to her about Operation Freedom — a code name only they use. She’s been honest with her thoughts and ideas. He likes it much more than the bunch of ass kissing dickheads he employed. 

She suggested improvements to his way of distributing goods and after implementing them, his profits surged. He basically trusts her with business decisions too and that’s a good thing, ain’t it. 

It almost made him think that maybe she was made for this life better than he thought she would be. Made him think about being here with her, leading this organization until they have kids to take over. 

The thought always gets shattered when she’s standing naked before him and he gets a glimpse at her scar that’s almost healed. And then he sees all the scars on himself and he’s back at the thought he always had. The thought that how all this — is no way to live. It’s not a good life, it’s a dangerous one. It might be comfortable not having to worry about money, comfortable when people do what you tell them to, but it doesn’t make life more worthwhile. It’s all just a farce.

Nonetheless, since they still have a couple of months left before Operation Freedom, he thinks it can’t hurt if she knows how to handle a firearm. She’s probably never touched a gun in her life and he’s going to show her. Will get her one, just in case. He hopes that she’ll agree to let him teach her.

 *

 “We’re doing what?” She turns to ask him as he parks in the garage of the bunker.

“You heard me.”

“Why? I don’t think I need to carry a firearm.”

He gets out of the car, walks around to open the door for her. “You don’t have to. I just wanna see if you can handle weapons.”

She gets out of the car with a super stupid grin on her face. So stupid that Dean knows she’s plotting to say something unbelievably not funny. 

“Baby, no.”

“Why baby, yes!” She’s laughing already, thinking she’s the funniest thing since sliced bread, and it’s almost stupid that he’s already laughing with her, even if he hasn’t heard what she’s saying yet. “Why do you say no even if you haven’t listened to what I wanted to say?”

“Because I know that look on your face. It’s gonna be something stupid.”

“It’s not!” She protests.

“Okay, fine!” He sighs, knows that he’s going to regret it, but he just can’t say no to her, “Go on, humor me.”

“I know how to handle your weapon, isn’t that enough?” She’s doubling over laughing by now.

“Oh my god.” Dean groans and rolls his eyes and she takes the opportunity while he’s unprepared to palm his crotch, making him jump up.

This girl, seriously.

 *

 “Have you ever had a gun in your hand?” Dean asks, and then he adds, “And, shush! I don’t mean my gun, alright? Focus!”

“Ah, then yes.” She says with a straight face but there’s still a glint of playfulness in her eyes. Dean’s ashamed to admit that the look alone makes him weak. She explained that her dad always used to teach her and it makes him wonder if there’s anything she can’t do.

He’s surprised at her answer, though. But holy shit she showed him, fired six rounds into the bullseye in quick succession without batting an eye. 

She’s a badass and he’s a little ashamed that watching her shoot a weapon turns him on very much. It’s not only the way she can handle a firearm. It’s also the way she holds it up, the little tongue peeking at the corner of her lips, the squinting of an eye, the smile when she sees that she hit the target.

“So, teacher, how did I do?” She asks, her face beaming. 

He pulls her closer by the collar of her shirt, kisses her. Couldn’t not do it. “A+.” He says when he parts and she sucks at his bottom lip that strangely works as some line that’s connected right to his cock.

“Did I win something?”

“Oh, baby, you always win something.” He kisses her again but pulls away before it gets too hot. “Let’s go home, I’m hungry.”

 *

 He couldn’t wait until they were inside, and had to push her against the elevator wall, making her hook her legs around his body. Dean steps out of the elevator like this, with her attached to him, and he proceeds to unlock the door, misses the lock twice because the way she sucks at his throat is quite fucking distracting.

Once inside, he sets her down and works on the button and zip of her jeans, pulling them down together with her panties. Today is a thong kinda day, apparently. 

He didn’t even manage to get the pants off her one leg, letting it hang there and crouches down, spreads his arms and tells her to hop on. His hands grip around the back of her thighs, lifts her upwards until he could lay her legs around his shoulders. She’s shrieking out, hands scrambling at his head, afraid to fall. 

Dean chuckles, manages to say, “Baby, I got you.” Before he buries his face in her cunt, his tongue working in circles on her clit and she’s still scratching at his head, blunt nails digging into his scalp. 

Standing up, he balances her on his shoulders, his hands on her back, holding her up while he walks inside, lips still attached to her pussy, sucking and lapping at her, the sound of her wet cunt is loud, her moans of pleasure echoes in the spacious apartment. Y/N’s soaked and it’s the best fucking thing. 

He lays her down on the dining table, thinks she's the best meal that’s ever been brought on that table and he grins before he leans over her, his hands on the back of her knees as he folds her in half. 

Licking a broad stripe through her center, she keens and moans below him. He gets up a little, looks at the pink of her cunt that glistens in the light of the dining room table. 

“So fucking beautiful,” He breathes out and it’s almost like his heart is bursting. “Cutest little pussy.” He growls before he drives in again, her pussy lips part as he pushes his nose through the wetness. 

The tip of his tongue tickles her clit, and he nibbles at it, making her grab and fist at his hair. He dives in more, pushes his tongue into her hole, fucks her there while his nose bumps against her clit and she’s so close because she’s clenching around his tongue. 

With every clench, she pushes more slick to the outside, he’s slurping it up, drinks it in. “Jesus, you’re so fucking delicious,” He manages to say, although his voice sounds broken, he has barely enough air to breathe. 

“Dean, I..fuck!” She writhes above him and her hand in his hair pulls him further in. By now she’s grinding her pussy against his face, searching for that friction that will push her over the edge and he let’s her. How could he not.

There’s a vibration in his pants pocket, but he lets it ring. Not going to make the mistake to interrupt her when she’s so close. 

“Oh my god,” There’s a noise, high and scratchy as she breaks apart above him and he trains his eyes up, watches her trembling jaw as she comes undone. 

Fucking beautiful sight. It’s been months and he never gets tired of seeing her come. Sometimes, when he’s really alone and she’s still at work, he pulls the image out of his memories, jerks himself off to it and he never needed a lot, comes instantly when he thinks of her. 

She really has no idea what effect she has on him.

“Shit,” She’s panting, pulls him up towards her by his hair and it hurts but he loves it.

He looks at her, their noses touch and he’s sure that she soils his dress shirt, it’s just that he can’t really bring himself to care. She brushes the wetness of his scruff, pulls him in for a kiss before she parts again, obviously needs more time to recover, and he chuckles at that. 

Y/N releases him, and he stands up straight, pulls her to the edge of the table as he gets his phone out of his pocket and thumbs at her oversensitive clit with his other hand. She whines a little at that. 

Dean calls Crowley back while she’s still lying on the table like a fucking feast. It needs everything in him not to just pull his cock out and drive it in but he talks on the phone like the professional he is. 

“Just finished eating.” He says into the phone with a stupid grin on his face, he sees her rolling her eyes, “Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

He hangs up, smacks her pussy with his hand, making her yelp up and he laughs. 

Dean helps and pulls her up one handed. “So, what do you think about a visit to Crowley’s strip club?”

CH28

[sourcherrybomb]

SoKai Week 2020 - Day 6 - One More For the Road

Synopsis: At an unknown time, in an unknown place, Kairi asks Sora for one more of his beloved stories.

(There are two more bonus sketches at the end of the oneshot!)

Sneak Peek: “What are some of the more… romantic ones you know, then?” 

Tags: Romance, All Ages, F/M

Prompt for the Day: Connection / Fate

Words: 1k

Fanart by: Popipapepu (Fiverr)

---

“Hey Sora?” 

“Yeah Kairi?”

“Tell me a story.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, right now!” 

“Kairi, as much as I’d love to-”

“Oh I know you would.” 

“I’m just not too sure if there’s enough time for that right now.”

“Come on, please?”

“It’s just that I promised everyone that we’d be quick about this, I don’t wanna leave them worried, you know?”

“Listen, everyone’s doing fine right now! I’m sure they wouldn’t mind waiting just a little bit longer.”

“You’re really pushing- Oh come on, don’t give me that face!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah right! That’s the face you always make.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh!”

“Sora you might as well just give up now, this face always gets you and you know it!”

“Get real! Look at my face and how your stupid one doesn’t affect me at all!”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Okay fine, one story!”

“Haha! Score one for Kairi!”

“So which one is it gonna be this time around? Altair and Vega like usual?”

“Sounds tempting, but honestly I think I’d like to hear a new one.”

“A new one, huh? Did I ever tell you about Aquila? How about Endymion or Bismarck?”

“As much as I love hearing you talking about stars and constellations, maybe something from one of the worlds you’ve been to.”

“I mean from our perspective right now, how could you even tell the difference between stars and other worlds?”

“Hey, don’t get smart with me! If I wanted snark I’d talk to Riku or Axel.”

“What can I say, they’ve rubbed off on me. Anyways, what kind of story would you want to listen to anyways?”

“I know I turned it down, but something like Altair and Vega. Except maybe a more happy ending.”

“It always comes back to them, huh?”

“What can I say, I relate to it. Especially after all we’ve been through. A happier ending would be nice, maybe one where the hero and heroine get to stay together.”

“Hmm, I might have to think about this. I’ve heard so many stories from a bunch of different worlds.”

“What are some of the more… romantic ones you know, then?”

“Romantic, huh? With the same vibes as Altair and Vega… Oh, I think I got one!”

“You do? Sweet!”

“Yeah, it’s one my friends Mushu and Mulan told me. It’s called The Story of the Red String of Fate.”

“Sounds mysterious… I like it!”

“I have a feeling you will!”

“Hey now, don’t look all satisfied when you haven’t even told me the story yet.”

“Okay, okay. Let me start then.”

There once was a young noble girl and the son of a stablehand.

Bored with her life, she desired adventure, something the boy and his horses were more than willing to entertain.

Over time, the stablehand became smitten with the noble girl. In secret, she returned his affection.

They kept this romance a secret until they grew into young adults. They planned to elope and leave by horseback when the time came.

However, war broke out in their country. 

The noble girl and stablehand realized that they would be separated. She would have to stay in the safety of her castle while the stablehand would be sent to war.

Wanting him to always have a way to remember her, the noble girl asked the stablehand to close his eyes. Agreeing, she unwound a red string from her royal garments. 

Cutting the thread in half, she tied one piece on her finger and the other on his.

Shocked by this, the stablehand declared that he would come back to her and return the keepsake hundredfold.

After this, the two were separated. For many years the war raged on, the noble girl becoming a noblewoman.

When the war finally came to an end, all the soldiers who survived returned home. In disguise, the noblewoman looked for her lover amongst the common soldiers, but could not find him. 

After days of searching, she resigned herself to the idea that the stablehand had died in battle.

In memory of him, she decided to keep the red string tied on her finger.

The next day, the noblewoman’s father approached her and told her that she was to be wed to one of the war heroes that fought for their country. 

Hiding her dejection, she thanked her father and followed him to meet her future husband. It was a soldier around her age.

When her father left the two alone, the soldier looked at the noblewoman. Smiling, he politely asked her to close her eyes. Uncaringly, she closed them.

When asked to open her eyes, the first thing she saw was a gorgeous red dress made of the finest silk. Surprised, the noblewoman asked the soldier why he had gifted her such an extravagant engagement present.

Laughing, the soldier simply responded that he was only keeping the promise that he made to her.

Briefly confused, it took a moment for the noblewoman to look at the soldier’s hand that was holding the dress. 

On it was a red string, tied on the same finger as the one she had done the same to the stablehand all those years ago.

Realizing who this soldier was, she pulls the former stablehand into an embrace that, to the two, felt like it lasted for ages.

She and her husband would wear the red strings on their hands for the rest of their lives.

“So? How was- Kairi are you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah! Just… Something flew into my eye for a moment. Shouldn’t I be asking you the same?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Geez, just don’t rub your eyes too hard like that. You’ll just make more come out, which will do the same to me.”

“I know, I know…”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Hey Sora?”

“Yeah Kairi?”

“Thanks for telling me one last story. I can’t help but feel like it’ll be… a while until I could hear another one from you.”

“You’re not wrong about that. You were right about something, though.”

“And what was that?”

“That I love telling you stories like this. I’d love to tell you another one, but I think we’ve run out of the little time we’ve had left at this point…”

“I had a feeling… Hey Sora?”

“Yeah Kairi?”

“Come here for a sec.”

“Sure, but we’re going to have to- mmph?!”

“...”

“...”

“Sorry… Just had to get one for the road. Sora, promise me one thing.”

“Anything…”

“When you come back to me, you better return that a hundredfold. Promise?”

“Promise.”

---

This was another little experiment for my writing. Just dialogue, nothing else. This totally wasn’t a last-minute decision in order to get something out before the deadline for Day 6. Nope, not at all. Still, I had fun writing it.

Just like with my Day 5 entry, I got to make my own spin on a legend. The Red String of Fate is such a prevalent tale in modern romantic media that it’s fun to see how different writers and authors use it (with various success)

As I said, this was my entry for Day 6 of SoKai Week 2020! The themes for the day were “Connection” and/or “Fate”. Once again, shoutout to the Sokai: Destined Oath Discord server, and a special thanks to the server member Gee for acting as my Beta Reader.

Thanks for Reading!

---

*Bonus Sketch Commissions*

[bittybattybunny]

If you're still doing the curse idea what about hearing the heart of a soulmate when there near by, only thinking it's your own mind playing tricks? (Ru...)

Sorry this one took me a bit! I was trying to think of the best way to make it work >:3 SO HERE WE GO

fic under the read more as normal!

If we’re talking timeline btw this happens in late March/ Early April; it’d be before the other cursed ficlets, but not long after he learned Eclipse’s secret and after he semi figures his feelings out just not how to address them.

(also a reminder; while I mention Eclipse wears silver colored things; REAL silver does actually harm her like werewolves in popular media. Both silver and Iron harm her. Most her stuff is made from Nickle or white gold!)

“Welcome!” her voice was warm as he walked into the rather homey shop. He nodded to the candy red haired woman as he browsed the shelves.

“Are you looking for anything in particular sir? An issue bothering you, a desire, a need?” she asked, making him jump. He hadn’t even heard her move from the counter. She laughed at his reaction, “I’m here to help, My shop fills a need when the heart seeks it.”

He blinked and frowned, “I… I don’t know. I just am… confused I guess. I thought the shop looked nice so I walked in.”

“Many wind up here for that purpose. I am Belle, the shop owner.”

“Snatcher.”

“Interesting name.” she laughed as she looked him over, “Very interesting.” her blue eyes twinkled. She crossed her arms with a chuckle, “well feel free to browse, if needed, I can also read your future!”

He blinked, “Oh is it that type of store…?” he frowned, “I don’t really believe in fortune telling.”

“That’s fine. You don’t need to.” She laughed, “It’s more…” she waved on hand as she thought of the words to use, “Guidance. You see the cards are random but they aren’t. You have probability. The meanings we assign are just that. Something we assigned them. How you use the information is all up to you. Chance, Coincidence, Fate. You build it yourself. Like soulmates!”

He listened carefully and frowned, hand to his chin, “Maybe then… I just…” he scowled, “Fate… Soulmates.. I don’t really like that sort of thing.” he gripped his shirt, “Last time i found my so called soulmate it ended poorly.”

Belle gave a laugh that echoed in the shop. She put a hand to his shoulder and winked, “Did you know…. You can change that?” 

“Huh?” he blinked, “but isn’t a soul mate… set in stone, like the one you are meant to find no matter what?”

“No, that’s a misunderstanding.” she shook her head and moved along the shelves. 

She rested her hand on a silver heart shaped locket, “A soulmate, is someone with whom you share your soul. Someone who can accept you. Who you can accept. I’ve found in my many, many years. Soulmates are created. Be it love, friendship, family. You make the soulmates. Yes, some soulmates you will find and feel you’ve known them forever, normally that occurs if you met and formed that bond in the past! My cousin, she and her husband are like that. As well as the group who became her generals.” 

She explained, “They met once and struck a bond, now they always find each other. My husband and I are the same. Same with my son, my daughters. As is my sister and her lover.” she sighed sadly, “Sadly Briar and Hemsworth have… a burnt thread.” she shook her head and took Snatcher’s hand. She set the necklace in it with a wink.

“Take this, free of charge. Maybe you’ll understand soulmates a bit better~!” she sang and pushed him towards the door. He tried to protest as the door was shut.

He turned but the shop was gone and he felt the color drain in his face. He looked at the locket and frowned. He put it around his neck and played with the pendant and sighed, “I wonder if I can put the kid and Eclipse in this…”

He sighed. He had more questions than answers thanks to that odd woman. He looked back where the shop had been and scowled.

----

Ba-Thump, ba-thump, ba-thump

He woke from his nap and rubbed his eyes annoyed. He put a hand to his chest as the noise continued. He looked around confused.

“Snatcher?” 

He turned to see Eclipse leaning in the doorway.

Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump. It was louder and a little faster.

“Ah… Hey.” he grunted and got up.

Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump. It sped up as he walked over to her and leaned on the door frame.

“What’s up?” he frowned and hit his ear.

“You okay?” she asked and reached to hold his cheek. He sighed as he leaned into her hand.

“I’m hearing a weird noise. I’m fine. I’m just tired.” he mumbled.

“Hrm. then I guess that answer’s my next question.” she pursed her lips and pulled away. 

“What?” he tilted his head as she moved towards the fridge.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to go out to eat.” she laughed, “If you’re tired enough to hear noises, then I think it’s best we don’t. You should rest, I can go get a pizza or a dozen.” she laughed.

He frowned as he walked over and reached into the fridge. The noise got even faster as he pressed against her and he scowled, “I swore I had some stuff marinating this morning…”

“Oh. Hattie knocked it on the floor before school.” Eclipse sighed, “So I threw it out, did you not get my text?”

“No? May have been when I was in that weird shop.” he sighed and pulled away, the noise began to slow in his ears.

“Weird shop?” she asked and stood up, hand to her hip, “which?” she tilted her head confused, silver hair bouncing.

“Yeah, when i was in town getting some stuff for making a scarf for myself. I found a weird little shop. The owner was weird and gave me a locket after saying some weird stuff.” he explained and pulled the locket off. As soon as it left his neck the noise faded off. 

Eclipse reached and pulled back wincing. She gripped her hand in pain as Snatcher noticed the sizzling. He dropped the locket and reached for her hand. He saw the burned flesh and gasped. He brought her hand to his mouth quickly and licked it despite her protests. He frowned before sighing in relief seeing it return to normal. He glared at the necklace.

“Well. You got something worthwhile I guess!” she laughed, squatting down to look at the offender with a frown, “that has to be pure, undiluted silver.” she used the back of her hand to wipe the tears from her eyes, “been a while since I’ve accidentally grabbed pure silver.”

“Silver?” he picked it up with a scowl, “I don’t want it if it hurts you.” he whined.

She laughed again and poked his nose with a big grin. “I’m okay.” she held her hand up, “You actually just prevented me from getting a very odd heart shaped scar.” she giggled. “I told you before, silver is one thing that causes these scars.” she gave him a soft smile, “I’m okay, I’m okay~” she sang, holding her hand up to show him it was alright thanks to him.

He gave a soft smile and tucked it in his pocket. He brought her hand to his mouth making her blush.

Ba-Thump.

Ba-Thump.

[sweetiejunie]

idk if requests are open rn, but an angst/fluff soulmate au with Beomgyu would make me really happy. If requests aren’t open then it’s okay^^

—.✿ฺ—

Rewrite the stars

Summary: you weren’t meant to be together. And it freaked you out. But beomgyu? He’s always been your rock.

Genre: angst, fluff

Beomgyu x reader

A/n: huehue thanks for the request anonie!! First time i wrote a soulmate fic 🥴 but hope u enjoyed! I tried :’)

=====================================

The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of place, time, or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break. Beomgyu watched as you laid in his arms, staring at the red string tied around your pinky. He knew this was wrong. You weren’t supposed to be with him. But he loved you, and you loved him.

It was a fluke that the two of you met. It was a fluke that you fell for each other. But that faithful day he decided to ignore his instincts, was probably the best decision he’s ever made.

You hated that you lived in a world where ‘soulmates’ existed as a concept. You had always thought it was just a social construct, but you can’t ignore the disapproving looks you got while you walked down the streets hand-in-hand with the boy that wasn’t fated to be with you. Why couldn’t the thread be tied around his pinky instead of some stranger you haven’t met? Faith, and the universe, just had to be a bitch.

Beomgyu, on the other hand, he never cared. He loved you, and that was all that mattered to him. Who cares about what others thought about you? Everyone around him told him that it wasn’t right, but nothing ever convinced him. He swore to be by your side no matter what, and it was a promise he planned to keep. On the days when you started to doubt your relationship, he was there. On days when the harsh reality of society got to you, he was there. He was there with you through thick and thin.

“You’re overthinking about the piece of thread again,” he suddenly spoke, knocking you out of your dazed stated when he caught you playing with the string around your left pinky.

You blushed, hiding your hand in a fist as you apologised, “Im sorry.”

“No need to apologise, my love.”

Beomgyu truly was the sweetest. Through all your panic and doubt, he still chose to stay with you and never expected anything in return.

Even the time you almost broke up with him because of everything people were telling you. How you weren’t fated to last or how he was going to leave you once he met his real soulmate. After all this time, that day is still engraved deep in his mind, stuck with him like the plague. After all, the most painful memories are the hardest to forget — the day he almost lost you.

That evening, beomgyu invited you to dinner to meet his parents. You had been dating for a while now, and he thought it was the perfect time for the most important people in his life to finally meet. There was just one small catch, okay, a pretty big catch. Since you weren’t soulmates, his parents weren’t biggest fan of you.

“Why would you agree to that? You know your parents aren’t typically that fond of me. Now you want me to sit barely a feet away from them for, gods knows how many hours?”

“Come on y/n, don’t worry so much. It’ll be fine, and I’ll be with you the whole time, alright?” Beomgyu replied, pouting at you, hoping that tonight would be the night his parents saw just how loving and kind you were. He wanted so badly for you to get along, but that proved to be just a wish.

“Fine, only for you. But don’t you dare leave me.”

As the night went on, beomgyus parents didn’t do anything too out of the ordinary, asking the usual interrogating questions any parent would ask the significant other of their child. But through the night, you had half a mind that every now and then they would glare at you. Then again, you were extremely nervous, so it could have just been you overthinking or your overactive imagination. But the moment beomgyu had excused himself to use the washroom, your suspicions were confirmed.

“Ill just be a second,” he whispered to you as he pushed he chair back.

The moment he was out of sight, his mother spoke, “listen, y/n. I’m going to be frank with you. I think you’re a really nice girl, but i want you to leave beomgyu,” venom evident in every word.

Her statement caught you off guard, and the only respond your brain could process was, “huh?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s clear that you two are not meant to be together. After-all, you aren’t soulmates. No amount of love can fix or change that.” She paused, only to continue when you didn’t reply, “and i just want the best for beomgyu. I’m sure you do too. One day, I want him to be able to find true love without being held back by anything... or anyone.”

Her words rang in your head over and over again. Were you really just a burden to beomgyu? Was he really going to leave you one of these days?

“I- er- Excuse me. Sorry, i have to go. Ill see myself out,” you stated, your head hung low as you hurried to gather your thing. “ Thank you for the dinner.”

You made your way to the front door, clicking it shut behind you. Ignoring the sound of the bathroom door opening and beomgyu’s voice as he called your name. Worried, confused, maybe even desperate. In the minute he left, his entire world had come crashing down in front him.

“What on earth did you say to her?!” He yelled at his parents. But before they could answer, he was sprinting out the door after you.

“Y/n!” He called out, running towards you. “Wait! Please!”

He reached out to grab your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. When you turned to face him, the tears running down your face were bullets to his heart.

“They’re small minded people,” he began, grabbing your hands, holding them tightly. “Why do you care what they think-”

“It’s not just them,” you interrupted. “It’s everyone.”

“Not me,” his expression soften when he realised you were starting to sob harder. His thumbs running over to back your hands assuringly.

“It may not be written in stone,” he said, referring to the thread tied around his own pinky. “But i know you’re meant to be mine.”

“Beomgyu...” you trailed off. You hated how fate made you question your future with him. You hated how you always put beomgyu in that position. But you couldn’t help it. “No one ever looked at you the way your parents looked at me. But they’re right, you and i, this isn’t meant to happen. Eventually, you would find your true soulmate. Isn’t it better we end it now, before it’s too late and one of us ends up getting hurt?”

He stood there, staring into your eyes. His grip on your hands never faulted, afraid that if let you go, he’ll never see you again. A millions thoughts ran through his head, but all of them wasn’t the right thing to say. All, expect one.

“I- i love you,” he chocked out.

“Beomgyu...“

“No, don’t. I can see it in your eyes that you love me too. Isn’t that enough? I promised to be by your side. What matters the most is what we think. And we love each other, thats more than what others can ever say about us. Just because this stupid string says we’re not supposed to be together, doesn’t mean we can’t still write out own ending. Don’t leave me, please.”

“But beomgyu, they’re your parents.”

“I dont give a shit. If they can’t accept me and whatever and whoever i love then... then that’s their problem.”

You couldn’t speak, chocking on your sobs as you looked into his eyes. You pulled him in for a hug, and that was all the response he needed before hugging you back.

Bringing himself back to the present, he smiled, admiring the sight in front of him as you stared up at the clouds. Since that day, the road with you was no where near a smooth ride. But from the moment he saw you, he knew that you may not be fated to be with him, but he had to love you with everything he had, for as long as he can.

The journey to be with you may have been long and difficult, but he was glad it was so tough. Cause if he hadn’t gone through hell to get there, he might not have learnt the lessons he did. And he would carry those lessons with him. He loved you through all the hard times, every stupid fight, every pang of jealousy or boredom or uncertainty that came your way. And he would continue to do that, until the very end. Admittedly, beomgyu didn’t know what the futures holds for either of you. But he knew that it included you.

.

.

.

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Hope you liked this! Not completely happy with this but thought it was still worth posting. I tried ㅠㅠ

Masterlist

[takerfoxx]

Blood Island, Chapter 5

A gift given freely is not free. Only pay the price you know in advance.

Nuriel left the basket where it lay on the steps. Morning had brought both hunger and thirst in great quantities, but she was not so desperate as to trust the red-eyed monster’s benevolence.

She wasn’t exactly sure what she was expecting from the deck of the ship, but she was surprised by how little she found. At a cursory glance one might be forgiven for not realizing that a war had taken place at all. Here and there she found a dark feather stuck in the timbers or a dark stain of blood, but there were no mangled corpses, no shattered bones or shredded organs. Nuriel made her way to the rail and peeked over. Even the sand looked like it had been cleaned and swept.

Interesting.

Holding her aching stomach with one hand, Nuriel then turned her attention to the place that had started the whole mess. The captain’s quarters were no longer shut tight like she had left them. Rather, one door was lying ajar.

Nuriel considered leaving it like that. The last time she had poked around that place had proven to be a very bad idea. For all she knew a straggler of that flesh-hungry flock had taken up shelter in there.

But then, just leaving it there could be just as dangerous. Besides, given what a thorough job those snarling creatures had done chasing them off, she truly doubted any were left.

With a sigh, she limped her way over.

The musky scent of the bird’s nest hit her before she even reached the door. Nuriel wrinkled her nose and frowned. Yes, the stench was still there, but not nearly as bad as it had been the other day. In fact, it smelled much weaker. Huh.

Nuriel edged the loose door open with her foot and peeked inside. A moment later she opened it all the way.

The nest was gone. She hadn’t really gotten much of a good look at it the day before due to having all of her attention taken up by a face full of awful, but she did remember a disgusting mess of twigs, bones, and broken furniture, all of it streaked with droppings.

But now it was all gone. The mess had been cleared out, the destroyed furniture removed, and even the droppings had been cleared away, leaving a wide open space. It wasn’t exactly homey, but it wasn’t a nightmare either.

So, during what fitful moments of sleep she had managed to capture, her supposed “friend” had not only snuck a breakfast into the hold for her to find, but also thoroughly cleaned the place up, removing all trace that the birds had ever been there at all.

That scared her even more than the thought of sharing the island with a host of monsters.

All of the other monsters she had encountered were just monsters of the normal kind. They were dangerous and pitiless and hungry and spiteful, but in the end they were just animals, and if she managed to learn their habits then she could probably coexist quite peacefully with them, assuming that she didn’t upset anything like those birds again. But the red-eyed monster was completely different. It was intelligent. It had thoughts and feelings like a person. It had somehow wiped out an entire flock of flesh-eaters in a matter of minutes and cleaned up the evidence. It was leaving her notes. It was leaving her gifts. There was someone else on the island, and they knew that she was there. They had fixated on her.

There was nothing in the world more dangerous than the attention of another person.

Indifference was safe. To be ignored was to be given a chance. But to have a being of power pay attention to her was the worst possible scenario, especially when it was someone that she didn’t know anything about. Were they even a person at all? It was clear that they were probably something more than human.

Nuriel had never had much to do with the unseen world beyond her own. Oh, she was certain that it existed in one form or another, but so long as it was content to ignore her then she was going to extend the same courtesy. And if God was how the priests and reverends described him, then she was quite certain that he was more occupied with the comings and goings of kings, popes, and heroes to pay much attention to a lonesome girl scraping a living at the bottom of the barrel.

But that strategy was predicated on mutual disinterest. If there were gods, devils, ghosts, angels, fairies, and the rest of their otherworldly kin out there, then she was going to respect their privacy and stay out of their way.

But now she had attracted the attention of this one.

This wasn’t good.

…

Nuriel threw the whole basket of fruit over the side of the ship.

It was a rash decision, but she wasn’t going to accept the gift of some unknown devil. After all, wasn’t that what all the stories warned of, about not taking gifts of food from fairies, spirits, and other principalities? Just taking a single bite could cost Nuriel her soul!

However, as she stood panting at the port staring down at where all the fruit lay in the sand below, Nuriel came to realize two unfortunate drawbacks from her hastiness.

First, the monster would likely return, and it would see how its gift had been rejected.

Second, she was still famished. She had eaten nothing other than a few coconuts and those fruits taken from the monkeys, and in that time she had done a great deal of walking, running, and being terrified for her life. If she didn’t get something to eat soon, then it wouldn’t matter if she angered the red-eyed monster or not.

Nuriel closed her eyes and mentally counted down from ten. Then she did it again. She couldn’t afford to panic. Now was her most dangerous hour, and what she did next could save or damn her. She needed a plan.

Nuriel looked over to the captain’s quarters again. She hadn’t taken more than a cursory glance before, just enough to confirm that it had been cleaned out. Maybe something had been left behind, something she could use.

Keeping the doors wide open, Nuriel went back inside. The furniture was all gone, though given the sort of condition it had been in, that was probably for the best. The bunk was still set in the wall, sans mattress. And the windows were all smashed in, no doubt by the birds themselves to allow for access, which pretty much eliminated the room as a viable place for her to live unless she managed to find a way to board them up.

Regardless, there didn’t seem to be anything of value left. Seeing how she had yet to see any corpses, the surviving members of the crew had probably already taken everything that would be of use and abandoned the ship, probably only to meet some other fate deeper inland.

Or maybe they were still out there. Maybe she wasn’t alone on the island after all.

Nuriel wasn’t sure how she felt about that. After all, having actual grown men about would increase her chances of survival, sure, but that was presuming that they took her in no questions asked. Plus, a bunch of sailors marooned on a deadly island would no doubt be quick to find use for a young girl that had suddenly shown up in their midst, use that wasn’t all that preferable to what the monsters would do to her.

As the thought sent shivers down her spine, Nuriel found herself hoping that they were dead.

Of course, it was still possible that this was the red-eyed monster’s ship. Maybe after it had been run aground, it had found no further use for the crew and ate them. Now that was a cheery thought.

Sighing, Nuriel turned toward the door.

Then she paused. There was something there, something she had missed during her cursory scan.

It was a small wayfarer’s chest, only a foot in length and a third of that in height. It was old, its edges cracked and faded and metal bolts black with corrosion. But it was on one piece.

Nuriel swallowed. Another “gift,” one that required her to manually open it to see what was inside. Anything could pop out at her, like a serpent or some kind of explosive. She carefully cracked the lid open and looked inside.

Then the breath caught in her throat.

It was a sailor’s chest, filled with any number of useful tools. There was a small bronze spyglass, a compass, a large hunting knife, a small mallet, several spools of flax thread, a ticking pocket watch, and a small glass flask filled with something orange.

This was a far greater gift than the fruit had been. In here was just about everything she needed to survive.

But should she take it? She wasn’t sure. The fruit was one thing. Everyone agreed that food offered by otherworldly beings was not to be touched. This, however, was clearly of all human make, and had probably been left in the ship by the crew. More than likely her red-eyed friend had simply left it for her to find when it had cleared out the captain’s quarters. That ought to be all right, wouldn’t it?

Nuriel bit her lip. Her hands were shaking. Yes. Yes, this at least she should make use of. She would be foolish not to. After all, they were merely tools. And her soul would do her no good if she were dead.

That decided, Nuriel pillaged the chest.

…

The lagoon was unoccupied, save for the local herons wading around in the shallows. They stared at Nuriel as she stumbled over but didn’t retreat. That was fine. So long as they didn’t follow their nastier cousins’ example and start stabbing at her with those big, long beaks of theirs, then they were going to get along just fine.

As Nuriel stepped into the water, she noticed several quick movements beneath the surface. Fish. There was fish in the lagoon. That was what drew the herons. Now, there was a useful bit of information. Man did not live on fruit alone, or however the phrase went.

But that was something to be left for later. Nuriel headed for the falls, cupped her hands, thrust them beneath the curtain, and drank.

She was so thirsty that she expected to just drink and drink until her stomach burst at the seams, but the moment her throat was wetted, nausea twisted up from within her, doubling her over as she heaved.

There was little in her stomach to hurl back out, but by God it was going to try anyway, so Nuriel could do little more than remain bent over, her head partially in the waterfall’s spray, heaving nothing into the lagoon. She kept going and going until something spicy and disgusting came up. She spat it out and finally managed to straighten up.

The waterfall was splashing over her shoulder, splattering her face and soaking her hair. That was good. It hid the mess her face was. She sniffled, stepped out from the falls, and wiped away her blotchy eyes and stuffy nose.

Then she noticed the herons standing around, staring at her. Nuriel scowled at them. The hell were they looking at?

At least the sick feeling had left her. Sighing, Nuriel held her hands out and tried again.

Once her thirst had been quenched, she waded out from the lagoon and sat down on a rock in the shade of the willow trees.

Well, she had fresh water at least, and she had cleaned up a little. But she still needed food, oh she needed food. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, an ever-growing hole that demanded to be filled.

She…she could still go back and gather the fruits she had thrown out. They probably were safe, and it would do her no good to let them go to waste just to make a point.

No! That was how they got you! She had to remain strong! Besides, the island was probably full of food. She just needed to go find it.

As Nuriel sat there musing, she heard something chirp.

It sounded like a bird…and yet it didn’t. There was a bit of a growl to it, like the squeak of a rat. And it was near.

Nuriel leapt to her feet, only to instantly regret it when the cuts in her stomach flared up. Wincing, she pushed the pain away and looked.

There was a…thing nearby. It was about the size of a turkey but it looked more like a lizard, standing on two long, skinny legs in the sand, with a stiff tail that stuck of its back and two tiny arms clutched tight to its chest. Its neck was long and curving, and its head small and elongated, with tiny sharp teeth protruding from its grey snout. That being said, its body wasn’t scaly like most of the monsters she had seen, but was covered with a thin coat of fuzzy down of grey striped with black, with a red crest around the head.

The chirper seemed to be part lizard and part bird, combining aspects of both the lizardlike animals she had seen and the vicious birds that had attacked her. And Nuriel, who now deeply mistrusted anything with feathers, didn’t care for it at all.

The chirper gazed up at her, its large, yellow eyes wide and curious. It chirped again and hopped forward, its tiny claws kicking up sand.

Nuriel picked up a rock and threw it.

The chirper immediately scampered away, but stopped once it was out of throwing range. It turned to stare at her again.

What’s it thinking? Nuriel wondered. Was it simply curious about this strange, fleshy new animal? Or was it wondering if she was good to eat?

Nuriel didn’t feel like waiting to find out.

She charged, yelling and waving her hands about like a madwoman.

This finally seemed to convince the bird/lizard that the odd pink stranger wasn’t worth investigating, and it ran off.

Nuriel warily eyed it as it fled across the beach. She wouldn’t feel comfortable until it had left completely, and even then she didn’t trust it to not start shadowing her steps, waiting for the opportunity to dart it and see how she tasted.

Then, to her horror, she heard another chirp, one that hadn’t come from the chirper. This was followed by another, and then another, and then another.

A whole flock of the things came running across the beach to greet their comrade. Nuriel hastily bolted behind a large tree, silently praying that the one she had driven off wouldn’t inform the others that something soft and potentially tasty was mucking about.

Trembling, she peeked out. There had to be at least twenty of the little squeaking things. Maybe even thirty. Forty? It was hard to tell, more kept running out of the shadows. They were all gathered in a loose circle, chittering and squeaking at one another, some of them bouncing up and down while others frantically bobbed their heads. They were clearly communicating…something.

And that something was probably news of an easy meal, a strange, hairless monkey with soft pink skin.

Nuriel slid St. George from his sheath.

However, the chirpers didn’t look toward her. Rather, they were moving away from Nuriel’s hiding spot, back toward the Carmilla’s Fancy. Well, good! Let them! If they wanted the boat, they were more than welcome to it! Let them deal with the red-eyed monster!

Run. Now. While they’re distracted.

It would be the smart thing. Nothing was ever gained by following potential danger, only from moving away from it. She had gotten a lucky break. She would be a fool to waste it.

Forget it, girl, Father’s husky voice growled. Let it be.

Nodding, Nuriel stood up and started to move away from the boat. She could find some other means of shelter.

Then she stopped. She stopped and looked back over her shoulder, to where the chirpers were excitedly rushing after…something.

Something that she kind of wanted to know about.

Damn your curiosity, girl! It’ll get you killed!

True, true. But still…

Don’t do it, Nuriel. Just go.

Nuriel did not go. In fact she found herself turning back around. From she started moving the opposite direction that she ought to be going, back towards the boat, back to see what the chirpers were up to.

Suit yourself, girl. But don’t come crying to me when you show up here in Hell.

Nuriel followed the tiny, birdlike tracks in the sand and the sound of the chirps. It didn’t take long to catch up to the flock. The chirpers had all gathered beneath the Carmilla’s Fancy and were fast at work.

However, as she drew near Nuriel came to realize that they had no interest in the ship itself. Rather, the reason for their excitement was what lay below, in the sand.

The basket of fruit Nuriel had hurled over the side was still there, and the chirpers were busy dislodging all the fruit from the depressions they had made in the sand. Once they had gotten all the pieces loose, they pushed against them with their long hands, rolling them across the beach. Each piece of fruit had anywhere from three to six chirpers working together to move them along.

Well now. That was…strange.

Nuriel started to relax a little. Maybe the chirpers were fruit eaters? If so, then she had nothing to worry about.

Maybe.

Still, why were they pushing the fruit along instead of cutting them open and eating them where they found them? Maybe they had a nest nearby, with little baby chirpers to feed?

Now even more curious, Nuriel continued to follow the flock, maintaining a healthy distance while keeping them in sight. They led on a winding path of sand, one that wound between several hills that looked to be a high tide away from becoming islands, until they were moving around the cliffs.

As they rounded a corner, Nuriel came into another bit of good luck. The cliffs opened into a large grassy alcove, one that contained several gnarled trees that bore the same lumpy red fruit that the red-eyed monster had included in her fruit basket.

Nuriel almost wept with joy. A reliable food source, one that wasn’t guarded by territorial monkeys! All right, maybe she wasn’t doomed after all.

Unfortunately, there were other creatures about. She saw several other chirpers emerge from the grass, all of them pushing more of the red fruits along.

Hmmm, that could be a problem. If they fed on fruit, then they might object to her taking a few pieces for herself. Still, seeing how they weren’t sticking around to feast, it could be that they just visited the grove to grab a few choice pieces and bring them back to their nest. Maybe she could snatch a few bits when they were done.

The new fruit-pushing chirpers joined the ones she had been following, and they continue on, a bizarre procession of bird/lizard creatures, just rolling large pieces of fruit across a beach. If her life wasn’t still in mortal danger Nuriel might have found the sight hilarious.

The fruit grove was a lucky find, but Nuriel continued to shadow the flock. Maybe if she found out where the nest was, she could make sure to avoid it.

The flock rounded another corner of the cliff, and suddenly Nuriel found herself looking at a slope, one that led all the way back to the top.

And the chirpers continued on, now pushing the fruit up the slope.

Well. Damn. The cliff wasn’t nearly as high around here, and the slope wasn’t exactly all that steep, but the chirpers were still very small, and some of the fruits were larger than they were. Still they endeavored on, taking it slow and working together to get all the pieces up the slope. It was the damnedest thing Nuriel had ever seen, and there were now a lot of competition for that title.

As the chirpers finally neared the top, Nuriel caught sight of a tree with many low-hanging branches at the top of the cliffs, near the edge that overlooked the sea. She hurried over to the rough wall on the side of the slope and climbed up.

Here, the top of the cliff was covered with what looked like a divided field, one made up of two kinds of grass. One was shorter and greener, while the other was tall, dry, and yellow. The shorter green grass took up about two thirds of the field, while the tall yellow grass held the rest, pressing up against the jungle about half a mile off.

Nuriel hurried over to the tree and climbed up about a third of the length. Pulling out her new spyglass, she took a gander at her surroundings.

There was a herd of animals in the green part of the field, great, humped beasts with greenish-yellow skin and long faces with humped noses. They were big, easily over three times the size of a fully grown horse. Yet they didn’t seem to be aggressive. They were lowing about, lazily grazing. A pair of calves bounded around the adults, hoarsely crying out and chasing each other around. Each one was large enough to Nuriel to ride on.

As for the chirpers, they were almost swallowed up even by the shorter grass, though Nuriel could still track their movements by where the fruit rustled as they were pushed forward. Nuriel watched as the chirpers continued to move their bounty forward, heading toward the tall grass.

And then, right at the edge where the two grasses met, they just…stopped.

The fruit was all pushed together into a pile, one that rose up over the top of the grass. It looked almost like an offering.

The chirpers swarmed over the fruit, and for a moment Nuriel thought that they were finally going to feast. But no, none of them actually bit into the fruit. Instead they scratched at them with the tiny claws on their hands and feet, making them bleed. Red, yellow, green, and clear juice dribbled down the sides of the pile.

And then the chirpers simply vanished, darting away from the pile of wounded fruit to disappear into the grass.

Nuriel still had no idea what was going on, but now she was fascinated. Something was definitely up, and she had to know what it was.

Keeping absolutely still, Nuriel remained sitting in the crux of the tree’s branches, keeping an eye on the pile of fruit. It was then that she noticed that the herd of grazing animals were keeping a healthy distance between themselves and the tall yellow grass.

Except two.

The two calves were heading over to the pile of fruit, no doubt following the smell of the juice. The adults hadn’t noticed that their young had wandered off, and continued their contented grazing.

Nuriel felt a chill sweep down her spine. She was starting to put things together in her head. The pile of fruit wasn’t intended to feed the chirpers’ young, nor was it an offering.

It was bait.

The calves had reached the pile. They nudged the fruit with their snouts, their fat, red tongues coming out to lick the juice. One of them took an investigative bite. Finding it good, they began to eat.

Nuriel climbed a little higher to get a better look. Something was happening. She couldn’t see anything in the tall yellow grass, but she was certain that there was something in it.

Then she saw it. Movement. The tall yellow grass was swaying back and forth. Could it be the wind? No. There was only a gentle breeze, and it was blowing in from the coast, and the tall yellow grass wasn’t bending with it.

Heedless of their peril, the two calves continued to feast.

Suddenly one of the adult beasts lowed loudly in alarm. One of the calves raised its head to blink stupidly at its herd.

Another one of the beasts bellowed, and three of them broke off from the rest of the herd, rushing over to the calves, who continued to just stare at them. But Nuriel wasn’t focused on them. She was watching the tall yellow grass.

Despite this, when the attack came, it came so suddenly that Nuriel almost dropped out of the tree in surprise.

A high-pitched shriek filled the air. The calves leapt in response, but it was too late. Something hit them, something that was the same dry yellow as the tall grass.

Nuriel watched in morbid fascination as the predators swarmed over the two poor calves. It was hard to figure out how many of them there were, or what they even looked like, but they weren’t chirpers, that much was for certain. They darted in and out, striking again and again, until the calves’ greenish-yellow skin became streaked with red, their hides bleeding as readily as the fruit had.

The charging adults came to a stop. The calves screamed for help, but their parents didn’t answer. They could already tell that it was too late.

One of the calves tried to push itself out of the attack only to succumb to its wounds. With one final scream it collapsed. As it did, one of the predators climbed onto its back, and Nuriel was finally able to get a good look.

It was yet another bird monster, though this one had more in common with the chirpers than it did with the actual birds that had attacked her the previous night: same bullet-shaped body, same stiff tail, same S-curved neck, same nimble claws instead of wings, and same long head ending in a toothy alligator snout rather than a beak. However, it was much, much bigger, standing nearly the same height as a fully grown man, and longer than two horses from snout to the tip of its tail. And proportion-wise, it was much thicker than the chirpers: more heavily muscled legs, longer claws, bigger neck, and bigger head. Its body was covered in a short coat of pale yellow feathers with black stripes, and though she couldn’t really make out its eyes even with the spyglass, they seemed to have a distinctly golden hue.

But there was something else special about it, something she could just barely make out. Nuriel focused the spyglass on the creature’s feet, which were digging into the fallen calf’s back. They also bent forward like a chicken’s, though obvious were much more densely muscled. But while the tips of the toes ended in sharp, dragonlike claws as expected, each foot had a special claw on the middle toe, one that was much larger than the others, curving up like a scythe.

As Nuriel watched, the creature leaned forward to grip with its hands, and it began scraping its feet across the calf’s back, its scythe-claws slicing through the hide like a butcher’s knife.

Nuriel swallowed. Butchers. Yes, that was a good name for it.

Both of the calves had mercifully expired, and the butchers set to work, methodically slicing off chunks of meat and gulping them down. Now that the killing had ended and the feeding began, Nuriel was able to get a better count of the things. There seemed to be around six…no, eight. There was eight. Five of them were about the same size as the one she had seen perched on the calf’s back, but three others were much smaller, probably young juveniles.

Despite the savagery of the kill, there did seem to be an odd orderliness about how they fed. The adults went first, slicing off great bloody chunks and gulping them down. But before the carcasses were even done, they moved back, allowing the juveniles to move in. They weren’t as precise as the adults with their slicing, but they made up for it with enthusiasm. Somehow two of them ended up with their jaws clamped down on either side of the same strip of meat, and rather than let go, they began to fight over it, tugging back fiercely while trying to jerk it free. Irritated, one of the adults walked over and swatted one of the fighting juveniles, making it release its end.

Further down the field, the adult grass-eaters looked on as their young were devoured. Then they slowly turned to walk back to the herd, writing the two calves off for their foolishness.

The butchers fed well but fed quickly, filling their bellies. When it seemed as if they had all eaten their fill, three of the adults moved forward. It was then that Nuriel noted that these three were different from the others, in that each of their snouts had a bright red dot on the end, and the pattern of black stripes was more wavy. They each cut off several slices of meat and lifted them with their mouths, but they didn’t eat them. Their prizes now carefully held, the whole pack left, disappearing quickly into the tall yellow grass, leaving the bloody carcasses behind.

When they were gone, the chirpers reappeared.

They seemed to come out of nowhere, swarming over the bloody bones, feasting on what bits of flesh that the butchers had left behind. As they did, Nuriel came to understand the full significance of what she had just seen.

Even with their numbers, the chirpers were obviously too small and weak to take down one of the larger animals. But somewhere and somehow, they had learned to get around that, to use the fruit to lure dumber animals away from the herd and nearer to the butchers’ hunting grounds, and in return the butchers would leave them the scraps. How such a relationship had formed, and how the chirpers had even learned to do such a thing, Nuriel couldn’t begin to guess, but she applauded the tiny creatures for their ingenuity.

As for herself, Nuriel’s own curiosity had taught her two very important things. First, the location of a fruit grove, one where she could harvest food on her own.

The second was even more important: stay well away from long grass.

At any rate, Nuriel had seen enough, and with the chirpers busy with their own feast, the grove was unattended. She quietly slipped down from the branches of the tree and headed back down the slope. As she ran, an idea was starting to form in her head, an idea given to her by the chirpers. They were tiny, defenseless creatures in a world of monsters several times their height, and yet they had learned to use what they had available to gain an advantage with no risk to themselves.

Maybe she could do the same.

…

The sun was finally setting. Nuriel had survived another day.

And not only had she survived, she now had a mission. She was going to catch her “friend” in the act.

She was positioned on top of a small, sheer-sided hill that sat upon one of the many tiny islands that dotted the main island’s outskirts. The top of the hill was covered with thick grass, and she was lying on her side, watching the Carmilla’s Fancy through her new spyglass.

It wasn’t exactly comfortable. Her belly was still healing, and lying flat upon it hurt too much, hence why she was on her side instead, which still ached whenever she shifted her weight. Thankfully the night was warm and the sky clear. If it were to start raining again then she might as well just throw herself into the possession of the red-eyed monster.

The Carmilla’s Fancy sat empty and abandoned. Nuriel had no idea how long it would take for the red-eyed monster to return, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it would be back. She just had to remain alert and be ready when it arrived.

Nuriel checked the clifftops. She caught sight of a couple of those dome-headed assholes knocking their heads together like territorial mountain goats, but not much else. Presumably most of the monsters lived further in.

The night insects had already started to sing. Good. If they stopped, it was a sure indicator that her visitor had arrived.

Then, somewhere far off but not far off enough for her comfort, the Dragon roared.

Nuriel winced. Of all of the island’s mysteries, that was one that she hoped to never uncover. Let it reign over its realm however it saw fit. She was content to stay on the outskirts, well away from its jaws.

It was getting darker, but the sun had not fully set. Nuriel shifted her weight, carefully scratched her stomach in between the cuts, and settled herself down.

Time passed. The sun dipped lower.

Nuriel yawned. Damn it. Her sleep the previous night had been anything but complete, and now that she was lying still on soft grass, it was really catching up to her.

She shook her head. No, she couldn’t afford to doze off. She needed to stay awake and aware.

But the night was so warm, and the grass so soft…

Blinking, she reached up and gave her ravaged ear a squeeze.

The sharp pain surged through her, chasing away any thought of sleep. She winced, but hey, it had done the trick.

Then the insects stopped singing.

Nuriel held her breath. She looked this way and that, and then hurriedly snapped her spyglass back into focus.

The deck of the Carmilla’s Fancy was still empty.

Nuriel licked her dry lips. Come on, where was it? It was near. She could practically feel it. Every hair on her body was on edge, her skin prickled with goosebumps despite the warmth of the night.

She checked the cliffs in hopes of seeing it climb down. No, nothing. The only thing moving were the leaves of whatever plants were tough enough to take root in the crevices along the stone wall.

The beaches were also empty. There was…wait! Something was moving, something big was striding across the sands near the lagoon and…no, wait, damn it. It was just a heron.

Nuriel’s face twisted up with frustration. Where the hell was it? It had to be close. It was the right place, the right time of night, the right everything! Wasn’t it at least curious to see if she had left a note in return?

Then, as she swept her gaze over the brig’s deck for what felt like the hundredth time, she heard a feminine sigh of exasperation, coming from directly behind her.

Nuriel gasped and spun around. This proved to be a poor decision, as the sudden movement sent lances of pain across her stomach, causing her to double over. She pushed it from her mind and forced herself to look.

There was nothing there.

The sound of Nuriel’s heartbeat pounded away loudly in her ears. She had heard it, hadn’t she? She was sure of it! It had been right behind her?

But now there was nothing there at all.

As Nuriel surveyed the beach, she then heard what sounded very much like a young girl’s giggle, coming from somewhere close by.

Nuriel came very close to pissing her own trousers.

Where was it? It was near, It had to be! It was near, and…

…it knew where she was.

Nuriel suddenly felt very exposed. Not that the Santa Camarilla would have provided much in the way of shelter should the red-eyed monster decide to come for her, but it had to be better than where she was!

Nuriel slowly sat up straight and listened. The insects still weren’t singing, nor were there any animals calling out. It was still there.

Somewhere.

Lifting her spyglass back to her eye, she frantically searched the shadows, looking for any glint of red.

Then her spyglass slipped through her fingers as she clapped both hands over her mouth to keep from crying out.

There was someone standing on the deck of the ship.

It was again too dark for her to make out any features, but there was undoubtedly a woman there, over by the remains of the mast. Nuriel snatched up her spyglass, but her fingers were shaking so badly that it fumbled in her grasp and fell back into the grass. Mentally cursing, she grabbed it with both hands and brought it up to her eye.

The deck was empty again. There was no one there.

Nuriel let out a moan of despair. No, no, no, no! It had been right there! She had been looking right at it! Where did it go?

It knew you were there. You only saw it because it let you.

As Nuriel frantically searched every square foot of her surroundings, she felt her gut twist and sour. Despite all of her careful preparations, she had been found out, and easily at that.

She ought to run. She ought to run…where? She was exposed, out in the open, and if it wanted to run her down it could do so effortlessly. Hell, it probably had been standing right behind her! That was that sigh and laugh were all about. It had found her quite easily and thought that her attempts to expose it were amusing! And it somehow then crossed the distance between the hill and the ship in mere seconds just so she could see it!

Even if she did run, where would she go? If she went too far, she risked running into the various night predators that roamed the island. The birds could find her again. Maybe even ghosts. After everything that had happened, she would not be surprised to find that the island truly was haunted! Hell, the red-eyed monster probably was some kind of dead, maybe the soul of one of the long-dead natives, or perhaps someone from the Santa Camarilla. That would explain why it was hanging around the ship!

Tears welled up in her eyes. Sniffing, she wiped them away with the back of her wrist. She hated feeling trapped. Being all alone on an island of monsters was one thing, but being trapped was so much worse. She would have rather that she had drowned.

You’re alive, reprimanded the memory of Papa’s voice.

Yes, but-

So stop your whimpering. You’re in trouble, but you’re alive. Every problem has a solution. Figure this one out.

Nodding, she let out a long, shaky breath. Papa was right. Nothing good would come from sitting around crying. Even if she couldn’t flee, she still had to act. She had to do something!

Unfortunately, the only real something was to return to the ship.

But she couldn’t! The red-eyed monster might still be there! It could be waiting for her!

Then, as Nuriel sat torn between possibly walking right into the devil’s lair and complete inaction, the night came back to life.

The insects began to sing again, filling the silence with their song. One of the domeheads showed up on the top of the cliff and started chuffing and grunting as it clawed at the ground for some reason. Night birds called to each other from across the jungle.

Nuriel slowly breathed out. That was as good an indication as any that the red-eyed monster was gone. Not a perfect one, true, but it was as good as she was going to get.

One hand holding onto her spyglass and the other clutching Saint George, Nuriel stood up.

…

If sitting alone on the top of that grassy hill had left Nuriel feeling exposed, then climbing back onto the deck of the Carmilla’s Fancy left her feeling outright naked. Already she had been attacked by that fucking bird, besieged by its friends, and had been visited by ghostly apparition that could apparently cross great distances within the blink of an eye and silence the night with its mere presence.

She pulled herself up from the branch onto the ship, only to wince in regret when it sent a flash of pain across the cuts in her stomach. She shook her head to clear it and tried again, this time more carefully.

The deck just seemed so much unsettling at night. The sky was clear, so there was plenty of moonlight shining down, but that just made the shadows from the masts reach longer. It reminded her of monoliths in a cemetery, monuments to the dead.

Nuriel glanced around. Well, nothing was jumping out at her, which was a welcome change. Still, she kept her steps light as she crossed the deck to inspect the place.

She didn’t have to look long.

Another basket of fruit was waiting for her; the same basket in fact, recovered from where she had thrown it. And from the look of things it had been filled with the same kind of fruit as before, and in the same quantities.

What was more, there was a note lying on top of it.

Nuriel was shaking as she picked it up and held it to the moonlight.

Nice try! it read in the same elegant hand as before. Next to it was a drawing of a girl’s face, one with long dark hair. One eye was winking and her tongue was playfully sticking out of one side of her mouth.

Below it in one corner of the paper was a rough sketch of a boat sitting in a bunch of tree limbs. Across from it in the other corner was a hump, on which a figure was lying on its side, pointing a spyglass at the boat.

The sketches were rough and obviously done quickly, but the fact remained that they had been done, while she had been watching the ship and entirely without her knowledge! The red-eyed monster had taken note of her spying, written out an amusing response complete with illustrations, retrieved the basket where it lay, filled it with fruit, and put both the basket and the note in place, all with her only catching the quickest of glances of it, and that had probably been intentional!

She had no chance of winning against such a foe. This wasn’t like the monkeys or the monsters that inhabited the island, which when all was said and done they were still only animals. This was a demon. Monsters she could handle, but what could one do against a demon?

Sweet Christ, what was she going to do?

[lunartonehana]

Pokemon Rejuvenation V13 Live Reaction Thread 9/10

Spoilers for V13 under cut

okie my phone was charging lol so imma summarize what happened so far

rhodea is the puppet person

makes sense tbh good for her

geara(derogatory)

uh

that’s pretty much it besides from the fact their was a bug and i beat the red haired bitch

also no more large screen :(

i don’t like full screen so ig my screen is a lot smaller than it normal is

:(

i’ll try full screening for a bit

feels off tho

wonder if there r any new pokemon in the area

idk

The puppet master is pissed

Reina is here now ig

hmm

Rhodea based

(not really but she’s a black queen gotta rep her)

Yo fuck the blakeory’s

Amber is a good girl

HAZUKI

HAZUKI U BITCH

WHAT

I have come to the conclusion that the wierd Pokemon I have been seeing are probably regional variants

cool

where can i get them(besides the feebas)

damn

hazuki kinda hard ngl

wait

hazuki is very hard fuck

i don’t really have a strat

hmm

ok it’s the morning now

dw i went to bed

Holy shit I finally beat her

Probably the hardest fight in v13 so far imo…unless saki is a problem

(beat her with a-muk,primarina,lucario,magnezone,volcarona,and mega swampert)

Fuck Hazuki

AYO VAL,ADAM, AND DELPHA R HERE

wtf

Saki recognizes her privilege

good for her

Wtf

Why is Nymiera here

Oh wait nvm

Ooh damn

Did she

Did she kill herself????

oof I didn’t say the right thing to Saki

Hey the whole gang is here

Thank you SEC

FUCK

I’m stuck with the team I have

This isn’t good

Dear god what is that thing

Um

Were 2 of Melia’s ring things always broken

Hey it’s us

No clue what an intercept z is

Oh we can change fate with it

Cool

YEA WE’RE FIGHTING WITH AELITA

WHY IS THE PUPPET MASTER GANGING UP ON ME

Beat him in one try :)

Huh

Ruh oh Huey doesn’t trust us

Literally everyone believed in me but Huey

What did the puppet do to him

I like this

WHAT

WE CHANGED FORMS

VARIYA GET YOUR ASS OUTTA HERE

Not at Volcarona oneshotting the puppet master

Huey u bitch

Oh

Eyo Rune

Oh so that was Rune in the ending of the v13 teaser

Neat

Oh shit Rune was the one who saved Saki in Terajuma

Damn Flora got Rune covered up

Oh wait this was the secret Flora knew

Fuck the blakeory’s

Oh Saki was friends with Xara and Risa

Damn

Hey it’s the whole story and characters

Hmm Thomas is a good guy

:(

SEC NOOOOOOO

Hey it’s Flora

Oh Saki is heading to Sinnoh

Melia told them oof

Finally talking about the elephant in the room that is the kugerean chapter

Oh shit Amanda’s real form

Gym time

I have no idea on what field we’re going to fight on

Saki’s gym is so wacky

The ost reminds me of something that would play in pkmn mystery dungeon

idk if it is

I went to sheriden to heal because idk where the healing star is in axis lol

it looks very good now

GEARA U BITCH NOT NOW

🧍🏾‍♀️

i only have one mon alive rn

Gonna stop here, kinda got spoiled a bit of the length of the main story after beating Saki so i’ll try and finish the main story today. i might write a review or smth idk we’ll see

[phoenix-downer]

Fate’s Thread

For SoKai Week Day 6 - Connection AND Fate. 

~2150 words. Love Epiphany, Crushes, Pining, Mutual Pining, Soulmates, Red String of Fate.

“A red string of fate connects everyone to their soulmate.” 

The words were from an old legend from Radiant Garden. Kairi didn’t really pay them any mind as a child because she didn’t really think about such things back then, and the legend of the paopu fruit rapidly replaced the legend of the red string of fate in her young mind after she arrived on Destiny Islands. Something about the legend of the paopu fruit appealed to her more; perhaps the element of personal choice. Her grandmother had once said to her, “Soulmates are made, not born,” and the legend of the paopu fruit was much more in line with that. 

Still, as the years passed and she grew older, there were some nights when she wondered, was there someone she was meant to be with? Was fate working behind the scenes and controlling her destiny?

The morning after her fourteenth birthday party, she lay in her bed, hugging her pillow to her chest and trying to get the strange thoughts she’d been having about Sora lately out of her mind. Why had she felt so weird around him lately? Especially last night. She could hardly talk to him without the words getting caught in her throat and her face getting hot. 

It wasn’t like he had changed; he was the same dork as ever, the same lazy bum. Kairi was taller than him by about an inch now, because he was “a late bloomer,” as her mother put it. The other girls on the island were fawning over various boys now, but for whatever reason, it wasn’t those guys who made her feel all flustered when they walked in the room.

No, it was Sora. And if he hadn’t really changed… then it meant she had. 

That was the first time she remembered feeling a slight tugging on her pinkie, but then it was gone. 

The next time she felt a similar tugging was when she was playing toss on the Play Island with everyone. They were trying to keep the ball off the sand for as long as possible so they could beat their old record. 

“Here, catch!” Sora called, a big grin on his face as he looked at her. Something about the way he smiled made her brain shut off for a few seconds, and by then it was too late. The ball had fallen to the sand, and everyone was groaning loudly.

“Kairi, really?!” Wakka said as Tidus shook his head. “We were only two away from our old record!” 

She sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry, guys. I guess I got a little distracted.”

She looked at Sora again, and he said, “Hey, no big deal! We can just try again.”

It was then that she felt the tugging once more. “Huh? she said softly as she cupped her pinkie in her other hand.  

Then it was over. Weird. 

She picked up the ball again. “Alright everyone, are you ready?” 

“Ready!”

After that, the tugging got more and more frequent. It was never painful or anything, but she did notice it. During school, after school, on the Play Island, sometimes even at home… any time Sora was around, it usually happened at least once. 

“Mom?” she asked one afternoon after school. She was doing her math homework at the kitchen table, and her mom was preparing dinner.

“Yes, sweetheart? What is it?” 

“I think I like Sora.” 

Her mother paused a moment from chopping the carrots to give her a smile. “Oh really?”

“You don’t… seem all that surprised.” 

“Well, to be honest, I’m not.”

“Who told you?” Kairi asked, the blood draining from her face. If her mother of all people knew, then the entire town might know by now. 

“No one. Just a mother’s instinct… and observational skills.” 

Kairi felt her face getting hot again, and she set her pencil down and hid beneath her hands. “If you know, who else might have figured it out?” she moaned. 

“Relax, sweetheart, your secret’s safe with me. And trust me, Sora’s clueless. I told you that boys lag behind girls on these sorts of things, remember? They usually hit their growth spurts later, and girls aren’t really on their minds until they start going through puberty themselves—”

Kairi covered her ears. “I know, I know, please don’t give me the talk again or even mention the p-word.”

It was bad enough dealing with all the weird changes her body had been going through lately. She felt awkward and gangly, and her moods were all over the place. But she absolutely did not want to hear about the kinds of changes boys went through because it just made her all flustered and giggly and embarrassed. 

Her mom had joined her at the kitchen table, and she gently pried her hands off of her ears.

“It’s okay. I know all of this is awkward and scary, but it won’t last forever. Someday you’ll feel comfortable in your own skin again.”

“I will?” Kairi said, not really believing it. Her mother was so beautiful and confident, and so were the other ladies of Destiny Islands. Kairi felt so different from them that she didn’t think she’d ever reach their level. 

“Yes, you will. And someday, I suspect Sora might wake up and realize you’ve had a massive crush on him for years.”

“Mother!” 

Her mom smiled mischievously and squeezed her hand. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. But if it makes you feel any better, I also think that someday, he might wake up and realize he’s had a massive crush on you for years too.”

Kairi pretended to bury her nose in her math homework again after that, but she couldn’t get her mom’s words out of her mind. Was it possible Sora liked her too?

She felt the tugging on her pinkie again. That was the first time she’d felt it without him around. Was it because she was thinking of him? Or was he thinking of her?

That thought made it entirely impossible to focus on her homework, so she set it to the side for now and helped her mother finish making dinner.

“You know what you can do to help with the embarrassment when you’re around Sora?” her mom said as she handed her a potato to peel. 

“What?”

“Just talk to him. The more you do it, the more comfortable you’ll be around him again. And tease him, too. Not anything mean or rude, just playful banter. It’ll help get your mind off of your embarrassment, and he’ll understand you’re just messing with him. It’s what guys do with their friends to bond with them.” 

“That’s true, he and Riku tease each other all the time. All the guys do.” 

“Exactly. Throw in a little good-natured teasing and be willing to take it too, and you’ll be golden.” 

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

Sometimes everything changes in the blink of an eye. That was what Sora’s dad had told him, but he didn’t believe it until he experienced it for himself. 

One day, he was waiting by the docks to see if anyone was gonna show up so they could paddle to the Play Island. It was finally the weekend, and they could ignore school for a full day before they’d need to start even thinking about homework. 

Then Kairi arrived, and it was like the world had gone wonky. 

“Hey, Sora!”

“Hey, Kairi—”

When he looked up and saw her, the pieces of grass he’d been fiddling with dropped from his hands. Who was this person and what had happened to the old Kairi?

“Like it?” she said as she ran her fingers through her now-short hair. “I got it cut earlier today.”

“Oh, um, yeah, it looks great—”

More than great. It looked awesome. He hadn’t realized how good she would look with short hair because she hadn’t had it this short since they were kids. 

“I mean, you look good with any hairstyle, but um, short is—”

He winced. Man, why was he having such a hard time talking today?

“My mom took me shopping too, that’s where I got this outfit!” Kairi said as she twirled around for him. She wore a white tank top and a purple skort, and they looked good on her.

“Well?” she asked in a singsong voice, her face inches away from his. “What do you think?” 

His heart was racing, his mouth was dry, his palms were sweaty, his face was flushing, and his stomach was doing flips, but he tried his best to form a coherent sentence. 

“Um, you look great—”

She leaned back and smiled triumphantly. “Thank you.” 

Riku and Tidus and Wakka and Selphie arrived right around then, and Sora was glad he could get a few moments to pull it together. He wasn’t really sure where Kairi’s newfound boldness had come from, but he… he liked it.

His blush got worse, and a part of him wanted to sink into the ground or jump overboard into the water. What was all this weird stuff he was feeling? He felt this strange tugging in his pinkie too. What was that all about?

Then someone said something that made her laugh, and Sora grinned as she brought her hand to his mouth and giggled. She was really cute, and he always liked seeing her smile. 

Oh no. Oh no. He liked her. He liked Kairi. That was the only explanation. It had been slowly creeping up on him for months and months, and it had just slammed into him like one of Wakka’s blitzballs.

Crap, he couldn’t let her see how flustered she was making him. She’d think he was lame or silly or a huge dork. And there was no way she liked him too. He was the resident lazy bum and they were just friends. They’d always been friends, and she couldn’t possibly want anything more than that, right?

But then she looked his way. “What are you doing all by yourself Sora?” she called, tilting her head with a twinkle in her eye. “Come talk to us!” 

Seeing her smile and beckon to him, he felt his worries dissipate a little. Yeah, he’d need time to think all this weird confusing stuff over, but for now he wanted to be around her as much as possible.

There was that tugging in his pinkie again. Huh. Maybe… maybe it had something to do with her.

Well, whatever the reason, he’d sort that out later too. He shrugged and joined them, and before long things felt fine. No, better than ever. He saw Kairi in a new light now, and it was like the whole world had transformed along with her.

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

“Kairi, are you ready for this?” Naminé asked, pressing her fingers together. 

Kairi nodded and leaned back against the examination chair. “I’m sure. If there’s even a chance we can find a clue in my heart that might help us find Sora, I want to search for it.”

She fiddled with her pinkie finger. She hadn’t felt any tugs on it since Sora had disappeared, but that didn’t mean he was gone for good. 

“I’m sure you know this already Naminé, because you can see the connections between hearts, but I think Sora and I are connected somehow. Part of it’s because of the paopu fruit, and I know that made our connection stronger than ever. But there’s an older connection too. It’s fainter, but it’s been there for a long time now. That’s why I think searching my heart might lead to a clue.” 

“I think so too,” Naminé said. “Maybe that connection is what brought you to Destiny Islands in the first place. It’s worth checking out.”

She nodded again. “Yeah. And maybe… maybe that connection will lead me back to him.”

“If anyone can find him, you can. Best of luck, Kairi.”

Kairi said her final round of goodbyes to everyone, and then it was time to sleep, to dream. She had to chase the connection back, back, back to where it began.

She had to find out how fate had brought her and Sora together. Then, maybe then, she’d find him and bring him home.

Whether soulmates were made or born, she still wasn’t entirely sure. But if the scary man from her childhood nightmares could tamper with her fate… then maybe she could tamper with it, too. Fix it and make sure Sora came home like he was supposed to. Something felt wrong, something felt off about his disappearance, like the entire universe had gotten knocked off track. It was up to her to right things, to bring the greatest protector and defender the worlds had ever known home.

That was the promise she’d made to Sora, and those were her final thoughts before she slipped off to sleep. 

Whatever the future might have in store, she would find him. 

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A/N: The final scene in this story was inspired by Melody of Memory and my musings about how Sora and Kairi might be connected. I’m curious about why Kairi’s getting her memories from before back now of all times, and it tied in to the themes for today.

Thanks for reading!