#also real proud of the eyes i love the obey me direction with having a highlight color that very saturated but compliments the eye colors

[oddcrypt1d]

Reach out, Touch Faith

[vhagarlovebot]

this is just me rambling about aemond’s personality. i see a lot of people saying he’s cruel just for the sake of it when there is so much more. if you read it, thank u. <3

aemond targaryen can be though, scary and agressive, very challenging too. you only need to look at the prince to know that. he exudes authority and confidence, everyone respects him because he has earned that. he’s determinated to get what he wants and we see that when he claims vhagar (the abuse he suffered has a lot to do with that), and he’s very aware that he is the best option to be king, not his brother. because he’s the one who studies history and philosophy, he’s the one who trains with the sword, he’s the one who rides the largest dragon in the world. not the drunkard of his brother who does not want the throne, who begged him to let him run away. aemond knows his brother should not be the king but he supports him, he supports his mother, his family; that’s why he did not do anything, he really thought about his words because then he would’ve the opportunity to claim the throne but what he wants is not a priority. duty means a lot to him. he has been raised that way.

aemond is controlling, he wants people to obey him, he likes to give orders and use people to get what he wants, what he needs. other people emotions (outside his family) do not matter to him (not much) if he has a goal in mind.

aemond can be impulsive, bold and direct. but aemond is also hurt, he was abused and bullied as a child, he lost an eye, and you can’t get over it like it does not matter, it’s not something easy to forget, it doesn’t have to be. he did what he did in that moment (the dinner-pig moment) because it was the only right way to react for him. he’s traumatized and angry, he wants someone to pay, but he also did it out of impulse, because he was fucking angry. and it wasn’t just for that specific moment, he’s been carrying that anger since he was a child, bullied by his own brother and nephews.

aemond can be all this things but he’s also someone who just wants to make his mother, his family, proud. he’s craving the praise because growing up no one, besides his mother, acknowledged him. he felt the need to prove himself and everyone around that he could be well-educated, always studying and learning everything he could. that he could also be the best swordsman in the seven kingdoms; he tried to compensate not having a dragon by doing all those things.

the abuse he suffered forced him to hide under that “scary prince look”, when deep down aemond is caring and attentive. he has so much to give but no one to give to. he loves his mother, he would do anything for her, she’s the only one who has always defended him, she was the only one to show him some kind of love. his father never loved or cared about him, his siblings suffered the same as him, so aemond does not know much about love, or how to be affectionate. he only knows cruelty and pain.

aemond wasn’t raised to hate his nephews. they forced him to hate them themselves by the way they always mocked and bullied him. aemond even tried to be there for jace and be friendly at laena’s funeral but it was jace who gave him the cold shoulder. it was also viserys fault, always showing his preference for rhaenyra and her children, it was his own mother and her rivalry with rhaenyra. it was also luke’s fault, taking away an important part of him. it was not aemond’s fault he grew up feeling the way he feels about them.

then what are you expecting from a boy who was so wronged like aemond? be fucking for real and realize how complex aemond targaryen really is. he’s not the way he is just because, there are a lot of fucking reasons.

[inpursuitofmeaning]

March 16, 2024

This morning, I went cycling by myself. 6 30 am, free from preying eyes, I still obeyed traffic laws. I truly am a saint. Oh - by the way - I did it! I biked across the border into Gatineau Park - just like I promised myself! It has been 2 years of avoiding that route (and granted, the new bridge opening that connects to the bike paths made it easier than it would have been in the past) - but I am still so proud. First ride out ~check-mark noise~, and did a route that scared me ~check-mark noise~. It was scary, and I was nervous, but as soon as I got to the bridge, I saw the sunset rising above Parliament, saw the reflection of pink and orange on the water, and, truth be told, was very grateful to be alive. At that moment, I felt like I could accomplish anything, including handling the problems that made my yesterday shit and dissuaded me from writing my daily log.

I look a bid disheveled in this picture for obvious reasons.

To be honest, I didn't really feel like writing about how I messed up hydrating my primers in the lab, or how I dropped some on the floor (shhh, it's a secret), or how I got really overwhelmed when learning qPCR, or how my specimens didn't even have latent viruses after all. That sounds like a good thing - and it is, I suppose - however, now I might need to pivot my entire PhD. I also did some critical thinking (for once, shocker) and realized I might not be going in the right direction with my project. I might need to object to a direction that my supervisors are pushing me, and overall am feeling really defeated. I also am unsure where to even begin studying for my committee meeting. But before we get all down about that - let's be in the moment just a little longer. I did the scary bike, and in that moment of bliss, I was at peace.

To be honest, the shit day was what gave me the courage to actually go for the ride. Instead of staying up late working, like I often do, I was so sad that I couldn't bring myself to work. Instead, I set an early alarm and distracted myself with the idea of a romantic early morning bike ride. It worked, and I feel a little calmer.

After the bike ride, Hunter, my wonderful partner, took me on such a lovely cafe date. I got a tea, and he got a hot chocolate. Everything was warm, and everything was right. And in that moment, I was very happy to be alive.

Émile, my French lab mate, and Sophie, blond Godess of the cattle, also gave me some great advice about my project.

"I also messed up making my primers today so I'm lying on the floor in my living room staring into the void" I texted them. "No void staring! The primers got what was coming to them" Sophie responded. I sent a close up of me starting at the camera "POV: Youre the void" I responded. "Qpcr sucks anyways" Émile chimed. "Agreed, made up black magic" I responded. "I'm going to go back to my farming simulator game and farm some REAL crops", I continued. [insert filler discussion between Emile, Sophie and I about the new species maybe not having viruses". "Also if this species done have latent viruses my entire PhD is à la poubelle", I complained. "You will pivot if that is the case! No worry! Forget all that before your exam", Émile assured. "Émile, you are an oracle of wisdom". I worshiped.

Then we started talking about crows, and I felt much better.

[kazuhasbunny]

Giiiirl, imagine you are on Baal's side, you are a general and commanding an army against the rebels' own general, Gorou.

You are all cocky and confident, your years of experience just keeping you aware enough so you won't be consumed by your pride. But oh, your face, when after all of those carefully thought out strategies and intensive training, you end up losing to that mutt.

He is insufferable. Even though his face and body is caked in a mixture only war can give-- blood, sweat and dirt, his smile is the biggest, smuggest thing you have ever seen in your life as a warrior. It does not help that you are on your knees, back stretching forward as the grip he has on your jaw tugs you up with such a force you won't ever believe an archer, a long distance fighter, would posses. The bodies of both sides lay scattered on the defiled land, but the purple spots decorate the most, as his last men stand straight and proud behind him, just as yours do, but the lack the attentiveness. Their tired and bored countenance ticks you in a wrong way. Why they don't look happy by this result?

Does your failure was already predicted? As if this end was something that was already calculated. Taken in account.

The man holding your jaw in a bruising grip let go of you, a mere blink of respite as the next second your left cheek explodes in pain, your vision swaggers for a second as you fall on your right side from the streght of that blow. You shut your eyes and concentrate on your breathing; the fight left you completely drained, as much as your brain screamed at you to stand up and attack that man, your bones and muscles protested as you tensed in hopes of getting up, but ultimately you only made yourself look pitiful.

Gorou turns to were his men are, his gaze lingering for a second on your laughable attempt. His focus switches to the army as he starts to pace from one side to the other, the victory was already decided, but the energy from the feat itself brought a surge of emotions within him.

Another quick glance at you, and something on his mind switched. He was wondering what to do with you; killing you off felt as a meaningless action, as the Shogun won't care for someone as low as yourself. You only were deployed to fight against them to gain time for the real force, to prepare and learn how strong the rebels actually are. With how confident you looked hours ago, it seems that your benevolent Shogun forgot to grace you with such knowledge before sending you off with a bunch of newly trainees.

"First of all, congratulations, my friends, for this well earned victory" Gorou began. The group of men on front of him quickly acknowledge his words, paying attention to what he had to say.

"Even if the outcome resulted as to what we--" He turns around, your eyes opened when he began speaking. You both made eye contact, and Gorou's smirk transformed into a full smile. Was it okay for him to fill such giddiness at the sight of your equally wounded pride and body? After all, he was the one to bring you into that state, he was the one to put you in your rightful place with just one arrow, kneeling on the dirty battlefield as the geo power incased on the arrowhead did its job in petrify you.

The glint of defeat on, dare he say, those gorgeous eyes of yours really made them stand out. Actually, as he approaches your form, he's starting to see some other appealing features he couldn't notice from a longer distance. What was the Shogun thinking, in even allowing you a spot within her number when you clearly weren't made for war?

"--Expected" his pause brought your attention to what he was actually saying. So they had all of this calculated...

"But now, all that is left to do, is tend to the wounded and take care of the dead. Yours and their sacrifice will bring an end to this stupid decree in no time. We need to prepare for tougher, real..." He gives you a glance "...battles from now on. Don't let this win get in your head"

The crowd quietly cheers between them, some of them patting each other on the shoulder for a job well done. All of that camaraderie made your stomach hollow, as you recognise the same speech you have told to your former men after a battle well fought. Those piercing blue eyes of his made you painfully aware of the consecutive part of giving a victory speech, about what is waiting for the losing side, the pit in your stomach grew in size and you really wished that it could swallow you whole before the man in front of you does.

Gorou thrills in your despair. That pretty face of yours plunging into dark dephts, your mind weaving one horrifying destiny after other speaks a lot of your character, as only those who have layed a cruel end to those before them can conceive. He knows what kind of thoughts those are, but as much of a monster as you are viewing him now, he won't do such a thing. He was quite merciful while deciding what your fate will be, even if he didn't pondered a lot in the few minutes after your fall, you are but only a child with a weapon, sent to die by that horrible woman.

And something he prides himself of, is learning from mistakes. He won't throw away something that can fulfill very well other duties than warfare ones.

"Sir! If I may--" a voice spoke between the masses of helms and spears.

"I know, I know. The general" Gorou waves off his hand, his eyes never stranding away from your form for far too long.

A groan escapes your body as his foot steps on your ribcage, not too hard but your weak body sense as if he had nails attached to the sole, your skin felt cold and as if it was being prickled by a ton of needles. He pushes your your body with a gentleness unexpected from an enemy, until you were lying on your back. The new position put pressure in the arrow wound on your right/left shoulder, your dominant arm, and for a second you were grateful of the rigidness granted by the geo element yet covering half of your arm or else you are sure you would have cried in pain, the last thing you want now is to show more weakness that what you are displaying.

"What I am going to do with her... I didn't know myself when we first begun this battle" Gorou continued. He removed his shoe from your chest to your side on the floor, so you'll be cage between his legs while he looks down on you. His arms crossed across his chest and he tilted his head to the side, as in assessing you, taking on your face just as covered in grime as his but not diminish your beauty in the slightest. He really made a good decision in regard of your fate.

The soldiers stood still, the atmosphere felt heavy like the air on a hot summer afternoon that feels stuffy on your lungs as your breath in. Their general had an unseen aura surrounding him, his usual careless actitud makes everyone forget that there's an animal side to him, although they aren't sure they will presence it for the first time, their captain is definitely switching towards that side... they even feel a little bit of pity for the woman under him.

"But as I see her like this, beaten, it makes me remember something of old, that the victorous usually sow. Can you guys guess what it is?" He squats over you, sweetly combing a couple of strands of hair out of your face.

Whispers break among the army after the question. One of them raised his hand, no barely 18 years old as he was one of the shortest in comparison to his bigger and wider shouldered comrades. The young recruit promptly lowered his arm as the general wasn't looking at their direction but that didn't stopped him from answering, eyes shining with excitement:

"They take something as a token of their victory, sir!"

Gorou hummed in affirmation. "Yes, they did. A spoil of war, if you may"

Dread washed over you. He wasn't going to kill you, as a way to demonstrate their superiority? To be taken as a trophy, a possession... He surely won't mean that, right? They are going to torture you and extract every drop of information that you have, until the last thing left in you is blood to shed on their hands as your usefulness is cut short like your troath.

You needed to say something. Anything, as long as it would arise anger within the young male, anything as long as you aren't degrade far from what you have been.

Gorou raised his eyebrows as you coughed. He wasn't expecting a monologue from you but neither silence. Your sudden wish of speaking made the men jump into action, their spears pointing at you with such terrifying speed made you realise furthermore that this battle was destined to end like this, another stripe to the tiger just like a new blow to your pride.

"Just kill me already. I won't say anything, and if given the opportunity, I will end it myself" you spat. You tried to transmit all of your pain, hate and shame in one stare, you won't go happy until you make that man see what you feel, how big your abhorrence is to his being.

All the males stare in silence, until the general himself chuckled. Your cheeks burn with rage, your teeth clenched together as you tried yo surf this flare of emotions. How dare he laugh like that! He already won and you won't speak a thing about the Shogun, why acting like that? Isn't the rebels supposed to act with nobility and fairness?

Gorou took a breath in. He's happy he didn't went for the traditional route and killed you.

"Aw, now you just proved me correct, sweetheart. I'll enjoy making you into a proper wife"

All of that just to say "Imagine being taken as Gorou's prize and he makes you his whore wife" LMAO

(Also? In the part that reader coughs? I wanted to put that Gorou spits on your lips because you looked thirsty AODJFJDC)

THIS 🙏 yes i’d love to be gorou’s housewife he should really take me in and train me to obey him . please i’d do anything for him

AND pleasee omg ... if u actually put that in i’d die on my chair it’s too hot i can’t hjnhnggrh

[ready-to-obeyme]

starlight (Lucifer/MC)

For @dazatsu for the Obey Me Secret Santa for 2020. I hope this fic of mine makes you smile at least once! :) I loved thinking up of the prompt for your secret santa, so I hope I did your aesthetics and preferences justice! I tried including both of your faves and ended up focusing on one. 

Feel free to message me on discord or on my personal @epiphyllous.

Happy Holidays! :)

Summary: It’s been a few days or so since you’ve returned to the human world to attend your university classes. Missing you, Lucifer decides to give you a visit, (with Belphie tagging along) hopefully without being seen, just to check up on you. 

Or so he planned. He never could have anticipated how much he actually misses you. 

notes: gn!reader, College Student MC, sfw, (sorta) established relationship, pining

--

Be patient, Lucifer tells himself. One semester: four months, or even better, fifteen weeks. Lucifer would never admit it to anyone else, but he counts the days until you come back to the House of Lamentations, occupy the room that is now too quiet for comfort, and sit at your seat at the dining table and laugh with all of them again.

The first week after you leave to attend university classes, he keeps his brothers in line, making sure they keep on going to RAD classes instead of spending the entire day moping over your absence. Not that he didn’t miss you, because, of course, he did. At the best of times you were like a buoy in a stormy night, and at others, you were a comforting presence at his side who taught him how to laugh again.

But you had promised to come back, and he had promised that they would be waiting for you when you did. Lucifer prides himself on control, so in control he would be.

Or so he would have been if he had not already planned to ‘check-up’ on you in the human world at the end of this week. 

(He tries not to think about the fact he has caved in only one week after you’ve been gone, but demons are weak to temptation-- so he forgives himself, just this once, because it is to see you.)

To anyone else, especially his brothers, he’s visiting the human realm to take care of human exchange student documents. Only Diavolo, and Barbatos by association, knows why he’s actually settling the last piece of his paperwork prior to his trip. Diavolo had only given him a wide smile, but he is embarrassed to be so evidently transparent to his old friend. (It would have been even more embarrassing had Barbatos had been there to receive the news, so Lucifer is thankful for that at least.) 

With everything in order, his brothers threatened to do well in class while he was gone and too distracted to notice the real reason he’s so eagerly planning a trip away, Lucifer heads out the door.

Belphie is waiting for him in the doorway. 

“You aren’t planning to go by yourself, are you?” Belphie says with a leisurely smile, and Lucifer can only sigh.

.

.

“Oh, sorry-- er, Pro-Professor…”

Lucifer watches as another student meekly ducks past him, skittering away with their head ducked low until they merge with their group. He can hear snippets of what they’re saying, and he isn’t sure what to think when all the comments have been on his attire. It didn’t dawn on him when he first walked onto campus grounds with Belphie in tow, but with the glances he’s been given and the attention he’s been garnering despite his attempts to stay hidden, he realizes how strange his outfit must be when compared to the rest of the population. 

He sighs and crosses his leg on the wooden bench they’ve perched themselves on, turning towards his youngest brother when he hears him laugh. Belphie gives him a sleepy smile that does not hide any of the amusement behind it. “Those people think you’re a cosplayer,” he says to Lucifer, pointing to a group of students who were looking at the two of them. “From an anime about vampires or butlers.” 

Lucifer looks down at his fur-collared coat on his shoulders and gives it a slight tug. “Ah, I suppose the coat is a little bit ill-suited for the weather, isn’t it?” He huffs when Belphie gives him a deadpan. “I jest, Belphie,” he says, crossing his arms (regally, in a way that only convinces everyone who watched him that he was playing in-character). “I understand clearly now that my ‘casual’ attire is not the norm for this university campus.”

“Or any other campus,” Belphie mutters. “People have been saying your vest makes you look like you part-time at Olive Garden… wherever that is. You should have just dressed like me today.” And Lucifer cannot argue with that sentiment, considering how well Belphie fits in with the university atmosphere and environment with his long jacket worn over his tee. If he ignores the comments on his own attire, Lucifer can hear the whispers of awe and even admiration at the cow-printed pillow that Belphie has brought along with him today to ‘comfortably sleep in class while he waits for you,’ or so he has explained to Lucifer.

“I’m not sure how I would pull off the university-look you so excel at,” Lucifer says exasperatedly. “I doubt it would…” Just as quickly as he cut his sentence off, Lucifer jumps to his feet, quickly dragging Belphie by the pillow (much to his complaints) to hide behind a particularly bushy shrub. 

“Ugh, let go of my pillow, you’re going to stretch it out--”

“Shh, be quiet,” Lucifer snaps, glaring at his brother who only stubbornly looks back. “I’d rather not be caught sneaking around on campus when we’re not supposed to.”

“Wait, what? Aren’t we here to see them?” Belphie retorts, “Isn’t this the whole point? Wait, unless…”

Lucifer can feel the tell-tale heat on his ears as warnings of an oncoming blush and wills it away with a scowl, daring Belphie to finish his thought. As expected from his free-spirited and equally willful brother, Belphie does anyway.

“You didn’t tell MC you were coming, did you?” Belphie says, and as much as Lucifer is happy to have such a cunning brother, he wished Belphie were otherwise at the moment. “That’s why we’ve been hiding around trying to find them rather than just having them ditch class--”

“I would not make them ditch class--”

“--and spend time with us.” Belphie pauses. “Why didn’t you just tell them we were coming?” 

In the corner of his eyes, Lucifer sees you walk down the crackling pavement-- backpack on your shoulders, skin a healthy glow (thank Diavolo), and eyes as bright as ever-- and Lucifer’s thoughts trail to a stop. His gaze follows you as you walk past them without notice, and he thinks to himself that a human like you truly does belong to a place with the sun, because you are as radiant as starlight.  

Lucifer looks back towards Belphie who had fallen silent, only to fight back another bout of embarrassment as Belphie stares back at him with a knowing, mischievous gleam. 

“Let’s grab a seat in their class,” Belphie says, standing up easily and walking the same direction Lucifer watched you disappear into. Just when Lucifer thinks the gleam is only from the sun, Belphie continues, his voice dripping with saccharine, “Just so you can watch them a little more closely.”

Lucifer sighs, less inclined to argue when they have little time to catch up with you. (Though even if he did have time, there was not much to say when nothing Belphie said was wrong.)

.

.

Looking back at the conversation now, Lucifer wishes he did argue, just a little, because maybe then he would feel better upon watching in horror as Belphie sleeps beside him in class only five minutes into lecture. 

After following you, they had picked inconspicuous seats in the back row of the lecture hall (with these tiny, little tables-- Lucifer doesn’t understand how anyone could write on these), hoping to remain unseen by you who sat a few rows up in the middle. Based off the scattered, quiet laughter that surrounds them, Lucifer thinks that their choice in seats was a moot point now. 

“Belphie. Belphie,” Lucifer hisses, nudging his brother’s leg in hopes of stirring him awake. “Lecture just began. How are you asleep already?” 

“S’fine,” Belphie mumbles, waving a flippant hand. “We don’t even take this class.” 

From behind them, Lucifer hears someone quietly whisper ‘legend’, and it takes everything in him to not bury his face into his hands and make themselves even more noticeable. He sighs, but regardless, he looks forward, spotting the back of your head almost immediately in a sea of students. Ever so often, he would see your head dip down to look at your laptop and up again to read the slides that were presented. The movement is repetitive, most likely reminiscent to how you would also be in a Devildom RAD class, but for some reason, watching you focus and intently study in your university classes makes it very evident how often he finds himself proud of you. 

And he almost feels guilty for following you on campus. After all, he did make a promise to be there when you came back after waiting patiently for you, and it was not as if you left happily. If anything, you had hoped to stay-- but your future awaits, and so you promised to work hard to get back to them as soon as possible. Perhaps he should keep to the promise you had made to each other-- oh. 

Lucifer watches as you lean down to rummage through your backpack, and he almost feels his heart stop when he sees your D.D.D in your hand. Your fingers scroll through something: Past texts? Your gallery, perhaps? Regardless of what the reason is, Lucifer feels something warm spread within his chest as he thinks that maybe you had missed them (hopefully even him?) just as much as they missed you. 

What he does not expect is to have his phone vibrate with a text from you. 

>> Are you busy right now?

Lucifer is thankful that Belphie is asleep because he does not see the way Lucifer fumbles to get his D.D.D out and text with his heart at his throat. 

<< Not at the moment. 

He pauses. 

<< Is something the matter?

The response is quick.

>> No, nothing is wrong! 

>> I’m just in class right now and ngl it’s kind of boring.

Lucifer buries his chuckle into his fist.

<< And here I thought you had an emergency.

>> :crying emoji: This IS an emergency. I’m DYING

>> of BOREDOM

>> Save me, Lucifer!!

<< I will not be an accomplice to distracting you during class. 

He’s already enabling you by responding, so it’s not exactly the truth, he admits. But he does like the way you tilt your head as you are wont to do when you find something amusing. 

>> Darn, okay I tried

>> I just

Lucifer watches as the text bubbles stay on screen, and he waits for your upcoming message when the people around them stand up, putting their laptops into their backpacks at the end of the lecture.

>> I miss you guys

He looks up to see you standing up, D.D.D. in hand, head down and fingers still over the screen. After a moment, you type something else and lock the phone, putting it into your backpack before heading down the aisle to leave the class. 

Your last few messages pop up.

>> Class just ended so I’ll have to go study at the library but

>> I just wanted to say I really miss you

>> Hope you’re doing well

>> Love you. 

“What are you waiting for?” 

Lucifer turns toward Belphie, whose violet eyes are still bleary from sleep but whose words are as clear and succinct as ever. He yawns before continuing, “Go after them. Let me know when their classes are done so we can actually do something together.” 

At this, Lucifer feels his gaze soften. “Yes, I’ll let you know,” he says, standing up and walking down the path to the door. “And, ah, Belphie…” He waits until his youngest brother looks up from his pillow before telling him with a small, wry smile, “Be sure not to get locked inside the classroom when all the lectures finish.” 

.

.

After a few mishaps, Lucifer manages to ask for the directions to the library most commonly used by the student body. The first few times he tried, his language was too formal for anyone to truly believe he was asking for direction. “Who are you cosplaying? Can I take a picture with you?” was thrown at him numerous times. “Am I being pranked right now? Are you a youtuber?” was also asked at him twice-- which was not often, but it was strange that it happened that many times. 

Eventually, someone had, after watching him cross his arms indignantly, given him the instructions to the library. It was only when he was walking up the steps to the building that he thought that everything would have gone much faster if he had only demanded directions and hypnotized a random student into telling him. But he imagined that if you ever found out, you would not be pleased, and that-- if anything-- was the one reason why he resisted the urge to. 

Lucifer walks into the air-conditioned building and searches for you. It does not take him long until he sees you, sitting at one of the desks in the library, laying your head on your arms, fast asleep.

It is around three in the afternoon, the sunshine filters through the ceiling windows and scatters across your desk, showering you in a flurry of light, and Lucifer thinks he was a fool to ever think he could bear to not see you for a moment longer. 

The seat beside you is open, so he sits there, watching the moving sunlight dance across the hand you placed near your face. Your chest rises and falls evenly, and for a moment, you clench your hands but do not wake, seeming to dream of holding onto something instead. It takes all the self-control Lucifer could muster to not take your hand in his. Instead, he drapes his jacket over your shoulders, careful not to let it fall off, and watches as students filter in and out of the library in the hustle of academic life. 

Lucifer isn’t sure how long he waited, surrounded by tall shelves of books and aisles of encyclopedias, but you start to stir, waking up and wincing at the sun in your eyes in a way that has him smiling in amusement. You first grab onto the jacket that had started to fall off your shoulders, and upon realizing that it did not belong to you, you look up to see Lucifer, smiling fondly. 

“Lucifer?” 

Lucifer can feel the side of his eyes crinkle at the sound of your voice still raspy from sleep. He sweeps away the lint on your shoulder as you sleepily gather up his jacket into your lap. “Whatever happened to ‘studying in the library’ as you told me?” He says teasingly, smile widening when you fluster and laugh nervously. 

“I-- you know… I was taking a break and,” you start to say, pausing only to look at him accusingly, much to his amusement. “Wait, forget about that! How are you here? Why are you here?” 

“I’m the vice-president of the student council-- I’m able to be wherever I please,” he tells you, and you huff at how smug he sounds. “As for why I’m here, it’s to check up on one of our human exchange students, of course… is what I would say.” Lucifer leans forward and gently caresses your cheek with his thumb, unable to push the affection that bubbles forth as he sees your hand press over his. “But I also just wanted to see you.”

Lucifer hears a cough from behind him and feels heat rushing into his cheeks at the (quite frankly) polite reminder that he was in a public space. He retracts his gloved hand and clears his throat, hoping that the moment is enough to clear away the pink that has undoubtedly found its way onto his face. He expects you to tease him, as you often do whenever you have the chance. When it does not come, he glances back to you, only to feel his heart squeeze at the way you look at him: your eyes softened, lips upturned gently, and gaze adoring in a way that made it seem like you believed he had hung the stars.

(If there were any more ‘coughing’ to remind Lucifer that they were, in fact, still in the library instead of their own world, neither of you take notice.)

“I missed you too,” you say, summing up his feelings in the simplest way that only you could do. You take his hand into yours and gently sway it back and forth. “Thank you for coming to visit me.”

It had been a good idea, after all, he thinks, to indulge himself for once and come see you if it meant he could hold your hand like this again. “Belphie was hoping you would give us a tour of your university,” Lucifer says softly, sweeping his thumb over your hand. “If you were done with classes.”

He feels you squeeze his hand in response to his affection, and his heart soars even as he listens to you speak. “Belphie is here?” You ask, surprised. When he nods in confirmation, you laugh. “Did he catch you when you were leaving or something? Threaten to tell your brothers if you didn’t take him along?” 

Lucifer doesn’t answer you, preferring to huff instead, though he can’t deny that he is pleased that you can know his brothers’ behavior well enough to hit it right on the money. “He opted to sleep in the last lecture hall you were in rather than go on the wild goose chase I had to find this library. Is nobody at your university unable to fathom that someone would wear something slightly more formal to class?”

“Yup,” you reply easily, grinning at him. “But it’s okay, I like your outfit. It’s very you.” You pause. “Also, we can always go shopping later, though, so people can stop staring at you. And also to buy some souvenirs for your brothers!” Your eyes brighten as you think, and his heart melts at the fact that his brothers are in your thoughts. (For as much as he wants to have your attention, he finds that the love you can give to his brothers is as equally enjoyable to witness.) 

You hum thoughtfully, “I think Beel might appreciate some food from this new restaurant that opened up last week. Maybe Levi would like something from the cute Japanese store down the road? Oh, and face masks for Asmo!”

“I’m sure they’ll be happy with anything you purchase for them,” Lucifer says, making you look up at him with a smile. And he wants to reach out to cup your face again.

Ring ring!

The both of you glance at your phone when it plays a tune, and as quickly as the alarm goes off, your hand is there to turn it off. Lucifer looks at you questioningly before you sigh.  “I have class in about ten minutes,” you say apologetically.

“Is that so?” Lucifer says, standing up from his seat. “Then I shall accompany you.” He extends a hand in askance for his jacket, only to give a huff of laughter when you only stare at him incredulously. “Is it that much of a surprise that I would like to escort you to your classes? Unless, of course, you would prefer me not to--”

“No!” You duck your head down, looking around quickly, much to Lucifer’s amusement, before lowering your volume. ‘No, I mean,” you fluster, “I’d like that. Thank you.”

Oh, how Lucifer wants to press a kiss to your forehead, but to save you (and himself, though he thinks he no longer has anything to lose) the embarrassment, he settles for easy laughter as he wraps his jacket around himself. You follow after him, pushing in your chair and lugging up your backpack, your laptop securely inside. 

“Shall we go then?” he asks, holding out an elbow for you to hook your arms with his. When you slide yourself close to him and walk down the steps outside the library, he realizes that this is the many things he has missed since you've been gone. Your hand is a comfortable presence on his arm and your footsteps are aligned with his as you walk in tandem to your next class. He briefly thinks about his brothers, most particularly how Mammon would bluster about their proximity, or how one of the romance novels Satan would have described this very situation he was in: walking alongside someone dear to him on a campus that does not seem as big when you are together.

Your hand squeezes his arm gently before you guide him through hallways and pathways. When a crowd of students bustles past them at the end of lecture, he feels you inch closer to him. 

“It’s a lecture hall, not a discussion class,” you start to tell him, much to his confusion. You laugh. “They won’t notice you’re not part of the class, so you can sit next to me.” You lower your hand and take his hand in yours.

Lucifer squeezes your hand comfortingly as the last of the previous class files out. “Try not to be too distracted by my presence,” he comments and cannot help the upturn of his lips when you shoot him a withering look he does not have to see to know it has no heat behind it.

Among other glances and subtle affection that you provide him the rest of the day convinces him fully that there has never been a better decision than to visit you. When the two of you finally meet up with Belphie, who had been asleep on a nearby bench, the night is spent out following you as you guide them around campus and at the nearest hub of entertainment. 

In the end, you do collect enough gifts for all his brothers, even sneaking a small present into his hands with a sly smile on your face.

And when he returns to the Devildom after a long, long farewell where no one wanted to leave, he provides his brothers with their souvenirs (after they stopped complaining to him about going off to the human world with only Belphie). He tugs off the coat that now lingers with your scent and places the gift you had purchased him onto his desk-- a little trinket that he can now look at and remind himself of you, with eyes of starlight and laughter as warm as the sun.

He thinks of the last message that you sent him and sends you a response.

<< I love you too.

<< Until next time. 

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Where they take you on vacation - 7 Brothers + Diavolo

Found out the edits are made by @devilgram​ who has such a beautiful blog and posts so many Obey Me! things that are so cool! You did a great job with all the edits! <3

LUCIFER

Lucifer would like to take you to Romania, mostly because of all the stories of the great Wallachian ruler Vlad Tepes/The Impaler and wants to find out more about his ruthless yet effective methods of insuring no crime happens in his country ( and hopes they will work on his brothers too ).

Apart from the gorgeous landscapes from the mountainside, the possibility to go to the seaside, or see the different types of regional architecture ( like the unique Black Church ) from different cities, he’d also like to get a full experience of the language, the music, the traditions ( customs, clothes, foo ) and feel for a day like a native from the old ages. 

Even more, he’d find it very nice if you were to try out one of the traditional outfits, and would take a picture of you at the mountains, on a nice field, and put the developed picture in his coat, looking at it whenever he is working and misses you.

He can get pretty salty about the fact that there are still people who believe the Bran castle is Dracula’s true castle, instead of the Poienari fortress and wouldn’t hesitate to express his displeasure, but would appreciate the castle and everything displayed there nonetheless.

Also, would be the first to go to the Horror house, holding your hand if you get scared, and would feel incredibly proud that you trust him and feel safe around him, but would get such a kick out of using his demon form while at it, to scare the actors there.

His whole aesthetic draws people near as if they would actually approach a vampire royalty, which allows him to puff his chest out in pride, so hey, you’re dating a vampire now!

Would take you out at the fanciest restaurant, just to feel how the life at this place is.

Would love to take long walks on the beach at the sea, your feet in the water, holding hands, and just admiring the moon and stars while waves are your music.

You’d mostly stay silent and enjoy the atmosphere, but sometimes you talk a few words, and that’s when Lucifer is the most relaxed, calm and tender.

He would saying that he loves you with such ease for the first time in so long, and the kiss on your forehead would be so soft that it brings you more butterflies than any kiss ever could.

Lucifer looks so ethereal in the light of the moon, it’s almost like he’s glowing, and when you tell him, he’d actually blush softly, before chuckling and stroking your hair, not denying, nor agreeing with your statement.

---

Mammon

Mammon loves to spend money and grab it, so what better place than Las Vegas?

He’d love for the two of you to dress super fancy and flashy, in matching colours if possible, go gambling, scam people and experience the luxury night lifestyle, go to clubs, loud music and expensive alcohol and all that.

But Mammon isn’t all about the flashy and exciting night time, instead, he would mostly love to just see the world with you by his side, and his goals is to make you happy, to he does everything he can to go sightseeing with you and reads in advance about whatever places you could visit and tells you some fun trivia about the place, he’s treating you to the fanciest food and drink places, and would spoil you rotten when going shopping, loving to see you do a little catwalk for him every time you get out of the changing booth.

He’d definitely insist on buying super cute animal Pyjamas.

He’s a huuuuuge fan of the “His Queen/Her King” trope and loves showing you off as much as possible, so get matching Tshirts or jackets and he would be SOOO proud and would laugh confidently and proud all the time, his arm around you, saying how cool you two are together and all that.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he honestly doesn’t believe he’s good enough for you, but when he sees how your dazzling smile is always directed to him and you cling on his arm whenever you watch the Lights Show on the big buildings, see the beautiful fireworks or watch the impressive singing fountain...Well, he can’t help but blush and kiss your forehead, feeling butterflies in his stomach.

He’s the kind of guy who would spam his DevilGram with either couple pictures in different places you visit, or just cute pics of you or you two messing around, and his account is actually very popular for the #CoupleGoalz trend.

At night, he would like to either cuddle with you and watch a movie, or go drive through the city at night, watch the night lights, and go on a cliff, stargazing and chatting openly about everything, because honestly, this guy is always dismissed and insulted by his brothers, it’s always a relief and a fresh air when he can be himself and just...Talk with someone. 

---

Leviathan

Levi is the biggest weeb in the world, so the first place you’d visit together is Japan.

Anime conventions, wearing cute kimonos while going to festivals or roaming the streets of Kyoto or Akihabara, couple cosplay (Henry and the Lord of Shadows), buying merch of your favourite anime/manga/game, going to Vocaloid concerts, buying the newest Ruri-chan figurines, trying out new video games that just came out and so on.

Actually wants to go to a Pokemon cafe and fangirls SO much about all the cute pokemon themes there.

He would get you all the cutest Pokemon plushies, especially if you’re not all that into Pokemon but want to share that interest with him, so expect a Skitty, Vulpix, Shaymin, Eevee and all its Eeveelutions, Milotic plushie, while he would already be collecting plushies for the rarest Pokemons, but he’s incredibly happy that you want to do this with him.

He also gets an Ekans just for the Lolz and let’s out his tail, mostly for troll purposes, but it makes you laugh and he could swear his heart stopped beating and his cheeks were redder than ever.

He secretly got you a maid outfit and would love to see you wearing it, but he’s too embarrassed to actually say.

He would blush SO much seeing you in a kimono with a nice hair pin and a fan, while going to see the Sakura trees blossoming and you look like the Sengoku type of heroines from the dating sims he plays so much (to get experience and not fuck up with you), but somehow, you’re so much beautiful than any CG he’s every seen, no matter how gorgeous the art is.

He would get lots of packs of Pocky and despite not saying it out loud, would put a pocky in his mouth and you’d get the hint and munch on the other end of the pocky, in the end kissing him softly.

Levi.exe stopped working.

He would love taking pics of you alone, because you’re so beautiful, and would edit them to look as ethereal as possible, if you want, to even have fantastic backgrounds, and would take pride in how popular your DevilGram/InstaGram is.

He also changed his Lockscreen to have you with your hand in a half-heart gesture, while yours has him with the other half, so whenever he looks at the clock, or sees a new notif, he sees you smiling, with a cute kitten filter.

His Wallpaper is the two of you kissing, edited with a few hearts, sparkles and a little “I love you” written in cursive in a corner (you edited the pic and suggested you both use it, but he denied, so you changed it yourself for him too, while he was busy gaming, and he liked it so much that he couldn’t change it back to Ruri-chan.)

---

Satan

Satan would choose England first for so many reasons!

He’s such a perfect gentleman and seeing everyone so polite and chivalrous there makes his heart bloom and would up his gentleman shills even more, wanting to impress you and make your heart skip with everything he does.

Loves to take you to different castles, see in real life everything he read in books and saw in movies or TV series, and he’s so mesmerised by the beauty of everything that he forgets he promised to be your guide, but his bright smile and the way his eyes sparkle in curiosity and glee make up for everything.

Besides, he’d definitely go back to you and explain in very precise detail the reason for his fangirling.

He’s a little nerd so bookstore dates are a huge YES, and more - CAT CAFES where you can read at your heart’s content. HUGE YES.

You’d both get our of there with tons of books that you will read together, cuddled up under the blankets while enjoying an aromatic tea that Satan prepared for you, together with some nice scones.

He’d want to go with you to Shakespeare’s grave, Dicken’s house, would like to see anything involving the Romantics and so on, since he’s in love with British literature.

Satan wants to go see the Harry Potter theme park so much, and would buy tons of merch for the two of you, and wants to go in full Hogwarts robes and wand with you.

Would take a gazillion pics of you together, that only you can see since it may ruin his reputation with his brothers for geeking out, but he’d love it if the universe was actually real.

He’d also take you to King’s Cross to take pic near the wall where you get to the 9 3/4 Platform.

And no trip to England could exist without a visit to Sherlock’s house, pretending to be detectives, and at Madam Tussaud’s Wax Museum to admire all the figures and potentially take troll pics with them.

---

Asmodeus

Asmo wastes no time in taking you to Paris, of course!

And the first thing you do is have a coffee at the restaurant located on top of the Eiffel Tower.

He would, throughout all the trip, take tons of selfies EVERYWHERE, and aeshtetic pics of either you alone, him alone, or together.

He’s a Devilgram and Devilr celebrity, after all!

Loves going to all the little cafes and drink a hot beverage with you while looking and judging all the passer-bys, how they would never compare to how beautiful and fashionable you two are.

He takes you to the Versailles Palace while wearing the most glamorous outfits, and despite all the pics taken, he will tell you stories of when he visited the place long ago, and more, will tell you of the paintings displayed, since he’s rather knowledgeable.

Asmodeus will take you everywhere, but first, the Lafayette Galleries, all while streaming every second there, to shop everyone how amazing the place is.

Would pics the both of you sooo many pretty brand clothes, new skin care routine and make up products, that you almost wonder where he has all the money from, especially to pay someone to carry them back to your place.

Would take you to a lingerie shop where he’d make you try on all the cutest outfits and would buy them all, especially because he thinks they will make you more confident and wants to make sure you never thing bad of yourself, because if you’re dating him, then you’re obviously the most beautiful being he’s ever seen, inside and out. (he doesn’t count here, of course)

His wallpaper is a selfie of you two smiling and making a peace sign, from the top of the Eiffel Tower, seeing all Paris in the background, at evening, with the beautiful sky and the night lights all over.

Would take you on a cruise on Seine, serenading and drinking a glass of bubbly champagne, admiring all the buildings and the happy people sitting on the banks of the River, enjoying the scenery.

And of course, there’s no perfect trip to the City of  Love without some very tender and sensual love-making, with so many compliments, praises, soft touches and gentle kisses from Asmodeus, followed by a relaxing bath with milk, honey and rose petals, scented candles, bubbles and ambiental music, and of course, a lot of cuddling all night long.

---

Beelzebub

Beelzebub would want to go to Italy, since it’s the country with the best human food, and what better place to eat it them its home country?

Would actually love to go sightseeing with you and seeing all the pretty stuff there is.

He appreciates the architecture, statues and paintings of every historical place, loves to find out more about the country’s history and traditions and would like to take scenic pictures of all the places you visit...

And make a couple album where he puts pics with either you alone or together.

It’s his most treasured possession and nobody except Belphie knows about it, and while he is happy that his brother is happy, he would say it’s so cheesy.

Would have fun when doing the classic “Pushing the Pisa Tower” picture, would like to sing when you go on a Gondola ride in Venice, and pretend to be a gladiator at the Colosseum, while you’re his Caesar.

If you get him a necklace or a keychain, he’d never take it off and has it as his lucky charm, kissing it whenever he misses you or wants the day to go good.

After he understands how the food is made, he’d want to make it himself, so you cooking together would be so cute and fun, and the way you see the love and tenderness in his eyes as he looks at you laughing, while your face is covered in flour...

He’s such a precious and soft baby, and he loves you so much.

Also, he’d love to carry you around just for fun and because he loves holding you close to him, so either bridal style on on his shoulder, you say it, and he’s gonna do it.

Will also like to take lots of short videos with you two, just fooling around, giggling, laughing, making jokes, kissing, pretending to be kittens, having flour fights and all that, since they’re beautiful memories and whenever he’s sad, he watches them and he forgets the reason he was sad in the first place.

---

Belphegor

Belphegor would take you to New Zealand, because he saw how beautiful and green the landscape were, thanks to the Lord of the Rings movies, so he wanted to see what would be like stargazing on such a flowery field, or sleeping in a Hobbit hole.

He’s pretty sleepy all the time, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t take you to see the big cities as well, eat out, shop for souvenirs and so on, but his heart is taken by the simplicity and peace the countryside and forests hold.

Belphie would actually like to have his head on your lap as you stay at the bottom of a tree and read, much like Froddo Baggings would, waiting for Gandalf.

It’s a guilty pleasure of his, but he wants to see ‘Gandalf’s’ fireworks, and when a festival like that happens, he’d hold your hand tight, having a soft smile on his face and a tender look in his eyes.

Despite not saying it very often, he will confess his love for you.

It’s barely above a whispers, but it’s genuine.

It’s simple, small, but meaningful and beautiful nonetheless.

As you stargaze on the field, he’d tell you the names of all stars and constellations that you can see, and would tell you some trivia he knows about them.

Would take a few pics here and there, but his favourite one is one where you two are on the ground outside, both your heads on his favourite pillow, while looking at each other, both of you having such genuine and pure love in your expressions.

If he ever wakes up earlier than you, and likes to troll a bit, he’d get his tail out and tickle your noes, smirking at how cute your half-asleep reactions were, but would play innocent when you ask about it, only kissing your nose to make you forget and reassure you that it was only a dream (it wasn’t).

---

Diavolo

Diavolo is so easily excitable, despite his age and title for the next Devil Lord, but honestly, he wants to take you to Iceland to see the Northern Lights that you spoke so fondly about.

There are so many pretty things to see in the Devildom alright, but none of them quite as fascinating to him as how the sky lights up with so many different and beautiful shades of green, blue and pink, it’s almost unreal!

Who would have thought that the Human world could hold such natural wonders?

He could have sword you were a witch or something, and just wanted to impress him with your magic, as if charming him wasn’t enough, but this beauty makes him behave even more like a child, leaving him speechless and breathless.

Diavolo would kiss and hug you, spinning your around so many times, if you allow him, you forgot to count, which is his way of thanking you for showing him this place and he’s honestly just so happy that he can share this precious moment together with you.

You tell him some old stories about how they say the ancestors’ souls watch over everyone from up there, and that even the animals who died have their souls there, living in peace and quiet.

Despite knowing it’s obviously not true, the tales humans come up with are so creative and make so much sense to their beliefs, he’s genuinely fascinated by all these old stories and would like for you to tell him more.

Iceland’s landscapes are also to be taken into account, and Diavolo will take thousands of pics of you literally everywhere, just because you’re so cute and he’s so damn happy and wants many memories together.

Would like for you to take a selfie with his phone, while at the Northern Lights, and would make Lucifer frame it so he can have it on his desk whenever he’s working, and whenever he gets bored, tired, or just misses you, he’d gaze fondly at the picture and would occasionally kiss it.

[vs-redemption]

I had an idea for a scenario with bakugo, let’s say that his s/o is quirkless but still works in the hero departments, as someone who helps give first aid to victims before the paramedics get there, and one day they get injured in a villain attack and bakugo doesn’t want them to go back because they got really hurt and he just holds them tight cause he doesn’t want to lose them, he almost lost them once and he doesn’t want to lose them for real.

a/n: This took a bit longer for me to get to than I would’ve liked since I’ve been working on match-ups, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. I hope you feel the same Anon! It is also a little longer than usual (1,314 words) Thank you so much for giving me the chance to write for Bakugo again!!! -Cindy ♥

An Accident (Bakugo x Quirkless!Reader)

⚠️Minor mentions of blood and Bakugo’s swearing⚠️

Katsuki Bakugo was going to be the best hero out there. He’d made it his life goal at a very young age and had never stopped pursuing that dream for even a moment. Even now that he was graduated from UA with his own agency and ranked in the top three heroes of Japan, it was still his one burning desire. The one and only thing that had changed for him over the years was his idea of what being the best hero meant.

At first, it had seemed obvious to him that being the best simply meant being number one. All Might had been the number one hero and the man Bakugo looked up most to in his childhood. Things changed in high school though. A new hero had moved to the number one spot and, while not terrible, still seemed to lack something from the image Bakugo had in his head. He realized that being a hero wasn’t just about the numbers. It didn’t just matter how many incidents you resolved or how many people you saved. A hero also had to be kind, with a persona that could put people at ease. It wasn’t just saving people, it was making them feel safe. It was something he was still working on, but he was proud to say he’d made great strides in that area.

After he met you though, Bakugo’s idea of what being the best hero meant changed again. When he’d found out his agency had hired someone without a quirk, his mind had done somersaults trying to figure out how to feel about it. He wasn’t the same judgmental jerk he’d been in middle school, but that didn’t mean it was safe to have you out with him on the front lines. It was extremely dangerous, even if you were only going to be helping to provide first aid to any civilians caught up in the fighting. He knew he had to give you a chance though, even if he felt a little uncomfortable at first when you were sent with him to take care of any major villain attacks occurring in the city.

“Remember to stay out of my way, idiot!” He growled at you the first time you both had been dispatched together.

“Ok,” You nod your head in understanding which makes Bakugo scrunch up his nose in confusion. He was used to people reacting more negatively to his abrasive behavior, even if he hadn’t meant to come across that way. He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves before rephrasing his comment.

“I just meant that you shouldn’t go rushing in to help if I’m still fighting nearby,” he explains.

“Yeah, no worries, I know what you meant,” you smile without missing a beat. Bakugo was even more perplexed by you now, but there was no time to dwell on it. You both made it to the scene and resolved the incident fairly smoothly.

From then on, Bakugo’s aversion to working with you slowly went away. You might’ve been quirkless, but you were one of the only people who didn’t seem to get offended whenever he came off a little too harsh. You always seemed to understand the message he’d been trying to convey and you never asked him to change his rough nature. Not that he’d ever had a problem with being himself before, but something about you made him feel like he wasn’t as monstrous as people sometimes made him out to be. You made him feel more comfortable in his own skin, and because of that, he fell in love with you.

After you started dating, Bakugo really began to reevaluate his definition of the perfect hero. He was high up in the ranks, and had even worked on being more comforting and approachable, but it wasn’t enough. His new goal was control. Every second a villain fight was dragged out was another second you were in danger. He had to be alert at all times, controlling his movements, being aware of what the villain was doing, and watching the size and trajectory of every piece of debris caused by the fight. There were so many ways for you to get hurt, and he was determined to protect you from each and every one of them. The one thing that gave him comfort was that you always obeyed his orders while out in the field. He trusted you not to charge into danger if he told you to stay back, and you trusted him not to stop you from doing your job unless absolutely necessary. There was no perfect system though, and accidents were inevitable.

“DIE!” Bakugo shouts while cupping his left hand in front of his right and aiming right for the villain in front of him. “AP SHOT!” He’d managed to lure the scumbag between two buildings so that he could have a clear shot. You were behind him, out on the street, and this directed blast would cause very little damage to the area around him. In just a few moments he’d have the villain restrained and he could go check on you to see if he could help with anyone who’d gotten injured until the paramedics arrived. He’d thought his plan was perfect until he heard someone scream his name. His blood ran cold, knowing instantly that it was your voice calling out to him.

Bakugo felt almost as if he was on autopilot as he quickly tied up the villain he’d taken out before using his quirk to blast himself as fast as humanly possible to your location. His mind filled with confusion and rage when he saw a second villain with their claw-like hand clutched tightly around your wrist. Their other hand was dripping with blood, alerting Bakugo to the deep wound on your side. How could this happen? He’d been told there was only one villain in this area.

“You’re going to pay for this! You Bastard!” Bakugo launches at the villain who lets you go quickly in order to defend themselves, but it was pointless. There was no way they’d win against Bakugo. They were unconscious on the ground within seconds, and Bakugo was rushing to your side. He falls to his knees beside you and gently pulls you onto his lap so he could assess your injury.

“You better be okay!” He says through clenched teeth, “I’ll never forgive you if you aren’t.”

“I’m fine Katsuki,” You promise while putting a hand on his shoulder to help yourself sit up against his chest. “The wound isn’t deep. It just needs to be cleaned and wrapped up. I’ll be okay.”

“I’m never letting you out here again,” he buries his face into your shoulder and holds you tightly against him. You could hear the emotion he was trying to suppress in his voice. His arms wrap more tightly around you, being careful to stay away from the gash on your side. “If I can’t keep you safe, I can’t let you be out here.”

“Bakugo,” you sigh while running your fingers through his thick blonde hair.

“I could’ve lost you today,” Bakugo leans back so that you could see the serious look in his red eyes. “What if next time I can’t get to you fast enough? I refuse to lose you!” There was no point in debating the topic because the incident was still fresh in his mind. So, you allow Bakugo to hold you for as long as he needs. Eventually, the police and paramedics show up and treat your injury. Bakugo refused to let you too far out of his sight for the rest of the day though. He vowed to be an even better hero from then on, not only just for the sake of being the best, but also to make him feel more confident about keeping you safe

[writernomore]

Two sides of the same coin.

Alright! So this is how it’s gonna go, I thought of this little somewhat scenario in my head with an Oc of mine, Where she’s like a long lost sister of Harry Potter where there is this prophecy about twins being separated and brought back together when the situation goes dire.

Summary: Y/n Brighton adopted daughter of a Muggle family has been accepted into Hogwarts a school for wizards and witches has lived a peaceful life before going to Hogwarts, all of that changes when she is accepted the same year as the infamous Harry Potter.

How did your life get to this point?

Your wondering Y/n what do you mean?

Well I’ll tell, I was living quite a normal boring life that held the same routine and would only switch up time to time.

It all changed when I had received a letter, It was weird cause my parents were talking about me going to a private school, the schools name was Hogwarts it was really peculiar because I had never heard of it, and so did my parents, so we wrote back hoping to receive an explanation, we asked and we received.

Hogwarts was a school for young wizards and witches being taught magic, I wasn’t buying it but then weird stuff happened to me I when I would be scared or angry.

I then decided to learn what I can, buying books that contained things that I needed to know about magic, famous wizards and witches, and since I was adopted my biological parents were probably magical like me.

Excitedly going to Diagon alley to buy what I needed with my Family alongside with me, fully supporting me, My older brothers calling me cool and asking if I could do cool tricks like the wizards in games and movies did, My little siblings looking up to me and proud for having a witch for a sister.

There was also news that spread really fast through out the wizarding world about the boy who lived, Harry Potter.

Harry Potter, was only a baby when Voldemort or people call him you-know-who but you really didn’t see the point by calling him that, decided to kill Harry and his family, Harry’s parents were murdered but Harry survived but didn’t leave unscathed, He had a lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

I don’t know if that was pure coincidence but you also had a scar in a shape of a star on the side of your neck.

Your Mother had told you before hand to be careful because she heard that Voldemort was only gone for a while and we wouldn’t know when or if he’d come back, so you promised your Mother you would write to her updating your situation in Hogwarts every weekend, knowing you would stay in dorms at school.

Your parents cried when they saw you in your school uniform and robes at  Madam Malkin's Robes, your brothers bothering them if they could try on the uniform to, causing you to giggle.

It was then you were there at King’s cross station, parked at the front and getting your luggage and your owl out of the car with the help of your siblings and Father while Mother carried your new born Baby brother and sister.

You asked as how you were going to get on to platform 9 and 3/4 before hand, You and your whole family running at the wall between platform 9 and 10.

The train was magnificent, after exchanging goodbye’s and kisses your luggage was placed into the train and you were now finding a compartment to sit in, it was all full.

You were passing by a compartment when you heard a familliar name.

“Holy Cricket you must be Harry Potter!” You heard a girls voice.

“I’m Hermione Granger and...you are?”

“Um, Ronald Weasley” “Pleasure”

You shook your head and just continued to walk around finding a place to sit for a while and change into your uniform and robes.

The train had stop meaning you were at the station, going outside seeing a giant bearded man approached the station holding a lamp calling the first years to him, being you who had to behave because her parents weren’t around and clearly not knowing anyone, you obeyed and followed the 8 foot giant.

The travel going to Hogwarts was fascinating travelling by boat with four people each in it.

Then there you stood, getting out of the boat being presented in front of a large castle, Holy.

You were guaranteed you were going to get lost, and this was no mall, this was going to be the school you would be studying in for 7 years, they definitely would be having a map lying around, right? Like the castle was massive! 

The inside was fascinating in itself, It looked so grand ascending at the staircase you were met with a woman with Her hair tide up into a neat bun wearing a green robe and glasses.

She introduces herself to be one of the professors in Hogwarts, Professor Mcgonagall and that we would be sorted into houses that would be like our families, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.

She leaves us there for a while when this blonde kid speaks,

“So it’s true what they’re saying in the train, Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts” Others start whispering to each other while you on the other side just wanna get sorted and sleep, standing for a while having an effect on you.

“I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy” Ron snorts “You think my name is funny do you? Red Hair, Freckles, and a hand me down robe, you must be a Weasley” Draco said while he looked Ron up and Down “You see some wizarding families are more well off then others, you don’t want to be making friends with the wrong sort” “I think I can tell the wrong sort myself thank you” Draco surprised looked at Harry while other children snickering from behind, While you get Hangry wouldn’t care less.

The Professor Mcgonagall comes back to lead us to the Great hall where there were other students seated at four different tables in different colored robes assuming that’s why they had to sort us in houses.

You opened you eyes and looked up at the ceiling widening in awe on how beautiful it looked, the night sky on the ceiling of the hall, remembering it wasn’t real and that it was made to look like that in A Hogwarts History.

The first years stopped walking and a four legged stool was placed at the front where the teachers and students could see you being sorted into your house, you were not a social lot, or nor you were unsocial you just didn’t like the feeling of many eyes staring at you.

Professor Mcgonagall rolled out a scroll that had a list of names, students were called and seated on the stool and the sorting hat would be sorted into their houses.

Your name was called; Y/n Brighton.

Y/n sat down on the stool and tried to shake off the feeling of eyes watching her when the hat landed on her head and covered her eyes she could finally be sorted into a house and get this thing over with to stop the feeling of everyone's eyes boring into her.

"Ah..Yes.. Difficult very Difficult there's so much potential and a mystery waiting to be solved of your origins.." origins? You thought wondering what the hat meant by that.

"You are cunning, intelligent creative too..you could do pleanty of wonders better it would be.."

The hat stalls for a while deciding what House to sort you in, You just wanted to be sorted into a house any house, you just wanted to get down form there, nothing bad will happen anyways if you were sorted into a unexpected house, "SLYTHERIN!" The sorting hat shouts, the Slytherin table bustling having a new member on their side, the sorting hat was taken off your head and you jumped off the stool and walked to the Slytherin table.

You sat down and were still hanging onto what the sorting hat meant by ‘ a mystery waiting to be solved of your origins’  What did he mean? is it cause I’m adopted?

After the sorting ceremony and a speech we all went to eat, I was waiting for this I was starving the food was good and delicious It was like home.

*-* 

You were completely lost!

It was surely a stupid idea but you just followed the person in front of you, hoping you would get to where you were going.

And as stupid as it may seem it worked? You got to potions class and coincidently sat next to famous Harry Potter.

You got out your book and turned to the page Professor instructed the class to turn to and began discussing.

Next to you Harry was writing down stuff, you put your hand on top of his a signal for him to stop writing, and he did.

He looked up at you confused then you shaked your head and pointed at Snape’s direction, he looked at him and just put his quill down, you retreating your hand to listen in on the lecture.

Let’s just say you saved him one by telling him to stop writing.

It was time for Broom flight class, and boy this was going to be terrifying.

Don’t get me wrong flying brooms sounds cool and all but not when you were afraid of falling of the broom and hitting your head and forgetting who you are and who your family were and-

Okay! No overthinking! Overthinking is bad it restricts you in doing things properly...

There you were skillfully flying on your broom doing loopty loops with some struggles with your grip on the broom, it was like the broom had a mind of it’s own but you were still holding on.

No-one was clearly paying attention cause they were watching Harry getting Neville’s remembrall back.

He got it back, yes, But he was called by Professor Mcgonagall.

You went back down so you wouldn’t be scolded, a kid did complimented your little tricks, you thanked them.

It would be hard to make such an image if you were in the same year as Harry Potter.

So you took the chance of just doing well with your new subjects and learn and understand as much as you can.

Your Y/n Brighton after all!

Or where you?

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

You don’t know how excited I am to do this series I’ve had this idea for a while now and I just want to hope you guys will like this series, yes a series, for how long? I do not know, Have I already thought who would be Y/n’s love interest? Yes and there will be no love interest cause Y/n is an independent queen who always speaks her mind and will never be shut up.

Also I would like to think reader would look like Lily and has red hair but has James eyes, Like Harry looking like his Father but has his Mothers eyes, also I guess I’ll be putting stuff I learnt about when I started reading the Harry Potter books, I haven’t finished but it’s better than not being able to read it yet and I had to make reader be sorted into Slytherin cause #Normalizesiblingsindifferenthouses.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Book Four - Part 10

Anti brings the others to help him get Dapper back from Dark, leading to an all-out battle with a half-dozen different sides.

Tws for imprisonment, physical fighting, and fire.

Part 10 - the Houses in the Woods

Anonymous asked: Trick? Dok? You going down too?

“Come on,” says Trick, taking his hand.

“Can’t they handle it?” asks Dok nervously.

“Bud, come on, I’m not going to let him hurt anybody.”

Dok looks at him as they head down the stairs together. He doesn’t know when Trick made it his responsibility to stop Anti from hurting them, but, proud as he is that Trick is stepping up, he doesn’t think he likes it.

Anonymous asked: Dok, we need your necklaces Trick we need you to be behind your true family. We're nearing the climax, and the heroes will either win or lose against the beast among them.

Trick and Dok exchange glances as they reach the door. Trick’s eyes flicker to the necklaces on Dok’s throat. Dok squeezes his hand, frowning. After all they’ve been through together, Trick can feel the rift in the air between them like a physical force.

We’re not on the same side, he realizes a little numbly.

Dok pulls away from him to check on Red, crouching down beneath Anti timidly and taking Red’s head into his hands, examining the goose bump forming on the back of his skull. Trick goes to Anti, clutching his hands and pulling him back from Red.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says. “Can’t be hitting him.”

Anti’s eyes seem to burn, and not just from Blue’s stolen fire. He clutches Trick to his chest and glares around at his siblings, bitter and violent.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes to get ready to go,” he spits at Blue and Red. “We’ll go get Dapper back. If you fail me, maybe I don’t have any use for the two of you little traitors anymore.”

“What am I going to do?” asks Blue, bewildered. “I can barely walk most of the time.”

“Dark’s whole territory is hidden in a mirror dimension, just like that stupid convent where the magicians kept Dok. You have to open the mirror so we can get in.”

“But - I don’t know how,” protests Blue, blinking.

“Well, you better find a way to jog your fucking memory, hadn’t you?” snaps Anti. “Otherwise maybe I’ll have to worm into that head of yours and dig the recollection out.”

Blue and Red exchange looks, alarmed. Anti stalks past them, pulling Trick with him as he goes.

“Whoa, Anti, hold on, I want to talk to - ”

“Dok can have you back when he has those necklaces off his goddamn throat,” spits Anti, yanking him down the hallway.

“But that’s my - ”

“You want to start causing me problems too, Trick?” shouts Anti, whirling on him.

Trick’s lip trembles. He lets Anti lead him back towards their room.

Anonymous asked: You can have your true name soon, Ro. It'll all be okay soon. Hold on for us, Jackie. Losing a small battle doesn't mean you're losing this war.

Red pulls Blue to his feet and they stand together, turning to see Dok padding listlessly after his twin. Blue moves to go after him, but Red pulls him back.

“Do you remember anything about mirror dimensions?” asks Red.

“No,” answers Blue. “No, it’s totally random, out of nowhere. How would I know anything about that?”

“He seems to think you would.”

“Well, if I did, he took the memories from me.”

Red sighs. “Maybe it’s a muscle memory thing? Those are different than memories of actual events or memories of everyday facts. Maybe once we get to the mirror it’ll be an everyday fact thing.”

Blue shakes his head, biting down hard on the nail of his thumb. “He’s going to possess me again if I don’t remember,” he whispers.

“You’ll remember,” Red insists, but even as he says it it doesn’t feel true. If Anti doesn’t know and Blue doesn’t remember, who would?

Anonymous asked: Do you remember the early days Trick? Where you and Dok desperately tried to save the Henrik and Chase within you, having to watch Anti tear the two of you apart day after day. The snake in the rabbit's den. Don't let him steal your heart from your family. Trick, you need to find the Chase within you that you and your twin fought so hard to save in the early days. You need to be their guard, their hero, before Anti kills them or worse.

Trick’s face scrunches up with distress. He pulls on Anti’s hand, looking back at Dok, staring miserably after him from the back of the hallway.

“Let me go with you and the others,” pleads Trick.

“What? No. You could get hurt.”

“So could they!”

“I don’t care about that,” spits Anti, pulling him to his chest. “You’ll stay in your room.”

“I want to be there if something happens to you,” Trick insists, gripping his hands. “I’ll stay back and I’ll cover you with my gun. Anti, you’re upset, you’re getting into a fight, you don’t even trust the others right now. Let me go with you. As a guard. That’s all.”

Anti softens a little, gazing at him. He pushes Trick gently towards the stairs. “I’ll… think about it. Go get dressed. We’ll see.”

Trick obeys, moving to get his gun and some better clothes.

Things are complicated in his head right now, but you’re right about one thing: he needs to be their guard.

scunneredzombie asked: Red, do you remember at all the password that Henrik used when you were sent back in time last time? Or Dok, do you remember anything you were told by the magicians?

Dok frowns, turning back to the others. “I remember… Nina would speak to the mirror? And it would let her step through it. I remember that when you’re in the mirror, it’s like a loop no matter how far you walk.”

Red nods slowly, glancing between the pair of them. “Right. When Dapper and I went back to the - I mean, I remember something. I think we lived in a mirror like that too, one Blue made for us to be safe in. I remember we had to speak to it too to get out. Like a password. ‘Amo, vale.’“

Blue laughs weakly. “That means ‘I love you, goodbye.’ Or almost, anyway.”

“But when Nina left the mirror, she said something in Spanish,” says Dok. “Not ‘te amo’ or anything like that, I don’t think. If it is like a password, I bet it’s unique to every mirror.”

“So how do we figure out the password?”

Anonymous asked: Hey Shep, no idea if you have a camera right now, but you know anything about mirror dimesons by any chance? Just random curiosity!

“Well, I don’t know anything about them, exactly, except that Dark and Wil made one for the houses,” answers Shep.

He’s walking around the forest, still looking for Noodle. Determined.

“It’s cool, I guess. Kind of weird. You can really get stuck in a place like that. And we’re supposed to be really careful with it, because if we break the mirror, you can sever the connection to the real world and lose whatever’s inside.”

Anonymous asked: Is there anything funny Wilford says every time he goes into the mirror? He's always really funny, I'd love to hear more of him! Or something Dark says? I'm really curious about you guys.

“Come on, guys,” laughs Shep. “I know you have to say something to get in there. It’s my home too. I’ll give you a hint… Dark’s told you their password before. Did you think that the only thing it would give you access to was a website? They always wanted you to come and find them. Find the truth, they said.”

Shep steps up onto a log, balancing on one foot. “Oh, yeah. And it’s also a son of a bitch to have to read that out every time I want to go home!”

Anonymous asked: Geez, I'm getting whiplash from your overwhelming favoritism, Anti. Don't want your favorite boy to get hurt? So you'll probably lock him in the room again, all alone and miserable? What will happen to him if you don't come back from Dark's place, uh? If you lose, you're just going to let him pathetically wither away, is that it?

Anti shrugs, glancing at Trick as he walks away. “If I can’t have him, he may as well die.”

Anonymous asked: Lmao sorry Shep, not trying to treat you like you're dumb, we're just used to dealing with a very manipulative demon. I am genuinely curious about you all, and thanks so much for hunting for Noodle, you epic hero man. Big hearts your way!

“I didn’t take any offense, no worries,” answers Shep mildly. “And yeah! Ask me anything anytime. I like talking to you… for a long time I figured nobody was interested and maybe that’s why I got thrown aside. Yes, I’ll look for the cat, and then you’ll have something to remember me by this time!”

Anonymous asked: Jackie, Marvin, this might be a long shot, but when you get to the mirror, try reading out this: Lh3EeEeR9z59YWcUB2b7ViHJ8ALQ637

“What sort of a fucking password?” Blue demands.

“Dok, will you memorize this for us?” asks Red.

Dok turns and reads it over. “Okay, got it.”

“That Dark thing really is cruel if it’s making everybody read that out to get in there,” grins Blue.

Anonymous asked: Oh my god, the heist code is the mirror code? It's so convoluted though! How are you guys not getting locked out with that?

“Wilford never remembers a letter of it,” laughs Shep. “But he can transport in and out anyway. And the twins, they usually come in and out with someone there to help anyway, because they’re developmentally delayed. All the rest of us, we write it in our phones or memorize it. It’s actually only the first eight letters that are the code, so it’s not so bad.

It’s just how Dark does things. They’re obsessive over all of Mark’s projects… they hate him, but they fixate on his videos and stories. When Mark found out they actually gave out the password to our home, he only laughed, though. Dark just wants direct contact with the audience, and Mark will never give it to them, but they try at every turn.”

Shep pauses, glancing at you, the camera tucked into his pocket as he searches for Noodle.

“I don’t care that you know, but just don’t tell Dark you heard anything from me.”

Anonymous asked: Remember guys, it's a tool of gaslighting when your abuser tries to convince you that you're a "traitor" the second you stand up to the abuse. Don't let his manipulation sway your thoughts. You are not traitors. You are escaping an abuser who has pummeled you into dirt for years, years of pain and torture. It is not traitorous to stand up for yourself.

“And he can’t mock me for being autistic like that,” grumbles Red, pushing at his hair. “I struggle with myself enough already.”

“He can’t just take Trick away from me,” agrees Dok, his eyebrows drawn unhappily together. “He’s just being a control freak, punishing me for trying to stay away after he said he would kill me!”

“The only reason Dapper is gone in the first place is because Anti was bargaining with our lives for his and Dark’s entertainment,” adds Blue. “We can’t let this keep happening. He doesn’t really care about anyone but himself. Even his favorites are getting hurt and now Trick is being locked up like Dap. We have to find a way to get all of us away and finish Anti the fuck off.”

Red flinches, still not comfortable with the idea of killing Anti, but Blue and Dok just meet each other’s gazes, steadfast.

Anonymous asked: Jackie, why are you uncomfortable with it, if I can ask? He just confirmed he never loved you, he's threatening to kill all of you, saying Trick is better dead than free, he let Dapper get stolen and taken away from safety and his medicine. He's going to be the death of all of you unless you get to him first. It's looking like it's the only way to save them. Be their warrior, protect them now when they need it most.

Ro turns away from you, a flash of anger in his face. He doesn’t answer.

“Roser,” says Blue.

Red waves him off, stepping out of the room and walking back down the hallway.

Anonymous asked: Also, guys, be very very careful, you can't break the mirror while JJ is in there, or apparently you risk losing everything and everyone inside.

“Oh, fuck, okay,” says Blue, nodding his head. “Yeah, we’ll be real careful. Thanks, guys… I don’t know how this would have worked out without you. I think we’ll go pretty soon. Are we… ready for that? Last words before a big fight?”

He looks at Dok, who looks back, not able to give him a smile. He touches Dok’s head and pulls him to his shoulder, knocking their heads together.

“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” he says.

“You don’t know,” answers Dok frailly.

“I’m going to find a way to get you away from him.”

“We’re still not all on the same page,” murmurs Dok, closing his eyes. “That’s what the magicians told me, again and again. That we have to all be fighting him. And we’re just not, Blue. Trick still loves him. Dapper doesn’t even seem to remember what it’s like to hope for something better. Are the three of us enough to do this?”

Blue sighs, rubbing his shoulder. “We’re just going to see how this turns out, honey.”

Anonymous asked: Trick, sometimes when life is scary, you’ll want to go back to where you understood it. But you can’t go back, whether you want to or not. Understanding will come, but you have to fight tooth and nail for it. Fight through the haze and claim your mind for yourself again.

Trick sits on his bed, staring at Anti as he moves around their room.

Anti plays with his appearance in the mirror for a few minutes, looking pensive, but then you see frustration and pain on his face, and he just transforms back to his usual self - green hair, black tee, ripped jeans. He glitches again and again as he moves, out of control and looking tired and pale, rummaging through the drawers in case there are any weapons he wants to hand out before they go.

“Anti,” says Trick quietly.

“What?” asks Anti.

“You would never really kill one of the others, would you? That’s just your temper.”

Anti plays with a whip, turned away from him. “Sure,” he says flatly.

Trick sighs, rubbing at his head. He gets to his feet and moves to Anti’s side, trying to get his attention. Anti dives back into the drawers. Trick grabs his arm and pulls him back.

“Hey,” he says. “Talk to me. What is going on with you lately?”

Anti sulks, shaking his head, but he doesn’t yank away from Trick’s grip. He plays quietly with the holster on Trick’s waist, tapping at the gun.

“Just angry,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, I’d be angry too if someone I was into started acting like they don’t know who I am, but that doesn’t mean you get to take it out on us.”

“Well, they ran away!” shouts Anti.

Trick grabs his face between his hands and kneels down beside him, drawing his gaze.

“I love you,” he says. “But the reason they ran away is because the way you’re treating them isn’t right.”

Anti wilts a little, glaring at the floor.

“We’ll figure it out afterwards,” he growls, getting to his feet.

Trick sighs. “Go easy on them for my sake if nothing else.”

“Yeah, sure,” mutters Anti. “Whatever.“

Trick squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to feel like this - like you’re understanding Anti better than he himself is these days. He doesn’t want you to be more true than his brother.

But he also doesn’t want to believe that he’s not thinking for himself anymore. This is what he really feels, isn’t it? This is worth putting up with? This is family?

“Are you sure about this?” he asks.

“About what?”

“Going after Dark? Shouldn’t we maybe, like, talk to them before starting an actual fight?”

“They made the choice they made,” says Anti quietly. “And they took Dap. No more talking unless they’re groveling beneath my heel.”

Anonymous asked: You might not all be on the same page, and hell, maybe a couple of you are in different chapters entirely, but you're all in the same story. The others will have to go at their own pace as best they can to reach a good ending for all of you, okay? It won't be easy and it won't be perfect but the most we can do is try.

“And that’s what we’ve wanted all along, right?” murmurs Blue, touching Dok’s hair. “A chance to try. To get away. To protect each other.”

Dok nods, trying to smile.

“Today,” says Blue softly, reaching down to touch a necklace on Dok’s throat. “I think we might get a chance to use some of these.”

“Okay,” says Dok, nodding again. “Okay. It’s going to be okay.”

He’s scared to be tortured again. He doesn’t know if he could survive that. But Blue is here, gripping his hand, and he knows that at the very least the two of them have each other.

It’s going to have to be enough for now.

Anonymous asked: Anti can and would kill them. He /has/ killed them. He used to kill Red and force Dapper to turn back as punishment. He stabbed Dok in the lungs for trying to protect Dapper. As long as he has time travel, he'll kill them without a second thought just to punish the others.

Trick sits back on the bed and shudders.

“We can’t keep living like this,” you hear him whisper, as Anti busies himself around the room.

Anti steps back towards him. “Ready to go?”

Trick sits up, looking pale.

“Yes, Anti,” he says.

Anonymous asked: Trick, sad to say you'll be living like this for as long as you belong to Anti. Anti will never change, and he will never stop hurting you to make himself feel stronger, locking you in rooms to feel like he owns you, killing and torturing your brothers as punishment. He cannot, and will not ever control his temper. You're going to be stuck here until he's gone. You will not escape abuse unless you leave the abuser.

Anti steps close to Trick on the bed and takes the camera from him, turning with a sudden force to throw it against the wall, smashing it into pieces. Trick flinches and Anti laughs, touching his cheek and leaning down to kiss the side of his face and knock their foreheads together.

“Come on, then,” he says, stroking his hand down green hair as you watch from the camera in the corner of the ceiling. “Let’s go. I need to know I have at least you on my side.”

Trick looks up at him, eyes wide. For a moment, his eyes flicker over to you.

He takes Anti’s hand and they move down the stairs.

.

The farther they wander, the darker the trees.

“Is this Dark’s doing?” whispers Red. “Or did they just pick the blackest, deadest part of the forest they could find?”

“It’s Dark’s doing,” hisses Anti. “Now shush.”

The trees stare down at them, sunless monoliths looming like gods over their heads. Birds flitter about like rodents through gutters, but not one of them sings, and the buzzing of insects appears only for a moment before a bigger creature comes to snap grasshoppers and flies up like deviled eggs eaten in one mouthful.

“Are we close?” asks Dok, stepping over the ashy graveyard of what was once a great redwood. “Blue is tired.”

“Why are you here again?” snaps Anti.

“Dapper’s sick, Anti,” Trick reminds him. “Dok needs to look after him.”

“I’m sick of the lot of you,” answers Anti, which makes Red snort despite himself, trying not to laugh. Anti raises an amused eyebrow at him.

“Come on,” he sighs. “Here’s the shed.”

Inside a shed in the forest - which Anti has mostly smashed open in the hopes of ticking off Dark - there is a mirror taller than they are standing against the back corner. Anti pushes his way inside and spiders scutter away from the dim light. Dok leaps back, nearly running back the way they came, and stands back from the shed, watching his feet.

“It’s okay, man,” calls Trick, helpfully squashing spiders beneath his heel. “I got it.”

“Go on then,” says Anti, shoving Blue’s shoulder. “Top magician. Jack’s special boy. Didn’t do you much good in the end.”

“Step off, Anti,” Blue spits back, stalking towards the mirror. “You’re just lucky the cameras helped us with this.”

Anti leans against the wall, picking at spiders while Blue and Dok and Red try Dark’s password. After the first eight letters, the mirror changes. There is no longer a reflection of Blue, tired and pale, in the glass - instead, it looks out like a window onto a trio of houses in a grassy field.

Red and Blue exchange glances. Anti and Red exchange glances. Dok sees a spider by his foot and yelps.

Red puts his hand to the mirror, curious. Slowly, his fingers pass through the glass like water. He draws back again, eyebrows raised, and turns to look at Blue.

Blue is gone.

Anti straightens up in his skin, cracking his neck. “Ready?” he asks.

Red gapes, shaking his head.

Anti punches his shoulder and grabs his sleeve. “Come on, so,” he says.

“Go in there? Get Dapper?”

“I should never have reset you. You and I used to go sneak into shit and take what we wanted together. I hate that the violence is gone from you. You were more fun before I gave you Blue. Don’t know when I managed to ruin you so badly.”

Something about his tone makes Red flush, his heart aching. He looks away, mouth taut, and sucks in a breath. Looking up again, he finds Anti looking back at him through his twin’s captive eyes.

“Fine, then,” says Red, straightening. He turns his body towards the mirror and grips his hands into fists. “I will get him, then.”

Anti passes him a fighting staff. Red blinks and takes it into his hand, remembering the weight and feel of it from a time he no longer recalls.

“After you,” says Anti, pulling a knife from Blue’s jacket.

Red moves through the mirror and into Dark’s home.

“Be good,” calls Anti, clucking Trick’s chin once before following after their older brother. “I’ll be back very soon.”

And then Trick and Dok are alone in the twilight forest.

Anonymous asked: Don't let your loyalty become slavery, Trickshot. Know when to let go, know when you're being held back instead of driven forward, know when their desires drown out your own. Never compromise on self-respect.

“All these messages are for you,” mumbles Henrik, sitting down on a rock in the earth and looking the camera over in his hands.

“They’ve been talking to me a lot lately,” Trick answers just as quietly, but he won’t look back at his twin. He waits at the door of the shed. In his hands, Dok’s gun.

“But you don’t listen,” Dok guesses.

Trick doesn’t answer.

“You’re letting Anti treat you like his toy,” says Henrik, turning away from him. “Won’t see the truths they tell you.”

“Dok, let’s not start, not now, c’mon. Been days since I seen you. I thought… maybe Dark had you.”

Anonymous asked: If you don't confront it and talk through it with us now, then when will you, Trick?

“Mhh,” groans Trick, looking away. “We’re busy…”

“You don’t want to ever face it,” says Henrik. “But one day, it will be in front of you, and you will already be too late to act.”

“I won’t fail to protect you again, Dok.”

“You cannot see the things that hurt me. You are blind to them. They will hurt me again. You will watch.”

“I mean it,” says Trick, loud. “I don’t want to talk about this right now. For real.”

Anonymous asked: Be strong Trick, and more importantly be /you/. Be the man who would do anything for his family, the person who lets his twin massage him when he's been guarding for hours on end, the person who whispered secret names across the room to your brother. You need to protect your family, your real family. You have a choice coming up, man. Your brothers, or your abuser.

Henrik watches his brother for a long time. Eventually, Trick glances back at him, eyes uncertain.

Henrik smiles.

Trick relaxes a little and comes to his side, sitting down with him. After a moment, he puts his head on Dok’s shoulder and fixes his eyes on the shed.

Watching. Waiting. Guard dog.

Dok massages his back so he won’t get stiff. Trick smiles. They sit in the wind of the trees together.

“We are making decisions these days, aren’t we, mein zwilling?”

“Not between you and Anti, though,” murmurs Trick. “Not making decisions like that.”

Henrik sighs, his hand around his arm. The distance between them has never gaped quite like this.

“It’s sunset,” says Trick. “Are you going to say the Shema?”

Henrik blinks. “I haven’t said my blessings in a long time.”

“Oh. I thought maybe you still said them in your head. After you stopped saying them with me.”

Henrik shrugs.

“You don’t anymore?”

“I feel far away from the Lord,” he says, very softly, staring down at the earth beneath his feet. “And lately I am not the sort of man who is strong enough to keep my eyes on Him while the valley of the shadow of death is around me. I am dry bones in the desert. The blessings begin to feel pointless. I can’t even keep track of my own holidays. Candles on Hanukah… it’s nothing. Or very little. I can barely remember the inside of a synagogue. I feel far away from my community. I feel far away from everything.”

Trick shuffles, frowning at him. “You didn’t tell me you were feeling like that.”

“No. I guess not.”

“You usually talk to me.”

“You’re not a Jew, my friend.”

“But you tell me things like that. You used to. We would say the blessings together.”

“I feel far away from you too,” whispers Henrik.

Anonymous asked: In abuse there's always a 'honeymoon phase' where the abuser apologizes and makes promises to change. But the tension builds, some false law is disobeyed, and another abusive incident happens. Fish and chips, a warm kitten, treats and gifts and Hanukkah candles are all false apologies for behavior that will never change. One reason it's so hard to leave is because you always want to believe they can change. But all the self-improvement in the world won't fix the way they hurt you in the past.

Trick bites down on his lip, his hands soothing along his gun. He looks between you and Dok. “It’s not a honeymoon phase… Dok-Dok, I’ll talk to Anti about you going to services - ”

“Don’t,” says Henrik dryly. “Don’t, I don’t want you to. They’re right. He doesn’t care.”

Trick shakes his head, putting his chin in his hand as he looks up at his brother on the stone beside him. He doesn’t know if he should say he’s sorry or get angry at him or reassure him or what. He never seems to know lately. Feels cold in the air between them. He hates that. All he’s thought about for days is the things that Dok would do to cheer him up if they were stuck in that bedroom together, and now he can’t even comfort him.

He closes his eyes. For long minutes, they wait.

“I’ll say it for you, then,” says Trick.

Dok looks up. “What?”

“The blessing,” Trick says, mouth set. “If you don’t feel like you can have faith right now, I will.”

Dok’s lips twitch. He shakes his head at Trick, trying not to grin. “You don’t know it without me.”

“I do!”

“No way.”

“Shema, Yisrael,” begins Trick. “Uh.”

Dok laughs. Trick laughs too, but he’s determined. He keeps going.

“We’ve said it together often enough. Shema, Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu. Adonai echad…. wa-hafta… w… v'ahav'ta eit Adonai Elohekha m'odekha…”

Dok looks at him, beginning to smile.

He doesn’t pronounce all of it right. He might skip a word or two, and, as always, he stammers. But he fumbles through the Hebrew with his mouth full of love for him.

And as he goes he begins to hear Henrik whispering the English alongside him.

“And you shall bind them as a sign on your hands… and between your eyes… and you shall write them on the doorposts of your home and on your gates.”

They are looking at each other. Trick grins. There is sunset light in his eyes.

Henrik puts his arm around him again and they sit side-by-side.

Anonymous asked: I know you can feel the divide between you and Henrik, even as anti-blinded as you are, Trick. You know you'll have to make the choice between them eventually. It isn't a betrayal to escape your abuser. It isn't traitorous to hate the person who's hurt you. The choice will ultimately be yours, but you have to realize and wake up to the distance between you before you can even come to that. Anti won't change, Trick. How many times has he promised to be better, only to hit you the very next day?

“He has hurt you,” says Trick, his voice very low. “Hasn’t he?”

Henrik presses his head against his shoulder, hiding just a little. “And you too.”

“No… not on purpose.”

“If you have to start by believing that he hurts me, then yes,” says Henrik. “Yes, he has, and he will not stop.”

Trick sighs. “Well. Then… I think you should go.”

Henrik sits up straight, staring at him. “What?”

“I think you should go. Like you want to. You’re an adult, Dok. We all are. We should get to choose. Right?”

Henrik touches his hair. Henrik beams.

“Yeah… yes, of course. But not without - ”

“No,” Trick cuts him off. “Not now, bud. Okay? Let’s just… chill for a bit. It’s going to be okay. And if Anti hurts you again, I’ll stop him.”

“That’s not your job,” says Henrik, as though wounded.

Trick squeezes his hand. “Are the others okay?” he asks you.

Anonymous asked: Red, how goes it? Find anything yet? Dapper is in a clinic room with barred windows last time we saw him

“Stay back here,” Red warns Anti, pushing him back into the trees. “You might use him like he’s at a hundred percent, but Blue’s sick. Be gentle with his body.”

“Get the boy back for me and I won’t have to use him rough,” says Anti, stepping back into the shadows.

“Okay,” sighs Red. “Anything I should be worried about?”

“Everyone in there is either an imbecile, a powerhouse, or both,” answers Anti. “Have fun.”

Red turns towards the house, clutching his fists together. Okay. He’s got this.

Red stalks around the house, swift and quiet, darting through the grass and staying out of the sight of windows. There are three houses. On one of them, he can see Dark and Wilford on the porch, talking and playing with an enormous dog. There’s a movie playing in another, and Red can see a man inside driving a toy car around the carpet. The third house is still until a little brown cat slips out of it and darts away. Red will check out all three in turn if he has to.

Anonymous asked: Hey Shep! You should tell us about you guys' houses. Where is everything, and why does everyone live in separate places?

“That’s it, I’m coming home,” laughs Shep, turning back towards the houses. To be fair to him, he’s been out in the heat for hours and he’s a sweaty mess. “Uh, well, Dark lives in their house ‘alone’… we all know Wil sneaks in there half the time and Google spends most of his days guarding the place like a loyal little puppy. He takes so much pride in being Dark’s weapon, he’s nuts. Won’t listen to anyone else, though.

“We come and go with the other houses. They’re damn empty these days. But Host and Google and Wil and I have our house, and sometimes Ippy comes back to stay for a while. Eric and the twins are all that’s left in the other house. Sometimes Illinois, but he’s in Mexico right now. I miss Bing, shit. I miss a lot of them.”

Anonymous asked: Dapper, you awake? Back in the early days of us talking to you, you said you would only be free if all of your brothers were as well. Well, Dapper, we're doing our best for you, because we care for all of you so much. Jackie, Henrik, and Marvin are on the side of freedom so far. We will keep you safe, and we will protect you any way we can. Wish us luck, Jameson.

Dapper is drawing on the walls.

It’s been his favorite pastime for a long time, ever since he realized Anti wouldn’t punish him for making the house his canvas. His biggest piece was in a defunct pen manufacturer in Sweden, where they stayed for about two weeks, during which time he covered an entire industrial wall in an image of the very ugly aliens from A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

Today he draws Anti in cheap pencil lead along the wall of Ippy’s clinic, coursing the point along the curve of Anti’s curving smile. He looks happy in the picture. His hands are empty and open.

Dapper turns at the sound of the beeping and smiles at you, though you see a glassy film over his fevered eyes and a tremble in his artist’s fingers. His face softens as he reads.

“I care for you too,” he tells you heartfully, touching his chest. “All of you, thank you - for being here, for keeping me company, for all of it. And you know I’d always wish you luck, my dears.”

Anonymous asked: Hey uh, dapper? Are you feeling alright? You look a little bit... off

“I am not really recovering from this whole sickness thing that is happening,” he answers unhappily, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m tired and hot and my head aches. I can’t keep any food down, including most of my medicine. And Dark was right… Anti helps with my psychosis.”

Anonymous asked: Jackie, methinks you should avoid the house with Dark on the porch unless you can't find Dapper in the other two. Google is guarding, and Silver Shepheard is on his way back. Try to avoid a fight and be sneaky if you can.

“Kinda want to poke the bear, though,” admits Red, narrowing his eyes at Dark. “They have to pay for this, the fucking cock-jockey.”

His own insult gives him a burst of confidence as he slides past Dark’s house. A black and brown cat watch him disdainfully, waving their tails at him.

“I’ll check the other two first. Thanks, guys. I just need to find a way to get in and get him out… or get him out from outside.”

Anonymous asked: Anti helps superficially, but you know what would help more, JJ? Seeing a psychiatrist to get a mood stabilizer to assist your Haldol, seeing a behavioral therapist to help deal with symptoms, and being free from a constantly traumatizing environment. You need stability and the help of doctors. Things are probably extra bad right now due to being a hostage in a strange environment. You're not hopeless without Anti, millions of people like you & I cope and live good lives w/o mind demon's 'help'.

Dapper shrinks in on himself a little, playing with his hands. He stares at Anti’s eyes on the wall.

“I remember… getting better while we were all at home, without him,” he signs quietly. “Even the paranoia - and the paranoia is always the worst - even that was better. And whenever I started talking to my hallucinations, the others would have me go stand in the laundry room, and then after a while I could take ten minutes in the laundry room and come out and the hallucinations would be so much easier to deal with. Just from having that organization in my life. And I took a couple medications and nobody got mad at me if I was delusional or disorganized or acting really weird. And I had a therapist who signed. And I went to church and the priest would give me confession and I didn’t feel like I was going to hell. And nothing ever hurt me.”

He looks down at his hands.

“It was easier.”

The admission seems to have taken a lot out of him. He slips back down onto the bed, sighing.

scunneredzombie asked: Dapper, is there a window or door near you? Red is here to get you, but he needs a way to get you out!

“Yes, there’s a door, but it’s locked, and a big window, but it’s barred.” He frowns at you and makes prayer hands. “Tell him come bust me out. I sure can’t fit through those bars unless someone wants to shrink me and put me in their pocket. Like a little hedgehog…”

He begins sketching a hedgehog by Anti’s foot.

scunneredzombie asked: Rojo, be on the lookout for large, barred windows, probably the second of the houses?

Ro creeps around the first house, narrowing his gaze at Dark, his hands still aching for a fight. For now, though, he’ll have to focus on getting Dap to safety.

He moves around the second house, slipping down beside a cracked window to listen inside. There’s a television playing a loud cartoon. Lifting his head a little, he can see the man with the toy car driving it around the carpet and talking to himself. There is a whole crate of toy cars. On the couch, a second man sorts patiently through them, occasionally holding a little figurine up to the light or racing it along the arm of the couch, making vrooming and beeping noises. Red sits back a little, rubbing his palms together as he thinks. He wants to wreck some havoc, but not in front of a pair of twins who aren’t causing any harm and don’t look like they’d be able to comprehend someone trying to hurt them. They’re all clean and content-looking, playing with their cars. Red sighs. Having innocents around makes things harder.

It always does, he thinks to himself, and he feels more than recalls a memory from two weeks ago - Anti taking him and Dapper to kill the man who owns the house they’re staying in now. His stomach churns and he digs his nails into his palms. He still remembers the blood-craze in Dapper’s eyes as Anti helped him bury a knife in the man’s chest - and then, moments later, the hopelessness.

“Come on, Red, come on,” he mutters to himself, creeping around the back of the house.

He doesn’t see any barred windows. He glances into the clearing between the three houses as he waits for his chance to dart over to the third house.

Dark is on the porch of the first house with another one of his soldiers, someone with a voice so loud and booming Ro can hear it from here. His hand is on Dark’s waist as he chatters at them. Ro remembers the weight of Max’s hand on his waist… the smell of him…

“Goddamn,” he hisses, slapping himself. Lately he can’t focus on anything. He’s just… sad. He pinches his arms until he gets some clarity back, gnawing on his lips.

“Dapper Dapper Dapper,” he chants to himself, and it’s this thought that carries him over to the third house, where, at last, he spots a little barred window in a window well to the basement.

Anonymous asked: Jackie, we believe in you! Hero of the day, the hero of all time!

Ro gives a shaky little laugh, but you’ve put a grin on his mouth. He darts over to the window, feeling sneaky and maybe even a little bit competent, which is nice. Maybe he’s even acting a little like Jackie would act. The thought gives him a strange, nervous satisfaction.

“Dap,” he whispers, tapping his knuckle cautiously against the window. He can get his hands through the bars, but not much further.

Something shifts in the room. He squints his eyes through the dim light of the basement room and sees a nervous pair of big blue eyes looking back at him.

“It’s me, dude,” he whisper-hisses, glancing around.

Dapper’s eyes water with relief. He pushes the window open, leaving only the bars between them. At this angle, Red can only just brush his hand against his shoulder, reaching down into the window well, and he can hardly see his hands.

“Are you okay? Shit, I was worried, Carve. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”

Dapper grips his hand and squeezes in forgiveness.

“How do I get you out?”

There’s those big puppy dog eyes. They’re familiar, sure, reassuring and maybe even cute, but not problem-solving. Red squeezes his hand back and tries to think.

“I’ll have to come inside… or get the bars off. Unless you can shrink? Have any Borrower friends in there that could help? Maybe some mice and birds, Cinderella-style?”

Dapper pinches Ro’s hand and he laughs despite his rising heart rate, more and more anxious the longer he crouches here.

Anonymous asked: Dapper was right Anti, you're such a fucking creep. Dying his hair green and roleplaying like he's Jack but still forcing him to love you unconditionally. Touching him like you love him when he's just an object to you. You don't deserve any of the love any of them have given you. You're disgusting.

“He belongs to me,” answers Anti coldly, leaning back against a tree as he keeps an eye on the houses, waiting to see if Red will fuck up or bring Dapper back to him quietly. “I can do what I want with him. Jack never gave me anything but lemons - fine, I’ll make lemonade. Besides, let’s not pretend Chase would be anything at all without me. He’d just be childless and drinking himself to death in the backroom of their house like he was before I kidnapped him. This whole crusade the lot of you have, trying to set them free… pointless. You won’t make them any happier. He’d be miserable with a taste of freedom. You know, if Jack wanted his little protagonist to actually be able to save the day, maybe he shouldn’t have made him so helpless. Huh, like fucking Chase Brody could have ever done anything about me… well, he’s mine now, so there’s your story, Jack. There’s your fucking story.”

Anonymous asked: Hey Anti, this is important. Dapper /needs/ to see a proper psychiatrist, just once or twice, so that he can get a mood stabilizer and other medicines to assist his antipsychotic. You can't neglect him like this, he's schizophrenic/psychotic, treatment and constant medication updates are the only way to truly help him be better. Constant mind manipulation only makes things worse for him if he's away from you even for a short time.

Anti’s eyes flicker over to you and then away again. He’s playing with fire on the ends of Blue’s fingers, eyes flickering from the white light of it.

“Mh,” he shrugs, uncertain. “I don’t think I want him talking to anybody outside of the house. If he needs a mood stabilizer, talk to Dok and have him talk to me. It’s like American health care! You gotta get a referral. Besides, if being away from me makes things worse, then I’ll just have to be better about making sure he isn’t away from me again. Not even for a short amount of time.”

He drops a flame to the earth and then stomps it out with his foot, his gaze watching as though infatuated as even a moment of fire singes a whole patch of earth and sets leaves to blazing. He bets he could burn down this whole forest if he wanted to… maybe set all of California ablaze. Again.

“Letting Dark take Dapper was my fault,” he tells you quietly. “I overestimated how much they cared about me. Let them fool me. It was stupid. It won’t happen again. Not with anyone. Dapper and Trick… they’re reliable. No one else. Almost makes you wonder… if anyone else is even worth trucking with… mh.”

Anonymous asked: Without Blue, you'll have no one to possess: Dapper might snap and Trick can't handle it. Killing Dok would be the worst possible thing you could do if you still want Trick on your side. And like it or not, Red is your watchdog and the others protector. If you kill any of them, the others will turn.

Anti glances at you, his stance softening a little. He shrugs.

“I guess you’re right,” he says. “Just lately feels like more trouble than they’re worth. I think Jack made five to make sure it was too much for me. Maybe it’s just time I started admitting that. Trick and Dap would be cute twins. I could make Trick forget, and I think Dapper would only be sad for a while, cause it’s not like it changes much for him.”

He pauses, digging his heel into the ash of the forest floor.

“No… you’re right, though. I think. Yeah, I can still use them. They all take care of each other - yucky, but necessary.”

Anonymous asked: Anti what will you do if Dapper breaks? And I don't mean just emotionally or mentally because obviously you only see that as minor maintenance. What happens if he can't use his time travel again? Will his loyalty still matter or is it just his power that you use him for? Is he only worth as much as his usefulness to you?

Anti plays with the bark of a tree, picking at it until new growth sprouts from the side of the trunk. He peels it off again and grumbles to himself for a moment.

“I’d still want him around,” says Anti. “I guess. I mean, he’s - like… he’s the only one who… I don’t know. He’s comforting. Fine. But I don’t know if that’s because of the power or because he’s always been mine. I’ve hated not having him with me these last few days. It’s like the whole world is wrong. And when he was in Columbia, I felt like I was going to implode. Like I was going to die. And I was sick at the time, with Blue’s power eating me up. I wondered if maybe I would die before I could ever find him, and not even know if he was okay.”

He plucks apart a leaf from the offshoot he created, tearing it into pieces, which drift towards the forest floor.

“I wasn’t sure if he’d grieve,” he adds. “If he’d grieve if I died.”

Anonymous asked: They don't belong to you, Anti. You don't own them, they're adults that are fully capable of making their own decisions. They have the right to leave you whenever they want, because you abuse them and refuse to learn to control your temper. You're immature and treat them like toys, but they are autonomous human beings that deserve to make their own decisions. Why don't you test it, if you think they love you so much. Just let them go and see if they crawl back like you say they wil. I doubt it.

Anti grits his teeth. The truth is that Red was willing to leave him the moment someone else showed him that he could have a life outside of Anti, and the thought devours him. Blue was only ever here for his siblings.

“Look, I don’t pretend to not be a monster,” he snarls. “Fine, some of them don’t love me. No matter how much I use the hypnosis… it’s not real. But guess what? I don’t care. They still have to belong to me. They’re not getting away from me. Not with air in their lungs.”

Anonymous asked: Dok isn't a psychiatrist, Anti. It's two completely different fields of medicine. JJ needs to see specifically a psychiatrist. Hell, I don't care if you go to the appointment with him, but you need to let him see someone to get his medicine adjusted. Think about it this way, how much use is he to you if you're constantly having to mess with his brain and ward back his psychosis, when you can easily get the same effect with just a few trips to a psychiatrist and a less stressful environment?

“Dok’s supposed to be Jack’s genius. If he can’t handle Dapper’s issues, nobody can. Dapper has always done fine, with only a couple exceptions. Actually, I think the paranoia sometimes makes him sharper, more alert, and the hallucinations keep him scared and confused. He won’t leave me when I make him feel both sane and terrified, when he thinks he’s too much for anyone else to handle. As long as he doesn’t snap completely, his illness is a benefit to me.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, I think you're so insistent that they would never be happy with freedom because you can't stand the thought, the truth, that every single one of them would be better off without you.

“How about you all stop trying to piss me off before I decide maybe you aren’t all worth dealing with either?” snaps Anti, pointing at you in accusation. “Fuckers. All you do is plot against me lately. It’s barely even fun. Maybe I’ll torture the lot of them just to see you whining and begging again.”

.

Red squeezes Dapper’s hand one more time before sneaking around the back of the house, where a glass-paned door looks into the kitchen.

He could try and get in here. He could try and get the bars off Dapper’s window somehow. Or he could ask for help.

It’s as he’s thinking that he notices movement -a figure entering through the front door, their gait thudding and their shoulders set like a statue’s. Red catches a gleam of light through their glasses. Gigi moves like a bear, his every footstep heavy and determined. Ro narrows his eyes.

“Well, then,” he mumbles, tucking you deeper into his pocket. “Do I tangle with that or try something else?”

Anonymous asked: I would try something else instead of trying to tango with Gigi. He's a robot, so he wouldn't go down like a regular human, and the commotion caused by that fight would draw too much attention.

“Oh, boy,” says Ro, drawing back from the door. “A robot, okay. Well…”

He could maybe climb the house. He sees an open window. If he listens, he can even hear a deep, sonorous voice speaking from inside it, as though narrating.

“Mh,” he says. “Could maybe get up there. I can see places to put my feet already. Or maybe… Dok’s necklace? For Dapper?”

Anonymous asked: The voice from the window is a blind man who sees All. Probably not a good idea to try sneaking by him. And... as for the necklaces, if you use it for Dapper, then you won't have it for Anti. Make sure you've exhausted all other options before that, Jackie.

“Okay,” murmurs Jackie. “Well, I think we’re looking at either man-who-sees-all or robo boy. If I have to fuck with one of them, who do I go for?”

Anonymous asked: Dapper's mental health got better when he had both mood stabilizer and other medicines to help with his other symptoms. You need him /healthy/, him being paranoid and hallucinating isn't good for him. You switch so fast between caring about him and tossing aside his issues. Anti, it would take a very simple set of changes in yourself & your personality for them to stop running and conspiring. You can change. You're not incapable of it. Start small, let him see a psychiatrist. Small things first.

“I’ll think about it, alright?” Anti says, turning his head away. “I got bigger fish to fry right now.”

Anonymous asked: Hey, Trick & Dok? Do you think it would ever be possible to get Anti to let Dapper see a psychiatrist and get medicated properly? I know you don't remember, but before Anti took you all away from your home, Dapper was getting better. He wasn't stuck being constantly psychotic and afraid, he was healing. He needs therapy and proper medications. I don't think Anti would ever give him that, he has too much fun abusing him, but... could you try?

“I’ll help convince him,” promises Trick right away, nodding. “If he needs that, then he should have it. You can get his medication fixed, right, Dok?”

“No,” says Dok, exasperated. “I’ve never really known what the hell to do with him.”

“Oh. Well - ”

Something snaps in the forest. Trick is on his feet, gun pointed.

Silence. A flicker of movement. Dok and Trick are taut as the bow of a violin.

Anonymous asked: Shep? Is that you?

You can see Shep on the other side of the trees, frozen as stiff as the twins. His gaze flickers nervously over to you and then back to the twins, his fists clutched. He doesn’t even have his knuckles with him. He didn’t actually think someone would be here. No one’s ever come to their house before. He pulls out his phone, backing away from the trees.

“Who’s there?” shouts a voice. He stills, staring at Trick through the trees.

.

Red should sneak into Host’s room.

Dec. 12 2020

3 notes

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Red should go in through the backdoor with Gigi.

Dec. 12 2020

1 note

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Red should try something else.

Dec. 12 2020

2 notes

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Anonymous asked: Trick don't shoot. It's someone who lives in Dark's house, but he's unarmed. Just be careful and try to come up with an explanation for why you're there?

Trick lets his gun falter, glancing over at Dok.

“He already knows who you are, right?” signs Dok. “Will he try to kidnap you again? Kidnap us?”

Trick grits his teeth and steps closer to Dok, blocking him from Shep’s view.

“You leave us alone!” he shouts. “You come any closer and I’ll shoot!”

Shep backs away again, nervous. He opens Gigi’s name in his contacts.

Anonymous asked: I dont know if there's anything else you could try, Red. But if there is, def look at it. Otherwise, between Gigi and Host, I think at least Host could possibly be reasoned to/ spoken with? Gigi is a no-go. Hes 100% loyal to Dark, and an android, so he'd be HELLA hard to fight. And also he'd alert Dark. Host, im not quite sure exactly where his loyalties lay, but im sure he's hella powerful. So use your words before you try and fight him.

Ro presses himself against the side of the door and hoists his body up. This isn’t like the house where he and the others are staying, lined in decorative brick to give him footholds. Instead, windows make his only path up. While his hands find a grip on the tops of the windows, he suspends the rest of his body with his side against one jutting windowframe and his feet pressing against another, and slowly leaps and drags himself up the side of the house, his worn sneakers threatening more than once to make his foot slip and his body fall. The black and brown cats are watching him from the ground, blinking up at him as he goes.

But he won’t. Today, he’s Jackie, and he doesn’t think Jackie would fall, so neither will he.

“On another day,” comes that chasm-deep voice from the open window on the second floor, “he might have been fine. The Host is not always looking. Today, he is.”

Ro pauses, hiding against the side of Host’s window, one foot on the side of its sill.

“Is he going to turn back?” asks Host in a murmur. Craning his neck, Ro can see the man bent over braille paper and a recorder “Or will he still try to sneak past him? In a trance this deep, it’s possible Host won’t be able to do anything about it anyway. He does not like to interfere with other people’s stories.”

Anonymous asked: Shep, wait, please don't call anyone who would hurt them. Theyre only here because they're following orders.

“What do you want?” calls Shep, a faint shake in his voice.

“How about the little brother you stole?” spits back Trick. “No, stay back! Stay back there, I swear to God.”

“You need to get out of here before I call Gigi,” says Shep. “Or worse, Dark.”

“No, don’t,” protests Trick. “Please, we just want Dapper. Nobody has to get hurt. We’ve had enough, okay?”

Anonymous asked: Just let Jackieboy Man's story play out, please, Host-we-love-the-most. He deserves to be the hero again after all he's been through.

Directly addressed, Host comes out of his narration a little, brushing scattered hairs out of his face. He runs his fingers over his papers, jerking back a little.

“Fuck, what a mess,” he mumbles. “Too many players in this game. How long have I been writing?”

Ro’s foot slips for a second and he catches himself quickly, thudding against the side of the house. He winces hard, closing his eyes in panic.

Host chuckles inside the house.

“Come in, then,” he says. “I’m not meant to interfere, you know…”

“Who are you?” cries Ro, heart pounding.

“Ignore me,” answers Host. “I’m just the storyteller. You are the action-taker.”

Ro rolls his eyes, biting down hard on his lip. “You’re really not going to snitch if I come in your room right now?”

“No.”

Ro pauses. Scratches at his beard. Glances at the trees, where a pair of squirrels are judging him from a few feet away.

He slips into Host’s room.

Anonymous asked: Trick, should you just take Dok back to the house? Shep can and will call help if you don't leave. I don't want you guys to have to get in unnecessary fights. I'm pretty sure Jackie and Anti can handle it from here, yeah?

“If we go back we’ll be in so much trouble,” breathes Trick, frightened just at the thought of it. “He told me to guard the way, so I can’t let anyone in or out.”

“Why do you have to do what he tells you?” asks Shep.

“Why do you have to do what they tell you?” answers Dok bitterly, standing up beside his brother. “At least Trick doesn’t notice when he’s being used as a pawn. You know you’re that monster’s little soldier and you still do horrible things just because they tell you to. Pathetic. You stole our sick, speechless little brother just because Dark and Anti decided our lives were board game pieces to be played with. You just let yourself be used, no mind control needed.”

“Hey!” snaps Shep. “You better watch your tongue, little man! I make my own goddamn choices. Your brother is the one who would have killed Gigi if he were human just because Dark wouldn’t kiss him.”

“Dark and Anti are not creatures to be trucked with,” says Dok quietly. “But we have yet to find a way to escape our monster. Turn back. We’re smaller than you, but we are far from helpless with or without a firearm.”

“Look,” answers Shep, biting down harsher words. “Nobody wants a big fight here, right? Seems like Dark and, uh. Anti? Seems like they had a misunderstanding themselves. Maybe we can work this out.”

Dok and Trick exchange glances.

Anonymous asked: Trick, if Shep were to promise to not snitch on you being out here to Dark, then would you let him through? And Shep, would you uphold that promise? Both of you have lost things, you're even in bad deeds. Gigi was destroyed and Dark's back was injured, and Dapper was stolen. No one else needs to get hurt if you try compromising with each other, right?

“I won’t tell Dark for now,” says Shep evenly, hands raised in surrender. “But I don’t think you understand. Dark is an essence and those houses belong to them. They’re always creeping around. If your other brothers are in there, the chances that Dark hasn’t spotted them yet - slim to none.”

Trick and Dok frown at each other, worried. Dok shuffles a foot closer to him.

“I’ll let you through the mirror,” says Trick. “If you let us come with you. I have a bad feeling about what comes next… I think maybe it’s better if we can try to work together. You’re right. No one else needs to get hurt today.”

Anonymous asked: Hey Henrik, answer when the time is appropriate, but advice about Dapper from a training pharmacist, I would try prescribing him Depakote or a common antidepressant to work alongside his Haldol if Anti will let you! I know it must be very hard to have to be a psychiatrist when it wasn't your field of study :(

“Oh, thank you, yes,” answers Dok, his shoulders loosening a little. “Yes, well. He wasn’t on anything when I first… remember. And he didn’t do very well. He would smoke to ease his paranoia, but then he would be paranoid about getting cancer every time he’d cough, so it did him little good. He’d stopped trying to fight his own delusions. Anti was most of his treatment plan, but he acts so dreamy and lost when he’s in his head. Honestly I just kept trying medications til they worked, which probably wasn’t very good for him either. But at least I was allowed to see him and Trick then, coming upstairs to check on him everyday. We were in Sweden at the time, I think. Or Denmark? Before Norway. I was not even sure if we were brothers. He doesn’t speak so much when he’s really ill. He was just my little patient in the attic. He was the one who called me Doktor first.”

He rubs his hands together, glancing up. Shep and Trick talk quietly by the mirror, faces tense and hands always waiting for the other to throw the first blow. Dok sighs, though a faint laugh falls from his mouth with it.

“Oh. I would like to see all of them well for once in my life.”

.

Red steps uncertainly towards the Host.

“Shy?” asks the deep voice, and it seems to echo through his head. It reminds him too much of Anti and Dark. He slinks back against the wall, cowed despite himself.

“Hmm,” hums Host. “You’re not who I thought you were.”

“Who did you think I was?” asks Red quietly.

“I write a lot of stories,” says Host, brushing his fingers across pages and pages of snow-white braille. “I see a lot of stories. It takes only a side glance. A moment of contact. Stories for everyone I meet. Stories for the people who meet the people I meet. Not all true. Not all real. But possible… possible. Alternatives to the reality we survive in now. I saw, once, a story from a young man Mark shares business with. I thought, for a moment, that you were the protector in that story. The strong man… the hero. Not the protagonist, true. But almost as important. The courage to his tired hands. Defender.”

Ro plays with his hands, his eyes flickering around for a way to slip past Host without coming close to him.

“But you are alternate too,” says Host. “You’re not Jackie. Not quite.”

It makes his blood hot, but only for a moment. For the most part, he feels shame. His head drops. He turns away from an unseeing gaze.

“Guess not,” he answers. “But I still have to try to be… that.”

“Jackie?”

“Yes. Jackie.”

“Well, stop,” answers Host dryly, turning away. “Stupid boy.”

“Hey! What is your problem?”

“Stop living in a story you don’t even fucking remember,” spits Host, already striking his typewriter hard enough to fill the room with click-clacking once again. “Pathetic. You’re wasting a perfectly good character arc on trying to be someone you’re not. You have your own part to play. Jackie couldn’t save his family, Ro. Not for lack of trying, but he did fail, in the end, and that’s why he’s dead and you’re not. If you want to give him life again, it’s time to stop wallowing in your doubt and your fear and your shame in yourself and start being Ro like a real hero would. You better start acting like a hero – today, Roser. Too long the five of you have been stuck in the same painful narrative. Take up arms. Stop trying to remember and be.”

Host turns to him again, and Ro has never seen so much expression in a blindfolded face.

“Or lose more than even Jackie did.”

A cat slips in through the door, mewling, and comes weaving her way through Host’s legs, pinning Ro with a yellow gaze. He steps back nervously, staring at the cracked door. His throat bobs in a swallow. He grips his fists, straightening up at Host.

“What if he’s not enough?” he asks quietly.

“Who?” says Host.

“Me,” he answers.

“Of course he’s not enough,” spits Host, shaking his head. “How dull would it be for a character to be enough all on his own.”

Ro opens his mouth to reply, but Host beats it to him.

“Google!” he calls, turning towards the door.

“Fucking snitch!” cries Ro, terrified.

“There’s a closet across the hall. Run inside. You can sneak past him when he comes in to check on me. This is the only help I will give you. Go.”

He’s too frantic to argue. In a flash, he’s leaping out of the door of Host’s room and shoving himself into a closet full of cleaning supplies on the other side of the hall.

“Host?”

Those thudding footsteps move up the stairs. A fist pounds a knock against Host’s door. “Are you stuck in a vision? If you haven’t left your room since I checked on you this morning, you’ve been static for four hours and twenty-three minutes, including our usual breakfast hours and…”

Ro darts out of the closet on near-silent feet, racing down the stairs with his heart pounding. He throws himself against the wall for a second, thinking someone’s coming in the front door, but it’s just the second cat he saw, a big black cat like a shadow against the wall, letting out a hiss at the sight of him. He races down the second set of stairs and through the little hallway that frames Dapper’s door.

“Dapper!” he calls. “It’s me, I’m here.”

Faint whistling from the other side of the door. Red shoves his shoulder against it, tearing at the handle. It will not open.

“Fuck this,” he mumbles, and a moment later he finds himself ducking into a bathroom nearby, tearing the lid off the toilet tank, and slamming the porcelain into the handle of the door until both shatter and give. The door slides open.

“Dapper…”

There’s his little brother, curled up all lonely on the bed. In the light, Ro can see him clearly at last, and the relief of finding him comes charged with a painful nausea for how ill he looks. It’s worse than a hollowness, because Jamie has always been skinny. It’s worse than fatigue, because Dapper has always been tired. It’s worse than shadow, because his youngest brother has long felt alone. Now, he looks chewed up and spat out, cut open and removed from himself, faint and white and exhausted. He does not rise to hold Red. He can barely raise a hand to greet him.

“Bud, no,” says Ro, because his first thought, in that moment, is that Jameson is going to die.

He moves forward to scoop him up for a moment, pressing him to his chest. He can feel the heat on him before he’s even touched him. Sweat beads against Red’s fingers where he cards his hand through Dapper’s mussed brown hair, gone limp and tired, no longer curling at the fringe.

“Can you walk?” asks Ro, drawing back to hold his shoulders in his hands.

“Not sure,” answers Dapper, touching his wrist. “I feel really quite unwell, Red.”

“They haven’t taken care of you.”

“No, they tried,” protests Dapper. “They’ve given me medicine for my fever and things like that. Kept my wrist clean. I’m much better off than I was a few days ago.”

“Fuck… you could have died if that’s true.”

“I think maybe I would have if I stayed with Anti,” says Dapper, lying his head down on his brother’s shoulder and letting his eyes slip shut.

Red hugs him, grateful for the thudding of his heartbeat. As much as he knows they need to go, he needs even more to feel his chest moving with air, if only for a moment.

“You really are just not having a fun life, are you, Dippin’ Dots?” he says, the weight of it sitting on his chest.

“There are parts of it that are nice,” replies his brother, his hand resting on Ro’s shoulder.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” says Ro. “Like I promised.”

“Okay, Reddy. I’m really quite tired.”

“Okay. Okay. Here we go.”

He raises him into his arms, pressing him close against his body. He’s always tried to stay strong no matter how little he had to eat – not always successfully or healthily – but as the months have gone on he’s been finding his old strength. After wasting away in Norway, he built up corded muscle in Peru with long, difficult hikes up the mountain every day, bringing water and medicine and Christmas presents to his family, and in the past few weeks, with both Max and Anti, he has had good food and plenty of time for the exercise his body has craved. Host was right: now is the time to be strong.

He’s stepping out of the clinic room when he sees the big black cat again, darting away from him now, its fluffy back turned to him.

“Hey,” he laughs. “Did you follow me down here?”

And then, at the top of the stairs – black shoes and dress pants. The thud of a cane against the wood of the floor.

Ro back away, mouth taut, and he watches as that black cat, so dark that the light does not shine gold on its fur, dissolves away into the crowd of shadows that swarm like a cloak around Dark’s dead, rotting body.

“Spy cat,” Ro says. “Pretty sure that’s cheating.”

“I could see you the moment you stepped foot into my territory,” answers Dark, in a voice like a wind through cold water. “Your soul is so frantic it burns just to look at it. Even the ocean of silver power from the little one does not wash your color away.”

“Oh, what color?” asks Ro, curious.

“Not red,” comes the dry reply.

Dark takes a step down the stairs. Their body seems to jolt for a second, and then they must sit down, pain tightening their features.

“Heard my other little brother fucked you up pretty good,” says Ro, taking another step back towards the clinic. “Still not fully recovered, huh? I think I’d be a douchebag if I made fun of you for having a broken spine, but I’d like to offer a generalized ‘fuck you’ if that’s alright. You can’t even get down these stairs to get me, can you?”

Dark vanishes back into smoke and bursts into being at the bottom of the stairs, bone shifting in their broken face. Red yelps and puts Dapper on his feet, turning to wrap his body around him.

“Your little monster will pay for his over-powered tantrum,” says Dark.

“You stay the hell away from us!”

“I’ve never seen anyone as simultaneously intriguing and annoying as he is. But no matter. Soon, I’ll snuff his bright lights out and tear up both the natural and the stolen powers inside his chest, and then he will stop haunting me.”

“You take one more step towards me and I’ll call for him!” shouts Red, extending his fighting staff and whirling on Dark. “And this time he’ll fuck up more than just your back!”

“Call for him, then,” sneer a dozen echoing voices at once, and as Dark’s power begins to fill Red with terror and revulsion and confusion and grief, he puts his hands over his ears, opens his mouth, and screams for Anti.

And in the woods, Anti hears.

Anonymous asked: Anti, don't be brash and let your temper control you. Fight with the wit even Jack knew you had.

Wit – wit, yes, well, this at least keeps his gait steady as he moves Blue’s body through the trees, eyes fixed on the house where he can see his oldest gripping his camera. What you say is true, as he was always Jack’s little killer, clever and powerful, manipulative and built with an instinct for fighting more commonly found in a marten who plans to make a porcupine twice its size into dinner. He was patient, in the beginning, and sensational when the time came for him to cut that porcupine open, and it was his wit, yes, that lead him to capture all five of the brothers Jack created, one after the other, remorselessly.

And yes, even Jack knew he had it.

He remembers the sound of his voice the first time he made his eyes bleed. He wiped the sleeve of a black hood across his stained cheek and met his own gaze in the mirror, and he saw Anti more clearly than he ever had before.

“This one’s wild. Already smart enough to try and get through to the audience. Like it knows…”

His fingers touched his reflection in the glass.

“Hey. I see you. I’m here.”

His fond mouth smiled.

“Don’t be scared.”

Anti remembers.

Does Dark not?

Does Jack not?

It hurts to bear the thought of it, the thought that they really and truly forgot him. He hates it. He hates that you mentioned it. That Dapper keeps saying it. That he doesn’t know what’s happening anymore and he feels alone.

That he sometimes wishes he were still just a notion curled, warm, in the back of Jack’s head, listening to him chatter and breathe.

No. No use for nostalgia now. What he wants are the people he can still have – his Trick, his Dapper, his brothers.

He’s done a lot of bad things to them. Cruel, unbearable things, without reason. But if you give him credit for one thing, let it be this –

Oh, Anti taught his boys to be fang-toothed.

“Where’s my little soldiers at, so?” he sings to himself. “Dok, Trick.”

You see the twins perk up and look over as Anti sends his own message through the cameras now.

“Go find your big brother, Trickshot, and start fucking laying waste. And you, Deutsch – get my little Carver, now. And if anyone tries to put their hands on him – teach them why I use you for torture.”

Steel makes their fond mouths harden. They glance at Shep, and then away.

“If that is what it takes,” says Dok.

“Then consider it done,” Trick finishes.

And he touches his reflection in the clear glass of the mirror, and moves.

Anonymous asked: Alright so we're just going in guns blazing. Dok, Trick, you have any idea of where to go?

“Well, I am guessing it is this house which is all shadowy and dramatic,” says Dok, lifting his chin at the third house, where Dark’s power has cast everything in late-night lighting.

“Hey, you’ll regret it if you go rushing in there at Dark,” warns Shep, shoving himself forward. Trick steps up to him before he can reach Dok, raising his head in warning.

“I have left my little brother to rot too many times in his life,” shouts Dok, moving towards the house even as Wilford steps out of Dark’s house to see what’s going on, smoking languidly as darkness curls around his feet. “He asked me to fight for him! So I will.”

“If you’re coming, then come,” says Trick. “But don’t try and stop us getting Dapper.”

“Fine! Just try not to piss Dark off anymore, for all our sakes!”

Anonymous asked: Hey Silver, I think you should probably go with Trick and Doc. If things get crazy (and they probably will, lbr), it'd be good to have someone reasonable around. I know you can't go against Dark, but I also don't think you want to see anyone get hurt. This is admittedly a big step up from asking you to look for a lost cat, but can you do it for us?

Shep stares at the wash of shadow growing over the corners of his home. He runs after Dok and Trick, expression torn, and when Anti glitches into existence in the doorway of his house, you see him fall back in alarm, eyes wide.

“What’s going on?” he hears Gigi shout from somewhere inside. A sudden thrill of fear pours adrenaline into Shep’s blood, remembering all too clearly the way Anti shattered the android last time they met.

But Anti glitches away before Gigi can reach him. Google snarls, slamming his fist against the door and stepping out to look around. Trick and Dok have already hidden, tucked against the side of one of the other houses. They’ll sneak around the back and get in through the door there, hoping to find Dapper. Shep stares around in a mild panic - but eventually, you see him set his mouth and glance at you. He follows after Dok and Trick.

Host trails out onto the porch after Google, lighting a cigarette with a cold grin.

“This,” he says, “is going to be good.”

ari-trash asked: So you're just going to watch the chaos unfold, Host? You're just going to stand back and let it all happen? Well... at the very least I hope it'll be entertaining enough for you

“Been boring as shit lately,” mutters Host, smoke wafting from his mouth as he breathes out. “I been waiting for Dark to bring me home some fucking chaos. Whole reason I stick around. Nobody gets in to as much bullshit as this family. Google, do you remember when Bim hired an assassin to kill you?”

“Host!” shouts Gigi. “Who’s in the house!”

“I’m blind, Inspector Gadget, figure it out for yourself.”

“Dammit, Host!”

Anonymous asked: Ro, you're gonna be okay. Just keep with Dapper okay? Help is coming

“We’re okay, we’re okay, we’re okay,” chants Red like the words are stuck in his mouth, over and over again. He backs away, wrapped around Dapper, hiding his face in his chest. Dark steps towards them with the thud, thud of their cane, eyes white as spoiled milk. “Help is coming, help is coming, help is - ”

“Hey!” shouts Anti.

Dark stops.

Anti stands at the top of the stairs, haloed in his own venomous, glitching light in the midst of Dark’s shadow. Green and red and cold blue light. He is beautiful and hollow. He is a grave waiting to be filled.

“Stop,” he says quietly. “Back off.”

Ro sees Dark’s mouth curve like a planet.

“Hi, handsome,” they taunt softly, inclining their head, gaze still boring into Ro.

Anti does not taunt back. His shoulders are drawn back, his head low. Blue’s eyes are like the broken edges of a piece of shattered glass.

“Done playing,” says Anti. “Get away from them.”

“I just want to talk,” they answer, extending grey hands like a crucifixion.

“Liar,” says Anti.

Dark turns to him.

“What do you want?” asks Anti, revealing just a moment of weakness.

Dark meets his gaze like a predator circling.

“I don’t know anymore,” they tell him. “For you to stop bothering me?”

“Liar,” replies Anti, very quietly. “Liar.”

Dark grits their teeth.

“I would like you to stop being the ghost that follows me everywhere I go.”

Dapper shivers in Red’s grip, his legs giving out slightly. Dark and Anti glance at him as he crumples and Anti reaches for him for a moment, gaze breaking.

“Back off,” says Anti, stepping down the stairs. “That’s mine. Enough. Enough games. Done playing. Why don’t you come pick on someone a little less mortal, you fucking slug?”

Dark extinguishes all light in the room. Red shouts, scooping Dapper right off the ground. In the shadow, only Anti is visible, Blue’s face lit with his myriad of spasming colors.

“Fine then,” comes Dark’s voice, and you hear their echo give a hissing laugh. “As you wish.”

“Red,” says Anti. “Get him out of here.”

And then he is under attack.

Anonymous asked: Trick, Dok, how bad is it looking out there? I think you guys have a chance but you'll have to hurry, maybe ask Shep which house had Dapper. He's still following behind, yeah?

Shep sighs, reaching out to take Trick’s sleeve, pulling him towards his home. “Come on,” he says, hissing to keep his voice low. “We’ll go round through the back door and get your brother. You can take him while Dark and Anti keep each other busy.”

“Into the darkness?” asks Dok.

“Dude, it’s pitch in there,” agrees Trick, eyes wide. “We won’t be able to see.”

“Can’t you call for each other?”

Dok and Trick cross their arms over their chest, glaring.

“Oh, that’s right… uh, well, he can whistle or something, right?”

“We don’t have much other choice,” sighs Dok, letting his arms fall. “He’s probably scared in there. Maybe even having an episode. He could snap.”

“I bet Red’s found him and they’re keeping each other safe. But we need to get them both out - Dark has a pretty strong effect on the both of them.”

Dok bites down on his lip, reaching tentatively for the handle of the back door to Shep’s house, behind which, nothing but darkness awaits. He hears a slam and the telltale buzz of Anti’s power, so loud it almost feels like it’s making his whole head vibrate. Dark shouts and Anti snarls back at him, indecipherable from the other side of the house.

“Okay,” he says. “Let’s go.”

You plunge into shadow together.

Anonymous asked: Duck and run Red, get yourself and Dap out of there

“Come on, bud, let’s go.”

In the darkness, Dapper is almost completely unable to communicate with him. He feels him trying to sign, but they don’t have time to stumble through it, much as he hates to ignore him. He throws Dapper’s arm over his shoulder and moves towards the back door. Black as it is, Ro does not stumble for a moment. He saw the hallway once and that’s all he needs, same way he can take one look at a building before leaping up the side of it like a pine marten or a slightly over-sized squirrel.

There’s only a second where he pauses.

Dapper’s fever-heat warms his shoulder. He can hear his little brother panting in the darkness. Behind them, Anti shouts and snarls, locked in battle, and Red - oh, he can’t place it, much as he wants to, but a part of him knows he’s been here before. Not here, in this house, but… here.

“We were… trying to get away?” he hears himself mutter. “And you were sick… I needed to get you… home. To England.”

Dapper turns his head towards him in the shadows, mouth parted.

“But I couldn’t get away from Anti. Jackie couldn’t get you away from Anti. And then… Red stopped trying.”

And in the darkness, in the pitch black, Ro feels his little brother move his hands against his chest.

“He did not stop trying,” JJ tells him. “He just… needed to forget for a little while. Because he was in pain. He never stopped trying.”

Ro feels something sharp and tight in his chest.

“Here now,” signs Jameson, touching his heart. “You. Here now. Don’t be sorry. No more being sorry.”

No more being sorry.

“Come on,” murmurs Red, pulling him through the darkness again. “I gotta get you out of here.”

No more being sorry. It’s a waste of time. He needed to forget for a little while, but not anymore. Time to be what they need him to be. Doesn’t matter if that’s Jackie or Ro or Red or a little bit of all of them.

He won’t fail again.

Anonymous asked: Red, take Dapper towards the back door, if you remember where it is. Trick and Dok are trying to find you. Escape while Dark is distracted.

Red crashes into Shep headfirst and you hear them both yelp, drawing back from each other, but then Trick is hissing Ro’s name and reaching out blindly for his brother. Ro recoils when his fingers find his face and Trick knows it’s him, letting out a weak laugh. Ro grins at the sound of it, relaxing, and moves towards him.

“I’ve never been so glad to see you,” whispers Trick. Ro grabs his wrist with a grateful squeeze and feels how good it is to be on Trick’s side like they were always meant to be.

“We gotta go,” he says. “Come on, back towards the door.”

“Dark and Anti are going to hurt each other,” protests Shep. “Are we just… not doing anything about that?”

“Let’s just get out of here first,” hisses Dok, pulling them all back towards the door, and moments later, they stumble out into the light with sighs of relief.

aether-mae asked: Maybe you boys should stay out of anti and darks squabble. Let them brawl it out in the dark like the heartbroken lovesick monsters they are

“I think they’re right,” agrees Dok, already taking Dapper’s face in his hands to look him over. “Oh, my poor buddy.”

Dapper smiles wearily at him.

“Let’s get you home, yes?”

“We are far away from home,” signs Dapper, slumping against his shoulder. “But I would like to go back to bed.”

“I’m getting him out of here. Come, we should all go. Better to be far from this.”

Ro glances at Trick, and then at Shep, eyes narrowed. He can’t read Shep’s face at all - it’s never been a talent of his - but Dok and Trick must have let him come along for a reason.

“I just want everyone to be okay,” grumbles Shep, looking away from Red’s intense gaze. “Anti and Dark fighting like this - it’s stupid. And other people are going to get hurt if this keeps up.”

“Then we should run,” insists Ro. “Right?”

“You might be able to get your family clear, but I have friends in all of these houses,” says Shep quietly.

Ro nods, biting down on his lip. He pauses for a moment to meet Trick’s gaze, and if Shep’s expression is a mystery to him, Ro thinks he recognizes the determination in his brother’s face.

“We’ll stay to make sure Dark and Anti don’t hurt anyone,” he says. “They’re both out of control and we’ve let them play games with us for too long.”

“I’ll stay too,” agrees Trick. “Anti asked me to help Ro. But, Dok - here.”

Trick holds out the handgun. Dok blinks, shaking his head. “It’s yours. You might need it.”

Trick shakes his head back at him. “You have to protect Dap. If someone comes after you, he’s too sick to fight back. Take it and keep him safe.”

Dok takes the gun from him, mouth tight with worry. Trick touches his shoulder and then draws back from him, moving to Ro’s side.

“I need to get the twins before they get scared,” says Shep, glancing back at the second house, where a pair of matching faces are staring out at the growing shadow. “I’ll meet up with you back here and we can figure out what to do once they’re safe, okay?”

Red and Trick nod, stood side-by-side.

“Wait,” says Dok. “If I’m taking the gun, then - ”

He unhooks one of his necklaces and wraps it around Red’s neck. His brother startles, eyes wide.

“Dok, this is your - ”

“Break it and re-tie it if you need it,” says Dok quietly. “It will light up the darkness. It’s a weapon too. If you don’t need it, you can give it back to me. Just… take it, okay? I’ll feel better.”

“Why me?” asks Ro. “Use it to keep Dap safe. Or give it to Trick since I’m the stronger fighter.”

But Dok shakes his head.

“It was always for you,” he says. “Take it.”

The raven rests against Ro’s heart.

Anonymous asked: Keep your peepers people-d, lads.

“Bye,” says Trick quietly, meeting Dok’s gaze.

“I love you,” answers Dok.

“I love you too.”

And for a second, Trick just hates it - the memory it evokes in him, the memory of parting with Dok on the shores of a river in South America, the memory of losing him to the magicians and not knowing if he was dead or alive.

“Hey,” laughs Dok warmly, touching his cheek. “I’ll see you in an hour, yes?”

“Yes,” agrees Trick weakly. “Okay. I love you.”

“We already did that.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“I love you too.”

Dok and Dapper move back towards the shed, hand-in-hand, leaving Ro and Trick alone behind the house.

But only for a moment.

“How touching,” sneers a deep, dangerously steady voice. “That you really believe you can leave this place alive after daring to enter.”

Ro turns slowly, standing in front of Trick.

Gigi glares back at him, hands clenched into fists at his side. A terrible glow rises in his deep brown eyes.

“Is that what we were keeping our eyes open for?” asks Trick.

Red extends his fighting staff.

“That would be it, Trickster.”

.

Inside the house, Anti refuses to tolerate being blinded.

Fire lights up around him in a circle. He burns in the center of it, eyes glowing dangerously with the light of Blue’s flame.

“You can barely even fucking control that,” says Dark quietly. “It isn’t yours. What a fucking parasite you are.”

Anti leaps forward like a snake and strikes at Dark hard, only for his enemy to vanish into smoke. He makes no witty rejoinder and does not taunt Dark anymore. Dark tries to appear from the darkness to grab him, but Anti is lining the floor of the house in flame, illuminating the shadow. Dark flicks his hand and the fire douses. Anti shouts and redoubles his efforts: his fury overcomes Dark’s power and fire grows in the room once more.

“These floors were nice before you got here.”

“I’ll do the same thing to your rotting flesh!” shouts Anti, lashing out again.

Dark blocks his blade with the stern line of a wooden cane, letting Anti score a gash into the side of it and kicking at Anti’s legs, but Anti is swift and vicious and he leaps back with a snarl on his mouth. The speed with which they fight is alarming, so fast that at some points you can’t tell whose strike is slashing forward. Dark vanishes and reappears constantly, and Anti, though solid in Blue’s form, is so coated in glitching and so quick-paced he almost looks to be transporting himself. Dark is stronger, but their back hurts them, and any blow to their spine or chest could down them. Anti is the more savage of the two, but he is bound to Blue’s skin right now, choosing the comfort of incarnation over the freedom of his natural form.

“You look like a demon coated in fire like that,” hisses Dark, circling him for a moment.

Yes, Anti looks like a demon today.

“But you smell like a fairy. And you fight like a human.”

“I’m worse than all three,” whispers back Anti.

“What, then?”

“Nothing,” says Anti. “But that was always what intrigued you, wasn’t it?”

“Stop acting like you’re something irresistible,” snarls Dark.

“You used to tell me I was,” answers Anti, and for a second, you hear something like melancholy through the anger in his voice. A moment later, it’s gone. He lunges forward again and Dark blocks his knife with the cane before striking him hard in the face, sending blood pouring from Blue’s nose. Flowers burst up between the floorboards where the red blood falls.

“Control your fucking power before you tear the house down!” shouts Dark.

“No,” says Anti. “If you want me to stop, kill me.”

“Little monster, it will be my pleasure.”

But it is now that Dark hears Gigi shouting outside, and not just at Trick and Ro. A glance to the window shows them flame growing around the house as well as inside. The fire begins to lick at the trees. Gigi and Trick are hollering at each other, both blaming the other’s master for the damage.

“I’ll burn this whole fucking forest down,” howls Anti. “You think you can act like you forget me?”

Dark vanishes and reappears behind him, shoving him towards the door, and as Anti staggers they gift him a second blow to the face, sending him crashing to the floor. Dark reaches down and puts their hands around Anti’s waist, gripping him too tight as they haul him bodily out the door and over the porch, sending him crashing down onto the stairs that lead up to the porch. Anti lets out a short gasp, touching the back of Blue’s skull, where blood buds up to stain his fingers like ink. He blows out a breath and leaps back to his feet, trying to buy himself time by duplicating – creating false doubles of himself that look real, until Dark is surrounded by a circling trio of Marvins with hatred burning like stars in their eyes.

But Dark doesn’t press their advantage. Their face is flickering again, revealing short glimpses of that same emotion that Anti couldn’t accept when they were in the woods together: confusion, raw and genuine. Their hands are still held out in front of them, remembering Anti’s waist between their palms.

“Get out of my head,” they warn.

“You get out of my heart!” shrieks Anti.

“I’m not manipulating you,” growls Dark, raising their hands slightly – perhaps the beginning of a gesture asking for a pause.

“Well, neither am I. I got enough going on possessing this body for me to be messing around in anybody else’s head,” answers Anti bitingly, setting his three pairs of identical feet.

“Come on,” sighs Dark. “Do you really expect a soul-sight like me to be tricked by your glitches?”

“Which one’s me then?” shouts Anti, stepping forward, all three pairs of himself moving close, into Dark’s space. “And you know I’m not lying if you’ve still got any sight at all! You know that and you’re still – fucking – acting like this!”

A tree behind the house bursts into flame and you hear shouts and the scattering of squirrels.

But Dark doesn’t flinch.

Anti pants in front of them. After a second, his right hand, duplicated three times, reaches out and grabs Dark’s shirt – the shoulder, the back, and the lapel of their fine black suit.

Dark sets their hands on Anti’s waist.

Squeezes.

Hard.

Feels his solidity beneath their fingers.

Anti closes his eyes, a flicker of pain in his face, but, if only for a moment, you see some of the panic drain away from his white face. The double and triple flicker out of existence.

Anti breathes.

He looks up at Dark and he pulls in air, Blue’s heart racing. Ash in his mouth and hands on his waist.

“Asshole,” he chokes, striking Dark’s chest with a faltering fist. “You liar. You do remember me.”

Dark’s gaze breaks, eyes sliding closed. They squeeze his waist again. Loosen. Squeeze. Loosen. Breathe.

“I think… I do.”

“Why’d you pretend?” cries Anti. “Is it true what you said – my soul doesn’t look the same anymore? Can you see Blue’s power instead of mine?”

“I didn’t remember you,” mumbles Dark. “I still… it’s like if I had been a character in a play, and so were you, and then suddenly here you are, telling me to remember the lines we read. But the part of you I remember – you don’t look like yourself at all. You’re not the character. You’re someone else. Someone I know even less.”

Anti grips their wrist, shaking his head. “Don’t say that.”

“You can’t admit it to yourself,” Dark murmurs, withdrawing slightly. Around them, the heat and smoke is only rising. “That I don’t remember all of it. I can see the fear it puts in you.”

“What am I supposed to believe? Who could have done something like this? Not my Dapper. That’s a lie. Not him. The others have already – have already done what they’ve done. But not him and not Trick. Those are mine. You – you were mine, Dark, fuck you!”

He shoves Dark back and grabs their jacket, pulling them close.

“Tell me you remember me! And you were pretending! And you know me and now you’ll start acting like yourself again! Tell me that, now!”

But Dark is pulling away from him, shaking their head.

“Dark! Tell me that and mean it, goddammit!”

“You are a piece of something now far away from me,” says Dark. “But right now, all you are is a threat, and I will play games no longer.”

“Pangur Dubh!” screams Anti, voice breaking. “It’s me!”

“Wilford,” says Dark.

Anti hears the cock of a gun.

He throws Blue’s body back, falling back onto the porch again just in time for the bullet to miss him. Dark vanishes back into shadow and Anti turns his eyes to Wilford, who isn’t even reloading – just looking at him with a sort of strange pity in his eyes.

Anti –

Oh, fuck.

Shit, he –

He’s had enough.

He’s had enough. He’s had it. Humiliation washes over him so hot and loud it almost makes him dizzy, and Blue’s fragile little body aches against his trapped form even as it protects him from the side effects of stealing Marvin’s power, and he’s tired, and he’s scared, and he wants to go home.

But only for a moment.

Because, for a long, long, long time, he has learned one very dangerous skill:

Turn all of that into rage, and let it swallow you whole.

“Anti, you’re going to burn the whole fucking forest down! Dapper can’t reverse right now!”

“There are still people nearby! Dapper and Dok and others who haven’t hurt us!”

“Make him stop, please, please! Dark, do something, Wil, shoot him, make him stop!”

“Dark, you have to stop this. Where did you go?”

Trick and Red and Shep and Gigi’s voices are lost in the pounding of the blood in Anti’s head. Even Host is retreating now, stepping away from the porch and out onto the grass as the fire spreads, the amusement disappearing from his mouth. Anti chokes on his anger, eyes watering with the force of it, and blood gushes from his throat so fast he’s faint. At this point, he doesn’t think he could control the fire if he wanted to. He remembers Blue’s burst of power at the top of the mountain, sending plant life exploding through the rocks and sand.

Now I’m the one who’s out of control, he realizes faintly.

And a voice in his head answers, pleads, begs:

Anti. Give it back to me and I will make it stop.

Marvin, he answers. I wasn’t lying. I don’t know how.

All six of us and all of these people here are going to DIE, Anti.

Anti feels heat on his face. Ash on his white hands. Smoke in the air. Smoke like flame in the air. And he breathes. He breathes.

So be it.

[sevenincubistolemyheart]

Lightened Shadows Chapter 2

AU: Final Fantasy 4

Tag list: @xsunnyhoseokx @otomehideout-indecentconfessions @file-missing​ @risefallrise​

Rating: M

Potential Triggers: Pretty descriptive fantasy violence this time around(boss fights will hopefully always be this well written; I’m real proud with how the scene came out so I hope you like it). 

Pairing: Ever-evolving :)

Genre:  Drama, Romance, Angst, Fluff, Hurt & Comfort

Length: 6.2k+

The air was cool from the little you could feel thanks to your armor but you knew it’d heat up quickly thanks to the sun. Thankfully, it hadn’t risen too much given how early it was. 

“Shall we stop in town first?”

Yoongi stopped you as you turned in the direction towards where the cave you needed to go through waited with a gentle hand on your arm, your armor clanking at the contact.

“Hm? Didn’t you say you already got provisions just this past nightfall?”

He smirked sheepishly and shrugged.

“I may have forgotten in the midst of the men celebrating my victory in our spat. Apologies. Shall we?”

You nodded, barely holding back a sigh. 

‘As if I don’t feel bad enough. Now I have to go get supplies and probably scar a few children in the process with my intimidating appearance. Spectacular.’ 

You entered the quaint little village just diagonal to the castle gates and looked around, trying to go through the brief list of what you needed in your mind. 

‘It should be a short expedition; 2 days at most, 3 if we stop to pitch a tent after delivering the ring to get their explanation once you entered the village.’

 You were sure you wouldn’t be welcome there for long. The town of Mist was known for little else than their reclusive nature and had never been particularly fond of those that hailed from Baron, so perhaps best you purchase one just in case they wouldn’t let you stay at the inn as you feared.

Yoongi led the way to the item shop and offered you a wave as he ran off somewhere; probably to attend to some last-minute errand he’s forgotten about. 

“How can I help you today, my Lady?” 

It was a quick transaction; you luckily had plenty of gil to spare thanks to the 500 gil provisions the King’s guard had insisted you take, along with 5 Potions and a Phoenix Down should the worst come to befall one of you in battle. You bought one more Phoenix Down for good measure in addition to that Tent and exited looking around to see Yoongi’s distinctly teal armor. He’d always hated that ugly green the other Dragoons were forced to wear, so he’d had Jin help him create his own armor once he'd been promoted to Captain.

Having experience building airships was surprisingly helpful in creating armor that could withstand some damn mighty blows apparently. 

You exited the shop looking around for Yoongi carelessly as you walked through the town, trying to not draw any attention to yourself; only to look down in surprise at a sudden banging from your armor being hit repeatedly. A small boy was there, angrily pounding on your armor with tears streaming down his face. 

“You took my Daddy away!! I hate you!”

A wince graced your face behind your mask and for once you lowered it, kneeling to the boys’ height and gently restraining his hands firmly in your own. You had no choice but to take many people to the guards if they happened to be foolish enough to run into you. It had been one of the ways you’d rose in rank so quickly; catching criminals. But...it never made it any easier to see the carnage left in the wake of your actions. 

“...I’m sorry. I know there is naught I can say to soothe your pain, but all I can do is apologize. I had a duty to fulfill, and I did as was necessary.” 

The child sniffled, but the hatred once in his eyes had died down to a mere simmer. 

“You don’t seem so mean. Please miss...I just want my Daddy back. Mommy said he’s served all his time; can’t you get him for me? I promise I’ll work doubly hard to ensure we’re never poor enough to have to steal again!”

He seemed so proud, puffing his chest out, and as you released his hands he placed them on his hips in a show of how strong he could and would be. 

A glance upwards saw his Mother suddenly rushing towards you both and the woman was on the floor on her knees, hands, and head both level to the ground at your feet. 

“Please Lady Captain! Forgive my boy! He means no harm!” 

Your heart clenched as you stood and the boy seemed distressed, seemingly coming to the conclusion that you were leaving as he grabbed onto your arm. 

“Miss, please! His name is Raisoro. Even if it's not today please at least look for him when next you return to the castle!”

You noticed Yoongi waiting as the crowd parted and knew you'd have to make this quick. He'd never been good with this kind of situation. 

You nodded resolutely, meeting the boy’s eyes.

"I swear it on my role as a Dark Knight…"

You met the mother's eyes too as your gaze softened behind your visor and you helped her to her feet. 

"And as someone who also loves another. I will check and return for you once I next visit the castle. I have a mission to do before that so it may take some time but-"

"Thank you Lady Captain! You're so gracious!" 

The mother was barely holding herself together at your words and you squeezed her hand briefly before you pulled away after a ruffle of the boy's hair and made your way to Yoongi who was looking on in solemn understanding. 

"...Dare I ask?"

"The boy's father has been in prison past his sentence, caught stealing food for his family. I promised I'd check once we got back."

Yoongi glanced at you from his place beside you as a chuckle escaped him. 

You felt your cheeks heat and huffed defensively. 

"What's so funny!?"

He shrugged with a fond smile as he shook his head. 

"Still too kind for your own good is all. Could have been a lie, an attempt to steal money, or a ploy to stir up rebellion in the town against the King starting with you by using a young boy but you responded so genuinely that even if that's what it was it backfired miserably."

He snickered a bit more, a rare sound to be sure for most but you enjoyed it nonetheless even as you blushed.

"It's my job as Lady Captain. I may serve the Red Wings but the townspeople are my concern too. I guess it probably seems silly since you're of the Dragoon branch, only responsible for protecting the castle and monster patrol.” 

His laughter died but you caught the amused smirk at his lips.

“All the better for me. People can be complicated whereas fiends are useful for little more than target practice and exercises to bring my jumps to larger heights.” 

You shoved him playfully with a roll of your eyes.

“Alright hotshot; that’s enough bragging. Did you do your little errand? I want to check in with Hoseok’s Mom while we’re here. You know how worried he can get about her when he gets stuck at the castle healing overnight.”

Yoongi seemed to hesitate at that but reluctantly nodded and let you lead him to the small house towards the center of the village where Hoseok’s mom had received her own home after Hoseok had received his white cape as proof he was a Baron White Mage. You knocked on the door and after a moment it swung open to reveal Hoseok’s mother. You smiled kindly, mouth guard already lowered out of respect even as she glared at you disapprovingly. 

“What do you two want!?” 

“I just wanted to check in on you. Hoseok wanted to ensure you were eating enough and healthy.” 

She huffed irritably and leaned against the doorjamb as Yoongi shifted uncomfortably beside you, causing her gaze to briefly shift to him before going back to you. 

“I’m doing just fine; no thanks to you. His Majesty’s recent behavior troubles me. I heard you and your boy there have been doing some just terrible things, under his orders or no. All I want is Hoseok to be safe from such gory acts and that’s your job as his lover.” The glare she gave Yoongi did not go unnoticed by you and you noted the way his whole body tensed and his mouth went in a firm straight line. “And that goes for any kind of hurt. Have I made myself clear?”

You maintained your amicable smile even as it felt like you’d just been speared through the heart. Your voice was unbearably soft as you responded, cursing the way it wavered. 

“O-Of course madam. I will protect him till my very last breath if I must. I would happily absolve any pain he has experienced or will in the future if I was only able, so he wouldn’t have to shoulder an ounce of suffering.”

She nodded and raised her chin in superior pride at your answer before she nodded curtly. 

“Good. Ensure your feelings forever remain so stalwart; as do your ideals or the world may lose one Dark Knight.”

With that, the door slammed shut, and the sting of her obvious distrust bordering on rejection cut deep as you all but stumbled away with Yoongi hot on your heels as you made your way through the little alcove at the back of the village to the river where you knew no-one would be. 

You were barely maintaining the lid on your emotions but at the sight of your glassy gaze, Yoongi couldn’t withhold his ire and hissed through gritted teeth as he clenched his fists.

“Who does she think she is talking down to you like that!? Hoseok and you have been together for how many years now? 3?” 

He snarled as he whirled to grip your shoulders unintentionally being a bit rough, not that it made a difference thanks to the armor guarding your shoulders, careful to avoid the spikes. 

“She even dared to imply you of all people would be unfaithful. After everything you’ve been through with Hoseok and me, it just-” 

He inhaled sharply to try and gather himself and his eyes rushed to yours at your watery giggle. 

“Is something humorous?”

He certainly didn’t find any amusement in this.

You smiled weakly. 

“I just find this all morbidly ironic. I told Hoseok just last night how cowardly I was and it seems even his mother agrees.” 

Yoongi wrenched himself away from you with a hiss, eyes narrowing. 

“You? A coward? That is comical.”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand. I obeyed His Majesty’s orders without a second thought. I harmed innocent people-”

“Except they’re not innocent. You seem to be forgetting that. His Majesty explicitly said they knew too much of the Crystal and its secrets-”

“And what gives him the right to decide that!? It’s not our culture or our way of life!! We’ve been focused on technological advancement rather than the power of the crystals for decades...why now does His Majesty seem so intent on them!?”

You covered your mouth in horror at the treasonous words that escaped your lips, and Yoongi had gone eerily still as well before he quickly looked around for any potential eavesdroppers. 

Seeing none, he lowered his voice and frowned seriously at you once again placing his hand on your shoulder. You could see the weight of your words had made their mark from the grim look in his eyes. So it troubled him too. You always knew he was a good actor but his emotionlessness towards this subject, in particular, had admittedly made you feel isolated in your beliefs. Sure, you’d heard the rumors, but they hadn’t been raised by His Majesty as you had. Their opinion simply didn’t hold the same weight as Yoongi or Hoseok’s would. In any case, Yoongi’s low drawl of your name made your eyes lock onto his. 

“They were deceitful and thankfully His Royal Highness caught it in time before they began a rampage against the whole Blue Planet. Let us be grateful for that and move on. Yes?”

Hesitance shown in your eyes but you swallowed back the bitter taste of betrayal on your tongue and nodded. No time to wallow in any case; you had Hoseok to get home to. 

“Enough talk. Let us depart for Mist."

Yoongi finally seemed appeased and he watched as you raised your mouthguard once again though he didn’t comment on it as you both exited the little alcove at the back of the town, only for Yoongi to bump right into a familiar girl. 

“June! How’re things?”

You easily put on a mask of ease, though at the younger girl’s giddy grin you found it wasn’t difficult. 

“Oh, it’s been just peachy! You know Jin...always working! But he came home last night so to reward him I’m baking him his favorite pumpkin pie for when he finally wakes up.”

“He still hasn’t awoken? It’s only a little past dawn but I’ve seen him working well past this just last week…” 

Yoongi mused and you saw the twist of a smirk on his lips when you shot him a knowing glare. 

June huffed at that, shaking her head in disappointment. 

“I’m gonna wring that old man's neck one of these days, mark my words! He works too hard...we’re not that hurting for gil.”

Her last phrase was little more than a mumble but your hand was already reaching for your gil pouch before you could even consciously think. As if anticipating your movements though, Yoongi took a step forward, hand already outstretched with a small pouch, filled to the brim and neatly tied off. 

At June’s wide-eyed hesitance, Yoongi cut her off as she opened her mouth, no doubt to refuse. 

“You’d best take it before a pickpocket does. I’ll remain standing like this until the gil is taken.”

His voice was a low rumble, despite his words as he clearly wanted her to have it, not some thief, and all three of you knew even should he keep his word like you knew he would, he’d merely reclaim his gil and find some other way to give it to the family, perhaps by smuggling it into Jin’s biweekly wages.

June finally took the pouch, and you felt a little misty-eyed as you watched her throw her arms around Yoongi, taking the Dragoon Captain by surprise and making him stumble and fumble to return her gesture of affection with an awkward pat on her back. 

“Y-Yes yes of course, now just release me, will you? People are staring.”

He grumbled, and you were sure without his mask he’d be red as a beet by now. 

Yoongi grew serious, however, and gently caught June’s hand as she went to run off after thanking him profusely. 

“I want you to be sure you go right on home and hide that somewhere nice and secure. Only take what you need and then return to the markets. I don’t want you being targeted for fraternizing with the likes of us. And…” He hesitated but finally handed her something else you couldn’t see as he stepped into her space as he abruptly tugged her into a proper hug. 

“Take that as well. Use it only if you must.” 

He mumbled something else by her ear and then just as quickly pulled away. June looked flustered as well, a little nervous and as Yoongi rejoined you, you side-eyed him with a hint of mirth in your gaze. You were positive he could feel it and eventually after a minute of walking towards the exit he hissed only once you’d both been alone for several minutes.

“What?”

You offered a simple hum. 

“Hm? Oh, I’m just recalling a certain Dragoon mocking me not an hour ago for being too kind. Yet here you are, giving away money I know you’d been saving up for that new lance you wanted. You even gave her a weapon by the looks of it.”

Your voice quieted for that last part as you drew closer to him to whisper and he merely sighed in resignation at that. 

“Of course you noticed. Always so knowing, aren’t you? June deserves to eat. Did you not also happen to notice the flatness of her gil pouch? You know how much they’ve been inflating prices.”

You blinked at that in surprise.

“The item shop charged me the same rate as always. I had no idea…”

Yoongi snorted at that, cool and sarcastic. 

“Of course they would. You’re the King’s guard dog, they know better than to draw your, or my ire. But the townspeople? They are not so lucky. There is a reason people like that family who pleaded with you have had to turn to stealing and they are but one of many.”

“And here I thought I was knowledgeable on the way our people were treated...how do you know all this?” 

Yoongi shrugged. 

“My men have families here; unlike the Red Wings who’re typically born into the military, the Dragoons have always been expected to be enlisters. The practice may have died some with the passage of time but it is still a thing of the present and I asked a few of them to report to me. I pay them a little extra on the side and they know I’m not a turncoat despite being close to His Majesty. You’re the first one I’ve told, actually and I know well enough you’re as good for your silence as I.”

This new information made dread sit heavy in the pit of your stomach. First a degradation of the King’s morality, and now even Baron’s shopkeepers were turning against civilians? You froze for a moment and swallowed nervously. Your King. He was your king still. The just and firm but kind man who’d raised you into the woman you had become. Deep breaths. All would be forgiven and explained when you returned. You were sure of it. Yoongi had said so and he was always right. You just had to have faith. You and Yoongi reached the gate and you looked to him as you ensured your armor was tightened and your sword scabbard ready to give you access to your sword at a moment's notice. 

He too had done his checks and nodded at you, mouth now in a stern frown as he readied himself with grim determination for the journey ahead. 

After a shared nod at one another, you both stepped out into the overworld and began making your way to the Cave of Mist. 

The monsters had been gradually growing more and more feral as the years had gone on. Now they were violently beyond reason, willing to strike at a moment’s notice; including those who didn’t pose a threat. You remembered a simpler time where more docile monsters had been used to train even children, including yourself, Yoongi, and Hoseok. Now, it was a risk of death every time trade happened. Perhaps it was a good thing tensions were so high between the nations nowadays.

In any case, Yoongi and yourself were trained to fight and take out even the most intelligent of monsters thanks to being taught the ways of the sword and lance respectively by your King. Yoongi also had his father for a time to fall back on before he perished. Most monsters seemed to catch onto this and kept their distance from you both, but those either too foolish or too hungry to care still attacked. You remained unscathed, your armor keeping you safe from a particularly volatile Sword rat, the purple beast expelling it’s sharp spines your way. Even bringing up your shield, a few broke through your defenses and you couldn’t help your wince as they made contact with a harsh reverberation as they hit your chest and legs.

Yoongi took a risk and threw his spear at the beast and thankfully it cried out in pain before finally going limp.  He retrieved his weapon and shot a smirk your way, and claimed you’d owe him a drink once you returned to Baron.

That was the only incident you had come across until you reached the cave itself. Since most monsters knew better than to start a fight with you both, you hoped those dwelling within the Cave of Mist would have the same ideas. 

Oh, how wrong you were. 

The larvae and eyewing moths inhabiting the cave were particularly irritating. The moths liked to blind you and the larvae loved to use slow, only prolonging their inevitable deaths. Blind was always a pain to deal with; you both being melee attackers and all. Sure, spell casters and mages were affected as well, but oftentimes they could locate the monsters or other teammates thanks to locking onto their energy if they were fast enough. No such luck here. 

Still, you managed to take them out. However, something strange had occurred, twice now which was not to your liking.

 A voice had called out to you, ghostly and ominous, ordering you both to return whence you came. It had no discernable gender, but the lilt underneath the words made you guess it may have been female. 

Could this be the Eidolon you’d been sent to slay? 

Despite the constant feeling of being watched, the journey through the cave was not a difficult one and you sensed no malice from the entity. Not until you reached the cave’s exit in any case. 

“You are not welcome beyond this point, swine of Baron. Return to your castle and leave this place in peace.”

You frowned at that, ring sitting heavily in its own dedicated pouch at your hip and the image of Hoseok’s worried face in your mind. 

“We can’t do that. Please, I beg you allow us refuge. We have a mission we must see through!”’

“As do I. I take it you mean to refuse my plea then?”

The voice had gained an aggressive but defeated edge and Yoongi stepped forward, all cocky indifference. 

“We have given you your answer.”

“...Very well. Then you leave me with no choice. Forgive me.”

With that, the mist that had not aided your journey in the least began coalescing and you both drew your weapons in preparation. 

A pink scaled dragon had appeared in front of you, and you and Yoongi could both sense the difference in power compared to the weak monsters thus far. You’d used up what little Eye Drops you’d had in stock, and now only had 2 Potions after healing at the slightest injury earlier, thinking you’d had plenty. Luckily you still had both Phoenix Downs should one of you fall unconscious before the other. 

You shared a look with Yoongi and he nodded in understanding, before hopping up and continuing to move from rock to rock, trying to get as much height as possible to come down all the harder on your enemy. Not one to be left out, you turned your attention to the battle, knowing full well you were the only remaining target, and steeled yourself, letting dark energy surround you as you carefully fed just enough of yourself into your attacks to power them up while not causing too much physical damage to yourself. 

It still made you wince and caused an off sensation within your soul whenever you chose to use Darkness but the King always said the payoff would be worth it if the enemy went down. 

Said enemy roared in frustration and swung a large claw at you which you barely managed to dodge before slashing, watching as darkness coated the wound you’d left, seeping in and making it hurt all the more. Your eyes widened in surprise as before you could hop back the creature snarled and jumped, shoving you to the ground with its claws and holding you there as its face lowered towards your vulnerable frame. 

Yoongi couldn’t have chosen a better time to come, slamming down onto the back of the beast, spearing the Eidolon with as much force as he could muster. You watched as blood gushed, ignoring the confusion that hit you at seeing the substance to instead take its momentary preoccupation with Yoongi as it tried to bite him off of its back to get ahold of your sword and stabbing its foot to make it release you. 

It let out a wail of pain, and you knew you were close. Yoongi deftly hopped off and dragged you out from under the creature, tossing you a Potion before he unleashed a flurry of passionate slashes to keep the monster engaged and focused on him. You quickly slammed your mouth guard down and chugged the bitter liquid with a gag and a grimace, feeling the physical aching and the toll on your soul both fade as you regained full lucidity. 

You shook off your daze and felt the power of Darkness fade as fast as it had arrived. Better not to use it twice in one battle and from the way the beast had slowed it seemed the battle was finally coming to an end.

Yoongi was holding his own quite well; he’d always been the more nimble out of the two of you what with having to find the perfect openings to Jump and all and he’d already managed to push the creature back some so you could recover in peace. 

“Shall we finish this?”

He asked gruffly, panting. 

You nodded, but as you went to strike now that it was cornered it suddenly...dissipated into mist? 

Well, that just wasn’t fair. 

“You will pay for that…”

The ominous threat was made good on and you gasped as a snow-like substance slowly fell around you and Yoongi. You fell to your knees at the freezing cold that enveloped you. Damn. This was why you loathed magic attacks. No matter what armor you wore it mattered not. 

You saw Yoongi go down out of the corner of your eye and lunged with a cry of pure, unadulterated fear as the monster came into existence once again and made as if to strike him. 

Claws raked across your back and again, your armor or no, you felt the impact and the pain shortly after, even with the adrenaline coursing through you. You were both going to die entirely if you didn’t do something now. 

You tossed a Phoenix Down over Yoongi, knowing it’d take a moment for the bird of resurrections feathers to revitalize his life force once again, and stood defensively in front of him. A snarl turned your face to something ugly and you hissed at the monster. 

“You want him? Then you’ve got to get through me first!!”

Your cry clearly met its mark as the creature roared in ire at being provoked and you neatly dodge rolled to avoid being hit as it attempted to catch you in its claws, scrambling for your item pouch. You shoved the last Potion’s contents down your throat before you let the power of Darkness surround you one final time, ready to sacrifice whatever was necessary of yourself to ensure Yoongi survived. He wouldn’t have much HP left - that Phoenix Down would only get him conscious and all it would take was one good hit for him to go down permanently. Just as you narrowed your eyes in concentration and went to swing downwards, Yoongi let out an abrupt shout and finished his final Jump; using the last remnants of his own power to finish the battle once and for all before you had the chance. 

The creature roared, in agony this time, and you watched in cold satisfaction as it collapsed to the cave floor in defeat. 

Without so much as a look at the monster that had nearly killed your closest friend you ran over to Yoongi and forced his arm over your shoulder. 

“What are you-?”

“Don’t pretend you aren't barely hanging onto consciousness right now you idiot. I know how Phoenix Downs work. It may revitalize you but it’s only enough to get you off the floor unless you also have a Potion or more on hand.”

You began trudging to the cave’s exit, squinting into the dusk. 

“We’re making a tent for the night, understand? We’ll go to Mist at first light. You’re in no condition to do anything right now besides recover. I’ll take watch after tending to your wounds and you’ll go right to sleep.”

Yoongi chuckled under his breath until he was forced to cough in pain and you frowned in annoyance at him briefly as fresh air greeted you both. It was a welcome change to the musky cave scent you’d both been stuck with for the past many hours you’d been stuck there. That damn mist had definitely cost you time and from how dark it was outside, you’d been there at least half a day. You'd made good time, if nothing else.  

“What’s so funny?”

“You can be such a parent sometimes. I’m fine. Being knocked out happens in fights sometimes. Besides, I managed to save you, didn’t I? I’d say I recovered just fine.”

He muttered cheekily, his voice gruff from being drawn unwillingly out of his unconscious state earlier. 

You grumbled at that. 

“I had it under control. And anyway...it’s dead. That’s all that matters. The only thing left to do now is to give this ring to Mist and see what they make of it. Surely one of them must know, else his Majesty would not have sent us here.”

You gently set Yoongi down onto a grassy hill you’d found, spotting Mist awaiting you both at the bottom. You were a little winded from carrying his weight; like it or not you were smaller and still weaker than him when it came to straight strength. A quick glance around made you relax a little as you sat down as well, taking off your helmet and letting yourself gulp in the fresh air with relief. It really had felt stuffy in that damn cave. Yoongi meanwhile was stripping himself of his armor, and you nodded down towards where a stream flowed steadily into the town. 

“Don’t be afraid to go wash up a little if you’d like once you feel well enough to stand. We can go at dawn as well if you’d prefer, given we’ll be sleeping outside tonight and all.”

Yoongi leveled a glare towards Mist and grumbled as he ran a hand through his messy locks, brushing away the dirt from the cave clinging to his undershirt and pants. 

“It’d be nice if we could just go rest at the inn but I know that’s an impossible venture. Say…” 

He winced as he examined a few of his wounds, mainly scrapes, and bruises but he had a nice long gash on his arm and head bled a bit as well, most likely from when he’d fallen unconscious. 

You could feel your own body aching but tried not to dwell on it, instead rummaging around your item pouch and grabbing a small loaf of bread you'd stashed away and a handkerchief Hoseok always made you carry. A small fond smile twitched onto your lips at the thought of him and you removed your helmet to see better. 

Yoongi had turned his gaze to you curiously, expecting you to stay in your armor in the case of monsters but you sighed at his inquiring gaze as you stood and merely walked over to the log he was sitting on, kneeling in front of him and beginning to dab at his bloody forehead. 

"Silly Dragoon. When will you learn to stop putting yourself at risk huh?"

You pushed the bread into his hands, with your free one continuing to dab at his wound gently. 

"Eat. It'll help you recover faster."

"But what about-" 

"I'm not the one who got knocked out."

You yelped as he suddenly grabbed your face and tilted your head to meet his steely brown gaze. 

"...You'll eat half or I won't so much as touch it."

You groaned as you smacked his hand away, grumbling at him as you uncorked the only Potion you had left and spilled a little onto the cloth to dab onto the cut on his head, the ghost of a smirk tugging at your lips as he let out a hiss of pain and clenched his hand into a fist. 

"You're such a child sometimes. Fine, you big baby. Just eat, will you? Honestly, sometimes I wonder if I should've picked up White Magic as well just to make up for your recklessness."

Yoongi eyed you over the bread as you sat back and sprawled out on the soft grass and nibbled at your half. 

"Don't act like you're the paragon of strategy. I saw how you were going to foolishly put yourself in a critical state to try and take the Eidolon out. Armor off. I know you're injured too and we still have ¾ of this Potion left."

His eyes narrowed with a little playful sadism and you knew he was looking forward to tending to your wounds as well. 

You smiled with a tinge of nervousness and shook your head. 

"No, I'm fine rea-"

"I will come over there and tug it off myself."

"Y-You're too weak to!"

You challenged in disbelief, calling his bluff. 

His eyes sparkled again and a cheeky grin now adorned his lips as he moved to stand, causing you to squeak and scramble away from him as you fumbled with your armor. 

"A-Alright alright! Sheesh!"

His low voice snickered in amusement as you blushed and reluctantly tugged off the heavy armor pieces. They'd been dented something awful in that fight; you’d need to get it fixed at a blacksmith once you got back to Baron. Still, you had to admit having the added weight off of your tired body was a welcome change. 

You were indeed injured as Yoongi and yourself had both noted and you winced at the gash in your side, not having noticed that the Eidolon must’ve managed to graze your side with its claws, fairly deeply. Your black t-shirt was tattered, barely sticking to your body from sweat and a bit from the blood as well. Your head was pounding too, the cool night air alerting you to just how hard you must’ve hit your head as you went down. 

“Come. Shirt off; that looks deep.”

You jumped a bit in surprise at Yoongi’s voice right by your ear, turning to frown at him over your shoulder. 

“I can take care of it myself Yoongi, you should rest.”

He stared you down until you caved with a huff and shucked off the remnants of your shirt. You made a good choice wearing your more flexible undergarments for activity today in anticipation of fighting. Made this all much more bearable, but Yoongi was resolutely focused on your wound in any case even so. You knew he wouldn’t lay down, let alone sleep until he knew you were at least taken care of. It warmed your heart that he cared for you so. 

That warmth faded to a whimper as gentle fingers brushed along the wound assessing the damage. 

“Apologies. Hm...Come. I want to clean this with water first. It’s deeper than it looks. It’s a good thing I brought that extra shirt with me after all.” 

You felt a little woozy truth be told, but you were still trying to keep yourself together. Yoongi had been knocked out after all. He had to be in worse shape than you. You had to be strong for him. 

Yoongi wasn’t buying it though. His gaze locked onto the way you swayed and when he saw you stutter a step as you went to start moving towards the stream nearby, he was quick to grab his shirt and rush to your side where he steadied you with a warm hand on your upper arm. 

“Idiot. How did you not notice you were losing this much blood?”

You laughed weakly, through the dizziness as Yoongi helped to guide you to the water. 

“Adrenaline is a powerful thing, as Hoseok says. I didn’t even feel it until you made me take off my armor.”

Yoongi growled at that, frustrated as he rushed to clean the wound, uncaring as you flinched at the icy water against your skin. 

"Well, we'll have to pray my actions are enough to keep you from meeting an early demise. I know you're strong but even you are Mortal."

The wound now as clean as it could be without magical help, Yoongi reached over for the Potion at his side and poured ¼ of the contents over the wound itself making you yowl in pain. 

He was too focused on his task to pay much attention, however, pouring the other ½ of the bottle onto his shirt which he pressed tightly to your side. He frowned seriously at you. 

"Hold it there, understand? I'll be back in a moment; I have to grab your armor piece. It'll hold the fabric tightly against the wound for the time being."

You meanwhile were trying to cope with the unbearable stinging. The wound had been deep indeed. You could feel the Potions remnants trying to stitch your body together, to slow the bleeding. It was working, however slow, but Ashura above it hurt. 

Yoongi returned after a time and you were surprised to see he was holding another Potion in hand. 

"How-?"

He frowned coldly as he crouched at your side and you registered he was now fully adorned in his teal armor save for his helmet which he'd taken off once he saw you. 

Your suspicion was confirmed when he wordlessly pressed a familiar earring into your hand. 

"You bloody idiot!!!"

Your voice was a poisonous whisper, not wanting to draw any sleeping monsters as you scowled at him and he numbly handed you the Potion. 

"Drink."

You shook your head. 

"I can't believe you went back to loot that Eidolon Yoongi.  What if you'd awoken a monster and-"

Your voice cracked and Yoongi sighed heavily as he saw angry tears make your eyes glassy. You could be so overemotional. You wore facades well around others but he and Hoseok had always been exceptions. You had no need to worry over him. 

"I'm here, alive and well, am I not? My wounds are light enough that a good night's sleep will be enough. But yours are more serious. I’m not risking losing you for the sake of your pride. Now drink or I’ll make you.” 

His voice lowered an octave at his last sentence and you glowered at him one last time before tossing the Potion back, wincing at the disgusting taste, but sighing in relief as your wound knitted itself back together, speeding up your body's cell regeneration a bit. It was no Hi or even X Potion, but it had sped the process up enough to be sure your body would be fully healed by tomorrow, and at least the bleeding had stopped. A touch of your head and you noted the tingling sensation had faded. Hopefully, any injury you had there had ceased to be as well. 

Yoongi had busied himself with attaching just the armor for your side into place so that the Potion soaked fabric would be held against your skin but he turned his gaze to you as he stood and stretched, once again discarding his armor. 

“Well; that’s enough excitement for one night. I’m going to go rest until we have to rise at first light.  Call if any particularly threatening monsters arise.”

You also stood, your own armor halfway back on as you gently called his name. 

“Yoongi!”

He paused, halfway up the hill. His hair was mussed from his rush to loot the Eidolon for your benefit; his long blond ponytail trailing behind him. Long hair has been a part of Dragoon culture for nearly as long as the profession itself had been. It was as characteristic to the culture as the Monks wearing it short, braided, or not at all. Yoongi had mentioned his father had explained that it was a demonstration of the freedom Dragoons symbolized and always fought for. He turned to look at you and his perceptive brown eyes locked onto your own. 

You smiled kindly, gaze sincere. 

“Thank you. I know I can be…” 

You sheepishly rubbed at the back of your neck. 

“A bit difficult sometimes. I appreciate it, and you.”

Yoongi scoffed but you could now clearly see his cheeks turning red in embarrassment before he whirled to finish his journey back towards camp to hide it. You still caught the fondness of his tone though, despite the playful words.

“Always so soft…”

You watched until you could no longer see him and turned back to your armor, finishing putting it on and tugging your darkened helmet over your head once more. Luckily the night was still with the only sounds you could hear being the stream beside you and the chirping of harmless bugs. The twin moons were both full tonight, illuminating the Blue Planet brilliantly. 

Nevertheless, you decided to do a quick perimeter check deciding your newly healed body could use the movement. It was a peaceful night and you heard the faint crackling of torches as you neared the entrance to Mist. You couldn’t help your curiosity as you watched a young girl run to the river, bucket in one hand and a cloth handmade doll in the other haphazardly sewn together. 

She seemed panicked and you faintly heard her voice carry to where you stood just beyond the tree line. 

“Agh I can’t believe I forgot to restock!! Mom’s gonna kill me!!”

She finally managed to get the bucket full but you winced sympathetically as in her rush she tumbled over the bucket and sent water spilling everywhere; soaking her to the bone. Just as you debated emerging to help, an older woman with the same hair and eye color ran out of the town and up to her, a worried frown on her lips. 

“Jenjia just what do you think you’re doing!?”

Her voice was much quieter you noticed thankfully; it would’ve probably been bad if any fiends had been awoken earlier. 

The girl, Jenjia as you now knew her, looked sheepish and beamed nervously up at her mother, clasping her hands behind her back. 

“I’m sorry Mom, I just realized we didn’t have any water to boil! You like to have your tea at night with Daddy and I forgot when playing with Cheryl earlier…” 

She scuffed her worn looking loafers on the ground as her mother shook her head. 

“Well then that’s a day well spent, isn’t it? I’d rather have my daughter home safe and sound than a cup of tea Jia. Your father will feel the same. Leviathan will keep our water flowing clean until tomorrow to refill the stores. Come along now; I’ve already put some beef stew on the stove and I’d rather it didn’t get cold.”

Your heart warmed at the gentle interaction even as a bitter twinge you didn’t want to acknowledge made your chest hurt. You had His Majesty, and that was enough. You never would’ve found Yoongi or Hoseok without him. You turned away as you recalled Yoongi and the girl grabbed her Mother’s hand to be led inside. 

Best you were on your way in any case; it wouldn’t be good if Yoongi woke to find you missing, or if a monster snuck up on your camp.

The rest of the night watch passed uneventfully and Yoongi awoke, as he usually did, at first light. 

You offered him a capful of water from your flask and he drank it gratefully. You’d used up all the food last night; you really should bring more than simple bread next time. Honestly, it had just slipped your mind...this was why Yoongi and Hoseok typically took care of provisions. You always managed to miss something. 

You fiddled absentmindedly with the new earring Yoongi had presented you with last night. It was common practice within Baron to claim trophies from particularly tough monsters and wear them as badges of honor. Typically; you felt pride in a kill and yesterday your mind had been preoccupied with panic and anger but now that it was the next morning you felt no joy, no sense of victory, There had been...no malice or hate that you typically felt from monsters. And it had bled too. It was...odd. 

Still, Yoongi had risked his life to get it for you, and King Odin would surely be pleased with the sight of it upon your return. Best to keep it on for now. 

You jumped as a pair of armored hands abruptly clapped in your face and offered a weak smile to Yoongi as he held out his hand to help you up. 

You grasped it, and he easily pulled you to your feet. 

“How are you feeling?”

You couldn’t help the worry seeping into your tone but Yoongi waved you off. 

“I told you last night I’d be fine and I am. I feel fit as yesterday before we’d even departed. Rest can often be even more healing than a Potion or Cure spell. Now then, shall we go? I’m sure you must be exhausted and the sooner we return home the sooner we can get you some much needed and deserved rest.”

You nodded at that, and after making sure you both had snuffed out the fire and that your weapons and armor were properly set you began your short trek to the gates of Mist. 

It was a tiny village you knew, unlike Damcyan, Fabul, Troia, or Eblan there was no castle, and even Mysidia was more bustling and lively than the few houses dwelling here. It was humble to be sure, but there was a peace and a sense of sincerity here that you doubted you could find anywhere else. 

You fingered the box holding the ring in your pocket, a bit nervous now that you were here. Baron and Mist had never had particularly good relations. You prayed that the King asking for their input would establish a rapport and help you maintain a good relationship. You lowered your face visor, figuring being able to see some part of you that was human behind your demonic looking armor would help put them at ease. 

As Yoongi and you both entered the village you noticed the civilians within already began side-eying you distrustingly and couldn’t help but wonder if word of Mysidia had already spread but quickly reminded yourself that that was impossible. After all; Troia was the only neighboring kingdom and they would’ve had to have taken an airship here just to inform them. A general lack of airships besides Baron aside, Troia was always neutral anyway and pretty much entirely isolated.

Guess tensions with Baron really were high then. 

You suddenly noticed a woman approaching you and recognized her as the mother from last night. Her daughter clutched at her skirt, observing you with curious if shy eyes. You smiled at her while Yoongi offered a respectful nod to the mother. 

“Good day ma’am we were just-”

His words were cut off by your pained yelp as you ripped the now searing box that held the ring out of its pouch. You’d been so preoccupied with calming down the young girl you hadn’t noticed the rising temperature until it was near scorching. 

“The ring!”

The box was rustling wildly of its own accord as it hit the ground, and Yoongi frowned deeply in confusion only to roughly pull you back several feet as he too jumped back. 

The woman too had shoved her daughter behind her and was examining the box before recognition lit her eyes. 

“This is-!”

Boom

The box exploded open and Bomb monsters hidden inside didn’t waste any time as they began setting fire to anything and anyone they could. In seconds the village was burning and the smell of burning flesh was everywhere. You could do little more than watch in horrified shock as smoke already was causing your eyes to burn at the spot the woman had just been. That initial violent opening of the box had scorched the poor woman...and her daughter you noted numbly, where they’d stood. The girl-Jenjia you reminded yourself, she had a name- all that remained of her was her doll, slowly burning away to nothingness in front of your very eyes. Suddenly, an abrupt realization hit you.

The bombs were carefully not targeting Yoongi and yourself.

You shook violently as words escaped your lips in hushed horror, taking in the carnage caused in the wake of your visit. It had to be a mistake, it had to. Yoongi would be truthful with you. You must’ve missed something. This wasn’t happening.

“This is what we were sent to do?”

Yoongi looked around with detached and grim determination.

“He wished this village torched.”

Tears streamed down your face and evaporated just as quickly, whether from the flames and smoke or the horror and disgust coursing through you; who could say? You trembled with rage and clenched your fists so tightly your already dented armor creaked a bit more from the force of it. 

“But why?”

You raised your head to the sky and let out a guttural raw of pure primal agony. 

“Why!?!”

Yoongi remained silent beside you, but you could feel the tenseness coming off of him in waves. This upset him too, you were sure. You numbly looked back down at the ground and it took you a few moments to register a new sound amid the now silent town besides the crackling of the fire and the creaking of buildings as they collapsed in on themselves. Destroyed in mere minutes. 

A young boy sobbing. 

You grimly raised your head and began walking towards the sound hearing Yoongi’s steady footsteps beside you. 

You came across a mint haired boy, hysterically gasping over a woman’s body. Luckily the child was beside the only water source in the town; a small pool which seemed to have kept the Bombs at bay. 

As Yoongi and you approached, he clung all the harder to his mother, not even noticing both of you. You barely managed to make out the words between his heart-wrenching sobs. 

“Mother you can’t die! J-Just because your dragon did!!” 

Yoongi’s eyes suddenly lit with understanding behind his visor and you turned to him in confusion as he nodded to himself. 

“I’ve heard of their lot. Men who can conjure Eidolons...Summoners.”

It suddenly hit you and you mumbled to yourself as it all seemed to come together. 

“Then the dragon we slew...was...his mothers?”

The boy gasped at the sound of your voice and turned to glare fearfully at you and Yoongi making you wince as you met his gaze behind your visor in reluctant admission of your guilt. He stood in an attempt to appear more intimidating even despite the tremor in his voice showing how petrified he was just underneath the facade.

“You...You’re the ones who killed her dragon!?”

You swallowed the bitter taste on your tongue as you pleaded with the boy. Moon above, he couldn’t be more than 10. 

“Forgive us. We’d no idea this would happen to your mother.”

It sounded exactly what it was. Weak and pathetic. There would be no forgiveness. Not for this. Nor for Mysidia. 

You forced your gaze to his deceased Mother and sent up a prayer. As if that would help him now. 

Yoongi looked around and finally spoke up, tone matter of fact. 

“His Majesty sent us to eliminate every last one of these people.”

Your legs finally gave out, unable to take the weight being placed upon you. 

“No…”

Yoongi frowned as he looked down at you, assessing your condition before he began to move towards the boy with grim determination. 

“Foul work to be sure. But we’ll need to kill the boy as well.”

At that you lunged, just before he reached him, hopping to your feet and pushing against his chest plate in horrified desperation. 

“Yoongi!!”

Up close as you were, you could feel his breath on your skin, could hear the hateful sense of begrudging duty in his tone.

“It’s him or us ____!” 

You pushed him with all your might, making him take a step back even with the weakness coursing through your shaky body.

“He’s a child!”

You turned to look down at the still sobbing boy who was too preoccupied with trying to wipe his tears to pay attention to you both. 

“You’d betray your King?”

Yoongi’s voice now held a note of finality,

You turned to fully face him, clenching your hand into a fist and drawing it close to your chest.

“Betray him? Any King who’d wish for this is no King of mine!!” 

You snarled, harshly swinging your arm out in a subconscious show of disgusted frustration. 

Yoongi smirked at you suddenly and you found yourself startled as he scoffed in humor. 

“Hmph. I thought you might say that.”

Your eyes searched for him just behind your visor as you grew hopeful. 

“Then…?”

He looked off into the distance for a moment and then turned to you with sharp determination. 

“I owe his Majesty much but not so much I’d soil the Dragoon’s name in his.”

He planted his spear down with finality.

Your eyes widened and you stepped closer to him in excitement.

“Then you’re with me?”

He made sure to meet your gaze and wordlessly nodded twice in support before he turned, this time towards the destruction, and walked past the boy as he spoke, looking out at it. 

“Baron’s army is the mightiest in the world. Our flight means nothing if we remain alone; we must treat with other nations, share what we’ve seen…”

He hesitated and then turned to look at you once more. 

“And Hoseok, he must share our flight.”

Your tone softened in affection for him and you nodded, stepping closer.

“And he will. Thank you.”

He turned away for a moment and mumbled to himself. 

“...I’m not doing this for you.”

You didn’t hear him and tilted your head. 

“Huh?”

Yoongi ignored you however and turned to nod towards the boy.

“Quickly, we mustn’t linger here! What of the boy?”

You didn’t even hesitate. 

“We take him with us.”

After hesitating a moment you approached him where he was still crouched protectively over his mother’s body as Yoongi watched uneasily but stayed where he was. 

“Come, it’s not safe here! Take my hand.” 

You asked gently, holding out your hand to the boy. 

He hopped away from you with a glower. 

“No!!” 

Yoongi growled low in his throat at that.

“We’ve no time; use force if you must!”

He joined you as he ran over and Jimin cowered away in fear disguised as anger. 

“Stay away!”

You held out your hand as Yoongi and you both froze. 

“Wait!” 

The child began running in earnest and Yoongi and you both followed, hot on his heels when he suddenly curled in on himself with a choked sob.

“Leave me alone!” 

He suddenly screeched as blinding white light surged up from beneath his feet and you could feel the magical energy emanating from him. Yoongi had faltered but you kept running, refusing to be responsible for the death of another child. If he harmed you so be it...you deserved it anyway.

“I HATE YOU!!!”

You felt the earth shake violently and you glanced up to see a massive Titan made of pure earth. The Eidolon raised its hands, your eyes widened and you lunged curling your arms around the boy as you crushed him protectively against your chest as hard as you could just as he fell unconscious from exertion. You felt the Titan’s hands come down onto the Blue Planet’s surface hard and your body flew into the air. 

If you were to die then so be it, but let this child survive at least. 

He need not share the payment for your sins.

You slammed against the ground hard several times, but curled your body inward all the more around his tiny body in spite of the pain, praying your armor would be enough to absorb the impact as you finally, mercifully joined the child in unconsciousness.

A/N:  Welp, I hope those that actually read this series enjoy it; I’ve only gotten one rambly review on AO3 that inspired be to keep posting this so thank them if you enjoy this series and I’m not talking to myself. Anyway! Onto fun notes about this chapter! :) 

I find Yoongi’s characterization and his relationship to Reader to be one of the most fun parts to explore thus far for me this chapter as well as how they fight together in a serious battle. I also delved into status effects some as well as the various uses of Potions! Expect more explained uses of items and such as the series goes on! Yoongi’s look hair wise in Daechwita perfectly fits both the OG character Yoongi is based off of(Kain Highwind). Luckily it hit me as I was going through mvs, trying to decide if there was anything that matched Kain’s lucious locks and there it was! 

Also yay!! Official intro for Jimin! I know he’s never had mint hair before but I just had to include the nod to the OG game after doing Yoongi’s so...please bare with me. These are the ones I felt most fit what I was imagining. 

Hope you all enjoy and please leave feedback it’s a huge motivator for me! Much love hope ya’ll are enjoying the influx of content from me lately! <3

[soulwillower]

i’d like that • bill denbrough

(bill denbrough x reader smut)

requested: Okay but imagine this... Bill w a daddy kink, only if you’re comfortable with that :) thank you, I love your fics

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, daddy kink, smut, a lil bit of thigh riding, a tiny bit of choking like a liiiiitle bit, oral (male receiving), this is dirty... it is also unedited

[losers + reader are in college]

im sorry i haven’t posted in the last few days, i’ve been super busy!! :( i hope you enjoy!!

2.4k words 

♡

music blared, muffled slightly from up the stairs, the bass to some song making everything vibrate slightly. 

the party was stuffy above you, drunk teens screaming and singing loudly, spilling alcohol and making the floorboards sticky. you and the losers were all in a kid from bev's freshman year dorm's house party, huddled in the basement. 

it was a little more secluded, so you were drunkenly messing around with each other. you sigh as you finish your cup, leaning over bill's lap to set the cup down on the table next to the couch.

you shiver as you feel his hand on your back and his breath on your neck, giving you goosebumps. you catch his eyes as you lean back and he smirks at you, his eyes suggestive, but he says nothing. you smile lightly as you look away, your stomach fluttering.

you and bill were something - it was clear to everyone. you'd hooked up a couple times, but you haven't ever really had any time to discuss it further. it was fine, though, because you knew it'd happen eventually. mike was telling everyone that they needed to let him know where they were going to be if they split up so he could find you and get you all home safely, because he was dd.

"you're such a dad." you hear ben say to mike, making him roll his eyes. you chuckle lightly. richie laughs at this, “-that's ironic, because bill is the one with the daddy kink.” richie says loudly, winking at him as he drunkenly snorts. god, richie was wasted. 

“wha-richie! wh-why bring me into this? what does this have to d-do with me?” bill sounds flustered and strained as eddie and richie die laughing on the floor. beverly is smirking into stan’s shoulder. as you look over, bill’s face is bright red despite his grin. eddie’s hugging your leg from the floor, his body shaking in drunken giggles and you laugh fondly. bill clears his throat, biting his lip as his cheeks heat up with a real smile. you lift a brow - that was new.

did he just get flustered? was richie for real?

if he was... maybe you're drunk, but that's pretty hot. 

you’d like that. 

you want to test the waters, so you turn to him. “hey...” you say lowly, and he looks down at you, eyebrows raised. “something wrong, daddy?” you whisper in his ear.

his head snaps to you, sending you a glare. you raise your eyebrows, giving him a smirk as he swallows, face bright red. “w-watch it, y/l/n.” he mumbles lowly. you bite your lip in shock, suddenly feeling heat pool in your abdomen at the way he’s looking at you. you just smile and get up, dragging ben with you to go find some more drinks.

you didn’t think of it again until bill invited you over the next day. his roommate went home for the weekend, so the two of you were going to meet up with the others later. you're standing in front of bill's mirror as he lays on his bed, reading a draft of one of his papers.

"billy, can you help me with this?" you say, walking back towards him, "i can't unclip it." he mumbles in agreement and you spin around as he lifts his fingers to your neck, working on your necklace to take it off of you. 

his body is certainly closer to you that would be considered appropriate for platonic relationships, and you love that you can feel him against you. you take the opportunity to press against him, wiggling your ass against his hips. he huffs lightly under his breath as he pulls the necklace off of you. "you r-really shouldn't tease me, y/n." he mumbles into your ear. you shiver, feeling goose bumps spread over your legs as you turn around.

"does it make you mad, daddy?" you ask, proud of how innocently you delivered it as you lift your eyebrows. something in his face changes and he clenches his jaw. he raises his eyebrows back at you in a challenge, so you slip one hand to tease at his waistband. your fingers dance under his shirt to tease along his taught skin, feeling the muscles underneath you contract. 

"y/n, what're you doing?" he says darkly, his hand grabbing your elbow. you lift yourself up onto your toes and feather kisses along his jawline, breathing in the relaxing smell of his aftershave. 

"nothing." you mutter, smiling against his neck as you feel his hand tighten its grip. "i've been thinking about you all day." you say, pressing a kiss to his neck and feeling his quickening pulse. “wondering if you want me to call you daddy.” 

you feel him swallow and you continue, “because i think i’d like that.” and this time he actually growls, pulling you back before smashing his lips against yours.

you kiss back eagerly, your hands coming up to hold his shoulders as his hand cups your neck. he's pulling you incredibly closer by your neck, his tongue pressing into your mouth. you feel him getting hard against you and you smirk.

 his hand moves from the back of your neck towards the side of it, his thumb pressing into your throat, slightly choking you. you let out a loud moan and he smirks as he pulls back.

“strip.” he says, making your stomach flutter as you blink back at him. he's never been this dominant and it's fucking sexy so you eagerly start taking off your clothes until you're just in your bra and underwear in front of him.

 he's looking at you, arms crossed and looking sexier than you've ever seen in your life. then he's lifting a brow, "are you deaf? i said strip." he orders. you bite your lip with flushed cheeks, unclipping your bra and slipping out of your underwear.

he stares at you and you love how vulnerable you feel under his gaze, standing naked in front of him while he's fully clothed. "you gonna be good for daddy?" he asks and you feel yourself growing even more aroused. you nod, eyes wide in excitement as your cheeks heat up.

"touch yourself for me." he mutters, standing above you and looking down at your naked body on display on his bed. “now.”

you gulp, face turning red but loving the way he's looking at you and palming himself. you waste no time, your fingers slipping down to slick your fingers on your pussy, moaning quietly as you circle your entrance. 

you close your eyes as your first finger enters yourself, moaning louder at the feeling. if your eyes are closed, you can almost imagine they're bill's fingers.

"eyes on me." he says and you quickly obey as your finger picks up, making you gasp. your eyes stay on his and he's smirking and it's so hot that you think you're going to explode. 

"that's right, princess." he mumbles, staring at you. "add another." he mutters. and you do, whimpering at the feeling as you stare at the outline of his cock through his pants.

"please..." you whimper quietly, making bill chuckle, "look at you, so desperate for daddy's cock." he mutters, undoing his belt. your fingers are still pumping into yourself desperately, chasing the feeling of pleasure that's growing in your abdomen. you see bill straining against his boxers and you lick your lips. "you gonna be good?" he asks. you nod desperately as you look into his eyes.

"yes daddy, please.. please." you whimper, feeling helpless and desperate. you love it. he smirks, shaking his head as he pulls himself out of his boxers and pumps his shaft, "on your knees, then." he commands. you eagerly go onto your knees at the edge of his bed and watch him as he pulls off his shirt, moaning at the sight of him.  "use your words." he says, staring at you expectantly. you're so desperate that your chest is heaving as you mutter, "please, let me taste you daddy."

he hums as he places the tip of his cock on your tongue, smearing his precum on your lips. "do you think you deserve my cock?" he asks, his eyes staring unblinkingly at your lips. your cheeks heat up. "please, daddy. please, i'll be good." you beg, getting wetter by the second and taking every restrictive bone in your body not to move forward and take him into your mouth.

he hums, narrowing his eyes as if he doesn't believe you but he's suddenly pushing all the way down your throat and your eyes widen in shock as he stretches your mouth. 

you feel yourself gag around him as his hands hold your head against him. your nose hits the skin around his abdomen and your eyes water but then he's pulling you back and off.

you immediately cough and sniffle, looking up at him. he chuckles, "so pathetic." he mutters before pushing back into your mouth, thrusting in and out this time. your eyes are watering because he's so big and you're swallowing around him as best as you can. his hands hold your head and he's groaning in pleasure as his cock slides in your mouth.

you're aching now, desperate for release, so you sneak a hand between your thighs. "d-don't fucking touch yourself." he says, hips still moving into you as his eyes catch yours, making you whine around his cock. 

you pull your hands away and place them instead on his thighs to stable yourself. he thrusts all the way into you and holds your head against him again and you can't breathe as you feel him hit the back on your throat but you love it.

he pulls you back off with a low moan and you're gasping again, spit slicking your lips. you look up at him, "thank you, daddy." you say and he tips his head back with a small groan at your words.

he pulls away from you and sits on the bed, his cock hard and glistening with your spit against his stomach. he pats his thigh and you eagerly straddle yourself on him, looking at him for directions. he kisses you roughly and places his hands on your hips, dragging you to grind down on him. 

you moan loudly at the feeling of him against your swollen clit and you clutch his shoulders. he guides you, watching as you squirm above him in pleasure, limp in his grasp. "please, i want you inside me." you say quietly, cheeks heating up as you moan.

 he hums as you move against his thigh. "you've worked so well for it." he says into the shell of your ear. you whine, rutting against his thigh to find some release. "please, daddy?" you ask again. you gasp as you feel his fingers squeeze your ass cheek before he slaps it. "you're so wet for me, princess." he says, finger coming down to play with your clit. 

he smirks, pulling you off and laying you down at the edge of the bed to stand between your legs. he spreads your thighs open and you breathe shakily as you watch him lay one finger between your folds, rubbing you lightly. 

you moan loudly at the feeling, relieved to have him touching you. he pumps himself a few times, his cock still slick with your spit and making you groan. "look at you, such a m-mess. so desperate for me." he says and you whine, "please." you sound as desperate as you feel, itching for him to push into you.

"so f-fucking needy." he mutters as he pushes all the way into you at once. you gasp in pleasure and slight discomfort at his size as he sinks into you to the hilt. he wastes no time, thrusting into you hard and deep, making you yell out in pleasure. he groans, "god, so t-tight."

you whimper as he keeps the pace, hitting your g-spot instantly and making your toes curl. you're moaning quietly and his hands are tight around your hips as he pounds into you. he leans down to bite your throat and you almost scream in pleasure as he thrusts into you, leaving a purple bruise on your neck and his thumbs pinching your nipples. swears are falling from his lips and he fucks you into his bed.

he fills you perfectly, pulling gasps and moans out of your lips every few seconds as his hips snap into yours. he grabs your jaw and pulls you in for a heated kiss before gripping your hips and slamming harder. 

you knew you wouldn't last long because of how wound up you were, so when your whimpers are getting higher pitched and you're clenching around his cock, bill smirks. "you want to cum, princess?"

"please daddy, can i?" you whimper, unable to speak the whole sentence because you're focused on waiting to cum until he lets you. he smiles, kissing you roughly and dragging your bottom lip with his teeth. "cum for me." he says lowly, rutting into you.

you unravel under him, holding onto him tightly as you moan in pleasure. he groans as you clench around him and he lifts your legs to hit a new angle. 

you almost scream but instead you kiss him, whimpering into his mouth. he pulls back and snaps his hips impossibly deeper, your back arching at how sensitive you are now. "being so good for daddy." he mutters, his fingers sure to leave marks on your skin from where they grip your thighs and you nod, moaning wantonly. 

after several slower thrusts, he pulls out and spills on your stomach, his eyes shut tight and a soft groan escaping his lips. "fuck." he says after he finishes, meeting your eyes. 

your legs are shaking slightly as he gently lifts them down from his shoulders and you both catch your breath as he rubs your sides. 

you smile lightly, your body exhausted and your eyelids half shut. he grabs a washcloth and cleans off your stomach carefully and you lie there, knowing that the moment you tried to move your legs would turn to jelly. 

he presses a soft kiss to your stomach before climbing into the bed with you, pulling you closer and kissing your hairline softly. "was i too much?" he whispers, lips between his teeth. 

you shake your head, eyes wide as you look up at him. "that was fucking amazing, holy shit." you say, your hands on his chest and head against his pillow. he smiles at you and you bask in the warmth his body gives you.

"h-hey" he says suddenly, causing you to look up at him drowsily. he beams down at you, and all of the sudden he's back to looking like a boy-next-door angel and not the boy that just completely mauled you. 

it makes your heart skip a beat - he always has that effect.

"yeah?" you ask meekly, your voice rough and your throat sore. he's  running his fingers through your hair and he presses a kiss to your nose. "do you want to... like, go out sometime?" he asks - sounding nervous, as if he didn't just fuck you raw. 

you smile, beam actually, because you haven't ever been happier than this moment and you nod. "yes, i'd like that."

[kanene-yaaay-o-retorno]

Caffeinated drinks, black dots and I should’ve stayed at home

Kanene’s Notes: Heya, heya awesome beans! Howz you are all doing?!

I am very glad that I finally finished this idea dfghjkderty. Shinsou was the second character that my mind screamed that I NEEDED to put in a cat cafe and kjhgtrertyu I think that one is a litol more funny and fluff than hurt/comfort, like the one with Midoriya, but worry not! In the end of the day one more kid is adopted :D

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Dadzawa and Yamadad and their relatonship can be seen as romantic, if you wish.

* This happens in the same universe as This Fanfic Here and you can also find it on AO3.

* There is passing out due exhaustion, sleep deprivation and cursing, but besides that i don’t think that there are any more warnings. This is more funny and fluff.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing the manga/anime Boku no Hero.

* Something around 2.500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Oh!! If you have an idea for another scenario in this universe, hmu! I would love to hear it !!Thankys so much for reading this. Take care! Drink water! Eat well!! Pet a cute animal today!! And please sleep a bit, okie? <3 Byeioo!~

                         [~*~]

Shinsou blinked for what it felt the fifth time on the last minutes, which was probably the same amount a normal human being was supposed to blink but right now it just felt wrong. He rubbed his stinging eyes again, suppressing another yawn, firm on his purpose to concentrate his brain enough on the task of remembering his order, an almost impossible action by the way a growing headache involved his mind since he woke up.

The teenager focused again on the colorful, full of doodles of paws and whiskers menu, wishing for the first time in nearly two months attending the place that the drinks’ names were objective and direct, and not awful cat puns that made his braincells prefer to combust themselves instead of gathering the necessary information to remind him of the beverage he should ask.

 He squinted his eyes, dots appearing in the air. Hm. Definitely not a good sign. Maybe he should order two of the most caffeinated drinks instead of just one? He stared the menu again, frustration flaming on his veins as the words blurred and lost their signification, dancing together with the café’s lights.

 And it was only 7 AM.

Perhaps he should have stayed home, on the safety of his bed and the darkness of his room. He knew he should have cancelled his training.

 And yet, even thinking about that possibility made Hitoshi’s stomach be consumed by anxious tugs and knots, leaving an unpleasant taste of displeasure on his mouth. His trainings were one of the best moments on his entire week. They were events he would catch himself smiling as he thought about a newest move he learned or how his body seemed to recover quicker from the lessons. Or even how good, how right and free he felt on the gym, tired and sore, in the moment that his mentor nodded, proudness flicking in his eyes.

 … How amazing it felt to look at the mirror and see that same feeling reflected on his own gaze.

 He couldn’t deprive himself of that sensation, even if dealing with the painful consequences of his sleep deprivation and probably a lecture if his mentor caught him was the only other options.

 “Just one more. Just one more person and then I can ask for the strongest caffeinated shit here.” Yeah. This time those cups would be enough to make him endure at least his afternoon classes, he repeated to himself in mumbles. Two cups. Two cups and some minutes petting a cat and he would be ready. He would be ready for the world and society and the whole being a functional human being thing. And then he would get on the metro and nap until he gets home where he would have the real opportunity to properly sleep. Almost there. Just two cups. Two. Two cups.

 Gosh, he probably sounded like Midoriya, mumbling non stop like this. A mental image of the energetic teen looking as tired as Shinsou and drinking coffee as if his life depended on it popped on his brain, leading to a sudden urge to giggle manically take over the purple haired boy, and for the way some other customers eyed him warily he possible vocalized that impulse as well, limbs feeling at the same time too much heavy and too much light.

 He was so fucking tired.

 “Next one!” Loud. So loud. Shinsou obligated his body to step closer, opening his eyes enough to realize that dark spots still painted his vision. Huh. When did he close his eyes, again? “Good morning, little customer! How can I help you today?”

 Hitoshi stared at the figure in front of him, senses slow like he was under water, trying to understand the distorted sentences being directed at him, the dots growing and twinkling. Black dots were supposed to be able to do that?

 The world swayed a bit under his feet. He tried to move his lips but they didn’t obey him.

 “Little customer?” The voice sounded worried, and maybe that is what compelled the boy to take a deep breath, putting all his will in forming word after word when a nauseating wave of tiredness hit him, leading his conscience’s grip in reality weaken.

 “I am going to pass out.”

 And then the world got completely black, his senses disappearing together with a background screech.

 Well, fuck.

 […]

 Yamada had seen a lot of crazy, strange things while working at the cat café.

 As example that one shift when an adult of blue hair, strict pose and clear exhaustion dripping in waterfalls from his form was convinced that he was in a library and fiercely tried to return a book to them, doesn’t taking a ‘no’ as answer until the blond was left stupefied with a book of “The Secrets Hidden in The Bottom of The Ocean” on his arms.

 Or that occasion when a boy with a blank expression wearing Victorian clothes and completely surrounded by crows opened their door, looked from a side to another, stared at the deepest parts of Yamada’s soul, analyzing all his dark fears and secrets before slowly blink and say “Wrong store, my apologies” walking back and calmly ignoring the hissing and battle yowling of dozens of cats and crows.

 Or the day a green haired woman with a kind, calm aura just walked behind the counter completely unphazed by Hizashi and Aizawa’s unbelieved looks, made two healthy snacks, patted their cheeks saying ‘You two need to eat more, dears’ and then disappeared as if nothing had happened.

 However, none of those events ever prepared him for the moment which purple eyes would stare his in an unfocused state, not really looking at anything and a wobbly smirk – if he wasn’t accustomed with Shouta’s grin, he would easily call it ‘creepy’ – would paint his customer’s pale face, the silence ringing alarmingly on his ears.

 “Are you okay, little listener? Do you want to sit for a minute? You look extremely tired.”

 As the words came out of his lips, a spell seemed to break, the other’s face getting even paler, smile falling and eyes widening leaded his body to stumble forward instinctively, something on his guts screaming for him to get ready. A few other customers on the line grumbled in impatience, looking at their watch and protesting. Somewhere, in the deep part of his brain, Yamada wondered why those things only happened when Aizawa was out and no procedures for those kinds of situations were previously discussed on their contract.

 “Hey, guy,” a blonde teenager behind the paralyzed one said, tipping forward in an attempt to catch the other’s expression, his kimono following each move, “are you… here with us?”

 “Little listener?”

 A hesitant poke on his cheeks, two pair of eyes warily watching a third.

 His mouth finally moved.

 “I am going to pass out.” His voice was light, stitched together by certain. His legs trembled under his own weight, body collapsing.

 “You WHAT?” A terrified shriek mixed itself between Hizashi’s words, flying across the whole store.

 “Oh, shi-”

 His blonde client didn’t waste a second before holding the other, arms locking under his armpits in a strange kind of hug, knees weakening with the sudden, unexpected effort, the limp teenager not even flinching with the touch, laying there completely motionless.

 Hizashi blinked, gulping, adrenaline exploding on each one of his fibers, color slightly draining from his own face, a piece of his conscience wishing with all its strength for this to be only a dream. When his eyes opened, everything would be the same.

 He blinked, the deafening silence still crushing the room, one set of black eyes staring at him in confusion and growing panic, another set closed, heavy, dark circles under it.

 Right. He didn’t have time for this.

 So, he blinked again, finding himself in front of them both, pushing his feelings under a mask of a calm, an easy reassuring smile already slipping on his face, crouching to get the legs of his customer, catching the gaze the other and winking, “let’s get him on a more comfortable position, right?”

 A determined nod, quick, careful steps as they both laid the purple haired one on a small couch placed under some shelves, having to gently dislodge three sleeping cats, who hissed in irritation. The voice of Nemuri, attending the rest of the line filling the space and being acknowledged in the back of his mind, serving as a firm ground and helping his muscles to relax, even if just a little bit.

 Hizashi stared the young boy in front of him, looking somewhat peaceful, a bit of color having already returned to his face, soft snores coming out from him.

 … Hitoshi. That is his name, right? He wasn’t a new client, always coming at every fifteen days, always by morning and always caffeinated drinks that only Yamada - on his most delirious moments - ever thought in trying, quick to go to play with any feline who appeared in front of him. Although, he never stayed more than ten minutes, the quiets ‘bye’s he gave to the felines never failing to melt Yamada’s weak, bleeding heart.

 A childish voice pulled him right out of his thoughts.

 “Mom, is he dead?”

A snort escaped his lips before he could help it. Kids.

 “Sir?” The teenager shook a small device with a shiny screen in front of him, the logo of a new rock band he hadn’t a chance to listen to yet on the background “I found his phone, I think we should call his emergency contact…?”

 “Of course! Thank you, little helper!” He ruffles his hair, flashing a smile and thumbs up as his finger quickly clicked on the call button, listening, not trying to show his impatience as it ringed.

 “You’re late.” A tired voice answered him, and Hizashi felt his entire body relax completely, right before the surprise shook its frame, too much pieces clicking together in a puzzle he didn’t even know he was solving.

 “SHOU?”

 [~*~]

 “I am sorry.”

 “You will be writing a formal letter apologizing to Hizashi, Nemuri and to me, our classes will be cancelled for this week and, if I notice you didn’t recover properly on this free time, for the next week as well. I am not going to stand by and watch you running yourself to the ground, damaging your potential because you lack of some sense of self preservation, do I make myself clear?” Shinsou tried to not visibly flinch at his sensei’s words. He almost forgot how much intimidating Aizawa could be when totally serious. They stopped by the Cat Café’s door, the black eyes staring at him.

 “Yes, sir.” He answered, lowering his gaze. Shouta sighed, his worry stopping to come out as harsh and necessary words to materialize itself in the form of him patting the boy’s head, messing his hair for a few seconds before opening the door and getting into the establishment.

 “Good. Now come in, Hizashi has been worried and he won’t stop pestering me until he sees with his own eyes how you are.”

 Hitoshi didn’t had time to question how someone that he just met – if you consider passing out in front of him a proper meeting – could be worried about his well-being when, as the door clicked behind him, an excited screech filled the room, forging the realization that maybe that weird high sound before his faint wasn’t just the ring of his ears.

 “SHINSOU!!” And, in a blink of eyes, the blonde was in front of him, hands on his face, turning it from a side to another, up and downwards, “You look so much better with some color on your face! I am glad that you finally took some necessary rest, huh? Your eyeshadows even got lighter, which, phew, is such a relief! For a very terrifying moment there I almost thought you would be as bad as this guy right here.” Yamada locked his arms around Aizawa’s shoulder, using the time to take a breather and smile, gladly giving the younger some time to process the flow of words thrown at him. “You gave us both quite a scare, kiddo.”

 “I am deeply sorry for inconveniencing you and interrupting your work, Yamada-san.” He bowed, a slight embarrassed blush dusting his cheeks.

 “Just please don’t do that again and you will be fine, little customer.” Hizashi then squinted his eyes on his direction as Hioshi brought himself back to his previous position, shoulders tense and straightened back, much different from his previous more slouched pose. Yamada’s eyes got a few inches wider. “You gave him The Talk!” He turned himself to Shouta, his excited sentence, loud enough to probably making his friend deaf, if the black haired adult wasn’t already used with the other’s attics, previously covering his ears before the outburst.

 His response was a grunt, Aizawa dislodging himself from his touch with scoff and half heartedly mumbles, ignoring the confusion on his pupil’s gaze. “Maybe he looks like that because of your total disregarding of personal space.”

 “Don’t worry,” Hizashi put his hand at the side of his mouth, as if he was confiding Shinsou’s a secret. “He only does that because he is worried about you, too. Don’t let yourself to be fooled by his grumpy façade. He is a mother hen at heart.”

 “I am going to lock you outside and give all your CD’s to the kittens a their new toys.” The other threatened, going behind the balcony and turning the coffee machines on, preparing the store to open. The few cats who were already wandering around the place yowled and meowed in despair, as if the blonde hadn’t feed them fifteen minutes ago and they were starving under the hands of such unloving and uncaring creature. Aizawa crouched and distributed the treats hidden on his pockets for everyone of them, nevertheless. His friend used the distraction to mouth a ‘see?’ at the younger’s direction, eliciting a snicker from him, his body language more relaxed.

 “Feel free to do whatever,” Aizawa proclaimed, not staring at the boy, who felt a flower of warmth blossom on his chest. “Just be sure that all your homework is completed by lunch time or the moment you decide to go. Sushi is probably napping now, but when she wakes up, I will warn you.”

 “But first,” Hizashi clapped, capturing the attention as he walked with a dance on his step to the bakeries, taking two plate on his way. “breakfast! For you both. And that means something substantial and not just a cup of coffee.”

 Shinsou startled from the table he decided to place himself, shaking his head. “Yamada-san, it’s okay, you don’t need to-”

 “Nonsense, nonsense! I want to. Eating breakfast alone is just sooo boring, you know?” Hizashi spun on the place, almost throwing the muffins and breads around as Ochaco used his distraction to attack his shoelaces. “Uravity, stop, I need those.”

“Her name isn’t Uravity.” Shouta appeared again, bringing drinks and yawning, his focus changed to the boy’s. “Better give up. I’ve been fighting against him for years now.”

 “Also, her name is Ochaco Uravity Fluffy Second and you just refuse to call her that because you’re just jealous of how much genius I am.”

 “I refuse to call her that because I care for her sanity.”

 “Lies, lies.”

 Hitoshi snorted, hiding his smirk behind his hand. “I prefer his name better, sensei.”

 Aizawa watched them high five between the cheers of the blonde with an unimpressed expression. “Cheeky brat.”

 “You’re just grumpy because he has a good taste. Friendship ended with Shouta, now Shinsou is my new best friend.”

"I am truly devasted." Aizawa deadpanned, taking a long sip of his beverage, hiding his smirk as Shinsou snorted, Yamada's dramatic wailing in the background.

 And, as the playful bickering engulfed them between the warm food and purrs, Hitoshi decided that maybe losing his weekly training wasn’t so bad if that was what waited for him.  

[loveactionsspeaklouder]

one year - kylian mbappé and julian draxler fanfic

17|Lost

"Oh. My. God," Freddie and Ruby both said in unison, I blushed under their gaze. I had just filled them in on my antics with Kylian last night, they were both proud and shocked. I don't know how it happened, but I wasn't regretting it. In the moment, it felt right. "How was it?"

"Un-fucking-real," I laughed. "He's definitely had some practice in his short time, I'm still tired now."

They both widened their eyes in my direction and joined me in laughing. I was feeling good this morning considering the amount of alcohol I had consumed last night, I wasn't looking forward to the potential hangover.

"Have you spoken to Julian?" Ruby questioned. My heart ached when I heard his name; I thought I liked Julian, but after last night, I was completely confused. I didn't know what I felt.

"Not since before we went out," I sighed. "I don't know what I'm going to tell him, or even if I will. I think I should, I just know it will cause an argument which is making me not want to. We aren't together so he shouldn't have a problem and he's never told me he likes me. Eugh, why is my life so stressful?!"

Freddie pulled me into a hug, Ruby joined us, I don't know what I would do if I didn't have them in my life. "You know we wouldn't have you any other way."

I nudged them, they hugged me tighter. "You're only saying that because you'd miss my awkward stories but, I love you both."

....

Flashback

My heart was beating faster than normal, my breath strained and my hair stuck to my neck. I looked to my right and saw a widely grinning Kylian. His forehead was sweaty, he was also having trouble with breathing as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer.

"So, that was..." he started, but I cut him off.

"Rubbish," I laughed, he pouted. "Thought you said you'd had a lot of practice?"

He rolled back on top of me and we went for round two and three and four. He smirked at me. "Satisfied?"

My lips quickly found his as I gave him a quick peck, my mouth moving to his earlobe as my teeth gently bit the skin, a little moan escaping Kylian's lips. "Yes. You've had your fun, now go to sleep."

I moved my head to the crook of his neck, he wrapped his arm firmly around my waist, softly tracing his fingers across my skin.

....

Two Months Later

We had been wandering the streets for thirty minutes, we were supposed to be outside my apartment but instead I was witnessing every street in Paris. "I know you said you wanted to explore, but I hope this wasn't what you meant."

"Hey, you're the one that tried to take a shortcut!" I laughed at Julian. I still hadn't told him about me and Kylian, every time I tried to, I got scared. I had spent equal time with the pair of them over the past couple of months, only worsening my confusion for my feelings. I still had no idea what I felt.

"Don't blame this on me little one!" he smirked as he gently tapped the end of my nose with his index finger. "You gave out some questionable directions as well, I blame you."

We decided to take a break at a nearby park; unfortunately, I didn't recognise it. Julian was enjoying watching the little kids play football, a few of them wearing PSG jerseys. "Go join them, it will make their day."

He nodded and ran over, the kid's smiles on their faces grew wider. I watched in adoration, it was a wonderful sight. His smile was so bright, he looked over at me and waved, I felt my cheeks heat up. He played football with them for over an hour, he signed their shirts and ran over to me. "That was fun, now let's go find our way home!"

....

I was tired. If it wasn't the long walk that had drained my energy, then it was definitely having to deal with Julian's poor jokes. He did try. "Whip your phone out and look up directions, I'm sure we've walked past this tree before."

"All trees look the same engel," he chuckled. My heart beat sped up when I heard him use another German word for me. "Let's just take a nice stroll. It's a lovely day and it's not like we must be anywhere else. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I think them kids knocked it out of me!" Julian laughed remembering the little kids nearly hitting me in the face with their football. I blamed their teacher.

Fifteen minutes had past. (We were lost) Another fifteen minutes had past (Okay, we were seriously lost) I was sure we had walked past that flipping tree again. I stopped walking and huffed, I crossed my arms and pouted my lips. Julian eventually noticed and turn around and laughed, he walked back over to me and cupped my cheeks with his hands. "I am tired and hungry. How long?"

"Bonjour tired and hungry, I'm Julian," he smirked. I glared at him. Another lame joke. He grabbed my hands and motioned me to start following him. He was walking backwards, pulling me along with him. "Close your eyes, I'll guide you."

I gave him a questioning look. This man had me lost and now he wanted to hide my vision? Right now, I was team Kylian. I obeyed and closed them. We continued walking until we suddenly stopped, I felt Julian's breath on my neck. "Open your eyes."

"Julian, this isn't my apartment!" I yelled. I looked at him, then looked back in front of me. We were now staring at the Camp des Loges; my apartment was nearly twenty minutes away.

By car.

And we didn't have a car.

A black vehicle stopped in front of us, the window rolled down and revealed Kylian's smirking face. "Want a lift?"

[tracingdreams]

Why Tasuki Hates Women: Fushigi Yuugi Special Story: Part 6 (Final) - Miaka

“The reason why I started hating women” 

(Ore ga Onna-girai ni Natta Riyuu)   PART SIX (Final)

~From Fushigi Yuugi Perfect World compendium, Vol 6, 2005

(Author Nishizaki Megumi, who also wrote the Gaiden novels. Original work and illustration, Watase Yuu)

Translation is mine, any errors are also mine.

Above image of Tasuki and his sisters - Eimin (centre), Rin’an (top right), Manka (bottom left), Aidou (bottom right) and Fuyou (top left).

Scene:

The Seishi are en route to Hokkan (yeah, before all the nasty kicks off) and they’re taking a break. Tasuki is recovering from his seasickness, and Miaka is keeping him company in the way only Miaka can - by eating lots and asking him probing questions. Miaka tries to figure out Tasuki’s perfect woman and Tasuki explains his childhood traumas - all five of them ;)

This is a longish story so I am splitting it into parts where there are natural divides.

At the end of part 5, Tasuki’s sister Aidou had just noticed something...

“Shun’u. By the way, what’s that?” Aidou asked.

“Huh?”

“There. That thing on your right arm that looks like a character.”

Everyone turned to stare at the place on Shun’u’s arm.

“……For real.”

“It says ‘wing’.”

“Huuuh?”

“Hey, is that the thing that you mentioned that time way back, Ma?”

“No way…”

“It can’t be…Shun’u is…”

Everyone was speaking at once.

“Are you…the Suzaku Stellar Warrior, Tasuki?!”

Shun’u himself stared at the character on his arm with wide eyes of disbelief.

When the country was on the brink of destruction, a priestess would come from another world, and, along with seven stellar warriors, would save the nation. Was he really one of these individuals?

In the blink of an eye he realised that he would be released from his way of life up until then.

“Right, because I’m Suzaku’s…”

“The Seven Stellar Warriors can die in battle, though, right?”

“Even if he isn’t killed, up till the time Suzaku is summoned, he could be taken away.”

“No way. This is a problem…”

“It’s a real bother, honestly. How can someone become a stellar warrior just because they can run a bit fast?”

“Are you sure you didn’t just write it on your arm yourself for a joke?”

One by one everyone examined Shun’u’s arm.

His mother and his sisters were making a hysterical fuss about it all, but eventually, they came to a collective decision.

“Until such time as he’s called away to be a Stellar Warrior, we should make Shun’u work even harder!”

“Wh…Why?”

Crestfallen, Tasuki poked at his arm.

****************

“...It was at that moment that I decided to run away from home.”

“So that’s what happened.” Miaka said to Tasuki, who, by this time, had begun to get fed up.

“But Tasuki, your older sisters are healthy and pretty cool, really. And your mother’s a really good cook.”

“My older four sisters are all married now and have left home. They just come back when they get hungry for sukiyaki.”

“In that case, I like the hunger bug!” (NB This seems to be a play on words with suki and sukiyaki. It fails in English – it’s also joking on Japanese vocabulary knowledge).

Miaka sat up proud, answering like a proper examination entry student.

“That reminds me, Tasuki, do you not have a father?”

“I do. Now you mention it, he hasn’t come up in any of my stories so far, has he? He’s the kind who fades into the background so much that I never know what he’s doing.”

Tasuki continued.

“Apparently, though, in the past, my father had an active physique and a muscular body. But as the number of daughters increased, he had the life force sucked out of him by his womenfolk. I absolutely didn’t want to turn out like him. Although, the day that I left home, my father was the only one who covertly followed me in order to see me off.”

“Heeh.”

“I had the feeling that Dad was saying to me, you’re the only boy, go and live your life however you want to.”

“I see. So then you joined the mountain bandits..?”

“Mm.”

Miaka gave a small laugh.

“Tasuki, the first time we met, you lied to me and didn’t tell me who you really were.”

“Yeah. Because Reikaku-zan was more important to me than being a Stellar Warrior.”

“Because you hated women, you thought, like hell I’m gonna obey some priestess, right?”

“Something like that.”

“And yet, you’re here anyway. Well done.”

Tasuki stretched his body out.

“I wonder why I felt that way. I think it’s a bit mysterious even now.”

“I think that in the meantime, Tasuki, you’ve become able to find a woman you like now. Honestly, I don’t think it matters what your perfect type might be. If you fall in love with her, you’ll suddenly love everything about her anyway.”

“……Is that how it works?”

Grinning, Miaka nodded her head, and Tasuki stared at her intently.

“On the other hand, you really can eat a lot, can’t you, for a woman? Leave some for me!”

Tasuki reached out a hand to take one of the butaman, but Miaka pulled it out of his reach.

“Nope. That one’s the last one, after all.”

“What are you talking about? It’s fine, let me eat it!”

“No way, no way!”

They both climbed up onto the sideboard and the last butaman rolled around and around as they fought over it.

“But Tasuki, I thought that you were seasick!”

“Huh?” Tasuki stood still for a moment, then said, “now you mention it, I feel better.”

“That’s good. In that case, I’m gonna take lunch to Tamahome.”

With a big smile on her face, Miaka waved her hands in a wave, then turned, hurrying away in the direction of the ship’s main chamber.

 Hating women, huh…

Tasuki allowed a rueful smile.

With Mum and five sisters, I really had enough of women.  

And my dream is to become a man amongst men, like Hakurou had been. So why exactly am I here like this? Even though I had absolutely no interest in the Suzaku legend.

Tasuki’s gaze fell in the direction that Miaka had gone.

Maybe because you’re a kind of woman that, until now, I’ve not had around me?

That was it.

Idiotically direct.

Someone who doesn’t make a fuss about herself.

Clumsy, but always hard working.

Although carrying the burden of being Suzaku’s priestess, always trying her best.

Maybe it’s because that priestess is you.

It’s not as though I’ve stopped hating women.

But the priestess…no, Miaka…I’ll protect you and you alone.

No matter what happens, I’ll gamble this life and protect you, so don’t worry about a thing.

 On board the boat heading for Hokkan, and through all the hardships they would face ahead, Tasuki felt a different wind beginning to blow.

 The End 😊

[friendlylocalwhumper]

content warning: a central point of this drabble is that there is a lot of blood, to the point that i think it’s gore. also please check the tags for squicks!

Thin, jagged gasps slip out of Lux - quiet, quiet. He needs to listen. Listen to the footsteps, the man walking around. Taking a break from using the knife, or giving Lux time to gather himself for the next round.

The footsteps sound like they’re headed toward the windows. There’s a soft scraping and sliding: the fabric-lined cover of a book getting pulled across the surface of a shelf. The man makes a short amused sound.

“Weird old books. You like to read?”

Twisting his raw wrists in the rope binding them above his head, Lux licks his lips, clears his throat. They’re Emory’s books, but Lux won’t dare mention his boyfriend, put his life at risk. “I, I try.”

“You try? What, can’t read?”

“No, I just…” The blindfold secured over his eyes makes him terribly anxious, but the cloth gag out of its place and resting loosely across his throat is easily worse. Any touch there, any pressure at all, and it’s like his lungs forget how to do their job. It doesn’t help that there’s a knife in his stomach. “Nnh. I, ‘s hard, for me, to s-stay focused. I don’t, I, do-on’t get through books ve-ery fast.”

“Hmm.” The book slides back into its place on the shelf and the footsteps start up again. Lux can’t tell which direction they’re headed in, just that they’re still behind the sofa. He hears a small metal-on-wood sound, a clinking of glass. “Cute picture. You and him really look happy.”

It’s the picture frame from the little table under the windows, the picture of Lux and Emory on the beach. Lux usually feels proud when he sees it, a rare time that he let himself show his scars outside, and even rarer for someone capturing it with a camera - but now he feels nauseous at the thought of it, of this man seeing him and Emory holding hands and commenting on it like Lux isn’t lying in a pool of his own blood across the room.

The picture frame is set down. Footsteps. Lux can’t see, can’t be sure of his hearing. A stray whimper escapes him here and there as he waits for something to happen.

Footsteps on the kitchen floor. The fridge opens with a funny suctioning sound and a whirring hum of electricity. Something clinks. Is he taking something out to drink? Yes, a soda is opened with a crisp snap.

“Such a good host,” Jokes the man, and then he sets down the can, walks over. Lux shudders against the floor and clenches his jaw. “Okay. Tip your head back, now. Better angle.”

A tremulous breath. Lux obeys, or thinks he does, letting his head fall back an inch. There’s movement, the man’s shoes meeting the floor, the sound of someone crouching nearby, Lux has heard that enough times - fingers are in his curls in an instant and his hair is grabbed onto, his head shoved back until his neck is bared.

A moment passes, a terribly tense moment. Is the man angry, watching for rebellion, for a surrender? Is he looking for something? Does he just like to move suddenly and grab so that Lux takes these breaths that squeak with pure terror?

The hand leaves his hair, but the man doesn’t move away. Head still tipped back between his arms, his elbows are straight above him in the air, arms at a loose angle with his wrists tied to the leg of the sofa.

He wasn’t tied the whole time. He was just pinned, and then the weight lifted off of him, and he struggled. He pushed and scrabbled and stumbled to his feet to run. His bloody hands slipped against the walls, his shaking legs wobbled under him - and he was tackled, pinned, beaten. As if the guy didn’t love the rush of letting him think he could escape.

“Time for more of the knife, now. You know what that means, right? Say yes, last thing you’ll get to say for a while.”

“Y-yes.” Fingers brush against his throat, and Lux yelps. His attacker laughs as he scoops up the gag and pulls it back up to slide between Lux’s teeth. He even grabs Lux’s hair to pull his head up and pat his cheek before shifting to reach for the knife embedded in the warlock.

A long, winding keen slips out of Lux along with the knife’s blade. A hand presses over the wound, pushing down on it, around it - not to staunch the bloodflow, but to dip into the blood that spills out. The warlock’s jaw is grabbed, and the smell of the fresh blood so close, his blood, makes him eke out a muffled whine and try to turn his head away.

“Hey, hey. Calm down. Just making it a little more colorful. It’s a real shame that that blindfold’s on, you know? This place is covered in blood, I’d love for you to see it. You’d probably faint. But I guess it’s better this way, huh? Long as the blindfold’s on, you might get to live!” At Lux’s frightened sound, the man hums “mmhmm” in patronizing agreement. “If you see my face, I can’t let you go, can I? That blindfold comes off and you know you’re about to take this knife right in the head. So it’s good that I put that thing on you in the first place.”

Lux nods, petrified and eager to show his understanding, his gratitude. He doesn’t want to die, it’s worth the terror of not seeing what’s coming to get to live.

“Yeah. Okay, more knife.” The tip of the blade taps against Lux’s chin as if to tease him for letting things veer off-topic, and then it’s in Lux again, buried right into him with a quick, harsh stab down into his belly. The muffled scream that comes is answered with the blade sliding back out, and back in, a few inches to the side.

“Bit loud there, Lux. Got you gagged for a reason.”

The warlock whimpers behind the gag, nodding again in a wordless apology. His body shifts restlessly as the knife is pulled out again and dragged across his skin in search of a good place to be pushed back in.

Time drags on like taffy being pulled, stretched, wound across metal arms to droop and fold. Lux’s head remains tipped back as he takes slow shuddering breaths through the pain. He passes out, he thinks - get dizzy and nauseous, and then jerks awake, the knife lodged in a different part of his body, the man on the other side of his limp body. The warlock chews idly on the gag, tongue heavy and unwieldy. He whines.

“What? Yeah, it hurts, obviously. Why you making sounds again?” Fingers tap against Lux’s cheek, then slip under the gag to pull it out. Lux licks his lips and closes his mouth. “What’cha whining about?”

“Mmh, th-, th-...” The warlock’s voice cracks. He wouldn’t need water so bad, he thinks, if he knew he could get some himself whenever he wants to. Knowing he can’t, though, makes the need so much sharper. “Thi-irsty.”

“Oh! Hey, perfect solution.”

The guy gets up and walks away. The knife is on the floor, Lux thinks, definitely not in him right now. Dried blood cracks across his bare stomach as he lets out a slow breath.

The man is back, propping up Lux’s head, tipping a can of soda against Lux’s lips. He drinks eagerly, brows furrowed at the thought of this man having drank from the same can. He doesn’t care about germs, really, it’s just upsetting that this is all so casual, as if they’re close friends and he knows Lux won’t be bothered by it.

“Gotta be flat by now. Been sitting out for a few hours. No use cracking open a fresh one if this one’s sitting around, though, right?” He lets Lux finish off the can. After a second, there’s a rush of air across Lux’s chest and a loud clattering in the kitchen. Lux flinches. The guy threw the can, and missed the trash bin by the sound of it.

There’s a sigh above him. “Guess I’ve had enough time with you.” Fingertips touch Lux’s arm, then his cheek, sliding up to the blindfold. “Thinking about taking this off.”

A chill sinks into Lux’s heart. If the blindfold comes off, he’ll be killed, he remembers. The gag is still out from being given something to drink, he can beg, beg for his life. “Nnh, no, don’t, d-don’t wanna die, please I, I won’t-” The blindfold slips up, pushed so Lux could see if he wanted to. The warlock keens in panic and squeezes his eyes shut. “D-, didn’t see you, I, ple-ease please put it back, don’t ki-ill me, ple-e-ease!”

The man laughs. “Well, you are doing your best, aren’t you? You really don’t want to die. You’re sure you didn’t see me? Not one little peek?”

“N-no I didn’t, m-my eyes were closed the, the, the whole time, please l-let me live, I’ll never - I-I…” Lux isn’t sure what the man wants. He hasn’t said anything about Lux being good. He hasn’t called him a warlock, hasn’t yelled at him for using magic. Maybe he’s just mocking Lux, watching him fumble with his begging before killing him. A whine escapes the bloody, terrified warlock. “I-I just want… Emory.”

“Emory?” A moment passes. “Oh! Your boyfriend? You want him?”

“Mmh, mmhmm. Want… wan’im to sa-ave me, h-help… help me clean up, and f-feel safe, and s-say, say I was brave.” Pitchy warbles take hold of his voice here and there to make it nearly crack into silence. “I, I, d-din’t I… take it well? Di’n’I k-, keep quiet?”

“It’s all those scars, I bet, the ones under all this blood. You’re used to it. And besides, you weren’t all that brave, you made some sounds when you were trying to escape.”

Shame burns across Lux’s cheeks. “I know. I, I… ple-ease, I just, want him to find me, he-elp me.” If begging for his own sake does no good, then he can at least beg for Emory. It would be so much worse for Emory to come home to a corpse than to Lux hurt, bleeding and crying as he so often is.

“...Find you,” Mutters the man, patting Lux’s chest. “Yeah, find you! Oh that’s fun.” The blindfold is pulled back down, and Lux can breathe again. The gag is pushed back between his teeth - frightening, since he can’t beg anymore, can’t argue for his own life - and the knife comes back to his skin. Lux shivers. He thought it would be over, one way or another.

“Need more blood. We’re gonna put on a real show for when your man gets back!”

~

As soon as he opens the door, Emory freezes. Something is wrong.

The lights are off. Yes, it’s daytime, but Lux likes to keep the lights on anyway, so shadows and dark corners don’t trick his mind into seeing movement when no one should be around.

The door was unlocked. Lux keeps it locked, always, so no one can come in without making a lot of noise, or having the key. Especially when he’s home alone, that’s important to him.

Emory steps inside, setting down his bags silently. The framed photos on the table in the entrance are at an odd angle. There’s something smudged on the glass of one of them, but Emory can’t make out what it is in the dark.

He has an ominous feeling that he shouldn’t make a sound, shouldn’t turn on the lights. If someone was here, there’s no knowing if they left.

Carefully, he steps further into the house. There’s another dark smudge, on the wall. As he walks along, he sees bigger smudges, all trailing to a handprint.

He’s near the end of the little entrance hallway now, and there’s more than enough light from the windows to see the color of the smudges. Deep ruddy brown. Dried blood.

Emory turns, stiff with fear, to see a knife on the floor.

There are sounds, he can hear them now, coming from the living room. Whimpers.

He wants to help Lux, he does. He knows those are Lux’s sounds. He knows this is Lux’s blood. It all feels like a nightmare. He just… can’t know what state Lux is in until he sees it. He could just be stabbed through the hand. He could be missing a limb. Emory can’t know. Maybe Lux is dying, maybe he’ll die in Emory’s arms. A small, irrational part of his mind wonders if he can just sit down on the floor, and breathe, and wait to wake up. This can’t be real.

Emory comes out from behind the corner to see it. Lux, lying on the floor, covered in blood. It’s pooled under him, and smeared around him, on the walls, on the rug, on the sofa. Rope is wound around Lux’s wrists to keep him where he is. He’s shirtless, and there are so many new cuts across his front that Emory wonders how long it must have taken to make all of them. His arms are cut into, too, and his sides. It’s so thorough that it had to be slow and deliberate, not a quick brutal attack with rapid-fire stabs and a bolting criminal. This was torture.

Little fluttery breaths make Lux’s ribs rise and fall, blood weeping from the cuts in the skin there. As Emory gets closer, silent with horror, he sees the pink skin of Lux’s scarred wrists, worn raw from struggling. He’s still twisting his arms weakly to pull at rope that won’t give. He’s even letting out little frustrated whines as it gets him nowhere. Sweat beads in the divot between his collarbones, and on his brow.

There’s a strip of cloth tied around his head to serve as a gag, and another one over his eyes. It’s not right, hurting someone in their own home, someone as vulnerable as Lux, and taking away their ability to see and speak. It’s amazing that Lux isn’t sobbing into that gag, that the blindfold isn’t soaked with tears.

Emory crouches next to his boyfriend, hands hovering. Lux quietens his breaths and tips his head to listen. Emory can’t speak, his throat’s clogged with grief.

With his most gentle, most careful touch, Emory tries to move the blindfold.

Lux’s whole body jerks with his flinch, a desperate cry cracking out of him as he tries to hide unders his arms. Wordless, panicked sounds are muffled by the gag. There’s a tremor in Emory hands, now, that echoes Lux’s full-body shaking.

“Hey, Curls, it’s just me. Just me, just Em, honey. I’ve got you.” His voice is hushed. He’s sure that there’s no one else in the house, but this still feels like a delicate, dangerous moment. Lux is so scared, must have been for… hours, probably? Days, maybe.

A smell, one that was vague at first but is stronger now, overwhelms Emory. He blinks, looks around, and finally down at Lux, at his jeans. There’s a slowly growing dark spot there. Emory scared him so bad that Lux wet himself.

The horror settles deeper in Emory at making this more difficult for Lux. How humiliating, how degrading it must be to be tied up on the floor of his own home and cut into, blindfolded and gagged. Emory’s not making it any better.

“I’m sorry, honey.” His voice cracks with guilt. Being upset over seeing all the blood isn’t an excuse for doing this wrong, for scaring Lux after whatever he just went through. There’s so much blood, there are so many cuts, the pain must be unbearable. Lux whines behind the gag. “I’m gonna take off the blindfold, okay? It’s just me, it’s safe-” He tries again, fingers dipping under the cloth, but Lux jerks his head to the other side with a pitchy sound. The warlock is breathing quick and shallow like he’s going to get stabbed for turning away.

“You don’t want it off? ...Okay, that’s okay. What about this?” He taps against the cloth stretched across Lux’s cheek. He gets a hesitant nod in response. “Okay, here goes. Just this one, I promise.” The gag is pulled so it can stretch enough to get out from between Lux’s teeth and be untied. Lux takes deep breaths, rolls his jaw with a wince.

“Em?” Asks Lux, small and unsure. “‘s you?” He shifts uncomfortably, shame settling across his features. Emory cups his cheek and leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Yeah, honey. I’m sorry I scared you. I just… I got freaked out. I wasn’t thinking. There’s… a lot of blood.”

A shudder tears through Lux. “H-he said… I know. Ca-an you - please, my arms?” His wrists tug on the rope half-heartedly.

“Yeah, ‘course, I got you.” The rope is wound tightly around itself, stuck in tense knots. Emory pulls at it, digs in with his nails, but can’t get any give at all. The room seems to get physically colder as he remembers the knife lying on the floor nearby. “...Honey, I’ve gotta cut the rope.”

“C-cut the…?” Under all the blood stains, Lux pales. “With the…?”

It’s covered in blood, the blade and the handle both stained. Emory could go get a different knife, or scissors or something… but he doesn’t know if he can stand Lux fearing he’s been left for good when Emory stands and walks into another room. He doesn’t have to patience to do that whole thing. Lux deserves to be free, now.

He reaches for the knife. Freezes, kneeling at Lux’s side, looking down on the blood-stained, cut-up body of his boyfriend, the knife that did it weighty in his hand. If he was Lux, he’s doubt for a second, wonder if he actually did the cutting. But he’s not Lux.

The knife doesn’t do the job as fast as he’d hoped. Emory’s incredibly careful not to slip and nick Lux’s wrist, sawing through one of the rope’s knots. It takes a couple minutes of cutting, Lux’s breaths coming in short gasps, before the rope falls loose and can be pulled apart. As it slides along those raw wrists, Lux moans in pain.

“I’ve got you,” Emory murmurs again as he gingerly lowers Lux’s arms. “There. Better, honey?”

Lux gives a noncommittal groan.

“Do you think I can take off the blindfold now? Now you know it’s safe?”

“Nnh, d-don’t, I - he, h-he said if, if I see him, he’ll kill me, I - d-don’t wanna die.”

The frightened confession steals Emory’s breath. So Lux was attacked, was terrorized. No wonder he’s so scared, even now. “Right. But he’s not here, now. Just me. So it’s safe. He’s gone, you won’t see him.”

Emory slowly helps Lux to sit up, and is beyond relieved to find that there are no cuts across his back. He rubs circles there, eager to comfort in whatever small way he can.

“Mmmnh, but - he… I th-thought he was gone… thought he was, a wh-, while ago, and when - when I tried, to, to get untied, he…” With a whimper, Lux presses a hand to his stomach, over some of the stab wounds. “...Wh-, what if, he’s n-not gone? I, I can’t… I tried, to - to do wha-, whatever I had to, s-so you, you wouldn’t come home, to see… see, me, see me dead.”

Grief clogs up Emory’s throat once again. Lux tips his head to the side, breaths quieting again, listening for a response. He’s scared.

“Sorry, Curls. It’s okay. God, I’m sorry that happened to you. The blindfold can stay on if you want. Let’s just… get you cleaned up, and on the bed, okay? And I’ll… I clean up all the… everything, while you rest. So when you do feel okay to take it off, you don’t see… things.”

~

Pink bathwater drains languidly from the bath, bloody footprints wiped from the tile floor.

The rug, out in the living room, has been rolled up and shoved under the couch - Emory didn’t think it would be smart to toss a blood-drenched rug out on the curb.

The walls and floor are wiped down, but the stains won’t leave. Emory’s checked his bank account on his phone about ten times to make sure he has enough to spend on covering up the flooring and painting over the walls himself.

Lux lies in bed, passed out, pale. His whole chest is wrapped up in pristine white gauze, winding up from his waist, over his ribs, up over his shoulders and down his arms. He was able to relax once all the cuts were covered up, held secure. Blood seeps through the bandages in little spots.

He shook and apologized when Emory helped him get undressed and step into the bathtub. As if the blood was fine, the deep cuts and torn skin, but the fact that Lux wet himself would be enough to frustrate Emory. He just guided Lux to kneel in the water so it wouldn’t rise above his hips, and carefully wash between the cuts. It would be awful to get them infected - he doesn’t even want to imagine the fever that would come, the pain Lux would be in.

At least he’s asleep now. He went boneless, at one point, between getting his body bandaged and making it to the bed. Emory knew the pain was bad, but feeling Lux faint in his arms, it made his heart clench with guilt as if he piled up all the agony on Lux on purpose to knock him out.

So by sundown, the house is as clean as it’ll get. Lux is tended to, safe, set to heal.

Emory sits on the now-bare floor in the living room. The knife lies in his hands, still stained with Lux’s blood.

All he did was spend one weekend away. A convention: books, like-minded thinkers, seminars, vendors, lunches. Three days away from home. Lux had sworn he’d be fine. They texted, right when Emory got in the car to leave; Lux didn’t answer any of the following texts, not for Emory’s whole trip. He thought maybe Lux forgot to check his phone, or was trying to prove he would be fine alone.

Someone took advantage of that, of Emory being gone. Someone knew he’d be gone. Knew that they’d have three days to spend on tearing Lux open and spilling his blood all over their home.

He can’t help but wonder, as his grip tightens on the handle of the knife, whether this was torture for Lux, or a message for Emory.

[bloody-bee-tea]

Wangji Week 2020 Day 2

Music

Wangji Week finally gives me an excuse and a push to finish the Wangxian wips I still have laying around, which is awesome! This is over 6k long, so you can either read it here or on AO3 if you like that better.

Lan Wangji shouldn’t sit yet, he knows this. His brother has said as much, paired with a stern glance, that barely did anything to hide his worry.

But Lan Wangji is tired of laying down and resting. He misses his guqin.

He misses much more than that, but at least his guqin is something attainable.

Even the simple task of sitting up makes jolts of pain shoot up and down Lan Wangji’s back. Still. It’s been almost two years now. He wonders if the pain will ever lessen. He’s not sure he wants it to.

Summoning his guqin is easy, compared to getting into an upright position. Just a flick of his wrist, a stray thought and it’s there, weight resting comfortably and familiar on his knees. He has missed it dearly.

He splays his hands over the strings, absently tugging a note out of it as he ponders what song to play. There is only one real choice, Lan Wangji knows this, but his heart hurts even thinking about playing the familiar notes.

But it seems like it’s the only song he can remember right now, and his hands fall into the starting position without his conscious decision.

The first five notes are fine. Afterwards, it becomes hard to breathe, the weight on his chest more than he can handle; it’s hard to see too, because he can’t seem to stop crying.

Lan Wangji plays, still. It’s not like he needs to see his guqin to play the song most dear to his heart.

It’s only afterwards, the last note lingering in the air, that he notices his brother in the doorway.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen says, and Lan Wangji almost drowns in the sympathy he can hear in his brother’s voice.

A-Yuan is in his arms, but it seems like the boy has fallen asleep, a lingering tear still clinging to the corner of his eyes and Lan Xichen follows Lan Wangji’s gaze.

“He started crying when he heard the song, but then he fell asleep,” Lan Xichen explains and it just hurts Lan Wangji more.

He can hardly handle his own grief. He doesn’t know how to handle a small child’s on top of that but he knows he has to. A-Yuan deserves as much.

Lan Wangji vanishes his guqin and then holds his hands out towards his brother.

"Give him," he says, voice rusty from disuse and crying, but steady nonetheless.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen says again, like he can read the mounting despair on his brother’s face when Lan Xichen doesn't immediately obey.

"Give him," Lan Wangji demands again but still Lan Xichen doesn't move.

"Your back," Lan Xichen tries but Lan Wangji stubbornly holds out his hands.

This is probably hurting him more than actually holding the small boy.

"Brother, please," he whispers, begs almost, and this time Lan Xichen obeys with a small sigh.

He walks over and carefully dislodges A-Yuan from his shoulder before he transfers the sleeping boy into Lan Wangji's waiting arms.

Lan Wangji immediately curls his arms around A-Yuan, holds him closer, and he leans down to press a lingering kiss to the boys head.

Lan Xichen kindly doesn't comment on the fact that Lan Wangji stays like that for a long time, hiding his face away. He also doesn't mention the new sobs.

“I miss him,” Lan Wangji eventually whispers into A-Yuan's hair when the tears have finally stopped. He is still hiding his face, the memory of their song still in the air, and he doesn’t know how to handle this grief that is threatening to drown him.

It’s been two years. There are many more before him. It’s a horrifying thought.

~*~*~

Lan Wangji lingers over the last few notes of Inquiry, unanswered, like always, when Lan Sizhui sits down next to him.

The boy has grown, almost ten now, and he takes to the teachings of the Lan clan like a duck to water. Lan Wangji couldn’t be more proud of him.

Lan Wangji tilts his head in Lan Sizhui’s direction to let him know he can start talking. It's been not as much of a challenge to teach him to stay quiet during meals and when Lan Wangji plays as he had expected it to be.

Lan Wangji is reminded of the first time he told A-Yuan to stay quiet during meals, a fond memory, but also a painful one, as are all memories with Wei Wuxian. But A-Yuan had listened to him even back then, and it had made things easier for them once Lan Wangji took the boy in, even though he doesn’t remember his previous life.

He is brought out of his thoughts by an insistent tugging on his sleeve and he looks down at the boy by his side.

"Why don't you play that one song anymore?" Lan Sizhui wants to know and immediately Lan Wangji's heart grows heavy once more.

He knows exactly what song Lan Sizhui is referring to.

"You played it a lot and it made me sleep better. But you're not playing it anymore," Lan Sizhui whines and uses his most devastating pout on Lan Wangji.

He's certain Lan Sizhui learned that one from Wei Wuxian, even though the boy is adamant he can’t remember a thing from his time before he came to the Cloud Recesses. Lan Wangji is not surprised that Wei Wuxian left a lingering impression that even goes beyond conscious memory.

And it’s true. Lan Wangji had played the song a lot in the years after Wei Wuxian died. It hadn’t been for him, the song hurt him too much for that, but for A-Yuan. The boy suffered from nightmares for years after his family died and Lan Wangji had tried all he could to make it easier for him.

Playing that song was a sure way to get A-Yuan to fall asleep.

But now that he is somewhat grown-up, the nightmares have lessened and Lan Wangji has stopped playing it. There is no longer a reason to endure the pain it causes him after all.

Lan Wangji stays quiet for a long moment, deciding on how best to explain this without saying "I loved your dad and now that he's dead, the song hurts me". It’s too much to explain. Lan Wangji isn’t even sure if he fears it’s too much for Lan Sizhui or himself.

At his side Lan Sizhui stays patiently silent. He knows Lan Wangji's thinking face by now. He knows not to demand too impatiently.

"You know how some things make your head hurt sometimes?" Lan Wangji eventually carefully asks, thinking back to just yesterday when the cook talked about radishes and Lan Sizhui got a headache so bad he started crying.

Lan Wangji still doesn't know if it's better that the fever took everything; that Lan Sizhui doesn't remember anything about his time with his family and Wei Wuxian or if that just makes it harder.

Lan Sizhui nods, seriously, listening attentively and clearly coming to his own conclusions before Lan Wangji can figure out how to go on.

"The song makes your head hurt?" he asks and reaches up to brush his fingers over Lan Wangji's forehead, careful not to touch the ribbon.

It makes my heart hurt, Lan Wangji doesn't say because he's not quite sure how to explain that to Lan Sizhui without opening his own wounds again. They have barely scabbed over as it is.

So he prays for forgiveness to the ancestors and lies.

"Yes."

He wonders how many more rules he can break.

At his side Lan Sizhui nods gravely and even though he’s still too young for such a serious look on his face, Lan Wangji can’t help but to smile at his next words.

“Then I will fall asleep without the song,” Lan Sizhui seriously tells him, eyes wide and earnest and Lan Wangji pulls him closer to his side.

“How about we learn a different song to play for you?” he asks him.

Lan Wangji should reprimand him for the gleeful shriek Lan Sizhui lets out, but it lifts a weight off his chest, so he just vows to remind him of the rule next time.

It’s never good to curb curious interest with too many rules, after all.

~*~*~

Lan Wangji plays the guqin like he hasn’t in a long time. His fingers fly over the strings, pulling melody after melody out of them easily, but he always comes back to one song. Their song.

It doesn’t hurt him to play it anymore, now that Wei Wuxian is back. And it has to be him in the bed next to Lan Wangji. He certainly doesn’t look like Wei Wuxian, and even though it makes no sense to Lan Wangji, because how could that even be, but still. There is no other soul out there who could play the song.

Lan Wangji lingers over the last notes, reverent instead of pained like he used to for so long, and his gaze is yet again drawn to the still passed out figure of Wei Wuxian. He isn’t sure for how long he stared at him, when suddenly there’s a shuffling noise from the door.

HIs head snaps around to find Lan Sizhui leaning against the door frame. That in itself is worrying, because Lan Sizhui is much too well behaved normally to slouch like that and Lan Wangji is already halfway up before Lan Sizhui can even open his mouth.

“Father,” he says, voice unsteady and breathless and now Lan Wangji knows something is definitely wrong.

Lan Sizhui hasn’t called him father in a long time. Lan Wangji is not too proud to admit that he misses it, but he would prefer to hear it with a steady and strong voice.

“Sizhui,” he almost rushes out, as he goes to meet his son and put a steadying hand on his arm.

“That song,” Lan Sizhui whispers and Lan Wangji’s gaze falls back on the still sleeping Wei Wuxian. “I know it, don’t I?” Lan Sizhui asks, hand rising to his head.

Lan Wangji hasn’t played this song since A-Yuan had turned nine and could fall asleep without getting violent nightmares. Still, he agrees, because yes. A-Yuan knows this song.

“You used to play it,” Lan Sizhui whispers, but his eyes are glued to the man in the bed. “But he—he played it too.”

Lan Wangji turns surprised eyes on his son. Surely he can’t remember his time with Wei Wuxian on the Burial Mounds.

“When the Ghost General attacked, he played the same song. And before, too, at Mo Manor. I wasn’t sure then, and Jingyi said he didn’t know it, but it was that song, I’m sure of it.”

Lan Wangji wishes he could tell Lan Sizhui everything; how that man in the bed is much more his father than Lan Wangji ever could be, despite the length of time A-Yuan spend with either of them.

But he can’t.

He still isn’t sure if it really even is Wei Wuxian, no matter what his heart tells him, and he doesn’t want to cause Lan Sizhui that kind of pain. It is enough that one of them will be shattered if the man turns out not to be Wei Wuxian.

Not even to mention if Wei Wuxian doesn’t remember anything from before his death. No, this is something Lan Wangji has to shoulder alone, for now.

“I know him,” Lan Sizhui whispers again and makes an involuntary step forward, but Lan Wangji keeps his hand firm on his arm and pulls him back.

“You know the song,” he tells him, “not the man.”

Lan Sizhui turns eyes on him that have always been able to see through his facade too well. It must be something he picked up from his uncle.

“He’s an old—friend,” Lan Wangji admits, hoping that for once Lan Sizhui will not notice the slightly too long pause in his sentence. “I taught him how to play that song.”

“You never taught me,” Lan Sizhui says, and Lan Wangji silences him with a look.

It’s not Lan Sizhui’s place to question him.

“I’m sorry, father,” Lan Sizhui says with a bow and Lan Wangji sighs.

“Don’t apologize,” he gives back, because his high-strung mood is not his son’s fault. “You’ll learn.”

Even if Lan Wangji doesn’t actively teach it to him, Lan Sizhui will pick up on it sooner or later anyway. Lan Wangji is sure he’ll play it often in the future, maybe even accompanied by a dizi.

He can hope.

~*~*~

When everything is done, and Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian survived despite everyone trying to kill them, they part ways. It almost breaks Lan Wangji’s heart to see Wei Wuxian walk away from him, but he reminds himself that it’s better than it was when Wei Wuxian was dead.

He manages for almost a year, burying himself in the work of being Chief Cultivator, but when Lan Xichen steps out of seclusion, Lan Wangji is more than happy to hand that title over without fuss.

It still takes them some time to get everything in order, but Lan Wangji knows soon he’ll be free to go after Wei Wuxian and that hope, it shows in his playing.

The past year, their song was slow and longing, and every time Lan Wangji played it, he wanted to do nothing more than just get up and find Wei Wuxian.

But now, now he can, and his fingers fly again, turning the song into the reverent version it’s supposed to be.

When Lan Wangji finally goes after Wei Wuxian, Lan Xichen sends him off with a smile and a reminder to play the song often.

It’s not a hardship for Lan Wangji.

~*~*~

Lan Wangji finds Wei Wuxian in the jingshi, sitting in a window and staring outside. His fingers are restless, dancing over his outer robe and Lan Wangji allows himself a small smile at his foresight.

When he reaches Wei Wuxian he holds out Chenqing to him. Wei Wuxian keeps forgetting it lately, and then he always wonders where it went to, so Lan Wangji keeps an eye on the dizi no matter where Wei Wuxian leaves it.

One of them should know where it is, after all.

"You used to play for fun," Lan Wangji tells him as Wei Wuxian takes the flute from him.

You used to play our song whenever you sat down for a second, he doesn't say, because it fills him with worry.

When Wei Wuxian first came back to the Cloud Recesses they played their song often; together and separately, whenever one of them had the time. There wasn’t a day when their song didn’t fill the space of the jingshi.

But those days are gone, and Lan Wangji doesn’t know why, doesn’t know how to bring the carefree smile and easy nature of Wei Wuxian back. He has to figure out what caused them to disappear first.

Wei Wuxian spins the flute a few times, and Lan Wangji is as enraptured by his hands as he has always been, itches to reach out and measure their hands together, feel those clever light fingers dance over his own skin.

He clasps his hands behind his back. Going by the sharp look Wei Wuxian sends him, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

"There's nothing fun to play anymore," Wei Wuxian tells him eventually, without meeting his eyes and Wangji's heart grows heavy in his chest.

He never meant to trap Wei Wuxian like this, make him loose his enjoyment of the world, but it seems like Lan Wangji can do nothing right.

The distance between them continues to grow; Wei Wuxian moved to his own rooms, he doesn’t come looking for Lan Wangji during the day anymore and even when they do spend time together, it’s nothing like when they were traveling together.

Lan Wangji doesn’t know how to ask for an explanation, and it’s clear that Wei Wuxian won’t tell him on his own. Some days Lan Wangji thinks it has something to do with how he pulled away from Wei Wuxian, the always present urge to reach out for him, pull him close and never let him go easier to handle when Wei Wuxian is not in reaching distance after all, but for that to be true, there must be some feelings on Wei Wuxian’s side as well.

And there are not.

"I see," Lan Wangji belatedly says and turns around to walk away.

He's being haunted by Wei Wuxian's sad small smile and the absence of a flute filling the air for the rest of the day.

~*~*~

Lan Wangji is in the library, preparing a new lesson for the juniors, when Wei Wuxian finds him and seemingly decides to keep him company.

Lan Wangji doesn’t object, isn't sure he would ever be able to refuse Wei Wuxian anything, and instead he resigns himself to not getting anything done. He never does when Wei Wuxian is around, and especially not in the library.

But this time Wei Wuxian is quiet. Quiet in a way he never has been, before. In a way Lan Wangji has doubted Wei Wuxian even knew how to be. It’s a startling contrast to how Wei Wuxian behaved in the library when they were both still students.

The quiet now, it’s unsettling. Wei Wuxian hasn't been this quiet ever before, not even when Lan Wangji put the silencing spell on him. Or maybe especially not then, because the sounds Wei Wuxian made then were almost worse than his constant chattering.

But there’s no need to use the silencing spell on Wei Wuxian this time and Lan Wangji suspects it's his fault.

Wei Wuxian has been restrained around him, careful and unobtrusive, and it's the same now.

Lan Wangji hates it.

Hates the fact that he's the cause of this unnatural stillness, both in sound and in motion,  and it makes something in his chest curl up tight. It's threatening to choke him and he almost wishes it would.

Be never wants to hinder Wei Wuxian like this, never meant to restrain him like this, especially not for something that never annoyed Lan Wangji in the first place.

It's part of Wei Wuxian, the constant movement, the constant chattering, and Lan Wangji misses it so acutely it's like a physical pain.

He doesn't know how to bring it back, doesn’t know how to ask Wei Wuxian to just be himself with Lan Wangji around.

He fears Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to be himself around Lan Wangji anymore.

"You never told me," Wei Wuxian says apropos of nothing and turns to look at Lan Wangji.

It's the first time since he entered the library that he does. Lan Wangji knows because he's always acutely aware of Wei Wuxian’s eyes on him.

Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow at Wei Wuxian, prompting him to go on, and Wei Wuxian huffs at that.

"The name of the song," he says, like it should be obvious, and he brings Chenqing to his lips, plays the first few notes of their song, and Lan Wangji's heart plummets into his stomach. "Does it have one?" Wei Wuxian goes on, when he puts the flute down again.

Lan Wangji needs to swallow two, three times to get rid of the lump in his throat and before he feels that he can speak without his voice breaking.

"It used to," he finally admits and he hasn't anticipated the pain that admittance causes. "Now I'm not sure anymore."

Lan Wangji isn't sure of anything anymore. Especially not when it comes to Wei Wuxian.

"Oh," Wei Wuxian breathes out, a sound like it's been punched out of him and Lan Wangji immediately aches to soothe him.

He doesn't move. It’s not his place, Wei Wuxian makes that very clear every day.

"I didn't know," Wei Wuxian mutters, eyes back on his hands that are gripped tight around Chenqing. "I'll leave you be then," he finally settles on.

"There's no need," Lan Wangji tells him, desperately trying to keep him here, by his side, but Wei Wuxian is already standing up.

"Nah, you know I'm not a good student, Hanguang-Jun," he says with a teasing smile and suddenly he seems like the Wei Wuxian Lan Wangji has known all this time.

As if the prospect of getting away from Lan Wangji breathed new life into him.

Lan Wangji tries not to dwell on that thought but it's hard when it makes your heart crumble in on itself.

~*~*~

“Lan Zhan, how much longer do you want me to stay?” Wei Wuxian asks him a few days later, over dinner, and Lan Wangji can’t help but freeze at the question.

He has to bite down on his lips, because ‘Forever’ cannot be what Wei Wuxian wants to hear and in the end he settles on a shrug.

“How long do you want to stay?” he finally decides on asking and Wei Wuxian lowers his gaze.

“How much longer can I strain your hospitality? I know Lan Qiren is itching to throw me out.”

“Brother won’t allow it,” Lan Wangji says immediately, because for all that Lan Qiren is their Elder, he doesn’t get to decide who stays and who not.

And he knows Lan Wangji will either cause another scandal, or leave with Wei Wuxian, so he wouldn’t dare.

“Yeah, Lan Xichen must be real happy that I’m here,” Wei Wuxian muses. “But what about you?” he outright asks and Lan Wangji puts his bowl down for good.

He already broke the rule once, if he pretends he’s done eating, his conscious will be clearer.

“I want you to stay as long as you would like,” he eventually gives back and almost panics when a small furrow shows up on Wei Wuxian’s face.

“But what would you like?” Wei Wuxian wants to know and Lan Wangji is surprised at how desperately he wants to say ‘You’.

But he doesn’t, he can’t. He’s not what Wei Wuxian wants.

“For you to do what you want,” he settles on and Wei Wuxian stares into his bowl.

“Of course,” he mutters, before he seems to find a resolve. “I heard about some strange sightings in Qinghe. It doesn’t seem like Nie Huaisang is taking care of it, so I thought a night-hunt would be good?”

Wei Wuxian wants to leave. Lan Wangji clenches his hands into his outer robes under the table, so he can pretend they are not shaking.

“If you wish to. You’re free to come and go how you like,” he stiltedly gives back and when Wei Wuxian smiles at him, it cuts him right to his core.

It’s wrong, and small, and sad, and Lan Wangji wants to wipe it off his face.

“Alright, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian eventually says and then pushes his food away. “Play something for me?” he then asks and Lan Wangji immediately agrees.

Anything, to make Wei Wuxian happy.

He settles behind his guqin and his fingers fall into the familiar position as he coaxes the beginning of their song out of it.

“Not that one,” Wei Wuxian snaps and Lan Wangji jerks, pulling discordant notes from the strings. “Not that one,” Wei Wuxian says, softer this time and Lan Wangji feels like crying.

He never thought having Wei Wuxian around could hurt worse than knowing he’s dead, but it seems like he’s wrong.

Lan Wangji seems to be always wrong when it comes to Wei Wuxian.

Still, he starts to play a different song, because Wei Wuxian asked him to, and he could never say no to him. Maybe, somehow, this will be enough to make Wei Wuxian want to stay.

He knows it’s a futile hope, but it’s all he has left.

~*~*~

Wei Wuxian is going onto a night-hunt. Without Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji would prefer to not think about that, that Wei Wuxian didn’t even ask him to come, but instead he and Lan Sizhui are seeing Wei Wuxian off.

Lan Wangji pretends to not notice how the prospect of getting away from the Cloud Recesses, of getting away from him, has breathed new life into Wei Wuxian, but it’s hard to overlook.

Wei Wuxian is bouncing on the balls of his feet, all coiled up anticipation, before he turns around to them.

"Sizhui," Wei Wuxian says with a nod and an indulgent, fond smile before he pulls his son into his arms.

Lan Sizhui is enthusiastic about returning it, he doesn’t want to see Wei Wuxian leave either after all, but eventually it ends.

And then Wei Wuxian turns towards Lan Wangji.

"Lan Wangji," he says and Lan Wangji’s breath leaves him like he's been punched in the stomach.

He has only heard that name from Wei Wuxian’s lips twice, once in teasing in the library and once in absolute anger after Wei Wuxian came back from the Burial Mounds, and Lan Wangji is distantly surprised how wrong it still seems.

His name shouldn’t sound like that from Wei Wuxian’s lips, wrong and stilted, like an accusation more than a greeting, like a line being drawn between them.

Lan Wangji only experienced that once before, and he would have been happy for the rest of his life to never hear it like that again. The cold distance, the clear dismissal of everything they went through together, makes Lan Wangji’s whole world shift on its axis.

Lan Wangji is only aware of the feeling of falling for a few seconds, but even after the world righted itself again he's numb. He must have stumbled because suddenly Lan Sizhui is at his side, a strong grip on his arm and steadying him.

"Father," he whispers, the concern clear in his voice but Lan Wangji can't tear his eyes off Wei Wuxian who looks at them with a small, sad smile.

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji breathes and watches in horror as Wei Wuxian’s face crumbles in on itself.

"Goodbye," Wei Wuxian says before he turns around and walks away from Lan Wangji and Lan Sizhui.

He doesn't look back.

Lan Wangji wants to call after him, but his words are stuck in his throat, painfully lodged there and cutting him open. He wants to run after him, but his legs are not steady and Lan Sizhui’s grip is still painfully tight on him. In the end Lan Wangji can do nothing but watch Wei Wuxian walk out of his life.

Wei Wuxian is long gone from their sight when Lan Sizhui finally manages to get Lan Wangji back to the jingshi.

~*~*~

When Lan Wangji sits down behind his guqin his hands automatically reach for the most familiar notes. He wrenches his hands back after just three notes. It's still too much.

It has been months now, that Wei Wuxian left him, and Lan Wangji knows he’s not coming back. He took care of the night-hunt in Qinghe, Lan Wangji knows that much, but afterwards Wei Wuxian vanished.

Lan Wangji can’t play their song anymore, because there is no they anymore.

He startles slightly when Lan Sizhui sits down next to him and he vanishes the guqin with a flick of his wrist.

Lan Sizhui is quiet for a long moment and Lan Wangji learned to fear those moments. Sometimes Lan Sizhui is too perceptive, too clever for his own good.

"It doesn't hurt your head, does it?" Lan Sizhui eventually gently asks and reaches out to brush his fingers against Lan Wangji's temple.

Lan Wangji can still clearly see his little Lan Sizhui do the same and his heart almost flows over with love for him.

"It hurts your heart," Lan Sizhui goes on when Lan Wangji stays quiet and rests his hand over Lan Wangji's heart.

"Mn," Lan Wangji agrees, for the first time giving voice to his feelings and he's glad Lan Sizhui doesn't question it further.

He's not sure he could form actual words right now.

Lan Sizhui scoots closer, presses their arms and legs together and gets out his own guqin.

Lan Wangji has a moment of absolute panic where he fears Lan Sizhui is going to play the song that hurts Lan Wangji more than he can probable ever put into words but Lan Sizhui, of course, knows better than that.

He starts playing Clarity and Lan Wangji wants to object, the song is too sacred to play for fun, but he can already feel his mind settling and so he just leans a little more firmly on Lan Sizhui.

They both know it's the thanks he can't say out loud.

~*~*~

Lan Wangji is reading about core enhancement in the forbidden part of the library when he's suddenly startled out of his thoughts.

"Father," Lan Sizhui says and immediately has all of Lan Wangji's attention.

Lan Sizhui doesn’t call him father unless something is wrong. Seeing Lan Xichen stand next to his son does nothing to calm his nerves.

"A-Yuan," Lan Wangji acknowledges him and turns fully towards him, books abandoned on the table.

"It’s hurting him, too," Lan Sizhui tells him without pre-amble and for a second Lan Wangji doesn't know what he's talking about.

He has a moment of worry that maybe something is wrong with Lan Qiren or his brother, even though he’s standing right there, but the next words out of Lan Sizhui’s mouth make his meaning undoubtedly clear.

"It's hurting his heart, too."

Lan Wangji finds it hard to breathe for a few seconds, before he turns away from Lan Sizhui.

“Do not speak nonsense,” he admonishes him, because he knows what Wei Wuxian feels for him, and whatever Lan Sizhui is implying right now, is not it.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen starts but Lan Wangji sends him a sharp glare.

Not that his brother seems very impressed by that.

“Let him explain,” Lan Xichen asks of him, and Lan Sizhui wrings his hands in front of his chest.

“Speak,” he says after a long pause, a pause he uses to steel himself against whatever it is Lan Sizhui has to say.

“We meet him sometimes during night-hunts,” Lan Sizhui starts.

A part of Lan Wangji is relieved to know that Wei Wuxian is well and alive, but a more bitter part points out that neither Lan Sizhui nor Lan Jingyi ever felt the need to tell Lan Wangji about this or ask him to come on night-hunts with them.

“He doesn’t want to talk about you, and you flinch whenever his name comes up, so we didn’t mention it,” Lan Sizhui mumbles, because for all that Lan Wangji can read his son, Lan Sizhui can read him as well.

“Doesn’t matter,” Lan Wangji dismissively says but Lan Xichen shakes his head.

“It does. Listen, Wangji.”

“He plays the song sometimes,” Lan Sizhui immediately goes on and Lan Wangji’s heart sinks in his chest. “But it’s—it’s sad and melancholic, and he only does it when he thinks we’re all asleep, because he always, always starts crying.”

Lan Wangji’s fingers spasm; even the thought of this song causing Wei Wuxian so much pain hurts him deeply, and he wants to do nothing more but soothe Wei Wuxian’s pain somehow.

“We offered to accompany him once,” Lan Sizhui says, “I can play it well enough by now, but he refused. He seemed so panicked that he left the night-hunt early.”

“I do not see your point,” Lan Wangji presses out.

“It’s hurting his heart, like it hurts yours,” Lan Sizhui says, almost desperately, and Lan Wangji wishes he could tell Lan Sizhui off, that he’s being unreasonable, but he can’t.

If Wei Wuxian would really hate their song that much, he wouldn’t play it, Lan Wangji knows that for certain.

“I don’t understand.”

“Wangji, you should go to him. Tell him the name of the song.”

“Can’t. He doesn’t—,” Lan Wangji trails off here, because he has never put it into words.

What he feels for Wei Wuxian and what Wei Wuxian doesn’t feel for him.

“He does,” Lan Xichen gently says and he sounds so sure, Lan Wangji believes it for a second.

“What if he doesn’t?” he then asks and Lan Xichen smiles sadly at him.

“Would it be worse than it is now?” he wants to know and it makes Lan Wangji stop.

It wouldn’t be. Nothing could be worse than this state in between, where he thinks Wei Wuxian hates him, but where he has never said so.

“No,” he mumbles and startles when Lan Sizhui sits down close next to him.

“Come with us tonight. We’re supposed to meet him. You can tell him then.”

Tonight. It’s awfully soon, but given how long Lan Wangji kept the name of the song a secret, he thinks maybe it’s time now.

“I will come,” Lan Wangji decides and is not prepared for how Lan Sizhui throws his arms around him.

He just hopes they are not wrong.

~*~*~

Wei Wuxian is not looking too well, Lan Wangji can see that even from a distance. Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi went to get Jin Ling out of there, so Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji could talk in peace, but all Lan Wangji wants to do right now is bundle Wei Wuxian up and feed him meals.

He’s too thin, and he looks too tired.

It doesn’t help that he gets this startled look on his face when Lan Wangji walks up to him.

“Lan Zhan,” he breathes out and Lan Wangji has almost forgotten how it feels, to have his name uttered like that.

“Wangxian,” he says instead of a greeting, because he has to get this out there as soon as possible.

“What?” Wei Wuxian mutters with a frown and Lan Wangji dares to step closer.

Wei Wuxian hasn’t run from him yet.

“The song. I named it Wangxian,” he explains and he can see the moment his words reach Wei Wuxian because he instantly comes alive at that.

“You named it after us?” he wants to know and Lan Wangji can feel his ears redden.

He nods, but it doesn’t seem to be enough for Wei Wuxian.

“You named it after us?” he asks again and there is so much hope in his eyes, Lan Wangji hardly knows what to do with himself.

“Yes,” he answers, and is rewarded with the most beautiful sound in the world when Wei Wuxian starts to laugh.

“Oh, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says between his chuckles and he bounds forwards, right into Lan Wangji’s arms.

“Wei Ying,” he whispers, as he brings his arms up around Wei Wuxian to keep him close, press them tighter together, to never let him go again.

“Wei Ying, don’t leave again,” Lan Wangji says, afraid to voice his hopes and wishes, but he knows he has to.

He has Wei Wuxian in his arms. There is nothing he couldn’t do for him, for this feeling.

“Why, Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asks and he pulls back, not enough to make Lan Wangji panic, but enough to make him frown.

It’s too much distance already.

“You have to tell me why,” Wei Wuxian goes on, “because I think there might have been a very big misunderstanding.”

“No more misunderstandings,” Lan Wangji declares. “Stay. I love you.”

Wei Wuxian lights up at that and Lan Wangji fears he’s going to vibrate right out of his arms.

“I love you, too, only you, always,” Wei Wuxian gives back and throws himself back at Lan Wangji. “I thought you didn’t like me anymore, thought you wanted me to leave,” he admits and Lan Wangji slings his arms further around the too slim waist.

“Never. I love you. Always,” he whispers back, presses his face into Wei Wuxian’s hair and he just breathes for a second, content right where he is.

If the world would end right now, he wouldn’t care.

~*~*~

“Play my song,” Wei Wuxian demands as he drapes himself over Lan Wangji’s back, and Lan Wangji can’t help the soft smile that overtakes his face.

“Wei Ying,” he admonishes him, but he doesn’t shake him off.

“Play it,” Wei Wuxian whines. “I haven’t heard it in so long.”

“Played for you after breakfast,” Lan Wangji gives back and he knows that he created a monster.

Wei Wuxian demands to hear the song so many times during a day, and Lan Wangji can never deny him. It was only ever meant for Wei Wuxian after all.

“Play it again,” Wei Wuxian says, clinging more firmly to his back. “Or I won’t let go of you.”

Lan Wangji wants to tease him, let him hang off his back like an over-grown monkey, but instead Lan Wangji gets his guqin out.

“Only if you play with me,” he says over the victorious cheers from Wei Wuxian and holds out his flute to him.

Wei Wuxian still keeps it laying around everywhere, seemingly content that Lan Wangji plays for him all the time, and knowing that without any imminent danger he doesn’t need it, and Lan Wangji keeps an eye out for Chenqing wherever he goes.

“Ohhhh, my precious,” Wei Wuxian croons at the flute and takes it right out of Lan Wangji’s hands. “I’ll play with you but only if you say it again.”

Lan Wangji truly created a monster.

“I love you,” he immediately gives back and Wei Wuxian’s smile is too big for him to join Lan Wangji in the first few notes.

“I love you, too,” Wei Wuxian says, right before he starts to play along and while Wei Wuxian can’t play when he smiles, Lan Wangji doesn’t have the same problem.

And he rather enjoys smiling while he’s playing.