#also I mean technically they don’t have any rooms will small beds

[milo-is-rambling]

Me when my mom spent all this money on a hotel room with a big bed and im temped to sleep on the little couch that isn’t long enough for me

[gayerthanevertbh]

widow behind closed doors pt. 1 | n.r

summary: You moved into a Craig's list apartment and met a woman through an online chat. Despite issues with your parents, you felt seen by the woman, the fleeting excitement rushing through your heart as she continues to develop a relationship with you online. However, the owner of the building, Steve Rogers, warns you to avoid the upper floor. You followed his orders, but wonder who lives behind closed doors and most of all, who is the woman behind the phone?

warnings: online dating, slight dark!natasha romanoff, age difference (natasha is 40 while reader is 20,) g!p natasha, manipulative behavior, and smut - 18+ minors dni

notes: not sure if i want to make this a story but this is just in case if i do. this is just the start of the series, this will also be posted on ao3 so let's see how it goes! let me know if you want me to continue it. don't worry, training season chapter two will be posted soon :)

Last month, as you turned nineteen, your mother kicked you out. Naturally, you lived at a friend's house for a short while until you had enough money to rent a new apartment close to your university. The fact is, out of all the websites, Craig's List was the one you used when looking for this apartment complex.

Fairly speaking, the apartment building looked normal—at least from your own vantage point—and had the required utility. Mail from the outside, a laundry facility, and a smoking section. Though you occasionally light one, you do not smoke. Conversely, your friend Julie smoked as if her lungs were not burning. She never listened to your advice about not smoking three times a day.

With a big huff from your lungs, you toppled the last box outside of your chamber. Steve and Wanda were two people who assisted you in getting settled. Grading them for helping you arrange things in your new room, you turned around with a friendly smile.

“Thank you again, Mr. Rogers,” you said as you shook his hand. “This room is pretty big.”

“No one really rents here,” the man replied with a small smile on his face. “It’s the least I can do. You know, especially that you’re a student.”

You chuckled, turning your head away. “Please, I don’t even want to hear about that.”

“How old are you?” Wanda asked with a curious look on her face. 

“I just turned 20 last month,” you said with a pained groan. It is not so ridiculous given your connection with your mother; you did not forget the time she kicked you out of the house. “How about you?”

She smiles. “We’re the same age! If you have time, maybe you could stop by my room. It’s just on the left corner of the building.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You both fell into silence until Steve held his hands together, staring at Wanda and then back at you. “Well, you should settle in. If you need anything, I’m just downstairs. You know the number of my apartment, you can just knock at anytime.”

“Steve, should we tell her about N—”

“We also want to inform you not to go to the upper floor,” Steve interrupts Wanda and says Your eyebrows wrinkled as you looked at the girl and saw her covering her face on her shoulder. “We have a friend who can be very... mean. She doesn’t like anyone going to her floor and she’s technically also the owner of this building.”

“Really? Oh,” you huffed, wondering who they were talking about. “Don’t worry, I will not go up there.”

Steve put his hand on your biceps and patted. “Thanks, kiddo. Anyway, just knock on our doors if you need any help.” 

You closed the door and sighed longingly as soon as they left your room. Today was going to be a long day of you sorting every box you had in this room; you would most likely desire take-out after all this chaos. You considered the woman living on the top floor as you were making your bed. What did she look like? When they claimed the woman was peculiar, what did they mean? So many thoughts crossed your head, trying to figure out who the woman was they were talking about. You shrugged, minded your own business, and soon nodded off. 

———

Late at night, you placed an order for a pizza, tried to watch a movie on your laptop, and visited a website none of your friends knew you were first visiting. Almost as if it were Omegle, the service allowed users to communicate with total strangers—and you could add them as friends via chat. Alone, you were eating a slice of pizza and texting a few people from the website. Carl, a male, asked whether he might have coffee with you tomorrow afternoon, but you gently turned him down since you just moved in. When, really, you have no interest in men. You consider them not as a lover but rather as a need.

Though it sounds horrible, that is reality. Men are often cruel, while women can communicate with you through their elegant, luxurious words. You enjoyed the sensation when a woman complements you for not just your appearance but also for the way you talk from your mind. It was not surprising that they adored you for your beauty; sometimes it can feel fantastic, but you wanted to be really understood—not only by appearance. And so, after some time, you were ready to shut your laptop until you noticed an email sign on top left.  

Someone has left you a message. 

You boldly opened the message and found a woman called Natalia messaged. As you went over her message, you grinned.

Natalia: Hey there! Are you new here?

You: no not really lol xD i’ve been using this website since a year ago.

Natalia: Strange :P I never saw you on my suggestions. Do you have an age limit to 40 plus?

You: yeah! i wanted to try something new

Natalia: Hm. Maybe that’s why I’ve never seen you here. Your name is Y/n? Or is that just a nickname? Haha.

You: nope, that’s definitely my name! And is your name not a nickname?

Natalia: Definitely not a nickname :)) 

As you spoke with this woman you could feel your heart beating and your body heating up like it was an oven. Since many people do this, you are simply hoping the conversation stays normal. Otherwise, things could go strange. They only pursue nudes, and you're honestly bored of that. You bit on your lower lip as you considered your response, but she slammed it right into you.

Natalia: How old are you? Are you really 20? ;((

You: yeah... heh. and are you really 40?

Natalia: Yup. It's weird, isn’t it?

You: are u looking for a sugar baby lol

You let out a quiet laugh as you waited for her response. 

Natalia: HAH! No, I’m not. I just really want to talk to someone. Is that bad these days? 

You: not really. i’m just a little traumatized by this website. everyone keeps asking me to send nudes. 

Natalia: I understand; sometimes young women ask me to send some too. So I understand how you feel :)

By the way, are you currently studying?

You: yessss! i study at NYU. :DD 

Natalia: Really?! That’s great! You know, when I was in my 20s, I tried to study there, but I lost all interest. It’s good that you still want to study :)))

Where do you live?

Given that you only connected with this woman online, it's best that you remain mum about your exact location; unfortunately, there are many predators in the world today. Even though it pains you deeply to lie to this woman, you couldn't help but chew on your lower lip as you considered telling a lie. Before you could mention that you lived at this new apartment, a thud on the floor interrupted you. With a quick turn of your head, you strode over to the door and opened it.

From over her shoulder, a woman shot you a lifeless stare, and you felt inadequate. You stepped outside and asked, “A-Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Grumbling under her breath, the woman made her way to the staircase. She picked up the paper bag and proclaimed, “Who are you supposed to be?”

You gulped down your saliva and muttered, “I’m new here.”

Turning her head away from you, the mysterious woman—who seemed like the most stunning woman you'd ever seen—muttered something in Russian that you couldn't quite decipher. Her boots thudded loudly as she walked upstairs, shaking her head dismissively. The door slams shut, and your body twitches in response. 

The woman was, in fact, very intimidating.

And strange. 

And mean. 

As you shut the door, you sigh and try to comprehend that the woman might have been going through a difficult time. Steve was spot-on from the start: the second floor is not a good place to be. Reason being, you might get booted out if you indulged your curiosity. You sat back down on the bed and swiftly typed back to Natalia, who was waiting for your response; the once-bustling city of New York was now peaceful. You shut the curtains. Somehow, you wish she had been waiting for you.

You: sorry... some mean neighbor was at my door. Lollll

Natalia: It’s okay :)) It’s late there, darling. Aren’t you supposed to be asleep? 

She referred to you as "darling" and tossed your head back onto the pillow. You struggle to suppress your scream. As you let out a heavy sigh while you mentally resorted to thoughts of Natalia, completely disregarding the brief encounter you had with the unfamiliar woman just moments before. Having an attraction to older women was undeniable; it was just your personality. With a hint of excitement building inside of you, you snatched your laptop from the foot of the bed and began typing away, taking matters into your own hands.

God, you were such a fool.

You: yeah but i have to finish my pizza before i go to bed!

how about you?

Natalia: Can’t. I have work ;(( 

Talk to me tomorrow, okay? I like this conversation that we are having. ;)) 

Even though you were unhappy that she had to leave, you couldn't help but notice that it was getting close to two in the morning. You wanted to stay up all night, so you sigh and type on your keyboard. 

You: okay! :D gnnn x

Natalia: Goodnight, darling. 

Your mind was at peace with Natalia while you slept, which hasn't happened in a long time. What does she look like when you meet her face to face? Was she attractive? Even though you hadn't laid eyes on her face, you were certain that she was. Despite this, you were hoping to ask about sneak peeks so that you could avoid sleepless nights in the future. However, you recalled that you had met an unknown woman on the internet—a self-assured person. You definitely wouldn't cross paths with her in person.

Right?

yes ik a repost eugh

[thewritetofreespeech]

Gale x Tav

words: 1613

rating: E

pairing: Gale x Tav (post game pairing)

summary: part ii of the previous Gale x Tav work. (part i part iii)

tags: magic sex (literally. but also metaphorically), heterosexual sex, f/m, slight voyeurism, Gale still using magic for naughty reasons

To say it was hard to focus the rest of the day was an understatement.

Not only were you still reeling from what Gale had done earlier, you were also now looking forward to tonight when he would do it again.

Once classes were over, and the day done, you went home immediately. You ate a small dinner, which you weren’t hungry for with your stomach in knots, but Gale would be disappointed if you didn’t eat. You took a bath. Then you laid naked in bed waiting for the fun to start. The two of you hadn’t set a time. So, you anxiously waited to start feeling the now familiar touch on your clit and body from Gale’s ring.

You weren’t sure if it had been a while or blink of time, your anticipation making it hard to get an accurate read on an internal clock, but eventually the sensations started. You let out a sigh as you sunk deeper into the soft bedding.

Now that you knew what was going on, and you were alone, you were able to enjoy it fully. Letting your body go with the feeling. Uninhabitable moaning. Touching parts of your body that the ring wasn’t linked to. Your mouth gasped open as you cupped your breasts and played with your nipple. Pleasure building as you writhed on the bed for your phantom lover.

“Gods above….”

Your eyes snap open at the sound of that hushed exclamation. Sitting up on your elbows and seeing Gale there in the doorway. In the flesh. His own eyes on you with this look of dumbfounded stupor and lust. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at the summit.”

“I left early.” He told you. Crossing over the threshold now and into the room. “There was only one more day, and it was boring anyhow, so I told them I had to return home. Because my wife needed me.” You bite your lips and draw your knees closer together, as you feel a warm pull in the pit of your stomach. Technically, he didn’t lie. Oh, how you needed him.

Gale was by the bed quickly and was already out of most of the buttons on his shirt by the time he was there. “I see my new present works. Do you like it?”

“It’s certainly…stimulating.” You reply in a cheeky manner. Gale returns your smirk and touched the stone on his ring again. The reaction instantaneous as you moan to the feeling. Somehow more intense and arousing with him in the room.

“I’ll say. It certainly was stimulating watching you enjoy it earlier today through my minds eye.” The wizard climbed on the bed and on top of you with an uncharacteristic amount of grace for a wizard. His eye, normally warm and a soft brown, burning with desire only for you. “I had to come back and see it for myself.”

Your arms wrap around Gale’s neck and pull him down for a kiss. Unable to wait any longer. The kiss was hungry. Passionate. The build up was one thing, but now that Gale was here, it was like an inferno had been lit inside you. You don’t think Karlach and her infernal engine could burn as hot as you did right now for your husband.

Gale returned your fire wholeheartedly. It was a surprise. The former chosen was by no means apathetic in bed, but he usually liked to take things slow. Be patient. Capture and build on the moment. Make sure everything was done thoroughly and properly before you both exhaled in ecstasy and calling it a night. Now, however, he was like a man consumed with fervor. The distance and almost 8 hours of foreplay ‘til now, if you counted the anticipation from this afternoon until now, seemed to have its effect on Gale as well.

He fumbled with his trousers as he tried to get out of them but not break the kiss. Eventually, he realized that was impossible, and let out a curse as he pulled back from you to get them off. “Such language, professor.”

Gale smirked at you. Immediately back on top of you once he was free. “You’re one to talk. I heard you earlier, and just now. Nearly as bad as that foul mouth pixie.” Hardly, you want to tell him. But Gale was shifting his weight above you and pulled off his ring before handing it to you. “Here. Put it on.” He was already slipping the ring onto your finger by the time he finished asking. The band only able to fit on your thumb with the size difference in your fingers. “I want you to use it while I make love to you. Feel the full effect of its magic while I’m inside you.”

Your mind lets out a guttural moan at the suggestion, but your lips stay closed as you examine the ring. It was a thrilling idea. To be, in part, the master of your own pleasure. Hesitantly you touch the ruby red stone on the ring and feel a surge of sensation rush from your center and up your spine. This time, you do indeed moan.

“Gods above…it is better in person….” Gale’s attention seemed fixed on your face, fascinated by it, as he brought up a hand to caress your cheek.

Your eyes open, and you have to assume your eyes are as black as the darkness of Shar. “Are you going to just stay there and stare at me?” Your head lances up, out of his grasp, to give him a biting kiss. “Or are you going to fuck me?”

There was a low growl from Gale. Though he was usually a man who didn’t appreciate vulgar words in his immense vocabulary, in bed was the only place he tolerated them. Judging by the twitch of his cock against your inner thigh, he more than just tolerated them.

Never one to disappoint a request from his lover, Gale moved to position himself between your legs and slid in. You were so wet from earlier, and the anticipation of finally getting a hard cock inside you, that there was little resistance as he pushed in. You moan eagerly. Though the Mage Hands earlier today had been nice they were nothing compared to the firm feel of your husband inside you. “Gods you’re so hard….”

“You’re not the only one in need, my love.”

He began to thrust. Slow and deep inside you. Sweet words of how much he missed you this week fall from that skilled tongue. You reciprocate his feelings but are too tightly wound to respond. So you just babble.

His thrusting increases and you feel like you’re on the edge of a great void. Been on the edge of some great void. Yet you can’t jump off of it. You reach of Gale’s ring still on your finger from he behind his head, your legs and arms wrapped tight around his back, and start to rub. A cry came out of your mouth as it was more intense than before, but you were surprised to hear Gale cry out as well.

“Hells…I can feel it….” His hip movements become erratic as he thrust deeper and faster into you. Seeming to want to get closer to the sensation. “I never expected….this is an unexpected turn of events….Oh Gods…is this what it’s been like for you?”

You want to tell him yes but you’re too lost in ecstasy to say anything coherent. The magic from Gale’s ring teasing your clit. His hard cock plunging into your body. Hands on your breasts and body so much so that you wonder if he had in fact called Mage Hands back into play. Still you were just on that precipice. Until you toppled over it not with a step but violent push. Your body & mind racked with waves of pleasure that batter you like a ship as your hands cling to the bedding to make sure you weren’t swept away in its current.

Gale continues until you fall back to the bed like jelly, and he collapses on top of you. Clearly having splendidly finished as well.

After a moment to catch your breath, Gale rolled over beside you to his side. Then with a tired, limp hand he reached over to remove his ring. Placing it safely on the nightstand where it wouldn’t be bumped and cause anymore trouble. “That was amazing.”

“It certainly was.” You agree as you curl up beside him.

“You were amazing. I had no idea when I created this that it would…well…be so…” It was amusing to watch Gale stumble over his words on the topic. Like he hadn’t just aggressively fucked you into the mattress like a mad man. Like he hadn’t come up with the idea for his ring all on his own. “Well I think the word ‘stimulating’ was used earlier, and that certainly hit the spot.”

“You certainly did.”

You giggle at Gale’s flustered expression. Still finding the shift from Gale 30 seconds ago to now utterly amusing. And in all honesty, incredibly hot. You lean up to give him a kiss before your tired bones give out and call you back to the bed. “Let’s get some sleep. We can certainly do more ‘experimenting’ tomorrow, if you’d like.”

Gale doesn’t respond. But you can see the grin out of the corner of your eye before the close with desire for sleep. He lifted his hand and waved it in the air. A blanket carefully draping over you to magically tuck you in. Magic was certainly helpful for so many things.

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

grumpy!reader x sunshine!spencer

Ruffled Feathers

Summary: Spencer wants to go grocery shopping early while Reader prefers sleeping in.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content warnings: none

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: thank you for the request, love 🩵

“Let’s get the grocery shopping done early,” Spencer said at seven in the morning. “That way we have the rest of the day to spend at my place if we want," he said. The word “early” has a completely different meaning to you than to your peppy, early-bird boyfriend.

While you believe early is 9 am and anything before that should be considered unnatural, Spencer is always up before the sun. It’s pretty common to wake up to sunlight forcing your eyes to open while Spencer is in the living room on his second cup of coffee and rereading Tolstoy or Dickens. He never minds you sleeping in. He’ll even offer to make your coffee if he sees you peeling the covers off.

He offered you a cup this morning, and God did you take every drop. You got halfway through the second cup before Spencer was already itching to leave. Something else Spencer enjoys a lot is grocery shopping, eager like a puppy ready for the park. Luckily he offered to drive while you nursed on your second cup, shielding it from any hazardous bumps on the way.

You could admit your frustration with Spencer not giving you the time to wake up before heading out, but your silence throughout the drive says plenty. He’s familiar with it. It’s the silence that comes with five hours of sleep. He understands this is not a time to dabble in the produce section or the dairy aisle. He also understood you were ready to leave before even getting started, as you didn’t even try to change out of your pajamas.

That is one of the best things about having a profiler as a boyfriend. All the subtle cues and behavior changes he picks up on, and if he knows you well enough, he acts accordingly. So when he puts the car in the park, you feel him watching you take that last satisfying gulp of sugary liquid. Caffeine courses through your blood as you shakily put your travel mug between you in the cup holder. You both don’t speak a word when Spencer hands you a folded-up sheet of paper. You unfold it and read his scribbles: milk, cheese, ice cream, peanut butter, celery, sliced apples.

You look at Spencer. “There’s not much on mine.” Your voice is still groggy, but you clear it to sound more awake. It doesn’t work.

“I can take care of the rest.” He tells you, holding up his half (⅔ technically). “You can meet me at the checkout and we’ll be ready to head home.”

You nodded, mostly at the end of that sentence. Because crawling back into bed after a brief productive period has never sounded so heavenly. You were literally dressed for the occasion and suddenly eager to grocery shop, knowing this list is brief and the store is small. You’ll be done in minutes.

Upon entering the store, you and Spencer grab your respective shopping carts and split up. Spencer takes his cart and kicks on, his left foot perched onto the cart as he glides forward like a ballerina turned rogue from her box. You, however, patrol up and down, finding items in various orders. The brands you’re used to were in plenty. You even grabbed an extra jar of peanut butter for your secret (sometimes inebriated) snacking purposes.

Remembering said snacking ventures, you recall your favorite candy bar. You also recall how you’ve been low on stock at your place for weeks since they’re only sold at Spencer’s local store. The candy aisle is feet away at this point, so the decision is obvious. You charge toward it, with the brand and packaging in mind. You scan the shelves up and down, prominent brands obvious with saturated wrappers and bold lettering. At the end of the aisle, though, you learn the hard way that the candy bars, your candy bars, are out of stock.

Granted, it’s not a big deal. But it’s also a very big deal.

You try to drown out the deep sound of your disappointment. It strikes your soul, yet you push on, toward the self-checkout area. Spencer is already there, scanning items, and waving you over as if you didn’t already see him. You use your caffeine-coated might to push the cart along, past the forming line.

You give Spencer your items, per his request for extra points on his value card. You also let him bag and place them in the cart. Spencer nods and smiles as he reviews each item. The beep of the scanner is almost perfect with his efficiency and the look of small joys on his face is nearly enough to drown out your slightly exaggerated despair. Caffeine can help you behave the opposite, even though exhaustion is soon to follow.

You look back to find your cart empty, the other filled with eight bags. You both head to the exit and then to the car, each carrying four bags. The sun begins to blaze and the early summer heats up your fuzzy pajamas. The car is mere feet away as sweat breaks. Spencer, of course, cannot relate. Because every time you look over from one end of the parking lot to the other, he has this smirk on his face that you can't quite read.

You open Spencer's car's back door and put your bags in first. After shaking your arms from the burn of the weighted plastic bags left behind, you reach for the passenger door. Spencer, on the other hand (literally, he’s still holding bags, risking spillage), reaches out for your wrist. With your fingers wrapped around the handle, you look at your boyfriend with questioning eyes. He gives you one of the bags, leaving its own imprint on his skin. He says, "Take it," his smirk grows.

One eyebrow pricks up with a look of suspicion. All questions in your mind fall under the What Did You Do? Category. You take it anyway, with both hands as you let go of the door handle. “Do I ask?”

“Look at the bottom.”

You do as told, continuing to stare as you send your hand on a spelunking mission for secrets you’re not sure what to feel about. The matte finish with raised lettering screams out something very special. Your fingers brush against the sharp corners of the foil layer in the middle, and you count three of them: candy bars. Your favorite candy bars. You look up at Spencer. And as your skepticism melts into a soft pout, Spencer does the same. Is he mocking you? Yes. Does it soon morph into genuine pride at being the best boyfriend ever? Also yes.

And after your expression melts, your arms do too as they fall limp around Spencer’s waist. You hug him tight while burying your face in his chest.

[soapyghostie]

Hey! Can I request Bubba sawyer x reader where the reader is pregnant with bubba’s child and how the family (brothers and grandpa) would react to it and what they’d do (especially if the reader had been in the family for years and all love her very much, in their own ways).

I’ve been working on this request for so long since I had to put it aside for schoolwork. However, I had sometime to finish writing it so I did so I could post it. Hope you enjoy!

Bubba Sawyer

When you first announce your pregnancy to Bubba, his face lights up with excitement and joy. He’s jumping up and down, squealing happily. He’ll give you a big hug too. The hug is not as tight as Bubba’s normal hugs are so as to not hurt the baby. But God! He’s just so excited to become a father to your child! 

Although excited, internally Bubba is hiding his nervousness about becoming a father. He wants to be able to provide for you and y’all’s unborn child, but he worries about his abilities as a parent. If you notice his nervousness through his body language, please reassure him. He needs a lot of reassurance from you that he’ll be a good father to y’all’s child. 

Bubba’s protective instincts will kick in upon learning about the pregnancy. He becomes more vigilant, ensuring your safety within the Sawyer family home. He can’t be by your side 24/7 because he has chores and provides ‘meat’ for the family so he has you stay inside the house throughout the day when victims are around. It is the safest place for you to be. 

Bubba always cherishes quiet moments with you, as it’s often chaotic in the Sawyer household, often placing his hand gently on your stomach to feel the child’s moments. 

Bubba is always at your beck-and-call, getting you whatever you want or need. Snacks? Water? Foot massage? Whatever you ask for Bubba will get it for you! He’ll make sure that you're always comfortable. He grunts and nods conveying his love and concern as his way of making sure you’re alright. 

Drayton sees the pregnancy as an opportunity to expand the Sawyer family and continue the family legacy. He’s eager to welcome another member into the fold and spoils you with his cooking a lot. You gotta feed the baby, even before it’s born, so it becomes big and strong. 

Nubbins is ecstatic about becoming an uncle. He’ll get in your face and bombard you with questions about the baby names and nursery decorations, his enthusiasm is infectious. He’ll even help decorate the baby’s room too!

ChopTop, in his usual eccentric manner, jokes about being your baby’s quirky uncle. He’ll pepper you with offbeat parenting advice, much to you and Bubba’s amusement. Don’t even listen to him. He doesn’t even know what the heck he’s talking about. 

Grandpa Sawyer, though most of the time silent, will offer you quiet words of wisdom and true parenting advice (not any of ChopTop’s bullshit), imparting lessons learned from generations of Sawyers. 

Despite their unconventional lifestyle, the Sawyer family works to create a nurturing environment for you and the unborn child. They all eagerly await the new addition and with their help you and Bubba prepare for parenthood. 

The family loves to shower you with gifts for the baby, each item reflecting each family member's unique personalities and interests. Some of them are “interesting” if I do say so myself. What I mean by that is that you are really questioning about keeping some of the gifts, especially the ones from Nubbins and ChopTop. However, you do get gifts such as handmade toys and small clothes for the baby.  

You and Bubba will bond over the anticipation of parenthood. Y’all discuss a lot about y’all’s hopes and dreams for y’all’s child as y’all lay in bed, drifting off to sleep. Y’all share your dreams about being future parents, envisioning a life filled with love and laughter even though y’all don’t have the best or the brightest life (if you know what I mean since the Sawyers are technically cannibals that are always on the run).

Y’all would also bond over preparing the nursery for the baby’s arrival. You would put up the decorations, since it’s the easiest thing to do, and Bubba will try his best to create a crib. He’s not the best at carpentry, but he knows enough to get by and make a decent and stable one. 

As y’all wait for the baby’s arrival, you and Bubba embark on a new chapter together. Despite the uncertainty of y’all’s circumstances, you both find solace in the bond y’all share and the love that binds y’all together to y’all’s peculiar family.

[syoish-aot]

"I Found You (too)" - EREN/READER - REINCARNATION AU (chapter 4)

eren/reader

Rating: M

2020s reincarnation of marleyan nurse reader & undercover eren

2.4k words

also on Ao3

<- chapter 3 | chapter 5 ->

Liberio, 854

After two months, you and Mr. Kruger established a routine.

Every morning you woke him up.

You gave him his medication (slipping the green sedative into your pocket to dispose of later), checked his vitals and made your notes about his progress.

Then you helped him change so he could go down to breakfast.

He got free time for a few hours.

You made sure he ate lunch.

After that, he went to physical therapy with Dr. Rall.

He was normally in a bad mood after physical therapy so he would return to his room to read whatever he’d been given from the library. You’d commented on his books a few times because they were normally ones you’d read, but he never wanted to talk about them. Sometimes it made you wonder if he was reading them at all. Sometimes you thought he might have been staring at the words with his mind somewhere else, only returning to his body when an appropriate amount of time had passed and he should flip to the next page.

Regardless, he was there for another hour.

After that he had dinner. A shower (on his days to do so). And then it was back to his room for his last dose of medications before you locked him up for the night.

You chatted sometimes throughout the day as you made his bed or checked his blood pressure. And every day you noticed him getting a little more talkative. 

He was healing. That was why he talked more now. He was healing. 

That fact alone would make any nurse proud, which it did; but at the same time, selfishly, it also did something else…

“Do you think you’ll be discharged soon?” You asked as you packed up your small bag of equipment once you were done changing his bandages. 

His eye wasn’t healing as quickly as it should have been. You were worried about it, but it wasn’t your place to say anything, so you put it in your notes instead and left it up to the doctors to discuss.

“Dunno.” He answered casually.

“What’ll you do once you are? Do you have family in the internment zone?”

His silence said everything. 

“I don’t either.” You told him before he looked over at you. “Have family, I mean. My parents died a few years ago and my older brother he-” You froze, bandages half packed into your bag as the sight of it flashed through your mind.

The sight of your older brother’s corpse strung up against the outer wall of the internment zone.

Rope. Flesh. Crimson words on faded brick.

No.

You pushed the memory away, filling your head with other thoughts to replace it:

A house. A warm bed. Homemade food.

Better.

“Anyway.” You cleared your throat as you shoved the rest of the bandages into your bag and zipped it closed. “I guess that’s why I’m so much of a workaholic!” You laughed.

“Hm.” Was Mr. Kruger’s only reply.

“Maybe that’s what you could do once you get out of here!”

“What? Be a workaholic?” His tone was dry and void of emotion, but you now knew that was how he told jokes.

“Oh ha-ha.” You answered back in a tone just as dry. “Not a workaholic,” you were back to smiling as you grabbed your bag, “but a job.”

“Yeah,” he said as he glanced out the window, “maybe…”

Two Days Later

Mr. Kruger wasn’t in his room.

Which wasn’t a bad thing. His schedule indicated that it was his free time so he was allowed to be in the open areas of the hospital. It was just that normally during said free time he still kept himself locked away. You should have been happy to see him getting fresh air for once, and you were happy, but…

You’d smuggled him a peach tart from the morning market and you wanted to make sure he got a chance to try it before you were found out.

It wasn’t your first time sneaking him food that he technically wasn’t supposed to be having. It had started with small things: candies, apples, the occasional warm tea. Each time you did it he mumbled a short “thank you” as he slowly ate whatever you’d brought him.

Whenever it happened there was a fraction of a second where you were filled with warmth.

The same warmth you felt when you thought of-

A warm house. A scratchy couch. Homemade food.

You tried not to think too hard about why Mr. Kruger reminded you of that warmth, but he did. Despite his tired appearance, his slouched shoulders, and the monotone way in which he spoke- something about the moments you spent with him were warm. And because of that warmth they often always brought you somewhere better. Somewhere without brick walls, blood, and spray paint.

Somewhere nice.

With the shake of your head, you pulled yourself back to reality and continued down the hall in search of Mr. Kruger.

From the stairwell on the first floor, where a large window faced down to the lower courtyard, you spotted him. A tree covered half of the bench he was sitting on, concealing the person that he was talking to. But he was talking, and it made you smile.

Mr. Kruger kept to himself most of the time, so the notion that he might have made a friend was something new.

You could see his lips moving, his beautiful eyes set against the blank expression he always wore, the way his shoulders slouched as he sat there with his crutch leaning against the bench next to him. 

You watched him. 

And maybe you spent a little bit longer than you should have doing it, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You didn’t know what he was saying, but you could imagine the gravelly tone of his voice. The tired sarcasm he snuck in on occasion. The soft sighs he’d let out as he paused in what he was saying. You didn’t know what he was saying, but you’d talked to him enough to imagine what it sounded like.

To imagine the short “thank you” that he would mumble as you passed him the peach tart.

Mr. Kruger leaned forward and stared at the ground in front of his feet as he kept talking to his mysterious friend.

Everything was warm.

And then the sound of a doctor chatting with a nurse as they walked together down the hall pulled you away from that warmth.

Birds pecking flesh from bone- brick walls- crimson words.

You tore yourself away from the window to head down the stairs towards him.

By the time you joined Mr. Kruger, his new friend was gone. Maybe they went back to their room or they had grown bored of the conversation. As much as Mr. Kruger was your favourite patient, he made for a pretty terrible conversationalist. 

He was still staring at the ground as you approached. 

“There’s a surprise in your room~” You sang as you sat down next to him.

“What kind of surprise?”

“If I told you it would ruin the surprise part of it.”

He sighed. “You’re going to make me walk all the way up there, on one leg, without giving me a reason for why I should be doing it?”

His dry sense of humor (at least you thought it was humor, honestly maybe he was being serious, you could never really tell) made you laugh.

“Your free time’s almost over anyway,” you pointed out.

“Hm…” Mr. Kruger hummed in agreement before he reached for his crutch and used it to support himself as he stood. 

Your eyes fell to the bench. “Is this yours?” You asked, grabbing the baseball and holding it up to him.

“It was a gift.” Mr. Kruger answered as he started to walk away.

You followed after him, tossing the old ball between your hands. “Whoever got it for you must not know you very well,” you commented.

Mr. Kruger stopped walking and looked over at you with his visible eyebrow raised, wordlessly asking you to elaborate. 

“It’s just-...” you looked down at the ball again, “you’re not exactly in the right condition to play catch.”

You met his eyes.

Then you gestured to his missing leg.

For the first time ever, Mr. Kruger smiled. He let out a short huff of amusement and then kept walking.

You didn’t follow after him though.

You couldn’t.

Instead, you stared at the back of his head- completely transfixed by the way his smile lit up his face and made deep green eyes all the more breathtaking.

Warmth.

A warm room. A warm bed. A warm life.

Nothing but warmth.

Your knees felt weak. Your arms like noodles. And for a moment, you wondered if Mr. Kruger would let you borrow his crutch.

He thanked you for the tart and ate it right away.

He didn’t smile again, but his eyes lit up enough that he may as well have.

That night, when you were trying to fall asleep you took yourself somewhere nice.

A warm house, just big enough for two. Nice food. And a comfortable bed.

It was the same place you always went, the same place you’d been visiting your whole life. So peaceful and warm and safe.

You thought about Mr. Kruger’s eyes. You thought about Mr. Kruger’s smile. You thought about Mr. Kruger’s laugh.

“What is this place?” Mr. Kruger asked as he appeared in front of you. As he sat down on the scratchy couch and looked up at you with his expression blank, shoulders slouched, and a crutch propped up next to him.

You had never had guests here before.

.

.

.

The sun rose and lit up your cramped nurse’s quarters, pulling you back into the real world.

The world that didn’t have anything nice at all.

The world of rope… …of flesh torn from bone… …of two crimson words spray painted on the brick wall…

Two words. Words that haunted you.

Rope. Brick. Crimson.

That wasn’t the scary part. It had never been the scary part. The scary part had always been the words.

The rope. The brick. The crimson.

None of those things bothered you anymore. They were just reality but-

Mr. Kruger’s eyes. Mr. Kruger’s smile. Mr. Kruger’s laugh.

Those things had somehow become reality too…

Two words against a wall.

Mr. Kruger on that couch.

Two words.

The most terrifying part of the memory.

                                And it was just two words:

…Eldian Lover…

You’d always had a problem with spacing out.

Always ended up physically in this world, but with your head completely elsewhere. Ever since you were a little kid, chatting with your older brother about somewhere nice, it’s what you’d done. You’d been called out for it before- normally by your coworkers and occasionally by your friends.

“There she goes again,” they’d say, “there she goes into her daydreams.”

No one ever asked what you were thinking about, which you were glad for because you’d have to make up a quick lie if they did. It was always “snap out of it”, “wake up”, “come back to us”. It was never: “what was it like?”, “what did you do?”, “where did you go?”

Mr. Kruger was the same.

For you, it was the blank hospital walls but for Mr. Kruger-

For Mr. Kruger, it was the window.

You were packing up your bag of supplies, ready to move onto your next patient; and as you did so you watched him.

You watched him stare out the window- not to the courtyard below, or the trees that lined it, or even to the street that ran in front of the hospital.

That’s not what he was looking at. Never what he was looking at.

Mr. Kruger’s eyes were always on something else.

They were always on the horizon.

You couldn’t blame him for it, really. He knew what was below him, what was next to him, what was around him; but the horizon-... well…

Over the horizon, there could be just about anything.

“Where do you go, Mr. Kruger?” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

Where do you go?

It was the question that no one ever asked you, so you wondered what he would say in reply. Would he tell the truth? Would he lie? Would he even answer you at all?

You didn’t know how he would answer, but you still asked him anyway.

Where do you go?

At first, he didn’t look back. At first, he just kept staring. At first, you wondered if he even heard you at all. But then: “Hm?” He hummed, not moving a muscle.

You clarified: “When you stare out that window and slip away,” you asked, “where is it that you go?”

Slowly. Hesitantly. As if he wasn’t even aware that he was doing it: Mr. Kruger’s gaze moved from the window and back to you.

Your breath caught. You wanted to look away. You should look away. You should look away and stand up, grab your bag and lock the door behind you as you left.

The words came to mind before you could do anything to stop them: Eldian Lover

You didn’t get up. Instead-

Instead, you didn’t do any of that.

Instead, you stayed in a room you shouldn’t have stayed in, looking at a man you shouldn’t look at, while your heart sped up in a way it shouldn’t.

There were a lot of “shouldn’t”s when it came to Mr. Kruger.

The biggest one being how you felt every time his eyes met yours.

But you couldn’t help it that your stomach flipped. You couldn’t help it that your cheeks turned pink. That your heart hammered against your chest and that you were suddenly flooded with warmth. You knew why your body did this- why it had always done this, despite the fact that it shouldn’t.

Two crimson words.

Eldian lover. Eldian lover. Eldian lo-

No.

A warm home. A soft touch. A homemade meal on a scratchy couch.

Better.

Mr. Kruger was still looking at you. Still staring with a reply to your question hanging off his barely parted lips.

Where do you go, Mr. Kruger?

You hoped he would answer you. You hoped he would tell you. You hoped you’d learn all about his special place in the horizon.

But instead, he said something else.

Instead, he became the first person to ever ask you:

“...where do you?”

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Subject G-5: 'Magpie'

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heyo! this chapter is a fucking MONSTER. biggest one yet. but that's what i get for trying to condense a character's entire backstory into one chapter lol. I'm sure you can guess who's backstory it is ;P

Enjoy!

CWs: living weapon whump, minor whump, whipping, electrocution, stress positions, non-con body modification, lab whump, starvation, controlling whumper, vomit, various other bodily fluids

Subject G-5: 'Magpie'

Maggie sighed, sinking further against the cushions as Diego’s hand massaged preen oil through the feathers on her back and wings, straightening them out and cleaning any debris out of them. After having to suffer through trying to do it herself with her limited human flexibility for the first nine months of her life, having someone else to help her with preening was something she would truly never take for granted. It wasn’t just her wings she had to worry about; the feathers trailed all the way down her spine, coalescing in a small, useless tail at her coccyx. Basically, it was a whole lot of work. At least she was blessed with a preen gland, producing her own preen oil and saving her the struggle of having to find another way to maintain her feathers’ quality, despite the fact that other people tended to find it…offputting. 

Well, Andreas was an asshole anyway, so what did she care about his opinion? Diego didn’t mind, and Hex never knew anything different. They were the only ones that mattered.

Maggie heard the door to Hex’s room open, and she plodded over to them, taking a seat on the couch near Maggie’s feet.

“Hey Diego?” she asked. “Can we get McDonalds for dinner?”

“That depends,” he hummed. The sound instinctively made Maggie relax. “Have you finished your studies for this week yet?”

Despite the fact that she was out of Maggie’s line of sight, she could almost feel Hex’s pout. “Maggie didn’t finish hers last week, but you still bought her chinese food when she asked!”

“Hey, I’ve been busy working at the construction site, making money so we can eat! I don’t always have time to read books,” Maggie complained. “Also, Diego loves me.”

“Actually, last week you skipped out on studying to try and go after Jordyn again, and she kicked your butt so bad she broke three of your ribs.”

“‘Scuse you! I kicked her butt! You weren’t there, you didn’t see!”

“I’ve gotta give that one to Hex, babe,” Diego said. “I did tell you not to go.”

“Whatever. Either way, I sorted it. She won’t be coming after us.”

“Anyway, that’s besides the point,” Hex said. “The point being: is McDonalds on the table tonight?”

“...Actually, I could go for some McDonalds right now, too,” Maggie muttered.

Diego laughed. “Fine. But that’s the last time I’m ordering takeout for the rest of the month!”

Hex protested, and Maggie smiled as the conversation between her sister and her boyfriend continued on above her. A comforting warmth settled in her belly; pride and happiness in herself for succeeding in giving her little sister at least some semblance of a normal childhood. It wasn’t perfect by any means – it couldn’t be, what with the memories of the things they suffered in the facility still plaguing them every day – but like this, Hex at least got a chance. She got to bicker with her sister without getting beaten for it, got to skip out on her studies to play video games like a normal kid. Granted, Maggie herself was still learning just what ‘normal’ was. Despite the difference between their physical ages, she was only four months older than Hex, technically speaking. Having Diego around was certainly helpful, though. Without his help, the two of them would probably still be the naive, bumbling idiots they’d been the day they broke out of the facility.

Maggie closed her eyes, relaxing into the couch and reminiscing on how she got to where she was today.

—

5 MONTHS AFTER WAKING

Magpie sat on the end of her bed, shivering. She didn’t know why. She wasn’t cold, not with her wings wrapped around herself protectively like they were. There was nothing to be scared of in the immediate vicinity. And yet, this horrible, pervasive anxiety just wouldn’t leave her alone.

It had been there since this afternoon, when Father screamed at and hit her for flying over the obstacle course instead of running through it. She didn’t understand why it mattered if she could run well when she had a perfectly good pair of wings on her back to help her fly. It was stupid. Father was stupid. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but something just wasn’t right about this whole situation.

As far back as she could remember, Father had been there, helping her recover after waking up from her supposed ‘accident.’ He was trying to help her become a superhero again, or so he said. Magpie just wasn’t sure that she believed it. If he was trying to help her, why would he turn around and hurt her in the same breath? Why did he want so much control over her, to the point where he refused to let her leave the facility, no matter how much she begged? It just didn’t sit right.

Really though, what was she supposed to do? Her memories were completely gone. She had no knowledge of who she used to be, or how the world worked. She had no choice but to just stick with Father until she learned more. Then, she would make a decision on whether or not to trust him.

She occupied herself by running her fingers through the feathers of her wings, straightening them out. Their softness was reassuring, but it did little to settle the quiver of unease that had sunken all the way down into her bones. 

The door opened, and Father walked in. Magpie instinctively hopped off of her bed, ready to defend herself. 

He studied her, eyeing her up and down, before sighing. “Come in, Hex.”

Someone entered the room behind him. Magpie gasped.

The girl was a lot younger than her, shyly hiding behind Father’s leg. Her short-cropped hair was black, just like Magpie’s, and she shared her tan skin. In fact, the girl was practically identical to her aside from her age and the lack of wings on her back. Who the hell was she?!

Father turned to the young girl. “This is the older sister I was telling you about. Her name is Magpie. You’re going to be staying with her from now on, okay?”

“What is this? What’s going on?” Magpie asked.

Father sighed again. “I’m truly sorry, I should have told you this earlier. Hex here is your younger sister. She was injured in the same accident as you, and only woke up a month ago. Since then, she’s been going through the same rehabilitation program that you did, and is finally well enough to join you properly.”

Magpie had absolutely no memory of a younger sister, but… what else could this girl possibly be? She looked exactly like her. It wasn’t like she had memories of anything else either, to be fair, and from the look on her face, Hex was thinking a similar line of thought.

Father placed a hand on Hex’s back and pushed her further into the room. A spark of protectiveness instinctively rose in Magpie’s chest.

“Get to know each other. Another bed will be brought in shortly.”

With that, Father left. Magpie and Hex stared at each other.

“I didn’t know I had a big sister,” Hex said. Her eyes kept flickering to Magpie’s wings. Magpie smirked.

“Well, I didn’t know I had a little sister, either.” She sat back down on the bed, motioning for Hex to join her. “You don’t remember anything either, huh?”

Hex shook her head, tentatively climbing up next to Magpie. 

“Even if I have no memories of you, it’s nice to finally not be alone. No one else… gets how hard it is, not knowing anything. Y’know?”

Hex hummed in agreement, but she seemed a bit distracted. “Can I… Um… Can I touch your wings?”

Magpie chuckled. “Sure. But be gentle.”

Hex reached out, carefully running her fingers along the feathers. Magpie tried not to shiver. The touch was gentler than anything she’d ever felt from another person before, and honestly, it was starting to get her a little choked up, especially with the cute little smile on Hex’s face as she did it.

There was something on the back of her neck. Magpie frowned.

“Hey, let me see the back of your neck?”

“Hm? Okay.”

Hex shifted a little to allow access. Sure enough, there it was. Starting just below her hairline, there were a bunch of lines making up a weird rectangle, and below that, there was writing.

G-6: ‘HEX’

PROPERTY OF PRECINCT 23

That same old dread settled into Magpie’s gut. Something just wasn’t right. Hex seemed oblivious to it, but somehow Magpie knew. Was she even really her little sister? Or was this just another lie from their ‘Father’?

There was one thing she was certain of, though. Little sister or not, Magpie had to protect her. They were in this situation together, and she wouldn’t let that old man hurt her like he had hurt Magpie. She swore it.

—

9 MONTHS AFTER WAKING

Magpie rolled her shoulders as she walked down the corridor, having finished her combat training for the day. Anxiety broiled in her gut for her upcoming exam tomorrow. It wasn’t that she was scared she would fail – there wasn’t even a chance of that. It was more a general excitement at the prospect of finally being allowed to go outside.

The past few months had been difficult, full of harsh training and harsher punishments, but as soon as Father gave her free access to the outside world, Magpie was gonna grab Hex and make a run for it. Their freedom from this underground hellhole was so close, she could almost taste it.

The thought of Hex made her sigh. The girl was struggling under Father’s ‘tutelage.’ She didn’t have the same distrust of him that Magpie did. She hung on his every word, followed every order to the letter, and the slightest hint of a smile from him was enough to have her practically melting. And yet, her young body just couldn’t live up to the demands being placed on her. He was being a lot gentler with her than he had been with Magpie, but she didn’t doubt it wouldn’t be long until his limited patience ran out.

Honestly, what was he expecting? Magpie was a full-grown woman of 25, but Hex was barely even a teenager! Of course she couldn’t complete all of these crazy, dangerous obstacle courses. If not for her telekinesis power allowing her to block the knives and poles being swung at her, she’d probably already be dead! Magpie herself had had way too many close calls on that course for comfort, and she could literally fly over it if she wanted.

The thought angered her, but she buried it down. Just one more day. One more day, and they could get out of here for good. 

Speaking of Hex’s training, Magpie was pretty sure it was still going on for today. She figured she might as well go and see how her little sister was going before heading back to their room.

A shrill scream and a loud crack echoed through the hallways. Magpie’s heart leapt into her throat. She started running.

He wouldn’t. Surely he wouldn’t. He’d threatened Magpie with it a few times, and only backed down on account of not wanting to damage her wings. Hex didn’t have that protection. But, still. He wouldn’t do that to her, right?

The cracking and shrieking continued, and it became clearer and clearer that, apparently, he would. Magpie was going to kill him.

The sight she saw through the window when she got to Hex’s training course didn’t betray her expectations. 

Hex, shirtless and on her knees. Father standing behind her, whip in hand. A dozen red, bleeding lines criss-crossing Hex’s back as her entire body quaked.

A rage the likes of which she’d never felt before burned in Magpie’s gut. She rushed over to the door, dismayed to find that it was locked.

Fine. It wouldn’t stop her.

She threw her fist against the metal, denting it. A grim satisfaction settled inside of her. Nothing could protect Father from her wrath now.

She punched the edge of the door over and over again, until there was enough space for her to get her fingers in between it and the frame. Ensuring that her grip was sound, she heaved, contracting every fibre of muscle in her arms and literally ripping the sliding metal door out of the wall. Inside, Hex was curled up on the floor, and Father was staring at Magpie like she was the consequences of his actions made manifest. He was scared.

Good.

With a flap of her wings, Magpie was flying towards him, ready to rip him apart. 

Her fist sunk into his side with the force of a wrecking ball, and she felt his ribs crack under her knuckles. The hit sent him flying, slamming into the far wall like a sack of bricks.

Magpie landed on her feet, planting herself between Father and Hex. He wouldn’t hurt them anymore.

Father coughed and gasped, spitting up blood as he tried and failed to get to his feet. “Wh… what… Wh-what’s the meaning of this?! How dare you raise a hand against me!”

“You stay away from us!” Magpie yelled. “Come near Hex again, and I’ll kill you!”

Father finally managed to drag himself up, clutching his side. He scowled. “You’ve always been a precocious one, Five. I see I’ve been far too gentle with you. It’s fine, you’ll learn obedience in time. Here’s your first lesson!”

He threw his hand up and Magpie screamed, suddenly overcome with an impossible pain coursing throughout her entire body, pinpointed in the back of her neck. She collapsed as her knees gave out, writhing on the ground in unknowable agony. Darkness flashed across her vision. She heaved, her body curling in on itself and forcing her lunch back out of her mouth. This was it. She was going to die. Her body couldn’t take it. Hex was going to be all alone with that monster, and there was nothing she could do.

With that one last thought, everything went black and Magpie died.

—

TWO DAYS LATER

If only she’d actually died back then. It would have been a mercy. If she’d died, she wouldn’t be stuck on her knees, with her arms wrenched and twisted behind her back, chained to the wall tight enough that she couldn’t move at all without searing pain. If she’d died, she wouldn’t have been stuck in this exact position for an unknowable amount of time, muscles burning constantly, stomach aching with hunger, thirst quenched by only the most meagre amount of water that would keep her alive, soiling herself over and over with no way to stop it. Passing out was her only consolation, but even then, she never stayed asleep for long. It was stupid of her to think she’d had it bad before. This was true hell.

Magpie closed her eyes, trying not to cry. She couldn’t afford to waste hydration like that. Her only hope was that Hex had been spared. She would put up with this forever if it meant that her little sister was safe.

The door opened, bright light spilling out from the hallway and blinding Magpie after so many hours in the dark. It was probably Father, come to torment her again. She braced herself for another verbal lashing or boot to the jaw.

“Maggie?”

If Magpie had the energy to, she would have gasped.

“H… H-Hex…? Is… Is that… you?” she rasped out.

The figure haloed in light stepped closer. Sure enough, it was Hex, her little sister, looking down at her in horror.

“Oh god, Maggie. Did… Did Father do this to you?”

“What are you doing here?” Magpie croaked, ignoring the question. “If Father finds you, he’ll hurt you again.”

“He’s not here right now. He and a bunch of the scientists left. I’m gonna save you, okay?”

The thought made a lump rise in Magpie’s throat. Her bottom lip quivered. “H- Hex…”

The young girl wasted no more time, rushing to the shackles binding Magpie’s arms and legs. They came undone all at once and she collapsed to the floor, relief flooding her tattered muscles. Magpie couldn’t help it; she started sobbing.

“It’s okay now, Maggie,” Hex said, kneeling at her side and gently massaging the base of her wings. “It’s all gonna be okay. We’re gonna get out of here tonight, just like you talked about.”

“I’m sorry… I c-couldn’t protect you… I’m so sorry, Hex.”

Hex’s voice cracked. “It- it’s alright. It’s not your fault, Maggie.”

Magpie let out a sigh, her body deflating. “I like it when you call me that. B-better than Magpie.”

“Then that’s what I’ll call you from now on, okay?”

Maggie nodded. She sniffled, summing up the energy to speak. “How much time do we have?”

“A little. The hallways are pretty empty right now, so I should be able to get us back to our room without any trouble. We’ll have a bit of time to prepare, but then we have to move. Do… Do you think you’ll be okay? Will you be able to fight?”

“I will be,” Maggie said. “No matter what, I will be. I’ll always fight for you, Hex.”

“Not alone, you won’t. I’ll fight, too. Like you said, we’re in this together. To the end.”

“To the end.”

—

Maggie laid in bed, enjoying her last few moments of rest before everything went down. Hex ended up carrying her down the hallway with telekinesis, and thankfully they didn’t run into anyone on the way. She’d had a shower – or, more accurately, Hex had showered her – gotten a change of clothes, and was now ready to fight for their freedom.

Okay, maybe ‘fight’ was a bit of an exaggeration for her current state. Shakily hobble toward their freedom, more like.

As much as she didn’t want to move at all for the next month, the promise of the outside world was invigorating, and it gave her the strength to sit up.

“Feeling okay to go?” Hex asked.

Maggie sucked in a breath to steel herself and nodded. “I don’t know if I can walk too fast on my own, but together, we should be able to make it.”

Hex nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Maggie dragged herself off of the bed and pretty much flopped over Hex, who wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her as they walked out of their room and into the halls. The pain in her shaking limbs was almost overwhelming, but with Hex’s support, she could manage. She had to.

Maybe it was the fact that it was the middle of the night, or maybe it was because of what Hex said earlier, but the corridors were practically deserted, and they met no resistance as they slowly hobbled their way to the ‘elevator’ that Father was always leaving from. Now, Maggie didn’t really know what an elevator was, but she was sure gonna try and figure it out.

“Um… what do we do now?” Hex asked once they’d stepped inside the small room.

Maggie stared at the row of buttons on the wall.

“Uh, I dunno.”

Hex shrugged and pressed the bottom one, seemingly at random. Well, it was as good a plan as they could possibly have, given the circumstances.

The doors closed, and both of them yelped as the floor started moving. Okay. This was fine. Father travelled on this every day, so Maggie wasn’t gonna let it get the best of her.

After a few seconds, the doors opened again, and the world outside had changed. Instead of bright corridors, the room on the other side was dim, lit up only by dozens of… windows? That wasn't exactly what they looked like, but it was the closest approximation Maggie could guess, considering that she could see different parts of the facility through them. There was a chair in front of the windows, with someone sitting in it. Thankfully, it looked like they were asleep.

Was this the right way? It was worth a look around, at least.

Focusing all of their stealth training, Magpie and Hex tiptoed out of the elevator, sneaking towards the door on the opposite wall. Thankfully, whoever was posted up in the chair was out cold, so they were able to reach the door and get through without the person noticing anything awry.

The room on the other side was… weird. It was just as dimly lit as the previous room, only this time the light source was the large green cylinder next to the door. The walls were lined with other cylinders, but these ones were all made of metal, whereas the glowing green one seemed to be made of glass. Inside the cylinder was a small… something. Honestly, Maggie couldn't really tell what it was. It was tiny, and vaguely person shaped, but that was where her deductions ended.

A forgotten memory suddenly flashed through her mind. She remembered this green stuff. She remembered being submerged in it, floating in the warmth.

The realisation washed over her like ice water. This was it, wasn't it? This was where she came from. There was no ‘before’ the facility. This room was where she and Hex were… created.

Her heart lurched in her chest. They… they were never actually born, just… grown in a tube. No wonder Hex looked exactly like her. Screw ‘sister,’ they were probably the same damn person. And from the looks of things, the tiny speck floating in the green was probably the next little sister to come. What the hell did Father want with them that he would go as far as to create people?!

“There was never an accident, was there?” Hex asked. “This was where we came from.”

Maggie sighed, trying not to let the idea overwhelm her. “Looks like it.”

“B-but… what does that mean for us?”

She scowled. “It means nothing. It doesn't matter where we came from, because we're here now. We exist, we're people, and we're not gonna let Father push us around anymore just because he created us.”

Hex took a shallow breath and nodded. It looked like she was about to cry, but she held it back. “Right.”

Maggie wanted to hug her, but she wasn’t sure she had the strength. Instead, she looked at the little rectangle next to the cylinder. There was writing on it.

SUBJECT G-7: ‘JORDYN’

STATUS: NORMAL

She sighed. “Good luck, Jordyn. You're gonna need it.”

“I think we went the wrong way,” Hex said. “We shouldn't stay here.”

“Agreed. Let's go.”

They turned and exited back the way they came, into the room with all the windows and the sleeping person. They were going to just cross through back into the elevator when something on one of the windows caught Maggie's eye. She stopped walking.

“What is it?” Hex whispered.

“That window has writing on it. It says our numbers.”

“So?”

“Any information could be helpful, Hex. We know literally nothing about the outside world, or honestly, ourselves. It's worth it.”

“What if the guy wakes up?”

“I'll take him out.”

Hex bit her lip, hesitating, but ultimately, she nodded. “Okay.”

The two of them silently crept over to the wall of windows, focusing on the one at the bottom. The person in the chair – who they could see now was a man – didn’t react. Sure enough, the window displayed both of the numbers Maggie and Hex had on the back of their necks. They started to read.

Subject G-5

Power already manifesting in early development stage. Subject has a pair of wings growing from her back. Whether or not they will actually allow for flight remains to be seen. Named ‘Magpie.’

(I will not allow a subject with a purely cosmetic power to waste my time. Is there any way to ensure that her wings will work? - Andreas)

(With a little bit of genetic engineering, we can give her super-dense muscles for some added strength. It’s not a guarantee, but it should help! - George)

(Do it. - Andreas)

Maggie rubbed her bicep absent-mindedly. She thought she was this strong from her own merit, but it was just Father – or ‘Andreas,’ if she had to guess which one was him – tampering with her even more. The idea made her feel sick. She kept reading.

Post-birth, everything is falling into expected parameters. Habilitation to continue.

Subject has a particularly rebellious personality, and is not very receptive to orders or Andreas’ explanation of why she is missing her memories. Programming may have failed to set in properly for whatever reason. Continuing to study.

Subject appears to have become quite attached to G-6 post introduction, and vice versa. Whether or not this is a good or bad thing for the program remains to be seen.

Subject excelling at locomotive and combat training. Subject’s aggressive personality, while difficult to control at times, is proving very effective in battle. Expected to pass exam with ease.

Subject interrupted one of G-6’s punishments, assaulting Andreas and threatening him. Her protectiveness of G-6 has proven to be a liability. No solution to this has been found as of yet. Correction chip was effective in subduing subject. Punishment to be carried out.

‘Correction chip?’ That was what knocked her out back then? Maggie shuddered. Just how much had Andreas tinkered with her and Hex’s bodies?

That was where her entry ended, and Hex’s entry began. She continued on.

Subject G-6

Subject was pulled out of formation tank early due to unexpected complications that would have otherwise resulted in her death. As a result, her body and brain were not fully formed, leaving her in a child-like state. Estimated physical age to be around 12 years old. Termination was considered, but subject displayed a strong telekinetic power that could effectively make up for her underdeveloped body. Named ‘Hex.’ Proceeding with habilitation.

(Well, this throws a wrench into things. How are we going to explain this to G-5? - George)

(Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. - Andreas)

Upon introduction, subject bonded with G-5. Cohabitation seems as though it will be successful. Continuing habilitation and beginning locomotive training soon.

Subject is struggling with locomotive training due to development issues, but seems determined to continue. Programming seems to have settled in well.

Locomotive performance has plateaued at an unsatisfying result. Punishments to ensue if the subject shows no more progress.

That was the end of Hex’s notes. The last one made Maggie want to punch the window, but she held herself back. What kind of a monster would resort to… to doing what Maggie had witnessed, just because a child wasn’t doing good enough?!

“Maggie, your wings!” Hex whisper-yelled.

“Ngh?”

It was too late. In Maggie’s anger, she’d failed to notice that her wings had puffed up, getting ready to extend so she could fly. In doing so, they’d bumped into the guy in the chair and woke him up. The two stared at each other.

He started scrambling. “H-Hey! What-”

Hex’s eyes widened, and the man was suddenly flung across the room, slamming into the far wall hard enough for Maggie to hear an audible crack. For a second, she thought he might have died, but he was still squirming around. She could use this.

Maggie let go of Hex and limped over to the man, gingerly kneeling down and grabbing him by the lapels. 

“Wh-what…? M… Magpie?”

“How do we get out of here?” she demanded. “Tell me, or I’m gonna start breaking things.”

“I… I don’t… what?”

From the look of it, he probably had a pretty bad concussion. Maggie sighed and tried again, speaking slower.

“How. Do. We. Get. Out. Of. Here?”

It finally seemed to click for the guy. About a hundred different emotions flickered across his face; most of them some variation of fear.

“Y-you… You can’t.”

Maggie snarled. “Why not?!”

“Th-they’ll find you. No matter where you go. They’ll track your chips and bring you back.”

“Chips? Like the correction chip?”

His eyes widened. “How do you…”

Maggie remembered when Andreas used it on her. She remembered exactly where the pain came from; where it was the most intense. “They’re in the backs of our necks, aren’t they?”

The man glanced from side to side, like he was trying to come up with a lie. “I…”

Whatever. That was good enough. They could figure out the elevator on their own. Maggie finished the guy off with the strongest jab to the face she could muster in her weakened state.

“What do we do now?” Hex asked as Maggie limped back over.

“We’ve got to get these chips out. They’re in the backs of our necks. If we don’t get rid of them, Andreas will be able to find us no matter how far we run.”

Hex grimaced. “This is gonna hurt, isn’t it?”

“Yep. But that’s what we’ve trained for.”

—

With the help of a first aid kit and a shard of glass from a broken cup, Maggie and Hex cut the back of each other’s necks open, and managed to fish out the horrible chip. There was a lot of whimpering, crying, and shouting involved, but they got through it in the end, stitching each other up just as they were trained for. Maggie felt sick having to hurt Hex like that, but it was the only way for them to truly be safe from Andreas once they got out. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to ensure that man never got his hands on them ever again.

Maggie wiped her eyes and sighed, trying to ignore the stinging pain in the back of her neck. “Are you ready to go?”

Hex nodded, her bottom lip still quivering. “Yeah.”

They stumbled over to the elevator, holding onto each other for support. Maggie eyed the buttons on the wall wearily. Nothing to it but luck, she supposed. She pressed the one at the top and the elevator started moving again.

“We’ve got this,” she whispered in Hex’s ear. “We’re gonna be okay. No one’s gonna lay a finger on us anymore.”

Hex’s nose crinkled, but a smile played at her lips. “Your breath smells bad.”

Maggie snorted out a laugh. “Gimme a break. I haven’t brushed my teeth in two days. You’re just lucky we had time for me to shower, or I’d probably still reek of urine.”

Hex chuckled. “Yeah. I didn’t wanna say anything when I found you, but wow, you didn’t smell good.”

“Aren’t I lucky to have such a caring little sister.” Maggie grinned.

The elevator reached its destination and the doors opened, revealing a room neither of them had ever seen before. It was wide and open, with a carpeted floor and several chairs sitting against the walls. Maggie couldn’t ascertain what its purpose was. On the far end of the room from the elevator, the wall was made entirely of glass, and a dim, cool light was drifting in from the other side. There was a door in the glass. It called to her; an odd tug in her gut urging her towards it. Somehow she knew; this was the way to the outside world. They were free.

She charged forward, filled with renewed strength, and slammed the door open. Cold air slammed into them right back.

There was a man in her way. His eyes widened at the sight of her face, then he looked to Hex and they widened even further. He wasn’t one of the familiar faces from the facility. This guy was just… a regular person. Huh.

Maggie wrapped her arms around Hex, flapped her wings, and finally took proper flight for the first time in her life. Cold wind rushed in her hair and through her feathers. Hex shrieked in delight from the thrill. The world stretched out below her and the sky opened up above her, little pinpricks of light twinkling in her eyes as freedom filled her lungs. She wouldn’t trade it for the world.

—

ONE WEEK LATER

If there was one thing Maggie had learned about the outside world in the brief week since they’d escaped, it was that the outside world was nothing like what she and Hex were used to. There were no more steadily provided meals, no convenient clothing that was always cleaned when they needed it, no directions or schedule or order. It was just her and her little sister against the world.

Hex’s stomach rumbled loud enough for Maggie to hear it. Maggie clenched her fists against the guilt that washed over her. She was supposed to be taking care of her, but she was failing miserably. She could barely even take care of herself. Hex was being so good about it, not complaining, always staying strong, but they couldn’t keep going like this. They were losing weight. Every night they almost froze to death, huddled up together wherever they could find even a modicum of shelter. What little food they could find was few and far between; pitiful scraps scavenged from bins or off the floor. Maggie had broken into a building to get them some new clothes the night they escaped, but it wasn’t going to last. She just had no idea how the outside world worked, frankly. Not for the first time, she wondered if escaping was a bad idea after all. 

Not everything was hopeless, though. Maggie had an idea that might help them get a little bit more to eat. She’d been doing her best to study up on what life was like out here; watching people from the shadows, reading whatever ‘newspapers’ she could get her hands on, and she reckoned she might have stumbled onto something promising.

A little ways away from their little hideout, there was a big plot of empty land, and every day, a bunch of guys would show up and start putting something together. A new building, if she had to guess. The way Maggie figured, if she could help the guys out a little bit, they might be inclined to help her out, too. A proper meal, some new clothes, maybe even a comfortable place to rest their heads. It was worth a shot, at least.

So, one day, Maggie and Hex donned their sunglasses – the best way they could figure to hide their identities, lest Andreas hear something and come looking – and made their way over to the yard.

The men were hard at work when they got there, each buried in their own task. Maggie walked up and, summing all of her courage, called out to them.

“Uh, e- excuse me!”

A few of the men stopped what they were doing and looked their way, before glancing to one man in particular. He stood up from where he was crouched near a steadily growing brick wall and raised a hand to the others. They got back to work, and the man walked over to the two of them.

“Hi, can I help you?” he asked, taking off his own sunglasses and wiping the sweat from under the weird hat he and the rest of them were wearing. His tan skin was speckled with pockmarks, and a dark, full stubble had taken up most of his jaw. He was quite handsome, actually. Maggie’s stomach fluttered a little as he looked her up and down, glancing at her wings, though that also could have been from hunger.

“Yes, u-um, actually, I was wondering if I could help you.” Maggie clenched her fists, letting out an awkward laugh. This felt weird. “I, uh, I’m pretty strong. I could lift some things, i-if you need. Hex here has telekinesis, too, so… Um, she could also help.”

The man frowned. “You want… a job?”

Maggie didn’t know what that word meant, but she nodded. “If that’s what it takes to get some food, then yes.”

There was a pause as the man analysed her. “You guys are in some trouble, aren’t you?”

“Please,” Hex suddenly blurted out. “We’re… we’re just hungry. If there’s anything we can do to earn some food, please. Let us help.”

The man bit his lip, glancing to the side. After a few seconds, he looked back at Maggie. “Alright, I’ll tell you what. I can’t let you guys work on the site for… well, for obvious reasons, but if you come with me, I can get you two something to eat, and we can sit down and talk this through. The company I work for is owned by the Heroes’ Union, so we should be able to work something out and get you guys some help. Sound good?”

Half of that meant literally nothing to Maggie, but at this point, she would take anything. She nodded.

“Alright,” the man said, holding out his hand. “The name’s Diego, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

—

Back in the present, Maggie smiled at the memory of her and Diego’s first meeting as she pulled her shirt back on and struggled to get her wings through the holes. It had been almost two years since then, and Maggie felt lucky for that chance encounter every single day.

Diego had taken them back to this very apartment, gave them their first warm meal in over a week, let them shower, gave them a change of clothes and heard them out; every last detail of their fucked-up story. At the time, Maggie hadn’t known how much to omit, so she just told him everything. If he’d been anyone else, that could have ended terribly for them, but thankfully, they’d run into one of the few genuinely good people in this city. He was the only one that knew the whole truth; that Maggie and Hex were nothing more than unwilling body doubles for a woman that died five years ago; that Andreas de Vygon was playing God below the precinct, creating life and forcing it to do his bidding; that Seven wasn’t just a superhero working for the police, but the next body double down the line. As far as any of his bosses knew, Diego had just taken in some powered people in need of help, and provided him the resources to do so. If not for his generosity, Maggie was sure she and Hex would have died on the streets, clueless and alone.

Not wanting to be a burden, Maggie once again begged Diego to let her work at the construction site, and finally, he acquiesced, promising to teach her how things worked. These days, it was what she spent most of her time doing, saving the company money by using her wings to do the high-up work that anyone else would need safety equipment for. It was hard work for sure, but it was rewarding, knowing that she was helping earn to support herself and her sister.

It was about a year after they started living together that this… thing that had been dancing between them finally caught alight. Maggie’d had time to learn about the world, about people, about relationships and how things worked. She’d seen them on TV, read about them in books, figured out how to determine the good from the bad by scouring the internet, and finally, made her move on Diego. They’d been sharing a few drinks after Hex went to bed, watching a movie together on the couch, and Maggie just went for it, grabbing his face and kissing him then and there when the moment presented itself.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe she was just pent up from literally never receiving sexual touch from another person in her life, but things progressed very quickly from there and they took it straight to the bedroom. Safe to say, it was a night she would never forget.

They had a proper conversation about it the morning after, where Diego admitted that he’d felt the same way for a while, but wasn’t comfortable making a move considering that, for a lot of their relationship up to that point, Maggie was entirely dependent on him, and considering how little she knew about… anything, the dynamic would have been a little weird. But now that she’d started working, now that she had her own money and a half-decent understanding of the world, and now that he knew she was actually super interested in him, too, he figured they could give this thing a shot. And the rest was history.

Jordyn’s appearance on the streets had scared her. She knew it was only a matter of time before she came after their fragile peace, smashing through their glass walls and leaving Maggie and Hex nothing more than a bad memory in Andreas’ mind, splattered across Diego’s floor. That tiny speck that once floated in the green had grown into a monster, and Maggie had no choice but to get ahead of it.

To that end, and much to Diego’s protest, Maggie had gone hunting. What she needed was equipment. Weaponry that could stand up to a killer of Maggie’s own calibre. Sure, Maggie’d had more time to build her muscles, and she was undoubtedly one of the strongest people alive already, thanks to Andreas’ tinkering, but Jordyn had the backing of the entire police force behind her. Maggie needed to be smart.

So, she slaughtered two SWAT officers and stole their guns. Then she used that sniper rifle to shoot Jordyn down. Only, she underestimated the strength of her armour, and only succeeded in pissing Andreas off. For a month, she laid low, hiding out in the apartment and waiting for things to cool off. And once they did, she tried again.

Jordyn was no pushover, though, and gave her a real run for her money. Maggie got her down though. Got her down, and was seconds away from pulling the trigger and ending it, when that pathetic, terrified look on her face made Maggie freeze. 

Did she make the right choice in letting her little sister live? Who could say. The only thing to do was move forward, and take every day as it came. Maggie and Hex were alive, and they were free, and that was the only thing that truly mattered.

“Maggie?”

“Hm?” She blinked, returning to her body. Hex had been calling to her. “What’s up?”

“We were trying to ask what you wanted from McDonalds. Get lost in your head again?”

Maggie smiled. “Yeah. Thinkin’ about stuff.”

“Well, you’d better hurry up and order, birdie, or I’ll get you a 20 pack of chicken nuggets again,” Diego joked.

Maggie let out a mock gasp. “You wouldn’t dare! Making me eat my own kin; shame on you!”

Diego laughed, and Maggie basked in the sound. It was times like these that it felt like everything would turn out alright after all.

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry

@iamheretohurt @anoyedartist @dontyoubleedoutonme @seastarblue @lettherebepain

@bacillusinfection

wahoo bird lady backstory!!!

i do really love maggie as a character, but in truth, she doesn't actually get all that much screentime in the current outline of the plot. granted, that outline is in the literal haziest terms imaginable, so that's open to change lol. or maybe i'll write a maggie spinoff once this is done

only 2 more chapters until the end of this arc! next up, we reconvene with Steve and see the results of his little investigation hehehehehehehehehehehehehehe (evil but cute laugh)

thanks for reading! let me know what you thought in a comment or reblog! It's v appreciated :> Ciao!

[littlebitshylittlebitangry]

Hi, hi it’s me again… your writing was very good, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Now you must be responsible for the consequences…. Which is listening to me ramble. 

Anyways, first off small doodle!

This is what I imagine bound arcane egg looks like, and something I didn't explain, my b. Is when arcane egg gets taken to be the “heart” of the hungry ones, it’s basically an in between plane of existence. It’s between the normal world and where the hungry ones reside.

Secondly this is one of two times arcane egg goes to this inbetween, and that second time is more triumphant and it’s where her light of defiance reignites!

Anyways no more exposition, time to talk about some new stuff mainly the aftermath after arcane eggs desperate pleas for death!

Note I do imagine her pleas at that moment go from sad and desperate to manic and desperate, since at this point of the story it’s a nice contrast to how well and collected they’ve appeared so far.

But yeah when they wake up… boi it’s so sad. When they awake their very comatose and quite, very similar to how they were when they came back to life after their death by the hungry ones. I imagine that shadow milk and golden butter are waiting her them to wake up, which arcane egg can’t fathom why but, what ever. 

If you haven’t noticed arcane eggs response to their own emotions and emotional problems is to ignore, belittle, or don’t think about it. Which is in sharp contrast on who they USED to be, which was open and tbh the therapist / listener friend. But also they were honest about their feelings, so arcane egg after that display of pure raw emotion acting so… empty greatly upsets her friends.

They’ll try to get an answer but they’ll just get a chill and numb cookie in response, I do imagine they get her to talk at some point after pleading and asking persistently for a while. And it would most likely begin with arcane egg breaking down sobbing and they’ll also shake like a leaf.

Than afterwards if the two ask questions and prod for specifics, she start answering and probably tell the, how she got to this point / her history thus far. She’ll tell them that they’ve died before, that their now both alive but technically an undead thing,… that they thought about taking their own life during the dark flour war.

They wont tell about their complicated feelings about the two of them yet, no not yet. But she will spill how she feels about themselves which is again bad!

How would the two react, o honest don’t know I’ll need to think about it more. Do you have any ideas? You did a good job last time so. Anyways thanks for listening have a good day :D.

(Also tell me if you want me to post ideas to you here or on your side blog!)

Took me awhile to get back to this post-

Anyways, had to do some searching (thanks for the notes.) Ended up being four pages long-

Honestly for some reason this gives me ‘nowhere king’ vibes.

Now, Warnings; implied masscure, war crimes, sucidial thoughts, dissacation.

She blinks awake- her body is heavy and it's hard to move. She feels a hand carding through her hair, for a moment she struggles to move her head, but she does. She mentally feels the want for her shoulders to tense up- but they don’t. Yet Mystic Flour doesn’t stop carding her hands through her hair. For a minute they could almost swear her eyes opened, but she didn't say a word. Carefully moving their head around, she blinks yet again.

The room wasn’t overly big by any means, but it was a decent size. Arcane could spot Silent salt staring out the window, Burning spice was oddly calm as he rubbed his axe. Shifting her focus to the other half- she found Eternal sugar half sitting on a chair, half resting her head in her arms on the bed. Its then she spotted by a table that looked like it was dragged over that Shadow Milk was writing something onto the desk- he looked oddly frustrated. It was… It was an old memory. He’d often be over desks like that when he hit a wall with whatever he was researching or when he was lacking the creativity on his newest project. 

For a moment she puzzled over where Golden Butter was, until the door opened. The very person who they thought about walked in with a bag over to Shadow Milk, They closed their eyes as they felt Golden Butters gaze on them. The other sighs, “...Shadow… how is progress?” Shadow Milk seems to growl, “It's honestly worse than I thought! Those Damn witches that sealed us are the reason those fucking thing even exist! And that means they are the main issue on why Arcane is like this!” They can hear a fist slam onto the table, its silent for a moment, before Silent salts' rarely heard voice comes through, “....The witches did this? To her?” They don’t know what Shadow does but they hear the screeching of the chair and his words, “YES! They did! They fucked up Arcane so badly that I’m not even completely sure there is a way to undo it!” 

Mystic Flours hand pauses, she hears the other speaks, “.... Shadow Milk….are you… are you sure?” They don’t exactly hear much other then shuffling for the next few moments before an audible sigh, “..I can’t be completely sure at least now.” His tone turns resigned, slightly saddened with a hint of frustration, “If only I had my labs, the tower and…” Her heart drops, she knows just who he was going to say.

Fortune Cookie, his closest pupil. 

Fortune Cookie had a bright future ahead of them. At Least until Shadow Milk destroyed his own tower. It was of very little doubt that Fortune cookie was a casualty in that event. Fortune Cookie, she thinks, had a brain even Shadow Milk sometimes struggled with. ‘Boundless creativity filled with sky high genius’ Shadow Milk once put it as. Fortune Cookie who he likely killed. 

This hadn’t been the first time he’d regretted it.

She allows her eyes to open, everyone is still in the room just different. Eternal sugar, for once, is awake, and is blankly staring at them, Silent Salt has moved away from his window position, Burning spice had set his axe down and was gripping onto his hair with a fierce look on his face. She couldn’t see Mystic Flour from this view, but she could see Shadow Milk back as Golden Butter looked over him.

He was half hunched over and he was shaking. 

Part of them wanted to reassure him it would all work out, but wasn’t that hopeless? 

There wasn’t a cure and one person who had the most research on the hungry ones is dead, anything she did note was likely destroyed. It was hopeless. 

It threw everyone off the moment they spoke, “It's been a hopeless situation from the start. It would do you all better to just kill me now.” The air in the room became strained just at her words. Shadow Milk straightens up, brushes off Golden Butters Hand and immediately turns around and walks over very calmly. He pushes his hands on the side of the bed and looks directly at her, “We won’t, we’ll find a cure. There isn’t another option.” 

She blinks at him, “..You just said it yourself...you don’t know if there is a way to undo it… There isn’t a cure coming.” She shakes her head, “It would be the best choice- the hungry ones would be gone.” Shadow Milk shakes- not in a silent fear or overwhelming sorrow, but in a very poorly suppressed rage. “It doesn’t matter what I just said, I will find a cure.” 

Arcane egg stares at him as she speaks, “....Fortune cookie was the only one who had-” He slams his hands on the bed as he shouts, “I���ll bring back the fucking dead if I have to! I’ll face whatever goddamn consequences that come my way!” He sags, “I’ll face Fortune cookie if it means I can help you.” He looks resigned, “I’ll search every single book the witches saved, I’ll tear down kingdom after kingdom and build them back up, If I need to I’ll start a new a tower just to figure out a fucking cure, I’ll let that stupid half-a-cookie replacement of mine keep my damn soul Jam!” The rage slowly wears off, replaced by desperation, “Please- just don’t- never ask me- never ask any of us- I don’t think.” Tears well and fall off his face like the sword of damocles falling, “I don’t think we could take it.”

Something in them hurts, so very deeply hurts in a twisted sense that its like having a vine shoved right into your heart before twisting and growing. Something grabs their left hand, looking over Silent Salt, it seemed he was the one who grabbed it. Burning spice had dragged a chair over and was sitting with the backside facing her as he sat facing her. Eternal Sugar has shifted from her place and is now sitting at the edge of the bed as Shadow Milk and Golden Butter stick to her right. She can spot Mystic Flours dress off the side- likely sitting by the pillows on their left side. 

They had all moved to gather closer than previously. The next words flowed out her to easily as she looked at them. She- she doesn’t know what to think.

(She lost count after thousands of years, after watching hundreds of cookies crumble from age. Yet things linger in her memories.)

(Afterall the hungry ones have been with her for almost the same amount-- and it hurts holding them- it hurts in a sense that she can’t quite let go.)

(Everyone left in one way or another and she was left behind, Fortune died, her friends left her behind- and even when she grew close to people they disappeared. She doesn’t have anything- her friends are here now, yes. But they left so long ago- they told her not to come looking for them and-)

(- and they fell.)

Everything- Just feels so overwhelming. This isn’t the first time- something just- they feel so wrong today. They woken up for days with the group here for a number of days- some of them are normally out.

(Burning spice came back once with strawberry jam covering him, Mystic flour and Eternal Sugar just stared him down until he left. They don’t remember much of the few days after that- their head was just buzzing. She noticed the more… careful and hesitant natures when they wake up. All weapons, she noted, were always kept out of sight most times. No one ever came in the room without knocking unless they were ‘cleaned’ as Mystic Flour put it.)

Part of them just- there wasn’t an exact way to put it into words. 

(“We have been silent for so long, haven’t we?”)

(“How long must you remain to let your defiance be stamped out?”)

(“Listen to me- to yourself. Defy this fate- fight against it, do not let yourself fall.”)

(“Please- just fight off for a little more. To defy in this moment, allow yourself to be helped.”)

Its quite- a mere echo in her head- but something. Something in her breaks. 

Tears, she notes almost mutely, she’s crying. 

Someone- she's guessing Mystic Flour sits her up as Shadow Milk crawls his way onto the bed by her sides. Golden Butter sticks to the side but sits on the bed as the rest stay close. She lets it spill out.

She talks about the isolation that happened after Golden Butters sleep, she speaks of the horrors of the experiments of the witches and the hungry ones who were sealed inside her- the war she fought to save cookies who either died or forgot about her actions, she brings up letters she sent- only to learn they never received a single one of hers. She whispers of the dark flour war, the endless death, the chaos that reigned and even traced over scars left from those dark years. Of the violence that she faced in the line of cruelty of Dark Enchantress Cookie. 

The room is silent for the longest period, and then she admits the most damning thing.

She admits her death- and coming back different.

The silence is different, its stiff, its twisted and she can see something is off. Shadow Milk is the one who prodes her further with his face towards the ground. She tells the rest what they wanted to hear, she admits everything slowly hesitantly, as tears fall down, as she cries, screams, and breaks down. There are several times someone in the group leaves for a few minutes before coming back in- but Shadow Milk stays the entire time, just staying by her side. 

Somehow, she ends up asleep as the rest of the group lingers within the world. 

Shadow Milk is frowning as he takes Mystic Flours combing through Arcane Eggs hair, Golden Butter stays by his side as the rest of the group lingers around. Golden slowly speaks, “..I should’ve focused on her- I was so- I was so caught up in my own misery that I…” Golden Butter looks down. Shadow Milk sighs, laying a head on her shoulder. Its silent before he speaks, “We’ve been dealt a shitty hand- just-” He looks frustrated before looking at Arcane egg and his face softens in sad way, “...We just been playthings for the witches- they’ve- They’ve been treating us like that for so long.. I just-” Burning Spice speaks up, “They will pay.”

His words are followed by nods as Shadow Milk echos his friends words, “They will pay.” He pets Arcanes Hair, “But not now. For now, we tend to our wounds and we focus on finding a cure.” Its an unsaid agreemnt by the others.

Right now, tending in their own in the focus.

Vengeance upon The witches, Dark Enchantress cookie and any other cookie else can wait until they’ve recovered.

Then, all cards were off.

[luvoverdose]

NEW YEAR’S DAY

pairing : single!matt x reader

summary : after a few months of talking matt had decided to come and visit you in new york. you and matt had gone to a mutual friends new year’s eve party together, him never leaving your side. will there be a certain question to pop, or will you two just become strangers?

warnings : fluff?

‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿

“Let’s get you to sleep ya.” I told my drunken best friend helping her into bed.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Ashtin.” I tucked her in, soon taking pain killers and placing them on her nightstand along with a glass of water.

Going back into the living room I saw a brunette boy who I had been with all night, looking over the room.

“There’s so much fucking glitter on the floor!.” I exclaimed once everyone left your bestfriend apartment.

“Look it’s literally penis confetti.” Matt giggled picking one up.

I looked out the large window to see all the party guests leaving, most girls carrying their heels in hand.

“How the f do you get candle wax off a hardwood floor.” Matt scratched his head and he leaned on the wall.

I sighed and traveled over to where he stood, but my gaze was set on a polaroid rather than the dried up substance he was looking at.

A smile made its way to my lips while I picked up the photo, it being of me and Matt.

“Look at this photo of us from last night.” I turned the picture to the side so he could get a peak.

“It’s literally still night it’s 12:30.”

“Technically it’s morning.” I sent him a cheesy smile, him currently towering over my figure.

“You’re such a nerd.” He smiled at me, tucking a hair behind my ear.

“Let’s not get to caught up here, we still have hundreds of bottles to clean up on this fine New Year’s Day.”

I pulled away from his grasp before I started to pick up empty champagne bottles all over my friend’s apartment, Matt helping me.

After an hour later Ashtin’s apartment was back into tip top shape. A tired Matt engulfed me from behind, his arms wrapping around my shoulders.

“I called a taxi it should be here any minute.” He whispered into my ear causing shivers to flow down my spine.

I gave him a small nod before collecting my belongings and locking up Ashtin’s apartment.

“You’re a really nice friend you know, I don’t know anyone who would stay an extra hour to clean up a mess they didn’t make, in some else’s house.” Matt told me, opening up the taxi door when we got downstairs.

“She’s done so much for me, I gotta repay her somehow. I mean she’s the reason I met you.” I looked over at him and saw a pink hue covering his cheeks.

He took my smaller hand in his and squeezed it three times as we sat in the back of the taxi.

I knew from then on this road that we’re gonna go on is gonna be a lot longer than we thought.

A few minutes later we arrived at my apartment, also where Matt had been staying during his time here in New York. The bright lights shining down in on us as we stood outside the lobby, chatter happening all around us.

“Matt, I really like you and I know long distance can be hard but I have a feeling we can make it work.” I explained to him through chattered lips.

“Y/N I don’t know if I will work out, long distance is tough and there’s always that what if. And you’ll always be busy with school and I have work-“

I cut him off while grabbing his cheeks in between my somehow warm cheeks.

“You can’t read ahead, I want to be there for you through up’s and down’s, when it’s hard, or it’s wrong even when we’re making mistakes. Please don’t turn away from me and become a stranger.” I expressed my feelings to him, the pad of my thumbs rubbing his cheeks.

He engulfed me in a warm hug, his arms tanging around my waist.

“For you I’ll make it work, I’ll continue to hold onto our memories together exactly how I hold onto you.”

‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿

i LOVE how this turned out. it does follow the lyrics of new year’s day if you pay attention

anywho i hope you like thisss

[caramel1mochi]

ぐちゃ ! (Splat!) [Yoru x F! Reader] [4]

Heya everyone!

Just a quick note; if you spot a random 'You' halfway through a sentence, it's supposed to be 'Yoru' but it keeps getting autocorrected and it doesn't stop NO MATTER WHAT SETTINGS I CHANGE.

Anyway, that's it, have a good one!

❤ฺ·。

Yoru x F! Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 4.5 / Part 5 / Part 6

Genre: Fluff, a tiny amount of angst. Very tiny. Trust me.

Synopsis: Hapless doesn't even begin to describe you. With your life flipped upside down within the span of a day; you're left to rely on your best friend Tala to help you pick up the pieces and build the new one forced upon you. And this 'luck' seems to have caught the attention of one of her friends.

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

At first, you thought Neon was being dramatic when she talked about how the contingency of you having your own room was a terrible one. You had to have your own private space after all, right? You were a bloody adult.

Unfortunately, having your own space also meant that you were free to cuss and rant in Tagalog all you wanted while throwing your belongings around in a skewed sense of ‘organising’, or whatever ran through your mind at the time.

And that’s exactly what you’ve been doing since you escaped Omen’s sight.

Who the hell did Yoru think he was? That’s the question that you kept asking yourself, furiously grabbing your blanket and airing it. You knew his type. The ones who think they’re entitled just because they helped you a few times? And even then, you didn’t ask for his help! He offered it! So why was he getting on his high horse?

Gah, it was all just so moronic, you thought as you set the blanket down and folded it to properly fit the small bed.

You didn’t notice that, over the course of the past few minutes; your voice increased in volume and so did the loud thuds as you threw your items around. Which is the reason why two knocks on the door interrupted your incessant fury.

With a barely audible screech, the metal door slid open to reveal, thankfully, a familiar face.

“Oh, hey Neon.”

“Hoy, what’s going on here?”

You sighed and walked off to your vanity desk, organising the magazines you tossed.

“You heard that, huh?”

Neon laughed, already stepping in and running her fingers through the painting you had hung up. Delicately, so as to not ruin it, though. You were already pissed enough and god knows that she could tell.

“You don’t know how thick the walls are here, huh, Y/N–” she shook her head, “sorry, A/N.”

Just as you met her gaze with a smile, you were quickly pulled into a hug. So quick, the tufts of your hair barely even had time to settle as she tightly wrapped her arms around you.

“By the way, welcome to the team! I’m so happy you’re finally with us!”

“I’ve been here for a week, dummy.”

Despite your sarcastic remark, you felt all of your anger melt away in an instant, promptly hugging her back.

God, she was just the cutest.

“I just thought I’d give you the welcoming nobody else was going to!”

Nobody else, huh? That phrasing reminded you of a certain someone. Neon quickly pulled away. And immediately, just looking at her incredibly amicable round eyes stomped out any lingering hint of wrath you felt. And you couldn’t help but grin at this sight.

“Neon, seriously, what’s going on? Did everyone leave and you just have nobody to talk to?”

“Well, yeah, but since we have free time, we get to do something!”

…

Wait, she wasn’t joking?

“They’re actually gone?”

“Technically, they’re in a meeting right now. We’re just not a part of it.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. How come there wasn’t even an announcement? At least some chatter from the others as they made their way there? Is that why it was quiet enough for Omen to have heard you and Yoru arguing?

“There’s a meeting right now?”

“If you don’t know about it, then it means that you’re not gonna be in whatever they’re doing. Wanna go see?”

Before you could even open your mouth to answer, you were already pulled to the empty hallways and forced to march down with her, her grip on your left wrist as hard as it always is. But this time, after all the training and the way Harbour would slap your back as a way to express his joy, safe to say that you were definitely used to it.

On another note, your shoulder blade definitely had a crack in it somewhere.

“Wait, wait, where are we going?”

“To check out the meeting room! I don’t think you’ve ever been there, yet!”

With how silent the hallways were, you could hear your very steps echoing. And it made sense after what she told you.

However, this silence would allow you to listen in on a very distant yet muffled voice in just a few seconds. And with how harsh the tone was, its recognisable pitch, you could tell it was Viper before you could even make out one word.

The closer you got to the meeting room, the more audible her voice was. And just like that, you both found yourselves moving towards a wide open door, the only source of light coming from the centre of the table, projecting something to them as Viper explained whatever.

Both of you took a peek inside to see what the fuss was about. But it was hard for you to get a look at the model of the building they were examining, seemingly surrounded by a body of water. Not when everyone sat in a circle around said table. You began glancing at many agents you both recognised and didn't recognise.

There was Phoenix, Jett, Gekko, Skye, and…

Yoru.

“Ugh.”

“What?”

You cleared your throat, forcing a smile, but not without questioning how Viper tolerated such a man’s presence, not when he sat like he owned the place. Slouched on the chair, arms crossed, completely uninterested.

“I mean– is it, uh, is it usually this dark?”

“Not really. Whenever it’s dark like this, it means something serious is going on. Me and Sage actually made a little rhyme for it whenever we’d see Viper or Brim mess around with the light switch!” 

As she went on her little tangent, your eyes bore into the back of Yoru’s head with unrelenting anger. God, he just looked so punchable.

“It goes like this; if there’s light, then the workload’s light! If it’s dark, then you better get ready for some dark stuff! It’s not creative, but we were making up songs while we were surrounded by a bunch of rocks and had to wait for a rescue.”

Only after you observed the way his hair moved upwards did you realise that Harbour sat amongst them. Uh oh. He was in on this mission, too? That means you won’t be able to talk about this bomb thing you discovered until he gets back, right?

“A/N?”

“Yeah– I was, uh, I was just listening to what Viper was saying. Freaky stuff.”

“I know! I wouldn’t want to be Yoru right now, but he says he’s used to scouring things near the deep ocean.”

You scoffed.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever he says. So, what’re we doing until they’re back?”

You met her gaze. And of course, she beamed with a smile, her brown eyes glimmering under the harsh lights above you.

“So, A/N, since we both have free time and money, you wanna go do what I’m thinking we should do?”

…

“Uh, I don’t think I should be wasting–”

“Hoy, don’t be such a wuss! We’ll finally get to buy you that makeup you always wanted!”

Though you perked up at this, it quickly died down once you had another reason not to do this.

“No way, what if we–”

“We have time, money, freedom, and no rent to pay. You’re out of excuses and coming with me.”

Before you could retort, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you down the hallway once more. And, of course, with her contagious joy, you couldn’t help but also share her excitement for this trip.

It’s been a while since you had the freedom to dress the way you wanted. Wait, scratch that, you never really had said freedom unless you slept over at Neon’s house as a teen... Huh, maybe she was right. With how everyone else around here dresses, what’s the harm if you decided to wear fishnet stockings, right?

❤ฺ·。

Most of the agents left the meeting room excited, chatting with each other about the plans they'd set and what they're going to do. Mostly, however, about the unique location of the base. Even Harbour was excited, even though he had every right to be since it was in the middle of the ocean.

However, surprisingly enough, Phoenix wasn't one of them, following Yoru with an incredibly sour expression. Unable to read the room, he didn't realise the Japanese wanted to be left alone.

"Nah man, there's no way Viper took me out of the mission so quickly! I got cheated!"

"Phoenix. It's a base surrounded by water."

"And?"

"And the section we need to get into is submerged in water."

"So what?! Fire can still be useful!"

Yoru stared at him with a blank expression, before walking away. And Phoenix immediately followed. As per usual, with a preposterous counter-argument ready. If he could, Phoenix would burn an injured person if it meant he’d somehow be able to heal them.

"Wait wait, hear me out, I heard from somewhere that if you put fire on ice, it burns instead of melting 'cause of some chemical jargon. What if, by some force of nature, the same thing happens to the water?"

"You'd just be boiling it, idiot."

"Oh, come on. You're making it sound so useless!"

Yoru stopped and met Phoenix's gaze, both of his hands in his pockets.

"Why don't you go check if Neon has something planned?"

There was a reason she, Sage and Jett always had those outings, she was the mastermind behind all of them.

"Nah, no chance, fam. I saw her and A/N leave before the meeting was over, she's gone gone."

Already? Yoru thought, before shaking his head and both of them continuing down their path.

"Then go shoot some bots, or something. I have stuff to do."

"No way! After the shouting match I heard there, I ain't touching that spot until tomorrow."

"Tch, what? Shouting match?"

"Yeah, fam. Shouting match. Omen and I were chilling in the lobby and we heard shouting from there. Dunno what was up, but..."

Phoenix then remembered a key detail. Didn't Yoru tell him earlier that he would be training, and that's why he was unavailable most of the day? Then that meant… He chuckled to himself.

"Wait, was that you? Mate, how feminine does your voice get when you’re mad?"

"Did you just compare my voice to A/N's?"

"Wait, that was A/N? Why was she yelling?! Nah, there's no way you started an argument with her! Weren’t you just getting along?"

Disinterested in the conversation, Yoru took out his butterfly knife and began flipping it, its clacking sticking out against the moderate silence around them. Getting along is a stretch, he thought.

"Put down the tinfoil hat, Phoenix. There wasn't an argument. I just told her what was on my mind."

"Mate, what's on your mind can make the bloody president resign! Remember when you obliterated Sage for a small mistake?! I swear I saw her cry!"

"For the last time, she was sweating. And what's wrong with telling her to quit being passive?"

"That's not harsh?"

"She agreed with me, idiot."

"Look, I get what you mean, but I still think you should be nicer with your words, you feel me? A/N's kinda sensitive, unlike me."

Yoru immediately stifled a chuckle and cleared his throat.

“I’m already nice in one way. I’m not slathering my words in honey.”

“Mate, you’re hopeless.”

And with that, Yoru had no further retorts or desire to continue such a fatuous conversation.

But just because he shut himself up doesn't mean he didn't have ammunition upon ammunition of counter-arguments. And the most important among all of them; this was Valorant, not some daycare. People here should be used to harsh words. Thankfully, he was one of them, which is why he was unconcerned when you snapped back at him.

Nevertheless, he took a turn and walked down the hallway, their shared path dividing into two.

"Whatever. I'll see you after the mission, Phoenix."

Phoenix stared at him walk down the corridor, crossing his arms. And as per usual, despite his concerns, Yoru absolutely did not give a damn. It was evident just in the way he’d walk.

Maybe Phoenix should apologise for you, or fully scold him when he gets the full story.

❤ฺ·。

For the first time in a while, the fresh air of the outside world freely filled your lungs like mystical fairies sparkling some dust of serenity in you. And though it matched the one on the island you’d frequent for training, this one was different. This air was littered with a sense of peace.

You had been out shopping for the past few hours, with nothing to worry about. Not money, not anyone, nothing, other than keeping an eye on Neon so that she doesn’t stray too far away and leave you alone. It was a record for you to go so long without stressing about anything, at this point.

“You know, now that I think about it, that bracelet kinda adds to your look, doesn’t it?”

You held up your arm and lifted the long sleeve up in confusion, staring at it in the mirror. Of course, angling yourself in such a way so that the other customers couldn’t see what was going on. And you could definitely understand what she meant.

“Oh, yeah, it does.”

She stepped up behind you, both of her hands behind her back as she sported a cheeky smile. Did you even need to say anything to know she had something in mind? You flinched once she pinched your loose plain shirt and lifted it up, almost like she was grossed out.

“Jeez, this plant is so metal and stuff, your outfit is so boring in comparison.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, waving her away.

“I know, you don’t need to say it.”

“What do you think of this?”

As if it was on cue, she immediately lifted a charcoal black top, its design carefully formed to fit the shape of a dainty hourglass figure. High quality, multiple patterns delicately laid throughout alongside a few buttons that helped it pop, it was so pretty. Without wearing it, you knew it fit you, and you already imagined what to connect this with.

But it wasn’t before you immediately shut this idea down.

“Neon, I’m not wearing a corset again!”

“Why not?! It’s not like anyone will say anything!”

“But it’s too much! I think I’ll just go with the choker this time. Maybe next month I’ll come back and get this.”

You pointed at the simple black choker you held. And immediately, you were met with an unamused expression.

“This doesn’t even have a pattern on it.”

“I wanna take it slow. What would Harbour say if I showed up in that?”

She giggled, putting the corset away.

“The guy dances with death every single day; seeing you in knee-high boots is not gonna do anything to him. Right…?”

You blushed, jokingly shoving her away and turning to the shelves where the chokers were set. 

“Tumahimik ka! He’s like, forty!” <Shut up!>‎ 

Neon laughed, refusing to take her words back.

Then, one choker caught your eye. One with a heart in the centre, holding the whole thing together. Right next to a spiked one you considered getting, it was irresistible. And you flinched once Neon suddenly snatched it, observing said spikes.

“Why not this one? It looks cool.”

You rolled your eyes, putting back the plain choker in favour of the one with the heart. Then, you stepped away from the shelves, looking around for the cashier. It reminded you of Yoru. 

“I don’t like spikes.”

“What’re you talking about? You wore spikes all the time.”

“Not anymore. They look like they’d hurt.”

Neon cheekily smiled.

“Yeah, duh! Yoru has these gloves with spikes on them. And once, I saw him punch someone with it, I think he got a scar on his cheek from those spikes!”

You threw her an expression of disgust, before walking down the aisles and towards the cash register you found. Neon took the choker with her and followed, intentionally holding it with her left hand so that it would be hidden out of your sight.

“Neon, that’s so crass.”

“But fighting is crass! You think we look like pretty ballerinas when we’re on the field? No way, we look like animals!”

You smiled and met her gaze.

“I’ve spent my entire life working in customer service. Nothing can shock me after that.”

Neon set the two chokers on the counter. Unlike you, she didn’t bother to look at the cashier as he worked, watching you take out your wallet.

“Oh, right, I forgot. Didn’t you work in a salon once?”

“Don’t remind me.”

You both continued chatting as you purchased the items. And being so distracted with whatever she was saying, you didn’t even notice that you were also buying the spiked one, the worker setting them both on a plastic bag.

And with a smile, he handed it to you, both of you immediately making your way out of the store.

Within the next few seconds, you already had the heart choker wrapped around your neck, angling your somewhat-messy bob so that it would cover some of it from the passerby. It felt uncomfortable for the first few seconds, but you quickly got used to it once you saw your reflection on the nearby window. And pretty was an understatement.

Neon scrutinised you with a wide smile on her face.

“I can’t believe it, you look less like an NPC, now!”

Before you could retort, Neon’s phone buzzed and she quickly pulled it out. And immediately, she began rapidly typing back, her smile falling considerably fast.

Her sudden wide eyes immediately concerned you. 

“What’s up?”

“I, uh– we should go back.”

“Why, what happened?”

“Phoenix’s telling me the mission went south, they’re hurt! We have to go back and check on everyone! Come on!”

And with that brief yet sufficient explanation, she grabbed your wrist and rushed down the sidewalk; bits of her electricity cracking with each rapid step. 

You were pulled away faster than you could comprehend, now forced to share her panic.

❤ฺ·。

You came back to chaos.

The area was filled with the panicked voices of your fellow co-workers, most of them standing in the hallways just outside the infirmary rooms. Each door closed, and there was no sight of the two healers.

“I can’t find anyone!”

Neon called out, the unnerving atmosphere clearly getting to her. And you couldn’t blame her, not when each voice was louder and less recognisable than the last, everyone clumped together into one blur of various colours in the medical wing. None of them were people you knew.

Then, you heard a distant voice, high pitched, babbling in a language you couldn’t understand. But you knew you heard that voice before.

“Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Gah, there’s no time.

You grabbed her wrist and moved through the crowd, mumbling an apology with each person you gently pushed. And with each step, that voice had gotten louder and louder with every room you passed.

But it promptly went silent.

Just as you ushered a blonde man out of the way, suddenly, the door on your right violently swung open to reveal Sage, holding a dishevelled Jett close to her.

“Jett! Jett, what happened?”

Neon quickly rushed to her friend, but you noticed how the door was immediately slammed shut behind them, giving you no time to see what else was inside. Jett responded to her question, but it wasn’t a coherent string of sentences, Sage patting her back in reassurance as a teal aura wrapped around her hand and the Korean’s left shoulder.

“She’s gravely injured. Just give her a minute.”

Both of you noticed how she clutched her right bicep tightly, an odd discoloration blocked by her hand. And with her white skin, the harsh pink was obvious despite Sage’s efforts to heal her. With the way her sleeve was violently ripped to bits, a deep black painting the edges, it was concerning.

“What happened? Who’s in there?!”

“Follow me. We need to get her to a quiet room.”

And with that, all four of you made your way down the medical wing, moving towards an empty area.

You gently shut the door as Sage quickly worked on healing Jett, the discoloration slowly shrinking to a more manageable size, enough for her to be able to fully cover it from you and Neon. And both of you noticed how, despite her shock, she really wanted to keep it concealed. But only Neon had the guts to speak out.

“How bad is it?”

“Third degree burns. It was much more gruesome when it first occurred, but I have it under control.”

“Third degree burns?”

Sage met her gaze, strands of hair sticking out in a disorderly manner, alongside the sweat that dripped down her chin. In every sense of the word, she was exhausted.

“I’ll tell you later. I just need to get this fixed, urgently.”

You nodded, understanding what she meant. With the injury strong enough to put Jett in shock, you could tell why she didn't want to explain right next to her.

"Is everyone else okay?!"

You piped up. And thankfully, you both earned a nod.

"We managed to escape before the base completely exploded. I'm not even sure what happened."

"How? You weren't there?"

Jett winced once Sage's hands wrapped around her arm, forcing her to stop holding it so tightly. And despite you both now being able to get a clear look at her arm, there was only a blotch of light pink that slowly shrunk as the healer worked. It looked less gruesome than the glimpse you got just minutes before, thankfully.

And it seems like she’s gotten calm enough to be able to form sentences.

"I– I think I need a drink. Uh, Neon, can you help me out?"

"Sure, no problem."

And with her support, Jett and Neon left the room, walking extremely close side by side so as to keep the Korean from losing her balance.

Immediately, just as the door shut, your eyes darted over to Sage's.

"What happened, exactly?" 

Sage took a deep breath, grabbing the nearby rolling stool and taking a seat. One more second, and she knew that her legs would've buckled under her weight.

"I’m not sure, I wasn't with them, but I know something went wrong. When I arrived, Jett had a massive burn on her arm and Yoru was disfigured. From what she told me, sections of the base were falling apart."

Disfigured…?

You watched her rest her head on her hand, taking a deep breath.

"Is, uh," you started, nervous, "Is Yoru okay?"

"I– I think… he's stable. I have to go check in on him, nevertheless."

Sage suddenly stood up and immediately aimed towards the door, the conversation cut short. And just as she went to leave, you quickly caught her attention once more.

“Wait, is there anything I can do to help?”

She met your gaze, weakly smiling.

“Water would be great. But make sure you knock first. I’ll be right next door.”

You nodded. And with an even wider smile, she promptly turned on her heel and took her leave, heading towards the Japanese.

With a sigh, your mind drifted back to Neon and Jett. They should be in the cafeteria, right? She mentioned something about water. Maybe you should go there as well.

❤ฺ·。

The serene silence amidst the HQ was flipped on its head. Now, despite escaping that constricted hallway where constant words dripping with anxiety were exchanged, you still felt tense. What happened to Harbour? Skye? Was Jett okay, even after she was healed? What about Sage? She looked absolutely spent. And…

What about Yoru?

A loud clunk snapped you out of your trance, and you blinked to find yourself in the doorway of the cafeteria, Neon standing right over the sink, a glass being filled up with water in her hand. Just as you arrived, she turned off the faucet and faced Jett, neither of them catching on to your presence as they chatted. Their tones low and melancholic, it only added on to the intensity of the general situation.

Jett seemed to have calmed down, judging by her relaxed posture as she took the glass from Neon. There, she noticed you, weakly bringing up her good arm to wave.

“Hey, A/N.”

You waved back, awkwardly smiling.

“Hey… are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m alright, I was just telling Neon what happened. By the way, did Sage say anything about Yoru?”

You approached the sink, taking out a glass and washing it.

“Uh… She said he was stable. I’ll give her the water and check in for you.”

“Thanks, you’re the best! Also, nice choker.”

You smiled to yourself, muttering a ‘thanks’ whilst you worked. Even in complete anguish, she somehow managed to notice it and even compliment it. What a sweetheart, you thought.

The water loudly swirled in the glass as you filled it.

“Is everyone else okay?”

“Nobody else got hurt, just me and Yoru. And he got the worse end of the stick, by the way.” She rolled her eyes, bringing the glass of water up to her lips. “Of course it’s us.”

“Seriously, what happened to Yoru?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re back.”

You groaned, turning to look at them as she gulped down, presumably, the second glass of water.

“Come on! Sage won’t tell me, and now you won’t tell me?”

To be fair, she didn’t know what happened.

“It’s– it’s awkward for him, okay? I don’t want him to get mad if I told anyone! And it’s not like I told her, all Neon knows is that a pipe burst on my arm!”

“What?”

“Yeah, straight through! Burned like hell!”

Now you knew why she was so desperately trying to cover her arm. It must’ve looked so grim.

You let out a huff, noticing the look of genuine concern over Jett as she explained. And it wasn’t the fact that she was hurt, more-so about Yoru, and how he’d go ape on her if she said anything. Like that mattered in this situation.

“If this is how all missions are gonna be, then isn’t it fair that I should know?”

Neon awkwardly laughed. Clearly, she hoped you wouldn’t bring that one specific point up.

“Okay, A/N, wait, I know this all looks bad but I swear, not all missions are like this. This only happens, like, once in a blue moon!”

“And that moon came up right after I–”

Oh, right. Luck. 

You held up the glass of water, a few droplets falling to the ground.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You promptly left with the glass, heading back towards the room where Yoru was. And your mind was slowly dipped in turmoil with each conversation you had. Sure, Jett was shocked, but she clearly came down from it and was ready to talk.

God, how big of an ego did Yoru have, and why did everyone just accept it?!

You sighed and took a turn, working to push these thoughts off of your head.

Yoru was hurt. Seriously hurt, by the way they talked about him. You shouldn’t be holding a stupid grudge when his life was in danger. Maybe, just this one time, you could give him a pass…? Until he gets better, that is.

❤ฺ·。

The rest of the day, even after it ended, wasn’t easy for anybody. The lingering aroma of death still haunted the halls even after the break of dawn and you were marching down the hallways alone. Out of everyone, you carried the most burden. Mentally, that is.

Yoru was completely unconscious. You were sure of it.

Even though Sage didn’t let you in the room after you’d given her the water, the entirety of the day went by without a single sound from him. And you watched that door like a hawk. Only Sage left that room, but there was no sign of the Japanese.

You couldn’t help but think, was this all your fault?

You remembered how people back home would avoid associating with you because of your luck. After Neon befriended you and disappeared without a trace, your reputation was set in stone.

And with what just happened, were they wrong not to think otherwise? According to Neon, this never happens. And Yoru, after insulting you, was subjected to a horrible fate.

Was he even–

You stopped in your tracks once you saw a familiar figure sitting at one of the tables of the cafeteria. Back turned towards you, you recognised him by the spiky hair.

“Yoru?”

You called out, concern bleeding into your tone. He turned around, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, before looking back at his food.

“Hey.”

You quickly moved up towards him, laughing awkwardly. Relief overwhelmed you like never before at the sight of the grumpy Japanese. Just seeing him alive in front of you, it was cathartic. And wearing a plain white tee, you would’ve never guessed it was him, either.

“Yoru! Juskó, are you okay?” <Yoru! Oh my god,>‎ 

He ignored you as you approached his left, not turning his head all the way to meet your gaze. And weirdly enough, instead of some gourmet food, he was drinking a glass of water with ice in it, swimming like pretty mermaids.

“What do you want, lady?”

You placed a hand on your hip, furrowing your brow. Jeez, now you remembered why you argued.

“I wanted to check in on you, I thought you died! I was worried about you!”

“Tch.”

He lifted the glass and took a sip, and your eyes immediately locked on to his exposed right arm. There was a harsh light-pink tone that overtook the entire limb. Ungloved, every single detail was free to be scrutinised.

…

Was he purposely not looking at you head-on?

With this in mind, you immediately moved in front of him. And now, you finally got a good look at his face. And the sight was… incredibly hard to look at, to put it lightly.

The right side of his body, whatever wasn’t concealed by his shirt, was painted in the same pink, and it looked verbatim like first degree burns. And this was after Sage healed him, you couldn’t imagine how it looked when he was first found. How did all of this happen…?

But you could see a deeper red near where his neck was, like that part wasn’t healed properly.

It must be so painful for him to even grab the water and drink… Ugh, okay, scratch that. Too vivid.

“Go away.”

He said through gritted teeth, snapping you out of your shock. And quickly, you cleared your throat with an awkward smile.

“Sorry– do you, uh,” you looked at his right arm, pink, seemingly useless, “do you want me to cook you something?”

He raised an eyebrow, insulted. And it’s not like he didn’t catch on, either.

“I’m ambidextrous.”

…

“Yeah, but… I’m– I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

He took another sip, breaking eye contact with you. And with that, you heaved a tired sigh, turning to the stove to your right, completely unused. If he came down his high-horse and just admitted that the heat of the stove would get to him, there would be sympathy. But how could you be mad at him in this state? 

He was clearly helpless despite his aversion to showing vulnerability.

“Yoru, whatever you want, just say it, I’ll make it. No skin off my back.”

“I want you to leave me alone.”

God, he was impossible, even when you were trying to make amends. 

You sighed, finally turning to the stove to make your own food. Neon wouldn’t mind if you used some of her ingredients, right…? The grocery trip you would’ve gone to yesterday was cut short by… well, you know. Hey, the choker made you feel confident, at least.

You moved to the fridge and got to work, taking out what was needed for your own breakfast. It’s been a while since you’ve cooked your own food, so you might be rusty.

Yoru winced once the clunk of your plate ripped him from his day-dreaming, watching you as you sat in front of him with your breakfast. Thankfully, no plate for him. 

But as much as he didn’t want to admit it, the food smelled okay. Which was surprising considering the bland stuff he watched you consensually eat. Yoru quickly recognised the dish as tapsilog thanks to Neon, who would usually make this whenever she was forced to cook.

“So, what happened?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You know, the mission, and stuff. Jett hurt her arm, and you…?”

You looked him up and down, noticing how the burns only took over the lower right side of his face, having grown threateningly close to his eye. Just a few more inches, and he’d have a clouded lens. Would Sage be able to heal that?

Like an approaching wave of volcano, the sight of Yoru slightly smiling immediately caught your attention.

“Didn’t Jett tell you?”

“Uh, no? She didn’t want you to get mad if she did.”

“Tch.”

You rested your arms on the table and waited for him to continue.

…

Ugh. 

“So?”

“It’s not a big deal. One of the pipes burst on Jett’s arm, I covered her from the upcoming explosion, and accidentally took the damage from the wall of pipes behind me. That’s it. Now stop–”

“Wait, wait, what?!”

A wall of pipes went off on him? The toxic fumes, everything? And he was so nonchalant about it?! Just the burns on Jett’s arm, whatever you caught, looked agonising. And he had double that amount explode right on him.

If it weren’t for the existing marks on him, you’d definitely think he was lying.

“How aren’t you maimed, at least? You look fine!”

“Sage’s magic does wonders.” He proudly pointed at his neck, where the deep pink resided, “This spot was mangled when I woke up.”

To say you were horrified would be an understatement. No wonder Sage didn’t allow you to see him. You really didn’t want to believe what he was saying was true, either.

“You’re saying that you covered Jett from the explosions, but it hit you. How?”

“I wrapped the rift around her front. But I swallowed the damage from behind.”

“What–”

Wrap the rift around her? What does that even mean? Like, a mystical shield?

“Why didn’t you– you know, wrap that… around both of you, all the way through?”

“Lady, I had two seconds to keep her safe. I thought I had my back against a wall, at first.”

…Keep her safe? Did those words really just leave Yoru’s mouth without a hint of irony or sarcasm?

“But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You kept her safe. Do you care about Jett that much?”

Yoru wryly laughed at such a stupid concept, immediately dismissing you with a wave of his good hand.

“As if. I acted on instinct.”

And yet, his instincts demanded he put her before him? Even if those pipes weren’t behind him, he fearlessly covered her on both sides using everything in his arsenal; even himself. Doesn’t sound very selfish to you, you thought.

Wait… 

“Are you gonna hold this over her head?”

“What the hell do you take me for?”

…

Wow. You really weren’t sure what to think about him.

Yoru pushed the chair back and went to stand, but you quickly held a hand up and stopped him.

“Yoru, wait.”

“What?”

You sheepishly slid your plate of food towards him, an awkward smile lifting your lips.

“You didn’t eat yet.”

He stared at you, and his hostile expression quickly softened at such an unexpected offer. Alongside that, you could also sense an air of confusion.

“I’m not eating that.”

“You need to eat something, Yoru. You’re hurt, your body needs it.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“One bite, at least? Please?” 

“I don’t want your–”

“Just this once!”

He stared at you for a few seconds, clearly annoyed at how persistent you were. Where did the coward A/N go, the one who couldn’t even tell Harbour she was too tired to go back to training? He thought.

…

He sighed, pushing the chair forward and taking the fork into his hand.

“Fine. Just so you’ll shut up.”

You beamed with a smile, watching him pick up a small piece of the beef with his fork.

However, your smile quickly fell once you noticed his face slightly twist at the sight of it, despite the steam that escaped it. To you, it looked incredibly delectable, and frankly, it was a crime you weren’t the one eating it.

“What’s up? Do you hate the seasoning?”

“No. Meat’s just not my first choice.”

“But I thought you liked hibachi grills.”

He shook his head.

“Nevermind.”

He took a bite, leaving you even more confused.

You stared at his face as he ate, not realising how weird you looked, not when you really wanted to know what he thought of the food. It’s not like you didn’t ask yourself why the hell it mattered. Wasn’t this the same man who called you spineless to your face just the day before?

And you felt bad just because he… saved Jett’s life, and didn’t plan on holding it against her.

You turned your gaze away, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“What’s your deal?”

You shook your head, a quick and impossibly awkward giggle escaping you.

“Nothing. You know, now that I think about it, I should get back to training.”

Yoru watched you stand up and quickly walk off, escaping his line of sight within a few seconds. And for a moment he questioned your sudden switch, before completely dismissing it and eating his breakfast.

Unlike you, his emotions had minimal control over him. 

He didn’t care.

❤ฺ·。

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you sort of understood now why people gave Yoru a pass on his abrasive behaviour. After putting his life on the line, allowing himself to get severely injured, all for the sake of Jett’s survivability? How could you hate him after that?

You sighed to yourself as you worked, struggling to find the muscle that ejects sundew. How did you do it last time? All you recalled was angrily pointing at Yoru… Wait, maybe it’s connected to your index–

Nectar suddenly engulfed your hand by accident, dripping down to the floor.  Wrong trigger…

You sighed and left the training range, moving towards one of the tables where a box of tissues sat, like they were waiting for you.

Then, a set of cyan slits caught your attention, and you turned to find Omen standing near the lockers. Just seeing him felt incredibly calming.

“Hey, Omen.”

He met your gaze, but his awkward posture quickly set you off.

“What’s up?”

…

“A/N. Nice choker.”

You grinned in pride, using two fingers to caress the heart choker once more. Second compliment on the accessory, already? And from Omen, too. Maybe this thing’s paying off.

“Maraming salamat. Thank you. But are you okay?” <Thank you so much.>‎ 

Omen shook his head, turning back to his locker.

“Nothing, I was… set off by the smell just now.”

You awkwardly laughed, quickly working on wiping the nectar away, desperately praying he didn’t read up on your abilities and didn’t know it was coming from you.

“I’d forgotten what you can do.”

Damn it.

“Sorry about that. Used the wrong muscle, and stuff.”

“What were you trying to do?”

He gently closed the door to his locker and approached you. Panicking, you immediately wiped up the remaining liquid and tried to find the trash before the scent could irritate him any further. You really didn't want to be reminding Omen of his biggest fears. He was too sweet to be hurt like that.

Where was the trashcan?!

“I wanted to shoot that sundew bomb again, but I don’t know how I did it the first time.”

“I see. And… isn’t Harbour your coach?”

“Well–”

You really hoped he wouldn’t have asked this question. But at least it wasn’t Yoru asking you this. It’s not like you didn’t think about it, either. But he was exhausted just like the other agents. You couldn’t bother him, not after what just happened.

“I– I wanted to practise alone, you know? I’m not in the mood to talk, and stuff.”

Omen stared at you in silence for a moment, before nodding.

“Very well. I was about to leave, anyway.”

Uh oh.

“Uh, wait–”

You quickly held up a hand and stopped him just as he took one step away. And thankfully, he did.

“You know, it– uh, it’s not so bad having you around.” You awkwardly smiled. “Mind staying? It’ll be fun just to talk.”

“Talk?”

You nodded, anxiously scratching at your bracelet. And the few seconds that passed felt like whole hours, before he finally spoke up.

“I can do that. Let’s go.”

Even though Omen had a soothing aura, talking to him was also incredibly stressful. At least you could go off of the eyebrow movements with Yoru. But him? There was literally nothing other than maybe the slits.

Nevertheless, you both entered the training room, and only now did you remember the puddle of nectar you accidentally left behind. Omen stopped, took a deep inhale, before ‘clearing his throat’.

“I didn’t want to say anything, but I have half a mind to turn this scent into a candle.”

…

“Is… Uh, is that a bad thing?”

“Just tempting. The smell’s pleasing to the soul.”

You eagerly smiled and stopped right in front of him. In the vast area, your voices echoed like you stood in a massive field. A massive dull, closed off and grey field, but I digress.

Separated into two classifications, poison and nectar, you were delighted to discover than he smelt the latter.

“Candles that smell like everyone’s favourite thing ever? I’m up for it!”

“I’ll need a cup-full of it first. Then, I’ll see if I remember the steps…”

You both continued chatting about nonsense as you tried to summon the sundew.

And for the whole hour that you were there, progress was naught. For some reason, you just couldn’t find the trigger for it. All you did was summon more of the nectar by accident. But you avoided crushing the building to bits.

Omen even offered to leave to let you focus, but you couldn’t part. Not yet. Not when he was exactly like Yoru, albeit a kinder version of him. One you could talk to without being looked down on for existing.

You sighed, pulling back your hand and staring at it. Your arm started to ache with how much you kept it pointed straight forward, and how much pressure it took to keep producing the nectar, but nothing would come out.

However, your mind drifted elsewhere.

“Omen… you saw what happened to Yoru yesterday, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Is that, uh, normal?”

Omen met your gaze, and you could sense his confusion by the subtle tilt of his head.

“Yes, we all get injured in this line of work.”

“No, but, he had pipes explode right on him. He almost died. Does that usually happen?”

He crossed his arms and leaned on the wall once more, clearly pondering. It’s not like he didn’t know the answer to your question. But considering the dread that bled into your tone as you spoke, he wanted to figure out how to ease this information onto you.

“...What happened to Yoru was a rare instance.”

Before you could let relief calm you, he immediately spoke up again.

“I understand how fun your friends make it seem, but, A/N, Valorant isn’t a fun get-together. Dying on the frontlines is still highly expected.”

All relief was squashed within a second, and you put down your arm in surprise. Omen noticed this, quickly continuing his sentence.

“Obviously Sage can bring us back should that ever happen, but my point stands.”

You awkwardly laugh, feeling panic suddenly engulf you like a flood. Something he also took note of.

“Kailangang magbiro ito…” <This has to be a joke…>‎ 

You stretched your right hand, struggling to keep the poisonous fluid and everything alongside it at bay. As much as you tried to keep yourself relaxed, your shaky voice gave everything away.

“W– well, is there, you know, a way to get out of this? This isn’t what I– it’s too much, you know? It’s– It's not– I don’t think this is something I can handle.”

“I… can’t say for sure.”

You put your hands on your temples, struggling to keep calm.

With how little they talked about it, you never realised how appalling the circumstances were, not until you saw it in action. You saw the burns on Yoru, and those burns were after he was healed. You couldn’t not imagine what he looked like when it all first happened. But most importantly, how did he feel? How much pain did he endure before he passed out? And how high were the chances of that happening to you?!

Amidst the turmoil in your head as you mumbled nonsense in Tagalog, you hadn’t realised that Omen stepped up to you, the slits combined with his presence snatching your attention with ease.

“You’re sure there’s no way out of this?! Mali ito, ako– hindi ako dapat nanatili rito!” <You’re sure there’s no way out of this?! This is wrong, I– I shouldn't have stayed here!>‎ 

He put his hand on your shoulder, his touch slowly bringing you back to reality.

“Take it easy, A/N. You’ll be alright.”

“No I won’t, what if that also happens to me?!”

“It won’t. I guarantee it won’t.”

“But– but–”

“You let your fear control you too much, A/N. Half the things running through your mind are impossible scenarios.”

He saw the poison that dripped from your hand. You didn’t notice it, but thanks to this, being around you forced him to remember his own array of problems.

“Wh– what? How do you know?”

His posture loosened, giving you an air of amicability.

“It happened to me when I first became… this.” He pointed to himself. “It’s only when you truly get on the field do you realise how repetitive things really are.”

…

How repetitive things really are? As in…

“So… I’ll– I’ll be fine?”

“You will. And you’ll even be laughing at yourself a few months from now. That’s what I did.”

His lighthearted tone took its toll on you in a positive way. Just by the softness of his voice, it managed to calm you down and force a smile to lift your cheeks.

Omen was just so… kind.

“How are you feeling?”

You sighed, running your dry fingers through your hair.

“I– I feel better.”

“Good. Now, how about those candles we talked about?”

…

“That– that sounds… It sounds great. Okay, yeah, let’s do it.”

With a friendly pat on the shoulder, you both walked out of the training room and headed towards elsewhere, ready to get your mind off of everything.

[i-think-i-did-it-again]

The Tour X

A/N: I know not much happens in this chapter but it's building, I promise! Warnings: swearing, make out, angst

Chase and Baze’s other friends hung around for a few days after the party, occasionally coming to the concert but mostly finding their own ways to entertain themselves until the after parties. Chase invited you to join them a few times but you knew that if you took him up on the offer, you’d technically be breaking your contract and you didn’t want to be fired when you were having so much fun on tour.

You were kind of bummed when Chase said that he had to head home. Thanks to the concerts and after parties, the two of you never really had a chance to be alone but that didn’t stop you from proving your point to Colson. Any chance you got, you found a way to remind him that you didn’t belong to him. Sometimes it would be as subtle as standing with Chase at the parties or backstage. Other times it would be obvious as sitting on his lap, letting him hold your hand and stroke your hair or kissing him while the two of you danced in the middle of a nightclub. You would feel the daggers that Colson sent your way when Chase would kiss you and you didn’t give a single fuck. 

Be as pissed as you want, I don’t fucking care!

“Where’d your boy toy go?” Colson sneered at you as he walked into the kitchenette area of the bus. You sat at the dining table, scrolling through Instagram.

“Had to go home, some people have real jobs,” you jeered back with an eyeroll. 

When you stand to head back to your bunk you feel a tug at your wrist. You look down to see Colson’s large hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. You pull back as if his touch burns and tuck your hands into the pockets of your jeans. You can see how the gesture hurts him and you try to not feel guilty but no matter what happens, you still care about him even if you know you shouldn’t.

“Look, about what I said in the green room,” he starts awkwardly and you’re suddenly very aware of the small space you’re in. “I-I shouldn’t have said it and I’m not even really sure why I did but I just want you to know, I…I didn’t mean it and I’m sorry.”

“Which part? You said a few pretty shitty things,” you grimace as you remember his words.

Don’t let him suck you in. It doesn’t matter what he’s sorry for. He was an ass who made his bed and now he has to lie in it.

“All of it. I just, can we start over?” his eyes look so serious, so pleading that your chest physically tightens.

No, we can’t.

“I accept your apology but I don’t think we should do…that again.”

His face drops and you have to force yourself to walk away. You don’t want to but you made yourself a promise and you have to stick to it. You lie down in your bunk feeling like the biggest asshole in the world but you have to remind yourself that this isn’t your fault. Colson was the one that acted like a dick and you’re not a pushover who just lets people do nasty things to you and you just accept it. You have dignity, you have morals.

As you feel the curtain of your bunk flitter, you know Colson is slinking back to his own room and you tense at the sound of his door slamming. The curtain of your bunk pulls to the side and Rook hangs over the side of his bunk above you, staring at you with those all knowing eyes.

“What the fuck is going on between the two of you?” he asks in a hushed voice. Sophie’s curtain shifts and she is now also staring at you.

“It’s complicated,” you mumble, pulling your curtain closed and rolling over to face the wall and hope you can get some sleep.

The drive from Texas to Oklahoma is only 5 hours but you spend a majority of that time either sleeping or hiding out in your bunk. You hear the low murmur of voices in the front lounge, Rook and Sam playing video games, Sophie on the phone or the sound of some sporting event on the TV. You don’t once hear Colson’s door open or hear his voice with your friends. You feel guilty that he feels the need to hide in his room but you push the guilt down with the rest of it.

When the bus finally comes to a stop outside your hotel room, you wait for the bus to empty before venturing out of your bunk. You pull the curtain aside and peak your head out to make sure it’s actually empty. You jump down and adjust your t-shirt and fix your bed hair. You feel warm breath on the back of your neck and turn around to see Colson staring down at you with cold eyes. You move out of the way so he can pass you but he makes no attempt to do so. You stand there awkwardly for a moment, staring at him. You huff out a breath of frustration and grab your phone from your bed and head to the front of the bus. He’s hot on your heels, practically stepping on top of you to stay right behind you.

“Ok, what the fuck is your problem?” you reel back and scream in his face. 

He doesn’t say anything, instead he continues to stare down at you with that same blank expression. Your emotions are a mixture of flustered and frustrated. You want to escape him but you also want to scream at him but that’s not the most overwhelming feeling. The most overwhelming urge to get the lifeless expression off his face. It’s unnerving and it seems almost unnatural on his usual expression. He’s always smiling, his eyes shining.

With a shaky hand you reach up, his eyes zeroing in on your hand. You lightly graze your fingers over his cheek and his stony features begin to crack. His eyes flutter closed and he almost leans into your touch. You can tell he’s resisting the urge to let you in but he’s slowly losing the battle. He sighs, deep and heavy, before opening his eyes again. His pupils dilate as he looks at you, studying your features.

He dips his head so he’s eye level with you. You’re so in control until you make the stupidest decision you could possibly make. You study his features closely, your eyes searching his face, and at the last minute your eyes dip to his lips. You immediately regret it, darting your eyes everywhere but there but it’s too late. He caught you and now he knows he has the upperhand. 

Colson stands to his full height which is extremely intimidating in the small space. You try to step back but that just pushes you against the wall that separates the front of the bus from the bunks. He steps closer, trapping you with his body. He wraps his fingers around the back of your neck and pulls your face closer to his. Then, his lips collide with yours. You can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips. 

STOP HIM! PUSH HIM AWAY! HAVE SOME FUCKING WILLPOWER!

Your mind is screaming at you but your body is singing. Every nerve ending feels as though it’s on fire. Your skin is flushed, your lips bending to Colson’s every will and need. Your panties are absolutely soaked and you’re enjoying every tantalising second of it. Colson’s hard cock is pressed against your stomach and that only spurs you on. His body pressed against is so delicious, so intoxicating, you almost don’t hear the gasp.

You push Colson away to see Ashleigh, Rook and Sophie all staring at the two of you, their jaws on the floor. As soon as his lips and body are away from yours, it’s as if a fog clears from your mind. Suddenly realise how ridiculously fucking stupid it was to let him back in like that, without so much as a fight. You don’t know what to say to your friends. Embarrassment fills you and it’s like you’re drowning in your own shame and then you’re pissed.

You push through everyone to get out of the bus, not having the guts to face them. You can hear Colson calling your name as you run into the lobby of the hotel. You try to ignore him but he’s getting closer and closer. You can’t take the feeling of shame anymore and you just…snap.

“STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” you scream at him and he stops dead in his tracks, his face a mix of confusion and anger. Before he can say anything else, you duck into the restroom off the lobby, collapsing back against the door, fits of sobs filling the small room.

[echo-goes-mmm]

Silas and Wren #2

Masterpost

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Warnings: brief mention of future non-con

The carriage ride back to his home was… awkward. Now that he had someone to talk to, what was there to say?

He had to encourage the slave to sit on the carriage bench and not the floor. The slave sat obediently, staring at the floor. 

“Is the wood so interesting?” Silas joked. The slave startled. 

“I’m sorry, Master,” said the slave, who wrapped his arms around himself.

“No, I mean-” Silas sighed. Off to a great start. “I’m sorry. I’m Silas. Do you have a name?”

“Only what you wish to call me, Master.” 

“Well, what did your mother call you?” The slave looked up at him, surprise on his face. He looked away, out the window.

“She called me Wren,” he said, wistful.

“Then that’s your name.”

“Oh! Thank you, Master.” Wren smiled at him, a tiny happy thing. He was pretty when he smiled. His freckles stood out more and they matched well with his reddish hair.

Silas noticed a mark on the back of Wren’s left hand. It was raised, a perfect circle with an S in the center. A brand. He searched his brain for a pleasant conversation topic. He didn’t want to think about it.

“Have you ever been over the border?” he asked.

“No, Master. I don’t know anyone who has.” 

“Oh. Well, it’s very nice. Lots of trees.” He could have smacked himself. ‘Lots of trees’? Really?

“Um, that does sound nice. I like trees.” 

They lapsed into silence again. Wren had taken to watching the countryside go by. 

Maybe things would go better at home.

___________________

He paid the driver and tipped well. The estate was small, compared to his family home, but Silas preferred ‘spacious’ over ‘enormous’. He didn’t need more rooms to emphasize that no one visited him.

He had converted part of the east wing into a kitchen and pantry for his human, and ordered plenty of food. Hopefully Wren wasn’t allergic to anything.

His home didn’t have many original widows, so he had a few made. He would just figure out a way to avoid them if he got a cold. 

Wren’s bedroom was also in the east wing. His was in the west. Silas didn’t want to intimidate Wren, so neighboring bedrooms wasn’t an option. 

He prayed Wren wouldn’t avoid him. He wasn’t sure if could stand the prospect of more rejection.

He led Wren to his bedroom, and his eyes were as big as saucers.

“This is all for me? Really?”

“Do you like it?” asked Silas, nervous. “I wasn’t sure about the color, but it could be painted again. And I could get you a different rug if you want. And anything else you want.”

“I- I don’t need anything else, Master. You don’t need to waste your money on me.”

“It’s not a waste,” said Silas. “I just want you to be comfortable.” He shifted a little. Wren looked like he was about to cry. 

___________________

It was all for him. The bedroom, the brand new kitchen and fully stocked pantry, he even got his own bathroom and shower. 

The door even had a lock on the inside. He could lock his Master out, even if only technically. Vampires were far stronger than a bit of copper.

He thought Master Silas was pretty scary, but maybe he wouldn’t be so bad. Wren had put up with a lot without all of these nice things. Surely having them would make whatever Silas wanted to do to him easier to bear. 

Master Silas’s house was so impressive, he could give a slave a room better than most Masters reserved for themselves. Dark wood panels, vivid wallpaper, a plush rug, and a full furniture set (including a couch!). 

The star of the room was the queen-sized four poster bed. He ran his hand over the comforter, almost afraid to touch it. It was so soft.

“I’m sorry,” said Master. “I didn’t buy you any clothes.”

Wren could have cried right then and there. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, Master,” he wiped his eyes, “I’m okay. Thank you.”

“Do- do you want to see the rest of the estate? Or we could play a game?”

A ‘game’ could mean anything, so the tour it was.

“I would like to see your house, Master.” Silas smiled at him. 

Master showed him the library (it was impressive, but Wren couldn’t read), a very nice sitting room, the drawing room, sun room, and finally Master’s own bedroom. 

Master’s room was large, and clearly meant for two. It was in what Master Silas called the ‘family wing’, but Wren hadn’t seen another soul in the house. There must be a maid service that he hired, because there was no evidence of servants despite the lack of dust and unpolished furniture.

Wren had never lived without at least a few people around him. He couldn’t talk much to free people, but he made friends with other slaves, even some servants. 

It would be an adjustment for him.

Master also showed him the garden, which was a little confusing. He thought vampires were burned by the sun. It was cloudy out now, but why bother with a beautiful garden when Silas could only enjoy it when the weather was bad? 

He could be wrong. After all, he was only a slave and not very smart. And people who avoided the sun didn’t have windows in their homes, much less in their own bedrooms.

But more importantly, when would Master Silas drink from him?

When would Master want to bed him?

taglist: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @secretwhumplair @freefallingup13 @mylovelyme @whumpzone

[blankwashed]

Sleepless Shadows (Part 5)

Chapter: I II III IV V VI VII

Satoru smiles when you say his name. He shifts his weight up so that he stares at the ceiling.

"I wonder how I'm going to sleep tonight, on this broken bed and smelly sheets. At least I have you with me," Satoru says, not looking at you.

"Si- Satoru, I have to apologise. Previously when you were paying for this room, I felt so bad. I-I wish I could repay you in any other way," You were truly feeling bad.

"It's no big deal, dear. I have a lot of money, remember? I know this place is utterly trash but its okay. At least I have good company here," He turned and you realised, where the fuck did his shirt go?

Blushing and turning your head to the other side, you spoke softly again, "S-Satoru..can you sleep? C-cause I don't think my body is-"

He cuts you off.

"No I can't either, darling."

Your face immediately flushes and you could even hear your own hearbeat. It was beating at a fast pace having palpitations, you figured.

Satoru is shirtless? What the fuck? I mean the room technically did not have any air-conditioning but it was a cool night, wasn't it?

You definitely bit your lip. If you were at home, alone, you would start touching yourself, imagining it was him. Carressing your shoulders up to your thighs, marking each and every spot as his— Not now!

Fuck having a hot teacher, really. You cursed in your mind.

"Darling, face me. Why are you so shy? Have you never seen a man shirtless?"

You held your breath with your face turned the other side, "I—I have…I have three brothers, Satoru," T-This was the most awkward you have ever been around Sator—you meant your sensei!

"Then why are you so shy around me?" You could SWEAR to the heavens that you knew he was smirking. Fuck.

"B—because I think it's not right for me as your student, even though we're out of school grounds to look at your bare chest," You just tried to come up with excuses at this point but deep down you know you wanted more.

Satoru cracks his neck, clearly he was stressed at the moment.

"Who said that it was wrong? I don't see anyone else here. It's just me and you, sugar plum. I know how you feel about me. The way you chew your pen when you look at me while I'm giving a lecture in class, with your legs on top of each other. Don’t even get me started on me spotting you trying to look at my cock, huh? Seeing whether I haven’t gotten rid of my morning wood. You’d like to help me on that?"

You just wanted to dissapear at that moment.

"Also, whatever student's say will somehow come to the lecturer's ears you know? Were you aware of that, my sly minx?"

Your mind just went blank at that moment, trying to recall what you told your friends about your crush on Satoru. Obviously with heat rising up to your ears, you weren't able to.

"I—I have no idea what you're talking about, sir…"

He scoffs.

"We're back to formalities, cupcake?" he sighed.

"N—No nothing like that, Satoru. I just feel that it's strange for me to call someone that I respect so much by their real name" You were justifying yourself and again he cuts you off.

Satoru slithers a hand underneath you to bring you closer to him.

"Angel, you said you wanted to repay me for this room right?"

You gulped, is he going to say what you think he's saying?

"Y—yes Satoru…"

He licked and bit his lip.

"I'm stressed now, dear. About my car and how stressful work has been these few days. So if you could help me with a certain problem, a predicament if you will," he spoke in a low, sensual voice that made your soul almost jump out of your chest. Is he saying what you think he's saying?

Your risque teacher comes closer to your ear and wraps his arms around your body.

"Are you up for it, my angel?"

You wished you could just crawl into a small ball and disappear. Woosh.

"S—Satoru?" You finally turned to face him and obviously with your jaw dropped, slightly. He started to move his head side-to-side, cracking his neck again with a lick of his lips which made your fingers fidget under the blanket you tucked yourself into. Was that just his habit or did he mean something else?

Remembering what the woman at the front desk said, chocolates and champagne, of course! You got up and dashed for the chocolates and champagne bottles, wanting to buy some time before you could think about what to you wanted to reply Satoru with. In your gut, you were wishing that the chocolates and champagne were are least decent enough to take Satoru's mind off whatever he wanted to do with you. His tastebuds have already tasted premium luxurious chocolate, so he might not bother about these cheap ones but you hoped it would buy you some time.

There was no doubt that you wanted to please him in that way but you were new to all of this and have never done such things with anyone before. Your mind was fogged up thinking about whether you wanted to give all your firsts to Satoru, your lecturer, someone you practically only meet during class hours. The more you think about it, you shouldn't even have agreed to go out to have supper with him in the first place, you were the reason why all of this happened.

You looked back at Satoru, offering him the chocolate that came in boxed form while munching on them yourself. “Here! S-Satoru! These aren’t that half bad. M-Maybe if you have a few you might calm down,” You said loudly, due to how nervous you have become.

Satoru stood up, approached you and knocked the chocolate off your hands. Aww they were actually not that bad.

“Don’t you want this, my dear? This is the perfect opportunity and you’re just going to run away from it? I thought there was a connection, with you agreeing to go out with me and how I can clearly see how wet you have become just being in the same radius as me. It’s not that hard to see, sugar plum.”

Is Satoru Gojo really begging for you to touch him now?

This time you dropped to your knees right in front of him. Did you have a choice? Did you know what to do? I mean you’ve seen some videos and heard people talk about it, is it going to be the exact same?

“Don’t worry baby, I’d guide you. J-Just like in class..” His breath hitched while taking your head towards his cock. You were feeling full, like you were sucking on a big lollipop. He thrusts into your mouth, showing you how to do it till you were swirling your tongue and trying to tease him just as he has been teasing you all this while. Like the innocent lamb you were, you were making sure your tongue gets right in between his folds, making him grunt. Lunging forward and grabbing your hair but not pushing himself onto you made you moan onto him and he showed that he clearly got pleasure from that. You made a note in your mind that he’s sensitive when you do that, making sure that you only do it when you want him to be putty in your hands. “Oh this is fun,” you thought to yourself.

Satoru’s full length was hard for you to take in and he didn’t want to force it on you. With little knowledge about how this was done, your hands wrapped around his cock, trying to stroke it with the same rhythm as how you were sucking. He threw his head back and groaned loudly while jerking into your mouth as you remained pleasuring him at the same speed. You were choking, at one point and that increased his pleasure.

“T-that’s right..my best student also knows how to please her teacher, doesn’t she? F-Fuck it’s always the innocent lambs that do it the best,” Satoru groans in pleasure. That was an ego boost for you, trying to keep the pace up even though you were crying. He was too big for you. Satoru noticed your tears and he pulled himself out which left your mouth empty and that made you whine.

He stroked your cheek and you made a groan at first, still wanting more of him.

“My sweet darling, am I too big for you? Want more of me?” You felt a little smirk after saying that. Wiping the involuntary tears off your face, you shook your head, trying to seem brave and a little more experienced than you actually were. It was embarrassing to be seen as a virgin at your age.

“Really dear? Then you wouldn’t mind if I did this?” Satoru grabbed your waist and brought it closer to his. You wanted to scream or shout but that would turn him off. “Losing my first time with my lecturer isn’t that bad, isn’t it? It would be an achievement actually,” you thought to yourself.

Moans came out of your mouth when he bit his lip and started to take off your panties, his cold hands touching your heated skin. You were sure they turned him on even more, so you guessed that there was no more looking back. As he was holding it in his hand, he sniffed it and softly groaned, “Baby you smell fucking delicious,” and then he proceeds to stuff it in your mouth. “We know the walls in this place are thin as fuck, I don’t want people to hear my girl’s loud screams, do I?”

He aligned himself again once more and slowly inched himself into you. The pain was excruciating at that point but thankfully your shouts were muffled down.

“S-shatho..” You tried to call out his name. He looked like an ethereal god at that point, enjoying how painfully tight you were with his head thrown back and his hands reaching to grab your breasts. He also realised that you were a virgin and how he just penetrated and broke your hymen, but he was enjoying himself a little too much to bother about that. As painful as it was, Satoru was going slow and that helped a slight bit for you to adjust to his size. He also noticed that you were bleeding from the penetration but he didn’t bother as this motel probably has to deal with situations like these, he didn’t care.

The panties in your mouth was starting to get so wet from your saliva so you decided to just spit it out. There he saw your face, full of pain and pleasure, trying to keep up with his momentum. Satoru dipped down to take a nipple into his mouth, swirling it and nibbling on it slightly. You were contented with the sense of pleasure you were getting for your first time. Just before he released it he bit on it, earning a loud moan from you while grabbing a hold on his white hair and jerking your hips forward made Satoru smile sinisterly. Oh what has he made his top student become?

At that point the pain became pleasure and you’re already reaching your release as so as him. His movements start to become rapid with mumbles of “Oh I love yous”, “Should’ve fucked you sooner” and “How have I been resisting all this time”.

“Where’d you want it baby girl? Ah- fuck it,” Satoru forced you to kneel on the floor and opened up your mouth before stuffing his cock back into it. He was close to his release, you figured. With your tongue you drew figure eights onto his cock head repeatedly, hoping it might help him. Just as your tongue went into his slit, that’s where he released his load.

Your eyes were closed at that point with a mouth full of cum. Were you supposed to spit it out or swallow? You weren’t sure so you swallowed all of it down. Tangy, bitter still slightly sweet, hmm.

“That was a bold move, dear,” Satoru said as he came out from the toilet, you were assuming he went to wash his cock off with water. You were embarrassed now, thinking that all forms of relationship have been broken with your lecturer.

“If you had told me that you were a virgin, I wouldn’t have taken it so far you know?” he said as he came closer to you in a soft voice.

“I-I didn’t want to seem inexperienced, I-I hope I came up to your standards, sir…” Satoru looked at you with disapproval as you called him sir. Again.

I'm so stressed from uni...writing is my only escape really. I also have kind of nervous to write the sex scene but I'm reading and trying to, I hope I reach up to my reader's expectations! i also think this fic might end at possibly before it reaches part 10, after sex idk what they're going to do

Update: I got it, here comes drama~

More update: there’s more sexy scenes here LOL

[robinrunsfiction]

Merry Lux-Mas!

Author's Note: Wow, I haven't published anything in a very long time, mainly because I've been working on various things that just never get anywhere closer to being done. This is technically an excerpt of the larger fic that I've been calling The Bandom AU. There was another fic I put up a while back for an OTP challenge that has also been incorporated into that larger fic as well. I suppose I should just jump into this thing, before the note is longer than the fic itself!

~

The band reconvened in Detroit after the brief Thanksgiving break for one last sprint around the country to close out 2004. Lux’s flight from Arizona meant that she didn’t get to ride from the airport to the hotel with the rest of the band, but Shelly’s cheerful face at their shared hotel room door instantly made the travel-related stress melt off the drummer’s shoulders.

“Lux!” The small blonde threw her arms around the drummer, hugging her as if it had been months since they last saw each other, not just over a week.

“Hey Shell,” Lux replied, the air getting squeezed out of her.

“Are you so excited?” Shelly asked, letting her go and bouncing back over to her desk, where all sorts of papers and planners were spread out.

“For the show tomorrow? I guess so, but not like any more than another.”

“No! Your big day!”

Lux took a moment to rack her brain as to what Shelly was talking about, but the look of confusion must have been evident on her face.

“Your birthday, it's coming up in just over a week! What do you want to do for it?” Shelly asked.

Lux dropped her bag on the bed Shelly hadn't claimed. “No it's not.”

“Ye-yes it is?” Shelly replied, starting to flip through the pages of her planner, searching for proof that she was right. 

“I never cared much about it, but I'm pretty sure it's in September.”

“But, I thought it was December 9th! That’s what your drivers license said!”

“Did I give you one of my old fakes? I thought I passed all those on,” Lux said, pulling her wallet out of her backpack. “Nope, just the legit one. 9/12/82.”

“Nine twelve,” Shelly repeated slowly. “Oh no! When I saw the date on your driver's license my brain read it as day, month, year, not month, day, year! I'm so sorry we missed your birthday!”

Lux shrugged as she toed off her sneakers. “Don't worry about it, I hadn't even been in the band a month at that point, you didn't have to do anything for me, y’all hardly even knew me.”

“We could have at least had cake, or whatever treat you wanted!”

Lux perked up for a moment at the mention of cake, before shaking her head. “Really, it's ok, I don't need special attention, or a special day, or anything. Besides, we just had cake on Mikey's birthday right before that! And it was a really good cake!”

“I mean, yes, I do pick good bakers, but is that what you would've wanted?” Shelly asked knowingly.

Lux shrugged. “I dunno, maybe. But it really doesn't matter! I promise it's okay! Now if you don’t mind, I'm gonna take a shower. That flight was especially grody.”

Before Shelly could argue back again, the bathroom door closed behind the drummer. Shelly sighed before she got up and marched across the hall, knocking on the door. As soon as Gerard opened the door, Shelly marched right in.

“What's wrong?” Gerard asked.

“Do you know when Lux's birthday is?”

Gerard and Mikey exchanged looks of confusion with each other. “Umm,” Gerard started.

“I don’t think she’s ever mentioned it,” Mikey shrugged.

“No, but I saw it! I had to copy her driver's license for some paperwork back when she started, and I saw the date was listed as 9/12/1982, but I read it as December 9th.”

“So it was back in September.” Gerard confirmed. 

“Right after mine,” Mikey blurted out with a goofy smile that didn’t go unnoticed by his brother.

“And we didn't do anything to celebrate her! I feel so bad!” Shelly slumped down on the desk chair, putting her head in her hands. 

“Well is she upset?” Gerard asked as he rubbed Shelly’s back sympathetically.

“I don't know. I don't think so? I can't tell, it's so hard to get a read on her! She said she didn't want special attention.”

“That makes sense,” Mikey nodded. “But we could have celebrated together.”

“No! You each deserve your own special days!” Shelly scolded.

“Can we maybe make it up to her?” Gerard asked.

“It would have to be a surprise,” Shelly replied. “I really think she would have been fine letting each year go by without celebrating her.”

“We would notice eventually,” Mikey added. 

“I would hope so,” Shelly shook her head. “I should get back to our room, or she'll suspect something is up if I'm not there when she gets out of the shower.”

The brothers nodded as Shelly left just as swiftly as she arrived.

“We should get her a really good gift,” Mikey suggested. “To make up for missing her birthday.”

“Like what? What does she like or need?” Gerard asked.

Mikey thought for a moment, looking around the room, hoping inspiration would jump up at him. “What about an iPod?”

“An iPod?”

“Yea, Frank always makes fun of her Walkman and how many CDs she carries around. It would make it a lot easier for her.”

Gerard nodded. “Yea, that might work. Let's ask Ray and Frank and see if they'll kick in any money.”

“I can put in more if needed,” Mikey said before even realizing it.

Gerard just nodded and smiled at his brother.

~

A few days later, Lux yawned as she woke up once again in her familiar bunk on the bus. She did tend to be one of the last to get up, so usually there was noise from someone, or something, but today was strangely quiet. Had they arrived in… Wherever the fuck they were going and everyone had left to go explore without her?

“Rude,” she muttered to herself as she slid out of her bunk and trudged her way to the front of the bus, hoping to maybe find someone and a snack, but not expecting-

“Merry Lux-Mas!” The words hit her like a punch in the face.

“What the fuck?!” Lux exclaimed, jumping back, much to the amusement of her bandmates. She looked around the front room, and found it was covered in birthday streamers and balloons. “What the fuck is all this?!”

“An attempt to make up for missing your first birthday in the band!” Shelly explained. “I'm still so sorry I messed that up.”

“It's ok, really!” Lux reassured her. “I said I really don't need a special day or anything!”

“Everyone needs their day,” Ray replied, pulling her in for a hug.

“And not share it,” Mikey smiled. 

“But what if I want to?” Lux pouted back at him before breaking into a laugh. Mikey laughed too, but in the back of his mind, he knew that if Lux ever gave him that pout again, he’d agree to rob a bank for her, or punch a clown, or whatever she asked for. He wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Well that's a problem for next year,” Shelly replied. “For this year, this is your day, all for you.”

“Well thanks,” Lux blushed a little, not entirely comfortable with being so squarely in the middle of all the attention. “Umm, is there maybe…”

“Yes, of course there’s cake,” Shelly answered. “Double chocolate.”

“Sweet! I’m starving,” Lux grinned.

“When are you not?” Frank chidded.

“Frank!” Shelly elbowed him in the ribs.

“Ow!”

“Wait, first we got you a present!” Gerard popped up with a square box in hand.

“Oh come on! I didn't need a gift!”

“Well we wanted to give you one!” Shelly replied, as she cut the cake.

“As a thank you for putting up with us,” Gerard replied, giving Frank a look.

“And a ‘sorry again for missing your real birthday,’” Mikey added. 

Lux sighed as she took the box and unwrapped it. “Do yall really have to watch me?”

“Yes. In fact,” Ray grabbed the camcorder that always seemed to be around. “I’m gonna record it.”

“Nooo,” Lux whined, covering her face with her hands.

“No cake until you open it!” Shelly scolded.

“Ugh fine,” Lux couldn't help but giggle at that. She got back to unwrapping the box, gasping a little as she tore away the last of the paper. “You guys! An iPod?! It's way too much!”

“No it's not,” Gerard replied. “It's from all of us and you deserve it. It was Mikey’s idea.”

“Really?” Lux looked over at Mikey, eyes wide.

“Yea, you just have so many CDs, I thought this might help you travel a little lighter, and it's easier to organize and stuff,” Mikey explained.

“I love organizing my music,” Lux almost murmured, turning the box over in her hands. “Thank you. Seriously, all of you, thank you. If you hadn't picked me back in August, I dunno where I’d be right now. Probably back to living at my Grandparents’ in Arizona trying to get the guys from Jimmy to give me another merch job,” she laughed.

“You saved our asses really,” Frank replied. 

“Yea, I dunno where we’d be if you hadn't auditioned,” Gerard added.

Ray let out a scoff. “Probably still auditioning drummers in hopes we’d find one like you, kid.”

“I am pretty great huh?” Lux beamed, but Shelly could almost see the glint in the younger girl’s eye. She could have sworn Lux was almost about to cry, probably happy tears if she had to guess. But she wouldn’t bring it up, at least not at that moment.

“You are,” Mikey replied quickly, oblivious to the looks being exchanged behind his back by his bandmates.

“Well so are you guys, I don’t hang out with losers.” Lux nodded. “Now can we have some cake please? I'm starving!”

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Blessed Be - Gwynriel One-Shot in Celebration of Gwynweek2023

Gwyn’s future will be bright, I just know it. She is one of the strongest characters in the Acotar fandom, and I can’t wait to see what SJM has in store for her story. That being said, you know I’m a Gwynriel shipper - this one-shot is both a celebration of them getting together, as well as a celebration of Gwyn as she is growing into her skin. 

Day 6: Future; @gwynweekofficial​ 

If you don’t like having religion dragged into any type of sexual situation, this one isn’t for you! In no way am I trying to be disrespectful to any religion or religious practice... I just read too much priest smut lol. 

Warnings: roleplay dynamics (priestess-sinner), bondage, wing play, orgasm denial, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, witnessing me going to hell for this  

Word count: 7k oh my- get comfy

I mean it. Get off if you feel uncomfortable.

��Az, have you seen my veil?”

Gwyneth Berdara, Valkyrie and priestess of the Night court, stood in the center of her and Azriel’s shared bedroom, already clad in the dusty blue layers of her robe, her invoking stone around her neck, hair neatly clipped out of her face. The sun hadn’t yet peeked over the horizon. This time of morning was her favorite – quiet, consoling, the perfect opportunity to cast your gaze inwards and give thanks. She was ready for the dawn service underneath the house of wind to do said things with her sisters – if she could find her veil in time and pin it in place.

Azriel, still in a haze from the night, simply pointed to the bathroom from his place on the bed. This was one of the many perks of living with the Shadowsinger: your missing things never went missing for long.

With a swish of her robes, her auburn hair trailing behind her, she made her way to the bathroom, tracking down her veil with only a little pointer from the shadows. In a few minutes most of her hair was swept behind, only the very front of her hairline a shock of color against the soft, blue fabric. Right in the middle, Gwyn thought with a heavy heart while looking in the mirror, would be the place for her invoking stone. She felt the outline of it now, pressing insistently against the skin of her chest, taunting her with its presence. She hadn’t worn it again after her sister died. She wouldn’t start wearing it now.

Sufficiently pleased with her appearance, Gwyn moved back to her side of the bed with silent steps, not wanting to jostle Azriel out of bed just yet. He technically had more time to sleep before he joined her in training, but he also couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend more time with his mate in the early hours of the morning. Not that Gwyn complained – a sleepy, disheveled Azriel was such a deliciously devilish sight it made her hurry to service every morning without fail.

From the little table perched by the bed she pulled her copy of the Sacred Manuscript, flipping it open to the page she had marked the day before.

Azriel had asked her once why she sometimes studied the Manuscript and prayed in the quiet of her room before doing the same at the official service. Gwyn didn’t really know why – only that some days, her mind rested easier, her focus remained sharper, when she did some extra reading all by herself. Both her forearms perched on the bed, her hands joining together as she knelt before her Gods and Goddesses and gave her gratitude and prayers.

Praying had always been a part of her life. It made you feel small, almost insignificant against the big workings of the universe, in turn lifting some of the stress off your shoulders. At the same time it singled you out, made you feel special and protected wherever you went. She didn’t stop praying after Sangravah. Her Gods hadn’t left her, instead giving her a hardship to overcome with grace and strength.

Azriel sometimes joined her, having never been particularly religious beyond the basic rituals the Illyrians taught their race. Or he would watch with half-closed eyes, waiting for her to be ready and engulfing her in his arms one more time before he started the day himself.

This particular morning, he watched again, his gaze trailing over her face. Gwyn could sense he was more awake than just a second before. The bond pulsing between them was more than clear on that. It was the third or fourth time this week she noticed his unusually focused stare, but thought nothing of it, deep in her own thoughts.

With her mind sufficiently settled, her heart light with divine blessing, she kissed Azriel on the cheek and made her way downstairs, through the library and into the chapel.

If she had lingered one more minute in the bedroom, she’d have noticed the scent now emanating in waves from her mate. He had done his best to keep it contained while she was praying, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from her to save his life. Seeing Gwyn pray has been his very own form of torture this past week, one he could only escape through either feigning sleep, or venturing in the bathroom to take a very long, very cold shower.

Gwyn should gut him for even thinking the depraved thoughts that raced through his mind when he saw her dressed in full priestess attire, one more vivid and consuming than the other. He imagined her standing before him, her robes brushing against his knees as he sank to the ground in front of her. He imagined how she’d either bless him or punish him, and he honestly didn’t know which one he liked better. He imagined her astride of him, her robes discarded save for the invoking stone between her breasts, as she chased her own high – using him and his body for her own pleasure.

His desire burned so deep that he had no other choice than to take care of himself before getting dressed, hating every second of his own hand now that he knew how his mate’s hand felt instead. surely sensed his frustration, followed by a little spike of satisfaction, through the bond. He hoped she wouldn’t comment on it.

Azriel didn’t have to worry. They saw each other only sporadically throughout the day. During training, Gwyn stayed in the advanced group with Cassian while Azriel instructed the never-ending inflow of new recruits – some priestesses, some Illyrian girls straight from the camps. By the time he trudged upstairs to his and Gwyn’s bedroom after a long day of work, he was sure his mate had forgotten all about the mixed emotions she must have felt through the bond this morning.

“Hi, Shadowsinger!”, Gwyn’s melodic voice greeted him the moment he set foot into the room. He liked it. Loved it, even, to now come home to a room filled with love and light.

Azriel stalked through the space in only three steps before reaching the bathroom and finding his rightful place between Gwyn’s legs, who sat perched on the counter of the sink.

The deep, slow kiss he gave her in greeting spoke volumes about how much he missed her, craved her. Taking the edge off this morning apparently did nothing for a male when he was mated to Gwyneth Berdara. Gwyn wrapped her slender arms around his neck, prolonging the kiss. As if she couldn’t get enough either. Mate, mate, mate. His heart sang to hers.

“I like this kind of ‘hello’.”, she smiled against his lips, her fingers tangling through his hair and lightly scratching his scalp.

Azriel closed his eyes at her ministrations, only mumbling his answer in return. “You should wait until I show you how I say ‘I love you’.”

Gwyn snickered. “Hopefully by feeding me cake.”

Azriel opened one of his eyes, playfully glaring at her through it. “A damn cake? Are you really that easy to satisfy, priestess?”

Gwyn stopped her massage, much to Azriel’s chagrin, and placed her hands on his chest instead. “A little sugar goes a long way with me.”, her face neared Azriel’s again, her nose brushing his gently, “And it has a 100% rate of satisfying me. Unlike other things.”

Two scarred hands grabbed hers and flung them away from his chest in mock affront. Gwyn had already started laughing before he could open his mouth in defense. One fucking time of cumming before her, and he never heard the end of it. Even though his mate had gotten her orgasm through other ways after.

“I don’t want you to talk to me for the rest of the evening, Gwyneth.”, he put extra emphasis on her full name, showing her exactly that she overstepped dearly. Menace.

Gwyn just jumped off the counter, sashaying over to where he stood, arms crossed. She cooed at him while stroking his arms. The action could have been described as caring, if it weren’t for the big, shit-eating grin on her face. Azriel flexed when her arms travelled over his biceps. Just a little. Lest she forget that he was more than capable of making her cum.

“Poor baby. Getting so salty when I dare to question his manliness.”, she petted his forearm, “What might I do to make you feel better, my mate?”

Azriel had some suggestions lined up in his mind, the images from this morning right at the forefront. But he couldn’t possibly voice those. Not with her faith, not considering the immense compromise she’s already making by indulging him in some of his kinkier fantasies.

But he didn’t ban the thoughts quick enough. Just this one second of picturing Gwyn dominating him and his heartrate spiked, his scent with it. Gwyn noticed. She was too damn observant these days.

“Ohh.”, she breathed out, her head angled to the side and searching his face for answers. “That was what I felt this morning. It’s your scent, but muted. Why would you mute your scent from me?”

Gwyn had noticed the weird behavior from her mate. Noticed the prolonged stares and his quick change in demeanor when she caught onto him. But she was his love. If one person might deal with that kind of thing, it was her. The self-doubt started creeping up on her slowly, but surely.

“I just didn’t want you to be late for your service.”, Azriel said quietly. But the answer had taken him too long for her liking. What if he didn’t want her anymore and rather satisfied himself? Gwyn was more than elated with that side of their relationship, even venturing out beyond anything she could have imagined for herself. But was he?

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Are you unhappy with the way we are intimate?”

His face crumpled, she noticed with relief. He hides genuine emotion slower, or he doesn’t hide it at all with her. “Are you kidding me, Gwyn? Of course not!”

His arms uncrossed from his chest, instead drawing Gwyn into a hug. “I’ve never been happier my whole life. And that goes for all aspects of this relationship.” He kissed the top of her hair.

Gwyn was happy to hear that, especially considering that she had to ‘compete’ against an army of past lovers. But it didn’t explain his behavior. “I’m glad. But why did you suppress it then? I could have gone to service, then meet you before training.”

Azriel signed, contemplating, while his hands brushed up and down her back. After a while, he took a deep breath, and Gwyn was slightly scared at what was about to come out of her mate’s mouth.

“I was fantasizing about you in a different way. Didn’t want you to find out. Because you might have discovered the root of that fantasy if you paid attention.”

Gwyn furrowed her brows, craning her neck to look at her Shadowsinger. “Since when are you hesitant to voice fantasies?”

Sure, he was a private person. But not with her. And given the track record of her agreeing with whatever thing he wanted to try, he shouldn’t be hiding it. Gwyn scolded herself for the thought the second she had it. Just because he was her mate and usually open with any act of intimacy didn’t mean he owed her an answer for everything. Before he could indulge her in a reply, she stepped out of the hug, shaking her head. “I apologize. I don’t want to press you for answers if you are not ready to give them.”

She had already turned to go to bed when his rough hand found hers, gently tugging her back. His features were still set in contemplation, his mind probably working on the mildest way to communicate his wishes. “The sight of you praying,” he started carefully, “and the way you dress for services, that’s what triggered it.”

Gwyn’s breath caught in her throat. Never would she have thought that that was the reason for his fantasy. She raised her brow in question, hoping he’d elaborate.

“I was thinking about how – Gods, this is more difficult than I though.”, he chuckled to himself. Gwyn didn’t understand. The outfit she wore was common, modest. And she had worn it often, even before they were mated.

“Remember the book you read last week? About the couple who pretended to be boss and employee and then had sex while pretending?”, he asked instead. Now Gwyn was utterly confused.

“Yes?”, she said, flushing a bit at the memory of that book. And Azriel teasing her with its contents.

“Well, it’s like that. A kind of roleplay. Just instead of boss and employee, it would be priestess and parishioner.”, he started to speak faster now, as if he wanted to get as much of his thoughts out before she stopped him. “Usually it involves a dominant-submissive dynamic. In this case you’d be the dominant part. And you’d be wearing you priestess attire during the play. I know it’s weird and probably violates your faith in ways I can’t even imagine, but that’s what it was. I didn’t mean to hide it because of trust reasons, I only meant to save myself from embarrassment.”

Gwyn stopped his rambling with a raised hand, eyes wide. “Allow me to clarify: seeing me in my robe and veil turns you on and you’d like to have me dominate you while wearing them?”

Azriel nodded slowly, searching Gwyn’s face and the bond for any signs of judgement – be it good or bad.

“And it would be within a roleplay that made you a parishioner, and me your priestess?”

“Essentially.”, one of his beautiful hands reached back to scratch his neck. She never saw him display so many signs of nerves before. Never.

“I’m sorry. I’ll never bring it up again. I already feel better now that you know, and I’ll get it out of my system eventually.”, he pecked her cheek, conversation ended, and headed to change for bed himself.

Gwyn was still stunned, not quite knowing how to deal with it. She was thankful he didn’t press her for any thought either, because she had too many. She was flattered, confused, and intimidated all at once. That he wanted to use her faith that way didn’t bother her. After all, the Mother and her Gods supported sexual freedom among the priestesses, and that surely extended to the religion itself. But was she ready to command a force of nature like Azriel in bed?

She wanted to laugh at the mental image of her restraining him, taunting him like he had done so many times now. But the laughter never came. Instead, a wave of warmth filled her stomach, spreading through her chest and core. The longer she allowed herself to dwell on it, the easier the request settled within her.

When she lay in bed next to her mate after her evening routine, the room already painted in the comforting darkness of night, she was sure she could do it. At least to some capacity. “Azriel?”

“Mh?”

“I was thinking.”, she started, her voice quiet but determined, “I could do it. Be your priestess, I mean.”

She felt Azriel sit up straight next to her, the mental link to him going just as taunt as his body.

“You could?”, was all he asked, angling his powerful form in her direction to seek her gaze through the shadows.

“Well, maybe with a tiny modification?”

-

And that’s how, with some days of mental preparation, Gwyn found herself in front of the bathroom mirror, veiling herself like she normally would. She had tied her robes, like she normally did, her invoking stone resting against her chest. All perfectly normal.

What was hidden underneath the robe, though, was anything but.

Azriel and her had agreed, at the end, that they’d both switch between dominant and submissive. Her mate would start off in his signature role, then easing Gwyn into her power. They’d agreed on a vague storyline, too, and had spoken about some rules. Azriel’s eyes had been practically glowing when he talked her through his fantasy, growing more and more excited with every affirmative nod Gwyn gave. He had truly looked like a child on winter solstice. And after they were done discussing, he had undressed her slowly and reverently, and made love to her until they both fell asleep, tangled in each other’s embrace.

As Gwyn looked at herself once more in the mirror, she couldn’t help her own excited smile. As unusual as this would be for her, making her mate happy like that did something for her in return. And the fact that she had an ace up her sleeve helped with the nerves too.  

She knew he was coming before the door creaked open, his heady scent cutting though the chill winter night. His shadows were first to reach her, as always, winding up her bejeweled wrist in silent greeting.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she faced her Shadowsinger.

He was leaning against the wall, clad in his usual all black attire, hair slightly disheveled from his day of work. Everything about him seemed perfectly normal, too. Everything but his eyes.

His gaze was intense, set on her form the second she stepped over the threshold, raking over her body in anticipation. Months ago, she’d have cowered under attention like that, especially from someone as powerful as him. Now, her spine straightened and her lips curled. Plan or not, she already had the upper hand right now, and she felt the power surge through every cell of her being.

She hadn’t even shown him the main attraction yet.

“What a pleasure to welcome you here, Shadowsinger.”, Gwyn greeted him in her best soft and demure voice. She tried to simulate the melody her High Priestess took on during rituals – feminine, but confident. “To what do I owe the honor?”

Azriel smiled for a split second, unable to keep his emotions hidden for once. Then, his features shifted into the cold mask of the Shadowsinger, and with a few self-assured steps, he stood right in front of Gwyn.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve received the blessing of a priestess.”, he spoke his part of their little play, voice already going raspy, “Especially from one as beautiful as you.” His scarred hand found her cheek, cradling her face in its warmth and comfort.

His words struck a chord in Gwyn that she was unable to name. The way he looked at her, like she was his salvation and only purpose in life, made her heart race. Azriel had a way with making her feel special, beautiful. Even before they were mated, his words helped in building up her confidence. Now, with him practically eating her up with his eyes… Gwyn smiled a little innocent smile.

And then grabbed his wrist with unrelenting strength. “I wasn’t aware that I allowed you to touch me, Shadowsinger.”

Surprise flitted across his face at her words and as she forced his hand off her face. Then, taking a respectful step back, he said. “I apologize, priestess.”

“Mh.”, Gwyn assumed a pensive look, stepping forward, which in turn made Azriel take another step back. Her hand found his chest, pushing him further until his back hit the wall, wings shifting to accommodate.

It was strange, how this massive male was so easily controlled by the priestess. Gwyn had to admit that she loved every second of it.

“Azriel Shadowsinger – I know it is a blessing that you seek,”, her fingertips travelled feather-light across the expanse of his chest as she spoke, “but given your rather infamous reputation, I think our Mother deserves a confession before she is ready to give the salvation you came here for.”

Gwyn stopped, looking at his face for any signs of discomfort, checking if this change of plans was okay with him. What she saw was a Shadowsinger in awe, eyes wide and focused like a doe in the headlights. She took the time to check if he was still breathing. And then, the connection between them opened, their bond pulsing with his need and her excitement. He must have had a dampener on it until now, only releasing it so Gwyn knew exactly how much he wanted this, needed this. “You’ll get anything you want from me, priestess.”

He made it easy for her then.

“But I’m afraid I have nothing to confess.”

Or not. Doing anything with Azriel was a struggle for dominance, she should have known he was in the mood to make her work for it. Admittedly, she did that to him from time to time too. Well, a lot of the time. Gwyn eyed up his Shadows who were watching raptly, waiting for something to happen. And a plan formed.

“Nothing?”, Gwyn whispered, raising on her tiptoes to make her lips brush lightly over his, eyes never breaking their contact. For all his defiance, he didn’t dare move to kiss her. “How disappointing.”

She nodded to his Shadows, praying they got her intention right. And in a split second, Azriel was moved from the wall to the foot of the bed, facing the room. His arms spread up to either side, restrained by his very own shadows. The tunic he was previously wearing seemed to have been lost in the process too.

Gwyn barely suppressed her smile. She was going to have the time of her life with this.

“I guess that some people need a little push to face their sins.”, she said, her eyes travelling languidly over his tanned, tattooed skin. Her hands reached for the ties of his trousers, daftly starting to work on them.

Azriel got cocky now, sure that if Gwyn untied his trousers, she’d find a way to ‘punish him’ using her mouth on him. What he didn’t know was that Gwyn anticipated that thought and had no plans whatsoever to be the one kneeling tonight.

“Like I told you, priestess, I have no sins to confess. As much as I would like to please you.”

Gwyn stopped her movement on his laces. She worked them open just enough to make a little room for the rock-hard length they retained, but didn’t touch him otherwise. Then she fell back, out of reach, sitting on the edge of their small armchair.

With steady hands, she untied the belt that held together her robes around her waist. And when the fabric slid to either side, revealing the lace underneath it, Azriel looked like he regretted his sassiness very much.

Gwyn had put on a light blue bodysuit underneath, basically see-through despite the delicate scraps of lace. The leg was cut so high, her hips were practically naked, showing off her long legs. Her invoking stone completed the look, resting perfectly between her breasts.

Some shadows came slithering forward, dragging the heavy robe off her shoulder completely.

Azriel let out a raspy sound at the sight of her that sounded suspiciously like a whimper, hazel orbs flying over her form nearly frantically.

“I take that back-“

Gwyn just raised a hand, and Azriel fell silent once more. “You will not be allowed to speak to me unless I allow it.”

Azriel swallowed, then nodded. She wasn’t sure he blinked even once after she let the robe fall open for him.

With a newfound confidence and grace, Gwyn pushed herself off the chair, swaying her hips on the way over to her bound Shadowsinger. She let her fingernails scratch over his abs, grazing the hairs that led to the part of him he desperately wanted her to touch. After giving him a lingering kiss on the neck, right where his shoulder joined a strong column of muscle, she gave her first order of the night. “Spread your wings for me, Azriel.”

He gaped at her, pupils blowing impossibly wide. And then his mighty wings started moving, expanding to either side of him, baring the sensitive membrane for Gwyn to command.

Gwyn hummed at the sight, letting her nails travel up and over his shoulder, reaching for the wing behind. “They are so pretty, aren’t they?”

With another quick agreement between her and his shadows, Gwyn suddenly stood on the bed behind Azriel, in full view of his wings, the feather he sometimes used for writing in her hand. She let the softest part of it touch the place where his wings connected to his back, brushing it up and down gently.

“So strong and beautiful.”, she murmured, letting the feather caress every inch of skin and membrane. The tips of his wings twitched already, Azriel’s breathing going irregular. Gwyn smiled to herself. “But so sensitive.”

She leaned forward, pressing kisses along the skin connecting his wings to his back, sometimes letting her tongue dart out to give it a little lick. Then, she honed in on his left wing, dragging her fingertips along the endless expanse of membrane.

Before her, Azriel let out a ragged breath. “Gwyn, please.”

Gwyn stopped her movement. A few minutes in and he was already begging? “I didn’t know we were on a first name basis.” Her hand wrapped around the strong column of his neck from her position behind him, squeezing slightly and leaning forward. Her lips poised right by his ear, she whispered, “You will address me as ‘priestess’. Any deviation will lead to a punishment. Did I make myself clear?”

Azriel nodded, as best as he could while his neck was held by her. But Gwyn decided he needed to taste his own medicine. Squeezing harder, she added, “I asked you a question, Shadowsinger.”

She felt him swallow beneath her palm, then his voice vibrated along her hand. “I understand, priestess.”

A little kiss on his neck as a reward, then Gwyn was back to teasing his wings. Alternating between the feather, her fingers and her lips, the priestess covered the whole expanse of his wings with attention. She honed in on the extra sensitive parts, dragging her nails over them again and again until the skin of his back was covered in goosebumps. Gwyn was sure he was close to cumming about two to three times, but whenever he started to shake and moan the priestess quickly withdrew her fingers. Need pulsed through the bond with an intensity she never expected. Just as he started to sag slightly, his Shadows having to hold him up, Gwyn decided to play nice for a second.

“I think I am ready to hear your confession, now, sinner.”

His head shot up, sensing his opportunity to cum. With his voice low and breathy, he finally played his part. “I – I confess to having depraved thoughts. I confess that I never needed anything more in my life than to fuck this special priestess of mine. Even though I am not sure she wants it as well.”  

Gwyn’s own blood boiled at the admission. Probably because it was definitely not something he thought of just now. “That sounds sinful indeed. Tell me, Shadowsinger, have these thoughts been weighing heavy and hard on you?”

“They did – they do. Please, priestess. Relieve me of them.”, he ground out, probably sensing her own arousal through the bond as well. She needed to be careful with unbinding him, she thought as he started to tremble with need.

“With the Mother’s blessing, so will you be relieved.”, she whispered against his neck, giving it a few lingering kisses before resuming her caresses on his wings. His talons, sitting perched at the top of them, deserved some special treatment. She moved her mouth over to his right talon, brushing her lips over the hard surface. A swear escaped Azriel at the touch.

He had told her once that the talon might as well be the equivalent to his cock. If handled gently, he’d be able to cum just from that. Gwyn was about to test that theory.

Enclosing her mouth completely over the talon, she started to suck. Her tongue swirled over it, licking up and down and coating it in salvia. She knew it didn’t take long now. After just a few seconds of gentle sucking, he came undone. As Gwyn peeked over Azriel’s shoulder, she saw him explode, muscles contracting from head to toe and cumming right into his trousers.

He panted heavily, barely hanging onto the shadowy restraints. If this is what Azriel felt like whenever he made her cum in a vulnerable position like that, she began to understand his preferences.

Moving around the Illyrian to face his front again, Gwyn cupped his face with both of her hands and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, reaffirming her love to him without having to use her words. Azriel looked up to her, hazel eyes molten and wet with unshed tears. She flashed him an alarmed glance at the sight – the bond hadn’t informed her of any pain or discomfort despite the obvious frustration. Azriel just grinned back, shaking his head slightly. Warmth and love seeped through the bond – I’m okay, it seemed to whisper to her.

“The shadows will release you now. You’ll get rid of the rest of your clothes as soon as they do.”, stepping back, voice again going firm, she watched as the shadows did as she commanded. Azriel had regained most of his strength back and went to work as his hands were freed.

Gwyn moved over to the chair, sprawling on it with an ease she didn’t really feel. Especially after seeing Azriel’s length spring free, slapping against his stomach as he was either aroused again or never really stopped being aroused, she felt more than hot and more than ready to give in. But he would make her work for it harder, so that’s exactly what she was going to do to him, too.

Raising her hand, she moved her pointer finger in a ‘come hither’ motion. Azriel obeyed, if not dragging his feet at bit to be annoying. When he stood right in front of her, her finger simply pointed downward. The command was clear, and the Shadowsinger sank onto his knees before the priestess.

It was a sight to behold. The mountain of a male, scars littering his skin and power pulsing in every inch of him, had his head bowed in reverence, his hands resting on his knees. Between them, his hardness still looked to be kind of painful, oozing pre-cum that mixed with the actual cum from before. She didn’t allow him to clean himself, but he didn’t seem to mind too much. He waited, preternaturally still.

“Aren’t you so good for me?”, she said gently, watching his cock twitch at her words. Gwyn leaned forward, spreading her legs to enclose the Shadowsinger’s form inbetween her. Her hand sneaked out to lift his chin, his eyes instantly finding hers.

“I think you deserve a reward, mh?”

Azriel nodded slightly, lips parted.

“What do you wish for?”, she asked, feeling extra generous. His damned face did that to her. She didn’t understand how he stayed so firm and harsh when the roles were reversed.

Azriel’s eyes travelled from her face, all the way down her body, to her wet core. “May I please you, priestess?”

Gwyn’s own breath turned ragged at his words, her heartbeat quickening. She hadn’t even noticed her own need, so absorbed in every moved of his. But she tried to attain a façade of boredom when she nodded and scooted forward, right to the edge of the chair. “Make me cum.”

Azriel’s hands came forward to wrap around her calves, gently nudging her legs open even more. Then his lips began to trail a way from the inside of her knees all the way across her inner thighs. He was so soft, so reverend in the way he caressed her skin. Repeating the motion on her other leg, he began stroking his hands up and down her calves. Until his face was poised right in front of her core.

“Go ahead, Shadowsinger. Be good to me.”, Gwyn breathed, hopefully sounding more in charge of the situation as she felt.

His nostrils flared, probably taking in her considerable wetness. And then, he started kissing her. Gwyn’s whole upper body fell back on the chair, only her hips remaining in place to receive his attention. Even though his lips and her skin were separated by the thin layer of lace, she felt every brush of his mouth, his heat, on her. It sent fireworks right up her spine. After a few seconds, her bodysuit was already soaked, revealing the outline of her pussy to him.

He honed in on her clit, sucking it in between his teeth and then resuming his languid, open-mouthed kisses on her. Gwyn’s hand found it’s way to his hair, pressing him into her further. Azriel groaned into her wetness, applying more pressure now.

After another minute of the delicious torture, she reached for the fabric covering her crotch and pulled it aside. “Another reward.”

The next touch of his tongue nearly undid her all by itself. Azriel wasted no time, licking up and down her slit, circling and sucking her clit with never-ending patience. He grabbed onto her ankles and brough both of her legs to rest on his shoulder while he worked her expertly, drawing little moans and whimpers out of her in the process. His hot tongue eventually found her entrance, circling it and dipping in ever so slightly. Gwyn was so wet, she probably stained the chair underneath her.

As he began plunging his tongue deep inside her, stroking her inner walls, his hand came up to her core as well, rubbing her clit in tandem with his mouth fucking her. Gwyn was completely gone at this point and only needed one, two more brushes of his tongue to come undone.

With a loud moan, her walls spasming around his tongue, Gwyn arched her back off the chair and came right into his mouth. Azriel’s answering moan vibrated along her pussy, drawing out her own release even longer. It might have been the most intense orgasm she’d ever had. When she couldn’t take the stimulation anymore, she shoved Azriel’s face away from her.

“Go-“, forming words had become hard for the priestess, “Go and lie on the bed.”

Azriel stood on slightly shaky legs, obeying without any show of resistance this time. Gwyn took it as a sign that he was just as far gone as her, but she needed another moment to collect herself, to not break character and just let him manhandle her for the rest of the night.

After her breath had returned to normal, her desire muted but not gone, she stood from the chair herself. She peeled the bodysuit off her skin, now only wearing the stone and her veil.

Azriel waited for her patiently, lying on his back, wings spread underneath him. As Gwyn crawled up over his legs, her body brushed his cock, forcing a curse out if his mouth at the contact.

Gwyn tutted at him, now straddling him without connecting their intimate parts. “I don’t care for your filthy words, not when you are about to receive what you came here for.”

The Shadowsinger took her in now, completely bare on top of him. She must have looked possessed at this point, skin flushed with desire and heat, eyes glowing. Whatever he saw in her made him swallow again. “Please, priestess.”

Gwyn smiled down at him, brushing his sweat soaked hair from his face and caressing his cheek. She leaned down to connect their lips in a searing kiss, her tongue stroking his. When she drew back, a wicked thought crossed her mind.

“Shadowsinger”, she started and waited before he trained his eyes on her, visibly fighting with himself to remain submissive and not just fuck into her, “Do you know the prayer of forgiveness?”

The Shadowsinger nodded, biting his lip. If she’d have asked him for the moon on a string in that moment, he’d have flown up to the sky in seconds.

“Then recite it for me, for our Goddess. So that you might find your blessing.”

She smiled, actually curious if he’d remember.

“Holy Mother, blessed be-“, he started with a shaky voice.

“Stop.”, Gwyn’s fingers danced on his chest as he tried so hard to pray for her. “Be loud and clear, my love. Otherwise you have to start over.”

Azriel ground out a breath that would have been a curse had he not a little slither of control left.

“Holy Mother,” he started again, this time firmer, “blesses be Your divine power and blessed be the fruit of thy womb”

“Good”, Gwyn murmured absentmindedly. Then she sank down on his cock, not taking it in her yet but rather between her lower lips, rocking back and forth. Azriel lost it immediately, stopping his prayer and moving his hips at the first bit of friction he received all night. Gwyn shot him a stern look that made him go still immediately, letting his priestess control the movement.

“I justly deserve to be cast away from Thy presence.”, he continued, eyes switching between being closed in pleasure and cast up towards Gwyn’s face and body. “Yet-“

Gwyn sat up again, grabbing his slick cock with her hand and positioning it at her entrance. “Yet?”

Azriel fought for dear life. “Yet out of Your abundant love and mercy-“

Gwyn sank down on him, engulfing his length in her heat completely. She let out a loud moan while Azriel practically shouted the last word at her, abs contracting and shaking with restraint and pleasure. That she spread his own cum in herself probably didn’t help his situation either.

“You were saying?”, Gwyn giggled, breathless but so incredibly full it made her happy.

“Mercy.”, was all he said, before his memory gave out. The priestess was a forgiving female though.

“I pray for Forgiveness for my sins.”, she recited for him, slowly rocking back and forth and driving him absolutely insane.

Azriel repeated after her, then remembered the last bit of the prayer himself. Gwyn guessed it was some kind of survival mode that kicked in at this point.

“Let your wisdom pierce my heart, and let my heart be changed.”, he prayed quickly and with a voice close to gravel. “Please...”

His eyes found Gwyn’s, and if she hadn’t thought he looked at her like she was the Goddess he prayed to, she sure as hell did now.

“Please cleanse me, Gwyneth, with your sweet love.”

This was the last straw. Gwyn moaned loudly, now moving on his cock in earnest. Azriel’s head fell back on the sheets, done with his work, and let her use him – give him as much as she wanted and deigned appropriate. The priestess felt every ridge and vein of his proud length in her as she rode him with abandon, her necklace and breasts moving with her passion.

“Azriel, touch me.”, she groaned, already reaching for his hands and placing them on her body herself, too impatient to let his slow mind process her words on his own.

It didn’t take long for Gwyn to feel the pressure building in her lower belly, coiling tighter and tighter with every bounce on his cock. She was impressed that her Shadowsinger held it together that long when she knew he must be close as well, and had been close for the past half-hour.

“Gwyn, please.”, he pleaded from underneath her, now tilting his lips in time with hers, chasing his own high.

“Cum, Shadowsinger.”, her last command of the night was barely spoken when Azriel arched his back, shouting profanities and her name into the room and coating her insides with his essence. That was all Gwyn needed to feel before she, too, released the tightness within her. Gasping and panting for air, she let herself fall onto his chest, her head finding the crock of his neck to rest.

She felt to spent, so completely elated she might as well be floating on air. She watched with rapt attention how Azriel’s chest went from frantic movement to the slow and steady rise and fall she was used to. Then, she raised her head. “Why don’t we take a nice bath, mh?”

The house was listening in it seemed, as she heard the faucet turn on in the neighboring room. With care and slowness, she raised herself off Azriel, his cum trickling out of her and down her thighs. The feeling made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Gwyn went to pee quickly, then returned to the room.

The Shadowsinger hadn’t moved, just lying on his back with his eyes closed. Which was so untypical it alarmed Gwyn slightly. He needed some aftercare, and quickly, it seemed.

She leaned down to press soft kisses all over his face and chest, before grabbing his hand and tugging him up. When he finally glanced at her and moved his tired body to sit on the edge of the bed, Gwyn shimmied in-between his legs.

“You were fantastic, Az. So perfect.”, she cooed, hugging him into her so his face rested against her upper belly. Gwyn’s hands caressed every inch of skin she could find until his own hands came up to wind around her. “Thank you.”, he murmured against her, “Thank you for this.”

Gwyn untangled herself from him, tugging him to the bathroom in silent answer.

She spent a long while washing his body and hair, stopping here and there to give out kisses freely. If he had looked at her like a child on winter solstice when she agreed to do this, he now looked at her like she single handedly cured the world of all evil.

When they lay in bed that night, cuddled so closely they might as well melt into one another, Azriel seemed to have gained control over his mind once more.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”, he said, arms tightening around her naked body.

Gwyn grinned into his chest. “Ask the Mother next time you pray to her, she might answer with that level of devotion you displayed today.”

Azriel just snorted. Then fell quiet once more.

“I love you, Shadowsinger.”, Gwyn admitted.

A kiss to her forehead before he answered, “I love you more.”

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

FOUND FAMILY LUCY & THE GHOUL SUPREMACYYYY!!! your fic is perfect in every way… a shining beacon of light in these dark times. idk if you’re going to write a long story with them or anything but i fucking love your mind and already know i wld be eager to read whatever you might write about them <3 !!

thank you! i'm a found family bitch til the day i die, i simply cannot help it. i am technically working on a full length fic with them, but i'm not sure if/when i'll ever string it all together into something coherent lmao

but hey, here's a scene in the meantime!

-

About halfway through their journey to Las Vegas, nearly perfectly sandwiched between a week’s worth of miserable walking to the west and another week’s worth of miserable walking to the east, they stumbled upon a small town in the middle of the desert that called itself Delta. There was a sign and everything—a really old one with faded grayish lettering on faded reddish stone, all of it bearing more than a few well-worn cracks. But there was also a painted sun on it, half a shining sun rising above the town’s name like it was just peeking over to say hello, and that sun was almost still yellow.

Someone must have cared enough to maintain it, she thought, even just a little, and something about that felt important.

Lucy never bothered mentioning any of this to her companion, of course. He probably would have blown it off as nothing if she did, especially if his standoffishness ever since they entered the town was any indication.

Speaking of which.

She shifted, turning over onto her side on the twin bed she’d rented for the night—a real bed, and after so many nights of sleeping in the sand, she wasn’t even turned off by the musty smell of these sheets—and she wound her arm underneath the poorly stuffed pillow for some extra support, looking across the little motel room. He was still sitting up on his own bed, one knee bent up and his gun propped up against his thigh, and he was still looking at the door.

When she moved, though, it did get his attention. He glanced in her direction and frowned, as if to ask, What the hell are you looking at?

“You know,” she said, before he could say that out loud or tell her to go to sleep, “we’re not in the middle of the desert anymore.”

“Is that right? ‘Cause I could’ve sworn—”

“We’re not out in the open in the middle of the desert anymore,” she cut him off, rolling her eyes. “I’m just saying, we don’t really have to take turns sleeping tonight. We’ve got a door. With a lock. You could actually go to sleep, too.”

“Mm,” was all he said to that, and he returned his focus to the door.

Lucy sighed, and she rolled over onto her back, frowning at the ceiling. She really didn’t know what his issue was. This town was actually nice. Don’t get her wrong, it wasn’t like anyone had rolled out a red carpet for them and sprinkled flower petals at their feet, but no one here had shot at them, no one had tried to steal from them, no one had even said anything particularly mean to them. The woman who owned this motel—a lady named Josie who might have been fifty or might have been a very healthy ninety for all Lucy could tell—had barely even spared either of them a second glance, let alone turned him away for being a ghoul, and they were even allowed to bring Dogmeat into the room with them for an extra ten caps.

She folded her hands over her stomach and tucked her toes under Dogmeat’s side. Dogmeat didn’t seem to mind; she just let out a soft groan, stretching her legs out and settling back down with a sigh.

“Not everyone is trying to kill us,” Lucy said. “I know a lot of people are, but not everyone is.”

“Is that right.”

“Yes! Some people really do just want to help others. There are good samaritans out there. Just because you don’t see them very often doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

“You wanna bet on that?”

“Yeah, actually. I will.”

“Go on, then. What’s your startin’ bid?”

She thought about that for a moment. She was certain that she was right about this, but technically, given that they were walking through a desert from one end to the other, they weren’t likely to run into very many people, period, so the odds weren’t exactly in her favor.

Finally, she offered, “One bottle cap.”

He actually huffed a laugh at that, and when she turned her head, she saw half an amused smile on his face. “One whole cap, huh? You better watch yourself. You go making gambles that big and you gon’ be broke as a joke before we even hit Vegas.”

She shrugged, looking back up at the ceiling. “It’s more about the bragging rights than the money anyway.”

“That so?”

“Yep.”

“Well, now, no one here in Delta counts, y’know,” he said, “seeing as we paid ‘em for the help.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair,” she admitted. “But even if they’re only helping us because we paid them, they are helping us. Right? That’s something. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t see any of these people breaking down the door in the middle of the night after that. I don’t even see why they would want to.”

He was quiet for a moment.

He was quiet, actually, for long enough that Lucy felt the need to look at him again. When she did, she found him exactly as he was before, looking straight ahead at the door in exactly the same way he’d been doing since they got to their room over an hour ago. Something had changed just a tiny bit, though—it was in his eyes, like he wasn’t looking at the door so much as he was looking through it. He was thumbing the safety on his gun, though not enough to switch it on, and she wondered if he was only doing it to remind himself that it was off in the first place.

Finally, quietly, he said, “People always got their reasons, Vaultie.”

Lucy blew out a raspberry through her lips and pouted, looking up at the ceiling again.

It was true, of course, that she didn’t know even half of the terrible things that people up on the surface were capable of—actually, no, that wasn’t fair. Not just people on the surface. As it turned out, she didn’t know even half of the terrible things that anyone was capable of, up here braving the radioactive wasteland or tucked safely away in a Vault or anywhere in between.

But even knowing all that, even knowing the sort of terrible things that certain circumstances could drive a person to do, she had to believe that most people still had something altruistic and selfless and good underneath.

Deep underneath, in some cases.

Very, very… very deep underneath.

“Okay,” she conceded, because there was a time and a place for debates about the nature of humanity, and this probably wasn’t it. There was also a certain type of person that it was worth having said debates with, and it almost certainly wasn’t him. She pulled her feet out from underneath Dogmeat, and she turned over, putting her back to the ghoul and his gun and the locked door. “Wake me up in six hours?”

“You know I’m gonna.”

She half-buried her face in the pillow, waiting for the exhaustion of ten-plus hours of walking to finally take her under.

She didn’t have to wait long.